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roosterforme · 2 years ago

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Batting Practice Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley has second thoughts about what it would really mean to date a single mom. Meanwhile, you try to get your sister to watch Everett so you can have a night with Bradley.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing (eventually 18+)

Length: 3100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley was up early on Thursday morning. In an effort to stay in his warm bed for a few more minutes, he was scrolling back through his text messages with you. After a moment, he was grinning.

Was there always an undertone of flirtation? Yes. Did he also feel like he was getting to know you better? Yes.

When he reminded you last night that he wanted to take you out on a proper date, you promised him you would try to get your sister to watch Everett one evening soon. Bradley didn't mind taking you and Everett out to a movie or the park, but he definitely wanted a few hours alone with you. He was craving it.

And then he couldn't help himself. He tapped the thumbnail of your Kitten photo and groaned. It was too sexy. You were so real. He would be seeing you later today, probably back in one of your usual suits, which was also sexy as hell.

He walked to his shower with a hard dick. Better take care of this now before it became a problem later today. So he jerked off with one hand braced against the wall and the warm water cascading over his body. He thought about pressing his lips to your neck and begging you to show him your claws. He thought about you in that black pencil skirt.

He came, hard. With one final stroke of his hand, he started to clean himself up.

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

You bounced a bit at your desk. Your sister was coming to watch Everett's practice today. Once Molly caught sight of the coaches, she was going to lose her mind. And once you told her that Coach Bradley already asked you out, she was definitely going to volunteer to watch Everett one night for you. She was predictable like that.

Plus, she had always hated Danny, and she had taken to calling Frank 'that boring guy with the receding hairline.' She would consider Bradley an upgrade with just one glance.

And he was. He really was. You thought it was the way he was so effortlessly good with Everett that had you going all gooey.

You couldn't wait to get to the ballfield later today.

It was a miracle that you had been able to avoid Frank for most of the week, but when you got called into one of the conference rooms for a team meeting, unfortunately he was there as well. You lunged into the one of the two remaining seats that wasn't next to Frank. George gave you a strange look as he was about to sit there, but you just yanked it away from him.

When the meeting was over, you really needed to leave to get Everett from school. But of course Frank tried to follow you to your office.

"Baby," he whispered, following you like a lost dog. "Wait."

"Don't call me that, Frank. Please." But he followed you into your office as you started grabbing your bag.

"Come on. We were having fun!"

You scoffed. "Maybe you were having more fun than I was. I'm not into it now, okay?" you said, ushering him out and heading for the elevator.

You didn't want to get to the field late; as ridiculous as it was, you didn't want anyone else to get the opportunity to park next to Bradley's Bronco today.

"Come on," you muttered, eating a granola bar while you waited in the parent pickup line. Finally you moved to the front, and Everett hopped in.

"Tee ball day!" he cheered as you pulled back into traffic.

You had to laugh as he pumped his fists in the air. "Aunt Molly is coming today, too," you told him.

"Yes!" he cheered. "Can we see if Coach Bradley can teach me how to throw a slider one day?"

You bit the inside of your cheek to try to suppress your giggles. "Sure. We can ask." The idea of Bradley and Everett playing baseball at the park while you watched and cheered them on had you practically giddy. You'd treat them to ice cream afterwards. Maybe you'd treat Coach to even more than that.

You pulled into the parking lot and slipped your car into the spot next to the Bronco. Take that, Sandra.

Then to Everett's delight, Molly parked on the other side of you. "Aunt Molly!" he called through the closed window, and your younger sister was out of her car and opening your back door before you had your car turned off.

"Ev! I heard you're some sort of tee ball wizard!"

"I'm a power hitter," he informed her very seriously. "And I'm probably going to learn how to throw a slider in a few days."

She whistled. "I am impressed. I came to watch you show off today."

"Let's go get your cleats on," you said, ushering them toward the bleachers while you changed out of your heels.

"He's loving tee ball?" Molly asked, offering you a hand while you hopped into your sneakers.

"He's in heaven. So happy I signed him up for this. I'm trying to get Danny to come one day and watch him."

Your sister gave you a disgusted look. "You don't need him around you and Ev. How many times do I need to tell you that? He's a fucking asshole, and he's not good enough for either of you."

"He's still Ev's dad," you said softly, but your eyes connected with Bradley's. He smiled at you and nodded once before letting his eyes drift over your body.

Of course Molly noticed right away where you were looking. "Holy hell. Who is that? Oh my god, are those the coaches?"

"Uh huh," you whispered, watching Bob high five your kid while Bradley still smiled at you.

"Please, sign me up for tee ball. Oh shit, now I can't stop thinking about balls. That one coach is hardcore checking you out."

"I know," you told her, nudging her toward the empty spot on the bleachers.

She gasped next to you. "Please tell me that's why you asked me to watch Ev for you one night."

"Mmhmm," you hummed, kneeling to tie Everett's cleats for him. And when you stood up, Bradley was heading toward you in his backwards Phillies hat.

"Hey," he whispered. You thought maybe he wanted to call you Kitten, but didn't want to do it in front of a crowd.

"Coach," you said with a smirk.

"Can Bob and I talk to you after practice for a couple minutes? Regarding the pool party this weekend?" he asked, watching you bite your lip.

"Of course," you told him. "Team Mom duties."

"Coach! My Aunt Molly came to watch me be a power hitter," Everett told him, pointing at your sister. People frequently told you that the two of you looked like twins, but Bradley just politely held out his hand to her. Your sister on the other hand looked like she was going to burst from excitement.

"I'm Molly, and it's a pleasure to meet you," she said. "I'm really good at watching Everett for my sister when she needs a night off to have some fun." You glared at her as subtly as you could.

He just laughed. "I'm Bradley," he said, releasing her hand. "And that's good information to know."

He glanced at you again before leading Everett out to start warming up.

"That's what you need in your life. Not Danny. Not Frank. Bradley."

Your sister wasn't wrong.

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

Bradley was surprised that after just three weeks as a team, the Tiny Eagles were already practicing fielding with some success. Since there was no pitcher for tee ball, Bob had put Everett at second base, and he was doing a surprisingly good job. Even when he jumped up to try to catch a ball and ended up scraping his arm on the base, he didn't cry.

But Bradley ran out to him when he saw some blood, and Bob rotated another player to second base so Bradley could get him cleaned up.

"You okay?" Bradley asked, tilting Everett's arm back and forth as he led him to the bleachers for the first aid kit.

"Yeah," Everett said mildly. "Baseball injuries are cool."

Bradley just laughed as he glanced over at your worried face. He gave you a thumbs up, and you sat back down next to your sister.

"Well, let's get it cleaned up anyway." Bradley knelt down and cleaned the scrapes, and he added some first aid ointment before rooting around for an oversized bandage.

"I thought only moms knew how to do stuff like this," Everett said, watching Bradley open the band aid and center it over the cut.

Once again it broke Bradley's heart to see how easily he could relate to Everett. "Well, moms are clearly the best kinds of people. Most of the stuff I know how to do, I learned from my mom."

Everett nodded like that made a lot of sense to him, but he said, "Sometimes it would be cool to have a dad, too."

Bradley nodded like that made sense to him. "I know what it feels like to not have your dad at your tee ball games. It sucks, kiddo."

Everett just shrugged and bent his elbow to see how the band aid felt. "My mom's cool. She's probably better at the dad stuff than most dads."

"Yeah, she's really cool," Bradley added, standing and leading Everett back to the outfield.

Bradley spent the rest of the practice considering what it would really mean to get involved with you. Dates would be sporadic and would often include Everett. Sleepovers would happen once a week. Maybe less than that. Bradley would come in second place to your kid 95% of the time.

Now he kind of had a better understanding of why he never ever caught wind of Carole dating anyone after Nick died. She either hid it very well from Bradley, or she just didn't partake.

Bradley felt himself hesitating inside. He didn't think he could do this. But fuck if you didn't make him feel so damn good when you were around him.

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

You watched Molly run around with Everett while you waited for Bradley and Bob to chat about the swim party. It was comical the way the other moms shot them longing glances as they made their way to the parking lot.

"Hey, Team Mom," Bob said with a smile. "Can we put you in charge of ordering the pizzas for the swim party after the game on Saturday? We have the pool reserved from noon until five."

"Of course," you replied. "What else do you need?"

Bradley took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. "Sandra insisted on making a bunch of homemade cookies and cupcakes and shit," he said with an eye roll which you mirrored. "We just need some juice boxes and chips."

"Here, use my credit card," Bob said, handing it to you. "I can get reimbursed for everything. Just call in the pizza order right when the game ends, and they should have plenty of time to make the delivery for around one or two in the afternoon."

"Just have them deliver it to the pool?" you asked, watching Bradley replace his cap, but now he was avoiding your eyes.

Bob nodded. "Yeah, there's a kitchen in the small clubhouse we can use for the afternoon. Everyone can grab food from there. Should be simple enough. I'll pick up the keys tomorrow night, and I'll give them to you before the game starts on Saturday."

"Sounds good," you said, tucking Bob's credit card into your wallet. "I'll take care of the chips and juice boxes, too."

"Thanks, Team Mom," Bob said with a grin. He gave Bradley a look before heading toward the parking lot.

"Walk you up?" Bradley asked softly, finally looking at you the way you'd gotten used to.

When you nodded and turned, you gasped as you felt his hand at your lower back. You didn't tell him to stop, rather you walked a bit slower toward Ev and Molly, enjoying the feel of his warm palm through your work blouse.

"Everett really wants you to show him that slider," you said, unable to think of anything else to converse about.

Bradley chuckled but didn't answer you for a few seconds. "Are you two free on Sunday?" His voice sounded hesitant.

"Yes," you confirmed.

"And how are you at catching?" he asked, finally grinning down at you.

"I don't even have a glove," you told him, eyes wide. "And how fast are these pitches we're talking about?"

He laughed, head tipped back to the setting sun. "Catchers use mitts, not gloves, Kitten. I have one you can use. And nothing too fast. I would promise not to hurt you."

You liked the idea of that sentence having multiple meanings. But you just kind of hummed and pretended to be thinking about it. "Okay. Sunday works."

He rubbed his hand up higher on your back as you approached your son and your sister. "I'm also beginning to see that you need a better baseball education," he said, giving you a pointed look as he removed his hand from your back. "Hey, Molly. I'm going to need a favor."

Molly stopped tickling Everett and eyed Bradley with intense interest. "Yes? What can I do for you?"

"Any chance you can let your sister know which day you're free to spend some time with your nephew? She's in dire need of a night out."

"Am I?" you asked with a laugh.

But two sets of eyes landed on you at the same time. "You are," Bradley and Molly confirmed at the same time.

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

Bradley was fucked. He parked at the Hard Deck and went inside, still wearing his Tiny Eagles jersey and Phillies cap. He found Bob and Nat back by the pool table and joined them.

"I'm a little surprised to see you so soon. Thought you'd still be chatting up the Team Mom," Bob said with a chuckle.

Bradley ran his hands over his face. "I'm notorious for making poor choices when it comes to women, aren't I?" he asked Nat.

She laughed and sipped her drink. "What choices? The most pertinent decision you make about women is whether or not you're going to sleep with one."

Bradley rolled his shoulders and took her drink out of her hand. He took a long sip and tried to hand it back to her. "Just keep it. Jesus, you need to stop doing that. Now, what is this poor decision you've made?"

Bob was still chuckling as he told Nat, "He's into one of the moms. You should see the way he looks at her. He's all soft for her."

"You finally slept with her?" Nat asked.

"No! Nat, please! I need some help here!" He was already irritated and thinking about just going home when he saw Hangman out of the corner of his eye.

"What's got you all pissy?" he drawled.

"A woman," Bob and Nat replied in unison. "A mom, no less," Nat added with a smirk. "Apparently she makes him soft."

"Moms are not even my thing," Bradley managed to say through clenched teeth. "Too complicated. So much baggage, you know? That's why it's a terrible decision that I've made. I agreed to go to the park with her and her son on Sunday, show him how to pitch a baseball. And then I accidentally set up a date with her. And I bought Phillies tickets for the three of us."

Jake cocked his head. "That sounds intentional."

Now Bob looked angry. "You can't just jerk our Team Mom around like that. She's really sweet. And she volunteered because of you in the first place."

Bradley's eyes fell to Nat, because he knew she'd take him seriously now. "Do you like her?" she asked him. Bradley nodded immediately. "You're attracted to her? She seems attracted to you?"

"Hell yes," Bradley confirmed, his mind flooded with images of you dressed as a Kitten.

Nat just shrugged. "Sounds like a match. Give it a chance."

"But she's complicated!" Bradley tossed his head back. "I don't do complicated."

Nat just snorted. "You're an adult now, Rooster. Sometimes complicated can't be avoided. Sometimes complicated is worth it. And you're probably overthinking this. How complicated is it to get to know someone? Kiss them? Enjoy spending time with them and maybe their kid, too? It's not that complicated."

"I need a drink," he rasped, heading for Penny.

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

"Everett! Move faster!" you called up the stairs. "Your game is starting soon, and we need to leave!"

"I'm coming!" he yelled.

You had packed a bag with your bathing suits, towels, and other pool essentials last night. You were going to change into your leopard print bathing suit at the pool; a cat print, just for Coach Bradley. You smiled in the entryway mirror, your waterproof makeup looking good. Bradley hadn't been very talkative over text the past two days, but you were really looking forward to seeing him in person.

"Get your sneakers on," you told Everett as he came tearing down the stairs. "Or we'll be late, and the Tiny Owls will beat the Tiny Eagles, because you're a power hitter!"

That had him moving at double time. You got him in the car and made it to the ballfields in record time. Everett took off across the grass, headed for the other blue uniforms as they were just starting to warm up with Bob. You set your things down on the bleachers, and when you looked up, Bradley was right in front of you.

"Hi, Coach," you said with a big grin. But he was looking at you intently. "Everything okay?"

He was staring at you, so much so that you thought maybe you had some granola bar on your face. You were about to swipe at your mouth when he smiled at you. "Everything's perfect, Kitten. Just thinking about how much you and Ev brighten my day."

You gasped softly as his lips brushed against your cheek so quickly, you weren't sure it even happened. But the color in his cheeks and the way he kept turning back to look at you had you convinced it really did.

As the game started, you texted Molly, absolutely begging her to free up her schedule next weekend.

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

A swim party and a date?! The next part will get a little spicier for these two, but I'll label it when it's 18+. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 7

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine

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lowkeyrobin · 7 months ago

Note

could you write a walker x transmasc!reader oneshot? if not, that is fine aswell! - 🗡️

of course I could!! just beware any random shit because I don't know much about being transmasc and I did a lot of research on reddit and tiktok for this for like mannerisms ans shit ; thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy! ; for any regulars on my blog, ik I've enforced the gn reader only thing but I updated my rules list, where I'll only do trans masc/fem readers on request. that doesn't mean request a thing and add one of those solely for a set of he/him or she/her pronouns though. ; post writing robin and this was actually so fun to write LMAO I hope you like this even tho it's so short

WALKER SCOBELL ; the boys

summary ; youre transmasc and properly come out to walker and co + some stupid shit for two parts

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; idk shit about awards shows + imagine middle school auditorium seats for the first part

word count ; 723

masterlist

You, Aryan, Walker, and Leah sit in the audience at the 2025 Emmy Awards, chatting before the cameras turned on to watch the proper show begin. You and Walker sit together, with Aryan and Leah right behind you. The thick, tan, plastic chairs were going to do a number on your ass later. For a million-dollar award show you'd think they would upgrade the seat situation a little bit.

Leah and Aryan sit forward in their seats, holding a conversation with you and Walker, both turned around in yours.

"No, and like, you will not be calling me that, thank you!" You laugh and smile, "If you get your grimy hands on my legal name I will actually throw myself away. I am a man!"

"Wait, what?" Walker questions, eyebrows furrowed. "Legal name?"

"I changed my name" You clarify. "Cause like..." You look yourself up and down, hands following your gaze. "Y'know?"

Walker blinks, pushing his blonde curls away from his face. "Wait... you're trans?"

You nod, a playful yet unbelievable smile on your face. "How did you not know?"

"Even I knew" Leah comments, glancing at Aryan, who nods in agreement.

"I thought it was kinda obvious." You chuckle, seeing his surprised reaction. "I had to keep correcting people about my name like, a million times"

"I never knew you had another name? I thought it was always Y/n!"

"This is going on my story"

"Which one?"

"The Boys"

Walker smiles, his right arm slung over your shoulders as he watches you caption and post the picture you'd just taken with him on your public Snapchat story. It was titled The Boys, meant for you and all your close friends.

He was glad to see that you considered him one of your close friends, but also on such a deep level, though it was just a title to you. He saw the deeper meaning that you didn't. Like an over analyzing reader to a writer. He was happy you also considered yourself a boy, that you could happily parade that around and feel comfortable with your identity. He truly couldn't be more proud to see you happy and smiling in this moment.

You look back up at him, a cheesy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"What's that look for?" You ask, a little confused.

"Nothing" He replies, patting your right shoulder blade as he moves his arm around a bit. "We should definitely make a playlist and put it on your story for people to listen to" He suggests with a slight shrug.

"For what?" You ask again, a little puzzled as to where this was going."

"Just cause"

"Okay, Mr.-Won't-Explain-Shit-Scobell"

"You just went on a five minute tangent trying to avoid the word homophobia"

"I was testing the waters with your gaydar, cause apparently it was broken the first time"

"I don't have a gaydar! I'm just, like, here! I'm just a guy"

"Look at this handsome man! Dude, wear purple more, I'm so serious"

"Okay, I see you, Y/n!"

"Fix your tie!"

"I'm trying, I'm still learning! I didn't have this chapter of boyhood"

"Here-" The blonde mumbles, reaching forward to fix your black tie.

You tilt your chin up, giving him easy access to the cloth wrapped around your neck. Leah and Aryan watch, smug looks on their faces.

You send them a glare, trying not to alert Walker to it. He quickly reties your tie, sending you a thumbs up as he backs away. You quickly thank him, a warmth heating up your cheeks, physically unnoticeable.

"Walker, you look like a divorce lawyer." You comment, stuffing your hands in your purple pockets.

The blonde dramatically scoffs, a hand rested on his heart. "You're so mean to me! You're not welcome to the next boys sleepover"

"I don't wanna be a part of that dorky shit anyways"

"Okay, meanie"

"What are you, twelve?"

"...Did you just attempt to quote me?"

You shrug with a side nod.

Leah speaks for you, "Yeah, he did"

"How do you know?"

"He told us that he was gonna try and quote you at least once today" She chuckles.

The three look back at you, lining your jawline with your finger, clearly sucking up your tongue.

"Dude, stop mewing, we have to go out there in like, a minute"

#lowkeyrobin #walker scobell x reader #walker scobell #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #transmasc reader #transmasc!reader #he/him reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson #🗡 anon

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333creolelady · 9 months ago

Text

Lady Of The Blue Bakunawa Ch. 6

Afab black OC x Roman Reigns (Pirate au)

Banner by : @joannasteez

Warnings: MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING. mentions of past child loss, grief, mentions of past child abuse, mention of past sexual assault, mentions of past murder, gore, mentions of past racism, heavy angst (with fluff), hard topics, sex, foreplay (fingering cunnulingus fem receiving) Handjob, description of bodily fluids (cum, arousal), emotionally heavy topics, Includes a creature (a collective) who thrives on pain, religious undertones due to mention of the seven deadly sins, brief mention of not wanting to be alive (not SH), patricarichal views (Jane is unlearning, give her some grace chile).Minors DNI. LONG CHAPTER ALERT.

Songs this chapter: When Ginny kissed Harry, Davy Jones, Avril 14, El matador, Observatory kiss

Alternative playlist songs: Like a star, Decks dark, The Moment I said it, Cemeteries of London, Simply beautiful

Chapter Playlist link here <-

Next-> chapter 7

<- Back to Masterlist

Alternative Playlist link <-

Second warning. This chapter is emotionally heavy. Please consider reading it in two parts if you have to. This chapter has brief mentions of PAST sexual assault mid chapter. There is also a consensual smut scene (foreplay) at the end of the same chapter. If this is too heavy for you I will send you a cliff notes version (just shoot message in my DM’s) Chapter indicators for the SA topic will be <color coded> so you may skip if need be. . Proceed with caution.

Roman

He watches her take a breath and shoot at an empty can floating on a piece of driftwood. Caden had tied to the wood to rear of the ship. It was the best way she could get shooting practice from a distance. Funnily enough, Jane was savvy with a gun. She’d only been practicing for a few days and could shoot pretty well from a reasonable distance. Roman was impressed.

He’d left her for a few moments to set the dinner table inside his cabin. The waters were calm and the warm breeze had made the humidity slightly too sticky. He made light of it, feasting his eyes on the exposed skin of her neck and arms. Warmer weather called for thinner clothes. He would enjoy it for now.

He placed her bowl across from his and plated the food onto a porcelain plate. There were many upgrades on this new boat. Night had a taste for the finer things and had many high priced items hidden on the ship. He seemed to like fine china. Jane noticed his absence and turned around, he beckoned her to eat. She sat down across from him and placed her pistol on the table next to her.

Roman observed the way she handled her weapons so confidently already. “ Like a proper pirate”, Roman teased. She pulled off the extra hat he gave her and sat it beside the gun. She smiled shyly, placing a napkin in her lap.

8 days ago Roman and Jane’s relationship had changed in what only could be described as an explosion of passion previously left unshared. He now would encourage her sword lessons with Adhar. He would teach her how to use a gun and how to defend herself.

And now there was no confusion on whether or not affections would be shared. It was clear as day that they liked each other. He was just waiting for Jane to lean into her desires and initiate more often.

She sat across from him and dug into the food, spooning it into her mouth. He went fishing for her and cooked it. Tropical waters meant better catches of fish.

“ What is this?”, she said with an enthusiastic mouth full.

“ Oka l’a. It’s a dish of my people. Most people prefer it raw but sometimes we cook it for the children or sickly. You get the cooked version”, he chuckled watching her pick up a tiny piece of fish and eat it with her fingers.

“ You made this?”, she said with surprise.

“ Yes. That’s why I was gone”, he smiled.

“ It kind of tastes like coconut too. We used to put coconut in some of our food back in Trinidad. My grandfather used to add it to his Callaloo”, she sighed in content.

“ So you like it ?”

“ I do! You never told me you could cook.”

“ There was never a need to. Always had somebody to do it for me but thankfully my memory is pretty extensive. I’m sure there are a few missing ingredients however. This was my favorite dish my mother made.”

“ You remember her?”, she asked with curiosity.

“ I’m not ancient ”, Roman laughed. Jane just smiled and went back for another piece of fish.

“ Sometimes the memories get fuzzy after so long”, she shrugged.

“ I feel that way sometimes. The food was the easiest thing for me to remember because it was one of the last meals I had. At least that’s what my memory tells me.”

“ So this..raw fish. Your culture eats it a lot ?”

“ Yes. We prepare it in a way. We knew which ones to choose—we could asses how healthy the fish was. It’s very fresh and the children are brought up on it young. We never got sick. Thankfully, now that we’ve moved into more tropical waters, we have healthier fish. I could never eat this from the port. It was would end bad since the water is so filthy.”

“ Lest we want another cholera event”, she joked.

“ Don’t even remind me”, Roman shivered.

“ Do you have any other favorite meals ?”

“ Pork.”

“ Pork? But you can get pork anywhere.”

“ We cooked it better.”

“ How did you learn to cook anyway?”

“ The men cook where I’m from. Especially for big feasts. So young boys learn how to cook from their fathers.”

Jane’s eyes widened. “ Remind me why we aren’t back there instead ? Everything I’ve heard so far is promising.”

“ If you want off cooking duty you’d best say so. Unfortunately my meals are only reserved for you”, he teased.

“ As tempting as that sounds, I can't abandon ship with Caden.”

“ So what’s another interesting thing about your culture ?”

“Our seafaring is unmatched. We were the first people in the world to migrate by boat.”

“ So this comes naturally to you then?”

“ Yes. Especially because all I knew was water even in my life before.”

“ Married to the sea”, she teased. Roman didn’t laugh but instead graced her with a soft unassuming smile.

“And what about you?”, he asked.

“What about me?”

“Is there anything you remember about Trinidad ? Anything at all ?”

“ I remember putting scotch bonnets in our food. We have really spicy peppers—maybe even some of the hottest in the whole world. As a kid, whenever a general was particularly mean to us, we would rub the rim of their mugs with the juices from the pepper. There lips would blow up like fish.”

Roman laughed. “ Mischievous .”

“ Oh you don’t know half of it. Me and my cousin used to get in SO much trouble. There’s a certain kind of fearlessness children are born with. I would never have the gull to do something like that now.”

“ I’m a fan of young Jane. She sounds like she doesn’t take any mess”, Roman smiles.

“ I also remember being able to wear what I wanted as a kid. The culture we created for ourselves didn’t concern itself with layers and corsets and thick fabric. It’s hot. If I left my house with my stomach showing as a kid, people would laugh at my pot belly at most. Women didn’t have to be covered from neck to ankle either—like I said, it’s hot. Our garbs were also very colorful and bright. Then one day there were all these rules. Wear this not that. Your hair should be this not that. Anything else was suggestive or loud.”

“ Well..sounds like a story I’ve heard one too many times unfortunately.”

Jane shrugs. “Well I suppose there’s no point in stewing in it now. You take the good parts and leave the rest.”

“ I would have disagreed with that before I met you but now….”, Roman trailed off teasingly. A smile spread slowly on her face. He had a habit of staring at her unpromoted now. She was convinced he just liked to see her squirm.

She anxiously changed the topic. “How much longer?”

“ A few more days. We’re close.”

“ Days? Good, we have more pressing matters to address anyways.”

“ Like?”

Jane looks down in her lap finding the courage to finally spit it out. “We kiss…”

“Yes.”

“On the lips….”

“Yes I know.”

“And you touch me…”

Roman scoffs in a humorous tone. “How could I forget ?”

“Yes but… usually when that happens there’s a reason for it. Like there’s a purpose.”

“I want to make you feel good. Is that not the purpose for any of it ?”

“What I mean is that we’re doing things that people who are in established relationships do.”

“ We are. Fun, isn’t it?”, he smiled smugly. He enjoyed forcing her to be more direct.

“ I am unspoken for. You have no claim on me and I doubt you intend to wed. I know people see that we are involved no matter how cordial and polite you are in front of others. It’s unbecoming for a woman on a ship full of men to be so loosely claimed, while clearly giving away the very thing reserved for a steady union. I mean what if people think I’m just…kept. And while I think that most of your crew have been outstanding gentlemen to me, they’re still just men Roman”, she uttered quickly.

He raised a brow at her. “ Who said you were unspoken for…?”

She mirrored his face with a surprise of her own. “Uh…well you never said.”

Roman leaned forward with his elbows dominantly on the table across from her. “ My apologies. We are together. Meaning that you are my intended, lover, suitor. Or if you prefer the term courting then that is suitable as well.”

Jane is visibly stunned. She just assumed that any relationship she formed with Roman wouldn’t be a steady one. He wasn’t exactly traditional. “ Courting would mean that you intend to marry…?”

“ So ?”

“ You’re a pirate ?”

“ And?”

Her expression flattened.“ You live in a boat in the middle of the ocean.”

“ Accomodations can be made, don’t you think?

“ I mean yes…”

“ Unless you prefer our connection to stay strictly physical?”, he asked.

“ No no. I was just concerned about how it looked.”

“ How about this…I could make an announcement?”

“ No… it doesn’t have to be some big event.”

“ Well then I won’t hide my affection.”

“ I didn’t take you as a publicly affectionate person.”

“ It’s not like I’ll have my tongue down your throat—without your permission of course. Hand placement goes a long way.”

A mischievous expression spread across her face. “ Well since you’ve declared that we’re courting I’ll have to put you to work more often.”

“ I aim to please Miss Ramlal.”

“ I’ve noticed”, she giggled.

Romans attention faltered when a loud thump echoed beneath them. He stalked to the edge of the ship to see a giant piece of plank wood bumping on against the boat.

“ Look!” Jane gasped.

Behind them a ship splintered into a million pieces laid on the shore of a beach. It looked old and the wood was wet and rotten. The sail was obliterated.

“ Why-has this happened ?”, Said Jane.

“ I’m not sure, it could have been anything. I know one thing for certain though, this means we’re getting closer to our destination.” Roman pulled out his spyglass and further inspected the shipwreck. The wood had chunks bitten out of it as if something attempted to eat the boat.

Worry clenched Roman’s chest as he folded the spyglass and put it back on the table.

“ Room for dessert dove ?”

Jane

3 days of wind and gray skies with absolutely no rain and plenty of thunder, it was unheard of. The air was colder and despite the wind there were no waves. The boat had an almost mechanical float, as if it had feet underneath the hull dragging across the sea floor. Roman insisted that things were moving according to plan. Jane wasn’t so sure.

Suddenly a thick mist filled the air causing Jane to step back cautiously. Jane retreated back towards Roman’s quarters as a huge groaning sound echoed in the distance. A rumble vibrating throughout the ship sent her scrambling for Roman. Sure enough she needn’t look far as he immediately looked for her too, stepping out of his quarters and holding onto her with caution. Something rumbled under the surface of the water completely gray, solid, and endless.

What looked to be a building made of stone or concrete traveled slowly and disruptively out of the sea and into the sky, reaching past the clouds and onwards to the heavens. Water fell from the sides splashing back down to the sea below. Jane turned to Roman with fear, a question already forming on her lips but never making it past them.

“ It’s alright. This is where we’re supposed to be ”, he reassured quietly.

A murmuring crowd had formed now. The building had hundreds of tiny small square glass windows but no light illuminated from them. The shape of the building was rectangular, narrow and smooth. She’d never seen a construction like it. It’s opening was a gaping black hole that she couldn’t see through. Large wet stone steps led to the entrance, just wide enough to put a ship ramp down. As afraid as she was, her feet felt compelled to move forward. If he was going to go then she was coming with him.

“William, Adhar, with me. Jane…”, Roman headed for his cabin leaving the french doors open. The two followed behind him. William loaded his pistol and Adar unsheathed his sword. They sat at the table sharpening weapons and loading their pistols. Roman’s attached two small pistols to his hip. Jane took a pistol for herself and Roman softly took it from her.

“ You should know what you’re getting yourself into before you make your choice”, he said softly.

“Well, let’s hear it”, said Jane.

“The man who gave me the map to the key was rumored to have been the only survivor of the journey but it changed him forever. Every pirate knows that this is rumored to be an eternal prison of all depravity and fear. Here belongs every spirit of corruption—the first of their kind. Some are referred to as fallen angels.”

“ Demons ?”, her face wrinkled in confusion.

“ Aliens, demons..fallen angels. Whatever your persuasion.”

Jane took in a sharp inhale.

“ You do not have to go in. None of you do. I can do this alone”, said Roman.

“No…no I won’t leave you”, said Jane.

“ We stay with the captain”, Said William confidently. No fear.

“ Us pirates have heard the rumors for years about what this will look like…what it will feel like. I fear the rumors have been true. That…this place is every bit of a prison. I don’t know what horrors await us on the other side. All I know is that you will be judged in some way. The myths over the years alter and change.”

“ I understand.”

“ I must warn you that this creature has a fixation for women. Crane mentioned that we may have a better chance of getting the key with you there.”

“ Why?”

“ I have no clue but for that reason maybe you should sit this one out. Fixation could mean anything ?”

“ I’m coming”, Jane said with a gentle firmness. Roman is visibly nervous and holds back on controlling the situation. She can see the wheels turning in his head.

“ Are you absolutely sure Jane?”

“ I stay with the captain”, she uttered.

Roman stood in finality. “ Adhar behind Jane. William at my side.”

The group goes back to preparing their weapons. Hat, boots, long shirts and cotton pants. It was cooler now despite being in the tropics. Jane dressed in Caden’s hand-me-downs, disguising herself as a man as best she could. She was almost sure “fixation” wasn’t a good thing where they were going.

The four of them finished gearing up and made way for the ramp. Caden wished Roman luck eyeing the building with hesitance. Their feet finally touch the wet slabs of the stone stairs leading to the opening. William stands with Roman and Adhar is behind Jane forming a protective shape around her. Jane reaches for Roman’s right hand. He let’s her have it, wanting to give her comfort in some way. She looks back at Caden only to find Adhar staring at their hands with an unreadable expression.

William and Roman take the first steps and the others follow. Their boots echoed into the abyss. A few steps further and they become engulfed in darkness. Then suddenly the dark opening is lit with dozens of torches. They paused when they sensed the presence of another person. A large person–or perhaps it was once a person held a lantern. Large muscles, hooved feet, a tail, long uncanny long arms, and a BULL’S head. Before the scream could leave Jane’s mouth, Adhar covered it. Roman pulled his hand slowly from her and rested his hand on his pistol. William held his hand out, motioning to wait. The bull tilted it’s head to the side watching the group as if to assess them. The Minotaur’s eyes grew darker and wider when they landed on Jane causing Roman to completely pull out his gun.

“ If you want in, those weapons are not allowed”, it spoke with a deep honking barrelous voice. He motioned for Roman’s weapon.

“ The girl needs protection”, said Roman.

“ As does fate. No weapons”, said the Minotaur crossing his arms.

“ Remember what we came here for Roman, it’s fine. We didn’t come all this way for nothing”, Jane whispered.

“ I am the keeper of this prison. I control what goes and what doesn't come out. This is your final warning. Lose the weapons or you will not pass”, the Minotaur warned.

Jane saw the puzzled anger in Roman’s eyes. For a moment she thought he would shoot the damned thing but she rested her hand on his back. With a tense jaw he slowly placed his guns on the ground followed by his sword. The others followed suit. The minotaur watches them for a moment and begins to walk, not bothering to motion for them.

He leads them up a thin and narrow stone staircase with small windows overlooking the sea. There was a wet mildew smell to this place that clung to her nose. The stairs carried them out to a stone floor that held 6 cells on each side. The first creature was something out of a nightmare. It was humanoid with fleshy pale gray wings, an emaciated slim body, large eyes—all pupil, holes for a nose and no mouth. It stood unmoving, eyeing her before placing it’s hand on the invisible barrier that held it inside its cell.

She turned her head in the other direction only to find an even more terrifying creature. There was an Octopus like creature whose skin resembled human flesh with tentacles that had suckers like human mouths. It’s moans sounded like that of a woman’s and an animal mixed together. Her breath hitched and her nails dug into Roman hands so hard that he winced and turned around to face her. The group stopped.

“ Just don’t look Jane”, he reassured her quietly. Adhar placed a reassuring hand on her back looking behind him protectively.

“ Come. They are contained”, said the Minotaur without looking back.

“ Come Miss Ramlal. They look just like my old military unit. Just another walk in the park”, William said quietly in that thick German accent.

They go back to following the Minotaur. Jane keeps her head down to the ground in order to avoid scaring herself again. The only problem is that they would have to travel ten flights of stairs before they reached who they were looking for.

Within those ten flights of stairs the sounds of these…beings were far too intriguing. Some levels were completely silent and so dark it looked like nobody was there. Others were extremely loud with howling screaming monsters. Some of the creatures were violent, banging against their magical traps while others didn’t bother to turn around and see who was there.

She peaked and saw three 4 foot beings with dark grey skin, large eyes, slits for noses, no mouth, long fingers, large heads and tiny child-like bodies. She saw beings that looked like humans with three eyes and mouths full of razor sharp teeth. She saw beings that looked like children with black eyes. Some of them looked like animals that stood on hind legs, some of them were beasts she’d heard of in fairy tales. Lizard creatures, vampires and wendigo. She saw creatures that she’d only heard of in Trinidadian folklore. Douens, Lagahoo’s and Chikcharney’s.

Magic was real. It was a real as rain and it was dark. It was scary. Suddenly she knew without a doubt that the treasure had to be real too.

“ We have arrived”, The Minotaur grunts.

The tenth floor was one long hallway with a stairwell. It was dark. So dark that the torch the Minotaur held looked like a candle light. He snapped his fingers and ten torches lit the room to reveal a cell at the end of the hall. The cell was completely dark as if nothing was there.

The Minotaur turns to them. “ Have you brought them a gift ?”

“ Them? There was no talk of bringing it a gift. Nobody informed us.”

“ They will not speak unless you’ve brought a gift.”

“ I have an apple..”, Adhar says quietly.

The Minotaur hold out his hand awaiting Adhar. Adhar places the apple in his palm. The bull places the apple into a slot by the cell and pushes it into the opening. For a moment it’s just quiet but then a voice calls out. It sounded like a child, a man, and a woman all speaking at once. Like three voices stacked on top of one another.

“Have you met my children? My aspects ?”

“ Children ?” Roman called out the darkness.

“ Yes, they are my flesh and blood and …bone. Created in my image”, the voices groaned.

“ I wasn’t aware,” said Roman cautiously.

“ Perhaps you have read the apocrypha ?”, said a child’s voice. It startled Jane.

Roman doesn’t respond.

“ This is what you were wore that day….it is not ?”, said the child voice. Suddenly the blackness of the glass faded until it revealed a little boy….

Roman

His palms grew cold and wet. The room was hot. There it stood. The reoccurring nightmare that he could never truly out run. Himself.

8 year old Roman stood in front of him in a cotton lava lava, barefoot, no shirt because it was especially hot that day. He’d been playing in the water and his mother finally flagged him down to eat. He ate the last meal he would ever eat from her. He played with his siblings making sand cakes and running around the shore line. Then his life turned upside down.

“ Roman”, he heard Jane whispered to him. He couldn’t even turn around to face her. He was utterly frozen in place. The memories come back to him. His crying, being pried from the hands of his mother, sand burn on his back from being dragged, the screaming, the pleading. Nobody understanding him because of the language barrier. The confusion. The realization that he would never see his family again. The realization that his parents were not invincible and in the end, there was nothing they could do against German occupation. The harshness in the soldiers' glares. The disgust.

“ Or perhaps…this form would be better…”, The creature morphed into his tormentor. Queen Augusta Luise. She stood with a knowing smirk on her face, fanning herself with that imported Chinese fan. She was in her usual dramatic ball gown with an obnoxiously large ruby and diamond necklace. Her hair was in a tight updo with brown hard curls pinned at the top of her head. Her blue eyes cut him as they always had. It had even mimicked her thick accent.

The most gut wrenching, visceral, primal rage came over him. If he ever saw Augusta again he vowed that he would make her suffer. He stepped closer to the cell and the Minotaur reached a hand out to his chest.

“ They can’t get out. You can’t go in. It is written.”

“ What does it want?” Roman urged.

“ Your pain is your payment. If you want the key your pain, secrets, and sins will be judged. There is no prize without punishment.”

“ That hardly sounds fair.”

“ Is it not? You desire a treasure older than your existence. A treasure that can only be held in the hands of a worthy man. Are you worthy ?”

Roman frowned. “ What does my pain do for you?”

“ feeds us..”

Roman frowned, disturbed by its words.

“ We are hungry. It has been many years since we have tasted the sweetness of fruit ... .but the sweetness of sorrow is unmatched. It is dripping from one of you. We could not pass up this opportunity”, says Augusta’s clone with a sickly fake sympathetic voice.

“ Is it really worth it all? We don’t need a fucking key to get the treasure. I’ll take my bloody gun and shoot whatever’s holding the goddamn thing. What does this thing know about any of us?”, William whispered to Roman.

“ William Wright. Prideful William”, The monster morphed into a 3 year old boy with strawberry blonde hair, freckles, large green eyes and a button nose. It’s voice became tiny to match the body it emulated. Jane’s eyes widened in horror as William dropped to his knees in as soon as he saw the boy.

“ Too prideful to spend time with your only son thinking being a provider is more important than being there for your sick child.. Now he’s gone and what do you have to show for it ? A dead General who did nothing wrong but give you the commands you signed up for. Plucking out his eyes in a misplaced fury….”, This monster morphed into a burly man with blonde hair, and a bloody face with missing eyes.

“ Stop this! You know nothing!”, William cried in agony. Jane debated comforting him or staying put. She didn’t want the attention to turn on her.

The creature taunts William in his sons form and voice, leaning against the barrier. “ Prideful William, too prideful to say that he took out his own eyeball in guilt but instead lies and claims that he lost it in a sword fight. William the prideful. Too prideful to write to his wife. You ignore her letters. You let her wallow in her grief alone. Oh…pride is your true love. This sin suits you well. Even now…you cannot face the truth. You refuse it.”

William sat on the floor reduced to tears, head tucked between his legs. How easy this fierce man broke down. Roman’s fierce fighter had self- destructed. A reminder that everyone has something in their life worth crying over no matter how strong they appear.

Roman rested his hands on Williams' shoulder. He looked back up into the cell to see Augsta staring at him with that smirk again.

“ Do you accept..wraithful Roman?”

Roman’s face fell. “ Fine…but not her.”

Augusta twirled her hair playfully. “ If your pain is worth the treasure you seek, then perhaps…”

“ NOT. HER”, said Roman sternly.

“ We shall see. Come …”, the monster said in a gentle voice as it morphed into a young woman with nearly ankle length jet black hair. She had tawny brown skin, thick brown eyes, a wide nose and full pink lips. She was gorgeous… She was his mother.

Roman let the tears happen, he didnt try to wipe them away. It was too painful to claim indifference. It had been many years since he saw her face. His mother– the monster, was crying with him. She placed her hand on the invisible barrier and Roman nearly did the same. He stopped himself remembering that it wasn’t her.

“ She grieved you for a long time. She didn’t believe you to be gone forever. She convinced herself that it was a bad dream and that you were simply lost. But you were not lost.. You had a new mother..”, said the womanly voice. The monster then turned to Augusta again. Anger creeped up on the back of his neck. He always felt anger on his back and on his neck. Now it was no different.

“ Have your lover the fantasies you have of killing your former mother?”

“ She is not my mother..”, Roman sneered.

“ You called her Mommy. You held her hands in yours, appeased her even when she made you beg for a God you didn't believe in. She beat you into submission. So peculiar how hatred can turn into an obsession. You were her little doll and you performed for her for years. Making her believe that her love was the cause for your greatness. Fencing, Math, Polo, Portuguese,Spanish, German, English, Japanese. Star pupil…handsome and muscular. Smart as a whip. Well spoken…they would say. When her back was turned you spat in her food. You stole her items and sold them for free. You cursed her name every night before you closed your eyes. Too afraid to show your rage, too afraid to upset your captor. How she had turned you into her perfect pet, performing at a whim and entertaining her high born friends.Then suddenly she outgrew you. Her little puppy had turned into a wolf and that rage had cracked and broken the seams of your composure. She kicked out her dog..”, The monster taunted. It shifted to his teenage self in tattered clothes.

“ Suddenly the victim becomes the monster. Does she know about the killing spree you went on after she discarded you? Kings guards, high society sweethearts? Anyone who looked at you wrong? You may believe that your anger was warranted but how many orphans did you create ? Mothers you made childless? They called you the Lacerator because of the mess you left behind. Everywhere you went there was destruction and pain. You killed your fellow pirates in ways that would make the devil blush. You killed for money, for greed, for power. Yet you believe that the family you formed in your crew washes the stain of blood from your hands?”

Roman turned to Jane to see a sick look on her face. Would she see him differently after this?

“ You mention no context. Those people saw me as subhuman. Some of them were even ordered to kill me or took it upon themselves to torment me. I did what I had to do to survive”, Roman countered.

“ Not all of them were high born. Some of them were similar to yourself. Class traitor…so dignified in your approach to violence. Does she know that every moment of your life you have a wraith boiling inside of you so legendary that I can feel it through our barrier. You wish to harm me. You wish to harm those who have done you wrong but instead you have pillaged your way to your current riches. The same way the Germans pillaged your people. No amount of blood spilled will fill the hole inside of you. Wraithful Roman. Be hopeful that all this suffering will have amounted to something. May god save the ones you love if you get to that treasure and find nothing but bones and dust.”

Roman watched silently as the monster morphed itself into countless faces…some he remembered and others he didn’t. He could bare it no longer.

“ You got what you wanted”, Roman sneered. The monster froze with the terror stricken face of his last kill. A pirate from Captain Night’s ship.

“ Adhar…oh Adhar....”, the creature groaned in a woman’s voice. It’s figure became that of a woman moaning in pleasure. Gingers, Brunette’s, Black, White, Asian. Fair skinned and Dark skinned. They all moaned Adhar’s name one after the other.

“ They all loved you, Adhar. What is it about you that drives women to madness ? What wound do you press against that makes them feel so unworthy. Or is it you? Is it you who feels unworthy ? Is it you searching for something you never had ? Perhaps it was your mother. She couldn’t be bothered to care about you. She was forced to have you. You barely know the warmth of a mothers love. Or was it your father ? Nothing was ever truly good enough for him. You weren’t a man in his eyes. Kita almost made you whole again. She loved you dearly…”, a soft voice called out. She was undoubtedly south Asian. Green eyes, curly shoulder length hair, elaborate jewelry and an olive complexion. Roman looked back at Adhar to see a watery smile spread across his face.

“ I didn’t have any money. I just wanted to be able to provide for Kita. To give her nice things. To take care of her like a real man”, Adhar sniffled.

“ Instead of stepping up, asking her father for her hand and living a humble life— you rob and steal. You killed the market owner, someone you knew since childhood. You take from your own community. You betray the ones you love for money. They had no choice but to send you away leaving Kita with broken promises and a broken heart. What do you do to ease the pain? You pursue countless women, giving them sweet nothings. They awake to the smell of you on their sheets. Lustful lonely Adhar, so sure he’s content. So sure that he’s simply a kind man. So sure he made the right choice but constantly searching for a woman you’ll never have. Your longing has no restraint. It is so boundless that it has made you envious of the man who saved you from a life of poverty and starvation”, said the monster.

Adhar breathing quickened. His fists balled up in flattered fashion. “I- I- I just didn’t want to be …I didn’t meant to hurt anyone. That was never my intent….”

Then with a sudden turn of events Kita morphed into full lips, brown almond eyes and black onyx hair. Roman looked at himself on the other side of the glass. The monster mirrored him perfectly before splitting itself into a second person. Jane. The monster had morphed into himself and Jane. Roman tensed up not understanding where this was going,

“ Not only are you lustful but you are envious. Envious of affections shared between your captain and your new friend. Envious of a love lost. Envious of the love brewing between Roman and his intended. If you feel that you are unloveable—then you will always be. No matter how much you fuck the loneliness away you are lustful lonely Adhar. Adar the envious”, said Roman’s Doppelganger. It turned to kiss Jane’s doppelganger. Adhar looked sick as he glanced over to Roman and then Jane.

Roman was just as embarrassed as Adhar was. All the speculations he had about Adhar and it never occurred to him that he was jealous of what he and Jane shared. He assumed he just wanted Jane but that wasn’t the case. He wanted what they had. He didn’t know about Kita or much about his life before. Adhar was a newer crew member who he didn’t get the chance to speak with often. He took him in because of his proficiency with the sword.

Roman turned to look back at Jane who was standing behind the Minotaur now. The last time she looked this frantic was the first time they saw each other. William was in a ball on the floor staring at the wall. Adhar looked like he was seconds from cracking. Everyone was a mess. Now he understood what the creature meant when it said pain. Everything about this was painful. Their worst thoughts about themselves actualized.

“ If you don’t mind sir I’ll…be waiting behind the door. Just yell for me? ”, Adhar looked to Roman. Roman nodded in agreement allowing him an early exit.

“ We are done”, Roman says with resistance. For the first time in his life…he was afraid. He was afraid of what came next. He was afraid for Jane.

“ I could stop now but…this treasure that you want. It’s more than just Gold, Silver, Rubies and Diamonds. This treasure would make you the wealthiest person to have ever lived. The monarchies would pale in comparison to you. I have seen nothing to convince me of any of your repentance. If you give me her pain I could feed off it for months. Give me her or you return to your ship and get swallowed by the sea”, the monster hissed. It’s voice was nowhere near the familiarity of a human. It was stripped of any of humanity.

“ She is mine to protect. We will and take our chances. Jane come, we are leaving ,” Roman stalked to her but she stepped back.

“ N-no. No I can do it.”

“ I don’t want this. You don’t want this Jane”, Roman raised his tone ever so slightly. He didn’t mean to but his mind was spinning. Whatever she wasn’t ready to tell him, surely this wasn’t the way she’d go about it?

Jane walked over to him and placed her hands in his in an attempt to calm him.“Do you honestly think that this would be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me? I’m stronger than you think. Besides…it all had to have been for something. There’s nothing that this thing can tell me that I haven’t already told myself”, Jane smiled sadly. Roman nodded and hesitantly stepped out of her way.

Jane

The creature before her was incomprehensible. It was all things horror, despair, loneliness, fear, lust and darkness. It was many things and then nothing at all. Limbs, eyes, many teeth—countless teeth. Many faces and orphases. Its shape took up the entirety of it cell. And then in an instant it mirrored her. It looked just like her, like she was standing in a mirror.

“ I’m probably not in the position to make requests but…would it be okay if William left the room as well as the Minotaur.”

“ fine”, said the monster.

The Minotaur picks up William and throws him over his shoulder, leaving out of the room. Now it was just Roman and herself and this ….thing.

“ Come closer sweet little creature…”, said her doppelganger.

She stepped forward just a few short inches from the barrier. Her doppelganger looked her up and down, walking back and forth from one end of the cage to another in a predatory fashion. Jane didn’t not falter her gaze.

“ I was told you like women ? Why is that ?”

“ Like isn’t the word I’d use to describe you creatures. It’s so much more than that. The essence of a woman is sweeter…their secrets—darker. You are the original sinners. Your capacity for corruption knows no bounds.”

“ I see”, says Jane quietly.

“ Jane Ramlal. Trinidad and Tobago…. September 22nd. Family is gone—I presume it’s from the Spanish and British occupation”, her doppleganger assessed in a detached manner.

“ You have a knack for lying don’t you? Your grandfather taught you reading, writing and arithmetic. Very rare for a girl like you…and to have to pretend all those years to not know a thing.”

“ he did.”

“ Such sadness. It wafts off you. Depressive, even as a child. Fun times were short lived. It’s almost like you were doomed from the start.”

Jane doesn’t respond. There was no need to. She couldn’t change what she was born into. There no point in being defensive.

“ You killed a general with your cousin at 10 years old. You put a scotch bonnet in his drink and it burned a hole in his stomach. I would deduct points for that but he wasn’t a very good man either. Seems like you know how to pick the bad apples unlike your dear friend Roman.”

“ It wasn’t right.”

The creature looked at her strangely as if her accountability was unusual.

“ How hard it must have been for you working for high society. Cruel wives and their vulture husbands. The last 13 years of your life have seemed to blur together. Every day is the same. Work, sleep, work, sleep. No enjoyment, no happiness. It’s as if I’m looking at a loop.”

Jane remained unmoved. “ Yes I only just…started living recently.”

<<<<<<<IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO BRIEF MENTIONS OF SA STOP HERE. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>!!!!!!!!

“ And you are no stranger to the violence of men?”

And there it was. Jane froze and closed her eyes slowly in shame. That’s it… the moment she was dreading. The one thing she would never say. The reasons she told the other men to leave.

“ I am more than familiar”, she croaked.

“ Something was taken from you…more than once. And again fairly recently on this boat taking you the America’s. You wish to not exist..?”

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<SAFE.

“ I….”, tears flooded Jane’s eyes. “ I have many times.”

The doppelganger tilted its head. “even now?”

“ Months ago. Not now.”

“ That desire drove you to poke holes into the hull of that ship for months with screws and knives. When the storm came the ship could not withstand it. However, the storm took a violent turn and you were left for dead. You survived by hanging onto driftwood. What a viper you are. You play helpless very well”, the Doppelganger smirked at her.

“ Yes…I did those things”, Jane said stoically. She wasn’t proud of what she did but she felt that she had no other choice. She wouldn’t bother rationalizing it to the creature.

“ You have been given an exit from your suffering. You cannot tell the dark from the light. All around you… endless possibilities. So many women would want what you have. The chance to start over but you are haunted by your past. I give you the sin of trisitia. An old sin long before the seven. Tristia…sorrow..Are you aware of the cure for each sin?”

“ I am not.”

“ For lust it is self control. For gluttony it is temperance. For greed it is charity. For sloth it is diligence. For wrath it is patience. For envy it is kindness. And for pride it is humility. Can you guess what the cure for sorrow is ?”

“ No…”

“ To live. Jane Ramlal…I sentence you to live.”

Jane looked thoughtfully at her doppleganger. The last few months had proven to her that she didn’t know what it meant to live until recently. It wasn’t just surviving like she’d always known. Living…enjoying life. Eating food when you’re not hungry. Not caring about how rich a dessert tastes. Buying clothes for fun. Listening to music and swaying to it. Relaxing and not feeling guilty about it. Being present enough to laugh at a joke. Being admired and not feeling unworthy for it. That was living. That was what she’d been missing for so long. “ Have I…given you enough ?”

“ I suppose. You are worthy of this treasure. You may have the key”, says the creature in a bold flat tone. It shifts back into its original form. Carefully it used their hand to reach inside of one of its many mouths and pulled out a key with a long chain. It placed the key into the slot box, pushing it to the outside. Jane picked up the key and held it in her palm. It was a mortice shape.

“ Only you may wear it. If you give the key to anyone else it will destroy them. Now that you have this key there will be many creatures that do not want you to have it. Keep it safe and do not lose it.”

“ I will protect it”, Jane placed the chain around her neck and tucked it into her shirt.

She turned to Roman and saw such a tired and withered expression on his face. It was as if being here had aged him 10 years.

“ Let’s get out of here”, she said.

“ Goodbyeeee friendsssss!”, the creature hissed.

Roman makes no protest as he leads her out of the room. The Minotaur, William, and Adhar all stood quietly by the stairs. They gathered their weapons and made way for the boat. The bull led them back out to their ship without so much as a goodbye. She walked up the ramp and looked back at the Minotaur standing in the entrance.

Magic was real. It was as real as rain. And it was dark. This..she knew to be true now.

An exhaustion came over her so heavily. She stumbled into Roman’s cabin, kicking off her boots. He trailed behind her placing his weapons on the same table they strategized at. William and Adhar left to go be alone. Truthfully she didn’t want to be alone after something so triggering and sensitizing.

She’d never seen Roman cry and his nose was still red from it. She studied his face thinking about all the things he did. She felt not a single ounce of judgment towards him. He was a bit more morally complex than she initially thought. There was a time in his life that he was unrecognizable compared to the man before her. She understood it all. She could accept that anger for his past. She was still angry about her own past—sin or not.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes before he pulled a hidden stash of rum. He sat out two glasses and she chugged the first serving. The second glass she poured on her own, filling it all the way to the rim. Alcohol never really made the pain stop but it slowed down her thoughts. She took another burning gulp.

“ Easy….”, Roman sighed across the table. She sat the cup down and suddenly the tears came. They racked over her heavily and violently. She muffled the sounds with her face in her hands. Roman reached across the table and grabbed one of her hands.

“ It’s alright dove”, he whispered.

“ It’s not alright. I feel. I feel…violated. I feel open. I hate this feeling.”, she sniffled.

“ We all do.”

“ I was never going to tell you what happened to me. Especially on that ship.”

“ Why….”

“ Because men pretend to sympathize…to empathize. They pretend to be good people but they’re not. You tell them your past and they’ll be sure to give you double of it. To make it hurt worse.”

Roman didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure how to.

“ I…have spent so many years trying to come to peace with it. Then the ship happened and it unraveled me. I don’t know if I’ll ever be whole enough again to give you what you want.”

Roman frowned in confusion.“ What do I want ?”

“ What all men want. Real sex. Not whatever game that was a week ago.”

“ Game? That’s how you saw it ?”

“ What could be better than taking the pleasure you want as opposed to spending all your time giving it ? I came and you got nothing”, Jane scoffed, wiping her face.

“ You’re approaching this like some type of payment Jane. Sex isn't some transaction—at least not how I see it. Not with you. I don’t pleasure you in hopes that you do it back. I do it because I enjoy it and nothing more.”

“ I don’t believe you”, she shrugged.

Roman was dumbfounded. Absolutely dumbfounded. He thought he made his intentions clear.

“ What aren’t I saying to make this better? What am I missing ? How do I take this pain from you ?��

“ You can't, it's already done.”

“ Jane..”

“ I can’t….I can’t go all the way with you right now. I don’t know if I’ll ever enjoy real sex again. And what’s even more maddening is that I experience a desire for you that supersedes any other man I’ve encountered. I crave you in a way that is foreign to me. But I cannot give you the very thing that I’m supposed to. What any woman would. I’m trapped in my body—in my desire. I’m fucked up. I’m…broken Roman.”

“ Don’t say that….”

“ I am.. it’s true.”

“ It’s not true. I want whatever you give me. I want you. There’s so many other options on the table for us. It doesn’t have to be just ONE way Jane. However and whatever we decide to do is for us only. There’s no guideline on this sort of thing. I’m in no rush.”

“ You told me that if I chose you I would be guilty of crime by association. I’m telling you if you choose me—I may not be able to fulfill you sexually in the way that you need. At least not in this moment. That could be days, months, weeks, years. It could be a lifetime if we make it that long.”

“ I’m telling you that there are other ways. I am more than fulfilled right now. I’m fulfilled by your gaze. The touch of your hand. Whatever you’re comfortable with is what I’m comfortable with.”

“ You say that now but what happens when what I give you is not enough anymore? There could be someone else, someone more willing. Someone more beautiful.”

“ You must think my brain is located in my cock”, Roman chuckled.

“ I…I just want it all out of the table.”

“ No seriously. You’ve got to stop with these generalized statements about men. I know the horrors of men. Every person who looks like you and me understands those horrors. What I can say is that I know men don’t always have the best representatives. A good portion of them are shit—even I can agree. And for about a decade of my life I was one of them. But people do change Jane. I changed. I changed even more when I met you. Being able to call you mine is enough. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I will never pressure you. I meant it when I said you’ve paid your dues. I’m not here to cause you anymore pain. Neither one of us needs that now. Especially not after today”, Roman urged.

She carefully took in everything he said. The conviction in which he spoke, the sincerity in his eyes… he was telling the truth. Her gut told her so.

Roman continued. “ You and me—you especially, have been through hell and back. Let us have this one thing to ourselves, for ourselves. Leave the expectations behind you. I’m not your dictator. I'm not here to tell you what you should or should not do as a woman. I just want this, I want us. Nothing more.”

Jane’s face wrinkled in confusion. Roman was a strange bird. Any other man would have walked away—at least the ones she encountered previously. “ That’s not very traditional, you know ? You really truly want this…all my darkness? All my pain? It’s not too much for you ?”

“ In case you haven’t noticed, I’m nowhere near a traditional man. I could ask you the same but who else would understand me like you? You heard about all those things I did in my past and you still look at me like I hold the moon and stars. Like me—an ole’ pirate, has the right to cast judgment over you. I want you and anything that comes with it. The good and the bad.”

Roman gets up from his chair and walks over to her, crouching down to where she sat. Her arms leaned over his shoulders and she wrapped them around him tightly in a deep decompressing embrace. How often do they hug?? Not often, if even at all especially for it to have felt so good. She revels in the feeling, confused on how something so simple had taken so much weight off her shoulders. He pulls away and cradles her face in his hands.

“ I will take your darkness and turn it sweet. This I vow to you. No secret of yours should be burdened alone”, he says.

“ Okay”, mutters wiping a stray tear from her cheek. Why did she always end up crying in his arms? Why was it so easy too?

“ Okay”, he chuckles. He kisses her lips gently and sweetly. Like she’s made of glass. She doesn’t mind it. She doesn’t mind being doted on and revered as precious especially after such a hard conversation.

“ What can I do to make your frown turn upside down ?”

“ I need a hot bath”, she murmured.

“ Okay I can do that . Any other requests ?”

“ More of what you made me earlier.”

“ ahh. The Oka l’a ?”

“ Yes please”, she mumbled face first into his shoulder. All that crying had made her sleepy.

“ Your wish is my command.”

Roman

Much to Roman’s dismay, they stopped on the deserted island with the rotting boat for barnacle scraping. It was necessary to ensure that the ship continued to travel at its highest speed. Barnacle scraping was one of the more annoying facets of being a crew member. In moments like this he was thankful to be the Captain. All that sand and salt water battering against someone while they scraped away with all their might—it wasn’t fun. Rory and Thomas were on duty. He watched them scrape against the hall of the boat, flinging the barnacles into the sand.

He needed to touch land and recenter his thoughts. His mind kept wandering back to all the venom that the creature spat. The conversation with Jane played on a loop in his mind. He had come to the realization that every action he made with Jane was in protest to all the beliefs she had about men. It would be his job to show her better everyday. It wasn’t a hard job but she was resistant to her prior beliefs. He was patient with her.

He let a wave of warmth fill his lungs from his pipe as he stared at his ship from the beach. Should he feel guilty for his anger towards the monarchy? It wasn’t just Augusta that caused him pain. There were many people like her. However, he was angry quite a lot. It was something he had only recently gotten a hold of 5 years ago. He found other cathartic ways to deal with it. He’d gotten into reading again and collecting cigars. He’d even gotten a fucking parrot but every now and then his mind would wonder.

He’d rethink arguments and injustices and dream up something better. A desperate need to be the savior he needed for himself. The thirst for vengeance. The occurring nightmares did him no favours. Sure, he was remorseful of the violence that ensued. His treck to the top of the food chain had been bloody—sometimes unnecessarily. He was bitter for many years. Still, if Roman had no choice but to be removed from his family he would choose being a pirate always. He never wanted the life of a monarch.

This constant battle of being a fierce figurehead and a the gentlest version of himself for Jane was a catch 22. One side of him needed the other, yet his line of work contradicted the very thing he wanted to give her. How much longer could this go on? He would never out run the cruel man he used to be. But he had to make space for the man Jane needed.

The ache for her returned, dull and throbbing like a maddening tooth ache. Ever since he’d nearly left her it seemed like there was a thin long string between them. If he got too far she’d pop into his head and somehow he’d return. He’d have to head back soon. But he needed this fucking smoke.

He undressed her for her bath in his room. She was stunning while clothed and even more stunning naked. It seemed quite redundant after the intensity of their discussion. However she seemed to be fairly comfortable. He kissed her intensely before he left, he could still feel it on his mouth. He liked the way she used his space, it made the cabin feel “lived in”. He could see himself shutting out the world and imagining the captain's quarters as a house on land. She’d be busy doing tasks around the space like a house. There would not be a roaring sea outside and he’d have her all to himself. He would soon suggest the idea of her moving her things into his cabin. There was no use in being apart.

He turned around to look at the boat, realizing he had strayed further away than he should have. He threw his cigar in the sand and squashed it with his foot. He watched the embers burn out in the sand. A distant yell snaps him out of his thoughts.

He can see Thomas stumbling backwards in the distance before getting up and lunging forward. Maybe a fight broke out? Roman starts a light jog back to the boat. Another yell and Adhar appears to be swinging his sword around—fighting? Roman was sprinting now. He dreaded the thought of secret attack but how? They were in the middle of nowhere.

He ran to the other side of the boat to find Thomas sparing with what could only be described as a skeleton. A skeleton?

“ Don’t just stand there! It’s strong !”, Thomas choked. It took Roman a moment to actually process what he was looking at. Not even the creatures in the prison confused him this much. The Skeleton had its forearm pressed against Thomas's neck. Roman grabbed the back of its head and swung it effortlessly to the ground. The bones shattered apart. The two just stand there panting while looking at the pile of bones.

“ How the fuck did you manage to let a skeleton choke you?”, Roman turned to Thomas.

Thomas rubbed his sore throat. “ I’m telling you it was kind of strong. And it’s bones hurt. Bloody thing got me while my back was turned”, he hissed. Suddenly Thomas’s eyes widened. Roman turns around to find that the skeleton had reanimated. This time he pulled out his sword and slashed across it’s sternum with his sword, causing it to fall again.

“ Bloody hell….”, Roman groaned as the Skeleton made yet another attempt and rebuild itself.

“ Just keep it discombobulated. It can’t hurt you if it can’t put itself back together”, he gave his sword to Thomas and stalked back to the ramp.

The top deck was hell. Pirates' backs were being ridden by skeletons in Tang dynasty armor. Rory blasted through a group of skeletons with a roar sending bone parts flying everywhere. Adhar was sword fighting with two skeletons at the same time. Williams fought at the edge of the ship sending bones flying into the sand. Caden used a femur as a weapon warding off approaching skeletons. Each time a skeleton was knocked down they’d reanimate and come back for more.

“ Anybody got a fucking match ?”, Williams yelled with a pipe in his mouth flying a bone down the beach.

“ Don’t even bother they won’t burn, OUCH!”, Earl yelped as a Skeleton bit his ear.

The skeletons that managed to get on the ship held Dao’s. Some of them were rusted by sea water making sharp, rusted, jagged weapons that could potentially kill someone. That’s how Roman ended up in a fight with an armored Skeleton holding a spear. One for the story books.

Jane

She actually didn’t mean to fall asleep in his bed but he insisted that he had work to do. To her surprise she woke up to yelling. She quickly grabbed her pistol off Roman’s table and busted the French doors open to find utter chaos. Skeletons were everywhere and they were angry? Roman fought somewhere in the middle of the deck, throwing Skeleton heads in the air and kicking them off the boat.

An especially tall Skeleton in thick black armor came stomping towards her. Her eyes widened and she lifted her gun at its head, shooting at it in three short bursts. She shot the head, chest and pelvis. It paused looking at her momentarily before collapsing onto itself. Roman turned around, nose flared in a heavy irritation. He storms over to her.

“ Get back in there and close the door”, he hissed.

“ What ?! No. I just killed that thing. It looks like you guys need the help!”, she gawked.

“ It’s not safe t-— wait”, Roman punched the head off a skeleton creeping up behind Jane.

“ They’re trying to stab people with rusty knives. I’ll be damned if you die because a bag of bones shanked you. Go back into my room and lock the door”, Roman demanded. Another Skeleton attempted to swipe at Jane with a spear. He snatched the spear from the Skeleton’s arms causing the bones to disconnect from it. Now an armless Skelton was trying to bite him.

“ I’m fighting. We talked about this. You said I was perfectly capable of defen— HEY!”, Jane scoffs as Roman picks her and throws her over his shoulder like a bag of flour. She scrambles against his hold, beating against his back but it’s pointless.

Roman storms through the French doors and plops her on the bed. She takes a pillow and throws it at him. When she realizes he’s heading for the door she sprints after him. She's a second slower than him and he manages to trap her inside.

Roman

He wraps his belt around the double door handles and places a sword in between them to prevent her escape. He can hear her yelling and beating from the other side.

“ William!”

“ Aye Cap’n?”, he turns to Roman, face drenched with sweat.

“ Do not let Jane leave that room. Do not let anything enter that room. She can’t come out.”

“ Aye”, William stalked over to the door with a pistol standing in front of it.

“ JACKASS!!”, she shouts from the other side of the door.

10 minutes into this “fight” a skeleton had actually managed to slash the skin on his arm. It did nothing but piss him off more. Thomas had retreated back onto the boat with a Skeleton biting his ankle like one of those rat terriers.

“ We need to get off this bloody island!” Adhar yelled in exhaustion. There were over 100 Skeletons reanimating themselves with some rising from the under the sand, crawling from the rotten boat and even coming out of the tree line.

“ Fuck this. Raise the sails. Cortez! Get us out!” Roman yelled, pushing another skeleton down the side of the boat.

They made sail again, throwing the bones overboard. The reanimated bones on the shoreline tried following the boat but fell apart once the water reached their knees. What was left of the skeletons was dumped in the water.

The men sat there panting on the wind deck. This was somehow the perfect way to end a shitty day. Some of them had bite marks, cuts and bruises. Others just looked disheveled.

“ Let me out of here you NOW!!”, he heard Jane screech from the other side of the door. Roman painfully peeled himself from the floor and untied the French doors. Jane swung the door open and pushed Roman. He barely stumbled. Her eyes widened when she saw his arm.

“ You’re hurt”, she held his arm.

“ Just a scratch”.

“ You’re bleeding onto the fucking floor. Earl!.”, She pulled him inside the cabin and sat him down.

Earl came and assessed his arm.“Superficial though I’m sure very uncomfortable. You won’t need any stitches; the cut was clean. Why don’t we get you an astringent, some ointment and a bandage?”

“ I can help him. Why don’t you go relax Earl. I’m sure it’s been a long day for you.”

Earl thanked her and gave her the wound supplies before leaving, likely to go assess his own bite. After a quick wash up, Roman sat at the table with Jane on her knees, pressed witch hazel against the wound. She rinsed it cleaned and dabbed bag balm on the very top.

“ You know you might not have gotten than cut if you actually let me help”, she sighed wrapping his arm with a bandage.

“ It was no big deal.”

“ Oh really? If it was no big deal then why didn’t you let me help?”, she bit.

“ Rusty. knives.”

“ I don’t. care”, she mimicked.

Jane rolled her eyes and sat the bandage roll on the table. Roman unexpectedly pulled her forward in between his legs, leaning over her just inches above her face.

Roman smirked. “ Have I ever told you how cute you are when you’re mad?”

He leaned down and kissed her mouth firmly in a long hum. She stiffened and then softened, swatting at his chest as he pulled away. He chuckled at the pout on her face.

“ You’re not funny”, she whined with annoyance.

“ Maybe not but I have to admit, after all the shit that happened today I never guessed I would be nearly stabbed by a dead guy.”

“ Well…that thing did say that other creatures won’t want us to have the key . I just hope nothing else comes up. Nothing we can’t handle at least”, Jane sighed.

“ Whatever it is we will get through it.”

“ Not if you lock me away”, she frowns.

“ Alright fine. Next time I promise but not if I sense your imminent death.”

“ Fine but you’re going to have to make it up to me.”

“ How ?”

“ I don’t know.”

“ I could always give you a kiss.”

“ You just gave me a kiss?”

“ Not that kind of kiss darling.”

She yawns in an exaggerated manner. “ Maybe with breakfast. I’m exhausted.” She stands putting the pound supplies back in the aid kit.

“ Then… I bid you a goodnight Miss Ramlal.”

“ Good night you stubborn ass”, she drawled on her way to the door.

“ One of these days you’re going to have to move your things in with mine. it’s only right ”, he called back to her.

“ In the midst of you making it up to me, maybe you’ll give me your proposition”, she winked at the door before turning the corner.

Roman accepted that challengeand went to bed with a stiff cock.

Jane

Thanks to her nap earlier she was up tonight. She read, she had a snack, she even tried on new dresses she got back in Port Plado before they left. She was bored. It also didn’t help that ever since their exchange she’d thought alot about that “convincing”. She should have taken the offer.

A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. She gets up pulling on her robe and answers the door. Roman is standing there wish disheveled hair, opened shirt, just trousers.

“ May I come in ?” He asks quietly.

“ Of course”, she moved over to let him sit on her bed.

“ How’d you know I was awake?”

“ I could see a light under your door.”

“ Oh. Right ”, she smiled pulling her robe around herself.

“ feeling okay ?”

“ yes I’m fine. Just a bit restless”, she looked at his trousers and could see a dint. Her belly flipped in excitement but she tried to hide it. He seemed tired.

“May I…..touch you ?”

Fuck it…

“ Ye—-.” before she can even finish the word he ambushes her, covering her mouth with his mouth. He pushes up her dress. They fell backwards on the bed. He pins her left leg to her stomach, keeping her open to reveal her glistening center. He licks three fingers and places them at her clit swirling them in tight firm circles. Her eyes nearly cross as her head falls back. He's so big she can’t close her legs. He props her other leg over his shoulder for better access. She has to cover her mouth from the sudden stimulation. She’s audibly wet which gives away the arousal she’s had for the last few hours. He pulls back to spit on her cunt and then resumes with those firm circles.

“ Roman ”, she sighs.

“Jane”, he mocks quietly.

“ What are you doing ?”, she asks lazily. She knew exactly what but her mind didn’t have enough time to calculate the last 30 seconds.

“ You really do have such a pretty cunt”, he grunted against her mouth. She just sighs softly against them, closing her eyes and relishing in the warmth of his fingers.

“ I’ve been thinking about how it tastes ever since that night. I told you…there are so many ways to get my point across. You haven’t an inkling on what truly satisfies me. I can’t be satifised- won’t be satisfied, unless I can see you crumble in my fucking hands.” His tone was rough and sharper than usual. She didn’t mind it at all. He pulls back to gently but firmly slap her cunt and it ignites all of her pleasure centers. She gasps, Instinctively closing her legs. To no avail she remains wide open to him. Her back bends off the bed as he continues rubbing her clit.

“ Stay right there. You’re doing such a good job”, he whispered. She’s whimpering behind her hand now. He looks down to see a sticky arousal forming around his fingers.

“ You see, if you were in my bed you could yell as loud as you want. Think about that next time because I plan on doing this again”, he sucked her neck. Her eyes rolled around her skull as she gripped his bicep. She can feel her nails biting into his skin. It just makes his hand move faster.

“ Roman…sensitive”, she warned.

“ I hope you know that you’re not getting up from under me until you’re properly ruined”, he chuckles darkly. He flashes his teeth and he can see another dreadful wave of arousal come over her features.

“ You’re not ready to go all the way, that’s fine. I can take that. Take all the time you need but I will watch you cum. Whether I do it for you or you do it yourself. I will watch you shatter every single time Jane”, he murmured against her temple. Her brows scrunch and her lips tremble into a pout as she feels herself coming close to the edge. A true delirium was seeping in as she neared her impending climax. That stage where she’d do or say anything to cum. No matter how bat shit crazy it was. She’d recite the Spanish alphabet if it meant he kept going.

“ Yes ...yes only you—make me come”, she whined hazily. Her entire body had broken out into a light sweat. Properly wanton and consumed by desire. Not caring about her appearance. Raw pleasure.

“ Only me, yes. Say it again”, he says with another quick slap to her cunt.

“ Onl-Oh fuuckk”, she squeaked.

“ Tell me all the filth going on in your head right now. Tell me and I’ll lick you a bit. Tell me what you were thinking about before I came in here”, he taunts in her ear.

“ Y-your tongue. Your shouldersss-shit!”, she moaned.

“ What a good girl you are..”, he pulls away and laps at her clit. His tongue is pleasantly cooler than her heated sensitive skin, which gives her a gush of relief. Yet as quickly as she relaxed, she tensed up at the feeling of his tongue. It poked, flicked, lapped and dipped at the entirety of her cunt, pushing her closer to her release. She was seconds away from coming undone right then but he pulled away to watch her sex. She’s drenched down to the sheets. The longer he prolongs her pleasure the wetter she gets. He licks into her awaiting mouth.

“ You like my tongue?”, he mumbles against her lips.

“ Yes I love it I love it love it”, she chants desperately into the quiet of his mouth. His fingers become more frantic.

He shuts her up here and there with lip locks, sucking on her tongue to keep her at bay. Or he’d pull away just to rest his forehead on hers and watch the way her face breaks up and contorts. H finds her devastating in the height of pleasure—a feast for the eyes. He kisses her forehead as she hiccups underneath him, becoming desperate for reprieve.

“ More ?”, he asks her. She neither nods nor denies, just stares at him with pleading eyes. He pulls his hand away.

“ Open your mouth and say it”, he says firmly.

“ Yes please”, she gushes desperately.

She bucks her hips. He takes his thumb into his mouth, sucks it and places it right on her clit, swirling in fast circles now. Her pleasure becomes more narrowed and more precise. Her head falls back but he uses his other hand to pull the back of her head up, forcing her to look at him.

“ Right here. Right at me”, he says. Forehead to forehead she can see his pupils dilate.

“ I’m- I- I ”, she whimpers. Her words fail her. She’s so close she can taste it.

“ Shh. Just give it to me darling”, he soothed shushing her.

She felt it was her duty to describe to him how good this felt. How mad she was driving her. She almost pitied him for not being able to feel this intensely. So good so…

“ Look at that. So… wet. You see what happens when you keep from it. It’s weeping Jane”, he taunts.

God his fingers... Holy shit his fucking fingers. In her right mind she’d debate if they were better than his tongue. She can only nod as her eyes roll into the back her skull drunkenly. Just what he wanted.

She fists the front of his shirt stretching it towards her, closing the rest of the distance between them.

“ I’m going to cum”, she croaks out in a panic from the force of which she can feel her orgasm sprinting towards her. She imagines it like a train. This would be a big one —just as big as the party if not bigger. She holds onto his wrist in an attempt to brace herself. Eyes wide and filled with worry and desire. There were over 100 pirates just outside that door and the only thing on her mind was how hard she was about to come.

And then her orgasm briefly paused in it’s pursuit of her and she was frozen at her peak for seconds longer than she’s used to. She wants to screech at the intensity. It was agonizing. It was deliciously agonizing. Her climax had her by her throat and it was nearly unbearable.

“ Go ahead, Dove. Don’t need my permission”, Roman whispered softly.

And his words dislodge any delays and fuck her mind. What follows is nothing but pure ecstasy. She contemplates pushing against his chest or biting him to withstand the force. All she can muster up is the bend of her back off the bed. He smashes his mouth to hers but there’s no need. The release is so intense she can barely make a sound. Her hearing gives out and the room fills with dots.

“ Breathe”, he whispers. She goes limp from the lack of air she denied herself.Seconds later he pulls his hand away.

The moment a gust of air pushes past her mouth he eats it, swallowing it down for himself and pulling her into a dizzying sloppy wet kiss. She’s panting heavily looking at him like a crazed man. Then they both look down to see her drenched center glistening against the lantern light.

“ Inside, okay ?”, He asks. She nods.

He gently takes two fingers and pushes them inside of her, feeling her slippery release. The squelch of his fingers brings an inner warmth to her cheeks that thankfully can’t be seen. He then pulls them out and watches her intently as he sucks on them. He attempts to swipe at her clit with his thumb again but she bucks against him, shaking her head in warning. Too much.

He chuckles at her expression and looks down hungrily between her legs. He takes a moment to pull those lips apart to see the wet inside of her. She's pulsating, flashes of her climax still seizing her flesh. He pulls his hand away to grab her chin and kiss her. She groans, feeling the heat nearly return to her core from him.

“ Can you taste yourself on my tongue ?”

She nods almost dumbly. Did she have room for another orgasm?

“ I like the way you taste. If I was in a crueler mood I’d pin you to this bed and eat your cunt until you started wailing. Push you past the point of sensitivity. I’ll save it for another day.”

She’s gobsmacked. Center out and he just looks back down at her.

“ I’m just getting one last look before I go into my cabin and tug on my cock with my fingers in my mouth”, he says in the most casual tone.

She can still see a tint in pants. He begins to pull away.

“ You…you could do it here”, she pants. He pauses.

She leans forward and grabs him through his pants. His eyes closed slowly as if he was hoping she wouldn’t.

“ You said—.”

“ There are other ways, you said so yourself.”

“ Are you sure you’re ready for that ?”

“ I am.”

“ Absolutely sure ?”, he presses.

“ Yes I’m absolutely sure”, she drawls.

“Okay. If you want me to stop, just say the word.”, he slowly reached down to his pants and pulled them down to his knees. He was bare under his trousers which caused his length to pop out and hit his belly button. Her eyes widened.

The length alone was just as concerning as was the girth. She was happy to have chosen a patient man because she would need it. But it was perfect. Tawny colored, with a thick vein in the center underneath. The head was flushed and wet with his own arousal. He took off his shirt. She noticed a slight curve to it when she reached forward and pulled him towards her. His skin was hot and throbbing, twitching in her hand. It almost made her giggle with how reactive his body seemed to her touch.

She pulled her hand away, dipping her hands between her still soaked thighs and spread it onto the base of him. His head fell back, looking at the ceiling in restraint. “Christ, fuck”, he spat. She moved her hand up and down his length.

“ You can fuck my hand…”, she giggled. Something about the sentence seemed silly to her but he didn’t laugh. Instead, he eagerly took her invitation, drawing his hips back to his tip and pushing into her hand. His eyes moved back and forth, up and down her body. She licked her other palm and pressed it firmly around his base, allowing him to use both of her hands..

Truthfully she needed two hands for his length alone. He went faster, which caused the bed to shift resulting in her bouncing. Her breasts bounced up and down with each thrust which nearly sent him over the edge.

He became more eager. It was so obvious he wanted a quick release and she was happy to give that to him. She looked down to see the squelch of arousal in her hand as his cock appeared and reappeared around her fist.

She reached down carefully and cupped his balls. Roman took a fist between his teeth as she massaged them slowly. His composure broke.

“ Tell me where you want it”, he huffed, thrusting into her fist like a cunt.

“ You decide”, she grinned mischievously up at him.

He came with a grunt and settled for her stomach and breasts. His release shocked her. It was the most beautiful thing to see him come undone. It didn’t push her away, it drew her in. The way every muscle in his body seemed to get bigger, the way his stomach contracted, the way his mouth hung open, his eyes, the grunting. She loved every single moment of it. It took her a few moments to notice the wetness between her chest and on her breasts. She looked down and swiped his arousal off her nipple with her finger, placing it in her mouth. He visibly shuddered.

“ You taste really good”, she smiled up at him. He leaned down for another kiss.

She no longer needed any convincing.

————

Hey guys I’m back and feeling better. New chapter by Sunday at the latest.

#spotify #roman reigns #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x reader #the tribal chief #wwe #wwe smackdown #pirate au #roman reigns au #the head of the table

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finniestoncrane · 2 years ago

Note

Fluffy Socks for Dano and Gotham Riddlers. We know the canon ones, but what about Finnieverse's? Do they have any extras untold?

Destructive Habits

Riddler Headcanons finnieverse akhkjhasd ;-; ANYWAY yeah i had a few already but it was fun thinking up some more for them (also i did all the beans i had hcs for related to this oops!) request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: some sexual things! mostly just discussions about problematic behaviour and thoughts

arkham

i don't include it in a lot of my stuff, but i imagine he excessively smokes, like an inordinate and "how are you not dead yet" amount

he's got that obvious tendency towards alienating people, pushing them away so he can't be forced to experience feelings

i know he says that he makes himself perfectly nutritionally balanced meals, but that's such a weird thing to say unless you're an idiot who refuses to admit that they forget to eat, which he does, all the time

and he doesn't get enough sleep, on purpose. it's become like a game to him. how long can he go this time?

gotham

he's obviously got a tendency to be clingy and obsessive, but i imagine it could get to a point where it becomes co-dependency, which isn't great when it's someone who doesn't even know you exist

ignoring his mental health is also a bit of an issue for him. like he's either unable to recognise that he needs help or admitting that his very intelligent brain might have something that needs to be fixed would be too difficult

i also wouldn't put it past him to engage in impulsive/wreckless behaviours without thinking them through, just to see if he can do that. he'd usually so proper and organised, which he's been mocked for before. so the temptation to just go wild is there

young justice

oh my sweet beloved, so smart and ambitious. and yet, he suffers from the worst efforts in procrastination, mostly because he's afraid of failure so he'd rather put off doing something that complete it and do it wrong, let it be schrodinger's task

he's also very bad for being negative about himself to the point where those views have been ingrained in his little head and he believes them wholeheartedly

capullo

the man is a walking destructive habit, but let's start with his proclivity for engaging in risky sexual behaviours, so sex with people he barely knows, sex without protection, ignorance towards sexual health and sti testing, practising kinks without the knowledge or patience. it's a nightmare

he's also a fan of forced incompetence, preferring to act like he can't do anything so that someone else has to wait on him every minute of the day

look, i don't like it, but i think he would cheat on partners, especially if he was in a happy relationship. anything to make sure that he's not pleased in life, y'know?

which, related to that, he just hurts people he loves, or that he could love. that purposeful isolation in a bid to avoid all feelings he isn't comfortable with, which are all the positive ones, unforuntately

dano

oh, the sweet baby has been lured in by gambling and gaming, and for him they go hand in hand. he'll get lost in a video game for hours, dedicating his life to it. and he'll waste a lot of money on it, just to get better or to have the newest skins/upgrades etc. and in life, he gamifies everything, to the point where he'll waste time, money and effort on things that he should be able to just leave alone or ignore. and with the lootbox culture, he's found himself also intrigued by gambling, which he's certain you can be good at. it doesn't come down to luck, apprently

he'll ignore happiness in order to wallow in self-pity, because he's more comfortable with that. he knows what he's doing when he's at home, moping around and lamenting about how no one loves him or cares for him. trying to find love or affection is scary, so he won't do it

and, a typical chronically online boy, he is addicted to doom-scrolling. he'll purposefully seek out horrible news and avoid the good stuff, and he'll compare himself to everyone else he sees online just to bolster the self-pity and poor self-image

#finnie writes #riddler x reader #riddler x you #riddler headcanon #gotham riddler #arkham riddler #young justice riddler #dano riddler #zero year riddler #riddler #the riddler

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maybankiara · 11 months ago

Text

PHONE SWAP (DREW STARKEY)

23: A CASE OF THE BUTTERFLIES

summary: Addie Mallory is just your average economics student when she meets Drew Starkey at her local Target in Atlanta. This is where the story is supposed to end – a short meeting and a picture to go – except Drew accidentally leaves with the wrong phone, and the story begins, instead. w/c: 2.6k a/n: marianne has an update regarding her time with tom's family, one which makes addie reflect on her own relationship. read on wattpad previous part | series masterlist

‘I swear to god, if you decline ANOTHER call, I will—’

‘Hi, Marianne, my best friend, I’ve missed you lots too. Penny for your thoughts?’

‘You ignored seven of my calls.’

‘I was out with the family and I wanted to take a bit of a break from my phone. You know, breaking bad habits and all.’

‘Now you're stealing my lines, too?’

‘No, feel free to keep that one, actually. … What’s up? Everything good?’

‘Don’t sound so concerned. … Sorry, I didn't mean that sarcastically and it came out— Anyway, I’ve been here for nearly a week now and I’m starting to think it actually was the right decision.’

‘I thought we already figured that one out?’

‘Yeah, but... It’s THE right decision. It’s what Tom and I needed. You know, a bit of family stress, a bit of new stuff, all of that. I think it brought out what we care about the most.’

‘Oh, that’s great! Seriously. What happened?’

‘I don't even know, that’s the weirdest thing! It wasn’t like a big deal or anything. Wait, I feel a bit weird talking like this, and I know you're having a lovely time with your family as well and I want to hear all about it but I’m currently realising that the past few months of struggling with my relationship are over and I’m a little bit over the mo—’

‘Breathe, Marianne. We’ve got all the time in the world.’

‘Right. Make sure you’re decent, because we’re switching to FaceTime.’

The screen flickers and Addie sees herself staring back, with a little notification popping up waiting to be confirmed. Addie hesitates for a brief moment – she sees herself, in her childhood bedroom, one that’s hardly changed since she was seventeen. There’s still popsters of indie rock bands she used to like plastered on the wall behind her, and the single bed still covered in the same heart-patterned covers she’s had since she upgraded from a kid bed to a proper-sized one. Sun is peeking through the window over her desk, reflecting off the thin sheet of snow covering the grass outside. So many memories and forgotten days are written on the walls Addie can no longer read.

‘You waiting till I die and get buried, or what?’

Addie presses the confirm button, apologising for keeping her waiting.

Marianne, as is customary, looks nothing short of cute – with her ginger hair in two little loose braids (‘I look like Heidi when I wear my hair like this,’ Marianne once said, and just about flipped upon learning Addie had never heard of the girl let alone the book) and one of those smiles that makes her dimples pop and her eyes shine.

‘Christ,’ says Addie, ‘you really are happy.’

Lounging on what seems to be a couch in the middle of a rustic living room, Marianne squeals, then immediately covers her face with the hand not holding the phone. ‘I feel like I’m being judged right now.’

‘Maybe a little bit.’

‘I know you’ll think I’m exaggerating—’

‘Let me make my own opinion before you put words into my mouth.’

Marianne peeks between her fingers. ‘Wow. That was very harsh.’

‘Sorry, I’m tired,’ Addie admits with a sigh. ‘I’ve had some Zoom calls with people from work that fucked me right off. I’m listening, I promise, and I’m not going to treat you like you’re Raiden on an annoying day.’

‘Great. Don’t care enough for that reference. Tom and I have been having a great time, and Addie, honestly, I feel—I feel—girly.’

Addie laughs. ‘There’s nothing wrong with feeling girly. I love it.’

‘Yeah, but I’m not talking, like—I’m not talking about feeling cute in a dress, or whatever. I’m talking about that bubbly feeling that makes you feel like you’re floating, and everything is funny and joyful, and you just want to hold onto your person every moment you can, and just want to wear cute little things and I don’t know, pick flowers or something.’

Addie feigns a gasp. ‘Dear Lord, I think you may have caught it…’

‘Caught what?’

‘The worst illness of all… the honeymoon stage.’

There’s a groan from the other end of the phone, then a chuckle, and Marianne makes herself a little more comfortable on the couch. ‘That happens in the early stages. That’s what you and Holden are in.’

‘Nope. Doesn’t work like that. It can happen whenever, and Holden and I haven’t been in it yet.’

‘Hm.’ Marianne squints at the camera. ‘Maybe you’re right. God, have I really caught a case of the butterflies?’

‘Let me be the judge of it and tell me what happened.’

And so Marianne does.

It’s a short story made long, and the gist of it, that Addie later shares with her family, is this: they fought on the way there, as was to be expected—Marianne’s words—until the very moment they stood on the porch of the house he grew up in. One of them, and Marianne is no longer sure who, suggested they start a truce. Instead of arguing, they write down the issue and discuss it in private, or before going to bed, and they’re on their best behaviour every other given moment.

This was precisely where Marianne went on a big tangent about how it made them realise that so many things they normally would’ve argued about were meaningless at the literal end of the day – how putting things aside allowed them to enjoy the moment more, and not worry. It was written down and it was out of their mind, and it nearly always turned out to be not worth bringing up when they would have.

It also happens that Tom’s parents are exceptionally lovely, seating her down at the couch within minutes to show her all the photos of baby Tom, all with a special kind of delight reserved for Marianne and Marianne alone. It helped her understand Tom and how he shows love a little more. Seeing him interact with his family made her aware of aspects of him she used to take for granted, and see places where she’d gone wrong, where miscommunication and misunderstandings happened.

‘How did you manage to figure so much shit out?’ Addie asks. ‘It’s been a week.’

Marianne shrugs. ‘I guess I’ve just been paying more attention.’

As the story continues, they spent the weekend at his parents’ holiday lodge, some half-hour drive from the house. They didn’t argue once, but they spent the whole time enjoying each other’s company, in more ways than Addie would care to share with her family. Marianne then took the car and brought him to the Christmas Markets in a nearby town, ones that his parents had told her they used to go to when he was younger, and Marianne said she’d never seen someone love her as much as Tom did in that moment.

Marianne sighs and Addie can see her reliving the moment, looking off into the distance with the tiniest of smiles in the corner of her mouth, slowly growing.

‘I don’t know how to explain it, Addie,’ she says, leaning her cheek against the side of the couch. ‘At the lodge, we talked about everything. It was so easy to talk. I don’t think it’s ever been that easy to be so honest, so open. It was like we finally realised what we have and just how much more we could have if we just tried a little bit more. That’s what Tom said, you know.’

‘What is?’

‘That we could be great. That he sees me with his parents, at his home, and that it feels like the picture’s finally complete.’

Addie doesn’t manage to stifle the laugh. ‘I’m sorry, Tom is such a sap.’

‘I know!’ Marianne giggles. ‘But I think I’m starting to enjoy it…’

‘Good. You’ll be stuck with it for a while, by the sounds of it.’

The smile on Marianne’s face grows a little more, and she curls into her jumper. ‘Mon Dieu, I really feel giddy and all. It’s weird.’

Addie’s chest warms, too. She can’t recall the last time she’d seen Marianne this happy and giddy, if ever—maybe when she and Tom started dating, for the first couple weeks—and it makes her think about all the moments her friend spent convinced things were going south. She sees Marianne splayed over the couch and thinks of her in the same position, with her cheek draped over her forearm as she moans about Tom seeking affection again, and about how maybe she’s just not the one for him, if she can’t ive him what he needs.

All of that—all those moments scattered throughout Addie and Marianne’s lives where uncertainty was the certain thing—all leading to this.

To Marianne, in England, waiting for Tom and his family to come home, gushing about the love she has for him.

‘I feel like I’m going to start tearing up,’ Addie says.

‘Me, too!’

‘Be careful, you’re becoming a romantic.’

Marianne shrugs. ‘Eh. Maybe that’s not so bad, after all.’

‘I feel like I need to call Tom and congratulate him. Or thank him. Something.’ Addie shakes her head, still a little in disbelief. SHe doesn’t think Marianne’s had a drop of alcohol, yet even Addie feels buzzed and overwhelmed with the news. ‘You know, Holden was convinced this was going to be a disaster.’

‘Psh. Holden. I love you, Addie, but that man wouldn’t understand romance if it stared him down in a dark alley.’

‘Interesting visual,’ Addie chuckles. ‘It’s not like that, though.’

Marianne frowns at the camera. ‘When’s the last time you guys did something romantic?’

‘Depends on what you classify as romantic,’ Addie says, but she knows even before Marianne rolls her eyes – whatever she says, it will not be enough to appease her friend. ‘I thought having hot chocolate and getting work done, cosy under blankets, would be quite romantic.’

There’s a sigh, and Addie knows she’s fighting a losing battle. Even if Marianne is a freshly-reformed romantic.

‘Addison, mi amor. There’s a whole lot more to romance than working together. You deserve to be swept off your feet, you know.’

If it was any other day, Addie would argue that she doesn’t need that. That quiet romance is enough and beyond what she needs right now. That the calmness of having Holden around, of having him help her around at work, be her partner in every sense, that it’s enough. That it’s exactly what she wants.

But Addie sits in the room she grew up in, on the bed where she lay daydreaming about a romance straight out of the movies, and she thinks back to her hesitation to even touching Holden while they were at her flat – and maybe she’s right.

Maybe Addie does want to be swept off her feet.

‘There we go,’ says Marianne, smiling again. ‘The wheels have begun to turn.’

Addie turns around on her bed, gets up and sits on the chair at her desk instead, and stares at the snow that is beginning to fall again. The flakes are small and she imagines them to be soft, even if cold, and there’s an image of Drew in her head – of Drew, standing outside her apartment building with his arms stretched out, letting the snowflakes fall on his face.

Addie tears her gaze from the window and she’s looking at Marianne again, who is staring at her as if she’s analysing her.

‘What,’ Addie says.

Marianne squints her eyes and points her finger at the camera. ‘You had a little thing going on there.’

‘I was just thinking.’

‘About?’

‘Christmas,’ Addie lies.

‘Fine, keep it to yourself.’ Marianne smiles, still. ‘Did you and Holden go to the Christmas markets?’

Addie says they haven’t, they’ve just been too busy, and Marianne decides to drop the subject and start talking about her and Tom again – which is Addie’s preferred subject, too. Her thoughts stay with Holden, with Christmas, and she realises she can’t even picture the two of them having a glass of mulled wine, or holding hands while they attempt to skate on ice. It just doesn’t seem like something they’d ever do.

Listening to Marianne tell her about her and Tom’s experience at the markets, the little trips they’re having, the tour she’d been given by both Tom and his parents of their little village… Addie feels a pang of jealousy.

Before Marianne gets to finish her story and get the duo up-to-date, Addie’s family begin poking through the door, one by one. Addie’s sister, Liyah, has been eavesdropping for a minute or two before coming in with a gushing comment of her own – she stays for nearly ten minutes before Addie manages to kick her out, despite Marianne’s protests, because she appears to love telling people how her whole view of romance has been flipped. Addie’s dad comes to let her know dinner will be ready soon, and ends up chatting to Marianne for a good few minutes before Donnie, the little brother, comes up with wisdom of his own. (‘You get cooties if you kiss so you should break up,’ before telling her about how he’s going to beat Addie in checkers.) Addie’s mum is the last person to come up, telling them all off for disrupting Addie, only to drop down on the bed the moment Marianne asks her if she’s interested in hearing a romance story.

Addie ends up finding out more about her parents’ love story and early romance than she bargained for, that day.

She likes it, though. She likes how comfortable Marianne is with her family, and how she can sit with her mum on her bed and talk about boys and relationships like she’s sixteen again. (Not that she was really allowed or interested in boys and relationships at sixteen. Education and work were the priorities in the Mallory household.)

The more the conversation goes on, the more Addie can see the whole thing is not just another honeymoon phase. Especially from the way Marianne talks to Addie's mum – she knows what she’s doing, and she's aware of all the slip-ups she’s being warned of, and she keeps giving logical reasons why she’s doing what she is and why her thing with Tom is worth fighting for.

Marianne looks happier than she’s looked in a very long time. That’s all that matters.

She ends up telling Addie’s mum that they ‘figured out that the reasons why we want to stay together have always outweighed any fight we had.’

Addie shifts the pillow underneath her cheek to see her friend better. ‘What do you mean?’

‘There's a hundred reasons why we should call it quits,’ Marianne says. ‘But there’s a million more reasons why we should just try harder.’

She lists the reasons, too, as if she were plucking them out of a hat, and Addie can tell she’s thought long and hard about this. She outlines all the good and all the bad, and in an effort to understand better, Addie starts looking for these things in her own relationship.

Except, she finds herself standing on shaky ground when trying to find a reason to stay. The realisation is more of a ripple than a wave, but she can tell, even now, that unless she does something, it will inevitably lead to a tsunami.

◇

24: WHEREVER YOU GO NEXT

most people on the taglist have left/changed their urls, so lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters!

#outer banks #obx #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #f: obx #my fic #phone swap series

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dialovers-translations · 2 years ago

Text

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Kou Dark [06]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene shifts to the bathroom at Eden

Yui: ...Phew.

Kou: That bath felt nice, didn’t it?

Yui: Yeah.

( Now I’m all clean again after getting dirty from working in the garden. )

( Still, I’m shocked...I didn’t think Eden would have everything needed to lead your everyday life... )

Kou: ...Is something wrong?

Yui: Ah, well...I just thought it was strange I could take a bath here...

I always pictured Eden to be more like a sanctuary...

Kou: Ah, actually.

Karlheinz-sama made a bunch of upgrades for us.

Yui: Upgrades...?

Kou: Yup, yup. This place was completely empty at first, obviously.

I was incredibly suspicious of Karlheinz-sama and a real troublemaker as well.

Yui: Suspicious? Really...?

Kou: Yeah. ...I suppose this is as good of an opportunity as ever to tell you about it.

My memories here at Eden. I’m sure you’d love to hear about those, no?

Selection

→ I do (❦)

Yui: I’d love to hear. Which kind of memories do you have?

Kou: Fufu, you see...

→ If you want to tell me

Yui: If you want to talk about them, I suppose I’ll listen.

Kou: Oh come on, just be honest!

Oh well, whatever. Listen up, M-neko-chan.

Kou: You know just how bad my living conditions were back as a human, right?

Yui: ...Yeah.

Kou: That’s why I didn’t trust Karlheinz-sama at first either.

I was convinced there was a catch to it and he would eventually ask for something in return.

So...I guess I wanted to get the first hit on him? I figured I might as well just get him to hate me then.

I assumed that the second he’d find out how much of a pain in the ass I was, he would toss me aside like an old rag.

...That’s how my brain worked.

Yui: ...

Kou: But Karlheinz-sama was different. I could destroy as many things as I wanted or ignore his calls and lock myself in my room instead, he would never get mad.

He would simply stare at me...with eyes full of affection.

I hated that even more. I even felt as if he couldn’t care less about me.

...Then one day, it was Ruki-kun’s birthday.

Even though Ruki-kun was also once human just like the other three of us, he was the only one who actually got a proper upbringing.

I had been living as a piece of trash on the streets, so I didn’t have a birthday. Therefore, I didn’t think it was fair for him to have one.

...I got jealous of Ruki-kun.

Yui: ...

Kou: So I said some really horrible things to him which hurt him.

ーー ‘Must be nice to not be a piece of trash like I am’, I said.

Yui: ...!

Kou: That was the first time Karlheinz-sama had ever hit me. He went straight for it, not holding back at all.

That punch made me realize. ...Karlheinz-sama was not disinterested in me after all.

All the pranks I had pulled so far were trivial in his eyes.

...In other words, he would ignore any mischief I pulled as long as it did not hurt anyone.

Yui: ...I see.

( I’m kind of surprised. I had no idea Kou-kun once rebelled against Karlheinz-san. )

Kou: Looking back at it now, I do wonder why I did all of those bad things.

However, back then I was like a feral stray cat picked off the streets. I would bare my fangs at everyone around me...

Yui: Kou-kun...

ー She embraces him

*Rustle*

Kou: ...M-neko-chan...?

Yui: Don’t worry...Right now you have me, as well as your brothers...

Kou: ...Yeah, thanks.

I have both a lot of good and bad memories of my time here at Eden.

That’s why...I don’t want to lose this place.

Yui: Yeah...

Kou: ...Hey, Yui?

I believe I will go see Subaru-kun after all.

Yui: ...

Kou: It’ll be okay now. I won’t let my emotions get the best of me and call him out on his mistakes.

As much as I hate to admit it, we need Subaru-kun to help Eden flourish once more...

That’s why I want to have a proper heart-to-heart with him...

Yui: ...Right. I agree with you.

Kou: Thanks.

Besides, Ruki-kun almost mentioned the possibility of other Demons coming to attack this place.

I’m sure we have no time to waste. Let’s head to the human world right awaーー

ー Yuma runs up to them

Yuma: ーー Oi, y’all!

Come with me right now! Ruki just got word from our Familiar!

Yui: !?

Yuma: Apparently the Sakamaki manor in the human world was ambushed by some Vampire whose the leader of a gang of Ghouls...!

Kou: Eh...!?

Monologue

Ghouls are apparently a group of individuals,

who are shunned and discriminated against even in the Demon World.

I wonder what they are doing,

together with a Vampire then?

Besides, why exactly are these Ghouls,

the victim of discrimination within the Demon World?

Countless of questions popped up in my head, but there was no time to ask them.

After all, now that their manor in the human world has been under attack,

the Sakamaki brothers had retreated to their Castle in the Demon World instead.

Kou-kun and I looked at each other.

Perhaps we have little time (時間) left.

We briefly explained the situation to Yuma-kun

before heading towards Ruki-kun and Azusa-kun together.

ーー We will go see Subaru-kun.

To tell them of said intention (意思) of ours.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kou mukami #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #lekoudark6

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legends-of-time · 9 months ago

Text

The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 44: January to Early May 1925

Masterlist

Emma, Tom, Ivy and Michael all stay long enough for Marigold's second birthday but the first at Downton and by late January, they're off to Boston while Atticus and Rose leave shortly after.

Emma, three months pregnant, staggers off the ship, one hand clasped to her mouth while the other holds Ivy's hand. Tom follows with Michael and a suitcase.

"Oh, Christ," Emma mutters wincing, now glad to be on solid ground. The cold temporarily distracts her from her nausea. Why did no one tell her winters in Boston are absolutely freezing?!

"Mama not well?" She hears Michael ask.

"She'll be fine," Tom reassures their son, as he places him down and then grips his hand tightly. "Boat was a bit much for her, that's all." He sounds calm but flashes Emma a concerned look to which Emma swallows and tries to give him a reassuring smile.

"Tommy! Tommy Branson!"

Emma looks up, scanning the dock for the owner of the voice and finds a wiry, dark-haired fellow coming bearing down on them, bustling through the crowds and waving heartily, a big, welcoming smile on his face.

"You made it then?" He greets them.

"Aye, we did. It's good to see you, Patrick." Tom says, breaking into an answering smile.

"You too, cousin, you too." Patrick replies, pumping Tom's hand enthusiastically.

Tom gestures to Emma with the suitcase. "This my wife, Emma."

Emma presses on a smile and holds out her hand politely. "How do you do, Cousin Patrick."

Patrick's eyes widen, but he takes her hand and shakes it. "Jaysus, you really married a proper English lady, eh, Tommy? 'How do you do'?"

Emma clenches her jaw, alert to any suggestion that Tom's cousin might be making fun of her even as they'd only just stepped onto American soil.

Patrick looks down smiling at Ivy and Michael, who are staring up at him with wide eyes. "And who do we have here?"

"This is our daughter, Ivy and our son, Michael. Michael, Ivy, this is Cousin Patrick." Tom says, making the introductions.

"Hello." Ivy says while Michael stares on shyly. Emma narrows her eyes at Patrick's raised eyebrows once he hears her daughter's English accent.

"So, where's your luggage?" Patrick asks, peering around. "I'm guessing you didn't come over in steerage with just that one little suitcase you've got there."

"No, we have some trunks." Emma replies shortly. "We were going to come second class, but Robert wouldn't hear of it. It was his parting gift to upgrade us to first."

Patrick snorts. "Very nice too. But then I suppose that's what comes of living with rich aristos. You'll need to go to the luggage collection office then. It's just over there. I'll flag down a taxi while you're sorting it out. I'll see you out front in ten minutes."

With that, Patrick hustles off, leaving them standing on the quayside. Emma watches him go, a sliver of unease pricking at her as she wonders whether they are doing the right thing.

——

They stay with Cousin Patrick, his wife Kathleen and kids Pat Junior, Kathy, Rose, Philip and Bridie for the first few weeks.

After spending the weekend getting used to their new surroundings, Tom is thrown into work as Patrick takes him to see the business. His cousin has a good set-up: a few shiny cars in the showroom and a garage out back with a couple of mechanics labouring under the bonnets of the cars in for repair.

In late January/early February, with Kathleen's help, they found a ground-floor flat available to rent not far from their cousin's house. It is long and thin, with a corridor running the length of it from the front door to the kitchen at the far end. Off the corridor were the parlour, the dining room, a tiny bathroom and two bedrooms, one large enough for a double bed and a wardrobe, the other big enough for two single beds and a few bits of furniture. Outside is a small private garden the children can play in. It was is far cry from the expansive grounds of Downton, but it gives them both a little bit of green space to enjoy.

It takes them a while before everything is settled in, Ivy with her school and Tom settling into his new job. Emma hasn't been able to apply to any nursing jobs, first. It is because they believed at least one parent should be at home, supporting the children as they settle into a new country and since Tom is the one already with a job, it makes sense Emma will take that role. Then, while Emma is only five or six months pregnant, they know hospitals would be reluctant to hire her (yay to female rights that do not exist) unlike Downton where she had been there a good while beforehand.

——

What's interesting about travelling back in time is getting used to the different modes of communication. When you travel to early 20th century Yorkshire, you're faced with writing letters. Emma thankfully didn't have to write any letters at first as everyone she knew was a short walk away or living in the same house as her, so she was not faced with having to write any nor experience how slow it is compared to texting. Then, when in London, Gemma sent her a letter regaling her in life at Downton for those left behind and Emma was faced with the panic of having to write a letter, thankfully they were passed between them quite speedily. Then there was the odd letter she had written to Tom and Gemma when she and Sybil were having their nurse training but both that and London were only temporary. But then she moved to Dublin and the letter quantity increased as well as the time they took and the expense, but it wasn't too bad then she moved to Boston though they had a higher income this time.

They usually send one letter with little notes for specific members of the house. Emma makes sure to send some to Thomas on the latest drama downstairs (there are murmurings of people possibly being let go and Thomas worries he's on the chopping block) while Tom questions Mary and Robert on how the estate is running (Mallerton, a neighbour ring estate is being sold), Mary has officially taken over Tom's role. Both of them share notes with Edith on what she is doing next for her paper though it seems she's having trouble with the editor and is contemplating what to do with her London flat - whether to lease it out, sell it, or live in it herself. And also, Billy and his struggles to escape the flirtatious nature of his office's new secretary.

Mary's letters are a mixture of news about the family and the business, telling him about George, the estate, the pigs and a couple of Mary's social engagements, plus a brief bitchy moment about Edith.

Mary privately tells Emma a former chambermaid at the Grand Hotel where Mary spent the night with Anthony Gillingham and attempted to blackmail her into giving her money in exchange for her not selling it to the press. Though thankfully it's resolved through Robert paying her off with a smaller amount and getting her to sign a confession of attempted blackmail.

They receive welcome news in March, the case of the murder of Mr Green has finally come to an end with a woman confessing to his murder. Robert, Cora, Mary and Edith apparently go downstairs to the kitchen to share in the good news with the servants, all sharing a glass of champagne together in celebration. Emma and Tom make their own toast.

——

March 1925

Emma, now five months pregnant, is hurrying along the street from the shops, bags full of groceries. She had paid a local girl to keep an eye on the children but only for a short while and time had run away from her while she'd been getting food. She just gets to the top of her road when she stumbles and drops one of her bags, the insides spilling out.

"For Christ's sake!" She cries.

Before she can begin putting her other bags down to collect the dropped produce, a voice interrupts. "Like some help with that?"

Emma looks up to see a woman not much older than her walking towards her. She recognises her as one of the neighbours, Bridget Rice.

"Oh, no, l-I'm good. Thank you." Emma tries to insist, feeling embarrassed.

"Now just you never mind." She bends down and collects it all back into the bag. "Here." She doesn't hand it back to Emma though, continuing to hold it.

"Thank you." Emma mumbles.

"I remember when I was having my first." Mrs Rice says. "My back ached something fierce, and that handsome, but lazy sack of bones I call a husband never did lift a finger."

Emma frowns. "Oh, well my husband isn't like that."

"Oh, you lucky thing." Mrs Rice remarks. "Your husband is a strange one, so I suppose that makes sense."

Emma narrows her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Mrs Rice shrugs causing Drew's to pool in Emma's stomach. "Well, it's just I thought he was a republican, fighting for Ireland's freedom like the rest of us but instead he's married you and lived with an English Earl."

"He still believes in Ireland's freedom. We both do." Emma retorts.

"Sure, you do." Mrs Rice says, looking her up and down doubtfully. Emma feels like she is being patronised.

"Well," Emma utters sharply, pulling the bag from Mrs Rice's hand, "thank you for your help, Mrs Rice, but I must get back to the children."

"Of course." And she's not happy with that smile.

——

Early April 1925

Emma emerges from the house into the garden to call in the children to find Ivy pulling Michael along with a string attached to his wrist. Okay...

"What are you doing?" Emma asks as she hurries over to them as best she can with her six-month stomach. The children stop, turning to her with a grin.

"Having our own hunting party, Mama!" Ivy declares. "Just like Auntie Mary and Donk!"

"I'm a dog!" Michael tells her.

"Well, be careful with your little brother, Ivy." Emma warns her daughter. From what she can see of Michael's wrist, Ivy hasn't pulled on the string thankfully but can never be too careful.

Michael pouts. "I'm big, Mama!"

Emma smiles softly, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "I know you are, my little man but Mama worries."

She does worry about her children. Ivy has become good friends with Bridie, Patrick's youngest daughter, and Michael with Philip, the youngest son. Ivy also adores Kathleen and Kathy while Michael trails wide-eyed after Pat Junior. The local children are unkind to Ivy in particular but after promptly pinching one in the face after they began insulting Robert, the other kids have left her alone when she is playing outside. But it means, that apart from Bridie and Philip, Michael and Ivy don't have any other friends, which breaks Emma's heart.

As far as Emma can see, Ivy in particular isn't completely unhappy in Boston... but she isn't happy either. America hasn't changed her life for the better like Emma hoped. Not to her mind anyway. In fact, she is worried it has made it worse.

——

Dear Mary,

It warms my heart to hear from all of you on the goings on at Downton, it often shocks me how much happens!

I know I've already said it but thank you for the gifts you sent for Michael's birthday in February. He absolutely adores that bike and is already arguing that he's big enough to ride a proper big bike and gets annoyed when we tell him no. I still can't believe he's already three. He's running around like mad after Ivy now so it's good that we found a flat with a garden. Ivy's settling in and she'll be picking up the accent in no time I'm sure so you'll have to warn your father and grandmother of it before we all see you next. I'm sure Cora will be thrilled.

With Tom so busy since they've opened a new sales room, it's down to me to keep them in check. It's proving successful as a venture, pulling in both farmers after modern machinery and ordinary citizens after an automobile. America is embracing the motor car more quickly than England, I think, probably because the distances between places seem greater here. Patrick assures us sales will pick up even further as the weather becomes warmer as people like to drive out of the city during the hot summer months. You'll be pleased to hear the last significant snowfall we had was in March. The weather is definitely improving. They're going to have to hire another person for the salesroom at this rate.

I'm glad to hear you're taking over the role of agent as I worry that anyone would understand just how much you care about Downton. Tom feels your pain when you talk about Robert and his adherence to the old-fashioned way of doing things with the estate. I know it used to drive both Tom and Matthew mad. I don't want you to fall out with him but don't forget, Mary, that while he is the earl, you own Downton as much as he does. I know you're very aware of the fact that you're safeguarding the estate for George. Your opinion counts for much.

I am happy to hear Downton did so well at the Livestock show. I know you still see your sister's behaviour as 'faux mothering syndrome' and that you think her worry about Marigold going missing at the show even for a moment was silly but be kind to your sister, she deserves to have someone else to focus on and no child should have too much love. Also, I know your father should've discussed with you about the Drewes leaving but I'm sure everything's fine and it's not that big of a mystery. Though, reading about the family day out, the twists and turns makes me feel tearful as I read it. It's true what they say: distance makes the heart grow fonder.

You shouldn't be surprised that I'm on your mother's and Isobel's side when it comes to the fate of the Downton Hospital. A modernised Hospital will be good for patients. Your grandmother shouldn't forget it's not her who's in the firing line when it comes to medical treatment. Though I can say your description of Robert being the piggy in the middle of it all.

Now, about Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes, you must let Mrs Hughes decide where to hold her wedding breakfast. I know you mean well, my love, but it is her day, not yours. And I am quite sure that Mr Carson will be happy as long as she is happy. He loves her, so he will put her first and do what he thinks is best for her and that will be giving her what she wants on their wedding day. It may not be your idea of a wedding breakfast, but you must allow her to have things as she wants them on her special day. Promise me you won't interfere with their plans, no matter how tempted you are to do so. It's their day, not yours.

Also, are you sure Rose may be pregnant? Or should I contain myself from jumping up and down in excitement?

I'm not sure I would describe our life in Boston as exactly 'fish back in water' so to speak. The Irish community has definitely had varying opinions on Tom and I's backgrounds.

I haven't told Tom yet, but I am missing Downton, more than I thought I would. I dreamt last night I was in the park at Downton, walking with Ivy and Michael under the great trees, listening to the pigeons cooing in their branches. And when I woke, my eyes were filled with tears. I'm missing you all more than I ever thought I would.

Anyway, on that cheery note, considering all that's going on, it might be difficult for us to attend Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson's wedding as I imagine it'll be sometime soon. Don't be too controlling and give them my best wishes.

All the best,

Emma.

——

Late April 1925

"You might think it's stupid—" Tom begins to say one evening. They'd just finished cleaning up after their dinner, the kids in bed after a long day at school. Emma had spent the day with Kathleen, taking a walk in the park to feed the ducks (Ivy had pleaded with her to after they couldn't go over the weekend due to the weather) and sending off her latest letter home.

Emma put up her hand cutting him off, pulling herself from her position of lying on his chest. "I'm going to stop you there. When have you ever said something stupid?"

"What about when I was ranting and raving the first time both of us experienced having dinner with Larry Grey?" Tom reminds her pointedly.

Emma rolls her eyes. "In your defence, you'd been drugged. And so had Billy, so you weren't alone."

"True." Tom shrugs before shifting nervously. "Anyway, I, uh, I've been thinking."

"About?"

"Us, the children, Boston. Whether it's a right fit for us. I wasn't sure right from the beginning whether we were doing the right thing in coming to Boston, but I felt I had to try." Tom says, the words tumbling out of him.

"Me too." Emma admits. "When we came here, I thought it was for good with the odd visit back to Downton but now I'm wondering if we made the right decision. The children miss it."

"I know what you mean. I hoped that– I wanted the children would have a fresh start somewhere where they wouldn't have all the baggage they'd have in England." Tom confesses. "Somewhere where having working-class parents living with the upper class wouldn't mean a damn thing. Seems I was wrong about that. It seems the Irish care about that even more than most of the English."

"For the opposite reason mind you." Emma points out. "I am realising more and more that the Irish and Irish Americans we meet here see me and the children as utterly and irredeemably English and – with a few notable exceptions – most of them greet both of us with a strong distrust."

"That's what is making this all so wrong for me. The children, I don't want them to have to wake up every day and know that there are people in the world who hate them simply because of who their parents are. That didn't happen at home." Tom scrunches up his nose distastefully then. "For once, the English have proved themselves more tolerant than the Irish in that respect."

Emma lets out a snort. "Did you just call Downton home?" She smirks.

Tom rolls his eyes. "Don't give me that look, it's home to you too."

"It is." She admits. "I think Downton is home for all of us now, maybe more than when we were in Dublin. They took me in when I had nowhere to go, helped me find my footing in a world that used to be over a century old to me even though they didn't know it. I wanted to desperately give Boston a chance but the way they treat all of us, like we're the enemies."

"All of Patrick's friends," Tom says, "they think I might be reporting back to British military intelligence."

Emma scoffs. "I don't get it. You were literally banished from Ireland while fighting for its independence."

"Tell that to the boys." Tom retorts.

Emma smiles a self-deprecating smile. "Being married to me probably doesn't help."

"Hey," Tom strokes her cheek softly. "Being married to you and having the children is the only things keeping me sane."

"Bridget Rice thinks different." Emma grumbles.

"Bridget Rice doesn't know you." Tom argues, grinning. "I could tell her all sorts things about you that makes you nice."

Emma giggles and they share a kiss.

"When do you want to leave?" Emma asks, pulling back.

Tom hums softly, stroking her stomach as he thinks. "There's a certain wedding in a few weeks weeks that I'd like us to make it back in time for if we can. Mrs Hughes has been kind to us over the years, I want to wish them well."

Emma nods, agreeing with that idea. "You'll need to tell Patrick soon."

"He already knows."

"What?!" Emma exclaims. "But we've only just decided."

"Apparently it were already obvious." Tom grins. "He sat me down today, asking what date we're leaving. Turns out they already suspected we'd be leaving and put an advertisement in a few newspapers and trade publications for someone. He's asked me to look through the possible candidates."

"Better get started then." Emma declares.

——

16th May 1925

The door opens and a hall boy stands there, which is unusual. It is rare that Mr Carson, Mr Bates' Thomas and the footmen, Albert, Andy and Mr Molesley, would all be out at the same time.

"Can I help you?" He says automatically, then looks at them, Emma, Tom and two sleepy children in their arms plus luggage that they'd already taken out of the car they had taken from the Station.

Peter's face breaks into a surprised expression. "Mr and Mrs Branson, no one said you were coming today."

Tom smiles. "No, well we wanted it to be a surprise, so the family didn't know we were."

They go inside. "Is anyone in Peter?" Emma asks the hall boy.

"No Ma'am, they are down at Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes wedding in the Village." He tells them.

"That's today? Oh, I thought it was tomorrow. So, you are on your own?" He nods in response.

"Right, well in that case, let me help you get our luggage inside." Tom says. "Mr Carson need never know that you didn't do it on your own if you don't tell him." Peter nods and begins to do so. Tom turns to Emma. "You take a seat in the Library with the children, put your feet up, then we'll go down to the Village to find everyone."

Emma nods, taking the children through.

Thirty minutes later they walk back down the drive towards the Village, or more accurately Tom walks, Emma waddles and the children run ahead, then back to their parents, trying to encourage them to hurry up. Smiling at their antics, Emma and Tom keep their pace considering Emma can't exactly run at seven months pregnant.

Ivy and Michael stop inside the gates when they reach them and wait for me, remembering our rule that they must not go through without either their parents, one of the family or staff with them. Emma is glad they had remembered the rule before they had needed to call out to her.

——

They stand outside the School Hall in Downton Village. Michael balances on Tom's hip and Ivy grips her mother's hand, staring at the entrance, hearing the rumble of Mr Carson's deep voice through the open door. A mixture of nerves and anticipation churns inside Emma at the thought of seeing them again after all these months.

Ivy shifts next to her, drawing Emma's attention. "Ready?" She asks her.

Ivy beams at her and nods. "Ready."

Emma shares a look with Tom who nods and takes a deep breath and walks into the building.

The first thing Emma sees is the decorations. It is cheerfully decorated with the traditional sit-down wedding breakfast with groaning tables. Her breath catches as she takes in all the familiar faces. Anna stands beaming next to Mr Bates, Daisy stands with Mr Mason and Mrs Patmore with Andy and Thomas lingering nearby. Isobel and Violet are gathered together, and Robert, Cora, Billy, Edith and Mary stand with their backs to the doors. All gaze upon the couple in the centre of the room.

Then Robert leads the toast to the happy couple. "The bride and groom!"

The crowd of people in the room echo the toast.

"To the bride and groom." Emma and Tom both say in the ensuing silence that follows as the guests sip their drinks.

A sea of faces whirls around to face the newcomers. The family's faces light up at the sight of them standing there at the back of the room.

"Emma! Tom! And Ivy and Michael, darlings! What are you doing here? And how did you know where to find us?" Mary cries happily. She moves towards them, joined by Billy, Cora and Edith, and embraces Tom and Emma in turn.

Emma laughs, slightly embarrassed. "I got the dates wrong, thought the wedding was tomorrow," she receives an embrace from Cora who turns to greet Tom, "but we turn up at Downton to be greeted by the hall boy who told us where you were." An embrace comes from Cora too.

Tom turns to Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes (or should they say Mrs Carson?) with a smile. "And it means that we can congratulate you in person. Mr and Mrs Carson."

"Oh, are you back for a holiday?" Mrs Hughes asks, very touched.

"Say you'll stay!" Mary begs.

"That's just the point." Emma replies. "We can stay as long as you want us."

"I don't understand. What are you saying?" Edith asks, with a hesitant smile.

"Just this. That we've come back and we'd like to stay for good." Tom explains. "If Lord Grantham will have us."

"Of course, we'll have you!" Cora exclaims. "We'll be delighted!"

"I echo every syllable." Robert says very happily. He takes Michael into his arms. "Hello, Michael, my boy! Give old Donk a kiss!" They kiss.

Ivy pulls away from Emma. "And me!"

"Oh! And you of course!" Robert hands Michael over to Cora to happily greet Ivy.

"Emma, Tom, this is amazing news. Are you sure?" Billy eagerly questions, getting his chance to embrace Emma with a kiss on her cheek and shakes hands with Tom.

"Don't worry." Emma reassures. "We're really, really sure."

Robert puts Ivy down and shakes Tom's hand cordially before greeting Emma with a kiss on the cheek.

"So, what happened?" Billy asks.

"Well, it's quite simple. He had to drag me all the way to Boston," Emma's comment receives a few chuckles, "to work it out and it took us a while, but we got there in the end."

"Go on, what was it?" Mary presses.

"We learned that Downton is our home. And that you are our family. If we didn't quite know that before we left, we know it now." Tom answers tearfully.

George and Sybbie have spotted Michael and Ivy, waving. Cora and the nannies put the children down, and George and Sybbie run to Ivy and Michael and give them hugs. Little Marigold totters after them.

"Marigold?" Edith softly encourages her daughter to say hello, too.

Marigold walks up to Ivy and Michael, rather more shyly than George and Sybbie. Ivy puts her arms around her. "Hello!"

Michael decides to join in by wrapping his arms around Marigold as well.

And everybody coos over them happily. Emma's heart swells. She's definitely not crying.

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

#downton abbey

0 notes

unfoundhoney · 4 years ago

Text

a sister’s sacrifice ; part three ↠

↠ platonic!c!sleepy bois inc x fem!reader , platonic!c!tubbo x fem!reader ; angst just angst

↠ masterlist

↠ part one ; part two ; part three ;

↠ @leafyturtle @basheverythingyesterday @terribletoothbat @bestioe @junoblad3 @machiebach @ok-honey

when considering the deaths of the people on the dream smp server, yours is the hardest

schlatt was detested by all when he’d died

few people still truly cared for wilbur when he met his end; the man he once was was long gone by then

but you

you never changed

you were a constant for so many & immovably kind to the rest

selfless, giving, caring

even when you just wanted an escape, you came to the aid of your brothers

you gave the ultimate sacrifice & paid the price

everyone mourns you

when the battle is won & dream locked away indefinitely

once everyone has come down from the high of freeing themselves from dream’s reign, the server goes into a state of grieving

there’s no denying your death

they all saw the message in chat

you’re dead

those that were close to you took it hard

niki was narrowly stopped from burning down the bakery you encouraged her to open and helped build

eret put her emotions into work on a memorial in their museum for you

even under the egg’s control, bad & ant put the eggpire aside for you

of course, those who took it the hardest is your family

when ghostbur learns of your death, he’s distraught

he doesn’t quite know how to handle the information

he protects your home & only allows people to enter when he supervises them

tommy took a while to move past his anger & deal with the fact that you’re gone

tubbo ran off to start snowchester

he chose to distract himself rather than truly process his emotions, even if you’d always done your best to break that habit of his

now that you’re not around, who’s to stop him from letting himself be numb to it all?

techno is another one of your family members who chose to barely acknowledge your passing

he became somehow more monotonous & emotionless

and phil

...

there’s no word for a parent who loses a child

wilbur was gone & of course it messed phil up to be the one to take will’s last life but by that point his son was gone

but you

you’d always been such a genuinely good person

phil did so little for you as a father

he was so absent

he never apologized to you for that

he never told you how much he loves & appreciates you & everything you’ve done to keep their family together when he couldn’t be bothered

it’s a few hours after he received the news from ranboo that all the guilt for everything he had ever put you through hit him

he broke down in his kitchen while trying to distract himself by organizing his cupboards

but all he could think about was you

you & your never ending kindness & compassion

he was never a father to you

yet you never hated him

why couldn’t you have hated him?

it would hurt less to lose you if you hated him; it’s what he deserves

he’s unworthy of your love

but he can only dwell so long on you

you are given a proper funeral

you’re buried by the seashore, somewhere between l’manberg and tommy’s abandoned vacation homes in an open field

the sever members plant so many flowers, your gravesite becomes a flower field

but soon, life goes on

it will only hurt for longer to draw out the mourning period

it would do no good for anyone

besides, you wouldn’t want the server to be sad for your sake

techno supposes it’s for the best that you died

he does his best to move on, filling his days with resource gathering and upgrading his tools, weapons, and armor while trying to think through his emotions logically

as much as he liked you

as much as everyone liked you, you were too good

you were the best of them

fate is not kind to heroes

“hello!”

technoblade is not an easy man to sneak up on, let alone scare

the greeting itself isn’t want startles him

it’s turning toward the voice to lock eyes with you

you who is dead

techno is not proud of the sound he made when he saw you but you of all people wouldn’t make fun of him for it

he just stares at you, slowly realizing what’s happened

you look desaturated, the color drained from your clothes

your skin is grey & almost translucent

you’re a ghost

“y/n.”

“hello! who are you?”

techno tells no on one of your ghost form

he even keeps the rest of the server a secret from you

he leads you to your old home & leaves you there w/ ghostbur

he hopes your and ghostbur’s combined amnesia will keep you out of harm’s way i.e. the rest of the server

he visits you occasionally but mostly leaves you be

you live happily with ghostbur for a while

he is very glad to have you back

his memory is nearly as bad as yours, so the story of the server & what happened to you when you were alive is only given to you in bits & pieces that are near impossible to fit together

it was only a matter of time before someone came to visit your house

“...y/n?”

it’s tubbo who finds you first

or he finds your ghost

(tubbo) y/n! oh my god! you’re a ghost! you’ve come back!

(you) hello! *whispers* ghostbur, who is this?

(ghostbur, whispering obviously) that’s tubbo, one of your other brothers i’ve told you about

(you, whispering) oh, right

(tubbo) how long have you- oh, this is incredible! i have to tell tommy! he’s been so sad since you died; he’ll be so glad to see you!

tubbo messages tommy, who is skeptical but reluctantly comes to your house anyway

but there you are

your ghost anyway

which is good enough, honestly

(tommy) y/n!

you catch him in a hug easily, even if you’ve never met him before

(tommy) you’re alive!

(you) no i’m not. i’m a ghost!

techno happens to check in on you when tubbo & tommy are there

bad news for technoblade: you’d told them about techno leading you here

meaning: tommy knows techno hid you from him & everyone else

needless to say, he is not too happy about that

(tommy) you hid her! you kept her away from us!

(techno) tommy, you have to understand-

(tommy) i don’t have to understand shit! you hid her from us! you lied to us!

(techno) tommy-

(tommy) you kept her from everyone! you’re selfish and you’re a liar and you’re horrible and-

(techno) i did it to protect her! she’s been hurt enough protecting others; it’s our turn to protect her. the only way we can do that is by leaving her alone

(tommy) she’s my sister

(techno) your sister is dead, tommy. for once in her life, let her have peace

tommy gives up on techno & goes to you instead

(tommy) y/n! y/n, we can bring you back. we can revive you. well, dream can revive you but he’s in prison so he has to do what we say so we can bring you back. we can be a family again. don’t you want to come back?

(you) ...no

that

...

that isn’t what tommy was expecting

(tommy) what?

(you) if alive y/n comes back, i won’t exist anymore. and i’ve only just got here. i don’t want to go yet

(tommy) don’t you understand how much y/n means to me? y/n has to come back. she has to. she’s so important. not just to me but to, um... tubbo as well! right, tubbo? don’t you want y/n back?

tommy looks to tubbo for some backup but the shorter boy looks away

(tubbo) i think we need to let y/n go, tommy

the betrayal that fills tommy’s chest is soon gone as he locks eyes with techno

tommy knows techno is right

you’re too much of a good person

you’re too willing to sacrifice yourself for others

even as a ghost your kindness is blinding

this server will only drain you of everything you have yet again

he will drain you of everything you are

he’s just tried to convince you to cease to exist to bring back the former version of yourself

(you) i’m sorry. it’s just- i’ve heard there are these really pretty blue flowers in the swamp biome that i haven’t got to see yet-

(tommy) no. it’s fine. i’m sorry. i-... i should go.

tommy leaves your house & tubbo goes with him

even if tubbo caught on a bit sooner to techno’s reasoning, he’s still concerned at his friend’s sudden change in character

(tubbo) tommy... are you alright?

(tommy) ...i really want her back

(tubbo) i do, too. but she’s gone

(tommy) she doesn’t have to be

tubbo can’t argue with that

(tommy) but... maybe it’s for the best

(tubbo) really?

(tommy) yeah.

(tubbo) but just earlier you were telling me about your plan to get the revive book from dream

(tommy) techno’s right, tubbo. all everyone- myself included- has ever done to y/n is take. and she’s given everything

(tubbo) because she loved us

(tommy) as much as she loved us and as much as we loved her... the only thing we’ve ever brought her is pain. i think now... now is her time to rest.

(tubbo) ...that’s very pog champ of you, big man

tommy had planned to visit dream as many times as it took to get the revive book location off of him so he could revive you, but now he’s accepted that he needs to move on

he needs to move on from you & dream & everything dream has put him through

he decides to pay one last visit to dream, put him behind him, & never look back

he’s ready to start a new chapter in his life, one without dream

and the first one without you

but then he’s locked in the prison

two weeks pass

nearing three weeks & tommy still isn’t allowed out of dream’s cell

he’s irritated and annoyed and most of all he’s scared

but he can’t let dream know he’s still afraid of him, that’s why he pisses dream off enough to the point of being beat to death

tommy begs him to stop

but then he’s gone

everything is dark

black

empty

nothing

is this what death is?

conscious in absolute nothingness?

tommy’s feet feel the ground beneath him

his senses come back to him

it’s still dark but he feels as though he can see again

where is he?

heaven?

no, probably hell

or maybe neither?

both...?

what the hell happened?

the first thing to break the silence is the voice tommy has known since he was an infant

the voice of the person who raised him

the voice of the person who has always been there for him

the voice of the person who he has finally let go of

your voice

saying one simple word

“tommy?”

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fandomlovingfreak · 3 years ago

Text

Instant Dad

Ray Stantz/F!Reader

Rating: General Audiences

Includes: Ray finding out he’s a dad. No beta reader! We die like MEN!

Word Count: 1041

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Something good was going to happen today, Ray was sure of it. What happens when that something good is swaddled in a blanket and dropped off at the front door of the Ghostbuster's HQ with a note claiming Ray is the father? The "Three Men and A Baby" Ghostbusters fic you didn't know you needed.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Ghostbusters (sad, I know). This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: So I wrote this to distract myself from the pain of having writer’s block (it’s apparently only writer’s block for Egon fics lol). I hope the Ray stans like this. I just wanted an excuse to write dad!Ray... I don’t know if this will become a series so I left it in a place where it could get a Ch2.

Enjoy

Today is going to be a good day.

From the moment I woke up, I felt it in my bones. Something good was going to happen today; it was inevitable.

The office receptionist (y/n) had cheerfully greeted me when I came down to the office area of Ghostbusters HQ after breakfast. We had talked for a brief moment before I headed towards ECTO-1. The Ghostbusters had been on the slower side of things, business-wise, leaving me plenty of time to fix up some things about our vehicle. ECTO-1 was due for an oil change, and I'd been putting it off for as long as possible. As long as I had some free time, I could do a couple of small upgrades and repairs to the interior as well.

I hear the faint, wailing sound for the first time as I'm opening the car's hood. I brush it off, thinking that it has something to do with Egon in the basement lab or... maybe it was the wail of a ghost. Could a ghoul have escaped one of the traps and been wandering around the old firehouse?

Maybe though, I'm just tired and imagining things. My imagination can be wild with and without proper sleep. Trying to clear my ears also doesn't work, and the wailing only gets louder.

I turn to (y/n), "Do you hear that?"

She pauses her typing, straining her ears to listen. After a moment, she slowly nods, "It sort of sounds... like a-- crying baby." (y/n) frowns, getting up from her desk and walking towards the front entrance, "I swear it's coming from outside... you don't think there's a lost child outside, do you Ray?"

I shrug, following her towards the front entrance of the building. Slowly, she cracks open the door, stepping outside the door to look around.

She gasps, "Ray! There's a-- a baby laying outside the door."

I hold the door open as she leans down, picking the screaming child up. "Oh god-- You don't think it's been outside for long, do you?"

Lost for words, I look outside again, hoping to see someone looking for this lost child. Or, at the very least, a good explanation as to why a baby has been left outside HQ. Instead, I find a hastily folded piece of notebook paper.

"There's a note." Picking up the letter, I unfold it.

The note reads:

Ray,

I'm sorry I didn't tell you... but she's yours. I can't keep her. I wasn't meant to be a mother, Ray... I tried. I really tried, but it's not going to work.

Her name is Christina; she was born on January Ninth and is five months old.

I'm so sorry.

Jenny

"What does it say?" (y/n) peaks over my shoulder. She's still holding the baby, bouncing her through the fussy cries and whimpers.

My mouth feels dry, my hands clammy as I re-read the letter again. This is insanity! It can't be true! Jenny? I rack my brain, trying to remember exactly who Jenny was. Jenny... from the bar on fifth? That Jenny?

"Uh--" I scratch my head, not exactly sure what to say. "I think she's... my-- my daughter. At least this letter says so."

(y/n) blinks rapidly, a frown slowly forming on her face, "Your daughter?"

"I-- I think so? It's what the letter says." (y/n) readjusts the baby in her arms so that she can read the note. She's quiet as she reads, a small frown appearing between her brows.

"We can't just-- I mean, this Jenny could be lying. She abandoned her own child on a busy sidewalk, for Christ's sake! She's not the most reliable..." (y/n) trails off, her eyes glued to my face as she waits for an explanation.

"I think-- I do remember a Jenny..." The words come out sheepishly.

"Oh my god," (y/n) looks down at the baby, whose cries have reduced to small whimpers.

"She wasn't anything serious!" I say as if that matters. It's clear from the child (y/n)'s holding that a one-night stand can result in unexpected things.

"Clearly," (y/n) looks back down at the note, "What are you going to do?"

"I--" have no idea. Rejecting the baby sounds cruel, but I know nothing about babies or parenting. Ten minutes ago, I wasn't aware I was a father, for Christ's sake. "What should I do?"

(y/n) ponders the question before responding, "Do you want my honest opinion, Ray?"

Nodding, I run a hand through my hair, "It couldn't hurt."

She gives me a small smile, "I think you should raise her. She's your daughter, after all."

"(y/n), I can't raise a baby. I don't know anything about children."

"But you've told me you get along with your nieces and nephews well enough--"

"I haven't seen any of them in years."

(y/n) gives me a long hard stare, "I think you're letting the shock scare you into believing you can't do this."

"What... what should I do? I mean, I live here, (y/n). It's not exactly baby-friendly."

She nods, "It's not, but I'm sure we can find you an apartment... but," (y/n) sighs, looking flustered, "If you want, you could stay with me for the time being. I have a pull-out couch in my living room, and we could go out and get a crib?"

"But, what about work? Who would look after her when I have to work?"

She purses her lips, "I guess I could? Only when it's completely necessary. And I mean completely necessary, Ray, like when you're out of the building or doing something idiotic and dangerous."

I smile at her, looking at the baby, Christiana... My daughter. I suppose I've been a father now for... well over a year. It's a weird feeling, finding out something about yourself you hadn't been aware of.

"Do you really think I could even... I mean, me? I'm not exactly the responsible type..."

"You're better than you think," she moves to hand me Christina, who has stopped crying. She's looking up at me with eyes that strongly resemble my own. A strong burst of emotion surges through me as I look into those eyes.

Maybe... maybe this was the good thing I felt this morning. Only time would tell, I suppose.

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piscespixiewastaken · 2 years ago

Text

Despair and Desperation

Masterlist, Previous > Next

STORY BELOW CUT

content warnings: eye trauma, nightmares, implied child abuse, sexual innuendos, violence, mentions of blood, panic attacks, kidnapping

Artemis’s cry cut through Foaly’s consciousness. The tremor in the Mud Boy’s voice only accentuated by the mic on his throat. Spiro’s leering face could be seen through the iris cam as he grabbed a sharp implement from a nearby table and rushed at the boy. There was a scream for help before Spiro raised the blade above Artemis’s head. Foaly could do nothing but watch in horror as the blade struck and the scream for help became a scream of pain.

Foaly jumped awake, chest heaving as his mind processed where he was. A dream, he realized. It was only a dream. But no matter how much he assured himself, it didn’t make the dream less terrifying.

His wife, Caballine stirred next to him.

“Foaly, what’s wrong?”

He couldn’t answer, just trying to get his breathing back under control, to clear his head from the horrid scream. Because no matter how much he assured himself, that scream had been real. He had seen Spiro stab Artemis in a fit of rage. The screams and the way all feed, visual and auditory, suddenly cut off had been haunting Foaly’s nightmares ever since.

Caballine sat up and rubbed her husband’s shoulders. “You did everything you could, dear. It’s not your fault.”

Foaly took a shuddering breath. “I could have. I could have snuck him help. Something. He’s dead because we couldn’t help him.” Even if the Mud Boy had been annoying and arrogant and a general pain in the ass, he’d been improving. He didn’t deserve to be abandoned. He didn’t deserve to die.

Caballine said nothing as she hugged Foaly close. It was a long time before either of them got back to sleep.

Spiro stared out at the skyline of Chicago. He had needed this. A break from the office, from the workplace drama that was inevitable in such a large corporation. So instead of spending his weekend in the penthouse, he’d taken the day with Blunt and gone out on Lake Michigan in a yacht. Well, not just with Blunt. A few local mafia members, including one Carla Frazzetti and her boss, also sat on the boat, enjoying the first sunny days of summer on the deck.

He raised a glass of water in greeting as one of the mafia bosses approached his chair. The rotund man laughed as he plopped a deck chair beside Spiro.

“This is the life, ain’t it?” the man stated. Marco Giuliano was not a man to hold back from life’s pleasures, immoral or otherwise. Something Spiro could respect despite his inability to partake in the more drink-oriented ones. Hence his glass of water instead of the martini that Marco held in his beefy hands.

“It is indeed. Now if only we could get away to Cuba or a proper coastline,” Spiro commented, smiling.

Marco laughed again. “If only, if only. Say, where is that little brat I keep hearing you have tucked away in your penthouse. I thought you might have brought him out. I could use some fun.”

Spiro tried not to let a sour look cross his face. He would need to keep a tighter check on the lips of his security and tech staff.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to there. We did have a new technician start up last month, young, fresh out of school. Maybe he’s the one you’re thinking of?”

Marco looked puzzled. “Could have sworn I heard different. But eh, work gossip is still gossip. This mean things are going well for you?”

Spiro’s smile returned with ease. “Absolutely. I can’t wait to stick it to Phonetix once they see what we release next.”

Marco grinned. “Well, just don’t be causing too much trouble. My buddy’s got connections there.”

Spiro took the hint. “Nothing that’ll put them under. Just something to show they have some upgrading to do if they want to stay in business.”

Marco nodded. “Excellent. Keep up the work for us, Jonny boy.”

He strolled away, glass still in hand as he grabbed the waist of an escort standing by the deck railing. At least Spiro thought it was her waist. He didn’t dwell on the thought. Carla however had some very choice words to say as she walked up beside him.

“Pig,” she muttered. Spiro raised an eyebrow in her direction.

“Didn’t think you were the judgmental type.”

She shrugged. “I had been looking at that one.”

Spiro glanced back at Marco and the young woman on his arm. “Ah, well, there’s plenty that’s been paid for.”

“And he’ll take them all at once if he could. Hence, he’s a pig.”

Spiro shrugged this time. “Fair enough. Need something?”

Carla did not sit down next to him. “I heard what you told Marco.” Her voice lowered so that only Spiro could hear her. “You kept him alive?”

Spiro nearly scoffed. “You expect me to kill a child in cold blood? When he’s much more profitable to me alive?”

“Profitable?” Carla’s voice betrayed a morbid curiosity.

“Of course! With a brain like his, I’ll be making bank on every patent possible. And if he ends up running out of use, his family has plenty of enemies who’d love a swing at him. Sell him off, profit regardless. I’ve already set up a way to destroy any evidence of his kidnapping as well. Nothing could point to him being under my possession.”

“He seemed rather stubborn and strong-willed by your description. It sounds like that’s changed,” Carla noted, her curiosity still piqued.

Spiro’s smile turned nasty, and for a brief moment, Carla felt a sense of pity for the Fowl boy. “Oh, it’s changed all right. He’s become an obedient little bitch, if you catch my meaning.”

Carla did catch his meaning. And her brief moment of pity for the young teen solidified. “I see,” she replied quietly.

Across the harbor in the tall, gleaming tower Spiro owned, a 14-year-old boy sat in the medical suite with the nurse. Two hulking guards stood outside, one of them with gritted teeth and clenched fists.

Chips watched as Pex’s knuckles turned white and thin bits of blood slowly dripped to the floor from his fists. He was angry. No, beyond angry, though Chips didn’t think he knew the right word for it. Whatever it was, it was bad and it was big. He heard the kid whimper from behind the door and then suddenly cry out. Pex immediately rushed to open the door. Chips peeked inside.

Artemis was shaking on the bed, clutching his head where his empty eye socket sat. Bloodstained wrappings lay around him from when the nurse changed the bandages on his eye and throat. Miss Scorzi made shushing noises to soothe the boy as he hunched forward. Chips heard a growl beside him as Pex stepped forward.

“What’d you do to him?” he demanded. Artemis flinched, looking up at the two men.

Miss Scorzi frowned at the significantly larger man now standing in her doorway. “Do not disturb my patient, Pex. He’s under enough stress already, and more sudden noises will only make this harder for both of us.

Pex wasn’t dissuaded. “Why’d he make that noise?”

Miss Scorzi stared the man down before sighing. “The bandage stuck to the wound a bit more than I expected, and it pulled at the skin. He’s fine, for now.”

Chips watched Pex look at Artemis and then back at the nurse. He growled again, this time in a different tone.

“I just… It was… It’s the same noise he made after Boss…” Pex stuttered. Chips felt like his body wanted to move down and inside of himself. It took him several minutes to realize that this feeling was sadness.

Miss Scorzi had a look on her face that seemed to match what Chips was feeling. She also looked back at the teenager on her medical bed. “I know. I wish the boss would do things differently. If Doctor Julio hadn’t been visiting that day….”

Artemis tensed, his breathing speeding up as his face went pale. Well, more pale than it was. Miss Scorzi rushed over to him, placing her hands on his shoulders.

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” she said, gentle and firm. Chips also moved forward and placed a hand on the boy’s head.

Artemis slowly began to breathe more normally again. Chips was relieved. He didn’t know how to handle panic, especially with Pex here. He knew Pex would panic first anyways.

“You’re safe right now, kid.” Chips found his voice was so quiet, he almost couldn’t hear it. He realized he was angry too. “He can’t get you here.”

Artemis nodded. Miss Scorzi gave Chips a grateful look before gently rubbing the boy’s arm. “Let’s finish getting you patched up, okay? Then these two will take you back to your room. Spiro will be out for most of the day, and I’ll see if one of the other staff members can stall him before he comes to see you. Okay?”

It wouldn’t be much. Chips really hoped Boss came back in a good mood. He thought back to what Pex had mentioned a few months before. And he realized something. Chips realized he didn’t like Boss holding the kid here either. He had thought after a year, things would calm down. But they hadn’t. They’d gotten bad, real bad. Maybe someone needed to do something about that. He just didn’t know who.

Taglist: @artemis-fowl-angst

#artemis fowl #tw: child abuse #tw: blood #tw: eye injury #tw: kidnapping #whump #jon spiro #i’ve never written something like this before and oof #is this my thing now?#do I write whump now??#jon says no fairies au

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years ago

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 18

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 7.6k

Abu Dhabi holds a special place in Pierre's heart. The food is great, the views are spectacular, and there is always plenty to do to keep him busy. Night races are some of the more exciting races too and Pierre appreciated the variety.

Coming into the final race of the season, Pierre holds on to seventh in the championship by a few points. Perez sensed the usurper creeping up on his seat and had cranked it up to eleven.

Exams had kept you in London for the race in Brazil, where Pierre had finished sixth and Checo DNF'd. You had managed to fly out for the weekend in Saudi Arabia, where Perez had finished fifth and closed the gap to Pierre to only four points behind.

If Pierre didn't finish ahead of Perez this weekend, he was fucked. And he was at the distinct disadvantage of his good luck charm being absent, stuck in London finishing up your final few exams of the semester. Two weeks without seeing you coupled with barely hearing from you had worn on him. It wasn't purposeful on your part but Pierre's stress was already compressed like the suspension on his car. Stray an inch too far over the racing line, hit a curb too hard and it was liable to snap, sending bits and pieces flying.

Pierre checks his phone for the millionth time as he waits to check in to the hotel. Wednesday was late for this many crew members to be arriving. His main concern though was that you hadn't responded to the text he'd sent you upon landing.

"Look lively, will you?" Max claps Pierre on the shoulder and he slides his phone into his pocket. "It's the last race of the season. We get to go balls to the wall and leave it all out in the track. And here you are looking like a kicked puppy."

"Easy for you to say," Pierre starts, grinning at his friend. "You clinched the title weeks ago. You don't even have to race this weekend if you don't want to and you'd still win."

"Doesn't mean I won't be shooting for a podium."

Pierre rolls his eyes. "Yeah well we can't all be so lucky, can we?"

"Next year you'll be playing with the big dogs." Max hands the receptionist his ID, says a few words and turns back to Pierre. "Looking forward to having you as a teammate again. It was fun for those couple races and I'm sure you'll be a challenge now that you've found your groove."

"You're gonna jinx it if you keep talking." Pierre laughs, praying that it covers up the old wound Max's statement picked open. Pierre hated the idea of moving back to Red Bull but he didn't have much choice. He was still contracted to one of four Red Bull branded seats for next season. A promotion, at the very least, would help him showcase his talent and further cement his value. If he had to spend any longer than that with the team, ripping out his hair was a real possibility.

"Wasn't someone supposed to be with you this weekend?" Max quirks a brow. "Where is she?"

"In London." Max bringing you up doesn't help the pit forming in Pierre's stomach. Win or lose, seventh or eighth, Red Bull or Alpha Tauri, come Sunday Pierre wanted you at his side. Interview requests were bound to roll in either way and Pierre would need someone to ground him, a task much easier to accomplish if you were physically at his side.

"Too bad." Max clicks his tongue and takes his room keys from the receptionist. "It's gonna be a fun weekend."

"I don't think-"

Pierre's vision goes dark at the same time someone whispers, "Guess who?"

Pierre sucks in a breath, spins on his heel and wraps you in a hug in one smooth motion. You laugh as he lifts you off your feet and presses kisses to your cheeks.

"What are you doing here?" He grabs both suitcases and tugs you aside. His room can wait.

"Tost asked me to come." Your grin is contagious, its twin appearing on Pierre's own cheeks. "He said that since you were flying out from Milan on your own there was an extra seat on the jet, so if I got myself to Nice I could fly out with the Red Bull boys."

"Seven hours trapped in a tin can with Max, Yuki and Checo?" Pierre rubs his chest. "I've got heartburn just thinking about that."

"It wasn't so bad," you say, finally giving him a proper kiss. "Yuki and I just played games on our phones the whole time. And I beat Max at Scrabble."

"How many Dutch words did he try to use?"

"Mmm, about half the words he tried were definitely not English."

"Yep, sounds about right." Pierre throws an arm around your shoulders and leads you back to the reception desk. He pays for an upgraded room when you aren't looking- though when you're assigned a suite there's not much higher you can go- and slips the woman behind the counter an extra bill for good measure.

"I could use a nap," you note, leaning against Pierre like you'd otherwise fall over. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Pierre checks his watch. "We've got time for a nap."

"We?" Your raised eyebrow is question enough. Pierre smiles and swipes his key card once you're in the elevator with him. He hadn't looked at the price of the room but he was positive it was more than he'd spent on a single night in his entire career, considering it occupies an entire floor of the swanky hotel.

"It's date night," Pierre says simply. Initially his plan had been to invite Charles over for a game of Fifa but the Monegasque wouldn’t fault him for cancelling at the last minute. "We're in one of the most luxurious cities in the world and I'm going to show you off every chance I get. The restaurant down stairs is to die for."

Your attempt at nodding along with what he says is thwarted by a yawn. "Sleep first, eat later." Seeing as it was impossible to deny you, Pierre simply drops a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Wait until you see our room." The way your eyes light up when he says our room makes him want to say it again and again just to see you sparkle.

"I know you upgraded it, Mr. I-think-I'm-sneaky." You uncurl yourself from against his arm when the elevator chimes. "How much did it cost?"

"A few extra pennies."

The stainless steel doors open directly into the suite. The living space is dominated by a curving crescent of full length windows overlooking the cerulean harbor and the jagged steel of the city skyline beyond. Suitcase forgotten, your jaw drags along the floor as you toe off your shoes in favor of sinking onto one of the half moon couches situated around a low coffee table.

"Did you get some sort of bonus you didn't tell me about?" Pierre sees your inner engineer cataloging the chandelier dripping crystals over the carved dining table and the pattern of the black veined marble flooring. "This cost more than a few pennies."

"I didn't really look at the price so it's possible," he admits. In the end it was worth it to see you like this, happy as a pig in mud. Pierre was in his element at the track you were in yours in beautiful buildings. For all Pierre cared you could be sharing a dingy room at a motel; it would still be five star worthy with you there.

Every once in a while though, you deserve a bit of pampering for all you put up with. Late nights and months apart wasn’t easy on either of you, but you stuck by him. And when the day comes that Pierre retires or loses his seat, you would be the one there to comfort him. Spending frivolous amounts of money to see you smile was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

In Pierre’s world, money is temporary, you are forever.

"Well I have half a mind to tear into you for spending so much on a room we won't spend all that much time in," you start, your star-speckled gaze landing on Pierre, "the view is too pretty to be upset about."

"Mine isn't half bad either." You laugh, tucking an errant hair behind your ear. You both know he isn’t referring to the glittering bay or the expensive furnishings.

"Up," Pierre demands softly, holding out his hand. Your hand is warm and dwarfed by his long fingers but you barely seem to notice. The heart in his chest pounds for no discernable reason as he leads you down the narrow hall past doors leading to what he can only assume are bedrooms and bathrooms, to the one at the end of the hall. Based on his mental floor plan this one has the best view, if he's guessed correctly.

Your breezy oh confirms his hunch. You stutter at the threshold, coming up short behind him to bathe in the beauty of the sea, dotted through with white sails. Sunlight twinkles off the waves and if he breathes deep enough, he can almost smell the salt.

"Come on," Pierre says with a chuckle, urging you to fall into the fluffy down of the bed with him. You follow reluctantly, too enamored by the sights to pay any real attention to how Pierre arranges your limbs to his liking, your head resting on his chest and your joined hands laying atop his stomach.

"How about that nap?" He murmurs, running the fingers of his free hand through your unbound hair.

You sigh and snuggle in closer. It was rare that Pierre had the opportunity to steal moments like this during a race week, when he had nothing better to do than tangle himself in you.

"I'll tell you a story."

Just as he expected, you leap at the offer. "Can you tell me the one about the time you and Charles got in trouble when you were karting?"

Normally he opts for something fictional that allows him to embellish the details to fit his narrative. Pierre loved spinning tales rife with laughter and intrigue but he also didn't mind indulging your curiosity.

"Yeah, I can tell that one. Let me set the scene. It's midnight on a Friday at a little track outside Rouen. Two gangly teenage boys, one French and one definitely, positively not French, have nothing better to do than get themselves in trouble…"

**********

Fans began whispering when Pierre set foot in the lobby. The price of stardom was high and had taken years to get used to. Some days the bombardment of people asking for photos and autographs overwhelmed him to the point he was desperate for an out. Most people respected his boundaries and when they sensed it was too much, they backed off. Other days it was simply too much and he would mumble excuses and book it out the door.

The pressure increases tenfold when he steps into the lobby with you on his arm, the pair of you dressed to the nines. He clocks a group of women- clearly tourists based on their body language- perched on a sofa the minute their low murmurs turn into excited squeals.

Pierre mentally braces for you to stiffen or stop altogether but you do neither. You carry on unaffected, either ignoring them or completely oblivious to the women who do nothing to hide their pointed stares.

"Table for two please." You smile at the restaurant host and then at Pierre. You must not have noticed the fans then. You were getting better at coping with the photos and whispers, although your smile usually became forced the longer it dragged on, the polar opposite of you currently beaming at him.

Pierre's shoulders sag a bit when you're led to a secluded table towards the rear of the dining space. Privacy wasn't a luxury he was often afforded. With his back to a wall of windows, there were fewer angles for people to approach from which was a small comfort.

Apparently you find sitting across from Pierre unacceptable because you shuffle your chair to his side of the table before plopping down in it. Pierre shoots you a questioning look but keeps his mouth shut. Inquiring after your motives didn't tend to end well for him.

Instead he leans over to kiss your cheek, relishing the blush his lips coax to the surface.

“It all sounds good,” you say, scanning the menu. “You’ve been here before, I take it?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I have. It’s all wonderful.”

The fans from the lobby remain in the blurred fringes of his vision. Pierre does his best to focus on the waitress explaining the specials. He tunes in automatically to the fan’s heavily accented English as they argue with the host, vying for a table as close to Pierre as possible.

Their phones remain out as an annoyed waiter tries and fails to coax the gaggle of girls into ordering something. Pierre drags a hand through his hair.

Being the center of attention usually doesn't bother him. Coping with the spotlight and the scrutiny that accompanies it is second nature; if the press conferences at Spa in 2019 had taught him anything, it was the importance of a solid poker face. Fame is new to you though and interactions with polite fans make you nervous. Having your picture taken without permission and splashed on social media? Forget about it. Pierre didn't care to find out how you'd react.

"Don't be nervous." You lay a hand on Pierre's thigh. The touch is enough to temporarily pause his bouncing leg. "You're going to do amazing this weekend. All you have to do is finish in front of Checo and you're golden."

How you haven't noticed the girls giggling mere yards away is beyond him. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this perfect, beautiful moment of bliss. You look gorgeous with your painted lips and that sinful black dress that he doubts can be comfortable based on how it hugs your curves like water. To top it off, the pride in your gaze is something to behold, making it impossible to doubt himself when you so clearly and openly believe he can conquer the world.

But it's better to tell you now versus you finding out on social media later. "That's not what's bothering me."

"Oh?" You sit straighter and set the menu down. "What is it then? Because if it's Horner, I have no problem marching in there and chewing him out. Birdy will back me up."

Despite himself, Pierre can't hold back his smile. "Where did all this confidence come from, hmm?"

"I'm learning," you insist, nodding your head firmly. "I'm growing as a person and you should be proud."

"I never said I wasn't." Maybe you'd spent the last month at university interacting with racing fans on campus. Perhaps being exposed to endless questions in a setting you controlled was the key. "Did you take a course in confidence at university?"

You scrunch up your nose and laugh in the most adorable way. Pierre's heart lurches at the sight, regardless if it was him you were laughing at.

"No, but I did make a few new friends that have a habit of pestering me about you." You jab a finger in his side for good measure. "It helped, I think. I don't look for cameras as much anymore. You're my focus now, not paps that may or may not be lurking in bushes."

"I knew it." Pierre is slightly impressed that he'd hit the nail squarely on the head. "I figured there had to be someone at uni responsible for helping you out."

You shrug and purse your lips. "I guess we'll have to see how I handle this weekend. I mean, there's bound to be press trying to corner me, what with the stakes and all. But I think I can take them." You raise your fists in front of your face and Pierre has to laugh.

“Throw a punch like that and you’ll break a finger.” He takes one of your clenched fists in his and untucks your thumb from under your fingers. “That’s how you make a proper fist. And you hit with these knuckles here- make sure you distribute the blow across all four, or you’ll be hurting.”

“Regardless,” you say, jabbing the air a few times, “The shock factor of having little old me in their face ought to be enough to earn me an advantage.”

Pierre finishes the lap to circle back to the topic at hand. "How about we test your confidence?”

"Okay," you say, dragging out the 'a' until it hangs in the air between you like a spider's web.

Pierre rakes a hand through his hair and nods to the girls a few tables away. "They've been taking pictures since we sat down. I'm sure they'll be all over Instagram in an hour, if they aren't already."

You steal a glance at the table in question under the guise of grabbing something from your purse. You hum, contemplating how to go about responding. Pierre is almost certain you'll ask to head back upstairs where it's just the two of you, no cameras or outside influence to ruin your night. His wallet is already out under the table, ready to leave a hefty tip for putting up with your drink-and-dash.

“We aren’t doing anything interesting,” you point out, swirling the knuckle’s worth of whiskey in your glass. “Why do they feel the need to document every passing second?”

Pierre lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s just what some people do. If you’re uncomfortable we can go.”

“Who said anything about leaving?” You scoff, the corners of your lips turned up in a teasing smile. “I figure the best course of action is to give them something worth photographing.”

“What do you-”

Pierre’s yelp is decidedly unsexy when you yank him forward by his tie and attach your lips to his. Caught entirely off guard, he flounders for a moment before he catches himself and sinks into you. One hand on your cheek and the other creeping up your thigh, Pierre slides his tongue over the seam of your lips. You don't hesitate to obey the silent command.

He should be embarrassed. He should be contemplating the consequences of this kiss being splashed across tabloids the world over. He can’t bring himself to care, not when you’re the only release he needs and something as simple as a kiss sets his skin alight and causes any sane thoughts to trickle from his head.

Nothing matters. You're kissing him and your hand is a few inches below his hip on his right thigh, burning a brand that he prays leaves a puckered pink scar. Your scent and your mouth and your unmistakable hiss of pleasure saps the worry from his limbs. He's floating up off his chair, lungs filling with helium as you steal every last molecule of oxygen from the room.

Just like that, Pierre is the one that's roaring to leave for an entirely different reason.

Your hand on his jaw keeps your lips a hair's breadth apart as you whisper, "Are they staring?"

A blissed out nod is all he manages. Thoughts evade him and speaking is utterly out of the question when your lips are within striking distance. He surges forward for another kiss, heavier on teeth than on tongue. He makes sure to hold your lower lip between his teeth longer than necessary, putting on a show now that you've given him permission.

"Pierre," you murmur, using the hand splayed on his chest to push him away. The whine that escapes him is wholly unintentional. Thankfully it's low enough that only you hear, pressing a finger to your sinful lips.

"Down, boy." You extricate his hand from the dimpled flesh of your hip and place it chastely in his own lap. "We've accomplished what I wanted to."

Saying you tossing a wink over your shoulder at the intrusive fans isn't the hottest thing he's ever seen would be a lie. Pierre needed to be sure to thank Daniel's girlfriend the next time he saw her for whatever the hell she said to finally bestow you with a healthy serving of self-assurance because this new you is an entirely different entity, one Pierre intends to explore at the next opportunity.

"Problem solved." You brush your hands together and Pierre half expects to see dust clouds in the air like you'd just finished a woodshop project.

Pierre's brain is operating on a ten second delay. So really, normal operating procedure when he was in your vicinity. "I don't think we've accomplished everything I'd like to get done."

"We have a dinner to finish first." You pick up your menu and resume browsing like you hadn't just forcibly ripped his appetite for anything other than you right out of him. "The salmon sounds good, don't you think?"

"You sound good," Pierre mumbles under his breath and picks up his own menu. God, he'd love to let his fingers drift to the apex of your thighs. You’re always cute when you squirm. It was so simple to do too, all you needed was a brush of his knuckle to your center and you'd be gasping.

"Are you ready to order?"

The soft-spoken waitress bursts Pierre's bubble. She brings fresh drinks and jots down an order of two salmon fillets and leaves with a smile.

How Pierre has managed to make it this long without fucking you is beyond him. From the moment you surprised him in the lobby, his limbs have been thrumming with energy. And now your surprise kiss had been the pebble that preceded an avalanche of feverish longing. Those red painted lips would look better wrapped around his-

The pointed toe of your shoe digs into his calf. "Quit staring."

"Either you let me daydream or you let me take you upstairs,” Pierre quips back, licking his lips before he can catch himself.

"Can we get through one date without you mentally undressing me?"

Pierre dips his grin in a vat of lust, his words dripping with waxy promise. "No. Not when I know that as soon as we're alone, you'll let me do what I want."

"And what about what I want?" Your pouted lip does absolutely nothing but push his mind further in the gutter.

"Your wish is my command." His hand floats under the hem of your dress to graze along your core. And there it is, that sound he would swim across oceans to hear, your chastizing gasp of surprise.

The cross way you whisper his name is a thing of dreams. No one else's name sounded like that on your tongue, that honor is reserved solely for Pierre. The two breathless syllables are more exhilarating than standing on the top step. The rush of adrenaline that accompanies them is ten times what he is rewarded with when passing a world champion on track. He'll give it all up to hear you repeat it when you're pissed or lonely or tired- he just wants your voice echoing in his ears like a broken record.

You move his hand a safe distance down your thigh, nearly at your knee. Pierre gives your leg a sharp squeeze. "Can we please get our dinner to go?"

"Not tonight. You can wait, mon amour."

The French rolls off your tongue awkwardly but Pierre will be the last to complain. Your encyclopedic knowledge of which buttons to press when had come back to bite him in the ass.

"That's not fair." His pout is a mirror image of the one you turned on him earlier. "You can't use my own language against me."

You pat your pockets as if searching for something and shrug when you come up empty. "I don't see a rulebook anywhere."

Reminding you what happens when you tease him shoots to the top of his to do list. "I'll play if you wanna play, ma chérie. Don't bite off more than you can chew."

"I think you're forgetting who usually wins off track."

Pierre can't help it. He takes advantage of his superior reflexes and surges forward to claim another searing kiss. You did normally win and it wasn't for lack of trying on his end. No matter the tactic he employed, you generally got the better of him. Not that he minded.

"Why don't you come here?" He purposely grazes his lips to your ear as he speaks and grins when a shiver runs down your spine.

"Because we are in public," you hiss back, though the way your head tips to the side betrays you. Pierre's nose touches the underside of your jaw and you struggle to find your breath.

"We should eat." A self satisfied smile splits his face when he notices your heaving chest and wild eyes.

"When did our food get here?" Pierre did that. He got you so worked up that you blocked out your surroundings so thoroughly that you hadn't heard the clink of plates. Pierre wears that fact like a badge of honor.

"A minute or so ago. Remind me again who's winning?"

"We may be even," you relent, adjusting the skirt of your dress. Yeah, even isn't the word he would pick, considering how flustered you are. It's a good thing Pierre has learned to eat with one hand because he doesn't plan on moving the arm currently slung over the back of your chair anytime soon. His finger traces the letters of his name on the bare skin of your shoulder. Whether you realize what he's writing or not you lean into him as you eat, falling in closer with each lemon-scented bite.

"Excuse me?"

You don't bother to look up but Pierre does. Disappointment washes over him when he is met by one of the fans, apparently deeming now to be the appropriate time to approach him, while clearly on a date, in the middle of a meal.

"I'll be happy to take a photo once I'm done." Sometimes passive aggressiveness works best with people like this, who have no regard for personal space. "Right now I would prefer to be alone, thanks."

"Oh, right." The blonde giggles, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You two make a… cute couple?" The end of her sentence turns up and your fork falls to your plate.

Pierre tucks you a little closer to his side, both possessive and reassuring. "We know."

Your discomfort is plain, the way you curl in on yourself making his heart hurt. But you surprise him by taking a deep breath and turning to the woman with a smile.

"If you'd let us finish our meal, I would appreciate it. We can stop by on our way out and chat with you." Sylvie would be proud of that answer. Diplomatically phrased and said with a smile that negates any negative connotations.

"Of course." The blonde's smile is sickly sweet. To Pierre she adds, "Good luck on Sunday."

Pierre nods. The woman's rude behavior didn't warrant a verbal response. She mumbles a feeble goodbye before slinking back to her friends. If nothing else at least their whispers died down, put out by his behavior.

Pierre loves his fans. Without them he wouldn't have a sport to compete in, and of course he appreciated their endless support. Stopping for photos or autographs had gotten him in trouble with Marko multiple times for being late to meetings that usually turned out to be pointless anyway. As a whole, their enthusiasm gives him an extra boost on Sundays and lifts his spirits after a bad weekend.

And then sometimes there were people like the blonde woman that had interrupted his dinner. Those people he has far less tolerance for. Basic manners were imperative to Pierre giving someone the light of day, otherwise he saw no need to waste time and energy on them.

"All good, ma chérie?" Pierre rubs your shoulder, hoping it'll stave off any anxiety.

"I'm good," you confirm with a nod of your head. "Let's finish up and go to our room."

Pierre presses a kiss to your temple and scarfs down the remainder of his meal in record time. He flags down the waitress and hands her his card, leaving a substantial tip when she returns with the check.

“Can you distract that table?” Pierre asks, aware of how unusual the request likely is. “I’d like to get out of here without making a scene.”

“Of course,” the waitress says with a warm, sincere smile. Pierre waits until she loudly announces, “Excuse me? Your card has been declined, do you have another method of payment?”

Neither of you can contain your laughter as you stumble through the lobby. In the sanctity of the elevator, Pierre wraps his arms around your middle and molds himself against you. "You look especially gorgeous tonight."

"You're not too bad yourself." One of your hands finds the nape of his neck, guiding his face to the crook of your shoulder. Pierre takes the invitation at face value and nips at the sensitive skin. Your hum goes straight to his cock, twitching against the swell of your ass.

"I win," you purr, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging.

For once Pierre is glad to be in the world's slowest elevator. Since he's already lost, he might as well lose in style. He spins you to face the mirrored wall. And because he knows it'll make you tremble, he trails his hand lazily over your throat to grip your jaw.

A low moan leaves your parted lips. Pierre studies your reflection, from your hands gripping the railing to the skin dimpling beneath his fingers.

"Fine, you win this time. But I think you and I both know, I'll come out ahead in the end."

**********

Waking up to soft kisses will never get old. Thirty years from now when Pierre was retired and you fell asleep each night with his arms around you, you'd still yearn for the brush of his lips to your cheeks, neck, and shoulders to rouse you from the violet shores of sleep.

"Good morning," you mumble, a sentiment which Pierre echoes with his gruff, sleep tinged voice. "Sleep well?"

"Best sleep I've ever gotten. You tired me out last night." You both grin at the reminder. Fueled by a slight tinge of jealousy after the women at the restaurant made eyes at him, you had refused to let him tumble into bed until well past midnight, when you both were well and truly exhausted. Thursday is press day, nothing strenuous that he couldn't afford to be a little sore for.

Pierre rolls to straddle your hips, lips capturing yours for a proper kiss. The taste of freshly brushed mint makes your skin tingle when he tugs your lip between his teeth.

"It's too early for that." You throw your arms around his neck and urge him to bend his elbows until he falls atop you. It takes him a moment to snuggle in, his head on your chest and his arms sliding under your middle.

You're convinced that ten minutes in this position can cure any ailments, physical or mental. The weight of your soulmate pressing into you, forcing you to focus on breathing instead of whatever might be bothering you. It's easy to forget about the outside world when everything you require to be happy is wrapped around you like a blanket.

You stroke a hand over Pierre's hair until his breathing evens out, only rousing him when the sun peeks over the harbor. Amiable silence fills the space as hues of orange and pink paint Pierre in swaths of color. Suddenly you're seeing him for the first time, completely enamored by the angles of his cheekbones and the sharp cut of his stubbled jaw. The golden hour of dawn shines on it's golden boy, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he turns towards the warmth calling him home.

"Pyry and I are going for a run soon if you'd like to come with us."

You cringe. Running used to be fun when you were in school, but seeing as you hadn't properly trained in years you doubted you could keep up with a pair of professionals. "How about you text me when you're back and I'll come to the gym with you? It looks fancy, if George's snaps are anything to go by."

Pierre trails kisses up your sternum, over your neck and only speaks once he's reached your lips. "Looking at other men, are you?"

"Shut up," you laugh, shoving him off you. "I'll have you know it was a rare shirt on picture, thank you very much. I don't need to see George shirtless ever again."

A satisfied, "Good," rumbles from Pierre's chest and he stands to stretch the lingering sleep from his limbs. Clad in nothing but a pair of white four inch inseam shorts and with his back to you, you grin as an idea forms. You scramble forward before he can process you moving and smack his ass so hard he yelps.

"Gotcha!" You devolve into a fit of giggles as he rubs the spot you hit, whining about you taking advantage of his distraction.

"You like it," you tease, and Pierre remains strictly pouty for two whole seconds before he breaks into a grin and nods. "Now put on a shirt and get downstairs before Pyry calls you and you get reamed for being late again."

Pierre leans down for one last kiss before rushing off to the lobby. Waking up before the sun leaves you plenty of time to laze about if you choose to. Kicking your butt into gear seems like the better option so you drag yourself out of the relative warmth of the sheets and shuffle to the kitchen in search of coffee.

Apparently the suite came fully stocked with a handful of different freshly ground blends, and much to your delight you recognize one of your favorites. You scroll through the room service menu on your phone while it brews. Without a doubt Pyry would rope you in to whatever workout he had planned for Pierre, albeit giving you a watered down version of what he gave the driver. Regardless, it would still be grueling and you needed to fuel up.

A hearty breakfast of fresh fruit and cinnamon sugar oatmeal shows up at your door ten minutes later. You're just finishing up when Pierre's snapchat comes through and you nearly choke.

Come on down baby

The sweaty, shirtless selfie that accompanies the caption is wholly unnecessary. Pierre's stupid tongue sticks out and the fingers of one hand are tangled in his hair. The muscle of his bicep is perfectly flexed, an obvious but appreciated attempt to rile you up. You shamelessly screenshot the photo before it disappears to save it for later.

You change into a simple set of leggings and a loose t-shirt and head to the elevator, curating your music queue on the way down.

The outdoor gym overlooks a pool of the same crystalline blue as the sea not far beyond. A few Alpha Tauri and Red Bull team members you recognize occupy a handful of machines. You wave at the ones you recognize, including Alana- she was a sight for sore eyes. You make a mental note to catch up with her at some point today, as you're sure to cross paths again.

Pyry spots you before Pierre does and waves you over. "Start stretching," the fin orders, "I'm glad you dressed for the occasion this time."

"I've learned my lesson." You plop down next to Pierre and lean into a stretch to stage whisper, "He drives you this hard?"

"Get used to it." Pierre shoots you a grin that sets you on fire. He's got a shirt on now, which means he only took it off earlier to send you that snap. Tease.

Any other time you'd chide him for his behavior but this weekend you let it slide. Tension has been brewing since the moment you spotted him across the lobby; simple things tip you off to the stress winding up in him. If flirting could offer him a small amount of release, then so be it, even if it was torturous for you to see him like this and be unable to do anything about it.

"If you two can't get through this without making heart eyes at each other I'll separate you," Pyry warns, pushing at your shoulders and helping you stretch a few more inches. You hide your wince and laugh, leaning into the slight burn.

"Sorry coach," Pierre chimes in, "I'll keep my hands to myself, don't worry." He accepts Pyry's hand to be pulled to his feet. Bouncing on his toes he throws a few punches at the air and catches your gaze over his trainer's shoulder.

"Definitely not you I'm worried about."

As Pyry says it, you blow Pierre a kiss. You quickly tuck your hands behind your back when Pyry's head whips around. Your cheshire grin gets you off the hook and Pyry just points to the stationary bike in silent command. At least he was going easy on you.

Headphones pumping a Pierre curated playlist, you lose track of time as you cycle mile after mile. Pierre sparring on the fringes of your vision helps distract you from burning muscles. Sweat soaks his black tee and is absorbed by the waistband of his oddly patterned orange and white shorts. No matter how incessantly you tease him for his fashion choices, he never fails to amaze you for how well he pulls it all off.

Lost in the music and the incredible view, it takes you a moment to realize Pierre's lips aren't just moving silently. You yank out an ear bud and blubber, "What did you say?"

Pierre's breathless laugh is accompanied by a shake of his head. He half curls in on himself, hands on his hips and mouth agape as he tries to catch his breath. The image stirs memories of the last night, when he was panting just like that but with nothing obscuring you from drinking in his godlike muscled body.

"I said," Pierre starts, walking over to kiss your cheek, "I need a shower before press. I'm going upstairs. You can stay here and Pyry can take you through some more-"

"No thanks!" Pyry shrugs off your immediate refusal. Training top tier athletes and training you sat at polar opposite ends of the spectrum and often times the Fin pushed you farther than you thought capable. You'd like to be able to function tomorrow, thank you very much.

The elevator ride to the suite is filled with salted kisses and wet touches. A breadcrumb trail of clothing leads from the stainless steel doors to the glass encased shower. There's not enough time to worship Pierre like you'd wanted to but he sighs when you run a soapy cloth over his body. Your lips follow the suds, leaving light kisses to the tender muscles. By the time you pour shampoo in your palm and lightly scratch at his scalp to work it into a lather, he's practically purring.

Media appearances are a necessary part of being a driver. Pierre usually handled them well enough on his own and occasionally with Sylvie's help when she could be bothered to get off her phone for a few minutes, but having you with him is different. You pride yourself on reading him well enough to know exactly what he needs. Some days, when the press isn't a pack of rabid animals, he returns to his driver's room and needs nothing more than a quick kiss to have him righted. On days when the pack of piranhas descend to feast on the bones of a bad session or the whispering of drama, a delicate touch is required.

If your suspicion proves right, today would be the latter. Being ahead of the frenzy might take the edge off when Pierre got in the thick of it.

When the tap cuts off, you step out and wrap Pierre in a fluffy towel. His smile communicates how grateful he is- and that he knows what you're doing.

You hand him a stack of Alpha Tauri branded clothes and sit on the foot of the bed. "Do you want me to come to the paddock with you?"

Pierre pauses with his shirt half on. "If you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind." You pluck a few of his rings from the nightstand and hold out your hand. "You have to complete the look."

"What would I do without you," he murmurs, slipping one on his pinky and one on the thumb of his opposite hand.

"Probably be ridiculed for your lack of fashion sense."

**********

As a driver's girlfriend, you had come to grips with being relegated to a background role when it came to team events. You have to ask Sylvie to repeat herself twice before her words sink in.

"Come with me to the media pen," the woman grits out. Apparently Tost intended to have some fun torturing the woman before he fired her at the end of the season. Hopefully whoever Pierre got stuck with next was a bit more personable than Sylvie.

"Pierre told me to wait here," you say, gesturing to the garage buzzing around you. You were a rock and the mechanics were the stream, parting around you without a care in the world. You were barely a blip on their radar, everyone too honed in on their tasks to pay you any mind.

"And now I'm telling you to come with me. The other wives and girlfriends are in attendance and it'll look odd if you're not there too." Clearly, Sylvie didn't like the idea. And any idea that pissed Sylvie off sounded like a good one.

"I know the way," you say and breeze past her. Your feet follow the familiar path to the cluster of reporters crowded around metal gates, keeping the drivers in like caged animals. It was fitting, considering how often people referred to the sport as a traveling circus.

Pierre is already knee deep in an interview with one of the more popular journalists in the bunch, Will Buxton. Careful to stay out of the lens, you lean against the guardrail to listen in. So far it seems to be going well, Pierre's laugh brings a smile to your face.

"So, Pierre." Will shifts on his feet, pausing to create a sense of drama. "Your seat for next year. We know you'll be in Alpha Tauri or at Red Bull. Only a few points separate you from being demoted right back to eighth in the championship, which would officially relegate you to keep your seat at Alpha for the upcoming season. Are you worried about a mechanical problem or an accident stripping you of your chance to prove yourself and leaving you stuck where you are?"

Your stomach sinks. Buxton knew how to phrase a question, you had to give him that. Each word had been carefully chosen to elicit an emotional response from Pierre. You hate seeing him backed into a corner, forced to answer the same questions again and again, helpless to prevent it.

"Well first of all I'd like to stay that I'm not stuck at Alpha." Pierre shifts his weight and you exhale. Buxton's poisoned dart had missed its mark.

"Given a few years of development I know we could have a really competitive car. But it's more so that I'm ready to move up, fight with the leaders now instead of waiting. I'm in my prime and I don't want to let that pass me by.

"So no, I'm not worried about things that are out of my control. My team has given me an amazing car this year and I'm not concerned about mechanical problems. Things out of my control aren't worth my energy. There's nothing I can do about it so I don't even give it thought. I'll focus on my driving and pushing my limit- if an accident happens, I'm just a passenger."

"Well said." Buxton nods and turns away, effectively dismissing Pierre. As soon as he's out of the camera's view he's reaching for you and you meet him halfway. Sylvie trails after you as Pierre leads you through to the Alpha garage.

"Five minutes until your briefing," Alana says the second you enter. "And hey girl. Don't think I've forgotten about that sweater I loaned you. I still want it back!"

Your friend doesn't leave any room for rebuttal before heading for the conference room, presumably to set up whatever presentation she had created. Sylvie had disappeared too, leaving you as the only one for Pierre to focus on.

"You think I can do it?" He asks quietly, playing with your interlaced fingers.

"I don't think." You tilt his chin up so he's looking at you. "I know. And I'll be right here when you cross that line on Sunday and bring home points. You've got this, baby. Don't doubt yourself now."

"Pierre!"

Your grip on his chin prevents him from following the voice, not that he would if he could. You shoot him a raucous grin, "Red Bull colors would look pretty good on me, huh?"

Pierre's smile is brighter than all the stars in the sky. "Anything with my name on it will do.”

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fandomscombine · 4 years ago

Text

It's the Lease I Can Do

Platonic! Weasley Twins x Reader

BG: The Weasley twins are so close to having their joke shop become a reality. They had found the perfect location but they had hit a minor problem that could cause them everything. You want to help, but how can you when they, the birthday boys themselves had given up?

a/n: I had this idea for a almst a year now and waited til ther twins bday to write it. I hope you enjoy.

WC: 2111

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

Fred and George causing a ruckus in the common room is a daily occurrence that everyone is accustomed to. However ever since the start of Year 7, the amount of commotion these two had caused can be counted in one hand.

At first glance, it could be attributed to NEWTS or in this year's case-to a pink toad acting as High Inquisitor. Still, more and more nights the twins had claimed the back corner of the common room.

The last remaining batch of students were making their way through Filch's checkpoint (an added security protection which also serves for Umbridge having a list of names on who comes in and out of Hogwarts). You glanced down at your watch- 2:27pm, they’re late. Weird, the twins never pass a chance to go to Hogsmeade.

You hear the castle door open behind you. Thank Merlin, you thought but instead you were greeted with a disheveled Angelina. “I’m coming! Wait!”

“Have you seen Fred and George?” You called as she ran past you.

“I think I saw them in the common room!” Angelina shouted back.

The common room? “What are they up to now?” You sighed. Stomping heavily up the stairs. “Ditching me….”

“Oi Weaslebees! I know you’re in here!” You rounded the corner of their secret spot. “AHa!”

You caught them red handed, midway into shoving papers into their “Weasley & Weasley'' Trunk. Though what they were hiding, you weren't exactly sure.

“Y/N!” Fred greeted, grabbing onto your shoulders, effectively covering George and the table. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Narrowing your eyes at him. “Really?” Hands on hips you blatantly say “2:15 am, courtyard?? Ring any bells?” Fred shook his head.

Meanwhile George’s head shot up. “Oh shit, y/n we’re so sorry!”

Fred turned to his brother, still clueless on what the heck George was talking about.

Abandoning the trunk, George gave his twin a classic smack on the head. “Hogsmeade, you idiot! We were supposed to all go together.”

“OHHHH FU--” Fred knew he was screwed. “I’M SO SORRY! WE’RE SORRY.” Seizing the messy trunk, he strategized. “Right, here’s the plan: I’m gonna quickly drop this off back in the dorm while you two make your way to the gate. If you run, I guess you can make it. I’ll catch up with you two then.”

“Fred….. We’re not gonna make it” you argued.

“Not if we don’t try.”

“It’s almost 3, Filch would be closing the gates by now.” You sat down on Fred’s empty seat. “Besides we can go to Hogsmeade next time, we could just hang out here. I miss having my best lads around.”

“Awww…we’ve been upgraded from annoying pricks to best lads!” Gushed George, pulling you into a side hug.

“Yea, I could help in whatever it was you guys were doing before I came. I don’t mind.”

At that, you could feel George tense up, his arm around you dropping. “Uhhh…” He looked to the older twin, silently conversing.

You gaze between the boys, sometimes they get so caught up in their scheming that they don’t notice that to others, especially those who had known them for years that their non verbal communication is not so sly.

In the end, Fred gave his brother a subtle shake. “No, that’s alright. I’ll just put this back and we could play gobstones or something, anything you like.”

As Fred headed up to his dorm room, you noticed a piece of paper under the table. Picking it up, the header caught your eye. RE: Lease Agreement. Were the twins looking for a new home after graduation? You didn’t mean to pry. You were close friends, they would tell you if they were moving right? This is big news….you decided to brush it off until another line caught your attention. The shop premise located at Number 93 Diagon Alley. Shop? They are trying to set up shop? That’s brilliant! The twins would get to showcase their inventions to the world! You could feel your pride swell. Leasing Agreements would not proceed if tenants, Mr. Fred Weasley and Mr. George Weasley, are unable to provide an endorser by the date of 31st of March.

“Where’d you get that?” George standing across from you, gobstones on one hand and another pointing at the document. There’s no backing out now.

“It was under the table.” You explained. “I didn’t know you were this far along with the shop.”

“Yea, well it’s not happening now is it?”

“What?”

“Cmon y/n. I know you read it.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright. We aren’t getting the place anyway.”

“Wait what? Why?”

“No endorsers.” George stated matter of factly but you sense the pain in his voice.

“How about your parents surely-”

George laughed. “As if mum would suddenly have a change of heart. You knew how she disapproves of our inventions, calling it a waste.”

“Arthur then.”

“Mum won’t let him.”

“Anyone then?” George huffed in defeat. “How about me! I could back you up.”

“You have to be an adult with a proven financial stability.” He stated, effectively shutting you down. “Forget it y/n. The hold ends in 3 days. We’ve tried everything. Just don’t let Fred know that you know. He’s devastated. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“And no pity, sad eyes!” He added as footsteps are heard descending the staircase.

“But I suck at poker faces!”

“Then let’s hope that Freddie is distracted even to not notice.”

It’s been 4 days since you had sent the letter to your father.

“Dear papa,

I know that this is a huge favour to ask but I believe it would be worth your while.

So remember back in the summer when you caught Fred Weasley, George Weasley and me snooping around with the Extendable Ears but let us go because you were so enamored?

Well turns out the twins and trying to get a shop up and running! How amazing is that?

The only problem is that they need an endorser to back them up in order to proceed with the lease agreements. The are currently on hold for the Shop Number 93 in Diagon Alley until the 31st.

This is where the huge favour comes in. Could you please be their backer? You did say that you’d love to help in some part in their invention, be an investor of sorts. Please papa. I would love to do it myself but I have to wait a couple more months to qualify. Plus it’s their 18th birthday on April 1st. Imagine their surprise if it were to come through.

I’d love to hear from you soon, regardless of your choice.

Your favourite child

y/n.”

The twin’s 18th birthday was spent with absolute love and madness.

Lee had unloaded his stash of butterbeer and firewhiskey, Fred had slipped Angelina with one of their new prank inventions- which changes the person into a sickly color of vomit green, a perfect way to ditch class or events.

Upon learning that the color would last for a few days and would only fade with the ingestion of an antidote, antidote that George said they still had yet to create. Angelina (understandably) threw cake at them. The Gryffindor chaser with perfect aim, hits its mark. However, Fred using his beater skills, instinctively blocks the incoming cake.

Resulting in a wide splat zone. Fred’s arm was covered in frosting, having sprayed everyone around him in whipped cream during the impact. George wasn’t safe too, despite being across from Fred, the rebounce of the cake had made him the new target.

You had just changed into your pajamas when a tapping sound came from your window.

Your family owl, Lanny, was outside carrying a large yellow envelope.

Quickly letting him in, you gave Lanny a gentle pat and brought out some owl treats for the tired bird.

Unscrolling the note tied to his leg, you begin to read.

“My dearest y/n,

My sincere apologies for the late reply, it’s been quite hectic at work.

In regards to your favour, you need not worry. Everything is taken care of. I had met with the landlord of Number 93 Diagon Alley and had all the documents settled. I had also gone and checked to make sure the two lads aren’t being ripped off. Fred and George had picked a nice prime location.

Greet them a happy birthday for me alright? And tell them that I look forward to witnessing them succeed in their endeavors.

They would undoubtedly be bringing a lot of much needed joy into these darkening times. The people would be thankful for them.

I also had Lanny bring the twins’ copy of the Lease Agreement.

I can’t wait to see you all soon.

Much love,

Papa.”

Fred was grateful that their friends had retired into the night, leaving him and George to sulk into the dreadful reality.

“We were this close Georgie, this close!” Fred winced, pinching his fingers close without touching.

“I know but there was nothing else we could have done.” consoled George but even he himself was having a hard time. Number 93 was the perfect location for their joke shop. But now it’s gone.They are back to square one, scouting for locations.

“Fred! George! There you are! I have great news!” You yelled, not caring if you could wake up the other students.

“Oi Y/N! Be careful!.” Even in a bad mood, Fred Weasley couldn’t help being protective.

You banged the envelope on the table. “Surprise! Happy Birthday! From papa and I.”

“Another gift?” wondered George.

“So you don’t want it then?” You challenged, crossing your arms. You tried to look intimidating but the pajamas weren’t doing any good. “Cause I bet a hundred galleons that you’d shit your pants if you were to reject it.”

“That confident eh?” Smirked Fred, taking the contents of the envelope out. “ What do you think is so grand that Georgie and I would---BLOODY HELL! Y/N!” Fred kept looking down at the paper and up to you, unbelieving.

“What is it Freddie?” asked George leaning over to read whatever it was that left his brother speechless.

Re: Lease Agreement

Mr. y/l/n has submitted his endorsement to Mr. Fred Weasley and Mr. George Weasley.

The turnover of the leasing property of Shop Number 93 Diagon Alley would begin on April 1st …..

“Oh My- Y/n? Is this real?” George whispered, afraid that if he were any louder this dream would end.

“Yes, absolutely, 100%.” You affirmed. “The shop is yours! Opff-”

George embraced you tight, catching you off guard. You could feel your right shoulder getting wet. “Heyya big guy, don’t cry.” Running a hand up and down his back.

“But how?” Fred with brows creased was still stuck in a trance, you could see the paper shake in his grasp.

“You left the agreement noticed a couple of days ago. I might have accidentally read it. George said to not let you know cause you might get angry-”

“YOu KNEW?!?”

“George only knew I saw the paper. Nothing else.” You defended. “I thought i might try and help, so I called in a favour with papa. You knew how much he was impressed with the Extendable Ear, so I mentioned if he wanted to back you up. I only got his reply just now, said he’d love to and got onto ironing out the paperwork and viola!” Pointing at the document. “Oh and he also said Happy 18th Birthday, looking forward to your success and the people would be thankful for bringing a lot of much needed joy into these darkening times.”

“Thanks Y/n but this is a lot we can’t possibly-”

You cut Fred off before he could say more. “Oh please, you have done countless things for me. And I know what you’re gonna say- but see you would do the same for me. Besides think of this as your first investors. We want to help. We see your potential, we know you two, Fred, George, are gifted with bringing laughter and joy to people with your inventions."

"Thank you, truly y/n and to your dad too." Fred admitted, opening himself up. "No one's really backed us up with our inventions before, we've been always told off for being childish. It really means a lot."

“Hey, it’s the lease I could do.” You replied, causing the twins to chuckle immediately lightening up the mood.

It's great to see them relax again after weeks of stressing over the shop. Times might be changing but at least tonight, you got your best lads back.

Everything Taglist : @gruffle1

HP Taglist: @onlyfreds

#fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #fred weasley #geroge weasley #fred weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #george weasley fluff #weasley twins #weasley x reader #fred and george weasley #fandomscombine writes #fred weasley angst #george weasley angst

120 notes · View notes

7wanderingpaws · 4 years ago

Text

Always, yours (6) M

Word count: 9.5K (!)

Warnings: language, mature content, angst

tags: @geniusloey @taemin-jaemin @wooya1224 @f4ncyvelvet

Masterlist / story masterlist

<– Previous

“Is it still happening?”

Your doctor was surprised when you were sitting in her office. The triplets were with Baekhyun who was standing just beside your chair. On his chest and back he had Jun and Juna and Junhee was in the basket carrier, for once sleeping peacefully.

You nodded, trying not to feel ashamed. It wasn’t your fault that you were overproducing milk. “It seems like it doesn’t have a proper schedule. After I breastfeed or pump it starts leaking again.”

Your doctor nodded seriously, frowning. “Did you release breast milk when the babies cry? Or perhaps after an orgasm?”

Her question made you beetroot red in the face and you quickly looked down on your connected hands , suddenly feeling hot and embarrassed.

You doctor let out a little chuckle, mumbling a “cute” when you felt Baekhyun’s comforting hand on your shoulder. To your utter horror, he replied: “She releases milk at any time of the day but during sex she was complaining about feeling the pressure in her breasts. I helped her out with it so that we could carry on,” he informed, not ashamed at all.

It made you remember the time when he was shy to ask whether you two could have sex during your pregnancy. And now he said this. A typical upgrade of a parent. You lose all sense boundaries. You did the deed and now you have kids. As simple as that.

Your eyes widened. “Well, yes, that’s true. I felt pressure during eh, sex, and I knew there would be a release so…”

“That is totally natural, nothing to be embarrassed about,” reassured you the doctor kindly. “It’s only normal for the father to try the breast milk, even more so during sexual intercourse.” She paused for a moment. “So, this is what we are gonna do - we will try a block feeding technique. You will have to empty your breasts every morning, and then try feeding your little ones. If Jun is still struggling with refluxes, this should help. He is very small but if he feeds well and correctly, I’m sure he will be just fine.”

You nodded, still feeling worried. Jun was doing well but sometimes the milk wouldn’t sit well with him which would cause the reflux.

“The first dosage of the milk consists of lactose, the fat comes quite later on during the feeding process. You are feeding three mouths, so naturally there are gaps in between and each baby can get a different intake.”

“So my wife can still breastfeed, right?” asked Baekhyun, his hand caressing your shoulder gently. You enjoyed the touch; it reminded you that you were in this together.

“Yes, of course. This technique should not be done longer than five days, however, so make sure to check for any improvements, alright?” When you nodded, she said: “I’ll examine your breasts, now, if you’ll please move to the bed and remove your top and bra.”

Ah, how much was this uncomfortable but you got used to it completely. Everyone present in the room knew your breasts very well. It almost seemed like they knew them better than you did.

“You can also try to start using formula,” suggested gently the doctor as you took off your shirt and unclasped your bra. You were sitting on the bed in front of her, the colder air in the room creating goosebumps. “There is nothing wrong with that.”

“I know,” you murmured, shivering at the air hitting your warm skin.

“Oh, dear, you lost quite some weight,” she said when she took a better look. “Aren’t we thinking too much about the babies and too little about our mummy, hm?” she asked in a chastising tone but with a motherly smile.

You stole a glance at Baekhyun who was caressing Jun’s head, playing with the thin baby hair, while giving you a thoughtful look.

“Thank you for coming with us today,” you told Baekhyun once you finally made it home. Triplets fell asleep during the transfer, so you were trying to eat late lunch before they would wake up.

“Sweetheart,” murmured Baekhyun with a frown and he stepped closer to you, stopping you from slurping the warm soup he heated up. “What do you mean? Of course I’d come. I’m your husband.”

You shrugged, not looking him in the eye. “I know but still… I guess your job is important-“

“No, it isn’t important. It isn’t more important than you are,” he murmured gently and caressed your cheek, expecting you to look at him but you didn’t. “What’s wrong? Why wouldn’t you look at me?”

Slowly, you dragged your eyes up to meet his down-turned ones, soft and gentle. “Just a lot in my head’s all. Our parents will be arriving in a few days so I need to clean up.”

The fact that you were getting anxious because of many things happening at the same time made you not want to talk about it. Taking care of the babies, welcoming your family, making a comfortable home for them while they were there - it was a little too much.

“I’ll do that, okay? You can start the laundry but I don’t want you to stress about this, am I clear?” His voice wasn’t stern but it was strict enough for you to nod obediently, preferring the idea of Baekhyun doing all the work while you could rest a little bit.

“Good,” he smiled, satisfied, “and now give me a kiss.”

You managed to smile as you strained your neck, kissing him over the bar table. He hummed in appreciation, prolonging the precious moment.

“Now eat,” he ordered teasingly and you laughed breathily when you sat down, your tummy rumbling with hunger.

You were eating in peaceful silence, the clinking of cutlery the only noise in the apartment. The day was barely half-way done but you felt tiredness creeping up your limbs; the more you ate, the sleepier you became.

When you and Baekhyun finished, you stood up, leaving the dishes on the table and walked over to him, taking his arm in your hands and gently pulling on it. “Let’s have a little nap together, I’m tired.”

Baekhyun observed you with amusement. “Of course. I’ll just clean up and follow you.”

You pouted and shook your head, widening your eyes at him as you dragged him out of the kitchen and straight into your bedroom. He laughed as he let you, and when you reached the bed you slipped under the covers, the AC having cooled down the apartment into the perfect cuddling temperature. Baekhyun followed you and once the both of you made yourselves comfortable, you found your way to him, your head resting on his chest while he tucked your head under his chin.

“Sleep, sweetheart,” he cooed into your hair. “You’ve had a long day already.”

You hummed and completely melted at the way he rubbed your back in slow, dragging motions. His scent and slow heartbeat finally made you lose conscious, dreamland welcoming you with open arms.

“Look at these outfits!” Sukyeong pushed her phone into your face excitedly and you tried to not show your discomfort too obviously. You frowned with a pout as you observed a gorgeous summer dress on a model, the slit of the skirt revealing her long legs. “You’d look stunning in it!”

You sighed and reached for your cup of green tea. You were sitting in a posh tea house where one needed a reservation in order to be able to get in. Sukyeong always had your back and she promised to pay. Hence you didn’t bother looking at the price tag that went over 30.000won per one serving “You know I’d look horrible.”

She shook her head resolutely but her eyes were trained on the screen as her finger was eagerly scrolling through an endless Instagram feed with beautiful women. “You can pull off any look.”

Biting your lip, you nodded, feeling your eyes burn up with frustrating tears. Sukyeong was a great friend. But she was never a mother and had never been through a pregnancy. And it showed.

“You lost a lot of weight,” she finally looked up at you and put her phone away when she spotted your red eyes. “Since the last time I saw you- do you even eat?”

Not wanting to talk, you averted your gaze to the surroundings, noting how the tea room was peaceful. There were lots of issues within you that you refused to address, and none of them was about having triplets. Everything had to do with you.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you the past couple of weeks,” she told you, reaching for your hand.

“No, no, you have your own life. I barely had time to think, I was so busy.”

“I feel like a lot has happened during that time,” she murmured with worry, observing your pale cheeks. Sukyeong knew you for quite a while. She knew you as a determined and happy woman, very independent. Now she thought that she saw someone who really needed someone. “Is everything okay with you and Baek?”

“It’s great!” you replied quickly.

“What happened?” she asked with even more worry and this time your tears grew like sprouts, escaping your eyes. “Shh, if you don’t want to talk about it-“

“There is so much going on and at the same time…” you shrugged, not sure how to express yourself, “...nothing is happening at all.”

Sukyeong gave you some time to collect your thoughts for which you were grateful. As much as she could be a little too excited, she knew when to shut up and listen.

“A couple of weeks ago Junho appeared at our doorstep in the morning, he came with a sweater that didn’t belong to me, and Baekhyun didn’t take it too well. We had a fight. Since then, yeah,” you sighed, tapping at your wet cheeks, “it’s all weird.”

Sukyeong was silently looking at the smoothness of the table, at the tea pots filled with fresh green tea.

“It’s fine, nothing worrisome I guess,” you added, not wanting to sound like the party pooper.

She murmured your name, and looked at you with something that looked like guilt in her eyes. “I need to tell you something…”

“Yeah? What is it?” you asked nonchalantly.

She sighed, closing her eyes for a second before she had to face your obliviousness. “It’s me who sent Junho to your house.”

“What!” you gasped so loudly some people turned to look at you, and Sukyeong quickly brought her chair closer to you, seeking a little privacy from the prying eyes.

“I gave him the sweater and told him to visit you! But my intentions were…” she trailed off, looking like a kid caught with a cookie.

“What the hell? What were your intentions?”

Oh boy, you looked pissed. Your eyes were burning up with anger.

“I wanted Baekhyun to meet him and… and… well, you know, bring some fire into your relationship-“

“Jesus Christ, Sukyeong!” you groaned, mad at her but still unable to fight the furious blush at her words. “That’s ridiculous! Me and Baek are married in case you forgot,” you added in a loud whisper. “It’s not like he just knocked me up and left!”

“I know, I know, but he was always MIA and I didn’t want him to neglect my best friend! You’re left alone with three kids!”

“What’s that have to do with making Baekhyun jealous? We had a huge fight and our relationship has been a little angsty since then.” Well, from your point of view at least. Baekhyun acted like all was fine but you couldn’t tell whether he really acted or he was actually that clueless about the underlying issues you both had. Let alone, the fight was nasty and you still had a lot on your mind to tell him but refrained from speaking up. You didn't even finish the talk after the huge fight like he said he wanted to do.

“Just so you know, you’re way too lenient about him and his darn professor job. You’ve got three babies for Christ’s sake.”

“But we need money! I’m not working and he is the only source of income we have. We live in that darn upscale apartment but at what cost? It’s hard to keep up with that and with three babies that need a nappy change almost every second hour of the day.”

“I understand it’s hard but Baekhyun does not work hard enough for you.”

Your nose prickled in an instant because she hit the right spot. You promptly looked away, wanting to avoid her fiery gaze.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Your silence told Sukyeong more than enough. She sighed and crossed her legs. “What was the fight about? You said after Junho appeared you had a fight.”

After several seconds of hesitation you told her. The highlight, of course, was Baekhyun’s harsh words about your jealousy when in fact it was all pregnancy issues at the time.

“No way he said that,” she mumbled in astonishment, her eyes looking somewhere far in the distance. “He dared to twist something like that?”

You could only shrug again. “It’s already resolved. We talked it out, he apologized and I’m not planning to keep grudges against him. I can’t fight with him, Sukyeonga. If I do, it feels like I’m going against everything that is me. He is part of me.”

Sukyeong could only sigh; both in affection and slight frustration. She knew how much of a strong relationship you and Baekhyun shared, but as your close friend she was worried. As much as she trusted Baekhyun and considered him a close friend as well, he was still a man.

“You need to be stronger than that,” she told you finally with a gentle tone as she held your hand. “I’m not implying anything more, just that you should always know your worth. Even when you are head over heels for each other.”

You sighed, though a little frustratingly. “I understand what you are trying to say, Sukyeonga. I really do…”

“You need to find a hobby or a job. I know you can’t do much with triplets needing your care and even sitters are pricey-“

“I’m not leaving my kids with a sitter!”

“-so you need to find work that you could do from home.”

Another sigh left your lips, your body completely deflating. “I’m already looking around for possible jobs but yeah… I’m tied down for a bit, at least until the munchkins are a little older and can start the kindergarten.”

Sukyeong nodded in understanding. “Whatever it will be like in the future, I'll support you. And make sure to show Baekhyun you’re not tied down to him.”

The time for Baekhyun’s graduation ceremony came very fast. It was a given when every day became identical with the previous one. However, the anxiety you’d been feeling due to your family arriving was just rising by each day and you didn’t like the uncomfortable pressure it left you within your chest. With crying babies, and a lot to plan for their grandparents, you felt a little suffocated. Baekhyun, even though being home a lot more just as he promised, was not that much of a consolation. You had anxiety and you didn’t even realize it.

“I’m going to go pick them up at Seoul station,” told you Baekhyun when the time came. He had his phone and wallet prepared and he was walking over to you, seated in the living room where you were feeding Jun. Gradually, you were changing their feeding habits, mixing in some formula for the babies that were growing like mushrooms after rain.

You felt your eyes burn up with tears. For whatever reason. “Okay, update me when you’re with them.”

He hummed and leaned over you, his hand resting behind you on the backrest, wafting the faint mix of his perfume and baby detergent your way. “We’ll be back with you soon.”

You finally looked up when you felt him puckering his lips for an expecting kiss. He saw the way your eyes glistened and he moved away slightly.

“Babe, are you crying? What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, frustration rising. “I’m good. I’ll be good by the time you’ll come home. I’m just-“ you stopped abruptly, shaking your head. “I’m fine there is no need to overthink this.”

“Shh, sweetheart, you’re blabbering right now,” he sat down next to you, bringing his free hand up to your cheek. “Calm down.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and you unintentionally squeezed Jun as well. He let out a little cough and you quickly eased up the hold, not wanting him to get sick.

“Give me Jun and tell me what’s wrong,” suggested Baekhyun with worried eyes. He reached out for the baby only for it to whine when he tried to disattach his little mouth from your nipple. “Junnie, let mummy go for a bit.”

You kept crying, tears creating small waterfalls on your cheeks. Letting your head drop back on the backrest of the sofa, you felt Jun finally disattach, his crying growing with every second he spent without his milk.

Baekhyun tried to shush him while his other hand brought your shirt up to cover your chest. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“I’m so nervous and I don’t even know why,” you finally said, the wailing growing more and more irritating , causing small ringing in your ears. “I feel like too much is happening at the same time and I don’t know if I can welcome all of them here while at the same time taking care of the babies!”

Baekhyun was looking at you as he maneuvered Jun into a proper position, his head on his shoulder, his hand gently tapping the crying baby on his back. It was important to recognize when the baby was just greedy and when they really needed to feed. He was aware that you had been sitting with him for a while. “We are in this together, okay? Your priority is always the kids. I’ll take care of the rest- I thought we talked about this?”

“I know! But the house will be so full and busy and overwhelming and I just don’t want them to judge me as a mother and the way I take care of our kids and maybe they won’t like where they’ll sleep-“

“Did you already forget where we come from?” asked Baekhyun seriously and with that your crying ceased. When Baekhyun noticed, he added: “Our parents are anything but judgemental of the city life we live here. If you think they’ll judge the fact that they can sleep on a comfortable bed instead of the floor, then I don’t know if you grew up in the same village like me.”

You looked at him with red, puffy eyes. Jun was whimpering but soon a good burp followed and it made you and Baekhyun a little relieved. No reflux and a good burp. The perfect baby. “I’m sorry I’m just…” your lip trembled again, because you would never forget where you came from. What you and Baekhyun had now was so special, you forgot how a simple life was back home.

“You’re overwhelmed, I understand,” he told you, the gentleness back in his voice now. He reached out with his other hand for your thigh and squeezed it while he supported Jun’s butt with the other one. “I promise I’ll take care of everything. You do you, you do your motherly job and we will be all here to help you. They’ll most probably steal the munchkins away from us anyway,” he laughed softly.

You nodded, sniffing. “You’re right.” I hope they do, you added in your head but you hated yourself immediately for it. You desperately wanted alone time but admitting it out loud would make you feel like a terrible mother. “You should go, honey, let them not wait for you.”

He nodded and caressed Jun a little longer before pressing a kiss to his temple and handing him back to you. “Kiss,” he demanded when you accepted the baby, and you smiled tiredly. You pressed your lips to his smooth cheek and he gave you a boyish smile.

And so, just like that the time passed with Baekhyun’s promises kept. You were relieved to hug your parents and always happy to see Baekhyun’s carefree mother and father.

When you were all at the venue, the huge hall full of older and younger people, you couldn’t help the excitement that was boiling in the pit of your tummy, mixed with anxiety. Baekhyun had to leave the apartment earlier to prepare, and thanks to your parents and in-laws you could make it safely to the busy event.

And so, just like that the time passed with Baekhyun’s promises kept. You were relieved to hug your parents and always happy to see Baekhyun’s carefree mother and father.

You managed to survive the ceremony with babies either looking around with curious stares or eventually falling asleep. There was only one moment when Junhee felt like scrunching up her face, letting you know she was not happy. A whimper left her and when you felt some people turning their heads you were fast to take her in your arms. Her small hands immediately tangled up in your hair because as you reached down it fell over your shoulder.

You shushed her quietly while she made sure to let you know you would have to work harder for her to shut up. So as you bounced gently on your feet to lull her into inactivity, you caught eyes with Baekhyun who was smiling at the sight of you from afar. He was seated there, on the stage, with other masters and doctoral students. They weren’t that many altogether, but they all still heard you nonetheless.

Reciprocating the smile while feeling like you had an intimate moment with your husband, while Junhee was pulling on your hair, Baekhyun chuckled and looked back at the dean doing his closing speech, paying attention.

You sighed, realizing your elevated heart beat thanks to him. Baekhyun’s golden band on his finger shone as his hands were resting on his thighs. Your own band was, as always, comfortably sitting on your fourth finger, that same hand patting Junhee on her small bum gently.

Being at this stage with the munchkins, they were growing to like nonsense talking. You always let them converse away at home, but Junhee really felt like speaking her mind about the dean’s speech.

Gradually, more people paid attention to you rather than to the dean. You tried to shush her quickly, exchanging looks with your mother sitting on the edge seat of the row. She had an endearing smile on her face so it managed to calm you down.

Being with talkative triplets, well in this case just one out of three, came with attention.

“Baby girl, be quiet, hm?” you whispered, puckering your lips against her temple, still bouncing on your heels. “Pay attention to daddy,” you prompted but fruitlessly. “He is right there, aha-“ you turned to point your finger where Baekhyun was seated, not too far away.

Junhee pushed her fingers into her mouth as she blabbered before taking the same hand out of her mouth and smacking you with it on your cheek. Great.

“Junhee, look, daddy,” you shushed in her ear and once again pointed with your finger at your husband. You had his full attention now given how almost everyone could hear the baby talk.

Baekhyun waved cutely, smiling widely, his eyes small crescents. He sent her air kisses and you noticed Junhee watching him intently.

“D-d-d-d…” she kept murmuring and you giggled. Just then she let out a huge, screechy squeal, making you flinch away from the loudness.

“Shhh,” you tried but the dean stopped talking, looking your way now. You felt your heart drop at the attention and you took a few steps back, signaling to your mum that you’ll be outside with her so you wouldn’t disturb anymore.

“What a lively baby in the audience tonight!” pointed the dean, making everyone laugh. You managed to let out an uneasy laugh, bowing to everyone in apologies. “Is it a he or she?” He asked into the microphone and by now your heart was beating with adrenaline.

“Eh…”

“It’s a she, sir.”

Baekhyun looked proud when he spoke up from his seat, his eyes steadily set on you and your daughter.

“Very well, Mr Byun. We should invite her for speeches next time,” joked the dean and once again, everyone laughed.

You smiled, though you were beetroot red in your face. Junhee clapped cheerfully as if she understood, prompting everyone to laugh again.

“Junhee, calm down, baby,” you tried but to no avail. Eventually, you motioned to Baekhyun that you’ll be out and when you made sure the rest of the triplets were still sleeping, you slowly exited the hall; the ceremony would be ending any minute anyway.

After pacing for a couple of minutes outside in the shadow, you talked to Junhee, fueling her interest in talking as much as you could, now that you wouldn't disturb anyone. It was then that a woman in a beautiful, flowing dress approached you, taking off her dark specs before talking to you.

“Excuse me.” You turned around to her, smiling politely. Junhee went quiet at the intrusion. “Are you perhaps Byun Baekhyun’s wife?”

You nodded, a little unsurely. “Yes.”

“Nice to meet you! I knew I saw you somewhere and with the baby that looks a little like him I knew I was right,” she smiled widely at you. “I’m his colleague, I teach sports ethics and diplomacy. Jung Jaina.”

You nodded, her foreign name not processing in your mind. “Ah, nice to meet you.”

Why was Baekhyun always working with such pretty women? They looked so confident, put-together. Or maybe it was just your self-confidence that was so low.

“You’re so beautiful in real life, I can totally see where Baekhyun is coming from,” she added, her eyes sparkling. Her comment was kind, but it still left you insecure. “And this little one too.” She reached over and grabbed Junhee’s reddened cheek, pulling on it gently.

Junhee pouted big time before she pushed her tongue out on the lady in front of her. At that moment, you wanted to laugh so badly, but you tried to keep your face straight.

“She is too young, still,” commented Jaina as if it wasn’t awkward at all. You were nodding when, thankfully, your parents approached you, the hall filling out with people, waiting for the graduates to come out.

“Ah, here you are, daughter-in-law,” smiled Baekhyun’s father gently. “Let me handle her now, you worked enough,” he rasped and reached out for Junhee who was enjoying the attention.

“Very nice family, indeed,” commented Jaina as he watched you handing Junhee to her grandfather. “As you know, Baekhyun will go to Japan in September,” she started and you turned to her politely, letting her know you were paying attention. “It’s a great opportunity for him to grow. He has a huge potential. Our previous dean was young. I could imagine Baekhyun as a young dean too, if he’d work hard enough.”

“He just started. It’s way too soon to think he would become a dean, isn’t it?” you replied, smiling but not liking the direction of the conversation. Baekhyun becoming a dean would make him even busier.

“He has a lot of talents. Leadership is one of them and it’s the most important one. If he does well in Japan, which I’m sure he will, we will try to propose him the opportunity. He would have to do lots of research and teach more classes to get experience, but I have no doubts he is one of the coolest professors we have had in years. Plus, the students love him.”

“He is a likeable man,” you admitted reluctantly.

“You’re lucky,” she added with a strained smile just when you felt a pair of hands around your waist, the man in question finally appearing.

He kissed your neck, making your eyes go wide before he stood next to you and bowed to Jaina. “Miss.”

She nodded with acknowledgment. “You have a beautiful family, Baekhyun.”

“Oh yes, indeed,” he smiled cheekily, squeezing your waist.

Jaina observed the two of you a little longer. “I shall take my leave now. Congratulations, Baekhyun. See you next week.” She put on her specs and walked away, greeting people in her way.

“You met Jaina?” Baekhyun spoke up before you’d return to your family. They were too preoccupied with triplets who were now all awake.

You nodded, turning to him. His hand caressed your back. “She seems nice.”

“She is the boss,” Baekhyun chuckled, shrugging. He moved his head closer, whispering into your ear: “You looked so cute with Junhee in there, mummy.” His breath tickled you and you smiled gently. He looked at your face and stole a small kiss. “My beautiful wife.” His eyes traveled quickly over your dress, liking the way it looked on you.

“Congratulations to my smart hubby,” you played along and you circled your arms around his neck. “Your wifey is very proud of you.” You stood to kiss his cheek and Baekhyun let you. His eyes were sparkling at the sight of you. “Let’s go, triplets have something to say too.”

He laughed and took your hand, following you. He was welcomed by his parents and yours. The atmosphere was cheerful and you felt relieved that nothing bad went down during the ceremony.

Everyone was taking pictures together, first Baekhyun alone with flowers and the majestic main building in the background, then you joined him, just the couple alone. Baekhyun tickled your sides, making you squirm and burst out into laughter while he watched you with a wide smile. He knew your parents didn't know how to work smartphones well, and so the sound of the shutter kept going off and off and off, catching every second of the banter. Your babies, each held by a grandparent, were watching you with big eyes, almost judgmentally scrunching up their faces. They were jealous when you and Baekhyn had a good time without them. Eventually, Baekhyun hugged you to his chest, his hands resting against your stomach, creating a lovely picture of the two of you.

Of course it wouldn't be a family picture without your little munchkins. You took them in your arms before they could start a rally, Baekhuyn holding Juna and Junhee while you took your only son. As they were growing, it became harder to balance two babies in his arms, but Baekhyun would never give it up unless it was completely impossible to hold them.

You loved seeing your whole family together. But you loved it the most when Baekhyun was there, too.

Both of you giggled at the same time when your hand tried to tickle his stomach and his fingers teasingly caressed your hip. You squirmed, hiding your face in his neck as you felt his breathy laugh on yours.

“Shh, don’t want to wake our parents, hm?” he hummed with a huge, boyish smile on his face but his fingers were relentless.

“Baekhyun!” you hissed breathlessly and tried to shimmy away from him but he was stronger. As soon as you managed to move an inch, he brought you back to him, his palm smoothening the skin, gently inching higher on your side, successfully leaving goosebumps in its wake. You pressed your face into his neck to hide the redness.

“I stopped now,” he murmured, a handsome timbre. “Want to leave your hiding space now?”

After a little hesitation, you leaned away from his neck and met his soft eyes. “Don’t tickle anymore.”

“I won’t, promise,” he smiled when his eye caught your pout. “But you tickled too.”

“To defend myself!”

“Then you promise too,” pouted Baekhyun as he rested his head on the pillow, facing you.

You were quick to scurry to him and he chuckled. “Okay, I won’t tickle you either. Promise,” you murmured into his clothed chest.

A hum came in a reply and you felt his head move, looking down at the top of your head. “And now seal it with a kiss.”

You smiled to yourself, letting your hand rub his chest as you looked up and strained your neck to kiss his puckering lips. A loud smack resonated through the quiet bedroom and you felt your heart skip a beat, hoping Baekhyun’s parents who were sleeping in the living room didn’t hear it.

“Mmm, one more,” you demanded and this time Baekhyun captured your lower lip, engaging you in a proper, romantic kiss that had your toes tingle. His hand came to cup your cheek and the both of you shifted, the bed sheets rustling. He hovered over you while slowly playing with your soft pillows, making sure to use minimum tongue as none of you wanted a heated session now out of all times.

When he let go with a gentle smooch, he only moved away an inch, deciding to stay a little longer to smile at you. “You’re so pretty, my little lady.”

The unexpected words surprised you and a furious blush creeped in your cheeks, bringing sudden warmth into your body. “Ah, what are you saying.”

“The truth,” he replied calmly and pressed a final kiss to your forehead before he moved away and lied down next to you.

You sighed and once again scooted closer to him, wrapping your arm around his middle. Baekhyun caressed your hand and proceeded to wrap you up in his arms as well. “I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

“Oh baby, I’ll miss you too. And our munchkins,” he murmured and you pecked his cheek. “And these kisses.”

You smiled widely and kissed him again.

“But baby?” he asked, his voice raspy. You perked up, prompting him to go on. “Promise me you’ll keep close touch? And no surprises.”

Your eyebrows went shooting upwards at his weird demand. “We are always in close touch, honey. And whatever you mean with no surprises?”

He was observing you for a moment, thinking over how to speak his mind, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your nose and lips before looking back up to your expecting orbs. “I meant that… be careful. You’ll be home alone and I just don’t want uninvited guests.”

“You mean Junho?”

Baekhyun trailed his fingertips over your back. “Yeah,” he breathed, warily expecting your reaction. The last time you talked about Lee Junho you had a huge fight.

“I’m not in touch with him. Why would I be with him, Baekhyun?”

“He came uninvited last time,” he pointed out.

“That wasn’t my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t your fault, but I’m just saying that if it occurs again, I don’t want you to let him in is all.”

This time you observed your husband, his calm and collected expression an opposite to your gradually igniting insides. You felt like this was unfair towards you. Again.

“I'm not trying to cage you in-“

“Are all those beautiful female colleagues going with you to Japan as well? Will somehow Jiyoung appear too?” you asked in a colder tone and Baekhyun realized that you were building up your walls again.

“Yes, one of them is,” he told you honestly. His fingers have stopped caressing your skin, now frozen just between your shoulder blades.

“Okay, well then -“ you felt a painful lump in your throat forming at the fact that he didn’t even bother denying they weren’t beautiful- “make sure you don’t have uninvited guests in your hotel room,” you deadpanned. “You are a taken man after all.”

You scurried away, his hand falling on the space you created between the two of you. Baekhyun blinked in confusion and propped himself up on his elbow, looking at your back facing him. “Baby, what is wrong now? I only told you because I’m worried.”

“And am I not allowed to be worried? To let my handsome, charming husband who always needs attention, go on a one week long trip?”

His hand found its way to your hip when you felt his front pressed to your back. “Yet that husband wants only one woman’s attention.”

“It’s not gonna work,” you muttered stubbornly, trying to suppress the need to submit to his touches. “If you think the first thing I’d do is let another man - whom I don’t even know properly - enter our place without you knowing than I don’t know what we are doing,” you told him honestly, your gaze intently set in the curtains that allowed you to see the distant lights of other high rise buildings. Since you had the babies, you didn’t bother pulling the blackouts as you never got the proper rest anyway. Had you had blackouts you’d want to stay in bed all the time.

Baekhyun sighed but he still bunched up your shirt so he could accommodate his hand under it. “I just didn’t like how he came here suddenly and with a pathetic reasoning. If he does it again-“

“But he won’t-“

“If he does it again, I don’t want you to let him in if you’re by yourself with the little ones,” he finished more sternly, gradually disliking your attitude. You knew he was getting into the “I’m older” position.

You pursed your lips; you, on the other hand, didn’t like his attitude and his request.

“Hm?” Baekhyun gently squeezed your hip, urging you to acknowledge his words. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“Alright,” you mumbled reluctantly.

He was quiet for a moment, closely inspecting your side profile. “You know I don’t mean bad. We don’t know who he is and whether he is even trustable. What if he did something to you?” Baekhyun had his own point that he wasn’t willing to let up on. He was a man and he knew what a man who wants a woman looked like. You wouldn’t understand him, but he knew what he was doing and he didn’t feel comfortable with the thought of you being near him. Obviously Lee Junho didn’t give two damns that you were happily married; therefore very much taken.

“Don’t be mad,” he sighed after a while when you still wouldn’t look at him. He brought his face closer to yours. “I don’t like us going to sleep with unresolved feelings, baby.”

“Me neither,” you muttered, closing your eyes when you felt his nose on your cheek.

“Then talk to me,” he rasped into your ear as his hand wandered under your shirt, igniting your insides with passion. “Talk to oppa.”

You sighed and moved to lay on your back, Baekhyun’s hand slipping and brushing your mound. You felt the thrill curse through you at the sensation. “I won’t let him come in. I don’t think he would even visit anymore - but okay, I won’t do anything that you’d say no to,” you started and shivered when his thumb ran under your breast. He was watching you intently almost making you think he was looking for reactions from his sneaky actions. “But I will ask you to make a definite line between you and your colleagues. You have me and three kids. I don’t want you to flirt or even acknowledge their advances on you. You’re the professor who is hot and all the ladies want but is the most forbidden fruit in the department,” you said seriously. As you talked, Baekhyun’s smile grew.

“They know my situation, baby, there is no need for you to worry. Like, none at all. I always show them pictures of our munchkins and of you. You’re literally the background of my screen.”

You knew all of it of course. His lock screen was a selfie of the two of you smiling with your sleeping triplets after you signed the marriage papers, both of you dressed up. And his home screen picture was, to your dismay, you lying down with one leg prompted on the wall and the other spread to the other side with a very much pregnant bump revealed as the shirt was bunched up, ready for Baekhyun to apply some cream against the stretch marks. You were smiling at him with glistening red cheeks and you looked incredibly happy. That picture always surprised you; you had to admit that happiness really made everyone more beautiful and you weren’t an exception.

“I don’t care,” you whispered, closing your eyes when his palm dared to take a gentle hold of your mound, the way both of your bodies shifted closer once again making the bed sheets rustle in the quiet room exciting. “I don’t want any of that,” your mouth fell open with a shaky breath, Baekhyun’s face coming to your neck where he gave you a wet kiss.

“Okay, as you say, my princess,” he breathed, his hand now massaging your mound sensually.

Unconsciously you moved towards him, trying to make you more exposed to his wandering hand, your chest widening. He nibbled at the skin under your ear, his hand still working as if making a bread dough.

“I don’t want you to be upset with me when I mean well,” he whispered in your ear, shifting closer to you until you felt him pressing to the outside of your thigh. “I don’t want you to misunderstand my intentions, baby,” he breathed shakily when you squirmed against him. You turned your head, a low moan leaving your mouth when you seeked his lips.

“I know, sweetheart,” you replied when his soft lips hovered above yours. “I know you mean well.” He hummed in reply and kissed you passionately, bringing out another small moan out of you. He traced the outline of your lower lip with his tongue, while his hand kept abusing your mound and nipple. He separated for the slightest moments, moving his head to the other direction before diving in again, pushing his tongue in as if it always belonged there. His hand traveled lower over your rib cage until it lay on your hip. He pushed it between the mattress, taking a hold of your bum, giving it a squeeze. Your own hands were messing up his hair before you dragged them over his chest and tummy, teasing the naked skin between his pants and t-shirt. Baekhyun shivered when you proceeded to abuse the inside of his pants.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed shakily when he separated with a delicious smack. “Not now.”

You were a little dizzy from the hotness of the room, your husband looking so alluring you couldn’t help yourself when you whispered: “Can you keep quiet?”

“Sweet-“

“Can you?” you pressed challengingly when you felt his own hand seeking an entrance into your panties. To prove your point, you wanted to move your hand lower but didn’t have to; you squealed quietly when you felt his tip right up. Baekhyun had to be in the mood for a while.

Baekhyun giggled at the sight of you, his face hiding in your neck to keep silent. “You dare to be innocent after what you’ve been doing just now?” he murmured and clicked his tongue. “Or after making three babies?”

You pinked, biting your lip to suppress an embarrassed laugh. “Well, to me it seems like you are refusing to answer me,” you told him mischievously as you slowly, gently pressed your palm against his length and Baekhyun had to close his eyes, his heart skipping wildly at your touches. “I’d love to-“

“Then that’s enough,” you murmured as you tilted your chin upwards, pressing your lips together. Baekhyun hummed and you felt his palm against your womanhood.

Upon feeling you up, Baekhyun abruptly disconnected your lips. “Shit, you’re soaking wet, baby,” he breathed shakily and you squirmed under him, enjoying how he was warm and just so ready in your palm. There was a particular prominent vein that you made sure to outline with your finger and Baekhyun was fast to become defenseless.

“It hurts,” you told him with your lips turned downwards, pretending to be hurt. “You need to take care of it.”

“God, where is this all coming from?”

You didn’t know yourself. Maybe you grew to enjoy the thrill of having to be quiet but be up to no good with him in your bedroom. You grew to look forward to what he would do if you tested him a little bit. You found yourself liking it when he was a little rough, a little out of his usual role.

“How about we both help each other out?” he whispered when you didn’t answer, his face close. “Like that one time,” he went on and separated your wet lips, slipping in his middle finger. Your breath hitched in your throat. “When you came to Seoul with me for the first time,” he darted out his tongue, licking at the corner of your lips.

At the mention of that one time, you almost combusted. It was the first time you got intimate with Baekhyun. He managed to persuade your parents to let him come with you when he was attending his university. They trusted him with you, though he couldn't leave without a special talk with your father. Nonetheless, it was a very, very special trip for the both of you.

“Let’s pretend it’s our first time then,” you suggested in a quiet, though a little trembly voice. “Touch me like the first time.”

If you could see properly, you’d witness Baekhyun’s pupils dilating, a flush growing in his cheeks. When your hand landed on his neck, you felt his erratic pulse and you were over the moon that you had that effect on him.

“You’d like that?” he muttered hotly.“You’d like oppa to finger you like you’re a virgin again?”

“Ah, yes,” you heaved when he added his index finger, sinking it knuckle deep inside. You didn’t waste time in wrapping your fingers around him, your thumb landing on his tip where you felt the precum leaking. You made sure to smudge it around, pressing down the slightest to get that soft, high-pitched moan from Baekhyun. He sounded wonderful.

“You have to keep very, very quiet my little lady,” he murmured. “Since it’s your first time and you’re shy around oppa, I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” He was hinting at your past self. Baekhyun had to practically beg you to moan for him when he touched you the first time. Now he might have to beg for you to shut up.

You nodded and pumped him faster, Baekhyun’s fingers in you momentarily stopping for him to collect himself. He slowly lied down next to you, and you turned to face him. He removed his wet hand and wordlessly grabbed you under your knee before leading it on the top of his hip, spreading your legs. The two fingers were back right away and you let out a small erotic moan, making you squeeze his member a little. Baekhyun groaned quietly, his eyes closed and mouth open. The sight was out of this world and meant only for your eyes. The distant lights from outside illuminated his handsome face, his hair falling over his eyes. You’d brush it away had your hand not been jerking him off.

“Maybe oppa has to be a little more quiet, hm?”you teased breathlessly and let your blunt fingernails scratch ever so gently over the warm, tender skin before you cupped his balls and massaged them to his liking.

Baekhyun scrunched his nose, breathing frantically as he tried to focus on his fingers in you while enjoying your sinful ministrations. “Isn’t my little lady too good at this?”

You giggled quietly but stopped abruptly when he pinched your clit.

“Maybe you did it before?” he wondered aloud.

“Actually, there is this very hot hapkido master in the village,” you played along in a hushed tone and Baekhyun finally opened his eyes with a handsome smile. “He already touched me before you did.”

“So I’m not the first one?”

You dragged your hand higher, pumping him again. You buckled your hips when his thumb circled your clit while progressively adding a third finger, the stretch slightly stinking.

“Unfortunately,” you sighed with fake regret and Baekhyun groaned again, moving to crash your lips with his. He engaged the both of you in a very dirty, fiery kiss while his fingers became harsh and aggressive. You tried to follow your own hands movements but he was kissing the soul out of you. You were sure you’d bruise.

He rolled his hips into your palm and you sped up.

“Then I have to top him,” he said when he separated, breathing into your mouth. “I’ll prove you I’m much better.”

The both of you quickly let go of the old times, and with your experience now you were able to bring Baekhyun to the edge, his manhood twitching with the burning need to release. Before you could reach yours, however, he was fast to take away his hand and pull the covers off of your bodies. In came a strict order: “Suck it off.”

Just when he finished, warm liquid burst from him and you scurried to your knees, leaning over and successfully bringing him into your mouth with a hum.

You were bobbing your head to give him the necessary warmth your mouth could provide while the release was shooting to the back of your throat. You swallowed as fast as you could though your own missed release made you a little frustrated.

When you made sure Baekhyun was all clean, you wanted to look up but he pushed you onto your back, your mouth undoubtedly letting out a squeal that was too loud.

“Shh,” he pressed a finger that was previously in you onto your lips. “You’ve got to be quiet,” he whispered seriously. And just like that, without realizing what he was up to, Baekhyun sank into you, your mouth hanging open and your back arching at the feel.

He sighed and started to thrust harshly while pushing your shirt up to suck on the swell of your breasts, as if trying to suck the milk out through the skin.

“B-Baek-Baekhyunnn,” you wailed into his ear and brought your hand to your mouth, covering it to keep it down. You were swimming in ecstasy. Your shirt was plastered to your back and your panties were basically ruined with the way they were soaked over. It was so intimate; the way you were both dressed in your sleepwear yet doing such dirty things while your parents were just outside your bedroom.

He snapped his hips and the good old build-up reappeared, making your eyes roll back. Just a few more aggressive strokes and you were coming along with Baekhyun, his hot seed filling you up. Both of you were heaving like you just ran a marathon and Baekhyun made sure to give you a sweet kiss and a little circle of his hips before he fell next to you, spent.

He turned his head, his chest rising and falling rapidly with a lazy smile. “I had to reward my princess for being such a good girl, treating oppa well.”

You smiled tiredly. “You're the best. And there’s no milk leaking,” you pointed out graciously when you didn’t feel any pressure in your breasts. “I guess the tactic is working.”

“Ah, wonderful. Now you won’t be a walking milk fountain.”

Baekhyun was supposed to leave in a day and he was now out running some last minute errands, leaving you and your mother, who decided to stay at your place longer, alone. You were having breakfast, feeling starved after emptying your breasts. The past days, it seemed like Baekhyun and you were impossible not to touch one another, that wouldn’t eventually lead to something more. Especially now that he would be gone for a week, you found yourself sweaty in his arms more often. Last night wasn’t an exception, though you always had to be careful with being noisy since your mother was in the apartment.

You hummed in delight at her pickled cucumbers that Baekhyun never liked, the crunchy sound loud in the quiet kitchen.

Your mother was observing you and you felt it. You raised your eyebrows at her in question as you plopped another cucumber into your mouth while your other hand reached for the cup with fresh green tea your mother brought from the village.

Maybe she was shocked at how particularly messy you looked today. You didn’t bother tidying your hair and your shirt was wrinkled as it was carelessly tossed away the previous night by Baekhyun’s eager hands. Your bare legs were on full display as you felt unusually warm, your panties a good enough cover.

“Daughter,” your mother decided to break the silence, “are you and Baekhyun perhaps… trying again?”

The cup you were drinking green tea with froze mid way to your mouth. “Huh?”

Her eyes were lower on your neck and you realized with horrification that in the busy tasks of the morning you forgot to cover up your neck that had a few love bites. You weren’t used to having other people around in your house so it didn’t even occur to you to try looking decent.

You pinked deeply as you shuffled on the stool. “N-no, goodness, why would you ask, mum…”

She sighed. “I might have overheard you a few times already-“

“Jesus!” you gasped, not letting her finish, and you wanted to disappear from the surface of the Earth.

“It’s fine, no need to freak out, dear,” she ensured you calmly. “I know how you two get along so well and share a strong chemistry. And you’re both in your prime years anyway. I was just worried because you still have triplets that are infants. It’s hard to be a mother to them while you have another one in your tummy, but I know you know that, daughter.”

Even though the idea made your heart skip a beat, you shook your head resolutely. You were out of that safe three month secure zone now. You could fall pregnant even if you breastfed though the chances weren’t high. And if you admitted it, you and Baekhyun were being anything but careful while getting lost in pleasure. “I know, don’t worry. We can’t afford another baby anyway. It’s already challenging financially as it is.” And you didn't even want to get into the details about having to raise kids. It made you freak out - the thought of having to lead your three munchkins in life, prepare them for the bad times while hopefully shaping them into honest and caring people.

Your mum sighed but you saw her face expression soften. “Make sure you are safe then,” she promoted.

You really wanted the earth to swallow you up. “Mum, please… how do you even know we aren't?”

“You’re not taking the pills and obviously… there is nothing in the trash.”

You gasped again and you stood up, ready to run away. “Okay, that’s it. You checked?! Isn’t it weird for you to give me safety tips after birthing triplets? Besides, we have our own trash bin in the bathroom.”

She chuckled deeply, shaking her head. “I think motherhood really changed you. In a good way. Enjoy your life, as you should. Just safely.”

You deflated and sank down on the chair again. “I am. Though not the way I thought I’d be enjoying my life at this age.”

Your mum clicked her tongue. “You should come to the countryside while Baekhyun’s not here. You could catch up with people your age and you’d have a lot of peace. And you know both me and dad want to be with the little ones, Baekhyun’s parents as well.”

As much as it seemed great, you found it incredibly inconvenient to move around with triplets. You didn’t have a car, so you were pushed to use the public transport to reach your far away village.

“I’d love to…”

“Then come.” You looked down at your unfinished tea. “Come home to us for a bit.”

Pretending to be preoccupied with scrutinizing the tea cup, you only hummed. “I'll think about it.”

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

A/N: It took me over two hours to edit this monster of a chapter. Please comment and reblog to let me know what you thought! :)

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