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judebellswife · 2 months ago

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First Glimpse - Jude Bellingham

— REQUEST status OPEN

— pairing • jude bellingham x fem!reader

— summary • In Jude Bellingham’s much-anticipated documentary series, fans are given an intimate look into the football star’s life, with a special feature introducing his long-time girlfriend—you. Known for keeping a low profile despite dating one of football’s brightest stars, this marks your first public appearance. During a heartwarming interview, you open up about how you and Jude met, even though you already knew who he was, and how you never expected to become his girlfriend. The episode includes candid moments with Jude’s family, particularly his parents and younger brother, Jobe, with a special Thanksgiving Eve gathering where you all share laughter, love, and togetherness. Through your eyes, fans get to see a more personal side of Jude and his close-knit family.

— warnings • none :)

— note • i’ve got like 7-8 request about to write a one-shot with reader featuring in one of jude’s document series. so here it is, i hope you enjoy, happy reading!!

The camera focuses in on a familiar setting for those who follow Jude Bellingham’s career: the cozy, welcoming living room of the Bellingham family home. The walls are adorned with family photos, mementos from Jude’s rise in football, and hints of his personality—trophies and framed jerseys alongside warm family portraits.

But today, the focus is on you. You sit on the sofa, the soft cushions surrounding you as the camera captures your slight nervousness. A small, warm smile crosses your face, and you shift in your seat, unused to the spotlight.

A voice from behind the camera breaks the silence. The interviewer. “So, this is your first time on camera. How are you feeling?”

You chuckle, glancing off-screen for a moment as if looking for support before turning back. “Yeah, it’s definitely new for me. I’m more of a private person, so this is... different, but I’m excited to be part of this.”

There’s an understanding laugh from the interviewer. “For everyone watching, could you introduce yourself?”

You nod and give a small wave. “Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’m Jude’s girlfriend, and, um... yeah, I’m usually not in front of the camera, so this is a bit out of my comfort zone,” you say, your voice laced with both nerves and humor.

The interviewer continues smoothly, keeping the tone light. “So, let’s jump into the good stuff. How did you and Jude meet?”

You pause for a moment, your eyes softening as you think back to the day. “Well, I actually knew who Jude was,” you begin with a smile. “I mean, he’s Jude Bellingham. Anyone who follows football knows who he is. But I never imagined I’d actually end up dating him. That wasn’t even on my radar.”

The camera cuts to a shot of Jude laughing in an earlier part of the documentary, as if he’s recounting the same story, though from his perspective. His grin is wide, and there’s a glint in his eyes that shows how much he enjoys this memory.

You continue, your voice a little more relaxed now as you find your rhythm. “We met through mutual friends at a small gathering. I’d seen him play on TV and heard about him through the grapevine, but when we met in person, he was just... Jude. Not the football star. Just this really laid-back, funny guy.”

“So, did you know right away that you liked him?” the interviewer asks, intrigued.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Not at all. I was definitely attracted to him—he’s handsome, obviously—but I didn’t expect anything more than just a friendly conversation that night. I thought it’d be a ‘Hey, nice to meet you,’ and that’d be it.”

There’s a brief pause, and the interviewer presses gently. “So what changed?”

You smile, eyes twinkling with the memory. “Jude changed. We ended up talking the whole night. It was so easy with him, and I realized he wasn’t just this football prodigy everyone sees on the pitch. He’s so much more. Kind, funny, and really grounded. But it was his persistence that surprised me the most. After that night, he didn’t just let it end there. He reached out, wanted to spend time with me, and honestly? I couldn’t resist his charm.”

The camera switches to a series of candid clips, showing you and Jude out and about—him pulling faces to make you laugh, you playfully pushing him away before being pulled into a hug. It’s the kind of chemistry that makes it clear this relationship runs deep, full of mutual adoration and comfort.

“So, how long have you two been together now?” the interviewer asks off-screen.

You think for a second, tilting your head slightly as you calculate. “A little over two years now. Time flies, honestly. It’s been an incredible ride.”

“And what’s it been like, dating someone as high-profile as Jude?”

You take a deep breath, nodding. “It’s definitely been an adjustment. At first, it was a bit overwhelming, especially with how much attention he gets. But we had a conversation early on about keeping our relationship private, at least until we were ready. Jude’s been really protective of that—he’s always made sure I feel comfortable, and I love that about him. But I also understand that he’s a public figure, and being with him means that sometimes, I’ll be seen too. This,” you gesture around at the cameras, “is one of those times.”

The camera cuts to another moment—this time, Jude and you are walking through a park, your hands loosely clasped together. He swings your arm playfully, then stops to pull you into his side, whispering something in your ear that makes you laugh. It’s easy, intimate, and full of warmth.

“Speaking of being seen,” the interviewer continues, “how does it feel to finally share a bit of your relationship with the world?”

You laugh softly. “It’s exciting, I guess. People have always been curious, but I’ve been pretty firm about staying out of the spotlight. I’m not someone who thrives on attention like Jude does. But it’s nice to be able to show this part of his life. People know him as the footballer, but they don’t really see the person behind all of that. I’m happy to share a little bit of what we have, because it’s special.”

The camera pans across the Bellingham household, warm and inviting with the sounds of family chatter filling the air. Thanksgiving Eve at the Bellingham’s is a full house. Jude’s dad, Mark, is in the living room, laughing loudly with Jobe and Jude as they discuss football, while his mom, Denise, is in the kitchen, bustling about as she prepares the family meal.

The lens of the camera focuses on you for a moment. You’re helping Denise chop vegetables, your hands moving a little slower than hers but with focus, and you share a comfortable conversation. A nervous laugh escapes you as you attempt to cut the vegetables to her standard.

“Are you sure I’m doing this right?” you ask, holding up an unevenly chopped carrot with a teasing smile. “It doesn’t look quite like yours.”

Denise glances over and laughs softly, reaching out to gently touch your arm in reassurance. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re doing just fine,” she says, her voice full of warmth. “Trust me, my first Thanksgiving wasn’t perfect either. And honestly, even if it’s a bit wonky, it’s still going to taste amazing.”

Her words, her tone—there’s something deeply maternal in the way Denise speaks to you. It’s as if you’re already a part of the family, not just Jude’s girlfriend, but someone she holds close to her heart. You smile at her gratefully, feeling that familiar warmth whenever you’re around her.

Denise’s attention turns fully to you now, setting down her wooden spoon and wiping her hands on a towel before stepping closer. “You know,” she begins, her voice soft and kind, “I’ve always thought of you like a daughter. You’re such a big part of Jude’s life, but you’ve also become such an important part of ours too.”

You look at her, slightly taken aback by the depth of her words. Your heart swells in your chest, not expecting the surge of emotion. “That means the world to me, Denise,” you say, your voice quiet but sincere. “I’ve always felt so welcomed here. You and Mark, and even Jobe—you’ve all made me feel like part of the family from day one.”

Denise steps forward, enveloping you in a gentle but tight hug, the kind that only a mother could give. “That’s because you are family,” she whispers against your shoulder. “We love you like one of our own.”

You close your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to sink into her embrace, feeling a wave of comfort wash over you. In this family, you’ve found something special—something you didn’t expect to have when you first started dating Jude. It’s not just a relationship with him; it’s a bond with the people who raised him, who made him the person you love so deeply.

As you pull away, Denise gives you a warm smile, her eyes soft with affection. “Jude’s a lucky man,” she says, glancing toward the living room where Jude is seated. “But then again, I think we’re all lucky to have you around.”

You chuckle softly, still holding onto the warm feeling in your chest. “I’m the lucky one. Jude’s incredible, and you’ve all been nothing but wonderful.”

Denise’s eyes twinkle as she leans in conspiratorially. “He’s a handful sometimes, though, isn’t he?”

You laugh, nodding in agreement. “Oh, definitely. But I love him all the more for it.”

Denise shakes her head, her smile growing wider. “Good, because he needs someone like you to keep him in check.”

There’s a shared understanding between the two of you, the kind that goes beyond words. Denise pats your hand and returns to stirring the pot, the air between you filled with warmth and affection. It’s a small moment, but one that fills your heart, making you realize just how deeply connected you’ve become to Jude’s family.

The scene transitions to the dining room, where the entire family is gathered around the table. Mark is telling a story, his booming laugh punctuating the conversation as Jobe makes a playful remark. Jude sits beside you, his arm draped over the back of your chair, his fingers occasionally brushing against your shoulder as he smiles and laughs along with his family.

“Jobe, pass the bread,” Jude says, reaching across the table with a grin.

Jobe rolls his eyes dramatically but tosses the basket of bread to his brother. “There you go, Mr. Superstar.”

You nudge Jude with your elbow as he catches the bread. “You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t start charging for autographs at family dinners.”

Jude grins, leaning in closer to you. “Oh, I’d give you an autograph for free,” he teases, his voice low and playful.

You roll your eyes but smile, and as Jude reaches for his plate, Denise catches your eye from across the table. She gives you a wink, as if to say, See what I mean? A handful.

The love and ease that fills the room is palpable. You can’t help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. This family has welcomed you, loved you, and made you one of their own, and tonight is a perfect reflection of that.

The camera lingers on the scene—Jude’s hand resting on your shoulder, Denise watching her sons with pride, and you laughing along with them, fully immersed in the warmth of their family dynamic.

As the evening winds down, and dessert is served, Jude’s dad, Mark, stands up, raising a glass. “I think we all know what I’m about to say,” he begins with a grin. “But this Thanksgiving, I just want to take a moment to say how grateful we all are. Grateful for family, for good health, and, of course, for the wonderful woman who’s come into our lives and made our son the happiest he’s ever been.”

You blink, taken aback by the sudden toast, your eyes glancing around the table. Denise smiles warmly at you, her eyes filled with affection, and Jude leans closer, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze under the table.

“To Y/N,” Mark says, raising his glass higher. “Welcome to the family. Officially.”

There’s a soft murmur of agreement as everyone raises their glasses, and you feel your throat tighten with emotion. It’s not just words—it’s a promise. A declaration that you belong here, with them.

As everyone takes a sip, Jude leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, whispering, “I told you they love you.”

You turn to him, your heart full. “And I love them.”

The camera captures the final moments of the evening—the plates scattered with crumbs, the soft murmur of conversation as everyone winds down, and the love that fills the room. The bond between you and Jude has always been special, but tonight, it’s clear that your relationship extends beyond just the two of you. You’ve found a home with his family, and they’ve found a place in your heart.

As the screen fades to black, the soft hum of background music plays, leaving the viewers with a sense of warmth and love, the credits rolling as the final glimpse of your story is shared with the world.

#jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham oneshot #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham smau #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #football imagines #football fanfic #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham series

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breezeflows · 4 months ago

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The Long Road (Stanford Pines x Reader)

Chapter 3

WOOP WOOP CHAPTER 3 IS HERE AND BOY IS IT JUICY🫣 On a serious note though, we are finally getting into some of the exciting bits of the story!! I’m hoping by the next chapter we will finally be back in the present. No more sad flashbacks!! Also y’all writing Lizzy is genuinely my favorite. If this fic wasn’t about Ford I’d be wifing her up instead😔 Anyways- here’s chapter 3 you lovely souls!

Themes: Consumption of alcohol (reader lowkey gets wasted), major hangover, bill himself is a warning, suggestiveness kind of?? idk, heartache, lizzy is overall an amazing friend, alllll the angst and feelings, injuries, etc okay enjoy!

The drive to Lizzy’s place is quiet, the steady hum of the car engine and the sound of raindrops against the windshield the only background noise. You sit in the passenger seat, watching the trees pass by through the window as you fiddle with the wedding band around your finger. Lizzy glances at you occasionally, a small frown on her face as she senses your mood. She remains silent for most of the ride, giving you space to process your emotions if need be.

It's not long before the car rolls to a stop in front of her apartment building. You reach around to gather your belongings from the backseat and step out into the rainy afternoon. Lizzy follows suit, bright pink umbrella in hand as she leads you towards the entrance.

Once inside the building, she unlocks the door to her apartment building and the two of you usher inside. The soft yellow light of the living room envelopes you, creating a cozy atmosphere in stark contrast to the gloominess outside.

Lizzy begins to kick off her shoes, hanging her keys as she silently studies your face. She can see the turmoil in your eyes, and the uncertainty you’re trying to hide.

“So,” she says gently, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

Your eyes snap out of the daze they were in as you look over at Lizzy, giving her a weak smile.

“Oh, yeah I guess. Things went a lot better than I thought they would.”

Her expression relaxes at your response, a hint of relief showing on her face.

“That’s good,” she says as she walks over to the couch and plops down on it, gesturing for you to do the same. “I was half-expecting a tearful scene or something, honestly.”

You manage a light chuckle at her remark, plopping down on the couch next to her. You pull your knees to your chest as you grab a blanket draped across the back of it, wrapping it around you.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Ford took it pretty well, actually. Better than I expected.”

Lizzy raises a brow as she leans against the back cushions, her arms crossing. “Girl, he better take it well after what he said to you. If it had been me, I would’ve dropped his ass on the spot.”

You can’t help but let out a small snort of laughter at her words, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of your lips for the first time in a while. It’s a relief to have Lizzy’s no-nonsense attitude around, her bluntness serving as a much-needed dose of honesty.

“Yeah, yeah Liz, I know.” you admit, the smile still lingering on your face. “I was a little tempted.”

Lizzy grins, satisfied with your response as she reaches over and pats your knee supportively.

“As you should,” she says with a nod. “You don’t deserve treatment like that of any kind, no matter how important his research is to him.”

You frown slightly at her words, opting to pick at the blanket below as a distraction.

“Yeah..”

Lizzy watches your expression carefully, sensing your discomfort. She tilts her head slightly, her gaze searching your face.

“But you don’t quite agree, do you?” she probes gently.

You let out a sigh, unsure how to articulate your feelings as you continue to fiddle with the fabric of the blanket.

“It’s just… complicated Liz,” you say, your voice tinged with guilt and frustration. “Yes, I’m hurt and angry with him, but I also understand where he’s coming from. We’ve been together almost our whole lives, and this is all he has ever worked towards. His research is important to him, and he’s under a lot of pressure.”

Lizzy nods slowly as she listens to your words, her expression a mix of understanding and concern. She reaches over and places a hand on top of yours, stopping your nervous fidgeting.

“I get that Y/N, I do,” she says quietly. “And I’m not saying he’s completely in the wrong. But you shouldn’t have to feel like an afterthought in his life either. That’s not fair to you.”

Your eyes brim with tears at her response, your hand twisting and taking hers tightly.

“I know,” you say, your voice threatening to break. “I just wish we could fix things..”

Lizzy squeezes your hand as your tear-filled eyes meet hers.

“And you will, Y/N. It’ll just take some time.”

A small, wobbly smile forms on your lips at her reassurance, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. The hope that you might be able to fix things with Ford, to find a way to bridge the gap that’s widened between you both, is a small but significant comfort.

“Thank you, Liz,” you murmur, your voice still shaky. “I really hope you’re right.”

Lizzy stands with a smile, her hand pulling away from yours and resting on your shoulder.

“I know I’m right chick, because you two love each other. I’ve seen it.”

Your heart warms at her confidence, a soft smile forming on your lips as you nod.

“Now, how about some pizza?”

The few weeks you spend with Lizzy fly by, days passing in a blur of movies, late-night conversations, and plenty of chocolate induced comfort eating. As the final night of your stay approaches, Lizzy turns to you with a sly grin on her face.

“Y/N, I know you’ve been pretty reclusive the past couple of weeks, but it’s your last night here and I refuse to let you spend it watching crappy movies in my living room.”

She places her hands on her hips and gives you a stern look.

“We’re going out for drinks and that’s final.”

You mope as you walk into her view from the bathroom, your voice annoyed and pleading as you speak.

“Liz, I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m a married woman, and this dress feels less than... modest.”

Lizzy rolls her eyes, her expression clearly unconvinced.

“Girl, you’re not here to pick up someone, you’re here to have fun. And as for the dress I picked out for you, it looks fantastic. Stop overthinking it.”

She gives you a onceover, inspecting your outfit.

“Besides, I’d like to see anyone who tries hitting on you tonight.”

You pout as you watch her, pulling down your dress so it covers your knees.

“I don’t know how Ford would feel about this..”

Lizzy scoffs, shaking her head.

“Ford’s not here, and we both know he should be the last person you’re trying to impress right now. You’re still young, and attractive Y/N, you deserve to enjoy yourself for one night without him on your mind. Not to mention you’ve got to live your life without kids while you can. I know the two of you have talked about it. ”

She grabs the hem of your dress and tugs it back up, flashing you a defiant look.

“And if he has a problem with you having fun, he can talk to me.”

You sigh as you give in, knowing Lizzy wouldn’t be changing her mind about your all’s plans for the night.

“Fine, fine. But we’re not staying out too late, okay?”

Lizzy grins, victorious.

“That’s more like it! And don’t worry, I promise we won’t be out until dawn,” she assures you. “Just a few drinks, maybe a little dancing, and then we’ll come back here. You trust me, right?”

“More than anything Liz.”

And that’s how you find yourself at the bar now, one too many drinks in and slumped against Lizzy’s shoulder.

She laughs at your state, her own cheeks flushed from drinking. She slings an arm around your shoulders, keeping you upright and steady in the booth the two of you occupied.

“Goodness chick, are you already trashed? We’ve barely been here an hour!” she teases, her voice lighthearted and amused.

You grumble something in response, your head spinning from the alcohol in your system. You take another sip from your glass, your tongue loose and inhibitions lowered.

“I blame you,” you slur, pointing an accusatory finger at Lizzy. “You’re a bad influence.”

Lizzy laughs loudly at your accusation, her eyes sparkling. “No one forced you to down those shots, Y/N,” she says, sliding out of the booth with ease. “I’m going to get you some water, alright? You stay right here in your seat.”

You nod lazily at her words, the idea of staying where you are very appealing. You watch groggily as she strides away, her bell bottoms and flare top in tow. She weaves through the crowd to make her way to the counter, your eyes becoming heavy.

Just as you’re starting to doze off from the alcohol, a presence suddenly sits down in the booth across from you. You blink in surprise, your vision clearing slightly as you focus on the newcomer.

Your eyes widen as you recognize your husband’s face, his features strangely serious and intense as he stares back at you. But there’s something off about him… Something otherworldly in his gaze that sends a chill down your spine.

“Well, well,” he says, his voice cool and calculated. “If it isn’t dear Y/N. You look a little worse for wear.”

Your vision blurs as you grip the side of the table, your words slurred as you speak.

“F.. Ford?”

Ford smiles widely, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. The expression is slightly unfamiliar, different from the familiar warmth you’re used to. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“In the flesh, honey,” he drawls, his voice smooth and flirtatious.

“But I see you’ve had quite a few drinks already. Feeling a little dazed? I wonder how Sixer would feel about me seeing you in this state and not him. Hilarious!”

Your arm trembles weakly as you hold yourself up, vision blurring in and out as you sway slightly in your seat.

“Wha.. What? Why are you.. here..?”

His lips curl into a smug smirk as he eyes your disheveled form, eyes lingering on your exposed skin, clearly enjoying your confusion and intoxication.

“Oh, I had a little chat with Fordsy earlier. He agreed to let me take the reins for a few hours…”

He gives a careless shrug. “You know how he is. All work and no play. Figured I’d take advantage of the situation, hell, I even got him a new tattoo!”

You sit there, dumbfounded and wavering in and out of consciousness as your mind tried to process what Ford was talking about.

Ford’s – or rather, Bill’s – eyes rake over you again, giving an exaggerated sigh before his lips turned into a sly grin.

“You really are a sight for sore eyes, I can see why Sixer married you.”

Your thoughts are still spinning from the alcohol, making it hard to focus on the conversation. You struggle to keep yourself upright, your body feeling heavy and numb.

Bill notices your dazed state, chuckling as he gives a mockingly sympathetic tone.

“You look a little out of it, darling. You really shouldn’t have had so much to drink. Especially considering how easy it’d be to trick you into a deal right now.”

Your mind races with confusion as you stand up weakly, your gut telling you something wasn’t right as you sway back and forth, (Or maybe it was the alcohol) your vision blurring as you scan the place in search of Lizzy.

“Going somewhere? Those human legs of yours don’t look very stable!”

You wobble forward, ignoring his protests as you keep moving.

“You really should listen to me if you want to avoid that nasty bruise tomorrow!”

He calls out, and before you know it you trip, and everything goes black.

Hours later… aka early morning.

You slowly open your eyes, your head pounding and your memories fuzzy. You realize you’re lying on a couch in Lizzy’s apartment, a cool cloth pressed over what you assume to be a large tender bruise on your forehead.

Lizzy is sitting perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. She notices your eyes flutter open and lets out a relieved sigh.

“Oh thank god,” she mutters. “You had me worried for a second there. I stayed up with you all night waiting for you to wake up.”

“Liz?” you mumble, head pounding. “What the hell happened? My head is killing me..”

Her expression softens at your groggy murmur, her hand reaching out instinctively to brush the hair away from your face.

“Hey, take it easy,” she says, voice low and soothing. “You took a pretty nasty fall back at the bar. Hit your head on a table on the way down.”

Your eyes widen as your memory jogs itself.

“What..? Wait, Ford.. Ford was there?”

Lizzy freezes, her expression guarded at the mention of Ford. She averts her gaze, focusing her attention on the cloth that she’s holding against your forehead.

“Uh, yeah,” she says, her voice hesitant. “He showed up towards the end of the night when I went to grab you a water… You don’t remember?”

You think to yourself for a moment, your memory patchy and vague.

“I mean, I kind of do. But it was weird? Did something happen?”

Lizzy is silent, her gaze still firmly averted from yours. She adjusts the cloth, pressing it against your head with a little more pressure than necessary.

“Nothing happened,” she finally says, her voice tight. “You just had a little too much to drink and tripped, that’s all.”

Her words are curt and dismissive, clearly trying to downplay the situation. But there’s something in her expression, a flicker of unease that betrays her true emotions.

She glances at you briefly, her eyes meeting yours for a split second before moving back to your injury.

“Lizzy..?” you say, silently pleading with her to tell you the full truth.

She exhales slowly, her shoulders slumping in resignation. She knows you’re not going to let this go, and she owes you the truth.

“Alright, fine,” she mutters avoiding your gaze. “When I got back to the booth, it was exactly when you had fell..”

You listen closely, sitting yourself up slightly.

“I had noticed Ford when I got there, sure, but when I went to go help you..”

Lizzy pauses, a frown forming on her face as she continues.

“Ford laughed,” she says as her eyes meet yours, full of concern and.. fear? “And not in a lighthearted way, in a cruel mocking way Y/N..”

Lizzy lowers the cloth from your head, placing it in her lap as you sit there, dumbfounded.

“He was just… enjoying the view, I guess,” She mutters bitterly. “Like you were some kind of joke, I don’t know Y/N. It was fucking weird, really fucking weird. I didn’t like it. He laughed as if he was the one who had done it.”

Lizzy trails off, brows furrowed as she clenches her fists. While you, on the other hand, are utterly speechless.

Your mind reels with this new information, struggling to reconcile the image of Ford – laughing coldly and mockingly at your predicament - with the caring, affectionate husband you’ve known him to be your whole life.

“I… I don’t understand,” you stutter, your voice small and confused.

“He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t do that. Not Ford.”

But as you say those words, you can’t help but recall the other strange things that had happened earlier that night. Ford’s detached demeanor, his unfamiliar choice of words, the way he seemed so cold and calculating. Your heart clenches in your chest at the thought, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Had something happened over the few weeks you’ve been gone? Did Ford get too deep in his research? Something wasn’t right.

As you try to make sense of the situation, Lizzy watches you with a mix of compassion and concern. She knows this is incredibly tough for you to hear, but she also seems to have her own worries about the situation.

“I don’t know Y/N,” she says quietly, her hands twisting in her lap. “It was just… so not him. I don’t know what the hell happened. But I’ve never seen him act like that before. It’s like he was a different person.”

Her voice trails off, leaving the two of you in silence as you’re both lost in thought.

Eventually, Lizzy breaks the silence, her voice sympathetic as she places a hand on top of yours.

“How about this, you rest up today, and when you’re ready, I’ll take you to the cabin to get some answers from Ford? Only if you feel comfortable, of course.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside of you.

“Alright,” you murmur. “I’m still feeling pretty rough, but I’d like to see him… tonight, if possible.”

Despite your confusion and worry, you know that facing your husband and talking with him is the only way to get answers. The answers that you crave so desperately in hopes that it’ll mend your breaking heart - and marriage.

Lizzy gives you a reassuring nod.

“Of course,” she says gently. “You rest up, and I’ll come get you when it’s time to go.”

She stands up, gently readjusting the cloth on your head.

“Try to get some sleep, okay?”

You nod, laying yourself back down.

You’re going to need it to cross the bridge that awaits you tonight.

READER AND BILL INTERACTION WOOP WOOP!! Also I’m not gonna lie, I feel like I messed up the timeline a little bit but I’m just gonna go for it. Thank you for reading! :)

Tag List: @artistic-gato @karmaisacatluzi @therottenheartofscum @violetvsworld @inquiit @catr4dora

#gravity falls #gravityfallsxreader #stanford pines #stanford pines x reader #gravity falls dipper #mabel pines #stanley pines #gravity falls fanfiction #ford pines x reader #ford pines #the book of bill #bill cipher #stanford pines x you

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goldfades · 9 months ago

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⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 (𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐬) | nh¹³

౨ৎ ─ summary | you and nico have only been dating for 6 months but both of you are convinced you've found the one, and a certain theory proves you right.

─ word count | 2k

─ warnings | mention of doubt in relationships (not you and nico's ofc) and slight angst when it comes to ex's, BUT OTHER THAN THAT, tooth-rotting fluff u might just get diabetes 🥹

─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke

─ ev's notes | i know this is SOOOO short but i still hope y'all enjoy! i love nico sm :( hes adorable :(((

You and Nico had been dating for almost 6 months and it has been nothing less of perfection, you'd never thought you'd meet someone who fit every single one of your boxes. He was handsome, tall but also very sweet, empathetic and mature. Before Nico, you had only dated self-involved assholes who only cared about their wants and needs.

Now, with Nico, everything felt different. He listened to you attentively, remembered all the little details you shared, and always made an effort to understand your perspective. His presence was calming, always making sure you were okay and somehow always knowing if you weren't, even if you insisted you were. Everything with Nico was effortless, you didn't have to try - you just knew.

Despite the love that enveloped your relationship, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling of doubt that occasionally crept into your mind. It wasn't about Nico himself - he was everything you had ever wanted and more - but rather a lingering fear that somehow, someday, it might all come crashing down. Maybe it was the scars left behind by past boyfriends, the ghost of heartbreaks past whispering cautionary tales in your ear. Or maybe it was simply the vulnerability that comes with opening your heart to another person so completely, knowing that the possibility of pain exists alongside the promise of love.

Yet, with each passing day, Nico continued to prove himself worthy of your trust, erasing any doubts with his unwavering love. He showed you, time and time again, that he was different; that he was here to stay.

"And then I looked inside of the car, and it was what looked like a sixteen year old." Nico shook his head as he bit into his sandwich. "A sixteen year old with a damn Porsche, can you believe it?"

You chuckled at Nico's story, shaking your head in disbelief. "A sixteen-year-old with a Porsche? That's insane. How did can they even afford it?"

Nico laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I have no idea. Must be nice to have such generous parents. My first car was my dad's old car, it was a really old Toyota Camry." Nico took a bite of sandwich before continuing, "I crashed it 3 times before getting my new car."

"Three times?" you exclaimed, unable to hide your surprise. "And you're still alive to tell the tale?"

Nico chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I wasn't the best driver back then. It's a miracle that Camry held up. I learned my lesson, though. Now I drive like a grandparent."

"Oh, I know." You teased as you finally got your sandwich from the waitress, smiling up at her. "Thank you."

"Can you imagine crashing a Porsche? Imagine how much you'd have to spend fixing it." Nico shook his head as he looked at you.

"Crashing a Porsche? I can't even imagine affording one in the first place, let alone fixing it after a crash. That's a whole different level of stress." You shook your head as you took a bite of your sandwich.

Nico chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Exactly. I'd rather stick to my reliable car. Besides, I've grown attached to it over the years. It's got character."

"Oh no, they put tomatoes in my sandwich." You gagged as you put down your sandwich, sighing.

"Wait, you don't like tomatoes?" Nico looked back at you in disbelief. "How do you not like tomatoes?"

You made a face, scrunching up your nose at the offending tomato slice. "I've just never been a fan. The texture, the taste – it's just not my thing." You began taking the tomatoes out from the sandwich.

Nico laughed, reaching across the table to grab the tomato slice from your plate. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to love tomatoes. Problem solved." He winked, placing the tomato on his own plate.

You laughed along with Nico. "God, they're disgusting."

Nico smirked, his dimple showing as he held up the tomato slice like a trophy. "More for me, then. Tomatoes are so good, especially in a sandwich."

You shook your head, feigning disgust. As you watched him enjoy the tomato slice with happiness, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through your chest. He was so cute. "Well, you can take all the tomatoes you want from me."

Nico grinned, "oh, I will. Don't you worry."

"Oh wait." You watched him eat the tomato. "This is the Olive Theory!"

"What the hell is the Olive Theory?" Nico looked confused as you smiled, excited. "Aren't we talking about tomatoes?" He smiled at your excitement.

You laughed, nodding eagerly. "Yes, yes, but bear with me. So, you know how in 'How I Met Your Mother,' Marshall and Lily have the Olive Theory?"

Nico furrowed his brow, trying to recall. "Vaguely. Something about olives?"

"Exactly!" you exclaimed, delighted that he was playing along. "So, the theory goes that Marshall hates olives, but Lily loves them. Whenever they order food, Marshall always gives his olives to Lily, and it's this little gesture of love and compatibility. The idea is that if one person hates olives and the other loves them, it's a sign of compatibility because it means you complement each other."

Nico's eyes lit up with understanding. "Ohh, I see where you're going with this. So, you hate tomatoes, but I love them. And I happily take them from you. It's like our own little Olive Theory."

"Exactly!" you exclaimed, your heart swelling with affection for him.

Nico couldn't help but smile at you. You were so cute, he couldn't help but laugh at how excited you got. Nico's laughter filled the air, his smile reflecting the warmth in his heart. "You're adorable, you know that?"

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Well, I learned from the best," you teased, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Nico reached across the table, his hand finding yours as he squeezed it gently. "I mean it though, you're amazing. You're adorable when you get all excited about these little things, even if I don't understand half of the references you make."

You chuckled, appreciating his honesty. "Well, that just means we have more opportunities for you to learn and for me to share all my references with you."

Nico's eyes sparkled with affection as he held your gaze. "Yeah and then I can teach you about hockey, it's perfect."

You smiled at Nico's suggestion. "I'd love that! Hockey lessons from the expert himself. Now people won't call me a puck bunny."

Nico grinned, his enthusiasm contagious. "You'll be a pro in no time. Maybe you could even join the team, who knows?"

"Maybe I'll even be captain."

Nico shook his head, "Nah that's kind of my job."

You laughed as you gazed at your boyfriend, a warm smile playing on your face. "Alright, Captain, I'll let you keep the title. But maybe I can be the team's official cheerleader?"

"Well you're already my cheerleader so that wouldn't work very well, would it?" Nico shrugged as you laughed and shook your head.

You couldn't help but laugh at Nico's response. "I guess you're right. Can't double up on roles, can we?"

Nico smirked, "No can do, princess. You're my lucky charm not the team's."

You nodded your head in faux understanding as you played along with Nico's words. "Right, right. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Good cus I need my good luck charm." Nico smiled, his eyes warm with affection as he squeezed your hand once again.

"And you'll always be mine." You replied, his words filled you with a warm, fuzzy feeling, and you squeezed his hand gently in return. As you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that no matter what happens, one thing remained: your love and support.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#❀ evangeline's 1k celly!!⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚#nico hischer imagine #nico hischier smut #nico hischier imagines #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier #nhl imagines #nhl angst #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fic #luke hughes #njd #jack hughes

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libraryofolive · 1 month ago

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party time!

featuring: CEO!Satoru Gojo x trophy wife!reader

genre: fluff, drabble

word count: 1.2k

synopsis: You, the trophy wife of the infamous Satoru Gojo, decide to spend your October planning a no expenses spared party to celebrate the holiday. What could go wrong?

part one of spooky section, my 2024 Halloween event!

“We’re throwing a party.” You declared over dinner on a dreary mid-September day. Your husband, the notorious CEO Satoru Gojo looked up from his meal (made from scratch, by you) at the sound of your voice.

“Hm?” He asked, cocking his head to one side, blue eyes as bright as ever.

“We’re throwing a party. For Halloween.” You continued, “I want something to do whilst you’re at the office all day. So, I’m throwing a Halloween party. It’ll be the talk of the town.”

“I’d expect nothing less from my darling wife.”

“I’ll handle everything - down to your costume. We’ll be doing a couple’s costume-”

“I would hope so-”

“I want it to be extravagant. The type of party that ends up like an urban legend.”

“You know I love when you have a passion project, baby. Why are you asking mee for my permission on this?”

“Oh, I’m not asking for permission.” You grinned at your husband, “I’m asking for a budget.”

By the time All Hallows Eve fell, everything had miraculously fallen into place. It had taken you the full month and a half to plan everything, but seeing it all pull together had made it all worth it. You had decided to throw it at your multi-story penthouse, deciding it made the party feel more personal, more exclusive. But gone was the chic home you and Satoru were used to, and instead, when Satoru returned home from a half day at the office (to leave plenty of time to get ready, by your demand) it was like walking into a whole new universe. Candelabras lined the walls, the melted wax dripping red against the white exterior of the candles, giving a blood-like effect. Cobwebs were strung from the ceiling, littered with faux bats and fairy lights. You had turned one of your corridors into the iconic tunnel from Coraline, your kitchen into a witches’ lair, full of ‘potions’ to drink and ‘charms’ to eat. Even your windows were decorated - full of decals that made them look like the stained glass one would find in an ancient church. There were pumpkins everywhere, some carved, some warty - in any placed you looked there was something seasonal.

“Baby?” He had called out once his awe had worn off.

“In the bedroom! Get your ass in here!” You yelled back. He let out a chuckle at that, before heading up the stairs two at a time. To say he was excited to finally found out what he would be dressed as this evening would be an understatement - if he was being perfectly honest, he would say it had been at the forefront of his mind since he slid you that black card after you had asked for a budget, telling you to go crazy. He had been stalking your various Pinterest boards dedicated to this party, to no avail (you knew he would do this, so purposefully made a private board for costume ideas, it was a surprise, after all).

He burst into your bedroom, giving the poor woman currently doing your make up a fright. “Blue? You’re being painted blue… please don’t tell me you’re making me be Papa Smurf all night.” His eyes scanned the room, looking for anything that would tip him off as to what you had planned. You giggled at his antics, forcing yourself not to shake your head at him so you didn’t disturb your make-up artists.

“And parade around as Smurfette all night? No, it’s something much better.” You couldn’t help the grin that overtook your face. “Your costume is hanging up in the white bag in my closet - bring it in here before you open it. I want to see your reaction.” Satoru all but sprinted to your closet. Halloween had always been one of his favourite times of year, so when you had told him you had wanted to throw a kick-ass party for the holiday, he wanted to jump with joy.

He found the bag immediately and raced back to your side, shaking in anticipation.

“Go ahead, Toru, open it.” He was like a child at Christmas with how quickly he tore the zip of the garment bag open, his glee lighting up the room. He took the costume in - a pinstripe suit. Was he Gomez Addams? But you were being painted blue, so you certainly weren’t in the middle of a transformation into Morticia. The tails of the suit jacket were thin and pointy, and there was five of them instead of the usual two. It wasn’t until he set his eyes on the iconic, large bowtie, or rather bat-tie that it all clicked into place.

“Jack Skellington!” He gasped. “Right? And you’re blue because you’re going to be my Sally?”

“Bingo.” You smiled fondly at him.

“Babe, this is- this is amazing. Your decorations are like - oh my God, they’re brilliant, and this is such a good costume idea-” Your face warmed as he sung your praises, glad he approved.

A few hours later and the party was in full swing. Everyone you had invited showed up, all dressed to the nines in their various costumes. Drinks flowed, the band you hired kept the vibe up and the dance floor full practically all night. At points, that included you and Satoru, who couldn’t resist a dance (or two or three) with his lovely wife.

In the wee hours of the morning, as people filtered out, after thanking you for a brilliant night, some even enquiring if you’d do the whole thing again a year later, Satoru forced you onto the dance floor one last time. This one much slower, much more intimate, as he held you close, tucked against his chest and under his chin, one of his hands around your waist and the other holding yours against him.

“You’ve done amazing.” He whispered into your hair, deciding that speaking at a normal volume would ruin the moment. “I mean, I knew you would, especially after seeing you plan our wedding.”

“Oh shush.” Your words implied annoyance, but your tone said something else entirely as you hid your face in his chest.

“I’m serious - you’re brilliant at this kind of stuff.” He kissed the top of your head, “did you have fun?”

“I did, actually. It kept me nice and busy.”

“Is it too early to ask you for a Christmas one?” You pulled back slightly, looking at him with your brow furrowed.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously! I can see it now - the living room a Santa’s grotto, you in a sexy Mrs Claus costume.” You scoffed at that.

“I’ll think about it.” You answered him, tucking yourself back under his chin. Truly, you didn’t want the moment to end. Sure, you loved organising an event like this or your wedding. But really, your favourite thing about the entire ordeal was this - the moment with your lover after a success, calming down after a vivacious evening, ready to climb into bed and spent the rest of the night cuddled tightly in each other’s arms.

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

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woniehugs · 26 days ago

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The Touch of Extinction

—✧ summary: in a future plagued by a deadly virus, scientist Y/N is unexpectedly paired with the enigmatic government official, Lee Heeseung, as they work to save a fractured continent. What begins as a mission for survival transforms into an intense, forbidden connection, only to be shattered when Heeseung’s own secrets come to light. With danger lurking and time running out, the truth behind their mission and their connection unravels in ways neither could foresee. Will their shared sacrifice be enough to leave a lasting mark on the world they tried to save? This isn’t a love story, it’s a story about love.

—✧ pairing: lee heeseung x fem! reader

—✧ genre: dystopia, futuristic fiction, not really romance

—✧ warnings: mentions of blood and abuse (only brief), non-consensual sex, let me know if i missed anything!

—✧ word count: 4.3k

—✧ author’s note: putting this out here in the meantime because i’m not finished writing the next chapter for “operation: fuck sim jaeyun” yet. i wrote this for a school project, and no, i didn’t actually use y/n and heeseung’s names lmao. and also, this is actually inspired by the handmaid’s tail and manacled, so if you’re familiar of those, you’ll know.

══════*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*══════

Who would’ve thought the future would end up like this? We could never have predicted that life would slowly cease to exist.

50 years ago, in the country of Netherlands, a group of young and intelligent scientists from BioCorp worked on experiments that focused on enhancing human genetics. After much hard work, they had made vast progress, thanks to the advancement of technology over the years and took a week-long break to celebrate Christmas. However, during a hazy night on the 24th of December, the night of Christmas Eve, one of the scientists had gone inside the laboratory that contained their equipment and supplies, completely out of their mind— drunk. The scientist had accidentally knocked one of the containers used in their experiments, breaking each flask containing what seemed to him as “mystery fluid” and spilling it all over the laboratory floor.

Knocked backed into consciousness realizing what he had spilt, he panicked, and tried to clean it up before it could contaminate the entire room, but because of the state he was in, the broken flasks and test fluids had caught onto his dazed and drunken state, causing the scientist to drop on the floor, unconscious. It took 12 hours until the whole building was contaminated due to the open vents, notifying security and the other scientists about the situation.

Luckily, the scientist woke up the next day, completely healthy and well, which was a surprise. Authorities had brought him to the hospital, along with his colleagues who waited for him to wake up. While the other scientists continued working on the experiments a week after Christmas, they were stopped by the news of another colleague’s sudden death in the comfort of their own home, exactly a month after the laboratory incident. Days after, the scientist’s own wife was laid to rest on her deathbed, a month after she had made contact with her husband who had gone home from the hospital. This prompted BioCorp into a mass crisis. Taking multiple hours of rigorous research, studying, and hypothesizing, the scientists discovered that the incident had caused a new infectious virus to erupt. …Infectious, how? With the knowledge of the deaths of the scientist and his wife, the scientists concluded that the virus was transmitted by skin-to-skin touch and that the virus’s effect didn’t accelerate despite how much one has touched another infected person.

By the time the scientists had made this horrible discovery, hundreds and thousands of people had died in the lower parts of Europe. The virus had spread rapidly, with no one knowing who had it or didn’t. There weren't any symptoms showing and one could only know they had caught the virus when they had taken their final breath. The moment the Dutch government was made aware of this tragedy, they took in scientists from BioCorp, while in the meantime, putting the whole country on lockdown to protect the people from the virus and could conjure a cure. They supplied the scientists with everything they needed for their research, but as they did so, many Europeans died at their expense, the number of deaths increasing with every single day that passed. Choked up by guilt, the scientists persevered, but even so, they still had little knowledge of what they could do to solve the pandemic they had caused, and some died never seeing the day they could fix this mess.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and months turned into years, the European population dropped to an all-time low. Due to the pandemic, the continent of Europe was divided into two: the Eastern and Western Parts. A boundary was placed, dividing the Netherlands, Germany, France, Italy, and more countries in the eastern part, from the entire western part of Europe. A military base was placed upfront on the boundary to prevent anyone from trespassing. This sent the Netherlands government into turmoil, as the situation had not been handled well years prior, affecting their neighboring countries, most especially their own population.

The division wasn’t enough to make anything but a benefit. Soon, the governments of each country worked together and came up with a repopulation effort, a program attempting to revive the dying population. Women, from the lower class, and the ones who are single will be assigned to men and will bear children for them. Whether the men have wives and children is out of the question, they will still have to participate in the program. They will be monitored frequently by authorities if they have done the job, if not, a punishment shall be done. The selected women were quarantined in a prison-like building, yet still being fed well. However, because of how many of them were trying to escape the hell they had to go through, having to bear children they didn’t want with men they didn’t even know, the government grew strict and eventually became a totalitarian regime. For all the women, it was hell on Earth.

Y/N L/N, the daughter of one of the scientists who took part in the failed experiment, and followed in the footsteps of her parents, happened to be a part of the selected women for the repopulation program. With your last name at the forefront of people’s minds, “the daughter of one of those evil scientists who caused this animosity”, you get assigned to one of the higher-ranking government officials in Europe.

On your first meeting, you had been dragged by the authorities, hair secured in a bun at the base of your neck, wrists manacled behind your back, lip busted, one of your cheeks bruised purple, and your face bloody fighting off the authorities. You wore a robe as white as snow, streaks of your blood painted the areas near your waist, a skirt spreading down to your feet, and long sleeves covering your entire arms.

Screaming at the top of your lungs to let you go, the authorities pushed you until you fell to the ground, your face first hitting the ground with a loud crack. You heard the door close behind you, clicking with a lock as you groaned in pain, tears falling down her face. As you slowly tried to stand up from the ground, you hear a chair creak, someone standing up from their seat. You look up, coming face to face with the man you had to endure. Lee Heeseung, the son of the prime minister of the Netherlands. He had an unreadable look on his face, his eyes dark as he examined you carefully, looking you up and down. Filled with disdain, you gathered enough saliva and spat at his feet, a drop of spit landing perfectly on his polished shoe.

Before you could get any more disrespectful, you were brought up to your feet, Heeseung’s hand gripping your forearm as you yelped in pain. Dragging you across the room, he turned you around and pushed your body down on his desk, pressing your manacled wrists behind your back with one hand. You struggled to get out of his grip, trying to kick him but to no avail. He was too strong, and so much taller than you. You feel tears prickle on the corners of your eyes, one side of your face scraping against the wood of the table.

With your eyes shut, Get this over and done with, you think to yourself, hope slowly leaving your body as you count down the seconds until he is done with you. Barely 5 minutes had passed until he stopped moving, and as swift as a fox, backed away from you. You felt your wrists free from the manacles, and planted your palms on the table, slowly guiding yourself to stand up and turn to face him, but before you could utter a word to him, he was gone. Uncontrollable tears fell from your face then. You felt pain, disgusted, and used. Your whole world had been reduced to a room where you’d be forced to do things you didn’t want to do, and that hurt you. You could do better things than this. But no. For now, you fall back down on the ground, your body sprawled out on the floor as sleep takes you in.

You wake up the next day on a bed and in a room you don’t recognize. This wasn’t where I was yesterday, you think to yourself. Looking to your left, you see a doctor scribbling on his notebook with medical equipment laid out on a small table on top of the bed. The doctor notices you, a sad smile on his face, “How are you feeling, dear? You passed out on the floor yesterday and Mr. Lee had to carry you to your bed.”

Confused, you shake your head, “After being forced to do things against my will? Yes, I believe I’m feeling a lot better.” The doctor lets out a sigh, letting you drink your medicine before leaving your room quietly. You take in your room. It was huge and filled with everything she needed to survive this hellhole. Keeping yourself busy, you took a shower, changed into clean clothes, and read. There was a long shelf of books at the side of the room, so you grabbed everything that caught your eye. You read, and read, and read until you couldn’t anymore.

Food was served by two maids during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. When you asked if you could get out of your room, one of the maids answered that you needed to rest and could only get out the next day as said by their master. Rolling your eyes, you nodded your head, grabbed the dinner from their hands, and sat back on the bed. As you ate, you thought about how grateful you were that Heeseung hadn’t gone into your room and took advantage of you again. Peacefully, sleep takes you in once again when you finished eating.

The third day. “It’s not so bad here”, you think — yet. While you ate breakfast on your bed, the door opened. Your eyes looked up to see Heeseung close the door behind him. You feel your heart race, dropping the utensils on the plate. The sound catches Heeseung’s attention, quickly looking at you to see what’s wrong. He takes a few steps towards you but you raise a hand to stop him. “N-not yet.” you managed to speak out despite your voice and hands shaking. Heeseung shakes his hand, and continues his way toward you, “I’m not here for that. Not this early, at least.” Releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you nod at him in relief, picking your utensils up to continue eating. You feel his eyes on you the entire time, hands trembling.

“I wanted to let you know that you can come out of your room now, anytime you want.” Heeseung starts, “However, I expect that you’ll be back here by 6 pm. I have duties I need to attend to later that night, so we’ll have to…” he clears his throat to get his point across, “...do it, before I leave. Is that okay?”

“It’s not like I have a choice. You’ll do it anyway.” you hear his breath catch at that.

“How frequently does this have to happen?”

“Once every two days.”

“What? Who do they think we are? Rabbits?” you try to joke but Heeseung’s face remains expressionless. “I have something to ask from you. It’s the least you can do for, erm… me.” You cringe at your words but proceeds nonetheless when Heeseung doesn’t say anything. “I need a laptop so I can research, and books and studies on anything that could help me on knowing more about this virus. I can’t not do anything here but bear your children, the thought disgusts me as it is.” you explain, your tone desperate. “That’s all I ask for. I’ll do anything you wish, just let me continue my research. Please.”

Heeseung nods his head, “Of course. I’ll provide you with everything you need.” you thank him. He hesitates for a bit before returning to the door, about to leave. Before he does, he looks back at you, “I apologize for how I acted before. I had just been made known about you that day, and I acted… out of remorse. I’m sorry.” you nod your head at his apology, “It’s quite alright. I acted irrationally too. I was scared.”

“We all are, aren’t we?” Heeseung replies, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips. “Let me know if you need any help with your research. I’ll see you tonight.” The door shuts close behind him, leaving you alone in your room. That night, Heeseung visits you in your room, only this time, he acts gently and — you let him. Your business was finished as quickly as it had started. When you fall asleep in his arms, he carefully positions you back on the bed, covering you with a blanket, and delicately pats your forehead. Once Heeseung is sure that you are deep into your slumber, he leaves.

You immediately rise from your bed to start your fourth day with some research. A stab of pain erupts from your abdomen, making you groan in pain. You slowly get up on your feet, to the chair in front of the desk placed on the right side of the room. The moment you sat, you noticed a stack of books placed neatly on the table and your very own laptop that you were sure you left behind at home. You smiled at the effort that Heeseung had put into making sure you had everything you needed. Shaking your head, you began as you took a bite of mango and chocolate toast specially made for you. Hours passed and you were able to read most of the information you had already known: about the incident years ago, the non-existent symptoms, the lockdown, your parents along with other scientists locked away and dead, and the division. Searching on the Internet, most of the articles you came across were more on people’s predictions and not based on scientific evidence. That was all you did that day. Research, read, study, and make your hypotheses. — Why aren’t there any symptoms? you think to yourself. It was the most bizarre thing you had known, it was a virus with no symptoms. No wonder everyone was dying around you because, to this day, no one had found the answer to that question.

“I see you’re still up.” A voice interrupts you from your reading, dropping your highlighter on the book she was reading about viruses. You had been so distracted you didn’t even hear Heeseung enter your room in the first place. “I can’t seem to figure this out on my own. I’ve been reading for hours.” you answer, rubbing your temples with the pads of your thumbs. Heeseung hums behind you, taking a peek at what you were reading. “What I’m about to tell you might help.” you turn your head to him, “I’ve been feeling some strange sensations. My head’s been feeling light since yesterday. I’ve taken some painkillers but it doesn’t seem to go away.”

Your eyes widened in shock, “A-are you implying you’ve caught the virus?” Heeseung shakes his head, “No, or wait, maybe a little. I’m not so sure honestly. But seriously, anyone could have caught the virus by now, even indoors. We’ve also already made skin-to-skin contact. Shouldn’t we not be surprised about that possibility?” You think carefully before answering him, “I’ve never thought about that, but you’re right. Anything could happen.” But I don’t want any of us to die. A few moments pass before you clap your hands together, bringing Heeseung’s attention back to you, “You’re right. I’ll keep that in mind, just in case, however, it doesn’t mean you have the virus.” you send him a look that makes Heeseung sigh, “Right, but I just thought I should tell you.”

“And you didn’t do anything wrong by telling me. I appreciate it, Heeseung. Really.” you assure him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Heeseung looks you dead in the eyes when you do, and you quickly put your hand away once you realize. “Right. It’s getting late. You should be going. I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleep tonight.” Heeseung didn’t end up leaving you that night, and it wasn’t entirely his choice. He stayed with you until you fell asleep on your desk, and he carried you once again over to her bed. Half-asleep, you manage to pull Heeseung towards you, whispering “Stay with me.” and Heeseung does, falling asleep next to you.

The next morning, you woke to the sound of soft breathing beside you. You blinked, momentarily disoriented, before realizing Heeseung was still in bed with you. The realization brought a mix of emotions—confusion, and fear, but also a strange comfort you hadn’t expected. You gently removed yourself from his embrace, careful not to wake him, and moved to the desk where you had been working the night before. Your thoughts were swirling with everything Heeseung had revealed to you. His admission about the strange sensations he had been feeling gnawed at you. If he was indeed showing symptoms, this could be the breakthrough you had been desperately searching for—a lead that could explain the virus’s behavior. You needed to gather more data. If Heeseung truly was infected, how much time did he have left? How much time did you have left? If Heeseung was infected, then that would mean you were too. You both didn’t have much time left.

You pulled up a document on your laptop and began typing down everything you remembered from Heeseung’s account. You noted the onset of his symptoms, their progression, and any possible environmental factors that might have contributed to his condition. If you were going to make any progress, you needed to treat this as a case study—methodical, detached, and purely scientific. The hours slipped by, and when Heeseung finally stirred, you had already compiled a preliminary report. You turned to him as he sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. His expression was unreadable as he glanced at the clock, noting the late hour.

"How are you feeling?" you asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Heeseung frowned slightly as if considering the question. "A little better, I suppose. The lightheadedness hasn’t completely gone away, but it’s manageable. Why? Are you worried about me?"

You hesitated. "I’m just trying to understand what’s happening. If you’re showing symptoms,” You hesitate finishing your sentence, “...if I’m showing symptoms, it could be critical information for my research. But more importantly, I don’t want anything to happen to you."

Heeseung’s eyes widened at your words. "You think you’ve caught it too?” you nod your head, “It’s plausible since we’ve been together… for the past few days.” You cringe at your choice of words, “So it’s best that I entertain the possibility. If we both don’t have much time, we should stay here until we’ve figured this out. Together.”

His gaze softened, “I agree. I appreciate what you’re doing. I didn’t expect you to care so much, given the circumstances."

You shrugged your shoulders, "I may not have a choice in this situation, but that doesn’t mean I’m heartless. We’re both victims of a system neither of us controls." He looked away, a muscle in his jaw tightening.

"The world has gone mad, hasn’t it? People reduced to numbers, in a repopulation program, and those responsible for the mess are either dead or hiding behind closed doors." You sighed, feeling the weight of his words. "We’re trying to survive in a world we barely recognize anymore. But if there’s even a chance that what we’re experiencing could lead to a solution, we have to pursue it." Heeseung nodded slowly. "Then let’s work together on this. If we’re both infected, we need to know how it’s progressing and what we can do to stop it … if anything."

Over the next few days, you and Heeseung settled into a strange routine. During the day, you focused on your research, cataloging Heeseung’s symptoms with clinical precision, while also poring over your parents’ old notes and the limited data available on the virus. Heeseung made sure you had everything you needed, from medical supplies to access to secure networks that could aid your research. At night, you did what you had to. The only difference is that afterward, the two of you shared a bed, a tenuous bond formed out of necessity, and a growing, unspoken understanding.

Heeseung continues to visit you daily, and with every visit, you sense that he is hiding something. There’s a restlessness in his eyes, a kind of weight that he carries with him each time he steps into your room. One night, as he sits at the edge of the bed, a quiet question slips from your lips before you can stop yourself.

“Why are you doing this, Heeseung? Why did you bring me all these things when you could have just kept me locked away like the others?”

He looks at you, a flicker of something like regret in his gaze. “Because, Y/N… I owe it to you. I owe it to everyone who’s been affected by this virus. My father and his colleagues may have failed, but I… I won’t. If there’s any chance you could help find a cure… I’ll give you everything you need.”

His words stir something deep inside you. You can’t decide whether it’s hope, resentment, or both. You’re still unsure whether to trust him, but as days turn into weeks, you notice a subtle shift in the way you interact. There’s a tension that lingers between you, unspoken but palpable—a tension that is not entirely borne of fear or obligation.

As time goes on, you and Heeseung start to talk more. He tells you about his childhood, about his strained relationship with his father, about the weight of expectations that had always loomed over him. It’s not much, but it’s enough to remind you that, like you, he’s just a person caught up in the chaos of a world turned upside down.

One evening, as you sit together in silence, you find yourself blurting out, “What if this virus can’t be stopped? What if we’re all just… delaying the inevitable?”

He meets your eyes, his voice soft. “Then we fight it anyway. Because that’s all we can do, Y/N. We fight until there’s nothing left to fight for.”

You don’t respond, but his words echo in your mind long after he’s left the room.

The next evening, as you sat together, you noticed a slight tremor in Heeseung’s hand as he passed you a cup of tea. Your heart sank, but you kept your expression neutral. "Heeseung," you said softly, "Have you felt any other changes? Anything new?" He shook his head, setting the cup down with more care than usual. "Just the tremor. It started yesterday, but it’s not too bad. I can still control it for the most part." You bit her lip, your mind racing. "We need to accelerate our research. If the virus is progressing, we’re running out of time." Heeseung nodded, his expression grim. "I’m with you, Y/N. Whatever it takes."

Weeks pass, and the once suffocating atmosphere of your confinement begins to change. The tension between you and Heeseung continues to grow, evolving into something more complex. Conversations that once revolved around the virus and research now include moments of shared silence, subtle glances, and small admissions. There’s an unspoken understanding between you, as if the mere act of surviving together has created a fragile bond. You can sense that he’s struggling with something more than just the weight of the world outside—something personal that he hasn’t yet shared.

Days after, the usual routine is disrupted when Heeseung arrives later than usual, his expression troubled and distant. You notice his hands shaking as he sets down a tray of food. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, he steps closer, his voice low and strained.

“There’s something I need to tell you, Y/N. It’s… it’s about the virus.”

Your pulse quickens as you watch him take a seat across from you, his head bowed as if weighed down by a burden he can no longer carry alone.

“My father wasn’t just one of the researchers involved,” he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. “He was one of the first to become infected. They kept it a secret, covered it up because of his position, and… they used him as a test subject for the early trials of the cure.”

The revelation hits you like a cold wave, leaving you speechless. The pieces begin to fall into place—the rushed experiments, the hidden agendas, the urgency in Heeseung’s actions. You feel a pang of anger for being kept in the dark, but it’s quickly swallowed by an unexpected sense of empathy. Heeseung’s determination to find a cure isn’t just about the greater good; it’s personal.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you ask, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and understanding.

“I didn’t know how,” he admits, his gaze finally meeting yours. “And… I didn’t want you to think that I was using you for the same reasons they used him.”

For a moment, the room is silent. You look at Heeseung, seeing the torment in his eyes and recognizing a kind of vulnerability that you hadn’t allowed yourself to acknowledge before. It’s as though, in sharing his secret, he’s offered you a glimpse of the person he is beyond the government official, beyond the virus. And perhaps, you realize, it’s the same for you. This whole time, you’ve been hiding behind the walls you built around yourself to survive, afraid to let him see the parts of you that long for connection in this cold, fragmented world.

“You could have told me,” you say softly. “I would have understood.”

Heeseung gives a faint, bitter smile. “I didn’t know if I could trust you to understand, or if you would see me as just another monster.”

Before you can respond, a wave of emotion sweeps over you, and without thinking, you reach out and touch his hand. It’s a small gesture, but it’s enough to break down whatever was left of the barrier between you. His fingers curl around yours hesitantly, as if he’s not quite sure if he should accept the comfort you’re offering, but then his grip tightens, and you realize just how much he needed it.

The days that follow are marked by an unspoken shift in your dynamic. The tension that once existed has transformed into a closeness that you’re both wary to acknowledge, and yet neither of you can deny. When he’s with you, the air feels warmer, the silence less suffocating. But in the back of your mind, you know this fragile connection is built upon the uncertainty of a world ravaged by disease—a world that could take everything away in a heartbeat.

It’s in this closeness that you begin to notice Heeseung showing signs of fatigue. He tries to hide it, but you see the subtle winces, the way his hand trembles when he thinks you’re not looking. The truth becomes impossible to ignore when, one night, he collapses in front of you, a fever burning through his skin.

“Heeseung!” you cry, rushing to his side. As you help him to the bed, the realization hits you with a brutal clarity—he’s infected.

The weight of the situation crashes down on you like a tidal wave. Everything you’ve come to understand, every unspoken moment between you, is now overshadowed by the one thing you feared most. Heeseung is dying, and you don’t know if there’s any way to save him.

The next few weeks were a blur of research, testing, and increasingly frequent moments of quiet despair. You were relentless, pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion as you combed through every piece of data you could find. You reached out to the few remaining scientists who had survived the initial outbreak, sharing your findings and seeking their input. But the virus remained an enigma, its origin rooted in the nightmarish accident that had taken place decades ago. The more you learned, the more you realized how little you knew, and how close you all were to the edge.

As Heeseung’s condition worsened, you felt a growing sense of urgency. The lightheadedness had evolved into dizziness, the tremors into violent shakes that left him bedridden for hours. You continued to document everything, but your fear for him, something you had tried to keep at bay—began to overshadow your scientific detachment.

Then, one night, as Heeseung lay in bed, his breathing labored and his skin pale, he reached for your hand. You took it, feeling the tremor in his grip, and held on tightly.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Don’t be," you replied, your throat tight with unshed tears. "We’re doing everything we can."

He managed a weak smile. "I know. But if this is it...if this is the end...I want you to know that I don’t regret these last few weeks. I’m glad we met, even if it was under these circumstances."

You swallowed hard, unable to find the words to respond. Instead, you leaned in and kissed his forehead, your tears finally spilling over, with Heeseung sharing an embrace.

"I’ll keep fighting," you promised. "For you, and everyone else. I won’t let this be in vain."

Heeseung closed his eyes, his hand tightening briefly around hers. "I know you will."

In the early hours of the morning, Lee Heeseung took his final breath. You stayed by his side, holding his hand until it grew cold. When the sun rose, you gently released him and began writing down the final stages of his symptoms, your tears blurring the words on the page.

Two days later, your symptoms began to manifest. You felt the same lightheadedness Heeseung had described, followed by the tremors. But you didn’t stop working. Every moment you had left was dedicated to your research, to the hope that your final notes might contain the key to stopping the virus.

When the end came for you, it was peaceful. You had finished your last entry, detailing the progression of the virus within yourself, and had left instructions for the remaining scientists on where to find your work. You lay down on the bed you had shared with Heeseung and closed your eyes, a sense of calm washing over you.

Your body was discovered a day later by the authorities, just as Heeseung’s had been. The room was quiet, save for the hum of the laptop that still displayed your final research notes.

On the desk, beside the neatly stacked books and papers, laid a single handwritten note:

"To whoever finds this, remember us not just for what we did, but for what we tried to do. The virus may have taken our lives, but it will not take our legacy. The answers are here. Please, finish what we started.”

Signed,

Y/N L/N

And with that, Y/N L/N and Lee Heeseung’s story came to an end, but their fight continued on in the hands of those who followed.

══════*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*══════

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jobean12-blog · 4 months ago

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Can't Help Falling

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female!princess!reader

Word Count: 1,748

Summary: The more time you spend with the General, the more you fall in love.

Author's Note: I love (and hate for them) the idea that they have to be sneaky all the time and the library is a place of escape for them both so I thought having something a little extra naughty but also sweet would work. The poem I used in this story can be found HERE. You can read more about Catallus if you like. The library I'm referencing is the Ulpian Library and you can find info on it HERE and HERE. I'm pretty sure my timelines are all wonky but we can just pretend it all works out bc yay fanfic! 😁

Warnings: it's soft and sweet, semi public sex, fingering, oral (male rec), a lovely poem and a pretty library.

Marcus Acacius Masterlist

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

With silent footsteps you hurry across the stones, passing the Colosseum as it towers above you and blots out the brightest rays of the setting sun. The streets of the city are still very much alive with crowds but as you get nearer to the Forum of Trajan their voices start to fade and the warm breeze carries only the sounds of singing birds.

The Ulpia library is the same as you remember with long columns lining the courtyard and natural light filtering through every open space. There are people walking slowly along the walkways, books in hand and completely oblivious to your presence.

Even now, though you’ve spent such time together and watched him train and fight, it still feels like the breath rushes out of you when you see him. He stands taller than everyone around him, and as his dark eyes scan the courtyard, you take the time to enjoy him.

His tunic drapes across his broad shoulders, showing off his arms and legs and the ornamental stripes show off his status as General. He wears nothing on his head today and his curls blow freely in the breeze, giving him a slightly more relaxed look that makes you smile.

He turns and finds you then, standing and staring until you drop your chin under the intensity of his gaze. When you look up again, he smiles and discreetly crooks a finger at you, beckoning.

As you draw closer, he whispers, “you were staring Princess.”

“And you were not?” you shoot back, enjoying how his eyes sparkle with mischief.

Footsteps approach and you grow quiet, feigning interest in the architecture around you. A man passes by and greets the General before his eyes fall on you.

You’re recognizable even under your cloaked disguise so you quickly turn away and play shy.

It seems to appease the man and he walks off with his book.

“I have not visited this place in too long,” you tell Marcus.

With a quick look around, he gently presses his palm to your lower back and leads you deeper into the library.

“I figured as much,” he answers.

When you enter the main library room the smell of parchment and dust assaults your senses, and you breathe in deeply.

Marcus smiles and takes your hand, leading you to one of the niches where hidden inside there is a bookcase lined with scrolls and books. He plucks one from the collection and continues walking, tucking you both behind one of the floor to ceiling columns.

The bookcases press in on you from both sides and the tight quarters force you closer to him.

“Have you read any poetry by Catallus?” he asks.

“Not much,” you admit.

Anticipation spreads along your tingling skin when his lips meet the shell of your ear and he whispers, “not much…or not any?”

When you meet his eyes, he has his answer.

“He’s most known for his words on romance and love…”

You reach for the book, but he keeps it from you, his smile growing as confusion takes over your expression.

“We are going to read it here.”

“Here. But Marcus…”

“And you are going to read it to me.”

You swallow heavily, but when his palm flattens against your cheek and his warmth spreads along your skin you breathe him in and lean into his touch.

“I would have you laid out on my bed reading each and every night but given our circumstances, this will have to do.”

“Just reading General?”

His jaw clenches and his fingers press into your skin before he drags your mouth up to his. The book is smashed between you when he hauls you closer and kisses you with such urgency it steals your breath.

“One night very soon you will be mine and I will have you not out in the open with the fear of being caught but in safety where I can hear every sound of pleasure that I draw from these beautiful lips.”

The calloused pad of his thumb runs along your lower lip and his eyes wander over your features.

“Stunning,” he whispers.

Your breathing is heavy, and you grab his wrist, steadying yourself.

“Marcus,” you purr. “I fear I no longer care who hears or sees, I need you. Each night is torture.”

Because of the tall niches of bookcases surrounding you, you’re invisible from across the room, but if anyone were to walk down from the other side of the library, you would be exposed.

He bends to kiss you, starting with the corner of your mouth and humming at the contact.

“You know I could never allow that. I despise even the idea of any other man laying eyes on you.”

He turns you to face the rows of scrolls and reaches around you to open the book, stopping at a specific passage, and then moves your hand to hold it open. His finger points to the title: “Come Live With Me and Be My Love.”

“Read,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.

You tongue wets your lips before you start:

“Come live with me, Lesbia, and be my love, And ignore the wagging tongues Of wilted crones and toothless geezers..”

His large hands ran up beneath your tunic, over your hips and across your stomach.

“You are so soft,” he murmurs into your neck.

Your words stutter and he stops his ministrations.

“Princess,” he orders.

You continue, willing your voice to stay steady.

“Suns rise and set, rise and set again, But we, when our brief light is blacked, Must sleep forever, and then forever.”

One of his hands smooths down your side and between your thighs. He teases the wetness he finds there, hissing out a curse when you spread your legs wider for him.

You try to focus on the words in front of you, blinking down at the book.

“Focus,” he whispers.

“So kiss me, Sweet, and kiss me plenty: First a thousand, then a hundred kisses; Then catch your breath and kiss me more: Another thousand, another hundred…”

His lips meet your neck, and at first he presses them softly against your skin then more firmly at your pulse point where he feels the hammering of your heart.

Without any warning he slips a finger inside you and starts to pump it slowly in and out. You groan, needing more and pushing onto his hand.

“Quiet,” he reminds you.

His drags his finger out and teases your clit with small and focused circles.

“Keep reading Princess.”

“I cannot,” you whimper as your hips roll. “I just…Marcus, please!”

“You can,” he says simply and pushes two fingers inside you. “Or we can stop.”

You begin reading again in a tight, stuttering cadence that drives him crazy.

“Still thousands yet till we've lost all count And must begin again, keeping Envious others guessing the sum Of how many kisses much we love.”

You string the words together and although they’re filled with a soft tenderness it does nothing to quell the heavy feeling of lust that rushes through you.

“Touch yourself,” he demands.

“Marcus,” you gasp and the book slips from your fingers.

With shaky trepidation you reach down between your legs and rub his hand brushing against yours as he pushes his fingers in and out of you.

Your legs shake and you squeeze around his fingers, your cry of pleasure muffled when his free hand covers your mouth.

When your muscles stop trembling, he keeps his fingers buried inside you and stifles his moan with his mouth pressed to your neck.

The library is now completely silent, and you realize you have no idea how loud you had been. Did you whisper each word you read? You were so completely lost in him you had no idea.

He pulls his fingers free, releasing a quiet grunt, and turns you to face him.

His lips meet yours in a desperate kiss and when you reach down to take him in your hand he sucks in a breath.

“Princess?” he asks, his eyes dark.

“It is my turn to touch you. Please Marcus.”

As if your name on his lips is his undoing, he releases you and places his palms flat on the bookshelves in front of him.

You drop to your knees, and he trembles.

“Remember, you must be quiet,” you warn with a mischievous grin.

He sucks his teeth when your hand circles around him and gently glides along his hardness. He waits, fingers digging into the wooden shelves and chest heaving, until you wrap your mouth around the tip of him.

Whatever string of words leave his lips are unknown to you and when the first taste of him hits your tongue you moan and take him deeper.

He keeps his eyes locked on you, imprinting the image onto his brain. His hips begin to rock, and he slowly pushes himself deeper, clearing trying to restrain himself.

You roll your tongue and use your hand, pumping and sucking as much of him as you can until he’s groaning a warning above you, the rhythm of his hips stuttering and slowing as he spills down your throat.

When you release him it’s with reluctance and only because he gently takes your arm and drags you up his body. He stares at you and your swollen lips then kisses you hard enough to have your back hitting the bookshelf behind with a thud.

He instantly slides his hand along the curve of your spine in a soothing manner, the only apology he can manage without breaking away.

“You are spectacular,” he breathes against your lips. “I would keep you here with me forever.”

“But I must go,” you say quietly. “My father will surely know of my absence should I stay any longer.”

He nods and reverently brushes his thumb across your cheek before stepping slowly back.

You’re nearing the exit of the library when he reaches for your hand and pulls you into a darkened alcove.

“Just one more,” he murmurs, right before he brings his lips to yours.

It’s soft and sweet and he lingers, not wanting to be the one to pull away.

“A thousand kisses will never be enough,” he whispers against your lips.

You swallow and meet his eyes again, sweeping your fingers through his messy curls.

He presses his hand over yours as you cradle his cheek then brings your knuckles to his lips.

“Until next time, Princess.”

@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @tripletstephaniescp

#marcus acacius x reader #pedro pascal #marcus acacius #marcus acacius smut #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x female reader #marcus acacius x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius x princess!reader #general marcus acacius #gladiator 2 #gladiator 2 fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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minty364 · 10 months ago

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DPXDC Prompt #61 Part 5

There were two new arrivals to the dining room. Both with black hair but one of them had an odd white stripe, the stripe reminded him of his hair in ghost form.

The one without the stripe sat next to Tim and the other one sat next to Danny.

“You weren’t kidding when you said they looked identical,” the guy without the stripe said, “Names Richard Greyson, but you can call me Dick”

Dick had a bright smile on his face, it was clear he was a morning person.

Damian made another ‘Tt’ noise at his introduction.

The guy with the stripe in his hair grunted in agreement before holding out a coffee mug for Alfred, who was already standing next to him ready to pour. He took a swig before speaking, “Names Jason, you may look alike but seeing Damian eat meat, even from an alternate universe is weird.”

Danny took a bite of his bacon and swallowed like he was making a point before speaking, “I go by Danny, I faked my death years ago, as far as I’m concerned we were all strangers in my world.” He started, he took a moment to think about exactly how’d he explain everything. He knew it wasn’t exactly a pretty story but he also knew from the stories Talia told him when he was younger that Bruce was all about planning ahead, so keeping information from him might not be the best way to go about all of this.

He took another bite and swallowed before speaking again, “My foster family is fine though, I have a roof over my head and food. They spend most of their time in their lab working. They study Ectology, or the study of ghosts.” Jason raised an eyebrow at this but didn’t say anything. Danny continued, “They actually succeeded in building a portal to their realm, the realm of ghosts, or Infinite Realm as we call it.”

“We? You say that like you're one of the ghosts” Tim asked laughing a little bit.

He quickly got silent when Danny wasn’t laughing with him.

Damian made another ‘Tt’ noise before speaking, “Clearly this imposter has lost it, ghosts don’t exist and all of this nonsense is just that nonsense.” He glared at Danny.

Danny smiled at him and it caused Damian to falter a little before he glared at Danny again.

“Yes, Ghosts are real,” Danny sighed before continuing, “Trust me, it sounds crazy but I’ve seen some crazy things in my world. Although now I’m wondering if just showing you guys would be easier… Alright I’ll show you all but know that no one except my sister knows. Secret identity and all.”

“Wait,” Dick interrupted, “Does Robin not exist in your world?”

“Robin existed but there hasn’t been a Robin since Joker murdered the last one.” Danny answered.

Everyone fell silent at that and the atmosphere got heavy. Everyone, especially Jason was giving each other knowing glances.

Danny cleared his throat before continuing, “Anyways, yes ghosts exist, unfortunately the portal in this world probably doesn’t work like my own world. It’s been about a year since I turned it on and since I was here in Gotham when they tried it in this world there’s no telling what they did after it didn’t work. Actually now that I think about it, I wonder if they exist here,” he thought about the GIW in his world and it occurred to him. If ghosts weren’t running rampant in Amity Park, they probably didn’t exist here.

He brought out his phone from his pocket and looked it up. His eyes lit up a bit at the information he found. Or more accurately the information he didn’t find. Searching GIW in this world brought zero results, so great he wouldn’t be hunted for existing here.

He let out a sigh of relief at this. He turned to everyone and they were watching him closely. He gave them a small smile, “It’s been a while since I had a moment where I didn’t have to worry about being hunted for existing.” He explained. He figured he might as well get the conversation out of the way no matter how difficult it was.

Everyone at the table was silent as they waited for him to continue. The tension was thick in the air however, you could tell that even though Danny had just arrived everyone was ready to jump to defend him, even if he wasn’t their Damian he was still part of the family even if he had just arrived into their lives. It cemented Danny’s determination to tell them the truth.

He took a deep breath and then spoke again, “The portal didn’t work at first when they tried it, I of course wanted to help so when they were away I went in to see if I could figure out the problem… Long story short, it helps to build the on switch on the outside of the portal. I’m not proud to admit that even with all of my training, there were just too many cords that even I tripped.” He didn’t have to say much else about that as their faces told him they understood what happened. He gave a dark chuckle and continued, “Yeah hurt like hell but I don’t have to worry about losing anything anymore.” He then took his phone and phased it into his chest.

The room went silent again for a moment, but it was broken by Jason who started cackling.

He wheezed for a moment before he got out, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t ready for not Damian to make a fucking pun!”

Meanwhile everyone else was still too stunned to speak. Finally Damian surprisingly spoke, “What else can you do?”

Danny smiled, this was going to be fun.

Master Post:

Last:

#dp x dc prompt #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #danny phantom #ghost prince danny #danny and damian are the same person #my asks are open #all my prompts are free to use #Even if I write these parts if you want it to go different your welcome to write your own fic #My goal with these is to spread creativity #as is my purpose on this earth

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venusdandy · 4 months ago

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God's Rival [Part 2]

[Hazbin Hotel x GN!Reader] [Platonic]

Story Summary: The Demiurge is what they decided to call you. You aren't human, angel, or demon. You're something else entirely—an enigma in each realm. The only being who had ever shown you kindness was the fallen angel Lucifer since he freed you from Heaven's prison by offering Eve the apple from your tree. You promised him a fruitful favor in exchange, but he has not asked anything from you. Until now, that is.

Chapter Summary: In the back garden area of the Hazbin Hotel, you're summoned to Hell by Lucifer's and Charlie's combined magic. You finally meet the human souls—your spiritual children, who you sensed were saying your name last evening. You're delighted to be able to aid your dear friend Lucifer in protecting his family and home from Heaven.

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader (they/them pronouns). No use of (y/n). The reader is genderless and AroAce—platonic relationships with the characters only.

A/N: I wanted to let everyone know this story is now on AO3 (VenusDandy)! I also have a tag list here if you'd like to be added.

Part 1 Part 2 (here)

Your eyes are closed as you relax in your hammock and feel the sunlight warm your soul. You're humming a song you heard from your last visit to Earth that's been unable to leave your head. The birds in the trees above you had begun to sing along.

A sudden strong gust of wind nearly knocks you off, but you're quick to grasp the sides of the hammock to help balance. You quietly laugh to yourself as you peek an eye open. One of your creations, a pteranodon, landed a few feet away from you at the lake's edge to eat some fish.

For this reason, you keep the lake closest to your palace filled with life. The amount of happiness you receive when you see your creations eating gives your soul well-needed peace. You love seeing your children happy!

Speaking of your children, you feel that familiar vibration in your soul telling you a human has mentioned your name. A side effect after Eve ate the apple from your tree was that it forever connected your soul to humankind—your spiritual children.

Four deceased humans that have become demons, a fallen angel, and the Princess and King of Hell themselves are discussing you. You feel honored that they are considering asking for your help. You mainly use your energy and time to maintain the mortal realm's chaos and observe alive human souls. You pay less attention once they pass into the afterlife since it is not your domain.

Another chuckle escapes your lips. You have been wondering when Lucifer would cash in the favor you owe him. You were beginning to believe he had forgotten. Although you would prefer to continue staying out of Hell's and Heaven's pissing contest, if Lucifer requests for you to aid him, you have no objections to that. You respect the eldest Morningstar greatly after all he has done for you and humanity.

A content sigh leaves your lips as you go back to humming. You'll indeed be summoned to Hell by Lucifer soon, so you'll use your remaining time in the mortal realm to relax.

One last time, Lucifer scrambles around the immense sigil engraved in the dirt of the Hazbin Hotel's abandoned garden. He's pretty sure he's drawn your sigil correctly; he's only ever seen it once when you emerged from the apple tree in Eden, so it's entirely from memory.

"Okay," Lucifer semi-confidently says, "Okay, I think I got it."

Alastor has a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he hums, "Hmm, try walking around it ten more times to make sure."

Lucifer huffs with a glare. "Why are you even here? There's no reason for you to be here right now!"

"Who am I not to greet our guest who will aid us in war?" Alastor says with a twirl of his cane, "As the manager of this Hotel, that is my duty!"

Vaggie quickly stands in front of everyone with her hands on her hips. "Alright, let's go over this again!"

Vaggie points to Angel, "No flirting with the Demiurge!"-then to Husk-"No sarcastic remarks that can piss them off!"-then to Niffty, "No knives or sharp things that would threaten them!"-Then to Alastor "And no making deals with the Demiurge! Got it?"

Varying agreements ring out, some more irritated than others, but it satisfies Vaggie nonetheless.

Charlie is excited and slightly nervous as she stands next to her father. Lucifer had said he'd need her assistance for the summoning ritual since it requires powerful Celestial magic. Not just anyone can summon the Demiurge.

Lucifer lets out a breath of anxiety and rubs his bare hands together. "Ready, Charlie? Do you remember what we rehearsed?" He asks with a nervous smile.

Charlie nods firmly. "Ready!"

Lucifer and Charlie then shift into their more demonic forms to channel more of their magic before twirling their arms in graceful mannerisms. Lucifer begins chanting in the ancient Celestial language, which causes the sigil in the dirt to glow golden.

Vaggie anxiously clutches herself as her gaze never leaves Charlie's form. She knows her lover is powerful and capable of protecting herself, but Vaggie can't help but worry about her. A gentle, clawed hand rests on her shoulder, causing her to shift her gaze to her left, seeing Alastor grinning down at her. He doesn't say a word, but his eyes share a confident reassurance that strangely makes her feel a bit better.

The ground beneath them all began to rumble as if an Earthquake was happening. Niffty laughs as she uncontrollably falls to the ground, but Angel quickly swoops in and holds her tightly.

Once Lucifer and Charlie finish the ritual, they take a few careful steps back to join the others.

The sigil's golden glow brightens, then dims to nothing just as quickly. The ground beneath them stills once again. Everyone doesn't move as they wait for what will happen next. . .

Before Lucifer could question if he performed the ritual incorrectly, a large blaze of golden flames twists above the sigil, causing a few surprised gasps. Within the fire, a silhouette could be seen taking form.

Strong gusts of wind swirling around nearly blow the habitants of the Hazbin Hotel off their feet. They're quick to grasp onto each other for stability, other than Alastor, who uses his tendrils of shadow to ground himself.

Once the wind finally puts the fire out, it gradually falls into a light breeze. At the center of the sigil is a deity that stands at 120 meters. A golden-scaled serpent with the head of a mighty golden-brown lion. Their eyes glow brightly and shine into Hell's eerie red sky, and their sharp teeth are a perfect white—the Demiurge's true form.

You stare down at the beings who summoned you. Your eyes land on Lucifer, who stares up at you with a nervous smile. He looks more tired than how you remember him. He slowly waves, and you roar to greet him a bit too loudly since some of the beings below clutch their ears.

You then close your eyes as you shift into your humanoid form so you can speak eye-to-eye with everyone—the sounds of bones breaking and reshaping echo around everyone grossly.

Once you take your desired form, you eagerly reopen your eyes with a giant smile. You're very excited! "Lucifer Morningstar, how have you been, my dear friend?"

Although Lucifer was surprised you called him a friend, it eased his anxiety about you being here. He clears his throat awkwardly before greeting you properly with your name. "I've been uh- I've certainly been better, but I'm still kicking. Heh."

"Happiness is not a destination; it is a neverending journey." You remark with a hum, "I hope after we deal with Heaven's aggression toward Hell that it will ease your worries and bring happiness to you all."

The fact you already know why you've been summoned surprises everyone. You were in another realm far away from them, weren't you? How could you possibly know why Lucifer summoned you? Now Lucifer's anxiety peaks again. You're far too knowledgeable, and it makes him feel you're at least 100 steps ahead of him. It could be good or bad, depending on the context of your aspirations.

You shift your attention to the Princess and send her a kind smile. "Princess Charlie, it is a pleasure to meet you finally! I've heard wonderful things about you along the grapevine, child." You reach a hand out to greet her, noticing the younger fallen angel beside her tense up.

Charlie nervously smiles back as she shakes your hand. "Oh? It's lovely to meet you as well! I've heard things- good things about you from my dad."

Your eyes crinkle in amusement. You then glance amongst the four human souls staring at you intensely; you can sense their bubbling emotions. "I thought I heard my title being said last evening."

The look of regret is visible as Angel pales. The way you phrased it doesn't sound very good, as if you knew every word discussed about you last night—or rather ever. And Angel said some crude remarks about you! Husk is a bit nervous, too, since he straight-up said you have mommy issues. Your mommy issues got you locked away for millions of years because you lashed out at Heaven! And Husk does not want to be on the receiving end of your chaos! Niffty wouldn't mind your chaos, though.

"So, that means you're aware I'd like to ask that favor of you finally?" Lucifer asks uncertainly, "I'll admit I was hesitant to call upon you since I don't know how you feel about Heaven these days."

You hum in acknowledgment. "A fair judgment, although I have no qualms about protecting Hell from Heaven. You all fought in self-defense against the exorcists." You smile at each soul, "I shall do everything in my power to aid you all, although I must warn you, Heaven will not be pleased that the Demiurge will be fighting against them once again."

With her golden heart, Charlie grabs your hands with a much calmer smile. "We won't force you to do anything you aren't comfortable with! We all will understand if fighting against Heaven isn't safe for you."

Your old heart beats with bittersweet happiness at Charlie's words. You've heard about her kind-hearted personality, but witnessing it firsthand puts it in perspective. You see so much of her father in her.

You squeeze her hands reassuringly. "I appreciate your kindness greatly, child."-you gently release her hands-"I'm afraid that once it is known that I am aiding Hell, Heaven will send their most powerful Celestial beings, ones that only Lucifer and I have fought against."

Alastor quietly hums at that. He's a lot bit egotistical, but even he must admit that sounds rather dramatic. Your eyes then meet his, making his ears twitch back slightly. You're difficult to read. Much like him, your smile hasn't faltered, though yours is more genuine than his stitched grin.

"Alastor the Radio Demon," your amused voice rings out, "Did you want to say something, my child?"

Slight unease is bubbling inside Alastor, causing his claws to tap the top of his microphone cane. He doesn't like feeling this way. Masking his nerves, he tilts his head and keeps his smile strong. "The Demiurge has heard of me? Why, I'm quite honored my broadcasts have reached your ears!"

Your eyes squint with a lighthearted gleam. "I remember your radio broadcasts from when you were alive, too, my child."

The unexpected words cause Alastor's eyes to blow wide. Alive? How much does the Demiurge know about him, exactly? He doesn't like being this much in the unknown or having this much lack of control. . .

Your attention shifts to the other three human souls. "And here we have Anthony or Angel Dust, as you prefer. Then, the former Gambling Demon Husk. And Niffty, the demon who slaughtered the first man, Adam." You smile warmly, "It is a pleasure to meet you all, my children."

Niffty giggles at the memory, not bothered by you or your information on her or her friends. "I did do that!"

On the other hand, Angel is frowning because he has a clue that you don't know him because of his career here in Hell. That you know his darkest secrets and hidden emotions from when he was alive. Now he's starting to get why Lucifer was hesitant to summon you. . .

Husk's brows are furrowed. Clearly, from just witnessing your natural form that could rival Godzilla, you're not the average soul. You already know them all, even hinting that you know of their lives as humans. Was this basic knowledge the Demiurge already had, or did you do research beforehand? Husk isn't sure, but he plans to monitor you closely.

Charlie nervously clasps her hands in front of her. She's a bit unnerved you already know everyone, but then again, for a deity like you, that knowledge is probably easily accessible.

Vaggie, not about to let your creepy knowledge of them slide, asks with a threatening undertone, "How exactly do you already know why Lucifer and Charlie summoned you? And care to explain why you know a little too much about everyone?"

Lucifer snaps his worried eyes to Maggie Vaggie. He had the same questions, but he wasn't about to go and ask them! What if you get irritated?! What if you leave?!

You smile warmly at the young fallen angel, hoping to calm her protective soul, "You must be Vaggie; it is a pleasure to meet you, child."

Her eyes squint with suspicion, and if Charlie weren't holding onto her waist so tightly, she'd have waltzed on over to you. You dodged her question!

Lucifer loudly claps his hands, bringing everyone's attention back to him. With a nervous chuckle, he says, "I know how much being summoned to another realm can zap your energy, so how about we take a moment to rest inside and get better acquainted? What'd you say?"

You nod in agreement. "I would greatly appreciate that, friend."

You look back to Vaggie, "Then I will answer your questions, child." That brings some relief to Vaggie. At least you're willing to give answers. . .

With the others following close behind, Lucifer leads you into the Hazbin Hotel, asking if you are hungry or thirsty and listing too many options. He doesn't know how posh you are and is trying his best to please you. He's so afraid of you lashing out.

You understand why Lucifer is nervous about your presence; you would also be if you were in his position. Lucifer was one of the many angels from Heaven sent to investigate your existence. He witnessed your absolute most destructive moment when you lashed out at Heaven with all you had. You don't look back on the memory of your younger self fondly, but you do not regret your choices. You witnessed Heaven slaughter your children, and you couldn't save them back then.

You want Lucifer to know he is your friend, and you will never hurt him or his family. He never hurt you or your children; you remember him protecting them.

With a whisper of a touch on his shoulder, Lucifer interrupts himself and instead looks to you. You don't say a word, but the empathetic glow in your eyes calms every worry Lucifer has about you.

Lucifer can see in your eyes that you are genuinely here to help them, to help him and his family.

With a more comfortable smile resting on his lips, Lucifer tells you, "I'll make us all pancakes!"

If Heaven plans to slaughter your children here in Hell, well, you'll just have to slaughter the angels first.

Tag List: @paastaboi @gasoline-eater @rabioa @m00nd0v3

#hazbin hotel #venus hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x platonic reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x reader #niffty x reader #platonic hazbin hotel

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razzle-n-dazzle · 9 months ago

Note

- hi ! 💌,,

ISTG you’re writing is so well done and creative I had to contain myself from like spam!!

I hope you’re still taking request and if you’re not that’s totally cool, I’ll wait ‘till next round.

Adam reincarnates in hell and oh, would you look at that? the s/o is the only one trying to help and not making him feel worse that he already is. (i just need wholesome content, exam week is killing me rn).

AGAIN, love you’re writing thx for reading so far!

ᯓ★ Let's Give This Another Shot (and not fuck it up this time) Sinner! Adam / Sinner! Reader | Drabble

‗ content / trigger warning: fluff, swearing, Adam being Adam, not proof read (we die like Adam) ‗ author's note: this is for everyone who's dealing with exam weeks, it sucks but I believe in all of you any you're going to kill those exams! (don't let them kill you!). Also thank you so much for the compliments Anon <3, I write for the people and myself, so I'm glad everyone is enjoying the crazy shit I've posted here!

ᯓ When you fall from grace, it's not a pleasant feeling; That Adam knew - or at least he thought he knew - well enough from hearing about Lucifer falling, hearing the horrific things the others whispered about it, mentioning it in passing before the thought disappeared and dispelled into the air as though Lucifer had never held a place in Heaven. As though he was nothing that what he was now, demonic figure that wore a crown made out of skeletons and bones fashioned to mimic horns. Adam never cared about the stories that were whispered, about the horrors he sometimes heard through passing, about Sera recalling how she heard Lucifer scream on the way down, about how Michael watched with horror as Lucifer tried to shield Lilith and himself, about how Gabriel heard his pleads and couldn't do anything; No one could save him from the fate that had been weighed on his shoulders as soon as he had fed the apple to Eve. And partly it was because Adam blamed Lucifer for ruining his paradise, for infecting the mind of both his (ex) wives and causing him grief and pain. Dying alone is almost just as unpleasant as falling from grace; almost.

ᯓ You see, while Adam had died alone on Earth, at least his soul went to somewhere pleasant and he was able to continue living; To make a name for himself and, he guessed, make some friends and live a rather worriless and carefree life in the clouds. He was able to have fun, rock out, and be known as the first human soul ever being able to reach Heaven - that was something not even Eve managed to do, and he took it with pride! It was his title. It was partly who he was. Maybe it was all he was. That much became more clear to him when he found himself waking up in Hell again, the stabbing pain of a dagger striking his back still their along with the weight of his wings. At first, he had thought he managed to survive the assassination attempt, that Lute had just left him in Hell on accident or because she thought he was dead. It caused some sort of pride to well in his chest, a flame that sparked his need to go boost and scream at the top of his lungs - he had survived an angelic weapon! He was immune! He was the strongest angel there was, because Sera would totally fall and die in a sad crumble after being stabbed with angelic metal! He was . . .

ᯓ And that's when Adam happened to pass by a mirror, or well more of a reflective glass on the street of Hell (as he walked, not questioning the odd ball looks he got), and that's when he saw it; What looked like a stranger to be staring back at him, engulfing and taking over his reflection like they owned it, like it was there own. That wasn't him! Well, it looked like him, he could admit that, but it wasn't as sexy or as handsome as him! The reflection would copy his movement, snarling as he did and grinning all the same. With his same fluffed up hair and piercing eyes, the reflection wore no mask yet still held the horns of his all the same; Even the way they slowly curled back before dipping down, forming and L for the gold spikes to rest at the end. The reflection wore his exterminator uniform, yet it was the darker version with the yellow having somehow been dulled and deepened and faded out all at once. His wings were still golden, still tucking at his sides from under his arms all the same, though there was no halo to accompany them this time. And Adam almost wanted to laugh, maybe it was hysteria or maybe it was disbelief, yet he watched to cry and laugh and break the glass all at once; Denying that this was his fate, being unable to stomach that he, First Man Adam, was not only double dead yet in hell. Hell! The first man cannot be in hell, he had created everyone on Earth; All of them came from his nuts and in turn all of them should be praising the fucking land he walked on because if it wasn't for him he wouldn't be here!

ᯓ And yet the Reflection looked back all the same, teasing him with a distorted grin; Like it could feel his distress in the way he curled his fist, pulling back before he slammed it against the glass. It gave a crack, a small one at first, before completely shattering. Adam could care less what shop or business had that glass, he could care less how he effected them or how he was going to be painted in Hell, because this was some crazy mistake! He was not supposed to be down here and he was not going to stand for some stupid mistake that happened because some small crazy bitch decided to back-stab him! Literally! And yet, if Adam wanted any of the answers he so desperately craved, he would have to suck in some of his pride and trudge along to the damn Hotel and talk to the residence who had taken his life. It would take him a while before he accepted such a fate, taking the chance between deciding and doing to walk along the Pride Ring before stumbling into the wrong town and being chased out by crazy demons who wanted to bite him! Maybe even eat him . . . What crazy place is this?!

ᯓ When Adam had begrudging and reluctantly knocked on the new Hotel door, which he would never admit to stopping and marveling at for a second, he would feel that ever irritating dread weigh in his stomach. Who wouldn't feel such a feeling after coming to the front door of a group of people you had tried to exterminate only, Adam didn't know how long, prior! Maybe, silently, somewhere inside Adam knew if he were in their shoes, having faced what they had, he wouldn't accept him either; He would throw him to the curb. Yet, he didn't exactly like that thought, and it wasn't very on brand, so he shoved it down and away and deep until all the could think about is: How in the hell would they not accept me? I'm Adam, I'm the first man! And yet when the door opened, allowing Adam to come face to face with none other than Vaggie, he felt that dread creep in a little. But, not enough to stop him from greeting Vaggie in a less that desirable way, "What's up Vagasaurus?" The sneering comment left his mouth, "I love what you did with the place. You know, it looks slightly less like a destroyed pile of Sh-" Yet the door would only slam in his face before Adam could finish his thoughts or his words; Leaving him standing outside, a tad awkwardly, waiting for the doors to open again. He, also, would never admit giving a glance behind him, making sure no one was standing there to watch him standing in front of the doors.

ᯓ "Vaggie, who was that?" Charlie would call to her girlfriend as she walked away from the door, coming towards where Charlie sat on the floor organizing new activities that everyone could do. All while Nifty rushed around nearby, cleaning Sir Pentious' and Dazzle's memorials in the new Hazbin Hotel. She muttered to herself quietly, not bothering Angel and Husk, who sat at the bar. "No one important." Vaggie would mumble, not being able to catch her tone before it could reveal that it was someone less than desirable. Possibly another sinner choosing a path of redemption after the last extermination! Which the thought caused Charlie to gain a burst of energy, barreling onto her feet so quickly that she knocked around the carefully organized slits of paper on the floor. Vaggie tried to protest, saying it was truly no one at the door and Charlie should just leave it alone! But she was never a really good lair, "Oh calm down Vaggie, I'm sure it's no one bad!" Charlie would grin with a wave, her hand touching the crisp and cool metal of the door handle before swinging the door back open. "Hi, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! How can I-" And yet her words fell flat as soon as her eyes were locked onto Adam's - who quickly spun around, pretending like he hadn't just been looking behind him - and was also welcomed by his light groan of annoyance. "Oh fuck me." ". . . help you." Charlie's voice flattened, dropping as her eyes widened. You know, she's never felt this shocked to see someone at the steps of the Hotel before since Alastor had came along without warning.

ᯓ "Adam?!"

ᯓ "BITCH CAN YOU NOT SHOUT MY NAME?!" Was the next words that were exclaimed out of the ex-angel, the now outcast, as he seemed rather eager to push Charlie inside of her own Hotel and walk in after; Quickly shutting the door as though there was someone outside waiting and stalking him, watching him with all their attention. "Hey no, you cannot just let yourself in here this isn't Heaven!" Vaggie was swift to march her way over to the two, seeing as Charlie wasn't doing anything to discard of Adam she might as well do it herself! No way was she going to let some two-timing exorcist angel not only push her girlfriend around yet also push his way into the hotel. Who did he think he is? And yet Charlie waved out a hand, stopping Vaggie in her tracks. There was confusion, and the two at the bar would turn their heads, before scowling seeing the fallen angel. Adam was sure he could hear Angel's accented voice loud and clear shouting out, 'oh what the fuck is this bullshit!' before Charlie began to talk to him again in a rushed fashion; One he remembered quite well during the meeting that Lucifer subbed her in for instead of coming to it himself, and he was still annoyed by her voice. "What are you doing down here? I thought you-! You know . . . " Charlie rushed out, trying to make it quick as though the others at the hotel would jump and kill Adam again with no remorse, finishing the job that clearly didn't stay permeant the first time; And, honestly, Adam wouldn't put it above anyone here to do that. Adam, who had been picking at his teeth with his pinkie finger, would turn away from Charlie and shrug his shoulders, "Yeah, well, I fuckin' did and ended up down here for some fucking reason, probably a mistake and mix up of souls. I'm sure you have plenty of those down here, pft!- I mean who else would want to stay in this charity case!-" "We're not entertaining you Adam!" Vaggie would cut off the ex-angel, causing his interest to peak over at her. Though he relaxed quickly enough, maybe too quickly seeing as Vaggie had drown out her own weapon and that . . . nasty little creature stood beside her with the dagger made out of angelic metal; Now that little one-eyed demon could give Adam the creeps, maybe even a little (lot) fright, but not Vaggie. "You know, I thought were all trying to redeem souls in this junk box of yours." Adam scoffed, quickly crossing his arms with a tilt of his head. "Are you fucking discriminating against me wanting to return to where I rightfully belong just because I was an angel before this? Wow, that's a low blow, especially for someone light you." Adam's voice dripped with sarcasm mixed with malice, maybe even still a little pride. "You literally tried killing up like- 2 weeks ago!" Vaggie would gesture to the side, as though trying to compare time to the length of her arm. "Oh shit it's been too weeks?" Adam paused, thinking about it yet drawing a blank and shrugging in result, "Shit, didn't know, pft! That shit must still be fresh for you then, huh? Well, let me remind you all that you weren't the ones who DIED!-"

ᯓ "Adam?" Your voice would slip out into the common space of the lobby of the hotel, honey sweat to Adam's ears; Filling them with a melody that could match the songs of Heaven, running down his spine with the comfort he didn't know he needed until now. But even then, you knew he wouldn't break his 'tough man' exterior until you managed to snag him along, away from the prying eyes of everyone else. "Holy shit, hey Babe!" Adam was quick, rushing past and slightly pushing Charlie out of his way to make his way over to you, over to his love. "What the fuck are you doing in a dumb like this? I thought you said you had your own fucking spot near Cannibal Town!" - It had been the only reason why he had tried traveling to that cursed town, even while knowing its residents might try and take a bite out of him or his wings. He craved for the familiarity of someone in this new world, as he had never felt this vulnerable since his first days on Eden; Earth. God's Earth. "Babe?" A chorus of confused, slightly concerned, and baffled voices followed as Adam came to your side, swinging an arm around your waist and instantly drawing you closer. You swore he was fighting off the urge to flick off the others, a casual fuck you for trying to push him off and out. You could feel their eyes as you leaned up to pepper a kiss into Adam's shoulder, to which he squeezed your waist slightly tighter, adorning a snicker upon his face. "Wait, wait!-" Vaggie started, taking a staggering step forward as her arms laid limp besides her. One of her eyebrows were cocked up, her eyes narrow, "What do you mean Babe?" Your name left her lips, "Don't tell me you're dating that fucker!" She would soon exclaim, tossing her hands out as they finally regained the life they had lost. To which you would turn towards her confused, and then remember oh yeah . . . the battle. The one you hadn't been present for though heard about through Channel 666 News; In all honesty it's why you had came here, to the Hotel, to see if you could try and get to Heaven and find Adam again - praying he didn't actually die but was taken back to Heaven to heal or was revived in some way. "Uh, yeah. Adam's my boyfriend-" You would start with a wavering smile, nerves tugging at the edge of your lips. "Oh, this couldn't have gotten worse." Angel would groan, slamming his head down onto the bar countertop, acting like a disappointed parent; Silently telling you that you could have done better. To which you placed a hand on your hip, about to tell Angel off, only to be cut off by Husk tsking and shaking his head, "I would not put you as an Angel and sexist fucker, but whatever rows your boat." His tone came off dry, uninterested, and a little hostile. And with Charlie's silence, you couldn't help but feel the weight of everyone's words a little heavier.

ᯓ And Adam noticed that, with one glance down at you and your face, his wings would flare defensively and his glare was snapped back at the other demons. He couldn't care less that they had been talking shit about him, he couldn't care less on how they saw him or the reasons they thought you could do better than him; They shouldn't care about whether or not someone was out of their friend's league if they were clearly happy with the person! That, Adam knew - or maybe he believed it more. "Hey, what your fucking mouths!-" He would start, trying to draw you away from the others. Sure, he was no longer an Angel, but he was sure as hell he could take any of them in a fight anyways! And yet, his anger was snuffed like a candle as soon as you placed your hand on his chest, gently pushing in and pushing him back. The breath of ire was caught in his throat, not even being able to reach his lungs, as he glanced down at you, noticing the spark that you had seemingly stolen right out of his chest and placed in your eyes. He knew your reservations of fighting with friends, or with anyone in general, so he couldn't help but feel pride swell up in his chest watching you stand up for yourself, for you and him: "I will not let you speak about me, nor Adam that way!" You defended, shooting a star through your eyelashes that the group; Who seemed just as taken aback as Adam had been before the warmth spread from his chest. Vaggie would scrunch her face, much more concerned that irritated or disappointed, but also all of that at the same time. Your name slipped from her lips, "You can't be serious! He's . . ." She stumbled for a moment, trying to grasp her words, "He's led genocides on Sinners all over Hell! He's like really gross and he doesn't respect people. He's a douche and a dick!-" "Dick master," Adam would correct Vaggie just to piss her off, earning a slight jag in the gut from you and a snarl from Vaggie. Vaggie, who, tossed out her hands once more, yet pointed at Adam this time, "See what I mean?!"

ᯓ "And tell me how you felt when you first lost your divinity?"

ᯓ The question lingered in the room, drifting and sticking in the air, as Vaggie stared at you with disbelief; Her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide, and her stance rigid. You noticed how Charlie grew nervous behind her, how she seemed rather uncomfortable in the atmosphere that been created in the room since Adam had arrived than you. She would place a hand on Vaggie's shoulders, attempting to comfort her, yet failed to pick out any words to say in response. "It's hard enough to leave somewhere you've called home," You would continue, frowning, "To be tossed out like you had meant nothing, like one mistake had deemed you unworthy despite everything great you have done in your life. Vaggie! . . . out of everyone, I would have thought at least you would understand something like that." Seeing as she had gone through the same process herself, yet had always had Charlie there by her side to walk through everything with. Was she implying that Adam didn't deserve the same because of what he had done? Sure it was crude and cruel, but everyone deserved another chance to mistake their wrongs and that was what this hotel was about; And you voiced such concerns to not just Vaggie but to Charlie as well. What makes Adam so much different from Lucifer, or say another Fallen Angel that managed to wind up down here? What makes him less worthy to be redeemed? What made him less of a human soul as say Angel or Alastor? Everyone fucks up in their life and as long as they're trying to better themselves, understanding what they did wrong and why it was wrong, they should be given a chance!

ᯓ It wasn't long before Charlie said that everyone should take a break, and as such you would lead Adam away from the crowd of people and up to your own room in the Hotel. You could feel Vaggie's eyes linger, you felt like she wanted to say something yet let her words fall short before they were ever given a chance. But, even if they had, you were too pent up to even discuss anything logically with her at the moment. And you think she could feel or at least tell and that's why her words fell short, yet you would never know - you're not Vaggie nor would you ever think like she does.

ᯓ You and Adam found yourselves in your bed after settling some matters, such as a change of clothing for him and whether or not you wanted to try and make the trip back to your apartment today; Luckily you had some of Adam's old T-shirts and joggers you had stolen from him from one of the few trips where Adam had snuck you into Heaven - and yet on the same note, either of you felt like going downstairs to face anyone to leave to your apartment. So, with not much to do, you set the TV on as background noise and brain fuzz as you snuggled up to Adam's side. You felt as his claws, at first, scratched gently at his side, pairing with a kiss on the forehead, and then they began to tap the flesh there; Like you were some little drum that made no noise, yet Adam continued until he switched to rubbing his thumb against your hip. "What's wrong, Adam?" Concern dripped from your lips, forcing Adam to draw his eyes away from the mindless television and down to meet you, and your eyes. He had known your attention had been up at him for a while, at first admiring his face (as you didn't get to see it much) yet it had shifted to concern the more he played with the plush flesh of your waist. He wondered if you could tell he was nervous from the start. Adam's eyes would falter and glance off to TV again, his words causing a lump in his throat as he tried to play through them; Trying to find the best combination to spew out instead of talking without thinking - vomiting whatever first came to mind and not thinking about it later. And maybe you could tell the trepidations that filled his head too; Seeing as you shifted your position from his side, pushing yourself up, and instead onto his lap, effectively blocking his vision of the television. Your hands rested on his chest, something so natural at this point yet something that still caused Adam's lungs to halt for a minute and for his stomach to flutter. Even so, he would give you a curious glance up and down, trancing the curves of your body with his eyes as he has done countless times before - yet every time, you managed to take his breath away. "If you wanted to fuck, babe, you could have just said so!" The snarky remark left his lips, meeting your amused yet disapproving face. He knew that's not what you wanted, yet he couldn't help but entertain yourself when you were basically straddling his waist; As such, his fingers would drag along the calf of your leg before his hands would trail up your thighs before tailing back down and up once more. He saw the flutter in your breath, yet you tried to keep your composure. Even if Adam was making it ever so hard.

ᯓ "Adam," You would start, your tone causing Adam to stop caressing your thighs. It stuck his eyes to yours, and he couldn't look away no matter how much his nerves pulled at him to. "I want you to know, no matter what happens . . . I'm here for you, okay? We're in this together. You're not a solo act anymore, we're a duet . . . or, well, more a duo act." Your words sunk down into Adam's skin, they infected through his lungs and ran to his heart before infecting all his blood and his veins. His hands, which had ran up to hold your waist, gave a gentle squeeze as he swallowed down the saliva that built up in his suddenly dry mouth. A duo act? Sure, he knew you two were dating, that you had been for a while, yet even then he had a silent thought in the back of his head that you would leave him, much like the others; So he never considered himself no more than what he had: A soloist. First Man Adam! . . . but now he was able to add being 'Yours' to his list with some sort of fire-like confidence; Burning and bright. It made his heart catch fire, even more so when you would stretch out lightly and lean down to lay down on his chest; Your warmth infecting all of him you touched, allowing his arms to wrap around your back and for his wings to fluff out and wrap around your frame. It was like he wanted to shield you from the world, shield you from Heaven, shield you from everyone and anything that wanted to hurt you. Sure he had the urge before, but now? . . . "You heard that big man?" Your voice broke through his thoughts, your teasing smirk had him fighting for a breath. You would playfully nudge his shoulder, "You're stuck with me, I'm stuck with you're, we're stuck together so you better be getting used to it! I'll fight for you, you fight for me, and we'll get back to that stupid place that outcasted you in the first place!" But he would like to stay here, with you, forever. "And we'll show Charlie and Vaggie that it can be done and that even if you fucked up you have a good heart in you! . . . Because I know you do under all the gunk." And your laughter had never sounded so sweet, and you touch has never felt so soft and loving.

ᯓ A duo act, huh? With you? Adam could get used to and stand behind that thought; Perhaps, even after all this time, he wanted nothing more than to hear those words, or well the meaning of those words, from your mouth since the start.

ᯓ But even then, with the emotions that swelled Adam's heart with nothing but pure love, he couldn't help but nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. Your scent filled his nose with a warmth he missed, the soft skin of your neck flushed against his smirking lips, a feeling he longed for and couldn't forget. You were perfect, you always had been! "Fuck, Babe, when you say pretty shit like that, it's hard not to fuck you right here and now." Adam would groan before a loud cackle left his lips as soon as you smacked his back. All too used to his ways, you couldn't do much yet shake your head against Adam's shoulder, like a parent scolding their child for saying something offensive. "You ruined the mood Adam!" The huff escaped your lips, it hit Adam's neck and made goosebumps spring up his arms. "Again!" And yet, you didn't protest as Adam tossed you both into your sides with a fever, still cackling as though this was the funniest joke in the world - and you couldn't deny, you loved the sound of his laughter so much. Even as his stubble would tickle your neck as he did so, causing you to start laughing soon after and trying to push his head away from your neck. "Adam! Oh my god, Adam stop that tickles!" You gasped between breaths, struggling to push your boyfriend away as he found joy in your lighthearted misery. Though he would only curl around your frame, not answering your desperate calls of a truce and a stop, and trap you in his arms and wings with no remorse. "You're stuck with me Babe, you said it yourself! Now come here, let me kiss that pretty fucking face of yours until you can't breath!"

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janeyseymour · 9 months ago

Text

Secrets

hi! so, an anon asked for this. i had a LOT of fun with this one, and i hope you enjoy! literally not edited in the slightest because this one wrote itself and i don't have time to read over 9k words.

summary: You're Ava's friend, and that is enough to make Melissa hate you. But then, through volunteering for different events through the school, the redheaded teacher finds that she's falling for you. You have money, not that anyone knows, and when the school desperately needs money, you anonymously donate a generous amount. Of course, the Abbott crew isn't satisfied with not knowing who donated all of that money, and they sure as hell intend to find out.

WC~9.4k

You grew up with a lot of money. You don’t even need this job- Daddy still has you covered and pays for most of your expenses, as much as you continue to tell him that you are perfectly capable of making it on your own. You have enough saved up from all of the ridiculous amounts of money you received from past birthdays, as well as high school and college graduation presents, not to mention the fact that you have a good portion of money invested into different stocks, and you’re doing pretty damn well for yourself.

Dad taught you all about personal finances when you were younger- he’s a successful day trader, but he’s always been on the financial side of business work to begin with, and Mom is a lawyer.

And while you had quite a lavish lifestyle, your parents still chose to reside in Philadelphia, and not necessarily the nice area of Philly either. But it was part of their story, and they wanted to stay close to their roots, so they raised you here. And growing up, you became close friends (maybe even best friends) with the one and only: Ava Coleman. She was your partner in crime growing up, and you never lost contact with her once you graduated high school.

You went off to school to pursue a career in education, much to both of your parents surprise- but they supported you in your decision.

(“I hope you raise the next generation to be smart,” Mom had told you. “Bring up some new lawyers for generations to come, yeah?”

“Teach those kids how to make it out alive like Ma and I did, got it kiddo?” Dad had joked with you, but you knew he was being serious.)

After years of teaching at one of the other public schools in the suburbs of your city, you decided that you wanted to come back to your roots. You miss Philly and all of the excitement that comes with it. You miss the odd odor that lingers in the streets, and the way that no one could give half a shit and jaywalked. You miss the way that you could pretty much walk anywhere, and within a few minutes you could be milling around Reading Terminal Market looking for some good eats. So you call your best friend for some advice.

“Girl, why didn’ you tell me sooner?” Ava asks you once you’ve explained to her that you want to come back to the city. “I own a school now, and I can for sure get you a job here.”

“Ava,” you sigh. “What the hell do you mean you own a school? Do you mean you’re the principal of a school?”

“Same thing,” you can practically hear your best friend rolling her eyes.

“That’s awesome,” you congratulate her. “How’d you manage that?”

“You know how I’ve been helping out at the Abbott elementary admin building with financials? Well,” she cackles into the phone. “I did some deep diving, and I found out that the super intendant of the district has been sleeping around- found hotel bills and everything on the company card for quickies. All I had to do was bring that up, and boom! I get a new title, a nice raise, and I own a school! I’ve been there for a couple months now, but there are more turnovers here than there were in the last Super Bowl, so I can for sure get you in.”

“A couple months? Has it really been that long since we last talked?”

“Since we actually caught up, yeah,” she sighs dramatically. “You and your fancy teaching job out in the ‘burbs. It ain’t gonna be fancy like that though, we don’ even got money for a proper librarian.”

“Remember, we grew up in Philly,” you remind her. “I know what it’s like. But can you really get me a job?”

“For sure,” she tells you. “With Summer coming up, I be knowin’ I’m about to get a lot of resignations from these people I thought were spicy White people but ain’t. The only spicy white lady here is Schemmenti- pretty sure she’s part of the mob, but I ain’t about to dig. We’ll have you join us next school year.”

“I highly doubt a teacher working in Philly is part of the mob,” you roll your eyes. “But if you’re serious, then yes. I would love to come work with you.”

“For me,” she corrects. “Just because we friends don’t mean I ain’t about to subject you to all of my bullshit at school- you get to deal with the full Ava experience in all its glory just like everybody else.”

“I’ve been subject to it for my entire life,” you laugh.

“I’ll reach out when I can officially accept your resume and offer you a position, but in the mean time… girl, when we getting our nails done?”

By some grace of God, Ava is able to keep her word, and you’re officially an employee of Willard R. Abbott Elementary School starting in August as a second grade teacher. You walk in arms full of boxes stacked so high you can barely see over them, not dressed in your fanciest clothes- you have a whole separate wardrobe when it comes to teaching. You know how this works- clothes will be ruined. Hell, some clothes were ruined at a nicer suburban school, so you know that some of your outfits will not be wearable by the end of the school year- or even the first week with the kids if you’re that unlucky.

“There you are, bitch!” Ava grins and runs over to you as you enter. She’s decked out in Eagles apparel, it’s all bejeweled in true Ava Coleman fashion. “I’m so happy you’re here- you boutta blow the roof off this place!”

You roll your eyes playfully but smile at her. “Can you just show me where my room is so I can start setting it up before we have to do our development activities?”

“Don’t you got people to do that for you?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I am fully capable of setting up my classroom myself- without people to move everything for me.”

“Lame,” she sighs. “I always like seeing the sexy movers your Dad hires for you.”

“I explicitly told him I didn’t want him to do that for me,” you tell her. “And I told him that if he sent people here to move stuff from my car, I would never be respected. I know how it goes around here, and so does he. So, here I am.”

The principal leads you down to your room. “All yours,” she grins as she unlocks the door.

You look around once you’ve set your boxes on the ground and bite your lip thoughtfully. You can make do with this space.

“Your team is Janine… annoying ass dork, and Melissa… mean Italian lady who is working for the mob.”

“You’re still on that?”

“Guilty until proven innocent!” Ava quips.

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “Care to give me a hand with unloading the rest of the stuff from my car?”

“Girl, I just got my nails done, and you sure as hell know I don’t do manual labor. I’m the principal now- that shit’s beneath me!” She turns on her heel. “See you in the library in an hour!”

You report down to the gym a little before everyone else to get your bearings, and to beg your best friend to not make a huge deal about you being here- specifically requesting that she doesn’t speak anything of your family or the business. You have a relatively common last name, so it isn’t like anyone would hear your name and immediately know of your family either.

“I won’ say anything about your fam, but you sure as hell know I’m gonna let them know your my bitch and they shouldn’t mess with you.”

You sulk back to your seat, dreading whatever the hell Ava is going to say about your arrival at the school.

The rest of your colleagues make their way in and take seats in their designated seats, you still lingering in the back. This way, you’re able to see some new faces, and you wouldn’t want to take anyone’s unofficially assigned seat. Once everyone is seated you join them. You can immediately pick out a few of the names that Ava had thrown out over the summer. Janine is sitting with Gregory and Jacob, and the redheaded woman is clearly Melissa. Sitting next to her is who has to be what Ava described to as, “Melissa’s heterosexual work wife and life partner,” Barbara Howard.

The principal heads to the stage and starts her greeting in true Ava fashion- telling them all how much she wishes they weren’t here and she was still clubbing it up down at the shore, but she supposes it’s okay to see them again. And then she begins to introduce the new teachers- she, of course, saves you for last.

“And finally,” she breaks out in a grin and does a little dance. “we have Y/N. Listen up: this girl is my ride or die, and even one of you steps out of line towards her, and we gon’ have problems.”

All eyes turn to you and your red cheeks, but you give a small wave.

“Now, onto the boring stuff,” Ava sighs. She drones on about the new school year and what is going to (supposedly) pan out over the next nine months before she dismisses you all to prep in your classrooms for the remainder of the day.

You make a break for the door as soon as you can, sweater wrapped around you tightly even though it’s sweltering hot in the school- apparently Mr. Johnson still hasn’t fixed the air conditioning because he forgot which Boyz II Men song he assigned to the air system. As soon as you’re in your classroom, your sweater is off and you’re fanning yourself with a paper fan you had folded for yourself.

You continue to prepare for your students until you hear a gentle knock on the door. Who is standing there but Janine and Melissa.

“Hi!” Janine grins as she steps in. “It’s so great to have you as an addition to our team, and Melissa and I just wanted to stop by and introduce ourselves! I’m Janine, and this is-” She nudges the woman next to her.

The redhead just huffs and rolls her eyes. “Schemmenti,” is all she says.

“If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to come and ask one of us. My room is just down the hall, but lucky for you- Melissa’s room is right next door to you!”

“Don’t need anything,” the fiery second grade teacher warns you. “I don’t got time for someone who’s gonna leave in a few weeks.”

You’re somewhat taken aback by her abrasive personality, but you just smile instead. “Thank you,” is all you say once Janine has hissed out a quiet, “Melissa!”

“Did you need any help at all yet?”

“She don’t need help, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “She’s got Ava on her side.” And with that, the redhead turns on her heel and leaves.

“Don’t mind her,” Janine tells you as she steps into your classroom a bit further. “She’s got a tough exterior, and she hated me too at first. But now, she’s like my work mom, with Barbara being my other work mom, of course. She even brought me lunch to make sure I eat today.”

“That’s very kind of her,” you say as you continue to set up your room.

“I like what you have goin’ on here,” your colleague nods her head in approval. “Nice and warm, kinda like my room! Well, I have to get back to my own classroom, but if you need anything, come on down! The price is right!” She laughs at her own joke before strolling down the hallway.

Your first day at school is relatively peaceful, and before you know it, you’re allowed to leave. Of course though, you do plan on staying later because you have to finish up a few things before you’ll be satisfied with the progress you’ve made.

You see Melissa leaving her classroom, and despite not necessarily wanting to, you call out a gentle, “Have a good night, Melissa.”

She doesn’t say anything in response, just gives a short nod of the head in your direction before continuing on down the hall.

As you gather your things to leave for the day, Ava shows up at your door.

“So, we goin’ out for drinks?”

“I don’t think I can,’ you sigh. “I still have a lot of stuff that I have to prep for this, and I want to make sure it all gets done before the kids show up.”

“Girl, this would all be way easier if you just-”

“I don’t need any hired help,” you cut her off because you know exactly what she was going to say.

“Well then, I’m coming over,” your friend tells you, leaving no room for arguments. “It’s been too long since I seen you, or drank some of the good ass wine I know you have at your house.”

“Be my guest,” you chuckle as you sling your bag over your shoulder.

The rest of your development days are filled with boring meetings and time to prepare your classrooms. You find yourself a part of a committee to help with funding with a nudge from Ava.

“Girl, you don’t gots to tell them how you know all of this stuff about finances,” she tells you. “But it would be a big help to have someone like you on our team.”

“Fine. But if it gets out who I come from, I’m pulling out,” you point a finger at her. “I am not about to let my father get his hands on this and try to turn the school charter like he’s done before.”

She nods. “Whatever.”

The school year starts off strong. You’ve settled into your classroom, your kids absolutely adore you, and you adore them. You’ve spent some time with the other teachers in the school, besides Melissa, during preps, lunch duties, and recess duties. They all seem to like you, and you like them too.

Still though, you find yourself coming in early and staying late in order to get as much as you can together- you know once actual classwork starts to trickle in for you to grade, your plate is only going to get much more full. So any work that you can streamline and work ahead on, you do. The time where teachers are allowed to leave is upon you, and as much as you want to go home and take a nap, you know you really should stay and continue to work on lesson plans. Maybe you should start hanging up some of the work that your students have already done- their all about me posters and drawings. With a sigh, you gather the materials you’ll need to create a bulletin board and the footstool you keep in your cabinet and make your way into the hallway.

“Oi,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she closes her door for the night. “You know that working overtime won’t make you a better teacher.”

“I know,” you say softly. “But you know how it goes your first year in a new school.”

“Yeah, I don’t miss that shit,” the redhead huffs and starts to make her way down the hall.

“Have a good night, Melissa,” you call quietly.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t tell me what to do,” she tosses over her shoulder.

Wow. This woman was not easy to work with.

The next few days continue on like this, you staying later and later in order to stay on top of everything.

On Friday, you arrive early as you always do. While it’s casual Friday, and you’re allowed to wear jeans, you opt for a flowery sundress instead. It’ll keep your body temperature more regulated than a pair of stuffy jeans would. You know you aren’t doing anything where a student could accidentally destroy this dress either, so you think it’s a safe call.

As you enter the staff room to grab your lunch from the refrigerator, you hear the redhead’s low voice.

“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she challenges you, and you really don’t know why she’s doing this.

“Hm?” you hum as you grab your salad from the shelf.

“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she repeats. “Coming in here all cozy with Ava, wearing something or than jeans on casual Friday, already having bulletin boards up… you might’ve come from a nice school bonfire, but you’re here now- adjust.”

All of your coworkers’ eyes go wide at this unprovoked ‘fight’ you’ve found yourself in, and a few of them scold her.

“What’s she gonna do?” Melissa fires out to Barbara. “Go tell on me to Ava and get me fired? Please.”

You bite your lip nervously before smiling tightly. “Have a nice lunch, y’all… and have a nice weekend if I don’t catch you before school’s over.” You leave the room with that and head back down to your classroom to eat your lunch while you pour over your lesson plans.

“Melissa,” Barbara sighs. “Y/N has done nothing to you, and you’re treating her terribly! There is no need; you are better than this!”

“Listen, she’s just another one of Ava’s minions who is going to reign hell on me during the school year. She already drives me nuts with the effort she’s putting in.”

“She may be friends with Ava,” Janine cuts in. “But I really don’t think she’s like her- she seems like she has drive and a true passion for our kids.”

“And that is what we need at this school,” the kindergarten teacher tells her friend. “We need people who are willing to put in the effort and love on these kiddos the way that she is. I already had Dante tell me during my lunch duty that he loves second grade because of her! Do not go tearing her down and forcing her out when we need more educators like her!”

“I don’t-”

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti,” Barbara pulls out the redhead’s full name, and Melissa’s eyes go wide at that. “Be nicer to the young girl. Give her a chance. You weren’t even this hard on Jacob and Janine when they first joined us.”

“And now you’re like my work mom!” the energetic teacher grins.

“You don’t even have to go out of your way to be nice to her,” the elder teacher says. “Just don’t be so harsh.”

“If I say sure, can we go back to eating lunch and talking about our weekend plans?”

Deciding that you’ve put enough hard work into this week and you’ll make sure you’re in here bright and early the day after Labor day, you grab your bag to head out on time and make the most of this long weekend. You close your door and begin to lock it just as Melissa makes her way out of the classroom.

“You’re not staying late tonight?” she looks at you with a raised brow.

“No,” you chuckle. “I figured that I deserve to have this weekend to relax after a hectic first week. But I’ll be back bright and early on Tuesday.”

“Mhmm,” the redhead hums as she fiddles with her door. “Shit,” she grumbles as she struggles to get the lock to turn.

“Do you want some help?” you ask her gently.

“I got it,” she holds up a hand. “I’ve been dealing with this damn door for the last two years. Mr. J will get around to it eventually.”

After watching her fight with the lock for long enough, you sigh and pull a bobby pin out of your hair. “Seriously, let me help.”

She steps aside, arms folded over her chest. Before you know it, you have her door locked, and you’re sliding the pin back into your hair.

“Thank you,” she mutters.

“Of course,” you smile at her shyly. “Hey, have a nice weekend.”

“You too, kid,” she tells you, and there isn’t any sort of bite behind her words. She isn’t smiling at you, but she also isn’t scowling at you.

Content with that conversation, you head for the doors and out to your car.

You make a pitstop on your way home into the Home Depot- you’’ just buy a new lock for Melissa’s door and install it on Tuesday when you get there. It’s a simple fix, and she doesn’t have to know it was you that did it.

The weekend is nice. You and Ava go out clubbing on Friday and Saturday night before nursing your hangovers on Sunday together. And then on Monday, you make your way over to your parents’ house with your partner in crime for the Labor Day barbecue they always hold. It’s a good time, as it always is. Your parents are happy to see the lively woman again, and they thank her for helping to get you back to your roots.

You’re back at Abbott bright and early- earlier than anybody else besides the janitor that lingers in the halls and doesn’t do his job.

“Good morning, Mr. J!” you greet him happily.

“Y/N,” he smiles back at you. “You have a nice weekend?”

“I did,” you reply as you make your way down to your wing. “And you?”

“Always a good time when you’re me,” he chuckles before continuing on his way humming a Boyz II Men song.

You quickly drop your things off in your room before changing out your colleague’s crappy lock. You leave the new key in the hole so she has it, and then you settle at your desk to continue working on your lesson plans and preparations.

You hear her before you see her passing by your room to get to hers.

“Hey, good morning,” you greet her quietly.

“Mornin’,” she huffs. You’ve gathered that she isn’t much a morning person- at least not until she’s had her first cup of coffee and has watched the news in the break room with her friends.

You a hear a soft, “Huh,” come from her mouth as she notices there’s a new lock on her door. “Took you long enough, Mr. J.” She has no idea it’s you that changed it. Hopefully, this starts her week of well.

Your exchanges with the Italian lady in the room next door don’t much go beyond a good morning and a good night each day as the weeks go on, but she doesn’t frown at your mere existence anymore. If you squint, you can almost see a smile. The rest of your colleagues really seem to taking a liking to you, and you’re genuinely happy that you made the decision to come work here- even if it means putting up with your best friend’s shenanigans.

Everything is going swimmingly at work until one day Ava calls an emergency staff meeting at the end of the day.

Making your way into the library, you genuinely have no idea what she could have to announce so urgently. Apparently, neither do any of the other teachers.

“You’re close with her,” Melissa falls into step with you. “You know what she’s gonna say?”

“No idea,” you tell her quietly. “I’m just praying it’s not another pyramid scheme of hers. I can’t get her out of any more trouble with those.”

The redhead looks at you curiously, but you don’t say anything else. You don’t want to admit that when Ava finds herself in legal troubles, she usually calls your mother and she helps clean up the mess pro bono.

The two of you settle into the library chairs amongst the rest of your coworkers, but Ava is nowhere to be found.

“Good lord,” Barbara mutters. “This better be worth staying after. I’m going to be late to dinner with Gerald.”

Your friend enters the library looking rather frazzled. “Hey, y’all. Listen, I gotta make this quick because I have to get to a hair appointment, but I wanted you to hear it from me before word got around: the district is trying to cut our budget, and with our budget being cut, that means they’ll cut the arts programs. I know y’all don’t want that, so start coming up with ways to get us out this mess!”

Before anyone can ask any questions, she leaves.

“What the hell?” Melissa looks angry- like really angry. Her nostrils are flared, her eyes are wide, and she’s balling up her hands into fists. “Barb, you and me to the mall. I’m gonna need a new shakedown sweater.”

With no hesitation, the kindergarten teacher follows her work wife out of the school.

That night, Ava calls you.

“Girl… you know what we have to do,” she tries to convince you to let out your secret about your wealth.

“No,” you say for the millionth time. “We are going to fundraise, we’re going to get the money so that they can’t cut it… I’ll work with Janine and the budgeting committee to see where we can make small cuts here and there to scrounge up some more money… but I am not letting my dad get wrapped up in this and be in his debts. You know how he likes to hold stuff like that over my head, and he will turn Abbott charter if we let him get involved with this.”

You work tirelessly to come up with multiple fundraisers, different presentations to bring to the district offices, and work with the budgeting committee to make small cuts where you have a bit of wiggle room. You even tell them they can cut your salary by 2% if it means a little extra money- it may not be a lot, but it’s something that you’re willing to give considering your sizable bank account anyway. You do all of this, on top of continue to work in your classroom. You’re exhausted.

You volunteer for the events that you’ve helped to organize, and so have quite a few of the other teachers.

“We are not losing the arts program,” Melissa fumes multiple times a week. “I need my prep to keep my sanity.”

“Amen to that,” Barbara usually remarks after that.

“If it means volunteering a few hours here or there for these events, I’ll do it,” the redhead tells you when you hesitantly approach her crew about helping out.

So, here you are with Melissa at the art show.

The conversation is awkward and stilted for quite some time before she finally sighs.

“You’re doing good,” she tells you. “I haven’t seen a turn out like this in quite some time.”

“Anything for the kids,” you reply. “They need it.”

“Why here?” she finally asks you the question that’s been eating at her for some time- since the first day you walked in really.

“I grew up in Philly,” you tell her. “It was time to come back to my roots, and Ava offered me a position. The stars aligned for me, and I’m quite content in my decision to be back in a city school. I can help make a difference for these guys like some of my teachers did for me.”

“For someone who’s friends with Ava, you sure have a lot more heart than I thought you would,” she admits.

You smile. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“How long you two been friends? Meet in college at the clubs?”

“Nah,” you laugh softly. “I grew up with Ava living a few houses down from me. We’ve been friends since I was the shy girl in the first grade who sat by myself at recess. Next thing I know, she’s next to me rambling on about whatever first grade drama was happening and telling me I was her girl. I still don’t know why she chose me to come up to that day. Maybe it’s because I actually listened to her. But we’ve been stuck together since that day.”

“You’re good for her,” Melissa tells you. “I haven’t seen Ava put in this much effort to something that doesn’t directly benefit her before. And I think it really does have something to do with you being here and leading a lot of it.”

“Thank you,” you smile again.

That night is where everything starts to change. Melissa slowly starts to show you the other side of her personality- the kind, would take a bullet for you if she had to side. You quite like it.

As the months go on, you still work tirelessly to put together different events to try to save the arts. Melissa even helps you plan a few, and she offers her “I know a guy” line when you’re looking for different ways to draw people in. The two of you begin to work closely in order to make sure that these events happen, and that they’re good. The redhead sees how hard you work and how driven you are. She respects it.

You find yourselves chaperoning quite a few events- choir shows, band shows, a few school dances…

And while you’re at these events, the redhead sticks by your side through most of the nights. She finds that she quite likes being around you actually. She lets you into her personal life slowly. You tell her little bits about your life while still not revealing that you come from the line that you do.

She realizes that she’s starting to fall for you- and that terrifies her to no end. But she can’t quite pull herself away from you. Not now. Not after getting to know you and see how down to earth and honest you are with what you do- not after you’ve shown her that you’re here to stay and you’re going to show up for these kids in any way you possibly can.

Finally, the biggest event that you’ve planned, and your last attempt at hitting the quota to keep the arts program around for another year (you don’t even want to think about having to go through this charade all over again next year) is here.

It’s another AvaFest kind of deal, but you’re able to utilize the outside part of your school grounds this year. Inside, there are smaller games, a few tables from local vendors, music provided by Janine’s ex-boyfriend. Outside though, is a whole other story. It practically looks like a carnival.

There’s a ball toss, a free-throw game, a balloon dart stand, a game to throw footballs through some holes, the dunk tank has been moved outside and a handful of teachers have volunteered to partake in it… all of the ticket stands and games are being run by various teachers and aides in the school. And the assortment of goodies around? Apparently, Melissa knows quite a few guys who participate in the food industry because you have a grilled cheese stand, a lemonade stand, a guy who’s making hoagies… she even knew a guy to come head a cotton candy machine for the event. And that’s not even naming all of the vendors.

You don’t have any assigned places to be because you’re overseeing that the event runs smoothly. So you’re milling about with your clipboard in hand, checking over the different stands. And while you expected Melissa to sit at the ticket table with Barbara, she follows you around and is your right hand man throughout the night. She checks in with the people that she knows, shoots the shit, and helps you solve any issues that arise through the night- not that there are many. You worked your ass off to ensure that everybody participating in this school wide event was compensated for their time and hard work.

“You really outdid yourself, hun,” Melissa comments quietly once you’ve found a moment to just stand and take it all in.

“Oh, I couldn’t have done it without everyone else helping,” you brush off her compliment. “You were a really big help, so thank you.”

“We all pitched in, but you’re the brains behind all of this,” she tells you. “Don’t sell yourself short. This jawn just might have to become an annual thing.”

“Oh, don’t remind me of what I’m going to have to pull of next year,” you groan playfully. “After this, I’m done with ideas for the year.”

“That ain’t true, and you know it. If something else comes up, you and I both know you’ll be the first one organizing something.”

“I know,” you sigh. But then you smile softly. “It’s all for the kids though. They deserve it.”

“They do,” she agrees. “And because of you, they’re gonna get it.” She gently hip checks you.

You blush and shrug.

“You got a real knack for this. If you weren’t such a good teacher, I’d tell you to go into professional party planning,” the redhead quips. She doesn’t know that you’ve been helping plan company parties with your parents for years now.

“It’s more a hobby,” you tell her. “I’m a teacher at heart.”

“A teacher with a damn good heart,” she corrects you.

“You think this is all gonna be worth it?” you ask her nervously. “Think we’re gonna hit the mark?”

“I’d put money on it,” she tells you honestly. “With the last events you’ve organized, and this one being our biggest success yet, I think we’ll exceed it.”

“God, I hope so.”

You don’t make enough money to keep the funding for the arts program. You’re devastated. Absolutely crushed. You burst into tears when Ava announces that bit of information sadly at the next staff meeting, rushing out of the room to try to compose yourself.

Melissa runs after you. You don’t really know why, but she does.

“Hey,” she comes into your classroom, grabbing a tissue on her way over to you. She gently wipes your tears away. “We did our best. You did your best. And that… is enough.”

“It isn’t though,” you choke out. “We’re losing the arts program, and those teachers are going to be let go, and I-”

“I’m sure Ava will find somewhere else for them to be placed,” Melissa tries to comfort you.

“And- and we’re going to lose our preps, and… and the kids deserve to have the arts!” you cry. “When I was in school, that was my favorite part of the day, and now they won’t be able to experience that joy!”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to incorporate it into your lessons,” the redhead tells you gently as she pulls you into a hug. “You did everything you could… but sometimes at the end of the day, life sucks.”

“It’s not fair,” you whine.

“Life ain’t always fair, hun,” Melissa reminds you. “But we do our best with what we’ve been given. And now, all the money that we raised can go into buying supplies for the kids next year.”

You sigh and wipe at the last of your tears. You take a deep breath. “Y-yeah. Okay,” you whisper sadly.

“It’s gonna be okay, hun,” she promises you. “And who knows, maybe a miracle will happen, and we’ll get to keep the programs.”

And just like that, her words give you an idea. You know how you can make a miracle happen. You have to contain your excitement as the thought pops into your head. The two of you return to the staff meeting where Ava is rambling on about who knows what, but you’re itching to get out of there.

Once you’re dismissed, you head back to your classroom, open up your laptop and log in. You check your bank account balances, and pleased with the numbers, you pull up the GoFundMe page that was up for the school.

“You’re stayin’ late again tonight?” Melissa knocks on your door, purse slung over her shoulder and sunglasses already on.

“Just a few minutes,” you look up and smile at her. “I have a few emails I have to respond to.”

“Alright,” she taps the doorframe a few times. “Try to have a good night, yeah?”

“I will,” you tell her. “You too, Melissa.”

“Thanks, hun.”

With that, she’s off, and you can go back to what you were doing. You click on the “Donate Now” button without hesitation.

You donate the first $50,000, and then another $50,000 anonymously, and you absolutely beam when you see that you’ve hit your goal and then surpassed it. Satisfied, you close out of the tabs and close your laptop. Now, you just have to wait for tomorrow morning when Ava, the organizer of the fundraiser, sees the email. You know she won’t see it tonight- she’s off the clock.

A few hours later, you get a text from your best friend.

Hey, you still holding up ok? she sends.

I’m alright, you text back. So she hadn’t seen the donations yet. I’m drinking wine right now if you want to come over.

Girl, say less.

She’s over at your house in less than fifteen minutes, and it takes everything in you to not tell her what you had done. She heads home after finishing off the bottle, bidding you a goodnight and a see you tomorrow.

You sleep like a baby that night.

The next morning, you’re back in your classroom setting up your science experiment for the day when Ava’s voice comes over the intercom.

“Attention Abbott Elementary: there is a mandatory staff meeting, right now. Start heading down to the library. That means you, Schemmenti.”

You grin as you stand back up straight and make your way for the door. Right before you exit, you put on your best neutral face.

“Damn,” Melissa groans as she leaves her room. “Tell your friend not to call me out like that. I skip on meeting, and she’s all over me.”

“I don’t control what she does, and you know that,” you chuckle.

“What do you think this is about?” she asks you as the two of you make your way down the hall.

You shrug. “For all I know, it could be that she got a manicure and wants to show it off.”

The two of you find seats at your table, Barbara arrive a few seconds later.

“What on Earth could this woman have forgotten to tell us yesterday?” the kindergarten teacher huffs. “I have things to do!”

“I was setting up my science experiments for the day,” you grumble. “If this isn’t worth it, I’m making her set the rest of it up.” You know it will be worth it.

“Good morning, subordinates!” Ava makes it known that she’s entering the library. “I have some great news!”

Everyone silently urges her to go on.

“I have no idea who did this- sure as hell wasn’t me- but, we got some donations after school yesterday!” She projects the webpage up onto the screen.

Everyone gasps when they see how much money had been donated last night. To keep up appearances, your eyes widen, your jaw drops, and you well up with tears. Acting classes from when you were younger sure are paying off now.

“Oh my- Oh my god!” you shout, and Melissa is hugging you tightly.

“So, thanks to these very generous donations, we’re able to keep the arts programs up and running for at least the next three years!” Ava grins.

“Well, who donated?” Janine asks. “We have to find out so we can thank them!”

“Who cares?” Ava rebuts. “We got what we wanted! Now back to work, slackers!”

You stay in your seat, pretending to be in complete and utter shock while everyone else starts to get up. Almost every teacher comes up congratulating you and telling you that your hard work paid off. Melissa sits with you, happy as can be, and only reaffirming what everyone else is already telling you. Only once everyone else has left does she say anything else.

“Y/N,” she grins. “This is incredible. I told you your hard work would pay off. It’s a freakin’ miracle!”

“Y-Yeah,” you match her smile. “God, this is great.”

The two of you sit there for some time, chatting about how you could use some of the funding to buy more supplies and the likes until you remember you still have to finish setting up your science materials.

“Oh shit!” you whisper. “I- I gotta go finish setting up before the kids come in!” You take off in the direction of your room, and the redhead can only watch you as you go with a lovestruck look in her eyes.

When you’re halfway there, you hear Ava’s voice over the speaker again. “Y/N, my office.”

“Fuck,” you mumble as you halt sprinting down the hallway and turn to make your way down to her room. There was no way you would be able to finish preparing for today at this rate.

“This better be quick. I have to-”

“You donated that money, didn’t you?” Ava gets right to the point.

Your eyes widen. Your cover was blown with her, meaning it was going to be blown quickly among your colleagues as well.

“Well, was it?”

You nod subtly. “But please… don’t say anything. Please. I did it for the kids, and I have enough stashed away, and-”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” your best friend grins. “Why you think I didn’t say nothin’ at the meeting today?”

“You’re the best,” you sigh in relief.

“Don’t I know it,” the principal cackles. “Now, fo’ real. Come shoot an instagram video with me to announce that we met our goal.”

“Ava, I actually have-”

“I’ll tell,” she singsongs. “C’mon. We need our fearless leader and organizer to be part of the video.”

“Fine.”

The two of you finish the video about five minutes before the kids will start to show up, and you practically sprint back to your classroom to attempt the impossible task of finishing setting up.

When you get there though, Melissa is in your room just finishing up the last station.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly as you make your way into the room.

“Nah,” she shrugs. “But I wanted to. I got the time.”

“Thank you,” you grin.

“Noticed your coffee cup was empty too,” she notes. “So I made you a new one. Hope that’s alright.”

You walk over to your desk and take a sip of the warm drink. It’s perfect.

“Thank you,” you make your way over to her and squeeze her shoulder gently. “Seriously. You just made my day.”

“Nah, that mysterious donor did,” she chuckles. “But I’m glad I could help. Have a good morning, and I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you mock salute her. “Thank you again.”

You greet your children at the door, coffee mug and heart both full. Melissa greets her own students, but she can’t stop watching you. You’re just… so perfect. She knows she’s falling for you hard. Maybe at the end of the week she’ll confess her feelings- no, she will. She makes up her mind: she’s going to confess her feelings to you by Friday, if not before. She just has to work up the nerve to do it.

At lunch, the conversation is almost solely on who the mystery donor is. You play dumb, and you tell everyone that you’re just happy the school gets to keep their program from next to Melissa.

“I know a guy who could find out for us,” the redhead tells your colleagues.

“Oh, do it,” Janine grins. “That way, we can have our kids make cards and send them to the person to thank them! Oh my god- do you guys think our donor is Taylor Swift?! She does stuff like this sometimes!”

“She usually puts her name to it,” you chuckle. “But seriously, I think we should just be grateful. Ava and I already thanked the person on the school’s webpage and social media, and I think that should suffice.” You really don’t want to be found out.

“I already got the guy on the line,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she types away on her phone. “I’m gonna have to make a tray of ziti and some meatballs as payment though.”

You bite your lip. You really, truly pray that her guy won’t be able to find you out. But, her people usually come through for her… maybe just this once, they won’t be able to?

“Oi, Y/N,” Melissa taps your elbow gently.

“Hm?”

“We lost ya there for a second,” she tells you. “I asked if you would come over to help me make the food, since we’s in this situation because of your fundraiser.”

“Oh,” you blush. “Uh, sure. When?”

“You got anything goin’ on tonight?” she asks. You shake your head. “Then tonight. I’ll text you my address. Bring a bottle of wine.” At that moment, she silently promises herself she’ll talk to you about her feelings for you.

You nod and continue to eat your lunch quietly, letting the conversation around you continue as you continuously plead with the lord that they don’t find out it’s you who donated all that money.

You show up to your coworker’s house promptly at 5:30, like she asked, with a nicer bottle of wine in hand. You hope she’ll like it.

When she opens the door, you have to stop yourself from blushing at the sight of her. You’ve seen her at school, and you wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but you find her attractive there. In the comfort of her own home though, she’s almost even more gorgeous.

“Hey,” she opens the door. “C’mon in. I got all the stuff ready.”

You enter quietly, offering her the bottle of wine. She pulls her glasses from off the top of her head and puts them on before inspecting the bottle.

“Damn,” she says. “You got good taste, but expensive taste.”

“I figured I could splurge for a celebration,” you offer up.

She leads you to the kitchen and pulls out two wine glasses before pouring some into each. Once you have yours in hand, she quietly raises her own in a toast.

“To this mystery donor,” she says quietly. You clink your glass with hers before sipping on the wine.

By the time all of the food is in the oven, the two of you have gotten through about three quarters of the bottle and plan to finish off the rest on her couch.

“This was nice,” you tell her quietly.

“Yeah,” she hums, but you can tell her mind is clearly somewhere else.

“Hey, penny for your thoughts?” you ask her.

She hums again, still wrapped up in her own inner turmoil over telling you that she has a thing for you.

“Mel,” you tap her gently, the nickname rolling off of your tongue for the first time.

She snaps out of her trance.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” you ask softly.

She bites her lip nervously before whispering, “Please don’t hate me for this.” And then she gently presses her lips to your own.

Your eyes widen before you kiss her back just as tenderly. When you need air, you pull back.

“Oh, god,” she whispers.

“Hey,” you set a warm hand on her knee. And then you lean in and kiss her again so she knows that you aren’t upset with her; you don’t hate her.

“So…” she hums when you two part again. “I- I have a thing for you.”

“You wouldn’t say?” you tease her. “If it wasn’t clear, I like you too. I just didn’t think you would ever go for someone like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she frowns. “You’re… you.”

“Yeah,” you laugh weakly as you run a hand through your hair. “I’m me. Shy, quiet, dorky… always working… friends with Ava.”

“Mm,” she hums as she shifts closer to you. “You are you: hard working, driven, down to earth, kind… heart of gold… gorgeous.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “C’mon, Mel.”

“I’m serious,” she tells you as she tucks a hair behind your ear. “I like you because you’re you… I tried to hate you so hard at the beginning of the year, and I just… couldn’t.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask her.

“Nope. From the moment I found out you were the one that changed my lock and fixed my door,” she admits.

Your eyes widen slightly at that confession. “You knew?”

“I thanked Mr. J that day, and he told me it wasn’t him,” she shrugs. “That he saw you come in early with a bag from Home Depot. I put two and two together.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “You could’ve told me you knew.”

“There was never a right time for it,” she chuckles. “But I figure now is the right time to say thank you the way I wanted to then.” She kisses you again.

That night, the two of you talk over how you’re going to continue on with this little… situation you’ve found yourselves in. You’ll take it slow. You bid her a goodbye with a lingering kiss before climbing into your car and heading back to your house.

Sleep washes over you easily that night, content with what had just happened at Melissa’s.

The next day continues on as it normally does, although when no one is around in the corner that your classrooms are in, the redhead will sneak into your room and kiss you passionately. She’s found that she quite likes kissing you, and you don’t mind one bit. She hasn’t heard any news from her guy, and you feel like you’re in the clear. They won’t find you out.

But come the following day, as you’re sitting in the break room with Janine, Gregory, Jacob, and Barbara, the redhead comes storming in.

“You!” she points a finger at you. In her other hand is a stack of papers.

You practically jump out of your skin when you hear her booming voice. “Me?” you whisper.

“When the hell were you gonna tell us who you really were?!”

“Melissa,” Barbara furrows her brows. “It is too early for this.”

“No, I think now’s a great time for this. When the hell were you gonna tell us that you were the donor?! When were you gonna tell us that your Y/N, daughter of one of the most famous day traders and one of the most prestigious lawyers in the area?!”

You turn bright red, and you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes.

“What?” Janine gasps. “Melissa, you have to-”

“See for yourselves!” She throws the papers in her hands on one of the tables.

The rest of your friends gather around to look at the papers. There’s a screenshot of the transaction with your name, and then there are a few papers from an article that ran a couple of years ago about one of your dad’s parties and being able to secure a deal. In the image, you’re in the background drinking a glass of wine next to your mother. They all look to you with wide eyes.

“Wow,” Jacob whistles.

“When the hell were you gonna tell us?” Melissa asks you again. “You know the trouble I had to go through to get this information? How much deep diving I did once I saw your name? You coulda saved me a trip to the grocery store and hours of cooking and cleaning if you would’ve just fessed up!”

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper as you wipe at your tears and make your way out. You head back to your classroom, coffee abandoned at your seat, and lock the door. You keep it locked despite the various knocks that come and go to check on you after your quick exit.

“Melissa,” Barbara tries to calm her friend down. “I know you’re frustrated that you went through all of that effort, but… Y/N was doing it out of the goodness of her heart, and she clearly didn’t want to be found out.”

“I know,” the redhead sighs once her fire has died down a bit. “I was too hard on her, wasn’t I?”

“I’d say so,” the kindergarten teacher admits.

“Shit,” she mutters. “I gotta fix this.”

You only unlock it when you know it’s time for your students to start arriving, but you don’t dare go stand at your door like you usually do. You don’t want to face Melissa- not yet. You don’t think you can. You’ve only just started to explore what could happen between the two of you, and you’ve already ruined it by not telling her who you were. You avoid her for the morning.

Come lunchtime, you don’t even bother to head into the break room. You just suppose a granola bar from the stash that you have in your room will have to suffice and hold you over until you can go home today.

You lay your head down on your desk- it’s pounding because you didn’t get to finish your caffeinated drink.

You hear her boots against the floor before you can see her. You think she’s just going to pass by your door and head into her own room, but she stops in your doorway. In her hands, she has a mug full of coffee, your lunch, and dozens of handmade cards from the students.

“Hey,” she says gently.

You don’t answer. She makes her way into the room and sets everything on your desk before she makes herself comfortable.

“Eat,” she instructs.

“Not hungry,” you shrug.

“Then at least drink the coffee I made you,” she tries. “I know you get headaches when you don’t have enough caffeine in your system.”

You shrug. She raises her eyebrows though, and you meekly reach for the cup. “Thanks."

“The kids all made you cards,” she tells you gently. “Thanking you.”

You look at them with a sad smile.

“The staff put some cards in there too.”

“That’s nice,” you say numbly.

“C’mon, hun,” she sighs as she lays a warm hand on your shoulder. “This stuff normally makes you happy.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigned. “But I fucked up. I didn’t tell you who I was, and now you’re mad at me, and I probably ruined whatever we have goin’ on here. I’ll pay you back for the money you spent on the food by the way.”

“No need for that,” she waves you off. “Was I pissed when I saw your name on that paper? When I realized who you actually were? Yeah. A little. But… you single-handedly saved our arts program. You organized all of the events, and then when that wasn’t enough, you donated so much that we get to keep that program for at least the next five years.”

“Yeah, for the kids,” you sigh. “It’s all for them.”

“And besides,” she chuckles quietly. “If I didn’t have to make that food, I probably wouldn’t have kissed you that night, I woulda found out who you were before tellin’ you how I felt, and then I really would’ve been pissed with you, and what we have going on here wouldn’t have happened.”

You shrug. “I ruined it though.”

“You didn’t ruin nothin’. I’m not mad anymore, and I’m sorry I was as hard on you as I was,” she promises you gently. “I still like ya. I still wanna see where this goes, if you do.”

You look up at her, glassy eyes and all. “Really?”

“Yeah, hun. If this showed me anything, it’s that you’re a really good person, and I made a really good choice fallin’ for you.”

You blink a few times in disbelief. So you didn’t ruin this. You still have Melissa in your life- she doesn’t hate you.

“Do you wanna see where this goes?”

“I do,” you say softly.

Her lips meet yours, and you only part when you hear a collective gasp from the teachers who had quietly followed Melissa down to ensure that she wasn’t going to cause any fights.

The two of you pull back, cheeks red.

“Uh, surprise?” you say nervously.

#melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary

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clockwayswrites · 11 months ago

Text

Like Betta Fish Do - Part 29

WC 2500, Masterpost

A Press of the Button:

An Exclusive Interview with Jason Wayne and Danny Nightingale Following the Infamous New Years Eve Choice

By Clark Kent

“I’m going to throw up.”

I’m sure that I wasn’t supposed to overhear that; it’s not exactly an auspicious start to an interview. Here inside of Wayne Manor’s stately halls the noise of the crowd of press outside of the gate has fallen away and the words from the other side of the door are clear. The voice isn’t one that I recognize, so I place it as the young man at the center of the event: Daniel Nightingale.

“Danny, please, I’ve never liked Daniel,” he’ll introduce himself to me once I’m inside the sitting room. Jason Todd is at his boyfriend’s side, looming like an avenging angel. Or, since we’re in Gotham, a very large bat.

When I was assigned the interview, I hadn’t been sure where it would be held. As readers may know, Jason Todd hasn’t lived at the Manor since his miraculous return from the dead. There were, as he said, too many memories in the Manor for him to return. At the time he had still been struggling to overcome the unfortunate amnesia that he had suffered during his brutal abduction as a teenager.

Whatever trauma is still lingering, it’s clear that both young men are taking comfort being in the manor. The proverbial wagons have been circled inside of the family home. Even cleaned up the sitting room shows signs of a rotation cast of family keeping the pair company: a plethora of blankets, stacked board games, feel-good food, and, of all things, a plush trilobite.

As we take our seats, Danny leans unconsciously into Jason’s space like a flower to the sun. His nerves are clear in the way that his fingers fidget restlessly with the edge of his sleeves. The red sweater is far too large for him and hangs off of one thin shoulder. I have to guess that it’s Jason’s sweater and worn today for comfort. I doubt anyone could blame Danny seeking comfort wherever he can find it.

Less than a week ago Danny was abducted from the Wayne’s New Years Eve party by a Gotham villain known as Two Face. The villain came into being after Harvey Dent, a district attorney in Gotham, was traumatically exposed to a toxic chemical. (More about Two Face can be read in the article ‘A Flip of a Coin’.) Danny had been taken off site while a handful of party goers were strapped to an explosive device.

Presented with the horrifying choice between his boyfriend or his father and youngest brother, Jason had pressed the red button connected to Danny’s trap.

Danny Nightingale had been electrocuted to death.

And survived.

It’s the perfect sort of awful story to capture the attention of the public and press alike, and it’s the reason that I’m at Wayne Manor now.

Hoping to make Danny feel more settled, I start off with some pleasantries before going in with a soft question. How is he doing with all the attention that the event has been getting? It must be overwhelming.

Danny glances towards the front of the house where outside lies the front yard, the protective gate, and the press. “It is. I feel like I’m still getting used to living in a city as big as Gotham, so all of this suddenly… yeah, it’s a lot.”

Danny grew up in a much smaller city in central Illinois called Amity Park. He moved to Gotham in the late summer of last year to continue his education at Gotham University. It’s a change that he describes as good, even as overwhelming as it is.

“Gotham has been surprisingly easy to fall in love with. I can see why Gothamites are so protective of the city,” Danny explains with the first hint of a smile on his face that I’ve seen since I came through the doors.

When I ask him if he hopes to stay in Gotham long term, Danny glances at Jason and blushes faintly. “I’d like to, if I can find work. There’s a lot here worth staying for and the city is just part of that.”

The words cause the first blush I’ve seen on Jason’s cheeks since he was new to the Wayne family and a little overwhelmed himself. Clearly Jason is one of the things worth staying for.

We talk a little about how Danny likes the Wayne family. He admits that he’s still getting to know them. He’d only been introduced to most of the family at the end of last year, right before finals. Already, though, there are stories to be told about board games and good food. Beyond the Waynes, Danny has someone else very important in Gotham.

“Your sister is in town, isn’t she?” I ask. “I imagine having her here during this has been nice.”

“It is. I was actually supposed to go and see her after New Years, but obviously…” Danny clears his throat and Jason takes one of Danny’s hands in his. Danny instantly relaxes into Jason’s side. “But yeah, having her here is really nice.”

“I take it you two are close then?”

“She was my anchor growing up,” Danny says with a little smile that’s tinged with sadness. “I wish she hadn’t had to be. Now that I’m older I know how unfair that was to her, but I’m so lucky that she did. She could so easily resent me for it, but she doesn’t at all. It makes it really easy to love her.”

“Not that it’s hard,” Jason adds with a chuckle. “I think her and Dick have already made an oldest sibling club and Damian thinks both Nightingales hung the moon, I swear.”

“Speaking of Nightingale, that isn’t your original last name, is it?”

It’s been an item of note in the recent write ups on Danny that both of the siblings had changed their last name to Nightingale from their birth name of Fenton. Their parents, doctors both, still go by Fenton. In Gotham, at least, the Doctor Fentons would be described as mad scientists. The so-called ‘ectobiologists’ have made their life a study of ghosts. In Amity Park, ‘the most haunted town in America’, they’re just part of the atmosphere.

Danny sighs and glances away. “No. Jazz and I both changed our last names when we turned eighteen. Jazz had wanted me to change it and go with her when she turned eighteen, but she had this great scholarship for college and she’d taken care of me enough. I couldn’t put that on her too, so I refused to until I was eighteen.”

“So you didn’t actually emancipate yourself?”

“Nope. One day late for that. But I moved out the same day I changed my name.”

“How did your parents take that?”

A wry smile twists Danny’s lips. “They didn’t notice until months later when the lab had gotten too dirty.”

“The lab?”

“It was one of my chores to clean it; another thing that I get was messed up now that I’m older and away from there. We, um, think that it was my exposure to all those chemicals that made me a meta.”

By all accounts, Danny’s meta status is how he survived the electrocution. It’s a label that he looks slightly uncomfortable with.

“It’s not that I mind being a meta,” he’s quick to assure me. “It’s just that… what actually made me one was an accident in the lab. I was electrocuted.” He raises his left arm up. The overly large red sleeve pools down to reveal a branching network of faint silver scars tracing his skin. “It’s hard right now to think back to it, after what happened. I really didn’t know if I would survive… either time. I’m lucky that all I have are scars.”

“But you thought that you might survive.”

“I did,” Danny says with a little shrug. He seems almost at ease with that question, unlike Jason.

Jason has to take a moment to press a kiss to Danny’s temple.

“After the first time I was electrocuted,” Danny explains, “I became a little more resistant to electricity— little shocks and things. It’s not like I ever tested it out with anything big. I guess it was just a feeling I had.”

When I ask Danny if he’s alright to talk about the night of the party he looks stressed by the idea but still gives a little nod. As he points out, it is why I’m there.

“I was getting some fresh air,” Danny explains. He’s picking at the sweater again. “The night was really lovely, but it’s just not the sort of thing I’m used to, you know? So I just wanted a moment to gather myself. I guess… I guess they were already watching me, because they knocked me out before I even really knew they were there.

“I woke up strapped to a metal chair. They’d taken my shoes and socks off. I couldn't understand why, but then,” Danny has to pause here and take a moment. Jason pulls him closer. “Then I noticed that my feet were in water and there was a wire in the water too. The wire wasn’t live but it’s… I mean it wasn’t hard to put it all together.”

“That must have been terrifying.”

“Yeah.” Danny looks over at the windows and the gray winter day beyond them. “I didn’t know who had taken me or why. I could hear some people close, talking about waiting for a signal, but it wasn’t much. When my eyes adjusted I could see a camera on a tripod and a laptop. I didn’t know what was going on, not until it turned on.

“Two Face was on it. I guess you know I’m not a native Gothamite that it took me a moment to recognize him,” Danny said with a weak laugh. “He explained what he was doing.”

I ask Danny what his first thought was when hearing the plan.

“Worry for Jason. Which I know sounds insane, but I guess… I guess I had already accepted the circumstance I was in. I just didn’t want Jason to have to go through that choice.”

“And then Jason was on the screen.”

“Yeah.”

“Jason, what were you feeling at seeing Danny on the television?”

“What do you think?” Jason asks, frustration lacing through his voice. “I was pissed off. I was scared. I was… I hated myself.”

“Why?”

“Because Danny was only in that situation because he was dating a Wayne. Because he was dating me. And there he was, a few seconds from death, bleeding, and… and telling me that he loved me.”

While Danny sounds almost detached talking about it, possibly a coping mechanism, Jason sounds like every wound is still fresh. It paints a terrifying picture of what it’s like to be the one to die versus the one who presses the button.

I turn back to Danny. “You said something to Jason in the video after that. There's been a great deal of debate about your words. Do you feel alright discussing them.”

Danny nods. I read out the quote: You know what you have to do, don’t you?

“Danny, what did you mean?”

“That Jason had to press my button,” Danny says with surprising ease. It’s clear that the order was one that he still stands by.

I ask about that certainty.

Danny gives a little shrug. He tucks himself back further under Jason’s arm, but I'm certain that the move is more for Jason’s comfort. “It was me or a group of other people. That would have been enough. I would never put myself first like that, but then you add in Damian and Bruce being part of that group? I couldn’t ask Jason to choose me over his family and Jason knows I wouldn’t.”

What about the chance of survival?

“Jason and I had talked about my accident before. Death… it’s something we both get, you know? So we both knew that there could be a chance of me surviving, but there was never any guarantee.”

“Are you going on record that you told Jason to press the button, knowing it could kill you?”

“Absolutely.”

And how did that insistence make Jason feel? Right then it seems all Jason can do is curl up around Danny, as if he can shield him from the past.

“Fucking horrible. Danny just looked at the whole situation and made the choice for me. I don’t know, maybe I should think that was freeing, but I still had to press the button.”

I point out that he could have made the other choice and he just shakes his head. “And make Danny live with that? He had made his choice. He didn’t want to trade his life for theirs. I hated it, but what sort of person would I have been if I didn’t let Danny take control of his own life? I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with either choice, so at least… at least I could listen to Danny.”

So Jason had pressed the button, Danny had been electrocuted (he refused to speak on the experience), and Jason had attacked Two Face. The man had ended up with a broken jaw and fractures in the orbital rim. It was while Jason had been sobbing in his father’s arms that they had gotten the word from one of Gotham’s local heroes: Danny was still alive.

“What did I feel? Hope,” Jason said with an almost despairing laugh. “I don’t… hope and I don't do well these days, but I felt hope. I don’t know if I believed it until I was actually holding his hands.”

“I was a little out of it when they got there,” Danny admits, which seems more than fair considering everyone else would have been dead. “But I’m so grateful to Nightwing and the paramedics taking care of me and letting me see Jason before the hospital. I really… I really needed him right then.”

And now?

“I’d like to say that I’m alright, but,” Danny shrugs, “it’s a lot to go through. But I know I’ll be alright. Jason and his family are amazing and I have Jazz here. I’ll keep healing, physically and mentally, and so will Jason. I know the internet has a lot to say about it all, but I think they need to understand that this turned out the best way that it could have.”

Jason kisses Danny’s temple again with a slight smile. He seems to be in agreement with everything his boyfriend said.

“I suppose I have just one more question,” I say after a moment of looking over my notes. “Why do you call Danny ‘fish’?”

I don’t get an answer, but maybe hearing those two able to laugh so soon after such a traumatic event is better than a story.

---

AN: *flops dramatically* darlings, this chapter is finally done! Thank you to @chromatographic and @mokulule for cheer/beta reading for me. This one was really hard to write since it's out of the normal style wise for me, but it felt like the best way to tell the story right there.

I hope you enjoy it!

I no longer tag, you can subscribe at the masterpost!

#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do

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writeonwhiskey · 5 months ago

Text

the skz house: ch 20

a/n: thank you @bahablastplz for editing! i am so excited to get this chapter out to you guys. i hope you enjoy it! its quite long, i don't normally add a word count, but i should warn you before you get started haha

wc: 10,370

[ read chapter 19 here ]

Chapter 20: Of Father's & Basements

You follow Changbin up the stairs in autopilot mode, your body moving one foot after the other without you even thinking about it. Your mind is stuck on what’s happening on the first floor. Why would his father show up like this? Why hadn’t anyone warned you guys before you got on the plane? He didn’t appear at the house, in the country, out of nowhere…someone had to of known he was coming. They shouldn’t have blindsided Chan like that.

“No, I don’t need any help, y/n. I’ve got it,” Changbin attempts to joke.

You blink and refocus on him in front of you. His arms are tense and shaking from the weight of yours and Chan’s suitcases.

“Sorry,” you murmur as he puts them on the ground at the third floor.

He takes in your expression as he raises the handles on the suitcases. He doesn’t say anything further about it as he starts pushing them towards Chan’s door. You trail behind him again.

“Bin?” you call to him when he stops at the door. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not really sure.” he replies, turning to face you.

“But you have some idea, don’t you?”

You watch his face carefully. He’s typically always smiling or joking about something but right now there’s not a trace of either.

“Is his family alright? No one’s hurt?” you continue.

“Yeah, they’re fine,” he reassures you.

You feel some relief at that, but it’s almost immediately replaced by a sinking feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. If his family is alright and his dad still showed up here, two days after Christmas…

You think back to Chan’s behavior on the flight heading to Miami and after speaking with his family on the phone Christmas Eve. He knew something was wrong, even then. Whatever it was, though, he clearly hadn’t expected his father to show up because of it. You don’t want to believe it has anything to do with you, but your gut instinct is telling you otherwise.

“Changbin,” you say, pleading to him with your eyes on the brink of tears. You don’t want to think that you’re the cause of all this. If you hadn’t been so persistent in getting Chan to break down his walls, maybe this wouldn’t be happening right now. You wouldn’t have even asked him to come on the trip, he would have gone home and wouldn’t be facing the wrath of his father two stories below you.

“It’s not my place to say anything. I’m sorry,” he says sincerely.

With his words, you’re reminded of your role in this house. As close as you may have gotten to every one of the members, you are still an outsider. There are certain things you don’t have the privilege of knowing.

Changbin opens the door to Chan’s room and pushes the luggage inside. You walk past him and enter; he closes the door and leaves you alone inside. You resist the urge to crumble on the floor and instead sit on the edge of Chan’s bed. You’ll wait for him to come up and then you can get some answers, you can make sure he’s okay.

Some time passes and he doesn’t come up. When you re-emerge from the room and go back downstairs to find him, you’re informed he’s left the house with his father. You wonder how long they’ve been gone and why he didn’t text you to let you know.

You already know why he didn’t. It’s none of your business. You can’t forget that.

Chan doesn’t come back at all that night.

It’s Wednesday, and even though neither Hyunjin nor Chan are home you still stick to the schedule. You curl up into a ball on your bed in Chan’s room, alone. But you hardly sleep.

The next morning you’re shuffling throughout the house, keeping yourself busy with household chores. It’s why you’re here, is what you keep telling yourself. You interact with the other members and assignees that are home, but everything feels off without Chan or Hyunjin around. You do their laundry—clothes and linen—clean the kitchen, vacuum the floors. Anything to keep your mind preoccupied.

It's well into the afternoon and you’re vacuuming the living room. You don’t hear the front door open; you’re so caught up in your thoughts you don’t even hear your name being called. It isn’t until a pair of arms wrap around your waist that you’re pulled from your thoughts, jumping and screaming at the sudden contact.

With one look down at the arms around you, the rings on the fingers…you know it’s Hyunjin. You shut off the vacuum and spin around, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Aww, you missed me?” He teases, squeezing you back just as tightly.

“I thought you were coming back tomorrow,” you say, your voice muffled against his chest.

“Change of plans,” he shrugs, resting his cheek on top of your head as you remain in the embrace.

You don’t want to let him go yet. You need him too much. He lets you hold on to him a while longer and when you finally pull away, he’s smiling down at you. You take in his still darkened locks, perfectly structured face, his plump lips, the adorable freckle beneath his eye, the eyebrow piercing…

Your hand flies to his chin, tilting his head up while the other brushes his hair away from his face.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” you say sternly.

He winces at the use of his surname, taking both of your wrists in his hands to bring them away from his face. He shakes his head causing his hair to fall back in place, covering his eyebrows.

“You hate it?”

You free one of your hands from his loose grip on your wrists and brush his bangs back again, taking in the look on him.

“Well, I do think your face is perfect without it…but it looks good on you.”

“I know,” he responds with a wink.

You swat him on the arm playfully, already feeling more at ease with him at home.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early? I would have come pick you up.”

“You just got back yesterday…I thought I was being considerate,” he explains. “Thought maybe you’d like to rest and here I find you, Cinderella-ing away.”

“I needed a distraction,” you shrug.

He ushers you towards the couch. He sits and you plop down next to him, feeling the exhaustion from the work you’ve been doing all morning hit you all at once.

“How was your trip?” he inquires.

“Better than I expected.” You turn to face him on the couch. “Until we got back…I’m sure you know.”

“I heard,” he nods. “He’s fine. He’ll be back soon.”

You exhale a long sigh. You know better than to ask for more details at this point. Even Hyunjin wouldn’t be able to break their code and explain anything to you. It’s hard to reconcile with that fact, truly. The only person who can elaborate is Chan and he’s nowhere to be found, and there’s no telling if he even will when he returns.

“Did you have a good time back home?” you ask.

“It was nice to see my family. Kkami, most of all,” he tells you. “But I don’t think my mom could get me out of the house fast enough after I showed up with this piercing. She thought my dad would lose his shit if he saw it.”

The tone in which they speak of their fathers is always shockingly cavalier. This does nothing to help your concerns over where Chan is.

“So, you were sent back early?”

“For my own safety,” he laughs.

Considering Chan has been M.I.A for almost 24 hours now after his father showed up, you don’t find this funny at all. Their dads wouldn’t actually physically harm them…would they? The thought makes you feel sick to your stomach. If Chan shows back up with scars or bruises, you are liable to lose it.

Hyunjin hooks a finger under your chin and brings your attention back to him.

“Let’s go get lunch,” he suggests.

“I haven’t even showered yet.” You look down at yourself and brush back the hairs that have fallen from your messy bun.

“Well go shower, I’ll unpack…then we’ll get lunch.”

“I’ll unpack for you later,” you say.

“I need something to do, or I’ll pass out and fuck up my sleep schedule even more.”

“Okay,” you concede softly.

Before you can stand, Hyunjin pulls you onto his lap, his eyes searching yours. He cups your face with one hand, stroking the side of your face with his fingers. You lean into his touch. You want to apologize for being in such a sour mood when he’s just returned home, but all you can muster is a forced smile.

He gives a small shake of his head in return.

You don’t have to say anything. No apologies are necessary. You can feel whatever you’re feeling. You should know that already.

He brings your face to his and places a chaste kiss on your lips. He doesn’t part his lips, doesn’t deepen the kiss. He keeps his lips against yours and you feel a little more of the tension subsiding.

Changbin tries to weasel his way into lunch with you and Hyunjin, but Hyunjin firmly shuts him down. The two of you venture out alone—you have lunch then make a few stops for groceries and to pick up saline for Hyunjin’s piercing. While unpacking, he realized he left the bottle he bought in Korea. Which, of course he did.

When you return home, Chan still isn’t back. You’re sad at that, but far less than you would have been if Hyunjin weren’t here. Your saving grace, however, is pulled away by Changbin and you’re left to put away the groceries with Rhiannon. You’re far from hungry but you help her make dinner for the others that are home.

“He did not,” you say to her when she reveals that Allie texted the group chat what Lee Know got her for Christmas. You left your phone upstairs, not wanting to continuously check it for a text from Chan you know isn’t coming.

“He did. He really did,” she says laughing as she wipes her hands to take her phone out of her pocket. She turns it around to show you the picture.

It’s a selfie of Allie, her expression is a mixture of shock and confusion as she holds a butt plug next to her face.

Charlotte sent several eye covering emojis beneath it.

“What the fuck,” you say, laughing with her.

“I know. Raunchy.” She sets her phone back on the counter and returns her attention to the meat on the stove.

You get back to chopping the vegetables on the cutting board in front of you.

“Not just raunchy…it’s actually kinda rude considering he turned down her offer for anal sex last month,” you tell her.

“Exactly! She’s never going to let him do it now,” Rhiannon replies.

Someone clears their throat near the kitchen entrance and you both turn your heads to see who it is.

Chan.

You’re frozen in place, mid-chop. Of course, he’d return while you’re in the midst of discussing anal sex.

You take in his expression—he seems okay. He looks like he didn’t get much sleep, but he’s alive and well on all other counts. His lips turn up into a smile when you look at him and you surely could use your stethoscope right now, because it feels like your heart skips a beat at the sight.

“Hey,” he says to you softly.

“Hey,” you reply.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Me?” you ask incredulously. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

He holds his hand out for you. You set down the knife and walk to him, placing your hand in his when you’re close enough. He brings you to him, wrapping his arms around you, hands resting on your ass.

“I am now,” he confirms.

He still seems like the Chan from your trip, and you let out a small breath. You feared that the brick walls you worked so hard to bulldoze through would be replaced by impenetrable steel. Maybe you overreacted. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as all that you were thinking. Though, what choice had he left you with?

“Will you tell me about it later?” You ask quietly.

“I don’t know that it’s conducive after everything…but I will, if you want me to.”

You nod.

“Okay.” he says.

“Okay.” you echo.

He places a quick kiss to your forehead, then smacks you on the butt.

“As long as you tell me what all this anal talk was about.” He says, loud enough for Rhiannon to hear.

Your eyes open wide, and Rhiannon starts guffawing behind you.

You sit next to Hyunjin for dinner, though neither you eat. It’s just nice to be with everyone again. Well, almost everyone. Jeongin, Lee Know, Felix, Allie and Seungmin still aren’t back yet. You occasionally glance towards Chan—he still seems fine. Though, he’s not actively contributing to the conversation he still chimes in occasionally. You want to know what’s on his mind so badly and silently wish for everyone to finish eating faster.

After dinner, both Chan and Hyunjin go up to their rooms while you help Rhiannon with the dishes.

On your way upstairs, an unfamiliar conflict weighs on you as you ascend to the third floor to see Chan. It’s a Friday…you’re supposed to be with Hyunjin. And you will be. But…the last week and a half with only Chan has you feeling out of sorts. You try to tell yourself that nothing has changed…you still care deeply for them both. The connection you now have with Chan is what you always wanted. This will allow you to be with both of them comfortably. Chan opening up to you and professing the feelings he has harbored towards you for years, however, is what has you out of sorts.

Chan’s door is open when you reach it; you knock on it to alert him of your presence. He’s seated at his desk and spins around in his chair as you enter. His laptop is open and you see the familiar music program displayed on the screen. If he was able to get right back to work on their project, he really must be fine.

“So…” you trail off, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“So,” he repeats. “Anal sex?”

Your expression falls flat, and he chuckles. He knows what you’re here to discuss.

“Okay, okay, sorry. What do you wanna know?”

“Why did your dad come here? Where did you go?”

“To check on me,” he tells you. “We went for dinner and then I stayed at the hotel with him.”

“Check on you for what? Are you unwell?”

You know he’s not, but he’s being brief with his responses. You don’t want to blame him; you are throwing multiple questions at once in his direction. It must feel like an interrogation.

“He knew…he knows…about us, I mean.”

“What about us?”

“That I canceled my trip home to go with you instead.”

“And he flew all the way out here for that?”

“It’s just…not something I would normally do. Skipping out on certain obligations and Christmas with my family, my siblings in particular.”

“Shit, Chan…I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I wanted to go with you.”

“You’ve never missed a Christmas with your family?” He shakes his head. “And that’s why he was so pissed?”

Chan is quiet for a moment.

“The trip was…well, you are a deviation from my plans.”

You arch an eyebrow at that.

“From their plans, you mean?”

“They are my plans, too,” he shrugs, “…he just wanted to make sure I’m not straying from the path.”

“Are you?”

He sighs.

“I’m trying really hard not to. I don’t want to disappoint them, they’ve done so much for me. But I also want to give this a try—being open and transparent with you…even knowing how it will end.”

It strikes you then that you may have to be stronger than Chan at the end of this semester. You don’t know if you can do that.

“You deserve to be happy too, Chan. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

Until he moves on and finds a suitable partner that will please his parents. You wonder if that’s the obligation he mentioned, but you can’t bring yourself to directly ask him about that.

“I’m gonna try.”

“We’ll just enjoy the time we have together?”

“Yes.”

“And even with all the things you told me in Miami, you’re okay with me sleeping in Hyunjin’s bed tonight?”

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you all to myself,” he confesses. “But it’s Hyunjin…I know he’s good to you and handles you with care. And he’ll give you back when I need you.”

When he needs you? You grip the edges of his mattress to refrain from smiling stupidly at that.

“After our trip it feels a little heavier, you know?”

“Does it?” he asks, as though it’s not obvious why it would. “I’ve shared everything with these guys since we were kids…I know it sounds crazy, but this is not that different.”

You scrunch up your face at that. Is he comparing you to a toy or clothing item they share amongst the group?

“So, you’re okay with me sleeping with all of them?”

His eyes darken at that.

“Fuck no. Just one. Just Hyunjin. That’s all I can bear.”

You laugh at his reaction.

“Just checking.”

As convoluted as the overall situation is, his answer makes sense. Aside from him finally opening up to you, nothing has changed. He still felt this way the entire time you’d already been with Hyunjin and there hadn’t been any problems about that. The only difference now is that you know too. And what you will make of that information over time.

“Does it seem unfair?” you ask.

“What?”

“That you only get me…and I get you and Hyunjin?”

“I only get you?” He arches an eyebrow. “The fact that I get you at all is enough.”

The sincerity in his tone makes your eyes sting. He strokes your cheek with the back of his fingers.

“I’d trust him with my life…I trust him with you, too. Now, go down there to him before I change my mind and tie you up here.”

A flurry of butterflies make their way from your stomach down to your pussy at that remark. It sounds tempting enough to make you hesitate to return downstairs so quickly. You’ve been without Hyunjin for so long, though. You can’t deny that you physically miss him too.

You lean forward to give him a kiss before standing.

“See you tomorrow?” he nods. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Back in Hyunjin’s room, you find him in the dark, sprawled out on the bed on his stomach, already snoring. You could have stayed upstairs after all. But after the long day of travel he’s had, his fatigue is understandable. You shake him awake, telling him to get beneath the blankets. He does as you tell him; his eyes still partially closed. You change into your pajamas before climbing into bed with him. He cuddles up to you, throwing one leg over both of yours and resting his head on your shoulder.

You wonder how you’ll adjust to this new normal with both of them. Or if it will ever feel normal.

It’s no surprise Hyunjin remains dead to the world long after you’ve woken up the next day. Even after you shower and return to his room, he’s still knocked out. It’s been nearly twelve hours, which gives you a brief moment of concern. You walk to the side of the bed and stand still, watching him intently until you see the rise and fall of his chest confirming he’s alive.

You head downstairs and see that Changbin, Han and Charlotte are in the living room. You join them, watching TV for a while before Changbin suggests getting supplies for tomorrow. You go to the store with them to buy various New Year’s Eve accessories for everyone. Then, on a whim, take an hour-long detour to purchase fireworks. Changbin tries to assure you they’re the perfectly legal kind, but Han can’t lie to save his life.

You text Hyunjin and Chan to let them know where you are, though you’re sure they’re already aware. When you make it back to the house it’s nearly 5:00pm and the sun has already set. You feel like most of the day has been spent on nonsensical, illegal errands but at least it’s still winter break and you don’t have to worry about waking up for a class tomorrow.

Han and Charlotte immediately go off to his room when you make it back inside, while Changbin and Rhiannon hangout in the kitchen. They mention something about ordering takeout for dinner and you tell them whatever is fine as you make your way to the basement where Hyunjin and Chan are.

They’re in the midst of playing pool. Hyunjin, clad in a pair of black Adidas track pants and a long-sleeved white t-shirt looks up at you and smiles when you enter. He has a thin headband in his hair, keeping it out of his face and putting that striking new eyebrow piercing on full display.

Chan has his back to you. He’s dressed equally as comfortable in his typical sweatpants and plain black t-shirt.

“We were just talking about you,” Hyunjin announces.

Chan turns around and greets you with a smile as well.

“Oh yeah?” you ask suspiciously. “What about me?”

“All good things,” Hyunjin replies.

“Only good things,” Chan adds.

You squint your eyes at them, “Uh-huh. Sure.”

You stop at the pool table, surveying the game. Whoever is stripes is losing badly

“Wanna take over? I suck.” Hyunjin offers you the pool cue.

“I’m no better,” you say.

“Let’s start a new game,” Chan suggests. “You two can be a team.”

You take the pool cue from Hyunjin, and he busies himself with racking the balls at the opposite end of the table. You walk over to Chan and nudge him with your shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, placing his hand around your waist to pull you close. “Ready to lose?”

“Never,” you say, pushing him away.

Hyunjin finishes setting up the new game then disappears behind the bar. He returns with three drinks—beers for them and a White Claw for you.

“Are we placing bets?” you ask, cracking the top of the can open and taking a sip.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Hyunjin says. “We probably will lose.”

Chan nods confidently and you roll your eyes.

“Alright, let’s get warmed up then,” you say, stepping away from the table to set your drink on the bar.

“You guys wanna break?” Chan asks, chalking up the end of his cue.

You and Hyunjin share a look before both shaking your heads.

Chan laughs as he walks to the end of the pool table and bends over. He lines the cue up with the white ball and slides it between his fingers a few times before thrusting forward with so much power that all the other balls are sent in various directions across the table. He sinks a stripe and tosses a wink in your direction.

He goes twice more before it’s your turn. It’s a good thing you didn’t place any bets. You go to take your turn and your form is terrible, you don’t know what you’re doing. Hyunjin comes to assist you, offering a few tips. He stands behind you, placing one hand on your hip and one hand on your arm to help line you up.

“I don’t know if I’d listen to him,” Chan quips. “He might be worse than you.”

You do your best to ignore him and take your shot, but he’s right. You don’t hit anything.

The next time it’s your turn, Chan comes to your aid.

“It’s all about maths,” he says, placing his hands on you in the same way Hyunjin had, but he’s standing much closer. You feel your body get warmer and instinctively lean into him more. You can’t help it. “Geometry. You see the solid green ball?”

Your eyes flicker to where he’s pointing, but you could be looking at a rainbow-colored ball for all you know.

There have been very few times that it’s just been you, Chan and Hyunjin. And never simply hanging out for the hell of it. The relaxed mood of winter break and nearly empty house has provided this opportunity. However, it leaves you feeling uncertain about how to act. You’re not necessarily a completely different person around them alone…but you feel slightly apprehensive about showing either of them flirtatious or sexual attention in a shared setting.

“You can make a bank shot if you hit it at the right angle,” he tells you, bringing your attention back to the game as he guides your cue to the white ball. “Hit it right there—but you gotta use the right amount of force.”

Hyunjin is leaning against the wall, watching and rolling his eyes.

“Listen to this guy,” he scoffs and sips his beer. “Like he’s a professional or something.”

“Try it,” Chan says, stepping back to give you room.

You want to tell him to come back, that you still need more instructions. But how would that make Hyunjin feel? For you to so blatantly yearn for Chan’s touch right in front of him? You doubt that it would upset him…but would he be turned off by it? It is your day to be with him after all, not Chan.

You take a deep breath and shake your head, focusing on the green ball and where you need to hit it. You do exactly as Chan told you and it works.

You stand up straight with a smile on your face.

“What were you saying?” Chan asks Hyunjin.

Hyunjin says nothing, just sips from his beer again.

You take another turn and miss. You frown.

“Baby steps,” Chan consoles you.

Even with your newfound knowledge, you and Hyunjin still lose the game. Changbin yells down when the food arrives, but the three of you collectively decide to play again instead. Hyunjin and Chan continue their banter, and you feel somewhat like a pawn in their arguments. But not in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable. If anything, it helps you ease into being around them both simultaneously. Something you’ve wanted from the very beginning.

When it’s Chan’s turn to shoot, Hyunjin comes to your side, holding or touching you in some way. And when it’s Hyunjin’s turn, Chan does the same. The fact that they both seem comfortable with it and aren’t making a big deal out of it makes you feel a little better about being so blatantly shared by them.

“If I make this,” Hyunjin says, lining up his next shot. “You have to kiss me.”

Chan, standing next to you with his arm around your waist, pulls you closer to himself but keeps his eyes on the table. You look at the set up as well—the ball Hyunjin is aiming for is literally right next to the side pocket. It’d be nearly impossible to miss. He knows he’ll make it. He wants to kiss you right here? In front of Chan?

You offer a shrug in response, for lack of anything better to do. You don’t want to offend either of them. Touching and caressing, even like they did in the hot tub, is one thing, but full on kissing? Is that not too much? You look back and forth between them—both completely unbothered by the suggestion, though Chan’s grip around your waist seems to tighten.

Hyunjin shoots and sinks the ball in the side pocket, then stands with a proud smile plastered to his face. He saunters towards where you’re standing near the bar and your pulse quickens. Chan drops his hand from your waist and leaves your side, heading to the pool table. Your eyes remain on him as he picks up the chalk to rub across the tip of his cue. Is he giving you some privacy or something?

Hyunjin hooks a finger under your chin, forcing you to turn and look at him.

Your eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips to yours. You start to pull back—assuming it would be just a quick peck—but Hyunjin’s hand moves to the back of your head and holds you in place. His tongue snakes out, slipping past your lips and into your mouth. It’s been over two weeks since you last felt his soft, plump lips against yours. Two weeks since you’ve tasted him. You’d forgotten how much you missed it.

Hyunjin breaks the kiss, pulling away from you with a smile. You feel your face flush and instinctively look towards Chan. He’s watching you both, nodding with his tongue caught between his teeth on the side. You don’t know what to make of that look.

“It’s still your turn, Hyunjin.” he states.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin agrees. “It is my turn.”

He leans forward again to capture your lips. You laugh and push him away, back towards the table to play. You’re well aware of how long it’s been since he’s had you. It is, most definitely, his turn. As crude as it sounds.

Hyunjin shoots again but misses.

“I’m disoriented,” he attests.

Chan walks around the table, looking at the remaining options. When he sees a shot to take, he stops and bends over to line up his cue.

“If I make this, you have to kiss me, y/n.”

You do your best to keep a straight face. It’s the start of winter and the basement should feel much colder, but you’re warm all over. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s these men that seem hellbent on driving you insane.

Chan doesn’t give you an opportunity to agree or not. He shoots, and sinks it in. Of course he does. He straightens himself with a smile and beckons you over with a jerk of his head. You slide off your stool and he leans back against the pool table. As soon as you’re close enough, he reaches for your hip with his free hand and pulls you to him. You let out a quick gasp at the sudden movement. You’re pressed directly against him. You can hear your pulse thumping furiously and you can feel Hyunjin’s eyes on you.

Chan looks down at you, waiting. You slowly push up onto your tiptoes. This is a first for you—kissing one guy then another within a span of minutes. Chan doesn’t seem bothered by it at all. You have to remind yourself this isn’t their first rodeo. Though, you don’t want to think too much on that. You tilt your head back, getting the angle right as your head moves closer to his. When your lips connect, he kisses you back hungrily, almost as if asserting his dominance or expressing his need for you more.

He moves your hips against him, and you can feel cock. He’s hard. He likes this.

You break the kiss and take a step back, eyes still shut. You don’t want to open them. You don’t want to look at either of them right now. You contemplate taking off up the stairs to hide out in the den for the rest of the night. But you wouldn’t do that…you couldn’t. Not when you’re kinda starting to enjoy this too.

The sound of Chan shooting again causes your eyes to snap open just in time to see him scratch.

“I’m disoriented,” he mimics Hyunjin.

It’s now your turn. You slide past Chan and walk to the other side of the table, looking at the remaining balls. You don’t have many options.

“If I make this,” you say, settling on a shot and lining up your cue. “You both have to kiss each other.”

You spare a glance up at both of them to see their shocked expressions and grin. Good. They can have a taste of their own medicine.

But you miss.

“I’m disoriented,” you sass.

“Thank God for that,” Hyunjin says and you all laugh.

You play the remainder of the game without any more kissing. You and Hyunjin still wind up losing. Again. You start to rack up for another game when Hyunjin excuses himself to the bathroom.

As soon as he turns to leave, Chan comes up behind you and puts his hands on your hips. He spins you around to face him.

“Chan,” you warn, placing your hands on his chest.

“Hmmm?” he picks you up and sets you on the pool table, not giving you a chance to say anything else before his lips collide with yours.

His mouth and hands are needy, all over you the moment he has you alone. You feel powerless to him when he’s like this—how could you deprive him of what he so desperately wants? You kiss him back and wrap your legs around his waist.

His hand finds one of yours and guides it between you, placing it on his hard cock. You bite down on his bottom lip before pulling away from the kiss as you squeeze his cock between your fingers.

“I’ve thought of all the different ways I could fuck you on this table over the last hour,” he asserts, trailing kisses along your jawline and down the side your neck.

“We can’t,” you reply.

He slips his hand beneath your sweatshirt to palm your breast.

“You don’t want me to?”

He forces you down onto the table with one hand and lifts your sweatshirt with the other. He pulls down the cup of your bra, and you let out a deep breath. You know you’d let him take you right here, even if the whole house were in the room.

“Tell me to stop,” he says, removing his hand from your shoulder as he leans down over you, taking your nipple into his mouth.

He swirls his tongue around it, keeping his eyes on yours, daring you to stop him. When you don’t, he pulls down the other side of your bra and latches his mouth on to that nipple.

“But, Hyunjin—”

He bites down on your nipple at that, and you gasp. He releases your nipple from his mouth and blows cool air over it, watching as it hardens.

“You’re mine, yeah?” he asks.

You keep your mouth shut and nod in response.

“You do what I want,” he pinches both of your nipples between his fingers, “when I want.”

“But what if he—”

You’re cut off again when he pinches your nipples harder, pulling on them and making you arch your back. The pain he’s inflicted sends shockwaves straight to your pussy. You don’t know how much of this she can take before turning completely feral. You bite on your lip to keep from crying out.

With your legs hooked around him, you pull him closer to you, wanting to grind yourself against him.

“There she is,” he says with a crooked smile. “I hope I didn’t spoil you too much on the trip.”

He continues to pinch and pull at your nipples.

“The things I said don’t change anything about this.”

The last few days of your vacation had been gentle…some might say loving. You hadn’t assumed he’d turned a new leaf sexually, though. You know what he likes, you know what he wants from you.

He releases your nipples and hooks a finger in the middle of your bra, using it to bring you up to him. He lets go when you’re upright and your sweatshirt falls, covering you up.

“When Hyunjin comes back down,” he says, hands caressing your thighs. “I want you to go upstairs and change into something more comfortable. No panties. No bra. Then come back here.”

Your mind immediately begins racing about why he would want you to do that, but you know better than to question him at a time like this.

“Okay?”

“Yes, Chan.”

He takes a step back and you lower yourself from the table just as Hyunjin returns. You slide away from Chan and head for the stairs, passing Hyunjin on your way.

“You leaving?”

“I’ll be back,” you tell him. “Just going to change.”

He nods at that, and you leave him behind. On your way to follow Chan’s instructions, you see Changbin and Rhiannon cuddled up on the couch. They don’t pay you any attention as you pass by, too caught up in whatever they’re watching. You scurry along to Hyunjin’s room and contemplate what to wear. What does he even mean by something comfortable? You settle on a pair of gym shorts and leave your sweater on but take off the bra beneath it, and put your hair up into a ponytail.

When you return to the basement, the lights above the pool table and bar are off. Just the soft glow of the TV against the back wall illuminates the room. You walk towards it and spot both Hyunjin and Chan seated on opposite ends of the sofa. You take a seat between them with Hyunjin on your left and Chan on your right. Hyunjin tosses a large blanket over you and you hug it tightly to you.

You sit with your legs folded on the couch, body rigid as you overthink which way, if any, you should lean.

Chan controls the TV, scrolling through various movie options. He doesn’t ask what anyone else cares to see before settling on one. Your eyes are very much looking at the screen, but they’re not focused. You don’t know what he picked. Your mind is still trying to figure out why he wanted you to change and if either of them would be offended should you choose to lay on one of them and not the other.

The movie starts to play, and you immediately recognize that the audio is in Korean. Chan is fucking with you, per usual. He knows there’s no way you’ll be able to concentrate on the film and read the subtitles while you’re sitting between them without any underwear on.

“You comfortable?” Chan’s voice breaks into your thoughts.

You don’t know if he means in general or if you’ve followed his instructions on getting comfortable. You turn to look at him and nod your head in response.

“Lay down,” he says softly but it’s not a request.

With Chan, he’s always in control.

With Hyunjin, it’s an equal balance between the two of you, and never to the extent of what Chan does.

You want to ask which way but you’re feeling all out of sorts at the dynamics. Showing yourself to be completely submissive in front of Hyunjin feels strange, but for all you know, he’s already aware. You don’t know what things they talk about amongst themselves.

You’re still looking at Chan when you feel Hyunjin’s hand on your shoulder. He pulls you to him, laying you against his side. He leaves his hand wrapped around you. You exhale a small breath and snuggle up to him, readjusting yourself so your legs are curled on the couch.

Chan lifts the blanket and pulls some of the excess fabric to cover his lap. He then brings your legs across his thighs and starts to caress them.

You revert your attention to the screen, still unaware of what movie is playing, but you can’t look anywhere else. Not at Chan, not at Hyunjin. You’re not stupid. You know something is about to happen, but not knowing what is bothering you.

Several minutes pass and you start to think maybe, just maybe you’re only going to watch the movie. Maybe Chan just wanted you to get changed, to know that you’re going commando. You know better than that, though.

His hand rubbing your leg slides up to your thigh, high enough to brush against the hem of your shorts with every caress. You tense up a little and Hyunjin begins to rub your arm. Chan moves your legs with his other hand so they’re side by side. He taps thrice on your thigh with his fingers and after this long with him, he doesn’t even have to say anything. You readjust yourself, shifting your hips to create a space between your thighs for him.

Chan resumes caressing the inside of your thigh, his hand inching higher and higher each time until his fingers brush against your pussy. He rubs along your slit with his finger, and you try your very best to remain still. You don’t know if Hyunjin is in on this. If not, are you supposed to contain yourself? Chan must know you won’t be able to.

You keep still until he slips a finger inside and you involuntarily squirm against him. You feel Hyunjin’s hand pause its movement on your arm. You can’t bring yourself to look up at him.

Your uncertainties are answered when his hand leaves your arm and dips beneath the blanket. He slips it beneath your sweatshirt, up your stomach and to your breasts.

Your head snaps up to look at him.

“No?” He asks innocently, and even Chan freezes his movements.

You don’t know if your shock stems from the fact that Hyunjin must be in on this too, or the idea of what is actually happening. This is something you have never done before, but you can’t deny that you want to. You’ve experienced them separately and here they are, offering you both of them simultaneously. And, apparently, giving you the choice to proceed or not.

Seeing the contemplative look in your eyes, Hyunjin begins to knead your breasts. Your eyes flutter shut as you allow yourself to focus on only what you’re feeling. His long, slender hands handle your breasts with a remembered ease. He divides his attention between both of them and you feel the familiar shockwaves sending tingles straight to the nerves of your clit. You clench your pussy around Chan’s finger and slowly open your eyes as you nod.

Being with two men at once is not something you had ever considered before…but where else could you try it safely besides here?

You lean back against Hyunjin and Chan continues slipping his finger in and out of your moistening pussy. Having both of them touching you has your brain on the fritz again.

“Take his cock out,” Chan speaks a command you never thought you’d hear.

Under his direction, you don’t think twice about lifting yourself up to push down Hyunjin’s pants. He lifts his hips, and you slide them down along with his boxers, freeing his cock. It springs up towards you. You take delight at the sight of it, already hard for you while Chan’s fingers continue to slowly pump in and out of your pussy. Is Chan hard too?

You lick your lips, hesitating on your next move.

You glance back at Chan who gives you a quick nod. You then turn to look up at Hyunjin.

“Ours.” His tone and that word are all that you need to help settle your spiking emotions.

Even though his statement directly opposes what you told Chan earlier, Hyunjin is correct. You belong to them both. They can enjoy you together. And you them. However, it’s not lost on you that Chan seems to be calling the shots.

You readjust your body once more and grip the base of Hyunjin’s cock, his hands still fondling your breasts beneath your sweatshirt. You lower your head towards his pulsating member and take it in your mouth. You hear a groan and honestly, you’re not sure which of them it came from.

You feel Chan’s cock twitch beneath your legs on his lap. For a brief moment you wonder if someone might try to come down to the basement and catch you all in quite a predicament. Everyone that’s home, though, seemed preoccupied themselves. And this is the SKZ house, after all. It probably would not be a first.

You begin to bob your head up and down on Hyunjin’s cock as you rock your hips against Chan’s fingers. You’re unable to fully wrap your head around what is happening so you try not to think about it any further, or anything else for that matter. You want to focus on what you’re feeling—pleasing and being pleased at the same time.

You let out a muffled moan as Chan’s thumb finds your clit. He applies gentle pressure and rubs it in circles. You continue to moan around Hyunjin’s cock and the sounds of your pleasure must set Chan off. In the next instant he withdraws his fingers and moves the blanket off you. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you up so you’re on your knees. He yanks down your shorts and palms your ass as you arch your back and stick it out towards him even more.

The change in position allows him better access to you, and you to Hyunjin. Hyunjin adjusts his hands, placing one on the back of your head while the other continues to grope your breasts.

Chan then turns sideways, resting one leg on the couch. He spreads your cheeks apart and then his mouth is all over your pussy while you greedily gobble Hyunjin’s cock. Chan alternates licking between your folds, fucking you with his tongue, and slurping your juices.

You grip the base of Hyunjin’s cock and stroke him as you lift your head for air. His hand moves to your neck, and he uses a finger to turn your head to face him. He leans forward to kiss you. You squeeze your eyes shut as you kiss him back, the sounds that escape your lips are something between a moan and whimper. Your hips are circling against Chan’s face of their own accord, your hand stroking Hyunjin, your tongue in his mouth. You feel like you could lose it.

You break the kiss.

“You feel good?” Hyunjin asks with a sly smile, tugging on your nipple beneath your sweatshirt.

“Too good,” you say. The wanton expression on your face reveals just how good you feel.

“I told you she’d like it,” he says to Chan.

Your head spins at his words. This was Hyunjin’s idea?

“Of course she does.” Chan pulls his face away from your pussy to respond.

You take your hand off Hyunjin’s cock and move away from Chan’s touch too. Your mind is racing, wondering when this was planned. Before you came back home? After you went upstairs? You truly thought that this had to of been Chan’s idea. If they were both in on this, you don’t want to feel like a complete bystander the entire time.

You’re on your knees still, but now fully upright when you look over to Chan.

“Take your pants off,” you tell him.

“Oh, she’s getting into it,” Hyunjin remarks with a light chuckle. You turn to him and silence his laughter with one look.

“And your shirts. Both of you.”

While they remove their clothing you maneuver the blanket so it’s under you and remove your own top before sitting down. You place a hand on each of their thighs, pulling on them until they both get the hint to slide closer to you. You bring your right hand to your mouth, spit on it, then place it on Chan’s cock. You do the same with your left for Hyunjin.

It gives you great satisfaction to see both of their heads hit the back of the couch as you start stroking them in sync. It’s nice to silence them after their smart comments.

Hyunjin’s hand is on you again, caressing up your side, past your ribs and over to your breasts. You turn to your left to kiss him and as you do, Chan lifts your right leg and drapes it between his. His hand, like a magnet, is on your pussy again, rubbing your clit with his fingers. You drape your left leg across Hyunjin, spreading yourself wide open between them.

You break the kiss with Hyunjin and turn to Chan. You lean towards him, slightly, and when he moves to meet you the rest of the way, you duck your head down to put your mouth on his cock. He grunts, placing his hand on the back of your head to force you down on him. You keep stroking Hyunjin with your left hand as your right hand and mouth work on Chan.

“Fuck, y/n. Your mouth feels fucking amazing,” Chan tells you.

You’d smile at that if your mouth wasn’t full of his cock.

You lift your head and move over to your left—Hyunjin’s turn again. You stroke him and bob your head up and down. You’re thankful to have this task, alternating back and forth between licking, sucking, and stroking their cocks to slightly distract you from the feeling of Hyunjin’s hands on your breasts and Chan’s on your pussy. You’d surely have flown off the rails by now without it.

You feel a hand on the back of your neck, but you don’t know who’s it is. It squeezes gently and pulls you upright. It moves to the front of your neck and pushes you back against the couch. You keep your hands gripped firmly around each of their cocks, switching up your pace from fast to slow. You slide your hands up to their tips, smearing around the clear liquid oozing out of them.

You look down to see that it’s Chan’s hand around your throat. Hyunjin’s hand replaces his on your pussy and you slide down on the couch a little, giving him room to enter you.

“Kiss me,” Chan breathes into your ear.

Your head snaps in his direction and you have no time to even think about the fluids you’re all swapping. Your lips are on his, his hand still gripping your throat as Hyunjin fucks you with his fingers. Hyunjin leans towards you from the other side, kissing, nipping, biting your neck. You keep stroking them both, adding more spit as needed. Your hips move back and forth rapidly against Hyunjin’s fingers while Chan uses his other hand to rub your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant between kissing Chan.

“Yeah?” He keeps your head pressed back against the couch.

“Yes, yes,” you reply.

Hyunjin’s other hand goes to your breasts again, pinching and pulling at your nipples. Your body begins to shake as you cry out for more.

“You gonna come for us?” Chan asks, slowing his movements against your clit to tease you.

You look him in the eye as you nod.

“Tell me what you are,” he demands, picking up the pace of his fingers.

You open your mouth to respond, but don’t know what answer he’s looking for. He slows his fingers down again, to which you pout. Does he want to hear that you’re his? Or theirs?

“Look at you,” he says. He uses his hand on your neck to guide your head, showing you where to look.

The three of you are all tangled together. Your hands on them, their hands in you, on you, choking you, pinching you.

Hyunjin’s mouth moves to your ear, nibbling on your lobe before whispering two words.

“Our slut.”

Chan turns your head back to him before you can even get caught up in the semantics of what Hyunjin has just said.

“Respectfully,” Chan adds with a stern look.

The word absolutely has negative connotations but here, with them, you know they don’t mean it as an insult. Considering your current predicament, you can even agree with their use of the word. But because it’s them, because you know them, you know how they feel for you—it feels shockingly endearing to hear.

“Say it,” Chan commands, moving his fingers rapidly against your clit again as Hyunjin presses harder against the walls of your pussy, each time he withdraws his fingers.

Hyunjin replaces his fingers on your nipple with his mouth, sucking on it.

“I’m—I’m—oh, fuck—” you can’t form a simple sentence between your whimpering and moaning.

Chan forces your head back against the couch once more, squeezing tighter around your throat. You feel like your entire body could fucking explode. You grit your teeth together, focusing the few remaining active brain cells you have left to speak.

“I’m your slut,” you manage to eke out.

Chan groans at this and covers your mouth with his again. Hyunjin bites down on your nipple and that, combined with Chan’s tongue greedily invading your mouth sends you flying off the top of Mount fucking Everest with no parachute.

Your hands, still gripped around their cocks, stop their movements as you give way to an earth-shattering orgasm. Your body thrashes around as you whine into Chan’s mouth. They don’t stop touching you, even as the spasms subside.

When you finally open your eyes, the world around you feels like a blur, but you’re still very much aware of the two men beside you, now gently caressing your body.

They don’t give you much time to recover.

“He’s gonna fuck you now,” Chan announces.

Your legs feel weak and your thighs quiver as you try to bring them back together. As much as you’d like a reprieve, your greediness for them is more prevalent.

Hyunjin slips off the couch and gets on his knees on the floor. He slides you down too, then turns you around. Chan moves over so your upper body is between his legs. He’s stroking his cock as he watches Hyunjin handle you.

Hyunjin pulls you back by your hips until your ass and thighs are pressed against him, letting you feel his cock as it gets hard again. He caresses your ass, then up your back before slowly pushing you down. You have nowhere to look but Chan.

That’s not a complaint, though. He’s the very essence of confidence seated in front of you, hand on his cock. Your eyes trail down from his, past his muscular shoulders and ripped abdomen to his cock, eyeing it hungrily.

You sway your hips from side to side until Hyunjin holds you in place and you whine in protest. You need one of them inside. Somehow, someway. His grip on you is tight as he starts to tease your slit, spreading your slick all around. You move Chan’s hand out of the way to take over stroking him.

“Wait,” he says, hooking a finger under your chin to bring your eyes back to him.

His gaze flickers up to Hyunjin and he gives a curt nod before looking back down at you. You feel the tip of Hyunjin’s cock at your opening and your first instinct is to close your eyes and drop your head.

“Look at me,” Chan orders.

You keep your eyes locked on him, biting your lower lip as Hyunjin, at a painstakingly slow rate, enters you. A moan escapes your lips when he’s finally buried in, to the hilt. He pulls out just as slowly, then thrusts forward with force, the sound of his thighs hitting yours is loud in the quiet basement.

Chan drops his finger from your chin, and you position your mouth over his cock. You spit on it, then work your hand around it to lather it up before gripping at the base and stroking him while Hyunjin fucks you from behind. You press the tip of Chan’s cock to your lips. You kiss it, then smack it against your lips a couple times, making him groan.

“Stick your tongue out,” he says, reaching up to take out your hair tie and let your hair fall around your face. “And keep doing that.”

You open your mouth, stick out your tongue, and do as you’re told.

“Fuck,” he tangles his hands in your hair. When he has a good grip, he forces your head down onto him. All. The. Way. You relax your jaw and tongue and breathe through your nose to accommodate the abrupt invasion.

Hyunjin delivers a smack to your ass as he plows into you, and you moan around Chan’s cock.

“Do that again,” Chan tells him.

Hyunjin grunts, rubbing your ass before smacking it again, harder than the first time. The sounds you make are muffled, with Chan’s cock in your mouth, but he can feel the vibrations.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Hyunjin says as he completely pulls out of you. He rubs the tip of his cock against your dripping pussy. “You like fucking us both, jagiya?”

Chan slightly releases his grip on your hair, allowing you to lift your head. His cock falls from your mouth, and it’s coated in your saliva, as is your chin.

“I do,” you admit. You couldn’t lie if you wanted to. “I really do.”

You resume stroking Chan with one hand while the other slides up his torso and across his abs. You lower your mouth back onto him, sucking and stroking in unison as Hyunjin slams back into you. The motions from Hyunjin’s deep and fast strokes help move your mouth on Chan’s cock.

“Shit—y/n, slow down,” Chan gasps suddenly. He uses his hands in your hair to try and pull you away. You shake your head, mouth still wrapped around his cock. You look him dead in the eyes as you start moving your hips to fuck Hyunjin back. They both made you crumble. Now it’s their turn.

“Fuck me harder, Hyunjin,” you say, holding Chan’s cock at an angle to lick up the shaft from base to tip, keeping your eyes on his.

“I’m gonna come, jagiya,” Hyunjin moans from behind you, pounding into you even harder.

“Please,” you reply. And you don’t know what comes over you with the words that fly out of your mouth next. “Fill up your little fucking slut. Both of you.”

Hyunjin grunts, his breath coming out in spurts as he comes.

“My fucking God,” Chan groans.

You put your mouth back on his cock and his hands fall from your hair. He leans back against the couch, resigned to letting you continue as he watches with a clenched jaw, shaking his head, but he doesn’t break eye contact either as he comes in your mouth.

You keep sucking his cock and rocking your hips back against Hyunjin.

Hyunjin is the first to pull away after he’s finished spilling himself inside your pussy. He withdraws himself completely. When Chan’s body finishes jerking, you slide your mouth off him.

“Show me,” he says.

You open your mouth to show him.

“Good girl. Swallow.”

You close your mouth and gulp down his fluids.

In the next instant he slides to the edge of the couch and pulls you against him, kissing you. It’s a hard, but simple kiss. When he pulls back, his brown eyes are filled with an emotion you can’t put a name to. A soft smile spreads across his face as he leans his forehead against yours.

“I told you I can share,” he whispers quietly enough for only you to hear.

He leans back against the couch then jerks his head towards Hyunjin. You turn around to see him splayed out on the ground, catching his breath. You let out a laugh and crawl over to him. He turns his head to you.

“Who are you even?” he asks, exasperated.

You lower yourself down to kiss him, just as hard as Chan had kissed you. Hyunjin moans, grabbing the back of your head to hold you against him as his tongue slips past your lips, his tongue swirling around yours. You relax into the kiss. Not a few hours ago you would have been concerned about kissing him like this after everything that has just transpired, but not anymore. You’re theirs just as much as they are yours. For now.

After wiping yourselves down, the three of you end up pulling the pillows down from the couch onto the floor and use the other spare blankets to make a pallet to lay on top of. You lay in the middle of Chan and Hyunjin but at some point, end up cuddled up to Hyunjin. He’s truthfully the better snuggler. You don’t know when you fell asleep but when you open your eyes again, you don’t even know what time it is. There’s a new movie playing, and a hand has crept between your thighs.

You lift your head from Hyunjin’s chest to see he’s still sleeping. You turn to look over your shoulder and see Chan wide awake, looking at you. He grabs your hand and brings it to his cock. It’s hard, and a look of need is ablaze in his eyes.

“You’re insatiable,” you whisper, rolling over towards him.

“I didn’t have enough,” he whispers back. “I need to fuck you, too, y/n.”

He sits up, with his back against the couch and pulls you onto him. He brings his hand to his mouth to spit on before rubbing it against your pussy, then around his dick. He lowers you down on to him and lets out a long sigh. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your bare chest against his.

He quietly fucks you. Very little is said. You’re not surprised by how quickly you become wet for him and start fucking him back.

Even with a comatose Hyunjin next to you, this doesn’t feel as awkward as you may have once assumed. It doesn’t feel sneaky, doesn’t feel like cheating. They both can have you whenever they want, and you them.

a/n: 10 pages in the word doc of pure smut for you guys. how was it?

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