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sugary-sheep · 3 years

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An Analysis of How Deltarune Chapter 2′s Soundtrack Made Me Feel, Copied From My Discord Thread

Girl Next Door - a very good track for the beginning of the game. It serves to strongly establish noelle as a familiar, friendly character, since you might not have bothered learning too much about her in chapter which makes sense considering the later revealed fact that kris and noelle are chidlhood friendsIt doesn't have any strong hints of bittersweet, it's just a plain happy melody. You're just starting the game after all.

My Castle Town - this is where the first twinges of bittersweet/nostalgia come in.It's meant to bring back memories of your adventure three years ago, chapter 1. You're back "home," at least from the player's point of view, and the player is the one that all the music panders to. (which wouldn't be a thing to note if the game wasn't so meta). It isn't very strongly bittersweet though. It's a calming melody, meant to ease you into the world, and doesn't draw too much attention to itself. If Girl Next Door is a warm breeze, then My Castle Town is the pleasant chill of fall.

Queen - this song is a wacky and fun melody, borrowing both carnival rhythm and instrumentation. It has twinges of deeper emotion and all that but it's mainly just a funny clown theme for everyone's favorite clown: Queen.

A CYBER’S WORLD? - it starts off with the main melody outlined on a chiptune low-res synth, which drops into a rich collage of higher-res synths. It evokes emotions of adventure and energy and anticipation, while also being neutral enough to act as a backdrop for all the silly things you do in the cyber fields. it's a really damn good song. it doesn't tug on the heartstrings necessarily but it just. it's so nice to listen to.

A Simple Diversion - it’s. a simple diversion. chip tune rendition of the queen motif. it's good. nothing much to analyze.

Almost To The Guys , Cyber Battle , When I Get Happy I Dance Like This - (combined since basically the same instrumentation and the same motifs) god I fucking love these songs so much. they are so happy and sensitive and soft and warm. They are like the auditory version of a hug. idk what drugs toby fox put into these songs but it fucking. they fit these funny guys so perfectly. it's just a silly fun theme about these fun little dudes. it's energetic and happy and makes you wanna dance. It doesn't take itself too seriously and it's just. It solidifies that this is a Silly game with Silly things that happen and fun people that you can be friends with.

Cool Beat - too short to analyze.

When I Get Mad I Dance Like This - same as Cool Beat

Berdly’s Theme - bringing back the CLOWNS, this time without a harpsicord though. it's a synthesizer melody and emphasizes the silly gamer antagonism that berdly provides, while not painting him as a bad person. just an antagonist.

Smart Race - this is a particularly tense battle theme, playing off of the semi-betrayal and kind if indignation you feel towards berdly since like. He's a lightner like you! and he's working for queen! what the FRICK.

Faint Courage - an uplifting melody that (tries) to soothe the pain of getting a game over. The crunched nature of the synths is notable though, compared to other soothing songs on the soundtrack.

Welcome To The City - This is the first song that really starts to dip into the nostalgia. It's still an upbeat and adventurous melody, but like. Your friends just left you, and you're exploring the city alone. It has a lot of flourishes and flair that reminds you that you're in a cool exciting city, and slowly becomes more uplifting as it goes on, but still keeps the distinctly minor sound. (if it's in a major key shut up I don't care). It's also the theme for the time you spend with noelle, and like. in that context, it feels more like a friendly nostalgic melody than a bittersweet feeling. the familiarity of Girl Next Door is back, and honestly it borrows a lot of emotional cues from Girl Next Door. They are double edged and the feelings they evoke are very context sensitive. it can be a friendly warmth, or a wishing for better, older days.

Mini Studio - a return of the resistance motif. noticably lower res synthesizers but like. your funny little dudes are here :]

cool mixtape - Clown to the MAXIMUM. not in that it's the most carnival inspired but like. it's really bombastic and fun while also being built around queen's clowny and wacky motifs. The instrumentation also adds to the non-serious quality, making it sound like. well, a shittily recorded mixtape. Lol. It’s great.

Hey Every ! - This song evokes all the emotions of as corrupted seen on tv advertisements with a dash of clown. Very distinctly wacky upbeat song.

Spamton - This is where the creepy factor of spamton starts to kick in. It brings on the menacing atmosphere of being in this alleyway with an unstable puppet salesman who jumped out of the dumpster, however the silly vocals do take a LOT of the edge off the creepiness. Which is fitting for spamton. because he would more intimidating if his dialogue wasn't so ridiculous and silly, and if he wasn’t such a silly little guy.

Now's Your Chance to Be A - a very groovy and slightly menacing battle theme that makes you wanna get out of this situation, but it's not like. scary. it's just a little bit creepy. Like a haunted house. it's a really fun song though. the edge mostly serves to accentuate the wacky and fun qualities of the song, like salt enhancing the sweetness of a dessert.

Elegant Entrance - This has the same menacing/eerie quality as spamton’s battle theme, but much more genuine. it takes the formerly clowny harpsicord used with Queen’s themes, and makes it sound much more regal. It's not bittersweet though. just intimidating.

Bluebird of Misfortune - a VERY strongly minor sounding song, and while it's not a super deeply resonant sadness, it does minimize the wacky/funny factor.

Pandora Palace - the first majorly bombastic song. It's the buildup to the climax, and has a very unique blend of regal, groovy, and energetic sounds with a small sprinkle of bittersweet, mostly to build tension.

KEYGEN - really cool and gives an appropriate feeling for unlocking the door into the SECRET BOSS.

Acid Tunnel of Love - very relaxing, very happy melody. it almost dips into bittersweet at times, but is a solidly uplifting and soothing melody. It's a rest for the soul.

It's Pronounced "Rules" - Rgal in a way very different from Elegant Entrance and Pandora Palace. It's a kind of pretentious regalness, and is a big return to clowniness. Because Roulxs is a pretentious clown man.

Lost Girl - It’s. very bittersweet and nostalgic. It has solid uplifting moments to balance it out, but it's. not a super happy song. it's not a super sad one either. it's just. contemplative. emotional. it'd be a good song to cry to.

Ferris Wheel - A combination of Lost Girl and Girl Next Door, both in mood and actual motifs. It's got a lot more warmth than lost girl, and the chiptune main melody gives it the silliness it needs to take the edge off it’s bitersweetness. The upbeat and kinda whimsical harmonization helps with this too. It's a theme for two girls having an awkward but really nice and fun gay moment.

Attack of the Killer Queen - oh man.oh MAN.Such a good song. It's absolutely bombastic, fulfilling all the promises of epic finality and regal power that have been set up throughout the mansion section. It makes queen feel like a POWERFUL and intimidating villain for honestly like. the first time in the game. It also has the emotional quality, the feeling of un-rightness, once again driven by berdly being an antagonist, but the context is stronger, since you had just had the emotional connection with him and bringing him to your side.

Giga Size - this song does not let down any of the pressure from killer queen. it has all the menacing strength that you would expect from it, and takes the regal intimidation up to another level. it's supposed to make you feel like you've lost, and as far as the player knows, they have. Also it's a lot longer than you would expect??? the soundtrack is honestly filled with really short songs. but Giga Size is one of the longer ones, despite the short amount of time it actually plays. I don't remember ever being in that portion of the cutscene long enough to hear the full thing. it's worth a listen to if you haven't already.

Powers Combined - the uplifting counterbalance to Giga Size. It gets you pumped, and it has an air of finality stronger than attack of the killer queen. This is the final push. you're on the precipice of victory.

Knock You Down - This theme continues everything from Powers combined. It's less bombastic than Attack of the Killer queen, though bviously it's still very energetic and cool. It's serious in a more uplifting sense, but also quite tense. there is a lot on the line. This is the do or die moment. It both hypes you up and calms you down, and evokes a very particular emotion, especially given the context. Really good for getting in the zone.

The Dark Truth - another song that, while more emotional, doesn't hit super deep. Imo it feels like it’s going for an "exaggerated" sense of danger and sadness. Which makes sense if it's meant to instill some doubt in ralsei's credibility. it's still a very serious song, but it feels like it's trying a little too hard. (not necessarily in a bad way)

Digital Roots - a very menacing song, and probably the most truly menacing song in the soundtrack. Sets the atmosphere for the basement perfectly.

Deal Gone Wrong - This is the climax of Digital Roots and the whole process of getting the secret boss. You're in real danger now. The puppet man wants to make a deal, and he wants your soul.

BIG SHOT - woooh boy. This song carries a lot of this menace, but brings in a ton of bombastic energy and a little bit of clown as well. it's like Now's Your Chance To Be A, but more intense. The vocal editing really adds so much to this track. The motifs are very well used, and it's just an incredibly fun and dramatic song. it's groovy! it's wacky! it's intimidating! It gets you pumped! it's a very good song

A Real Boy - This one is a really nice song. it's got a very nice uplifting quality and there's a very subtle and like. almost angelic sharp pad in the background of it that you wouldn't immediately notice adds a lot to the texture of it, combined with the crunched and low res main synth. the background of that scene fits it perfectly. Childishly painted sun and sky and all that. He’s a real boy now. You freed him :). He can escape his strings now :)

dialtone - It’s like if you took one of the more emotional songs in the soundtrack and made it a little silly. Which makes sense. You're supposed to feel kinda bad for him, but he's still a weird wacky guy who just tried to kill you.

sans. - what do I need to say. it's sans's theme. it's wacky in an extremely chill way. it contrasts with basically all of deltarune's wacky characters, and that's perfectly cool. sans is a chill guy, especially in this game.

Chill Jailbreak Alarm To Study And Relax To - this one is just toby having fun. It's napstablook's theme with an alarm in the background. it's funny, it serves it's purpose as a gag. it's great.

You Can Always Come Home - this one has the nostalgic quality that I've been talking about very strongly, but the melody is just. It's so soothing and uplifting that you can't help but feel warm inside. it might be cold and snowing outside, but for now, you're home. you're with your family, you're sipping hot cocoa. Everything is right with the world, if only for a moment. You can always come home.

Until Next Time - another soothing melody, being a corrupted version of Don't Forget, and it evokes a lot of the same emotions, if a bit less strongly. It plays into the mystery of the ending, and would probably suit the snowgrave route pretty well. It's a good ending song in general though. It doesn't drown you in emotion. It lets you feel how you felt about what you just experienced.

Before the Story - really strong song. It's hard to fully analyze it given like. there isn't a lot of gameplay context. but it is a very dark and rich song. it's really good.

Berdly (Rejected Concept) - This song sucks ASS. it's like. pretentious. but also so cringe fail at the same.

#deltarune #deltarune chapter 2

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ppersonna · 4 years

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pick your filter - pjm | m

mix the colors in the palette, pick your filter. which me do you want? the one to change your world, i'm your filter - filter, bts

↳ summary- You love turning Jimin on, and you’re desperate to make him punish you for it. Jimin loves punishing you while you listen to his music.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 5.1k

↳ pairing- jimin x reader

↳ genre- smut, this is literally just smut, there’s 1% plot and it’s pornographic too, there’s some fluff at the end but i repeat it is still smut. there is no god in this chili’s tonight

↳ warnings- buckle up pals. established relationship, explicit descriptions of sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), BDSM themes, spanking, belt usage, dirty talk, derogatory names, pain kink, daddy kink, face-fucking lol, unprotected sex, slight impregnation kink but like not really they just wanna have a baby together and talk about it lol, jimin is filthy and i cannot portray him as anything but filthy but then he has like cute babie syndrome at the end.

↳ a/n- hi i feel maybe 1% shame in how fast i wrote this but whatever. thank you to @carly-bean-blog for sending the prompt in! i loved it and went from a planned drabble to 5k words lolol. one day i’ll be less verbose 🥴🥴 plus enjoy and feel free to send in more requests or just a message to say hi bc as you can see i love talking. also RIP to the wine glass i broke while writing this fic because i hit my table to hard. wine glass 2020-2020

Turning Park Jimin on was a delicious challenge for you.

When you first began dating, all it took was a ‘come over’ text, and he’d be there in 5 minutes flat regardless of the fact that he lived 15 minutes away.

Now, a few years and a marriage under your belt, it took a bit more.

That’s not to say he wasn’t the same insatiable man you met at university; even after all these years Jimin could easily go 3 or more rounds a night.

But really getting him riled up, getting him hard and wanting and desperate for you was another thing. Sometimes, you just wanted him to come home and take you right against the kitchen counter, so turned on he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.

You’re determined to win that challenge today.

To be truthful, the day was terrible for you, and you were seeking release in the form of your husband dicking you down until you were speaking another language. You were desperate to let loose, push aside the emotional and tender sex that seemed to be more commonplace in the bedroom recently (and you enjoyed equally) but today you needed to be treated like an absolute harlot.

The idea rolled through your mind while you were busying yourself with housework, laundry and dishes. Options of how to get your husband to take you on the floor, rip your clothes off, make you beg for more, simmered in your mind and made the low flame in your stomach burn. Lingerie could do the trick, Jimin definitely liked to see you swathed in delicate lace or creamy satin. You had a nice deep red set that was dying to be used and discarded on the floor.

It came to you as you set your speaker to play some music as you flicked around the house. Jimin’s sweet voice filled the rooms, causing you to pause as shivers raked your spine.

His music. There was always something Jimin loved about having his music on in the background of your sex that made him work harder on you, fuck you deeper. Maybe it was narcissism at its finest, but who were you to complain if it benefitted both of you.

You discarded all thoughts of cleaning the rest of the house as you stalked towards your bedroom closet, gathering the red bustier and panty set, with matching garter belt and stocking clips. You purchased it rather spur of the moment, a huge sale at your favorite boutique, and you wanted to save it for something special.

It appeared the special moment was now.

You took care to curl your hair, a gentle wave with not too much product. Jimin loved to tug his fingers through your locks, and grip them in a ponytail as you sucked his cock. Any product would unfortunately get in the way. Makeup was minimal, a dash highlight on your cheeks and inner tear ducts, light pink lip stain on your lips. Jimin had been the test subject of many a lipstick, as you determined to find the most blowjob-proof one. Needless to say, none of the lipsticks were 100% solid, but it was the best time Jimin ever had as a test subject. You preferred to stick with the stains, easier cleanup for the both of you.

You complete the visual as you swap your grubby cleaning day clothes for blood red lace lingerie, smirking at yourself in the mirror. The cups of the bra molded against you, encasing your tits perfectly. Jimin would surely lose his mind. The panties were simple lace, and you had the inkling that they would not remain intact tonight. Jimin’s propensity for literally ripping your knickers right off you was legendary. But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted your husband to be absolutely feral for you.

Step two of your plan was now underway as you slipped onto your bed, perfectly made now, and snapped sultry photos. You ensured your cleavage and smooth legs were in the shot, a finger on the mouth. You took a few more, exposing more and more of your body.

me 2:56 pm- hi babe what you up to?

mini 2:56 pm- baby!!!! Not much, just waiting for hobi to get back from lunch so we can practice this new choreo.

Mini 2:57 pm- what about you? besides being the world’s cutest wife :)

Me: 2:57 pm- oh not too much. I did our laundry and cleaned up the house a little. Now im just relaxing and missing my babe :(

Mini 2:57 pm- baby :( i’m sorry. I should be home in a few hours okay! I’ll order in pasta from your favorite place to make up for it

Me 2:58 pm- well, i was sort of hoping you could make up for it but… i don’t want pasta

Mini 2:58 pm- you don’t? What do you want? Pizza?

Me 2:58 pm- [picture attached]

Me 2:58 pm- no, I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.

Mini 2:59 pm- oh fuck

Mini 2:59 pm- baby you’re playing a dangerous game, teasing me like this.

You nearly had him, he was sniffing at the bait and soon he’d bite and you’d reel him in. You sent the next picture, showcasing your tits with one cup pulled down, nipple on display.

me 3:00 pm- you mean this kind of game?

mini 3:00 pm- christ

mini 3:00 pm- fuck babe, you’re gonna make me pop a boner at dance practice. You know I can’t come home for a few hours.

me 3:00 pm- hobi still gone? Go to the bathroom and i’ll send you a video.

mini 3:01 pm- holy fuck asdskadj okay

Time for the pièce de résistance. Ensuring the speakers blasted ‘Serendipity’, your husband’s full length solo, you clicked the record button and filmed your hand sliding down to your clothed core, rubbing over the mound with a rough hand. You breathed heavily, sighed, mewled a bit.

“Daddy,” you gasp. “Come home.”

You end it with a hand sneaking under the band and insertion of one finger. Leave him not just wanting more, but rabid for it. The video file is sent before you've even pulled your fingers from their spot resting on your clit.

Minutes passed, you were sure he was watching. The man lived for your exhibitionism.

mini 3:06 pm- you better have your hands behind your back and be on your knees when i get home, little one. In the middle of the bedroom floor.

mini 3:06 pm- i want you to listen to the music and think about me fucking you. Think about how i destroy your little cunt so good.

mini 3:07 pm- but don’t you dare touch yourself. Your pussy is only mine to play with, you got that?

me 3:07 pm- yes daddy

mini 3:07 pm- good. I’ll be home soon.

Congratulations, you smirk to yourself in the mirror's reflection across from you. You’ve won the grand prize. Please make sure you collect your prize from the man with the raging boner.

You idly realize that Jimin hasn’t told you when he’ll be home. You know that on any normal day he’d be home at 5:30. But was he leaving early? Could you chance it? As much as you wanted to disobey and face his delicious punishment, he also could just as easily punish you by not letting you cum at all. And the chances of that type of discipline tonight was high; Jimin would surely make you pay for teasing him at work by exacting torturous ache the same to you.

You’re spinning the pros and cons of preparing yourself now or later, when you are given your hasty answer by the sound of keys jingling in the front door. Your heart rate spikes dangerously, feeling like the muscle would force the blood out of your veins with the pressure.

You squirm off the bed and descend to the floor on your knees, resting back on your heels, and holding your hands behind your back. You lower your head to the floor, knowing Jimin loves it when you avoid eye contact until he tells you when and where to look.

His footsteps are heavy, slow and torturous because you know that he knows that you’ll be on the very edge of your sanity. The warmth in your belly is torched with tinder and starter and is flaring high. Jimin’s simple presence, just like this, is enough to get you to an incredible high. Nothing brings you to your knees faster than when he turns from your sweet, adorable and gentle husband into the sadistic and powerful dominating owner of your body and soul.

It takes 5 deep breaths from your belly before you hear Jimin enter the bedroom. He’s not saying a single word, but you can hear his soft footsteps on the hardwood floor. Your knees are aching at the pressure of the hard floor, but you ignore it. You’d ignore cauterizing wounds for the man hovering above you if he asked.

You’re trembling, you notice. Your thighs are quivering ever so slightly and the grasp on your hands behind you is weakening. You grip harder, determined to maintain perfect correct form.

Jimin is frustratingly silent. He walks around you, and you feel his eyes rove your body intently, as if looking for fault or reason to punish you. He seems pleased when he finishes his rounds, standing right in front of you.

“Look at me,” he states with authority, but his tone is gentle.

You finally tilt your head up to gaze at your lover and nearly gasp at the sight. Jimin is, on an average day, the most ethereally beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Today, he looks as if he descended from heaven mere minutes previous. His pink hair is pushed back, eyes darkened with desire, and wearing the tightest shirt you’ve ever seen, making his toned dancer’s body ripple under the cotton. Tight sweats that leave nothing to the imagination about what he’s packing between his thighs sit low on his hips and you spot just a hint of his lower abdomen, the v line of his adonis belt, and you’re sure you’re drooling.

“Look at me,” he corrects, a smirk on his face. Your eyes snap to his own again, and he winks at you.

“Have you been a good girl for daddy?” He asks, and it feels like a loaded question.

You play it coy. “Yes, daddy.”

He stands still in front of you, hand stroking his face as he watches you. His eyebrow arches.

“Are you sure? You have done nothing to upset Daddy? Nothing at all?” His voice becomes teasing, and the smirk on his features is sinister.

You bite your lip. “I sent Daddy a video of me, touching myself to his music.”

“That’s right, angel,” he murmurs and circles you again. You feel like his prey before he comes in for the kill. “You made daddy leave practice early. Don’t you think that’s not being a good girl?”

“No, I did wrong.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he murmurs. “I’m gonna make you regret getting Daddy hard and horny at work.”

He places his hands on your shoulders and you shiver. His hands are smooth, warm. You love the way you feel the cold steel of his wedding ring pressed to your skin, a tangible expression of his love and loyalty.

“Stand up,” he directs. You’re quick, thankful to be off stinging knees. He lets his hands glide down your back to meet at your clasped hands, pulling them apart and turning you to face him.

He threads his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, sealing your lips to his. His lips are soft and taste of chapstick, a hint of sweat, and something just so simply Jimin that is addictive. He’s gentle and tender in the kiss, the kind of kiss a husband gives his wife. It speaks miles beyond the simple action, and you chase it, revel in it, knowing it’s the last time he’ll be gentle tonight.

He breaks from the kiss, touches your nose gently and winks. It makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The control seeps back into his face; it's physically present in the tight gaze of his eyes and the coolness of his impassive features. It’s a stark opposite of who just kissed you, and you’re breathless at the sudden change.

“Gonna spank you with my belt, baby,” he murmurs. A hand slaps hard against your ass, surprising you and making you squeak out loud. “Lean over my desk like a good little slut.”

You obey immediately, jerking your body towards his grand oak desk. It’s gorgeous dark wood that matches the decor of your room perfectly and makes for a delicious spot for your sexual proclivities without being obvious. As much as Jimin wanted a sex swing, you would not cave to that.

You bend to fold your body over the desk, gripping the edge and pushing your hips back to allow for more access to your husband. The speaker system by your bed plays music, and you recognize the opening chords as one from his latest album with his six best friends. A smile slips to your face as the volume turns up, quiet enough you can talk, but loud enough it’s noticeable. His smooth, melodic voice is ringing through your bedroom and through your entire body.

He stalks in behind you and rubs at your soft globes.

“Mmm, you look so pretty in this,” he compliments. “You know I love seeing you in red.”

You turn your head to gaze at him, smiling. “That’s why I bought it, Daddy.”

“Good little bitch,” he sighs.

As expected, he rips the underwear from your body with one clean pull. You’re always surprised by the action. He never gives warning. Your eyes follow as the useless fabric soars towards the ground.

“Much better.”

He moves away from you, walking towards the closet. You train your eyes forward, keeping locked on the wall ahead of you, rather than staring. Jimin tells you when and where to look and you follow that.

The gentle clinking noise of a belt buckle causes your pussy to quake. You’ve been slowly moistening since you sent the first text, but you were now starting to drip as if you were overflowing. By the end of the night, you’ll be drowning in it.

He’s behind you again as quick as he left and he rubs the leather belt against your bare behind.

“What’s your word?” He asks, soothing at the skin with the device that will soon maar it. Jimin is ever careful, checking on your mental and emotional safety as well as your physical, and ensured a safe word was in place each time.

“Red,” you assert. He hums his approval and kisses your ass once, one quick little peck, before he lifts back up to standing.

“Count for me, little whore.”

The crack of the belt spanking your cheek electrifies you. You feel as if every muscle in your body clenches as the sting vibrates through your buttocks and down to your core.

“O-one!” You’re shouting, distracted by the pain in your ass to care about your pitch.

Crack. The next slap lands on the other cheek now, and you hiss at the pain. It bites at your skin, and it soaks your pussy.

“Two!”

He delivers the next straight in the center, hitting both cheeks and letting the sizzle melt its way to a pleasure that’s reverberating through your core.

“Three! Fuck!” you gasp.

SMACK. It’s the hardest yet and tears well up in your eyes at the initial whollop, before your hips are writhing and desperate for friction.

“Four!” You’re wailing and you know it makes your husband go even wilder.

“Stay still or I won’t let you cum for a month,” he grits. Your hips stay put, knowing he’s a man of his word and not wanting to face his wrath.

He continues his barrage, and you’re counting out 15 strikes before he stops. You’re sobbing, the pain and pleasure surging so forcefully through your veins that your cunt clenches around nothing and you’re dripping onto the wood of the desk.

His warm hands are soothing at the reddened flesh of your ass, the sensation stinging at first, but oozes away to a relaxing warmth against the punished skin.

“Good girl, baby,” he commends you, hands rubbing all over your flesh. “Took your punishment like such a good girl.”

You sniffle in reply and he pulls you up, making you stand on wobbly legs. He twists you around and pecks your lips again, a reminder that Jimin, your husband, is still there and loves you more than he loves life itself. It soothes you more than any salve could and it steels your resolve to continue. It’s easy to submit and thrill at the loss of control when you trusted the master with your entire being.

“Color?” He asks, checking in with you.

“Green,” you smile.

He’s pleased with your answer. He pulls away from you and pushes you towards the bed.

“Lay down on your back. Head off the side. I’m going to fuck your throat, and you will take it all.”

You’re giddy as you saunter to the bed and notice that Jimin is proud of the blooming red of your ass. It’ll be a literal pain in the ass to sit tomorrow, but it’s worth all the doting and affection you’ll receive in return for being such a good girl for him. The music has changed, another sensual track featuring your talented husband. It sends shivers down you, straight to your core.

You maneuver your body to lie on the bed, grateful for the soft blanket on your burning ass, and tip your head off the bed. Your mouth opens complacently and Jimin shoves his sweats down to reveal his hardened length.

You’re licking your lips like his dick is the finest meal money can buy, and he chuckles. His left hand strokes it, shivering at the cold press of his wedding ring mixing with the heat of his hand.

“You want my cock?” He asks.

You nod, captivated with the motion he strokes the shaft. You almost forget to speak, but his harsh gaze is like a whip.

“Yes! Yes, I want your cock Daddy!”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” he hums.

Well, this would be too easy.

“I want to suck you dry, let you fuck my throat so I can’t breathe. I’ll let you cum down my throat and make my face so messy from cum and spit that it gets in my eyes and messes up my pretty makeup, daddy.”

His strokes have become faster, and he sucks in hard for air. “Such a filthy fucking mouth.”

You open said mouth again, letting your tongue hang out like a welcome sign to your throat.

He growls, it’s guttural, and it feels as if it’s positioned on your clit, vibrating the nub. Your bliss is cut short as he drives his thick dick into your mouth and directly to the back of your throat, leaving you no time to prepare. You whine slightly around it, and he tsks.

“Don’t you fucking dare whine. Take it all,” he sounds ruthless and your pussy quakes.

He sets a punishing pace, the tip of his dick ramming through your throat. It doesn’t take long for it to become messy, saliva trickling from your mouth, falling towards your eyes due to the angle of your supine head. Jimin sounds angelic, the moans that leave the dancer’s body should be recorded and played for an audience, you think. You’d suffer through hours of this for the reward of his sweet voice crying out your name.

“Fuck, my little cock slut loves it when I fuck her throat, hmm,” he asks, breathy and harsh. You nod as much as you can.

“Yeah, that’s right. You love daddy’s cock, don’t you? You love it when I fucking choke the shit out of you with my fat cock, huh?”

The voice of an angel with the words of the devil himself. The duality is intoxicating and you are head over heels for both Jimin’s inside of him, every aspect of the man you pledged your life to.

“Mmm, you suck me so good,” he’s groping at your tits through the fabric of your bra. You’re surprised that it’s still on, but you trust he’s aware and always has a plan.

“Are you crying, baby?” He asks mockingly. Tears and saliva mix and your face is completely ruined by it. You nod again and blink. “Good, fucking choke on it.” he goes even faster and you’re moaning. It hurts and the gag reflex is there, but the pain gets you off, and you know the second it became too much, your husband would stop in an instant.

“Little sluts get their face fucked when they disobey daddy,” he chides, emphasising each word with a thrust.

It’s as if you’re desperate for his orgasm, wanting nothing more than to swallow every ounce of what he spills into you, clean him up and ask for more. He won’t have that tonight, it seems, as he’s pulling out of you as quickly as he entered.

“I want to cum in this tight little cunt,” he bites. You slither up from your position and wipe at your eyes, resting against the pillow after he orders you to remove the bustier. He asks that you leave the belt and stockings on, however.

“Spread those pretty thighs for me, baby,” he’s discarded his shirt and is sitting ahead of you, watching you. His gaze turns you on and opens you up like a flower.

Your thighs are spread far and you lean back further onto the pillows to put the star of the show on display. You’re coated with your slick; it’s slathered up and down your thighs and dripping onto the duvet below you. He breathes out in appreciation.

“I think my favorite thing about you is how fucking wet you get for me.” He’s still not moving and you want to beg him to touch you, please do something, but refrain. “You feel like a fucking dream when I’m inside you.”

“B-baby,” you break character and freeze, but he ignores it and allows you to continue as you sigh with relief. “I need you.”

“Do you now?” he banters, and you nod with wide, needy eyes.

“Touch yourself for me, then. Show me how badly you want daddy’s cock in you.”

A hand flies to your cunt in record time and you’re desperately eager to spread the lips of your folds apart and rub at your slick and swollen clit. A breathy, heady moan escapes you at the friction you’ve been aching for since you sent the sexy photo hours ago.

“Fuck!” you shout, circling the bud. Jimin’s eyes are glued to your hands, and he watches with awe.

“Finger yourself,” he demands and you’re obeying before he’s even finished speaking, two fingers slipping down to enter your channel. You arch off the bed and grip a breast in your other hand, flicking at the nipple for extra sensation.

He coos at you as you fuck yourself with wild abandon, gasping his name as you slip deeper with each thrust.

“Add another.” His voice maintains its even quality, maintained and cool. But if you opened your eyes, you’d see that he’s salivating at the sight, desperately restraining himself. His cock is weeping pre-cum and he could explode in an instant watching this too long.

Your ring finger slips in with the other two and you’re keening at the stretch. The pain is gone in a flash, just a pinch that simmers to a desperate pleasure.

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he breaks his composure, momentarily. He’s so in love with you, every single fucking bit, that he can’t help it. “God, you’re beautiful.”

His words have you blushing, as if they’re the most lewd part of the evening and not the fact you’re fingering yourself in front of your husband while he watches and orders you around.

“Rub your clit with your other hand, love.”

The pressure of your added hand on your clit and the fingers thrusting into you has you soaring to your high and your throat chokes on the air. “O-oohhh fuckkk!” You whine.

“You close, baby? You gonna cum on those cute little fingers and get them messy for daddy?” He asks, voice violently serene.

“Y-yes! Please, I want to cum,” you beg. You know the rules, he tells you where and when your body receives its pleasure.

“You wanna cum?” He asks again, and you feel a spike of irritation. He’s already asked you that, haven’t you already answered?

“So badly, daddy! Please! C-close.” Words are escaping your mental capacity now. You’re there, nearly there, just one little tiny string holding you back from the edge of euphoria.

“Too bad.”

Your fingers are pulled from your cunt quickly and you’re crying. Tears are forming in your eyes as you feel an ache deep to your womb. You had been so close, so deliciously close. Jimin knows this, thrills at watching you edge further and further through the night. You won’t admit it at the moment, it’s pure torture then, but the buildup to the finale is indescribable.

“You don’t get to fucking cum until I tell you to cum. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes! Yes, Daddy,” you babble, nearly incoherent from arousal and denial.

He makes you writhe there, pussy so slick its soaking the blankets and you’ll have to change them later but the only thing you think about is your cunt, your weeping cunt that’s screaming to release.

You feel your breath slowing and know that Jimin wants you to come back down to earth before he’ll bring you up again.

“Good fucking girl,” he kisses your belly, licking at the navel. He whispers quiet words of adoration as he trails down your abdomen and end at the top of your mound. Your legs are shaking, no, they’re nearly convulsing from need.

He spreads your folds, and it’s pornographic the way he spits on your pussy, as if it needs any more wetness. It’s not about the wetness, though, and you know it. It’s about the message, the ownership.

“My favorite little fuck toy,” he murmurs, lightly tracing everywhere but the bud throbbing with need for friction. “I can’t wait to cum inside this little pussy tonight. Gonna flood your whole fucking cunt, babe.”

Jimin knows the way to your heart, and the way to your orgasms is through his words. Gentle whispered ‘i love you’s’ in the day and disgusting filth at night. It’s just another reason in a list of a million why you work so well together.

“Should we get you nice and pregnant tonight? You want to make a baby?”

You nearly sob at his words. He can fuck you harder with his words than his cock.

“Please!” You’re yelling, tears streaming down your face. “P-please! I want your baby.”

He leans down and smiles for a moment before speaking. “Well, my little wife will always get what she wants when she asks so nicely.” His lips attach to your clit, suctioning it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. It’s swollen and slick, and it feels like fucking heaven. His plushy lips are working for it, taking you so desperately close to the edge.

You’re gasping a symposium of his name and praising the ground he walks on. You’re sure if you died now you’d die a very fucking happy woman. The world around you is gone, and it’s just Jimin’s sinful mouth suckling at your cunt.

You’re close again, and Jimin knows it. You’re begging, pleading with him, but it’s useless as he roughly pulls away.

The music continues on in the background. It’s lighter, and Jimin croons in the speaker as he grunts in your ear.

He muffles your anguished cry with a messy kiss that tastes of you, and he’s thrusting into you. The slickness guides him in easily and he’s whining against you at the feel of your walls accept him and hugging him tightly as if they’ve missed his cock swelling within them.

“JIMIN!” You’re seeing fireworks as your husband fucks into you, holding you close to him. It’s as rough and kinky as it is intimate and sweet. He holds you, cherishes you, while he’s pistoning his thick member into your loud, drenched cunt.

“I love you,” he whispers, slipping a thumb into your mouth that you suck at eagerly, as skilled with his fingers as you are with his cock. “I love you so fucking much.”

His eyes align with yours, yours full of tears of absolute unrivaled pleasure, and his with full and never-ending devotion.

You’re both so close, and you pull him against you to kiss his lips. You want to connect completely to him as you cum, as he spills into your womb and creates something, someone there.

Your cunt flutters intensely, quaking in anticipation as it builds and builds and builds. Jimin breaks the kiss to breathe and warn you, “I’m going to cum soon, baby, please cum with me.” He’s gentle and sweet, the Jimin who cries at love stories and wears flower crowns now present inside you. You nod quickly, gasping as the coil winds tighter and tighter.

Your kissing is messy, passionate, and your hands grasp him everywhere. You’re tugging at his toned arms and solid back, seeking refuge as the tidal wave grows impossibly high, higher, so so high,

And crashes into you at 100 miles per hour. Your cunt is contracting and pulsing around him so intensely you nearly black out, crying loudly into his mouth. He’s groaning with you, the feeling of your already impossibly tight walls clenching down on him demands the orgasm out of him. He’s cupping your whole face in his hands as he spills into you and your walls suck him in further, so far he could disappear completely.

It feels as if you orgasm for hours, but it's merely minutes later that you’re trying to catch your breath and slip back into reality. You’re clinging to each other like last lifelines and the gaze between you is so intense it clenches at your racing heart.

The silence between you two is long and speaks an entire conversation before your lips even open. He’s singing so sweetly through the speaker, it sounds like he’s singing directly to you. “I love you,” you’re whispering to him.

He rubs at your cheeks in his palms, wiping away stray tears of bliss that have slipped down your face.

“I love you.”

You settle into him, unwilling to move a single inch away from your husband, and marvel at the beauty that is your life, your future.

Jimin holds you close, kisses you gently and sings softly along to the music as you fall asleep, and he adores the fact that he holds his entire world, his future, in his arms.

#bangtanarmynet #maknaesmutsociety #kwritersworldnet #btswriterscollective #btswritersnet #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts jimin #bts park jimin #jimin #park jimin is a dom #you cannot change my mind #well maybe you could #but a girl can wish okay

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lixie-lovie · 3 years

Text

{ Rogue princess | skz }

l.felix x f!reader

Genre: ??? fluff, angst ig, royalty au, princess!reader, star child!felix, idk u tell me

Warnings: a bit angsty, bad relationships at the beginning, issues with parents, vague mention of past death, mention of animals, mentions of running away

((If anything needs to be added to warnings, lmk! I’ll fix it asap))

Word Count: 5.2k

Note: did I write this literally to comfort myself today? Yes. Have fun reading this reallllyyy self indulgent fic lolz. Hope anyone reading this has a good day! Ily

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A throne made of gold and satin-like velvet, all tyrian purple. Too large this seat felt, as did the hall full of people standing under gilded light filtering through the large stained glass window. Here you sat, next to your father in an even more ornate throne, in front of a crowd of people who knew your name, your face, but nothing of your soul.

They couldn’t name that green was your favorite color because of the trees you would catch glimpses of through the windows of your tutors room, ever strong through the seasons never having to carry the weight of a kingdom. They would never be able to name why ships made you weary and claustrophobic or that your favorite flowers of springtime are those that bloom away from the castles gardens when eyes aren’t watching. They couldn’t guess your favorite piece of music, the one you never heard at those god forsaken balls. They never could place that instead your favorite would be the one that came ever so gracefully from under your mother’s fingertips at the piano that used to spark so much joy in the hearts of the people, but now sat lonely collecting dust. They didn’t know you longed to reach the stars someday, yearning for their delicate freedom in the inky black sky. They couldn’t tell that you wondered if they felt out of place too.

More so than anything else, they could never guess how much you hated staring at the men kneeling before you now, begging for a wife, a servant to their needs of pleasure, for the sake of “peace.” They would never know the disgust that sent a shiver down your spine at the twisted grin of these men that took your fingers in their too rough grasp and kissed that back of your hand, their sin tainted lips lingering moments too long. Their hands twitching at their sides with their sickening thoughts as they watched you stand from your throne, adjusting the circlet of silver adorning your perfectly crafted hair.

Your father, your king, grinned widely at the propositions made my these men, happy at the prospect of one of them taking your hand, winning your heart. Happy at the prospect of selling you away. A fair trade he’d call it. A duty.

He’d never understand, you came to realize. He was the man who had chosen your mother, the same way these creatures of lust in front of you are now. Readily ridding the world of her happiness and songs, harshly forcing her into a life of servitude, solitude, for the sake of duty.

“None of them would get it”

You’d say to yourself silently as you excused yourself to the washroom, wiping your disgraced palm clean of the suitors that you had been dancing with’s sweat, your nose scrunched in disgust. In the washroom you would stand, hands now pressed to the too warm mirror in that stuffy room, staring at your reflection. Your reflection stared back at you tauntingly, the flushed cheeks and too perfect hair, until your eyes got caught on the thin band gracing your head. The piece of metal that used to be the only thing tying you to your mother’s lineage, now was only an unwelcome reminder of your duties lined up in the other room, waiting for your hand in marriage. You sighed harshly, ripping the despicable band of silver off of your head, ruining the perfect waves your hair was lying in before. You laughed too hard, running your hands harshly over the layers of paint adorning your face. Your breaths became ragged as you tore the cloth sigil from the bodice of your dress, the only thing left showing your status in this deplorable kingdom and soon you realized, the only thing holding you back.

You stared at your own reflection, a haggard appearance of a forgotten princess staring back at you, and you smiled. Quickly, you rushed to the door, checking for footsteps, before finding your way to the nearest maids chambers. Stepping inside you grabbed a few essentials and a cloak as black as the night’s sky. Once you felt satisfied in what you had taken, you steeled your nerves before quickly and cautiously making your way to the stables, now abandoned with everyone attending the event.

Your eyes scanned the area quickly before settling on a horse with hair as white as snow and eyes the color of indigo. Your form slowed, your breaths coming out in soft pants as you made your way towards the creature in awe of its beauty. You reached your hand out slowly, to gain the trust of the majestic beauty. Suddenly and strikingly you heard a voice sounding from behind you.

“My lady! Where do you think you’re going?” A rough, calloused hand gripped your shoulder tightly, startling you. You turned around quickly, your arms raising defensively. As the offending party grabbed your wrists to gain your attention your excitement died down and your breaths came out easier when you took in the features of Changbin, your personal first knight assigned to you. Your expression became one of relief as you took in the worried, curious look resting on his angular features in the low light of the stables.

“I’m leaving, Changbin. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I can’t go through with this. Please don’t try to stop me..” You said gripping his hands in yours, staring into his eyes hoping to portray the feelings pooling in the base of your throat, causing your words to come out choked. “I’ve already made up my mind.”

“I’m sure I couldn’t change your mind if I wanted to, princess. Here, take this.” He said, smiling softly. A gentle sigh left his lips as one hand reached into one of the many holsters on his person, while the other drifted to comfortingly rest on the crown of your head. His large, rough hands pressed a small holstered knife into your palm. “It’s a blade your mother used to use. I was supposed to give it to you tonight at the ball, but this felt like the right time.”

For the first time that night you smiled genuinely, staring into his eyes softly in thanks while turning to prepare the horse for your disappearance. Changbin’s hands found your waist, hoisting you up and onto the back of the horse before he quietly led you out of the stables, checking for prying eyes and quietly uttering you a safe trip. You made simple promises to return safely to him, unsure of how much truth they held, but sure of the comfort filling your chest with the smile gracing his face.

With that, you turned your head to the dark forest ahead and took a deep breath to steady yourself before going on this possibly dangerous adventure. Then, like lightning striking your nervous system, you heard a voice you had hoped to never hear again.

“Y/n!” Your father’s voice rang out over the courtyard causing you to gasp and whip your head in the direction of the sound. Changbin’s worried eyes stayed trained on your face as your indecision bubbled in your chest at your father’s commanding tone. Quickly muttering some words Changbin sent the horse off running in the direction of the forest, your confused mind allowing the actions to happen wordlessly as you watched Changbin draw his sword against his own king to protect you and allow you the freedom you had longed for.

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It had been moments, maybe hours, you were unsure. The sky bared no stars as you stared hopelessly heaven bound with your eyes blurred. The chilly air hurt your cheeks now dry from the rivers of tears at your actions. Your steed came to a slow, wearily looking around the dangerous wood. All that was to be heard around you were the low grumbles of the predators and the soft snapping of twigs. In the haze of your misery you were lost and cold, unsure of even your own safety as you whipped your head uneasily in every direction of unknown noises.

It was then that a loud howl sounded from somewhere nearby, a chorus of others following suit. You tried catching sight of the beasts making the horrid sound, but soon it seemed as though the guttural growls were surrounding you, closing in on their next meal. You yelped loudly as the horse became unsteady and afraid, dashing off towards the nearest escape. From your lips feeble shrieks of protest left, but to no avail. The creature’s of the hunt followed suit, a game of cat and mouse. Suddenly, one creature, the largest, leaped out from beyond a too dark clearing in front of your path, baring its fangs and lashing out with its dastardly claws. The horse came to an unsteady halt, rearing back and knocking your frail form harshly to the ground. You inhaled sharply, rolling away, your limbs tucked inward, as fast as possible from the now trampling hooves and paws. You held your breath, covering yourself with your arms and you cried. Tears poured down your face as you waited for the steps of the animals to recede. You heard their noises of primal instinct and found yourself counting the minutes down until they were long gone and satisfied with their hunt.

When your arms went numb and the tip of your nose was sufficiently frozen, you turned over in the dirt, wet with dew, to stare at the empty sky. Your tears came until they could no longer, your breaths uneven with bitter air exhaling harshly from your lungs, and as your eyes stayed trained upwards, you allowed yourself one prayer to any god that would listen.

Please. Just let me see one star. One being from above that would understand.

Abruptly you were taken aback by an unusually chilling wind blowing through the branches of the tall oak trees, causing you to wrap your arms tightly against your grimy, shivering self. Slowly you allowed the exhaustion of the night to take over your features, your eyes closing allowing sleep to take over your dirt ridden form. Finally, you felt some semblance of peace come over you as you drifted off, a prayer still sitting heavy on your pale, chapped lips.

“You’re one weird human.” Your ears suddenly perked as a deep voice suddenly sounded from somewhere nearby. You screamed, scurrying to cover yourself with some kind of protection. Your eyes scanned the surrounding area frantically searching for the source of the voice.

“W-who’s there?” You said with as little confidence as you could muster. You cursed your voice for shaking silently as you continued your frantic search for this possible danger. Your eyes landed on a large branch nearby and your legs moved on their own accord, sliding you harshly against the hard, cold ground to scramble to grip the branch tightly, turning and holding it out in a manner you could only hoped looked more threatening than it felt.

“So silly..” The deep voice chuckled out from somewhere behind you. You yelped, waving the stick in the opposite direction, hoping not to lose your footing against any loose rocks or sturdy tree roots. Your dress was torn and soaked and the gentle breeze now moving in random intervals was jarring and dancing around your cloaked form, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A sudden snapping sound from a branch above your head caused you to scream, throwing the large branch with all of your feeble might towards the offending sound. A larger breeze blew by, obscuring your vision with your own hair and you scrambled to remove it from your vision. As your finally were able to get a glimpse of a male slinking towards you another breeze blew harshly by causing your to sigh sharply, your hands flying back up to your face to remove the hair blocking your vision yet again. “Your gonna hurt someone throwing those things.” The voice sounded again, humor twinkling off of his lips with smooth curls of laughter.

“Who are you? What do you want with me??” You said, your feet backpedaling as you finally removed your hair from your face again to take in the sight before you. Your eyes scanned the clearing of trees in the dim light unable to find the man you had been questioning and just as you began to question what was even real, you heard him again, your head whipping in the direction of the sound.

“I should be asking you that, considering you called for me..” He said, the humor never leaving his tone. You began to feel embarrassed at the thought of this man laughing at your pitiful state. Your cheeks grew red and your ears felt hot as you began wondering why you didn’t feel as in danger as you had earlier that night, deciding to deem it all on how wild the rest of your night had already been. Instead of answering you simply furrowed your brow, scanning and searching with your eyes still trying to find the source of the inquiry. Out of the blue in the still night, yet another breeze blew by roughly, chilling you to the bone. A branch suddenly creaked above you and you scrambled back to get a view of what could be perched there.

“Looking for me?” What you found, illuminated by the dim white moonlight, was a boy, seemingly about your age, swinging his legs softly to the gentle sway of the winds. His hair was strikingly white, pure as snow. His pale skin shone softly as if covered gingerly in new born stars. His eyes held mirth, much like his cheshire smile, and his whole body was lax with amusement as he stared down at you. In shock you stumbled backwards, falling over yourself and landing harshly on the ground, yet again tonight staring up at the sky. You felt the wind tousle your hair, but you didn’t seem to have the energy to care much as your mind grappled with its own questioning thoughts.

“Uhm..lady? Are..haha..are you okay?” His question, broken with impish laughter, felt comforting in a way as he leaned over your form, searching your face with curious eyes and a interrogative furrowed brow. You turned your head softly, staring into the now shocked eyes of the boy with the angular features and moon like eyes before suddenly your lips twitched, the corners of them quirking before a laugh began to bubble out of your chest. The laugh itself with incredulous and loud, joyous like a little kid finally discovering how something works. The boy looked back at you, tilting his head like a confused puppy as he watched you sit up slightly, leaning on your elbows. He didn’t make a move to back up or give you any space, instead leaning closer to examine you further.

“Did you hit your head or something, funny lady?” He said, his deep voice and boy-like expression of wonder and frustrating confusion only spurring your laughter on further as you grappled for breath. The events of tonight were catching up with your exhausted state and you found yourself wondering if this boy who shone so brightly on this gloomy night was even real.

Once you could finally catch your breath you sat upright and really took in the sight of him. He may have seemed young on the outside, but somehow he held a powerful aura, like he knew more then he let on. His smile was dazzling as he stared up at you with eyes that twinkled with a silent knowledge. You felt as though he was looking past your filthy outward appearance, and instead he was reading through your soul, listening silently to the story you couldn’t find the words to tell.

He stood suddenly, as if he found the answer to the question that had been dancing around like the winds, curling through each of your minds. His smile became softer and more genuine as he looked down at your still seated self and slowly outstretched his hand. It was a gesture you were unfamiliar with. It wasn’t a sudden, demanding grasp of your non-consenting hand. It wasn’t rough and calloused, with a predator-like grin gracing his features, but, instead, as you slid your hand over his palm in a silent proclamation of trust you found yourself reveling in how silky smooth his larger, more slender hand felt wrapping around yours in a protective gesture. He glanced at you, a playful smirk playing on his cherry red lips.

“Do you trust me?” He said, his deep voice breathy and patient, allowing you whatever amount of time you felt like you needed before you nodded slowly, hesitantly. He tilted his head in a munificent gesture, encouraging you to verbalize your thoughts. You felt the minuscule inkling of a curl to your lips forming, your eyes catching on how he seemed to be emitting light in this dim forest. The wind blew softly, ruffling your hair and caressing your now heated cheeks. He watched your features carefully as you bowed your head and giggled to yourself at the sensation of the winds dancing around the both of you. The chilly night felt warm as you turned your head slowly and methodically towards him again, your eyes glistening with an unreadable emotion and you breathed in deeply in a more relaxed manner.

“I do.” You said, beaming up at him now, your small, frail hand squeezing his a little tighter. He smiled fully now and to you it felt like sunshine. He watched your face, entranced in your beauty taking not of how grateful he was to have answered your call tonight, vowing to bring that smile back whenever he could. Your expression grew concerned as the look in his eye changed and he suddenly pulled you towards him, wrapping one arm around your shoulders before taking off in a sprint.

You tried to match his pace with a yelp, the wind now pushing you around forcefully. Your cries of protest were drowned out with his hysterical giggling. He forced you forward for a few more minutes as you began to question his strange motives before suddenly he came to a stop. His landing was much more graceful then your sudden stumbling forward, but as you gained your footing your objections died in your throat as you took in the sights around you. The forest behind you now, you stood in a clearing with grasses tickling your ankles, but the most impressive thing about this sight was the flowers. In full bloom, covering the surrounding area as far as your eyes could see were twinkling white flowers. Some stayed small and subdued, while others were larger, demanding more attention, but all of them shown with outstanding luminescence. Your breath caught in your throat as you stood completely rigid, taking in the sight.

You then felt a soft breeze, pulling your out of your shock with a shiver before you felt an unexpected heat radiating from behind you. You felt a soft hand trace your jaw from somewhere behind as you held your breath expectantly. His hand moved from your jaw to trace the outline of your neck, gathering your hair lying there and tying it tenderly away from your face. Your sudden inhale as his fingers tickled the nape of your neck caused him to chuckle, his close proximity allowing you to feel his warm breath fanning over your shoulders. You suddenly felt balmy as he leaned his face closer, his breaths coming out in an intoxicating manner, dancing around the area where your neck meets your shoulder.

“Look up.” He said, his voice coming out in a heady whisper. You gasped as you complied, your head whipping up too quickly, causing the male to snicker behind you. You couldn’t seem to care as you took in the sight before you. The once empty sky was now covered in brilliant gleaming stars, all feeling as though they were staring right at the two of you, encouragingly. You weren’t sure what they were encouraging, but just the silly thought itself had you laughing softly, your eyes slowly trailing over everything in front of you yet again. If it weren’t for the questioning hum the man had released you may not have even noticed the sturdy arms wrapped loosely around your waist or the cool skin of his cheek now resting on your exposed shoulder. You may not have even taken note of the breath now fanning comfortingly over your own blushing cheek of the look in his eyes as you turned slightly in his arms to get a better view of this new expression.

He took in your overwhelmed face as you tried to form words for the thoughts racing through your mind and he laughed, his head tilted back and chuckles racking his toned chest. You took in the movement behind his green tunic, complimenting his pale skin and you blushed again, turning your face away sharply. He gripped your shoulder with one hand softly, making sure not to startle you, while his other hand outstretched softly to point towards the cushiony grass beside of you. You took the hint and made a move to sit and take in the view before you.

He giggled as he helped move the layers of your dress away so you could sit comfortably before taking his seat beside you. You found yourself becoming encumbered with exhaustion and slowly with the gentle breeze swaying the twinkling lights, you let your head pull to the side to rest easily on his shoulder. He moved slowly as to not jostle you allowing more comfort for your tired form.

“You know, lady. I never caught your name..” He said, a hint of gentle humor lacing his deep baritone.

“I’m sorry..” You hummed out, “I’m y/n. Supposed princess of this kingdom.” You said, your tone sounding harsh even to your own ears. “I’m not sure I’d like to even ask who you are.” You said, laughing to help lighten the mood.

“Hmm.. I don’t think I was ever given a name where I am from.” Your brow furrowed at his response as you moved your head from its resting perch to look up at his questioningly. He laughed again, his body folding as he chuckled at your expression. “A story for another time, y/n.” You accepted his response begrudgingly, distracted by the way your name sounded on his lips.

“So what are you going to do when morning comes, little one?” He said, no malice in his tone. You sighed harshly flopping backwards to lay in the soft grass fully, surrounding yourself in the perfumed scent of the fluttering flowers. He took that as an answer in itself as he watched you, amused.

“You need to go back.” You groaned loudly as these words left his lips and he laughed as he shushed you, pushing you softly causing you to dramatically roll over laying your head on his thigh, a noise of protest leaving your bemused lips. “Let me finish would you!” He continued, annoyance playfully covering the syllables while he ran his fingers gently through your messy hair. You smiled, appeased for a moment while staring longingly towards the stars above. The sky was lightening and you felt your smile slipping at the realization that they would be gone again soon.

He frowned watching your face grow frantic with concern before softly resting his cools fingertips on the bottom of your chin, non-forcefully turning your face in his lap to look at his own passionate expression. He tilted his head to match the angle of your, his silliness making you giggle softly before continuing.

“You may have to go back, but you can always come back here, it’s all for you.” He let his eyes slowly trail over you, landing on your hand twisting anxiously tearing up small strands of the grass without realizing. He slid one of his hands comfortingly down your arm, trailing his fingertips lightly over the back of your hands. It felt as if getting a sunburn, getting too close to the beauty of something terrifying. “Look to the stars, I’ll always be there, watching and waiting.” He finished, his voice getting deeper with each second he stared at your animated expression staring up at him expectantly.

You felt your eyes welling up with tears at the peace being here brought to you, knowing it would be ending soon. You tried forming words, prayers, but your lips were too wobbly and my voice was too weak.

“When will I see you again? Wh-what should I even call you??” You finally managed to squeak out, the thick, hot tears you felt curling down your cheeks didn’t sting nearly as much as the thought of leaving him here, only to return to the torturous duties lined up for you at your home. He smiled sadly at you, blurring your senses with how ethereal he looked. His hands twitched against your wrist as he continued his comforting path, avoiding your eyes as he furrowed his brow in thought. Without thinking, out of desperation for an answer, you swiftly intertwined your own fingers with his, your palms slotting together as if fitting missing puzzle pieces together.

“You’ll see me when you need me.. but I’ll always be there.” You pursed your lips in a pout and he smiled again, taking his hand once tangled in your hair and running it slowly, methodically over your furrowed brow, smoothing the skin there and allowing your features to find solace again. “and why don’t you give me a name that you like, y/n.” He offered, his voice softer than you had heard it before, no amusement, only timid hope.

A name. Something so uniquely human. Something lovingly crafted for an individual. Something that holds meaning and myth. Something totally your own. You frowned in thought for a moment and he watched as your eyes glazed over patiently. Suddenly, you sat up rigidly, turning to face him, leaning closer then you had ever been previously. The sudden movement startled him, causing him to laugh awkwardly, his eyes blown wide while staring at your expectant and excited face.

“I’ve got it! I’m going to call you Felix!” You exclaimed. He furrowed his brow, tilting his head and repeating the syllables slowly, testing the way they tasted on his lips. Then he smiled at you teasingly, taking your breath away briefly. You rushed to find some way to explain yourself before the heat fighting it’s way up your neck found your cheeks. You stared into his eyes determined before explaining. “It means happiness. I found happiness tonight, here with you, when I couldn’t back there. They may not ever make me happy, but I have you. My happiness. My Felix.” You finished, grinning widely, appeased.

His grin couldn’t be contained as he laughed softly at how cute you could be. As he let his grin take over his features he let his eyes drift over your close proximity. His fingers began to unfold from between yours, drifting their way up your wrist, feeling your rushing heart beat. They slowly danced over your shoulder making you shiver slightly, as he noticed his teeth took purchase in his bottom lip, the movement catching your eye. His fingertips barely tickled the skin of your neck, causing goosebumps to break out over your skin. Once his hand pushed your hair back, tucking it behind your ear you could hear your own breathing, practically panting at his gentle actions. The longing in your eyes causing his eyes to become hooded with a guarded emotion.

Slowly, his hand found its place on your cheek, his cool palm was in great contrast to your too warm skin. You reveled in the feeling, yearning to remember the way this solace felt in this moment. He smiled softly, a flash of teeth all you could see before he was leaning in tenderly. He allowed you to make the moves on your own as well, only continuing forward when you would and only you were both nearly touching, so close you were breathing the same air, he allowed himself a glance at your pink lips. His tongue darted out to wet his own lips before he pulled back slightly a serious expression on his face.

“Can I?” His voice came out breathy, heavy with something you couldn’t name. You smiled softly, pleased with his ability to ask, always thinking of your feelings first. You couldn’t even resist long enough to answer before you were wrapping some of your fingers around his larger wrist, tangling the others in his too pretty hair, pulling his face towards yours and connecting your lips together passionately.

This kiss was unlike anything you had ever heard of, instead of sparks and passion it was butterflies and subtle hints of laughter you could feel bubbling in your chest. The kiss was lingering and slightly bittersweet. You could taste the saltiness on your lips from your tears mixing with the sweetness of his lips on yours. It was perfectly melancholy and grossly beautiful. Tragedy in the form of serendipity.

As you parted Felix’s hands soothed your cheeks and wiped your tears, a smile playing jokingly on his lips. He poked your nose and leaned forward to kiss your forehead lovingly. You smiled through the onslaught of tears and gasped at the dawning sky above you now. Your eyes frantically searched for stars you knew you wouldn’t be able to see anymore, until they fell on Felix’s sad expression. He tried to smile softly for your sake as he stroked your cheek gently.

He then removed himself from you, before standing and helping you up as well. Once you were both standing, staring at each other with eyes full of unspoken words he breathed in deeply before leaning in to plant another swift, stolen kiss on your lips. You smiled as he pulled away, staring at the way his handsome features curled in amusement at your shocked form. He then, without your noticing, had moved his hand to the back of your head and with a soft mutter of words he knew you wouldn’t understand, you were suddenly unconscious in his arms. He lifted you, bridal style, and began walking back towards the forest where you had first met.

——

Once you all were back to the castle, a gentle breeze swaying the curtains, he laid you tenderly on your bed, smoothing your hair out around you and covering you with your own cushion-like blankets.

“Forgive me, princess. I usually would have asked.” He laughed quietly as you stirred in your sleep, as stubborn as you would have been awake. “I won’t be here when you awaken, but I’ll be back for you. You never have to be alone.” He slowly leaned forward, delicately placing a feathery light kiss on your lips. He made his way back to the window, tiptoeing as to not wake you, before turning to get one final glance at you.

“I’ll stay for you, y/n. Always.” He said, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips as a singular tear, the color of moonlight fell from his eye before all that was left in the room was a lonely princess and a gentle, light air dancing through the window like laughter and stolen kisses on a night only two will remember.

——————

#lee Felix #Felix x reader #lee Felix x reader #reader insert #skz #stray kids #straykids x reader #rogue princess #royalty!au #princess!reader #moonchild!felix #star!felix #fluff #angst #self indulgence at its finest #one shot #ill edit this later

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thebountyfucker · 3 years

Text

Three's a Company

18 + ONLY - NSFW

Embo/F!Reader/Bossk

This one has been sitting in my drafts for a while but I got bored so I finished it. Enjoy!

Tags: PiV sex, anal sex, DP, Embo's tongue, use of a vibrator, some violence.

Here's a link to my masterpost

The lights were dim, the music low and sultry. A Zeltron woman danced on a table wearing nothing but a scanty bodysuit. The scent of booze and bar snacks filled the air. This was unlike the Guild Headquarters that you were used to; you had only been once before, and the place was usually aflutter with the conversations of bounty hunters and mercenaries. Now, the place was rather reticent. The hunters and mercs were still around, sure, but their attention was drawn elsewhere. And by elsewhere, it usually meant on a pair of tits or a wayward bulge.

You, yourself, weren’t much of a dancer, but you were something nice to look at. Your job was, quite literally, walk around the place and drum up the sexual hunger. You could take a client or two, but it wasn’t a requirement. Thus far, no one seemed entirely interested. But that didn’t bother you.

You strutted past a table, not paying too much mind to who was there, until you noticed that you were being waved to. You approached, putting on a sultry smile, and leaned against the table. Staring back at you was a Trandoshan man - one of the Guild Leader’s sons, Bossk, if you remembered correctly - and a rather grumpy Kyuzo. Bossk, who had his arm wrapped around the Kyuzo’s shoulder, gave his friend a jostle.

“Are you entertainment?” Bossk asked, his long tongue flicking out to wet his lips. You nodded slowly.

“Sure am. What can I do for ya?” You leaned forward, accentuating your chest with a smirk.

“You see, my buddy here-,”

“We are not friends.” The Kyuzo interrupted.

“-well, it’s his Life Day-,”

“It is not.”

“-and I was looking to help him get laid.”

“I do not need your help getting laid.” He shrugged Bossk’s arm off, much to Bossk’s dismay. The Kyuzo crossed his arms over his chest and slumped in an odd little pout. Bossk rolled his eyes.

“Obviously you do, or you wouldn’t be here! Come on, Em… they weren’t worth it anyways.”

You watched the two interact, entertained. You had not been expecting this when you came over, but if you were telling the truth, this was the highlight of your rather boring night.

“I do not know what stories you are concocting, but there is nothing wrong.” Em tipped his large, circular hat down to cover his face. You sent Bossk a glance, and he shook his head. You eased onto the bench beside the agitated bounty hunter, and rested a hand on his thigh.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. I am fine. I would be better off if I was left alone, though.” He growled lowly, and you retracted your hand.

“I’m sorry…”

“It is not your fault.” He turned to glance at Bossk, who was watching the Zeltron table-dancer disinterestedly.

“I’m sure the bunks are much quieter, if you’re looking for some peace.” You offered Em, and he nodded at this.

“Yes… that would probably be best.”

You scooted off of the bench and moved away, allowing Em the space to leave; you knew it wasn’t any of your business, but you hoped that somehow he’d have a better night. Only, that hope was quickly dashed.

Em moved to stand and exit the booth. The movement caught Bossk’s attention, and he let out a hearty laugh.

“Go get her!” Bossk pulled his hand back, and gave Em a hearty smack to the ass - it was likely meant to be a cordial gesture, akin to those athletes gave to one another. But you watched the way Em’s eyes flickered with rage, and Bossk knew in that moment that he had messed up. He moved away, but wasn’t quick enough to escape the swift kick to the chest. Bossk slammed into the back of the seat, coughing and hissing as he grabbed at his chest. Nearby patrons turned to see what was going on. Em straightened, brushed off his skirt, and waded through the crowded floor toward the bunks. You rushed to Bossk’s side.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Good.” He croaked as he rubbed his chest. You were surprised he wasn’t doubled over in pain. The kick looked like it was intended to cause some damage, maybe in the hopes that this would deter Bossk from bothering Em again. Bossk seemed sufficiently deterred, though, refraining from chasing after his ‘friend’.

“Are you certain?” You pressed a gentle hand to his chest, feeling for any broken ribs. Despite the force of Em’s kick, there seemed to be no broken bones. That was good.

“Yeah. Guess I was pressing his buttons too much.” Bossk muttered.

“How long were you pestering him?”

“... All night.” Bossk admitted, reaching for the glass that was sitting on the table.

“Why?”

“Rumor had it that he was going through some sort of break-up. We need him on his best game, and I was trying to hurry along the healing process.” Bossk shrugged, his voice slowly losing the wheeze that the kick had given him.

“I see… perhaps I could help with that.” You patted Bossk’s leg. “I’ll be back.”

You got up and weaved your way through the crowd, your sights set on the hall leading to the bunks. The Zeltron table-dancer was stepping down, only to be replaced by a Theelin burlesque dancer. The sultry music slowly shifted into something a bit more lively, and the crowd seemed to perk as well. You paid this no mind, though, as you slipped down the hallway.

You stopped at a door labeled 'Embo' and pondered. Bossk had called him Em, but maybe that was just a nickname. At the same time, it was possible that this 'Em' and 'Embo' were different people. It was a big galaxy after all. Deciding to risk it, you knocked and heard a husky 'come in'. You slipped inside.

Em - or Embo, rather- was sitting on the large bed, grumbling and drinking something out of a metal goblet. He hardly glanced up, but acknowledged your presence with a sweep of the hand. You sat on the end of the bed and met his gaze.

"Are you alright?" You asked, taking care to keep your tone soft and cordial. He scoffed.

"I assume Bossk sent you?"

"Yes and no. He told me that you weren't feeling so great but it was my decision to come." You replied, transfixed by the sight of his mouth. Previously hidden by a bronze mask, he sported dozens of wicked, carnivore-esque fangs. Long and sharp, you knew they could do some serious damage. You weren't sure why, but the thought aroused you. You ignored the warmth building in your cunt.

"He is delusional. There is nothing wrong." Embo replied, his golden gaze flicking to yours, noting the sudden, and potentially odd, fixation on his mouth. "You seem to have a staring problem."

You blinked and shook your head, an embarrassed tint marring your face. "I don't mean to. I've just… never seen anything like it."

"Mhm." Was all he said as he took a sip of his drink. A rivulet of the purple booze trickled down his lips, and his long, snake-like tongue flicked out to lick it up. Oh, there was that twinge in your cunt again. "Why are you still here?"

"I came to offer my services." You muttered in response, your mouth cotton-dry. He quirked a browridge, intrigued. "I was hired to take care of the Guild's guests. Of which, you are one. If there are any desires I can fulfill, you only need to speak them."

His gaze trailed down your body, as if he was inspecting a work of art; his gaze lingered on the swell of your breasts, and the curve of your hips… but he didn’t reach for you. He hardly said a word as he set his goblet aside and waved you off dismissively.

“I want nothing from you.” He replied, though his tone betrayed otherwise. You crawled up onto the bed, slowly slinking toward him, your heart pounding in your chest. He didn’t cower from your approach, nor did he move to push you away; rather, he responded with a stubborn glare. He was a tough nut to crack, this one… but you know you’d get to him. No man could resist your charm… or your cunt.

You parted his legs, crawling into the newly freed space and planting yourself in between his legs. You rested your hands on the mattress on either side of his hips, and leaned up to look him in the eyes, mere inches from him. He didn’t falter, his gaze burning deep into your soul. A shiver prickled at your spine, and you fought the urge to move away.

“Don’t play coy, sir.” You whispered, saturating your tone with desire. For him. For what he hid beneath his layers of skirts. For that wicked tongue. Your hungry eyes found his lips, and you pressed even closer. “I know that you desire me. It’s okay to admit it.”

“And if I do not?” Embo hummed, still resisting, yet not pulling away. You faltered for a moment, trying to find the right rebuttal. Certainly, he wanted you. Now, how could you get him to admit it? “Is it so hard for people to leave me alone?”

You broke your act at this, pulling away to give him the space he seemed to long for. You sat back on your butt, watching him, waiting for him to make a move. He nonchalantly reached for his goblet, and thrust it at you.

“Bring me another.”

You looked at the goblet, and then at him. “Uh… yes sir.”

You took it and scuttled out of the room, holding it with all the care in the galaxy. You figured he wouldn’t be too keen on you dropping it or scratching it in any way. You expertly dodged any interlopers as you swept toward the bar. You set the goblet down and pushed it toward the tender, who met your glance.

“Embo?”

“Yessir. Give him whatever he was drinking before.” You rocked on the balls of your feet as you watched the tender pull out a large bottle - it was green with little gold accents, with a wide, circular base and a narrow neck. He poured out the purple liquid, gave it a few swirls, and then handed it back to you.

“Don’t let him drink too much more of this, okay? This stuff is potent.”

You nodded in understanding and hurried off towards Embo’s room, trying to hold the goblet as steady as you could. You knocked, but didn’t wait for an answer, and slipped into the room. In the time you had been gone, Embo had shed his numerous layers and had put on a silk robe. He was leaning on his bed, as he had been before, though now he looked much more content. You wondered if his drink had finally kicked in.

“Here you are, sir.” You handed him the goblet, and bowed your head respectfully. He bowed his head in response, and took a small sip, humming appreciatively. You eased back onto the bed, and he gestured to you.

“Have you ever had zhizhi wine, pet?” He asked. You shook your head.

“No, sir.”

“Open your mouth.”

You did as you were told; he tipped your head back and poured a small stream of wine into your open mouth. The wine was thick - disarmingly so - and tangy, though the sting of alcohol was nowhere to be found. The wine warmed your body as it went down, and though you couldn’t describe why, you yearned for more. You reached for the goblet, and he pulled it away from your grasp.

“That would not be wise, pet.” He told you as he cupped your chin and tilted your head back down. “You humans do not process it the same way we do. Just wait. You will know why I cannot allow it soon enough.”

You thought Embo was talking a load of shit and being a selfish prick, but it wasn’t long before you understood what he was talking about. You could feel the buzz of the alcohol on the edges of your consciousness, despite you only drinking one sip. You let out a snort, then a giggle, before covering your mouth with your hand.

“What the fuck?”

“I did tell you.” Embo hummed as he leaned back, setting the goblet aside; his dusty green skin had flushed a brighter green as the alcohol worked its way through his system. You tried not to stare, but you noticed, through a crack in his robe, that he was not wearing anything underneath. And that it seemed that he was getting excited… You decided that it would be beneficial to try again.

You slipped between his legs, feeling the warmth of his thighs against yours, and reached up to play with the neckline of his robe. His large hand rested on the small of your back in response. You supposed this was good news.

“Sir, I don’t intend to be rude but… you look like you could use some attention.”

“Perhaps I could.”

“Could I… untie your robe?” You asked, your cunt throbbing at the prospect.

“Not until I see you first.” He responded, the hand on your back sliding up until it found the zipper holding your bodysuit closed. He guided the zipper downward until it couldn’t go any further, and you leaned back to give him the right angle to undress you. He peeled the bodysuit off your body, watching with rapt attention at the skin that was slowly exposed to him. You helped him pull it the rest of the way off of you. He tossed it off to the side. His ravenous gaze trailed down your form, taking in every inch of your soft, human skin.

“May I…?” You asked, leaning closer to him; the heat which radiated from him was akin to that of a furnace. Sweat began to bead on your brow. But your interest in what he had underneath his robe far outweighed the temporary discomfort of sweat. Besides, you had a feeling you’d be sweating a lot more soon.

He wrapped his large hand around yours, and directed it to the loose knot which held his robe closed. You swiftly undid the knot, and watched as his robe fell open. His chest was lean but strong, and peppered with scars. But this wasn’t what interested you. No, what interested you was his cock - half-hard and already longer than a human. You reached out to touch it, watching for any indication that he wasn’t interested. He gave you none, and you wrapped your hand around it.

A low, sharp hiss worked its way from his mask as you slowly and surely stroked his cock. His cock hardened in your hand, lengthening even further, and you idly wondered if he’d be able to fit inside you. He threaded a hand in your hair and guided you closer to him.

“Mmm… you are so lovely…” He purred as he leaned down to nuzzle your neck. You stroked him steadily. His hands slid down to the small of your back, pulling you flush against his chest; you straddled his thigh, grinding your cunt against his leg as you stroked him. “Mmm… you are wetting my thigh, little pet. Do you desire more than this?”

“Yes.” You breathed as you reached up to cup his cheeks. You pressed your forehead to his as his hands gripped your hips.

“Do you need preparation?” He inquired, and you glanced down to his cock - there was no way it’d fit without some proper foreplay to loosen you up. You slowly nodded, and he leaned you back onto the mattress. He rusted around in his drawers, and produced a small, thumb-sized vibrator. It buzzed to life, and he drew it around your clit. You hissed.

“I didn’t - I wasn’t aware that you knew of human anatomy!”

“I am well aware of human pleasure-spots.” He chuckled as he rubbed the vibrator along your swelling clit. Sharp sparks of pleasure shot through your body, igniting the fire in your belly. You tensed, and he purred. “Does that feel good, little pet? Hm?”

“Yes…” You whined as he drew the tip of the vibrator up and down along your clit. Your breaths came out as strained gasps as your pussy drooled onto his bed. He let out a hum of appreciation, drawing his finger up and down the glistening seam of your pussy.

“Very wet… let us see how tight you are.”

He pressed a thick finger into your pussy, slipping in to the first knuckle so he could massage the spongey membrane of your g-spot. You squirmed, grabbing fistfuls of his sheets and closing your legs around his hand. “Yes! Yes, just like that!”

He did as you told, continuing to massage your g-spot while drawing a vibrator around your clit. The tension mounted, and the fire in your belly threatened to spill over; your body went stiff, and you threw your head back in anticipation, only for him to turn the vibrator off and remove his finger.

“W-what the hell!?” You snapped, the obscene orgasm you were chasing slowly subsiding. He loomed over you, one hand resting near your head while the other lined up his cock with your yearning cunt. His head pressed through, and you stretched to accommodate it.

“Is this more to your liking?” He asked, his breath rattling through his mask. You nodded, angling your hips to give him better access. He slowly eased in, watching your face for any indication of pain or discomfort. When he found none, he continued to press in until you had completely sheathed his cock. You swore his cock had pressed up under your ribs, though you knew this was not possible. You were so completely impaled by him. You had never felt anything like it.

He gave you ample time to adjust, before slowly easing out of you. The sudden absence of his cock made you whimper, and he shook his head.

“Do not be getting cock-dumb on me now, little pet.” He stroked your hair as he eased back in, his cock hitting every sensitive spot within your yearning cunt. Your head lolled back and your back arched toward him, and he took this as a sign to continue. You both hardly noticed the company at the door.

A loud, rattling hiss filled the air, and you turned to spy Bossk standing in the doorway. Embo growled but didn’t stop. In fact, he went faster, harder, delighting in the way that your tits bounced as he did so.

“What are you doing here?” Embo muttered between thrusts. Bossk was palming himself through his pants, his tongue flicking out to wet his maw.

“Came to see if you were doin’ okay.” Was all he managed as he tentatively approached, watching Embo’s reaction for any adverse reactions. Embo ignored Bossk as he reached up to unlatch his mask; he set it down on the bed within easy reach and leaned down, his tongue snaking out to lap at your nipple. He leaned down to wrap his lips around it, his golden gaze meeting yours. Your entire body shook with a mounting orgasm, and you closed your legs around Embo’s narrow hips.

“D-don’t stop!” You cried as he pulled away to ravish the other nipple. You were faintly aware of the unzipping of a zipper, and turned your head to find the source of the noise. Bossk’s two cocks were mere inches away, hard and yearning. Embo replaced his mask.

“Lift her up…”

Embo glared but did as Bossk asked, pulling you up against his chest. The pause in thrusting pulled you from the brink of orgasm, and you whimpered. Bossk slipped up behind you, pressing his chest into your back.

“Lube?”

Embo sighed and reached over into his drawer to produce a little bottle. Bossk took it with a purr and you listened as he squirted it all over his cocks. He slicked his length and rubbed the excess along your asshole, and you sucked in a deep breath, preparing for the breach.

What you weren’t prepared for was the head of Bossk’s lower cock prodding at your already occupied cunt. You gasped, holding onto Embo tighter as you stretched to accommodate both of their cocks. You never thought you could stretch this wide and yet… Embo hissed at the sensation of Bossk’s cock pressing up against his.

Bossk’s upper cock pressed into your ass and you leaned forward to bite at Embo’s shoulder to contain the scream which threatened to escape your lips. Slowly, Bossk inched into you; he panted in your ear, his tongue sneaking out to caress your neck.

“You’re so tight. Fuck!”

You whined, leaning back against him as they both slowly started jacking their hips, their cocks sliding in and out of you in tandem. Your nerves zapped with ecstasy as their cocks caressed every sensitive inch of your cunt. At the same time, the sensation of Bossk’s cocks rubbing against the thin wall of flesh separating them was enough to make your head spin. Embo’s hands went to your tits, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive, swollen nipples. Bossk’s hands gripped your hips tight enough to bruise.

In and out, in and out, over and over again; their cocks put you in a daze as your body started to shake. Your eyes fluttered shut as they both uttered curses in their native tongues.

“Oh, oh!! I’m gonna-!” You cried out as the warmth in your belly threatened to spill over. They picked up their paces, thrusting unequally now at an attempt to usher forth your orgasm. It worked. You arched your back toward Embo with a loud cry, and a rush of fluids spilled out around their cocks as fireworks exploded within you. You felt electric. You felt alive. They didn’t stop their thrusting, chasing their own orgasms now even as your cunt tightened around them. When you regained control, you leaned forward, resting against Embo’s chest. You peppered his neck with tiny kisses.

“Are you gonna cum for me?”

He nodded, a bit frantically, as his pace became erratic. This drove Bossk closer to his own orgasm, and soon, he too was off-pace. Embo came first, spilling deep inside you with a soft hiss. This was enough to send Bossk over the edge, and he followed suit, though he was much more vocal about it. Slowly, gently, they pulled out of you, and you felt their combined cum seep out of you.

“Fuck…” You muttered as you laid back on Embo’s bed. He laid down beside you, drawing the pad of his finger over your stomach.

“Are you finished, dear one?”

You shook your head frantically, and he chuckled. “Good… And you, Bossk?”

“I’m just getting started.”

#iri writes #my fanfiction #star wars smut #smut #smut writing

17 notes · View notes

twsted-princess · 4 years

Text

Helltaker Girls Headcanons!!!

Tagging @dokiquents @angelprep and @lovely-selfships!

Pandemonica

* If you ever give her decaffeinated coffee and you’re not her s/o you might get stabbed. If you are her s/o then you’ll get off lighter but she will glare at you.

* She loves coffee flavored ice-cream and dark chocolate covered coffee beans and eats them a lot, she likes the crunch.

* When she’s in her sadistic mode she’s extremely flirty and loves making you squirm. You’re her arm candy and you’re gonna deal with it.

* Dates when she’s tired consisting watching shitty reality shows while eating takeout and occasionally ignoring the tv to make out. When she’s sadistic she’ll take you out to fancy high end places just to show you off and make you blush.

* Sometimes she’ll make a cup of coffee for you and then expect a kiss for doing “hard work”.

Modeus

* All of her clothes are comfy and soft looking but underneath she’s absolutely wearing leather and lingerie. Her fashion sense is lovecore with a dash of e-girl.

* She likes doing makeup for the other girls and styling their hair, sleepovers with their s/o’s are a common date.

* While she’s not used to romance at first but once she does she's the most affectionate out of the demons. She always wants a hug or a kiss or both and she loves being close to you.

* Has thot energy but surprisingly is faithful to you and the other demons, she might try to bring more people/demons/angels into the harem but only if it’s ok with her partner.

* Loves desserts with plenty of whipped cream and chocolate covered strawberries, she let you feed her and she’ll pamper you back tenfold.

Cerberus

* Will eat pretty much anything and everything but they love raw meat. Chicken, pork, eagle, pufferfish (with the poison as “seasoning”), humans.

* Doesn’t know how humans kiss so they’ll just lick you and think that’s a kiss.

* They blep. That’s it, that’s the headcanon.

* The best cuddlers by far, if you wanna take a good nap they’re your girls.

* If you’re their s/o expect to get pounced on every day and pulled around to various places for dates. They love how exciting the human realm is so they wanna see everything even if they always get into trouble.

Malina

* The best at keeping her alcohol and will drink everyone under the table, loves vodka with all her heart but she’ll drink any liqueurs as long as it’s hard.

* While she does like turn based strategy games she’ll play any of game.....though don’t give her Dark Souls or you’ll end up with a broken tv.

* Zdrada and her may butt heads 99% of the time but on the occasion they do care about each other. They love getting drunk together and watch The Room as a way of bonding.

* She’s pretty tsundere when it comes to affection, she’ll tell you not to touch her but then will put her head on your shoulder while she’s fighting a boss. If you point it out she’ll call you a “fucking moron”.

* Has a twitch channel and scam saps out of money while arguing with people in chat, sometimes she’ll let her s/o join her just to watch the shitshow.

Zdrada

* Loves alcohol just like Malina but she prefers shooters over straight up booze, her favorite is either a Fireball Cocktail with extra whiskey or a CS Cowboy.

* The type to wake up at 3am and go on a munchie raid. You wake up to see her eating hot pockets and drinking milk out of the jug. She’ll let you join her and might even hand feed you.

* She’s the older sister and she loves holding it over Malina’s head, even though she’ll get kicked in the kneecaps.

* Dates consist of getting into illegal shenanigans, get drunk and then fighting the entire bar, and watching the city lights from top of a skyscraper with some snacks just to talk about whatever.

* When she’s with you she can let herself go and talk about anything, knowing you won’t judge her. She can be herself and you’ll still be there. Honestly you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to her and she’ll love you endlessly.

Azazel

* Wrote angel/demon fanfics back in the day and she keeps it in a dairy under lock and key. She might show you but only if you swear to not laugh.

* She has the weirdest food combos like angel food cake with hot sauce and the demons respect her but they’re slightly scared.

* Bi but doesn’t know it yet. She just thinks that the demons are pretty without noticing it.

* Makes the cutest pet names for her s/o and will say them constantly. She’ll call you every single cute name and make you blush like crazy.

* Really wants to bring you to Heaven and show you to the other angels, she think you’ll make a good impression and just wants to show you off.

Justice

* Definitely gets a motorcycle when she’s in the human realm and treats it with the upmost care. She’ll take you out on late night joyrides and just enjoy yourselves.

* Her and Lucifer used to be in a relationship and even after they broke up (they had other things and it wasn’t messy at all) they still get along well.

* She loves human food and will take you out for dates. Her favorites are barbecue, hamburgers and ice cream, oh and is you get sauce on your cheek she’ll causally swipe it off with her thumb and lick it cause she’s that smooth.

* While she is the smoothest out of the ladies she loves being cheesy too and will use to dumbest pick up lines just to make you laugh. She think you have the cutest smile in the whole universe.

* She's the most open to affection and loves being able to hold you close. She'll also be affectionate with the other demons just to make them flustered.

Lucifer

* Not the biggest fan of waffles but will eat them, she likes crepes too and practically lights up when she tried one for the first time.

* Owns a hydra for a pet and named it Satan. It’s spoiled rotten and will bite everyone including you unless you’re Luci’s s/o.

* She’s a lightweight when it comes to alcohol cause she only drink wine and the occasionally martinis. Wants to drink harder stuff but after one cup she’s out like a lightbulb.

* If you’re her s/o then you’re gonna be on her lap most of the time until the other demons want a turn. She loves keep you close and might kiss you occasionally.

* Might be a classic boss bitch but sometimes you’ll find her eating Nutella out of the container and playing video games with Malina. You get to see her soften up considerably and it’s honestly sweet.

Judgement

* She’s the most shy when it comes to affection, you could literally hold her hand and her face will turn to the brightest shade of red in existence.

* While her “judge” voice is booming and kind of deep her actual voice is light and soft, she’ll start using her real voice once she’s comfortable with her s/o.

* Has no indoor voice and while she’s trying to tame herself she can’t help it, she must yell.

* Dates with her are surprisingly chill, she likes going on late night walks and listening to music in your room while you talk. She likes being at peace and you make her feel more comfortable then she’s ever felt before.

* Extremely protective of you and would do anything to keep you safe. She might teach you how to defend yourself but really she wants to be your protector and wants to make sure you’re ok.

Beezebub

* Acts snooty and all-mighty but can be quite sweet to her s/o. She can also be a bit flirty but if you use a pick up line she’ll melt.

* Will actually write self insert fanfics when she’s bored (and she thinks no one’s watching). She has an entire bookshelf filled with self insert stories cause they’re her favorites.

* She spoils her s/o with jewelry and trinkets inspired by flies or your favorite bug. She’ll get you whatever you want with a snap of a finger.

* Goes by She/They pronouns and will not hesitate to drag some poor soul who tries being an asshole over gender. Has no toleration for misgendering people at all.

* Absolutely adores spending time with you, loves being close to you and loves being with you. You make her so happy and she loves you with all of her undead heart.

#my work #helltaker

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hopeassassin · 3 years

Text

Rally’s Scribbles in the Work

So after that lovely anon blew my mind away with their kind words and wonderful support, and because I keep telling you guys about my writing plans without actually giving you even a teensy little detail, I have decided to stop being coy and actually likely get your hopes up a bit by dilvulging small details and bits of plots of what is currently going on in my G-Drive.

This will be a brief recount of what I have currently baking in the AoMomo oven, so let’s dive right into it! Please note that the numbers are in no particular order - I just keep revisiting each of these stories and writing a bit more to them whenever I feel like it. So there’s no ranking and no importance, just a number to keep proper count.

1. “Knight of Renown” Dragons and Knighthood AU, based on that one AoMomo pic with Momo ithe Knight and Dragon Aomine that I reblogged a while back and I actually let me imagination go a bit too much in the tags. I ended up actually rather enjoying the premise I set up in the tags so I actually started writing that one out! Completion rate at about: 5%? I’d say? Less? :D

2. AoMomo Music AU - a dearly beloved project that I am pouring a lot of love and attentioin to. That’s why it’s coming along super slow. It’s been in the making since November and I chewed it and mulled through it so thoroughly that I’ve grinded to a halt with it. Intending for there to be 2 chapters, and I am at about 25-30% of chapter 1 currently ready currently. At the pace I’m going, it might be another full year before you actually get to see this bad boy up, but when you do, I’m sure you’ll see all the care and effort that went into making it perfect. Honestly, no joke here, I am intending for this to be one of my rare masterpieces in this tag. So I’m not gonna rush it!

3. AoMomo Car Accident AU where Daiki barely manages to save Satsuki from being run over by a hit-and-run and ends up being the one run over instead. This was my first piece of writing after coming back to AoMomo last summer and yet completion rate is a sad thing. I want it to be flawless, a perfectly agonizing, thrilling type of torturous read that gives you a great sense of relief by the end of it. Needless to say, the clusterfuck of negative feelings is a bit difficult to hold onto for a prolonged period of time and the work is coming along slowly. Planned at about 5 chapters, I have 2 complete ones and the 3rd one is at about ... 30%? Hopefully before this year’s whumptober, we’ll have a finished piece!

4. AoMomo bond character study, which went in a direction I did NOT expect nor intend. It was suppsoed to be an idea that you will see also listed below. But I started this one from their early childhood and somehow, instead of focusing on the kids and their bond and their weird interactions with each other and their first moments of realizing they are of opposite genders, it turned into something much too fun to let go of and the ideas for scenes just kept piling. It’s going to be a long one, very explorative and very in-depth character study on the bond between these two and how it changed over the years, and their first encounters with their sexuality inbetween (because that was really the main idea that I started with... xDDD;;;) Currently at 1 chapter complete, chapter 2 somewhere around 50-60% completion, and at least 6-7 chapters to come after that, soooo.... :’DDDD YEAH. THIS ONE AIN’T SEEING THE LIGHT OF DAY ANYTIME SOON.

5. AoMomo deciding to practice stuff on each other, because I am a sucker for this trope.THIS will be what the idea under previous number 4 was SUPPOSED to be like, but it instead spun out of control. So this one, under number 5, is going to be the smutty, idiots bumbling through physicality to discover that they actually have serious feelings for each other kind of piece. Chapters are planned at about at least 6-7 or so, but not my usual monstrocities! :D First we start with practice kissing, and we move our way up from there!

6. “The Evil of Humanity” AU - a dystopian futuristic kinda mecha AU, sort of an amalgamation of some of my favourite anime in the genre - a bit of NGE, a bit of Gurren-Lagann, a lot of Darling in the Franxx rewrite and improvement, in distinctly AoMomo colors. I poured a lot of thought and love into initial outline of main moments for this one, and I really hope to make it an epic, thrilling action/adventure with a big dash of romance kind of read! Chapters currently not even planned properly, because I need to sit down and consider this seriously. It will definitely be more than 10-15 though, and they will be my usual chapter lengths so.... likely no time soon. :D

7. Aomine Fanclub - I got a plot bunny some time ago and I shared it here and my friends were spurring me on with it, so I started trying it out a little more. I’ve written out like... maybe 30% of this one as well, but need to re-read and reconceptualize to get it back on track. The issue with this one is that I’m not really sure where I want to take it, thus it’s on the back burner at the moment.

8. KagaKuro AoMomo double-date kind of story, where Aomine is asking some curious questions of Taiga about going to America and pondering if any of his immediate friends know what Satsuki wants to do with her life. I’m really invested in this one but haven’t started properly writing it out yet beyond just sketching out the idea so I don’t forget it. (I’d say 1% complete here.) Really looking forward to using the idea of Kagami being super impressed with AoMomo perfect sync when playing as a team in arcade games!

9.Laws of Attraction Chapter 2 - You might be surprised at this, but I’m actually super invested in this one. Likely the reason why I am delaying so much working on it - I feel like all my great scene ideas are just too chaotic and I have a hard time starting the chapter flowing properly. I had like 4-5 false starts already and I’m feeling a bit skittish with picking it up. But I have such AMAZING concepts on where to take it after it revvs up the engine, so... Maybe sometime this year! Completion rate: 0% written, but at least about 30% ideas built up for the installment!

10. AoMomo college rooming together story - sort of an expansion on my fill for one of the prompts way back those years ago in AoMomo week. I really dig the concept and the trope of sharing spaces with someone you consider nothing more than a friend and then gradually learning to appreciate each other for something so much more. I am definitely doing this one some day, but not anytime soon, likely.

11. A random idea bit me the other day (read: a month ago) and I actually wrote out like... maybe 25% of it already as well. A random comment from Wakamatsu miffs Satsuki but then she realizes why he’s asking dumb questions and she comes to realize that something is wrong with the equation: either Dai-chan likes someone really close to them and she hasn’t realized, which is unlikely, or Dai-chan likes HER and is super blase about it in a way that betrays his feelings not at all, which is even more unlikely. Being a curious individual, she sets out to find which it is! Some hilarity should ensue but mostly just some mess-with-Dai-chan fun!

12. Touou summer training camp at the sea - progress is practically 0, I wanted to write a summery piece and set my mind on this, but nothing beyond has come to me, so I’m not forcing it.

13. AoMomo cultural festival fic in second year of high school (meaning something approx end of Oct -> beginning of Nov.) with Daiki being in a distinctly Haruhu Suzumiya role at that festival (has anyone even seen this anime? I adored that episode to freaking bits, man, it’s engraved upon my soul) and singing Billy Idol’s “Rebel Yell” and one more song just like Haruhi did. And Satsuki just beholding the phenomenon he becomes in no time flat while he lays bare his passion for life for all the student body to see. Shippiness will happen in private afterwards!

14. You Can Leave Your Hat On Chapter 2 - Probably like 2-3 years ago while I was still in the damn woodwork and wrestling with real life and adulting being crap, I remembered this AU premise and I got super hyped on the idea of Club Owner Dai-chan being a flirt with innocent Satsuki who got dragged to his joined and fell in love at first sight with his shenanigans. I’ve already played around for like 7k words with the second chapter of this but I’m still not where I want to be at, so it will take a while longer to flesh it out.

15. Idol Worship - a story that I promised my mate aricana some 6 years ago the premise for which I am super hyped for but not quite engaging with it yet. The idea was that Momoi finally starts gettiing the dates she has been pesting Kuroko for for years, and Daiki feeling terrible about beholding that, whilst Kise is being pestered by Horikita Mai for a date and instead ditches her with Daiki because he knows his former Teikou classmate is a huge fan of her. Mai-chan isn’t particularly happy but somehow ends up enjoying her time with Daiki and starts considering actually pursuing him instead of Kise when she sees what an interesting soul he is, with the torch that he’s carrying for some girl in his life he doesn’t really talk about but is evident from the little things he drops off as hits. AoMomo shenanigans will start to ensue properly when Satsuki realizes that Daiki is actually having a close female friend who is not her but is Horikita Mai instead, Dai-chan’s perfect woman, practically. She doesn’t take well to the news and has to grapple with why that is! And what to do with these newfound frustrating emotions!

16. Obstruction of Justice Chapter 3 - MAYBE SOME DAY, I WILL GET TO WRITING THIS. Last summer I inteded to do just that but instead, Wild Side of Justice was born. And it became a spin off of sorts on its own. ORZ. I WILL FINISH THIS SOME DAY, I do have some plans for it and I do have the desire to pursue them. I just need to be in the right headspace for it ahsjkfhkjaf

17. A PWP story of Kagami arriving early for a practice match at Touou and somehow walking in on AoMomo getting busy with each other in very unexpected and explicit ways that Kagami did not see headed his way. Because, we need more PWP in this fandom, honestly.

18. And since we DO need more PWP, recently when checking the 30 lemons community on LJ (shut up, I’m not ancient, YOU’RE ANCIENT) I was wondering how exactly a smut plot around the “Taken by the Faceless Stranger” could work for Aomomo and I came up with this Masquerade ball that they end up both attending because of their friends and meeting each other and hitting off fantastically just chatting the night and then banging in a niche in the long castle-like premise of the ball. :’DDDD Cuz it’s me and if I don’t have something like that in the works, you know i’m likely sick.

ALL OF THESE I am planning on eventually finishing one day. ONE DAY!

For now they are in various states of completion and in various stages of being cared for and improved on with more ideas added and fleshed out.

I am not joking when I say I am very invested in this fandom. I just have difficulty getting to writing out these ideas when I spend like 60% of my free time playing my mobile games. :D

So there you have it. I didn’t want to say anything about these because 1) I don’t want to get your hopes up. You Can Leave Your Hat On 2, for one, has been in the making for 3 years, very on-again-off-again kind of way, and I just... can’t do that to you guys. I have decided against posting any incomplete fics so I don’t torture you guys and my muse doesn’t abandom me forever for them. So when something is complete, it gets posted promptly for your viewing pleasure!

And 2) If I divulge too much of the story, I feel like my hype of it may disappear completely. Ehh, my muse is a willful creature, what can I tell you...

So let’s hope at least SOME of these get to see the light of day soon!

#my scribbles #here you have it #a rather complete list of incomplete AoMomo stuff I'd say #Rally's works in the making #tagged as:#AoMomo #because it's all AoMomo #sorry for spamming the main tag with nonsense #Kuroko no Basuke #will I ever finish any and all of these?#here's to hoping!#a little bit insider info from the kitchen #fanfiction #writing

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jungcity · 4 years

Text

bane of the devil. | i

genre: vampire!jaehyun [ mature | angst | smut ]

pairings: jaehyun x female reader

note: bane of the devil deals with themes of physical, mental, and sexual abuse as well as toxic relationships. which may be upsetting for some readers. you are advised not to continue if you feel uncomfortable to these types of plots.

“father, i dreamt about a boy

his hands, bloodied

eyes like the shot of dawn

with the rebellion in his mouth

he tried to conquer

the moon

with the venom of his prayers

he tried to

search for a god

pray tell me father,

how do i love him

with no flesh, all blood

heaven help us,

how could he love me

if i am the sun?”

— jungcity, bane of the devil // i

Raindrops danced in the air as they fall from the clouds with the squalling winds intensifying the impact of it against the glass window panes. The murmurs and complaints filled the whole room, your classmates begging your professor to turn off the air conditioner. Your mechanical pencil lay forgotten above your table as you stare at the horizon from your seat beside the window. Oh, how you longed for your bed in this cozy weather.

Seven a.m. to seven p.m. class should be classified as a mortal sin— you could not, in the life of you, understand that type of abomination. It is cruel beyond reckoning. Especially when you sit on a room of thirty people, doing nothing as the heavy drops of rain and the cool atmosphere it provides slowly lulls you to slumber.

The only thing that prevented you from doing so was the loud slap of your professor’s hands on table, his voice echoing off the walls of the room. “Alright! Stop chattering!” He yelled as he raised a piece of paper in the air.

You slumped back in your seat. Here we go again. Every time your professors raise their hands while holding papers, you could not help but release a groan.

“Here is the plan for your next plate,” he started. “Photocopy it, take a picture of it, it’s up to you.” He then handed the papers to the student in front. You stared as your classmate’s face crumpled into a grimace while he skimmed the document. That— without a doubt— would also be your face once you get a hold of the plan.

“Just like the last time, bind your A3 papers with two fasteners. There must be a separate sheet for the front page. And please,” the professor exhaled, “Please don’t forget your names! How would I give you a failing grade if I don’t know who you are.” The groans rose up again from the students, your own commixing with the chaos of curses and prayers and the laugh of your professor.

“Hey, hey! Haechan!” You grabbed your friend’s shirt as he scurried off to your classmate in the front row. “Take a picture and send it to the group chat.”

He snatched his shirt away from your grasp while glaring at you, “I know! I know! Wait here.” Then he pulled out his phone, waving it onto your face before dashing to your classmate who has the plan.

You fished for your own phone inside your bag when a boy sat in front of you. He rested his arm on your table and propped his chin on his palm. “Damn, I’m surely gonna die before this semester ends.” Mark groaned, his eyes looking at your table.

You chuckled from your seat, “Three major plates to go, buddy.”

“I’m gonna sell my soul to Satan so I don’t have to do any of this bullcrap.” Haechan threw his phone on to the table. Luckily, you caught it before it slid down and shattered on the hard floors. He let out an infuriated sigh before grabbing one of the chairs and sitting on it beside your table.

“It’s that bad?” Mark grimaced as he pressed the power button of Haechan’s phone. The light of the screen illuminated his soft features in an instant, “Wow. Your phone’s brightness could blind a person,” Mark stated while blinking rapidly.

Haechan said nothing as he leaned his head on your table. You peek at the phone yourself, Mark slowing down his scrolling as you leaned closer.

“Five-storey residential? What?!” You exclaimed. Tons of plates are slowly piling up to you bedroom. Your drafting table could not even hold them anymore, they are littered all over the mattress and the whole place. As your eyes scrutinized the image of the plan, Mark let out a curse as he read the requirements of the residential building.

“Oh, no. The measurements are given,” Mark exchanged glances with you. “I won’t do this shit.” Then the phone toppled over the table again after Mark threw it. Haechan snatched his phone back with a special glare meant only for Mark before laying his head back on the table.

The rain continued to ravage the roof and the ground as the three of you rested your heads on your desk. Chatters and the shuffling of drafting materials once again dominated the whole room, with a few of your classmates cursing at the back as they play their online games.

“I had at least thirty-minutes of sleep today,” you declared. Your eyes feels heavy and your body seemed to be softening and turning into jelly by the sleep deprivation.

“Wow. I didn’t even have a blink of sleep myself.” Haechan mumbled, face still covered by his arms.

After your heavy nap, the three of you woke up with red-rimmed eyes. If you could continue sleeping in your room until tomorrow, you would. But of course, that is not possible.

Your classmates started to pack their things as the professor came back and dismissed the whole class. It has always been like that; your prof giving yet another plan and then dismissing the whole class two or three hours earlier than the scheduled time. You would have not attended today’s class if not for the other plates that needed to be submitted.

Despite the sullenness of your house because of your brother’s absence, you still wanted to go home and nap. It does not matter if you have mountains of plates to do, what truly matters is you, going home to the tranquility and safety of your house before midnight. It was a habit you’ve grown accustomed to since the untimely death of your parents.

Your path goes different ways from Mark and Haechan. That’s why you sat alone in the bus as they stand in the waiting shed while waiting for theirs. Both of them waved at you, mouthing the words ‘take care’. You answered them with a slight wave of your hand before putting on your earbuds.

The rain has calmed down already, leaving the stores drenched, the highway splotched with circles of rainwater. Yet the lightning still dominated the skies, white lights flashing like roots reflected in your irises as you stare at the bleakness of the heavens through the bus’ windows. The speed of the vehicle made everything blurry; from the blustery wind slapping against the trees to the lights from different stores. They filled your sight as the music continued to blast in your ear.

Your phone vibrated against your hand, stopping the music. You glanced at the screen and saw your brother’s caller ID. Johnny. Automatically, your brow shot up to your forehead. He has been away for two weeks now, doing God only knows what on the other side of the ocean. Of course, your big brother calls every night to check up on you. But tonight, he called earlier than usual.

You attempted to slide the green button when your cell phone flew away from your grasp, your head hitting the seat in front of you, eliciting a loud groan to escape from your lips. Loud protestations echoed from the students and elders alike, their own faces bedraggled as they recover themselves from the impact of the bus drawing to a halt.

“What happened?” An elderly woman asked, her hand on the middle of her chest while breathing heavily.

“There’s a person who crossed the road.” The conductor explained, but his words sounded unsure.

The woman’s eyes widened, “Is the person alright?” She stood up from her seat, one hand grabbing the railings in front of her.

“That’s what we’re confused about, Ma’am. The person is nowhere on the asphalt. He ran with a dashing speed… it’s impossible.” You didn’t know if it was amazement or fear that was laced with the conductor’s voice, but his statement caught your attention nonetheless.

The nagging curiosity inside your chest spreads like wild fire. If ever your intuition is right, you have to find that person or whatever that is. A speed like that could only be achieved by one creature. Your brother might call you a freak or a delusional little girl again, but it might be the only way to get answers. Answers that he did not bother to find when your parents died.

The truth is, years ago, your parents had their inopportune death. But the authorities has not yet to find the murderer. How could they? When there was no DNA in the crime scene but your parents’. How could they? If the murderer was not even a person to begin with.

Deep in your heart, you know. You know the world is enfolded with mysteries that a human mind would not be able to perceive. Cloak-and-dagger as it is, you understood that reality the moment you saw the two dots that were obviously from a penetration of fangs embedded in your parents’ necks.

‘Vampire! Vampire!’ was your unending scream at the morgue. Since you were only a little girl back then, no one paid attention to you. Not the policemen, not even your brother.

It did not surprise you when everyone called it a hopeless case. In their eyes, it was. But in yours, it’s not. Ever since your parents were murdered, you have been drinking the myths and lore of vampires. Day and night you devoured books, watched vampire sightings, studied their strengths as well as their weaknesses. It simply was a thirst you could not quench.

It was like that until you started college. You could not simply search for a free time to indulge yourself about those undead, blood-sucking creatures any longer. But every articles, every information, were still plastered to a blackboard inside your bedroom. A reminder of what you have been sleuthing for all your life.

Yellow lights illuminated the pool of waters on the asphalt road. You tiptoed as to prevent your shoes from getting soaked. Plastics, styrofoams, as well as vegetables skins from the uncollected drenched trash bins littered all over the street.

At long last, the shadow of your apartment appeared. Darkness invaded the vicinity, a quiet reminder that there isn’t any person present inside. You pulled out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, ten missed calls from Johnny were displayed in the notifications. Frustrated from what happened inside the bus, you continued to ignore his calls earlier, despite your phone vibrating continuously.

Your phone’s flashlight casted a white light upon the dimness. Keys in your left hand, and your phone in your right, you struggled to jam the keys into the hole. When the gates finally opened, you sent Johnny a text that says you’re already home.

“At long fucking last.”

Your phone went flying to the grass yet again as you saw a figure looming in the shadows. A silent curse slid past your lips as you hurriedly picked it up, dead and wet grass sticking onto the screen. Once again, you pressed the flashlight button to see through the darkness.

And there, in the corner near the door, a man with a bloodied face stares at you with a cigar in between his lips. Spontaneously, your heart thudded frantically in your chest. You wanted to shout, but the scream bubbled out in your mouth and then nothing came out.

“Who are you?” You managed to ask.

The man didn’t answer. He pulled something out of his pockets. You took a step back. Only when he struggled to light his cigarette you realized it was only a lighter. His hands continued to shake, and you have no idea why haven’t you screamed for help yet. They say curiosity killed the cat. Right now, you do not doubt the saying as your curiosity ascended your fear.

“Care to light this for me, kitten?” He stretched out his hand to offer you the lighter. His endearment catching you like a deer in the headlights.

“Who are you and what are you doing here? All bloodied?”

The man sighed and started to light his cigar again. “The name’s Jaehyun. I’m friends with your brother, Johnny.” He offered you the lighter once more, “Now, will you light this up for me? As you can see, I’m shaking and bleeding.”

After his last word, you glanced up and down his body, the light of your phone following your action. And then you saw as blood poured out from a wound on his side. You hadn’t noticed it earlier because of his black shirt.

“What— I don’t— are you alright?” What stupid, stupid question. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. Is this why your brother were so eager to call you? Because apparently, his friend stands bloodied in front of your doorstep.

“I feel like shit but I’m alright.” Smoke puffed out of his lips as he succeeded in lighting his cigarette after numerous attempts. “Won’t you open the door?” He nudged his head to the direction of the door. You blinked and felt the keys in your palms again.

“Tell me what’s happening first.”

It’s cruel, but if he manages to stay alive while blood gushes out of his stomach, you believed he could concisely explain to you what’s going on.

“Women are so fucking difficult,” he mumbled. “I will tell you everything once we’re inside and you’re stitching up my goddamned wound.”

“What?!” It was a scream more than a word. “Listen, I don’t know how to stitch up—”

He cut you off, “Well that’s a pity.” Then he threw away the bud of the cigarette to the ground. “Listen, I’m going to pass out anytime soon,” then he licked his lips, “Better open this door so we could get to business.”

“Promise me you won’t do anything to me.” It’s childish and you feel pathetic, but you said it anyways. Perhaps this man in front of you has a bottle of conscience in his system despite his unkempt look.

Jaehyun only looked at you, face impassive. “You’re not my type.”

You choked on your own saliva. “You’re unbelievable.” You ignored his smirk as you sauntered up to the door. Both of you were enveloped in a silence, the only noise coming from the keys jamming into the keyhole.

Another darkness greeted you as you opened the door, you searched for the switch with your sweaty hand. The metal tang the keys left on your palm wafted your nose, making you feel gross and dirty.

You wrenched the keys out of the hole as the light finally infiltrated the living room. Your brow shot up when Jaehyun made no move to enter the house.

“Invite me first,” he stated.

If you could raise your brow higher, you would. His question was unexpected for someone itching to enter your house mere minutes earlier.

“Come… in?” You reluctantly offered.

There was mischief and bad news in his eyes as he stepped inside the house. “So the authorities would say that you invited me willingly.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” You demanded, gripping the doorknob tightly.

He only winked at you. But you are not having any of it. It was a bad idea inviting this stranger inside.

“Get out.” You ordered. Jaehyun attempted to say something but you repeated the words with enough ferocity. “Get out!”

He held up his hand, his right pulling out something from his pockets again. A paper.

“Here.”

You stared at the paper for a good two minutes before you snatched it away from his hand.

This is to certify that the apartment owned by Johnny and Y/N Y/L/N has been sold and therefore owned by Mr. Jung Jaehyun.

No. No, no, no. The paper must be a trick. It’s probably a forged paper made by this man in front of you to take his advantage and trick you.

“This is forged.” You balled the paper and threw it his way. Jaehyun picked it up with bloodied fingers. His shirt was now saturated with his blood. But you could not bring yourself to care now that he poses a threat to your safety.

“Forged? Do you not recognize the lawyer who signed this paper?” He started to flatten out the paper again. “The best in town. You could go to his office right now to inquire about this. But I won’t waste money if I were you.”

For the second time that night, you snatched away the paper from him. It was completely crumpled, but the texts printed out were still glaring at you. You skimmed the printed letters with your head spinning, eyes only stopping when you see three signatures below. One for your brother, one for Jaehyun, one for the attorney. It was signed by a pen, that much you’re sure of. Being an architecture student familiarized you to different type of pens. You’re certain they had used a ballpoint pen to sign the contract.

Still, you went dumbfounded as you let the realization hit you. Your brother, Johnny, just sold your apartment for this blood soaked guy in front of you.

“Since when?” You asked through gritted teeth, not looking up from the papers.

Jaehyun let out a frustrated sigh, his hand clamping his wound. “Since last week.”

“Will you…” You sighed, it was so difficult to get the words come out, “… will you let me stay the night? I promise I’ll go first thing in the morning.” Your hand which is holding the paper shook. Mixed feelings of anger, shame, and confusion swirled in your head.

Jaehyun waved his hand before sitting on the sofa, his bloodied hands imprinting the arms of it red. You bit back the anger as you realized that you have no rights to be angry.

“You could stay the night, of course.” He reclined his head, “But stitch me up first before you go packing.”

How had he managed to stay alive with the loss of too much blood, you have no idea. But you shook your head and declined him again, “I don’t know how. You might get an infection.”

“Needle… I need a needle,” He breathed and shut his eyes, you panicked as you thought he passed out already. But then he opened his one eye and fixed it to you, “I’ll do it myself.”

“Why don’t we just go to the hospital?”

It was embarrassing that you only thought of the idea now. But Jaehyun only snorted, “Trust me, that’s the last resort you’d think of if you truly knew me.”

There is no point talking to him. His mouth pours metaphors you could not be bothered to comprehend. So you trudged the distance to the small drawer laying just below the television and grabbed the sewing kit inside.

You laid it on the table. Jaehyun groaned before grabbing the needle and the thread. He does not look pained. He looks more tired. And only when you were sitting beside him you noticed how pale he appeared to be. His lips looked wan, his face pallid.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hos—”

“No,” was his monosyllabic reply. You didn’t press any further.

Jaehyun started to insert the thread through the needle, but like his dreaded attempts to lit his cigarette earlier, his aim to get the thread through the little hole went in complete vain. “Fuck,” he muttered as the pin dropped on the floors.

“Let me.” You finally offered before picking up the needle and seizing the thread from his grasp. With your one eye shut close, you dampened the needle with your tongue before thrusting it through the hole. In a blink, you succeeded.

“Here—” You were cut off once again when Jaehyun’s body fell back on the sofa. His eyes closed. The nervous and shock kicked in your stomach as you leaned closer to him but felt nothing in his chest. He doesn’t look like he is breathing, too.

“Oh my God, don’t fucking die.” You repeated the words as you grabbed your phone and dialed nine-one-one. Sweats started to form in your forehead, your own heart beating in a panic-stricken rhythm.

The ringing stopped, and the voice of the person from the other side greeted you calmly.

“I— there’s— I—” Your words are incoherent from the panic that is vibrating from your head to your toes. The person tried to calm you down but to no avail. You inhaled and exhaled, mind blank. “I—” Then a hand grabbed your wrist. You jumped in your seat, only to see Jaehyun, wide-eyed looking at you.

“I told you, no doctors.”

“But— how— what?” How is he alive?

“I am fine. Just really need to stitch this up so I could recover easily.” Then his eyes started to lose their life again.

“Don’t! Don’t sleep! Stay awake!” You screamed at him. Jaehyun began to lose consciousness again. The forgotten thread and needle was back on your hands in an instant. Loud sets of profanities reverberated from your mouth as you lifted his shirt. You exhaled as you saw the long laceration starting from beside his navel to his waist.

“I can’t do this alone, I just can’t.” You swallowed, praying that his innards won’t slide out of his stomach. Where did he get this wound?

“You have no other choice, have you?” He whispered, voice straining. “Just close it and stitch it. I won’t scream,” he expressed.

“That’s not my problem! What if.. what if I’ll make it worse?”

“You won’t.” Jaehyun looked at you with hooded eyes.

This is not what you’ve expected to come home to. The schedule was to go home, eat, shower, and start your plates. Stitching up a long god-forsaken wound wasn’t on your to-do list.

You closed your eyes, trying to inhale and exhale. When you felt like your mind was clear of worries, you finally opened your eyes and started to hold Jaehyun’s skin. The tang of blood filled the whole room, your fingers sliding as it touched his bloodied skin. You let out a breath before clamping the open wound with your fingers, your other hand working its way to pierce the needle into his skin.

Goosebumps ran down your spine as you felt the needle pierced his flesh. White thread came out red as you pulled it to fasten his skin back together. You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand as you pushed on with your work. With each pierce and puncture, your tension and the shaking of your hands lessened.

“Are you okay?” You asked Jaehyun when you were finally in the middle of the wound. He did not utter a word ever since you started; not a protest nor a painful scream.

“Yes… it does not hurt.” His voice came out as a whisper that you doubted his answer.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“If I am in your position right now, I would’ve screamed like hell. Imagine, we didn’t use any anesthesia, but you still managed to look comfortable and calm,” you mumbled, trying to keep Jaehyun awake.

“Do you wanna know why?”

“Why?” A small chuckle resonated from your throat then. Jaehyun popped an eye open, and you waited for some dramatic lines like ‘I’m used to the pain’ to escape his lips, but his answer drew you to a sudden halt instead.

“Because I am a vampire.”

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#jung jaehyun au #jung jaehyun imagines #jung jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun au #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #nct au #nct imagines #nct fic #nct scenarios #nct 127 au #nct smut

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sweetiepie08 · 3 years

Text

Rebel Z (Chapter 10 Final)

nvader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list please let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10.

Thank you for reading! I do plan to continue the story in a sequel fic, but I may take a short hiatus first. I hope you enjoyed this!

Be on the lookout for the next book in the series, RevolutionZ! In which Zim and Tak attempt to join the Resisty and gain new companions! Dib fills his gap year by joining an alien rebellion! Gaz gets dragged in too! And what happened to Zim in Death Melee is explained!

However, I will most likely only be posting links to Ao3 than full chapters to Tumblr. Again, Thank you everyone for reading!

[-]

“So, what exactly the fuck was all that stuff with the punch about?” Dib asked once they were a comfortable distance away form the Massive.

Zim glared straight ahead at the stars. “It’s nothing that concerns you, human.”

“Bullshit!” Dib slammed his hand down on the control panel. “Your little stunt could have gotten us killed. Out with it!”

Zim gritted his teeth and gripped the steering mechanism until his knuckles quaked. Dib braced himself for the inevitable screaming denial. Instead, Zim let out a pained sigh. “Fine, if you must know, I figured out three Urth years ago that my mission was a sham and my leaders were trying to have me killed, so I took revenge. Happy?”

“We know all that,” Tak snapped. “And anyway, I told you your mission was a lie a long time ago. What I want to know is how you managed to betray the Tallest without your treasonous thoughts setting of your life clock.”

“Yeah, and who’s Spek?” Dib added.

“You wish to hear Zim’s tale of woe?” He clenched his fist and heaved out another sigh. “Fine. Three Urth years ago, the Tallest contacted me, telling me they selected me to participate in Death Melee, an inter-galactic event that all would be watching.”

“The one where they throw criminals on a planet together to fight to the death?” Tak deadpanned. “That was your first clue?”

“They told me the rules had changed and it was now a contest of elite warriors. For my partner, they gave me a Spek, a smeet just shy of his cadet years. He hadn’t even seen his first cycle yet…” Zim’s fists shook as he cut himself off.

“Since you’re still alive, I’m assuming you won,” Dib said.

“Yes, but…” his gaze fell to the floor. “Yes. Anyway, throughout the Melee, it became clear to me that the Tallest lied. This was still a game for criminals, but Spek…” Zim narrowed his haunted eyes, “he was only there to lessen my chances.”

Dib watched, mesmerized. He thought he’d seen the many moods of Zim. He’d seen everything from proud boasting, to spiteful rage, to pathetic schmooping. But this, this was something else entirely, something he never expected to see from the alien. True remorse.

“On my journey back to Urth,” he continued, “I had too much time to think and when made it back to m base, I was done with all of it.” Rage grew in his voice with every word. “I knew they lied. I knew they’d been lying. For a moment, I thought, if they didn’t want my genius, maybe someone else would. And that thought was enough to set off my life clock. Instead of simply ripping out my feedback chip, I infected it with a virus that sends the Control Brains a loop of my Urth memories, preventing it from receiving new thoughts and experiences.” A bitter, satisfied smile came to his face. “As far as I can tell, it hadn’t noticed anything was off until now.”

“And the machines I saw you building?” Dib pressed.

Zim drew himself up. “I have a contract with the Resisity. I build them machines, they appreciate my genius and send me monies.”

“And that’s what you’ve been doing for three years?” Dib asked, voice sripping with skepticism.

Zim nodded and said nothing more.

Dib stared at him, trying to get a read on this whole tale. He wasn’t sure what to believe. Zim’s reason for existence seamed to be pleasing his Tallest. The little green monster talked of nothing else since arriving on Urth. He couldn’t imagine Zim wanting anything else and he’d fallen for the schmoopy act before. But this was not schmoop. It was too subtle, too quiet. And that betrayal of his Tallest couldn’t be denied. Something had truly changed.

Dib looked to Tak to gauge her opinion, but her face revealed nothing except careful calculation.

“I’d heard the Resisty had been growing and gaining power,” she mused. “New technology granted them upsetting victories and made them more of a problem than they once were. They could be the key. We need to fight if we ever want a chance of defeating the Control Brains and freeing our people, and for that, we’ll need an army. With your connection and my information, we could pose a real threat to the Empire.”

Dib expected Zim to launch into another tirade about how he wasn’t in it for the politics. That this was all a personal mission and he had no interest in going rogue. That did not happen.

Instead, Zim said nothing for a long time. He simply stared through the windshield in tense silence. But then, a grin grew slowly on his face. “I’m in.”

[-]

When they made it back to Earth, they found that Gaz made use of MiMi and Mini Mouse as gaming companions, Dad bought her excuse that Dib was hanging out at Zim’s house, and that he hadn’t even stopped home long enough to notice the two additional robots in the living room.

Dib went straight to his room and laid out all of his recording devices. He had the notes he took the night Zim and Tak rambled drunkenly on the couch. He had the audio recording of the old man Irken that he couldn’t wait to translate. And he had the spy camera he’d been wearing to capture the whole experience. He never got so much undeniable proof on one mission before, and no one, to his knowledge, had this much evidence of this quality ever. He’d be king of the Swollen Eyeball network if he showed even a fraction of…

His eyes drifted to the Swollen Eyeball emblem pinned to his bulletin board and he let out a sigh. The Swollen Eyeball… what a joke. They’d been reduced to a bunch of anti-science conspiracy nuts. The organization became a competition to see who could shout their wildest theory the loudest. What were they compared to a real evil alien empire, a real soul-sucking, Lovecraftian horror, and a real space alien rebellion?

No. This was bigger than some crack-pot conspiracy group. This rebellion universe-shattering consequences. And he was going to be part of it.

[-]

Out in his ship, Zim stared at his PAK connector with warry eyes. He wasn’t sure what held him back now. His stunt on the Massive already solidified his traitor status, but this felt different, more official. It was one thing to enact vengeance on those who betrayed him. It was quite another to completely detach himself from society.

He’d been unwaveringly loyal to the Empire since his conception, but they didn’t want him. He’d seen that years ago. So what was he waiting for?

He disconnected the PAK from his back and ignored the lifeclock in the corner of his eye as he plugged it in. He opened the hatch, clicked a pair of tweezers in his fingers, then reached them toward his feedback chip.

At a light tug, his computer’s voice gave an automated warning.

You are attempting to remove the feedback chip. Doing so is an act of treason against the Irken Empire. Are you sure you want to proceed?

Zim closed his eyes and pulled the chip free.

[-]

Tak’s footsteps echoed as she walked across the concrete garage floor. MiMi’s metallic feet clacked beside her. Apart from that, the room was silent. She was used to silence. One grows accustomed to it when traveling alone through space. But these last few days had been anything but. And with Zim as her dubious ally, silent moments like this were certain to be few and far between.

And yet, this moment, she felt the need to fill it with something.

She popped open the windshield of her ship and hopped inside. “MiMi, my disc please.” Mimi reached into her head and took out the Urth data storage disc. Zim wasn’t the only one with a secret stash.

Tak took the disc from Mimi and placed it in a tray on the ship’s control panel. “Ship, track six please.” As she hopped out, music began to play. Smooth, jazzy horns filled the air and the singer began crooning.

Maybe this time, I’ll be lucky. Maybe this time he’ll stay…

The song was from an Urth performance art piece. The vocalist sang about some male mate. That part didn’t interest Tak in the slightest. Still, there was something about it...

Not a loser anymore, like the last time and the time before…

The song continued to play as Tak opened the engine access panel and began her work. While manipulating the many gears and wires, she found a few interesting repair methods that the human implemented over the years. Many employed the use of an Urth bonding strip called “duct tape”, which she had to admit came in handy. The human didn’t do a bad job, even if it was pretty slap-dash.

All the odds are in my favor, something’s bound to begin…

She finally untangled a mess of wires and reconnected them.

It’s gotta happen, happen sometime…

She fused together the final wire and the ship hummed to life. Fuel Regulation Systems online.

Tak smiled, “Okay Mimi, looks like we’re finally getting somewhere.” She ducked back into the access panel as the song his its crescendo.

Maybe this time I’ll win.

#invader zim fanfiction #invader zim #iz fanfiction #iz fanfic #zim #dib #tak #gaz #gir #rebel zim #rebel leader tak #zadf #sweetiepie08 #sweetiepie fanfic #sweetiepie writes #invader zim fandom

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thorne93 · 4 years

Text

The Stars Made Us (Part 7)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 2438

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong and @arrow-guy and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

~~~~~~~~~~~

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

The next morning, you were about to meet Hank after the routine you’d set up when you saw Charles make his way towards the alcohol in the study.

“No,” you said sternly, following him in and taking the bottle from him. “No alcohol before noon.”

“I beg your pardon? This is my house. You are a guest here, and if I want to drink from sun up to sun down I bloody will,” he said, anger clear in his tone and frown as his eyes raked your form.

“Just until noon,” you repeated calmly. “Surely your serum will hold out until then? Why don’t you go set up a game of chess and I’ll be in the library to meet you shortly.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to distract me,” he noted, his face a mask of humor.

“Good thing you don’t know any better,” you teased with a tight smile. “Please? I know it’s a passion of yours and I’ve always wanted to play.”

“Wait, you’ve never played chess?”

You shook your head, innocence wrapping your face and gesture. “No.”

“Why not? Hasn’t everyone?”

“I was much more of a gin rummy kind of girl,” you explained.

“Ah, I see. Not in my wheelhouse but I could give that a go,” he offered.

“I’d love to show you… So, uh, off to the library then?” you asked.

He smiled and laughed. “Yes, I suppose we are meeting in there. Five minutes?”

“Sounds perfect,” you said with a smile.

He swept around you and as soon as he was out of sight you broke out into a sprint to find Hank.

“Hey, where’d you disappear to? I’ve started on extracting the--”

“I can’t help. Not this morning.”

“What? Why not?”

“Charles was going to start drinking and the only thing I could think of to divert his attention was a game of chess so… we’re playing chess.”

His eyebrows shot up. “So while I’m in here, you’re going to be playing a game?”

“I know, I’m sorry, but you want him to get better right? Maybe it’s best he has some company with humans rather than with a glass and a needle.”

Hank’s face fell.

“I’m sorry, Hank, I know you’re doing the best you can. I just… We need to keep him focused and away from the alcohol. Think you can work on this without me?”

“Yeah, I’ll do my best,” he said, a touch of disappointment in his tone.

“Thanks, you’re the best. I’ll try to be back as fast as I can.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he sadly replied. “Just… go keep him company.”

An expression of sad sympathy colored your face. All you did was nod before dashing off to the library. Charles was sitting on the right side, a small table set up with chess as he sat there staring at the board.

You were surprised at how your heart felt every time you laid eyes on him. Even in his worst state, this man made you feel… grounded. It was as if you were walking around half-empty, then you got close to him and everything felt right with the world. Even if he was drug and alcohol dependent and a bit of an asshole, just being in his presence, everything was okay.

You walked in and sat down across from him, honestly a little nervous. Knowing this man through a screen was one thing, but sitting down across from him, it was an entirely different feeling. A different dynamic, especially since it had been a year since you’d even spoken.

How much had he changed? How had you changed? Talking every day with one person, you knew what to expect. He was in grad school, you were in residency. He was working towards teaching, you were dealing with patients. It was a no brainer. You swapped stories of graduations, accolades, promotions, and victories. What stories would you swap now? How his adopted sibling had abandoned him, his spine neglecting his ability to walk, his school ripped away from him, not a friend in the world except the two people in this mansion with him. What kind of stories would those be?

“Alright,” you started cheerily, “how do we play?”

“So you’ve really never played?” he asked with a bemused grin.

“No. I started to learn the rules once, from my uncle, but the idea of losing pieces just to win an endgame... “You shook your head. “It seems barbaric.”

He laughed gently. “There’s nothing barbaric about it. It’s a highly intellectual game that involves strategy and knowing your opponent.”

You looked up through your lashes as you glanced down at the board. “And you think you know me?”

“I’d like to think I do, after ten years.”

You made a noise of contemplation. “Hmm, I was under the impression you didn’t remember a thing about me.”

“Wanting to forget you and forgetting you are two vastly different things, Y/N.”

You smiled.

“You’ve never said my name before,” you noted quietly, your heart fluttering and warming. He might not think it was important, or nice at all, but you’d waited a very long time to hear this.

You were on a very different side of this romance. It appeared Charles wasn’t ready for it, but you were very much prepared to jump right in. Every little sentimental action he did, every little way he tilted his mouth, the way his eyes penetrated your very soul, the way his accent fell off his lips -- it was practically intoxicating. Here you were, swimming like a school girl like the night you found out you had a soulmate; yet it seemed for Charles you were just a guest to interact with, to mildly entertain.

It tore your heart asunder.

“I’m slowly learning to right some of my wrongs,” he said in a soft voice. “Alright, let’s see, so you have the pawn and the pawn can move like this, see?” he began and he took about ten minutes explaining the game to you, being very patient.

“You ready to begin?”

“Sure.”

So the two of you sat, playing chess, not saying a word for about twenty minutes, only halfway through the game.

“So, did you play this when you had your powers?” you inquired cautiously.

“Actually,” he began, making his move, taking your rook, “I did.”

“Did you use them?”

“I tried not to,” he explained, “but it’s like music playing in the background. You can pick up on things people are thinking if it’s loud, distinct, or stands out. So sometimes I would hear what they were thinking, sometimes I didn’t. I tried to ignore it.”

“How did you learn to control them?”

“Practice. Quieting them was...is… the hardest part. Once that’s done, I can do the rest easily.”

“And all the other… facets, like accessing memories, how did you learn how to do that? On a girlfriend or?”

He laughed, his eyes never leaving the board as you studied your moves as well. “Are you trying to probe to see if I had a girlfriend previous to our… relationship?”

You gave a quick half smile, filled with amusement. “I wasn’t consciously, but I suppose it slipped out. You’re avoiding the question, should I assume I’m right?”

“You know, Dr. Y/L/N, not everything or everyone has to be psychoanalyzed,” he countered teasingly.

“I know, I know. I just… I’m curious about that part of your life, that’s all.”

“For your information, I didn’t test on my girlfriend. I actually used my step-brother. When he bullied me, afterwards, I’d probe his mind. I realized I could access memories, get into his head, and learned in there. At first, it was an accident, and I couldn’t break the link… but then when we went to sleep, it broke. Later, I purposely tried to connect, disconnect, and read thoughts. Until his father died, and they moved out that is…”

“Did Raven ever meet Cain?”

“No. No, Raven came to us a few months after Cain’s father died and he moved away to live with his aunt.”

“I see. So you practiced on your abusive step brother?”

“It was all I had. Doing that to my mother felt wrong, Raven asked that I never do it to her, and with the kids at school I couldn’t tell if I was reading memories or fantasies. Your move by the way.”

“Oh, yes, right,” you said, snapping out of your sympathy induced trance. You made an arbitrary move before getting back to the conversation. “So no girlfriend?”

“Like a dog with a bone,” he muttered.

“I prefer the term persistent.”

“No, no girlfriend in the picture. Not for some time. I dated briefly, just after Harvard.”

“So… when you were seventeen?”

“Mhm. She was an undergrad. She wasn’t very mature though, so it was over before it began. I knew I wouldn’t find anyone on my level. I couldn’t even legally buy cigarettes but I had graduated college, so… the odds of me finding anyone worthy of my time were slim. Of course, that was before your scribbling showed up on my arm.”

“That wasn’t scribbling,” you accused with a laugh, fake offense in your tone. “I put a lot of time, thought, and effort into that, thank you.”

“If that’s your example of a lot of time and effort then maybe I still haven’t met my intellectual match, hmm?” he joked.

You narrowed your eyes before taking his bishop.

“Maybe you spoke too soon,” you challenged as he glanced up at you and you raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps I did. And you?”

“What about me?”

“Did you have a highschool sweetheart before you knew about me?”

“Oh, well… I don’t really see how it’s relevant--”

“Double standard, Y/N. That isn’t very nice. I was probed about my entire romantic career but I can’t get so much as a--”

“Fine. Yes. I dated. Two guys in high school. One lasted about eight months from January of sophomore year to the beginning of junior year.”

“And the second?”

“Four months of junior year.”

“No one dazzled you senior year?”

“Just you,” you hummed, not thinking before you answered.

“Oh, just me?” he asked, catching your little slip up.

Your cheeks heated before you smiled. “Yes, if I’m being totally honest.”

He was looking at you, curiosity and merriment burning in his face. He’d only glanced at you three times during this whole game. In a way, you were thankful. When he gave you a direct look you felt like you always had to overshare. When he was looking down at the board you could focus on answering carefully, filtering. When he was staring at you, it was like truth serum.

“So what happened with the other two?” he questioned as his attention drifted back down to the board.

“One was determined that I follow him, you know, go to the college he had his eye on, despite what I wanted. So we parted ways.” You made a move. “And the other liked a friend of mine more so we mutually ended things.”

“Sounds like you haven’t had any bad luck with men, so that’s good.”

“Sounds like you haven't had any luck with women. One woman throughout your whole life? You’re thirty-two.”

“Yes, so?”

“Well, if you only dated at seventeen--”

“Y/N, I met you, my soulmate, at twenty-one. I didn’t date after that, so, most of my life, has been with you… Romantically, that is, if that’s what you want to call this.”

“You swore off dating for me?”

“Of course,” he said as if it were obvious, “didn’t you do the same for me?”

“Yeah without question.”

“So why do you find it odd that I did the same?”

“Well,” you started, nervously wringing your hands, “you’re you, you know? Handsome, accomplished, driven, confident.”

“And you’re just a wet rag? Or what am I missing? You’re all those things as well, except handsome. I’d choose a different word.”

“And what word might that be?”

“Nothing short of stunning.”

His words made you blush quickly and smile to yourself.

“So tell me, why did you commit to us but were worried I didn’t?” he wondered.

“You just have so much more going for you than I do.”

“That’s not true. I know quite a bit about you and you’re quite the catch. Not to mention, I’m not like that. I was dedicated to you the moment we encountered each other.”

“I’m glad to know you felt the same about this.”

“Of course,” he concurred before the two of you finished the game, with him beating you easily.

“Ugh, see that’s why I don’t like that vile game.”

He chuckled. “It’s a fantastic game. You did quite well for your first time. I bet you’ll beat me next time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, loudly. “Not likely.”

“You should believe in yourself more.”

“I believe in myself plenty, except when it comes to strategy games.”

“But you play gin rummy?”

“Well that’s entirely different,” you assured with a smile as the two of you cleared the chess game.

“Is it now? Well let’s just see. I’ve got some cards in my desk drawer there. Show me how to play and we’ll see if it’s all that different.”

“Okay, sure. You got to show your prowess, I’ll show you mine.”

“There’s that feistiness I missed,” he cheered as you got up and got the cards, his words making you stop for half a second.

So he did miss you...

“Okay, so the game is easy, especially compared to that mini war game we just played,” you joked and he smiled. Knowing you could do that to him lit you up inside.

You explained the game, all the rules and played. He caught on quickly, which didn’t surprise you - he was practically a genius. What did surprise you however, was that he beat you at your own game.

“How the hell did you--?” you started, flabbergasted, staring down at the table.

“All strategy games are the same, Y/N. I’ve been playing them for a while.”

“But this is my game and you, you just beat me.”

“Oh, don’t be a sore loser. You’ll do fine next time.”

“I should’ve done fine this time,” you mumbled. “Well I need to get dinner made, so I’ll be off. See you for dinner?”

He nodded and smiled and you left, reflecting on the good bit of information you’d learned that day. And focusing on how this might not be as bad as you thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forever Tag:

@essie1876

@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

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@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@superwholocked527

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Charles Xavier

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#the stars made us #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier fic #charles xavier #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange fic #stephen strange #hank mccoy

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welcometophu · 3 years

Text

The Meaning of Home, Chapter 1

The Meaning of Home Chapter 1

Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.

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Even knowing that he’ll see him at the end of the trip, it’s strange for Pawel to be driving to his childhood home without Conor in the car. Usually his son would be requesting music changes, playing videos so loud that Pawel could hear them even with Conor’s headphones in place, or generally talking up a storm. Even after cranking the radio up to fill the silence, Pawel feels alone in a way he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

He can’t blame it entirely on Conor. Yes, as a single father he hasn’t had much, if any, time to himself in the last nine years. But this past academic year has been chaos to the point where it seems strange not to have one of his students in the car as they head off to save the world.

Students, yes, but he’s not that much older than most of them. Some of them are friends as well.

Rest. Take the summer and rest.

The voice in his mind sounds suspiciously like Mac, and he hears Carolyn’s soft, aggravated huff not long after as she adds, Get normal amounts of sleep. Take a shower. Eat real food.

Spend time with your kid, imaginary Mac adds.

Great. He’s back to being that only child who used to have conversations with invisible friends, except now, as an adult, it’s advice about self-care from real people who aren’t even here.

The thing is, they’re not wrong. He knows he has a tendency to focus intently on the one most important thing at hand and tune out everything else. Since fall semester—for the first time in nine years—that wasn’t Conor, and he still feels guilty about that. He feels the kind of guilty that means there are two brand new games for Conor’s handheld system in a bag on the back seat, along with a cooler holding freshly butchered grass-fed bison steaks as a thank you for his father for helping him out.

Pawel exhales.

Maybe he’s having a little trouble letting go of the chaos. In a way, it felt good to be busy. To fix things.

They saved the world.

Nobody knows it, but it happened. And Pawel knows, so he should be satisfied with a job well-done.

The question is: what can he do now?

Rest.

For all that they’re imaginary, the voices of his students are right, and he knows this. It’s just hard to let it all go, to accept that the chaos has ended and he can do that. But he’s clean-shaven, and his hair is neatly trimmed, even if he didn’t go back to his buzz cut. He looks older in the mirror than he remembers being when the school year began. He might even look his age, which would go a long way to gaining respect from incoming freshmen in the fall.

He just needs something to do with himself while on vacation over the summer.

Maybe his old dojang would let him step into a taekwondo class or two while he’s visiting Dad. It’d be nice to be the student rather than the instructor for once.

You couldn’t let go of control that much.

“Shut up.” He says it as if imaginary Mac would even listen.

One song ends, and for a second, the silence in the car echoes before the next song begins.

This isn’t working.

He reaches out to touch the button on his radio dash for the phone, then presses Mac’s number from his contact list.

“Aren’t you with your family?” She starts speaking without bothering to greet him.

He adjusts the volume so that her voice isn’t quite so loud. “Hello to you, too. I’m almost there now. It’s quiet in the car. No Conor. Not even any grouchy almost adults grumbling about saving the world, or muttering about sparring.”

Mac snorts softly. “I’m only a few years younger than you, Pawel. And out of us all, Rory’s probably got the oldest soul. I take it you’re bored?”

“A little,” he admits. “Pels’s family moved into the house on Friday, then left for Burlington. As far as I know, everything’s gone well up there; they weren’t back before I left the house today. Anita’s got my number in case she needs anything for the house while they’re renting it out this summer. Traffic’s been decent, so I’m maybe fifteen minutes from my Dad’s house now, and the silence is killing me. How’s your summer break going?”

There’s a delay before Mac replies, and her voice sounds determinedly cheerful when she does. “It’s a break. I’m thinking about my research, and the fact that my advisor is in Italy until the end of June and told me I can’t work without him there. Which means Mom thought I should come home for a while, and right now things are… awkward… with me and Dad. So. There’s that.”

When Mac says it, Dad means Senator Delwin Palmer. Pawel knows what that meant to Mac as a part of a secret government training program for Talented children, before she came to PHU. He knows that everything they learned about the government involvement in the creation of the soul-destroying Shadows has only made her relationship with her stepfather more difficult.

He makes a small noise. “Are you going back to PHU soon?”

“Mid June, so I’ll be here about three weeks. I’m going to take my brother to the festival when Rory and Thorne are in DC in a couple of weeks, and I’m spending most of my time in the museums and libraries in DC until then.” She exhales. “I’ve thought about going to see my father, but I think that’ll be the weekend that I drive back up to PHU. I’ll just stop in to visit him in the city while he’s got some time off work.” Mac hesitates, her words more forceful when she asks, “How long are you planning on staying with your dad?”

Fine, Pawel will accept the change of topic, changing conversational directions at the same time as he takes the exit into town that will lead to his childhood home.

Sort of. It’s not the same house he grew up in, but it’s close to the same neighborhood.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m on leave for the summer. It’s not a sabbatical—they don’t do that for less than a year, and right now they won’t let me go for a whole year until the department has more experienced faculty. But it’s a paid leave and I’m supposedly researching my next book. The thing is, Dad doesn’t have a lot of space since he moved into the retirement community. I’m going to be crashing on his couch. Conor’s got the bed in the guest room.”

“Sounds great for your back.” Mac laughs. “You’ll probably still sleep better than you did for most of the spring.”

“Probably,” Pawel agrees. “I think—” He stops abruptly, because that makes it sound like he has a plan in place. “I’m going to play it by ear. Conor’s made friends there, although he’s clearly missing Alan and home, too. Everyone keeps telling me that I need to just stop trying to fix things and take a break. Including a voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like you.”

“Good to know my voice has infected your brain, like the way I hear yours saying ‘commit to the kick’ whenever I’m sparring and going for that head kick against a much taller opponent,” Mac says dryly.

“They’re all taller than you.” Pawel takes a series of turns, remembering to turn left instead of right at the critical intersection. He slows down; there’s no one else on the road behind him to annoy, and he’s not quite ready to arrive yet.

Mac sputters. “Rude.”

“True.”

“Fine. True,” she agrees. “Taekwondo is a sport for tall people. I’m just a good jumper, and before you say it, no, I’m not teleporting to get there. Most of the time.”

He rolls down the road towards a four-way stop. There’s a sign across the way proclaiming the entrance to Hart Acres. If he turned left, he could make his way to the police station where his dad works, and right would loop him back behind his old neighborhood.

Straight takes him into his dad’s new life in a retirement village where half the people who live there aren’t actually retired. His dad’s been living there for a year, and Pawel’s not sure when he’ll finally step down as Police Chief. He likes his work far too much to give it up.

Dad says it’s easier to keep working when he doesn’t have to worry about the little things like mowing the lawn. Hart Acres takes care of that for him.

Pawel’s pretty sure Dad’s going to work until he has both feet in the grave, and then he might just keep going.

“Hey.” Mac’s voice is low. “Did I lose you?”

Right. He was having a conversation.

“I’m just about there,” Pawel admits. “There’s an old lady walking her fluffy dog down the street. I guess I should hang up. Focus on finding the place and not hitting the two people that are in the middle of the road having a conversation.”

No exaggeration. Now that he’s pulled into Hart Acres and is following the first traffic circle he encounters around to the second exit, there are small knots of people gathered everywhere. Including two smack dab in the middle of one of the side streets.

They see him looking and lift their hands in cheerful synchronized waves.

“I am really not ready to see my dad as the kind of guy who needs to be surrounded by old people looking for a social life,” Pawel mutters. He makes a disgruntled noise when Mac snickers.

He’s in front of the house before he can say anything else.

“Go,” Mac says. “Hug Conor for me, and tell him to work hard. He’s still in school, right?”

“Another three weeks, yeah,” Pawel says. “I might take him out for a day on Friday to head up to Buffalo for Rory and Thorne’s tour, though. It’s a holiday weekend, so maybe the school has the day off—they do weird things with snow days sometimes. Although the weather was strange this winter and they might not have the extra days.”

“Nikki would apologize if you need her to,” Mac says. She’s quiet for a moment. “Hey. You really should take the time to rest. Let your dad be the parent for a little while. Enjoy being home, and with your family. You don’t have anything you need to save right now. The world isn’t ending. Just have fun for the summer.”

“Only if you promise me that you’ll rest, too,” he responds. He wants to say that he understands that it’s not that easy. He understands that talking to Delwin Palmer is going to be complicated, and that putting herself back in that environment only brings the PTSD out in full force. “You can always call me if you need someone to talk to.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m back in the area,” she says. “Maybe we can get together and spar. I’m taking a break from organized classes while I’m home.”

Her old dojang isn’t full of happy memories like Pawel’s is.

“Sure, we can do that.” He catches movement out of the corner of his eye; the door to his father’s unit nudges open. “Conor’s coming out. I need to go.”

“Bye, Pawel. Rest.”

“I will,” he promises.

The music blares for a moment after she hangs up; he turns the key and silences it. He manages to get out of the car as Conor races around it and slams into him, hugging him hard. Pawel wraps his arms around him, and exhales as he feels the familiar crackle of Conor’s magic around him.

“I missed you,” Pawel murmurs. His hand is between Conor’s shoulder-blades, and it feels higher than it used to rest in this same position. “Did you grow in the last two months?”

“An inch since he arrived.” Dad stands on the lawn next to a girl about Conor’s age that Pawel doesn’t recognize. Her mouth is pinched and her brows furrowed. She has her arms crossed tight across her chest as she leans forward, a myriad of braids falling forward across her shoulders and down her back. Dad puts a hand on her shoulder, and she straightens up, shoulders relaxing. “I started a growth door for him here. We’ll need to get a mark on it for you so he can see what he’s aiming for.”

There was a piece of trim in Pawel’s childhood house that had marks for every few months of his age, from toddlerhood to adulthood. He wonders if the new owners painted over the careful notes made in his mother’s hand, and the messier ones his father wrote after she passed away.

“I had Dziadziu put Emma on the door, too.” Conor slips from Pawel’s hold and grabs his hand, dragging him towards Dad and the girl who still watches warily. “This is Emma. She’s in my class, and she’s a Weather Witch, and she’s my friend. We’re both new here. She’s talked to Alan with me.”

“I know they’re married,” Emma says with a heavy sigh and an eyeroll. “Conor’s not my boyfriend. I don’t want a boyfriend.”

“You say that like people have been trying to tell you that you can’t be friends because you’re a boy and a girl.” Pawel stops in front of her and holds out his hand solemnly. “Hello, Emma. I’m Pawel. And don’t worry, I understand that most people are full of shit. Right now my best friend is a girl and I can assure you I have no romantic intentions towards her whatsoever. And if I did, she might kick me in the balls.”

Dad makes a strangled sound.

Emma tilts her head, brow still furrowed. “I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t say that people are full of shit.” She takes his hand and looks at their joined hands in some confusion, then drops it again. “But you’re right. They are. Come on, Conor.”

“I think you’d like Mac,” Conor says as he walks by Emma’s side and they disappear into the house. “She’s small but fierce. She used to be a gymnast and now she kicks ass.”

Pawel should say something, but he did just tell them that people are full of shit, so maybe he can cut him some slack for language this time.

“I did say that someday you’d be lucky enough to have a kid just like you,” Dad observes. “That said, Conor’s been a good kid while he’s been here. Getting good grades, getting his work done. He and Emma bonded straight off—her parents disappeared not long before you did, so they had something in common. Except, of course, you’re back and they’re not. She’s living with a foster family here.”

There are a dozen potential things wrong with everything Dad’s just said. Pawel rolls the thoughts around in his mind as he heads back to his car, opening the doors so that he and Dad can both take several things into the house. “Do they know she’s Talented?” he asks.

“You know where the guest room is.” Dad points through the living room and kitchenette to the small hall beyond. “Right at the end there. Just take Conor’s stuff down. We’ll put your things to the side in the living room for now.”

Conor pops his head out of his room just as Pawel arrives. “What do you mean for now? Aren’t we staying all summer? I thought we’d stay here all summer, Dad. Dziadziu said we could.”

There are times when Pawel wonders what their family looks like from the outside: three generations having three separate conversations in tangled instances, answering questions in random order. He can see where Emma sits on the bed, Conor’s tablet in her hands. She doesn’t seem concerned.

“I’m sleeping on the couch, Conor. We’ll stay in town, but we might need to get a hotel room. I’m going to need a bed eventually,” Pawel points out.

“I’ll move in with Emma. Her dads wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t think they’d even notice,” Emma says dryly. “I like Conor better than Matt.”

“She has four foster siblings,” Conor stage whispers.

Emma looks up, gaze pinning him. “They aren’t my siblings. I’m an only child. We’re all just fosters in the same house, except Nevaeh and Jennie. I think they’re almost as good as adopted. Jennie doesn’t even remember her parents.”

For once, Pawel is the one getting whiplash from the swift turns in conversation.

“Is everyone Talented?” It’s the same question, asked a different way, and this time he throws it out there for anyone to answer. He drops the bag of Conor’s summer clothes on the bed, next to where Emma sits.

“Her dads are both Talented!” Conor bounces up onto the bed, almost knocking the suitcase off. “One’s Clan and one’s—”

“They aren’t my dads,” Emma snaps. She drops Conor’s tablet on the bed and stands up, her body shivering so hard that her braids shake. “My mom and dad are coming back. They aren’t my dads at all. I’m just staying there until—”

“My dad can find them.”

Emma’s mouth is slightly open, her voice a small squeak. “What?”

“My dad is really good at everything about Talented people. He’s an expert.” Conor nods quickly. “He’s so much an expert that he teaches people not to be stupid—uninformed,” he corrects himself, “about what it means to be Talented. He knows everything.”

“Not everything,” Pawel tries to stay, but Conor steamrolls over him.

“He just saved the world, and he’s friends with Clan and with Mages, and we know this entire commune of Mages up in Burlington and if anyone can find your parents, he can,” Conor says firmly. “You’ll do it, Dad, right?”

“I think I’d need a little more information before I can promise that,” Pawel says slowly.

“Your father is supposed to be resting.” Dad stands behind him, and Pawel doesn’t need to turn to know the look Dad gives Conor. He was on the receiving end of that look himself many times as a child. Dad continues, “The last time your father got involved in something, he disappeared and you came here.”

Conor’s mouth snaps shut, lips pressed and his cheeks flushed. “He came back,” he mutters. “He always comes back.”

Emma pats the bed and when Conor sits, she puts her arms around him and holds on. “Maybe mine will come back, just like yours did. Then your dad won’t have to go find them.” Her whisper is too loud to be entirely secret. “I don’t want your dad to disappear again.”

“Me neither,” Conor admits.

“Emma.”

“Dziadziu!” Conor interrupts him. “Did you ask Emma’s dads—”

“They’re not my dads.”

“—if she can stay over tonight?” The sadness is gone from Conor’s expression as he bounces on the bed. “She’s got stuff in a drawer from the last time she stayed. She can get on the bus with me in the morning, and we can play games with Alan online later.” His gaze skates to Pawel. “If you say it’s okay, of course.”

It’s only been a couple of months, and Conor has somehow built himself a routine here. Pawel isn’t entirely sure how he fits into it.

It’s strange thinking about Conor growing up and growing apart from Pawel when his son is only nine years old.

“I talked to them,” Dad assures them. “But that means sleep tonight. It’s a school night, and I’ll be checking. No magic after dark. No surprise storms. No more rain indoors.”

“That was once!” Conor protests.

“Lights out by half past eight, and I want you asleep by nine,” Dad says in a tone that brooks no argument. “You’ve got plenty of time before then; we haven’t even had dinner yet. You might even be sick of each other by then.”

“Never!” Conor and Emma chorus.

Pawel has to wait for Dad to move before they can both slip out of the room, leaving the door cracked. “I’m glad he’s made friends here,” Pawel says quietly. “He and Alan are—well, I’d almost call them codependent sometimes. I was worried. But they both seem to be doing well.”

“Conor’s fallen on his feet, that’s for sure. He’s a lot like another child I once knew: just starts talking until he finds his spot to fit in. Might even have a bit of a savior complex.”

Pawel gives his father a dark look. “I do not have a savior complex. If I did, I’d have followed you into law enforcement, rather than going into academia.”

Dad smiles. “You’re still saving people. You just go about it in a different way on a daily basis. But it seems to me like you didn’t even hesitate when you found out your students needed your help. You can’t resist a puzzle.”

“Apple didn’t fall far from the tree, I get it,” Pawel mutters. “Fine, fine. We’re all peas in a pod, and a hundred other trite descriptive phrases. The Szczek men have similar traits.”

“Mm.” Dad leads the way outside, so they can retrieve the last few things from Pawel’s car. “Some of us have learned how to ask for help,” he says quietly. “Conor’s made himself at home in Emma’s foster house. He’s spent more than a few nights there, and yes, before you ask, I trust her foster fathers completely. One of them works with me. But that’s something you might want to think about this summer, Pawel.”

Pawel shoulders the backpack with his computer in it, and closes the door to his car. “What’s that, Dad?”

“You don’t have to do everything on your own,” Dad reminds him. “For the summer, you’ve got me. Think about what to do when you get home. The fate of the world doesn’t need to rest on your shoulders alone.”

It seems like everyone’s got something to say about his bad habits. The thing is, Pawel’s got help at home. He’s a single father; he knows he needs assistance sometimes. He’s got Alan’s family next door. Emily’s always willing to help out with Conor. But he’s also got… a lot of responsibility. He’s a professor, and a dean, and he leads Coven and the taekwondo team.

Who the hell else is he going to rely on? Pawel does the things no one else is available to do.

“Don’t worry, Dad,” he says, because he knows it’s what Dad needs to hear. “I’m not going to overwork myself again. I’ll make sure I’ve got help.”

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queerchoicesblog · 3 years

Text

The Movie Party (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series, Ch. 17)

So, folks, the SC Titanic Zetta x Adele Series has come to an end: this is the final chapter. It’s time for Zetta and Adele to have a reunion at last.

I want to thank all those who supported this crazy project of mine. This series has been quite important and will somehow still be, even if the original story is no longer available and it’s the end. But I will be grateful to the authors who crafted it: it was one of the few times I felt truly seen as represented as a wlw in a game.

You must forgive me if this chapter will be a bit longer but I wanted to bid a farewell to the various characters who made this story one hard to forget. It’s the finale: you either go big or go home, right? And you will find the explanation of the title of the series, if you haven’t figured it out already...

Little disclaimer-favor: especially since the tags don’t seem to be working anymore, if you do enjoy it, please consider supporting the author & sharing this. A little gesture that means a lot!

Stay tuned next week for the Epilogue!

Zetta x Adele Tag: @storyscaped @storyscapefanficarchive @marmolady @animus-and-anima @hayley-carter19 @escako @everlastingchoices @indescribablechoices @ahrielstuff @bornonawdnsday @nazario-sayeed @h-doodles @adele-serda @marlcasters @brightpinkpeppercorn @michelleconnoly @charliejane-blog @ghost-of-yuri @choicesgremlin @lanzhansguqin @orange-elephants @wonder-falcon

Zetta x Adele Series Tag: @eternal-langdon @nydeiri

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15 , Ch. 16

___________________________

The night of the Surviving the Titanic premiere, I walk into the venue at the arm of Richard, my little Napoleon in tow, 'fashionably late' as my fiancé puts it. We are greeted by the flash powder and shouts of the reporters and the awe of the guests gathered in the dashing foyer, waiting in line to show a steward their invitation. I wave at them, smiling and searching the crowd, while Richard tips his hat. Sadly, I do not see any familiar face or I don't recognise any before we walk past them and disappear behind the red velvet curtains of the auditorium. Another steward takes care of our coats while a colleague leads us to the honorary seats reserved for us and the rest of the crew.

We seat and wait. To keep my mind busy, I fix Richard's bow tie leaning to the side. I chat a bit with Sabine and compliment her outfit once again: I'm touched she decided to wear the pearl headband I gifted her when I made it into the movie industry. A birthday gift: she kept repeating she couldn't accept a gift like that but eventually I prevailed. Seeing it again after all those years...I'm so grateful she didn't listen to me and refused to bring it with her on our trip to Europe: "I'd rather not, Madam: I don't think I will have occasion to wear it", she said. I'm incredibly happy she deemed this night a right occasion. I'm so used to see her in her maid uniform that I forgot how she looks in an evening gown and the little detail makes her look like the friend she is to me. I'm pretty happy and proud of my outfit too. I picked it myself: I knew exactly what I wanted when I commissioned it to a New York fashion designer à la mode. I don't usually wear black, I much prefer colors, but lately I've been reconciling with it. And it seemed appropriate for the night: black is the color of mourning, right? What is tonight, this movie if not a commemoration of all those who aren't with us tonight, all those who sacrificed their lives for people like me and all the other survivors we managed to trace back, gathered here tonight? I'm not naive enough to ignore there is more to it, something less poetic, but I hold onto the remembrance of the lives lost. Onto that night: I hope the meaning of my sapphire necklace, the same one I wore on my birthday night, is not lost to those who were there. A hand on my shoulder, a gentle touch. As my heart races a bit faster I turn...but no, it's only my colleague, my fictional sister greeting me at the arm of John, Richard's right hand. I kiss her cheeks and invite the two of them to join us. She is visibly excited when she announces that the foyer is packed: she had never seen a crowd like that. It's a delight to hear but I can only hope in that crowd are a few familiar faces I long to see. One dear face I desperately long to see. One last time, at least if that's what it must be but I need to see her, to make amends and tell her the truth. She must know: I owe her that. When the stewards eventually open the velvet curtains, the auditorium fills fast, women in fur stoles and men in tuxedo swarm in like bees, chatting lively as they take a seat. I stretch my neck to see if I can find her face but my eyes only meet tycoons, socialite and strangers. Is that man over there checking the night programme Felix? I certainly hope so: if he's here, Lawrence must be too. And God knows how I need him tonight. After what feels like an eternity, it's time. The premiere begins. "Here goes nothing" Richard sighs, taking my hand into his as they dim off the lights. I wish I could have spotted Adele before darkness fall on the auditorium and the projector starts crackling. Apparently, uncertainty must torture me a bit longer.

As story unfolds on screen, I hear the audience hold their breath in awe and fear and for a moment I am reminded why I love my job: to give people feelings, to make them live lives they would never live even if for a fleeting moment. Their wonder, their tears of sorrow and joy are the best reward, the only reward I look for, even more important than the generous checks I receive for my performances: it makes me feel alive, it makes me believe that for a moment our hearts beat at unison and we're connected. When my character and her sister hug in the lifeboat and watch the sinking ship, the muffled sounds and sniffling around me tell me that no matter how hard performing that scene was, the message got trough. I am incredibly happy about this.

After the screening and a round of thunderous applauses, stewards lead us to the theater lobby. I have a look around while reporters and guests join us. Richard insisted to take care of the decorations and the whole movie party himself...well, with his staff: he claimed that he had asked of me too much already and he was happy to help and give Sabine a few days off. My little Napoleon was taken aback by the decision: she has always supervised every party, every mundane event. I look at her and I have to stifle a laugh at her unimpressed face. She's right: just like the picture, the decorations aren't grand enough, not luxurious enough and I have no doubt she would have done so much better than this. There isn't even music... I hear the clinking sound of camera and flash powder igniting and before I know it, a bunch of reporters are taking pictures. I put on my best smile and pose with Richard. When he agrees we offered enough coverage of the events for the moment, he guides me away from them towards a waiter in high uniform offering champagne glasses. He hands me one and takes one for himself. "To our success, to our night" he smiles, rising his glass. I repeat his toast and we cling glasses. I have just tasted the cold alcoholic sweetness of it that guests approach us. I do my best to be polite and charming: I know it's my duty even if it distracts me from my most important search for my love. Is she even here? Maybe she just tossed my invitation into the fireplace after my disappearance...oh, no, I don't wanna picture such thing! And I know it's selfish of me, maybe even my note was selfish...it probably would make things easier for her if I disappeared and let her live her life, if I let her forget me soon. Strip away the memory of the time we shared together like a band-aid. Maybe even engaging romantically with her was selfish of me in my situation...oh, I'm tormenting myself again! Focus, Zetta, focus! The guests profusely compliment and comments are awfully predictable: the jewelled wife of a well known mogul dramatically claims that the picture was "a true masterpiece" and she totally felt "as if she was there too that night". A young socialite nods and echoes her words: is she her daughter? I flash them a smile and say I am overjoyed to hear so, it was the effect we were hoping for. I am stuck into conversations like these until the party is in full swing. My head almost hurt at the insane amount of stale nonsense I hear: maybe Lawrence was right when he once said that the problem with fiction is that the audience hardly takes it as such and cannot distinguish between documentary and fictional movies. They will go to bed tonight truly convinced they know what we survivors felt that night, they will tell friends encouraging them to go see the picture (hopefully) but the truth is...they know nothing. They have no idea how terrifying it was, how gruesome. They have no idea what suddenly not knowing if you or your dear ones will see another dawn or hearing gunshots and screams of terror all around you feel. It's like ice flowing into your veins instead of blood, a clutching fear I will never forget. Their heart would have broken in a thousand pieces too hearing the despair in the voices of the poor souls swimming in the frozen water begging for a help that never came. Maybe this picture was a mistake after all, I don't know. I keep jumping from one conversation to another, peering across the crowd gathered on the balcony and below but I cannot spot anyone I know. Instead, a young man out of the blue asks me news of James: they're acquaintances and he was hoping to meet him here tonight. I sense Richard tensing up at my side as he sinks his glass of champagne. He was on the ship too, the young man continues, is he alright. I have no idea if the rumor of what happened at my birthday party has spread or if it faded away after the tragedy so I offer him a quick smile. I conceal how his reminding me of my fallen little prince is making my wound bleed again. James is fine as far as I know - I tell him - but sadly couldn't make it tonight, a previous engagement he couldn't postpone. My merciful lie seems to be enough for him as he tips his hat and asks me to bring him his greetings. As we part from them, I excuse myself and head away from the crowd "to fix my hair and rouge". Thankfully, Richard understands. He takes my glasses and places a quick kiss on my temple, whispering that it's alright, he will cover for me. He winks at me before greeting a colleague. I make a beeline for the restroom to catch some breath: I'm starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by this party but I must be patient, this night is nowhere close to be over soon. I take a deep breath, one last check and return to the lobby.

At the corner of my eye, I finally notice a familiar couple quietly having a drink in a defiled spot by the railing. Friendly faces, at last! I call their names and they turn. "Here's the belle of the ball!" Lawrence exclaims, approaching. He is charming as usual: he takes my hand and gallantly raised to his lips, smiling. He still looks tired and older than he actually is. I pull him into a quick hug. "You came, you old dog!" I joke, making him laugh. "And you too!" I wink at Felix who blushes slightly. When we part, I throw the two of them a look that - I hope - will convey my deep affection more than my words can. "I am incredibly happy you are here tonight" I smile softly. "We were incredibly happy to receive your invitation to the party, dear Zetta" Lawrence twists my words with his kindness. I take a look at him and flash him a sheepish smile. "You hated it, I know" He sighs before laughing, a gentle laugh. I speak again before he can formulate an excuse. "I can only hope I made up for it. My performance at least, the champagne..." "You were magnificent, Zetta. As usual" His smile is genuine, affectionate. Sweet dear Lawrence... "Tell you what, I had to give the gentleman here my handkerchief in the finale" he adds, a playful yet equally affectionate smile on his lips, nodding to his companion. Felix sighs, shaking his head. He cannot refrain a smile. I laugh and hug him. "That is such a great compliment, thank you, darling!" He's always been a big fan of me, he notes and Lawrence is quick to confirm it. We share a long look, quiet, safely away from the loud crowd. When will I see the two of them again? "Lots of people here tonight" Lawrence comments, after a moment, his blue eyes roaming the lobby packed with guests. "Yeah..." I sigh. "Yet you are the first friendly faces I bump into tonight. Well, apart from Sabine. Can you believe it?". I'm not surprised that he understands the unsaid. I'm relieved, actually: concealing my vulnerability but not to the point a man like him cannot sense it, underneath my words. He shares a quick look with Felix before reaching for my hand and giving it an encouraging squeeze. "Maybe it's just because you got stuck with those socialites in high hats and furs and embarrassingly expensive jewels" He winks at me and I laugh, a liberating laugh I needed so much. "Maybe" I concede before adding, hesitant. "I don't even know what I should hope for, Lawrence". He considers my words and when his eyes meet mine again, I don't want to let go of his hand. I want to hold onto him. "The night is not over, right?". I smile weakly at him: he's right but I have no idea if it's a good thing or not. Maybe it will only mean my agony is far from ending anytime soon. He seems to be reading my own thoughts. "Chin up, dear Zetta. And if you need us, we will be downstairs. Just say the word" Sometimes I wonder what I did good to have a man like him being so kind and thoughtful with me. I nod and try to recollect myself. I wish I could stay with them a bit longer but I see reporters approaching and a proper host cannot disappear forever. Sadly I must go, they know it. After one last lingering look, I take my leave. Evading the reporters is a lost war, so I surrender and pose again. How many pictures do they need, goddammit? Oh boy, this flock of vultures wants statements too. Fine, I know what to say. Marvel at how many people gather here tonight, tell how important this movie is to you, how you hope it will help bring along the memory of the tragedy...and start over. Then, with nonchalance and a charming, unreadable smile, walk away. Thank God, it works. I look for Richard or Sabine but they are both nowhere in sight. I shake hands with a couple of New York socialites when I hear a voice behind me calling my name, quietly almost shyly. I turn and see a young woman in a floral dress, red hair in elegant waves and big green eyes looking at me in awe. "Miss Serda, I just wanted to thank you for your invitation and say how flawless your performance was tonight". I flash her a smile. Have we met already? I cannot tell... "Did you enjoy the picture?" "Yes, quite a lot! Even if it's not the same, of course..." she lowers her eyes as if ashamed to anger me with such an undeniable truth. "Were you on the ship?" I inquiry, in my most reassuring voice. "Yes" she nods. "I was..." she pauses before shaking her head, a brighter smile relaxing her face. "Actually I was Adele's cabinmate. Your secretary's cabinmate, I mean". I gape and take a better look at the redhead in front of me. But of course! I saw her on the deck with a Adele as we were playing shuffleboard with the Baron. I tell her so, hoping to make her happy. It works, apparently: she looks pleasantly surprised I remember her. "You're...Clorinda!" I exclaim, reminiscing Lucille's words at our dinner, when she recognised Adele's dress as one of her own creation, a gift to her favourite model. She laughs, but her laugh is weak. "I was Clorinda, yes". "Lucille sang your praises during our journey" I smile. "Will I see you soon at her upcoming show?". "I'm afraid not, Miss Serda" her lips twist in a pained smile. "I no longer work for Mrs Duff-Gordon". Seeing my surprised face, she continues.

"I had an accident during the sinking. I am no longer suited to work as a mannequin" she explains, quickly lowering her eyes before meeting mine again and adding, cheerfully: "But it's alright. I am here, I am alive and I am in America...it's all that matters, right?". We smile weakly at each other for a moment. I feel sorry for this girl even if she seems stronger than she looks. "Adele talked of you" I tell her and I'm glad to see the mix of surprise and excitement on her face. "You're the big fan of mine who kindly borrowed the posters and memorabilia for my birthday party at the Cafe Parisien. Seeing the old and new posters, reading the little notes you wrote...it meant so much to me, truly. I have never had a chance to thank you properly but I will always remember your kindness to me". A hint of red spreads over her cheeks as she smiles a big bright smile. "Oh, it was nothing, Miss Zetta...I was honoured to give my humble contribution to your birthday. If it made you happy, I'm happy, overjoyed!". I laugh softly at her contagious enthusiasm. Adele told me it was quite endearing and she was right. Her cabinmate speaks again, still gleaming but recovering the initial shyness. "Miss Serda, I was wondering if I could...well, if I could get your autograph? I was hoping to ask you during the crossing but then.." "But of course!" I smile and beckon a steward over. When he's back with a promotional picture and a pen, I look back at my fan. "What name should I write?" "Oh, Lena. Lena Montague but Lena is just perfect". I write my dedication and hand it to her. She takes a step forward, limping a little, and I get a glimpse of her wooden leg as she looks down at the picture with reverence. "There, for you. And your new collection, maybe" I wink.

She thanks me but I insist that it's my line. And a sudden idea crosses my mind. "Thank you for coming, Miss Montague. I am glad I got a chance to make your acquaintance. And I was wondering...I remember expressing the wish to invite you for breakfast after being informed of your lovely gesture, to thank you. Would you accept a belated invitation? Let's say next week?". I have never seen such starry eyes on a face of a fan. "And who would be so foolish to turn down an invitation from you, Miss Serda? Sure thing!" "Excellent! I'll send my maid to you then, she's here somewhere...enjoy the party, Miss Montague". I kiss her cheeks and offer her one last smile before going back to my guests. I search Sabine but I find Richard instead, who introduces me to a couple of survivors he shook hands with. It doesn't take long before I realise why he wanted me to meet them: they say they were on my lifeboat and it was thanks to my intervention that they survived that awful night. They will be eternally grateful. I...I don't know what to say. I see Richard smiling proudly down at me while a faint blush spread over my cheeks. I tell them I am sure they would have helped too if the roles were reversed and wish them a happy new life in America. As they part, I finally spot my little Napoleon approaching, imperturbable as the Sphinx, quietly observing the stewards moving from one side of the hall to other. You can take away her apron but not her inquisitive gaze, I suppose: no rest for Sabine... "Ah, here you are!" I greet her, before teasing her. "I feared I lost you in the crowd" She offers me a quick amused smile. "I wasn't lost, Madam, just mingling. An impressive crowd tonight, n'est pas?" "Beyond our wildest expectations, yes!" Richard confirms, eyes roaming the upper floor.

"I am glad to hear, Monsieur King. A well deserved success" my maid bows her head, concealing once again the disappointment for not being involved in the party setting. Then she turns towards me and continues, with a nonchalance that is only pretended. I know it quite well... "By a fortunate coincidence, I bumped into Miss Carrem just a moment ago". I can only hope my face doesn't betray my feelings, the turmoil her words provoked inside me. Adele is here, she came. I will get to see her at least one last time, I will talk to her. My words will be a poor consolation to her maybe but...I will see her again. "Carrem...Carrem, Carrem...oh right, your secretary on board, huh?" Richard exclaims but I barely register what he's saying. All I can think of is Adele, Adele here, tonight. Oh God, thank you! "Oui, precisement" my little Napoleon confirms on my behalf as I cannot speak. "An exquisite young lady, if I say so myself. The best candidate we had in ages, Monsieur, and I am not easily impressed, I assure you". Richard says something about how he would love to make her acquaintance and thank Miss Carrem personally but I am not listening just like the night of our arrival when he was stroking my hand but my head was far away with he woman I foolishly a abandoned at the pier. "I left her in the main hall downstairs. She's with her sister" Sabine adds, addressing me. Snapping out of my reverie, I manage to remind Richard that I talked a little about them. They were on my lifeboat too, we stayed together on the Carpathia...but I am extremely grateful to the providential steward who beckons him over. He sighs and excuses himself, saying he will be back before we know it. As soon as he's out of earshot and someone else interrupts me again, I wrap my arm around Sabine's and lead her to the side, by the railing. Now that Richard is gone, I can show my concern more freely. To some extent, obviously but I think I am safe with my little Napoleon.

"How is she? Did she look alright?" I inquiry, checking over my shoulder. Sabine ponders her words, as if thinking how to describe the impression her brief meeting with Adele left on her. After what feels like an eternity for my tormented heart, she speaks. "If I may, she looks...troubled". I knew it, I feared so. But hearing it put down into words makes me frown. "Troubled? But of course...what a fool I have been! I shouldn't have invited her here tonight, I should have visited her and-" But I can't bring myself to finish my own sentence. "Troubled with grief, I mean. With with the weight of what happened that night. Mourning, you would say, perhaps". Then she sighs, a deep sigh, shaking her head. "It's such a pity to see a young woman like her taking the world over her shoulders, all that sorrow, all that pain". "She wouldn't be Adele if she didn't" I smile, thinking of every time she spoke of her fight for women's rights, the days she spent in jail for it. My sweet revolutionary is indeed a little Atlas and I fear no one can change that, it's simply her nature. But it pains me to see her so miserable and I cannot shake away the feeling that my disappearance played a role in it. At the very least I added salt on her injury. "But Mademoiselle Carrem is strong" Sabine interrupts my somber train of thoughts. "She just needs time, that's all, I think. Time and a little joie de vivre, don't you think, Madam?".

I smile sadly at her words. "Don't we all need it, ma chére Sabine? A little joie the vivre...". Yes, it certainly would be nice. But is it even possible? Even for people like me and Adele or are we forced to be content with cheap surrogates that keep us floating on the water surface? I wish I had an answer... "I will go talk to her" I sigh, straightening my skirt. "I am sure MademoIselle Carrem will be delighted to see you, Madam". "I hope so, Sabine". Yes, I do hope so. We look at each other for a moment before I speak again. "Oh, before I forget...would you mind getting Miss Montague's address and find out when I can meet her for breakfast next week or so?" I ask, nodding at my fan's figure in the hall downstairs. "And book a table to the Plaza or the St Regis. They're both fine...oh and please, send Miss Montague a poster of Surviving the Titanic. I'll ask Richard to sign it too". I fill her in about the details of Lena's life before the sinking and her troubled arrival: the incident, the loss of her job and the end of her modelling career. Sabine bows her head. "Certament, Madam". "In the meantime, I'll see if I can find a way to do more. I wish I could do more for her, somehow" I continue, lost in my thoughts. My little Napoleon nods and goes quiet, pondering. Around us, the sound of laughters and clinging glasses. When she speaks again, she almost startles me. "I'll be on my way" she announces, standing straighter. Before taking her leave, she looks at me and comments quietly that it has just come to her mind that I still haven't found a new secretary since our arrival. I know that look, that pretended nonchalance once again. As Richard approaches, I give her arm a gentle squeeze, a faint smile crossing my lips. "Go find Miss Montague, Sabine. And not a word on this before I speak to the girl". She throws me a conspiratorial look and walks away. When I turn, Richard is offering me his arm. "Fancy a trip downstairs, darling?". "I thought you never asked!" I smirk, wrapping my arm around his.

As we start walk down the stairs, I can feel my heart beating faster in my chest at the thought of my proximity to Adele, how close we are after all this months...even if it's also different now. But it doesn't matter: I don't want it to matter now...what did she say on the deck of the sinking ship? ‘All I care about is that you're here with me, and safe’. Yes, that it's all I care about too. I...saw her. She's with Hileni by a small table with hors d'ouvres and a pyramid of champagne glasses. Be still my heart, I beg you, be still...but it doesn't listen. I cannot control it anymore now that I know for sure she's here. She's wearing a green dress that it or just perfect for her but it enhances her beauty, if it's even possible. Oh, Adele...you have no idea how badly I have missed you! I feel my face lighten up and my lips curl into a bright, happiest smile. See what hold you have on me, my love? I don't even pay attention to those who greet and part as I walk by: I only have eyes for one guest now, for her. The first who spots me is Hileni: her eyes widen at the sight of me. I suppose she has never seen me in all my glory before; on the Carpathia, even if I was still wearing the outfit of my birthday party underneath the coat a kind fan gave me, I was out of my element just like the rest of us. Adele turns a moment later, following her sister's gaze. When our eyes meet, I almost feel my knees get weak. I hope she can see that this smile is meant for her only. I think she does, she brightens up almost immediately I turn towards Richard. "Will you excuse me a moment? I want to say hi to a dear friend I haven't seen in a while...". Dear friend: the euphemism is an insult to what Adele means to me but it will do. Just like the fiction, it's what the world can take. "Sure, go ahead. I'll go find John" he smiles, parting. I immediately glide over to my love, heart racing in my chest. "Adele"

I call her name and the sweet sound of her name fills my mouth. I place my hand on her upper arms and kisses both her cheeks. Restraining myself from pulling her into a tight embrace and linger in that closeness is a Herculean effort. Her perfume, the shade of red spreading over her cheeks, her shy smile. How I missed you... "Let's you and I catch up" I say, still smiling so brightly. I turn to Hileni and ask: "Mind if I borrow your sister for a moment?". She nods, still looking awed. Without hesitation, I take Adele's arm and lead her to a corner of the room apart from the other guests. For a moment, none of us can't find words. Funny how words are most difficult to find with those who are dearest to our heart. But I know what it is...I feel it too. The weight of our past between us. The memory of our brief happiness together.

A last, I summon up enough courage to finally speak. "Ad-" "I-" We start talking at the same time, then burst into laughter. Look at us, two fools lost to love! "I feel...almost nervous. Ridiculous, aren't I?" I keep my smile on but I know, just know she sensed the vulnerability reverberating in my voice who has suddenly lost the confidence I had before with my guests. She smiles too, gesturing that it's alright. "Zetta, it's...so good to see you again". I am sure my mind now is less cheerful. Time for my poor apologies. "I'm sorry, Adele. I should have written or visited" I sigh. "I've just been so busy..." To my surprise, she interrupts me, understanding, smiling. "I understand. You've been making the film, and you're getting married..." But she suddenly lose the train of whatever else she had planned to say. Adele, you and I can try to behave normally around each other, to act as if nothing happened...but we simply fail all the time. Our feelings always get in the way, my love, and God knows if I don't know it too well. And this, this sadness cutting off your words is all my fault. "I know you're upset" I frown.

She meets my eyes again in a silent, unnecessary apology. You have nothing to apologise for, I do. And I owe you the cruel truth, at last. I take in a deep breath to steady myself and let my mask fall. I drop my voice to a whisper so that only she can hear. "I've been agonizing over what I'd say when I saw you. And I never came up with a good answer". Adele, if only you knew the nights I spend writing you the most ardent, sorrowful letters! "I love you. I want to be with you. But this marriage has to go forward or my career's done". Do you understand my impossible position, my dearest? But please, I beg you never doubt my feelings. "Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar...but never doubt I love". When she speaks, her voice is a pained whisper and her words an excruciating plea. "Zetta, please don't do this. I want us to spend our lives together". I couldn't ask for anything better, sweet Adele, but...there is always a cruel but for us. "Even if that life had to be kept secret?" I grimace. "If people knew about us, it would destroy everything I've worked for". Look what malicious rumours brought on Lawrence and Felix even without a solid evidence of their relationship. Look what the world does to people like us. These guests, my adoring fans crowd the movie theaters to see me fall in love with the hero, the dashing heartthrob 'every woman daydream of' without asking me what I really want. They smile and awe at me tonight but they wouldn't hesitate to drag me down into the gutter if they knew who my heart truly belongs to. "I...I can't have both you and my career".

I lower my eyes unable to sustain her gaze any longer. I am so incredibly sorry, Adele, so sorry.... She reaches for my hand, shyly, and I am reminded of the first time she took my hand into hers in my private projection room on board of the Titanic. The soothing warmth of her hand over mine felt so intimate, calming...just like now. I look back at her and I have to fight back tears. She looks over her shoulder then she speaks, her voice low. "I don't care if no one knows about us. All I care about is that there is an us. I need you, Zetta". My eyes widen as I register the meaning of her words. Does she...does she mean it? "Are you sure?" I ask her, unsure whether she is fully aware of what she's proposing. "This won't be like it was on the Titanic, bathhouses and stolen kisses. It won't be easy..." She searches my eyes and nods. I...I would have never thought nor hoped for such a hopeful end of this conversation I feared so much. Oh my dear...not losing Adele, being with Adele! Out of instinct, I move to kiss her but I refrain myself just in time, painfully aware of the surroundings. I must long for your lips a bit longer, my love...but it doesn't matter, we're together now. "We'll need to come up with a plan..." I consider. "How do you feel about being my publicist?". "About as confident as I felt about being your secretary" she beams. I laugh as I laughed with her in the most dire moments...incredible what a light she casts on me, even when I am at my lowest. I regard her fondly as a newfound sweet joie de vivre starts spreading inside me, and I put my hand to her cheek. "This is the happiest I've felt in months...knowing you'll be at my side" I whisper, my voice trembling with the swirl of feelings taking hold of me. "Always" she whispers back, slightly leaning to the touch.

Suddenly we're both brought back to the party by the flash powder igniting around us. As I unwillingly retrieve my hand we're surrounded by journalists shouting my name. I am too overjoyed by our sweet reunion to be annoyed by them. I wish they could have forgotten about me a bit longer, granting me more time with Adele but they are oddly bearable this time.

I see her leaning closer and putting her mouth to my ear. The words she whispers send my heart fluttering.

"I love you". I turn my face to meet her eyes. I must summon every ounce of strength I have to stop myself from pulling her mouth to mine, pouring my affection on her right in front of the photographers. I see the same restraint in her eyes. There will be other nights for that. Yes, there will other nights... "And I you" I whisper back. My voice is soft, adoring...how could I not adore her? I smile at her one last time before turning to the cameras and bathing into the flash lights. They better capture this moment, I think: I will never be as radiant as I am now. As they keep calling my name and taking picture of me posing, I slowly return to the party I momentarily left for my reunion to Adele. I spot Richard and John lightening cigarettes by the staircase and not far Miss Montague chatting with a man I have never seen before. Sabine is checking herself in a mirror, fixing her headband...a rare moment of vanity for her. Hileni is pondering whether going for the pastry mignons is a bit too much and once saw me looking at her, she shyly waves at me and walks away. To my delight, Lawrence is signing an autograph to a fan, under the proud gaze of Felix, who took a step back. Good old Lawrence... ‘Sometimes our secrets are what make our lives worth living. No matter with what high cost they come attached’, he said. And he was right. I used to repeat to myself that you can't breathe if you're constantly underwater. It turns out I was wrong. With her love, I can breathe underwater.

#titanic storyscape #zetta serda #adele carrem #zetta x adele #zetta x adele series

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ericsonclan · 3 years

Text

The Effortless Joy of Being with You

Summary: Doug and Sisi enjoy a simple afternoon of gaming and pie.

Word Count: 1789

Read on AO3:

Doug squatted in front of the oven, his eyes focused on the pie made visible thanks to the oven light. The juices from the boysenberries spilled out of the top of the crust and began to coat little sections of it. Any second now and the pie would be done. Doug’s eyes stayed glued to the oven while the faint tapping of the Switch could be heard in the other room along with the music of the video game. After a few seconds Sisi’s voice appeared as well.

“Come on, Zag, just you and me and all these underworld baddies. We got this! We can win!” Sisi cheered on the protagonist of the game as their fingers whacked against the buttons on the joycons.

Doug smiled; he was happy to hear that Sisi was having fun. His eyes wandered over and he debated on peeking his head in to watch Sisi play Hades. But he knew he would see Sisi soon enough, just as soon as this pie was done. That thought made Doug glance over and notice that the juices of the pie were about to slip off the crust and onto the oven.

“Shoot, shoot, shoot!” Doug jogged over and snatched up his bear oven mitts. He turned off the oven and gingerly took out the pie. After examining it for a moment then peeking in the oven Doug let out a small sigh of relief. It wouldn’t have been the end of the world if some of the pie ended up on the bottom of the oven but still it would’ve created smoke and been a pain to clean.

“Everything okay in there?” Sisi called out, sounding somewhat concerned.

“Yep! Everything is peachy, I was just worried about the pie.” Doug replied as he looked down at it. Small drizzles of the purple sauces slipped down the side of the pie, painting the golden brown crust. It was a bit messy looking but still Doug felt proud for making another successful pie.

“It smells delicious,” Sisi walked forward and wrapped their arms around Doug before surprising him with a kiss on the cheek. Doug felt his heart do a little flip at the sudden romantic gesture.

“Thanks, I think it’ll taste great!” Doug moved to hold onto Sisi’s arms but quickly saw that he still had the oven mitts on. “Oops, let me get these off and then we can head back to the living room.” He quickly worked to get off the oven mitts and make sure the oven was turned off while Sisi watched in silence. Doug was wearing one of his favorite shirts: a green t-shirt with a white polar bear with antlers in the center. It was one of many in Doug’s collection of unique shirts. That shirt along with his socks and the bear oven mitts made a warm smile appear on Sisi’s lips. He was such a dork, their dork, and they loved him for it.

“Okay, all set,” Doug moved forward, intertwining his fingers with Sisi’s. “The pie will need to cool for a little bit,”

“Sounds good to me. Now you can see my skills in action,” Sisi smiled as she led the way back into the living room. Her eyes glanced around, noticing the wall of masks that Doug had helped put up. Sisi’s eyes focused on two of her favorites in her collection.

The first was a black fox mask with red detailing around the eyes and within the ears as well as some extra marks of gold that added to the mask’s beauty. The other mask was also a fox except its primary color was white with red detailing that brought attention to the mask’s simple yet expertly done craftsmanship.

As Sisi’s eyes scanned the room looking at the setup with two TVs in the room and different cookbooks and mechanical books that filled the shelves, Doug’s focus was elsewhere. His eyes seemed glued to Sisi’s outfit, a simple waist level leather jacket that covered a plain black tee which led down to a green plaid skirt accented by a black belt. Sisi had always been so fashionable and every outfit that she wore always made Doug’s heartbeat quicken.

“Okay, Dougie, wanna sit beside me or on my lap?” Sisi smiled brightly as she sat wrapped in a blanket that covered her black tights.

Doug felt like words were escaping him as he struggled to speak for a moment. “I’ll take your lap,” He felt his face heat up at his own words as he walked over.

“Okay!” Sisi smiled and immediately wrapped her arms around Doug’s waist while her head rested on his shoulder. With a quick tap of a button she started up the game again.

She was currently in Asphodel battling her way against the Learnean Bone Hydra. Sisi expertly navigated through the attacks that the boss was trying to hit her with using the dash button. Wielding Aegis, Sisi made quick work of the different bone hydras that appeared while the boss was protected by a shield. She used the mighty shield to do strong attacks before running away and tossing it to get some last minute damage.

“Whoa! You’re doing great, Sisi!” Doug praised as his fingers brushed against Sisi’s arms. The praise made Sisi’s heart grow warm and she continued on.

“Thanks, I’ve dealt with this little shit enough times to know what to expect,” Sisi smirked, her eyes shining with determination to defeat this boss. Her fingers tapped against the buttons making Zagreus dash around, dealing a good amount of damage. The perks from Hermes were ones that Sisi always went for whenever they were available and she was glad she had them this time. A few times she had nearly gotten hit but luckily dodged it.

Finally she reached the last bit of the boss’ health bar and pressed down on the ZR button, making Zeus’ lighting rain down from the heavens and crush the bone hydra. Sisi let out a small victory sound as she shot her hands up in the air. “Take that! No one fucks with the son of Hades!” Sisi crowed and pushed the analog stick forward to get Zagreus to move to the next section of the underworld.

“You did amazing!” Doug moved his head back and stole a kiss from Sisi. Sisi paused for a second, clearly surprised by the kiss before a huge proud smile took over her lips. She immediately returned the kiss then brushed her nose against Doug’s. With newfound determination and her heart beating wildly, Sisi progressed forward into Elysium. Once there she immediately jumped into battle, using Aegis to mow down enemies. “Ha ha ha! No one can escape my wrath!” Sisi laughed as she hunted down the wandering souls of warriors that moments ago had turned their spears against her.

Doug stole a glance back at Sisi, his own smile growing. He always enjoyed how passionate Sisi got whenever she played a video game, especially with how calm and laidback Sisi was outside of the world of videogames. Doug snuggled up closer to his girlfriend and watched happily as Sisi continued to climb up through the underworld.

Soon, however, Sisi got distracted by the beauty of Elysium, the lush green plants that grew around and on top of the tiles and the beautiful white clouds surrounding the area.

“So pretty,” Sisi whispered and continued to get lost in the simple striking landscape of Elysium when suddenly an enemy attacked him. “Shit,” Sisi mumbled and tried to turn the tide of battle in his favor but it was too late. Quickly he became overwhelmed by the enemies and the final drops of his life bar slipped away, sending Zagreus all the way back down to the beginning. “Damn it,” Sisi groaned and let his head fall against the soft couch cushion.

“I think you did great,” Doug kissed one of Sisi’s palms which made Sisi’s heart flutter.

“Thanks. Guess I got distracted by Elysium… again,” Sisi took a deep breath then handed over the joycons. “Your turn,”

“Okay,” Doug took the controls and began to navigate Zagreus through the House of Hades, talking to the different residents there. After a few minutes of getting some upgrades he switched to Varatha, the eternal spear. Doug had always preferred this weapon with its long reach and the fact that you could throw it, piercing through enemies before calling it back. Doug made quick work of the first few levels of Tartarus. Sisi continued to give praise whenever he could along with small neck kisses that seemed more distracting than helpful. Doug’s laughter always made Sisi smile though so it was a win win for him and based on the quick hand squeezes or small romantic gestures Doug gave he was clearly happy too.

Soon Tartarus was complete and Doug moved onto Asphodel. As soon as he stepped foot inside Doug began to gush about the design and work that went into this game. Sisi listened happily as his boyfriend took the topic and ran with it, talking about which engine the company had used and how smoothly the game ran. Sisi always enjoyed Doug gushing about anything mechanical, finding the sparkle in his eyes and his smile beautiful.

Doug continued to share as Sisi cuddled up closer into the couch when suddenly an enemy got the upper hand on him. Soon Doug’s panic took over and all his plans seemed to disappear into the back of his mind until the enemy got the final fatal strike. “Argh, you...you... You dick!” Doug huffed as Zagreus emerged from the pool of blood and back into the House of Hades. “Pardon my French,” Doug quickly added, which made Sisi laugh.

“It's fine. If you wanna use stronger words to swear, you can,”

Doug shook his head. “No, I think I’ll stick with my words,” He placed the joycons down and got up. Immediately turning around, he held out his hand. “Pie time,”

“Pie time!” Sisi accepted Doug’s hand and got up, leading the way towards the kitchen. Once they had reached the kitchen Doug slipped his hand out of Sisi’s and began to prepare to serve the pie.

Sisi watched Doug for a moment and felt his heart settle into a calm happiness. Being with Doug always felt so effortless. It was nice, feeling this happy. With that thought bouncing around in his mind, Sisi walked forward. “Let me help,” He opened the cupboard and grabbed the small plates. Doug smiled appreciatively and began to place down the slices of pie. After a moment his eyes met Sisi’s and they shared the same thought. Being with each other felt right.

#twdg #twdg doug #twdg sisi #twdg douka #fanfic #ericson's diner au

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musedblues · 4 years

Text

Born To Love You [Part: 6]

summary: When Gwilym ropes you into a lie, the truth becomes painfully obvious. When Joe makes things harder, there’s no telling if he even has a clue.

a/n: Well, this one is a dozy. There's plenty of angst, a dash of sickeningly sweet fluff and vague mentions of sex, but blink and you'll miss it. (Just be mindful!) After this... is just the epilogue! I cross my heart to get that bit out soon. I'm sorry for leaving you lot on a cliffhanger for so long! But I'm so so grateful for all your sweet feedback and kind lovely words. I'll really be looking forward to everyone's thoughts on this second to last chapter! 💖

w/c: 9k

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You couldn't wait to get home. You couldn't wait to toss your suitcase full of laundry in the wash room and face plant into your familiar bed. But when you got there, and your bags were stored away and your favorite sheets beckoned you to bed, you still felt like shit.

What's worse, was the quiet. James and Andy had gone off to tend to renovations in their new home, during the weekend you settled back into the flat you'd shared with the two for years and years. So you sat alone, adjusting to the new normal. Adjusting to the hollow void where your heart should be and the echoes of it's once fierce beat surging through your ears loud enough to keep you awake.

And when Gwilym rang to hold one-sided conversations with his daughter and ask how you were, you didn't even pretend to smile. He hated to see it. But a small part of Gwilym's soul settled slightly, to see you'd dropped the act of fake grins and scripted answers. And because he sort of figured you'd hang up on him if he brought it up, and you sat on the edge of your seat every time he rang, you never spoke about what happened. Not until James and Andy came home.

///

"My dear, it's been ages!" Andy beamed, tossing his bag to the sofa and taking giant strides to wrap his arms around you. His jubilant smile was a lovely sight to see, it was hardly rimmed with the question you knew must have been on the tip of his tongue. Because Andy in all his brilliant blonde wonder had remained almost entirely out of the loop. James only knew some of the bits of the story you'd stirred up over the past month. But you figured he must have told his better half what he did know. Because it was Andy who asked, after all, in the usual way any of your friends might have for a few years now.

"How was the big trip to see your lover, then?" Andy teased, just like everyone who knew you and Gwilym well enough always had, before. Only this time you had no witty come back. You had no sharp-edged jab to defend yourself. You only let your demeanor crack, at last, letting hot, humiliating tears slip down your cheeks.

His asking was the final straw, because even though you were home, nothing felt the same anymore.

"Oh way to go, Andrew." James scoffed on his hurry in the door, reaching out to grab your shoulders, pulling you in for some kind of protective hug. You heard Andy stutter out a disoriented apology.

"It's okay." You sniffled, halfway peeling yourself from James' embrace. It was your brilliant, fiery, quick witted best pal who made you pour everybody a drink and gather around the kitchen table to spew your guts; after they spent a good hour trading Olive back and forth for several dozen welcome home hugs.

Olive was fast asleep, and it was quite again, like it had been since your return. Only now instead of letting those same old thoughts echo through your head, you spewed them all, swallowing your pride with shots of whiskey. James and Andy listened all the while, taking quick drinks when you did, wincing over your pathetic, deadly details.

"Well... It's really just like that scene in My Best Friends Wedding.'" Andy mewled, trying to equate the pickle you found yourself in, to something that was fixed on a movie screen in the matter of one easy-going scene. You shook your head as James did too,

"This is clearly way more like While You Were Sleeping, except Gwil's been awake the whole time." James pointed out, getting up to reach for the bottle of alcohol on your counter.

"This is Anna Karenina." You whined gravely, letting your head drop to the table with a sorry thud. Andy gasped as James gently tugged your hair to get your attention as he said,

"Fuck that. You're getting that happy ending, love. Just give it time."

Your flatmates promised to see you through your latest greatest disaster; swearing that even after they moved away you'd still be welcome to crash in their guest room, swearing everything would be okay.

///

Halloween ended when Olive scraped her knees. She stumbled over an uprooted tree branch, scuffing up the socks you found to perfectly match her chicken costume.

You left James and Andy in their nondescript punk rock get ups and headed home with your unsettled babe for the night. You woke up early the next morning, around the same time your flat mates were creeping in from whatever party they got sucked into the whirlpool of. They told you goodnight as you totted Olive into the living room for the day. It was filling up with halfway packed moving boxes that served as reminders for you to get a move on. So while an old Julie Andrews film played, you scrolled through some listing as Olive clamored to the sofa at your side.

And right when you'd found the perfect neighborhood; A call you were anxious to answer interrupted your interest in a reasonably priced townhouse close to a quaint school district.

"You promised you'd facetime last night!" Lucy's delicate whine was music to your ears.

"I sent you a picture of Olive in her chicken costume! But we had to cut festivities short." You explained Olives tumble and apologized for missing out the chance to facetime your friend all dressed up, like you once promised through text.

"Not to mention you missed getting a glimpse of our killer halloween party, over here. I'd never seen Gwil so drunk." Lucy snorted. You chuckled too. "I wish you would have been there."

"I would have loved to see you, Luc, but I'm sure I wasn't missed by anyone else."

"I beg to differ. I wasn't the only one who was sad when you didn't call, last night. In fact, Joe said-"

"Lucy." You cautioned. Olive rested her head in your lap, and you ran your fingers through her curls in an automatic attempt to keep that familiar sickness from rising in your throat. Lucy stalled for a moment but spoke up again.

"Joe talked about you all night, actually." She seemed to realize. "To me, anyway. We sat while the others played some dumb game... and he asked about you. He had been drinking, though, and kept saying something about the aquarium?"

"I'm going to hang up if you keep-"

"Y/n..." Lucy bit for your undivided attention.

"Joe... well... you should talk to him. It would do you both some good."

"I don't think that's a good idea in the slightest. I'm not over-"

"Just... talk to him. For me?" Lucy begged, sweetly. You said okay, but not because you planned on phoning the guy, but because you were desperate for your friend to talk about anything besides Joe.

///

Gwilym came home for the holidays. You fetched him from the train station, settling into his familiar company right away. And for a week, you spent most of your time in his spacious home, baking sweets and taking naps on his big comfy sofa. You mixed drinks for the members of his massive family who stopped over, bearing gifts, and telling stories. All while Gwilym kept Olive on his hip, when she wasn't trailing behind his stride.

You spent Christmas morning the same way you had for years in a row. Only now was the last time you'd be joining James and Andy around the table for your traditional pancake breakfast. It was the last time you'd huddle around the moving box cramped living room, trading decorated parcels and reading new storybooks to Olive. You laughed the whole day, in place of crying, because you knew you would if you brought up the elephant in the room.

You couldn't tell them how much you'd miss them. How much you already did.

Your pending ex flatmates took a trip the week leading up to new years eve- filling both their cars with boxes and vowing to finish fixing up repairs to their almost home sweet home. Gwilym noted, over and over again, that you were welcome to stay with him till you found another place to settle.

You slept on the idea, in Gwilym's guest room over on New Year's Eve. The two of you were fast in bed long before the new year kicked off. You started the fresh new morning when Gwilym gently jarred you awake with a tender reminder of the promise you'd both made to Lucy.

///

James and Andy were more than happy to keep Olive for the weekend, as it was the last chance they'd get to spoil the kid for a while. They waved you off at the train station as Gwilym held out his hand for you while you climbed the narrow steps.

"I hope you know how much I really don't want to do this." You huffed, plopping into a seat facing Gwil. He grinned, peering to you past his glasses, past rays of the dull rising sun.

"I'm sorry." Gwilym nodded. You narrowed your eyes in wonder, silently prompting Gwilym to explain why he sighed so gravely.

"I'm sorry for the way I ruined things, for you. I know how much you came to care for everyone, and how you now feel like everything is destroyed. But I think you'll find your reputation isn't completely tarnished." Gwilym smiled, glancing at his feet as you bit your lip, considering his words.

"I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse." You let out a breathy laugh, watching the train slowly chug away from the platform. Wouldn't it be better to be excommunicated instead of tiptoeing on eggshells around people who used to consider you their unconditional friend?

"But thanks, Gwil." You quickly added, hoping he could tell you were moved by his attempt to ease your worry. You really couldn't imagine life without your unconventional friendship.

///

You tried to ignore how much more like home Gwilym's airbnb felt than your own beloved loft. You unearthed a change of clothes and left your bags in the back of his rented car. You'd be staying with Lucy this weekend, after her sister's gallery opening. You doted on your flatmate back home. And you put yourself through small hell for Gwilym. But there seemed to be a growing world of things you'd only ever dream of doing for the sake of Lucy's happiness.

You dressed for the night out, stuffing your phone and some money in the clutch Lucy gave you on the first night you met the girl. The small bag that's stitching was decorated fossilized gemstones was designed by Lucy's sister, whose gallery full of creations you were off to admire.

Gwilym filled your time with anxious chatter about what Lucy had told him to expect tonight. You couldn't tell if he was excited, or rambling to ease your clearly nervous state.

///

Lucy and Rami were waiting in the vestibule, donned respectively in black silk and pink chiffon. You didn't have time to second guess yourself before your well-dressed friends stormed your way- wrapping their arms around your shoulders and gently squealing in your ear.

"No way, I'm not even close to done yet." Rami squeezed his arms tight around you when you started to peel yourself from him. You let out a warm laugh, hugging him back all the same.

"If you must disappear for so long ever again, you've really got to do a better job of keeping in touch, you know?" Rami rang over your shoulder as you leaned into his surprisingly welcoming embrace.

Lucy yanked you from Rami's clutch and pulled you in her stride, rambing right off about how her sister had been anxious to meet you. The girls gallery was full of boldly decorated gowns, painted shoes, and upcycled handbags- true works of wearable art. Before you had time to admire any of it, Lucy pulled you straight to the back of the room, where a girl who looked very much like your friend was entertaining a group of guests sipping champagne.

Lucy introduced you to her sister, an equally elegant and bubbly girl who smiled at you with the same warmth your good friend had always shown. You proudly clutched the small purse Lucy had gifted you, flashing it out for all to see. You boasted about how you adored the thing, and how much you admired the girls creations you'd caught glimpses of on you breeze through, so far. Lucy stayed glued to your side, as if she'd never left it, bragging about her sister to the group who still listened on.

"Go one then, everyone. I'll fill more drinks while you enjoy all my hard work." The girl laughed, waving about the gallery full of eye catching instalments. Lucy took you around every corner, telling stories about the outfits you gazed upon. Some stragglers would listen on, while others shouldered past to find more drinks. One of the shoulders that brushed yours belonged to a familiar blonde. Ben turned to give a nod in your direction before scuttling off to the sound of his name being called.

You couldn't make out the look in his eye before his face turned away, and you couldn't be sure if he'd caught the look in yours. You couldn't tell if Lucy pulled you closer to distract you from it all, or if she really was as excited as she seemed to point out the display of umbrellas before you.

When Gwilym reappeared with a flute of champagne for you in clutch, you took it, and stayed near Lucy as she floated from one place to the next. Lingering too long near the father of your child felt more like a dare than ever, in such mixed company.

It was then, Joe showed up; before Lucy had floated too far. When you saw him, you pretended your breath didn't catch in a theatrical gasp. Rami pretended not to notice. And Ben swooped toward Joe, guiding him in the opposite direction with an over blown greeting, as you shooed Lucy to keep on walking.

///

Lucy set you up in her lavish guest room, made up of pastel walls, sheer curtains and cozy sheets. You dumped your bags in the corner and watched the girl primp her hair in the guest room en suite before the others arrived. Lucy was throwing some kind of after party in her sisters honor, where more trusted and true friends were meant to show up ready to mingle the night away.

"Since Sami is in town, too, Rami and I thought it was the perfect time for everyone we adore to dance the night away, together." Lucy mumbled past the bobby pins between her teeth.

Rami's brother seemed lovely, based on the short introductions you shared back at the gallery. Sami was one of the first guests to burst into Lucy's flat, balancing a few store bought desserts and asking for your help setting them across counter tops. Lucy was always looking for an excuse to gather everyone together huh? You smiled over the realization that everyone seemed to be just as eager for whatever overblown gathering the girl planned next.

Soon, the home was full of faces you'd come to recognize throughout the night. You chatted with Lucy's sister, while music kept changing genres with every new soul who was awarded control of the bluetooth.

But as drinks and hugs were passed around, you'd yet to see any of the people you'd come to know during the pantomime of a time you'd spent in London, last. Not until you floated toward the kitchen.

Ben was there, head tossed back as a swallow of whiskey disappeared down his throat. You crept in, assessing the drinks that linked the counter- more eager to extend your greetings to the blonde than you had been for whatever you'd come in here for in the first place.

"Hi Ben. You look well." You spoke, admiring his tousled hair and the fitted clothes he wore. The blonde twisted and looked right at you for the first time all night.

"Oh, thanks. I'm just so glad you're back round." He slurred in cold disdain. His tone was flat and his eyes were empty. As you registered his disposition, you recalled the look in Ben's eye every time he caught you playing house with Gwil. If anyone was fooled by your act it was Ben. He'd admired your picturesque family. You'd burned his rose-colored image to the ground.

"No, yeah I really wish you could have been round for Halloween. You could have gone as Bebe Buell. Gwil could have been Steven Tyler and Joe would have been Todd Rundgren. Hell, you wouldn't have even had to have dressed up for that role." Ben ended his tipsy address by slamming his empty glass on the counter, causing a crack to race up to the rim. You stood there, heart shattering in place, too...

"I swear to God if you break Joe's heart I will-" Ben pointed, darkly.

"Ben, what the fuck?" Lucy cursed, spinning into the room like a hurricane. She ripped the broken glass from Ben's fist and gave him a disappointed glare.

"Apologize to her right now!" Lucy boomed. You stood stone still, watching in shock. You'd been prepared to deal with every blow Ben delt you, because that's what you deserved. You did nothing to merit Lucy's displays of friendship.

"Fuck that." Ben spat, looking right to you. "You're a fucking liar."

Rami appeared as if he was just breezing by, but grabbed Ben along the way, clasping his shoulder and dragging him out of the room. Lucy scurried over to you, while you started to apologize and plan your escape route.

"I knew I shouldn't have come, I'm sorry-"

"Yes, you told a lie. But you've apologized, and explained, and given it time. So has Gwil. It's over now. Dealt with. Ben had no excuse for losing his cool like that." The brilliant blonde petted your arm as you held fast to the anchor of regret that had found a residence in your belly.

"I hurt his feelings Luc. That's excuse enough."

"Well, I don't think so. He should apologize. He doesn't need to like what you did but you're not going anywhere. So, he'd better get used to it."

Lucy spoke decidedly, reaching for a martini glass. You smiled, and shrugged, and mouthed thank you as a few folks you didn't know pranced into the kitchen.

When you rounded the corner into the busy living room, you were halted on your mission to find a bit of quiet.

"Here, you're gonna want some of this before Gwil eats it all."

Joe was stood in front of you with a small purple plate of cake. You glanced from the buttercream and back up to the man with fossils for eyes. He was dressed in clothes you remembered him wearing before, a bit of stubble covered his jaw.

Your hand lifted to take the plate from his grasp as your eyes locked on his, too many words to choose from sticking in your throat. He started to turn back to wherever he came from, but then nodded his head for you to follow along.

"Are you kidding me? You're a shit friend." Gwilym cried from the sofa, as you approached. "After I asked you so nicely to fetch me another slice." Gwil's gaze turned from the dessert in your clutch, shaking his head in Joe’s direction.

"That was the last piece and you already had three." Joe pointed to the plate in your hand as he plopped next to Gwilym on the sofa. You eased across from the two, moving faster than you could think otherwise.

"He's always stealing Olives snacks, too." You laughed a little, hoping like mad that you didn't seem as nervous as you were. "I'll take this as pay back on her behalf." You grinned to Gwil, raising a bite of cake to your lips.

As Gwil started to defend himself, Sami breezed by, settling into the nook you'd found yourself among, it didn't take him long to learn you and Gwil were trading banter about the same little girl.

"Oh, you two are together?" Sami asked, trying to connect the dots, like so many others had before. And in a flash, after shooting you a look, Gwilym answered. He assured you weren't a pair. That you only stuck so close because of the kid you shared. As he rambled about Olive, you wondered why it couldn't have been that easy, every other time.

You picked sorrily at your cake, accepting the new normal. Accepting the same white noise that blasted through your ears while your throat closed around the apologies you felt you'd never say enough of. And while Gwil pulled up a few photos of your darling daughter to show Sami, you glanced up, noticing Joe turning his easy going expression toward you.

"Thanks," You decided no sooner than you started speaking. "Ya know... for not hating me."

Joe's delicate gaze turned. His brow furrowed and his smile twisted as his eyes studied your own for a bit. You turned back to your cake, eating as much as you could before the permanent sickness in your stomach was too all-consuming.

Then you got up to toss your rubbish away. You left the people you knew mixed among the strangers who didn't know enough of you to cast appropriate glares on your creep through the kitchen. As you lingered in the back of the room, Lucy's sister led a group of girls in from the cold. She warned you the fire burning on the patio was close to dying out as she guided her friends indoors. You took it as a strange invitation to float out back to the empty ring of patio furniture. The head pounding music and bouts of laughter echoing from inside nearly became silent as you shut the door and drifted to sit on your own. This was the escape you'd been in search of earlier. But you weren't solo for long.

"You alright?" Joe's voice cut through the cold, after the storm door creaked shut behind him. You glanced up to the guy, who braced his arms at his chest, and waited to move closer until you gave the green light. You were afraid of what might happen when you answered.

"Yeah." You nodded smally, after a sigh. Joe floated toward the bench you'd sunken into, willing the cushions to swallow you whole.

"I don't know why you think I'd hate you." Joe stated, sending your mind to reel as if his daring to single you out wasn't enough of an emotional frenzy.

"You know why." You responded in an easier breath than you knew you had in you. Joe sat at your side on Lucy's posh patio furniture, while you turned your head, watching the fire die out.

"No, I don't. Even though it was all fucked up... I just... I guess I understood." Joe started, taking his time explaining things from his perspective. Explaining how he'd watched you and Gwilym fit together, and clash. How he heard some of the things you and Gwilym hissed at each other from other rooms. How you'd look at eachother with warnings. Joe said that when the truth came out, he was more relieved to know it, than offended. But you weren't totally convinced. You weren't relieved at all.

"I'm never not going to be sorry, Joe." You shrugged, casting your eyes toward him for a daring beat.

"What for?" Joe asked quietly, in a tone that suggested you didn't have a thing to be sorry for. Your eyes turned to your lap, searching for the right way to say what you felt you needed too. After a pause that seemed like eternity, you said,

"I wanted things to be so different..."

And then Joe said,

"Yeah. Me too."

Damn it. If you'd only just done something, anything differently, back then. You'd tried taking it all back. You'd tried letting time pass. Like all the movies said to do. So why did it feel worse than ever? Why couldn't you help but to hang your head, catch your breath, and bite back tears? You prayed the moment would pass. You prayed Joe would get up and leave you to suffer, leave you to adjust to your new normal.

You wouldn't let yourself cry. Not even when you felt the weight of Joe's hand in your shoulder. You held it together still, when he gently spoke your name, a vague invitation for you to let go, but you wouldn't. Joe wrapped his arm behind you. And when he did, all your practices nearly rendered useless. But instead of crying, you sank into Joe's side and closed your eyes. He let you.

///

He walked behind as you decided to head back in. And he said goodbye soon after, leaving with a tipsy Gwilym in tow.

Rami stayed to help clean up. Then he left Lucy with a kiss goodbye, on his way to enjoy the last of his brothers company in London. The house was quiet, but still buzzing with new born memories of laughter and commotion. Lucy was tired, and so were you. It was easy to pretend that you just craved sleep, and not an entirely different set of realities. So you saved expressing your regret for the shower and vowed to enjoy the rest of the weekend with your friend; who'd been looking forward to having you over since she conceived these plans at the beginning of the end of last year.

You always figured it would be easier to ignore your feelings. To steer clear from Joe. But with the way all your mutual friends seemed to enjoy each other's company, your plans fell through. So if you had to wind up so near Joe, you figured you'd better enjoy the slightest bits of his company. Because he'd smiled so easily at you. He'd been so kind. You didn't deserve any amount of his attention, but hell, you'd take it.

///

The next day you wandered down a few streets in the surprisingly warm London air. Pepperings of snow had melted away and you could have been fooled into dressing for spring if the wind didn't pick up every now and again. But still, you strolled alongside Lucy until you reached a small bistro, where she insisted on buying your lunch. She also insisted on listening to you talk, even though you were much more anxious to hear the deadly details of her much more exciting life.

She listened to your stories about Olive and Christmas time with Gwilym. She listened to you tell how nervous you were to come back to London, ready for some reality television show level of drama to bog you down. Lucy laughed at the prospect and kept pulling her phone into view when you stopped to take sips of your drink.

You realized why she'd been so taken with texting when your date was crashed. Of course, Lucy didn't tell you she'd invited Joe along. And of course, as he joined your table, Lucy stood to leave.

"Right, I've got to meet Rami to see his brother off. I'll see you later, doll, don't have too much fun without me!" Lucy shrugged into her coat and spun around after leaving you with the gesture of a kiss.

You couldn't help but laugh as she disappeared around the corner. Joe grimaced when he discovered that you'd been left out of the loop, swearing he hadn't dreamed of catching you off guard. You decided it was the way of things, in London. Anyway the wind blows... right?

It only took you the usual dread filled second to get past your blush. To assess Joe's windblown hair and his familiar posture. And just like that, after he ordered some tea and you sent Lucy a message full of hot headed emojis to decode, you and Joe delved into one of those conversations you always had with ease. The kind where he'd tell you an exceptionally long winded story about the madness on set. One of his exaggerated quotes would remind you of something from a long past summer camp, and then you'd get to talking about growing up. One thing always led to another, until there was no topic left to turn. Until the conversation you were never sure might come to life was the only one left to have.

It was Joe, in fact, who'd brought up some stupid thing Gwilym said on one of their days off. How he'd misheard an expression and argued with Joe, and Google, slow to admit his misunderstanding.

"Sounds like Gwil." You laughed, but only a little. Only to suppress the scream in your throat. You glanced down to see if Lucy had responded to the message in your lap, but only to avoid Joe's fossilized gaze. She had. She told you she had no clue when she'd be back home and reminded you where her spare key was hidden in case you became stranded.

And when you looked back up, Joe hadn't shifted his intently watchful eye.

"You know, we really should talk."

He was right. This was always coming, somehow, someway. Even as the universe tried its darnst to prevent it, still. Lunch hour had ended, and the bistro was closing. But all the reasons you'd said no to Joe in the past didn't exist anymore. So you asked if he fancied to walk back to Lucy's, where he could leave you be after giving you an earful.

The whole way there was sprinkled with mindless chatter to fill the gaps. The calm before the storm, you decided. You found Lucy's spare key with your heart in your throat, and tried to remember all the good things you'd come to adore about Joe that might mean he'd let you down gently. But you really deserved a good talking too. A totally battering of the heart and soul.

You floated to the kitchen, rambling through the same speech you'd given Lucy hours ago, about how uncertain you'd been about showing up in London after everything. How you expected to have heard many more curses from everyone, by now. How Ben's scolding you last night was only surprising due to the fact that it was cut short.

Joe listened, shaking his head every now and again, settling into the chair nearest you as the setting sun turned the room a dark, sad blue.

"Ben will come around." Joe nodded, after you cringed at bringing up how he spoke to you in this very kitchen.

"Well I'll understand if he doesn't." You assured. You'd come here expecting to spend time with Lucy, and find some kind of closure with everyone else. Even though you didn't want to.

"He will. He cares about you, y/n. We all do. Things like that aren't so easily changed."

You couldn't help but grin as your eyes rolled. Then, with all the compassion Lucy had shown you, and all the assurance Gwil had always given, Joe spoke up. He rambled for a bit about how September seemed from his perspective. How he was more relieved, than upset, when things boiled up and over. Because then, at least he'd hoped, all the times he'd caught you and Gwilym hissing at each other from the other room, would have ended. Joe hoped, when he found out the truth, that it was as simple as it seemed.

You laughed, because his definition of simple boggled your mind a bit.

"All I'm saying is I'm glad you and Gwil cared enough about each other to pretend to care a little bit more." Joe chuckled. "It all could have been much worse, ya know?"

"You're impossibly optimistic. But I'm glad." You pursed your smile, settling deeper into your seat, feeling less like your heart might explode.

After another bout of expressing your regret, and Joe assuring you had nothing to be sorry for, everything sort of felt like it used too. Your conversation floated from one thing to the next, like it always did. You spent the entire sunset yammering with the guy you'd always been too nervous to stand just near.

"Just exactly how long are you staying?" Joe seemed to suddenly wonder, when you chatter started to dissolve.

"Only until the weekend is up. I promised Lucy..." You noted, wondering if this surprise set up was something she'd had in mind all along. You wouldn't have put it past her. "She's apparently got very big plans for us the next couple of days.""

"Right," Joe shifted, his lovely smirk deflating every so slightly. "Well then it looks like this is our only opportunity to talk like this, huh?"

You figured so, trying not to look so distraught over how badly you really didn't want to leave Joe's company. It always got better each time. It always took you by surprise and put you at ease in one go. And maybe that was because you dreaded the times he wasn't near worse than the times he was. And this was one of the last, without another to look forward too.

"So, then, can I just say something I was hoping to have much longer to think through before speaking?" He grinned, but his tone was serious- deadly. A lethal pause started to set in, Joe shifted his weight and sucked in a breath. You did too, then nodded, doing your best to brace yourself accordingly. Joe seemed to consider his thoughts for a beat longer, each silent nanosecond sending your pulse into overdrive.

"I meant what I said when we met." Joe gave one sure nod before locking his forest colored eyes onto yours. "I still do."

"You do?" You asked, not forgetting the words he chose careful after knocking into you; but not understanding that he might have held onto them all the same.

"And when I told you I wish we'd met differently... this is what I meant. This was the kind of chance I had my fingers crossed for." Joe gestured between the two of you in the dim kitchen as the light started fading below windows.

"What? To remind me of the things you said without the fear of Gwil overhearing?" You laughed a little, still too afraid there was some kind of catch. An inevitable "but" that would show up and spoil the sweetness.

"No." Joe smiled, shaking his head. "No, not just to remind you of those things." His eyes searched your face, and there was no time to save the way your stomach filled with waves that reached your heart.

"Do you realize what you're saying right now?" You asked in a nervous waver.

"Yes. Everything I never got to before... and worried I might never get too."

You kept your gaze locked on Joe as he swallowed and looked to you in a way he never had before.

"All I'm saying is that I can't imagine I'll ever feel this way about anyone else, ever. And I don't want you to leave, at least not like last time. Preferably, nothing like last time. I liked you before I even knew who you were. That minute before I knew about Gwil. And even after then, too. And just thinking about letting you get away a second time kind of makes me want to cry. I'll understand if you think I'm fucking insane from now on, but... I don't want you to go."

"Where would you rather I be?" You dared to ask in a hush. You could make out Joe's piercing hope filled expression in the dim kitchen, but you couldn't believe he was looking to you like he had all those times before, still.

"With me." Joe said.

"You can't be serious." After everything? Even now?

"I've quite literally never wanted anything more."

Then, you thought, If he let all those months go by with time enough to grow resentment toward you, he didn't. He had time to find someone much more worthy of his adoration, but he didn't. He said he wanted you, perhaps more fiercely than he had when you collided for the first time. But there had to be a catch.

"Gwil will always be around." You reasoned. He was your rock. He was every bit of parent you couldn't be on your own. You weren't about to let go of his helping hand.

"He's my best friend." Joe shrugged.

"And Olive-"

"Wouldn't have it any other way." Joe grinned. And for another while, as you pitched cons, Joe batted back pros. He reasoned with all of your outlandish what if's and put all of your thought up worries to rest.

"And what do you suppose we do now, then?" You asked, in one final attempt to find a fault in his desperation. A crack in the daydream that was seeping into real life.

"We can figure it out as we go. I waited this long without you, what's a little while longer with us finally on the same page?"

You went quiet, searching Joe's pretty, stubble covered face. You'd already made up your mind long ago, hadn't you?

"Okay. I have at least seven hundred more questions... but okay."

"Yeah?" Joe asked like he couldn't believe he'd talked you into it.

"Yeah." You sat up a little, feeling more at ease than you maybe ever had.

"Well now I really don't want you to go." Joe grinned, drawing his brows close as he realized just because you'd decided to work through things didn't mean they'd get easier in a flash.

"Then..." You decided, because you'd done more than enough procrastinating and debating, "Why don't you stay?"

Because this might be it for a while... but you were damned and determined to make it better than ever before. "I agree that we shouldn't just jump into things..." You explained, considering your mission to move house and Joe's pending trip back to the US. "But I think you'd better kiss me, now."

Joe must not have wanted to waste another second, either. He leaned in before you'd even finished speaking. But just like before, when he'd almost kissed you, he moved slow. And you felt his breath fan over your face. But instead of lunging away, Joe kept inching closer until your lips collided. And then he kissed you the way you always dreamed he would. You kissed him back with every bit of stored up feeling you could pull out in such a hurry. It was a sweet kiss. A long time coming. It was a moment you could have frozen and stayed in, content. But it grew and grew, like the unstoppable way forests take over old roads once there was nothing stopping their sprouting.

Joe reached out, his fingers disappearing into your hair as you kissed him like your life depended on it. You couldn't stop the way you were drawn to him, not anymore. It was impossible to tell who moved first; if Joe yanked you closer or if you'd flung yourself into his lap. All you knew was that's where you ended up, and where you longed to stay for the rest of time.

You were too entirely lost in the way his mouth opened against yours. All you could focus on was how he'd kept you so close when the pair of you moved from the kitchen to the guest bedroom. It was some kind of miracle your head was clear enough to lock the door after Joe kicked it shut and pushed you against it.

You'd wanted this for so long. You'd always wondered what Joe's lips might taste like every time he stretched a smile across the same room as you. You'd pushed away daydreams every time his eyes locked on yours and lingered long enough for you to get lost in.

Now you didn't have to wonder what he might whisper in your ear, or the way his fingers felt against your skin. You got to know what it was like to look in Joe's fossil eyes, before they rolled back while you settled into his lap. You got to run your fingers through his hair and take a deep breath, thinking back to all those little times you'd dared to wonder about a time like this before. You'd always been so certain and scared it wasn't in the cards. But in the span of an evening long conversation, you were sorted. How could it have been so easy? How could it be real?

"I've wanted to be with you for so long." You whispered, hoping Joe knew exactly what you meant. The way you spoke of so much in one statement. You ran a set of fingers through his copper hair, trying to ground yourself from getting lost in the worry you'd become so accustomed too.

"I'm all yours." He assured, speaking in the way he did, that used to make you wonder if his tone was just in your head. It couldn't have been the case, you realized. Not when he spoke low in your ear in the same way, now. Maybe there was lots more to figure out. But this was more than enough for now. It was enough to accept the way he wanted you. And Joe must have really wanted you by the way he'd grabbed hold of you and moved to prove it. You knew better than to take a nanosecond for granted. You knew to relish the way Joe glistened before you. You swore through your fluttering lashes you spotted a halo. Even if it was a ring of light cast from the bedside table- it fit Joe's crown well.

///

Lucy came home long after you'd fallen asleep. The beaming of her headlights through the curtains and the sound of her car door shutting and locking roused you from slumber, barely. All you registered was her homecoming, and Joe’s arms and legs tangled up with yours. The pace of his gentle breathing at your side sent you back to sleep just as peacefully.

When you woke up again, with this rising sun, Joe was still out cold. You could hear Lucy humming in the kitchen, knocking about pans like she had the morning before. So you decided to take the cue to greet the day. You scurried to the en suite, tamed your hair and waltzed out to find what your friend was cooking up.

You had half the mind to scold Lucy for abandoning you, last afternoon. But she always had a knack for gifting her friends exactly what they needed, even if they hadn't really asked, hadn't she?

"You're up early for someone who was out so late." You playfully jabbed, shuffling past Lucy whose pretty face lit up upon seeing you. She stood near the stove, fussing over pancake batter and a tin of blueberries.

You were already halfway through your mission to pour a cup of coffee from the fresh pot across the room, as Lucy greeted you warmly as ever. She rambled for a bit about taking Rami's brother to dinner when his flight got delayed. You turned from resting your piping hot mug on the table in time to notice Joe had awoken, and was leaning against the frame of the kitchen doorway.

"Pancakes? Nice." He stifled a yawn, dressed in the joggers he'd worn the day before. Lucy spun on her heels with a startled yelp at the sound of his voice over her shoulder. Her tin of blueberries went flying, and you managed to catch it before too many tumbled to the tile floor. Lucy let out a string of curses, and a few steady breaths, as Joe was quick to apologize for scaring her into making a mess, crouching to collect the few stray blueberries as you handed Lucy the tin with the smallest grin. She returned your smirk before shrugging back to the stove.

"Breakfast for three, then." She said, obviously trying to keep an excited squeal at bay.

You poured two more cups of coffee and settled in for the most important meal of the day. While you ate, Lucy sat back, demanding to know what was going on. You and Joe traded between turns explaining, telling how you'd talked through most everything last night. How you had lots left to talk about, and lots to decide. But that you'd agreed to figure it out as a pair along the way.

After you'd finished your story, and thanked her for making breakfast Lucy dramatically wiped a faux tear from her eye. She stood to collect your empty plates, and urged you to get ready. Apparently, she'd gone all out, booking a day out on the town for the two of you.

"Sorry Joseph, but I've called dibs on this cutie. You can hang around here if you'd like. I'm sure we'll be seeing lots of you this weekend either way." Lucy giggled, yanking you through the kitchen door and toward your guest room.

As you rushed to fix yourself up and finished your makeup in the spacious en suite, Joe slipped in to tell you goodbye. He collected his wallet from the bedside table while you asked what he was up to today, only a little gutted to part ways.

"I've actually got plans with Ben." Joe rose a brow, leaning against the sink as you tore your gaze from your reflection and uttered a worried "Oh."

"I'll talk to him, okay?" Joe nodded. He'd been so certain last night, that Ben would come around. You'd been accepting of the fact that might not be true, but now the same fact worried you worse than before.

"Okay." You agreed with caution, turning to evaluate your reflection once more. Then you glanced to Joe's image in the same mirror, already missing him. Already anxious about the next steps you'd decide to take together. Everything between you and Joe happened pretty quickly, after such a torturous build up. But now you were back to taking it slow. You knew that was for the best. You knew Joe was worth it.

"See ya later?" You gave a small shrug, unsure of the proper parting phrase, after the conclusions you'd come too.

"No doubt." Joe smiled, pressed a quick kiss to your hair, and spun out of the room, yelling for Lucy to come and tell him goodbye. You didn't have a reason to suppress the butterflies in your stomach as you perfected your lipstick. You simply enjoyed how light your feet felt as you glided into another bright day.

///

Lucy dragged you from shop windows, to expensive stores. She pulled you along to try free samples of sweets and insisted you try on a pair of shoes that couldn't fit her feet, or your plebeian budget. You ordered tea and stopped in the middle of streets and markets to laugh until it hurt. When you'd wound up in the middle of a manicure with a glass of wine and a couple of nail techs who were eager to gossip with you; you had to stop from pinching yourself and messing up your fresh polish.

Lucy kept bringing up Joe, and all the times she'd caught him staring at you. All the times she thought she'd notice you stare back. She reckoned it was a good thing you'd finally found a way to go about giving each other a chance, no matter how strongly things came to be. She agreed fate was at hand. And so did you, because as you spoke so liberally of the lad, you seemed to summon a text message from him.

Joe: Ben wants you to meet up with us for dinner. He promises not to be mean anymore.

You read the message aloud to Lucy whose eyes grew wide. Your nails were dry by then, as you strolled about the city together. She insisted you skip her movie night plans, nudging you to agree and work things out with everyone's favorite stubborn blonde. You asked if she was really sure. Because you'd already missed one night of fun you could have had together. Lucy figured you could make up for it in the next night and a half you were still around, making loose plans to see each other in the near future all the same.

You admired Lucy's tenacious and tireless efforts at preserving your friendship, and agreed to see her later in the evening.

///

It was the same restaurant you'd come to that first night you met everyone. You couldn't be sure if the boys picked it on purpose, or if it was really the only nice joint open at such an hour. You glided through the doors with a keen chuckle. No matter how or why, everything seemed to come full circle. And with that you'd always be certain.

Ben and Joe were lingering near the back, at a table in the least bust section of the place. You noticed them notice you, and held your breath as your feet traveled closer. One thousand versions of the same sorry came to mind, as you felt Ben's eyes on you. The thing's he'd spat your way echoed in your head. You hated to think you hurt his feelings, broken his heart.

When you were close enough to open your mouth and say all the things Ben deserved to hear, you didn't get too. Because Ben stood up, and spoke first.

"I'm sorry." He croaked, reaching to pull you into a hug without question. You were stunned, for a second, but hugged him back tight. His jumper smelled like expensive cologne and his arms nearly squeezed your shoulders out of place. You tried to hug him back with matched intensity.

"Well, I'm still sorry too." You spoke, voice muffled by his jumper. "I did a stupid thing. One that could have been fixed a bunch of times."

You pulled away to look at the handsome guy you'd always been so humbled to call a friend.

"But you did it for Gwil." Ben nodded, giving your shoulders a final squeeze. He gestured for you to sit, and you followed his lead as Ben said something more.

"I'm not sorry for being angry. But I am sorry for how I acted and the things I said."

You shook your head, feeling the warm sting of tears press against the back of your eyes. "I deserved to hear those things. I needed someone to tell me how stupid I was being."

Ben commiserated and wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you leaned in for another hug. You'd missed his company so dearly, you missed how passionately Ben cared. He promised he'd always be around to knock some sense into your head.

"And anyway... all is well now, from what I hear?" Ben shrugged as you sniffled and cast a glare across the table to Joe, who was waggling his brow and sipping some fruity drink.

"I wish things were always this easy." You let out an airy laugh, reaching for the menu that listed the drinks.

"I'm just glad they finally are. Let's drink." Ben snatched the list from your grasp as you laughed, settling into your new reality. It wasn't much different from the one you'd known and loved, after all. After ordering, you dodged a couple of very embarrassing questions from Ben, and managed to talk Joe out of answering them. The three of you chatted most about the way things had been. Your favorite parts of the month you'd spent with Olive in tow. The boys claimed to miss her, but neither more than you.

Then Ben got a call from Rami. And through a short conversation you only heard one side of, you came to understand the leading man was coming to crash your dinner party. This was of course good news. You weren't sure you'd get the chance to see him again before the weekend was up, let alone spend with the cast you'd come to know and love all at once.

You weren't surprised to see Lucy had tagged along with her man. She cast him across the table next to Joe, so she could sit next to you and complain about the way she'd already chipped a very expensive nail.

"Somebody better call Gwil, he can't be the only one left out. Imagine the Instagram comment's he'd leave out of spite." Lucy piped up, glancing across the table full of your favorite people. Joe was first and fastest to volunteer, putting Gwil on speaker to overwhelm the guy with plea's from across your table for him to come and join.

When he finally showed up, and your waiter took everyone's orders, everything finally felt normal again. You sat in the middle of your five favorite people, arguing over each other, stealing chips, sharing laughs. And all the tension from before vanished. You hadn't realized how all captivating the stress from before had been, until you'd settled into peace. Until you felt Joe's knee knock against yours while he grinned as if to ensure he'd meant to catch your attention. You'd smiled back before taking a swing of your liquor for good luck, hoping a silent toast to the feelings that spread in your chest when you caught Joe staring you, would superstitiously keep those glances coming.

When you'd down a couple of drinks and Lucy had switched seats to take some ridiculous photo with Joe, you'd been instructed to use your phone to capture the moment. When you blindly reached into your bag, you pulled out something that wasn't at all what you'd been looking for.

It was Olive's beloved toy bat. The one she'd throw a fit over if it wasn't in view. The toy had been lost in your purse the whole time you'd been away from the girl. You locked wide eyes with Gwilym across the table and each of you let out an "oh shit" in unison.

He'd already been clutching his phone, giving you a look you knew meant he was checking in with the group chat that himself, James, and Andy made up three fourths of. Having been put ever so slightly at ease, you snapped the photos of Lucy and Joe toasting their drinks to each other- for good luck, you decided.

Before you could toss your phone away, it buzzed to life with a message from your flatmates. You checked in a hurry to make sure their world wasn't turned upside down by the baby they were sitting who was missing her prized possession.

The first message was a photo of your daughter, curled up at Andy's side, the stuffed penguin from the London Aquarium tucked under her other arm.

James: Think she's got a new favorite anyhow!

You smiled to yourself, tucking your phone away. Gwil would see, and be put at ease when he checked his end of the group chat later. For now, he was debating the best kinds of breakfast foods with Rami and Joe, each steadfast in their answers. The lot of you stayed there until Ben was slurring about Frankenstein, and Lucy had waited long enough for her one drink to wear off.

Gwil left you with the promise he'd see you again in a couple of days to give you a lift to the train station. Rami and Ben took turns trading hugs with you and everyone else, before piling in to head home.

Lucy corralled you and Joe to her car, insisting to both of you that Ben and Rami couldn't hear your exaggerated ongoing goodbyes from inside the car they drove off in.

And when the three of you piled into her ride, Lucy made plans to keep on drinking, and watch a few bad movies together, while you still had the time. She invited Joe to join in, not because she was quite keen to spend all night hearing his drunken rambles, but because she knew you were. He worried that he didn't have proper movie night attire, and Lucy insisted she could loan him some of Rami's joggers. You were buzzed enough to lean a little closer to whisper something in Joe's ear about not needing to worry about wearing any clothes, later. The two of you subdued snickers like a couple of virgin teenagers.

But it still took Joe the whole ride to Lucy's to gain the courage to hold your hand. And when his fingers laced through yours, you dared not let go for the rest of the evening. You were determined to hold on for the rest of the weekend. For the rest of forever. You weren't about to let Joe slip away, no matter what happened next. You were in it together, now.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

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