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luvdsc · 4 years

Text

doing the bf tag with my bf.

hey, siri, does bf stand for best friend or boyfriend? (or both?)

pairing :: na jaemin x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + youtuber au word count :: 4,691 words warnings :: none playlist :: mean it (lauv & lany) ⋆ always, i’ll care (jeremy zucker) ⋆ fearless (taylor swift) ⋆ fingers crossed (coin) ⋆ cardiac arrest (bad suns) author’s note :: this fic is a tiny bit different than my usual writing because i emphasize more on dialogue than description in order to mimic a youtube video. happy birthday to this absolute darling angel! you have the biggest heart in the universe, and thank you for sharing so much of it with the world ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

Your subscribers have always wondered if you would do this type of video countless of times, and you never thought you’d ever actually record one due to the state of your love life (or lack thereof), yet here you are.

Unfortunately, the romantic department of your life still remains very much empty though. But lucky for you, so is your best friend’s. And that pretty much works out perfectly because he could stand in for your nonexistent boyfriend in order to complete the popular GF/BF tag (along with a hidden challenge that was popular by demand and personally requested by a certain friend with a flair for baking. Now if only the frantic butterflies in your stomach would settle down just enough for you to do it).

After all, BF could stand for either boyfriend or best friend, right?

It’s also no secret that yours and Jaemin’s subscribers shipped you two together either. Heck, you may be a little delusional as well because you ship yourself with your best friend, too. Blame the massive crush you’ve been secretly harboring. But two best friends sharing an apartment and frequently appearing in videos on each of your respective channels? In the eyes of your fans, that’s basically the perfect setup for a modern day love story.

It would 100% be the greatest love story since Kat and Patrick in 10 Things I Hate About You, but at this point in your life, your story is going to be marked down as a tragedy. You feel even more hopeless and dramatic than Romeo was about his unrequited love for Rosaline. Also, that dude got over her way too quickly at the sight of another pretty girl. You wish that would happen for you, too, but your heart is much too stubborn over Jaemin.

When you had asked him if he would do the video with you, Jaemin immediately agreed much to your initial surprise. The publicity would be good though, you surmise later on, and both our fan bases would grow, so of course, he would agree. It’s not like your best friend liked you back. That would be absolutely absurd.

“Are you ready?” Jaemin speaks up, breaking your train of thought, and you’re slightly startled. He plops down in the plush pink rolling chair next to you, the chair moving back a few inches. He scooches it closer to your own chair, buzzing with excitement. You smile at your best friend, pushing down the butterflies erupting in your stomach. You nod before reaching forward and pressing the record button on the camera set up in front of you. You pull up the list of questions on your phone.

“Yeah, let's do this.”

How did we meet?

“Oh, this is an easy question,” Jaemin says, flashing his award winning smile at the camera before he throws his arm around you happily, hugging you affectionately. “It was freshman year. You ran into me. Literally. We were in the same class, and it just ended. You were trying to shove your textbook into your bag and didn’t notice where you were walking until you face-planted into my back.”

The memory is still fresh in your mind, and you remember how you had already resigned yourself to your fate of becoming good friends with the floor. But Lady Luck was on your side for once, and she sent an angel in the form of Na Jaemin to save you from embarrassment on your first day of university.

“Yeah, I almost fell flat on my butt, but luckily, Nana has great reflexes and when he turned around, he grabbed my arm before I hit the ground,” you add on, still squished into his side. He beams, eyes crinkling into half moon crescents before placing a kiss on your cheek and turning back to the camera.

Your heart skips a beat, but you ignore it. Jaemin has always been affectionate, and kisses were all in good fun. You continue on, plastering a nonchalant smile on your face. “And he said, ‘Looks like you just fell for me.’ And then he insisted that we get lunch together.”

“And the rest is history!” he exclaims happily, resting his cheek on the top of your head. You smile fondly before going onto the next question.

Where was our first date?

“The dining hall immediately after you ran into me.”

“That wasn’t a date,” you interject. “We can skip this question since we aren’t dating.”

Jaemin shrugs, waiting for you to read the next question. He murmurs faintly under his breath, “It was supposed to be one.”

We’re going out to eat, where are we going?

Jaemin answers immediately, leaning back in his chair. “The little pizza place down the block! They always make three different types of unique pizza everyday, and once they sell out, they close for the day.”

“We always go on Wednesday because they make both of our favorite pizzas then.” You chime in, and he nods enthusiastically, moving closer to the front and throwing his hands up in the air for emphasis. “They have corn and potato pizza that day!”

You wrinkle your nose slightly before leaning towards the camera. “To my subscribers, for the record, I assure you that I have better taste than that, and I love the artichoke pesto pizza with ricotta.”

What food do I dislike?

“... Corn and potato pizza,” he says reluctantly with a pout. “And kiwis. The outside is furry and creeps you out, and the fruit makes your tongue itch.”

You flash a thumbs up at the camera, and your best friend grins, puffing up his chest. Chuckling quietly, you shake your head before answering the question yourself. “And this dork absolutely hates anything strawberry flavored. And he’s lactose intolerant, so dairy is his enemy.”

“I love cheese, but cheese hates me,” he says mournfully, hanging his head down low before he jumps back up and reads the following question listed on your phone’s screen aloud.

Who is my best friend?

“Me!” Jaemin shouts gleefully, throwing his hands up in the air, and you can’t help but laugh, grinning widely at your best friend, a fond expression on your face.

“You.”

Am I a morning person or a night person?

“We’re both night people,” you say, and Jaemin nods in agreement. “You won’t catch either of us waking up before noon if we can’t help it, and we each have to set up like five alarms just to wake up.”

“It works out because we can stay up together watching movies or editing our videos,” he adds in, turning to you and smiling fondly. “And I always have a partner when I want to go on a midnight snack run to the convenience store nearby.”

Do we have a song? What is it?

“Jeremy Zucker’s Always, I’ll Care.”

“That’s our song?” You’re surprised. You were going to mention one of the go-to karaoke songs the two of you liked to belt out on the top of your lungs after a movie and wine night. Jaemin makes a great Sharpay Evans when you both want to bop to the top.

“It’s the song that reminds me of you,” he says, voice growing softer as he reaches the end of the sentence. Curse your heart for melting into a puddle. His cheeks turn pink under your gaze, and he becomes uncharacteristically shy, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Anyway, what’s the next question?”

What’s my nickname?

“Nana!” You reach out to poke his cheek, and he puffs them up before pouting at you. He reaches out and pinches your cheek.

“I call you ‘angel’ sometimes. It’s why your channel is called peachyangel.”

What's my weirdest habit?

“Jaemin eats way too much cilantro,” you state, swinging around side to side in your rolling chair.

“I do not!” he protests loudly, and you give him a blank stare. The two of you sit there in silence, not breaking eye contact until he finally relents.

“Okay, maybe I do. But you pour cereal before milk!”

“That’s not a weird habit!” You defend yourself. You are appalled at your best friend. Neither of you have ever woken up early enough for breakfast, so this has never come up before. If you would’ve known this in the past, maybe you wouldn’t be so ridiculously in love with him in the present.

“Yes, it is! Your cereal gets all soggy that way!”

“Only idiots pour their milk first!”

He clutches his heart dramatically. “Are you calling me an idiot?!”

“... So moving onto the next question—”

What do you think I’m talented at?

“Making people fall in love with you,” Jaemin blurts out, and your eyes widen at his answer as your grip on your phone loosens considerably.

“I—I mean, you’re just so approachable, and you’re kind to everyone. You care so much about everyone and everything. People feel comfortable around you, they always gravitate towards you, and you just— I don’t know, you make people feel loved,” he explains, unable to meet your eyes, and his cheeks darken. He fiddles around with the loose strand on his sweater sleeve.

Your heart swells ten times bigger and beats faster than ever. You wonder if Jaemin knows he has the same effect on everyone, too. You hope he does.

You wonder if he knows you’re in love with him and if he would love you back. You hope he does.

When was the first time you said “I love you” to me?

“Uh, we can skip this one, too,” you say awkwardly, but he throws his arm around your shoulder again, hugging you tightly. “Nope, not skipping! I have the answer to this one!”

He grins toothily at the camera before pinching your cheek for a second time affectionately. “I said ‘I love you’ when you showed up at my dorm and brought me pop tarts at three in the morning after I accidentally drunk texted you, instead of Jeno. That’s when I knew you were a keeper.”

“I did that because I felt bad about throwing up on your shoes at the party we went to the weekend before that,” you mumble, face growing warm when you remember your best friend’s drunken confession a few years back. “Besides, you were drunk. It doesn’t count.”

“Okay, fine, but we say it to each other all the time. The second time I said it was when you brought me chicken nuggets, and I was hungover, but sober.” He says, spinning in his chair.

“I can see the pattern now. You say it when I bring you food,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest with a fake pout. “You love food, not me.”

“That’s not true!” he exclaims, halting mid spin and facing you. He turns your chair towards him, moving forward to clutch both of your hands in his, and stares directly into your eyes seriously. “I love you.”

You inaudibly gulp, helplessly gazing back at him as you feel your face begin to burn, your heart speeding up in your chest. Jaemin grins, leaning back and letting go of your hand. “See? I love you!”

“Y-yeah.” You swallow hard, fumbling over your words. “You love me.”

What is your favorite thing about me?

“Your laugh,” Jaemin replies honestly, reaching out and absentmindedly drawing circles on the back of your hand as he looks at you. “Hyuck told me the other day that whenever I try to do something funny or make a joke, I have a habit of turning towards you for your reaction. It makes me kinda proud that I can make you laugh.”

You know that you’re stupidly grinning like an absolute idiot at this point, but you don’t care. You even almost forget about the camera.

“Your smile,” you answer, maintaining eye contact with him. Your smile widens when you see one appear on his face, his eyes shining brightly. “You have the prettiest smile, and I’m grateful that I’m able to see it everyday or be the cause of it sometimes.”

What film always makes me cry?

“Oh, The Lion King.” Jaemin responds automatically. “We both cry our eyes out at the stampede moment and when Simba tells his dad to wake up.”

“When we saw the live action version together, we brought along a ton of tissues with us, and he used almost all of them.”

What drink do I always order?

“Jaemin is crazy and always gets a venti iced americano with no water and eight espresso shots. He used to drink it six times a day until I yelled at him about it,” you say, shaking your head at the camera before glancing over at your best friend. “It’s seriously bad for your health.”

His lips jut out into a pout as he whines, “You wouldn't let me cuddle with you until I changed it!”

“It was for your own good! Plus, that drink tasted like battery acid!” You exclaim, and he sulks quietly before begrudgingly agreeing. You pat his head in consolation, and he grabs your hand, naturally interlocking your fingers with his.

“I drink it less now and with only two and half shots.”

If I could, what candy could I eat all day long?

“Chocolate,” you blurt out immediately. “Jaemin is a chocolate fanatic. But he’ll take anything with sugar. He has such a sweet tooth. He eats brown sugar when he’s bored. Even his boba drink has 100% sugar.”

“It’s as sweet as you.” Jaemin winks at you exaggeratingly, and you roll your eyes, turning your face away slightly to hide the smile that begins to spread across your face.

“Y/N likes matcha green tea Kit Kats.” He leans closer to the camera, peering into the lens in a serious manner. “If any chocolate companies are watching this, we are both open to sponsorships.”

If I could live anywhere in the world, where would I live?

“Here,” Jaemin says confidently, beaming at you, “You’d want to live here with me. And I want to live here, too. Because this is the bestest place in the world.” He hesitates, faltering for a moment before searching your eyes. “Right?”

Who are you to say no to that?

You smile at him. “Right.”

What am I deathly afraid of?

“You’re afraid of spiders,” he announces, “You make me take care of all the spiders in the apartment.”

“Yeah, it’s the only reason I keep you around,” you say casually, and he gasps, insulted. You give him a cheeky smile. “I’m just kidding.”

He scowls at you, lips pulled into a frown. “You better be.”

What is the first thing that I do in the morning?

“Jaemin is never awake before I am,” you inform the camera, crossing your legs. “I have to wake him up first if we go anywhere.”

“Even if you don’t have to go to an event, you still wake up early to make sure I’m awake, so I won’t be late. So that’s what you do first thing in the morning: wake me up.” Jaemin nudges your leg. “You always come into my room as a blanket burrito with your comforter wrapped around you.”

“That’s because I have to face the treacherous cold to make sure you aren’t late to your events. But you still end up late anyway because you drag me down onto your bed and refuse to let me go until we lay there for twenty minutes,” you grumble, pulling up your legs onto your chair and wrapping your arms around your knees.

“Cuddling is a good way to conserve body heat and start the morning,” Jaemin states, waving his arms around to emphasize his point.

“Really? Do studies show that it’s beneficial to cuddle in the morning?”

“I don’t know.” Jaemin shrugs, making a noncommittal noise. He smiles at you, causing your stomach to do flip flops and your heart to do cartwheels. “But it makes me happy every morning, so I’d say that’s enough proof.”

Who usually wins our arguments?

“Y/N does,” Jaemin sighs heavily, leaning back against his chair in resignation. “You always win.”

“It’s true.” You nod, patting Jaemin’s arm consolingly. “It’s tough always being right, but someone has to do it.”

“You always pout, too, and I just give in because you’re too cute,” he says casually, and you freeze in your seat. Never mind the fact that he’s implying you’re wrong, Na Jaemin just called you cute.

Good thing this is caught on camera because this means you can secretly watch this multiple times in private. And also cringe over your awkward reaction, but let’s not talk about that right now because once again, Jaemin just called you cute. You! Cute! Jaemin! Your mind is honestly short circuiting, and you can’t do anything, except nod and smile like a complete fool.

What do we usually argue about?

“Adopting,” Jaemin says solemnly. Eyes widening, you wait for a moment, but he offers no explanation. You lightly shove his chair, and he rolls a few inches away. “Nana, you can't just end it like that! You have to say more than that!”

Turning towards the camera, you hurriedly explain, “He’s talking about pets. He wants to adopt five dogs and name them after Jisung, Chenle, Jeno, Renjun, and Mark. And then he wants to adopt a snake and name it after Donghyuck.”

“She said we could only get one dog and the snake.” Jaemin scowls, slumping in his seat as he stares into the camera. “I can’t believe she isn’t letting me get five dogs. I love Jisung and all non-Jisung’s equally.”

What’s my favorite clothing item?

“It’s not even yours. You always steals my white hoodie. I haven’t been able to wear it for the past month,” Jaemin complains, and you have the decency to look a little guilty.

You play with the strings of said hoodie that’s currently engulfing your body, curling into yourself as you tuck your face into the sweater like a turtle. “Your clothes smell nice.”

“But we use the same laundry detergent.” Jaemin wrinkles his eyebrows, confusion evident in his eyes. “All our clothes smell like snuggles and cotton.”

“It’s not the same,” you insist, wrinkling your nose, and he shakes his head, lips curling into a smile. He reaches over and tugs the hood of the sweater over your head playfully.

“Okay, whatever you say, angel. You look better in them than me anyway.”

Where am I on a Friday night?

“You’re here with me, eating Chinese take out and watching Criminal Minds,” you answer, and he agrees, nodding.

“We just finished watching all twelve seasons on Netflix, so if anyone has any show recommendations, please send them in!”

What is my weirdest interest?

“Once again, my clothes,” Jaemin says, and you begin to protest but he wags his finger at you. “No, no, no, you don’t get to disagree! You hoarded like six of my sweaters in your closet. I bought you the exact same sweater for your birthday, but you still take mine!”

You silently decide that it is better to accept this defeat than correct him because you actually have seven of his sweaters and a few tee shirts as well.

Who’s my favorite YouTuber?

“Me!” Jaemin’s hand shoots up in the air. “I’m your favorite YouTuber. Next question.”

Your hands start to get clammy as you look down at the final question you have been saving for last. It’s been a good fifteen minutes, and the butterflies still haven’t subsided. If anything, they seem to have multiplied and transformed into a whole rampaging zoo complete with elephants and monkeys.

“Uh, are you sure about that, Nana? ShowMeTheMonet is really good. I also really like itsmebetch a lot.” You stall for time, staring at the last question until the words are stamped in your mind. “Dream Unsolved and Worth It are amazing, too.”

Suddenly, Jaemin is right in front of you as he spins your chair around to face him, frowning and complaining, “What do you mean I’m not your favorite? You’re my favorite! What kind of best friend are you? This is a betrayal! An insult! This is worse than Jisung not calling me his favorite! How could you do this to m—”

“Okay, okay, you’re my favorite! I’m sorry! It was a joke,” you interrupt, but he turns away from you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, go make a video with ShowMeTheMonet instead.” He sulks, shoulders hunched over. “If you like her so much, go be best friends with her.”

“I’m sorry! I’ll buy you all the chocolate you want after this,” you plead with him, placing your phone on the table next to you. “I’ll even buy you boba everyday for a week!”

Jaemin brightens up at that immediately. “Oh, yeah! I want some milk tea after this! Okay, what’s the last question?”

You swallow hard, nervously fiddling with the hoodie strings once more and shoving all the butterflies down to the pit of your stomach. Twisting in your seat, you move your chair and spin his around until you’re both facing each other, knees touching.

“‘Where and when was our first kiss?’”

At the immediate thought of kissing you, his cheeks explode in various shades of pink, the tips of his ears catching fire. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about kissing you daily. Heck, he had to stop himself from doing so earlier when you were burying your face in his stolen hoodie. It’s so unfair that you’re always so cute and looking so… so… kissable.

“I, uh, I don’t think I can answer that,” your best friend stammers out as his eyes dart towards your lips before meeting yours.

“But you got all the other answers right.” Your voice comes out steadier than you thought it would, and you mentally pat yourself on the back. Gnawing on your bottom lip, you pause for a moment, balling your hands into fists before uncurling them and asking hesitantly, “Should I help you out?”

“Yes.” He wonders how exactly you can help him out. Oh god, did he kiss you before when he was drunk? But you would’ve told him if he did that. What if he had ki—

A soft pair of lips lands on his.

You’re kissing him. Oh my god, you’re kissing him! Jaemin wants to jump up and shout it from the rooftops. His heart leaps from his chest, and he’s wildly cheering in his mind as fireworks explode around him before he suddenly remembers that he has to kiss you back.

And so he does.

Jaemin tugs you closer until you’re pulled onto his lap, a muffled squeak of surprise coming from you, and he laughs as he presses his lips against yours more firmly, hands gripping your thighs as you straddle him. Your arms loop around his neck, and your heart ricochets in your chest as you kiss him back until your lungs are screaming for oxygen and you have to pull away.

Jaemin positively beams at you, eyes sparkling as he leans forward and nuzzles his nose against yours affectionately. He laughs breathlessly, resting his forehead against yours. “Yeah, that was really helpful. Our first kiss just happened right here a few seconds ago. And now, our second kiss is about to happen.”

Your best friend closes the distance, crashing his lips against yours once more, and you kiss him back just as fervently, smiling against his lips as he does the same. Never in either of your wildest dreams did you think this was going to happen, but you sure as heck aren’t complaining, and neither is he.

When the two of you finally break apart, you bury your face into the crook of his neck, flustered, and Jaemin laughs giddily, cheeks flushed and eyes twinkling. He hugs you tightly to his chest before nudging you to look up at him. “So did I get a 100% on the boyfriend tag?”

“Yes,” you say, sitting up straight on his lap and grabbing both of his hands in each of your own, intertwining your fingers with his. “You got twenty five out of twenty five. Congratulations on your perfect score.”

“Technically, you did do the boyfriend tag with your boyfriend then, right?” he says slyly, squeezing your fingers. “Shouldn’t I get some bonus points for helping you do the tag correctly?”

You chuckle, failing to contain your smile. “Okay, fine, you get bonus points, too. You did an A plus job, Nana.”

“I’ll take those bonus points in the form of kisses.” He puckers his lips at you, and you easily comply, wordlessly leaning forward to give him one, two, three kisses.

Jaemin grins at you, positively delighted before he attacks you with kisses, peppering soft kisses onto your cheeks, forehead, chin, the tip of your nose, and everywhere else in between until he finally kisses your lips gently.

If this was a cartoon, there would be hearts floating around his head and shooting from his eyes. He leans forward again to kiss you one more time for good measure. You smile mischievously, tilting your head to the side slightly as your hands curl around his shirt. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you want for your bonus points?”

His eyebrows furrow for a split second before his entire face lights up. Jaemin carefully cradles you, picking you up as his grip tightens under your thighs. You let out a quiet squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck, as he stands up enthusiastically.

“Cut the cameras!”

One new notification: peachyangel uploaded a new video!

nana ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ commented:

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ANGEL 🥺💗💞💖💗🤩💝💕💜🤧💖💘😭💘🌼💐🥺💖🥺🥺🥺

peachyangel replied: ily too baby 🥺🤧💖💖

insert goofy’s chuckle commented:

is this allowed?? there are minors here 😫 jisung look away

peachyangel replied: get your mind out of the gutter, ya nasty 🙄 we turned off the cam because he wanted to go get milk tea

jisung pwark replied: I’m 18!!!!! Stop treating me like a child!!!

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ jisung pwark stop making me cut the crusts off of your sandwiches then

big head king replied: @ ghosts are real so suck it hyuck how come you don’t cut the crusts off of my sandwiches 😭😭

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ big head king because you are a grown adult and jeno already does it for you

jenojam commented:

congrats jaemin!! :)

Starbucks Official commented:

we would love to sponsor you, Mr. Na!

FIGHTING HAEYADWAE commented:

OH YOU ARE NANA!!1!1!!! 🤯🤯

ShowMeTheMonet commented:

um hello i would love to do the gf tag with you! i accept!!! it would be an honor 🤩

peachyangel replied: omg yes!!!! 🥺🥺 let’s do it soon 💖

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ nana ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ did… did we just lose our gfs 🤧

mork lee rawr xD commented:

hahaha nice guys ! this was really cute haha

ty track commented:

the babies are all growing up too fast ):

jeno is my favorite commented:

.... i feel so single @.@

DonutKillMyVibe commented:

let it be known that I was the friend who challenged @ peachyangel to do the challenge and hence, I am the reason these two are together 👀👀

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck commented:

someone should make an updated version of that jaemin complaining video compilation with this

big head king commented:

ayyy you all are the GOAT 🐐🐐🐐

jenojam commented:

so are we just gonna let it slide when he called everyone except jisung “non jisungs” ?

jisung pwark replied: 😎😎

insert goofy’s chuckle commented:

is no one gonna comment on how he called me a snake?????

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle is no one gonna comment on how much of a clown hyuck is???

insert goofy’s chuckle replied: @ ghosts are real so suck it hyuck wtf? where did this even come from

ghosts are real so suck it hyuck replied: @ insert goofy’s chuckle sorry I thought we were stating the obvious here

big head king replied: LOLOLOL

apado gwenchana god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

3K notes · View notes

missgeniality · 4 years

Text

A Work Of Art (m)

“In our life there is a single color, as on an artist’s palette, which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the color of love.” - Marc Chagall

➺ Banner: The lovely @dee-ehn 💕

➺ Pairing: Jimin x Female Reader

➺ Genre: PWP, Smut, Slightest Angst

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 7.3k

➺ Summary: You surprise Jimin with his Filter outfit; and then some.

➺ Warnings: tongues get tired in this fic, dom!jimin, we talk about spit, some biting, jimin loves praise, lingerie n stuff, nipple play, oral sex (m&f receiving), we talk more about spit, some bondage is involved, degrading names, blindfolds, spanking (maybe too much, don’t look @ me), light choking, light face-fucking, cum eating, we talk even more about spit, hickeys galore, some edging?, unprotected sex (don’t do it kids, not even for Jimin)

➺ Author’s Note: (repost bc tags, you know how it is) huge s/o to @ilikemesometaetaes for making time to beta read this monstrosity 💜 thank youuuu! Also thanks to @honeiibeehobi, @kithtaehyung for helping me with the many many details & @ppersonnafor hyping up this idea or else it would have never seen the light of day ;_; lol i will come back to edit this cuz this didnt let me focus on my paper due tonight so if you see a spelling mistake or tense error umm no you didnt 👀

do let me know your thoughts!! the smallest feedback goes a long way! 💛💛

This is the first part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!

Y/N: soooooo, I did a thing. JM: is the dishwasher flooding our kitchen again? Y/N: -_- i’ll give you two more guesses. JM: oh no. you picked up a dog from the street again. Y/N: come onn!! JM: y/n, last time you picked one up, HE HAD AN OWNER Y/N: you’re down to your last try, or else i’m taking this off. JM: … JM: so its something you have on? 😏 Y/N: pic_210124.jpg JM: holy shit JM: wait wait fuck JM: keep the door unlocked.

“You like?”

The bob in his Adam’s apple wordlessly conveys the answer you’re looking for.

A crisp, white, button down shirt, tucked into black trousers, topped off with a panama hat that matches your top half is the view Jimin comes home to. Your dress pays homage to Jimin’s Filter outfit - actually, the exact one - the one that showcased his immaculate dance moves, the one that exposes his delicious collarbones, the one that brings the irresistible urge to bite your way up his neck - the one he eventually rids.

If you had to pick a color, he is a flustered orange, bright and blushing, turned on by the indecent implication of your very decent outfit.

You’re on the counter, one leg crossed over the other, accentuating the swell of your ass. Landing on the pads of your feet, you take a few steps towards the man with the unhinged jaw.

“Babe.” a mellow croak - Jimin can’t get a whole sentence out without saliva pooling and obstructing his speech. “You, in my clothes… fuck.”

Chuckling at his very obvious loss of words, you give him a twirl, allowing him to fully soak in your outfit.

“Was waiting for you.”

Three long strides and you were in his arms, a pair of lips desperate to invade your space and claim you. An Angel on your shoulder tells you to give in; after all, this is the end result - what you both want.

However, the Devil on the other side, no no no. It wants you to make him suffer. To get revenge for all the times you were taken control of. It remembers all the days he turned you on with shoot photographs and all the nights he brought you to the brink only to stop you from tipping over with a cocky smirk and a cheeky wink.

The Devil was created from the moments when you thought you would actually erupt, begging for release, only to be shoved aside with a single growl of ‘don’t you fucking dare.’

Your desire to please him effectively silenced the Devil and kept it at bay. But no more. All those times built up and gave your Devil the power to force its way against your will to restrain it, causing it to rise to the surface.

You will have the upper hand.

So you push him away, keeping him at an arm’s length for your safety to have him on his toes. Forlorn eyes meet your steely ones, and you physically stop yourself from giving in to his puppy gaze - those eyes can turn icy and sultry when nailing you into the bed like his rent depended on it.

“Sit there. I have a-” You turn to switch on some music, “-small present for you.”

“If the small present isn’t me folding you in half and fucking you till sunrise,” He sits with visible reluctance, irises slowly transforming into magma orbs, “I don’t want it.”

“Well, we’ll see… Depends on how you behave.”

On a normal day, this comment would have lit your ass on fire, pronto.

Today isn’t a normal day at all.

You stride on, every noiseless step you take leaving a wreckage of nerves behind, ignoring the smoldering gaze he has locked on you- you are unsure whether he is deciding your punishment or simply admiring how his clothes fit on your body.

You stand on the side, drinking him in.

From your viewpoint, this is ridiculous. Those cursed jeans, vacuumed onto his thighs, ensure your eyes don’t miss a single ridge. His legs are spread out, beckoning you to have a seat, and the Angel once again begs for some reprieve. He knows what he’s doing; knows you inside and out- knows you couldn’t miss a chance to ride him like this. The wicked smirk flashing back at you is confirmation.

But you stymy that thought at its root. Walking behind, you wrap your arms around him to faintly buss his cheek.

“Sooo I was watching Filter…”

Jimin hums against your feeble touch. He wants more. The soft wind of your breath routing through his jeweled ear sends a wave of goosebumps down his spine. From behind, you run your hands over his sinewy biceps, taut in restraint - holding themselves back against the suffering you are putting him through.

“You do know how fucking hot you looked, right?” You playfully let your tongue toy with the hanging ornament, the briefest of flicks causing Jimin’s shoulders to push back, trying to connect with your bosom.

With a crooked finger under his jaw, you bring him to meet your eyes- eyes that are adorned with layered shadows of deep maroons, a variety of colors blending into your skin tone, eyelashes piqued up and ready to reach the clouds.

“So pretty…” He whispers out as you place your hat on its rightful throne - Jimin’s head.

A lone digit traces the lines of art you etched for him, appreciating every single stroke you put in to make a memorable time. Warm merigold rays bloom in your chest in response to his gaze, with him looking at you like you invented the sky. Pupils are dilated, and the only reason you can see each other is because of the practically nonexistent distance between you.

His eyes pick up on your tapering resolve to keep him in line. A light quiver of need passing your lips as you hopelessly vie for dominance is what most likely gives you away.

Grabbing you by the neck, he pulls you into a deep kiss, plunging his tongue into you with reckless abandon like he was a nomad all this while and your mouth has finally claimed him home. Your neck strains at the awkward angle and surely even his is hurting, but the pressure of his hand is unrelenting.

His tongue searches and searches, desperately looking for a part in you he has not yet explored. You’d think the years of togetherness would have diminished this fiery attraction but no, he comes onto you like he has a mission to prove - to validate his love for you, to plead you to be his. You would happily accept this shower of affection, returning it with due interest.

With great difficulty you part, a string of spit still connecting your lips because he has not let you move far enough. “Uh-uh. Be good.” You pout a little, breaking character.

“You’re here. In my clothes. A walking dream. How the fuck am I to be good?” He pulls you back in to continue what you cut short but you break the line of spit and his intention with a hand wedged between your faces.

“I asked you a question, Mister.” Back on your cocky nature, you graze your lips against oh-so-lightly, barely giving him anything to feel, but the tingling on his skin shows he can feel it all.

The adoration moves into a competition, “You tell me, sweetness - how did I look?”

It’s always the praise. He loves it when you struggle to tell him his dick was crafted by the heavens when you’re choking on it, but he still makes you do it. You stutter and stumble your words when his lips smack against your cunt, devouvering and digging for the treasure of your cum, but he forces you to tell him. When you sit on his dick, your brain has no sense of diction or direction, only chasing the high at his mercy, but he makes you scream it out loud, letting everyone beyond the pearly gates know, between moans and wails, that only he can break you down this way.

“This shirt, sweetie.” Your nose trails the path between his collar and the ends of his hair, basking in the sweet vanilla scent, “You’re all covered. Why, pray tell,” You dig your teeth into the point where his shoulder meets his neck, “does this sole patch of skin turn me on so bad?”

He sucks in an inhale through his clenched teeth, his stunning visage devoid of any virtue. His head is thrown back, hat toppling over in the movement and giving you a larger canvas to mark, an opportunity you happily grasp. The mellifluous tones he is producing is recorded in your mind for lonelier nights to come.

“And the red suit? Fuck, your corseted waist?” At the corner of your eye you see his fingers clenching into a fist, your lush voice making it harder and harder for him to breathe.

You slowly stride forward, painfully slow, letting him notice every single muscle of your body curving to his unspoken command, undoing one button at a time until your torso is revealed- and shows the true purpose of your scarlet eye makeup.

A deep burgundy camisole, ribbed at the waist to accentuate the way your hips flow has Jimin salivating to no end. The strappy number, with carmine ribbons flowing into your yet to be removed bottom half- a deed Jimin intends on rectifying very, very soon- calls to him sinfully. The lingerie twists and ties in incomprehensible ways, but the amount of cleavage it gives you is ungodly.

If they weren’t already, Jimin’s eyes are now wide open.

Time comes to a standstill as he checks out your whole figure, taking in every embroidered pattern on the lingerie and every embellishment on your breasts. Before, you were already a five-star meal, but now? An emperor’s feast.

The little flower right on top of your nipple has Jimin’s attention. His thumb comes up to trace the bedecked rose, following the stitched line of stem that takes him to the peak, then drawing over petal by petal. Each time he reaches close to your hardened nub, he abstains from crossing over it, making your nipple hardens imperceptibly under the presentiment of any relief and the disappointment when nothing arrives. His other hand, sitting on your waist, coaxes you to straddle him while he plays gardner on your bust.

“Jimin…” Your nipple, finally finding solace under his thumb, is not faring too well under the attention. Your plan of teasing him is slipping through your fingers like sand.

“Tell me baby, what do you want?” His finger is now tracing the seams of your lingerie cups, admiring the way they frame your ample bosom. Things are progressing too slow for your liking, and you come clean with your ignoble intentions.

“Please, I just want to suck you off.”

A wad of spit lands directly into your cleavage, followed by two thick fingers penetrating the lubed entrance.

“Nope.” His fingers continue to shallowly fuck your cleavage. Neither of you are being touched in the erogenous zone, but why does it feel so good? Your valley is inundated with his dribble, coating your ensemble and shifting shades to a deep cerise. Every pump of his nimble fingers between your breasts is like a promise of what your pussy is going to go through. Will he fuck you hard and fast with your voice echoing across the room, making every neighbor privy of your sexual escapedes? Will he be slow and gentle, penetrate you with utmost care, soft gasps and whines only sounded to the two of you? You can never guess.

In the aphrodisiac moment, you forgot that you were supposed to take charge.

“Please, please, please! I did so much,” You take the guilt route. If Jimin was anything, he was a just and fair man. “Can’t I get that much?”

Jimin’s gaze has not left your wet cleavage. A flit of his eye makes contact with yours and goes back to the fucking - that is enough language for you to understand his needs. You bend low, and spit out a fat glob onto your chest to add to the mess he has already made. The groan that leaves him is ungodly, and he licks the spit you unloaded onto yourself, spreading it all over your expensive wear. He slurps like you released sweetened water to a parched traveller, your bosom holding all the sweetness to itself.

Gathering your thoughts is more difficult than you could ever imagine. The cloth over your nipples is completely soaked, bitten into and sticking to your skin thanks to the vacuum Jimin pulled on them. Your back has had a workout, every vertebrae bent to its maximum possibility. Chiropractors are so last year, you just have your boyfriend ravish your breasts.

“Once I’m done, you can do whatever you want.”

All of your five brain cells had to be put in action to form that sentence. The moment the words left your lips, the pressure your breasts were on had been released, but you could still feel lips against you, stretching into a snarky smirk.

“Whatever?” His grip on your waist tightens, seating you more firmly onto his taut thighs.

Whatever. That stupidly amazing word.

“Saying ‘whatever’ always lands you in trouble. Have you forgotten?” His damp lips are tracing your collarbones, nibbles whenever he felt appropriate. How does he expect you to form a damned sentence like this, the Devil on your shoulder indignantly asks. The Angel on the other has gone back in time to fetch memories filed under the term ‘whatever’, strictly saved for your quality alone-time.

The first time you told him to do ‘whatever he wants’ was fairly early into your relationship. Sex was as vanilla as the ice cream tastebud-less people liked, and none of you ever pushed it too far. A happy, drunken night with a loose-lipped confession from him.

“God, the things I want to do to you…” he had muffled into your hair, maybe not even intended for your ears to pick up.

A cheeky giggle had bubbled out of your tipsy self. “Like what, tie me up?”

If Jimin then were a color, he was a pantone pink. Blushed cheeks from the alcohol and the realization that you had caught him, airbrushed with a depth you weren’t able to put in place that early in the relationship. Wide-eyed horror was shown in its place, possibly exaggerated to add to the denial he had landed himself in.

“No no, of course, I don’t mean it like that, what ar-”

“Why not?”

The animal that awoke after confirming with you fifteen times was a force to be reckoned with. Your bra had turned into rope, wrists bound behind as he roughly squished your helpless cheeks.

“You will tell me when to stop, right?” His tongue peeked lightly, brushing your top lip, taking the perspiration away.

“Uhmf-yufh!”

“God, you’re gonna regret this baby.”

But it was exactly the opposite. You got the railing of a lifetime, heard the filthiest words that could leave the lips of such a courteous man - a side you had not expected at all. You couldn’t possibly recollect every single move he made, but what you can recollect with excruciating detail is every feeling you felt that night. It was filled with lust, with revelations of the new ways your body could bend, a night of puppetry where Jimin played you like the master your body craved. The following day was Jimin taking care of you, big puppy eyes wondering whether he took it too far. In his daze of letting go of control, he couldn’t take in your lidded stare, heaving with satisfaction - so you made sure he could witness them when he took you the next time that morning.

The other time the wretched word was mentioned was during an argument. You’re not jealous of Jimin on stage - it’s his career and you were one of the girls offering one of their kidneys to be able to catch a glimpse of him.

But your workspace? That’s where you draw the line.

She was a random worker. Some third-floor low-lying soul. You were eighth-floor premium material (the floors didn’t decide shit, but no one can tell you what skyscraper semantics you can craft in your brain). A lifeless party that even Jimin’s colorful locks couldn’t color up.

This random worker was very enamored by Jimin (as she should, the man is a whole nine-course meal). Supportive fans are not what get you jealous either.

But the limit is when placed her scrawny fingers on Jimin’s hand, drawing the glass in his grip to her lips and took a sip from it. If her lashes were fanned they could blow a man away (which is probably more than what her puny mouth could possibly do). The fume exiting your ears could have been in bright red for all you care, because every office member had been rightfully annoyed.

The whole car ride back was filled with your drunken blabbers about the different ways you could skin her. The actual victim beside you was not making a nearly big enough deal out of it, intending to let you get rid of your temper.

“She fucking knew!” Your normally clean disposition had taken its leave after the fuming temper took real estate in your brain, and you aimlessly threw your heel at some corner of the house - hungover self shall have to deal with this angry mess you’ve made. Wait, you’re an angry mess too.. “The gall she had, I should jus-”

You march towards the door, in hopes of what, you don’t know. But if you didn’t take action you’ll probably explode. Any action, just anything. You never find out though, because a strong arm slithered around your waist and halted your expedition.

“Calm down, feisty. Where are you going now?” His soothing voice, punctuated with a mocking chuckle almost quelled the fire in you. Almost.

But you’re not done being an idiot.

“To go find her for you. You’d fuck the living daylights out of her, right?”

The loudest silence you have ever encountered. Jimin’s grip on your waist tightened to the point where it could have hurt. Like he was trying to push every iota of that thought out of your body. From behind, you can hear a deep breath dragging, and somewhere in your irate head you knew you had struck a nerve, a bad one. Jimin is forced to expel any anger bubbling in him, trying to use reason with an unreasonable recipient.

“Princess, you don’t actually think I’d do that right?”

“I don’t know!” Your misplaced anger had reached the rooftops. Jimin had done nothing wrong here except try to calm an increasingly livid girlfriend. “Maybe you’d love that. Her itty-bitty waist, that whore’s outfit she had on. You call me a whore right? Maybe she’s more worthy of you!”

“Y/N.”

The timbre of his voice had completely changed. The breathy, airy aura had completely departed from your name he had just called. The lack of nicknames raised some hair at the nape of your neck, but you’re a stubborn one.

“Ugh, I don’t care.”

You tried to walk back to your room, head still reeling in a palace of inferno, burning everything that dares to intrude your path - but somehow, you had been pushed to a wall, and the eyes of the man you loved had turned feral.

If Jimin was a color, he was green - igniting with fury, anger repressed in dark shadows that never made the light of the day until pushed - but you pushed all right. And now released from its shackles, it has surrounded you and slammed you against the wall - and you have nowhere to go.

“You’re my whore. Is that a complaint from my stupid, stupid whore?”

The only joint you’re free to move is your neck, and your gratuitous self decided to rebel with whatever degree of freedom you have. Turning your face away to not meet his seething eyes, you continue your rebel-without-a-cause tantrum.

“Whatever.” you carped out.

Again, with that stupid word, you had signed your fate for the night.

Usually, you can express your feelings. Be it pain or pleasure (sometimes the two packed in one), you could wail it out to the heavens and respite would follow.

Usually, you can see the torments laid out on you. Jimin’s lithe body performing every obscene spell he invoked is a treat for your eyes. He treats your body like an artisan, using any medium to paint his art on you.

But that day, you were stripped of them both, and made to realize what a privilege they were.

Mouth stuffed with your bunched up panties, eyes blinded by his tie of the evening, you could only rely on the sensors on your skin to somehow predict what was going to be done to you. And you failed. Every single time. Every thwack fell on a new area. Every teasing touch tickled you at a new place. Nothing could begin to prepare you for his next move and you couldn’t keep up with his tameless pace.

He made you beg through the makeshift gag, beg to let you come, then beg to stop coming, beg for every orifice of yours to be filled by his seed and then beg to get cleaned by him. With the first rays of morning sunlight, language was an illusion, time was an out-of-reach concept, and all you knew was the worshipping of last night.

Whatever is a word. Whatever is mean. Whatever is filthy. Whatever is nailing you into the bed and rendering you immobile for the entire day. Whatever may just be a word to anyone, but to you it is what has you losing sense of reality, giving in to a phantasm of your wildest dreams.

A wet tap on your cheek brings you back from you imagining the past - the fingers that were fucking your cleavage are squishing your cheeks, bringing your attention back from all your dirty memories to the present - to create another memory to add to your folder.

If Jimin is a color, he is the darkest of all blacks. This is where everything pious comes to meet its sordid end. His sultry gaze is reading your eyes, searching for where you got lost, which shared memories of passed time made you melt into the puddle that you are right now.

“I said, don’t you remember? ‘Whatever’?”

Let’s see. You don’t have work tomorrow. You don’t have any commitments. You don’t have to meet anyone.

So there is no reason for you to be able to move.

“Hmmmmn, I don’t seem to recall - you could remind me.”

Dark, dark chuckles from such a cherubic face. You flounder off his lap to shuck your (his) pants away, revealing the matching maroon garter belt set. The whole outfit is an ode to Jimin’s mid performance transformation, the one that made many people’s hearts skip a quick beat. His slim, cinched waist, the flared pants flowing down his frame were one for the books, and you’d like to think your rendition has its place too.

Giving him a quick spin, you attempt to get down to business - but Jimin pulls you back on his lap. Without the pants, you can feel it - his hard, thick cock straining against the tough jean fabric and still making its presence known.

“Tell me more, baby. What did you like?”

The man was a sucker for your praise.

You were a sucker for the whole man.

But the sucking will probably have to wait.

“I loved your expressions. You’re so sexy on stage, fuck. Going around and giving bedroom eyes to the world.”

His hand gripping you ass gives it a quick pinch, but voice just let out a lazy hum to get you to continue.

“The choreography,”, your whisper is strained, “you dance like you fuck baby. So sensual, so sexy.”

You lick a stripe up his neck, from his artistic collarbones to the back of his ear, the sensitive spot that makes him hiss is arousal. You stay there, wanting to whisper the next few lines. The world didn’t need to know your thirst for this.

“You know my favorite part?”

“Oh, tell me.” His voice is hitting lower and lower in pitch, much like it’s hitting you lower and lower in your body.

You place the hand framing his face on his neck - the same one you want to cover in blooms of purple and red, lightly squeezing, letting him preen under the pressure. The tightness has Jimin’s head falling back on the headrest, and you can feel his pulse hastening to accommodate for the lacking oxygen in his stream.

Letting go of his throat, and pleased to see the lightest indentation on his beautiful pale skin, you snake your hands downward.

“Na, na, na,” Inching slowly towards your end goal, you whisper the tune into his ear, “na na na, na, na na”, covering every part with an indulgent languish, “pick your filter”.

Your hand finally reaches its destination - you grab his bulge and squeeze the hardness, making Jimin buck his hips against your palm.

“Namaneul damabwa.”

It’s a low whisper from his lips, but even in the gravelly sound you can hear how melodious he is, how the song rolls off of his tongue and was made for his vocal color. The whisper is laced with lust, with want, with desire, all the feelings you portrayed for him in his performance.

That, and in life in general.

You shuffle and sit to the side, simultaneously unbuttoning his jeans to get him some relief for the ache he had going on. Finally, you acquiesce and free his dick from its cages.

Every time you see him is a wonder to you. Hard, ridged, the right amount of veins to stimulate the walls of your cunt. Head leaking from the eons of teasing you’ve been doing, right from the text you sent to seconds ago. You bend down to clean him up, tasting the saltiness of his seed that has coated the head. Jimin’s lips are facing the brunt of your deeds - his teeth have found near permanent residence in its plushness, digging deep to keep from moaning too early, from giving you the pleasure. He is going to make you work.

Well, you must get to work.

Slowly, slowly, you dip your head in further, sucking lightly with each move, tongue tracing every vein on his dick. As you move your head back up, Jimin’s hand pushes into your back, making it arch further, and then you go down on his dick. His finger lightly follows the curve of your back, from your upper back all the way to the band of your lace panties.

Hooking a finger underneath the lace fabric of your panty that had disappeared in between your mounds of flesh, he pulls at it - hard. Your throat revolts against the intrusion as you gag, and the fabric presses into your clit. The concentrated abrasion turns into pleasure - he uses it to arch your back further, and bring your ass closer so that he can-

Smack!

The spank sends you forward and you choke on his dick further, throat giving in to his hardness.

“So good for me baby. Look at that ass.” He grabs one cheek, bubbled with the way your panties are now, squeezing and testing the firmness of your glutes.

Your plans of torturing him are shot; the Devil on your shoulder is strangely mute. Awakening the brat, you slip a hand under and toy with his balls, pulling back to provide your throat some recess. Your saliva mixed with his precum is an gushing mess, glistening on his balls and now coating your palms as you play with light squeezes - the existing stiffness caused by your teasing arousal mixed with your playful fingers make Jimin buck into your mouth, releasing a delicious groan in the process.

A second spank is a warning, either you increase your pace or reap some serious consequences. You consider the consequences; they are very compelling. You could end with delicious marks of ownership from this delicious man. But he deserves the best suck of his life, and you’re going to do just that.

Hollowing your mouth, you go further down, till his head is poking an uninvaded point in your throat, and Jimin lets out a surprising note. A groan, no, a roar, but a tinge of whine mixed in it, like the pleasure is too much for him.

You continue to swallow around, hand pumping the length you couldn’t take in, interlarded with swipes on his tight balls, leaving Jimin to be a heaving mess. Your ass is not faring better, bearing the brunt of his replies. You’re positive his fingerprints are imprinted on your asscheek, and one sit on his phone can unlock it. The line of your panties is drenched with your sopping wetness and lodged between the lips.

“God, I’m so close baby, just a little more.”

You would fervently nod in acceptance to whatever demand he places; in this position, he could ask you for the world and you would have it at his disposal. But what stops you are his ringed fingers lodged in your hair, pushing you in further, determined to spill deep in your throat, to the point where you don’t even have to swallow to get everything down.

“Fuck, such a good girl for me.” Jimin appraises how deep he is going, how your throat is accommodating him and quivering around his length. Bunching your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, he stops them from obstructing his vision - the view of you struggling to take him in, toiling to keep the need to breathe at bay while you tend to his needs, worshipping his dick like its the last meal you’ll ever get - your desperate adulation takes him over the brink.

Jimin erupts into your mouth; an ungodly amount at that. It is the hardest he’s come in a while, and given your lifestyle, that’s saying something. Even a cum-hungry whore like you can’t possibly swallow that much in one go, and you are forced to let the globs dribble down his now-softening member. The two of you are heaving, catching a breath - completely different circumstances but the same result.

The way you’re looking at him right now; his dick is already twitching to go for a second lap. Dilated pupils staring back, like you were at the receiving end of the orgasm - you are staring at him like he hung every star in the sky. Strings of cum are leaking out of the corners of your lips, ones he really wants to lap up with his tongue. Instead, you daintily dab it away - as innocent as pecking stray drops of ice cream off your mouth.

You look at him with teasing eyes. “Want a taste baby?”

Running your tongue along the mess you (or he) made, you gather the remnant cum that didn’t go into you, and instead flooded his groin. Straddling back onto his lap, you go in for a kiss but stop halfway.

Jimin is looking, waiting with lust hungry eyes. Slightly pained by the pause, he whines.

“What?”

“Open your mouth.”

From a height, you let his cum and your spit drop into his mouth, a groan of satisfaction emanating as Jimin’s tongue accepts it with great delight. He tastes his juices, they somehow feel sweeter coming from your mouth. He pushes the glob you dropped on his tongue against the roof of his mouth, letting every taste bud bathe in relish. When he’s sucked all flavor out of the globule he swallows it. On opening his eyes and landing back from heaven to earth, he sees you admiring his adam’s apple, the way it bobbed when he swallowed your offering.

Jimin’s eyes trace your current state; you look beautiful. The strappy red lingerie wet from Jimin’s treatment perfectly showcases your peaked nipples, ready for another round of torture. His shirt, through all this has managed to stay hanging on your shoulders. The curves of your sinful waist accentuated by the ribbons of the wear, like roads down a windy path, every ribbon vanishing into their destination, between your curvaceous thighs.

Slipping his fingers under the band, he decides he has not played with the lingerie enough, tugging it up once again - a sharp inhale and you’re moving along with it, upward to balance between the point of pain and pleasure. Jimin makes sure you don’t tip in favor of one. Grabbing you by the neck, Jimin harshly pulls you down into a deep kiss.

He’s done waiting, done watching you take the reins. His tongue tells you that you now can only react to his doings. Deepening the kiss, you let your mind walk places. Back to his performance, his stage presence, the aura he exudes when he is in his element. His sinful body melding to the flow of the beat, like the music was made to his movement - his piercing gaze that could leave an insentient camera with blushed cheeks - but a sharp bite pulls you right back to the present to remind you that this is also Jimin in his complete element. Pillowy lips, incandescent with every brush, sucked and nipped with fervor. But it still didn’t satisfy. It wasn’t nearly enough. Starved, you wanted to scream at every imperceptible air pocket between the two of you - as if you knew in your soul they were guilty of keeping you away.

Jimin pulls away, and his words shut you down before the whine leaves you.

“About that ‘whatever’…” his sinister eyes are a window to his brain churning something unimaginable to close the night - sinister in uppercase. Make it bold. Underline that shit. That’s him.

In the bat of an eye, you are face down on the sofa - Jimin’s rock hard thighs are straddling you, making sure you can handle his weight. In all the coarseness, he takes care of the smallest of things. An untimely smile creeps up on your face at the thought, the tender show of affection amidst the rough push and pull affecting your immersion, but you can’t say you don’t like it.

Feeling a rough jerk on your shoulder, you try to look back, just in time to receive Jimin’s ravenous gaze; he looks at you like he will eat you alive, and by the end of the night you plan on having just that. Pulling back your now-unbuttoned shirt and bunching its ends, he anchors you to the position of his choice by tying your hands behind.

Smelling a line up your neck all the way up to your hair, he briefly pauses to ask “Okay?”

Your tiny nod is enough for Jimin to carry on with whatever godless plan he has chalked out for you.

“I hope you had your fun. Because I’m not going easy on you.”

Light banter could cause no trouble. Atleast, not more than you already have. “When have you ever?”

Flashbacks of the blossoming days of your relationship flicker in Jimin’s mind, their fugacious presence a telling sign of how long it has been. Looking downward, he can only thank his alcohol-induced blabbering of that night as that is the reason he can enjoy the view he has right now.

“Maybe I should take it easy?” His tongue flits across your neck, too soft for your liking, torturous like his liking.

His fingers are playing with the straps and your now exposed upper back. It’s always been a favorite place of his. The whole expanse looks resplendent when he is done tasting you. Maroon and purple florets on your beautiful, glowing skin. And then you purposely wear dresses to show it all off, to show who your heart belongs to. He loves that about you.

You gyrate lightly, snapping him out of his daze, begging him to take you hard and fast. “Jimin, please.” a low drawl leaves you as you try to not slobber all over the cushion.

Jimin shifts lower to straddle your thighs. Snaking his hand between your legs, he finds your clit and plays with it, every press releasing a different sound from different depths of your throat. A particularly low grunt appears when he slips two fingers into your channel with smooth ease, and pushes you up from the inside.

“Ass up for me.”

His fingers stay lodged inside as you raise your hips to obey him, pulling you up further and further till he is satisfied with your position. God, your pussy looks wrecked. With every pump of his fingers you gush our more liquid, and Jimin gathers the escaping drops on this tongue.

“So perfect for me, this hole.” You can feel the cold metal of his rings drawing circles inside you as he prepares you to take his cock. His tongue, drawing completely different characters is too slow for your liking - he seems to be more satisfied in drinking your cum dripping from his fingers instead of paying attention to your throbbing clit. Seconds go by, several hinting moans of dissatisfaction go by, but the Devil on your shoulder seems to have returned and is asking for more. A hip raise, that’s all. His tongue will be right where you want.

What you got instead was a sharp bite on your already battered ass - Devil, hey, where did you go? “Behave.” He grunts against your pussy, and a fresh wave of arousal escapes you with a third finger making its way in. “Don’t like it? Too,” Smack! “Fucking.” Smack! “Bad.”

The last spank hit you hard, leaving your cunt soaked to the core. He is trying to get a rise out of you, and you are falling for it. Your smarting skin is at its breaking point, but let’s not pretend like you don’t want this either.

“Baby please, I’m so close.” You’re close to tears with how long you’ve been this turned on. Maybe Jimin will have a change of heart seeing you like this.

“Don’t.”

Well maybe not.

He’s using your hole like playdough - for his fancy, with no end goal in sight. He doesn’t seem to want you to come anytime soon and it is bothering you to no end. The tightening coil in your belly is almost painful at this point - but he doesn’t seem to want to let up anytime soon.

“You taste so sweet baby, almost don’t want to let you come, so you keep dripping like this.”

His fingers curl into you to hit that spot, and God, you’re seeing stars right now. Curling up your fists into a ball and trying to keep the threatening tsunami at bay, you jerk into his mouth and continue to sway to the tune his fingers play inside you. If desperation had a poster girl, they could take your photo right now.

“If you let me come I -ohhh- I will- I will give you more.” Your words are broken, every push into your cunt halting your flow of speech.

A split second later you are empty. He’s pulled away from you, and you think the finger-fucking torture you were going through was almost better than this. Your walls flutter in empty anguish.

“Better keep your promise then.” Finally, you hear Jimin shuffling behind, but your muscles feel too alive and too dead at the same time. At crossroads, you are unable to get yourself to move, to twist or turn and witness the glory of him, the scrunch of his features, the grit of his pronounced jaw, his lips heaving a sigh as he pushes his girthy self into your leaking hole.

Jimin’s forehead is lined with sweat, jaws hurting from the tight clench he had trying to not nut into you too soon. Now they revolt in pain, ready to pass on their trouble to his dick and release into you the moment he fits himself in. But he held off; he had plans for you - long plans.

As he slowly pulls himself out, you can’t help but mewl at the pleasure your walls are feeling, with every ridge of his cock pressing all the right spots inside you, the snug fit when he’s pulled out all the way only leaving the head inside you. Then, you can’t help but yell, expressing a mixture of anguish and pleasure when his hips snap to push into you in one swoop, hitting deep inside you. With your ass high up in the air, his balls smack your engorged bud, sending shockwaves throughout your body and clenching the hold you have on his dick.

“Fuck baby, you feel fucking tight. You’re so close?” Jimin’s voice is strained as well; the lack of mocking in his tone tells you he is close as well.

“Ki-Kiss me, please.” The voice that leaves you is so foreign, so unknown. The fucked out woman speaking in your stance has no spatial or temporal comprehension. You don’t even realize how you are put on your back, now a lucky witness to Jimin’s nimble figure pushing back into you as he leaned over to slot his lips on yours.

The kiss was explicit, it was rough, it would put to any kiss you’ve shared before to shame. Deep in throes of pleasure, his mouth is chasing yours. Your hands are still bound; a light fight against the restrain tells you you don’t have a chance. Instead, you suck his plush lip in, swiping your tongue across his cherry petals that are rushing with blood because of you. Dormant volcanoes across the world could erupt with the blaze of your merging lips, it is scorching hot.

If Jimin is a color, he is a rich wine - deep and passionate. He puts his one hundred percent into whatever he does, be it skilled singing, adept dancing or simply fervent kissing. He gives it his all.

Jimin’s skillful hips move in every way he wishes - and your pussy is thankful for that. Rolling in deep, he tests the stretch of your walls, before pistoning into you with zeroed-in precision, sole focus to get you to come with him. The effort he was putting in could be seen in his abs - they have tightened with exertion, and with a light sheen on sweat, look absolutely delectable.

Letting your hands roam, you bring Jimin’s face into your neck where you can hear every single breath, every hiss, every groan - that you could record and keep in your memory. With one hand tugging his tresses, and the other hand drawing paths on his back with your nails, you hear the sounds you want to. Jimin sharply bites your ear, and the shockwaves of pleasure send you tipping.

There’s layers to the pleasure you are experiencing right now, your orgasm hitting you in ebbs and flows. Right when you think you can finally return back to ground, the high tide pulls you back into the water for another stream of pleasure. It feels like eternity when you finally hit the land, and even then the loose sand makes you falter, threatens to send you back into the ocean.

Jimin’s pace is faltering, and he spills soon after. Hot, heavy breaths tickle under your ear, as both of you feel the sheer intensity of the orgasm. Him on you, your hearts are aligned, and you can feel the beats fighting each other for dominance until they soften down.

Ripples of energy flow out of the both of you, elevating the temperature around the two of you. If you didn’t have your eyes closed you’d say literal rolls of steam are emanating from the way you both are heaving. You slowly regain your senses, twitching hands trying to remember what it is that hands even do.

A shiver runs through your spine when you hear a grunt so close to your ear, only to realize Jimin is in the same position as you are in. Even without looking, you can guess what his expression is. Void of any edge, the softness of his facial features must have made their return, with crinkled eyes and a light frown on his beautiful pouty lips, he probably looks like an innocent caricature of the man that stood behind you moments ago. Letting your palm rest on his head, you beckon him to get up.

If Jimin is a color, he is the pinkness best portrayed by his puffy cheeks at this moment. A childlike glow, a guileless visage. He looks at you with such adoration, like you are the only desire in his world, and everything else can be damned.

You don’t want to break this silence but you cheekily add, “You didn’t even get me naked. Like this a bit too much eh?”

Dark clouds mar the pink and turn it into a deep, sultry carmine - the shift in his color noticeably brings your temperature down by a few degrees.

“Cute. You think I’m done with you.”

He is the whole palette, and you can pick your filter.

Thank you for making it to the end! Let me know what you think! And you can find more of my writing at my masterlist here!

#bangtansorciere #bangtanhq #bangtancentralstation #ficswithluv #bangtaninn #bts smut #jimin smut #park jimin smut #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bangtanuniversity

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blps · 4 years

Text

Are you having fun?

Pairing: Sakusa x reader

Genre: fluff! (And maybe also stranger to why am I stuck with you to oh nevermind I guess you are nice to hang out with to oh shit I think I caught feelings) anybody got a name for that trope??

Word count: ~2.6k

Summary: Your friend’s crush has four tickets to an amusment park, and so while your friend and her crush pratically abandons you with the none other than Sakusa Kiyomi

a/n: Wow thos is my longest fic, I think Sakusa is a bit ooc in this because of how fast he warms up to you but THIS IS FICTION SO WHO CARES haha ok anyways enjoy!

///////////////////////////////////////

You couldn’t believe you agreed to this. Currently in a car, hearing your friend besides you thanking you for tagging along and rambling about her perfect crush, you looked outside the window, thinking about how comfortable your bed was and how you wished you could have stayed in it.

But of course you had to agree to your friend’s offer. The pleading in their eyes made you feel guilty if you said no. She really liked him and you were pretty sure he did too. The both of them were just too shy to initiate the first move. So what could go wrong? Well the fact that you were going to arrive at 8am on a saturday morning was the problem.

And so with your little sleep hours you had, you encourage yourself to do this and make sure that your friend and her crush end up confessing by the end of the day.

One of your worries was the fourth person. Your friend informed you that you wouldn’t be third wheeling, another person would accompany you, wasn’t that wonderful? No. Doing first interactions with a new human being was nonexistent on your list of favourite things to do. Will you and them click off and could enjoy a day together? Or will it be awkward the whole time? What if you both will not get along? So many questions you weren’t so eager to find the answer.

Your friend parked the car, giving you a blinding smile as she got out of the car. You wanted to at least not ruin her first date so you switched your moody morning self to the ‘I totally want to socialise with you’ persona.

As you got out of the car, the sun warmed your skin from the fresh breeze of mornings. You walked behind your friend as you met with what would be the crush and your companion for the rest of the day.

Your partner for the day turned around, and you were just in awe of his beauty. He was tall, more than 6’. His dark hair curled nicely, perfectly framing his face. Well, the partial part you could see anyway as he was wearing a mask. But if that mask didn’t further accentuate his beauty then you didn’t know what else will. As you got closer, two beauty marks were more noticable and that was the last straw. He just took the prize for the most beautiful man effortlessly; it almost made you angry.

He introduced himself with the most soothing voice. You gathered yourself, not wanting to make him uncomfortable as you greeted him properly and his friend. The four of you then entered the amusement park, ready for a day of ups and downs.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You knew it would end up like this. As soon as your friend and her crush had a map of the place, they immediately left you and Sakusa alone.

It was silent between the two of you. Guess he wasn’t that much of a talker. You took a map for yourself. You were about to ask what he would like to do when his words cut the silence first.

“I’m not riding any roller coasters.”

Well, that was a really good start.

“May I ask why? Who would come to an amusement park and not try at least one rollercoaster?”, you replied.

“I hate germs and if you were aware, the seats are filled with strangers filth”, his eyes clearly judging you,” I’m sure you wouldn’t understand.”

Oh yeah his looks wouldn’t be able to save him now.

“Excuse me? Are you calling me unsanitary?”

“Considering how you touched the rotating metal bars with your bare hands at the entrance, I would agree. Do you even realise how many germs you just touched?”

His look of distaste was the only confirmation that he was in fact, a germaphobe. Great. Who would’ve guessed a germaphobe would be in an amusement park. You really hit the target for the least desirable person to spend a whole day with in your situation.

You sigh as you took your hand sanitiser from your bag and rubbed your hands vigorously, giving him the most infuriating glare you could do.

“Here”, you showed your hands to him,” there now should be 0.01% bacteria, if you don’t want to ride a rollercoaster, fine. At least let’s walk around and look for our friends since you wouldn’t gain more bacteria.”

You turned around, ready to do anything but be alone with the judging look all day. You should at least have a good time when you were forced out of your comfy bed to be here.

With your back turned to him and his face mask on, you wouldn’t have known of that tiny smirk on Sakusa’s lips.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Your plan didn’t go as well as you expected. You and Mr. Nofun were sitting as far away as you could from a bench. You were even surprised that he sat on it. Your friend ran along with your crush to who knows where and so you weren’t able to find her.

Silence once again ruled in the atmosphere. Only the faint sound of rollercoasters and people screaming were reaching your ears. You have texted your friend to meet up, you couldn’t handle being alone with him anytime longer. Maybe you should leave him. Why should you stay? You were fully capable of having a good time by yourself.

“I didn’t expect you to have a hand sanitizer with you.”

This was not the time.

“Why did you even come if you weren’t going to do anything? There really weren’t any more suitable candidates?”

You were both staring each other down, arguments ready to be unleashed when a new sound reached both of your ears.

The great rumbling of hungry stomachs.

Yours to be more precise.

Burying yourself deep in the ground was a very enticing idea right now, until Sakusa’s stomach joined in on the symphony of hunger.

With few words of agreement, you both went to find something to eat.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You were both eating, in silence once again. Sakusa finished his bite, and stared at you until your own eyes met his.

“No there weren’t any suitable candidates. No one wanted to spend a day with two lovers at an amusement park. And since I thought I would be alone, I planned to do nothing. I didn’t know you would be here.”

Your temper from earlier calmed down, you finished your bite as you answered back:

“Well fair enough but I still would like to enjoy myself you know? You're not the only one that is forced to be here. I didn’t even get to finnish my dream and next thing I know, I’m out of bed and onto one of the most social places you could be.”

Since his mask was off his face so he could eat, which was both a blessing and a curse, you were able to notice the small smirk forming.

“Well how about you do what you would like? Don’t bother about the others, enjoy your day.”

Well, maybe he wouldn’t be a pain after all.

“You have something stuck between your teeth.”

You spoke too soon.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Aside from his comments, it was actually going pretty well. You had participated in some mini activities and won some prizes. You had gained stuffed animals, a balloon, and more unnecessary gadgets. You wanted to at least try the haunted house but Sakusa refused to go in it.

You were currently in a ferris wheel for a little break, devouring a pink cotton candy while your now tolerable partner was doing his best in trying not to touch the metal security bar.

You let out a chuckle, the both of you arriving at the top.

“I’ll let you use my hand sanitizer. Just hold it if you want to feel secure”, your soft chuckle making his eyebrows furrow.

“It doesn’t work that way”

“Here take this”, you handed him your cotton candy as you searched your bag for your gloves,” here I had these gloves since we would stay to watch the fireworks and it would be pretty chilly at night.”

His eyes reflected surprise as you took your cotton candy back and handed him the gloves. You continued admiring the view and eating the sugar, oblivious to the man besides you who wanted to calm his heartbeat and the pink blossoming coloring his cheeks.

When you were back on the ground and walking around. You spotted one of your favourite activities yet so far. The prize was a living fish and you were just so excited to win one you grabbed Sakusa’s sleeve and dragged him eagerly to the stand.

Time flew by as well as your money. Your wallet couldn’t withstand another round. You just couldn’t beat the game and win the fish. Adding on to that, you felt Sakusa’s annoyance from your back facing him. He was probably tired of holding your stuff.

You accepted your defeat, ready to go, until you felt his presence besides you. His arm extended, cash on his hand.

“Another round please.” The host prepared the booth once again, happy with his earnings. Meanwhile, you prepared to not disappoint Sakusa, mentally forcing yourself to not screw this up. You looked over him, about to thank him. However, he only gave you your stuff back.

“You are so bad at this, let me just show you how it’s done”, his gentle eyes were locked with your surprised ones. It was different from the usual judgemental and disgusted look he had.

Before you knew it, he was facing you again, but this time, he held a plastic bag with a bright small orange fish swimming around.

“Shall we continue, the others are probably searching for us as well.” He kept on walking, not bothering to check if you were following him. Snapping out of your shocked state, you quickly catched up to him, thinking how to thank him.

“Um.. thanks, for winning the fish for me, I-“

“Oh I think you misunderstood,” he smirked, giving you a teasing look, “I won this fish. So I will be keeping it.”

Irritation washed over you. But before you could respond, your name was called out in the crowd. You saw your friend jogging towards you, hand in hand with her crush. At least this day was going well for one of you.

“I’m so glad we found you! We went to the randez-vous point you sent by text but you weren’t there-” She hugged you tight before whispering in your ear, “I’m sorry I didn’t see the text sooner,” before pulling away.

“We were going to our last roller coaster, if you guys want to join us. It’s getting dark anyways, better not be separated again.”

You glanced over at Sakusa, wondering if he was ok doing at least one. He reluctantly agreed, but made an effort nonetheless.

You were walking with your friend, a little behind the others so your conversation wouldn’t be heard.

“I hope you are at least enjoying yourself”, your friend looked at you with concerned eyes, waiting and searching for signs that you would like to leave, “I had a really good time so I wouldn’t mind if you would like to leave, I can drive you home.” You knew that if you felt uncomfortable in any way, she wouldn’t hesitate to take you home safely. However, you didn’t need to go home yet, you could continue a bit.

You considered it. You really did. What was keeping you from leaving? Even if Sakusa was a pain, you somewhat enjoyed his company. No. That couldn’t be it. It must be something else. You convinced yourself that it must be the fireworks.

Ignoring your feelings, you reassured your friend that you were fine. You would enjoy the rest of the day for yourself, not letting anything, or anyone for that matter, to ruin it.

The four of you finally arrived at your final destination. Turns out that no feelings will be ignored. The roller coaster was a lover's tunnel. Guess who’s your partner.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was awkward. You and Sakusa were side by side on the swan shaped boat, not a word travelled between the two of you.

You were alone in the tunnel, the smooth warm lighting meant for couples not helping. If the situation couldn’t get more embarrassing, romantic music started to play and the both of you went stiff.

That was it. Better bicker about something else than being silent. Your heart beated frantically against your chest, a miracle it hasn’t bolted out and left you. You turned your face to face Sakusa, noticing the faint pink on his ears.

“So will you keep the fish?” You shouldn’t have talked, maybe it made matters worse. In this situation, perhaps it was better to keep silent and never speak of it again. But even if that was the case, you shouldn’t make a big deal out of it right?

You were certain you held no feelings for Sakusa. He was mean, teasing, insufferable, never having fun, a germ freak and handsome. Wait no, none of that attractiveness, when someone has an undesirable personality, they appear uglier. But was he really that unattractive or were you trying to convince yourself that even the idea of liking him was impossible.

“I won it. Of course I’ll keep it”, he mumbled behind his mask. The atmosphere was falling once again in silence, besides the music playing.

You dug into your mind to find a new conversation. Or not. Maybe it was his way of wanting zero conversation. You hated this. Your mind was in total chaos and your heart was not stopping anytime soon, it only seemed to increase.

“I haven’t yet chosen a name though. If you want to help that is,” he was still averting his eyes, not completely facing your direction.

The rest of the ride continued with various propositions of names for the fish. And every single one of them ended either with a flat out ‘no’ or a mocking comment.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The sun was already setting, the night sky was ruling above as you sat besides Sakusa and your friend. You were waiting for the fireworks to begin, the final activity of the day. Finally this day seemed to stretch out forever. You were almost at your limit, the hours of sleep you skipped catching up on you.

Even at that, you couldn’t ignore that little sting in your heart at the realisation that this was probably the last day you would spend with Sakusa. He wasn’t the perfect choice, but he stayed by your side and let you have fun. The teasing was a bit annoying, but you enjoyed the insignificant bicker. Maybe if you had more time would you warm up to him. You wanted to continue spending time with him.

Your doubts were invading your mind. Perhaps Sakusa didn’t want to see you again. After all he was mean to you from the start. Did he enjoy your company? He did follow your lead all day. If he didn’t like you, wouldn’t he just go his seperate way?

“Did you have fun?” His question surprised you. You were captivated by his eyes. They didn’t hold the usual teasing look he gave you. You couldn’t quite decipher it, but they held something different this time. But you agreed. You did have fun today.

You knew he was smiling behind his mask. He looked like he wanted to say something,but your moment was interrupted by the loud noises in the sky.

In all but a few moments, Sakusa felt a weight drop on his shoulder. He stiffened, glancing down at your sleeping form. He was surprised you could sleep with all that noise. Your features were peaceful with the colored light illuminating your face.

He let you sleep, not wanting to disrupt your slumber. He had to admit to himself, he did have fun today too.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You woke up in your bed, your mind still urging you to continue to sleep. However you were distracted by the text you received from an unknown number. An image attached to it of an aquarium and a familiar looking fish in it.

Unknown number

We still haven’t found a name

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

a/n: Thank you so much for reading until the end!

#haikyuu x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #haikyuu fluff

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the-river-person · 3 years

Text

Mistral Sans is now Community Shared

To echo the words of @undertaleauoc, Mistral is "open for use" without the need to request permission from the creator (me) though I’d like to be tagged and credited still. Mistral Formerly named: Sans Age: 10 to the power of 100 years (technically a little more than that by now, but the number is so huge that it's no longer relevant.) Gender: Male Appearance: Appears much like Classic Sans, except for the silvery-white crystalline formations growing all over his body. These can get quite large if he hasn’t removed them in a while, and are often quite sharp to anyone with flesh instead of bone. He makes an effort to keep the Kenón from growing up over his head and face, or from completely encasing his body, but it's difficult to keep up with since it grows faster whenever he happens to be in the Void itself. He wears a long brown overcoat, gloves, and long black trousers, mostly in effort to hide the Kenón as much as possible or keep the sharp points from cutting people by accident. He also keeps a red bandana around his neck, something given to him by Papyrus. His eyes never went back to their original state after the Void-Sickness. Instead of dark hollows with a white iris, they seem to be a pale grey, like a well of deep nothingness. Backstory: Mistral’s Universe is based upon the question “What would happen if the Human just never stopped the Resets, but went on forever?” And the resulting Tale that followed was one of mindless repetitions for time out of mind as the Human would Reset in order to prevent the Underground from being destroyed. Eventually the human, who was no longer human, stopped when Sans suggested a different means to preserve their Universe without killing. This Underground has a deep history of worship and lore that surrounds their Angel, and Sans played the role of Judge, a historical job where someone representing the Angel’s Justice would be called upon to make an absolute Judgement upon anyone or anything. The King called upon him to bring his judgement upon the entire Underground for their part in everything. Formerly a scientist under his Uncle Gaster, he helped come up with the “Solution” which the entire Underground was inoculated with to help them remember beyond Resets. He himself was a victim of the Void poisoning like that which affected Gaster’s Followers and was only saved from being wiped to a blank slate by Gaster’s efforts. A fragment of Kenón (Void-stone) and determination was placed in his soul, causing the crystals to spread from it. In later years as the Underground thrived despite the Resets, he pushed himself to get another degree, this time in psychology, and eventually became a practicing therapist/psychologist (as well as the Underground’s willing delivery boy. He liked being able to see and talk to people all the time, and get to know things.) Upon the destruction of his Universe he was thrown into the Void with his Uncle Gaster, where they were rescued by the mysterious River Person. They met with Ink!Sans who explained the Multiverse and gave them the means to travel it. Now they travel from Universe to Universe, or sometimes wander the Void itself, or the Anti-Void. Gaster (now named Majuscule) is searching for his children, and Sans (now named Mistral) is helping while searching for the Ship his brother escaped with and whatever survivors of his people there might still be. Personality: Mistral is old. Though he was in a mindless forgetful repetitive state for much of the Resets, and has few memories of his own childhood beyond what Papyrus reminded him of, he is significantly mentally older than most of the other Monsters from his Universe. The determination in his soul (along with the Kenón) makes him very strong willed and much more powerful than he was before. It also gives him a minor energy boost. His years as a scientist specializing in studies of the Soul and Physics, as well as his later degree in psychology and practice as a therapist, make him a fairly discerning person who is easily approachable and can talk about a number of different subjects with ease. Despite his actions during the Genocide Routes, he is a much more mentally stable person (possibly one of the most stable Sanses out there from what I see) and is very much a pacifist, refusing violence altogether and choosing to let his words and mind guide him out of trouble, or his teleportation to let him escape danger. Because of his refusal to consider physical violence, even in his own defense, his skill in using fighting magic has atrophied. He can no longer summon the blasters at all, and his bone attacks are weaker. His teleportation on the other hand is much stronger and he can do it more often without tiring too much. The other effects of his refusal to fight means that he must proactively avoid confrontation whenever possible. Mistral uses his knowledge of how people think and act to guide his interactions with others, putting even Monsters from the Fell Universes at ease with well timed and thought out humorous comments, as well as just generally being willing to listen and try to see from the point of view of other people. He can tell puns, but they usually sound a bit forced, like he memorized them somewhere and was just waiting for a point to use them. Very rarely he’ll come up with the perfect one on the spot and be absolutely thrilled with himself. More often he uses dry humor, throwaway lines, or Hyperbole.

His willingness to try and defuse the tension caused by aggressive Monsters he’s dealing with can sometimes backfire on him and serves to make the Monster even angrier and more violent. Mistral will then flee, not wanting to fight them, but often marking himself as guilty or suspicious in the process when this happens with an authority figure who has confronted him for his presence.

The Kenón crystal growing all over his body tends to freak people out as well, which is why he hides it as much as he can beneath the overcoat, gloves, and bandana.

Like all skeletons of his Universe, Mistral has a great knowledge of fonts and writing systems, punctuation marks, ciphers, and typography. It is a very important subject to them as it very closely ties with how they see themselves, their identity as a person. This may be rather strange to skeletons from other Universes who do not share this background. A similar problem comes when skeletons from other Universes find out how strongly he and the Monsters of his world believe in the mythical Angel of Mount Ebbot and often pray to them or swear by them (or use “Angel” as a swear).

He’s also very interested in the concept of Identity and how it can change over time or be altered by events in your life, and how names connect to the concept of identity.

Can I use Mistral in my comic/story/animation/etc?: Sure. He’s a wandering type character, so it's likely he’ll show up in countless Universes and places all over while searching for his brother and his missing cousins. Sometimes he’ll be with Gaster and sometimes not.

One thing to note is that his story will have a continuation, so if in your story you detail events that involve him beyond just a brief meeting, chat, or background character… Just be aware that it's probably not going to be canon to the story I’m planning for him (though if we take other Multiverses into account it could be canon elsewhere).

I would like to insist that you tag and credit me on his use (Credit is good. Tagging me makes it so I can come see your wonderful creations).

Can I ship Mistral with this other character/characters?: Yeah, why not?. Canonically he’s aesexual and only very passingly interested in the idea of romantic relationships. But sure, ship him with whoever you like. Just know that it's not canon to this Multiverse.

While I would still like to be tagged in stuff that involves him. I know I can’t stop nsfw art/writing and other things of that nature from happening, much as I might like to. But be warned, If I see it or am tagged with that, or am sent asks of that... I will block you. Fontcest, Incest ships, child ships, or smut in general will all get you blocked instantly.

Canon height and weight: 4-5 feet high (same as Classic Sans). Weight was trickier. He’s a skeleton. A human skeleton is only about 15% of your body weight. So classic is probably somewhere around 16 or so pounds. But Mistral is covered by continually growing crystalline structures of Kenón. Since the crystal is heavy but spread out and somewhat kept under control, it probably only doubles his weight, making him 32 pounds.

Canon strength: Mistral isn’t a fighter. His attacks are weak because his desire to actually fight is nonexistent, even if he has to defend himself or others. But his actual physical strength, as opposed to his magical attacks, sees a significant increase to that of your normal Sans. The Kenón crystals actually increase his defense by making his bones stronger and more crack resistant, and his self healing is well equipped to deal with most breaks, though they’re still quite painful.

He also has increased endurance for longer physical or magical activities so long as combat or confrontation isn’t part of it.

Since he weighs more, he can’t jump as high as a Sans who weighs less (not that it's a huge difference. He’s only 32 pounds. Plus his strength can mostly make up for it by pushing himself off harder when jumping.)

Is it okay if I draw him with another gender, age, height, or sexuality?: Go for it. Have fun. Tag and credit me. But remember that it’s not canon to THIS Multiverse that I’m working in.

Canon Birthday?: September 16th (though he hasn’t celebrated in a LONG time. He probably doesn’t remember his last actual birthday party. Papyrus might though…)

Font?: Used to be Comic Sans. But now it's Mistral (upper and lowercase).

Original AU: Aeontale by

a_river_is_a_liminal_space

(or the-river-person. basically… me)

Can I send Asks for more details if I need or want them?: Yes. My askbox is open. I’ll answer what I can. I’ve put everything I can think of on here, but inevitably there’s always something missed in things like this. So ask away.

#mistral sans #community shared oc #undertale au #aeontale #character bio

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savedbybangtan · 4 years

Text

Let Me Love You

Summary: She lucked out one too many times. Luckily, Jimin was there to ‘save’ her.

2,916 words

Warning tags: smut, dubcon, stalking, possessive, unprotected sex (wrap it up yall), slight yandere?

Let Me Love You

Food.

Water.

Death.

Three things immediately popped out in your mind that you begged for, that you needed.

These days, the pain in your body didn’t even allow you the few seconds to fantasize that you were in your parent’s home on a weekend morning where you did not have any work today. The pain was too great for you to ignore so that, as soon as you woke up, you were reminded of your grim premise.

You open your eyes, too tired and weak to be disgusted by the scent of yourself, vomit, and reliefs that were soaked into the naked mattress in the floor. There were two small windows on one wall, short and almost reaching the ceiling indicating that you were in a basement, but sunlight never shined through them. They were being blocked from the outside.

Footsteps could be heard on through the thin ceiling. It sounded as if he were entertaining guests with given the thumps of the music and feet.

If you called out right now, you may be able to alert one of the guests to help you out this situation.

You knew it wouldn’t make any sense. He would find you. Besides, your throat was too weak to make any sound above a hoarse whisper and the music was too loud.

Someone opens the door (the only entrance to the basement) that sat on top of a long staircase. Dim lights filtered in and you squinted at it, sensitive to the light.

The door is closed but you made out the silhouette before you were engulfed in darkness again.

“Hi, sweetheart. I’m entertaining upstairs – so I can’t stay for long – but I really missed you and wanted to see you,” you heard the angelic voice apologise to you.

“…min…Ji-min…” you managed to hoarse out.

“What is it, baby?”

“Thirsty.”

“Already? I just gave you water and food two days ago,” he chuckled. I couldn’t see him, but I could tell he had that wicked glimmer in his eye that did not go with those rose powdered cheeks he sported by now.

He walked to a corner of the room, far from where your chain would allowed you to reach, if you were even able to walk. The light from the fridge illuminated his outfit. He wore a black turtleneck, black jeans and of course, black boots. When you had first met him at that bar, he wore the same colour palette. If you only knew.

He came back with a bottle of water that he poured slowly into your mouth as you drank in large gulps.

“What do you want to eat,” he asked sweetly – the same tone he used when he asked what you were drinking that night.

You hesitate to answer.

“I can promise you I will probably have anything you ask of me. I know all of your favourite foods and bought them.”

🌃

The blue and lime green lights darted manically about the bar. It was loud and filled with cigar, weed, cigarette, and hookah smoke. The scent, four gin and juices, and bottle of wine (that was finished before you even entered the club) had you feeling free. You didn’t want to think of your dumb boyfriend who broke up with you because of a few male friends you kept.

You didn’t want to think about your so called “friends” who had taken his side.

You definitely didn’t want to think about how you were fired, yet again, for rejecting the advances of yet another coworker. They tell you to report the matter to HR, but you believed in an eye for an eye. Someone who smacks someone’s ass should get smacked across their face – not relocated to another desk.

You danced crudely to the music, obviously drunk.

It wasn’t safe for a girl, wearing such a revealing and tight lavender dress to go out by herself. Especially not in this crowd.

Still, you needed to get lost in a crowd of people and let loose. You were sick of your parents breathing down your neck about moving out now that you finished college and secured another job. There was no way you were telling them how you were fired again. You needed to get out of the house.

The upbeat tune of Raising Hell by Ke$ha was exchanged for the smooth beat of BMO by Ari Lennox. You were too drunk for this song. You started to slowly grind your hips into the air, trying to mimic the moves of an exotic dancer.

A pair of soft hands grabbed you by the waist and danced against you, obviously having trouble trying to keep your nonexistent rhythm.

It was hot.

His hands were all over you. You glanced back and saw juicy lips that you suddenly wanted to kiss, but you were already short of breath. As if the final ounces of alcohol had finally ran through your bloodstream, the room swayed and it got dark.

“Shit,” you heard someone say. You couldn’t tell if it came from you or him.

You felt yourself being dragged away, too weak and too inebriated to care.

Before you could even reach an exit, you passed out.

You woke up and could tell you were in a moving vehicle. You saw the same stranger driving, but that “new car” scent put you back to sleep.

You woke up to the sound of keys jingling about, you noticed that this was not your house and that the man carrying you was that same stranger from the club. “Hey! Where are you taking me!” You slurred, fighting the urge to pass out once more.

You shouldn’t have estimated the power of that wine you drank in one sitting.

He flashes you a perfect smile that oozed excitement. “I’m taking you home, y/n.”

“This isn’t my…home.” You let the darkness engulf you as it was getting too hard to fight.

You were too drunk to question how he knew your name.

Minutes, hours, or days passed before you woke up in a crisp, white bedroom.

You spat some of your hair out of your mouth.

With a stretch, you take in your surroundings.

What happened last night? The last thing you truly remembered was chatting up the handsome bartender.

You scratched your head and that’s when you realise you were in nothing but a large tank top, obviously male.

Fuck!

Not again, you thought. You can’t believe you were in this situation again.

You spotted a bathroom through the open door and ran into it. There were no love marks on your skin. Your make up was removed pretty well and the clothes you wore last night were folded neatly on top of the counter, including your panties which you found a little embarrassing, imagining someone folding them.

You slowly brought your hand to your entrance, feeling for any kind of tenderness or fluids that would indicate anything out of the ordinary.

If something did happen, at least they weren’t rough.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t do anything to you. I didn’t want our first time to be like that.”

You removed your hand and spun to look at the owner of the voice.

Who the hell was this? You eyed him wearily.

Ignoring your glare, he spoke again, “I washed your clothes for you! They might be uncomfortable, so you can wear my shirt instead if you like.”

“Um, do you mind telling me who you are?” I couldn’t sense any danger from the angelically handsome silver haired man who spoke to you so innocently.

“Oh, I’m Jimin. Park Jimin. I’m 25 and I work as a police officer.”

“I meant, why am I here?”

“You fell out in the middle of the dance floor last night.”

“Why?”

He laughed again, turning his eyes into little upwards crescents. “I think that’s enough questions before we eat. I cooked breakfast. Its downstairs. Come down once you’re done in here.”

With that, he left.

Oh, he’s a police. That explained why he would bring me home. He felt the need to serve and protect. You were lucky this time, but this will have to be the last time you go out drinking alone. You quickly chucked off his tank top and got dressed in the same clothes as last night. You were indifferent to the walk of shame by now. Walking outside in club attire in broad daylight was bound to catch a few stares, but you didn’t care what people think.

You searched for your shoes and realized he probably had them downstairs.

By the time you gotten down and found the kitchen, he was just about to sit down.

“Look, I really want to thank you for saving me. Something really bad could have happened last night. I tend to have this self-destructive streak about me that I can’t quite shake off, but I promised myself this would be the last time I pass out from drinking.”

He smiled at your words. “That’s great. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you are never that careless again. Please, have breakfast.”

“Oh no, you’re too kind. I’ve already bothered you enough.”

“Come on, now, Y/n. I’ve already cooked it. I don’t want to waste it.”

You shrug and sat. “Fine, if you insist.” You start to dig in immediately. It was amazing and settled your stomach. You could already feel the hangover nausea kicking in.

You horsebacked the rest of the hot tea and stood abruptly. “Thank you so much! That was really delicious. I hope one day I can repay your kindness.”

All of the joy in his eyes dissipated as you moved to leave, but you didn’t notice.

“Can you tell me where my shoes are?”

“How about you stay for a while longer?”

“I couldn’t possibly.”

“Are your parents waiting back for you?”

“No, I tend to not even come home most weekends and- wait,” you stopped, eyeing him suspiciously thinking it was weird that he assumed you lived with your parents although you were obviously an adult. “I’m a grown woman, you know. I may act like a teen, getting drunk like that, but I’m 21. I can do what I want.”

“And you were fired recently, meaning you don’t have anything better to do, right? Please, stay with me.”

Revelation.

Before you thought to wit your way out of danger, you stammer.

“How did you know I was fired from my job?” You started to slowly back away.

If you were not in the current predicament, you might have noticed how beautiful and genuine his smile was. “Oops, looks like I blew my cover! I guess I can drop the façade. I love you, y/n. I had for a while now, but I couldn’t talk to you because I know someone boring like me wouldn’t stand a chance.” His eyes furrowed in mock sorrow, but those plump, tempting lips pulled into smile. “If you’re good, I’ll let you stay in the house…I really do not intend to hurt you.”

He reached and arm out for you slowly, but you evaded his touch as if he was fire. “Let me out of here! You stalker!” You dashed to what you assumed to be the front door with the crooked cop trailing behind you slowly.

“I don’t want to hurt you, y/n!”

You looked back for a moment as you grab frenetically for the door handle. He waltzed toward you with his hands in his pockets. He had on his uniform, the only thing missing was the hat and shirt.

Clammy hands finally got the door open and you charged through it without taking your eyes off the monster behind you. Even when you fell down the stairs, you did not turn your neck to see that the door you took so long to open was your personal gateway to hell.

Instead of seeing the bright lights of morning, you are greeted with darkness. When your eyes adjusted, you realised that it’s a basement.

“FUCK!!!” You screamed in agony clutching your broken leg.

Park Jimin tutted and cooed toward you. “See what you did to yourself? I told you that I don’t want to hurt you. Let me see…” He reached out for your leg but you pull away from him quickly, the action eliciting a groan from you. “Hey, I’m trying to help.”

“Then take me to a fucking hospital!”

“You probably don’t even need one. The fall wasn’t that high. It was about seven steps. I took a course in first aid.” His voice was something lethal. How was he so calm with you shouting at him? You gave him your leg.

Gently, in his crouched position, he rotated your leg, massaging it to assess where it had broken. “Shh, shhh, shhh, its okay,” he cooed at you mindlessly. With a deep gulp and wide eyes, he warned, “Suck in your breath…” You did as he said, in too much pain to argue. “It’ll take a sec…” He snapped your leg again with a grueling sound similar to a branch breaking from a tree during a hurricane.

You screamed.

And screamed,

And blacked out from pain.

#jimin imagine #jimin fic #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #yandere jimin #jimin x reader #jimin smut #ml

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devilatmydoor · 4 years

Text

love is fatal I part 8

previous parts; part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

a/n- hi all! i hope your week has been going great. i hope you are all taking care of yourselves <3 as always let me know what you think in the tags or message me! if you want to be added to my taglist send me a ask or dm! shout out to @aliencal for helping me bounce ideas

word count; 5.7k+ whoops

warning; smut, ANGST, swearing, fluff, drinking

The tension in the room could cut a knife, her mom showing up out of nowhere wasn’t unusual for her. There was no doubt in her mind that her mother stole her ex-husband’s key to Veronica’s house. Her father had a set of keys in case of an emergency. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down “He’s my boyfriend. Is there a reason you’re here besides bothering me?” Veronica as she set her basket on the floor.

“I haven’t seen you since I dropped off Hershey, you didn’t mention him to me then.” She insinuated.

Calum looked at Veronica as her eyes almost rolled to the back to the back of her head in response, “We weren’t dating then mom, you could’ve called to warn me you were stopping by.”

“What fun would that be?”

“I’m gonna go change, I’ll be right back.” He said before kissing Veronica on her cheek before leaving the kitchen.

“This house is a mess, you really need to get better at keeping your house organized.” Her mom criticized.

“Really mom? You came all the way here to tell me this?” Veronica sighed.

“Really? You’re dating him after Jaiden?”” Her mom questioned as she tried to whisper the last part.

“Yes I’m dating him, quit putting him on a pedestal.” She angrily said as her body temperature instantly switched.

“You never should’ve broken up with Jaiden, you’re downgrading Veronica.” Her mom said. Did her mom really think so poorly of him after just meeting him?

“Okay, you need to leave. No one talks about Calum like that after just meeting him. You talked to him for all of 2 seconds.” Veronica demanded as she could feel her chest tighten.

“That’s all I need.” Her mom scolded as she crossed her arms.

“Get out of my house, now. Jaiden broke me, I had to pick myself out of the darkest place. Jaiden isn’t even half of the man Calum is.” She argued as she clenched her jaw.

“That’s not true.”

“I dated him so I know what kind of man he isn’t. Just leave before I call Dad.” She barked as her mom walked out of the kitchen towards the front door. Her mom slammed the door as she left her house adding icing to the cake.

She turned around to see Calum standing in the living room, “Ronnie are you okay? You really shouldn’t argue with your mom about me.”

She made the space between them nonexistent, “I’m fine, no one talks about you like that. Especially if they compare you to my ex.” She sighed before looking in his brown eyes, “I’m sorry you had to be here to witness all of that, she’s something else.”

“Do you mean what you say about me?” He asks shyly as his rough exterior crumbling down just as his gaze softened.

“Of course I did.” She smiled at him as she held his face in her hands.

“Thank you for being the sweetest girlfriend and sticking up for me.” He smiled as he held her waist.

“The way she talked about you was uncalled for. She needs to stay in her own lane, she disrespected you at my house when you were here! The last straw was comparing you to him” She kissed his nose and sighed, “I realized I never really told you anything else about him besides him living across the country.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I feel like you should at least know who my mother is comparing you to.” She said before she sighed, “Our relationship was a hot mess. It became toxic; we broke up once and had two separate breaks in the span of a year and a half. Everyone wanted us to get married but when he was promoted because the fire department wanted him in Boston, we quickly figured out that we both wanted different things. He wanted me to move with him and start a life together there and I had to stay here to finish getting my grandma’s house on the market after she passed” Her eyes met his as both hands rested on her hips.

“She passed away and left you with all of her assets right?” He asked as he quirked his eyebrow

“I’m the executive to her estate and her inheritance, hence how I can afford this place. When he decided that he couldn’t handle long distance without giving it a chance.” She breathed as her hand rested on the nape of his neck.

“I’m so sorry he broke your heart baby, you deserved so much better than that. Giving up on something is never the right decision.” He expressed as he kissed her forehead.

“I know but I’m happy he broke my heart.” She explained as she smiled at him. His facial expression gave away how confused he was, “If he didn’t break my heart, I would’ve never lived here nor would Grayson be working at your shop and I would've met you.”

“Fair enough.” He smiled before kissing her nose, “I probably should get dressed huh?” He blushed while he chuckled.

“Why didn’t you get dressed?” She asked as her fingers ran through his damp curls.

“I was worried about you, I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He said softly and she kissed his lips softly and he smiled against her lips.

“I’m okay, I promise.” She mused as he wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to her bedroom.

“That’s all I want, do you need me to stay a little bit longer before I go to work?” He asked as they walked into her bedroom.

“I’ll be okay. I need to clean for the party tomorrow and if you stay any longer cleaning is the last thing on my mind” She giggled and kissed his cheek, “Do you need me to make coffee for energy?”

“I’ll get an energy drink before work. I can’t believe we stayed up past 2 am last night just talking.” He smiled as he let go of her waist.

“You decided to ask me at 1 Am to give details about my family before you meet them. You know you don’t have to go to my sister’s birthday party right?” She asked as she sat down on the mattress.

“I know but I want to meet the rest of your family. You’ve told me so much about your niece and nephew I feel like I know them. Do you not want me to go?” He asked sheepishly.

“I want you to go but I don’t want to scare you off by showing you my family too soon.” She trailed off as she looked away from him nervous to what he’d say.

“Veronica, your mom didn’t scare me off, I’m right here.” He breathed as he grabbed her hand and kissed it.

“That’s true, you didn’t run for the hills.” She smiled softly as she looked in his eyes, she felt like she was going to melt the way he was looking at her.

“Of course not, I don’t mean to change the subject abruptly but we do need to talk about something.” He mentioned as he tucked her hair behind her ear.

Her chest tightened as her heart rate sped up as she thought of what he would want to talk about. “Yeah?”

“We need to talk about kinks, I think we should be open about it with each other and the things we like in the bedroom.”

“Oh okay, well you know I have a nipple kink.” She winked and he blushed, “Pain is a newer kink of mine that I haven’t explored yet if you are into that. Sensation play is another one.”

“I have a nipple kink too actually,” He said with a smirk, “We can explore pain kink together. Sensation play is new to me, but I’m open”

She smiled as she kissed his cheek, “Sensation play is when you use feathers, ice, silk scarves, and massage oils.”

“We can definitely do that. Talk to me if you like or love something, finishing is important to me. I’m not doing my job right if you don’t finish before me.” He smiled as he caressed her hand with his thumb.

“You can talk to me about something you want to try or are interested in. As long as you don’t belittle me by calling me princess and saying I’m a slut we should be okay.” She stated as she realized what she just told him.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. You told me when we first met not to call you princess and I’ve stood by that.” He cooed as he kissed her lips softly.

She smiled against his lips before pecking his lips again, “Thank you.”

“Of course, I’d better finish getting ready or I’m going to be late.” He breathed as he let go of her hand.

* * * * * * *

Bass shook the windows as the party raged on, Veronica walking around in a black bikini with a cropped white tank top. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her if he tried, she strutted around the house swaying her hips every chance she got to see his reaction. Everyone was outside as she was working on refilling the strawberry lemonade, he stood behind her and gripped her hips, “I should take you to your room and finally show you what happens when you tease me.”” He breathed on her neck before kissing her sweet spot.

“Why don’t you baby?.” She moaned as he softly sucked on her sweet pot.

He left a mark on her skin before slowly licking it, “You’d like that wouldn't you?”

Her ass slowly grinding on his semi hard cock, he groaned in response while softly slapped her ass, “Your bedroom, now.” He growled and he stepped away from her giving her space to walk her room. He followed close behind her as she opened the door and he stepped inside as she took off her tank top. “Lay down for me baby.”

She followed and laid down on her bed as he took off clothes except for his boxers as he hovered over her his hands cupping her breasts as he slowly kissed her neck. Her moans drove him crazy as he ran his thumb over her nipples as they hardened immediately. He rubbed her nipples over her top as he left soft kisses on her chest. She whined underneath him as her hips bucked in response to his teasing, he held her hips down as he slowly took off her bikini top and kissed all over her breasts as his lips slowly ghosted over her hard nipples.

“C-Calum please.” She breathed as he winked at her and slowly took off her bottoms.

He slowly spread her legs as he left open mouth kisses on her inner thighs, slowly getting closer to her heat. He softly kissed her clit as she moaned loudly, “Please what?”

“Do something.” She breathed as he kissed her hips, all over her stomach before holding her hips as he slowly swirled his tongue over her nipple feeling the cool metal against his tongue. He held her hips down as he felt them buck against him.

He softly sucked on her nipple while his hand cupped her breast, her moans filling the room as he softly let go of her nipple with a pop. She bit her lip as he flicked his tongue over her other nipple as he felt her slick folds, “Fuck your soaking baby.” He breathed as he slowly circled her clit with his thumb.

“Oh god Calum please.” She whined as he softly kissed each nipple.

He slid his fingers into her heat as he slowly pumped his fingers inside of her as she moaned his name. His thumb circled her clit as he felt her orgasm approaching, he curled his fingers inside of her as she screamed his name as she came around his fingers. He rode out her high as his pace slowed. He slid his fingers out of her as he licked them clean before softly sucking her clit, “O-Oh my god, Calum!”

His tongue slipped inside of her entrance as his thumb softly circled figure 8’s on her clit. He felt her walls clenching as her orgasm followed, he rode out her orgasm as his tongue swirled inside her. He kissed her clit before licking his lips, “Fuck baby, I know you can cum one more time for me.” He winked as he swiftly took off his boxers as his hard cock sprung free hitting his stomach before he teased her wet folds with the tip of his cock using her arousal to lube him. He held her hips as he slowly thrusted into her, his cock filling her up inch by inch. He moaned as he felt her walls clench around his cock, he thrusts were deep and slow, “Fuck baby.”

He thrust deeper as she gasped, “Oh my god Calum, my g-spot!” She screamed as her fingertips dug into his back.

He thrusts became faster as he kept hitting the same spot as he felt her orgasm hit, he started thrusting harder as he rode her high as his followed. He kissed her feverishly as they moaned in each-others mouth as they came down from their highs. He slowly pulled out of her as she gasped, “Fucking hell baby.”

Her breath was heavy as her eyes closed, he laid down on the bed as he pulled her close as he softly caressed her cheek. She opened her eyes sleepily as she looked at him panting, “I’ve got you baby.”

“Wha-what's go-” She mumbled as he kissed her forehead.

“Shh shh, you’re okay. Focus on me,” He breathed as he kissed her cheek, “Are you dizzy baby?”

She nodded slowly, “I dunno what’s going on.”

“You’ve never experienced subspace baby, I’ve got you.” He comforted as he held her tight, “You did so good baby, so fucking good.”

She hummed in response as they laid together until she was no longer dizzy. He helped her get dressed as he threw his shorts on. He left to make sure Luke and Grayson could get people to leave. He ran a bath for her as he carried her into her bathroom.

* * * * * * *

Her hands gripped the steering wheel as she drove to the outdoor venue where the annual ‘Midsummer's’ festival was taking place. Each year it was different which drove her crazy, she felt his hand softly squeeze her thigh, “It’s gonna be okay pretty girl, I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want you to think that I want you to meet and talk to every single person that’s attending. My mom always makes a big deal out of this festival.” She breathed as she licked her lips.

“I’ll be too busy staring at you in that pink dress.” He cooed as he smiled at her.

He was referring to the silk pink dress she bought for Midsummer the previous year but was unable to go due to preparing to sell her grandma’s house. “This ol thing?”

“Angel, you look like a Greek goddess.” He purred as he kissed her cheek causing her to blush.

“If I’m a Greek goddess then you're a Maori god” She giggled as they pulled into the parking lot.

“As long as you agree that you are a Greek goddess ” He chuckled as she parked her car, he took off his seat belt and grabbed his phone off the dock. Calum insisted he get the door for her and she waited for him.

He helped her out of the car and held her hand as they walked together, “If you want to go just tell me.”

“Okay, same goes to you” She joked as she locked the car, kissing his cheek.

He chuckled before letting go of her hand so he could wrap his arm around her pulling her close.

The mixture of voices and laughter with the music shifted her focus on finding her sister. Her eyes fixed on the man talking to her mom. Everything surrounding her faded as she took in who was standing less than 30 ft from her. She closed her eyes and reopened them just in case she was seeing things, but in this case she wasn’t. She heard his voice which set off the last conversation replaying in her head.

“You’re so unbelievable! Five days ago you practically begged me to move across the country for you and now you're walking away?” She argued

“What else is there to do Ronnie?” He asked as he put his shoes on.

“So that’s it then? You’re just giving up without even trying?” Veronica accused as she got off of the couch.

“You won’t move to Boston so why even try something that wasn't meant to be?” He pointed out as he threw his hands up in the air.

“I’ve told you so many times why I can’t.” She expressed.

“I’m tired of your excuses Ronnie. It’s over.” He stated as he grabbed his stuff and walked towards the door.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to process what was going on. Almost two years of her life spent growing and loving him. Her first serious relationship since she finished college. She knew he was partially right. She didn’t know why it had to end the way it did. He left her house slamming the front door behind him.

She was brought back to the party when Calum stood in front of her holding her face in his hands, “Baby? Are you okay?”

“Calum, Jaiden is here.” She breathed as his eyes widened when she said his name.

“Jaiden as in your ex? Where is he?” He asked as he looked around.

“He’s talking to my mom.” She explained as he wrapped his arm tightly around her waist as he looked for her mom.

He softly growled and looked in her eyes, “Wow, that’s him?”

She nodded and wrapped her arm around his waist, “Mhm, why?”

“He looks like he eats the protein powder right out of the container.” He huffed before looking in her eyes.

“Calum!” She whispered as she shook her head playfully.

“What? He looks like a guy who douses himself in Axe instead of real cologne.” He whispered before walking with her in the opposite direction.

“Now you’re just trying to make me feel better.” She stated as she kissed his cheek.

“I’m just telling the truth, can’t believe you dated him.” He mused as they walked towards the appetizers. Tatum walked up to them and showed them where all of the vegan appetizers she made just for Calum. “Can’t believe your sister made all of this for me.”

“I can, that’s just who she is. My mom got the rest catered but my sister wanted to make sure you had something to eat.” She smiled as they grabbed plates.

When they were done getting food they found a spot to sit down underneath the lights and away from where her ex was.

“Do you want me to get us drinks babe?” He asked as he snacked on veggies.

“Sure baby, you know what I like.” She smiled as he kissed her forehead and stood up placing his plate in place of where he was sitting.

“I’ll be back in a flash.” He stated as he disappeared in the crowd.

He came back quicker than she anticipated and grabbed his plate so he could sit down, he handed her a Pina Colada as she finished eating what was on her plate. He set his drink down so he could finish his plate before drinking.

She took a sip of her drink and sighed, “How much were the drinks?”

“They were free! I feel like I’m at a wedding!” He gushed as he drank his beer.

“That’s amazing!” She smiled as she put her pate on her lap as she cradled his drink, taking sips occasionally.

Calum finished his food and they walked to the nearest trash to throw their plates away, Tatum came over as her eyes widened.

“Did you know Jaiden was coming?” She asked nervously as he was nearby.

“Hell no, mom must’ve known he was in town. I can’t believe her.” Tatum shook her head as she looked in her eyes.

“She did this on purpose, she thinks he’s the greatest boyfriend I’ve ever had.” She explains as Calum shook his head.

“As if! He’s one of the worst, if not the worst. She didn’t even tell me his parents were coming.” Tatum gushed as she motioned Penelope to come over, “I hope the vegan food I made was okay, it’s been a while since I've made any.”

“It was more than okay, thank you for making it.” Calum smiled as he finished his drink.

Penelope came running in her dress and smiled, “Uncle Cal!!”

Veronica giggled as Tatum tsked, “Penny! What did I tell you about calling him that?”

“It’s okay, I’ve been called worse.” Calum chuckled as Penelope giggled.

“Just tell me if it gets annoying.” Tatum giggled as her mom motioned for her to come over, “Gotta go, her highness is waiting.”

They all laughed as Tatum left, “We should go dance, barely anyone is dancing.” Penelope blurted

“Do you wanna dance with us baby?” She asked him as she gave him her puppy eyes.

“Of course, let’s tear up the dance floor!” Calum cheered as he walked with them towards the open area where maybe 8 people were dancing. The string of lights lit the dance floor as Juice by Lizzo blasted through the speakers as they started dancing ignoring the looks they were receiving. They attempted to dance and sing along at the same time as more people joined the dance floor. After dancing to multiple summer songs, Northern Wind by City and Colour started and Calum pulled her into his arms as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hi pretty girl.”

“Hi baby.” She smiled as he leaned forward pressing her forehead against his as they danced slowly.

His arms held her tight as he looked in her eyes as her back arched as he dipped her as he kissed her lips softly causing her to giggle.

He brought her back to him as he wrapped one arm around her waist and grabbed her other hand before twirling her, “Calum!”

He chuckled before pulling her close as his hand rested on the small of her back holding her hand as she rested her hand on his chest, “I can’t believe you dipped and twirled me.”

He chuckled before kissing her lips softly, she slowly slipped her tongue in his mouth as she licked his bottom lip. He slowly opened his mouth as their tongues battled for dominance, she held his face in her hand as he held her hips firmly.

Her and Calum stood in place as they kissed passionately on the dance floor, she saw stars as her eyes were closed. Everyone surrounding them disappeared as the world stopped, the music playing softly as he held her close as he breathed on her lips before softly kissing them, “I can’t get enough of you.”

She felt her cheeks turn pink as she looked in his eyes, “You took the words out of my mouth.” She giggled as her eyes slowly roamed the room before looking at him as the music became more upbeat.

He kept her close as they walked away from the dance floor, she stood in front of Calum as he made sure Penelope was safe dancing on her own.

Her eyes widened as she saw Jaiden walking in their direction, her eyes meeting his as she gulped, “Cal- He’s coming over here.”

“He’s what?” He remarked as he turned around slowly.

“Jaiden is coming over here. We should go.” She breathed as she looked at Calum.

He turned all the way around and kissed her forehead softly, “That’s what he wants pretty girl, we’ll talk to him for a little bit. I promise.”

Jaiden was scarily close as her heart rate sped up as her eyes met his, Calum’s arm wrapped around her waist pulling her against him as she rested her hand on his chest.

“Ronnie!” Jaiden said in a casual tone as though their last conversation wasn’t them yelling at each other.

“Jaiden!” She faked a smile hoping he wouldn’t remember her fake smile, “How are you?”

“I’m good, how are you? Is this your boyfriend?” He asked with a smile as he furrowed his brow.

“I’m great, this is Calum, my boyfriend.” She explained as she looked at Calum with a smile and he winked at her.

“Nice to meet you Jaiden,” He stretched out his free hand to shake Jaidens, “I was under the impression you lived in Boston!”

Veronica held back her laughter as Jaiden cleared his throat, “I do live in Boston, I’m helping my parents move out of their house into a smaller place.”

“You’re parent’s are moving? I love that house.” She said sincerely.

“So do I but they don’t need a huge house anymore, they are having a going away party. You guys should come!” Jaiden mentioned as he crossed his arms.

“When is it?” Calum asked and Veronica playfully shook her head and giggled softly.

“The last week of July.” Jaiden speculated as his eyes narrowed at Calum.

Before Veronica could answer Calum cleared his throat, “I think that’s the weekend Ronnie and I are going to Palm Springs for a getaway, isn’t that right baby?”

She had no idea what he was talking about, she didn’t want Jaiden to know Calum was making an excuse for them not to go. She nodded and smiled at Calum, “That’s right. We just confirmed our reservation.” From her peripheral she could see Jaidens lips tighten, a clear sign of his jealousy. She hated how well she knew him.

Jaiden’s eyes narrowed as he slowly stepped away from them, “That should be fun, I’m gonna go get a drink! I’ll circle back later.” Jaiden implied as he walked away from them.

She looked at Calum’s whose smile was growing by the second, “Did Gray tell you about my grandma’s timeshare in Palm Springs?”

“I texted him when I went to get drinks and he told me you never took him.” He smirked before kissing her forehead.

“If you wanted to go you could’ve asked me, I’ve never been on a romantic getaway.” She beamed as she pressed her body against his.

“I just wanted to make him jealous. I’d love to go on one with you pretty girl. All I need are dates and I’m there.” He mused as he wrapped his arms around her.

(Cal Pov)

He leaned against the wall as he lit his cigarette looking at the crowd of people he was slowly getting acquainted with. Veronica left to go to the bathroom and he had been ignoring his craving for nicotine all night. His eyes widened as he saw Jaiden make his way towards Calum. He inhaled his cigarette in an attempt to cover his sigh.

“Ronnie's okay with you smoking?" Jaiden asked bluntly as he stood in front of him with his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, I don't smoke that much around her since she's allergic." He expressed as he inhaled his cigarette before exhaling.

"She told you that?" Jaiden pressed as he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.

He nods, "Doesn't take rocket science to figure out she is. she's always coughing when I smoke near her.”

"She hated when I smoked weed too, constantly complained about it. I found out later that she just hates the smell."

"What's your point?" He asked as he finished his cigarette.

"She lies constantly, I'm sure she told you nothing's happened between her and Grayson." Jaiden insinuated as he puffed his chest out.

"I think you've had too much to drink."

"I'd be saying this if I was sober, I don't know if she's gained weight since the last time I saw her or if the dress she's wearing doesnt fit her," Jaiden pointed out.

He felt his heart rate increase as he tried to remain calm, “Who the fuck do you think you are disrespecting my girlfriend? I'd quit while you're ahead."

"Your girlfriend is a slut, she can't keep her legs open to save her life. It's better you know now." Jaiden spat as he crossed his arms.

"You're a disgrace to firefighters and the general male population. It's better you know that now."

“I know for a fact that she’ll come crawling back when you decide to break up with her. I can’t blame you man, she’s not the prettiest girl in the crowd but damn does she know how to put it down. One time, she was taking my dick so well and I took a video without her knowledge and sent it to all of my bros so they could see how easily she gives it up-”

Red. That's all he could see in his eyes as his hand turned into a fist and aimed for his eye. His blood boiling as his heart rate skyrocketed while Jaiden fell to the floor from impact. His fists hitting both of his eyes as Jaiden attempted to get up, Calum straddled him and grabbed his throat, "Don’t you fucking dare talk about Veronica like that. You barely made her cum, she didn't experience subspace until she met me. Stay away from her," His grip tightened as he inched closer to his face to empathize, "Don't talk to her, look at her. Hell don't think of her or dream about her." He spit in his face before he his grip loosened before letting go of Jaidens neck and stood up. Sharp pains ran through his veins as he looked at his bruised knuckles. He turned to see Veronica before she grabbed his arm and led him inside "Calum are you okay?" She gasped as she led him into a room he didn't recognize as the white walls blurring his senses.

Words failed him as he looked at her defeated because his anger got the best of him at the worst place. Surrounded by her family members, friends all meeting him for the first time.

"Calum?"

He felt ice hitting his newly bruised knuckles as his eyes met hers. He could see the hurt in her eyes as he gulped, "Ronnie the things he was saying about you were way out of line and I lost it."

He looked down afraid of what she'd say next, she softly lifted his face holding on to his jaw gently. "I-I'm so sorry I ruined the night. I can take an uber home if you want me to-"

Before he could finish his apology her soft lips firm on his as she kissed him, his eyes closing as his heart rate was at a normal pace. "Calum I'm sorry I disappeared, after I went to the bathroom my nephew was having a breakdown because he didn't want to go home."

"Ronnie dont apologize for that. I’m not going to apologize for hitting him, he deserved it. The way he spoke about you was out of line."

"I'm not asking you to. What did he say?" She asked softly

"Can I tell you later?"

"Oh course, cmere." She smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer.

He deeply sighed as he rested his head on her shoulder, "At least I know your dad approves of me."

"He already approved of you, this just sealed the deal" She giggled as his breath slowly relaxed.

Penelope came into the kitchen to inform them Jaiden and his parents left and they decided to go back outside to say their goodbyes. Tatum and Penelope thanked him for coming and sticking up for Veronica. Tatum packaged the vegan food Calum didn't consume and put it in a bag for him to take home. Veronica was glued to him as they walked towards the parking lot.

"Just think Cal, if you didn’t come tonight it would've been so much worse." She mentioned as she leaned against her car.

"How could it possibly have been worse? I attacked him."

"If you didn’t come, I would've been stuck dealing with him all night." She beamed as she rested her hands on his chest.

"I still don't see how me coming was a good thing.."

"You coming was the best part of the night. You gushing over the bar that you didn't have to pay for, you constantly telling me how beautiful I looked. The way we danced and didn't care if we got weird looks" She gushed as she looked in his eyes and smiled "My personal favorite? You defending me like that."

“I wasn’t going to let him get away with what he said about my girl.” He mused as he held her hips before kissing her cheeks.

She smiled as her gaze was fixed on what was going on behind Cal, “My parents are coming over.”

He slowly turned around as he stood next to her as they got closer, “Calum!” Her mom cheered. He had no idea what was going on. This was the first time her mom looked at him with a smile, it almost scared him.

“Is everything okay?” Veronica asked nervously as she looked at him and then her parents.

“Yeah of course, we just wanted to come over here and talk to you.” Her dad started as he looked at Veronica’s mom, “We saw what happened, it’s obvious you truly care for her”

“She means so much to me and I couldn’t let that asshole talk like that and walk away.” He expressed as he looked at Veronica who was blushing.

“We both appreciate what you did for her, we overheard what he said. I have to apologize for my behavior the day we met, I shouldn’t have compared you to Jaiden. You are nothing like him, in the best ways.” Her mom apologized as she smiled.

He was in shock but he managed to get out, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

They both said their goodbyes and Calum got in the passenger's side of the car as Veronica drove while his hand rested on her thigh. Music played softly in the background as she drove to his house.

t a g l i s t - @pxrxmoore @sublimehood @talkfastromance4 @ghostoflrh @calumscalm @mellifluoushood @calumthomcs @twilightmomentswithyou @boytoynamedcalum @ohhmuke @calswildflower @highscal @sanrioluke @softlrh @flowers-on-the-graves @currentlyupcalsass @clemmings @tirednotflirting @highfivecalum @wastelandcth @idivedeeperforyou @feliznavidaddycal @tpwkcal @icyicejuice @notinthesameguey @blackbutterfliescal

#love is fatal #calum hood x oc #calum hood #calum hood au #calum hood tattoo au

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theskyeandsea · 4 years

Text

Just Medicine || Erin & Skylar

Location: Nic & Skylar’s Home

Timing: June 14th

Tagging: @corpse--diem & @theskyeandsea

Description: Concerned by their troubling conversation online, Erin comes to check in on Skylar and the answers she finds are only more alarming.

Warnings: Addiction TW

If there was one person in town Erin never thought she had to worry about, it was the very one she found herself using the speed limit as a suggestion to get to right now. God damn it, Skylar. Sweet, innocent Skylar. The same young woman who taught ASL, who helped throw a gator-theme birthday bash. The woman was a seal, for Christ’s sake. It was an unfair pedestal to put her on, Erin knew that, and felt guilty when her frustrations drew those quick-fire judgments. People slipped up, lost their footing while trying to balance their worlds on their shoulders. Seal or not, Skylar was as susceptible as anyone. She didn’t know how to help, or if she could, but she’d be there even for a night to maybe help her keep her footing. Judging by the way she spoke earlier, that was very possibly a literal predicament. And with Nic fucking off into the woods, her own worry needed an outlet. And Skylar needed someone. “Skylar!” Erin hollered, nice and loud as she banged in the door. Jabbed the doorbell a few times for good measure. “Don’t even think about ignoring me, kid! I know where you hide your spare key!”

For the past twenty four hours, Skylar had felt as though she was on cloud nine. Untouchable, nothing could stop her, nothing could hold her down. There was no pain, there wasn’t anything other than the euphoria that came with feeling completely, entirely good. The world was wonderful and bright and the sun was shining, eyeball free. Between that and her random spurts of energy that had driven her to run around in the backyard until she was dizzy, Skylar was feeling great. She’d never felt this way before. Never, ever, ever. Right now, she was lying in the middle of the living room, watching the fan whirl overhead, her eyes tracking one of the blades. Around and around and around and around and-- Skylar sat upright when she heard a loud pounding at the door. Glancing at her phone, she tilted her head. Erin? Listening closer, she nodded. Erin. Walking to the door, Skylar opened it, a dazed grin still on her face. “Hey, Erin!”

The longer Erin stood there waiting, the higher her blood pressure climbed. Tried not to think hard about why it was taking her so long to get to the damn door but it was hard when those enthusiastic, muddled messages kept replaying in her head. Then finally, footsteps. Skylar greeted her with a smile that wasn’t quite right, dark circles underlining nearly nonexistent pupils. “Skylar—“ she started but that concern returned, sharper than before as it trickled down her throat like barbed wire. Did she even remember Erin was coming over? It seemed like Skylar’s initial resistance to her company had disappeared like the rest of her good sense. “Hi,” she finally breathed out. “Can I come in?” It was framed as a question but Erin was already crossing the threshold to let herself in. There was no way she was leaving now.

Erin was standing right in front of her and then she wasn’t, she was already inside. Skylar nodded all the same, happy to let the woman inside. “Nic’s not here right now, but,” She frowned, trying to piece together things. Time was strange. It felt both incredibly fast and slow at the same time-- like every moment went for infinity, but every hour felt like a second. Which didn’t make sense, even to her. “I think I already told you that.” Shutting the door behind her, Skylar wandered back over to the couch, where Dundee was still curled up. What she really wanted to do was lie on the floor like she had been doing before, the feeling of the wood cool compared to the rug. But, instead, she sat on the couch next to Dundee, staring at the dog as it wagged its tail once at her before going back to sleep. Running her hands against the material of the couch, Skylar tilted her head at Erin. “Why are you here again? Not that I’m not happy that you’re here, it’s always nice when you are! Nic smiles a lot when you say you’re coming by. But he’s not here right now.”

All Erin could do was follow silently, observing Skylar’s sporadic train of thought—when she wasn’t veering off course or colliding with other thoughts, anyway. It was all still jumbled and worrisome, even if she was being as sweet as she always was. “Yeah, I know he’s not,” she nodded. Her eyes flickered around the large room anyway, like he’d changed his mind and come home. Part of her was hoping that he had, that she’d answer the door and see him standing there. But the moment she saw Skylar’s state, it was likely for the best. One mess at a time. Couldn’t help smiling, even briefly, at her words, dropping her gaze to stare at the floor. “I didn’t come to see him,” Erin said, take great care to speak softly as she joined her on the couch. “I came to see you.” She bit her lip, Skylar’s bloodshot eyes more vibrant ever in the better lighting. “You said you were feeling better and I just—“ she paused, shrugging. “I was hoping you could help me with something?”

As Erin continued to speak, Skylar blinked-- it was harder for her to hear, harder for her to pick up the words that she was saying. And, as she tried to focus on the woman’s lips in an attempt to lip read, she was only able to pick up bits and pieces. Not much, just little hints here and there that managed to make it through the wonderfully light feeling that had encompassed her. It felt like there were bubbles in her, like she was floating up and up and up and there was nothing that could bring her down. “Mhm! I’m better!” She said with a vigorous nod as she pieced together the last of the woman’s words. “Help you? What do you need?” She asked, wanting to do whatever she could to help Erin. She liked Erin, even if she had initially been a little creeped out to find out that she worked with dead people all the time.

Erin wasn’t entirely convinced Skylar was following what she was saying, her eyes roaming like they were a little lost when she spoke. Right. Slow it down. Ugh, this was painful. “I’m really happy that you’re so happy. Honestly, I am,” she nodded, taking her time, giving her a warmer smile. “But I gotta say, I’m not having the greatest day myself, you know? Like it’s been a really, really rough one.” Her brows narrowed in her direction, hoping Skylar was still out of it enough to roll with her impromptu plan. That part at least wasn’t a blatant lie? “I was hoping you could... show me what you did. To make yourself feel better.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “We’re friends, right? You’d help me out with something like that? Oh—just between us, too, of course,” she added, running her fingers along her lips like a zipper.

The slower Erin spoke, the harder it was for Skylar to track what she was saying. The lip movements didn’t make as much sense, the pauses made it harder for her to latch onto what was being said. But, she did her best to parse through the words. Not… greatest… rough. “Oh, no! I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry, that’s awful.” She said, her head lolling back against the soft cushion of the couch as she stared up at Erin. She didn’t want Erin to have a bad day and she wanted to help! She really, really did. But, a look of confusion spread across her face at her words. “Are you hurt?” She asked, confused. Because the stuff making her feel better, it was only if she was hurting. Looking at Erin, she tilted her head. “Did someone hurt you?”

This was going to be difficult no matter which way she spliced it, huh? Erin willed her patience to persevere and worked her jaw, then nodded. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” she assured her, pausing briefly as she tried to navigate a believable lie. “Yep,” she answered when it felt like she was taking too long. “I, uh—got into an argument the other day with a real jerk. You don’t know him, and I took care of it so don’t worry about that either, but he gave me a heck of a shiner.” She pointed to the very faint purpled and yellowed bruise that still lingered near her eye and down her cheek. Cringed first show, then pointed to the back of her head. “Hit my head too, been killing me ever since. So if you’ve got anything to help—I’d really appreciate it.”

As Erin showed her the marks on the side of her head, Skylar’s eyes widened in shock. “And he hit you? Does Nic know?” She asked, a thin trickle of concern managing to seep through the buoyant lightness that kept her spirits aloft, that kept her from feeling the pain that she normally would. At the other woman’s words, Skylar bit the inside of her cheek, though the gesture lacked the normal dull pressure that it usually did. The stuff Felix gave to her, it was strong. Really, really strong. How else could it have worked on her? It would probably be super bad for Erin. So she wasn’t going to show her the bliss. Nope, that would probably knock her out really bad. But, she still had a pill or two left from when she’d gotten shot by the river. “I’ve got something that could help!” She said, standing up on slightly unsteady feet before walking to her room.

Erin shook her head softly, waving off Skylar’s concern. “Nic knows. It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but—I hit him back,” she assured her, the sound of the metal baseball back smacking against skull thundering in her mind. “Got him sent to a place where he can’t hurt anyone again.” She shifted slightly. Was this actually working? Hopefully she wouldn’t remember why Erin needed whatever it was that had gotten Skylar so completely fucked up in the first place. Erin was on her feet, following behind her—partially to make sure she made it to her room in one piece. But she hung back by the doorway, crossing her arms as she watched her. As glad as she was that this was actually about to work, her insides twisted at the reality here. Skylar wasn’t fucking okay. “And this helped?” She asked, peering into her room

“Oh, okay.” Skylar nodded, her concerns disappearing with the wave of Erin’s hand. If she said it was fine, if she said that the guy who hurt her was gone, then there wasn’t anything for her to worry about. As she entered her room, she made her way to her desk, opening the drawer and rummaging around among the papers, pens, and the random odds and ends that rolled around inside. Her fingers brushed against the small box Felix had sent her, that she’d taped to the underside of the desk to hide it from anyone who might try and find it. Instead of taking the box, her fingers curled around the pill bottle he’d sent her over a month ago. A few loose pills rattled around and she showed it to Erin. “I don’t know if it would be safe for you, though. It’s very, very strong. Medicine doesn’t work on me very well, so I need a lot of it.” She said, holding out the bottle.

Erin bit the inside of her lip as she eyed the pill bottle, torn between being infuriated and heartbroken right now. “I’m not taking these,” she answered honestly, grabbing the bottle. So this was it, huh? There only a few left, which made sense considering Skylar’s current state. Erin held it up before giving it a little shake at her, then met her bloodshot eyes. “And neither are you,” she added, the softness in her tone slipping, giving way to a mix of concern and disappointment. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this shit isn’t the answer. I know you feel good now but it’s temporary.” Skylar was a grown ass woman and Erin knew she wasn’t saying anything every after school special had to offer, but she had to try right? She handed the bottle back to her “I want you to toss those. Right now.”

Blinking in confusion, Skylar was too out of it to react quickly enough to stop Erin from pulling the pill bottle from her hand. Before she could wrap her head around what was going on, the bottle was back in her hand and she was staring at Erin with a confused expression on her face. “I... Why? I’ve never felt good, in my entire life. Never, ever.” She shook her head vigorously. Even if these weren’t the right pills, what she was saying about the medicine… “It’s medicine. It’s helping me. It’s helping me not feel bad and not be stuck,” Skylar pointed at her bed, “Stuck in bed all day because, because everything is too much.” And she didn’t need to change. And that was the most important thing.

Erin felt another crack in her chest give way while Skylar spoke. “Skylar…” she shook her head. “It’s not. I swear to you that it’s not. What you’re feeling, right now? It’s not real. There are other ways—better ways—to cope. I promise. I’m not just staying that either. I understand… that,” she said, gesturing to the bed now too. That heavy exhaustion that could trap a person down like a leaded blanket was a battle she knew all too well. It was hell. Turning to this was tempting on so many levels that she couldn’t blame Skylar at all for wanting that escape. But God did this ever feel a minefield. “Way better than you’d think, okay? And we can talk about all of that, as little or as much as you want.” Her eyes dropped to the bottle with the pills again. “After you flush those.”

Skylar did her best to muddle through Erin’s words. Not real? No, this was the only thing that felt real and right and good. Shaking her head, she looked at Erin, her blue eyes earnest, “I don’t think you do, though. No one really does. I hate what I am. It’s hurt me. It hurt my family, the people I care about. It still hurts me. And I don’t want to hurt anymore. I don’t want to hurt anyone else. I just want,” She let out a puff of air, blowing loose strands of hair from her face, “to be normal. And this is normal!” Skylar gestured to herself. “I feel good! I love how I am! I’m happy and better like this.” She nodded with renewed vigor.

Of all the nonsense Skylar had been blabbering on about, this threw Erin for a loop. It wasn’t nonsense at all, of course, if you focused on the direction this skewed train headed toward. It was very real. And very concerning. “Because you’re a selkie?” She asked, if only just to clarify. “What’s wrong with that?” Erin had her secrets, no question, but this specifically wasn’t an area she could dole out sage advice. And unless selkies were also some sort of man eating version of a seal she wasn’t aware of, she genuinely didn’t understand. She shook her head slowly. “Skylar—there is no normal. It doesn’t exist. And if there ever was one, it’s not you doped up on painkillers. It’s temporary because it’s not you. You will crash, and you will feel even more like shit than you did before.”

“Everything’s wrong with me.” Skylar said, her voice still even and upbeat as she spoke. She’d lost everything by being what she was. Her family had cut her out of their lives entirely. She’d tried and failed to gain control over this side of her, tried to figure out how to love what she was. She’d lost Ricky, lost the one person who had reassured her that he would be there to help her figure out what it meant to be a selkie. She’d only ever failed and lost and been hurt by what she was. So, what was wrong with this? What was wrong with feeling good? Even if it was only for now… maybe she could keep it going. If she just took a little more, took a little bit to make sure that she was good, that she was okay, maybe then she’d never need to turn. Maybe she could be human. “It’s okay. It’ll all be okay.” She said with a blissful smile.

Skylar was convinced this was the better way and Erin was realizing nothing she said was going to penetrate the iron-clad armor of serotonin that kept her grinning like an idiot. What little energy she had was depleting fast and what Erin could do right now was make sure she didn’t do anything stupid in this state. “It’ll be okay,” she echoed with a long sigh. Everything would be okay. It had to. Nic would come home and they’d work this all out. Squids and seal self-loathing be damned. She’d accept nothing less. “Come here,” she stepped forward, a temporary defeat in her voice as she wrapped her arms around the young woman. “I happen to think you’re pretty awesome just the way you are, you know. So I’m gonna stay here tonight and hang out. That alright with you?”

When Erin reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, Skylar wasn’t sure how to react. Hadn’t she been mad at her? But now she was hugging her. Whatever confusion she had was pushed out of her mind as she leaned into the embrace, burrowing her head into the woman’s shoulders. Skylar hugged Erin back, though her limbs felt limp and rubbery as she did so. “Okay. That sounds good to me.” She said, her voice muffled. This was good. Everything was right and good. Even if the house was empty, even if Nic was nowhere to be found, even if Shiloh hadn’t messaged her in days, even if Remmy had been torn into pieces before her eyes, even if Morgan was still trying to figure out her new life as a zombie, even if Deirdre had murdered people, even if White Crest was awful and cruel and terrible… Right now, things were good. And that’s what mattered.

#p: jm #p: erin nichols #addiction tw #wickedswriting

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saiilorstars · 5 years

Text

The Girl in the Forest

Chapter 10: A Witch’s Secret

// Story Masterlist //

Fandom: The Originals

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x Original Female Character

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Ma-leh-nee

No real warnings for now!

Requested tag: @queenmj10

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: Maleny and Klaus go on a hunt to discover the purpose of Kieran's key. On the other side, Cami and Elijah embark on their own hunt...but for a witch.

A blonde Maleny sat on a lonely tree stump in the middle of the forest. It was dawn out and the wind was light as only small wasps of her long hair seemed to move. Maleny's face was covered in tears, her blue eyes red and puffy from the crying she'd been doing for some time now. But that was all she could do after the awful argument she had with Klaus earlier.

"Little girl?" she heard a woman's voice call to her. Maleny turned her head to both sides for the source of the voice, "Little girl?" a middle-aged woman with long brown hair and brown eyes emerged from the trees.

"I'm not a little girl," Maleny declared as she rose to her feet, "And whoever you are, you need to go or-"

"Or what?" the woman raised an eyebrow, a small smirk on her face, "You'll use your nonexistent powers on me?"

Maleny eyebrows knitted together in confusion, "H-how did you know that? You're not from the village," she hadn't been able to identify the brunette as someone she recognized.

"I am on my own, child," the woman walked towards her but Maleny quickly moved behind the tree stump. The woman lightly chuckled, "I have not come to harm you, I have come to help you."

"How?"

"I know what Esther Mikaelson has done to you. I believe I can help."

"Why would you want to help? And how do you know what she did?" Maleny remained still, not daring to run for the woman was clearly a witch by the garbs she wore around her neck.

The woman flashed a knowing smile that gave Maleny chills, "The Mikaelsons have made several friends-"

"Enemies," Maleny corrected, the term no where near scaring her, "But those are enemies within the village. You are not from there so how do you know about them?"

"I have family in your village," the woman gave the brief explanation, apparently having no intention to elaborate more, " My name is Lilith, and I would like to help you get back what is yours."

Maleny's seriousness faltered at the reminder of her powers, "I...I can't get them back," she quietly sniffled, "I can never get them back."

"But that's not exactly what you want, is it?" Lilith raised an eyebrow, Maleny too engulfed in her feelings to question the knowledge of the woman, "You want to change who you are - for one of them."

Maleny shut her eyes, stifling another sob, "I just want to turn. But Klaus won't do it. He's too scared or something. And his mother isn't helping either."

"Esther is a selfish woman," Lilith declared, "I have been told all about her and believe me, you are not the first one she's wronged."

"I can imagine," Maleny whispered.

"Her children are in the dark about their mother's action and they believe they are sparing you the monstrosities they have become," Lilith moved for Maleny and came to stop in front of the stump.

Maleny looked up from the ground, "H-how do you know this? How do you know Esther stole my magic?"

"Child, that's not important. What is important is you doing what you want but no one will do."

Maleny frowned, not even realizing she was blurting out her story, "I helped her turn her children under false knowledge and she used it to take my magic..."

Lilith shook her head, "The worst thing a witch can do to her own kind."

Maleny was near tears again, "She's an awful being...but even now I ask her to use my own magic and turn me as well...but she declines."

"There is a way to live on for centuries without being what the Mikaelsons are," Lilith smirked, "There is a way that you will retain your youth, your beauty, and, most of all, your love for all of eternity."

The offer seemed attractive which brought Maleny to ask, "How so?"

"There is a spell, a spell only my hands can conjure. I will gladly help you be what you wish to be."

"And what's the price?"

"Upon granting the spell, your magic will return in bits and pieces, I ask that you allow me and my family to channel that power," Lilith explained, "We are in trouble and we need all the magic we can get. Please, allow me to channel your powers and I will give you what you want."

Maleny glanced back in the direction of the village, the place she knew Klaus was probably waiting for her. They had an awful argument where he explicitly swore to her he would never turn her. What future awaited for them if she would inevitably grow old while he stayed young? Esther had already told her countless times she would never do the spell again. Lilith's way seemed the only alternative that would guarantee an eternal life.

Lilith anxiously waited for an answer, "What do you say? Do we have an agreement?"

Maleny studied Lilith, trying to see anything that would give a motive to distrust. But there was none. Lilith just seemed hopeful, like there was a grand necessity for her. Maleny thought of it as a deal where both of them could win. Lilith would save her family and Maleny would garner immortality.

And so, after carefully thinking it one more time, Maleny held out a hand for Lilith, "I accept," she declared boldly.

Lilith grinned, taking Maleny's hand and leading her away from the stump, "Then we must get started. I promise you everything will change after this."

Maleny shot up in her bed with wide eyes, her mind quickly replaying that dream of the night. The sunlight emitting from the room's window made her realize it was day. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table to see it was noon. She had slept more than intended but what reward she'd gotten then.

She had willingly gone with that woman who had been the 'curser'. Slowly, Maleny reached for her journal on her nightstand and opened it up, reaching for a pen to write down her horrible revelation.

~ 0 ~

Cami was walking down the tomb rows of the cemetery with a small, white notepad in her hand and a pen in the other. After listening to Maleny she had decided to investigate on her own for the moment. There was someone Maleny had wanted to look more into and with everything that had happened lately, Maleny never got the chance. Cami was more than willing to start investigating Emily Cordera. She had been at the cemetery for a good thirty minutes or so looking through the graves until...

Emily Gates Cordera

Loving wife and cherished mother and grandmother

Cami's eyes widened at the name on the tomb. Her hand scribbled down the information on her notepad. While the name didn't match exactly, the dates coincided perfectly with the story Maleny had told her. Klaus was wrong, Emily Cordera did exist. The only question that stood was what had the woman wanted with 'Maya Sterling' in the 20th century? And did she meet Maya?

~ 0 ~

Genevieve was fiddling with a couple herbs in her hands when Cami burst in from the shop doors. Genevieve only had time to raise her eyes when Cami slammed the notepad on the counter, "Emily Cordera, who the hell was she? And what did she do to my cousin?"

"Well...I see someone is up to date with the news," Genevieve laid the herbs on the counter and looked at the blonde with a smirk.

"Maleny told me everything, including your little deal which by the way off. She's a bit hung up on the fact there's a mystery murderer on her trail. You told her about this woman, Emily, for a reason. What was it?"

Genevieve felt like throwing out the human from the shop but she knew by doing that she would anger Maleny and therefore make it impossible to get closer to Klaus and Hayley. And after her new orders from the ancestors, she couldn't risk that. She would have to help Maleny and tolerate her human cousin.

"Emily Cordera was a witch. She had family in New Orleans," Genevieve sighed, "In fact, she married in the city, a warlock of great powers."

"And?" Cami raised an eyebrow, "You were an ancestor and by that logic you know a lot more than you're letting on. What did she want from Maleny?"

"Maya, was a witch, an orphan," Genevieve shrugged and looked around the shop, "She had a couple friends but primarily the Mikaelsons'. Emily came into the city specifically for Maya. She never said what she wanted but after I died I got a little glimpse from the other side."

"Like?"

"Maya's prone, dead body was carried in by some group of witches, one of them Emily. I don't know how they did it but they killed her," Genevieve leaned on the counter with a fake, solemn smile, "and they sacrificed her for power."

Cami was stunned but it didn't fog her actions, "My uncle said something about that before dying. How could he know that Maleny had been sacrificed?"

"The hex placed on him allowed the ancestors to mess with his mind," Genevieve gave a shrug, "Something must have stuck."

"So, wait a minute," Cami rubbed her temple, "You knew all this time and you never said?"

"To be fair, I didn't know Maya and Maleny were the same person. I tended to avoid Maleny."

"Why did they sacrifice her? What did they want?"

"Power, it was an old spell they used," Genevieve honestly tried remembering the words of the spell, "A channeling spell, though. It's used, if I remember correctly, to give a family an increase of power."

"None of this makes sense," Cami whispered as she thought, "Sacrifices? Why did Emily come specifically for Maya? Why not any other witch?"

Genevieve honestly didn't know the answer to that, "I have no idea. You'd have to take that up with the current Cordera generation. Though I assume they knew Maya was the current Maleny in their generation."

"How would they know?" Cami asked more to herself than to Genevieve. How could the people know which woman was their target?

"Well," Genevieve honestly pondered on the question for a minute, "I would say Maleny has to be branded with something to identify her."

"Like I mark," Cami realized then, "Like...like a chained necklace?" what if the perception filter placed on Maleny's necklace had been not to necessarily hide but to identify her as the current prey for the cursers?

"Your studies haven't been in vain I see," Genevieve couldn't help her sarcasm which earned herself a glare from the blonde human.

"Okay, okay," Cami started to think about it again, "So the current generation of the curser lives and is hunting Maleny down by a mark she has to have. Who's the current generation now?"

"I can't remember all of them, some of them married, but I do know one," Genevieve smirked before saying the name she knew would cause chaos within the Quarter.

But by doing this, she would instantly garner trust not only from Maleny, but from the entire Mikaelson family. And if it would allow her to get close to the unborn baby, then so be it.

Let there be blood.

~ 0 ~

Maleny was frantically passing the pages of her mother's spell book, trying to figure out what kind of spell could do what Lilith had promised her all those centuries ago. But with the scarce dream it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Thankfully, or unfortunately, however he would react, Klaus walked into the study room of the compound. As soon as he saw her frantically looking at the pages, he knew something was wrong, "What are you looking for?" he approached her but didn't sit down.

"I had a dream..." was all Maleny mustered while reading words she could barely comprehend.

"Elaborate, perhaps?"

Maleny released a breath and set the book on her lap, "I had a dream last night...of myself, the original me," she looked up at him, "It appeared we had an argument and I ran into the woods or something where I met this woman, Lilith. She knew me, and she...offered me a deal: the deal I'm pretty sure is what allows me to be here today."

"Changing bodies without remembering," Klaus pointed out and made her frown, making him raise his hands in surrender, "Only saying. The deal wasn't that good."

"Well, I was angry at you, my mind wasn't thinking clearly," Maleny rolled her eyes, "Apparently we had some type of argument, and a big one."

"Ah yes," Klaus remembered that argument with a long sigh. He sat down on the edge of the bed, looking ahead, "That was the last time I saw you. And you were so...upset," Maleny noticed a distant look was taking him over, "That was certainly not the way I wanted to see you last."

Maleny looked down at the open book and simply could not help but to ask, "Then how would you have preferred to see me? Old and dead?"

"Maleny," Klaus sighed again, letting his head hang low, "Not this again. Please-"

"Well, it's the truth," Maleny shrugged. She didn't intend to start an argument with him about it but she did want him to see the truth, a truth she had wanted him to see centuries ago.

"Centuries later and you still cannot let it go?"

"Well look at me," Maleny gestured to herself, "What ever I did, I thought was right because no one else wanted to turn me."

"So now this is my fault?" Klaus stood up, easily taking the blame as was the custom. However, with Maleny, it...it was not easy, "It's my fault you disappeared?"

Maleny saw the guilt she was willing to bet had followed Klaus for centuries, starting the day she originally disappeared, "No, I don't think it was your fault," she made sure to voice her thoughts, "I did it out of my own choice. I thought if I did it, then..." she felt awkward saying her next words, "...you and I could be together," she cleared her throat as she felt a warm blush rush in her face, "Forever."

"I wanted that too, Maleny, but I just didn't want you to go through what I had," Klaus sighed, "I didn't want you to suffer."

"I get it," Maleny told him, meaning it, "but because of this I actually chose to take this curse. You know, Maya, Victoria, Cordelia and Valerie told me I chose this path...and that's why I ended up stealing their lives. It may not have been intentional but it was my fault. I have been stealing lives for a very long time now. I'm an awful woman."

On that last accusation, Klaus had to openly disagree, "You are far from that. How can you think that?"

Maleny looked down momentarily, choosing to be honest with him as he deserved to know the important detail she'd also remembered, "Klaus, I remembered that...I helped your mother turn you and your family into vampires..." the knowledge left Klaus stunned, his eyes widening for a minute. Maleny took a deep breath and faced him, expressing her guilt in her eyes, "I don't think Esther told me exactly what she was going to do to you but I know I helped her...and in the process, she took my most of my magic. Genevieve was right, it was stolen. I just didn't think it was your mother."

"That..that doesn't make sense," Klaus said, still processing the grave accusation against Esther, "My mother saw you as one of her own..."

"And she turned her own into vampires," Maleny gently pointed out, "If she treated me like her own then of course she had to hurt me in some way. But that's not what I wanted to tell you, well...it wasn't the most important thing I had to tell you. I want you to know that you turning wasn't all her fault - it was mine too," her eyes began to water up as she continued, "I'm sorry, Klaus. I helped her turn you and hurt you. I'm so sorry!"

"I would never blame you," Klaus immediately took her into a hug, his mind reaching to the conclusion that this was one more thing Esther was responsible for.

"You should," Maleny pulled away enough to look at him, her face now covered with tears, "Because I helped her, me," she pointed at herself, "You trusted me and I let you down."

"No, no," Klaus still insisted and began to clear her tears from her cheeks, "I know you, and I know you would have never done something that you knew would hurt people."

"So..." Maleny sniffled and shakily breathed in, "...you're not...you know...mad at me? Don't want to lock me up somewhere?"

"Never," Klaus said then added, "Well, besides this place," he pointed to the room and made her chuckle, "I still don't want you going out on your own."

"I know," she said quietly, no longer upset about it. She learned that spending time with him hadn't been so bad in the end. It had certainly helped remembering more things of their past.

"How about we take another look at that spell book," Klaus suggested, nodding over to Maleny's spell book, "Now that we know a little more of the spell we can pinpoint one in the book."

"Okay," Maleny sniffled again and looked for the book beside her, "but I tried to on my own and it's not easy. There's a lot of stuff in it."

"Well, now it's us doing the job - and we were always a good team, you know," Klaus smirked at her, making her sheepishly smile back, "And, if we can't find it, we could always call your little witch friend. Sure she'll love to hear me asking for help."

"Maybe if you asked nicely," Maleny joked with him and grabbed her book, putting it on her lap, "she would gladly accept."

"Yeah, we'll see," Klaus scooted closer to see the pages, having no intention of asking Davina Claire for something in a 'nice' way.

~ 0 ~

Elijah was confused as he stood in front of a gravestone with the name 'Emily Cordera' carved into the headstone. He, frankly, had a lot to do and so receiving a call from Cami practically demanding to meet with him wasn't a very pleasing task. He could start with the fact witches weren't very content with having a vampire, an Original, standing in the one territory they could call their own. Thankfully, he could see Cami coming from across the row, though her expression wasn't the usual, cheerful one she commonly bore. But nowadays, what other face could anyone have?

"Thanks for coming here," was the first thing Cami said when they stood only feet away from each other, "I know this wasn't, um..."

"My first choice?" Elijah raised an eyebrow, "No, of course not. Any other place would've been good, but then again...you didn't exactly leave time for me to make a suggestion."

Cami didn't look the least bit ashamed of the hurried call she'd given to earlier, "I'm sorry. But I knew that if I told you what I know in the compound, Klaus would certainly hear and then, well...bloodshed would happen," the words made Elijah tense a bit, mostly because he knew Cami wouldn't go to such measures for nothing, "Plus, I thought you would need concrete proof," she looked at the gravestone.

"What is it, Cami?"

"This woman," Cami gestured to the gravestone, "is responsible for Maya Sterling's death in the 20th century."

Elijah glanced at the tombstone, once again confused, "That is impossible. Maya died the day we fled the city. My father killed her."

"You think that's what happened," Cami corrected, "But the truth is Maya didn't die that night. And I have a witness: Marcel. He said that Maya gasped back to life and a couple days later she went missing," all of that was new to Elijah, and with that came doubt.

"Well, Marcel isn't quite the best source of history," he pretended to dust off something from his fingers, "I'm sure you've heard of the attack he caused a couple days ago."

"Yes, but this was before you threw him out of the city," Cami explained, "This was him trying to protect me from what he considered a threat, Maleny. Maya survived your father's attack but she didn't have the same luck with this woman, Emily."

"Cami, all this is-"

"Please," Cami raised a hand and stopped Elijah from continuing, "Just...hear me out, okay? I'm a psychologist, well, getting there, but I'm sure I've cracked something," Elijah nodded and motioned for her to keep going. Cami took a breath, "Emily Cordera, along with her family, sacrificed Maya for power. She killed Maya somehow, knowing just the way for Maya to actually die. But you know what gets me the most? Is how did Emily decide/know Maya would be the witch to be sacrificed? Maleny's been branded with some sort of recognizable mark that allows the enemy to know she's the target - her chained necklace that belongs to her mother. She had to have had it on her in the past, hidden to you all except for the cursers which would then explain the times where she disappeared. She disappeared because the enemy took her to be sacrificed for power..."

"You've certainly got the makings of a psychologist," Elijah concluded after several moments of silence had gone by, "Tell me now, how did you gather this information?"

Cami knew the answer would spark doubts but she still went ahead and said it anyways, "Genevieve told me something and then I put it together."

"What? And you believed that woman?" Elijah stepped forwards, already irritated this seemed like a loss of time.

"I know she isn't a reliable source but I studied everything she told me and it checks out," Cami assured, "She was telling the truth. My theory could be correct, and if it is then that means Maleny is in serious danger."

Elijah had to admit that explanation would fit perfectly with the two attempted murders Maleny had endured. He just couldn't figure out why Genevieve would be so gracious to tell the truth all of a sudden.

"There's one more thing," Cami said quietly, garnering his attention fast, "Genevieve told me the current living Cordera generation..."

"Who?"

"Now look, just because he's part of the family doesn't mean he could have anything to do with it," Cami said first which alerted Elijah and frankly left him suspicious, "It's...Riley. His name is Riley Dawson Gates...Cordera. Emily Cordera was his grandmother - great grandmother or something."

"Do you mean to tell me that, perhaps, all this time the murderer was right under our noses? In our home?" Elijah was horrified to learn he had been that careless...and that Klaus could've been right this whole time.

"Like I said, we don't know if he has anything to do with it," Cami pointed in reminder, "Plus, Maleny said that Riley wasn't even there the two times something happened."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean he couldn't have gotten one of his little friends to do the dirty work," Elijah pointed out, his agitation of himself growing more and more, "Or, that he hid to do the crime."

Cami suspected he would be going into some type of attack sooner or later, making her panic, "I called you because I would think that between you and Klaus, you would be the brother with the least chances of murder."

"Smart move," Elijah remarked and studied her a moment, "We have to tell them..."

"But the first thing Klaus will do is kill that poor guy," Cami crossed her arms, "My theory isn't 100% correct. I don't want Maleny mad with me because I made Klaus kill her friend."

"But Riley is part of the Corderas', meaning we have to pay extra close attention," Elijah countered with, "I believe I can convince my brother to hold off on his actions..."

"You can make him not kill Riley?"

"Oh no, that man's dead either way," Elijah shook his head, surprising Cami with his bluntness, "But we can do this in a smart way, one that'll give us information on how to help Maleny. But first thing's first, Maleny can't know about Riley. I fear her appreciation for him will cloud her judgement."

Cami nodded in agreement, "Okay, but if he turns out to be innocent he's not going to die," she warned, "Just because his grandmother was bad doesn't make him bad as well."

Elijah smiled, "Camille, when you've lived as long as I have, you come to learn the phrase 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree' is almost always true."

Cami tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, "But your parents weren't exactly 'parents of the year' and I don't think you're all that bad. Maleny's father was also a horrible man and she's the complete opposite. Sometimes, the bad things in life can make you kind."

Elijah's smile grew a little more and gave her a nod of agreement, accepting his loss, "Indeed. Shall we get to work, then?"

"Yes," Cami replied quick and turned to walk off, Elijah moving right behind her.

~ 0 ~

"Nothing," Maleny snapped shut her mother's spellbook with a loud thud and rose from the couch, "We searched through the whole damn book and there's nothing!" she let the book drop to the cushion and walked in frustration towards the threshold.

Klaus reached for the book and opened it up again, skimming more pages, "Then we'll have to go through Esther's," he proposed but that only opened up a whole other mess with Maleny.

"Sure," she turned around, crossing her arms, "right after you take it back from Genevieve," she was still mighty irritated Esther's spellbook had been relinquished to the ginger witch after she'd saved Maleny.

"Mal, I understand you're frustrated but I could use a little less of it towards me," Klaus gave her a look and shut the book again.

"That's what you do all the time," Maleny accused and turned away, taking a breath to start calming down, "We need something else because simply looking for the spell isn't doing much."

"I agree," Klaus stood up and left the book on the couch, "Any suggestions?"

Maleny bit her lip as she began thinking, "Well..."

Klaus knew a plan had formed inside the brunette's mind and immediately pressed for the details, "What are you thinking of?"

Maleny turned around, "Before uncle Kieran died he gave me this key. I told him he should've given it to Cami but he said it was more adequate for me," she gestured to herself, "and then he added it was for 'my kind'."

"So this key has something to do with the witches," Klaus couldn't help but be irritated that he was just finding out about this, "Do you think they're...weapons? Or..."

"I don't know," Maleny shrugged, "but maybe we can find out today - if you're willing to lift my lockdown that is," she added innocently.

"Well," Klaus swayed his head in the manner that Maleny knew would soon be telling her 'no'.

"No, no, don't do the 'well' thing," she waved a hand to stop him, "Whenever you do the 'well' thing it always means 'no' for me. Now, I'm not gonna give you the key if I don't get to go," she warned.

"Alright," Klaus agreed rather easily, figuring he wouldn't be getting far without her assistance anyways, "But," he was quick to lay down the rules, "you stay within my eyesight and hearing at all times."

Maleny rolled her eyes but agreed with the terms, "Yeah, okay."

"Do you know where to start, then?"

"...no," she admitted and rubbed her neck, "Kieran didn't get to tell me what it opened exactly. And Cami doesn't know about any of this so let's not go asking her," she turned and left the living room, heading for her own room.

Klaus was right behind her, and asking the questions that Maleny preferred not to get into, "Why exactly doesn't she know about this key?"

"Um...because I thought it was best not to tell her right now?"

"And you think that'll end well?"

Maleny stopped beside her bedroom door and gave him a look, "Look, I don't know what this key will open. If it's dangerous I don't want her to get hurt. So, please, can it just stay between us until we see what's on the other side?"

"Yes," Klaus nodded and relieved Maleny from her fear. With a small smile, Maleny hurried into her room to retrieve the key for their task.

~ 0 ~

Riley was coming out of a cafe shop holding a drink in hand when he stopped by to chat with a young woman. Across the street, unbeknownst to him, were Elijah and Cami. The two were hidden by the passing people but had a perfect view of the young warlock.

"Okay, so maybe I was wrong about this theory," Cami admitted after a while. They had followed Riley for a good two hours and all the man had done was go into a library and then the shop.

"Patience is a virtue, Camille," Elijah reminded, earning a mock-glare from her. With the two hours passing he had enough time to really think about the idea of Riley being a secret enemy. It made a sense when one really looked into the matter. Riley had arrived a near month before the attacks had started against Maleny. Whenever the attacks occurred, he wasn't there.

"Yeah, or maybe I was wrong," Cami insisted, nervously looking at the warlock across the street.

"Or perhaps you wish it to be so, so that Maleny never has to find out about any of this," Elijah said rather smugly, having known that from the moment they started.

Cami swallowed hard, "Well, I'm not gonna lie and say that wouldn't be nice. Maleny really likes this guy and he's done nothing but help her and even me with our uncle."

"A patient enemy knows when to attack at the right moment," Elijah explained to the young psychology student, "A smart enemy gets close to their target, earns their trust and learns about them."

"She's going to be crushed if this is true," Cami sighed.

For a minute, Elijah looked away from Riley to see Cami, "Do you know if Maleny...has feelings for this man?" Cami's eyes snapped to his in an instant, "I don't intend on telling my brother," Elijah clarified, "I simply want to know where he stands with Maleny."

"Well, does Klaus still have feelings for her?" Cami countered with, unable to help smirk when Elijah remained quiet, "Why should I answer your question if you can't answer mine?"

Defeated, Elijah returned his focus to Riley, "Touche," he said in the end, surprising Cami and frankly himself. It wasn't often a human could outmatch him in words.

Riley had ended his conversation with the woman and moved down the block.

"He's moving, let's go," Elijah said and trailed after Riley with Cami alongside him.

~ 0 ~

Klaus led Maleny into the cemetery and strode down the row of graves. Maleny had the key stuffed in her bag in case Francesca Correa was still looking for it. She didn't want any of the goons of the woman to swipe it off her without knowing.

"You know something interesting about the O'Connell's?" Klaus asked and stopped in front of the O'Connells' tomb area.

"Um, they've surprisingly managed to procreate despite the fact they've lived among your kind?" Maleny looked at him with a teasing smile.

Klaus rolled his eyes at the comment and continued on like she hadn't even answered, "Cami's twin brother never had a proper funeral unlike the rest."

Maleny looked down, "I know, I remember that. They had him buried out with the criminals and the John Does of the city. Cami's parents wanted nothing to do with him anymore."

"Kieran was a smart man and if he wanted to hide something without ever having to worry about it being found out he had the perfect location," Klaus smirked as Maleny wondered just where the location was.

And then she got it.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, her mouth forming into an 'o'.

"There we go," Klaus took her by the arm and led her across the cemetery, coming to stand before Sean's grave.

"I feel bad about this..." Maleny remarked when Klaus acquired a sledgehammer on their way to the grave, "...disturbing the dead..."

"Well, the good thing about the dead is they don't tend to feel anything anymore," Klaus gave a shrug, "Especially when they're normal ole humans."

"I sure hope there's nothing dangerous behind the door because someone's gonna have to explain to Cami why her brother's grave had been broken into."

"I'll leave that to you, love," Klaus was quick to say.

"Oh, and what are you gonna do then?"

Klaus gestured to the sledgehammer he held, "I'm the muscle!" and with that he slammed the hammer to the grave.

In the end, they managed to retrieve a box from the grave. Klaus handed it over to Maleny who quickly tried using the key on it.

"There's nothing," Klaus frowned at the empty box after it was opened.

"Hold on," Maleny brushed some dust off the lid of the box, allowing them both to see a carved code, "I remember this. It's from my implanted memories."

"Can you read it?" Klaus curiously asked her, hoping their plan wasn't over already.

"Yeah, I think so," Maleny looked at the box more carefully, "Kieran taught it to Sean who then showed it to Cami who then...showed it to me. This was supposed to be opened by a true O'Connell," she sighed, "Instead an outsider - a witch with barely any magic - broke into a grave for it."

"Let's skip the whole ordeal of you feeling guilty, shall we?" Klaus took the box from her and took a look at the code himself.

"Sorry I feel guilty," Maleny crossed her arms.

"Sort of used to it, love. It's one of your traits that allowed me to see when you were lying to me," Klaus smirked at her which only made her roll her eyes.

"Well tough because I'm a far better liar now," Maleny snatched the box from him and stuck her tongue out, feeling much like a child but she didn't really care, "Now c'mon, we have somewhere else we need to go to."

~ 0 ~

The code in the box had been an address which led Maleny and Klaus to an apartment complex. Thankfully, the owner had been more than willing to show them to an apartment that apparently belonged to Kieran. After the owner left them to see the apartment, the two started looking around but were mostly disappointed.

"I think you can safely show this to Cami," Klaus shot Maleny a look from the kitchen, unimpressed with the destination of their travel.

Maleny refused to believe this was what Kieran wanted Cami to have had after his death. She sighed, "There has to be more to it."

Klaus continued to look but couldn't really see anything beyond a dusty old apartment, "Perhaps you read the code wrong," he then suggested.

"Word of advice, never tell me I got something wrong," Maleny sarcastically said and walked over to a closet, "I believe that's how you and I got into plenty of arguments in the past."

"That's also because half of the time you were wrong," Klaus reminded and turned to see her looking into the closet.

"And the other half I was right," Maleny didn't fail to point out then pretended to think, "Hm, you weren't the best of boyfriends sometimes."

"Mal," Klaus' voice took a sharp edge, "I hardly think this is the time to point out faults in our past relationships."

"They were your faults," Maleny said casually as she noticed a panel in the back wall of the closet, eyeing the bright yellow duct tape that marked an 'X' on it, "Your ideas weren't always good."

"Are you kidding me?" Klaus walked over, huffing at her accusation.

"Let's remember how our most recent date turned out, shall we?" Maleny teasingly looked back at him, "I was nearly murdered and your friend, Marcel, had other humans murdered that same night."

"Mal!"

"Oh hush," Maleny waved a hand at him then promptly pulled out the panel of the closet to reveal an entire hidden room on the other side, "...woah..." she breathed as she stepped inside.

The room was filled with all type of files, heirlooms and artifacts. Maleny and Klaus were in awe as they took in the entire room, both walking around to see what they could find.

"This is for Cami," Maleny came across a box with a sticky note bearing 'Cami'. She rummaged through the things and found they were some sort of witches objects.

"Dark objects," Klaus spoke up from across the room, making Maleny look up and see him holding shackles, "These are mostly witches' dark objects. How could I have not known about this room?"

"Maybe because they're not ours?" Maleny walked over and took the shackles from him, "These are for Cami and she'll definitely know about this room."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Klaus made a face, seeing all the potential of such objects going to waste with the human, "I can get some work done with these things," as he reached for the shackles Maleny put them behind her back.

"These are not ours to handle, Klaus," Maleny warned him, "And you are most certainly not gonna use any of these things for your fights."

Klaus rolled his eyes, "Leave it to you to suck out the fun in my plans," he walked past her and looked through the shelves.

Maleny set the shackles back on the shelf and turned after him, "Well someone's gotta restrain you sometimes," she moved onto some other objects, wondering if there truly could be anything to help her with her curse, "Plus, I don't want to explain to Cami why you suddenly have acquired her dark objects."

"You'll owe me for this," the hybrid declared, already wearing a smirk on his face as he debated just how that would happen.

Maleny scoffed at the idea and glanced at him, "You will drive me home, let me tell Cami about this room, and then get nothing," she teasingly smiled at him, "and you'll like it."

"We'll see," was the response she received before Klaus went into another aisle of shelves. Maleny shook her head and continued to look through her area of shelves.

~ 0 ~

Night was settling over the Quarter and with nothing to report of Riley, Cami had began to convince herself her theory of the warlock was completely wrong. Elijah had taken her all around the Quarter after Riley, apparently not giving up as easy as she had. At the current moment, Riley was picking up takeout from a Chinese restaurant and Elijah and Cami were waiting a mere two shops away.

"I was wrong, completely wrong," Cami was repeating to the Original while they waited for Riley to come out, "I'm sorry I wasted your day, Elijah. Let's just call it a night."

"I don't think so," Elijah stopped her from leaving by putting a hand on her arm, "I am not going to let this possible enemy slip away due to a mistake."

"But he hasn't done anything to prove me right," Cami frowned, wondering if she'd made a mistake sharing her discovery with him.

"Actually," Elijah looked at her with a small smile, "there's one thing that he did today that I'd like to know more about."

"What?"

"He went into an herbal shop today," Elijah looked back at the Chinese restaurant just as Riley was walking out.

"So? Lots of people do that," Cami was still confused on the relevancy of his answer, "I do that."

"Yes, but when you're a warlock you tend to look for specific herbs," Elijah tried to explain quickly as he pulled her into a walk after Riley, "And he bought several of them. Cami, we need to know what those herbs do."

"So what do you suggest, then?" Cami raised an eyebrow, "Steal them from him?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of 'sneak a peek'," Elijah flashed her smile and immediately Cami knew she would be involved in another plan of the Mikaelsons'. She only hoped Elijah's would be less violent.

~ 0 ~

Now angry with her luck, Maleny pushed a box away from her and it nearly fell to the floor if Klaus hadn't grabbed it. With a smirk, he placed it back on the table and gave her a sharp look.

"I know, I'm angry," Maleny muttered and turned away from the table, looking at the bookshelves instead, "But we have spent the whole afternoon here and there's nothing to help me."

"There's one box left," Klaus pointed to the box bearing Cami's name.

"I doubt a bunch of dark objects is gonna help me break the curse," Maleny crossed her arms, "This is so frustrating!" she exclaimed and turned back to the table only to kick one of its leg.

Klaus watched her hiss in pain from the kick, "Are you quite done?" he inquired, quite amused with her antics. It reminded him of his original Maleny. The blonde woman, while often mature, had her childish moments which always made him laugh. For a minute he could truly see her as the Maleny that had disappeared in the forest centuries ago.

Maleny stalked out of the secret room and went straight for her bag she'd left behind in the kitchen, "I'm done for today, I don't want anything to do with the stupid curse," she growled and snatched her purse off the table.

Klaus calmly walked out of the secret room and closed it all up, "Are you sure that's what you want?" he called to her as the woman now stood by the door waiting for him.

"I think so," Maleny answered sarcastically, "I feel like I want to throw things, burn things, and punch things. So yeah, I think I'm done for the day."

Klaus smiled to himself as he made sure the entrance to the secret room was concealed once more. As he did so, he could hear the things Maleny muttered under her breath. More than angry, he knew she was disappointed they hadn't made progress on her curse. He was upset too but he cared more for Maleny's feelings at the moment.

"Mal," he called to her and turned around, seeing the brunette still waiting for him, "do you mind if we take a detour before going home?" Maleny's eyebrows raised at the question, curious of what he now had in mind.

~ 0 ~

"Riley! Riley!" the young warlock heard his name being called. He turned around and saw Cami hurrying up to him, looking frantic for some reason.

"Cami," he abruptly stopped the blonde in front of him, making him stumble back a couple steps.

Cami shook his arm and accidentally made him drop a couple bags of his, "There's a little kid hurt down the block, you have to help me! I think he's a warlock or something."

Riley quickly looked down the street, searching for the boy, "Who is it?"

"I don't know, he doesn't speak English very well. He doesn't want to come with me," Cami started pulling him down the street, "C'mon!"

As the two left, Elijah emerged from the corner of the street and hurriedly picked up the bags left on the ground. He rummaged through them until he found the one containing the herbs Riley bought earlier. Elijah didn't know a lot about herbs but he had someone who could recognize them. In a quick speed, he headed for Genevieve's shop.

~ 0 ~

Out in the park Maleny glumly stared at a couple performers across her. She was waiting for Klaus to return with something he apparently needed to buy from a shop. He had wanted her to come with but she was in no mood to go anywhere else that wasn't home. So, Klaus resorted to her staying at the park - having a perfect hearing shot of her in case anything went wrong. As she waited, she took to watching the performers and its crowd. They were musicians with two of them dancing around.

She hugged herself and grew even more downhearted with her circumstances. If she couldn't break the curse she wouldn't ever get to fully live. She would never be able to do the simplest of things like ever figuring out if she had natural talents. Could she perhaps learn to play guitar? The violin? Or maybe dancing was a talent of hers. If she didn't break the curse, she wouldn't even be able to take up a career like Cami was doing. Maleny honestly didn't know what she would if she actually broke the curse but she wanted the options. But maybe that wasn't her fate at all. Maybe her fate was to jump bodies for the rest of time, getting killed or sacrificed each and every time. And...to never actually have a true lo -

"You know," Klaus' sudden appearance broke Maleny's thoughts, "in one of your past lives, you adored the piano," Maleny silently turned her head to him, awaiting for more details, "You loved that thing more than anything. And you were good. Exceptionally good too."

Maleny slowly looked back to the musicians, "I don't think I'll ever get to play again, then."

"You could always learn it again," Klaus shrugged, seeing no trouble in that.

"What for?" Maleny's voice took on a cold tone, "So that in a month I can forget it because I was sacrificed again? No thanks."

"Mal, I know you're feeling discouraged, but we will find a way to end this curse," Klaus turned to her, allowing Maleny to see he held a black bakery box in one hand, "I promise you that."

"I believe you'll do everything you can, but there's always a chance we'll fail," Maleny bit her lip, "Just like the many, many times I've failed in the past."

"But there's a difference between then and now..."

"What is it?"

"You're not alone this time," Klaus declared, "You've got me, you've got Elijah, you've got Cami and Hayley - even a witch who hates anything to do with us."

Maleny smiled and considered his words, "That is a big difference..." she agreed in the end, "What'd you buy?" she pointed to the box.

"I hope you still like berries," Klaus handed her the black box.

"I love berries," Maleny assured and opened the box to find a small, rounded, berry-cheesecake inside, "Ooh, and I love them most when they're in pies," she looked up with a big smile on her face, "Is this for me...?"

The doubt in her face made Klaus chuckle, "No, I decided to buy it for myself and show it off to you," Maleny mockingly-glared at his sarcastic response. Klaus laughed again and finally spoke normally, "I figured it would perhaps make this day slightly less bad."

"Look at you," Maleny began, traces of sarcasm lacing her tone, "Klaus Mikaelson, big bad hybrid who everyone fears... buying me pie?" she chuckled to herself.

"Well," Klaus stepped closer to her, satisfied to hear her heart take quicker beats, "To you I was never all that. I wasn't a title holder. I was simply Klaus...and he loved you very much."

Maleny awkwardly coughed then, her cheeks sporting a bright pink tint, "And, um...how's that, um...how exactly does that go now?" her eyes slowly raised to meet his, "I mean...do you still...feel anything?"

"That depends," Klaus perfectly evaded the question, a bit out of his comfort zone as well.

"On what?" Maleny whispered, doing her best not to seem so anxious of his answer.

"If my answer would make any difference in your life..."

"Oh," Maleny stayed quiet a minute, wondering how the hell things had gone from gloomy to awkward and nervousness in less than two minutes.

Klaus could see her face contorting to confusion and decided to keep pressing for a better, clearer answer than the one she would probably come up with, "Can I ask you a question, Mal?"

"Sure..." the brunette weakly said.

"That Riley guy...is there actually something going on with you two?"

"I don't...think you need to know about that," Maleny quietly said, "But I know you and I know if I don't answer then you'll start thinking what's not. Riley is a great guy, and any woman would love to go out with him...except for me," and when she saw the small glimpse of relief in Klaus' eyes she couldn't help smile a little, "He's just a friend. And he's gonna stay a friend. But now it's my turn to ask invading questions," she took on a smirk, "You and Genevieve...did you start that because of what happened with us before Rebekah left? Or did you actually like her?"

Klaus gave her a smile and walked past her, "We should get going."

Maleny playfully rolled her eyes and called him back to her, "Oh no, Klaus, you have to answer me right now," she turned to face him, only he had his back to her, still refusing to answer. With determination, and admittedly curiosity, she walked up to him, turning him by the arm, "Was that serious? Or was it because we fought before that?"

Klaus resigned to tell her the truth, knowing she'd get a kick out of it in the end, "She's a very attractive woman..."

"Oh, we're off to a good start," Maleny rolled her eyes.

"Mal, you know I'm impulsive..."

"Mhm," Maleny gladly agreed with him, much to his irritation. She wasn't making it easy on him, "Kinda picked up on that when we were kids."

"I don't care about her," he spoke honestly, "Never did. She's attractive, but...nothing. There was nothing and there never will be."

"And now? What do you intend to do now?" she motioned to the bakery box she held, "Buying me my favorite dessert? Telling me these pretty things?"

"I would be lying if I said it wouldn't be interesting to see what could happen with us," Klaus surprisingly admitted to her with ease. He once again stepped closer to her, "But right now I only want to see you happy. And if me telling you these 'pretty things' makes you feel anything unhappy then I will stop. Would you like me to stop?"

Maleny opened her mouth but found she didn't know what she wanted then. She looked down, "I..." she began, hoping to know there and then but it seemed she was conflicted, "...I wish to go home right now," she finished with instead.

While it wasn't exactly what Klaus wanted to hear, he didn't go against her wish, "Let's go, then," he turned to the side and gestured for her to start walking. Maleny thanked for his understanding and walked off with him.

~ 0 ~

Upon arriving at the compound, Maleny and Klaus came to find Hayley tending to Davina in the courtyard. The teen seemed a bit irritated to find the two were together - and according to Hayley, they'd been together for most of the day.

"Davina, what are you doing here?" Maleny asked, slightly confused with her presence.

"Where the hell have you two been?" Hayley almost demanded from the two. If neither Maleny nor Klaus knew Hayley well enough to see her last trimester pregnancy hormornes kicking up, they would be irritated for her rudeness.

"We were looking for more things for the curse," Klaus answered her.

"Together?" Davina frowned, "Why?"

"Because that's how teamwork works?"

"Funny, I didn't know you actually knew what that word meant," Davina crossed her arms.

Maleny didn't want to have to break up any arguments between her and Klaus, "Davina, did you need something?"

Davina looked at her with much softer eyes, "I haven't heard from you in a while and I got worried."

Maleny smiled, "I'm fine. Thank you for stopping by but actually, I am kinda in the need for a trusted witch to help me look over my mother's spellbook. You think you can do that with me right now?"

"Yeah, I told you I would," Davina beamed at the opportunity, "C'mon," she sent Klaus a glare, "But alone."

"My spell book's in the upstairs living room," Maleny pointed and so Davina started to walk off for the staircase. Maleny turned to Klaus afterwards, "Thanks for today. But I think Hayley needs you right now."

"No I don't," Hayley defensively said, crossing her arms.

"You're moody," Maleny pointed at her, "and so is he," she pointed to Klaus next, "I think you can help each other."

"Mal, have I told you your sarcasm is completely annoying?"

"I don't ever want to be pregnant," Maleny made a face and started for the stairs, chuckling as she heard Hayley begin to complain to Klaus about how bad she felt with herself.

~ 0 ~

Cami impatiently waited in her house for Elijah to at least call and tell her what those herbs in Riley's bag had been. After tricking Riley into going with her to help a boy who didn't even exist, Cami had gone for her house as had been the instructions the Original gave her. He was going to bring the herbs to Genevieve and get an identification on the herbs to see if they were malignant. That had been over an hour ago and now Cami was plain frustrated.

Eventually, someone knocked on her door and she dashed to go answer it. She opened it up and was relieved to see Elijah standing on the other side, "You took forever," she accused.

"It's only been an hour and half," Elijah countered, disregarding her irritation, "May I?" he gestured to her home. He hadn't ever been to her house and so needed her invitation.

"Yeah," Cami nodded and stepped side, "Come in."

"Thank you," Elijah stepped inside with the herbs bundled up in a cloth given by Genevieve, "We'll need a better plan to capture Riley."

"Wh-what?" Cami blinked as she closed her door, "What do you mean? What were the herbs?"

Elijah turned around waving the bundle of green leaves, "These are meant for knocking someone out for a good hour or so. Riley bought these with an intention on using it on someone."

"Are you sure Genevieve didn't lie to you?" Cami took the herbs from him and gave it a light sniff.

"She's the one that told you this in the first place, plus she did save Maleny recently."

"That doesn't mean she's seeking redemption..."

"Camille you came to me for a reason," Elijah's voice now had a sharpness that expressed the grave situation they were in, "And that was to see if you were right or not. Surprise, you were right. It's time to accept it and find a solution."

Cami knew he was right, but it wasn't easy to accept a person that had helped with her uncle's passing was actually evil. She handed Elijah back the herbs, "So, what do we do?"

"I agree if we tell Klaus he will probably kill Riley and that is something we don't want - for the moment."

"Then what are we supposed to do?"

"We take care of it on our own," Elijah resolved, "Do you think you can keep this from Maleny?"

Cami nodded quickly, "Yes, if it'll help her then yeah," she only wished this would lead to Maleny's salvation. If they caught the enemy before he tried attacking...that would have to save Maleny, right?

~ 0 ~

As Maleny and Davina overlooked Maleny's spell book, Davina kept glancing at the brunette woman who often took bites of her berry pie.

"So, this whole teamwork thing between you and Klaus, does that include having dinner together?" Davina finally decided to address her big issue, "...and dessert?"

Maleny set down her fork into her box and studied the teen beside her, "I know you don't agree with my past-"

"It's not just about your past, it's what's happening now," Davina sighed, "Mal, I love you, and I don't think that this place," her eyes looked around the quiet room, "is the place you should be at."

"I feel pretty safe here," Maleny shrugged, "I don't see anywhere else I want to be at."

"Do you think there's a chance that your memories resurfacing have maybe...manipulated your feelings?"

Maleny frowned at the bluntness of the question, "What? Wh-what's the relevancy in this?"

"I'm saying that maybe you remembering your past lives are making you feel things that aren't real anymore."

"And just what are these 'feelings'," Maleny raised her fingers to create air quotation marks, "You're talking about, hm?"

"I'm talking about the feelings you used to have for Klaus," Davina made sure to enunciate the past tense clear for Maleny, "Your head is mixed up and what you think you feel may not be true!"

Maleny blinked with wide eyes, stunned by what she was hearing. She would've snapped but Davina seemed honestly frustrated and concerned, "Davina, calm down," Maleny set her hands on the girl's shoulders.

"I can't calm down!" Davina shook her head, "Because you're putting yourself in danger! You can't love Klaus, you just can't! Stop spending time with him, stop letting him take you out, just stop before you get yourself killed!"

"I'm not gonna die because I fell in love," Maleny scoffed at the idea, "And for your information I don't even know what I feel for Klaus right now. So please, calm down."

But it wasn't enough for Davina to feel better. She was terrified for her friend's life, "Mal, get out of this place, please."

"No, Davina, I won't."

"You're going to do exactly what your past yous have - you're going to start something with Klaus and then you're going to die again."

"I'm not," Maleny insisted, "Because nothing is happening right now. I'm focused on my curse and breaking it."

"Look me in the eye right now and tell me you wouldn't even consider starting a relationship with him again," Davina challenged, crossing her arms as she waited for Maleny to prove her right.

Maleny shifted awkwardly on her spot, looking to the side, "I...I don't know..."

"See," Davina gestured and stood up, "You can't do it. You can't stay away from him."

"Well maybe I don't want to," Maleny blurted out, not about to feel ashamed for something that wasn't wrong. She faced Davina and stood up, "Maybe I'm curious to see where it would lead to between us...if things would be...interesting or something."

"Maleny..." Davina shook her head.

Maleny straightened up and gave her final word on the subject, "I honestly don't know what's going to happen between me and Klaus, but if something does happen and it makes me happy...then I will let it happen and no one - not even you - will make me choose otherwise."

Davina deeply sighed and hugged her friend, "I just don't want you to get hurt, Mal. You're my friend, I want you to be okay and with...someone that isn't already dead."

Maleny smiled, knowing that Davina was only trying to look out for her, "I'm okay, Davina. I know Klaus, alright? He wouldn't ever hurt me."

But Davina wasn't so sure about that. Every time Klaus was involved with something or someone, they ended up hurt...or dead. Davina didn't want to see that happen to someone as sweet as Maleny.

#klaus mikaelson x oc #ocappreciation #ocapp #the originals imagines #klaus mikaelson imagines #the originals fanfics #klaus mikaelson x original female character #oc: Maleny Rowan #noblecrescentedit #fic: the girl in the forest

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umbralich · 5 years

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Never ending survey

RULES: Repost, do not reblog. Tag 10 blogs!

Tagged by: @lareine-kira and @paleshadeofrose

Tagging: @hangedemperor , @istolin , @maximiloix , @trahja-tia , @eorzeasfrozenknight , @charm-in-spades , @thorcatte , @haila-wetyios , @a-sharlayan-abroad

---

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Varg Blacksoul, formerly Timur Oronir NICKNAME: Varg-Varg (given by Lareine), Stiffy and Grumpy (given by Silke) AGE: 54 BIRTHDAY: 9th sun of the 1st astral moon ETHNIC GROUP: Xaela Au Ra NATIONALITY: Othard, Ishgard LANGUAGE/S: Common, xaelic, ishgardian SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single and not looking for company. HOME TOWN / AREA: Dawn Throne, Azim Steppe CURRENT HOME: Pillars, Ishgard PROFESSION: Paladin, medic/healer at Ishgard’s service.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Long and silvery grey. EYES: Black with white limbal rings, small irises. FACE: Angular features, long nose, high cheekbones. LIPS: Narrow, often cracked, slightly darker than his usual skin color. COMPLEXION: Grayish purple BLEMISHES: Dark circles SCARS: Lots of scars which he keeps hidden at all times. Two thick, long ones are visible and almost go across his right eye. TATTOOS: No tattoos. HEIGHT: 210cm WEIGHT: Slightly underweight BUILD: Slender but masculine, somewhat toned. FEATURES: Black markings around eyes, and naturally thick, black claws. ALLERGIES: None USUAL HAIR STYLE: At work or formal meetings it’s combed back either completely or with some locks on his temples left loose. In more casual situations he mostly just lets it be. USUAL FACE LOOK: Calm, focused, narrowed eyes. USUAL CLOTHING: Full, dignified heavy armor or parts of it combined with a long coat, formal robes, jodhpurs, vests, blouses and high-heeled boots.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR/S: Imprisonment, being held or tied down, physical pain, betrayal. ASPIRATION/S: To be successful, self-sufficient and powerful until the end, to bring as many as possible wrongdoers to justice, to find an heir, and catch people still on the loose who managed to escape his revenge long ago.

POSITIVE TRAITS: He keeps his word, doesn’t leave things unfinished, is a good motivator for slackers, aims for high-quality results in everything, is reasonable and logical.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Insensible towards most of people, logic always comes before his own or other people’s feelings, very straightforward, capable of cruelty if necessary.

TEMPERAMENT: Calm SOUL TYPE/S: Thinker ANIMALS: Gray wolf

VICE HABIT/S: Smoking. He hates it, but it’s the least harmful thing that calms his nerves down, and he’s addicted. He tries to limit it though, and use it only in worst occasions, since he doesn’t want the side effects affecting his health or work. If things get especially grim, he also has full stashes of potent liquor and intravenous sedatives.

FAITH: Science usually comes first, but he’s also spiritual in some way. It’s one of those topics he doesn’t discuss with anyone. Some of his duties include working as a cleric, so it may have something to do with Halone. Or then it doesn’t, and it’s just another job.

GHOSTS?: Has seen them with his own eyes so can’t deny their existence. AFTERLIFE?: He hopes it exists, for reasons. REINCARNATION?: It’s a possibility.

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Generally neutral, but on demand would choose the side of underdogs: ignoble, the poor and the sick, minors etc. Wouldn’t show his alignment publicly if it was a threat to himself. Would also pretend to be supporting the oppressor, only trying to sabotage their work at every opportunity. Even I’m not sure would he actually die for anyone else or some common cause. He has fled once to save his own hide and he could do it again. Knows main points of what’s going on and where around the world for the sake of common knowledge, but is only interested in topics that concern himself. Has been a target for racists since arriving to Ishgard as a teenager, so he despises them from the bottom of his heart.

EDUCATION LEVEL: Learned

FAMILY.

FATHER : Not relevant MOTHER : Not relevant SIBLINGS : None that he knows of EXTENDED FAMILY: Iris Ymir (patient and protege) and Arsene Dreadeois (butler)

NAME MEANING/S:

Timur is a Turkic and Mongolic name which literally means iron. In Indonesian, timur translates to east and symbolizes hope by the rising sun.

All members of the Oronir tribe believe themselves to be direct descendants of Azim, the tribe's god of the sun.

Varg is wolf in swedish. Varg was also originally a nickname given by his friends at the Steppe. It was the only thing he kept after starting his new life in Ishgard and severing his ties with his homeland.

Blacksoul was given by his comrades in the army for being so ruthless towards enemies - both the ones on the battlefield and the ones captured.

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: None

FAVORITES.

BOOK: Science, mythology, swordplay, alchemy, etc. Everything that has something to do with his work or hobbies. DEITY: Halone seems to share most of his values. HOLIDAY: Doesn’t celebrate any. MONTH: September and October. There isn’t many little things in life he gets pleasure from, but fall colors is one of them. SEASON: Fall and winter. PLACE: His estate, cathedrals, libraries and forges. WEATHER: Thick fog, rain and sunshine at the same time. SOUND/S: Fire, rain and musical instruments when someone who actually knows what they’re doing plays them. SCENT/S: Herbs, iron, parchment. TASTE/S: Whisky, tea, whatever Arsene makes. FEEL/S: Clean clothes, heat radiating from a fireplace. ANIMAL/S: Doesn’t like animals except for his chocobo, Mori. NUMBER: Doesn’t care about numbers. COLORS: White, black, blood red, gold, silver.

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Accuracy of a chirurgeon, skillful with swords, managing to define a goal fast in any kind of surprising situation and being very patient and stubborn at achieving it. BAD AT: Admitting he has weaknesses, comforting people, having fun, small talk, relaxing. HOBBIES: Reading, studying, weapon maintenance, alchemy. TROPES: Antihero, tragic hero and mad scientist. Definitely could also be a villain. Depends on whom you ask.

QUOTES:

“Since you seem to be so worried of my… customers, perhaps I should take you along the next time I interrogate them. You would see with your own eyes what kind of delicate, exquisite and misunderstood individuals they are, when they spit on you, mock their victims and brag about the amount of people they have raped or murdered.”

“Today it happens. Make sure she is out of here before I return tonight. I am no longer even sure which one of them is the worse one.”

“It was a mere procedure. If procedures were considered intimate, I would be close friends with half of Ishgard by now.”

“Do tell me... If you work as much as you claim, how come you are always broke when we meet?”

“Very well. Play something for me. Let us see are you a man of your word.”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?

A1 : He’s been busy sticking his spoon into so many soups during his life that you could probably make a trilogy of his fooleries feats. The first part would tell about his early life in Azim Steppe and how he was forced to leave from there, the second part about how he found his soulmate and adapted to his new life in Ishgard, and how it all eventually ended up into a shitstorm, and the third one would be the current storyline. No clue about the name, though. The Soulforge would be perfect but too bad it’s taken.

Q2 : What would their soundtrack/score sound like?

A2 : Bloodborne, Dark Souls and Amnesia the Dark Descent OSTs are absolutely the closest ones you could get to Varg. Orchestral, choir, bowed string instruments, both epic and monstrous. Even if there were more peaceful pieces here and there, while listening to them you’d still have that same feeling of dread you used to have while playing the original Resident Evil and Silent Hill games and finding a safe room: you just barely escaped death but can’t stay in the safe haven forever.

Q3 : Why did you start writing this character?

A3 : He’s quite different compared to my Forsaken shadow priestess in WoW, whom I used to RP for... two or three years? Long story short: I wanted something else for a change. I also used to have an old Forsaken death knight, who was a lot more similar to Varg, but he was more evil. He existed pretty much only for occasions when someone needed a true villain for some plot. He was funny however and I always thought it was a pity I didn’t get chances to RP him more often.

Q4 : What first attracted you to this character?

A4 : He’s a mixture of four different OCs of mine, with a bit of his original spice ofc. One of them came into being in, uh, somewhat obscure conditions. Kept seeing him in my dreams when I was a kid, and he became one of my imaginary friends I used to have back then. And not just one of the many, but the closest one. Also generally in entertainment I couldn’t care less about Lukes and Frodos. Villains, tragic heroes and the like are my thing. They’re usually the most multilayered and interesting characters.

Q5 : Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 : Perfectionism. I’m similar and it sometimes drives me nuts to watch him neglecting himself while trying to achieve perfection. If I could physically talk to him I would go and slap him and be like “EAT. SLEEP. YES THE THING IS GOOD ENOUGH ALREADY. LEAVE IT.”

Q6 : What do you have in common with your muse?

A6 : Well, already kind of answered this one, but wait, there’s more: insomnia, nightmares, PTSD, misanthropy and cynicism come to mind first. And booze. How could I almost forget booze? I believe I know what misery is so I’m good at RPing miserable characters and make them look as authentic as possible. *lols like Alcyone from Magic Knight Rayearth* We both also have a strong sense of justice and nonexistent sympathy for those who use others as stepping stones. Aye I know, sounds a lot like a self-insert character, but it’s not like that. It’s more like... before meeting him/the OCs he’s based on, I used to be quite a scentless and tasteless kid. Similarities and peer support attract. And I’ve also learned from him.

It’s also a lot like me and Lareine. We became friends because we had 95% of the same interests and problems but perhaps that’s why we get along so well and understand each other.

Q7 : How does your muse feel about you?

A7 : He would probably hate and like me at the same time. Or couldn’t decide. We both like peace and quiet, doing our job well is fundamental and our basic values are pretty much the same. We would get along well if we worked in the same place. However, unlike him, I have some horrid procrastination seasons, crippling self-esteem issues, tend to put other people’s needs and opinions above my own and keep stressing about things for 7 billion souls instead of just myself. I’m suspicious of pretty much everything else except Lareine and our plushie crow Agatha, except that Agatha creeps me out sometimes as well when she takes out a knife and sits next to my bed at night, staring at me, can’t watch Hachiko without bawling my eyes out during the entire movie, love puppies and kittens and danger noodles and I’m addicted to video games. Very likely he’d kick me out as well.

Q8 : What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?

A8 : Varg would never admit it to himself, but I think he gets best along with people who are a bit silly in some way, and who get on his nerves by being too carefree and doing stupid things. Lareine and Iris, when they’re behaving. Arsene, who’s kind at everyone. Currently Shaura is my favorite. Varg himself is so uptight people like them help breaking his gray routines. Also a bonus: he doesn’t see them as a threat, so that’s probably the closest he’s able to get to relaxing among other people.

Q9 : What gives you inspiration to write your muse?

A9 : I’m a fan of my own characters. It doesn’t feel like I would’ve created them. I saw them with my third eye or something and I’ve just written for others to read what I’ve seen. I don’t plan RPs beforehand. I just let the hound loose and let him do whatever he wants. So far I haven’t got tired of my characters’ antics and could just write more. The only obstacles are limited hours per day, necessary evils like eating and sleeping, procrastination, trying to sort out my life, and the damn FFXIV. SOMEONE PLEASE TAKE IT OUT OF MY HANDS.

Q10 : How long did this take you to complete?

A10 : Ehh, maybe 4-5 hours.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #character info #au ra #never ending survey

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annerly-san · 5 years

Text

Whiskey & Abandonment

Self-ask “Short Story” Request: What is / How would Whiskey react to being left alone by his Master Attendant? (Inspired from his line: "No matter what happens, I'll always be by your side. So.......do you understand? You can't leave this place Master Attendant. You. Can't. Leave. Me.")

“Master Attendant?”

Whiskey knew that something was awry when he didn’t awaken to the smell of charred eggs and the frantic screaming of a panicked chef.

His attendant was not in their bedroom.

It was strange considering that there was no indication that they had begun their cooking misadventures yet. Perhaps they had just started a late morning and was now beginning to haphazardly experiment with new dishes in the kitchen.

Yet they weren’t there either.

There was nothing aside from Ume and Pancake occupied with cooking heaps of fruit tea and cappuccino.

Perhaps they were in the restaurant’s dining area.

The restaurant, opened and filled with customers, was devoid of his attendant.

Everyone was in the house occupied with some task. His attendant would typically take someone to go do grocery rounds with them as to not break their arms carrying heaps of ingredients on their own. It was a strange thing, but Whiskey considered the prospect of them running out to market to explore new findings and not bother someone to tag along.

As such, he went out to check the marketplace next.

He went to inquire, but to no avail. None of the stall managers saw a glimpse of them.

A delivery?

Whiskey checked the garage to see all three bikes lined up there unused.

He went to check their bedroom again.

Admittedly, he began to get a little flustered in his search expanded to more bizarre places.

He peeked into their closet to find that they were not there. He wanted to check just in case they decided to reorganize their closet or something like that.

His sense of propriety abandoned him at some point, as he proceeded to open every single door to every single room in the house, leaving none untouched.

Had he not been so occupied with his sole intent on finding his attendant, he would have spent some time musing on how this was the first time he broke into Pizza’s room and did not kidnap said food soul for the purpose of experimentation. He was occupied with more pressing matters, after all.

The bathrooms were not left unchecked. Whiskey in due diligence, wanted every single spot covered and the motion of knocking and inquiring instead of breaking down the entire door had forsaken him. Likewise, had he not been so occupied with trying to find his attendant, he would have left a nice comment on the abilities of Cassata’s vocal range-- his voice went up at least an octave when Whiskey broke down the stall door to reveal the food soul in the middle of doing his business.

Whiskey looked under beds, in bookshelves, cabinets, clothing racks, the oven, and literally any possible place that they could potentially be despite how illogical that they would be there.

“Are you looking for something?”

Whiskey didn’t even hear the cross voice ask him the question at first. He was far too busy looking between the forks of the silverware drawer.

“Whiskey.”

It wasn’t until he felt a hand grab at his shoulder

“Master Attendant-?!”

Whiskey turned around eagerly with a wide smile and bright eyes.

His smile and happier expression dropped completely off of his face at the sight of a concerned Brownie and a cross Black Tea.

Whiskey saw the sudden reluctance, fear even, that ran across their face when he turned around in their direction.

He had forgotten to smile.

Too caught up in his own mental expectations to see his attendant upon turning around, the sheer disappointment of seeing otherwise made him completely drop out of his character.

He hoped that it wasn’t too late to make a recovery from such an error and gave them a very conscious effort at a smile.

If possible, that only made things worse.

“W-were you looking for something?” Brownie was the first to make an inquiry.

“I am. Why-?” He quickly realized the reasoning for the question once he caught a glimpse of the house in complete disarray. “Ah. My bad.”

Receiving looks of disappointment was not something new for Whiskey, but it was a different sensation coming from these two food souls in which he had barely interacted with before.

“My most sincere apologies. I shall clean it up as soon as I am finished, worry not.” Whiskey proceeded to continue looking through the drawer.

“What is your objective, might I ask?” Black Tea inquired quaintly.

“Our Master Attendant. Have you seen them? I can’t seem to find them anywhere.”

“W-what?” the two food souls stammered their surprise, but gave him no answer as they stared at him in a combination of shock and horror.

“Pray tell, how can you possibly find our attendant in the silverware drawer? Have you lost your mind, Whiskey?”

While Brownie and Black Tea held no answers for him, he was certain that the newcomer to the conversation would give him some lead on his objective.

“Hello there, Spaghetti.” Whiskey dropped the last knife back into the drawer and slid it shut before turning himself about and meeting eyes with Spaghetti with a smile on his face. “I haven’t been able to find our Master Attendant anywhere today. Admittedly, I got a little frantic. Have you any clue?”

“You haven’t heard?” The food soul raised an eyebrow. “Ah, but then again I could see how you’ve missed it if they forgot to tell you and everyone assumed that you knew.” Spaghetti glanced around at the disarray of the kitchen. “Our attendant is in Nevras as part of a long-term culinary course.”

Whiskey adjusted his glasses and returned the answer with a quaint a smile. “You have my gratitude. I shall be going to Nevras then-”

“You can’t.”

Whiskey stopped in his tracks and sent a glance in Spaghetti’s direction. “Oh? And why not?” The day’s events and the news of his attendant’s absence had taken a toll on him mentally. Any facade that he would typically put up in an attempt to appear amicable to others was completely nonexistent at this point.

“What’s gotten into you?” Spaghetti didn’t overlook the disparity in Whiskey’s tone. “They’re boarding there for six months with other attendants. Food souls are not permitted to be there with them.”

“I told them that I would always be by their side no matter what happens. They. Can’t. Leave. Me.” The last few words came out with heavy emphasis. Whiskey fiddled with his glove in irritation.

“Our attendant had been specifically told that they couldn’t bring us along.” Spaghetti gave a smirk as he lifted his giant fork from his shoulder and pointed it directly at Whiskey. “What makes you think that a commoner like you can go?”

“Hehe~... You think that you can stop me?” Whiskey lifted a lazy hand as spires of sparkling gold and shining crimson shone about his arm. He wasn’t expecting to ever have a physical confrontation with Spaghetti as there was rarely anything to disagree upon, but the moment that they were finally at odds was something exhilarating to him. “Let this... mere pawn show you how powerful a single chess piece can be when played right.”

Had he not been so occupied with his conversation with Spaghetti, he would have noticed Brownie and Black Tea disappearing to gather support.

Whiskey should have been more quick to take down Spaghetti before the other food souls arrived for support.

His magic abilities and ranged magic made him a difficult foe to get into a confrontation with; however, he was not as adept at physical combat as the other food souls.

He recalled seeing a fiery foot of scarlet flames aimed at his face and a “sorry!” from Mapo Tofu before he awoke a couple days later in the ice arena still moderately bruised up.

At the very least it was a couple of days where he did not have to agonize over being apart from his attendant. It was something that he wished he could have experienced for a longer duration upon his rediscovery how truly painful it was for him to not be at their side.

“Day… Ten…”

Whiskey was carving out the third tally into the wall of his room. Thankfully there was a nice painting in the room that could cover up the tally marks when he was done.

Was it only the tenth day?

Whiskey ran his fingers over the nine tally marks that he had carved out yesterday and the day before to make up for the days that he was unconscious. There was no way that only ten days had passed since he last saw his attendant. While he was only awake for two, it truly felt like an eternity had befell upon him.

Did his attendant forgot that they couldn’t leave him like this? He explicitly told them upon their pledge. It was called a Lifelong Pledge for good reason. He was meant to be by their side no matter what. As such, he should be there with them now.

Ah, he missed their cooking already. It was so bad when they first started. The braised lamb dish was more chunks of charcoal and it truly did resemble comical dark cuisines. It was now one of the dishes that they specialized in; it was a rank of the “A” caliber due to his attendant’s continual cooking of the dish and mass feeding it to him until they randomly popped the question at around the hundredth dish.

Whiskey scoffed at the concept of a lifelong pledge; he was happy to have signed it nevertheless, but he didn’t understand the concept.

After all, their bond was beyond the time of a single lifetime.

Even when he had met and lost them the first time, the days didn’t seem to be this long. He wouldn’t dare make say that they weren’t long, but it didn’t even feel this long-- and it was only ten days that had passed instead of several decades. Was it perhaps that he finally was able to meet them the second time as his attendant that it all seems the more excruciating when they leave?

He must have not been paying attention to his tally mark since he tore a giant hole through the room and was hearing Yellow Wine scream bloody murder at a knife in the wall. He’ll patch it up later.

Regardless of how long he could occupy himself with making tally marks in the wall, there was actually nothing to satiate him. Nothing to distract him from his depression.

He had gone through all of his notes and books at least thirty times by now, and could recite ten theories on resurrecting the dead in his sleep. Whiskey could pretty much recite all of his literary possessions by memory as well as read upside down text, reflected text and text blurred beyond comprehension by the damage of tears, blood and ink.

He mused and lamented over the lack of new material to occupy his mind with when he suddenly came to a realization of oversight that made him wallow in self-embarrassment Their house has a library.

Whiskey might as well color his hair blonde, act happy-go-lucky and carry a flag around; that was the extent of idiocy he felt.

Whiskey opened the doors to the library and found Milk Tea silently reading there. She gave him a quaint smile and a gentle wave of her hand; he returned the greeting and made his way around the innumerable bookshelves.

He wandered through the sections detailing science and alchemy to find himself already have read most if not all of them; he laughed to himself upon seeing a couple of books in which he authored himself under an alias.

The books on psychology and sociology intrigued him greatly as he stowed away a few notes on the psychology of sociopaths and psychopaths and the means of manipulating the masses. Murder mysteries, fictional and non-fictional, amused him greatly.

Before long, he already found himself having read most if not all the books in the library despite his lack of interest in them. Unfortunately, the tally marks behind the painting in his room had only incremented by few.

He stared dejectedly over the final bookcase left in the library which he had not touched or looked at yet. He glanced over the titles printed on the spines of the books before coming to stop at one particular section of books. The print he would recognize anywhere; it was the handwriting of his attendant.

The oak shelf harbored at least a dozen of handcrafted covers and books of his attendant’s writing-- cooking recipes, delusional musings, interesting stories about pairing food souls together in a more than friendly relationship, and so much more.

Whiskey was unaware of how long he had spent in the library reading through their work.

Nor was he aware of the dull headache that was lingering in his skull.

Was the headache due to the interesting story of him and Spaghetti trying to revive Spaghetti’s “limp noodle” after that fine al dente was all but lost in a horrible overcooking incident? Or was the headache due to his unconscious slamming of his own head against the wall as the sight of his attendant’s writing was enough of a reminder to pull him into a state of insane grieving once more?

Whiskey must have not been paying attention, but Milk Tea came over to him and placed a gentle hand before he could make any further attempt to maim himself.

“Ah, I apologize. Was I bothering your reading?” Whiskey glanced over at Milk Tea before shutting teh

“You shouldn’t do that, Whiskey. They’ll come back soon, don’t worry.” Milk Tea gently cast her healing on him. The battered and bleeding skin pieced itself back together as the purple and red splotches began to disappear.

How Milk Tea knew the cause of his outburst was beyond him. The food soul had

“It’s too bad that you can’t heal his craziness.” a voice scoffed. Whiskey didn’t realize that there was another in the room. He recognized the tone of voice and a glimpse to the side revealed his suspicions.

“Hello there, Boston Lobster.” Whiskey stood up straight as he gave a gentle smile for Milk Tea. “Thank you.” Despite wishing to be polite in Milk Tea’s presence out of respect and gratitude for her, he was finding himself at a lower tolerance for the hot-blooded food soul in the room with them.

“I heard you were crazy, but I didn’t expect...” Boston Lobster gestured a waving motion as he scrutinized Whiskey in mild disgust. “... didn’t expect this crazy…”

“Surely you must feel some amount of misery at our attendant’s absence.” Whiskey was unable to find out why he bothered to reason with the unreasonable food soul he had the displeasure of holding a conversation with at the moment.

“They’re only gone to improve upon their cooking skills. It could always use some improvement.” Boston Lobster scoffed. Whether that tone of voice and language was part of the food soul’s personality or part of the critique of his attendant’s cooking skills, it was unknown. What was known was that Whiskey was beyond irked at the moment.

That sentence had a strange correlation with his attendant’s departure to the Nevras academy.

Whiskey, typically the one to not draw causation between loosely related strings of correlation, immediately drew the correlation between Boston Lobster’s words and his attendant’s departure from him.

“Hehe…” His laugh was admittedly more revealing of his more psychotic nature than he would typically allow for. But at this point, the triviality of having filters was quite irrelevant-- especially to someone who was soon to be dead. Whiskey slid his jacket off of his shoulders and placed it on a nearby chair; he made a mental note to apologize to Milk Tea later for destroying the library and for staining the books with blood. “So it was you…”

“What?” Boston Lobster had a look that was a cross of confusion and annoyance.

“Our attendant’s cooking has been fine. No…My attendant’s cooking…” he corrected. Whiskey’s smile vanished completely from his face. “Why would they have any need to improve on their cooking when it was completely fine as it was?”

Magic of a deep red began to appear and float about Whiskey as golden runs rose from the black circles of incantations printed out on the ground beneath his feet.

“Oho, I’ve been wanting to fight you one on one.” Boston Lobster chuckled as he took a more aggressive stance in preparation for Whiskey’s attack. “Bring it on, you psychopathic bastard!”

Whiskey and Boston fared off for a good exchange with Whiskey able to land a few blows on Boston with a good amount of damage being dealt to himself. He made certain this time that no one would come to interject his intent to slaughter the food soul before him.

“IF I REMEMBER-” Boston Lobster dodged the spire of pure red magic exploding in front of him. “YOU WERE THE ONE THAT MADE THE COMMENT ON EXPECTING OUR ATTENDANT’S FOOD TO LOOK LIKE DARK CUISINE-!”

That comment had brought around a rather interesting revelation.

Whiskey ceased attack completely as he simply stood there blank-faced processing the information. Boston Lobster stopped midway as well to look at him in visible confusion.

He hastily went to pick up his jacket, muttered a rather empty sounding apology to Boston Lobster and Milk Tea before heading out to the forest where the other food souls found him a few hours later -- unconscious and severely wounded after using his skill of equivalent exchange to destroy an entire mountain at the expense of his own physical wellbeing.

Whiskey woke up a week later lamenting to himself that he could have caused his attendant to go on to Nevras and the fact that he was not unconscious for a longer period of time.

Had Brownie and Black Tea not placed him under house arrest, he would have done off to destroy the entire mountain range.

He took to the advice of someone-- he forgot who-- saying that he could simply engage in the things that he used to enjoy.

As such, he took to looking for his favorite food soul.

“Even when I experiment on you… It feels so empty…”

“WHISKEY!!!”

Whiskey sighed as he continued to paint little white x’s on Pizza’s limbs. “If our master attendant was here, they’d be bursting in the door telling me to let you go…” He started to prime the little syringes with a blue liquid. “I get to experiment on you… for their sake… uninterrupted… they’d never know...”

“WHISKEY, YOU BASTARD!”

Whiskey sighed again. “Scream all you like, Pizza. Our attendant isn’t here to stop me and save you. I won’t even bother gagging you this time.”

“Whiskey! Let Pizza go!”

Another sigh. “Ah, Cassata. How nice of you to come.”

He was always prepared to intercept Cheese and Cassata if they came to Pizza’s rescue; quite honestly it was just his attendant that he can’t refuse demands for.

He made sure that Cassata was bound and secured in the corner of his room before attempting to get to work.

Whiskey wasn’t sure why he was more talkative in his session with Pizza today.

“What if they’re not coming back? What if they’re just destined to keep leaving me like this? What is the purpose of all of this then?” He stared at the notebook that he had scribbled his research into before letting it fall out of his hands and onto the ground. The concerned look that both Pizza and Cassata were giving him was making him quite uncomfortable.

Whiskey undid the binds on the food soul’s limbs. It was a shame to let the food soul go. They rarely got around to the point of painting x’s on Pizza; his attendant would typically catch him red-handed at getting Pizza onto the table after tying him up.

“Go. This is pointless.”

He watched with bored eyes how Pizza hastily attempted to untie Cassata before Whiskey got impatient and went in to untie Cassata himself. Even staring at their disappearing figures as they ran out of his room invoked no feelings-- no twisted, sadistic joy at seeing his favorite lab rat run off temporarily nor the childish glee of having his attendant personally visit him to scold him for experimenting on other food souls.

Nothing was the same without his attendant.

How interesting since before he was summoned, the time they had apart didn’t have an effect on him.

To have him regress into such a state was quite disheartening.

But it was nothing that being with them can’t solve.

“I’m going to Nevras.”

“You’re not going to Nevras.”

“I have to go to Nevras.”

“We’ve been over this, Whiskey-”

“I will perish if I am not by their side.” Whiskey attempted to pry Steak off of him as he fended off Red Wine and Gingerbread’s arguments.

“It’s not going to be good for them, you know~! You wouldn’t want that, right?” That was a familiar voice. Whiskey turned around to see Bloody Mary standing in the doorway.

“Even you as well, Bloody Mary?” Whiskey looked on, displeased.

“Food souls aren’t allowed there, after all. You’ll simply put them in an awkward situation~,” Mary replied nonchalantly.

“So be it,” Whiskey sighed. “Pretzel! Mary’s out for Steak’s blood again!” Whiskey announced as loudly as he could. Immediately he heard the thundering of footsteps as an angry Pretzel appeared at the end of the hall.

“BLOODY MARY!”

“WHISKEY, HOW COULD YOU?!”

“In all fairness, you called off this alliance first.” Whiskey continued on his way to the door-- Steak dutifully hanging onto his leg acting as an anchor. “And unlike the rest of you. I have no patience for this. I will not wait any longer.”

“I’m disappointed.” The presence of yet another voice was beginning to irk Whiskey into a state of insanity that he knew not existed up till this point. Today would be a day that Whiskey would lose it and murder any single food soul indiscrimately if they were to interject again.

“If my actions are contingent upon your opinions of me, you are clearly mistaken.” Whiskey turned around to meet eyes with one of the last food souls in this house that he had a somewhat respectable opinion of-- Spaghetti.

Neither he nor the red headed food soul had anything else to say to one another. Rather, there was nothing to be said vocally. The conversation between the two sufficed with the mutual exchange of eye contact holding nothing but disappointment and annoyance.

The brief moments of time that had passed was better perceived as an eternity as the two food souls glowered at one another while the bystanders awkwardly look on.

The looming pressure of discomfort and silent conversation between Whiskey and Spaghetti was abruptly interrupted by the creaking of the door handle and the sound of an opening door which rung thunderously in the otherwise silent house.

“I’m home! A little bit early, but hey! Good to see everyone again!” the all-too-missed chirpy voice was liberating of the intense gloom that was present moments before.

“Master Attendant, welcome back.” Brownie, who had been standing at the doorway as a means of preventing Whiskey from leaving, turned immediately around to greet their master attendant.

“I’m back~!”

“Master Attendant~!” The younger food souls came bustling into the parlor at the sound of their attendant’s voice. Everyone came trickling in one by one.

It was a happy scene unfolding before him.

His attendant, still dressed in travel wear with luggage at their side, greeted everyone with hugs and kisses as sweet words of reunion were exchanged.

Ah. His attendant was back. They were finally back.

There was an onslaught of emotions that came over him, though it didn’t show on his face.

He did not know what came over him. He suddenly felt… tired.

So instead of heading over to greet his attendant and make up for the last several months that they were apart, he recluded back to his room, much to the shock and surprise of the food souls that had caught sight of him.

His attendant was back.

There was no need to go to Nevras to get them back anymore.

The crushing weight of emptiness inside of him lifted away to leave him exhausted and just as hollow as he was before.

With the curtains pulled and doors shut, he hid himself under the covers and drifted aimlessly off to a void of aimless slumber.

Whiskey drifted about the unconscious void without direction. Calm and undisturbed was the surrealistic water he drifted upon. It went on forever in all dimensions-- time, space and beyond-- as far as the eye could see and the mind could process.

And then there was a ripple.

He felt a gentle touch on his head. The faint aroma of red wine and lamb wafted about him.

A voice, smooth and mellow, echoed about him. “Mornin’, Whiskey.”

He saw a soft light before he actually opened his eyes to see the smiling face of his most beloved attendant in front of him.

“Master Attendant-” Whiskey smiled as he met their eyes. “I had quite a strange dream,” he began. “It was a dream in which you had left me.”

“Whiskey, I’m-”

“It was a dream because you wouldn’t actually leave me right?” Whiskey interjected before he could hear anything else. “Because I promised you that I’d always be by your side no matter what happens. So there’s actually no way that you would leave me. Because you can’t leave me, Master Attendant.” Whiskey smiled. Whether that smile was to convincingly lie to his attendant or to himself, he did not know.

His attendant look on sympathetically as they continued to stroke his head in a reassuring manner-- almost as if to disperse the nightmare which had been haunting him in his dreams. “I am happy to wake and see you first thing,” he whispered sleepily.

“I’m here, Whiskey.” Those words fulfilled a strange need within him as Whiskey let out a sigh of pure content. He happily craned his head further against his attendant’s gentle hand as he drifted off to sleep once more.

He woke to complete normalcy.

The household acted and functioned as normal. Everyone behaved as per usual. Any indication of separation between his attendant and everyone for an extended period of time was naught.

Spaghetti and Boston Lobster did indeed act a little awkward around him, but he couldn’t figure out the reasoning. Bloody Mary was moody around him, acting mad before looking as though he remembered something and acting as per usual. He often felt gazes on him and would occasionally catch a food soul staring at him with sad eyes. But their excuse was either about something that they were staring at in the background or something that they found interesting about his earring, facial marking, etc.

The library was under repair for some odd reason, but he had never gone to the library for anything so perhaps he missed the reasoning behind it. He almost recalled that there was supposed to be a mountain in the forest behind their house, but a mountain being there seemed out of place; perhaps it was but something he construed from his imagination.

Everything that he had dreamt of was blurring and fading from his memory as part of a delusional nightmare that he once had.

The insanity that had taken hold of him was but a mere dream slowly being buried away from his conscious mind.

But as to whether those tally marks that he had derangedly carved out in his room were truly there, he had no intent of moving the painting on the wall to find out.

~~~~~~~~~~~

[I wanted to write about Whiskey and potential mental health issues in terms of abandonment among other topics which are close to my own heart.

While I didn’t know how to make this into a one-shot, I felt that it matched well with how some of my recent writings and asks have been going. It’s kind of a self-ask if you can put it that way. My ask box isn’t working for some reason, so I can’t submit anything there.

It’s been awhile since I wrote a more angsty piece, and this is one of my favorite genres to write-- if you can’t tell by the length and the fact that I reread and proofread this for once.

I hope you enjoyed it.]

#ff whiskey #ff whisky #food fantasy #food fantasy whiskey #ff #ff fanfic

72 notes · View notes

funkymbtifiction · 5 years

Text

*sigh* sorry to bother you, but

*sigh* sorry to bother you, but I had a question. I took a break from my enneagram and mbti search, and began noticing functions in action. I saw some Te, and some Si, and just. Decided ENFP was right for me.

Then I saw your Asami typing, and I froze. Dead ass just froze as I read her dominant function of Si — and my stomach twisted because I recognized that behavior. Since about last year, I’ve had an identity crisis. After a lifetime of having things go more or less smoothly, the last year and a half has been a constant rollercoaster of ups and downs. I’m turning twenty at the end of the year, and my dreams have changed from when I was a kid. Shows I’ve held dear to my heart I’ve had to let go of, illusions I had of people turned out to be wrong.

The rose tinted glasses of the past fell. And they shattered at my feet.

My friends keep assuring me it’s okay I’ve changed, that my interests have changed, but the idea scares the living daylights out of me. My soft cushion-y world of fandom is spinning out under my feet, my perceptions of things were wrong. And yet.

I’ve found myself grappling at the past. Trying to rewatch old favorite shows I’ve long since dropped, pinning from how things /use/ to be. I thought perhaps it was just my enneagram 6, clawing for something familiar, something stable.

I can’t just go with the flow like my Ne-Dom friend, who’s motto is “if you don’t like your character, make a new one.” I can’t fathom it because it’s not authentic. I want control of my surroundings, so I feel safe. I feel like a giant question mark falling down an endless tunnel grappling for any semblance of control i can get, so I feel safe and at peace.

Is this…normal for a 6? Or did I utterly mistype myself?

So if I’m hearing you right – stress comes up in your life, and you start clinging to what you know, what you want to keep the same, and so on? As if you are falling into Si as a stress habit (low Si) rather than using Si competently (high Si).

If you are not sure of your cognitive stack and/or questioning getting your typing wrong, please look at how you process information and collect evidence of and for all four functions in your stack. Ne-dom is a far different creature from Ne-inferior, just like Si-dom is a far different creature than Si-inferior. Think of something taken to its extreme level of competency (dom) and then almost nonexistent (inferior).

Why did you rule out INFP? What were your reasons? How are you sure you have Si-dom or Si-inferior? What about tert-Si? Are you prone to Ne/Te loops? Do you know what those are like? Can you give yourself examples of using them? Can you find proof of Fi/Si loops? Generally, normal healthy intuitives are moving forward, and upset if their life isn’t progressing and/or changing. Falling into the past happens under stress and/or as an anxiety coping mechanism (which this could be) and yet, for a Ne-dom, there’s still anger/frustration at not being able to reach greater potential. Going back seems like stalling out.

In the last MBTI book I read (too lazy to go look at the title, it should be in the books tag), I found myself nodding adamantly over the Ne-dom chapter, in which it talked about how Ne-dom fanatically becomes “all about” an idea only to have that interest wane once it has exhausted interest in it, and then the passion can never be reignited; that passion falls by the wayside, used up and abandoned, and then discarded. Happens to me all the time. I go through interests in-depth only to discard them and never look back. (One example: I became an excellent hoop dancer, and was all about hoop dancing for about a year. I have 3 gorgeous hoops in my guest room and have not touched them since. :P) As an ENP, you should be able to see this – and as an INXP, also see it to some extent. It’s the nature of Ne. Obsession and then, suddenly… done. This won’t happen with what your Fi truly loves (some fandoms never die, I could talk LotR until the end of time) but for the most part, Ne-doms go through things like wildfire.

As a 6, I keep things the same out of safety’s sake, but I feel hampered by it – angry, restless, bored, frustrated, because my Ne wants things to change and grow and be new all the time, otherwise I feel “stuck.” I’m still Ne first, in that I instantly see Ne possibilities -- dreams everywhere, vast potential anywhere, I am caught up in the moment and... let most of them drift away undone.

Needing control can be a 6 coping mechanism, yes. But the fact that you were knocked off your axis by realizing you were wrong seems more intuitive than sensing, to me. Intuitives tend to blindly trust their hunches as “facts” and reel when they find out they’re wrong; sensors are more patient in gathering evidence and more aware of “the real world.”

- ENFP Mod

#question #enfp #mbti #enneagram #enneagram 6 #submission

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vixenslittleasylum-blog · 6 years

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“All you have to do is say the word.” ft Drew Gulak

What Happened Was:You are the manager of Drew’s little ‘stable of chaos’ and until recently, you two were close friends. But the tension arises. And maybe, your advice to him about a romantic thing prompts you to take a closer look as to why he needed that advice in the first place?

Comments make my black soul happy,tbh. Or reblogs or whatever. Just a writer, returning to this whole writing fanfiction thing so I’ll take what I can get.

Words: 1k+ or something, shit.

Fandom: professional wrestling, 205 Live

Pairing: you / drew gulak.

Warnings: it’s too fluffy! I can’t believe that this little drabble thingy came out of my black hearted ass.

/masterlist/ & /tag squad post/ if you want to be added and tagged in things I write. My masterlist is.. Nonexistent right now? Because this is a new blog for me and I’m starting from scratch here..

You rolled your eyes. He was still at it, pouting like a child. He’d been doing it since you’d left the arena almost two hours ago and the silent treatment and the pouting was starting to get on your last nerve. You didn’t like it when he got like this and lately, it seemed like he did it a lot. You two seemed to stay tense around each other, you were picking up on it. So were your friends.

They kept insisting that maybe if you told him how you felt.. Maybe that tension would melt away. Their insistence that he might even return your feelings, that always served for a good laugh or two when you were out with them having drinks lately.

Drew Gulak… Wanting a mess like you?

Nah. An apocalypse was more likely than that.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Drew shifted his gaze to the passenger window, staring out intently. He’d seen you flirting with Baron again and honestly, that just told him he needed to give up on his little crush on you because you obviously had your mind all made up as to what kind of man you preferred.

Before Baron, you’d been dating some other biker looking asshole that he’d seen at the arena a time or two, hitting on anything with a pair of tits.

“Okay, fine.. Forget I asked. But if this is about that chick you were going to ask on a date, maybe if you made a move of some kind, did something to clue her in..” you let the words linger hesitantly and he chuckled, there was a certain marked bitterness to the chuckle that you noticed and you smirked to yourself, reaching out to lower the volume on the radio.

“Thank God. I was getting a little sick of The Rolling Stones.” Drew muttered the words, mostly hoping it’d steer you off track because if you didn’t get off this particular subject soon, he just had this feeling he’d wind up cracking and spilling it all. He cleared his throat and stated again calmly, “I don’t think it’d matter. She obviously has her type.”

“And? People change ‘types’ all the time.” you air quoted the word types and you gave a soft laugh as you shook your head. You’d definitely changed types because a few months ago?

You would never have given Drew Gulak a second glance.

Maybe it was being placed into an angle where you were the manager of his little ‘stable’ as of late.. Maybe that changed it all.

Or maybe, you had the passing thought, it was the night he’d carried you out of the hotel bar and up to your room and he’d seen to you while you slept off the end result of way too much tequila. The way you two had stayed up until almost 3 am, just talking about pretty much everything.. And the way he left you as you fell asleep and he left you wanting so much more than the formal and slightly awkward hug he offered.

“Yeah? Name one person.” Drew challenged you and he waited, wondering who you’d name, parts of him hoping that maybe… ‘Nah.. you can forget that now. She’s still flirting with Baron.’

“Well, technically, Drew.. I have.”

“You have not. Baron isn’t any different than your ex. He’s almost exactly the same, actually..” he grimaced at the harsh tone he’d taken and he quickly offered a quiet and mumbled apology, even if he didn’t mean it. The truth was, he envied Baron.. and all these other jerks like him. Because there was just something about them that you wanted, and he wanted you so bad he could taste it. But he didn’t dare try to force anything, and he felt like if he did try to flirt or anything, he’d only make things awkward between you two.

Ouch, shit.. that stung a little. - The words did make you wince as you took in what he was saying and you eyed him, a brow raised. - Maybe, Gulak, if you would open your fucking eyes and notice me, wanting you.. Maybe I wouldn’t have to amuse myself with the other guys. - And you almost blurted it out, instead, you took a deep breath and told him calmly, “Regardless.. People change types all the time. Maybe this girl has. Maybe you just need to try harder. You know.. Maybe actually flirt with her, maybe you let her know she’s wanted. You’re an amazing guy, she’s lucky..” and you trailed off, before you said anything too crazy or revealing of your true feelings.

- Why the fuck are you helping him, exactly? You want him.

Drew sat there, considering your words and pondering over what that last little bit meant exactly.. Were you just being nice? Were you hinting at something? No, he thought to himself, it’d be in my best interest not to get my hopes up.. And maybe, he picked up on hints of your own bitterness and hurt and he stared at you for at least three and a half minutes, puzzling out what had to be bothering you in his mind.

Overthinking, as he typically did.

“Everything alright?” he asked the question tentatively and he eyed you, an expectant gaze, awaiting an answer.

“Yeah, it’s good.. I’m good.. Maybe just a little tired or something. I’ve been having an off night.” you did your best to wave off his concern and you crossed your fingers, hoping it worked. Because if he pushed too much, you’d wind up spilling everything. “Think I’ll just get a drink or something when we get to the hotel.”

The GPS’ automated drone cut through a thickening silence and Drew spoke up quietly, just as you were pulling into the hotel parking lot and killing the engine. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe if I tried… But this girl, I’m pretty sure she won’t notice because I’ve been trying for months now. She’s just… I don’t know.”

When he got out, you were left sitting there, thinking about it, feeling jealous over a girl you didn’t even know anything about because Drew was more than a little vague whenever he’d tell you about her.

For some reason, you found yourself thinking back over the past few months.. To all the little things he did, the little things you did in response and the way you two just.. Clicked.

With the exception of the past few weeks, of course.

And it hit you then..

But you tried to shove it out of your head. Because there was no way it was that simple, there was no way possible you were the girl in question… Right?

No, it couldn’t possibly be that simple because if it were, that meant one thing.. All the flirting you’d been doing with Baron and others in an attempt to get his attention was only doing the opposite and making him want to give up.

You had this feeling that you were right though. The churning of your stomach as you found yourself going back over every single little thing he’d done lately, and some of the bigger things that you’d put off to him merely being a friend and being slightly overprotective of you as a result.

The question remained… What did you do now? Did you attempt bringing up your suspicions? No, you thought to yourself, he’d only laugh and tell you that the girl in question was not you..Then things would get insanely awkward and the tension making you two fight as of late? Welp, that would just worsen.

The storm clouds were rolling in and just as you got out of the car and started to jog towards the building, hoping to catch up to him and confront him, the bottom dropped out. When you finally did make it inside, Drew was nowhere to be seen.

“You’ll be sharing your room this time. Otherwise, we’re all booked. And with that storm, this is probably the best you’re going to get tonight.” the desk clerk held out the key card and you took it, still reeling in shock over what you hoped to be true.

The whole ride up to your room, you were almost bouncing because you were so filled with this energy, this desire to do something about the situation itself before it got so fucked that no one could fix it.

DING!

The elevator slid to a stop on the floor your room was on and you stepped off, walking towards the door just as Drew sent you a text.

KEN DOLL.. WITH A BETTER BODY → hey, you get checked in?

KEN DOLL… WITH A BETTER BODY → Look.. about before.. I’m sorry, just forget it.

You were just sliding your key card into the slot, with the door unlocking when the door was opened from the other side and you looked up into the eyes of your best friend Drew, swallowing hard.

“Drew..”

“You told me to do something, to be more obvious..” he muttered the words quietly and before he had a chance to freak out or backpeddle on his obvious attempt, you were pressing against him and he was trying like hell to keep his balance as your luggage hit the floor of the hallway with a soft thud. He realized quickly what was happening just as your lips were latching onto his and you’d raised to tiptoe. He gripped your ass, pulling you up his body, your legs circled his waist as he squeezed and rubbed your ass and you moaned into his mouth breathlessly.

“It was my fault.. I thought maybe if I flirted with the biggest douchebags on the roster you’d play Superman, I.. Didn’t realize that you’d think I actually preferred those assholes.” the kiss broke at your admission and Drew was gaping, breathing heavily, clearly shocked at what you said.

“Wait, what?”

“I thought if I got in over my head, Drew..”

“You were gonna do.. That..”

“I didn’t know what else to do. I’m not good at this, okay?” you laughed softly and he rested his forehead against yours.

“I’m not either.”

“I’m cold and wet and tired.. Just take me inside, would you?” you shivered in his arms and as you spoke, your lips grazed right against his neck and he chuckled, swallowing hard as his gaze settled on the thin tee shirt you wore before he met your gaze again.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, princess. All you have to do is say the word.”

#drew gulak #drew gulak x reader #drew gulak one shot #drew gulak x reader one shot #fluff overload #fluff one shot #wwe fanfiction #205 Live fanfiction #drew gulak fanfiction

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aviationfiction · 6 years

Text

XXXII

Dante St. James

“I need you all to understand that it takes a tremendous amount of effort and time to build a business. There is no such thing as an overnight success. I don’t care how many viral moments you see. I know that social media driven fame has become the new thing. It’s those moments where someone does something simpleminded or displays some type of talent and the next thing you know they’re sitting on Ellen’s couch and being given tickets some some concert, sporting event, or a four figure donation. As quickly as those moments of fame come is as quickly as they fizzle out. Are we talking about Antoine Dodson anymore? Remember he told us to hide our kids and our wives?” As expected, laughter sounded out in the enormous seminar room as everyone shook their heads in response to my question and also towards one of the biggest viral moments the internet as ever seen. Though I typically hate conducting our workshops, I still take them on rather than passing them off to someone else because I have no issue with sharing my knowledge. It’s an essential part of life. We learn so that those after us can utilize our knowledge and improve upon what we’ve already done. Who am I to try and avoid the circle of life? Though the higher ups in the building tend to look at the interns as the flunkies who they can control and manipulate, I view them as budding employees who are slowly working their way up their ranks. We tend to hire interns from some of the most prestigious schools in the country, but it was me who also opened up our selection process to state schools, community colleges, and institutions with small student bodies. Everyone deserves a chance. Some of the people we hail as geniuses in a ton of fields didn’t even go to college. If I can sit up here and drop enough gems to advance everyone in the room forward whether it be here at the company or in some other aspect of their lives, I’m serving a part of my purpose. Despite what they may think, I learn from them just as much.

“I can stand here and list off a ton of those moments, but overall, are we talking about them now? No. As a public relationships representative for a company, you do not want that. If you cannot attract and retain customers and consumers, not only will whatever company or artist you work for fall under the radar to the point of being obsolete, but you yourself will not survive in the field.”

“But with someone like Antoine, he wasn’t looking for fame. It just sort of came to him. Right?” The question came from the back of the room. If I’m not mistaken, is name tag said Harris.

“He was seeking proper PR after the fact. Often times people who experience those viral moments try to capitalize off of them. Why wouldn’t they? Your name and face is out there, so why not try to make some money off of a naive public that is getting amusement off of whatever it is that you said or did? He did a couple of television appearances and even did correspondence for some show for a couple of months. He did the typical showing up to Hollywood events for the sake of publicity move and don’t forget they turned the audio from the news report into a song that sold millions of singles. He was performing that crappy auto-tuned song everywhere, even on BET. He ended up hiring a publicist and that person had him move out to L.A. and ruined whatever momentum he had. That was the end of it for him. There was no real goal there. There was no strategy because as you said, he wasn’t seeking fame in the first place. This is why those type of people fade away. As publicist its your job to do your best in creating the momentum behind a person, but I won’t lie to you about it being challenging especially when you initially notice that whatever talent, product, or service they’re trying to push out there is bullshit. As interns, that’s what they’re going to push down here to you, sadly. That’s apart of the challenge. As you work your way up, you’ll be able to pick and choose who and what you want to represent. You’ll be able to sort through the pile and toss what sounds great to the right and the nonsense to the left. You’ll be able choose between working with Sony Records instead of having to come up with a marking campaign for the guy who is trying to sell baby poop alarms. Yes, that’s a real invention. Look it up.” Even I had to laugh at that one. That is by far the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen in my life and I’ve had my experiences with people and products that have rendered to me to speechlessness from their ridiculousness. Nothing tops that one.

“And don’t forget. Don’t overlook platforms just because it didn’t work in the past. Don’t close your ears to suggestions. The important part of keeping things going at any PR firm is feedback. We’ve talked about this before and I cannot stress it enough. Share with your people. Uplift your firm. Update the people around you about the results of whatever you’ve done whether it’s successful or not. If it’s successful, it can always become even better. If it’s not, modifications can be done to get it there.” With the click of a button, I shut the oversized screen off as a sign of my conclusion and the round of applause caused me to swiftly turn my head with a smirk. I never expected it, but it’s nice nonetheless.

“Thank you. It’s been three long days but I’m glad that you all were attentive, well enthused, and engaged each day. You all make it easy on me. Feel free to stop by my office if you have any questions or you want to run something by me. I have an open door policy unless I’m extremely busy. Either way, Stacey will make sure I get the message, even if I can’t get back to you immediately. Have a Happy Thanksgiving as well.”

You ever been tired of hearing yourself speak? Though the three day workshop was a success, I’m damn sure tired of hearing my voice. I’m up at five and in the office by seven so that I can respond to any e-mails and go over paperwork before coming down here to spend the rest my early morning and the bulk of the afternoon amongst the interns. Matthew was supposed to be in here with me two out of three of this days but my no show older brother purposefully ducked off to Vegas to get out of it. What he deems to be work is most likely going to be nothing more than a weekend of drinking and gambling away money that he’s making simply for being employed here. Though Richard popped his head in twice, I didn’t bother with addressing it and I’m not going to now that it’s all said and done. My patience in that particular area is diminishing from thin to nonexistent day by day. I have enough on my plate as it is.

“I got you Carbone for lunch. I was in the area so I figured why not.” As soon as I stepped one foot of the elevator, I could hear Stacey’s voice. I don’t understand how she automatically knows it’s me coming. She’s yet to fail at it.

“What did you get?”

“The spicy rigatoni vodka with the meatballs and grilled asparagus. I know it sounds heavy, but what Italian dishes aren’t? Your mother called for you. I’m sure you’re not going to call back, so moving on. I also got you a little something something from the cheesecake factory. You needed a dessert with that.”

“Did something happen?” I didn’t bother to walk down to her office. Instead, I opened the door to my own and awaited the sound of her heels. Eventually, she’ll get up and make her way in here.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because you bought me Carbone for lunch and then stopped at the Cheesecake Factory to buy me dessert. Either you did something or something happened. Which one is it?” As soon as I flopped down into the leather chair, I eyed the two bags she left on my desk. Though my appetite isn’t craving much of anything because Autumn was up early enough to fill my stomach with French toast, eggs, and turkey bacon, I am absolutely going indulge on the cheesecake. If it’s a red velvet slice, that’s even better.

“I didn’t do it.” Suddenly the sound of her heels became more annoying than it usually is. I knew there had to be something.

“Well who did?”

“Richard.” His name rolled off of her tongue in the same manner as it would have rolled off of mine if I were the one saying it. Though he’s never personally stepped out of character with Stacey, her disdain for him stems from the relationship that she and I have. If were up to her, I would have left his company a couple of years ago. Now that Autumn’s in my life, her advice for me to get out of here has become more intense and urgent. Whether she can go wherever I end up or not, she would rather stay behind than to see me remain confined within these A&M walls.

“What happened?”

“Your father has been walking around this building ever since he came in this morning telling people that you’re engaged. Not only has he been telling people that you’re engaged, but he’s also giving them a wedding date.” Suddenly my desire to devour that piece of cheesecake diminished and disdained filled the pit of my stomach at the thought of him boastfully walking around here announcing what I know he feels nothing but sarcasm and indifference about. I never had any intention to conceal my engagement from anyone, but from the moment I took that knee in front of Autumn, I did internally vow to protect it from those who I know are toxic and more than willing to go out of their way to sabotage what she and I share. It’s been two weeks since her birthday festivities and I’ve contemplated speaking to my parents and brother about it a number of times and personally chose to back down at the end of each thought. If we had a normal family dynamic, I would have had a conversation with both my father and brother a long time ago and would have gotten advice not only on how to treat a woman but how to have longevity with one. If I respected my mother and her opinion enough, I would have been picking her brain for pointers on how to woo, romance, and consistently shower Autumn with my love and affection. Our Sunday dinners would have been filled with knowledge from the two elders, laughs with my big brother, and the teasing that I’ve now have gotten used to from my sister-in-law, but instead I sit there filled with tension, counting every minute until I feel compelled to walk out so that I can refrain from mentally exploding. We don’t have nor have we ever had normalcy so my engagement is mine. My fiancée is mine.

“What the hell do you mean he’s telling people a date?”

“He’s mentioning May twentieth and boasting about it being at The Plaza Hotel. I suppose he’s mentioning The Plaza because it’s one of the most, if not the most expensive venue in the city for a wedding. It’s damn near four hundred dollars per guest, with additional taxes and service fees.”

“How do you even know that?”

“Okay, I won’t lie. It’s been two weeks since you laced my soon to be sister-in-law’s finger with that gorgeous Lorraine Swartz ring, so I’ve been looking around. I couldn’t help myself. An engagement party has to happen soon.”

“Stacey.” I slowly drew my hands down my face and huffed. Had she not been the bearer of bad news prior to telling me what she’s been doing since Autumn’s birthday, I would have laughed because she truly cannot help herself. I’d already figured it out when I saw two Brides magazines sneakily tucked under a couple of papers while standing in front of her desk just a couple of days ago. In our many conversations since then, she’ll casually snuck in a couple of questions about the types of flowers I like, my preferred ambiance, and color schemes that have either left me in confusion or amusement. I’m more than glad that she’s excited but if that excitement can stay contained within the bubble that we share while we’re in this building, I’d be thrilled.

“What? I’m happy. I wonder who could have told him though. You think Camille did? She’s the only person that I can think of.” Instantly, I shook my head. She wouldn’t. Camille and I have had more than enough conversations that I’m absolutely sure have remained between the two of us. She and Matthew have far too many issues that need to be discussed so I’m the last person that they’re arguing or potentially pillow talking about.

“No. It couldn’t have been her. Were we some bullshit Page Six story again?”

“No. Autumn posted a couple of photos of herself from her birthday party on her Instagram, but they were all photos that were taken before you proposed because her ring wasn’t on her finger in any of them. Can I ask you something though?”

“What?” Could it have been Camille? Maybe it slipped out at a family dinner? There was no one else at the table who could have encountered Richard since then but her.

“Is she not allowed to post photographs of you?”

“Who said that?” I’m not a social media person. I’ve never been one. Though I’ve been encouraged to up my presence in that area for the sake of this business and self-marketing for future endeavors, I still haven’t delved too much into it because I’ve seen how addicting, vile, and distracting it can be. The interns walk around here with their phones glued to their hands and sit around on their breaks gossiping about the latest in entertainment news or something silly and potentially ignorant that has gone viral for the day. I wouldn’t deem myself to be above it, but I don’t keep up with anyone’s personal business aside from my own and those that I love. Even in the midst of scandals that require extensive P.R. clean up work, I don’t deal with it. That’s not my department. That aside, I’ve never attempted to control or monitor what Autumn chooses to share on social media. I wouldn’t be bothered by her sharing photos of us because I know she understands and even limits what she shares and how it’s done.

“No one did. I’m simply asking.”

“She can post whatever she likes. I’ve never told her that she can’t post photos of me. I don’t believe she’s interested in being the one to usher people into her business and that’s exactly social media is. She had a public divorce, Stace. You know what type of scrutiny comes with that.”

“That’s understandable. It didn’t come from the internet though. Believe me, I looked around.”

“I’m going to ask him myself and do my best to shut him the fuck up. He does his best to control and manipulate just about everything that forms in his path, but my pending marriage is off limits.”

“Dante, you know you have to get out of here before you stand at an alter and exchange vows right? You can’t do that and come back here.”

“I know.” I know that now more than ever. I’ve known since Autumn and I made it official in Las Vegas and it was a focal point of our conversation when I chose to take her to Malibu in the wee hours of the morning to give her a look at what a potential life together could and would be if we were to move out west and turn what is now just a house into a home for ourselves and soon enough, a growing family. Though I can give myself credit for knowing how to control and shift my emotions when necessary, I cannot take the risk of there possibly being a time when I can’t and then I come home to inflict negative energy on the people that I love. I don’t want to bicker back and forth with my wife over trivial bullshit because I’m mentally miserable and entrapped by Richard’s expectations and his underhanded choice in seeing me as a tool rather than a son. I don’t want Elizabeth showing up to my house and forcing her way into my comfort zone only for an argument to erupt because she’s purposefully overstepping. I have no interest in sitting in a jail cell for the rest of my life because Matthew decided to disrespect Autumn yet again. None of that can come to fruition if the change doesn’t start with myself. I don’t want my children within toxic environments or around the people who create them. I can’t predict what the future will entail nor do I know if there will be any improvements in the relationship I have with the people I share a blood connection with, but I understand how our interactions are now, where the tension stems from, and most of all, that there is no resolution to be had right now or in the foreseeable future.

“I’ll be back.”

My trek to the elevator was swift and though the wait for it was only a mere couple of seconds, suddenly I wished it was minutes or even hours at the doors opened to reveal Megan leaning against the stainless steel wall. Though it’s unspoken, she intentionally attended all of the workshops for the sake of being within my presence for information that she doesn’t need because she already knows it. While there is nothing wrong with making sure to brush up on information to remain sharp within your craft, her intentions have absolutely nothing to do with that and I’ve known it for months. She’s the young school girl who has perfect attendance in a particular class because she enjoys ogling over the teacher but apples aren’t what she wants to put on my desk. The way she maneuvers around here has gone from being something I chuckle at to a certain level of discomfort that may need to be addressed before she does something to get herself expelled from a program that she’s damn near completed. I’d hate for her to allow her hormones to get in the way of the talents that she actually does possess. I’m am not, nor have I ever, nor will I ever be interested in anything beyond a cordial professional connection with her. If she feels compelled to screw people around here, there are a ton of her peers and even superiors who would be more than willing to take her up on the offer.

“Good afternoon Mr. St. James.” We didn’t make eye contact. As I stepped inside, my attention was directed to the panel of buttons. My finger tapped one for the floor I’m going to and I stepped over to the side to give both her and I some room.

“Good afternoon.”

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you that the workshops were great. You always do a such great job.”

“Thank you, I’m glad that you enjoyed them.”

“So what are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Just about everyone has already left or is leaving early to begin their holiday festivities. Hell, I’m surprised Stacey is still in the building. She usually likes to begin her precooking early in the morning so she won’t have to do any of it overnight.

“I’m spending it with family. You?” Autumn’s family that is. She invited me to come and having Thanksgiving dinner at her house the day after her birthday and I quickly agreed with her request. Typically, I’m at home for Thanksgiving. Though my mother spends days at a time convincing me to head over to their house to have dinner with them, I either decline or agree to get her off of my back, only to leave her in disappointment when I never show up the day of. I usually have no interest in being there during Sunday dinners, so why spend a family oriented holiday at a table filled with food that is poor quality in taste while listening to the banter of three people who I do not favor? Usually Stacey will drop off Tubberwear bowls filled with food, but this year I’m spending it with those who I’ll be able to call my extended family soon enough. Her birthday dinner gave me more than enough of a great vibe to know that they enjoy themselves during celebrations, so I’m looking forward to it. I’m damn sure ready for the food. Both Autumn and her mother are cooking. I already know what my lady can do in the kitchen and if her mom cooks as great as I know she bakes, I’m in for a hell of a treat.

“I’m doing the same. We’re all heading over to my aunts house in Delaware this year; my mom’s sister. It should be nice.”

“Yeah, it sounds nice. I hope you enjoy yourself.”

“Are you really engaged?” I’d already known this trivial conversation was leading up to that question as soon as she opened up her mouth to say good afternoon. The eager expression on her face let the cat out of the bag and there was no way for her to mask it because she’s overt with her emotions and thoughts. I doubt anyone else within the intern pool would be bold enough to ask me such a personal question aside from her and instead of taking an approach of seniority and superiority, I’m going to indulge her curiosity with an honest response.

“Yes.” What I thought was simple and straight to the point turned into an instant complexity judging by the expression on her face. She lost her train of thought and didn’t know where to go with her follow up question. I don’t see signs of hurt. There was a shock value in what I said judging by the bulging of her eyes and I’m not surprised. Though it isn’t by my doing, I know my love life has always been a whispered topic throughout this place. Because I’ve never engaged in problematic romantic or sexual situations with anyone employed here, it has left them to seek out who I may or may not be dealing with outside of work. For any event we have, there is always an anticipation to see if I’ll show up with anyone on my arm and I leave them all filled with disappointment every single time. I’m sure there are those who have assumed I’m gay because of it. All in all, I really don’t give a shit.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“Is it to the woman I saw you with at The Met?” Shit. I forgot I even spoke with her that day. Up until now, the only thing I could recall was the petty argument that happened between Autumn and I and her hair blowing in the wind as she rode off in a taxi leaving me to wonder if she ended things things between us.

“Yes.” The elevator doors opened as soon as I finished my one worded response. “Have a great day and a Happy Thanksgiving.”

My feet were moving as swiftly as my thoughts. Without acknowledgement or regard, I breezed past Richard’s barely out of college secretary and opened the door to his office, despite her warring about him being on an international business call. Though he continued to speak, he smirked to acknowledge my presence and used his hand to summon me forward. I chose to remain near the door so my exit could be as quick as my entrance. I rarely, if ever, come up here. He usually intrudes on my space or seeks me out.

“Syed, let me give you a call back in about fifteen minutes.” Syed from Marka Holdings. I know exactly where this is going, if not today, then sometime next week.

“Why are you prancing around here talking about something that you know absolutely nothing about. On top of it, you’re giving people a date and promising invitations? You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Aside from the A&M Gala, Richard hosts a ton of parties and a weekend in the Hamptons for a large quantity of employees in the building. He attempts rounds of golf with supervisors and the heads of certain departments and he’s also hosted a few of them at his home. I have a tendency to bring work home but not the people at work. Other than Stacey, I couldn’t imagine having to muster up a phony grin while shaking the hands and giving thanks to attendees from this company who couldn’t care less about my marriage. I don’t mind playing politics but I’d at least like to be able to let my guard down and enjoy my wedding without having to question motives and intentions.

“Congratulations son. Shit if you ask me, I never thought the day would come and yet here it is. I saw it in the way you were looking at her when your mother and I showed up to the opening of your restaurant and nightclub in Los Angeles. You were looking at her like you’d never seen anything like her at any other point in your life. Liz and I had a good laugh at that. She went on and on about how much she likes her and I told her that I like that you like her. I like why you like her. I’ve told you that you need to get your face out there more often and she’s the perfect piece to that puzzle.” Two deep breaths and the shaking of my head did nothing to cease the arising aggravation. The most insulting part of his statement doesn’t come as a surprise. Despite how much he claims to be in love with my mother, she is without a doubt his trophy wife. He parades her around as such and has made plenty of derogatory statements about beating white men at their own game by parading around with one another their own. Early on, he thought Matthew would eventually end up marrying outside of his race as well, but Camille came into the picture at the right time. Though she’s humbly beauty and brains, Camille has a maternal instinct that I am sure he gravitated towards as a means to cope with the loss of his own. Though Elizabeth coddles him and turns a blind eye to his bullshit as a means to pay her debt for having played a part in ruining his family, she isn’t his mother and he’ll never view her as such despite his pretending. He turns to Camille, who has a ton of similar traits to his mother, and she pets and takes care of him though he is undeserving. It’s likely the reason why he’s not as invested in them starting a family is because the children will draw a lot of her attention away from him.

“My relationship isn’t for show or to gain traction to my public persona. I don’t operate like you. How many times does that have to be clarified and proven for you to understand it? Anything I have going on beyond this place is beyond you and your acceptance. So do me a rare favor and stop walking around here giving people false information about my business for the sake of making yourself look good. I don’t need it and neither do you.”

“I went to Lorraine to pick out a tennis bracelet for your mother and a couple of other pieces since the holiday season has arrived and it was quite interesting and yet confusing when she quickly congratulated me on gaining a daughter-in-law. She then went on and on about how detailed you were in designing the ring and how important the whole entire process was for you and I had to sit there with a smirk on my face while nodding in agreement with some shit that I had no idea about. How exactly do you justify not telling your parents that you plan on marrying someone?”

“As I said, anything I have going on beyond this place is beyond you. That’s all the justification you need. You shouldn’t be surprised by what I don’t tell you. What should surprise you is what I do tell you.” His face eased into a blankness as his eyes attempted to piece a hole through me. I struck a nerve.

“Your mother and I would like to host you and your fiancée for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow evening.”

“No thank you. We have plans already.”

“A lot of the decisions that you make to isolate yourself don’t bother me. You are who you are and despite your resistance, I am proud of who you have become. I cannot and will not dwell on you throwing these silent tempter tantrums because I didn’t take you to the park to kick a ball around or because I didn’t throw you some fancy sweet sixteen party and present you with a sports car in front of all of your friends. I raised you to be a man and I financed the finest educational opportunities to complete that task. My job is done. It’s your mother who sits around moping and crying over you continuing to shut her out despite her endless attempts to amend the tension between the two of you. How does that not guilt you? There are people who wake up everyday wishing that they’re able to have a conversation or share a hug with their mother and yet you take that for granted.”

“Do I? It might be a little too late for me to be craving a mommy type of hug. She should have been giving me those when I was a child and actually needed them. Those were necessary when I was trying to learn what love is. Now? I don’t see the point. You can’t miss what you never had right? It’s difficult to make up for that kind of intentional lost time. She made that choice. Not me. I didn’t come here to talk about that or her. Stop turning my personal life into a hot shot story. That’s all I have to say.”

“What do you think you’re going to do? Get married without your mother and I in attendance? You’d look like a fool.”

“What’s that quote by Winston Churchill? Uh….oh yeah. The greatest lesson in life is to know that even fools are right sometimes.”

The famous quote was my final statement and it lingered in the silence that followed my exit. Nothing more needed to be said and I had no interest in starting a full blown argument over what he knows is out of line. If anything, he pulled that charade today out of spitefulness for whatever unwanted emotions he’s feeling due to my lack of mentioning anything directly to him. Despite that, he knows better than to seek guilt from me about anything. I don’t regret it and if it were up to me, he still wouldn’t know.

Leaving the office now, baby. I’m on my way to you.

Though she insisted that I didn’t have to do it, I promised Autumn that I’d be picking her up from work today and we’d grab a pizza and some great pasta for lunch. It’s been a while since we had a pizza date and I’ve missed watching her drool over each slice she consumes. Also, it’ll be a way for us to have some private time to kick it with one another before we’re at her parents home and surrounded by relatives that I know and plenty that I will be getting to know.

Don’t go to Teterboro. I’m not there. Isaac and his ridiculous ass drove me to the hospital in Hackensack over absolutely nothing. Just go to your place and then I’ll call you when I’m on my way home so you can head over. I’ll tell you what happened when you get to the house. I love you.

The “over nothing” portion of her text message never registered. As my pace picked up, my phone nearly slipped out of my palm as perspiration built up. My frustration and anxiety met the golden elevator’s button as I pressed it ceaselessly in hopes that the elevator’s operating system would understand my mental space and quicken it’s pace so that I could exit the building properly, but it didn’t. Instead, I opted for the staircase and dashed into my office to retrieve my possessions. Out of respect for Stacey, who had disappeared from her desk, I took the lunch she bought me with me and sent her a text message that I left the building while on my way to the car. God had to be on my side as I forced myself to remain within the New York City speed limit while heading towards NY-495 West but I defied him a bit as I put my foot to the petal once I was on I-95 in New Jersey. The lack of traffic was what allowed me to race against the thirty five minute time frame it should have taken me to get to her and I was able to cut it down to twenty five. I didn’t have a clue of where she could be, so my best choice was to start with the emergency room. Whether she was there or not, they could give me answers.

“Dante!”

While digging down into my pocket for my phone, I turned my attention in the direction that the light voice came from. Lauren raised her hand up high enough for me to notice her as she trekked down the hallway with her coat draped over her arm. Though I didn’t expect to see her, relief flushed through my thoughts because I no longer had to ask a ton of questions to random employees.

“I’m so glad that you’re here and yet I’m kind of not glad about it, because she’s going to be so mad.” I raised both eyebrows at her giggling and she shook her head. “She’s so angry and she’s being stubborn because she feels like Isaac overreacted. Lillian and I were already out at the store picking up what was left on Autumn’s list of groceries that she needs for her portion of tomorrow’s dinner when we got the phone call, so we just rushed here. The groceries are still in the car and everything. Silas is at the house with Larissa and Ray but he’s been calling just about every ten minutes. I can only imagine the look on her face when she’s sees you. She’s probably going to blame me and say that I called you.”

“She told me that she’s here, so she’ll know it wasn’t you. She texted me telling me to go home and wait for her, but that wasn’t happening.”

“I’m glad it didn’t. Maybe you can talk some of that stubborn down. You do know your wife to be is a very stubborn woman right?”

“I know.”

“Good. So you know what you’re going to be dealing with as long as you both shall live.”

“I do.” Our chuckling followed my response. I learned that about her very early on and though it has it’s slightly annoying moments, it does have it’s cute ones. I also appreciate that she knows when to check herself in that area.

“She’s right through those doors down there and in the second bed closest to the left when you walk in the room. Luckily the other patient in the room was discharged a little while ago, so he didn’t have to endure the continuous argument between she and her brother for long.”

“What happened? Why is she here?”

“Some dizziness that caused her to take quite a bit of a fall.” My eyes instantly widened at that revelation and while Lauren nodded in understanding at my reaction. “Issac thought she was having another one of those TIAs or worse, so he put her in the car despite her protests and drove her here.”

“I’m glad he did. I’m going to check on her. You’re leaving?”

“I’m just running to the car, I’ll be back.”

“Okay.” After receiving clearance from a staff member in registration, I was granted access to the emergency room. A churning in my stomach sparked up at the stench and sight of illness. When my uncle started being in and out of hospitals, much like anyone else I developed a bit of distaste in the midst of the respect I do have for the people who put in countless hours to save lives. It’s something about knowing that no matter how many times he was back and forth in the hospital, his health slowly but surely continued to deteriorate. It caused resentment to fester within me. It makes sense given that he’s the only father that I ever knew. With that in mind, a place like this is the last place I want to see my fiancee in unless it’s to birth our children.

I could hear Autumn’s complaints as soon as I stepped in the room and her mother’s plea for her to cooperate went into one ear and right out of the other as she spoke over her and scolded Isaac for being so impulsive and stupid. Surprisingly he didn’t respond with words. He let her rant fly freely.

“You’re really having a fit over here huh?” Though I playfully poked my head beyond the curtain to lighten the mood, the bewildered expression on her face signified just how poorly that went over. Had it not been an embarrassing move within itself, I’m almost sure she would have pulled the white sheet over her head and did her best to mentally disappear from the room. Aside from the machines hooked up to her finger and arm to check the standard vitals, she looked to be doing alright and that granted me far more relief than anyone could ever understand. I can only imagine what her family went through when she was hospitalized and how the visual and experience has remained embedded in their conscious, but if God is on my side I don’t ever want her to go through something like that ever again. I don’t want to stand over the love of my life as her life hangs on by a thread. It’ll mentally and physically suffocate me.

“Boy am I glad that you’re here. Maybe you can talk some sense into your fiancée and convince her to do the CT, so that we can go home. That’s all she needs.” Lillian drew her lips up into a frustrated smirk and glanced over at her headstrong child who refused to make eye contact with me.

“I’m going to step outside. Maybe she’ll do it if she no longer has someone to argue with.”

“We wouldn’t be arguing if you hadn’t overreacted to absolutely nothing.”

“Or maybe we shouldn’t be arguing because I was only looking out for you. I don’t think you understand because you weren’t on the other side of that shit. I’ve never known you to be a person to lack empathy so don’t pull that bullshit now because you’re upset. I’m glad you’re alright for the most part, but lets not forget the last time you were gripping your head and you hit the ground, you didn’t get back up. Thankfully, you’re still here after what happened. Carelessness can always be a reason for you not to be, but I’m not participating in that shit. I did what was right. Be mad all you fucking want to.” In a swift movement, he snatched his trench coat off of the chair on the left side of the bed and walked around me. Though his words didn’t seem to go into one of her ears and right out of the other, she couldn’t help but to roll her eyes at his emotions because she was still stuck in her own.

“I don’t like places like this. Who the hell does? You don’t know what it’s like to be woken up every half an hour or so to someone sticking you with this and that, taking you from floor to floor for a bunch of tests that never make sense, and painfully wondering if you’re going to get the hell out of here. My time in this very hospital was not pleasant. So excuse me if you all are pissed off because I have fears and hesitance about coming to places like this.”

“No one is refuting how you feel. We haven’t done that. I understand where you’re coming from. No one enjoys coming to hospitals sweetheart, but you know what? It’s apart of life and it’s better to be safe than sorry. Your brother isn’t a doctor. He became alarmed by it and wanted to get you to a place where what you’re feeling could be analyzed and understood whether it was something big or small.” Rather than scolding Autumn for the silence that followed, she pressed her lips to her forehead and endearingly ran her hand over the top of her head in a manner that only a mother could do. “I’m going to step outside for a couple of minutes.”

Rather than taking a seat in the chair, I purposefully invaded her space by sitting down towards the end of the bed. Though I hadn’t said anything yet, she was forced to make eye contact and within that split second, the vulnerability that she’d been trying so hard to mask since my arrival slipped beyond her control and began pouring out of her by the way of tears filling her eyes and her arms protectively being wrapping around the upper portion of her body.

“Why do you fear vulnerability? We all have it.”

“Because I don’t like people feeling sorry for me. It worsened shit when I was feeling sorry for myself.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you. I love and care about you. That’s not the same context. I’m quite sure that everyone else who showed up here because they love and care about you feels the same way. What happened at work?” She received me as I inched closer. Once I opened my palm, her hand slipped into mine and our fingers interlocked in our usual fashion.

“A headache. I woke up with it. It became a bit more intense as I was going over logistics for the Christmas party and I ended up tripping. I didn’t fall out like Isaac assumed. I felt a bit dizzy and I tripped. That’s how I fell and I hit my shoulder pretty hard on the floor.”

“You didn’t tell me you had a headache this morning.”

“Because it felt like a typical headache. I took Motrin before I left but they ended being ineffective. I get migraine headaches from time to time. This isn’t anything new.”

“And how do you feel now?”

“I feel alright. My shoulder has a bit of an ache but there’s no damage there or anything like that. I hit it on something. Any part of your body will hurt if that happens to it. They gave me a pill that’s already helping and I’m sure before I’m discharged from here, they’ll give me a shot like usual. We have been through this before.”

“And the CT?”

“Stupid. It’s not a TIA or a stroke, Dante.”

“Well let’s just get it done to be sure and walk out of here knowing there’s nothing to worry about. Can you do that for me? It’s one little test. I’ll go with you if you want. After that, we’re out of here. Alright?” Her hard exhale earned a laughter from me that only prompted her to roll her eyes and she eventually nodded her head to comply with the request.

“Thank you. When we get out of here, we’ll get that pizza.”

“To go, because I have to finished prepping a few things. I’m also making all of the desserts today.”

“Don’t you think you should take it easy on that shoulder?”

“I will, tomorrow when all the cooking is finished. Once that’s done, I don’t plan on doing anything else other than laying around and watching TV like I do every Thanksgiving once we’ve eaten and the laziness kicks in.”

“Oh. I meant to ask you, what’s in those bags that you bought in the house yesterday?” The innocent smirk that arose on her face after her eyes widened only caused me to narrow mine. As quickly as she arrived and sat down in my lap is as quickly as I forgot about the bags. I even walked past them on the way out this morning and never once thought to take a peak.

“Customized Christmas ornaments.”

“Oh man.” She has every intention to make it look like Christmas has thrown up in my apartment and there is absolutely nothing that I can or will do to stop her. The excitement she’s had in talking about it increases everyday and I’d be an asshole to rain on her parade. At least it’s not me doing it, because if were, that same small ass Christmas tree that Mike has a vendetta against would be sat out on the table and left as it is.

“You’re going to love it. I promise.”

“I’m not complaining. Do as you please.”

Though she attempted to hide it with the hospital gown covering her top half, I could see the bruise forming on her shoulder as the nurse wheeled her towards the elevator for the scan. Every few seconds, her impotent eyes would pan towards the left to see if I was still walking along side her for this process. Though I couldn’t go inside, I assured her that I’d be waiting outside and I did for the twenty minutes she lay inside of that machine. Her mood then went on a array of up and down emotions until we were presented with results that proved no abnormalities were found. As Autumn informed me before, they did give her a shot right in the upper area of her backside and a prescription for any further pain she may have with her head. The instructions for her shoulder were simple; ice and rest. Knowing Autumn, neither will happen. The concept of sitting still seems to go over my fiancee’s head and yet I can’t judge her because I’m still learning how to do so myself.

“You need to apologize to your brother.”

“Have I told you how handsome you look today? That grey is so sexy.” As I gently eased her black patent leather puffer coat over her shoulders, my lips curved in response to her obvious deflecting.

“He deserves the apology.”

“But…”

“Autumn.”

“Okay. Fine. I’ll apologize. You do look really handsome though. I didn’t say that to be slick.”

“Thank you. I’ll take those things there. Lets gets out of here.”

“Oh you don’t have to tell me twice.” As I grabbed her purse and the extended care packet the nurse left behind, she walked out ahead of me. By the time I’d gotten out into the hallway, I was left to keep up with her stride as she made her way towards the exit of the emergency room. She refused to even peak her head inside of the waiting room to alert anyone that all was fine and that it was time to go. She needed fresh air, but most of all, the reassurance in her being okay and not having to be imprisoned to a bed in such a place was her being able to walk out of those doors.

“Isaac and Lauren are sitting in the car having coffee. I decided to wait in here. I knew all would be well. There’s nothing wrong with a little bit more assurance.”

“Yeah, she’s fine. Why didn’t you come back to the room?” As I helped her pull her coat over her shoulders, she gave me a knowing smile though her facial expression held a seriousness in it that I didn’t understand.

“It was at this very hospital that I had to make decisions about her life that technically weren’t up to me. I reached out to Andreas and he did nothing. He did not come here and hold up his end of that in sickness and in health portion of his vows. Silas and I were left to handle everything. I know you love my daughter and have asked for her hand in marriage, but there is so much that comes with that and situations like this are exactly that. You will be her life partner, so when you arrived I excused myself because I wanted to began to find my own comfort in knowing that I can trust that you will be there for her.”

“For as long as there is breath in my body, I will be there for her.”

“Well, alright then. Lets get home because there is cooking to be done. Autumn tells me that you don’t really celebrate holidays, so I plan on making you change your mind about them. We always have a great time and with you now becoming an addition to the family, we have to show you how it’s done.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Are you making that cake that you shared with me on my birthday?”

“I am. I know you love cheesecake, so there will be a few options in that area. This and Christmas are the two days of year where we really overindulge on the desserts.”

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely looking forward to it now.” Her hand met my back during our laughter and she gave it a gentle pat.

“We’re so happy to have you Dante.”

“Here, take some of this too.”

Autumn unfolded her legs and crawled towards me with her plate so that I could give her half of the slice of cheesecake Stacey bought me. Somehow, we ended up sprawled out on her bedroom’s rug with a half pepperoni half cheese pizza being shared amongst us. Though the television was on, the volume was low enough for neither one of us to glance in it’s direction to check out whatever movie was playing on the HBO channel she left it on. Most of my attention was on her thighs as my grey shorts, that she somehow stole, loosely rode up on her thighs. The Columbia t-shirt covering her upper frame? Mine too. We would have been damn near identical twins in attire if I didn’t opt for a pair of sweatpants instead.

“Some interesting shit happened at work today. Stacey usually always buys me lunch whenever some aggravating shit is either going down or soon to go down. As soon as I saw that pasta and the cheesecake on my desk, I knew it had to be something.”

“Is everything alright? What was it?” Rather than scooting back to where she was, she lazily threw her legs over mine and leaned back against the frame of her bed for support.

“Richard found out about our engagement and began telling a lot of people about it. It got around the building enough for an intern to ask me about it. He was even telling people a date and promising invitations to people I wouldn’t even invite them to a birthday party of mine let alone my damn wedding.” Her eyes washed over me and yet they held no reluctance or resistance about what I revealed.

“You truly do not pay them any mind huh?”

“I don’t, but why do you ask?”

“Because both he and your brother try to do everything in their power to dig under your skin.”

“I’ve summed it up to them not knowing how to communicate in any other manner. Neither one of them understand how to hold a proper conversation with me nor do they desire to address the tension and elephant that is always in the room when we’re within each other’s presence, so it ends up being shit like what happened today. He felt like I was being spiteful by not telling him so his revenge was to do something he knew would make me uncomfortable and angry.”

“Can I ask you something?” After putting another folk full of the red velvet sweetness into her mouth, I nodded and remained silent so she could proceed with it.

“What is it going to take for some amending to begin? I know that it won’t happen overnight nor will it happen within a year but what will it take for just the beginning of it to start?” I’ve asked myself that question a number of times and each time I’ve come up with a different answer to satisfy my own needs. Initially, I’ve always had selfish thoughts of what needed to be done to accommodate myself and what I’ve been feeling over the course of my childhood and into my adulthood. I’ve considered how many apologies it’ll take, the genuine nature that needs to be involved, and the truths that I’ve yet to hear from any of them. As an adult I now realize that the complexities are far too extensive for it all to just be driven towards what I’ve felt and still am feeling. There are a number of hurt people involved and it all stems from different situations intertwined into a web of sin and bullshit. I’m not completely innocent in it either.

“The truth. Often times, people have this concept of wanting to move forward and put the past behind them. While that sounds good, I also see it as an escape route; a poor one at that. It’s simply people choosing to know that the skeletons are in the closet and making a conscious decision to not open the door. Eventually, someone will, whether it’s by a mistake or on purpose. I’m not the one running from it, they are. I’m not perfect but they have an issue when it comes to addressing their flaws and where they’ve gone wrong. How do you ever learn if you don’t acknowledge when you’re wrong? How can an apology ever be genuine if you can’t even admit or talk about what you’re apologizing for? That’s what I need. Ultimately, it doesn’t start with me. There has to be plenty of self realization before that can happen.”

“I understand where you’re coming from. Before you can amend anything with them, they need to look deep inside of themselves and come to terms with their own deep rooted issues.”

“Absolutely.”

“When do you want to get married?” That question caught me off guard, not because I haven’t been thinking about time frames, but mostly because I’m not sure how that correlates to this particular conversation. “I’ve been giving it some thought and I’ve considered this up and coming summer, somewhere around your birthday since it’s at the very end of August or maybe in September. It’s either that or we wait until maybe the Spring of following year.”

“It’s funny that you mention August because I was thinking of the same month. The nineteenth.” A smile arose at our similar thoughts.

“I was thinking the twenty sixth but I like the sound of the nineteenth better for some reason.” As my fingers slowly trailed up the skin of her thigh, trails of goosebumps began to follow my fingers and infectiously caused a round to trickle onto the nape of my neck. Just the feel of her skin takes me over the edge. “I love you and I want you be comfortable so do you want to do something small? Maybe we can have a civil union at the courthouse and some kind of a small celebration after with a few of the people that we love until everything is better with your family.”

“Autumn.”

“It’s not like I’d be doing it without my family knowing this time and I wouldn’t exclude them either. It’s our union and I want it to be fair. I don’t mind waiting until you’re ready in that particular area either. I don’t want you to have any regrets or to ever reflect back and think about how much you actually did want them there.”

“Fair for me is having the wedding that neither one of us have ever had. I’m not giving that up for anything or anyone. That’s not a sacrifice that I’m willing to make because there’s no true purpose for it. Why would you ever want to cheat yourself out of that? I want to see you in some of your designs and I’d like to be waiting for you at the top of an alter. I want to see your favorite flowers all over the place and to have a reception that is the best party of the year. After that’s all said and done, I want us to get on that jet and fly to wherever we want on this planet to celebrate our nuptials. That’s fair. I can give you that. Can you give it to me?”

“Of course I can.”

“Thank you.” Our lips met for a soft kiss and her palm traced by face, not in sympathy, but in a reassurance that I have her and we’re in everything together. Much like I am ready and willing to protect her at all costs, I know it is no different on her end.

“You have to promise me something though.”

“Anything.”

“I’d like for you to at least crack the door so that your mom can begin to make her way back into your heart. I am not nor will I ever dismiss how you feel and what you have gone through, but I do know that you love her. The love you have for her is why you’re so disappointed. I know you may not believe it but I see some good in her and she loves you. Just try it and see what happens. Don’t be so resistant all the time. Little by little, okay?”

In choosing her to be my life partner, I expect her to challenge me because Autumn within herself is a challenge that I’m still happily learning and maneuvering through day by day. If anything, I believe that she came into my life for that purpose aside from giving me love and companionship. Without being overbearing, she has changed my perspective on plenty and has broadened my experiences. I’m not surprised by this request and though I wish I could just shrink up and refute all the reasons why she believes this needs to be, I won’t. Not only will she not accept stagnant growth from me but I refuse to accept it from myself.

“Okay. Little by little.”

“Thank you.” A sharp exhale oozed out of my mouth as she straddled my lap and my body fell back the further she pushed herself down. Had this been happening on the marble flooring of my apartment, her clothes would have been halfway off by now but a peak of nervousness caused my eyes to pan back and forth between her breathtaking beauty and the closed yet unlocked door. Her irresistible nature would absolutely be the cause of me taking such a wild risk and yet I don’t want to scar anyone for life nor do I need the heads of this household viewing me in a negative light because I’ve lost all control with their daughter within their home.

“You know where we are right?” The softness of her lips meshed into mine and in that moment a sense of peace washed over every aspect of me. The warmth of her hands cupping my face made me aware of reality and yet the feel of her lips intertwined with mine began to draw me to that euphoria that I only experience with her.

“Move in with me.” The request was met with the shaking of her head and an endearing peck to simmer down yet another slightly disappointing blow to a question I’ve been asking since the proposal.

“Move in with me.” The more my hands roamed, the more she shuttered to my touch. Her eyes clenched tightly at the unintentional rolling of my hips. Maybe it was intention. Okay, it was.

“Please.”

“No.” A kiss to my forehead was followed by a kiss on the very tip of my nose. Kisses all over my face are my alarm clock when we’re in bed without responsibilities awaiting us.

“Well let me get you an apartment.”

“No.” With my arm locked around her waist, I used enough weight to flip us over and the wince that followed halted every action that I wanted to follow. “My bad. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s just sore. I’m cool.” My kisses were geared towards her shoulder and they remained there as we basked in a much needed silence after the pressures of the morning and early afternoon.

“Why are you so stubborn?” Her laughter and the playful rolling of my eyes had my attention, but the manner in which she wrapped her thighs around my waist distracted my thoughts from the conversation which was her intention in the first place. She claims it’ll make sense to move in together once we’re officially heading out West and it’ll be a fresh start in our new home as man and wife, but who cares about all of that? It’ll still be a fresh start either way.

“Autumn, are you…” The door swung up with no knock or regard and a nearly mortified Lauren is what we were met with. Her eyes bulged open as far as they were capable of going and her lips fell apart to deepen the expression. Though rendered to speechlessness, the amusement arising within her facial expression was noticeable. I may even be able to chuckle at this. Had we been without the layers covering more than just our intimate portions, not so much.

“Never mind, sorry for interrupting.” As swiftly as she opened the door is as swiftly as it closed behind her. Autumn’s lack of amusement is what worsened my own. In our maneuvering to get off of the floor, I could hear the snide remark she made about her sister-in-law’s supposedly intentional barging in. No matter how many times I ask her about it, I still don’t understand what their underlying issues stems from.

“I’m going to head downstairs before Lauren snitches on me.”

“Why would she do that? I think you have it out for her for no reason baby.” Her eyebrow flew up while she eyed me and I just about shrunk under that all too familiar expression of disdain. I pity anyone who has to stand under the scrutiny of she and her mother doing it simultaneously.

“Because she’s always in my business and I don’t know why. I don’t ask her anything about hers, but she could not keep her nose out of my mine when I was going through everything I was going through with that man. Though she did it with the guise of being family, I still think it was for the sake of her own entertainment. Because she felt like she saved Isaac from himself and his demons, she probably figured she could save me from my own. It’s that plus that goody two shoes nature about her. Like just now for example. Girl, you’re pregnant. You stood there staring at us in shock though we’re fully clothed, meanwhile you’re walking around with a gut full of human which is pure evidence that my brother has been blowing your back out nightly. Is anyone staring at her mortified about it?”

“Why are you making it so deep?” The aggravation in her tone was hilarious. I don’t even think she dislikes Lauren. They’re polar opposites and it is that aspect of their dynamic that Autumn clings to as a means to force a dislike that isn’t there.

“It’s not just that. She picks and chooses when to stay her lane and I don’t like that either. That’s how all of those churchy chicks act.” My refusal to stop laughing earned a light mush to my head. If anyone else heard what she just explained, they’d be laughing too. “I’ll be downstairs. You’re going to stay in here and watch TV?”

“Yeah. I’ll probably take a nap too. I’ll be down later. Are you going to be nice to your sister?”

“Dante.”

“Be nice.��

“I’m always nice.”

“And apologize to your brother.”

“I will.”

I knew she will because she valued his speech he dedicated to her at the birthday dinner. Complete healing won’t happen over night, but thus far, they’re in a much better place and communicate more often than they were before. From what she’s been telling me, since then, they even gel better at work. If I can be apart of salvaging the relationship between those two than so be it. With the loss of Shane, they need one another more than they realize it.

I can’t remember the last time I had a slight hang over and I know for sure I’ve never experienced one on Thanksgiving Eve and yet I’ve just thrown back two Motrin out of a bottle I found in Autumn’s medicine drawer and I’m silently praying that they do the job. The nap I took was only a reset for what was to come. After peaking my head into the kitchen and being yelled at by every single woman occupying it, I quickly learned that there is a system to the holidays and I had to get in line or have my head ripped off. While the women do the cooking, the men stay out their way and hang downstairs in Silas’ man cave. Good ol’ soul music, cigars, beers, and rounds of card games is the tradition and I quickly earned a spot at the table. The mix of the older and younger men wasn’t a clash but instead, turned out to be great conversation and lessons that I can’t learn from anywhere else. Whether it was politics, sports, cars, life, and the women we’re all in love with, we shared back and forth banter, laughter, and advice that I’ll never forget. It just about felt like moments that I’ve occasionally witnessed on a television show, but better. Had Lillian not chased us all to bed as the sun began to creep up into the sky, I’m almost sure we would have all still been down there laughing and jokingly yelling about the card games.

“Did you get any sleep at all?” We spoke briefly while I was on my way up here to come to bed but I never felt her join me at any particular point. Because she’s often times a night owl and will creep out of the bed in the middle of the night due to restlessness, I’ve gotten accustom to sensing when she’s not there. The last I remember seeing her is when I was on my way upstairs to get in the bed and she told me she’d be up after she finished putting icing on a cake. That never happened. Even when I woke up, she wasn’t here.

“I fell asleep on the couch for a few hours. I did it on purpose. If I would have gotten in the bed, I probably would have fell into a deep sleep so I laid across the couch so that I could wake up in time to watch the Macy’s parade. Shane and I would watch it every year.” I looked on as she applied some type of make up product under her eyes, down the bridge of her nose, in-between her nose and upper lip, and then right on her lower chin.

“What is that?” I have absolutely nothing against make up. If it’s something that she or any woman wants to wear than so be it. She’s stunning with or without it. I’ve just never watched her put it on and the process seems like one hell of a task. I barely like to shave on my own.

“Concealer. I’m sleep deprived and I certainly look like I am, so this is going to help that. It’s the cure. All you need to do is use some concealer and it’ll brighten things up while getting rid of any signs of exhaustion.”

“You went to sleep after everyone else did, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did. Maybe an hour or two later. I couldn’t really sleep anyway.”

“Are you okay?” As she patted away at her face, her words continued to nonchalantly flow from her glossed lips. Though her tone wasn’t insulting or dismissive, it lacked the normal enthusiasm she has when we speak. While slouching forward so that she could get a good look at herself in the mirror, she paused and thought about an answer.

“Yeah.”

“I’m really appreciative of you inviting me to come and hang out here for Thanksgiving. Usually I kick it at home and Stacey will bring me a plate whether she cooked at home or is having dinner at someone’s house. It’s not that I don’t understand the concept of spending time with family, but I really got a different experience hanging around your dad, Isaac, your uncles, and your cousins Eric and Austin. We had a blast, honestly.” Our eyes briefly met as she patted various places on her face over and over again with some kind of an egg shaped sponge. The smile that I’d been seeking out for about an hour or so finally arose on her face.

“Did you think I was going to leave you home by yourself? If you didn’t come here, I was going to come to you. I’m glad that you enjoyed yourself though. No one should be alone on days that are all about family. I don’t think anyone should be alone at all, but especially not on days like this. Despite our personalities and ways of life, we all need people. I am your family now which then means that my family is yours. So, you belong here just like anyone else does.”

“I think it’s going to be awesome when we’re able to host holiday gatherings in our home.”

“We have to do it in London sometimes. I’d love that so much. I know Thanksgiving may not be a traditional holiday there, but Christmas is. I love being at your London place.”

“We can do that. If you love it there so much, we can spend time there more often. There isn’t anything I can do here that I can’t do at the London office.”

“I’d love that. It feels like a getaway and yet still feels like I’m at home. It’s rare for me to feel that way. I certainly didn’t experience that in Miami. I always felt like I was out of place…and in the long run, I guess I found out that I was.”

“You weren’t out of place. He was. You were trying to build a home and he was bullshitting.”

“Yeah, but I was in the wrong for even trying to in the first place. I had all the signs that he didn’t want it and ignored them for the sake of my emotions and selfish needs. I have to take some responsibility. We both screwed up, just in different ways. I have a lot to learn when it comes to the whole wife thing. Bare with me.”

“You really don’t give yourself enough credit. I don’t have to bare with anything. If anyone’s lucky here, it’s me.”

“Lucky huh?”

“I am. I’m a very lucky man.” Though I opted for a simple beige colored Ralph Lauren sweater and blue cargo slacks, Autumn decided to be as glamorous as she usually is for the indoor festivities. She didn’t let being in the comfort of her home stop her from donning a short Fendi navy blue wool dress that not only looked amazing on her, but also had this youthful look to it that compliment her young face. The baby blue boots she paired with it were eye catching as they hugged on her thighs. Though loud in color, they worked and still fit in with the fall season. I’m not quite sure how she’s making them work, but it’s Autumn and I’ve learned that she can pull off anything she wants.

“You look amazing.”

“Thank you. You do too. Can we stay at your place tonight?”

“For what?”

“Because your hands off approach while here isn’t going to work for me much longer. I’m deprived.” My laughter was loud enough for anyone to hear if they were walking by. She’s not the only one. I had to give myself a mental pat on the back for the restraint I had while on that floor yesterday. The temptation was a bitch.

“Deprived? It’s only been, what, a few hours over twenty four? We were all over the shower yesterday morning.”

“We could have been all over the shower a little while ago too.”

“We’re at your parents’ house.”

“There’s always the car.” As she placed her make up brush down, she turned to face me. The knots already forming in the pit of my stomach intensified at the sight of her legs crossing. “Maybe a little backseat action?”

“That’s what you want?” Though she wasn’t within reach for my hand to reach her, I still learned forward and that alone made her flinch. It’s exactly what I wanted. She couldn’t be the only one teasing in this room.

“I don’t care where it happens. Just make it happen.”

“I got you.”

“Okay.”

She took an additional ten minutes on her make up and joined me towards the edge of the bed for selfies to send to Heather who was already sharing her own from Miami. It was the first year she was having her parents and in laws come together for a holiday with her being the host. Had she not done it that way, Autumn assured me that she would have made her way over here after having dinner with her family and then she’d go over to the Daniels household for leftovers the very next day. Her life in Miami changed that but much like everyone and everything else, adjustments are being made to bring those traditions back and to create some new ones.

I didn’t expect more people to be joining us, but Autumn’s godmother and her family arrived to fill up the few spaces left at the dining room table. Overnight, Autumn changed the whole entire ambiance of the dining room to reflect the spirit and color scale of the holiday. The way she’d done it reminded me of the shows my mother enjoys on HGTV. The floral arrangements and satin cloth made it look like something out of a catalog and yet the names on the placement cards and the messages inside of them maintained the personal aspect of it. Her attention to detail is absurdly incredible.

The food, my God, the food. They’d made enough to fill the entire table plus an additional table on the other side of the room. There were desserts that haven’t even made it out of the kitchen. Though Lillian lead grace, the most endearing part about it is everyone going around the room and announcing what they’re thankful for. Though I know everyone at the table believes in God’s blessings, but if someone didn’t, I know they would have felt something right then and there. In hearing the way they included Shane and gave thanks for his life, though it was taken away from them, an outsider would have understand what faith is and how meaningful it will always be.

In being apart of this, I cannot allow my children to have anything less. I refuse to be the reason that negativity affects their emotional growth by not exposing them to what a healthy family is and what that type of dynamic is supposed to function like. While nothing is ever perfect and everything has it’s issues and faults, the capability to come to together and make sure the ship keeps sailing is what matters most. I need them to understand what it means to have a network of people who you can depend on and share your life with. In understanding what family is, they’ll know to only befriend people who makes them feel just as accepted, appreciated, and loved. I want the photo albums filled with holiday memories and the stories we’ll reminisce on while sitting around a fireplace. I want there to come a day when my grandchildren are running around our home on a day like this while Autumn and I are blamed for them being spoiled rotten. I want this not only for me, but for my friends who are my family and the people I am closest too. How this feels is not only important but it’s an essential to life. Whether the relationship I have with my parents and my brother heals in an impactful way or not, I have to heal on my own for the sake of my well being and the family that I’m soon to have. I can’t have any of this without it.

“Lillian, you’re finally joining me in the grandma club. I’m elated about it.” Larissa reached over for Lauren’s belly and softly ran her hand over it’s slightly budding surface. She and Issac’s baby has been a hot topic around the table and the joys of all of the festivities that comes before a childbirth have been shared in ideas that will eventually come to fruition. Though it didn’t feel like being in a hot seat, a number of questions came my way though most were professional related more so than person, aside from one or two questions about my upbringing. There was only person in the room who hadn’t opened their mouth once throughout the entire dinner and it was Autumn. There were instances when I’d observe her closely listening to whoever had something to share and then there were moments when the egg shell colored wall seemed to draw her in more than anyone else. Though she opted out of dessert, she exercised curtesy and waited for me to finish mine so that I wouldn’t be at the table without her.

“What’s bothering you?” A cool wind gusted through the crisp Thanksgiving air and swarmed our slightly shivering bodies as I did my best to mesh us together for the sake of sharing warmth. Though the weather isn’t brutal, it’s certainly chilly enough for light coats and neither one of us opted to put one on when walking out of the door. She’d been out here first, standing to the left side of the door post and taking in some much needed fresh air. Me? After looking for her upstairs, my next bet was to seek her outside.

“I just miss him.” Her shoulders sunk in the midst of my embrace and I caught a glimpse of the grimace adorning her face as she glanced upward. Luminous stars emerged amid the ocean of blackness occupying the skies in a complimentary manner for the half moon that cascaded its faint rays upon our frames. The beauty of it held our attention.“I don’t question God’s decisions. Even when I was going through hell, I took it as a so be it type of thing. But Shane? I don’t understand that decision and though it is not for me to understand, I try to everyday.”

“I don’t believe Shane would want you feeling like this.”

“I know. If he were here right now, he would have told me to get over myself while stuffing his face with banana pudding. Sometimes I just want to talk to him. I miss that more than anything else.”

“I understand.” I think of my uncle Harry in the same manner that she does her brother. Though I am relieved that he is no longer dealing with the suffering that ultimately lead to his death, I do feel a void without him. Both Autumn and I have lost the relatives who felt like mentors and great friends more than anything else.

“Did you enjoy dinner?”

“Excuse my language but you and your mom can cook y'all asses off.” Light giggles followed the more than deserved compliment. I’m already contemplating what I’m going to have when I go for seconds.

“Thank you. I’m tired after all of that. Once I take a shower, I know I’m going to sleep damn good.”

“Yeah, you need it. How about you go start that shower and I come up and tuck you in?”

“Tuck me in? Sounds like you’re not going to bed any time soon.”

“I have to meet up with Mike about something important. I won’t be long. You know he’s not that far from here.”

“Okay. Well go ahead and do that. You don’t have to wait around for me to get into the shower but I have some cleaning to do before that happens. I’ll be up when you get back.”

“And then we’ll do hot chocolate and a movie?” We’ve done that a number of times since the fall weather has trickled in and it’s always a nice and quiet evening for the two of us.

“With some pie. Sounds like a plan.”

“It’s a date then.” Her supple lips gently pressed into my own for an endearing kiss.

“It’s a date.”

The sound of the Spalding ball thrashing against the acrylic surfacing served as music to my ears and eventually glee within my form as the ball went swooshing through the hoop as I landed yet another shot from the three point line. Despite the time, I had no fear of an issue happening while I tossed around a ball in this upscale park. We’ve come out here to play a number of times and I don’t believe I’ve seen more than two or three people with some pigment to their skin. Despite the wealth gap that I am apart of, witnessing the isolation and investment people with fortunes put into making sure their children are separated from inner city kids is why I continuously donate money to organizations like the Boys and Girls Club. If these people can have nice parks, courts, and fields for their offspring, why can’t everyone else? If only people understood how many lives can be saved with the simplest task of implementing something for the youth have fun with and by showing them that you actually give a damn. I can be doing more and I will. I’m tired of hearing about blood being shed and people losing their lives before they can even began to fully live them.

“Yo.”

“Ay man.” He too was bundled up and the boots he chose to wear were a clear sign he had no intention to play basketball. I didn’t either technically, but why not shoot around and get some of the food off while I waited?

“Happy Thanksgiving HI-LIGHTER.”

“Same to you punk ass.” We dapped and our usual embrace followed. A dap for friendship and an embrace of brotherhood.

“I need you to look at this.” He didn’t hesitate to flip the folder open and lay it into my hands. The cool air suddenly turned into a merciless frost as a frenzy of pickling sparked by my nerves eventually diminished to nothingness. The skin of my chest tightened in defense of my heart, as it thrashed against the cage of my chest, and filled my ears with its’ plea.

“I have some people in high places looking further into some other shit but the question is what are you going to do? I never question these favors and I never will. As a lawyer, I can get disbarred for this. As a brother, I need to know what the fuck are you going to do?”

“I need a favor.”

“What?” His frown intensified at the all too familiar words. “I already told you that I have people on it.”

“For Autumn. It’s important to me. Please.”

The rustling of the trees filled the air with melancholy. Our eyes spoke louder than any words could ever be.

“I know, which it is why I’ve already taken care of it. It’s going to be alright. You’ll be alright.”

Whether that last statement will uphold as the truth or not, when it’s all said and done, I can sleep well knowing that she will be.

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