#now if you’ll excuse me I have to finish reading the Book of Bill because I was too busy touching grass yesterday with family to sit holed

[aria-greenhoodie]

Have some meme redraws of the radioactive old man yaoi ft. my Human Bill design again‼️

Click for Quality!

[archived-kin]

local cashless god nearly loses you your job (but you’re okay with it)

note from kin: *throws this at you* please take it i’ ve been stuck on the blasted thing for hours (peepaw i promise i’ll write you something where you’re better characterised another day)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, zhongli, xingqiu

pairing(s): zhongli/reader

warning(s): none! (though i do want to give a heads up for some out of character stuff since i started this when i still wasn’t too familiar with the liyue characters)

genre: fluff

“How many copies of Encyclopaedia of Liyue does one man need?”

You shush Xingqiu as the man just across the shop continues to browse at his leisure, golden eyes furrowed in concentration as he trails his gloved fingers across the books’ spines. “Maybe he’s here to buy something else this time! You never know.”

“He’s bought the exact same book seven times in a row now,” Your little brother insists, pulling his nose out of his novel for once to regard the tall figure drifting listlessly from one end of the shop to the other. “I doubt he’s going to break the cycle now.”

“He could be a collector,” You suggest, dropping your voice slightly when the man’s eyes flicker over to you briefly. “This shop’s older than us - maybe it has a bunch of different editions that he wants to get.”

“Well, wouldn’t it make sense for him to find all the different editions and then buy them all at once?” Xingqiu whispers in reply, tapping restlessly at the countertop with one hand. “Then he wouldn’t have to stop by every day and charm you into paying for him.”

You don’t have a reasonable argument for that, so you don’t reply. Xingqiu really is too smart for his own good sometimes.

The man - who you can see is now flicking curiously through a copy of The Founder of Diabolism - isn’t someone you know particularly well, but he’s visited the bookshop where you work enough times that you do know the essential facts: his name is Zhongli, he likes drinking tea, and he’s broke. In every sense of the word.

That last point is quite the source of exasperation on your part. No matter how many times you remind him as he leaves, he never fails to turn up with a completely empty Mora pouch the next time you see him. At first it hadn’t been so much of a problem - he’d just come in, browse the books, start a little small talk with you, then leave. But then he’d actually started wanting to buy the books, and buying usually involves money - something that Zhongli seems to forget exists.

If it had been any other ridiculously handsome guy, you might have sent them packing, but there’s something about the lost look on Zhongli’s face when you ask him for his payment and he realises that he has no way of giving you one that never fails to make you get out your own Mora pouch and suggest that you foot the bill for him instead. Zhongli always tries to refuse your offer, but, in kind, you always insist. You have no idea why he has such an affinity for that particular book, but the way he smiles at you as you as you drop your own coins into the payment pouch is more than enough to make up for the money you lose. It’s not like you actually need the funds, anyway, considering who your father is.

Today, however, Zhongli has neglected the shelf of encyclopaedias in favour of drifting over to the Xianxia section. You’re not sure what’s spurred this change in interest, but maybe it’s the little toy dragon you’ve set on top of the shelf? Zhongli seems rather enamoured by it - he keeps glancing up at it while he reads.

Speaking of the book that he’s skimmming through, it’s a rather odd choice on his behalf. You haven’t gotten the opportunity to read it yourself, busy as you usually are between your work shifts, adventurer’s guild commissions, and making sure your little brother doesn’t get himself into trouble by wandering directly into a gang of hilichurls in the middle of reading a book again. You’re pretty sure Xingqiu has read it at some point, though - to be honest, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already read every book in this shop several times over. (Part of you wonders if the only reason he’s so supportive of you venturing into the world and taking this job is because he gets to sit with you and read all the books he likes during your shifts.)

You don’t remember all the details he’d spewed off to you over the week or so he spent reading it, but you vaguely remember him crying into your sleeve about something to do with trees and lanterns and hugs. You’re also pretty sure that it got kind of… what’s the word? Risqué? Adult? Well, whatever word you use to describe it, it doesn’t really seem like the sort of thing that someone like Zhongli would read. Then again, you wouldn’t have ever expected your innocent gentleman of a little brother to read something like that, either.

“At least he seems to have good taste in fiction,” Xingqiu sighs as Zhongli continues to skim over the first few pages, looking rather intrigued. “I suppose that’s about as much as I can ask for…”

“He seems pretty invested,” You observe. “Reckon he’s going to buy it?”

Xingqiu shakes his head. “No. He’s going to come up here and realise he’s forgotten all his Mora again, and then you’re going to end up buying it for him again because you have a giant crush—”

You shove him in the shoulder so hard that he falls off his stool. “Oh, shut up.”

Xingqiu quickly catches himself on the side of the table and shoots you a glare, fumbling to retrieve the book that he’s accidentally dropped in the process. “Hey! This book doesn’t belong to us, you know.”

“It’s one book, A-Qiu,” You sigh as he turns away from you, clutching the book to his chest like it’s some precious child that you’re threatening to kidnap. “Mr Yao isn’t going to condemn you if it gets a little dusty.”

“Books should be treated with respect,” Xingqiu sniffs, turning up his nose at you like some nobleman - which he technically could be considered, now that you think about it. “You of all people should know that.”

“Just because I work at a bookshop doesn’t mean I think they’re Morax’s gift to man like you do,” You snort, noting in the corner of your eye that Zhongli’s eyes had flickered over to you briefly as you spoke. “Sure, books are neat, but they’re not holy.”

“‘Books are neat?’” Xingqiu repeats disbelievingly. “Of all the words to—”

“Excuse me.”

Both you and Xingqiu jump in startled surprise - neither of you had noticed Zhongli approach the front desk. You gather yourself quickly and smile at him as he quietly sets the book on top of the counter and pushes it towards you with a small nod.

“Will that be all?” You ask, reaching for one of the complimentary bamboo bookmarks that you’re obligated to give out with every purchase. You’re pretty sure that Zhongli has more than enough at this point, but you don’t want to risk getting into hot water with Mr Yao for not doing it.

Zhongli takes the bamboo bookmark with a small smile. “Yes, thank you.”

You nod and flick the book open to check the price label on the inside of the cover. “Alright, that’ll be… 5000 Mora, please.”

Xingqiu mutters something resignedly under his breath as Zhongli reaches into his pocket and fumbles about for a moment, clearly not particularly hopeful that the man has actually brought his money with him today. Your little brother, as usual, is perfectly correct in his intuition; after a second of slightly embarrassed silence, Zhongli pulls his hand out of his pocket with nothing in it.

“My apologies,” He sighs, bowing his head in shame. “I’ve forgotten my money pouch again.”

“I knew it,” Xingqiu whispers.

“A-Qiu, shut up,” You hiss back, then turn back to Zhongli, your smile back in place. “No worries, I’ll buy it for you.”

His brows pinch together slightly in the smallest of frowns. “No, no, you shouldn’t. You’ve already spent so much money on me…”

“It’s no big deal!” You assure him brightly, already reaching into your lapels to find your coin pouch. “You seemed to be really into it earlier, so it’d be a shame if you couldn’t keep it, right?”

Zhongli’s frown deepens. “Even so...”

“You could always pay back with something else,” Xingqiu chimes in, the exasperated look on his face replaced with a shit-eating grin that you know all too well. Before you can step in and shove him into the cabinet or something to shut him up, though, he continues, turning to you in a parody of innocence, “What do you say? Mr Zhongli clearly has some time on his hands…”

You narrow your eyes at him, not liking what he’s implying with that grin. “I’m still on shift, A-Qiu, I can’t just up and leave. Mr Yao would probably kill me.”

“You’ve been working shifts for two weeks straight,” He counters, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I can mind the shop for a long enough for you to take a walk. He won’t notice a thing.”

“You won’t ‘mind the shop’, you’ll just sit there and read,” You shake your head and tussle his hair with a flippant hand. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you eyeing up those antiques at the back.”

He looks affronted. “Are you accusing me of stealing intent?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” You explain patiently. “I’m just saying that your moral compass is very easily diverted when it comes to books.”

“If I may,” Zhongli begins, cutting off Xingqiu’s indignant spluttering. “I do not mind the idea.”

You turn to look at him in shock, only to see that his golden eyes are already fixed intently on you. He has the sort of gaze that makes you feel as if he’s seeing right through you, as if all of your faults and flaws and wishes and dreams are laid out bare for him to examine at his leisure - but Zhongli doesn’t look at you with any judgement. In fact, if you hope hard enough, you think that there might be some affection in his eyes.

“W-well, I—” You glance quickly back at Xingqiu, who pointedly refuses to help you, evidently offended by the moral compass comment. “I- I’d love to, honestly, but I need to finish my shift…”

“This young gentleman has already volunteered to take care of that for you,” Zhongli counters. There’s a strange intensity to the way he’s looking at you now - hope? Determination? “I know of a quiet spot just outside the harbour. If you would…?”

You glance at Xingqiu, who, despite still looking a little miffed, gives you a begrudging nod. After another moment of thought, you turn back to Zhongli, who gazes expectantly back at you.

“I’d love to go for a walk,” You say, standing up. “Lead the way.”

He smiles then, holding the door-curtain open for you to exit first. You pause briefly to wave a goodbye to Xingqiu, who pointedly sticks his nose in his book and pretends not to see it.

The two of you walk in silence for ten minutes or so, with him in the lead and you occasionally glancing behind you to make sure Xingqiu hasn’t already set the bookshop on fire or something. Zhongli walks rather more quickly than you’re used to, mostly because you usually walk with Xingqiu, who has refused to grow more than half an inch in the last three years and still has legs substantially shorter than yours. Zhongli seems to notice you lagging behind a little after a minute or so, slowing down his pace slightly so that the two of you can walk side by side properly.

“The breeze is pleasant this time of year,” Zhongli comments as the two of you cross the bridge to the mainland and begin to leave the harbour. “Particularly as the sun is going down.”

“I’ll have to get out to see the sunset more often, then,” You sigh. The amount of people milling about around you thins out the further the two of you walk from the harbour and along a grass-lined path, until the two of you are alone.

“I’d be happy to escort you,” He says, glancing quickly back at you, then snapping his head forward again. “...that is, if you’d like me to.”

You’re glad he isn’t looking at you, because you’re pretty sure that the look on your face is smitten to an absolutely ridiculous degree. It takes everything in you not to reach forward and grab Zhongli’s hand right then and there, but you restrain yourself just in time, knowing full well that initiating sudden physical contact with someone that you still don’t know all too well is incredibly rude.

“Of course I would,” You answer. “Just name a time and a place.”

He looks at you again, a gentle smile curving at his lips. “I’ll be sure to.”

The walk takes the two of you through a grove of trees dappled by the rich afternoon light. Zhongli speaks at length about the various different species that you pass; part of you is listening attentively, but the other part of you is far too distracted by the elegance of his quiet footsteps and the way the sunlight glows softly at the edges of his hair to register the information.

Leaves and branches crunch underfoot as Zhongli finally leads you out of the trees and out onto a quiet spot on the mountainside overlooking the harbour. He sits down on the ledge, legs dangling precariously over the edge, and you follow suit, quietly settling down beside him, leaving about two inches’ space between the two of you. Zhongli doesn’t say anything for a minute or so; he’s absorbed in watching the city below him, golden eyes darting back and forth as he watches the tiny figures of the people bustle about the streets.

You notice that he’s still holding the book you bought him earlier, keeping it set carefully in his lap with both hands placed firmly on top of it, as if he thinks it might slip out of his grasp and off the mountain if he isn’t careful.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” You begin, catching his attention. He turns to look at you, and the sudden sight of his content expression, framed by the sprawling fields and trees in the distance behind him and the light casting his features into sharp relief, knocks all the air from your lungs for a moment. You very nearly choke on your words, but manage to gather yourself in time to ask, “Why the sudden change in interest?”

He cocks his head ever so lightly to the side in confusion, then realises what you’re referring. “Ah - the book? I just wanted a change of pace, really.”

You nod in understanding. “I see. A-Qiu’s read that one. He says it’s one of his favourites.”

“Is A-Qiu the young gentleman accompanying you in the bookshop?”

“Yup.” You sigh, leaning back and kicking your legs slightly, noticing with some fascination that you can faintly see yourself reflected on the water far beneath you. “Xingqiu. He’s my little brother.”

If you squint hard enough, you can see Zhongli’s reflection in the water as well. He’s shifting slightly - is he moving closer to you? You can’t quite tell from the reflection alone, and you’re not about to risk looking at him. Zhongli is a little like the sun in that respect: warming you indirectly with his presence, but damn near blinding (and incredibly flustering) to look directly at or make eye contact with. He’s almost ethereal-looking - as if he isn’t quite of this world.

“He seems a well-intentioned boy,” Zhongli comments quietly.

You respond with a light-hearted scoff. “I’m not too sure about that. He’s good at hiding it behind a book and all those airs and graces, but he’s always annoying me.”

“Is that not what younger siblings are for?” He counters, eyes twinkling slightly as you laugh in reply.

“I guess they are, huh?” You shake your head, a grin continuing to play on your lips as you finally turn to look back at him. Somehow the blinding beauty of before feels as if it’s mellowed out, become softer around the edges - like a surging river calming to a trickling stream.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while. The late afternoon breeze picks up a little, and Zhongli’s hair dances about on the air, twisting and curling in swirls as if the very wind is playing with it. You’re so occupied by (subtly) staring at him that the small movement of him lifting a hand to adjust his tie makes you jolt slightly on the spot.

You can tell that he’s noticed as well, so you hurry to start a conversation before he can bring it up. “So… what’s the fascination with Yi Xichen?”

“...ah.” You might be imagining it, but you think you can see a faint flush forming over his cheeks. “The encyclopaedias?”

“What else?” You swing your legs back and forth restlessly, leaning forward and resting your cheek in your hand. “You must have at least fifteen copies by now. Are you collecting them or something?”

“Well, no...” He glances away from you, intertwining his fingers. “I suppose I’m not particularly good at ‘acting natural’, am I?”

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Zhongli fiddles slightly with the seam of his glove, looking uncharacteristically bashful. “I have no need for encyclopaedias, but after the first few days, I found that I had fallen into the routine of selecting one every time I visited.”

“Why did you visit, then?” You ask.

He glances quickly at you, then back down at the water. He doesn’t answer at first, as if mulling over what to say, until finally, he replies, “...I suppose I just wanted to see you.”

It takes you a good moment to fully process what he’s just said to you. Once you do, though, your entire body implode. Well, it feels it does, anyway.

“I— you— me— huh?” is all you manage to get out at first, hands dancing around in front of you like two birds trying to escape from a net, as if they’re trying to physically pluck some words to say from the air. It’s a bad habit you’ve always had, throwing your hands about when you’re stressed; it drives you mad sometimes, but you can’t stop yourself.

Zhongli closes his eyes and bows his head, and there’s no mistaking it - his cheeks are definitely pinker than usual. “Is that alright?”

You nearly choke on air, but you force yourself to take a deep breath instead, fanning yourself briefly with one hand. Getting flustered heats you up surprisingly quickly. “Y-yeah! Of course it’s okay.”

“I’m glad.” He smiles a little bashfully, leaning forward and tilting his head slightly to look at you. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, but, if it’s alright… could I see you more often after today as well?

The sheer adrenaline rushing through you is so intense that you’re surprised that you haven’t busted a blood vessel yet. Actually, as far as you know, you might as well have - you’re far too focused on the man in front of you and his… confession? Is this a confession? You’ve read romance novels, sure, but is that how it works in real life as well? What are you supposed to do?

Your head is so filled with pure chaos that you just know that, if you speak, you’re going to say something completely inane and stupid. So, instead, you reach forward, and take his hand in your slightly shaky one.

He looks down at your intertwined fingers with mild surprise for a moment, then raises his gaze to you once more, eyes lighting up slightly. “...I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

You nod quietly, hesitantly shuffling closer to him. He squeezes your hand almost experimentally, then glances quickly back up at you as if trying to gauge your reaction. You offer him a smile; he returns it wholeheartedly.

You’re sure that you’ll have missed the rest of your shift by now, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care. Zhongli doesn’t let go of your hand, and you in turn do not move away from him - if anything, you move closer, leaning slightly into his side. He doesn’t seem to notice, and if he does, he doesn’t object.

The sun is slowly beginning its descent, staining the sky a pale orange that reflects from the waters below you. It seems that the two of you will be seeing that sunset together a lot sooner than you had anticipated.

[teacupfulofstarshine]

LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP CHAPTER 10

PLEASE HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS!!! this chapter features Evil Scientist Lady and her Fucked Up WorldView a LOT, and there are also some Major Plot Events that involve Violence. i will put a summary in the end notes if you decide at any point that this particular chapter is too much - that's super valid! i will also mention here that no main characters are going to die in this story and no one dies in this chapter either.

huge huge thanks to @flamingfawkes for beta’ing!

CW: extreme disregard for human life, mentioned human and animal cruelty, toxic workplace environment, violence (both imagined and actual, mildly graphic), gun mention, minor blood, death threats, extremely unethical character, unethical science, stalking

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 // chapter 8 // chapter 9 // read it on ao3!

“This is the same result we’ve gotten the last twenty times -”

“I don’t care, Steven, run it again!”

Steven sighs, punching at the keyboard to run the statistical analysis sequence again. “This is ridiculous! I’ve run this sequence so many times it feels like my eyes are going to bleed. Why can’t we just turn in the results we have and -”

“Because she’ll behead us,” James snaps, “and then she’ll destroy our reputations and our families and they’ll get no severance. I have three young children at home, Steven, I need this money.” Steven softens a little, fingers running smoothly over the keys as he combs the data again. Next to him, James has a computer screen full of frame-by-frame stills of what little data they recovered from the probe before it was destroyed; Penny across the room is surrounded by ancient texts a mile high and at least three laptops.

“Why is she so interested in this, anyway?”

“It’s beyond me. Since when do we question the whims of what we’re told to do?”

Steven squints at the screen, pushing his chair back and rubbing at his eyes. “If I have to stare at these numbers for one more second, my brain is going to explode. I feel like my eyeballs are going to melt out of my skull. I wanna scream.”

James pulls up another image, staring at the blurry image of the merman before him. Steven pushes away from his own screen and squints at James’s. The merman in the photo looks young, not much older than his kid brother, but they don’t know anything about the lifespan of these creatures. He looks confused, squinting at the camera. As James flicks through the stills, the merman transitions from confused to angry to enraged, and then he attacks.

“He’s not happy about the camera.”

“Would you be happy about someone spying on you and your family?” James says, switching to the next still.

“I wouldn’t be happy if I thought someone was doing anything we do in this lab to me or my family.” James elbows Steven, but luckily no one else seems to have heard.

“This lab isn’t the most ethical place I’ve ever worked, but it pays the bills,” James mutters. “And we’re not even in the experimentation lab. We just do data analysis. We’re removed from the situation.”

Are we? Steven wonders. He sees James reach out and touch the framed picture of his daughters, and keeps his mouth shut. He turns back to his computer, watching the little spinning color wheel of his mouse as the program calculates the same numbers again and again. The results come up identical to the previous ones, and Steven clicks “Run Program” again wordlessly.

They work in silence for a while, the three of them, broken only by James’s muttering and the occasional thud of one of Penny’s books and the clicks of keyboards and mice. If they weren’t so reliant on technology, Steven thinks, there would be an enormous corkboard spanning three of the four walls, covered in pushpins and handwriting and red string connecting images. He debates actually building one, if only to increase the levity in the room, but decides against it.

He’s seen people punished or fired or who-knows-what-else for far less, after all.

Instead, after his program tells him for the twenty-third time that his results are the same (and didn’t someone say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?), Steven scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms and opens the data entry window. Maybe the problem with the results has to do with the entry of the data; did he input something wrong? It’s possible . . .

Here he goes again, he supposes. He stands up, stretches, and leans back to crack some vertebrae. “I’m gonna grab a coffee, take a short screen break, and go back to the beginning. Maybe there’s something in the input that I missed. You want anything?”

James groans, thunking his head against the desk. “I want something with enough caffeine to kill three elephants, please.” Steven nods, looking over at Penny. She shakes her head, and he heads for the shitty coffee machine a few doors down.

Several floors below, a young woman pulls her lab goggles up to rest on top of her head with her perfectly-pinned protocol-compliant bun. “The latest round of tests is completely done, ma’am. I think you’ll find the efficacy . . . striking.”

She takes the clipboard, glossy perfectly-painted nails pinching the sheets of thin paper and flicking between them. “I’m afraid I don’t do so well with the scientific side of things - Kathleen, was it? Explain this to me, would you?”

“Certainly, ma’am. As you know, the kill time for the most effective neurotoxin currently available, tetrodotoxin, varies from thirty minutes to four hours. Average time for symptoms to manifest is seventeen minutes, and from there the symptoms progress through tingling of the lips and tongue, headache, vomiting, muscle weakness, ataxia, et cetera. Death occurs as a result of respiratory or heart failure, and the poison is nearly undetectable if you do not specifically test for it.”

“The untraceability is a plus, but that is far too wide a range of times, and too slow a time even at its fastest.”

“Of course, ma’am, but as far as naturally-occurring marine poisons go - actually, as far as naturally-occurring poisons go, full stop - it is the most effective. Until now, that is.”

“Oh? What are your findings?”

“Which trials would you like to start with, ma’am?”

“The human trials, Kathleen. The only ones that matter. I hardly intend to go around killing mice and hoping that no one traces their deaths to a novel neurotoxin.” She laughs airily, and Kathleen nods along.

“Certainly, ma’am. The most recent data points indicate an average efficacy time of thirteen minutes for our compound neurotoxin, with a full range between nine and seventeen minutes passing before subject death. Subjects began to show symptoms around five minutes, give or take twenty-five seconds.”

“And those symptoms were?”

Kathleen flips through the document. “Seizures, vital organ failure, blindness, painful muscle spasms, suffocation from the inside out.”

She hums, tapping a manicured finger against the report. “Well, Kathleen, that is certainly impressive, especially for a preliminary human subject trial. These results . . . I must say, they are not nearly as disappointing as I anticipated when I came down here.”

“Ma’am?”

“How long have you worked for this company, Kathleen?”

“Almost five years, ma’am, but I’ve always been an assistant. This is my first time as lead researcher and biochemist on a project, ever since you . . . laid off the previous lead researcher.”

“Kathleen, let me be frank. These results are not what I hoped for. The efficacy time and symptom onset times are both far too long for my liking, and the range of efficacy time is too broad. By all accounts, I should consider this a failure.” Kathleen swallows, but remains poised. “However, you’ve managed to shave off a considerable amount of time from the tetrodotoxin readings. The range of symptom onset time is an acceptable breadth, and your results are far beyond anything your predecessor ever accomplished for me. This is truly impressive, all things considered.”

“Thank you, ma’am. How should I proceed?”

“I want the efficacy doubled - tripled - I want it upped by anywhere between four and five hundred percent. I want the pain increased, too. Feel free to increase your requests for test subjects, but get me the results I want. You said the original tetrodotoxin was untraceable?”

“That’s correct, ma’am.”

“Can you keep that feature intact?”

“As of right now, it is intact, ma’am. I will endeavor to keep it so in future experiments.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Welcome to your new position as head of this research division. Don’t let me down.” She holds out a slender hand, and Kathleen takes it, trying not to seem too eager.

“I won’t, ma’am.”

“How soon can you start this experiment up again?”

“The cleaners should be finished by tomorrow morning, ma’am, and I can tweak chemical formulas until then.”

“Excellent.” Her watch beeps, and she lifts it, pursing her bright lips as she examines the message she’s just received. “If you’ll excuse me, I have another matter to attend to. Someone will drop off your master access key for Lab Three within the hour.”

She steps into the elevator and lifts her watch up to her face, swiping through the messages from her secretary. One finger reaches out to press the button for the digital analysis labs floor, and the other taps away at her watch.

When she steps off the elevator, her secretary is waiting. “Ma’am.”

“What do they have for me?”

“Unclear. They said it was something they wanted to report directly to you and you alone, but it seems to be something big.”

“Hopefully it’s a big step in the right direction, or they’ll be taking a big step out of a job.” She relishes in the way the employees she passes all unfailingly flinch and then snap to perfect attention when they hear the sharp echo of her heels against the floor. She lifts her head and walks faster, striking the tiles with her heels like a gavel, sharp and precise against a judge’s desk.

The computer labs are disorganized when she enters, but there is a string of promising-looking numbers on the main display monitor. There is a woman surrounded by books and a man pulling up photos on his computer, and there is a third man standing in front of her like a toy soldier. She focuses on that one.

“I hear you have news for me? Make it swift, and make it good.”

He swallows, hard, and her eyes idly trace the line of his throat. If he disappoints her, perhaps she will drive her heel through it, to make an example of him. That would be far too messy; perhaps his dominant hand will do.

“I have narrowed down the location of the missing net, ma’am. I believe it to have washed up somewhere around these general GPS coordinates.” He fiddles with a remote in his hand, and the image on the screen changes. It shows an aerial satellite view of a secluded strip of beach, framed by rocky cliffs with larger rocks studded out into the open water. “It should have washed up somewhere in this one-point-three-seven-mile strip of beach. The whole area is property of one Doctor Thomas Sanders.”

She snarls. “That man. He won’t let us on that beach willingly until hell freezes over.”

The other man, the one scanning through photo stills and video footage, jumps up, knocking his chair backwards. “I found something!”

She turns towards him, and his excitement freezes and sputters into something much more controlled and terrified. “Show me.” He clicks something and pulls up video footage from one of their surveillance drones, zooming in on a particular patch of ocean along the stretch of Sanders’ beach. Her eyes widen when she sees what he’d noticed - a hump of red-and-white tail arcing above the waves before a pattern of ripples streaks off towards the cliff. He pauses the footage, rewinds it, uses a laser pointer to show an opening concealed in the cliff face.

“There’s some kind of grotto in there, hidden by the cliff. It’s on Sanders’ property, he has to know it’s there. And it looks like the merman from the destroyed drone knows it’s there too. Which means -”

“That must be where he’s keeping them.” Something burns in her chest, brilliant and terrifying and all-encapsulating, like wildfire. “We’ve found them, at long last.”

“What would you have me do?” her secretary asks. “I can arrange for a recovery squad at your earliest possible convenience, ma’am.”

“Assemble the squad, but do not have them move out. They will wait for my orders. When they go, you are to go with them.” Her secretary nods, once, sharp and sure. “Dispatch a crew to Lab One and clear it out. I want it prepped for containment, vivisection, chemical tests - the works. Get at least three tanks set up and one strap-down human table.”

“A human table, ma’am?”

“Yes. We have to deal with Sanders once and for all to ensure that he does not ruin any future experiments.”

“Will we be taking him as well?”

She hums thoughtfully. “No. Pull up the file we have on his known associate?”

A few swift clicks and flicks and a photo appears on the large screen: a young man with brown-and-purple hair, sleeves rolled up, carefully lowering a perfectly viable specimen into the ocean and letting it go, like some kind of fool. “His doctoral student, ma’am. The longest one he’s ever kept - this one has been with him a few years.”

“Excellent. When you raid the lab, take him.”

“Should we kill Sanders?”

“No. Rough him up a little, but leave him alive. Taking his protégé and leaving him alone, helpless to rescue him, will be the highest form of torture for such an insufferable person. The agony will eat him alive until his dying day.”

Her secretary nods, taking the notes down dutifully. The other employees look vaguely horrified, but she pays them no mind. No sacrifice is too great to be made in the name of progress, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a weakling who will never get anywhere in life.

She refuses to be one of those weaklings.

*~*~*~*~*

Logan wakes up confused.

He’s warm, warmer than he thinks he’s ever been in his whole life. When he stirs, he moves farther than he meant to - he must not be underwater. That’s enough to send a jolt of concern through his sleep-addled brain. Why isn’t he underwater? Why was he sleeping if he was above the surface? There’s no way his dad is here, and Roman hates surfacing, where are they? Where is he? But he’s so comfortable . . .

Someone shifts beside him, an arm draping across his waist, and Logan forces his eyes open. He shifts his lower half, confused when two things move instead of one, and there are layers upon layers of thin, flat, soft things wrapping around him. What is happening?

Slowly, slowly, his mind clears, and he remembers the events of last night. He grew legs - he was a human, once, before he was mer - he couldn’t sleep underwater with Dad and Roman - Virgil was teaching him to walk - Virgil put “clothes” on him - Virgil was embarrassed that he didn’t have those “clothes” on him - Virgil took him out of the lab to sleep - Virgil agreed to cuddle him since his pod couldn’t -

Logan feels the strange burning in his face again as he shifts. He can’t see well in this new human form, but when things are close enough to his face they’re relatively clear. And Virgil, still sleeping, is close enough that Logan can smell him - he smells like salt water mixed with something sharp and something sweet and something else that Logan can’t quite identify but finds addicting nonetheless. Sunlight streams in and pools around Virgil’s face, illuminating the tangled mess of hair spread around him and flopping into his face, the small puddle of water leaking out from his open mouth onto the soft thing he’s resting his head on, the way his chest moves slowly with every breath. His arm is wrapped around Logan, pulling him close. Logan thinks he might explode if he focuses on this any more, so he rolls from his side to his back as carefully as he can, not wanting to wake Virgil. Virgil tightens his arm around Logan and mutters something indecipherable in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake.

Rather than focusing on his very confusing feelings for the very pretty man next to him, Logan focuses on what he can see of the room around him. He makes a list in his mind of things that he plans to ask Virgil about later today, including:

1: There are many draws attached to the small, smooth cliffs surrounding them. How do they stay there?

2: There are lots of “clothes” scattered all around the floor, and there were several on the bed, too. Is that normal for humans?

3: Last night, Virgil did something that made the room light up with trapped sunlight! How did he do that?

4: How did Virgil get ice to stay in those big frozen sheets in such a warm place to let the sunlight in?

5: How did Virgil make ice into that weird shape that he filled with water and drank last night?

6: How did Virgil get the water to come into this place?

7: Do all humans have a specific area set aside for sleeping? Logan and his pod usually just sleep wherever they can, but Virgil seems to have this soft slab set aside with all of these soft things to be comfortable and sleep in every night. Is this a Human Thing or strictly a Virgil Thing?

Logan looks out through the sheet of ice that protects Virgil’s area from the outside and gasps. He can’t see well, but there’s a glittering expanse of blue that shifts and moves and oh, is that the ocean?

He’s spent his whole life (well, his whole remembered life, anyways) in the ocean, and he’s seen some truly wondrous things. He travels around the world with his pod, he knows the ocean is big, but seeing it spread out like this is . . . awe-inspiring. Logan has never seen the ocean like this, and now that he has he doesn’t think he can ever not see it like this again. It’s like a perfect sheet of sea-glass, rippling and unbroken but dynamic in a way that he never really gets a sense of when he’s beneath it.

He knows that there are waves, of course. There are smaller swells out on the open ocean, and larger ones when the Second Goddess dips her fingers down from the Upper Ocean and swirls the storms to a thundering burst. There are waves along the shoreline, ones that he frolics in with Roman and batter him against the shoreline. There are waves created when he or his pod members surface. But watching the movement of the ocean from up here is . . .

Even with his imperfect vision, he is completely at a loss for words as he stares at the ocean.

Eventually, Virgil stirs next to him, and Logan turns away from the ocean to stare at him. Virgil is close to him, arms wrapped tightly around him, face pressed against him. Logan’s eyesight is not great, but Virgil is close enough that he can pick out little details of his face. There are brown face scales scattered all over him, but they seem to cluster on his nose and his cheeks. Logan has wanted to touch them for a substantial amount of time, and he can’t stop himself from gently settling the tips of his fingers over Virgil’s cheek.

His face doesn’t feel like Logan was expecting. The scales don’t give texture to his face the way that Logan’s do; the skin is smooth and flat. There are little bumps all over, but the brown scales aren’t raised off the skin like Logan expected. He lets his fingers trail along Virgil’s face. His bone structure seems to be exceedingly similar to Logan’s, at least in regards to his head. Logan’s finger rests gently on the curve of bone under Virgil’s eye, and Virgil exhales warm breath onto his palm.

Logan wonders what it would be like to have this for longer than just his recovery period. He wonders what it would be like to wake up next to Virgil all the time, to get to run his hands over Virgil’s face and arms and chest and examine the differences between their anatomy. He wonders what it would be like to learn to walk without falling over, and he feels a sharp, unexpected twinge in his chest as he realizes that getting better at walking means no more closeness to Virgil.

His chest feels strange, like there’s a school of small fish swarming around and tickling his insides and making him feel all foamy, like the froth churned up by a windswept sea. He feels like he does when he’s underwater - free, weightless, mobile, limited by nothing except his own imagination. He feels unstoppable.

Virgil makes a sudden, sharp inhale, blinking his eyes open slowly. Logan thinks that, perhaps, he might not appreciate being studied unknowingly - he hadn’t appreciated Virgil doing it, before he understood what was happening, when all he knew was the loss of his pod aching like a scraped-out seashell. As Virgil wakes up, Logan shifts, turning his gaze to the rest of the room.

Virgil makes a sleepy grumbling noise, opening one eye. Logan chances another quick glance at him, and when his eye slides open Logan is struck by its beauty. He doesn’t get much of a chance to admire it, however, before Virgil is jolting backwards like Logan’s struck him with lightning. Logan is confused, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder. “Virgil?”

“Wassat?! Wait . . . L’gan?”

“It is me,” Logan says softly. “Are - are you upset with me?”

Virgil yawns, jaw dropping to his chest, revealing a flash of teeth and a soft pink tongue. (Logan wants to lick it. Why does Logan want to lick it? Why is Logan thinking about Virgil’s tongue licking his tongue - why is Logan thinking about Virgil - what in the Seven Oceans is happening to him.) “Wh - no, no, ‘m okay, I just - woke up, forgot I had you with me, got confused about another person in my bed.” Before Logan can start to feel bad, Virgil adds, “S’okay if it’s you, though,” and the foamy, floaty feeling is back.

“Did you sleep well?”

Virgil laughs, low and rumbling, and Logan can feel it in his fingers where he touches Virgil’s skin. “I never sleep well.” He sits up, and the fabric of his pajamas shifts to let Logan see stretches of soft, supple skin that he usually doesn’t. Logan wants to touch it. He very determinedly keeps his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Gotta admit, though, last night was . . . better than usual.”

This appears to be the point where Virgil first notices their position - pressed together, arm slung over Logan, basically cuddling the way that Logan normally would with his pod. (No tangle with his pod has ever felt this . . . electric, this charged, this important to Logan before.) His face flares a brilliant red, and he shifts like he wants to move away but -

“I’m sorry,” Virgil says. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Logan blurts out. Virgil blinks at him a little, and maybe he was a little overly enthusiastic, but - “I sleep in a tangle with Dad and Roman all the time. I have extreme difficulty sleeping without contact with someone else. It . . . helped me greatly.”

“Oh,” Virgil says, face turning redder still, smiling shyly. “That - makes me feel better. Thanks, Lo.”

Logan smiles, and Virgil smiles too, reaching up to gently move a piece of hair away from his face. Logan thinks that, as far as deaths go, his chest exploding (which seems to be getting more and more likely every fifteen seconds he spends in Virgil’s presence, only accelerated by all this skin-on-skin contact they’re having right now) seems to be the most pleasurable.

Virgil opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it was is interrupted by a Ping! noise from across the room. “What is that?” Logan asks. Virgil, sadly, untangles himself from Logan and the blankets, sliding out of bed and heading over to one of the other structures in the room (what did he call it last night? Dex?) and picking up a flat glowing rectangle.

“Is everything alright?”

“What? Yeah, yeah, I - Thomas sent me a text, it’s a little weird.”

“What is a text?”

“It’s a kind of human messaging system, it allows us to communicate when we’re far away from each other.”

“Like a pod call?” “Kind of? I’ll explain more later, I promise, I just - I gotta go down to the lab real quick.”

“I’ll come with -”

“No!” Virgil snaps. Logan flinches, and Virgil softens, crossing the room and gently touching his shoulder. “Hey, no, Logan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just - this message, there’s something off. I think something might be wrong, and I don’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger. Just - wait here, okay? Wait in my room, where it’s safe. It’s probably nothing, he’s probably fine, but on the off chance that he’s not, I want you to stay hidden safely up here.”

Logan isn’t sure why this makes his face heat up slightly, but it does. “Okay. I accept your apology, and I . . . trust you.”

Virgil smiles, soft and heartwarming, and Logan is beginning to give more credence to his “chest explosion is fine, actually” theory. “Wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back. I promise.”

He leaves, shutting the door firmly behind him, and the foamy feeling in Logan’s chest dissipates a little. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s something . . . off. If Logan didn’t know better, he’d think that he was sensing a predator approaching.

But that can’t be right, he isn’t underwater. His danger senses are likely just overreacting to his disappointment at Virgil’s absence.

. . . Right?

*~*~*~*~*

Thomas is beginning to regret letting Roman and Patton (specifically, Roman) out of the large tank before finishing his first coffee of the morning.

“I want some!” Roman complains.

“Do you even know what it is?” Thomas says. Roman pouts sulkily at him.

“. . . No,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. Thomas gives him the deadpan, no-nonsense, I-am-your-direct-superior-take-the-damn-samples-Virgil stare that he has perfected over the past few years. Roman wilts a little more, and Thomas feels slightly bad.

“It’s called coffee,” he says. “It’s a hot drink that lots of people have in the morning. Some people drink it plain, and some people add things to it to change the way it tastes. It helps me wake up more and get focused to start my day, and sometimes I drink it late at night to help keep me awake.”

Roman looks less like a kicked puppy and more like Logan, eyes wide and curious. “I want some!”

Thomas, taking a sip of his own two-seconds-of-cream-five-cubes-of-sugar coffee, nearly spits it out. He looks at Roman, eyes the very sharp, very detachable, very toxic spines covering his body, and says, “No.”

Roman’s demeanor changes entirely, switching from “curious toddler” to “toddler about to throw a temper tantrum” in a heartbeat. “Why not?!”

“Because when people drink coffee without being used to it, sometimes it makes them a little crazy.”

“I’m not crazy!”

“Do I need to recount to you how many times you’ve threatened me and my assistant since we met you?” Thomas says, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not giving you coffee until I know I can trust you not to stab me with your poisonous spines that cover your entire body and can be fired at people.”

Roman pouts more, dropping under the water and letting out a gratingly harmonious string of mer that Thomas is pretty sure translates to Roman bitching about the coffee situation to his dad. Based on the pattern of Patton’s response, he’s pretty sure Patton is laughing at Roman.

More sulky chalkboard-violin music, and then Roman resurfaces grumpily. “Dad agrees with you and says no consuming strange human foods.”

“Did he laugh at you?”

Roman squints suspiciously at him. “You can’t speak our language.”

“Yeah, but I know what it sounds like when a dad laughs at his kid.” Roman, continuing to pout, sinks back into the tank, presumably to sulk some more. Thomas takes another very long sip of coffee that is definitely too hot for his mouth and turns back to his desk.

Virgil should definitely be awake and in the lab at this point. The samples he’s supposed to be analyzing are sitting in their little tubes, each neatly labelled with locations and dates and times and what, specifically, Virgil is supposed to be looking for. Thomas considers going upstairs and waking up Virgil, who’s almost never been late for work in this way, but he decides against it. Virgil is upstairs with Logan, and Thomas knows that there’s something building between them. He’s not sure how advisable that something is, but he trusts Virgil to make his own decisions.

Besides, he could probably use some practice. His water sample analysis skills are pretty rusty, he’s had Virgil doing them for years. “Virgil, you owe me big time for what I’m doing for you.” He carefully shifts the samples over to his own desk, slides his earbuds in, picks up a pipette, and gets to work analyzing the bacterial and algal concentrations for any abnormalities.

Thomas accomplishes about forty-five minutes’ worth of work before Roman interrupts him by flicking water at him and soaking the back of his neck. “Hey!”

“I tried your name, but your little ear bug things were keeping you from hearing me,” Roman says smugly. Thomas, not for the first time, considers retreating to the closet and throwing beakers until he feels better.

“Can I help you?”

“Dad wants to go hunting and bring back breakfast, but we can’t leave without you.”

“Are you not going hunting?”

“I’m going to stay here and observe you,” Roman says.

Thomas blinks. “Do I . . . need observing?”

“How do I know you won’t sell us out to your little human friends the second you get a chance? If I’m here, I can stop you. Plus, what if you do something to Logan while we’re not here to protect him? No, no, I’m staying right where I am and you can’t make me leave.” His spines ripple; Thomas steps closer to a whiteboard in case he needs to duck.

“I’m not going to do that, and I don’t want you to stab me.”

“Still! I’m staying here! Also, Dad’s bigger than me, and he’s a better hunter cause he’s faster and he’s been hunting longer.

“Does he need something to help him carry all those fish?” Thomas asks. Roman opens his mouth like he’s going to say something snarky, pauses, and stops.

“I . . . usually we just eat what we catch when we catch it. We make a pile of prey and take turns guarding it while the other two hunt. Then we make a sacrifice to the Seven Mother Goddesses and eat what’s left.”

After some debate, Thomas is able to fashion a sling of sorts from some waterproof tarps and leftover anchor rope to tie around Patton’s body. “You can put the fish in this pouch and carry them back here. Will you be able to navigate your way back to the grotto?”

“He will,” Roman says. “Dad knows more about the ocean than any human possibly could.” Another discordant song from the tank, chastising, and Roman huffs. “Dad wants me to reassure you that he’ll be fine.”

Patton settles into the mobile tank easily, and Thomas gets him down to the grotto leading towards the sea. “When you come back, let out one of your pod calls and Virgil or I will come and collect you and your catch. Take as much time as you need, okay?”

Patton reaches up and gently pats Thomas’s arm with one large, damp hand, and Thomas takes that to mean an agreement. “Alright, off you go.” There’s a whoosh and a rush of water as it flows from the tank into the grotto in a clean arc, carrying Patton with it. Thomas waits for a moment, letting Patton disappear into the open ocean, before returning to the laboratory.

Roman, for the most part, ignores Thomas. He asks the occasional question, which Thomas tries to answer in a way that he’ll understand, and leans over the edge of his touch tank, eyes guarded. Every time Thomas sneaks a glance, when he thinks Roman isn’t looking, his expression is wide-eyed and wondrous, like Logan’s usually are, but the moment he realizes Thomas is watching him his entire face closes up like a clamshell.

Thomas wonders what it’ll take to get Roman to trust him, trust Virgil, trust any human. Granted, he doesn’t know Roman’s history with humans, but he and Patton are both fairly scarred, and Thomas might not know the whole story but he’d bet a not-insignificant amount of his monthly income that the giant starburst scar taking up the majority of Patton’s chest isn’t the result of a clash with a marine creature.

He works quietly, fielding the occasional question, keeping one ear on the grotto tunnel for Patton’s return. He’s not sure how long he expected Patton to be gone, but he hears movement in the grotto tunnel far sooner than he’d expected.

“Thomas, what’s -”

“Shhhh,” Thomas says. He stands up, pushing away from his desk, but before he can say anything else, there’s a flood of movement coming from the tunnel. Bodies pour into the lab, swift and strong and carrying weapons that they immediately train on Thomas and Roman.

“What is this?” Roman snaps, bristling. He sounds betrayed, like he thinks Thomas is behind this. Thomas picks up a heavy glass beaker, fully prepared to shatter it upside someone’s skull if necessary, but something heavy and hard strikes the back of his skull and he feels his knees crumple. Roman cries out, and Thomas struggles to push himself up. A hand fists itself in his hair and yanks him upright, sharply. Thomas exhales sharply through his teeth, but before he can start struggling, something cool and round rests against the back of his neck, shutting him up and shutting his brain down.

Roman is puffed up like a hedgehog, apparently fully prepared to defend Thomas despite his strong and inherent mistrust. Before he can begin to attack, Thomas hears the click-click-click of shoes on the hard stone floor. Whoever’s holding his head yanks him back again, and he is forced to watch as a woman walks into his laboratory.

(It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke - a sick, horrible, twisted joke.)

She has black heels, black tights, a black pencil skirt, a black blazer, and a blood-red blouse. Her hair is scraped back into a tight bun, pulled so taut it must hurt, and is held in place with a pitch black stick. She carries a - clipboard? tablet? Unclear - held against her chest, and there’s a sleek silver weapon in her right hand.

“The one from the video?” she asks.

“Affirmative, ma’am,” says the person holding Thomas’s head. The woman nods, lifting her weapon, and fires at Roman. Thomas tries to scream a warning, earning himself another painful yank from his captor, but the projectile lodges itself in Roman’s shoulder anyway.

It isn’t a bullet, but something that looks like a small syringe. Roman swats it out of his shoulder, swaying a little, but it doesn’t stop him from swiping at the - mercenary, they must be - who tries to grab him with his elbow spines. The woman frowns, lifts the weapon - some kind of tranquilizer gun? - and fires again.

Roman screams, inhuman and animal, and tears the newest dart from his arm, throwing himself out of his tank and clinging to the nearest mercenary. His teeth tear into the man’s shoulder, spines piercing through his camouflage clothing and flooding him with neurotoxin. The man collapses against the concrete, alive but unconscious, and Roman snarls at the next man as though daring him to approach. He sways, weakened but awake, and bares his teeth.

“Of course,” the woman says, tapping something on her tablet. “His naturally produced neurotoxin must be providing him with some level of natural resistance. Unexpected, but not a limitation.”

It takes three more tranquilizer darts before Roman finally slumps down into his tank, unconscious. The mercenaries look hesitant to approach him, but the woman reaches for her tablet and they scramble to action at once.

“No - no, stop, let him go, he’s not an animal for you to cart off to your lab -” Thomas starts. The man holding him knees him sharply in the back and he cries out, coughing.

They wrap Roman in thick leather bands, roughly shoving his spines flat and binding them against his skin so that he can’t attack them again. The woman nods, once, short and sharp, and they drag Roman away, letting his head bang mercilessly on the ground. Thomas catches a glimpse of a logo - emblazoned on the back of the jackets, on the back of the woman’s tablet, on the side of her tranquilizer gun - and commits it to memory. He’s going to need it, if he gets out of here alive.

“- your phone,” the woman says, and oh, when did she get in front of him.

“My what?”

His mouth runs dry as she places the tranquilizer gun under his chin, barrel pressing against his throat, and tips his chin up. “I said, give me your phone.”

Thomas blinks. “My - the desk. It’s on the desk.”

She sets her tablet down, picks up his phone, and shoves it in his face. “Open it.”

“I - wh -”

“Unlock your phone, Dr. Sanders. Must I repeat myself a third time?” She rolls her eyes. “Doctorates are wasted on people like you.”

Thomas numbly punches in his passcode, and she swipes through to his messages app, frowning before turning the screen towards his face to reveal a message thread with Virgil. “Is this your assistant?”

Thomas glares at her, he’s not going to give her what she wants, he’s not going to just give her Virgil but then the - gun, it must be a gun, what else would they be holding against his neck like this - pushes into him harder, and it’s probably bruising, and he can’t get himself killed here because then he definitely won’t be able to take care of Virgil and -

“Yes,” Thomas says, hating himself for giving in so easily. “What do you -”

She turns away from him, nails clicking against his phone screen as she sends a text message - to Virgil, presumably, and that makes his heart sink like a stone - before dropping it on the floor and stepping on it to shatter it. “I have a message for you.”

“A - what?”

“Did they really hit you that hard, or were you this stupid before we came here?” she says coldly, picking up the tablet again and tapping at the screen. Thomas groans as the man yanks him to his feet, shoving him onto his chair and pulling a roll of duct tape out of one of his multiple pants pockets. He tapes Thomas’s wrists and ankles to the chair, keeping his weapon trained on Thomas’s temple at all times, before pressing it roughly against his head and gripping his hair again.

The woman sets the tablet on his lab table, and the screen flickers to life, and then there’s a woman in front of a dark black backdrop, smiling at him like a cat who’s caught a canary. “Thomas Sanders. How long I’ve waited for this day.”

Thomas recognizes her. He knows he recognizes her. She used to be his classmate, before . . .

His head hurts, so badly that he can barely keep his eyes open, and the memory slips away. “You . . . why are you doing this?”

“Why? Because I am a real scientist, unlike you. You refuse to do what is necessary, what must be done for the progression of the species. The sacrifice of some worthless animals is necessary for humanity to reach its zenith. You would really hinder the entire human race for the preservation of lower life forms?”

“Wh - I -”

“You think that ‘preserving the ecosystem’ and ‘keeping animals alive’ makes you a good scientist, but it makes you weak. You are weak, Thomas Sanders, and if the world was left in the hands of people like you, the human race as we know it would die out in a few centuries. Fortunately, there are people like me, who understand what must be done.”

“Caring about other people and things - it doesn’t - it doesn’t make you weak,” Thomas says, chest heaving, and the woman just laughs.

“One of many logical fallacies to which you subscribe, Thomas. They really gave you a doctorate? Of course caring makes you weak. All emotions make you weak. They corrupt your data and make your experiments worthless. You must be ruthless. You must be willing to do whatever it takes to pursue your goals and achieve the height of success. But no.” She rolls her eyes, face hardening, twirling a pen in her fingers. “You insist on ethics and principles and letting emotions cloud your judgement, and that makes you a failure as a scientist. It makes you weak. Your attachments will be your downfall.”

Thomas’s eyes slide shut, head pounding, and the man behind him yanks at his hair so sharply that he knows some has been ripped out. He forces his eyes open in time to see a smile slide across the woman’s face like a knife, teeth gleaming white as sun-bleached bone.

“You won’t - get away with this,” Thomas manages. He grinds his teeth together and curls his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms to keep himself awake. “If you leave me alive -” Thomas, stop talking, why are you reminding her that she has the option to fucking kill you “- I will not rest until I find you. I’ll - you can’t -”

“You’ll what, Thomas? If you call the police, you’ll expose those creatures you’re so intent on protecting to the world. Are you really willing to take that chance?” Before Thomas can even begin formulating a response, she steamrolls him. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you were, I’m going to take some . . . insurance, shall we say.”

“Why not just kill me?” Thomas spits. Excellent idea, Doc, poke the murderous lady with a stick like a god damn hornet’s nest, the tiny Virgil in his brain hisses. Her smile, somehow, only widens, and that’s . . . that can’t be good, can it? Smiles are supposed to be good! They’re supposed to make you happy, but all Thomas feels is creeping dread and pain, so much pain, and -

Yeah. He’s . . . pretty sure he has a concussion.

“Because if I kill you, you get to take the easy way out. Your suffering will end. But unlike you, I don’t put limits on my science. I know how to cause you the maximum amount of pain.”

Thomas eyes the toxin gun, but the on-screen woman just laughs. “Not yet, Thomas. We need something from you, first.”

“You already took Roman,” Thomas says. “What more can you possibly take from me?”

“You named it? You’re even weaker than I thought.”

“He told me his name, he’s not an it, he’s not a thing for you to play with and - and I -”

There’s a strange sinking feeling in Thomas’s chest as the woman onscreen laughs. “I knew you were emotional, Thomas, but I can’t believe this! It looks like I’ll have more hanging over your head than you thought.”

“You -”

“Say, Tommy-boy, have you heard from your precious little assistant recently?”

Thomas’s entire body flushes ice-cold and then white-hot, immediately struggling against his duct tape bindings despite the man tearing at his hair and shoving the gun into his neck and snapping at him to shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up before I do something we’re both gonna regret -

“Don’t you touch him!” Thomas snaps. “If you hurt him, I swear to God -”

“You’re not in a position to be making demands, and if you don’t calm down, I’ll paint your boring little lab bright red.” Thomas freezes, holding his entire body tensed like electricity is running through his blood.

There are footsteps on the stairs. “Doc? I got your text, what’s -”

“Virgil, run!” Thomas chokes. Virgil comes around the corner, holding his phone, staring at the screen in confusion. He looks up, eyes widening in horror as he takes in the scene.

“You know what to do,” the woman onscreen says. The other woman lifts her tranquilizer gun, and Thomas is sure that he’s screaming, his mouth is open and sound is coming out but his blood is rushing through his ears and his heart is pounding like waves against a boat in rough sea and he can’t - he can’t -

Virgil turns to run, but the tranquilizer dart hits in him the back of the neck and he collapses like a sack of bricks. The woman lowers her gun and jerks her head at the two remaining conscious, unoccupied mercenaries, who step forward and grab Virgil.

“Let him go!” Thomas screams, and his throat feels raw and his chest feels raw and his wrists are rubbed raw and his soul feels hollow and raw, like he’s been scraped out with a jagged piece of metal and only an empty shell remains. Virgil’s head lolls against his chest as they drag him down the grotto tunnel, and Thomas struggles and screams and stares after them until Virgil is out of sight.

His face is damp, and his eyes are burning, and he isn’t sure if it’s blood from his head wound or tears or some strange, morbid mixture of both.

“The greatest torture of which I can conceive,” the woman onscreen says, and it takes him a moment to realize that oh, she’s talking to me, “is to leave you alive, knowing that your precious little protégé is with me, and that there is nothing you can do about it.” She leans forward, and any trace of a smile is gone. “If you try to come after me, I will kill him. If you call the authorities, I will kill him. I already found you, Thomas. Don’t think I’m not watching. If I catch so much as a whiff of you planning something, his blood will be on your hands. Do you understand me?”

Thomas, numb and shocked, can’t even respond. “Knock him out and bring the specimens back to me,” the woman onscreen says.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He doesn’t even feel the tranquilizer dart hit his neck, but he welcomes the sweeping darkness.

(Summary: Evil Scientist Lady has been spying on Thomas and she finds the entrance to the grotto where our mer friends have been hiding. She sends her assistant and several armed thugs to invade the lab, they drug Roman with tranquilizers and kidnap him. Thomas gets knocked around a lot and is mocked for being an ethical scientist and caring about people by Evil Scientist Lady and she gloats at him through Evil Facetime before kidnapping Virgil in the same way they did Roman, knocking Thomas unconscious, and leaving him tied to his lab chair. During this whole scene, Patton is out in the open ocean hunting and Logan is safely hidden in Virgil's room.)

[cosmiclatte28]

Guilty Pleasure (Yuta x reader)

A/n : hey i finished my term #yay! now i'll rush all my WIP. wish me luck

warning : one night stand, don't copy this and yeah suggestive soft smut KINDA SMUT (?) JUST DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SIN :D

tagging @yutahoes :p

network @supermwritersnet @multifandomnet

“It’s just one night, come on don’t worry. I can’t book you any other hotel.” your brother explains to you from the call on why he booked you a room that’s like an old motel. “I saw the room and it’s nice. It looks like a regular hotel, just that they named it motel, maybe because they have the parking spot in front of the rooms.” Taeyong tries to explain and reassures you he booked you a decent place to stay and nothing shady. You nod and just bring yourself to the office which is just a locket. You sigh “Hello, I’m here for my reservation.” you forced a smile to the lady behind the glass window.

“Hello, may I have your ID and card?” she asks you nicely to which you gladly do so. She’s quick in checking you in and making the payment. After returning your card and ID she hands you over two card keys.

“Your room will be number 217 and please take that stairs to your room. Have a nice stay.” she disappears and lets you go with the keys.

You bring your suitcase along with you, just one night and tomorrow you’ll take the bus to meet your brother. You shrug off the odd feeling of climbing the staircase. This sure is something you’ve seen in an old Hollywood movie.

With determination you find your room and pluck in your card only to see the light turns red and you try to open the handle several times but it doesn’t budge. One glance over the room number and to the paper the lady gave you. It’s the same room!

There’s a voice and suddenly someone appears unlocking the door and you’re taken aback.

“Excuse me?” he asks in a deep voice while peeking from the door.

You gulp, and look at your keys “Um is this room 217?”

He nods and steps to the gap and opens the door a little bit more. “Yes this is 217 and I am staying here.” he tucks his hands into his pocket, his trained biceps showing off from his tank.

You give him a meek smile “Um the lady downstairs gave me this room.” you show him the number and he frowns “Looks like she gave you the wrong number.”

You gasp “Alright, I’ll ask her. Once again sorry.” you apologize before finally going back down the stairs with your stuff and groaning when you arrive on the locket.

“Hello, I got this room and someone is inside.” you try to hold your chuckle, well at least that someone is hot and is not creepy.

“Okay sorry, there you go,” the guy slips back a new card for you “Room 218”

You thank him and go back to the same floor. Huh just the room next to the one earlier.

“Hey, did you get the room?” the 217 guy suddenly pops his head out when he hears you back.

You’re surprised how he knows you’ve come back.

“Yup, they gave me a wrong number. Sorry.” you push your luggage inside the room while stil maintaining eye contact with the stranger.

“Staying the night?” he asks slowly, afraid that he sounds impolite.

You nod “Just for a night, what about you?” you ask back. A simple conversation won’t be dangerous right?

He leans on his door frame, tank and sweatpants showing he’s been relaxing for a while here.

“Yup. I have to transit to the town nearby and my pick up will come tomorrow.”

You nod “Cool,”

“Yeah. Um I don’t mean to be rude but do you want to look for something to eat?” he rubs his neck shyly and you smile “I don’t have a plan tonight so yeah I could go for dinner with you.”

He returns a minute later with a pair of jeans and shirt, casual but trendy and you keep your current clothes on, just jeggings with a comfortable tee.

“Sorry, I only have these clothes for my business trip.” he locks his door and pockets the key.

You laugh “No worries, I get it. It’s either formal or something you wore to bed.” he clicks his tongue “You got that.”

The two of you start talking as you both take the stairs down.

“So what’s your name?” he asks when you’re already on the road ready to cross the street.

“(Y/n), what about you?” you ask looking at him and oh god he is handsome.

He smiles trying to repeat your name “(Y/n), sounds so good in my tongue. I’m yuta, nice to meet you.” he glances at you and realizes the small blush on your cheeks.

“Business trip too?” he asks and you shake your head “No, just here to stay the night and take a bus to my brother tomorrow.”

He offers a restaurant nearby and you agree. Both of you take a seat and choose a menu.

“Do you drink wine?” you ask, somehow feeling like opening a bottle tonight because you’re tired from the job you have and summer break is finally starting for you.

Yuta nods “I’d love that.”

So both of you end up talking more and more over pasta and wine. It’s a nice dinner. Yuta is a gentleman and he’s working in the entertainment industry. No wonder he dresses like that and looks like a snacc.

The night grows deeper and both of you finish the bottle of wine. Suddenly the talk becomes intimate more like you checking on him if he is single and he sure is not committed to anyone at the moment. Work doesn’t let him have time to dote a woman.

“I’m also free,” you wink and smirk when your foot under the table slowly traces his strong legs. Yuta gulps and smiles calmly “Look who’s drunk and naughty.” he whispers and you grin “I am not drunk.”

Yuta laughs from how red your face is, he’s sure you’re almost drunk.

“Let me get the bill and we can continue this, say my room or yours?” he asks after calling the waiter for a bill.

He paid for the dinner even when you insist on paying, he said “It’s on my company don’t worry.”

You stand up from your chair, feet not sensing the ground and oh boy you realize you are tipsy.

“Hold me.” you take his hand and grip on him as he helps you walk back to the hotel.

Once both of you arrive you whisper to his ear “My room.”

He nods, agreeing that his room is still messy from his working papers and your room is still untouched.

With one simple look and a lip bite, Yuta pushes you to the bed and claims you then and there. The kiss is passionate and hot, something about the way he still keeps the tempo moderate makes you frustrated that he is playing the game slowly.

“Faster,” you beg but he keeps taking his time, enjoying your lusty look and teasing you.

“No regrets?” he asks before taking you then and there. You groan “Yes just do it Yuta.” you stifle back a moan when he finally enters you.

You’re sure the neighbors can hear you, luckily the room next to you is only Yuta’s and the other one is the stairs. Both of you are over the moon and after going down the high several times and your energy drained, he has you covered under the blanket.

You snuggle close to him “I’m sticky.”

He rubs your shoulder softly and kisses your head “Shower?”

You nod and close your eyes, tired of the fun but still wanting to shower.

Yuta extends his arm to take a pillow and puts it under your head “I’ll make a warm bath for you.”

You just nod, head already gone to dreamland and moments later you feel a strong arm picking you up and you feel the hot water touch your skin.

He lowers you slowly to the bubble bath, surprised that he has a bubble bath with him for a business trip because you don’t have one right now.

“Come here.” you moan in delight when you sink yourself more to the hot water.

Yuta giggles and slowly enters the small tub. It’s full with some water leaving the tub because both of you occupied more volume.

He calmly massages your tense shoulder and you feel yourself more drowsy. “I might fall asleep.”

He chuckles “Don’t worry I got you.” He grabs a bottle of soap and begins leathering you with the liquid, and soon after you’re clean and ready to sleep.

You shimmy into your underwear and hide under the blanket once he is done putting on his sweatpants. Suddenly you’re sobering up and you blush when you remember what you just did.

“That was so nice.” you shyly admit and Yuta smirks “You’re this shy when you were wild five minutes ago.”

You pout “Yak keep this a secret.”

He ruffles your hair “It’s a secret as long as I can meet you again someday. I want to know you more.”

You smile “I’ll leave my number by the morning. I have to catch my bus good night Yuta.” you drive off to bed and the next morning, you’ve seen your room empty. He must’ve returned to do some more work like he said at dinner.

You take a notepad you have in your bag and quickly scribble your number and after packing your stuff you slide it under the door. You smile one more time at the room number, what a meeting.

--

“(Y/n) how dare you not give me any update! How was the hotel?” your brother asks you once you’re seated on the bus and already on the way to meet him.

“It was nice Taeyong, sorry I got too tired and slept.” you lied but he buys it.

“Glad to hear that. Nothing bad happens right?” He sounds worried .

You smile when you see the text message from Yuta. “Yeah nothing bad. Okay I’ll see you soon.” you end the call and reply Yuta back.

The five hours ride doesn’t feel long at all because both you and Yuta are busy texting each other random things.

That’s one guilty pleasure with a random hottie and you wish you’ll meet him again someday.

end

[writtenjewels]

Dance

Cullen glanced around the library looking for one particular face. He was hoping to see the man at the front desk but no such luck. Sighing, Cullen slid his book into the return bin and started going through the shelves. He did enjoy reading so these frequent visits to the library weren't entirely because of the handsome librarian. But he had to admit that he was much more eager to come by these days because of the man.

He turned the corner toward the next line of shelves and felt an excited thrill in his heart. Dorian, dark hair swept in an elegant style as always, was putting books away. He wore an outfit of blue and white today, which Cullen thought complemented his dark skin well. Dorian shifted to grab the next book and noticed Cullen. His mustache was perfectly styled too with just the hint of a curl.

“Finished your book already, Cullen?” he asked.

“Yes, I enjoyed it.” He was aware Dorian had learned his name as a show of good customer service, but it still thrilled him to hear it. Dorian's lips curled into a smile and he picked up a book from his cart.

“Here, you should read this one next. I've read it myself and found it wonderful.” Cullen took the volume with a muttered thanks. “You'll have to let me know what you think when you're finished.”

“I will.” Damn it all, why couldn't he have a more coherent conversation with this man? It was easy to talk when he was giving out orders or discussing strategy, but the idea of expressing romantic interest had him tongue-tied. Not wishing to stand there like a fool, Cullen turned on his heels and went to check out the book.

Naturally, his friends felt the need to tease him about it later.

“So did you finally talk to the handsome librarian?” Josephine wondered. “For more than five minutes?”

“No,” he was forced to admit. Varric let out a groan.

“You're hopeless, Curly. You've been pining over this guy for... what, a month now? Why don't you ask him out already, for Andraste's sake?” Cullen squirmed uneasily. He didn't know how he would go about doing that. Varric seemed to come to the same conclusion. “You know what you need? A night out. Friday, we're going out for some fun. No excuses.”

There was no point in arguing with Varric Tethras. And knowing the dwarf, his idea of “fun” was not going to line up with Cullen's. He contented himself with seeing Dorian again in the meantime. As they chatted about books, a thought came to him. If he could just ask Dorian out, he could avoid whatever “fun” Varric had in mind.

“Are you doing anything interesting this weekend?” he asked, hoping that came out as casual and friendly.

“Not particularly. I have to work my second job.” Cullen deflated a little at that. “I forgot to mention,” Dorian continued. “The library is going to be putting out a chess set for patrons. You said you liked playing, yes? Maybe you can help me break it in.”

“Play chess with you?” Cullen confirmed. Was Dorian flirting? Or was Cullen simply hoping, and this was all just the same friendliness as usual? Either way, it meant more time spent with the handsome librarian. “Yes, I'd enjoy that.” Dorian's face practically glowed in a responding smile.

Friday night found Cullen with Varric and Josephine about to enter a club. He was already regretting this before they even walked through the door. What he found inside had him nearly choking on his own tongue. There were half-naked men everywhere: walking around serving drinks, sitting on top of tables, dancing on a stage....

“Varric, is... is this a strip club?!” Cullen squeaked out.

“Yeah. I figure this was a good way to take your mind off your librarian.” Too stunned to speak, Cullen turned to Josephine hoping to get her support. But her face was alight in a grin. “It doesn't do anything for me,” the dwarf continued, “but you and Ruffles can go enjoy yourselves. I'm just here to foot the bill.”

When Cullen still couldn't speak, Varric herded him over to a table where the three of them took a seat. A waiter came by to get their drink orders. Cullen supposed that the tight shirt and short shorts could be considered a uniform, but it left little to the imagination.

“My friend here is a first-timer,” Varric informed the waiter, patting Cullen on the shoulder. “What would you recommend?” Cullen blushed as the waiter gave him a once-over.

“You have a good view of the stage. Sparkler is going on the pole in a few minutes. He's one of our best dancers.” Going on the pole...? Cullen gulped as he focused on the men sliding up and down metal poles, draping one leg around it and arching their backs. He dropped his eyes down to his lap. He was relieved that his arousal wasn't that noticeable.

There was no denying that this club hired attractive men. All varying sizes and shapes to appeal to different customers. Qunari, elves, humans, even some dwarfs. Josephine was hooting and clapping, loving all of this. Someone announced the next set of dancers and Varric nudged Cullen hard. He sighed, lifting his head again. He would indulge the dwarf a while longer before insisting they leave.

The one called Sparkler walked onto the stage and positioned himself at the pole nearest where Cullen and his friends were sitting. Cullen's mouth dropped, his heart gave a lurch in his chest, and he momentarily forgot how to breathe. That styled dark hair, the gently curled mustache, those sea-grey eyes... Cullen's whole body started buzzing. It was Dorian. The man was wearing form-fitting clothing that sparkled when he moved.

The music started and Dorian began to move along the pole. He slid his hands up its length until they stretched above his head and then he bent his back in an elegant arch. Straightening again, he sank down with legs parted until he was nearly sitting on the stage. Dorian rose up slowly, jutting his ass out as he did. Cullen gaped, spellbound. He was likely biased but he could see why Dorian was one of the best: he had a way of moving that displayed his body in a sensual, almost teasing way. Making the crowd hungry for more.

Off to one side a group of men were cheering and calling for Dorian to start stripping. Cullen glared at them. Dorian placed a hand on his chest and pretended to swoon. He winked at the group and ripped his shirt off in one tug, throwing it toward the delighted men. Now Dorian was bare from the waist up. Cullen was finding it more difficult to breathe. He'd seen half-naked men before-- hell, he'd seen a completely naked man before when that one recruit lost his armor. But seeing Dorian like this, beautiful and glistening under the stage lights, was quite a different matter.

It struck Cullen that he might not have reacted so strongly if he didn't know Dorian from the library. Superficially, yes, the man was just as attractive as every other employee in the club. But Cullen had heard his laugh, seen his smile, knew some of his interests. Seeing the friendly librarian like this only added a new layer to the man. Dorian was stretching himself on the pole again, displaying his body shamelessly. His head was tilted up, his lips parted as if caught in pleasure. Cullen felt a stir of desire inside him. He wanted to be the cause of that pleasure...

Dorian was gliding his body down the pole and Cullen followed the progress. The man's legs were spread wider and Cullen leaned forward. Keeping his back pressed against the pole, Dorian trailed his fingers down the planes of his chest and stomach. Cullen's breath hitched in excitement. Dorian's eyes slowly opened, his expression hooded and sultry for whichever man he happened to be focused on. And his eyes met Cullen's.

Cullen saw the moment when the persona of the wanton seducer dropped. Dorian's eyes went wide and his mouth opened again, in surprise this time. It was hard to tell with the body oil glistening on him, but he might have even been blushing. Dorian wet his lips and rested his hands on his knees. He ran them up the insides of his parted thighs, Cullen following the progression. His eyes darted back up to Dorian's face. The man's eyes were still locked on him and he was breathing heavily. Not, Cullen thought, from the exertion of his dance.

Cullen wet his own lips and swallowed. His eyes went back down to Dorian's spread legs. The man's fingers gripped onto his inner thighs and tugged. The trousers ripped off, revealing his legs and the small bit of cloth covering his crotch. Cullen nearly fell out of his chair. He managed to recover but he had to get a hand down and press against the straining bulge between his legs. Dorian noted that and shuddered a little. His mouth moved in a deliberate forming of Cullen's name, spreading his legs out even wider, throwing back his head and arching his body.

Thoughtlessly, Cullen rubbed the heel of his palm against his clothed erection. Some part of his mind was aware he was still in a club and other men were drooling over Dorian right now, but it was all background noise. All he could see was Dorian stretching, sliding up and down the pole, displaying his body for Cullen. He continued rubbing and Dorian's eyes kept centering on him with every dip and sway he took on the pole. The song ended far too soon. Dorian swept a bow, again lingering on Cullen, then turned to the group who had his shirt.

“Well,” Varric spoke up, reminding Cullen that he wasn't alone after all, “you seemed to like that one, Curly.”

“Yes,” Cullen agreed, clasping his hand tight over his rock-hard erection. “I suppose I did.”

[rookie-ramsey]

Curveball, Chapter 5 (Ethan X MC)

Description: Two months after the ski lodge, life throws them a big surprise.

Preview:  She felt movement in her stomach, stronger than she had before. Gasping softly, she grabbed Ethan’s hand and pressed it to her abdomen. “Wait a second. You may be able to feel them this time.”

Ethan held still. A few moments later, he could feel a little flutter against his palm. Unable to resist, his lips twisted into a smile. His eyes softened, more affectionate than she had ever seen before. Olivia grinned and rested her hand on top of his.

“If my phone wasn’t all the way over there, I’d take a picture of you right now because that’s the cutest facial expression I’ve ever seen on your face.”

Previous Chapter

At the halfway mark of her second trimester, Olivia was quite certain she doubled in size overnight.

Over time, Ethan’s spare bedroom turned into a storage space for nursery items. Once all of the furniture had been delivered, they picked out the paint for the walls. Ethan probably would have insisted on doing everything himself, but Olivia recruited help.

When there was a knock on the door, she opened it to let Bryce, Baz, and Zaid into the apartment. “Did you three carpool?”

Zaid sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. Certain occupants of the car felt the need to sing during the entire ride.”

Feigning offense, Bryce frowned. “What’s the point of driving anywhere if you’re not going to put on a concert?”

“You got a speeding ticket.”

“Which I’ll pay!” Bryce turned to Olivia. “Nursery Assistance Crew is here to help.”

“Good.” Olivia grinned and led the way to the spare room, where Ethan was opening the cans of light gray paint for the walls. Curious to see how things would play out, she leaned in the doorway to observe.

Bryce and Ethan carefully poured the paint into trays while Baz and Zaid spread drop cloths to protect the floor from spills. Once the floor was sufficiently protected, Ethan passed out paint brushes and rollers.

“If we each paint one wall, we’ll have the room painted quickly. We can paint the first layer and assemble the furniture while we wait for it to dry. It only takes a couple of hours.”

“Good delegation. Aye aye, Captain.” Bryce saluted with the paint roller, earning an eye roll in response. They each dipped their rollers in paint and started working on the walls. The first minute passed in silence before Bryce started a whistling. A moment later, Baz joined in.

Zaid let out a groan. “First the concert in the car and now this?”

Ethan rolled his eyes, focusing on painting. “If the two of you are going to whistle, could you not whistle Christmas music in August?”

“I could always whistle WAP,” Bryce suggested.

It only took a second for Ethan to shake his head. “No. Absolutely under no circumstances will you do that.”

Just as Ethan predicted, it didn’t take long for the four of them to place the first layer of paint. He wiped his hands on a towel and nodded in approval at their handiwork. “Not bad. We can put the furniture together while we wait.”

They opened the box that contained the first crib. Ethan spread the parts across the floor and eyed them, comparing them to the picture on the front of the box.

“Alright. I can handle this.”

Olivia pointed at the booklet lying on the floor. “There’s an instruction manual right there.”

“I don’t need it.”

Baz arched a brow. “Famous last words, boss.”

“You’ve read more books than the rest of us combined and you won’t read a manual? That’s a new level of stubborn.” Bryce smirked.

“The picture is guidance enough.” Ethan knelt down and sorted through the parts until he found the pieces that he presumed would compose the bottom frame. He linked them together, forming a crib-sized rectangle.

He then found the legs and attached them. So far, everything seemed to resemble the picture, so he reached for the screwdriver to tighten everything.

“And… crash.” Bryce laughed when his words timed almost perfectly with the collapse of the crib parts.

Ethan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t have the parts tight enough. Everything was correct.”

“I think this is why manuals are included in these things.”

“Those are always badly written with poor excuses of diagrams. They’re a waste of paper and time.” Ethan shook his head, picking up the fallen pieces.

“I bet you ten dollars I can build the other crib faster than you without looking at the instructions,” Bryce proposed.

“It’s a bet.”

Zaid rolled his eyes. “What are we supposed to do while you two participate in this competition? Just stand here and look pretty?”

Bryce nodded. “Got it in one, Dr. M! We need an audience.”

Ethan turned his head toward the door when the smell of warm butter permeated his senses. “When did you get popcorn?”

Olivia shrugged, scooping up a handful of the fluffy white kernels. “A few seconds after you decided not to look at the manual. I knew I was in for some entertainment.”

“It has been rather amusing.” Baz grinned, accepting a handful of popcorn when she offered him the bowl.

She sat on one of the furniture boxes and nestled the bowl on her lap. “I’m curious to see who actually builds a crib first without it collapsing.”

Bryce cracked his knuckles. “Ready?”

Olivia and Baz set timers on their phones. “Alright. The race is on in three… two… one… go!”

Rolling his eyes, Ethan started rummaging through the parts to determine which ones actually went together. After some careful matching, he successfully formed the base of the crib.

Working a little faster, Bryce fastened one of the crib legs. “I’m one move ahead of you, Ramsey. You’ll be eating my dust.”

Laughing, Olivia started dictating in her best impression of  a sports announcer's voice. “Lahela is just ahead of Ramsey, but will the fast results hold up?”

Ethan glanced up. “When did we become an Olympic sport?”

“Just now,” Olivia confirmed. “Extreme Crib Assembly is officially my favorite part of the Olympics.”

A few minutes later, Bryce stepped back from the crib and threw his hands up. “Done!”

Baz hit the button on his timer. “Thirteen minutes and twenty-seven seconds,” he confirmed just as Ethan finished.

“Thirteen minutes and twenty seconds.” Olivia rubbed her hands together. “The true test is to make sure both cribs are put together correctly. Bryce may have finished first, but if his crib has a problem, he still loses.”

“Never.” Bryce shook his head and handed her one of the instruction manuals so she could check over their finished cribs.

Olivia glanced from the booklet to the cribs, nodding as she confirmed that the parts on both cribs were in their proper places. She tried to give each one a firm shake, pleased when they remained steady.

“And it looks like both cribs are a success! This means Lahela wins by a narrow six seconds!”

“What do I win?”

“Ethan’s ten dollars and… the rest of this popcorn, because I want pizza.”

“I’ll take it.” Bryce accepted the bowl and grinned. “Looks like all those hours in the OR do help with putting furniture together.”

Sighing in defeat, Ethan reached into his wallet and surrendered a ten dollar bill to him. Once they had the cribs settled into their places, they worked on the changing table. Olivia left the room to order some pizzas, but quickly returned so she wouldn’t miss out on the banter occurring in the soon-to-be nursery.

It didn’t take the four of them long to assemble the changing table and rocking chairs.  When the pizzas arrived, they took a break and sat down at the kitchen table. Olivia bypassed the chair, opting instead to sit on Ethan’s lap. Instinctively, Ethan slipped his arm around her waist.

“How cute.” Baz grinned.

Bryce smiled mischievously. “Whipped.”

Zaid shrugged when Bryce and Baz turned to him as if they expected him to join in on the teasing. “No comment.”

“Oh, come on. Watching them is as fun as watching you and Ines.” Baz’s grin widened as his twin’s cheeks flushed.

Olivia chuckled, biting into a piece of pizza. “We are cute. I’ll accept your compliments.”

After lunch, she curled up on the couch to watch TV while everyone else finished the nursery. She dozed off, waking up when Ethan joined her on the couch.

“Hi. Did everyone go home?”

Ethan nodded and looped his arm around her. “We finished. I suppose that went faster than it would have if I’d tried to do it by myself.”

She felt movement in her stomach, stronger than she had before. Gasping softly, she grabbed Ethan’s hand and pressed it to her abdomen. “Wait a second. You may be able to feel them this time.”

Ethan held still. A few moments later, he could feel a little flutter against his palm. Unable to resist, his lips twisted into a smile. His eyes softened, more affectionate than she had ever seen before. Olivia grinned and rested her hand on top of his.

“If my phone wasn’t all the way over there, I’d take a picture of you right now because that’s the cutest facial expression I’ve ever seen on your face.”

He let out a low chuckle. “And give you a chance to put ridiculous filters on my face for the world to see? I don’t think so.”

“The world loves your face, ridiculous filters or not.”

Ethan’s hand rubbed gently against her stomach, earning another tiny motion in response. His brow knitted in thought. “It’s a little strange, how…. different this makes me feel.”

“Good different or bad different?”

“Good different,” Ethan assured her, smoothing his free hand over her hair. “It almost makes me wonder why I had worries about anything.”

“That’s good, because we’re halfway there.”

XXXXXX

Presents of every shape and size occupied their living room.

Between the balloons, streamers, and the huge banner, Olivia felt almost certain that an entire aisle of baby shower decorations had exploded in their apartment. She grinned and snagged a cookie from a platter.

“Sienna, everything looks delicious. It’s a good thing I’m eating for three, because I plan on eating at least one of everything,” she declared, licking icing from her fingers as Ethan joined them in the kitchen.

Sienna smiled as she put the finishing touches on a tower of cupcakes. “These were so much fun to make!”

“They look so cute. Every time I try to bake or cook, things go horribly wrong.”

“They really do, don’t they?” Ethan agreed, a teasing glint appearing in his eyes.

“It’s like the time she burnt Christmas cookies the day after Halloween.” Sienna grinned.

Ethan shook his head. “She beat that this year. She set off the smoke alarm making gingerbread men last week.”

Olivia feigned offense, putting her hands on her hips. “Are you two ganging up on me? Because I will get Naveen to help me taunt you, Ethan.”

“Don’t you already do that?”

“Well, yes. But I won’t hesitate.”  Shaking her head, Olivia finished her cookie and watched as their guests finished piling presents on the table. “What kind of shenanigans are we getting into today?”

“You’ll see,” Sienna promised.

Note: The rest of the baby shower takes place in the next chapter! Stay tuned!

Next Chapter

[statticscribbles]

Strongest Pt 2

Summary: Sweet Pea/Reader Request: Pt 2 to Strongest

“Listen I don’t want to cause anything; but is everything okay between you and Sweet Pea?” You turn confused to Betty who sits next to you. “As far as I know it is; why? Is he saying something?” “No it’s just; Jughead’s been seeming more stressed lately and it seems to constantly lead back to Sweet Pea.” “I mean maybe its cause he’s been trying to actually take paying work? Since I’m taking any shifts I can at Pop’s but even then it’s not much; or near enough when it comes to being able to have any sort of savings.” Betty nods chewing her lip.

“I know it’s probably a bit late to be talking about this; but are you going to keep it?” You nod. “Yeah; I mean I thought about you know; just getting rid of it; and then about what happened to Polly; going to the sister’s giving it up for adoption but I just; I got scared. Like the thought of this kid just getting rejected right from the get go; like all the Southsider’s deal with shit, we’ve all been rejected or overlooked but the though of having abandoned it; just; I couldn’t do it.” “Well I think it’s really good that Sweet Pea’s stepping up to actually help. I was pretty surprised when he told us he got another job to help support you. It’s sweet.” “Surprised?” You furrow your brow.

“Well yeah I mean Southsider’s aren’t known for their parenting skills. I mean you’ve heard what happened to my mom.” “Like father like son.” You mutter chuckling to yourself freezing when Betty glares at you. “I can’t believe you’d imply that Jughead would do something like that to me! That’s horrible of you; just because you don’t have the mind to be safe about these things.” She snaps and you can’t help the red you see; you thankfully have the excuse to blame hormones for now. Although even as you’re saying it you’re regretting it. “It’s not an implication; it’s fact; who do you think he was slumming it with when you threw a fit and broke it off with him?” “He what?” You swallow shaking your head. “Nothing it was a low dig I didn’t- Betty wait! Fuck.” You hold your face in your hands.

“Y/N? You okay?” “I just fucked everything up. I’m gonna die.” You look up to see Toni and Cheryl standing in front of you. “Betty knows.” “Oh; well shit. I mean that’s not really your problem; it’s Jughead’s. Don’t stress about it.” Toni awkwardly pats your shoulder. “How about something to cheer you up?” “Cheryl I don’t think anything can cheer me up; why are you handing me your credit card.”

“Because yesterday Fangs told me you were stressing about clothes because you’ve been spending most of the pay checks you’ve been earning on practical things like diapers and food; like hell if I’m letting my god child be dressed in rags.” “Cheryl you don’t have to, really it’s fine.” “So I am a god-parent.” She smirks and Toni raises an eyebrow. “Well yeah, both you and Toni are like live savers for me right now and-“ “Cheryl calm down. People are staring.” Toni sighs smiling at you as Cheryl untangles herself from the hug she’s given you. ————————————————

You look confused to where Sweet Pea sits half asleep half holding a book. “What’re you doing?” “Reading?” “Sweets you just got home from a double shift you can read whatever it is later; you need to rest.” “You’re upset at me cause I’m reading?” “I don’t care about the books; just rest please.” “No not about the books; something else then.” He hums when you nod sinking onto the couch. “Betty knows; I fucked up and let it slip and now she knows and she hates me and Jughead is gonna kick me outta the serpents and-“ “Whoa hey babe, no he’s not; no he’s not; come here love. It’s okay; it’ll work out.” He moves over pulling you onto his lap instead of where you’d settled on the couch. “Did you know-“

“Babe please, please don’t tell me any weird or scary pregnancy facts” “I was just going to say I love you.” “Oh.” your face flushes and he beams. “You’re adorable when you’re embarrassed you know that right?” “I’m not; I’m awful and-“ “Please don’t finish that sentence or I’m going to have to start learning poetry to combat your self hatred. I love you; no matter what you look like; even if you’re gonna go all stereotypical and complain how fat and horrible you think you look, I don’t think that and nothing you can do will change my mind.” ———————————————————————————-

“Listen Y/N; I know I’ve been a huge asshole lately but I want to try to help.” “Is this cause Betty threatened to break up with you again?” “No, Betty has nothing to do with this.” “So you already broke up then?” “Will you listen? Christ I’m trying to be helpful and here you are acting like-“ “Like what Jones? You have something else to say to make her cry? Or anything to add to her stress levels? You really want to ‘just talk’ I mean it’s obvious how Betty’s not talking to you again.” “Sweet Pea this doesn’t concern you it’s between me and Y/N” Jughead snaps and you watch slightly amused as you remember the last confrontation you’d heard.

“Its about my girl so it concerns me; about my family too.” “Don’t pull that shit we both know it’s not your kid.” “Oh; so everyone knows you’re just like your dad? Abandoning your kid before they even realize what’s happening? I’ve told you before Jones; you don’t get to be involved unless Y/N needs something; does she need you?” “Well obviously I’m the actual dad.” “Did you ask her?” You sink in your seat and can feel Toni nudging you. “Stress is bad. You want to bounce?” “It is kind of fun to see them awkwardly try to fight. Does everyone really know about Sweet Pea?”

“No I think Jughead’s just trying to rile him up; FP knows though; apparently he’s livid so I’m sure Jughead is stressed from that.” “FP knows?” You laugh a little and Toni looks confused. You pull your phone out scrolling through your photos. “After that little shopping spree Cheryl dragged us on; I was putting stuff away and assumed I must have gotten it as a joke; but I guess FP snuck it in.” Toni snorts smiling and nodding. “Please you have to put the kid in that. Please.” You nod laughing looking up when you hear a cough. “Put him in what?”

“My dad got you something?” You shrug showing the picture to Sweet Pea who grins laughing. “Your dad has good taste Jughead; I’ll give him that.” Jughead rolls his eyes at the tiny leather jacket. “I don’t see why you didn’t bother finding out the gender; it would make the whole clothes shopping easier you know.” “And what would you know about that?” You shake your head at him and he shrugs. “Well if you let me help;” “You just want to get back in your dad and Betty’s good books.” “Speaking of Betty.”Toni mumbles and you turn when she walks up.

“Hey Y/N can we talk; alone.” She glares at Jughead and you nod following her out of everyone’s earshot. “I’m sorry about how I reacted earlier. I shouldn’t have been so upset at you.” Her hand brushes your shoulder. “I mean you had a right to be; you’d found out your boyfriend slept around and then knocked up one of the people he was sleeping around with.” “It doesn’t mean I should take my anger out on you.” You shrug. “You didn’t really.”

“Toni and Cheryl told me how it was stressing you out and-“ “Betty; a lot of things are stressing me out; I’m becoming a southside statistic; I’m working any chance I get at Pop’s or the Wyrm when Sweet’s doesn’t notice. He’s pulling double shifts. We’re trying to get something saved up for hospital bills; not to mention just regular baby stuff; so you being a little bitter cause your boyfriend caused all this is okay. I am also a little bitter.” “If it makes you feel better FP is making him use part of his tuition money.” “For what?” “Whatever you need according to how pissed FP was.” “I should talk to him.” “Jughead?” “No FP.” Betty nods. “Do you want company?” ———————————————————————-

You tap at the trailer door. Waiting until FP opens it. “Jughead isn’t home; but I’m guessing that’s why you’re here. Come in.” “You don’t need to make him use his money on-“ “Y/N calm down; I’m not making him; I strongly suggested it and then explained why it was the best idea; if he puts money towards the kid now; you’ll be less likely to wreak havoc later; not saying you would but just in case. Besides the rest of the Serpent’s are already pitching in and- Don’t you dare say no; we’re you’re family, and family take care of there own; besides you know what they say about baby rattlesnakes right?” “Is this another famous snake fact?”

“Yes, yes it is; baby rattlesnakes are more venomous than the adults. That kid is going to be so protected bubble wrap will be out of a job.” You laugh and FP smiles. “Seriously Y/N just cause my son doesn’t want anything to do with his kid doesn’t mean I want the same thing.” “I dunno you, being a grandfather? I can’t see it.” “I’m already retired, besides I heard your mom kicked you out; you’ll need someone to babysit who has experience.” “You heard about that?”

“Yeah, apparently you told Sweet Pea not to tell anyone? Like I said, we’re family; we’re here to take care of you. You’re a kid; you need help; please ask for it. Please.” You nod sighing. “Come here.” You lean into FP as he hugs you. “I’m sorry you’re in this mess; I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Jug; I’m sorry I can’t do more to help.”You nod wiping your eyes. “It’s okay dad don’t sweat it.” You can tell he lets the slip up go. “I won’t. I just have one request..” “I’m not naming him Forsythe if he’s a boy.” “I was going to say to not get me any of those ‘worlds best grandpa things’ but that too.” “Well now that’s all your getting.” FP glares but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. ————————————————

You frown when you see your mom sitting on the couch. She dangles the spare key in front of you before setting it on the table as she stands to hug you. “Y/N I’m so-“ “Don’t.” You cringe back and she sighs. “Honestly this entire mess can still be resolved if you just go to the sisters or-“ “Mom. Please stop.” “No you’re going to throw your entire future away for some child that the father doesn’t even want; you’re slumming it with some lesser Serpent cause he said whatever he did to get in your good books so he can sleep with you; you know that right? Whoever he is doesn’t actually care about you or the child; nobody cares about it besides you sweetheart; it would be better to just get rid of it.” “Mom just, please leave I get you think I’m making a mistake but it’s my choice and-“

“Exactly, it’s your choice you’re just a child; you can’t make a decision like this and expect to pick the right answer. Until you change your mind; until you make the right choice, the only choice I can’t be a part of this.” “I never expected you to be. It’s why I left; why I came here with-“ “Y/N I don’t care anymore. You’re free to ruin your life without me. I just came to let you know is all.” “You came to rub it in my face you’ve kicked me out of the house?” “Not to rub it in your face just to say goodbye for now; until you reevaluate your life.” She smiles as she leaves patting your shoulder. ———————————————————

You try your best not to wake Sweet Pea but when you shift over and sniffle slightly too loudly his hand twitches and he mumbles sleepily. “It’s okay Sweets; it’s nothing.” You assure him; you know you probably sound a little panicky a by product of the nightmare you’d just had. You swallow shifting backwards in the bed hoping he can’t feel you shaking. “You sure? Is Peanut okay?” “Peanut?” You watch as his face pulls back sheepishly. “Been calling him peanut in my head, easier that saying it, or the kid every time. I can stop if-“ You kiss him softly and he pulls you into his arms sighing. “It’s not peanut; just had a nightmare.” “You want to talk about it?”

“You weren’t there. I don’t know why but you just couldn’t make it and no one else was there and I was alone and-“ “Hey; hey baby it’s okay. I’ll be there I promise.” “Don’t say that.” “Well I did; and I’m going to. Can you sleep more right now its only four am.” “No I can’t.” You grumble and he smiles kissing you on the forehead. “We should probably figure out what to do whenever peanut decides to come out huh?” “Yeah I guess.” “You guess? You expect he’s just going to ask us if it’s convenient? Send us a letter or something?” You laugh shaking your head. “Just pack a bag and go to the hospital; like normal people.”

“You could always schedule it; it’d cost more but probably better in the long run.” “Oh yeah let me just call Peanut and see when he’s free.” “No babe; like a c-section. You can-“ “I don’t think that’s safe.”You shrug and Sweet Pea frowns. “ Did you know-“ “If you tell me any scary pregnancy facts I’ll cry.” “Babe… It’s just numbers about teen pregnancy; which you are, sort of. Most teen pregnancy births end in c-sections; it’s safer for everyone involved. You can’t just pretend nothing bad is ever going to happen.” “I can and I will, denial is my best friend right now.” “Y/N; what’s actually going on? It’s not just the nightmare is it.”

“My mom came over earlier.” “What did she say love?” You shake your head hiding your face in his chest. “I’m gonna end up like her and you’re going to leave; peanut won’t have his dad around and he’ll hate me.” “That’s not going to happen; you have me. I’m here; no matter what.” He kisses you and you smile into it. “I know; I love you.” “I love you too; but back to the Peanut issue. A C-section might-“ “No. That’s surgery; that’s too expensive we can’t afford that.” “Cheryl-“ “No I’m not asking anyone else to do shit for me and-“ His hand runs through your hair.

“Y/N; she almost strangled me when I told her and Betty you didn’t want a baby shower; she keeps tipping me fifties when Toni lets me take her shifts. Just ask, that’s all I’m asking.” You chew your lip. “It would make sure I could be there; you wouldn’t be in pain.” “Like FP won’t let you take off for you own kid being born…” You glare at him and he laughs. “I wouldn’t put it past him.” He coughs and you frown. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” “Sweet Pea; I can tell something just happened.”

“It’s nothing.” You watch as he snuggles closer to you, you can feel him smiling into your hair. “Sweets. Come on; I just had a nightmare. I’m having your kid; tell me what made you happy.” “That.” He grins and you look confused at him. “I had a nightmare?” “No, that’s horrible; I meant the thing you said about peanut.”

“What about him?” You chew your lip thinking back to everything you’ve said. “Is it about the C-section?” “No it’s just; don’t make me say it.” “No I legit don’t understand what’s got you so happy?” “You said he’s mine.” You nod dumbly at him. “Yes? That’s kind of a fact? Why is that making you happy?” “It’s nice to hear you say it.” You nod still slightly confused. “I mean you are his dad? You’re the one taking care of me and him.” “Or her.” He corrects grinning and you roll your eyes. “Or her; you’re the one who’s got me saying him; I think Fangs is the only one still on the ‘it’s a girl train.’ Cheryl was but Toni somehow convinced her.” ——————————————————————

You glare at Sweet Pea when he walks in. “What’s wrong?” “Cheryl agreed.” “To what? There’s a lot of things I asked her for in the- I’m joking babe, I’m joking! I didn’t ask her for anything. Besides that fancy ass crib she- IT’S A JOKE Y/N.” “The 15th at 9 am. That’s only a week early. I called FP already so he knows; so you have two weeks after that off.” “Oh, oh shit!” You watch his face and laugh when it clicks. “Yeah.” “Holy fuck we’re going to be parents.” “Yes? We’ve known for months?” “Well yeah there’s a date, and time now. It’s serious; like real, really real. Holy fuck.” He mumbles walking over to lean over to kiss you.

——————————————————-

“I expect you to be more stressed.” Sweet pea shrugs and you arch an eyebrow. “One, I can’t feel anything from my waist down; two since this is all scheduled I’m pretty much waiting for them to call me back.” “Surgery’s kind of a big deal.” He reaches for your hand and you squeeze it. “Didn’t you read all sorts of statistics about teen pregnancy and c-sections in the books you got?” “Well yeah; but it’s different seeing it on paper and it being you.” “How is that different?” “Well I love you; I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” “It won’t. If you start listing all the thing that can go wrong; I won’t; let you hold peanut.” “You can’t make me not hold my own kid Y/N that’s the dumbest threat I’ve ever heard.” “But it’s still a threat.” “A real threat would be putting Jones’ name on the birth certificate.” “Isn’t that what she’s doing?” Fangs question and you laugh as he drags a parade of balloons into the room. “Cheryl made me get both.”

“I get the pink and blue cause we kept it a secret but uh, why are there four; it’s not twins.” “From her and then from Toni I guess.” Fangs shrugs. “Is that a toy snake?” “Yeah, gotta make sure she loves snakes duh.” Fangs grins and you shake your head laughing. “You have to tell us the name!” Toni interrupts; Cheryl following her. “No I’ve already told you we’re not revealing that or the gender until they’re born.” “Killjoys.” Cheryl laughs smiling at you. —————————————————–

You wake up to the room being empty save for Sweet Pea curled on the chair; you watch him for a moment debating alerting him you’re awake before you can he turns back towards where you can hear the beginning of crying. “Hey whoa, no, no need to get so upset; come on you have to let mom sleep a bit; she can’t take you home unless she’s slept; I know you miss her it’s okay I do to. Now, we have- don’t look at me like that I need your help. Yeah exactly.” You watch Sweet Pea nodding as he looks down at your son, you can see his hand waving, he must have gotten it free while he was sleeping.

“Okay business time and then we can wake mom up yeah? Good; now, black or green? I was thinking green cause you know Serpents but blacks traditional. What do you think? No I’ll show you it in a second you have to help me choose, it’s a family thing after all. So; black or green.” He grins and you only hear laughter in response, you shift pretending to wake up and Sweet Pea grins. “Shit.” You hear him mumble shoving whatever he was holding into his jacket pocket, you can hear it clank and try your best not to get excited about the idea of him giving you your own key.

“Look it’s mom!” You can’t help but smile, Sweet Pea handing him over and you laugh when he cries. “Aw do you miss dad? It’s okay he’s like not even a foot away. You’re just unable to tell, you’ll get your object permanence soon.” “Hey you read some of the books!” Sweet Pea grins and you laugh nodding. “Of course; I was pregnant; I sort of had to.” Sweet Pea nods. “Hey listen this is kinda silly but can I take you out to dinner soon; like a proper date?”

“Yeah? They said I need like six weeks to heal from this; movement wise at least; but I don’t see why we can’t go to Pop’s or somewhere else later in the week when we’re a bit more coherent.” “So you mean when you’re not so drugged up you can’t feel your toes.” “Basically yes; why? We went on a date the other day.” “Yeah but I want to go on a date as a family, well like us; you know celebrating we’re a family.” You can see how his face changes, how he stutters and you can tell he’s nervous about whatever he’s planning. You laugh. “What?” His face falls as you grin. “I heard you, well the tail end of your very important conversation.” Sweet Pea’s face pales. “You did?”

“Yes, if you’re going to give me a key you know I don’t care about the colour.” Sweet Pea nods and hides his face. “Aw come on it’s not that hard to figure it out Pea.” “I know just I wanted to surprise you.” “It’s okay I’ll probably forget half of this by tomorrow.” He nods grinning.

“Hopefully.” He winks as the nurse explains you can go home, he helps you into the wheelchair and when you shiver he drapes his jacket over you. He’s distracted with loading everything into the car when you slide your hands into the pockets confused to feel an open box. You fish your hand around deeper trying to figure out where the key meant for you is instead finding a ring catching on your finger.

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[lovemesickly]

plastic hearts - prologue

plastic hearts masterlist

a/n : this is my first ever fanfiction that i’ve written on tumblr, so i hope that most of you if not all of you enjoy reading my story. also quick side note if you didn’t know before but during this book (much later) i plan for the main character to have a love interest. based on what you’ll know about the mc, please feel free to share your opinion on who you think her love interest should be.

chapter warning(s) : none so far

prologue : job hunting

song : sunlight by hozier

It was days like today that made it hard to get up, the woman’s body, who was laying in her bed, ached with every breath she took. She was tired, exhausted and if she had it her way she’d go back to sleep, but it seemed that every time she closed her eyes she was plagued with the feeling of terror. Stretching her arms out, she pulled the warm covers off of her just to rest her feet on the stinging cold hardwood. Trying to wake herself up she took a moment, running her palms over her eyes trying her hardest to rub the sleep out of them.

Though she ended up taking more than a moment as she got lost in her thoughts, lost in the feeling of the coldness that enveloped her in a hug. Finally after trial and tribulation, she managed to stand up on her feet. Some how her body caring for itself as she was dressed and ready to go about her day. Stepping out into her hallway, she ended up shutting her front door with her wallet and keys in hand. Double checking that her apartment was in fact locked, she looked down at her watch covered wrist only to see that it was fifteen minutes to two.

Racking her brain she calculated the time in her head, estimating that she should be back home at the latest by six thirty. Tucking her hands in the pockets of her jean jacket, she started her journey of trying to get outside, her feet themselves carrying her down the stairs. Once making her way outside, she started to trek to her destination. She had one objective today and that was to find a job. And with the rate she was going she honestly wouldn’t be able to survive off of the money she had left in her bank account.

By now an hour had passed and she hadn’t had any luck with jobs. Continuing to search the streets of Washington D.C. to find help wanted signs, the corner of her eyes seemed to catch a blur of black. Sharply turning her head, the woman got whiplash as she looked down the street only to see a black suv with tinted windows pointed in her direction entirely. She wanted to get a closer look as she couldn’t see who was in the car but knew someone was as the engine was running.

Trying to not look into it too much, she started to walk again turning her head back to it’s original position only to take a quick glance back at the suv. Though the moment she did, she was filled with surprise as the spot it previously occupied was now vacant. Huffing under her breath, the woman received weird looks as she spoke to herself silently but not as silent as she had though, “it’s nothing Alek, it’s nothing.”

Continuing with her task for the day, (the now named woman) Alek walked down every street of the metropolitan area. With that, her luck had gotten better as she managed to score a couple of interviews on the spot. Though, with every interview she was only told that they would call her in the next couple of days with the news if she got the job or not. And to be honest with how everything has been going lately she’d be surprised if she actually somehow got hired.

Furthering her quest, the sun had now set as it was close to six pm, the city of Washington D.C. busier then it had been before. By now Alek just wanted to get back to her apartment and take a blistering hot shower as her whole body was numb from the frigid cold weather. Trying to get some feeling back in her feet, she started trekking back to her apartment.

About to cross the street, Alek looked towards her right and left to make sure no cars were near by and that it was safe to cross. Looking around it was clear to the naked eye that the street was safe to cross but only to that of the naked eye. For a second she too had thought it was safe until she saw something reflect in the darkness of the night.

As her eyes couldn’t depict what exactly she had seen her feet started to carry her towards the reflective object. Alek had only taken about 3 steps when all of a sudden she seemed to realize that the reflective object wasn’t an object at all but it was actually a car. The black suv that she had seen earlier in the day to be exact. Usually, she wouldn’t be so concerned about the suv but having seen the exact same one more times this week than she really has with any other cars, it bothered her greatly.

Shaking her head, she knew exactly what the source, causing the suv to follow her every move, was. Knowing that it wasn’t going to stop until she put an end to it, she ended up turning around changing her destination to that of a bus stop instead of her apartment. Alek honestly couldn’t believe that it had to result in this, at first when she noticed the black suv she wasn’t at all worried. It was pretty normal to see suvs all around Washington D.C. it was a sight everyone sees everyday.

Though, to have seen the same suv multiple days in a row and to see it almost everywhere she went, irked her in more ways than one. Reaching the bus stop, Alek was fortunate enough to have arrived right as a bus pulled up. As the doors opened, she climbed on in only to see more than a dozen people occupying the seats.

“Where to”, a voice called out causing her to snap her head towards the direction the voice came from. Her eyes stumbled across the face that went with the voice, recognizing them as the bus driver.

Pulling a five dollar bill out from her right back pocket, Alek handed it to the burly looking man. “Virginia”, she said but she could tell that wasn’t enough from the look on that of the man now holding her once five dollar bill. Swallowing hard, she set her shoulders back while looking the driver in the eyes with a look that could only be described as blank. Though it was hard to tell as her eyes were covered by that of a baseball cap but that didn’t matter as she finished her sentence, “Quantico, Virginia”.

Just as she had uttered her sole destination, the driver closed the doors and started driving again. Seeing that almost all of the seats were taken, Alek ended up heading towards the back and taking a seat that was up against the window. As soon as she sat down she closed her eyes, taking a second to just relax and let everything soak in.

It wasn’t that she was feeling overwhelmed it was just the fact that she still wasn’t use to this life. The life of an everyday normal United States citizen, where people have real 9 to 5 jobs and don’t have to worry about the enemy. Overall, it was too much sensory overload for her body, it wasn’t just the change in environment but the people along with it. Going about their day as if everything was fine and dandy, they had families that they could go home to, people that would miss them.

Just thinking about it she got a little jealous, it was an emotion that Alek haven’t experienced that much in her life until she moved to the D.C. area. Trying to shake it out of her body, she opened her eyes and scoped around the bus. Casting her eyes to the left of her she could see that there was a middle aged man who kept tapping his foot on the floor of the bus.

By the looks of it, he had just gotten off work as he was covered in a grey tailored suit with his briefcase resting at his feet. To everyone else he might look well off that of a wealthy man and he probably was. But upon seeing his left ring finger Alek seemed to notice that there was a slight tan line accompanying it. That in and of itself was enough to tell her that he use to probably be wealthy, but all his wealth was taken away in the divorce.

Hence the tailored suit, the leather oxfords obtaining his feet, the bright silver diamond watch on the inside of his left wrist, along with his sleek black suede briefcase. It seemed that whomever he was married to, had gotten to keep everything including his car because it wasn’t everyday you saw a man like that on a bus like the one both the man and Alek were occupying.

Having glanced at the man long enough, she turned her attention back towards the window that occupied the right side of her body. She sighed as she watched the streets of D.C. wiz on by, though it turned into a blur as she was now lost in thought. She hadn’t even realized what was going on until the bus stopped and out yelled the bus driver, “we’re here”.

Slowly she lifted her head, expecting to be met with many faces only to be met with one and that being the driver of the bus. Getting up, she made her way to the front, thanking the burly looking man as she made her way down the steps and out into the crisp cold air. Taking a deep breath, she looked at her watch for the third time only to see it was closer to eight pm than it was to seven. Wow, a total of about two hours and she still didn’t even realized how long she had been on that bus for.

Pulling her denim jacket tighter around her body, Alek started her journey to her now almost reached destination. It took about 15 minutes to arrive, but once she had she couldn’t pull the door open any sooner. Stepping into the building she was met with warmth, the one thing her body had been lacking all day. Making her way towards the elevator she was quickly stopped short, “excuse me miss, but where are you going”.

Pivoting on a foot of hers, she looked at the woman who stopped her. “I was told to just make my way up, I’m here for a meeting”, Alek lied to the woman in front of her causing the unknown woman to bunch her eyebrows in confusion.

“Meeting with who? Im sorry but that can’t be visiting hours are over”, the small statute of the woman was now just getting on Aleks’ nerves.

Hearing the elevators open Alek started to walk backwards towards them. “My meeting”, Alek said just before taking a step back into the elevator, “is with SES Erin Strauss”. With that, she watched as the other woman’s face turned bright red. Whether it was from the fact that Alek was now standing in the elevator or the fact that Alek had a meeting with Strauss, she had no idea. And she didn’t stick around to find out as the elevator doors closed and she was now headed up towards the floor of the BAU.

Honestly, she couldn’t remember the last time she was in the FBI headquarters, but she knew that it was long ago. If her memory serves her right she hadn’t stepped foot in the building since she was in middle school. All in all it’s been almost two whole decades since Alek has seen the inside of the building and she wasn’t unhappy about it either. Before she knew it the doors to the elevator slid back open and she was now one step closer to her destination.

Walking towards the glass doors that led to the bullpen of the BAU, Alek swung it open only to be greeted by the stares of strangers. Minding no business to it, she continued her journey up the steps of the bullpen and walked down one of the long corridors that led to Strauss’ office. Stopping in front of her office, Alek raised her hand and knocked on the door lightly only to be met with a, “Come in”.

Opening the door, she shoved her body into Strauss’ office. As she was now in, Alek watched as Strauss looked up from her paperwork and pointed to the door behind Alek, “please shut the door and take a seat”.

Doing as told, she shut the door and sat herself down in one of the chairs opposite of the SES herself. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of you being here”, Alek could just see the cocky smirk Strauss had on her face the moment she got done asking Alek that question.

Shrugging her shoulders, Alek clasped her hands in front of her. “I don’t know, you tell me”, she wasn’t going to play Strauss’ game if that’s what she thought, “first the phone calls now the suv, what do you want from me Strauss”.

Taking her reading glasses off, the once cocky smirk on the SES’ face was now wiped off clean. “I didn’t want it to go that far, but how else was I suppose to get your attention? I tried calling bu-“.

Right as Erin mentioned the phone calls Alek cut her off, “The phone calls should have been enough of a clue that I didn’t want to talk, that I just wanted to be left alone”.

“Well you should have known that I wouldn’t stop just there”, by now Strauss had a pointed look on her face her eyebrows raised all the way to her hairline. Both of the woman were now just staring each other down while sitting in silence until Strauss let out a deep breath and continued from where she left off, “I want you to join the team”.

Shocked would be a pathetic word to describe the emotion that passed over Alek. She was more so bewildered, why on earth would Strauss say such a thing. “What, why”, where the only words that Alek could get out of her mouth at the moment.

“You’d be a great asset to the team, we could use someone like you especially with your background”, by now Alek still didn’t know how to process this all. As she still had yet to say anything Strauss decided it would be best to ask the woman opposite of her a question, “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it?”

The moment that question left her mouth, Alek was all too quick to respond, “I haven’t”. That seemed to shut the SES right up as she now looked flabbergasted. Shaking her head Alek stood up, her heart was racing through her chest almost caught in her throat, “I can’t do this”. Making her way towards the office door, Alek ended up practically slamming it open and hurrying down the corridor as she could feel the walls closing in on her.

Just as she was about to step on the floor of the BAU bullpen Alek was pulled back into reality as the voice of the person she was just speaking with rung out behind her, “Miss. Vultaggio, I understand that you’re going through some things right now but please give it one day, that’s all I ask”.

At this point Alek was fuming with anger, clenching her fist so tight she cut off the blood circulation only to turn around looking SES Erin Strauss point blank in the eyes. “I mean no disrespect ma’am, but going through some things?”, Alek all but spat out at the woman. “You have no idea what I’ve been through, the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve....done”, Alek had uttered that last word with what some could think was disgust. At that Alek closed her eyes trying to calm herself down before opening them up again, now calm Alek took a deep breath, “But, I’ll think about it”.

With that, Alek didn’t have the time to see the look on Strauss’ face as she just wanted to get the hell out of there. Turning back around Alek made her way towards the doors of the BAU only to catch out of the corner of her eye the stares of four people.

From the looks on their faces it seemed clear to Alek that they had caught the conversation or I guess the banter she just had with Strauss and to say that they were pleased would be an understatement. They probably have never heard anyone talk to Erin that way before as she was their superior, one that they weren’t very pleased with.

Though just as Alek was about to turn her attention back to getting out of there, she ended up catching the eye of the youngest one in the group. She could feel him profiling her as soon as their eyes met, though he wouldn’t be able to profile much as he probably had no idea where to start. Having been through enough during the day, Alek ticked her jaw in agitation and set her eyes forward again just to walk out of the BAU and back into the elevator.

Looking at her watch for what should be the last time that day, Alek slightly chuckled under her breath. How wrong she was about the time she would make it back to her apartment only just seemed to annoy her more than ever.

[doc-pickles]

the storm & the wind

Brooke is running and Alex happens to meet her along her journey. Their brief encounter might just change everything for her.

hey hi hello I am DOUBLE POSTING for some god damn reason. (i updated treacherous on AO3 for the the first time in 20 years) this was in my drafts and I felt the sudden overwhelming need to finish it today. I love this piece more than I can say and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy so I hope y’all enjoy it.

also the title comes from this quote from Little Women: You are the gull, Jo, strong and wild, fond of the storm and the wind, flying far out to sea, and happy all alone.

+

The snow crunching beneath her feet soaks into her worn Converse, a chilling reminder that she should’ve thought to grab something warmer. She makes a mental note to throw her now soaked socks over the heating vent later as she walks into the diner. It’s an old rundown place, but the gust of warm air that brushes over her face as she enters is a more than welcome feeling. Sitting at the counter she knows she should order something to eat but she can’t bring herself to ask for more than a cup of coffee when an aging waitress comes by and asks, her fingers greedily clutching the mug as she takes a sip.

“You’re not really dressed for the weather.”

The voice startles her, her grip around the cup tightening as she turns to her left. The owner of the voice can’t be much older than her, his chiseled jawline dotted with stubble and his dark hair cropped close to his head. He looks grumpy, an expression more at home on someone twice his age but the glint in his eyes keeps his youthful appearance.

“Your shoes are practically soaked through and you have a sweater on in 13-degree weather,” the stranger continues to share his thoughts, his comment prompting her to pull her cardigan tighter around herself. “I’m guessing you’re not from around here Blondie.”

The observation reminds her that the thick braid hanging over her shoulder is a bright bleach blonde instead of her natural brunette coloring. She’d hastily dyed it in a rest stop somewhere in Ohio, desperate to wash away any traces of him that she could.

“I’m from New Jersey. Well… Kind of. I’m originally from Pennsylvania.”

The words slip from her mouth before she can second-guess them. Normally she would worry about giving any identifying information out, the fear of him being able to find her consuming her mind. But she knows now that she’s far from New Jersey and the life she left behind.

“You’re from the East Coast and you didn’t pack a winter coat?”

“I forgot… I was in a rush.”

That part isn’t a total lie, she had been in a rush when she left. She had shoved as much as she could into her suitcase while he had been working, not wanting to face his anger at her sudden departure. Now though she wishes she had put more thought into what she grabbed, she’d been freezing since she left.

“Here, you look like a wet dog shivering like that,” the man slips his thick red flannel off, holding the garment out to her with an expectant look. “Cmon, I don't have fleas or anything.”

She takes the proffered jacket, only because she’s shaking just as much as he says she is. The heavy material settles on her shoulders instantly warming her. The man looks at her for a moment before turning back to his coffee, speaking as he stares at the dark liquid, “If you're from Jersey what the hell are you doing out here? Middle of nowhere Iowa isn’t exactly a tourist destination.”

“I’m starting over, running away from… something. At least I think I am. I’m not quite sure,” she toys with the sleeves of his jacket, finally looking back up at him after a moment with an accusing tone. “Why do you care anyways? Are you just trying to make sure I don’t have any concerned family members that will come looking for me after you kidnap and murder me?”

There’s a momentary pause before a peel of laughter erupts from the man, a glint taking over his dark eyes as he speaks, “Jesus, you’re really paranoid or something, huh?”

“Or something,” the words are barely a whisper, but they’re loud enough for him to hear and stop his laughter. She looks up and meets his eyes, noticing how he looks her over as if trying to figure out exactly what she’s thinking.

“I’m not trying to kill you, just trying to make conversation,” as if to prove his point he holds his hand out towards her. “I’m Alex.”

She hesitates only for a moment before settling her hand into his much larger one.

“I’m Brooke.”

+

The conversation seems easier after that, Alex talking about bringing his younger brother home after he had visited him in Seattle and Brooke talking about how she just finished her pre med degree at Princeton. They actually had a lot in common, an almost comforting feeling for her since Paul had isolated her from all her friends.

Paul.

She didn’t dare bring up her abusive husband or the horrors he had dragged her through. No, today she’s not poor defenseless Brooke Stadler whose husband can’t control his temper. Today she’s just Brooke, recent college grad who’s eating breakfast with Alex, the cute doctor with a charming smile.

“So why’d you say you’re starting over,” Alex finally broaches the subject as they both finish their meals. “I mean you just finished pre-med, that means you’re starting med school in the fall right? What are you running from? ”

Brooke shrugs, eyes falling to her now empty plate and she avoids Alex's piercing stare, “I’m supposed to start at Princeton med but now I’m not so sure. A lot has happened lately… It's complicated.”

Alex‘s hand reaches out for her arm, the move causing her to jump slightly. An embarrassed blush paints itself on her cheeks as Alex searches her eyes, almost as if he knows what she’s thinking about. He seems to brush the thought off quickly though as he continues to prod at her.

“Well… Did you get in anywhere else? It’s not too late to change your mind,” Alex shrugged as if sensing Brooke’s discomfort with the situation. “I was supposed to do my residency at the hospital down the street before I switched to Seattle at the last minute. Best thing I probably could’ve done for myself.”

“Well… I got into Harvard too. But I’m not sure,” there’s hesitation lacing her voice when she knows there shouldn’t be. Her mind is swirling, thinking about the fact that she could always go back to him. “I don’t know, I was thinking about going back home.”

Alex scoffs, the small noise causing Brooke to stare at him intensely, “You're not going back home, that’s a load of crap.”

“What makes you so sure about that? You don’t know anything about me.”

There’s a pause as Alex takes a sip of his coffee, a deliberate distraction as he attempts to string together the right words, “Well that black eye isn’t hidden as well as you think it is. And you jumped about a mile in the air when I first started talking to you. So I’m assuming you’re not running from something but someone. Did I get it right?”

Brooke’s fingers froze around her mug, eyes watering as she stared blankly at the dark liquid swirling inside. She pushes down the uncomfortable lump forming in her throat, trying to convince her nerves that Alex was just observant and not a threat.

“My husband… he has a temper,” eyes still focused on the coffee instead of Alex, Brooke found it marginally easier to talk about the real reason she was sitting in a diner in Iowa. “I just knew, the last time he… I just knew if he did it again he would kill me. So when he went to work I grabbed as much as I could and I got in my car and I drove. I don’t think I stopped for almost five hours, not really knowing where I was going. I just knew I had to keep going, that I couldn’t live like that any longer.”

The sounds of the diner around them are all Brooke can hear as her truth settles in the air, Alex taking in everything she’d ungraciously word vomited out. When he finally does speak again, there’s no tell tale tone of pity in his voice that she’d been anticipating.

“My dad was the same way, but my mom never had it in her to run. She was pretty messed up herself,” Brooke looks up at the stranger next to her as a small chuckle breaks through his serious tone. “She wouldn’t run so I had to raise my siblings, I had to make sure we all stayed alive. So I get it, why you’re running. And for what it’s worth, I think you should keep running.”

Swiping at the tears that had collected under her eyelashes Brooke thought about Alex’s words, “He's gonna find me, I know he will.”

“Screw him,” Alex scoffs, taking a swig of his coffee before continuing. “Go to Harvard, change your name, live your life. I promise you, you’ll regret it if you turn around and go back. You have a chance, a real chance, to change your life. Don’t let that slip away.”

There’s a beat of silence as Alex’s encouragement settles deep within Brooke’s chest. The man was a stranger in every sense of the word but somehow his whole hearted belief in her encouraged her to keep moving forward.

“Think of it this way, you get to start a brand new life, no strings attached,” Alex continues. “You can pick something cool! Something that means something. Like… One of those sisters from the book where their dad is away at war?”

“Little Women?”

“Yeah that one,” Brooke laughs at Alex’s statement, causing him to roll his eyes. “Oh shut up, my sister was obsessed with it and made me read it like a hundred times. But all those sisters were badasses, you could use one of those names. Like Amy or Beth. Well no she dies… How about Jo! You definitely look like a Jo to me.”

Brooke’s nose scrunches up at the names, causing both of them to laugh as Alex comes up with ridiculous suggestions. A flood of relief washes over Brooke as the two continue to talk. It had been a long time since she’d let her guard down around someone and just been herself.

A while later she excuses herself to the bathroom, a flash of disappointment striking her when she comes back to an empty seat. Her bill that had been sitting on the counter was paid, the receipt turned over and messy scrawl covering the back.

‘Keep running.’

-

So she does, Brooke keeps running and running and running and she doesn’t stop. In fact, when the running doesn’t feel like enough anymore she takes up actual running to calm her mind.

She runs every morning, at least two miles to clear her head and to keep herself sane. The days she misses her run are filled with overwhelming thoughts and anxiety that courses through her veins so quickly that it feels like a river crashing over her nervous system. She changes her name, cuts her hair, goes to Harvard and graduates top of her class. Every movement, every breath feels like she’s just moving towards the end of a never ending trail. But she keeps going, she keeps running because it’s all she can do.

When she gets accepted into Seattle Grace, one of the best hospitals in the country that puts thousands of miles between her and her past, it finally feels like a breath of fresh air, like relief is on the horizon. So she leaves Boston, leaves the east coast and everything familiar and finally feels like she might be able to stop running.

Seattle is different, it’s new and unexpected and perfect. It’s the first place where her name feels like it’s truly hers even though she’d lived with it now for almost seven years. Her first morning in her new apartment she goes for a run and finds herself looking over the Seattle harbor with a wide smile on her face. She’s a doctor now, something she’s worked towards her whole life it seems, but now it seems so real.

And then she gets put onto a Peds rotation and her heart seems to stop beating in her chest. Because her attending, Doctor Karev, is someone who’s appeared in her mind almost everyday since the first time she met him. His face, albeit a bit younger, is the one that appears when she thinks she can’t go on any longer.

“You mind?”

Alex’s voice brings her back from her daze, the same one that echoes her footfalls as she chases an adrenaline high every morning. She shakes her head in a futile attempt to clear it, “Sorry.”

“Why are you following me,” there’s an annoyed tone to his voice as she mimics his brisk pace down the hallway. She’d heard horror stories about him, about how rude and mean he was but she never would've guessed it was him.

“I'm your intern for the day.”

“Oh. Well, hello, intern,” Alex side eyes her, not really taking her in. “You have a name?”

“Jo. Jo Wilson,” it’s probably the fiftieth time she's said her name out loud since coming to Seattle but this time it feels different.

There’s a pause and Alex turns to take her in once more, as if he had missed something the first time he’d looked. She almost thinks he’ll say something, but he just shrugs and returns to tying his trauma gown, “Oh, nice. I like chicks with boys' names.”

The moment that she thought was there was gone and she stared at her shoelaces as Alex and Doctor Torres prattled on about something. She figures she should be grateful that he didn’t recognize her, that the seven years and the constant self improvement she’d put into herself had paid off. Still, her heart sunk as she realized that the man that had pushed her to keep running, to change her life, didn’t remember her.

-

Their story isn’t easy, in fact it’s one of the hardest things she’s ever been through. But there’s not a single ounce of hesitation or regret in her body when she wakes up every morning next to him. She’s always up before him, solely so she can get her run in before he wakes. By the time she comes back and showers, his eyes are sleepily staring up at her and his arms are reaching out for her like she’d been gone longer than a quick jog.

Alex is the person she’d needed, the one who pushed her to be better and made her feel like she didn’t need to change anything about herself. But the need to run, to keep running still hammered in her chest right under her heartbeat. She figured it would always sit there, the constant anxiety that her past might catch up with her if she stopped running.

When Paul shows up, all she wants is Alex. Before Seattle she would've run, would’ve been gone before anyone could blink to miss her. But now she wants nothing more than to curl up in Alex’s arms and never leave. She knows there’s more that needs to be done though, knows there’s more to the fight and that she needs to keep running this last little bit.

It’s not until she sees her ex husband laying in a hospital bed brain dead that Jo finally feels like she can breathe again, like she can stop fighting and just be. The breath of relief that washes over her as Alex runs his hand down her back feels like a thousand pound weight being lifted off her shoulders.

“I was pregnant.”

There’s a pause and she can feel Alex tense next to her, his hand on her back slowing as his eyes bore into her. She wishes she could stop but the words have been dying to slip out for the past six years that she’s been with him.

“The day we met, I was pregnant,” she turns to look at him, tears shining in her eyes. He doesn’t look shocked, not as shocked as he would’ve been if he didn’t know too. “I almost turned around and went back to him and raised a baby with him but I didn’t. The only reason I didn’t was because of this cocky asshole I met in a shitty diner who convinced me to start over. You’re the reason I kept running, the reason I didn’t go back. Whenever I doubted myself I heard your voice, the voice of a complete stranger mind you, in the back of my head telling me to keep running. You... you’re the reason I’m alive.”

Alex keeps his gaze on her for a minute, not daring to look away as they both realize that the other has known. Through the years of their relationship, since their second meeting in the very halls of this hospital they’ve both known exactly who the other is.

“You did all of that by yourself, you just needed a little push,” Alex brings her close again, his lips brushing against her forehead as she folds herself into his side. She’s crying full on now, her chest shaking as she finally lets herself stop running and lets the pent up emotions of the past few days wash over her. “I knew you could do it, I’m glad you did.”

Her tears don’t stop for a few days as she comes to terms with the fact that there’s no longer a need for her to run. In fact a few days later as she’s on her morning jog she stops and takes the deepest breath she feels she’s ever taken. As she leans on her knees she takes in the feeling of air freely flowing through her lungs, the exhilaration coursing through her body akin to what she thinks completing a marathon must feel like. Her eyes scan the Seattle harbor, taking in the sunrise as she breathes heavily and lets the day settle in around her. She'd run her race, she’d run it longer and faster and better than she’d thought she was capable of and finally, finally, she had finished.

[hallowscandlewrites]

The Lovers Club (It AU ReaderxAll the Guys)

The Lovers Club (It AU ReaderxBill,Richie,Ben,Eddie,Stanley,Mike)

Warning: Non-con, a little bit of dominate & submissive stuff, erotica themes. They are not kids in this fic. 

Summary: Reader has moved to Derry, Maine to care for her elderly grandmother. As an outsider all her life, y/n assumed Derry would be another place she wouldn’t fit in. However, she meet’s a group of young men (early/mid twenty’s) that secretly call themselves “The Lovers Club”. It’s not the type of club where they read books or make crafts, the “Lovers Club” is filled with pleasure & experiences that y/n never thought she’d have; the problem is, some of the men start getting possessive, they want her to be theirs, only theirs.

       The library was nearly empty. And that was how y/n liked it. She has only been in Derry for a week but has already found her favorite spot to be. Other than the suspicious looks from the librarian, y/n felt like the library was one of the two places she belonged; the other being the corner house, painted pink and purple flowers, it was an oddity in Derry, the color pallet here was grays, browns and greens.  Y/n was odd herself, mostly because she was new and in a small town like this, you know everybody but nobody knew her. 

    Y/n reminded herself that she only had a few hours before her she has to make dinner for her family, which was just her and her grandmother. Immediately, y/n went to the mystery section where the world of the unknown waited for her to get her hands on it. However, she wasn’t the only one with that idea. A young man was pulling out various books from the dusty shelves. 

    “Hello.” He looked at y/n and showed a shy smile. He was handsome with blondish, brunet hair and dark eyes. 

   A rush of heat filled y/n’s cheeks, and she looked at the ground, “Hey...”, the girl said as she began to observe the books. 

  While she wasn’t paying attention, the young man (Ben) scanned y/n from head to toe while her back was turned to him. Instantly, he thought she was cute; the shy way she pushed past him, the rose-red color her face turned. It reminded him of himself during his childhood, the way he’d stare longingly at a certain red-haired vixen that has since been long-gone. 

   Before Ben thought more, he blurted, “So what’s your name?” to the girl. She turned to him, her eyes wide. She fumbled with the few books she had in her hand, shaken by the sudden intrusion. 

  “Y/n..... L/n.” She said, smiling.

     Ben took a few seconds. Her last name did sound familiar but he couldn’t add anything up until.....

  “The pink house with the crazy purple flowers! That old woman who lives there....is she...” Ben trailed off, expecting y/n to fill in the obvious blanks. 

  “My grandmother? Yes, yes she is.” Y/N answered, slightly hoping that would be the end of the conversation but it wasn’t because Ben didn’t want it to be.

  “Well I’m Ben Hanscom.” Ben wanted to shake her hand or something but they both had a stack of books in their arms. 

     They spoke for an hour, getting to know a little bit about each-other. Ben was more of an open-book with y/n, where-as she.....held back. Ben thought, when he’d asked about her family and all she talked about was her grandmother and avoided mentioning anyone else. Otherwise, they had much in common. She reminded him of some of the guys and he reminded her of the elderly woman that was waiting for her at home. His attention was fully on her and although, in the past, that usually made her uncomfortable, it was rather nice with Ben Hanscom. 

  “I have to get back home now but it was nice meeting you.” Y/n said, grateful but in a hurry. 

    Before she could go, Ben grabbed her hand. “Please meet me here tomorrow! Same time.” He asked, his big, pleading eyes, glossed with comfort & kindness. 

  “I..I-I don’t know. Maybe.” She curtly said, rushing away and tightly holding herself around her torso. Her heart thumped excitingly. 

  Ben watched her leave, eyes narrowed at the new girl who’s captured his attention in a very short time. He would have to be careful though, because if his friends found out he had a girl all to himself.....they’d take her too.

   Y/n made a simple dinner for her and her grandmother. The elderly woman pressed intrusive questions at the table, asking why her grand-daughter had been smiling like a fool when she got home, why the young girl was too shaky to eat; why she had a dreamy, far off look in her eye during the majority of the meal. Y/n shook off the questions but couldn’t hide her buzz, physically. All she said was that maybe she’d made a friend, something y/n thought difficult to do as an adult. Sleep that night came later than sooner; it wasn’t just her nervous eating her up about the next day, it was the old couch that y/n had to sleep on that she was still getting use to. There wasn’t a second bedroom.

  The next day after hours of restless tossing and turning, y/n got up and got ready to do some errands. Her first stop, was to pick up some prescription drugs for grandma and some other items too. Finding the corner drug store was easy, but when y/n arrived, two men were leaning by the front door; chatting amongst themselves as if they weren’t blocking the way.

  “Excuse me....I-I need to get in, please.” Y/n asked, forcing herself to took the two men in the eyes.

   The shorter of the two men backed away kindly but the other with dark, bushy hair and thick glasses stood there, observing the girl as if she’d interrupted something important. 

  “Richie, come on! Let’s go get something to eat.” The shorter guy said, tugging the jacket covered arm of his pal. 

  Richie just stared at y/n but not with contempt, annoyance yes but something else, curiosity. “She stutter’s just like Bill. Funny.” Richie stepped away from the door, put an arm around his friends’ shoulder as they walked away, uninterested after-all. 

 Okay, that was weird, y/n thought, stepping into the drug store. 

     After that, y/n headed back her to grandmother’s to deliver the medicine then it’d be time to meet up with Ben. The thought of him sent a bolt of shivers down her back, the way he looked at her as if he’d discovered buried treasure. Y/n had boyfriends and a girlfriend or two but she still wasn’t a pro at dating. Her shyness always got the better of her and who ever she was with, got bored. Y/n wanted to do more things in her love life but it was as if there was an invisible wall that kept her from really touching her lover. 

      In the pink house decorated with purple flowers, in a rocking chair sat Y/n’s grandmother who had a book in her hands, the tv on as background noise. 

   “Here’s your stuff, remember to take it before dinner. I’m going to the library for a few hours and then I’ll be back, is that alright?” Y/n asked, crouching down to meet her family member’s eyes. 

  The elderly woman shook her head, “You’re an adult, you don’t have to ask me permission to go out, y/n. I’ll be fine but I would like to ask who you’ll be meeting?” 

   The smirk on her grandmother’s face said everything about how quickly she catches on. But y/n did not want to tell the truth, because y/n was here to take care of her family, not date, not make friends; the young woman didn’t even know how long she’d be in Derry, anyway.

   “Nobody, I promise. I just like the library a lot. Back home, ours closed down long ago so it’s nice to come to a place where you have one at all.” Y/n said. It wasn’t a total lie, the library she went to as a kid did close down about ten years ago which left a younger and smaller y/n disappointed. 

 Y/n walked, trying to keep a medium pace. She didn’t want to seem to excited or desperate to meet a man she just met yesterday. For all she knows, he could have lied as a cruel joke. 

   The library was an older building, not fancy, it was plain, with barely any decoration or posh detailing. It’s drab appearance fit in with the rest of the town, slightly run-down but rich in community and history. Y/n stood at the bottom of the steps, unable to move forward as if the invisible wall had planted itself between the building and her. Y/n forced a foot forward as the only way to get where she wanted to be,  a surge of confidence ripping through her as she entered the library doors; but all confidence drained from her when she spotted Ben at one of the tables, a stack of books next to him. None of them were being read. Ben had been waiting, as he checked his wrist watch and glanced around. 

    Y/n wanted to walk out and forget this meet-up. Thinking it makes her crazy to think this handsome guy was waiting for her. He didn’t even know her. But it was too late because a second later, Ben saw Y/n standing by the door. A big smile crossing his face, as he waved in a short notion. 

    Y/n met the young man at the table where he gestured for her to sit down.

   “Thanks for coming. I’ll be honest and say I don’t actually have a plan but I guess we can take it slow.” Ben admitted, his eyes darting to Y/n’s chest and them immediately back up to her face. 

  Y/n pretended not to notice, she was nervous too, she thought and didn’t want to judge but couldn’t help but think the deepness in his dark eyes held something more....sinister, something he was trying to tame and keep quiet like an animal inside his own mind. 

  “You’re just fine, what books did you-” She was unable to finish her question when a handful of men appeared out of no where, around the table.

   “Ben! Remember our plan! What are you doing here?” The curly haired boy with thick glasses asked. Y/n couldn’t help but think about how she’s seen him before. 

  Unfamiliar faces surrounded the table as well, each of them darting their attention from Ben to Y/n. 

     Ben adjusted in his chair, his eyebrows narrowed and he sighed. “I’m sorry I forgot about our plans.” He said, his voiced edged with anger.

   “I remember you from yesterday. You’re that girl. Eddie, its that girl from yesterday.’ Richie mocked, elbowing the shorter man near him who rolled his eyes. 

  “Yeah well come on. Bill and Mike are waiting at the house.” Riche said, grabbing Ben’s shoulder to make him stand.

  Ben grabbed the table, he looked at Y/n with an apologetic expression. He didn’t want to leave and Y/n didn’t understand why he didn’t just say no.

  “I don’t think he want’s to leave, guys.” Y/n said, her voice barely above a whisper but they heard her.  

  The air was thick is the seconds of silence that followed; whatever wasn’t being said made it seem like there was an invisible wall between all of them. But richie was the first to speak up.

  “May I remind you Ben, what happens when you break our rules. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to see your girlfriend here face the consequences of you actions for you. I think Bill would LOVE to have a girl in the group for the first time in years, don’t you think?” Richie said, putting a tight arm around Ben’s shoulders. 

    Ben thrashed out of his chair, pushing Richie away. He looked at Y/n with glassy eyes, his the corners of his lips turned down . Richie was smiling as Ben walked away with the group of boys except Richie himself and his best friend, Eddie. Richie turned his attention to Y/n, his eyes laced with malice. 

   “Don’t hang around here too much sweetheart.” Richie suggested, walking closer to y/n whose leg backs’ were stopped by a chair; she couldn’t go any further without tripping.

 “Unless you’d like to find out what we’d do to you, then by all means follow along.” Richie turned away and grabbed Eddie’s hand as they walked out of the library, leaving Y/n alone and confused. 

Later that night while her grandmother was her cat on the couch, Y/n forced herself to ask her grandmother about the strange young men she’d encountered earlier. 

  “Do you know who Ben Hanscom is grandma?” Y/n asked, taking a seat on the couch. 

  Her grandmother kept brushing the cat, “Oh that young man is actually pretty nice. I use to talk to his mother a lot; he was a chubby little thing but he’s grown quite handsome.”

  Y/n smiled, knowing that if her grandmother liked him then maybe things weren’t as weird as they seemed. “That’s great but what about his friends? Are there gangs here?” Y/n asked.

  Her grandmother stopped brushing the cat and looked at Y/n as if she just said something terrible while setting the brush on her side table. “Why are you asking about those boys? Did they harass you or something? Listen to me, Ben ain’t bad but those fellow men he hangs out with are trouble. They aren’t criminals, but they’re....dangerous I think. You don’t need to be around them, promise me you’ll stay away?” 

 “I can stay away.” Y/n said, not completely sure she meant that. 

  It took Y/n a few hours to decide if going into the deep end of this was worth it or not. I made her stomach bubble, flashes of heat touched her forehead and the invisible wall stayed still. All the signs were pointing to this being a bad idea, that Ben was one man in a town full of people just like him. However, maybe there wasn’t anyone like Ben. Others would look at Y/n and whisper to the next person or they’d just ignore her completely but Ben didn’t hesitate to let her in. Maybe it’d be wise to talk to Ben, away from those other men.

 Tomorrow. She’ll find him tomorrow and they’ll talk.

   The next day was bleak. Dark grey skies and heavy rain made Y/n grab her rain-coat, a yellow slicker that she got from the thrift store when she moved here. Nobody was on the streets, which was unusual for Derry, Saturday afternoon. Y/n made her way to the library but Ben wasn’t there and didn’t know where he would be; she really didn’t know anything about him so why was she wasting her own time trying to find this guy. But as she made her way out of the library, she ran into a familiar face; the smaller man that was always with Richie. Today he was by himself. 

  The two stared at each-other. Unlike Richie this guy didn’t look at her like he wanted fight her, he looked inconvenienced and.....sorry?

  “I don’t know where Ben is. He’s probably at home but I’m not sure. You should probably listen to Richie and stay away from us.” He said, brushing past Y/n like she was nothing.

  The woman got irate. She snapped as she gripped the arm of the stupid man and pulled him back in front of her. The rage diffused when she looked at his face and the general disdain in his narrowed eyes. His brows furrowed and he stepped back from Y/n but yet he couldn’t help but feel excited. Her touch did something to him and maybe that’s why Ben almost ditched the group yesterday for her. The group hadn’t had a newcomer in years and any candidates were liabilities. This woman however, Y/n, Ben had called her during the ‘meeting’ yesterday, could be the missing piece they needed. 

  It’s selfish, Eddie thought but he knew what he needed to do to test out his theory. “I’m Eddie, Ben’s friend. I don’t know where he is but we all usually meetup at our other friends house for some fun on Saturday night’s. Would you like to join us? There’ll be drinks and good-looking men.” Eddie finished with the childish smile that most people fall for.  

  Y/n hesitated. She’d have to call grandma and explain that she’d be late for dinner. Maybe, making some friends wouldn’t be terrible while she was here.

  “Yeah, I’ll go.”  Y/n stated. Eddie reached out his hand and Y/n took it. Eddie walked this girl to Bill Denbrough’s home. Bill was their leader. And Eddie was praying that Bill liked the new member he’d present to him. A young, naive woman who’d need to be taught some lessons; she’d need to be broken in. As to which person in the group would do that? They’ll know tonight.

  They walked in without knocking, and Eddie told Y/n to sit on the couch. She noticed that it sounded more like  a demand and not a question which made Y/n hesitate to sit but Eddie’s hard glare sent shivers down her spine and she sat.

  “Bill, It’s Eddie! I’ve got something to show you!” Eddie yelled up the stairs.

    Seconds later, footsteps came pounding down. A tall, handsome man came into the living room, clenching a ball of paper in one hand. “I’m busy doing work for the news paper.” 

 Eddie cleared his throat, “This is Y/n. I thought you’d want to meet her. maybe...” Eddie shrunk under Bill’s gaze. He couldn’t meet his leader’s eyes.

   Bill looked at Y/n. The woman was cute but that wouldn’t be enough for her to fit in. She looked at her feet while swinging her legs like a child. Bill rolled his eyes ready to dismiss her but a second glance caught an interesting detail. The yellow coat she wore reminded him of a terrible time. A memory that makes his heart ache and burn; that makes his brain pound his skull from the inside. 

  “Where’d you get that - that coat you’re wearing?” Bill stuttered, something he hasn’t done in years.

  “A thrift store, why?” Y/n asked, slightly scared by Bill’s anger. She wondered if he’s always like this but by Eddie’s raised eyebrows and the distance he put between him and Bill, makes her think not.

 Bill rushed over to Y/n and gripped the color of the coat forcing Y/n forward. “Take it off, right fucking now!” Bill yelled.

  Eddie stood in place, “Bill calm down. I thought she’d be interesting for you to meet because she’s the reason Ben almost didn’t show up yesterday.” Eddie confessed, his eyes darting between Bill and Y/n. 

   Bill looked her up and down, and smirked. He was still angry but something else now fueled him, determination. If she was the reason the usually loyal Ben lied to the group then he’d make and example of her then. Oh yeah she could be the new member of the group and in a few hours, Ben will see why he shouldn’t lie to his friends.

  Y/n jerked back onto the couch then began to sit up, “I need to go. I’m sorry if I disturbed you...” She said stepping towards the front door.

  “Sit back down. You’re not going anywhere.” Bill grabbed Y/n’s coat again and flung her onto the coach.

  “Sit there and be good for a few hours alright? If you don’t we’ll have to punish you, harder.” Bill said with each arm placed on either side of the woman’s head.

  Hours later, a few other men arrived; all of which y/n has seen before. There was Mike, Stanley Eddie, Bill and Richie. Richie glared at her awhile, making snide comments here or there at her while she desperately searched for Ben who had yet to show up. 

  Richie looked out the window “Guys he’s here!” He yelled. 

  Bill nodded at Richie who grabbed Y/n by the arm, “You’re coming with me sweetheart.” Richie said, leading Y/n upstairs. 

  Y/n tried to struggle out of Richie’s grasp but he held on to her tighter. “If you don’t stop, I swear it’ll just be worse for you.” He tugged her all the way to a master bedroom and threw her on the floor.

   They had been followed by a group of footsteps and guys yelling at each other. Ben entered the room first and when he saw Y/n on the floor, he had Richie pinned against a wall.

  “What the fuck are you thinking, bringing her into this! She did nothing wrong!” Ben was furious, his grip on Richie tightened as he pressed his friend further into the wall. 

 Bill cleared his throat, “You lied to us Ben and you know what happens when you lie to your friends. Show him Richie.” 

Richie released himself from Ben’s grip and got on his knee’s next to Y/n. She knew she was in trouble. All the men were staring at her, some of the amused or hungry. Ben was held back by Mike and Stanley.  Richie grabbed onto the girls’ clothes and started taking them off. Y/n slapped his hands away and backed into the wall but she was caught by Richie who pulled her legs back closer to him. 

  “Stop messing around or I’ll just fuck you harder.” Richie said, not taking his eyes off her body.

  Tears brimmed Y/n’s eyes. She thrashed around, refusing to let this happen to her but it did no good. Richie and Bill seemed turned on by her resistance. And Richie finished peeling off the last bit of clothes she had on, revealing her soft flesh colored mounds that she covered with her arms. 

  “Grab her wrists, I want to see her body.” Bill demanded and Richie complied with a smile.

  Richie hands firmly held Y/n’s wrists as he undid his pants. The rest of the group was in awe. They hadn’t had a girl in so long that Y/n was a miraculous sight. Her feminine curves, her lush hair and pouty lips made their knee’s weak but they all stood still, ready to watch the show.

  Richie was mesmerized by Y/n too which made him angrier. Richie looked at Eddie whose eyes were only on Y/n. Richie dug his nails into the girls skin as he prepared to enter her; he placed a hand by her face and caressed her, long enough that he could enter her with a hard thrust. He closed his eyes as he felt the luxury she was. Y/n just cried out by the rough penetration. She was no virgin but she’d never been taken like this.

 Richie opened his eyes to the pretty girl beneath him, in pain. He pouted, some part of him was guilty but he enjoyed this lifestyle and he enjoyed being dominate. He started to move in her, the wave of comfort he felt with this girl did not co-exist peacefully with the side of him that wanted to ravish her into tomorrow. He sped up his thrusting, hitting her harder while his hands travelled up and down her body. Some of her cries turned into low moans and Richie wanted to her more of her, so he went faster.

 Richie’s mouth found one of her nipples and he began to suck the delicate area while she shuddered beneath him. Richie began to groan loudly while Y/n’s moans became more clear. She grabbed onto his back and held him while his hands gripped her hips in way that’ll leave a bruise. He continued to pound into Y/n until he felt the surge to end, if he went any longer, he wouldn’t have a choice; but he didn’t care and kept riding with her until he was done. 

  Both of them laid silently as Richie let every last drop of his cum dispose into Y/n. The guilt, still present didn’t top the satisfaction he felt from taking her however as he got up, the realization hit Y/n like a truck. What had just happened to her was unimaginable but here she was, naked with a man she barely knows on-top of her. 

 The tears fell without permission and Y/n tried to hide them with her hands. Everybody saw it but they put their pleasure before her being and turned the other way. Richie looked down at her and couldn’t exactly determine what he was feeling as she cried and he didn’t like it.

  “Pathetic.” Richie called Y/n. He grabbed his clothes and rushed out of the room not ever looking back.

 Bill strode to her, satisfied that the introduction of the newest member of the club turned out well. He’d have fun with this girl, they all would. Fuck her over and over again and she’d have to get use to it.

 Bill leaned down to Y/n. Her eyes were pleading but he wasn’t going to help her. “Welcome to The Lover’s Club.” Bill said, smirking.

  Y/n didn’t know what to think or what to say. She laid there hoping this was all a nightmare but it was real. And it would become her life.

[adenei]

I love to read Ron/Harry/George/Bill/Ginny/Charlie/Percy moments with canon pairings. Could you please write another one where Ron is the main focus. I love Angst but everything else is of course fine too🙂 I just love the bond between them all. You write them so beautifully 😍

Hi anon! Thank you! So this one is very much Romione, with a lot of Ron focus, but I kind of switch back and for the between him and Hermione. Lots of angst. Basically, I combined this with @my-patronus-is-a-champagne-glass‘s prompt she sent me for “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get my drink and leave you alone in your bad mood. I’m sure you’ll find someone better than me.”

The middle part is for you anon, with a lovely Ron + George sibling moment. I hope you enjoy!

Thanks for the ask :)

*****************************************

Misreading the Signs 

They were at the Hog’s Head. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and George. It was early June, and Hermione didn’t know what to do anymore. She figured the immense grief and loss of Fred was more than Ron could handle, so she chalked their stalemate of a relationship to that. It’d been a month and he hadn’t said anything about the kiss during the battle, and Hermione wanted to give him the space he needed to try and recover from everything that had happened.

Hell, she needed time herself to process everything. To figure out what it meant to be alive now. And to make a plan to find her parents. She was leaving in a week. It took a while to create a plan and to obtain help from the Ministry to get there without giving away what exactly she’d done. Ron had mentioned wanting to go with her a while back. Once. Only once. She’d mentioned the plans to him earlier that day and he didn’t really respond. 

She wanted him to go with her, but didn’t want to force him into going if he felt like he needed to be home. Maybe Harry would go. Or even Ginny. No, Mrs. Weasley would never allow that. So, she’d go alone if she had to. Hermione was sure she could figure out how to work alone again. After all, that’s what she’d spent the first twelve years of her life doing. 

Her physical wounds from the war had finally healed. Even the nightmares were becoming less and less. But she still hurt. Her heart hurt so much from thinking and hoping they’d finally been on the brink of something. She’d kissed him. He’d kissed her. Not to mention all those stolen moments at Shell Cottage where it felt like there was a heavy wave of something unspoken between them, and the hope that just maybe they could have something more. 

Hermione was abruptly brought back to the present when she heard giggling coming from the other side of Ron. Some witch had come over to their table. Hermione was used to that. They couldn’t really go anywhere without being recognized, but Aberforth was normally pretty good about keeping people away. But this girl, she was...she was...coming onto Ron. Flirting with him. And Ron was actually smiling, and laughing. He was playing into it like she wasn’t even there. Like she didn’t mean a damn thing to him.

It made Hermione sick. She didn’t notice the concerned looks that Harry and Ginny were giving her, and even George was looking at Ron, questioning what he was playing at. The girl finally slipped Ron a piece of paper and walked away to join her friends. Ron turned back to the rest of the group and noticed them looking at him. 

“What?” he asked them.

“What do you mean what?” George retorted. “What was all that about?”

“She just wanted to thank us for everything we did in the battle. You know, how we saved the world and all?”

“Then why was she only talking to you?” Ginny asked her brother.

“Does it really matter? It was nothing,” Ron said.

Hermione couldn’t hold it in any longer. “It was NOT nothing. She clearly wanted more than to come over here and thank you. Maybe you should go join her and her friends, since she clearly wants to go home with you tonight.” Harry opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. Ginny and George watched silently, hoping their brother wouldn’t do something stupid. 

“Oh, come off it, Hermione! I can get attention, too, you know.” Ron scoffed.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” she asked as she glared at him.

“Like I haven’t noticed how blokes swooned over you the last time we went out in Muggle London?” Ron shot back. 

Hermione looked at him and tried to think of what he was referring to. She remembered some guys cat calling her as they were walking down the road, and then one tried to buy her a drink, but she politely declined and dismissed him. She never even acted like she was interested. How could he even compare that to what was happening now?

“I don’t need to take this. From any of you!” He gestured to the rest of them. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get my drink and leave you alone in your bad mood. I’m sure it won’t take long for you to find someone better than me.” Ron shoved his chair back, grabbed his drink and walked away. George watched him head towards the bar and got up to go after him. 

Hermione didn’t even bother to look as she tried to control the tears that were threatening in her eyes. How could she have been so stupid. Thinking that everything they’d gone through in the past year had made them stronger. Brought them closer together. She got up and ran to the loo, where she apparated away once the door had closed behind her. 

****************

George sidled up next to his brother at the bar. Aberforth eyed them and then walked to the other side of the bar to give them some space. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” George rounded on him.

“Go away George. I didn’t do anything.” Ron said, trying to turn to ignore his brother.

“Like hell it’s not! Ron, that girl came over and pretty much all but said, ‘hey, hot stuff, take me home and have your way with me,’ and you played into it! In front of Hermione!” George was in complete and utter disbelief at what was happening.

“So? It’s not like Hermione and I are even together.” Ron said without looking at George.

“And why the hell not? Harry told me she kissed you during the battle. Fucking hell, Ron, Fred and I gave you that bloody book to help you! And time and time again you keep ruining whatever sodding chance you’ve got!” It wasn’t lost on George or Ron that he’d mentioned Fred, but neither dwelled on it. 

“Yeah, but it was probably a bloody pity kiss. ‘Oh, we’ll probably be dead by the morning, might as well do this now.’ She hasn’t said a damn thing about it since then. She clearly didn’t mean it.”

“Are you fucking mental? Have you ever once thought that maybe she’s waiting for you to make the next move? Ron, she put the bloody quaffle on your pitch! Did you even read that book?”

“Of course I’ve read the book! What more do I have to say to her? I come running anytime I hear the slightest whimper from her when she’s sleeping to comfort her! I told her I wanted to go with her to Australia. She hasn’t said a word about any of it until today. She’s leaving next week. What more can I say to her?” Ron finally looked at George, who saw the desperation in his brother’s eyes. 

“Tell her you love her! Or don’t, and just kiss her instead. Ron, you’re going to fuck everything up if neither of you say anything.”

“And if she rejects me because she doesn’t feel the same way? I’ve ignored her for a month, what if she’s given up? What then? I don’t want to lose her, so if it means just being friends that I get to keep her in my life, then I’m bloody fine with that.” Ron spat back.

George took a deep breath. “All’s I can say to you right now is you better be thanking Merlin that it’s me who’s here right now and not Fred because he’d have hexed you into tomorrow for how thick you’re being.” Ron looked at him. 

“Yeah, I know what I bloody said, but it’s true. It was his idea to give you the book, he’s the one who picked up on the fact that you fancied her and had no clue of what to do about it. Maybe it was because he felt guilty about turning your teddy into a spider when we were little, or maybe he just wanted to finally be a good brother, but he cared enough to want to see you happy with her. I do, too, of course, but you’ve got to get your head out of your arse and grow a pair. 

“Go find her. And if you can’t tell her how you feel, then at least insist on going with her. Don’t take no for an answer. And for the love of Merlin burn that bloody paper that other girl gave you!”

Ron stared at his brother, letting the words sink in. Never in a million years would he have thought there would be a day when he’d have to admit that George was right. And Fred, for that matter. Nor did he think his twin brothers would ever truly have his back with no tricks involved. He threw the paper on the bar, and George took it, shredding it into tiny pieces. Ron turned to look back at the table, and noticed that Hermione and Ginny were both gone. 

He got up and headed back over to Harry, and George followed. Ron didn’t have to say anything because Harry gave him a look that said, ‘she’s gone.’ 

“Go,” George said to his brother. “Harry and I will cover the tab. Just find her.” Ron nodded and headed for the door.

****************************

“Hermione?” Ginny had entered the bathroom of the Hog’s Head, only to find it empty. “Shit,” she said under her breath as she went back to the table. 

Harry looked up at her. “No luck?” Ginny shook her head. 

“I need to go back to the Burrow. Can you side-along me?”

“Sure, but then I should come back and make sure George doesn’t need backup,” Harry said as they hurried down the hall to the bathroom. 

“Do you think they’ll ever sort it out?” Ginny asked him.

“I hope so. It’s funny, it terrified me when I first realized that they felt that way about each other. If they fell apart, where would that leave the three of us? But this, watching them like this, it’s torture. They need to be together. They’re just so…”

“Right for each other?” Ginny finished.

“Yeah. Let’s get you back to find Hermione before she does something stupid, and I can get back to prevent the same thing with Ron.” 

Ginny took Harry’s arm as they apparated back to the Burrow. He gave her a quick kiss before he returned back to the Hog’s Head as Ginny hurried to the house. 

She walked in to find her mum and dad at the kitchen table, looking concerned. “She’s upstairs, dear,” Molly said as Ginny nodded and made her way to her bedroom. She knew now was not the time to ask questions.

Ginny walked into her room to find Hermione frantically shoving things into her beaded bag by her camp bed. “Hermione?”

Hermione sniffed back her tears. “Ginny, I- I know this is your room and all, but can I just be alone please?”

“Not until you tell me what you’re doing with the bag,” Ginny said sternly.

“I can’t stay here anymore. Ron clearly can’t stand me, and I can’t keep waiting around and hoping he’s going to come around! It hurts too much, Ginny.” Hermione’s tears rolled faster down her face.

“And where do you think you’re going to go? Dad and Bill haven’t checked your parent’s house to see if it’s safe yet! You’re not supposed to leave for Australia for another week. I know it’s awkward, but you have to stay, Hermione.”

Hermione looked at Ginny, knowing that she was right. She set the bag down. “I’m still going to owl Kingsley and see if he can push my departure date up.”

Ginny sat on her bed. “Just, don’t give up, okay?”

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Hermione sat back on the bed and hugged her knees to her chest as she looked out the window. “I promise I’m not going to disappear. I’d just rather be alone right now.”

“Alright. I’ll be downstairs if you need me,” Ginny said.

Ginny left the room and Hermione looked out the window, going through everything again, for the millionth time, trying to figure out what went wrong. She wasn’t sure exactly how long she was sitting there when she heard the door open. 

Hermione took a deep breath and turned towards the door. “Thanks, Ginny, I-” She froze. It wasn’t Ginny standing there, but Ron.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

Hermione looked back out the window. “I guess so.”

Ron walked in and sat on Ginny’s bad. He didn’t think it was a good idea to get too close yet. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”

Hermione didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure what to say. It’s okay? No, it wasn't’  okay. She didn’t want to lie.

“I know I was an arsehole, and I said some awful things. I’m not asking you to forgive me right away. Reckon I don’t deserve it.”

“Coming to your senses, are you?” Hermione said sarcastically.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Ron was silent for a moment. “Listen, I was serious when I said I wanted to go to Australia with you. You can’t go alone, Hermione. I won’t- I won’t let you-”

“I never wanted to go alone, Ron.” She finally turned to look at him.

“You didn’t? Er, don’t?” Ron asked, sounding surprised.

“Yes, Ron. That’s why when Kingsley was helping me make arrangements I asked for a room with two beds. Because I thought you were going to go with me. It would have been frivolous to get two rooms, you know. We’ve already spent the better part of a year in the same tent. But then you didn’t really respond when I tried to tell you what the plan was, and so I figured you’d changed your mind. If you feel like you need to stay, I don’t want to make you go-”

“I want to go. I just thought- nevermind,” Ron said, shaking his head.

“Just thought what? Please tell me,” Hermione pleaded with him.

“Er, you made all the plans without me. Just figured you didn’t want me to go anymore.”

“Of course not!” Hermione said indignantly. 

They could keep going round and round over the misunderstanding, but Ron said, “So it’s settled, then? I’m going with you?”

“Only if you want to.”

“I do.”

“Okay. The first portkey leaves Saturday at 10.” Hermione told him.

“Alright. I’ll, er, leave you alone now. See you in the morning?” Ron asked hesitantly.

Hermione nodded. Ron was about to shut the door behind him, when Hermione spoke up. “Ron?” He stopped and turned around. “You aren’t- you aren’t going to owl that girl are you?” 

“What girl?” Ron asked. Hermione gave him a hard look. “The one from the Hog’s Head? Course not. I tossed the parchment in the bin.”

“You did?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Ron said. He thought he saw the tiniest hint of a smile across her lips. “G’night, Hermione.”

“Good night, Ron.”

[ardentmuse]

Perchance a Parchment (George Weasley x Reader) - Part 5

Harry Potter - George Weasley x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.7k

Summary: In the aftermath of their failed meet-up, MC builds the confidence to do a few things she’s always needed to do and George finds the courage to follow his heart.

Series Masterlist // Masterlist

A/N: Not how I expected to spend this morning, so I hope you all enjoy this surprising update.

As you hung the last of the signs advertising your last big hurrah, a bookfest filled with live readings, stage performances, children’s theater, and sales galore, Patricia finished sending the last of the owls to the authors you wished to be featured.

You slumped down on your respective chairs in the middle of the store. But you only got settled when you heard the chime of the doorbell.

“Where’s my sweet girl?” Tom called from the door. It was hard to see his head over the giant pile of boxes and bags from the various local sellers. With two great strides, he dropped the bags unceremoniously upon your counter before turning and offering you both a giant, cheeky grin.

But his face fell the minute he saw the decorations and posters you had placed around the store advertising your big event this weekend.

“What’s all this?”

“Our last push to try and save the shop,” you said as you stood to offer him a hug, and to ask a few questions.

He huffed, “Don’t bother.” And before you could process the shock of those words, your face contorting into a horrible scowl, he barrelled forward with his own monologue. “Bill Weasley was promoted this week, something regarding ministry relations--”

“Don’t say the name Weasley in my shop, Thomas,” you mumbled under your breath. But Tom was a bulldozer, completely ignoring your obvious cues of discomfort.

“-- but it doesn’t matter. With his promotion comes my promotion! Gringotts has decided to transfer all of his territories to me. We leave for Egypt Saturday!”

Your mouth fell open in shock.

“Isn’t that great, babe?” Tom asked, clearly dissatisfied with your response, though it seemed he would have been dissatisfied with anything that wasn’t you flinging your arms around his neck, kissing him profusely, and deeming him your savior.

After a few seconds of you still not saying anything, the only sound the movement of Patty to excuse herself from the clearly tense situation, Tom pressed forward. He reached a hand into one of the bags, pulling out a lovely powder blue silk scarf, woven with silver string in the shape of stars.

“For the sand. Don’t you like it?”

You took a deep breath, trying to process the level of anger you are feeling. Tom just assumed you would drop your life to pursue his dreams, didn’t even once stop to ask you first. You always knew Tom was ambitious and loved your desire to adventure, but you were older now, more boring maybe. You wanted stability, to dig deep and make roots. After years of living light, your heart called so strongly to be heavy. And you had hoped Tom’s heart called for that too…

“Tom, I’m not going to Egypt with you.”

“Oh, Merlin, babe, I’m--” he stopped his cheerful ramble when he realized what you had actually said. He dropped the cloth upon the counter. “Are you serious?”

You sighed, “I have a shop to run.”

“That will be closed in a week!” Tom protested. “I know you are worried about money, but don’t be, Y/N. I’ve got us covered. You don’t need to do anything but let me take care of us.”

“This isn’t about money, Tom!” you found yourself screaming, “This is about having something that’s mine. I don’t want to just follow you around my whole life. I’m my own person. I have my own goals.”

Tom grabbed your shoulders in his large hands, trying to stabilize you. It was a gesture that would normally feel supportive but today only made you feel suffocated.

“I know, I know, and I want you to. You can write a book or do charity work or focus on starting our family. Come on, sweetie. Be realistic. I love your drive, but does it have to be here in this crudy shop over some old books?”

You found yourself being lulled by the sweet timbre of his voice - maybe travelling the world again and writing a book beside him wouldn’t be a bad thing - until he said that one word.

“Crudy?”

You pulled away harshly.

“We both know this was just a pipe dream. Very few businesses make it on Diagon Alley. Most of the shops have been here hundreds of years. Well, except the Weasleys.”

“DON’T SAY THE NAME WEASLEY IN MY SHOP, THOMAS!” you screamed this time, causing your boyfriend to throw up his hands in mock terror.

Realizing how much things had escalated, you both pause and breathe. You take a seat down upon your chair, processing what Tom just told you. He never supported you or your dream. You loved him, yes, and he loved you, too. But it seems you may have loved shadows of yourselves. Tom loved the you of three years ago, the one who found more happiness upon his arm than on her own two feet. And you loved a Tom who helped you find home after years of running, the one who taught you what connection was, even if he wanted that connection to only be with himself alone.

“I don’t love you,” you breathed out loud, only now realizing the freeing weight of saying the words out loud.  “I mean, I love you the way I love any friend but I don’t love you.”

You looked up from your hands to take in Tom’s face, blank and cold and only slightly confused.

“You don’t love me?”

Your eyes scanned his square jaw that you used to love running your fingers across, the lips that used to draw yours forward in lust or longing, the curls you used to pull in passion or pat in comfort, and the eyes that bore into you now in question, and you couldn’t help but wonder how long you had hoped he might be someone else. Had it been always? Had you been so blind to not see that what you loved was having someone, not this someone in particular?

“No,” you whispered with a slight shake of your head.

Thomas let out a deep breath before staring at the ceiling of your shop. His back pressed hard against the counter as he let his grip grow tighter. After a moment, his gaze turned to you once more. But you didn’t see the pain there that you had imagined. Just a stray tear and something akin to relief.

“I don’t love you either,” he admitted. “I hoped I might someday, but–” he cut himself off with another huff before taking a step towards you. “You are my best friend. You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re beautiful. We were perfect for each other.”

Tom flung himself down into the chair beside you. His hand inched towards your own and for once you didn’t feel the desire to pull away.

“Where’d we go wrong?”

You laughed, gripping the fingers of your best friend tightly for the first time in a long time -- not that you hadn’t held hands recently. Sometimes it felt like you were attached at the hands because that was what couples do. But it had been a very long time you only now realized that you could call Tom your best friend.

“Maybe in thinking friendship wasn’t enough for us? Not everything nice on paper makes sense in practice.”

Tom smiled at you genuinely before kissing your knuckles.

“You’ve always been wiser than me,” he said while returning your hand to you. “I think in the back of my head I always knew but–”

“This was easy?” you asked. He simply nodded in confirmation.

Tom stood and walked towards the counter. He collected the bags he brought in but upon picking up the blue scarf, he placed it back on the counter again with a pat.

“You deserve better than easy, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

You smiled at him, the full weight of the situation hitting you finally like a freight train. Was it possible to feel relief so acute and sadness so intense that they cancel each other out like two trains hitting head-on until each was halved and mangled, much smaller and much more dangerous?

You felt the tears begin to hit your eyes now but not at the loss of Tom but at the loss of all the stability you had spent years creating – your store, your relationship, your community, and your Rhubarb.

Tom tapped the scarf once more. “In case a vacation to Egypt seems like your next adventure. I promise you’ll have a couch to crash on, friend.” The last word sounded strange on his tongue, like a test more than sentiment. You found you could get used to it.

“I’ll take you up on that, once–”

“I know,” he said as a tear fell down his cheek. He moved forward and leaned it to kiss you like he always did when he left the shop, though this time he paused and redirected, his lips finding your forehead with precision. He held himself to you long and lasting, his tears salting your head.

You couldn’t even look at him as he walked towards the door. You heard the chime and felt your heart clench as your world fell apart in earnest. You let yourself cry now for real, letting the waves of sorrow rake your body.

“I’m sorry but I have to ask,” Tom started from the door.

You popped your head up and rubbed your eyes, damning that this would be the last he’d see of you before you reunited as friends, a gross snotty mess unable to compose herself.

“Is there someone else?” he asked, almost embarrassed at himself for asking the question, realizing he had no right now to care.

But you smiled despite yourself.

“I hope, someday.”

Tom nodded, the smile on his lips, too. “Me too.”

And with that he walked out of your shop and your life for the foreseeable future, one more part of the pristine life you had built for yourself disappearing down the lane. But unlike everything else, this one felt right and good, like you were regaining part of your strength. There was hope now for that passionate love you had told Rhubarb your heart desired, even if you had no prospects at the moment. Rhubarb, Tom, and the insufferable George Weasley you angered yourself at realizing, had given you a gift in showing you not to content yourself with just okay ever again.

George sat at the desk of his childhood home, nursing slowly the tea his mother had given him staring at a blank parchment. He was in love he now realized. And the right thing to do would be to let his love move on with her life. He had caused enough harm already.

With a huff, he crumpled the paper and tossed it into the bin.

“Leave her be, you git,” he said to himself, “You destroyed her business, you led her on and stood her up. You hurt her and she deserves so much better than you.”

“Better than George Fabian Weasley?” Fred said from the door, “There is no such thing. Well, other than his more dashing twin.”

Fred threw himself down on his own childhood bed. The mattress was the same but the linens were now pink and the duvet a brilliant mint green with silver sparkles, prepared for Victoire’s monthly sleepovers.  

It clashed with Fred’s hair greatly.

“So what are we going to do about this?”

George turned in his chair to see Fred reclining on his side, his head propped on his arm and a hickie prominent upon his neck. George felt the anger grow in him just a little at how easily Fred could find a woman to warm his bed– not that George wanted a bed warmer. He wanted a heart warmer, a life warmer. He wanted you, not that he had any right to.

“There’s nothing to do. We’ve done enough.”

Fred tisked loudly.

“Nothing is set in stone, Georgiepoo.” And with a flourish, he pulled a flyer out of his pocket and tossed it to his twin.

The flyer laid out upon the desk, pristine and thick just like the parchments you always send his way.

“Story Extravaganza?” George read out loud. “What is this?”

Fred just smiles, relaxing further into his bed. “It’s your girl fighting back.”

George smiles at Fred’s phrasing. He inspects the flyer carefully, impressed by how well you seem to know your customers to provide him so many things they might enjoy.

“And,” Fred begins, his voice growing more sly, “She may be fighting for you, too.”

Fred lays another piece of parchment on the desk next to Fred, one in your own script with the same flourish he’d grown so accustomed to seeing on the parchment.

Rhubarb,

I waited for you last night and you didn’t show up. I felt so foolish. I wish I understood what held you back, but I may never know.

Even if you wish to cut ties with me, I wanted to let you know that these talks of ours have given me the courage to do something I wasn’t sure I ever would be able to do. I spoke my mind to someone last night, someone who probably didn’t even care to hear what I have to say. This big shot business guy came by while I was waiting for you. I was probably not as nice as I could have been but I was direct with what I thought. I didn’t shrivel away out of fear of how I might be perceived. I fought for what I feel I deserve. It may not have been my proudest moment mouthing off to my enemy but it meant the world to me to know that you had part in building in me that kind of strength.

Thank you.

With Fred at his back, George tried to put pen to paper once more, this time knowing what he actually needed to say.

You were busy in your office intercepting a ton of notes from various local authors, almost all of whom were excited to make an appearance at the store either to promote new work or engage with readers. A few were even bringing excerpts of unpublished manuscripts to read and one of your favorite children’s authors was bringing along a band to perform some songs for the kids.

Everything was falling into place for a big celebration. Even if you didn’t make enough money to keep the store open — hell, you weren’t even sure your landlord would consider leasing to someone other than the Weasley’s at this point — it would be a great last hurrah. This was why you started the shop in the first place— to give the community a place to celebrate stories, creativity, and imagination. At the end of the day, it was always about community.

So when a certain snowy owl dropped a letter upon the incoming stack and greeted Diomedes with soft nips of her neck feathers, you didn’t notice. It wasn’t until you had sliced through the seal and saw the handwriting that the air left your chest.

My dear Cherry,

There’s no excuse for letting you sit there alone yesterday. I can’t explain where I was but I pray you will forgive me for leaving you.

I am proud of you and I can guarantee whatever you said did not fall on deaf ears. The break from your kind spirit could not have gone unnoticed. Whatever transgression he caused you surely deserved the words you tossed his way and I am sure you looked beautiful doing it.

I regret that you found yourself in that situation, though. You were expecting a friend and found an enemy instead. I am sorry for causing you that pain.

I’ll explain some day. I promise. But in the meantime, I am still here. I am still listening. Talk to me, sweetheart.

Rhubarb

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa, @thisisbullshytt,  @cancerousjojian, @whovianayesha, @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy, @luna-xxxxx, @sleepylunarwolf, @starryrevelations, @potter-thinking, @all-by-myself98, @bananafosters-and-books, @cutie-bug, @igotmadskills​, @hazelandcoconuts​, @yallgotkik​, @amberkay284​, @13ofjuly​, @daft-not-punk​, @sapphireorchid​, @geek-lass​, @ietss​, @garbdump​, 

Harry Potter tags: @tessimagines, @0-lost-in-stereo-0, @whysoseriouspadfoot

Perchance a Parchment tags: @cucumberinmyass, @justducky0423, @thequeen-ofnerds, @yuaasa, @comic-creature, @hermionebennet, @semicharmedkindofali, @sugerquill, @can-i-fangirl-yet​, @doct0rstrange, @igotmadskills, @otherthingsinhead, @olixerwxxd, @caramiriel, @gryffinclxw, @lizmar20, @indicisive-af, @confettidreameryouwhoreo-blog, @hellizhelusive2, @kaitsubaki, @dooriha, @justfollowtheroad, @memogorgon, @xxsophie-raabxx, @madamcadaver, @bookscoffeeandracoons

[punkpoemprose]

December 4th- The Movie Date

Universe: 2000′s AU Rating: G (General Audiences) Length: 1720 Words

Note: This fic deals with Kristoff and Anna waiting in line to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix in 2007 because for me the 2000′s were pretty much all Harry Potter all the time. I just want to say that while I’ve always been a fan of the Harry Potter series, I am not a fan of JK Rowling and her TERF ideology. If you like this fic please consider donating to The Trevor Project or another charity of your choice that supports trans folks. Trans rights are human rights.

Also on a less important note: I fucked with the timeline a bit because I wanted the last book to have come out before the fifth movie for the plot stuff I could do with it. Technically speaking the last book came out ten days later than the film, but semantics.

If someone had told him a year ago that he would be dressed up in a wizard costume, standing in line for over five hours just to get seats to see a movie, he would have called them crazy. Of course, he’d heard of Harry Potter, even then. It was a cultural phenomenon and really he’d been meaning to read the books at some point, it was just that he was busy with work or it was hockey season, or something came up and he never really found the time to sit down and read the books. That was, of course, all the excuses he’d made before Anna.

He’d met her mostly by mistake while at work. He’d been working on laying up brick for a new fountain in the city park, and she’d been walking a big fluffy white dog by one hand while texting someone on her Nokia with the other, and it hadn’t ended particularly well for anyone involved. The long story short was that she’d broken her arm, he’d needed stitches in his cheek, and the dog, Olaf, had needed to have chunks of fur cut away after cement dried into his fluffy tail.

It had also, coincidentally worked out very well for at least the human parts of the incident as, once they’d finished arguing over who was at fault, they’d also started talking civilly and despite their aches and pains, had actually went out for coffee after the incident. At the time, a Starbucks had just opened in town and it had been the excuse they’d both used, along with the promise of apology coffee, for their first date.

She’d been easy to fall in love with, and when she’d brought up the kids series and her love of it on their first date, he’d finally had the shove he needed to stop making excuses and read them.  He didn’t end up loving them nearly so much as she did. He’d never been much of a fantasy guy, but still after hours reading the books and discussing them with her, they’d ordered the movies through Netflix and watched them together as they arrived in the mail.

That was six months before they moved in together. Now, while he still wasn’t as into the series as Anna, he could say that he knew as much as anyone who had finished the series in July when the final book came out. He’d needed to stand in line then too, but it had been worth it to bring it home and watch Anna, who had been sick, marathon the book between breaks for NyQuil and sustenance. The snot and tears he’d endured, laying on the couch with her, her head on his chest, had been all worth it in the end, as the hours in line and the silly costume were now.

The things I do for love.

“Okay, so as soon as they let us in, we’ll snag the best seats. You’re on guard duty while I get popcorn because you look tough.”

He snorted, both at the fact that she had a game plan, and because he really didn’t feel like he looked tough at all in his Gryffindor tie (though he’d been told by Anna, and a quiz she’d found on Quizilla.com, that he was much more of a Hufflepuff) and large black robe. In fact, he felt like he looked a little bit ridiculous, but Anna, in comparison, looked lovely.

She’d decided to dress like Fleur Delacour in her Beauxbaton’s uniform, and he knew that he, by association was meant to be Bill Weasley, something which he not only liked the idea of from a romantic sense, but also by characterization. He’d liked Bill in the books, and for what it was worth, he’d also liked Fleur despite the way other characters looked at her. While he wasn’t sure he was quite brave enough to be Bill, he did like his work ethic, the strong sense of right and wrong he seemed to display, and his love for his family. Anna made an excellent Fleur, particularly in the sense that he found her so lovely that she could certainly have some Veela heritage, even if they were fictional.

“I’ll endeavor to do my best,” he said, only half teasing.

“You’ll do fine I’m sure. I mean they’re only selling as many tickets as they have seats, and it’s been sold out for weeks, so once we get our seats it’s not like anyone can make us move or kick us out or something.”

He nodded, “Honestly Anna I think that everyone is just excited to see the movie, I doubt they’re going to fight us on seats too much.”

“But if they do, we’re going to win.”

He laughed at that. There was a glint in her eye that seemed more like they were about to go to battle than that they were going to walk into a movie theater. He loved her competitive nature, particularly when it wasn’t aimed toward him, in their Livingroom, playing Call of Duty. Her bloodlust was legendary when a win was on the line, and “all is fair in love and war” was the law of the land as soon as the PlayStation turned on.  

“So I know you have a rule about soda because whenever you get it you have to pee halfway through the movie, but would you mind grabbing me a cherry coke when you get the popcorn? Because I haven’t had a drink in five hours and I understand the Order of the Phoenix is very important, and I was willing to sacrifice for it, but I’m going to need to drink something soon or I’m going to look like a dementor…”

He trailed off, noticing that Anna wasn’t paying any attention to a word he was saying, but instead was staring off past the pinball machines and crane games that dotted the lobby, straight over to the ticket counter, where a girl, appearing to be around ten, wearing a Quidditch uniform was crying into her extremely frazzled looking mother’s skirt.

“Oh geeze,” Anna said quietly, much lower than when they were explaining their battle plan, “That poor kid. I bet her Mom didn’t think to buy ahead… she probably didn’t realize how popular it was going to be.”

Kristoff frowned, he had a sister about her age, and there was nothing worse than watching her cry over anything. As much as he was wrapped around Anna’s finger, he’d been wrapped around hers first. There were many years, when she was even younger, that he’d bring himself to exhaustion carrying her around on his shoulders, reading her stories, and doing whatever it took to keep her happy. He could only imagine how much more he’d want to please a kid of his own.

“Anna… is she wearing a birthday girl pin on her robe?”

He probably shouldn’t have mentioned it, but he noticed the pink button and crown when she turned and wiped her little eyes.

“It is,” Anna agreed, frowning, “It is definitely a birthday girl pin. I bought Elsa the same one last month… but I don’t think she wore it as proudly as that kid is.”

An announcement was made over the lobby PA system informing the theatergoers that rope drop to enter theaters 1-4 for the release showing of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix would be in just five minutes. When Anna quickly ducked under the rope to the side of them that they’d been standing between for five hours, Kristoff smiled to himself, already knowing where she was going.

***

“’Well, I’m glad you listen to Hermione Granger at any rate’, she said, pointing him out of her office.”

Anna snorted, jostling the book, as Kristoff held it with one hand and played with her hair with the other. Her head was rested against his chest on their couch, and despite the late hour they were both still awake and quite comfortable.

“I love how you’re doing your best Maggie Smith impression when you read McGonagall’s parts. It’s almost like I can see it.”

He leaned forward and a bit awkwardly placed a kiss on her forehead as he flipped the book closed. They’d finished Chapter Twelve and while he would start Chapter Thirteen if she wanted him to, a moment to rest was required before they read any further.

“I’m sorry we didn’t actually go see it,” he replied, “But I’m glad that we found something else to do tonight. That little girl and her mom looked like they’d been given a million dollars when you handed them the tickets.”

Anna smiled at that, her eyes fluttering open. Her eyes were still  a little sad and at odds with her grin, but he supposed that it only made sense that she was still happy and sad about her decision to give up a night she’d been planning for months to a child she didn’t even know.

“Well I mean… I would want someone to do it for our… I mean my kid. You know, if we… I had one.”

The slip wasn’t unnoticed by him, and setting the book down onto the floor, he pulled her in tighter to his chest, wrapping both arms around her tightly. She squirmed a bit in his embrace, laughing at how between him and the blanket she was all but cocooned.

“Someday,” he said, “Yeah, I would hope someone would do that for our kid. Or you know… kids.”

She stopped squirming and instead hummed appreciatively at his comment.

“Maybe,” she said, “A whole burrow’s worth.”

They’d only briefly talked before about marriage and a family, but he did like the idea of a big family. He had many siblings, and he loved being with them even though he often considered himself a bit of an introvert, but he knew that Anna loved people, and she loved noise. He could imagine her happy in a big house with plenty of smiling faces and loud joyful voices to fill it.

“Someday,” he said confidently, thinking of the end of the final book, her sobbing into his shirt over a happy ending with families and friends and young children who were products of love and loyalty, “Someday Anna we will.”

[duchessfics]

A Second Chance

(https://humanveil.tumblr.com/post/184864859382)

Narcissa x Reader

Requested by Anon: idk if you write for her but i saw you put her on your characters i would kiss list so if u can would you do something about narcissa? like you introduce her to your friends and when she’s in the bathroom they say she’s too old for you and she hears you defend her and when you get home she gets insecure and you comfort her and just like uhh idk i love her sm and finally someone else recognizes how pretty she is. anyway if you do it ty and if you don’t write for her sry i’ll request elsewhere ly.

Warning(s): None

Summary: You go out to dinner to introduce your friends to your fiance, however their reaction is not as inviting as you expected. As a result Narcissa questions if this is the right thing, but you reassure her that it is.

Word Count: 2115

A/n: I know this isn’t AHS, but I did want to write this request. I promise I have some more AHS coming up so if you aren’t a fan of this there will be some more content soon.

Ok...to preface this story I should mention two things: 

#1 I know Narcissa can be a polarizing character. I did put her on my list of characters I would kiss, but that doesn’t mean I condone everything she does (although she did low-key save Harry which was kind of cool). 

#2 *moves to hide behind chair before whispering* I haven’t read the books. 😬 HP stans please don’t come after me, I promise I don’t mean to offend if I get something wrong. That’s why I didn’t include magic, because I didn’t want to try to write something that I don’t really know much about. To the Anon who requested this I hope you like it. Tbh it’s a little out of my wheelhouse of writing, but I don’t think it turned out that bad. 😅

“You’re sure you want to go out tonight? They won’t be upset if it’s just me.”

You pose the question for what has to be the tenth time as you observe your fiancé making the finishing touches on her coiffure showing off both her dark and light hair. Narcissa’s reflection looks at you and she replies, “I’m sure.”

Then her coffee brown eyes look down to the vanity’s table and she picks up one of her necklaces with a smirk playing on her lips as she teases, “I’m starting to think you’re more nervous than me.” Before she can ask, you come up behind her and latch her necklace that sparkles with small diamonds. At the same time, you explain, “I just want my friends to see what an amazing woman you are.”

She turns around and rises before cupping your face with her cool hands. Her smile helps to settle the nerves that have been building up and she softly soothes, “It’ll be okay, darling.” The calm reassurance brings you back to reality and you let out a sigh before admitting, “You’re right. I’m overthinking it.”

She takes her hands away and nods with a smile, but her face shows understanding, not condemnation. Then Narcissa takes your hand and asks, “Ready?” After taking a deep breath, you nod and answer, “Yes.” So you both step out of your bedroom and make your way to the local restaurant for dinner…

When you enter the building, the hostess shows you to your reserved table where two of your best friends sit. They greet you with familiar smiles, but when they see Narcissa behind you, their welcoming expressions falter. That reaction makes the pit in your stomach feel even heavier. But you hope they’ll keep an open mind. 

After sitting down next to your fiancé you take her hand under the table and give a reassuring squeeze. She gives you a small smile and you turn to your friends before stating, “This is my fiancé, Narcissa.”

Both of them remain cordial when greeting her, but you don’t miss their clenched jaws or stiffness throughout the whole meal. Even the conversations are strained and difficult to keep pleasant. Fortunately, years of experience with purebloods did teach Narcissa to keep face and remain as polite as the situation warranted. 

On the other hand, you can’t hardly eat your meal with how anxious you feel. You love your friends, but you also love Narcissa and seeing them act this way towards her is foreign to you. Maybe it’s too soon to go out with others. Perhaps the stigma around purebloods is still impacting daily relations.

After finishing her meal, your fiancé politely excuses herself to use the washroom. Before she walks away you see her small, reassuring smile. But as soon as she’s out of earshot, one of your friends grows serious and asks in a low voice,

“You’re seriously going to marry her?”

Her condescending tone makes you bristle up and you icily reply, “Yes. I’m going to marry her.”

That’s when your other friend chimes in, “But what about her helping Voldemort? Or how her family was almost all deatheaters, including herself?” 

Your body pulsates with heat at their accusations and your heart feels betrayed at their lack of understanding.

“Narcissa will be the first to admit that her past beliefs and actions were not honorable and deals with the shame and guilt of that. But that’s all she knew at the time. She’s changed since then. And while she isn’t perfect, her understanding and acceptance towards those outside of pureblood status is very much improved.” You retort.

However, they still look skeptical and one asks, “But what about Lucius? Or Bellatrix? She’s just left them all behind?” 

Then your other friend adds, “And what about her age, y/n? She could nearly be your mother.”

By now angry tears smart at your eyes and a lump of emotions crawls up your throat. But you swallow that down and answer, “She was loyal to them because it felt safe. Narcissa isn’t stupid. She witnessed what happened to Sirius and Andromeda. And she would have never left her son behind. As for her age, I don’t recall ever mentioning that factor between you and your partners.”

You take a breath to calm your temper and soften your voice before admonishing, “I thought I could trust you with this. I thought you would be supportive and understanding.” 

Both avoid your eyes, but don’t offer up apologies. So you mutter, “I’ll just pay for our meals and leave.” Just after you say that, Narcissa comes back around. She gives you a half-hearted smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. You try to give an encouraging smile back, but it falls flat. So after you pay your bill you say a quick goodbye to your friends before going home…

Once you’re back in your house, Narcissa lets her pleasant façade crumble away and says, “I think I’m going to retire for the night.” 

Right away you look to her and ask, “Are you feeling alright? I could draw a bath or get you some evening tea.” However, she shakes her head and carelessly brushes her lips against yours before responding, “That’s alright, darling. I think I’m just worn out from the day.”

She does look tired, but there is something more hidden in the dark depths of her eyes. Before you can investigate further, she backs away and soothes, “Don’t feel like you need to come up yet.” And before you can respond she’s already halfway up the stairs. 

She must have heard what they said. But should you respect her wish to be left alone? If she seems upset at you following her to the bedroom, you’ll leave. So you make your way up the stairs to see her removing her jewelry in front of her vanity.

Even though you know she heard you enter, Narcissa keeps her eyes focused on the mirror as you ask, “Narcissa, did you hear everything that they said today?” 

She lets out a breath and looks down to her hands that now rest on the table. Then she assures you, “It’s no big deal. Maybe they’re right though. Maybe you shouldn’t stay here with me.”

That suggestion breaks your heart and you rush up to her, cupping her face with your hands. She lets you guide her to face you and once her dark brown eyes meet yours you soothe, “They spoke out of turn and only retold the past. But they weren’t right to be concerned.” For a second, you see the raw emotion in her eyes, but she turns out of your hold and walks into the closet to change.

Rather than cornering her, you speak loud enough for her to hear, “They spoke their feelings and perspective. And while that is valid, that doesn’t make it the whole truth.”

Narcissa remains quiet, so you venture closer to the closet doorway and see her turned away from you, wearing a silk, forest green nightgown. She neatly places her clothes into the hamper and when she turns around to see you in the doorway, her eyes widen in surprise. But her neutral expression returns, and she comes up to you before weakly assuring you, “Y/n, I’m just tired.” But even she doesn’t seem convinced. 

Rather than trying to keep reasoning with her you decide to take a different approach and respond by taking her hand and leading her over to the bed. While you walk she asks, “What are you doing?” But you silently climb onto the bed and guide her to do the same.

Once you’re both on the bed, you guide Narcissa to lean against your chest. Then you pull the covers up over you both and hold her close to you. She remains a little stiff and asks again, “What are you doing, darling?”

You bury your face in the crook of her neck and her soft tendrils tickle against your skin as you inhale her familiar scent. The first note that fills your nose is her rose perfume that she told you she’s worn since Draco was 8 years old and told her she smelled good. Then there’s a hint of earthy pine that’s present even without stepping into the woods. And underlying all of this is a hint of wintergreen mint that almost feels physically cooling and reminds you of snowy days in winter.

“Please talk to me, Narcissa. I want to know what you’re feeling right now.” You gently murmur in her ear and keep your lips close enough to press along the delicate skin just behind it.

She stays silent; however, you feel her body begin to relax into yours. Her breathing is a little shaky and you know making herself so vulnerable is not something that comes naturally. So you let her unfurl in her own time, providing a reassuring embrace and soft kisses of encouragement.

Eventually she whispers, “What if they are right? What if any good that I do won’t be enough to outweigh my past?” 

You slowly run your palm up and down her exposed arm and even though you know the answer to this question, you ask, “Do you feel bad about your past beliefs and actions?”

The question causes her to turn and look at you before she nearly pleads, 

“Yes. I…to be quite frank, I fucked up. I can see how horrible my actions were and I do feel bad.”

By now her eyes are glassy with unshed tears and she whimpers, “If it hadn’t been for Draco…I couldn’t let him get hurt and I didn’t trust Lucius to make sure of that.”

You tuck a loose piece of her hair behind her ear and she looks down, with one single tear sliding down her cheek. So you use your thumb to brush away the tear and soothe, “Then it isn’t about measuring the weight of all your good and bad actions. You’ve learned from past errors and grown. That’s half the battle.”

Her gaze meets yours and you continue with a small smile, “No person is only good or only bad, sweetheart. That line of distinction between the two runs through us.” 

To emphasize, you skim your pointer finger down the center of her chest. She looks at the digit and you conclude, “What matters is how we respond to those impulses. And I struggle with that battle too. Everyone does.” Then you pull your finger away and hug her close. She hugs you back and her voice reverberates against your shoulder that she’s curled into when she softly says, 

“Thank you, y/n.”

You press a kiss to the crown of her head while replying, “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Then she backs up enough to kiss you. 

Her lips softly melt against yours and she immediately opens up to you, moving her hands to capture your face between them. You mirror her movements, cherishing this intimate moment and letting her lips and tongue guide you along in a delicate dance.

When you part, both of your chests rise and fall as you catch your breath. That’s when you notice the familiar flush of Narcissa’s cheeks is present once more. So you ask, “How about some tea to warm you up?” She nods and slips out of bed after you do. 

Before she walks into the washroom, you inquire, “Do you want cream or sugar with it?” Your fiance pauses for a moment. Then her eyes light up mischievously and her lips curve into a suggestive smile as she purrs, “I do, but not the kind you’re thinking of.”

Your eyes widen but you grin at the insinuation and she continues, “After all, I wasn’t able to get any dessert after dinner and you know how insatiable my sweet tooth can be.” Narcissa’s darkened orbs sparkle with coyness making your body heat up at her behavior. 

Then you let out a small giggle and respond, “Well I think I can provide what you desire. Tonight’s special is better than the selection of desserts anywhere else.”

The bold claim makes her chuckle and she tells you, “I look forward to it.” Then she starts to step away, but you say her name and take her hand. 

She looks back to you with wide eyes and you murmur, “I love you, Narcissa.” The statement causes her cheeks to turn even pinker and she gives you a shy smile as she replies, “I love you too, y/n.”

You release her hand and both of you linger for a moment as if dreading being apart for even a couple minutes. But you do part ways, assured with the knowledge that you’ll be reunited soon enough and have each other until the end.

Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar, @find-me-a-constellation, @cordwliagoode, @psychobitchtess, @midnight-lestrange, @mysweetdelia, @venablesbitch, @peachesandlesbians, @nerdaroo, @cordeliafoxxe​

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

[timetoresurface]

secrets (5) / BBH

Y/N x CEO BAEKHYUN

final 5k words

PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4 // PART 5

Hopping from one job to another, you really wanted to keep your position at Banking and Finance. If you would have to describe your perfect work environment, it definitely wouldn’t be at that stupid finance magazine that had the worst coffee machine in history. But hey, it did pay the bills, and that’s what everyone does, right? A perfect job doesn’t exist, right? A perfect life doesn’t exist, right? Only in cheap romantic comedies was life perfect, and you certainly weren’t in any. At least the last time you checked.

“Have you ever seen the movie ‘Confessions of a Shopaholic’?” Chanyeol asked you during your second meeting that week. You dropped your pen and simply nodded your head for him to continue. ”Well, that’ where I’ve got my inspiration from.” His voice sounded uncertain, almost childlike.

“What do you mean?” You asked him softly. You had grown a soft spot for Chanyeol over the last couple of days. He was polite, funny, and a wonderful gentleman. He knew exactly what to say and how to make you feel good. Not in the way that Baekhyun made you feel, but he was kind enough to distract you for a while.

“At first glance, you’re just a pretty girl, but you actually know your stuff.” He simply stated, not daring to look into your eyes. He did just call you beautiful. That’s kind of embarrassing.

“Most people don’t dare to look behind the beautiful girl part. So, thank you for pushing through.” You thanked him, showing him your biggest smile.

“It wasn’t that hard.” He chuckled lowly, and you felt like you were going to melt into a puddle onto the floor.

“So, what about the movie?” You asked him, changing back the subject before the conversation got too awkward for you to handle.

"They had the lead have this column about banking stuff in easy terms. We’re not going to do it like that, but that’s what inspired me.” He explained, and you couldn’t help but find him cute. His big doe eyes were endearing, and you couldn’t look away. He might dress in fancy suits and is actually a big shot guy, but he was still human. He even showed his insecurities and weird thought processes.

“So, do you like watching romantic comedies?” You teased him softly while touching his arm gently. He looked a bit taken aback, but he let it happen nonetheless. Suddenly the door of the meeting room was forcefully pushed open, revealing a fuming Baekhyun.

“Oh, hello, Baekhyun! Are you checking up on our progress?” Chanyeol smiled at him. The two of them were more friends than colleagues you had figured out while working with Chanyeol. He could never stop talking about how great Baekhyun was, and what kind of crazy stories they got themself into. You did love Chanyeol’s anecdotes about Baekhyun, but you would rather hear them from the man himself. Which would be demanding as you were ignoring his presence.

“It doesn’t seem like you two are doing very much.” He stated firmly, and Chanyeol straightened his back. He had also once told you that when Baekhyun was pissed, you should watch yourself.

“We’re actually almost finished, mister Byun.” You told him dryly while removing your hand from Chanyeol's arm. Baekhyun noticed your retreating hand, and his eyes hardened.

“Show me what you’ve got.” He demanded while seating himself opposite you. He didn't even acknowledge Chanyeol as his eyes were too busy scanning you. His eyes never left your face though, he seemed to be looking for something, but you had no clue what that could be.

“We will present our idea next Tuesday as we promised.” You told him in your most professional voice. Surprise flashed through his eyes, but he quickly composed himself.

“Maybe I can help.”

“We’re presenting our project for you to agree. Wouldn’t it be against protocol if you helped us?” You tried to reason with him. Chanyeol didn’t know what was happening between the two of you but didn’t do anything to stop it. He seemed to enjoy the show you were giving him.

“There are a lot of things against protocol, but that has never stopped you.” His voice dropped lower, and you felt your knees go weaker and weaker. When he looked at you, it was as if every ounce of breath was taken from your lungs. You had a crush on Baekhyun, and your body wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. A crush is nothing more than a lust for someone, right? But still, he is always there on your mind. Whenever you see him, that’s it, you’ll keep thinking about him for the entire day.

“Likewise, isn’t that how you created this company?” Your voice stumbled over the first word, but Baekhyun seemed unfazed. He didn’t seem to be as affected by you, as you were affected by him.

“Seems like we both did our research.” He tilted his head and stared you up and down. His eyes weren’t shy anymore. We were quickly taken out of our trance when Chanyeol’s phone started ringing.

“Excuse me.” He stuttered while walking out of the room with his phone pressed to his ear.

“So…” Baekhyun said, trying to break the awkward silence that had fallen over you.

“So…” you repeated him, looking at your hands. You didn’t want to look into his eyes when you were alone with him. You were scared you would crumble.

“How have you been?” He asked you casually as if you guys were old friends trying to reconnect.

“I’m not doing this.” You thundered while getting up from your chair. At that moment, Chanyeol decided to enter the meeting room again, and he looked puzzled, to say the least.

“What?” Baekhyun and Chanyeol said simultaneously.

“Chanyeol, I think we're done for today, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” You quickly bowed and made your way out of the hell hole. You grabbed your things from your desk and went straight home. You tried so hard to not be affected by Baekhyun, but your mind and body were not in sync.

You were casually doing your work when Chanyeol surprised you at your desk. He had taken off his tie and suit jacket. He had also rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and he looked like a snack. Your colleagues eyed you suspiciously while pretending to do some work. Why did your colleagues even care about these handsome young men? Yes, Chanyeol and Baekhyun were attractive, but they were just too high up to even pretend you got a chance with one of them. You learned the hard way.

When one of them entered your floor, everyone seemed to go in acting mode. Like Chanyeol would even notice them, he had already made it perfectly clear to you that you were the only reason he was spending so much time here. Now that you think of it, Chanyeol had been really interested in you. Asking where you would go out for a drink, or where you’d like to eat. It was adorable that he appreciated your opinion for work-related matters, but also personal issues. It did make you feel a little warm inside.

“Hi, Y/N.” He beamed at you, and you couldn’t stop thinking about a happy puppy who was always excited about everything and anything.

“Hey, Chanyeol.” You returned his greeting with a big smile. Whenever Chanyeol was near, you just couldn’t stop smiling. He had that effect on people, and you’d like to follow the masses. 

“Can I ask you something?” His cheeks turned a little red, but it was a good look on him. It made him more approachable and even more adorable.

“Of course you can. For you everything.” You told him while taking off your reading glasses. He visibly swallowed before talking again. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was nervous. 

“That’s nice to hear. I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner after work?” He mumbled softly. You had to pay attention really hard to understand what he was even saying. Just as your colleagues, who leaned more to your side to understand what he was asking.

“Oh?” Was all you could mutter.

“Nothing too serious because I don’t want to talk about work. I just don’t really know a lot of people in this area, and it would be nice to not dine alone.” He quickly explained, but you just smiled at him.

“I would love to show you around. When do you finish work?”

“When you’re finished.” He confessed, and you laughed. 

“I still have some work to do, but I can be done in an hour.” You told him.

“It’s a date.” He happily exclaimed, but his enthusiasm quickly disappeared after seeing your face. “Not really a date, but you know what I mean.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you in an hour.” You told him while putting your glasses back on your face. Chanyeol practically skipped out of the office, leaving you smiling to yourself. You tried to contain your excitement before your colleagues would swarm your desk with questions.

The hour passed quickly. Luckily for Chanyeol, you didn’t take your work too seriously. The hour was filled with checking a report and scrolling through your horoscope website until you found the one you liked. 

“I’m leaving everyone.” You announced while grabbing your coat. Some colleagues hummed as a response, being too busy with their work. Luckily for your company, some people did take their jobs seriously.

When you made your way down to the entrance of your building, Chanyeol wasn’t there yet. The old security man was still working, so you made your way over to him.

“Long time no see.” You announced your presence, and he glanced up from the book he was reading.

“You must be really busy. I’ve heard you’re working on something special.” He put down his book to talk to you. If that’s not love, you don’t know what love is. Putting down a book could mean a marriage proposal in your world. You would say yes if the old security man asked you. It was a shame he was happily married, and that his wife was the kindest person you had ever met.

“I can’t really tell you, but yeah.” You said proudly while hanging over his desk like a little too excited kid.

“I’m really proud of you.”

“Thank you so much. How’s the book?” You asked him changing the subject.

“Boring.” Both of you laughed at his confession. Why were you even mad at him a couple of days ago? Your head really worked in strange ways sometimes. 

“If I don’t forget, I’ll bring you one of my favourites next week.” You happily told him, but he frowned.

“I appreciate the gesture as I know you’ll probably forget. I’m still waiting for your famous apple pie.” He joked with you, and you blushed. Why did you always forget everything? And why did you tell him you could bake? The last time you had baked something you’d almost set your apartment on fire. You really needed someone who could teach you basic household chores.

“If I don’t forget, I’ll also bring you some homemade apple pie.” You quickly lied to him. Supermarkets sold homemade apple pies too. 

“Y/N!” Chanyeol yelled before making his way over to you. “I hope you didn’t have to wait too long.”

“I almost wanted to leave, luckily for you, my favourite guy kept me company.” You teased Chanyeol, and he almost believed you wanted to leave. His eyes practically fell out of his head. Overacting was a good look on him. You started to think everything was a good look at him.

“Thank you so much for your sacrifice, sir.” Chanyeol joked while bowing.

“Nothing I can not handle. She can be sweet when she wants to be.”

“You never know how you’re going to find her.” Chanyeol agreed, and you rolled your eyes.

“Keeps the job exciting.” Both him and Chanyeol laughed loudly at the remark. Can people stop talking about you as if you weren’t there, that would be great? Thank you.

“Enough about me. Let’s go Chanyeol.” You waved at your friend and grabbed Chanyeol by the arm. 

“Where do you want to go?” He asked you while exiting the office building together. The sun was still shining, which made you really happy. 

“I always go to the same bar.” You explained to him. Baekhyun hadn’t really cared where you were going.

“Which is…?” Chanyeol tried again. 

“A secret.” You told him with your finger over your lips. 

“I don’t really like secrets,” Chanyeol stated, and you had to container your disappointment. Who didn’t like secrets? Everyone has secrets.

“You don’t have any secrets?” You asked him softly.

“No, I’m an open book. Do you have any?” It’s not like it is a bad thing to not have secrets, but you were a tiny little bit disappointed. Maybe he needed a sip of alcohol before he got honest with you.

“I collect secrets.” You joked with him, but it seemed to go right through him.

“How do you even collect secrets.” He asked you seriously, and you sighed. Maybe you could only converse with him about work-related stuff. 

“I scream them into a jar before sealing the lid.”

“Are you kidding?” He asked you uncertain. 

“Of course not.”

“Strange.” He ended the conversation. 

“A little bit, yeah.” You whispered under your breath before opening the door of your favourite bar. Maybe you should’ve gone to another as this place reminded you solely of Baekhyun. How conversation never went dull, and how his lips were a perfect fit on yours. You tried to shake the feeling. 

“What do you want to order?” Chanyeol asked after you were seated at the bar. You liked the spot better you had chosen when you’re with Baekhyun, but you couldn’t exactly tell Chanyeol that. 

“I only drink the signature cocktails. They’re the best.” You told him happily, never taking a look at the menu. You knew their cocktail list by heart.

“I don’t really like cocktails,” Chanyeol remarked while scanning the menu intently. 

“They have a lot of other options too.” You mumbled softly.

“Which one would you like? I’ll order us something.” Chanyeol asked you suddenly.

“I’d like this one.” You told him, showing him your favourite cocktail with your finger. You had to move a lot closer to him to do so, and it didn’t feel right. 

The conversation didn’t flow as you would have expected. And it’s not that Chanyeol wasn’t good company. He was a terrific company, but you just didn’t feel the part. You never really believed in that kind of stuff, but after your encounter with Baekhyun, you might be a believer now. 

“What are you thinking about?” Chanyeol asked you after a couple minutes of silence. 

“Nothing.” You told him off. 

“Is that nothing called Baekhyun?” He asked you waiting for your response. 

“Why would I be thinking about Baekhyun?” You scoffed, trying to hide your surprise. Could he read your thoughts? 

“He seems to be interested in you, and you seem to be annoyed by everything he says and does.” He explains to you, and you couldn’t look him in the eyes. Were you that obvious?

“If he annoys me, why would I be thinking about him outside of work?”

“Love and hate are practically the same things.” He reasoned with you. His face showed a beautiful smile, and you hated yourself for leading on such a wonderful man. 

“I only believe in hate at first sight. Love is something people made up because they weren’t satisfied with their lives.

“Wasn’t it hate at first sight between the two of you?” He asked you jokingly, but you couldn’t laugh. He was right, actually. And you really hated it when people understood something before you.

“Stop reasoning with me.” You told him.

“I really had high hopes for tonight.” He changed the subject again.

“Why’s that?” You asked him while playing with the straw in your drink. 

“Because I like you.” He confessed suddenly.

“Was it love at first sight for you?” You jokingly asked him, but he shook his head in disbelief at your words. 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He laughed softly. 

“I’m sorry.” You apologize.

“Don’t be. Don’t be sorry for being you. I like that about you. That you’re unapologetically you.”

“That’s so cliché of you to say.”

“I do watch romantic movies.” He proudly stated after taking a sip from his drink.

“And you let their stories guide your life.” You commented after also taking a sip from your fruity cocktail.

“I’ve known Baekhyun for a while now, but I’ve never seen him like he is now,” Chanyeol said seriously again. He could really switch from serious to jokingly in a second. It was confusing.

“And what is so different?” You asked him interested. You were tired. You didn’t really want to hate Baekhyun anymore. 

“He seems excited,” Chanyeol stated. 

“Excited?” You repeated him. Why would Baekhyun suddenly seem excited? What changed? 

“When I told him I was having dinner with you tonight, he came alive. He was asking where and when exactly, and not that Baekhyun is a bad friend, but he is never interested in my dating life. At least not like that.” Chanyeol began explaining his reasoning. He thought he had it all figured out. 

“…Also, your little exchange in the meeting room made me suspicious.” He continued his monologue, and you could only listen to his words. Baekhyun came alive when he discovered you went out to eat with Chanyeol. Baekhyun knew you were somewhere right now having fun with someone else. How did that even me you look?

“… It seems you do collect secrets.” He ended, and you half smiled at him. It was a lot to take in. 

“I told you.” You ended the conversation. Both of you said goodbye after the awkward confession/ analyzation of Chanyeol. You needed some time alone to figure things out.

The next couple of days went remotely smooth. You had gotten your hands onto Baekhyun’s schedule, so you knew when and where he was at all times. It was a life saviour. It was the only thing keeping you sane. You had finally taken his shirt back to the office. You didn’t want to keep it, as it held too many memories for you. But you also didn’t want to throw it away as it seemed to be a costly dress shirt. You and Jennie made a plan where you would just leave it in his office when you knew he would be out.

Today was going to be the day. It was finally Friday, and he had lunch plans with some big shot guy you didn’t remember the name of. But he seemed to be necessary , and Baekhyun would never skip that meeting. It was a solid plan because everyone would leave your office around lunchtime to get something to eat. You didn’t need to explain why you had a man’s shirt in your hands, and you didn’t need to tell why you were going to the top floor.

You quietly made your way up to Baekhyun’s office, working your hardest to not look suspicious. Once you closed his office door behind you, you could finally breath again. He wasn’t there, and somehow after all your hard work in avoiding him, you felt a little sad. You patted his shirt after you placed it on his desk. This was it. This is how it ends. 

“We had a good time.” You whispered to the lifeless shirt. 

“We did have a good time, didn’t we?” A voice behind you surprised you. You turned around and saw Baekhyun closing his office door. He wore a pastel coloured suit that complimented his natural skin colour, and you felt your cheeks redden. 

“I’m sorry mister Byun. I was just returning something that was yours.” You explained yourself softly. He didn’t say anything while walking over to his desk, standing right next to you.

“Thank you.” He finally said after looking at the shirt on his desk. It was freshly washed, and neatly folded. “Maybe you should keep it.” He shrugged while holding his shirt out for you to take.

“What?” You stuttered, not being able to control yourself around the handsome man. Why would he even give you his shirt? It didn’t even smell like him anymore, not that you checked.

“You did look good in my shirt. I still think about that moment when you entered the meeting room in my shirt with your cheeks flushed red.” A soft smile spread over his face, but his eyes darkened. If he continued this duality of his, you would get a headache. There was just no deciphering the man. 

“You did rip my shirt, and left me all alone in your room. What else was I supposed to do?” You asked him sarcastically, trying to keep your voice low.

“I really wanted to stay though.” He moved a little bit closer to you, but you backed up against his desk.

“Let’s not talk about it anymore.” You firmly stated while standing up. You didn’t look him in the eyes.

“You haven’t even given me a chance to talk about it.” His hand got hold of your wrist, but you quickly shrugged him off.

“What’s done is done, mister Byun. It is no good to dwell on the past.” You explained to him cooly.

“Is it this easy for you to let us go?” His voice grew angry, but you kept your cold facade. 

“Us? There is no us, mister Byun.” You corrected him.

“Please call me Baekhyun.” He pleaded.

“What do you want from me, Baekhyun?” You yelled at him, you couldn’t hide the frustration anymore. You couldn’t contain the anger you had for the man standing in front of you.

“I just want you.” He confessed quietly, and a part of you wanted his words to be true, but you couldn’t believe him.

“You made it perfectly clear that you can’t have me.” You took a step back, but he was quick to follow.

“I never made myself clear, you simply assumed.” He corrected you, and you glared at him. He couldn’t blame all of this on you.

“Seeing your wife acting all happy was enough proof.”

“Do you like me?” His voice could barely be heard, he was pleading you. His eyes were searching for yours, but you were trying to take a step back from Baekhyun. In a little over a week, he had made you obsessed with him. You wanted to know everything about him. You wanted to know his most deeply hidden secrets, but he just couldn’t give you what you wanted. He would always leave a part of himself invisible, that’s the kind of man Baekhyun was. You wanted a pure love without complications, but Baekhyun screamed troubles from miles away. Maybe it was best to end it before it could actually start becoming troublesome.

“That doesn’t matter.” You mumbled softly.

“It does! Do you like me Y/N?” He raised his voice while his hands landed on your shoulders. He was trying to make you look at him, but you refused.

“Why?” His hands found their way to your chin, and they demanded you to look up at him. You lost your internal battle the moment your eyes connected. His dark orbs, filled with passion, were enough to make you weak in the knees. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were pleading you to stay.

“Because I have liked you ever since the first moment I laid my eyes on you. Ever since the moment you spilt your drunken secrets, you had me captivated. You’re like a drug, Y/N, and I can’t seem to get enough. I can’t stand seeing you flirt with Chanyeol when it should be me. I told you that I’m selfish, I want you all to myself. I want to spend the rest of my life with you even, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you!” Baekhyun started. There was no stopping him now. He looked determined to make you stay.

“I ache when I see you smile. I want it to be directed toward me. For me. Because of me. I want to bring you joy. I want to be the source of those lit-up eyes.” His voice grew softer when he ended his confession.

“That’s nice Baekhyun, but last time I checked you were still happily married." Tears started to form in your eyes, and you couldn’t act like you were fine anymore. Baekhyun saw your tears and tried to move them away with his fingers, but it only resulted in you crying more. The soft side he had shown you that was solely dedicated to you, was too much for you to handle.

“Make me choose.” He whispered with his hands still covering your cheeks.

“I want you to decide for yourself. I don't want to ruin your marriage.”

“The marriage was already ruined before you came along.”

“Exactly. Why would you leave her now? You could’ve left earlier. The option was always there. Why now?” You asked him desperately while the tears kept falling down.

“It's not as easy as it seems.” He silently confessed. He had already thrown this words into your direction.

“You keep saying that. I will make the decision for you. Let's stop this game that we’re playing. Let’s just end whatever this is.” You told him while fighting through your tears. He let go of your face, and you saw it as a sign to leave. You quickly turned around and marched out of his office.

That’s why you were avoiding him. That’s why you wanted to hate him in your head. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, and you don’t know how he has gotten so comfortable in your head. And you hate the fact that he can mess up your mind so easily. To be honest, you’re afraid of love. You’re scared of feeling that someone keeps sticking to your heart, making you wonder at night if he had feelings for you too. Baekhyun had feelings for you, but he still broke your heart. You know that pain, where you give your heart and someone decides he doesn’t need it. Baekhyun needed it, and he wanted it, but it was just not possible. And if it’s possible, that’s even worse.

And here you are alone, heartbroken, depressed as fuck, and no way out. How could you not remember his shiny smile and his flawless beauty? How could you ever forget his teary eyes when he confessed his love for you? His little grey's anatomy moment where he wanted you to make him choose.

“Y/N!” Baekhyun yelled after you, but you quickened your pace. “Please wait.” He finally caught up with you, and grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Don’t.” You told him while tears were falling from your eyes. You had no control over your body in this moment.

“Don’t leave me. Not before we try to turn this into something.” A single tear left his eye, and you softly brushed his tear away with your thumb.

“What if nothing is there?” Your hand rested on his cheek, and he leaned into your touch. Some people were entering the office again as lunch time was almost over, but you didn’t care. All you cared for was Baekhyun in this moment.

“I would risk it because if you’d let me, I could make you happy.” He kissed the inside of your hand while his eyes remained on yours. The act was so innocent yet the fire inside you started to burn. You wanted more. You needed more of Baekhyun.

“I don’t care about your money, Baekhyun.” Your voice barely a whisper. You wanted your words to be heard by Baekhyun only.

“Let me buy you a drink tonight? Let me buy you dinner? Give me one date?” He started pleading again, but this time you couldn’t say no to him. 

“Where’s your wife?” You asked him.

“She only shows up when she needs money. She already left.” The explanation made no sense, but you didn’t care. She was gone, and that was all you need to know now.

“Okay.” You stated confidently. If your heart was meant to be broken, it was best to have it broken by Baekhyun. The only one who made you feel things. The only man who could turn your insides into mush, and make your cheeks permanently flushed.

“Okay?” He asked your surprised. He couldn’t believe your words, and you couldn’t really believe to yourself.

“I’m just as surprised as you are. Let’s try this once, and only one time.” You told him firmly.

“You won’t regret it.” He told you enthusiastically. 

“You better sweep me off my feet.” You joked with half a smile covering your face, but Baekhyun’s smile reached his ears. He quickly enveloped you in a hug where he lifted you off your feet. “Please put me down, Baekhyun. I didn’t really mean it that literally.” You laughed when he returned you safely on the ground, but he didn’t let go of you yet. His arms stayed draped around you while his eyes were searching for yours. 

“I like this.” He mumbled softly before kissing your cheek. He wanted to kiss your lips, but you quickly maneuvered your way out of his grip.

“No kissing until you confess to me like mister Darcy would confess.” You told him while taking his hand into yours. You motioned for him to follow you to the elevator. Maybe you should find a more discreet spot to confess.

“I already confessed to you like mister Darcy would do. He would be very proud.” He joked with you while his fingers were drawing small circles onto your hand, making your body instantly relax. All you needed was Baekhyun to make the biggest thunders in your heart go away. He told you that you were like a drug to him, but he was really your drug.

“You didn’t tell me that I bewitched you body and soul.” You pouted slightly, making him chuckle lowly. That wonderful sound you could listen to for days and days.

“I said you were like a drug, isn’t that the same sentiment?” He tried to reason with you, but by now he should’ve known better than to reason with you.

“I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules, mister Byun.” You laughed at him, and you could see the love in his eyes. Maybe love was a bit too strong, but you could see the fondness he had for you in his eyes. That was enough for now.

“What have I gotten myself into?” He jokingly asked the ceiling, and you quickly stomped him in the ribs. You could get used to this. You could get used to this side of Baekhyun. You didn’t know what the future would hold, but as you said before; it’s enough for now. And who knows what kind of secrets you could make with Baekhyun. You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t a little bit excited. 

[catchlalune]

When We Collide

authors note: YEs hello!!1 I’m back at it again with the angst because I really don’t know no better. Super special thanks to Mama Bel aka @skzctnightnight​ for being a super awesome beta reader and giving me some awesome feedback (and otherwise encouraging me to finish this lol) also this is a request for my love Clem aka @pockpop​ (who also came up with the title) 

Pairing: Female! Reader x Joshua Hong

CEO! Au, Enemies to lovers, mentions of college

Word Count: 3.9k (literally two words away from being 4k)

Warnings: this deals with unhealthy forms of expression, and a bit of an unhealthy relationship, if this is something that triggers you please for the love of bob DO NOT READ. I am not responsible if you ignore this warning.

You liked listening to Joshua Hong begging for you, more specifically for your assistance. The desperation in his velvety voice, the pout of his pretty pink lips, the wetness of those catlike eyes. Absolutely delicious. Any more desperate and he would be writhing under your cute black kitten heels. 

"And just why should I help you?" 

"Oh come the fuck on, you know why." It's half of a whine and half of a growl and it almost makes you shiver.

"Okay, maybe I'm crazy but did I just hear you say that aloud?" You narrow your eyes at him. 

Joshua is on the very precipice of losing his shit, falling over the edge into anger. And Joshua Hong is a very patient man; it seemed you were the only one who could ever get him like this. You reveled in the idea that on your word and your word alone his very sanity hung in the balance. Good, he sure as hell deserved it. 

You hated Joshua Hong with a stern bitterness that left a nasty taste in your mouth whenever you looked at him. It hadn’t even always been like this, but when he started to change so did your feelings for him. 

In college you two were close, albeit not nearly as close as he and Jeonghan but close enough in your own right. You two were proverbially glued to the hip until he switched into his business major, but he hadn’t started to change until senior year. He’d been working dutifully on his startup project and the many hours you used to spend together would dwindle to minutes, then seconds, and finally only passing glances of tired smiles in between lectures or study groups. Joshua didn’t even show up to group outings with the rest of you anymore. Jeonghan and Vernon had tried to make excuses every time but even they stopped trying to justify his absences and eventually Joshua was nothing more than a small blip on everyone's radar. This was the first time the image of him turned rancid in your mind. 

You had witnessed Joshua’s character development in his college years along with the rest of them, the shy freshman who came straight from Church choir practices into a much more outgoing sophomore, then a funny charismatic leader and finally into someone who flaked on his friends. Did he ever even consider you all friends? You knew switching majors would be hard for him especially in his third year, he had so much to make up but if you knew Joshua Hong you knew that his intelligence and patience would make up for any momentum that he lacked. Maybe it was your fault, you had encouraged him to go for it and in doing so encouraged the downfall of your relationship. 

After everyone graduated and Joshua really got his startup up off the ground he had tried to weasel himself back into your lives, and everyone welcomed him with open arms. Well, everyone save for you. It seemed you were the only one that remembered his betrayal, the only one that felt your blood boil every time he talked about his business ventures and traveling around the world. He had tried so desperately to talk to you one on one but you had successfully thwarted off his advances at catching up time and time again. You, the person he has always held so dear, you, who he felt knew him the most intimately. You who he wanted by his side the most, who he tried to be the best he could be for. He had thought there had always been an unspoken attraction and tenderness between the two of you, but maybe he was wrong, maybe it was just him. Joshua wasn’t sure why there was deep set contempt in the depths of your eyes when you looked at him. Especially not when he had loved you so dutifully, so gently.

There is something distinctly venomous about someone who is generally in a caring and kind disposition being cold to you that makes it feel all the more malicious and cruel. Even more painful is it when it is the person you would lay your life down for. Words that were normally displeasing became heated bullets firing one after the other: scorching, heavy, and stone solid in their weight. Every single time you spoke to Joshua your words were laden with a potent distaste he had no idea you even had in you, you had always been so soft and warm with him. He now knew what it meant to scorn someone who was kind, if only he knew what he had done. 

This continued on for years until the present, the iciness of winter melting into the rebirth of spring to the solid wall of heat that was summer into the cool refuge of autumn four times over. The relationship between the two of you only became worse with the passage of time, the minimal group outings you all had with him always ended with a scathing remark from you towards him. He grew to expect the animosity, and deemed that maybe you hating him was ultimately better than not speaking to him at all. He had put up with it for so so long, trying to get back in your good graces in the best ways he knew how but all his plans backfired. Joshua was floundering in his relationship with you and subsequently all of his friends. He felt it, every time he saw one of you he felt it. 

The tension was always bubbling in the air, so frustratingly out of reach but so real and tangible he could taste it like arsenic in his mouth. In this moment, Joshua sits across from you as you glare at him without any regard to his feelings. He thinks he can finally reach up and grab it. If atmospheres could be seen this one would be as thick and as black as any bottomless abyss. The wait of words not said heavy and suffocating. Hearts beating slow, breath easing in and out in silent whistles of timidness and the reluctance can be the vile taste on their tongues. No one ever wants to speak of how heavy bad things are, because if it is spoken it is real. No one ever wants to be seen as a villain and so they do not speak in this instance, because if they speak it they are real. But you have to say it because this is not a movie, it is not a book and you and Joshua are oh, so real. 

“You’re one of them.” 

There's a pain in both of your chests, hearts writhing in agony at the words you spit out in your frustration. You didn’t like sitting here in this stupid big office in this stupid comfy chair with his stupid presence. 

“You take that back right now (Y/N).” 

His eyes are hard and set and finally you see a semblance of the man you used to know, used to love. 

“No. You don’t get to tell me what to do, I am not one of your lackies. You’re an absolute greedy piece of shit.” You stand from your comfortable perch right after you say it but he stands with you, eyes just as defiant. 

“I said, Take. It. Back.” He reiterates, spite leaking into every punctuated syllable. 

“You asked me for my honesty Mr. Hong, so I gave it to you. Now if you’ll excus-”

“Explain it to me then.” 

“What?” You’re sure you give him a dumb look but he just swallows, you can tell by the way his adams apple bobs and he fixes you with another glare. 

“I said explain.” 

You have to laugh at that. What was there for you to even explain? If he hadn’t gotten it by now he never would. But, you indulge him anyway. 

“You think your cute little attempts at flaunting your wealth over us is welcomed? Do you think your never changing ‘gentlemanly’ act is wanted? We know you so much better than that.” Your words cut at him like razor blades, sharp and serrated and leaving trails of stinging hatred in their wake. 

“What? All I’ve ever done was-”

“Was constantly paid for everything? You never show interest in our group activities and when you do come you treat us like children. ‘Oh you don’t have enough money for this? Let me help you.’ ‘This bill is way too high! Let me pay it.’ ‘I saw you looking at this but it’s so expensive! Let me get it for you!’ Do you know how tiring it is to constantly be coddled? To constantly be reminded that no matter what we do we most likely will never have a sliver of the wealth you do? You’re rich, that’s good for you but some of us like to work hard and save up for the things we want! Some of us like pooling our money together and paying for an extravagant meal! It makes us feel good to know we can have some luxuries, it reminds us of just how hard we’ve worked!”

Your voice was loud now, biting and steadily shoving into his chest pushing him back down to his seat. 

“But I-”

“And the way you act towards us all? We’re supposed to be your friends but you don’t come to us with anything! You don’t tell us when you’re tired, you don’t tell us when you’re hungry, you don’t tell us when you’re hurting! You haven’t for six whole years! You faded out of our lives then thought you could waltz back in like nothing happened! Like you hadn’t discarded us for your fame and success. You think you’re lonely Joshua? You think you’ve been ostracized by us? Have you ever stopped to think for a single second that you did it to yourself? That in your clamoring for acceptance you pushed away the only people who accepted you before you had money?” Your chest heaves, face hot with the admission of your feelings. 

Finally it dawns on Joshua that the emotions he had mistaken for hatred in your eyes for all these years hadn’t been hatred at all, but pain. An unmistakable hurt that could only be left by someone you thought the world of. You had thought the world of Joshua Hong and he had let it slip between his palms to land directly on your chest. 

His mind is too clouded to notice the way you spit out fuck you into the clean air of his office and turn on your heels. It was hours before he looked up, the sun was starting to set, making the sky a pretty palette of pinks, oranges, and purples. The echo of your footfalls that had long since gone in the recesses of his mind, the air still smelled faintly of your scent and it drove him right back to the brink of insanity.

Joshua Hong was very tired, and very very lonely. The only words of comfort to him were the ones you left swirling in the air before you left him to sit there in a worn out slump. 

☆☆☆☆

“Maybe I shouldn’t have told you to talk to her.” Jeonghan speaks to Joshua over the edge of his crystal shot glass, eyes burning into him like the taste of soju burned down their throats. Joshua was another bottle away from being absolutely shit faced. The ambience of the bar leads them into a false sense of comfort, the billowing streams of smoke from ashtrays and smells of cheap booze lingering in the air as they relaxed into the uncomfortable steele of the bar stools. The Tipsy Fox wasn’t the most savory of establishments, the lights were always so dim you could barely make out your own hands if they weren’t five inches away from your face, though the bathrooms were always modestly clean they wouldn’t be that way for very long, it didn’t have a no smoking policy so the air was always thick with the smell of tobacco amongst other things-never mind the fact it was always humid. 

In plain words: not fit for a billionaire. Not that Joshua had really cared about his image much after the conversation the two of you had. It had been nearly a month by now and though Vernon and Jeonghan had offered solace in their company they had definitely relayed that they most definitely had the same ill feelings though not quite as intense as you. He confronted (or more like cried to) everyone else later that night after your conversation and it left his soul feeling weary. Woozi and Minghao had chided him and when they listened to his reasoning they had asked if he had even listened to your words. They were not as forgiving as Jeonghan and Vernon (especially Minghao, who was what seemed to be your new best friend? When had that even happened?) but not nearly as stingy as you had been.

Over the course of the month there were some hard feelings and some disagreements but nothing that wasn’t able to be ironed out with long open-minded conversations. Finally everyone had come to the agreement that if he worked harder at just being present in general then it might restore the friendships much faster. They were so patient and so willing to speak with him he felt like you had completely blind sided him. He flip flopped between understanding the logic behind your ill feelings towards him and not getting how you could be so uncompromising when everyone else was. The latter was what he was feeling at the moment confiding in Jeonghan. 

“I just don’t understand Han, how do I fix it if (Y/N) won’t let me?” 

There’s a few beats of silence before Jeonghan sighs and pours each of them another shot. Joshua downs it as soon as it’s filled and Jeonghan sucks his teeth. He made a mental note to not pour anymore drinks for him. 

“Shua, you’re both going to drive me insane. Why can’t you two just talk to each other like adults instead of putting me in the middle of it?” The question is more rhetorical than anything else as he mutters it to himself but Joshua still hears him, a faint sparkle lights up his brown eyes. 

“She talked to you about me?” 

Jeonghan shifts back in his seat and gives his friend a long hard look. The dim lighting only made the bags under his eyes appear darker but he still looked good, Joshua always looked nice. His eyes shift past Joshua to your visage which draws more than just his glance as you walk into the dingy bar. 

Even for a normal person you'd look like a mirage, silky green dress hugging your frame like a dream and face made up in a natural look. You carry yourself with an air of confidence that you've hardly ever done. Jeonghan could tell you were more than feeling yourself tonight. 

It doesn't take Joshua long to catch the way Jeonghan was no longer paying attention to him so he turns to the direction his friend is looking and he swears his heart almost falls out his ass. You have finally crossed the bar to them and for a second Josh forgets all the years and pain and thinks you'll be settling in next to him for a long conversation about whatever for however long. Even with you wearing the color he most despised you look simply ravishing. His face heats up, feeling absolutely touch starved as he takes in the way your hand curls around your glass after getting your drink. How long has he been staring that you've had enough time to order and receive it?

“You know, it’s impolite to stare.” You don’t spare him a glance, instead sipping the cool drink from the glass in your hand. 

“How can I not when you’re so pretty?” You stop, glass half way raised to your lips with the feeling of fire etched beneath your skin. 

“I am so sorry, he’s really drunk right n-”

“I’m not drunk, I just thought she should know.” 

Jeonghan was trying to fix it, and had Joshua just let him there wouldn’t be this weird tension hanging in the air. They watch as you finish bringing your drink to your lips and take a large gulp before placing it on the polished wood to look at Joshua. 

Again, you don’t exchange words but you do take him in wholly. From the disheveled look of his silky cream colored button down (that had three buttons undone), to the messiness of his blue hair he was currently carding his hand through, to the faint flush on his cheeks, the way his black slacks fit his thighs, all the way to his eyes- brown and full of so much unspoken you had a feeling if you let the words fall out of his lips they would tumble around for hours. Yes, Joshua Hong was a sight. Ethereal sitting in an old bar while lighting the place up, you wondered if he felt the hungry stares from everyone else. For a moment you forgot all the ill feelings, feeling just as hungry as they looked. 

You finish your drink before standing with a sigh. 

“Come on, you need to sober up...before you do something stupid.” 

Jeonghan and Joshua blink at you before the former tries to suppress a smile, he fails miserably. 

The Tipsy Fox isn’t the most savory of establishments but it leads to a long night of you three eating hangover soup together as Jeonghan tells really bad jokes to get everyone to laugh. And when it is finally over after the sun begins to peek its head over the top of the horizon and you are alone in your bed with a full tummy you think about how it reminds you of the past. You wouldn’t admit it out loud but it feels so good your heart melts and feels a lot less frozen. You really wish you could hate Joshua Hong. 

☆☆☆☆

The next time you two meet it’s been a week since your heart has begun to thaw and you weren’t expecting to see him here at all, had you been you definitely would be wearing something much more flattering. But the more important thing was, how had he even remembered this old place? An old run of the mill rinky dink bookstore surely could’ve been easily forgotten by someone who probably didn’t even have time to read books anymore. Did he have time to read books anymore? Is that why he never had time to speak to any of you? 

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Josh flashes you a warm smile that makes that fire ignite under your skin again.

 He couldn’t have come at a worst time, here you are sat on a stool (courtesy of the store owner) in leggings and an oversized sweater with a copy of Song of Solomon perched between your fingers. In an effort to look uninterested in his presence you languidly run your gaze up and down his body before looking back at the pages. Hopefully the sweat on your palms wouldn’t make the hardcover slip right from between them. Was this always the effect he had on you or had it just been because of that spark you felt a week ago?

“That makes two of us.”

“Toni Morrison is a good author.” 

You have to pick your head up to look at him not expecting the two of you to talk over each other, a wave of confusion crossing over your features. Joshua on the other hand just laughs, he wears that particular shade of mirth well. It makes your stomach churn. 

“You weren’t expecting me to be here either?”

“She is a good author.” 

 You crinkle your nose and Joshua laughs even harder. His laughter warms up the quiet store in a way that has the owner popping her head in the aisle with a small smile of her own. An old woman much older looking now than she was when the two of you were still in college. Back then things had been much easier, and the hole in the wall bookstore was a safe haven even when you didn’t need to study and the library was packed. The two of you had just happened upon it on a random late afternoon walk and it had quickly become your place. A little pocket of normalcy in the chaos of campus life, a place that when you stepped in felt as though space and time was at a stand still. 

Now, Joshua sits across from you at the small table the two of you used to use to study waiting for your tea to cool as the old woman talks your ear off about how Joshua had been a faithful regular and even bought the property when she had been in danger of losing it all. She doesn’t leave until your cup is finished and Joshua has nearly melted into the cushy chair beneath him. You stare at him for a while before you say anything again. 

“You remembered?” 

You remember telling Joshua once that you would love it if the two of you could buy it from the old woman one day so you could run it in your old age. He had agreed heartily but you were sure it was just from the mixture of exhaustion and alcohol the two of you consumed. It was only a passing comment though you had definitely meant every word of it. 

“I remember everything about you.” 

You bristle at the comment, how could he say something like that so nonchalant and act as if he hadn’t? 

“You don’t mean that.” 

He takes a long sip of his tea and takes his time setting down the porcelain. The look he gives you is a mixture of sad and weary and you almost wish you hadn’t said it. Normal people would have sighed or shown any form of displeasure, but not Joshua Hong. He sits with you and stares with a level amount of patience that makes you itch. 

“How could I ever forget something important to someone I love?” 

“You don’t-”

“Please, I’ve always loved you. Do you think I’d be sitting here if I didn’t? You may not believe me but I’ve always told you in my own way, though I’m not very good with those words.” 

You swallow thickly feeling like a piece of cotton is lodged in your throat and won’t move. This was not something you were prepared to do today. 

“The way you expressed your pain wasn’t very healthy but the way I dealt with my career wasn’t very healthy either. Shutting each other out and not talking hasn’t been working for the last six years, so can we try something different?” 

His voice is pleading, forcing you to look into his eyes. Had you made him look like that? Did you look the same? You could feel the wet stinging at the corners of your eyes now, threatening to spill over and splatter against the table top like silent gun shots full of repressed emotions. 

“Something different?”

His lips tilt upwards at your question, finally feeling like he was making some progress. 

“Why don’t we start by meeting here every Wednesday to read together and talk about our feelings and then once we’ve both gotten better coping mechanisms we try something more?” 

It doesn’t even take you half a minute to answer him.