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msookyspooky · 2 months ago

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Fours a Franchise

Part 17

wordcount: 8,467

Jill looked at herself in the small mirror she had on her bedside table at the hospital. A small compact she had from her bag she used to repeatedly check up on herself to make sure she looked the part of the poor survivor. Her eye was still screwed up but not as red. Bruises here and there; just not as swollen. What hurt the worst was the stab on her back that asshole gave her. Unlucky for him and collectively for you; it missed major organs but damn did it hurt.

She smoothed her long dark hair with her hands as she did her usual side part with a sly smirk. She just couldn't help smirking to herself. She actually got away with it! She couldn't wait to get home and privately celebrate. Well, not too soon. She still had to look devastated for her friends and mothers deaths. With her Mom dead and her not being 18 for another few months, would she have to live with her estranged Dad or distant relatives or someone else for a bit? Oh well, who cares!

She was going to be so rich and famous that in a year she'd 'go to college' just to keep up appearances, then if she wanted to drop out she could and be swimming in cash. For life. YN this, YN that. Won Court cases, fame, a new paid for house somewhere, book deals. Well now, it was Jill Roberts' turn to shine.

She knew she should be more cautious but today was a good day. She was being discharged from the hospital under police protection tomorrow because soooo many people were chomping at the bit to know about the final girl. Flowers all over her hospital room, cards, even expensive gifts, paid for everything and news stations trying to get in contact with her.

You? Well, it was an easy decision. She still hadn't come right out and blamed you. Trying to play the innocent sweetie pie act a bit longer. Really milk it out. Wait till you got caught. However, as soon as she thought you might be a problem; she was gonna tell the police when they asked for yet another statement that now that her head was more clear and everything 'sank in'...Yes...Yes, it's shocking. YN must have been working with those two men to kill everyone. And they recruited Charlie? But that can't be!...Oh, but it is. Maybe that's why her Cousin and Uncle tried to kill YN years ago? Because she was actually the villian this whole time and they knew her secret. And YN attacked her and YN must have helped kill everyone this time too! The monster deserved to be behind bars boo hoo blah blah what a tragedy. Fake cry. Sniffle a bit.

People will eat that shit up. Especially once the authorities find you with those two. The manhunt for you was most definitely on; considering you escaped the hospital in the middle of the early morning with those two unnamed men after a Deputy was shot by them.

Jill had to not giggle or smirk too much; still in the public eye. The hunt for the 3 of you would be Legendary. Once they find you with those two, who the fuck would believe your side of the story anyways? Jill would be the sole survivor. Any nah sayers locked up or killed. This was in the fucking BAG! Soon, she'd be on the Ellen Show and Yahoo Mail articles and Facebook posts and Tweets and the ID Channel-

Her thoughts of grandeur were interrupted by a short forceful knock. She quickly went to get back in bed acting sore and sad.

"Don't bother rushing. I can see you standing from the window." A female voice rang out.

Jill faltered and had to stop herself from moving too fast. "Oh, it's my...Um, stitches. They want me to walk just not too much." She told the older woman as she entered without even asking.

Gale Riley Weathers whatever the hell her name was...Of course it was.

Gale nodded and closed the door behind her. Back to dressing in her old 'Reporter' style she probably had stuffed in the back her closet behind her robes and casual wear as Mrs. Riley. Stay at home 'writer' that hadn't wrote diddly shit in years.

Jill forced a smile upon her youthful face. After all, the nosey hag was the best in the biz and could get her one helluva a book deal. It's why Charlie spared her.

“Gale, what a surprise.” Jill put on that smile and soft voice, "How's your shoulder? Does it feel okay?"

Gale gave a wry smirk and a slight huff like chuckle. "...It's fine. Good enough for me to go home. Especially since you got a lot more damage and you're going home, right? I mean, if you can have that happen to you and be discharged soon then what a wimp I'd be to stay."

"Oh yeah, matching Shoulder stabs. Twinsies." She jokingly gave that carefree air-head teen act adults seemed to love from her. "And some bruises but nothing I can't handle. I mean, I got it bad but I don't think shoved off a landing and stabbed is anything to mess with...You're tough."

"Yeah." Gale nodded. "Yeah you're a scrapper yourself. Do what you need, do what you want, thrive not just survive...Kinda like looking in a mirror."

Jill forced a slight chuckle at that. The smile not reaching her eyes as a bit of silence stretched between them. Gale moved around the room, heels clacking against the hospital floor as she pondered something. "...Huh."

"Yes?"

She glanced over at the teen. "Nothing just...How funny. Us having matching superficial wounds. What are the odds?"

"Yeaahh....Yeah, pretty lucky." Jill nodded with a reluctant look.

"Almost too lucky." She gave with a wry smile that didn't reach her eyes either. “I swear, it seems like it was almost planned.”

Jill cautiously watched her as Gale acted aloof. ‘Reading’ labels on objects while talking. What was this old bitch getting at?

Gale mused aloud, "I mean, YN gets stabbed in the gut twice and those two, that we are not naming apparently, were shot and stabbed in many places and even almost gutted. Didn't think any of them would live...Trevor got his face peeled off...Coroner said alive while it happened just like YN's old boyfriend in ‘96-"

"I was there. Can we... Not talk about it?" Jill mumbled. "Just makes me uncomfortable. I mean, he was my first love and my…" She trailed off with a strained voice. Not too much, just enough.

Dewey would've been apologizing and comforting her for overstepping. Gale just stared.

The middle aged woman walked about the room a bit. Thinking before replying to the teen girl. "Sorry about that...I guess. But ya know… You'll have to answer to the cops and media about all this in a lot of detail. Over and over. You know how it is..." The silence etched on as Gale looked around while leaning on her good shoulder against the wall. "It's just really bizarre that me and you got wounds that weren't fatal. The final girl and the prize winning journalist that can help the final girl. Everyone else was butchered. Hung like a dead fish, burned, skinned, repeatedly stabbed, gutted, shot…Yet we both only got banged up and shoulder wounds... Daammmnn lucky."

Jill looked uncomfortable at Gale probing as she retorted in a short tone of voice, "Well, we should be grateful to be so lucky. I mean my poor friends...My own Mom…God-" She pretended to hug her face to potentially cry. A tiny forced shaky sucking in of breath as her shoulders shook. “I just…I just can't believe they killed my mother-”

"Cut the shit.”

….

Jill stiffened as Gale coldly told her, “I'm not part of the media anymore. There's no cameras."

...

Jill stilled and looked up for a moment trying to keep the innocent act up. "Excuse...Me?" She drew out shakily.

Gale just stared her down with a raised brow, "Your eyebrows aren't turned up, you're forcing your eyes to water by not blinking this whole time then blinking rapidly, the waver in your voice needs work too and stop sniffling so soon. People don't sniffle till the snot is running down their faces. Interviewed a lot of people including guilty people…I know fake crying when I see it. No Oscar for you anytime soon."

“What are you saying?” Jill just stared at her. "...Are you seriously claiming a girl that lost her friends, mother and boyfriend is fake crying? Are you seriously insinuating that?...Gale?" She said her name with an edge.

"I only accuse or go after the truth. And you?...I feel like maybe you hit your head just a little too hard. You know, what with that giant scuffle that happened. Somehow a teen girl fought off two grown men and a teen boy and now YN too? 4 people at the same time, huh? Things aren't adding up. Especially after YN fled the hospital...Whaddya gonna tell the cops when they ask why?" Gale asked mockingly and folded her arms.

Jill sat on the edge of the bed, body tense and ready to pounce if need be. "I'm gonna tell them the truth. I visited YN and she attacked me and two men attacked me and I was lucky to escape with my life till Dewey showed up. What? You got a mic on, Gale?" Jill's voice dropped an octave to her real voice, not the fake sweet act. "Ohhh…I get it. You want me to say it was Billy Loomis and Stu Macher like Sheriff Riley is convinced? Is that it? Is this some kind of bribe to get your old namesake back by proving something? Or maybe so you and your husband don't look like crazy lunatics saying two dead murderers are alive after such a tragedy?" She mocked back haughtily. “That's sick to do to a victim, Gale. Very tactless.”

"...No." Gale mumbled. "One: I don't have a mic.”

“Sure you don't.”

“Two: of course not. Without them captured; that's career suicide for both of us. They'll label you as crazy or a conspiracy theorist as well as me. I'm not stupid, you lil shit." Gale huffed, "... But you do have to talk, you know. This 'Oh poor me. I'm just a weak fragile teen girl who was victimized.' crap isn't gonna cut it forever. You were in this hospital room when Dewey and I recognized them and by the way you looked…You did too. You weren't surprised it was them. You couldn't wait for Dewey to shoot them so they couldn't say a word.”

“I was stabbed. I just wanted them caught for what they did; I didn't care who they were…And if that meant killing them to spare others the same fate then so be it.” She replied tilting her head and narrowing her eyes in barely contained annoyance at this back and forth between the two.

Gale was quiet for a moment before adding, "They're gonna search your phone too."

Jill sighed with a shrug, "If they find it. I lost it. Need to get a new one. Old one went missing that night and never found it in all the chaos. Couldn't remember my passwords or anything either. My Mom handled all that and I forgot what she said it was. So a new account, card, phone and cloud storage too I guess…I'm really devastated about it. I had so many pictures of me, Olivia, Trevor and Kirby on there.”

Gale scoffed, “It's 2011 and you don't use an email?”

“I'm a kid and schools don't like us to even have phones in class let alone use them for anything constructive. You know, they're bad for our learning. My one teacher had to have a student help her with a password change on her computer…I didn't check any email or password often. Mom did almost everything for me. So, I just plan on getting a new one and having someone help show me. " Jill feigned innocence with such a shitty lie.

"...How convenient." Gale grumbled before she sighed heavily and shifted her stance. "So what?...Get rid of the phone evidence then try and get rid of anyone in your way? All your friends, your Mom, your accomplice. Is YN the enemy now? Had to get her outta the way to get the spotlight? Those two were a surprise to you too I'd say with how things played out and now you're running with it as extra measure to not get caught.” Gale smirked wryly in realization of something. “...You're not giving a real statement because you're buying time to see if they get YN or not."

Jill scoffed loudly, "Listen Lady, I don't know what you're talking about-"

Gale laughed in outrage and smacked her hip with her good arm, "Man, you are really trying to sell it!” She lost her mocking smile, “Seriously, I'm not a bleeding heart like my husband. And we both know…We both know-" She repeated, lowering her volume. "You were not visiting YN in the ICU when she wasn't even awake yet. You had to rip off all your monitors and sneak with all your injuries under cameras and away from nurses just because you were sooooo worried about her…Worried about her ratting you out, more like it. You had to get rid of her when you realized she wasn't dead."

Jill felt her body tense and a slight sweat breaking out on her skin. This goddamn bitch. She should've told Charlie to stab her in the fucking head.

"...I told you, I was worried. The killers were still alive." She clarified once more in a firm tone. “I was attacked by YN then by them. Okay? I was just checking on her. I was scared for her.”

"Oh! So, you snuck in just to see her and got close enough for YN to wake up from surgery trying to randomly hurt you?" Gale mocked. "Are you fucking kidding me? One minute you're worried, then you want her dead and claiming she's involved, now you're straddling the fence to buy time-"

"The bitch attacked me! I don't know why; She panicked or something and then those two showed up." Jill argued with her tone accidentally becoming defensive.

“Oh, but not at the house? You and her supposedly tried to save each other's lives and you held her hand just for her to try and kill you in the ICU when you went to her room when she was just out of surgery? Sneaking too?” Gale demanded. “I still am on the fence with those two involved now…But I know one thing; you're full of shit. You are way more involved than you're saying and we both know it. In fact…Dare I say, YN might be right about you that night.”

Bitch.

Jill sneered, "...I could have your career tanked for questioning a victim like this. AGAIN. All those tabloids dogging you like it's 2000. So how about you back off before you become a nobody.”

Gale stood up from the wall and glared at her, "I'll come back on top; I always do... I think we both know how you knew the type of wound I got without even speaking to me or my husband. We both know you did not leave your house before Ghostface attacked your Mom and two Detectives. We lost two good men on the force... I know you could care less about them when you're the one that stabbed them. And we both know who actually helped Charlie this whole time. It wasn't those idiots. It was you. You and him. He fucking stabbed me in a way that you could keep me alive for your stupid little book idea."

Jill gave a sharp laugh of outrage as her nerves got to her. "Ha! Oh, so the honor roll student, good girl killed people? Killed her wn Mom!? Her best friend's!? You're SICK! You are so fame hungry and sick- I can't believe this! Leave."

She went to press the call button. Fingers hovering over it just a second as Gale spoke.

"-You know they're gonna look through all those snuff films of these murders, right?" Gale quickly rushed out.

Jill scoffed while hitting the call light. "No shit."

"Oh?" Gale smirked haughtily. "So you know...That one of Olivia Morris was recorded from two different angles?"

"Yeah, Ghostface. Ghostface's. And a partner was probably those two creeps in the bushes or something while Charlie killed her. YN was across the street, you know, their accomplice. She almost got me killed on that staircase." She spat with a smartass smug smirk at Gale. Trying to frame everyone but herself at this point.

"Then why was that one video recorded from your bedroom?"

....

....Jill felt her heart plummet. Everything froze as her ears wrang and her palms tingled like the bed dropped out from under her.

“...What did you just say?” She asked in a hushed tone, brows furrowing.

“That second angle of the video was filmed from your bedroom window, Jill.” Gale coldly replied.

. "...What? T-That's insane-" She furiously shook her head with a nervous laugh.

Gale gave the same smartass smirk back to Jill in return. "See, there's no way that video came from anywhere but your bedroom window. You had a clear shot. Are you seriously going to claim it was Kirby? Especially when at one point you can see her left hand in the shot when the video was recorded from the left side of that glass? C'mon! You can hear your voices and she sounded more scared than you!... She didn't have that camera, Jill. Billy and Stu weren't in your room. And YN was actually trying to get into the house from outside to help your friend at the time…No one but you could've recorded that."

“I didn't-”

“You did. Police have it. Got it off a website these murders were posted on. I just saw it in evidence today. But rest assured, they have it.” She chuckled in smug amusement. “Good luck trying to do what Roman did. Police stations, especially during a murder case, are like fort knox to break into.”

“I didn't!” She yelled.

Gale chuckled, “Oh really? Hm. It got uploaded that night…Are you gonna say Charlie did it? You were injured at the hospital, so you never saw Charlie alone and now with your phone mysteriously gone?...How convenient." She drew out and tilted her head in satisfaction at how tense Jill was.

Jill stared with wide eyes, brows furrowed, breath quickening as Gale smirked at her.

…This goddamn bitch. Fucking cunt. Nosey piece of shit. Skinny ass old hag fucking-

The insults in Jill's head were endless as Gale figured it out.

A nurse tried coming in and Gale quickly blocked the door with a chair. Banging persisted as Jill gripped the bed sheet, teeth gritted as Gale smugly told her as quickly as she could in a hush whisper as close to Jill as possible, "That video came from your phone and even if you destroyed it; It's still in the phone records with the carrier you stupid ass moron! They can dig and dig and diiggg-"

Gale jerked back as Jill yelled, "And what would an old washed up Boomer like you know ANYTHING about tech? Huh?! You probably still call it the net and print out pictures of memes and shit off pinterest!"

"I got sources including tech geeks I talked to…And I'm fucking GenX!” She quickly rushed out without taking a breath. “This ‘old hag’ would've recorded the old fashion way on a camera recorder hidden in your friends room and uploaded it using a public computer at the library or at least a laptop with a DPV or VNP or whatever the fuck its called! Not my smartphone connected to everything about me and in my fucking room beside a witness that knows me, you dumbass!" She jeered back as the door slammed open and people rushed in.

Jill felt her heart had been hammering in time with the door banging. Eyes darting looking for something to bash Gale's head in. Seething with anger and fear as she was damn tempted to stab Gale with her fork on her tray and claim she had to defend herself somehow…Until witnesses barged in.

They questioned Gale as Jill felt her world crumbling around her...Everything she thought she was so clever at and it went up in smoke in an instant.

"And when we find YN! She'll fight you! Then this will have to go to court and WAY higher than Woodsboro PD will be involved, sweetheart. It'll all unravel…It's over, Jill!" Gale called over the security guard's shoulder that was shoving her to the exit.

A nurse came in to check over Jill as the teen trembled and breathed heavily. Panicking at the idea of them realizing that particular video's angle was shot in her bedroom. She hid that and got rid of her phone that they'll soon recover calls and text and videos from. She was so focused on getting the video to let people see the murders she never suspected...She never thought-

"Get out...Get out! Get the fuck out!" She screeched at nurses who looked bewildered but complied after Jill stood and threw a tray, "GET OUUTTT!!"

Once alone she started hyperventilating. Grasping her hair and hunched over. Not even feeling the stab Billy gave her on her back, the stitches and pain dulled by morphine and fear.

If they find you with those two? She had a chance. You being with two wanted killers and even if people thought they were dead it would overshadow her…Maybe.

...If they found you alone? And you told the cops the truth? Gale was right...Court. Her phone gone out of everyone else's still on their person; she'd be the main suspect. They'd go to her phone carrier with a waiver to go through records, even videos and calls and texts all deleted but still there on their end. She thought a VPN on the web was enough and deleting evidence then getting rid of the phone! Most of all? Nothing could get rid of evidence that it was recorded from her bedroom window looking at Olivia's room. Eye witnesses including YN and Mrs. Meeks knew she and Kirby were there when it happened. If they find you? It's over! She couldn't even kill Gale, no doubt FBI getting involved in this case if it goes to court. It went from the sole survivor's only word against a bunch of killers to now...It's fucking over.

"Shit..." She tensely gave her voice genuinely shaky now. No more acting "Shit, shit, shit, SHIT, SHHITT!!" She screamed, throwing her tray against the wall.

————————————

You stood in front of Billy's bedroom door. Feeling sick to your stomach…Seriously, you might throw up. Skin clammy and breathing shallow. Debating heavily should you or should you not? Your voice wavered in uncertainty as you forced out, “Stu?...Can I come in?”

“Go away.”

Honestly, his tone alone was enough to make you want to agree and leave him be. Stu proved clear back in 1996 that when this side of him came out; he was dangerous. Maybe even more dangerous than Billy could ever be.

Your fingertips danced over the doorknob. Upperteeth skimming your body lip in trepidation before a sigh escaped you.

Despite his warning, you didn't listen.

Opening the door because you couldn't handle this silent treatment or the unsaid any longer. Not anymore. You had no one but him and Billy in this mess and despite what Stu says about ‘never seeing him again’ he WAS dangerous and he was quite the ‘sore loser’. Billy knew it. Hence his ‘We'll have to sleep with one eye open’ argument after Stu stormed away to the back of the trailer. And what can you say? You just couldn't go back to constantly looking over your shoulder especially over a misunderstanding you knew if he would just listen you could mend…Maybe.

So, you forced yourself to walk inside despite the fear. If he killed you; what else was there to lose? Best Friend dead, friend who was like an older brother to you hates you, can't see anyone, might never go home, the whole Country might soon hate you, you might go to prison…

“Stu.” You softly said his name and gingerly closed the press board style door behind you. He had a lamp on, rereading that letter that you saw he had ripped in half. It crinkled in his hands when you came in; his features twitching in irritation.

He didn't answer you. Just glared down at that paper. You lightly swallowed, trying to find any words you could without him attacking you or Billy getting involved again.

“Stu…We gotta talk. We have to.” You hesitantly mumbled, already getting a headache from this. “We just have to…Please?”

“About?” He mumbled back while not looking at you. His voice was uncharacteristically stern.

“Everything.”

He rolled his lips before smacking the paper. “...This is bullshit.”

You just nodded. “Yeeeaahh. Yeah, I call it bullshit too. Could've saved everyone trouble if he was more blunt.”

Stu scoffed, “So, you want him to admit it? Wow.” He said with a wry smirk on his lips.

You sighed, “Stu, please. That's not what I meant.” You rolled your eyes softly. He was already starting it.

“What do you mean then?” He demanded and tossed the ripped letter aside. “Because why would you keep this if it means nothing to you, huh?” He gave a bitter chuckle under his breath. “Why would you go to him over me? Why?!” He demanded, getting upset all over again. His emotions were like a raging tornado that threatens anything in its path once he gets worked up.

You stayed near the door and replied in a low voice, “I told you, you were passed out-”

“That's not what I meant and you know it!” He snapped. Sucking in a breath as he lowered his voice. “...I left my number there at your cabin for a decade and you didn't call me. Not once.”

Yeah, he had you there. You still argued, “I didn't call Billy either. And you never called me.”

“I was doing what you asked! I left you alone!”

You averted your gaze, “Yes, okay fine… I did want that…I wanted to be left alone at the time. By you and him.” You grimaced at the honest truth.

“WHY!?” He demanded with raised brows in outrage. “Why!? I was already at your house on and off so why the hell did it matter?”

“Stu. Because you're a killer.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, classic excuse.”

“Seriously, Stu! I did not want Randy or Dewey to accidentally see you. They came over randomly, you came over randomly, and I was just a huge ball of anxiety 24/7.”

“Oh please.” He huffed, “I evaded them seeing me for years before you told me to get lost. Nah, there was another reason. Probably some guy. Probably rat boy in there. And you're a rat too so how about you leave me be and both of you go off and have your backstabbing rat life together and get married in a sewer and have your ugly ass rat babies.”

He flopped back on the mattress acting like he was going to go to sleep. You frowned, feeling annoyed that he just didn't get it. Instead he was pouting like a child.

You warily sucked air through your nose and tried to stretch your neck. “Okay… Because I didn't want them hurt by you.”

He huffed with his eyes closed while putting his hands behind his head, “What are you on about, man? I haven't laid a finger on them since we were teens.”

“No but you were planning to. You thought about it and that was enough. You even thought about killing Randy in the barn when he found us days ago. I had to draw my gun out on you and Billy!…All these years later, Stu. And you still think about it when all else fails.” You retorted with a frown. “It's why I didn't want you around a decade ago.”

He shrugged with his eyes still closed, “Eh, but I didn't. And even in Hollywood years back, it was just an idea and you got your granny panties in a bunch over it for nothing. You chicks are all the same. Getting all worked up and holding grudges.”

You gave a mild glare as he was just irking you more and more. “Okay, new one. Because you didn't hesitate to scare the shit out of me in that motel the second things didn't go your way. And I didn't feel like being scared in my own damn house after that. THAT is another reason I went no contact. For my safety and my friends.”

That made him go from pretending to try and calmly chill to jerking up ready to snap your head off . “Hey, what the- YOU had a gun on ME first!” He pointed at you with venom in his voice.

Your eyes narrowed. “Because I felt threatened and you were gonna kill me if I stopped you from killing my friends.” You argued, old resentment resurfacing from a decade ago even if you tried to be calm but it was failing the more he talked.

Stu sneered, “You're nuts and freaking delusional, man! I was not. It was just a scare tactic. We were desperate and lacking sleep and turning on each other and you wanna act all innocent when you threatened me and him-” He pointed to the living room. “With a gun multiple times!”

“There should've been no tactics!” You exclaimed, failing miserably at trying to be calm. “And considering how you both were and how fast shit escalates with you two; what choice did I have?” You jerked your arm to the living room where they had just beat the shit out of each other hours ago. “I mean, damn! You both go from 0 to 100 in 3 seconds. I can't take a risk of thinking it's ‘just’ a scare tactic.”

“Oh cry me a river; it was a decade ago. Let it go.” He waved you off in annoyance. “And tonight is different. I've had it.”

You groaned and rubbed your face leaning back against the door. You both ran in circles verbally. Damn him. Doing this at this hour while you felt like shit. Seriously, was it the pills or just exhaustion?

You clicked your tongue and rolled your head back in exasperation. “...M’kay, back to my first and most important point. I didn't want to be caught. There. Billy did not get some special treatment either.” You grew serious trying to make him listen. “I didn't need or want my friends and family finding you at my house even if you didn't do anything. Or the cops of all things or the media. No one needed to know you lived and you were at my house. My secret needed to be kept a secret!"

He bitterly laughed, “Oh and look how good that turned out.” He jeered, giggling out the reply sadistically. “Randy was, ya know, just hanging out! Dewey is probably blubbering like a baby right now that you betrayed him too.” He grinned. “So what good did that do you?”

You felt a deep anger turning in your gut at his mockery of your best friend's death and the situation with Dewey. It was so fresh too. The wounds are still red and hurting to prove it. You wanted to throw something at him, scream at him but somehow you couldn't even move. The anger wasn't hot, it was cold. A chill over you at seeing him for who he was; a cold blooded killer.

“...Wow.” You gave in a lower tone with a heaviness in the air.

“Yeah, wow!” His tone was defensive in turn. He stared at you long and hard with an almost bored expression and shrugged. “Tough. It's the truth. Now, you have no one after all this time. Including me. You blew it more than Monica Lewinsky-”

“I know that, asshole!” You snapped, losing your patience and will to live through this the more you talked to him. “I know the irony. I didn't plan this. I didn't plan for you and Billy to be at that barn, and worst of all…Okay, the worst thing is-” You bitterly chuckled, shaking your head and voice catching.

“- Worst is that these two new killers had no idea you and Billy existed! You both could've stayed out of it completely and none of this would've happened.” You scoffed. No light in your eyes as you still wanted to cry over all this but barely held it together for your pride's sake. “My friend died because of a mistake that could have and should have been prevented. That's on me for life. Everything I tried to prevent blew up in my face. EVERY. DAMN. THING.” You smacked your hand with each syllable. Stu seemed unmoved as you ranted, “Seriously, every single thing that could have gone wrong, did! Are you happy? Is THIS what will make you smile back in your big mansion you claim you have? This gonna make it all better for you while you're with models and preparing for your next big gig or party or whatever?”

Stu raised a brow. A silence in the air for a moment before he mumbled. “You done?”

You stared at him. Pouring your heart out and he didn't care. You…You didn't…Damn, your brain was almost not working!

“...Fine.” Was all you said as you went to turn and he ordered.

“Stop.”

You stopped on command from leaving out of pure instinct at the tone he used.

“No, I'm-”

He cut you off. “I said, stop. You wanna talk? Don't run away the second the fire's on your ass instead of mine. You have bellyached about the same shit for years now it's my turn to be the victim for once. Sit.”

You turned to him in outrage, “I don't owe you shit after what you just said to me! It's…It's not the same thing. Randy and Dewey-” It died in your throat. You'd be venting, sobbing, pacing and heartbroken about this for quite some time. But you only had a select amount of time to clear this shit with Stu even if you both still parted ways permanently. At least he might not try to kill you years from now. You wanted to leave and never look back or even turn you all in but you shoved your fragile heart to the side right now. Either try and convince him for your safety down the road or live on edge for life. Cause vengeance and Stu was…A Casey Becker.

You paused and thought it over. Then nodded and rolled your lips in resignation. “Okay…Okay fine.” You gingerly went to the bed to sit at the edge.

Stu glared at you. “...I treated you well, YN. Better than any skank I've ever been with.”

You glared a bit, opening your mouth and he angrily shut you down. A rant of his own at what he knew you were gonna say.

“Before you say it; Screw Tatum. You knew her for a short part of our lives. Best friend my ass, you knew her for a few months.”

You went to open your mouth.

“I'm talking now. Shut it.”

God you wanted to smack him. You held back digging your nails into your palm with what you knew was a sour look on your face. You old injury from years back hurting as you fisted your hands.

“ I meant what I said. Tatum was a quick fling that didn't mean shit to me. I only dated her as a cover so me and Billy could kill Sidney. Billy's idea, not mine. She was cute with a nice rack so I played along. She didn't mean anything. You did. Alright? You were different…At least I thought.” He used a stern tone you rarely heard from him. “You were so much higher than any girl to me back then.” He raised his hand as if you were metaphorical on a pedestal before smacking his leg. “So much fucking higher, man.”

He leaned forward as you shrank back a bit. His blue eyes full of an emotion you couldn't read. “I gave you EVERYTHING…Everything, YN. My future, my plans, my freedom, my life, my friendship with Billy. I risked it all for you and you broke my fucking heart in half. I tried to save you and you stabbed me in the back. Then I tried to make up for everything after Windsor and you never forgave me after years of me thinking we were finally cool. Then, I had one slip up. Okay? One tiny fuck up and you cut me off like I'm chopped liver. Well, till you need me in our 30's for help…You're a using bitch. Always have been, always will be. You damn me but you're just as sick playing with a guy's heart just to save your own ass.”

You averted your eyes and didn't grip your fist so tightly. Feeling your palms sweating, feeling nauseous from what you inferred was anxiety, feeling bewildered at the emotion in his voice.

He huffed, shaking his head as if trying to find the words. His blue eyes seemed to bore into you as he gave in a hushed tone, “You…You told me you loved me. Do you know how fucked up that was? No girl told me she loves me. My own mother barely said it.” He hissed out. Pain in his voice you rarely got to hear. Always covered by a cocky attitude or perverted joke. “You wanna talk about fucked up? You played me like a fiddle and I forgave you for YEARS. Then you wanna play victim the second I get pissed? Fuck that and fuck you. I deserve to be pissed! FUCK YOU!”

You flinched at the boom in his voice at the last part. Angry Billy; What's new? Angry Stu and hurt Stu was a scary creature to deal with. You looked at him a bit differently as he spoke. What he said was hateful and nasty earlier but what do you expect from Stu Macher of all people? But this?...It made that note with his phone number you kept but never called all these years burn a hole in your chest. Your emotions are in turmoil with fear, anger, shock and hurt and…And guilt.

“Stu…I-” You fidgeted. “Look, I understand why you're hurt and angry.” The words felt uncomfortable to even say.

“Damn right I'm hurt.” Voice a low mumble in his throat; sounding almost like a growl of sorts as he glared daggers at you.

“But the big 3 words and why well…I mean, you were trying to kill me. I was…Kinda desperate?” You reluctantly gave while wincing as it stammered out.

Stu's eyes narrowed, “No excuse.” He grumbled.

“I mean…It's kind of a good excuse.” You tried to smirk and joke but It died in your throat at the glare he gave you. You sighed heavily. “C'mon. Give me a break, even a tiny inch here, Stu... Stu, we were kids! I was scared. You were trying to choke me to death. I was running for my life and trying to save everyone.”

“Did you love me?” He demanded.

“I…It probably wasn't love. Again I was a senior and scared but…I did care about you-”

“Bullshit.”

“I did.” You affirmed. “I don't know what I felt but I know I cared.”

But he just shook his head, “Oh cut the crap. You've never cared about me! You were scared of me or using me as a guard dog; no in-between.” He bitterly grumbled.

You rubbed your face trying to avoid any bruises or soreness from fighting Jill. “No I-...I guess… Yeah. Sometimes.” You reluctantly admitted with a heavy sigh. Your stomach was sinking and turning. “I'm sorry but sometimes I probably did.” You sighed out all the fight in you dissipating.

He stared.

Long and hard he stared at you before scoffing with a wry smirk, “There it is. That's all it was. I forced myself on your life and you were scared of me and just said whatever to save your ass!-” He didn't finish his sentence and flung a pillow in a fit. Thank god it was just a pillow. For now.

“That's not all, okay? I did care about you!” You tried to save yourself like a drowning woman at sea.

“Stop lying!” He yelled getting closer to you on the bed. You expected Billy to burst in at any moment with the volume your voices were reaching.

“I am not lying.” Pivoting on the bed to face him while scooting back. “Stu, you were my friend before you did what you did! Why can't you or asshole out there remember that?”

“Oh that makes it better? You only cared as a ‘friend’! You never cared past your guilty conscious and moral compass. I was your ‘friend’ because I put in the effort while you only knew me from Tatum.”

You groaned, “We had a class sitting beside each other; that's not true.”

“It is. And then you were my ‘friend’ to save your ass years later from me or from Billy or anyone else wanting to kill you.”

“No-”

He laughed in outrage, “Ohohoho, okay. So you cared huh? I loved you and you only cared? You never even cared that much!”

“Stop it, Stu!” You lashed out, finally yelling back. “I cared in High School even when I shouldn't. I really fucking did. When it was so wrong and sick and…Too much and...” You sighed and trailed off.

His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

You clamped up realizing you admitted a bit more than you were proud of. Always claiming to yourself and others you cared about them as friends only but…Who the fuck were you kidding? Even then? It was just too confusing and wrong and then the mix of hating them at the same time for what they did intermingled with that. Maybe not Billy as much until these confusing feelings with this letter happened but Stu had years of you getting to know him without the mask and talking and dinners at your cabin on and off or a chat on the phone…How could you not have some level of fucked up confusion over all that?

“Hey. Talk.” He snapped his fingers and intensely eyed you. “What? Are you trying to tell me… That you…What? You had a crush on me or something?” He taunted mockingly.

You felt your face scrunch up and looked away. “It's not the time for this, okay? I just lost everything. I'm just trying to clear the air about NOW not 15 years back.”

His taunting smirk receded and he looked at you in surprise. “...No, it's the perfect time. Now say it.”

“Stu.”

“Did you like me as more than a friend? I won't kill you, you have nothing left to lose now anyways, Billy will save you, we might all die or go to prison anyway so say it! Did you or did you not want me?” He pressured looking at you with desperate demanding eyes. A glimmer of what you would describe as hope under all that rage.

You didn't answer and he gripped your arms and shook you, “YN!”

“Ow, Stu-” You grimaced at him touching your arms that were fucked up from the last few days.

“I'm gonna hurt you more if you don't fess up! Fucking talk, woman!” He ordered but his action didn't match his words as he loosened his grip

You groaned inwardly and shot him an annoyed look. “...Yes. Okay, fine. fine! FINE!” You raised your voice each word and shoved him off you as you had his undivided attention.

You shakily ran a nervous hand over your head, unsure how to even come back from saying what you've known for years and hated yourself for. “I did. I had a crush on you…I'm not saying love, okay? That is a big word for people like us…I mean, you.” You swallowed. “But I did have a crush, I guess. I know it was probably obvious but clearly not if you thought it might've been just to save myself.”

“You did?” He looked taken aback before he scoffed clearly not trusting you as he leaned back. “Oh suurree. I bet you did on Billy too, huh?”

You frowned and looked away.

“No way.” He grumbled.

“Billy's name with mine; per usual.” He rolled his eyes.

You sighed realizing there was no point in hiding it. “...Well sorry, but it's true. I liked you both in your own way before you got with my friend or...Oh fuck. Before guys attacked me at my parents house.”

“Then why not get with me then?” He demanded eyeing you up and down skeptically. “Why hide it?”

You scoffed a humorless smirk on your face in exasperation. “It was the 90's! I was confused how I could crush on you and Billy at the same time and felt like a slut that you both were taken by my friends. I felt awful!...So, of course I just said it was a fleeting thing that would go away. I never wanted to admit it. I don't want to even admit it now.”

“Did it?” He pressed easing closer.

You rolled your eyes, “...I don't know, okay? Your asking questions that don't matter-”

“Oh, but they do.” He urged.

You rolled your eyes feeling sweaty yet chilled as he was up in your breathing space. “No it doesn't…” When he wouldn't stop staring you groaned and begrudgingly just started admitting it like pulling teeth. Feeling awful and lightheaded. “...Sometimes it did. Sometimes it didn't. Okay? Sometimes the feelings came back then left just as quickly the second you open your mouth.”

He gave a look that was almost a stubborn pout at that. Like a kid not getting the answer he wanted. “Yeah yeah. Then you dated Randy two years later. Why not just be the friend group's bicycle, huh? Maybe all of Woodsboro could have a ride if you gave James of all guys a chance!” He bitterly insulted you. “The horror movie logic? I grew up and realized it doesn't exist. Even you can live.” He grumbled with a triumphant smirk

…But as he said it with that haughty smirk he glanced at you.

At the expression you had; you saw him frown. A slowly forming frown after the words left his mouth. The smirk and sadistic glee left his eyes a bit. He adjusted in his seat and cleared his throat looking down. Rolling his eyes whether at himself or you was undecided.

“Yeah. I'm not too shocked you think like that of me. Of any woman really.” You numbly replied. You felt your chest ache. “I guess I can admit it now. James was a piss poor distraction from how confused I felt and so I wouldn't be the spare tire in the group. As for Randy? Ray and I dated as a fling out of pure confusion. Make no mistake, I was happy for him and Karla. We were young and almost died and he was in a coma after college. We were confused kids. And truthfully? I guess it worked out because you and Billy would've found an excuse to kill whoever I was with. James or Randy. Derek was a distraction too…The one that got away. Got snuffed out, shockingly not by you two, was that Detective...Mark Kincaid was it if anyone had been it and he's dead. He's been dead over a decade.”

You saw the bitter jealousy in Stu at the truth. He tsked in irritation, “...Yeah he was just to save your ass. You knew him a few days and he wanted to bust me and Billy.” Stu grumbled with narrowed eyes the second you mentioned Mark's name.

"He was the only one that understood me without being crazy." You just coldly told him. “But no, that's what you want to think. That I can't care past using like you and Billy are. You're projecting your own personality onto me. I cared at that party or I would've killed you when you got knocked out or let Sidney. I would've turned you in. Shot you at my house. Shot you at the motel. I cared not to ever turn you in; YES! Out of fear but also out of your well being which is way more than a scumbag like you deserves. Seriously, you have tried to kill me, killed my friends, tried to assault me once, tried to kill me, saved my life, then was good to me for years, then tried to kill me again, then came here to save me, now you're insulting me and making me feel threatened again- It is a fucked up conundrum loving someone like you, Stu! Can't you understand that!?” You almost pleaded with that thick skull of his as it just blurted out.

“You are such a whiny victim wannabe, I don't know how I put up with you all these years. Constantly boo hooing! Poor YN, poor wittle YN so pathe-...” He froze as he realized what you said. “Wait…Wait, wait…”

“ME!?” You yelled, still heated. “You ate my food, crashed at my house, threatened me! Who the fuck?-”

His eyes were wide as he shushed you, “Wait, what did you say?”

You blinked. “Huh?”

He looked at you in wonder, “You said you loved me.”

You looked bewildered. Flabbergasted…Mortified even. “I-I did not!”

“You did!” He urged scooting closer. “You said it's a Conundrum loving someone like me? What the fuck does that mean?” He searched your face and huffed. “What? That I'm too messed up to love?”

You stared back with wide eyes, kicking yourself. You usually had more skill than that then to just blurt something like that out. You sighed and looked at him reluctantly. “...Yes, I mean no I-” You softly addressed the elephant in the room. “Maybe if you weren't who you are I would've…I might've…” You trailed off voice shaky and unsure. You closed your eyes with a grunt of embarrassment. “Damn it, why are you like this!? You just have to press; That's you! You have to have your way or you kill or manipulate or insult! I don't owe you anything; this was just me trying to not have you fight Billy or kill me no-”

!!!

You didn't get it out as your eyes snapped open at feeling something bump against your face. Kinda hurt, actually. Your eyes widened as you tried to understand what the hell just happened before realizing you felt his lips…On yours and-

Stu Macher was fucking kissing you. Deeply. Passionately. Stu was kissing you on Billy's bed.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Authors Notes:

Okay, between life just being weird right now. Seriously, I wasn't even excited for Halloween and that is not me...

I had a tiny scene from Scream 4 show up on Tiktok of Jill recording Olivia's death and thought "Wow I didn't see that...Wow, that's stupid of her...Wow, this messes with my plot- OH FUCK!!"

And I redid like 20k words give or take because I had all of Scream 4 done ready to post till I saw that and I just couldn't ignore it PLUS writing my own books (It would be cool if yall bout them once I publish 👉👈... It would be neat of you guys and stuff.) plus life and trying to get a part time job and writing for clients bc a bitch got bills and just...FUCK!

So yeah. That is why this is so late and I've been MIA recently. Ily all for supporting me and your patience I am so sorry but Jill being that stupid in canon is too much to ignore and I lowkey like this plot better even if it's riskier.

I'm gonna try every 2 weeks every weekend now that I think I have a clear plot and have most of 4 done.

#scream 1996 #scream #stu macher #billy loomis #scream 4 #fours a franchise #my stories #my writing #yn fanfic #set up series #she her yn #scream fanfiction #scream fanfic #scream franchise

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xtrablak674 · 2 years ago

Text

It's Much Closer Than You Think

The longer I live the more I continue to realize that no matter what trials and tribulations I am going through I am extremely blessed.

Yesterday evening I got a message in my inbox on Facebook that I am sure everyone here is familiar with, someone asking you for money in the guise of being a friend of yours. The hack is so dated it doesn't even make any sense to do it anymore. The message was coming from an ex I dated ten years ago. And this is how it read:

"Hey. It's been too long, I know but I'm desperate right now. Is there any possible way you could send any amount of cash to me via either Square Cash (My Cash on Android) or PayPal. I will pay you back on Tuesday when I get paid. I'm so sorry to contact you like this."

Now you see no use of my name, no proper greeting, no attempt at interaction, just went right for the money. Of course I am amused by all of this because this hacker has gotten the wrong person. I know this ex and albeit his being adopted he has two very loving alive parents there's no way if he's in a pinch he would be contacting me for money. The entire idea was preposterous.

I was in a playful mood so I sent the Hacker back this jpeg I had been sending out to friends of Death coming to collect this old woman on Halloween and she mistaking his robes for a costume, but when Death sees she has given him full sized Snickers bars he let her know, we're good. Just a piece of silliness to get a quick laugh, I don't really celebrate holidays but I thought let me share this with this Hacker just because.

I did and this was his response:

"I was recently hospitalized for over a week with an infection in my spinal fluid. While I have made a full recovery, I have not fully landed on my feet. My "friend" Eddie Diaz came to see me while I was heavily sedated and helped himself to my cell phone using my finger to unlock it. He then transferred $3,000 into his mothers account. I did eventually catch it in time for the bank to stop the transaction but they froze my account pending and investigation. I've made it nearly a month but payday isn't till Tuesday and my electricity just got shut off for missing two payments in a row."

I was so intrigued by the level of detail and the use of a 'real name' of as a villain, this was such a good story. But I had been gooked in the past and this wasn't a phone call this was an elaborate text message, and from all the TV shows I watch, you never follow instructions of a text message without verifying that you are actually talking to the real person. This was my response:

"Dear Sweet Hacker, you have over played your cards. I dated Mr. Binswanger and know none of this to be true. :)"

And inserted an animated gif with a big NO.

I realized I didn't have a phone number for this ex so I looked for him on Instagram, I found an unused account and sent it a direct message. I was disturbed enough by the message I thought I should take my intervention a bit farther. I looked through his Friends list and found someone else with his unique last name and sent them a direct message. I recalled from when we were dating this person was his mother.

"I think someone has hacked Kurt's Facebook account asking for money."

Not my best piece of writing as I look back on it, but the message is clear enough. A mother would alert her son of such a hack. I then decided to include a screenshot of the Hacker's conversation with me just so the mother could see I wasn't making it up. This was her message back to me.

"No, sadly, this is accurate, as far as I can tell..."

Wait what the fuck, this was really Kurt? I was on the phone with my brother at the time I got her message, so I was trying to listen to him drone on about another issue with his children and read the reply from my ex's mother, which continued with:

"As you may know, he has a substance abuse problem and we've refused to help him until he goes back to the hospital for a mental evaluation and rehab."

She hit a enter and followed this with another message.

"Our hearts are breaking."

My heart dropped, this was awful. What was more awful is this was happening in real time as my brother was still on the phone he hadn't even realized I kept switching phones. I had put my tablet on its charger near my computer but had answered his phone call on the princess phone near my bed. I could hear the messages bling in from Mrs. Binswanger. I was trying to be present for my brother and my ex's mother at the same time. I don't understand why I can't just say no or learn to better navigate better boundaries. I clearly should have told my brother I would call him back later, dealing with such sensitive and devastating news was something that really needed my full attention, but no, I kept sending Mrs. Binswanger a message then putting my red phone back on the hook and went to the princess phone to pretend like I had been listening the entire time.

This was something my brother still hadn't realized about himself yet, he just calls me to unload whatever is emotionally burdening him, and even though he's got a little better to not have a soliloquy on the phone he still has a ways to go, this is why I encouraged him to write like I do to empty and calm his mind. I interrupted his story that he was retelling for like the third time to say I knew what the solution was and I gave it to him. I then switched my attention back to Kurt's mother, where I wrote:

"I'm sadly too aware of it. I thought he was doing better."

And I genuinely did, he had moved back to California to be closer to his parents, he had a teaching job and from our brief interactions, which were inspired by a Google Photos reminder that we had dated nine years ago. I think that reminder was from 2016 which this year would make ten years ago.

I hadn't realized it had been so long since I had dated anyone. I know I have been celibate for easily over seven years or so and I hadn't dated anyone within this time but looking at the actual receipts I was surprised. I remember my position was then and sort of still is I wouldn't do any more dating until I could find someone as emotionally mature as I was, I was tired of having to do all the emotional heavy lifting in my relationships I didn't think it was fair to me or the person I was with.

"I'm so sorry you're going through this."

"We had no idea."

"He hides it well. He's masterful at it."

"Evidently. Eddie Diaz did take his phone and car, but we were able to get them back. Won't let him have car until he gets help. He actually bolted from hospital."

"I haven't really kept in touch with Kurt since we broke up nearly ten years ago. We had spoken a little but I had no idea he was back to his old habits."

"Was he using with you? Is that why your relationship ended?"

This was a difficult question, in part because I wasn't sure. We had been fuck buddies for a few years having had sexual relations on numerous occasions before he intrigued me with the idea of wanting to date. I had never dated a 'trick' before and generally speaking I didn't think it was a good idea. Because of my penchant for raw sex, I had a tendency to get tricks with lower self esteem and usually a high percentage of drug users. Which at the time I didn't see as problematic, since I knew I wasn't using myself. But I knew the trend, no one with a high sense of self was out in the streets having unprotected sexual intercourse with multiple partners, it just wasn't something that anyone with a high sense of self worth was doing. I knew clearly my stable of men was more or less damaged goods.

But my vanity had piqued my curiosity, what could Kurt have possibly seen in me during our wordless interactions that he wanted to date me? I knew visits to my apartment were more revealing then when I would deliver to my waiting bottom in whatever shacks they lived in. I think I dated him because I was surprised he had seen me beyond just being a piece of meat. But is that a good reason to date someone? Shouldn't the standards be a bit higher? I hadn't even realized he was taller then me until we were dating. I had always seen him horizontally up until that point.

"I wasn't aware of any drug use while we were dating. He may have been smoking post but he never did it in front of me. He got physical with me is why I broke up with him."

Now remember I am STILL on the phone with my brother who had called around 9:30pm and it was now close to eleven o'clock, my responses to Mrs. Binswanger were a bit spaced out with my traveling back and forth between phones, and I wasn't always hearing the tone of the message over the droning of my brother.

Kurt had punched me in the chest, hard, on the escalator at the Union Square location of Barnes & Nobles. I thought we were being playful he had said something about his bowels or something I hadn't really heard him and kept up with my mischief but was rudely awakened when his fist hit me dead center in the chest enough to knock the breath out of my lungs.

I had treated him like a king, white water rafting dates, where we wore thematically matching T-shirts, I think his the Joker and mine Batman. I had picked him up from the airport when he had came back from a trip with his parents, something that seems like a romantic staple in all the rom coms. I had filled my studio apartment with red balloons for a Superman themed birthday party, I remember nearly being asthmatic after blowing up over two hundred balloons by hand. It was a a silly, geeky adventure-filled courtship. And now it had come to an end.

That is the one thing I could never tolerate from any man, you will not put hands on me. My first boyfriend had said 'They're love taps.' I told him I will 'Love break his neck if he put hands on me', I had no toleration for what is commonly known as intimate partner violence and I wasn't going to be on either side of it. I broke up with him a week later. He knew he had fucked up majorly, he had never had anyone treat him as well as I did and he instantly regretted his actions.

"Oh no, I am so sorry. That may have been drugs. He's blown up with us lately, but nothing physical."

"This is ancient history. I could tell even then he had some emotional issues that hadn't been resolved. Nothing to apologize for he learned that that was inappropriate behavior because I broke up with him soon after the incident."

"My opinion is he needs therapy and has needed it for years. But he has to want to get help."

"We totally agree and are urging him to get it. So far, he doesn't want it."

"Well that's the hardest part admitting there's a problem.

"Are you and your husband getting support around these issues? There are AA groups for families to talk about how to deal with addiction issues with a family member."

"We are working with NA and AIAnon groups.

"We had our first meeting today. We used their website to get some book recommendations which have helped both of us. Our family and friends have been very supportive."

"I'm happy you're getting support. You will need it through this very difficult time."

"Amen!"

I then sent her two of my favorite photos from when I was dating her son.

"Thank you, he looks so happy and healthy. *sad emoji*"

"I treated him well. I would like to think he has happy memories of me. I always tried to model healthy behavior for him."

"He's only spoken well of you. Your photos were hung in his room."

[Photo by Brown Estate]

#writing #journal entry #exes #substance abuse #scam alert

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schrijverr · 2 years ago

Text

Life Is Ours, We Live it Our Way 3

Chapter 3 out of 18

Genderqueer Stevie with platonic soulmates Robin and Eddie living their best queer life.

In this chapter, Eddie, Robin and Steve visit more of the city, ending up at a queer meeting space. There Steve is fascinated by the drag queens and gets pulled into their circle, given a little makeover and is invited to a show.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: vague AIDS crisis mention, Steve's childhood mention, brief smoking mention, nightmare and a panic attack

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bisexual?

Robin and Eddie come spilling back into the room with breakfast right as Steve is finishing up his hair. Happily, he takes his coffee telling Robin she is an angel as he gives her a sleepy kiss on the cheek, only for Eddie to demand: “Hey, I’m an angel too! I was there ordering you coffee right alongside her. Where is my kiss?”

It’s obviously a joke, but Steve kisses his cheek anyway, deciding to fuck it. Eddie gapes at him for a second, before grinning widely and proclaiming: “You have broken my curse! I shall not be a frog any longer, but a prince.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve shakes his head fondly. “It’s too early for your dramatics.”

They sit on the bed to eat their donuts and drink their coffee, making plans for the day. Eddie had asked around in the club for places to go and had gotten an address of a common meeting place where people organized themselves and hung out. He asks: “Did the girl, who gave you her number have any places?”

Before Steve can answer, Robin exclaims: “You got a girl’s number? We went to a gay club and you got a girl’s number?”

Again someone else speaks before he can, because Eddie is grinning: “No one is safe from the Harrington charm, are they, Stevie?”

“She just thought I looked lost, which I did,” Steve pouts. “She was nice and she explained stuff to me. Besides, I just accidentally washed her number of my hand, so unless we bump into her again, she’s not gonna be of much help.”

“I still want to visit the Museum of Art,” Robin notes.

“So, museum in the morning, queerness in the afternoon,” Eddie suggests, making Robin snort as she and Steve agree.

Museums have never been Steve’s thing, but Eddie looks interested and Robin is rambling along, so he is happy to be there. They spend most of their time in the gift shop looking for the perfect post card to send Vicky, making fun of Robing all the way. Though they do help come up with a killer text on it.

Steve also decides to send one to Dustin, Max and Mrs. Byers, while Eddie writes and sends one to his uncle.

Then they go and try to find the address, getting lost three times, before they find the hidden away book store. None of them are sure this is the place, but they go in anyway.

There is an elderly lady behind the counter, who eyes the three of them when they comes in. Steve feels a bit like he’s being judged and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to pass her test. For a second they stand there awkwardly, then the lady asks: “Can I help you?” in a kind voice.

“Yeah, uhm, I was given this address by someone named Darren?” Eddie tells her, for once not his boisterous self. “Told me to ask for a Diana Scott.”

Immediately the lady drops the tentative, almost uncertain look, for a big smile as she says: “Well, you found her. Come on in, dearies. Through here.”

She ushers them through a door at the back and they enter a sort of community center style area where people are painting signs, drinking tea and playing games or doing other stuff. It looks homey and very queer in a good way, Steve thinks.

There is a relaxed atmosphere that doesn’t change with their arrival, though some look up. The people here are dressed more flamboyant than Steve is used too, though they remind him of people at the club from yesterday.

All of them are a little tentative, but the people are welcoming enough. One guy comments on Eddie’s tattoos and Eddie tells him he designed them himself. So, they quickly loose him to a table making big signs. While Robin rambles herself into a card game with a few elderly ladies, leaving Steve on his own.

Steve knows that the normal thing to do is join Robin and try not to be in the way too much. But his eyes keep drifting over to a table in the corner. There a group of men (or he thinks so at least) are sitting and chatting. A few of them are combing wigs, spraying them with hairspray, while another one is behind a sowing machine, pulling a lot of tulle through it.

And he can’t help, but be fascinated by them, drawn to them.

He doesn’t even realize how close he’s gotten until one of them looks up and meets his eye. The person is on the fat side and has no eyebrows, though a kind face. In an interested voice, he asks Steve: “What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here?”

“Uhm, I-” Steve blushes at the question, before finding himself answering honestly: “I was here to support my friends, but I'm starting to think I'm here for me as well…”

“Oh, a baby gay, don't worry, honey, we've got you,” the drag queen exclaims. “Here, sit. I’m Madame Tucker.”

“Steve,” he replies. “And it’s okay. I don't want it to seem like I'm hijacking their weekend,” he tells him, then asks: “Sorry, is that stupid?”

“Ahw, not at all, doll,” Madame Tucker assures him. “Just sit down, we won’t tell your two little friends. Here. Come on. Sit.”

Without thinking about it, he sits on the empty chair next to Madame Tucker, who is brushing through a wig. It’s huge, reminding him of the beehive his mother has in pictures from before he was born.

“It’s for my next performance,” Madame Tucker tells him. “Me and the girls got a couple of gigs in the clubs around town.” He is gesturing to the other drag queens, but the word ‘girls’ doesn’t feel out of place, even if some of them have a beard. “You ever been to a show?” he asks Steve.

Steve slowly shakes his head no, as if he’s afraid of disappointing Madame Tucker. And when he thinks about it, he kinda is.

“That’s alright, we can’t all be perfect,” Madame Tucker tells him with a wink. “But we can rectify it. Here, we preform tonight at this address.” He is handed a piece of paper. “You and your friends should stop by.”

“I’ll try to convince them. Thank you,” he says softly.

“God, you are a sweetheart,” Madame Tucker coos, taking his chin between his- her? fingers and pinching his cheek. Then she tilts his head and says: “God, you’re gorgeous. Look at your bone structure. Oef. What I couldn't do to you with a bit of gloss, some lashes. You could make a splash, honey.”

And Steve knows that comment should be weird. His face is practically being cradled by a drag queen in the backroom of a random bookstore as she tells him he would look good in makeup. That he is pretty. That he has good bone structure. Yet, he can’t help the way his eyes go wide and he softly asks: “Really?”

Madame Tucker’s features soften and she assures him. “Really.”

“Oh,” is all Steve says and he doesn’t think that encompasses what he’s feeling, but it’s the best he can do.

It seems like his reaction is telling Madame Tucker something, though he doesn’t know what that would be. But she lets go of his chin and makes him shuffle closer so that she can explain about what she’s doing to the wig.

More of the people at the table join in, telling Steve about makeup and costumes and playing with their expression.

Steve can only take it all in. Everything they tell him is so new and it should be scary – it is scary – but it’s also fascinating. They tell him about being free of expectations, of expressing themselves, of celebrating something that society tells them shouldn’t be. How it’s about transformation. About feeling at home in their own skin after years of being made out to be different. To be wrong.

What is most curious to Steve is their language. It’s not that they don’t talk English or anything, but the way they throw around names, pronouns, words. Somehow it makes him ache. Because they use drag names, normal names, girls, he, she and none of it is made clear and it all feels natural. Like they don’t have to explain, because it can all exist.

The old definition of bisexual echoes through his brain alongside Brook’s words. These are exactly the people she was talking about and he feels jealous of them, but also awed.

At some point, he meets Eddie’s eyes across the room. He had almost forgotten the two he came here with, too caught up in his own conversation. However, he is forcefully reminded when Eddie mouths ‘you good?’ at him.

He sends him a smile and a thumbs up, which are enough to get Eddie to turn back to his own conversation. But the reminder makes him feel a bit watched.

Still, it’s hard to cling to that feeling when the group turns their conversation towards makeup and how hard it can be to feminize their faces. One of the other drag queens turns to him and sigh: “You would have it so easy. Already those big pretty eyes and cheekbones. Girl, I wish.”

A pleasant tingly feeling goes through him at the words and he stumbles: “Oh, uhm, thank you, I think.”

“You truly are a doll,” the queen tells him, patting his cheek.

“And great hair too, you might not need a wig, if you grow it out a little,” Madame Tucker says, curling a strand around her finger.

“Thanks,” Steve says, this time a bit more proudly, because he puts effort into his hair.

“Can I do something?” Madame Tucker asks, looking mischievous yet sincere. Steve seriously contemplates it.

On one hand, he is aware of Eddie and Robin sending him glances, unsure how jock-y basketball captain King Steve ended up near the drag queens and, despite knowing how stupid it is, he feels like he must maintain something for them. It’s their weekend. Their chance to explore themselves and surround themselves with people like them. It isn’t about Steve and he shouldn’t do anything to take away from them.

However, on the other hand, he is so fascinated with the people and how they live. He wants to touch a part of that. He wants to know whether their comments about his bone structure and eyes are true. He just wants to know.

In the end, the want wins out, because Steve is a selfish person (Robin says he isn’t, but it’s hard to believe sometimes). So, he softly asks: “Nothing drastic, right?”

“No, honey, you can still walk the streets after without fear,” Madame Tucker assures him and he feels very safe under those words.

“Alright,” he says then and it feels like he did something right when she claps her hands excitedly at his decision.

It’s like with his words, the group has been activated. Madame Tucker gets handed a brush and she lightly dusts some blush on his cheeks, before uncapping a gloss and telling him to stay still. She grabs his chin again, holding it lightly. The lip gloss feels tacky and it’s a different feeling than when he kissed girls with it. She unscrews another tube and asks: “Are you going to flinch if I come near your eyes, doll?”

“Maybe,” he squeaks, quite unsure of what his reaction will be.

“Well, try not to. And look up,” she tells him cheerfully, before removing his glasses and bringing the black brush towards his eyes. It’s terrifying. Steve desperately wants to blink to get away, but he is also still. Frozen by fear and anticipation. He wonders what he looks like.

“There you go,” Madame Tucker says when she’s done. “You’re a natural at this, dear. Can I touch your hair? You obviously put work into it, I won’t change it if you don’t want me to.”

And again Steve is glad she recognized it without making it into a dig about him being vain. He might be a bit vain with his hair, but doing his hair is calming and it reminds him of when he was little and his mom still cared enough to help him. It’s nice.

Still, he can’t help but be curious what the people around him will do to it and Madame Tucker promised she wouldn't do anything too crazy. He trusts her, for some reason. So, he shrugs: “Sure, why not.”

“That is a good attitude,” she grins, before getting up to stand behind him.

He had forgotten how nice it is to have his hair played with. Not that this is exactly playing with it, but Madame Tucker is gentle as she styles his hair. It’s nothing like his mother harshly combing it down and lathering it with gel in the hopes it’ll do what she wants it to. The process is gentle and he feels cared for. It’s a strange feeling, but a nice one.

Once she’s done, he is presented with a mirror and his glasses. His heart leaps to his throat as he puts them on views himself in the reflection.

The person that looks back from the mirror feels a bit like a revelation.

His cheeks are dusted pink and with the mascara it gives him a slightly innocent look. Big eyes and a blush. His lips have a shine to them, making them appear plumper, almost giving him a pout like those girls who flirted with him.

And then his hair.

Steve has always known how to style his hair. He liked doing his hair, he spend years trying to craft a routine for himself in that large empty house that had nothing better to do. He looks at current movie stars, at people on TV for inspiration and he found something that works for him. This is nothing like that.

Madame Tucker didn’t do anything drastic like promised. But, if possible, his hair has even more volume and it’s- well, it’s hard to describe, but it’s fluffier and has more swoosh.

With big eyes, he looks at himself. Tentatively reaching out to the mirror, before stopping himself, because it’s stupid. Though, he can’t help, but touch his own cheek, wondering if it’s real.

It’s real.

Fuck.

He can’t believe he’s looking at his own face right now. The changes are subtle, but he can’t deny his face is more feminine. He looks softer. It has opened up his face, made it more welcoming, kinder. And he can’t deny how much he likes it.

Steve has never liked how he carries the sternness of his father in his face. How easily he could turn his face angrily and intimidating. He has never liked the sharpness of his mother he carries in his features. How easily his eyes judged.

But with the makeup he looses a bit of his harshness. In his face he sees the welcoming aura he tries to give off to the party when he hosts their DnD nights or keeps vigil by the pool so that they can swim when it’s hot.

He sees the title of mom they gave him, which is mostly a joke to them, though it slips out in emotional moment too. And even though he knows it’s a joke, he can’t help but try to be better than his own mother. To be warm and understanding like Joyce is to her boys. To be there like Mrs. Henderson. To encourage dreams like Mrs. Wheeler. To be funny and kind like Mrs. Sinclair. To keep trying like Ms. Mayfield. To be what the kids need him to be.

Not only that, but he looks more innocent too. Like he hasn’t seen the world ripped apart with only the ugly sides showing. Like a girl never disappeared from his garden while he was oblivious. Like he didn’t watch his friends almost die. Instead, it’s like he has a bit of his obliviousness back, even if it’s only in his face.

It’s nice even if it isn’t true. Steve knows he can never go back to unknowing the Upside Down, but the look lessens the blow. Softens the nightmares he has and the days he hates himself for all the ways he falls short. Like a bow on a badly wrapped present.

And yeah, even if he could, he will never remove those experiences, because he likes the person they made him. He likes being who he is now. How he is coming closer to finding himself. To being a person.

Steve likes being a person, who might not be the smartest and might not have all the answers, but who is there open and sweet. He looks like someone you can talk to.

He likes being the person people talk to. Whether it’s because they need company, advice, help or just to flirt. Steve has always been social. It’s what made him great at the social events of his parents even as a child. He likes being approachable. He never liked how King Steve had to have that air of untouchable around him.

Because Steve wants to be real. He wants to know that he’s here and like all the others. That he can be innocent, playful. That it doesn’t have to be all his responsibility, but that it is still known that he is there for those who care to talk to him. And that is what this look gives him.

In short, he looks in the mirror and sees himself looking back.

“Wow,” he breathes softly and he knows it sounds underwhelming, but he doesn’t know how to put in words what he is feeling right now. All he can do is stare.

“There she is,” Madame Tucker says at the comment anyway sounding proud and fond, like she was waiting for exactly that response. And he finds truth in her words, because there he is. That’s him, like a very real him.

After all the talks of the afternoon, the pronoun doesn’t really register, just the feeling of rightness that comes over him. Though he has no clue what to do with it.

He feels like he is meeting himself, which is stupid, because he’s known himself all his life. Yet here in this backroom with people who are practically strangers he has learned a lot about who he is, who he can be and, most importantly, who he wants to be.

It’s a lot to take in and he still knows he’s going to have to turn it all over in his mind some more later. Maybe even talk about it. Though he hopes that won’t be soon.

As if trying to curse him, Eddie appears right next to him in the mirror, nearly making Steve jump out of his skin. He takes Steve in as Steve holds his breath, unsure of the reaction he wants Eddie to have to him.

“Looking good, princess,” Eddie smiles, it isn’t sharp or teasing, just kind with dimples. “Robin said she wants to check out this diner recommended to her, but we can wait a bit if you’re still busy, no problem.”

Relief loosens in his chest. Eddie didn’t ignore it, but didn’t make a comment that expects an explanation. Steve just smiles, looking at Eddie via the mirror. He has never cared much about his own reflection but now he can’t seem to look away. He blinks, then says: “No, I’m good to leave now. It’s okay.”

“Alrighty, I’ll go save Robin from herself with the way she’s eyeing those books out there. She really needs to read first before buying more,” Eddie says. “See you out front?”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve easily agrees, before Eddie walks away.

“That’s a good one right there,” Madame Tucker whispers in his ear as they watch Eddie go. “I would keep him if I were you.”

Steve blushes at the comment, but he can’t deny it either, he can’t imagine a world without Eddie in it, just like he can’t imagine a world without Robin. “I’m trying,” is all he says.

“Good,” she nods. “Now, you can keep these, alright?” Madame Tucker hands him the gloss and mascara. “I know that look. You need a start if you ever want to try again.”

“What? No. I- I can’t take these,” Steve splutters, trying to hand them back. “I can buy them myself if I really want to. You don’t just have to give them to me.”

“I know, but I want to, honey,” she tells him gently. “It’s hard to walk into a store and buy these things for the first time. I’m just removing a hurdle. If you wanna make it up to me, you can tip me generously tonight. Is that okay, doll?”

“If you’re sure…” Steve trails off, not really wanting to give the makeup back now that he has permission.

“I am,” Madame Tucker smiles kindly. “Do you still have the piece of paper with the information about the show?” He nods. “Can I see it again?” she asks and he hands it over without hesitation. She quickly scribbles something under it, before handing it back. “Call me if you’re in a crisis. We help each other here, honey. I’m looking out for you now.”

It’s almost embarrassing how close to crying Steve comes at the words, so he just nods and whispers a small thanks, clutching the piece of paper tightly.

He is always the one looking out for others and though he loves being that person, it can be quite hard sometimes. To have someone offer aid so unconditionally makes his head spin. Before he can think better of it, he hugs Madame Tucker, then reverently folds the piece of paper and sliding it in his wallet. He’s not loosing another phone number this trip. Especially not this one.

Then he takes a deep breath and waves goodbye, before going to join Eddie and Robin in the bookstore front.

What he doesn’t know is that Eddie has frantically whispered his perception of the events to Robin when he got there, warning her to be nice about and not make it a big deal. So, Steve is filled with apprehension as he comes closer to her, trying to act casual as he greets her.

“Hey, you have fun?” he asks her, tasting a chemical imitation of cherry as he nervously bites his lip.

“Lots,” she smiles. “You looked like you were having fun too. Looking good, dingus.”

“Oh, well, yeah, it’s-” he begins unsure of how he wants to end. “They were nice. It was interesting and I didn’t want to be in your way, so you know.” He shrugs again.

“You’ll never be in our way and you can always talk to us,” Robin tells him gently. “But you don’t have to.”

Besides her Eddie nods. “We’re just happy that you’re here.”

Warmth flutters through his chest as he smiles at them. He isn’t ready to talk about it, but he knows he doesn’t have to, he can just figure it out and they’ll be there if he needs them. It’s a comforting feeling. “Thanks,” he says softly, before clearing his throat. “So what have you got there?”

Robin looks at the book in her hands, seemingly reminded, before pleading: “My favorite dingus, you have to help me. Please tell Eddie that I can buy this book. It’s about a lesbian vampire. It’s a gothic novel, I have to have it!” she pleads.

“Robbie, don’t you think you should read the other books you bought first?” Steve asks her, knowing how much she loves buying books and how she procrastinates on reading them.

“I know, but where in Hawkins, Indiana am I going to find a lesbian book, Stevie. I need to buy it now,” she tells him.

He regards her for a moment and her eyes grow wide in that way she knows he isn’t immune to and it’s all unfair. With a sigh he slumps and holds out his hand. “Just give me the damn book, Rob. It’ll be a birthday present and only if you finish one of your other books, or I’m saving it for Christmas, you hear me.”

“Loud and clear,” she grins widely as she hands him the book.

Eddie slides up next to him and says: “So much for me saving her. I was getting so close in denying her. You coddle her.”

“Oi, I’m right here,” Robin protests.

“Yeah, and you know precisely how hard I find it to say no to you,” Steve huffs. “You’re playing me like a fiddle and it’s unfair.”

“Ahww, you poor thing,” Eddie teases. “How can we make it up to you?”

And Steve knows it’s teasing, but there is no better way to bring it up really, so he says: “Well, I have been invited to a show tonight, you can come with me?”

“A show?” Eddie repeats and Robin is on his other side, her curiosity obviously piqued.

“Yeah, uhm, a drag show. I had never been, so they invited me and I thought we could go together, you know. Find a new spot than the club we went to yesterday. But you don’t have to if you think it’s stupid,” he quickly backtracks.

“No, I’d love to that sounds great!” Robin immediately says.

Eddie nods vigorously. “I’ve always wanted to go to one. It’ll be fun!”

A knot loosens in Steve’s chest and he grins: “Great, then it’s a plan. Now lets buy this book so we can go find food somewhere.”

Diana is behind the counter smiling at the trio. When Steve comes with the book, she rings him up and says: “I see some of the girls got their hands on you. I hope they were nice to you, they can be a bit overwhelming. But you look very pretty, dear.”

“Oh, thank you,” Steve says, feeling a bit shy. “They were very nice to me.”

“That’s good,” Diana tells him. “Everyone needs some people to lean on. Here, that’ll be 10 dollars.”

Steve pays, trying to ignore Robin and Eddie, who heard the entire interaction. He knows they have already commented on it and said they were fine and not going to mention it unless he does. But he feels a bit vulnerable and shy about it and the compliments are making him happy, but also a bit bashful. Though the positive reactions are very helpful, it also makes him wonder if it’s not too obvious.

He wants to inspect himself again in the store window, but pushes down the instinct. He doesn’t want to pull attention to it. He’s just being dramatic. They just saw him before, that’s just how they know.

Besides, he doesn’t want to scrub it off. He feels nice, maybe a bit unsure, but also comfortable, confident. He doesn’t want to give that up yet. Furthermore, he’s been winning fights lately. He’ll be fine.

Luckily, before he can spiral again, Robin has hooked her arm into his, Eddie doing the same on the other side, as Robin dramatically exclaims: “I have been tipped off about a diner where they sell the best burgers. Now I don’t know if that is true, but I want to find out.”

“We shall help you on your burger journey, brave adventurer,” Eddie exclaims with a dramatic flourish and Steve is laughing at their antics, worries already forgotten.

The burgers are very good and they get an idiotic picture out of it with Robin being smushed between Eddie and Steve, holding the camera as they all try to get into frame. Eddie has two fries in is mouth to make vampire teeth, Robin is using a piece of lettuce as a tongue and Steve is holding a slice of pickle up as a monocle.

Back at the motel, they clean up and rest a bit before the show later tonight. Steve takes the time to call back to Hawkins.

“Hi, this is the Byers residence, Dustin speaking,” Dustin greets him.

“So you can have manners,” Steve teases.

“Steve!” Dustin grins.

“That’s me,” Steve smiles at hearing his kid happy. “How are you all doing? Nothing bad happened, right? Why are you at the Byers house?”

“Dude,” somehow that makes Steve cringe, “we’re having an epic sleepover. You’re really missing out, the new Byers house has a fire pit. But also we’re in boring Hawkins, I wanna know about your adventures.”

“Well, we went to a museum and a bookstore today, yesterday we just dicked around. We had a burger adventure,” Steve shrugs, not wanting to out his friends. “Most of our adventures are not for your young ears, however.”

“Gross, man,” Dustin exclaims. “I don’t wanna hear about your sex life unless it’s with Robin. I still don’t get why you two won’t just date.”

“Dustin, I’m not starting this with you again,” Steve sighs. “We’re friends. Do you know what a friend is?”

“Of course I know what a friend is, Steve. You two just mesh so well.”

“We also ‘mesh well.’”

“Iew.”

“Exactly. Now shut up about it and give me Joyce,” he rolls his eyes.

Dustin complains a little more, but eventually calls out Joyce and tells her that it’s Steve, who wants to talk to her. She presumably takes the phone, because soon he hears her say: “Hey, Steve. How are you, dear?”

“Hi, Joyce, hopefully I’m not interrupting something,” Steve greets her pleasantly. If there is one thing he’s good at, it’s getting parents of other people to like him. It’s just his own that he never figured out how to please.

“Not at all,” Joyce assures him. “Social call or did you want to ask something?”

“Just checking in,” Steve tells her, suddenly blushing. “It’s a bit stupid, but I just wanted to make sure nothing bad was happening to you and the kids. I’m not used to not seeing them for more than a day.”

“It’s not stupid,” Joyce assures him in a kind voice. “God knows how often I check in with Will after everything.”

The reassurance is nice and settles something in his heart. He smiles. “Thanks. Are all the kids alright? Dustin mentioned a sleepover. They’re not too much trouble, are they?”

“Don’t worry, they’re their usual amount of trouble,” Joyce laughs. “I don’t know how you always do it, driving the kids around everyday. I love them, but I’d go crazy.”

“Ah, they grow on you,” Steve deflects, not wanting to tell her how he prefers their lively bickering over the deathly silence that hangs over his house, making it feel like a tomb.

“Is your trip good?�� she asks. “The break you needed?”

“It’s great,” Steve tells her, glancing to where Robin is reading her old book, because she wants her new book, while Eddie sketches as he hums a random tune. “We’re having fun, you know. Not all things we can tell the kids, but nothing bad. Feels nice to be a stupid teen for a bit.”

“You guys earned it,” Joyce says. “And I trust you all not to do anything too stupid.”

Steve remembers Madame Tucker’s steady hands on his face, the makeup still on there. The realizations about himself he’s semi-ignoring. The culture they’re emerging themselves in and what the general population thinks about it. He wonders if Joyce will classify this as stupid, or if she’d be okay with it all.

Thickly, he swallows and tries a smile, though he’s unsure if it’s successful, as he replies: “We won’t.”

“That’s good to hear,” Joyce tells him and in the background he hears some yelling. “Oh, I have to go, sorry. Good to check in.”

“Yeah, no, of course, tell them I said hi,” Steve replies.

“I will, you too!” Joyce says goodbye and they hang up.

Steve turns to Robin and Eddie and says: “The kids are doing fine, they’re having a sleep over at the new Byers house. Joyce says hi, by the way.”

“Well, I, for one, don’t mind the babysitting break, those twerps can get on your nerves. But I’m glad they’re doing okay,” Eddie shrugs, then peels himself off the bed. “Now, I am going to get changed. If I’m going to a drag show, I’m doing it right.”

“What is right in this context?” Robin asks the question Steve wants to ask as well.

Eddie turns around dramatically, lit from behind in the bathroom door as he strikes a pose and says: “Flamboyantly.”

Robin giggles at his antics and Steve smiles.

The three of them get ready after that. Eddie keeps true to his word of flamboyant, in his own way. He is wearing a white wife-beater that’s cut so low you can almost see his nipples, his leather jacket and leather pants filled with chains. There are also an abundance of chains around his neck and his fingers are filled with rings.

While Robin has decided to lean more masculine, practically wearing a full suit, even digging out a small top hat, which she bought on their first day in town. She looks good and Steve makes sure to tell her that, Eddie wolf whistling.

Steve himself isn’t sure what he wants to wear. This is the chance to do something daring, see how he likes it, but it’s also scary. He has pulled out his nicest pants that make his ass look great, but all his shirt options are bad and it’s too hot for a sweater.

He sighs and goes over his shirts again. It’s stupid, he tries to tell himself, there’s nothing wrong with the shirts and you shouldn’t have to dress up for a fucking show. But the shirts all just stare back at him with their straight collars and stupid buttons.

Just when he’s about to give in and pick one, Eddie is at his side, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looks back and Eddie looks both determined and unsure as he asks: “Do you trust me to fuck up one of your shirts? You don’t have to wear it if you hate it.”

While fucking up a shirt doesn’t sound promising, Steve just wants something else to wear. So he gestures to the pile and says: “Go nuts, right now I hate all of them anyway.”

Eddie doesn’t comment on his, lets be honest here, whine and just plucks a shirt from the pile. It’s one he doesn’t wear often and he’s sure he’ll appreciate it later as Eddie digs out a pair of scissors to go to town on the shirt.

“How insecure are you about your scars?” Eddie asks, when he’s done with the sleeves and collar.

“Why?”

“I wanna crop it – it’s all the rage, you know – but I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” Eddie answers.

“Oh, that’s nice. Thank you,” Steve says, surprised by the caring words and realizing why Eddie is probably wearing a deep neckline, instead of a crop top himself. “I’m good with my scars. They’re not too bad.”

“Nah, everyone has their story,” Eddie agrees, before cutting off the bottom of the shirt, before turning to the rest of it. Once he seems satisfied, he holds it up with a flourish. “Tadaa!”

The shirt now has shorter sleeves with a slight slit down the middle, the whole collar is gone too alongside the few buttons in the front, giving it a V-neckline, and it’s cropped. All in all, it’s nothing like anything Steve is used to wearing, but he can’t wait to try it on.

“Thanks,” he smiles and takes it from Eddie, handling the shirt with care, as if it’s fragile or precious.

He retreats to the bathroom, first wanting to see for himself before Robin or Eddie saw. Maybe to give himself a way out, too.

So, he doesn’t face the mirror as he slides his old shirt over his head, inspecting his chest. The scarring could have been much worse and all he really lost were his abs and his pecs. He mourns for his pecs mostly, but he can live without the rest. Alright, so confident about that, cool, good to know he hadn’t been lying to Eddie just then.

Cautiously, he slides on the shirt, closing his eyes as he turns around, even if it makes him feel a little stupid. He takes a deep breath, heart beating loudly in his throat, then he opens his eyes.

The shirt looks good on him. Without it being tucked into his shirt, it’s wide enough to flare out, giving him a different silhouette. The slit in the sleeves ensures that he looks softer while still having his arms on display. It’s nice.

In the tiny bathroom is also his toiletries bag, within which he had shoved the mascara and the lip gloss. While eating the burger, he’d lost most of the gloss and he knows he can reapply it now if he wants to.

Still, he hesitates. It’s probably weird, right? It’s weird for him to put it on. He knows Madame Tucker thought he would want to and he can’t deny he liked how it looked. But he knows he shouldn’t. What would his father do to him if he ever saw? It isn’t who he’s supposed to be, so he should just throw both items away and chalk it up to wanting to be nice.

‘You can do whatever you want and be whoever you want with whomever you want’

Brook’s words ring through his head again and he feels sad that he washed off her number. She was nice and confident. He likes that. He’s also a bit jealous.

He realizes then that he can be her right now. Confident. Being who he wants. So, he takes out the lip gloss with shaking hands. He has no clue what he’s doing and by the time he’s done, he needs to wipe around his mouth with a piece of toilet paper. But he did it. His lips have that gloss again and it makes him smile at his reflection.

“Hey, Stevie, did you OD in there?” Robin asks with a tentative knock.

Apparently he’s been in there for longer than he realized and he feels bad about worrying Robin, but he is also happy with how he looks. He hasn’t been this happy with himself since that first time Robin gave him a comfortable sweater. He doesn’t even mind the glasses anymore.

“I’m good,” he grins as he throws open the door, deciding to ride this high and just step out before he can overthink it.

Eddie wolf whistles for him, just like he’d done for Robin, while Robin gives him a wide grin as she says: “You look amazing, dingus!” and hugs him closely.

“Yeah?” he asks shyly.

“Course, we wouldn't lie to you, sweetheart” Eddie assures him, slinging an arm over his shoulder.

“Uh-huh,” Robin agrees. “I’ve always told you when you look like shit,” and that’s not a lie, she can be brutally honest. No filter, you know.

“Thanks,” he grins, shaking the feeling off. He doesn’t want to talk about it yet and they seem content to put his mind at ease without demanding explanations of his inner workings that he himself doesn’t really grasp either. “Lets get this show on the road.”

The club Madame Tucker is preforming at is slightly different from the one they were at the day before. It’s a bit smaller and has a podium in the back. It feels more homey, more intimate, but in the end still like a club.

Steve is driving again, after the Russians, he doesn’t care much for getting wasted anymore, so he lets Eddie and Robin enjoy themselves.

Though, unlike last time, he doesn’t stay on the sidelines. He isn’t really looking to get laid or anything, or flirt for that matter. He’s too confused about himself right now to want to try anything new, but he wants to be part of it anyway.

So, he dances with Robin and Eddie again, much like they had done before. It’s silly and fun and this time he isn’t busy with thinking about how he might look to others.

Then the music shuts off and a drag queen comes onto the stage. She is breathtaking. She doesn’t necessarily look like a woman, more an exaggerated idea, or an art piece about what society thinks a woman is. But Steve is mesmerized.

He stands in the crowd, watching with big eyes as she introduces the night and talks about the lovely performances they’re gonna see. She makes dirty jokes, funny comments and is overall very charming as she explains about tipping for the newbies in the crowd.

Steve loves her.

The whole evening is filled with a wide variety of drag performers. There are drag kings in exaggerated top hats with mustaches made of gems, who perform numbers from gentlemen in musicals, hopping around the stage as they go. It’s both a mockery of what expected of a man and a celebration of it. It tugs at Steve in a different, but good way.

However, it’s the drag queens that make his night. They have pretty furls, big wigs, bold makeup, exaggerated shapes and huge presence. They prance around the stage like they’re the great pop women of their age.

They move their hips, wink over their shoulders. They interact with the crowd flirtily and shake their padded asses, while also performing athletic marvels with splits and flips. He can’t deny the masculine shoulders and arms on them, but the way they act makes that it falls away in the grant picture.

He can’t tear his eyes away. He knows he must look a little stupid, because he stands near the stage with wide eyes as he stares up. But he can hold out the ones he made sure to pick up to tip the drag artists and makes sure to hold them out when they come to collect, because he might not have the most after his parents made him responsible, but he knows he has enough.

When Madame Tucker takes the stage, he almost doesn’t recognize her. However, the beehive wig he saw her work on is pretty recognizable. Then she introduces herself with a joke, before I Will Survive starts playing.

And as she preforms, she looks like a true queen. At least in Steve’s opinion. She practically stomps over the stage, lip syncing to the song with defiant rage and triumph. She owns the stage, the crowd cheering like she’s a god.

The fat on her cheeks is harshly contoured to carve out feminine cheeks and her brows are thin and high. Her lips are a bright red that enhance every word as she spits it out. Her movements are large, the costume intensifying each dramatic moment.

When she plants down her heeled foot, her thighs jiggle. When she turns around, her boobs move with her. When she throws back her head, her wig stays in place though the big hive shifts precariously.

She is beautiful.

Steve both wants to be her and part of her crowd. He wants to be part of the energy that is feeding her, wants to catch her attention and have her smirk and wink at him. But he also want to know what it’s like to be so uniquely herself, to stand there with confidence and an innate understanding of who you are and where you came from.

In the end, he gets part of his wish, because she does spot him in the crowd. She looking up at the heavens as she scream-lip syncs: “Oh no, not I, I will survive!” then looks down and spots him, her lips curling into a smile as she continues: “Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive.”

She walks towards him, leaning over as he holds up money. It’s the most he’s given all night, but he knows not a million dollars can return the favor, so he doesn’t care. As she leans close, she cups his cheek, the crowd cheering, as she continues: “I’ve got all my life to live. And I’ve got all my love to give and I’ll survive.”

The money is taken out of his hand and seductively put into her bra, before she’s pulling away and dramatically going: “I will survive!”

If Steve hadn’t stopped believing the second time he was dragged into this Upside Down bullshit, with the kids, who shouldn't have to face this, the experience would have made him holy, he’s sure of that.

Steve has no clue what Robin or Eddie did during the performances, just that they were somewhere near him. Robin later talks a bit about making out with a hot girl and how she is so correct about girls being the best option, while Eddie mentions he’s been hanging around him. Yet, everyone has disappeared for him.

He is not alone, but part of something more. Something that he melts into until it feels he’s by himself.

They spill out the club in a daze. Or maybe that’s just Steve. Robin is giggly from the alcohol, but you won’t know that Eddie is unfit to drive with his tolerance. So, Eddie is carting Robin along, indulging her weird rambles, while Steve’s mind is on the show, grin splitting his face as he practically drifts into the car.

During the drive he comes back enough to hear Robin go: “I mean, I think I wouldn't like being a building, you know. I hate sitting still and I could never shut up. Not to mention that I’d hate the idea of people walking around inside me.”

“Even if they’re hot girls,” Eddie teases.

“Oh shut up,” Robin blushes.

Steve laughs at her, before adding his own two cents: “At least as a building you’d be sturdy. I don’t know how you’re not knocked over every time the wind blows.”

“Har, har,” Robin pouts. “I am the pinnacle of staying upright.”

Now both Steve and Eddie send her unimpressed and disbelieving looks. Just today Robin had nearly fallen over multiple times in the museum. It seems like with the looks, she realizes what she’s just said, because she snorts then laughs: “Yeah, okay, I deserved that.”

They pull up to the hotel and Robin can walk a bit more normally again. But since they have established that’s not the best, Steve hovers around her just in case.

Inside, he makes sure she drinks some water and changes her clothes before crashing, since he knows she hates sleeping in her day clothes. She pouts and complains and Steve rolls his eyes before helping her undress. He pulls a shirt over her head and reaches under to unclasp her bra, sliding it off, before helping her into the sleeves.

He practically carries her to the bathroom where she pees, before Steve brushes her teeth. She is already falling asleep as he does. So, he carries her back and tucks her in.

Sleepily, she mumbles: “You’re my hero, Stevie,” planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek, before falling on her pillows and drifting to sleep.

Eddie snorts: “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re dating. I don’t know why you two are so confused about why Dustin thinks it.”

“Hm,” Steve shrugs. “It’s just that we can never imagine dating. Like, I want her in my life forever and I’d do anything for her, but dating? Nah. So, it’s strange to see things not meant as romantic be seen as such. Plus, Henderson can be annoying about it.”

“You got that right,” Eddie smirks. “Anyway, since it’s not romantic, would I be able to entice you to give me the drinking babysitter special treatment?”

Steve raises a brow, then asks: “It’s not that believable with your tolerance.”

“Ahww, don’t you love me, Stevie?” Eddie pouts.

And the truth is, Steve does love Eddie. He’s not yet sure how he loves Eddie, but he knows the other has become very important to him. They went through a lot of shit together, they recovered together and now Eddie is being so nice about him discovering… things about himself. So yeah, he loves the guy.

So, he gets up and hands Eddie a bottle of water, before kneeling down and undoing his laces. Eddie stares at him for a few seconds, before swallowing and quickly uncapping the bottle, looking anywhere but Steve as he drinks.

Eddie has already chucked off his jacket, but his pants are still very much skinny and on. Steve gives them a calculating look and says: “I don’t know if I can get those off. Hell, I don’t even know how you got those on.”

“Very unflattering jumping,” Eddie grins, before sobering up. “I might actually need the help in getting them off. Wait a sec.”

He undoes his own belt and shimmies them down until they’re under his ass, before sitting down and holding up a leg, asking: “Can you pull?”

“Sure,” Steve shrugs, before getting to work.

It takes some effort, but eventually they get the pants off. Eddie thanks Steve, who replies: “Don’t worry about it. I’m even more impressed about getting them on, now.”

They both laugh. Then Steve throws a shirt in Eddie’s direction and changes in pajamas himself, before they brush their teeth together. By the time Steve has peed, Eddie is already under the sheets, so Steve slides in and turns off the light.

Next to him, Eddie shuffles around again. His eyes are closed and his breathing even, so Steve assumes he’s asleep. It’s calming background noise and he falls asleep listening to it.

However, the universe in done extending its kindness towards Steve and the night is not peaceful for him. Nightmares return with a vengeance. He can’t save his kids from dying, hears Robin scream and sees Eddie bleed out.

When he wakes up, it’s with a start. Flying upright as he heaves deep breath, barely stifling a scream. He desperately tries to breathe and convince himself it was only a dream.

Suddenly there’s hand on his back and before he can react, he hears Eddie’s voice: “It’s alright, sweetheart. You’re alright. It was just a dream. It’s okay. Just breathe for me. In,” he inhales, “and out,” he exhales. Eddie keeps repeating it, intertwined with soothing comments as he rubs Steve’s back.

The commotion must have woken Robin, because she stumbles over to them and takes one look as Steve, before sighing: “Oh, dingus.”

She also knows how often he struggles with nightmares and how much it can fuck him up. So, she grabs one of his hand and puts in on her chest so that he can feel her heartbeat and how she breathes. Her presence warm next to him as she sits on the other side.

They keep sitting like that until Steve isn’t gasping for breath and his tears have dried. Now that’s over, he feels embarrassed about it, usually managing to keep the two asleep if this happens when they’re near.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Don’t be a dingus,” Robin scolds him. “You’re always fine with us waking you up if we had a nightmare, so don’t you dare think we would find you an inconvenience if you do the same.”

Eddie immediately backs her up. “You deserve to have people to lean on, princess. We’re here for you.”

“Thank you,” Steve chokes out, overwhelmed with emotion. He takes another deep breath and pushes it away as he tries to get up, saying: “I’ll let you get back to sleep now. I’m good. Thank you.”

“And what are you going to do?” Eddie asks with a quirked brow.

“Uhm, I- I don’t know. Maybe a read or something?” Steve shrugs, knowing that his plan is to just sit and wait until the sun comes up, maybe sneak a cigarette even though Robin hates it when he smokes.

“No, na-ah, not happening,” Eddie shakes his head. “If you wanna clean up a bit that’s fine, but you’re coming right back to bed, sweetheart.”

“What? No.” Steve frowns. “I can’t go to sleep again. It’s fine, I swear.”

“I said nothing about sleep, princess,” Eddie grins as if he’s won something. “I just won’t let you mope all night, so you’re gonna come back to bed and me and Robbie here are going to cuddle the shit out of you. No sleeping required if you don’t want to.”

Steve looks uncertain at them, but Robin is picking Eddie’s side as she nods frantically. “Come on, dingus,” she whines. “You never say no to cuddles.”

And she’s not wrong, years of not getting much affection means he now gladly leans in whenever it’s offered. But he doesn’t just want to give in, so he says: “I thought it was too hot to share a bed, remember?”

“The words of a fool,” she smirks. “Now come cuddle!”

So, he abandons his escape to the bathroom and gets back on the bed. Tentatively sitting down, not sure what the plan is.

Eddie has much less hesitation. He just grabs Steve and drags him down, forcefully spooning him from behind. For a moment, Steve is stiff as a board. Then he realizes it feels kind of nice. Like someone literally has his back, protecting him. It’s new, but comforting, so he relaxes.

Robin clambers under the sheets as well, taking Steve’s hands into her own as she faces him, sharing his pillow. Her leg is thrown over both of theirs, all of them tangling together.

Steve is determined not to sleep again, afraid of what his mind will show him. However, it’s hard to keep his eyes open. Surrounded by the warmth of his friends, safely cocooned between them, is one of the most comfortable places he has ever been.

As is customary for him, he looses the fight and falls asleep.

A/N:

Not me coming face to face with the fact that I don’t have many words for my own experiences even as I try to project them onto characters. All I have is good gender vibes with certain things, yet that will not stop me from making it y’alls problem <3

Also, there is a kind of love in staying silent, especially about someone figuring themselves out, and I’ll stand by that. It’s deeply personal and while support is great, sometimes you’re not ready to be pushed and that’s okay. Taking your time is okay.

Confession, I have not yet been to a drag show. I really want to, but I’m anti-social and don’t have many friends to go with me lmao

Btw, I am an agender lesbian, but I am a little bit in love with Madame Tucker, ngl. I hope my writing conveyed how much I love my OC drag queen, bc I will lay down my life for her

#rr writing #tw: nightmares #tw: panic attack #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie lives au #eddie munson #eddie munson & steve harrington & robin buckley #robin buckley #platonic steddie #platonic stobin #steddie #stranger things fic #Life Is Ours We Live It Our Way #Life Is Ours We Live It Our Way Chapter 4 #OCs

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definitelyseven · 4 years ago

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risky business | two

summary: you were hired to be with everyone else but Park Jinyoung

one (m) | two | three |

six months later

You wrapped the silk robe around your body, tying a small knot in the front as you walked downstairs. From a distance, you see a figure sitting by the kitchen island.

“Jinyoung?” you called as you made out his figure.

“Oh is someone upstairs?” he asked, afraid you had company tonight.

You shook your head, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“This is my condo,” he reminded you as he laid his head on the counter.

“No you said I can stay here if I had one of my appointments,” you said. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here.” He groans, gently bumping his forehead on the counter over and over again. “Jinyoung! I booked you a table at the most expensive restaurant in the city, the nicest suite in the biggest hotel on Valentines Day. What happened?” you asked.

“I was getting annoyed,” he complained. “So I left.”

“You can’t leave just because you’re annoyed! Do you know how hard it was to get a table today? Do you know what kind of mess you’ll be leaving me?”

Over these last few months you and Jinyoung have gotten close, especially after that night. You were getting better and better at your job.

“She’ll be fine. I gave her my credit card,” he whined, making you roll your eyes. “I didn’t see Mr. Jeong’s car in the driveway. Where is he?”

“Mr. Jeong is married and needs to be with his wife on Valentines Day. Mr. Kim, though - he’s single,” you smirked.

“Who’s Mr. Kim?”

“My next target,” you revealed. “I’ve done my research and I think he’ll be the best investor for Park Real Estate.”

“How come I didn’t know he’s your next target?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.

You chuckle at him. “I’m getting better at my job, don’t you think?” This time it was Jinyoung’s turn to roll his eyes at you. He makes his way towards you, trapping you in between his arms and the counter.

“If he’s your new target then why isn’t he here?” he says through his teeth.

“He’s single but has a very needy daughter,” you tell him, turning around to face him. “One call and he ran back to her arms.”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of his daughter,” Jinyoung teased, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I can only pretend,” you whispered, leaning in towards his face. Jinyoung flashes a smile at you before leaning in to kiss you. You instantly kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He lifts you up onto the counter as he deepens the kiss.

There’s no doubt that you and Jinyoung’s relationship was complicated. You worked for him but he didn’t necessarily treat you like the rest of his staff. You were more than that to him. You were “special.” But no matter how special you were to him, he would never be caught walking out in public with you.

You slowly pulled away from the kiss. “I haven’t eaten yet,” you whispered against his lips. “I’m hungry,” you revealed, earning a laugh from him.

“What should I make you?” he offered, rubbing his nose against yours.

“You cook?” you asked, surprised.

He scoffed, pretending that he was hurt by your words. “I know how to make a delicious ramen,” he teased. You laugh at him while nodding. You watched him carefully as he prepared the ramen - dropping the instant ramen into a pot of hot water and stirring it. “The secret is the egg,” he said proudly, making you giggle. He chuckles at his own joke. “Come on. It’s almost ready,” he tells you as he helps you off the counter. Jinyoung pulls your body against his as soon as your feet land on the floor. He leans down immediately planting a kiss on your lips, making you giggle.

You sat down on the couch and waited for Jinyoung to bring the ramen over. He sets the bowl on the coffee table and you immediately smelled the deliciousness. “I’m impressed,” you tell him as you moved closer to the table.

“Try it,” Jinyoung says taking a seat next to you and instantly pulling you on his lap. You slurped some noodles into your mouth.

“Mhmmm,” you exaggerated. Jinyoung opens his mouth, signaling you to give him some noodles. You brought the chopsticks up to his lips and watched him slurp up the noodles.

“Shit I did good,” he joked making you laugh. "Let me,” he said as he takes the pair of chopsticks out of your hand. He brings the noodles up to your lips to take another bite occasionally wiping the soup off the corner of your lips. “How do you like it?”

Before you can respond, your phone rings. “Hello?”

“Unnie, where are you? There’s a bunch of men downstairs looking for father. I’m scared,” she cried.

“Wonyoung, listen to me. Lock the door to your room and don’t come out unless you hear me. I’ll be right there,” you promised her. You quickly hung up and got off Jinyoung’s lap. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“I'll take you,” he offers. He holds your hand the entire car ride home. “Don’t worry,” he gives your hand a light squeeze before bringing it up to his lips.

“We’re here. Thank you. I’ll call you tomorrow,” you tell him before rushing out of the car. You run inside your house and see your father on his knees. Your house was a mess.

“Who the hell are you people?” you asked even when you knew who they were.

“This must be your eldest daughter. She’s pretty,” the angry man, smirked. “Your father owes us $200,000.”

“W-what?” you glared at your father. “How could you? We don’t have that kind of money!”

“Don’t lie to me!” the man spatted. “Look at the purse you’re carrying - that’s easily worth $10,000.” You looked down at the purse Jinyoung got you.

You scoffed before dumping everything out of your bag. “Take it. There’s two more like this upstairs but that’s all I have,” you said with tears in your eyes. “You’ve practically searched everywhere, you should know I’m not lying.”

“That won’t do,” he said shaking his head. “That won’t do!” he repeated, slamming his hand on the table, making you jump. He walks up to you, scanning you up and down. “Is your little sister upstairs? I heard she’s pretty too,” he smirked again.

“If you touch her, I will kill you.”

He wasn’t scared though. He only laughed at your words. “I’d like to see you try baby,” he said reaching for your chin. You quickly moved away from his filthy hands.

“Don’t touch me,” you said sternly. “What do you want?”

“I want my money,” he said through his teeth. “Or you can give me your body. I bet I can sell you for a lot of money,” he whispers as his hands wander all over your body.

“She’s more than what her father owes,” Jinyoung said as he enters your house.

“Jinyoung, no. Don’t get involved,” you warned him.

“Is that so? And exactly how much is she worth?” he said getting in Jinyoung’s face.

Jinyoung scoffs and pulls a check out of his pocket. “More than your pathetic little life. Here’s your $200,000. Leave,” he demanded.

“Jinyoung-” you called his name before getting interrupted.

“This is your last chance to take your money and leave. If I have to tell you again, you’ll be walking away with nothing.”

The man glances down at the check and then at Jinyoung. He hesitates for a moment before grabbing the check and instructing his men to leave. You let out a sigh of relief as soon as the last man leaves your house. You immediately rushed upstairs to check on Wonyoung.

“Wonyoungie, it’s me. Open the door.”

Your sister opens the door. “Unnie,” she calls before bursting into tears. “Are they gone?” You nodded, pulling her in for a hug.

“It’s going to be okay,” you assured her.

You made your way downstairs after Wonyoung fell asleep, thinking Jinyoung had left already but he was still there. Your father was talking to him - asking for more money.

“Have you not learned a single thing?” you screamed at your father. “How many times do you have to put us through this?” you continued to shout. Jinyoung makes his way over to you.

“How dare you talk to your father like that?” he shouted back.

“Start acting like our father if you want to be treated like one!” you yelled as tears fall from your eyes. “If you really want to be our father, you would stop gambling. If you cared about us, you’d stop,” you sobbed. You let out a light laugh, “But who am I kidding? You would never do that for us. This is the last time I’m cleaning up your shit,” you warned.

“Walk me out Y/N,” Jinyoung asks, interrupting your conversation. He was trying to calm you down.

“I’m sorry about that. I’ll find a way to pay you back,” you apologized.

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry about. Don’t worry about the money, okay?” he assures you, stroking the hair out of your face. “You can always come to me if you’re in trouble.”

You gave him a weak smile, “I appreciate it.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said before giving your forehead a small peck. “Get some rest.”

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official-weasley · 4 years ago

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Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 1

Theodora Cork has everything she could wish for in the summer before her seventh year. She has Fred and George – her two best friends. She has a brother that supports her with whatever she wants to do with her life. She is an amazing Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team and she is going to spend the summer at the Burrow.

She also has the biggest crush on the twins' brother Bill but the only thing she has with him is an 8 year age difference. Something that doesn't stop Fred, George, and Charlie from getting endless ideas to bring them together.

A/N: I started this blog to write down all my story ideas for our freckled dragon boy but after two stories I decided to give Bill some love too! I wanted to try a different POV this time, so tell me what you think? I like the first-person POV more but this was fun and a bit challenging to write as well!

Also, this is the first time I didn't really stick with the time frame of events (when it comes to Quidditch and them being at the Burrow during summer). I tend to be a perfectionist when it comes to time and events and I wanted to get out of my comfort bubble a bit and see if I can endure changing things! Also, I felt like writing a really positive story full of fluff so I tried removing as many negative things from that timeline as possible.

I know I tormented our Charlie bean in the last two stories even if he got the happy and alternative ending so the next one about him will be nothing but pure fluff! 💙

I just wanted to see if I can write something about our dear eldest Weasley and because I had a rather emotional month it's sweet and might get you diabetes, so beware and I hope you enjoy it! 💙

WARNINGS: none other than Fred & George shenanigans and some Quidditch

Chapter 1 - George's Sacrifice

“She’s going to do it,” Fred whispered to his brother, lurking behind a corner.

“I told you, she’s perfect for the job,” George whispered back.

“Yeah, but she was protesting for 3 days.” Fred tried to defend himself.

“It’s a new product and we didn’t tell her what exactly it does. Of course, she was protesting.”

“We don’t even know what it does, George.” Fred tried rolling his eyes to keep the chuckle in his throat. They couldn’t risk getting caught.

“You know that she’ll murder us both if this goes wrong.” George didn’t dare to look at his twin. He knew that if they lock eyes they will start laughing.

“What are you two good-for-nothing rats sneaking around my office for?” The twins turned around to follow the voice. Their faces were pale and if they thought the whole situation was funny before, they definitely didn’t think so now.

“Theo, he’s on to us! Run!” They said in unison, trying to avoid eye contact with Filch, whose face was getting redder by the second.

“Done! What are you two shou...” The girl that joined them didn’t finish her sentence. She might’ve needed a second to realize there was one person too many standing in the circle.

“As we said...” Fred mumbled.

“Run!” George shouted, desperately trying to find something in his pocket.

Fred grabbed the girl’s hand before she could properly look at Filch who was now grinding his teeth together in anger. There was a loud crackling noise and when the trio turned around to see if Filch was following them the hallway was getting stuffed with dark grey smoke.

“Do you have the map, Fred?” George panted, his hands on his knees.

Fred, who was trying to see if Filch ran after them, shook his head. “Theodora has it.”

They both looked at her while she searched the inner pockets of her robes.

“Here it is!” She exclaimed.

They stuck their heads together, George sneaking a look around them just to be sure no one was watching. They took out their wands and tapped on the map while saying ‘we solemnly swear we are up to no good’.

The empty piece of parchment revealed the map seconds later.

“Right, where’s the nearest escape passage?” Theodora ran her finger through the map, the twins scanning it with their eyes.

“Around the corner,” Fred whispered.

“But Filch can already be there,” Theodora said, concerned. She pointed her finger at Filch’s name on the map. The footprints were getting closer to them. “Do you still have any smoke pastilles?”

“Just one more.” George’s hand already in his pocket as he was trying to find it, his tongue stuck out in concentration. “Got it!”

“Let’s go.” Fred waved his hand at his two friends after checking if the coast is clear.

The trio tip-toed around the corner, George ready to throw the pastille if needed. Theodora was clutching the map, following Filch’s every move. He was getting closer and it looked like they will meet right where they are supposed to enter the passage.

“He’s going to see us,” Theodora said through her teeth, trying to stop her jaw from shaking.

They did shenanigans like this all the time but Filch rarely got so close to catching them. He only did so 3 times since the twins invited her to tag along to one of their adventures as they called it. Fred and George took the blame each time but the last time they were caught, Snape got in their way and they couldn’t lie to McGonagall that Theodora had nothing to do with it.

She received a Howler from her mother every day for a week after that detention. Mrs. Weasley might be frightening with her screams but nothing compared to the promises what Theodora’s mother will make her do when she returns at the end of the school year.

Never-ending chores, no going out, no using magic even though she’s 17, and no avoiding visiting her grandma who always pinches her cheeks so hard that they hurt for days. And most importantly, no writing or receiving a single letter from her two best friends.

Right when they thought they got away and George was the last one to squeeze through the passage he heard Mrs. Norris meow and when he turned around to see if she was close, he saw Filch’s victorious grin.

“No matter what you do, just run straight to the Gryffindor Tower!” George shouted as another cracking sound filled their ears.

Fred and Theodora had no time to question what George was doing, as they heard Filch’s evil laugh and they started running through the tunnel as fast as their legs allowed them.

They didn’t stop nor turned around until they reached the Fat Lady Portrait, mumbled the password, and jumped through the hole. They ran up the stairs of the boy’s dormitories, ignoring the fact that the whole common room was staring at them. They burst through the door of Fred and George’s room and hid under the covers of Fred’s bed.

They didn’t move for solid five minutes. They barely even breathed, not daring to move a muscle. Once they were sure the coast was clear they came from under the covers and saw Lee Jordan staring at them with an amused look on his face.

Theodora and Fred were so busy making sure that Filch didn’t follow them that they failed to acknowledge Lee’s presence. The latter was sitting on his bed, a piece of parchment in his hands, his eyebrows now raised. The duo knew he was practicing his introduction speech for the Quidditch game tomorrow.

“What’s chasing you two?” He giggled.

“Prank gone wrong,” Fred explained. “Filch came back to his office while Theodora was still inside and he chased us.”

“George sacrificed himself for us so we could get away.” Theodora finished.

“Why didn’t you check the map to see if he was coming?” Lee asked puzzled.

“We forgot that Harry gave it to Theo and when we remembered she was already in his office,” Fred answered.

Fred and George gave the map to Harry Potter in his third year since they had it memorized. However, whenever Theodora was anxious about their plan, they asked Harry for the map back because they knew it made her feel better.

“Do you reckon George got caught?” Theodora was biting the inner side of her cheek.

“Didn’t you hear Filch laughing? Of course, he got caught.” Fred frowned.

This didn’t go according to his plan at all. Ever since he, his brother, and Theodora started to invent their own products together, they deemed Filch to be the perfect test subject. Usually, it was easy to get away but lately, Filch has been guarding his office more and they had less time to execute their plan.

Because they were caught, they won’t be able to see if their little experiment worked. George has learned a few years ago that Filch loves candy and what better gift than U-No-Poo in a box with a nice bow and a card that says You deserve it.

Fred and Theodora were getting more nervous by the minute. What was taking George so long? What was Filch doing to him?

One look at her friend and Theodora wanted to get up and investigate the situation when the door opened and George walked in.

“What happened?” The trio in the room asked in unison.

“I think it’s safe to say I am getting a Howler from mum tomorrow.” George sighed.

“We were hoping you got away,” Theodora said sadly.

“I was too slow with the smoke pastille and he grabbed my hand.” George started to explain. “He dragged me all the way to his office and threatened me to hang me by my feet. Luckily McGonagall saw us and demanded to know what was going on at once. Filch, of course, ratted us all out but because you two weren’t there,” George nodded to Theodora and his twin, “she only gave detention to me. One week in the kitchen.”

“That’s not bad at all!” Theodora clapped.

Detention in the kitchen was a piece of cake. They had to obey the elves and usually wash dishes or scrub the floors. It was better than cleaning toilets, something Fred and George had to do last month for releasing a Dungbomb in front of the Great Hall and it beat polishing trophies with Filch any day. Theodora knew a lot about that because of her cauldron disaster in Snape’s class at the beginning of the year.

In a few minutes, they forgot all about George’s detention and were already making a plan to get revenge on Filch. It was getting late and as usual, Theodora fell asleep, kneeling beside Fred’s bed, her head on the mattress.

Because of how often that happened, as the twins and the girl were mostly in the boys’ dormitory, they made a blanket fortress years ago and whenever she fell asleep in their dorm, they simply let her sleep there. They didn’t get in detention for that yet and they didn’t know what else to do, since the boys weren’t allowed into girl’s dormitories to take her back.

—

Theodora woke up before everyone else the next morning. She was a bit disoriented – not knowing where she was. When she heard loud snoring she knew she was in the boys’ dorm. She uncovered herself, with a smile on her face, thankful for how good the twins were to her, and sneaked out.

With all the running and still smelling like smoke, she took a shower and changed her clothes before going down for early breakfast.

The twins were her best friends and she wouldn’t trade them for anyone in the world but sometimes, not having any girl friends, took its toll on her. That’s why she snuck to the Great Hall alone to have some peace and quiet whenever she got the chance.

“Are you nervous, Theo?” George sat down next to her, half an hour later.

“It’s Slytherins, I only have adrenaline in my veins.” She grinned.

“We better beat them today, I am craving a party.” Fred sat on her other side.

“Just direct all the bludgers into their direction so us Chasers can score as many goals as possible before Harry gets the Snitch.” Theodora’s grin turned into a mischievous smirk.

“Oh, you can bet we...”

George gulped, unable to finish his sentence as owls started to fly down to the tables, dropping letters and packages on plates and in student’s hands.

“I told you I’ll get a Howler.” George sighed, staring at the red envelope that started to shake the second it turned to him.

“Open it, George. You know it’s only going to get worse.” Fred said.

“She can’t say anything you didn’t hear before.” Theodora bit her lip, putting her hand on George’s back to comfort him.

Nobody can’t deny that the twins were famous for getting Howlers. By now, everybody knew the high-pitched furious voice that belonged to Molly Weasley. However, no matter how many of these they got, they were still nervous every time.

Both knew that their mum wouldn’t come up with a new punishment. It would be a miracle if she did because they were in detention so much that the most creative Ravenclaw would struggle to find a new way of getting them punished.

Mrs. Weasley tried and hoped through the years that her two sons would grow up and that one day before they finish school, she wouldn’t get a letter from their head of house at least for one week. So far, she was only so lucky once in their fourth year and it was only because they came down with the flu.

George grabbed the Howler and quickly opened it. It was like ripping off a bandage— it was better to do it quicker rather than slower.

“GEORGE WEASLEY, I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU GOT YOURSELF IN DETENTION AGAIN! YOU JUST FINISHED WITH ONE AND HERE WE ARE AGAIN! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED!

I CANNOT BELIEVE PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL ONLY GAVE YOU ONE WEEK WORTH OF DETENTION. THIS IS NOT PUNISHMENT ENOUGH FOR THROWING SOME SMOKE THINGS AT MR. FILCH!

YOU WILL APOLOGIZE TO THAT MAN AND SINCE NOTHING SEEMS TO SUFFICE WITH YOU, I AM TAKING YOUR QUIDDITCH PRIVILEGES AWAY FROM YOU!!!”

Half of the Gryffindor table gasped. They were wrong. She has never done that before.

“She can’t.” Fred banged the table with his fist.

“She probably means for the rest of the year.” Theodora tried staying optimistic.

“This is the last game of the year, Theo.” George buried his face in his hands.

“Indeed.” They all turned around to see Professor McGonagall standing behind them, her face full of disappointment.

“But the game’s today, professor,” Fred whined.

“How are we going to beat Slytherins with one Beater?” George followed his lead.

“There has to be something you can do, professor.” Theodora tried making puppy eyes. “We know how much you want us to win the cup against them.”

“As much as that is true, Miss Cork, I cannot stand between a student and their parent.” The professor furrowed her eyebrows before turning to Fred. “You will have to work for the two of you, Mr. Weasley.”

Before Fred could say anything back she walked away toward the teacher’s table.

“I can’t believe she would do this. Doesn’t she know how important Quidditch is!” George’s face was beginning to match his hair. He got red in the face every time he was mad.

“Well,” Theodora cleared her throat, “you have to give it to her. She finally found a punishment that you didn’t laugh off.”

George glared at his best friend but he knew she was right. There was nothing he could do except to hope that by some miracle Harry gets the Snitch as fast as he possibly can.

—

The second they got into the Quidditch tent their captain Oliver Wood started shouting at George almost as loudly as Mrs. Weasley’s Howler did.

“This is an outrage! Preposterous! How could you! Why do you always have to do this! Can’t you...just for once...stop pranking that old rat and focus on Quidditch!” George’s eyes were closed for most of the time Oliver was shouting at him – he didn’t want his saliva in his eyes.

He knew he was going to yell. It wasn’t the first time the twins missed practice or didn’t attend the game because of detention. He was disappointed to make Oliver so mad as he didn’t intend this to happen.

“I am sorry, Wood. I didn’t know this will...”

“Get...out...of...my...tent!” Oliver said through his teeth before George could say another word.

George stood up and did as he was told. He didn’t want to stand in the crowd full of Gryffindors who were angry at him so he decided to join his friend Lee at the commentator stand.

The second he came up, he heard his head of house sigh. He knew she was disappointed in him and he can’t recall when was the last time he was so upset about something he did wrong if he was ever this upset.

His team was counting on him, this was the last game of the year — the most important game. The game that could win them the house cup. Now it would be a miracle if they would win.

Madam Hooch’s whistle, the roar from other stands, and the voice coming from the microphone right next to his ear made him shake in his seat.

“And another goal for Gryffindor. Gryffindor’s Chaser Theodora Cork is on fire today!” Lee shouted into the microphone.

George looked at the scoring board. 30 – 20 for Gryffindor. It wasn’t a bad start. Theodora scored 2 out of 3 goals and George was proud. She was the best Chaser on their team.

“Due to an unfortunate event, George Weasley cannot be on the pitch today, leaving the Gryffindor team with only one Beater,” Lee commented as McGonagall, who was sitting right behind George, sighed again.

Theodora snatched the Quaffle from one of the Slytherin’s Chasers, flying as fast as her broom allowed her toward the Slytherin hoops.

“That’s another ten points for Gryffindor! I bet Slytherins are getting mad. This was the second time Cork took the Quaffle right before they scored!” Lee tried being biased but sometimes he needed a bit of a nudge from his head of house as he got too excited when Gryffindors scored a goal.

Despite the result being 70 – 30 for Gryffindor, George didn’t dare to get his hopes up.

“Slytherins’ two beaters started playing dirty. Potter spotted the Snitch and they are determined to knock him off his broom!”

All eyes were on Harry now. He was battling with the Slytherin’s Seeker for the Snitch and the Bludger that the two Beaters of the opposite team kept directing toward him was fast approaching.

“Slytherin scored!” Lee shouted less enthusiastically into the microphone. “70 – 40 for Gryffindor. Come on, Harry! You got this!”

George turned to Lee when he heard McGonagall clear her throat. He giggled when he saw her pursed lips, warning Lee to stay neutral by poking him with her opera glasses.

George turned his attention to his brother to see how he was doing. He was trying to catch up with the Slytherin Beaters and redirect the Bludger to their Seeker. He felt so helpless. If he wasn’t caught by Filch, he would be there next to Fred right now and they would free Harry of the stupid ball.

“And Cork stole the ball from the Slytherins again. They sure do have to grow a pair of eyes! She passed the ball to Angelina Johnson and...and...she scored!” Lee was now so excited that he stood up, almost throwing his microphone in the air.

George couldn’t deny that sitting next to Lee was rather amusing. He always listened to his commentary while on the pitch but seeing all of his reactions up close was something else.

“90 – 60 for Gryffindor now. We are still waiting to see who will win the battle for the Snitch!” Lee gripped the microphone tighter, getting nervous. They have been playing for an hour and a half.

“Potter dodged the Bludger twice now but will he be so lucky the third time?”

George couldn’t take his eyes off Harry. His hands in a fist, rooting for the boy to make them win the game.

“In the name of our house’s founder, this is unbelievable!” Lee roared, now standing up. “Fred Weasley managed to catch up to the Bludger and send it straight to the Slytherin Chaser who was just about to score. Angelina Johnson now has the Quaffle! Will she pass it to Cork or will she go to the hoops on her own?”

Lee was jumping in his seat while George didn’t know in which direction to look. He was watching Angelina flying towards the hoops, Theodora watching her back. He wanted to see how Fred was doing but also find Harry to see how close he was to catching the golden ball.

“And Johnson scores again! 100 to... Wait! Wait!” Lee was jumping up and down, trying to gather the words to express his excitement. “We won! We won! Potter caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins!!!”

The crowd roared and as Lee let go of the microphone, George hugged him and they started jumping and cheering.

George turned around to see McGonagall trying hard to stay professional, clapping like mad at the surprise victory. Professor Flitwick, on the other hand, didn’t care if everyone saw he was cheering for Gryffindor as he was dancing in his seat, cupping his mouth, shouting Go, Gryffindor!

His brother has done some memorable things but George couldn’t recall ever being prouder of him than he was at that moment.

—

“Come on, Theo, just one date.” The boy smirked at Theodora who was half laying in one of the armchairs in the Gryffindor common room, trying to study for one of her final exams – Herbology.

“For a millionth time, no, John!” Theodora rolled her eyes. “And stop calling me Theo. Only my friends can call me that.”

“You mean the Weasleys.” John mocked and leaned closer to Theodora.

“Get away from me!” She tried pushing him but he didn’t move.

“Don’t you have someplace other to be, Connorey?” Fred grabbed John’s shoulders and pulled him away from his friend. “Didn’t she reject you like 5 times this week?”

“That has to be a new record!” George appeared next to his brother, smirking.

“And what’s your number?” John looked unamused.

“What? Getting rejected by Theodora?” Fred laughed and sat on one side of the armchair Theodora was sitting in.

“Zero,” George answered and sat on the other side.

They both leaned toward her and gently kissed her cheeks. She giggled, winking at John which only made him madder.

“You should know by now that Theo likes older guys.” George laughed.

Theodora punched him in the shoulder, making him fall off the armchair.

“I’ll wait years for you if needed be,” John said proudly and walked away.

“Thank Godric this is his last year at Hogwarts,” Theodora said with a disgusted expression.

“He just can’t get enough of you rejecting him.” Fred winked at her.

“We have a proposal for you.” George poked his head from the side of the armchair, finally getting up. He leaned on his arms.

“We only have 14 days to go and then we are free for the summer.” Fred copied his movement on the other side.

They were both looking up at Theodora with smug expressions on their faces.

“What are you up to?” She narrowed her eyes at the twins. She knew them well enough to know they were keeping a secret from her.

“We have been friends for how long now, Theo?” George asked.

“Since our second year when you accidentally threw the wrong ingredient into my cauldron instead of that Slytherin’s what his name was...” She rubbed her chin thinking.

“Allevry.” The twins said at the same time.

“Right,” Theodora said slowly. “I got detention in the kitchen and you two felt bad for getting me in trouble so you sneaked inside and helped me clean the dishes.” She giggled.

“And we haven’t looked back since.” Fred sighed dramatically.

“Oh, I have looked back plenty of times to see if Filch or Snape were after us.” Theodora teased.

“Our point being...” George tickled Theodora.

“You haven’t been at the Burrow since that year.” Fred finished his sentence.

“Are you inviting me to visit?” She gasped.

“We are inviting you to spend the summer at our home.” The twins said in unison.

“We have to develop at least 5 products this summer and we can’t do it without you.” George grinned.

“And Bill will be there.” Fred sang, winking at Theodora.

This time, he got pushed off the armchair.

Bill was Theodora’s first crush. After their second year, the twins invited her to spend a weekend at the Burrow. Their eldest brother came to visit as he got a few days off from work. The second Theodora saw him she was intrigued.

Back then, she was determined to be a Curse Breaker when finishing school and she loved the fact that Bill answered her every question. He spent most of that weekend talking about his job with her and by the looks of it he didn’t mind at all.

Of course, with the 8-year gap between them, she knew he was only being friendly and she was too young back then to even think twice about it but that didn’t stop her from daydreaming about him. As long as it stays in her head, she is doing nobody any harm.

It wasn’t even a day and the twins were on to her. They saw her blush around him and asking Bill questions he already gave her an answer to. They were teasing her up until her fourth year when she went out with a Hufflepuff boy two years above her.

“So?” Theodora tried acting unphased about what they have just told her, desperately hoping they couldn’t see her blush.

She hasn’t seen Bill since that summer but she couldn’t deny that he still popped into her mind here and there, wondering what he is doing and how is he.

“Oh, William will be crushed when he finds out you forgot all about him!”

If Fred wasn’t her friend, she would hex him on the spot for teasing her. Perhaps she should’ve said yes to going out with John, then they would have left her alone.

“It was a silly crush!” She frowned at them. “Forget about it or I will obliviate it out of you!”

“Right...” George giggled.

“Just a silly crush.” Fred followed.

“How come he’s going to be home?” Theodora cleared her throat, trying to act as casual as possible.

“The Weasley Quidditch Tournament is this summer and he’s taking a longer vacation to attend it,” Fred answered.

“Charlie’s coming too!” George said excitedly.

“Charlie’s coming?!” Theodora jumped in her seat.

She hasn’t seen the dragon lover ever since he left school. If it wasn’t for the twins, Charlie would be her favorite Weasley. He was an amazing Quidditch captain — way more chill than Oliver — and even though he was a Prefect he never deducted points from them when they got into trouble.

“Yeah, yeah. We know, he’s your favorite.” George playfully rolled his eyes.

The twins knew Charlie reminded Theodora of her older brother Eric who was an Auror in America. He was just as passionate about his job and they had a similar personality. When the twins introduced her to Charlie, she couldn’t stay away from him because she missed her brother so much that being around Charlie made it bearable.

“If Charlie’s coming, then count me in!”

“Honestly, George, do you feel a bit offended right now?” Fred looked at his twin.

“She will visit because of Charlie and not us.” George scoffed.

Theodora couldn’t stop chuckling. Them being dramatic was her favorite trait of theirs.

“Bill will be heartbroken.”

She stopped the second Fred said that and punched him in the shoulder again. She was ready to defend herself again when her brows came together.

“What did you remember?” George knew that look all too well.

“I can’t come.” Theodora sunk in her chair.

“What?”

“Why?” Fred followed his brother.

“Do you remember the Howlers I got from my mother, about me doing chores all summer?”

“Oh, that!” George swung his hand and nodded to Fred.

Theodora turned her head to Fred who pulled a letter from his back pocket. He gave it to her and she opened it at once.

Dear Fred and George,

I can’t deny that you made some good points in your letter. I appreciate that you took the responsibility for Theodora getting in trouble, however, she won’t get out of this so easily. Whether it was her fault or not, she simply can’t get away with how she was behaving.

I understand that this tournament of yours is very important so I will allow her to stay with you under the condition that she helps your mother around the house whenever needed.

I took the liberty to write to Molly and she assured me that there is plenty of work that is waiting for all three of you once the school is finished.

Keep yourself and my daughter out of trouble, will you?

Miranda Cork

“What in the bloody hell did you write to my mother that she is allowing me to spend the summer with you?” Theodora was staring at the letter with her mouth open.

Molly might be known for shouting at her sons but she was not nearly as strict as her mother. There was nothing in the world that could convince Mrs. Cork to change her mind. Theodora would know, she tried on many occasions over the years.

“It’s the Weasley charm.” Fred winked at her.

She wanted to punch him again but she was too excited to join them at the Burrow to do so. She couldn’t believe it! She didn’t care that she would have to help around the house. She would have her two best friends there to keep her company.

And she will be able to play Quidditch with the other Weasleys and bond with Charlie again. It suddenly seemed that the end of the school year couldn’t come fast enough.

Right, when she deemed the summer to come the best one in years, she felt her heart skipping a beat as Fred’s words came to mind again.

And Bill will be there.

#harry potter fanfiction #the weasleys #weasley family #hp imagine #the burrow #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #bill weasley #harry potter #wizarding world #bill weasley fluff #bill weasley fanfiction #bill weasley x oc #bill weasley imagine #summer at the burrow #bill weasley romance

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professorsnape394 · 4 years ago

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The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Eleven: A Pining Professor

A/N: This is the eleventh part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 1913

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

"Very well done, Miss Granger." Aria commended as the young Hermione Granger brandished her perfectly completed potion to the class. "Now, who's next?" The professor questioned looking around the room for another student to choose. Her eyes quickly landed on an awkward looking fourth year Gryffindor boy. "How about you, Mr. Longbottom. Care to show us your final potion?"

The boy looked around nervously, attempting to straighten out his disheveled robes, hoping someone would save him from this inevitable embarrassment.

"Erm... I... I don't think I've done it right, Professor Dumbledore." Neville shot a quick, terrified glance in the direction of Severus Snape, who was, as usual hunched over his desk, paying little attention to the classroom full of students.

"Don't look so worried, Neville." Aria replied softly, beckoning the boy to test out his shrinking solution. "Professor Snape and I are not here to judge your abilities, but to guide you in the right direction, allowing you to flourish to your highest potential."

Professor Snape let out a low grunt, looking up from his desk for a brief second, unimpressed by the encouraging words of his apprentice.

Neville Longbottom took a step up to the front of the classroom, a small vial of his potion shaking slightly in his hand. Aria snatched a spare quill from the Potion Masters desk and laid it down in front of Neville waiting to see the results of his concoction. The acid green liquid dripped down onto the feathers, small droplets of the potion pooling together, quickly drowning the quill. The students stood around in silence, waiting for the quill to shrink down into practically nothing. However, instead of shrinking, the potion began to bubble and fizz. Within seconds the bubbles turned into a rabid foaming substance. After a few moments of watching the foam expand, it disappeared completely, the feathers of the quill melting away with it.

Almost as if the whole class had been holding their breath, a large number of students exhaled simultaneously. Neville's face dropped, disheartened by his efforts. "Not to worry, Longbottom, we'll walk you through it one more time, and show you what went wrong."

"I don't think so, Miss Dumbledore." Professor Snape piped up, appearing at the side of the young woman. "Mr. Longbottom, I want you to write an essay at least 1500 words detailing exactly what went wrong, and how you will re-mediate your efforts in the future. I want this on my desk by tomorrow morning." His sudden appearance dulled the mood Aria had worked to built within the class, instantaneously.

"Yes Sir." The boy retorted, cowering away back to the crowd of students.

Aria stared at the Professor, stunned at his interference. The pair had come to an agreement where Severus took on the theoretical aspect of the job, teaching the students his methods, while Aria took on the practical aspect, helping the students as they brewed. Severus often stayed quiet during her teaching time, taking nothing to do with the students after he taught them the correct brewing process. He trusted her to lead them in the right direction, after all. However, today Snape was persistent in making himself known, he felt the need to remind them all of his intimidating, dominant presence, determined to scare the students, into obedience.

"Class dismissed." Snape ordered, the children fleeing from the room before the words had even completely left his mouth.

Just as fast as the room had cleared, Severus made a move to gather the papers from his desk, appearing to be getting ready to leave the classroom, something he never usually done until it was time for the great feast.

"Where are you going?" Aria questioned, closing the gap between herself and the Potions Master, stopping him from wandering off without an explanation.

"To my office to mark the remainder of these essays... in peace." He stated, his tone full of venom. Again, Aria was taken aback by the way the man spoke to her. He had gradually been warming up to her these past few weeks and it had been a long time since he spoke to her with such anger. Considering how the previous evening had panned out, it bothered Aria that he had become so frosty again so quickly, they had made so much progress since their first meeting. And for what? For Severus to just immediately go back to his old ways. Aria wasn't about to let that happen anytime soon.

"What's your problem, Severus?" Aria snapped, getting in between the door and her mentor. "You've been acting like a dick all day. We finally had a nice evening together, both of us doing our own thing, it was nice! But then you ran out suddenly and without reason. And now you're acting even worse than you did before. Did I do something to piss you off? Please tell me!" She ranted, desperate for an answer.

"I'm not quite sure what you think went on last night, but whatever it is, I advise you get it out of your head immediately." He snapped, gradually nearing the exit.

"What are you talking about?" Aria questioned, sincerely confused. "Nothing did happen last night Severus and I'm not acting like it did. What's going on with you, is there something wrong?"

"Don't patronise me, Miss Dumbeldore, I don't need your pity." He seethed, clutching his stack of papers tightly to his chest. "I want to make it abundantly clear to you that we are to maintain a strictly professional relationship from here on out. We are not friends. And we never will be."

Seeing the enraged look grow on his face, Aria gave in, not willing to argue with her mentor any longer. Stepping away from the door, she allowed Severus to take his leave. The whole conversation had thoroughly confused her, she had thought last night had been nice for the both of them but clearly she was wrong and it just wasn't worth aggravating Severus even more.

From the moment Severus left Aria's room to the minute she walked through his classroom door the next morning Severus had not stopped thinking about the woman he tried so hard to despise. He had not slept, therefore he was even more unpleasant than usual. He was irritable with his coworkers, terrifying to his students, and just flat out mean to Aria. Although his body could not deny that he was attracted to her, a night of constant angry thoughts aimed at himself, quickly formed into a hatred for the woman in a desperate attempt to hide the embarrassment he was feeling not so deep down.

Determined to distance himself from his apprentice, he 'gave her the night off', if you could phrase it that way. Severus shut himself in his office, banning her from joining him while he marked as she so often did. Distracting himself from thoughts of her seemed to be working for him, and in no less than a few hours he was feeling back to his usual self. No thoughts of Aria entering his mind, whether it be thoughts of anger, lust or... Well, lets just say Aria was successfully no longer on his mind.

That was, of course, until a familiar rumble was heard from his stomach and he knew he could not avoid the great feast, though he so wanted to.

Seeing the young woman walk into the Great Hall amongst a crowd of students sent an instant pang into Severus' gut. It was then he knew that no matter how hard he tried to get this woman off his mind and no matter how 'temporarily' successful he was at doing so, there was no way he was ever going to escape how he felt. He could pick her out amongst a crowded room, and the beating of his heart became instantly deafening. This was not an attraction he saw himself being able to easily escape from.

Taking her regular seat at the table in between Severus and Minerva, the two woman got to chatting immediately. Aria kept herself turned away from the potions master, knowing he would not be in the mood to have any type of interaction with her. Snape found himself hurt that Aria kept her back to him, he hated the fact she wasn't trying harder to break him from the mood he had got himself into. Though if she had tried he would not be willing to be broken out of it quite yet.

As the whole hall began to fill with chatter and laughter Severus found himself the only miserable man in the place. He sat through the meal in silence, not talking to anyone, and no one speaking to him. It was on this rare occasion he found himself lonely in the situation he had created to protect himself from emotions exactly like this.

As the feast came to an end Professor Snape was ready to flee from the room, uninterested in anything else it had to offer him.

That was, until, a plump little owl found its way over to Aria Dumbledore and a gasp of glee escaped the two women beside him. His interest piqued, Severus settled back into his chair, focusing in on the conversation of his colleagues.

"Who's it from?" Minerva queried, her eyes having already scanned the contents of the letter.

"Oh it's just some guy I met at the Three Broomsticks. Pretty much saved me from being touched up by an old creep." The witch replied, a small chuckle escaping her lips.

"And he's asked you on a date?" Mcgonagall questioned further.

"No not at all." Aria scoffed. "Its just a few drinks see." She said passing over the parchment to the older woman.

"Sounds like a date to me." Professor McGonagall grinned.

"Its not a date!" Aria screeched in return, though Severus noted a hint of excitement in her voice.

The Potions Master felt his face burn with jealousy, a fiery hot ball growing inside him just waiting to burst out his chest. He hated the thought of seeing Aria out with another man, though he knew he could not be with her either. He was jealous for sure, but there was no way he would ever be willing to commit to her. Not that she could ever feel the same about him, if he did. He did not want her himself, but he also did not want anyone else to have her.

It was then the memory of another letter crossed his mind. Someone else already did have her. According to the letter he came across in her quarters she was in a relationship. And now, as much as she wanted to deny it, this new letter stated she would be going on a date with someone else.

Despite how sweet and innocent this young witch may seem, Severus Snape was beginning to build a picture of who she really was. It was clear to him now that from the moment she arrived at Hogwarts she had been playing him, just like he assumed she was playing these other men. 'She flirts and charms her way into getting everything she wants. Snape thought to himself. After all, she young and extremely attractive. What exactly is stopping her from taking advantage of everyone who falls for her. Well not me.' The thought continued. 'I'm wont be taken advantage of anymore.'

And with that Severus stormed from the room, his opinion of his apprentice having changed completely.

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel @lizlil

#severus snape #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape one shot #severus snape imagine #severus snape x reader #Severus Snape smut #severus snape fluff #severus x reader #severus x oc #severus x y/n #alan rickman #Harry Potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter fanfiction #dumbledore #dumbledores granddaughter #potions master #potions masters apprentice

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after-avenging-hours · 5 years ago

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Out of Time [4]: Steve x Reader

Series Masterlist with dates on chapter releases - tag list will not be used for this series

Summary: After Steve gets injected with a mysterious substance during a mission gone wrong, you come to find out that the only thing that can save his life is a pure sample of Dr. Erskine’s Super Soldier Serum. Unwilling to let the love of your life die without a fighting chance, you travel through the quantum realm back to 1943. Equipped with little more than your knowledge of past events, you have to figure out just how exactly you’re going to get your hands on that serum. Not only that, but with the infinity stones no longer protecting the reality you’ve come from, there is now a chance that your presence in the past can change the future you’ll return to. Can you succeed without messing things up? And if things go wrong, can you fix it before it’s too late? Or will you run out of time…

Word Count: 4609

Warnings: Steve having an asthma attack, brief mention of smutty concepts again, two idiots longing for each other

A/N: This chapter references the song Taking a Chance on Love by Benny Goodman, which was a popular song in 1943. I decided not to use the Endgame song 1) because that’s Steve and Peggy’s song and 2) it was technically made in 1945 and therefore would not have existed, yet. You can give Taking a Chance on Love a listen via the links below:

Spotify Link

Youtube link

The next morning you wake up once again to Steve attempting to untangle himself from your limbs. You giggle tiredly, releasing him and turn over to cuddle with your pillow before you promptly fall back asleep. A little later, you’re roused once more by the scent of cooking bacon and eggs.

You push yourself out of bed and lift your arms up in a stretch. Your wound was completely healed as of last night, only leaving behind a set of scars on the side of your abdomen and lower back. You reach for the silk robe you’d pulled out of your suitcase the night before and throw it on over your satin nightgown. You tie the robe closed as you leave Steve’s room and enter the kitchen.

The splattering sound of hot bacon grease fills your ears as you follow its delicious scent. “Good morning,” you announce to Steve, who’s standing by the stove, spatula in hand. He’s already dressed for the day and wears a simple blue apron to protect his clothes from the popping grease.

“Morning. I hope you’re hungry,” he smiles in greeting.

“It smells amazing,” you comment, taking in another deep breath. Stepping around him, you move to the refrigerator. “Do you want any orange juice?” you ask, pulling the carton out that you’d purchased yesterday.

“Sure, thanks,” Steve agrees.

You pull two glasses from the cupboard, pouring out the drinks, before setting the carton back in the fridge. You place both glasses down at the table. The oven timer goes off and Steve is quick to put on a mitt and pull some of the left-over biscuits out, where he was re-heating them. He dishes out the biscuits, bacon, and eggs onto two plates and joins you at the table.

You smile and give him your thanks as you wait for him to take a seat. You spread your napkin over your lap and lift your fork into your hand, ready to consume the freshly prepared meal.

“You have any plans for today?” Steve asks you right before he takes a bite of his bacon.

“I need to check in with work. Will probably need to be there for a few hours.”

“Where are you working?”

Your lips curl in amusement at his seemingly innocent question. “Now what kind of agent would I be if I answered that?”

His cheeks flush in embarrassment. “Oh, right.”

You giggle teasingly and shake your head. “I’m kidding, Steve. I work for the Strategic Scientific Reserve and am currently overseeing one of our recruitment stations.”

His brow furrows as he pauses eating. “I don’t think I’ve heard of that.”

“It’s a joint-government agency dedicated to finding a way to end this war. You’re not supposed to have heard of it.” You grin wryly.

“Oh, I see.” He turns back to his food, spearing some eggs onto his fork, and takes a bite. “What are you doing at a recruitment station?”

You shrug a shoulder. “Looking for soldiers with a specific skill set.”

“Ah,” he scoffs. “And I take it that I wouldn’t qualify?”

You sit back in your seat, eyes washing over him as you think how to best play your cards. “Don’t sell yourself short. It’s all about convincing the right person. Unfortunately, I’m not the person you need to convince.”

He nods like he understands and he drops the topic, but you can tell he continues to mull over your words.

After breakfast has been consumed and cleaned up, you move back to Steve’s room to get ready for your day. You change into a new dress, going with another civilian outfit, even though your uniform is now clean and ready. You then move into the bathroom, fixing up your hair, and putting on your makeup.

Steve observes the whirlwind of activity that goes into a woman’s morning routine. He’s never really seen it up close before. He was too young to have remembered or have the care to know how his mother did it. Movies never really portrayed this side of the process, just showing the end result instead. He can hear you humming a melody he doesn’t recognize from the bathroom. Several minutes pass before you re-emerge, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

“I better get going,” you murmur, walking toward him while looking at your watch. You come to a stop in front of him and lift your gaze to meet his. “Not sure how long I’ll be out for, but do you want to have dinner here again tonight?”

He nods his head quickly, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

The smile you give him makes his stomach flip. “Great. Then I’ll see you tonight.” You turn and head for the front door, pausing after pulling it open. “Oh, I grabbed my key, so if you’re going anywhere, you don’t need to worry about locking me out.”

“Okay.”

You send one more smile his way before wiggling your fingers in a small wave and taking your leave. The door shuts behind you with a soft click, but Steve continues to stand there staring at it for a moment. Every time you’re no longer in his presence he gets this strange feeling like he’s about to wake up from a dream.

You make your way back to the Expo, once again. You’ve got the Recruitment building in sight when you feel a presence behind you. Your muscles tense at the ready and as soon as you feel a hand land on your right shoulder, you react instantly. You reach up with your left hand, gripping the wrist of the hand on your shoulder tightly, you yank it forward. At the same time, you raise your right arm, bent at the elbow, and follow the length of the assailant’s arm up until your elbow meets their neck.

“Woah! Woah!” the man’s voice registers as soon as you’ve turned to meet his gaze.

“Mr. Stark!” You release him instantly. “Don’t you know it’s rude to sneak up on a woman?” you ask, placing a hand to your racing heart.

“Don’t think most of them have reactions quite like that,” he comments, rubbing at the base of his neck.

“Most of them don’t have the training that I have,” you shift from foot to foot, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.” He grins suggestively.

You want to roll your eyes. “What can I do for you, Mr. Stark?” you ask, trying to keep it professional.

He smirks knowingly, but steps back into line. “I just wanted to see how the recruitment has been going for you and the Doc.”

You release a long breath. “We’ve approved a small number of recruits for this next round of training, but we’re not completely confident that any of them are the one just yet.”

“I thought the whole point of sending them off to Camp Lehigh was to determine there whether or not they’re worthy.”

“How a person presents themselves as a civilian can provide just as much information as seeing them interact on a military base. We need to know all sides of their personality. It wouldn’t do us any good to give the serum to a man that will just go off and blindly kill anyone. If a man doesn’t respect innocent lives before being given any powers, then he sure as hell won’t respect them afterward. We need to know how they act as a person before we see them as a soldier.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” the two of you look to see Dr. Erskine stepping out of the recruitment center.

“Good morning, Doctor,” you greet him with a smile.

“Are you harassing my assistant, again, Mr. Stark?” Erskine questions with an amused smile as he meets with the two of you.

Howard grins, unashamed. “Well, I certainly know better now. She nearly took my arm off.”

“You would have deserved it,” you defend yourself.

“I don’t doubt that,” Erskine chuckles.

Howard raises his hands up as if to proclaim his innocence. “I just wanted to see how everything was going for you and wanted to offer my services if I can be of any use.”

“Just make sure your show is ready for this weekend,” you tell him. “We’re hoping that the crowd it draws will bring some new faces to the recruitment center.”

“Oh, it’s ready, alright,” he responds confidently. “My show is going to blow the rest of this whole fair out of the water.”

You can’t help the smirk when you recall exactly what happens to his invention during the show from Steve’s stories. “I’m sure it will.”

“If that is all, Mr. Stark, we really must be getting back to work,” Erskine steps in.

“Of course,” Howard concedes, letting you both walk past to enter into the recruitment center.

“He’s certainly persistent,” you comment once you’re inside.

“I think that may be because you keep rejecting him. Howard Stark is not used to women that don’t fall at his feet.”

You shake your head and sigh. “I’ve already got more than enough going on with the man I left at home. I really don’t need to start a collection.”

Erskine laughs quietly. “I am still very much interested in meeting this man of yours.”

You send him a conspiratorial smile before walking off to begin your rounds and check in with the MPs that are on staff today. You make sure they’re all on the same page for watching the building’s perimeter and keeping the peace indoors before you send them on their way. The recruitment center is a little busier, considering it’s only Wednesday, but you figure it will only pick up even more, the closer you get to the weekend. Erskine has already told you that you should be prepared to work long hours over the weekend.

You help him interview a few of the morning recruitments before you grab a clipboard and tell him you’re going to scout around the crowds at the fair and see about sending more men over. You do what you can to keep up appearances and pretend like you’re enjoying what you’re doing. But in reality, both your head and heart are still at the apartment.

You can’t help but wonder what Steve is getting up to. Even though he’s not the same Steve as the one you fell in love with, you still find yourself enjoying being around him just as much. To be with him in this time, before he becomes burdened by the trauma of war and the responsibilities of becoming Captain America. Knowing the rough road that he faces, you just want to be able to give him a little bit of light to help brighten his path. Give him hope at a time where he may be beginning to lose it.

Once you’ve finished up with the Recruitment Center for the day, you eagerly head back home. You’re halfway up the metal stairs when the scent of something burning makes you pause. In the next second, you’re dashing up the rest of the steps and burst into the apartment. The burning scent only gets stronger and makes you cringe.

“Steve?” you call out

There’s a slight haze of smoke within the apartment and you can hear coughing. You rush into the kitchen, relieved to see the absence of open flames, but the smoke is definitely heavier in here. Something in a bread pan sits black on the stovetop. The oven door has been left wide open and you find Steve struggling to open the window above the kitchen sink. You quickly take over, popping the latch and yanking it open.

Steve continues coughing next to you and can’t seem to catch his breath. You grab his hand and hurry to get him down the hall and into his room, shutting the door behind you both. “What… are you doing?” he asks between wheezing breaths.

You guide him to sit on the edge of his bed. Then walk around to pull open the bedroom window, too. “The smoke is triggering an asthma attack,” you tell him moving back to kneel in front of him. “Sit up straight,” you encourage, trying to get him to stop hunching over. You reach to undo his tie and pop open the first few buttons of his shirt. “Steve, honey, you’ve gotta slow your breathing,” you tell him, worry dripping from your voice. He inhales and releases a series of coughs without truly exhaling.

You reach up, cupping his face in your hands. “Place your hands on your stomach and try to follow me.” You exaggerate your breaths, trying to make your exhale long and slow. You can tell that he’s trying, but his body just isn’t cooperating. With every cough comes a rapid inhale, and he just can’t make it stop. “Okay, okay,” you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his cheeks. “I have an emergency inhaler in my med kit, but I need to go get it.” You move to stand. “I’ll be right back,” you assure him.

You step out of the bedroom, making sure to close the door immediately. You first step back into the living room to open the front window, hoping for a cross breeze to form with the kitchen window that will help air out the place. You then rush into the bathroom to grab your first aid kit and take it back to Steve’s room.

You kneel at his feet once more, opening the kit and search for the inhaler. You’d been carrying one ever since the battle of New York. The debris from the battle had cluttered the air in the city with ash and dust and you’d come across several civilians in need of assistance that couldn’t escape the battle area because of triggered asthma attacks. Since destruction had a way of following the Avengers around, your spare inhaler had come in handy on more than a few occasions.

“Oh, yes!” you mutter in success, pulling out the inhaler and handing it to Steve.

“What… is this?” he questions, confusion.

“Bite down on this end and close your lips around it, then press once on the top canister and breathe the air in through your mouth.” He does as you instruct, inhaling the medicine. “See if just that one helps,” you tell him, placing your hands reassuringly on his knees.

He continues to cough, not used to the feeling of the inhaler, but the coughs don’t sound quite as bad as before. His breath still continues to hitch, so you have him use the inhaler once more. After that, he’s finally able to release a full exhale. “There we go,” you encourage gently. “Nice and slow.”

He continues to huff, but no longer coughs. After another minute or so his breaths start to even out. “I think I’m okay,” he tells you. His chest still aches, but he no longer feels like every breath is going to be his last.

You release the stress in your shoulders with a long breath. “You scared me half to death.” Your hands rub absentmindedly over the tops of his thighs.

“Sorry,” he mutters, embarrassed, and not meeting your eyes. “I was trying to make meatloaf for our dinner, but while it was in the oven, I started sketching and I lost track of time.”

You send him one of your gentle smiles. “You don’t need to be sorry, Steve. I’m just glad you’re okay.” You give his knees a light squeeze before standing once more. “I’ll go deal with the meatloaf and get the remaining smoke out of the kitchen. Stay here and I’ll bring something to you. Are you okay if I just re-heat the soup from yesterday?”

He nods.

“Sit tight.” You press your lips to his forehead before turning to exit the room.

You can still smell the burning scent of the meatloaf, but the smoke haze has lessened inside the apartment. You close the open oven door and carefully test how hot the loaf tin is, finding it warm to the touch, but not burning hot. You grab a butter knife and attempt to extract the ashen meatloaf to dump into the trash can, and hopefully salvage the tin. It takes a bit of work because the meatloaf is basically a solid black brick, but eventually, you work it loose. You dump the tin into the sink and fill it with water to soak. You then transfer a portion of soup into a pot and start heating it up on the stove.

While that’s heating, you grab a cookie sheet and start waving it up and down to fan the last of the burning scent out the window. When you no longer smell burnt meatloaf, you put the cookie sheet away and stir the soup to make sure you won’t have a second burning fiasco on your hands. You close up the window, so the apartment won’t get too cold and move into the living room to close the window there, too.

After the soup is heated, you pour out two bowls and take them down the hallway to Steve’s room. You step in to find him exactly where you left him, on the edge of the bed. He’s leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees and his head hanging low. “You still feeling okay?” you question softly.

He inhales sharply and lifts his head. “Yeah,” he responds simply, but you can see the self-deprecation in his eyes.

“Well then, come on,” you encourage with a swift jerk of your head back toward the hall. You want to get him out of the dark bedroom in the hopes that coming out into the light might lift his spirits some.

He pushes himself up with a sigh and follows you out of the room, only to pause in confusion when you turn into the living room instead of continuing straight to the kitchen. “What are you doing?” he asks, confusion turning into curiosity.

“Having dinner on the couch,” you state like it’s obvious. You place one bowl on the end table next to an old lamp. “Take a seat,” you gesture Steve over. You hand the second bowl to him once he reaches you and then you make your way around him to the small bookshelf against the opposite wall.

He has an old radio sitting on top of the bookshelf. You twist the first knob to turn it on and adjust the volume. You carefully spin the second knob until you find a music station with minimal static. Once you’re satisfied, you turn to join Steve on the couch. You kick off your heels and sit with your legs folded under you as you grab your soup.

You lift the bowl closer to your face, so as not to spill anything when you lift your spoon up and blow gently at the hot soup. You pause before eating when you notice that Steve is just sitting there, staring at you. “What?” you question.

He continues to stare, looking a little flabbergasted as he shakes his head slowly. “You’ve got to be the strangest woman I’ve ever met,” he states frankly.

You feel the twitch in your cheek right before a full-on grin develops on your face. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” you laugh.

Steve’s cheeks flush a deep red. “Sorry, that came out rude.”

“No offense taken.” You shoot him a wink.

“But you’re not mad that I ruined our dinner?” he questions.

Your head tilts in confusion, “Why would I be mad?”

He drops his gaze. “Because I got distracted and let it burn. And then my asthma started up…”

“Steve, you can’t control your asthma,” you tell him.

“I know, I just… people tend to get mad at the things that inconvenience them.”

Your eyes widen, unsure if you really just heard him say that. “Steven Grant Rogers! You get that thought out of your head right now!” you chastise. “You are not an inconvenience. You are a person. A human being. A man who is kind and caring and sensitive... and you’re also stronger than you realize. You’re determined, and passionate, and yes, sometimes, you can be a bit of a stubborn jerk, but you are never an inconvenience. And if anyone ever tries to make you feel otherwise, well then you can send them my way and I will happily set them straight.”

He stares at you, open-mouthed, unsure what to say to that.

“Now stop staring at me and eat your soup,” you huff, turning back to your own bowl. “Your body needs to build back its strength.”

He’s quiet for a short moment, absorbing your words. “You’re sure I haven’t been an inconvenience?”

“Steve!” you’re about to go on another tirade but cut yourself off when you see the knowing smirk on his face.

“This is me being a stubborn jerk.”

You scoff out a laugh, shaking your head. “You’re a real pain in the ass, Rogers.”

He chuckles along with you. “I’m sure Bucky would agree with you.”

“Eat!” you insist between your laughter.

“I am!” he responds through a mouthful of potato soup.

The two of you eat in a joyful, relaxed silence, letting the music from the radio fill the space. Once you’re finished, you just set your bowl on the side table and sit back against the couch continuing to listen to the gentle, jazzy melodies. You and your Steve could spend hours sitting and listening to music together. It was one of your favorite ways to wind down after long missions. Sometimes you’d sit on the couch and read while Steve sat next to you, sketching. Other times, the two of you would just lay in bed, wrapped around each other for some solid cuddle time.

Steve only ever had one rule whenever the two of you listened to music together.

The current song on the radio ends and you immediately perk up when a familiar melody starts. It’s Taking a Chance on Love by Benny Goodman and Helen Forrest. The song begins with a series of trumpet bleats harmonizing with a clarinet. The uplifting beat has you rising onto your feet. “Come on!” you grin excitedly down at Steve and hold your hand out to him.

“What is it?” he asks in confusion, but still sets down his empty bowl and takes your hand.

You help him up and off the couch before pulling him into the middle of the living room. “The only rule is that we have to dance to this song.”

“Wha-” Steve’s steps falter behind you. “Vic, I-I don’t dance.”

You give him a sweet laugh, turning to face him. You hold each of his hands in yours and start to sway your hips to the rhythm of the song. “I’m not looking to win any awards, Rogers. Just have fun with me!”

As the melody evens out, you transition to swaying from side to side. Stepping closer to him, you set his right hand against your hip and rest your own on his shoulder. As you continue to sway, he’s forced to join you because of your proximity. You smile encouragingly until he begins to relax.

Here I go again, I hear those trumpets blow again.

All aglow again, taking a chance on love.

He slowly eases into it. Whether it’s because he’s just giving into you or because he’s actually enjoying himself, you’re not quite sure.

Here I slide again, about to take that ride again.

Starry-eyed again, taking a chance on love.

You find yourself singing along to the lyrics. You’ve heard the song hundreds of times throughout your relationship with Steve. You know just about every note by heart. Every time it plays, it never fails to make you fall in love with him just a little more. You’re pretty sure you first realized that you were in love with him while the two of you danced to this song.

I thought that cards were a frame-up, I never would try.

Now I'm taking that game up and the ace of hearts is high.

The first time you ever heard it, the two of you had been newly dating, lounging in the common area of the compound. You were just enjoying each other’s company while Steve had a playlist going on the surround sound speakers. When this song popped up, Steve had given you the biggest puppy eyes you’d ever seen on him and he asked if you wanted to dance. You’d giggled like a giddy school girl and agreed. He’d pulled your body tight against his, swaying gently and softly sang the lyrics directly into your ear.

Things are mending now, I see a rainbow blending now.

We'll have a happy ending now, taking a chance on love.

From that point on, no matter what the two of you were doing, if this song came on, you both would drop everything and share a dance. You’ve left half-finished mission reports, vegetables only partially chopped, water boiling on the stove… all so the two of you could dance like two idiots in love. There was even one time when a music listening-cuddle session had transitioned from heavily making out into foreplay, but when this song came on from Steve’s docking station, he’d given you a wicked grin and pulled you out of bed, not even caring that you were both naked as the day you were born. You’d protested something fierce, having been so close to release via his ridiculously thick tongue, but he’d stubbornly refused your pleas and ignored the ache in his loins where it rubbed against your hip. Instead, he made you dance through the whole song before letting you both continue where you’d left off.

You’re pulled out of your memories when the Steve you’re currently with grows a little bolder with his dance moves and guides you into a spin. You laugh freely, following his lead. You push out until your arms are fully extended and then let him twirl you back in, coming to a stop with your back to his chest. The two of you sway like that for a moment before you twirl out again and he pulls you back, now facing each other. Your hand settles on his shoulder once again, while his lands at the center of your back, bringing you in closer than before.

He’s grinning so wide, you can’t help but match his expression. The stress and shame that had been weighing on him earlier have vanished without a trace. He looks free and happy. Content to hold you in his arms and dance the night away in his tiny apartment. As the song comes to an end, the two of you slow your swaying. Even after just the one song, his breathing is a little heavier than it should be. Likely because of his recent asthma attack.

“There, was that so bad?” you ask gently.

He looks back at you, his features softening serenely. “Could have been worse. At least I didn’t step on you.”

You release a small giggle, leaning in to place a chaste kiss to his cheek. You then pull out of his hold and turn to take your empty bowls into the kitchen. You know if you were to stay in his arms for a moment longer you were going to lose all control and would probably end up throwing yourself at him.

Steve watches you leave the room, a sense of longing building deep in his gut. He’s never felt this way about anyone before. And he’s not entirely sure what to do about it.

Part 5

#steve rogers x reader #pre serum steve x reader #40s steve x reader #captain america x reader

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lillywillow · 4 years ago

Text

Sinners ‘n Saints

Summary: When private detective Steve Rogers is hired to investigate the wife of a client who claims she is having an affair, he discovers some things are not quite adding up.

Word Count: 2208

Square Filled: 1940’s AU

Pairings: Helmut Zemo x Female Reader/ Steve x Female Reader (later)

Warnings: Infidelity, smoking, drinking, mild language, 40’s slang

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

New York City. The Big Apple. The city where dreams were made. For all her glitz and glamour, Lady New York held some dark secrets. Steve Rogers knew this well from his years of working as a private investigator, covering everything from missing persons to ransom cases.

One quite afternoon, Steve was pounding away at the keys of his typewriter, taking some time to document some of his toughest cases when a man entered his office. The gentleman’s hair was nicely combed; he was well dressed in a finely tailored suit, expensive Italian shoes and obnoxiously overpowering cologne. He walked over to Steve’s desk and sat in the vacant chair. He lit a cigarette and took a drag before addressing the detective.

“You are Detective Steve Rogers of ‘Rogers Private Eye Agency’, yes?” He spoke with an accent that Steve couldn’t quite place.

“I am. How can I help you?” he asked, pouring the man a glass of bourbon from the decanter on his desk. He thanked him and took a sip before introducing himself.

“My name is Helmut Zemo. I suspect my wife is having an affair...”

“I see... and what brought on this suspicion?” Steve always hated this part of the job. When spouses came to him with accusations of being unfaithful.

“It is just a hunch... for now. I would like you to find evidence soon.” Helmut placed an envelope full of cash on Steve’s desk. “Here is half of what I am willing to pay. You will receive the other half when you complete the job.”

Steve took the envelope and was shocked to see how much was in there. Helmut finished the drink, cringing as the amber liquid burned his throat and stood up.

“You may start this Friday. My wife will be singing at my club The Baron.” With that, he left.

The name suddenly clicked in Steve’s head. Helmut Zemo was a wealthy socialite who owned many nightclubs and made it into the gossip rags. There was something that didn’t sit right with Steve about the man; however, he would take jobs where he could.

That Friday, Steve went to The Baron for his night of surveillance. He took a table somewhere in the middle; close enough to see the action for himself but far enough back not to be noticeable. Steve looked around the joint, taking notice of his surroundings.

The place was classy. The furniture was polished with the highest sheen and drinks were served in the finest crystal. The large stage in front was obscured by a velvet red curtain which would no doubt be drawn when the entertainment would begin. As he scanned, he noticed a lot of high powered men who were rumoured to be part of a crime syndicate. Steve’s attention was broken when the announcer spoke.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage our very own nightingale Ms Y/N!”

As the curtain went up, the band began to play. Lying on top of the piano was the most stunning women Steve had ever seen. Her hair was done up in curls, pinned back with a diamond hairclip. Her lips were painted sinfully red and the second she opened her mouth, her honeyed, velvet voice poured out. Her black dress sparkled under the spotlight. As she sat up and crossed her legs, the split in her dress moved up, showing off her supple thigh. Men called and whistled at the sight.

Y/N gracefully jumped off the piano, her dress smoothing down her sides, the bottom pooling at her feet. He could now see the way how nicely it framed her curves; curves that would put Mae West to shame. Y/N made her way into the audience, her hips swaying seductively as she walked. She would place her gloved hand on the shoulder of one of the patrons, fingers running over the length of it before moving onto the next person. As she moved a little closer, Steve could see more of her diamond and pearl jewellery and smell her expensive perfume. A dame like this would certainly have no trouble attracting any man she wanted. When the song ended, she made her way back to the stage and finished up. The crowd burst into raucous applause and gave a standing ovation.

After the show, Y/N made her way over to the bar. Steve followed, placing himself far enough away not to be noticed. She ordered a drink and while waiting, a gentleman approached her.

“Hey, doll. Can I buy you a drink?” he smirked.

“No, sir,” she cooed, giving him a playful tap on the nose before taking her ready drink and heading backstage. The man was about to try further to coax her when his friend grabbed him.

“Are you crazy?! That’s Zemo’s missus. You want to be found on the bottom of the Hudson with cement shoes?!” The man’s eyes widened and headed off.

Steve pretended he didn’t hear the conversation and ordered a whisky neat.

“What’s the deal with the singer?” he casually asked the bartender.

“Oh, I wouldn’t waste your time with her. She’s only got eyes for her husband. A husband I might add with a mean jealous streak in him,” he said, pouring the drink and giving it to Steve.

This information made him think. If this information was true, why would Zemo contact him to find evidence of infidelity? Was Y/N the type of woman who liked to play dangerous games? From what he saw on stage, he wouldn’t put it past her. However if this were the case, why would she turn down the gentleman’s offer? Perhaps some things would be clearer in the light of day.

...

Throughout the week, Steve followed Y/N wherever she went at a distance. She filled her days with perfectly mundane tasks such as shopping, cleaning the house or the occasional trip to the salon. Every interaction she had with men was normal and innocent enough, all conversations at appropriate length. There were no signs of the captivating temptress Steve had observed at the club that night.

Her evenings were just as ordinary. The most exciting thing to happen was when she hosted a card game with her lady friends. Y/N spent most of her nights alone and when her husband did finally come home, she was greeted by a cold kiss on the cheek. Steve found this rather odd.

One night, Y/N was sitting at the table with dinner freshly made, patiently waiting for Helmut to come home. The phone rang and she happily ran to answer it. Her expression went from smiling to looking sad as she spoke to the person on the other end. When she hung up the phone, she returned to the table and held her face in her hands crying. Steve assumed that was her husband telling her he would not be home for dinner.

...

The following Friday, Steve went to the club once more and watched Y/N’s performance with fresh eyes. Yes, she was just as enticing but she was also professional. Steve suspected that this was the act of a strong woman who was trying to keep her marriage from falling apart while doing her job as the sultry nightclub singer. After the show, he noticed someone heading backstage with a large bouquet of flowers, presumably for Y/N. He quickly intercepted them and went to deliver them himself. Steve knocked on the door and waited for permission to enter before going in. Y/N was dressed in a silky robe and taking her hair out of its style. There was a red haired woman helping her that Steve saw around the club.

“Delivery for ma’am,” he said, holding out the flowers to her.

“Oh, thank you,” she smiled, taking them from him. “They’re beautiful.”

“Probably more guilt flowers,” Nat said bitterly.

“Nat, please...”

“Oh, wake up and smell the coffee, Y/N! Helmut is cheating on you!”

“Enough! He gives me flowers because he loves me! I’m one of the luckiest gals in the whole city! My husband showers me with jewellery and imported perfumes and-and expensive clothing because he loves me! Helmut loves me Natasha...” her voice became reverent and Steve wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince her friend or herself. How could he be so wrong about her? This was not a woman having an affair. This was a woman who was trying so desperately to believe that her husband was still faithful to her.

“Are you still here? Get out!” Nat barked at Steve, going to hug Y/N. He took this as his cue to leave. Maybe he should take a closer look at his employer.

...

Sure enough, as soon as Steve began to follow Helmut around, the evidence was as plain as the nose on your face. He saw the man with multiple women who were not his wife. He took pictures of them kissing and/or locked in a passionate embrace. Steve felt bad for Y/N and decided to go to her with the photographs.

...

Steve arrived on the Zemo’s doorstep, taking care to come over at a time he knew Helmut would not be home. Y/N was understandably surprised to see him but invited him in nonetheless.

“Mrs Zemo, my name is Steve Rogers and I’m a private detective. I... I’m afraid I have some bad news about your husband,” he said, handing her the envelope with the pictures. As Y/N looked through them so many emotions flashed across her face.

“Did Nat put you up to this?”

“No... Your husband did.”

“Wh-what?”

“He hired me to investigate the infidelity on your end but...”

“That bastard! First he disrespects the confines of our marriage bed and then he hurts me further by treating me like a common whore?!” Y/N threw a nearby vase against a wall in anger. Tears started flowing down her face

“Why would he do such a thing?”

“The fidelity clause... I come from a rich family and owning so many businesses, Helmut was rich too. Our lawyers though it was a good idea to protect our respective assets. If one of us was proven to be unfaithful, they would be able to take the other for everything.” Y/N dropped to her knees.

“I knew for a long for a long time I just... I thought if I told myself it wasn’t true, wished it hard enough that it wouldn’t come to light...” Steve carefully hugged her. She allowed him to, leaning into his warm touch. “He never used to be like this. I know he loved me once but I don’t know what happened.” Steve gave it some thought.

“I... I know someone in the paper. If you will allow me, I could give the story to him. He’d approach it tastefully...” Y/N was quiet for a few moments.

“Do it. I want him to feel as humiliated as I do. I want his name dragged through the mud as he has done with our wedding vows...” Y/N softly removed herself from Steve’s embrace and stood up, wiping her eyes and sniffling.

“I apologise for making a scene...”

“It’s alright. I’m sorry for dropping this information on you. My job is to fund the truth not fabricate stories.” Y/N offered him a small smile.

“Thank you. Steve was it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’ve got a kind heart. I appreciate what you’ve done for me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a few arrangements to take care of.” Steve nodded and headed off, hoping that he would see her again one day.

...

It was the biggest scandals of the year. In the months that followed, it was discovered that not only Helmut was cheating on Y/N but he was also involved in illegal activities; often involving crime syndicates. That was how he earned his fortune. As far as Steve knew, Y/N got everything in the divorce.

One afternoon, Steve had a surprise visitor.

“Detective Rogers?” Steve looked up to see Y/N knocking on his door, already having entered the room.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” As she crossed the room, he could see how much more confident she looked, like the woman she portrayed herself to be on stage.

“Helmut owed you a debt and I intend to pay it,” she said, placing the envelope full of money on his desk.

“I... I can’t accept this...”

“Please. He hired you to find proof of unfaithfulness and as far as I’m concerned, you found it. You have done your job, sir.” Steve looked at the pay-packet on his desk.

“I know this is a little forward but... may I take you out to dinner?”

“I would like that very much. Pick me up at seven,” Y/N warmly smiled.

Steve couldn’t wait until then. After all that she had been through, a lady like Y/N deserved to be out with a true gentleman.

#ssb2021 #40's AU #Steve Rogers #Female reader #steve x reader #baron zemo #Zemo x reader #Marvel #Marvel fic #Cheating #Singer #Nightclub #Natasha Romanoff #Sinners 'n Saints #Detective!Steve Rogers

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caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma · 4 years ago

Text

Rejuvenation

For @jamaisjoons ‘The Summer Bucketlist: BTS Edition Collab’

Pairing(s): Yoongi x Reader x Hoseok (featuring Jungkook & Jimin w/ mentions of the others)

Genre: non-idol AU; Spa Owners/Workers, fluff, smut, dash of angst

Prompt: Treat Yourself to a Spa Day

Word Count: 12.5k+

Summary: You finally get a break from work and you decide to indulge in a little pampering and self-care. During lunch, your friend slips a card into your hand for an exclusive spa with a special referral discount. How can you resist? Let’s hope the Bangtan Blossoms Spa provides the relaxation & rejuvenation experience you desperately seek.

Warnings: cursing & vulgar language, sexual innuendos, penetrative sex, fingering, oral (female/male receiving), protected sex, body worship, praise kink, butt plug, nipple play, nipple clamps, hair pulling, choking, sex toy play, exhibitionism, triple penetration, anal play, pussy slapping, spanking

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

The quaint stone building in front of you was the quintessential facade for a spa. The cobblestone walkway, the rocky texture on the outside walls, and the elaborate fountain surrounded by perfectly manicured foliage all perpetuated the illusion of escape from reality.

You looked at the matte black card in your hand and noted the embossed logo on the front. The mirrored geometric shapes were reminiscent of doors opening. You turned the card over and read the golden script scrawled across it.

Bangtan Blossoms Spa Member Referral Code: STAYGOLD 613 Journey Road Appointment: 9:00 AM

Your friend Danae could not stop talking about this place and when she’d handed over this referral card, you had half a mind to refuse it, but the appeal of a free relaxing spa day was too great to pass up. So you took the card and tucked it away, promising to call and make your appointment as soon as your lunch date was over.

Once you entered the lobby, the comforting scent of lavender enveloped your senses. The diffusers near the entrance were emitting wisps of scented fog, and your mind was immediately eased.

“Welcome to Bangtan Blossoms Spa,” announced the tall drink of water behind the reception desk. “I’m Jungkook, how can I help you today?”

You took a second to drink up the sleek raven hair tinged with blue, the tight black shirt clinging to a perfectly sculpted chest, and the unbuttoned modern hanbok hanging from his shoulders. His delicate pink lips were pulled into an eager smile and you couldn’t help returning it in kind.

He’s way too sweet and too young to be a spa worker. Maybe’s he’s an intern?

“Hi,” you smiled while handing over your appointment card. “I have a 9:00 am appointment.”

“Ok, let me get you signed in,” Jungkook exclaimed while typing in your information. “Oh, wow, you got one of the 2 for 1 specials? That’s awesome!”

“Really?” you asked Jungkook while peering over at the screen. “Where does it say that?”

“It says right here that you got the [Stay Gold Sope Summer Package],” Jungkook confirmed with a jubilant smile. “That means that Yoongi-hyung and Hobi-hyung will be your specialists. You’re in for a real treat today.”

“Jungkook!” called out a sharp silvery voice. “You are supposed to use their professional names when we’re at work.”

Jungkook visibly wilted and you noticed his bottom lip disappearing between his teeth. From behind a set of thick curtains emerged a perfectly coiffed head of platinum blonde, and you were momentarily stunned by his sumptuous rosy lips collected into an adorable pout. His sharp eyes flickered across Jungkook’s sheepish figure and he shook his head in disappointment.

“Seriously,” the blonde vision sighed airily. “This is why I don’t like leaving you alone at reception. You’re always breaking the rules.”

“I’m sorry, Jimin-ssi,” Jungkook groaned before panicking and correcting himself. “I mean, I’m sorry, Jimin.”

Jimin stepped past the curtain and smoothed out the smoky silk shirt draped across his delicate physique. Jungkook reluctantly relinquished his position in front of the computer and he pouted as Jimin shook his head at him in disapproval.

“It’s ok, Jungkook,” Jimin insisted in his mellifluous tone. “Just try to remember how we’re supposed to behave while we’re here. We want our clients to think of us as professionals, ok?”

“I know,” Jungkook replied. “I just forget sometimes, that’s all. Anyway, she’s here for her treatment. She has the [Stay Gold Sope Summer Package].”

“Ah, yes,” Jimin grinned while turning to address you directly. “Your specialists today will be Suga and J-Hope, or as we like to call the pair, Sope. My name is Jimin and you’ve already met Jungkook. Here at Bangtan Blossoms Spa, we make sure that our clients are given the very best that we have to offer. I hope you will enjoy your experience with us today.”

“Thank you,” you smiled at Jimin. “Jungkook was very welcoming and he was very helpful. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jungkook smirked. “I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

Your face flushed with heat at his words and Jimin giggled at Jungkook’s slip of the tongue.

“Jungkook, why don’t you let Suga and J-Hope know that their client is here,” Jimin suggested. “I will show her to her room so she can get ready for them.”

Jungkook nodded and smiled sweetly at you. He reached over to lift your hand to his lips, and you gawked at the assortment of tattoos peeking out beneath his hanbok sleeve. Jungkook released your hand and bowed slightly to you before lifting his brilliant cocoa colored eyes to meet your gaze.

“Have fun today,” Jungkook murmured cutely. “Maybe next time, you can choose me as your specialist? Satisfaction guaranteed.”

His lips pulled into a seductive smirk and he winked playfully before dashing behind the curtains out of sight. You felt a rush of heat creep across your body and Jimin giggled at Jungkook’s little flirtatious display before turning his attention back to you.

Ok, there was no preparing for that. That boy has trouble written all over him. Literally.

“Cheeky, isn’t he?” Jimin mused. “He’s our youngest specialist, but don’t let that fool you. He’s highly qualified and has outstanding client reviews, just like the rest of us here at Bangtan Blossoms Spa.”

“Good to know,” you smirked. “So, now what?”

‘Now, my lovely client,” Jimin continued while he stepped behind the reception desk and lifted a large canvas tote with the spa’s logo printed on it. “We take you to get ready for your spa treatment. This summer special entitles you to our finest combination of treatments and it will take some time. I promise that you will leave here feeling like a new woman.”

Jimin handed over the tote, and you gasped at the fluffy white robe embroidered in purple with the spa’s logo. There were also various items tucked beneath the robe, but there was no time to look at them. Jimin offered his arm to you and gently escorted you behind the curtain and into a long hallway with numerous doors. He stopped in front of the room number “7” and handed over an elaborate golden key.

“This is your private room for today,” Jimin announced. “You will have the only key to the room, so feel free to leave your personal possessions within. You may also enjoy the complimentary refreshments, and please don’t hesitate to use the intercom to call me at the front desk. I will be more than happy to assist you with whatever you need.”

“Thank you, Jimin,” you smiled. “I’ll remember that.”

“Please do,” Jimin quirked lasciviously. “I would love to be of service to you.”

He lifted your free hand and planted a lingering kiss on the inside of your wrist. After giving you a smile full of insinuation, Jimin turned and walked down the hall toward the curtained entrance. He paused and ran his fingers through his blonde locks before shooting one last smoldering look at you then disappearing into the reception area. You released the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

Is everyone here just insanely attractive and fueled by desire? My brain is getting flooded by naughty thoughts.

Still flustered, you fumbled with the golden key in your hand, but once you were inside, you couldn’t help but gawk at the plush interior. There was an overstuffed purple lounger, a small walk-in closet, a full bathroom, a vanity table complete with LED bulbs along the edge, and a fully stocked wet bar. The side shelf displayed a variety of snacks and drinks, as well as various bath products infused with various essential oils. You noted the plethora of labels with bright green leaf stickers announcing the presence of either THC or CBD hemp oils.

Well isn’t that interesting? This place just keeps getting better and better.

You were no stranger to the wonders of cannabis and hemp; in fact, you and your girlfriends kept CBD and THC products in stock for medical and recreational purposes. You lifted a glittering bath bomb labeled Mikrokosmos and ran your thumb across the CBD sticker reverently.

“I bet you feel amazing,” you whispered to the tightly packed purple granules. “A nice hot bubble bath with you to soothe my aching muscles? Yes, please.”

A soft knock resounded behind you and you dropped your things on the lounger before walking back to open the door. The two men who greeted you were unbelievably attractive, and you were awestruck by the bright shining smile on one face and the mysteriously stoic face of the other.

“Hello,” chirped the ball of sunshine. “My name is J-Hope and this is my partner, Suga. We’re here to give you the ultimate Sope spa treatment.”

‘That was not the introduction we agreed on,” grumbled his partner. “Why did you make me practice that intro if you were just going to commandeer the entire thing?”

“Whoops,” giggled Mr. Sunshine. “Sorry about that. We can do it again, if you want.”

Mr. Grumblecakes pouted and shook his head slightly. You almost cooed at his knitted brow and puckered lips, but then he spoke again.

“What’s the point? The moment’s lost now,” Suga responded in pout. “Besides, we have more important matters to attend to, don’t we?”

His feline eyes lifted to meet your own and his pouty lips pulled up into a flirtatious smirk. You were taken aback at the duality between his previous cuteness and the unmistakable swagger that now greeted you.

“So, are you going to invite us in, beautiful?” he quipped. “Or should we wait for you in the hallway?”

“Oh, sorry,” you apologized quickly, while ushering them into your room. “Jimin didn’t tell me when to expect you.”

“Ah, Jimin,” J-Hope chuckled while nudging Suga’s arm. “We’re going to have to give him hell later. RM already talked to him about staying focused while on the job.”

“I know,” Suga grinned. “We should’ve just left Jin or V in charge of reception. They’re consistently attentive to the clients.”

“Yeah, but they’re both in high demand right now,” J-Hope guffawed. “Tall, dark, and handsome are hard to resist in this business, aren’t they, sweetheart?”

You glanced at him before sweeping your sharp eyes across their lean frames. Whatever they thought they were lacking in physical appearance was diminished by their larger than life personalities. J-Hope’s infectious aura perfectly balanced the sultry stylings of Suga, and together, you could tell that you would have your hands full.

In more ways than one...oh, if only…

“Actually,” you replied. “I don’t focus too much on physical appearances. I’m attracted to what’s underneath.”

“Oh really?” mused Suga while tugging at his waistband. “Is that an invitation to take off our clothes?”

“What?” you sputtered. “I didn’t mean-”

“Relax, princess,” J-Hope giggled, coming to your rescue. “Suga is just a big flirt. I see Jimin remembered to give you the complimentary spa tote. Why don’t you take it into the bathroom and read the enclosed card? We’ll wait for you here and then take you for your first treatment of the day. How does that sound?”

You took one last look at the smug look on Suga’s face before he wrinkled his nose at you and you couldn’t help smiling at the cute facial expression. His face bloomed into a full gummy smile at your reaction and you blushed in response.

These guys are adorable and deadly. This is going to be a long day.

J-Hope chuckled as he handed you the spa tote and gestured toward the bathroom door. You took one last glance at the charming pair and closed the door before your mind started wandering further.

You reached into the tote and found a creamy envelope nestled in the fluffy robe. The thick ivory card inside was inked in deep purple and read:

Welcome to Bangtan Blossoms Spa! Please undress to your level of comfort and feel free to use the complimentary robe during your stay with us. We’ve also included an assortment of special spa items that you can use to enhance your spa experience. Please be assured that every experience at Bangtan Blossoms Spa is based on your consent, so don’t feel pressured to indulge in any spa experience that makes you uncomfortable. Just give your specialists your comfort level based on the scale below. Your satisfaction is our ultimate goal, so please don’t hesitate to speak yourself and we promise to comply. Enjoy your stay with us today, and we look forward to your visits in the future!

~ Bangtan Blossoms Spa

COMFORT LEVEL INDICATOR

(Very Uncomfortable) 1 to 7 (Absolutely Comfortable)

You read the card twice and the words “consent” and “comfort” piqued your interest. Typical spa experiences were pretty standard: massages, mani-pedi packages, facials, etc. Your imagination wandered down a path that was completely inappropriate as you tried to conjure up a spa experience that would be concerned with your comfort and consent, especially if it involved a particular pair of specialists.

I could definitely think of a few things I would consent to with them.

You set the card aside and pulled out the robe. As you were unfolding it, you glanced at the bottom of the tote and saw a pair of spongy sandals as well as several boxes and bottles. You pulled out each item and laid them on the counter, marveling at the variety of lubricants, lotions, oils, and adult toys in the collection.

What the fuck? Are they serious? Am I really allowed to use this stuff at the spa?

You quickly read the card again and giggled slightly. With one more look at your newly acquired playtime items, your curiosity reached epic proportions.

Oh, hell yeah. My comfort level just shot up to 7.

With a whirlwind of possibilities circling your brain, you undressed and covered your bare body with the fluffy bathrobe. The luscious fabric felt incredible on your bare skin and the sandals were already doing wonders for your feet.

I don’t know where they get their spa swag, but the quality is amazing.

You unpacked the various toys from their packages and slipped them into your tote along with the other items. You took one last look at your reflection in the mirror and took a deep breath.

Let’s see what these guys have in store for me today.

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

“Go ahead and have a seat, princess,” J-Hope instructed. “Suga and I need to get a few things ready before we start this treatment. Go ahead and put your hair up with this before we get started.”

He handed you a scrunchie and you pulled your hair into a tucked ponytail. The small room was outfitted with a padded table on one side and a set of cabinets on the other. Suga and J-Hope were busy mixing various oils and minerals into a large bowl with their gloved hands.

“I’m guessing this is some kind of salt scrub?” you predicted aloud. “You guys going to scrub the evil out of me?”

“Not exactly,” J-Hope replied. “This is a mix of coarse salt and raw sugar. The different sizes of granules polish off any dead skin or imperfections on your body. We’re also adding extracts of ginseng and cayenne to stimulate your pores and get some of those toxins out of your body.”

“So you can keep the evil, beautiful,” Suga quirked. “Keeps things interesting.”

“You guys aren’t like other spa specialists I’ve encountered,” you commented. “Most are so reserved and formal.”

“Ah, yeah, we’ve met some of those people,” J-Hope chuckled. “So uptight.’

“Our company policy is to make the customer as comfortable and satisfied as possible,” Suga continued. “Happy customers are repeat customers. We’ve discovered that we can spread more happiness by just being ourselves and by offering customers a more immersive experience.”

“How immersive?” you probed, thinking of the items in your tote.

J-Hope grinned and looked up at Suga, who smirked before winking at you.

“As immersive as you want, beautiful,” Suga replied. “J-Hope and I are yours for the day. Just let us know what we can do to make your stay with us as pleasurable as possible.

Your eyebrow quirked at his mention of “pleasurable” and you leaned over to open your tote and pull out the wireless vibrating egg and a bottle of lube. Suga’s gummy smile made another appearance and J-Hope’s grin increased in wattage as you fiddled with the buttons on the sleek black toy.

“Want me to help you with that, princess?” J-Hope offered sweetly. “There are some functions on that toy that I think you’d be very interested in.”

You smiled at his offer and held the toy out to him. He lifted his hands out of the bowl to discard the gloves and walked over to the side sink to wash his hands. You glanced over at Suga to gauge his reaction.

“Go ahead, beautiful,” Suga murmured. “I’ll finish getting this ready while J-Hope preps you.”

“Did you bring your phone with you, princess?” J-Hope queried. “We have a wireless charging station over here if you’d like to charge it.”

“Ummm, sure,” you replied, standing up with your phone in hand and the egg in the other. “Does this also need to be charged?”

“No, we make sure they are all fully charged before we give them to the clients,” J-Hope assured you. “What’s a toy if you can’t play with it right away? Here, let me show you how to use it, yeah?”

J-Hope put on a new set of gloves and helped you download an app to control the functions of your new toy and even showed you how to sync it to a music playlist which would match the vibrations to the rhythms of each song.

“So pick out your music and you’re good to go,” J-Hope remarked. “Would like me to get you started, princess? I think Suga is ready to start your treatment.”

You glanced over at Suga with questioning eyes and his lips quirked into a small smile.

“It’s ok, beautiful,” Suga cooed. “You and I can play later, I promise. Why don’t you get that robe off for us and lie on the table, huh?”

You giggled at his adorable response and handed over your phone and toy to J-Hope before stepping away to disrobe. You unabashedly slid the robe down your body and tossed it on the chair before laying facedown on the table. You shifted your gaze to Suga to catch his eyes roving over your naked form in appreciation. You both shared a wicked smile as J-Hope turned on the toy and filled the room with a soft buzzing sound. He made sure the velvety egg was properly synced to your phone and then walked over to the table.

“Now, princess,” he began. “Do you have a preference on where I put this little toy?”

“Specialist’s choice,” you challenged. “I trust you.”

A large slender hand wrapped around your calf causing you to jolt slightly. Your elevated heart rate slowed as J-Hope massaged your calf lightly.

“Comfort level, princess?” J-Hope asked. “I need to know before I continue.”

“7,” you hummed. “Definitely a 7.”

“You’re so eager,” Suga chuckled. “I like that. Are you ready for your scrubdown, beautiful?”

“Absolutely,” you breathed out as J-Hope continued to massage your legs. “Whatever is in that bowl smells heavenly.”

“We added some essential oils to relax you as we scrub,” he informed you while grabbing a handful of the mixture. “I have to warn you, this treatment is a little intense. The ginseng is going to energize you, but the cayenne is going to make your skin feel heated. If it’s too much, you need to let us know.”

“I will,” you promised. “Thank you for the warning.”

“Ok, then I’m going to start,” Suga announced. “J-Hope will join me as soon as he gets that toy of yours situated.”

“Oh yeah?” you mused. “And when is he-”

Soothing instrumental music filled the room as J-Hope started your playlist. You yelped as you felt the pulsating vibrations on the back of your thigh. J-Hope began simultaneously massaging your lower limbs while trailing the vibrating egg along your skin.

“Ah, J-Hope,” you preened. “Don’t tease me.”

“No?” he giggled. “You seem to like it? Just look at how aroused you are right now.”

J-Hope slipped the egg between your legs and gathered the arousal leaking down your thighs. He rubbed the tip across your glistening slit and relished the subtle undulations he was causing.

“Hold still for a moment, princess,” J-Hope instructed. “I need to get this inside of you so I can help Suga.”

The vibrations left your body as Suga stood at the front of the table just in front of your face. He leaned forward and spread two handfuls of the scrub mixture across your back and began lightly massaging it into your upper back and shoulders. The rough texture paired with the soothing scent felt magnificent and the slight pressure he was using caused you to moan out softly.

“That feels so good, Suga,” you gasped. “Your hands are magical.”

“Magical, huh?” Suga smirked. “Just wait until later, beautiful. My hands can do so much more.”

He continued to scrub your shoulders and arms while you noticed the buzzing sound approaching the table once again. Before you could ask any questions, you felt a hand grip the back of your thigh. J-Hope’s thumb rubbed small circles while getting closer to your dripping center. The now lubricated egg made another appearance at your entrance and he slowly worked it inside while reaching underneath you to stimulate your hardened clit.

Once the egg was fully inside, you could feel it grazing just below your G-spot and your hips writhed slightly trying to reach that one spot. You tried to arch your back, but both Suga and J-Hope braced your body to hold you still.

“Try not to move too much, sweetheart,” Suga suggested. “This treatment works best if you hold still. Let us move your body for you.”

“But it feels so good,” you whimpered as the vibrations to the beat of your selected playlist.

“I know it does,” chuckled J-Hope. “Be a good girl and let us take care of you, yeah?”

You took a deep breath and resisted the urge to squirm on the table. Four hands began scrubbing your skin with the oiled salt-sugar mixture and you couldn’t decide what was more distracting: their skilled hands or the little bundle of pleasure edging you with every down beat. Each sweeping motion tingled and the added bonus of exfoliation intensified the overall sensations you were experiencing. You started to find a manageable position to endure both their ministrations and the stimulation down below, but then Suga tapped you on the shoulder and asked you to turn over.

As soon as you got onto your back, you realized that you were in trouble. Your nipples were standing fully erect and both J-Hope and Suga now had a clear view of the copious arousal leaking out of your hypersensitive sex. In addition, the ginseng and cayenne were at war on your skin, spreading a soothing warmth and also inciting a surge of energy that only facilitated more stimulation. You moaned out at the simultaneous stimuli and your specialists grinned.

“Problems, princess?” Suga teased. “What’s your comfort level?”

“U-ummm,” you stuttered. “A 6, but only because I’m a little frustrated.”

“Frustrated, huh?” J-Hope giggled. “Can you hold out a little longer, princess? Suga and I promise to take care of that as soon as we’re done with this treatment. These materials can irritate your sensitive areas, so we need to be careful.”

“O-ok,” you pouted while shifting slightly on the table. “I’ll be good.”

“That’s right, beautiful,” Suga expressed while scrubbing your arms. “Who’s our good girl?”

“I am,” you sighed while closing your eyes. “I’m your good girl.”

Suga leaned down and brushed his lips across your cheek before sliding his hands down your chest and onto your breasts. You gasped as his fingers pulled on your hardened peaks, but then you felt another set of hands join him and you involuntarily moaned out.

“Oh, she liked that,” J-Hope affirmed. “Your tits are amazing, princess. So full and plump.”

“Are you really that surprised, J-Hope?” Suga chuckled. You felt how firm and luscious her ass was. She’s fucking perfect.”

You squealed inwardly at their laudatory statements, you couldn’t help smiling as they continued to shower you with compliments about your body. J-Hope and Suga began alternating their hands across your body while scrubbing into every possible crevice, spreading the lovely tingling warmth to all of your extremities.

“Ok, princess,” J-Hope announced. “It’s time to rinse. Let Suga help you off the table. I’ll get the shower ready.”

Suga took your hand and helped you sit up on the table. Once you stepped down, he led you behind a wall of glass bricks which hid a small shower area. J-Hope adjusted the temperature of the water before turning on the spray nozzles mounted on top of the wall.

Once Suga removed your hair tie, he maneuvered you under the nozzles, and he and J-Hope began sweeping their hands across your body to remove the excess granules and oils lingering on your body. Each caress caused jolts of pleasure which were intensified by the ceaseless pulsations between your legs. You shifted your weight back and forth trying to build up some friction, but their actions didn’t allow enough stimulation and you were left whining slightly as your gratification drifted away time and time again.

On the plus side, both J-Hope and Suga were showing more of themselves than before. The white linen was clinging to their skin as more and more of their clothing soaked up the sudsy water. The two of them seemed completely unconcerned about the fact that their clothes were getting completely drenched. You licked your lips as lean muscle and hard lines were revealed bit by bit.

Not that I’m complaining. These two are a sight to see, especially when they’re dripping wet.

Once they were satisfied that your skin was clear of the scrub mix, they grabbed a couple of loofahs and began lathering your skin with a spicy scented body wash. You wanted to argue that you could wash your own body, but the lingering touches and gentle gropes quickly put that idea to bed. You didn’t fail to notice that their fingertips paid extra special attention to your breasts, ass, and inner thighs.

These fucking teases!

J-Hope pulled back to wring out his loofah and place it back in the basket and Suga did the same. You squirmed in exasperation as their hands left your body and another whine escaped your lips as a heavy bass line started up on your playlist. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on the vibrations while rubbing your thighs together slightly.

“Still feeling frustrated, princess?” J-Hope murmured into your ear. “Would you like a reward for being such a good girl?”

“Yes, please,” you groaned lightly. “Thank you.”

“So polite,” Suga chuckled. “I like her.”

J-Hope reached down and dipped his middle finger into your slippery folds. The soft squelches caused him to hum with delight.

“You hear that, princess?” he asked sweetly. “You’re soaking wet down here. Is this all for us? Did we get you this excited?”

“Mmmm, yes,” you moaned while gripping his shoulder tightly. “I couldn’t concentrate on anything else while you were touching me.”

Suga placed one hand on your lower back and reached up with the other to roll one of your nipples between his fingers. You yelped as he pinched it slightly and pulled, but it quickly morphed into a moan as J-Hope tugged on the egg and pulled it out of your drenched pussy. He circled your swollen clit with the vibrating toy and pulled moan after moan out of your mouth. You were so distracted by his actions that you didn’t realize Suga’s hand was dipping further south.

You squealed with pleasure as his deft fingers slipped into your aching core from behind and your hips rocked back against them impatiently. You were desperately trying to reach your climax, but it just kept building higher and higher.

“Come on, beautiful,” Suga gruffed into your ear seductively. “Just let go.”

His raspy voice snapped your synapses into place and the orgasm you’d been chasing exploded like dynamite. You nearly screamed as wave after wave of ecstasy erupted across your nerve endings, and they held you in place and helped you ride it out like true gentlemen. Once the pleasure shifted into overstimulation, you tugged at their wrists.

“3, guys,” you groaned fretfully. “Give me some time to recover.”

They immediately ceased their actions and allowed you some time to gather your composure. You stepped back into the stream of water and quickly swept away any excess arousal from between your legs and let out a large satisfied sigh. Once you were done, they turned off the water and began putting things back in their place.

“That was incredible,” you proclaimed. “Thank you.”

“Oh, it was our pleasure, beautiful,” Suga drawled. “Did you enjoy your first treatment?”

“Enjoy it?” you blurted out. “If all of the treatments are that good, I may never leave this spa. How many treatments am I getting anyway?”

“7, actually,” J-Hope smiled. “The scrub was your first, and the second is some time in the steam room. Let me get you a few towels and show you to the sauna. Suga and I will get changed while you enjoy your steam.”

“You’re not joining me?” you asked. “I’ll be all alone?”

They exchanged a look and grinned at your pouty face. J-Hope tossed a fluffy towel over to Suga and they began to dry off your body and hair. J-Hope wrapped your torso in an oversized towel while Suga began to pat your hair dry.

“If you want us to join you, we certainly can,” Suga responded while meticulously squeezing the excess water out of your hair. “Just give us a sec to get changed. We can’t go in there soaking wet.”

“You could just take your clothes off, y’know,” you joked. “I mean, I’m just going to be wearing a towel. You guys could do the same.”

“Let’s listen to the gorgeous client, J-Hope,” Suga argued. “She makes some very valid points.”

“Ok, ok,” J-Hope snickered. “If princess wants us naked, then naked we will be. You can’t hold us responsible for any shenanigans that may occur while we’re naked though.”

“Deal,” you confirmed with a smirk. “Who knows what might happen when we’re all hot and sweaty?”

The two specialists laughed at your insinuation and they lifted their linen shirts over their heads. The fabric landed in a soggy heap on the floor, and your eyes roved over the glistening skin revealed to you. J-Hope’s honeyed skin was rippling with lean sinewy muscle, while Suga’s alabaster skin gleamed under the lights like fresh cream. You didn’t even realize you were biting your lip until Suga reached up to pull it out from between your teeth.

“Hungry, beautiful?” he mused. “I could get you a snack, if you want.”

“I’m good on snacks,” you countered with a wink. “But I am a little thirsty.”

J-Hope shook his head and chuckled at your words. Most clients took a while to let loose, but you jumped right in and he was loving it. He noticed Suga’s tongue poking out the corner of his mouth and he decided to let the two of you have a little fun. It was only fair since he got to play with you first.

“Since our princess is so thirsty, let me go get her something to drink,” J-Hope proposed. “Suga, will you show her to the steam room?”

“With pleasure,” Suga agreed. “Come along, beautiful. Let’s get you comfortable.”

Suga led you across the room to a frosted glass door with the word “Sauna” scrawled across the front in swirling letters. As soon as he opened the door, a wave of humidity assaulted your senses and your skin prickled with goose pimples at the shift in temperature.

“Your skin may be a little sensitive after the scrub,” Suga explained as he felt you shudder. “Give the steam a minute or two to regulate your body temperature and you will start to feel better. Have a seat inside, beautiful. I’m going to get myself into a towel and then I will join you, yeah?”

“Ok,” you pouted. “Don’t be gone too long.”

You took a seat on the corner of the L-shaped bench and stretched your legs out. True to his word, the discomfort you’d felt upon entry was slowly dissipating with every drop of perspiration that left your pores. Somehow, the scrub invigorated your skin and the steam was now bringing it back down to a state of complete relaxation.

They really plan these treatments out well.

The door opened to reveal both Suga and J-Hope with towels wrapped around their waists. J-Hope was carrying three large bottles of water, and he handed one over to you and one to Suga. They sat on either side of you, with Suga pulling your legs over his lap and J-Hope wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“Ok, princess,” J-Hope began. “You get a 15 minute steam, and then we’ll take you to your next treatment. How does that sound?”

“Only 15 minutes?” you whined. “Why so little?”

“The steam is going to dehydrate your body, beautiful,” Suga explained while rubbing your feet. “After scrubbing you down, your body needs to sweat out the excess. The shower only does so much.”

“Drink your water, princess,” J-Hope reminded you. “We can’t have our lovely client thirsty, now can we?”

You nodded and took a long drink of water, not realizing how thirsty you actually were. Suga’s hands continued trailing across your skin and you were mesmerized by the prominent veins gleaming under the surface. You didn’t even realize that you were breathing heavily until J-Hope’s delicate fingers caught your towel just as it became untucked from your heaving breasts.

“Someone is a little excited,” J-Hope teased while moving your hair away from your neck. “Aren’t Suga’s hands pretty on your skin, princess?”

“Y-yeah,” you gulped. “They really are.”

“Would you like to see what else they can do, beautiful?” Suga challenged while licking his lips. “I only gave you a little taste earlier.”

“I mean I’m not gonna say no,” you giggled. “But I’m also wondering about that tongue of yours.”

Suga grinned a big gummy smile at you before pulling your leg up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to your ankle and your breath hitched. He suckled lightly at your skin before you saw a flash of pink sneak out and trace a long stripe across the top of your foot. J-Hope’s fingers tugged lightly at your towel, and on the next lick Suga’s tongue inflicted on your skin, the towel fell open to expose your heated skin heaving in anticipation.

“So pretty,” J-Hope commented while kissing your bare shoulder. “You have no idea what you’re doing to us, do you, princess?”

“She really doesn’t” Suga chuckled in a dulcet tone while nipping at your toe with his lips. “She just sits there looking like some kind of goddess, tempting us over and over again.”

Suga slotted himself between your legs and licked his way up to your center. With one fluid motion, his tongue swirled the arousal nestled around your clit and he groaned as he swallowed.

“Holy fuck, that’s good,” he hissed. “We gotta get you out of here, beautiful. We might break the sauna if we turn the heat up any more.”

“Don’t stop,” you whined. “I want more of that tongue of yours.”

“You’ll get more, princess,” J-Hope promised. “We just need to get out of the sauna. We can’t risk getting too physical in here, it’s not safe. Come on.”

He helped you stand while Suga wrapped the towel around your body, making sure to tuck in the end so it wouldn’t fall. Suga walked over to the door of the sauna and held it open as you and J-Hope walked out, grabbing your tote as you exited. Suga held your robe open while J-Hope removed your towel and tossed it in a laundry bin. Once you were wrapped up in the cozy terry cloth, J-Hope and Suga traded their towels for a clean set of linen clothes.

They led you down the hall and into a large room with a wide in-ground pond full of steaming purple water. There were sprigs of white and purple flowers floating on the surface and a lovely sweet scent filling your nostrils.

“That smells amazing,” you sighed. “What is that?”

“That is the soaking pool,” Suga explained. “After your mud bath, you get a 20 minute soak in the pool. We had it prepared with lavender and vanilla blossoms just for you, beautiful.”

“A mud bath?” you queried. “Didn’t you just get me all cleaned up? You’re going to get me dirty again?”

“In more ways than one, princess,” J-Hope teased. “Let’s just say that your spa treatments today will alternate between dirty and clean.”

“So what’s next?” you purred. “I hope it’s dirty.”

“Oh, it’s very dirty, beautiful,” Suga murmured behind you. “You’re gonna love it.”

J-Hope pulled you over to the other end of the room next to a massive Japanese soaking tub filled with sludgy gray liquid. You stood on the thick padded mats surrounding the tub while the two specialists gathered an assortment of bottles and glass containers and then spread them out on a shelf by the tub.

“Ok, princess, it’s time to choose,” J-Hope informed you. “The mud is already mixed with crushed volcanic rock to help with exfoliation, but we do have additives that can make the experience even more satisfying.”

“Really?” you wondered aloud. “Like what?”

“Well, there’s the usual things like flowers or plants,” Suga explained. “We have a lot of combinations that can soothe your skin or create a scent while you bathe. However, there are some infused oils we can add that can give you a different kind of experience.”

“You had me at different,” you smiled. “Tell me about these oils.”

“We have a few cannabis infused oils here that we harvest from our farm,” J-Hope pointed out. “There are THC oils and CBD oils, so depending on whether you’re looking for relaxation or recreation, you can choose what to mix into your mud bath.”

You perused the collection and picked out a CBD oil called Otsukare and you noted the amount of CBD infused into the oil. Considering the insanity of the school year you just finished, you needed a nice deep relaxing experience. You handed the oil over to Suga and he nodded once before pour the oil into the tub. He hit a button on the side and a small motor started up, filling the room with a soft buzz.

“The oil needs to be mixed in completely before you can get in, beautiful,” Suga explained. “We will just have to find something to occupy our time until it’s ready.”

J-Hope stepped behind you and ran his hands up and down your arms, his nose nuzzling against your hair as you released an enthusiastic hum.

“What did you have in mind?” you breathed out.

Suga stepped in front of you and parted your robe before reaching down to feel the slickness between your thighs. Your breath stuttered as he delved into your folds with his skilled digits.

“You’re still so wet, beautiful,” Suga groaned. “I love how responsive you are.”

You stifled your moans by biting on your bottom lip, embarrassed by the loud echoes bouncing off the walls. J-Hope chuckled at your display of restraint and tilted your head back so he could point to the silvery globe in the corner of the room.

“Why hold back, princess?” J-Hope whispered. “Jimin can see everything going on in every inch of this place. I guarantee he’s been watching us this entire time.”

“Oh, definitely,” Suga agreed. “If not him, then it’s probably Jungkook. So let go of that lip, sweetheart. Let us hear how good we’re making you feel.”

Your eyes widened at the thought of someone watching this lewd display and the shock loosened your tongue completely. Your wails reverberated across the walls as Suga’s fingers began pumping in and out of your dripping cunt. J-Hope slipped your robe off completely and cupped your breasts with his large hands as he nibbled on your earlobe.

You closed your eyes as you imagined either Jimin or Jungkook witnessing the debauchery unfolding. Just the thought of those delicious specimens caused you to clench around Suga’s fingers and he groaned at the sensation.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Suga mused. “I think she likes that the boys are probably watching us ravage her, J-Hope.”

“I think you’re right,” J-Hope snickered while pulling gently on your nipples. “Let’s give the boys a real show, yeah? What’s your comfort level, princess?”

“It’s a 7, fuck,” you croaked out as Suga curled his fingers along your G-spot. “Yeah, it’s totally a 7.”

“Would you like to play with some more of those toys you have in your tote?” Suga asked. “We’d love to help you give them a test run.”

“Yeah, we can do that,” you mewled as he pulled out his fingers and ran the excess arousal around your swollen clit. “Pick something out. I’m ok with everything in that bag.”

Suga lifted his fingers and sucked on them while smiling. He took his shirt off and dried off the excess before walking over to retrieve an item from your tote. J-Hope spun you around and kneeled so his tongue could dive into the mess Suga left between your legs. You ran your fingers through his light brown tresses as he bestowed your pussy with a neverending onslaught of French kisses. You were so enthralled by his fancy tongue work that you didn’t realize Suga was behind you until you felt his fingers sneaking between your ass cheeks to spread a slippery liquid that warmed as he probed at your puckered rim.

“Guess what I found, beautiful,” Suga teased. “J-Hope and I are going to make sure you release some more of that tension before we put you in that mud bath. Let’s get you prepped first, yeah?”

His skilled finger worked its way into your well lubricated asshole and one finger quickly became two as he scissored your back entrance open. The dual stimulation from both Suga and J-Hope tingled across your nerve endings as your body was finely tuned with pleasure. Your moans went up an octave as you felt something smooth and blunt vibrate against your lubricated hole.

“Comfort level, beautiful,” Suga said in a raspy voice dripping with lust. “Tell me before I put this in.”

“7!” you wailed. “Please, 7!”

“You heard her,” J-Hope groaned as he stood up, wiping his glistening face. “Go ahead, put it in.”

You braced yourself against J-Hope’s chest as you felt Suga’s slowly push the vibrating toy in. You whimpered at the stretch, and J-Hope stroked your hair and kissed your temple until you felt the toy taper off and then nestle snugly just inside your ass.

“I guess you found the butt plug, Suga?” you gritted out. “Not what I thought you’d choose.”

“You did say we could choose anything, beautiful,” Suga shrugged before laying his hand heavily across your right ass cheek. “And this ass is too perfect not to play with.”

“Where’s the remote?” J-Hope asked. “I want to play with it.”

“I set it to alternate patterns every 3 minutes,” Suga informed him. “We have other things we can play with.”

J-Hope’s wolfish grin sent a chill down your spine as the vibrations changed from a steady buzz to a series of sharp pulses. You yelped at the transition and then nearly purred when you saw both specialists shedding their clothes once again to reveal their fully erect penises. While J-Hope’s cock was a dusky pink, Suga’s was a shade lighter. What they had in common was impressive girth and a turgid length that made your mouth water.

“Hungry again, beautiful?” Suga teased. “Do you want a little taste before we wrap them up for playtime?”

Suga began languidly stroking his dick while J-Hope slipped his fingers into your hair and pulled your face toward him. The fire dancing around his dilated pupils made you tremble with anticipation, and his voice dropped an octave when he finally spoke.

“Comfort level, princess.” J-Hope gritted out. “Things are about to get a little intense, and we need to know that you’re ok with it.”

“Still a 7,” you whined. “You’d be surprised how much I can take.”

J-Hope chuckled and leaned in to nip at your earlobe as Suga stepped in to do the same. You sighed at their lavish treatment and started running your hands along the hard planes of their bodies. A harsh pull from J-Hope’s hand stopped your exploration and you sucked in a deep breath.

“On your knees, princess,” J-Hope instructed. “Make sure we’re good and ready for you.”

Your knees hit the mat the instant that J-Hope released your hair and you gazed up at your pair of pleasure specialists. Suga tossed a condom over to J-Hope and they looked down and smiled at your acquiescence.

“Such a good girl, isn’t she?” Suga cooed. “Look at how pretty she looks on her knees, just waiting for us to wreck her.”

You smiled widely at his words and pulled your lip between your teeth before reaching out to take both of their cocks into your hands. They both reached down to stroke your hair as you began sinking onto each of their lengths, dragging and swirling your tongue to collect every drop of precum that presented itself. They each had a unique flavor and mixing the two together proved to be an intoxicating combination.

He and Suga were alternating soft moans as you continued to stroke, lick, and suck at them hungrily. You started rocking your hips back forth, desperate for some kind of friction down below. The butt plug was still sending jolts of pleasure in alternating rhythms, but it simply wasn’t enough.

“Easy, princess,” J-Hope groaned. “We don’t want you tiring yourself out before we get a chance to play with you.”

Suga gently pulled you off his dick by your hair, but you refused to have your new toy taken away from you, so he pulled a little harder to get your attention. You whined in protest as they both helped you to your feet, but you were quickly silenced by Suga’s magnificent tongue diving into your open mouth. You were so distracted by his hypnotic kisses that you almost missed the sound of a condom wrapper being opened behind you. Suga pulled back and pressed one last lingering kiss to your mouth before spinning you around to face J-Hope.

“I hope you’re ready for me, princess,” J-Hope announced. “Because I’m going in.”

J-Hope pulled you into his arms and picked you up bridal style. As he was kneeling onto the mats, you latched onto his lips and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. As your ass hit the mat, you immediately spread your legs to accommodate his svelte frame. You only released his lips to moan when you felt him teasing your clit with the head of his cock. A copious amount of arousal collected onto his throbbing length and he groaned as you rolled your hips against him.

“Be patient, princess,” J-Hope begged. “There’s no need to rush.”

“Yeah,” Suga smirked while rolling on a condom. “We’re not going anywhere.”

You felt J-Hope breach past your glistening folds as he sheathed his cock inside your velvety walls in one thrust. You were so aroused that he slid right in, stretching you out so nicely that you mewled in ecstasy. The vibrations from the butt plug caused you both to groan as they shifted yet again to a different rhythm. You clenched tightly around his shaft in response and he moaned deliciously above you.

“Oh my gods,” J-Hope murmured. “You’re squeezing me so tightly, princess.”

“Well, that’s great for you,” Suga mused. “But how am I going to fit if she doesn’t relax a little?”

Your lust-addled brain flickered into clarity briefly to consider what Suga just uttered.

Fit? What does he mean fit?

J-Hope’s shallow thrusts increased in pace until you were writhing against his hips to multiply the amount of friction. You were losing yourself to the wondrous sensation of J-Hope’s dick plunging into your depths and the shifting vibrations of the butt plug, so you dismissed Suga’s odd comment.

“Hold on, princess,” J-Hope muttered. “I want to see you ride me.”

With amazing coordination, he rolled onto his back while keeping you both connected. Now that you had control of the situation, you planted your palms on his golden chest and started bouncing away on his stiff cock, loving the erotic sight of his hair splayed on the mat and his half-lidded eyes watching your tits as they defied gravity over and over again. You were well on your way to a blazing orgasm when you felt Suga wrap his long fingers around your neck.

“That’s it, beautiful,” Suga murmured in an impassioned voice. “Get that pussy nice and wet for me.”

His fingers tightened slightly around your throat and you gasped slightly as your vision became a little fuzzy. You felt him kneel behind you and then wrap his other arm around your waist. J-Hope’s hands gripped your hips and rocked you back and forth on his dick while Suga’s fingers quickly found your clit. With both of them working in tandem, you soared into a blinding orgasm that left you shaking and lifeless on J-Hope’s chest.

You were just about to try and lift up your head when you felt Suga pushing the blunt head of his cock against your quivering entrance.

“Come on, gorgeous,” Suga prompted. “Relax a little and let me inside. I want to feel this glorious cunt that J-Hope keeps whining about.”

J-Hope lifted your head and gently licked his way inside of your mouth. With your mind focused on his magnificent kissing skills, your body released the tension you were unconsciously holding onto and you squeaked as you felt Suga’s engorged mushroom tip glide its way into your yielding pussy alongside J-Hope. The burning stretch was slightly overwhelming, but with both men soothing you and the vibrations in your ass stimulating you, more and more of your golden ichor leaked from your pussy to accommodate both cocks as they began to grind their hips against you.

“Holy fuck, beautiful,” Suga grunted. “J-Hope wasn’t lying. Your pussy feels fucking amazing. Oh man, I think I live here now.”

“Told you, dude,” J-Hope groaned. “This precious little doll can take both of us and still feel tight as hell.”

The tightness in your clit was growing exponentially and as their thrusts grew more forceful, the overwhelming amount of stimulation started to push you over the edge once again. Suga started fiddling with the controls on the bottom of the butt plug and switched to a full blown consistent vibration which threw all three of you into a moaning mess.

Both men pounded into your pussy as a deluge of arousal gushed forth, and before you could try to form a coherent thought, your body seized up and white light flashed across your vision. Your body went completely still as wave after wave of pleasure crashed throughout your body. The orgasm was so intense that you squirted all over the place, which caused both Suga and J-Hope to lose control and empty themselves into their condoms.

Suga slowly pulled out and sat back onto his heels and J-Hope rolled you onto your side so he could withdraw as well. You whined at the overstimulation caused by the butt plug still vibrating at full speed and Suga quickly found the remote control to turn it off. Once the buzzing ceased, you truly relaxed into the mats and breathed out a small giggle.

“That was fucking intense, guys,” you admitted. “But I”m still at fucking 7.”

J-Hope’s eyes widened and so did Suga’s gummy smile. They were afraid that they’d pushed you too far on your first visit, but it seemed like they still had a lot to learn about your limits. Suga got up and walked over to the tub and checked the consistency of the mud.

“Your bath is ready, gorgeous,” Suga announced. “Let’s get you into the tub, yeah?”

“But I’m all dirty,” you protested. “Should I rinse first?”

“Princess, you’re about to get into a tub of mud,” J-Hope reminded you. “I think dirty is the only thing you can be right now.”

You all laughed at the absurdity of his words and you simply nodded in agreement as they helped you off the mats and into the warm mud. Once you were submerged in the slick liquid, rested your head against the wall and breathed out a sigh of relief. The warmth was doing wonders for your aching muscles and the gentle exfoliation of the crushed volcanic rock felt marvelous. You were just about to ask about the CBD additive when you started to feel a slight tingle creep over your skin. The tingle grew into a gentle buzz that sent your body into a languid stupor of relaxation.

“Oh my,” you sighed. “You guys weren’t kidding about that oil. It feels amazing in here.”

The two specialists chuckled and started cleaning up the mess around the tub while checking on the soaking pool. You were just about to drift off into a light nap when Suga tapped on your shoulder.

“Ok, beautiful,” he called out. “It’s time to get out.”

“What?” you asked incredulously. “No, it feels so good in here. Let me stay in a little longer, please?”

“Nope, sorry,” J-Hope called out. “That volcanic rock may feel good now, but it will start to burn if you stay in too long. Come on, get up, princess.”

Reluctantly, you stood up in the tub and pulled yourself onto the mats. Suga turned off the motor for the tub and led you over to J-Hope who had a nozzled water hose with lukewarm water streaming out. Suga was quick to remind you that you needed to remove your butt plug before entering the pool, so you leaned onto J-Hope for support as he gently pulled it out and cleaned it before setting it back into your tote.

After they hosed you down, they led you over to the soaking pool and helped you step into the hot sweet water. With the flowers floating around you and the wisps of scented steam enveloping your senses, you felt like royalty with your servants walking around doing your bidding. Your twenty minutes in the tub passed sooner than you expected, and you were soon being hoisted out of the pool, dried off, and wrapped up in your robe once again. Once Suga and J-Hope were dressed in yet another set of linen clothes, you grabbed your tote and left down the hall for yet another room with a padded table.

This room was different though. There were diffusers releasing curls of peppermint mist around the room and the table had a hole on one end. You tossed your tote into a basket by the door and walked over to the table to await your instructions.

“Time for your massage, beautiful,” Suga informed you. “Take off your robe and get on the table. J-Hope and I need to get ready.”

“You’re both going to massage me?” you asked. “How does that even work?”

“Just like it did before, princess,” J-Hope smirked. “One on each side.”

You blushed slightly, remembering your previous activities, and disrobed before climbing onto the table face down. You listened as they wandered around the room gathering sundry items before stationing themselves on either side of the table.

“This is a carefully coordinated massage, princess,” J-Hope stated. “So please hold still, or we will have to punish you, is that understood?”

“Punish, huh?” you snorted. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, gorgeous,” Suga remarked cooly. “That tongue of yours will get you into a lot of trouble one day.”

“That may be today,” J-Hope muttered. “Let’s see if she can behave, hmm?”

Instrumental music started up from the speaker in the corner and you felt a drizzle of warm liquid trail across your back from top to bottom. You shivered as it trickled down your sides and into any available crevice. Suga and J-Hope placed their wide palms on your back and spread the oil in small concentric circles until your entire back was covered.

You heard J-Hope count off and then the gentle pressure transformed into an intricate choreography of their fingertips wringing out every possible knot and ounce of tension left in your body. The only response you could give was a series of whimpers and groans when you felt a particularly stubborn knot refuse to budge or if their fingers dipped into sensitive areas. They reached a stopping point and removed their hands from your body.

“Ok, princess,” J-Hope said casually. “We need you to flip over. It’s time to massage your front.”

You whined loudly and huffed out an exhale of protest. Suga smacked your ass lightly and you lifted your head to pout at him.

“Don’t give me that look,” he reprimanded playfully. “Are you misbehaving? Do we need to punish you?”

“No,” you muttered while turning onto your side to face him. “I’m moving, I’m moving, geez.”

“So sassy,” J-Hope chuckled. “I think we should punish her a little anyway, just to work that sass out of her system. What do you think, Suga?”

Instead of replying, Suga simply smirked and walked over to the cabinet and started digging around for something. You turned onto your back and closed your eyes, feeling the stress of the past year just seep out onto the padded table.

I don’t know how much more relaxed I can get. These guys just chased all of those stress annoyances away with their magical hands.

A metallic jingle rang out in the room and you turned your head to see Suga holding up a length of fine chain connected to two small black clamps. The seven golden bells hanging along the chain jingled as he walked toward you.

“Since this is the Stay Gold Summer Special, let’s add a little more gold to your treatments,” Suga mused. “Every time you move and cause these bells to jingle, you will earn a spanking from us.”

“And don’t try to argue that we’re to blame,” J-Hope countered. “We will know when it’s our fault and when it’s not.”

You considered Suga’s words and decided that you were up to the challenge. You’d never tried nipple clamps before, but what the hell? A little spanking wasn’t going to scare you away from trying something new.

“Go ahead,” you prompted arrogantly. “A little pain never scared me.”

Suga chuckled at your response and leaned down to lavish your nipple with his tongue and J-Hope mirrored his actions on the other. Once both nipples were sufficiently erect, they each took a clamp and gently affixed it onto your hardened nubs. The pressure was sharp, but not unbearable. You took a deep breath and were pleased to see that your breath wouldn’t trigger a bell to go off accidentally. You were just about to close your eyes when a palm trailed across your thigh, causing your entire body to twitch involuntarily.

Ring, ring…

The seven bells jingled as your body twitched and you huffed out in frustration and glared at the offending hand belonging to J-Hope.

“What happened, princess?” he quirked. “Are we a little ticklish?”

“Just a little,” you admitted. “I can usually hold it in if I know it’s-”

SMACK!

You yelped in surprise as Suga’s heavy palm slammed down onto your exposed sex. The force of his slap left a harsh prickles along your clit and the telltale jingling sound that followed left you gritting your teeth. You snapped your eyes over to the smug smirk on Suga’s face and you narrowed your eyelids at him.

“What?” Suga shrugged. “We already told you. You move, you get spanked. I never specified where or when, did I?”

You pouted at him and his cool demeanor thawed just a bit. He leaned over you and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Was that too much for you, beautiful?” Suga asked sweetly. “What’s your comfort level?”

“Still a 7,” you muttered petulantly. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“If you say so, baby,” J-Hope snickered. “Now hold still while we finish your massage, ok?”

You nodded slightly as both he and Suga began their intricate hand choreography on your supine form. With the tension collecting at the tips of your breasts, you found it difficult to anticipate their fingers brushing along your ticklish zones. Much to your dismay, on more than one occasion, the bells rang out because you could suppress the urge to jerk and jostle your body away from them.

J-Hope took it upon himself to count each offense as they collected exponentially. Suga would periodically deliver a sharp slap to your thigh or even a lingering smack to your drenched center. Each lick of pain increased your arousal and you silently cursed the metallic traitors attached to your tits.

“Alright, princess,” Suga piped up. “We’re all done with your massage. J-Hope, what was the last count?”

“We still owe her 7,” J-Hope giggled. “Let’s switch hit.”

“You heard him, gorgeous,” Suga pointed out. “Time to take your punishment like a good girl. If you count them down, then I’ll give you a prize, yeah?”

They helped you to your feet and bent you over the table gently. Your stiff peaks hovered over the table and you rolled your eyes at the glint of silver and gold in the warm light. Two palms began rubbing circles onto your plump ass cheeks and you braced yourself for the impact. You didn’t know who was going to go first, but you were ready to take your licks like a champ.

SMACK!

Both palms landed across your ass without warning and they rubbed both hits in gently as your body jerked forward against the table. The shock and subsequent jingling wore off quickly, and you remembered Suga’s promise and the bells ceased their taunting tinkling.

“One,” you gasped. “Two.”

“Good girl,” Suga replied. “Keep it up. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

They alternated spanks across both of your cheeks until the count reached seven. You spoke out the last count and slumped on the table trying to catch your breath. The combination of the spanks and the tension on your nipples was dizzying and you needed some sort of relief.

As though he could hear your silent prayer, J-Hope reached over and began rubbing a soothing cream over your reddened flesh. He murmured sweet nothings to you while he diligently chased away any lingering pain remaining from your punishment and you beamed at each uttered phrase from his lips.

“You’ve been such a good girl, beautiful,” Suga remarked. “Turn around, baby, and I’ll give you that prize I mentioned.”

You didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t Suga falling to his knees in front of you. He kissed across your hips and all the way to your center and you spread your legs further to accommodate his slim frame. He meticulously licked his way to your sweet spot and lavished your dripping folds with unparalleled affection. Your delicious moans mixed in with the successive jingles from the nipple clamps and you entertained the notion that you’d become an instrument for Suga to play. His diligent tongue technique was befuddling your senses and you submitted yourself to the symphony he was orchestrating between your thighs.

J-Hope made his way behind the table and he hopped onto it so he could straddle your body from behind. He brushed your hair away from your face so he could get a better look at the erotic facial expressions you were making. The tears forming at the corners of your eyes spoke volumes about how worked up you were getting.

“That’s it, baby,” J-Hope coaxed you along salaciously. “Don’t hold anything back. Let it all out.”

Suga’s slipped two fingers into your creamy pussy as his tongue began rigorously concentrating on your throbbing clitoris. As if anticipating your impending climax, J-Hope abandoned your hair and began gently tugging at the clamps still firmly attached to your nipples. As your body locked up to process your orgasm, he pulled the clamps from your tits completely, leaving a sweet blinding sting behind that he quickly soothed with his warm fingers. Suga stood up and grabbed a nearby towel to wipe his face clean and his gummy smile at your satiated state brightened the room substantially.

“Feel better, princess?” J-Hope whispered against your tear stained cheeks. “Did you like Suga’s prize?”

“It was incredible,” you sighed. “You guys are so attentive, I don’t know what to say. I wish everyday could be like this.”

The two specialists laughed at your wishful thinking and helped you back into your luxurious robe. You retrieved your tote from the basket and let them lead you down the hall to a small room with a pedicure chair. Suga took your tote and set it aside while J-Hope helped you into the chair. While J-Hope fiddled with the foot soaking tub controls, Suga grabbed a brush and began gently brushing the tangles out of your still damp hair.

“Ok, princess,” J-Hope said as the tub began bubbling. “Put your feet in the tub. Suga will apply your hair mask and face mask while I work on your pedicure. While the masks are doing their thing, he will also do your manicure. How does that sound?”

“That sounds like heaven,” you admitted. “I’m feeling so pampered today. Two gorgeous men attending to my every need? A girl could get used to this.”

They hummed in agreement as they worked tirelessly to get you all set up with multitudinous spa treatments at once. The hair mask was thick and fluffy golden cloud on top of your head and the face mask was jet black with flecks of gold peeking through. Suga briefly explained the various elements of each mask, but you were too caught up in J-Hope’s foot massage to retain any of that information. By the time they were both done completing their tasks, you were floating on a cloud of pure bliss.

“Ok, beautiful, feet up,” J-Hope instructed. “Suga is going to help you rinse off those masks while I clean this up.”

Suga led you over to a large sink where he got your hair and face rinsed completely before dabbing them dry with a large towel. You felt a little wobbly from the rollercoaster of activities throughout the day, and you were hoping for a break in the schedule.

“So what’s next, guys?” you piped up. “What other adventure do you have in store for me?”

“Oh, it’s a good one, beautiful,” Suga professed. “You’re going to love it.”

“Oh yeah?” you quipped. “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise,” J-Hope proclaimed. “We’re taking you back to your room for your last treatment of the day.”

Suga handed over your tote and the three of you wandered back down the hall to Room 7. You located your golden key within your tote and unlocked the door. Once the three of you were inside, Suga walked over to the closet and pulled out a stack of satin pajamas.

“Ready for your last treatment, baby?” J-Hope asked.

You looked at both of them and were perplexed. Nothing in the room suggested any form of debauchery or pampering, so what were you supposed to be looking at?

“What kind of treatment is it?” you asked. “I’m a little confused.”

“It’s a nap,” Suga beamed. “I know we put you through a lot of ups and downs today, but what better way to relax after all that than to take a nap?”

“What? How?” you sputtered. “The only place to nap is that lounger and we don’t all fit.”

J-Hope stepped forward and lifted the bottom of the lounger cushion to reveal a fold out bed. The mattress was topped with a thick memory foam topper and covered in luscious purple sheets. Suga nudged your shoulder and nodded at the pajamas in his hand.

“So which ones do you want, beautiful?” he murmured. “Pants, shorts, nightie, nothing?”

“I’ll take the shorts,” you giggled. “I think I need a break from sexual activity for a while. You guys wore me out today, but in the best possible way.”

Everyone changed into the soft pajamas and cuddled up on the bed. There was just enough room for all three of you to stretch out and snuggle into one another. You nuzzled into J-Hope’s chest and Suga curled around your frame as the big spoon. With a simple voice command, the room plunged into darkness and you felt the day slowly vanishing as you slipped into sweet oblivion in between your phenomenal new playmates. --------- “Wake up, angel,” a soft tinkling voice called out to you. “Wake up.”

You groaned slightly and stretched out on the bed like some kind of cat. When you opened your eyes, the room was dimly lit and both J-Hope and Suga were gone. Jimin’s angelic face smiled sweetly at you from across the bed. He was laid out beside you and obviously amused by your sleepy heavy face.

“Where did Suga and J-Hope go?” you pouted. “I thought we were taking a nap together.”

“You were, cutie,” Jimin confirmed. “But they had to leave a while ago to go prepare for tomorrow’s client. They didn’t want to wake you before you were ready. I came to check on you since we’re closing up soon.”

You sat up in bed and tried to shake the slumber out of your eyes. Jimin giggled softly and helped you stand up. You glanced around the room, wondering where to start.

“Why don’t you go into the bathroom and change into your regular clothes?” Jimin suggested. “I will gather up your things and prepare a little to-go basket for you. Does that sound good?”

You nodded and smiled at Jimin and you sighed at his adorable half moon eye smile.

Now that is something I don’t mind waking up to. The Universe blessed this boy with the most endearing features. I just want to squish his adorable face.

You changed into your clothes and walked out with the pajamas you’d worn. Before you could ask Jimin where to put them, he folded them and placed them in your tote. A loud knock boomed from the door and you could swear you could feel the annoyance seeping out of Jimin’s face. He opened the door to reveal an enthusiastic Jungkook carrying an empty basket lined with purple satin.

“Do you have to be so loud, Jungkook?” Jimin snapped. “Have some respect for our lovely guest.”

“Sorry,” Jungkook deflated. “Can I help make her basket, Jimin?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Jimin waved him off. “Make sure you aren’t just putting in things that you like. Remember when we discussed the meaning of the word variety?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook scoffed. “I know.”

While Jungkook began piling snacks and other sundry items into the basket, Jimin stepped forward and offered to help you fix your hair. It was sticking up all over the place after your nap, and he quickly smoothed out the tangles and styled it into a twist. He produced a decorative hair stick from a drawer and secured the twist in place and stepped back to admire his handiwork.

“Perfect,” he breathed out. “Absolutely perfect.”

“The basket is ready,” Jungkook announced. “Can I carry it out for her?”

“Yes, of course,” Jimin agreed. “Let’s get her over to reception so I can get her all checked out for the day.”

After returning your key and signing a few forms, Jimin handed over the receipt for the day’s activities along with a folder filled with information about the spa and an application for membership.

“All Bangtan Blossoms members are allowed to give out a spa day treatment like the one you experienced today,” Jimin explained. “If you decided that you’d like to take advantage of that special offer, just give me a call, cutie. I’ll hook you up with some fantastic spa swag and maybe even a little extra.”

You considered his offer as you tracked his tongue poking out to lick his lips seductively. The twinkle of mischief was dancing across his pupils again and you memorized the look in his eyes to get you through the next couple of nights.

Oh, I’m definitely going to be thinking about that.

“Thank you, Jimin,” you replied. “I will absolutely keep that in mind.”

He walked you and Jungkook to the door and sent you off with another suggestive kiss on the inside of your wrist.

“See you soon,” Jimin whispered with yearning. “I hope.”

Jimin licked his lips and cocked an eyebrow at you before sauntering back behind the reception desk. Jungkook glanced back and forth between the two of you with a predatory look in his eyes and you shook off the fleeting tingle of passion Jimin incited.

“Let me see you out to your car, sweetheart,” Jungkook offered. “It’s the least I can do.”

Jungkook held the door open for you as you exited the spa and headed for the parking lot. The sun was just dipping down to the horizon, and you gawked at the realization that you’d spent an entire day at the spa.

Worth. Every. Second.

Jungkook placed your gift basket and tote in your backseat before opening your car door for you like a gentleman.

“I hope you had a good time with us today,” Jungkook said. “If you did, that means you’ll probably come back. From what we saw today, I definitely want you to come back.”

“From what you saw?” you choked out. “What do you mean?”

The guilty smile creeping across his face said it all, but the wink he gave you only confirmed your suspicions. They’d been watching you all day. He lifted your hand to give it another kiss and spun around to walk back to the spa. You were left in the parking lot trying to clear the rush of blood that was dusting your cheeks pink.

These guys will be the death of me. I swear.

The only thought running through your mind as you drive home was figuring out when you’d be able to visit them again.

Soon, I hope.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed this little visit to the Bangtan Blossoms Spa. I know I did. If the Muse strikes again, maybe we can visit some of the other specialists? We’ll see ^-^

@caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma‘s MASTERLIST

#rejuvenation #bts au fic #jamaisjoons summer collab #tsb 2020 collab #bts sope #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #sope smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #park jimin #jeon jungkook #bts bangtan sonyeondan #spa day #jhope #suga bts

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katherinewilliams221b · 4 years ago

Text

For A Greater Good 18/18

not my gif

He Who Must Not Be Named

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

[Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14]

[Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17]

A/N: bold lines are from the book Harry Potter and The Order of The Phoenix

Severus Snape emerged from the shadows to stand in front of his ally.

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t come, Severus.” The voice of Albus Dumbledore was, as expected, steady and confident. “Do you have it?”

Snape approached him, eying the room with suspicion. It was the first time he had stepped inside Dumbledore’s hiding place, but despite he trusted the man, a chill ran down his spine. Keeping a stoic expression, he reached inside his robes and handed him a rolled piece of parchment.

“She had it with her. As you said.”

Dumbledore unrolled the document and nodded slowly. Another name wrote itself with the others.

“It is vital that Cornelius sees Voldemort first. After that, I will personally make sure that this information reaches the aurors.” The bearded man walked to the end of the room; the dim light of a candle outlined Fawkes’ silhouette.

“My name appears on that list.” Snape watched Dumbledore’s hand halt in the air. He turned around and with challenging eyes, he stared at him as he unrolled the parchment again. Turning his gaze back to the paper, Dumbledore pursed his lips together as if he was going to whistle and with a light blow, the name ‘Severus Snape’ left the paper in the form of black ashes.

He looked up at the potions teacher from up his glasses. Snape nodded.

“What happened to Yankelevich?”

“She will be brought to Nurmergard” The phoenix moved so his master could slide the parchment under him. “Attempted murder, at least.”

“I don’t understand why you sent Williams. Yankelevich wasn’t an immediate threat and Alastor could have done it faster and more efficiently.”

Dumbledore turned and put his hands behind his back. “You underestimate her. She’s learnt fast, and listened to your instructions, didn’t she? You were busy training Harry to notice, of course, but her occlumency skills have improved enormously, and she’s been practising how to communicate with Mr Weasley.”

“You said she would, yes…”

“Well, she refused using her patronus to communicate, and she needed to be away from him to practise.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but he reconsider it. At Snape’s piercing stare, he kept going, “Astrid knew someone was up to no good and needed a favour, however,” he pointed at Fawkes’ nest “that was my goal.”

He walked to the nearest chair and sat down, grabbing a goblet from the table. Before sipping, he caught how Snape’s jaw tensed. “Besides, Alastor’s never run freely around a castle, breaking rules and finding places he is not supposed to enter. She has.”

“How did she know how to find it?”

“I said her skills had improved, not that they were better than mine. I might have… given her a small guidance.” He raised his hand up to his temple’s level and brushed his index and thumb together. “ I was certain that Karkarov knew about the existence of the room. It was the most logical place to hide it.”

“Where is he now?” demanded Snape.

Dumbledore looked at his partner with amused eyes, but corrected his demeanour quickly. “I have no idea. I mistakenly believed he would be in the forest. I sent a letter to Katherine in hopes she would meet him there. Turns out, he is smarter than I thought.”

“It won’t be long until He finds out Karkarov’s writing that.” Snape pointed at Fawkes’s nest, and the bird chirped unhappily.

“I know.” He tsked and took a sip from his beverage, “But it was his choice.”

“What are you going to do until then?”

“We’ll wait. That spell is not easy to perform. We’ll let him write as much as he can.” They fell silent for a long while, lost in their thoughts, until Dumbledore spoke again.

“When?”

“Tomorrow. He wants the prophecy.”

“Of course. Of course…” he stood up and crossed his hands in front of him and searched in his companion’s black eyes. Snape reached inside his sleeve and took out a small vial with a silver liquid in it. He handed it to Dumbledore, who read the tag ‘K. Williams. Durmstrang’.

“She will not remember the names.”

With one last nod, Albus Dumbledore observed how his confidant dissolved in the air.

Katherine Williams awoke for the second time in the same Grimmauld Place’s cold room. She let the sun rays hit her eyelids and savoured the memory of Charlie’s firm body against her own.

When she reached behind her, only cold sheets wished her a good morning.

Promise me something. Promise me you’ll wake me up to say goodbye.

She stared at the pillow next to her and sighed. To be fair, he didn’t make such a promise. He didn’t say anything at all.

Putting her disappointment aside, she prepared herself for one of the most exhausting whirlwinds one could face: the loving care of Molly Weasley.

Sitting up with her back against the headboard, she stretched her neck to the side and had to do a double take at the nightstand.

A pink flower with orange undertones sat beside a piece of paper that was folded in half. Her stomach flipped, and she considered forgiving him for leaving.

A snapdragon for the strongest of flowers.

I hope this wasn’t a one-time thing. Owl me.

“Oh, shut up!” Kate whispered, but a chuckle escaped her mouth, anyway.

Movement on the other side of the door startled her, and she hid the note under the pillow before quickly hiding herself behind the covers.

The doorknob turned, and Mrs Weasley entered the room.

“Oh, thank Godric you are alright!” Molly was by her side in four long strides and cradled Kate’s head in her hands. “How are you feeling? Charles told me you woke up last night. You look pale. Did you rest?”

“Yes, Mrs Weasley, I’m fine. My head is spinning a little, though.”

“Of course, of course, let me see that arm.”

Internally complaining, Kate let her put the cream on her arm and tend the bruises of her neck. She didn’t have the courage to tell her that wouldn’t make the scar disappear. When she finished, Molly nodded with a satisfied smile and proceeded to pick up the clothes that were scattered on the floor. Kate held her breath during the entire the process.

“This boy... tsk... taught him better than this! At least he could have brought his clothes with him…” Kate wasn’t sure if she was oblivious or if she was giving them a green card because they weren’t at The Burrow. In any case, she felt the need to take Charlie off the hook.

“I’m sorry, that’s my fault, Charlie let me use his clothes after I showered and when I went to sleep... they were bothering me.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. She gestured her neck to point at her bruises and then remembered that maybe there were ones more recent, that she did not want to explain. Charlie had never left a mark on her, but that night he felt a tad possessive and she wasn’t sure he could be trusted.

Although Molly hadn’t commented on them while she was applying the cream, the younger witch rested her hand there, trying to appear casual. Just in case.

“Ah, don’t worry, dear.” Molly waved her free hand nonchalantly and went to pick her cloak from the floor. While putting on the robe that Charlie had left at the end of the bed, Kate remembered that she technically stole the uniform band.

“Oh, this is warm! What a nice coat!” She waved the magically warmed piece of clothing, admiring it, and something the size of a matchbox flew across the room in doing so. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I always check the pockets and now look at this!” She murmured something under her breath and went to pick up the mysterious object, but Kate interrupted her.

“I’ll get it, don’t worry.”

“Very well, then. I made you some breakfast, but it’s already cold, Charlie made me swear I would let you sleep in!” She laughed and when she was crossing the threshold, she added, “Arthur got your trunk, it’s downs… ah!”

Mr Weasley appeared from behind her with a smile on his face and his hands on her waist.

“Oh, not you too, Arthur, I have enough with your sons apparating everywhere…”

His husband ignored her with a laugh and entered the room, her trunk following him in the air.

“Special delivery!” He roared.

“Thank you so much, Mr Weasley.” He approached Kate, and after hugging her shoulders with an arm, he kissed the top of her head. “You scared us the other day, eh?” He squeezed her. “But, let’s thank Godric you are safe and sound! I must go to work now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“I’m fine, really. We healers recover quickly. Tonks filled me in, and I’m feeling alright.”

“Alright, then. I’ll let you change.” Molly placed a hand on her own cheek for a moment and left the room without another word.

The moment Mrs Weasley closed the door behind her, Kate spooned around and crawled down the wooden desk to retrieve the small object.

Placing it on her palm, she murmured ‘engorgio’, making the tiny leather journal grow to its original size.

Letters, maps, notes, names, drawings, and a full research on how to magically cross plant species were contained in that notebook. The past six months were portrayed in those pieces of paper, and their value was incalculable.

Looking up, she faced one of the obscure paintings that belonged to the Black family. Kate stared at a woman standing on a bridge in what appeared to be a forest, and a question formed in her mind. She needed to go to St. Mungo’s.

Convincing Molly that she could go alone to the hospital was harder than the mission she just came from. After a diluted Invigoration Draught and some help from Lupin, she managed to step out of Grimmauld Place.

She didn’t feel ready to apparate, and she doubted she would ever be, so she enjoyed her walk through the streets of the city. With the muggle money that Lupin gave her, she jumped on the first underground station she saw and followed his directions.

She got comfortable on an empty seat and observed the people on the train car. When she saw a couple getting handsy in a corner, a wave of sadness washed over her, and had to look away.

She missed Charlie terribly. The night before was too desperate and rushed, she didn’t have time to savour the moment. She didn’t even ask him about his mission with the giants, about his dragons, or about how he felt all that time alone at home. Being on a mission kept her head occupied for most of the time, but now, with nothing to do, she anticipated some time of loneliness.

She brought her hand to her chest, and her heart ached even more when she couldn’t find the necklace that Charlie had gifted her many years before. No. Stop it. You’ll get answers and study your notes and then... and then you will have to explain to Dumbledore you lost an important document that could have saved lives. Brilliant.

Soft clapping noises brought her back to reality. A woman in front of her was struggling to hold an excited baby on her lap. Kate observed the child and smiled when his little finger touched her mother’s nose. The baby turned his head and stared at Kate for a while before raising his arm to wave at her. She chuckled and returned the greeting, her trip improving slightly and temporarily.

Walking through St Mungo’s doors had a mixed effect of nostalgia and excitement. She had spent many hours in that hospital studying, training, and learning, and all of a sudden, she was fresh out of Hogwarts again, with all the emotions that implied. Taking a deep breath, she walked through the corridor and started searching for her first mentor and boss, Madame Louise.

She scanned the faces of the healers that were working, rapidly treating the patients like frantic ants recollecting their food.

“Williams?” Kate turned at the deep voice calling her and recognised the robust middle-aged woman in front of her. “What brings you here? I thought you were working in Romania?”

“Hello, Madame Louise, yes, well I was… working there. But I’m here as a patient today.”

Madame Louise frowned and looked at Kate up and down before giving a curt nod.

“Wait on that bed.” She said before turning and walking away.

Kate sat as directed and stared at the beautiful glass stained windows of the place.

“I request you let me go right now! This is nonsense.” She could recognise that firm voice anywhere. To her right Professor McGonagall was lying on one of the beds and arguing with a boy that Kate figured he was wishing he hadn’t been born.

She walked towards them and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’ll take it from here, thank you.”

“Who are you? You are not a healer; Madame Louise will hear about this.”

“Mister, this young woman knows more than you, do us all a favour and go with your mother.” Intervened McGonagall.

“I heard Jared O’Leary was looking for you.” The boy shifted in his place and nodded nervously before leaving them alone.

“Professor, what happened?” Kate’s healer mode activated and started scanning McGonagall for injuries and signals of distress.

“Oh, Williams, a lot is been happening this past year. I can imagine you’ve been informed?”

“Vaguely. I arrived two days ago from…”

“I know.”

Kate grabbed the file at the foot of the bed and read the report on McGonagall’s state.

“Four stunning spells to the chest?” She looked up and asked with her eyes, but her professor wasn’t in a mood for a talk.

“Williams, I must get out of here and go back to Hogwarts. I’m afraid it’s going to be too late by the time they let me go.”

“Professor, you could faint just by… too late for what?”

“Williams!” Madame Louise motioned her to come closer. Kate hesitated, but followed the mediwizard to a quieter space. “What happens to be the problem?”

“I’ve been poisoned two days ago.”

“In that case you should have come earlier, don’t you think?”

“There’s been… complications. I wanted to ask you if it’s possible to poison someone without using a vial or a potion or, I don’t know, food or drinks.”

The woman hummed and crossed her arms in front of her. “That’s rather strange.”

“Is this…” Kate moved the collar of the shirt to the side, revealing the red marks that hadn’t disappeared yet. “… a possible way?”

Louise grabbed the glasses that were hanging by a chain around her neck and placed them on the tip of her nose to inspect the injuries.

“The poison could have been injected with some kind of needle, but the shape of these marks means claws or… nails.”

She took her glasses off and waved them while talking. “I imagine it is possible, but you must have a very twisted mind to carry around poison in your nails. Also, you need to be very careful, a bad placement of the poison can cause yourself to get ill. In what kind of troubles are you getting into, Williams?”

“It’s a story for another day.”

“Madame Louise, I can’t find Jared O’Leary…” The boy that was treating McGonagall appeared from behind Kate.

“What are you talking about? Go back to work! Naturally, you can’t find him. He doesn’t work here anymore!”

“But she…”

“Is every patient cured, Mr Boyle?” Kate slid away from the conversation to where Professor McGonagall was resting.

“I suddenly feel tired…”

Kate nodded and checked that the potions on her nightstand were filled and in order. A hand grabbed her wrist, and she turned to look at McGonagall.

“Katherine. You must find Potter. Something terrible is about to happen.”

Kate frowned and got closer to her former professor’s face.

“The Ministry. Try the Ministry,” she whispered.

Kate didn’t think twice. She ran all she could to the underground station, receiving some odd glances from the surrounding people.

When she arrived at the Ministry stop, she could sense the commotion even from the muggles that were passing by.

“A gas leak.” She heard while climbing up the mechanic stairs. Some people complained at her rudeness, but she couldn’t stop and apologise at the moment.

“There’s the press. Those vultures. It was probably a problem with plumbing. Look! The water reached the first floor!” A man said.

Kate tried to walk among the curious souls that were conglomerated around the building and recognised the protection bubble that was forming around it. She slid under it with ease.

“But I heard an explosion! I’m telling you!” a woman said to a journalist.

She tried to enter the building, but what seemed to be an auror stopped her.

“Let me in! I’m a healer!”

The man remained stoic and grabbed her arm.

“Identification?”

“I… I don’t have it right now but…”

“You can’t go in, Miss” She tried to get rid of him and she almost succeeded, but when the doors to the Ministry opened, she stopped the struggle. Four aurors walked out the building protecting several figures that walked behind them. She tried to reach them, but the security guard grabbed her again.

“You are the cursed girl! Daily Prophet here! Are you involved in the accident? How do you think your father will react to this? How do you think this is connected to your brother?”

“I’m not…” dumbfounded by the flash of a camera, she tried to escape from the journalists.

“Miss Williams! Miss Williams! What can you tell us about the person who died?”

She couldn’t hear anything, see anything, someone pushed her, and she felt another flash of a camera. Her head was spinning.

Cornelius Fudge stepped out of the building and pointed his wand at his neck. He cleared his throat and all the attention was directed at him.

“It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord… well, you know who I mean… is alive and among us again.”

[Epilogue]

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#charlie weasley #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x ofc #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley/mc #charlie weasley/ofc #durmstrang #kate williams #hphm #hphm fanfiction

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kookie-doughs · 4 years ago

Text

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 18: High-Key Want A Three-Headed Dog

We stood in the shadows of Valencia Boulevard, looking up at gold letters etched in black marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS.

Underneath, stenciled on the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING.

It was almost midnight, but the lobby was brightly lit and full of people. Behind the security desk sat a tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.

I turned to my friends. "Okay. You remember the plan."

"The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan."

Annabeth said, "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"

"Don't think negative." Percy said.

"Right," she said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negative."

Percy took the pearls out of his pocket, the three milky spheres the Nereid had given us in Santa Monica. They didn't seem like much of a backup in case something went wrong. I had mine mixed up in there in case mine was rigged, Percy insisted upon it.

Annabeth put her hand on Percy's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Percy. You're right, we'll make it. It'll be fine."

She gave Grover a nudge.

"Oh, right!" he chimed in. "We got this far. We'll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem."

"Don't worry Percy. We'll do this."

He looked at us, and smiled.

He slipped the pearls back in his pocket. "Let's whup some Underworld butt."

We walked inside the DOA lobby.

Muzak played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were steel gray. Pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, and every seat was taken. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out the windows or waiting for the elevator. Nobody moved, or talked, or did much of anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see them all just fine, but if I focused on any one of them in particular, they started looking... transparent. I could see right through their bodies.

The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so we had to look up at him.

He was tall and elegant, with chocolate-colored skin and bleached-blond hair shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.

Percy read the name tag, then looked at him in bewilderment. "Your name is Chiron?"

He leaned across the desk. I couldn't see anything in his glasses except my own reflection, but his smile was sweet and cold, like a pythons, right before it eats you.

"What a precious young lad." He had a strange accent—British, maybe, but also as if he had learned English as a second language. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"

"N-no."

"Sir," he added smoothly.

"Sir," Percy said.

He pinched the name tag and ran his finger under the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-R-O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON."

"Charon."

"Amazing! Now: Mr. Charon."

"Mr. Charon," I said.

"Well done." He sat back. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"

Percy looked at me for support.

"We want to go the Underworld," I said.

Charon's mouth twitched. "Well, that's refreshing."

"It is?" I asked.

"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No 'There must be a mistake, Mr. Charon.'" He looked us over. "How did you die, then?"

I nudged Grover.

"Oh," he said. "Um... drowned... in the bathtub."

"All four of you?" Charon asked. We nodded. I could see Annabeth wanted to face palm.

"Big bathtub." Charon looked mildly impressed. "I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children... alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."

"Oh, but we have coins." Annabeth set three golden drachmas on the counter, part of the stash we'd found in Crusty's office desk.

"Well, now..." Charon moistened his lips. "Real drachmas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in..."

His fingers hovered greedily over the coins.

We were so close.

Then Charon looked at Percy. That cold stare behind his glasses seemed to bore a hole through his chest. "Here now," he said. "You couldn't read my name correctly. Are you dyslexic, lad?"

"No," Percy said. "I'm dead."

Charon leaned forward and took a sniff. "You're not dead. I should've known. You're a godling."

"We have to get to the Underworld," Annabeth insisted.

Charon made a growling sound deep in his throat.

Immediately, all the people in the waiting room got up and started pacing, agitated, lighting cigarettes, running hands through their hair, or checking their wristwatches.

"Leave while you can," Charon told us. "I'll just take these and forget I saw you."

He started to go for the coins, but I snatched them back.

"No service, no tip." I said staring at him.

Charon growled again—a deep, blood-chilling sound. The spirits of the dead started pounding on the elevator doors.

"It's a shame, too," I sighed. "We had more to offer."

I held up the entire bag from Crusty's stash. I took out a fistful of drachmas and let the coins spill through my fingers.

Charon's growl changed into something more like a lion's purr. "Do you think I can be bought, godling? Eh... just out of curiosity, how much have you got there?"

"A lot," I said. "I bet Hades doesn't pay you well enough for such hard work."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always 'Please don't let me be dead' or 'Please let me across for free.' I haven't had a pay raise in three thousand years. Do you imagine suits like this come cheap?"

"You deserve better," I agreed. "A little appreciation. Respect. Good pay."

With each word, I stacked another gold coin on the counter.

Charon glanced down at his silk Italian jacket, as if imagining himself in something even better. "I must say, lad, you're making some sense now. Just a little."

I stacked another few coins. "I could mention a pay raise while I'm talking to Hades."

He sighed. "The boat's almost full, anyway. I might as well add you three and be off."

He stood, scooped up our money, and said, "Come along."

We pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who started grabbing at our clothes like the wind, their voices whispering things I couldn't make out. Charon shoved them out of the way, grumbling, "Freeloaders."

He escorted us into the elevator, which was already crowded with souls of the dead, each one holding a green boarding pass. Charon grabbed two spirits who were trying to get on with us and pushed them back into the lobby.

"Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone," he announced to the waiting room. "And if anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understand?"

He shut the doors. He put a key card into a slot in the elevator panel and we started to descend.

"What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" Annabeth asked.

"Nothing," Charon said.

"For how long?"

"Forever, or until I'm feeling generous."

"Oh," she said. "That's... fair."

Charon raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said death was fair, young miss? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going."

"We'll get out alive," Percy said.

"Ha."

I could feel we weren't going down anymore, but forward. The air turned misty. Spirits around me started changing shape. Their modern clothes flickered, turning into gray hooded robes. The floor of the elevator began swaying.

Charon's creamy Italian suit had been replaced by a long black robe. His tortoiseshell glasses were gone. Where his eyes should've been were empty sockets—like Ares's eyes, except Charon's were totally dark, full of night and death and despair.

He saw me looking, and said, "Well?"

"Nothing," I said. "I never knew you could look cool dead."

I thought he was grinning, but that wasn't it. The flesh of his face was becoming transparent, letting me see straight through to his skull.

The floor kept swaying.

Grover said, "I think I'm getting seasick."

When I blinked again, the elevator wasn't an elevator anymore. We were standing in a wooden barge. Charon was poling us across a dark, oily river, swirling with bones, dead fish, and other, stranger things—plastic dolls, crushed carnations, soggy diplomas with gilt edges.

"The River Styx," Annabeth murmured. "It's so..."

"Polluted," Charon said. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across—hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."

Mist curled off the filthy water. Above us, almost lost in the gloom, was a ceiling of stalactites. Ahead, the far shore glimmered with greenish light, the color of poison.

Panic closed up my throat. What was I doing here? These people around me... they were dead.

Percy grabbed hold of my hand. Annabeth took my other free one. I knew she wanted reassurance that somebody else was alive on this boat.

I could hear Percy muttering a prayer, though I wasn't quite sure who I was praying to. Down here, only one god mattered, and he was the one we had come to confront.

The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about a hundred yards to the base of a high stone wall, which marched off in either direction as far as we could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stones—the howl of a large animal.

"Old Three-Face is hungry," Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the greenish light. "Bad luck for you, godlings."

The bottom of our boat slid onto the black sand. The dead began to disembark. A woman holding a little girl's hand. An old man and an old woman hobbling along arm in arm. A boy no older than I was, shuffling silently along in his gray robe.

Charon said, "I'd wish you luck, mate, but there isn't any down here. Mind you, don't forget to mention my pay raise."

He counted our golden coins into his pouch, then took up his pole. He warbled something that sounded like a Barry Manilow song as he ferried the empty barge back across the river.

We followed the spirits up a well-worn path.

I'm not sure what I was expecting—Pearly Gates, or a big black portcullis, or something. But the entrance to the Underworld looked like a cross between airport security and the Jersey Turnpike.

There were three separate entrances under one huge black archway that said YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a pass-through metal detector with security cameras mounted on top. Beyond this were tollbooths manned by black-robed ghouls like Charon.

The howling of the hungry animal was really loud now, but I couldn't see where it was coming from. The three-headed dog, Cerberus, who was supposed to guard Hades's door, was nowhere to be seen.

The dead queued up in the three lines, two marked ATTENDANT ON DUTY, and one marked EZ DEATH. The EZ DEATH line was moving right along. The other two were crawling.

"What do you figure?" Percy asked Annabeth.

"The fast line must go straight to the Asphodel Fields," she said. "No contest. They don't want to risk judgment from the court, because it might go against them."

"There's a court for dead people?"

"Yeah. Three judges. They switch around who sits on the bench. King Minos, Thomas Jefferson, Shakespeare—people like that. Sometimes they look at a life and decide that person needs a special reward—the Fields of Elysium. Sometimes they decide on punishment. But most people, well, they just lived. Nothing special, good or bad. So they go to the Asphodel Fields."

"And do what?"

Grover said, "Imagine standing in a wheat field in Kansas. Forever."

"Harsh," Percy said.

"Not as harsh as that," Grover muttered. "Look."

A couple of black-robbed ghouls had pulled aside one spirit and were frisking him at the security desk. The face of the dead man looked vaguely familiar.

"He's that preacher who made the news, remember?" Grover asked.

"Oh, yeah." Percy said. "We'd seen him on TV a couple of times at the Yancy Academy dorm. He was this annoying televangelist from upstate New York who'd raised millions of dollars for orphanages and then got caught spending the money on stuff for his mansion, like gold-plated toilet seats, and an indoor putt-putt golf course. He'd died in a police chase when his "Lamborghini for the Lord" went off a cliff."

"Humans." I said rolling my eyes, "What're they doing to him?"

"Special punishment from Hades," Grover guessed. "The really bad people get his personal attention as soon as they arrive. The Fur—the Kindly Ones will set up an eternal torture for him."

The thought of the Furies made me shudder. I realized I was in their home territory now. Old Mrs. Dodds and Mrs . Rudolph would be licking her lips with anticipation.

"But if he's a preacher," Percy said, "and he believes in a different hell... ."

Grover shrugged. "Who says he's seeing this place the way we're seeing it? Humans see what they want to see. You're very stubborn—er, persistent, that way."

We got closer to the gates. The howling was so loud now it shook the ground at my feet, about fifty feet in front of us, standing just where the path split into three lanes was an enormous shadowy monster.

My jaw hung open. All I could think to say was, "He's a Rottweiler."

I'd always imagined Cerberus as a big black mastiff. But he was obviously a purebred Rottweiler, except of course that he was twice the size of a woolly mammoth, and had three heads.

"I thought he would've been a mastiff."

"Same..."

The dead walked right up to him—no fear at all. The ATTENDANT ON DUTY lines parted on either side of him. The EZ DEATH spirits walked right between his front paws and under his belly, which they could do without even crouching.

"I'm starting to see him better," Percy muttered. "Why is that?"

"I think ..." Annabeth moistened her lips. "I'm afraid it's because we're getting closer to being dead."

The dog's middle head craned toward us. It sniffed the air and growled.

"It can smell the living," I said.

"But that's okay," Grover said, trembling next to Percy. "Because we have a plan."

"Right," Annabeth said. I'd never heard her voice sound quite so small. "A plan."

We moved toward the monster.

The middle head snarled at us, then barked so loud my eyeballs rattled.

"Can you understand it?" I asked Grover.

"Oh yeah," he said. "I can understand it."

"What's it saying?"

"I don't think humans have a four-letter word that translates, exactly."

Percy took the big stick out of his backpack—a bedpost we'd broken off Crusty's Safari Deluxe floor model. He held it up, and tried to channel happy dog thoughts toward Cerberus—Alpo commercials, cute little puppies, fire hydrants.

"Hey, Big Fella," He called up. "I bet they don't play with you much."

"GROWWWLLLL!"

"Good boy," he said weakly.

Percy waved the stick. The dog's middle head followed the movement. The other two heads trained their eyes on Percy, completely ignoring the spirits. Percy had Cerberus's undivided attention. I wasn't sure that was a good thing.

"Fetch!" I threw the stick into the gloom, a good solid throw. I heard it go ker-sploosh in the River Styx.

Cerberus glared at me, unimpressed. His eyes were baleful and cold.

So much for the plan.

Cerberus was now making a new kind of growl, deeper down in his three throats.

"Um," Grover said. "Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"I just thought you'd want to know."

"Yeah?"

"Cerberus? He's saying we've got ten seconds to pray to the god of our choice. After that... well... he's hungry."

"Wait!" Annabeth said. She started rifling through her pack.

"Five seconds," Grover said. "Do we run now?"

Annabeth produced a red rubber ball the size of a grapefruit. It was labeled WATERLAND, DENVER, CO. Before I could stop her, she raised the ball and marched straight up to Cerberus.

She shouted, "See the ball? You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!"

Cerberus looked as stunned as we were.

All three of his heads cocked sideways. Six nostrils dilated.

"Sit!" Annabeth called again.

I don't know why but petting this gigantic three headed dog would have made my bucket list complete. I walked up to Annabeth with Percy and Grover panicking behind.

"I want to pet him. Cerberus sit!"

"Sit!" Annabeth yelled.

Cerberus licked his three sets of lips, shifted on his haunches, and sat, immediately crushing a dozen spirits who'd been passing underneath him in the EZ DEATH line. The spirits made muffled hisses as they dissipated, like the air let out of tires.

I said, "Good boy!"

Annabeth threw Cerberus the ball.

He caught it in his middle mouth. It was barely big enough for him to chew, and the other heads started snapping at the middle, trying to get the new toy.

"Drop it.'" I ordered.

Cerberus's heads stopped fighting and looked at me. The ball was wedged between two of his teeth like a tiny piece of gum. He made a loud, scary whimper, then dropped the ball, now slimy and bitten nearly in half, at Annabeth's feet.

"Good boy." She picked up the ball, ignoring the monster spit all over it.

She turned toward the two. "Go now. EZ DEATH line—it's faster."

Percy said, "But—"

"Now.'" She ordered, in the same tone she was using on the dog.

"You should go too. I wouldn't mind."

"How are you sure he'll follow you?" Annabeth laughed.

"I had a dog you know. Real sweetheart. Pretty sure he'll be as cute."

Grover and Percy inched forward warily.

Cerberus started to growl.

"Stay!" Annabeth ordered the monster. "If you want the ball, stay!"

Cerberus whimpered, but he stayed where he was.

"What about you guys?" Percy asked us as we passed her.

Annabeth looked at me and nodded. "Y/N wants to pet him," she muttered. "I think she can handle him."

Grover, Annabeth and Percy walked between the Cerberus's legs.

I was tempted to make Cerberus sit to be honest.

When made it through. I said, "Good dog!"

I held up the tattered red ball. The ball was tattered and this is going to be the last trick.

"Cerberus, could you get closer to me?" I called hesitantly. All three heads leaned down.

Oh gods... Oh gods... I'm going to pet him... I reluctantly touched his head. His head leaned to my touch. "Good boy." I cooed petting each his head. He whimpered on my touch. "Okay boy." I leaned my head against his middle one.

I threw the ball. The good boy's left mouth immediately snatched it up, only to be attacked by the middle head, while the right head moaned in protest.

While the monster was distracted, I walked under its belly and joined us at the metal detector.

"Bucket list solved." Annabeth and I fist bumped.

"How did you do that?" Percy looked at Annabeth and I, amazed.

"Obedience school," Annabeth said breathlessly, "When I was little, at my dad's house, we had a Doberman... ."

"I had D/N you knew that." I was surprised to see there were tears in her eyes. "I promise I'll play again!"

"Never mind that," Grover said, tugging at Percy's shirt. "Come on!"

We were about to bolt through the EZ DEATH line when Cerberus moaned pitifully from all three mouths. Annabeth and I stopped.

We turned to face the cutie which had done a one-eighty to look at us.

Cerberus panted expectantly, the tiny red ball in pieces in a puddle of drool at its feet.

"Good boy," Annabeth said, but her voice sounded melancholy and uncertain.

The monster's heads turned sideways, as if worried.

"I'll bring you another ball soon," Annabeth promised faintly. "Would you like that?"

The monster whimpered. I didn't need to speak dog to know Cerberus was still waiting for the ball.

"Good dog. I'll come visit you soon. I promise we'll come back." I turned to the others. "Let's go."

Grover and Percy pushed through the metal detector, which immediately screamed and set off flashing red lights. "Unauthorized possessions! Magic detected!"

Cerberus started to bark.

We burst through the EZ DEATH gate, which started even more alarms blaring, and raced into the Underworld.

A few minutes later, we were hiding, out of breath, in the rotten trunk of an immense black tree as security ghouls scuttled past, yelling for backup from the Furies.

Grover murmured, "Well, Percy, what have we learned today?"

"That three-headed dogs prefer red rubber balls over sticks?"

"No," Grover told me. "We've learned that your plans really, really bite!"

I wasn't sure about that. I thought maybe Annabeth and I had both had the right idea. Even here in the Underworld, everybody—even monsters—needed a little attention once in a while.

I thought about that as we waited for the ghouls to pass. I pulled Annabeth closer as she wipe a tear from her cheek as we listened to the mournful keening of Cerberus in the distance,.

"We'll come back..."

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#Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson X Reader #Percy Jackson X Y/N #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan #Luke castellan x reader #Y/N L/N #Y/N L/N and the halfbloods #x y/n #x reader #fanfictions #Lightning thief #Chapter 18 #Book 1

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untaemedqueen · 5 years ago

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The Bird Cage

Chapter 17.

Warnings: Blood, Guns, Knives, Smoking (Cigarettes)

Tag-List: @imaforeigner, @q1st1na, @gensneverland, @autumnnflowers, @toddsgirl27, @yaniposts22, @babyboytae1, @dearlydreadful, @vivpurple7, @kthfeed, @probably-trying-too-hard, @si-deus-me-hanyu-senshu, @bts-chub, @ayyyocee, @taeslittletiger, @yeonkiminfr, @topthis808, @xcharlottemikaelsonx,

"Hi, baby." Jimin says softly as you wake up from your nap. You were in a constant state of drowsiness with all of the medicine you had been fed for the last month and a half. Jeongguk has told you how well you were healing but Jimin wanted a real professional opinion. You weren't in as much pain anymore and the constant doting of Jimin was nice. He didn't leave your side for a minute, which was pretty impressive seeing as how he began pay back to the Jungs almost immediately after finding out it was Four.

"Doctor Song is here for you, okay baby? He's going to check out your back and give you a check up to make sure you're okay. He's very good at his job, he's the head director of Park Hospital that we own in Seoul." You hum in response as you lift your neck to look at him. Doctor Song was an older man, maybe in his late 70's. Who had wisdom etched all over his face as he takes off his glasses. Jimin pulls out a wad of Won from his pocket before handing it to Doctor Song and sitting on the opposite end of the bed. Doctor Song bows his head to Jimin before putting his glasses in his shirt pocket.

"How have you been feeling?" His tender touch on your back makes you grit your teeth.

"I was feeling nothing but numbness until yesterday." The bruising around the now closed gash was yellow and brown. Doctor Song nods before opening up his briefcase.

"I have cream here, for you. It's a numbing cream, Mr. Park can apply it for you three times a day. It'll take the pain away for a while. The cut looks closed well, your back looks like it's healing nicely." He hums to himself finitely as he pulls away.

"I would like to do a blood sample, if you're comfortable with that. Can I help you sit up?" You only got up when you needed to use the bathroom and every time so far it has been a scorching hot pain.

"I'll help her." Jimin says rounding the bed and pushing back his hair. He holds your arm as your legs shake to support yourself.

"Very good." Doctor Song says quietly as he pulls out his supplies. You whimper as Jimin helps you sit up slowly. His lips kissing your forehead as you slowly swing your legs over the bed's edge.

"Even though it may hurt, you should start walking around. You need to get blood flow to your legs." You nod to the Doctor as Jimin grabs him a chair and dutifully placing it in front of you. Jimin stands behind the chair, his arms folded as he looks at you with sorry eyes. His hand rubbing at his face as he watches you take a deep breath as Doctor Song wraps the stretching band around your arm pulling it tightly to show your veins. The amount of 'Sorrys' Jimin has said throughout the past month makes you feel guilty. He loves you so much and you felt like you were hindering him from being hurt.

"How have you been feeling?"

"Queasy but I think it's the medication." You tell Doctor Song who nods in response.

"That can happen if you take it on an empty stomach."

"I'll make sure she eats more." Jimin says brushing his hands through his hair. You stare at him before whining as Doctor Song begins to draw blood. He sits down next to you quickly before kissing your cheek.

"Hold my hand." He says sweetly and you do as told as Doctor Song looks over your body. He raises an eyebrow before changing vials.

"After this I would like you to stand up for me so I can check how your limbs and body are doing." He mumbles before grabbing a cotton ball and pressing it against your inner elbow before pulling out the needle. Jimin stands up quickly, without a word before helping you up slowly.

"I love you." He whispers in your ear, you smile at him before groaning in pain. He closes his eyes, guilt taking over his mind as you stand on shaky legs.

"Okay. Let's see." Doctor Song says with a clap.

"May I?" You nod before looking at Jimin confused as Doctor Song puts his hands on your stomach pressing your womb underneath your robe. His face was like stone, you couldn't read anything from him. Which in a way, it was probably a good thing if he had to give a patient some bad news. His hands reach up and touch your breasts and your cheeks begin to flush pink.

"Is that necessary?" Jimin asks with a scoff, angry veins beginning to show on his neck as Doctor Song pulls away from you.

"Alright. Can I ask you for a urine sample, Mrs. Park?" He hands you the small cup and you shrug as Jimin helps you walk over to the en suite bathroom.

"Mrs. Park." You mumble as Jimin helps you sit on the toilet lifting your robe.

"Sounds good, doesn't it?" He asks with a smile. After three weeks ago you signed the documents for marital status, Lee Hyunah understood the trauma you went through and told you not to rush yourself but you wanted to abide by the rules for the contract. Jimin had begun to over see the forming of your business openly. Hyunah becoming a very regular guest in your home and Yoongi's bedroom.

"It does." You agree as you fill up the cup. Jimin sits down on the stone bench near the sink watching you as you close your eyes.

"Fuck, seeing you like this is tearing my heart to shreds." You look over at him and give him a gentle smile before grabbing toilet paper.

"I'll be good as new soon. Don't worry." Jimin rushes to help you stand up before sighing.

"My precious Kitten." He mutters before kissing your cheek. You screw the lid on the urine sample cup before making a grossed out face and washing it underneath the faucet. Jimin chuckles before helping you back out to the bedroom fixing your robe. Doctor Song smiles at you before putting the sample in his briefcase.

"That will be all for now, I will call you with the results of your blood sample." Jimin helps you sit down before bowing to Doctor Song.

"Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to come see us." Doctor shakes his head before pointing at the door.

"Mr. Park will you see me out?"

"I should stay with my wife." Jimin says caressing your cheek.

"I must insist." Doctor Song says before bowing to you. You nod your head to him before looking up at Jimin.

"Go. I'm fine." Jimin takes a deep inhale through his nose before licking his lips and nodding.

"I'll be right back, okay? Don't move." You hum in agreement as Jimin shows Doctor Song out of the bedroom.

Doctor Song stands in front of his car before placing his briefcase in the driver's seat.

"Mr. Park, I have some news I think you should know." Jimin leans against the doctor's car raising an eyebrow.

"Is my wife okay?" Doctor Song nods with a smile.

"She's alright, better than alright, actually. When I checked her breasts-" Jimin scoffs pushing off of the car.

"Was that even necessary?!" Hot tempered lion was crawling out of his den at a steady pace.

"I believe it was, yes. Because, your Y/N is pregnant." Jimin sticks his neck out to hear the doctor better.

"Yeh? Come again?"

"She's pregnant. Or seems to be anyway. Her womb is hardened and her breasts are swelling and hardening as well." Jimin falters gripping onto the hood of the car. Doctor Song steadies him with a chuckle.

"I'll run the blood tests and the urine sample to be sure but, I've been doing this a long time." Jimin cards his fingers through his hair before closing his eyes.

"Well how far along is she?" Doctor Song shakes his head.

"I wouldn't know till I get a sonogram on her. But, her womb is swollen, if you touch it you'll feel it." Jimin nods before putting his hand to his forehead.

"She shouldn't take any more painkillers, no drinking, no eating raw fish, meat or eggs." Jimin opens his eyes before staring at the clear blue sky.

"Mr. Park?"

"Yeah. Yeah I hear you. I got it. Call me when you find out the results." Doctor Song nods to Jimin before squeezing his shoulder.

"Congratulations." Doctor Song moves his briefcase over as he gets in the car. Jimin scoffs loudly as his mind replays the single word. Pregnant. You were pregnant with his child. His legacy in your womb at this very second. Growing strong to meet the world. The car backs out of the long drive way as Jimin falls off balance. He sits on the ground before sputtering into a giddy laughter putting his head back before pointing at the sky.

"You know how to play with a mans heart strings. Don't you?" He calls out to the heavens before laying back on the rocky ground. "Fucking pregnant."

Jimin enters the house, "Mirae!" He calls loudly before hearing feet slamming up the winding staircase in the kitchen. She appears in seconds fixing her bun.

"Make me a really strong martini please. Really strong."

"Yes, Sir." How was Jimin going to tell you that you were pregnant? Would you be happy? Happy like he is right now? He was happy, but he was pitifully nervous. His stomach sitting under his feet as he walks up the right staircase. His feet drag slowly as he ascends. He can recall every sexual encounter from almost two months ago. There could have been many opportunities for you to get pregnant. He steps onto the second floor before shuffling over to Jeongguk's room and opening the door with a knock. Jeongguk cocks his gun surprised as he sits up on his queen bed.

"Aish! Hyung!" He whines putting his hand over his heart. Jimin leaves the door wide open for Mirae as he throws himself into Jeongguk's armchair.

"What if I had a girl in here or something?" Jimin looks at him incredulously as he slouches in the chair.

"You've seen me fucking my wife before, it's nothing new." Jeongguk gives Jimin a bunny smile as he calls you his wife. Jeongguk stares at Jimin before raising an eyebrow.

"Why do you look like someone shot your dog in the face?" Guk asks tilting his head. Jimin can only laugh as Mirae enters with his martini.

"Thank you, you impeccable woman." Jimin says gratefully before downing the whole martini in once shot making Mirae and Jeongguk raise their eyebrows. He hands Mirae back the glass before sighing.

"Mirae, you know Y/N's old bedroom?" She nods as Jimin looks up at her.

"Sterilize it and take everything out of it."

"Sir?" Jimin smacks his thighs before looking up at the ceiling.

"We have to make a nursery." "YEH?!" Jeongguk yells widening his doe eyes. Jimin begins to laugh maniacally before pointing at himself.

"I'm going to be a dad." Mirae smiles before nodding.

"Yes, Sir. Congratulations!" Jimin puts his hands over his face as Jeongguk jumps at him with a hug.

"Oh my God!" Jimin pats Jeongguk's back before putting his forehead to Jeongguk's muscled shoulder.

"A dad." He mumbles to himself as Mirae leaves the room closing the door behind her.

"What did Y/N say?! I have to go congratulate her!" Jimin grips Jeongguk tighter as he tries to pull away.

"She doesn't know, yet. Doctor Song just told me." Jeongguk pulls away before clapping happily.

"I just needed to tell someone. My mind is going a mile a minute." Jimin sits up putting his elbows on his knees.

"Can you fucking believe that? A year ago I was going to kill myself and now I have a wife and a baby on the way." He scoffs shaking his head in amazement. Jeongguk flinches at the memory of Jimin's attempt at suicide.

"I think Y/N is going to be so excited." Jeongguk says matter-of-factly to his older brother. Jimin hums.

"Maybe or she'll kill me for getting her knocked up when she isn't ready." He was nervous to tell you. Would you be mad at him? Hate him for getting you pregnant before you've both discussed it. Be furious that you were having a mafia boss' baby? A known killer and gun runner's child within you?

"When are you going to tell her?" Jimin puts his hand over his mouth as he peels skin off his lips in anxiousness.

"When Doctor Song calls me and tells me that the urine samples have tested positive." Jeongguk nods opening his mouth understanding.

"Let me go see my pregnant wife." Jimin says before standing up with a sigh.

"Good luck, hyung! Congratulations!" Jeongguk shakes his fists cutely at Jimin making him chuckle.

"Thanks, Guk. Thanks for listening." Jeongguk hums before laying back down.

Jimin steps into your bedroom and you look up at him, "Where'd you go? To London?" You ask with a laugh as Jimin stares at you closing the bedroom door. He gives you a small smile as you grab the bedpost standing up.

"Be careful!" He says quickly jogging over to help you stand.

"I feel queasy." You whisper to him as you put your forehead to his shoulder. It's morning sickness. Jimin bites his bottom lip nervously before rubbing your arm.

"Just take deep breaths, I'll tell Mirae to get you some ginger tea." He swings the door open before stopping his voice as he goes to call Mirae. If she comes in here, she'll probably congratulate you for something you don't even know yet.

"TWO!" Jimin yells loudly.

"Sir!" He hears in the distance.

"GINGER TEA!" She calls back acknowledging him as he shuts the door. He watches you lean against the bedpost, Jimin not knowing where to look as you take deep breaths.

"I miss holding you tightly." You tell him, making him smile.

"I miss it too, soon baby. Soon." He wants to see your belly, have his hand on his child but he can't bring himself to do it. His thighs begin to tremor as he leans against the door. You were his wife now, you weren't going anywhere but you could still hate him. Still despise his being for getting you knocked up.

"Are you hungry?" He asks, you were eating for two now. "No but I want a glass of whisky." You tell him pointing to the liquor caddy. Jimin eyes the caddy wearily.

"Drink your tea first. Maybe later you can have some, hmm?" You tilt your head at his soft voice. The softness sounded guilty, guiltier than before.

"What's wrong with you?" You ask nodding to him. Jimin's palms become sweaty as he walks towards you.

"Nothing." He whispers before picking up your chin with his fingers and kissing you softly.

"Nothing at all."

"Park Jimin."

"Park Y/N." Jimin mumbles making you smile.

"I can tell when there's something on your mind, you know that right?" Jimin hums before smiling down at you.

"Wife's intuition?" You nod making him giggle. Jimin looks over at the cream before pulling at your robe.

"Let me put your cream on you." You undo your robe without a second thought as Jimin pushes up his black sweater sleeves. He eyes your stomach secretly before tears prick at his eyes. His eyes stinging as his vision gets blurry. You were showing, already. He didn't have to touch your belly to feel it. He can see it. He knows your body so intimately he can tell how different you look.

"Aish." He mumbles to himself before looking up at the beds canopy.

"What's wrong?" You whine as a tear streaks down his cheek. He sniffs before looking down at you.

"I just really love you." He mumbles before rubbing his hands over your sides. He takes a deep inhale before rubbing his hand over your womb. His eyes screwing shut as he whimpers out. It was different, he could feel how hard your womb was.

"Chim." You mumble confused as he bows his head down as he begins to cry dropping the cream to the floor.

"I fucking love you, you understand me?" You nod as he presses his forehead into the nook of your neck. You comb your hand through his hair as he grips at your sides.

"Oh fuck." He cries louder as three knocks come at the door. He steps back wiping his face before nodding to the bed.

"Lay down." He whispers as you do as told perplexed by his sobs. He picks the lotion up from the floor before throwing the comforter over your legs.

"Come." He tells Two who opens the door gently. She looks at your back before biting her lip and placing the tea down on the table.

"Thank you." She nods her head before leaving, eyeing your healing back. Jimin kneels on the bed before putting the cream on his fingers.

"I love you." You tell him as you crane your neck to look at him. He applies the cream gently before looking into your eyes. He sniffles before nodding, "I love you too baby. So much." Both of you.

Jimin sits in the armchair watching you as you sleep. His index finger running circles around the rim of the glass. You finally could lay on your back after applying the cream. Jimin had thrown away the pain killers shortly after you fell asleep. It was almost two in the morning but he couldn't fall asleep himself. He was too busy thinking about everything he needs to take care of. He sips from his whisky as his phone begins to ring. His eyes darting to the screen as Doctor Song calls him. He picks up the call with a shaky hand before answering it.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Park, this is Doctor Song. I've gotten the test results back." Jimin swallows thickly as he stares at your naked figure.

"Go on." He says in the quiet room.

"Y/N is pregnant, like we discussed earlier." Jimin nods his head before clearing his throat.

"Thank you Doctor Song. I appreciate the call."

"When Y/N is able to sit in a car and walk without pain you can bring her in for a sonogram." Jimin sips his whisky.

"I will. Thank you."

"Have a good night, congratulations." Jimin hums to him before hanging up and putting his phone to his forehead.

"Okay. Here we go." He whispers before shooting back the rest of his glass. He stands up, his feet padding over to the bed before kneeling on the mattress. He brushes some stray hairs out of your face before sighing. He looks up at the canopy.

"Mom, Dad, give me strength." He whispers before kissing your forehead.

"Baby?" Your eyebrows furrow as Jimin kisses your cheek.

"Kitten, wake up." You groan before opening one eye.

"What time is it?" You mumble sleepily.

"I need to talk to you." His nervous voice peaks your interest and Jimin helps you sit up.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Jimin lets out a deep breath as if he hasn't been breathing. "I need to tell you something."

#the bird cage #mafia!bts #mafia!jimin #mafia!au #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bangtan #bts story #bts series #bts chapter #bts imagine #seokjin #jeongguk #jimin #taehyung #namjoon #hoseok #yoongi

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drariellevalentine · 4 years ago

Text

Medically Inevitable

Chapter 11:- Beloved Birthdays

Characters:- Arielle Valentine, Ethan Ramsey, Mark Raines, Liam Mercado, Sienna Trinh, Elijah Greene, Landry Olsen, Jackie Varma, Bryce Lahela, Rafael Aveiro, Kyra Santana, Danny Cardinal, Phoebe Reznik

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

Warnings:- Alcohol, Swearing

Arielle’s PoV:-

You wake up around 3:30, not being able to sleep. After tossing and turning in your bed with no avail, you step into your bathroom and decide to start your morning routine. After brushing your teeth and a series of skincare steps, you slip on your robe and head out to your balcony.

Sliding the glass door shut, to make sure no one wakes up, you step outside and lean against the railing. The cool breeze makes you shiver as your med school memories come rushing inside your mind, against your will. You forcefully shut your eyes, trying to make it stop, but it doesn’t...everything comes crashing down. You remember everything...from the moment you met him, to the platonic hang-outs which evolved into romantic dates, the sweet Valentine’s Day activities you would do every year, meeting each other’s families and the day when he said ‘I Love You’ and you said it back….and finally the moment when your heart was ripped apart. You sink to your knees, head between your knees, and let everything out. All the emotions swirling inside of you finally pour out of you as tears, completely soaking the front of the robe. It’s been about 10 minutes when you hear, “Arielle?” Looking up, you see Elijah right outside the threshold. You quickly wipe your tears and quickly stand up.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. An eyelash fell into my eye.”

He looks at you. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard.”

You sigh. “It’s a long story.”

“Okay then, short version.”, he says.

“I was in a six-year relationship during med school and it came crashing down a few months before residency. So, he ended up cheating on me...with my best friend.”

He gives you a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry Arielle.” He wheels his chair towards you as you slump back into your plush armchair.

“I’m fine. I’ve dealt with it. It just came back to me, reopened some old wounds.”, you say tears well up once again. He wordlessly envelops you in a hug, letting you sit there for some time. “Thanks, Elijah. You’re an amazing friend.” He’s about to reply when a yawn cuts him off.

“Looks like I’m a little sleepy.”, he smiles sheepishly.

“I completely forgot it’s so early. How did you even hear me?”, you ask.

“I heard sobbing from the side of my bed. It’s right next to your balcony remember?”

“Oh yeah. You should get some sleep.” He slowly wheels away but turns around, “Will you be okay?” You nod. He exits the room as you walk into your bathroom and decide to make yourself a nice hot bubble bath. Turning the hot water tap, you survey your bubble bath mixtures until deciding on a jasmine and coconut scented one. Pouring a generous amount in, you slip off your clothes and sink into the tub and let yourself relax.

After a long soak, you dry yourself off and go to the kitchen to get something to eat.

“Hey.” Startled, you look up to find Landry at the front door.

“You’re up this early?”, you ask.

“Yeah, I always leave this early. Even Dr. Ramsey gets in this early. I mean, he’s the example you want to follow right?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean that you have to follow his schedule.”, you reply teasingly.

“So are you coming or not? It definitely will help you in the competition, it gives you time to study your charts.”

“Alright. Just give me a sec.” You head into your room and pull on a pair of scrubs. You quickly pull your hair into a high ponytail and grab your backpack as you head out the door with Landry.

“We’ll take my car.” You slide into Landry’s car and drive to Edenbrook. You both grab your stuff and after dropping off your stuff, you both head out to the near-empty atrium. “Hey, want to see if Dr. Ramsey posted the new rankings earlier?”, he asks.

“That’s today?”, you ask.

“Yeah. You don’t remember?!”, he asks.

“Well, my mind slipped. I’m focused on my patients. Let’s go see.” Both of you walk towards the notice board and Landry slowly reads the list from the top. His face falls as he notices his rank.

“What!? How did I slip to eighth?”

“Well...did you make any mistakes recently?”, you ask.

“Well, I almost misdiagnosed a case the other day.” You look at him ridiculously.

“It wasn’t my fault! I didn’t know that she had changed her daily routine!”, he defends.

“Didn’t you talk to the patient?”, you ask.

“Why should I? We’re supposed to figure out what’s wrong with them, not listen to all their life stories.”, he shrugs.

“Learning about the patients and their stories is the best part! Anyways, it’s part of the job.”, you answer.

He nods. “Ok, I have to go.” He heads towards the nurses’ station. You notice your ranking, right above Landry’s. A small beam of pride washes over you. Taking advantage of the very empty atrium, you decide to visit Naveen when you notice Dr. Emery coming your way. Crap!

“Good morning, Chief Emery.”

“Good morning, Dr. Valentine.”, she nods in response. Quickly, you head back to the nurses’ station and go to pick up your charts when you hear someone call you.

“Valentine.” You turn around and see Zaid.

“Yes?…”

"Valentine, new admission in room 712. Dr.Ramsey wants you to handle it," Zaid states.

"Dr. Ramsey… asked for me?" You ask shocked.

"By name," Zaid says in a plain voice.

"Really? Why?" By now you can't help your smile.

"Gee, I dunno Valentine. I didn't ask. Maybe I should be more like you and badger my superiors with incessant questions," Zaid returns your smile sarcastically making you drop yours.

"Fineee," you raise your hand in mock surrender. "I'll go and attend the patient."

You make your way to the seventh floor. Entering the room with a smile on your face, you find a man in his late 50's laying on the bed.

"Good morning Mr.Platt. What can I do for you today?" You say nicely with a bright smile on your face.

"You can start by-" before the man can complete his sentence, he burps loudly scaring you with the sudden action. You compose yourself quickly. "turning down the A/C in this godawful hospital! I'm not a polar bear. And then you can send my doctor." He says rudely which annoys you but don't say anything rather play nice. "Enough nurses. Show me some-" he burps again -"respect."

"Mr.Platt I am your doctor-" he interrupts you." Like hell-" he burps loudly again," Like hell you are."

By this time your anger rises at this man's audacity. "Excuse me?" Your voice comes out louder and angrier than you expected.

"You look like a little teenager. You don't even look qualified to wipe my ass. Go and call an actual doctor."

“Oh, that’s it! How dare he question your qualification!” You’re about to rip him off when you remember he’s your patient. Taking a few deep breaths, you grit your teeth and calm yourself.

"I'm highly qualified. Mr.Platt, I assure you that I am older than I look," you decide to play the nice card one last time, "I graduated top of my class from-"

"Anyone can be certified for anything now-" he burps- "thanks to the internet."

“Oh my god!!!”, you think. “ Luckily Edenbrook has an extremely rigorous standard for its staff. I'm one of the best doctors of my year, nationwide. You are in good hands."

"Hrm. We'll see about that," he says, his voice filled with arrogance.

"Now why don't you tell me what brings you here today," you pick up his chart ignoring the wish to tear him apart. "Your chart says you have been experiencing chest pain."

"That's what I have been saying-" he burps again, "My chest hurts."

“When on Earth did he say that? All along he was just trying to question my qualification!”, you inwardly scoff.

"Okay. Anything else out of the ordinary?"

"Tingling in my arms like pins and needles." His expression turns into a horrified one when he says the next lines. "I read online that it means I'm having a heart attack."

"Well, that certainly can be a symptom. Have you been experiencing something else? Any jaw pain or maybe lightheadedness?"

"My damned hair has been falling out. Clumps of it in the pillow every morning when I wake up."

"Interesting," you note the point down "Definitely not a symptom of heart-" but you are again being cut off by him.

"But that's what-" he burps loudly for the hundredth time now, "-the internet said."

"The internet can be misleading, sir. Still, we'll send you down for an E.C.G to rule out the heart attack. But first I'll-"

"What the hell is an A.B.C.? You're making up this garbage as you go. Send me a real doctor now." You pinch the bridge of your nose as you make your way to the ER to get a head start on your shift before lunch.

Ethan’s PoV:-

You’re just finishing up your shift in the ER when a scent of coconut and some kind of flower wafts through the air. Turning around, you find none other than Dr. Valentine. You can tell she’s livid but trying to be calm.

“Dr. Valentine. How is Mr. Platt’s case going?” She weighs her options on what to say.

“He’s…quite difficult. But nothing I can’t handle.” You allow yourself a small smile regarding her response. “Dr. Ramsey, I have a question.” You nod. “Is there perhaps a certain reason you assigned me this case?” You were wondering when she was going to ask.

“There is.”

“Why?”, she asks clearly eager to know.

“Figure it out.”, you say swiftly leaving the ER. You can hear a groan escape her lips as you leave.

Arielle’s PoV:-

“What the hell does he mean, ‘Figure it out’?! Ugh!...”

“Dr. Valentine. There are no patients right now here. You can go.” You turn to see Sarah gesture to the empty beds.

“Well at least people aren’t sick.”, you think as you head back to the nurses’ station.

After rounds, you grab a light salad and a strawberry smoothie and spot some of your friends at a table.”Hey guys! What’s up?”

“What’s up is that’s it’s Jackie’s birthday today, but she thinks nobody knows.”, Elijah says.

“Wait what!? Why didn’t anybody tell me?!”, you ask.

“Well that’s why we’re telling you now!”, a voice says from behind. You turn around to find Bryce flashing you his signature smirk. You roll your eyes.

“So...what are we going to do?!”, you ask.

“How do you guys know?”, you ask.

“I saw a text from one of her friends.”, Sienna says.

“So, I and Bryce came up with this plan….”, Elijah explains the plan (with Bryce chiming in with (‘This was my idea!’) every once in a while as you chow down on lunch.

“Sounds awesome! Everyone on board?!”, Si asks. Everyone nods.

“I can snag us a reservation downtown.”, you offer.

“Those places have to be reserved months in advance!”, Sienna says.

You smirk, “I have friends in high places.”

“Of course you do.”, Bryce says. Just then your pager beeps.

“Time for my ER shift.”, you dispose of your tray and head to the ER after trading your pumps for a pair of sandals.

“Dr. Valentine!” You twirl around and see Danny waving.

“Hey, Danny.”

“Here’s the test results you asked for.”

“Thanks! By the way, we’re planning a surprise birthday party for Jackie today. You should come, Sienna would want you to.”

“...okay. I’ll try. And I won’t say a word to Jackie.”, he responds.

“I’ll send you the address later.” Thanking him, you look through the results for some clue...but find nothing.

You groan as you enter the ER. “Why did Dr. Ramsey even assign me this case?!”

“Having a bad day?” You turn around to find Rafael standing at the door of the E.R.

He gives you a sympathetic smile, "You sound like you could use someone to vent to. And not to toot my own horn," he smiles," but I have been told that I am a great listener."

"I don't doubt it," you smile back.

He pauses for a moment then adds, " Want to grab dinner after work today."

"I would have loved to, but I have got plans with some other interns tonight," you reply feeling guilty for denying such a sweet offer. However, you smile brightly as an idea strikes your mind, "Rafael, why don't you join us for dinner tonight?" You ask excitedly.

"Me and a bunch of hotshot doctors? I'm not sure that's my scene," he nods his head still smiling.

"C'mon! It's Jackie's birthday, so we are throwing her a surprise party. It would be fun," you say hoping he'd agree, " Also you could meet my friends. They are awesome."

He laughs at your excitement, "I am sure I have met them a couple of times. I bring a lot of emergency patients."

"Meeting them in the emergency ward don't count, Raf." You playfully roll your eyes. "They are a great group of people, they'll love you. And so will you..." Making a puppy face you request him in the cutest way possible," Please!"

Rafael bites his lips thinking and then shakes his head smiling.

"You can be very persuasive, you know?"

You grin at the comment. "So does that mean that you'll join us?"

He nods before laughing at your childish excitement. Your pager beeps.

“Incoming patient.” The pager should be known as the universal interrupter for doctors! I swear it just loves to interrupt people!”, you exclaim as you wave back to him.

“Well, It also does make sure that none of your patients are dead.”, he calls out. You laugh as you head to the emergency bay.

After your shift in the ER, you quickly update Dr. Tanaka on the scheduled surgeries and head to the 5th floor to find Ines.

“Ines! I need a favor.”

“Of course! What can I do for my favorite intern?”

“You probably shouldn’t say that out loud,...but I don’t mind.”, you reply with a cheeky smile. “I need you to keep Jackie busy with patients until I text you a heart.” She gives you a look. “Today’s her birthday and we want to surprise her.”, you explain.

Her face brightens, “Of course! I’ll make sure she doesn’t suspect anything.”

“Thank you!” You throw your arms around her for a quick minute and head off to the parking lot after grabbing your stuff. After a quick drive, you enter your apartment to see everyone except Jackie getting dressed.

Bryce notices you and walks towards you. “So, have you made the reservation yet?”

“Just about to call.” You head inside your room and scroll through your contact list until you find Mark, hitting dial. He picks up almost immediately.

“If it isn’t my favorite doctor cousin.”

“I’m your only cousin who’s a doctor.”, you laugh.

“So, how’s residency going? The last time we talked, you told me you were in a competition.”

“It’s...a learning experience. How’s Blair?”

“She’s amazing. She’s at the firm right now with Adrian.”

“Awesome. So, I need a favor from my favorite chef.”, you say.

“Ask away.”

“So, it’s a friend’s birthday and a need to make a reservation somewhere downtown. I would have made one before but I only got to know today. Do you know any restaurants in Boston that can squeeze a group of around...uh…10 people? Please?!”

“I’ll need more than that. Tell me what kind of place.”

“Hmm...let’s see. She would appreciate some a bit fancy but something where everyone can still be themselves and enjoy the night. The place would be nice if it was private, secluded. Definitely with like an open bar or something like that.”

He doesn’t respond. “Mark? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Sorry if it’s too much to ask. I’ll find something.”

“Woah, wait a sec Cherry! I was just thinking.”, he responds.

“Yeah, I know. It’s a lot to ask.”

”Luckily, I know just the place.”

“Thank you, Mark. So much.”

His voice softens, “Who else would I do this for? I’ll text you the address and any other details you need to know.”

“Ok bye!”

“Love you too Cherry!” He sarcastically says after he ends the call. You come out of your room to find everyone dressed and ready.

“Ahh! You guys all look amazing!”, you exclaim.

“And so will you, once you get ready.”, Sienna exclaims as she pushes you back into your room. “Okay, let’s see what you have.” She rifles through the evening wear section of your closet and pulls out a black lace dress. “This is perfect! Now get dressed while I pick out some accessories to match.”, she says as she goes through your jewelry drawer. You step into your closet and pulling on the dress, you pair it with a pair of gold stilettos.

“Are you done yet?!”

“Geez Sienna! Just a minute.” You walk out of your closet to find Sienna holding a pair of gold hoops and a gold wristwatch. Taking the earrings and clasping them on, you slide onto the stool and touch up your morning makeup. Sienna pulls out a baby pink liquid lipstick and applies a coat to your lips.

“All done!”

“Thanks for your help!”, you reply as you pull a matching gold crossbody purse and fill it with all your things. “Hey, I meant to ask. Is Wayne coming?”

Her face falls, “No, he said he’s busy.” You look at her, knowing she’s hiding something. “...I told him that I need a break.”

“Oh Sienna, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know...he’s changed Ari. It’s like he doesn’t even care about me or what I do. You saw how he acted at the housewarming party.”

“I think you should talk to him. And if things don’t work out…”, you give her a pointed look. “Look Sienna, I get it. But you deserve better.” She nods as she takes your phone from you. “What are you doing?”

“You’re an influencer! And you need to post about how amazing you look right now! Now, pose like this…right by your armchair.” She snaps a pic and posts it on Insta for you.

“I think we look amazing, don’t you?”, you ask as you turn to her.

“Nope…I know we look amazing!” You both giggle.

After one final look in the mirror, you and Sienna head outside and join your friends. “Okay, I’ve told Ines to keep Jackie busy so…she’s probably at the hospital. I’ll tell Ines to let her go so she’ll have just enough time to get ready as I text her.” Everyone nods in agreement as you pull out your phone and text Ines.

“Okay, Jackie’s on her way home. Now I’ll text her.”

You show everyone the series of texts. “Mission Birthday Surprise is a go!”

“Awesome! This is going to be amazing! Arielle, where’s the reservation?”, Sienna asks. You’re about to reply when Mark calls.

“Just on time.”You slip on a Bluetooth and answer.

“Hey, Mark. We’re all in the living room right now. Did you get a reservation?”, you ask.

“Let‘s just say I pulled a few strings. I’ll send you the address. We’ve already been here before but at a different part of the restaurant. I booked you guys a rooftop, so you guys should have privacy and instructed a few other things. The head chef will greet you there, and he’ll explain everything.”

“That’s amazing! Thank you so much!”

“Anything for you.”, you laugh.

“Okay, talk to you later.”

“Have a nice time. Love you.”

“Love you too.” You cut the call and turn to everyone to break the good news when everyone stares at you. “What?!”, you ask.

“You never told us you had a boyfriend!”, Elijah says. You stare at them in confusion until it hits you. You burst out in laughter as everyone stares at you.

“Oh my god guys, he’s my cousin! I’m currently single as a pringle. Now, seeing that you guys heard everything Mark said, let’s go!”

Everyone cheers as they all pile up in your car.

“I call shotgun!”, Bryce yells as he slides in the front seat. “Kyra, Phoebe, Danny, and Raf said that they’ll meet us there.”

“Awesome! I’ll send them the address.” After a quick text to all four, you start to drive.

Blasting and singing to music all the way, you reach the place in 20 minutes.

“You have reached your destination.” Everyone cheers.

“Come on! All of you out!” All of you grab your things and walk up to the swanky restaurant. You enter the restaurant and walk up to the person.

“Ah! You must be the group Chef Raines has personally reserved. Please, follow me.” He leads you up an elevator to reveal a beautifully decorated rooftop with tables set up and an open bar.

“Damn! This is nice! Way to go, Arielle!”, Elijah says. You turn around as you hear someone call your name.

“Well if it isn’t the one and only Arielle Valentine! Or should I say, Dr. Valentine?”

“Liam! What are you doing here?”, you shout as you hug him.

“I’m now head chef of this restaurant.”

“That’s amazing!” You turn to everyone. “Guys, meet Liam Mercado, an amazing chef, and my childhood bestie.” As you introduce everyone to each other, you notice Phoebe, Raf, Kyra, and Danny coming out from the elevator. “Elijah, Sienna! Look who’s here!” The four of them start talking as they constantly blush, leaving you to giggle.

“Arielle!” You walk towards Liam. “So I’ve done a birthday cake and everything and food prep will be done in about an hour. So, it’ll be perfect for you to surprise your friend and play some games right before dinner. Just tell me once you guys are ready for dinner and we’ll bring everything out.”

“Thank you, we have to catch up sometime. The last time I saw you, I was still in med school.”

He nods, “And the last time I saw you, I wasn’t engaged either.”

“What!? Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“Because in a few weeks, I was going to invite you to Lara’s baby shower.”

“Oh my god! Congratulations! If you keep dropping bombs on me like this, you’re going to give me a heart attack.”, you shriek.

“Trust me, I wasn’t planning to tell you like this either. But I’m really excited.”, he says with a fond smile.

“You’re going to be an amazing dad.” He smiles as his phone rings.

“Excuse me, but I have to take this. It’s Mark. Probably to see if I’ve met the expectations of his favorite sister.”, he sarcastically replies. Laughing, you walk back towards the group when you hear Sienna shout. “Oh my god! We forgot about presents!” Shit! You completely forgot about presents. Quickly calling everyone over, all of you decide that you and Kyra will go and get the presents with the money everyone pitches in. “Let’s go!”, you quickly drive to the nearest mall with Kyra.

“Do you have any idea about what we should get? We don’t have much time either!”

“I know Kyra. I think we’ll buy multiple small items and make them into like a huge gift basket.”

“Awesome idea! That should work.” You both quickly rush to the mall’s directory and skim the list of stores. “Hey Ari, there’s a Sephora on the ground floor. We should start there.” You nod and head to Sephora.

“Okay, we’ll split up and just pick out a few of our favorite products. Then we’ll meet up and decide what to keep.” You quickly scan all the aisles, picking out products as you go. Knowing that every female doctor’s biggest struggle is dark circles, you pick out a tube of concealer, primer, and light-weight foundation from your favorite brand as you try to match her skin tone. Then you pick out a few different types of eyeliner and mascara, knowing that pretty much no one can spot Jackie without her signature cat-eye.

“Ari!” You spot Kyra holding a bag of her own. You go over and put all your products together. She’s picked out a perfectly sized eyeshadow palette and a few different liquid lipstick and glosses.”This is perfect! We’ll go buy a basket and some ribbons later on.” After finishing the purchase at Sephora in a record time of 12 minutes, you rush out of the store.

“Ooh! What about some products from Lush?! She loved the spa day!”, you say.

“Great idea!” After browsing around Lush, you both come up with the idea to make the color of the products themed. Kyra picks out a few soaps and bath bombs as you decide to go to Bath & Body Works. Ending up with a bottle of hairspray, perfume, and a few candles, you meet Kyra back at the second-floor lounge.

“You’re back! I found this amazing scarlet pink basket that matched our theme! Then I bought some tissue paper and ribbons and a bunch of extra stuff!”

“Amazing! I also stopped by the card shop and found this savage birthday card. We’ll get everyone to sign it. Let’s get to work!” After a tedious discussion of placement, you and Kyra manage to arrange everything in the basket neatly. She wraps the basket in a clear wrapper and ties it up with a matching ribbon and bow.

“I think we make a great team.”, you say.

“We do, don’t we!” Both of you quickly drive back to the restaurant and rush up to the rooftop. You step out of the elevator to find the place fully decorated by your friends.

“They’re back!”, Bryce shouts. “And come bearing a huge gift basket!” You and Kyra explain to everyone about the gift, then pass the card around for everyone to sign. After you sign, Si helps you tie the card with the gift basket.

“I think we’re all set.”, Landry says.

“Yeah, this was some great work! I can’t believe you guys came up with this today!”, says Phoebe.

“That’s cause it was a team effort.”, Elijah says.

“And one which will be wasted if the birthday queen isn’t here. Where is she?”, Bryce asks.

“She’ll be here in 20, Bryce. Meanwhile, we need to set up the gifts and set up the tables.

You help your friends set up the tables and gifts that you bought, with the restaurant’s staff’s help. After a while, your phone rings. You shout, “Guys, be quiet! It’s Jackie!”

You answer the call. “Hey, Jackie! Are you here yet?”

“Yeah, I just parked. What do I do now?”, she asks.

“Tell the receptionist that you’re here for the dinner that the Raines’ reserved. We’re up on the rooftop. Bye!” You shove your phone in your purse and shout, “Okay guys! The moment we’ve been all waiting for! Places everyone! I’ll switch off the lights. Once I switch on the lights, everyone yells! Understood?! Everyone nods as they take their places. You kill the lights, and a few minutes later Jackie enters from the elevator. “Arielle? Sienna? Elijah? Guys, I swear if this is some kind of prank-“ You stifle your laughter as you switch on the lights.

“Surprise!!!!” Everyone runs up and hugs her as she stands there like a deer in headlights. Bryce takes a picture of her wide-eyed face.

“Happy birthday Jackie!” You exclaim as you trap her in a hug. “You look amazing!”

“Let me guess, this was all you?”, she responds with a knowing smirk.

“Noooooo!... It was all Bryce!”, you sarcastically say.

“Hey! Offense taken!”, Bryce shouts as both of you laugh.

“You guys did all this for me?”

“I don’t know, do you know anyone else named Jackie?”, Kyra teases. All of you laugh.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?! Let’s get this party started!”, you yell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors’ Note:- Hey lovelies! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and make sure to comment/reblog below! Also, make sure to turn on your notifications for the next chapter, where the gang gets involved in....let’s just say a quite adventurous dare. Let us know if you want to be added to the taglist!

And a special thank you to @nikki-2406, this a-ma-zing human being saved my ass from editing pics! Love you girl!🥰

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