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bestiesenpai · 4 years ago

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youtuber Sukuna

I beg you to read the shitposts I made about this, they are delicious. You don’t have to of course but...if you loved me you would :) s/n = screen name, and I hope you chuckle at Sukunas screen name

Content warning: uhmhm lowkey incel shit(mean internet comments and whatnot)

part two --- part 3

Name: Sukuna. Age: 25. Height: 6 foot 5 inches. Occupation: toxic Youtuber, fitness trainer and hot guy.

Sukuna wasn’t exactly known for being kind. He wasn’t nice to others, rarely having anything good to say about anyone, and he’d made a successful Youtube career out of it. First starting as a fitness trainer at his gym, through encouragement from his clients and the notion of a quick cash grab, he started Youtube.

He didn’t care about it and that reflected in the quality of his videos and editing. He didn’t have consistent uploads, just filming and posting videos whenever he wanted, analytics be fucked. But somehow, that worked out for him, and he quickly found himself with over two million subscribers just frothing at the mouth for his next video.

And those subscribers were some of the worst people. Sukuna didn’t care about fostering a safe space online for others, not in the slightest. His comment sections were atrocious, both on his Youtube and his Instagram. It was full of toxic men one-upping each other constantly and dragging on each other for not being able to work out as much as Sukuna did.

Sukuna was a large part of why his fanbase were so toxic. He himself often made bad comments about others, whether fellow creators or people that happened to appear in the backgrounds of his videos, and on more than one occasion he’d been ‘cancelled’. None of that mattered though, all he cared about was shitting on other people and making money.

Sometimes he played video games and posted it, but not too often. Sukuna often stated he wasn’t so much of a fucking lonely loser that he’d play video games all the time, and so the gaming videos he did post were few and far between. He played angry shooter games and GTA, mindless button clicking he could get lost in for a few hours for a video.

Laying in bed one night after uploading his most recent video, one where he rages at 12 year olds on GTA online, Sukuna was just scrolling through his phone mindlessly. After he uploads video game content, like clockwork, he gets recommendations for gaming channels. He only watches a few of them, mostly leaving mean comments saying what losers they are, but one catches his eye.

He’s never been recommended this kind of video before. The thumbnail is light and bright with some pink aesthetic lights in the back. But the most enticing thing is the person in the middle, cute pink cat ear headphones on and a bright smile.

“Let’s see…” Sukuna mumbles to himself, mindlessly clicking the video. He hasn’t even read the title, he only clicked it because they were cute, and here he is nearly blinded by the bright setup they have.

“Hi everyone, it’s (Y/N) here and I’m really excited today! We’re going to be playing this new game I found!” Sukuna is immediately enraptured by the sound of your voice, watching how your face changes as you talk. His eyes drift off to the decor behind you, cute plushies and healthy plants, and some twinkling fairy lights. There’s books as well, and your chair is one of those ergonomic gamer chairs he has as well but in pink.

Sukuna watches the video dumbly, totally in the dark about whatever you’re doing, but loving it all the same. All he knows is that he likes the sound of your voice, and when you laugh and smile at a funny part in the game, it makes a light flush come to his cheeks.

It only takes one video for Sukuna to spiral into more of your content. He watches a video on your gaming setup, and he’s surprised that so much technology can come in pink. He watches a video on how you edit, a few of you cooking in your kitchen, and even a few vlog videos.

He quickly subscribes to your channel, and when you plug your social media, he immediately goes there. Pulling up your Instagram, he stares at your profile picture and almost audibly coos at you for being cute.

Your profile is just as cute as your videos are and Sukuna barely remembers to follow you before he’s going through your whole feed, liking every picture he sees. Sometimes he leaves comments, only one word though, ‘cute’. He’s never liked something so outright cute before, it wasn’t who he was and it definitely didn’t fit with his brand.

Falling asleep after following you on every platform, Sukuna wakes up thinking about you as well. And he also wakes up to hundreds of comments from all his accounts, bombarding him with questions and screenshots from last night.

‘SUKUNA WHY WOULD YOU LIKE THIS SHIT?!’

‘OMG Sukuna liked (Y/N)s posts!!’

‘Sukuna is so gross and toxic, you better stay away from (Y/N)!’

‘SUKUNA YOU GAY NOW’

‘EW why the fuck do you like this bitch?’

There were hundreds of comments that he waded through. Most were from his fans, expressing disgust at how many photos of yours he’d liked and wondering why he, Sukuna, most heterosexual alpha male on the planet, would like a pretty in pink Youtuber who had bubbly intros and whined when their animal crossing villagers wanted to move away.

Other comments were from your fans, some in awe that he would like you considering how much he said he hated overly cute things. Other fans expressed concern, worried what this might mean for their favorite Youtuber. Did Sukuna want to cause problems, potentially hurting you? He did have a reputation of bullying others, so this wasn’t far fetched.

Checking your Instagram, you didn’t make any comment about it. There wasn’t any update or anything, but on his end he was being tagged in endless Twitter threads with screenshots of him liking your posts and commenting under them.

“For fucks sake.” He grunted, clenching his phone in his hands. The amount of notifications he was getting were starting to upset him and he nearly threw his phone to get them to stop.

Ignoring his phone for the rest of the day, Sukuna went to the gym like he always did and trained with his clients. Some of them brought it up to him, asking him if he had a mind break last night and forgot what he was doing. Sending them harsh glares, Sukuna refused to talk about it.

“Oh my fucking god.” Sukuna nearly wailed when he got home, finally checking his phone. His name and yours had begun trending, and the hashtag #protect(Y/N) was also. Muttering angrily under his breath, Sukuna turned on Instagram live.

“Okay what the fuck!” He shouted, seeing the live become instantly flooded with people all screaming about you and him. “You’re all fucking annoying, you know that?” Glaring harshly at the camera, he read some of the comments that went by.

‘WHY’D YOU LIKE (Y/N)S POSTS FROM 2017’

‘Are you two secretly dating??’

‘COLLAB!’

“Who gives a shit why I liked their stuff, you’re a fucking weirdo for keeping track of me. And we aren’t secretly dating, dipshits.” Rolling his eyes, Sukuna scoffed as more comments came in begging for a collaboration. “And think about it you morons, why would we collab? Our shit is too fucking different, what would we even film about?”

Sukuna stayed on Instagram live for nearly an hour answering questions asking about you. Every time he had to answer that you weren’t secretly dating, he got a little more annoyed. Not at the comments themselves but at the fact that it was true; you didn’t even know he existed.

Ending the live in a huff, Sukuna didn’t feel any better than before, and it was made even worse by the fact that everything he said was being relayed to Twitter, and you were tagged in every tweet.

“These idiots!” Staring at his phone, Sukuna couldn’t believe what he was seeing. On your Instagram stories, you’d posted a q&a for your followers, and nearly all of the comments were about Sukuna.

“Hi everyone! No, me and Sukuna aren’t dating!” You said, laughing a little to ease how uncomfortable you were. “To be honest, I’ve never even heard of him before! As you know, my content is very...different from his, so our circles don’t exactly intersect. But I’m always happy to have new followers and potential friends!”

“Fuck me.” Sukuna groaned, cringing at how uncomfortable you looked having to address the sudden onslaught of questions. For once he wished he’d actually given a shit about his online presence, so that maybe one day your circles could intersect. He knew he scared you, he scared a lot of people, and this was just proof.

“Uh, Sukuna if you see this, hi it’s nice to meet you!” You said in the next slide, puffing out your cheeks and waving cutely at the camera. It made Sukuna blush, and he hated it. “Thank you for following me and liking my content! I was very surprised that you found me!”

“Of course I did, idiot, you’re fucking cute.” He muttered under his breath.

“I know a lot of people are asking for us to do a video together and I know our content is really different, so don’t feel pressured to respond or anything, but the offer is open! If you’d like, we can collab on something.”

“On what?” He asked like you were there.

“I cook sometimes, and I know you cook too! Maybe we can make a cooking video? You can teach me how to make healthy food or something!” Sukuna could tell a fake laugh when he heard one, and you definitely had one right now. “Anyways, thank you! Bye Sukuna!” But hearing you say his name cutely like that made him not care.

He nearly responded right away, accepting the collab offer now that you’d spoken about it, but he didn’t want to seem desperate. He watched through the rest of your Instagram stories, going back and replaying the parts where you talked about him over and over and his heart clenched every time when you said his name.

In the dead of night, Sukuna DM’s you after watching your latest video and leaving the simple comment ‘check your DM’s’.

“Fuck, what should I say?” He’s suddenly stumped as he looks at the keyboard. Typing and retyping a message, in the end all he can say is hi. He doesn’t expect a reply, ever, but when he gets a vibration on his phone two seconds later he jumps to read it.

(S/N): hi Sukuna! :)

(cursedgod): hey

Real fucking smart, repeating what he just said.

(S/N): is there something you wanted to talk to me about?

(S/N): I hope you haven’t been annoyed at all the notifications you’ve been getting!

(cursedgod): No it’s okay

(cursedgod): we can collab if you want

Good Sukuna, good. Play it cool, don’t let them know that your fingers are actually trembling because you’re nervous.

(S/N): do you want to?? I don’t want to pressure you! I know we’re pretty different haha

(cursedgod): yeah, let's do it. Cooking?

(S/N): sure!

Looking around his home, he was suddenly assaulted with the fact that he didn’t have any furniture. He barely had a proper bedroom, just a mattress on a bare frame and a dresser. His lounge room was the same with his computer setup in one corner and then nothing else. There was only a couch, a mounted TV and a fold out table and chairs for his dining room.

(cursedgod): I know a studio kitchen we can use, I’ll send you the address

Thank god he’d done promo work for a brand in a studio one day, otherwise he’d be fucked.

(S/N): awesome! I’m free next Saturday!

And just like that, it was a date. Well, a meeting. Sukuna knew it wasn’t a date, but his heart still thumped like it was one. Confirming the time, he ended the conversation with a curt goodbye and obsessed about it throughout the night.

When the day to meet you came, Sukuna nearly ran late trying to pick out his clothes. He’d never cared about looking good or presenting himself well in front of others, whatever version of him he turned up in was what they got. But for you, he wanted to try a little harder.

Waiting outside the studio space, Sukuna rubbed his hands together nervously. You’d messaged a day or two ago offering to put the video on your channel since it probably wouldn’t fit his aesthetic, so he didn’t have to bring his shitty camera equipment.

“S-sukuna?” Snapping his head up, Sukunas mouth fell open looking at your curious face a few feet away, an Uber driving off behind you. You were even cuter in person, just his fucking luck. How was he expected to act like a normal person when his recent obsession was here looking better than he could have imagined.

“Hi.” What comes out is a grunt, not the smooth word he’d hoped. He can see you eyeing him up, taking in all the thick and corded muscles of his body. It made his chest puff out a little, he worked hard for this physique and to have you so openly looking at him made him happy.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Sticking your hand out, you smiled politely at him.

“Same.” Shaking your hand with a firm grip, Sukuna could feel the difference in your palms. Yours was soft and nicely moisturized and he had callouses everywhere and a few cuts and scrapes.

Opening the door for you, Sukuna led you to the studio space he’d rented out. It was a clean and modern kitchen, not unlike his own, but it had appliances and looked actually lived in. Helping you set up a few camera angles, Sukuna felt a pang of nerves hit him in the stomach.

“Sukuna, can we take a picture together?” You asked before starting, and Sukunas brow furrowed deeply. Why would you want to take a picture with him? His expression must have scared you, because you quickly backtracked. “F-for promo for this video, on Instagram and stuff!”

“Sure.” God, did he feel bad or what. He shouldn’t have made that face at you, now you wouldn’t look him in the eye. Crouching down to get the right angle for you, Sukuna watched you pick a cute animal filter.

“Just do what I do.” Throwing up a peace sign, you cutely tilted your head from side to side and smiled. Sukuna tried to do the same but he looked awkward, and most of all he was blushing pretty bad.

You snapped a multitude of pictures, some at different angles and some with different filters, and in all of them Sukuna was blushing at least a little. He managed to smile more as it went on, even laughing at one of the filters.

“Thanks! I’m going to post these really quick and then we can get started!” Giving him a brief smile, you turned back to your phone and set about editing some of the pictures. Looking over your shoulder, Sukuna could see that he looked like a blushing high schooler meeting their idol for the first time and not a grown man.

Once the photos were posted and you tagged him in everything, it was time to start. Setting up your marks on the floor, you took a generous drink of water and cleared your throat.

“Are you ready for the intro? I’ll start it and introduce you, okay?” You’d actually prepared a script for yourself, and showed Sukuna as well.

“Okay.” Stepping in front of the camera, Sukuna bristled at feeling you so close to him. Your arm brushed his casually as you were fixing your shirt, and Sukuna was glad he’d worn his most expensive cologne for this.

“Hi everyone, welcome to today's video! As you know, I’m (Y/N), and today we have a special guest today!” Throwing your arms in the air, you motioned to Sukuna.

“Hi.” He nodded, barely cracking a smile. He could feel you looking at him like you wanted to say something, but he didn’t look.

“So, many people have been asking for us to do a collaboration and it’s finally here!” Clapping your hands lightly, you rocked on your heels and nudged his shoulder with yours. “Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?”

“Uh-” The playful nudge you’d given him was enough to make Sukuna short circuit. “I-I-” He suddenly couldn’t remember how to speak. “Rice?”

“Let’s try that again.” You laughed. “Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?” This time, you didn’t nudge him with your shoulder.

“We’re gonna…” the words were on the tip of his tongue, they wanted to come out and be spoken but he couldn’t do it.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Nodding reassuringly, you took a deep breath in and out, and Sukuna shakily copied. “One more try?” When he looked at you, Sukuna expected to see a hint of annoyance in your face, but there was none. You were just smiling softly at him, waiting for his answer.

“Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll get it next time.” Stepping away from the camera, Sukuna took a drink of water and cleared his throat. Cracking the bones in his neck, he took a deep breath and came back. “Let’s do it.” No more fucking embarrassments.

“Do you want to tell them what we’ll be doing today?” You asked for the third time, slightly swaying your body side to side this time.

“We’re gonna make katsudon today.” Finally, the words he wanted to say came out.

“That’s right! As you can see, Sukuna is really fit!” You immediately hopped in, giving his arm a brief squeeze. “And he knows how to make a ton of healthy meals!”

“Mhmm.”

“So I asked if he could help teach me, and all of you at home, how to make it!” Smiling at the camera, you waited a few seconds before relaxing and turning it off. “Did you like that? We can refilm it if you want.”

“No, it’s okay.” Running a hand through his hair, he pointed to the bag of rice he’d brought. “Let’s get started on this shit.”

Taking fifteen minutes to film the two of you filling up the rice cooker, when it was over, you set about getting aesthetic shots of the other ingredients. Sukuna tried to seem casual off to the side on his phone, but he was really watching you.

Getting started on chopping the ingredients, Sukuna somehow managed to say the things he was supposed to without stuttering too badly. He was amazed that you could make the things he was doing sound so interesting, your narration as you held the camera and tried to do things yourself was impressive to the man that barely knew anything about cameras.

“Sukuna, I need help cutting the meat.” You whined, tapping the meat on the cutting board with a knife. “I don’t remember how you showed me.”

“Here.” Without thinking, Sukuan grabbed your hand with the knife in it and moved it for you. “You just have to move your wrist more, it’s not that hard.” Doing it a few times, when Sukuna felt your chest expand with air against his, that’s when he realized how close the two of you were. “S-sorry.” Immediately jumping back, he stared at the floor.

“Thanks!” Giving him a smile, you kept at it.

“I’ll fry the meat.” Stepping in as soon as you were done, Sukuna already had the hot oil ready. He was eager to cook and do something with his hands instead of - what he felt like - was awkwardly watching you off to the side.

“Okay!” Grabbing the camera, you focused on the pan. “You’re really good at this, Sukuna!”

“T-thanks.” Staring directly at the pan, Sukuna didn’t look away. Even with the hot oil popping up from the pan a few times and burning his fingers, he didn’t flinch at all.

“Ow!” But you did. Your hand had gotten too close, and when Sukuna flipped the meat, some of the oil had gotten on your hand.

“Shit.” Abandoning the pan, Sukuna was ready to drag you over to the sink for some cool water.

“I-it’s okay, it was only a little.” Shaking your stinging hand, you point to the food. “But I think the meat might burn.”

“Shit!”

Narrowly avoiding disaster with the meat, when it came time to cook the eggs, you made a joke about how you liked your eggs in the morning and Sukuna burnt them almost immediately. While not an overtly sexual comment, the implications of the words still affected him.

Somehow, he managed to make the dish come together and while his plated dish didn’t come out the best, yours looked at least halfway decent with overcooked meat and burnt eggs. The only things not messed up were the rice and vegetables, and even then Sukuna was surprised.

“We did it everyone, we made katsudon!” Holding up the bowls, you smiled big and nudged Sukunas shoulder again. “You saw we had a few mishaps along the way, but that’s okay, that’s what made it fun.”

“Yeah, it was fun.” Sukuna chuckled. Despite him being more nervous than he’d ever thought possible, he had fun cooking alongside you.

“Sukuna, will you try mine? I made it super pretty and everything.” Holding your dish up to him, Sukuna wasn’t expecting you to do that. Now he felt bad that his looked so ugly and like a teenaged boy made it; he almost said no.

Eating yours though, somehow it tasted better than he was expecting. It must have been how you prepared it, and the fact that you cared so much about the presentation. Eating it in silence, he let you eat in peace as well for a few minutes and compliment the food to the camera.

“Alright, that’s the end of the video!” Putting your bowl down, you turned to Sukuna. “I had so much fun today, thanks for filming this with me.” Now was his chance to make everything better. Putting his bowl down and bolstering himself with confidence, Sukuna threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you close to him.

“Thank you (Y/N), I really did enjoy today. I hope we can film again soon!” He squeezed your shoulder and smiled really big at not only you but the camera as well. He knew he was blushing, he knew that even the tip of his nose was a nice rosy shade, but he didn’t care. If people teased him for it, then so be it. But he wanted you to know how he truly felt.

“R-really? You want to?” You asked, looking up at Sukuna from your place smooshed against his body.

“Really.”

“Aww, well you heard it here first everyone! Sukuna wants to shoot another video with me!” Clapping your hands a few times, you waved at the camera. “Okay, bye everyone!”

“Bye.” Sukuna waved too, waiting a few seconds before letting you go and turning off the camera.

“Sukuna, did you really mean it? You want to film another video with me?” You were in utter disbelief. All this time, he’d just seemed very standoffish, if not a little awkward around you. You were happy to film this video with him, he had way more followers than you and it would help boost both your channels, and to hear him say that just made it even better.

“Yeah, I was serious.” Sukuna spoke around stuffing his mouth with the food he still had left. He was more hungry than he thought, the nerves doing a good job of twisting his stomach during the video. Now that it’s over, he can finally relax.

“That makes me really happy.” Eating the rest of your food as well, you leant against the counter. “This is gonna sound kind of mean, but I was really scared to film with you today. I thought you were going to be really mean.”

“Shit, you did?” He grimaced, letting out a sigh. “Sorry I had you worried.” He could already imagine the comments you would get from his fans.

“It’s okay! You’re actually way nicer in person, I was surprised!”

“That’s good.”

“And you’re really buff, you have muscles in places I didn’t even know were possible!” You laughed bashfully at that comment, and avoided looking at him when he stared at you in shock. “I couldn’t help but notice…”

Were you checking him out? Had you been checking him out this whole time and he didn’t even realize? He had seen you eyeing him up when you first met, but were you looking at him like that at other times as well? Now he’d really have to watch your video to see if it was true.

“Thanks, it’s my job.” Could he have said that any lamer? “My job outside of all this, I mean. I’m a trainer at this fancy gym downtown.”

“Oh, I’ve seen some of your videos at your gym! I know which one you’re talking about.”

“You do? You’ve seen my videos?” If he wasn’t surprised before, he was now.

“Yeah, you know I had to do a little research beforehand.” You nodded, beginning to clean up the dishes around you. “And I know you’ve already watched almost all of my videos, so it only seemed fair.”

Did you have to bring that up? Now Sukuna was embarrassed again.

“Y-yeah, I did.” Clearing his throat, Sukuna helped gather the dishes. He took up washing them, another task he could do to get his mind off you. As you took down the camera equipment, he nearly broke several dishes and utensils from scrubbing too hard.

“I’ll call you an Uber.” He said when all was said and done and you were back at the front of the building.

“You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

“No, I want to.” Quickly calling you a ride, Sukuna fiddled with his phone a little more. “Uh, could I- could I-” His voice kept leaving him, and he had to cough a few times. “Can I get your number? I really liked your camera shit and I want to improve mine.” Okay, it wasn’t a total lie. He did like your setup and wanted to make his just as good, but he really wanted your number to potentially talk to you more about things outside of Youtube.

“Sure! Go ahead and type it in.” You were quick to give him your phone, a cute pink phone case on the back of it. Typing it in, he can’t help but notice the little devil emoji you add by his name. He wants to ask, but your ride is already pulling up.

“Bye!” Setting all your camera gear inside the car, you turn and wave goodbye.

“See ya.” Just as you’re about to close the car door, Sukuna gets a burst of confidence. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay!” And off you go. Sukuna watches the car drive off until he can’t see it anymore. He takes his time getting to his own place, eagerly awaiting your message with every step. But even when you do message him, all he can do is send a thumbs up back and nothing else.

It’s about two and a half days after that that you text him again, letting him know you’re done editing and that you’re going to post the video soon. It wasn’t a very long video to begin with, so the editing was simple enough. Sukuna replied with what appeared to be a lackluster ‘can’t wait’, but on the inside he was shaking. He’d already screenshot all the pictures the two of you took together and added them to a folder.

“Here we go.” As soon as the video went live, Sukuna watched it. He was mortified as soon as it started at the blush so evident on his cheeks, and how it stayed throughout the whole thing. He groaned at the part where he helped you cut up the meat, he almost wishes you’d cut it out. Every little detail that made him embarrassed was there, every little nuance of his actions you’d managed to capture and make it cute.

(Y/N): How do you like it??

You texted him after twenty minutes, eager to hear his thoughts.

(Sukuna): it’s good, good editing and stuff

(Y/N): yay! I’m going to read comments in a few hours, you should too! I bet people will be really shocked!

(Sukuna): yeah no doubt

Oh, he was definitely going to read the comments. Whereas you were going to wait for a fair few to come in before commenting, Sukuna frequently refreshed the page and read the new ones as they came in. You were right, a lot of people were surprised, but he also saw a lot of his fans as well.

‘Ew Sukuna really cooked for that bitch? They can’t do it themselves?’

‘Yeah, why do they have to rely on him? Useless as fuck lol’

‘Sukuna only did this to get laid, (Y/N) looks like an easy fuck’

All of those comments, and many more, made his blood boil. Usually, he wouldn’t care at all about the comments, letting them fester in his comment section and spiral out of control. But for you, it was different.

‘Fuck off and die you pieces of shit. Leave (Y/N) alone or say it to my fucking face’

Sukuna sent that message, along with a variety of other threats, to all the people that insulted you. He didn’t care that this wasn’t his channel and that you would deal with it in whatever way you wanted to. He needed to defend you against the unwanted audience he’d brought you.

Luckily, after seeing Sukunas messages, all of his fans backed off. They knew how serious he was about his threats and there were many rumors that he actually did go and beat people up who said things he didn’t like. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of his torment.

With Sukunas name attached to the video and his heavy presence in the comment section, the video easily went viral. It was easily the most viewed video on your channel, getting on the trending pages of several different platforms.

(Sukuna): hey

It’s nearly a week after the first video that Sukuna messages you, and the hype is still going strong, and your follower count grows greatly from it.

(Y/N): hi! What’s up?

(Sukuna): do you want to film a video for my channel now? We can play a game, I have a few

(Y/N): sure that sounds fun!

Oh how wrong you were. The game Sukuna chose was a scary game, a shooter game with scary zombies and a lot of possible jumpscares. He doesn’t tell you either, so on the night of filming - he insisted on it being nighttime to get the full scary effect - you were caught off guard.

“I don’t know about this.” You whined once you saw the title. The two of you were video calling alongside playing the game together, and Sukuna’s eyes flicked to your figure on the screen.

“It’ll be okay, I’ll carry you, don’t worry.” He had started filming as soon as he’d set up the game, and you were filming yourself as well for him.

“You promise it won’t be too scary?”

“If it’s too scary just close your eyes and I’ll protect you.” Smiling softly at you, he started up the game. The beginning was fine, just a quick introduction to the game, but as soon as things started to get moving, you were scared.

“Sukuna a zombie is eating me!” You screamed, frantically pushing buttons in an attempt to get it off.

“It’s okay!” He quickly got rid of it, and made sure to stay close to your character as the story progressed.

“(Y/N) stay by me, there’s about to be a whole lot of them.”

“Close your eyes there’s about to be a jump scare here.”

“Don’t worry about getting that item, I’ll grab it for you!”

Sukuna nearly forgot he was being filmed, saying sweet things to you to help encourage you and make sure you weren’t overwhelmed. There were many parts where you screamed in fright and Sukuna was there to coo at you and tell you it was okay. He made sure that your character never died, making sure to keep you close until the end of the game.

“Sukuna, that was so hard!” Squishing your cheeks in your hands, you looked at him through your phone.

“It was fun though, wasn’t it? I had fun with you.” Completely abandoning the game, he stared down at his phone with a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, when there weren’t so many zombies.” You stuck your tongue out at him, and it made him laugh. Leaning his head into his hand, Sukuna grinned when you yawned.

“Aw, are you tired? Better go to sleep soon.” His voice dropped to a lower volume, like you were right next to him.

“I will.” You yawned again and it made Sukuna yawn as well.

“Get off the phone and go to bed, you’re making me tired too.”

“Fine.” Whining out the word, you waved sleepily. “Goodnight Sukuna, I’ll send you the video files in the morning, okay?”

“Night.” Waving back, Sukuna waited until you hung up to turn his stuff off as well.

In the morning, Sukuna was ready to edit. What usually took him a week to edit out of laziness, he took only a day to edit this video with you together. Rewatching the footage, he nearly gagged at seeing how soft his face got when he looked at you, and most of those parts were left in because he couldn’t stand to watch them and fix them.

(Sukuna): videos up

The next day, he messaged you. Once again Sukuna patrolled the comments, swiftly deleting any that said even a hint of a bad thing about you. There was less this time, what with Sukuna adding a warning at the beginning of the video threatening anyone that talked down at you.

This video, like the first, went viral. But for a much different reason. Since Sukuna was emotionally unable to deal with how sappy he was and edit those parts out, everyone got to see how soft he was for you. If the comments weren’t mean, they were screaming about how you and Sukuna must be dating now, because why else would he look at you and talk to you like that?

And much to Sukuna’s dismay, there were also fancam edits of you two together. Any clippable moment of him being sweet on you in the videos you’d made together along with the photos you’d posted on Instagram were edited together and posted on Twitter. You both were tagged in every single one, making sure Sukuna saw all the videos of you and him together. He saved all of them too, delighting in the way you looked with him with all those pretty filters.

By the end of the day, people were trying to put a ship name together for the two of you and he’s seen you repost a few fancams with cute messages of thanks as well. Seeing you receptive to the fans screaming about the two of you made him happy, even if he was still too nervous to text you about anything outside of Youtube.

As more comments came in, people on Twitter were begging him to do a vlog with you. You had quite a few on your channel, going to cafes or filming what your day or week was like. Sukuna had watched them all and was jealous of every single person that appeared alongside you.

(Y/N): hey I’m doing a live on Instagram if you want to join me! I know people really like us together lol it’ll be great for views

(Sukuna): sure

Did you want him to join now? He’d just gotten out of the shower and thrown on a pair of sweats, he wasn’t exactly decent. But he didn’t want to waste time getting ready only for you to end the live.

“Hi Sukuna!” You smiled and waved when he appeared on the screen.

“Hey.” He waved back, not caring about the angle he was holding the camera in. He saw hearts begin to fill up the screen and comments started to fly by, almost all in caps about the fact he was shirtless talking to you.

“Guys, don’t be weird! Who cares that Sukuna is shirtless?” You tried to stop them, but it was clear you were flustered as well. You weren’t looking at him, peeking at him through the screen a few times.

“God you’re all thirsty as fuck.” Sukuna finally looked at himself on the screen. He was shirtless and in bed, hair slightly damp and tousled on his pillow. Reading a few comments, he shot up. “Of course I’m wearing pants, you nasty fuck!” Storming out of bed, he stood in front of the only mirror in his house that wasn’t in the bathroom and turned the camera around. “See, look!”

“Oh.” Gasping softly, you were glad Sukuna didn’t notice you screenshot the live. Clad in only gray sweatpants, Sukuna’s freshly cleaned skin gleamed in the light of his bedroom and every single muscle and edge of his body was on display.

“There, told you I wasn’t fucking naked.” Rolling his eyes, he flopped back down on the bed. None of the comments had gotten any better, all of them talking about how hot he was and how you were so lucky to know him in real life.

“L-let's talk about something else.” You stammered, not showing your face on camera for a few minutes. Sukuna laughed at the comments teasing you for being embarrassed, agreeing with some of them under his breath.

“So, what the fuck are you all doing here?” Sukuna posed the question at the chat, but at you as well.

“Well before you came everyone was talking about you...and you know how everyone has been begging for us to vlog?” You started off slowly, peeking an eye at his face.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to call you to ask how you felt about that?” How he felt? Why did you want to know?

“You couldn’t have texted me that?” That wasn’t necessarily what he wanted to say, but it made you chuckle, so it was okay.

“No! I wanted to ask so everyone could know!”

“I don’t mind it.” If you wanted to vlog with him, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“So…” Worrying your lip, you looked off camera for a few seconds before looking directly at Sukuna. “Would you like to be in a vlog with me, at a cafe? It’s outside the city, kind of far, but we can rent a car or-”

“Yes.” Sukuna interrupted, nodding his head quickly. “I’ll come. We don’t have to rent a car, I’ll drive.”

“Really?” The comments were just as shocked as you were. Sukuna never filmed anywhere but his home and the gym, this would be a monumental occasion.

“Did you want me to say no?”

“No!” You screamed immediately, nearly dropping your phone. “I just- I wasn’t expecting you to say yes!”

“Well I did.” Sukuna bit his lip, running a hand through his hair and flexing his arm. “So I guess it’s a date, huh?” His normal asshole confidence was back now that you were appearing through a screen and not right next to him. A surprised sound came from the back of your throat, and you nearly dropped the phone again.

“Y-yeah! A date!” It felt good to have you flustered for once and not Sukuna. Laughing heartily at you, Sukuna smirked at the comments.

“Was that all you wanted to ask me or was there something more?”

“No, that was it!”

“Alright.” Licking his lip and letting his tongue hang out of his mouth a little, Sukuna watched you bite your lip as well. “Well I’m gonna go, I got stuff to do, but I’ll text you later (Y/N).” Dropping his voice as he said goodbye, Sukuna left the livestream.

“Holy fuck.” As soon as his phone was off, Sukuna let out a breath he’d been holding in. His heart was pounding hard despite how confident he was in his actions. Flirting was nothing new to him, but with you it felt different and like he’d never done it before in his life.

He watched the rest of your livestream while he finished getting ready for bed, laughing at the comments still teasing you about getting flustered with him. The notifications for Twitter were going off as well, and he knew for sure that there were new fancams for him to check out later.

(Y/N): Sukuna!! You’re so embarrassing!

Texting him after your stream, your cheeks were still burning at the memory.

(Sukuna): hey, you said it would be good for views and it was

(Y/N): I know…

(Y/N): did you really mean it, about coming with me?

(Sukuna): of course. If I didn’t want to I would have said no

(Y/N): that’s good lol!

There was a lull in conversation, and Sukuna nearly fell asleep waiting for you to either text him again or for him to figure out what to say next.

(Y/N): so, a date huh? Are you going to bring me flowers?

Now he was awake. He didn’t expect you to bring that up again, and his eyes flew open. Sukuna’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, mind going blank on what to say.

(Y/N): lol just kidding! I know you only said that for the stream! I’ll text you later about the details, I’m about to knock out

(Y/N): goodnight :)

Well shit. Now he definitely wanted it to be a date.

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

1K notes · View notes

headoverhiddles · 4 years ago

Text

The Romance Of A Yellow Rose - Dr. King Schultz x Reader [Smut]

Words: 5.6k

Synopsis: You and King get married, and celebrate your first night together by consummating the marriage.

Commissioned by a friend! Enjoy.

Your eyes open on the rugged planes of the Southern state the three of you had found yourselves in. As you roll over to stretch the sleep out of your body, you find a single yellow rose, native to this area. A smile grows on your face. It’s King’s way of saying good morning to you, as it had been for many months.

For years now, you had been tagging along with Schultz and Django. Having attached yourself to their travels three hot summers ago, the two men had become quite fond of your travelling company; King in particular. Over time, your relationship had evolved from a companionship, through friendship, to having romantic feelings for one another. You were the first to admit to them; King hadn’t wanted to say anything, as he still held a fruitless hope that one day he could return you to the pleasantries of the normal life you once knew, before it had been uprooted. But as the months passed, you getting more and more comfortable and (dare he say) suited to the lifestyle of a bounty hunter, it was becoming apparent that you were going nowhere. Not without him, anyway.

Hildy had decided to stay with some friends in the North while the three of you travelled the country on business. Texas Jack, Turkey Creek and Jack’s wife Camarilla were more than happy to keep her with them. It had put Django at ease at least, knowing they had one less person they had to worry about with them catching a bullet. Hildy was even teaching Camarilla different things she had learned over the years at their home, and the four were getting on fine from what Django took from her letters to him. King wished you had enough sense to stay with them, but where the older bounty hunter went, you went. You had made that quite clear.

Today, a warm day in mid October, you, King and Django were headed to visit a plantation in Conroe, Texas. There an outlaw by the name of Amos “Sly Eye” Little had been posing as an overseer for 3 months, flying under the radar on the small eastern Texan plantation. He wasn’t a particularly dangerous outlaw, only wanted for his habit of skipping out on poker games before paying up. Three months ago, he ended up double crossing the wrong man which led to legal involvement, and now to deter trouble in peaceful towns he was wanted dead or alive by the state. King and Django had discovered upon visiting this plantation that the family who owned it had been dodging the law for a while as well.

After the slaves had been freed by King and Django, this outlaw family just so happened to get in the way of a few bullets. The last man left alive on the property is now Amos.

“Back here!” you call. King dashes toward you, swiping you out of the way as a bullet whizzes by your ear. You sit in shock for a moment, King’s arm still around you. For a man who isn’t very dangerous, this Amos sure is trigger happy.

“Django!” King shouts, but his partner is already far ahead in pursuit. “Never listens,” the doctor mutters, loading his shotgun and aiming. You watch as Django dodges a couple more of the outlaw’s bullets before grabbing Amos by his collar, lifting him up a few feet. The man tries to scramble for his gun, but Django of course is faster. Just as he’s about to fire at close range, King clucks his tongue, looking through his target. “Bullseye.” Your eyes shut briefly as the snap of the bullet leaving the gun jolts you closer to the older man. He pulls you out of sight once more as the bullet hits Amos through the side of his head, out the other side in a bloody deluge. Django jerks his head up your direction, dropping the corpse into the carnage at his feet.

“I was handling it!” he mutters.

King comes out from behind the tree, helping you up with one hand. You brush off your pants as you both approach the other man. “You were being hasty again,” King says.

“I was handling it,” Django insists with a look. You two nudge arms amiably, and King gives you a disapproving look.

“You are encouraging him.” He turns to Django. “And you’re encouraging her.”

“What’s wrong with a little congratulations?” you giggle. “You got your dead cowboy.”

“I would trade a thousand dead cowboys to keep both of you alive. You’re the best things that have ever happened to me, do you know that?” King gives you a meaningful look, before brushing off Django’s jacket and squeezing your hand. “Forget this place. We’d better get the horses and get out of here.”

Taking the initiative, you go off in search of Tony, Fritz and Ida, your mare. Django approaches King, taking off his bloodstained gloves. “You talked to her yet?”

“She doesn’t know, no.” King looks down, nervously stroking one side of his moustache. “I was waiting for the right time.”

“You wait any longer, she’s gonna be burying her husband to be.” King doesn’t bother taking offense—he knows Django is right. He’s much older than you—not one foot in the grave as Django likes to tease, but older. That had been another source of insecurity for him during the burgeoning relationship, but you had made it clear that you didn’t mind; in fact, you liked the difference in age. King’s fellow bounty hunter interrupts his thoughts. “Y’all should get married here. Nice place, no one left in it now.” Schultz looks around the grounds. It is pretty, and it would be nice to marry you in such agreeable weather... but King shakes his head.

“No Django. This place was built on treachery and suffering. It would be not only tasteless, but bad luck to get married here.”

When you three make it to the next town in the state over of Arkansas, something is waiting for King at the inn.

“You Doctor Schultz?” the innkeeper asks, spitting tobacco into a spittoon. King nods, taking out his billfold. The innkeeper sizes him up. “Yep, man who sent this said fella looking like you’d be coming through here. This’s for you.” He takes a letter out from behind the desk in one of the cubbies, and slides it across. King expects it would be from Texas Jack, but it instead it’s from a different friend in the North; a sheriff acquaintance he had written to before about his situation with you. Thanking the man, you all head upstairs, and when King gets to a desk, he slips on his reading glasses.

Thought you’d make your way through this here town, Schultz-

Sounds like a hell of a woman, the one you’ve told me about. You softie. Knew you wanted to settle down, and it’s about damn time, too. What the hell are you doing with her down in the South then? She oughtta be up here. Maybe I’m biased, but there’s a lot more law n order up here. Better people too. I am biased, spose.

You asked me what I thought about asking for her hand. Why wait to marry her? Hell, bring her up, we’ll have a ceremony here! I’m not only a sheriff, but an ordained minister too. Bet you didn’t know that. Wouldn’t kill you to ask. Anyway, no reason why I can’t make things look good, clean up the place nice and host your happy union. Got some more birthday cake here too, for someone to eat. Pretty good.

Come on up when you finally convince yourself she won’t say no.

- G. A.

“You got a letter back from Sheriff Snowy Snow?” Django smirks. King stares at the letter in his hands for a long while, before looking up at him with a smile.

He could do it. He could finally ask for your hand.

“Django, my boy. We’re going to Nebraska.” You overhear, and turn back with the bags.

“Up North? What for?”

“To see an old friend of mine, fraulein,” King says, taking the bags from you to carry inside. “Sheriff Gus Arnett.” You smile. It’ll be nice to get out of all this heat and around some likeminded people—people who King can relax and be himself around.

You had all stopped off to pick up Hildy in Boston after travelling by train through the Southern states and switching back to horsepower as you made your way up through the wintery landscape of barren northern land. It was worth it, of course; King and Django had insisted Hildy come too, and you had been happy for female company.

“Has my troublemaker been behaving himself?” is the first thing Hildy asks you, kissing your cheek in greeting.

“About as much as mine has,” you laugh.

“Coming from the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. It is you who has been the naughty one,” King chastises you right back.

“Maybe one day, you can teach me a lesson for it.” King blushes as Hildy lets out a loud laugh at the connotations of such a taunt. He knows you’re still virginal, waiting for marriage as you’ve told him before. Once united by matrimony, that’s another wall that could be knocked down between you, if you decided you still wished to give yourself to him.

It was no secret you wanted King, and he had made it plain he would wait for you—he’s a gentleman in every sense of the word. Still, men have needs, and some late nights it had been hard. Many evenings by the fire had ended with you in his lap, grinding down as you kissed him with feverish intensity. It had always ended the same way however, with you heading off to sleep alone and leaving him with nothing but his mind to picture what the next hour may have felt like. This time, King feared he wouldn’t last once he finally got to feel you as he’d wanted to for so long. Either way, he had a silver tongue, and experience in the art of pleasuring a woman. He wouldn’t leave you wanting; whatever you needed he would give you.

Arriving at the snowy lodge some days later, Sheriff Gus Arnett comes out the front door. A couple of minks and rabbits are hanging from the roof over the porch, and two pairs of boots caked with snow are drying outside by a wooden rocking chair that had been collecting frost no doubt since September.

“King Schultz and Django Freeman, in the flesh! Come on in with your little ladies!” he says, opening his arms. You approach first, and he shakes your hand with the assurance of a man who’s not used to gentle handshakes. “I don’t believe we’ve met, ma’am,” he says softly, “But any friend of King’s is a friend of mine. Especially a friend like you.” He winks at you and smirks over at King, who ushers you in out of the cold quickly. Gus tips his hat at Django and Hildy, closing the door after they come in.

“Like I said,” he sighs, “We got some cake. Y’all want some?”

“Perhaps we wait until after dinner?” Schultz proposes.

“I wouldn’t mind some,” Django speaks up, giving King a look. King just chuckles.

“Go ahead, my boy. I was a dentist, remember. Old habits remain, I suppose. Would you like some, (y/n)?”

“I’ll have the piece you didn’t want,” you tease. You lean closer to him to brush your lips against his ear. “When it comes to you, I want everything.” The former dentist swallows. This proposal couldn’t come at a better time, as things between you two are heating up.

That night after dinner of rabbit stew and some leftover cake for dessert for everyone but your beloved, everyone had retired to bed a few hours after the sun had gone down. In your own room, you set your satchel on the bed of clothing you had been travelling with in the South, and just as you’re about to unpack, a knock at the door distracts you from your task. King slowly pushes the door open—he’s dressed in his white shirt and grey vest, his hair freshly combed back. It seems counterproductive to groom that well before bed, but to be fair, you had never personally witnessed King’s nocturnal habits in a place that allows such a luxury. He offers his arm, and when you take it in curiosity, he leads you out the back porch of the lodge home. The wind isn’t too cold tonight, but he still wraps his arm around you. The mountains are beautiful out here, and the snow has stopped for the night to allow for a crystal clear view of the surrounding landscape, snow white on the bottom and starry black on top.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been able to sit together like this,” King says. “Just sit and enjoy one another’s company alone. It’s very rare we get time just the two of us without our faithful hero.” You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Mm. We’re usually around a campfire, with Django snoring behind us.”

“At least we don’t have any of that to score our evening. I think Django’s gone to bed with Hildy in there.”

“You should be in bed too,” you fret. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I never have been very good at that. I’m a light sleeper, fraulein. Especially when I have lots on the mind.”

“You know what helps me when I can’t sleep?” You smile. “Something I learned from you.” King turns to look at you, a soft chilly breeze blowing the silver blonde hair from his eyes.

“What’s that?”

“A story.”

King ducks his head, and pulls you closer to him. “I think that would do the trick. Go on then, my love. Will you regale me?”

“I know a story of a deep running love, where a woman slowly developed feelings for one who she learned to depend on.”

“A common story, no?” King teases.

“Shhh. She loved very freely, but this was different. She not only loved this man, but worried about him when he wasn’t around, yearned for him, desired him in ways that drove her crazy sometimes.” King’s breath audibly quickens.

“And what did our heroine do about this tumultuous situation?”

“Oh, she took care of things. But not like she knew he could.” His breath hitches. You bite your lip as you go on. “The two had been together so long... learning one another’s quirks, laughing at little things and sharing moments others wouldn’t understand. They knew what scared them, what made them smile. At the end of the day, she told the man a million times how she adored him. But she was afraid he still didn’t know how much.”

King rubs down your finger, eyes trained on it before looking up at you. “I think I do.” You forget whatever you were going to say next as King rubs his rough fingers over your knuckles, bringing them up to his lips to kiss them. His beard grazes your skin pleasantly as he opens his mouth. “Will you be my wife?” Your heart skips a beat.

“Truly?”

“True as my love for you.”

“Tomorrow?”

“If you wish.” You lean in to kiss him.

The door bangs open, Gus tosses a pail of water out all over you two. He realizes where you two were sitting, and his eyes widen.

"Gott verdammt."

“Oh, hell. I’m— what are the two of you doing out—?” He can’t even finish his sentence—you’re laughing too hard. King tries to keep up a grumpy facade at the fact that you had both just been drenched in ice water in this weather, but he can’t help it. Your laughter is infectious.

“Please tell me there is enough boiled water for a bath,” he sighs, and you shiver. “For the fraulein, at least.”

Django and Hildy had been up to witness the commotion from the noise of it all, no doubt committing the sight to memory for future teasing. They returned comfortably to bed with one another, which was a comfort you and King couldn’t currently afford in your state.

You get to work drawing the bath as Gus passes you each pails of hot water. King comes in, shedding his dripping fur coat and tugging at his tie. Your eyes drift down to his chest, then back up to his face. King subsequently tries to distract himself so as not to focus too hard on you. You had stripped down to your slip, which was stuck to every curve of your body from the water. The temperature hadn’t done much to help any other evidence of the cold, around your breasts. He tries not to look too long.

“Would you take me out of this?” you ask. It’s a harmless question, but King’s thoughts run wild. He could simply refuse you, but what reason would he give then? That he couldn’t control himself around you, so close to your wedding night?

“Of course,” he sighs softly, and approaches. He takes the back of the slip and undoes the buttons, helping you pull it over your head. He inches it up, the wet material dragging along your skin. He turns to go as you’re revealed, and to his dismay, you don’t stop him. Only one more night, and he could have all of you.

As you step out of the lodge, it’s as if you’ve stepped out into a painting. A light dusting of snow is falling over you, snowflakes catching in your eyelashes and melting tracks down your cheeks like tears of happiness. King is standing there at the end of the pathway shovelled out, just by the small lake. It’s frozen over, reflecting the light of the moon through every little icicle hanging from the branches of trees hanging over top of it. Mountains soar around the group of you, boasting the most beautiful landscape you’d ever seen.

King takes your hand as you approach. Beside him, you see Django dressed in a handsome green winter’s jacket, black leather gloves pristine. On your side, Broomhilda is wearing a beautiful green dress under layers of a form fitting brown jacket. You’re in a beautiful snow white dress with furs covering your shoulders and a fur hat. King is also wearing his grey fur coat. The two of you join hands, and recite vows.

“I know I’m a considerable number of years older than you,” King tells you softly, “But I promise to make up for this. I promise to protect you with my life, cherish you, and support you in every endeavor you wish to pursue.”

“I will stay by your side no matter what,” you tell him, “I’ll be brave when you can’t be. I’ll be strong when you need me to be. I’ll love you as long as my heart beats, and oppose anyone who tries to take you away.” Kindness in his eyes, King smiles down at you, crow’s feet crinkling. He lifts your hand up to kiss.

“Do you take this man?” the sheriff asks.

“I do.”

“Do you take this little lady?” King sighs out through his nose, thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.

“I certainly do,” he breathes.

“Well hell, you may kiss the bride then!”

When King leans forward, you surprise him by taking a step forward and wrapping your arms around him, deepening the kiss. It lasts for an eternity between you, and when you part, King brushes the snow off your rosy cheeks and presses his lips to your forehead.

“Ich liebe dich,” he whispers into your hair, and you slide your arms around his middle in embrace.

Inside the bedroom upstairs, a fire crackles in the hearth. The curtains are open to the snowy view outside, and the frost on the glass only makes you savour the warmth inside. King pours you some bourbon, and comes to sit down beside you in front of the fire. As you cuddle into him, he puts a hand on your back and draws you in for a kiss, his beard pleasantly tickling your face. Bourbon forgotten, the kiss deepens, and you feel his tongue slip into your mouth as you part your lips for more. You pull away, smiling.

“Can I ask you something?”

He looks at you. “Of course. What are you thinking about?”

“How does it feel?”

King looks at you. “You will have to be a little more specific.”

“How does it feel to finally consummate a marriage?”

He stares into the flickering fire. “We don’t have to do it if you’re nervous.”

“I didn’t say that,” you say, crawling over to straddle him. King welcomes you into his lap. “I just wanted to know. You’ll show me?”

“I would love to.”

“You know I’m inexperienced.”

“I do,” King nods.

“Isn’t that undesirable?” King seems offended that you would even suggest such a thing, at the very least ruffled by the idea of it.

“My dear, of course not. Being inexperienced merely means I can show you how to do things.” He hums against your neck, grazing his lips down.

“I’m not completely clueless,” you breathe as you tilt your head back to give him better access. You stand in one smooth movement in front of the fire, leaving King sitting and gazing up at you. “I know what fucking is.” You hear his exhaled breath.

“Yes. I would assume you wouldn’t be entirely in the dark about that.”

“But I’ve never felt it,” you whisper. “I wanna feel it, King.” He doesn’t get a chance to respond. You undo your dress, lace by lace, letting your fingers twine slowly between the hooks. You sigh his name as the corset comes free, recalling how you’d longed for him to do this last night, and you hook the straps of your dress under your thumbs, sliding it down to reveal the slip beneath. You hear his breath hitch, but he doesn’t make a move.

You run your hands down over your ass, letting out a soft noise. You hear him readjust where he’s sitting, and you work now on the cream coloured pants beneath the white gown, sliding them down ever so carefully.

“(y/n),” King whispers.

You let out a moan. “I’ve been wanting to get out of this the entire ceremony just to see how you would look at me, seeing me like this for the first time.” You swing your hips a little, arching your back, and finally wiggle some more as you drop your pants to the floor. King’s breathing is heavier now, and you stretch your arms above your head, sighing again as you let your hair free. “Like I said. I may not have done this before, but I know a lot more than you think I do.”

“I’m not certain I believe that, my feisty little one,” King huffs, averting eye contact. Oh, no. Not tonight he doesn’t. You’re only in your chemise now, and you turn to reveal smooth skin he’s never seen before, bunching the fabric up just enough to give him a peek of the v of your hips.

You can see the visible outline of his hardened cock in his pants, straining against the tight confines and desperate for some kind of relief. You put one leg over his lap to straddle him.

“Touch me?” you whisper, and reach down. He doesn’t stop you, just watches closely as you bring your hands to his pants, untie them, and reach in to take his cock in your hand. He does as you say, returning the touch with his hands up your back, taking the straps of your chemise down. He takes a shallow breath as your fingers come in contact with his warm cock. You grin wickedly, swiping your thumb up to spread his precum around a little. He meets your eyes as you pull him fully out of his pants.

“Oh,” he huffs gently, head falling back a little as you stroke him once.

“Is that good?” you ask softly, pressing a kiss to his ear. “Am I doing it right?” King stutters a little, gasping for air when you swipe over his swollen cockhead again.

“You are doing just fine,” King whispers, lips parting.

“Mmm,” you mumble, pressing a trail of wet kisses down his face and lazily taking his lips between your teeth, leading into a dizzying kiss full of tongue and one another’s slow breath.

“Stop. Wait my love,” King mumbles, stalling your wrist with his hand. You pout.

“What’s wrong?”

He opens his eyes to look at you, pupils blown with lust. “After a show like that, I am at your complete and ready service, not the other way around. Tell me exactly what you want me to do,” he whispers gently, and you get off of him, lying back on the floor like a princess awaiting a treat.

“Could you pleasure me with your mouth?”

Your cheeks heat, but King nods with a smile, dispelling any nerves you might have for such an intimate display of sensuality. He lays you on the floor, pressing kisses down your neck, over your collarbone and across the top of the soft skin of your breasts. His hands come up to gently hold your hips down as they circle upward—he moves your legs so he can brace himself between them, pressing more kisses down over your stomach to the impressions on your hips he’s left with his fingers.

“I want you to have me,” you whisper. King strokes one hand along your thigh.

“It takes time to discover each and every spot that will make you weak for me, lieb,” he mumbles, mouthing at your panties with a practiced finesse. “Be a good girl now for me. Be patient. There is more to come.” The bounty hunter takes the panties down with deft fingers, sliding the fabric down your legs until you’re bare to him. Your cheeks heat, but he reassures you with a starstruck gaze, looking over your body like a lovesick man. He dips his head back down with a soft kiss to your thigh, reaching up to hold your hips as if he’s predicted your body’s reaction already. He presses a reverent kiss to your clit, and his tongue takes a sweep of your folds, making you quiver as his beard scratches the soft skin of your thighs. His prediction proves correct when your hips jerk up as he gives his first lick between your lips. You reach back to grab the carpet, before deciding instead to grip onto his blonde and silver locks where his mouth works between your legs. It’s a surreal pleasure—unlike anything you’ve felt before, and you want more.

“Does that feel good?” King asks. All you can do is nod, but he encourages you to tell him exactly how you feel. “Use your words, fraulein.”

“Yes. Don’t stop,” you sigh.

“My good girl.” King dips back down, swirling his tongue around your bud until you’re shaking. Taking care to hold you close to him, he moves himself up until he’s grinding himself against you. “I want nothing more than to be inside of you,” he whispers.

“Take me as you wish then,” you groan.

“Tonight is about you,” he murmurs against your skin.

“I want it.”

Unbuckling himself, he takes his time slowly working a finger inside of you. He adds another and gently curves them up, before gauging your reaction. Going by the desperation in your face, he slowly replaces his fingers with his cock, pausing every inch to check and see if you’re still alright. You can tell how he’s exercising his restraint—you’re so tight, and all he wants to do is take you until both of you are sweaty and screaming, but he must make this last. You can feel him sliding into you, and his hand comes up to hold yours. Your eyes screw shut as he finally bottoms out, and he presses a kiss to your chest. “Tell me when it is okay to move.” You nod.

“Please.” He starts up a slow pace, covering your body with his as he takes his time with you. Too desperate to take the time King might have in mind to teach you patience, you push your lips harder against him, and roll over on top of him. You kiss the bounty hunter, again and again until your lips are swollen and King is painfully hard inside of you.

“Lift up your shirt for me,” he whispers, his voice gentle. “That’s it.”

“Have me,” you mumble.

“What was that?” King asks, “You must use your words if you would like something, hm?”

You blink up at your older lover. “Please take me King,” you raise your voice, and he smiles.

“Hm.” He gives you an affectionate smile. “I have no choice but to oblige my lady love when she asks as nicely as that. Very well. As you wish.”

He pumps in harder, ripping a groan from you. You’d dreamed of what this would feel like, and it turned out better than you had imagined, King’s soft sighs and the rocking of his body against yours heightening every touch he grazes your sensitive skin with.

A moment later, he pulls out and flips you over gently. He then positions himself between your legs and brings his mouth back down between your legs, suckling around your clit again. “King,” you whisper, breath hitching.

“Louder,” he encourages, and goes back to masterfully taking you apart with his tongue. He soon encourages you to sit on his face, and you do, feeling him lick you perfectly as the pleasant feeling of his beard returns to tantalize your skin. He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue as you reach down to touch his cock. It’s a foreign feeling in your hand, but you soon get the hang of the motions, twisting your fist and using his precum to slick your strokes.

“King... don’t stop,” you groan, his tongue delving just barely inside of you. He moves off of your pussy as you moan, and licks his lips.

“I must admit, I wanted nothing more than to do this all day,” he groans as he moves back up your body, “But I am a gentleman.”

“Too much of one sometimes.”

As if in challenge, he picks up his pace and starts to grunt your name, leaning down every now and then between thrusts to press a kiss to your breastbone as his face scrunches up. You love how uncharacteristically possessive King is getting– it turns you on beyond belief. Your moans grow loud as the bounty hunter’s cock fills you over and over again, satisfying your need for him as your noises blend together into the creak, groan, gasp of making love for the first time.

“K… King…” you groan, breasts bouncing with every thrust. His breath is hot on your neck, and he presses an open mouthed kiss there.

“You are astonishing,” he whispers, “You’re perfect… oh, bitte, bitte Fraulein, you feel so nice… you are my everything.”

“King, just like that, oh god–” you groan, and he makes a noise at your slutty display, reaching up to massage your breasts. You feel your orgasm approach as he continues to touch you, and his hand quickly comes down to rub your clit.

“Ah,” you moan, and clutch his shoulders. King sighs, feeling your pussy squeeze him, and with a stuttered thrust he cums as well, spilling inside you. Soon, you’re crying out his name, and he squeezes your hand tighter as you both finish at the same time, the love you share burning at the height of its passion as your bodies become one. You both rock together to ride out your orgasms until you’re satisfied. Panting breaths mingle as you snuggle close to him.

“Is that what all the fuss was about?” you tease. King frowns at you, and you laugh into his chest.

“Into bed before I take full offense to your jokes, beloved,” he murmurs. You nod, smiling as he helps you up with one hand and carries you bridal style over to the bed covered in furs for a warm night’s sleep together—finally together.

"I am lucky I have such a pretty creature warming my bed tonight," he jokes, "A plucked chicken like me should be very grateful." You huff another laugh, rolling over beside him to finally tuck in with your love.

"I've only ever wanted you. That'll never change, no matter what." You grin. "Tonight only helped solidify that fact."

"So you are with me for my talents in the bedroom, ah!"

"NO--"

"I understand it now."

"King!"

"Shh. Let's sleep now. We will argue like an old married couple in the morning."

The next day, Hildy and Django are already in the living room of the lodge. Gus is in the kitchen making up some breakfast.

“You look radiant this morning,” Broomhilda says, smile wide.

“Yeah. You do look pretty good. Different,” Django nods, narrowing his eyes as if to try and decipher what could have changed about you. Hildy just rolls her eyes, turning back to you from her own husband.

“So. Where’s your significant other?” You grab yourself a cup for the coffee that’s brewing, settling in across from them at the table.

“He’s still sleeping. He worked hard last night.” Tucked in the pocket of your nightgown is a single perfect, yellow rose he had saved you from the South, one King had left his new wife to find upon waking.

#dr king schultz #dr king schultz x reader #king schultz #king schultz x reader #django unchained #quentin tarantino #christoph waltz #christoph waltz x reader #django #django fanfiction #tarantino fanfiction #dr schultz #reader x dr king schultz

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clairecrive · 4 years ago

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“Small thing” - Alfie Solomons x reader

A/n: So, I failed to post this on saturday but here it is! Thanks again for requesting @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby! I changed a few things however I hope you’ll like this!

Summary: Alfie can’t help but step in when he sees that the man you were talking to was about to hit you. Then, one thing leads to another and eventually it’s your shared love for animals that’s what brings you together.

Word count: 2.2K (roughly)

TW: violence on animal, abusive behavior but fluff overall

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @of-love-and-of-the-sea, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner, @ashesbelle (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

(this beautiful piece of art was made by @fortunetellingnonesense. she has other amazing art so go check her out!)

“Hey, stop! What the hell are you doing?!" Your voice resounded in the streets, its echo jumping through the buildings amplified. You weren't one to shout, nor did you get into fights easily. But if there was one thing you hated, it was bullying. Especially when those pieces of shit always picked on people half their size or age. It wasn't fair and showed how insignificant they were. However true that might be, the cuts and bruises that their kicks and fists would leave on them weren't insignificant. Especially compared to a smaller body such as the one of this little kitty that piece of shit on the other side of the road had decided to kick.

Unfortunately, it had taken the small kitten cries for you to notice what was happening. But now that you had, you couldn't turn a blind eye to it. Not even if you weren't a strong muscular person and there was no one in the streets could give you a hand. Given the hour, the street was deserted.

"This little shit has decided to pee all over my doorstep. That’ll show him." Not happy with the kick that had probably broken the kitten's ribs, the bloke spat on its trembling body and was about to keep going.

"Don't you see that it's a little kitten? They don't even know what a doorstep is." You pointed out incredulously but wasn't it obvious?

"You almost killed him", you added to show that it was totally unnecessary and simply a dick move.

"I don't fucking care. He peed on my doorstep and I taught him a lesson." His voice became even harsher as he bragged what he thought was a grand gesture. But really, he only proved your point further.

"You're a piece of shit." Simply put.

"Oi, lady, I don't know who the hell you think you are but ain't no one gonna talk to me like that." You could see that he trying to make himself look bigger and threatening but you didn’t expect anything less from him and were set on not let him win.

"If only you cared about yourself just half as much as you cared for others than I wouldn't have to point out the obvious." Dismissing him, you turned towards the poor kitten that was pathetically laying on the floor. Their breath was uneven and you could tell they were having trouble doing so.

Your words must have confused the man, who apparently wasn't accustomed to a more complex way of speaking. You hadn't apologized but he wasn't sure that you had offended him either. By your tone though, he figured out that it must have been the second. And of course, his ego was bruised.

"Right, you sl*t, it seems that you need to be taught a lesson too." Too busy cooing over the small thing, his words didn't even register. It was probably going to be too late once they did but luckily for you, a guardian angel interceded for you.

"It ain't very manly to hit a woman, mate, right." A loud husky voice spoke behind you and you looked up, cradling the kitten to your chest, ready to make a run for it if it came to it. A tall figure of a man leaning on his cane with a big hat that cast a shadow over his face was the newcomer. You had never seen this man before but one look at him was all it took to understand that you did not mess with him. If you didn't want to end up bloodied and broken, that is.

The bully was about to shoot a retort but the burly man spoke again before he could, "Just like hitting small animals. What fucking beast would do that, hm." And then he spoke no more, only stared at the guy. You found amusing how big and mighty the guy was trying to be just a moment early when it had been only you, and how scared and spineless he was being now, under the stranger's unwavering stare.

It only took a minute, maybe even less, for him to lower his head and retreat.

"That's right, no more lesson teaching for you, bastard." You snickered, mocking him. When the man in question turned to send a death stare your way, you shivered and moved behind the stranger's back, just to be sure.

"Keep on going, mate." The stranger said fully ridding you of that menace finally.

"Asshole", you muttered under your breath as the man disappeared into his house. You must have been louder than you thought because that prompted the stranger to look at you.

"What are you doing, lass, getting head to head with a guy bigger than you, eh. Got a death wish?" As you were standing close to him now, you were able to see his face clearly since he was looking down at you for the height difference. What a lovely face. A guardian angel had sent him for sure because there was no way that such a handsome and kind man would stumble into your life by coincidence.

"Look, he almost killed this kitten and was definitely going to if I hadn't stopped him." You didn’t move to put some space between you. His eyes were too mesmerizing to look anywhere but at them and the way his lips trembled before forming a small smirk, was too endearing to miss.

The stranger’s name turned out to be Alfie, but that wasn't the only thing you ended up knowing about him. He was a fellow animal lover and the human of a sweet bullmastiff. He had a trusted vet and offered to take you to him. On the way, you got to know each other. Albeit, he did all the talking, only stopping to let you answer the many questions he asked you, it wasn't annoying as it may sound. His rumbling was… comforting, in a way. It gave your mind no room to think back about what happened or worry about what could have happened if Alfie hadn't shown up. It only allowed you to lightly caress the kitten's fur and hum now and then to what he was saying.

———————————————————————————

And after months of knowing him, you could vouch that it was.

He was an interesting fellow, this Alfie. Such a scaring looking guy, all burly and dishevelled. His cane angrily stomped the ground, his boisterous voice and confident stride successful kept away any wandering eye and unwanted attention despite how difficult it was to not notice them walking down the street. Of course, since you had just met him, you couldn't know that this happened mainly because of his reputation. And you would have never guessed either because despite his rough exterior, there was an underlying tenderness in the way Alfie looked at the small thing in your arms and how quickly and unprompted he had offered to help. It was the recipe for a sweetheart, wasn't it?

"Right, I reckon we should get him some help, don't we?" Alfie couldn’t help but find you amusing and was more than willing to spend a little more of his time with you. His day had been uneventful up until now. Besides, the small thing in your arms did need help.

After the kitten was entrusted to the vet's care and eventually saved, Alfie, moved by your love for animals, had asked you to take care of his boy, Cyril. Of course, you happily took the job. Yes, the money was good and certainly helped but you mainly agreed because of him. As naive as it sounds, Alfie had made a really good impression on you that day and always had been the portrait of the perfect gentleman around you.

He would welcome you in and offer a cup of tea when you’d get to his home in the morning and another one when he'd come home in the afternoon before you'd leave. And whenever he needed to stay at the bakery until late at night, he'd phone and tell you either offering to have someone walk you home or when you'd refused to leave Cyril alone - that was your job after all- he had given you one of the spare rooms for you to crash in and get some sleep, always with the promise of a raise for the inconvenience.

You were titubant at first, yes Alfie had always been nice to you but was it enough to trust him? Eventually, you caved and stayed the night. The door of your room locked and a route for a quick escape already in mind. You'd soon find out that you wouldn't need it though. Alfie had come home a little past midnight and despite the late hour, he didn't go to bed straight away. Instead, you heard some noises coming from the living room.

Curiosity got the best of you and you ventured downstairs. You had cooked a small dinner and left some for him in the oven. Alfie however, hadn't even noticed. The concept of a cooked meal was new and far away from him, his nightly routine mainly consisted of whiskey and the papers he'd brought from the office.

Coming home to someone was also something out of the ordinary for Alfie, so when your silhouette appeared in the doorway he thought he was hallucinating. The whiskey made him a little slow but his mind still worked quickly enough that you didn't notice his moment of disorientation.

That night turned out to be an interesting one for both of you. Looking back to it, it was also a kind of turning point in your relationship. Whiskey proved to be something that made Alfie even more prone to speaking and since the night is young, you two talked a lot, and you inevitably ended up feeling closer to him.

After that night, Alfie made sure to come home a bit earlier so that you could talk a bit before you had to head home. And you ended up spending more nights at Alfie's too.

Today was one of those days when Alfie said he would come home in time for tea. So, as usual, you had got everything ready, the cookies you had just taken out of the oven were nicely arranged on a plate beside the two steaming cups of tea.

———————————————————————————

"We are restless today, aren't we? But we just came back from our afternoon walk, so what can I do for you, eh?" You were sure you sounded utterly ridiculous, using a baby voice with him but you loved doing so whenever you talked to him. And you’d swear that he could understand you.

"A-ha, these are not for you sweet boy," you tutted at Cyril when he tried to help himself to the food.

It felt like a crescendo, your relationship getting out of the acquaintances’ stage and entering something blurry that you still couldn't figure out. All you knew was that it was warm and it felt a lot like home.

"Alright, alright, I'll give you some cuddles." Yeah, maybe you were a little soft on him but how could anyone be anything but when he looked so cute laying on his back with his little paws in the air?

Exactly.

The sound of the door closing caught your attention and you got up from the ground and walked in the hallway to meet Alfie who was taking his hat off.

"Welcome back, Alfie. How was your day?" Walking to him, you helped him take his coat off. After hanging it on the coat rack, you turn back around to listen to his answer. You expected him to have moved away instead you found your faces extremely close after you had turned around.

A gasp left your lips when your noses brushed whereas Alfie appeared unaffected. His eyes flickered between yours, his moustache tickled your upper lip as he spoke, "it's about to get a lot better, it seems pet. What do ya think?" He whispered on your mouth, referring to your previous question.

The kiss was slow at first, your lips were cautious of each other, tentative and shy. Then Alfie’s hand reached the back of your head and it was like a flip had been switched. Only a brief pause to get some air, your forehead touching, before your lips reconnected. This time with far more hunger, like you had been waiting for this moment. And in fact, you had been.

"Look who's decided to join, cheeky bastard", Alfie commented, amused at his dog who was now panting on his leg. Cyril barked as if he had understood his human and you couldn't help but laugh. This dog was something else.

Your hands trailed on his shoulders up to his neck while the kiss grew more desperate and Alfie pushed you to the wall behind the coat hanger. His hands began wandering trailing down on your body and his mouth was about to follow when something humid and wet interrupted them.

Your eyes bore into his then flickered to his mouth, so close to yours, before you answered him. "I wholeheartedly agree." And that was all he needed to hear before his mouth was on yours. A shot of electricity ran through you when he did.

"I'm sorry mate, but this is a dance for two," Alfie gave him a loving pat on his head, "now where were we?" he turned back to you before connecting your mouths again.

#alfie solomons #tom hardy #tom hardy imagines #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagine #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons imagines #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons one shot #alfie x reader #alfie solomons fluff #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine

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local-ground-apple · 4 years ago

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May i request for some headcanons on how riddle,azul,vil and malleus would react to a fem!s/o who’s an insanely good badminton player. Would they support her during her games? Would they attempt to play with? How would they react when she dominates the court against both NRC and RSA has students?💛

I love this request~~~!! 💛 💛 It was fun to write. Pardon me for starting with Malleus

🐲 at first he didn’t understand the hype behind sports, especially badminton. But when you shyly invited Malleus to come cheer for you and give you mental support on your match, he was…overjoyed,

,,Could you, perhaps, if you have time, of course....come to my badminton match?��

Malleus: *happy invited noises*

🐲 needless to say, he and his Diasomnia squad who tagged along had the front row all to himself. People politely moved away from his intimidating aura. The mere fact that Malleus Draconia came to sport competition shocked absolutely everyone, including Crowley,

🐲 he was awkward at first, not really knowing how he should behave. Malleus is royalty after all and he has a certain image to maintain. But for you, just seeing his gentle smile and feeling his eyes fixated on your form is more than enough to give you mental support,

,,Ufufufu~~ Sebek, mayhap you could show Malleus how cheering looks like?” “Yes, Lilia-sama”

🐲 you had undoubtedly the loudest cheering out of all contestants and to think that it was just one person. Sebek’s screaming woke up Silver who almost had a heart attack, Malleus took mental notes to always bring Sebek with himself on your next matches, while Lilia was wheezing

,,Y/N-SAMA DESTROY THEM. ARAHHHHH YOU GOT IT”

🐲 Lilia is the definition of “You’re doing amazing sweetie” taking multiple pictures of you,

🐲 after a match, practically deaf Malleus came to see and gently took you in his arms, tightly hugging you, as his hands gently caressed your back. He’s softly whispering how good you were,

,,Malleus I’m sweaty” “You were absolutely amazing, darling” “Malleus-“ “Your skills are truly admirable, you were able to defeat every team. I’m overflowing with proudness” “You’re not listening, right?”

🐲 Malleus wasn’t surprised you had dominated the court and crashed RSA and NRC students. After all, you’re an endearing human who has great badminton skills,

🐲 Malleus may have hard time trying to express his support for you, but he truly does his best. After each game, he makes sure to tell you how much he loves you, how amazing you were, all that while showering you with gentle kisses,

🐲 after long pestering and Lilia’s interference, Malleus finally agreed to play with you. You soon regretted this,

🐲 Malleus claimed that he had never tried this game before (which was true) and he asked you to show him some basic moves and practice them with him until he got a grasp of them. He swore he wouldn’t be using any magic for his own benefit (he’s a man of his word)

🐲 you forgot that he’s an ancient fae, whose senses are more sensitive than yours. Malleus is faster and has better reflexes than humans, so after five minutes you were having a hard time keeping up with him,

,,You’re a fast learner” “Oh, Lilia used to say this to me all the time” “YAH, Malleus play like human”

🐲 Lilia was quick to remind him to tone down his abilities,

🥀 Riddle is very supportive, he’s your fan number #1. He may not show it in front of everyone, but he’s always cheering for you and crossing his fingers that you will win,

🥀 your personal hype squad that Riddle always drags with him to your matches is the definition of chaotic support. Cater takes pictures of you while screaming at the top of his lungs “Y/N-CHAN DESTROY THEM” . Ace and Deuce are chanting your name while holding big ass banners of you. Trey is definition of “you’re doing great sweetie” and he has a water bottle as well as healthy snacks prepared for you after the match. Riddle is aggressively clapping and soon he joins the first years,

🥀 you have a celebration tea parties a lot. A LOT. After each match Riddle has always prepared something for you,

🥀 Riddle showers you in compliments after each won game. If you somehow lose one, he’s there with strawberry tarts and fine tea to cheer you up,

🥀 he is beaming with proudness when you win against every team and snatch the first price. He won’t shut up about this for weeks. Literally,

🥀 Riddle lets you train in Heartslabyul gardens. If you need a professional couch or another player, he will gladly arrange that for you. He sometimes watches you practice, admiring your passion and dedication,

🥀 at first, Riddle was rather reluctant to play badminton with you. You assured him with a playful smile that you would be lenient with him. Surprisingly, Riddle really enjoys your small match and shyly asks you for another round. You happily agree,

🥀 you both are often seen together playing badminton in Heartslabyul gardens and Cater always coos at how cute you both are,

🥀 pretty sure, Cater runs a fanpage of yours. You always get embarrassed when he floods you with your pictures and shows you how popular your fansite is,

,,Cater, I suggest you to refrain from making Y/N flustered, otherwise it’s off with your head”

🐙 Azul did his research when you briefly mentioned you’re playing badminton. He watched few videos, read rules of the game and generally familiarised himself with that discipline,

🐙 he’s really supportive, even though he’s not into sports. Azul won’t miss any of your games. Any.

🐙 expect him to sit in the front row with Leech twins. He may not be shouting and cheering loudly for you as Floyd does, but just a mere glance at this beaming with happiness octopus who clap for you is more than enough,

🐙 when you dominate the court and destroy both NRC and RSA students, he’s extremely proud and doesn’t even hide it. Azul is quick to sweep you off the ground and twirl you around, while pressing kisses all over you and breathing praises in between.

,,Azul, I’m sweaty” “I don’t mind” “Azuuul~~~”

🐙 Azul doesn’t excel at sports so he was more than reluctant to actually play with you. He’s clumsy and since you’re such insanely good player, he can’t help but feel insecure in your presence. Yet, you assure him that you will go easy on him and just teach him some basic moves

,,Come on, I will teach you~!” “I’m rather a busy businessman, angelfish” “I prepared a contract” “A contract, you say?”

🐙 let’s just say, you promised that for each point Azul gains, you would give him a kiss,

🐙 Leech twins will be having the time of their life catching discreet glances from bushes at the two of you trying to play. When they see clumsy Azul desperately trying to score at least one point, while you casually block each of his attacks, they can’t help but burst in laughter

🐙 Azul may say it loud, but he does enjoy those little playing sessions. It’s a nice alternative from his usual routine and may I say, he finds you absolutely stunning when you play,

👑 he’s your hype man#1

👑 you will be the best dressed badminton player ever. Vil likes to make you try multiple tennis skirts, shorts, tops and t-shirts to find the best one. You’re the only female around, so obviously you have to look the best,

👑 you wear designer clothes and Vil is certainly doting on you right before the match, wanting to make sure you would look absolutely stunning in every moment of the game,

,,Vil, don’t apply make-up on me, it will get smeared and I will be sweaty” “Trust me darling, when I apply it, it won’t smear at all”

👑 he was right. You came to the match in impeccable outfit, with flawless, delicate make-up and perfectly styled hairstyle. No one would look better than you,

👑 Rook for sure is taking pictures of you from trees, while Epel is the photograph on the land. Vil has a whole album from your different matches,

👑 Vil absolutely savors the moment when you dominate the court against RSA and NRC students, especially if Neige is playing too. He’d be like: “everyone, this is MY girlfriend!!”, Let’s just say he will be boasting about your success everywhere, casually bringing this topic,

👑 Vil is rather organised and after a won match he has everything prepared. Healthy snack to rebuild your energy? checked. Small make-up bag to brush up any eventual imperfections? checked. Some towels so you could sweep off sweat? checked. Water bottle? checked.

👑 Vil won’t hug you though, not until you take a shower. But he will immediately praises and compliment you, while he’s fixing your hair

,,You did amazing, darling. I enjoyed the look of absolute defeat on Neige’s face when you crushed them”

👑 Vil knows that you’re the best, but he’s sure you could be even better. There’s always room for improvement, right? He’s in charge of your diet, making sure you’re eating healthy food. Vil even planned your trainings, gets a coach for you and ensures you attend them,

👑 he acts like your stylist, coach, dietician and boyfriend - all in one,

👑 Vil agreed to play with you, saying it’s a nice break from his usual exercises. After he got a hang of it, it turned out he’s actually pretty good and you’re often seen playing some matches together. Rook always appears out of nowhere and coos that you’re both the most beautiful badminton couple ever,

,,Mon lapin!!! Quelle beauté!!!” “Rook, stop being so close to her!”

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elizabeethan · 4 years ago

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Spaces Between Us- 1/12

The hardships of real life separated them six years ago, and Emma has been struggling to put that fact behind her ever since. But then, only after she’s convinced herself that she’s moved on and that her new life is enough, Killian Jones comes back.

A Captain Swan Modern AU

A/N: first, the chapter count is a big fat probably, definitely not definite! I’m really really excited to share this story! i’ve got four chapter pre-written so far, so i’m planning on posting on a consistent weekly basis.

More tags will apply to later chapters and i’ll put warnings where they're necessary, but if you have any concerns or questions feel free to message me!

Thank you, as usual, to my beta and friend @the-darkdragonfly, and to @donteattheappleshook and @xhookswenchx for listening to my ramblings and helping me figure out the plot to this <3

(also bonus points if you can guess what the title is based on :) it’s a hint)

This story will be rated M

This chapter: ~3200 words

Read on Ao3

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~~~~

She wakes before the sun as she does most mornings, with a start and a jump as she springs her head from her pillow and clutches her hand to her pounding chest. Glancing to her right, she sees her still sleeping husband and breathes a sigh of relief, letting her shoulders sag and her eyes flutter shut slightly. He’s fast asleep, just like he is each time she has one of her horrifying nightmares, never noticing her fearful thrashing. Rolling her eyes, she removes the blankets and lets her bare feet hit the hardwood floor and stands to make her way to the bathroom. After her shower, Emma dresses silently, applies minimal makeup, and sneaks out of their bedroom, still successful in not disturbing her husband.

Her son is already on the couch downstairs waiting for her, of course. If there’s one thing the two of them are equally bad at, it’s sleeping. She smiles when she sees him curled up with his picture book, his orange tabby, Abby, purring away beside him. “Morning, bub,” she greets once she’s downstairs, and he grins up at her happily.

“Hi, mommy.”

Crossing the room to the couch, she leans down and presses a kiss to his cheek and asks, “do you want some breakfast? We’ve got to get you ready for the library soon.”

“Is dad coming?”

She shakes her head. “No, bub. Dad has to work today, so it’s just you and mommy. I’m sorry.”

“Okay!” he says happily, jumping from the couch and disturbing Abby. “Me and mommy day!”

She giggles softly and grins, following as he bounds for the kitchen and trying to ignore the ache in her chest that accompanies his complete lack of concern over his father being absent for something he enjoys, again.

“What do you want for breakfast, bub? Eggs?”

“Eggies!” he calls, crawling up onto his dining chair. “Scrambied.”

“Scrambled,” she corrects gently. “With cheese?”

“Yes! Cheese please!”

“Very good manners, Henry,” she praises happily as she takes out a bowl, a whisk, and a pan before heading towards the fridge. “Aren’t you going to help me crack the eggs?”

His eyes widen and he drops his jaw dramatically, jumping off the chair with enthusiasm and running towards her. “I can crack the eggies?!”

She smiles down at him, taken by his excitement and his refusal to say real words, and says, “yes, my love.”

Choking on her words, she wants to kick herself. Six year and she still finds herself using his stupid phrasing. It sends a jolt of discomfort and a twinge of longing pain through her entire being, the ability to remember small details at the most inopportune times having always haunted her. It tells her how she feels. It tells her she’ll never forget. It tells her how she’ll never feel again.

Her husband grumbles as he enters the kitchen, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl and grabbing Emma’s ass in full view of her son, which makes her stiffen and glare ahead out the window, grinding her teeth. “Morning,” he says.

“Do you have to do that, Walsh?” she asks quietly through clenched teeth.

She doesn’t need to be facing him to know that he rolls his eyes.

Taking a deep, grounding breath in, she bends towards Henry and scoops him up easily, placing him on the counter and handing him an egg. “Remember how I showed you?”

“What are you doing, teaching him to cook?” Walsh asks in an incredulous tone.

“I don’t know, giving him life skills? Just tap gently against the counter, bub,” she instructs, and he does just that. Well, almost that.

He smashes the egg against the counter and she quickly helps him to drag it over the bowl, splitting it open messily and letting the yoke fall in. “I did it!”

“No shells; excellent job!”

“Dad, look!”

Walsh makes no effort to turn from his damn phone, instead nodding once and grunting in false acknowledgment.

He cracks another egg, this time getting a bit of shell in the bowl but able to fish it out with help, and Emma begins beating them with just a bit too much force. “What exactly are we doing today?” she asks.

“Swearing in ceremony. The new sheriff starts.”

She nods. The new sheriff was appointed by the state, so no one but Walsh knows who they are or what their deal is. Why they’re in Storybrooke to begin with. What kind of town they think they’re going to be protecting and serving. It shouldn’t be as exciting as it is, greeting a new citizen, but Storybrooke is a sleepy little town with very little excitement.

She has no idea how she got here.

“That’s why you can’t come to the library, dad?” Henry asks sadly, and his father nods without making eye contact.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “I have important work to do.”

Emma rolls her eyes, then smiles softly at Henry and says, “it’s alright. It’s just Henry and mommy day, remember?”

His face lights up again and he nods, grabbing for the cheese and stealing a slice for himself. She glares at him playfully and he giggles, squirming to the edge of the counter before she assists him down and he runs for the living room. “Food in the kitchen!” Emma calls after him. Walsh looks up from his phone for a moment, then straight back down.

Henry returns quickly, holding a small piece of cheese down towards the floor and taunting poor Abby with it as she chases after him. “She wants some!”

“Henry, we don’t give Abby human food, remember? Why don’t you eat your cheese and give her some of her food?”

He nods, gobbling his snack and then tossing a small piece onto the floor for the cat when he thinks she’s stopped paying attention. God dammit.

“Hey, dress nice today,” Walsh commands from behind his emails. “After the library, come to the town hall. There’ll be photo ops for the paper.”

“Okay,” she mumbles.

“Make sure he doesn’t make a mess of himself.”

She can’t respond with words without shouting, so she stays quiet. God forbid a child have a little fun and get a little dirty. “Henry, come get your breakfast. Did you feed Abby?”

“Okay!”

“Did you?”

“Coming!”

She signs and rolls her eyes, plating his eggies and tossing the pan into the sink too loudly before feeding the cat and heading upstairs, hoping her child’s father can watch him for the five minutes it will take for her to pick out a newspaper-worthy outfit for the two of them.

~~~~

“There it is!” Henry calls as he runs into the children’s section of the library, dodging other kids and parents and beelining towards his favorite. “Mommy! Come on!”

She apologizes to the people he bumped into and finds him with his book already open to his favorite page. “Henry,” she says seriously. “Bub, you’ve got to slow down. You ran into some people and you have to be careful.”

“Sorry,” he says, not looking up from the dog in the illustration.

She sighs and sits beside him, nudging him over and taking a spot on the oversized bean bag chair. “What is Mudge getting up to today?” she asks him, using the skills Belle taught her to get him to engage with the words and the pictures.

He’s quiet for a while, pointing out details to her and trying his hand at a few words. He’s starting to get good at reading since starting kindergarten, and she couldn’t be prouder when he sounds out family without much help, beaming at him and stroking her fingers through his chestnut hair.

“Mommy?” he asks after taking in an illustration of Henry and Mudge going up a hill. She hums in response to urge him to go on and he asks, “why doesn’t dad like to read with me?”

She can feel her heart plunging to her stomach, dropping like an anvil and sending a cold sweat across her body. Walsh has always been distant. When they first met, he seemed so sweet, and when he proposed as soon as they found out she was pregnant, she thought she had hit the jackpot. But as soon as their son was born, she saw a change in him. He became a different person, never around, never helping much, never showing either of them any affection. She blamed it on his new role as the Mayor of Storybrooke; he couldn’t have had a scandalous extramarital pregnancy on his docket and being a family man helped his chances for election. But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to know that the man she’s stuck spending the rest of her life with isn’t shy about how little he regards her.

She can deal with a lack of love from her husband. What she can’t deal with is his lack of love for his son.

Through her anger, she responds calmly, telling Henry, “dad’s just so busy, bub. He has an important job and it’s hard for him to focus on other things sometimes, because he’s so tired.”

Henry nods softly and turns the page. “So he doesn’t like me?”

The tears that spring to her eyes are instant and unstoppable, and she’s grateful that they're sitting side by side so that he can’t see her reaction. Clearing her throat, she says, “no, Henry, of course he does. I think sometimes he’s just… stressed.”

“You’re stressed, but you love me,” he points out.

With a gulp, she says, “and I always will, more than anything. But your dad… he… Well, he just isn’t the type of person to say that like mommy is. That’s why I say it so much,” she smiles.

Her son looks up at her and smiles, his enigmatic gray eyes shining despite the sunlight not reaching this secluded back corner of the library. “I love you, mommy,” he tells her, and he gives her a hug that makes her feel more love than she’s ever felt with her husband.

She’s always been able to compartmentalize the fact that her husband doesn’t love her. That he never once told her that he does. That he married her out of obligation after knocking her up. But she can’t ignore the fact that he shows no love for their son, either.

What’s worse, is that he’s noticed.

~~~~

The town hall is nothing special, the cinderblock walls and the tile floors enough to keep the cold, fall air inside and make Emma shiver when she takes her coat off. Her husband, miserable as he is, gives her a quick smile and a curt nod that tells her she’s only welcome here because of the cameras and their need to portray a happy, loving family. It’s true, he’s always provided for them and made sure that they want for nothing, but it’s limited only to basic needs and material things.

“Hi,” he greets quickly, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek as a camera flashes. She forces herself to smile. “Hi, son.”

Henry grunts up at his father, not making eye contact and not letting go of Emma’s hand. “Hi,” he mumbles.

Emma knows, as much as she hates to admit it, that Henry should give his dad a hug so that Sydney Glass can snap a photo of the wholesome moment. But after their conversation earlier, she isn’t inclined to make him. So, she bends at the knees and gives him a smile, asking, “bub, do you want to give your dad a hug hello?”

He shrugs, looking down at his feet, and reluctantly reaches for Walsh. He laughs happily as he picks Henry up, giving him a squeeze and successfully tricking the few townsfolk here into believing his show. “How was the library, buddy?”

Henry says nothing in return, shrugging and then squirming until Walsh puts him down. He runs back to Emma and takes her hand again, holding on tight, and she paints on a smile and runs her fingers through his hair. “Let’s find a seat, Henry,” she suggests.

“There's seats here for you,” Walsh tells her, gesturing for the first row where there are three folding chairs, each with a placard on them. Mayor Walsh Oswald is first, with Mrs. Walsh Oswald to the right and Mr. Henry Oswald in the center of the two.

Emma takes a seat and has Henry do the same, and after a few more handshakes and photo ops, Walsh sits as well and the ceremony begins. Sydney Glass continues to snap pictures of the crows and of the stage, until the lights dim and the state’s police chief walks on stage.

A speech is made, as if this event is anything more than mundane, and then the mayor is called on stage to complete the induction of the town’s new sheriff. Walsh graces the stage excitedly, earning applause from the small crowd as he waves, and takes the microphone. He says a few words about the town’s safety being the number one priority, and assures everyone that the state police chief surely couldn't have made a better decision when he hired their new sheriff.

And then he calls him onto the stage.

And Emma’s world goes dark.

Killian Jones.

Her eyes must be three times their normal size as he walks onto the stage, and she’s grateful for the dramatic lights because they mean he likely can’t see her. But she can see him.

For the first time in six years, she can see him.

Her breathing quickens and her vision feels blurry, and she realizes that in her haste to get ready this morning, she had barely anything but coffee. She takes a deep breath and clings to the seat of her folding chair with white knuckles, gnawing on her bottom lip until it bleeds as she watches the one that got away place his hand on the bible and repeat a vow of servitude to her husband. She wants to die.

“Mommy?” Henry whispers in the darkness. “Are you okay?”

She swallows against her bone dry throat and nods, giving him a shaky smile, which only serves to worry him some more, likely due to her sudden paleness. “Yes,” she whispers. “Hush, bub. It’s almost done.”

The heart in her chest, the one she gave away to the man on the stage years ago, slams against her ribs almost painfully, until Walsh announces the new sheriff and the crowd begins to cheer. Through panting breaths, she claps, and then grabs Henry’s hand and pulls him as subtly as she can towards the exit and into the chilly November air. “Where are we going?” he asks in confusion.

“Mommy just needs some air,” she explains, gulping in a breath as she throws herself through the double doors.

She squats down and presses her back to the brick wall, burying her face in her hands and trying to steady her breathing before she feels Henry's small hand on her head. He does what she always does to him when he’s upset and begins scratching his fingers against her scalp, and the thoughtful notion brings tears to her eyes. “It’s okay, mommy,” he consoles, and she’s sure he has no idea what’s going on, although he shows her endless compassion either way. She wonders how she got so lucky with such a thoughtful son when he was basically doomed by genetics.

“I’m sorry, bub,” she says softly. “I’m fine, really.”

She hears the doors open to her right and assumes the ceremony must be over, so she turns her head away from the crowd. She hears someone ask Henry if he’s alright and starts wiping at her tears, intent on interrupting the exchange, but when Henry says, “my mommy is sick,” she laughs and shakes her head.

“Shall we get her some help, lad?” he asks, and Emma’s certain that if she had eaten breakfast, she would lose it.

“I don’t need help,” she mumbles, breathing heavily and hiding her face in her hands.

“It’s no problem,” he insists. Then he makes a joke, his tone light and flirty and exactly like she remembers it. “I don't know if you noticed, but I'm here to protect and serve.”

It’s impossible for her to hold in a soft chuckle, cut off by a surprising and breathless sob, and she can’t help but to look up at him. She watches as his jaw drops and his eyes widen; he falters backwards as he takes in the sight of her, denial and shock ever present on his face. He looks like he wants to say something, but words die on his lips and he remains still before he snaps his mouth shut.

“Aren’t you gonna help my mom?” Henry asks in disgust, staring up at Killian in a way that makes Emma want to throw up. She never did think that these two worlds would collide, as much as she may have wanted them to.

He hasn’t broken his gaze from her until he looks at her son and gulps before staring back down at her. “Uh, aye,” he says to Henry. “Do you need some help, miss?”

Without waiting for her answer, he offers her his hand and she takes it. There’s a shock that rushes through her entire body at the feeling of his skin touching hers, and it feels like she’s coming home and losing her sanity all at once. The pains in her chest are overwhelming and she can feel more tears stinging her eyes as he pulls her up from the ground. She nearly topples into his chest once she’s finally standing, because she’s so unsteady that her legs feel like they’re made of the noodles Henry likes in his soup, and he catches her before she can stumble.

He asks, “alright?” with such soft concern that she thinks she would smoothe out his brow and kiss him if not for Henry standing beside them.

She’s about to answer before she hears, “sheriff,” coming from her husband to her right. Her husband. Right.

They spring apart and she looks down at Henry, who is staring up at her with his brows drawn close together and his lips set in a straight, thin line. She gives him a small smile before looking at Walsh and blinking rapidly. “Hi, honey,” she greets. “I just met the sheriff; he was just helping me up. What a great addition to the town.”

Walsh glares at her with a look on his face that tells her she’ll be hearing about this later and then turns to Killian and offers his hand. “I look forward to meeting with you, Mr. Jones,” he says as they shake hands stiffly.

“Pleasure,” he responds. “It was nice to meet you and your family. I’ll see you next week.”

Her husband places a stiff hand on her back, calling for Henry to follow them without bothering to make sure that he actually is, before hissing, “let’s go,” into her ear.

Her heart races for an entirely different reason than it had when she saw Killian Jones.

~~~~

#spaces between us #modern au #cs modern au #cs ff #captain swan fanfic #spaces ff #cs angst #cs fluff #cs smut #eventual smut #adultery fic

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timothyjimothy74 · 4 years ago

Text

Smirk Part 2 - Matthew Tkachuk ft. Brady Tkachuk

Part One

A/N: Thank you all for the love on part one!! It was my first fic so I was blown away so many of you seemed to like it. I decided to turn it into a series because I couldn’t help myself. I hope you love it!

Summary: It’s time for Y/N’s first chirp-filled family dinner with the Tkachuks where she gets to meet Taryn and Chantal.

Word Count: ~3,000

A few hours later, Y/N sat at home with her brother watching an NHL Network special with highlights from the season, but she couldn’t concentrate. Her mind kept wandering to Matthew. That infamous smirk was still stuck in Y/N’s mind. Then suddenly, as if the NHL Network could read her mind, a clip from a Battle of Alberta game played and she was watching him trade punches with Ethan Bear.

Y/N’s brother smiled at her from across the room knowingly. She blushed and silently wished she wouldn’t have told him who she met that day.

“When are you going to post that photo?” He asked for at least the 10th time that day.

“I think enough time has passed now that I can post it,” Y/N said.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t post it right away. That’s what I would have done,” he said.

“I told you I didn’t want to come off creepy or too interested,” Y/N replied.

“Girls make no sense,” he replied and rolled his eyes.

Y/N went to her room so she could freak out in private, opened up Twitter and wrote, “Just a casual day out in St. Louis” and tagged Matthew and Brady. They liked it almost instantly, as if they were waiting for the notification. It only took a few minutes for the chirps to start in the comments.

Matthew Tkachuk @TKACHUKycheese_

Replying to @Y/T/H

Walt is STILL talking about how much cooler you are than me

brady tkachuk @BradyTkachuk71

Replying to @TKACHUKycheese and @Y/T/H

Oh whatever, we all know it’s you who won’t stop talking about her

Y/N liked both comments as she laughed to herself, thinking Brady was just joking as all the Tkachuks seemed to do. When she checked the rest of her notifications, she noticed that Brady had followed her just like he said he would. But another notification caught her off guard.

Matthew Tkachuk followed you

Y/N caught herself smiling for what seemed like the millionth time that day. She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it.

Her jaw dropped a few seconds later when she got another notification.

Brady Tkachuk

Matt really won’t shut up about you and my mom and sister really want to meet the girl that can out-chirp Matt ASAP. Wanna replace Matt at our family dinner Saturday night?

Y/N

Duh! Send me the details and I’ll be there.

Y/N’s thoughts started spiraling. He was really talking about her to his whole family? What did this mean? She didn’t have much time to freak out, though, because soon enough she received a message from another Tkachuk.

Matthew Tkachuk

Brady’s tweet was wrong, you know. I swear it’s my dad that’s been talking about you

Y/N

Oh, really? Because Brady just told me your mom and sister have heard all about me from you and are dying to meet me. I’m replacing you at dinner Saturday night

Matthew Tkachuk

…No one told me we were having family dinner Saturday night

Y/N

Exactly. Have fun stuck at home!

Matthew Tkachuk

We’ll see about that

While Y/N was getting a lot of enjoyment out of her childhood hero saying he liked her more than his own son, she did wish Matthew would be there Saturday too so she could see that smirk again in person, but she kept that part to herself.

_________

When Brady told Y/N they were going to Charlie Gitto’s, she swore her stomach growled in that moment. Two things filled her mind as she was getting ready Saturday: the toasted raviolis she would demolish and the small hope that Matthew would weasel his way into dinner anyway.

Either way, she was going to look good. Charlie Gitto’s wasn’t very fancy, but she still wasn’t sure what she should wear out to eat with the Tkachuks so she texted Brady, who had given her his number to discuss the details of family dinner easier. They fell into an easy friendly conversation and hadn’t stopped talking since.

Y/N

Can you ask Taryn what she’s wearing? I don’t want to overdress or underdress

Brady Tkachuk

Giving the phone to her as we speak

Hi, Y/N! I’m just wearing a yellow sundress and sandals. You can wear whatever you want though, I’m sure you’ll look great. I can’t wait to meet you!

Y/N

Thanks, Taryn!! I can’t wait to meet you too, sis!

Brady Tkachuk

Sista, sista!

This conversation definitely eased some of Y/N’s nervousness for the evening and she was able to enjoy getting ready. She danced around her room to her favorite Lady Gaga song as she curled her hair, put on some light makeup and put on a light blue sundress with multi-colored flowers and sandals.

As she drove to the restaurant, she started to get nervous again. Before when she was debating whether she should talk to the boys or not at Ted Drewes, she had nothing to lose if they said no. Now, she felt like she was becoming friends with Brady and she was nervous that Chantal wouldn’t like her. She was also nervous Matthew didn’t like her like she wanted him to, but she still didn’t want to admit that.

Y/N’s thoughts were interrupted as she heard her phone go off. She made sure she was parked safely before she even looked at it.

Brady Tkachuk

Hey, we just got here. You close?

Y/N

Just pulled in

Y/N scanned the parking lot for a second before she saw Brady running over to her car. He was opening her car door and pulling her in for a hug before she could even step out.

“Whoa, someone’s excited. What’s up with you?” Y/N asked cautiously.

“My mom felt bad for making Matthew stay home so she let him come to dinner. He has been getting on my nerves all day laughing because my plan failed so I have really been looking forward to you roasting him,” Brady explained.

Y/N tried to hide her excitement that Matthew was there by sharing a laugh with Brady. But she still had her concerns.

“Not that I don’t enjoy roasting Matthew, but I feel like me and you have become friends in the last few days and I’m afraid to do something that will make your mom not like me,” Y/N said quietly.

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for Brady to laugh, but he did.

“Y/N/N, first of all, we are most definitely friends. Second, my mom can be protective over us, but Matthew gets on her nerves too. Literally no one we’ve ever met can roast him as hard as you do. He’s finally getting back what he dishes out and we live for it. Mom already loves you, you have nothing to worry about,” he replied, knowing just what to say to comfort her.

“Thanks, Brades. I needed to hear that,” Y/N said and sighed in relief, finally feeling better.

“Anytime. Now, let’s go. I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he said as he put his arm around her and almost ran towards the rest of the Tkachuks on the other side of the parking lot.

“Y/N!” Walt shouted as he saw you both approaching. Brady dropped his arm so Walt could hug her. “It’s nice to see you again,” he said with a huge smile on his face.

Y/N smiled back at him after the hug, but before she could even respond, Taryn was squealing and pulling her in for a hug. “HI, sis!” Y/N and Taryn shared a laugh.

“I’m happy to finally meet you, sis,” Y/N replied before it was Chantal’s turn for a hug.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said as she looked over at a slightly pink Matthew. Y/N looked at him briefly, but tried not to let her gaze linger. “I’m so glad to finally meet you,” she said with a genuine smile. “It’s nice to meet you too. Thank you for letting me intrude on your family dinner,” Y/N said with a smile.

“You’re not intruding, honey. We’re all happy to have you here,” she said with another pointed look at Matthew.

Y/N smiled. She felt herself become more relaxed for a second before she realized that everyone was glancing between her and Matthew.

“Y/N,” Matthew said her name formally as a way of greeting her and looked into her eyes.

“What, cat finally got your tongue after talking about me all week?” Y/N smirked at him, turned on her heel and headed for the restaurant. She could hear all the Tkachuks laughing at Matthew behind her. Damn, that felt good. The only thing Y/N enjoyed more than Matthew’s smirk was his pink cheeks after she teased him.

Dinner was better than what Y/N expected. The Tkachuks asked Y/N a lot of questions about her life, Matthew would try to chirp her, she would chirp him back even harder without even trying, everyone else would laugh and that would shut him up for about 10 minutes before he got the nerve to try to chirp her again. She never wanted it to end.

“Can we have a family game night tonight?” Taryn asked just as they were finishing up dessert, seemingly reading Y/N’s mind.

“Absolutely, we haven’t had one in forever,” Walt answered.

“Can Y/N/N come?” Brady asked.

Walt nodded, but Matthew spoke before he got the chance to respond outloud.

“If she wants to lose, she’s more than welcome to come,” Matthew said with his signature smirk.

But Y/N’s comeback rolled right off her tongue. “What, like you’re going to be able to concentrate enough to win anything with all the beer you’ve had?”

Matthew was about to argue with her, but Taryn could feel like he was going to say something mean and interrupted. “We always play Skip-Bo. Have you ever played?”

“Once or twice,” Y/N replied. Matthew laughed at this. So did Y/N, but for a different reason.

Brady, who was completely oblivious, said, “I’ll teach you. You can be on my team.”

“Thanks, Brades. It can’t be that hard if Matthew can do it,” Y/N chirped and gave Matthew a smirk. He looked back at Y/N and smiled just like he had the day they met at Ted Drewes. Y/N was so lost in his eyes that she missed the rest of the Tkachuk family laughing and patting her on the back for her latest chirp at Matthew.

Y/N looked back down at the piece of gooey butter cake sitting in front of her and tried to keep her thoughts from spinning.

Thankfully, Chantal piped up, “You’re more than welcome to spend the night after, Y/N. Our game nights usually last all night.”

“Yeah, you can stay in my room!” Taryn said excitedly.

“That would be great, thank you guys!” Y/N responded. “If someone wants to give me your address, I can take my car and meet you there.”

“Taryn and I will go with you and give you directions,” Brady said as Taryn’s face lit up.

“Well, they both have a terrible taste in music so you’ll need a good DJ on the way there. I can help you there” Matthew said. There was that smirk again. Although she liked it more than she wanted to admit, it was getting a little annoying. She had the sudden urge to wipe it off his face.

“You can come, but I’m giving the aux to Taryn,” Y/N replied, which earned a cheer from Taryn and an eye roll from Matthew.

After dinner was over, Y/N thanked Walt for paying for it and led the Tkachuk siblings to her car. Y/N got in first and expected Taryn to get in the passenger seat since she told everyone she was getting the aux, but Matthew appeared smiling next to her and Taryn got in the back seat, clearly annoyed. Y/N looked between the two of them, clearly confused.

“He pushed me out of the way. I fell and scraped my knee,” Taryn explained.

That’s all Y/N needed to know before she hit Matthew across the chest. “What is your damage, dude?”

Matthew put his hand over where she hit him and sighed dramatically. “She’s just being dramatic because she lost the race here and-” he tried to explain before Y/N cut him off.

“Apologize and switch seats with your sister or I swear to god, I will leave you at this restaurant and you can Uber home,” Y/N said as Brady and Taryn cheered.

Matthew turned around and glared at them both before switching seats with Taryn. “Listen, I’m really sorry, Taryn. I just wanted to play one song.”

“You’re so dramatic. Play your stupid song and then let Taryn have the aux. Now, someone please lead me to your house so we don’t stay in this parking lot all night,” Y/N sighed. Taryn started leading her to their house while Matthew tried to find the song he wanted to play.

When it started playing, Y/N thought her heart stopped beating. It was the very same Lady Gaga song she had listened to while she was dancing around her room earlier in the day. This felt like a sign. She tried to even her breathing so she could sing along quietly.

After the song ended, Brady said, “Out of all the songs in the world you could have picked, you pick You and I? That’s so lame, dude.”

He must have been oblivious to the fact that Y/N was singing along too, but something told her Matthew knew. She looked up at him in her rearview mirror and he looked back at her when he said, “It’s my favorite song.”

Nothing could hold back Y/N’s thoughts now. The way he had been looking at her all night, the way it took almost nothing for her to get his cheeks to turn pink, the way he played that freaking song. Did he like her?

Taryn played the Jonas Brothers and U sang along, trying to act like she was playing her favorite song in the world and that Matthew hadn’t just played it minutes ago.

As soon as she took two steps into the Tkachuk house, Walt was insisting on giving her the grand tour. Brady and Matthew followed when Walt took her downstairs to show her all the hockey memorabilia in the basement.

They hadn’t talked about hockey much yet, but Walt could tell she loved the game and was trying to hold back on the fangirling. He was proven correctly when he showed her his game-worn jersey from his last NHL game in 2010 and started to talk about how he played that day, but Y/N remembered.

“I actually went to that game with my family. We wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I remember you had two assists and the Blues won that day. I thought it was so cool that Brady, Taryn and Matthew went on the ice with you. I think it’s even cooler now that Brady and Matthew are in the NHL themselves.”

Even Walt didn’t remember that he had two assists that day. He, Brady and Matthew exchanged glances. They were all impressed at her knowledge.

Just then, Chantal called downstairs. “You guys will be down there all night if I don’t stop you. Come upstairs, let’s play Skip-Bo!”

“Clearly we need to talk about hockey more often, Y/N,” Walt said. “You’ve been holding out on us.”

“I’d love that. I didn’t want to come across as a fangirl, but hockey is a huge part of my life,” Y/N replied.

“You fit right in, Y/N/N,” Brady said and everyone laughed. Well, everyone but Matthew laughed. Matthew was oddly silent. Y/N braced herself for a reaction that didn’t come.

As soon as they got upstairs, the boys went to change and Brady motioned for Y/N to follow him. “Here, let me get you sweats and a t-shirt. We’ve gotta be comfy if we want to beat dad and Matthew,” Brady said seriously.

Y/N decided now was a good time to let him in on her plan. “Brades, I play Skip-Bo with my family all the time. I’m kind of an expert,” Y/N whispered. “But don’t tell anyone, I want to wipe that stupid smirk off Matthew’s face and kick his ass. He’s been so annoying tonight. ”

Brady’s eyes got bigger than his head. “You are my favorite person ever. This is about to be a very fun night,” he said and you both laughed.

“I’m gonna go change and I’ll meet you there, partner,” Y/N said.

What Y/N didn’t expect was that Y/N was going to wipe the smirk off Matthew’s face before the game even started. When Y/N met Brady in the living room, both of them wearing Senators shirts, she felt like someone was staring at her. She turned around to see Matthew giving her a death glare. She didn’t understand so she looked at Brady, who was trying to contain his laugh as he pointedly said, “Looking good in Senators gear, Y/N/N!” just loudly enough that Matthew would be able to hear him. Matthew stormed into the dining room where they would be playing.

“What was that?” Y/N asked Brady.

“I was just testing a theory,” he said casually as if that was supposed to explain it all. It did, but she still wanted to hear Brady say it.

“Do you think he-“ Y/N started to ask before Brady cut her off.

“Obviously. Do you-“ he started to ask, but it was Y/N’s turn to cut him off.

“Obviously,” Y/N replied.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun!” Brady exclaimed before dragging Y/N into the dining room.

Part 3

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be-not-afeared · 4 years ago

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Black Sails fic recs

Working titles: 12 fics for christmas? 12 days of ficmas? 12 fics none of which actually have anything to do with christmas?

OKAY, so I love nothing more than a fic rec post, and I’ve seen a few Black Sails rec posts floating around but they mostly seem to be a couple of years old and they all recommend a similar bunch of fics (and deservedly so! they are all amazing!). But I thought I would make one to highlight some newer or less shouted-about fics, because I may have only been here for a couple of months but jfc there is so much talent in this fandom and more of it deserves to be hyped.

So, here are 12 of my favourite fics for the 12 days of christmas! (i.e. an excuse to put an arbitrary number cap on the list or we’d be here all day)

The majority of these are Silver/Flint and the ones that aren’t still all feature Silver prominently because that boy owns my soul, sorry for who I am as a person.

we should rip it straight out by minormendings

45K (Silver/Madi, Silver/Flint, Flint/Thomas)

Madi has always wondered if Silver understands what is between him and Flint as well as she. To her, it has always been obvious, from the way the two of them had fit together, had worried about each other, had acted as one. She had tried to bring it up with Silver back when they were together. But Silver had shaken her off, too enmired in the idea that he or Flint would prove each other’s downfall. Or perhaps just unwilling to open his eyes to the fact that he had loved Flint.

It was, unfortunately for the both of them, even more obvious after the thing between them had broken. Just as Silver had thrown away the war out of love for her, Flint had let Silver take away the war rather than kill him.

God. What a group the three of them were, showing love by betrayal.

Post-canon. Madi and Flint find their way back to Silver.

This fic diverges from canon right at the end of the 4x10; Silver has Flint held in a cell in Port Royal and Thomas delivered to him rather than taking him straight to the plantation. It is a BEAUTIFUL character study of how Flint and Madi could both come to forgive Silver, and has a great FlintMadi dynamic too. It also centres Madi’s struggle between wanting to provide for her people and wanting to experience the freedom of piracy, and fleshes out Julius’ character in a way the show never did.

we can lose and call it living by I_wouldnt_be_one_of_them

31K (Silver/Flint/Thomas, Silver/Flint, Flint/Thomas)

It's been twelve years since everything fell apart, and John Silver is settled in New England. He has a nice house and a job he likes, and he's gotten used to the loneliness. It's a good life, he thinks, but of course that's cast into doubt when James Flint and Thomas Hamilton show up to find closure and, apparently, to see whether he's happy.

This is an inverse of the ‘silver arrives on flint and thomas’ doorstep’ trope and has Flint and Thomas instead being the ones to interrupt Silver, who is living a sad and lonely existence post-series. I love the ThomasSilver dynamic here. And this Silver feels so true to canon he makes me want to WEEP.

Tell me we're dead and I'll love you even more by Craftnarok

21K (Silver/Flint)

In the year 1725, or thereabouts, John Silver finds himself driven by a storm into an inconsequential little port town, barely a speck on any civilised map. Returned to the life of a drifter, tired and rough around the edges, he is resigned to waiting for the weather to pass before he can sail on again to the next town, and the next, and the next. That is until he overhears a conversation in the inn about a local fisherman, one Captain Barlow, and his tall tales of tempests and becalmings, devils and sharks, and Silver finds a new future opening up to him, haunted by the spectres of his past.

All of Craftnarok’s fics are amazing but I am particularly drawn to this one; it’s set 10 years post-series and is a delightfully angsty exploration of how Flint and Silver could find their way back to each other in a scenario in which Thomas wasn’t at the plantation. It doesn’t let Silver off easy and I love that.

armed with the past and the will by whimsicalimages

3K (Silver/Madi, Madi & Julius)

The language of winning and losing, this language that men favor – Madi can speak this language, though she disagrees with its precepts. Success takes different forms, and failing once does not mean failing forever. It does not even mean failing the next time.

Post-series, Julius teaches Madi how to fight. This fic is BEAUTIFUL - give me anything that centres Madi post-canon - and it explores Madi’s relationship with both Julius and Silver so well in so few words.

Always In Season by mycapeisplaid

60K (Silver/Flint, past Flint/Thomas, past Silver/Madi)

Towering sand dunes, crystal-clear water, miles of forest, vineyards, orchards, and very spotty cellular service -- John Silver finds himself in a part of the state he's never been before and decides to take on seasonal work. Meanwhile, back from his yearly wintering in Florida, James Flint thinks that perhaps he'll take on a new business venture, even though it means he might have to interact with people other than his two close friends. Their summer employment fosters a friendship that could become something more. Like construction season in Michigan, the two must navigate through their own obstacles in order to seek an alternative route toward happiness.

This is an AU and so much fun!! Silver finds himself in Michigan and takes on some seasonal work at Guthrie Dunes. The whole cast features and the setting just WORKS SO WELL. And this Flint feels brilliantly in character despite the difference in setting.

to make a life by gone_girl

53K (Max/Anne, Max & Silver)

“What am I going to do with your name?” Max asks, a little incredulous.

“Whatever you want,” the salesman says. “Didn’t you want something real?”

Max heard a story once about the importance of answering questions like that carefully. If something emerges from the forest and asks for your name, don’t give it up, the story went. Offer only what you know you can live without. She’s never heard a story that tells her what to do when something emerges from the forest and offers its name to you.

I literally only finished this this morning but holy shit this fic is amazing, it’s a Max-centric AU set in Missouri the early 00s and it’s all about found family and building community and platonic love and it has a brilliant SilverMadi dynamic. And there just aren’t enough fics out there that focus on Max & Silver!!

the straight walk home by vowelinthug

73K (Silver/Flint)

Let me tell you a story, about a vaquero named Vasquez…

Obviously vowelinthug’s fics are recc’d all the time and rightly so as they are AMAZING, but one that I don’t see featured as often as the more prominent ones is this incredible Western!AU. It’s 73K guys!! It adapts the canon narrative into the Western setting SO well!! It has background Vane/Billy which I was not at all sure about going in but just WORKS!! Go read it.

The Truth about Eros by Aisalynn

21K (Silver/Flint, Silver/Madi, Flint/Thomas)

Silver understood one thing very well.

Being Fated did not mean you were safe.

It did not mean you were loved.

This one is hot off the press! I am not normally a fan of soulmate AUs but this is such an interesting take on the trope, and the world building fits around the polyamory theme of the show really effectively! And it is SO well written.

With Nothing on My Tongue by RosieTwiggs

13K (Silver/Flint, Silver/Madi)

"Silver thinks: Maybe God likes it when I fight with him.

He wonders now, whether he’s been playing into God’s plan all along. Because no matter how angry he gets, how defensive, how many “fuck you”s he flings to the heaven, isn’t it all just proof that he still believes God is there, despite it all?

Silver doesn’t know how to counter that.

Maybe he doesn’t want to anymore."

An incredibly well written (and angsty! read the tags!) Jewish!Silver character study. This one has really stayed with me.

Maybe in Another Life by samedifference61

31K (Silver/Flint/Madi, Flint/Madi, Silver/Flint, Silver/Madi)

At the rail of a ship James doesn’t command, they stand shoulder to shoulder.

“John still thinks you’re dead,” James states, because it’s something that needs to be said aloud before they continue.

With eyes unblinking toward the rolling sea, Madi says, “And he still thinks you should be dead.”

James’ lip curls in anger. The wounds of betrayal are too fresh for either to say anymore.

Canon-divergent from 4x09, this is a brilliant MadiFlint centric fic exploring their relationship post Silver’s betrayal, and how he could find his way back to them both whilst acknowledging the weight of his actions.

in a vault of starlight by whimsicalimages

7K (Silver/Madi/Flint/Thomas)

The distance between Nassau and Savannah can be measured as: six hundred and thirteen nautical miles, five thousand pounds’ worth of pearls, or four extraordinary lifetimes.

Alternatively: in the aftermath, Madi writes her own story.

There aren’t enough Madi centric fics out there! This one is a lovely extension of canon with a great MadiSilver dynamic in particular.

the aftershocks remain by pdameron

31K (Silver & Miranda, Silver/Flint)

For as long as he can remember, John Silver has been able to see ghosts. He has no trouble keeping this secret from Flint - until Charlestown. Until Miranda.

Again all of pdameron’s fics are brilliant but I loooove this SilverMiranda centric one, plus who doesn’t love a ghost!au.

#Black Sails #black sails fanfic #black sails fic recs #silverflint #silvermadi #john silver #james flint #12 days of ficmas #obviously this only scratches the surface of the many amazing fics in this fandom #i might do another one of these after christmas i just love making lists #enjoy!

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monabela · 3 years ago

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hello! it seems to be @aphrarepairweek2021 and I'm not one to ignore that! here's some... domestic denfin stuff for day 1, language. I've gone for a pretty liberal approach to the prompts this year, but that's mostly so that all my fics will fit into the same universe :> (it is also the same universe as two of last year's rarepairweek fics! I'll make a tag for it) (that is also the reason I had to call sve berwald and not torbjörn like I usually do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) they will all be standalone little fics but take place in the same au, over the same sort of time period!

in major scale

pairings/characters: Denmark (Søren)/Finland (Tuomi), Estonia (Eduard), Sweden (Berwald), Hungary (Erzsébet) + past SuFin mentioned word count: 2219 summary: Tuomi admires how much Søren cares about other people. It inspires him to do the same.

A series of thumps and clomps heralds Søren’s arrival home. Tuomi looks up with amusement when the door of his little home studio in the back of their house bursts open.

“Tuomi!” Søren shouts. He brings with him the smell of recent rain and early spring blossoms.

Eduard, who is sitting behind Tuomi at his keyboard and wearing headphones, very nearly tumbles off his stool in shock.

“Søren!” Tuomi just returns, while his brother rights himself and glares. “You seem unusually excited.”

Eduard snorts, which makes Søren grin. ‘Unusually excited’ means something different when applied to him than most other people.

“Guess what!” he says, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. His socked feet are both tapping on the ground, with no rhythm to it. Tuomi is sure he couldn’t say what’s got into him; as far as he knows, Søren was just looking after his young nephews for the afternoon.

“Your brother didn’t hide the sugar well enough,” he guesses.

“No, that’s—well, he didn’t, but that’s not my point. Berwald’s gettin’ married!” Now, he waves his arms around wildly. “My brother’s gettin’ married, Tuomi! I’m so proud of him.”

Turning slightly, Tuomi exchanges an amused look with his own brother, who has taken his headphones off and is leaning forward over his keyboard, elbows planted over the keys.

“Now, Søren,” Eduard starts, using his haughtiest voice, which is very haughty. It’s an odd talent.

“Don’t you dare,” he interrupts, though he’s still grinning, “bring up the time he and Tuomi were plannin’ on gettin’ hitched, ‘cause that was ages ago and ain’t relevant anymore.”

“Alright, alright.” Eduard holds up his hands placatingly, and Tuomi just snickers. Søren’s right, he thinks; it’s been over fifteen years since then, and although the whole thing where he took up with the brother of the man who was nearly his husband was awkward at first, for all that it happened several years later, he’s since become good friends with Berwald again. It’s probably better this way.

“That’s great, Søren!” he just says. “And you’re gonna be the best man, I assume?”

“Of course!” His dark blue eyes crinkle at the corners, scrunching up his many freckles in laugh lines and dimples. Tuomi really admires how much Søren cares about other people, even if sometimes it comes at the expense of himself. Tuomi can always remedy that, after all.

“That means you’re gonna have to help with a bunch of organizing, isn’t it?”

“Don’t sound do skeptical of me, Eduard!” Pushing away from the door, Søren lightly strums the strings of an uncovered acoustic guitar sitting in its stand before taking a large step towards Tuomi and bending down to kiss him over the microphone between them, Tuomi angling his own electric guitar out of the way. He smells like sea wind and hair gel, and does taste distinctly sugary behind the smile his lips are still curved into.

Tuomi mutters, “I think you’ll do great. Berwald’s lucky to have you.”

“I hope so. Y’know, the boys are excited as anythin’.” Now, he practically melts, draping his long limbs over Tuomi and his guitar. He always does this when he as much as thinks about his nephews, Berwald’s young sons. Tuomi and Søren are very much the fun uncles. It is a title they both wear with pride.

Patting his jeans-clad ass affectionately, Tuomi pushes his nose into Søren’s wild coppery hair.

“Yeah? They’ve given their blessing, then?”

“Already fightin’ over who gets to be ringbearer.”

“Cute.”

The door of the studio opens.

“Whoa! Am I interrupting?” shouts Tuomi’s half-sister, bursting in.

Eduard, now leaning his head in his hands, says, “Please save me.”

“Berwald’s gettin’ married!” Søren shouts, into Tuomi’s ear. He gets along with Erzsébet far too well.

“Tuomi’s ex?” she yells back, and Eduard promptly loses it. He doubles over his keyboard in hiccupping laughter, shaking and pressing almost all the keys in a horrifyingly discordant tone. Søren looks betrayed in a very comical way. He crosses his arms as he turns to Erzsébet, folding his hands into the sleeves of his red knit sweater. Berwald made that one.

“She not wrong,” Tuomi tells him, holding back laughter of his own. Now even more comically betrayed, Søren turns back to him, with his dark eyebrows raised high and ready to deliver a quasi-outraged speech, but Erzsébet forestalls him.

“You need to make a song for the wedding!”

“Yes!” Tuomi perks up, almost poking Søren in the hip with the neck of his guitar.

“A song?” the man echoes, looking between all three of them. Eduard is now only playing a couple of notes at the same time, thankfully, and he straightens up fully to explain their family tradition.

“We always do it for weddings. It has to be something they’d like, and something the couple can dance to.”

“And then we give it funny lyrics,” Tuomi finishes, “about the person getting married. But we always make sure it’s good.”

“Well, I ain’t surprised about that part, ya snobs.” Søren shakes his head affectionately. He has absolutely no feel for music, but that just means that he appreciates things that most other people wouldn’t give their time of day.

It also means that he somehow considers Tuomi’s very musically inclined family to be elitist about music, which Tuomi thinks is dumb, but he’s not one to argue. He’ll leave that to his brother; it’s very amusing. As a matter of fact, Eduard is already narrowing his eyes at Søren, but doesn’t say anything before he continues.

“I don’t know if Berwald would like that, honestly. It’s not really something we do.”

“Come on, everyone likes music!” Erzsébet enthuses, walking further inside and skirting around Søren and Tuomi in the small space to lean an elbow on Eduard’s shoulder.

“Sure, he likes it, but, I mean—we ain’t like you guys, is all.”

No one is quite like his family, Tuomi thinks, but he appreciates that all the more these days. Søren is the most generous, openminded person he knows, and has broadened his worldview amazingly in the time they’ve been together. Not that his family isn’t openminded; they’re just less inclined to explore than Søren is.

Still, “Music is a universal language, isn’t it?” Tuomi asks him, bumping his shoulder into Søren’s upper arm. He inclines his head in agreement. “It doesn’t even have to have lyrics if you think Berwald wouldn’t like it. Or his fiancé, of course,” he adds, because he doesn’t know the man that well but knows he, like Berwald, doesn’t really appreciate being made fun of, even in good humor.

This is, again, unlike Søren, which is probably why it didn’t work out with his brother and does work with him.

Well, it’s part of it.

Erzsébet, the lyricist of the family, gasps dramatically at the mention of not having lyrics to go with the song, and coughs. She should really quit smoking. Eduard pats her back awkwardly, getting a face full of long brown hair for his efforts.

“And then?” Søren’s asking, but his head is still tilted thoughtfully, as if he’s considering it.

“Well, then it can be for a dance! Consider it a wedding gift from me.”

“His ex,” Erzsébet murmurs, recovered, and Eduard starts giggling again.

“His brother-in-law.” Tuomi blindly throws a guitar pick at her over his shoulder, which, going by the plink and following yelp, hits Eduard’s glasses instead.

Huh. That’s pretty impressive.

“Well, someone will have to teach him how to dance first—”

They all look away.

“—but that sounds awesome, actually! Would you guys be willing to play it?” In his excitement, Søren has leaned very close to Tuomi again, vision filling with his grin and his many, many freckles, and Tuomi can’t help but kiss the corner of his mouth.

“I’d love to.”

His siblings make agreeing noises.

“Right! Well, should I—what’re you guys workin’ on, actually?” Søren gazes around the small space as if hoping to glean clues. Which clues, Tuomi is not sure. He can’t really read music, after all.

“Just tinkering a bit,” Tuomi says. Eduard plays the first few chords of the most recent wedding song they’d written, several years ago already. Erzsébet slaps the cymbal of her drum set in apparent agreement, reaching behind her.

“Hey, I wrote some lyrics, actually,” she says. “I think they’re pretty good.”

It’s been years since they actually made original music that they deemed good enough to send out into the world, but their songs are still getting decent amounts of listeners on Spotify, which is nice; it’s mostly a hobby for all three of them, after all. Lately, though, Eduard and Tuomi have started seriously considering making some new material, and Erzsébet seems to be on board. She promises to send the lyrics to both of them. Although she, like both of her half-brothers and much to Søren’s amazement, plays several instruments, she doesn’t have much talent for composing.

Tuomi tried to teach Søren guitar once. It was fun, but very unsuccessful. He does like the drums.

That’s probably why he gets along with Erzsébet so well.

Deciding that today is probably not going to be very productive, all four of them go into the house instead, and Tuomi makes coffee while Søren hands out some cupcakes that he made yesterday, because Søren very much believes that food is a universal language. He isn’t wrong, if you ask Tuomi, but that’s mostly because Søren is very good at making food, unlike Tuomi.

They’ve all got their talents, he supposes, and it’s how they use them in combination that matters. Even if he’s been banned from using the oven for anything more than frozen pizza.

Eduard, of course, asks for the recipe, because Eduard didn’t get that memo about talents and has too many of them.

Tuomi’s siblings don’t actually stay around for very long after that, both promising to think about the wedding song for Berwald. It is mostly an empty promise on Erzsébet’s part, but that’s okay. Eduard walks away while muttering about waltzes, which Tuomi appreciates, because Berwald seems like a man—is a man, he knows this—who appreciates a bit of tradition, and he’s never tried to compose an instrumental, mostly classical song before.

“You’re adorable, you know,” he tells Søren, who’s standing behind him in the hallway of their house after having seen his siblings off. Søren just grins, rocking back on his heels, hands clasped behind his back and looking much younger than he is.

“I’m just happy for my brother.”

“I know.” Tuomi reaches up to flick some errant hair out of the way. “It’s really cute.”

He gets excited about the smallest things, Søren. Random dogs on the street and odd world records and warm coats and almost everything that’s even a little bit nice. It’d get annoying, Tuomi’s sure, if he weren’t so sincere about it all the time. He got very excited about their civil union as well, which was honestly mostly practical. Tuomi had almost wanted to get married, just to see his reaction to it, but he’d decided years before that marriage wasn’t for him, and remains glad that he stuck by that belief, in the end.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Søren suddenly asks, blue eyes searching Tuomi’s face.

“What? Oh, no, of course not. Berwald’s a good man, and he deserves to be happy.” He shrugs. “I know he’s always wanted the whole… Domestic thing.”

“Guy’s had a plan for a wedding since he was twelve or something,” Søren confirms, grinning. “Only took him thirty years and a couple kids.”

Tuomi knows; he was shown the plan, sixteen years ago, but he decides not to mention that. It’d been quite intimidating at the time; he’d only been 22 and much more interested in… Well, practically anything besides marriage.

Søren slings an arm across his shoulders, squeezing him tightly to his lanky form, and starts walking them both back to the kitchen.

“You’d know, I guess,” he muses, then pulls a face. Tuomi laughs.

“That one was your fault!”

“I know, I know. Don’t remind me.”

Tuomi stops walking, tilting his head up at Søren.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asks. Turning back, Søren blinks at him.

“Obviously not,” he says, but he bites the inside of his cheek and furrows his dark brows, so there’s evidently something more there.

There’s another thing Tuomi had to be taught by Søren; reading body language. It’s not his fault his family is so unexpressive!

“But?” he prompts.

“I just hope I can do well for him.” Søren shrugs. “He’s my big brother, y’know, and I do kinda feel like I ruined his first chance of marriage sometimes. I know that’s dumb,” he adds hastily.

Tuomi mumbles, “Yeah, that was definitely me.” And then, “Like you say, he’s your big brother. He loves you. Speaking as someone with two older siblings, they might razz you a bit—”

“That’s just your siblings, Tuomi,” Søren interrupts, but the grin is back on his face and just as bright as before. “But I get what you’re saying. Thanks.”

Tuomi boots him with his shoulder, and he laughs, clomping ahead. Tuomi follows, quickly.

Before he eats all the other cupcakes.

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cosplayingwitch · 3 years ago

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"Presentation is Everything"

Part two of "Finding My Way Home" series

Takes place 6-8 months after the last chapter

Prompt: flowers

Pairing: f!reader x Poe Dameron

Summary: Reader has graduated with their masters and had to leave their roommate/best friend/(crush?) behind as they go on to a doctoral program at a different university. Reader is about to present her work at a professional conference and an unexpected surprise calms her down.

Triggers: panic attack, slight stalker-ish behavior, these two being complete idiots, swearing

Tags: @make-me-imagine

It’d been over six months since you’d seen your best friend, Poe Dameron. You were successful enough with your thesis (even while practically teaching a field class for Professor Solo) and graduated with your Masters degree. And with the help of Professor Solo’s recommendation, you'd gotten into your dream school for your PhD.

Which meant moving two states away from your best friend/roommate. Not exactly something you’d wanted to do, but this wasn’t an opportunity you could turn down.

When you’d told Poe, he was very supportive, but still sad about the whole thing. You’d definitely stay in touch, you insisted. There was social media, zoom, all of that.

“Plus we could always meet up somewhere between us!” you told him. “It wouldn’t be more than a couple hours for each of us.”

That didn’t mean you didn’t miss him. His random breaking into song at what could be described as the worst possible times. What he always described as his ‘fact of the day’, which always dissolved into a random string of thoughts. (He still sent you his ‘fact of the day’ via text, but it wasn’t the same without his commentary.)

Remembering the night you spent stargazing, you also realized you missed your chance to tell him how you felt. To outright ask him out on a date. You always rationalized the urge away as not wanting to ruin your friendship, as him probably not feeling the same way as you. Who knows if he was even into girls (or anyone at all). In the many years you’d lived together, he’d never brought someone back to the apartment you shared.

(That’s because he wanted you, your heart shouted at you, you’re an idiot to let that go. But your brain insisted there had to be other reasons.)

Either way, the research you’d done with Professor Solo didn’t just get you into your doctoral program. You’d be presenting at a research conference soon. On your own. (That was a theme with Professor Solo. He’d help you start something, then insist you do the rest of the work.) This was your first time even attending this conference, let alone presenting at one. My god, you thought. How am I supposed to do this? Alone?

This will go down in flames, the voice in your head continued. You’ll fuck it up and ruin your academic reputation. And then never get your doctorate or a job.

When you get to your hotel the day before the conference was set to begin, every worry you’d ever had was spinning through your head. All the ways you could screw up nearly had you in a panic attack. Oh god, you thought, please let me get to my room before I start hyperventilating.

But then, you entered your room to find flowers. Yellow roses with a hint of red. Your favorite.

There was only one person on the planet who knew that. Poe Dameron. But how did he know where to send the flowers? Was he stalking you? The card read:

‘For my friend who I haven’t seen in forever,

My friend who is likely in a panic attack,

My friend who will kill it with her presentation.

You don’t need it, but good luck.’

God, he could write. And it’d been six months and hundreds of miles, but he still knew you well enough to anticipate what you were feeling right now.

In an instant you had your phone out and were calling him.

“Well look who finally called. I guess the flowers did the trick?” Poe answered.

“How did you even know where to send them? I never told you where I was staying! Are you stalking me or something?”

Poe explained, “Well, while you didn’t tell me the hotel you were in, you did tell me every other detail about the conference. And their website had the ‘official hotel’ of the conference, so I figured you’d stay there. The office there wouldn’t say if you were, but did tell me I could get flowers delivered there and he’d make sure they went where they needed to go. I took the chance. Obviously it worked, you called me and I didn’t even leave my name on the card.”

“You could say that. Thanks, by the way. You were right, I’m starting to freak out. I’m presenting my research tomorrow. The stuff I did for my masters. All these other presenters already have their doctorates.” you reason with him. “Maybe I’ll get there someday.”

Poe about exploded through the phone. “MAYBE? MAYBE you’ll get that degree ‘some day’? I did NOT lose my best friend to another university three states away to ‘maybe’ get a degree. You WILL get it. Not tomorrow, but eventually.”

You couldn’t tell if he was angry, joking, or trying to encourage you. A mix of the three? Somehow it did feel like he was trying to give you a pep talk. Break you out of the panic setting in and focus you back on the goal. He knew how much you wanted this and he would never discourage you from going after it.

“Okay then. How about you tell me about what’s going on back home and take my mind off this whole thing.”

Oh god, you thought. You referred to where he was as home. I mean the university, you rationalize, the place where I just lived and studied for six years. Poe’ll probably think that’s the case anyway. You certainly did not mean him.

“Well, you know while you’ve been gone, I went and knocked off another thing on my bucket list. I’m a few weeks away from having my pilot’s license!” Poe stated, which sent you into a small laughing fit. You knew he’d always wanted to, but with his awful driving skills you never thought it’d actually happen.

“Good for you, I guess. Just be careful- I definitely don’t need my best friend dying in a plane crash.”

When you finally got off the phone with Poe, it was late. You’d had room service delivered while you were still talking, him likewise with delivery. In some ways, it was like you were back together again, having dinner on the coffee table while gossiping about the faculty and staff at the university. Who was having an affair, who was being suspected of plagiarism, whatever the next big scandal would be and how the university would cover it up this time.

It was just the thing you needed to make you relax. Your boyfriend best friend supporting you.

You stopped yourself. Not again. Poe was not your boyfriend. He was a friend and nothing more. And you certainly weren’t screwing that up.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, or maybe the bottom of your heart, you couldn’t help but think of him in a romantic way. That maybe your relationship with Poe could evolve into something more. Maybe even hope for that happy ending. After all, he could have just texted you good luck, but he chose to send your favorite flowers and a beautifully written card.

That would count as a romantic overture in your mind. If you were in some kind of cheesy rom-com with him, that is.

Friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. Friends. You remind yourself.

Friends.

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

Poe kept running that conversation over in his mind for days. I was a fucking idiot for sending her flowers, he thought. The note was even worse. Both were definitely something romantic, but he didn’t want you to know that he felt that way about you.

Then you asked about ‘what was going on back home’. Home. Poe asked himself if you meant the university as home, you’d been there for more than six years. Or did you mean him? Your formerly-shared apartment? Was your intention to say you considered the apartment, and him as an extension, as your home?

God, Poe thought. I’m way over thinking it.

But what if she meant that in the same way I meant the flowers? He asked himself. Some kind of idiotic slip of the mind that was only there because of underlying feelings?

Her slip of the tongue wasn’t as bad as his flowers, but it gave him some kind of hope that someday you might actually be a couple, growing your friendship into something more. But he pushed this hope out of his mind as best he could.

After all, they were only friends. Friends only. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just really good friends who know each other's favorite flowers and things that could send them into panic attacks. Friends who lived and studied together for long enough to practically be family.

Home? Just the university they went to. And where he just happened to live, too.

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

Author's Note: So I used this type of flower because they are my personal favorite, but then I decided to look up the 'meaning' behind them... I suggest you do the same... (not intentional, but a really nice coincidence for this)

Also, I'll be updating this again next weekend with posts on Saturday and Sunday. Let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

#meras30daywritingchallenge #poe dameron #fan fiction #flowers #idiots in love #poe dameron x female reader

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crystalninjaphoenix · 4 years ago

Text

Overnight Observation

A Horror Septic Story

(Why do all these stories end up so long? Seriously, they’re always my longest. Anyway, I wanted to return to Stacy and the boys and see what they’re up to. After all, they still have to meet a couple of our local horror shows ;) Remember to check the tags for any warnings, this one has some stuff that’s...sort of gorey? I don’t think it’s too intense but just to be sure, read with caution.)

—————

The world beyond the train windows was dark. It had been nothing but fields for a good while, but now buildings were starting to dot the landscape again, quickly gathering together. Soon they would be in the suburbs, then in a city. Meanwhile, the inside of the train was brightly lit, artificial white light chasing away all the shadows. There were passengers, not enough to cause a crowd but still enough to fill the train. Among these passengers were a young mom wearing a backpack and her two children, all looking tired and travel-worn.

Stacy stared out at the gathering buildings. Occasionally she managed to glimpse a street sign, but couldn’t read the language. Fighting back a yawn, she looked over at Mathew and Larkin, sitting in the seat across from her. Mathew had his head pressed against the window, eyes fixed on the outside. Larkin was leaning on his shoulder, fast asleep. They’d been travelling for a while now. Where were they going? She didn’t exactly know.

There was a slight whooshing sound as the door between train cars slid open. Stacy glanced towards it, just in time for the man who’d just entered to sit down on the seat next to her. Tensing slightly, she turned away. Maybe they shouldn’t have chosen the seats closest to the car door.

“Verzeihung, Fräulein,” the man said. “Können Sie mir sagen, was die nächste Station ist?”

Stacy glanced over at him. There was nothing strange about him at first glance. He wore a dark gray suit and carried a briefcase, his dark hair slicked back and his face unshaven. Surely anyone else wouldn’t have been suspicious. But after everything, she wasn’t about to let her guard down.

“Fräulein? Hast du mich gehört?” The man asked.

Maybe he’d go away if she answered. Stacy took out her phone and opened up the new app she’d downloaded, an English-German dictionary. She’d been trying to learn the language, but wasn’t making a lot of progress. At most, she could identify question words and things like occupations and body parts. You know, things they’d teach in a high school elective. But she plugged in what she thought she heard the man ask.

“Parlez-vous français?” The man continued. “¿O quizás hablas español? O italiano? Or English?”

“English, yes,” Stacy said quietly.

“Ah, English. So sorry.” The man smiled charmingly. “I was wondering if you knew the next stop for the train.”

“Um...it’s a city called Achmatze,” Stacy said slowly.

“Ah, perfect, thank you.” The man nodded. “You are American?”

“Yes.”

The man paused, as if waiting for a more in-depth response. “Well...what has brought you here? A vacation, perhaps? With your children?”

“Yes.”

He frowned. “So...are you passing through or stopping here?”

“Through.”

The man stared at her. She stared back. His eyes...was it just her being paranoid, or were they an odd color? She was suddenly very aware of the holster and handgun hidden beneath her jacket. Eventually, the man turned away. “You are a very special young lady,” he said under his breath.

Stacy didn’t respond, turning her attention back out the window. They were now solidly surrounded by buildings, and the train had slowed down considerably.

A few minutes later, it slowed to a stop, pulling into a station. The intercom announced this stop as the city of Achmatze. The man in the gray suit stood up and disappeared through the doors of the train car. Once he was gone, Stacy leaned over and began shaking Larkin. “Hey, Lark. Wake up, pumpkin.”

“Hmmm whha?” Larkin blinked, and stretched. “Wha’s it, Mom?”

“We’re going to get off here,” Stacy said gently.

Mathew finally broke contact with the window, looking over at Stacy. “I thought you told that guy we were passing through.”

“Well, I don’t think we should advertise where we’re really going, you know?” Internally, Stacy sighed. She wished that this wasn’t necessary, but she couldn’t help it. There was this feeling...this lingering voice told her to keep moving. Of course, that voice sounded a bit like John’s. Though they’d ended up leaving him behind, she knew how he would react in this situation. “So let’s go.”

They stepped out into the train station, a futuristic building with glass and steel going in an arch overhead as if they were inside a glass-and-steel tube. It was pretty empty, except for the departing passengers. Stacy glanced around, and saw the man in the gray suit had gotten off here, too. She stiffened, then grabbed Mathew and Larkin by the hands and steered them quickly out of the building.

Strangely, it looked more busy outside than inside. Stacy had to stop for a moment to take in the line of cars, each with one or more person standing outside and holding a sign, calling out. But the signs didn’t have names on them like she’d always pictured a rental car would have. These looked like business names, and the shouts of the people reminded her of someone trying to sell something. That was...odd. But maybe it was a cultural thing. “C’mon, guys,” she said, starting down the street. They had to find a place to stay.

Of course, once the people outside the cars saw her, the shouting only increased. It didn’t do any good, of course, since she didn’t know any of the words. Shaking her head, she continued on.

“Excuse me, miss! Miss! Are you new in town? Do you need a bed in the night?”

Stacy stopped, recognizing English. The shouter of this appeared to be a teenager, dark-haired and wearing glasses, standing outside a blue car and holding a sign reading “Süße Träume Hotel.” The moment he noticed he’d caught her attention, he doubled down. “Yes, you Miss! With the two children? We have good prices!”

“Um...so, are all these businesses for hotels?” Stacy asked.

“Yes, yes,” the teenager said. “We all offer deals to those new in town here. Ours is the first night free!”

Stacy hesitated. That...was tempting. Her savings were quickly running out, and it was clear the boys really needed a place to sleep quickly. “What do you two think?” she asked, looking at Mathew and Larkin.

“He’s nice,” Larkin mumbled, swaying on his feet.

“I guess it’s fine,” Mathew said reluctantly. “This is a bit weird, though.”

“It might just be a thing here,” Stacy said. She looked back at the teenager. “Alright, we’ll take that offer.”

“Good! Good good.” He nodded excitedly, then reached over to open the car door. “We will take you there soon! After we see if there is anyone else who wants this.”

“Mooom,” Mathew said in a low voice. “Isn’t this kind of sketchy?”

Stacy hesitated. “Well, if it was, why would there be so many people doing it, and nobody saying anything?” She squeezed Mathew’s hand. “Besides, we can handle anything they throw at us.”

“Well...okay,” Mathew took a deep breath. “Alright.”

Stacy gave him an encouraging smile, then climbed into the car.

It was actually very nice inside. The interior was clean, with a plastic window dividing the back from the driver’s area. In the front was an older lady, who looked back through the plastic and waved cheerfully. Stacy relaxed just a bit. This didn’t feel strange. Or at least, she didn’t get the same off feeling that the man in the gray suit had given her on the train.

A few minutes later, they were joined by a pair of younger women, talking to each other in what sounded like French, and then the teenage boy climbed into the passenger seat. The older woman started the car, and they drove off.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Süße Träume Hotel was also a nice-looking place. It was a building, about six or seven stories tall, surrounded by other similar buildings some ways into the city. The lobby was professional, with its color scheme being mostly blue. Once the car dropped off its passengers the teenage boy ran inside and got behind the front desk, shouting something that caused a teenage girl to appear from a back room. The girl quickly checked in the young women, then smiled at Stacy at the boys, gesturing for them to come talk to her at the desk.

Stacy paused, taking a moment to glance around the hotel lobby again. It really seemed perfectly normal, but she couldn’t fully trust anything anymore. Still, she stepped forward to the desk. After some fumbling with languages, they got checked in, and immediately headed to a room on the fourth floor.

And the hotel room was nice, too. Two beds with tidy sheets, a dresser with a television on top, and a clean bedroom. Stacy sighed and took off her backpack, unzipping it and dumping the contents on the nearest bed: a brush, toothpaste and toothbrushes, deodorant, a spare phone charger, and as many spare clothes as could fit in the remaining space, including pyjamas. “Alright, let’s get settled in,” she said, forcing a cheerful note into her voice.

Mathew and Larkin fell asleep quickly, but she stayed up for a while longer, staring around the hotel room and waiting for something to appear.

* * * * * * * * * *

The hotel served complimentary breakfast until nine o’clock, so Stacy and the boys woke up at eight and went down to the lobby to get food. Breakfast wasn’t anything extraordinary and they finished quickly. But the way back was different.

The two young women from last night were waiting at the elevator when Stacy and the boys arrived. One of them, short and blonde, waved at Stacy upon seeing her approach. “Hallo,” she said. “Er...Sprechen Sie Franzo—F-Franzö...sisch?”

Stacy blinked. “Um, I’m sorry, but—”

“Oh, English, much better!” The other woman said, taller and redheaded. “You were the family at the train last night?” Her French accent was thick, but not unrecognizable.

“Oh, um, yes.”

“Then we have a question to ask you. Those cars outside the station...is that normal?”

“Well...not where I’m from,” Stacy said. “And we’ve never been in this country before, so I wouldn’t know.”

“I see.” The taller woman looked at her friend and translated Stacy’s words into French.

At that moment, the elevator arrived. All of them hurried inside, with Stacy and the boys squishing towards the back. Larkin pressed the button for the fourth floor, giving Mathew a smug look as he did so, while the shorter woman pressed the one for the first. Once the elevator started moving, the taller woman started talking again. “It just seemed a bit odd, to have them all lined up. And last night, did the, er...the woman at the desk downstairs tell you to not go outside at night?”

“She...she did.” That had been weird. Weird enough to take note of.

“Very odd,” the taller woman said. “What did you think of that?”

Stacy considered this question. After a long while, she replied, “I think we should listen to the locals.”

The taller woman giggled, making her friend giggle in turn. The elevator stopped at the first floor, and the two women headed out. “Thank you, madam,” the taller one said as they left.

“Oh, uh, you’re welcome.” Stacy nodded.

“Hey Mom?” Mathew leaned closer to Stacy, perhaps unconsciously. “Do you think that...things are weird here because of...not normal reasons?”

Stacy frowned. Her instinct was to reassure him, but in this situation, perhaps honesty would be best. “I’m not sure,” she said slowly. “But we’ll be on our way soon.”

* * * * * * * * * *

They couldn’t spend all their time in the hotel room. At the very least, they had to go out to get food. So that day, Stacy, Mathew, and Larkin went out to explore the city of Achmatze. She considered leaving them alone in the room, but reconsidered. If something happened to them while she wasn’t there...

The city was normal enough. It was the biggest city any of them had been to in a while, so it took some getting used to, but it wasn’t too big. Stacy found a couple restaurants, a grocery store, and several shops all within walking distance on her phone’s GPS. There were lots of tall buildings, but not that many skyscrapers, which Stacy remembered as being described as having about fifteen stories or more. The architecture leaned towards older styles, and there were a few buses driving around that Stacy realized were full of visitors. Perhaps this place was culturally important, somehow. But then...that made the warning about going out at night even stranger. Wouldn’t a city with tourists want to have a rich nightlife?

Things got even stranger when they had to stop for lunch. Mathew and Larkin had been complaining about being hungry and needing a break for a while, so Stacy stopped by the nearest restaurant, some local place. Upon entering, they were immediately seated by a waiter, who thankfully spoke English.

“You are visitors, yes?” The waiter asked.

“Well, yes. I suppose it’s obvious.” Stacy tried to laugh a little at that comment.

“Very good. We sell many good local foods. Though I must warn you, it is dangerous to go out into the city alone at night.”

“Oh.” Stacy was taken aback for a moment. This was one of the first things this waiter told them. Why? Was it that important? “Well, we’ll keep that in mind, thank you.”

After having lunch, they returned to the hotel, deciding to order room service for dinner. It was getting hot in the afternoon, the heat probably helped along by the city’s dark asphalt streets. Once they returned, they were greeted by a different receptionist, an older man. “Hallo, willkommen!”

“Hello.” Stacy waved amicably.

“Ah, I see. Coming in from a day out? Very good. But be careful not to stay out after dark, especially alone.”

“Oh. Yeah, uh, we’ve been told.” This was the third warning. And Stacy knew what they said about third times and charms.

The sun lingered in the sky, shining into their window for a while. Larkin and Mathew set up Netflix on Mathew’s phone, watching cartoons together. And Stacy searched up train times on her own phone. Unfortunately, there appeared to be a limited number of train tickets available for purchase, with the soonest being tomorrow at 7:00pm.

Stacy frowned. The sun would be down at that point, wouldn’t it? Didn’t that go against the warnings? She glanced back over at Mathew and Larkin, laying on the bed next to each other, the phone propped up with a couple pillows. Larkin’s head was on top of Mathew’s shoulder, but he clearly didn’t mind.

No, it would be better to get out of this town sooner. She just knew it. Besides, the sun would have barely set at that point. Maybe it wouldn’t count. And they’d hurry.

She bought the tickets.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, Stacy sat at a table in the hotel’s complimentary dining room, staring down blankly at the cinnamon roll she’d grabbed from the breakfast buffet. Mathew and Larkin were still there, deciding what to get that morning. They were well within eyeshot, so she wasn’t worried. Or at least, not too worried. The dining room was fairly empty, mostly dotted with hotel employees and other guests in pyjamas—

“Well hallo again! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Stacy stiffened, and looked up. It was the man from the train. The man in the dark gray suit. Somehow, he’d walked right up to her without her noticing. Immediately, she stiffened, not feeling as tired as she’d been just a second ago. “H...hello,” she said.

The man bowed his head to her for a moment, then looked up again with a friendly smile. “I thought you said you were passing through this city.”

“Things come up,” she said vaguely, glancing back in the boys’ direction. “I didn’t know you would be here, either,” she mumbled.

“Ah, well, this was always my destination,” the man said. “I came here for business.”

“Business?” Stacy glanced back towards him. Wait...were his eyes yellow, or was it just the lighting in here?”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “I came on behalf of my...company. We have been hoping to establish a hold in this city, but our competition is being very stubborn. Understandable, it’s been here for a while, but we are so much stronger, and a much better suit for this area. I hope to conclude business here.”

“Right.”

At that moment, Mathew and Larkin walked back to the table, plates full of various breakfast foods. “Hi Mom,” Mathew said, eyes immediately darting to the man. “Uh...who are you?”

The man in the gray suit didn’t answer at first, staring at Larkin. And Larkin stared back, eyes wide, gaping. “It’s not important,” the man finally said, taking a step back. He nodded in Stacy’s direction. “You have a very...perceptive son. My congratulations.” And with nothing else to say, he turned and walked away. Stacy turned to watch as he left the dining room, then leaned in her chair until she got the exact right angle to see him leave the hotel through one of the side doors.

“Was that...Mom, was that...?” Mathew seemed to have caught on, and looked a bit pale.

“I’m not sure, Mat,” Stacy said. “Larkin, what did you think about that man?”

Larkin was much more relaxed now that the man was gone, sitting down on the nearest chair and carefully opening his carton of milk. “I think...he was a vampire,” Larkin said. “O-or maybe a werewolf.” He paused, looking up at Stacy. “Is he going to follow us?” His voice suddenly dropped, turning fearful.

“No, I don’t think so,” Stacy said. She didn’t think this man was connected to the thing in the house that had started this all. Though he was the first thing she saw that was...strange like this, but not related to that first incident.

“Alright.” Larkin nodded, relieved, and started eating.

Mathew slowly sat down as well. Stacy hadn’t told him what Roisin, the old woman back in Ireland, told her about Larkin. How he could see through the disguises these things put up. But Mathew was smart enough to realize his little brother knew more about what was going on than he appeared to.

“So.” Stacy said. “We’re ready to leave today?” It was now clearer than ever that they needed to leave this city.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Hey Mom?”

Stacy looked up from her phone. Mathew was standing next to the bed where she was laying, staring at her. “Yeah, pumpkin?”

“What time’s the train again?” he asked.

“It’s at seven.”

“Oh. Uh, it’s getting dark.” Mathew’s eyes darted towards the window. It was already twilight blue outside. “Hasn’t everyone been saying not to go out at night?”

“Well...yes,” Stacy said slowly.

“Why don’t we just go now?” Mathew suggested. “We can get there early and wait for the train in the station.”

Stacy blinked. “Oh my god...” How had that not occurred to her? “That’s a great idea, Mat.” She sat up straight, putting her phone away. “We’re all packed already?”

“Yeah, Mom.” Mathew pointed at the backpack, sitting on the other bed where Larkin was using it as a pillow.

“Huh? So we’re leaving now?” Larkin asked.

“Yes, we’ll wait a little at the train stop,” Stacy explained, waiting for Larkin to sit up before she grabbed the backpack. “Are you ready now, Lark?”

“Mm-hmm.” Larkin nodded and hopped off the bed. “Let’s go.”

They headed down to the ground floor, quickly leaving the elevator and entering the lobby. Stacy held onto the boys’ hands tightly as they walked towards the front door.

“Ah! Madam!”

Stacy stiffened, then turned to see the two young women from the day before waving in her direction. Once she noticed them, the taller one grabbed the shorter one’s hand and they ran up to her. “Madam, we wondered if we could ask a favor of you,” the taller one said.

“What kind of favor?” Stacy asked.

“We are going to the train station, could you walk us there?” The taller one smiled, but she looked a little nervous. “It is getting close to night.”

“Oh. Well, we were going there, too, as a matter of fact,” Stacy said. “Sure, we can walk together.”

The woman’s face lit up. “Thank you!” She turned to her friend and spoke rapidly in French, who responded even faster, then she turned back. “We should introduce ourselves. I am Desiree, and this is my friend Soleil.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Stacy, and these are my kids, Mathew and Larkin.”

“Hi!” Larkin waved cheerfully, but Mathew stayed quiet.

“Charmed,” Desiree said. “Now, shall we?”

With the extra two people boosting the numbers of the group, Stacy felt a bit more confident. Still, it was some way to the train station, so they all hurried through the streets. Through the tall buildings, the sun was visibly setting, causing lines of orange and pink clouds in the dark blue sky.

Strangely, they identified the train station by the line of cars. It seemed the queue from the day before wasn’t just a one-time thing. The line wasn’t as long as it had been, but there were still quite a lot of people standing outside cars with their signs. Yet, other than those people, there was no one around. Nobody was walking in and out of the train station building as would be expected. Then again, when they’d left the station upon arriving in Achmatze, it still hadn’t been that busy. Perhaps this wasn’t that popular a destination? But no, that wouldn’t explain the tourist buses that had been driving around.

Desiree and Soliel chattered to each other as the group climbed the steps to the station. Mathew and Larkin were silent, and Larkin in particular stared at the tall steel-and-glass station with wide eyes. The doors were closed, which was...odd. They hadn’t been closed the day before. Stacy reached for the door, and upon finding it unlocked, pulled it open, slowly, hesitantly, and peeked inside—

The smell hit her first, but the shocking sight wasn’t too far behind. Stacy could only gape at the scene spread out in the middle of the train station floor. The moment she regained her senses, she screamed, and whirled around to push Mathew and Larkin out of the way.

“What is it?” Desiree asked.

Soliel peeked through the doors, and immediately paled. “Est-ce un—un corps?!”

“Someone call the police!” Stacy yelled.

Desiree, now white as a sheet as well, nodded, and took out her phone.

“Mom? Is everything okay?” Mathew asked, staring up at Stacy with a look of concern.

Stacy couldn’t respond. What was she supposed to say? That sight...the floor was coated in red, but that was the least of it. The body was at the center of a circle of thick blood, and it had been...split open, was the only way Stacy could think to describe it. From chest to stomach, there was a large slit, with everything that was supposed to be inside spilling out onto the floor. She wished to forget it, but the sight was seared into her mind.

Larkin, curious, pushed past Stacy to try and look inside. She caught on just in time, and pulled him back. “Don—don’t look!” she said. “You shouldn’t see something like that!”

“Wh...” Larkin looked dazed, shocked. Upon seeing that expression, Stacy knew he’d caught a glimpse of it.

“Lark? Are you okay?” she said in a gentle voice. “Can you hear me?”

“I...” Larkin nodded slowly. “...Mom. Did...did someone kill that vampire guy?”

“That—” Stacy cut herself off, eyes widening in realization. Yes, she’d been too shocked to take it in at the time, but looking back on it now...that was the body of the man in the gray suit.

The police appeared soon after the sun went fully behind the horizon. Only two officers, arriving in a single car. As she watched them climb out, Stacy was suddenly very conscious of the holster and handgun under her jacket. Was that illegal in this country?

One of the officers approached her and immediately started asking questions. Confused, Stacy took out her phone and tried to look up phrases on her dictionary app, but the officer switched languages as soon as she did. “What happened here, miss? Did you see anything?”

“Oh.” Stacy looked up. “Well, I—I opened the door here—thought it was weird that it was closed, but anyway—I opened it, and...there was a body there.”

“Hmm.” The officer nodded and approached the door, throwing it open. Stacy tried to say something, but those protests died down once she noticed the expression on the officer’s face. It was strangely...bored. No, just uninterested, as if she’d seen this before. “Alright, thank you,” the officer said. “Did you know the man?”

“Well, I’d seen him before, but no, not really,” Stacy explained.

The officer nodded again. She said something to her partner, who quickly slipped inside the station, then turned her attention to Desiree and Soliel. “You were here, too?”

“Yes,” Desiree said, and Soliel nodded as well. “We all walked here together.”

“Did any of you see anything unusual?”

No answer for that, but then Soliel raised her hand. “Ich habe ein...einen Mann. Gesehen. Ich habe einen Mann gesehen.”

The officer raised an eyebrow. “Wie sah er aus?”

Soliel looked a bit at a loss, then turned to Desiree and said something in French. Desiree nodded, then translated the phrase into German for the officer, who suddenly looked more concerned. The officer took out a notebook and began writing this down.

“Um...excuse me, what did she say?” Stacy asked. She could recognize “man” and “hair” and “jacket,” but not much else.

“Soliel saw a strange, suspicious man when we were walking up to the station,” Desiree explained. “A man wearing a green jacket, with brown hair and a...er...cache-oeil, un, er...eye patch! Over his face. Did you see that man? I did not.”

“No, I didn’t see anyone like that.” That description didn’t sound familiar to Stacy. She looked back at the boys, who had decided to sit down on the steps to the station. “Did either of you see a man like that?”

Mathew shook his head, and Larkin said, “No, Mom.”

“Il était là,” Soleil insisted. “Etrange d'attendre ici, juste avant que nous trouvions cela.”

While Desiree said something reassuring in French to her friend, Stacy turned her attention back to the doors of the station. She reached into her pocket and checked the time on her phone. Almost seven. The train was supposed to be arriving soon, could they just leave?

At that moment, the other police officer returned from inside the building. “Oh! Excuse me sir!” Stacy waved him down. “I was wondering something.”

The officer looked at her, confused, then pointed at his partner, who looked up in response. “Do you have a question?” she asked, as the other officer returned to their car.

“Oh. Well, yes.” Stacy nodded. “You see, we have tickets for a train arriving soon, are we allowed to leave?”

“Yes, yes, of course. But I suggest you ask the ticket attendant inside if the train will still leave at the right time. This may have caused a delay.”

“Alright. Thank you.” Stacy walked over to Mathew and Larkin, still sitting on the stairs, crouching so she can be level with them. “How are you doing, pumpkins?”

“I think we’re fine,” Mathew said.

“Lark?”

Larkin looked up. “Mm-hmm.” He still looked a bit troubled, but better than he had earlier.

“Alright.” Stacy let out a long breath. “Well, I’m going to go ask if the train will still leave at the time. Apparently there’s an attendant in the station who can help. You two sit tight, okay?” After making sure they both nodded, she stood up. “I’ll be right back.” And she headed to the door.

For a long moment, she paused outside. What was inside...was she really ready to see that again? Well, she was going to have to, wasn’t she? Maybe she could avoid looking in the body’s direction. So, steeling herself, she pushed open the door and headed in.

She gagged on the thick copper smell in the air, then immediately looked away. Inching around the pool in the center of the floor, she headed towards the ticket booth. Well, it was more of a building in and of itself, a small room walled in with a window through which passengers could get tickets from the attendant. There was a door through which employees could get into the booth.

But strangely, upon arriving at the booth, Stacy couldn’t see anyone inside. She peered around, noticing a desk with a computer and a couple tables, but no people. Odd...maybe that was because of...?

She couldn’t help but turn around and look at the body, though she immediately winced upon seeing it. God, this was terrible. Raising her hand to cover the majority of the gore from her vision, she headed back towards the door.

Wait.

Stacy stopped in her tracks, noticing something on the floor near the puddle. She really didn’t want to get closer to it, but her curiosity overcame her, and she shuffled closer. It looked like some scribbling, but she quickly realized that it was actually writing. A phrase in blood. Stepping even closer, she leaned down to make out the words.

‘Das ist meine Stadt.’ What did that mean? ‘This is mine...’ something? Stacy furrowed her brow. That word was just on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t quite reach it.

She heard the footsteps too late.

Eyes widening, she tried to turn around, but a pair of arms grabbed her before she could. “Hey! Hel—” A hand covered her mouth. She tried to struggle, tried to see if she could reach her gun under her jacket. But then a needle of pain pierced her neck, and her vision soon faded to black.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Mom’s been in there for a while.”

Mathew looked down at Larkin, who was staring at the doors to the train station. “Yeah, I guess. But I mean, maybe the conversation is taking a while.”

Larkin didn’t respond. Then, suddenly, he stood up. “I think we should go talk to her.”

“Huh? But isn’t there a...uh...” Mathew trailed off. Was it appropriate to ask his nine-year-old brother about the dead body he’d caught a glimpse of? He really didn’t think it would be a good idea for him to see it again. “We can just wait. Here, you wanna play a game on my phone or something?”

“You have boring games.” And with that, Larkin headed towards the door.

“Hey! God, Lark, don’t!” Mathew scrambled to his feet, hurrying after Larkin but not quite reaching him before he went inside the building. He glanced back at the two police officers and the young women, all of them talking with each other, before following Larkin into the building.

Shortly after stepping inside, Mathew froze in place. That was...there was...blood...and...insides. He’d seen fake bodies in movies before, which his mom didn’t actually know he’d watched, but it was different knowing that this was not an effect. Nausea rolled in his stomach, but he swallowed it down and managed to tear his eyes away. Larkin, on the other hand, was still looking at the body. “Don’t!” Mathew lunged forward and covered Larkin’s eyes with his hand. “No no no no, don’t look at that, that—that’s—holy shit.”

“I already saw it,” Larkin said. He sounded a bit too calm about the situation. Well, then again, he could be in denial. “It’s gross.”

“It’s very very gross, yes.” Mathew nodded.

“But it’s just a dog.”

“It’s—huh?” Mathew glanced back towards the body, trying to avoid looking at any of the grosser stuff. “I...you’re right.” The body in the middle of the pool was a large gray wolf with yellow eyes. It was the size of a human, and the proportions were a bit...weird. Those eyes were a bit too big, the limbs a bit too long. But it was unmistakably an animal. “...That doesn’t make sense. They’ve all been talking about a body. Like, a human body.”

“Maybe it changed.” Larkin pushed Mathew’s hand away from his face and walked some way away, scanning the train station. “Uh...Mat, where is everyone?”

“I...don’t know.” The train station was completely empty, which was weird. Even if there weren’t passengers, there should be people who worked here, right? Actually...if there had been people here, why had none of them reported the dead body before Stacy saw it? Where were they?

“Do you think...something happened to them?” Larkin asked in a hushed voice.

Now that was a scared tone that Mathew could recognize. He walked up to Larkin and wrapped his arms around him. “No, maybe they’re just not...maybe they’re in, like, employees only rooms. Like, uh, there.” Mathew pointed towards the ticket booth. “Let’s go check that out.”

Larkin nodded, and the two of them hurried over to the booth, carefully avoiding the pool of blood. Mathew reached out and turned the handle of the booth’s door, surprised to find it open. He pulled, and...

“Wh...what. The fuck.”

The door led into a hallway. A hallway with white walls and white-tiled floors, extending for a long, long time before it split into two directions. It looked completely unlike the rest of the train station. Mathew stared into the hall, not moving. “Is this...supposed to be here?”

Larkin walked over to the ticket booth’s window, carefully peering into the room beyond. “There’s no hallway inside,” he said.

“Huh?” Mathew leaned over to look through the window as well. “Oh yeah. This door should lead into this room.” He pressed his face against the glass, trying to get the right angle to see the door from the other side of the room. It was...closed. “Tha-that doesn’t match up.”

“Mat?” Larkin pulled on his brother’s hoodie. “I don’t see Mom anywhere here. Do you think...she went down...there?”

Mathew knows the answer, but he doesn’t want to say it. “This...this is more supernatural shit.”

“Hey, bad word.”

“This isn’t the time, Lark. Let me swear.”

The two of them stood in front of the door. The hallway was undoubtedly there, extending before them like a tunnel that led deep into the unknown depths of the earth. After what felt like several minutes, but was probably only several seconds, Mathew took a deep breath. “Do you think we should go in after her?”

Larkin looked reluctant, but nodded. “Y-yeah. The grown-ups aren’t gonna see this, I think.”

“You don’t have to. You can wait out here—”

“No!” Larkin grabbed Mathew’s hand, squeezing it tight. “I-I want to come with you.”

Mathew looked at him. “Right.” He didn’t want to go in there. But...their mom was in there. She probably needed help. And Larkin was right, he had this strange feeling that if they left, the hallway would be gone by the time they came back. “Let’s uh...go.” He gripped Larkin’s hand even tighter, and together, the two of them stepped through the doorway into the halls.

The moment they passed through, the door started to close, slowly. Neither of them noticed, focused on the journey ahead. Meaning they also didn’t notice the man—a man in a green jacket, with brown hair and an eye-patch—slinking into the train station through the front door. The man stared at the body and the mess that surrounded it, completely unfazed, then looked up and saw the slowly closing door. He ran towards it, grabbing it just before it closed. Then he pushed it open and slipped inside.

The door closed behind him, and the next time it opened, the hallway would be gone.

* * * * * * * * * *

Stacy woke up slowly, head spinning and mixing the thoughts inside. Groaning, she tried to roll over, only to find herself unable to. It took a moment for that to register as a cause for alarm, but once it did, her eyes flew open.

This looked like a hospital room, but only at first glance. The white walls had dark red-brown stains on them and there were no windows to be seen. Stacy could see a curtain, the sort of which would be pulled around a patient’s bed in a hospital, nearby. It was also stained, and had a hole in it like someone had stabbed it. There was also a small metal table nearby, on which she could see her jacket, as well as her gun in its holster. She was lying on what would be a typical hospital bed, except that it lacked any blankets and was fitted with straps. Straps that were currently holding her down, across her wrists, ankles, and chest.

“Shit.” Stacy cursed under her breath, then, strangely, laughed. “Haven’t I been through enough?! Do you hear me, whatever you are? I know you’re here! The fuck do you want?!”

There was no answer, of course. Stacy looked around the room again, but it was just as barren as ever. The door looked like a normal white one, but she didn’t expect it to be unlocked.

Taking a deep breath, she decided that the first step would be getting herself untied. Then she’d grab her gun, maybe try to break down the door, and find her way out of...wherever she was. And find the kids, too. Where were they? Were they also in this place?

One way to find out. The straps were tight, but if she could just...just wriggle her way out...then everything would be fine.

* * * * * * * * *

“This place is like a maze,” Mathew muttered.

The white walls of the corridors were all the same, save for the patterns of stains on their surfaces. They branched off at random, sometimes coming to an intersection, sometimes on jutting off the side of a main hall. There were doors, too, white in color, with some having plates on the outside with numbers or words that weren’t in English. Larkin reached out and tried one of them, jiggling the handle but being unable to open it.

“They’re all locked, Lark, don’t bother,” Mathew said.

“One might be open,” Larkin said. “But...what if Mom’s in a locked room?”

Mathew felt his heart sink, but he shook his head to get rid of the feeling. “Then we’ll bust it open. They don’t look too strong.”

They approached a corner where the hallway turned, silent except for the sound of their footsteps. And another sound, a bit distant, a sort of...wailing. Mathew tried not to think about that too much. Instead, he looked at the things clustered in the corner. Some poles, it looked like, on wheels. A few had bags hanging from them.

“Aren’t these those, uh...IV things?” Larkin asked, reaching out to push one.

“Yeah, but I don’t think the bags are supposed to have that in them.” Mathew pointed at one of the bags, filled with a semi-transparent blue liquid. “Usually they’re full of blood or clear liquid what...what is that?”

“Maybe it’s poison?” Larkin suggested in a quiet voice.

Mathew shuddered. “Well, it’s not good, definitely.” He stepped away from the IVs, pulling Larkin by the hand as well. “Do you think we should, maybe, start calling for Mom? Like, shout her name?”

“What if—”

Clunk.

Both boys stiffened, leaning closer to each other. That metallic sound had come from nearby...behind one of the doors.

Ca-chunk.

Mathew recognized it that time: it was the sound of something unlocking. Panic surged through his veins. He was sure that whatever had the ability to unlock the doors in this place wouldn’t be friendly to them. His head darted around, but saw nowhere to go. Except for the doors. Well, better than nothing. He ran towards the nearest one, dragging Larkin, and tried the doorknob. Surprisingly, this one turned. He threw open the door and shoved Larkin inside, just as he heard the sound of a different door creaking open as well. He ducked into the room and closed the door behind them, only then allowing himself to breath.

“Told you one would be unlocked,” Larkin said, the shaking in his voice betraying his fear.

“Yeah, haha, you told me so.” Mathew looked around this room. White walls, just like the hallways. Metal tables with stained blue tablecloths sat in rows, a few trays on wheels clustered near the ends. On top of the tables were clusters of metal...instruments? Tools? Things that looked like they would be used in a surgery in a hospital where they didn’t care if the patients actually survived...which, Mathew realized, might actually be what this place was. There were more tools on the walls, though most of these looked more like knives and swords.

There were footsteps in the hallway outside. They stopped outside the door to the room.

This time Larkin acted first. He ran towards the nearest table, yanking Mathew along with him, and then dove underneath. Mathew quickly caught on, scrambling under the table as well, making sure the cloth returned to its proper place. Then the door opened.

Mathew stopped breathing for a moment, reaching out to grab Larkin and hold him close. The tablecloths didn’t go all the way to the floor, leaving the boys with a good view of the source of the footsteps. A pair of shoes and legs, which wasn’t too unusual. Except for the fabric being oddly stitched together, and the shoes being covered in more of those red-brown stains. There was also the ragged hem of a white coat, which...didn’t look like it was made out of regular fabric.

The legs stopped at the table the boys were hiding under. Larkin glanced over at Mathew with wide eyes, who shook his head slightly and pressed a finger to his lips.

More sounds. Metallic. The thing in the coat was probably looking over the tools on the table. It showed no signs of moving for a good while. Mathew held Larkin closer, feeling his pulse clash with the pace of his own heartbeat. Would it notice? Would they have to run? Could they run?

Then the legs turned and walked away. One of the trays on wheels clattered across the floor, being dragged back to the original spot. More metallic sounds, as some tools were transferred over to the tray. And then the thing left, taking the tray with it. The door opened and closed, and there was silence.

For a while, the two boys stayed under the table, slowly breathing. And then Larkin let out a soft, sad sort of gasp, the type that’s trying to be a sob but doesn’t quite get there. And Mathew murmured, “It’s fine, it’s gone, we’re okay, we got this” over and over again.

“W-we...we really need to find Mom,” Larkin said shakily.

“Yeah. Yeah, we do.” Mathew tried to keep any doubt out of his voice. The sort of doubt that gnawed at you and asked, What if you can’t? “C’mon. Let’s go.”

They climbed out from under the table. Larkin started heading towards the door, but Mathew said, “Wait.” He was looking at the tools hanging on the walls. Slowly, he reached out and carefully took one of the knife-looking ones. Just in case. “Alright. Let’s go.”

* * * * * * * * *

When the door opened, Stacy froze. Then she intensified her struggles against the straps. She was sure she was close to getting one arm free, if she could only hurry, if she only had more time—

“Oh, well that’s not good.”

That was a completely human voice. Not at all what she was expecting. Taken off guard, Stacy craned her head towards the door.

There was a man standing there. Wearing a green jacket over a black hoodie, an eye-patch covering his right eye and bandages around his neck. His hair was brown, with a few streaks of gray, and his visible eye was blue. He looked...well, ‘worse for wear’ would be an understatement, but he was actually fairly young-looking. “You need some help there?” he asked.

Stacy narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”

For a moment, the man looked hurt, but then he just looked tired. He smiled. “Well, I guess it’s not really important right now. What’s important is that I can get you out. Just, uh, give me a second.”

“...fine.” Why did he seem so familiar?

The man walked over to the side of the bed, looking over the straps. “Alright, this should be easy. They’re just buckles.” He started with the ones on her ankles, then her wrists, and finally her chest. “There.”

Stacy immediately sat up, rubbing her wrists. There would probably be marks left from her attempts to escape. “Thanks,” she muttered, looking the man over. “So, uh...do you have a name?”

The man laughed a bit grimly. “At this point, that’s debatable. But you can call me...you can call me John.”

“John?” Stacy looked confused, then her eyes widened with realization. “Oh my god, John!” The memories came back. “It’s you!”

“You remember?!” John gaped, looking surprised.

“Yeah, of course I remember you, I just didn’t recognize you at first.” That was strange. She doubted anyone else in the world looked similar to John, how come she hadn’t been able to connect him to the man she knew? “Thank you. But, uh, how’d you get here? We left you in Ireland.”

“I have my ways,” John chuckled. “Sorry I got a bit lost, but I was trying to find you. Weird, huh? Don’t know why, guess you’ve grown on me.”

“Well, we are kinda similar,” Stacy reasoned. She swung her legs to the side and stood up, stumbling a bit. Seemed that whatever had been used to knock her out was still affecting her. “But still, how’d you get here? The world’s a big place.”

“I actually came here for a different reason,” John said. “It has to do with this thing.”

“This...thing?” Stacy quickly put it together. “There’s another fucking horror monster here.”

“Yeah. And last time I ran into it, it got really, really annoyed with me, so uh. I’m surprised it hasn’t noticed I’m here yet.”

“Maybe it’s been distracted.” Stacy grabbed her jacket and holster from the table, putting the holster on but wrapping the jacket around her waist. “Do you know the way out of here?”

“Right, uh.” John winced. “Bit complicated. First of all, this place is a maze. I think it might actually shift layout. Second of all, we’re not in a building. We’re actually in some sort of pocket dimension, where the entrances back to the real world pop up and disappear randomly. And third of all...well, I probably wouldn’t have come in here. But I saw...the kids. They ran into one of the entrances, a-and I followed them.”

Stacy felt her heart stop. “Mathew and Larkin?”

“They’re in here,” John confirmed.

Stacy closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, fighting back against the deep-seated fear in her heart. “We have to find them. Let’s hurry.”

John nodded. “Let’s hurry.”

They headed out the room and into the branching hallways, walking hurriedly but not running. The sound of their footsteps on the tiles echoed in the corridors. Stacy’s eyes darted to each door, half-expecting something to pop out. “Do you know the way around this place?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“No, not really,” John said, equally quiet. “I’ve only been here once before. And like I said, it might shift around.”

That wasn’t encouraging to hear. “Mathew? Larkin?” Stacy called, raising her voice only slightly above her normal speaking volume.

“Be careful!” John hissed. “You don’t want it to hear you.”

Stacy shut her mouth abruptly. “Right.” Uneasy, she reached under her jacket and pulled out her handgun. She doubted that a bullet would stop whatever was in here. After all, she hit one of these things with a car, and it still recovered enough to chase them out of town. But maybe it would slow it down.

They walked for what felt like forever. There was no way to tell how much time had passed, or where they were in this maze. Everywhere looked the same: walls lined with doors, occasionally finding equipment like IV poles or a gurney when reaching a corner or intersection. Stacy tried to open a few of the doors, but found them all locked. A faint, high sound pierced through the air, a sound that she recognized but didn’t dare to name. So she just shivered, and walked on, as they passed through a four-way intersection and chose to go forward at random.

Suddenly, John reached out a hand to stop her. “Do you hear that?” he asked.

“...no?” Stacy fell silent. “Wait, I think so.” There was a different sound echoing in the halls. It sounded like...footsteps. Where was it coming from?

Her eyes widened as she whirled around. Behind them, the footsteps approached from one of the hallways at the intersection. They came closer, and soon it turned the corner.

It was a human figure, and at first might be mistaken for a doctor. But that impression was quickly pushed aside. Stitches crossed the coat, clothes, and even its skin, most of its face hidden by a blue surgical mask. For a moment Stacy froze, making eye contact with one wide, blue eye. And then there was a shriek.

John grabbed her arm and started pulling. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck it’s pissed!”

Stacy stumbled but quickly started running as well, shoes squeaking on the tile floor. She clutched the handle of her gun, too busy running to look around and shoot.

“Lauf nicht weg!” Its voice screamed. Footsteps pounded against the floor behind them, easily keeping pace. “Komm hierher zurück!”

“Shit!” Stacy pushed herself to run faster, already breathing heavily. The hallway turned a corner and her shoes skidded across the floor, causing her to almost lose her balance as she turned. John pulled her back into place as they kept running. Behind them, there was the sound of something slamming against the wall as the footsteps momentarily faltered, then returned, faster than before.

Where could they go?! This was an endlessly extending hallway, and it was right behind them, so there was no way to stop and open a door. If the doors would even open, which they most likely wouldn’t. All they could do was keep running.

The hallway ended in a three-way intersection, branching off into two other halls. In the center was a cluster of IV poles. John took the left path, and Stacy turned around to push the poles over. They crashed to the floor, and the thing cried out.

“Look!” John pointed to a door, which was just slightly ajar. Stacy nodded, and the two of them pulled it open and ducked inside, closing it tight.

Only a few seconds later, footsteps ran past the door and barrelled down the hall.

Stacy relaxed, but John looked worried. “It knows we’re wandering around now,” he muttered.

At that, she tensed. “Do you think it knows Mathew and Larkin are here?” John hesitated to answer, which sent a shot of worry through her. “We need to find them. Now. I say we stop being cautious and hurry.”

“Well...let’s not abandon it entirely,” John said slowly. “But yeah.”

Stacy slowly opened the door, just enough to glance out and look to the right and left. The thing in the white coat was nowhere to be seen, so she opened it further and stepped out. “C’mon,” she muttered, holding her gun in both hands. This place was big, but it was still limited, right? They had to run into them eventually.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Do you think we could take a break?” Larkin asked.

Mathew looked down at him. “Uh...” In truth, he was starting to get tired as well. They must’ve been walking for an hour at least. But...“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” That thing from before could turn up at any moment.

Larkin sighed. They reached yet another intersection, and paused to look down each of the three paths available to them. “What’s that?” Larkin pointed down the right hallway. Unlike every other hall they’d seen so far, this one had no doors, except for one at the end. That door was steel, blocked with a bar across the entrance.

“Oh. Uh, I don’t know.” Mathew hesitated. “Do you think we should...check it out? It looks dangerous.”

“But like...that’s a door you’d hide something in,” Larkin said. “What if Mom’s in there?”

Mathew was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, we can try it.” He made sure he was holding the blade he’d picked up tightly, then they walked down the hallway towards the door.

Upon reaching the door, Larkin tried to grab the steel bar. He shook it, but it was locked down tight. “Hang on, I’m gonna look at this lock,” Mathew said, leaning down so he could see it better.

The lock was a simple padlock, but it looked like there was a separate one actually in the doorknob. Mathew hummed. He didn’t want to waste their time on this if it turned out their mom wasn’t inside. So he banged on the door. “Hello? Anyone inside?”

Silence. Then, a faint sound. A voice.

“Mom?” Larkin asked, pressing his ear against the door.

“Mom, are you in there?!” Mathew called.

The voice got louder, and clearer. The words were hard to make out, but it was undoubtedly their mom. “Hang on, we’ll unlock the door somehow!” Mathew shouted, then turned his attention back to the locks. How could they get this open without the keys? Could they try to pick the lock? With what? Mathew looked down at the blade. This was long and thin. Maybe...?

He lifted up the blade and poked the end into the padlock. After wiggling it around aimlessly for a bit, he realized that he could actually feel something tapping against the blade inside the lock. It took a few solid minutes for him to angle the blade appropriately, and then he turned it and the padlock came off and fell to the floor with a metallic clang. “Yeah!” Mathew grinned triumphantly, then pulled the steel bar away. It swung on a swivel and hit the wall, allowing him access to the lock in the knob. That one took a few more minutes, actually long enough for Larkin to get tired and sit down. Until finally, there was the cha-chunk sound of it unlocking. “Yes!” Mathew pumped his fist, and Larkin scrambled to his feet. He quickly pushed open the door. “Mom, we’re he—”

The room beyond was dark, but not silent. A heavy whine filled the air, not like a living thing, but more...electronic. Mathew cut himself off, staring into the shadows. Things were moving in there. He could see their eyes. Green, glowing in the darkness. The moment the door opened, frantic shuffling sounds took over the whine, accompanied by some clattering as if things were bumping against metal structures.

Larkin whimpered. “Mat...? I—I don’t think that Mom’s in here.”

Mathew shook his head, stepping back. “...no. I-I don’t think so either. But—but we heard her!”

“Were we tricked?”

That must have been the case. Mathew lifted up the blade, holding it in front of him in trembling hands. “We have to close the door,” he whispered.

The electric whine suddenly grew, increasing in volume until it was piercing. The movement in the shadows turned desperate, things throwing themselves against walls. Then suddenly, something fell to the floor with a loud crash! It banged against the floor, the thing inside it writhing with enough force to pull it into the light. And then, it was clear that the room was full of steel cages, cages just like this. And something inside was starting to wriggle out through a gap in the bars.

“Close the door!” Mathew shrieked, scrambling backwards. Larkin didn’t respond, frozen and staring at the thing flailing on the ground. So Mathew pushed him out of the way, and hurried to grab the heavy steel door and push it closed. But it was slow, too slow, and something managed to squeeze through the gap just before it closed.

The thing was the size of a large dog, but it only vaguely resembled one. Its body was a mismatch of metallic parts and flesh, exposed muscles dripping blood. There was a vague head, with two green eyes, one in front and one in back, as well as a set of metal teeth resembling a bear trap. Two more eyes dangled from its sides, one on the left and one on the right, and six metal legs extended to the ground, one hanging limply as if injured.

For a moment, the boys just stared. And then it lunged. Mathew screamed, and threw the blade towards it, lodging in the creature’s chest and stalling it just long enough for him to grab Larkin and start running.

The creature emitted a loud blast of static, then started bounding after its prey.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Did you hear that?” Stacy stopped walking.

“Hear what?” John glanced around the hallway. “Is it coming?”

“No, it sounded like a scream.”

“Oh. Well...there are a lot of screams in here,” John said reluctantly.

“No. I know this one.” Stacy turned, and noticed a hallway branching off the wall of their current corridor. She broke into a run, heading towards the scream. John soon followed, though it took him a moment to overcome his surprise.

The new hallway twisted and turned several times before emerging into a long, straight passage, a four-way crossroad at the end. Stacy slowed down, unsure where to go from here.

Luckily, she didn’t have to decide. Mathew suddenly came running into the intersection from the right passage, pulling Larkin behind him. He hesitated, looking around and trying to decide where to go, and Stacy cried out. “Mathew! Larkin!”

“Mom?!” Mathew looked towards her, relief mixing with the fear already in his face. He hurried forward, still pulling Larkin, and soon the creature following them came into view. It scrabbled against the tile floor before recovering, turning to continue pursuit.

“What the shit?!” Stacy yelled. That thing was terrifying, but she found herself running forward to meet it. Once she met Mathew and Larkin in the middle of the hall, she pushed them behind her and raised her gun, pulling the trigger as fast as she could.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Four shots. Two missed the creature and hit the walls, one landed in its body, and the last was the perfect lucky shot, hitting it in the eye. The creature let out a loud static shriek and stopped, raising one of its front legs and hitting itself in the head.

“What is that?!” Stacy gasped, hoisting her gun. She turned around, instinctively looking towards John for an answer, but he didn’t even notice her. He was staring, fixed in place, at the creature, his face suddenly white as a sheet.

“We found it in a room,” Mathew explained, holding tight to Larkin, who wasn’t responding. “We—we thought you were inside, but it—it sounded like you.”

“It what?” Stacy was about to ask more, but then there was a crack! The creature’s head spun around, a complete one hundred eighty degrees so that the back was now in front. And with the eye in the back now seeing straight ahead, it let out another static burst and lunged. “Fuck!” Stacy grabbed Mathew and John and broke into a run, dragging everyone back the way they came.

For the second time, Stacy found herself running through the endless maze, taking turns and paths at random, with no time to duck into a door. Her breath tore her lungs ragged, and her mouth started to taste of copper, but she had to keep going. The others started to lag, and Larkin stumbled, but she couldn’t let go of them. She couldn’t let go.

They soon arrived at yet another intersection, this one shaped like a T. Stacy turned left at random, and ran straight into something solid with an oof-inducing thump. Staggering back, she looked up, and made eye contact with the thing in the white coat. Her blood suddenly ran cold.

The group stopped for too long. Mathew shouted, and Stacy whirled around to see the creature jumping right at them. Before she could do anything about it, it landed, knocking John to the ground. He screamed, trying to back up, but the creature was too close, its bear-trap teeth snapping. It was all he could do to push it back.

Something grabbed Stacy’s shoulder, and she gasped as she was turned around to face the thing in the white coat. “Etwas tun!” It shouted.

“Wh—” Stacy blinked. It was...actually talking to her. Directly.

“Du hast eine Waffe, benutze sie!” The thing shook her gently. “Schieß auf die Augen!”

Augen? She knew that word. It meant eyes. Did it want her to attack the creature’s eyes? For less than a second, she wondered why it would want that, but there was no time. She pulled out her gun again and turned around, taking aim. She’d have to be careful; if she missed, she could easily hit John. But if she did nothing, he was a goner for sure!

BANG! BANG! BANG!

It took her three tries to finally hit the eye on the creature’s side, causing it to burst in an explosion of red. It shrieked in static, and turned to look at her.

BANG!

Just one try to hit the eye in its head, and it was scrambling backwards, limbs flailing wildly as it rolled on the ground.

BANG! BANG!

And just two more tries before she finally shot the eye on its other side. It wailed, the sound less electric and more animalistic, and its movements slowed to a stop. Then she blinked, and its body was gone.

Stacy lowered her gun, breathing heavily. She looked at Mathew, standing nearby with his eyes scrunched up and his hands over Larkin’s ears, then at John, pushing himself into a sitting position and clutching his chest. “Is...is everyone alright?” she asked.

Mathew nodded, and slowly lowered his hands. Larkin looked a bit dazed, but nodded as well. John didn’t respond, instead looking down at his hands. Then he looked up and around, as if he couldn’t believe his surroundings were real.

“Warum bist du hier?!”

The moment of relief was ruined. Stacy turned around, quickly putting herself in between the kids and the thing in the white coat. But it wasn’t paying attention to her; instead its focus was directed entirely at John, who was startled back into the present. “Ich habe dir gesagt, du sollst niemals zurückkommen! Warum bist du hier?! Das wäre nicht passiert, wenn du nicht hier wärst!”

John blinked slowly. “I’m not gonna say I’m sorry. I only followed these guys. You shouldn’t have taken them.”

“Ich hatte nicht vor, einen von ihnen zu verletzen,” the thing snapped. “Alles wäre gut, wenn Sie nicht hier wären!”

“I mean, I don’t think they would agree with you.”

“What’s...going on?” Stacy said slowly.

John climbed to his feet. “Well. I’m not supposed to be here, and it’s pissed about that.”

“Du hast versprochen, dass du nicht zurückkommst.” It almost sounded accusatory now. “Du würdest nicht zurückkommen, wenn ich dir diesen Gefallen tun würde.”

“Should...should we be worried?” Stacy asked, glancing back towards the thing. Its expression was hard to read, but the hostility was palpable.

“Well it says it wasn’t going to hurt you,” John said. “Let me guess, this is still related to that thing in the house.”

“Natürlich!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

The thing made a hissing noise. “Ich werde dich auf der anderen Seite der Welt absetzen. Dann wirst du vielleicht für immer verschwinden.”

“Well that’s not very nice,” John said dully.

“You can...speak German?” Mathew asked.

“No,” John said. “For some reason, I can just understand what this thing in particular is saying.”

The thing, apparently giving up on talking to him, turned around and walked away, stopping at the nearest door. It knocked four times on the surface, then opened it up. Slowly, it turned back to look at John, then pointed into the door.

“Oh no way, I’m not leaving them with you,” John walked over to stand in front of Stacy and the boys. “Why can’t you all just leave them alone?”

The thing didn’t answer, just pointed furiously into the doorway.

“Oh, what are you going to do, make me? Did that work out before?” John rolled his visible eye. “You can’t stop me from coming back here—”

Suddenly, the thing lunged forward, grabbing John by his hair and slamming him against the wall. John gasped, then slumped forward, dazed. The thing adjusted its grip to John’s arm and started pulling him towards the open door.

“Hey! Stop!” Stacy shrieked, and holstering her gun, she ran forward, barely grabbing onto John’s other arm right as the thing dragged him through the doorway. It looked up at her, annoyed, but said nothing, yanking on John’s arm. Stacy refused to let go, and ended up falling onto the floor.

She expected the door to lead into another room, but instead, she found herself in another hallway. This one was narrower, and it looked strangely...unreal. The walls and floor looked a bit blurred, as if her vision was fuzzy. Yet looking down at her hands, they were still clear, as were the thing and John, who had regained his senses and was now struggling against the thing’s hold. At the end of the hallway, there was...light. Not artificial light, but sunlight. Stacy gaped at it, then scrambled to her feet.

Mathew and Larkin were standing in the doorway, watching her get up. She looked back at them. “C’mon, pumpkins.” She pointed towards the sunlight. “We’re getting out.” Her voice was a whisper, scared the thing would hear her. The kids looked at each other, then nodded, and stepped into the hall in unison.

John and the thing were getting closer and closer to the sunlight, and John was doing his best to pull away. He wasn’t having much success, as the thing was unaffected by any of his struggles. Stacy took a deep breath, then ran forward, grabbing John’s other arm once again. “I got you!” she said, gritting her teeth.

“Ah! Stacy, be careful!” John gasped, surprised.

The thing made a frustrated noise, then leaned forward to try and push Stacy away. She held on tight to John’s arm, and looked back to the kids. “Go!” she shouted, gesturing with her head towards the sunlight. “We’ll be right there!”

Mathew hesitated, so Larkin took his hand and ran, right past the thing in the white coat, who jumped in surprise, and out into the sunlight. “Nein!” It shouted. It turned around, loosening its grip just a bit, and at that, Stacy yanked on John’s arm and pulled him free. He scrambled to his feet and the two of them broke into a run.

“Stopp!” The thing reached out, the ends of its fingers brushing against John’s jacket as they ran past. Crying out as it failed to grab him, it broke into a run, quickly catching up. John ran out into the sunlight, but Stacy cried out as it caught her by the back of her shirt, yanking her backwards.

“Oh my god! Give up already!” John took both of Stacy’s hands and started pulling. For a moment, it seemed even, but then Stacy felt herself being dragged backwards. She cried out, kicking backwards, but the thing didn’t react.

Then Mathew and Larkin appeared, each grabbing one of their mom’s arms and joining in. With that, the tug-of-war was even again. Stacy gasped, managing to take one step forward.

And with a sudden rrrrrip! the fabric of her shirt tore off, and she fell onto the ground outside. The thing screamed out, but it was soon cut off, as whatever entrance it had created suddenly closed.

Stacy panted, and rolled over, blinking up at a blue sky. She was lying on a patch of yellowish grass, the nearby area covered in dirt, scrubby bushes, and more patches. Nearby, a black asphalt highway stretched across the ground and disappeared into the distance, cars passing by every twenty seconds or so. The only other landmark nearby was a road sign and a strange, empty wooden doorway, perhaps the remains of an old building lost to the weather.

“Mom?”

Mathew and Larkin appeared in her vision, leaning down over her. The wave of relief that followed was so intense that she had to laugh. “Oh...oh, you two. My pumpkins.” She smiled. “Are you alright?”

“For right now, yeah,” Mathew said. “Are you?”

“Of course I am.” She sat up, shivering a bit as a breeze played against the new hole in the back of her shirt. Looking around, her eyes landed on the road sign. Blue, with white text reading Rest Stop: 10 Miles. “Miles?” She repeated. “We...we’re in America. How’d we get here?”

“It connected an entrance here.” John, standing nearby, folded his arms. “It can move the maze entrances wherever, you know. I, uh, kind of wondered if I could somehow use that to catch up with you guys, but you were already there. Still, the States, that’s a long way to go. No wonder the entrance only lasted about a minute.”

Stacy stood up as well. “Hey, uh. Thanks for showing up.”

John shrugged, and grinned. “No problem. I guess I’ve gotten attached.” For just a moment, his expression fell, and fear flickered across his face. But he quickly covered it up.

“Mom?” Larkin tugged on Stacy’s jacket. “Where are we?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, Lark. But...well, maybe if we go to that rest stop the sign mentions, we could find out. It’ll be a long way to walk, are you up for that?”

Larkin bit his lip, then nodded. “Carry me?”

Stacy laughed. “You’re a bit big, but sure. Just this once.”

So with the midday sun bearing down, the group started walking in silence. Everything was still uncertain. And nobody could forget the new memories they’d made anytime soon. But the only thing to do was keep moving. They’d find a place to rest soon.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #jacksepticeye au #septic egos au #dr schneeplestein #brigid writes fanfiction #horrorseptics #body horror tw #gore #minor gore #horror tw

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crownjimin · 4 years ago

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✰ 076 | not such a bad idea, part one.

la vie en rose ━ in which lee aera, a girl who has been crushing on choi soobin for a long, long time, is starting her junior year and her friends decide that its time for her to make her move.

A/N: this is part one, part two is being uploaded right after this one! they are a combined 5k so it took a bit longer for me to do.

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Saturday came a lot faster than Aera had anticipated. It seemed like the week stretched on and on, with the thought of Sakura going to her house looming over her head everyday of the week. Anytime Aera would see Sakura in the halls, her heart would spike, and even though Aera knew that Sakura wouldn’t do anything to her in front of other people, it still didn’t help to ease the nerves from the fact that the peach haired girl was still going to be at her house on Saturday.

She ended up telling Sooyung about what was taking place on Saturday, since she never responded in the group chat to any of the messages. And Sooyung, in her true protective fashion, offered to go to Aera’s house even though Jiah wasn’t going to be there also. Aera quickly talked Sooyung out of it, assuring her that Sanha and Soobin were going to tag along and so were their partners, so Aera was more than secure at the moment.

But that was when Saturday was a far distant memory, but now the day is here.

Her older brother, Jaesang, made sure that he had plans so he wouldn’t interrupt Aera and her friends. While both of her parents were putting themselves to work in the kitchen, cooking up something that Aera didn’t bother to ask about. When she had told them that she invited a few friends over for a project, her parent’s first question was if it was Sooyung, Jiah, and Haeun. And once Aera told them no, that it was new, different friends, they burst into shouts of joy, planning recipes for snacks and starting to tidy up the house.

Her parents didn’t have anything against Aera’s usual trio of friends, but seeing their daughter hang out with new faces, delight immediately clouded their expressions. They were more than aware about Aera struggling to make friends, how she liked to stick to the same people she met in elementary school and never branch out. So to see that their daughter has finally made new friends to bring around, they would be insane to not go over the top in an attempt to help make her new friends want to stay.

Whilst questionable smells wafted through the house, Aera sat in her room, staring at the wall as she waited for the first person to arrive. She had texted Soobin her address the moment she woke up, and he had replied with a simple thumbs up so she wasn’t sure exactly what time he was showing up. Sanha had already known Aera’s address, from the multiple times he had picked up and dropped off the girl at her house from the times they hung out during the summer.

Sakura–well, Sakura texted that she would be at Aera’s house by noon, and noon was fast approaching. She hoped deep down that Sanha or Soobin would show up at eleven or maybe even eleven-thirty but knowing her luck, they probably wouldn’t come until well after Sakura came.

And that seemed to be the case. The clock ticked on, the time showing eleven forty-three, and neither Sanha or Soobin had shown up yet. Sakura had texted five minutes earlier that she was on her way, so Aera was mentally preparing herself for however long she was going to be left alone with Sakura to work on their project.

However many minutes later, the doorbell rang, but Aera didn’t move from her spot. The sound of footsteps could be heard, before voices were heard and then a loud, “Aera! Your friend is here!”

It was her mother who had screamed it, and just then, at that moment, Aera was knocked from her reverie. She quickly got out of bed and made her way downstairs, and before she got to the bottom of the stairs she saw Sakura, with her backpack hanging on one of her shoulders in a nice floral dress, standing in the foyer, talking to Aera’s mother.

From the sound of her descent, Aera’s mother turned to face the stairs, smiling sweetly at Sakura before saying, “Aera, you never told me about your friend Sakura.”

Aera smiled a tight-lipped smile, awkwardly glancing at Sakura when her mom mentioned the word ‘friend’. “Oh yeah, we didn’t meet until recently. For this project.”

“Oh, well, set camp anywhere that you girls like,” her mother responded, turning to make her way back to the kitchen. “We’re cooking up some food, and we can bring it out once it’s done.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lee,” Sakura says sweetly and bowing. “Also, your home is very lovely.”

Aera lifts an eyebrow in Sakura’s direction, not believing her niceness for a bit. Sakura ignores, or just doesn’t see Aera’s look, while Aera’s mother pauses her steps for a second and just smiles appreciatively at Sakura.

“Aera,” her mother begins, “This friend of yours is so nice. Why aren’t your other friends like this? Bring her back rather than those hoodlums, Jiah and Sooyung. All they do is eat all my food and play their loud music.”

“Eomma-”

But her mother continues. “You see how this friend of yours bowed and complimented me? Teach Jiah and Sooyung-ah that.”

“They did that the first time they came over,” Aera spoke up. “You want compliments every time they come over?”

“Of course.”

“But they literally come over everyday.”

“I can take compliments everyday, Aera.” Her mother concludes, with her hands on her hips. “Anyways, I don’t mean to keep you girls from your project,” her mother starts gesturing for them to move from the foyer. “I’ll send your other friends whenever they get here.”

“Other friends?” Sakura questions, but Aera quickly turns away and begins heading out of the foyer, and down a long hallway. Sakura quickly tells Aera’s mother, whose name she learns is Dongmin, that it was nice to meet her before she rushes in the direction Aera sped off in.

At the end of the hall, she finds a door that leads outside to a balcony, one that is bright white with a picnic table to the right of the door and an umbrella perched in the middle of the table to block out the bright sun. To the left of the door sat some outdoor furniture, a two-seat sofa and then a three-seat couch parallel to one another with a clear coffee table in between the two pieces of furniture.

In Sakura’s opinion, this entire balcony, and Aera’s home, looked quite expensive. She never took Aera to be someone who had a well-off family since no one in school ever mentioned it, nor did Aera herself. Plus no one with large amounts of wealth were as quiet as Aera, if Sakura’s parents had a lot of money she would flaunt it, not keep it a secret.

“I didn’t know you were rich,” Sakura speaks, finally moving from her spot in the doorway and stepping over to the picnic table where Aera sat. She placed her backpack onto the table and pulled out her laptop, notebook and a pen.

“We’re not rich,” the brown-haired girl muttered. “My grandad just owned this house and gave it to my mom as a wedding gift. It was already furnished and everything.”

“It’s still nice.”

“Thanks,”

An awkward silence enveloped the space. A bird chirped in the distance while Aera stared up into the sky as a plane passed by. Sakura tapped her pen on her notebook for a few beats, shifting her gaze around the environment before sighing and looking to Aera.

“Let’s do this fast, so we can get this over with, please.” she spoke. “I know you don’t want me to be here longer than necessary.”

“I-,” Aera’s voice wavers for a second, but she stops herself. “Okay.”

Sakura pulls open her laptop screen, typing for a few seconds before she peers over the top of the screen and looks at Aera with a look of confusion. “Are you not going to bring your own computer or notebook, or something?”

The question seems to shock Aera. “Oh-uh, I just thought that we could just use your laptop and notebook. But if I need to-” she quickly rises from her seat, and heads over to the door. “I’ll be back.”

Sakura doesn’t acknowledge her and continues typing on her computer, so Aera just continues inside and heads up to her room. While inside her room, she looks out of the one window that is there. The position of the window is right over the balcony where she left Sakura, and Aera watches her. She hadn’t gotten any murdery vibes from her so far, but Aera never knew. One wrong word or sentence and maybe the peach-haired girl would attack, and Aera would be left defenseless.

In Aera’s mind, the thought of possibly being attacked and murdered by Sakura was plausible, completely plausible. But to any sane person that understood Sakura was nothing but a one-hundred and something pound, sixteen-year-old girl knew that nothing of the sorts would be happening that day.

After a few more seconds of Aera staring and her mind running wild, she stepped away from the window and began searching for her laptop and a working pen. She scanned the floors for her MacBook, since she remembered plugging it in to charge the night before beside her bed, and she quickly found it. Next, she set off to search for a pen on her messy desk, pulling out drawers and then slamming them shut once she didn’t find any pens. A bright orange pen sat on her nightstand, and she quickly grabbed it before also snatching a notebook from her backpack that was on the floor. She then gathered everything into her arms and left her bedroom, making the trek down the stairs just as the doorbell rang for a second time that day.

Since she was already at the front door, the young girl quickly shouted, “I’ve got it!”

She pulled open the door, and there sat her other four guests. Sanha had his hand hovering over the doorbell, telling that he was preparing to press the button a second time before he set his gaze on the now opened door and saw his Sweet Cheeks.

“Sweet Cheeks,” he greeted with a shout of excitement.

“San San!”

“Lee Aera!” A voice interrupted, one that belonged to her mother. Dongmin came to the door, a bright smile on her face as her eyes scanned the four boys standing outside her front door. “Oh, are these your other friends? Come in, come in!”

The four boys quickly came in, Aera quickly backing up from the door to allow space for all of them to fit into the foyer.

“Sanha-ah, you tall boy,” Dongmin sing-songed, reaching forward and pinching his cheek. Red bloomed on Sanha’s cheek from the cheer force Dongmin used to grab and pull his cheek skin, but nonetheless he donned a smile. “Wow, all of you boys are so tall. My Jaesang isn’t as tall as you guys.”

The three remaining boys muttered thank yous and bowed repeatedly, which Aera knew her mother was glad to see. Before an unsettling silence could occur, Aera began introducing them to her mother.

“Ah, Eomma, this is Jeong-in, he’s-”

Dongmin’s face takes on the look of realization and she points out, “He’s the one Jiah likes, right? The boy she was showing me pictures of the other day?”

“Eomma,” Aera gasps, turning in surprise at both the fact that she remembered the pictures Jiah showed and the fact that Jiah was showing her mother’s pictures in the first place.

“What? He’s adorable,” Dongmin turns to face Jeongin. “You’re adorable, young man.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lee,” Jeongin says, being sure to bow once more before he extends his hand to her. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

Dongmin completely ignores his hand, pulling him in for a hug instead, surprising Aera, Jeongin, and Sanha at the sudden gesture. “I’m giving you a hug to wish you the best of luck with that Kim Jiah. She’s a handful.”

“Yes ma’am she is.”

“And a menace too,” Dongmin quickly adds. “Y’know she eats raw green onion? Like, uncut, completely in it’s form from the store. She’s a weird gi-”

“Okay, Eomma!” Aera claps with a cheerful voice, ending the rant her mother was beginning to go on that would have surely embarrassed Jiah for days. She then points to Taehyun, before introducing him, “This is Taehyun, he’s in my music class as-”

“Wah~, you’re so handsome. You could be a model, or one of those idols,” Dongmin begins once again. “Your facial structure is amazing for a growing boy, you’re really tall too. Wah~, why couldn't my Jaesang be as tall as you.”

Aera grimaces at her mother’s rant once again, covering her face before she mouths an ‘i don’t know, i’m so sorry’ to Taehyun, but the young boy just smiles at Dongmin and deeply bows. “Thank you, Mrs. Lee. You are very beautiful yourself.”

The other four teenagers groan at that, Aera letting out a, “C’mon Taehyun, that’s my mom.”

“Aera,” Dongmin says with a leveled tone. “Let the young man compliment me, besides he isn’t lying.”

“Oh my gosh.” Aera mutters, looking up at the ceiling wishing a black hole would open in the floor and just suck her in.

“Thank you, Taehyun-ah,” Dongmin brings Taehyun in for a hug, being sure to rock them side to side for an extra moment before she pulls back. “You’re my favorite as of now.”

Sanha lets out a gasp at that. “Dongmin-ssi I thought I was your favorite!”

“You didn’t compliment me today, Sanha-ah. You’ve lost your spot.”

“But you-” Sanha attempts to salvage his position as Dongmin’s favorite but Aera cuts him off quickly, placing her hand over his mouth.

“San San, you’ll live. Lastly, Eomma this is Soobin,” Aera says, grabbing Soobin’s wrist and pulling him from behind Taehyun so he could stand front and center in Dongmin’s line of sight. “He’s-“

“He’s the one from-” Dongmin starts to say, and Aera quickly lets out a panicked, “Eomma!”, afraid of what she might let slip.

Dongmin pauses for a second, quite caught off guard by Aera’s panicked shout before starting over. “He’s the one from your music class and physics class, right?”

Aera lets out a small breath of relief, noting the tone her mother used while speaking. Her mother knew that Soobin was more than just ‘the one from your music class and physics class’, but out of the goodness of her heart, she decided to spare her daughter the embarrassment she imparted on Jiah.

“Oh, uh,” Soobin glances over to Aera before he dips into a bow, the action causing Aera’s grip on his wrist to slip away. As he rises back to his full height he continues, “Yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Lee.”

“You as well, Soobin,” Dongmin smiles, reaching up to wrap one of her arms around his shoulders. “Y’know, you have quite an adorable face. You and all of your friends are just so handsome! How come you are friends with my Aera?”

Gee, thanks, Eomma, Aera thinks to herself.

“She was my seat partner for a bit in Physics,” Soobin explains. “She’s very nice though, easy to get along with. I suppose she learned that from you Mrs. Lee.”

Dongmin gasps in flattery, holding a hand to her heart. “Oh, please, just call me Dongmin-ssi, all of you. Maybe you’re my favorite now Soobin-ah. You kind of resemble a bunny, you know, when you smile—and oh! You have dimples, Aera he has dimples.”

Aera knew all of this already, hell, she’s spent most of her high school career staring at Soobin, so she more than anyone else knew that he had dimples and resembled a bunny. But either way, a deep red blush appeared on her cheeks as she watched her mother poke at and gush over the deep indents in her longtime crush’s cheeks.

“Eomma,” Aera clears her throat. “Can we please practice for our projects?”

“Oh!” her mother shouts, ceasing her poking and prodding and remembering why Aera invited her friends over in the first place. “Of course, yes. Did you leave that nice, young girl outside by herself?”

“Eomma, I’m sure she’s fine.”

“You’re being a bad host, Aera-ah,” her mother scolds. “I’ve raised you better than that, now go. Aera, don’t forget to apologize for leaving Sakura by herself for such a long time.”

The five teenagers turn away, Aera pointing down the hallway to show the four boys which direction to head in. “I will, Eomma.”

“Oh, and Jeongin! If you want any more stories about Jiah I’ve got plenty, that girl unloads all of her stress onto me as if I’m some diary-” Dongmin starts to rant as the boys begin walking away. Aera stays behind to ask her mother to tone down the niceties for a second, before she skips off down the hall, because while her mother nags at her for a lot of things, she was right about Aera being a bad host. No matter how much Aera thought Sakura was going to hurt her, she didn’t deserve to sit alone for so long.

#choi beomgyu #choi soobin #choi yeonjun #hueningkai #kang taehyun #choi soobin x female oc #kpop #social media au #txt #txt social media au

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