#right here? this exchange? log this one there is an outside chance

[swan2swan]

Kid just wanted to make her feel better.

[idiaa-shroxd]

THE PREFECT’S CAT CAFE ꒱ ❝ dormleaders. ❞

SUMMARY: after an off-handed comment made by Idia, you find yourself taking what he said into genuine consideration. instead of just bringing some cats into your guest room though, why not find a way to have both cats and profits while being comfy?

warnings; gn!reader x dormleaders. long post. the keep reading line may repeat a bit of text, but please continue reading if it does. inspired by this video. by interacting with this post you agree you’ve read through my navigation and i hold no responsibility for the content you view. part i. part ii. part iii.

PROLOGUE.

“Are you really sure about this, Henchman?” Grim asks, crossing his arms as he huffs, jealousy laced in his voice. He was used to your occasional strange idea, but he considered something to be sincerely wrong with you at the moment if you thought bringing other stray cats into his territory were a smart idea, not to mention the way you were cuddling them and scratching their bellies. Where did you even find this many cats? Did you make a deal with Azul?

Puffing your cheek slightly, you ignore your cat’s comment while putting the collar on the last one. “Do you want to have fancy tuna?” You reply, fixing the collar’s bow as you smile at your hard work. “You’re not believing in me, Grim. This is an untapped market potential, in case you forgot we have a whole dorm here at school dedicated to gamers and introverts practically. And you know what they like? Cats and silence!” You tell him as you look at your array of cats.

You’d found yourself surprised that Professor Trein actually entertained your question if he knew where to find cats on sage island, even more so when Crowley eventually relented to letting you keep a few cats in exchange for not bringing up the fact you’ve been through how many overblots against him for awhile. This was a chance you could not lose. “There’s cat cafe’s in my world with relatively simple rules and a quiet atmosphere. We simply need to make it a reality, and lucky for us we have a magical furniture tool and an investor.” You say, getting up from the chair and walking toward your little notebook to check off another item off the list.

“You have an investor?” He asked, not quite believing you as he raised a brow. Hearing his disbelief you chuckle a little, pointing your pen at a corner of the room to which he jumps in surprise, letting out a shock ‘nyagh!’ “Idia has been here for the past two hours, ever since I told him what I was going to do. I don’t know how or why he has money, but he has it and that’s enough for me.” You say, Grim still surprised he hadn’t notice Idia once in well over two hours. He still wasn’t convinced on your plan, but if it got him tuna and money, your plan surely can’t be that bad?

HEARTSLABYUL. riddle rosehearts.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS.

“Are there any rules I need to follow while I’m here?” Riddle asks, a little antsy as it were his first time in a room with so many cats before. It were against the queen’s rules to bring cats to a formal affair, but this wasn’t too formal, it were a cafe. And you did get explicit permission from the headmage so indulging in you just a tiny bit wouldn’t hurt, right? With a laugh, you point in the direction of one of the walls with the rules on display next to a signed plaque from the headmaster giving his approval to your whims.

“The rules are really simple. No forcing or disturbing the cats, do not go around picking them up, do not let them have your drinks, and refrain from running around and making too much noise. Outside drinks, food, and shoes are not permitted for sanitary reasons. You can only feed the cats treats sold by the prefect or in the gacha machines, and you have to log in which cat you’ve fed to ensure one cat doesn’t get particularly overweight.” You read off the board the rundown as he nodded, determined to follow the rules. As he stepped inside your now transformed guest room, his eyes sparkled as one of the cats immediately begun purring at him. Perhaps a cat cafe truly wasn’t too bad a place.

Riddle was really weary of your little project when you first told him about it. He really stopped lecturing you after you explained you had all the proper permission and even an investor. He had no idea who on campus would help you with this, but after hearing it were Idia he thought that maybe you were actually a bit more serious than he realized about your cat cafe plans. He takes awhile to convince to actually come, but after maybe seeing a picture you text him of the kitties with the caption, “I want Riddle to play with me!” he concedes ever so slightly into your demands.

His eyes light up in genuine happiness as little cats meow at his feet. His only other real experience with cats was Grim as his mother would not let him near them, but now he understands what the appeal to cats is about. They’re all so soft and he may use an occasional toy, but he also gets to hear their affection purrs as they nudge him nearly making him forget why he was so angry just ten minutes prior when he was collaring a student again. He isn’t a regular since he’s busy, but whenever you happen to ask he tries to make time, only because you’ve asked him to or his dorm members ask him to visit, not because he’s succumbed to being a cat person, he says, lying through his teeth.

His favorite cat is a Queendom of Roses (British) shorthair with pure dark grey fur and orange-yellow eyes. He wasn’t too sure how to act around the cats but this one plopped it’s chubby body onto his lap while nipping at his hand demanding to be pet while meowing right to his face and Riddle could not say no to that face. The cat is not as furry as the others and he quite prefers that, less hair to clean off of his clothes. He thought he would of preferred a less demanding cat, but Sesame is very calming and distracting for his anger. He at some point also noticed cat collar’s slightly changing and asked you about it.. and you found a gift from him, more specifically Sesame received a gift. His previous yellow collar replaced with a higher quality rose-red collar with white outlines of rose petals engravings. Now instead of a silent bell he had a rose attached to the front of the collar, and at the back of the collar was a bow designed to resemble leaf petals.

Absolutely plays favorites, he’s still a bit weary for long haired cats to approach him but won’t tell them to go away, and he always feels guilty if he pets a cat that is not Sesame. He would be willing to buy cat popsicles and cat treats on occasion but tries not to overly them as he knows you’re trying to not get them to be overweight and stay within a healthy range. He’s also able to get some work done when he visits, though not too often as his cat takes up most of his time and does not like him to share his attention with his paperwork, deliberately plopping down onto the paper if he deems he has not received enough attention. You could probably get away with asking him a single stupid question while he is relaxed. Only one, so use that question wisely.

Overall is a good guest since he keeps quiet to himself and his cat, and if he’s talking he’s really quiet about it since he respects your rules. He follows every single one to heart, not only that but also makes sure other guests are taking it to heart as well.

SAVANACLAW. leona kingscholar.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR.

“Shut up, herbivore.” The beastmen hissed as you tried to hide your overly smug expression. “I haven’t even said anything yet, Kingscholar.” You tease as he opens one of his eyes and snarls at you in a nonthreatening manner, one hand running through his hair as the other runs his fingers through the fur of the sleeping cat on his chest, unable to stop you from taking pictures without disturbing said cat.

“Aren’t you two adorable?” You can’t help but snicker as you snap another photo of the annoyed beastman. You were definitely going to post this on your magicam story when you were free. Distracted by your phone, you fail to notice his ears twitching ever so slightly as he looks away from you, his face just a little bit darker in color than before as he shuts his eyes, going back to sleep.

Leona had no interest in being friendly with a bunch of strays you brought in from who knows where. He actually laughed in your face the first time you offered him some coupon to your cat cafe, he had no interest being near rowdy students. That was until he had the most annoying day alive, a conversation twice with Malleus in a single hour and he used you as his stress relief, nearly knocking you onto the floor as he plopped onto you after following you into your cat cafe.

No one else was there as you hadn’t opened, and he understood the appeal. The room wasn’t overcool with regulated temperatures perfect for a cat, with dim lighting and soft music. You even had different parts of your cafe for different guests as you place him onto one of the longer sofas, finally getting him off of you as you poor him a drink and listen to his complaint. At some point he had a group of cats just laying on him and purring against him and snuggling and he’s fallen asleep, not waking up until you inform him you’re closing for the night, and not to move too abruptly with the cat still sleeping on his chest.

His favorite cat had claimed him during their first fateful encounter, being a persian breed. The cat is very fluffy with creamy white fur and golden eyes, enjoying swaying her tail against Leona’s nose and kneading at his chest, arms, feet, wherever she gets her paws on. She does not enjoy being disturbed but does enjoy the occasional pet and spends most of her time just napping with Leona and pawing at him. He claims the cat is noisy every once in awhile but he can be seen petting her with one hand as the other shields his eyes as he lays down, letting her purr against him. He flat out told you he was replacing her stupid black collar with a new one, a brown silk collar that’s just a tad bit loose, with a few golden engravings and a beautiful bow on the back in a lighter brown and golden moons. Nebula also gets cat popsicles every once in awhile that he gets Ruggie to buy from you.

He is used to a bunch of different cats crawling over him as they seem to naturally approach him, and he’s very smug about that to Malleus, but he does have his favorite. Nebula is his number one cat and he will pick her up even though you have a no disturbing the cats rule and he will place her beside him as he has a drink as he lays down in his unofficial spot while she climbs atop him and goes to take a nap. He’s not jealous but he just does not allow other people to touch his cat is all. Whenever you come over to bring him a drink he’s trying to pull you down and shamelessly puts an arm around you as you ignore his clinginess and return back to your cats and cafe. May use a cat toy on occasion but not when you are watching because you get a stupid grin and ask him if he feels like pawing at the toy and he tries not to leave you on a street corner.

Overall a horrible guest but a decent guest. He definitely does not follow every rule and acts grumpy but he’s very quiet except the occasional snore. He will also take a very long time to leave because you need to scratch his ears because he’s not “fully awake”. But in terms of cat parenting he’s a pretty good guest.

OCTAVINELLE. azul ashengrotto.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO.

“So… do you still want to complain?” You ask, raising a brow as you stare at the bespectacled boy with a smug grin. He swore that there was zero charm to a cat cafe and that you stole his business from him just two weeks ago, but now he had a cup of coffee between his fingers sitting on the sofa with his eyes closed, a purring cat on his lap with documents on the table spread out as he worked. Azul’s face flustered a slight tint of red as he let out a small cough much to your and the twin’s amusement.

“That was the past, prefect. We found a way to make this arrangement mutual benefitting now, no need to bring up old problems.” He tries to sound professional as you snicker. Two weeks ago was not really a distant past, but you did work thing out. “Whenever you want a refill just let me know, I’ll leave you guys alone for now, I’ve got more to do.” You say, deciding not to tease the octomer further as you retreat back into the kitchen, leaving him to be teased by his two ‘friends’.

Azul had stormed into your establishment one day with a single goal in mind, to figure out how you had stolen his business. He came perplexed, how were you allowed cats on campus? Where did you get the money for renovation? Who was your supplier? Most importantly why did everyone favor the prefect’s cat cafe over the Monstro Lounge with quality service and quality food?

He had sat you down trying to be scary but you ended up putting him. You had offered him a proposal of a collaboration. If anyone orders a special item off the Monstro Lounge menu that day before coming into your cafe they’d be eligible to receive a little something from your cafe for free such as a cat popsicle or an extra thirty minutes added onto their time. He was weary at first but people came to the Monstro Lounge as though they were giving away free money as they came in groups. You both benefitted from this as you did not want food near your kitties that weren’t for them as that posed health and safety issues. He doesn’t know how but he also finds himself on occasion coming to your cafe during breaks as it was surprisingly calming despite his absolute hatred for these innocent cats when he originally entered.

His favorite cat is a Queendom of Roses (British) longhair with dark orange-esque fur with a fluffy white front and light blue eyes. He has no clue as to how but somehow this cat became his favorite as he purred against Azul’s shoes, nudging at him before eventually crawling into his lap. The cat makes little disturbance as Azul works, the purring soothing the octomer as he finishes up, occasionally finding his sleeves being tugged at when Butterscotch declares he’s been working enough by demanding pats. Butterscotch has also found himself on the end of receiving a lot of cat popsicles recently, and a collar upgrade. His collar went from a plain leathery texture to some high quality collar blue collar with tentacle engravings, and a sea patterned bowtie at the front of the collar, the center being a pretty shell.

He entertains other cats but keeps an eye out for his favorite, always reserving his lap space just for him. He mainly spends his time at the cafe after a large rush or when he has time off to work in the silence with his cat instead of the silence of his office. He actually finds himself working a lot faster in your cafe than all alone and he gets free refills on his coffee, so technically he is profiting than if he used his own supply, he justifies to himself. When he finishes work he may on occasion be found talking to you attempting to flirt poorly as you remain oblivious as he has no interest in manga or gaming. May occasionally be found brushing his favorite kitty’s fur and telling him he is going to become fat like he once was then still feeding him the treat regardless because he is very polite.

Overall is a very good guest as long as he has his kitty. Gets a bit antsy if he has to spend his time without his favorite as though he had been replaced but does not cause a scene or whine. Please make sure before you close he gets to squish his cat’s paw and knows he has not been replaced with a different cat dad.

SCARABIA. kalim al-asim.

KALIM AL-ASIM.

“Aha, prefect! Could I have another cat treat, please?” Kalim pleaded with you as you shake your head, doing your best at giving the puppy eyed dorm leader a firm no. He already had two today, that was enough. “But look at Taffy, she’s starving!” He says as you raise a brow, staring at the cat that was getting plumper by the day.

“Kalim, I love you like my actual child but no more. She’s even eating the other cat’s leftovers now at lunch time.” You scold the boy as he apologizes and pleads he will stop after maybe just one more treat as you sigh, putting your foot down and eyeing Jamil pleadingly who only pretends he can’t see you as he plays with his cat. “I’ll even pay four times the amount!” He said, pouting as you shook your head, ready to dive into the same discussion you’ve had with him the past three days.

Two hours, that is how long it took for Kalim to hear about your business venture and ask, beg, you to let him see. Apparently Idia had told Ortho who told the board game club members and word got around to Cater and Cater told him and Lilia and now he was bouncing off the walls in excitement with Jamil in tow. He was already prepared to meet the kitties and Jamil said it was okay so could you please go now? When he hears that there’s rules to follow he listens intently and follows them as best as he can remember, but he’s just so excited about the cats and trying your drinks! Also looking at the interior and more. Wait you also have gaming pcs and manga? He has to check those out too! His hyperactiveness could not be contained and you were a little concerned for the cats.

You were right to assume Kalim could not be contained for more than two seconds as he pspspspss at all of the kitties, toy in both hands as he was already playing with them, cats crawling on his lap and nudging at him, biting at him playfully and surrounding him as he held a cat popsicle out towards them, talking your’s and Jamil’s ears off about how fluffy and wonderful of a place this is. He had to tell every single person in his dorm about it, and his family, and people from other dorms as well, this was the greatest place on campus so far! Do you also need help buying the cat food or anything? He’d be willing to be another investor in a heartbeat but Jamil talks him out of it, partially. His favorite thing is official a cat in his lap as he drinks your own tea brew that he gifted you from his country… which may cost more than your entire life.

His favorite cat is a maine coon with black fur and green eyes. This cat has the world’s finest at her fingertips if she just meows. Kalim knows it’s wrong to pick favorites but he can’t deny that she is his favorite when she headbutts his chin and meows at him for minutes at a time even if he’s petting her. She’s extremely fluffy and starting to become pudgier but he doesn’t mind that as he gets her more treats. Her pink collar has long since been discarded as she now has a full wardrobe, but her collar is now the finest white silk and handmade embroidery with real gemstones and solid gold for the silent bell. Even the bow on the back of the collar is large and beautiful, she’s worth more than the students that actually visit the cafe and you hope you aren’t robbed.

Kalim does play favorites but also doesn’t. Things are very clear he has a favorite cat but he will play with any and every cat that approaches him. He respects your do not disturb the cat rule, really, but he just really wants to pet every single kitty. He always says he wants to try one of the pcs but ends up forgetting as he works on his homework failing to pay attention while petting Taffy and giving her kisses and then eventually falling asleep because he’s all tired out. He has read a few of the mangas but he reads it to Taffy specifically and Jamil has to remind him to be quiet for your other guests. He may have also asked his family to visit your cafe so you may be visited by one of the world’s richest couple in the future when the campus opens for outside guests.

Overall a great guest for the cats but a nightmare for you as he looks like a sad puppy when you refuse to let him buy treats. Also occasionally forgets and makes a loud noise when he enters and sees his favorite cat, and he can be a little distracting because he can’t sit still for too long at times.

POMEFIORE. vil schoenheit.

VIL SCHOENHEIT.

“When in Twisted Wonderland did this happen..?” You mutter to yourself as you brewed another cup of tea for Vil using the brand he specifically gave you for himself when he visited. He was adamantly refusing to even set foot in your guest room after hearing what you had done, but now Rook was taking a photo of him elegantly sitting down in one of your lounge chairs with a cat on his lap, purring loudly looking at the camera as though she understood how to pose and was a natural born model.

You bring the tea over to his table as he thanks you, lifting the cup and saucer elegantly as Rook takes a photo, already singing praises on how great it would look on his magicam as Vil looks confidently smug. You couldn’t believe this all happened just because Rook had said something about Neige and how cute it would be for a boy like him to be surrounded by cats. “Thank you for your patronage.” You say with a small smile on your lips, amused. Well at least a happy Vil is free promotion for your business on campus.

Vil was happy for you, really, but he was not going to visit the cat cafe even if you pleaded by his feet and rose someone from beyond this mortal realm to drag him in. That was until he heard Rook talking to you and Epel about how Neige would surely be so beautiful surrounded with cats and you agreeing and throwing in a comment about how it would make him seem more likeable and relatable. He knew Rook was a Neige fanboy but he couldn’t have you converting into one too, are you forgetting he’s the fairest of them all, and the only celebrity you should praise like that? If it is relatability you truly desire he can spare one afternoon at your cat cafe since he needs to check up on the place his dorm members have been spending their time at recently to ensure it is up to Pomefiore standard.

He originally looked as though he was going to fight one of the cats with how he was trying to mentally tell the long haired cats to stay away from him. He was so intimidating to even the cats that none were willing to approach him but one, a very snooty girl that begun pawing at his ankles, jumping up into his lap and kneading him as she claimed her seat. He found her demeanor pleasantly charming as she wasn’t that furry and she was good enough, he thought. He managed to get some high quality photos that did trend on magicam for the rare domestic sight of the Vil Schoenheit and a cat. It was surprisingly soothing for him and he did eventually come back where the cat once again claimed him as her’s.

His favorite cat is a siamese with cream white fur and black siamese patterns and bright blue eyes. She’s rather thin and does not shed fur all over his lap like some of the other cats. He makes sure to keep her fur shiny as he brushes her down and uses some toys on her. He refrains from often buying treats as she doesn’t seem fond of them and he doesn’t want her to be too overfed, a model should keep a strict diet. Her collar was replaced without even informing you, the old white one did not fit his or apparently her standard so he simply had to replace it for her. It was a pretty fancy dark blue color with golden engravings in the pattern of pomefiore’s insignias, a purely custom design, with a pretty bow in front, with a silent bell. It’s hard to believe she was ever a stray at one point.

He does not entertain most of the other cats beyond looking at them as he pets Iris. He knows his cat is a complete snob and will likely not entertain other guests, perched up high in her cat tree bed until he comes along so he would never cheat on her with being another cat’s dad. He has full faith that he is the only one that she will ever go to so he does try to stop by every once in awhile to make sure she’s getting the attention and grooming that is needed for a cat of her standard. He’s not into your gaming pcs or your manga corners, but does appreciate you do have school textbooks to borrow and a quiet study nook so that he can elegantly pet Iris with a cup of fine tea while doing his assignments as Rook fawns over them.

Overall a very good guest as long as you leave him alone. Follows your rules, does not talk loudly or much, and goes above and beyond with taking care of your cat that you begin to think it’s actually his cat he’s just letting you keep. You’re a little concerned he may just tell you he’s taking your cat with him once you graduate, but he is a rather good cat dad, at least!

IGNIHYDE. idia shroud.

IDIA SHROUD.

“I-di-a” You coo, bending down and whispering in the ear of the man currently on the floor, two cats surrounding him as he feeds them cat treats. The blue haired boy physically jolts upwards letting out a small whimper of utter shock of being spoken to as you chuckle. “Are you having fun?” You ask as he blushes, looking away from you as he turns his attention back to the cat pawing at his pant leg. “Ehehe, this is even better than watching the series finale to an anime live.” He whispers as one of the orange kitties crawls into his arms, headbutting him.

“You flatter me, glad to know you think so highly of my hard work. Ahem, our hard work.” You say as you pick up the other kitty, fixing their collar as you lightly run your fingers through the cat’s fur. Giving the cat a kiss to his nose and boop, you set him back down as you notice Idia staring at you only to blush insanely red as he looked away quickly from being caught. “Thank you for your hard work… prefect.” He quickly whispers much to your amusement.

Idia has become the number one patron. From the second class ends to the time you close for the evening Idia is right there petting the kitties. He’d actually volunteered to work for free, not as a waiter or anything but as a sort of cat playmate. He’d make sure the cats are satisfied and not bored and no one can touch him or look at him, but you said no, he needs to share the cats.

He’s the reason your wifi is amazing despite your run down dorm, and he makes sure absolutely everything regarding technology is perfect. It took him a bit to understand what you want and why that was necessary beyond you just saying cat cafes in your world have these things, but he understands what bliss is now. Anytime some machine seems even remotely broken he fixes it at a record pace.

His favorite cat had claimed him awhile back. A pure white ragamuffin that is extremely fluffy. The cat is extremely docile and she’d claim her spot in his lap, purring as he’d read manga or play on one of the cafe pcs, occasionally nibbling his finger when he squirms too much from gamer rage. Her original collar was a nice shade of orange, but he not so subtly changed it into one he got. A pretty light baby blue shade with small jewel engravings, a little silent bell at the front with a pretty bow on the back with golden stripes. You are partially convinced he genuinely does believe Ivory is his firstborn child.

He does play with other cats but has a favorite. He always pays for one cat popsicle a day at minimum to feed the cats and pays for other cat treats whenever he can because he is weak. He also is rigged at crane games so he can easily snack through the day never leaving the cafe. There are occasions you tell him stop feeding human snacks to the cat, they will get chubby. He ends up looking super offended on behalf of the kitties you dare said any one of them are chubby. When he’s not pampering the cats you can find him gaming in one of the pcs, grinding through an event. At moments like these do not approach him and leave him alone so he can forget he is actually in public and not his bedroom.

Overall a very respectful guest. He’s quiet, makes sure to respect the boundaries of the cats and the rules you’d set up, and does not cause any scenes. The only issue is getting him to leave may be a little difficult as he tries to give one more kiss… Or that he tries to come on your days off just to keep the little babies company. there’s also the occasion every so often that you can feel his gaze on you, only for you to catch him as he hides his face, the tips of his hair turning pink as he watches you work.

DIASOMNIA. malleus draconia.

MALLEUS DRACONIA.

“Child of man, could I please have one of those.. cat ice creams I believe they’re called?” Tsunotarou asked, eyes sparkling ever so slightly in childlike wonder as you let out a charming laugh, handing him a popsicle that was specifically made for cats to eat. He had always been fond on ice cream but now he had the ability to share it with someone else he liked, the cat that had claimed him a few weeks ago.

“Just one though, we don’t want to feed them too much now.” You say but know it will fall on deaf ears as you didn’t wish to ruin his fun. You didn’t think he had experience with cats before so you were pleasantly surprised one of your cats had practically claimed him, but it all worked out. “Worry not child of man, I won’t give him too many treats. Though I’m sure if I too were eating your cooking right now I wouldn’t be able to stop myself either.” Flustered by his comment, you leave him to play with the cat as you retreat behind the counter, he really was dangerous for reasons different than rumors.

He heard about your business venture from Lilia and was ready to pay a visit not caring if he scared off your guests but halted in his tracks when he heard you telling Sebek you were going to invite him. His mind tells him he has won the lottery and he retreats to fix his outfit waiting in the lounge for an hour until you reach Diasomnia’s doorsteps to speak with him. He is not listening as you greet him with a hug and tell him you’d like for him to come to Ramshackle for a surprise. Something about you also not opening the cafe today so it’d just be you and him so he’d be comfy, there’s really no reason to try and continue speaking he’s been charmed for over an hour, prefect.

He practically vibrates from sheer joy as he’s frozen, then rapidly shaking, then beaming as a cat waltzes up to him as though he owns the prince. He basically blue screens momentarily as the cat with such soft fur and pure innocent eyes meows up at him, pawing at his feet to be picked up. He picks up the cat as you watch curiously, finally figuring out he wasn’t listening to you at all as he stares at the cat’s eyes and then your’s. “Our child is beautiful.” He says as you raise a brow, shrugging it off as you tell him you’d brew him a black coffee and to sit wherever he would like. He instead chooses to sit at the counter bar, watching you and the cat that’s on his lap nipping at his fingers and demanding his attention as well. For the first time in awhile he feels as though something doesn’t fear him other than you.

His favorite cat is a ragdoll cat with white fur and black splotches and deep blue eyes. He claims this cat is your child and you have no idea what he’s thinking of but he seems happy as he shamelessly pulls out a cat toy and plays with him. Also slightly insults the cat by calling him brave or stupid as though a cat can comprehend what he means while mewling at him. Also asks you if he can also have a custom collar after Lilia tells him about his cat, and after you allow him to replace the old red collar he’s excited. Black is the color of royalty in the briar valley and Oatmeal has the privilege of wearing it on his new collar. A pretty black collar with green wings beside a silent bell that may be made of actual gold, along with a little dragon hood-cape and short plush horns you got him so your boys match.

Very possessive of Oatmeal. He will applaud other cats if they dare approach him but everyone knows he has a bias. He practically has been claimed by his cat and no one else is brave enough to go near his cat and no cat is brave enough to approach him, they are a perfect match. He has tried to take your cat back to Diasomnia but you have to remind him that the cat stays with you, he needs a proper schedule, friends, and he needs to stop being fed so many treats. He’s also incredibly smug about it and will come to the cafe on your off days as he talks to you petting Oatmeal and glaring at Leona on the opposite couch who’s busy petting Nebula but refrains from getting physical or suffer your wrath. You’d kicked both men out for an entire weekend.

Overall a good guest personally, but his reputation may cause some people to be scared of visiting. Regardless, he’s very polite to you and treats his cat very good, making sure to give him treats and enough exercise with a toy. May also overpay for coffee and start fights with Leona when you aren’t even open yet. In fact, how on earth did the two of them even get into your cafe? You literally just woke up and they’re spitting insults at one another.

EPILOGUE.

“Fnaygh! I guess I really am a business genius, Henchman.” Grim said as he dug into a can of fancy tuna, one that you had bought without having to worry about your budget for once. You expected success from Ignihyde students, but it seemed like your little business venture went above and beyond with students from all different dorms trying to be booking ahead of time and trying to visit your cat cafe.

“Right right, you’re the genius, Grim.” You laugh in response to your friend as you finished checking on the other cats, finishing up for the evening. In terms of profit, almost every single day you were fully packed with as much people you’d allow in at once, and you had to temporarily increase the charging rates. Despite the increase people still begun to visit, who knew the school filled with villainous kids would be so excited to pet some cats? Especially your regulars, they adored these cats enough they got the cats gift, not you, but the cat.

It was tough work to manage the guest room cafe all by yourself though, you had to admit to yourself. Perhaps you should take up Ace’s offer and idea at hiring some part time employees, your first year friends had already offered, so maybe you’d start training them for help?

a bit of a long post but i have had this thought for awhile ever since reading Idia’s guest room lines? So I figured I would just turn my headcanon into an actual written work. I have more ideas though for a separate post, but I am unsure if I’ll post it, but I do need to share my thought’s of Floyd’s favorite cat being a sphynx cat named prune that is very vocal and has a cozy ugly little sweater that Floyd likes to bathe with you.

©idiaa-shroxd. do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or use my works to train ai.

[love-marimo]

Photographer!Reader x Zoro

ー another self-indulgent hcs of a photographer reader joining the strawhat crew and making zoro their muse.

ー as always, asks are open!

cw: none, just teeth rotting fluff ♡

being the photographer of the strawhats is like the cherry on top of a cake. you love writing logs of the photos you take and it makes recordkeeping of your adventures so much easier.

plus, if everybody's bored on the ship and wants a good laugh, they'd ask for your camera or a photo album to look back at some of the funny moments that you captured on your voyage.

whenever there's a feast or celebration going on, you're instantly on your feet taking pictures such as luffy eating so much or chopper's starry eyed expression while he admires his big cotton candy.

but you get nervous when you take pictures of zoro.

i mean, to you, it's just a silly little crush. you just admire him, is all.

yeah, what a bold-faced lie. you're completely head over heels for him.

it started when you first saw them land in your country. when luffy heard of your name as a famous photographer, he was interested in meeting you and thought of letting you join his crew.

most of the strawhats were ambivalent because the voyage is dangerous, and you might not be well equipped for battle, but they thought they might as well give it a shot. it wouldn't be bad to have a recordkeeper in the crew, right?

zoro was the first one to find you.

he was lost wandering in the bustling streets of the city that you live in until he came across your studio.

you like taking photos of warriors, swordsmen and samurais and your studio had a sword logo in it so he assumed it was a weapon store.

assuming you weren't around, he took his time browsing through the albums and coffee table books on the table.

you were cleaning on the second floor of your studio after a session when you noticed a presence in your area so you went down and you found zoro casually flipping through the photos you captured, seemingly immersed in them.

"oh! hello, sir. have you booked an appointment?"

as soon as he looks up at you, it was like an eureka moment.

you found your muse. and he is the infamous pirate hunter.

you've seen his bounty, and you've heard a lot about zoro.

and of course, you wanted to take at least one photo of him.

"hey. do you sell weapons here?" he asked.

you stared at him for a while, and when you caught yourself, he was raising a brow at you, asking again.

"uhm, no… this is a photo studio." you smiled, scratching the back of your head, blushing a little. what am i embarrassed for? you ask yourself.

"i see. i thought this was a store because you have so many pictures of weapons outside."

"they're from my travels, actually. i admire swordsmen and warriors so whenever i get the chance, i take photos of them."

"so you're a photographer?"

you nod in reply.

you exchanged idle chatter for a while when you heard another voice coming in from the entrance.

"is it here? okay, thanks!" it was luffy and the rest of the strawhat crew.

long story short, you got recruited.

you're pretty good in combat, after surrounding yourself with swordsmen, so you learned a lot from their techniques as you travelled the seas.

luffy would bother you the most, asking you to take pictures of him making a funny expression.

franky would make you a device where you can virtually store all the photos you take. much to the joy of the whole crew of course.

now here comes zoro.

at first, it was photos of him napping and snoring. most of them were luffy, usopp, and chopper's idea. when you got a funny angle, you'd take a photo of him and show it to them.

you still found him attractive, even though those pictures of him were unflattering.

the crew (especially sanji) would laugh at zoro's photos and he would be the butt of the jokes for a while. it would get him flustered and annoyed.

then over time, you got a little more confident and you'd climb up the crow's nest to take photos of him training.

little did you know, he's just a little embarrassed to look into your eyes through the lens of your camera.

and you felt the same.

"oi, stop that." he says, looking away.

you giggle in reply, winking at him and sticking out your tongue.

then, you became more comfortable with each other, and the photos you took of him were much more candid and something straight out of a movie.

there were photos of him solemnly looking out to the sea, eating a meal quietly, cleaning his swords, drinking sake, laughing heartily, smiling at the camera… the list goes on.

one day, when sanji opens your camera to find some photos to laugh at, he was flabbergasted at the amount of zoro's good quality photos.

he'd whine to you why he never gets ones like him.

and he'd complain why there were so many photos of zoro.

"it's practically filling up the storage." sanji complains.

"my, it's kind of romantic!" brook comments.

the whole crew went silent for a bit at the dining table.

when you and zoro both realized what was going on you said:

"shut up!"

you buried your face in your hands.

"well… i…" you nervously chuckled.

"it's not what you think." zoro defended.

"if you want to kiss each other, we have plenty of rooms for you to get comfortable." robin laughs.

remember the photo storage device franky built you?

you asked him to make another one specifically for zoro's photos.

it's pretty unfair to be honest.

the crew wishes you would do the same for them.

but then again, you take a lot of photos of them to begin with, so in the end, all is well.

they just accepted the fact that you're into him like that. i mean, what can they do anyway?

there was one time where it's the golden hour, and zoro was a bit tipsy.

his cheeks were dusted with a faint tinge of red. you thought he looked cute so you brought out your camera.

zoro was comfortable with your antics now, so he grinned at you, reaching out his hand holding the bottle of liquor.

"hey. want some?" he said.

*click*

you captured a photo of him with a grin, his pose seemed like he wanted to give the viewer a hug, and the sunset made the lighting look like it was straight out of a film.

"do you want to see it?" you offered.

he gestured for your camera and looked at his own photo.

silence fell on you for a while, then he smiled again, ruffling your hair.

"it's a good photo."

no amount of sunlight could reflect how red your cheeks grew.

it was one of the rare times he complimented you and your work.

suffice to say, your passion for photography never died down because of him. ♡

ー Lolita

[purpleyearning]

U actually telling me to be patient. I have been on here for nearly 2 years. I follow so many people. Hardly anyone follows back or they delete their account. I have one oc follower and that is Kass and that's generic. Only ocappreciation reblogged my stuff. I only have one note on my posts or zero if ocappreciation doesn't reblog. I'm not hating on Kass. She try to be nice right. I participated in challenges and gift swaps and same, no notes no nothing. The person I got gift exchange didn't acknowledge me when I messaged them to thank them. Nobody cares about my stories nobody cares about my art nobody cares about my characters. Every day I log on and no notifications. I interact with people and they just cursorily respond or ignore me. I try to make friends with other people that's in the same boat try to build community and they don't want to know because I'm not you or your pals. I look at your blogs every day and it's the same round of reblogging the same people's stuff over and over and over. Like your blog is just kei poppy Tess and so same same same. Other people's same. It's not fair. What's the point in being here

You're absolutely right, that is a long time. But I was on Wattpad before Tumblr for like six years, and didn't make a single friend. Perhaps this simply isn't the platform you, what's the point of being on here? If you can't have fun without attention, perhaps there is no point of being on here for you.

I highly doubt you have ZERO followers besides the lovely Kass, there's gotta be at least some bots. As for challenge posts, that is either a admin or tumblr issue (not showing up in the tags) but that can be easily fixed by sending a kind ask OFF ANON so people can go look and reblog.

I encourage kindness but I cannot make people do things. If your gifter or anyone else did not acknowledge you, that is not my problem. And based purely off my own interactions with you, they made the right choice. Your personality leaves a lot to be desired and I do not want to be friends with mean people.

As for your creations and ocs, you did literally steal someone's gif. Just because you changed it now doesn't mean people didn't notice it. Is this a common occurrence for you? That might have something to do with it.

You overestimate my and others "popularity". I very rarely have notifications on my oc blog either.

We reblog each others posts because we're friends, not just in your tumblr-y way that pisses you off but we talk about things besides ocs and outside of tumblr. The reason are blogs are similair would be because you make friends with people who have things in common with you.

If you want to make friends, send asks and make gifts and even talk about things outside of oc stuff. Anon asks, especially anon hate, is NOT the way to do it. In fact, you're actively lowering your chance of making friends by being a whiney bitch with a victim complex.

[paradise-in-k4]

Bunbunmaru Lost Word Report - 11/8/24

Ayayayayayayaya! This is our special report for 3 and a half years after the Lost Word Incidents started up here, and it all culminates from a special Dev Letter livestream. Missed it? Here’s the YouTube link! Server maintenance for the update will take place on November 10th, 11 PM EST.

Say “Ayayaya!” For Hourai Hobbies!

(11/11 - 12/5)

Did you wanna see more of my beautiful face? Now you can with this Say “Ayayaya!” Epic Prayer for C3< Aya Shameimaru and a 5 Star Story Card, “Phantom Photo” to remember her by too! Rated A by the community for “AYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA”

On a similar note, a second Epic Prayer for C3< Alice Margatroid titled Hourai Hobbies is also available with another matching 5 Star Story Card, “100th Black Market” based on that same game! Rated D by the community for “Dud Dolls Despite Her Best Effort” but at least she’s on the tier list.

As a special bonus, the Faded Divine Spirit Pure Prayer featuring L0g Kanako Yasaka is here too! This is the 2nd Pure Friend that’s being added to the game, so just a reminder. There Are No Dolls To Substitute. The only way to Limit Break her is with a duplicate, which adds up to pulling her 5 times to unlock and max out. This banner is only for God Crystals only, so the Yorigamis might be harping over your bad financial decisions here… just like the Pure Exchange Emas that are for sale in the shop in step-down bundles. The first one goes for $79.99 USD immediately. Yikes! These bundles stay until December 12th.

Doesn’t matter which way you roll, all three banners also have a chance to reveal either L0g Kanako Yasaka or Sanae Kochiya as a rerun! According to the community, they’re both rated SS on their community tier list, so with just a bit of Tewi’s luck and a lot of financial support, you could meet them yourself! The odds aren’t increased for them outside of their own banners, which means they’re just as likely to drop as an unfeatured character. All 3 new characters also have trial quests, where you can get to play with them as Guest Characters assumingly at max level.

Take it Icy!

Yukkuri Cirno is coming. I repeat, Yukkuri Cirno is coming! Meet her in the new story, “Take it Icy!” Find it in: Explore -> Yukkuri -> Yukkuri-Verse

AA Cirno will now appear in the Yukkuri Prayer, changing the drop rates for each Yukkuri character to 33.333… ongoing forever percent.

All three Yukkuri characters will have English voices added to their voiceover selections. Yep, that’s audible English! Talk about Easy!

A Yukkuri Campaign for the 3.5th Anniversary comes in full of tasks is incoming following maintenance through the end of the year (12/31). Clear them for Spirit Points and Yukkuri Prayer Tickets!

Lossy’s Title

You can now put a title on your profile for everyone else to see! These are basically achievements that you can win for doing stuff in the game after you meet the goals for it. Longtime players can win a number of titles retroactively because of stuff they already completed a while back, while other titles start counting after maintenance ends. The latter’s probably numbers.

Anniversary Campaigns

Super EXP Quest - Play and play until you drop! This quick and easy stage awards lots of EXP and has no daily limit! (- 12/5)

Login Bonus - 15 days full of bonuses including 45 Seal Crystals and 15 Fortune Dust! (11/12 - 12/31)

Daily Presents - Free stuff just for logging in, sent right to your mailbox!

Special Ritual Campaign - Tasks for an all-encompassing gacha banner containing a lot of characters, including Festival and Ultra Festival! (- 12/31)

Hifuu LostWord Clear Campaign - Finished the 3rd chapter of the Hifuu story? No? Clear stages in Universe L? to get materials and Lucky Mirrors! (- 12/31)

Everyone Wins! Campaign - Log on for 30 days between the end of maintenance and January 16, 2025 to qualify for a payout of 600 God Crystals and 50 Seal Crystals for FREE! You’ll also be qualified for a chance to win a Yukkuri Cushion! Crystal payouts will be distributed between (2/20/25 - 3/31/25)

Comeback Login Bonus - Players that haven’t logged in for 2 weeks or more can win special rewards including a 3.5th Anniversary COMEBACK Ultra Festival Exchange Ema (character details unknown, ends 12/31)

Anniversary Packs - See Nitori in the shop about those. (- 12/31)

Limited Time Costumes - Multiple limited-time costumes are returning for the anniversary, including two new ones for Kasen Ibaraki and Lily White! (- 12/31)

Other Stuff

New Lunar Capital Expo

Extra Stages are being added with 6 daily attempts. See it after finishing the main event storyline! (- 11/19)

VS: Divergent Spirits - 2 New Challengers (- 11/28)

L1 Minoriko Aki with a chance to win the 5 Star Story Card “Expo Photographer”

L1 Keiki Haniyasushin with the chance to win the 5 Star Story Card “The Model Maker”

Both can award the Luck Story Card “It’s Just Like I Heard”

3x drop rates in the main story, Hifuu, and Yukkuri stages (- 11/28)

Advanced Challenge Ongoing (- 11/19)

Event Pick Up Prayer for Son Biten, Enoko Mitsugashiram and Chiyari Tenkajin Ongoing (- 11/19)

Kourindou Slot Login Bonus and Aya Assistance Ongoing (- 11/30)

“Foxindigo” Home BGM Giveaway Ongoing (- 12/31) and a hint that this might be L80 Ran’s song

[tbmaybank]

Hi, I was wondering if you could write an imagine with Jj where the reader is Topper’s little sister and she’s friendly with everyone. (Rafe could have a crush on her or something if u want to spice it up a bit) Well, she is starting to date Jj ( with a little bit of help from John B and Sarah) and Topper and Rafe find out about their relationship at a party or at midsummer because they catch them almost doing the dirty. I hope this isn’t wierd and I hope you understand cause English is not my first language.

Here you go, doll! I hope you like it :)

Warnings: drinking, smoking, smut, and violence

Requests are open!

——————————————————————————

You sat at the dinner table, mindlessly pushing your food around on the plate, ignoring the on going conversations. You hated coming to the Cameron’s for dinner. Rafe was always making comments or trying to find excuses to be alone with you. You kind of felt bad pushing him away, you were once really close. He was your brother, Toppers, best friend, and at one point you had a huge crush on him. But now, with how much he’s changed lately, you couldn’t stand being around him. Plus, you were now secretly dating one of the boys he hated most, JJ Mayfield. All you wanted to do right now was to get through this dinner so you could sneak away to see him.

You hadn’t meant to fall for the Pogue boy, but after the infamous Sarah and Topper break up, you ended up seeing a lot of the group, as Sarah was more of a sister to you than a friend. After seeing how horribly everything went when everyone found out about John B and Sarah, you decided to do everything you could to keep your relationship a secret. As much as you hated having to hide the boy you loved, you had to admit it made everything more exciting.

A buzzing from your pocket pulled you out of your thoughts. You pull the phone out, seeing a text from JJ.

-Is Rafe behaving himself around my girl?

Smiling at his obvious jealousy, even though he would never admit that he’s jealous.

-More or less. Nothing too bad. I’d much rather be getting annoyed by you though ;)

-Oh don’t worry, I fully plan on being extra annoying tonight. Can’t wait to see you.

“Y/n, are you listening at all?” Your father asks. You quickly put your phone away, turning a little pink.

“I’m sorry, I got lost in my own head. What did I miss?” Adding a sweet smile, which always got you out of trouble with your dad.

He sighs as he says “I was saying your mother and I will be leaving with Ward and Rose tomorrow morning for a couple days. You are to listen to your brother while we’re gone, understand?” Internally you roll your eyes. I’m 17. I don’t need a babysitter you think to yourself. But nows not the time to argue, especially when this can give you an excuse to spend more time with JJ.

“Yes, dad. I understand.” Everyone was finished eating by this point, but you knew this meant you still had about another hour of after dinner drinks to sit thought. However, your parents were okay with you, Topper, and Rafe going to sit outside on the dock. Almost as soon as you guys sit down, your brother is pulling out a joint. He lights it, takes a hit, then passes it to you. You immediately start to pass it over to Rafe, on the other side of you. You didn’t like being high around your parents, so you never joined in these after dinner smoke sessions.

Rafe throws his arm around you, “come on y/n, have fun for once.” Trying to hand the joint back to you.

“I have plenty of fun all the time, I think I’ll survive being bored for an hour.” He rolls his eyes and takes a hit.

They start talking about throwing a party the next day at your house. “Are you actually gonna join us this time?” Rafe asks you, moving his hand to grab your hip.

“Sure, but only if I get to bring my friends.” You respond while moving his hand off of you.

“You mean those pogues? Hell no. Why are you even friends with them?” Topper says.

“They’re nice, plus if they come, Sarah will be there.” Knowing that the chance to talk to Sarah would make him agree.

“Fine. But you better tell them to not start shit.” Smiling, you hug your brother.

“ Thank you Topper!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

———-

Later that night, you were finally on your way to see JJ. Sarah had picked you up down the street from your house after you snuck out your window. Sarah was the biggest help to you being able to hide JJ. She was always willing to give you rides to see him, or covering for you and saying you were with her.

Once you guys park the car, JJ is instantly at the car opening your door for you, pulling you straight into a deep kiss.

“You guys literally saw each other this morning.” Sarah says, laughing at his eagerness to kiss you.

“Yeah, but if y/n was your girl, you’d miss her this much too.” He says as you guys start walking to join the others.

Everyone’s in their own conversations when you walk up, and you and JJ sit on a log, his arms going around you. You all start talking while drinking beer, a couple blunts being passed around. This time, you happily took hits as they came to you. You tell everyone how there’s a party the next night at your house, and how you got Topper to agree to them coming as long as they promised not to start anything, making sure to shoot your boyfriend a look as you say the last part.

“When have I ever started anything with them?” JJ asks, prompting everyone to start listing examples of when he most definitely started problems with them. “Okay, okay fine,” he throws his hands up “I promise not to start anything, but if Rafe starts touching you I will-“

“You will do absolutely nothing and let me handle it so everyone there doesn’t find out about us.” You interrupt, giving him a quick kiss at the end. He finally agrees, but not without pouting.

————————————————

The next night, the party was in full blast. You sat in your room though, until you got the text from JJ that they were here. And when you did, you rush to meet them at the door, determined to keep them away from Topper, and more importantly, Rafe.

As the night progressed, you found it easy to keep everyone separated. Other than a few nasty looks exchanged, nothing bad happened. You and the Pogues stayed in a corner drinking and having a good time. After awhile, you were definitely drunk.

“Can we sneak away?” JJ whispers in your ear. Giggling, you nod. Carefully, making sure no one sees, you lead him up the stairs to your room. As soon as he closes the door, his lips are on yours. His hands on your hips, pulling you as close to him as you can get. He backs you up, til you softly hit the dresser. Without breaking the kiss, he lifts you up and sets you on the dresser, sneaking his hands under your shirt. You pull away to your shirt off.

“God you’re beautiful.” He whispers before attacking your neck with his lips, letting his rands roam your body. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer against you. You lift his shirt and yank it off him, and pull his lips to yours again. His hand going under your skirt to rub you through your panties. “You’re so wet for me, baby.” Moaning at the feeling of his hand, and his words, and whimpering when he pulls his hand away.

“JJ,” you pant breathlessly, “I need you. Please..” he smirks at your words before lifting you just enough to pull down your thong. His thumb returns to rubbing your center while he kisses your neck again, slowly moving to your chest before his fingers enter you, causing a gasp. His fingers thrusting, as he sucks at your nipples, makes moans fall out of you beyond control. You start to feel the warm feeling build up in your stomach, before the bedroom door swings open.

“Hey y/n, where’d you- WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO HER!?”

You guys quickly pull apart, you covering yourself with your arms as soon as you hear Rafes words.

“Rafe, get out!” You shout at him.

He ignores you, and goes straight for JJ, throwing a punch. You quickly throw your shirt on and start trying to pull them apart, which you knew was a useless effort. You instead ran downstairs to find Pope and John B. Your eyes scan the people in the party. The music covering the noise from the fight upstairs. Finally your eyes spot the boys your looking for. You run up to them, not even realizing your crying and try to say what’s happening, but the words won’t come out. All you can manage to say is “Rafe. Upstairs.” Luckily, they understand and run up. You follow behind and watch as they successfully get Rafe and JJ apart. Each still trying to get at each other, though.

“Don’t ever tucking touch my girl again!” Rafe shouts at JJ, but before he can respond you cut in.

“I’m not your girl, Rafe. Just because you have a crush on me, and try to act like my boyfriend, doesn’t mean you are. JJ is my boyfriend; not you.”

He looks between you and JJ for a minute, before smirking “so you’re a pogue slut now? I should have seen that coming.” JJ tries to go for him again at this comment, but Pope keeps him back.

At this point, Topper makes his way upstairs, noticing all of you missing. He walks in and sees Rafe and JJ being held back from each other, JJ still shirtless, in your room. He looks to JJ, and asks “were you fucking my sister?”

“Topper, Rafe, get out of my room.”

“Are you seriously with him, y/n?” Topper asks.

“Yes, Topper. I am.” You sigh.

“Get out.” He says.

“Topper, you can’t kick me out. Mom and dad would kill you.”

“No, they’re gonna be thankful when I tell them why. Now pack your shit and get out.”

You felt your eyes getting filled with tears. You knew it would be bad if he found out, but you didn’t expect him to look at you with such hatred. “Topper..”you say quietly, walking towards him.

“No, y/n. It’s them or us. And you need to choose right now.” The tears falling fully now. No body in the room dares to say anything or move, all watching you two, waiting to hear your answer. Suddenly anger rises back up in you, before you turn away from him, snatching up your old book bag, and stuffing as much as you can from your dresser in it, and walking out without a word to any of them. Your plan was to go wait by John Bs van, but then realize it was pretty bold of you to assume he would be okay with you coming back to his place tonight. So, here you were, aimlessly walking down the street. You walked like you had purpose, a goal in mind, but really you had no idea where you were going. You hear footsteps running up to from behind, and suddenly your arm is grabbed and your spun the other direction. You were about to scream, before you saw JJ standing there.

“I’ve been shouting for you,” he says out of breath, “didn’t you hear me?” You honestly didn’t, your head full of so many thoughts at this time. Looking into his blue eyes, seeing the cuts and bruises from Rafe, you feel the anger melt away, and instead all the other emotions hit you, and you just start sobbing. He pulls you close to him, “baby, y/n, it’s gonna be okay, okay? You can come stay with us, if you want?” You just nod against his chest, unable to stop crying enough to actually talk. He starts leading you towards John Bs van, continuing to tell you how it’s gonna be okay, and you guys will figure everything out together.

When you reach the van, Kie and Sarah rush to hug you. “I think this officially means your a pogue.” Kie says while hugging you, getting a small, but sniffly, giggle out of you.

“I’m sorry guys, I should have known this wasn’t gonna go well.” You say, trying to wipe away tears with the back of your hand.

“Hey,” John B says while lightly grabbing your shoulders and looking into your eyes, “it’s not your fault. At all. Rafe is a psychopath.” Nodding; you thank him.

You all pile into the van, riding in silence back to John Bs house. JJs arm around you as you try to clean his wounds in the bouncing van. You guys finally arrive, and climb out. JJ dramatically holding his arms towards the house, “Welcome Home, y/n!” He says smiling.

Home. You liked the sound of that.

[starlessea]

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙥 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙖𝙨 - Chapter 2. Manic Pixie Dream Bitch

A/N Make sure you read the prologue and other chapters first! Things are starting to pick up - I hope you stick around for the ride.

Series Masterlist: Step on the Gas

Summary: A dishonourable discharge from the military results in you being hauled off to live with your grandparents in the boonies, otherwise known as the middle of nowhere Georgia. After running over a nail on the road, and pushing your grandpa's vintage Camaro to the nearest auto-shop, you meet Daryl Dixon - the local mechanic. At some point, the world ends, but that stubborn man never gives you a chance to slow down. His smile gives you whiplash, but he still insists that you to step on the gas.

Words: 5374

Chapter Warnings: Language, Injury, Domestic abuse mentions

The evening was cool, and a breeze hung in the air.

The midday Georgia heat had all but melted away, leaving behind tepid winds that rustled leaves on the trees — and the canvas tents. They fluttered around you as you walked, like the beating of butterfly wings, or ripples atop the ocean.

It was peaceful. It felt safe.

All eyes were on you as you followed Daryl to the firepit, taking a seat on a low log beside him — but not too close.

The night was still too young to turn in yet, so the man had begrudgingly led you out of his tent when the silence became stifling. For some reason, conversation didn't come as naturally to the two of you as it once had.

There was tension there. You could feel it.

But you didn't have the slightest clue why. The last time you had seen Dixon, it was in the midst of a tremendous thunderstorm. The two of you had laughed, and ran through the rain until your clothes were soaked through, and your skin was cold.

It was one of the best nights of your life.

Yet, here you were — sitting beside the man in stagnant silence as he kicked at coal embers with his boot, and pretended not to feel your stare seeping into the back of his head.

Across from you were the people you had briefly met earlier — the two officers by the names of Shane and Rick, or helicopter boy — the asian man named Glenn, and Carol who was sitting beside her husband. Their individual conversations were low, barely audible against the crackling fire, but one-by-one they seemed to filter off, until there was nothing but silence once again.

Shane stood up.

He stoked the fire a little with a branch, careful not to let the flames rise too high. "So, tell me," the man spoke, his voice wide and assertive,"how's a sweet young thing like yourself figure out how to fly a Sikorsky Hawk?"

His presence was big.

It made you shuffle in your seat as his eyes dragged down you, resting on your arm — which was bound by a sling. "Well, minus the landing part," he murmured below his breath.

You didn't like the way he smirked when he said that, like it had been amusing to him — funny to him that you'd almost died. Daryl let out a sound beside you, a low rumbling noise from the back of his throat that only you could hear. But you didn't bite to his words.

After all, men like that could only bark.

"I was in the military," you answered, meeting his eyes and not breaking the stare.

Your throat was still sore, but your words rang out clear, atop the thrum of the evening air, and flickering flames. Shane stuffed his hands in his pockets, and rocked back on the balls of his feet — as though he was putting on some type of show.

"Air force, then?" he questioned, but it was starting to feel more like an interrogation.

You caught the whites of Carol's eyes across from you, as they darted between the officer and yourself, and to her husband, then back to the other officer. She seemed as skittish as a person could possibly be — just watching, waiting, for something to happen.

You cleared your throat and forced a smile. "Training to be," you clarified.

For some reason, the exchange didn't feel like a conversation. The mood was too tense, too untrusting. It reminded you of the few minutes you'd spent alone with Dixon, back at his tent.

Something felt wrong.

Shane stalked around the firepit, his police boots crunching against the leafy bed, and kicking up dirt where he walked. He stopped directly in front of you, looming a shadow down onto you and Daryl — and making the other man scoff as he looked up.

"So not actually a pilot yet?" Shane smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Your smile faltered, he was asking too many questions.

The other officer, Rick, took off his sheriff's hat and tracked his partner's movements with his eyes, as though anticipating something that hadn't happened yet. It made you feel a nervousness you were ashamed of.

You never did play well with men like Shane.

"And tell me this," he said, lowly, as he crouched down to your level, "why aren't you at Fort Benning?" He looked back over his shoulder, at Rick who was sitting stiff as a board, before cocking his head back to you."Or were you part of the group that showered Atlanta with napalm?"

The word hung heavy in the air — even though he had practically whispered it.

Your mind flickered back to the day it rained fire down upon the city, to the sounds of screams, and the charred remains you'd stumbled across on the occasions you wandered too close to the centre.

You shook your head immediately, feeling the pain shoot up your shoulder. "I had no part in that," you hissed — much more viciously than you anticipated.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you curled in on yourself. You didn't miss the way the man recoiled slightly from your face, and you'd even caught a fleeting glimpse of your reflection in the blacks of his irises.

You wore a look of pure disgust.

"I was discharged," you whispered, after taking a few moments to collect yourself. "Couple months before all this." You glanced to your right, to where the former mechanic was sitting — trying to pretend like he wasn't watching you. "Got sent to Georgia afterwards, which is where I met Daryl," you explained, noticing his eyes narrow at your words. "Briefly."

He looked away. He didn't seem to like that choice, either.

Shane stood back up, stretching out his knees, and then his neck. He rolled his head back in a circle, before glancing to and from you and Daryl with a smirk.

"Makes sense," he murmured, before turning on his heels to walk away, "dropouts tend to stick together, no?"

And for the second time today, Dixon went wild.

The tension finally snapped, like an elastic band having been stretched to its limit, and Daryl shot up to his feet, lunging for the man.

But you reached out for him at the same time, trying to grab his hand so that the night didn't end in the way you were almost certain it was going to end.

After all, you'd only seen Daryl go off once before — back in the old world — which had left an aftertaste of bloodstains over your bar, and maroon-tinted bruised knuckles that needed tending to well after your closing time.

But now he seemed even worse — more tightly wound than a coil beneath your boot, always ready to jump up and spring.

He was playing the part of a man far more angry than you had ever known him to be.

Although you still couldn't figure out why.

The ticking of the wall clock was stark against the silence. Joe's Bar had been cleared out more than an hour back, but the two of you remained — like ghosts haunting whiskey bottles and looming around the jukebox until it played a song you liked.

Dixon hissed as you tipped alcohol over his knuckles, watching as it seeped into the cuts and spread over his bruises like a clear film. They weren't that bad, really — only a purplish hue to them.

After all, you'd seen the other guy.

But you'd never seen Dixon get so riled up before. He'd always been a cocktail of shy glances and dumb wonder around you. That was until tonight at least, when a drunken customer slapped your ass at the bar, and the mechanic beat him bloody.

He'd probably seen how rattled it had made you, and how you looked ready to either snap or break.

"Ya don' have to do this," the man rasped, purposefully avoiding your eyes. "Save the vodka."

Your hand stilled over his knuckles, as you breathed in the strong, sharp scent which made your lungs burn. You laughed, pointing back over your shoulder at the shelves atop of shelves — stacked with an array of bottles, all different shapes and sizes.

"We've got plenty to spare, don't you worry," you hummed, before tipping more Smirnoff onto a cotton pad. "And you didn't have to do that, either," you chided, narrowing your eyes at a particular cut — which had already begun to crust over. "I could've handled him."

The mechanic scowled, glancing back over his shoulder to the place where it had all gone down — as though watching the scene play out once more in his mind.

He shook his head. "Ya could'a lost yer job."

"I'm used to that by now," you bit back, not once looking up from his bruise-splayed knuckles. "But Dixon," you cautioned, "don't go doing that again."

A car drove by outside, its headlights streaming in through the window and illuminating the dark husk of the bar — the pool tables that had been otherwise cloaked in shadows, and the expression of the man sitting opposite you, studying your every word.

"Joe might bar you next time," you whispered, screwing the lid back onto the bottle.

But Dixon only laughed.

"Barred from a bar?" he scoffed, stretching out his fingers to inspect your work, "he ain't gonna do tha'."

The stool squeaked as the man stood up, dusting off his jeans and retrieving his jacket. It was long past midnight, and you knew you'd be catching a ride back with him as he sped down the streets, reminding you to hold on tighter.

"What makes you so sure?" you teased, untying your apron and leaving it at the end of the counter.

Daryl held the door open, and fished around in his pockets for something that jingled — pulling it out to show you.

It was a set of car keys, with a tacky coke-bottle charm hanging from them.

"Still got his truck sittin' in the shop," he smirked.

The scuffle between Shane and Daryl was interrupted before blows could even be exchanged. Rick grabbed a hold of his partner, whilst you pulled the former mechanic back down to his firepit seat, trading places with him until you were face-to-face with the other asshole — a few inches shorter but a whole lot more pissed.

Daryl tried to stand back up again, but you flashed those eyes at him — the ones that made him immediately second guess the action.

"Sit down," you seethed, punching out each word as you spoke them.

And surprisingly, Dixon did as you said.

You weren't angry at him, exactly, but you didn't want him fighting your battles for you anymore — especially not whilst he had a chip on his shoulder more noticeable than the sling on yours.

Then you turned back to Shane, looking up at him as he stood with his chest almost flush to you, completely ignoring Rick's pleas behind him. He knew exactly what he was doing. That comment wasn't off-handed — he made sure you could hear it.

"I don't like you," you said lowly, not backing down from the glare he shot your way.

You didn't want things to turn out like this. There was nothing more you hated than making a scene.

Well, there was one thing, you thought.

You couldn't fucking stand men who abused their power.

"Don't have to like me, princess," Shane retorted, reaching out a hand in your direction. "I'm just here to keep you alive."

You smacked his palm away — as though it were a fly buzzing much too close — before he could make contact with your skin. And you saw red.

Daryl would have punched a man for less, if you'd so much as given him the right look. But this time, you shot a warning glance at him, telling him to stay put.

"Don't fucking touch me," you whispered, but your words held more weight than if you'd screamed them — and Shane retracted his hand. "I can take care of myself."

Except, he made a point of letting his eyes drag over your injuries, lingering on the makeshift sling, before settling on your stomach — as though he could see your stitches underneath the material of Daryl's shirt.

"Clearly," he remarked, before turning on his heels once again.

Nobody stopped him this time — not even Rick — as he stalked around the fire, and into the night. You caught a glimpse of his metal dog tags as he did, glinting off the light of the flame and jumping around his neck with every step he took. You thought it was ironic for him to even wear them.

Or maybe not.

After all, he seemed the same as every other military man you'd encountered — a goddamn animal.

"Make sure you take care of your manic pixie dream bitch," he yelled, probably directed at Dixon. "Wouldn't want anymore helicopters fallin' from the damn sky."

And so Shane disappeared into his tent — into the shadows you couldn't quite make out — and Daryl stood up straight after, heading in the opposite direction. The remaining group was uneasy, tentative almost, as they watched your head whip back and forth between them and the mechanic as he left.

Dixon stalked away into the brush, despite the shouts and warnings not to stray too far from the campsite.

And you followed him.

With each step further from the flickering flames of the bonfires, it became harder to navigate the night. Your injuries had slowed you down, and you flinched every time a twig snapped, or leaves rustled near your ear. You didn't even have a weapon anymore — since it had burnt up with the rest of your gear in the crash.

But it didn't take you long to track down Dixon. After all, his smoke trail gave him away.

He was sitting on a grassy bank, over facing the quarry waters. There was a full moon out, and you could now see it peering above the tops of the trees — ghostly white against the stark, black sky. And cigarette smoke swirled around it, leading back down to the shadowy figure on the ground, legs tucked up to his chest as he breathed deeply.

You approached, wincing as your shoulder caught on a low-hanging branch.

"Yer gonna bust ya stitches messin' 'round like tha'," Dixon spoke, not even turning around to confirm it was you. But still, he outstretched a hand, helping you sit down beside him.

The moonlight was beautiful. It drizzled over the treetops in the distance, and the spindly branches that reached up to the sky. It even reflected off Daryl's skin as you glanced at him in the corner of your eye — watching as the smoke poured out from his lips and settled in the air.

You tucked yourself into his side just a little, missing the heavy feeling of your jacket which smelt like him — and was almost just as warm. Part of you expected him to shrug you off, or make some remark in-keeping with how withdrawn he'd been throughout the day.

But, he didn't.

He let you sit beside him, as he blocked you from the breeze — as though you weren't the one person who would be used to it.

"Got a spare?" you asked, eyeing his packet of cigarettes.

Dixon hesitated for a second, before placing them down in the space between you. "Thought ya didn't smoke," he replied.

You shook your head and laughed. "I don't."

In truth, you'd only recently taken up the habit — smoking much too scarcely to even call it a habit, really. It had all started when you'd stumbled across a rundown convenience store, and looted a packet of cigarettes without thinking — just because they were the brand that Dixon smoked.

The first time you lit one, you'd cried. They smelt like him.

They'd smelt like your only friend, and reminded you of just how lonely the end of the world was. So, you started to smoke — only when you missed him — and you continued because, even though he was now sitting beside you, for some reason you still felt empty.

Neither of you said anything after that, but you could hear his thoughts — those questions he wanted to ask but didn't. After all, he'd voiced them once before, back before the world ended. Except, it was you who wasn't willing to answer.

"What'd ya do tha' got yer ass sent here?" Dixon asked, one day whilst you were hanging around at the auto-shop, watching him scrub down that Honda bike. "Y'know, locked away in rural Georgia."

You laughed at his words, taking a swig from the ice cold cola you'd skimmed from Dean's fridge.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I was training to be a helicopter pilot," you admitted into the air, answering that question truthfully for the first time.

But he'd already guessed — after the day you'd both had.

"Why didn't it work out?" Daryl mumbled, the cigarette bouncing between his lips as he spoke the words.

You watched as the smoke formed white clouds against the black night, before finally reaching for the packet yourself.

"Fear of heights," you told the man, letting out a breathy chuckle that blew out the lighter's flame.

It was a lie, but the truth was much more bleak.

Though, perhaps that was what nights like this were for. Out here, there was no one else to hear you speak your thoughts, or even see the two silhouettes sitting in the dark. Maybe you could even start trusting the man called Daryl Dixon, since he'd done nothing but pick you up and set you back onto your feet ever since you fell from the sky — and even some time before that.

"No matter how long I would fly for, I always had to land at some point," you explained, though it didn't really sound like much of an explanation. "But the people on the ground made me wish that I never had."

Daryl met your eyes, and in that moment you swore you saw a glimpse of that former mechanic — the one who was street smart but still clueless to people.

"That was until I met a man at a garage who promised to show me the world on his bike," you smiled, before letting the smoke trail from your lips, "but we ended up watching the stars instead."

Dixon didn't smile back.

And somehow, the smoke on your lips tasted more familiar — felt more like Daryl — than the man sitting beside you.

"Ya can take the tent tonight," he mumbled, snuffing his cigarette butt out on the grass.

You pulled a face, but he didn't retrieve it like he normally would — he probably thought there was nothing left in the world worth preserving anymore.

"And what about you?" you asked, making an expression he couldn't even see. "You should rest up before tomorrow."

But the man shook his head in the dark, pushing back on his knuckles to stand up — and offering you his hand once more.

"I ain't none of yer concern," he dismissed, whilst his palm was still warm in yours, "'m gonna sleep out under the stars."

The stars were bright overhead, with no light pollution, or mysterious blinking flickers that could have been mistaken for planes of satellites. But somehow, you didn't fully believe his story.

You laughed, but it wasn't the warm kind. It was the kind that felt foreign on your tongue, because it was a far cry from the fits of giggles the man normally had you in.

"Well, enjoy the view," you replied, shortly.

But you failed to notice the way Dixon watched you the entirety of the way back to camp — as though he already was.

Once Daryl had walked you there, and left you at the tent doorway, he did indeed roll out an old blanket over the grass, to lay back underneath the stars — just as promised.

He was far enough away that he didn't feel like you were right beside him, but still close enough to make out your silhouette against the lamp-lit canvas walls of his tent. That way, he didn't have to worry about walkers — but he didn't have to worry about you, either.

The night was quiet. The full, bright moon beamed down on him like a streetlight and the stars blinked in the sky like peering sets of eyes — staring back at him whilst he looked up. Daryl sighed, and crumpled his packet of cigarettes in his fist, crushing any left inside.

He needed to stop smoking them, because now they'd become tainted by you — and had become another thing that inescapably reminded him of you.

The lingering scent of them on his fingertips alone made him remember just how intoxicating you were. It made Daryl feel like he'd gotten a high from the scent of unbottled moonshine, or from that smile of pure starlight which could make a man go blind.

Though, he'd only had the pleasure of seeing it once today. The rest of the time you'd been pissed, confused, hurt.

He'd probably caused a lot of that — he wasn't that oblivious.

But you were the type who could break his heart without even knowing, and then offer to mend it like it had been someone else who'd done the damage.

He didn't understand how you could act so nonchalant, so blasé, as though you hadn't nearly died, and as though you hadn't just come back from the dead — where Daryl had thought you'd been this entire time.

He laughed, and it almost sounded as cold as the one you'd directed at him earlier.

Merle always called him naive, but Daryl often overcompensated for the fact with blind curses and bruised knuckles from butting heads those who suspected him of being as much.

But it had been the truth.

He was naive — especially when it came to you.

But, Daryl was also angry and hurt. And he didn't know how to fix that without bruising his knuckles — or his ego.

He bit his lip, wetting away the dryness with his tongue, whilst trying not to focus on how dry his throat felt, too. Then, Daryl rested his arm over his eyes.

He didn't feel like watching the stars anymore.

When you awoke, light had filtered into the tent through the mesh netting, speckling over your face like glittering gold as you blinked.

But when you awoke, the man was gone — leaving only another shirt behind in his place.

It almost made you cry, because of how familiar it felt. It smelled like Joe's Bar, of Marlboro cigarettes, of Georgia, and of home.

But you couldn't cry; you hadn't done since the day everything fell apart. So instead, you pulled on your big-girl shirt — the one belonging to the man twice the size of you — and grit your teeth as you threaded your bruised arm through the sleeve, and caught your stitches on the buttons.

You spent the whole morning trying not to notice the glaringly obvious absence in the camp — the men who'd left in search of Merle Dixon. But at the same time, you grimaced at the sight of the ones who hadn't left, the ones like Shane, and Carol's husband — who leered at the women as they washed his fucking underwear.

"Carol, why don't you ask Ed to come and help us," Andrea remarked, glancing towards the man resting languidly by his jeep, "make himself useful instead of just standing there smoking cigarettes."

Beside you, Jacqui laughed a high-pitched laugh, as she wrung out another damp t-shirt in her fists. You had only been formally introduced to her this morning, but her smile was infectious — and for a minute, it made you forget about the anxiety deep in the pits of your stomach.

Carol was quiet, but eventually chirped up once she mustered enough confidence.

"If I knew how to get him to do that, I would have done it years ago," she muttered, and shyly rolled her eyes.

Andrea boomed out a laugh, whilst the others chimed in at the appearance of Carol's unexpected humour. You tried not to let the chuckle wrack up your body, since every slight movement sent shockwaves to your injuries. But at this moment, you didn't really mind.

Carol had a pretty smile, and an even nicer laugh.

Except, her husband didn't seem to think so.

He stalked over with the same bravado Shane had mastered the night before — probably taking inspiration from the other man who wore boots three times his size. You could make out the sneer on his face before he even got within a few steps of you all. It was just that deep.

The man flicked his cigarette in your direction, and it barely missed the toe of your boot.

"What's so funny, hmm?" he jeered, but his tone was anything but light. You didn't have to hear them twice to recognise those words as a threat. "Gotta be somethin' if it's got you ladies so distracted."

Each of the women stayed silent as a grave — as though in some secret pact Ed was unaware of. He sauntered around, weaving in between Jacqui and Andrea, until the latter eventually snapped.

"Is it really any of your business?" she remarked, frustration clear in her voice. "After all, we're the ones doing your laundry."

She thrust the damp clothes she was holding at the man's chest, before letting them fall to the floor. The moment you heard them hit the ground, your hands were already shaking with adrenaline. You knew that look — the one Ed wore — and nothing good ever came from it.

He stepped up to Andrea, his pride damper than the shirt at his feet. "Know your place, little bitch," he hissed, shoving her back with his shoulder.

And chaos broke out.

Jacqui's screams sounded very much like her high-pitched laughs had done, and Lori called for Shane like a broken record that only knew a single name. You wanted to get everyone to calm down. You wanted to diffuse the situation like how you'd been trained to do.

But all you saw was red.

Carol interjected, lacing herself around her husband's arm as she begged for him to stop. "Ed, please don't-"

The man backhanded his wife, sending her to the ground with a single strike.

And that was your queue.

You rushed over, feeling your feet sink into the pebbles deeply with each step. You had a dozen stitches in your stomach, but you would rather pop every damn one open than let him get away with that.

"You dare lay your hands on her?" you roared, approaching the man — the monster — from behind as he loomed over Carol like a shadow of cowardice.

Ed reacted out of instinct, flailing his arm backwards and hitting you across the jaw with his elbow as you tried to pull him away. Immediately, your mouth pooled with the taste of copper, and you spit it out onto the pebbled stones beneath your feet.

You looked over at Andrea, who was dumbstruck as she watched blood drizzle from your lip, before you wiped it away by the sleeve of Daryl's shirt — with your one good arm.

"Get Carol out of here," you said, so quiet that it might as well have been a whisper.

You looked at the man, sizing him up as he stared you down.

"She isn't gonna want to see this."

The evening sunset was a vibrant salmon, tinged with deeper, darker hues the further you got from the sun. Those parts of the sky were the same maroon colour as your jaw — you'd caught glimpses of it in Andrea's compact mirror.

You'd spent the latter part of the day avoiding Shane's lectures, and the women who meant well but fussed over you far too much. So, you retreated back to Dixon's tent — icing the ripe bruise on your chin with a pack from Dale's RV cooler.

The scent of Marlboro cigarettes lingered around you — faint but still present in the fibers of the blankets beneath you, and in your shirt which was now bloodstained. You tried to ignore the pull of it, not wanting to smoke.

The tent puckered as someone fumbled with it, and soon the entrance flap was unzipped — revealing Carol, who timidly ducked inside.

"We meet again," you greeted her, thinking back to how she'd tended to your wounds in this very spot, not even a full day before. "I was going to apologise for beating your husband into the ground, but I couldn't bring myself to say that I'm sorry."

You grimaced as the words left your mouth. They sounded a lot more sharp than you'd intended.

But she still smiled warmly at you, a smile that you didn't think you deserved, and shook her head. The woman sat down on her knees opposite you, coaxing the ice-pack away from your skin for a second to inspect the damage.

"I don't blame you," she said, as gentle as her touch. She smelt like citrus, and summer days as her palm ghosted over your face. "I came to thank you, actually. For being the first to stand up for me."

Your gaze dropped down to where her sleeves had risen up, revealing the yellowish bruises dotted over her arms — in the shape of fingerprints.

"Well, someone had to," you noted, sadly.

She caught the way your eyes lingered, and quickly adjusted her shirt, pulling it back down to her wrists.

"Was it really that obvious?" she chuckled, nervously.

But you felt like she already knew the answer.

Her stance was practiced, even sitting down. She wasn't at all relaxed, hovering on her knees like a small rabbit, ready to dart to safety at a moment's notice. You felt like you were looking into a mirror — one that only reflected the past.

You nodded. "When you know the signs, it is," you admitted, sitting back against Dixon's pillow. "I had my suspicions before."

She hummed in return, acting much more casually around you than she had done a mere moment before. "What gave it away?" she asked — curious more than anything.

Light streamed in through the little plastic windows on the tent, falling in a stream between you — warm against your lap.

"Your hair, for one thing," you confessed, gesturing with your free hand. "You shave it yourself? To stop him grabbing it during fights?"

She remained silent at the accusation, but her eyes gave her entirely away.

You nodded. "They always tend to stoop that low."

And Carol bit her lip in response, not pointing out how you'd done the same with your braids — keeping them tight to your scalp, not even a strand out of place.

She excused herself then, making some remark about how she best ought to go check on her husband, before letting you catch a glimpse of the brave scowl which made its way onto her face as she said it. The sun hung high in the sky as she ducked back out, almost as bright as that full moon had been the night before.

"Hey, Carol," you said, loud enough for her to still hear it, "if he gives you trouble again, don't hesitate to come find me."

The woman nodded once more, and waved you off.

"Just you wait until my good arm heals," you called after her. "My right hook's even better than my left."

Then, you winked — watching as she debated letting out the laugh she had stifled — as you recalled the actual reason that got you hauled off to Georgia in the first place.

Dishonourable discharge, my ass.

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[lepusrufus]

To bargain for immortality pt.6 END

There were little things, really, that ended up putting her doubts and theories to rest. Nicole hadn't been an active person since she was five, so the occasional mild fatigue didn't stand out from her normal routine. The headaches that came and went or the tiredness that accompanied nights when she didn't get enough sleep were simply chucked to her body adjusting to its newfound immortality. Sometimes it takes longer for the Cadou to fully settle in, Esteria had reassured her, talking from personal experience as her own mutation took close to two years to be done changing her body.

All the doubt was wiped from her mind when she woke up one evening, the day after another particularly unpleasant experiment run with Miranda, with a splitting headache. It soon turned downright nauseating and hasty steps took her to the bathroom connected to Cassandra's bedchambers, where she all but doubled over, as much as her position leaning on the sink allowed.

Her initial plan was to simply splash some cold water on her face, but that soon went out the window when her throat and mouth were invaded by the familiar sensation of thick blood coming and pouring out. The white porcelain got stained in dark crimson as her heart seemed to beat painfully against her ribcage, making a small whimper escape blood stained lips. This experience in and of itself was not unfamiliar by now, but her own body apparently taking offence to simply existing was a new and unwelcomed development. An attempt to take a deep breath was made, but that only seemed counterproductive as it sent a stinging ache through her chest, so she settled for holding her breath until the pain subsided. A few shuddering intakes of the oxygen her body seemed to scream for later, the room and her reflection finally seemed to stop spinning.

Her eyes landed on the crimson mess in the sink and she let out an exhausted sigh, but before it could be cleaned, the bathroom door that she had left ajar creaked open.

"Heyy- ooo that looks bad," Daniela's voice came from her side, tone as over the top as always with the grimace that pulled at her features.

"Oh this? What do you mean, just a normal Thursday evening," Nicole replied, voice dripping with sarcasm and hands still shaking on the faucet when she turned on the water.

The other redhead didn't seem phased, presumably being Bela and Cassandra's sister does render one immune to sarcasm. Instead she shrugged and occupied herself with her sister's collection of perfumes that were placed on an adjacent counter.

Nicole gave her a look through the mirror while trying to splash some water on the remaining blood stains. "Did you… need something?"

"Dumbass number one and two are practicing some sword fighting in the garden. Thought you'd like to see," came the reply complete with an eyebrow wiggle that gained her a playful shove.

"Give me a minute to change," Nicole said, finally pushing herself off the sink when the nausea subsided back to a mild headache and her face was free of crimson trails.

As promised, when they entered the back garden that stood between the castle and its extensive vineyard, the faint clinking of metal against metal could be heard. It raised in volume as they made their way to an area where a few logs had been set on the grass, that made perfect sitting spots around what the sisters reclaimed as their small personal arena dedicated to occasional training. The vine covered statues and bushes with colorful leaves made for a pleasant spot to simply spend time in too, her wife currently dressed in light training gear and sword fighting coming as a big bonus to the beautiful surroundings.

The moment Cassandra's eyes landed briefly on her, a characteristic smirk pulled at her lips, their ashy tone left visible from the choice to skip lipstick for the time being. Their sparring match got cut short by a sudden low swipe at Bela's feet, that knocked her off balance and sent her on the trampled grass underfoot.

"Show off," she grumbled at her younger sister when offered a hand to get up. She took it, but continued to glare daggers at Cassandra as she dusted off her pants.

Not that the middle sister noticed, having turned and came up to her wife for a tender good morning kiss. She let the hand not occupied by the sword's handle rest on Nicole's cheek, eyebrows pulling into a frown upon noticing the tired look in emerald eyes.

"Are you feeling well? You look pale."

"Yeah yeah-"

"Oh just some mild gut-puking in the form of blood all over your sink," Daniela interjected, giving a fake innocent shrug when Nicole turned to glare at her. "You might wanna get a maid to clean it up, she did a shit job of it."

"I did not!" Nicole protested.

"You forgot the underside," Daniela hummed. "That was some mad splatter there."

She was rendered mute as the youngest sister moved to the small fence portion that was turned into an impromptu weapon holder to choose something and take Cassandra's place in another sparring match. Her glare was interrupted when she noticed her wife's worried expression.

"It's fine, just a mild headache now," Nicole sighed as she brought a hand up to interlace their fingers and pull Cassandra with her so they could both sit where Laura and Anita were. "Any chance I'm getting another performance? Since I missed the last one," she then said, a sly smile making its way on her lips.

That got Cassandra to grin, fangs glimmering in the early evening's soft light in a way that anyone else would find downright menacing. "Of course," she answered, eyes momentarily moving to her sisters.

It looked like Bela was winning, despite Daniela choosing her preferred twin swords that she wielded with an odd mix of grace and chaos. A slip past her guard and a hit with the ornate hilt of Bela's sword was what it took to put an end to their match, the youngest sister stumbling forward and breaking into a swarm before she had the chance to fully lose balance and fall face first into the dirt. She reappeared in front of the blonde, tongue stuck out and nose scrunched in an annoyed grimace, complete with a middle finger. If the Dimitrescu sisters had one thing in common, it was that all three of them were the world’s biggest sore losers.

"My turn to kick her ass," Cassandra perked up, picking up her well polished gladius.

Daniela, still miffed about her previous loss, didn't offer her the grace of getting into a proper stance. A flash of flies later, the clanking of metal ringed around them as Cassandra pushed her back.

"We said no swarm!" Bela called out from where she had found a seat on the grass, right in front of Laura.

The youngest rolled her eyes but complied, the buzzing completely dying down in favor of quick swipes and blocks. What Cassandra might've lacked in speed, she more than made up for in an impeccable defense, being near impossible to get near her body even with the apparent advantage of having an extra sword. Their fighting came to a standstill soon enough, with Daniela unable to get near while also being too quick to let any major hit land.

"My ladies."

Alexandria's voice called out from the entrance of their little makeshift arena, distracting Daniela enough for her sister to quickly swipe at her feet not unlike she had previously done to Bela.

The Steward flinched for a second when a long frustrated growl was heard from the youngest, but cleared her throat and did her best to keep up her characteristic poker face as she addressed Nicole. "Mother Miranda's assistant is here for you."

Her face fell, annoyance and dread both bubbling in her chest at having her pleasant day cut short not even two hours after waking up. She got up and exchanged goodbyes with the rest of her family while grabbing Cassandra's free hand in a silent demand to see her to the door.

On their way out, she decided that old jeans and a slightly oversized shirt that had survived her high school days was an attire appropriate enough to being tortured. It should've been concerning how at peace she had become with that idea, at least to any person with a sound mind. She never declared her sanity intact though.

"I'll see you later," she told Cassandra once they were at the heavy doors of the castle's main entrance, a thumb slowly tracing her jaw.

Emma was impatiently waiting for her just outside and blame the slight inherent meanness she had learned to let free since becoming a Dimitrescu, but Nicole took immense pleasure from the woman's uncomfortable grimace when she pulled Cassandra down in a deep kiss that went on for ten seconds too long. Small victories in the face of doom.

---

Nicole choked out a sob that walked the fine line between crying and screaming when the knife that looked way too big for the woman's hands came down at her elbow's joint with a gut wrenching crack.

It felt like Miranda had an unbeatable talent to never disappoint when someone thought she had reached the peak of inhumane with her experiments. The poisons were dreadful as was everything before that. The test on how well she can heal bullet wounds from the previous day had been downright cruel, only stopping after the results that showed how only a bullet through the head can incapacitate her for a while. Today's experiment on regenerating limbs was starting to eat away at Nicole's remaining sanity. It obviously started small, with fingers, but Miranda was always so keen on pushing limits.

She turned on her side with the remaining hand pressed to tear filled eyes and nails digging into skin as she desperately tried to find some sort of distraction from the pain and tingling that felt like static in her veins. Her temples were already throbbing with a headache and her vision was spinning due to the nausea. Miranda and Emma were having some sort of conversation to the side, but it felt distant through the deafening ringing in her ears as she put all her effort into not throwing up due to the sheer shock her body was going through.

The amount of time she laid there sobbing completely evaded her, not bothering to keep a mental track nor raising her head towards the clock mounted on the wall. She just wanted the healing to move and get it over with.

By the time she was mentally prepared to stomach the sight, her hand was already stitching together muscles covering the newly reformed bone, together with the beginnings of skin close to the incision. She tried moving her finger and flinched into a whole body cringe at how utterly wrong it felt.

The door creaking open took her attention away from the unsightly muscles twitching as they got placed together and into their places.

"Lord Heisenberg is here," announced a man, donning a white lab uniform not unlike Emma's.

"Just on time," Miranda perked up, a dangerously gleeful look in her eyes.

She got up, leaving the assistant with the job of timing Nicole's healing as she went to greet Karl. It went on for almost another torturous minute before the tell tale click of the timer and Emma noting it down marked that her arm was once again whole.

"How- how long was that?" Nicole asked, tentatively moving her hand. Good as new, with the exact same mobility function and sensitivity. The only thing missing was the beige nail polish applied just the night prior.

"Five minutes and twenty," the woman replied, not looking up from her paper.

Another few minutes of silence passed, that Nicole spent flexing her fingers. A bit of hot rage coursed through her veins when she noticed her ring finger, the matching band she and Cassandra had having been left on the desk upon entering the lab. At least Miranda had the decency of not slicing her hand off with the ring still on it, but she still wanted it back.

It wasn't long before Miranda came back, motioning for her to follow. "Come," she said, waiting for Nicole to push herself off the hospital bed and onto her feet.

A small burst of dizziness later, she was standing and shaky legs were taking her towards the woman. "Can I get my ring back now?" She did her best to keep the edge out of her tone, too tired to face her wrath.

Miranda simply thought for a moment before waving a dismissive hand at her. "Fine, it won't be in the way anymore."

Nicole wasn't sure if that was good or downright horrifying.

Most of the rooms in the underground maze of corridors were unknown to her. The structure twisting and turning in dizzying patterns that were enough to disorient anyone not familiar with the layout. Not to mention the occasional tunnel that stretched for entirely too long that led to one place or the other from the town above.

Nicole found herself following Miranda through one such unknown area, the corridors new to her but the look not dissimilar to every other part of the underground structure. If it weren't for the numbered plaques on the door, she wouldn't even be able to tell this was a different area than the ones she's seen before.

Miranda pushed open a door and led her inside. It was definitely more spacious than the labs and the space was mostly cleared out save from a few tables lining the walls and some cabinets. The only thing at the center was Lord Heisenberg and a long metal table, leather straps fastened to its sides and a circular saw blade attached to a machine above.

Nicole took a couple stumbling steps back, hips hitting the corner of a table and rattling the papers placed on it. It seemed to peeve Miranda, who grabbed her wrist impatiently.

"Come now, we don't have all day," she said while slowly dragging her towards the table.

With every shaky step, her knees felt like jello under her and her ears started to ring anew with the panic and dread settling like ice in her veins. Her legs finally gave way under her and she fell to her knees with a pathetic sob.

"No please. Please I can't," she said, one hand meekly grabbing at the goddess' lab coat.

Miranda bent down on one knee, brows furrowed in the feign concern that only she could have perfected to such an art. "We have to," she started, voice so soft one could easily believe it belonged to someone else. "We must know the limits of your regenerative abilities. You said it yourself that you want to know them."

She had but not like this. Not like this.

"Then use anesthesia. Please just don't-" she choked out a sob before the end of her phrase. Not that it was going anywhere, it was just a pathetic attempt at bargaining for less suffering.

Surprisingly enough, there were few instances since coming to the Village when she felt truly and utterly terrified. Anxious and afraid? Sure. But not even Lady Dimitrescu hiring her, or Cassandra taking an interest in freaking her out or even getting shot made her feel the dread she was feeling then. She would've rather spent eternity on the cold hard stone under her knees than budge an inch.

Miranda pursed her lips and lifted her chin with one hand, expression like a mother hearing her child make an outrageously unattainable request. "You know that will interfere with the results."

"Then local anesthesia," Nicole suggested, holding onto some kind of feeble hope by a thread.

The goddess seemed to actually consider it for a moment before shaking her head. A hundred meek protests and cries fell past Nicole's lips and on deaf ears as she was pulled up by the wrist and back on track towards the metal table. Miranda was incredibly strong despite her rather short stature, so any attempt at pulling back was completely useless.

Once at the room's center, she pushed Nicole against the table, frowning when she refused to get on. With a sigh, she grabbed her chin once again, putting slightly more force in the gesture. Both a warning and witness to her growing impatience.

"If you keep still it's going to be much less painful," she promised, though the validity behind her words were doubtful.

Though there was something in Miranda's tone that almost demanded to be believed without question. It may have been the inherent authority that came with being almost divine, a goddess in all ways that truly mattered. Or something else entirely, common to every piece of the Megamycete's web, down to the finest and farthest roots.

With a barely visible nod, Nicole pushed herself onto the cold surface of the table. It was far taller than she was so Karl had to spend a few good minutes readjusting the leather straps on the sides until they were in the right positions to wrap tightly around her limbs.

"Uh… sorry kiddo," he said in a barely audible whisper as he fastened a strap around her forehead. "Here," he pressed a folded cloth to her lips, that she bit down on to at least try to not crack any teeth.

He seemed almost as much of an unwilling participant as she was, lips pulled into a tight line under the scruffy mustache. The only one seeming rather gleeful there was Miranda.

The leather was digging painfully into her skin, the belts having been tightened slightly too much to prevent movement. Not to mention the uncomfortable position, with her hands tied above her head and starting to feel numb. Her head also seemed beyond foggy, the shallow breaths she was taking doing a poor job of providing her body with oxygen, to which it protested with a heart painfully beating against her ribcage, almost as if the small parasite that nestled around it was taking offence itself.

Another sob shook her body, deafened out by the metal sound of the circular blade when it was turned on. Thankfully it was clean. At least Nicole hoped as much. And sharp. If she was going through this she prayed that she would at least be granted the mercy of a clean cut as opposed to shredding of skin and muscle with everything underneath.

She shut her eyes when Miranda raised her shirt enough to expose her abdomen and, as the saw forcefully came down, screams were muffled both by the cloth in her mouth and the deafening roar of the saw.

---

The feeble knock on heavy ornate doors was answered by the tall woman positioned on guard duty that night. Nicole did not remember her name and at the moment it was the least of her worries.

She took a handful of shaky steps inside before clearing her throat in an attempt to not let her voice waver. "Cassandra?"

"Out hunting with her sisters and the other ladies," the woman answered promptly.

Nicole simply nodded once and made her way into the castle as the heavy thud of the shutting doors echoed around her. Her movements seemed on autopilot, eyes only focused enough to watch her step as she made her way through the familiar path up to her wife's bedroom. She barely registered passing through the first set of corridors, the paintings and priceless decor she had grown accustomed to every day becoming a background blur.

She felt downright dreadful.

Her ears were still ringing slightly and exhaustion made her limbs feel heavy and aching with every step. The headache from earlier was also back in full swing and throbbing painfully at her temples.

A quick look at a golden clock mounted on the wall in the main hall reminded her that it was near dawn so the rest of her family must be on their way home.

She flinched, a small jump that threatened to throw her off balance, at the heavy footsteps that came behind her. Throwing a look over her shoulder she saw none other than Lady Dimitrescu, her mother in law, making her way under the low arch of one of the doors leading into the spacious room. Thin black eyebrows were pulled into a frown at the sight of the much smaller woman, hunched over and all but shivering, with dark circles under her eyes having taken an almost purplish hue and dried tear streaks on pallid cheeks.

"Oh hi," Nicole greeted with a wry smile. "I thought you were out hunting."

Alcina waved a hand dismissively, eyes still focused on every minuscule shake of her shoulders. "Paperwork had to be taken care of."

At the explanation, Nicole let out an oh and shuffled her weight from one foot to the other, unsure of how to politely book it up the stairs and under the mountain of blankets on Cassandra's bed. There was no escape, it seemed, as a large hand came to gingerly rest on her shoulder, leading her further in and towards one of the plush couches lined in front of the barely lit fireplace. "Come sit," she offered, face softening in a gentle motherly smile.

Nicole just nodded absent mindedly, sitting barely on the edge of the white cushions decorated with a beautiful intricate floral pattern. She passed clammy hands on her jeans, now covered in fine powdery ash from the crystallized remains of the discarded half of her body after she retrieved them following the night's experiments. A disgusted grimace pulled at her lips, deciding then and there that the pants had to be burned as soon as possible.

"How did the tests go?" Alcina asked, taking her attention away from the ruined piece of garment and being met with distant eyes.

"Good," Nicole whispered, but before the word could even be fully out of her mouth a sob shook her entire body, coming out accompanied by choked out gasps as she all but doubled over in an attempt to make herself smaller than she already was.

The Lady's eyes widened at the sudden outpouring of emotion, so uncharacteristic for the woman in the few years she had been part of her family. "Oh child," she whispered, hands resting protectively on small shaking shoulders.

"Did-" Nicole started but interrupted herself with another shuddering gasp. "Did she- do the same thing to-... to you?"

Alcina grimaced, expression unseen by the smaller woman currently curled in on herself in her arms. It had been so long since her infection, the pain caused by her body acclimating to the Cadou a distant memory. Something that would forever remain seared in her mind however was the cruel ice in their goddess' eyes as she ran test after dreadful test, pushing the limits of her body to see how much she can actually heal. It had taken months to finally be content with the results, after her body's defensive response had been mutating and turning into the giant hungry beast she kept carefully at bay from that moment on. Instead of answering, Alcina decided that the better option was to rub her back slowly, not unlike she had done to her own daughters countless times before, to bring some comfort.

"You will get through this," she promised, unwavering conviction in her tone.

---

Date: 20th May 2012

Subject: Nicole [REDACTED] Dimitrescu

Mutation experiments - 5 (Regeneration- 4)

Testing the limits of regenerative abilities - regrowing body parts

Subject can regrow limbs (arm, served from elbow - 5'20'') and regenerate after being cut in half. If the body is cut with a 50/50 ratio, the upper half will regrow the lower half, prioritizing brain activity and the Cadou's placement. If the proportions are different in favour of the lower half, the upper one may still be the one taking priority; results vary. Up to 80% of body mass can be regenerated. If more than that is destroyed (eg. dissolved using acid) subject will presumably crystallize and enter a dormant state like others infected with a Cadou.

The discarded body parts crystallize and disintegrate into a stony/ashy mass.

---

Miranda's enthusiasm seemed to slowly dwindle after a few more experiment runs, the same effects John Abbott's mutations that caused his untimely death coming to knock at Nicole's door every so often.

"You see," the goddess had said the last time she had called Nicole down in the underground labs. "John was missing the healing abilities, which led to his infection slowly corroding away at his body until his death. You can heal, so you won't die, but the negative effects are still present. So try not to get hurt too much too often," she finished, not even sparing her a glance.

And that was the last Nicole had seen of Miranda, at least as far as one on one experiments went. The woman would still pay the castle a visit every so often, sitting down with Alcina for a glass of wine and having the rest of the family joining in on occasion, when their discussions didn't stray too far into matters of their cult.

She was right too. There were days when a migraine would rudely wake her up in the morning, or when her chest seemed to ache to the point where she was sure the parasite that made its home around her beating heart was trying to escape. The Cadou truly was a wretched little thing, constantly at odds with her body's defenses and trying to slowly but surely cause damage to the point of death. But if there's one thing that very same parasite had bestowed upon her was just… being really good at not dying. The healing abilities were in a continuous cycle of repairing any and all internal damage the infection may have caused on a not so good day. Those times had her doubling over the nearest sink, or suitable container if unlucky, a waterfall of blood carrying all the damaged tissue that had been replaced flowing from her lips in crimson rivulets.

A cruel fate, one may think. Not her though, for the knowledge of how her family had helped her through the change was at the forefront of her mind each time she had to sit down due to a burst of dizziness. Cassandra rubbing gentle circles on her back while she was coughing up the clogged blood in her throat grounded her beyond belief. Then, when everything was said and done, there was always something to get back to. A short vacation originally meant for business but that Alcina would always prolong for just a couple days so they could all spend some quality time away from the Village and the cult and Miranda's scrutinizing ever watchful eyes. Or the season's first hunting trip, the genuine glee on her wife's face never growing old to her. Even life's more mundane events, like the weekly movie night that had half the family groaning at Esteria's choice of vampire media. Rinse and repeat, forever under the castle's imposing towers and inside ornate inviting rooms, always warm and welcoming, always feeling like home to her.

If that was the price she had to pay for eternity, then so be it.

---

Subject Name: Nicole Dimitrescu

Cadou Affinity: Favorable

Brain Functions: Normal

Subject can regenerate at an incredibly fast rate, although healing slows down with loss of consciousness. Shows a similar mutation to John Abbott; able to detect illnesses by specific smells. The latter mutation causes the Cadou to have adverse reactions, causing internal damage that is however kept at bay with the regenerative abilities.

An unfit vessel for Eva.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Stars Aren’t the Only Things That Glitter

A Drifting Stars AU short, collaborating with @clownwry.

2nd, 3rd, 4th.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Grunkle Ford, look out!”

“Mabel, stay back!”

BANG!

“Mabel… MABEL! HOLD ON! I’M COMING! MABEL!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel looked at the blazing fire, trying to pretend to ignore her great-uncles muttering so she might pick up a swear word, be it alien or English was perfectly fine by her. Mabel didn’t pick up any swears, but she did hear the words “reckless” and “irresponsible” and “inconceivable”. The Listening Game did a fair job of distracting her from the pain on her arm and shoulder. Except when Grunkle Ford’s bandages were a little too tight and she would wince at the friction on her burn.

Still muttering through his teeth, his eye glued to the injury through his single-cracked glasses, he did it again, pulling on the bandage a little too hard, this time making Mabel accidentally let am “ouch!” slip past her lips. Ford looked up at her and his expression grew softer and more nurturing. “I’m sorry, my dear, but really, you shouldn’t have done that.”

“They were gonna shoot you…”

“I don’t care.” Ford said firmly. “If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell you to save yourself and leave me behind, you do so.”

“No.”

The nomadic scientist blinked, slightly surprised by her stubbornness. Only slightly surprised, because she is a Pines, after all. But she is a good kid and in the month they had been traveling the Multiverse, she had never outright defied him like this. “Excuse me?” He wasn’t even stern or angry; he was too surprised (and maybe even a little proud) to properly scold her anymore.

“No. That’s stupid.” Mabel answered, her little cheeks puffed up in determination, her eyes sparkling with the reflection of the fire, a flame of her own in the windows to her soul. “I’ll never leave you behind. We’re a family, we gotta stick together if we’re gonna survive and get home. We need each other. Besides, if the tables were turned, would you leave me behind?”

“That’s an entirely different matter.” Ford said with a small smile on his ruffed-up face; he resumed his work on the burn more gently now and finished wrapping it up, securing the bandage. “I’m old, I’ve lived my life. You take priority.”

“I don’t care.” Mabel said, copying Ford’s exact tone and voice from earlier. The grown man snorted with amusement.

Ford decided to put this little argument on hold, seeing how there was no changing Mabel’s mind right now. And he didn’t want to spend the entire evening rebuking her. “You did do a very good job disarming those hunters. I’m very proud of you.”

Mabel sat up a little straighter and smiled up at Ford. “Thank you.”

Ford smiled at her and stood, moving to his large backpack to fish out the things for tea and dinner, though it would probably only be dried meat and oats. “I’m just glad you’re okay, pumpkin.”

Mabel’s eyes widened as her world was put on pause. She felt like she was being sucked into a time vortex, transported into a memory.

Grunkle Stan was dusting some zombie parts off of his armchair when Mabel was walking by, leaving the kitchen after giving Soos his cure for zombification. Stan noticed that Mabel looked very tired. He smiled at her from her seat, and Mabel ran up to him and climbed into his lap for a big hug.

“Hey, you alright?” Stan asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m just glad you’re okay, pumpkin.” And he gave her a secure squeeze and Mabel happily hugged him back.

Mabel was shoved back into reality, accompanied by a sinking feeling of loss. She missed Grunkle Stan. She missed Dipper. She missed Waddles, and Soos, and Wendy, and the Shack, and Oregon, and California, and Mom and Dad…

Ford turned back to the fire with a kettle and wire-spider in hand, ready to ask Mabel to fetch some water (she always enjoyed being of assistance), but he stopped when he saw her crying with her eyes shut and wiping her cheeks dry with her wrists. Ford was immediately halted and his priorities shifted drastically. Nothing mattered at this moment but making her feel better.

He was swift. Ford scooped up some water from the clean stream into the kettle, then used the wire-spider to hold the kettle over the fire. Giving the water plenty of time to heat up and steam, Ford gently picked Mabel up from her seat on the log, only to hold her close and let her wrap her arms around his neck. He didn’t say a word, being a social-cripple and having no idea what he could say that would make her feel better, so he stayed silent and was simply there for her.

And really, that was all Mabel needed.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning the two humans were lucky to come across a small rustic town in the woods, reminding Ford of the small Tennessee-town Fiddleford grew up in. Except of course there were no humans, but blue-skinned elves with pointy years and the occasional centaur.

Ford had stolen a bit of money from a hunter yesterday, which meant they got to restock on supplies and even buy a cheap breakfast at an outside cafe. Sitting at a table under an umbrella, Ford was going over his plan with Mabel while she munched on her sweetly-cooked purple apples tossed in spices and sugar.

“... so once we reach this cavern here, we’ll reach a very interesting town called Flush Valley. I’ve heard it specializes in building mechanical limbs and prosthetics, but it’s surrounded by rich minerals perfect for building, so we can find what we need easily here. There may even be a day-by-day job I can get to earn a bit of money for food and shelter.”

“I can work, too! Daddy always said I was like a French horse!” Mabel added in excitedly.

Ford chuckled. “We’ll see. I would feel more comfortable if you were working so I could keep an eye on you. Moving on,” The old scientist sipped his strange alien coffee, but it contained caffeine and somewhat resembled his home dimension’s coffee taste, so he drank it. “The way there could be crawling with scavengers. A lot of people come to Flush Valley just barely hanging on by a thread, easy targets for hunting and stealing food and supplies. So we need to keep our guard up for the next two days.”

“Okay.” Mabel said, as nonchalantly as if Ford told her to remember to add milk to a grocery list.

Ford gave her a firmer look and added, “So, if we think we’re being followed, what do we do?”

“We pretend we don’t know and we keep walking calmly.” Mabel replied. “We keep our eyes open for a way to lose them, and where the sneaky-peaky spies are.”

“Very good.” Ford smiled at her. “If we decide to try to lose them, what do we do?”

“Run as fast as we can. If I can’t catch up I get on your shoulders and focus on making them go away, while you get us away.”

“Yes, excellent. What do we do if we decide to confront them?”

“I grab by sling-shot and exploding rocks and hit as many guys as I can. I aim for the knees or feet so they fall and can’t shoot us. Oh, and we stand with our backs to each other so we see everything, together.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, if we are surrounded and I find a way to escape, what do you do?”

“Make sure you go in so you can lead the way!” Mabel answered with a grin.

“N-No, honey.” Ford said gently with a smile, as if informing a kindergartner that 1+1=2, not 11. “If I find a way to escape, you go first…”

“No,” Mabel said, still smiling as she shook her head. “You go first so I can make sure you’re coming.”

Ford sighed and took another sip of his drink. “Okay, if I tell you to run, you…”

“I grab your hand and run with you, making sure no one gets lost.”

“Mabel, no.”

“Mabel YES!” The girl grinned with determination. “You’re stuck with me, old man! You can’t get rid of me!”

Ford was getting annoyed at this point. He pinched the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses up slightly, and growled, “I’m not trying to get rid of you, I’m trying to save you!”

Mabel gave him a very serious look and questioned, “By leaving me alone out here?”

“No! I-...” But Ford stopped and bit his lip. His niece did have an excellent point. As much as Ford was willing to do anything to keep her safe, as much as Ford was willing to sacrifice his own life for her’s, that really wasn’t a good idea.

There was a good chance Mabel could survive without him, at least until she found a nice family to take her in (or, somehow, miraculously, Stanley opened the portal and brought her home, but Ford didn’t dare to hope for that). But she was so young and inexperienced in the Multiverse. At least when Ford was first thrown into the chaos he was an adult and was accustomed to weirdness thanks to his six years of researching Gravity Falls. Mabel was extremely resourceful, imaginative, intelligent, and clever. She was also stronger and faster than many would assume. But she was too trusting. Too innocent. So, not to belittle Mabel or underestimate her, but she was right; she needed Ford, and as noble as it would be to exchange his life for her’s if it came down to it, that would also be incredibly stupid and only buy Mabel a little more time until she was captured or enslaved or killed or even worse.

And of course, only someone as people-smart and clever as Mabel could make Ford see that.

He sighed tiredly. “O-... Okay.” Mabel smiled proudly at him. “Okay, I’ll… I’ll try to be more careful.” Ford promised. “I… I just need you to be safe.”

“Don’t worry, I think we do a pretty good job of keeping each other safe.” Mabel complimented, holding out a bite of her fruit on a fork for Ford.

The old man held up a polite hand and declined, but his stomach turned against him and growled, and Mabel frowned at him, giving Ford a deja vu feeling of his mother forcing him and his brothers to eat their vegetables. So Ford smiled and accepted the sweetly cooked fruit. “Yes, I think so, too.”

[rightsockjin]

Timbs part 2

Hello beautiful people! Merry Christmas and Happy holidays! Since this blog has grown so much even during the time of our temporary hiatus, and this story (Timbs from the dynamite series) continues to get attention, I thought that I'd listen and write a part two! Happy Christmas Y'all! Also, I do want to address some stuff that is in this pic. First off, as a group, the writers at right sock decided to give each member of BTS a permanent girlfriend. So basically, nicknames which will make it easier to refer to other girls. This is the first real place you will see that. Y/N is nicknamed Bunny in this. But Y/N is used as well. Just incase it confused you.

Anyway! On to what we all came here for!

Summary: After your last encounter with your best friend and the words exchanged, you aren't sure where you stand... but maybe you should focus on where you lay...

Rating: M! Big M!

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff. All the good stories are hehe.

word count: Drum roll please....7,378!

Warnings: Stalking, being eaten out, mentions of blowjobs, kink talk. someone walks in during the deed....kinda. Jealousy. General meanness. Naked people y'all. nipple stuff. I think that’s all??

Part one

Master list

He closed the door behind him. It thudded thickly in the small apartment of his that you frequented. It was in the same state as you had seen it the last time you had been over. Boxes were still packed, dust covered the old furniture, save for the couch that had been a combined gift from all of his friends as he was the last to move out, that had come with the appartnemnt appartment, and heaps of bubble wrap and packing peanuts littered the floor. You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes.

Your nose itched and you could feel a sneeze coming on. With a slight shake of your head, you looked over your shoulder and gave your best friend the look. Eyebrows slightly raised at the center, a light smile teased your nude, mint chapstick coated lips. A hint of incredulity mixed with “really?” and some other emotion that you tried to snuff out completely. Something akin to fondness perhaps?

Jungkook had his black shirt covered back to you. His hair was grazing his lower ears and lightly ruffled as he turned to look at you after checking that the door had indeed locked as he forgot to lock his door constantly which made no sense because it was an automatic lock, but somehow, he had already gotten people accidentally walking in on him in less than opportune moments. Namely, this girl who lived near by was always accidentally walking into his apartment thinking it was hers, but you surmised that she couldn’t possibly be that stupid and was coming in purly because she thought Jungkook was cute and single.

You knew this because one time, you had been over and she “accidentally” walked in while Jungkook was in the restroom with a cute little confused face on which fell as soon as she saw you lounging on the couch eating a particularly stringy mango. She stumbled through an awkward apology before quickly closing the door and going to her actual apartment.

But Jungkook was convinced that she was just very lost and very new to the building. You couldn’t bear to break it to him. Or maybe you didn’t want him to realize that she most likely had a crush on him. A creepy, stalkery crush… maybe you should tell him...

Jungkook’s mask sat slightly under his nose. His eyes widened when he noticed you staring, completely zoned out from your light flashback. He blinked in confusion, frozen for a second before he slowly crossed his arms and raised his own eyebrows at you.

You shook your head and scrunched your eyebrows at him then. Your hands held up in question. A stance that clearly said “what are you looking at me like that for? I’m the one judging you here.”

Again, with mirth in his eyes and his nose scrunched slightly, signaling that he was smiling under his face cover, he mimicked your stance. He leaned down slightly to get on your level. His mistake. You would think he’d learn by now.

You smacked the side of his head lightly enough that you were sure it didn’t hurt but also hard enough to get him out of this weird theater mirror exercise thing he was doing.

“Ow? What the fuck, Bunny,” he questioned, closing one eye tightly and rubbing the spot on his head you had tapped as if you had bruised him.

You rolled your eyes but reached up and patted his head lightly before giving his hair a small scratch that you knew he loved as an apology. Without fail, he smiled down at you with squinty eyes and a scrunched nose. The fondness in his eyes reached your own body. A sense of calmness. Your body relaxed.

You made to remove your hand from his hair, but he put his own hand over yours, begging you to keep it on his head for a second longer. You complied, only because you liked to mess with his hair almost as much as he liked for you to mess with it.

Jungkook ripped his mask off as you mused his hair gently. His breathing slowed and he let himself take yet another step closer to you. The scent of sweet pea flowers danced around him like a lullaby.

He was tired. He hadn’t realized he was tired until that very moment, since your outing hadn’t really been something to tire him out. He was usually fairly energetic around you and lunch was hardly an activity that would make him feel tired, but now, a nap was sounding really nice. He wondered if you would nap with him if he asked.

But then your hand was off his head and you were stepping away and the peace was lifted. He snapped his eyes open, a pretty pout decorated his pink lips which went ignored by you.

“You should really unpack all this stuff Kookie. The dust is really obnoxious.”

And then you rubbed the underside of your nose and sniffed aggressively. Jesus, how were you this...breathtaking? He felt the emotion building in his chest. It compressed into his ribs and pressed on all his organs. It grew bigger and bigger until it felt like he would explode. Almost like the weeks before when you had your head between his legs with your saliva dribbled down his cock and onto his-

AACHOOoo!

Jungkook was nearly knocked off his feet with the force of his sneeze. Instantly, the pressure in his chest loosened a bit but not entirely. Not enough. He blinked down at his body, feeling betrayed.

He could already feel his nice slacks starting to squeeze around his middle. He could only stand there in shock as he watched blood flow to his third leg. He had really thought that he had gotten past the phase of his crush on you where every little thing you did turned him on.

But then again, sucking him off while he fingered you in a barely lit room wasn’t exactly a little thing. It was huge. And he wasn’t just talking about his dick.

If he was a braver man, he would have made something of that first encounter. Maybe asked you where you stood. Maybe confessed that as much as he thought you were beautiful in every physical way, he was highly attracted to you. Just you. The you that barged into his room whenever she felt like it. The you that texted him every morning with a synopsis of your crazy dream and used the word dick as a verb, a noun and an adjective at any given point.  The you that liked to bitch at him for every little thing he did because it was out of affection.

But no. You had left that day and neither you nor him had mentioned it once while you hadn’t rejected any of his date invitations, he couldn’t muster the courage to actually ask what your relationship was. Not even in passing. He was starting to wonder if it had actually even happened or if he had imagined it, but every time he goes for his laptop and sees the dent on the edge where it hit the floor, he is forced to recall the sweet scent of flowers and your dripping center.

He had to stop that. If he kept letting his head wonder this way…

Well, he wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, which is why he hadn’t brought it up. Or that’s what he told himself.

“Well bless you,” you said with a slight giggle, “That sounded like it hurt.”

Jungkook forced his awareness away from his crotch, realizing that if he wanted you to not see it, it would be best to not draw more awareness to it himself and the limb that was awkwardly sticking to his left leg.

“A-a little. Maybe you’re right. I really should sweep this place. I just haven’t had time since i’ve been spending so much time out with you.”

You scrunch your nose at him. His cheeks were a little red, though you assumed it was from the cold outside since the tip of his nose was also a bit red. Then, he pushed his hair out of his face, you noticed that so were his ears.

Weird. He only ever got rosy ears when he was embarrassed? Well he should be. His apartment was a mess. He probably shouldn’t have even moved out. You doubted that he knew how to clean his own ass let alone do his laundry. You were going to tell him exactly that, sass locked and loaded but something- maybe it was the way his pants fit or the way that his chest protruded through his shirt or the muscles in his arms- told you to look down.

His thighs were always your favorite part of him. So strong. Rideable. How could you not when he spent so much time making sure that they were solid as a rock. You could salivate, in fact you were salivating thinking of the last time you had your mouth anywhere near those legs and his dick deep in your throat.

If you really focused, you could fool yourself into thinking that he was hard in that instant. But no. Wait. Was it? Was he?

You snapped your eyes back to your friend. Your friend that you wanted to be more than that but you refused to say so, to see that he was looking around the apartment thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you go home for today, Y/N? I should get started on-,” he cleared his throat and visibly swallowed, hoping that if he got rid of you quickly enough, then you wouldn’t have a chance to notice the log that was in his pants.

You on the other hand weren’t sure what to do. His suggestion made you do a double take. Your boundary issues had not been resolved from last time. And this was evident in what you said next.

“Gonna beat it to the last time you got a real blow job instead of asking for one or what? Small dick energy.”

And who else could that have been than you? Your brain caught up to your mouth a second too late to take anything back. The words floated out in the open like an invitation. Well, wasn’t it? Isn’t that what you had meant? Probably. Your brain tended to go that direction when it came to Jeon Jungkook but had you really just offered him a blow job?

There was a second in which Jungkook’s face steadily turned the color of a cherry tomato and he began to sweat slightly. His eyes were wide and he was looking at you like he must have misunderstood. Were you speaking the same language?

His body tensed and blood pumped predominantly to his cheeks or his nether region. He felt a little faint even. Was the room spinning? It felt like it could be.

You watched him reel and try to compose himself. This was similar to the last time you guys had partaken in activities that weren’t usually shared by platonic friends. And like that instance, you felt the urge to run. To get out before he had a chance to don his other persona. The one that makes you weak in the knees and something of a brat.

“Is that like an offer or are you being an ass?” he asked, sass dripping from his tone. He pushed both hands into his pockets, the tips of his fingers grazed his hardened rod, already sensitive despite it not being entirely hard.

You crossed your arms, not sure if you wanted him to take you up on your invitation or if you wanted to retract it.

Jungkook took a step closer to you, waiting patiently for you to find your voice. He wasn’t going to pressure you. As much as he had enjoyed it last time, he couldn’t live with himself if you did something just for his sake.

You leaned against the back of his couch, the head rest was pushed slightly against your lower back, grounding you.

“No pressure, Y/N,” he assured, suddenly feeling like the playful tone that this activity had taken on the last time may seem a little pushy if you really didn’t want to partake once again.

But this solidified in your mind that as much as he seemed turned on, he clearly had enough respect for you to make sure you really were into the situation as much as he was. This was enough to push any feelings of unease aside and focus just on what was being given.

“I mean… honestly, don’t you kind of owe me for last time? I basically did all the work and you just sat there like a rock.”

Jungkook gaped at you, he put a hand over his heart and scooted slightly closer so that there was only a foot of distance between the both of you now.

“You were the one calling the shots babe. If you wanted me to do something more than just shake that,” Perfectly sculpted and hard work evident, “ass then you should have said something.”

His vibrato dropped for a second, his eyes met yours, “I’d do anything you ask of me, Bun.”

Your heart palpitated wildily in your chest. The words he had spoken to you that night came back to you then. You dreamed of those words. Hoped he would say them again in a different setting but never had even acknowledged that it had even happened, so you were left only with dreams and foggy memories of the way your name sounded on his sweet lips and the three words that you craved to hear.

He’d probably said it in the heat of the moment. The emotions were high and your climaxes had just...well climaxed so maybe it wasn’t that he L-worded you. It was that he L-worded what had just happened.

The issue then was that you did mean them. You meant when you said that you L-worded him so the blow of your relationship staying exactly the same as it had been before, nearly made you want to cut ties with him completely out of pure embarrassment. But you couldn’t. Because he didn’t let you. Any time you didn’t answer your phone, he was at your door. Any time you avoided set dates, he’d find you. The jerk wouldn’t let you leave, and you were too weak to let him go anyway.

But then there was that sparkle of...something, in his big eyes that made him seem so genuine and willing. Subconsciously, he licked his lips and you could only imagine those same lips on you. His head between your legs.

Could you take his offer? Did you have the courage to ask for what you wanted?

“A-anything?”

Junkook’s teeth made an appearance before he chuckled lowly, “Do I make you nervous? Is- is that’s what’s going on here?” He asked, gesturing between you two with one finger. Confidence poured out of every pore.

Instantly, you scoffed. Because no. Jungkook, baby boy, bunny teeth Jeon didn’t make you nervous in the slightest. But then why did your voice get stuck in your throat? Why did your mind go blank? Why were you fidgeting incessantly?

Jungkook hissed, a laugh chimed deep in his throat, “Who would have thought that the only thing I needed to do to get you to shut up was to offer to do you? Wish I would have known this years ago! I would have offered more often.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles flexed against his shirt. Your body thirsted at the sight. What would he look like on top of you? Pinning you down?

Your eyelid felt heavy. Lust coursed through your body. If you could just speak-

“So what will it be? Want me to eat you out? Fuck you? Spank you? Or are you more of an orgasm denial type of girl? You know, if this is going to work out, we should really talk about those kinks. Maybe think of a safe word? Or are you not that kinky? Cuz I’m pretty kinky so we should definitely talk hard limits as well-”

You watched him monologue in complete shock. Did he think that this was going to be a common occurrence? No. You didn’t usually sleep with guys just for the hell of it unless you were never going to see them again, and Jungkook clearly did not fit that criteria so no. You couldn’t just casually sleep with your best friend.

You opened your mouth to tell him this when you suddenly tuned back into the conversation.

“-and I mean… I know it might have been a bit fuzzy but I’ve had fun on our dates so far so I guess it’s natural that we take this to the next level? If- If that’s okay with you! Mama always told me that a gentleman never rushes his woman. Not that you’re mine! Or like that I own you or anything like that! No, no, I just mean that I like you and well you like me and like… the dates? So we’re like together? A couple? Should we have that conversation as well? I don’t know… what do you think, Y/N?”

You blinked at him in complete shock. Had you been dating Jungkook for the last couple of weeks and hadn’t noticed?

In hindsight, he had been paying for some of your meals and while he had done this on occasion, it had become more of a regular thing. He’d also been a lot more clingy than he had been. He’d even tried holding your hand  a couple of times only for you to panic and pull away.

All of this information seemed to hit you like a ton of bricks. Oh my God… You had been dating Jungkook! How the hell did you miss that??

When you didn’t answer, combined with the horrified expression on your face that he had no way of knowing wasn’t complete disgust at the idea of him touching you, Jungkook feel like a total idiot.

To him, it seemed clear that the last thing you wanted was for his nasty hands anywhere near you. Couldn’t he take a hint? Clearly not, because you hadn’t so much as tried to kiss him on the cheek and now here he was offering to eat you. Talk about jumping some steps.

He took a step back, trying to give you some room so as not to force himself on you but he could feel his heart constrict. He was not gonna cry. He was not gonna cry. He was not gonna- oh…

Tears pooled in his pretty eyes. They burned with emotion and he really wanted nothing more than for you to leave and never speak to him again while at the same time wanting to jump into your arms and be comforted.

Regardless of his feelings, he stayed rooted to the spot he was standing in, his hands folded neatly before him as he bowed his head in a small apology.

“Oh...I uh… I overstepped. I’m so sorry, Y/N… I didn’t mean to- to make you uncomfortable.”

He balled his hands into fists trying to distract himself from the emotional pain of the blow you had dealt.

You on the other hand, were struggling to come to terms with what was happening. How did you stop this from spiraling further? And.. was he crying? No! He couldn’t be crying! You had to stop this. He may be obnoxious and a baby but he was apparently… your… obnoxious baby!

Without thinking much, you closed the distance with one big step and wormed your arms around his torso. You shimmied your head under his chin. Jungkook seized for a second. Unsure what he should do.

But as the shock wore down, he let his body relax and wrapped his strong arms around your body as he was shocked with emotion. At the end of the day, you were his best friend and if he was going to be consoled after a girl broke his heart, it would be you who would do it, even if that girl who broke his heart… was you.

But then, why were you kissing his neck softly? Was he imagining it? No. Because in the next second, you were grabbing his chin with your thumb and forefinger- they were ice cold- and you were pulling his face to look up at you.

When your eyes connected, your heart shattered. The pools of tears turned to streams in the mountains of his cheeks then conjelled at the valley between his collarbones.

Of course, on top of his good looks, he was a pretty crier. That was so unfair. Almost as unfair as the beautiful fan of eyelashes that caught his sparkling tears. And the voice that could only belong to an angel that he possessed.

You couldn’t help the slight smile that crossed your chapstick lips and the fond scrunch of your nose before you closed the three inches or so of air that divided you. When your lips settled onto his, you felt rather than saw him freeze for the third time that day.

His lips were a little salty and a little minty. Vaguely, you remember him applying and reapplying his chapstick all day. Now you wondered if he had been doing it out of nervousness.

Then his hands were in your hair, pulling you closer, balled at the nape pleasantly. He was breathing hard. Like he’d run a marathon or danced a full concert.

His lips were pressed so firmly onto yours that you were sure they would swell and bruise after this. You let all semblance of control be taken from you. One of his hands slid down to the arch of your back tentatively. Like he was scared to break you or that you would tell him to get off.

You arched your back with his hand, pressing your high necked cotton shirt into his chest. You could feel his heartbeat through the fabric of his own shirt and the muscles that covered it.

With a sigh, you opened your mouth as he opened his lips and sandwiched your top one within his own.

You could feel that he was still crying, but you weren’t exactly sure why. You could ask later. Right now, all you wanted, all you knew he needed, was for you to kiss him and make it all better. To fix whatever it is you had done. You could piece him back together if you tried hard enough.

So when he began walking you backwards towards the couch, you didn’t fight. The hand on your back moved over to your hip. His lips were connected to yours, open wide, his tongue explored the wet cavern of your mouth. Teeth clashed awkwardly, the kiss was out of sync. You let him maneuver your head whichever way he wanted with the hand that was still firmly in your hair. He leaned over you. His body seemed to completely incompace yours. Your back was arched almost forty five degrees. It wasn’t painful at all. Instead, it pushed your hips flush against his.

His member, which had shrunk significantly only seconds before, was now growing again, filling with the erotic arousal that pulsed in his veins. A hulk in disguise was being pulled from the Bruce Banner you were so used to. And you were all too eager to let him show you this side of him.

Like a man on the brink of drowning, he pulled his mouth from yours. You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes. In a split second, he leaned down and picked you up from the knees. You wondered if he would carry you to his room or throw you over his shoulder, but he sat you down on the back of the couch before he placed a quick peck to your lips.

Then, like the sadist he was, he pulled away again, smiling up at you through red eyes. He wasn’t sure what this meant. If this was a sign that you too were too scared to bring up the relationship and the conversation that could change everything, but that could wait for another time. Right then, all he wanted was to show you, with his tongue, with his mouth, with whatever limb you let him, that he was falling for you. Hard.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes. A sigh escaped your lips. If you opened your eyes, would it be over? Would he ask you to leave? Would it once again go back to how it was for the last couple of weeks?

Eventually, you did open your eyes. Jungkook could see the fear and unsteadiness in them. The red around the brown made you hurt deeply in your soul. A tender hand reached out to cup his cheek. The light scratch of your freshly done nails was pleasurable to his senses. Goosebumps. Then a strong shiver. And he felt himself melt for the girl he had known for so long. And you for the man whom you had watched grow from a frightened boy.

“Are you going to touch me or are you going to punish me for all the times I left you high and dry,” you laughed. Even in this tender moment, you couldn’t hold your tongue, but Jungkook didn’t mind. The engine of his brain was whirring and he could hear, all he could see and feel, was you...you...you. Nothing but you and the way your hair hung under your chest and covered your left eye. Nothing but your chest rising and falling and the smile on your kissible, bruised lips.

How could he help himself? The answer? Would always be you.

He kissed your nose, then your cheek. An eskimo kiss. You giggled. It was the most beautiful music to his ears.

“You want me to Bunbun?” Internally, he cringed at his overly affectionate name but you smiled brighter and the insecurity left as soon as it came.

“Is that my name now?”

“If you want it to be, or you could choose another one?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, now that you were almost level with his eyes- though now you were a bit taller than him. You shrugged.

“I like it. Bunny, Bun, BunBun, any variation.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

“Who knew you were this cheesy, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully as you opened your legs so he could slot himself between them. You pulled him closer and wrapped your legs around his waist. A mischievous smirk crossed your lips.

“What’s with the face,” he asked, sniffling a little.

“What face,” you asked, feigning innocence.

“This face,” he countered, gesturing vaguely at your eyes.

“Oh this? Ah well you see,” and then without ending your thought, you let yourself fall backwards with your legs and arms wrapped tightly around his frame. He was much heavier than you and clearly more muscular but with the weight distribution you were able to pull him over the back of the couch and twist both yourself and him so you landed on the cushions. His body atop yours.

By the look on his face, he clearly had not expected you to pull him, nor did he expect for his center to land directly on yours, but the shock gave way to the joy and fun that tended to encompass your everyday encounters.

His high pitched giggle of a laugh made an appearance which caused a multitude of butterflies to flutter through your intestines and chest. He relaxed into you, laying his head cautiously onto your breasts, pushing his middle away from your heated core. (yes, he noticed)

He could hear your heart beating against the- hehe squishy- lump of fat on your chest. Instantly, he knew that he could spend eons on your bosom uninhibited and satisfied.

But the pulse of his confined member made his head swirl with thoughts less than innocent.

When your nails lightly scratched at his back and the smallest, lightest moan left your lips, he knew you must be on the same page. Or at least, he hoped. Spurred on by the heavenly shapes and your inquiry from a couple seconds before, Jungkook picked his head off your chest and hovered over your left breast.

There was a question in his eyes as he looked between your boob and your face. One which you couldn’t answer verbally as your heart rate picked up and the lust poisoned your veins.

With the slightest nod, he had everything he needed to lean down and lightly nip at the mound through the thin material of your beige shirt. The warmth of his breath traversed the stitches easily. It sent pleasant shivers through your body, settling in your core.

He nibbled softly around what he hoped was your nipple, before he kissed the center of the mound with tender lips. His eyes stayed looking up at yours, searching for any signs that he should stop. You bit your lips and took a deep breath, dropping his questioning gaze and letting him take the reigns once again.

Jungkook felt you relax into him. Relief flooded his chest. With a little more confidence, Jungkook looked with his mouth for the hardened bud of your breast and pulled it softly between his teeth. He was rewarded with a moan, only slightly louder than the one before and he realized, he wanted you screaming. He wanted you to moan his name. Hear your voice penetrate through the walls of his apartment and disturb the neighbors. This was his new goal.

“Y/N,” he said softly trying to get your attention. Instantly, you looked down from your position, your pupils were blown wide. A beautiful sight.

“Is it okay if I-” and then his confidence waned and so he gestured to your shirt with his eyes a couple of times. You smiled at him.

“Mhm, go for it Kookie.”

Was this what it felt like to be called a good boy? Because Jungkook loved it. He needed more. More. More.

Eagerly, Jungkook untucked your shirt from your pants and bunched  it up right under your boobs. The expanse of skin that he had exposed seemed like an oasis in a desert. He couldn’t help the pull of gravity that connected his lips to your stomach. They were not soft, nor gentle. They were fast and more pecks than anything. They tickled your skin as he tried to cover every single open spot with his love.

He worked his way up and nudged your shirt higher with his nose.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Jungkook?” You asked exasperated.

“Can I take this off?”

You groaned, “Yes. Take it off. All of it, my shirt, my pants, my underwear. Whatever you want. You have my permission.”

Sheepishly, Jungkook obeyed. You raised your arms over your head and arched your back to make it easier for him to undress you.

He pulled it off swiftly, ruffling your hair in the process. He tossed the shirt aside, excited to see what he was unwrapping. He wasn’t disappointed. Had you known you would be undressing for someone today? Or did your undergarments always consist of lavish fabrics and sexy shapes?

Jungkook didn’t care. He just felt honored to be able to see it. The see through fabric held together by underwire did little to hide the prize behind the clothing. Your nipples stood pert and puckered under it all. Begging to be released. He wondered if your underwear matched.

It was weird. The things one noticed when something monumental was happening. Like the golden stiching that held the bra together, or the way that the underwire dug into your skin to hold your perfect breasts in place.

Then in a second, he was moving again, frantically unbuttoning your pants and ripping them off your body without hesitation. He must know. It was life or death for him   to know if your underwear matched.

He tossed the pants in the opposite direction of the discarded shirt. He watched it fly over a lamp and land on a box that he thought had his art supplies. With bated breath, he turned to look at you. It felt as if his whole life had been leading to this moment.

And yes. The answer was that you were wearing a set. His mouth salivated as the scent of your arousal hit his nose. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face in your folds and die.

But he slowed down and took in every inch of your body. He wanted to remember it. Every freckle, every curve. He wanted a picture to hang in his bathroom or to draw you on his ipad so he could use it to jerk off when you weren’t around because after this, he knew that no other image would do it for him. Not anymore

He watched your chest heave. He looked up at your face again, asking for permission even though you had already given it to him.

“Jungkook, if you don’t touch me in the next five seconds I’m gonna bite your dick off,” you growled.

Oof… that was not one of his kinks, thank you very much, but it was the last push he needed, because he slithered down your body and pulled your legs around his shoulders staring at the promise land between your legs.

He could already see a bit of your natural lubricant running down your lightly covered slits.

You watched him, entranced by how hypnotized he seemed by your entrance. A laugh gurgled at your throat.

“Wow, if I knew that all it would take to shut you up was for me to wrap my legs around your head, I would have done it sooner,” you teased.

But the laughter died on your lips as jungkook opened his mouth wide and licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit. Even with the fabric in between his tongue and your skin, it felt like heaven.

“Fuck, Jungkook…” your hand flew to his hair, tangling in the locks of deep noir that you loved to braid when you two sat together watching a movie.

He kissed up and down your lower lips lovingly, lickig his lips as if it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted in his life.

He hummed, sending a long vibration to your core which clamped around thin air as if trying to stop it from leaving.

“I can’t wait to really taste you, Bunny… fuck you’re delicious…” Every word was like a strike to your center. Arousal gushed from your entrance that made jungkook’s eyes sparkle in earnest enthusiasm.

Without asking, he pulled your underwear to the side, and buried his face in your juices. A bit of self consciousness wormed its way into your brain. He could be lying about how it tastes. Did it smell okay?

But the devilish sounds of him slurping and sucking at your folds pushed the thoughts away. He held your ass up, pulling you closer and closer to his face. He never felt like he was quite close enough. His nose brushed continuously against your clit and when he noticed the way you screamed under your breath every time it happened, he made it his mission to continue to do just that as he laved at your pulsing hole.

You had been hiding all of this from him. The paradise between your legs. The treat at your center. He wouldn’t let you hide from him any longer. He’d rather perish than to go one more day without your center at his lips.

Short, consecutive moans fell from the petals of your lips. Your orgasm built slowly at first, not coming to a head- both literally and figuratively and he could tell. He pushed his tongue into your entrance. Your walls closed on it, trying to keep it inside. His name came from your lips like a prayer. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted you to scream his name. To never be able to think of another doing what he was doing to you in that moment, so when your eventual crash came, he was less than satisfied.

You were breathing heavily. Your legs twitched. Jungkook ripped his face from your core only because you pulled harshly at his hair. From his nose to his chin, he shone with your cum. If there was anything hotter than that you couldn't picture it.

But then he was standing, and he ripped his belt from the loops and began to undress.

Looking over his shoulder as he pulled his pants down he said, “Take off your bra and underwear. Are you on the pill?”

Shocked, you followed his demands, though they were given loosely. You shook your head no and he gave you one nod of confirmation.

“I have condoms. You’re not allergic or anything right?”

Again you negated his question with a shake of your head and he half smiled.

“We could stop if you want-”

“Don’t be a fucking tease, JK,” you rolled your eyes and spead your legs, hooking one on the head rest of the couch so he could see your abused lips which were dripping for him.

His eyes widened only for a second, but then he tore his shirt off and scrounged for his wallet where he kept a condom. He ripped it open with his bunny teeth and pulled his underwear off unceremoniously.

You watched in fixed fascination as his cock sprang free of its confines, so hard that it looked painful. It was bound to feel good.

He rolled the condom on carefully before he situated himself between your legs and wiped your juices from his face. He was partially on his knees and partially standing. It was easy to find your entrance with your legs spread so wide.

When his head pushed in, you let your head fall back. Maybe it was because you already had one orgasm under your belt or maybe Jungkook’s dick was just a good fit but pure pleasure filled your body. He watched your reaction, gritting his teeth as your walls clamped down  around him, resisting his entrance.

“Does it hurt?”

You gurgled something that you couldn’t make out but Jungkook seemed to understand because he nodded and pushed in farther, slowly. He bottomed out, his balls gently hit your ass and your vagina clenched, feeling every ridge of his member within you.

“Fuck… Y/N… I… I don’t know how long I can last…”

It was so sensitive. Every little twitch of his dick felt monumental. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you could last either.

“Move,” you managed.

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He pulled out slowly then slammed back into you. Your skin clapped loudly in the mostly empty apartment. You whimpered. Your back arched. He pulled out again, then slammed back in. His pace was marked. Timed. It made your boobs jiggle as he grabbed your hips to help you meet his movements.

Cute little ‘ah’s filled his ears. They got higher pitched as you neared your end. Jungkook couldn’t believe his luck. You were so tight. So wet and the way your walls closed around him made him grow close to his end much quicker than he ever had by hand.

“Y/N… I’m gonna… I’mma…”

But you beat him to it. Your pussy clamped down and fluttered around him as your second orgasm crashed upon you.

You moaned his name as he continued to pound into you. Whines and pleas went unheard as he sped up. He needed you to know who you belonged to… in like a totally consensual way.

You were so sensitive, but the pain of over stimulation gave way to pleasure far too soon and a third orgasm consumed you.

In pure shock, Jungkook grunted and moaned, your vagina got even tighter around him. And he came violently, with his dick mid thrust and his name bouncing off the walls in the tone of your exhausted voice.

Spurt after spurt of white, hot cum spilled from his member and into the condom. He was so caught up in his pleasure that he didn’t notice nor hear the front door open.

Both of you heard a gasp and footsteps. Jungkook, mid orgasm, snapped his heavy head to the sound. To his complete surprise and embarrassment, there stood the aloof neighbor that was always walking into the wrong apartment.

At first, you were embarrassed, being naked was not something you did frequently in the presence of others, but then you were upset. Angry. How stupid could one girl be? Shouldn’t she learn that this was not her place after a billion and one mistakes?

For a second, all three of you were frozen. Jungkook’s orgasm finished and his cock quickly deflated. He jumped to action quickly, throwing his body over yours to cover you before he looked back at the neighbor and said, “this isn’t your apartment!”

Over Jungkook’s toned shoulder, you watched her eyes dart to his exposed ass before they filled with tears.

“Oppa…” she said under her breath, before the tears streamed and she turned on her heels and hurried out.

Your blood boiled. It seemed you were right. She wasn’t stupid at all. She had a crush on your… person? Whatever he was. He was yours- in a ‘I want to be yours and like it’s totally okay for you to say that’ kind of way, and you were not going to put up with some random girl who clearly didn’t have boundaries.

Jungkook looked down at you, his cheeks were red and you could tell he was extremely uncomfortable.

Carefully, he pulled his softened member from your core and made a show of removing the condom then disposing of it. You began to put your underwear and bra back on, watching him walk around his apartment butt naked. Would he say something? Or would you have to bring it up?

After minutes of silence, you decided you would have to be the one to break the awkwardness.

“So uh… do you know what her actual apartment is? Maybe we can put a note on your front door for her to remind her,” you half joked, standing to find your shirt and pants, but settling instead for the button up he was wearing before.

Jungkook pulled his shorts on, his back was to you. There was a tenseness in his muscles that wasn’t going away and something in the air struck fear in the pit of your stomach.

“She lives next door.”

Something about the way he said it made you feel like it was a confession of sorts. It made you want to run.  But instead, you sat in his shirt as he rifled in his boxes for a pair of more comfortable pants before you decided to drop it for now, knowing that whatever it was that was hanging in the air around you wasn’t something you were ready for.

“Jungkook, where's your broom?”

“Uh…,” there was a hint of a laugh in his voice and some of the pressure lifted from the atmosphere, “was I supposed to buy one?”

You rolled your eyes for the millionth time that day and berated him for not having bought the basic necessities for his home. Everything felt lighter, but still like you were trending on eggshells. It felt like instead of taking a step forward, you had taken six steps back. You were no more clear on what you were or what to do than you had been the last couple of weeks.

You helped him unpack that day, because you knew he wouldn’t do it on his own. He joked with you as if nothing had happened, and you sassed him all the same but something was off… and you didn’t know if it could be fixed without it first breaking you both.

[hotdogct]

under the same sky ||| teaser

“An age where you feel like you could love anyone, where you put everything on the line for the smallest of things. Eighteen. Adults say that it’s an age where we laugh if a leaf tumbles by. But back then, we were more serious than any adult, more intense, and had our strength tested...That was how our eighteen was beginning.”

-Sung Shi-Won, 응답하라 1997.

Synopsis: 1999. Amongst the sea of white raincoats and balloons belonging to Club H.O.T. you befriend Kim Jungwoo - a boy with a secret - who immediately fills your world with vivid color. With the new millennium approaching almost as quickly as high school graduation, your heart belongs to one man only: Kangta. And as his own future looms in the distance, Jungwoo can’t decide if merely idolizes the man, or if he wants to be the next Kangta.

He is certain of one thing, however: he is absolutely smitten by you.

Pairing: Student!Jungwoo x (f) Student!Reader

Genre: late 90′s!au. fluff, slice of life. friends-to-lovers, angst-ish. painful ending, you’ve been warned. 💀 Word Count: 10k++++ (teaser: 1.5k) Release Date: ???

Snoopy0219: how am i going to find you tomorrow! Snoopy0219: should i sing out ‘baaa baaaaa’ like i’m looking for a sheep in a pasture?? Baabaakangta: hahahhahahahahhahahaaaa please Baabaakangta: would you actually?? Snoopy0219: ;) you underestimate me Snoopy0219: do you have a pager?? lets exchange numbers Snoopy0219: or you could dress up as a sheep hehe Snoopy0219: that would be one way to have kangta notice you!!! Baabaakangta: >:( not. funny. Baabaakangta: i’ll be wearing a cow print hat, i’ll have a snoopy related gift sitting outside my bag?? Snoopy0219: okay!! i’ll go up and down the line ‘baa baaaaaaa’ing until i find you!! ^__^ Snoopy0219: see you tomorrow, sheep!!!!!!

You nervously look around as you settle into your spot in line, in no immediate rush to sit down on the hard concrete. While there weren’t many others amongst the crowd, it dawns on you you aren’t the only one sporting a big, fluffy, cow print bucket hat. Thinking back to your conversation with Snoopy the night before, you pull the small dog plush you had bought as a gift for your new friend out of your drawstring bag, making sure it would be visible to anyone passing by. 

Time slowly passes once you sit. At first you’re eager to fidget with your pager - sending a quick ‘8282’ to Snoopy, checking nervously every few minutes for a reply. Eventually the device vibrates in your lap, notifying you that she was on her way. The atmosphere was getting livelier by the minute, with fan groups dispersed neatly all around the perimeter of the arena, identifiable immediately by the color of their balloons and raincoats. Fan club leaders equipped with bullhorns led their respective contingents in song and chants, a preview of the many performances to come later that evening. Club H.O.T. was no exception, with girls going up and down the ever-growing line handing out support goods and spare white balloons, while ‘Hope’ played on repeat through a boombox towards the front of the queue. When you first arrived, the unexpected fervor of fanchants made you flinch, but after a couple of minutes you found yourself joining in, mindlessly adding your voice to the collective. 

All of your senses were overwhelmed. There wasn’t much time for your mind to ruminate anxiously about finally meeting Snoopy face to face. Nothing about her had seemed dangerous - which is why you extended the invite in the first place. On the very slim chance that she turned out to be a creep, she’d be insane to harm you in such a crowded place. You weren’t really worried about getting along with Snoopy - you knew that wouldn’t be a problem from your extensive chat logs. Rather you were terrified of what she would think of you - if she would even want to be your friend after meeting you in person...

“Baa baa?”

Your pulse increases rapidly, hearing the agreed upon saying that you and Snoopy had laughed about last night. But when you stand up and turn around to get a good first look at your new friend, your jaw drops open.

Standing before you, scratch that - above you is a...boy? He towers over you, black hair with messy overgrown bangs that surely had to impact his field of vision, framed in contrast by the hood of his standard issue white raincoat. His features were round - expressive eyes, button nose, full cheeks and chapped lips, currently pressed together and curved upward in a smile. He blinks once, twice, tilts his head slightly to the side, much as a dog might. 

“Baa baa? It’s me, Snoopy.”

Unbelievable, you think to yourself. It takes you a moment to find your voice amidst the living nightmare you suddenly were inhabiting, but you knew you had to be assertive and stand your ground.

“Did she really send her brother to prank me?! Get lost.”

If the boy was insulted, he sure didn’t look it. He was unfazed - the same soft smile remained on his face despite your hostility, as if he was aware of something you weren’t.

“Sheep, it’s really me, honest.” 

“Prove it.”

You regret your words the moment they leave your mouth. Without hesitation or warning, the boy swiftly closes the gap between you two, his face too close for comfort as it grazes past your own; his hot breath tickling your forehead, cheek, and finally your ear, where he whispers:

“I know aaaaallllll about that dream you had the other day, the one where you ran into Kangta at the convenience store and then, you know...~~’ 

Stunned into silence, cheeks-practically-burning-off-of-your-face-they're-so-red, you resist your immediate urge to slap this guy across the face, the nerve of the pervert…! Instead you thrust your arms out, making contact with his chest and successfully managing to push him away. He stumbles two, three steps back, his hands up in defense.

“T-that was in confidence, you jerk!” you stutter out, looking down at the ground and praying your beet red cheeks would calm down sooner rather than later, covering them with your hands.

The boy laughs - rather loudly, melodically, and pulls a pager out of his back pocket. Seconds later, the telltale notification lands on your respective device. The sharp features of your face softened slightly at the realization. Snoopy, he really was...

Lifting your head back up, you scan the boy standing in front of you over once, twice - this time taking notice of his lanky frame, narrow shoulders, tiny waist. Certainly non-threatening, but you’re still skeptical.

“I’m really sorry, it was never my intention to mislead you. Let’s start this over.” the boy clears his throat, and then bows, softly. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m Snoopy, but since that hasn’t really worked out...you can call me by my actual name - it’s Jungwoo.”

“Uh-huh, Jungwoo. Is this how you pick up girls? Chat them up on Club H.O.T. and then-”

“I wasn’t lying about my love for H.O.T.!” He interrupts you, hands waving wildly in the air. “I think they’re the coolest!” 

At this he steps back and begins dancing the all too familiar choreography for “Candy”, singing out loud to the chorus timidly. You dimly recall Snoopy Jungwoo mentioning the hours he would spend learning each new dance routine, and the effort clearly showed - his movements bright and sharp throughout the chorus. You could’ve sworn he was defying gravity when he jumped - you had never seen someone so lightweight on their feet before.

And yet your expression was unreadable - mind a blur on account of the entire situation unfolding in front of you. Jungwoo notices this as he finishes, the smile dropping from his face as he catches his breath. Silence falls briefly between you both.

“...you really think I’d travel all the way here from Gimpo for a joke?”

There was now a tinge of sadness apparent in Jungwoo’s voice, and guilt washes over you in a sudden, cold wave. You can feel his eyes on you, the weight of your initial cruelty and skepticism like a hundred stones in each pocket.

“I love dancing, I love singing,” he continues. “I genuinely think H.O.T. are the best, are the coolest. I’m studying to be an engineer - I love school, I get good grades. Why can’t I enjoy both things?” When you fail to come up with any semblance of a retort, Jungwoo sighs, shifts his weight back and forth on his hips. 

“That's why I didn’t tell you the truth. It’s why I’m here now. If word got out back home that I was a card carrying Club H.O.T. member...” he fishes around for his wallet in his back pocket, fumbles through the card slots until finding his membership card, showing it to you with shaky hands, “I wouldn’t hear the end of it.”

There, printed in clean handwriting, was his name: 김정우.

You believed him by now - honestly you had the moment your pager went off while he was standing right in front of you. Snoopy, Jungwoo - whatever they wanted to call themselves - was your friend. What difference did his gender make, anyways? With a firm mental reminder to not share any of your dirty daydreams about Kangta going forward, you decided to finally drop your guard. It was time to have some fun.

“Some advice?” Jungwoo looks up at you upon hearing your voice, in the middle of putting his membership card back in his wallet. “If you don’t want your friends to find that card, maybe don’t carry it in your wallet.”

Jungwoo struggles for a moment before figuring out you were screwing with him. Once he puts two and two together, it doesn’t take long for his boisterous, musical laugh you heard minutes prior to fill the space between you and him, head thrown back to the late afternoon sky. It was now his turn to feel flustered - although his cheeks seemed to take on a much more flattering pink tone to them when embarrassed, a trait you were quickly envious of. An unspoken concession occurs between the two of you as you sit down.

To Jungwoo, however - it felt much more like falling.

authors note: my first ‘big’ fic!!! my baby!!! she’s very much still a work in progress, but after nearly 2 months of wanting to commit to writing something longer and then sitting on my bum lol. this is what i’ve got so far, but i do have a full outline and i’m chipping away at it day by day. any kind of feedback or general excitement for this would be so appreciated 🥺

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 6: Level-Headed

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

You meet Nightwolf. Turns out that he's a really good dude. Liu Kang is still having a tough time but he is seeming at least a bit more like himself. He's got a level-head but now you're the one who can't keep it together. And who could blame you?

A/N: I am just so happy that other people like reading the nonsense I write. I know it's not the best but I'm having fun writing it and it's even more fun getting to enjoy it with people <3 Sorry I'm so sentimental lately. Just feeling really loved and I want to spread that love~

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The next day was awkward but you weren’t biting each other’s heads off at least. You were both too tired, it seemed. Liu Kang had a big red comical handprint on his face that morning but it faded by the afternoon. You were both unhappy but you supposed this might have been progress since you weren’t snapping at each other. Either that or you’d taken ten steps backwards and said things you didn’t mean and had done irreparable damage to your friendship.

By the evening you were drawing close to the spot on the map, or at least you thought you were. “Look.” You gestured to a cabin in the distance. You could barely make it out between the trees. Then there was the howling of wolves and you heard their footfalls running toward you, the shadows of the hulking beasts flittering between the trees. It was only seconds before you were surrounded by wolves enveloped in green mist.

You drew closer to Liu Kang and summoned a sword with your ink. Liu stood at the ready but didn’t summon his fire yet. Neither one of you liked to hurt animals, even when they were aggressive. Besides, the floaty green mist made it seem like you were out of your league with these wolves.

They didn’t attack. Instead the voice of a man broke through their howling and the dogs silenced as he walked amongst them. Tall, with messy dark hair, dark eyes and tan skin, the man’s presence was commanding. This had to be Nightwolf or at least someone in close relation to him.

“What brings you to this place?”

Liu made to speak but you grabbed his arm to silence him. He’d caused more than enough trouble with his mouth the past week and you no longer trusted him. “We’ve come to talk.” You dug in your bag and one of the wolves growled. Intimidated, you felt Liu Kang step before you defensively. You reached into the bag and dug for the wolf charm you’d been given. Then you presented it to the man and the wolves disappeared. The man turned away from you.

“Come.”

You exchanged a nervous glance with Liu who remained tense after you’d interrupted him. He nodded to let you know he was okay and you followed the man into the cabin. “You’re Nightwolf.” Liu Kang wanted to make sure.

“Yes, that is what they call me now. You must be trusted to have been given this location and that trinket.” He addressed you and you offered a polite bow.

“I’m Y/N and this is Liu Kang. We’ve come a long way to talk to you.” For a while, the conversation went smoothly. Liu Kang explained the dragon marking and its significance, showing off his own and having you express that you had one too. He explained the nature of the realms, of Lord Raiden, of the war that was likely coming and that you needed him to speak with Lord Raiden and come train in his temple. You were grateful that Liu Kang had somehow managed to have a civil conversation with someone. One point in the win column against a thousand in the lose column. That was something.

But Nightwolf didn’t seem eager to join you and instead mulled over your information. You couldn’t blame him. This was a lot and some of it was beyond belief without proof. If you hadn’t been thrown into the whole mix against your will, then you would have struggled with it too. You’d had nowhere else to run at the time and had been in over your head with unruly arcana and visions from the past.

“I have a duty here in America. I’ll have to think about it.” At least he was honest.

And reasonable. Leaving everything that he’d ever known was a huge decision. It didn’t mean that he wouldn’t return someday but there was also a chance that he would die. What you did was dangerous. Your lives tended to be short. You held your bag a little closer.

“I’m to bring you to Raiden’s Temple. I won’t leave without you.” Liu was sounding harsh again so you sighed. Maybe that was why Raiden had sent you together. Liu Kang was too grief stricken and angry to do his job on his own and you were too swept up in guilt to stay focused. You balanced each other in a horrible way.

“That decision is not yours to make, friend.” Nightwolf was incredibly respectful considering Liu Kang’s tone but the air became tense.

“I understand your hesitation, but would you give me a chance to try and convince you? You have a little time to think about it but we’re not sure how much. The longer you get to train the better off we’ll be. We have no idea how long before Outworld strikes again.” You tried to play mediator. Liu Kang’s hand grasped your arm and you nearly snarled in anger but somehow managed to get yourself together.

“We don’t have time for this, Y/N.” Liu scolded you.

“We do. You’re being impatient. Take a breath.” You narrowed your eyes at him dangerously.

“Excuse me, then.” He gritted his teeth and walked out the door, slamming it behind him. His temper was out of control. You winced at the sound of the door slamming. You missed him. You wanted him to be okay.

“I’m sorry. It’s been difficult. This war has taken a toll on us all.” You offered an excuse and a smile.

“He seems troubled.”

“He’s a good man, I promise. Just having a hard time right now.”

“You seem troubled.” Nightwolf added with a knowing glance. He was a good judge of character. He was calming and you were grateful for that because you had enough frustration from Liu’s attitude. If you snapped, it would have made Liu Kang’s poor attitude look like child’s play.

“And I’ll be okay too.”

“So, tell me, Miss Y/N. Why do you think that I should help you?”

“Well, it’s not me that you’re helping, that’s why. It’s not us. Earthrealm is our home, warts and all. If we have any strength then we have a responsibility to protect it in any way that we can, no matter what that means.”

“A wise answer.” He smiled and you were relieved. “Is that why you do this?”

“Ultimately, yes.” You had found, over the years, that honesty was the best policy. There were plenty of times where it didn’t work, but Nightwolf seemed to be looking for honesty. You had a feeling he would be able to tell if you lied. “I was sort of thrust into this at first. I had nowhere to go after my mark and so I was brought to Raiden’s Temple, which I fought, and then I was too sick to leave. I fought at first because I didn’t know what else to do. I was lost. But with time and understanding, I found that no matter what other reasons I had, I would fight to protect the place and people that I loved. This is my home, and I am willing to die to keep it safe.”

“But you weren’t at first?”

It felt like a test, and you hoped beyond hope that you were passing. You’d failed enough the last few months, you couldn’t risk another check in that column.

“I was overwhelmed with the scope of the danger and truth of all this. In the beginning, I treated it kind of like a joke because I didn’t understand. I knew, deep down, that it was the right thing to do but I had no other reason than that. That changed, of course. I think it’s normal to want to think it over. Liu Kang thinks it is too, he’s just not himself right now. I hope that you don’t judge him too harshly for his temper. It’s not like him.”

“I appreciate your honesty, Y/N.” He stood and walked to the counter, picking up a clear bottle filled with tan liquid. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“You have no idea.” You laughed and he joined you in having one. As long as you weren’t with Liu, there was no risk of you making another stupid mistake. And as long as one didn’t become ten, the risk of that was even lower.

Nightwolf turned out to be a kind and interesting man. He had struggled with his mark because the mark meant that he was special. You understood how that felt. Embracing the fate of something beyond your control had scared you too, but it had been worth it in the end. You listened to him as he shared his story and you shared a drink. You were a good listener. You always had been, and he seemed to appreciate the ear.

When your glasses were drained, he took them and set them aside which you were grateful for. “There are couches and some blankets that are open to you and your friend. I’ll make my decision as soon as I can, but I make no promises as to what that decision might be. You have been patient with me, and I appreciate that patience. I will do what I can.”

“This is a big decision but time is of the essence. Still, I want you to take that time.” You wouldn’t push him into giving up his life as he knew it to travel halfway across the world. You wouldn’t push anyone who didn’t deserve pushing. You also had the feeling that he was going to help. He seemed like a kind and powerful man whose motives were morally aligned with yours. You were grateful for that. So many with the dragon marking had wound up being scumbags.

“Thank you. Get some rest, Y/N.”

“I will. You too.” You watched him leave and then were left alone in the kitchen. You set your bag down on the smaller couch and walked outside. There was a firepit near the house and several overturned logs that served as benches. You sat on one of the logs and faced away from the firepit. The sky was overcast that night so you couldn’t see the stars but watching the clouds was soothing too.

Then Liu Kang sat next to you.

This was all too familiar now. You watched the clouds and were at peace for a short time.

“I’m apologizing again.”

“Oh. What for now?” You couldn’t help it. The sarcasm came out. He mulled it over as if to be thinking through the list of nonsense that he’d done in the last few days that he had to apologize for. Then he gestured back to the cabin.

“Being a jerk about this whole thing, for one.”

“That is just not specific enough, I’m afraid.” You turned to him.

“Being short with Nightwolf. He deserved time to mull it over.”

“I know he did. You know he did. You’ve got to figure out this temper that you’ve developed, Liu.”

“I don’t know where it came from. I always had such control.” He slumped his shoulders.

“You’re grieving.”

“Yeah, but so are you and you aren’t jumping down everyone’s throats for no reason.”

“Not when you’re looking, at least.” You were still angry with him even if he seemed willing to talk. He’d upset you. An apology wasn’t enough.

“I’ve got to get it together.” He held his head in his hands and pushed his hair back, disgusted with himself. The sound he made would have been funny if you hadn’t been a terrible mixture of mad at him and worried for him.

“Do you know what I keep thinking? What I keep wishing for?”

“Kung Lao to be back?” He said in a tired drone.

“No. I keep hoping that you find peace. I’m crushed by his death, Liu, but you’re broken.” You watched the clouds again. You wanted him to be okay, but you couldn’t be an emotional punching bag for him to figure it out with. He watched you and you could feel his eyes taking you in longer than they should have. He scooted closer. He probably didn’t believe you, and you couldn’t blame him.

“Your being here helps.”

Bullshit.

You laughed in disbelief. Liu Kang radiated with fire and you knew that feeling all too well and scooted a little away.

“Really? Because I feel like I’m actively making it worse.”

“Well, it’s complicated, isn’t it?”

“That’s a good word for it.”

“You remind me of him. You make it real. But also, you’re my friend. You were more than that.” He shrugged, clasping his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees. “We never really talked about it and it made things so hard.”

“We’re talking right now. We’ve talked and yelled a lot the last few days.” You were tired of talking about your grief in vague niceties. You were tired of being comforting. Of fighting.

“Not Kung Lao. Not grief.” He gestured between you and then returned his hands to his knees as if he had more control of them there. “About this.” You sighed heavily. Hadn’t you slapped him real hard about it the night before? “About what it was before you decided on Kung Lao.”

“I didn’t decide anything, remember? We did talk about it, Liu Kang. And you said that it wasn’t like it meant anything. That I didn’t owe you anything. A keep the change sort of comment. Remember?” You didn’t want to talk about it. You were so tired of fighting with him. It felt endless. How could Raiden do this to you? Why? Had you offended him in some way? Had your grief over Kung Lao not been loud and sad enough? “It doesn’t matter what you meant then, Liu, because that was what I was left with and so that was what I believed for years.”

“Except that I did that for Kung Lao. Do I not get to talk about it?”

“Sometimes it’s better to leave the past in the past and move on.”

“Except that it isn’t the past anymore, Y/N.” He grabbed your arm and urged you to look at him. You stiffened up. “I guess that you were hoping we’d just never talk about the other night. You keep running off. I tried to say something in the motel but you shut me down hard.”

“You can’t do this.” You struggled to speak without your voice trembling. His eyes were so dark and sad and full of fire, his lips twitching in a way where you couldn’t take your eyes off of them. “You can’t just bring it up whenever it’s convenient for you. You can’t just… wreck my emotions on repeat because you’re grieving. I’m grieving too.”

“Yeah, well you can’t just crawl into my bed and leave a bunch of scars down my back and then fuck off because it’s convenient for you.”

You were exasperated and threw your hands up in frustration. “We were drunk! Obliterated!”

“I wasn’t that drunk. I remember, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well I was. It was a mistake, Liu Kang. A grievous, drunken error that has only made things exponentially more difficult. I was sad and vulnerable and wasted. I made a mistake, okay? So maybe, just maybe, you can eat some of those lies you told me years ago. It’s not like it meant anything.” You spat with some venom and were surprised with yourself, covering your mouth after you’d said it. Oh, that hurt.

“I’m done lying, Y/N. I was never good at it. You’re not either.” He hadn’t yelled at you, which surprised you. In fact, he seemed to have a level head on more than you did. “It wasn’t a mistake for me. I knew what I was doing. I get that you’re trying to hurt me because you’re mad and grieving.” He said that in such an annoying way that you could have smacked him again. “But I’m saying now what I should have said all those years ago. It meant something. It meant something then and I knew what would happen if I went through with it the other night and I chose to anyway.” Liu was going to kill you at this rate. You were just going to drop dead. “Maybe I needed to feel something other than angry and sad. Maybe I thought I should try and undo something I regretted.”

Why was he so level-headed? Why, in this moment, had he managed to keep back his temper? If you could just yell at each other and hate each other it would be so much easier. But you didn’t hate him, you were torn between wanting to shake some sense into him and kiss him and it was so frustrating. Kissing him would only leave you more hurt but it seemed like the easier option too. You didn’t. You fought it, even if he seemed to be drawing closer. The tension of Liu Kang was so thick you could barely breathe.

“It was a mistake, Liu.” Your words were shaky but you tried to stand your ground. You’d beaten yourself up over this for too long and there he was, making it so much more complicated.

“Was it, Y/N? It didn’t feel like it was. It didn’t sound like it was.” His voice was low and serious and you felt your stomach twist into knots. “Look me in the eyes and tell me it was a mistake. That it was all a mistake. That it didn’t crush you when I said that all those years ago? That it had ever stopped being passionate between us even when we weren’t together. Tell me that. Look me in the eye and tell me that’s your truth and I will drop it.” He grasped your cheek and urged you to look him in the eyes.

You tried.

You couldn’t.

You were going to burst into tears at this rate and then he’d hold you and kiss you and you’d end up making this even more complicated and you couldn’t do that. Not right now. Not when he’d taken everything you’d known as truth and thrown it out the window. “I’m grieving Kung Lao and...” You couldn’t finish it. You couldn’t because it had never been a mistake to you back then. He was the one who had drawn the line in the sand. You’d just believed what he’d wanted you to believe for Kung Lao’s sake. And the other night was not something you remembered. There were only flashes of hot and sweaty lovemaking and all that version of you had felt was pleasure. Liu pulled his hand back and sighed.

“Figures that you would honor his memory more than think about yourself. He’d remind you that you were a terrible liar.”

You wiped your eyes as they betrayed you with tears and struggled to find words that didn’t involve crying or sobbing. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, damnit. You didn’t want to cry because of him. “This isn’t fair. It isn’t fair, Liu Kang. You can’t just… I can’t take much more.”

“I’m not trying to mess with your head, Y/N. I’m not trying to hurt you. You feel guilty but you don’t have any reason to. You think I don’t feel guilty? It’s eating me up. But we owe it to ourselves, don’t we? To figure it out?”

“Why are you being like this? Why now? Why?” You wiped furiously at your eyes. Stupid tears. You were so tired of your eyes being puffy and painful all the time. Stupid Liu Kang and his stupid emotions and his stupid whirlwind of honesty and misplaced anger. Stupid Kung Lao, dying and leaving you to deal with this. Stupid Raiden not sending you alone.

“I think that you turned down Kung Lao’s proposal because you were worried that maybe you still had feelings for me and had to figure that out first.”

That was the last straw. You broke.

You hated that it was partially true. You’d never stopped being attracted to him and that had become painfully obvious. What a selfish reason it had been to turn down the love of a man who had been dedicated to you and you alone. You swore that your heart was shutting down, it was beating so hard. He had you confused. Was that part of the reason? You didn’t know because you hadn’t been given the chance to figure it out. The truth was that you probably would have married Kung Lao. You would have talked about your plans for the future, what he saw of it, what you saw of it, and then accepted his proposal. You hadn’t turned it down because you didn’t love him. You had turned it down because you’d needed to talk. You were less spontaneous than Kung Lao had been. The only reason he’d needed was love and you’d needed to know more details. That was it. Liu Kang was making you overthink in ways you hadn’t in years.

“I can’t do this.” You stood and Liu grabbed your arm before you could leave. His fingers brushed down your wrist and to your hand and he gave you a look as if begging you to stay. It was killing you.

“We can’t avoid this forever.”

“I let you have your time to process this bullshit, Liu Kang and you are going to let me have mine.” He didn’t let you go. His grip tightened on your hand as if afraid to let you walk away, as if you would never come back. “Liu Kang?”

“Don’t go, Y/N.”

“You will let go of me right this instant.” You avoided his eyes. “You have ignored my feelings in favor of yours for long enough tonight. Let me go.”

Liu’s grip tightened but then he very suddenly let go and turned away with a bow of his head. “Of course, Y/N.”

The panic as you marched back inside the cabin and sat down on the couch was killing you. You held your head in your hands. What were you supposed to do with this? You had to calm down, first and foremost. Thankfully, Liu didn’t follow you inside and you had some peace and quiet but your thoughts weren’t much better than his argument had been.

You’d fucked up.

It would have been so much easier if neither one of you felt anything. It would have been easier if he had been as drunk as you had been. It would have been easier if you could continue believing that it really had meant nothing. It had never meant nothing to you. It had crushed you and taken you months to recover from that sadness with no one to talk to about it. You may not have remembered the other night but you remembered him from all those years ago.

The hot nights, the times you’d spent devoted to each other’s bodies, tangled up in his sheets or in yours. He’d made you feel sexy and forbidden, something beyond desire that no one else had ever made you feel. You hated those memories for so long that it was hard to feel any way other than that.

You loved Kung Lao.

But would you have even gotten the chance to if Liu Kang hadn’t said what he’d said? You had this connection, this fire that you couldn’t put out even after years of letting it simmer down. Even now when you’d fought, you had known that if you didn’t get out of there then you would have given into that passion, that instinct. What a mess of a human being you were. You curled up on the couch and this time you didn’t pull your bag close to you. You couldn’t think about Kung Lao when you were like this.

Next Chapter >>

[thrillridesz]

all i want for christmas | eric

in part of the deobi secret santa project and dedicated as a gift to @channiewoo​ ✨ ( i hope you like it >< i tried my best! )

➳ pairing: college student!eric x reader ( ft juyeon, kevin, chanhee and sangyeon with jacob mentions! )

➳ genre: fluff, fantasy, time travel!au, time loop!au, christmas!au, university!au, love triangle!au ( ish? )

➳ warnings: n/a (PG13)

➳ word count: 4.6k

➳ inspo: lotus inn by why don’t we

➳ fic playlist: all i want for christmas - big time rush ft miranda cosgrove | lotus inn - why don’t we | christmassy! - the boyz | you belong with me - taylor swift | crush - david archuleta

a/n : this is my christmas secret santa gift to eri @channiewoo​  ^^ also hi, i’m your theb secret santa! thank you for being such a sweet person to talk to throughout this month and honestly you really made my first secret santa here on tumblr pretty memorable! i know we’ve just exchanged a few asks here and there but i genuinely did like talking to you though im not the most frequent secret santa anon out there >< i sincerely hope you can forgive me for that. but anyways, i hope you like your gift!!

+ also unedited for now because i really wanted to post this on christmas day... and tags are still not working but i don’t want to delay this any longer

The Christmas spirit could be felt in all corners of the house that night as the sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies and crackling log fire from the fireplace wafted in the air while party guests swayed to the upbeat  Christmas music playing on the stereo and chatted merrily amongst themselves. Outside, fine white snow was falling and against the black canvas of the night sky, it made the streets seem almost serene and even beautiful. Looking out, one could easily feel the Christmas mood as neighbours held their own christmas parties and family gatherings. Everywhere they looked, they would see beautifully decorated houses adorned with Christmas wreaths and intricate fairy lights. Sometimes, one would even see the occasional snowmans displayed out in the neighbours’ yards, covered in scarves and hats with the ever familiar carrot nose. From a distance a few doors down, one could also hear singing - a telltale sign of the local group of Christmas carolers making their rounds in the neighbourhood like they did every year.

This was what Christmas is all about - enjoying good food with loved ones, receiving amazing gifts, going door to door caroling and feeling at home with the people you appreciate and cherish while the winter snow falls outside. Yet, Eric felt anything but. In fact, his heart was pounding against his chest as he sipped nervously at his mug of hot apple cider. Around him, the party guests were mingling and laughing at the college Christmas party as they shared funny stories from the year they had, feeling particularly merry. Normally, it would have been easy for him to get in the mood but not this time.

“I don’t get what you’re so nervous about.” Kevin said, shaking his head. “Why can’t you just talk to her?”

“I don’t want to make a fool out of myself. What if I mess up?” He replied despondently, his eyes softening as he glanced at you from across the room.

There you were - decked out in a cute Christmas outfit just standing by the fireplace, your hair falling around your face and framing it, looking more beautiful than he had remembered. The smile on your face made his heart flutter ever so slightly and he could feel his face grow warmer despite having a huge mug of apple cider just in front of him. The santa hat you wore added just that little touch of sweetness and adorableness to you and Eric couldn’t help but feel his heart start to pound in his chest. If you weren’t already stunning to him, you were breathtakingly beautiful to him now. Every little smile or shy glance made his heart beat just a little faster and he reached up to clutch softly as his chest.

“It’s better than not trying at all, Eric.” Kevin pointed out, taking a bite out of his gingerbread cookie. “You ought to have a little bit more faith in yourself.”

Eric sighed in resignation. “It’s so much easier talking about it than actually doing it. Everytime I think about doing it, I chicken out. I just can’t seem to stop fearing about possibly screwing it up, Kev.”

Kevin regarded him with a sympathetic look before patting him reassuringly on the shoulder. “I understand. Look man, if you don’t feel ready then you don’t have to force yourself to talk to her.”

“I promised myself that today would be the day.”

“Yeah, I know you did but still, you don’t have to force yourself. Your face is turning pale from the anxiety.” The latter said, concerned.

“It is?” Eric asked, alarmed as he quickly turned to the window beside him, checking out his reflection. He narrowed his eyes as he reached up to ruffle his hair in an attempt to make it look somewhat better though all it did was make it seem more tousled.

Kevin watched him, chuckling softly. Men in love are truly a different breed.

“Hey, Kev! I nearly forgot, do you want to listen to my newly curated Christmas playlist? I’ve been meaning to ask but I couldn’t find you.” Sangyeon suddenly appeared from behind the duo, with a joyous grin on his face. Kevin gave Eric a questioning look which he waved away.

“I’ll be fine.” He smiled.

“Alright… If you need anything, just call me!” Kevin said, casting him a last fleeting glance as he walked away with Sangyeon.

Holding the mug of hot apple cider close to his chest, Eric leaned against the cold glass panel of the window, staring out listlessly despite the steady pounding of his heart. He shot a furtive glance in your direction and quickly looked away, his cheeks reddening. At this rate, it would not be long before he turned as red as Rudolph’s nose.

“Get a grip, Eric. Why are you being such a wimp?” He chided himself. Looking around, Eric couldn’t help but observe his surroundings wistfully.

Everyone was seemingly in their element - snacking on Christmas snacks, dancing and just having fun. By the boombox, he watched as Hyunjae engaged in conversation with a girl who he did not recognise. The way they were laughing and the way she so flirtatiously slapped him on the shoulder, giggling at something Hyunjae said made Eric feel so deeply envious. Even from where he was, the smitten look on her face was undeniable and he wondered why he couldn’t have been more of a ladies’ man like Hyunjae was. Things would have been so much easier for him. Why is it that whenever it came to you he was suddenly the most awkward person to grace the face of this earth? It just didn’t make sense to him.

Sighing, he took another sip of his hot apple cider, feeling the liquid burn at the back of his throat. Suddenly, he frowned, his eyes narrowing. Who was that?

He had one of the most attractive faces Eric had ever seen - with soft, fine dark hair, a strong build and a warm smile that simply lit up the room. There he was, talking to you and you sliding your hand over his shoulder, not in a seductive or flirtatious way but in a friendly way though it was still enough to spark jealousy in Eric’s heart. He watched intently as you leaned in to whisper something in his year, his smile growing wider at your words.

Eric longed to know what the two of you were talking about, his grip on his mug growing tighter and firmer.

“Lost your chance, buddy.”

Swivelling around, Eric nearly spilled his apple cider as he turned to face a pink haired boy with an upturned nose. He didn’t remember seeing him around but there was something odd about him that Eric couldn’t quite put his finger on. Not to mention, that statement really did rub him off the wrong way.

“Excuse me?” His tone was slightly icy as he furrowed his brows together, frowning at the stranger in front of him.

“Didn’t you want to talk to her?” The boy asked, taking a swig of his hot chocolate, seemingly not noticing the confused look Eric was shooting him.

“Do I know you?”

“Oh right! I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself. How rude of me… I’m Chanhee but you can call me New. Everyone does,” he smiled warmly, “you’re Eric?”

Eric narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Yes? How do you know my name?”

“I just do. I know everyone,” He waved away his question nonchalantly, “I see you have a Christmas sweetheart.”

He tipped his mug in your direction and Eric felt his face grow hotter, annoyance setting in at the same time.

“How is that any of your business?” He snapped, his tone indignant and confrontational.

“I am here to help so watch your tone around me.” New rolled his eyes, looking at him in disdain though there was a twinkle in his eyes as he continued, “I can help you get the girl.”

Eric cast you a sideway glance before turning back to New with a skeptical expression. Whoever this guy was, he was weird, odd. Yet, the proposal he had proposed was a tempting one and despite himself, he felt inclined to listen. Watching you from afar, Eric’s heart sank just a little deeper as the guy you were talking to suddenly reached up to brush your hair away from your face, the both of you looking into each other’s eyes as he did. The irritation and jealousy he felt came back stronger than ever and before he knew it, the words were out of his mouth before he even knew it.

“How can you help?”

At his words, New grinned, drawing a small crystal vial from his pocket. The vial was filled with a mysterious sparkly, glowy pink liquid and smelled distinctively of roasted chestnuts though Eric was almost a thousand percent sure the liquid was not made of any kind of roasted chestnuts in any shape or form. As New popped open the cap, the scent grew even stronger and Eric shot him an alarmed look.

“What is that? A drug?!” Looking around frantically, it felt like nobody was paying the two of them any attention, being too preoccupied with their own conversations. How is nobody noticing this?

“Calm down and don’t get your panties in a twist.” New scoffed, “It’s a time travel potion. Or a time loop potion if you will.”

This guy is actually crazy. Eric almost wanted to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of it all but barely managed to suppress it.

“Okay…?”

“Yup, I made it myself. Took me like half a year to brew it to perfection but it should work now. I followed each step really closely so there should be no problems.”

“Yeah, sure man. Thanks for wasting my time. If you don’t mind, I’ll be leaving. Thanks for the false hope.” Eric grumbled, taking his leave and not even bothering to consider the chagrined look on New’s face. Mayhaps Christmas is not his time either. He wondered how long this would drag on. When Valentine’s Day rolled around, he chickened out and said ‘next time’. When Halloween rolled around, he chickened out yet again and promised to make a move by Thanksgiving yet when Thanksgiving rolled around, he settled for Christmas. Now…

“Maybe it’s just not meant to be. Maybe I’m just too much of a coward.” He whispered to himself, pushing his way through the crowd of people. As he took yet another sip of his hot apple cider, he couldn’t help but keep his eye on you. The way you were now looping your arms over the guy’s neck and the way he had his large hands on your waist made Eric want to leave the party. If only he had a little bit more faith…

“What time is it anyways?” He murmured to himself, wanting more than anything to leave.

9:04pm. Damn. It wouldn’t be until two hours later for the party to end. Sure, he could always leave early but he would hate to be seen as disrespectful to everyone else especially Jacob, the host of this lovely party.

He stared at the mug of hot apple cider he had in his hand, scrunching up his nose at the taste of it.

Was it just him or did it taste slightly… Off?

Eric gazed at it for a moment before he shook his head. I’m overthinking everything, he thought. However as he stood over the snack table, he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head. It was like having someone slap him at his head before his vision turned blurry. His limbs were beginning to go soft and his mouth dry. What was happening? He blinked rapidly but to no avail. It felt like he was falling in a deep pit…

When he opened his eyes again, everything felt fine. Patting himself lightly on the face, he looked around his surroundings in confusion. Just what was that? Did he imagine all of that? The mug of hot apple cider was still in his hands and the reindeer horns band was still on his head. He was wearing the same clothes and everything had become clear, there were no more blurry visions. The pounding in his head had stopped and it felt like whatever happened earlier was merely a figment of his own imagination.

“Eric…? Eric!”

The voice shook him from his stupor and with a start, he lifted his head to see Kevin regarding him with a questioning look on his face.

“You okay? You zoned out for a minute and I mean, really zoned out.”

“Y-Yeah… Aren’t you supposed to go listen to Sangyeon’s playlist or something?”

Kevin raised an eyebrow.

“What playlist?”

Eric frowned. “Didn’t Sangyeon ask you to listen to his Christmas playlist?”

“Um… No? Even if he has one, he hasn’t asked me yet.”

Eric looked at Kevin with confusion in his eyes. What was going on? Last he remembered, that was exactly what happened. Swivelling around, the confusion got even stronger when he saw you standing all alone at the other corner of the house. Were you not with that guy?

Instantly, he remembered what New had said. “Time travel potion…” He mumbled under his breath, his eyes widening when the realisation dawned upon. No way…

Whipping out his phone, it felt like his heart was about to pound right out of his chest when he saw the time. His throat felt dry and tight as he stared, unable to believe his eyes.

8:46pm.

Eric suddenly recalled the weird taste he had gotten in his cider and instinctively, his hand reached up to cover his mouth. There was no other explanation for this other than the fact that one, that New or was it Kyu guy had not been lying when he spoke of a time travel potion and two, he had slipped him the potion on purpose when he wasn’t looking. He could feel the anger bubble up within him - the nerve of that guy! With pure, unadulterated fury in his eyes, his gaze swept across the room, looking for him. Kevin looked on, thoroughly puzzled.

“...Eric? Are you okay? You’ve got a weird look on your face.” He asked, concerned. “Eric?”

All anger had just dissipated from his being as his sights finally landed on you. There you were, standing all alone at the fireplace with a drink in your hand while your friend danced. The look on your face was one of loneliness and even from a mile away, anyone could tell you looked extremely awkward at having been left alone while she swayed up against Haknyeon, a guy he recognised from his Medieval History module.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the same dark haired guy he had seen approach you ‘earlier’. Following his gaze, Eric could feel his stomach drop as he realised that they were on you. From his body language, it was clear that he was about to make his way over and take his chances with you.

Just then, a voice at the back of his mind whispered softly.

“What are you waiting for?”

Taking a deep breath, Eric squared his shoulders and hurriedly straightened the jacket he was wearing. This is it. This is actually it. He was going to do it. His legs were moving now, one step after another in large strides towards you. The sound of his heart pounding was practically deafening to his ears and he could feel his legs turning into lead, each footstep heavier than the next. Squeezing past the crowd, another voice - this time insistent and panicky - suddenly cried out.

“No, don’t do this! What if you embarrass yourself and make yourself out to be a fool?”

Eric’s face paled. No, this is a mistake. What was he doing?

“Hello?”

Shaking out of his thoughts, Eric almost jumped back in shock at the sight of you just right in front of him. Before he even realised it, he had made his way over. It is now too late to back out. Had he been standing there like an idiot this whole time?

“I-I… Hey!” He squeaked out, his heart almost leaping out of his chest.

“You’re Eric right? Eric Sohn from Professor Kim’s introduction to accounting class?” You asked kindly.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the guy from ‘earlier’ approaching, pushing past the crowd and judging from his demeanour… It seemed like the competition was still in the game.

He needed to pull this off.

“Yeah, I am. Y/n right? It’s a pretty cool party, isn’t it?”

“Mhm! Pretty great so far! My friend is over there dancing but I’m not much of a party dancer so here I am,” you smiled and Eric almost forgot what he was about to say.

“I-”

“Hey, how are you guys enjoying the party?”

Eric looked up and his brows furrowed into an annoyed and anxious ‘v’. The dark haired competition merely grinned back at him though there was a certain glint in his eyes which made Eric clench his jaw tightly. It was the sort of gaze that was long enough to send a goading message - game on.

He smiled and extended a hand towards you, completely ignoring Eric. “I’m Juyeon, roommate of Jacob’s. I saw you from afar and thought I’d come say hi.”

You shook his hand, oblivious to the tension between the two guys. “I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

Juyeon briefly lifted his gaze to Eric and without anyone’s notice but his, he winked slyly.

“Revolting.” Eric thought angrily.

“I heard they have some really cool peppermint treats at the candy table, wanna come?” Juyeon asked and quickly Eric said, “I heard they have a great log cake at the snack bar though. I’ve heard people raving about it!”

You looked at the both of them, seemingly a little disconcerted. “Uh… I…” Juyeon shot Eric a scathing look which he returned with a smug smile.

“Who doesn’t love a good old log cake?” He asked, to which Juyeon rolled his eyes at.

“I mean… I do love peppermint…” You trailed off and Eric turned to you with wide eyes as big as saucers and Juyeon’s lips lifted into a smug smile.

“Excellent choice! I hear they have so many varieties…” Juyeon chattered on, placing his arm over your shoulder, leaving poor Eric speechless and red faced, watching helplessly as the two of you walked away from him. Turning behind you, you had an apologetic look on your face but said nothing.

“That’s too bad. I was rooting for you, you know?”

Eric swivelled around to find New standing behind him yet again, this time chewing on a piece of toffee. The time on his watch was clear as day as the red, glowing digits stared right back at him - 9:04pm. It had come full circle. He had the chance to turn things around but he had failed. Somehow, the nonchalant look in New’s face irritated him but he tried to remain calm. His gaze drifted down to the bulge in the man’s jacket pocket, tracing the faint outline of the tiny vial that contained the potion from earlier.

“At least we know now that I’m legit, right?” He winked at Eric, smirking as he did though it dropped when he saw the look on the latter’s face.

“Why are you-”

“Please, give me one more chance. Please just let me turn back time this one more time.” He pleaded. Eric was not one to plead but this time, he was feeling particularly desperate.

New looked at him like he had just sprouted an extra head before he burst out laughing.

“How’s that for a turn of the tables, Mr ‘thank you for wasting my time’?” He asked, still giggling. Clearly, he was taking much joy in this new dynamic - something Eric didn’t look too pleased about though he was not about to act on it. After all, it was New’s potion that allowed him this one more chance which he had quite unspectacularly let slip from his grasp.

“Alright, I suppose I could let you try this one more time though I’ll definitely be charging for your next usage.” New sighed, whipping out the vial. “I did want you to succeed after all.”

As Eric gulped down his drink, the familiar feeling of dizziness washed over him yet again, along with the looseness in his limbs and before he knew it, he found himself standing right where he was with you standing where you were previously.

This time, Eric squared his shoulders and ran a hand nervously through his hair. There you were yet again, standing by the fireplace with that drink in your hand.

“No hesitation this time,” he whispered to himself before he made his way over. He barely even paid attention to Juyeon coming in from the side as he struck up a conversation.

“Hey, y/n from professor Kim’s introduction to accounting right?”

You turned to him, looking a little surprised before you smiled warmly at him.

“Yeah! Eric, is it? It’s nice to see you here.”

“How’s things going so far at the party?” He asked, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. His nervousness was getting to him quickly but the thought of messing up yet again reined him back in and his smile stayed on.

You wrinkled your nose as if considering his question before you replied, “Well, it’s going alright so far. I’m not really a party sort of person but I thought I’d make an exception since you know, Jacob’s my friend.”

“I see! I don’t usually mind parties but I do like…” He paused as he saw Juyeon approaching, the gears in his head whirring away and you looked at him curiously.

“Eric…?”

“How about we go get some peppermint? I hear they have a variety here.” He suggested quickly, his eyes darting towards Juyeon’s direction.

You stared at him, looking a little perturbed but then grinned and nodded. “Sure, I love peppermints.”

Before Juyeon could even make his way over, the two of you had walked away, squeezing past the dancing crowd. The bass beat of the music was so resounding throughout the house that it almost seemed as if the walls were vibrating as well. The glitter and lights all around all looked stunning but perhaps a little too stunning as Eric made his way through the crowd with you just right by him. From all sides, people were accidentally bumping into each other and more than once, he almost lost his balance.

As the two of you neared the candy table, Eric realised too late that perhaps pushing past the crowd had been a bad idea and that a smarter way would be to stay out of the dance floor when he felt himself fall forward. Someone’s foot had been there and without looking, he had tripped over and landed with a huge thud on the floor, flat on his belly. His chin collided with the ground and if he had hit it just a little harder, had the impact been just a tad stronger, he might have suffered a serious injury.

Since you were just trailing behind him, his unexpected fall had sent you falling as well. As the both of you crashed against the ground, some members of the crowd audibly gasped as people shuffled out of the way. Though it may have hurt when he fell, Eric’s heart ached much more than the bruise he would no doubt sport on his knees tomorrow. Seeing you sprawled next to him and knowing all of this happened only because of him, he wanted nothing more than to dig a hole right there and then and leap right in.

A few partygoers reached out to help him up and right next to him, Juyeon appeared in front of you, extending a hand with a look of concern. Eric watched as the two of you looked into each other’s eyes and like in a fairytale princess bedtime story, you reached out tentatively to hold onto Juyeon’s hand as his heart fell to the ground with a messy splat.

“Y/n-”

“Are you guys okay?” Juyeon asked though it seemed as if he was only asking you in general.

“Yeah, we’re alright. Thank you.” You said softly, still seemingly a little frazzled.

“Come, let us go get you seated somewhere.”

Eric couldn’t help but simply stand there and look helplessly as the both of you wandered away, his heart feeling like it was about to shatter into pieces. A second chance he was given and he screwed it up and if that wasn’t enough, he was offered yet another shot which went worse than his first. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. Maybe no matter how many times he tried, tonight was just not the night. Or perhaps nothing was ever destined to happen between you two. The jolly christmas music was still playing but he no longer was in the Christmassy spirit anymore.

All he wanted for Christmas was you but it seemed that that didn’t seem so possible anymore, if not impossible.

As the partygoers resumed their dancing, all he could do was plop himself down on the nearby couch and do nothing except nurse not just his fallen pride but also his feelings which never had the chance to express themselves before it got completely shut down.

Grabbing a bottle of ginger ale from a nearby pack, he took a swig and felt the ale burn as it ran down his throat. Usually, he would have loved it but tonight, it just left a bitter taste in his mouth. Keeping his head down, Eric exhaled deeply. He ought to just give up completely.

“Hey, Eric.”

At the sound of your voice, his head snapped up and he gazed up at you with wide eyes. There you were, standing before him and looking down at him as he wallowed in his own feelings. How long have you been standing there? Why were you here?

“Y-y/n?”

You gave him a bashful glance as you sat yourself next to him. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

“I… I… “ He simply stared at you, his mouth gaping like a fish and looking absolutely flummoxed. “Didn’t Juyeon-”

“I couldn’t possibly leave you alone.” You hurried to say and when he didn’t reply, you continued. “Do you… Do you mind if I sit here with you?”

It took Eric a second for it to register in his mind what you had just asked of him before he grew flustered just as the joy in him began to spark.

“Do I mind? No! Of course not! You’re welcomed here! Please, sit with me!”

As he chattered on nervously, you couldn’t help but admire the way his eyes would light up whenever he talked and how charming his smile was. He was in the habit of moving his hands around a lot which though some might find annoying, you only found to be endearing. You could feel your heart beating quickly which always happened whenever you were near him, saw him around class or even just at the mere mention of his name.

As you looked into his eyes, you felt yourself clench on tightly to the couch, the excitement in you simply immeasurable. You couldn’t help but smile as you felt the weight of the vial in your pocket. A worthy bargain indeed from the mysterious pink haired boy.

This was all you wanted for Christmas.

[mrsmalfoymagic]

Card Five

I didn’t take long to find its owner. There seemed to be a force between the two of us to always find each other in a crowd. Like gravity pulling me to him.

And as my eyes made their way towards the fireplace, finally catching glimpse of Remus Lupin hunched into the heat, lost in a book as he always was, I began to blush. 

I put down my own and tried to delicately approach as to not startle him. He had a reputation for being clumsy, and - whilst holding a novel beside an open fire, I didn’t like his chances.

“Uh, Remus.” I announced quietly. He jerked his head up, face filling with crimson as he acknowledged me.

“Y/n. Hi.”

We’d only ever spent any length of time around each other at the library where we’d reside solitarily during our free periods or stupidly late hours. We were never ones for small talk, so outside of class I don’t believe we’d had a single conversation. In fact, I don’t believe I’d ever even heard him speak.

My face replicated the same blood red as his and I squinted awkwardly, holding up his card to inform him of our fates.

“I picked you.”

“Oh. Alright. I suppose we should go.” His accent was strong and educated, but anxious and timid. He stood, brushing down his robes and poising himself straight, shadowing over me and blocking the cloud of warmth crackling behind him.

His manner was polite as he assisted me through our classmates towards the cupboard. I had expected nothing less than chivalry of him. We were library partners, but never confirmed it through spoken – or even written word. The only exchanges placed were little smiles from above our pages, stealing glances between our world-escaping plights. Like perfectly placed bindings in time. Baring ourselves at our peak vulnerabilities to share in each other’s entertainment.

Despite the immensity of its size, we’d somehow know to not stray too far apart in the library; subconsciously finding our settlements a few tables apart, but always managing to achieve a perfect opposing line of vision; allowing the ability to master responses to new books or topics by the speed in which we completed them, the oftenest of locking eyes, or - in Remus’ case - if he’d fall asleep against the spreadeagle spine; something he seemed to do a lot.  

No, I didn’t know him, admittedly, but from these - our shared moments, I had come to recognise enough of his behaviours to learn he was wise above his age, caring and loyal beyond measure.

Yet somewhere, I sensed a fragility. Like a goose-feathered pillow hiding deeply an explosion that didn’t have a specific means of detonation.  

 He lit up the room as we entered. The door which Sirius and James were ardently protecting locked behind us and my cheeks burnt with nervousness. This wasn’t my usual idea of fun, but keeping myself under the radar with my classmates, I consenting to participating. And who better to face the music with than Remus Lupin. Without even knowing the remainder of cards still yet to be drawn, he was the best of all outcomes. I’d already made my silent connections with him. He’d become a peaceful existence in my life. But I wasn’t used to these interactions and felt lost in the realisation of this game’s objectives.

So as much as my inexperienced-self wished, there was no cowering behind books in here.

“Hello.” He grinned, again barely uttering. His cheeks expanded broadly through his expression and I couldn’t help but giggle. He was a charming discovery, to say the least. And despite my trembling fingers clasping behind my back, I felt safe.

“Any closer to finishing that book?” He took a step towards me, “I couldn’t help but notice it was a hardship.”

“Not at all. It’s my Astronomy class. Ironically, I feel I’m learning less the more I read about it.”

Another step closer.

“Perhaps I could help. What part are you studying?”

“Selenography. The moon.”

His smile widened and he was now upon me; directly in my space; his brogues hitting the tips of my own. There was a new glint in his heavy, restful eyes. No doubt his lack of sleep was from staying up all night reading new books.

“I know a thing or two.” His voice was gentle, almost seductive.

What I couldn’t help but note was his odour – crisp pages and the incense of ink. He had ash residue on his robes from the spitting logs, and I could still smell the fire against him. It was addictive and was guaranteed the blame to my momentary out of character response.

“You’re still talking about my class, right?”

I couldn’t believe it - it just came out. I shocked myself realising I was flirting.

He reacted coolly but tilted his head with a squint of curiosity.

“No, I don’t believe I am.” His expression suddenly shared the same self-intrigue as mine. We were both flirting.

Taken aback by his own response, he tried a subtle retreat, but began to stumble over his robes; hobbling backwards to catch himself until eventually, with a small grunt, landed harshly against the door with a shocking bang.

He was intelligent and adorable beyond compare, but heavens, was he uncoordinated.

“Damn it.” He cursed, gripping on the doorframe to support himself upright.

“You two alright in there?” Sirius yelled out on the adjacent side of the door with a few determined knocks.

“Yes.” Remus replied loudly in an irritated mortification and lowered his face into his palms. 

I watched him for a moment, a glint of pity against the reassuring smile I had pinned to my lips in case he looked up. Until suddenly, and unexpectedly, I started to laugh.

It was provoked by shyness and pure embarrassment, I was sure - feeling the knot cripple me into submission and before I knew it, I was wiping the tears out of my eyes and steadying myself against the stone wall.

“Sorry.” I breathed, believing my response was humiliating him further. But, as my hands fell back to my sides, they grazed at the form of Remus, who had now approached me again.

I looked up to find his manner bothered. His eyes blinked harshly as he considered himself.

“May I?” he asked, lifting his hand, and holding it upright towards my cheek. I nodded, keeping my eyes firmly on his fluttering ones.

Using the stub of his index finger, he carefully tucked the falling wave of hair behind my ear. Exhaling in relief, a new smile formed upon his full lips, like he had just performed a task of great difficulty.

“I can’t do justice to the full expression,” He muttered kindly whilst still admiring the tiny details of my facial outline, “But you have an entrancing effect on me.”

His fingers were now lacing around the curls against my shoulder, inspecting the silky texture.

“You aren’t to understand. I would never expect you to.”

After half a minute of combing at my hair and being lost in reverie, he gulped away a forming sorrow before lowering his head on his shoulders.

”I wish it were as simple as telling you.”

I pinched at his chin and lifted his face to find mine once again, showcasing the similar smile I had previously.

“Then show me.” I said softly.

In any other setting I would be out of place with these interactions, but with Remus, it all felt natural.

He considered my words for a moment and the seriousness of my focus against his almond eyes, before finding my hand.

“Are you ready for your first Astronomy lesson?” his lip ticked to a short smile.

I nodded innocently and allowed Remus to direct me out of the closet and begin heading towards the Astronomy tower.

 We walked in silence, making sure to hide in the shadows of the halls and columns whenever we suspected a prefect or professor was heading our way, before at long last we made it to the highest point of the castle. The Astronomy tower was webbed with rails and structures, architectural beams lined the extent of the room. A brass sundial pointed outwards towards the cloudless evening. Golden and intricately detailed telescopes were poised at all four corners of the open bays.

Other than the basic tools to marvel at the heavens, there was little as far as interior to the tower – its masterpiece of course being the view it held - displaying full range of vision to every area of Hogwarts including as distant as elements of the Forbidden Forest.

 Staying adamantly in the darkness of the room, Remus issued me towards the centre directly in front of the magnificent global display, illuminated by the full moon now baring down from the midnight hour and in through the widest, banistered opening which welcomed a deadly, multi-story drop.

“Lesson one.” He started, wandering in the pitch blackness. His voice rippled through the tower, “The moon is separated into three parts. The light, dark… and grey.” He hesitated.

“I’ve been studying the light side. You know, the part we can see through a telescope.” I informed naively.

“Right. And the dark is not all that important. The grey area, however, is what I want to talk about.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“For good reason.” I lost him in the night, but could sense the trouble in his tone, “So before I tell you, are you absolutely sure you want to know?”

I shuffled in my spot, a sense of discomfort overcoming me but nodded; knowing that – despite not seeing him – he had firm eyes on me.

“Then rest assured, whatever the outcome, I won’t hurt you.”

The suddenness of the claim trickled unease against my spine. What was I doing here? What was Remus going to do?

That feeling of safety never seemed to slip away but I knew with any ounce of logic, I should never have followed him here. And, as a group of footsteps and voice came from the entrance, these newcomers felt the same too.

“What are you doing? Have you gone barmy?” Sirius Black yelled out as he fully emerged into the room, tailed closely by the two final Marauders, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. They’d clearly chased us here from the party, knowing the suspicious activities Remus was due to perform.

“Moony, don’t be stupid.” James insulted with a knowing attitude. It was as if they all had a sense of understanding of the situation. All except me.

I could hear the shuffle of feet ahead of me in the closest area of shade and knew Remus was before me.  

“Wait. I just want to try. Trust me.” His arms appeared from the distance and held out in a terrible attempt of reassurance, but he was unconvinced himself.

“In the castle? In front of her?” Sirius directed his attention to where I was stood, a wave of worry across his brow.

“You know what will happen if you take that step.” Peter reminded - his eyes focused on the blinding of the full moon upon the rest of us. I followed his sights, still trying to piece together this encounter.

“I’ll handle it. I’m ready.”

Remus took a single step closer making way towards the lit-up ground. James, unannounced, lifted his wand and licked his top lip anxiously.

“You know I don’t want to hurt you.” He recoiled, his wand ready and pointed, and face contorted in anguish.

“You won’t have to. I promise. Y/n…” he found my hard and intense eyes. I could feel it.

“Remus, what’s going on?” I pleaded; my tremoring hands now unable to settle.

“Y/n, get behind me.” Sirius stood forward, reaching over for my hand, “Now.”

I didn’t take it.

“Let’s all just calm down, alright.” Remus was more impatient, “I think I know what prevents it. I can stop this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Please, y/n.” James warned, his hand tightened on the wand still firmly fixed on his friend.

“Before you.” Remus resumed, “Before I ever met you, I was dangerous.”

The sound of another shuffle.

“Lupin – “ Sirius cautioned lowly, now standing in front of me to shield me.

“- Let me finish.” His voice was irritable now, feeling the hostility of the room become dense in his breath, “I was terrified of myself. The darkness inside was overwhelming. I began to go the library to distract myself. I thought it a good place to escape. It was safe, away from prying eyes. Away from who I really am; a monster.“

“- Are you sure you want her to know?” Peter questioned. Remus ignored him. And so did I.

“You’re not a monster, Remus. I at least know that about you.”

My voice was begging, filled with panic and honesty. I heard a half-hearted sigh.

“When I saw you, everything changed. I finally felt at ease.”

He took a slow step towards the light and we could at last see him. His eyes were low and his expression solemn. The boys stirred.

“And over time I slowly realised it had nothing to do with where I was at all. I’d found comfort in where you were. So -”

As he was about to take the last move into the direct beam of the moon, Sirius jerked forward.

“Really think about this, Remus. What this will do.”

Remus pursed his lips together defiantly and took a brave inhale through his nostrils, before moving aside, burning himself in the glow.

The boys all flinched and reacted in alarm. For a moment they seemed reassured as nothing happened. Remus’ eyes remained closed and face deep in concentration.

We all stared onwards, my breath heavy and out of sync.

Then out of nowhere, Remus’ body began to seize, an agony crippling him in half. He began to cry out in pain, his voice becoming hoarse from the scream.

Sirius’ stance against me widened as he paced forward, and with a confirming nod to James, began to hunch himself over. I was frozen in disorientation; completely useless to help him because I had no clue what was causing any of this. James had not fired any spells; Sirius had not flung himself at him yet. There was no logical explanation for his reaction - his turmoil. Or even theirs.

“Remus, I’ll have to change.” Sirius looked over his brow at him, bracing himself.

“No!” Remus desperately reached his arm out, preventing him. He fell to his knees, soaring in twitching intensity.

“Y/n, you really ought to go.” Peter said with a quiver in his voice as he approached me.

“She stays.” Remus wheezed, “She needs to know.”

And suddenly I did. Like a jolt of lightening to my system. Him saying that - I knew. I finally knew.

The library. The restless sleep. The grey part of the moon. Somewhere in my subconscious I had read it during my studies. This was it - his detonation.

Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

“Remus, this is ridiculous. James!” Sirius looked to the wand, but before James could do anything, I had bypassed the chaos and, fuelled by unprecedented compassion, made way towards Remus.

Kneeling before him, I rested my hand against the trembling, vein-popping one gripping at the cold floor. Sirius aimed for us, but Peter held his robe and pulled him back, suspecting my intentions.

“Remus, you don’t have to prove this to me. This isn’t who you are.”

He was looking down, begging for release from the boiling against his skin.

“I can control it, I swear. I just –“

He was letting go, being defeated by the pain of his harsh reality - his disbelief that he was anything other than a violent beast. He thought bringing me would make him see that it wasn’t true - that he could command it. But now, with the magnitude of celestial torment against his back, the strength of his curse running through him as thick as his poisoned blood, he couldn’t stop it. It was overbearing the test he so desperately wished to pass. He wanted to stand in front of the moon, and for once, be human.

And I understood it now. It all made sense, it always had – our ties together, our purposes for being so close without uttering a single word, being calming presences for each other. Why we were so drawn to one another. The control, the distraction. He couldn’t master it himself.

 Maybe all of this was never his choice to make.

 Maybe it was mine.

 Under my palm, I could sense the stubble of hair bursting from his pores and nails expanding to ferocious claws.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t - you have to go.” He admitted in surrender. I felt the air thicken behind me as the three friends prepared for a battle once this would inevitably get ugly.

I shook my head and grabbed his in my hands, allowing the risk of his free forming claw to attack at any given moment. But I trusted him. As he said, he wouldn’t hurt me. And I knew it.

I stole his eyes, begging into them to see me. His were squinted in terror, budding with tears. His lips trembled in fear and sincerity.

“I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.”

My throat pulsed with adrenaline filled oxygen and just like that, my lips crashed onto his. It was painful and severe and with purpose. His skin was white hot, but it was fragile all the same, filled with desire and need, and a magnificent vulnerability.

I could feel the twitching against his mouth, the irregular beat of his heart as my arms found their way around his shoulders and to his back to comfort him in an embrace.

Suddenly, his own cupped around me and stole me into his whimpered stature. I gasped, and clenched my eyes shut – for a moment I had thought he had fully transformed and was initiating an attack. But I began to feel warm, gentle hands, with gracious tips and no sharp talons.

He was softening in the hug, returning to his own senses. His skin was cooled and still, his bones stopped vibrating, and the boy I had so deeply considered, so earnestly cared for was back.

 “How in the fu-“ James mouthed, slumping his arms to his sides, and dropping his wand. Sirius looked over to him, finally able to let out a bewildered breath that had left him since the beginning of this confrontation. Peter stared on with a cheery, relieving laugh.

Remus refused to let me go, and I could feel his content as he wrapped me up in his body. I began to smile through his kiss pressed safely against my own. He pulled away, watching me with admiration.

We both stood, Remus still encasing me in his cuddle, and as we both finally found steadiness from the sting of the concrete floor, he noted the moon still highlighted across my face.

Swallowing in anticipation, I awaited his response.

“I knew it.” He exhaled brokenly, still sore and shaking his head subtly in disbelief as he stared intently at me.

“Not clumsy.” I giggled tenderly, brushing the flustered strands of hair away from his clammy temple, “Just a little reckless.”

He pecked at my forehead before lowering his to mine, “Thank you.”

 “Uh, hello?!”

We both stared back at the friends now inspecting the pair of us in befuddlement.

“I told you to trust me.” Remus squinted from the unaccustomed brightness and teased a smirk.

With murmured cursives, they all approached, playfully retrieved Remus, and tackled him under the hue of the full moon, completely free of the fear that had devastated the entirety of their friendship. At last, but not knowing how long or how guaranteed the freedom, they weren’t looking to the night sky to determine their friend’s fate. Or even their own. The conversation could wait, for now they wanted to savour it, and by the looks on all their faces, they certainly were.

 After the ruckus, Remus took my hand and aided me back to the room of requirement where the party had died down, and students were dispersing to their dorms.

“I can finally have a night off from your wolfy shenanigans.” Sirius joked as they all gave quick exchanges of farewells; James tapped me on the back gratefully while Sirius winked his thanks. Peter ruffled up Remus’ hair before the three of them headed back to their own rooms with new skips in their steps.

 As I swivelled to face him, ready to declare my own goodnight after quite possibly the best, craziest and most mentally exhausting night of my life so far, Remus had made way towards the other end of the small area that we had spent the larger portion of our evening; back at the grand fireplace to retrieve the book that had been awaiting his return. The flames were still high, and the room dimly-lit. He glanced over at me with a look of pure welcome.

The reality was, I didn’t want to go to my dorm. Not one bit. I was finally able to be alone with Remus tonight, for its majority had been plagued with self-loathing and misunderstanding. Now, stood against the heat of the room with a look of unimaginable adoration, I couldn’t resist enjoying his company longer.

I came to, inviting myself into his space and ran one hand up against the chest of almost tattered robes while the other caressed against the top of his fingers clutching his book.

He raised his brow with a cheeky expression.

“No more funny business. How about you just… read to me.”

He stole a light approving kiss and ushered me to sit beside him on the large sofa. Wriggling my way below the arm he now had raised for me to rest under, he skimmed the pages and creased spine to find his place in his story.

He gave me one last check, beaming with appreciation, and comforted himself into my embrace.

“The day had finally arrived. After four years in the waiting, the infamous Robert Grimshaw would return home. Whenever the appropriate occasions called, the locals would greed themselves on talk of him - his woeful story, and his inevitable demise. Whispers were regularly made of his return, often retold, and largely falsified…“

I settled in, feeling my heavy eyes lower into a soft slumber against Remus’ low beating heart.

It was turning to be a quiet night and at long last for Remus…

 Peaceful.

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 48 - Strings that Bind

Title: Irreverent Pt. 48 - Strings that Bind

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~9K

Irreverent Series Masterlist

Every part of you ached as you walked towards your bedroom, past Jack's door, down the long hallway. Your clothes clung to you as you clumsily made your way to the room. There was a shooting pain on your left side from where you'd taken a spill earlier. Your body screamed its protest at your insistence on pushing it to keep moving despite the hell it had endured, yet you force yourself to continue on through the pain. Your brain felt numb and like it had overheated in exertion at the same time. Finally so much made sense and yet, nothing really did. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

As you entered, the room was dark save for the light streaming in from the hallway. You hadn't bothered turning it on yet. The dark felt better. You'd arrived home to a quiet house - Jack asleep already and Mrs. Avery leaving with a quick goodbye, seemingly sensing your desire to not speak much. She was good like that - perceptive, unobtrusive. In a way she reminded you of Mrs. Hernandez from when you were younger. In hindsight, you had more memories of her than you ever did of your own mother, despite her being let go after only a year. Your mother never did manage to keep a nanny around for too long. It wasn't that you were a troublesome child. She simply hated seeing you or Julian growing attached to any of them in particular, and thus kept a revolving door of nannies in and out of the house.

She'd hated that you insisted on calling her Mother. Never Mom or anything else softer - more personal, less clinical. Julian had tried to please her. He'd call her Mom to her face and revert to Mother otherwise. You wouldn't deign to give her that comfort. Participation trophies should be limited to children on soccer fields.

You shuffle into the room, trying to move quietly, peeling the jacket off and letting it fall out of your grasp and onto the floor. You glance over at the empty bed - Aaron was still away on a case. For the best, really. If he saw you right now, he would be able to tell that something was amiss. You reach up to swipe away at the tears that had formed as you'd trudged up the stairs, smearing eyeliner and dirt in your wake. You should go take a shower, clean up the dirt and soot that's coating you like a film. Instead you find yourself lowering against the side of the bed, feet planted to the floor as the tears take over, despite your attempts to keep yourself in check. Hot and wet, running down your cheeks in vain as you think back over the past twelve hours. How had everything gone to shit so fast?

You look up when you hear a shuffling outside your room, only to see Jack standing in the doorway, illuminated by the golden light outside, rubbing at his eyes. You feel a sting of guilt go through you as you realize you must've been loud enough on your way in to have woken him up. It was far too late for him to be awake.

"H–Hello." His voice comes out soft and groggy as he pushes open the door to your bedroom and makes his way inside, forcing more light to fall upon you.

He reaches you before you're able to force yourself to stand. You don't want him to see you like this but it is a little too late for that. Quickly wiping away any remnant tears with the sleeves of your shirt, you look up at his face. "Hey Bud, what're you doing up?"

Jack shrugs as if to say I don't know, just because before settling down in front of you on the floor and crossing his legs. He looks up at you from there and you feel yourself being appraised in a manner eerily similar to Aaron. Between the two of you, you'd raised a kid that was a little too perceptive and observant for his own good.

"Are you okay?" he asks, moving in closer and putting his smaller hand on yours in a way you're quite certain he's seen Aaron do before.

You can feel your heart swell at the care and concern behind his question. You sniff and nod, before forcing a watery smile on your face. "I just miss your dad," you tell him, knowing that at least it wasn't a lie, even if it wasn't the entire truth.

Jack watches you for a moment, head tilted to the side as if in deep thought. How deep could a six year old's thoughts even be?

"When I miss you or Daddy, I cuddle with Theo," he says finally, as if he's a little doctor prescribing the medicine to your ailment. You could imagine Jack on the nights neither you nor Aaron is at home, padding over to the shelf where his stuffed toys sit, and reaching over to grab the brown teddy bear that you'd gotten him after Haley passed away. Over the years the bear had been through quite a bit, getting dragged to playdates and the park early on, before retiring to a spot of prominence on the stuffed toy shelf. You'd done your best to keep him clean through all that time but despite that, Theo had gone through quite a few bows – a different color each time. If you weren't mistaken, it was a blue colored bow at the moment.

You smile at him, dragging him closer to you while making sure you aren't getting him dirty in the process. "Does it help?"

He nods. "A little. Then you're both back and I don't miss you anymore. Daddy will be back soon. He promised."

In that moment, you're so grateful that he has Aaron's eyes, because Aaron's eyes are whiskey and Aaron's eyes are honey and they are the first drip of coffee in the morning, helping you warm up and feel safe and at home always. Jack's eyes hold all of his father's heart and comfort but lack the sadness that life has flecked Aaron's with. It makes them better in a way. You could almost imagine it's what Aaron's had once been like.

You have to force yourself to take a deep breath in lieu of doing what you actually want to do, which is simply hold Jack like your own personal teddy bear and rock back and forth while crying. That might freak him out more than he likely already is.

"You wanna be my little cuddle bug for the night? Sleep here?" you ask, standing and lifting him with you as you go.

Jack nods enthusiastically, already moving to climb up onto the bed on Aaron's side. You watch as he makes himself comfortable, before you go get cleaned up.

By the time you emerge, Jack has already fallen back asleep and the only sound is from his gentle breathing. For a split second, you debate running down and grabbing your gun to keep by the bed, just in case. However, you remind yourself that the alarm system is in place and having the gun nearby has a much higher chance of hurting you or Jack than helping.

With that thought squared away, you gingerly lift the covers on your side, before slipping in carefully, so as to not disrupt the sleeping little boy next to you.

You lie awake for a while as you sift through everything that you've learned recently and how that changes things going forward. Tonight had been reckless on your part, and yet absolutely necessary. You couldn't even imagine what might've happened if you'd hesitated or not gone out there. You're once again thankful that Aaron is safely working a case in South Dakota, because you are nowhere ready to talk about everything just then. Nor could you, really. You couldn't actually tell him even if you wanted to – that was the worst part of all.

You're just about to drift away, when you feel Jack shift next to you, rolling over in his sleep to be closer, seeking you out with all of his limbs until you shift to be right next to him. He sighs in his sleep, causing the soft hair that had fallen into his face to flutter up with the next breath. He could use a haircut.

"Mama"

His lips had scarcely moved, eyelids fluttering barely. A single, heavenly word. A whisper into which he breathed life. You freeze as he unconsciously shuffles closer, seeking out your body heat even under the covers. His little fingers tightening into the material of your shirt. You couldn't look away from him if you tried – eyes glued to his sleeping form, his long eyelashes, his angelic face. Your heart thumped and rattled against your ribs before settling in your throat. You didn't dare move. Didn't dare breathe. Just watched him. Watched as he clung to you even in his sleep.

*------------*

The team has been working on a case locally in Maryland, so Aaron has been able to spend the last few nights at home with Jack. He'd come back from South Dakota, in the evening to Jack and Mrs. Avery, having just missed you. The two of you had caught one another on a phone call as he drove to the airport a few states away and you drove to the airport, off to Europe once more. You'd sounded just a little subdued during the short call the two of you share, more so exchanging logistical information regarding Jack and his schedule rather than anything else.

You're supposed to arrive back tomorrow and the three of you have tickets to opening night for the ballet season which Jack has actually been looking forward to quite a bit. He'd already modeled his new outfit for the occasion for his father and when Aaron had looked in his closet, he'd seen a new suit for himself along with a tie matching Jack's bowtie. When you'd found the time to do all that along with preparing a few days' worth of meals and leaving a tray of tiramisu for him in the fridge, was entirely beyond him. As far as he knew, you were only back home with Jack for two days. Two very productive days it seemed like. He had a feeling that meant you hadn't slept much, if at all.

Aaron shifts as he continues to look over the paperwork he was catching up on. Despite an active case going on, it appears the cooling off period for this Unsub was fairly long, and so while the rest of the team ran down some leads, Garcia was digging deeper to see what she could unearth about the case. It left Aaron with a couple of free hours to start logging the ongoing paperwork for this case and catch up on the nearly thirty emails from Strauss around getting JJ recertified for fieldwork, as she had recently returned from her maternity leave (over far too quickly, as he'd been sure to tell her). The two of you had met baby Michael briefly, soon after his birth, going along with the rest of the team to JJ's home, laden with presents. Seeing you hold the baby with the utmost care, cradling him in your arms and softly cooing to him as he made himself at home in your embrace – it had stirred something within Aaron. You'd looked beautiful, your face glowing as you looked down at Michael, your eyes sparkling when you'd looked up and met his. He wanted that. He really wanted that with you.

He looks up then at the framed photo of the two of you on his desk and his heart fills with affection – it was the picture from New York, the two of you kissing on that red carpet. Dave had gone and gifted a framed copy to everyone on the team for Christmas, as a memento of that visit, and both of yours sat on your respective desks. Dave's copy had joined the slew of frames that sat on the counter running behind the desk in his office. Garcia's was the same for her own lair. JJ had taken her copy home and he's fairly confident it joined the scrapbook album she maintained as her art therapy – she said it kept her hands busy and her mind empty, best of both worlds. He's unsure where Morgan's copy ended up but he hasn't seen it around. Likely shoved to the back of the bottom drawer of his desk. Reid too had forgone the frame and Aaron had seen him use an oddly folded copy of the picture as a bookmark, whilst they'd been on the plane. Reid had gone to some effort to fold it in a manner so that your face was folded inwards – a difficult task indeed when one considered that the two of you had your lips locked together and he'd dipped you backwards. However it was Prentiss's copy which had truly caught his attention. It sat on her desk, in the same frame Dave had gifted it in. At first, Aaron had found this to be odd, because why would Prentiss want a framed photo of her coworkers kissing on her own desk. However, late one evening, when he was the last to vacate the premises, he'd walked by and upon closer inspection saw exactly why she kept it on her desk. She'd vandalized it. In true homage to her teenage rebel self, she'd gone and taken a sharpie, drawing a vastly exaggerated handlebar mustache on Aaron's face and a small tiara on your head. He would rather die than admit that it had drawn a small laugh out of him, as he'd put the frame back exactly where he picked it up from and walked his way towards the elevators.

Aaron shifts in the chair, rolling his shoulder back, still sore from the workout he'd had with Morgan earlier that morning, before turning back towards the form he was in the midst of filling out. His hands move with rote familiarity, filling in the details from the case thus far. He'd started to have an odd feeling about this case a couple days ago. Something about the victims had started to feel off and running it by Morgan, his feeling had been corroborated. As a result, Garcia was running a more thorough investigation on linking all of the victims together.

The working out with Morgan was a new thing, borne out of him asking you why you never chose to work out with him, with you opting to go spar with Morgan instead. You'd confessed that since your exit from the team, you didn't get much time with Morgan. Working out together was a way for the two of you to still have some of that one on one time. You'd been sure to add on that there were quite a few workouts you'd want to engage in with Aaron alone, and those were all clothing optional.

All joking aside, you did seem to actually get a lot out of working out with Morgan, and so Aaron had thought that maybe it would be nice for him to do the same. Morgan had been quick to agree and the two of them had started with just running and lifting weights in the gym downstairs. It was easy to see why you enjoyed this time with Morgan, just the two of you. In the field he was a colleague who always had someone's back. In the gym, he put on more of the coaching hat and would walk through drills and steps with a calm and serene tone that was entirely approachable. Over the past few weeks, Aaron had easily bridged several subjects that neither him nor Morgan had touched over a decade of working together. It was primarily Aaron letting down his guard and allowing himself to vocalize his concerns regarding you and how much you'd taken on recently. Morgan, in turn, had conveyed his appreciation for Aaron's role leading the team, and had confided in him that it was highly unlikely he'd ever want to be unit chief again himself. If anything, taking on the mantle in Aaron's absence had convinced him of quite the opposite, and with him and Savannah getting married and thinking of starting a family, there was a high chance he might want to shift his career towards one that allowed a semblance of a family life. Knowing what he did now, Aaron could do nothing but wholeheartedly support that decision.

"Hotch."

Aaron looks up at the call of his name, to see Morgan standing in his doorway, looking agitated.  

"What's going on?" Aaron's already standing, making his way towards the door.

"Garcia found something last night, but we just got interrupted," Morgan explains, already turning away and walking towards the conference room where the team was set up to work on the case together. Aaron is quick to follow, his shoulders tensing and his brow furrowing as they both make their way to the room.

The sight that greets Aaron is odd, to say the least. Reid is stood near the whiteboard in the corner marker still in hand, Rossi has his arms crossed and is glaring towards the center of the room, and both JJ and Prentiss are stood like female lions, set to pounce on any threat to their cub. The cub in question - Garcia - was stood in the center at the round table, defiantly glaring up at Anderson, who it appeared, had stopped her from proceeding with her work. He was standing with one hand on her laptop and the other on the back of her chair, effectively preventing her from working any further.

"Agent Anderson, would you please mind explaining what is going on here?" Aaron squares his shoulders and fixes Anderson with a firm look, not at all appreciating how he's cornered Garcia and invaded her space.

However, before Anderson has a chance to explain, the door to the conference room opens and Aaron turns to see you standing there. His heart quickly fills with warm affection at the sight of you. He hadn't expected you home for another couple of days, so this was a pleasant, albeit untimely surprise.

He assumes you'd come looking for him, however he needs to deal with the situation at hand first, despite how much he'd rather just usher you away to his office and keep you to himself for say, the next hour or so, at least.

Aaron smiles at you quickly to acknowledge your presence and sees the others relaxing ever so slgihtly as well. "Hi sweetheart, if you want to wait in my office, you can. I can meet you there. Just have to deal with something first."

Instead of acknowledging him and leaving, however, you enter and close the door behind you, before quickly approaching Anderson and Garcia. "Agent Anderson, would you mind stepping outside, please?" you ask, your order soft but assertive. Anderson is quick to nod and do just as you asked without question. He releases the laptop and nods at Aaron before turning towards the door.

Aaron watches, confused, as Anderson closes the door behind him. What on earth was going on and how were you involved? Since when did Anderson take orders from you? It is obvious from the looks on everyone else's faces, that their thoughts mirror his own.

"Penelope," you turn now to Garcia, who was still at the table, hovering over her computer. "I need you to explain to me how you gained access to the file on Project Titan."

There's a tense silence as the team looks between you and Garcia, piecing together that the interruption to Garcia's work was linked to your current assignment. The name of the project was unfamiliar to Aaron. It wasn't in any internal briefing packets or any departmental meetings. That could only mean it was classified to the maximum degree.

Garcia's brow furrows deeper as she looks at you in surprise, and she shakes her head, her colorful earrings bouncing as she does, before she even speaks the words. "I can't do that, Y/N You know I can't."

Your lips press together in annoyance at the answer you receive. You wanted this to be easier. You hadn't expected pushback. Aaron finally snaps out of his confusion and recognizes that he has to take control of the situation before anything spirals out further. "Y/N, what is going on?"

You look up sharply, meeting his eyes only for a second, during which Aaron can immediately tell that you are incredibly tired. Worn out almost. He detects more makeup than normal, likely covering up dark circles underneath your eyes. If he's not mistaken, it would appear that your clothes are hanging just the slightest bit looser on your frame, as though you'd lost some weight in the two weeks since he'd last seen you. There's a look in your eyes that gives him great pause – it's not fear exactly, but perhaps fear mixed with resignation. An acceptance for what needs to come next.

You scan the room as you speak, taking in the piles of files and the work on the whiteboard. "The BAU is no longer to investigate the Busch murder or any other affiliated crime." Your eyes come back to land on the computer sitting in front of Garcia. That's your sole objective right now. It's the only thing that matters.

The air in the room changes immediately, from tense to downright confrontational. Aaron knows that the rest of the team is looking to him, barely breathing. They're trusting him to handle whatever is going on, because he's the boss. None of them would risk speaking up and saying the wrong thing. They've been through this before countless times with other adversaries in the field - overzealous prosecutors, territorial detectives, politicians high on their own power. However it's you now. You're the person on the other side.

"You do not have the authority to tell the BAU which cases we can or cannot take," he says quickly, hoping to keep the conversation to a minimum and resolve whatever is going, alone with you back in his office. He tries to gesture at you to follow him out of the room, but his efforts are rebuffed once more.

"Actually I – I can," you falter just barely as you turn back to him, lips pressed together and shoulders hunched ever so slightly, your lips worn as though you'd been biting them in frustration. You don't want to be doing this – that much is quite obvious to Aaron. "This comes straight from the top. This case has been tagged as classified and this team is no longer authorized to work it." Your voice is detached, as though deliberately trying to avoid any of your obvious ties to the team you're speaking of. Your team.

"Garcia," you turn once more to face her, "it is of the utmost importance that you tell me how you got to the Titan files. It has grave security implications around the project," you repeat your earlier request to Garcia, this time with an attempt at persuasion, hoping to appeal to her innate desire to help you in particular. Aaron can acknowledge that that is exactly what you're doing in that moment. Trying to leverage your relationship to Garcia while simultaneously distancing yourself from the team. He has to acknowledge. He does not have to like it.

Garcia shakes her head again at your question, looking up and meeting Aaron's eyes. She's scared and her eyes are wide with fear, yet brimming with defiance still. She's awaiting his  instruction on how she should proceed. This was such a bizarre situation. You have to know very well that Garcia had done what she usually does – employ a slightly dubious manner of obtaining any information asked of her. Usually that is perfectly fine. Usually no one stops her. Usually she doesn't have friends on both sides – one asking her not to speak while the other implores her to give herself up.

You turn and follow Garcia's eyesight, only to see Aaron shaking his head almost imperceptibly. He's indicating to her to not speak at all. Saying nothing is far better than saying something in this case, he's decided. Saying anything at all could cause a ripple effect of consequences that they have no visibility to yet.

"Y/N, why don't we take this to my office?" He is intent on moving this discussion so that the two of you can speak more freely and get to the root of whatever is happening here.

You look at him once more, apology in your eyes as you let out a sigh. Shit. He can feel the tense coil in his stomach grow tighter. He's not used to seeing you like this. So very obviously doing someone else's bidding. He didn't even know yet what Garcia had stumbled upon, but if it had to do with your project – from what little he knows of it – it wasn't good. It simultaneously raises the stakes for the string of murders the team had been investigating, as well as effectively shuts them out. As it stands, your clearance level is actually higher than his. Higher than Strauss's even.

Ignoring Aaron's request another time, you pull your shoulders back and stand to the full extent of your height, back completely straight. Even then you barely are able to look Penelope head on. "Agent Garcia," your voice is clipped as though you're reading from a script, and Garcia immediately takes a small unconscious step back at your words. "I need you to hand over the laptop to me and if I have to ask again, it will be in an interrogation room and I will recommend that you retain a lawyer."

A loud silence rings through the room at the threat you'd issued. You'd run the gamut for your patience with the situation and you're prepared to see this through to a bitter end if need be. Aaron knows that wasn't you at all and he also knows that whoever was puppeteering you at that moment had enough pull for you to do this at all. Meaning this was the nicest possible version of whatever the original threat had been, watered down at your insistence. There was no way you would let someone just threaten Penelope without a fight.

He meets Morgan's gaze and then turns to Rossi. The three of them have a silent exchange before Aaron turns once more to Garcia, who was now clutching the laptop to her chest as though her life depended on it.

You look between him and Garcia, carefully avoiding looking at Morgan or Prentiss. Your eyes urge him to comply, because you can't promise that the situation won't escalate otherwise. He knows that. He knows that you're trying to resolve this in as easy of a manner as possible with minimal blowback to the team. Trusting that you know what you're doing, he nods at Garcia, giving her the go ahead to hand over the laptop. Whatever happens next, they'll deal with it.

You nod your thanks at Aaron for not putting up more of a challenge. "Thank you." Squaring up once more, you swallow, your tongue peeking out briefly to lick your lips and Aaron can see that the hand that isn't holding on to the laptop is clenched tightly. No doubt there will be red indented crescents in your soft palms momentarily.

Thinking that was the end of it, Aaron is about to usher you into his office if he can, however as you turn once more to Garcia, your next words shock him to the core. "Effective immediately, you are suspended, pending further notice."

There is an immediate outcry. Morgan asks you what you think you're doing. Prentiss is quick to move closer to Garcia. JJ informs you that you cannot do that. However it is Garcia who appears entirely stupefied and paralyzed. The hurt look on her face, accompanied by the sharp gasp had forced you to turn away from her, avoiding the betrayal tinged tears in her eyes.

You continue on, however, ignoring everyone but Aaron now. "The BAU needs to hand over any material on the case thus far. You are not to investigate it further. You are not to disseminate this information to anyone else. You are not to speak of it to one another. Any violation of these terms will result in an immediate suspension for all involved parties, pending internal review."

With that, you walk past your old teammates, past Aaron, and open the door to Anderson waiting outside. "Agent Anderson, will you please escort Agent Garcia to her office to grab any personal belongings and then follow her to her home. Any Bureau issued devices must be confiscated from there as well."

Anderson nods and looks expectantly at Garcia, who is standing in the midst of the rest of the others, Morgan's hand on her back, rubbing in soothing circles.

She gives a shaky nod before moving away from everyone and walking towards the door. As she approaches you, Aaron sees you reach out and grab her arm before leaning in and whispering something into her ear, imperceptibly low. He turns immediately to Reid, hoping he was able to discern whatever you had said, and Reid nods as they all watch Anderson escort Garcia away. You'd angled yourself at an angle optimal for him to be able to read your lips.

You scan the room once more, a dissatisfied grimace on your face, before your eyes land finally on Aaron once more. He has no words for you, unsure of what to say or what to do without knowing more. You nod once more at him, and he takes that to mean that the two of you will discuss whatever just happened later at home that night.

Turning, you closing the door behind you as you go, the laptop clutched in your hands and he watches you walk down the stairs, teetering in the heels you were wearing, and through the bullpen towards the exit. He can just barely make out you calling the elevator, and instead of going down, you go up. He can only imagine which floor you're headed to.

He turns back to face the team, finding them all looking at him.

Reid looks up meeting Aaron's eyes, his own giving away how shaken he was with the events that had just transpired.

"Reid, what did Y/N say to Garcia?"

Reid swallows, looking around the room at the rest of the team – Morgan who still looks furious, JJ and Prentiss who both seem to be processing the strange turn of events, and Rossi, whose normally stoic outlook was marred by a grim expression.

"Be careful. They'll be watching."

*------------*

By the time you arrive back home, it is very late and the house appears to be dark, save for the light emanating from the small lamp in the study. You stop outside the door, keys in one hand and bag in the other, and take a deep breath. Today had been absolute shit. From the rushed plane ride back ,to the conversation with McKinney, to having to actually be the one to issue Garcia's suspension notice – this day would make the top worst days on the job hall of fame. Who would've thought you'd ever go toe to toe with the Director of the FBI and live to tell the tale?

You feel dead tired on your feet and you genuinely could not remember the  last time you'd slept, having asked the flight attendant for an energy drink an hour prior to landing, and having chugged another one on the walk over from McKinney's office to the BAU conference room. It was a wonder your heart hadn't given out right then, thrumming inside as fast as a hummingbird's when you'd entered that conference room to see Anderson having followed your instructions to impede Garcia from digging any further into the files.

A deep sigh leaves you as you unlock the door and enter quietly, quickly removing your heels before turning towards the study. You knew to expect Aaron there, and there he was. He was at the desk, surrounded by paperwork, and looking up at your entrance. You'd figured he would stay up no matter what. He'd been the worst part of today. Having to go over his head. In front of the team. You could only imagine how that might have made him feel. It had definitely made you feel like the absolute worst person on the planet.

You walk to the doorway of the study, stopping at the entrance. He meets your gaze head on, and you're happy to note that he actually looks well despite everything. The past few days at home seem to have done him some good. He has a healthy glow about him, his hair flopping on his forehead, his white t-shirt stretched across his chest. If you're not mistaken, he looks just a little more filled out, in the best of ways – his typically lean body packed with slightly more definition. Something you'd learned to notice through Derek.

"Hi." His voice is softer than you'd anticipated considering your actions from earlier in the day.

You offer him a small, quick smile in response. "Hey."

It's quiet as the two of you look at one another, both unsure how exactly to proceed. You look at your watch, and noting the hour, know you need to move this along despite wanting to linger and explain everything. You don't have that luxury. "Can we talk while I pack? I'm sorry," you sigh. "I have another flight out in a few hours."

Aaron's brows knits together, reminding you that he doesn't know of the change to your schedule yet. However, he nods, knowing you'll explain further. Standing, he walks over to you, wordlessly reaching for your bag, and together you both head upstairs to the bedroom, not wanting to make too much noise while Jack was asleep.

You enter first and walk towards the bathroom and through to the closet, Aaron walking in behind you and closing the door before following. He watches quietly as you quickly change into clothes you'd be more comfortable in during the flight, and in lieu of having nothing else to do, occupies himself with emptying your bag and dumping the clothes into the laundry basket, before busying himself with replenishing your toiletry kit with practiced ease. Anything to make this easier on you. He's tempted to ask if you'd eaten today but he's worried he won't like that answer and he doesn't want to agitate you further with whatever his own reaction would be. He trusts you'll eat on the plane once you're able.

"I'm sorry for today." You've started to pick out a new set of clothes for the next trip, not entirely sure how many days you should pack for. Clyde hadn't been too clear. You decide to err on the side of overpacking, grabbing a few outfits for a professional setting and many others for casual casework, before dumping the entirety of your underwear drawer into a packing cube.

"Let me guess, you can't say anything." Aaron's finished replacing anything you'd run out of, even making more to make a few more pads and tampons for you from underneath the sink, knowing you're about due for your period soon. He'd had the entire evening to think through the events of earlier and he knows his hands are tied and so are yours. He doesn't want to shoot the messenger – he knows that was what you'd been forced into being today. None of that was your call.

You smile your thanks as he hands you a fully loaded toiletry kit, trusting him to have done it perfectly as he has countless times before. "Not much, I'm afraid. But understand that that was the best possible outcome for the time being. There were talks of a treason charge that – well let's just say that depending on what is found on the computer, there's a chance I won't have a job by tomorrow morning."

Aaron halts at that as you continue to fold and put clothing into the bag. He'd suspected as much, but to actually hear that you'd put your own job on the line for Garcia – needless to say he isn't surprised. If anything, it makes it so that he trusts that you did your absolute best to ensure that no harm would come from the backlash, to either Garcia or the rest of the team. His respect for you increases tenfold. He's not so much worried about solving some highly classified murder cases as he is about ensuring that nothing happens to the team or you.

"Are you alright?" He makes sure to catch your gaze as you move around, so that he'll know if you aren't being entirely honest as you answer that particular question.

It had been a while since anyone had actually asked you that, and really you don't have it in you to lie to Aaron. You pause to look at him directly, your shoulders dropping as you release a deep sigh. "No. I just can't do anything about it yet."

He hates this. He hates that you feel entirely vulnerable and exposed and entirely helpless to change that. He hates that he can't do anything to make it better. You shouldn't have to feel like this while he's around. You shouldn't have to look at him and feel like you can't ask anything of him. How is he supposed to be the person you turn to if you aren't even permitted to tell him what you're dealing with?

Sighing, he runs a hand over his face tiredly as you finish packing and zip up the bag, hoisting it up by the handle, only for him to reach forward and grab it from you once more before the two of you exit to the bedroom. There, he sets the bag down and grabs your arm – the first true physical contact the two of you have had in two weeks and you can feel your resolve to keep it together waver just at that alone.

Aaron pulls you in, hugging you tight, his arms encasing you fully. You can feel the warmth seeping through him, feel his heart beating in his chest as you rest your cheek against it, allowing yourself this moment of respite. You sniffle slightly, holding the tears at bay. It was so easy to let yourself open up to him, and yet you truly couldn't afford to breakdown then. Later, you tell yourself. After this is over.

You reluctantly pull away, knowing there's at least one more thing you need to discuss with him tonight before you have to leave. He looks down at you in question, having noted the sudden tensing of your jaw as you look up at him. You bite your lip and he resists the urge to lean down and soothe the ache there – kiss over all the places you'd bitten raw until they're better.

"Today sucked, Aaron," you confess, your voice hushed and your throat heavy with held back emotion, still standing in the circle of his arms. "The worst part was going over your head though. I know you aren't saying it, because you're far too noble to say anything about it, but I know that sucked for you too."

Aaron takes in a deep breath, thinking over your acknowledgement, knowing you're opening the floor to have that conversation further. However right then, you superseding his authority is the least of his concerns. He's not bothered by it in the same manner you appear to be.

"Can you handle me doing this job, knowing that this could happen again?" You look up at him with worry in your eyes, watching his reaction carefully.

At your question, he tenses. His mind goes to the worst of places and his breath comes out shallow as he looks down at you, a storm brewing behind his molten eyes. "What does that mean?"

Your brow furrows, appraising his question and his reaction in tandem, before realizing exactly where his head went at that. "Hey, relax, it's alright." You reach out and softly brush your hands down his arms before reaching up to cup his jaw softly, thumb caressing lightly back and forth across his cheek. "This isn't you and Haley, Aaron," you remind him. "I'm not you and you are definitely not Haley."

He nods, though his posture remains tense despite his face eagerly tilting and allowing the comfort you offered with your touch.

"I have a job offer," you continue, "from the CIA. I haven't responded to it yet – told them I'm actively working a case and can't give them an answer yet. But, if this, us – if we are going to have issues running into each other at work, then there are other options."

This is news to Aaron. He hadn't known you were being sought out by the Agency and while he isn't surprised that they'd reach out to you – you're brilliant, of course they would – he's surprised that you're entertaining it. He's familiar with your disdain for the CIA, still holding somewhat of a grudge from your initial rejection. However, to know that you'd consider working somewhere you don't like, for the sake of preserving your relationship with him – that's not something he would ever ask of you. He was an adult and so were you. Professional disagreements did not have to bleed into your personal life, especially with him knowing exactly how much you'd risked today for Garcia's sake.

"I can handle it," he's quick to reassure you, moving his head to kiss your palm, his hand reaching up to grab yours, squeezing gently.

You pause, assessing his answer, before nodding. "Okay, offer still stands if you reconsider. I have until this wraps up to decide."

You reach for your bag but he beats you to it, grabbing it once more as the two of you make your way out of the room and down the hallway. You pause briefly outside of Jack's room, wanting to see him but decide against it. You don't want to risk waking him up and getting him all excited.

Aaron notes your pause and with you leaving once again despite there being ballet tickets booked for Saturday, he knows you're going to have to disappoint Jack on that front. He meets your eyes and smiles softly, understanding in his eyes. You don't usually make promises you can't keep with Jack. That's always been more so his thing.

The two of you reach the foyer once more and you turn around and grab the bag from Aaron's hands. The driver is still waiting for you outside.

"Kiss him for me? I'll call as soon as I can."

He nods. "Of course sweetheart."

You lean up quickly, a quick brush of your lips against his that he's quick to reciprocate. His arms wind around your back, lips greedily moving against yours. He'll make the most of any opportunity he has with you right now. He won't squander a single second. Not when every kiss like this leads to your extended absence each time. Not when every kiss is only a reminder of all the kisses the two of you have missed out on lately. Not when neither of you are ever sure which kiss could be the last.

You move away, your eyes sparkling once more in a way that is so familiar to him that it causes a pang in his chest just to have a glimpse of them like this, if only for a moment. If only even as you're leaving. He'll take it. He'll take whatever you can give. Anything. Everything.

Then you're out the door and he watches the driver exit and take your bag for you. You wave quickly, urging him to go back inside. Then you're gone. Just like that, you're gone.

*------------*

The team had moved on to another case after being banned from the Busch murder investigation. As it stood, the official party line was that they were deferring to the will of the higher ups. Rossi had even brought the matter to Strauss's attention, and while she had been surprised by what had transpired, she'd told them both that it was entirely out of her hands. The decision had come down from McKinney directly and there was no changing his mind.

It had been about a week since he'd seen you off, during which you'd called once to apologize to Jack for having to miss the ballet. Jack had taken it well enough, and you'd promised that you were going to do your best to make it up him. You'd already lined up Prentiss to fill in for you, knowing Jack would appreciate having Auntie Emily to spoil him for the evening. Aaron had spoken with you then, and you'd told him that you would do your best to figure out the Garcia situation. The team was struggling working with Kevin Lynch; he simply lacked Garcia's natural talents.

Aaron, however, finds himself far more concerned about you. He knows that ultimately Garcia would be fine. He'd already submitted a request to have her reinstated and even Strauss was supporting him in getting her back as soon as possible. However, with you, he feels entirely helpless. Obviously the assignment with Interpol had you run ragged and you'd even confessed that not everything was alright, but with your differing levels of clearance at the moment, there wasn't much he could say or do to be of any assistance. As a result, your conversations together are brief – soft exchanges where he reminds you that he's there when you need him, whispered acknowledgements from you riddled with a pain that makes his heart ache for you. He knows too well how difficult it is to keep anything secret between the two of you, and this is something that you so obviously want to share with him, that it is painful for him to watch you struggle through it without being able to do just that.

Having just landed the night before from a case in Milwaukee, Aaron is busy reading through everyone's reports, his eyes glazing over Reid's – he expects nothing but the utmost thoroughness there. Looking it over is a formality at best. Not that he'd admit that to anyone else. Morgan, however, had confided in Aaron that whilst he'd been unit chief, he'd given up reviewing Reid's reports altogether. Aaron had to think he was getting soft with age – or maybe it was due to the kinder friendship he shared with Morgan nowadays. His only reaction had been a light chuckle, much to Morgan's surprise.

There's a knock at his door, interrupting his perusal, to which he grants entrance.

Looking up, he sees you standing there, a plain black suit hanging off of you, matching the dark circles that are plainly visible on your face. Your hair is pulled away from your face and tied up professionally and, surprisingly, you're wearing flat shoes. He can't remember ever seeing you wear flat shoes around the office, almost always opting for something with at least a slight heel. It's as though all pretense has left you, leaving behind only you in the rawest form – unable to pretend to be alright any longer.

"Hi." You walk in, forcing a  slight smile. The smile doesn't manage to reach your eyes.

He's about to stand so he can walk around to greet you, but you interrupt him with a quick shake of your head, raising your hand to stop him. "It's alright. I just came to drop this off."

You place a piece of paper on his desk, which he's quick to reach for, fingers brushing against yours. You pull back quickly. He doesn't say anything, unsure what to make of that. Maybe he'd imagined it.

They're reinstatement papers for Garcia. Her suspension was over.

"Thank you," he says quietly, looking up to meet your eyes. You blink and look down. He doesn't think he's ever seen you look quite so…frail. It makes all of his worries from the past week compound, and he's once again making to stand so he can greet you properly.

"It's alri–"

He's reached you before you can stop him again and as he reaches out for you he detects a nearly imperceptible flinch as his hand reaches up towards your arm. He stops, his stomach lurching. You don't flinch away from him. Ever.

"Sweetheart, are you sure you're alright?" he asks, making sure his voice is low and soft, as unthreatening as possible.

You look up to meet his eyes and you just look so entirely defeated. As if someone had stolen what little hope you might've had that this – whatever this was – would turn out alright.

"Um – yeah. It's fine. Don – don't worry about it." You take a deep breath and he can see you donning the mask once more. The mask that would allow you to walk out of his office. The one that had likely slipped in his presence out of habit, despite any attempts to keep it in place. Keep whatever was going on, hidden from him too. He's at once heartened to realize that you can't fake it in front of him if you tried, and terrified that you'd tried at all.

"Y/N – "

You're shaking your head, so he stops. He doesn't know what to do. How to help.

"I'm going to be off the grid for a bit," you inform him matter-of-factly, your voice clear and concise once more. "Might be hard to reach me, but if you need something, you should be able to go through McKinney."

You've turned around and are already walking away.

"Hey, wait."

His voice stops you at the door and you turn around towards him, eyebrow raised in question.

There's nothing more he can say at this moment. Nothing to convince you to stay or let go of this assignment. It would be futile and he knows it. Whatever it is that you're working through, he trusts that you'd tell him if you possibly could. Without that, the only thing he can do is hope and pray that this is over soon. That you come back to him safe and sound. So he says the only thing he can say.

"I love you."

You take a shallow, shuddered breath, your jaw clenching as you meet his worried gaze. There's a moment where he thinks that maybe you're about to simply give in – throw caution to the wind and tell him everything, consequences be damned. It passes as quickly as it appeared, however. You offer him the barest of smiles that's gone before he can truly bask in its arrival.

"I know."

With that, you're gone. He watches as you walk down the stairs, steps slowing down slightly behind Prentiss and Morgan's desks. Neither of them look up towards you. You continue on towards the elevators and then you're gone.

*------------*

Dave was coming for dinner that evening, and Aaron had just filled him in on your quick appearance earlier that afternoon. He's packing up his belongings while Dave waits for him, when Strauss peaks her head in to his office.

"Heading out?" she asks, looking from him to Dave.

Aaron nods.

Dave smiles and gestures her in. "I have a dinner date with a six year old. Aaron is chaperoning."

She lets out a light laugh and Aaron can't help but think that it's an odd sound coming from her. He's never going to get used to Strauss and Dave being a thing. He's almost grateful that you aren't there, as the last couple of times the two of you have seen Dave interacting with Strauss, you've gone out of your way to whisper the most disgustingly inappropriate things to him about the two of them and their supposed debauched sex lives. He could do without those particular nightmares.

"Aaron, I just wanted to drop off this paperwork for you. Agent L/N has already signed it, so it just requires your signature. Feel free to drop it off tomorrow." She hands him an envelope before breezing out of the room and wishing them both a good evening.

Aaron looks up to find Dave's face reflecting his own curiosity. What required yours and his signatures? The paperwork for your designation change had gone through a while ago.

He opens up the envelope and looks at the header. His vision starts to blur around the edges and he might have stumbled slightly, alarming Dave in the process, who marches forward and helps steady him, before grabbing the papers from Aaron's hands.

"Dissolution of Consensual Relationship Agreement?" Dave's words echo through the room and yet to Aaron it is as though he hears them from underwater. The big block lettering. Your signature on the line. Your delicate script outlining your name.

His heartbeat has sped up quite a bit. His hands feel clammy, his breath coming in short spurts. The ringing in his ears – always present in the background and easily ignored – is a high pitched whine as blood rushes madly through his veins.

"Aaron, look at me."

He looks up at Dave, who appears stunned despite his calm and direct voice. Aaron just feels numb. He surpassed shock within the first second. He's strictly at numbness now. His mouth feels dry as though there was a cotton ball in there. He blinks repeatedly as he tries to focus on Dave's face.

"Aaron, do you truly believe Y/N would ever end things with you in this way? Really?"

Would you? He has to think you wouldn't. There would be a conversation. Nothing had happened. Well, obviously something had happened, but nothing had happened between the two of you. Your things were still at home. You hadn't uttered a single word of this to him today, despite having come by to drop off Garcia's paperwork. Sure, that interaction hadn't been wonderful. It had left him with a deep concern that had occupied much of his thoughts the rest of the afternoon. But truly, no. Nothing was wrong with the two of you. At least, nothing that he knew of.

He slowly shakes his head.

"Exactly. She wouldn't. Look, something is obviously going on, but it boils down to one question. Do you trust her?"

He nods. Yes. Of course he trusts you. There is no one he trusts more.

"Alright, then let's not overreact. Once she's back, I'm sure there's some sort of reasonable explanation for this."

Dave's right. Aaron knows that he's right.

Even if he isn't, he's going to choose to believe him for now. The alternative would crush him entirely. He can't afford that. Not yet. Not until he's seen you and you confirm it one way or the other.

He takes a deep breath, looking from Dave to the papers that are still in his hand. Leaning forward, he grabs a pen from the cup on his desk. He knows what he has to do.

[thestraggletag]

Virtual Session, A Rumbelle Zoom Fic

Rating: Explicit.

Summary: Town meetings were usually drab, boring events, and having them over Zoom hadn't improved them much. Or so Mr Gold thought, until he forgot to log out of the meeting after it ended, only to discover a half-naked Belle French had also forgotten to do so.

SOMEONE PLEASE COMMENT WITH A BETTER SUMMARY I HATE IT.

Based on this prompt.

“We will review your presentation and hold a virtual vote before the month is up, Miss French. Thank you very much for your time.”

The mayor adjusted her suit jacket, her shirt riding up as she did so and unknowingly displaying the telltale white check of her Adidas yoga pants. Royce snickered, taking advantage of the fact he was muted.

“As there are no other pending topics on today’s agenda this virtual session is adjourned.”

He half-expected her to produce a gable out of thin air and bang it against her marble countertop. All around him people began to say their goodbyes and log out of Zoom, lest Regina decide to spring a surprise motion at the last minute. There was no need to flee, however, as Regina herself was one of the first to log off. Given the amount of smoke he had spotted coming from behind her right before she exited he did not need to guess what had caused her sudden departure.

“I guess no apple turnover for dessert at Madame Mayor’s.”

He heard an adorable chuckle and did not need to glance at the screen again to guess who it was. Very few people found his brand of dark humour palatable, but the librarian seemed to love it. It was nice, he soon found out, to have someone appreciate his often ill-received quips. It was one of the things he had first noticed about her. Well, other than her stunning eyes. And perhaps her hair, which was a lovely shade of reddish-brown. Her legs too, he acknowledged reluctantly, so nicely-displayed by her short skirts and high heels. And her-

He stopped himself. That way lay madness and he knew it. It was one thing to admire in an unattached way, from a distance. He was a connoisseur of beautiful things, after all, and Belle French was certainly beautiful. Unfortunately she also happened to have a lovely personality. Kind, generous, open, but also bold, defiant and the littlest bit dark. She flaunted the rules of smalltown society by wearing what the matrons around town considered “inappropriate clothing” for a librarian, and speaking to anyone and everyone, including those that polite society would urge her to shun. Drank beer with the miners, for example, men deemed “too coarse” for genteel women, and stocked the library with altogether undesirable books, be it because they dealt with unseemly issues or because they were from traditional authors. Which, he was sure, was code for “white men”, even if Mother Superior never quite spelled it out in such terms.

She was altogether dangerous for him, with her mix of light and dark, so he was always on his guard, lest his thoughts veer too far into dangerous territory. He didn’t fear scorn or derision if his feelings became too obvious for her to ignore. Belle was altogether too kind for that. But to be gently yet firmly rebuffed, and have their subsequent interactions laced by the barest hint of pity from her, would be unbearable. 

“I’m pretty sure that at least Mr Spencer didn’t hear a word I said. His camera was off during the whole of my presentation.” The librarian huffed, clearly bothered that her proposal to increase the library’s budget to repair the East Wing’s leaky ceiling wouldn’t get a fair shot. The wing was currently closed, and had been since she had taken the post of librarian, but with the newfound need of social-distancing, particularly in enclosed spaces, she hoped she could change that, make the town council see the need for more space in the library. “Though perhaps he didn’t want to be yelled at again for not being in a three-piece suit for a virtual town meeting.”

He briefly paused to remember Spencer’s red face when Regina had chastised him for wearing a white polo shirt instead of a shirt and tie during the last meeting.

“Kinda hypocritical of Madame Mayor, given she was a couple of clothing articles shy of a full tracksuit tonight.”

They shared a conspiratorial laugh, and he hoped the camera somehow toned down the stupid look on his face. He tried to avoid direct eye contact, looking instead mildly-interested in her living-room. Her laptop seemed to be perched somewhere on her dining-room table, giving him a great view of the rest of her flat, which was a loft, so it was open space, with exposed brick and tall ceilings. Though small it was tastefully-decorated, and with enough bookcases to make it seem like it was a part of the library he had never been to, if it weren’t for the kitchen area and the- and he told himself to stop looking at it- queen-size bed.

“Well, Miss French, at the risk of getting ahead of myself I can confidently state that things are looking good for your project. It was an excellent presentation and I could see Midas and Hopper were clearly in favour. That leaves the Mayor and Spencer outnumbered. Hell, I think even Regina will vote yes on this one. I know she’s keen on finding a place for students with connectivity issues to go do their homework and attend some classes. Fingers crossed the voting goes your way.”

He smiled at her, trying to look reassuring instead of besotted, and they exchanged their goodbyes. He closed his laptop, deciding that he needed a stiff drink first and a cold shower later, and went over to his wet bar, where after some debate he picked up a bottle of Ardberg and poured himself three fingers of Scotch, opting to forgo the ice and drink it straight. The alcohol burned pleasantly on its way down, making him loosen up almost immediately. He went over to the window, undoing the buttons of his vest and slipping it off as he did, feeling warmed by the whiskey. He chanced a glance outside, where the night remained crisp and clear, thankfully devoid of snow. It was still bitterly cold, though, and he hoped the library’s heating system, which was in need of maintenance as well, would not fail. The money for its maintenance had already been allocated and the budget for the work set, but perhaps he could email the person in charge of the job and… persuade them to make it a priority. The work should’ve already been done, but the pandemic had put a temporary stop on jobs like that with the exception of emergencies. Now that things were slowly returning to normal he was confident he could get the people working on the library by the end of the week with three sentences or less.

He went back to his laptop, determined to send the email as soon as possible. He opened it up and noticed, at first, that his camera light was still on. Almost as soon as his brain connected the dots and realised that he had forgotten to log off Zoom he noticed something else: so had Belle French. She was walking around her house, seemingly tidying things up and humming as she went along. It was a lovely, domestic little display, and though he knew he needed to log off fucking Zoom and stop intruding on what Miss French clearly thought was the privacy of her own home, he didn’t move the mouse. Surely there was no harm in indulging a bit. He was a lonely man, partly by design and partly by circumstance, and though he often told himself he wasn’t missing out on anything, he had to admit it was nice to- albeit accidentally- share an intimate moment with someone he had an affinity with. He imagined, for a moment, that instead of her living-room he was seeing her in his, picking up discarded books or perhaps the remnants of a tea they had shared together. He quickly shook himself out of that fantasy, alarm bells ringing in his mind, and refocused in the present, where Belle was taking off her cardigan. Well, surely, that meant the heating system was holding, which was a good thing. Which reminded him of his idea to write-

He glanced at the monitor again, where Belle French was now shimming out of her skirt.

He blinked, idiotically-confused for a second, as if the thought of a woman undressing was news for him. After the initial shock he took in all the details, fixsting on the black stripe on the back of her sheer black stockings, which she rolled down with painstaking care, the gesture almost painfully erotic. She started on the buttons of her sheer maroon shirt, undoing them with ease and shrugging out of the garment. The black camisole she wore underneath did nothing to conceal her lacy black culotte, which hugged her perfect ass like it was made for her. She went to unpin her hair next, letting the bobby pins that kept it off her sides of her face drop into a little ceramic bowl on her vanity. He was surprised at how much seeing her walk around her house with bare feet, shaking her hair out and stretching her limbs affected him. There was nothing inherently sensual about her movements, yet he was transfixed, unable to look away. Any hope of containing his attraction or attachment to the librarian vanished into thin air at that moment, leaving him equal parts scared and turned on.

It was then that his mostly-unused sense of decency decided to let itself be known, a wave of shame washing through him at the notion of what he was doing. Miss French had every right to her privacy, and here he was, violating it in the worst possible way. He should log out immediately and stay away from the librarian for a rather long time, enough for-

“Royce?”

His heart lurched painfully in his chest at the sound of her voice. Slowly, reluctantly, he turned his head towards the screen, telling himself that he deserved the scorn and disgust he was sure to see in the librarian’s face. But whatever hasty apologies and half-formed excuses he was about to blurt out died on his lips the moment he saw her: she was standing in profile, arms crossed in front of her chest and hands grasping the hem of her camisole, prepared to take it off, and her head was turned to the side, her eyes on her laptop screen. She didn’t look accusatory, or disgusted. She didn’t even look embarrassed. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone, but it looked more like… like... 

Arousal.

“I’m here, sweetheart.”

He could hardly recognise the low, growly burr as his voice. It sounded uncouth and harsh, like the way he used to speak back in Glasgow. He had worked for years on toning down his accent, letting only the barest hint of it show when he was trying to intimidate someone. Never enough to sound too much like he did back in his youth, and yet he hadn’t managed to quite rid himself of it. 

On screen Belle lifted the hem of her camisole a few inches, exposing supple, creamy skin. Royce tried hard not to swallow his own tongue. She bit her lip, suddenly hesitant, and fuck him if that sliver of vulnerability wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. 

“Is this… Is this okay?” 

It took him an embarrassingly-long time to understand that Belle fucking French was asking him if it was alright for her to strip in front of him, presumably for their mutual enjoyment. He reminded himself that he had had only one glass of Scotch, not enough to dismiss whatever was happening as a drunken daydream. Which he might have had, from time to time. About Belle. Maybe.

“It’s perfect, sweetheart.” 

Her lips curled into a coy smile, the growl in his voice making her shiver, and in one swift motion removed her camisole, revealing a lacy black bandeau bra with delicate details done in leavers lace. It matched her knickers, he noticed idly, and the black contrasted amazingly with her pale, softly-blushed skin. His keen eye noticed the exquisite craftsmanship right away. It was an expensive set, no doubt, and given how she was wearing during a commonplace day where she planned to stay home it led him to the conclusion that Belle French simply owned a lot of fancy lingerie, to the point that she wore it as an everyday sort of garment. He was very sure he would never again be able to look at her and not think about that.

“You’re gorgeous.”

In any other situation he would’ve been embarrassed to sound so… Reverent. So incredibly not in control of the situation. He might be fully-dressed, a man of means with a position of political power in their little hamlet and she might be a half-naked small-town librarian but he was absolutely powerless at the moment. And what was worse, he enjoyed it. 

“Thank you, Mr Gold.”

Though he loved the way she said “Gold”, with enough irreverence to turn her tone teasing, he desperately wanted her to say his name.

“Call me Royce, sweetheart.”

She walked over to the table, flipped the chair and sat down, draping her arms loosely around the backrest, the position loose and cocky. There was no doubt in her now, no hesitance. She had assumed control of the situation, for which he was grateful. She tilted her head to a side, sizing him up.

“You’re wearing a lot of clothes, Royce. I feel at a disadvantage.”

She smiled, looking supremely unconcerned, but there was a glint in her eyes he recognised quite easily. Greed. And not the kind he was used to seeing in people who frequented his shop to strike one of his infamous deals. It was different. It certainly felt different to him, hit him right beneath his gut in a way that felt both uncomfortable and pleasant. Without quite thinking his fingers went to the knot of his tie, already loosened, and tugged expertly, untying it in seconds. The silk made a soft, hissing sound as it slipped off his neck, which sounded loud in the otherwise dead silence of the room. Belle followed his movements avidly from the screen, and the look of utter absorption on her face gave him the surge of bravery he needed to tackle the buttons of his shirt till he could shimmy out of it. He was wearing a white undershirt beneath, but his arms and throat were bare, making him feel ridiculously exposed. 

“You have many layers. I like that about you.” Belle dropped her gaze, looking coy and vulnerable at the same time. “I like a lot of things about you.”

“Me too.” He tried to stop himself, but it was easier said than done. “Too many things, actually. But I’ve always understood that it would be foolish to expect anything to come of that.” He looked at Belle, draped over her chair and in her underwear. “Well, perhaps I was wrong.”

Belle smiled.

“You’re finally getting it. Good boy.”

He forced himself not to react visibly to those words, even though the moment he heard them it was like being struck by lightning. Thankfully the camera caught him from the waist up, hiding the embarrassing way his cock had perked up a second earlier. He could not hide his flushed face, however, or the way his eyes glazed over the slightest bit. 

“Tell you what. I’ll take off my bra if you lose the t-shirt. It’s a fair deal.”

It wasn’t. As far as he was concerned he was getting the far better end of the deal but he would never dream of telling her that. Tipping his hand was not his style. 

“Deal.”

He said it in the pleased, soft burr he usually reserved for his less savoury business arrangements, the kind that needed to be sealed in the cloak of night in some remote, deserted location. Belle shivered, and he enjoyed the thought that his voice made her react so. Feeling bold he grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked it off,      baring himself from the waist up. He saw and felt the librarian’s eyes roam over his torso. It wasn’t a pretty sight. He had scars from his dodgy upbringing in Glasgow, and some from his learning days restoring antiques. He was fond of the sun so at least he was not pasty white, or overly hairy, but he didn’t have much in the way of muscles. Belle, however, seemed to appreciate his more lean physique, if the heat of her gaze was any indication. After she seemed to have her fill of staring she leaned back and deftly unhooked her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms till the garment was on the floor. 

He stared. Couldn’t help himself really. Belle French’s tits were perfect. Fucking perfect. Just the right size, incredibly soft-looking and with the loveliest nipples he had ever seen, a rosy-pink that he would never be able to get out of his head. The kind of breasts that would ruin a man for other women. He certainly felt like no other breasts could ever tempt him again. 

“Royce, are you okay?”

Her voice sounded a delightful mix of amused and slightly worried, so he forced himself to nod, still unable to look away.

“Fucking perfect.”

Fuck, was that his voice? He sounded… dazed. He fought the instinct to slap some sense into himself. Belle draped herself across the back of the chair again, and though the position hid her breasts somewhat it didn’t do so completely. 

“I love how soft you are. Underneath the hardass pawnbroker exterior, I mean. Soft, and kind and funny. So funny. It’s one of your most attractive qualities.”

Most people wouldn’t think so. His brand of humour was dark, sometimes too much. And yet Belle always laughed, always caught on to his quips and seemed to appreciate them in a consporatory way. She could also dish it out, but in a far more subtle way that he was sure most people didn’t catch on to. Softly-spoken sarcasm delivered in a lilting accent. 

What was not to love?

He told her so. Unburdened himself completely, caught up in his own physical vulnerability and hers. It felt safe to tell her of his feelings, of how days where he knew he would see her were brighter, and how he liked when they shared a smile or exchanged a comment on a book. How his heart fluttered when he watched her read to the children, and how another part of his anatomy altogether reacted when she strutted around town with her short skirts and devil-may-care attitude. Liked how she thumbed her nose at the pearl-clutchers in town, doing things her way. Completely unsuited for boring, conventional small-town life, and yet wholly at home in Storybrooke, to the point where he could not imagine the town without her.

He shut up after that, noticing how she seemed to have changed, her mood going from loose and flirty to… anxious? No, that wasn’t the right word. Unsettled, perhaps.

“I can’t do this.” The sudden sentence felt like a slap in the face, but the moment his face dropped she seemed to backpedal. “No, no, not like that! I mean… I wanna touch you. I want to be in the same room. With even less clothes on. This… It suddenly doesn’t feel like enough.”

She was fucking right, he realised. He felt itchy all of a sudden. Unfulfilled. Empty.

“Come over.”

“What?”

Belle seemed genuinely surprised, but the way her skin flushed and her eyes got big let him know she was very open to the idea.

“Come the fuck over. It’s fucking cold anyway and the heating system at the library is shite at the moment. Come over and I’ll keep you warm, sweetheart.”

He was rather impressed with his blunt bit of bravery, born out of a consuming need more than anything, and even more impressed when it looked like it worked. Belle scrambled out of the chair, throwing a lovely little nightie on before getting her coat and scarf. 

“Be there in a few. See you!”

She disconnected before he could tell her to bundle up. It was fucking freezing outside and that nightie and her stockings and shoes would do nothing against the cold, coat or no coat. A moment later he realised he was sitting down in his pants, socks and shoes and nothing else while Belle fucking French was coming over to... 

Fuck.

He scrambled up, fishing for his cane in a hurry and having just enough presence of mind to disconnect from Zoom. He went upstairs to his room, deciding that it would be awkward for him to still be wearing pants. And socks. And shoes. So he chucked all that off, throwing a dressing gown over his boxers, pausing to put on his house slippers, glad beyond words he had recently bought new ones. After that he went downstairs to the kitchen and popped a bottle of champagne, looking into his pantry for the box of chocolate truffles from Kreuther, a treat he had gotten himself after visiting a state sale in Midtown Manhattan a week ago. He arranged the impromptu offerings on the dining room table, and when the bell rang he told himself he was ready. He opened the door, finding a rosy-cheeked and clearly shivering Belle on the other side, hair windswept, as if she had run there. Taking into account her heels it was rather impressive.

Belatedly he thought about the scene she had walked into. He in his dressing gown, with champagne flutes and truffles on the table and a fire roaring in the living-room, a scenario ripe for debauching. But perhaps she wished to talk more, to explore their emotional intimacy. Perhaps the trek there had killed her ardour and all she wanted and needed was to get warm and comfortable. He didn’t want to come off as… expecting anything.

Belle, however, seemed to not share his concerns. She took one look at him, one look at the softly-lit space behind him and the food laid out and smiled.

“You brilliant, wonderful man.”

A second late she was in his arms. Cold, but soft and smelling of orange blossoms and frost. She tilted her head up, slanting her lips across before he could blink and it was… wonderful. The coolness of her lips contrasted with the searing heat of her mouth, making for a rather delicious contrast of sensations. He used the hand not clutching his cane for dear life to find the buttons of her coat, undoing them one by one with barely-contained impatience. Finally he had the coat opened and could snake his arm around her waist. The silk of her small camisole was soft to the touch, and let him feel the warmth of her skin beneath.

He needed to feel more. Now that she was safe in the warmth of his house she didn’t need her coat or scarves and went about the business of removing both without separating himself from her. It took a lot of tugging and pulling and a couple of missteps that landed her up against the wall, to his utter delight, but she was finally rid of both. Her skin, despite the toasty temperature inside the house, was still chilly from the outside.

“Come close to the fire, sweetheart.”

They managed to stumble across the hallway and into the living room, where they seemed to come to the mutual conclusion that remaining standing was not conducive to their current situation. The rug near the fireplace, thankfully, was thick and soft, and the couple of throw blankets he quickly spread over it made it more so. Once he was satisfied she would be comfortable he let her tackle him to the ground, enjoying having her above him. She was small, especially once she wrestled her heeled boots off. A tiny slip of a woman, shorter than him even, but there was a presence to her, a strength, that he couldn't help but surrender to. Beautiful, terrifying Belle.

“I’ve dreamed of this.” Her voice was low, husky. “You weren’t wearing a dressing gown in my dreams, though.”

“And you weren’t wearing anything in mine.” His accent was so thick he feared she might not be able to understand me. “Tit for tat, dearie.”

She ground herself against him, causing him to hiss and arc. Enough pressure to elicit a response, but not nearly enough to satisfy him.

“Don’t call me that. That’s how you call everyone else, and I’m not everyone else, am I?”

Her confidence slipped for a second, exposing a hint of uncertainty that he was quick to dispel.

“No, sweetheart. Of course not.”

He untied the belt of his dressing gown, managing to slip it off while still pinned by Belle. He didn’t imagine it was a very sexy spectacle but she seemed to appreciate it nevertheless. To reward him she yanked her nightie off, revealing her glorious breasts once again to his hungry stare. She was absolutely perfect, made even better by the way the fire lit her skin and hair, and turned her eyes a deeper blue. She looked fierce yet soft, a magnanimous mistress looking down fondly at a favoured pet. Idly she traced a scar near his right shoulder with the tip of her index finger, frowning the slightest bit.

“I want to know the story behind this. I want to know… more. About you. All there is to know that you wish to tell me.”

“Yes.” Usually he’d balk at the idea of such intimacy, of being so bare. Yet it felt like something he could do with Belle, something he wanted to do. “Yes, of course, sweetheart. And I want to know everything about you.”

She smiled, the gesture slowly turning sultry as she crossed her elbows over his chest.

“We’ll talk… later.”

She kissed him then, slowly and thoroughly, sinking one hand into his hair so she could tilt his head just so. Her fingernails felt delicious against the sensitive skin of his scalp and were a welcome distraction from the uncomfortable pressure of her ass against his groin. He wanted to last, desperately, but she was every wet dream he’d ever had come true. He needed to redirect his attention to anywhere but his aching cock. So he forced himself to focus on anything else. The soft, silky feeling of her skin against the rough pads of his fingers, and the taste of her, faintly sweet. She kissed like it was an art, managing to somehow find every spot that made him want to rip her panties off and just bury himself in her, foreplay be damned.

He startled when he felt her hands trail down his body and grasp the elastic of his underwear, tugging on it to hint at what she wanted. He obliged her before he could talk himself out of it, raising his hips so she could slide the boxers off his legs while still kissing. He felt her touch his mangled ankle and forced himself not to flinch or pull back. Blessedly she seemed to notice his discomfort, tugging his boxers off completely and reaching out to place his hands on the sides of her hips, against the scratchy fabric of her underwear. The message was clear, especially when she propped herself against the floor with her hands so she could raise her hips. He gently tugged her pantied down, with slow, careful movements to avoid accidentally ripping the delicate lace and not simply to watch in aroused amusement as Belle fidgeted above him. 

“Patience, sweetheart.”

She whined, kicking her panties off when they reached her ankles and pushing him back a second later, her expression demanding.

“No more delays. We’ve had months of foreplay.”

He found himself agreeing with her. It certainly felt like they had been teasing each other for months, with the shared jokes, the furtive glances, bitten lips and coy smiles. Not that he had even dared dream of it before that night. Belle was too good in every way for a bitter old cripple like himself. Her hands on his cock chased his self-deprecation away, leaving his mind in a blissful state of blankness. Slowly, torturously so, she took him in, her hot, wet cunt enveloping him with the right amount of pressure. It was almost too good a feeling, leaving his nerve-endings too excited to register much else. She was fucking perfect, the feel of her the weight of her above him. Like she was made for him, only he wasn’t that lucky. 

He needed to somehow make it up to her, make it so good she would not regret it. So he focused on establishing a rhythm, steady enough to build up their pleasure, but not too perfect to make it boring. He concentrated on the sounds she made, the perfect little gasps and the occasional, shivery whine that let him know she was enjoying herself. Soon enough, however, coordination and any form of higher thinking went out the window, the pleasure getting to be too much to focus on anything else other than driving himself as deep into her as he possibly could. He had enough presence of mind to sneak a hand between their bodies, slipping it across her wet fold to stimulate her further, determined not to come before she did. When he finally felt it, the blissful fluttering of her inner walls accompanied by a triumphant cry, he let go of his last shreds of self-control, letting his body seek out its needed release, the feeling travelling up his spine and leaving his whole body boneless with satisfaction. 

He grunted when she practically fell on top of him, though he welcomed the reassuring weight of her and the heat from her body. He thought about the champagne and the truffles waiting for them on the dining room table and decided they could wait. As soon as he was able to move he would wrap his dressing gown around Belle and take her and the food and drinks to the bedroom, where they could recoup their energy and talk. And perhaps much later, if he was good, Belle would let him drink champagne from her navel. 

Thank Regina and her fucking Zoom twon halls. He would never complain about them again.