#if you find me in the crawlspace under my house mind your business.

[jayda-is-high]

don't you just love back-to-school season?!

[aressss1]

Through Fire and Ice Chapter 12

(Technoblade x Reader)

Chapter 12

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A/N: Warning: Mentions of depression, suicide, and gore. Stay safe guys!

~~~~~~

You were in your home, legs propped up on the arm of the couch, nose buried deep in a book. You had put your small library to use for the last couple days. Techno still came over to see you, but you hadn’t seen Dream in a while. You wondered what he was up to. You found yourself skimming and ultimately forgetting what you had just read in your book by a few paragraphs. You sigh, today was just not your day for focusing on the things you wanted to focus on.

 You groaned, deciding on taking a walk through the burrow, to take your mind off of things. Depression was starting to set in. You couldn’t keep your mind off how long you had been down here. You hadn’t seen the sun in what felt like a very long time. Others were feeling the same way as you, hopeless… What was the point of… just surviving?

You took a nice long walk, trying to keep your head clear. Keeping your eyes down, because you kept getting weird looks from some of the people you had passed. You wished you could find Techno, but he was off mining Phil’s mine, you had no idea where to even find him, he could be off exploring another mineshaft, and you didn’t want to risk getting lost in one of those. You stopped at the edge of the beacon. Iron blocks underneath held it up, it seemed like such a waste of resources to you… Not that you knew anything about beacons.

 “You look confused.” You looked over to see Phil just feet away from you. “Anything that I can help with?” He walked over to you, a smile gracing his lips at the sight of you.

 “Why do we need this beacon?” You ask, your foot kicking at one of the iron blocks. Phil chuckled, his fingers tapping on the iron.

 “It increases productivity in mining.” Phil explained. “When we go to expand this cavern, we will be able to clear out more in a small amount of time, than normal. It’s what we used in the beginning.” Phil recalled the events from a little over a month ago. “It’s helping the new arena right now.”

 “Arena?” You questioned your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why do we need an arena?” Phil sighed at your question.

 “Something for people to do…” Phil had a distant look in his eyes. “People aren’t able to cope, we’ve lost a few people…” You bit your lip, not questioning it further. “Anyway…” He cleared his throat, changing the subject. “We have a meeting tonight; will you be there?”

 “Yeah, seeing as I wasn’t able to come to the last one.” You nodded giving him a smile. Your heart sinking for those who weren’t here anymore.

 “Good, I can’t wait to see you there. Techno will probably be back by then too.” You perked up at the mention of Techno. Phil’s eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face. “Techno’s almost done with the mine in general, and he mentioned that you like books…” He faced toward the beacon, the light highlighting his face.

 “Yeah?” You stood shoulder to shoulder with him, leaning your head back to look toward the ceiling where the beacon met the stone above.

 “Has he told you what exactly he’s digging for?” He pauses waiting for your answer. When you shake your head, he continues. “One of the biggest libraries I’ve ever seen. I have plans for when he breaks through. You can take your pick of the books you want, just as long as I don’t need them first.” He gave you a wink. Feeling your face light up, you gave him the biggest smile. He chuckled, putting a hand on your shoulder. You hated that you still flinched at his touch, but you were still working on it. “Hopefully that library will hold the key to getting the world back to normal.” He huffed, his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, as he went into deep thought. You cocked your head at him.

 “You think that library is going to tell us how to fix all of this?” You motioned at everything in general, sounding a little skeptical. Biting the inside of your cheek, your eyes search his face. He seemed unsure… Maybe this was why he didn’t tell everyone in the Burrow? Maybe he didn’t want to give them false hope. Maybe…

 “I’ve got to try…” He had a faraway look in his eyes as he sighed. “I’m the reason we’re all down here in the first place.” He sounded extremely guilty. You were about to ask him what he meant when a voice called your name behind you, you didn’t have to look to know it was Dream.

 “What are you doing?” He sounded happy to see you. When he trotted up by your side your eyes land on him. He didn’t have his mask on… Nor a shirt, and he was drench in sweat. You had to stop yourself from looking over his sculpted body.

 “Hey Dream! I’m just taking a walk to clear my head. What are you doing?” You gave him a smile, as he ran his hand through his hair. His green eyes softened when he searched your face. He subconsciously stepped closer to you, which annoyed Phil to no end.

 Phil watched the interaction between the two of you, he didn’t dare say anything to ruin the moment. He wanted to know your thoughts about Dream, how you reacted to Dream himself. He was an observer, and that wouldn’t change. He couldn’t meddle in whatever this was between you, Dream and Techno.

 “Foolish has got me building for him on the arena.” Dream jerked his thumb behind him. He stepped forward, a worried look on his face, as he towered over you. “You needed to clear your head?” You could hear the concern in his voice. “Can I do anything to help?” He offered and you shook your head.

 “I just miss the sun, that’s all.” You waved your hand at him trying to signify that you were okay. He frowned down at you. He obviously didn’t like your answer. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck, as he looked toward the ceiling in thought.

 “I know something that will cheer you up. Let me get my stuff.” You tried denying him, as you didn’t want to bother him with your problems, but he sprinted off before you could get one word out. You let out a sigh as your eyes trail after him, he disappeared into a crevice in the wall. Was that where the arena was? It made sense, as the hospital was right next door, the participants could be cared for in an instant.

 “Dream’s a good friend, isn’t he?” Phil asked his eyes trained on the crevice Dream disappeared into. He kept his tone light and friendly, but he just… couldn’t put his finger on it. He had a bad feeling, and he always knew to trust his gut.

 “Yeah,��� you let a breath out you didn’t know you had been holding. “He’s the one who built my house for me. He’s shown me a lot of kindness.” You chuckle keeping a light conversation with Phil. By the time Dream had come back he had more clothes on this time, his mask over his face once more.

 “Ready princess?” He held out his hand, to you which you gingerly took, a smile spread across your face. Phil had to stop himself from physically cringing at his nickname for you. You said your goodbyes to Phil, who gave you a half wave, he never took his eyes off Dream. The look on Phil’s face was enough of a warning to Dream. Dream stood tall, not wavering under Phil’s gaze. “See ya later Phil.”

 Dream led you back to your own house, people watching you as the both of you walked by them. They still gave you weird looks and it was starting to get to the point of where you started glaring back at them. You were sick of the looks people gave you.

 “What’s with them?” Dream nudged your shoulder. You shook your head deciding not to make a big deal out of it. “You know you could just ask me to kick their ass for you.” He chuckled, smiling down at you.

 “They’re not worth it, I promise you.” A laugh escaped your lips, your body slightly leaning into his arm.

 “Well…” Dream hesitated, “they might not be worth it… But you are.” Your eyes met and you swore your heart skipped a beat. His voice was rough, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks. He wrapped his arm around you pulling you to him. When the two of you were standing in front of your house, you could see him glance down at you. “So… Sapnap and I found something when we were building the house…”

 You looked up at him in curiosity. Your eyes scanning over what you could see of his face. He stepped forward kneeling at your porch, grabbing at a board. The board was loose, and he easily pulled it off, leaving a small hole that could fit the two of you inside.

 “I kept forgetting about this, but I wanted to show you as soon as I could.” His mask turned back toward you and you squatted down trying to get a good look of what was in the hole. Nothing but darkness, but you felt a cold breeze hit your face. So… that’s why your house was cold. “Come on.” He sat down on the stone as he slid himself into the small crawlspace. You followed suit, as Dream lit a torch, lighting the way down the tunnel.

 If you looked up, you could see through the cracks of the floorboards and into the house. That made you uncomfortable. Dream offered his hand to you, following your gaze.

 “I wanted to show you this to see if you wanted to convert this into a basement, but Schlatt hired me on the building crew for the arena, that’s why I’ve been busy.” Your eyes trace over his silhouette, the light illuminating his face as he turned to look at you.

 “I was wondering why my house was really cold.” You stood closer to him as the two of you went deeper. Eventually he ended up handing you, his coat. Your house was close to a natural cave. It was lit up by torches. Your voices bounced off the walls as the two of you talked. Your hands skimming over the cold stone on the walls. You found yourself getting tired, because there were a lot of uphill slopes and there were times you needed to catch your breath, Dream waited patiently for you.

 “We’re almost there, princess.” He reassured you as he patted your shoulder. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.” He pulled his mask off completely hanging it off his belt. It took a little while and before you knew it, the path widened into a bigger cave. You marveled at the sight before you. Dream spread his arms wide as he turned back to you, his smile causing flutters in your chest. “Well?”

 In front of you, was a frozen waterfall leading down into a shallow looking pool of water. Snow flurried in from the ceiling, where there was a massive hole to the surface. White light shone down over everything. Rough snow covered stone led to the top of the tall waterfall. You looked on in awe, as Dream took your hand pulling you to him.

 “I wanted this to be our special place.” His voice took on an almost sultry tone. “You can see the sun sometimes when you stand on that waterfall.” He pointed to the top of the waterfall as he crouched down as if to get your point of view, his cheek grazing against yours. His arm snaked around your waist pulling you even closer to him. Your face was red, you didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that, but you leaned into his touch, your stomach doing flip flops. “I hope it’s not too cloudy.”

 “Wow…” Was all you could muster, any and all other words got stuck in your throat. Feeling Dream’s laugh rumble in his chest made you look into his sparkling green eyes. Seeing the excitement in his eyes, allowed for a smile to spread on your cheeks.

 “I know it’s cold here, but when we want to be alone…” He trailed off, his eyes flicking down to your lips, as if they were mesmerizing. “We could come here and… Talk.” He cleared his throat, turning his face away to hide the blush dusting his cheeks.

 “I think I’d really like that…”  You giggled, subconsciously stepping closer to him. The two of you made your way to the scene before you, he held your hand as the two of you climbed up the rocks to the top of the waterfall. The water was frozen over and slick, and he held on tighter to you to keep you from falling. The two of you fought the icy wind that whipped around you.

 “Look.” Dream directed your attention to the hole in the ceiling once the two of you were in the right position. Sure enough, you could see the sun peeking out through the clouds. You let out a breath of air you hadn’t known you had been holding. “I know this isn’t what you meant… But I knew I could at least give you something.”

 “I love it, thank you Dream.” You bowed your head to him. “This has been amazing!” You peered down the frozen waterfall, the height of it, making you dizzy. The two of you stayed there at the top of that waterfall, until the two of you couldn’t bear the cold anymore. He was first to move toward the steep rocks that you both had come up from. You chose to take a look around before you made your way over to him. At your movement, even though you didn’t pick up on the sounds like Dream did… He heard a clacking sound emerge from a particularly dark corner. It was a ways away from the two of you.

 It all happened in a second, the yellowing rotting bones of a stray pushing itself up from a sitting position, tattered clothing, and other bits of dry rot dangling from those same bones, the sockets of the skeleton devoid of anything. The bones clacked together, being held together by magic. Phalanges pull back the string of the bow, the sound almost deafening to Dream. An arrow whizzes through the air, toward you grazing your shoulder, only because Dream pulled you out of the way. The action caused you to lose your footing. It was as if the scene played in slow motion.

 You fell backward on the ice, but… You didn’t hit the ground… You had gone over the waterfall. Your hands reached out for Dream, the look on his face was one of horror, he lunged forward grabbing your wrist, the action making you slam against the crag rocks and ice of the waterfall as you dangled. He was on his stomach trying to pull you up, and it would have been easier if the monster above him wasn’t shooting arrows into his back. He tried telling you, it was going to be okay, but with each arrow his grip on you lessened. His hand went slack, and you watched his eyes flutter closed, and you fell. Your eyes stayed on his face as you fell.

 The rocks below you did a number on your body, tiny scratches and cuts littered your body, you mostly slid down the rocks as you fell, you searched for anything to grab on to, but nothing could stop your descent onto the ice below. Your leg felt broken, and you were scared to move your body in fear of what else could be broken. The haze of what happened clouded your mind, and you let out a groan. Which… You really shouldn’t have done that. Because the monster that was still up there made its way down to you. It jumped from the top of the waterfall, without a care for its own health. Bones cracking in places as it impacted, It was just out for blood. It approached your form that lay in the middle of the ice. Its phalanges pulling back the string of the bow once more.

 The arrow whizzed by landing nearby in the ice. You reached in your inventory. Summoning forth your golden apple, you take a bite into it. It didn’t heal everything right away, but you felt… Powerful you rolled to the side just as another arrow landed where you previously were. The pain you felt still was immeasurable, but the apple allowed for your leg to heal, at least just enough.

 You scanned the area; you knew from stories Techno had told you that the effects of the apple wouldn’t last too long so you pushed yourself up. Your muscles sore, you grabbed a nearby rock, throwing it at its skull. It hit, the forehead split open as it recoiled from the rock and you took this as your chance to limp forward grabbing the bow out of its hands. Your body screaming at you to stop. One bite of that apple was enough to heal you to a certain extent. This was your only chance and you had to take it.

 You brought the bow down on its skull, and right before your eyes it cracked, it was done. It crumbled along with the magic that held it together, only a few of the bones survived.

 You fell to your knees, in front of the bones. Tears flowing forward, you felt faint, you needed rest even though your mind pushed for you to stay conscious get out of there, your body disagreed. It wouldn’t be until much later when you woke up again.

 ~~

Techno had no idea where you were. You were probably off hanging out with Niki. He hadn’t seen you all day. His tune quickly changed when he made his way to Niki’s place and he didn’t find you with her. When you weren’t around to do your route, panic started settling in his chest. Niki bit her lip, trying to not be worried herself. If Techno was worried, then she should be worried. That’s how she looked at it.

 “She’ll be okay,” She sounded like she was trying more to convince herself rather than Techno as she stirred the contents of the pot she was working on. Techno went ahead and did your route for you hoping he would see you in the process. He came back empty handed and Niki, gave him a worried look. “Should we wait to see if she’ll be at the meeting tonight?”

 “No,” Techno grunted, “I’m going to see if she’s at her house.” He pulled his cloak tighter around him.

 “I’ll come with you.” Niki couldn’t just sit there; the dirty dishes would still be there when she got back. The two of them set out to find you.

 ~~

 “Ugh…” Your eyes cracked open. You were freezing, feeling the pain of frostbite settle into your skin, your clothes stuck to the ice as you sat up. Your bones cracked and you looked up to the place where you had fallen. Dream was still up there. The golden apple you bit into laid a few feet away from you. You leg still hurt immensely, but you needed to get up there to Dream. You pulled yourself up to your feet, trying not to put too much weight on your leg.

 You pulled yourself up using the bow like a crutch to Dream, who lay there still. The arrows still lodged in his back. The blood caked over him. You had no idea what to do in this situation. Your cries of help were left unheard, as they echo through out the cave. Letting your fingers trace over his pulse, you feel the tears well up, he was still alive, riddled in arrows. Having no prior knowledge about how to dress a wound you felt helpless. People told you to keep arrows in, to lessen bleeding… But with everything that had happened you couldn’t remember if that were common knowledge or just something you had read in a story.  Your mind was too hazy. You opted to break the arrows, so they were shorter.

 You bit your lip grabbing at his arms, draping him against your back. Carrying him down, your weight still on the bow, you have no idea how you managed to get him to the entrance of the cave. Survival at the forefront of your mind, but… He was heavy, nothing but deadweight against you. You listened to his shallow breaths in your ear. You thought about force feeding the apple to him… But you were scared he would choke… You decided you would be better to feed it to him should he regain consciousness. You were truly clueless in all of this… You never needed to know any of this in your old life. Adrenaline alone seemed to be the only thing that kept you going forward.

 Adrenaline… Could only get you so far though… Your body ached, and before too long it had given up on you, and the two of you went tumbling down a particularly steep slope of the cave. Yeah… You weren’t going to get back up from this… Your eyes cracked open, and you were met with darkness… Pure and utter darkness… Being scared of the dark was one thing… Being scared of what lurked beyond it was another. You couldn’t afford another attack…

 You held your bow close to your chest, if anything came at you, at least you didn’t go out without trying to survive. You let out a shaky breath… Taking another breath you let out the loudest scream you could muster.

 “Someone! Anyone!” You were met with silence once more, and that’s when the tears started flowing forth. You were going to die down here… Well… At least you got to see the sun one last time.

 ~~

“What’s this?” Niki crouched down in front of the hole under your house.

 “The reason her house has been cold.” It clicked in his mind, as he started sliding himself into the hole. You had to be in there. Where else could you be if not the ominous hole. Good thing he always kept torches. He led Niki down the tunnel, she walked by his side when the tunnel opened up into a wider path.

 It didn’t take long to find you… Both he and Niki dropped to their knees at your side. While he checked your condition, Niki checked on Dream. You grabbed at his shirt the tears flowing from your eyes still. The sight killed him.

 “It’s okay Darlin’. I’m here.” He cooed in your ear.  “Can you move?” The words stuck in your throat, leaving only sobs to be heard, but you nodded. He cradled you in his arms as he waited for Niki to determine what to do next.

 “Techno…” Niki sounded alarmed at the loss of blood Dream had gone through. “We need to get them out of here.” Her eyes skimmed over your leg… It definitely hadn’t healed in the right position. “You’re going to have to carry him.” Niki winced knowing exactly what she was asking of Techno. Let’s just say Techno was less than thrilled. Niki knew she couldn’t lift Dream,

 “Do you need help with her?” Niki shook her head. This was going to be a painful walk for you, but at least you had Niki to lean on. He grabbed ahold of Dream throwing him over his shoulder, almost haphazardly. The scent of Dreams blood filling his senses. This was going to be a long walk back.

--

The voices swam through his mind as if they were sharks roaming the ocean, sniffing out the blood. Wanting more of it to be shed. He had barely gotten Dream in the front door, setting him on the couch, only to go back to help you into the house. You were in better shape than Dream, so Niki started working on Dream first. He sat on your bed looking down at your purple leg.

 “You used the golden apple, didn’t you?” He had done this himself, and the process to fix it was not a fun one. Memories of Phil having to rebreak his arm to heal it in the right position filled his mind. You nodded, your tears running dry. You were still unable to speak. “That’s the one downside to health items, bones don’t heal right if they’re not in the right position…” He wondered exactly what you had gone through in that tunnel. The voices itched at him to go see what lied at the end of the tunnel. “Darlin’, I’ll be right back. You need to rest as much as you can okay.” Your hand sought his out and he gave your hand a slight squeeze.

 “O-kay.” The word tumbled from your lips, and he let his eyes linger on yours for just a second before he stood.

 “I promise I will be back okay.” He waited for your nod, letting himself back down into the tunnel. What was Dream trying to pull here? He stopped at the spot he found the two of you. His eyes spying a bow. He remembered you had clutched to it before he found you… Maybe he should teach you how to use it. He should have taught you how to fight… Maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation? He didn’t even know half the situation, but hell he was pissed, and that anger was directed at Dream for being careless.

He put the bow in his inventory, and he trudged on. When he got to the end of the tunnel, he knew why Dream had brought you here. He stood at the entrance, his eyes scanning the cave, as he shook his head. Coldness from the outside world seeped in. It didn’t take long to smell your blood as he approached the ice. His nose wrinkled, and the voices called for destruction.

 ‘Blow it up.’

‘Keep her safe.’

‘Burn it all.’

His eyes flooded black, at least he could agree with the voices on one thing… He had just the TNT to blow the place sky high in his ender chest.

 ~~

“The grand opening of the new arena is coming up!” Phil announced, spreading his arms wide. “With the opening of the arena, I’m also continuing the use of emeralds as currency,” Phil’s voice carried through the cavern. The meeting was underway, and he still hadn’t seen you or Techno, he figured the two of you just didn’t want to come, he was okay with that.

 “I’m also opening up a general store.” Schlatt’s voice cut in as he stood and he made his way to Phil, ultimately standing next to him. “A store that you can use your emeralds AND your Schlatt coins in.” Schlatt nailed his customer service voice, Phil could see people perk at the thought of a general store. Phil let him continue his explanation of the Schlatt coin, his eyes scanning over the people. What he was about to say next after Schlatt was done might not make them all happy, but it needed to happen.

 “Now that we have the announcement of the arena out of the way…” Phil started when Schlatt took his seat. Phil cleared his throat, averting his gaze from the ever-judging gaze of Schlatt. “I need to implement some mandates.” His hands locked behind his back. “We are still in need of food… So… I am asking that everyone have their own gardens. Niki can’t keep cooking for the majority anymore. So, everyone needs to pitch in on this food situation.” Grumbles of annoyance could be heard from the crowd.

 “Did you feel that earthquake just a few minutes ago?” An impatient woman asks bypassing the conversation. “What if we’re all crushed? Food is the last thing on my mind right now.” Phil bit his lip, he didn’t have all the answers and he never pretended he did, but now everyone was looking at him expectantly, as if he could fix an earthquake. He couldn’t lie to himself… He thought the same thing when he felt the rumble beneath his feet. But he felt nothing else since then.

 “I’ll be working on that with my top redstone engineer Sam. We will figure everything out.” Phil tried everything to sound professional, but people kept asking him questions. Questions that he couldn’t give them answers for, at least not yet. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar pink head of long hair.

 “Phil.” A man stood from his seat, his eyes leveling with Phil. “When are you going to deal with the hybrid issue?” All eyes landed on the man, and then they switched to Phil, to gauge his reaction.

 “Hy…brid issue?” Phil looked around, while most of the villagers here were human, there were a small handful who were hybrids, Techno and Ranboo included.

 “Don’t act like you don’t know.” The man snarled. “Hybrids are a problem. They’re taking our women,” his eyes landed on Techno, “we don’t need a pig fucker in our midst. She should be banished too.” His eyes slid over to Ranboo, who had the dragon egg sitting in his lap. “Now they’re laying eggs, as if we need more mouths to feed, and more hybrids running around.”  Ranboo let out an offended ‘HEY!’ and Phil couldn’t stop the chaos that ensued. The hybrids against the humans… Phil couldn’t hear himself think with all the shouting. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

 “You’re all dismissed. Hybrid’s are staying, and you aren’t changing that, if you don’t like it, make your own colony.” Phil shouted into the crowd when it started calming down a bit. His eyes burned into the crowd. “I can’t deal with you people.” Shaking his head, he grabbed Techno by the shoulder heading back to their house.

 “Phil…” Techno got his oldest friends’ attention. The voices roared in his mind, calling for blood… For a massacre. After everything else that had gone on today… Techno tried keeping his urges at bay, using his friend as a distraction.

 “What is it Techno?” Phil couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice. He wasn’t mad at Techno, but at being thrust into this position. Had he not been the one to cause this storm, he would have taken Kristen and his boys and left.

 “…That earthquake…” Techno sighed, “It was me.” Phil gave him a puzzled look. “I found her…” Phil knew he was talking about you. “She was with Dream in this tunnel that led from under her house… He almost died. The smell of his blood… I hauled him into her house. But I almost lost control again…” He sucked in a breath, “I needed to get my rage out… So… When I made sure it was okay to go down that tunnel to see what was there, I… Blew it up. It’s nothing but rubble and ash now.”

 “So… That earthquake, was you blowing up whatever was on the other side of the tunnel.” Phil had to stop, seeing Techno nod. He couldn’t blame Techno, but… This was going to be hard to explain to a group of humans who don’t like hybrids. Phil sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

 “She has a broken leg that didn’t heal right… Niki has to rebreak her leg… So, we’re just lucky there’s enough health potion’s this time…” Techno could hide his emotions through his mask, but Philza knew him too well to know that even through his calm demeanor… Techno was devastated. “I blocked off that tunnel.”

 “Good,” Phil swallowed the lump in his throat down. Techno wished it was more of a walk to get to your house, the rage in his blood, had just barely simmered down. But it threatened to bubble back up at the sight of Dream. Dream was resting on the couch, his injuries healed up. Niki had just gone through the process of rebreaking your leg, and now you were force feeding yourself the rest of your golden apple, to help heal your leg in the right position.

 Techno hated every bit of this, but at least you were safe now, and that’s all that mattered. He awkwardly stood to the side, watching Niki poke and prod at your injuries. You were going to be sore for a bit, but at least you would be okay in a few more hours. He crossed his arms over his chest, remembering the man’s words against you… Calling you a pig fucker… He bit his lip and he kneeled by your side when you had fallen asleep. His eyes studying your features. He was here for you now, and he would be here for you always.

 His hand found your cheek, you were out like a light. Even now when you lay still, you were beautiful, making his heart flutter. He leaned down pressing his lips to your forehead, thanking the blood god that you were okay. He was going to have to have a talk with Dream, and it was not going to be a good one.

[moonlit-han]

part ii: filled with sunshine

genre: college au, neighbor au; fluff, humor, slow burn pairing: 3racha x femme reader in poly relationship part word count: 11k part warnings: mature content (18+, specific warnings under the cut), suggestive, explicit language, alcohol consumption request: no a/n: this in no way reflects the actions of stray kids’ bang chan, seo changbin, or han jisung. it is a work of fiction. !! important !!: the author requests that readers be mindful that there is 18+ content in this piece and read only if they are of age. thank you. while the mature content is poetically described, it still exists. and, remember to always get continued and enthusiastic consent as you practice safe sexual habits.

~ read part 1 first! ~

✧ series masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

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mature content warnings: oral (giving, receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cock-warming. again, please read only if you are of age.

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You woke around 10 am on Saturday morning and just lay there in bed, enjoying the memories of the night before. Everything had been hot and almost desperate, but somehow still gentle. And, there was something about not even making it to your bed because you wanted each other too much . . .. Your pulse quickened and you had to squeeze your legs together as you remembered the feeling of his hands exploring every inch of your body, the feeling of his mouth caressing you, that wonderful sense of almost flying. When you looked down at yourself under the sheets, you weren’t surprised to find bruises across your chest and stomach, and were quite glad that it was winter.

Before you’d done anything besides kiss, Jisung had been forthright in saying that he was disease-free and was very careful with who he was intimate with. (You were the one to bring out a box of condoms, since you never knew when you’d need to provide one). You were delighted that he was so aware and honest, clearly taking his actions seriously and taking responsibility for his part in any relationship. Just knowing that had made you relax and, almost, abandon yourself to each and every sensation. You’d made sure to tell him that you were polyamorous, too, making it clear that you were also safe in your habits. Once you’d gotten the talking out of the way, it hadn’t taken long for you to find that your new couch was, surprisingly, quite comfortable to be pressed into.

As he’d pulled his pants back on, Jisung had insisted that he go back to his apartment, saying he had to be up early to go over some notes on a song before meeting with Chan and Changbin at the studio. You also suspected that, despite the two of you just having sex on your couch, he was a bit shy now. Honestly, you couldn’t blame him—if it had all been planned, then maybe he would’ve stayed, but this was all too new, too unexpected.

After stretching to relieve the stiffness in your lower back, you went to shower and get dressed. When you sat down to eat, you brought your phone and that slip of paper with Jisung’s phone number on it so you could message him. It was only right that you did.

y/n: hey babe, last night was really fun

No, that wouldn’t work. I can’t call him “babe” after hooking up only once.

y/n: hi jisung! it’s y/n. just wanted to say than

No, that really wouldn’t work. Thanking him like that would just trivialize the whole experience.

y/n: hey jisung! it’s y/n. last night was absolutely lovely and, let me say, you were fantastic! i’d love to

Nope, now I’m making him sound like a horse that had won a race or something. Damn.

y/n: hey jisung! it’s y/n~ last night was really great and i’d love to see you again. maybe we could get together for dinner one night or to watch a movie? i want to get to know you better!

There. That was good. Okay . . . send!

You sighed, then promptly bolted out of your seat and hid your phone under a cushion on the couch. Not two minutes later, you heard the faint buzz signaling that you’d received a text message.

jisung: hey y/n! ah, i see you used that piece of paper after all ;) i had a lovely time, too! what’s your favorite movie, then? i can try getting it from the library on my way home. jisung: sorry, let me start that bit over again. i’m busy tonight, but are you free next saturday? i’d love to watch a movie with you.

You giggled at Jisung’s evident enthusiasm, and quickly responded.

y/n: yes, i’m free that night :) maybe surprise me with the movie? jisung: a surprise it is, then! your place or mine? y/n: yours? i’ve never seen your apartment and you’ve seen mine a lot… jisung: ….point taken. i’ll have to clean up a little, but i think you’ll like it :) y/n: what time should i come through the connecting door?

You sighed a little as you sent the text. It was more than a little weird that this was how you were going to see Jisung, especially when front doors existed. But, you figured it was only right that you go through that way a few times, since he’d been going back to his apartment like that for months.

jisung: is 7:30 ok? y/n: sure! i’ll see you then… babe ;) jisung: *blushes*

A small noise that sounded suspiciously like an excited “Eeep!” came from Jisung’s apartment, and you grinned, giggling again. Jisung was, to put it mildly, absolutely adorable. Hot, yes—far too hot for you to properly function around, if you were totally honest—but also sweet and lovely.  He was bright as the sun, seeming to practically radiate joyful light. And if last night was anything to go by, Jisung was quickly going to become a fixture in your life.

All that week, you couldn’t wait to see Jisung again and in a proper, arranged setting rather than as he was climbing through your window. You’d texted, flirting and just telling each other about yourselves. You learned that he loved being outside, just sitting in the sun or doing things with Chan and Changbin. He learned from you that you wanted to travel and study languages that were in danger of dying out. You bonded over a shared love of curling up with a good book or music or show, some tea, and having the world leave you alone. So, the idea of just watching a movie with him, spending time together in a simple but specific environment, sounded perfect to you.

Although, you did hook up twice more when neither of you could stand not getting your hands on each other again. Jisung was a kind and thorough lover, his personality vibrant and unaffected, and you enjoyed coming together simply for the sake of feeling amazing; you’d even taken to thinking of him as sunshine. You quickly found that you were sleeping better, and thought it might be nice if this sort of thing continued.

On Saturday evening, you found yourself impatiently waiting for 7:30 pm instead of doing small chores and reading some of the chapters you’d been assigned for your Poetry of Emancipation and Civil Rights course. It was maddening, especially when you heard Jisung get home and all you could think about was his smile. At 7:29 pm, you made your way into your bathroom and opened the little door in the wall. Jisung’s recent passage through the space within had cleared any cobwebs, but still there wasn’t much light. Whoever had split the old house into apartments had added this through-space for, presumably, plumbers to access the fixtures more easily, or maybe it was simply an anomaly in the construction. Either way, you now had a fascinating, new way to visit your neigh- your boyf- to visit Jisung.

Damn it, I can’t believe I’m doing this, you laughed at yourself and knelt to make your way into Jisung’s apartment. Before you could start, though, the door at the other end of the crawlspace opened and Jisung appeared.

“Hold on!” he said, and opened the door wider so that as much light as possible would shine through. Gratefully, you quickly made your way toward him—it really wasn’t a long space, only five steps crawling, but it was such an odd thing to do that you couldn’t help feel that it was much longer. When your head was out of the little passageway, you looked up to see a very strange look on Jisung’s face. It was the kind of expression one makes when something filthy is rocketing through one’s mind and it’s impolite to share those thoughts. Belatedly, you realized the position you were in and ducked your head.

When you’d fully emerged from the crawlspace, Jisung stood back and you clambered to your feet, brushing off your knees.

“Hey, babe,” Jisung said, winking.

“Hey!” You stood on tiptoe to brush your lips against his. “So, this is your bathroom.” Looking around, you noticed just how clean the room was—it wasn’t at all strange to appear there, with no odd smells, garish decor or anything out of place.

“Yep, this is my bathroom. Come see everything else—it’s much more interesting!” Jisung said, and hesitantly took your hand to lead you out into the rest of his apartment. Unsurprisingly, it had the same layout as yours, only mirrored.

When you got to the living room, you stared. Jisung had an electric keyboard, a guitar, a small desk, and a computer set up in one corner, clearly his space for practicing and composing. He’d gone for comfort more than anything else, with a sofa that had clearly been well-loved and a few beanbag-like nests. The light curtains would clearly let in plenty of sunlight during the day, and you noticed, with interest, the pile of blankets on one end of the sofa. The coffee table had gaming consoles and books scattered across its top, and a tall bookcase full of novels and music books, as well as sheet music, stood against the wall by the instruments.

The space was so different from your own, but it was the homiest living room you’d ever been in. You resisted the urge to flop down onto the sofa until you remembered that Jisung had been coming through your window . . . so you casually taking over his sofa would be a non-issue. He grinned when you sighed contentedly at the plushness of the cushions.

“You like it?” Jisung asked.

“Ji, I love it! The whole room’s so cozy and warm,” you said appreciatively, taking in every detail. Jisung just let you enjoy the room’s atmosphere, since he’d worked quite hard to make it so inviting and wanted you to appreciate it.

“Want some tea? I have, um, a lot,” Jisung grinned, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

You nearly leapt off the couch and followed Jisung into the other room. “Oh my god, yes please!”

Jisung’s kitchen looked almost exactly the same as yours, except he didn’t have galaxy-themed tea towels. And, it was obvious to you that Jisung had his friends over more often than not, since two stools were stacked in the corner.

“Um,” Jisung prompted, “what kind would you like?” He pointed to a shelf with what had to be twenty boxes of different kinds of tea on it—to you, it looked like heaven. Seeing your awestruck look, Jisung added, “Take your time. I’ll just put the kettle on.”

After putting the water on to boil, Jisung came to stand behind you and, taking a deep breath as if to plunge into ice water, rested his chin on your shoulder. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his as if you’d been doing this together for years, rather than days. It was so easy to be with Jisung—everything just felt right. Thinking it was now or never, Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and you leaned into him, still deciding what kind of tea you’d like.

“Guess what . . .” Jisung said.

“Hmmm?” you said distractedly.

“You’re beautiful,” Jisung murmured, breathing shallowly because he still couldn’t believe you were just casually in his arms. How had he gotten this lucky?

“And you’re handsome,” you replied.

Jisung was most certainly smiling as he said, “Want to split a pot of jasmine?” You nodded and jumped as the kettle’s shrilling pierced your ears—you hadn’t realized you were standing there with Jisung, just looking at tea, for that long. Jisung kissed your cheek, making you squeal internally, and went to make the tea.

Five minutes later, the two of you were back in the living room and Jisung was setting up the movie. You sat with your feet up under you, holding your tea to your chest. The warmth felt lovely. Once Jisung had gotten his DVD player set up and the beginning credits of the movie had started, he came to sit next to you. As he leaned back with his tea in one hand, he yawned and theatrically put his other arm around your shoulders.

You giggled. “Jisung, you don’t need to feel nervous about us cuddling or anything,” you reassured him. “It’s not like I haven’t touched you. We’ve had sex, for god’s sake. Multiple times.”

“I just- I wanted to go slowly since simple, casual intimacy is different. Or, at least that’s how I think of it. Just because we had sex doesn’t mean we’re going to be absolutely compatible right off the bat.” Jisung’s touch on your shoulder was light, as if he didn’t want to startle you.

“Ji,” you said, snuggling into his side, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. I feel more comfortable around you than some of the people I’ve known for three years.”

Jisung made a noise of disbelief. “What? Really?”

“Yeah,” you hummed, and threw a leg over Jisung’s thigh. His breath hitched a little before he pulled you closer to himself, the two of you settling into a comfortable configuration of limbs. The movie was one you’d only heard of in passing, and hadn’t expected to like—but Jisung’s explanation of why he liked it made you actually enjoy it.

Two-thirds of the way through the film, Jisung’s hand gently caressing your shoulder became too much of a distraction and all you wanted to do was kiss him again. You’d long ago finished your tea, and now contented yourself with gazing at him, taking in the smooth line of his jaw, the curve of his ear, the depression where his collarbone met the slope of his shoulder.

“I can feel you staring, Y/N,” Jisung said after a while, jolting you out of your daze. He paused the movie.

“Well, you’re kinda hot,” you countered.

“Yeah? How hot?” Jisung smirked, angling himself toward you.

“Very, very hot,” you whispered, craning your neck for a kiss. Jisung obliged, smiling.

Unlike your kisses the night before, this was slow and calm, like honey settling on ripe peaches. You slid forward to sit more squarely in Jisung’s lap as he tangled his fingers in your hair, the slight pull on your head feeling delicious. Each brush of his lips was soft and warm, and both of you took your time as you fell into the kisses, learning how gentle yet passionate the other could be. You moved your hands along his shoulders and chest, then up to cup his face, holding him like a priceless piece of art. Jisung hummed against your mouth, and drew you closer. Long minutes passed as you kissed, enjoying the simplicity of the connection, until you felt what seemed like a small fire ignite inside you.

Sensing your mood, as it reflected his own, Jisung said, “We’re not doing this on the couch again, Y/N. I have a bed, you know.”

You laughed—you couldn’t help yourself. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t expected things to go this way—after all, you’d worn some especially pretty lingerie—but the way Jisung had phrased it . . . he was almost pouting.

You pecked Jisung’s nose and said, “Lead on.”

Jisung didn’t bother asking you to get up or shift position—he just hooked an arm behind your knees and held the other at your back, and stood up. It was rather impressive, to say the least. He carried you to the bedroom, both of you giggling at the fact that you were really doing this, until you got to his room. Just like the rest of his apartment, it was cozy; there was no other word for it, especially with the soft faerie lights strung above the bed. You idly wondered if he always had them up or had just put them up in hopes the two of you would make it into his bedroom.

He sat down on the bed with you still in his arms, and resumed kissing you as if he hadn’t just carried you to an entirely different room. After a moment, you swiveled on Jisung’s lap so you were straddling his hips and wrapped your legs around him—his hands immediately went under your shirt, as if he’d been waiting to do just that.

“You really want to feel me up, don’t you,” you said, brows arched but smiling.

“Can you blame me?” Jisung’s voice was husky with desire. You just shook your head and pulled your shirt off, which made Jisung’s eyes widen. The lingerie was clearly doing its job. “Now who’s the hot one?” he asked, and ran his hands up and down your back as he continued kissing along your jaw and cheeks. His fingers finally stopped at the clasp of your bra and you breathed a “Yes.”

After a moment, Jisung leaned his head against your shoulder. “Y/N, um, it’s been a bit since I last did this…” His voice was so small and embarrassed.

“Aw babe, I’ve got it,” you said, stroking his hair. Jisung leaned back on his hands, watching you as you reached around yourself to unhook the clasp. You shrugged out of your bra and let it fall to the floor.

“You are so gorgeous, Y/N, you really are,” Jisung said, his voice low in awe.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks—you’d rarely, if ever, been admired like this, just bare before someone. “I- Um, I’m not sure what to say? Thanks?”

Jisung chuckled, saying, “You deserve every compliment I can give you,” and brought his hands back to your body. You were still as he trailed his fingertips up your stomach to cup the soft curves of your breasts, then brushed his thumbs over their peaks. You let out a shaky breath as Jisung began to kiss down your throat, over your sternum, and over each of the love bites he’d given you earlier in the week. He made certain to carefully add two more. You tangled your hands in his hair and sighed softly as he sucked, nibbled, and massaged, causing a tingling sensation to go straight to your core.

Jisung lifted his head briefly and, trailing a finger along his jaw, you said, “Your turn.” His shirt was off in one fluid movement and, again, you couldn’t believe you were actually with someone that beautiful.

“And you were saying I’m gorgeous? Jisung, oh babe, you should see yourself through my eyes.”

Jisung brushed his hair out of his face, looking intently up at you. “I can see myself in your eyes,” he said. “That’s enough for me.”

You smiled as you gently pushed Jisung back onto the bed, but before you could lay yourself down on top of him, he said, “Let me take off my jeans off first—it’ll be easier, you know?”

You chuckled and decided to do the same—he was right, after all. You sat on the bed next to Jisung as he did some fascinating acrobatics to divest himself of his pants and pull the sheets down at the same time. Laying there in just his underwear, Jisung’s desire was painfully evident and you unknowingly licked your lips; however, this did not go unnoticed by Jisung, who grinned. He scooted back onto the bed so his legs weren't hanging off the side and lay back on his pillows, holding his arms out to you.

“Shall we?” he said with an exaggeratedly coy expression.

You crawled on top of him, feeling him hard beneath you, and leaned down to kiss him deeply, your breasts just grazing his chest. Your own desire roared through you like floodwaters surging along a river toward a dam, and you ground your core against him, seeking the one thing that would break that dam apart. Jisung moaned into your mouth, holding your hips so firmly his hands dug into your muscles. And in moments, you were both breathing hard.

Flashing a grin at Jisung as you broke from your kiss, you slid down his chest. You began at his throat, too, leaving kisses and hickeys all over him, eliciting soft moans from his lips. When you got to the waistband of his underpants, you looked up the hard planes of his stomach and chest to his face. “May I?”

“God, please, Y/N,” Jisung all but begged.

You deftly pulled his last remaining clothes down and off, admiring what was now revealed before you. Tracing the length and girth with your fingers, you placed a kiss right on the tip and Jisung hissed softly at the contact. You efficiently pumped your hand back and forth, feeling as if you were an earth goddess urging a seedling to grow, until he stood tall and proud as an oak. Slowly, you brought your lips to him, swirling your tongue a little, then bobbed your head up and down, occasionally letting your teeth graze his sensitive skin. A slightly salty taste that was still distinctly his own began to fill your mouth, and he twitched a little. And oh, Jisung’s moans—they were loud and needy, just a little breathy, and like music to your ears. He encouraged you, praising and saying how good it felt; at his words, you took a moment to simply run your hand over him, kissing the same path your hand took. Then, returning your mouth to its task, you quickened your pace and your throat soon felt raw. After a moment, you simply sucked the tip, flicking your tongue out, until Jisung’s gasps and cries were louder than ever.

“I’m so close, Y/N . . . Just like th- Aaaah! Fuck!” Jisung’s hips bucked, surprising you, but you continued, drawing as much pleasure from him as you could as you swallowed and swallowed. The sound of him coming undone made the ache between your legs intensify, and as Jisung came down from his high, panting, you crawled back up the bed next to him.

Jisung pulled you to him, and you knew he could taste himself on your mouth as you kissed again. His hands were quickly back on your hips, fiddling with the band of your panties. “I want to taste you,” he said between kisses.

“Taste all you want,” you purred as his hand strayed lower.

He gave you a silly grin and, inexplicably, said, “Thank you.” You giggled.

Jisung wasted no time in flinging your panties nearly to the other side of the room, then tracing whirls over your stomach, going lower and lower. When you thought you might as well just take matters into your own hands, literally, Jisung slid his hand between your legs and you moaned.

“Mmmm, perfect,” Jisung smiled as he kissed just below your ear.

He seemed to want to feel each and every part of you, slowly exploring with first one finger, and then a second. In moments, you were wriggling and arching yourself toward him as his fingers danced. When he found that little bundle of nerves, rubbing it over and over, your hips bucked involuntarily. Fast, then slow, he coaxed you to the edge. Then, nothing.

“Oh no you don’t, Han Jisung,” you said, panting. “You are not stopping now.”

“Who said I was stopping?” Jisung said as he positioned himself between your legs, holding your thighs apart. You could still feel the blood pulsing through your veins and the ache inside was nearly maddening. He kissed all the way up your inner thigh, teasing you, then did the same along the other leg. You thrust your hips into the air, seeking some sort of friction.

Jisung smiled indulgently, then brought his mouth to you. His lips and tongue on your most sensitive parts felt so good you could barely think. Your moans were even louder than his had been, and you were glad that the neighbors typically went out on weekend nights. Jisung sucked that bundle of nerves like it was a hard candy and lapped at you like a kitten, clearly having the time of his life, before adding his fingers again. The combination had you begging for release, and all you could think was that this must be what it was like to be carried along a storm-swollen river to the edge of a waterfall.

“Oh, hhhhh, oh shit. Ji- Jisung, oh my god, hhhhh, oh god, fuck. Right there, oh f- Aaaah!”

Jisung crooked his fingers as he sucked, sending you hurtling out over that waterfall. Gasping and moaning, you shuddered, the coil of tension below your navel releasing. When he finally sat up, Jisung slowly licked each his fingers.

As you caught your breath, relishing the feeling of release, Jisung quickly went to his bedside table and you turned your head to see him sliding a condom on. He glanced at you, realizing he’d just assumed that you were okay with continuing.

“Jisung, just get back on the bed,” you said, forestalling his question, and Jisung did so, kneeling between your legs with an expectant look on his face.

“Well?” you said, looking up at him.

“I was just admiring you,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss you sweetly. Then, he straddled your hips and prepared himself before saying, “Ready?”

“Definitely,” you replied, an almost gleeful look in your eye.

You joined together little by little, Jisung letting you adjust, until he could go no further. You moaned at the feeling of such intimacy, the bright clarity of it—you felt like you were being filled with sunshine. “Ji, move,” you gasped, and he did.

Holding himself above you as you hooked your ankles behind his legs, Jisung began slowly, making you feel every bit of him. Then, the two of you moved as one, faster and harder, his hips finally snapping with as much power as he could muster.

Jisung buried his face in your neck as you urged him on. “Come on, Ji, right there. Oh, yes! Ah, that’s it. That feels so good, just like that.” You ran your hands all over his back, biting down on his shoulder as he finally hit the one spot inside that would surely bring your pleasure crashing down upon you again. Your nerves still singing from just moments before, you suddenly felt that coil inside you release as you clenched and unclenched, screaming Jisung’s name over and over.

“I still- I need—” Jisung gasped against your neck.

“Keep going,” you crooned, and held him to you as he chased his high, seeming to plunge deeper with each movement. A few moments later, Jisung’s hips shook and you felt him pulse as he dashed himself against the rocks at the foot of that waterfall of bliss. He shuddered, too, and lay against you, panting. You kissed his neck, his cheek, and his mouth as you both relaxed into each other’s arms.

After taking care of the condom, Jisung joined you back on the bed and you curled against him, still flushed with exertion. “That was—”

“Amazing,” you finished, turning to kiss him again. Jisung’s arm went around your shoulders and his other hand held your hip. You undulated your body against him gently, more for the slow, mellow comfort from the feel of his skin against yours than anything else.

“We should take a shower,” he said after a few more sweet kisses.

“Mmmm, that sounds perfect,” you agreed. “Can we just lay here for a moment, though?”

After several minutes, you suspected Jisung might fall asleep, so you gently kissed along his chest and said, “What about that shower?”

He chuckled and sat up with a groan. “Yeah, I know. I’ll go start the water.”

Once you’d showered together and lingered under the hot water, you lay side-by-side on Jisung’s bed, just tracing patterns into each other’s skin and occasionally kissing.

“I could get used to this, you know,” he said after you’d lain there for several minutes.

“Yeah? You mean us . . . just casually having sex? Or do you mean, like, dating?” you said, honestly not minding either way.

“I- Both, I guess?” Jisung paused. “But also just spending time with you, and being able to cuddle or do whatever when we need it. Casual comfort and companionship, and yeah, sex—keeping things open, you know?”

You looked up at him, thinking you understood now. “Do you mean having an open relationship?”

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, like we’re pretty much together but see other people but things are just kind of casual!”

You laughed lightly, glad that you were on the same page. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, actually,” you said. “I’m not really fussed about keeping things only between us—you know I’m polyamorous. I just feel like I’ve got a lot of love to give and that, while I am over the moon with happiness with you—”

“You are?” Jisung interrupted, turning his big doe eyes on you.

“Yes, Ji, of course,” you said, and continued. “But yeah, I just— I feel like I want to give as many people the affection and support they need, and to get all different kinds from them, as well as you. Just keeping things casual sounds perfect to me.”

Jisung rolled over onto his back, leaving you to rest your chin on his chest. He mindlessly stroked your hair. “Mmmm,” he sighed contentedly, “you know, I don’t mind if you don’t tell me who else you’re seeing, by the way. Not unless it gets serious and you’d like to actually date them, too. Then, it would be nice to know and meet them.”

“Oh my god, of course!” you exclaimed, your head jerking up sharply. “I wouldn’t hide something like that! I mean, if you’d like to share who we see super casually, I’m fine with that, too.”

“I trust you,” was all Jisung said.

“And I trust you,” you replied, kissing his chest above his heart. Suddenly, you were nearly practically overwhelmed by the tenderness you felt for Jisung, and shimmied your way onto his chest more solidly.

“Come here, angel,” he murmured, and pulled you fully on top of his body. Your bodies touching so completely made you feel like you were laying on a cloud. Smiling softly to yourself, you tucked your head under Jisung’s chin, listening to his heartbeat as his arms went around you. You thought the best sleep you’d had was the other nights that week, but they could never compare to falling asleep with Jisung.

↠↞

Strolling toward you down the long walkway that wound through campus, looking like a cat who’d just been in the cream, came a young man with an all-too-familiar face: Bang Chan. He looked like the cold, December air didn’t bother him at all. You sighed, hoping he wouldn’t notice you, and looked down at what were, in the summer, lovely gardens lining the path. It really was cold as hell and all you wanted to do was get home before dark when it would even colder.

“Y/N?”

Oh, no.

“Hey, Y/N! Yeah, I thought it was you!” he called from, in your opinion, too far away. The people around you turned to look and you mentally cringed—you didn’t like drawing attention from large crowds.

“Hi, Chan,” you said, trying to plaster a smile onto your face.

“How’s the most beautiful woman on campus?” Chan said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Doing well? Staying warm?”

“I’m fine, Chan. And you?” You knew how you were talking was stilted and the words almost meaningless.

“A little busy, but great!” Chan responded blithely, falling into step with you. “How’s Jisung holding up? Is he still cooped up in his apartment? I think he said he was composing?”

“Oh, u-huh,” you said a little guiltily. You didn’t want to tell him that Jisung had, in fact, been in your apartment and in varying stages of undress, not composing at all hours. “I haven’t seen him much, actually, so I guess he has been composing. I think I heard him messing around on the guitar the other day.”

“Sometimes he gets like this,” Chan lamented, clearly playing for sympathy from you—sympathy he wouldn’t be getting because you, honestly, didn’t care much. Your time with Jisung was too good not to covet.

“I guess once he’s done whatever he’s working on you’ll see him more?” You wanted this conversation to be over—you were cold, there was a breeze, and it was Chan, of all people.

“I might just go over there and bug him, honestly.” Chan was thoughtful, and you had to stop yourself from vehemently dissuading him from stepping foot anywhere near your apartment. You’d have to mention to Jisung that Chan was probably stopping over and would expect to see some sort of headway on a composition, if that, indeed, was the excuse he’d been telling his friends to explain his occasional absences from their lives recently.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’d be happy to see you, since you’re so close,” you reassured him, smiling uncomfortably. Chan still took no notice, happily looking around at all the other students passing by as you walked.

“He’s such an introvert, I’ve no idea if he’ll want to see me,” Chan laughed and stopped to let a group of freshman girls by, but didn’t resume walking once they’d passed. “But maybe I can come see you instead?” he said with a wink, and hope in his voice.

You began to stammer out a response, not even caring what you said as long as it amounted to “Hell no.” You pulled out your phone to, supposedly, check a message.

“Oh, sorry Chan. I have to go,” you lied. “A friend just texted saying she needs my help with something. I guess I’ll see you around.”

And with that, you made a speedy exit, Chan staring after you a little sadly. Why did his nerves have to get the best of him like that? He ended up coming off as mildly creepy instead of his normal, kind self. He’d have to work on that, since you clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Chan sighed, rubbing his brow, then headed toward the Performing Arts building and the privacy of the studio he shared with Jisung and Changbin. Maybe he’d be able to put what he felt into a song or something.

That night before bed, you messaged Jisung to tell him that Chan would probably be over that week.

y/n: ji, did you tell chan you were composing this week and that’s why you haven’t been with him and changbin? sunshine: ….maybe….why? y/n: well, chan found me today and asked me how your composition(s?) were going since i’m your neighbor. and i had to do some pretty fast talking there, han jisung >:| sunshine: shit…sorry y/n!! :(( sunshine: welp;;; i guess i’ll have to get going on that, then y/n: yaaaay good idea! also, why does chan insist on flirting so outrageously with me every single god damn time i see him? sunshine: oh. he’s been like that for awhile;; it’s a coping mechanism for when he’s nervous and he’s not always trying to actually flirt. although, with you he might be?? sunshine: please don’t hold it against him. he’s a good guy and i’d hate for you to dislike him y/n: oooooh okay okay that makes so much more sense now. i was getting kind of uncomfortable there for a minute. thank you for explaining that, babe. i understand him a lot better now and i promise i’ll try to get to actually know him!! sunshine: you’re not required to be friends with my friends, but thanks y/n: i know, but i still want to make the effort!! sunshine: you’re the best :D y/n: oh! um do you maybe need me to come over to be your ~muse~? sunshine: you already have been <3 y/n: if you don’t stop being adorable, i’m gonna come over there and kiss you sunshine: yeah? you’re gonna do that? hmmm? y/n: don’t test me…. i WILL come over and kiss you sweetly and tuck you into bed sunshine: i read that as “fuck you into bed.” OOOPS y/n: alkfhgakldjfgh y/n: just go compose, ji!!! i’ll come over tomorrow, if chan’s not there sunshine: your wish is my command, angel~ sunshine: make sure to get some sleep y/n: don’t stay up too late tho babe;;;; sunshine: i won’t, don’t worry y/n: okay hhhh goodnight, ji *kiss* sunshine: sweet dreams, angel *kiss*

As you fell asleep, you thought you could hear the faint strains of the guitar and Jisung’s voice floating over from the other apartment. Idly, you wondered if he was recording any of his ideas.

↠↞

On Wednesday afternoon, you got a text from Jisung inviting you to an ugly sweater party that would be hosted by one of his casual friends that weekend. And while you weren’t sure if any of your sweaters counted as ugly, you figured you should still have a fun night out. And because where Jisung was, Chan and Changbin wouldn’t be far behind, you knew they’d be there, too. You suggested that the two of you go together, especially since the house was only a couple blocks away from where you lived. So, at 8:17 pm on Friday, you bundled yourself into your coat and headed out the door.

“Y/N!”

You turned around to see Jisung striding toward you across the snowy lawn.

“Hi,” he said, drawing out the syllable as he gave you an enthusiastic hug and kissed your cheek.

“Jisung,” you said, stepping back, “where exactly is your coat? You do know it’s the middle of December, right?”

“I left it inside.” He grinned when you glared. “Eh, one of us has to be a little bit dumb sometimes.”

This earned him a gentle nudge in the shin from your foot, but you were both smiling as you set off toward the party.

As you approached the house, Jisung kissed your hand. “I, um, haven't told Chan and Changbin that we’ve been seeing each other.” At your surprised look, he shrugged. “I’ll see you later tonight, angel,” he said, then darted up the stairs with a wink thrown over his shoulder. You shook your head—sometimes, Jisung was a little odd.

When you stepped through the front door, it was obvious that the party had already been going for at least an hour. People crowded the living room, the kitchen, the hallway, and some were even on the stairs. Fairly mellow music played in the background, and when you looked toward one end of the living in which a table was set up between two speakers, you saw none other than Chan. You couldn’t say you were surprised.

Squirming between the people lounging against the kitchen’s doorframe, you finally made it in and went to where drinks had been laid out on the counter. You grabbed a fresh cup for yourself, pouring some hard cider out of a fresh can, and then, rejoined the main part of the party. Not exactly wanting to talk to a lot of people you didn’t know, you found a window with a deep enough sill that you could sit in it. For almost a half hour, you watched the partygoers and slowly sipped on your cider.

Occasionally, you’d look over at Chan behind his computer, portable mixing board, and more wires and cables than you knew could exist. Now that you knew he wasn’t actively trying to be unnecessarily flirtatious, you could see yourself getting to know him. After all, he was Jisung’s friend and well known around campus—people were too focused on holding others to high moral standards, despite lowering their own, not to watch someone like Chan like hawks. You would’ve heard if he wasn’t a great person, and you knew Jisung wouldn’t be friends with a jerk.

In the low lighting of the living room, the lines of Chan’s cheekbones stood out as he bowed his head in concentration to find just the right level of bass to thrum through your bones beneath the soft strains of melody. You found yourself completely enthralled; that is, until Jisung eclipsed your view as he flitted from group to group like a hummingbird. And just when you thought you should probably socialize, two women who wore matching, utterly horrible sweaters chose to stand nearby. Since their sweaters were so atrocious, you thought their conversation might be interesting.

“3racha?” one of them asked in response to a question you hadn’t heard.

“Yeah, I really thought they’d be here, but I haven’t seen them,” the second woman whined.

“Maybe they’re busy?” the first one suggested.

“Or, ladies,” a pleasantly husky voice said, coming up behind them, “you could open your eyes and realize that Chan’s behind the table tonight. You’re listening to one of our new songs.” The two 3racha fans gaped at him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to talk to the person in the window here.” He slid past them. “Thanks.”

You looked up from your drink into the handsome face of Changbin, who was wearing a black sweater with…

“Pink, sparkly cats? You?” you said, not believing your eyes.

“Hey, I like cats,” Changbin protested. “And who cares if they’re pink and sparkly? They have cute little noses—see?” He moved closer to you, pointing to the cats.

“Yes, very cute little noses,” you laughed and took a sip of your cider. “So, what’s up, Changbin?”

“Eh, not much. I finished my exams early—thank god. You?”

“I’ve been really good, actually,” you said brightly. “You’re lucky—I still have all of mine next week.”

“Good luck! I’m sure you’ll do great,” Changbin beamed at you. “Hey, it’s pretty stuffy in here—want to go out on the porch for some fresh air?”

You nodded and stood to follow him.

A couple heads turned, probably those people who recognized Changbin and thought of him as a local celebrity or something, as you slipped by along the wall leading to the back door. Changbin held the door open for you and you inhaled the cold night air, welcome after the heat inside from so many bodies pressed together.

Changbin sighed gratefully next to you, sitting down on the top step and patting the spot next to him. “Join me?”

You sat, surprised that you could feel the warmth radiating from Changbin even sitting a foot away. Together, you stared out over the lawn where the footprints of those who lived in the house crossed each other to form unintentionally intricate patterns.

“Y/N?” Changbin said hesitantly after a few minutes. “Would you be interested in listening to the demo of a song I’ve been working on?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I know you’re not a music major,” he continued, “but that’s exactly why I’m asking this. I could use some fresh ears on it.”

You were flattered that Changbin had asked you, but . . . “Why me?” you asked. “I’m sure there are plenty of other people you know far better than me. Not to sound rude, but we’ve only met maybe three times.”

“Like I said, that’s exactly it,” Changbin insisted, taking out his phone. “You don’t know my—3racha’s—music. So, you’re the perfect person to give an unbiased and new opinion!”

“Well, when you put it like that . . .” you mused, and scooted just a little closer to Changbin. You could have sworn he blushed.

After a moment of fiddling with his phone, he said, “Here. Sorry I don’t have headphones or a speaker or something with me.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure I’ll be able to hear just fine.” You leaned forward as Changbin, grimacing at the first bars of the demo, held up his phone between you; then, you just concentrated on the music.

Meanwhile, Changbin felt like he was about to run and hide. You were mere inches from him, hair swinging down into your face as you listened intently. It was as if time had stopped completely, and you and he were the only people on Earth. He desperately tried not to stare as your mouth, lips parted slightly, quirked up in a smile at the lyrics. And if he noticed how your sweater hugged your body in just the right places, and how he’d like to be hugging those places, too, he promptly shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. As you seemed more and more entranced by the music, his music, Changbin had the wild urge to lean forward and ki—

“Changbin, this is incredible!” you said as the song ended, your eyes gleaming in the light of the porch light as you turned to him. Suddenly, you realized just how close you were to Changbin—it would be so easy to just lean your head on his shoulder. You mentally shook yourself. “I had no idea you guys were producing music like this. And this is just a demo?”

Still reeling from being utterly stunned by your beauty, Changbin started. “I— Yeah, it’s just the demo. That last song that was playing inside was actually one of ours. Chan just slips them into whatever mix he’s DJ-ing at events.”

You beamed, impressed and excited. “So, I honestly can’t think of anything I’d want to change about that song, other than . . . maybe even out the lead up to the chorus? Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Changbin reassured you, and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Hey, how about you come by the studio one day? I’d be able to make the edits with you there, and I think I might have another song you could help with.” At your surprised look, Changbin added, “But only if you want to. I don’t mean to pressure you, sorry.”

“I’d love to,” you said simply, and meant it. You looked down at your lap. “I don’t know much about composition, but I think it would fun to learn. Plus, if Jisung likes you and Chan, then you must be cool. And talented!”

Changbin gave you a searching look and you said quickly, “I mean, we’re neighbors and all, so we talk or see each other randomly and he always mentions you!”

“Ah, okay. Well, I’d like to live up to your expectations,” Changbin said self-consciously. He stood abruptly and you did as well, fiddling with your cider cup.

“Changbin?” you said before he could take another step toward the door, and he froze like you'd captured him in one of the ice sickles that hung from the roof. “How- how should I get in touch with you?” And just as you said it, you remembered the little slip of paper that was left on your coffee table that first time you’d met 3racha. Oh.

“I thought I gave you my number already,” Changbin chuckled, looking like one of the cats on his sweater that had just gotten into the cream.

You took a breath. “Right. Yeah, I remember now.”

“Just text me when you’re free and we can figure out when you want to come by to listen to more music.” Changbin stuffed his hands into his pockets, giving you a small smile.

“Oh, okay,” you agreed. “I guess I’ll text you tomorrow!”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Changbin said lightly, and winked before turning to open the door. “Come on, you look half frozen,” he said, his voice soft with not a trace of mockery in it.

You were cold and as you walked through the door back into the warmth, you tried to ignore the feeling of being pulled toward Changbin like you were two halves of a magnet. It was a new feeling, being drawn to someone so forcefully, and you were more than intrigued.

↠↞

When you got home from the party, you gratefully sagged onto your couch, glad to be away from all those people. After just sitting for long minutes, you got up and changed into your wonderfully soft and plush robe—it was one of the things you’d bought for yourself just because you could, just so you could have something nice. Then, you made tea and curled on the couch again; you’d only had the one drink that didn’t even have much alcohol in it, but you were still tired from being around that many people. So, you just sat and enjoyed your tea, letting your thoughts wonder.

“Y/N?” Jisung’s voice came down the hall into your living room, since he’d slipped through via the bathroom. He saw you curled on the couch in your robe with your mug of tea, and paused before entering the room. The simple domesticity of the tableau was so sweet that it stirred his desire to, someday, have a lovely home with the one he loved where things would be happy and calm. And right then and there, Jisung knew that he was definitely developing feelings for you. “Hey, you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before sitting next to you.

“Hey,” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“You didn’t stay too long—did you at least have an okay time tonight?” Jisung asked.

“Yeah, it’s always fun to see people in horrible sweaters,” you chucked. You proffered your tea to him. “Want some?”

Jisung took the mug and sipped delicately from it, sighing as the tea warmed his insides. “So, what do you want to do? Watch a movie like we said?”

“Mmmm,” you thought for a moment, cupping the back of Jisung’s neck and running your fingers through his hair. “How about we watch a couple episodes of that show I was telling you about, then take a bath together. I could really use the relaxing heat from the water.”

“Oh, that sounds perfect, angel,” Jisung sighed. “Can I grab your computer so we can watch, then?” He stood and looked around for the device. “Where’d you hide it this time?”

“Sorry,” you said, smiling ruefully. “It’s on the floor in my bedroom.”

Jisung retrieved your computer and set it on the coffee table in front of you, gently massaging your back as he waited for you to sign in and pull up the video streaming site. The only light in the room came from a small lamp you had in the corner, which cast a warm glow over everything. Jisung leaned into the nook where the couch’s back and arm met and you snuggled in beside and on him as he pulled you against his chest. He was warm and soft, and you felt entirely at ease—more at home with him than you’d felt with anyone else. As the second episode began, Jisung began lazily tracing circles up and down your arm, occasionally passing over your cheeks. Once or twice, he ran a finger along your lips, making them tingle. It was more than a little distracting and it wasn’t long before you felt a faint tingle of desire. Jisung’s body, which had been so relaxed before, was now filled with a low-level energy that made him feel like his blood was vibrating.

You twisted round to look up at him, a questioning look in your eyes, and he leaned forward to pause the show before capturing your lips with his. You smiled against his mouth and Jisung hoisted you further up onto his lap so you were almost sitting sideways. His tongue darted out to swipe along the crease of your mouth, and you gladly let him in, your tongues sliding by each other as you pressed yourself closer to Jisung. His hand on your waist began to travel upward as he kissed down your neck and along your shoulder, and you sighed at the warmth of his skin.

“You’re not wearing anything under that robe, are you?” Jisung said, pulling back and giving you a mischievous look.

“Nope!” you chirped innocently, and kissed his nose. Jisung’s eyes darkened as his pupils blew wide with desire.

“Oh, angel,” Jisung growled faintly as he ran his hand down your stomach to between your legs. As you continued to kiss, he chuckled faintly and pulled aside the folds of your robe to slide his hand up your inner thigh. His slow teasing soon had you moaning and wriggling, and it was obvious that he simply wanted to enjoy touching you, making you squirm just that little bit. But, he never brought you close to release—that wasn’t the point.

When you’d had enough of his teasing, you murmured, “Ji, let’s take the bath.” You had to concentrate to keep speaking as he moved his fingers in a particularly satisfying way. “The water will feel amazing and we’ll be relaxed,” you said, adjusting your position on his lap. Jisung groaned, and let you rise before following you out of the room.

While the tub filled higher and higher, you let your robe drop to the floor, and your body reacted to the cold air coming through the ever-open window. Jisung, his clothes already thrown in a heap in the corner, stared at you like you were Aphrodite herself. Ignoring the various thoughts swirling around in his head, Jisung stepped into the tub and was surprised at how hot it was, but sank down into the water nonetheless. “Come on, angel,” he said, patting his lap and making small waves in the water. “I’ve got a comfy seat here just for you.” He winked.

Grinning, you stepped in after him and the water splashed a little as you sat down, making both of you giggle. You talked about your week and how classes were going, always skirting around the topic of exams. It wasn’t long before you’d completely exhausted all college-related conversation; it simply wasn’t romantic. You lay back against Jisung, who slid lower into the water and put his hands on your hips. Your hands went automatically over his, and the two of you simply reveled in the warmth of the water and the feeling of being skin-to-skin. 

Before long, the slight pressure against your low back became more insistent, until you turned to Jisung and said, “How about I keep you nice and warm, babe.”

“Sounds lovely.” Jisung murmured against your hair and carefully guided your hips down onto his waiting member. You groaned as he filled you up, the ache you hadn’t even known you’d felt all day suddenly satisfied.

“Oh god, yes,” you breathed and leaned your head back, exposing your neck for Jisung to kiss and nibble.

You gently wiggled your hips and settled, simply enjoying the sensation of being full. The hot water swirling around you felt like velvet caressing your skin. Turning slightly with your head still on his shoulder, you found Jisung’s mouth with yours and your kisses were as lazy and languid as the warm sunlight of a summer morning. You occasionally rocked your hips against Jisung’s gently, feeling him deep inside. And when you teased him like that, he would simply press himself further against you and you’d moan, kissing him harder.

Nothing was rushed or intense—just the feelings of warmth and being together, connected. You reveled in the pure sensations, relaxing into Jisung’s hold more every second. He had one hand on your hip, gently massaging the muscle there, and the other roving over your body, depending on his whims. Your fingers tangled in his hair, carding through it as you kissed. All of your attention was focused on Jisung—your point of connection with him, his hands on you, his soft mouth—and you filled his world, too, blotting out all else like a solar eclipse.

↠↞

“Bin, you said we’d meet Jisung here. Where is he? Isn’t he supposed to be at home?” Chan said, clearly having to concentrate on enunciating his words more carefully than usual. He and Changbin were standing on the front step of Jisung’s apartment, waiting impatiently for their best friend to open the door. It was cold.

“Dunno.” Changbin gestured expansively. “He said we should come over, right? There aren’t many places he’d go.” Then, Changbin blanched. “You don’t think he was kidnapped or something, do you?”

“Oh come on, you’re drunk,” Chan scoffed.

“You are, too!” Changbin retorted.

“Yeah, but at least I’m not hyplerbizing. . . No, hyperblazing. Shit.” Chan looked blankly down at the snow for a second, his friend being absolutely no help at all as he frantically texted Jisung. “Got it! Hyperbolizing. Yeah, at least I’m not hyperbolizing.”

“I’m not,” Changbin insisted. “I’m just being sensible. Jisung barely ever ducks out on stuff, so why now? He was at the party, for god’s sake. We saw him— What, two hours ago?”

Chan leaned on the doorframe and sighed. “Well, I guess there’s only one option, then.”

“Yeah?”

“We go through the window.” Changbin gave him a blank look. “You know,” Chan continued, “Y/N’s bathroom window! Jisung said he’s gone through there to get to his apartment, and maybe she’ll know where he is. They’ve gotta at least keep in touch if they’re neighbors.”

Changbin spluttered. He couldn’t believe Chan had just suggested that they, for lack of a better phrase, break into your apartment. But then again, maybe you did know where Jisung was—it was worth a try.

So, Chan and Changbin made their way around to the other side of the house, trying not to look suspicious, and found the window that was cracked slightly open. Soft light poured from it, lancing across the bare ground below. And, there was the conveniently placed log, now fallen on its side. It didn’t look like Jisung had come through this way for awhile.

“Chan, are you sure about this?” Changbin whispered.

“Well, you wanna go hang out with Jisung, yeah?”

“Fine, yes,” Changbin grumbled.

Chan hopped up onto the log and pulled himself up to peek in the window. He was completely still for a moment, then put his feet back down and, with an indiscernible look on his face, motioned to Changbin.

“What? Is it locked or something?” Changbin asked, confused. Chan just shook his head, not trusting himself to speak, and motioned for Changbin to take his spot on the log.

“Boost me up?” he said to Chan, who gave him a wild look, but held out his hands for Changbin to step on anyway.

When Changbin’s head rose above the window, he stared. You were laying there in the tub, naked and lithe as a cat. But you weren’t alone. Jisung, his best friend Han Jisung, was in the tub with you. And you were kissing, Jisung’s hands all over you. As he beheld your form, Changbin felt like he was about to burst apart into a thousand pieces. Unable to tear his eyes away, Changbin saw you undulate your hips against Jisung’s and heard you sigh wantonly. You were completely engrossed in each other, unaware of your silent audience.

You let out a loud moan and Changbin’s hands, cramped from the cold and clutching the windowsill, betrayed him so he nearly lost his grip. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the house’s siding. He tried to keep his breathing under control, but his mind was full of smooth skin, water, and the sound of your sighs. Fuck. We shouldn’t be here.

But just at that moment, Chan chose to actually boost him up toward the window and, because Changbin was shocked at seeing you naked in a bathtub with Jisung, he toppled forward.

↠↞

The feeling of almost unraveling but never quite tipping over the edge was absolutely delicious, and yet having nothing between you and Jisung was even better. Your eyes were closed, focusing on the sensations, rather than trying to see anything, and you gasped against every so often. Jisung gently bit down on your shoulder whenever you did.

You were resting your full weight back against Jisung’s chest, simply enjoying the feel of him touching you everywhere possible. Then, you felt Jisung twitch inside you as you ground against him, and he began to thrust up into you with more regularity. A particularly loud moan escaped your lips, the ache deep inside pulsing, just as you heard a scuffling sound from outside.

“Ji? What was that?” you asked, your eyes flying open.

“It’s probably just some raccoons,” Jisung said offhandedly.

“Hmmm,” was all you replied and closed your eyes again. You held onto his knees for support as Jisung’s pace increased, making little waves dance in the tub.

And then . . .

It seemed like all hell broke loose as a body crashed through the slightly open window. You shrieked in surprise and Jisung yelled, “What the fuck?” All sense of arousal gone, you froze before peeking above the rim of the bathtub.

You had a distinct sense of deja vu as, yet again, you saw a young man sprawled on your bathroom floor.

Shit.

Shit!!

Belatedly, you realized that you were, indeed, naked, and you were in the bath. With Jisung. And you were still sitting on his dick, which now seemed to have a mind and agenda of its own. Oh, and it was freezing now that the window was fully open, making you feel like someone had pulled the skin on your chest taut as a bowstring.

“Seo Changbin, what the actual fuck?!!” Jisung almost, almost, bellowed as he firmly held you in place on his lap, not wanting his friend to notice anymore than he already had.

“I—” Changbin stammered, but was cut off as Jisung yelled again, seeing another face at the window.

“Chan, too? What the hell?! I just— What the hell?” As much as he might have seemed angry, you could feel Jisung laughing silently as he took in the situation.

“Fuck,” was all Chan said as his gaze took you in, and you pulled your legs up in front of yourself in some, futile, attempt to hide your nakedness.

“Well?” Jisung demanded.

“We were looking for you, bro,” Changbin said from the floor. “We had plans!”

“And you said you climb through Y/N’s window all the time!” Chan added . . . helpfully.

“I told you I had something going on tonight.” Jisung sighed and grumbled, “But I guess you didn’t remember that.” Then, rolling his eyes Jisung said, “How much did you two drink, anyway?”

“Hey, don’t be like that, man,” Chan said, still peering through the window. “It wasn’t that much!”

“Bullshit,” you said, speaking for the first time.

“Okay, whatever. You’re right,” Changbin grumbled from the floor, looking a little ill.

“Both of you: Get. Out.” Jisung’s voice was firm, but he still couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice.

“Can’t we go through the little door?” Chan said hopefully.

“Y/N?” Changbin implored you, eyes wide.

“Fine. Just go through the damn door so you can get out of my fucking bathroom!” Your voice rose and you crossed your arms over your chest.

Once Chan had climbed through the window, catching a sleeve on the windowsill in the process, and Changbin had retrieved Jisung’s keys from his pants, the two of them squeezed through the passageway to Jisung’s apartment. You tried your best not to giggle at how much they looked like those same raccoons Jisung had mentioned earlier, practically falling over each other as they rushed to get out of the bathroom.

“I’ll be over at some point,” Jisung called after them. “Good riddance,” he said more quietly to you.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” you huffed out in a laugh.

“Yeah, I can’t either,” Jisung groaned. “But I’m not surprised. That’s those two in a nutshell, honestly.”

You leaned your head back against Jisung’s shoulder again and sighed. He was still inside you, and you were suddenly glad that you’d been facing forward when Chan and Changbin had appeared. Completely unable to resist Jisung’s soft skin, you nuzzled his jaw.

“Well, I guess that cat’s out of the bag,” you shrugged.

“They’ll never let me live it down,” Jisung replied, burying his face in your neck.

“Nope, they won’t!” you giggled and pecked Jisung’s cheek.

[lettersnorth]

It'd be nice to catch the breeze! It'd be fun! That's what Cravendy had thought on a whim. But now that she was up here, after crawling through several spaces far too cramped for any normal-sized person to fit through, she determined the effort to get here far outweighed any benefit. And eventually, she'd have to find a way down. Cravs puts that off for later and looks over the Lilly Hills.

After the meeting with Momori, Aislinn comes across a note left on the desk of her study. A request from Cravendy for Aislinn to engineer an undetectable tracking device. Questionable at best, downright shady at worst but also surprising, coming from Cravendy. She knows the clock is ticking on her own issues but before returning to her business in Ishgard, she goes in search of the oddly absent Seawolf to find out exactly why she would need such a device.

With a bit of searching Aislinn finally finds the woman out on the widow's walk on the very top of the Company House. What was it with the people in her life and high altitudes? She clambers out onto the high walk, with a puff of exertion after squeezing herself through the small attic crawlspace. "Nymeia's breath." she mutters under her breath as she appears and then, "Here you are." louder now, for the Seawolf to hear as she dusts herself off.

Cravendy waits in fearful anticipation as something is shoving its way through the crawlspace. When Lin finally emerges, Cravs doesn't know whether to laugh or cry from surprise. "What the 'ell?! Lin? What brings ye up 'ere?" "Ye look like yer 'alf dust bunny." Cravs, having been 'trapped' out here for quite some time, has had ample time to brush herself off.

Aislinn takes a moment to peer over the edge. The view up here was rather nice. She might even make use of this walk herself sometime when she needed some quiet. She made a mental note of it as she stepped back. "You." she replies, her voice as matter-of-fact as ever. "I came across the note you left on my --" she pauses, noting a bit of dusty cobweb still clinging to the edge of her spectacle frame. She sputters and swiftly brushes at it with a wave of her hand. Clearing her throat, she continues, "..my desk. What's this business about an 'undetectable tracking device'?"

Cravendy stifles a giggle as Lin struggles with the spiderwebs caught in her hair. "If ye've got 'alf a mind to come up 'ere again, we should bring in a team of professional cleaners. It was 'ard for me too, and 'arder still with bugs and splinters every ilm."

"But, ah. Mm." Cravs scratches the back of her head and turns away. This was something she had shared with Riylli and Rising - would Lin respond in the same way? Normally, Cravs would brush off the request, switch the topic. But with two out of two on her side, maybe...just maybe Lin would be receptive as well.

"To put it shortly, I need it to incriminate someone of bein' an arse."

"We should." Aislinn agrees, momentarily pulling the glasses from her face and inspecting them with a frown to be sure they were clean. "I'd wager no one's set foot in the attic in an age." Fitting the frames brusquely back on her face, she passes Cravendy a skeptical look. "Not saying there's not a time or place for that but that might be putting it a little too short for me. Is there a longer version?"

Cravendy grimaces, reacting as if Lin is suggesting she needs a tooth pulled. "Shit...the longer version? Uh, the full version? Ye really got time for that? Not that it's anythin' big." She wheezes. "I mean, relatively, it's small, in the grand scheme of Eorzea burnin'."

The more Cravendy hems and haws, the more Aislinn's concern grows. "I'm not asking for the -full- story if you've not the inclination. But you've got to admit that if you're asking me to hand you a device like that, I need to know at least a little bit as to why. Not only for the obvious reasons as to whether we're wandering into a gray area with a -tracker- but to inform the parameters of this project. What sort of range, for how long, and so on."  she explains.

"There's a loanshark that's botherin' someone I want to 'elp. I figure if I can bring 'em down, they won't be able to pester 'im anymore," Cravs eventually admits, arms crossed. "But on the surface, their record is clean. So I...I may 'ave broken a law or two in order to find some dirt."

"I need the tracker to prove the loanshark's up to no good. Evidence that'll be 'arder to trace back to my own lawbreakin'."

Aislinn expels a troubled breath. It wasn't the lawbreaking that bothered her. Far be it from her to lecture anyone about something like that. She stares out at the vista over Cravendy's shoulder with a considering tilt of her head. In the end, she couldn't hold it against Cravendy if she decided to hold information back. It wasn't like Aislinn herself was as forthright as she could be with her either. "A normal tracker would just tell you where a person's been. A trail on a map. Is that going to be enough?"

"As long as this tracker can't be sensed by Limsa's best, can lead me to wherever she's storin' 'er illegal goods, then it'll be more than enough." Cravs puts a finger over her lips. "....Oh. And if it can somehow be 'idden in a vat of toad ooze."

"I'm 'opin' to bait 'er with it, ask a favor from Dirtpatch, 'ave everythin' legally look....bad, tear down 'er reputation. Maybe even toss her into gaol." Cravs nods, satisfied. "A sound plan, eh?"

Aislinn shoots a glance over to Cravendy, a small measure of amusement sparking there despite her misgivings. "A vat of toad ooze." she echoes. She inhales and tries to think it through like it was a reasonable problem set and not at all the odd request it was. "Acidic? That depends. Corrosion could be a problem if you needed it to last longer than a few bells. And what makes you think she'd drag toad ooze to wherever you're hoping she goes?"

Cravendy frets by tugging on her braid. She didn't think about that, and after harvesting all that ooze, her hands did feel a bit itchy. "Uh, maybe? Is this somethin' ye can test? It's safe for me to dunk my 'and in for a while. It's sittin' in a barrel in my room if ye want to look at it."

"She's a spice trader, both the dust ye put on food and the, er, 'strong' stuff. I 'eard toad ooze is used by pixies for psychedelic effects, and it sure as 'ell ain't easy to come by. She won't resist tradin' for a vat for it, I think."

"Not just a loanshark, then." Aislinn notes. A bit of fire flickers through her eyes. The drug trading detail seems to have drawn the woman's ire. "I can test it." she affirms. "Once I know what I'm dealing with I can decide on a case of some sort. A shell that would protect the device. But that might limit my options, if it still needs to let an encrypted signal through. Maybe something with a delayed activation? She wouldn't detect it at first if she were looking. But then it'd wake itself up somewhere down the line not too long after she took the bait." Aislinn is clearly thinking out loud now, hooked by the challenge set before her.

"Then it'd be a matter of knowin' when to activate it. It could take a couple of suns for it to make it to 'er," Cravs ponders. "So when it activates, ye think she could sense it then? If that's the case, the moment it goes off, I better be ready to jump into action."

"'ow are ye gonna make a delayed shell like that? I've 'eard of slow actin' medicine, but a slow actin' tracker....and an undetectable one at that. Think that's in the realm of possibility?"

The planning and sketching going on in Aislinn's mind is halted by Cravendy's question like a pen scratching wildly off the boundaries of a page. "What do you mean, could she sense it? I thought she might, at best, scan the vat of toad ooze with her own equipment. How would anyone sense a ping of a device going online? Does she have something I don't know about?"

"That's the thing." Cravs snaps her fingers. "I 'ave no clue. If someone was storin' illegal goods, what sort of security measures would they take? I'm imaginin' an empty barn, maybe 'idden by some trees, but...eh. I dunno. What do ye reckown?"

"Depends on how sophisticated an operation you're dealing with." Aislinn answers with a half shrug. "Is this just a side job for her, something to make a little extra gil or is this her livelihood she has to protect? Is she an arrogant person who thinks she'll never get caught or is she paranoid? How long has she been at this?" Aislinn waves a hand through the air as if to say 'and so on and so forth'. "Let's plan as though it's the worst case scenario. She's wily, she's paranoid and she's been at this for years. If so, hiding something in the product might not be the best way to outsmart her." Lin drummed her fingers against her arm in thought. "Who's meeting her to make the trade?"

Cravendy considers this, is relieved to have asked Lin about such matters. "'ow do I put this...what I'm 'opin' to incriminate 'er of wasn't illegal until the Admiral got in charge of Limsa. So at the least, she's been hidin' her stuff for five years. But I would lean on longer, since hidin' from the law is one thing, hidin' from a rats nest of pirates is another."

"As for who's makin' the trade...a couple of old friends of mine. Nostalgically inclined friends."

"You're trying to catch a pirate." Aislinn said with a dawning realization. A conflicted look flitted across Aislinn's face for the briefest of moments. She had recently found reason to feel differently about certain pirates than most. But Cravendy was speaking of a drug trading, loanshark pirate, she reminds herself and stays the course. In every business there was the good, the bad and the downright ugly. "Do you think money will change hands? Or a drink of some sort. I could work with something like that." she shakes her head. "Either way just give me some time to think and I'm sure I can come up with something. When are your friends meeting her?"

"I wouldn't call 'er a pirate. Too old...or...." Cravs looks into the distance. Mindred might have been a pirate in her heyday, and that explained a lot. She blinks. "Ahem, anyway, when everythin' 'appens is up to me. When everythin's ready I can tell my friends what they need to know."

"Back when I 'ung out with 'em,  exchanges were drink free, actually. Everyone 'ad appearances to keep up, and no one wanted a deal to go sour cause Bob can't keep their 'ands off the bottle. But money, aye. Money was exchanged."

Aislinn nods. "Alright, then. As I said, give me some time. I'll come up with something." she hesitates, knowing time wasn't exactly something she had in spades at the moment. "Sooner rather than later, you can be sure."

"No rush. I expect we'll 'ave our 'ands busy with Momori's bullshite anyway. Cheeky lil' red eyed bugger." Cravs shrugs. "It ain't as pressin', is what I'm sayin'."

Relief seems to relax her upon hearing that Cravendy didn't need this device right away. "She says this is all about saving the star. But I still don't trust her an ilm. She isn’t the altruistic sort." Lin turns for the door, preparing to scoot herself back through. "Just...be careful with this drug deal business, alright? Generally, they aren't the best people to be messing around with, you know?"

"There's some other angle she's playin' at, I'm sure of it. Either that, or she's just plain bad at actin' normal." Cravs laughs - she's heard stories about Momori's attempts to smile. "Aye, don't worry. I've dealt with 'er kind afore. Not against 'em, but eh. Same difference."

With the details ironed out, the only thing left now was to figure out how to get down. The passageway through the attic beckoned to the two, promising hair full of webs and dust up the nose. Cravs groans.

[rovvboat]

Abort Mission - Cable/Nathan Summers x Reader P.1

Part 1

Warnings: Smut, NSFW content, Angst. 

A/N: Hope you enjoy this angsty smutfest! It’s my first time writing smut and I didn’t think that I’d do it so soon, but it seemed so.. //NEEDED// for this storyline- AGAIN: this one’s a long one bc I’m trying to set the scene for part 2 - the smut in this is worth it!!! So indeed look out for p2 if you enjoyed this one - its gonna be much more fast-paced than this one is ;) Cheerio~!

Words: 4k 

Summary: Your team had been tipped off about a possible resurrection of an unnamed villain by Black Talon and his followers, which prompted a recon mission led by Cable. Long nights awake had driven you to the point of extreme agitation.The remote and small location didn’t help and neither did the fact that you easily become a restless mess; to add to the complexity, you have a crush on Cable. Things get heated when you could no longer keep it in.

You were chosen as the on-site medic – despite your reluctance – by Colossus; who cited your usefulness, where resources would be limited, as the reason why you were best for the job.

And the choice was ditto-ed by Wade, who cited your terrible crush on Cable as the reason why he voted for you. To your relief, Wade’s voting was done where Cable wasn’t within earshot – so there wasn’t much to worry about. The last thing in Cable’s mind would be a relationship, and you weren’t prepared to test out that theory.

Of course, your powers could mold things out of the materials around you and enhance the healing factor of anyone you willed and you could, with enough time, change the landscape of a limited area by accelerating certain reactions… Damn your powers. It was so easy for you to get chosen as the in-and-out-house ‘’medic’’ – especially because of how fast you could recovered between missions.

Your high energy was also a key factor in this long-haul mission - which was expected to take at least 2 weeks. You and Cable were thoroughly prepped and the both of you set off to the post in record time.

The land rover bounced up and down as it sped through the rough and uneven terrain. The uncontrollable bobbing was making you feel sick, but you tried your best to keep it in, putting one hand on the dashboard to keep yourself steady as the car made a rag-doll out of you.

You looked over to Cable in the driving seat, his eyes focused entirely on the far away destination.

‘’Hey, how long til’ we reach the spot?’’

‘’We’ll be arriving soon, don’t worry. You feeling okay?’’ Cable responded, without taking his eyes off the road

‘’Well, I’d feel better if this car could stop wobbling so damn much.’’ You said as you used a hand rub circles around your stomach in an attempt to soothe it, and tried to make yourself feel less sick.

It worked. Until the next big bump in the road almost threw you off the seat.

‘’Do they not have cars in the future, Cable? You suck at driving.’’

Cable chuckled.

‘’Alright, alright, stop your whining. We’re here.’’ He said as he put the rover in park.

‘’And where exactly is here, Mr. Can’t Drive? We’re still in the middle of nowhere.’’

‘’We gotta walk from here, kid. The cabin isn’t too far off, and we don’t want the engine noise to alert anyone that we’re here.’’

‘’Wow, I didn’t know we were having an affair.’’

‘’Yeah. Sure.’’ Cable scoffed. He was one of the only few people who could take your snark, and you didn’t know whether it made you happy, or annoyed that it wasn’t annoying to him.

‘’Hey, I have a question. Since you know my real name, can I know yours?’’ You asked with a mischievous tone in your voice.

‘’It’s Nathan. Nathan Summers. Now let’s get to work.‘’

You were surprised by his candid response.

‘’I honest to God did not think it would’ve been that easy.’’ You remarked.

You and Cable got to unloading the gear and rations you brought. As you do, you noticed that he had stopped unloading, and was looking intently at something. You walked over to see what had caught his attention, when he spoke up.

‘’Tell me again, how would… a long bolster pillow… help us get information from our enemies? You gonna smother them into talking?’’ He joked as he held up the long grey cushion in front of him.

‘’That’s for me, Nathaniel. I can’t sleep if I’m not hugging something.’’

Cable looked at the pillow, then back at you; the smirk on his face clearly showing his amusement at this revelation.

‘’What?’’ You said, snagging your lovely pillow away from him.

‘’Nothing. I expected as much. Now get a move on. We’re burning daylight.’’

You both began trekking away from the dirt path and into the forest.

The forest looked magical. The rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, and the vines seemed to dance with the light breeze, as you walked through it. The slight crunching sounds of your feet treading on the leaf litter against the sounds of the forest – alive and creaking and croaking and cawing – reminded you of how out of place you were.

While you were busy taking in the sights and sounds of your surroundings, Cable made sure to mark the way leading into undisclosed location using a knife, in order to make it easier for you to find your way back; in case you get lost during the mission. He was lucky that you were easily distracted, else you would be trying to annoy him out of boredom.

After what seemed like days of walking – though honestly it was only about 30 minutes or so – the sight of a dilapidated cabin finally came into view. It was big, but obviously couldn’t have been your place of residence for the mission, mostly due to the fact that it stood crushed under a gigantic tree.

‘’Holy shit. That looks so cool!’’ You exclaimed under your breath. Cable hummed a sound of agreement. The kind of hum that an older sibling would make whenever a younger sibling points out something mundane and routine with a sense of renewed awe.

‘’Don’t patronize me, old man Nathan!’’ You said with a light shove.

You walked ahead to inspect the house, and saw that it had moss and algae growing all over. There were shards of glass scattered around the entrance, and to top it all off, a heavily rusted metal fence barricaded the front door and windows.

You looked up at the huge tree that had fallen onto it. The weight of the tree had caved the roof in – who knows how long ago – and now looks almost as if it was part of the cabin.

‘’Home sweet home.’’ Cable quipped.

‘’This has got to be a joke, ri-‘’ You started, but Cable cut you off.

‘’Stop talking and follow my lead.’’

You held onto your bag straps and grudgingly tagged along. He strode over to the thick base of the ginormous fallen tree; where its roots were pointed in all directions. The tree looked awfully old yet sturdy, but something about it seemed awkwardly placed the more you looked at it.

Cable did some mental calculations and made his way to the underside of the tree, near the perimeter of the cabin and pulled on a loose vine.

The vine was connected to a stealthily hidden trap door, which gave way as Cable tugged at it. You hadn’t even noticed the way it curved into a kind of entrance, but it was perfectly camouflaged against the deep ashy brown of the fallen tree. The trap door opened into a narrow crawlspace that looked like something out of a zombie movie.

‘’Go on, get a move on. We don’t have all day, Y/N.’’ Cable urged. He took out something which looked like a gun from his fanny-pack – he could call it a utility bag all he wants, it wasn’t going to make it true – and pulled the trigger, which released something into the distance with a strong wisp. He did this a few times at different angles.

You furrowed your brows, but didn’t question it and got into an army crawl position, pushing yourself into the crawlspace. It turned out to be bigger than you expected; dust and tiny fiber particles swirled around you as you pushed your way deeper into it – using what little light that entered to guide you wherever you were headed. You heard Cable enter into the crawlspace behind you and cover up the entrance, instantly engulfing you both in darkness.

‘’Nice place you got here, Nathan. Where do I put up my reviews in Yelp?’’ You commented, turning your head back at him as he caught up with you.

‘’You talk too much Y/N,’’ he returned, ‘’Now hurry up and get to the end.’’

You hustled and reached the end. You stretched your hands out and felt a metal wall in front of you. Before you could ask, Cable voiced out.

‘’Okay, now you have to pull on the lever. Feel around for it, it should be to your left.’’ He instructed.

Using both your hands, you felt around the ground and finally discerned a hard, metallic smooth protrusion from the adjacent wall. You pushed it up and suddenly, the wall in front of you rose with a mechanical shunting and clunking noise.

The wall revealed behind it a wide-open space, fully furnished with a narrow kitchen – with a door that led into the world’s tiniest washroom – and a small living room with a slender sofa and a single-bed right behind it. It was quaint, but better than anything you could ever have expected.

‘’Dibs on the bed!’’ You called out as you got up out of the entrance and jumped on the bed. Cable just sighed as he got up. It’s hard to even imagine that you were an adult. But it was entertaining – to say the least.

You helped Cable bring in and set-up the equipment at the surveillance post; which turned out to be the two-way window in the kitchen that overlooked the abandoned military base a little ways off - past a few trees and shrubbery.

You let out a deep breath, thinking about how long of a mission you had in front of you, as Cable arranged for a surveillance schedule. He carefully divided up the timings such that he would do most of the night watch while you did mostly daytime. A switch happened every 4 days for effective exchange of notes and to ensure that you both were on your toes. Cable passed you a set of earpieces as you were setting up.

‘’These are our ears on the ground. If anything happens in there, we’re gonna hear it loud and clear. The team also has a set back home and they would be helping us keep track of Black Talon’s followers. They can hear us – and the recording device in the abandoned base – but we can’t hear them.’’ Cable explained.

‘’Is that so?’’ You took an earpiece. ‘’Fuck you, Wade! I know it was you who took my M&Ms from the fridge and made Colossus take the fall! Colossus, buddy, you did nothing wrong and I will make sure Wade suffers for this.’’ You dramatically exclaimed into the comms device. 

Cable stared at you in what seemed to be both reserved disappointment and met expectations. A hard line to cross, but you do it anyway.

The first few days had gone by without incident – and no sign of Black Talon or his followers. However, on the fourth day, there was a sudden influx of noise in the comms. The followers had planned a ritual to allow Black Talon’s return as well as preparation for a ‘resurrection’ of sorts. All details were captured on audio, which made it easier for an eventual ambush. However, one crucial detail had not been disclosed.

When was this ritual going to happen?

All signs pointed to the speculation that it was going to be a month away. But the team wanted the mission to proceed as normal for another week to ensure nothing new popped up.

 Both you and Cable were clearly getting antsy. A good 5 days had passed since the last appearance or instance of anyone around the base, and so far, nothing seemed to be happening. Even picking on each other didn’t seem to satisfy the accumulating energy from being stuck in such a small space.

You tried doing some on-the-spot jogging and star jumps but still felt restless.

‘’Maybe you should try to get some rest. I can take it from here.’’ Cable offered.

You dragged your body to the couch, stretching out one leg over the couch as you let yourself fall onto the comfortable fabric, and tried to get some shut eye.

After 20 minutes of tossing and turning, you got up off the couch and walked toward the kitchen window.

Cable had been diligently standing watch, making notes of any activities around the abandoned base. He looked up to acknowledge you and went right back to keeping watch.

‘’I can’t sleep’’

‘’Have you tried hugging your pillow?’’ Cable asked nonchalantly as he continued refocusing the night-vision binoculars.

You rolled your eyes at him, and meandered over to him. You tapped him on the shoulder, then motioned with your hands for him to step away from his post in front of the tinted windows. You picked up the binoculars and scanned the surroundings.

‘’Boy do I love looking at nothing happening!’’ You tittered as you set the binoculars onto the table.

‘’We didn’t come here for a fucking field trip now, did we? If you could stop your incessant whining for about 30 seconds, maybe we could’ve gotten our job here done quicker.’’ Cable snapped back at you. Your eyes widened in surprise.

‘’Yeah, cos I’m that useless right?’’ You glared at Cable and stormed out of the kitchen. Great, now you were both restless and frustrated.

‘’What the fuck are you talking about?’’ He called after you.

‘’Forget it.’’                                            

You suddenly felt a hand clasp around your wrist, pulling you in the opposite direction, until you came face to face with Cable. You held your breath, you whole body tensed, as he paused for a second; eyes locked onto yours like a magnet.

The tension weighed down heavy in the room, as if all the forest was spectating your little show from the outside; waiting to see what you would do.

This couldn’t go on any longer.

You swiftly took one step towards Cable, placing your free hand on his neck, and drew him into a deep kiss. He slowly let go of your wrist and pulled you closer to him. His cybernetic arm on the small of your back, easing you into it.

He tugged at your legs with a low growl, with a neediness, a desire.

A desire that filled you as well.

You instinctively wrap your legs around him and Cable immediately propped you up onto his waist; almost as if it was what he was waiting for the entire time.

You brought your hands up to his face, as you broke away from the kiss, heavy pants escaping your lips as you stared into him. He seemed hesitant to continue.

‘’Are you sure you want to do this?’’ Cable asked tentatively. His low, husky voice sending chills down your spine as you held onto him.

‘’Yeah. I’m sure.’’ You seductively whispered into his ear; which was enough to drive him wild.

He let both your bodies collapse onto the couch, you on your back, and him on top of you. You picked at his shirt trying to find the edge, and dragged it up off him as he lifted his torso up to pull it over his head. His attention focused right back at you, as he placed kisses from your lips, down to your neck – lingering at your collarbone, causing you to arch your back as you stifled a moan. His hands go to work on your shorts, yanking it off, leaving your panties exposed.

He pushed his body off of yours and shifted your body up a little to pull your shirt off, exposing your bare tits to the cold. He took a second to admire your almost-naked body, running his hands over your breasts and pinching one of your nipples between his fingers, pulling at it gently as his tongue played with the other. You were turned on beyond belief.

He brings his face up to yours, hastily meeting your lips, as if time had kept them apart for too long. Your tongues moving slowly, playfully, around each other – fully getting a taste of each other.

Cable breaks the kiss, rhythmic heavy pants escaping from both of you. He moves to unbuckle his pants, but you beat him to it – pulling the belt out of its metal confines and discarding it onto the floor so quickly that it made Cable let out a deep chuckle.

You ignored it and continue unzipping his pants and yanked it down together with his boxers, exposing his thick cock. You stroke his length with fervor, and watch as he melted into your hands – his brows furrowed and his eyes closed, focused intensely on the feeling of your pressure moving up and down around his shaft, as you felt him get harder against your palms.

‘’Oh fuck, darling, this is gonna end too soon if you continue like this.’’ He moaned against your slow lazy strokes. He brings his hand down to stop you; pulling arms up over your head, holding them together as his body closes the distance between you two. You relent, allowing him control.

‘’Good girl. Now let me return the favor.’’ He whispered into your ear, his hand sliding down your thigh, then over the fabric covering your pussy. His finger circling around, pressing down whenever it was directly above your clit.

‘’You’re already so wet for me, doll.’’

‘’Fuck, Nate. St- Stop teasing– ‘’ You moaned.

‘’Tell me what you want.’’ He said as he kissed that sensitive spot on your neck, making you dig your fingers into his back. When you finally spoke, your voice was raspy and strained.

‘’I want you. Right now.’’

He immediately yanked your panties off, and brought his hand to his hard member, positioning it at your entrance – leisurely teasing your pussy with the tip of his cock.

‘’Nate!’’ You whined.

With one swift move, he pushed himself inside you – painfully slowly – as if he was restraining himself. You writhed under him as you got used to his size entering you. You search for his body – unbearably absent from yours – and pull at his hands.

He immediately goes to kiss you again, rhythmically driving into you, as his tongue found yours.

Your body stiffened from the overstimulation, and as the tension accumulated, you whimpered and squirmed beneath him. You wanted nothing but release, but your body wasn’t allowing it.

‘’Nate, please- fuck I can’t.’’ You said as you gnawed gently at his neck; trying to rid of all the pent-up energy.

‘’Just hold out for me a little more, doll.’’ He growled, getting close to his own climax. He shifted his body closer to yours, quickening his thrusts.  He put his arms around you in an embrace. His face lying next to yours as his hand pushed your face closer to his.

‘’Oh fuck- Nate, please- I need to-‘’

‘’Shhh… It’s okay. It’s okay Y/N.’’ He whispered into your ear as he circled your clit with two fingers – with just the right amount of pressure – edging you closer and closer to a much-needed orgasm.

‘’That’s it babygirl. I want you to cum for me.’’ He coaxed. He continued gently pushing into you.

The thought of having him delving so deep into you, with his fingers making magic on your clit, finally pushed you over the edge.

‘’Nate I’m- Fuck- I’m coming!’’

The orgasm seared through you; leaving your body arched, toes curled and legs trembling. The contractions of your pussy against his hard cock, pushing him to his own climax.

As all the pent-up energy slowly dissipated in those moments of satisfaction, you lowered your body down onto the cushions.

Cable continued where he left off and thrust into you, hard and slow. You let him find his own orgasm as he promptly pulled out and came over your stomach with a moan.

His body collapsed onto yours, his breathing steady as his eyes closed. His hair drapes onto his forehead. You instinctively go to shift it out of the way; and slowly ran your fingers through his hair. You watched him as he fell asleep on top of you, the sound of his breathing lulling you to sleep as you finally, finally, fell into a deep slumber.

 You woke up to the sight of sunlight filtering into the room, with the sound of bird chirping and going about their day.

All of a sudden, you felt a drop in your stomach, as you noticed that your bolster had replaced where Cable had been. You also noticed that there was a blanket over you.

Was I dreaming…?

You looked around and saw your shorts, shirt and panties folded neatly on the coffee table. Last night had happened, so where was Cable now?

You quickly throw your clothes on – save for the panties which you stuffed into your daypack – washed up, and wandered into the kitchen.

You noticed Cable leaning against the window frame – staring out the window – with a coffee mug in hand. He looked relaxed, but somehow distant. As if he was deep in thought.

‘’Good morning.’’ You voiced as a yawn escaped you. You stretched your arms over you, your feet tiptoed in an automatic response.

Cable watched you tenderly, catching your morning yawn and stretch.

‘’Good morning, Y/N. There’s some coffee in the pot if you’d like.’’ He responded, looking back towards the window.

You brush your teeth then pour yourself a cup of coffee and settle down on the small dining table. Cable moved towards the dining table, taking the seat across you. There was a sudden seriousness to him that demanded your attention. He set his mug on the table before continuing.

‘’Y/N… I hope that it was clear that last night… was a one-time thing.’’ He stated. ‘’I don’t want you to think tha-‘’

‘’No, yeah, I get it. I didn’t expect anything from this.’’ You interrupted, taking a sip of your coffee.

‘’That’s good to hear. And hey, we can finally get out of this hellhole. I think we have all the information we need for the ambush.’’ He divulged as he stood up, taking a swig of coffee before moving to wash it in the sink.

You kept quiet. Your heart sank the moment the words ‘one-time thing’ spilled from his lips. You did all you could to seem like it didn’t affect you, to make it seem like the tears brimming over your eyes were no indication of how you felt. You abandoned your half-empty coffee cup and hastened to the shower, where you could let it all out under the running water.

 Once the coast was clear, you and Cable packed all the equipment and made your way back to the rover. You followed Cable through the forest, not once stopping to look at the surroundings; your eyes focused straight ahead, but on nothing in particular, looking slightly dazed.

Cable had noticed your lack of wit and conversation, but knowing better, he decided not to remark on your newfound silence.

When you finally reached the jeep, you hauled your gear onto the back and settled yourself in the front seat. You wanted to sit in the backseat, but thought against it, should it arouse suspicion in Cable. You brought your bolster along with you to the front seat to help you ease the bumps.

Once he was done securing the gear in the back, Cable took the drivers seat and began the drive back to the X-Mansion; as you held onto your pillow while watching each tree pass by you from the window. The slow bumps seemed to induce sleep as you drifted off – your eyelids as heavy as your heart was – whilst Cable did his best to drive as smoothly as possible through the uneven terrain to take you both back home.

[das-boog]

I had an idea for a battle-monster setting where instead of being divided up by an elemental type (fire, water, dragon, etc) monsters were categorized by genre. B-movies have an advantage over Modern Scifi due to their solid rubber bodies being hardier than CGI, whereas Fantasy creatures get a fascination effect against Art Flick Metaphor Puppets. Wrote a drabble for it below.

———

When I was told I’d be conducting an interview with the local MonsTactics champion, I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. Certainly not the woman I’d been handed a photo of; tiny Anzu Goda, in a prim pantsuit, all professional smiles as she held up a tournament trophy alongside two other well known monster breeders clapping politely. Besides the artificial-plastic-orange hair she looked like she could be any other professional athlete, a far cry from the bombastic personae she had in the arena.

That was to be expected though; most breeders prestigious enough to have their own dojo were expected to be larger-than-life personalities. A career MonsTactician had a lot of expenses, and winning battles could often come a far second to selling merchandise. Ms. Goda was known to be more committed to the keyfabe of her profession than most, and I hoped for the chance to crack through that gaudy, vaudeville exterior to show people the REAL Anzu.

Driving up to her dojo, however, I felt the hubris of that expectation settle on me like a lead blanket. Ms. Goda’s flagship dojo, Milktooth Hall, is an imposing edifice miles into the mountains outside of town. Formerly an asylum, Milktooth’s imposing bulk of gothic architecture, wrought iron and apparently unfinished renovations did not exactly give off a welcoming, homey vibe. While the main building looked largely livable, from the road I could see shattered windows and missing shingles on the upper floor, and another house on the grounds that looked like it had suffered a recent fire. Even already knowing her reputation, the structure was intimidating, and I felt it was nearly instinct that made me check my phone’s reception and my pocket for mace before stepping out of the car.

So braced was I for some sort of danger that it was almost a relief when, at my touch, the door creaked open on its own to pitch blackness. It was too blatant for me to keep taking seriously, she had to be messing with me. Repeating that to myself until it was convincing, I walked into the house.

The foyer opened into a largely unaltered reception area for the asylum. Wooden benches had been replaced with plastic seats bolted to the ground and the floors replaced with linoleum the color of curdled milk. Lights seemed broken or flickering at random. I was the only person there. This was all, again, expected decor for the famed MonsTactician Goda, but I was surprised that I was the only person in the room. Had she been told I was coming? Image was one thing, but certainly Milktooth Hall had to have other staff? Battlers being trained, monster wranglers, classes, accountants, clerks, something? Even Black Jacobs, who raised monsters found at the unexplored sections of maps, kept local offices in his port of call to handle business. But besides the buzz of the neon lights and the odd distant creak or snap of the building settling there was nothing. After a few minutes alone and confused I made up my mind to search the building and opened the first door to my right.

This is how I met her, standing stock-still just behind the door, not showing so much as a flicker of shock when I shrieked in surprise an inch from her face. The beloved, bellicose, Bloodsplatter Tactician, Anzu Goda.

She was wearing the costume she had on in all the major tournament photo-ops, faux-leather strips and resin-faked metal scraps covered in fake bloodstains and artistically draped rags. The outfit was ramshackle mess faked perfectly around superhero sleekness. I was briefly disappointed. If she was meeting me the same way she met her battle opponents, then this might be just another promotion opportunity.

“You are… From the magazine.” She giggled, true to her stage presence as ever. Unblinking, mad grin, movements just a little bit too fluid. A performance cultivated by a slew of dance instructors, acting trainers and psychologists whose careers Anzu had made very, very prestigious. I tried not to let my judgment show.

“Yes. Ms. Goda, MonTactics Monthly. I’m Ezra, Ezra Goodfellow? I believe I spoke to your agent on the phone?”

“Yes I… Recall.” She froze and then whirled away from me, fake metal pieces clattering in my face as she made a 540 degree turn away from me. “This way, to down the hall! Everything will be clear there!” She giggled again, “We’re going to have so much FUN!”

I followed and tried not to audibly groan. Ms. Goda skipped ahead, pixielike, in my own opinion probably a bit too much so for a woman just entering her thirties. Lights began to click off at random. “This way, this way!” Another flash of the mad grin and a ballet twirl around a bend, out of my sight. “We’re almost to my favorite place! My favorite place in the whole building!”

Her voice was still echoing, like from the bottom of a well, when I rounded the corner and found her gone.

I was understandably frustrated; I’d naively hoped my status as a professional would’ve spared me this funhouse nonsense and, to be honest, the whole thing was getting to me. Not the building itself, although it certainly didn’t help; As we’d gone deeper in rusted pipes began to drip unidentifiable brown-red substances down the walls, tiling was missing, and the lights just seemed to get worse and worse as I went. It was how clearly manufactured it all was. The hokiness of the whole thing, right down to the dye in her hair. Something glass, a small bottle or vial, cracked under my foot and I cursed. I’d be lucky to leave this place without tetanus.

I have no idea how long I wandered, but it was more than long enough for my irritation to take root and ferment into a constant low-grade tension. The whole first floor of the building seemed like an endless maze of crisscrossing halls, and more than once I turned back toward what I was CERTAIN should be the lobby just to find more carefully-ruined medical offices and creatively stained wards. Eventually at intersections I would just turn the first way I heard a sound down, a distant giggle or a scratch. I briefly considered calling my editor for help but, true to form, my phone had already died.

It was in this high-strung, exhausted mood that I met Anzu Goda again, standing backlit in front of the door to what appeared to be an administrative office. “Ms. Goda!” Decorum long forgotten, I broke into a half-jog. “Ms. Goda please, I-I get it, we just-“

“Do you know what you are here for, Ezra… Goodfellow.” Sillouetted in the doorframe I couldn’t see her expression, but even so it felt like her gaze bore right through me. An air duct banged and dented overhead, something crawling inside!

“Yes the- the INTERVIEW dammit just let me do my fucking job-!” Professionalism abandoned, I broke into a sprint. My shirt had come untucked. Sweat stained my collar. I was grabbing her arms, shouting, shaking,  “Just let me know where we can actually sit DOWN and-!” The vent banged again. Something in it. I looked up at the vent. Wrong! Too late! Something screaming from BELOW me, bursting out of the tiles (loose, shitty linoleum, easily peeled up.) I feel back, flailing, screaming, crying-!

And… So did Ms. Goda. Some pale, bruised, almost translucent-fleshed THING had burst from the ground and was standing over her, shrieking, and tears were running down her face. Just two, around a wide mouth that stretched and contorted her cheeks so the tears ran zigzags. Her scream lasted longer than mine. It lasted longer than the monsters… And slowly faded to peals of laughter as she threw her arms around our assailant.

“Oh that was WONDERFUL Humphrey! Oh who’s my jumpy boy, who’s my loud jumpy BOY!” The creature- soft, eyeless, its fishbelly flesh mottled with random oozing bruises- made another small shriek followed by heavy wheezing and panting as it’s tongue lolled over its almost-human teeth, flopping randomly like a slug exploring. It had hooks for hands, and clammy skin pulled tight over bestial musculature and bones. At its full height it came up to Ms. Goda’s chest, and walked with a pronounced hunch. It headbutted her shoulder twice in catlike affection. Ms. Goda turned to me with another of her signature grins. “All the vents, pipes, secret passages and crawlspaces in the building intersect here, so this is the spot I picked for my office. Any of my rowdy little guys can come surprise me at any time. It’s my favorite place in the whole building!”

The office was comparatively more brightly lit, although I noticed there was still a slight flickering problem. I was soon sipping tea in a large comfortable chair while Ms. Goda ushered a few more Monsters into the room, casually pointing out where I could charge my phone (Humphrey had, out of a desire to “play” with me, apparently drained the battery. “He was probably stalking you about a half an hour,” She added conversationally). Her creatures (or, as she referred to them, “rowdy boys”) mostly kept on a large, thick shag carpet where they would stalk the perimeter, groom themselves with their tongues or rusted-looking blades, or get into brief and terrifying scuffles while we were at the other end of the room. The sole exception was a gaunt creature with what appeared to be a metal cylinder for a head, which set down a large butcher knife to crawl across the room and lay its not-head in my hosts lap. She patted it absentmindedly as we spoke.

“Sorry about all that… you seem pretty wiped out!” Her voice remained just as chirpy and sing-song as it had been when I first encountered her but I was starting to believe that might just naturally be who she was, ellipses and all. “That might’ve got a little out of hand. I was hoping to show off the unique… charm, I guess? Charm and beauty of my lil’ guys here.”

“I mean they made an impression. Humphrey was… Very intimidating. I’m sure he’s a terror in the arena.” I mentally went over the recent tournaments Anzu Goda had been in. I might’ve seen Humphrey deployed in the Hugo Arena in Heorot, exactly once, but I wasn’t sure.

“Hm? Oh sure that too, he’s an Aughts Greenscreen, little bit MacFarlene Slasher and Western Jumper mix. TECHNICALLY a vampire. See the hooks?”

“Yes, I remember now, he used those to bring down a Kelpie being fielded by the Heorot champion, Liana Monteblanc. Would you say then that that was your reason for using a mutt rather than a purebred-“

“Would you like to pet him?”

I froze. For most of these interviews a Tactician would parade out a few of their most prized or crowd-pleasing creatures for some photo ops, I’d never been encouraged to actually interact with one beyond throwing a target for it to chase or cajoling it into roaring for the camera. Besides a tank of Slithy Toves I’d kept when I was little and my mother’s loud, squawking Phoenix I’d always been more of a dog person.

“Would that be alright?”

“Humphrey! Come here!” The creature shambled up obediently at Ms. Goda’s beckoning, the one in her lap already shuffling away in some territorial submission display to Humphrey (Ms. Goda seemed displeased by this, but I didn’t really notice until later).

I slowly, tentatively reached out my hand, and Humphrey jerked to bite down on my wrist. I gasped and looked away, but the pain never came, and when I looked back the monster was holding my hand gently, but firmly, between its teeth. Its fat tongue squirmed between my fingers.

“Humphrey no!” Laughing, Ms. Goda placed one hand on the beasts flat face and shoved it away, making it release my hand with a wet scrape. “You’re going to want to reach out more forcefully,” she explained, demonstrating. She patted its head like a three year old would pat the head of a dog, a clumsy pantomime of affection, “Anxiety, fear, tentativeness, they zero in on that really closely. They’re incredibly empathetic creatures, even compared to most other monsters. If you seem doubtful about what you’re doing for even a moment they can tell, and the only way they know how to react to fear is to exaggerate it. Here, try again.” I did, this time imitating her rough handling, and was rewarded this time by Humphrey nuzzling my hand. Pretty soon the creature was hunched next to my chair, my arm reaching down to pat it occasionally. It felt cool and smooth, like leather with a thin layer of silly putty over it.

“Isn’t that nicer?”

“It is,” I had to admit it. I’d never seen a MonsTactician’s creatures behave so… intimately. Like something kept as someone’s pet rather than some grand incarnation of raw power. I’d stood beneath the bellies of dragons while their handlers pointed out the patterns of their scales, I’d seen pixies twinkle toxic or wish-granting glitters inches from my eyes, but casually patting the flank of this bleating, oozing horror I was cowed. My prepared questions fled me. “Do you… Do anything to get them like this? Some socialization training?”

“Oh most tacticians I’ve met are like this with their monsters in private. Some not,” Ms. Goda shrugged, “But for the most part you really cant work with any animal without some degree of empathic connection or affection, monsters are no different. I’m not surprised you cant really get at that side of them though, I didn’t really agree to this for the same reasons.” Her laugh twinkled, “I’m already rich, I don’t need to do favors for publicity.”

That rankled me a little. “That’s a little strange to hear, Ma’am. With all due respect, it seems odd that someone who doesn’t need publicity would go to the trouble of this whole performance.”

“Hm?”

“You know… Your whole battlefield schtick.” I was beginning to get frustrated again. “The abandoned haunted house, the costume, your whole mistress of horror act.”

“What?” She threw another mad giggle into the conversation, the way a card shark throws down a winning hand, “Ezra, what about this do you think is behavior that I wouldn’t exhibit anyway?”

“Ms. Goda,” I was getting a little sick of being condescended to, not that I wasn’t earning it. “It’s well known that every inch of this building, down to the rusted clasps on your costume and the passages in the walls, are the product of teams of set designers, acting coaches, fashion designers-“

“Oh pfft yeah everyone knows THAT Ezra, god,” she waved me to silence, still laughing, “Because I want to do the thing I would do anyway WELL.” She must’ve noticed my confused expression, because she continued, “I LIKE doing this Mx. Goodfellow. There’s no ‘’trouble’ involved. I LIKE playing the mistress of horror, and I don’t hide that I’m acting.” Her hand gently massaged the base of the metal-headed monster’s neck, eliciting a thrumming tinny purr. “I mean holy smokes man, my door opened by itself like something from an October B-movie. You KNOW who I am.”

I was heartbroken. I wanted to get to the real Anzu, and she was essentially telling me that there wasn’t one. That the woman WAS a fabrication, and lived as one, and liked it that way. She grinned at me leaning back in her chair across from me, fang-caps on her teeth sharp and obvious, streaks in her thick black mascara from when she’d been crying just ten minutes ago tracing drips and zigzags down to her jaw like they’d been painted on. Maybe they had been. I sighed and got into the boilerplate questions; if she wanted this to be rote, I could do it rote and leave.

“Most famous MonsTacticians pick a genre of monster to raise, sort of as their bit. Is that why you chose Horrors, to play into this fantasy?”

“Sort of a chicken or the egg thing really. The truth is that when I first got into raising these guys I hated the idea of ever making them fight.”

“Ah, but most monsters need some degree of violence, conflict or intrigue. Even something as docile as a sphinx needs chances to ask riddles and gamble on the outcome,” I pointed out, “We’re not talking about a pet bird or a normal animal, we’re talking about something with flesh wounds for eyes and rusted fishhooks for hands. A lot of monsters are innately aggressive and need an outlet.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No. No monster is innately aggressive.” Briefly, Ms. Goda’s smile took on a frozen edge. A simian display of teeth. “Monsters are reflections of us, of humans. WE’RE innately aggressive and need an outlet. We’re innately dangerous, loving, curious, most HUMANS need some degree of violence, conflict or intrigue. And monsters follow us to them. Do you want me to finish answering your question?”

“I’m sorry, do continue.”

“To fall back on stereotypes, I never really got along with other kids when I was small. My parents had a big house with a property that extended into the woods behind it, and I was an only child, so I spent a lot of time by myself.” She sat back and gripped her mug of tea in both hands, delicately, that soft thrumming anger I’d only barely glimpsed fading to reminiscence. “I was homeschooled for a long while, so I only started spending much time around other children in middle school.” She grimaced, “Bad place to start with humans, really. I honestly think we should raise the age where you’re allowed to take care of monsters a little higher than thirteen, after they stop being monsters themselves. It’s like a feedback loop. But that’s not what you’re here for.” She sipped the tea once, one hand at her jaw to preserve her makeup. “I didn’t really understand them, and they didn’t want to understand me… It felt like the results of every interaction I had with people was completely divorced from my actions. I’d tell a joke, I’d get stared at. The next time I did they laughed. The time after that someone called me an idiot. Eventually I was just… doing random things to see how they’d react. Throwing behavior at a wall to see what would stick.”

 “My parents noticed this and would try to get me to break out of my shell. They’d ask me about my classmates, invite the ones they thought I might like to our house for playdates and birthday parties and we’d go romping around the woods, but it still didn’t really click. They liked my toys, they liked my big house and big yard, but I was still an incomprehendable foreign being. The best I could do was mimic them.” She laughed again, twinkling, “Honestly by then it was probably a self fulfilling prophecy. I already assumed nothing I did to make real friends would work.”

“These days, a child with a monster or two can be afforded a lot of freedom. We’d go rollicking deep into the woods, with a couple kids and their monsters keeping watch for anything wild. I remember one of them had a dragon, a big fat goofy eighties-barbera lump of scales and tiny, agile wings, while the other one had some big floppy puppet of a brute that has parents had gotten to teach him his numbers and ABCs when he was little. Supposedly, they would be able to smell any other monsters coming and hustle us home if something were to go wrong.”

“So, when the other kids didn’t see what was following us, I assumed I wasn’t supposed to either and ignored it.” I remember when she got to this part I double checked that the recorder was working. There is a page in my pocket notebook where I distinctly recall writing the words ‘dark backstory???’ and circling it.

“Every glance I got of it was moving slowly, deliberately through the trees above us, gentle enough to be mistaken for just branches moving in the breeze, but it seemed to have no trouble keeping pace with four rambunctious children and their caretakers. Maybe one of the kids had brought a third monster? I heard some fae were supposed to be shy. Or maybe it was something mundane, like some… big monkey. I was twelve.” Ms. Goda chuckled, “It made sense to me.”

“We hadn’t really DECIDED we were going to the creek, Shifat just said he saw a deer there and we just sort of wandered in that direction.  Susan hated the woods though; the dragon was hers, and riding on its back had gotten her hair caught in hanging branches here and there.                “As she ran up to the waterfront to check her curls in her reflection, I saw the thing in the trees above us speed up, to keep pace with her. I almost raised my voice to shout a warning, but back then I didn’t really have the nerve.”

“I waited with this kind of dread you only experience with social anxiety as like, the look on her face went from preening to frozen fear and confusion, when she saw whatever was waiting above her reflected in the running water. And it was new to me because for once I felt like I could predict how she was reacting. Like, I knew she was about to freak out, because I understood what was prompting this.”

I tried not to salivate and wrote over ‘dark backstory???’, capitalizing it.

“It dropped from above, slower than gravity should allow. Its flesh was mottled hues of dirty pink and green, solid and warty like an armadillos shell. Its face was a cluster of human molars. Its twelve legs ended in delicate, ladylike hands that reached out to brace against the surface of the water, like it might float away without the surface tension to latch on to, with steepled fingers as it lurched its bulk, mouth first, toward Susan.”

I circled ‘DARK BACKSTORY???’ a few more times, excitedly. Ms. Goda did not appear to notice.

“We all screamed. That’s… Kind of the main point I remember. If I focus I could tell you about how her dragon pulled her back with a wheezing burble before horking a wad of flame at the thing, or about Shifat’s Puppet sweeping all of us into its hairy arms and booking it for my house. Or about Aaron’s snotty panicked face a few inches from mine or the clacking howling of the creature behind us but what really stuck with me was that… Scream. It was the first time in forever I’d done anything around anyone else that I hadn’t overthought or tried to control. I just let loose and let what I was feeling come out and everyone else did too, at the same time.”

I underlined ‘DARK BACKSTORY???’ frantically.

“I’d never really felt like I was doing something WITH others before.”

… I thought for a moment, and then crossed out ‘DARK BACKSTORY???’

“I was… Really, really used to not really being in-sync with other children. I didn’t react the same way as them… to bad news, to surprises, to new experiences or enjoyment. Everything I did around my school friends was really carefully analyzed or rehearsed in my head first because I was worried about humiliating myself, or driving people off. But I just reacted instinctively, on the same level as the other kids, without a moment of thought. And afterwards I felt great! Feeling so pent up all the time wasn’t exactly good for a preteen, one good long scream did more for my mood than all the therapy my parents could pay for.”

“I’ve heard some say fear is more of an instinct than an emotion, a defense mechanism.” I offered, “You had trouble connecting empathically, but something so basic-“

“I mean sure maybe,” Goda shook her head and took another sip of her tea, “The point was that I finally had a starting point. Fear. Surprise. Shock. There was a… a Control group that I could start from for understanding other people.”

“So what was the next step?”

“Immediately after? For a couple weeks I was in the habit of hiding in closets and cupboards and jumping out to scare my parents. So when they got fed up with that I got sent along to a new therapist, who figured that I was trying to work through my traumatic incident with the creature in the woods.”

“Something of a swing and a miss.”

“I mean hell, he wasn’t completely wrong. Just whiffed the follow-through. His first idea was exposure therapy, had me play with small therapy monsters they kept that were similar. He had a tooth fairy and a boggart that he thought would be similar. Real couple of cuties, but … Kind of missing the point. The next step was him showing me the articles about how they, y’know like, captured and relocated the thing from the woods that attacked Susan, and that DID catch my eye. Apparently it was a Bandersnatch that had been feeding off ectoplasm runoff from a local prison. When it got big enough to divide, it split into this and a few other ghoulies. It’s really fascinating, like when a Bandersnatch or a Jabberwocky or anything else of the Wunderlander family take in enough external thematic elements they just kind of swell up and SPLIT into new monsters, it’s why there’s so many-“ The topic seemed to be working Ms. Goda up and I was worried we’d lose the plot, so I tried to bring the subject of our chat back to her.

“The creature that attacked you, where was it relocated to?”

“… Uhh, a shelter.” Goda got quiet. “According to the article it was, um, slated to be destroyed.”

“Oh.”

“I guess I understood? It had attacked a child. But I feel like a lot of problems could have been avoided if they’d just moved it to the right habitat. A sunken ship or an abandoned laboratory, someone puts up a sign, maybe get a behavioral specialist in there…”

“A specialist… Like you are now?”

“A bit, yeah.” Anzu grinned, “You know, horrors are the only breed of monster whose primary means of defense or offense requires forming an empathic connection?”

“You mean like Humphrey here did earlier?” I raised an eyebrow and patted the creature with a damp ‘slap,’ “Oh yes, we bonded.” The creature wheezed and, in spite of myself, I rubbed the top of its head and cooed to it. “I’d hardly call screaming and leaping an empathic connection, Ms. Goda.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” There was that stiff, toothy smile again. The woman had some sort of direct access to the lizard-brain prey instincts of whoever she was speaking too. Her pupils pinned me to my chair like a moth to a board. I felt like I’d made myself look extraordinarily stupid to her again. “An abrupt scream can, without language, communicate intent and elicit a reaction that requires an understanding of the recipient and what they’re concerned about, but let’s disregard that. You used Humphrey as an example. Maybe you didn’t feel so close to him, but over the course of the entire time he was hunting you he had to figure out how attentive you were, how much noise he could get away with making in the vents to put you on edge without making you run for it, when to drain your phone’s battery so that you’d feel isolated, and when to bring it all home so that you’d be at your most panicked when he jumped out.”

I looked down at the monster incredulously. It was resting its head on its ankle in an awkward, folded up heap, tongue darting out to lick a scab every so often.

“He played you like a fiddle, Ezra. The instincts that make dogs play fetch are the same ones that they’d use to hunt squirrels. In the wild, the part where you were screaming, flailing and confused would have been where he’d brought the hooks out.”

Humphrey chewed on one toe. I could not find it in myself to describe the action as thoughtfully.

“The more I studied up on horrors, the better I understood what people found offputting. Did you know that there are celtic horrors, a breed of fae called The Gentry, that can completely fake a conversation with a human? They’re no more sapient than any other monster, but can give an impression of complete power with only vague, instinctive answers and precise body language? 50 people a year make bargains with them to grant wishes, and the backfire from the wishes are the Gentry’s feeding apparatus. There’s also the Eastern Haunt which, in addition to constantly emitting anxiety-inducing infrasounds, floods its prey’s den with a gas that suppresses the fight or flight response, but not the desire to act on one of them?”

“So you argue that, what, horrors understand human behavior better than other monsters?”

“I mean, I don’t want to disparage the work of my colleagues.” Ms. Goda grinned and chuckled again, hands fidgeting with each other as she spoke. I got the impression that she would, in fact, LOVE to disparage the work of her colleagues but that isn’t really my role as a journalist. Her fingers interlaced and broke away from each other quickly, like fighting crabs. “Black Jacobs once told me he sees man’s wonder for exploration reflected in the eyes of his favorite sea serpent, I’ve got no reason to disbelieve him. Rational Rick Redcliffe, the Paradox Tactician, says that his Rokos Basilisks and Laplace’s Demon make better company than most people he knows, but I kinda think that’s just because he’s really, really bad with people. I certainly do think Horrors are trying harder.”

“To understand us?”

“To empathize with us. Horror relies on emotion. Connection with an audience where you know exactly how uncomfortable to make them, and what kind of discomfort they need or want.” Anzu shrugged. “That’s what I learned from studying them, anyway. The more I learned about how Horror monsters defended themselves, the better I got at defending myself from humanity. What buttons are okay to push or lean on a bit, which ones to avoid because they’d provoke too much blowback.”

“So that’s all this then?” I gestured to the artfully delapitated building around us, “You do this to push people’s buttons.”

“Swing and a miss, Goodfellow.” Her grin was back, lightly infuriating. “I don’t do this FOR anyone. I just accepted that I’m going to push people’s buttons anyway. So I might as well pick the ones that we both get something out of.”

“Can you elaborate?”

 “I didn’t need to pull back from people, Ezra, I needed to throw myself at them with fuller force! Monsters just need presence, the chance to exist as a force upon events. PEOPLE need drama, Ezra. They need the things that they think monsters need. Violence, intrigue, they need to feel like sometimes things have high stakes! Instead of holding myself back, I let myself go off the rails. I got in people’s faces, laughed at my own jokes if nobody else was going to… I let myself be as loud and abrupt and as frantic as I needed to be, with just enough awareness and control of where I was sending things to avoid the stuff that would really hurt people. It didn’t matter if I staggered too far into discomfort as long as I veered out again right after. A good scare is followed by closure. A mess can be therapeutic, as long as it’s cleaned up. After people scream it all out, endorphins flood into the space left behind and they laugh!”

“And this got other children to like you?”

“Oh no they HATED it,” Ms. Goda gave another cackle, “For the most part. But there’s more place in a social group for an oddity than there is for someone trying and failing to fit in. I found people that appreciated who I was naturally rather than having a role in their life that needed filling. Or, maybe they just needed the role I filled naturally? Either way, things picked up.”

“It sounds like this is where you really started to come into yourself. Where the Bloodsplatter Tactician began. What did your parents think of the change?”

“They were glad I was happier, but were worried that my new habits would make life harder for me. Got me tested for aspergers syndrome, fussed over whether I’d be able to hold a job or find a husband.”

“Those sound like the sort of concerns most would buckle against.”

“I never really thought about it enough to have an opinion? My ex-wife thought it was funny as hell though.” I perked up here; Anzu’s personal life was the subject of much gossip and speculation, and there had been a rumor that her five year cohabitation with the troll-rearer Liana Monteblanc had been something more.

“I suppose you may have had some trouble getting close to others, what with your larger than life personality-“ I was rewarded by another peal of frantic, chirping laughter.

“Sure thing Ezra, that’s why so many leads in romance stories play such passive, subdued characters,” That grin was back, toothy and playful, “People need intrigue, remember? They need to be regularly overwhelmed and awed and released. That’s part of what attracts people to monsters in the first place, and it gives monsters a chance to be provided what they need.”

“I thought you said monsters don’t need violence?”

“I’m not talking about violence Ezra, I’m talking about presence. Look at Grendel, or Medusa, or Polyphemous. What they need is to be massive, to have an impact that bends circumstance around it. It reflects on humans that the best ways we can ever think about expressing that is violence. Not that it can’t work in context, but it’s part of what I want to address in my own career. Hence today’s interview.”

“It sounds like your opposition is to the very concept of Monster Battling, Ms. Goda.”

“I’m opposed to ONLY monster battling, Mx. Goodfellow, because it results in drastic misunderstanding of beautiful creatures that have been our companions at least as long as the dog, if not longer. Like look, take in Jiji here.” At this Anzu chucked the cylinder-headed monster under its, lets say chin, and ran her knuckles down its back roughly. I leaned in to peer at the creature, noting the flutelike oozing perforations on its arms and legs.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you employ this one in the arena, Ms. Goda.”

            “And you won’t, he’s a rescue.”

            “Where from?”

            “My last batch of classes.”

            “Pardon?”

            “Milktooth hall is a battler dojo Ezra, I DO train people here.” Anzu giggled, a high-pitched rattling of pleasure, “A few people wanting to get into the Montactics industry sign up for classes on raising and battling monsters every year. You have to be committed, of course, we’re something of a remote locale, but for people that want it badly enough…”

            “I see.”

            “Jiji was being kept in a steel locker the trainer had bought at an auction for a dilapidated school, chosen simply for rusted aesthetic without even the slightest attention to who the prior owner had been or whether or not it had been used for any sort of sinister disappearance. The ectoplasm he was being fed was scraped entirely off of vengeance fantasies and suppressed fetishes. Jiji here was weak, malnourished, aggressive, and showed signs of wanton abuse.”

            “I mean, it is a horror Ms. Goda, I would expect that-“

            “Hence WANTON, Ezra!” Anzu launched forward out of her chair at me, Humphrey and Jiji scattering away with a spray of scabs and soft, flailing limbs. The Bloodsplatter Tactician’s arms reached out to either side of my chair and, instinctively, I tried to recoil and hide deeper in the cushions.

            The light was behind her head, casting all of her into a silhouette. Stick-thin limbs interrupted by the jagged offshoots of her costume. All I could make out were here eyes and teeth, gleaming above me.

            “Horrors aren’t just a collection of Bad Things you can funnel human grossness into and get a result, Mx. Goodfellow!” Spittle flecked my face with every other word, blowback from the unknowable world of her open and enraged maw, “Each one of these creatures is, in and of themselves, an ECOSYSTEM of emotion, experience, texture, and instinct that has to be kept BALANCED! A monster needs to be able to bend the world around it, to have presence solid enough to keep itself impacting its environment! Jiji was forced to sleep in a box, Ezra! An ugly, unhaunted box, without a scrap of history for it to soak! Forced to choke down and guzzle scraps of teenage agony without the rich nutritional value needed to develop a thematic target! How could it empathize with its prey enough to victimize it without any personal qualities of its own? What archetype is it supposed to break when it’s only disruption is good taste?! I do not train people that don’t aspire higher than running some slasher-mill to keep the new owners of the Native Animosity stocked up on disposeable ghouls!”

            She was breathing heavily. Her breath was fogging my glasses, but I almost saw a new trail making its way down the mascara on her cheek.

            I clicked my pen, awkwardly, “So you… Took Jiji?” Anzu blinked and stepped back.

            “Ezra that would be illegal as hell.”

            “I mean, you just sounded very passionate about-“

            “Could you imagine if it got out that a major MonsTactician was just stealing monsters from people that came to her for training? My career would be over.”

            “Well that’s very-“

            “I took her aside, expressed my concerns and explained to her that I was worried that she couldn’t provide what this creature needs. I told her what needed to change, and if that was too difficult I offered to take the creature off her hands and compensate her for it.”

            “Okay well that makes more-“

            “Then she got institutionalized and I cut a deal with her family instead.”

            “What?”

            “Uuuugh it was so stupid,” Ms. Goda flopped back in her chair, head rolling back like a frustrated teenager. “The girl heard what I said about history and tried to hook Jiji up directly to a psychoactive pump funneled directly off of a set of violent crime news blogs. If it had worked, her failure to dilute it with adequate metaphor could have taken years off Jiji’s lifespan, but instead the pump sprung a leak and doused her with the raw ectoplasm.”

            “Oh my god.” Anzu nodded.

            “Stage 3 Cthonic Genre Awareness. They had her taken away to St. Pratchetts, screaming about being a background character in a piece of short genre metafiction.”

            “That’s horrible!”

            “It is… But I suppose it works out for Jiji here.”

            “Cold comfort, I suppose.”

            “Is it?”

            “You don’t think so? The girl wanted to make a change, she came to you hoping to gain understanding. The fact that your advice was so misunderstood, or went so catastrophically wrong in its execution, doesn’t strike you as a little tragic?”

            “I mean, yes, of course.” Anzu’s hand fluttered and grasped, spiderlike, to the back of Jiji’s neck to resume petting. “Honestly, that might be part of what she might’ve misunderstood in the first place.”

            “How do you mean?”

            “There’s a temptation, in horror, to contextualize it as something that only happens to bad people. That we can feed them vengeance fantasies and gifts from exes and personal, unbreakable judgement,” Anzu pulled Jiji further into her lap, where it began to emit that metallic ringing purr. As she stroked its back, spines dripping some sort of green ichor rose and fell along its vertebre, careful to point away from its masters fingertips.

            “I think that’s something people do in real life a lot, too. Contextualize horrors as things that only happen to people who made some kind of moral or tactical mistake,” I hadn’t noticed it at first, but the sound of the monsters playing on the carpet had stopped. A creature like a ball of tar with nails sticking out had paused mid-wrestling with something not unlike a fanged barnacle. Both had turned their heads to stare at me.

            Humphrey had too, for that matter. When I reached out to pat his bald eyeless head again he pulled back, with a warning hiss.

            “They figure they’ll never be poor, or assaulted, or lonely, not because of any external factor but because they consider themselves ‘good’ in some abstract, unaddressed definition of the term. Pious or rational or charitable or successful or kind.” Jiji’s lower body still knelt on the floor. Anzu Goda, the Bloodsplatter Tactician, wrapped one leg around it possessively and clutched it in her arms like a child with an oversized toy. She glared at me over the top of its head, her voice trancelike.

            My phone was still charging on the desk, five feet away. It felt like a mile. I remembered what Anzu had said about monsters not needing to be violent. I also remembered that the one she’d encountered in the woods in her youth, that she had so much sympathy for, had attempted to seize a child.

            “The fact of the matter is that horror, that real meat-hook sensation you feel behind the ribs to drag out a scream, works best when you acknowledge that a perfectly good person can do everything right and still be the next…” I heard a low, rumbling wheeze from Humphrey, “… Victim.”

            Why would a reclusive celebrity agree to her first interview in years, gush about how much more closely she connected with the most aggressive breed of monster than she does with humans, and then cop to giving advice that might have gotten one of her trainees sent to an insane asylum?

            I looked down to organize my notes. My hands felt clammy and I remember hoping, briefly, that they didn’t smudge my ink. Breaking eye contact was a mistake. “W-well Ms. Goda, you’re clearly passionate about your work, I s-suppose I should ask if you have any further thoughts for our readers before-“

            Anzu Goda let out an earpiercing HOWL, and Jiji launched itself from her lap. Before it reached me my world turned sideways; some part of me that wasn’t screaming registered that Humphrey had slammed into my chair from the side. I pressed back into the cushions to keep from banging my head on the linoleum and tumbled across the floor, coming to a rest by the desk.

My phone. It should be charged by now. I scrambled to my feet, still lurching and dizzy, and grasped for my canister of mace. It took another three seconds of panicked fumbling, staring down the approaching monsters and the back of Ms. Goda’s seat, before another all-important detail bubbled to the surface of my thoughts.

            “… Did you just yell ‘Boo!’?”

            Laughter erupted from the other side of the seat. Anzu clambered up to sprawl over the back of her chair. In spite of myself, I began to laugh too. “Oh my god I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect Humphrey to get in on it, that was way out of hand, but that was AMAZING. Are you alright?”

            “Possibly a little bruised,” I admitted, still chuckling (I wouldn’t notice until later, in my car, two perforations in my neck just below the jaw. They were healed by the time I’d gotten home, and at the time of writing this I’m pleased to observe no noticeable signs of tetanus). I hated to admit it, but Anzu had a point about how you felt after a fright. My muscles felt loose, my heart was pumping, I was incredibly relaxed. If she could bottle a good rush of fear endorphins I suspected Anzu Goda would never have to work again. Not that she’d ever willingly retire.

            “If anything aches I have ibuprofen in the top drawer of that desk and tequila in the bottom one. I hope that wasn’t too much Ezra, I’m supposed to keep them under better control than that.” Jiji and Humphrey had marched back to either side of her chair, and at this remark she reached down and pressed their heads into a lower bow with a ‘tsk’. “You two say you’re sorry, I have to go give Mx. Goodfellow the rest of their tour.”

            “You asked me for a closing statement, Ezra,” Ms. Goda went on, escorting me out of the office and locking the door behind her (I heard the sound of some of the creatures clambering back into the buildings air ducts, others scratching and whining on the other side of the wall). “Do you mind if we handle the photos the Monthly wanted while I think of a good one?”

            “You mean that whole display wasn’t it?” Anzu gave another cackle and reached up to throw an arm around my shoulders. It felt like being hugged by a rubber Halloween skeleton.

            “Mx. Goodfellow, I have to invite you over again sometime. You’re exactly my kind of stick in the mud.”

            “A perfect victim, you mean.”

            “That too. But really, I don’t think you appreciate how much you’re helping me today.” Her tone softened in a way I hadn’t heard previously. “Horrors are the most frequently misunderstood genre of monsters. I agreed to this interview to sort of… Un-demonize them in the eyes of the public, I guess? Help them get more popular, and into good homes.”

            “You un-demonized them by having them chase me around an abandoned asylum?”             “I mean I’m not magic. They demonize themselves a little.” She winked, and I noticed some of her remaining makeup clotting at the corner of her eye. “But some folks need a few demons, right?”

            The interview portion of my visit was a difficult act to follow, so Ms. Goda elected not to try. Or maybe she took showing me around the actual functionality of Milktooth Hall too seriously to ham up. Regardless, I finally got to meet some of the battlers Anzu had trained, working in the nurseries and pens for her creatures. They were a varied bunch. A man of forty with a long goatee and tattoos on his palms delicately removed a Xenophormous creature from the chest cavity of a pig and gently placed the writhing, mewling monster pup aside as he moved to the next hanging incubator. His name was Marv. He’d gotten into raising horrors as something to do after his daughter left the house. Anzu was giving him the pick of this litter for volunteering, after they’d been weaned and eaten the obligatory runt.             I also got to witness the feeding of her latest addition, an attempt at Genty/Greater Vampire crossbreeding, with the assistance of a gaggle of teenagers from one of her classes. They were taking turns swinging a ballistic gel dummy wrapped in a Kevlar vest winched to a cable at the ceiling (which Ms. Goda assured me was a standard enrichment toy most battlers gave to their monsters) into range of the things claws where it would rake the gel body to pieces, babbling gothic nonsense in iambic pentameter. Every successful strike resulted in peals of laughter from the youngsters, followed by dares to swing the next pass closer. It was actually while I was lining up the photo of the group I eventually chose to accompany this article that Anzu settled on a closing statement.

            “So far, Mx. Goodfellow, I’ve been threatened with closure seventeen times.”

            She simply dropped the sentence into the silence of me setting up my tripod so neatly, like a seltzer tablet into a glass of water, that you could mistake it for your own thought. Words bubbled forward without disturbing the surface as I lined up my shot. She spoke evenly and quietly, not looking in my direction.

            “Three times were concerned citizen groups. Two were former students. One was due to a city ordinance that, abruptly, qualified my dojo as an unlicensed slaughterhouse. Once was Rational Rick Redcliffe, although I think it was just because he wanted to prove one of his tedious ‘points.’ I don’t totally remember the others. And most don’t surprise me. I’m in the business of making people uncomfortable. 

“People have every good reason to be repelled by horror, Ezra. I don’t deny that. That same immune response that lets people recognize other people as untrustworthy is the one that leads them to the conclusion that me, my creatures, and my work doesn’t belong in the public eye or should be subject to strict, codified limits.”

            The teenagers smiles had begun to freeze. I didn’t dare take the picture. If the click of my camera interrupted Anzu I’d never forgive myself.

            “Monsters are reflections of US though, Ezra. Denying or limiting the myriad forms they can take is to deny our own nature. Being disgusted by one is like a dog looking in a mirror and getting angry at this other, similar dog. Locking these sorts of things away or shoving them into the dark parts of the world we don’t look at… That doesn’t HELP a lot of people. Some need to understand that discomfort. Some need to experience that horror in order to get their release. Some need to find their way to empathy just by this… groundwork, followed by process of elimination. Raising or handling horrors can often provide those things safely, so long as the owner can be trusted to recognize what they are.             “My hope is that these breeds will become more popular with the general populance. Not just battlers, but ordinary people that need this kind of companionship. I want to see more slasher mills shut down, I want to see more Haunts and Psychopomps go to good homes instead of ending up as scared and sickly as Jiji was when I found him. I sincerely implore your readership to look into their hearts and ask themselves… ‘do I need a good scare?’”

            Anzu Goda finally glanced in my direction and winked, grin returning like a crack in a cartoon earthquake. “How’s that for a closing statement, Mx. Goodfellow?”

            “Sounds like good press, Ms. Goda.” I replied, and took the photo.

            -Last Professional publication of Ezra Goodfellow before leaving Montactics Monthly. Present whereabouts unknown.

[askcatvirgil]

What would happen if Cat Virgil got lost? I know they're in the mind-scape so maybe Roman accidentally leaves his bedroom door open and Virgil wanders in and gets lost in Roman's world of imagination and creativity. The others get so worried about him and Virgil is completely freaked out. Sorry about the really long idea, but I'm just pondering story possibilities....

Ah, a very real possibility, as cats wander away from home frequently! 

I’m going to answer that, but first, I’m going to use your ask as an opportunity to talk about--

What To Do If Your Kitty Runs Away

A lot of these tips are lifted directly from Pet FBI. I’m just distilling them into a list and adding a few of my own suggestions from experience. :) 

First and foremost: most kitties don’t go too far from home!!! This is the number 1 thing to remember. Cats have a great sense of direction and an even better sense of smell. They know where home is. 

 If this is the first time they have gone out, they are probably scared and hiding. You can check around your home in nooks, crannies, hidey holes, etc--under bushes, in your house’s crawlspace (if you live in a house), 

But remember: cats are VERY good at hiding. You are far more likely to have success luring your cat back than you are finding him on your own. Here are some tips to do that: 

- Leave something that smells familiar to the kitty outside, like a pillow they slept on or even a scoop of used litter. I know that sounds kinda gross but cats tend to return to familiar smells. 

- Leave out some food. The stinkier the better. Tuna, anchovies, sardines, etc. Heat it up for an even stinkier enticement! 

- If you have a garage door, leave it cracked open far enough to let kitty slip in. 

- LISTEN. Cats meow and scratch at doors but they tend to be most active at night. Make sure you’re paying attention! Pet FBI recommends you sleep near the door or even use baby monitors to alert yourself to your kitty’s return. 

- Sit outside and talk. Don’t call for your kitty or cry or plea, but sit outside and talk on the phone or with a friend in your normal speaking voices. Cats respond well to that. 

If your kitty doesn’t return, make sure you check the ‘found’ sections of your local message boards. You can call shelters as well. Alert neighbors to keep an eye out, or make ‘lost’ posters. If kitty hasn’t returned on his own after a few days, there’s a good chance they’ve gotten stuck somewhere, so remember to look UP, too--trees, rooftops, etc. Cats are much better at getting UP than they are at getting DOWN. 

Cats can get stuck in other people’s garages and sheds, too. Take a walk around your neighborhood and chat on the phone, pausing to listen now and then. If kitty is stuck nearby and hears your voice, he may start mewing to get your attention. 

The big thing is don’t panic, and don’t give up! Cats are very independent creatures, and even animals who have been raised indoors have very good instincts for survival. I’ve had cats missing for months who returned one day, pert as you please, like ‘oh yeah mom no big deal, just back from my world tour.’ Keep these strategies in mind, and remember, the sooner the better. Enticing a cat back early is always the most successful method!

Now, for those of you who read this far, a quick little headcanon: 

CatVirgil gets into Princey’s realm when Roman accidentally leaves his door open. Roman runs in after him but Virgil quickly disappears because Roman’s realm is huge and expansive, with forests and meadows and castles and just about anything else you can imagine. 

Roman admits what has happened to the others, and the three of them venture into Roman’s realm to find him. They spend days searching, calling for Virgil, following clues and whatnot. Then one night, they’re sitting around the campfire just talking, and Roman breaks down and starts to cry because he feels so guilty and afraid for Virgil. What if Virgil is hurt? He’s got to be so scared, out there by himself. If anything happens to him--

Just then, the others gasp, but Roman doesn’t notice, because he’s too busy berating himself between his tears. But he does notice when he feels a tiny bump against his elbow. He jerks up and looks down and there’s Virgil, staring up at him, eyes wide and concerned. Roman immediately picks him up and hugs him, crying and laughing because Don’t you scare me like that again, Virgil! and I’m so glad you’re okay!!! 

And Virgil curls in against him and purrs like “yeah no big deal, but i knew you loved me.” 

[xwwaqdyd-blog]

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[samuelfields]

Warning Signs To Look Out For Before Buying A House

Physical real estate is my second favorite asset class to build wealth. Online real estate is my first. Unfortunately, owning physical real estate can be a royal pain due to never-ending maintenance issues. You can buy new construction and I guarantee you there will be problems that need addressing within several years.

After inspecting hundreds of houses and buying and selling multiple properties over the years, let me share with you some sneaky tricks sellers deploy to make a house look better than it really is as well as some warning signs to be aware of.

Warning Signs When Buying Property

Selling a property is stressful. Your goal as the seller is to make your property look as good as possible in as cost efficient manner as possible. Therefore, the cheapest and easiest things to do are paint, change light fixtures, clean, and redo the floors. As a buyer, you need to look beyond the cosmetics to see what’s really going on.

1) Exterior cracks and tilts. The inside can smell fresh from that wonderful floor varnish and paint, but the exterior could cost you a fortune if you don’t pay attention. Here’s an example of a Victorian house in San Francisco that was purchased for $1.45 million in March of 2017. It looks OK, right? But when the owner went to get a permit to remove some decayed siding and a rotted door, he found more serious foundation issues.

Below is what the house looks like now in 2018. What went from fixing up some siding ended up being a complete demolition of the entire structure! Why? Because very often when you start rehabbing a property, the deeper you dig, the more problems arise. Once you’re in there, you figure you might as well replace more and more stuff until you might decide to the entire structure.

If you didn’t initially budget to spend six figures destroying the house as a buyer, your financial situation will be seriously compromised. On the other hand, if you did have plans to sneak a demolition to save on permit fees to build a massive structure for a flip, then maybe you’ll be just fine.

Bring a leveler, preferably with a laser pointer. Make sure the cracks aren’t much more than 1/4 inch wide. If they are, you should get a structural engineer to inspect.

2) Ownership history. Just like when you see a resume with a new job every year, a home with high turnover is also a serious warning sign. I consider high turnover as any home with an average ownership length of three years or less per owner. For perspective, the average length of ownership for a home in America today is about nine years. You can easily check homeownership turnover online.

It’s really hard to truly know what it’s like to live in a home until after you’ve taken possession. My biggest fear about buying my old SF rental property was that it was on a busy street next to the busiest street in all of San Francisco. My then girlfriend and I camped out for hours during the day and evening before making the purchase.

Yet even then, once we took ownership, we discovered we had underestimated the constant honking, rattling manhole cover, and tremors from the traffic. I ended up spending $10,000 for sound deadening windows that were installed behind the original windows which I also replaced with dual panes for another $10,000.

3) Look for water damage concealed by paint. If you conceal water damaged areas with paint, you trap the moisture in the walls that will likely lead to mold. Black mold is unhealthy to breathe. Look carefully at the underside of drawers and sinks in the kitchen. Look at the base of the tubs and toilets. One of the biggest culprits is the sheetrock underneath window sills. If you see soft or warped sheetrock, you know there are leaks.

During my 10 years of ownership, twice I hired a handyman to cut out the sheetrock, replace with new sheetrock, mud, sand, and then paint. In preparation for my sale, I also did some of my own patching and sanding work as well. Nevertheless, I still had to disclose the leaks in my disclosure package so they couldn’t use the lack of information to back out.

4) Uneven or bouncy floors. Always bring a marble to an open house and place the marble around different areas of the floor of each room. The older the house, the more important it is to do the marble test to see how uneven the floors are. Sometimes a house will aggressively settle, creating a hump in the middle. Deflections are costly to fix because you’ve got to rip out the existing floor, correct the support columns, find a matching floor, and finish it to match the original flooring. And if there are very uneven floors, foundation work might also be needed.

5) Beware of room fresheners. Stinky people wear deodorant or perfume. Therefore, stinky houses are often sprayed or decorated with scented candles or potpourri. Your mission is to find out whether there is an insidious odor emanating somewhere in the house. It could be a leaky pipe, mold, sewage, etc.

6) Beware when music is playing in each room. The agent/seller is trying to mask the noisiness outside. I know, because this is exactly what I did when I had potential buyers come over. I turned on the central fan to create some white noise and played some music in the master bedroom. Insist that all music and AC be turned off so you can determine the noise level yourself.

7) Areas the seller won’t let you see. If a seller won’t allow access to the crawlspace or a room in the property until you are under contract, they probably have something to hide.

8) Sellers providing incentives to waive inspection objection rights. There is no reason to waive those rights unless there is something big to hide. Always have an inspection contingency because it is your leverage to get out of a deal or negotiate your price lower.

Water proofing a leaking light well before I sold with Flexall sealant

9) No permits for work done. You should always ask to see the Report of Residential Building Record aka 3R Report. The 3R report is like the report card for your property. If the seller says they added a new deck, the new deck should be in the 3R report. If it’s not, then there is a chance the deck was not built up to code, and may, therefore, be unsafe.

There are some things that really don’t need a permit, such as remodeling a bathroom or changing windows. You can easily tell whether the work has been done right or wrong. But for major structural and electrical work, a permit is very much preferred.

10) Spray painted hedges. Who the heck would spray paint their hedges? It looks so fake. Yet here I was, minding my own business on an afternoon stroll when I saw a realtor do just that. They also bought new grass for their once dead front lawn. Smart on the natural grass, but not so smart on the spray. Curb appeal is very important. But it must be done right. If they are taking this shortcut, what other shortcuts could they be taking?

Spray painted hedges is a red flag!

Be Super Vigilant With Your Inspection

Each time you visit a property you want to buy, put your inspector’s hat on. Test the electricity and water. Inspect the foundation. Look at the electrical box and see if it is properly labeled. Bring a marble and a needle to inspect the floors and sheetrock. Look at the ceilings to see if there is any new paint spots. Don’t forget to bring a notepad too.

A good disclosure package will highlight all the problems of the property. But it’s up to you to verify the problems are what they say they are, and not something worse. You should make it your mission to find even more problems to use them as leverage when negotiating.

After coming up with a detailed list that needs fixing, you’ve also got to come up with a detailed remodeling budget if you plan to redo the bathrooms, kitchen, and so forth.

My kitchen and a couple bathrooms hadn’t been remodeled in 25 years. My HVAC unit was 20 years old. Further, my roof had a couple of weak points which after 12 years needed some professional maintenance beyond me getting up there and spraying everywhere with a roof patch. I didn’t want to spend $100,000 – $300,000 updating the house, especially because it was a rental.

Although home prices should continue to do well over the long run, I’m happy I sold to reduce my homeownership headaches. The sale proceeds have all been re-invested in completely passive investments.

Good luck with your property purchase!

Related: Buy Utility, Rent Luxury: The Real Estate Investing Rule To Follow

Readers, what are some other warning signs homebuyers should be aware of before getting into contract? Any funny inspections stories to tell?

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[ronaldmrashid]

Warning Signs To Look Out For Before Buying A House

Physical real estate is my second favorite asset class to build wealth. Online real estate is my first. Unfortunately, owning physical real estate can be a royal pain due to never-ending maintenance issues. You can buy new construction and I guarantee you there will be problems that need addressing within several years.

After inspecting hundreds of houses and buying and selling multiple properties over the years, let me share with you some sneaky tricks sellers deploy to make a house look better than it really is as well as some warning signs to be aware of.

Warning Signs When Buying Property

Selling a property is stressful. Your goal as the seller is to make your property look as good as possible in as cost efficient manner as possible. Therefore, the cheapest and easiest things to do are paint, change light fixtures, clean, and redo the floors. As a buyer, you need to look beyond the cosmetics to see what’s really going on.

1) Exterior cracks and tilts. The inside can smell fresh from that wonderful floor varnish and paint, but the exterior could cost you a fortune if you don’t pay attention. Here’s an example of a Victorian house in San Francisco that was purchased for $1.45 million in March of 2017. It looks OK, right? But when the owner went to get a permit to remove some decayed siding and a rotted door, he found more serious foundation issues.

Below is what the house looks like now in 2018. What went from fixing up some siding ended up being a complete demolition of the entire structure! Why? Because very often when you start rehabbing a property, the deeper you dig, the more problems arise. Once you’re in there, you figure you might as well replace more and more stuff until you might decide to the entire structure.

If you didn’t initially budget to spend six figures destroying the house as a buyer, your financial situation will be seriously compromised. On the other hand, if you did have plans to sneak a demolition to save on permit fees to build a massive structure for a flip, then maybe you’ll be just fine.

Bring a leveler, preferably with a laser pointer. Make sure the cracks aren’t much more than 1/4 inch wide. If they are, you should get a structural engineer to inspect.

2) Ownership history. Just like when you see a resume with a new job every year, a home with high turnover is also a serious warning sign. I consider high turnover as any home with an average ownership length of three years or less per owner. For perspective, the average length of ownership for a home in America today is about nine years. You can easily check homeownership turnover online.

It’s really hard to truly know what it’s like to live in a home until after you’ve taken possession. My biggest fear about buying my old SF rental property was that it was on a busy street next to the busiest street in all of San Francisco. My then girlfriend and I camped out for hours during the day and evening before making the purchase.

Yet even then, once we took ownership, we discovered we had underestimated the constant honking, rattling manhole cover, and tremors from the traffic. I ended up spending $10,000 for sound deadening windows that were installed behind the original windows which I also replaced with dual panes for another $10,000.

3) Look for water damage concealed by paint. If you conceal water damaged areas with paint, you trap the moisture in the walls that will likely lead to mold. Black mold is unhealthy to breathe. Look carefully at the underside of drawers and sinks in the kitchen. Look at the base of the tubs and toilets. One of the biggest culprits is the sheetrock underneath window sills. If you see soft or warped sheetrock, you know there are leaks.

During my 10 years of ownership, twice I hired a handyman to cut out the sheetrock, replace with new sheetrock, mud, sand, and then paint. In preparation for my sale, I also did some of my own patching and sanding work as well. Nevertheless, I still had to disclose the leaks in my disclosure package so they couldn’t use the lack of information to back out.

4) Uneven or bouncy floors. Always bring a marble to an open house and place the marble around different areas of the floor of each room. The older the house, the more important it is to do the marble test to see how uneven the floors are. Sometimes a house will aggressively settle, creating a hump in the middle. Deflections are costly to fix because you’ve got to rip out the existing floor, correct the support columns, find a matching floor, and finish it to match the original flooring. And if there are very uneven floors, foundation work might also be needed.

5) Beware of room fresheners. Stinky people wear deodorant or perfume. Therefore, stinky houses are often sprayed or decorated with scented candles or potpourri. Your mission is to find out whether there is an insidious odor emanating somewhere in the house. It could be a leaky pipe, mold, sewage, etc.

6) Beware when music is playing in each room. The agent/seller is trying to mask the noisiness outside. I know, because this is exactly what I did when I had potential buyers come over. I turned on the central fan to create some white noise and played some music in the master bedroom. Insist that all music and AC be turned off so you can determine the noise level yourself.

7) Areas the seller won’t let you see. If a seller won’t allow access to the crawlspace or a room in the property until you are under contract, they probably have something to hide.

8) Sellers providing incentives to waive inspection objection rights. There is no reason to waive those rights unless there is something big to hide. Always have an inspection contingency because it is your leverage to get out of a deal or negotiate your price lower.

Water proofing a leaking light well before I sold with Flexall sealant

9) No permits for work done. You should always ask to see the Report of Residential Building Record aka 3R Report. The 3R report is like the report card for your property. If the seller says they added a new deck, the new deck should be in the 3R report. If it’s not, then there is a chance the deck was not built up to code, and may, therefore, be unsafe.

There are some things that really don’t need a permit, such as remodeling a bathroom or changing windows. You can easily tell whether the work has been done right or wrong. But for major structural and electrical work, a permit is very much preferred.

10) Spray painted hedges. Who the heck would spray paint their hedges? It looks so fake. Yet here I was, minding my own business on an afternoon stroll when I saw a realtor do just that. They also bought new grass for their once dead front lawn. Smart on the natural grass, but not so smart on the spray. Curb appeal is very important. But it must be done right. If they are taking this shortcut, what other shortcuts could they be taking?

Spray painted hedges is a red flag!

Be Super Vigilant With Your Inspection

Each time you visit a property you want to buy, put your inspector’s hat on. Test the electricity and water. Inspect the foundation. Look at the electrical box and see if it is properly labeled. Bring a marble and a needle to inspect the floors and sheetrock. Look at the ceilings to see if there is any new paint spots. Don’t forget to bring a notepad too.

A good disclosure package will highlight all the problems of the property. But it’s up to you to verify the problems are what they say they are, and not something worse. You should make it your mission to find even more problems to use them as leverage when negotiating.

After coming up with a detailed list that needs fixing, you’ve also got to come up with a detailed remodeling budget if you plan to redo the bathrooms, kitchen, and so forth.

My kitchen and a couple bathrooms hadn’t been remodeled in 25 years. My HVAC unit was 20 years old. Further, my roof had a couple of weak points which after 12 years needed some professional maintenance beyond me getting up there and spraying everywhere with a roof patch. I didn’t want to spend $100,000 – $300,000 updating the house, especially because it was a rental.

Although home prices should continue to do well over the long run, I’m happy I sold to reduce my homeownership headaches. The sale proceeds have all been re-invested in completely passive investments.

Good luck with your property purchase!

Related: Buy Utility, Rent Luxury: The Real Estate Investing Rule To Follow

Readers, what are some other warning signs homebuyers should be aware of before getting into contract? Any funny inspections stories to tell?

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