#she also offered to get me a fountain cup just in case but i said i was just gonna eat at home

[noramoons]

today was such a good day actually

[taelme]

Enemies-to-lovers!Changbin

request: Hiiiii I read you bangchan enemies to lovers au and I swear if I could like a post more than once I'd like that one a MILLION TIMES I'm wondering if maybe you could write an enemies to lovers au for changbin pretty please? 🥺🥰 genre: enemies-to-lovers!au (again, not Super extreme, low-key clash bc they’re both stubborn), film club president!Changbin, childhood penpal!au (fluff, very mild angst, they bicker a lot, kind of cheesy bc changbin’s a sap and we know that) pairing/s: Changbin / Reader (ft some skz members)  word count: 17k+ tw: mild coarse language (they say shit a lot LOL)  a/n: THE ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS...IM PRETTY SURE you waited months for this so thank you for being so so so patient!! I decided to try something a little different from my usual style but idk if it’s That Obvious, but its more structure wise I guess, but nonetheless, I'll be getting a little busier soon so I’m not sure If I'll be able to put out Full one shots for the next few months but I'll try my best w those little shorter ones maybe! (I'll have to see how Tired I am) also p.s I love this gif thank u to whoever made it but changbin is blonde in this fic bc of Personal Reasons 

To: my penpal Y/N

How are you?

I had a good day today. Sorry if the paper is crunchy I am writing this on my bed because my mom thinks I am already asleep. Today I went out with my mom and we went to the park and ate some sandwiches at the park. We had a picnic but with no juice because my sister finished everything. And then we went to the toy shop after lunch. I saw a keychain of a camera and bought it for you because you like acting and cameras can take a video of you acting.

This is a picture of me next to the wishing well at the park, you cannot see it but i’m making a peace sign. I threw a coin in the well and made a wish that your audition will be good. I know you will do very well because you practiced a lot for it. That’s all. I’m a bit tired now. Goodnight, or good morning if you are reading this in the morning. Or afternoon.

I hope i’ll be hearing from you soon, Binnie.  

“So, do you wanna keep them? If not I can chuck them together with the rest of your old things,” your mom began, already reaching over to take the letter from you.

Your eyes widened just as quickly, shaking your head quickly as you gripped the envelope and its contents behind your back away from her reach.

“No, no. Don’t throw them away,” you said sternly, softening your gaze when you noticed the way her eyebrows had raised in amusement, embarrassment washing over your features.

“I’ll keep them. Gimme the box.”

Your mom set the beaten looking converse shoebox down onto the table, shaking her head at you as a small chuckle escaped her. Mental note to transfer the letters to a smaller (and more durable) box. 

“Alright, alright,” she waved her hands at you in dismissal, “hurry up or you’ll be late for school.”

She shut the door behind her with a light thud, leaving you to stare at the grainy polaroid your childhood penpal had sent you when you both were only eight and still exchanging letters every week.

Inhaling deeply, you shoved the polaroid picture back into the envelope, slipping it into the box of envelopes before getting up. You figured that was a box you wouldn’t have the time to delve into when you were already keeping Jisung waiting.

Driving as fast as you could (or as fast as you dared to) within the speed limit, you’d reached your campus soon enough. It wasn’t that long of a drive and it would be even shorter (walking distance to be specific), when you move into your apartment nearer to campus in a few days. But that didn’t change the fact that you were running late now, spotting Jisung standing by the fountain with a sour look on his face that had only deepened once he’d spotted you.

Before an utterance of apology could leave you, Jisung had pursed his lips, stretching out his hand that held your cup of drink, a small hint of a smile playing at his lips.

“I’m starting to wonder which one of us has worse time management,” he sighed deeply, shaking his head with feigned disappointment as he glanced at his nonexistent watch on his wrist.

Jisung was one to talk, for sure. His crumpled looking shirt over baggy cargo pants and a hat to cover his head of messy hair told you his journey to school wasn’t exactly ‘leisurely’ either.

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink and sighing at the taste, “it’s definitely you. I was only late today ‘cause my mom was showing me my old stuff she found in the storeroom.”

Jisung waved you off, “fine, whatever,” he fished his phone out of his pocket as you started walking towards the auditorium for a class you were both dreading.

“Oh, shit, Hyunjin says the professor’s already in class, we should hurry up.”

Quickening your pace, you were glad to have reached before your professor had started, Jisung directing you towards where Hyunjin was seated at the side of the auditorium, giving him a small nod as you sat down.

Not that Hyunjin noticed anyway, the said boy busy with messaging someone on his phone with a frown on his face.

“What are you doing?”

Jisung peered over Hyunjin’s shoulder, frankly not wanting to focus on the lesson as the professor played a video on boring business things he figured he could just ask you for later.

Hyunjin sighed, setting his phone down onto the table and pushing his laptop open further, going to his email with quick clicks on his trackpad, “gotta send the scene for the auditions later to Changbin.”

“Oh, for that film thing?” Jisung asked, earning a nod from Hyunjin, whose eyebrows furrowed as they remembered your presence.

“Y/N should audition,” Hyunjin nodded his head towards you, his mention of your name distracting you momentarily, but you’d brushed it off quickly as you tried to take down whatever your professor was rambling on about.

At your lack of response, Jisung nudged your shoulder with more force, “hey, did you hear what Hyunjin said?”

You tore your gaze reluctantly from your professor as your fingers finished typing whatever you had left in your memory, the confused look on your face prompting Hyunjin to take over.

“We’re having auditions later for the movie the film club’s gonna be making,” he started, nodding slowly as his eyebrows raised, “I was saying you should join, you’d be good for the role.”

You narrowed your eyes at Hyunjin, “what’s it about?”

Jisung huffed, “some cheesy penpal shit, the last I heard.”

Your quirked an eyebrow at that, Hyunjin rolling his eyes.

“Something like that, but it’s not super romantic. They’re childhood penpals who meet again in the future but they don’t end up together, I don’t know how to explain it to you as well as Changbin can, but will you come anyway?”

You scrunch your nose as you consider his offer.

Was there anything you needed to prepare? You didn’t even know exactly what you were signing up for. Or much less anyone in the film club. Well, other than Hyunjin, of course.  

“Is there any script I'm supposed to prepare with?” you asked, making Hyunjin’s eyebrows raise, his lips parting in realisation.

“I’m pretty sure it depends on what role you want…” he trailed off, making you scoff.

Not being able to help the laugh from escaping you, you narrowed your eyes at him, “you sound like you’re not even in the club.”

Hyunjin flashed you a sweet smile, “you know what? I’ll just send you what I sent Changbin. You can just prepare with that! Penny’s role!”

Jisung snorted, his hand coming up in a poor attempt to stifle his giggles.

“Penny? Is it because...she’s a pen pal?”

You pressed your lips into a firm line, finding it awfully amusing as well.

Hyunjin frowned, scrunching his nose up in distaste, “we couldn’t think of anything better, okay?”

You huffed, lower lip jutting out in a small pensive pout. You didn’t have much going on in terms of school productions as of now, anyway, you guessed there would be no harm in showing some support for Hyunjin.

“What time are the auditions?”

“They start from lunchtime until like five,” Hyunjin tried his best to recall, looking at you with his best pleading gaze.

Sighing again, you nodded, “this is my only class for today.”

Hyunjin was practically beaming now.

“Perfect.”

===

“I don’t like it.”

Hyunjin sputtered over his sip of coffee, an incredulous expression on his face, attracting looks from the other film club members in the dance studio. Excusing himself, he’d made his way outside, oblivious to the squeals and stares the girls waiting to audition were directing towards him, settling himself in the middle of the field outside the dance studio.  

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t like it’?” he asked you again, his eyebrows furrowed as curiosity took over him.

You sighed, rolling your shoulders back as you nodded at one of your teachers you were walking past, your grip relaxing on your phone as your arm had started to get tired.

“I mean, I read through the script, and something about Penny’s character just doesn’t sit right with me,” you told him, “it just… doesn’t make sense for her to come to that conclusion when she’d been having a perfectly good time with the guy before that, you know?”

Pausing, you’d waited for him to respond, his silence prompting you to continue with your elaboration.

“Okay, I’ll put it this way,” you started, adjusting your grip on your laptop in your arm, “If I were a reader, or like, a viewer in this case, I would wanna be able to pick up on these small moments or signs that Penny is actually thinking about her relationship, do you know what I mean? Because now the way it looks is that she’s just a plot device meant to hurt him, and that there’s no exploration of the development of their relationship at all.”

Hyunjin let out a deep sigh, “Okay, I know, I know, but the thing is… this was Changbin’s idea, and I don’t know if you’ve heard—I mean, you probably have, but… nobody really questions him.”

You hummed, following Hyunjin into the school building and tugging your coat tighter around yourself, the cold air in the building shocking you as you entered.

“Yeah, I get that, but you’re forgetting that I don’t have the same relationship with this Changbin guy that you guys do. I don’t mind telling him that I have a problem with it. I don’t wanna be acting out some two-dimensional love interest character if I can help it.”

Hyunjin grimaced, not seeming to be too keen on your insistence, “I really think it might be a little late for him to change the script.”

“It’s never too late.”

“Well to Changbin it could be!” Hyunjin insisted, making you roll your eyes, a small chuckle leaving you.

You huffed, “I still think the audience deserves a better film with better crafted characters.”

Hyunjin let out a sound in between a sigh and a groan, “Okay fine, you just have to make sure you get the role, and then you’re free to argue with Changbin all you want. Deal?”

“Deal,” You turned the corner and spotted Hyunjin standing in the middle of the field, already making his way back to the dance studio.

“Okay,” he spoke before you could end the call, “I gotta go, see you later.”

You didn’t expect there to be so many people at the auditions, mostly girls and just a handful of guys. Though you seemed to piece the uneven ratio together when you saw the not-so-furtive stares the girls would cast in Hyunjin’s direction whenever he’d peek his head out from the crack in the door to call the next person in.

You recognized one of the guys who’d come in later than you, one of Jisung’s upperclassmen friends whose name was Minho.

“Didn’t think i’d see you here,” he gave you a small smile as he took a seat next to you.

Shrugging in response, you let out an awkward huff of laughter, not used to talking to him about anything other than his cats and Jisung’s whereabouts.

“Yeah… well, Hyunjin asked me to come, so I figured I might as well,” you fiddled with the slip of paper with the scene printed on it, “not like I had anything better to do, anyway.”

Minho nodded slowly, leaning closer to you and dropping his voice to a murmur, “I’ve never seen any of these girls before.”

You huffed, “I’m pretty sure most of them are here for Hyunjin.”

“Oh yeah, makes sense,” Minho hummed, a small lilt of amusement to his tone, “where is he, anyway? He told me he would be here—”

Minho’s question was answered when the girls beside the both of you had erupted into harsh whispers and murmurs, tapping each other excitedly as Hyunjin could be seen through the window panel in the door, looking on seriously as one of the girls inside the room was auditioning.

You huffed, gesturing to the window.

“Found him.”

Inside the room, Changbin was distracted.

He knew he had a certain image in his head about what he wanted ‘Penny’ to be. But whatever the girls that had auditioned so far had been showing, that dramatic ‘i never loved you!’ emotion, that wasn’t exactly it. And it didn’t help either that they struggled letting go of the dramatics when Chan would prompt them to try a different angle.

Hyunjin cast a (mildly concerned) look at Changbin, trying to gauge his expression, figuring the pointed look Changbin had sent his way was enough to say he didn’t think this girl would be shortlisted.

“Who’s next?” Chan leaned over in his seat to peek at the clipboard of names of signups, Changbin leaning back in his seat and pushing the clipboard towards him, not finding it in him to be able to be more hopeful about the next person.

“Oh, Y/N,” Chan hummed, nodding with an impressed expression on his face, the name catching Changbin’s attention, “that’s cool, didn’t think they’d audition.”

“Y/N?” Changbin echoed, something about the name awfully familiar to him, yet not being able to make the connection in his memories yet.

So for now, he’d simply gestured to Hyunjin to signal that he could send the next girl in, Chan sweetly thanking the girl that had just auditioned as she left the room.

Making your way into the room, you scanned the ‘panel’ of judges.

You recognized Chan, the said pale-faced boy looking even more tired when he’d yawned as you made your way to the centre of the room. He came to your school productions often since he and Felix were friends, and Felix was always involved in some way or another. The other boy, though, you didn’t think you’d seen before.

The two of them seemed to exude completely different auras, with Chan smiling warmly at you and gesturing for you to come closer while the other boy sat with his arms folded across his chest, frowning at you as though you were a code to decipher.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you here,” Chan broke the silence first, giggling.

You shook your head, “honestly didn’t think i’d sign-up either.”

You pressed your lips together in a tight-lipped smile, rocking back on your heels as you glanced at the boy next to him again, “I actually only heard about it from Hyunjin this morning,” you admitted, Hyunjin flashing Chan a grin from behind you as if to say ‘you’re welcome’.

Changbin cleared his throat, making Chan perk up.

“Right, sorry. So, we’ve obviously met but this is our club’s president Changbin,” he gestured to the boy sitting next to him.

Changbin nodded curtly, bringing his hand up to run it through his bleached hair and shoving his cap back on his head with habitual movements.

Now you were starting to understand why Hyunjin was so intimidated by Changbin, always having heard stories about him but only now being able to put a face to the name.

Nodding slowly, you gave him a smile, “nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.”

Changbin had to stop himself from faltering, his breath hitching when he realised why your name was so familiar.

After all, it had been the first candidate before they’d decided to go with ‘penny’. He wondered how cruel fate was to have brought you, someone with the same name as the person he’d practically based this story on, to be auditioning for the very role.

You tried not to be offended by the way Changbin had simply nodded at you, straightening up in his seat, “and you’ll be auditioning for the role of…?”

Would it hurt him to smile?

You inhaled deeply, trying to hide your amusement as you answered him, “Penny.”

Changbin nodded, Chan humming as he looked up from his copy of the script to give you another reassuring smile.

“Alright, whenever you’re ready. I’ll be taking the lines of the male lead,” Chan told you.

You understood that the scene was some sort of scene where the two romantic leads have some sort of confrontation, and you did your best to get into what you imagined Penny would be feeling, Chan reading the line asking if ‘penny’ had even loved him at all. Dramatic was the word to describe it, really.  

You softened your gaze, unintentionally letting it rest on Changbin but deciding to let it stay there, executing your lines all the while trying to ignore the way Changbin’s stare was unnerving you, making you want to prove to him that you were a good actor even though he hadn’t questioned your acting skills.

Hyunjin had been watching the exchange closely, Changbin’s grip on his pencil loosening as he’d let the pencil fall softly against the table.

Changbin wondered if it was some sort of coincidence, because whatever ‘it’ was that he’d been looking for in Penny’s character, you’d managed to convey almost perfectly.

And it was clear that Chan had felt the same way as well, since once your audition was over, the smile on Chan’s face was nothing but beaming.

Once you’d left the room, Hyunjin telling you that they would contact you by the next morning, Chan had turned to Changbin, the same stupid smile on his face.

“That was great!” he nudged Changbin, the younger boy still recovering from the shock of the coincidence of it all, managing to muster a small huff in response.

“Yeah,” Changbin reached over to grab his water bottle, prolonging his silence as he took a long sip, “I don’t think we’d even need to see the rest.”

Chris scrunched his nose up, grinning, “but you know we still will, of course. Just in case.”

Changbin sighed, glancing at the clock, agreeing with Chan even though he knew he’d already had his mind made up.

“Yeah, just in case,” Changbin mumbled, looking out the window and seeing you talk to Minho, tearing his gaze away and rolling his shoulders back.

“Okay, send the next one in.”

===

To: Binnie

How are you?

I’m okay. I like the picture you sent me of you using your scooter. My mom says you look nice. I think so too.

Today I went to the museum and I ate an ice cream for lunch. I don’t have a picture of it but it was a Strawberry ice cream.

I just finished reading your letter. Sorry to say it using a bad word, but i think what your sister did was stupid. I think you should still tell her to ask for permission to use your scooter. But if she still does not listen, maybe you should tell her again. Because my mom always tells me that if I want something, I have to ask for it. So you should do that. Maybe she does not know you don’t like it when she plays with your scooter. Or, you could buy a new scooter. Here is some money so you can buy a scooter. I drew you $50 because that is a lot of money. I hope you have a good day when you read this.

Till next time, Your penpal Y/N.

You weren’t the world’s kindest human alive, you had your petty moments. I mean, there were so many songs and literature and movies that highlighted that idea that no human was perfect, right? But you tried your best, surely.

So, you’d gladly complied when Hyunjin asked you to grab extra cups of coffee for Chan and Changbin (as reluctant as you were. You were strapped for cash as it was).

You figured that was the least you could do before the trouble you were about to cause the both of them. But hopefully, if office etiquette was anything to go by, the simple gesture would show that you were kind, and someone who appreciated the offer given to you, as much as you hated the superficiality of your character.

However, when you showed up at the room, you were reminded that Changbin wasn’t just anyone. And while Chan made his appreciation known, Changbin… was the same as ever. Intimidating, and very hard to read. The sight of it almost made you want to take back his coffee.

He wasn’t wearing a hat today. Instead, he’d let his blonde hair (which looked darker since the last time you saw him, or maybe it was just his dyed-black undercut) fall messily over his forehead in a slight side part.

His black shirt did nothing to hide his physique, every movement of his coming across as a subtle flex, making you have to remind yourself time and time again that you weren’t exactly here to fawn over him.

He would lean back in his seat, scrolling through whatever he was looking at in his phone with one hand, his other hand draped over his stomach and propped underneath his elbow to support it. The way he would look made it seem as if he was almost oblivious to the world around him, only paying attention to what was on his phone until he would laugh at something Chan said, Chan being the only person you’ve seen that managed to elicit seemingly uncharacteristic giggles from him.

Though it wasn’t as if you were given much time to get used to it. The moment Chan had murmured something in his ear, his expression had switched back to ‘strictly business’.

Chan straightened up, looking around the room with his eyebrows slightly raised in question, one hand adjusting the braided leather bracelet around his wrist

“So, shall we get started then?” Chan asked, gesturing to Changbin before typing away at his laptop.

Changbin took his cue, getting up from his seat and making his way around the table to the front of the room, pulling the overhanging screen up to reveal the whiteboard.

“So, first of all, we’ve finalised the actors playing the characters,” he gestured towards you and Minho, “Minho as Soobin and Y/N as Penny. So, we can start shooting about next week. I would say we’re working with a pretty loose deadline because we don’t have to submit it until a few months from now.”

Changbin rolled his shoulders back, his body language seeming fairly relaxed although his expression remained serious nonetheless, “but that doesn’t mean we should slack, obviously.”

His statement elicited a small groan from Hyunjin, who muttered a ‘figures’ under his breath, making you stifle your giggles for Changbin’s sake.

“But we will start with maybe going over the script once through, go over the technical stuff after we get any issues with the flow out of the way.”

He looked as though he were going through a mental list of things to cover, his gaze flickering momentarily to Hyunjin, as if his face would give him answers to the invisible question in his head.

“The people in charge of the props, have you started preparing the letters?” Chan stepped in, earning a shake of the head from the two girls sitting next to Hyunjin, making Changbin wave a hand dismissively in their direction.

“They could start on that after we confirm the script,” Changbin leaned over the table to grab his cup of coffee, proceeding to take a long sip from it.

“Alright, let’s start then.”

Changbin took the empty seat he was standing next to, pulling his laptop closer to him to pull up the script.

Throughout the reading, you tried to keep your comments to yourself, you really did. It just fascinated you how fearful the team was of Changbin (well, aside from Chan), the way everyone seemed to bite their tongues or withhold their comments caused a permanent frown to be etched on your face.

It didn’t make it any better that Minho seemed to have no problems with the script, not even when you’d occasionally leant over to whisper to him and ask if he found that part a little weird or a little abrupt. But you held your tongue for now, (and also because of the side glance Hyunjin would cast your way whenever you would let out a small sigh),  you wanted to give Changbin the benefit of the doubt, figuring maybe if he read through his script again he’d realise how one-sided it was.

But thankfully, when you were reading out the lines where the two main characters had ended their date, and on a particularly high note for that matter, it seemed the opportunity to voice your concerns about the script was presented to you when Changbin had spoken up.

“Okay, since the next scene onwards will be where their relationship breaks down, any questions so far?” He asked, though his tone didn’t sound like he was really asking for feedback. But, hey, an opportunity as an opportunity, wasn’t it?

You cleared your throat a little too harshly, raising up your hand as you leaned against the table to be seen better, “uh, actually, me? I mean, I have some feedback actually.”

Changbin looked at you curiously, his gaze landing on you with slight surprise, as if he hadn’t expected it to be you of all people. There was a slight hesitancy evident in the way he paused before giving you a short nod, prompting you to go ahead.

You smiled, ignoring the way Hyunjin had sighed deeply a few seats away from you, dreading the chaos that could have come with people like you and Changbin bumping heads.

“Well, it’s not really specific to this scene. It’s kind of about the whole flow of the plot in general…” you fiddled with the corner of the page you were on, “but I was thinking it would be better to show more of Penny’s point of view? You know, because when I was reading it it just felt a little… weird for them to suddenly break up if everything seemed to be going fine.”

Changbin narrowed his eyes at you, looking back down at his computer with a simple dismissive shake of the head, “That’s not necessary, they’re going to break up anyway.”

The room had fallen silent, everybody seeming to have taken that as a ‘end of the conversation’ kind of line, already beginning to bring their attention to the next scene.

You frowned, unable to control your expression as you made your dismay obvious, casting a desperate look to Hyunjin who honestly looked as though he would pay you not to pursue this.

“But that’s not the point,” you spoke, getting Chan’s attention as he looked at you, silently urging you to continue, “you wanted to show their relationship, right? So, shouldn’t you show… both their parts in the relationship? Since it’s not like this is told in Soobin’s point of view.”

Changbin pursed his lips, “the point is,” he brought his cup of coffee to his lips, taking a small sip before continuing, “their relationship was superficial so it doesn’t matter.”

You mirrored his expression. The way it sounded was that he was just trying to convince himself that it didn’t matter.

Your frown deepened, quick to respond to him.

“That’s the thing, if you’re so insistent on them breaking up, why don’t you just make their relationship lead up to that? The way they’re interacting up to this scene makes viewers think they’re just going to end up together,” you tried to reason, hoping Changbin would understand where you were coming from.

Minho took that opportunity to excuse himself to the bathroom, and as you gave the rest of the film club members a once-over, you hated the way they were all looking at you as if you were cussing Changbin out instead of just giving him constructive feedback, or just voicing your thoughts for that matter.

“Well, not everyone gets a happy ending, I guess.”

He was practically avoiding your message at this point, making you grow more frustrated.

“Okay, look, what’s your intention behind making this film?” you asked, watching carefully as Changbin huffed, looking fairly amused at your insistence, which only served to irk you more.

“Simple,” he shrugged, “to show people like you that not everything that seems so perfect ends up perfect in the end.”

Your lips parted, scoffing, resisting the urge to get up from your seat as you heard Minho re-enter the room.

“People like me?” you echoed spitefully, “okay, fine, whatever. But as you said, if that’s the point of your discourse, shouldn’t your message be to tell people that they can work through things like this instead of just giving up and leaving like Penny did?”

Changbin was annoyed now. To him, you seemed too idealistic to understand his reasoning behind the story. He wondered why it had to be you that was telling him this, you were the only one that was trying to find problems with his story, that he’d based on his own life for that matter.

“Well what if she did, huh? What if Penny did just up and leave with no warning?”

You rolled your eyes, hearing Chan struggle to stifle his laugh, your exchange with Changbin being just about the most excitement he had in the whole school year.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, “which is why I'm saying that your job as a storyteller is to shed some light on the reason behind that. Then your story wouldn’t be about showing how things don’t turn out the way they seem, it would just be telling you, but not showing you. You could just ask literally anybody to hurt Minho—”

“Soobin,” you heard Minho correct from beside you, making you huff, scrunching your eyes shut tightly before opening them harshly.

“—Yes, Soobin’s character, and it would be the same? The story wouldn’t show me anything other than the fact that it was Soobin’s fault he ended up that way. He didn’t question anything that happened, he just let it happen to him,” you sighed again, clenching your jaw, “Penny isn’t anything other than some 2-dimensional plot device designed as an excuse for Soobin to sulk about how cruel love is.”

Changbin scrunched his nose up, his brows knitting in annoyance as he stared at you, a silence falling again in the room. Changbin was about to interject when Chan had decided that would be a good time to step in.

“C’mon guys, let’s… calm down a little. We’re talking about penpals here, not the king’s lover betraying him.”

You cast Chan a questioning look at his example, making him shrug, continuing, “we’re running a little overtime anyway, we can just continue discussing this another time.”

Just like that, the rest of the film club members seemed eager to leave, either rushing for their next class or just not wanting to be in the same environment as an irritable Changbin.

Chan directed his gaze towards you as you were getting up from your seat, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“I’m sure Changbin will keep your points in mind, don’t worry,” he reassured you just as Changbin chimed in with a ‘no, I won’t’ behind him, leaving the room promptly afterwards, leaving you free to let out the frustrated groan you had been withholding.

“Thanks, Chan. Sorry I kind of made you guys overrun your time,” you sighed, watching Hyunjin making his way to you with wide eyes.

Chan shook his head, holding his laptop securely in one arm as he let out a burst of giggles.

“No, don’t apologize! I should be thanking you, I didn’t think about your point until you mentioned it just now,” he murmured, “but again, sorry about Changbin. He’s just a little��� protective of his work.”

Hyunjin let out a low whistle from next to you, “Extremely.”

You nodded, shrugging, “It’s alright, I get it.”

Chan flashed you a smile, his hand reaching out to give your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “Thanks, again. See you around.”

Leaving the room with Hyunjin, you ignored the way he’d begun to chuckle to himself, “honestly, in this whole time i’ve been in the film club, i’ve never seen Changbin actually… argue with someone.”

You rolled your eyes, kicking at the stray pebble “well if he continues like this, you’re gonna be seeing a lot more of it.”

“You sure seemed like you were having fun, though, weren’t you?” Hyunjin was being sarcastic, knowing he was just doing this to dissuade you, his tone eliciting a scoff from you.  

You shook your head.

“You know for a fact I wasn’t. But it wouldn’t sit right with me if I just kept my mouth shut like you and the rest of your film club goons,” you shot him a pointed glare.

Hyunjin pressed his lips into a firm line, holding his hands up beside his head in surrender, prompting you to continue.

“If I want something done, I’m gonna ask for it. It’s as simple as that.”

===

To: my penpal Y/N

How are you?

Was your audition good? Thank you for the money. But $50 is a lot of money so I don’t think I should spend everything, my mom says I need to save money. Thank you for telling me what I should do, but in the end I didn’t buy another scooter. I did this because we were learning about needs vs wants in school and I think the scooter is a want. My teacher says this means I don’t really need it. But needs are things like colour pencils and pens and paper so I can write letters to send you. Maybe your mom tells you you cannot buy so many stickers because the stickers are a want and not a need.

Anyway, I think I can just let my sister take my scooter. Maybe I will just get another scooter for myself when I am older and I have more money.

I hope I will be hearing from you soon, Binnie.

As you said before, you weren’t perfect, but you surely did your best. But days like this you wondered if people like Changbin even tried.

After your interaction with said stubborn being during your meeting with the film club had put you in a bad mood, you were currently seated with Jisung in a booth at a popular burger outlet outside school, thankfully having managed to get a place in the midst of the anxious afternoon crowd. And even more thankful that you could eat your lunch in peace where you were very much away from Changbin.

“What did you say to him, again?” Jisung hadn’t bothered trying to hold in his laughter as he was almost shouting over the noise of the crowd, making you huff as you bit into your burger.

“I said it’s funny that he was talking so much shit about the main couple when he’s dedicating his entire movie to them,” you drawled, your annoyance returning as you recounted the spat you had with him during the small meeting you had with the film club just before lunch.

Jisung’s shoulders shook as he laughed, fumbling with his drink as his eyes shut tightly, giggles leaving him and seeming as though they would never end, “and that’s what you said word for word?”

You nodded, reaching over to press the lid of Jisung’s drink down firmer before he could spill it all over himself.

“I know you’re friends with him but I really don’t know how you work with this guy, he’s as stubborn as stubborn goes,” you huffed, taking another bite into your burger as Jisung’s laughter had died down, though his smile had only lingered.

“You’re worse,” he snickered, earning a glare from you.

Jisung remained unaffected, “Look, he’s honestly fine once you get to know him,” he tried to reason, sounding as though he were trying to convince a child to make friends, “I mean, we’re all still kind of wary around him when he’s in a mood but honestly, if not for the way you guys met, I’m pretty sure you two would get along well. He seems like he’s your type.”

Your eyes widened, scandalised at Jisung’s implication.  

“The only thing he has in common with my exes is being annoying, okay?” you rushed to push away the curiosity of what Changbin would be like as a boyfriend. Curse Jisung and his stupid implication.

“And plus,” you continued, hearing the doorbell chime for what sounded like the thousandth time to signal yet another entry into the diner that was now overflowing with people asking for take-out, “it’s not like he’s been very nice to me since I got involved with his stupid short film.”

Jisung sighed, his gaze momentarily distracted by something behind you, making you wave your hand in front of his face to keep his attention. He’d glanced back at you, an almost dazed look in his eyes before he’d given you a small smile, taking a bite out of his burger and not waiting to finish chewing before he answered you.

“I honestly think that he just needs a little more persuasion. Like, take this for example, something similar happened with him and Chan when they were composing something in the past, and trust me, if you don’t give up now, i’m pretty sure he’d agree to come to a compromise or something,” he gave you a shrug, his gaze returning to whatever was behind you (probably someone cute, you figured). You couldn’t say you blamed him; almost all your conversations revolved around you and Changbin’s squabbles these days.

You pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes at him, “you really think he’d be willing to rewrite his script?”

Your tone was skeptical, already imagining how Changbin would simply tell you to keep dreaming if you’d brought up the proposal to him.

At Jisung’s lack of response, you’d frowned slightly, seeing him turn back to you calmly as his smile widened, giving you yet another shrug.

“Maybe you can ask him yourself.”

If there was any feeling one would get just before something bad was about to happen, that was definitely what you were feeling now.

You didn’t dare to tear your gaze away from Jisung as you watched him turn his body, his hand coming up in a wave that had only turned into a hi-five, his behaviour only adequately described as boisterous as he welcomed the people you were hoping you wouldn’t have to see for another week until the next film club meeting.

Well, Chan was fine, you were simply referring to Changbin.

“Oh, hey, Y/N! Didn’t know you and Jisung were friends,” Chan gave you a sweet smile, gesturing between you and Jisung as he spoke.

Jisung chimed in with a nonchalant “Best friends, actually,” which had only made you shoot him a glare.

“Might have to re-evaluate that,” you muttered, turning back to Chan and Changbin to give them as warm a smile as you could muster.

“Are you guys eating here too?” you asked.

You were oblivious to the way Changbin’s gaze flickered from your face to the food in your hand, and then back to Jisung, looking perfectly unaffected as he joked with Jisung about something you didn’t quite catch.

“Well, we wanted to, but, you know, with the crowd and all we probably won’t be able to get a seat,” Chan’s gaze was pitiful, to say the least, making Jisung raise his eyebrows, and that sinking feeling within you had only intensified as his next sentence left his lips.

Jisung had barely glanced at you as he held onto Changbin’s hand.

“Well, our booth’s actually meant to seat four people, so you guys could squeeze in if you want,” he offered.

Changbin quirked his eyebrow, skepticism written all over his features, though mostly directed towards you, “you guys really won’t mind?”

You glared at your burger, scrunching your nose up as you avoided Changbin’s pointed gaze.

Jisung scoffed, giving Changbin a loud smack on the arm, “of course we won’t, right Y/N?”

He turned to you, giving you a smile you could only describe to be devious (and fairly amused).

“Yeah,” your voice took a pitch higher unintentionally, “go ahead,” you murmured, scooting into the booth to make space for them.

You took another bite from your burger, watching out of the corner of your eye as Changbin took a seat next to Jisung, Chan excusing himself to retrieve both their orders.

“Funny that you showed up, actually. Y/N and I were just talking about your short film,” Jisung spoke, earning a pointed glare for you, as if daring him to continue (and you should’ve known that wasn’t going to faze him at all).

“Oh, were you?” Changbin drawled, his eyebrows raised and a slight smile playing at his lips, “I’m sure Y/N had a lot to say about that.”

As you were about to speak, Jisung had interjected with a little giggle, “she did.”

Changbin didn’t seem to take Jisung’s comment as an answer, simply keeping his gaze fixed on you, prompting you to produce an answer of your own. You ignored the knowing look Jisung gave you.

You sighed, “maybe I wouldn’t, if someone just took my suggestions.”

Changbin had let out a small huff at that, leaning back in his seat with his arms folded over his chest as Chan returned to the table with his and Changbin’s food, casting curious glances between the three of you seated at the table.

“Hope you guys didn’t fight while I was gone,” he joked, making you sigh, and you missed the pointed look he cast Changbin’s way when the boy had scoffed, “what were you guys talking about before I came?”

You shrugged.

“We were talking about the short film,” you told him, “kind of.”

Chan had perked up at that, turning to you as he handed Changbin his food, “oh yeah, I wanted to ask if you had more feedback about the scenes.”

You nodded, “I do, actually.”

Changbin’s gaze lifted from his burger to look at you as he sighed, “what is it now?”

You huffed, “It’s not that bad. I was just wondering if the content of the letters were gonna be read out during the scene? ‘Cause if it is, then maybe we could kind of make it a little more relevant to their personalities or something.”

“Will that be hard? What do kids even talk about in their letters?” Jisung laughed.

Changbin’s lips parted slightly before pressing them into a firm line.

“Well, they’ll be like 9 when they’re exchanging letters, I suppose, so I guess they’d at least know how to have a conversation… ” He sounded almost hesitant, making you wonder why he made talking about childhood penpals seem like such a complex thing.

You thought about your own penpal, Binnie. You were about that age when you were exchanging letters with him too, figuring you could give some insight on that until Jisung had intercepted.

“At that age all I did was talk about hot wheels, to be honest. Much less talk to girls,” he snorted, making you scoff, using your shoe to nudge his leg under the table.

Chan, who had been silently thinking, had straightened up abruptly.

“Wait,” Chan’s eyebrows lowered, frowning slightly as his lower lip jut out in a slight pout. He directed his attention to Changbin, pointing his index finger towards him, “didn’t you used to have a penpal?”

You had to stop yourself from making your shock too obvious, your eyes widening as your gaze became nothing but accusatory. How badly did his penpal experience go for him to be so cynical about it now?

Whatever it was, the newfound information made you curious as to exactly how much of the story he’d changed, more importantly, how much he’d retained.

“You?” you couldn’t help yourself from blurting, though Changbin remained unamused.

“Yeah, I did,” he bypassed your incredulous stare, answering Chan simply.

Jisung hummed, bringing one hand up to fiddle with his ear piercing, not having expected Changbin’s response.

“Oh, well, what was it like, then?”

Changbin shrugged, resting one of his forearms on the table to support himself, his other hand reaching down to pick up a fry, “was nice. We would exchange letters every week. Talked about a lot of things, sent each other pictures, you know, all that stuff.”

“Do you still keep in contact with them?” Chan asked, genuine curiosity in his voice, not having heard much from Changbin about this penpal in the entire duration of their friendship.

Changbin shook his head, “nope,” he popped the p, picking up his cup to swirl it around noisily, the ice rumbling as it got tossed around in the paper cup, proceeding to take a sip from it as the rest of you looked on curiously at him.

“Well, why not?” you dared to ask, a million different possible reasons running through your mind.

Maybe they did something to piss Changbin off, or maybe they got into a big fight (which also made you wonder how heated fights could get over snail mail), or maybe one of their parents disapproved of the other. The possibilities were endless as you anticipated just why 8 year old Changbin would’ve cut ties with his penpal. And maybe, you were enjoying the dramatic aspect of it a little more than you should’ve been.

But something about the way he replied felt restrained. Maybe you were reading into it too much, but he almost sounded evasive. But, of course, you chose to ignore (suppress) it for now, watching intently as Changbin had once again shrugged, an air of nonchalance to his gestures as he met your gaze.

“Just… grew out of it, I guess.”

You huffed, memories of your own penpal making his response sting.

You don’t think you ever ‘grew out’ of talking to binnie. You remembered how frustrated you were when you’d stopped hearing from him after he moved, and every letter you’d sent to his new address had only been returned back to you. Maybe he grew out of it, but you wouldn’t have left it like that if you had a choice.

You rolled your eyes at his response, something in your response seeming to have irked Changbin.

“What?” he snapped, making you hesitate just the slightest bit, deciding to bite your tongue and shake your head.

“Nothing.”  

Chan let out a huff of laughter through his nose next to you, shaking his head at you goodnaturedly.

“Forgive us, you always seem like you have something more to say,” Chan spoke, apparent ‘damage control’ for Changbin’s abrasiveness.

“Wait, so, you’re really not gonna have a happy ending?” Jisung frowned.

“Well, Changbin and I were talking about it after the meeting that day, we figured since we have time we could afford to change the script a little,” he hummed, turning to you, “you know, since it could be a chance to kind of send a more hopeful message like you were talking about.”

Your eyes widened, your hand almost reaching out to touch Chan’s arm but realising you were still holding your burger, “really? You’re open to changing it?”

Changbin’s gaze flickered momentarily to you, observing your posture, noticing how open and comfortable you seemed with Chan, the sight alone enough to make him scoff. Call him a cynic, but he couldn’t tell if this was you acting or not just to get your way.

“There could be another meeting for you to discuss and work on the script together, but yeah, we’re alright with changing it.”

You turned to Changbin, a hint of distrust in your stare, making him huff again, putting down his drink on the table with a little too much force.

“He said it, not me,” he told you, pressing his lips firmly into a tight line, “you wanna change my script so badly? Fine. But your ideas better be worth changing it for.”

Jisung scrunched up his nose as you turned back to Chan, not wishing to look at Changbin’s face any longer, leaning over to whisper to Changbin, “you two don’t like each other very much, do you?”

If he was caught off guard by Jisung’s statement, he didn’t show it.

Changbin shrugged, picking his drink back up, “they started it.”

At the sound of his accusation, your eyes narrowed, turning to glare at Changbin, thankful for Jisung nudging you under the table before you could retaliate with a comment of your own. Chan simply casting you an amused look, his eyebrows raised in a silent question of what you were about to do.

You shook your head.

Whatever, you pushed your annoyance away in your head, as long as Chan was there during the rewrite meeting, you’d hopefully still be able to maintain your sanity.

Or at least, that was the hope that you were holding on to until that night when you’d gotten a text from Chan.

Chan 11:17pm - hey, i gave changbin your number if you don't mind... you know, since you guys have to discuss to rewrite the script and all -

You’d almost sat up from your bed in shock, frowning against the harsh light coming from your phone and the contents of the text, the latter obviously making you more disgruntled.

11:17pm - won’t you be discussing with us?? Why not just make a group chat??? -

Your heart was pumping with anxiousness as you awaited his reply, something about the sound of the clock ticking putting you in an even more anxious state, your heart almost sinking as texts from him and Changbin had come in at the same time.

You looked at Chan’s first.

Chan 11:18pm - oh i didn’t tell you? All script writing is done by Changbin. I’m just in charge of the other elements like props and directing and whatnot -

You shut your eyes, suddenly wishing you could travel back a few seconds back in time and not have checked your phone when Chan had texted you. Bringing your fingers across your screen reluctantly as you typed a reply to him.

11:18pm - ohhh hahaha right i forgot, thanks chan -

Now for the bigger menace at hand. You swiped over to Changbin’s message, your finger lingering on his chat as you decided to stop being petty and just open it.

seo changbin 11:18pm - just so you know, i’m doing this only because Chan asked me to. we can go over the changes at my house. is saturday okay with you? -

You pulled your notifications bar down. Tomorrow was Friday, and from what you knew you were pretty much free on Saturday. Fortunately or unfortunately for you.

You took another deep breath as you typed out your reply to him. For your own sanity, you tried to ignore the way he felt the need to clarify that he wasn’t doing it for your sake.

11:18pm - saturday’s fine. What time?-

Resisting the urge to go offline when you saw him come online, you felt as though you were in some sort of staring contest through your phone as you watched him type, his message coming in quickly.

seo changbin 11:18pm -1? We could order in and discuss -

You sighed, it wasn’t enough that he had to take away one peaceful lunch from you today, but yet another one on Saturday.

11:19pm -okay text me your address-

Another sigh left you when you read that the address he’d sent you was just a few blocks away from your apartment. Maybe he lived alone too; most of the apartments here were occupied by college students looking for affordable rent and shorter travel time.

seo changbin 11:19pm - don't be late -

You scoffed, shoving your phone back onto your bedside table as you slumped back against your pillow, burying your head into your pillow and kicking at your blanket that covered your feet uncomfortably.

Fine, if he wanted to be that way, that was fine by you. You would just do this for the sake of the short film. Yeah. That’s all it would be.

===

“Let’s make this quick and painless for the both of us,” you blurted the moment Changbin had opened his door to let you in, glad to see he was donning an outfit similar to yours (sweatpants and a t-shirt), your previous worries of being underdressed dissipating instantly.

He let out a sigh, his hand coming up to run it through his hair, his hair messy and sticking up at one place awkwardly, looking as though he’d slept on that side for too long.

“Hello to you too,” he grumbled, shutting the door behind you as he gestured to the living room.

You glanced around his rather plain apartment as he led you to the living room, his laptop resting on one of the cushions of the sofa, soft music verberating from the device.

“What food do you want?” he asked, earning a thoughtful frown from you as you set your things down on the floor next to the sofa, taking a seat on the other side of it.

“Fastest delivery would be if we order from that Chinese food place nearby, right?”

Changbin’s eyebrows quirked up in intrigue, “I was thinking of that place too,” he handed you his phone, letting you order what you wanted before handing it back to him.

It was otherwise silent between the both of you as you waited for the food to arrive, neither of you quite knowing how to break the silence. The tension slowly made you grow increasingly fidgety as time passed.

Changbin had sat down on the floor next to the coffee table, resting one hand on his soft rug as he pushed a stack of papers towards you, drawing your attention away from your soft copy of the script on your phone as you realised it was a hard copy of the script.

“Just use this, i’ve got a copy on my laptop,” he mumbled, making you nod, accepting it from him as you flipped to where you left off.

Changbin glanced at the clock, in disbelief that only 10 minutes had passed and yet he found himself feeling jittery at your silence. Turning his gaze towards you, he let out a small sigh.

He had expected you to say something by now, or let out some snarky comment about something he wrote. Your silence was unnerving him, it was almost as if he wanted you to say something, especially with the way you were scribbling notes beside the pages with a mechanical pencil he didn’t even recall seeing you take out.

“Which scene are you at?” he blurted, his anxiousness getting the better of him, making your head shoot up abruptly, surprised at his sudden outburst.

“Uh,” you glanced back down at the page, “I’m at the part where they find out they used to be penpals,” you told him.

“Okay,” Changbin murmured, thinking about where to go from there, momentarily distracted when he’d heard the doorbell ring. Pausing, he’d stepped out momentarily to retrieve your food, the rustling of bags getting louder as he neared the table.

Setting the food down on the table, surprising you when he’d pushed the food towards you, your surprise hadn’t gone unnoticed by Changbin.

“What?” he scoffed.

You shrugged, “nothing, just didn’t know you were capable of doing nice things,” you told him, a sarcastic lilt to your tone.

Changbin inhaled deeply, shooting you a patronizing smile as he broke his chopsticks, “anyway, I think we could start from there, since that’s kind of the turning point of their relationship.”

You nodded, pulling your food towards you as you began to eat.

“I was thinking,” you spoke, pausing to chew on your food, “this part has a lot of unanswered questions, like… I wouldn’t just let it go so easily if I found out someone was my penpal that I grew apart from. I felt like they should’ve had a bit more of a confrontation there.”

Changbin hummed, shocking you when he’d leant closer to you to look at the script, making you push it towards him, a small huff leaving him at your action.

“What questions do you think Penny would ask, then?” he asked you.

“I don’t know, maybe why they stopped talking in the first place?” there was a hint of sarcasm in your tone, making Changbin look at you over his mouthful of noodles.

“I told you already, Soobin grew out of it—”

You grimaced at his answer, your chopsticks halting before your mouth momentarily before you shovelled your noodles in with annoyance, “I don’t believe that.”

“I used to have a penpal, and I can guarantee you, the reason why we stopped talking wasn’t because we ‘grew out of it’,” you told him pointedly, having to stop yourself from growing too riled up about it, Changbin tensing up at your revelation.

Bringing his glass of water to his lips, he let his gaze wander around everything but you as he thought, curious as to what your penpal experience was like. Finally meeting your gaze, he almost sputtered over his water with how much he wasn’t paying attention to his actions, the only thing on his mind being to get his words out.

“You did?” It was pathetic, really, that that was all he’d come up with after such a long pause.

You nodded.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter, the story isn’t based on my penpal, it’s based on yours,” you attempted to draw the attention away from you, unsettling feelings of sourness building within you at the thought of how you left things.

“So, think. What would you be curious about?” you prompted him, seeing him purse his lips, a certain dazed look tinting his gaze.

Swallowing his mouthful of food, he looked at you as he thought. He would want to know if they were still passionate about acting, he would want to know how their family was doing, he would want to know if their personality had changed, if they were still the assertive ‘go after what you want’ character that had encouraged him so much. Or maybe, just how they are.

Changbin’s lips parted, shaking his head slowly, “... so many things,” he murmured.

An unexpected tension fell between the both of you, Changbin’s eyes meeting yours with a sort of unspeakable thoughtfulness, as if he was still thinking about your question.

You broke eye contact first, “write that, then. Who knows? Maybe they’re both as curious as the other.”

“You’re one of those glass half full people, aren’t you?” he huffed, making you click your tongue in annoyance.

“And what? You have no glass at all?” you retorted.

“Would you still be… curious too? Even If it didn’t end well?” he asked suddenly, a stupid question, Changbin thought, but still something he felt compelled to ask in the moment, as if he wanted the confirmation that you, someone with a penpal experience as well had shared the same sentiments as him.

You nodded, “of course I’d be. I could hate you and still be curious about you,” you shrugged.

“Me?” Changbin asked, making your eyes widen, the tension dissipating slightly as you shook your head vigorously, your hands coming up to wave at him dismissively.

“No no, not you. I meant-” you stopped yourself, glaring at him, “I just meant it as an example.”

And for what you were sure was the first time, Changbin had laughed, beginning to feel a bit more comfortable around you, his eyes forming narrow slits and the apples of his cheeks rounding slightly as he grinned, soft breathy giggles leaving him.

“Alright, I get it. It’s not a secret that you don’t like me.”

You huffed, not being able to help but feel the need to reassure him, “you’re not… that bad I guess. Jisung talks you up all the time.” you said, unsure why you felt the need to reassure him that you didn’t have a burning hatred for him, “you’re just stubborn as hell.”

He scoffed, “I could say the same about you.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, reaching over to flip the page, “glad to know we’re on the same page, then.”

“Now that you said it,” Changbin began, moving on quickly from your bickering as he shoved his empty food packaging aside, “I do think Soobin would be curious about the things they talked about in their letters.”

You perked up at that, eyebrows raising, “That reminded me, I actually still have some of the letters from my penpal when we were younger, if you want I can loan them to you for some inspiration or something.”

Changbin nodded, flipping over to another page before pausing to type something on his computer, “yeah, actually that would be useful.”

You continued to look at the script for what had become hours, the both of you deciding it would be easier if you each assumed one of the character’s voices, speaking on behalf of the characters as you discussed. Coming up with a ‘what would soobin/penny do?’ process.

All the while during this discussion, Changbin had been scribbling down in his beaten up journal, the sides of the spine of the book peeling off when he’d set it down on the table, making you grimace.

“Do you think Pe—”

“Why don’t you just get a new journal? This one’s making such a mess,” you blurted out, frowning at the way the little brittle pieces of God knows what material covered his notebook had fallen onto the coffee table, making him tear his gaze away from what he was writing, looking at the mess on the coffee table you were gesturing at and letting out an amused huff.

“Oh, didn’t notice,” he smiled, “but that won’t be necessary, this journal’s been serving me fine.”

“It’s literally falling apart,” you pointed out.

“And you’re literally exaggerating.”

You scoffed.

“I mean, look at it, it’s such a hassle to use, since you have to keep cleaning up whenever you do so much as touch it,” you reasoned, seeing him shake his head.

“I don’t need a new journal, I’m perfectly fine using this one,” he told you, making you scrunch your nose up in distaste, Changbin looking at you with amusement heavily laden in his smile.

It seemed that there was something about the hours of bouncing off ideas and bickering that warmed the both of you up more, not feeling as wound up or hostile towards each other as you did a few hours ago, bonding over a shared want for the short film to be good.

“What?” he asked, leaning back against the sofa and resting his arm on one of the cushions, his other hand grasping his fingers as he awaited your response.

“You sound exactly like my mom,” you had a sour look on your face, continuing, “I bet you’re one of those needs versus wants people.” You huffed in amusement, shifting in your seat as you flipped through the scene you were about to discuss.

Changbin’s lips parted in shock, a breathy huff leaving him, “and what’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged, “You know, those people that decide on buying things through the concept of needing it or not.”

Changbin rolled his eyes, “yeah, like any other normal person.”

“It’s so boring! Ever heard of the concept of treating yourself?” you huffed, gesturing wildly. You were clearly very passionate about this.

Changbin shook his head, the smile lingering on his face, “I’m starting to understand why you’re Jisung’s friend. Sure, a treat once in a while is understandable, but i’d rather not waste my money on things I could do without.”

You huffed, a deep sigh leaving you, recalling a conversation you had with Binnie about his scooter.

“What’s up with boys and this need versus want thing? My penpal said the same thing even though he was only eight,” you mumbled, a small breath of laughter leaving your lips, leaving Changbin frowning at your statement.

Maybe other kids just talked about the same things he did with Y/N? He brushed the thought aside.

“He did?”

Changbin’s voice came out more hoarse than he’d intended, the intent in his stare making you falter momentarily, forgetting what you were doing just for a second.

Thankfully, you’d snapped out of whatever trance you were in, shaking your head dismissively, “nothing, it doesn’t matter.”

Changbin tilted his head at you, narrowing his eyes as he contemplated whether to pursue it or not, watching closely as you busied yourself with flipping pages just to look busy, even though the inside of your mind was spinning with an indescribable feeling that came with convincing yourself that the drift between you and your penpal was merely circumstantial.

You chewed on your lip, hating the way it felt as though your stomach was churning as you remembered the disappointment you felt when your letters had stopped getting sent through.

You were young, surely you shouldn’t blame yourself, you believed that. Your finger fiddled with the corner of the page, staring at Soobin’s dialogue.

‘Did our conversations even mean anything to you?’ the dialogue read, and you inhaled deeply as your head lifted to look at Changbin, your abrupt movement almost making him flinch in surprise.

“Why did you really stop talking to your penpal?” you sighed, curiosity getting the better of you. Though at this point you weren’t sure if it was curiosity or simply reassurance. Maybe even closure. All of which you needed to satisfy.

Changbin knew you weren’t going to accept his ‘grew out of it’ statement for an answer, deciding to be honest with you, you know, for the sake of the short film.

“I just… stopped hearing from them,” he began, heaving a sigh of his own as he shifted in his seat, picking at the imaginary dust on his sweatpants, “guess they had nothing to say.”

You couldn’t lie about it, you felt relieved. A part of you began to understand why he’d painted Penny’s character out to be like that, or furthermore why Soobin had seemed so affected by the revelation.

“Nothing to say…” you echoed, as if trying to wrap your head around his reasoning as well.

A small huff of amusement left him, though there was a hint of bitterness in his smile.

“I wouldn’t have minded, you know.”

He took his lower lip between his teeth, letting it go and you watched as the blood rushed back into his lips, looking redder than before.

Your eyebrows knit into a frown, “Wouldn’t have minded what?”

Changbin met your gaze, giving you a resigned shrug, “hearing it,” he continued, “nothing, everything.”

You could almost feel your heartbeat slowing down, the tense silence returning in the room and making you feel like you couldn’t breathe. Now that was some dialogue.

“Oh,” you broke the silence, your blank expression reading pure shock, your reaction catching Changbin off guard, “write that down, that’s such a Soobin thing to say.”

Changbin couldn’t do anything but laugh, shaking his head at you, “how opportunistic of you,” he teased, though he wrote it down nonetheless.

Maybe you being here was good, Changbin thought, it reminded him not to take himself too seriously sometimes.

===

To: Binnie

How are you?

I hope you are not still sad about your friends. I would tell you not to listen to them but i know that’s difficult sometimes because you can hear everything they say. But they were being very mean so they are not nice people. I don’t agree with what they said, because i think you are very nice and you have a nice smile. I don’t think you are scary. Sometimes my mom tells me i should smile more so people think i’m happy but I think you should just smile if you are happy. If you are sad then you can be sad. It is not a bad thing. I’m your friend because you’re nice to me and I like talking to you. If they’re going to be mean to you then they’re not your friends. If they do that to you again you can tell me their address and I will go and tell them myself!

Till next time, Your penpal Y/N

You’d shown up on the filming set on the first day absolutely buzzing from head to toe and ready to go (though, when you told Jisung about how you felt he’d insisted it was because of the lack of substantial sleep and the cans of energy drink you’d both drank the night before while he was helping you prepare your lines), but it seemed that everyone on the set was more tense than ever.

You found Hyunjin huddled with a few of them next to the sound cart, deciding to approach them to ask where Changbin was, having bought a coffee for him along the way.

“Hey,” you called, Hyunjin jumping in shock as he turned, his hand over his heart as he winced at you.

“Why do you move so quietly!” he groaned, making you dismiss him with a wave. 

“Did something happen? You guys look stressed,” you took a step towards them, possible reasons fluttering around in your mind but none seeming quite appropriate for the context you were in. Maybe the semester’s GPA results were out?

“Whatever, do you guys know where I can find Changbin?” The boy next to Hyunjin, a freshman by the name of Jeongin had sucked in a sharp breath at your question, making you grow even more confused.

“He’s… a little tense these days, so I’d suggest being a more careful around him,” Chan explained, earning nods of agreement from the film club members.

Your eyebrows raised, confusion showing in a slight pout on your lips. You didn’t remember him behaving out of the ordinary when you’d seen him the day before.

“Where’d he go?��

“He’s over there,” Chan pointed towards where the camera was set up and true enough, you saw Changbin seated at a bench there busying himself with his phone.

Nodding, you’d made your way over to Changbin, discomfort growing within you at the stares you were getting from the club members (some of which you didn’t even know the names of) as you made your way towards the blonde haired boy. It was a wonder why they all avoided him like the plague.

Changbin seemed to have sensed your presence, looking up from his phone and giving you a small wave as you reached the bench, sitting down next to him and holding out his cup of coffee.

Accepting it gratefully, he’d given you a nod.

“Thanks,” he glanced at your hands, “you didn’t get one for yourself?”

You let out a small burst of chuckles, “nope, figured it wasn’t the most logical thing to do since i’m already pretty alert from last night’s energy drinks.”

Changbin sucked in a sharp breath, clicking his tongue in teasing disapproval, “I figured as much, Jisung was way too hyper when I met him at the studio.”

Your expression was sheepish, “I’d say I was sorry but it was... important.”

Changbin huffed, “It’s alright, as long as you’re taking care of yourself.”

Before you could react to his statement, Changbin had acted as though he hadn’t said anything, an amused smile playing at his lips as he tore his gaze away from you, looking forward as he took a sip from his cup, “ready to film today?”

You nodded, regaining your bearings, trying not to think too much of his words.

“Pretty much, you?”

Changbin nodded, “yeah, even though we still have a little bit of the script left, I would say i’m pretty confident.”

You glanced behind Changbin, spotting Hyunjin looking at the both of you with sheer disbelief, making you roll your eyes, turning back to Changbin, angling your body on the bench so you could hug your knees to your chest, looking at him curiously.

“Are you feeling okay?”

He nodded, looking at you with confusion written in his features, clasping his hands around his coffee cup as he rested his hands on his lap, “yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”  

Maybe it was just his resting bitch face.

“Smile,” you commanded, nodding your head when he’d looked even more confused.

You watched in amusement as Changbin had laughed, shaking his head before looking at you with an all too sarcastic smile, his hand coming up in a peace sign next to his cheek, a smile unknowingly making its way onto your face at the sight.

“Okay now, don’t smile,” you continued.

Changbin had let his smile fall, looking just the same as he did when you’d shown up, making you press your lips into a firm line, a slight knit in your brows as your eyes narrowed.

Turning his head, he straightened up.

“Cool, Minho’s here,” he said, getting up and holding a hand out to help you up.

“Thanks,” you muttered, not expecting him to turn around and give you a smile.

“Let’s go, Penny.”

It was strange to you that there was something that felt so familiar about his smile, it reminded you of something that made you feel nostalgic. You liked seeing him smile. Changbin had a nice smile.

You brushed the thought away, nodding as you took his hand, letting him help you out.

“What, so you guys don’t hate each other anymore?” Jisung groaned later on that same week when you’d told him about the exchange you had.

He lifted his head from where he lay on your bed, “God, with you guys it’s like everyday’s something different.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him in amusement, “well… that’s because it is, isn’t it?”

You spotted the box of letters from your childhood penpal hidden beneath a stack of novels you had yet to unpack, your eyes glistening with triumph as you reached into your storage closet, fishing it out with a grunt.

“Come to think of it, Changbin hasn’t said anything about you since that day you met him to rewrite the script,” he murmured thoughtfully.

Heaving a sigh as you got up from your squat, you closed your closet, “which day? We met up a few times for the script.”

Jisung perked up at that, sitting up slightly and supporting his weight with his elbows.

“You did? Why am I only finding out about this now?” he scoffed.

You rolled your eyes, walking over to your desk to set the box onto it, “I told you about it, you just forgot.”

Making your way over to the bed, you flopped down onto your belly next to Jisung, looking at him curiously as he frowned at you. His mention of Changbin had made you curious.

“He… really hasn’t said anything about me?” you dared to ask, regretting it almost immediately when Jisung had taken the opportunity to twist your words.

Jisung’s expression had changed to one that you were all too used to, how his eyes would give away that he was thinking of saying something to tease you, his lips curving into a slight smirk.

“Why? Do you want him to be talking about you?”

You wrinkled your nose, a small panicked scoff leaving you, “yeah, right. Don’t get too carried away there.”

Jisung prodded further, leaning closer to you as he drawled, “well, why not? I mean, you said it yourself, you guys are on pretty good terms now, aren’t you?”

You purse your lips. The film club had been nice enough to give you a month longer to work on the script, you and Changbin ending up getting carried away and doing the whole thing over. And of course, within that month, you interacted with Changbin in some way or another almost everyday.

It could be meetings at his or your apartment, or spontaneous phone calls when one of you thought of an idea and you’d felt inspired to discuss it (even if you were on your bed tucked into your sheets when it happened most of the time), sometimes it was even just simple texts checking up on each other and asking what the other thought about the updates.

Nonetheless, you’d grown used to Changbin’s presence, finding that after that meeting at his house, it was like it had softened the both of you up to each other, especially when you realised your perception of Changbin was all wrong and that really, he was as soft as softies go.

You gave Jisung a shrug, tugging the neckline of your shirt down, feeling as though the room had gotten hotter, “I mean, yeah, I guess. He doesn’t annoy me as much as he used to.”

Jisung let out a chuckle, the laugh bubbling out louder as he continued.

“You know if you tell me you like him now,  I won’t make fun of you.”

“You’re lying.”

“So, you do like him?” His grin widened, making you sputter for a better response, figuring you’d dug your own grave with that one.

“Don’t stir shit,” you narrowed your eyes at him.

Your reaction had only tickled him even more, clutching his belly as he sighed, “I knew it. Remember? I told you he was your type!” his tone was triumphant, making you regret fuelling his suspicions.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re very happy about that,” you huffed, turning away from him and burying your face in your soft sheets, your hand coming up next to your head to smooth over the fabric.

You felt Jisung’s hand on your arm, his expression grim.

“Wait, so am I really right? You like him?”

You shrugged his hand away, though he hadn’t budged, giving up soon after.

“I mean,” you enjoyed your last moment of peace before you decided to reply to him, “he’s cute, I won’t deny that. And he’s become a lot nicer to me… he’s fun to talk to? I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little attracted to him.”

Jisung snickered, “that’s cute, but gross. I can’t believe you like Changbin.”

Trust him to only get that out of whatever you’d just told him.

You turned to give him a wide-eyed look of disbelief, “oh, please, you were the one that kept fluffing him up to me!”

Jisung had simply shrugged, unfazed by your outburst, a small sound of hesitation leaving him.

“I would say I did a minimal amount of fluffing. I just called it before the both of you realised.”

You grit your teeth, “fine, enjoy your moment. But one word about it to Changbin and you’re dead. Got it?”

Jisung’s eyes widened, his hand coming up to mimic zipping up his lips.

“Got it.”

===

“Cut!”

You turned to cast a desperate look to Chan, the said boy looking apologetic as he called for a stop again. You watched as he leant down for Changbin to murmur something in his ear, Chan nodding before making his way over to you and Minho.

“We’re thinking maybe you could try that scene again but maybe with just a little more… in the moment? Maybe try not to rush through it,” Chan suggested to Minho, making the said boy groan.

“Sorry, it’s my fault. It’s just- we’ve been filming for hours, if I wasn’t so scared of Changbin I would’ve—”

“I know,” Chan reassured Minho, giving the both of you a small smile, “hopefully we can get this scene done quickly and then we’ll all be free to go, hmm?”

You nodded, letting Chan make his way back to where the monitor was as you got back into position with Minho.

Changbin watched intently as you and Minho acted out the scene again, something about the way Minho was delivering his lines seeming so unaligned with the picture Changbin had in his head. Was it the lines that weren't doing it for him? Was it because Changbin couldn’t quite tap into the emotions of the character in this scene?

He wasn’t sure what exactly it would look or sound like to be in love, but whatever ‘Soobin’ was showing, sure wasn’t what Changbin wanted it to be.

After you’d finished the scene, the film club members had waited anxiously for Changbin’s greenlight on whether they were free to go, all of them anxiously looking on as Chan went to talk to a few of them at props.

You taken the liberty of making your way over to where Changbin was, seeing him intently monitoring the scene that you’d just shot, the reason behind why he’d made you and Minho run through the same scene 15 times starting to become clear to you.

“That’s not gonna help you make it better, you know?” you spoke, shoving your hands into your pocket and scrunching your eyes shut as you braced against the cool wind that was blowing your way, the trees rustling loudly as Changbin’s head shot up, the frown remaining on his face.

“What?” Changbin figured he came off as a little too annoyed, but he stayed unwavering nonetheless, wanting to know just what you thought you knew about him.

“You know, I watched an interview once, and this actor said something that was so true,” you began, taking a seat next to him, feeling his gaze on you before you continued, your gaze falling on the image of you and Minho on the monitor, “he said that playback makes scenes seem a lot more dissatisfactory.”

Changbin’s frown deepened, “I don’t get it, just spit it out.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile, “I’m trying to give you advice here, okay? As I was saying, be in the moment. Not everything’s gonna turn out like how it is in your head.”

You inhaled deeply, a slight shiver running down your spine at how cold you felt, taking a hand out of your pocket to tap him on the arm.

“Now can you wrap it up and call it a day? The rest of them have been dying to go home but they’re too scared to tell you.”

Changbin hummed, “They are? Why?”

You nodded, seeing Changbin already making to stand up and call for the rest’s attention, with you taking the opportunity to lean over to him and mutter, “Dunno, maybe they just haven’t figured out what a softie you are yet.”

Changbin attempted to press his lips together firmly to contain his smile, though eventually giving up and letting the soft smile be shown on his face as he dismissed the club members, the rest of them already having started shifting their equipment back.

You’d decided to help them shift the equipment while Changbin talked to Chan about something, trying your best to ignore the way the weather seemed to be getting chillier as all the equipment had started feeling cold to the touch. Mental note to start wearing warmer clothes out after today.

“Thanks for convincing Changbin to free us,” Hyunjin sighed when you were coming down the stairs after locking the club room, making you huff.

“He’s not some dictator, you know. You guys could just ask him next time,” you reasoned.

Hyunjin scoffed, “I’d much rather keep my life, thank you very much.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled out your phone as you thought whether to text Jisung if he’d wanted to meet for dinner.

“You’re so dramatic,” you told Hyunjin, “I told him and I got to keep my life.”

Hyunjin scoffed, “that’s cause he—”

He stopped himself abruptly, eyes widening for a split second before he shrugged, “that’s cause you fight with him all the time, it’s different.”

You saw a text come in.

Changbin 8:14pm - do u wanna go get dinner? I’m done talking to Chan -

“Speak of the devil,” you murmured, erasing your drafted text to Jisung and replying to Changbin to say that you would wait at the quad.

Changbin 8:14pm - i was thinking of eating some cold noodles -

You grimaced at the thought, Hyunjin pulling you out of your thoughts, “are you waiting for Changbin?”

You nodded, sensing his hesitancy to let you wait there alone, “you go ahead, I’ll be fine, he’s already on his way.”

Hyunjin frowned, turning to see Changbin from afar already making his way over, Changbin having spotted the both of you and given Hyunjin a wave.

Waving back, Hyunjin nodded, “alright, I’ll see you.”

Tugging your jacket tighter around yourself, you folded your arms, hoping Changbin would hurry up so you could finally go somewhere with heating.

Though once he’d met up with you, you were a little confused when he’d gone a completely different direction than you’d expected, leading you to a traditional restaurant that served mainly soups and broths instead.

Don’t get me wrong, you were thankful for the warmth of the restaurant, of course, but just a little confused about why he changed his mind.

You let him order for the both of you, looking curiously from where you were seated facing him, leaning back in the wooden chairs as Changbin ordered from the older lady running the shop.

“I thought you wanted to eat cold noodles?” you scanned the menu in search of the item, confusion increasing when you found nothing of the sort.

Changbin shook his head, “figured you might wanna eat something warmer,” he admitted, making your lips part in surprise.

“How’d you know?”

Changbin didn’t know how to explain that it was because he’d kept looking at you during shooting and he didn’t miss the way your hands would clench and unclench the fabric of your clothes, or how you’d fold your arms more and shake them out in between takes when you thought no one was looking.

“…  just a wild guess.”

You brushed his comment aside, the both of you talking about your upcoming classes or complaining about readings that had yet to be read, the sheer boiling temperature of the stone pot making heat rush to your cheeks and spread through your body, thankful for Changbin’s wild guess.

Leaning back in your seat with your hands over your stomach, you sighed at how full you were feeling, already anticipating your food coma as you let yourself zone out staring at the label of Changbin’s bottle of soju.

“Are they really scared of me?”

You’d dragged yourself out of your daze (reluctantly), your lips pursing, “sorry, what did you say?”

Changbin averted his gaze, fiddling with his fingers under the table. Smoothing his thumb over the soft skin at his palm, his tongue poking at his canines before he looked back at you, meeting your gaze with a certain determination.

“The film club people,” he repeated, “are they really scared of me?”

You shrugged, “yeah, I guess. Like, they talked about it before… I guess it’s because you have that serious expression on a lot so they might take it the wrong way.”

Observing his expression, his lips had parted, a blank expression on his face, “I have a serious expression?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, tilting your head at him, “I think It’s just your resting face. They’re kind of wary of how they act around you during meetings, you know, which is why they had that kind of reaction when I first spoke up about the script.”

Changbin let his grip around his spoon relax, whatever rice he’d scooped into it dispersing into the soup.

“Then why aren’t you scared?”  

You almost snorted with how immediate your laughter had bubbled out of you, a bout of chuckles leaving you as your shoulders shook lightly.

“Because,” you waved your spoon slightly, “there’s nothing to be scared of.”

Changbin’s blank expression had prompted you to continue.

“I have no problem with you being assertive about what you want,” you explained, “I mean, if it were my script, i’d probably be equally, if not more, assertive about how I want it. But that’s a good thing about you. You don’t just… shut up if something doesn’t sit right with you. That’s something I’ve always thought was really important.”

Call him crazy, but Changbin couldn’t adequately describe how your words had done more in spreading a giddy warmth in his chest than the food ever could.

He wasn’t always like this. If anything, he’d wanted to say that he’d pushed himself to be more assertive after countless conversations with his penpal about not being afraid to speak up for what you want.

Though he’d always been scared of whether he’d be doing a disservice to the people he worked with if he chose not to speak up, he was glad that you reminded him just why he started doing it in the first place.

Penny’s character in his head had started to look more and more like you. And he was glad.

“You wanna hear something crazy?” You blurted.

You didn’t know where you were going with this. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, really. You just knew that saying what you said to him had triggered a sense of what you could only describe as love within you. If you knew anything about it.

“What?” he asked, the smile on his face making you stop in your tracks. How could he remind you so much of someone, yet seem so much like a mature, upgraded version of them at the same time?

You couldn’t possibly tell him that you were starting to be kind of glad that you didn’t meet Binnie, because you felt like you were looking at him right now. And childhood penpal or not, you were so much more smitten with the one sitting before you.

“Nothing,” you breathed, “nothing, sorry, forget I said anything.”

Your revelation reminded you that you’d brought your old letters from Binnie for Changbin to tap on for inspiration to write the last scene, shutting your mouth and turning to fish the box out of your bag.

“I just remembered, you asked for these right?” you pushed the box towards him, seeing him pick up the box gingerly (as though it were that brittle old notebook he uses), placing it into his bag.

“I’m assuming they’re the letters from your old penpal?”

You nodded, “but don’t laugh when you read them, okay? He was really nice to me.”

Changbin huffed, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips, “yeah, yeah, no promises.”

After you were done with your dinner (Changbin paying for it as a supposed ‘thank you’ for being patient during filming), you’d prepared yourself to fight against the cold night breeze as you stepped out of the restaurant before Changbin, not having expected to feel a warm weight being draped over your shoulders.

“I don’t know why you decided to come out without a coat when you know now’s usually when the weather gets colder,” he tutted his tongue, feigning disapproval, not giving you any time to be shocked at his gesture.

He stood in front of you, tugging the coat tighter around you as he met your gaze, giving you a tired smile.

“I’ll walk you back to your apartment.”

You bit down on your lip, your racing heart and panic making the best reply you could come up with to be a mere, “didn’t peg you to be so gentlemanly.”

To which Changbin shrugged, a small smirk playing at his lips.

“I can be pretty romantic if I want.”

You were gonna get whiplash at this rate.

That same night (or day, 3am was a fine line), you’d received an email from Changbin of the last scene for the film, reading through it and having to stop in between for breaths and water breaks because you had no idea Changbin was capable of encompassing such romantic sentiments in a scene.

Looking at what he wrote, you would never have thought he was the same person that kept arguing with you about happy endings going to shit.

Changbin had written the scene in a burst of inspiration, having felt an almost uncomfortably foreign giddiness within him after returning home from your dinner, feeling even more motivated when he’d watched the film footage they’d shot earlier that day (unconsciously rewinding more than once to watch you act) deciding to just go with whatever he was feeling and write down the scene he had in mind.

And if anyone was asking, no, he totally didn’t picture you as Penny and himself as Soobin the entire time while doing so.

By the time you were done, it was almost an hour later, the aftermath of reading his scene making you pick your phone up and send him a text.

4:02am - did something happen? What’s with the lovey dovey script? Did someone finally change their mind about Penny? -

Not long after, Changbin’s reply came in, feeling thankful that he’d only decided to open your box of letters, or more accurately his letters, after he was done with the scene, something about what he found putting him in an all too thoughtful mood.

Changbin 4:04am -let’s just say... i took your advice-

===

“What do you think, Changbin?” Chan’s voice had snapped Changbin out of his daze, the latter looking at Jisung with a shrug.

“I would say you’re just short changing yourself if you didn’t talk to her. I mean, you said you liked her, right? So what are you waiting for?” Changbin sounded almost impatient, his tone eliciting a grunt from Jisung.

“Yeah, you say it like you’re not the one hiding your hopeless crush on Y/N.”

Chan’s eyes widened, not having expected Jisung to say it so blatantly.

Changbin sputtered, looking at Chan for help only to be met with giggles.

“I’m sorry, dude, it was really quite easy to tell.”

Changbin wanted the cushioned booth to swallow him whole, scrunching his eyes tightly shut in a wince.

“Whatever, that’s not the point,” he waved Jisung off dismissively, “we’re talking about your love life here.”

Jisung pursed his lips, shaking his head, “it’s not fun anymore, I wanna talk about yours.”

Changbin glared at Jisung, “i’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Good, ‘cause you should be having it with Y/N.”

Chan raised an eyebrow at the younger boy, humming in suspicion.

“Why do you sound like you know things...”

Jisung shrugged, raising his hands to give a dramatic shrug, “Do I? I guess we’ll never find out since Changbin ‘isn’t gonna have this conversation with me’.”

Chan turned to Changbin, who currently looked as though he would rather die than be here right now, “actually, what are you waiting for?”

Changbin brought a hand up to massage his fingers on his temples, a resigned sigh leaving him.

“I don’t know, I’ll probably not do anything until the showcase. I still don’t know how exactly I wanna go about it.”

Jisung snickered, “you’ll be fine, seriously.”

“Yeah, whatever, I’ll just enjoy whatever time I have left to think about it till the showcase. Now back to your issue… ”

But obviously, Changbin didn’t use his 3 days of buffer time very well.

He was lucky the atmosphere of the showcase and the unexpected crowd of people had prolonged the time until he’d be in a situation where he’d feel compelled to talk to you about it. Whatever it was.

You hadn’t noticed, obviously, the way Changbin had been keeping himself busy talking to guests and teachers that had shown up, people from the media and publications club. You were too busy being whisked away by your own friends and a already slightly tipsy Minho who thought it was a good idea to pregame drinks before the afterparty later on.

It’d only been when things started calming down and people were actually watching the film that you’d been put in a position where you had no choice other than to think about the boy seated in front of you tapping his foot incessantly on the carpeted floor of the auditorium.

Once the show was over, you’d leant forward, about to congratulate him when you’d both been whisked up by one of the teachers-in-charge, pulling you together with Minho onto the stage to answer questions from the audience.

The questions were fairly simple, most of them from the media and publications club trying to get technical details for their article, allowing you to zone out from where you stood on the stage, letting Changbin smoothly answer all the questions they could possibly throw at him. It wasn’t like Minho was in any position to answer them, tipsy and zoned out of his mind.

It was only when you’d heard him fumbling around with his words that you looked up from the spot on the wall you were staring at, turning to look at Changbin with an embarrassing amount of concern on your features.

“I’m sorry can you repeat the question?” you’d spoken into the microphone, hearing someone that sounded almost identical to Jisung asking how he got inspiration from the story.

You looked at Changbin curiously, as if silently asking if he needed you to step in, only to have him look at you with a blank expression, his mouth opening and closing as he fumbled for an answer.

“Oh, well, I’m sure I can answer this on behalf of Changbin,” you began, “we’d worked on the script together, and it was inspired by a lot of things, like our experiences with pen pals as well as movies like ‘you’ve got mail’.”

Changbin’s shoulders slumped with relief, nodding towards you as a silent thanks, the moment cut short when you were once again whisked away into different crowds to take pictures or to carpool to the afterparty.

Though you were bored 10 minutes into the party, Minho having gotten drunk before you could even get past your second drink, you’d let Changbin have his fun. You figured it was a good thing that he was being recognized for his efforts, even if he didn’t look like he was enjoying the attention very much. He needed it, you supposed, to be forced to see how much people enjoyed the work he made.

But you didn’t stay to see it too long, adjourning to the porch of whoever’s house you were in to enjoy an environment away from the loud music and too many people you didn’t know.

“Already bored?”

You’d jumped at the sound of Changbin’s voice, his footsteps loud against the wooden porch as he took a seat next to you on the swing, holding out his bottle of soda to you, “do you want some?”

You shook your head, seeing him shrug, “suit yourself, then.” He took a long sip of his soda, sighing afterwards.  

A tired smile on your face, you let out a deep sigh, “didn’t expect you to find me here so quickly.”

“How could I not?” he laughed, shaking his head, “In case you didn’t notice, I was suffocating in there, figured I deserve a break.”

“Good job, though, I’d say you handled everything well…” you started, your smile growing, “... though there is one thing…  I didn’t think you were the type to struggle with public speaking.”

Changbin’s lips parted in shock, scoffing, “shut up, I don’t usually.”

“Sure, you don’t,” you teased, bringing your hands to your sides to support your weight, letting your legs lift off the ground as Changbin used his feet to move the swing gently.

You leant back in your seat, enjoying the silence you were able to get out here as compared to the chaos going on within the house, noticing how tense Changbin seemed, his posture anything but relaxed as he’d let out sigh after sigh, tapping his rings against the seat of the bench absently.

“Relax,” you chuckled, “it’s already over.”

Doing the opposite of relaxing, Changbin simply stopped moving the swing, angling his body to face you more as he fished in his blazer pocket for something, pulling out an envelope from his jacket, “I have uh… something for you.”

Holding it out for you to take, your gaze fell on the colourful envelope, the little strawberry stickers you remembered using your savings to buy as you frowned at the address written on the envelope in your old messy ‘princess handwriting’.

Your gaze darted from the envelope back to him, “how did you… how do you have this?”

“I have it,” he began, letting out yet another sigh, “because you sent it to me.”

If it could, your heart would’ve stopped in that exact moment.

“Read it,” he prompted when you’d stayed silent, your hands moving urgently to open the envelope, your heart feeling warm when you pulled the paper out, already being able to see the ‘To: Binnie’ written with your favourite scented marker.

To: Binnie

How are you? I’m fine. I am writing this very late in the night because I finished my rehearsal for my school play in the evening and I just finished taking a bath. I have to be quick or my mom is gonna scold me for not sleeping yet. I wanted to tell you that you should sign up for the competition. Which is why I have to mail this to you A.S.A.P as possible because you said the sign up closes in a few days. I think that you should just try it out, even if you don’t do well. Because then at least you can say that you gave it a try and you had fun. I saw this on a tv show, and they said if you don’t try, you will never know if it will turn out well, because you didn’t try.

So I’m telling you to try!!!!! Just try your best and have fun. I think you will do well.

Till next time, Your penpal Y/N.

“So this is me… trying… it. Whatever it is,” he sounded out of breath, almost, and your heart had begun to pick up speed at how it seemed as though this would be the time where he would confess his feelings to you (if Soobin and Penny were any guide to go by).

You should’ve known Changbin better by now, though.

“Thank you… for helping me with the film. You know, for giving me crap about it because I know that that wasn’t really what I felt. I was just… bitter, but for some reason, you giving me shit about it kind of reminded me why I liked being friends with my penpal- or, I guess, liked being friends with you, so much in the first place.” he was looking at you more confidently now, straightening up as he continued.

“It wasn’t because you gave me fake money to buy a scooter, or anything,” he laughed, “it was more because you were someone that was friends with me for who I was? You were kind, and you were honest.”

Changbin fiddled with the envelope in his hands as you tried your best to contain your smile.

“And you were especially supportive, you know, in your own argumentative way.”

You let out a huff of breathy laughter at that, your hand coming up to touch your necklace, finding something else to fiddle with to contain your anxiousness.

“I’m glad, though, that I didn’t know you were that Y/N,” he told you, “because I already grew to like this Y/N so much, that… finding out was just… a pleasant surprise.”

For the first time since you saw the letter, you’d spoken, a breathy, “me too,” leaving you, embarrassing you to no end.

“I’m glad it was you,” you murmured, averting your gaze, not having expected Changbin to have reached out a hand towards yours, hovering just momentarily before making the decisive action of grasping it gently.

“Me too.”

“So are you gonna explain why my letters—”

“Shh,” he shut his eyes, the smile on his face making you give in almost instantly, “don’t ruin it.”

===

“I didn’t know people even still sent letters these days,” Jisung snorted, sipping on his coffee that he’d just gone downstairs to buy, “here, you have one, but there's no name.”

You frowned, picking it up and finding the handwriting of your address awfully familiar, feeling as though you’d definitely seen it scribbled on a specific brittle old notebook before.

You flopped onto your bed, opening the letter as Jisung resumed playing whatever game he was busy with on your desktop computer.

Thankful for the distraction, you’d quickly unfolded it, scrunching your nose at his choice of pen name.

To: my penpal Y/N

This letter may just be over a decade overdue, but I wanted to firstly say I’m sorry for making you wait so long. That letter about my film competition, that was the last one I received from you, and one of my favourites. I figured it out, by the way, I gave you the wrong address. Phonics was a very tricky thing for my eight year old stubborn self that refused to cross check with my mom.

I figured sending you a letter was best, you know, since you know I'm not the very best at public speaking, or just speaking in general sometimes, I doubt I'd be able to say as eloquently what I wanted to say to you in this letter.

I wanted to give you a few updates. Firstly, I met someone in my film club. Well, technically I auditioned them for my short film so there’s no one to blame for the trouble they caused other than me. I didn’t like them that much at the beginning. I thought they were just trying to impose their stupid happily ever after beliefs on me, someone who thought I was a big bad cynical bitter man that didn’t believe in love stories.

As you probably guessed, they challenged me (a lot), and waiting to see them started to feel like the days where I would wait to hear my mom tell me that a letter came in for me, even better actually. They reminded me of the qualities in myself that I was always afraid of showing, and they reminded me what was so good about being unapologetic for who I was sometimes, because they accepted all of that, (but not without giving me an shit about it first, of course).

But i’m thankful, I’m thankful because I really grew to like them a lot. I liked how I could be comfortable being myself around her, and I liked how they would support me when I needed it, but also to correct me when I need to be corrected.

They were real, and I liked that, a lot.

So, the point of this was that if they ever happen to receive this, you know, (because I totally didn’t know your current address, obviously), I hope they know that I’ve grown to like them very much, to like the personality that i’ve come to know, and that i’m very excited to grow to know (and like) even more.

I’ll be seeing you, Binnie.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Smut

Chapter 6

******

Laughter sounds in the kitchen, the mix of yours and Carol’s filling the kitchen.

She leans against the counter across from you, sipping from a cup of coffee you’d made for her. And you sit on one of the few stools drinking tea with a new friend, Goose the cat, in your lap.

This morning you’d planned to just get a cup of tea and return to your room to read.

Finding Carol in the kitchen already changed that plan. The two of you started talking and she drew you in with even more exciting tales of space and the Air Force.

Much like the past few days you get wrapped up in how nice Carol is. Sure she’s a little sarcastic, and not so secretly cocky. But that’s definitely swept away by the fact that she’s very funny and friendly.

Goose purrs rhythmically as you pet him and listen to Carol talk about restoring a planet named Easik.

“Not to be nosey or anything but, how does your girlfriend feel about your space travels?” You maintain eye contact as you sip your tea.

Carol chuckles a little,“ she’s not really fond of all the time I spend away and she worries about the dangers out there. But she and her daughter always trust that I’ll get home safely. Plus I make up for it with cool stories and space gifts.”

“Ever the charmer Danvers.” You shake your head.

“Why thank you, I try.” The woman does an exaggerated bow.

Mid laugh, Goose stands up in your lap causing your hand to slide down his soft fur as he looks at the door.

Natasha steps through, clad in athletic wear and sporting a messy ponytail.

Subconsciously you find your gaze passing over the material of her pants that shape her legs and the tank top that shows off her toned arms.

Has she always been this hot or are you only just now noticing?

Thankfully the woman’s words pull you from your thoughts.

“Am I interrupting something?” She asks, walking behind Carol to the coffee pot.

Carol shakes her head,“ just Y/N telling me about her time at NYU.”

You’re quick to tell them,“ which was really just a lot of studying and sleep deprivation.”

“And crazy parties! You saw a guy jump from a roof into a pool of Jell-O. Which makes me wonder if you did too?” She tilts her head inquisitively.

“Of course not,” you finish off tour tea,“ but not because of the jump. I literally cringed at the idea of having Jell-O in places it shouldn’t be.”

The blonde is laughing again and you smile, almost proudly, at having gotten her to.

Natasha looks away so no one can see her roll her eyes.

“Ladies!”

The familiar voice of the one Mister Tony Stark hits your ears before he steps into view. He’s smiling at each of you in greeting and pointing at the cat that definitely wasn’t here the last time he was.

“T! What brings you by, again?” You return his smile sweetly.

“Oh I’m just here to cordially invite you all to mine and Pepper’s anniversary dinner Friday night. Figured getting out would do you some good since your social life is like watching paint dry.” He teases with a fake pout.

Standing from your stool, Goose leaping down from your lap at the same time, you speak to Tony,“ you know, the more time I spend with you the more I understand why Pepper needed to see me.”

Having said that, you leave out. Tony follows you and Goose pauses, looking from where you were to Carol, only to follow after you as well.

With you out of earshot, Carol turns to Natasha with a raised brow.“ I could be wrong here but, am I sensing that you’re interested in Y/N?”

“Of course not.” Natasha shoots the idea down quickly.

Too quickly.

Carol smirks,“ please. You came in here with every bit of jealousy in your tone.” She folds her arms and faces the red head fully,“ which is misplaced. I have a girlfriend.”

Natasha freezes at the information. It’s not a long pause but it’s noticeable enough, making Carol smile proudly.

She knows a crush when she sees one.

“It’s none of my concern who you or Y/N are dating.” She finally says, grip loosening on her cup as she leaves.

For the days that pass Natasha finds herself thinking more and more about what Carol said. 

One thing Natasha knows is how to identify her feelings, but she’d only really encountered these feelings once before. With Bruce.

She felt differently with him than she did with Steve and Tony. The feelings scared her and when she decided to free fall into them, he pushed her away and left for more than two years.

That experience made her familiar with, wanting someone romantically. So when she began to feel that way towards you a mere few days after your second session she fought to push it away. 

She’d be damned if she got hurt again, especially by someone claiming to want to help her. 

And despite not wanting to be hurt, a part of her still wonders about you.

A part that she tries her hardest to ignore. So much so that she doesn’t go to your session the morning of Tony and Pepper’s anniversary.

You couldn’t lie and say you aren’t disappointed to not find her in your office when you got there. And even more disappointed the more time passed without her showing.

You consider going to find her, thinking that something must really be bothering her for her to not show up after all the progress she’d made. But you also considered that she could just be busy and decided that just this once you’d back off.

So, for the time being, you go over the files of the rest of the team, working on possible ways to make breakthroughs and just coping exercises in general. 

Hours pass of this, you stopping only twice to get fresh tea and lunch. Until eventually you’re getting ready for the anniversary dinner. 

After having received directions to the venue from Tony, you get ready to leave. Steve and Bucky offering you a ride and telling you that Natasha, Wanda, and Sam left already.

Light conversation flows between the three of you until you get there. Bucky parking and Steve getting out to open your door for you. 

“Thanks.” You smile, hopping out of the SUV and walking beside them into the building. 

It’s a lot simpler than you expected it to be. As simple as crystal chandeliers and champagne fountains can be.

While looking for Tony and Pepper, your eyes catch Natasha. She’s standing beside Wanda at the bar and looking more beautiful than you’d ever seen. 

Something about the way that blue looks against her skin, the way the fabric of the dress clings to her curvy form, or perhaps the way her green eyes seem to stand out more than usual. 

Has your eyesight changed in the last week? Why are you seeing her in a different light than before? 

Whatever the case is, your watching her, has you tripping over your own feet. 

Literally.

The only reason you don’t eat shit is because Bucky holds his arm out in front of you. 

“Thanks.” You chuckle nervously hoping no one notices the flush of your cheeks, or what caused you to trip.

You gather yourself before heading over to wish the couple a happy anniversary. And of course it doesn’t take Tony long to make some sarcastic comment. In which Pepper shoos him away so the two of you can catch up. 

All the while Morgan stands closely to her mother so you make sure to address her every once and a while, complimenting her dress and asking her about school(the girl is just as smart as her dad, at some point she’ll probably be smarter). 

Soon enough dinner is served, you sitting with the team at one of the tables and listening to them talk. 

It’s not until they open the dance floor that you see Carol. She comes in, effectively grabbing everyone’s attention. 

The woman joins you, her eyes glancing back and forth from all of you to Tony and Pepper dancing. 

“Awe man, I missed the food.” She half jokes, easing into the empty chair between you and Natasha.

You chuckle, shaking your head,“ I’m sure if you ask nicely, and stroke his ego a little, Tony’ll have them bring you something out.”

“Honey we both know I’d never.” 

When you both laugh, Natasha pushes herself up and goes over to the bar, stepping around the person filled dance floor. 

Your laughter dies, smile replaced by a frown. 

Noticing this, Carol stands, offering a hand,“ dance with me?”

“Okay.” 

On the dance floor, Carol’s arm glides across your lower back with ease, her other hand holding yours just level with your chests. You place your free hand on her shoulder.

The soft music that plays tells you that Tony had nothing to do with the selection tonight. Alongside that thought you notice that Carol’s a good dancer, cause she makes your uncoordinated self move easily.

“Is Natasha watching us?” She asks after a few steps.

Frowning, you look at the blonde, who’s eyes don’t meet yours. You let your gaze fall over the room, and find that Natasha is indeed watching you two. Only to look away when she meets your gaze.

“She was. Why?”

The woman’s chest shakes with a laugh,“ I think she likes you.”

That has you looking back over at the green eyed red head. Once again taking in how beautiful she looks.

Natasha likes you?

What had you done to get her to like you? Nothing. So why would she like you?

A frown masks your brows,“ why would you tell me that? Suppose I believed you and it wasn’t true, I’d look like a complete idiot if I did something about it.”

Carol leans back a little at that,“ you like Natasha?”

You flounder, mouth opening and closing stupidly as you think of a reply,“ no. She’s my patient and she tolerates me, at best.”

And she’s notebly the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. She’s godly beautiful in a human way. She’s, demi-godly beautiful? You aren’t sure that’s the right description but it’s what you think fits.

“What makes you think that?”

Breaking from your thoughts, you recall the interactions you had with Natasha in the beginning of your stay, or the lack there of. Followed by her barely even looking at you your first session.

At this point you and Carol have danced into a second song. You sigh and drop your head on to her shoulder.

“How often do you see me and Natasha talk? Like barely. The most we communicate is in my office where I am nothing but professional because if I’m not then I’d look like some bumbling idiot and that wouldn’t be helping her.”

Carol sighs,“ it’s not my place to say but, if you do have feelings for her, I think it would benefit you to tell her.”

You look up again, brown eyes staring back,“ did you miss the barely tolerates me part?”

“I find that hard to believe. You’re a very likeable person Y/N. Maybe it’s just her thoughts that are keeping her so distant.” She suggests.

The song comes to an end and you step away from her with a shake of your head,“ not to call you delusional, but I think you’ve seen things that aren’t there. I’m simply her therapist.”

As you turn to walk away Carol struggles to find something to say but she can’t. And your crestfallen face is heartbreaking.

That expression on your face completely debunks your claims at not liking the woman and Carol knows you only said it to convince yourself.

******

taglist: @username23345 @muffliat-o  @aaron-despair @natasha-danvers​ @wildhoney32 @criminallyhamilton @fayhar @nat-km-mh

[ecto-american]

The Bachelor

Phic Phight oneshot for @skellagirl: To help raise money for education, Vlad lets a date with himself be auctioned off. To his surprise, Harriet was quite a persistent bidder, and to his bigger surprise...he actually had a good time. Vlad/Harriet

On FFN and AO3

------------------------------------------------------------

"I don't need help getting a date, Jack," Vlad told him shortly. Why did he even come over to FentonWorks? He couldn't even remember why. At least he had some coffee to sip on. If Jack was actually good for anything, it was brewing good coffee.

"Oh come on, V-man! It's not like that! It's to raise money for education!" Jack tried to persuade as he was pouring himself his own cup. Vlad made a small face at the idea. "There's going to be lots of bachelors up there with ya, it won't be just you!"

"I don't think so." He had much better things to do than be paraded around.

"Please Vlad?" Jack nearly begged.

"You know, Vlad, you'd be quite the crowd-drawer," Maddie finally spoke up. Vlad glanced over at her. She was focused on some ectoplasmic samples that were on the counter, dangerously close to some chicken that was marinating for dinner. Mental note; do NOT stay for dinner tonight. "You're likely Amity Park's most sought after bachelor." She looked over her shoulder at him, and with a clearly fake smile, she added, "It'd be really good for you to have a nice woman who's interested in you."

Vlad frowned at her emphasis. He took another drink. It would look good if he showed up for appearances, got it over with and wowed some whatever woman into helping his media image. Election season was coming up, and he was up against the ex-mayor. Doing something for the children would definitely boost him.

"...It is for charity," he said slowly. "And after all, a man like me could fetch for a nice price."

"Of course!" Jack boomed excitedly. "You were voted sexiest billionaire by Cosmopolitan this year!" Oh god, why the hell did Jack know that? And say that? "Trust me, the crowd'll got mad for you!"

Vlad forced a smile.

"I cannot wait."

------------------------------------------------------------

He really could have waited. Friday night had come, and he found himself very reluctantly walking around the Casper High gym, looking at all the silent auction items up on display on cheap collapsable tables. Vlad mentally thanked himself for making sure Daniel would be too busy all night with Skulker to even have the time to come around to laugh at him.

Ugh, nothing really that good was around up for auction in here. Except for him, obviously. He could tell who was a bachelor for auction just by seeing who else was way overdressed to be standing around in a public high school on a Friday night, and Vlad already knew that he was the best option. He spied another one of these men as the individual picked his nose and wiped it on one of the tables. Vlad made a grossed out face. Easily, the best option.

He glanced around more, boredly trying to waste another twenty minutes before he had to go to the auditorium for the bachelor auctioning. This was the worst. Why did he agree to this? His eyes scanned for any familiar face.

"Harriet!" Vlad instantly recognized the journalist. She turned to face him, giving a small smile and wave when she realized who it was. He took a few steps over towards her. "What are you doing here?"

"My niece goes to Casper High," she replied. "So I decided to come around." She nodded her head at the silent auction she was seemingly considering. It was a high end camera bundle, including not just a high end camera but extra lenses, batteries, the case, the whole works honestly, donated by a local electronics store. "Check it out. Maybe even buy a date so that my mother stops asking me about when I'm getting married," she lightly joked. Vlad chuckled.

"You should consider just buying me," Vlad half-joked back. "I'm by far your best option." Harriet gave a hum as she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" she inquired. Vlad motioned to himself as if it was obvious, flashing a smile.

"Of course. Self made billionaire, tech industry pioneer, scientist, mayor of this fine city, and that's just the beginning," he bragged. She lightly shook her head with a smirk.

"Part time Dairy King worker that somehow caught the ice cream machine on fire, Skunk Punks lead singer whose voice cracked every time he sung anything and guitarist who couldn't play guitar," she listed off. Vlad rolled his eyes with a frown. "Idiot who kept sticking his head into the lab equipment machines and lost his eyebrows for six months. Skater wanna-be that broke both of his ankles trying to do tricks on the campus fountain." Vlad scowled.

"You can stop now," he complained. Harriet laughed.

"Oh, I almost need to buy you purely so that I can remind you that you're not all that and a bag of chips," she replied. "And I can finally corner you into an actual interview. You keep pushing me off." She faked a pout. "It's almost like you don't wanna be around me."

"Don't you have to be nosy somewhere else?" he asked.

"Hmm, not tonight." She glanced up at the clock on the wall. "I should go find a seat for the auction. You should probably get up on stage, make yourself look all nice and presentable."

Vlad rolled his eyes, waving her off.

"I need to use the restroom first," he replied. "You head on out."

"See up on the stage. Too bad this isn't Chippendales," she joked. Vlad felt his cheeks flush, and he glared at her. She walked off. Vlad glanced down at the camera bundle she had been eying. He glanced at the auction sheet, and he could tell by the handwriting that she had put in a bid that he knew somebody would eventually counter-offer. Vlad wrote his auctioning number down, and a bid he knew nobody would go over before he made his way to the auditorium.

------------------------------------------------------------

Finally, it was his turn. They put him last, which he completely understood. Always save the best for last. He nearly had dozed off in boredom in his seat while everybody else was auctioned off for barely a hundred dollars.

"We'll start the bidding, as always, at fifty dollars," the overly enthusiastic host said. Vlad mentally scoffed. He was definitely worth more than that. Ugh, this was the last time he did anything to help children. Fuck those little brats. "Fifty-five!"

A bunch of the auction fans shot up in the air. Vlad smiled in satisfaction.

"Oh wow! Okay, well how about sixty-five?" None of the hands went down. "Seventy-five." Two hands went down. "Eighty-five?" Three more hands reluctantly went down. "A hundred?" Most of the hands kept on standing. "Well!" the host chuckled, before directing his attention to Vlad. "You sure are a popular fella!"

No shit. He was a billionaire.

"Let's jump up a bit! One hundred fifty!" Finally, a good amount of the hands went down, leaving only a handful up. "One hundred seventy-five!" No hands down. "Two hundred!" A few reluctantly went down, leaving only four. "Okay, okay! How about-"

"Three hundred!" one of the women called out. The auctioneer looked surprised.

"Oh! Oh um. Okay! Does anybody wanna go higher than three hundred?" he asked.

"Three twenty-five!" Harriet's voice was instantly recognized by Vlad, and he stared in surprise.

"Three-fifty!" the first woman rebutted. Vlad studied her, only to quickly notice that this was a woman he really hadn't ever met before.

"Three seventy five!" Harriet wasted no time putting in her counter offer.

"Four hundred!"

"Four twenty five!"

"Four fifty!"

Vlad watched Harriet as the reporter's jaw clenched. She was staring at the competition with a hard stare.

"Five hundred!" she finally spoke. The other woman studied her, before giving a defeated sigh.

"No counter offer," the unfamiliar lady finally spoke. The auctioneer grinned, pointing to Harriet.

"Well! Looks like our highest prize of the night goes to bidder number seventy-four!"

Harriet met Vlad's eye, and she smiled. He smiled back.

------------------------------------------------------------

"So," Vlad asked, giving a coy smile. "You sure were an insistent bidder." Harriet flushed.

"I did it for the schools," she argued. "My niece goes to Casper High, remember?"

"Oh, I mean, if you did it just to help the schools," Vlad lightly teased. "Then we don't have to go out on the date." Harriet scoffed.

"No way, dude. I spent five-hundred dollars on you, and I'm going to get my money's worth." She poked him in the chest. "Which also means that you're buying me dinner, and some nice wine." Vlad rolled his eyes.

"Alright, alright," he reluctantly agreed. "What time shall I pick you up?" Harriet smiled.

"Uh, depends. When are you free? Tomorrow around seven? Ah, who am I kidding." She smirked at him. "You're probably free whenever. What else do you got going on? Be honest."

Vlad flushed red, scowling.

"Okay, I do happen to be free tomorrow night, but normally I'm not!" he insisted. Harriet snorted. "So you need to make sure you check with me before you schedule something."

"You got nothing," she teased in a sing-song voice.

"Oh? And what do you do?" Vlad challenged. She hummed.

"Well, typically on Mondays I visit my grandmother, Wednesday is girls' night with my friends, Thursdays I have my yoga class, and on the weekends I normally get friends with friends or co-workers, go hike, short trip. Whatever I feel like," she replied without missing a beat. Vlad hated Jack for convincing him to do this stupid auction. "And of course, several days a week I go to the gym."

"I go to the gym too," Vlad insisted. Harriet raised an eyebrow at him. "I do! I'm in excellent shape."

"Are you going to the gym, or do you use a home gym in your mansion?" she pressed. Vlad didn't reply. "Thought so. Guess we're on tomorrow at seven?"

"...Tomorrow at seven."

------------------------------------------------------------

Vlad had opted to simply drive himself in one of his flashy, yet more modest cars. It was honestly kind of hard to go to many places in a limo anyway, and not very intimate when there was an unintentional third party hanging out in the car. Harriet had texted him her address earlier, and he showed up right on time, pulling his car up to the curb of her house. A gentleman was never late, after all.

He parked, not bothering to lock his doors as he stepped up to her house. It was a typical small home in a decent little neighborhood. Not one that Vlad could ever imagine himself living in however, but it was cute. He stood at her front door. He exhaled harshly, mentally preparing himself.

He'd be lying to himself if he said that he wasn't nervous. It was one thing to date a new woman he had just met, but this was Harriet. She knew him when he was still a broke college student that worked part time at Dairy King and was in that terrible punk band with Jack.

Vlad rang her doorbell. He absentmindedly wondered if he'd have to wait on her for long, but thankfully, Harriet answered the door fairly quickly.

"Hey! Look at you!" she greeted cheerfully. Vlad knew he flushed a bit at the compliment, which made him...feel weird. That never happened before. "You really cleaned up for me." Okay now he had to roll his eyes a little. Vlad was in a nicer suit compared to normal, with a darker shirt collar and cufflinks, more polished shoes and the like.

"Ah, I'm nothing compared to how lovely you look this evening," he returned the compliment, and he could see Harriet's cheeks brighten a bit under her porch's poor lighting. They had texted each other about their plans, and so she had dressed appropriately for the five star restaurant; a black dress with dark green detailing that came to her knees, matching shoes and her hair done up. She had a formal black jacket over her arm, as well as a clutch handbag. "Are you ready?"

"Uh, one second!" Harriet turned to her door, checking to ensure it was locked. Once she did so, she turned, slipping her arm into his. "Now I am."

"Well, off we go," he smiled. "I think you'll like where we're going. It has the most divine sushi in Amity Park."

"I can't wait," Harriet replied. "I love sushi. Remember that campus sushi bar?"

"Absolutely," he replied. He walked her down the porch to his car. "Maddie worked there. She used to sneak us huge takeout boxes of leftovers."

"Oh I nearly forgot about that," Harriet laughed. "I'd help her smuggle out the boxes in my backpack."

"And you got soy sauce all over your bag four times," he chuckled. Harriet grumbled.

"Yeah, I had to re-print my final paper," she complained. "And eventually get a new bag that didn't smell like sushi all the time."

Vlad opened the car door for her. She slipped her arm out, giving him a thanks as she slipped inside.

------------------------------------------------------------

Naturally, he had made a reservation for the best seat in the house; a table in a more private area of the place, indoors but near a large window that had a good view of the beautiful landscaping in their limited yard-area.

After giving his car to the valet and getting seated, Vlad glanced at the menu, immediately spying his favorite, rock shrimp tempura. However he looked around to see what else was available. Hmm, he was somewhat in the mood for BBQ Unagi…

"What do you normally get?" Harriet questioned as she looked over her options.

"...Know what? Since this is your first time, maybe we should just get morimoto omakase," Vlad suggested. He gently pushed her menu down so that he could look at it, and he pointed to the option. Harriet scanned the description. Essentially a dish with a little bit of everything.

"Ooo, that sounds good," Harriet mused.

"It's delicious, and it pairs well with white wine," Vlad told her. She smiled.

"Let's get that then," she agreed.

When the waiter came by, they ordered just that. Quickly, the waiter had come back to bring them the bottle of white wine, pouring them their first glass for them before leaving the bottle at Vlad's request. They each took a sip.

"Mmm, this is pretty good," Harriet spoke first. "I typically just get a red wine."

"I do too," Vlad replied. "But white wine goes well with fish." Harriet gave a surprised hum before taking another drink. "You probably know too much about me though. Tell me about your work. Amity News." She nodded.

"Yeah, I'm one of the main news anchors," she replied.

"Oh trust me, I know. I get to watch you tell me the news every day, it's a highlight of the day," Vlad complimented. Harriet rolled her eyes with a flush.

"Alright, cheesehead," she teased. "But yeah, I really love it. When I was younger I really enjoyed investigative journalism, since it let me go all over, but I'm really liking being in one place. Though I occasionally go out on the scene, but it's kinda dangerous to cover ghost fights here. And what we have Lance for."

Vlad snorted. He knew the news man too well. He was, as the kids called it, a meme at this point. He knew Daniel and his friends constantly posted these memes of Lance Thunder on social media, making fun of his on the scene appearances.

"What do you make of all these ghosts?" Vlad questioned. Harriet shrugged.

"Well, they certainly exist. Honestly thought Jack was stupid to try and build that one ghost portal in college. Even though. Ugh, Jack is such a buffoon sometimes," Harriet grumbled. "I still haven't forgiven him for costing me my job in Milwaukee, especially since I used him as a reliable source. Ugh!" She stopped herself to finish off her glass of wine. She exhaled deeply as she put the glass down, half-smiling apologetically. "Sorry. I know he's your friend."

"No, no no," Vlad replied eagerly. "I understand. After all, it was my home he destroyed, remember?" Harriet nodded.

"He had to have done thousands in damage," she said sympathetically. "Especially to your library. Oh, and it was a beautiful library too."

"It was one of my favorite rooms in that house," Vlad sighed. "I rebuilt the room, but it just wasn't ever quite the same. My new library, however, it's simply gorgeous."

"Oh?" Harriet questioned. Vlad took it as a sign to continue.

"It's a two story library, for once, like a true two story library. The lighting is fantastic, but also on a dimmer so the mood can be truly set," he began to describe. "I managed to slowly rebuild my collection of the classics, and there's a wood burning fireplace. Oh and of course, my favorite, the small reading nook with the most comfortable chair you will ever sit in next to a huge window. It's simply perfect."

"Oh, I would probably sit in that nook and read forever," Harriet sighed dreamily. Vlad smiled, picking up the bottle of wine with a raised eyebrow. Harriet picked her glass up, holding it for him to pour her some more. He did so, before refilling his own glass. She took another long sip of her drink.

"I would more often, but unfortunately, it's also the cat's favorite spot, and I can never bring myself to move her," he confessed. Harriet beamed.

"Vlad! You never told me you had a cat!" she exclaimed. "What's his name?" Vlad felt a cold sweat hit him. Wait.

"Maggie," he lied. "When I adopted her, that was what they called her, and it didn't feel right to change it." Harriet nodded understandingly. She set her glass of wine down to dig through her clutch, and she pulled her phone out.

"I have the most handsome little guy, his name's Taggy. Short for Maytag," she said. She showed Vlad her phone, exposing a picture of a grey and white cat stretched out in a cat hammock near a window. But that name...

"...Maytag? As in the company?"

Harriet flushed a bit.

"When I moved into my first apartment, his previous owners had left him, and so my old roommate and I began calling him Maytag after the refrigerator, since he came with the apartment, and we put food in him," she explained. "Then my roommate got married, and her husband's cats didn't get along with Taggy, so I just kept him, and he's moved six times with me since then." Vlad cracked a smile.

"Mad-ggie's name has kind of devolved into me just calling her Princess," he admitted. "I've bought so many luxury cat things for her and beds, the drinking fountain water bowl, wet food, the best vet in all of Illinois. Only the finest."

"I do the same for Taggy, much as I can afford. He's my special guy."

The waiter shyly interrupted them, bringing them each a huge plate of food. Harriet eyed hers hungrily, thanking him cheerfully.

"Oh, this does delicious," Harriet beamed. She took her chopsticks, and grabbed a bite. Vlad took another sip of wine before he did the same. "It tastes great too!"

"You think I'd steer you wrong?" Vlad lightly bragged.

"Who knows," Harriet shrugged. She gave a sly smirk. "You're the one who steered us all so wrong that you got the van stuck in a snowbank." Vlad glared at her, making her burst into snickers.

They ate in silence for a few moments, savoring their meal. Harriet took another long drink of her wine, and Vlad refilled it for her. She gave a smile.

"Thank you," she said. "Do you like your food?"

"Very much so, it's delicious," he replied. "How's yours?"

"Great, I never had such delicious food!" She ate another chopstick full of food. "I guess this is how five star dining is, huh? I made a good date investment. But next time I gotta take you to a diner."

"Oh?" Vlad raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I get the feeling that you eat too fancy," she explained. "Sometimes you just need the greasiest burger and saltiest fries that you wash down with cheap soda."

"Hmm, wouldn't you prefer I take you to a five star steakhouse?" he questioned.

"You can take me there on our third date," Harriet replied. Vlad raised his eyebrow again. "But for date too, I think you need a greasy burger."

"Third date?" he echoed. He took a drink of his wine, finishing it off.

"Yeah, I think you'll wanna take me out again," Harriet hummed. She reached for the wine to refill his glass for him.

"Thank you, dear. But really?"

"Absolutely, I'm a catch," she replied. "I've travelled the world, I'm very educated, financially stable, have my own house, am very pretty." She jokingly flipped her hair.

"Ah, I'd say you're more of a beauty than just very pretty," Vlad mused. Harriet smiled.

"Aww, thank you cheesehead," she replied. "But yes. So naturally, I think you're not going to be able to resist asking me to accompany you out again. I did you a favor by bidding on you, actually."

"We'll see how the night ends, and who's wanting a second date more," Vlad said. "I mean, yes you are quite a catch, but I think you're forgetting who was voted as sexiest billionaire by Cosmopolitan magazine." Harriet nearly choked on her wine from laughter.

"Oh my god, you read Cosmo?" she giggled. Vlad flushed red.

"N-no, I was told this," he insisted. "When I got voted as such." Harriet had to put her chopsticks down, covering her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter. Vlad slammed back the rest of his wine, refilling his own cup.

"Oh man, you really haven't changed all that much." She took a deep breath to get her laughter under control. "Same ol' cute Vlad." This peaked his interest.

"You thought I was cute?" he asked. Harriet flushed, picking her chopsticks back up to continue eating.

"Eh, kinda. In that nerdy sorta way," she confessed. "I tried getting your attention a few times, but you never seemed too interested. You were always really distracted by that portal project."

More like distracted by Maddie, as she was a huge reason why he was so interested in helping with the proto portal project. Remembering the woman of his dreams made him pause. He suddenly felt guilty that he was out on a date. And Maddie's college best friend of all people!

Of course, he had dated here and there. Maddie was, unfortunately, married, so he knew that rationally he had to somewhat try and move on. But nobody had ever truly clicked with him, or made him feel like she had. His mind was often distracted by her the entire time but...until now he had actually forgotten about Maddie.

"Ah yeah, I was...really focused on school," he half-lied, taking another bite of food.

"I could tell. Nerd," she jibbed. "Even now I can tell you're super busy with all your business stuff."

"Not as busy as you'd think, but also yes," Vlad corrected. "I have a lot of meetings to attend and business decisions to make, but I at least get a lot of help and feedback."

"That's true," Harriet said. "But I'm glad we're able to do something now. Even if we just never got around to it back then." She poked at one of her foods with her chopstick before taking the bite. "I mean, I've been kind of all over too. I don't think anything would have even worked out had we even tried something."

"Ah, yes. I remember Maddie mentioning that you were never in one place for more than two months for a long time," Vlad said.

"Yup!" she confirmed. "That's investigative journalism for ya. Takes you all over. But I really liked it. I'm glad I had that opportunity, and that I did it. Don't regret a bit of it."

"Business too," he agreed. "Especially when you're starting an empire. I don't think I was truly home for months at a time, I was going from place to place to oversee offices being built and products being made. Seeing how progress is being made on research. It was a busy first fifteen years or so. I don't think I was truly relaxing and enjoying what I'd made until the past six years or so."

"Yeah, I remember reading about your progress," she said. "Fascinating story. You had such amazing charisma to get all these companies to go with your plans." Vlad felt a bit of a nervous wave hit him, but he didn't show it, or really even have to reply. Harriet had already moved on. "Ugh, this was so good. I can't believe I was able to eat all of this."

Her plate was empty, and he had just taken his last bite.

"Would you like dessert?" he asked. She shook her head no.

"Nah, I'm good. I've eaten enough," she replied. Vlad just nodded, and he called their water over.

Instead of waiting to get a receipt book from the waiter, he simply handed him his credit card. Vlad never checked the bill when he went out to eat. The price tag never bothered him.

The waiter accepted it, soon coming back for Vlad to sign. Vlad quickly did, and for his trouble, he also handed the young man five hundred dollar bills as a tip. It made him nearly tear up and stutter as he thanked him, but quite honestly, it was more to show off to Harriet his generosity more than any genuine kindness, which, judging by her expression, absolutely worked.

Vlad gave him a half smile and waved him off, and the pair collected their things to leave, heading towards the front of the restaurant arm in arm.

"You know, the night's still young," Vlad mused. He opened the door for her, and Harriet slipped through.

"Thank you," she replied. "But oh? You don't have work?"

"Nothing that can't be rearranged," he replied. "Do you?" Harriet smiled.

"Nope, I have tomorrow off. So what are you thinking?" she asked. Vlad glanced at his watch. Hell, it was only ten-thirty.

"Have you ever been to the Amity Park Country Club?" he questioned. She nodded.

"Oh yeah. I've been there as a guest twice, for interviews," she explained. She glanced at her phone. "Doesn't it close soon though?" Vlad chuckled.

"On midnights on the weekends," he replied.

"Hmm, okay," Harriet agreed. "But we won't stay too long."

Vlad went up to the valet, informing him of his car make and model, and the young man nodded, jogging off to fetch it.

"My dear, I'm a high priority member. They'll stay open for me," he insisted. Harriet rolled her eyes.

"The workers wanna go home too, Vlad," she reminded him. "We should be respectful of their time and leave when it closes."

Vlad resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was above having to follow those kinds of petty rules. When you had billions in the bank, you could easily just toss a few thousand out to make workers let you stay past the closing time with no issues. He had never heard a single complaint after he flashed a few thousand, a drop in the bucket for him. But what Harriet wanted, she would get. He supposed, anyway. After a few dates, she'd likely just begin agreeing with him and allow him to bend the rules for her.

After a few dates? Vlad thought on it. Yeah...after a few dates.

"Whatever you wish," he replied.

His car pulled up, and Vlad immediately opened the car door for her.

------------------------------------------------------------

"And it just kind turned into a semi-permanent offer until I got kinda homesick," Harriet finished her story off as she hit another ball with the golf club. Vlad hummed lightly as her ball went off towards somewhere in the dark. "But it was amazing. I'd love to return to China sometime. Kinda unfortunately, Amity Park doesn't really cover international news like that. It's very local only."

"Maybe you should just come with me next time I go," Vlad offered. He grabbed another golf ball from their large bucket of them, setting it on the tee before lining himself up. With an experienced swing, he hit the ball, and it flew off. "To China, I mean. I go there about twice a year or so for business. Sometimes more."

"Ugh, that'd be awesome," Harriet agreed. She leaned over to pick up her drink, a pink margarita, that was resting on the tables that were set up near the driving range. Her jacket and clutch were on the table too, her heels tucked under the table. Vlad had also folded his suit jacket neatly to rest next to hers, allowing himself to also unbutton and roll his sleeves up to his elbows, and the top two buttons of his shirt. He also had his own drink, a rum and coke, that sat near hers. "I can show you all the local spots from my time there."

"Hm, that would be very nice," Vlad mused. He hit another ball. He was somewhat glad that Harriet had talked him out of doing the full course. While he didn't care (and Harriet very much did) that it would have taken far past closing time to finish a game, it was much more relaxing to just do this. Especially with nobody else being around. "I typically do only business."

"Oh boo, that's boring," Harriet said. She already had another ball on her tee, and she wacked it again. The ball went soaring. "What's the point of all your money if you're not enjoying yourself and your life?"

Vlad didn't reply. He focused on another swing. The ball stayed close to the ground, quickly rolling on and on and on before he couldn't see where it went anymore.

"You were married before, weren't you?" Vlad questioned. Harriet snorted.

"Oh, we're already at the 'let's talk about our exes' part of the relationship?" she teased. Vlad chuckled, grabbing another ball. "Eh, for about seven years. Nothing bad happened, we just realized that we weren't really as compatible as we thought. I enjoyed traveling the world and being out, and he was a big homebody that hated planes and trains. Started to realize that I wanted a family one day, he preferred it to be just us. We didn't see each other that much cause I would go cover stories all over, and it just felt like we'd be happier. So we just kind of had a mutual divorce."

"I can understand that," Vlad replied. He lightly tapped his ball twice before swinging the club as hard as he could. The ball straight up disappeared in a blink of an eye.

"So what's your excuse for never having a girlfriend before?" Harriet questioned. Vlad was grateful about the lighting, as he knew that his face was dark red. "Too busy with work, too nerdy, what?"

"I've had a girlfriend before!" he argued. "I've dated women plenty before. Don't you remember Stacy?"

"Nope," Harriet replied. She hit another ball.

"Yes you do!" he insisted. He took a break from swinging, leaning on his club. "I was with her for four years! Out of all the women I dated she was the one the papers and articles talked about the most. Don't you remember all the rumors swirling around about why we hadn't gotten married already?"

"Hmm, must have been a figment of your imagination," Harriet replied, and he exhaled dramatically. He finally noticed the shit-eatting grin, and that she was just pulling his leg. She giggled, grabbing another golf ball. She tossed it up into the air, catching it before putting it on the tee. "Okay, okay. So why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?" Vlad questioned. He took a step towards their table, grabbing his drink. He needed it right about now.

"Marry Stacy," Harriet clarified.

"Eh, it just wasn't really meant to be," he dismissed simply. He took a long gulp of his drink, sighing softly when he finished.

"Oh?" Harriet pressed. He frowned. He should have known that she was going to be nosy about it. Typical journalist.

"...I could tell that we didn't really like each other all that much," he confessed. "We were just both lonely. We would go places together but never actually be together. We lived together but never saw each other outside of bedtime, though towards the end, she began to just sleep in a separate room since our schedules would be so different. We talked about getting married on and off, but...I don't know when it clicked for me that this just wasn't what I truly wanted. I wanted a wife and children that I spent time with and that I loved being with. So we just kind of broke up, and she moved out."

Harriet nodded understandingly.

"At least you realized it before children potentially got involved," she said. "I'm glad I divorced with no children. I'd hate to put them through something like that."

"Agreed," Vlad replied. He picked up another golf ball. Instead of bending over to put it on the ground, he lazily dropped it and hit the ball on the bounce. "How many would you want?"

"Hm? What? Kids?" Harriet questioned. Vlad gave a 'mhm' noise to confirm. "At least two. A boy and a girl. What about you?"

"As many as possible," he said. He got another ball. "I always wanted a big family."

"Hmm, well I'm not a clown car," Harriet replied. "Regardless of how often I'd let a clown like you in." Vlad rolled his eyes. "Besides, you have Jasmine and Danny right? Maddie and Jack's kids?"

"Yeah, they're my godchildren," Vlad confirmed. He reached over for another quick sip of his drink. "I bought Jasmine her car. When Daniel gets his license I'll be getting him one too. And of course, paying for college. I have a few other godchildren too, same deal. I've gotten them all a car and paid for college. Can't let them have any of that dreadful student loan debt."

"Aw, you're just a big ol' softie," Harriet teased. "I'm not a billionaire, so I can't really do the same, but I'm pitching in to help my sister get my niece a decent used car next year. By the time her little brother's getting a car, I'll likely be doing the same."

"You're looking for cars for her?" Vlad mused. "I can get her one." Harriet shook her head.

"No, that's not necessary," she replied. "It's a lot to ask."

"Nonsense, I have the money to spare," he persisted. "A decent used car. Children don't need brand new ones, they're still learning." Harriet bit her lower lip as she pondered the offer.

"We'll discuss it another time with my sister," she said. Vlad nodded in agreement. He grabbed a ball. Their bucket was nearly empty now.

"I understand," he replied. Harriet picked up one of the last balls. She tossed it up in the air and swung her bat. She missed, but she quickly was able to redeem herself by hitting it on the third bounce. "I just hate to see children go without. That's why I was auctioned off, afterall. For the sake of the kids." Harriet gave a skeptical hum, getting another ball. "...Well, you know, if we're going to go out again, I need to make a good first impression on your family."

"That's better," Harriet replied. "If we're going to hang out more like this, we need to be open and honest with each other."

Vlad picked up the last ball. He stared at it for a moment, and he put it on Harriet's tee for her. She shot him a thankful smile, and she wacked the ball into the night.

"There'll be more, right?" Vlad asked.

"Well, if you're free next Friday, we can go see a show," Harriet suggested. She went back to the table, slipping into her heels again. She downed the last bit of her drink. "Local theater's opening weekend is soon."

Next weekend was terrible. Vlad had so much to do that following week that he'd have to spend all weekend preparing for. Many meetings, lots of documents to read and write and revise. Moving anything around would be an absolute headache.

But it could be moved around.

"Sounds lovely," he agreed. He finished off his drink before rolling his sleeves down again. He slipped his jacket back on. "Ready to head home?"

"We have to take the cups and clubs back up to the office," she said, nodding at the country club. Vlad made a face, and he began to protest, but a Look from Harriet made him shut up.

"Alright, alright," he sighed. Harriet grabbed their cups, and he took their clubs.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Next Friday, right?" Harriet asked as they took the final step up onto her porch.

"Yes, I'll call you tomorrow to organize a proper time," Vlad told her. He paused as he suddenly remembered. "One second."

He did a half-jog back to his car, opening the backseat and pulling out a basket. As he returned to the door, it became clear as to what it was. It was the camera bundle she had been bid on at the auction, and she stared at it.

"Here, I had noticed you bid on it. I wanted to make sure you got it," he explained, handing it out to her.

"You bought that?" she questioned.

"Yes, I knew that you'd be outbid. So I just made sure that you could get it," he replied. Harriet smiled warmly, accepting it.

"Thank you," she said. She set it on one of the porch chairs for now. "This was honestly such a great night. Gotta admit, I was kinda skeptical, but you really impressed me."

"Of course, didn't you say yourself that you made a good investment," he joked. Harriet snickered.

"Yeah, but I think even I surprised myself," she said. "I thought I was just going to buy a nice, fancy one dinner, but I'm pretty sure I actually did buy somebody that I'm going to be introducing to my mom." She gestured to her front door. "Did you wanna come inside for a bit? Pretty sure you're too tired to make the long drive home."

"I don't live too far," Vlad replied. "It's about twenty minutes, I can easily get home."

"Oh?" Harriet lightly pressed. "You sure you're not too tired though? Don't need a coffee or anything? Or want to take a nap before you go?"

It finally clicked.

"Ah, you know, I think I would like to rest a bit before I go," he agreed. Harriet smiled, turning to unlock her door. Vlad grabbed the camera basket for her, and they went inside.

[lxme-xss-imxgines]

When the Day Met the Night

Prompt: What happens when polar opposite celestial beings are plopped onto an island alone in mortal form?

Pairing: reader (moon) x jung hoseok (sun) 

Genre: fluff, angst, bad flow of writing lmfaooo n e way 

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: !!!!!! attempted suicide (nothing graphic), SO much angst 

A/N: wow I love the song When the Day Met the Night by P!ATD, so here’s this lil thing. its kind of short but cute ???? Still not rlly sure if I like it or not but yk hahahaha n e way enjoy :)

***

when the moon fell in love with the sun

all was golden in the sky

all was golden when the day met the night

 The moment the sun was created, he knew his job. Begin the day on earth and then bring it to an end. It was simple, as the earth and everything else revolved around him - quite literally. He didn’t really have anything to occupy his time, so he tended to do a lot of thinking. 

One of his many questions, perhaps the one he thought about most, 

“What happens when I go down? Is it just  . . . darkness?”

He didn’t expect that one day, he would get his answer. 

When the sun found the moon

She was drinking tea in the garden 

Under the green umbrella trees

In the middle of summer

He had never thought that he would be anything more than a hot ball of fire in the sky. So when a piece of him detached and began to float somewhere new, he was worried. 

Would he be able to return to the rest of him to become whole again? Where exactly was he going? To bring light somewhere else?

Not quite. 

A voice rings and it startles him as he continues his journey through the universe, just drifting about. 

“Who are you? Where are you taking me?” 

Don’t be so nervous, Hoseok. There’s someone we want you to meet. 

“I- I have so many questions. Who are you? Who am I to meet? Hoseok . . . is that my name?”

We’re everything and nothing all at once; don’t think about it too hard. 

He did. 

You’ll be okay. Rest assured. We’ll talk again on your trip back. 

“Wait! You still haven’t told me-” 

Until later, Hoseok. Enjoy your time. 

A bright light is suddenly visible, almost seeming to bring a light ache. 

He can feel something beneath him, not hard but not too soft either. It was comfortable. Slowly, the light began to dim. He could feel something tickling him, and a sound erupts from him - laughter? Hoseok thinks to himself. 

New vocabulary seemed to rest in his head, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to use it properly or not. Or even what to use it for. 

Over the past few minutes, the brightness in his eyes has completely faded to somehow reveal a pale blue sky with clouds scattered amongst it. 

Is this what they see? 

He looks down at his surroundings, the amount and vibrancy of colors shocking his eyes open even wider. 

The green grass, the multicolored flowers, a fountain flowing ever so softly a few yards in front of his feet. A stone path lay to his right. 

Hoseok prays that no one is watching him as he takes his very first steps ever, as it is quite embarrassing, like a colt attempting to stand for the first time. He takes notice that his legs are rather long - how old is this body that he’s inhabiting? He has no real concept of human age, but assumes in the very least that he is in a fully matured form. 

He thinks he’s safe once he gets a little more confident in his steps, taking it little by little. 

And then he hears the faintest laugh, startling him and he loses balance, landing in the grass on his hands and knees.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to startle you. I didn’t really think I was capable of doing so . . .” 

He wearily looks up to face the owner of the voice, feeling his cheeks heat from his own embarrassment. 

When the moon found the sun

He looked like he was barely hanging on

But her eyes saved his life

In the middle of summer

He didn’t really know what to expect, but he surely wasn’t expecting her.

Long silver hair framed her face, matching her set of silver eyes that were glimmering as she looked down at him. Her skin held a glow, not quite like his, but more subtle. Yet it was somehow more eye-catching, the glimmer that spread across her skin catching every ray of his light and reflecting. 

“I-uh,” Hoseok shakes his head, finally reaching for her hand,”you don’t have to apologize. It’s just kind of embarrassing is all.” 

He pulls himself up with the help of this mystery girl, finally feeling like his legs are his own. 

They kind of stand there for a second, hands still touching as they observe each other. However, Hoseok startles out of it first, pulling his hand away. 

“Um, I suppose you’re who I’m to meet? I’m Hoseok . . . I guess you may know me as the guy that lights up the Earth and what not.” he tilts his head, wondering if he’ll get recognition. 

Her eyes widen like saucers, her mouth dropping open slightly,”You’re the sun? They didn’t tell me I would be meeting you! Oh goodness, I feel so unprepared . . . “ her hands come up to squish her face out of anxiety, and she completely forgets to return the introduction. 

“I, uh . . . can I know your name?” 

She looks up with a small gasp, her hand coming up to hit her forehead,”I’m sorry, I’m such a space case. No pun intended. I’m y/n, or better known as the one who lights up the night, as you would say.” 

Hoseok’s face crinkles in confusion,”There’s someone who lights up the night? But isn’t the night  . . . dark? I mean, that’s what happens when I’m not there, right?” 

The moon’s shoulders drop, any excitement previously held from meeting another being gone. Her eyebrows furrow,”Uh, yeah. I don’t really light it up like you do the day . . . it’s more like a night light. When you go down, I come up. The sun’s job is to provide light and warmth, otherwise the Earth would freeze over. And the moon- well, I really don’t know what my purpose is quite yet. I think I can do something to water . . . I don’t know.” 

She fiddles with her hands and stares at her feet, and Hoseok feels a pang of guilt hit deep in his chest. Why does she know so much about him, yet he didn’t even know she existed? Another being, in the same solar system - was he that self centered? Absorbed and made ignorant by his own light? So swallowed by his own loneliness that he didn’t even consider the fact that maybe he might not be completely alone? 

So he said, "Would it be all right

If we just sat and talked for a little while

If in exchange for your time

I give you this smile?"

 So she said, "That's OK

As long as you can make a promise

Not to break my little heart

Or leave me all alone in the summer." 

“Then we can figure it out together, yeah?” He lets his hand float in the air in front of her, hoping the offer was appropriate. His heart beats in anticipation.

She looks up, eyes widening once again,”huh?”

“Why you’re here, your purpose. We can figure it out together,” he flashes her a smile so bright and warm that she almost feels faint, her head going dizzy. Little did she know, she was having the exact same effect on him. “If that’s alright with you, of course?” 

She hesitantly grabs his hand, settling for just hooking their pinkies. Her lips form a small smile,”I was just having tea under those trees, over there by the fountain. Would you like to join me?” 

He restrained the strong want to smile at her nervousness, which he found strange (only because he’s never experienced it before) but also completely endearing. 

She lightly pulled him toward a table with two chairs on opposite sides, nestled between two trees and only a few short steps away from the calm trickling of the fountain. One side of the table was a glimmering silver, the other a sparkling gold, with chairs to match.  It made him chuckle lowly to himself. 

He pulled out her seat for her before she could even think about it, a blush forming on her cheeks from the gesture. 

He took the seat across from her and watched intently as she poured them each a cup, quietly offering him milk and sugar. He shook his head, regretting it not seconds later when the bitter liquid assaulted his newly formed taste buds, his scowl earning a chuckle from his counterpart. 

He suddenly took notice of the detailing on the table. What he assumed to be a moon is carved into his side of the table, and a sun carved on y/n’s side. 

“It’s supposed to be representative of a yin-yang symbol, if I remember correctly. A symbol of balance. Light and dark, male and female, day and night.” 

Hoseok is quiet for a moment at this revelation before a question eventually bubbles into his head,”Where did you learn all of this? About me, about yin and yang, about tea?” 

She giggles, but he’s not offended by him. He didn’t think it was possible, but his heart warms a little bit more at the sound. 

“You help me find my purpose, and I’ll teach you about all the things I’ve learned. Deal?” she reaches her hand out over the table, anxiety bubbling in her gut at the thought of rejection. He senses her nerves, and if he had the strength to tell her there's no reason to fear rejection from him, he would. 

However, he meets his hand with hers once again as reciprocating the handshake was all he could muster.

“Deal.” 

And so their friendship began. 

Well he was just hanging around

Then he fell in love

And he didn't know how

But he couldn't get out

Just hanging around

Then he fell in love

“Hoseok, be careful not to over-water the plants! You’ll drown them, silly,” y/n rushes over to where he’s standing in the garden, carefully tipping back the watering can before he turns their flower bed into a river bed. 

Hoseok reaches behind his head, awkwardly scratching his neck,”I’m sorry, y/n. The soil was just looking a little dry. I didn’t mean-” 

“Hey, sunshine. It’s okay. If those ones would’ve been overwatered, we can always just plant more,” she gives her usual small smile and carefully takes the watering can from him before returning it to the inside of their cottage. 

Sunshine, one of her many nicknames for him. The difference with this one is that it always seemed to make his heart skip a beat when it left her mouth. 

They had been staying on their little island for about a month and a half now, and they seem to have fallen into a comfortable rhythm of things. Drinking tea together, gardening together, swimming together - there was a small amount of activities that they did separately. 

They both knew it was odd, as they were deemed to be polar opposites and honestly shouldn't be getting along so well. But yin-yang rang true, and they balanced each other out perfectly. 

The only thing the moon did that annoyed the sun at times was something they call her “dark days”. He tries his hardest to understand it, but it’s difficult to empathize with a feeling you never experience. 

Hoseok believes that it’s partially - no, scratch that - he believes it’s completely his fault. 

When they first arrived he’d promised her he’d help her find her purpose, the reason she goes up into the sky at night; with a promise of knowledge about the universe in return. 

Whilst he has received an immeasurable amount of knowledge thanks to y/n, it seems as if he hasn’t made any progress figuring out what she’s here for. He knows she has a purpose, he is 100% certain and he feels it in every fiber of his being. He just hasn’t figured out what exactly it is yet. 

He still feels confused when she shuts herself in her room, and won’t come out for the majority of the day, only revealing herself to grab a glass of water and say goodnight to Hoseok. 

And although he hasn’t quite grasped the feeling yet, he knows that it hurts her. He knows this because it’s what he feels on the days he doesn’t see her, the days she locks herself away. He doesn’t understand why it upsets him so much. 

Today, luckily for both of them, is a good day. Or at least it started out as one. 

As y/n’s eyes flutter open, the scent of something hits her nose. It’s bacon, she thinks - but it just smells a little-

“Oh no,” she practically rolls out of bed, darting into their kitchen to see Hoseok holding a pan of burnt bacon in one hand, the other hand reaching to turn the knob off. 

“Y/n! I, uh, I’m sorry. I was trying to make breakfast for us, but ironically I haven’t really gotten a grip on the whole fire thing yet and-” 

“Hobi, sunshine, it’s okay,” she walks over, taking the pan from him and pouring the grease into a jar before discarding the burnt bacon into the trash.

“You’re not upset?” he questions. He didn’t want to come off judgemental, but there was a day where y/n found a dried out worm on the pathways and proceeded to cry over it for two hours. If she shed some tears over burnt bacon, it would not have shocked him in the slightest. 

“Of course not, you tried your best and that’s all that really matters,” she strokes his cheek slightly to comfort him before returning to make the breakfast he attempted. 

He’s shocked by her upbeat demeanor, but he knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.  

“So, what did you want to do today?” he leans against the counter and watches intently as she places bacon in the pan once more. 

“I’m not sure. Maybe go for a walk? It’s cooler out today,” she close-mouthed smiles, knowing that means Hobi was feeling calm today, that most likely nothing was troubling him. 

“That’s a great idea! Maybe you’ll find a new flower or berry or something!” 

“Always the optimist,” she gives a light sigh as she flips the bacon, almost seeming to go out of focus; something she does quite often, Hoseok has noticed. It was odd, how she’d have this far off look in her eyes and yet still be able to complete whatever task she was working on. Like her body took control as her mind wandered away.

Breakfast continued without a hitch. They ate in relative silence, but it was a comfortable silence. One filled with stolen glances and small smiles. 

After cleaning up, they chose a trail to take their walk on. It was one they’d only been down maybe once or twice, which left hoseok hoping y/n could discover something new. Something to distract her for a bit longer as he continues his research to figure out why y/n is here. 

Sometimes Hoseok thinks that there’s no particular reason why Y/n is here, and he thinks of ways to explain that it would be okay if she didn’t have a reason, if she were to just be existing. But he plays the conversation in his head and he can see her facial expression after the words leave his mouth and then his stomach drops and then he forgets about even bringing it up to her all together. 

“Hoseok?” 

y/n calling his name knocks him out of his thoughts, his eyes landing on her small form. He smiles,”let’s go.”

She shakes her head and giggles slightly,”alright. Onward then.”

He gestures for her to walk first, and so she begins their trek down the trail. This one in particular winds through the woods, cuts through a clearing, and then leads down to the river. Even though they’ve only been down this one a small amount of times, and there is probably other trails, y/n thinks this one may be her favorite. 

The breeze flutters y/n’s dress and hoseok’s loose white button up as they walk through the woods, the only sound heard being their footsteps and the occasional noise coming from an animal. 

“Hobi?”

“Yes, nightlight?” 

She hopes he doesn’t see her cheeks turn red. 

“I know how you say I think too much and I should probably stop doing that-”

“But?” 

She stops for a second, glancing up at him. He notices a second later, pivoting to return her gaze. 

She lets out a little breath,”Do you not think about why we’re here? I mean, if it happened to you the same way it did me, a voice came to you and told you that they wanted you to meet someone, and all of a sudden you had a body and then you were here. I was here for a bit before you, and I thought the worst. I had done something wrong and now I was being banished to spend my life, however long that would be, on this island. Alone. And then you showed up . . . and now I’m even more confused.” 

He can see her eyes starting to glaze over, and his stomach drops. That was the expression he was trying so hard to avoid seeing. Maybe he hadn’t tried hard enough to find out why she’s here. She was upset all over again and it was his fault. 

He takes a step forward,”Y/n, just give me more time-”

“You shouldn’t need more time, Hoseok!” she grabs onto his sleeves, tears starting to flow from her eyes,”The reason why you can’t figure out why I’m supposed to be here is because I don’t need to be! I am unnecessary. You light up the whole earth and bring light and the day, hobi. What do I do? Why did they put me on this cage of an island with you of all beings? So I could feel even worse about myself?”

Her words startle him into speechlessness as he just stares at the tears flowing down her cheeks; he is frozen.

Her hands drop from his sleeves moments later and he still can’t find his voice. 

“Just accept that I’m right, Hoseok. I am nothing.” she sighs once more and turns away from him, heading back down the path and toward the cottage. 

The word nothing hits him like a bullet, so much force he almost actually stumbles backward. He’s suddenly out of his trance, and he marches forward, gently grabbing her shoulder and spinning her to face him. 

“Don’t you dare call yourself nothing ever again. Ever.”

“Why not? It’s true, Ho-”

“I love you! Do you hear me, y/n? I am in love with you. Do you think that if you were nothing, if you meant nothing I would fall for you like I have? Do you know how insulting it is to have you call the thing I love most nothing? That is the last word I would use to describe you.” 

“I-I’m sorry. But . . . that still doesn’t explain why I’m here. This isn’t about you, Hoseok. I understand the whole universe revolves around you and everything, but just because you fell in love with me doesn’t mean I have purpose all of a sudden. This doesn’t change anything.” 

Her voice shook the whole time and tears kept leaving her eyes, all signs saying she didn’t mean a damn word she was saying - but to the sun, it felt as real as it could. 

She walks away once more, and it wasn’t until she was out of his line of vision did he realize his cheeks were wet with hot tears. 

One week later

Hollow. 

Hollow is how Hoseok feels. 

He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He has never felt this in his entire existence before. 

Does he talk to her? Plead with the universe to return back to his place in the sky? Lay in his bed for the rest of eternity and wallow in self-pity? 

The last one seemed the most appealing. 

“You are the sun, Hoseok. The fucking sun for god sakes. And you can’t even manage to convince the girl you love that there’s purpose for her existence. Why isn’t my love for her enough? Why isn’t the way she makes me laugh, the way I get butterflies when I look at her . . . why isn’t that enough? Is this how she feels?” 

Hoseok sits up as realization hits him like a freight train. He knows why she’s here. He’s finally figured it out. 

***

Light knocks on wood are heard throughout the otherwise silent cottage as Hoseok’s knuckles rap against y/n’s door. 

“Please come out. I- I really need to talk to you. I think . . . no, I know now. I figured it out, if you just- y/n? Why haven’t you started yelling at me yet?” slight worry settles in his stomach as he reaches for the doorknob, confusion filling his head as the door opens easily. 

The room isn’t a mess as it had been previously, as y/n had a tendency to have her things scattered about. It was almost unsettling how clean and organized everything is. And sitting on her nightstand next to her bed is a folded piece of paper that makes his heart drop. 

He hesitates to pick it up, but reluctantly opens it to see that it’s addressed to him. 

“Dear Hoseok, 

I am sorry. I can no longer bear the weight of having a physical body in which my consciousness resides. They won’t let me return back to my place in the sky where my celestial being is currently, so I must find a way to force them to. I just want you to take one thing away from this, if anything; 

This is not your fault. I should not have given you such a big responsibility. It was my journey to embark on and I could not handle it, and I should not have expected you to be able to. Please do not blame yourself for the demise of my mortal body. 

Thank you for everything. 

Love, y/n” 

The letter is crumpled into his fist as hot tears stream down his face. He begins to rip the letter into pieces and notices something. 

“The ink is smearing . . . this has just been written  . . . oh no,” he drops the remaining pieces of the letter and dashes out of the cottage. “If I were y/n, where would I go?”

He suddenly feels something wet on his face, and looks up to see a dark sky. It’s always sunny here. What is happening? 

“The moon . . . pulls the tides. She’s going to try and drown herself,” hoseok starts running faster than he ever thought possible, trying to make it down to the shoreline in time. Although the island isn’t very large, she could be at any part of the shore. 

Hoping that his intuition will take him to the right spot, he just keeps moving. 

I have to make it in time. I have to. 

Feeling as if his lungs will collapse once he finally reaches the shoreline, he panics as he can’t see her at first. But then he hears her, sobs racking her body. 

Most of her body is submerged in the icy water, only visible from her elbows up as she sits in the sand. 

He slowly approaches her, going in until the water hits his knees,”Y/n?” 

“They won’t l-let me, Hoseok. They won’t let me,” another sob escapes her mouth, her shoulders shaking. 

“Won’t let you what, nightlight?” he murmurs so soft he almost thought she couldn’t hear him.

“They won’t let me die!” a deep breath leaves her,”I can’t die. I can’t return to my home. I’m just stuck. Here, watch!” 

He reaches out for her as she tries throwing herself in the water,  but she doesn’t even hit the surface before the ocean comes rushing back toward her, standing her upright once again. Hoseok watches in awe. 

“It’s yourself, you know. You won’t let yourself die. Because you know that’s not what you’re meant to do.” 

“How exactly am I not letting myself die? Is throwing myself into the ocean not convincing enough for you?!” y/n is inches away from his face at this point, irritated at the complete calmness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, but I was under the impression that it was the moon who controls the tides. I’m not saying you’re doing it on purpose. But deep down, you still think there’s a reason that you’re here. There’s a part of you that wants to live and find out. And I’m here to tell you.”

Y/n perks up at this, although there’s still tears welled in her eyes,”there’s no way you figured it out. You’re just saying that to try and stop me.” 

“I don’t think you understand, y/n. Without you, the whole world would fall out of balance. You know of yin and yang, correct? Warm and cold. Light and dark. Day and night?” 

“Yeah, I’ve read it all. What is your point here, Hoseok?” 

“Love, you bring things that I could never provide. I could never move the tides. I could never shine among the stars like you do. I can never bring comfort during the dark like you. Don’t you understand? Everything shines the brightest when it is darkest. You are loved by so many. I may bring warmth and light. But you bring beauty, comfort, and understanding. Understanding that without the night, we would never cherish the beauty of the dark, and what lies in it. Darling, don’t you see? You are the one everyone truly loves. You bring light in the darkest of times. How can you not see that?” 

Y/n looks as if Hoseok had just slapped her in the face, waves of tears making their way down her cheeks freely. She stumbles forward, almost drunkenly and blinded by her tears, and begins weakly beating on his chest. 

“H-How can I believe you? I-I just . . . What if you’re just saying this because you love me?” she lets out an exasperated breath, finally looking up into his eyes. 

“So what if I am? You don’t think those humans love you almost as much as I do? Or did you just forget everything that I said? That is the whole point, nightlight. Everyone on Earth loves you just as much as I do. You just needed someone else to tell you so that you’d finally believe it.” 

Silence sweeps over the both of them as they breathe heavily, exhausted physically and emotionally. 

“Look y/n, I- 

Hoseok doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence as the force of her body knocks into his, nearly knocking him over. Relief floods his body as he relaxes into her embrace, the sky growing lighter in time with his heart. 

“Hoseok, I’m so sorry I said all of those things to you. I was just so . . . I am so scared,” she sniffles quietly. 

He releases himself from y/n, looking down at her with a confused look,”Scared of what?”

“Of loving you. And everything that comes with it. But I, um, I think it’s much too late for that.”

Hoseok’s eyebrows shoot up, a beaming smile coming onto his face,”are you serious? You- you love me? You actually love me back?” 

“I think there’s a better term for it, the humans use it to differentiate between platonic and romantic feelings. I don’t just love you, sunshine. I am in love with you.” Her hands come up and rest on his cheeks, his doing the same. 

“Uh, I, is this where -”

“Oh my stars, just kiss me already you dork.” 

The legend says that the upper beings were so pleased, the sun and moon were allowed to stay on their island together for the rest of eternity. 

All was golden in the sky

All was golden when the day met the night. 

The End

[ichigo-daifuku]

Biblical Sense

Obey Me! Fanfiction [Read on AO3]

Angel!Lucifer/Succubus

Frustrated with the state of affairs surrounding his father's rule in the Celestial Realm, Lucifer the Archangel descends to the human world with a purpose: to commit a transgression against the Most High and soil his virtuous hands.

There, he meets a succubus who leads him to engage in a different kind of corruption altogether, one defiling the virtue of chastity.

Explicit | Pre-Canon, Introspection, Mentions of Canon-Typical Violence, One Night Stand, Oral Sex, Loss of Virginity, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Blasphemy

Contains references to Lucifer's Devilgram Story, The Glory Days. 

Word Count: 7k

To know someone in the biblical sense is to have sexual relations with them.

In the beginning, the Morning Star descended from the Celestial Realm.

Engulfed by the brightest of the lights, he came down from the night sky like a shooting star. A thud resounded from his feet the moment they landed on the human world’s soil. He folded his wings, their brilliance fading as he switched from his armor of light to his casual clothing and assumed his human-like form. Alone in a garden, the darkness brought by the current time in this realm made him blink a few times, his eyes adjusting to this change for a moment while the chirping of crickets filled his ears.

Lucifer the Archangel stepped out from the shadows, fallen leaves crumbling under his feet with every step. Rumors had brought him to this place—rumors angels weren’t supposed to hear yet he was privy to due to his status. A wishing fountain stood in the middle of the courtyard, a little demon in its zenith wearing a hat and holding a pot that trickled the water down to its base. Surrounded by trimmed hedges, the scent of red and white roses hung in the air in the most intoxicating way possible that he could imagine the taste of rosewater on his tongue. Though calm and composed on the outside, the normalcy of this wicked place took him by surprise. He expected something more… sinister.

Beyond the maze of the courtyard, a mansion that could only be described as lavish stood. Its exterior’s grandeur was all he needed to see to know that whoever was residing in it was far from impoverished, but he supposed that would be the case for this was a territory of demons, the creatures of indulgence. He made his way closer to the mansion, noting no sign of anyone except for the lights illuminating the windows. His hands balled into fists, he stood in front of the tall doors, unable to bring himself to swing it open and be done with his purpose in a minute. However, his dilemma was short-lived as the lock clicked, the door creaking as it opened.

A woman revealed herself from beyond the wood, her stature barely reaching his shoulders. Long tresses cascaded over her back, the straps of the cotton white nightdress she wore hidden by the locks of hair falling on her shoulders, the hem reaching the middle of her thighs. Barefoot, she cradled two objects with her hand and separated them when she had let go of the knob.

“Apple?” Unfazed by his sudden appearance, she offered the fruit inside her outstretched palm to him, taking a bite of the half-eaten apple on her other hand.

It was unlike any regular apple he had seen before; a considerable portion on top of it purple while the bottom looked a regular green. Suspicious, he narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”

“Don’t you think I should be the one asking you that question?”

Lucifer shot her a glare to which she responded with a sly smile curving up her lips. 

“A premium item found exclusively in the Devildom, Princess’s Poison Apple. Despite its name, it’s safe to eat,” she took another bite, the crisp sound an evidence of its freshness, and swallowed before adding, “and delicious.”

She loosened her fingers on the apple and shifted her wrist sideways, the movement leading his attention to shift from her face to the movement of her hand. On reflex, he reached out his palms and set them together to catch the fruit, the gravity of his actions dawning on him the second the deed was done. Pleased with the turn of events, she chuckled and raised her own apple as if she was saying a toast for their meeting and chewed on another bite.

It wasn’t Lucifer’s first time to encounter food from the Devildom, and it wouldn’t be his first time to partake in it. He brought the fruit closer to his face and inhaled. No strange scent emanated from it. He parted his lips and took a bite, the sourness of the apple and an unexpected sweetness blended perfectly with it satisfying his palate.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” she asked and spun around without waiting for his answer. “Come inside.”

Her nonchalance and her every action so far irked Lucifer, but he couldn’t complain when they worked in his favor for he would never admit to this strange apple being delicious. He bit into the apple once again and stepped inside the house, sealing the door shut behind him.

With quiet footsteps, she led him up the staircase and into a series of corridors. Portraits of females, both in demon and human-like forms adorned the walls, a variety of depictions of horned women performing illicit acts with mortal men alternating with them. He shook his head and sighed, finding these poor excuses of art tasteless.

“Ever been to the Devildom?” she asked out of the blue, neither looking back nor slowing down her steps.

“That’s none of your business.”

In truth, Lucifer had been to her world. Darkness prevailed in the Devildom, and he could still recall the way mud went flying everywhere and soiling his armor when his feet touched its ground. Up to this day, it was one of the worst experiences he has ever had, and he made sure that this fact was known to his hosts. Still, he had no reason to share the experience with this stranger.

“I’ve never been to the Celestial Realm myself,” she told him.

“For a good reason.”

“What was that?”

“Demons such as yourself have no place in the Celestial Realm.”

“I see. So, you really are an angel.” She faced him but continued walking backward, the spring in her steps an indication of her liking the confirmation of her suspicions.

He had just spit out an insult directed to her and her kind, so why and how was she, at the very least, unoffended? “How did you know?”

“I can feel it, the purity radiating off you.” She halted in front of one of the rooms, turning from him and opening the door. “It’s impossible to ignore and so… enticing.”

It was the same for him. An aura of evil radiated from her presence, masked by the fragrance of roses. He was unsure where it emanated, from her body or from the garden outside, but he recognized the sweet scent of it all too well: temptation.

She ushered him inside a drawing-room that matched the lavishness of the house’s exterior. A candelabra chandelier illuminated the space together with the lamps on the walls, the fire in the hearth contributing to the light and providing warmth to the space. The giant mirror hung menacingly by the bookshelf caught his attention at once. On the corner of the room, a sleek grand piano rested, an untouched chess game across it. An intricate table with matching plush seats served as the room’s centerpiece.

“Welcome. Feel free to sit wherever you like,” she said and exited the room, leaving him to observe the place for himself.

Out of curiosity, he wandered around, passing by the mirror and getting a glimpse of his reflection. He looked quite weary, he thought, but nevertheless, alert and ready for anything. Casting those thoughts aside, he strode to the bookshelf and scanned the spines for their titles, judging the residents of this house through them.

Before he knew it, she returned with a tray of refreshments and arranged them on the table. Swirls of steam flowed from the matching pair of teacups as she poured the fresh brew inside them. Beside each cup, a slice of sponge cake waited while other baked goods were also in the middle of the table, ready to be eaten.

“What is that?” Lucifer marched over to her direction and asked, his tone both cautious and accusatory.

“You might have already heard of it, but it’s called black tea.” She paid no heed to his unfriendly behavior and continued, “Teatime wouldn’t be complete without pastries, don’t you think so?”

He set his half-eaten apple on the tray and sat down. “There better be no strange ingredient in this, demon.”

An amused laugh bubbled from her lips. “I promise you, there isn’t.”

After serving the refreshments, she took her cup and saucer with her hands and sat across him, blowing the steam for a second before taking a sip. It was only when she had begun indulging in her slice of cake that Lucifer sipped his own tea, assured that he would not drop dead if he were to partake in whatever she had served him. He couldn’t help it; her hospitality left him unsettled. The brew was flavorful, yet he held back compliments and set the cup down. The lightness of the sponge cake would be the perfect pair for it, and he picked up his fork to take a portion but was halted midway by her query.

“You’re not going to say grace?”

“No,” Lucifer threw back irritatedly. It didn’t cross his mind to say grace at all, and the small victory on his part satisfied him.

“Interesting,” she commented and indulged on a forkful of sponge cake, dabbing the corner of her lips with a napkin.

Lucifer disliked how she was treating him like a spectacle. He was no creature for a demon’s amusement, and he had an urge to let her know of this fact, seeing how unguarded she was acting around him and how pleasant she was treating him. With complete sang-froid, this demon was underestimating him, but he wasn’t about to make the same mistake. He sized up his opponent and weighed in his options.

She picked up her teacup and leaned back in her seat, still as relaxed as ever. “Why are you here?”

“And if I told you I am not here for anything?”

“You wouldn’t have found this place if you weren’t. This mansion is a succubi’s den,” she stated and sipped her tea. “And in the human world, too.”

“A succubi’s den?” The rumors proved to be true; this was a place established by demons, but the fact that it was by the succubi was an unknown tidbit to him. He refused to imagine why the succubi needed a place like this in the human world, but with one of their kind sitting in front of him, images of these female demons—including her—preying on unsuspecting mortals made their way into his mind so vividly that he had begun to wonder if the incubi had established something similar.

“Yes. Every being that comes and goes from this place is here for life’s carnal pleasures.” She crossed her legs, giving him a glimpse of the skin on her upper thighs, which he couldn’t decide if she intended to do or not. “So, tell me, angel, what is it that you are here for?”

Angel. She spoke the word in a way that it was almost like an affectionate pet name. He hated it. The implication of her statement sparked wrath within him. “You have no right to speak to me that way, vile succubus.”

To his surprise and further vexation, she didn’t even flinch at his tone or insult. “Do you want to leave?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He would not. He wasn’t going anywhere until he had accomplished his goal. Once he had set his eyes on something, he would consider it done, and this wasn’t an exception.

“Alright. Let’s enjoy our tea?”

For a while, nobody spoke. The clink of the ceramic as she set her teacup down accentuated the pin-drop silence. He started eating his food in an attempt to collect himself and think rationally, as he always did. She let him be, filling his cup once she noticed it was empty and doing the same to her own.

As she placed the teapot down, Lucifer found himself saying, “To begin a rebellion.”

“Hm?”

“You asked what I am here for,” he replied, “that is my answer.”

He clenched his hands, the forlorn faces of his younger brothers etched inside his mind, the memory of the tears streaming down his sister’s face so crystal clear to him. So much has happened, and though his siblings were a messy bunch at times, they didn’t deserve this. It was the last straw. It was time to put an end to their suffering.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Shameless creature. Why don’t you stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?”

“True.” She chuckled and placed her elbows on the table, folding her fingers together and setting her chin on top of them. “An angel is going to sin. How lovely.”

There it was again, her fascination with him that bothered Lucifer so much. It made him want to expose her true colors—her nature as a demon—and push her buttons to make her lose her cool.

“Aren’t you concerned for your well-being?” he challenged, giving her a hint of his intentions.

“That depends. Are you here to kill me or are you here to sleep with me?”

“You seem to be rather calm about the first prospect.”

“I’m not going down without a fight if that’s what you mean.”

“I’d be disappointed if you would.”

She stretched her arms and stood. Wordlessly, she made her way to the piano and picked up a ribbon he hadn’t noticed earlier from above it. Her fingers deft, she stepped in front of the mirror on the wall and gathered her hair. The delicate skin on the nape of her neck as she encircled her locks with the bow and tied it piqued his interest, and she met his eyes through her reflection, unsurprised that he was already staring. “Battle me, then.”

Lucifer had been scrutinizing her every movement, noting gracefulness up to the smallest of things. The challenge she issued took him out of the trance-like state he was having, and he internally chided himself for letting his mind wander.

“How very foolish of you to propose such a thing,” Lucifer replied. But also very bold, he didn’t say. He gestured over the laid out chessboard on the corner of the room. “Very well. Be my opponent in a game of chess.”

“A game of chess? That’s strange, but sure. If I win—”

“You don’t get to make the rules, succubus,” he said with a glare. “If you defeat me, I’ll spare you and leave, but if I win, I’ll choose what I’ll do with you.”

“I didn’t know that angels had it in them to be so unfair.” She turned around, pleasantly surprised. “But since everything about you is so irresistible, I agree to your terms.”

Irresistible. She wasn’t the first demon he had the chance to encounter, but everything she said threw him off. The sight of the hair behind her back bouncing as she strolled to the chessboard attracted his attention, but this wasn’t the time to dwell on his initial impression of her. He followed suit, aiming for the dark crystal pieces he had always favored over the light and clear variations. It seemed she was in agreement with this as she immediately went behind the clear pieces and sat down.

“Ladies first,” he urged.

“My, what a gentleman you are.”

Foolish demon. He was giving her a handicap, yet all she was thinking of was how much of a gentleman he was? She was careless. The two of them sat closer now as compared to when they had their refreshments. Lucifer’s eyes darted from her to the chessboard she examined, clearing his throat the moment he found himself distracted once again. Her dainty fingers moved a pawn forward to another square, and the game officially began. Strange as she was, it didn’t take long for her to ask him questions.

“Is it true that it’s eternally daytime in the Celestial Realm?” she queried once it was her next turn.

“What do you think?” he fired back absentmindedly, deciding on which piece to move. He broke into a pleased smile as he made the first capture and eliminated her pawn, placing it on his side.

“There it is,” she pointed out.

His eyes flickered from the chessboard to her. “What?”

“Your smile. It’s radiant.” She smiled in return and chuckled. “You seemed tense. It’s fine. There’s no one for you to impress here. It’s just me.”

“You know nothing.”

“You’re right about that, I don’t. Are all angels this stoic?”

“Is that an insult?”

“Only if you consider it one,” she quipped. “Well? Are they?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Good to know.”

If there was anything he learned from his loss in another chess game with a certain demon, it would be underestimating his opponent. She might look all innocent and conventionally attractive, but she was still a demon; a cunning creature of the dark who existed to bring disorder and chaos, wreak havoc among the three worlds, and exploit the weaknesses of her enemies. He just knew she was setting a trap somewhere and fooling him, but to his frustration, all she did was continue firing one question after another.

“Do you have any siblings?”

“I have several brothers and a sister.”

“I see.”

Her lips curved into a frown as she calculated her next move. Up until that moment, she had been nothing but all smiles, but the seriousness in her demeanor caught his interest further. She moved a rook in silence. Every time she asked him something, he assumed she would share about herself, yet she never did. How odd.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Hm?” She raised her gaze at him, pausing her competitive train of thought. “You could say my fellow succubi are my sisters, in a way?”

He nodded, considering the thought. In his long existence, his one and only sister has caused him so much trouble, but she was the dearest and most precious angel of all, the one he and his brothers adored and doted on. All that aside, he could only imagine how life would be like with a lot of sisters. At the furrow that made its way into his brows, she began laughing. For an evil creature, the peal of her genuine laughter was similar to carefully crafted notes in a musical piece, and Lucifer found it hard to believe that he was able to make such a comparison.

She proved to be a worthy opponent, he would give her that, but not good enough to beat him. Despite her assumption that she has a chance of winning, he captured all of her pieces with only a few to spare on his own. 

“Checkmate,” Lucifer stated proudly, ending the match.

Her shoulders slumped in defeat as she stood and sauntered to the tall window, gazing over the courtyard. Lucifer concluded that she must have known the moment he stepped foot on the succubi’s property. His train of thought was cut short as the breeze billowed her hair and the skirt of her nightdress, the curtains in rhythm with them, hiding and revealing her from his sight in flashes. The moonbeam illuminated her form in the most unearthly way, and his throat bobbed as he took in the sight to behold. At that moment, she was far from the horrific creature that he assumed she would be, but the certainty that she was a demon—a succubus—stood out, for she possessed a beauty so sinful that he had no doubt only a being meant for seduction could be so alluring. Like he was being summoned by a siren, he stood and followed her, the air highlighting the fragrance of roses which, right now, in all the senses he possessed, felt holier than incense.

“Do it,” she dared as she lifted her head to look his way, the fire in her eyes telling him that she truly wasn’t going down without a fight.

This night was the turning point in Lucifer’s life. In the clash against his father, his siblings needed not to stain their holiness nor stand beside him; he was prepared to do this on his own. Still, he had a hunch that they would follow him for all of them had always counted and trusted his decisions, but if that were to happen, as their eldest brother, he needed to be the one to take the brunt of everything, especially this initial step. Determined, Lucifer would soil his hands in an act of disobedience to his father. His holiness was one of the main ideals that tied Lucifer to him, and Lucifer would sever it and burn the image his father expected of his son, tainting his purity and showing his father that he was no longer his child. His father, all-knowing and all-powerful, would know at once when Lucifer would appear before him that Lucifer disobeyed. As his father organized the appropriate chastisement meant for him, Lucifer would face him without regret and declare, I will no longer follow you.

Lucifer would scale the heavens, and above the stars of his father, he would set up his throne. He would ascend above the tops of the clouds. In the process, he would leave no stone unturned. Always true to his convictions, he vowed to reach his end goal, and this was a leap in the path he was walking on.

To soil his hands with another’s blood or to defile the virtue of chastity; she had asked him earlier which one he was here for, and though he evaded the question, she was able to tell which was the answer in the end. In truth, he had only had the former in mind. The sin he aimed to commit was murder. A demon would be dispensable, he had decided, and it wouldn’t matter if there were one or a hundred demons in this mansion; he came prepared to destroy all of them with his bare hands, and if he were to be severely outnumbered, he was equipped with the dagger hidden in his coat. It turned out, she was alone. This succubus would be no match against him, a high-ranking angel, one of those who wielded the most power in the Celestial Realm.

But in the game of seduction the two of them played the second their gazes connected, the wide eyes that had stared back at him with intrigue when the door opened held him captive. He was the one who was no match for her.

Lucifer has had enough denying it; he coveted her. She would be his ruin.

He took her by the wrist and pulled her against him, unable to discern what sort of unholy spirit was taking over his body but meaning every word as he whispered, “Sin with me.”

“What?” she exclaimed, bewildered. She was expecting him to strike and fulfill his original purpose, not coax her into giving in to her lecherous desires. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“You refuse me?” he clarified disbelievingly. This succubus, a creature who lived and breathed concupiscence, was rejecting him, Lucifer the Archangel, and his proposition. “You dare refuse me?”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, angel. This is difficult for me, maybe even more than it is to you.” She glared and shook her wrist from his grasp, staggering backward to put space between them. “This wasn’t what you were here for. You were here for your bloodlust, not your lust.”

He supposed it was correct; she was drawn to his light while he was enticed by her darkness. It was true yet ironic that an angel and a demon would be each other’s temptation, but here they were, the very manifestation of the iniquitous idea. 

His resistance thrown out the window, Lucifer stepped closer and pulled her in again, trapping her body with his by the window. He slowly dipped his head, his heated gaze connecting with hers in a silent challenge while hers searched for an ounce of hesitation in his choice, her resolve faltering when she found none. The tips of their noses brushed, and her eyes fluttered closed, his own doing the same at the first caress of their lips. She kissed him back, pliant and eager when his tongue slid to the seam of her lips and met her own, satisfying each other’s curiosity but awakening another hunger altogether.

She pulled away, close enough that their lips barely touched but still shared each other’s warmth. “You’re actually serious about it?”

“I want you,” Lucifer stated as he traced her collarbone with his fingertips, cradling her shoulder with his other hand.

“I…” She averted her gaze. “I want you, too. Of course, I do.”

“I know. Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” he stated, the blush on her cheeks telling him as much. “Where’s your room?”

“Right across this—”

That was all he needed to know. He wasted no time and took her hand in his, leading her to her bedroom. Once inside, he removed his gloves and coat and hung them on a chair, his vest following suit. As he loosened his tie and pulled it off, he chuckled at the feeling of her gaze boring into his back and pointed out, “You’re looking at me so wantonly.”

“I think I’ve been doing that for quite a while now…”

He turned around and strode closer to her, giving her a challenging stare. “Show me what’s been running inside that mind of yours, then.”

She reached out and unbuttoned his shirt, taking all the time in the world and savoring the slow pace of revealing his skin. With hesitant fingertips, she brushed over the contours of his abdomen, moving upward to splay her hands over his torso before taking his shirt by the collars and discarding it. She kept quiet and continued to take in his appearance up close. Warm palms reached to cradle his cheeks and slowly moved to touch the hair on the sides of his forehead, coming back to trace his jawline. Her touch was gentle, and her was voice full of reverence as she said, “Everything about you is so radiant.”

A strange feeling washed over him and caused his skin to flush, and he sought her lips again before she had the chance to notice. He carded his fingers through her soft locks and caressed the nape of her neck, his palm sliding over the small of her back to draw her closer. She broke the kiss and pressed her lips on his shoulder, moving down to his chest and his abdomen, worshipping his form. With a glance at him, she sank to her knees, and Lucifer has never seen a more beautiful sight. From below, her hands worked to remove his footwear and undo his trousers, baring his body completely. At first, Lucifer thought that she undressed him for her eyes to have something to feast on, but all he found in her wide-eyed gaze was awe, as though she was a firm believer of a deity and was looking at one. He liked that; it stroked his ego and made him feel powerful.

It gave him a sense of pride.

“Open your mouth,” Lucifer commanded.

She swallowed but responded by doing as he asked which satisfied him, immediately knowing what he wanted. Her lips parted, she took the tip of his hard cock in her mouth and ran her tongue across it. Slowly, she slid his length further, all the while holding his stare, and her head bobbed forward and backward as she sucked him with zeal and innate talent that suggested her nature as a sexual being. He closed his eyes and marveled at the sensation in his groin, her hand that grasped his base running up and down in rhythm to the ministrations provided by her lips and tongue. How could something so sinful feel so heavenly? It was too good in the way only forbidden things could be, he was unsure if he could get enough of this feeling.

Caught in the haze of sensual pleasure, his eyes fluttered open and found her doing something which… displeased him. Lucifer cradled the back of her head with his palm and urged her to take him further, testing her limits. “Are you touching yourself? Who told you that you could do that?”

A strangled noise of surprise and confusion rumbled from her throat, making him release the groan he had been trying his best to hold back. She retracted the hand that was nestled between her thighs and placed it on the floor to steady herself instead. Satisfied, he released her and wiped her wet lips with his thumb, urging a response.

“I wanted to,” she answered haughtily, panting, “that’s why I did it.”

“Come to me, evil one.”

Her legs wobbly, she stumbled as she stood and braced herself with her hands on his shoulders. Lucifer let out a sigh of disapproval but proceeded to take her by the waist and hook her legs around his hips, carrying her to the bed. He undid the ribbon in her hair, leaving it to splay over the sheets like a grand halo, and between the two of them, it was difficult to differentiate who was the angel and the demon. The hem of her nightdress hiked up by the sudden motion, he leaned back, and his gaze traveled downward and was welcomed by the sight of her sex, dripping for him through the fabric of her underwear. After a curious swipe of his finger over the cloth, he said, “All you needed to do was ask, and I would have done it for you.”

She whined, shifting her hips in search of friction, her voice so pleasant in his ears that he yearned to do more to hear it again.

Did she add a dose or two of aphrodisiac in the black tea she served him? In the Princess’s Poison Apple she liked so much? Lucifer couldn’t recall, but he was positive she didn’t. He could find no explanation why he was being like this, his whole body blazing with arousal for this woman. “Or better yet…”

He tugged her underwear and slid it over her legs and feet, discarding it to the side. The longing to see the entirety of her led his fingers to trace her legs and slip the nightdress over her head. He was no stranger to the sight of a woman’s body, but it was the first time he stared at one with open desire. She was a true creature of sin. The idea that he would be a notch on her bedpost ruffled his feathers. It shouldn’t matter. No, it didn’t matter. It didn’t bother him at the slightest. A casual affair was all they were to each other, nothing more and nothing less. Unable to deny his yearning to acquaint his skin with this stranger’s own, he parted her legs. She obliged with a moan, her fingers shivering with anticipation as she encircled his shaft and stroked him before guiding him to her entrance. He slid inside her, groaning, but as he went on further, the tightness and the exquisite clench of her walls around him led him to an unbelievable conclusion. “You… You’re a virgin?”

“Don’t say it like that.” She turned her head away, covering her flushed face with the back of her hand, her chest heaving. “It’s not as if I’m completely innocent. I’m a demon, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Then, why?” he asked, unsheathing himself from her and leaning back, confused.

She pulled away from him and sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around her naked body, vulnerable at her confession. “You could say that tonight is my initiation. My fellow succubi brought me to this world to lure a mortal man, seduce him, and become a full-fledged succubus.

“It’s all garbage to me. If I fail, I would be deemed unworthy and become labeled as a regular demon, and if worse comes to worst, I could die at the hands of my kind, but then again, I could have done so with yours tonight, and it wouldn’t have mattered. I’m still not going down without a fight.”

As these customs were unknown to him, the possibility of her strange sense of purity being intact was something that never crossed his mind. From the burning need in her gaze to the passion in her touches to the ardor in her kisses… This succubus was a temptress through and through, and yet...

She equated his quiet moment of contemplation with disgust. “We’ve accomplished your purpose tonight, haven’t we? If that’s all, you can leave.”

��No,” he growled, the audacity of her dismissal offensive to him. Lucifer grabbed her by her hips and returned her to where she was before—where she rightfully belonged tonight. Despite her assumption, he found it quite the opposite. To be the first one to bring this creature to the highest of the highs for the first time in her existence, he felt gratification and triumph. He pinned her wrists over the mattress and hovered over her, regarding her with both want and need, intent on finishing what he started thoroughly. “Don’t tell me what to do.” 

“But you… I… I see.” Her eyes flickered from his grasp on her to his carnal gaze, understanding. “Do you enjoy that? Do you like being in control?”

“Yes. Very much so,” he admitted.

She nodded, and as if she was repenting for her behavior, he felt her surrender and submission as her whole body went lax underneath him, giving him permission to do as he desired. Lucifer rewarded her with a kiss, an absolution she was more than happy to receive, her body quivering with anticipation for more.

And so, Lucifer knew her.

He parted her legs, aligned himself against her slick entrance, and once again eased his length inside. She shut her eyes, her eyebrows furrowing and moans falling past her lips with every inch of him she graciously received. Once he had fully buried himself inside her, his body tensed as he kept himself from unsheathing himself and thrusting into her again and again with wild abandon. 

Breathless, she opened her eyes and wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him to continue. “You don’t need to be so gentle. I’m not one to break so easily. I can handle you.”

At the reassurance, he found no doubt in her capability to do so, and for that he was glad. He was done holding back. “You asked for it.”

Guided by his primal instincts, he slammed inside her relentlessly, the grasp he had on her wrist tightening as his every thrust grew in intensity. It was a connection of two troubled souls: an angel and a devil in an act of consummation outside the sanctity of marriage. As he sank into her and her hips met his every movement, they crossed the line between the sacred and the profane. It was as if both of them were each other’s tools. Tonight, he was saving her by ruining her, and she was ruining him as a catalyst for his rebellion. But at the same time, no event in his existence has ever felt so intimate. A decision made with his free will, this was the night he welcomed the dark side he didn’t know he had, or perhaps, he has always had but laid dormant inside him—too enamored by his light to show up, but now shining in its own in the company of darkness.

At the frenetic pace of the meeting of their bodies, her hands clenched into fists, and she trembled underneath him and climaxed. No painting hung on the hallways did this moment justice: the sweat on her forehead, her reddened cheeks, her swollen lips—everything about her screamed unadulterated lust. Every detail dissolved into white light as he chased his own peak. His eyes shut, his jaw slackened, and his cock pulsated inside her with his release, leading him to loosen her wrists from the restraints of his palms.

As she took him in her embrace, found his lips with her own, and shifted their positions for another bout of their illicit liaison, she freed him from the noose surrounding his neck that was his halo. He should be feeling the darkness of the pit, yet he has never felt so high, the pure bliss that any promised land could never compare to taking over his whole being.

Lucifer had sinned.

And he saw that it was good.

Lucifer strode through the mansion’s courtyard, navigating through the zigzag of the maze as if it was second nature to him. The fragrance of roses stronger than ever, he sped past the fountain with the little demon, the water giving off a beautiful sparkle as the night slowly met the day. Soon, he was at the spot he landed on a few hours ago. As he was about to change into his natural form, a voice halted him and made him turn around.

“Wait!” the succubus called.

She emerged from the exit of the maze and ran toward him, barefoot, wearing that white nightdress again and smiling when she found him waiting for her.

Why wasn’t she wearing any sandals? Did she traverse in the maze with those bare feet of hers? Lucifer didn’t care, but through the confusion, he asked instead, “What are you doing here? Why did you follow me?”

“Here. These are for you.” She waltzed over to him and took his gloved hand in hers, securing the handle of the picnic basket she held in it. “More Princess’s Poison Apples and black tea leaves.” 

“I didn’t ask for these.” He attempted to hand the picnic basket back to her, but she shook her head and stepped out of his reach. 

“You liked them, I think, especially the apple,” she told him. “Who knows when you’ll get another chance to have a taste of this Devildom fruit? You’re welcome.”

He frowned, wondering if she was teasing him for trying to hide that fact. The picnic basket remained in his hand. If there was anything he learned in the few hours that he had known her, it was that she was not one to back down so easily, no matter what the circumstances were, including this one.

She roused him from his reverie by saying, “If you are already this beautiful in your human form, then I can only imagine how beautiful you truly are in your natural form.”

He masked his startled reaction with a sigh. Her assumption reminded Lucifer that she was unaware he was heaven’s most prized. To her, he was an angel who was about to stir trouble, and that was all she knew. He couldn’t believe he had almost forgotten that fact, but he still managed to admonish, “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Not if I’m being honest.”

“Vile succubus.”

“That’s me, angel.” She laughed and cleared her throat before continuing, “It’s none of my business, I know, but whatever you’re planning, it’s a big deal, isn’t it?”

He kept quiet, refusing to dignify her question with an answer.

She nodded, neither prying nor asking more. “It’s okay. I wish you the very best of luck.”

“I need no luck to succeed in it.”

“Maybe not.” She ambled closer to him and stood on her tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips. “Take care. You know where to find me.”

How dare she brush her lips against his on her own accord, those lips he had so thoroughly kissed? How dare she suggest that the night they shared would have a repeat one day? How dare she suggest that he should seek her for another tryst? Though these questions plagued his mind as he gazed at her retreating form, a part of him knew deep down that she was someone he wouldn’t forget. The night he shared with her was a memory that would be branded inside his mind to last until the end of time.

It was the moment he had shifted his life into a new path with the defiance of his father’s insufferable orders and expectations. His transgressions—his blasphemous behavior—were serious matters his father would never let slide, and his fellow angels, the righteous and holy, would condemn his failure against morality. However, things had changed. All of those he had once loved about himself and now hated and strived to get away from no longer rooted his feet to the authority of someone else. He was no disciple who merely followed, and he would say no more prayers and sing no more praises. He existed no longer for his father’s purpose, but for his own. The sheer power of individualism spurred his ambition for he was now the master of his own fate and nobody else. He would no longer be invisible under his father’s shadow for he would assert his own greatness and take pride in his own merits.

“Be not afraid.”

“Why would I be afraid of you?”

Lucifer laughed, assumed his natural form, and spun around, the shining aura emanating from his wings faltering for a second before retaining their brilliance. He turned his head and took one last peek at her awed and stunned expression from above his topmost wings before he lifted his feet off the ground, leaving a beam of light in his wake as he went farther. Against the morning air, he flew high and soared in his own wings, the fragrance of freedom as fresh as the morning dew on the roses and leaves.

As the light slowly faded, she managed to collect herself and waved at him from below, wondering when their paths would cross again, if they ever would. When she saw him no more, she turned to leave, but something swirled down from the sky and caught her attention.

With a smile, she opened her palm and waited for the white feather to land on it.

Dawn had broken completely when the Morning Star ascended to the Celestial Realm. Standing in front of the gates of heaven, a revelation struck Lucifer and led him to stop and stare at the picnic basket in his hand.

He did not even know her name.

Special thanks to @photoproses​ for brainstorming with me and for being the first reader of this story.

And thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to read this! 💙

Obey Me! Masterlist

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[betweenpaperpages]

Hear Me Still: Chapter Eight

Summery: A new store-front is set to open on main street in Storybrooke and with it brings new resident Mr. Gold to the center of attention. While he looks forward to this new step in business, it is yet unknown if his deafness will set him back once again.

Beta: @ishtarelisheba

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[Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five][Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven]

Chapter Eight: Safe With Me

_______________________________________________________

“Belle.”

Belle turned the page of her book carefully, her eyes following the flow of words as the narrator continued to speak between the lines of the story. Her free hand wrapped around the ceramic mug of coffee next to her, the heat seeping into her skin as it seemed forgotten. 

“Belle.”

Her eyes continued to track the words, bouncing up to the previous paragraph to reread the twist that threw the protagonist into a new dilemma. 

“Earth to Belle!”

Blue eyes shot up to where Ruby stood in front of her, one hand on her hip and the other grasping the handle of the coffee pot, a single eyebrow raised in question. 

“Were you in a trance or something? I was trying to get your attention for nearly five minutes,” Ruby complained, shaking her head indulgently.

“Sorry, Ruby, sometimes I get so focused I forget the world outside my book.” She laughed. 

“Reading something good then?” Ruby asked, leaning forward over the table to take a look, only for Belle to flip it shut and hold it up, putting up the cover of Jane Austin’s Pride and Prejudice for display. 

“Oh.” She deflated, looking disappointed. “I thought maybe you were reading something… spicy.” Ruby offered Belle an over exaggerated wink to push her point across. 

“Only you would think to read that material in public,” Belle commented, shaking her head affectionately. 

Ruby gave a shrug, shifting her weight to the opposite hip. “Small towns, limited options, what can I say? Everyone has needs, even bookworms like yourself.”

Granny stepped out from the kitchen to find her granddaughter, a well-worn apron wrapped around her dress with matching oven gloves on her hands. “Ruby Anita Lucas - I need you behind the counter, I have to get these pies out of the oven.”

“I’m just refilling Belle’s coffee, Granny.”

“Her cup isn’t as deep as the ocean! I need you back here. I don’t have eyes in the back of my head and I can’t have these pies burning,” she reprimanded her granddaughter. Ruby huffed, her shoulders drooping. “I’ll be right there!”

Granny offered Belle a warm smile and a wink before disappearing back into the kitchen, presumably to save her bakes from the oven. 

“How about drinks tonight? Rabbit Hole at eight? First round is on me,” Ruby offered, finally refilling Belle’s coffee mug. “Count me in.” 

xxxxx

The Rabbit Hole was not the classiest place in comparison, but for a small town dive bar, it did its job well enough. If you looked past the occasional drunk patron and the ill-placed dart board, one could even say it was alright. 

The smell of spilled beer and rush of heat from the summer weather greeted her as Belle entered the bar. She received a nod of greeting from the bartender where he stood cleaning the counter next to where Leroy was having a drink. She returned it with a quick smile before heading back to the usual table they occupied, finding Ruby already there with a drink in hand. 

“Getting started without me, Rubes?” she asked, hanging her purse on the knob of the chair as she took her seat. 

Ruby laughed, raising her drink to be on display. “Hardly! This is my first one. I invited Anna out, but she’s in the bathroom.” 

“Great! I haven’t had the chance to see her lately with the summer programs running at the library.” 

“You need to take more time for yourself,” Ruby pointed out. Belle couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the comment. “I take plenty.” “A soak in the bath with a glass of wine and a dirty romance novel don’t count as personal time,” Ruby pointed out, pushing a gin and tonic across the table to her. “Maybe if we get you hooked up with someone you’ll dedicate yourself less to work.”

She shook her head, her curls rustling behind her shoulders. “I love my job. Besides, we all know how bad my dating history is. Do we really need to add to it?” “What are we adding to?” Anna asked as she walked up and took her seat, setting her drink down. 

“Belle’s dating history,” Ruby answered. 

Anna squealed excitedly, “Oh! We can do that! Should be easy enough.” 

“I don’t want to add to it, Anna,” Belle pointed out. “I want to end it. I’m tired of one bad date after another. I want something to last long term.” 

“Like true love!” She sighed dreamily, clasping her hands together. 

“Hold onto your glitter, Sparkle Pants.” Ruby laughed, patting Anna’s shoulder. “Not everyone can land it like you did on your second swing.”

Belle laughed lightly, stirring her drink with the straw. “Didn’t Kristoff actually ‘sweep you off your feet’ because you nearly fell into the college fountain?” “It still counts,” Anna protested, crossing her arms under her chest and pouting. 

“And he loves you very much,” Belle commented, smoothing over any of her ruffled feathers from their teasing. “How is your sister’s, by the way?” Anna relaxed quickly at the change of topic, instantly forgiving her friend’s light-hearted jabs. “Her love life? On hold for now. Elsa wants to finish her PhD before she even considers the notion.” 

“I understand that.” Belle nodded in agreement. “Hard enough just to balance everyday life with studying, let alone romance on top of it.” 

“Well, since you're done on that front, it just means we can focus on the second part now!” Ruby announced, once again redirecting this on her target. 

Belle rolled her eyes, busying herself with taking a long and deep sip of her drink as she watched the two of them. Might as well let them have their fun for now, she thought. 

Belle set her drink aside, standing with a stretch of her shoulders as she decided to rack up one of the pool tables for a game. Anna and Ruby seemed to need a minute to put their heads together in private to discuss their strategy and gather a list of options for Belle’s love affairs. 

Just as she finished racking the table and applied chalk to her pool cue, the two of them had completed their notes, popping up to present their case. 

“Okay, we got this! We have a compilation of who could be your true love,” Anna announced, holding up a napkin with various notes scribbled across it. 

“Or at least your next one nighter,” Ruby interjected. 

“Ruby!” Belle called out, her cheeks pinking in embarrassment.

The taller brunette simply shrugged. “Like I said, everyone has needs.”

Anna cleared her throat to get their attention, holding up the bar napkin to display it to Belle, watching her as she leaned against the pool table. 

“Number one on the list, Dr. Archie Hopper. He’s mild mannered, very sweet, loves dogs and has a successful career.” Anna offered up their first choice, listing their reasoning. 

“Number two,” Ruby pitched in. “Will Scarlet. He’s hot, not to mention hot, oh and he’s also hot if you didn’t know… Oh, and he has an English accent,” she pointed out, waggling her eyebrows. 

“And number three,” Anna continued, “August Booth. Everyone finds him handsome, he is a writer, and he has always been chivalrous.” 

Belle humored her friends as she heard them out, spinning the pool cue between her hands as they finished. “Those are my options you two have found?

“Well, the top three at least... Jefferson came in fourth place, but he can be pretty eccentric,” Ruby noted. 

Anna giggled in excitement. “So, what do you think?”

“I think Dr. Hopper is very nice, but I can’t say he’s my type. Will is still in love with his ex and everyone knows he’s completely heartbroken,” Belle answered, taking a moment to think. “As far as August is concerned, I don’t know him well enough, but he seems to be taken by his typewriter.”

“What about Jefferson?” Anna offered up, reaching for success. 

“That would just be awkward. I’m friends with both Jefferson and his daughter, that would change our dynamic a lot.”

Ruby smiled behind her glass as she took a drink. “I wouldn’t throw that out the window. Have you seen a shirtless Jefferson? It could be a good change in dynamic.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. 

Belle shook her head, reaching back to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I don't even want to know where you saw that.” 

“Fair enough.” Ruby laughed, grabbing a spare pool cue from the rack to line up the first shot. 

“Ooh, the loser buys the next round!” Anna announced, following over to watch the match. 

xxxxx

A fair few drinks and a couple games of pool later, the girls were certainly enjoying their night. 

On the other side of the bar, other town residents were trying their best to enjoy their night, as well. 

Marcus had closed the shop for the night and taken care of errands while Jefferson had a father daughter night at home. Rather than interrupt their time, he had decided to have a drink at the bar to relax, thinking that the night cap might provide a calmer night than he had previous. 

Drinking was something he was always careful about. In his previous line of work, he had seen people turn to it as a crutch far too easily. It was a dark path to watch someone spiral out of control with it and he didn’t fancy finding himself in the same position. 

It was the first time he had come to the Rabbit Hole and he was thankful that the bartender had little interest in holding a conversation with the lone drinker. Rather, he seemed to keep himself busy with filling drink orders and cleaning his work space. 

No one enjoyed a nosy bartender. 

Rather, Marcus’ attention was focused on the same pair the bartender seemed to have a casual interest in. They had been at the opposite end of the counter before he came in and despite the music, the pool games, and the general chatter in the space - even with his hearing aid volume turned down - he was sure he could hear the two men from a mile away. 

Keith Nottingham slammed his glass back down against the bar top, tossing back the end of his rum and coke.

“You’re better off without that cheating bitch, at least now you’re free to get some real ass,” he pointed out, rubbing the stubble of his beard. He turned and tapped his glass twice on the bar for another round. 

Arthur grumbled under his breath as he complained about his ex-wife. She had barely sent him the divorce papers before she was already in another man’s bed.

He folded his arms and shook his head. “In this town? Knowing you, I’d be getting your sloppy seconds.” 

“Fine, then. You can sit here and sulk, and in the meantime, I’m going to find some better company for the night.” 

Keith grabbed up his fresh drink with a grin, watching as Belle leaned over the pool table to line up another shot in the game. He already knew whose company he wanted for the night. 

He got up, leaving Arthur to deal with his own problems. As he walked up behind the petite brunette, it seemed that her two friends had excused themselves to make a phone call outside.

Keith knew an opening when he had one. He leaned over her back while she was focused on lining up another shot in her pool game. 

“You’ll never make the pocket at this angle, babe. Let me show you a better one…” he whispered, running his fingers down her spine towards her backside. 

Belle gasped, jumping at the unexpected touch, the butt of her pool cue to smacking into Keith’s gut as she spun around. The unexpected jab to his gut forced him to let go of his grip on his glass as he clutched at his stomach, the drink flying forward as the liquid contents spilled down the front of Belle’s dress before the glass hit and shattered on the bar floor. 

“Keith, what the hell!” Belle exclaimed, taking in her soaked state.  

“Whoops, sorry babe,” he answered, brushing the incident off as he took in the view of Belle’s dress.

The top of her dress clung to her like a second skin, the light color fabric losing its opacity as it exposed the lines of the bra beneath. 

Keith grinned, his eyes traveling in a particular direction as he spoke again. “Why don’t you come back to my place and we can get you out of that wet dress?” 

From the counter, Arthur let out a wolf whistle at the sight. Sure he had his own problems to deal with, but he certainly wasn’t going to miss out on a free show when it was put on display so well.

Belle had opened her mouth to tell him off as the weight of a thick knit cardigan landed around her shoulders, large enough that it fell around her front to cover her wet bodice. 

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” An accented voice cut in as Marcus stepped in between them, forcing Keith to take a step back. “I’m quite sure she can take care of herself,” he commented. “Whether you are capable of taking care of yourself is another matter.” 

Before Keith had a chance to sputter anything back, Marcus had set his hand on Belle’s shoulder lightly as he led her away back to her table, leaving Keith to deal with the broken glass and the irritated bartender. 

“Are you alright, Miss French?” 

“Yes… Yes I am. Thank you,” she answered, gripping onto the sides of his cardigan as she held it around herself. 

“Think nothing of it,” Marcus answered. “If you like —” 

“Oh my god, Belle! What happened!” Ruby called out as she jogged back to their table. “Are you alright?”

“You’re soaked through and there isn’t even a fountain in here!” Anna added, grabbing up their note napkins from earlier as she started to pat her friend dry. 

Marcus smiled to himself as he slipped his hands into his pockets, taking the chance to excuse himself from the bar. He was right - Belle could take care of herself, and she certainly had enough additional help. 

Belle nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. I just got soaked from Keith’s drink when he—” 

“When he what? I can’t believe the nerve of him. I’ll… Wait, whose sweater is that?” Ruby questioned.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Help Wanted (chapter 3)

Huge thanks again to @minky-for-short and @spiky-lesbian who continue to be amazing beta readers!

Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3, it really helps

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

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Caduceus loved it when little kids would come into the Blooming Grove. It didn’t happen all that often, most of his customers were students from the academy or the nearby art school, coming in talking about their projects or dissertations, magic runes scrawled up their arms in biro and paint under their fingernails. But every so often, usually on sunny afternoons, parents would come in with strollers or tiny, pudgy hands held securely in their own, coming from the park or the fountain or the markets. The little ones would soon find themselves thoroughly spoiled, pressed with free cookies and cakes to go with their juice, the tall, nice man behind the counter always eager to listen to their nonsense and coo over whatever treasures they clutched. He kept a box of toys over in the corner for them to play with, picture books to read and there was always a napkin within reach when one was needed.

There were some skills you couldn’t shake, even if your siblings were miles away.

He was just helping a little drow toddler clean off some cookie crumbs before his mothers could notice when there was a yelp from behind the counter, accompanied by a loud hissing like some immense dragon.

“Caddy! Help! Emergency, Captain!”

“You don’t have to call me that!” Cad gave the little boy a pat on the head and went running over.

Fjord was being enveloped in bursts of steam that smelled like burnt coffee, belching from the ancient coffee brewer, coughing and waving his arms in an attempt to stave them off, “I told you, Caddy. Helga hates me.”

“She does not hate you,” Cad insisted, wading in and turning dials and pushing levers back up, slapping his palm against the sides in a particular rhythm.

Eventually it worked, the steam abating and the guttural hissing stuttering into silence. There was a final worrying rattle and a small tide of black, steaming, bitter sludge plopped from the dispenser into the waiting cup.

“Ew,” Cad’s ears flattened and his nose wrinkled, “Okay, maybe Helga does hate you. What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Fjord sounded indignant but clearly, like Cad, he was barely holding in laughter, “I tried to follow your instructions but I couldn’t remember them and I couldn’t find her manual…”

“She doesn’t have a manual, I bought her at a flea market,” Cad shook his head, slapping the immense bronze machine a few more times before nodding in a satisfied manner, “That should do it. What was the order?”

“Cinnamon coffee,” Fjord scratched at his jaw, still giving Helga a scandalised look.

“Right,” Cad moved to grab the right jars from the small, mismatched army of them that cluttered the bench, “Did you put the cinnamon in with the beans or did you add them separately?”

Fjord paused, eyes widening and jaw slackening in realisation, “Ah. The wrong one.”

Cad chuckled, nudging him lightly with a bony elbow, “Don’t worry. You’ll get it next time.”

For some reason, that seemed to make Fjord shrink a little, like he’d been expecting another step but his foot had found thin air instead. But only for a moment, then he was smiling again.

“Well, it’s my mess so I’m definitely cleaning Helga tonight.”

Cad let him have that, waving him back to work his usual magic with the customers so he could finish the drink. It had been a few months since he’d started working here and Fjord was clearly strongest when he was interacting with people, a relief seeing as conversation had never been Caduceus’ strong suit which he supposed came of growing up in the middle of the forest with only six other family members, talking to plants more than people.

In fact, Cad had learned a lot about Fjord, seeing him nearly every day, working elbow to elbow with him. He hummed while he worked. He didn’t like huge bits of onion in his food but if it was cut up small, he’d never notice. He’d gone to high school with Beau and Jester and become friends with Molly and Caleb and Veth through them. He’d been a sailor since he left school, speaking about the waves the same way Caduceus spoke about the forest. He always had a battered paperback in his bag, bought from a thrift store, even if there’d be no time in the day to read it. He woke up early and stayed up late, living on an amount of sleep that would have Cad wilting like a tulip in the heat. And he really needed a haircut but seemed in no hurry to get one.

Cad found himself filing away every new thing he learned, despite telling himself his crush had been a brief thing, just something silly his brain had spat up in amongst all the stress and change. Fjord was handsome, of course, but he was also becoming his friend on top of his employee which was way more important. He wasn’t going to put him in an awkward position by blushing like a teenager every time he opened his mouth. It wouldn’t be fair to him.

And besides, there was Avantika.

She was rarely in the cafe itself, which Caduceus couldn’t help but be grateful for, as selfish as he felt over it. Even so, her presence was felt almost every day, in the way Fjord would come in muttering under his breath, agitated and red faced, still reliving an argument he’d left behind. Or in the way he’d get calls sometimes that he would get anxious about taking, dropping whatever he was doing in the cafe to answer them coming back apologetic and shamefaced, with a tension in him that hadn’t been there before. Or the way clear up would run late- usually because the two of them were talking and laughing or Fjord was showing him a new song on the radio- and he’d sigh resignedly and head out for the bus stop rather than getting a lift from her. He never said anything directly about it but the pieces weren’t hard to put together. Fjord knew Cad would offer to drive him home and he also knew he wouldn’t be able to say no. And there would be something unacceptable about that, some rule broken by that action that he didn’t understand.

There seemed to be a lot of rules in Fjord’s...whatever he had with Avantika. One of them seemed to not be speaking about her at all, Cad had to base everything on what Fjord said with his muscles. He’d always been able to read that language better than anything, realising what people were trying not to say more than what they were actually saying. And he had learned shortly after that that people didn’t like it when you would state what it was out loud. He’d been working on that since coming to the city.

But no matter how many times he told himself it was none of his business one way or the other, that he needed to keep his broad, flat nose out of his new friend’s affairs, Caduceus did care. He did.

Fortunately, the rest of the Nein also cared and seemed determined to talk to him about it.

Beau and Caleb were in the cafe at the moment, as Caduceus tried to soothe Helga and get her back in working order by thumping his fist very carefully around her casing. They tended not to sit down when it was just the two of them, usually just on a pit stop in between class and a library session. They took different classes, of course, but they studied together which Cad found very strange, as they seemed to constantly bicker whenever they were within five meters of each other. Maybe they really didn’t know anyone else even remotely studious. Their significant others certainly wouldn’t qualify.

Fjord was taking orders, efficiently and smoothly, putting them together with barely a pause. He’d really been getting good at this, even in such a short space of time. Cad could see why he’d been so good on ships. Any task he was given, he threw himself into it fully until he’d mastered it and could move through it confidently. Cad barely ever had to show him something twice.

Thinking that he had this in hand- it was still an hour away from lunchtime, they were still in the ebb rather than the rush- Cad slipped over to Caleb and Beau, where they were leaning against the tall stools up against the counter, probably already arguing about something complicated to do with magic. Cad didn’t understand what there was for them to learn about magic for so many years. You just thought about it, asked nicely and it happened?

“Morning,” he rumbled congenially, setting their cups down in front of them. They came so often, he’d just started taking their own travel cups and filling them. Beau’s was scuffed and scratched from being shoved deep into her backpack with all her stuff, the logo of the Cobalt Soul still just about visible, clearly a freebie from her orientation nearly three years ago. Caleb’s was covered in cartoon kitty paw prints. Both were filled with black, incredibly strong study session grade coffee brew. Cad refused to sell them more than three cups a day, five cups a day during finals week.

“Hey, Cad,” Beau was bouncing on the balls of her feet, like she was shaking out all of her energy before having to stay still for an extended period of time.

“Good morning Caduceus,” Caleb had eyes only for his coffee, making grabby hands towards it before Cad had even passed it over.

“Only three, remember,” the firbolg warned him, not liking the look on his face, “I am keeping track.”

“I know,” Caleb said meekly, trying to look restrained and a little less like an addict, just taking one small sip before lowering the cup, as if to prove he could.

“Saw Fjord nearly send your coffee machine up in smoke,” Beau leaned a bandaged elbow on the counter, tipping her cup in the direction of the half orc, now chatting companionably with an elderly dragonborn woman as he put her granola bowl together.

“Easy mistake to make and no harm done,” Cad smiled in the same direction, just to himself, “He’s actually doing brilliantly. Starting to forget how I managed without him.”

Cad’s gaze was elsewhere, being much less subtle than he thought, so he missed the glance exchanged between Beau and Caleb.

“So, uh…” Beau leaned forward, bringing Cad’s eyes back her way, “You and Fjord, you get on well, huh?”

Cad was frowning over that, confused as to why she’d ask that when it was obvious, when they were both interrupted by a chime from Fjord’s apron pocket. The apron Cad had made him, done exactly to match his height, with waves stitched along the hem. He’d been delighted with it.

It went just as it always did. Fjord seemed to shrink in on himself a little, jaw tensing, teeth closing on his lower lip. He gave the woman her change quickly, eyes darting to Cad, gesturing apologetically and pointing at his pocket questioningly. Cad gave him a wave, there was no one else at the counter anyway.

Now Beau’s face was dark as thunder and even Caleb had a disapproving set to his jaw, like he’d swallowed something bitter other than his coffee.

“How many times a day does he get calls like that?” he asked, watching Fjord’s back disappear around the corner to the back room.

Cad shrugged, “A few. More some days than others. I’m not counting.” It wasn’t strictly a lie. He was trying not to count.

Beau muttered something into her cup that sounded unkind. When Caleb gave her a look she threw her hands in the air, nearly sloshing coffee on the wooden floor, “What? You know I’m right! She’s checking up on him like he’s a naughty kid!”

“I am aware,” Caleb sniffed, “And I don’t like it any more than you do. But we said we weren’t going to say that kind of stuff when he’s around.”

“Oh come on, he can’t hear us,” Beau rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.

Cad looked between the two of them anxiously, already feeling guilty but too curious to go and do something else, “So...you guys know about his girlfriend? Avantika?”

“Girlfriend is a strong word,” Caleb allowed, while Beau snorted derisively in the background, “More like...force of mutual destruction. Part time nemesis. Live in life ruiner.”

Caduceus wrinkled his nose, “Oh…”

“They’ve been like this since high school,” Beau’s lip curled, “They both got deep into this really dodgy patron, you know, how most people do at that age? Neither of them had a great childhood and it kind of just happens that way. Fjord started to have second thoughts once he became friends with us but she kept dragging him down into it. We all thought they were done when Fjord signed up with the Tide’s Breath, the ship he worked on? But now he’s home and they’ve just fallen right back into making each other miserable and making our lives shitty into the bargain!”

“That doesn’t sound...healthy…” Cad said slowly, taking his tail in his hands and wringing it anxiously.

“It’s not!” Beau slapped Caleb’s arm, “See! Cad gets it!”

“Ow! I’m on your side!” Caleb protested, rubbing his arm, “We all are!”

“You’re ridiculous, I barely touched you.”

Cad sucked in a breath, “People sometimes do things that don’t make sense because they don’t see that it’s hurting them. Or because something else is hurting them more and listening to someone else is easier. Even if what they’re telling you is bad.”

That got him an eerily twin set of concerned looks. Cad realised that maybe that should have been something he kept to himself, one of those things that made conversations awkward.

“We sort of get why he’s doing it,” Beau eventually said, slowly, “I mean, we’re basically Team Gone Through Bad Shit. Doesn’t mean we like it.”

“No one does,” Cad said quietly, eyes casting down to his tail, still clutched tight in his long fingers, “But saving people from themselves is difficult.”

“Hence why they’re still together,” Caleb murmured, “We know we can’t just go telling Fjord all of this without upsetting him and making things worse.” At that, he gave Beau a very significant look. She gave him the finger in return.

When Caleb ignored it, she sighed and hopped down from the stool, “We need to head out. Just...help us keep an eye on him?”

Cad glanced over. Fjord was back behind the counter, tapping his fingers restlessly on the wood, looking red faced and anxious. Clearly the conversation hadn’t been a pleasant one. Cad thought of all the times Fjord would look uncomfortable when he reassured him or instantly forgave an error or mistake. The way he’d get awkward about compliments, like he didn’t know how to hold them or where to put them. The way he needed to hold his overgrown hair back with a band but every day his tusks were freshly filed down, right to where it had to be painful, just so they wouldn’t be visible past his lip.

He couldn’t have a crush on him, it wouldn’t be fair. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t care about him. Far too late for that.

“Of course I will,” he said softly.

Caduceus was starting to enjoy closing up more than any other part of the day. Everything slowed down, there seemed to be more space to breathe and the whole evening stretched out in front of them, feeling like forever. And it would suddenly be just him and Fjord in the quiet, able to choose their favourite songs on the speakers and talk across the freshly wiped down tables and sing and joke.

It had started off tentative, back in the first few days. Neither of them were hugely eager to talk about the usual ice breaking questions like family, home, where they both were before now. Instead they’d talked in the present, about their interests. Cad had talked for hours about his rooftop beehive before realising he was rambling, except Fjord had still been listening intently, almost as if he didn’t care how much time had gone by. Fjord talked about how he was getting back into the battered old acoustic guitar he played, whatever book he was reading, whatever podcast he was listening to.

But, as it often went, talk about small things became talk about big things without really meaning to.

Tonight, Fjord was wiping down the tables and Cad was moving from plant to plant, watering contentedly. As he worked, the half orc was explaining some interesting historical magic experiments he’d been reading about in a book Caleb had lent him.

“...I used to think that kind of stuff was so interesting when I was younger. How people know what they know now, how all these big ideas became fact, y’know? Used to have all these daydreams about being at the academy and seeing the places all this big thinking happened…”

Cad looked over his shoulder, interested, “You want to apply to the academy?”

And then suddenly Fjord was tense, awkward, ducking his eyes to focus on the already clean mosaic table top, acting like he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

“I mean, I used to. When I was younger. A lot younger.”

Cad felt the urge to back off, the sensation that they were suddenly standing on some kind of line. But he couldn’t help but feel letting it go would be breaking the promise he’d made to Beau.

“You still could,” he said quietly, “They take students of all ages.”

Fjord still didn’t look up, “I, uh...I don’t think that’s the path for me anymore. I mean, when would I fit it in now? Not gonna be long before I’m back out on the ocean.”

Cad frowned delicately. He had mentioned that a few times, the fact that this was temporary, a stop gap until he found hire on another ship. But there was always something so rehearsed about the way he said it. Like he was copying someone else’s words.

“Paths can change,” Cad allowed after a pause, “But sometimes you can think that way but old loves come back, ones you thought you’d outgrown. And they’re stronger than ever.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience?” The attempt to change the subject was obvious but Cad let him have it. He wasn’t looking to make him uncomfortable.

He smiled softly, fingers gently brushing the almost silky leaves of his yucca plant, “My whole family worships Melora, the Wildmother. Have you heard of her?”

“I don’t think so,” the bridge of his nose scrunched up adorably when he was thinking.

“Not many people have,” Cad reassured him, “She’s mostly for the quiet places, where nature’s grown over the scars in the earth. Places like where I grew up...she was practically another family member growing up, you could feel her everywhere. She’s soft and gentle and kind and there’s nothing she can’t heal.”

Fjord’s expression softened, “She sounds nice.”

“She is,” Cad chuckled wryly, “And I was raised to be her cleric from the moment I was born.”

“Really?” Fjord’s eyebrows shot up and Caduceus could understand why, even as he cringed internally. He’d never mentioned having any kind of magic, he never used it around the cafe except in ways too small to notice. It was quite deliberate. Every time he reached for the well of power inside himself, the quiet place where he could smell damp moss and fresh grass and feel it under his feet no matter where he was, he’d feel a tug of homesickness. Even with the long conversations he’d had with the Wildmother, one sided conversations where he was answered by breezes and bird calls, even with his certainty that he had her support, his magic had a bitter taste to it these days.

“Really,” Cad murmured, hoping Fjord wouldn’t press the matter, “And there was a good few years where I resented the hell out of it.”

“Oh,” Fjord’s eyes widened.

Cad smiled coyly, “I had a full teenage tantrum. Pouting, breaking things, yelling. No one in my family yells… I made a complete fool of myself. It was a week out from my cleric initiation and suddenly I was tired of having all of my decisions made for me and wanted the world to know it.”

“How old were you?” Fjord grinned.

“Thirty five. Just a kid.”

“Oh…so what happened?”

“One night, I got it in my head that I was going to run away,” Cad turned back to his plant, practically petting it, “I packed a bag, climbed out of my window in the middle of the night...I told myself I was never coming back, without so much as a goodbye.”

Fjord had abandoned his table entirely, looking at Caduceus with his full attention, “Really?”

“Yep,” the memory of his own stupidity still made the fur on his neck stand up, “And I would have done it, if I hadn’t taken a wrong turn. I’d lived in those woods all my life and somehow I took a wrong turn, tell me how that happens without divine intervention. But all of a sudden, I wasn’t on the path anymore. I was in this beautiful clearing, waterfall gently bubbling...the place I was meant to take my initiation in a few hours, the very thing I was supposed to be running away from. And it occured to me that I’d been feeling all of this anger and sadness and confusion, it had been tearing me up inside for longer than I’d even realised...and I’d never talked to anyone about it. I couldn’t tell my family, not when they’d had this image of me as their perfect, devoted son. So...maybe I could tell her.”

“And you did?” Fjord sounded a million miles away, Cad lost in his own memory.

“I did. I talked until my voice ran out, until the sun came up. I told her everything and afterwards I felt so...so clean. People had been telling me all my life to follow the Wildmother and I had, because they’d told me to. That night was the night I decided to follow her because I chose to. I took my oath then and there.”

“Wow,” Fjord murmured, “I can’t imagine feeling that way about...anything, really.”

Cad was about to ask how come Fjord had his own patron then, before realising he’d have to explain how he knew that. And then realising he probably wouldn’t like the answer.

Instead he smiled, “It’s always waiting for you, Fjord. For all of us.”

That brought a laugh, the kind he only did when he wasn’t thinking because it would show his filed tusks, “That’s a nice idea, Caddy.”

He grinned back, moving to the next plant, caring for each of them as devotedly as he could manage, each one a growing, green prayer, “It is. Even nicer for being true...the Wildmother helped me realise I wasn’t happy at home, years after that night, when I was actually ready to make that decision. She brought me here, to this cafe and to the life I have now. She helped me not feel so lost. And there’s something out there that will help you feel the same, Fjord. Maybe it’s the academy. Maybe it’s your next ship.”

Maybe it’s here.

The words were on his lips without thinking, desperate to be spoken, straining to tumble into the air between them.

Caduceus swallowed them back. It wouldn’t be fair. And there was no guarantee that saying it would make it true.

“Thanks, Caddy. For sharing that with me,” Fjord’s voice seemed different somehow, in a way he couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe he was just tired.

“You’re welcome… you know you can talk to me anytime, right? About whatever you want... doesn’t have to be work stuff or, um…I mean anything.” Cad winced at himself. How had he gone from being so articulate to tripping over his own feet when he wanted to ask a simple question?

Fjord seemed on the verge of his usual tension when help was offered but then he seemed to shake it off, like rainwater, “Thanks. That means a lot, Caddy.”

Cad resisted the urge to clap his hands. He’d done exactly as Beau asked and made Fjord smile into the bargain.

“Why don’t you clean out Helga? That might make her like you. I can finish up the plants and tables.”

Fjord seemed grateful for the chance to move, like just accepting help had filled him with restless energy, “Oh, I’ll do that! She’s going to end up loving me, I swear.”

“I’m sure,” Cad chuckled quietly as he jumped up and headed for the counter.

He’d make sure they were wrapped up in time for him to get a ride home. One personal leap a day was enough, he felt.

Cad moved to the next plant, a terrarium full of mushrooms he’d taken from the grove, already softly starting to glow as the light dimmed. Just for a moment, he placed his palms on the smooth curve of the glass, the green luminescence filtering through the gaps between his fingers like he held a heart in his hands.

And all he could smell was fresh grass, new fallen rain on green things. He felt his nerves alight with power he’d had inside himself since that promise he’d made. And it felt right.

Cad smiled, leaning close and whispering just in case, “I’m going to keep an eye on him...but maybe you could too?”

The mushrooms immediately grew brighter in his hands, far brighter than they should be for the time of day.

Caduceus took that as a yes.

[avengerscompound]

Blank Space - Chapter 6

Blank Space:  A Scarlet Witch Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Wanda Maximoff x F!Reader Square: @ladiesofmarvelbingo - O3, Slow Burn

Word Count:  1602

Warnings:  Angsty and fluffy with the very hint of smutty stuff

Synopsis:  Wanda has become used to the thoughts of others pressing down on her constantly until one day she meets you. A complete blank space in the world.

Chapter 6

Your lips were soft and in the little bubble of silence you created around the two of you, all Wanda could think about was how nice it felt to have them caressing hers.  How nice it was to have your body pressed so close to her.  Even though she couldn’t quite feel you properly, you were still warm and there was weight to you.  Soft and tender.  She ran her and up your side and cradled the back of your head.

You let out a soft moan and pushed your thigh between Wanda’s legs.  She rocked her hips against it slowly.  Something about the way she could feel and not feel you at the exact same time was like having a feather skimmed over her bare skin.  She broke out in goosebumps and tingled all over.

“You don’t have to do this…” She murmured against your lips.

You pulled back and looked into her eyes.  “Do you not want to?”

“I do.  I really like you,”  Wanda assured you, caressing your jaw.  “I just don’t want you to think you owe me.”

You kissed her slowly and deeply, your tongue slipping into her mouth, warm and wet.  She circled her tongue with yours and you pulled back slowly.

“That’s not why I’m kissing you.”  You whispered.

“I just can’t hear your thoughts.  I guess, I second guess.”  Wanda said.

“You know how I can help with that?”  You asked, running your hands up her sides and cupping her breasts.  “I can tell you.”

Wanda giggled and kissed your neck.  “So tell me.”

You hummed and rolled so you were above Wanda and looking down into her eyes.  “I really like you, Wanda.”  You said and leaned in kissing her neck.  “You are so sweet.  And soft.  And kind.”  Each point was spaced by your sucking on a patch of Wanda’s skin.  Wanda buzzed like a livewire.  She wrapped her arms around your neck and clung to you.  “I worry that maybe my feelings are either heightened or clouded by the fact you are not only the first person who has seen me in eight years, but you’re also so sweet and kind.  But…”  You sucked on the pulse point under her ear.  It sent a shiver through her body and she arched up under you.  “Liking someone because they’re nice to you is an okay reason to like them isn’t it?”

Wanda giggled and rolled you so she was on top and looking down at you.  “Yes,”  She said.  “Liking someone because they’re nice to you is totally fine.”

She brought her lips to yours again.  You kissed deeply.  Passionately.  With all the need and desperation for connection that the two of you had been holding in for so long.  You moaned into her lips and tangled your fingers in her hair.  She ran her hands over you. Caressing your back.  Massaging your breasts.  Squeezing your ass.

You pulled back again, slowly and reluctantly and she chased your lips.  “I think - I think I need to go slow though.  It’s been so long, Wanda.  I need to make sure we’re doing this right.  I don’t wanna rush and ruin it.  I can’t risk losing you.”

Wanda nodded and kissed your lips gently.  “That’s a good idea.  We don’t need to rush.”  She said.  “Just know, no matter what I’m going to help you control this.  And I’m happy having you cuddle in my bed any time.”

You smiled and nuzzled into her.  “Thank you.  For everything, Wanda.”

Wanda hummed and rolled on her side, pulling you close.  “No more thanking me.  Let’s just get you seen.”

The following day Bucky took you and Wanda to his apartment.  He had his spare room set up as a meditation space.  It was a comfortable space with cushions on the floor and space to roll out a yoga mat, but not overly decorated.  Just a scented oil burner, a few crystals, a set of brass wind chimes he had hanging over the air conditioning vent, and a mini deer scarer water fountain that not only added the sound of running water to the room but the steady rhythmic tok of the bamboo when it tipped over.

“Okay, take a seat.  Just, whatever way is comfortable.  I like to sit like this -”  Bucky said taking a seat on a cushion and crossing his legs.  He let his arms relax on this thighs with his palms pointing up.  “Sorry if I suck at this.”  He added, his eyes flicking up to the image projected by the Mumble Bee.  “I’ve never guided anyone with it before.”

“I’m sure it will be okay.”  You said taking a seat opposite him.  “Even if you are bad at it, it might show us the potential for it to work.”

Wanda sat down on the cushion beside both of you and Bucky took a few deep breaths like he was trying to gather his thoughts together.

“Alright.  So for me, meditation helps me focus my thoughts.  It unlocks memories that I’d lost.  Which can be very painful.  I have more memories of bad things than I do of good ones.  But after I’ve meditated I feel a little more in control.  My thoughts are mine and no one else’s.  I think that’s why Steve thinks it will help you.  If you can focus your thoughts and be in control of them, you might be able to redirect the mental push to stop people seeing you.”  Bucky said.  “Or, that’s what he thinks anyway.”

“Alright.  I’m game.”  You said.

“Let’s turn off the -”  He gestured to the Mumble Bee.

You took out the remote and pressed a button and the little egg floated down and landed in your lap.

“Close your eyes.  We’ll start with a body scan.”  Bucky said.

He slowly walked you through a body scan have you focus on your breathing, and how each breath psychically affected you. Then moving through all your body parts, and focusing on each one at a time.  When he was done he changed tactics.

“Become aware of what is going on in your mind in this moment. Observe the thoughts as if they were soft clouds floating across the sky of your mind. Don’t pull the thoughts down to engage them, simply allow them to pass by.”  He said.

He said nothing for a moment and Wanda focused on her thoughts.  It was nice.  They were hers and no one else’s.   That wasn’t usually the case.

“Notice any deeper feelings or emotions that arise. You are not trying to change any of this. Simply observe and hold it in your awareness. Acknowledge that you are not your thoughts or feelings; you are something deeper than that.”

That really hit Wanda strongly.  With everyone else always pushing on her it was sometimes hard to tell what was her and what wasn’t.  But she was much more to her than the thoughts that passed through her head.  She was much more than her thoughts.  She knew that to be true of others too.  People’s thoughts could be so bad, and they were rarely the people they were.

“Now turn your attention to awareness itself. Become aware of your own awareness, the knowingness that lets you perceive all this, the inner spaciousness that holds together all the sensations, feelings, and thoughts that make up your experience in this moment.”

Wanda had never felt so connected to herself as she did right now.  Yet, somehow she could feel where she was in the world itself too.

“Focus your attention on your own awareness. Experience your awareness with your awareness and notice how calming and peaceful it feels. Now gently sit your mind in this place of nourishing stillness. Let yourself ‘be’ that stillness.”

Her body buzzed a little, contradicting the instruction to be the stillness.  Yet she was.  The rhythmic tok of the deer scarer and the tinkling of the chimes was so far off it might have not been there.  It was just her.  She was just her.

“Now gently notice your breathing: cool air coming in through your nostrils, warm air going out … breathing in … breathing out …”  He instructed and Wanda began to come back to the world around her.  The sounds of the room and the people in it becoming clearer.  “Slowly take your time and come back to an awake state.”

The three of you opened your eyes and Bucky smiled.  “Hey, there you are.”  He said.

“What?  You can see me?”  You asked looking down at yourself.

“And… you’re gone again.”  He said.

“Shit.”  You cursed and with a sigh, you turned the Mumble Bee back on.

“But this was good.  Self-awareness meditation helped.  You need to get control of your thoughts.  This is something you can control.”  Wand said.

“Mm … yeah, I think Steve was on to something.”  Bucky said stretching.  “I’ll let him know.”

“I can’t believe you actually saw me.”  You said flopping back on the cushions, a huge smile on your face.

“Believe it.  You’re gonna get this.”   He said.  “I might talk to Nat and Bruce too.  Maybe we can work with hypnosis as well.  As much as I hate them, trigger phrases can be pretty useful for control.”

“Thank you so much, Sergeant Barnes.”  You said.

“Call me Bucky,” Bucky said and got up.  He offered you his hand and didn’t even flinch away when you took it and he pulled you to your feet.  “We’re gonna get this, ladies.”

Wanda stood up and wrapped her arm around you.  You cuddled her, the smile still glued to your face.

// NEXT

[kusunogatari]

[ ObiRyū October | Day Nineteen | Plants ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Hatake Kakashi ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ]

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“You know what you need, Obito?”

Biting his tongue for a moment in concentration, Obito lets the dart in his fingers fly free. It hits the board two inches from the middle, up to the left. “Therapy?” he then replies, scowling at his point total so far. Kakashi is winning. And that’s unacceptable.

“Well...yeah,” the Hatake replies. “But therapy is expensive. I was going to suggest something a little...simpler.”

“Maybe a date, then?”

“You think a date is simple?”

“Ha...true. What, then?”

“A plant.”

“...a what?”

Kakashi laughs, getting up from his reclined position to take his turn. “A plant. I’ve been reading about how they can help a person’s mood by adding something to their environment. Y’know, since we’re stuck here in the concrete jungle.”

Obito can’t help a flat snort at that. “True enough. But I’ve never had a plant before. I’d probably kill it.”

“Get a cactus. You hardly ever have to water it.”

“Will my cat chew on it?”

“Not if it’s halfway smart. Would you chew on a cactus?”

Obito doesn’t bother answering that. “So I get a plant, and...then what?”

“You enjoy it. You do know how to actually enjoy things, don’t you?”

“Plants just...sit there. What good does it do? That doesn’t make any sense, Kakashi.”

“I got one about a month ago. It sits in my kitchen window. I dunno - it makes me smile. To know that there’s something alive, thriving where I live.”

“I already have that with my cat.”

“Plants are different. I have my dog, but it’s not the same. I can’t really explain it, but it really does feel like things are a bit lighter in my apartment. Just give it a try. I think you’d like it.”

Frowning, Obito...doesn’t quite understand. He already has something living in his apartment. Tenebris is great company. Why Kakashi thinks a plant will magically be better is beyond him, but...well, he’ll give a try. “All right, fine. I’ll try to find one this weekend when I’m off work.”

Once said weekend rolls around, Obito keeps his promise and heads to his local farm and garden store. Which...he’s never once set foot in, given he has neither a farm, nor a garden. Not until now, anyway.

...does one plant count as a garden? He’ll say it does.

The store is actually really big, and he hesitates by the entrance for a moment. They...do sell plants here, right? Because he’s not really sure he could manage with some seeds.

A sales associate then asks if he needs any help.

“I’m, er...looking to buy a plant…?”

“All right! Any specific kind?”

“Something...easy. I’m new to this.”

“Sure, sure. Our greenhouse is along the left hand side of the store - just follow the wall and you can’t miss it. Ask for Ryū, she’ll help you out.”

“All right. Thanks.”

Directions acquired, he follows them, passing by a million things he’d never have a use for before making it to the automatic doors that lead into the garden center.

As the doors open, a pleasant aroma reaches his nose. Obito finds himself taken aback. He knows flowers are supposed to smell good, but this is a lot stronger than he was expecting.

This place is huge! Which...he supposes makes sense. A whole section is set aside for supplies: planters, watering cans, sprinklers, even fancy stuff like fountains and statues. A bit outside his budget, let alone the space in his teeny tiny apartment. Then there’s soil mixtures, fertilizers, and concrete border bricks and rocks.

Only then do they get to the plants, and...wow, there’s a lot. Flowers are the vast majority, but he also spots some like berry plants, baby trees and hedges, and decorative plants like ivies and ferns. There’s so many he literally has no idea where to start.

Well...he supposes a good first step would be finding this Ryū lady the guy inside said to look for.

There’s a guy at the register they keep out here, but...he doesn’t see a woman. Maybe she’s hidden among an aisle somewhere? Not wanting to look lost again, he instead tries looking like he’s browsing, peeking surreptitiously into every new row of plants and supplies. Several attempts later, he finds what he’s actually looking for.

Ryū - if that’s actually who this is - is up on a step stool to reach the topmost shelf, rearranging some flowers that he has...no idea what they’re called. She’s wearing a plain brown smock over the store’s uniform, a kerchief helping to keep her hair out of her face, and...wow. Her hair is white…? Reminds him of Kakashi’s, but it’s even lighter, and...wavy! It kinda looks like a poofy cloud around her face.

And then he realizes she’s looking inquisitively at him.

“Oh, uh…”

“Can I help you?”

He shifts his weight, suddenly nervous. She’s actually really...cute? Large grey eyes in a heart-shaped face watch him curiously. “I’m...looking for a plant…”

Stepping down to the concrete floor, she dusts at her apron and then gives a sweet giggle. “Well, you’re in the right place for that! Can you...be at all more specific?”

How to explain… “Well, a...friend of mine suggested I look into it. But I’ve never had a plant before. So I’m looking for something...easy. Simple.”

Understanding alights her face. “I see! Well, I’ve got a few that are pretty easy to keep.” Gesturing for him to follow, Ryū leads him to another aisle. “This is a snake plant! They need very few waterings, and don’t need a lot of direct sunlight in case you don’t have a well-placed window or balcony. Then we have a spider plant. They do like sun, but it’s not a full necessity. They just thrive a bit better that way. When it’s warm they like a good amount of water, but you can cut back when it gets cooler. There’s also...devil’s ivy - they like dry soil. Aloe vera needs good drainage, and a cactus soil is best for them. Then on the other end of the spectrum, nerve plants like a lot of water, if you’re the sort to go a bit overboard!”

Obito watches as she points out all the different plants. None of them have flowers on them, but...well, he doesn’t really mind. Flowers are a bit too feminine for him, anyway. Something simple and green should suit him just fine. But she starts dumping a bit too much information on him, and he flounders. “...uh…?”

Realizing as much, she laughs again. “Sorry, sorry...I tend to ramble. If I were you, I’d try devil’s ivy first. They don’t need a lot of water or light. And they grow like weeds, which is fun! I recommend putting them in a hanging pot so all the limbs can drape down. It’s really pretty. Just be careful about overwatering, as that can bring about root rot. Make sure the soil gets plenty dry before you water again!”

Picking up one of the plants, Obito looks it over. The subtle marbling of lighter green on the leaves is pretty cool. It reminds him of his friend Zetsu, what with his vitiligo. Maybe he’ll name the plant after him. And it’s not too expensive, either. “Okay, I’ll give this one a try.”

“Perfect!”

“Do I...need anything else?”

“You can get an attachment to turn that pot into a hanging one - they’re easy to put on and pretty cheap. Once it grows a fair bit, you’ll need to repot it: to put it in a bigger pot so the roots don’t get too crowded. But that’ll be a while yet. It’s already in potting soil, so it won’t need any fertilizer, either. And you can just water it with a cup, honestly. Unless you feel like getting fancy, you should be good to go! There’s a million guides online if you need more help, too. Never fear looking something up if you’ve got any questions.”

“Er...okay.”

“So...I guess if that’s all you want, we can get you rung up out here, so you can take your new plant baby home!”

Subtly, Obito’s nose wrinkles. Baby…? But he doesn’t complain, following her to the checkout stand after getting a hanger for the planter and paying for his new plant. Then it’s a walk to the bus, a short ride, and he’s back at his apartment.

...now what?

His apartment does have a small balcony that faces to the west - it gets a good amount of afternoon sun. He’ll have to look up how much is enough and not too much. He doesn’t have any hooks to hang it on yet, so...for now, he can just set it on the floor. But will Tenebris bother it?

Speaking of, she’s purring and twisting around his legs as he gets home, looking to the plant curiously. He cautiously offers it for her to sniff. He occasionally gets her those little pet grasses (which never last longer than a week before it dies…), but otherwise she doesn’t get anything green.

After a few sniffs, she declares it inspected and leaves it alone.

...well, hopefully she won’t try and chew it.

Just in case, he fetches a little end table from his room to set it on, arranging it by the glass door to the balcony. The soil feels a little damp, so no need for water. He makes a mental note to get some hooks next time he’s out and about.

...he’ll admit, it looks...nice. And it’ll look even better once he gets it hanging.

For now, he snaps a picture of it with his phone, first sending it to Kakashi with the message, all right, got the plant. happy now? :P

The next he sends to Zetsu. made a new friend today and named it after you. see the resemblance?

From there, he decides it’s about time for some lunch, so...he leaves Zetsu junior by the door and fixes himself some quick food.

And so begins a new routine. After feeding Tenebris every night (and cleaning her litter box, eugh), he checks the plant. A finger gauges the dampness of the soil, giving it a little water whenever he finds it to be too dry. Careful eyes look it over for any imperfections.

...and every time he looks at it, he’s reminded of the lady who sold it to him. What was her name? Ryū? She was super helpful, and...really nice.

...and really cute.

He kind of wants to go back and see if she’s there again. Why, he’s not sure. He doubts he’d have the stones to ask her for her number or anything. After all, their only connection is as a customer and retailer. She was nice because that’s her job: to encourage someone to buy something.

Which he did.

Would she even remember him? It’s been two weeks now...surely he’s lost in a haze of other people she’s been forced to talk to since then.

...but in the end, he decides to try.

This time, he knows exactly where he’s going when he steps into the building. But...he also lingers outside the door for a little while, realizing he has no idea what he’s going to do or say once he gets in there.

And it doesn’t help there’s some kind of a sale going on, so the place is actually a bit crowded. He doesn’t want to interrupt her working: he knows that well enough himself. But he’s already come this far, he can’t just leave now!

So he squares his shoulders, takes a breath...and then heads inside.

Quite a few people mill about, looking at all the wares and plants within the garden center. To help with the load, more employees are fluttering around compared to last time. Everywhere he looks, there’s people.

But where is Ryū…?

With so many others to catch attention, he doesn’t bother trying to hide his searching gaze, everyone too focused on their own tasks to care. He makes a full lap around without seeing her. Did he really manage to miss her, or...maybe she’s not here? Surely she must be! Then his whole trip would be for noth-

“Whoa!”

Rounding a corner, Obito manages to skid to a stop before running into...Ryū! She too comes up short, eyes wide in surprise and clinging to the woven bamboo in a pot she’s carrying.

“...oh! It’s you again!”

Wait, she...she recognizes -? Oh...it’s then he thinks to account for his scars. That would make him memorable.

“The guy with the devil’s ivy, right? How’s it doing? Did you get it hung okay?”

He blinks. “...uh...y-yeah, I did. It’s by my balcony door. Seems to like it there.”

“That’s great!” She gives him a smile. “See, I told you it wouldn’t be so bad! Are you here to get another plant?”

“... uh ?”

“I know it’s hard to stop once you start, right? You could get a second ivy and have one on each side of the door!”

“Er, maybe...actually, I -?”

“If you wait just a sec, I can help you look for one! I need to run this to a guy at checkout, then I’ll be free!”

“Uh -?” Before he can protest, she’s already zipping back to the counter.

This isn’t good. He’s not here for another plant, he’s here to say hi! But now he’ll feel bad if he doesn’t get one...and maybe she’s right. Having a balance would look nice. And then Zetsu junior won’t be lonely. But what to name the other one...Zetsu the third?

As he mulls it over, Ryū manages to return unscathed. “So, what do you think?”

“Sure, I...can get another one.”

“Perfect!” They move to the right aisle, Obito perusing the plants before picking one up.

“So...um…”

“Need anything else?”

The tips of his ears slowly go red. “Well, actually...why I really came here was to...say hi. You were...really helpful before. I appreciated it.”

Ryū blinks, clearly taken aback. “Oh...well, you’re welcome! Thanks for stopping by again! Um…” Her smile then turns sheepish. “Sorry...you don’t have to get another plant, I just...figured that’s what you wanted.”

“No, it’s fine! You’re right, it’ll be nice to have the balance. And it’s...nice seeing you again.”

At that, she suddenly turns bashful, gaze dropping and a hand tucking hair behind her ear. “Yeah...you too.”

...a silence falls. And then -

“Would you -”

“Could I -”

“Like to -”

“Get your -”

“Trade -”

“Numbers?”

As the sentences jumble together, they both come to a stop with a jolt before laughing nervously. “Sorry, um...what was that?”

“Nothing, I just...uh…”

“Um...maybe we could...exchange numbers…? Y’know...just to chat?”

Obito blinks. Did she really just -? “...yeah! Yeah, I - I’d like that.”

“Okay...cool!” She fetches her mobile, Obito doing the same as they add one another. “...there. I guess I’ll have to talk to you later! I better get back to it, or...I’ll get in trouble.”

“Oh, sorry!”

“It’s fine - we’re busy enough I bet no one’s noticed I’m gone yet. But it was nice seeing you again, um…?”

“Obito! And you were...Ryū?”

“Yeah!”

He grins. “...all right, well...see you...later?”

“Yeah...have fun with your new plant!”

“I will, heh. Later.” Paying for Zetsu number three, Obito heads home with a light feeling in his chest. That...went far better than he could have dared to hope.

He’ll have to tell Kakashi he’s one step closer to getting that date, too.

     This...could be longer but it’s late and I’m tired :’D Meg yet again suggested a plot and it was SUPER CUTE. Hopefully I did it justice in my limited time jkjhfdg      Meg and I have both become plant parents over the last year so this is super relatable x’D You can’t get just one. You can’t.      But now, it is bedtime. I must sleep uwu Thanks for reading!

[astaralys]

I false-started chapter 5 of The Next Unknown and am most likely going to end up scrapping this.... but look! it’s practically a oneshot of comic relief!

This is also the scene where I realised ‘reindeer’ is the historically correct plural but Kristoff sang ‘Reindeers are better than people’ and my grammar nazi ass is trying to learn how to chill

---

“This,” Ryder said bemusedly, “is why reindeers are way better.”

“Yep.” Kristoff leaned back against Sven’s flank and held out a carrot. “But I’m not the one who needs convincing, my friend.”

They winced in tandem as Anna nearly went flying for the fourth time.

Kristoff cupped a hand around his mouth. “Are you sure you don’t need any help, honey?”

“I’m fine! Just… playing… tug of… urgh! Kjekk, drop it! Right now!”

The horse gave her a baleful look and spat out the bridle.

“Thank you!” Anna huffed. By the time she snatched it off the ground, Kjekk had gambolled across the courtyard. “Hey! Get back here!”

“Maybe you should give her a hand after all, Kristoff,” Honeymaren suggested as the queen chased her royal stead around the fountain.

“She'll be fine. I’d probably just make it worse; Kjekk is kind of scared of me. Actually, Kjekk is scared of everything. Except Anna.”

“Are you sure about that? She’s been trying to bridle and saddle him for the last ten minutes.”

“Twenty,” Ryder piped up. “Definitely twenty.”

“Kristoff! Throw me a carrot!”

He looked at the empty bucket in front of Sven, then at his best friend, who abruptly stopped chewing. “Come on, buddy. I know it sucks but we gotta share.”

Sven groaned and reluctantly poked half the carrot back out.

“Catch!” Kristoff lobbed it in Anna’s direction.

“Too much arm,” Honeymaren observed.

“The spear user is always right,” Ryder agreed.

The carrot sailed into the bushes at the other end of the courtyard.

“Oops.” Kristoff shrugged sheepishly as Anna glowered at him. She pointed at him, then sprinted after Kjekk, who had bolted after the carrot.

Ryder shaded his eyes and peered. “Wow, she’s really fast.”

“Oh, definitely. Anna runs faster than a runaway cart going downhill.” Olaf appeared at Kristoff’s elbow. “Why are we all standing here? Ooh, are Anna and Kjekk playing tag? I want in!”

“Probably not a good idea, little guy,” Kristoff chuckled. “You’d only break something getting involved with those two right now.”

“That’s okay! I don’t have a skull to break. Or bones.”

Kristoff felt a tug on the back of his shirt and looked over to see that Elsa had finally arrived.

“Your tag was sticking out,” she said apologetically. “What did I miss?”

“Anna and Kjekk are breaking bones,” Olaf answered jovially.

“What?”

“I did try to tell her that you’re pretty good at riding reindeers, too,” Ryder offered.

“I think you’d be safer riding in the wagon either way,” Honeymaren said with a shrug.

Elsa turned back to Kristoff with a bewildered please explain expression.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anna got the idea that Kjekk should go with you to the Forest in case the Nokk is still moody and refuses to let you ride him back to Arendelle in an emergency.”

“Reindeers,” Ryder insisted.

[savinscripts]

❝ Love is the biggest gamble of your life. ❞

The casino was massive. Built directly on the cliffs that made up one side of the private island, it faced out into the sea. The sun was just set, flaming the horizon with the soft colors of twilight. The lights of the casino lit up the night sky in contrasting shades of bright iridescent color that shifted through the spectrum as they swayed lazily back and forth. A sparkling fountain put on an equally impressive show out front, where marble mermaids beckoned casino patrons to toss in coins for good luck.

It was a sensory overload, yet remained elegant despite all the glitz. So to say Faye was impressed was an understatement. “You didn’t tell me it was this big,” she said, leaning towards Fane as they walked arm in arm towards the entrance. Faye slipped her hand in his pocket and pulled out a silver piece, tossing it to the mermaid that was making eyes at them as they circled the fountain towards the entrance. She blew them a kiss, and turned to the next patron.

Faye only smiled, and leaned her head back against Fane’s shoulder. They were dressed to the nines. Black tie was the theme for the evening. Faye wore a floor-length gown, split full up to her hip on one side. Stilettos gave her another couple of inches, but she still barely came to Fane’s shoulder. Her hair was up in a loose, elegant twist. Sparkling hairpins held it in place. A small bit of jewelry hung from ears and sparked at her wrist, but otherwise she was unadorned.

Fane had his own decoration (though Faye’s favorite bit wasn’t readily apparent). Not that he needed any help, as he already cut an impressive and striking figure. He drew eyes from all around the venue as they approached. They both did. Faye grinned. “How’re you doing, love?” she whispered. “So many beautiful bodies already undressing you. I’d be surprised if we got through one round of cards before someone asks to take you home.”

This past week on the island had been better then Faye could have ever dreamed. She was fast coming to wish they’d done this sooner. And even if they only had a couple of weeks left here, Faye was going to make sure that she and Fane got the most out of this vacation. Because the real world was waiting back in London. A murderer was still out there. And Faye had to catch them. Before they killed again. They may already have. There was no way of contacting either her or Fane here. They’d made sure of it. It was part of their deal to forget about the outside for awhile. So while the thoughts lingered in the back of Faye’s mind, they didn’t push forward enough to take over what was happening right now.

Waking up that morning with his choice of-- gift, to put his present adornment from his beloved was an experience and quite frankly not a comfortable one at all. Considering the fact he’d been rather rudely awoken during the night and left awake in discomfort while waiting for the pain of the contraption to send his typical morning wood into fast retreat. Several times throughout the the day he’d been forced to endure the discomfort in a similar fashion, no doubt a deliberate choice on Faye’s behalf but it had admittedly left him feeling just a fraction more on edge than he might have otherwise.

A full day, at least for him and his typical drive after all, felt like a goddamn eternity and a painful one at that. And the other thing was, there was no way for him to personally remove it, magic imbued into the contraption meaning only with Faye’s permission and wish would it offer him any relief. Thankfully no padlocks meant he didn’t rattle like the tin-can man from those Oz movies when he walked, and several times throughout the length of the day they had both caught others taking the time to admire the enhanced bulge the contraption also resulted being displayed rather prominently through the tighter material of his shorts and trousers. Well-endowed indeed but bloody uncomfortable and honestly very, very frustrated. Just as much when she’d stepped out in that dress that had once again, left him sat on the bed rearranging his trousers and grimacing at the latent rolling boil he felt deep in his belly. More than once he’d thrown the odd barbed name or comment at her, and while some might think he was genuinely pissed it was quite the opposite. Nuances to their relationship that only she could decipher and she knew, after all, that if he truly had issue he would tell her such.

“Of course it’s big, everything on this island is big, me included ” he murmured as they walked at a lazy pace towards the casino. But her teasing reminder of what might come from tonight caused him to huff, “well enough I guess,” he grumbled just a little but it softened when he saw the happiness glimmering in her gaze. “Well, they’ll have to ask you whether they can take me home-- not much I can do myself tonight after all.” With the mermaid appeased they trailed on, his hand sitting low on the curve of her hip deliberate so that when the fancy took him he could touch her how he pleased. Not that anyone on this island would care, except perhaps to watch him do so. He already had in mind the things he wanted to do to her tonight once his freedom was returned.

Faye would never do something that Fane hadn’t agreed to fully. And he had. In exchange for something. What that was remained to be seen, but Faye had agreed to it readily. She trusted him implicitly. As he did her. Hence the cage she’d magicked around his cock earlier in the day. Pain was part of pleasure, and could enhance the experience if one knew what they were doing. And Faye knew exactly what she was doing. It was a slow torture, but one that would be worth it in the end.

His rising mood only told her it was working. The sharp barbs he tossed at her evidence of that. Faye knew what they were, and a sly grin slid across her face as she’d watch him fidget uncomfortably. Though if he’d really wanted out, or was in true pain, or uncomfortable - psychologically - then she would cancel the charm instantly. He only had to say the word. But he hadn’t yet, despite some of the filthy things he’d said to her. Which in turn - though she’d become slightly better at hiding it - was pushing her willpower to it’s limits. Hearing him say such things fueled her own fire, which is why she chose to wear nothing beneath the flimsy bit of material that called itself a dress. She was hoping to push him a bit further tonight, which is why she’d chosen such an outfit in the first place.

“That you are,” she smiled lazily at him. Faye looked around. She wasn’t used to so much glamour in one place. Her job was not glamorous in any way. Some people thought it was. That being an auror came with fame and notoriety. And it did. If you caught the big bad. If you saved the kidnapped child. Stopped the wizard or witch that had gone on a murdering spree. Then you were the hero. But fail… and you were looked at with disdain. With hatred. Why couldn’t you save them? Why didn’t you act faster? Why didn’t you do this instead of that?? It was a duality that a lot couldn’t handle. But Faye had long since stopped caring what the public thought. She did her job, did it well, and left the hero status to others. To people like her fellow Auror, Harry Potter. Who, in truth, didn’t care for any of the fame or glory or anything else that came with being who he was, even now. But had grown used to the fact that it was part of his life, and always would be. So he used it to his advantage. It was a smart move, in Faye’s opinion. Use what was given to you. And while Potter might get sent on a lot of high profile cases, so did Faye. But Faye’s job was dark alleys, abandoned drug dens, and following cold trails that led nowhere. It was long hours, sweaty clothes, lots of coffee, and more paperwork than her desk could reasonably hold. It was nightmares and dead bodies and messages scrawled in blood. Leading, taunting… always taunting.

So the glam was welcome. Faye thought Fane might be proud of her even, for finally giving in to her indulgent side. For letting him spoil her a bit. Without a single protest, as promised. It made him happy, deliriously so, and that made Faye happy.

She grinned again at his comment, enjoying the feel of his hand at her hip. Again, she spoke low so that only he could hear. “If you’re good, just tell me which one you want, and they’re yours, hm? Providing they’re interested.” Which they both knew was highly likely. Fane was… well, Fane. And she wasn’t half bad herself. Though they weren’t everyone’s cup of tea, and that was fine. There were certainly plenty of options walking around.

“What should we do first? Find alcohol? Then pick a game? I’m shit for cards,” she grinned, “so that’ll be up to you. But anything else and I’ll give it a go.”

He was more than happy to let her take the time she wanted to admire the island, whether it was the beautiful vistas or the ornate and intricate attention to detail of the buildings here. They walked past a fountain, magic lights dancing and creating illusions behind the rushing water as it bounced across rock formations all trickling down into pools and streams that would run off into the crystal blue waters of the ocean. One they’d spent many an afternoon going swimming and lounging on the beach nearby. He’d promised that she would be relaxed from this trip, and she had in turn promised not to complain if he decided to lavish her with gifts and treats. She deserved it, she deserved so much and he wanted to give her everything he could and more. Anything that was his was hers and he wanted to see her just, well, be. Happy, free, indulgent in the things she wanted.

There was no talk of work here, no discussion of what they had left behind. To bring that up was just the allowance for entering a rabbit hole that didn’t need to be descended into. Not right now at least. So Fane was happy to leave that topic far, far by the wayside and plus there was plenty to provide distraction from those things.

“Why wouldn’t they be interested?” he chuffed softly giving her hip a little squeeze knowing that although she had glamoured them her scars were still sensitive to the touch and partly why he enjoyed stroking or occasionally being cautiously tactile with them and her. “Maybe we’ll see Damien tonight,” he commented idly leaning in to press a kiss to her head always inclined to press affections onto her whether they were touches or kisses he’d grown inclined to be overly tactile lately considering there was no reason to hide them unlike back at home. No danger here to do what he wanted.

“You’re shit at gambling period,” he murmured into her ear lightly bumping her affectionately. “Let’s get a drink, what are you in the mood for tonight babygirl?”

“Maybe you’re not to everyone’s taste, that’s all,” she teased. For the most part, though, Faye knew his question was valid. Most people he found himself having an interest in found it hard to turn away from him. Faye had watched it happen for the entire trip. And before. There was just something about him that drew people in. And Faye was content to watch it happen. She knew where they stood with each other. So she wasn’t jealous, or worried someone would steal him away. If anything, strangely enough, such things seemed to bring them closer.

She hummed as he stroked her hip, enjoying the feeling immensely. “Perhaps. You rather enjoyed him last time.” Fane’s old friend had only come around that one night, but what a night it had been. Faye had enjoyed him too, so they would simply see where the night led.

His touches were encouraged. She always wanted them, always needed to feel him against her or touching her in some way. But back home it was dangerous for them right now. They kept their personal life to themselves, unless they went out to the muggle city away from any potential wizarding eyes. Or far less of them at least. One day she would hold his hand in public, kiss him on the street for all to see. But only when she was certain it was safe. Until then, they would do what needed doing.

But right now they were here. And fun waited for them as they moved inside. Faye laughed. “I am not!” But she was. Her poker face was good, her job giving her that much. But anything else was just… almost sad. She bumped him back, trying to look offended but not managing it very well. “Something sweet with lots of alcohol in it. And then…” Faye looked around the room, though it was so large she was certain it had to go on for miles. “Sit a hand at cards? Or the roulette wheel?”

His thumb rubbed arcs into her hip through the tight material of the fabric, his touch feather-light and just deliberate enough to be just the other side of satisfactory. “You rather enjoyed him too if I recall, all tied up like you were” he reminded her with a slanted grin appearing on his lips. His fingers continued to linger, brushing and rubbing as they moved but always keeping her pressed in close proximity was always something he would enjoy from her. How could he not? She was a beautiful woman who deserved to be absolutely adored and appreciated as such.

A low chuckle sounded from him as she tried to dispute her miserable attempts at playing cards and he jostled her playfully as they entered into the casino that stretched on as far as the eye could see. All sorts of witches and wizards were around, all dressed to the nines and already the pair were catching a few eyes “how about a raspberry cosmopolitan? Unless you want a classic cocktail?” he suggested as he steered them over towards the bar ordering a manhattan for himself and whatever drink Faye decided on for the night leaning on the bar but staying in contact with Faye while the bartender mixed their drinks.

“Whatever you fancy,” he said looking around the room himself. They had every game from around the globe here for any such inclinations. “I’ll need to get some cash converted.”

“Willing to abandon a beautiful lady so soon?” a smooth caramel rich voice piped up from behind them and Fane turned his expression morphing into a grin as he found Damien dressed up in a slick deep red tux. “Tut tut, and there was me thinking that maybe you were a gentleman.”

“That sounds good.” She hadn’t had a Cosmo in a while. And Faye liked anything sweet, especially if it would give her a relaxed buzz if she drank enough of it. Her eyes scanned the interior of the casino, the sleek lines, the deep, bold colors, the lights… the beautiful people mingling and drinking and losing ridiculous amounts of money. It was like they were in a different world. And she supposed they were. A world all their own. A private playground to do with as they wished. That bent to their every whim.

Enjoying the quiet contact while she watched the bar elf mix their drinks, Faye contemplated what to do first. Fane was a good card player, and not afraid to bluff. They played sometimes, and he always beat her. But she supposed this was much bigger stakes than their wagers on where to eat dinner. She was just taking her drink from the elf, nodding her thanks, when a familiar voice followed Fane’s. Faye turned, handing Fane his own drink, and smiled at Damien’s strikingly clad figure. “He is a gentleman. Never leaves a lady hanging.” She eyed him up and down, leaning her shoulder against Fane’s and wondering how quickly his comfort zone was going to be breached now that the other wizard had shown up. “You’re looking dashing tonight,” she told Damien, grinning. . “Have you lost any money yet?”

While Fane took care of the drinks, charging them to the room tab he’d opened at the start of their vacation here he let Faye look around and take in the atmosphere. All around goblins and elves wandered, better treated here than in almost any other wizarding resort or establishment around the world and though it didn’t mean there wasn’t sometimes trouble for the most part the staff seemed content to work and serve their clientele. All around diamonds and magic glinted while glasses clinked, chips and cards were dealt and fates altered.

Cards were some of Fane’s favourite things to do when out, a balance of masterful acting and charm to con-- well, convince people to folding or bluffing them into a controllable position. Never play the cards, play the person. That was the aim of the game and though he’d tried to teach Faye it wasn’t so easy to teach that particular brand of skillset. No doubt she could manage it with time, but even so.

At the sound of a familiar voice he turned smiling cheerfully at his friend though setting eyes on him in that choice of suit resulted in a naturally interested brow and Fane was reminded by the discomfort that he struggled to conceal about the fact that his interested tonight was limited to Faye’s permission alone. Discretely shifting his weight to try and find some sort of comfortable position Fane handed over her drink “her on the other hand?” he offered for good measure “bloody conniving minx.”

Damien preened under the compliments Faye had to offer, “you cut quite the ravishing figure yourself love... “ though he looked quizzically over at Fane “and something’s made you mister grumpy pants tonight… Lighten up, have a drink or four.” Though he laughed at Faye’s question, “of course I have, who hasn’t? That’s part of the fun.”

Faye was content to stand at Fane’s side and be his good luck charm if he wanted. It would be interesting to see how he fared tonight, all things considered. Cards sometimes put him in a bit of a mood, depending on how the hands played. Though Faye had no doubt that he would win at least a few rounds. Faye like games of chance better. Roulette, Craps, Blackjack sometimes. And there were many more wizarding games that had much more interesting prizes besides cash or coin. They would come to that though.

For the time being, she had two handsome men all to herself. “You love me,” she whispered to Fane as she handed over his drink. She smiled at Damien around the rim of her glass. The drink was quite good, and Faye took a long sip before replying. “Thank you.” Though she saw Fane’s squirming, and since she was a merciful bloody conniving minx, she let him have a bit of breathing room, as it were. Not much, but a roll of her fingers expanded his confinement enough to take the edge off. For now. Damien was, after all, a friend. Later, perhaps, if the timing and the mood was right, Faye would let him in on her… secret. But the control was all hers. And would remain that way for tonight.

“You men and your money,” she said, shaking her head. But it was in good humor. When everyone had had a drink or two, chatting about the last couple of days, and what they were interested in for tonight, they moved away from the bar and mingled with the crowd.

Damien hung close to Fane’s left side, Faye on his right. The other man’s gaze took in the crowd at the high roller’s table, located on a raised dias near the center of this section of the casino. “See that man there,” he said to Fane, quietly from behind his raised glass. “The one with the gloves on?” He waited until Fane nodded before continuing. “Name’s Alexie Sokolov. Russian chap. Best card player on the island. Wears gloves because he thinks it’s unlucky to touch the cards with his hands.” Damien shook his head. “He comes once a year, spends millions, wins even more than that, then just… leaves. And no one hears from him again until the next time.” He glanced sideways at Fane. “No one’s ever beat him.”

Faye had heard the entirety of the conversation, and had already started to analyze what Damien was saying. Even though she tried not to, a bit of her Auror training came out. “Is it the same gloves every time?” she asked quietly. Meaning, did he cheat?

“Debatable,” he groused quietly in response to Faye’s light needling though of course they both knew she was right in her assumption. Granted, he was allowed a modicum of relief from the device she’d brought into play tonight and he almost, almost sighed as a little of the pressure eased off. Instead, taking a long pull of his own drink. He’d need it.

“Yes, our money buying you nice fancy things,” Fane commented leaning in to buss her cheek his arm slipping around her waist as they all settled into the mood of the night and crowds present. However, what happened next had Fane’s full attention and his brow cocked as he watched the confident grace with which their subject moved. Calculated perhaps, to instil a sense of unease in other players who no doubt knew who they were playing against. “Superstitious shmuck,” he remarked with a roll of his eyes.

“May be, but it’s worked so far for him,” this, earned a roll of Fane’s eyes and a huff in response as he eyed the man in gloves. He was nothing special to look at, not really. But what Damien said next had his eyes narrowing in a thoughtful fashion.

“Never been beaten?” well, if that wasn’t a proposition if he’d heard one. Faye asked her own question and it stoked him all the more to go over there himself. “Do you know the buy in.”

“Couple of thousands probably,” though Faye’s question was simply met with a slight look that was neither confirmation or denial to what she’d asked.

“Well…” Fane had a glint in his eyes, “why don’t we test his track record?”

Faye did know, so she only chuckled and kissed his shoulder. It turned to a hum of approval as he kissed her cheek a moment later. “The only pretty thing I need is you, love,” she said as they started to thread their way through the crowd.

She could feel the moment his attentions turned to the high rollers. His demeanor changed, but not so much as to draw attention from anyone watching. But Faye could tell, pressed so close as she was. And the moment the words left Damien’s mouth, that no one had ever beaten the Russian player, Faye knew Fane was hooked.

Because there was nothing Fane liked more than a challenge. And the gloved man and his unbroken streak - not to mention the millions of dollars ready to be won - was just that. “You’ve done it now,” Faye said sotto voice to Damien, who stood on the other side of Fane.

Damien only laughed and shrugged. “What can I say? Someone needs to beat the bastard, and who better? I lost money last year - a lot of money - betting against him. I need to win it back.”

“Ah, so you’re only using him for financial gain,” Faye teased. She glanced at Fane as he commented on the man’s use of gloves. “Maybe he is. I’d bet he’s a cheat though. No one’s that good. Well, except for you, love.” Her hip bumped Fane’s.

Damien named the buy in price. Faye knew that Fane wouldn’t have cared if it was ten times that. He was in. She only raised an eyebrow at Damien’s glance, ready as the other man was to see Fane leave the Russian in the proverbial dust.

“After you,” Damien said. He motioned that Faye and Fane should precede him towards the dias. They approached, Faye holding lightly to Fane’s arm and doing her best to look uninterested in the conversation as Fane spoke with the large, suited man taking buy ins. She sipped her drink, yawned a bit, and waved at someone in the crowd that didn’t exist. Though she listened intently to every word.

The buy in was exactly four thousand pounds. There were two spots left in the next game, once the current one was over. It was down to the Russian and two others. The man directed them to where the monetary exchange was made and Fane was handed a gold coin that saved his slot for the game.

“That looks fancy,” Faye said, glancing down at the little token.

There was no helping his intrigue, taking money from wealthy suspected criminals to line his own pockets for his own exploits? Not to mention doing it in such a fashion as a game of chance and skill like cards? How couldn’t he be enticed? Fane licked his lips eyeing the group with evident interest and a honed gaze, studying their movements with a thoughtful gaze.

“He uses me for more than that,” Fane off-handedly commented in response to Damien’s remarks “and if I win him his money back well,” his gaze finally left the table to look aside at him “I guess he’ll just owe me several times over won’t he?” Discussing the buy in was no major skin off his back, and once the fee was agreed and exchanged Fane spun the gold token between his index finger and thumb flicking it in lazy circles as he stood by watching the present game.

“All part of the game,” Fane explained picking up a canapé from a passing waitress and popping it into his mouth and chewing on it seeming rather non-plussed at the fact that the pot being dealt on the current table was about three hundred and fifty thousand total and climbing. It wouldn’t be the first or the last he’d have through the night, the casino’s extremely generous helpings of alcohol and food just enticing players to stay here even longer. “Now, I’m going to go and get some chips, I’ll be back in a little bit love” his fingers lingered on her elbow for a moment as he brushed affectionately by her though he knew she might have to give him a little more leeway during the course of his bout here in terms of easing off on the distraction she had control over. If he was going to win he needed to be able to focus.

“What do you think his chances are?” Damien asked watching Fane speaking with the cashier and exchanging a wad of notes for a stockpile of differently coloured chips keeping them to hand as he made his way back.

Damien could only raise his glass to Fane’s comment, turning back a healthy swallow as he grinned. “I’m sure we can come to some sort of… arrangement.” He watched his friend make fairly quick work of the buy in, standing by Faye as he walked off.

Faye watched too, and when Fane came back, she looked at the small token with interest. “Seems like the crowd is dwindling,” she commented on the group at the table as Fane snagged a bit of passing food. There was enough floating around that she would get some in a bit. Right now she was more interested in the card game, even though it was more in reading the players than the actual game itself. The amount of money was obscene, and Faye shook her head slightly. That was a decade’s salary for her. Probably more. But she didn’t comment. It would be nice to see someone else take home the money. Someone besides the man who was slowly driving away any and all competition.

It would come down to one or two players, Faye knew. Not losing was as much a matter of pride as it was chance and skill. Though the men - and one woman - left at the table all appeared to be sweating. The Russian barely looked invested. Faye watched him over the rim of her glass. Either his poker face was second to none, or something else was going on. She opted for the first, seeing as how the casino was charmed against any sort of magical cheating. Other magic, such as Faye’s glamours over her scars, were unaffected, being unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

Faye hummed in acknowledgement of Fane’s brush to her arm, watching him as he moved off to gather his chips for the game. She would certainly give him leeway for the game. Probably vanishing the distraction completely for the duration. She wanted to see him win as much as anyone. Damien included. Faye glanced aside at the other man as he spoke.

“I think if anyone can take him out, it’ll be Fane.” Her eyes fell back to where he made his way through the crowd again. “He hates to lose. At anything.”

“This is true,” Damien agreed. “All settled?” he asked Fane as he came back over.

The amount of money on the table was obscene, but hardly the most he’d ever observed in a game. He’d seen games where millions were the average on hand at a poker game. This, was barely anything in comparison to those. So he stood by, fingering the chips idly as the game progressed until it was the Russian with his almost indisputable poker face and one final player who looked just about ready to pass out from uncertainty. A testament to his foe’s nerves or something else entirely, Fane couldn’t quite say.

The game ended as all expected it to, with the Russian scooping the pot and then some while the other man departed. For a moment, Fane lingered studying his opponent with a schooled and thoughtful eye sussing out what might be his tell if any. It was an art in itself, and one Fane had grown rather apt at over the years. Finally, with the Russian stacking up his chips the dealer, a rather attractive young woman with dark features and a honey-sweet smile invited any other players to the table. No one seemed keen to be first, and so after pressing a lingering kiss to Faye’s cheek “wish me luck love,” Fane slid away.

Departing from Damien and Faye’s side he settled into a seat, adjusting himself slightly though a private conversation passed with looks between himself and Faye until he felt his earlier confinement ease off until he could settle comfortably. Setting his chips down in colour-coded order before slipping the silver disk across to the dealer whose name now that he could see her badge was Catarina.

Now that someone seemingly had the balls to take the offer of a match, more players gravitating around the table took their seats and set their chips out. And not very much time later the cards were being dealt and the game on. Fane’s features throughout were nigh unreadable, save for the easy confident posture he maintained. His hand was decent enough on the opening round, but nothing spectacular and though he made it to the last few stages of the river was called when the hands were revealed. The routine continued, Fane’s features analysing the board with laser-like accuracy and a couple more rounds going in the following order: loss, loss, small win, loss, slightly larger win and so on. Until it was only him and his opponent left, each having cleaned a lot of the other players at the table out. But Fane’s attention was on the stacks of credits still in front of the man who didn’t look all too pleased at having someone willing to challenge his games.

Where most might’ve been sweating under the losses, Fane took them in stride, barely reacting or acknowledging as the chips were dealt back and forth back and forth between them. Fane had won a couple of games against him, something that had drawn a sizeable crowd to watch the game and where most might’ve been satisfied by beating the supposed top player in the casino. Fane was insistent on one fact. That being taking everything this man was worth as his own. And so, the hands were dealt out again and the routine game continued.

Faye and Damien found a table to sit at around the periphery of the game. They chatted as they watched, Damien’s arm across the back of her chair, thumb brushing her skin lightly - explaining a bit of the deeper intricacies of the game to Faye. She understood on her own that Fane wasn’t going to blow the Russian out of the water right from the start. He lost more than once, with a decent win here and there. Weeding out the contenders who had lost enough money, and keeping the ones who thought they could at least beat Fane, if not the Russian. It was classic deception, though Faye saw the Russian watching Fane closely - in scattered glances over his hand of cards - as the throng of players thinned.

“Fane’s rattling him,” Faye said, leaning close to Damien so only he could hear her. “He’s looked up six times in the last few minutes. That’s more than the entirety of the last game combined.”

Damien grinned, turning his face closer to Faye’s. “Ten to one that once it’s down to the two of them, Fane puts all in. At some point. It’ll either be a damn good bluff, and the Russian counters, or he has a top hand.”

Faye glanced back at the table, eyes lingering briefly over the lovely woman dealing the game, before moving to Fane. “I have no idea,” she told Damien. “Whatever he does, when he wins, just be ready for it.” Her smile turned wicked as she gave him a nudge and a wink. More drinks were brought round, and Faye bought a pack of cigarettes from the floor girl. She lit one up, offering the pack to Damien just as the only other person at the table folded. Leaving Fane and the Russian.

Fane was coming to learn as the games progressed, the man he was targeting out of the crowd never lost so to speak. He folded when it suited but never let a game go unless it was to a point he could well and truly bluff. The games in which Fane won, the man folded, the ones he lost being the ones the Russian stuck out until cards were called. The chips were drawn in and exchanged more than once. The chips changing hands several times over until each player had amassed a decent total of winnings though none surpassing either Fane or the Russian.

One by one the crowd thinned, people realising either that they stood no chance to win here or that there was perhaps something more going on. Something that they likely didn’t wish to have a part in. Not to say there wasn’t a general crowd joining the table to watch the last two men standing. While Fane was well aware of his opponent’s glances, he didn’t seem to care either way though behind a neutral expression that gave away nothing his mind was working out strategies and deliberations on every single move and action that was taken. There was skill to this game after all, judging from a person’s decision to raise or call on how good their hand was and consequently decide whether they happened to be bluffing or not.

Fane was, of course, biding his time. Even now it was down to just the two of them, the cards were dealt the rounds passed and with fifty-grand in the pot Fane lost causing the crowd to hiss under their collective breath at the fact. The Russian seemed pleased with himself, scooping in the chips and stacking them up.

Of course you couldn’t land the biggest fish around without bait could you? And Fane was happy to stuff the hook full of the lures to get what he wanted in the end.

There was method to Fane’s madness, and where most might have been sweating buckets after losing the sum he had in the last match. He merely glanced at a waitress and ordered another drink in a quietly put request. The blinds were paid, and the game was once again under way. Fane occasionally taking a sip of his drink as he studied the cards on the deck, though in this round something was different about his choice of play style. Where before his choices were careful, calculated, this time he raised where he could pushing and pushing until on one of the Russian’s turns he was left to sit and wait on the other man’s choice of action. A sign that this had not been something he had anticipated, yet where the Russian might typically have folded now he merely stayed.

The pot was at a hundred thousand between the pair of them and Fane sat back into his seat, staring at his opponent while he waited for the next move to come. The river would seal his fate, that much he knew.

Back at their table, Faye gripped Damien’s arm as she watched Fane lose more money than she could make in a year. “Christ…” she muttered to herself. But she trusted that Fane knew what he was doing. He couldn’t wipe the floor with the man. Not if he wanted to win.

“He’ll be fine,” Damien said quietly. “But my arm won’t if you don’t loosen up.” He patted her hand and gave her a smile.

Faye loosened her grip. “Sorry. Just makes me nervous. Guess this is why I’m shit at poker.”

“Could be,” Damien said. “Though you’ve got other talents to make up for it.”

Faye merely glanced aside at him, seeing the smirk on his face. “I do,” was all she said before turning back to the game. It went on, push and pull, win and loss, until finally Fane sat back. Faye looked at the Russian. He’d fallen into a pattern over the course of the game. And Faye had picked it up somewhat. Now he was hesitating. She looked back at Fane. He looked almost bored. Though Faye knew that wasn’t the case. He was either bluffing, or he had something good. It was merely a matter of waiting on the other man to fold, or put his hand down and call Fane’s bluff.

The tension in the air was palpable. Even the dealer looked a bit tense as she watched the two men sit at a near standstill. The Russian watched Fane from under his thick brown. The cards moved slightly between his gloved fingers as she seemed to be deciding. Finally, after an age, he seemed to make up his mind. Perhaps it was arrogance. Perhaps it was pride. Perhaps it was underestimating his opponent. Whatever it was, the man laid down his hand.

“We have a four of a kind from Mr. Sokolov. Aces, across the board.” The dealer called out the hand that had been laid down, and there was a collective rumbling among the room. That was a damn good hand.

Faye craned her neck, feeling her cheeks flush as she watched the Russian. “There’s only two hands that beat that,” she said. “If Fane was bluffing…” She took a long pull off her drink as she waited - along with the rest of the room - for Fane to lay down his hand. “Come on, baby… come on, come on, come on…” she muttered.

The Russian simply waited, knowing that he’d called this other man out.

Fane had to pace himself, this was as much a game of patience as it was one of skill and Fane was well aware that he couldn’t simply rush in without a thought. You had to pick and choose your battles and Fane was conscious of every move being made. He was out of hearing distance of Damien and Faye not that he’d looked over at them much during the course of the rounds as they came and went.

He couldn’t afford distraction presently. Though he knew in his observations of his opponent that he was feeling rattled by Fane’s calm confidence and certainty behind his hand. The final round of betting came, and Fane paused looking at his chips, the Russian and the central deck of cards. You couldn’t give your hand away too early or risk spooking your fish to bolt before you could clean them out for everything they were worth. The fact the Russian was still at this point meant he either had a very good hand or was risking it on a bluff. Fingering a couple of chips, Fane knocked back the rest of his drink, set his glass aside and scooped his entire winnings into the middle. All seven million causing the crowd to mutter under their breath shocked by the boldness of the move.

“Mister Savin goes all in,” the young woman gave him a look and Fane half-expected her to think he was mad for doing such a thing against a man notorious for never losing.

Perhaps it was pride, or the egotistical nature that came from too many wins. Fane’s stack of chips was hardly comparable to the nineteen-million the Russian made his throne on. Perhaps it was the temptation to beat someone so thoroughly they never tried something so dumb again in their lives. Who knew the reason why, but Fane sat back and waited. Until the Russian called, and the pot was raised to the sum of their total value.

The hand set down was a very good one, rare to get a four pair on a single game and Fane could understand why people said the man had to cheat to get a hand like that. But the river was made up of an ace of spades and diamonds, followed by a four of hearts, and a jack and ten of spades. The tension in the room was palpable, eyes turning to see whether Fane was sweating but Fane’s expression remained neutral.

Until the moment he flipped his cards doing so in such a fashion that only the top card was visible a Queen of spades. He was sure that he saw several people crane forwards in anticipation of his absolute loss or victory. A smirk crept onto his lips followed by a flick of his wrist to slip the queen aside just enough to reveal a matching King sat beneath.

Stunned silence followed.

The look on the Russian’s face was certainly worth the wait, and Fane was sure he saw veins popping out of the man’s head not to mention his expression seemed a bit bug-eyed. The bystanders looked at the table in disbelief. The odds of it happening were so rare it was next to none.

“And... a royal flush from Mister Savin,” the dealer didn’t look like she quite believed she was saying it. “Twenty-six... million in winnings.”

Fane scooped it in, and rose from his chair looking over at the Russian who had barely moved an inch. “Better luck next time hm?” Fane looked at the dealer then, he wasn’t oblivious to the way Damien had been looking at her earlier “and thank you love, for a wonderful game.” Picking up five grand in chips he flipped them over to her. “And say, if you’d like to join us for drinks later… You would most definitely be welcome.”

“I--” she seemed a bit surprised to be acknowledged in all honesty, but a look between him and the couple approaching from behind him caused her to laugh a little and shake off her surprise. “Sure, this was my last game tonight anyway.”

“Positively wonderful,” Fane grinned scooping the chips into a tray so that he could get it changed into cash while Faye and Damien approached.

When Fane laid down his hand, Faye waited, holding her breath and Damien’s arm tightly. The other man didn’t seem to care. His hand gripped Faye’s thigh in anticipation. And when the dealer called out that Fane had won, Faye and Damien both yelled out loud. They clapped along with the rest of the crowd that had gathered.

“Wait-” Faye said, gripping Damien’s arm again, “did she say… 26 million?”

“I think she did,” Damien said, watching with a gleam in his eyes as Fane paid the dealer for her trouble. “I’d say that’s a fair payout.” He looked at Faye. “You know that’s chump change to a guy like him, right?” He was grinning a bit madly, the adrenaline of the last bit of the game flushing his cheeks beneath the dark complexion. “Come on, let’s go congratulate him.” Damien tugged Faye down into the crowd and they made their way towards Fane.

“I knew you’d wallop him!” Faye said. She leaned up wrapped her arms around Fane’s neck, giving him a sound kiss before stepping back to allow Damien to do the same. Though sans kiss.

“That’s my boy,” he grinned at Fane. A quick look around and he spotted the dealer making her way through the crowds. He leaned in again. “So uh… she’s coming with us? I know you slipped an invite in there, right?”

“If you’re talking about the pretty dealer with the fuckable mouth, of course he invited her. Right baby?” Faye said quietly as they both followed Fane to cash in his earnings. A trio of bodyguards (guarding the money, not Fane) walked in front of and behind them.

Fane didn’t bother to wipe the smug smile off his lips once the hand was called out, gathering the chips into roughly even piles before loading them onto a tray of coloured groups for easy reckoning. The Russian was still staring at him, and most might’ve been unnerved but Fane merely grinned lazily. “You know, if you want to play some other time-- I’d absolutely love to.” He probably shouldn’t dig, but how could he not? A winning streak lost just like that and to a stranger no less.

When Faye and Damien approached Fane was just getting to his feet speaking to a couple of staff that had come to congratulate him on the win, also to inform him that as a high roller they were willing to loan him a million to keep playing during the week if he so wished. A tempting offer and Fane explained that he’d consider it later in the week, a couple of security were moving around just to keep an eye on the chips not that he was too worried.

“Well, you know me,” Fane laughed as his arms slipped naturally around her hugging her close and lifting her off the floor. He practically melted into her kiss, and it took everything in him not to turn her round and prop her on the card table. Something had him figuring the staff wouldn’t appreciate that too much so he settled on holding her tight for now. Eventually, he let her go but not before he gave Damien a hug.

The question about the dealer caused him to glance over his shoulder at the young witch behind them, turning back to Damien to adjust the other man’s tie. Straightening it just before patting his chest when he spoke again “well I saw how you were practically eye-fucking her earlier and you mentioned you lost to the man so call me giving you the opportunity for a drink with her… Compensation hm?”

They made their way across the floor the cashier, Fane carrying the chips on the tray and sliding them under the caged barrier behind which a house-elf dressed smartly in a tux started changing and depositing it into Fane’s account directly rather than giving cash. Once it was all said and done, Fane turned back to the group (now four) grinning lazily. “Well, I say celebratory drinks hm? Ah-- but first introductions, this charming fellow is Damien Girard, the beauty beside me Faye Delacroix and you can call me Fane love” he finished dipping to kiss Catarina’s hand.

“Charmed, name’s Catarina but everyone calls me Cat,” the young woman explained to the group. Though her eyes lingered on Damien just a fraction longer than the rest.

“Careful with that one,” Damien warned with a cheeky little smile.

“Oh don’t worry love, I can handle myself.”

“I like her,” Faye said to Fane, though it was meant to be heard by everyone. “Nice to meet you, Cat.” Faye and Cat shook hands, and once the matter of Fane’s winnings was settled they moved off towards the drinks that Fane had mentioned. Cat and Damien walked a bit ahead of Faye and Fane, chatting quietly. Faye leaned over, her arm wrapped around Fane’s as they moved through the crowd. “I make my own bet with you that Damien and our new friend become very well acquainted before the evenings done.” It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious. Cat was already eyeing Damien like he was good enough to eat. She’d looked at Fane the same way, and Faye as well. But it was Damien that had drawn her attention first.

Faye grinned. “Speaking of bets…” A subtle flick of her fingers and the distraction she’d relieved him of earlier returned, though not as tight as before. “I can’t let you have too much leeway now that you made yourself a household around here. You might get a big head.” Her tone was teasing and playful, and she kissed his arm as they followed the other two towards another section of the casino. They passed through an archway, and unlike the brightly lit room of the gambling hall, this bit of the casino ascended up spiraling walkway. The lighting became softer, turning to deep purples and reds and blues. The air was cooler here too.

Faye looked around. She liked the semi-darkness of the walkway. Gave opportunity for a bit of playfulness. Though she kept her hands to herself for now.

“Best drinks in the casino are up here,” Cat said to all of them. “On the house for a VIP like yourself.” She turned a grinned slyly at Fane. “Though be careful with the blue ones. They’re strong.” A small wink in their direction and she turned back to Damien, taking the distraction of darkness to slip her arm through his. Faye could hear Damien’s deep murmur as he leaned over to talk to the other woman.

“Have you ever been up here before?” Faye asked Fane as the path seemed to level out and open up into a large, cavernous space filled with people. The music was less dance music and more a sort of hypnotic background beat. Not unpleasant, just different. They followed Cat to the bar, the colors of the room settling Faye into a more relaxed, almost lazy mood. Not the high-wire adrenaline she’d felt down below. Was it the music? Was it charmed to do such a thing? A glance over at Damien and Cat revealed that the man already had his hand on her waist as they ordered drinks.

It wouldn’t take them long.

Faye turned back to Fane. “Wanna get a blue one?” she grinned. “See if she’s fulla shit?”

With introductions sorted, Fane fell in beside Faye watching as Cat and Damien walked a little distance ahead. “That’s not even a bet worth making, of course they will,” Fane said as he watched the other couple ahead of them. “Only reason he probably roped me into that game is to get him a shot at talking to her, Fane tipped his head slipping his arm around her waist and drawing her close “because he would’ve looked like a fool in front of her if he lost a lot of cash.” Fane had feeling it wasn’t just that, but Fane had seen Damien making eyes at the card-dealer a couple of times in the week when they had been in here. “Plus, I’m an amazing wing-man,” he flashed her a cheshire cat smile; slow and lazy as they walked along.

Fane’s steps faltered as their earlier arrangement was settled into place once more and he had to try and discretely adjust the front of his trousers with his free hand. Not that there truly was any subtle method to do that. “Not the only big thing about me,” Fane couldn’t help the joke, his tone light and full of humour as they left the brightness of the casino and instead replaced it for darker corridors and more electro-beat music. He glanced up at Cat when she spoke, “oh I’m a VIP now, goodness, I do like special treatment,” Fane was, of course, for the most part joking on this topic. He didn’t really give a damn mostly because he always did his own thing anyway, regardless of whether it was the done thing or no.

At Faye’s question Fane let his eyes drift around the cavern “to be fair-- I’m pretty sure most of the time I was on this island I was high off my rocker… So, I don’t think I could tell even if I had been here.” Fane was hardly shy about his dabbling, Faye knew well enough about the unhealthier habits he partook in and while they had been here had shared in plenty of those together. But it was the truth, in all honesty, most of Fane’s last visit was a blur of things he could hardly remember and something he wasn’t sure he did wish to remember anyhow. Stepping into the softer lights, Fane stroked Faye’s hip interested in the feel of the material under his fingers humming contently as they arrived at the bar. “Mm,” he sounded giving a slow dip of his head in answer, “are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me love?” He was teasing of course, “but how could I deny such a tempting proposition? Go on,” Fane looked to the bartender “two of the blue drink thingymajigs, whatever they are.” Leaning his hip on the counter, he looked at her “I want to dance with you after this… I love dancing with you baby.”

“This is true,” Faye grinned. She stroked a hand over the front of his trousers, feeling the smooth ridges of the metal cage surrounding his cock. “Yet you take it so well.” Building him up throughout the night was her goal, and though she had released him for the game earlier - and it had turned out very, very well - their arrangement was back on. The very thought of what she was doing to him, and where it might lead later in the evening, especially considering their new friend, made her belly burn with a low desire. But she wouldn’t rush. They had all night.

Cat just grinned over her shoulder at Fane before turning back to Damien. The entire island was a VIP resort, so having additional privileges could be fun. And Cat had been working here long enough to know some of the secrets that others might not. Though she also wasn’t naive enough to think that someone like Fane - who barely blinked an eye at the millions he’d just won - didn’t already know all of them.

Faye moved up to the bar, leaning against it as Fane’s fingers drifted over her hip. “Mmm. You know… I can see the appeal of some things. The way they just… make you forget your troubles.” Faye certainly wasn’t one to fuel the fire of Fane’s addictions, so to speak, but the things they’d experimented with while on the island had made her feel… amazing. She’d yet to smoke opium with him, but they had time yet. It was safe here at least.

“Maybe,” she said. “You do become a bit of a slut when you’re drunk.” Faye turned towards the bar and watched the woman move to mix up their order. Whatever the liquid was, it was a bright, neon blue. It smoked as it was poured up. But her attentions turned back to Fane, and she pulled him close by a beltloop. “Consider my dance card full then.”

Faye knew well enough exactly what she was doing, and in all honesty Fane didn’t mind a bit. He was happy to settle into playing his part but frankly he didn’t mind one bit about whether he was considered important or not. But the perks, well, Fane did always have a knack for sniffing those out and weaselling his way into places he might not ought to have been. Call it a talent. One that pissed people off just as much as it happened to impress them. Fane rather impressed himself with it too.

“Then can anyone ever blame me for running off to places like this?” Fane asked, though it was more rhetorical because Fane had very much been running when he had been here. Running from things and a life he’d wanted to forget for longer than a while. Unfortunately, memories were a pesky sort of thing that couldn’t just be removed entirely with the use of a drug but it was a decent enough temporary reprieve to give him peace of mind enough to sleep. “That one you had the other day was fun,” Fane said, referencing the serum he’d given her before Damien and he had taken it upon themselves to take her apart between them while she was lax and utterly willing. “Or maybe I’ll use something that makes you utterly desperate.” He’d gotten an utterly pure stash of bits and pieces back at the villa and they’d been toying around with them during their stay. Had Faye wanted to try smoking with him he would’ve let her but it hadn’t come up as of yet.

“Only for you,” Fane leaned down and nipped at her neck “only for you love.” The drinks were served up but Fane was promptly distracted by her when she tugged him in just so. “Not the only thing that’ll be full tonight I think,” his brows waggled in a playful fashion and his voice dripped with amusement as he made his comment. He never could pass up such an opportunity.

“I’m starting to see the appeal,” Faye agreed. Fane knew her near obsessive work ethic better than most. Once she had something in her teeth, it was near impossible to get her to let go of it, even for a little while. And considering the case that was in limbo back home - awaiting the tedious processing of the wands they had come across - it was a testament to their relationship that Fane had agreed to leave. But she had promised. And they’d already lost so much time. So many years wasted for one reason or another. Fane didn’t have to stick with her through all the Ministry bullshit. It wasn’t his job. But he had. He’d been right there through everything. Even as the case had slowly taken over their lives. Such as they were. And Faye recognized that. Which is why she had kept her end of the bargain and fully indulged in this long holiday that they both deserved.

“It was fun,” she agreed. “Maybe I’ll try it on you? See what it does.” Her hands stroked over his side beneath his jacket. He was warm as always, and it was pleasant in the coolness of the bar. Her pulse quickened a bit a the prospect of the opposite. “Does me begging for it make you hard?” Her hand drifted lower, stroking him lightly. “Maybe you should keep this on while I do? Have you begging me in return?”

The drinks arrived, smoking lightly, and she laughed as his breath tickled her neck. “Mmm, and you are good at it too.” Her grin turned devilish, and she pulled him even closer. “Promise?”

“Does that mean I’m corrupting my good little auror, hm?” there was a sing-song lilt to his voice when he said this and his expression was entirely mischievous. If he was honest he was lothe for the day to come where they would have to leave this place, much preferring the idea of staying right here with her and absolutely none of the responsibility they would otherwise have to return to. He couldn’t be blamed for it, it certainly wasn’t Fane’s job and in all honesty with how the Ministry treated him he couldn’t have been blamed for telling them to go and screw themselves (which he had, several times) much to their chagrin. But he stayed, and he stayed for one singular reason, and that was the witch presently at his side. If there was one person he would never leave (not again), it was Faye.

“Tease, would you?” Fane asked in a quiet exhale of air at the thought of her using the drug on him. The stroke of her hand was leaving him feeling just a little overheated but he didn’t let it show instead settling to enjoy the warmth of her beside him. “You don’t need to ask that to know the answer,” of course he knew she was asking because she already knew the answer, the brush of her hand caused him to look over at her. “Granted it doesn’t take much to get my interest let’s be honest-- like you said I’m a slut. Quite proud of that fact really.” It was hardly a secret either, he’d spent too long in indulging in things that physically felt good to distract from the lingering darkness in the recesses of his mind. Some might even go so far as to say he’d become hooked on such physical pleasure to avoid the pain he might otherwise be forced to confront.

“I know, I’ve had a long time to refine my craft.” They were practically flush the booze and smell of her perfume and something that was just so distinctly her overriding his senses as she drew him in and it was all he could do not to-- his mind was in the gutter as his slight wince of discomfort proved. “Well, you’re in charge of that...” Fane remarked licking his lips as he picked up his drink and took a sip, hit with the flavour of something refreshing almost blueberry in flavour. In all honesty this was both a great and horrendous method of torture, the pain of denial only serving to heighten the desire to have what was quite literally forbidden.

“It means… that I’m starting to see the appeal.” There was a hint of teasing in her voice as she repeated herself, because she would (most likely) never admit that he was corrupting her just a little bit. Even though Faye preferred to think of it as ‘broadening her horizons.’ She wasn’t nearly as tight-laced as a lot of her coworkers thought she was. She would do things off the book. Make deals to get what she wanted. Such as with the wands. Sometimes you had to look the other way. Especially if no one was getting hurt. Except the people that deserved it. But like Fane, the prospect of returning to all of that weighed heavily on Faye whenever it crossed her mind. As it was doing more often as the month slowly drew to a close. The sheer amount of things that would need tending when they got back to London was mentally overwhelming. Though all her minor cases had been streamlined to other agents once she’d taken over as Head Auror on the one they were working. It had taken priority. And Faye knew that Fane’s loyalty was only to her. That he didn’t two shits about the Ministry or anyone there. He stayed for her. To help her. And she would never be able to thank him enough, or express how much it meant. When they got back, things would change. There would be work and real life and obligations. Danger and the unknown. People that wanted to hurt them.

Which was why she pushed those thoughts away and focused on the here and now.

“I would if you wanted,” she said. “Having you at my mercy and willing to do anything I said without question…” Her lip found it’s way between her teeth. “It’s makes me wet just thinking about it.” Her teeth flashed white as she grinned at his answer. “You’re the only person in this world I’d ever get on my knees for. Or beg for anything.” Faye was fairly certain that he knew that. She was proud, and pride was her sin if anything was. But for him she would kneel. She would crawl. She would do anything he asked, if only to please him and make him happy. “And I’m proud of you too. Not everyone embraces their inner hedonist quite like you do, love.”

Faye reached for her own drink, a devious smirk on her face. “I am in charge of that aren’t I?” They were standing close, so she let her hip brush against him instead of her hand. Her drink tasted like blueberries as well, but with something a bit like… grape perhaps… mixed in. It was very good. She took another longer sip and turned back to Fane. Behind them, Damien and Cat were bent close together in conversation, but Faye couldn’t hear what they were saying.

“What’s your take on the dealer?” Faye asked Fane around another sip of her drink. “You think she’s down for… fun later?”

“Would it make you happy? Doing that, having that power?” Fane asked in a low voice his eyes widening just a fraction as he spoke his lips hovering by her ear and lightly bumping her temple where he’d leaned in close. She couldn’t see it, but the smile was evident in his voice. “And you’re the one calling me a slut, it’s so easy to get you worked up” Fane nipped at the shell of her ear his breath warm before he drew back. “And you’re the only one in the world that I’d ever let have this much control over me.” It seemed they were each their respective achilles heel, but for Faye he really couldn’t bring himself to care less about the harm she might bring to him if it meant being blessed with a fraction of her time.

Because to her he was worthy. Even if he wasn’t sure he would ever feel like he truly was.

Fane took another sip to mask his inclination to groaning at the pressure, he knew full well what she was doing and it was working. Faye turned and Fane glanced over his shoulder to follow her gaze, his heart was still thumping steadily in time to the lazy sway of the beat that was almost hypnotic. “My take on her? I think our good friend is infatuated,” Fane said in reference to Damien “he’s been making puppy eyes at her all night.” The topic of fun however, that had Fane turning, propping himself casually on the bar. “Love, if there’s one thing anyone on this island is down for… It’s fun. And her? Oh, she’ll certainly be down for it.”

“Just being with you makes me happy,” she said in return, a smile in her own voice. “But would it give me pleasure? To have that power over you? Yes, but only if you gave it to me freely.” In any other situation, Faye would have said no, that she didn’t want to have any sort of power over Fane. They were equals when it came to their personal lives. Each of them giving and taking as the situation required. Neither being jealous or feeling subordinated by the other. It was an equal partnership, and while some may have found it strange, for them it worked. That didn’t mean that they were always on the same page with everything. They argued fiercely sometimes. And didn’t always agree on the outcome. But it got handled. And they got over it. Moved on. Life was too bloody short.

She laughed, low and warm, as he whispered in her ear. The nip sent a rush of goosebumps over her skin, and she leaned against him. “I never deny it,” she said. It was no secret that he could work her into a panting frenzy with just his voice and a few choice words. It was also no secret that of all the people in the world, not one of them would dare try to control Fane Savin. No one that knew him at least. There were some that had tried. There were some that wanted to try (like Roger back home), but no one had the courage to look the man in the eye and call him out. Except for Faye. And perhaps Maya. But they weren’t just anyone.

“Ditto,” she said. Because they were each other weaknesses. Their one and only. Faye had spent her whole adult life working to avenge the death of the boy she’d loved since she was a child. While that same boy had stayed away, missing out on years and years, just to keep her safe. It was a tragic irony really. But they were together now, and Faye wasn’t going to take any of it for granted.

He was her forever. And for some reason, she was his. He loved her above all others, even after so long apart. And she would hold onto that for as long as forever might be. No matter who or what tried to get in their way.

“Damien? Infatuated?” Faye snorted. “Never.” She turned as well, leaning into his side as he posted against the bar. “You make puppy eyes at me,” Faye teased him, slipping an arm around his waist. “Let the man dote on her.” Faye hummed as Fane confirmed what she herself was thinking. That an employee of the casino would know where the best fun was to be had. As if they had heard Fane and Faye talking, Damien turned to find them and waved a hand, gesturing that they should follow. Cat was pulling him towards another section of the room.

“Looks like she might’ve already found something.” Faye tossed back the rest of her drink, already feeling muzzy-headed. She took Fane’s hand, though when her skin touched his it flared brightly, sending waves of color along his palm. It pulsed in time with his heartbeat. Faye blinked. “Did you see that?” Still pulling him along, walking backwards as she stared at their joined hands where color pulsed and faded and ran together with their pulses. “Am I hallucinating?” she grinned. If she was, it was the drink that done it.

There was a soft thump coming from where Cat and Damien had disappeared. A hallway that faded from the deep blue lights of the bar to deep purples and reds. Stone walls glittered, reflecting the lighting back on the guests. Faye saw ripples of color as she drug her fingers over the roughness of the rock. “Do you see that…” she murmured to herself.

Up ahead, Cat turned with a knowing grin, her arm looped through Damien’s. “Your friends tried the blue drink. I think it’s working,” she grinned up at him.

Damien, who was utterly taken with the witch, smiled back. “Then this should be fun, shouldn’t it? If anyone can down a hallucinogen and make the best of it, that man can.” He glanced back at Fane where he trailed along at Faye’s side. “They never disappoint. Promise.”

Cat grinned and they moved on through into the club. Bodies writhed in a huge central dance floor, long and rectangular and lowered two or three steps down into the stone to keep the masses contained. A large section to the right was the bar. Flooded with purple and blue orbs of light that kept changing shades as people came and went, the wall behind was filled with rows upon rows of bottles that reached up into the dark recesses of the ceiling. Chandeliers, brightly lit with multicolored forever burning candles, threw shadows onto the stone. Their flickering flames contrasted with the bright colors, but it somehow worked. Wax dripped down here and there, pooling on purposefully placed diases. Some held candles that were slowly rising towards the ceiling as wax constantly dripped. Others held bodies. Men and women that caught the wax on their skin, decorating themselves and watching others do the same.

Faye found herself unable to look away from the way the wax catchers hissed and arched away from the sting as the hot liquid fell onto their skin.

“You can try it, if you like,” Cat said as Faye and Fane caught up with them. “That’s what this place is. A showroom. Of sorts. There, see?” She pointed across the way. There were evenly spaced booths - large, dark, softly-lit spaces with a small stage and comfortable surrounding seats - each featuring a different ‘act.’ One held a woman telling fortunes. Another held a man performing intricate card tricks with a sentient deck of cards that kept snapping at his fingers. And yet another held a pair of contortionists bending their bodies around one another at impossible angles. Booths upon booths of entertainment, all of which Faye couldn’t stop staring at.

“If you want something a bit more exciting, we’ll have to go upstairs,” Cat said. “This is all a bit G-rated for me.” She tipped an eyebrow, and Damien looked at Faye and Fane a bit helpessly as Cat pulled him along up the stairs. “I didn’t come here for card tricks and fortune tellers.”

Faye blinked owlishly, watching them go and leave a trail of soft negative images behind. “I’m…” A grin twisted her face, and she turned her dark eyes on Fane. “...not interested in G-rated. Are you baby?” But she was already pulling him behind Damien and Cat. Up the stairs, down another hallway and through a curtained doorway.

The first thing Faye saw was the body of a woman displayed like an artpiece. Softly backlit, she was tied in intricate Shibari, eyes covered in black silk, with only one foot touching the ground. She was very much alive, as Faye could see her breathing softly as they approached. A man stood nearby in a black suit, watching the passersby carefully. He was also checking in with the woman periodically, to make sure she was still okay. But only when no one was admiring her.

They moved on down the way, stopping to admire a man that was being slowly encased in wax by a lovely woman with bright blue hair and a ring in her nose. The man was clearly aroused, but the woman was ignoring him, concentrating on the patterns of color the hot liquid was leaving on his skin.

“That looks like fun,” Faye said in a slightly dazed voice.

They moved on, admiring each centerpiece of living erotic art as they passed. When they had made their rounds and were deciding what to do next, a waitress came over and presented Fane with a small silver tray upon which lay a small white card, folded in half.

“From the gentleman in Booth 37. I believe he wants to meet you.” She tipped her head at Fane after he took the card, and then disappeared.

Faye frowned at Fane, looking at the mysterious letter. “Who would’ve sent that?” she asked, looking around as she stepped closer to him. Auror instincts flared to life without a second thought. Her wand was on her thigh, a familiar weight within easy reach should she need it. She knew Fane would sense her sudden tension, the subtle tightening of the hand around his waist, even if there were no other outward signs of it.

“He totally is, and if anyone knows what puppy eyes looks like it’s me considering I a hundred percent make them at you,” Fane’s grin was devillish as he wrapped her up in his arms hauling her close enough that he could bury his face against the curve of her neck. He pressed a few kisses to her skin, soft and utterly doting and affectionate. “Oh he wants to do more than that.” Fane had his eyes closed when she took his hand, though when she called his attention to something his eyes opened lazy and hooded from the drink they had both knocked back.

She was pulling him off then, but he blinked a couple of times a slow grin spreading across his features at the colour that radiated beneath their skin. “Maybe so…” his eyes moved from her hands up over her neck the lights serving to heighten the beating pulse and Fane found himself wetting his lips in anticipation as he was dragged further into the private lounge. While Faye explored the drink’s effects, Fane only had eyes for her, at least, he did up until the moment Damien’s commented and Fane could only grin. “Mm, if there’s one thing you’ll have with us love… It’s a bloody good time.”

The space beyond was unlike anything he’d ever seen, even since the last time he was here. Apparently they had done some expanding and renovating not to mention the general revamp this entire place had undergone. Fane’s gaze slowly dragged across the crowd and he felt his pulse thrum in response to the music the urge to drag Faye out under those lights and pull her flush… To feel her as purely as he could get her, loose and limber and entirely his to ravish. His fingers itched to drag her off, biting his lip in anticipation of everything that awaited them here. So many possibilities but before he could even say anything Faye was dragging him up the stairs and he felt his throat and something else tighten. Though this just earned a low grunt of discomfort as he made his way up the stairs a little more stiff than he might normally would have been.The things that lay beyond didn’t serve to help either, and Fane was already getting the idea of the things he could do to-- no, he shouldn’t think on those things. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to endure this enforced chastity considering the amount of times he’d had to deal with the fact he very much wasn’t able to let his body run the normal course in terms of what it very much wanted to show its appreciation to all this display.

“Maybe I could tie you up like that,” he said as they walked on around the display that is until a staff member approached and Fane stared at them for a very long moment, eyes unfocused but nevertheless plucked the paper up regardless. Unfurling it he scanned the contents humming thoughtfully, “apparently I’m owed a drink of congratulations.” There was a symbol on the paper though, one Fane recognised but he folded it up and tucked it into his pocket. “I think I’m just going to see who this is… You three keep browsing, you can tell me if there’s something you’d like to try later then hm?” Fane doubted it would work, but it was worth a try regardless he supposed.

The display was certainly unlike anything Faye had ever seen. Cat and Damien walked a bit ahead of them, whispering close together, much as she and Fane were doing. Faye let them be, her attentions solely on the man with his arm around her waist. She marveled at how well he handled what she was putting him through. As she always did when she pushed his limits. Though tonight was hardly the most torturous thing she’d ever done to him. Far from it. But it would be worth his patience in the end, Faye would make sure of it.

Faye grinned at the thought of him going over her body with such intricate knotwork. She had just leaned up to say something salacious when a woman approached with a letter for Fane. Faye blinked at him, much as he had the letter-bearer, and then again as he tucked away the missive before she could get a decent look at it. Faye looked at Fane, the lights moving under his skin fading ever so slightly as she pushed against the effects of the drink. For a moment, the most subtle of looks passed between them. One that told him to be careful, and that she didn’t like him going off alone to meet some stranger, even if it was safe here. And even if he could take care of himself just fine. But the glassiness returned to her eyes soon enough, and Faye blinked again, giving his waist a squeeze. “Alright.” One more hooded glance and she made her way over to Cat and Damien.

Faye whispered something to Damien, and he looked back at Fane over shoulder, slipping an arm around her waist and giving the other man a subtle tilt of his head. It was less than ten seconds worth of silent conversation before Damien was turning his attentions back to Faye and Cat, and they moved on around the display.

She didn’t ever need to tell him to be careful, he hadn’t survived this long without a certain degree of precaution and necessary measures. Careful calculations of the risks and benefits of entering into certain situations. The message was a surprise but Fane also hardly figured he would leave tonight without talking to his opponent in some degree or another. A polite request in a letter was a rather nice formality in all honesty and part of why Fane was curious to speak with the Russian.

Contacts and connections never hurt to build even on holiday getaways. Fane knew also the questioning look Damien sent him but a small shake of his head, colours flaring over his vision as he did so, told the man it wasn’t something to worry over.

“Take care of my babygirl, hm? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” he called after them grinning lazily as they walked on. Only when they turned the corner did he turn glancing at a booth number before he sauntered to the one in question. Number thirty-seven. A looming body guard stood on a silent vigil outside though Fane was let through after flashing the card. Stepping into the silenced interior to see his opposition from earlier in the night sipping on teal coloured beverage. Fane said nothing but did move to take the seat opposite pulling out a smoke and popping it between his lips, a wave of his fingers lit the end and he inhaled lazily.

“Surprised to hear from you so soon, looking for me to take more of your money hm?” Fane grinned roguishly knowing it was a ballsy statement given how much he had walked off with earlier in the night.

The man sitting in the booth merely smiled back at Fane around the large cigar he was smoking. He set it aside after a moment, exhaling as he watched Fane take the seat across the table. “The list of people who have bested me - at anything - is very short, Mr. Savin. Why wouldn’t I want to meet you?” The way he looked at Fane would have unnerved most men. A calculating, curious look, that was both neutral and yet… so very much not.

“And I’m never looking to have my money leave my possession. But…” He shrugged, as if it were something mundane and innocuous that had been lost, and not millions of dollars. “It happens from time to time.” He picked up the cigar and took another long puff. “So how are you enjoying the island this time? I see you brought a guest. She’s very beautiful.” He tapped the ashes into the tray. “Though some would say bringing an Auror to a place like this is in bad taste.”

There was no threat in the man’s words. Not really. But the conversation within a conversation said, ‘I know who you are. I know who she is. And I’m not the only one.’

Fane’s posture was, by virtue of his position, indolent to say the least; legs splayed lazily and the cigarette hanging from his fingers occasionally being raised to his mouth for a shallow drag before being pulled away and lightly ashed over the tray in the middle of the room. The scent of the cigar was strong, but Fane had spent a lifetime around the stuff to barely even let it faze him anymore. This was just as much a poker match as earlier even if the chips weren’t visibly on the table to count. So being studied, Fane remained nonchalant as ever and waited the Russian out. “Very short hm? So like you then?” it could have been interpreted rudely with how Fane grinned almost sharkishly as smoke in lines from his nostrils directing it away from the man opposite. “Now, while I am rather impressive company, I do suspect there’s more reason to you wishing to see me than simple congratulations being in order.”

The question about the island and his enjoyment of it caused Fane to reach for his drink and take a sip fingers tapping against the glass thoughtfully as he set it down. Was it worthwhile speaking to this man? Though he also seemed to already know who they were. So it was hardly anything new Fane supposed. “I’ve always enjoyed my retreats here-- a place you can do almost anything you want? Why wouldn’t anyone want to come to such a place?”

His direct mention of Faye’s occupation caused Fane to tilt his head, it was his turn to analyse the man sat opposite him. Fane knew a threat when he heard it, but this, as far as he could tell was general curiosity over why she was here. Whether there was an ulterior motivation at work here. “Well I can assure you, I have rather impeccable taste and… I must say she’s no average run of the mill auror. Though that’s a title she left behind when we decided to come here for a while.”

Contrary to Fane’s posture, the Russian sat easily reclined, but legs crossed ankle over knee. Body turned at an angle to Fane’s, one hand holding the cigar, the other gesturing as he spoke. “Very much like me,” the man grinned at Fane’s comment. “Though with that logic, one would assume your own list is a bit longer than most.” The same sort of tone carried the words through the smoke-filled air. But his demeanor changed a bit as Fane got to the point.

“Even now you see through me. I quite like that. Not many - another short list - would speak to me so openly. Which is why I find myself wanting to give you something else tonight.”

He laughed. “Why indeed? A paradise with no consequences. A place where anything you want is possible. Where everything is completely safe. Unlike the outside world.” The comment could have been innocuous, made to mean the world in general, but something in the man’s tone said it wasn’t. That it was far more specific to Fane himself.

Sokolov laughed again, though it was a different laugh. One that said he didn’t quite believe Fane’s claims about his auror companion. “A title, perhaps. But an Auror is always an Auror. No matter how… above-average they may be. The same can be said for many other… titles.” Savin could take that however he liked. Though not being one to play the long game once he’d made up his mind about something, the man leaned forwards. “My point being, Mr. Savin, is that - among other things - I’ve heard a rumor.” He glanced around, as if the booth wasn’t already sound-proofed and spell proof. “A rumor that you’re the new Dark Lord.”

“I never said it was logical, though I probably have a longer list of people who have tried to beat me and found out the hard way that isn’t something that very often happens.” Fane shrugged ever so slightly at the comment about him cutting through the crap, “You’ve seen the beautiful woman that is waiting on my return and I am admittedly very loathe to keep her doing so for too long. I’d rather speak plainly than in riddles.”

Fane’s expression remained neutral, though his eyes lingered on the Russian curious about what he might have to offer. “Part of the reason so many of us retreat here, who wants a reality that’s terrible when you could live in a place where every indulgence is catered for?” Unfortunately, Fane knew that was no option. Faye was too dedicated to her work to truly leave it especially in such a place with so many untethered ends.

“You’d be surprised,” Fane commented with a grin “she really isn’t like any other Auror you’ll have the opportunity to miss, I mean-- what other Auror you know would be in a place like this and not be wound up in trying to shut it down and arrest every person involved hm?” It said a lot about Faye, who she was and what she was willing to do with him and no one else. Fane did run his tongue along his teeth though when the Russian mentioned his rumour, and an icy chill shuddered down his spine “and rumour has it you’re a cheater and a thief,” Fane waved his hand idly “doesn’t mean there’s any truth to it… Do I really look like the sort interested in world domination?”

“Not much surprises me, these days, Mr. Savin, but I’ll take your word for it, hm?” He tapped his cigar again. “And you obviously trust her.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. Though there was a hint of something else in the words. Still not a question, but more… as if the Russian wizard were trying to make Fane ask a question in return.

A low laugh trickled from the man’s throat as Fane countered him. “Yes. I’ve heard that. It’s the gloves, I know. But if you must know, I wear them to keep myself safe from any… charms or other nonsense some of these players try to slip onto the cards. Not so I can cheat. Though as you know, the cards are protected, just like the rest of the island. All very safe. But I’d prefer not to take chances. And of course, just because I also happen to be a very good judge of other people, and a very good card player, I must be cheating. No one could ever be that skilled at something.”

Sokolov watched the reaction - or mostly lack thereof - that rolled through the other man at the mention of the rumor attached to his own name. “Appearances mean nothing, Mr. Savin. But perspective. Perspective means everything. To me you look like a man that wants to forget the world at large. And the pain its caused you. You have no interest in ruling over anyone. You simply want to be left alone with the few things you still hold dear.” Another small pause, in which Sokolov stared at Fane very intently. “You and I are very similar, Mr Savin. We’ve both been accused - more than once - of being something other than what we are. Simply because of who we are.”

He fell quiet after that, leaning back and puffing his cigar. Waiting to see if there were any other questions to come. Though he felt certain there were. A man like Fane Savin wasn’t going to leave after a few shadowy remarks. He would need more than that. How much more remained to be seen. Though even Sokolov’s well of information had a bottom, loathe as he would be to admit.

If Sokolov was expecting another question from Fane in regards to what he wanted and why he was interested he would be sorely disappointed. Faye wasn’t their present topic of discussion and thus wouldn’t be mentioned unless necessary. Fane was fighting against the effects of the drug which while they were softening everything was something he fought against to try and keep a sharpness that was surprising by most standards. But then this was hardly surprising, Fane had endured far worse over the years than a few hallucinogenic drinks.

“You know I did debate asking you to take them off earlier, just for the shits and giggles of watching everyone else’s faces when you lost” cocky perhaps but it was all in good humour. Fane knew that going into that confrontation at the poker table you had to have a large degree of self-belief to sell the sort of bluffs they were. “Guess we’re both used to people making assumptions about us then,” and it was all Fane had to say on the topic because he knew as well as the man sat opposite him that this place was charmed against fraudsters.

“The question there is whose perspective then,” Fane drilled his fingers lightly against the tabletop passing over Sokolov’s assumptions about what he understood from looking at him. He was right of course, Fane had spent almost the entirety of his adult life running so the real world wouldn’t catch up. Had Faye not found him he very well would have continued along that train of thought and lifestyle until he ended up in some unassuming grave somewhere. Alcohol poisoning or something just as unassuming he supposed. “And because of our interests, considering magic isn’t inherently bad in my opinion… The intent of its user however? Well, I would argue that’s the true evil in this world” Fane fell silent as he took another inhale of smoke, filling his lungs and exhaling it in a small cloud the trails intermingling with the thick scent of tobacco from the cigar in his companion’s mouth.

“So first things first, this is related to the investigation back in London? It’s related to me? Or… these people that think I’m some new-dawn messiah?” Fane was far from an idiot, and it hardly seemed a far stretch to link the pieces considering who had been targeted. Old order members? People who had fought and defended some of the few pieces of goodness in the world? No Death Eaters. Which meant it was some sort of unhinged group of fanatics. “Question is, what do you know about them and more importantly, how?”

“The perspective of someone very dangerous. I don’t have a name, or I would give it to you.” Whether Savin believed him or not was up to the man himself. All Sokolov could do was impart the information. He nodded as Savin added to what the Russian had already said. “As much I agree with you, that it’s not the magic, but the intent, that makes something dark or evil, there are many others who don’t share my opinion. Others who would use those… interests… against you in any way they could.” A small warning, perhaps, to be careful in his pursuits. Sokolov wasn’t privy to the things Fane got up to in his spare time, or the less than popular practices he experimented with. He simply knew that when someone already looked at you like you were a bad person, any little pieces could add fuel to the fire.

“Yes. To everything.” It was all connected. Or so it seemed from what Sokolov had heard. “Your return to London… from the dead, as it were. The continued murders of the Order of the Phoenix. The Morsmordre in the sky over London? The death of that boy, and your role in it, indirect though it may have been. Your partner being the lead investigator on the case already. Who just happens to make you a consultant? A man accused of being a Death Eater since he was a child. A very infamous name, your family’s. Puts you very close to everything. All the inside information you could ever need.”

A cloud of acrid smoke rose into the air as Sokolov exhaled. “I have my sources that keep me abreast of any information that might be useful. I’ve told you all I know. Except…” He leaned forwards again, his eyes focused intently on Fane’s. “They know everything they need to know to hurt you, Mr. Savin. Everything. And everyone.”

“Do you have anything that links to them? Or some way I can try to get more information?” Fane had his own back channels but even then without some sort of name or point of reference it would be hard to truly pinpoint anything in particular. Though the mention of interests… Fane narrowed his eyes a little, the first real reaction garnered since the start of this conversation. Nothing was specifically mentioned, but it didn’t mean that it couldn’t be insinuated and Fane sat back, rubbing his mouth as he fought back a sigh. Of course. A lifetime of being accused of something only to have to return when he’d finally started trying to make a case for his own innocence.

How many more times could he be expected to fight this same battle? Could anyone truly judge him for being bone fucking weary of it? Of a mantle he’d carried since he was eleven and thought he was going mad when he’d nearly broken the sorting hat or heard whispers in his head. Voices that no one else could hear? Voices about cleansing and purifying the school so only those worthy could attend?

Years of a place that was a world away from what he’d experienced at Durmstrang but years that had slowly chipped away the pure innocence of a naive young boy who thought he might stand a chance of proving himself as something other than what his family legacy coloured him to be? Was it any real wonder then why he’d all but faked his death when the opportunity arose? To let the world thing him gone so that if only for a little while he might live a normal life. Anonymous and walk amongst people simply as another one of them.

But that would never be the case. His whole life would be spent running it seemed. The thought caused his heart to sink, and suddenly he didn’t want to stay. Because hearing it laid out in front of him… Fane closed his eyes for a long moment, but the emotions that were clouding him were categorised and put down. “So where should I start? I can’t very well hunt down people who I barely have any leads on can I?” And how could he protect those he cared about if he didn’t know who or what was coming for them? “I’m not running this time…” Fane seemed slightly more resigned but no less determined “but I need something to work from if I’m going to get ahead of this…” Fane’s eyes lifted to Sokolov’s then, steady and intense the drug all but worn off through sheer force of will “is there anything else you can think of that might be able to help me?”

Sokolov set his cigar aside and leaned forwards, steepling his fingers. “All I have is my source. I haven’t sought any information on my own. I only know what I’ve been told. However…” A flick of his hand and a small card appeared, very much like the one Fane had received earlier. “I can give you this.” It was a set of initials and an address. “Memorize it. The card will burn itself once you read it. Give them my name, and they’ll speak with you. Once. So don’t waste it.”

The Russian wizard watched the younger man with what might have been sympathy. He knew Savin’s history, knew his family name and what had happened during the Second War. He’d lost people in those dark years. Perhaps that was also why he was offering what help he could. To prevent another descent into madness. Into the shadow of a maniacal would-be ruler. Not that he believed Savin was that person. But there were people who did. And there was darkness in the younger man. The Death Eaters had seen it years ago. Tried to exploit it. His own family had tried to lull him to the dark. But he’d been stronger than all that. Stronger than the Dark Lord himself, Voldemort.

And that very fact - little known though it was - seemed to be the catalyst. The keystone - that partnered with his chance arrival back from the dead - that had sent Savin’s name spiraling out into the ether. A name that had been snatched and twisted and turned towards a purpose the man himself had no interest in.

“In my experience, the enemy you should fear most is always closer than you think. And it’s not always a person. Seek out the name on the card. If you ask the right questions, they’ll have the answers. Though it may cost you.” He knew what he was saying sounded misleading. But it was really all he knew. If he had had specifics, perhaps he would have given them, but as it was, he didn’t. “The only other thing I can tell you is to trust what you know. Never doubt it. No matter what the truth may seem to be.” It was nothing if not cryptically foreBut shadowing. Sokolov sat back then, taking up his cigar. “I wish you luck, Mr. Savin. You and yours. And I sincerely hope this is not the last time we speak.”

Fane took the proffered card, but didn’t look at it immediately as Sokolov explained what would happen once he did. Instead, he pocketed it for when he wasn’t fuelled up on a drug infused haze. “Do you think you could look into it for me? Or at least put a few feelers out in your network?” Fane knew that Sokolov owed him nothing, but for this Fane was willing to owe a favour himself regardless of how dangerous that was in their line of work.

There was an innate strength him that few had, but it didn’t make it any easier for him to withstand a lifetime of things whispered behind his back. Of looks and accusations to things he’d never been nor would ever be. There was darkness in him, perhaps more than the average person but darkness he tried to wrestle on a daily basis and more often than not managed to overcome. Demons could hardly darken his world when he had people like Faye around to help shine a light to chase that darkness away. Would Fane go mad? Perhaps, perhaps not. He would hardly be the first in his position or family to lose a few screws along the way if that was the way things went.

The warning, cryptic as it was caused Fane to look at the older man long and hard for a moment. He’d spent his life on the run, being accused of so many falsities it seemed that this was all setting up for yet another one to come and Fane wasn’t sure he would be able to do this many times more than he had already. “Right…” Fane said in answer to the given warning, but it seemed there was nothing more to be said of aid and he sighed ashing his cigarette and knocking back the last of his drink. “I suppose that’s yet to be seen…” Fane rose from his perch and a part of him debated leaving, but custom and formality considering the fact this man owed him nothing caused Fane to reach out a hand to shake before adding. “Thank you…”

And with that, Fane left feeling more dazed than he knew what to do with.

Sokolov considered Fane’s question for a moment. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll see what I can find. But only because I like you, Mr. Savin.” A twist of his mouth showed a row of very white teeth. “You remind me very much of myself when I was a young man, if you can believe it.” The owing of a favor went unsaid. It was what it was among those who moved in certain circles. Nothing needed to be said aloud.

He watched Savin consider his last words, and when the younger wizard extended his hand, Sokolov shook it firmly and nodded. “You’re welcome. Best of luck.”

****

Outside, Faye had set her drink aside, not caring to be without her wits anymore tonight. The colors still played over her vision wherever she looked, but the displays and all their erotic beauty did nothing for her. Her mind was elsewhere. Back with Fane. Something didn’t feel right. Though she knew it could have been overthinking on her part. Though Damien seemed as if he was trying just a bit too hard to keep her attention, whereas before he’d been fully focused on Cat. Again, that might simply have been her thoughts running away with her.

Either way, she was entirely distracted from anything other than waiting for Fane to show back up. When he did, his familiar silhouette moving through the deep purples and blues of the room’s lighting, she watched him closely, but didn’t say anything just yet.

“There you are,” Damien called, still with the same jovial tone he’d had all night. “I was thinking you’d forgotten about us. With all your new-found fame.” Cat merely watched the exchange with quiet curiosity, her arm looped through Damien’s.

With the meeting finished, Fane cut through the crowds of people quietly. His eyes not half so dazed as they were when he had departed, but considering what he’d learned it was hardly surprising. He spotted Damien first and then Cat, and Faye not a short distance from them. The sight of them immediately sent a wash of relief through him, not that this was evident but his expression immediately grew brighter as he approached and took a moment to give Damien a hug. “How could I ever forget you all? The most gorgeous people in this place.”

“Straight up we are,” Damien cheersed and took a sip of his drink glancing back at Cat with a playful little smile. “See, told you he’s a fun one.”

“Never doubted you to lie about anything like that doll,” Cat purred as she leaned in and lightly nipped at Damien’s ear causing the man himself to grin brightly.

Fane moved straight over to Faye then where she was sat and naturally sat down beside her, his arm slid around her waist and he pulled her in close. Dipping his head he caught her mouth in a lazy and utterly languid kiss, a silent way of saying thank you for waiting. A promise that he would make it up to her.

Faye did her best to smile along with the others as Fane returned. But as much as the expression passed across her face, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Not that anyone would notice. Fane slipped his arm around her, and she leaned into him, kissing him back just as slowly. Her hand raised to touch his face, and she looked him in the eye when they broke apart.

“I’m not feeling so well,” she told him quietly. “I think I’d like to go back to the room.” It was the first time she’d asked anything of the sort for the entire trip. Faye had been perfectly content to spend their nights trying any and everything that they could. Whatever felt good. Whatever tasted good. Whatever she hadn’t tried before. But right now… right now she just didn’t feel like it.

Fane’s return had eased Damien as well, and he turned to converse quietly with Cat. The two laughed at a private joke, and Damien turned to his friend. “So what’s on the agenda now that you’ve rejoined us?” he asked. “Should we sample something new? Or try one of these for ourselves?” He gestured around at the art gallery.

It was certainly uncommon to say the least for Faye to ask for anything of the sort, and so as she spoke in a soft sotto tone his head tilted. Quizzical and a little unsure what might be the matter. He knew his departure had been a little bit of a surprise but it hadn’t been anything he thought would worry her all that much. Fane’s thumb gently brushed over her chin and then her cheek as he studied her, but a small dip of his head was enough for her to know he’d heard what she’d asked.

Even if he’d been rather looking forward to sharing the evening with the others.

But they had a couple nights more he supposed. They could make up for it another night perhaps.

When Damien inquired about what their plans tonight were Fane’s smile was slightly smaller, seemingly more tired. “I’m feeling a little tired after everything tonight, bit overwhelmed with everything that’s happened… So, I think I’m going to call it an early one tonight...” Damien’s smile faltered a little replaced with a small frown of concern that Fane waved off. “Raincheck, we’ll make up for it I promise you can have some fun with me in any one of these you fancy… Have some fun with your lovely darling I think she deserves your undivided attention.”

Cat glanced between them at the exchange but she smiled, lightly placing a hand on Damien’s chest, “maybe we can try a few out, find out which ones are the best?”

Faye gave a minute shake of her head to Fane’s questioning look, saying that it wasn’t worth discussing here. Fane understood, as she was certain he would, and made his apologies to the others. Faye felt a bit bad for ruining the night, and started to tell him that she could go back to the room and he could stay if he wished. But she didn’t say anything just then. She truly didn’t feel all that well now that she thought about it. Fane’s mysterious meeting had only made the feeling more apparent. But for the time being she blamed it on the drink. Cat had said that not many people could handle it. Perhaps that’s all it was.

Either way, Faye wasn’t sure she could fully enjoy the rest of the night with the swirling feeling in her belly and chest. She caught the look that crossed Damien’s face, but pretended not to notice. Cat seemed to notice too - her observational skills coming in very handy it seemed - and made quick work of distracting her date with more pleasant ideas.

“Well… since you twisted my arm…” he said, the grin returning to his face. Though he gave Fane one more look that said he wasn’t far if Fane or Faye needed anything.

Faye bid the couple goodnight as well, embracing them both before she and Fane headed home.

Once there, she moved off to the bathroom, taking off the gown and taking the time to hang it up before pulling her hair down and wetting a rag with cold water to press over her face. “I’m sorry,” she said out into the bedroom. “If you wanna go back… I’m fine, really.” She wasn’t, but she had to give him the option anyway. Not that he would take it.

Fane would never leave her alone, especially not after what he’d been discussing with Sokolov but neither would he complain about it. So when Damien gave him a look Fane understood fully Fane smiled and brushed Faye’s back before the pair of them started to wander back to the villa. Fane was quiet on the journey, and while he hadn’t been planning on coming back his main concern was Faye.

Explaining why when they stepped into the villa and Faye headed for the bathroom Fane looked over at her, a frown of concern for her apparent on his features. He took a moment to pull off his jacket and hang it up, prior to moving to sit down on the edge of the bed, though grimaced a little in discomfort at the pressure between his legs but he pushed the thought away. Focussing instead on her. “Bull,” he said plainly to her insistence that she was fine “don’t lie to me love. What’s wrong?” He couldn’t stand to sit there, and so a moment later was stood and loosening off his belt.

“Actually-- first-- Can you get this thing off me?” Fane asked regarding the cage he was still wearing because there was no real point in wearing it if there wasn’t to be any sort of reward for the effort he’d gone all day with. Not that he minded, though his frustrations had been notching through the day and some relief would be more than welcome. It also would mean he could focus entirely on her. Once it was gone he sighed, leaving his belt unhooked he leaned on the door “so… are you okay?”

Faye felt slightly guilty about putting him through so much torture all evening and then it not coming to anything. No pun intended. The look on her face as she freed him said that well enough. But it couldn’t be helped for the moment. At least he wasn’t the type - usually - to have petty grievances. Especially when there was a larger issue at hand.

She leaned her hip against the counter, watching him after she’d relieved him of his confinement. She was stood in her underwear and nothing but. Her hair was over her shoulders, covering her chest, and her arms were crossed beneath. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I feel… ill. I think it was the drink.” Faye searched his face, looking for any sign that something had happened while he was away from their group. There was nothing but his usual look of concern for her.

“What did that man want? Really?” Because that was where the unsettling feeling had started. And if it could all be played up to having too much of a hallucinogen, which may or may not have made her slightly paranoid as a side-effect, then so be it. But she needed to hear it from Fane.

Fane said nothing as Faye spelled the device away, there was no need to make a scene or cause a fuss. It was hardly a massive inconvenience in his life and certainly something that was manageable. It would hardly be the first time he’d endured something of the sort so her concerns and offers to make it up were waved off without any thought for himself.

He didn’t bother to conceal how his eyes moved over her in the mirror, undressed as she was Fane would always admire her unabashedly. Why shouldn’t he? She was the love of his life and the woman he wanted to spend his life with. Not to mention she was stunning, but his frown remained and the expression pinched his forehead in a few thin lines along with his eyes as he stepped up behind her. “You feel sick?” he asked moving to wrap his arms around her until his own settled over her hands crossed over her stomach.

Her question was hardly unsurprising or unanticipated. You could take the person out of the role, but not the role out of the person it seemed. “To talk, about our reputations mostly, apparently he doesn’t use the gloves to cheat he uses them to stop jinxes and spells that might be on the cards affecting him-- go figure.” Fane knew he was leaving out details, but if she truly wasn’t feeling well then Fane didn’t want to flatten her with heavy information. It could wait until she was feeling better and they did only have a few days left. A few days wouldn’t hurt.

Faye’s expression softened just a bit as he looked her over. His gaze, directed at her in such a manner, was like a warm blanket; a comfort when she was feeling out of sorts. She didn’t hide from him, as always. And when he came over, wrapping her up, she leaned back into him. “A little,” she said. “I think that drink didn’t settle too well with me is all.”

It was to Faye’s credit that until tonight she hadn’t let anything affect their holiday. Not work, not the outside world, not her occupation. She was here to be with Fane, because they deserved it. Because Fane deserved it. For all the sacrifices he’d made for her. For her job. For the case that was waiting for them when they returned. But tonight she had to speak, feeling unsettled enough to do so. Fane’s answer settled her some, however. He wouldn’t lie to her, she knew. “Huh. I would’ve figured him a cheat,” Faye huffed, leaning her head back on Fane’s shoulder. “But I can admit when I’m wrong.” A small smile moved over her face, and she looked at their reflection in the mirror. Fane’s taller form nearly engulfing her shorter one. His dark features contrasting her lighter ones. They were quite handsome together, she thought. Though she was a bit biased about the man she planned to spend her life with.

Fane would never look on her with anything other than pure and undivided adoration, she deserved nothing less than that in its entirety. So having her wrapped up in his arms, her back pressed to his chest left him feeling secure that at least for now everything was good with the world. His mouth pressed to her head, an open mouth kiss, once, twice, three times before it lingered there. “Then why don’t we get a bath and have an early night?” his hand left where it was wrapped around her midriff to trail up and cup one of her breasts in his palm. Nothing enticing just savouring being able to touch and cradle her close like this.

“Appearances can be deceiving,” he mumbled in her ear smiling as he nuzzled against her affectionately. He met her gaze in the mirror and smiled though it was half hidden by her hair. “I love you, so much.”

Faye’s eyes closed finally as he kissed her head. Fane was always affectionate no matter where they were (other than the places they’d agreed not to be, like the Ministry or in public while working). Faye hated having to impose limits. She hated telling him no. Hated not being able to give him everything and anything he wanted. For that was all she wanted in this world: Fane’s happiness. Her own was irrelevent. Because when he was happy, so was she. He deserved everything. Deserved to stop running, stop looking over his shoulder, stop worrying about who was whispering behind his back.

“That sounds perfect.” She hummed her approval of his caress, threading the fingers of her other hand with the one that remained on her belly. He was warm, and the weight of him against her settled the sick feeling that had risen up earlier. It was mostly gone now, and she laughed a bit as he nuzzled her ear. “They can be,” she said. Her laugh sobered a bit as he spoke again, and she watched him intently in their reflection. “I love you, too. More than anything.”

Fane had been deprived of so much in his lifetime, sometimes it felt like he had to do his best to make up for it. So moments like these, shared with Faye where he could show her his appreciation for everything she was and everything she did were seized without hesitation. He couldn’t ever let one pass him by, and he didn’t want to. Faye deserved everything he could give to her and it was one of the many reasons he was often so frustrated in having to adhere to her rules. Because he wanted to hold her hand in public, wanted to kiss her without the worry of who might be worrying and judging.

Because for as wonderful as things were, as much as he managed their lives back in London that concern was an ever-present constant. Coming to this island had only made him all the more aware of how happy he was to simply be able to live a life with her where there were no worries other than their respective happiness. To appreciate her as fully as he wanted. This was the life he wanted when they went home, wanted normalcy, wanted to settle down, maybe have a family one who - who knows? But how could they ever have that sort of life when they could barely even allow themselves to hold hands in public because of how it might be interpreted. What he wanted and where things seemed to be stuck at seemed like such a world apart Fane was partly resigning himself to the fact that maybe those things were just meant to be dreams.

Faye cared too much for her job to need to be worrying about anything other than that right now, he would make do. He always would. Taking her hand and pulling her over to the large bathtub he started filling it with hot water. After a long soak they both dried off and fell into bed Fane’s arms lazily wrapped around her and cradling her close as they chatted idly and listened to the quietness of the island. Fane lay awake, pondering what might await them and everything he was going to have to do.

The truth was, Faye thought about leaving her job all the time. She’d made it her life for nearly twenty years. Since she was barely out of school. Since she’d thought Fane had died. She had done all of it, become who she was, for him. Because the pain she’d felt when she’d lost him had been nearly too much to bear.

She’d done it all for him, and now… now he was here, warm and real and just as in love with her as she was with him. She’d started along this path because she’d thought he was dead. So now that he was very much alive, now that they wanted to build a life together, why not let it end? Let it end, and let the new chapter of their lives begin? Faye was certain that’s what she wanted. She saw the toll it took on Fane. How he held back because she asked him too. Because it wasn’t safe. Faye wanted more than anything to announce to the world that she was his. That she was his and he was hers. And dare anyone to say otherwise. But they couldn’t. Not yet. Not until this case was done. Not until the danger it posed to them was gone. Because that was Faye’s main concern. That someone would come after them. Come after Fane. Did she want anyone else to get hurt? Did she want anyone else to die? No, of course not. But in the end, if came down to them or Fane? Faye would let the world burn to keep him safe.

Fane wasn’t sure in all honesty how much longer he could keep doing this, but also knew that no matter what that would hold out for as long as it to Faye to say the words herself and not just because he wanted her to. Despite the toll her job took she enjoyed the good she did and impact on the world her work had no matter how small it might be. But what was it all for if she gave her all only to sacrifice her own life, their life together for it? This trip was just an indicator of how much he wanted this, and Fane knew going back to the secrets and deceptions would be harder with the taste of could have been.

[aurorasilverthorne]

Equivalent Exchange Part #1: Proposition

Another Esteriki AU! Hopefully this one is much more in tune with their actual personalities! As I've said before, everyone's got their favorite ship for EoA and this one's mine, so please don't leave rude comments. I love feedback, so feel free to comment, or you can PM me. I'm on Tumblr, Fanfiction.net, Wattpad, Archives of Our Own and Deviantart.

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Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!!! All the characters belong to Disney.

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Queen Elena was dying and Princess Isabel was not interested in ruling, yet Avalor still needed a healthy, competent leader. The responsibility fell on Esteban-once again. The chancellor would secure his kingdom's future by any means necessary.

Elena's condition only worsened. Eventually, she couldn't get out of bed without assistance. Isabel fomally gave up her claim to the throne designating Esteban as the heir.

Esteban knew he had to protect his kingdom. He refused to forfeit any of the advantages a magic enfused bloodline could offer. With Elena dying, and Isabel unable to do magic, the only woman he could name with the power to protect Avalor was the same sorceress who had slain his aunt and uncle.

Instead of executing her, Elena and her councilors had locked Shuriki in the deepest, darkest dungeon they could find. The only key to unlock the witch's cell was kept in the royal treasury where only the queen and those closest to her could find it.

Esteban at least had the decency to wait until his cousin passed on to take action. He convinced Isa to serve as his emissary in Cordoba. Ms. Turner and Lieutenant Núñez would go with her and serve as her guard and advisor. He even made some arrangements for Mateo to attend Hexley Hall where he'd earn a real magical education. Higgins would become captain of the guard in Avalor while Armando retained his role as the head steward of Avalor palace.

Once the arrangements for his coronation were made, Esteban did what he could to reassure his people that he would be a merciful, decisive and steadfast ruler.

Shuriki was waiting for him in the throne room when he returned from seeing Isa, Gabe, Naomi and Mateo off. The witch had aged a bit since he'd last seen her, then again, so had he. They both had white hair, age spots and crows feet at the corners of their eyes. Laugh lines, however, were very few and far between.

Shuriki folded her arms. "Why have you brought me here, Esteban? What use am I to you now? All of Avalor already rests at your feet."

"This is true." Esteban lowered himself down onto the throne with a soft groan as his joints protested with a barely audible pop. "I have...a proposition for you."

Shuriki quirked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

His foot was trying to fall asleep. All the physicians he'd spoken to told him it was poor circulation due to old age. He could only imagine how Shuriki felt beings she was at least a decade older than him.

"Armando?"

The steward stepped forward. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Bring Shuriki a chair, please."

"Of course, Your Majesty. Right away."

"Thank you, Armando."

"Oh, enough with the pleasantries," Shuriki huffed, "just get to the point."

Esteban leaned back in his throne. "You really need to calm down. It's not as though you have somewhere else to be."

Shuriki glared up at him. "You're pretty smug for a man who inherited all of his power through mere circumstance."

Esteban sighed. Dealing with Shuriki had always been exasperating. Time, it seemed, had not dulled her tongue or slowed her wit. "Do you want to be a queen again or not?"

The sorceress narrowed her eyes at him. "What's the catch?"

"What makes you think there is one?"

"There's always a catch."

"This is true too," Esteban admitted. "Higgins!"

The captain of his royal guard stepped forward with a respectful salute. "Yes, sir?"

"Please present Shuriki with my proposal."

Shuriki snatched the paper out of Higgins' hand and read a few lines. Esteban bit the inside of his cheek to ensure he would not laugh when her eyes widened. "Have you completely lost your mind?!"

Esteban calmy folded his hands in his lap. Secretly, he couldn't help enjoying her reaction. "Something wrong?"

"This is a marriage contract!"

Esteban managed to retain his calm, cool, collected exterior. It wasn't easy though. Shuriki's expression bordered on hilarity. Twas, in his option, a perfect blend of fear, outrage and disbelief.

"You-" Shuriki couldn't even form words.

Esteban listened as her feelings manifested in a cry of indignant rage. It wasn't the first time she had made such a noise, nor would it be the last, he was sure. As he had many times in the past, Esteban sat there while she seethed like a rabid jaquin. "Are you done?"

She huffed then plopped herself down in the chair the steward had brought in for her and folded her arms in a way that made her displeasure obvious.

"The terms are simple. Once we have married, you will be queen, but only in name. I am the one who will deal with matters of state and all things pertaining to the kingdom's welfare. You will be in charge of the palace and making the arrangements for all of the kingdom's holidays and other celebrations including Navidad and Carnaval. You will also accompany me when I attend public events so everyone will know we are united in all things."

"Now hold on a minute-!"

"Your main concern as a queen, however, will be to provide heirs."

Shuriki fell out of her chair. "What?!"

"As rulers we must make certain that Avalor has a stable future. I can think of no better way to do so than to ensure we have a little príncipe or princesa to take the throne in case anything ever happens to one or both of us."

Shuriki scoffed at him. "Have you looked in a mirror lately? Look at me, Esteban! Do I look like I'm in any condition to bear a child? Even if I were insane enough to agree with your terms, we're too old!"

Esteban just stared down at the displaced sorceress with an arched brow and a smug smile.

Shuriki narrowed her eyes at him when she saw the wicked gleam in his eye. "What?"

Esteban pulled two tiny vials from the pocket of his coat. "If I've learned anything from you and Elena, it is to always be prepared."

Shuriki eyed said vials as if they were small snakes coiled and ready to strike out at a moment's notice. Both seemed identical in size, shape and quantity. She didn't know what to make of the clear liquid inside. Esteban took two glasses of Avaloran wine off a tray that'd been put on the small table by his throne then poured one vial in each cup. Shuriki shook her head when he offered one of the crystal goblets to her. "Not going to happen, Esteban."

Esteban shrugged. "Suit yourself." He swallowed the contents of one glass in a single gulp. Shuriki didn't notice anything at first then his hair began to darken. She watched open mouthed as all his wrinkles, age spots and lines disappeared until Esteban looked just like he had the day she had lost her throne to Elena, minus the greying at his temples, of course.

"But, how...?"

Esteban gave no answer. He just placed the empty glass back on the tray as he returned to sitting on the throne.

It had taken some time to relocate the lost Island of Santalos. He had brought back enough of the water to reverse both their ages so they'd be in their early to mid thirties.

Shuriki was desperate to regain her youth and her beauty. He could already see the wheels turning in her head. This was just a waiting game.

Esteban didn't have to wait long. Shuriki took the wine glass when he offered it a second time, swallowed the contents and slammed the empty cup down onto the tray.

Esteban silently watched the fountain water work its magic revitalizing her wavy raven black tresses, and bright emerald eyes. Shuriki regained her soft, smooth porcelain skin as well. Esteban had always found her attractive, but her distinct features also made it very easy to spot her in a crowd. He would need to hire more guards to ensure her safety since many people would want to harm her for what she had done to them during her forty-one year reign.

"Now what?" she asked, examining her flawless reflection in the mirror Armando brought her.

Esteban rolled his eyes at her as he got up from the throne. "Why ask such a question when you know the answer already? "You sign that contract or I put you back into that cesspit Elena called a dungeon. I need heirs and you WILL provide them."

Shuriki scowled. "I most certainly will not! I detest children!"

"If memory serves they were never fond of you either," Esteban retorted.

Shuriki threw the mirror at him. Esteban dodged it and the glass hit the wall shattering into countless pieces. She tried to make a beeline the door, but he caught her and lifted her off the ground. "You will sign!" Shuriki fought him tooth and nail as he half-carried, half-dragged her to where Higgins waited with quill and ink. For a brief moment she feared he would hit her, but he merely plucked the quill up out of the ink pot and shoved it into her hand. "Sign it!"

Esteban held Shuriki there until she finally obliged. "Fine..." She signed her name and threw the quill down. "Happy?"

Esteban watched her fold her arms and narrow her eyes at him. He mirrored her actions, his one word reply laced with sarcasm and disdain. "Ecstatic."

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[fourteen-teacups]

A Night Out - Part 1

This is a modern AU retelling of the Turnadette story, in four parts, centered around a “prop” that I just couldn’t let go. (The “prop” does not appear until part three, however.) Many thanks go to @thatginchygal and @my-little-yellowbird for their encouragement, patience and valuable feedback.

Shelagh Mannion sat in the late summer sunshine in the square outside St Cuthbert’s Hospital. She enjoyed spending her afternoon breaks out here in the fresh air and solitude. Arriving here as a midwife six months ago, she was still struggling to settle in. Although she had quickly found her professional feet on the obstetrics ward, things had not come as easily socially with the other staff on that floor. The senior midwives, Ward Sisters Julienne and Evangelina, had been there almost their entire careers, and although Shelagh was quite experienced in her field she still felt they viewed her as one of the junior nurses. Sister Julienne was kind and an excellent midwife and while she often seemed to behave almost motherly towards her, Shelagh knew there was already much expected of the head nurse and she wouldn’t have time to spare to help the new Scottish girl adjust. The other Sister, Evangelina, was fiercely capable and a force to be reckoned with yet she tempered this with a surprising tenderness for the laboring mothers when the need arose. Shelagh sensed there was much she could learn from this woman professionally, but personally she scared her to death.

The young, student nurses were stylish and witty and exuberant; next to them Shelagh assumed that her shy and somewhat foreign personality was highlighted. She held a higher position than they, essentially in between the veteran and the apprentice staff nurses. The fact that she was responsible for some of their training probably didn’t help her case; they most likely saw her as a advisor rather than a friend. At times she watched daring Trixie, sophisticated Jenny and sweet Cynthia as they as they left the hospital in a flurry, in pursuit of the excitement of a London evening. Left behind in their wake, she realised she didn’t necessarily fit it with that group either.

There were a few doctors on the ward; the main one seemed to practically live there, he covered so many shifts for the other two. Apparently he was a widower and didn’t mind substituting for his coworkers who had to get home to their wives. Early on she had developed a professional respect for him; Dr Turner was an extremely competent obstetrician, had a good rapport with patients and held the midwives in refreshingly high esteem. He even displayed good humour and an astonishing restraint alongside Sister Evangelina; Shelagh couldn’t help but be impressed by that.

Dr Turner also had a little boy, Timothy, who spent a lot of time at the hospital after school and during term holidays. When Timothy wasn’t doing his homework in his father’s office he ran around with his friend Jack. The two boys spent their free time playing in the square, trying to take control of the waiting area’s television or charming snacks from the cafeteria ladies. Shelagh had developed a soft spot for this boy, part mischievous imp and another part wise soul. She knew his unusual combination of traits were a result of losing his mother at so young an age combined with his father’s busy schedule, which left him alone to raise himself at times. She understood him because in some ways she had been him, knowing the early loss of a parent and the necessary development of independence that came with such circumstances. As she folded up the remains of her packed lunch she smiled as she also thought of their differences; she had been a shy, reserved child while Timothy was full of spunk. Looking up she was just in time to see him running up to her now.

“Nurse Mannion!” he shouted. “I’ve caught a caterpillar!” Timothy charged up to her bench with the bug in question cupped in his hands.

“That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed.

His excitement continued, “I’m going to identify it and make sure I feed it the right leaves. If it’s going to become a moth it will make a cocoon, but butterflies come from a criss-a…” he scrunched up his face, trying to remember the word.

“Chrysalis,” she informed him.

“Yes! That’s it! Akela said I could earn my Nature badge if everything goes well for this little chap.” He settled himself next to her on the garden seat.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll earn your badge, Timothy! Now have you decided where you’re going to keep him?”

“Dad has loads of junk around the flat, I’m sure I can find an old jar or something and make holes in the lid with a nail.”

“Oh dear,” she could well picture their cluttered flat, having observed Dr Turner’s office, “for the time being, what if you used a zip-lock bag from my lunchbox? You can poke a few small holes in it for air.” She rummaged through her bag until she found one that wasn’t too soiled.

His eyes widened with delight. “That would be smashing! Thanks!”

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Dr Patrick Turner crossed from the hospital to the square in search of his son. As he passed through the small gate he could see Timothy was sitting with Nurse Mannion on the bench closest to the fountain. They were too involved in what looked like a serious task to notice his approach. Pausing, he took a moment to enjoy the enthusiastic mood his boy was clearly displaying. Timothy was talking animatedly and gesturing wildly while the nurse gave him her undivided attention...and his son was eating it up. Choosing to sidestep the guilt this usually brought up, he instead focused on what a gift it was for Timothy. Many of the hospital staff made an effort to keep an eye on his lad, but Nurse Mannion seemed to have forged a connection with him that was more personal and it was a bond that Tim desperately needed. As his father, he was grateful. He should probably thank her, Patrick reflected, but he wasn’t on particularly familiar terms with her. Yes, they worked together quite frequently, and on those occasions she displayed excellent nursing and midwifery skills, but other than that she was quiet and kept to herself. Nevertheless, he reminded himself as he moved toward their bench, that would be the gentlemanly thing to do.

Timothy saw him first, “Dad!” he hollered, brandishing the baggie, “It’s a caterpillar! I can work on my Nature badge for Cubs!” As Tim jumped up, a breeze caught the rest of the rubbish from Shelagh’s lunch, blowing it towards the fountain. Patrick was quick to follow it and swipe it up before it could get much further. He dropped it in a nearby bin on his way back to their seat.

“Greetings, Doctor, and thank you,” Shelagh said quietly, ducking her head as she addressed him.

“It’s me who should be thanking you, Nurse. You’ve become a good friend to Timothy, here.” He noticed her blush a bit as she shook her head and he remembered too late that she had never been one to receive compliments well. He refocused his attention on Timothy, “Let’s see your newest pet, then!”

“Da-ad, it’s not a pet, it’s a science experiment and a Cubs project! And the first thing I’ve got to do is properly identify it so I know what it eats.” He held up his index finger to emphasize his point.

Patrick tilted his head as he responded, “Right then, let’s head to my office and you can use my computer for your research.”

“Brilliant!” Tim headed off towards the gate at a trot, calling over his shoulder, “Bye, Nurse Mannion!”

“Good-bye, Timothy!” she replied with a wave.

Patrick smiled his thanks to her this time before shifting into professionalism, “I’ll see you back on the ward when your break is over. I’d quite like your help explaining the risks of preeclampsia to Mrs Shepherd; oh, and Mrs Davis needs some assistance with breastfeeding, perhaps one of the younger nurses could...?”

“Of course, Doctor; I’ll be there in two ticks. And Nurse Miller has just the right amount of patience to deal with Mrs Davis.” Shelagh answered, feeling much more comfortable as the conversation turned to hospital matters.

He nodded his approval, as well as his farewell, then joined Timothy at the edge of the square, ruffling his son’s hair before helping him and his caterpillar across the street.

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Trixie entered the hospital tearoom and found the corner table by the window knowing that Cynthia and Jenny would soon be joining her. As she waited she looked out onto the square and as usual could see Nurse Mannion on her favorite bench.

Her two colleagues approached with three teas and a packet of biscuits and as they sat down she sighed her frustration, “I simply don’t know why Shelagh insists on spending her breaks out there alone every day, when I’ve invited her to take tea with us dozens of times!”

“Sometimes a bit of peace is necessary, especially when our work involves so much interaction with others,” Cynthia offered wisely.

“And you’re saying she can’t have peace with us?” Trixie chirped, clearly not understanding such needs. She reached for her tea and swirled the cup, helping it to steep.

“It is disappointing,” added Jenny, “I rather like to get to know the people I’m working with, it makes my shifts pass more quickly,” she joked, “but more importantly I think friendship strengthens working relationships.”

“Well then we’ll just have to keep trying,” Cynthia soothed as she opened the packet of treats, “but we must let her move at her own pace.”

“You’re right, of course,” Trixie conceded, but not without an affectionate eye-roll in Cynthia’s direction, “without you we’d be social barbarians!”

“Oh look,” Jenny interjected, “Dr Turner’s son has just joined her.” She helped herself to a biscuit and offered the tray to her friends.

“They’ve developed quite the friendship,” Trixie noted with a sing-song tone in her voice.

“What are you implying?” Jenny raised her eyebrows in question.

Cynthia sipped her tea before adding quietly, “I think it’s sweet.”

“Well I think she’s sweet on the doctor…” Trixie teased, punctuating her comment with her biscuit, the suggestion in her expression obvious.

“No!” exclaimed Cynthia.

“Oh yes!” Trixie countered, “Haven’t you seen the dreamy look in her eye when he’s in the room? And she blushes whenever he compliments her.”

“She blushes when anyone compliments her,” Jenny reminded as she took another biscuit.

“Fine.” Trixie relented, sweeping some stray crumbs into her napkin. “But did you know she helps him catch up on his paperwork and tidies his desk when he isn’t looking?”

“And has a special interest in his little boy…” Jenny was starting to be won over.

Cynthia remained the voice of reason, “Lots of people here look out for Timothy.”

“Look! Dr Turner just entered the square!” Jenny squealed and three heads snapped back to the window, their repast forgotten for the moment.

“What’s he doing? Oh, picking up some litter.” Cynthia noted.

“Aha!” Trixie crowed.

“What? What is it?” Her friends were at a loss.

“Her eyes were on his derriere the entire time he was retrieving that rubbish!” she triumphed.

“She wouldn’t!” Cynthia was aghast while Jenny nearly choked on her tea.

“Trust me; I have excellent vision and I most certainly know what a girl’s face looks like when she’s admiring her man.” Trixie delivered her news with authority and plenty of cheek.

And with that the three nurses dissolved completely into giggles, drawing questioning glances from the rest of the tearoom.

[angustdtt]

a/n: I'm planning on having this divided in parts, please if you liked show some love~its always appreciated <3 

Namjoon!FairyAU

wordCount: 2k pairing: namjoon x reader (she) genre: fantasy | fluff |  a little angsty later on triggers: none so far

pt I | pt II

masterlist

moodboard

Red and Yellow.

The most beautiful runway of fallen leaves adorned the path ahead. The trees on either side became more opaque as your favorite season approached. The crunching underneath your feet of the dry foliage brought a calm feeling of inner peace

Your feet led the way they made every year through forest religiously. They knew to avoid the bumps on the ground hiding under the leaves that could likely turn into a deadly trap.

The sound of children's laughter a tell-tale of that hidden, almost magical place. There in the forest - even at this time of year - beautiful flowers grew around an old wishing well. This was your favorite spot to visit. Ever since you were younger you collected these flowers and hid them between the pages of books, waiting for them to dry and release a sweet and intoxicating aroma.

You were about five years old the first time you started this habit. Your grandma walked the forest next to her cabin almost every day and knew the most beautiful parts of it. One peculiar day, she walked you to the secret well, claiming it had the ability to grant wishes. Of course, anything related to fantasy was, for a five-year-old, exciting and ignited the curiosity spark.

Once there you met for the first time with the magical place. The structure looked straight out of an old magic tale. The chiseled rock that formed it resembled more a fountain than a well. Adorned with vines which crept the sides of it and all the way up to the beam from where an old wood bucket hanged by a rope.

"Show me your hands, y/n," she said, wearing her best hussy smile and leaning down once you showed her the palms of your empty hands. "Now hear Gran, sweetie." she began. Granny placed a small coin between your hands and close them around it so you were cupping it. "The well here has magical powers. It can grant any wish your heart desires..." ,the tone of her voice narrating you of an old and grand secret that brought all the powers of the forest into action. "See that candle?” she asked and pointed to a small metallic lantern with a lit candle inside of it hanging from one of the columns of the well. “That means a fairy its present. When the light is on you can throw a coin as payment for the fairy to make your wish come true." you nodded, looking down at the hands together. "Now dear, you must not tell the wish out loud, keep it a secret from anyone and then throw the coin to the water. But remember, this wish must come from the bottom of your heart, pure and honest." you nodded again, repeating the rules she had gave you like a prayer.

Grandma took a step away and with a gesture of her hand, she encouraged you while muttering ‘Go on’ with a big smile.

One step, two step, got you closer to the edge. Holding the coin close to your chest you mumbled some inaudible words and threw it in the hole. After hearing the splash against the water you chuckled and turned to her with eyes full of hope. You were too young and don't exactly remember what you wished for but you remember that thrilling sensation of believing in such things.

Back to the present, the flowers you sought were a few meters further away from the good spot. Walking by the children who toss their wishes in the magical well you overheard two of them talking to a few more.

“Cross my heart!” one of them assured to the gathering. “Magic is real!” he shouted exhilarated trying to convince the other kids he was telling the truth. “I wished for a puppy and It came true!” He waved his arms in the air and grabbed his face in shock.

“He did!” the seeming friend of the ‘puppy’ kid affirmed. “And I wished for Tom to have a puppy too!”

“His name is Nanuk and we both play with it all the time!” Tom told and the rest gasped amazed.

You laughed at how the kids were in awe of the story he was telling, and how enthusiastic was being at telling it. Part of you felt jealous at their innocence. At how easy it was to believe in impossible things- like fairies, for example.

You were grown now, and all those credulous believing left buried in the past. You made a life of your own over the years like anyone else, and like anyone else you had the same problems and virtues. One of the most recent ones being of the matters of the heart; unrequited love.

The next day you felt like reading a book outside. Lucky for you, it was a week-day meaning child would be on school and nowhere near the forest. So, you could get some time to relax in nature's company. Grabbing a random book from grandma's shelf you let her know where you were heading, and bid goodbye.

Like the day before, you walked to that part of the woods; The clouds up above made way for the small beams of light of the sun. The cold, soft breeze of air carried the scent of what you can only describe as ‘autumn’ and you breathed out content.

Taking a seat in the stone from the well, and lifting your feet up you leaned against one of the columns to rest your back. Looking down at the water, you saw the coins at the bottom which glowed when the reflection of the light hit them.

You took the book and placed it on your lap, reading first the title on the front “The Secret Garden” By Frances Hodgson Burnett. You heard about the book once before; most likely your grandma talking about it.

The pages seem to be frail, an obvious sign of how old and how much the pages were read- but also how interesting it must be. ‘There was something mysterious in the air that morning..’ you read inwardly while taking a deep breath of comfort, enjoying the moment you and the forest share. While in the reverie, your eyes divert their attention. There is a coin lost between the cracks of the stone. You remember the words from yesterday- ‘Magic is real.’ Shaking your head you try to release your mind from those words, but they resonate like an echo and tempt you.

You closed the book determined and shook-off the awkwardness of what you were about to do. Reaching for the lost coin, you held it between your index and thumb fondling it and pondering. You clicked your tongue pronouncing the words of a wish to yourself while you left the book on top of the rock. Indifferent, you dropped the token to the well and heard the 'blop' it made after touching the water. You looked around you, not sure of what you were expecting. ‘Tsk, like if a wish were to come true immediately.’ you said, turning on your heels to leave.

“Pardon, y/n?” A voice called from behind, making you turn around in surprise. Meeting eyes with a rather, peculiar stranger. You looked around by habit, checking who he was addressing, but the stranger’s gaze was fixating on you.

“Me?” you asked, the volume of your voice coming out rather weak.

He nodded, twisting his lips upwards at the innocence of your question. “Yes, You.”

“I’m- sorry, have we met?” You searched for his face on your memories but didn't recognize ever meeting someone like...him. The man before you was someone you’d most definitely remember. He was sitting in the same spot you were before, his tall and lean figure slouched against the column of the well. He presented a rather calm and curious expression while staring at you with gentle eyes. What caught the attention first though, was his flamboyant purple hair.

“I can’t give you what you want.” The purple-haired young man in front of you said. He got up and stood straight- damn, he was tall. You gulped worriedly because the strange man was walking your way with a silent gaze. Backing up as he approached, you prepared mentally to find a way of escape in the case you needed it-after all you didn't know this guy. Once he was close enough he extended his arm towards you displaying a small object on the palm of his hand.

“Uhh…” You mumbled, confused on why this stranger was showing you a coin. Bringing your eyes up to meet his you analyzed what kind of wacko he must be when he talked first. “Excuse me?”

“It’s against my morals to change one's free will. I’m sorry, but you must ask for a different wish.” He tried to grab your hands while talking to you but you jumped away from his grasp. The guy looked at you confused by your sudden reaction. “y/n?”

“How do you know my name?” you asked, cautious.

He laughed gingerly, scratching the back of his neck embarrassed, looking for the right words to say. “I guess you were too small to remember.”

“Remember what?” you looked at him up and down.

“Me,” he replied.

With the coin still in his hand, he brought it into his pocket and walked back to where he was sitting putting a safe distance between the two. “My name is Namjoon, and I’m the fairy that lives on the well,” he explained.

‘Yeah, he’s crazy.’ you agreed inwardly. In an instant you found yourself running to your grandma’s house, leaving the crazy-haired man behind while he shouted “Wait!” to stop you.

“Oh shit, dear.” grandma shrieked, grabbing her chest worried. You almost fainted once you reached the door of the house and out of breath after all that running, but there was enough strength left to look at Granny wide-eyed at her cussing. “Oh shut up, grandma’s curse too. What on earth happened, y/n?” she queried grabbing your arm and helping you in. Grandma brought a chair to sit you down and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Unable to speak just yet —‘why did I rejected that pilates class discount?’ — you whined about the poor physical condition you were in.

“Here,” she offered the water which you gulped down in the blink of an eye.”Breath in and out slowly, dear.” she encouraged patting your back. “There, there.”

“Gran—!” you began telling her when your breath caught making your chest heave.“There was this guy!” you kept on going. “He- he had this, crazy looking hair and he- he- tried to give me this-coin I don't know why?!”   Grandma’s eyes lit up, her hand brought together, fingers intertwined. 

“Unbelievable,” she mumbled, tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. She took her clenched fists and pressed them against her lips like she normally would do before praying to the glossary. “You’ve met him again.”

This was certainly not the type of reaction you were expecting. “Met who again?!” you exclaimed confused and somewhat irritated.

“The fairy of the well!” she replied, her tone of voice ringing with a type of - joy?

Sneak Peek Pt 2

“Listen, I’d like to stay but I can't just-”

“I understand.” he stopped your babbling with a sign of his hand and a nod. “I won’t force you to believe in the magic. Although,” he stopped. His ginger gaze traveling from your eyes to his feet and back again. His rosy cheeks showing up while he decided on asking a request from you. “I-If  you don’t mind...I’d like to see you again tomorrow.” He confessed biting down his lower lip, waiting for your reaction.

“Tomorrow? I’m- confused,” you replied, not quite catching Namjoon’s invitation. “Why?”

He pointed at the book ou held between your arms lazily. “I’d like to know how the story ends.”

[imaginemycroftholmes]

Mycroft trying to find a suitable pet for Sherlock after John left when he got married?

“You lied to me. You said it was a level five case.”

Mycroft sighs heavily as he holds the door open expectantly for his younger brother.

“We both know that you wouldn’t have left the house for anything less than a case after Dr. Watson’s nuptials so the deceit was necessary,” says as he gestures toward the door with his head for him to enter.

When he doesn’t Mycroft adds, “and if anything this should speak volumes of how you’ve let your mind grow soft whilst the good doctor is miles away in the tropics on his honeymoon for you not to deduce it.”  

At this Sherlock does look pained but finally enters the establishment with a huff turning up his collar as if to block out the sound of animals filling the air with their noise.

As Mycroft enters in behind him he watches Sherlock not so subtly eye his surroundings.

It didn’t take constant CCTV surveillance to know that with John married and out of Baker Street that Sherlock was starved for companionship. Barely leaving the flat for anything even when Greg had offered his best cold cases or when Miss Hooper had even tried to entice him with a human cadaver to experiment with.

Mrs. Hudson had already forgone trying to cheer his brother up after Sherlock said some rather inconsiderate things about her and her relations with the owner of Speedy’s below them and went to visit her sister in Florida for a spell.

Although if he were honest Mycroft was hoping that Miss Hooper would take this opportunity to get closer to Sherlock and perhaps have their own happy announcement before the year’s end but like most important things, love, cannot be rushed.

Not even Sherlock could try and protest that he needed no one as his conversations with Billy the skull became more self-loathing and dark that something had to be done lest he dive back into old habits.

So it was up to him (like always) to find someone that could give Sherlock what he needed and in turn give a pet something that they needed-a home.

Sherlock however seems to be more opposed to the idea as he scans the environment to see cats, dogs, rodents, reptiles and the like lined up on the shelves as if they were consumable products.

Obviously there was a palpable distaste from Sherlock for the way the animals were presented like disposal toys but Mycroft could not wait to blow this first impression out of the water entirely.

It didn’t take long for an associate to find them. Petite, fit and bubbly with her light brown hair in a long ponytail she greeted them, “Hi my name is Tammy welcome to Happy Tails! How can I help you today?”

“You could help me by aiding my escape of this dreadful place as I hardly want to do any business with a place that treats its animals like products at a local Tesco,” Sherlock says disdainfully. The look on his face was comparable to looking at Anderson and his tone far more severe as he looks down at the Happy Tails associate just standing there looking like he just paid her a compliment.

Giggling Tammy gives Sherlock some finger guns before saying, “Nice one Mr. Holmes. You almost got me!”

Sherlock of course looks befuddled by the action and looks expectantly at Mycroft for clarification when Tammy fails to provide one.

“Happy Tails is hardly a pet shop,” Mycroft explains, “It happens to be one the best kennels in all of London complete with a rigorous adoption policy, outdoor park for the animals to roam, free flowing drinking fountains, holds fundraisers for other shelters and takes in and adopts out more pets than any other in all of Great Britain.”

“And we also have this HUGE aviary for our birds,” Tammy adds holding her arms out as wide as she can get them, “that we let them fly about when they want to stretch out their wings!”  

“Then why have the animals in cages at all,” Sherlock ponders allowed.

“Well, they’re only in there because they want to be in there,” Tammy replies. “You see not all animals want to play so we let them use the little display cages to have their own personal space when they need it. They can come and go as they please and can hold up to 4 occupants depending on size. We give them collars that will open the doors when in proximity and have fail safes to make sure that don’t get caught under them. Look, see?”

Looking to his left one of the cage display’s door opened to reveal a cat dragging in a kitten before turning around and bringing in another. Door kept open until the mother cat was finished with bringing in her litter and the door closed leaving the new mother to nurse in peace.

“The collars also provide us information on our animals health and if there are any scuffles between our happy campers,” Tammy explains as one of the mixed tea cup dogs stood up in his display case walked toward the back wall and exited.  

“That seems a bit excessive,” Sherlock says aloud.

“We don’t like to provide nothing but the best for our pets Mr. Holmes,” Tammy protests sternly, “if we treat our animals just like we would like to be treated because they’re not just pets-they’re going to be part of someone’s family.” Her whole tiny frame was overcome by the righteous demeanor that was awe-inspiring if not an indicator that Tammy would continue to educate them on what her company does for the animal community should no one put a stop to it.

“Yes, which is why I booked this appointment for today so we should get on shall we,” Mycroft interjects before Tammy could wax on about how dedicated her store was to the animals and have an animal for Sherlock before the end of the day.

“Ah, yes! Right this way sirs,” Tammy agrees taking them to the back of the store. Opening the door is like that of opening a small closet only to be greeted by a room the size of a basketball court.

All sorts of different animals, cats, dogs, ferrets, bunnies, rabbits, and hamsters running throughout the many tubes that lined the walls were a sight to be seen.

“Now this is the main room for our furry four legged friends,” Tammy explains before pointing to 3 other doors on each side, “the red room is where our reptiles reside, the yellow one leads to the aviary, and the blue one is our aquarium but I believe that on the phone you were more interested in a four legged friend correct?”

“That would be correct,” Mycroft confirms, “Now how do we go about picking out a pet?”

Tammy wags her finger playfully. “Oh no Mr. Holmes, you don’t pick the pet-the pet picks you,” she explains, “all Mr. Holmes needs to do is get on the floor and see which lucky camper wants to become his best friend for life.”

Turning to the wall cubicles below the hamster tubes Tammy starts to rummage before loading her arms with a few toys. “Here,” she instructs giving them to Sherlock, “you’ll need these to help you attract a friend and see if you’re compatible.”

Sherlock gingerly takes the toys as Tammy gestures to the floor. “Now go out there and mingle!”

It is a strange sight to see Sherlock standing out there so helpless with an armful of toys and the jitters of that of a transfer student that Mycroft takes it upon himself to help him once more.

Grabbing the feather fishing pole from the pile in his brother’s arm Mycroft begins to drag it on the floor until it attracts the interest of several cats and a ferret.

“See? Now you try,” Mycroft indicates to Sherlock as now he has an audience of four legged friends wanting his attention.

Sherlock looks skeptical before choosing a tennis ball out of the armful of toys and bounces it once, then twice. In no time at all six different types of mutts and a bunny were on the scene ready to play.

For more than four hours Mycroft spent entertaining his growing collection of cats that seemed to become more bold by the minute while Sherlock went around the room using different toys to see which furry creature would be the one for him.

It was only until Tammy came around asking reminding them that the store closed in the next thirty minutes and that they were welcome to come back again tomorrow if no one picked them today that Sherlock declared that he had his companion.

A littlle pug and boxer looking mix with a leg shorter than the other three followed behind Sherlock with a determined look in its eyes and a air of a seasoned warrior.

“Oh you picked out Eggsy,” Tammy exclaimed delightedly, “He’s one of the dogs we picked up from from an animal fighting sting and one of the most serious but loyal dogs we have here.”

Bending down to scratch behind the small dog’s ear she clarifies, “I mean, its not like the others aren’t but Eggsy takes it to an extreme. His regular feeder was sick for a week and the little guy refused to eat anything that wasn’t from his regular handler! we had to wheel Jafaun in and get him to feed Eggsy before he was liable to become underweight.”

“Well I will take no other so it will be one less animal for Jafuan to feed,” Sherlock declares, “Mycroft pay the woman so Eggsy and I can return home as this place is hardly one for intellectuals such as ourselves.”

Tammy looks over at Mycroft who is still engrossed by his furry fans. “Now will that be cash or check?”

“The money will be transferred immediately,” Mycroft assures her before pointing down to the white cat currently taking up space on his lap. “Now how much for this superb feline?”

“That’s our Delilah,” Tammy says with a grin, “One of our senior cats who just loves to sit with people and sleep the day away. She’s only 250 and has all her vaccinations up to date just like Eggsy.”

“Wonderful-” Mycroft starts to say before he could hear his car alarm going off and the sound of high pitched barking followed by the scream of “MYCROFT OPEN THE CAR OR I’LL BREAK INTO IT!”

“At least I have you for my sanity,” Mycroft tells Delilah the cat before gently picking her up like a small child and carrying her out to the car before Sherlock and his dog decided to do anything more drastic.