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rickie-the-storyteller · 1 year

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Steph's Crew - Part 10: Times are Changing

Intro:

This may be the longest part yet lol.

Last time, Dylan was debating running away from home because his family situation is stressing him out. This part is going to have the resolution for that whole thing. Plus, Bret starts getting himself back on track once and for all. All by himself, too, because Elise isn't really on the best of terms with him rn. This will get resolved here too.

This part isn't really going to feature Steph, btw (she has a small bit here, but nothing particularly important to the story). Which is crazy considering the fact that this is the 10-chapter mark lol. Don't worry, next time we're getting another traumatic Mel flashback to make up for it! Yay!

(Bret talking with El for the first time in a while)

Dylan on the run

Dylan: (calling his uncle) Hi, Uncle Frank. It's me, Dylan.

Frank: Hey, Dylan! It's always good to hear from you. What's up?

Dylan: Oh, nothing much really… um, how are you?

Frank: I'm good, kid. I'm good. Are you doing ok? You sound freaked out…

Dylan: I need to stay with you. I can't be here!

Frank: Uh, what?

Dylan: (stammering) I-I… I was wondering if I could come and stay with you for a bit?

Frank: Dylan, what's going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?

Dylan: No, no. Nothing like that. I just need to get away for a bit. Mum's moving away and getting married again, Dad's being a jerk, and my brother's driving me crazy. I just need some time away, you know?

Frank: Oh, kid… I'm sorry. But Dylan, I'm not at home right now. I'm in Idaho with Auntie Rochelle.

Dylan: What?! Why?

Frank: A close friend of hers has sadly passed away recently, I'm trying to help her deal. I'm sorry, but I'm stuck here, kid. It's not like I can get back to the UK right now to take care of you.

Dylan: …Why not?

Frank: Dylan-

Dylan: Can't you try to get back here? For me? You don't need to be back today… Just say that I can stay with you. Say that I'm allowed to stay with you!

Frank: Dylan, please listen-

Dylan: Say that you'll help, Uncle Frank. I need you to do this for me.

Frank: Dylan, I'm sorry, but it's just not practical right now. For me or for you.

Dylan: Please! It's not an ideal situation, I know, but I promise I'll make it worth your while. I'll be the best guest you've ever had. I'll do laundry, cook, anything you want.

Frank: Dylan, it's not about that. It's just a long way away from where you live, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to be so far from home. I mean, you go to school there. And your father will worry… and Sam is going to really miss you. Won't you miss them?

Dylan: They're the reason I want to leave! Come on, Uncle Frank. You know you want me. We'd have the best time together, you'll see-

Frank: Dylan, I'm sorry. But I can't. I can't let you stay with me.

Dylan: (wells up with tears) What?

Frank: I'm so sorry, kid. But hey, if you ever need someone to talk to, you can call me anytime, okay?

Dylan: Yeah, okay. I guess I can try and figure something else out. Thanks anyways, Uncle Frank. I love you.

Frank: I love you too, kid. You're going to be ok.

(Dylan hangs up and starts to cry)

Elise's study room

Bret: Hey Adam. I'm really sorry about that vase man. I know it was important to your sister and your parents, so I'm assuming it was special to you, too. I feel like a total douchebag for breaking it…

Adam: Oh, don't worry about it. I mean sure, it's a very important vase, but it's not like I need materialistic objects to help me remember how great my grandparents were. I never really understood the hype around family heirlooms.

Bret: (surprised) Wow, really? Huh. (pauses) I still feel bad, though.

Adam: I get it. Poor Ellie has clearly been holding in that rant for a while now. But look on the bright side - she also said that she didn't want to cut you off. I'd take that as a win if I were you. Give her some space, and I'm sure that with time, the two of you can patch up your relationship!

Bret: It's not just that… I mean, it is that. But it's everything else, too. El was right. I talk a big game, but I don't follow through. I make promises to myself, and to others… and I never keep them. She said that I let her down. And it's true. I did let her down - I let people down all the time. I never think properly before I act… I hurt my friends… and just people in general.

Adam: Dude, relax. It's ok. You know, the first step to solving a problem is admitting that you have a problem. You're practically halfway there, which is further than the starting point. That's a good thing!

Bret: But I don't know how to fix it. What can I do to make things better? Ellie was always the one that helped me. She told me what to do, and I did it. Most of the time. Now that she's out, who's going to be my coach?

Adam: Hmmm... maybe the reason why things didn't work out with her is because you guys were meant to be friends, but you viewed and treated her as a coach and nothing more. But you know what? It's ok. You don't need a coach. You can coach yourself.

Bret: How?

Adam: With knowledge, my friend. Lots and lots of knowledge.

(Adam takes Bret to the "Study Room" - a small room with a neat and tidy desk, a computer, a printer and a large bookcase completely filled with books)

Adam: This place will have the answers you need to solve your problems. Probably.

Bret: Wow. What's all this?

Adam: This is Elise's study space. I set it up when I first moved here so that she could have a nice place to read and work when she comes to visit. It's great! I even use it when she's not around. It has all the essentials: a snack space, a comic book drawer, a music player so that she can put on some classical music to focus, a-

Bret: Wait! El likes comic books?

Adam: Oh, yeah. She's always been a big fan. Me, too! Something we've always had in common.

Bret: (stunned) I like comics, too…

Adam: Great! You two can discuss it when you start hanging out again.

Bret: IF we start hanging out again…

Adam: Aw, come on! Nothing but positive vibes!

Dylan calls Alice for help

Dylan: (calling Alice) Hello? Alice?

Alice: Hey Dylan! What's up with you? You sound like you've been crying.

Dylan: Yeah, my uncle just told me he can't take me in. He said it's too far away and he's not in a position to have me stay with him.

Alice: Oh no, Dylan I'm so sorry. What are you going to do?

Dylan: I don't know. I was really counting on him. I really thought that this could be my way out of here…

Alice: Well, you can always stay with me. My parents won't mind, I promise.

Dylan: Really? You would do that for me?

Alice: Of course I would. We're friends, Dylan. And friends take care of each other. You can stay in our guest room, there should be plenty of space.

Dylan: Thank you so much, Alice. You're a lifesaver!

Alice: No problem. Just don't get too comfortable, I'm not the best housekeeper.

Dylan: Alright. (they both laugh) Thanks again, Alice. I really appreciate this, you have no idea.

Alice: Anytime, Dylan. See you in a bit.

Aunt Rachel's words of wisdom

Bret: (calling Rachel) Hey Aunt Rach, it's me!

Rachel: (laughs) Bret! Hi. What's going on? Where are you?

Bret: At Elise's brother's place. I'm having a bit of a study session right now, believe it or not. He's got tons of great resources. (sighs) It's been a crazy week, Aunt Rach. I messed up big time at the party.

Rachel: Oh no… wait what happened, exactly?

Bret: I broke Elise's vase, and she's really mad at me. And I got into a fight with another one of my friends, too - Alice is upset because I purposely avoided including her. I'm the reason Dylan didn't invite her to Ben's party.

Rachel: Well, did you apologise to them?

Bret: I have apologised to El. I remembered she has a brother, so I went to his place and found her there.

Rachel: And?

Bret: Let's just say she wasn't too happy to see me.

Rachel: Aw… Not that I can blame her, but still.

Bret: (sighs) Yeah. She's still upset, but at least she was willing to hear me out. And I've been trying to call and text Alice, but she hasn't responded yet.

Rachel: (laughs) Don't worry, dear. Things will work out eventually with them, it just needs time.

Bret: Yeah, I know. But I'm worried, Aunt Rach. My friends mean so much to me. Especially El. She's always been there for me, and I don't want to lose her.

Rachel: I know, Bret. But maybe this could be a good thing for you. Maybe this is a chance for you to really think about your relationships with... certain friends.

Bret: Uhh… what do you mean?

Rachel: I don't know… I just couldn't help but notice how much you're stressing out about losing Elise as a friend. It sounds to me like you have a lot of admiration for her.

Bret: I do admire her.

Rachel: She's really special to you, isn't she?

Bret: Yeah! She really is. She's been there for me through thick and thin, you know? She always encourages me to open up, and she helps me a lot when I need support with stuff. She inspires me to be a better person. Spending time with her brings me joy. And she's like, one of the few people in my life that always kind of stuck around, whether I deserved it or not. She's the only one who really gets me…

Rachel: Well, you need to make it up to her somehow. Elise is one of the most important people in your life, and you can't risk losing her over a silly mistake.

Bret: For once, I actually agree with you, Aunt Rach. Thanks for the advice. Still not sure what you meant, though. About the "thinking about my relationships with certain friends" thing.

Rachel: Right… well you know, sometimes we don't fully realise how we feel about someone until something like this happens. Sometimes we can't comprehend our feelings for someone until we're at risk of losing them.

Bret: Wait, what?! You think that- (laughs) Aunt Rach, you know I don't like Elise like that.

Rachel: (smirks) Are you sure about that, Bret? Maybe you're just afraid of your feelings.

Bret: I don't know, Aunt Rachel. I've never really thought of El that way before.

Rachel: Well, it's worth thinking about, isn't it? Elise is a wonderful person. And you clearly hold her in high regard… those kinds of feelings towards a person often develop into affection.

Bret: No way! She's just a friend. A really good friend. But a friend.

Rachel: Uh-huh, sure. Look, Bret, I'm not saying you have to declare your undying love for her or anything, but maybe it's time to start considering the possibility that you might like her more than you realise. I mean, you just gave a speech about why you like her…

Bret: As a friend!

Rachel: (sighs, shaking her head) Whatever, Bret. It was just a suggestion… What time will you be back?

Bret: Well, I'm just finishing up here… should make it home in time for dinner.

Rachel: Good. See you in a bit!

Back in school

Stephanie: HEY! Dylan! (runs over to him and gives him a big hug) I am so relieved… Glad to see you didn't run away to another county, mate.

Dylan: (chuckles) Yeah, I had a change of heart. Plus, Uncle Frank wasn't available. But I'm staying at Ally's place for the time being.

Stephanie: Oh, well that's good. I'm just so happy to see you safe. And still in school with us.

Dylan: I'm happy to be here, too. So, prom is coming up… got any plans?

Stephanie: (sighs) I don't know. (laughs humourlessly) What about you?

Dylan: Nothing official yet. But I'm thinking about asking Alice to go with me.

Stephanie: Oh my God, that's so exciting! You should definitely do it.

Dylan: Yeah, I really want to. Don't tell her that, though. I want it to be a surprise.

Stephanie: Don't worry, I won't.

Dylan: I'm just so grateful to her for helping me through all this. I mean, she doesn't even need to… she's doing this because she cares about me. I just wanted to do something for her, too.

(Stephanie smiles at Dylan, clearly excited for him)

Alice: (walks in with a smile) Guys, guess what? I got an A on my computing project and my teacher submitted it to a competition!

Stephanie: Wow, that's amazing, Alice!

Dylan: Uh, yeah! That's great, you should be proud of yourself.

Alice: I am!

Stephanie: You got any prom plans, Alice?

(Dylan glares at her)

Alice: Uh, no… nothing yet. Why? Don't you have plans, Steph?

Stephanie: Funny you should say that. Guys, I have some bad news. I hope all of you are listening. Ellie, Bret, I'm talking to you, too. Quit acting like strangers and gather around. I'm only saying this once, so pay attention.

(Elise and Bret, who are sitting on opposite sides of the room, stop doing what they're doing and start paying attention to the conversation)

Stephanie: Unfortunately, I won't be going to prom this year.

Dylan: What?

Elise: Why not?

Stephanie: Ben's out of the country doing his job, and I just can't bring myself to go without him. It's too depressing, you know?

Alice: Aww, that sucks…

Bret: But we'll still have a good time without you. (the rest of the group glare at Bret for his badly worded comment) On your behalf, I mean.

Alice: Oh Steph, it's not going to be the same without you. (hugs her)

Stephanie: I do want all of you to have fun, though! Don't worry about me too much, guys.

Bret and Elise make up (a few weeks later)

Bret: (immediately lights up when he sees Elise) Hey, El.

Elise: Hey. (smiles)

Bret: So… (awkwardly) I haven't seen you around for a while. How have you been?

Elise: Fine. Busy. (chuckles nervously) I just got back from this week-long debate trip with our school’s team.

Bret: Right! I’ve heard about that competition. You guys came third! That’s hella cool. Congrats.

Elise: (blushes) Thanks, Bret. And you? What have you been up to lately? How have you been?

Bret: Busy.

Elise: Oh?

Bret: Yeah, I’ve been trying to get back on track. I’ve spent the last couple of days trying to make amends.

Elise: (surprised) Really? Wait, who with?

Bret: People I’ve wronged. So everyone, pretty much.

Elise: (taken aback) Wow…

Bret: I’ve been more helpful around the house as a way to make things easier for my aunt… you know, to make up for not really appreciating her in the past. And it’s fun, too. Spending more time with her and all.

Elise: That’s nice…

Bret: I’ve volunteered to be a student mentor for the younger years to be more helpful to the teachers at school. I assist in lessons and make sure that the classrooms are clean and tidy. Only when I have free time though. And I’ve patched things up with Alice, too.

Elise: Thank God.

Bret: Yeah. And I apologised to your parents about the vase. So, they know it’s not your fault and all. I’m even paying to sort it out. Either get it fixed or replace it, whatever you guys want.

Elise: Well thanks, Bret, that’s really nice of you. But how are you getting the money? That vase was one of a kind, it would probably be very expensive to replace…

Bret: Oh, I got a job this week too. Did I not mention that?

Elise: Wow, really? You got a job?! Finally, it’s about time.

Bret: Yeah! And I am working on getting my driver's license by the end of the year.

Elise: (impressed) My gosh, Bret… you’re really doing it. You’re changing your life. I’m so proud of you. Really. (smiles)

Bret: I couldn’t have done it without you, you know. You’ve really inspired me. I couldn’t be more grateful to have someone like you in my life.

Elise: (blushes) Aw… Thanks, man. (playfully jabs him on the shoulder) I love being your friend, too.

Bret: (smiles, then sighs) I’ve really missed you, Elise.

Elise: I’ve missed you, too.

Bret: (hesitantly) Do you think- Maybe could we- Um… Can we start hanging out again? You know, like old times. You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to.

Elise: (thinks about it, then smiles) I’d love to.

Bret: (shocked, but happy) Woah, really?! I mean, great! Let’s get together this weekend, I’ve been dying to see this movie with someone, but nobody’s interested.

Elise: (laughs) Maybe there’s a reason for that, Bret.

Bret's feelings for Elise

Bret: (walks in, dropping backpack on the floor) Hey, Aunt Rach! I'm home.

Rachel: Hello, darling. (gives Bret a hug)

Bret: (smiling) Guess what happened today?

Rachel: What is it, Bret?

Bret: I ran into Elise! And we talked for a while. We're talking again!

Rachel: Aw, that's wonderful.

Bret: I've missed her a lot, man. It was so great to catch up with her.

Rachel: Well, I'm glad you had a good time, love. (teasingly) Did you finally ask her out, or what?

Bret: What the- no, Aunt Rach. We're just friends. I told you…

Rachel: Look honey, I'm not shaming you for having a crush on a girl. Having a crush is a completely normal thing. Just be honest with yourself about how you feel, dear.

Bret: I am being honest… and to answer your question, no I haven't asked her out. I am going to be hanging out with her on Saturday. We're going to see that new Dragon Hunter movie together. You know, the one I've been dying to see for months. I finally have someone to go with!

Rachel: That counts as a date! Doesn't it?

Bret: No, Aunt Rach. It doesn't. Neither of us used the word "date" during the conversation, so it isn't a date. It's just two friends catching up. That's all.

Rachel: But-

Bret: Now if you'll excuse me, I have homework to do. (walks away)

Rachel: (follows) I know you like her, Bret! You've liked her forever.

Bret: (shouts from the other room) I'm not listening anymore, Aunt Rach!

Rachel: You sure you don't have a crush on her, hun? I mean, you light up like a Christmas tree every time you talk about her.

Bret: Shut up!

Rachel: And you talk about her a lot, too. Almost constantly. Always good things.

Bret: SHUT UP!

Rachel: I bet that's because you think about her constantly, too. Maybe you even dream about her…

Bret: ALRIGHT!!

(long pause)

Rachel: Alright?

Bret: Alright… maybe I do like her.

Rachel: (whoops triumphantly) I KNEW IT!

Bret: I mean, maybe she's a bit cute. And maybe I've thought about her in that way before… once or twice. But I don't know if I'm ready to tell her that I like her like that yet.

Rachel: Oh, why not?

Bret: Our relationship has been through a lot. I have known her since primary school, for fucks sake! And we've only recently come out of an argument. I'm not ready for such a huge change with her, and I'm pretty sure she'd feel the same way.

Rachel: Right. Well, you shouldn't do anything you're not comfortable with doing… just be yourself, dear.

Bret: (sighs) Everyone always says that…

Rachel: Honey, I know you're probably worried that she won't like you back, especially after everything that went down between you two recently. But think about this: if she likes you for who you are, then it's great. If not, it's not the end of the world. Just enjoy the time you spend together and see where it goes. Don't put pressure on yourself to make things work out. Just have fun with your friend.

Bret: (nods) Yeah.

Rachel: She's lucky to have a friend like you, you know. I mean you're a really great guy, and you've been working so hard to better yourself. Just be yourself with her, and don't be afraid to tell her how you feel, when the time comes. Or if it ever comes. And don't forget to treat her with respect and kindness. It goes a long way.

Bret: Alright…

Rachel: Oh, I'm so proud of you! And I'm excited, too.

Bret: I can tell…

Rachel: (squeals) This is so great!

Bret: (playfully shoves her) Calm down, Aunt Rach. (pauses) Thanks for the advice. (smiles)

That's enough for now. Yay! The tenth part of this story is out.

How do we feel about the new ships in this lol?! Bret and Elise are the ship I was trying to set up from the start (basically), while Dylan and Alice kind of started happening a little while later… to be honest, I'm kind of second-guessing myself with them. Part of me wants to make them a proper ship, but another part of me just wants to keep them platonic. We'll see which part of me wins in the end lol.

Dylan has a place to stay, and Alice has made up with him (and Bret, but that was done in the background lol). Meanwhile, Bret is getting his life together independently. And he has finally made up with Elise! I'm glad. I mean, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

And Rachel has made Bret realise that he likes Elise. Like, romantically. Which again, I knew I was planning for that all along, but I honestly don't know what their dynamic will be like once they actually get together lol. We'll see where it all goes eventually…

Thanks for reading, guys.

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nikatyler · 2 years

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𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟚 🌊 𝕧𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕟

at last, you’re mine. what if nerine had gotten what she’d wanted back in 2019?

9/? for 31 Days of Mermaids by @incandescentsims.

#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #31 days of Merfolk #31 days of Merfolk 2022 #mermay #rose legacy extra #regan rose #nerine #obviously they both look different because i cba to download hair recolours lol #anyway. if you remember that story. uh. yay? thanks for being here for this long i guess #i haven't reread it in ages but from what i remember it wasn't too bad #of course there are things i'd change today #but yeah. i still like nerine as a villain

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

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The Island | KTH (Four)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) implied sex

Notes: this is not a reflection of Taehyung’s art! Just saying lol But anyway, hope you guys like this chapter. Tae and oc sure have a lot of moments huh. let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @getmemyfries @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev

Previous --- Next

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

Month 4

“What the fuck is that?” You point accusingly towards the paper Taehyung is excitedly holding up.

“What do you mean,” he grins. “It’s you!”

“…throw it away.”

“What?! No! I worked hard on this!”

“I look like a god damn frog.”

“In the painting or in real life becau—"

“THE PAINTING!” You leap towards Taehyung and reach for his atrocious artwork. Can he even call this disaster art? No offense, no actually, full offense but its ugly as hell. Taehyung lifts it high above his head.

“Listen, listen…don’t you think this hurts my feelings a little y/n? I worked hard on th—”

“I swear to God Taehyung…if you don’t burn this—"

“OKAY OKAY! No need to put out threats!” he pouts almost theatrically. You eye him up and down, waiting for him to make a move towards a trashcan but he just stands here.

“Well? Go throw it away.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Yeah, no.”

You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose, “What do you mean no?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you and laughs under his breath as he steps closer to you.

“First of all, you don’t tell me what to do. I prefer if it’s the other way around.” He smirks, “And second, I am still going to keep it. For the memories.”

You chew on your lips for a few moments, letting his words sink in. But for the memories?

“For the memories? Why would you want to remember any of this?”

Taehyung frowns at your words, he looks genuinely offended.

“I might not like our situation but…”

“But what?”

“Fuck, don’t make me say it.” He says while turning red. “You know, I still want to make good memories with like, you.” He admits softly.

You finally give in, gently reaching for the awful artwork. Don’t get it wrong, Taehyung’s art is usually so beautiful. He does landscapes and abstract pieces and they absolutely blow you away. But his portraits of people? Disgusting.

“Fine…” You smile down at the painting in your hands then look back at him, “But if I see this hung up anywhere I am burning it myself.” You smirk. “And I will take great pleasure in that.”

“Oooooh please tell me more about your pleasures.” Taehyung wiggles his brows at you.

“You’re the worst.” you smile, “Anyway, do we have a deal?” you stick out your hand for him to shake.

“Deal!” Taehyung cheeses, slapping your hand down and going in for a quick hug instead. You’re surprised to say the least, you kind of guessed Taehyung was the affectionate type but you didn’t expect to be on the receiving end of it. “I’ll be in my art room most the day. Movie night though?”

“Yes, movie night.” you oblige.

“Yay.” He chirps happily, skipping off to his art room down the hall. You can’t help but smile as he disappears from your sight.

But then your heart pinches in your chest. You want to feel happy. Are you just ungrateful? You should be happy. Taehyung is finally being himself around you and you finally feel like you aren’t as alone. But it’s all a façade technically…he’s got no one else, just like you have no one else. In the real world…if you two met would you become friends like this? Or is this all forced? Is your entire friendship fake? You feel your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach, you hate these thoughts.

He’s so different than you thought he would be…he’s lighthearted, he’s funny, he’s silly, he’s talented, he’s human. And don’t even get started on flirty Taehyung…You really thought he was some closed off asshole but as time goes on and he becomes more and more comfortable you see the real him, and you really enjoy it. And you hate that you enjoy it. What are you like? Are you still a brat? Does he still think that? You chuckle to yourself, he probably does. Has he grown so comfortable with you that he’s not as angry about being stuck here with you? No, you imagine he’s still really upset about this whole thing. He just doesn’t voice it to you as much anymore. Maybe he’s avoiding the subject. You can understand why. It’s awkward. This place wants to get you two together but neither of you are interested in the other romantically. You just don’t see it happening.

~~~~~

Taehyung is just relaxing in his room on the verge of a glorious nap, he is finally dozing off, eyes slowly closing when his head snaps up in reaction to a loud crash coming from downstairs. Now what the hell could that be? Panicked, he rushes to his feet. He flies down the stairs in record time trying to find the source of the loud bang. He stands in the living room, glancing around the area for any sign of you. Are you okay? Where are you? Shit. Frustrated, he runs his fingers through his hair and as calmly as possible calls out for you. But nothing. Fuck. Your name slips past his lips in growing panic.

He decides he is going to charge each room in search for you, when he reaches the door to his art studio. He can hear muffled words on the other side of the door.

“Shit. Damn. Fuck.”

He instantly roll his eyes to the back of his head, literally so far back all that’s seen is the white of his eyes.

“Such foul language for such a pretty mouth.” He whispers to himself, slowly creeping the door open, exposing a distracted and distraught you.

“Motherfucker!” you huff, your hands on your hips, eyeing the mess you made. God damn did you make a fucking mess. On the floor is a canvas, brushes scattered and a rainbow of colors splattered all around.

“What. Are. You. Doing.”

Your head whips in his direction, your face turning many shades of reds. He stands at the doorway making his presence known, looking at you expectantly, judgement in his eyes. At least he hopes you can see the judgement in his eyes. Because he is definitely judging like hella hard.

You continue to stand here, your blush deepening. He is too frustrated to find it anything but annoying. You begin to stutter out words he can’t make out. You are trying your best, that much is obvious. You’re trying to explain yourself but he can tell you’re only becoming more and more flustered at the situation. He is sure his annoyed expression doesn’t help your ability to speak. Whoops.

“I-I was…well, you said, well remember you said…” You try. You really try. He almost wants to laugh, but not quite.

“I-I said? I said what?” He keeps his stoic demeanor intact, just stressing you further. He’s almost having fun with this. Almost.

“Well, Taehyung…listen,” you try again. “You said,”

“I said?”

Your eyes scan the room as if there’s something here that will help you.

“Words y/n. I need you to use your words.” He demands, maybe having a little fun stressing you out. He sees your blush become such a deep shade of red that even he feels embarrassed.

Finally, you releases a long breath and words begin spilling out of your mouth.

“You said you wanted to keep that frog picture—“

“Your portrait, you mean.”

“Yes, yes whatever. Anyway, you wanted to keep it for the memories, right? You…you…you’re sentimental like that or whatever.” You pause to take a breath. “And and…”

He raises a brow at you, taking a few steps forward, mindful of the mess you made.

“And?”

You raise your head to look into his eyes. You’re staring so intensely that he wonders where you got this wave of confidence from. He stares back just as seriously. Your eyes are the same as usual, dark, plain, boring. For the most part.

“And…I decided that maybe, that maybe I want to…paint you…too?” you step forward. “You know, for the memories.” You tear your eyes away from him. But he sort of wishes you didn’t.

His brows pinch together at your little idea. You want to paint him ? He studies your face seeing if maybe there’s anything else. You look tense under his gaze, he admits that makes him feel kind of good. Is that mean? You look so incredibly shy, and it is so fucking...something, he doesn’t know what but it’s something. He continues to observe you and your shy expressions.

He looks down at you and breaks into his best shit eating grin, his hand reaches down to ruffle your hair.

“Yes!” he lightly chuckles, “Let’s make lots of memories!”

It looks like you’re in a daze, his reaction catching you off guard, he guesses. Taking a moment to collect yourself, you look up into his eyes again.

“Yeah, lots of ‘em.” your smile slowly begins to fade, “We won’t be here forever, so we have to leave with lots of memories.” you mutter.

Taehyung feels himself go soft at your words.

“y/n…” he slides his fingers down to cup the back of your head, fingers gently massaging your scalp. “When this is all over…we can still be in contact, you know?” Your eyes travel to the floor, eyeing the mess you made. He’s still getting over that.

“I know…but Taehyung, I still feel like I don’t even know basic things about you! Like what even is your favorite, uh, I don’t know, animal? I can’t tell you how long I have been wondering that and—”

“Then let’s have a whole night dedicated to that. Let’s drink some wine, paint some pictures and learn everything there is to know!” he moves his hand forward, his fingers playing at the ends of your hair, “Like, what shampoo did they give you because your hair is soft as fuck.”

You give him an unimpressed look,

“I know you steal my shampoo sometimes, I’m not dumb.”

“Don’t know what you are talking about.” He cheeses.

“But okay,” you grin at him, “Let’s do that.”

“I love Koalas and sloths!” You’re laid out on your stomach, swinging your legs above you while sipping on your red wine.

“You can’t choose two!”

“I just did.”

“Fine. Mine is…drum roll…its…” he pats the floor repeatedly.

“Oh come on! Tell me! I’ve been dying to know!”

“Its…lion!” he lays next to you, resting on his side. He eyes the painting you are working on. It’s supposed to be him…supposed to be.

“I like lions too.” You add more color to the background of the canvas. He can hear the smile in your voice.

“Sheesh…and you think I am bad at drawing people…”

“Stop being a hater!”

“ME?” he stares at you incredulously.

You and Taehyung are a few glasses of wine in already. He can tell its hitting you harder than its hitting him, you’re extra talkative and all giggly. He’s painted a picture of the beach while you’ve worked on a portrait of him, it’s amusing to say the least—the portrait. Pretty quickly glasses turned into bottles. Bottle number 3 has been opened and now he is also talkative and all giggly. He’s a giggly lil thang when he’s drunk, and he is drunk.

“Okay,” he sits up, sitting on his legs. “First impression of me, go!” he laughs, for literally no reason.

“I thought you kidnapped me.” You state plainly, “So like, a creepy person.”

His jaw drops.

“I’m offended!” He lays his hand over his heart. “You thought I was creepy?! And there I was thinking you were just some hot chick I hooked up!” Yes, he called you hot to your face. He is drunk, he is allowed to do that. Yeehaw.

“Okay to be fair, that thought crossed my mind too.”

“That I was some hot chick you hooked up with?”

“I never said hot.”

“But you were thinking it, right right?” he wiggles his eyebrows in the most exaggerated way.

You smirk before chugging back the rest of your wine, reaching for a new bottle.

“Okay, maybe I thought it.” You admit, your sly smile growing.

“Want me to open it?” he gestures towards the wine bottle.

“Please.”

He reaches for the bottle of wine, his hands brushing against yours. He hates that he feels a quiet fire in his insides when he touches you. He hates how when his skin makes contact with your skin there is an automatic heat that lights up and warms him, burns him almost.

“Do you have someone? That you like?” You slur out, curious about Taehyung’s love life.

“…Yes.” Taehyung admits softly.

“I am what they call a ‘Dilf’” Jin states confidently. The rest of the boys share a look of confusion.

“You literally aren’t a dad?” Jimin looks at Jin with a puzzled smile.

“But you can’t tell me I am not a ‘dilf’ though.”

“Okay Jin, you’re a dilf.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, going back to his book.

“I wanna be a dilf too.” Jungkook whines and Taehyung nods his head in agreement. Jin shakes his fingers at the boys and speaks up.

“You have to earn the title.”

“Yeah, by being a dad.” Jimin deadpans.

“Let the man have his dreams.” Yoongi says before putting his ear bud back in his ear and nodding along to whatever song is playing.

“My dream is to finish this assignment.” Hobi groans into his pile of papers on the table.

“This is your fault for going back to school for your masters!” Taehyung teases. He has just recently dropped out of school and he is loving it. He watches as his friend works night after night on paper after paper and Taehyung no longer has to worry about things like that. He can just focus on the music.

“Are you guys using this chair?” Taehyung hears a sweet voice cut off all their chatter. He looks up to see this gorgeous girl with light brown hair that reaches her waist and eyes as bright as the sun.

“Uh, no.” Taehyung clears his throat, “You can take it.”

“Thanks.” She smiles at Taehyung and then at the rest of the boys before she’s dragging the chair to the table next to them.

“Holy shit.” Taehyung whispers to Jungkook, “She’s so pretty.”

“That’s Hana.” Jungkook looks over his shoulder at Hana and her friends. “I have a class with her.”

“Bro, introduce me!” Taehyung begs. “You literally owe me.”

“From what?!”

“I let you fuck that one chick like 2 years ago even though I saw her first.”

“Oh? You let me? Really?” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “But anyway, sure. I’ll introduce you.” He says nonchalantly, picking up his drinking and taking a sip.

“Taehyung?” you wave your hand in front of his blank face. “Taehyung?” “Huh? Yeah?” he starts snapping out of his memories, “what’s up? What did you say?”

“I asked her name.” you smile awkwardly, “The girl you like.”

“Hana.” He quietly clears his throat, “What about you? Do you have someone?”

“After my ex? I am staying away from men for a while.” You laugh, “Like, can you blame me?”

Taehyung can’t help by frown at your words.

“Don’t close yourself off…” Taehyung whispers to you. “You’re too pretty for that.” He slurs out and you blink at him repeatedly.

“I’m pretty?”

Taehyung scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully.

“Like you didn’t know.”

Hours pass you two by, more wine has been drank and you two are giggling like school children. Taehyung is folded over, laughing a storm as you do your best impression of a dolphin. You can’t help but fall over and laugh your head off as well, the alcohol obviously has made you two crazy.

Taehyung finally calms down and looks at you with soft eyes, “So, what’s your biggest fear?” he asks, leaning forward.

“No!” you laugh. Fucking laugh. “Listen, we can go back to our serious convos another day…right now I wanna…” you slur your last words, “wanna talk about fun stuff.” you give him the most sleazy wink he’s ever seen. It kind of works for him though.

“Okay.” He agrees easily, “Tell me the story about how you lost your virginity? Don’t leave anything out”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “Wanna know the dirty details huh?” you part your lips and smile.

“Dirty? I bet it was as vanilla as vanilla gets.”

You frown at his words, “I’m not vanilla. I’m fun, I swear.” you pout.

“I didn’t mean it as boring babe. I just mean you probably lost it to like your high school sweetheart, your first love, blah blah blah. The romantic shit.” You exhale a short breath…babe? You like the new friendly nickname, you admit.

“Actually it’s the opposite.”

“The opposite?”

“First year of college. Random guy from a bar. Total one night stand type of situation. I didn’t even tell him it was my first time. I think he probably just thought I was really inexperienced. “ You laugh to yourself. Sounds like a situation you might regret but there is no bitterness in your tone.

“Oh wow. y/n the cry baby can do one night stands?” he teases.

“I’m full of surprises you know.” The glint in your eye tells him he’s going to find out eventually.

“Well then what are the dirty details?” he pries further, leaning into your space again.

“Hmm, don’t think I am drunk enough for that.”

“Oh, I can grab another bottle of wine.” He teases, “But fine.”

“About your comment about me being vanilla…” you begin but Taehyung is cutting you off with the shake of his head.

“I didn’t mean it bad—”

“Are you into vanilla sex?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows crawl to the top of his forehead and his mouth falls open.

“Why are you asking that?” he breathes out, his eyes darkening.

“They paired us together, you know? We probably have more in common than you think…my guess that means sex too.”

“I know we have that in common.” He smirks, “I’m guessing you never looked in the other room?” he quirks a brow at you. “You might find it interesting.”

“The other room?” you tilt your head to the side, “Oh? The one upstairs next to your bathroom? Yeah, I stuck my head in there once…I saw it’s just another bedroom.”

“Is it really just another bedroom though? You didn’t have a look around?” his sly smile grows on his stupidly handsome face. “Like I said…you might find it interesting.”

“What are you talking about?” you slur, “Why would I…?”

Taehyung rises to his feet, walks towards you and leans down until he’s softly gripping your arm and pulling you up.

“Let’s go explore.” He chuckles, “I want you to see the room.” He’s guiding you out the art room, you two stumbling through the door.

You both begin to make your way upstairs, his hand never leaving your arm as you two walk. You keep bumping into him and he only laughs, squeezing your arm every few moments. You guys walk through the hall until you’re standing outside the bedrooms door.

“Go on.” He looks at you with a smirk, “I want you to explore this bedroom.”

“You’re being weird.” You giggle, opening the door.

And just like you thought, it’s just a bedroom. There’s a large bed in the middle of the room against the wall, and a couple of dressers, a closet, a huge ass mirror and other normal bedroom things.

“And?” You glance at Taehyung.

He looks at you with an amused smile. “Explore.” He commands.

You give him a weird look before walking through the room, your hand slides against the dresser that holds the extra large mirror. You catch your reflection and smile at how drunk you look. Taehyung walks behind you and eyes both of your reflections, he steps close to you and chuckles.

“I like this mirror.” He whispers. “Great view of the bed.”

“Uh yeah?” you look at him through the mirror, “I guess so.”

“Explore the drawers.” His evil grin makes you nervous…you look down at the drawers and open the first one on the left, there’s multiple things inside but you can’t tell what they are. You stick your hand inside and grab the first thing it can find. You pull this object out and bring it closer to your face, your drunken vision making it hard to identify what it is. Then your eyes are expanding and you drop the object in the drawer, the loud thud making you jump.

“What was that?” Taehyung whispers, “Something you know right?”

A dildo. Your eyes scan the rest of the drawer only to see more, along with other toys. You quickly slam the drawer shut and turn around to face Taehyung, who is standing so close behind you.

“What the hell?” you stutter out, turning red.

“That’s not all. Check the closet.” He says quietly, pointing towards the closet. And you listen, you walk forward until you’re standing beside the sliding door. You open it and see various articles of clothing.

Lingerie and outfits. Maid, nurse, etc. You stare at the clothes in disbelief.

“What is all this?” you turn to face Taehyung.

“You tell me.” He says chuckling, “Seems like we like the same stuff.” He shrugs. “Maybe you can,” he walks closer and is touching the maid lingerie, “wear this next you’re cleaning the house.”

He’s teasing you. Your stomach twists and turns, your heart is jumping out of your chest and you feel so fucking warm.

“S-Shut up.” You lean back on the door.

“Oh baby, I think you and I both know who tells who what to do here.” He breathes out, not looking at you as he still plays with the material of more lingerie.

“Taehyung,” you sigh, “The cameras can’t hear you in here.”

“Ah,” he turns to face you, “Right. Should we head back downstairs?”

“Yes.” You slur out, feeling quite dizzy.

Month 5

It’s the bright white screen you know all too well…it has you releasing a shaky breath as you wait for the black letters to eventually appear.

“Hey Taehyung…” you call out for you roommate who is making something to eat in the kitchen. “I think we have an incoming message from our,” You pause, huffing out. “Our little friends.”

“Oh. Oh shit.” You hear Taehyung whine from behind you. “I thought they were finally starting to back off…” he sighs out. “Let’s see what these fuckers want.”

Request:

Skinny dip for 1 hour. Must be within a foot of one another.

Ex-excuse you? Ex-fucking-cuse you? Skinny who what for when what? Your eyes bulge out of your head. This has got to be some sort of joke.

“Hell no!” you yell out, not even sparing Taehyung a glance.

Voice full of panic, Taehyung is quick to bring up the alternative.

“The penalty!” he rushes. “What’s the penalty? We will just do the penalty!”

Penalty:

No power or running water for 3 days.

“No pow—what the fuck?” Taehyung shakes his head, disbelief written all over his face.

“Wait! And no running water? Like, we can’t flush the toilet for 3 days? That’s bullshit!” you drag your hands down your face, “And wont the stuff in our fridge go bad?”

Several long moments pass between you two and not in a cool way. There’s nothing cool about this shit. There’s tension filling the air around you both. Awkward tension.

“Isn’t this too much?” Taehyung finally says, obviously not able to tolerate the silence any longer.

You both exchange worried glances with one another before Taehyung says some shit you don’t like.

“Let’s just do the request.”

Your eyes basically pop out of your head.

“Are you out of your mind—do the requests? How could you say that so easily!” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I feel like it’s the best choice.” He gives his honest answer. “Plus, you’ve never seen a naked man before? We will get over it y/n. Knowing me and you, we will be laughing about it in a couple days.” He finally turns to face you, throwing a wink your way, “You know it’s true.”

You mull over your options and hate that he’s right. You very timidly respond with a quiet ‘okay’ and avoid his eyes. His dark, intimidating eyes.

Your heart is racing, No, that is an understatement; your heart is on the verge of explosion. Your nerves are scattered and pounding from the inside out. You are freaking out. Naked with Taehyung? And he seems cool as a fucking cucumber.

“Let’s meet outside once it’s completely dark out.” You suggest.

“Read my mind.”

“…Of course I did, we’re” you roll your eyes. “Soulmates.” you laugh bitterly to yourself, “anyway, I’ll just see you tonight.”

“So you’re just going to avoid me until tonight?” Taehyung asks, “It’s not like they’re asking us to fuck.” He sways on his feet, “Just keep your eyes on my eyes and we will be fine.”

“Right.” You choke out, “Because it’s that easy.”

“Are you saying it’s impossible not to check me out?” he teases and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Shut up.”

“Brat.”

Night fall approaches sooner rather than later. You wish it would have taken a million years to appear but nope, here you are. You stand outside with Taehyung in front of you. You’re in an oversized t shirt and loose shorts, keeping it simple since they’re coming off anyway. Taehyung wears his usual sweats and a white tee. You two are standing next to the pool, knowing the time has finally come. After leaving Taehyung earlier this afternoon, you took a much needed nap to clear your head.

“Don’t let your eyes linger.” You mumble, nodding your head in his direction.

“Ha, I was going to say the same thing to you.” He pokes his tongue out. Taehyung looks fucking comfortable as fucking always. Like, this doesn’t bother him in the least.

Luckily, the tension is tolerable. So you decide to make the first move. You begin unbuttoning your shorts—

“Woah! Woah! Woah! Wait!” he yells. His arms flailing, trying to stop you.

You scrunch your nose in annoyance, “What?” you ask, not too pleased since you are just trying to get this over with. If you got told 5 months ago that you would be in a hurry to get naked in front of this guy you would ugly laugh. Yet here you are.

“It’s just-it’s just…we should go at the same time.” Taehyung rushes to say.

“Oh, okay. Pants first, let’s go—”

“No! that’s awkward.” He shakes his head, “shirt first.”

“Okay, okay.” You oblige, “weirdo” You whisper loud enough that he can hear you.

The two of you begin with your tops, you try to focus your eyes elsewhere but they naturally skim the skin of his chest and abdomen as his shirt comes off quickly. Taehyung doesn’t even try to look away as you undress, his dark, intimidating stare causing you to feel chills. You slip off your pink t shirt, exposing your bare torso that is laced with a pretty black bralette. His gaze doesn’t waver.

“Okay, next is our bottoms right?” You gulp. He only nods.

You continue the job on unbuttoning your shorts, letting them fall to your feet exposing your matching black panties. Yes, you wore a sexy matching set on purpose. If he’s going to see you like this why wouldn’t you want to look good? You would do that for anybody. You can feel him eyeing you as he slips off his sweats, leaving him in nothing but a pair of blue briefs.

Finally, you are left in nothing but your underwear. You eye him over, his body is so fucking nice it makes you feel bad for even standing next to him. His briefs are a light blue, leaving little to the imagination. You can literally see the outline of his—you know what. Is he sporting a semi, right now? You do an up and down of your own body when you realize you have more clothes than him!

“Hey this is unfair!” You whisper, covering your chest with your arm. “I have to strip my bra off and you what, just get to watch?”

“Oh? So I am allowed to watch?” he responds playfully. It’s that same teasing tone you’re still trying to get used to.

“Well, you’re obviously going to see…” You grumble, lowering your arm. “Welp, here goes.”

Taehyung swallows rather hard, his eyes trailing your body pretty shamelessly. You reach in front of you, unhooking the bralette and letting the straps fall off your shoulders before letting the whole thing fall to the ground.

“Uh, okay.” Taehyung clears his throat. “Now our underwear.”

“Right.” You say while reaching for the band of your panties, pulling it back a bit and letting it go, the material slapping against your hips. You swear you see his dick move at that.

“Okay.” Taehyung’s breathing is heavier than before, “On 3? 1…2..”

“3!” you shout in unison.

You both begin stripping away your last piece of clothing. You’re the first to be fully undressed. You let your panties drag down leg by leg until they join the pile of clothes at your feet. It’s not that you’re trying to do this in a sexy manner, but if it comes across sexy—then so be it. Taehyung pauses mid action, his eyes scanning your body again. God, you are starting to get really nervous again. His gaze absolutely thrills you, you can admit that. You’d live a life of torture to have him stare at you like this all the time. You see him lick his lips then shake his head. You didn’t just imagine that right?

“Hurry up.” You plead.

Taehyung finally drags off his briefs. By the looks of it he looks mostly hard, as his cock springs free. Holy Fuck. Your last ex—Ben—was not this…blessed. Taehyung has every right to be as cocky as he wants, he’s earned it. His dick is long in length but he also seems to have girth. How is one man blessed this much? You would have to have your hand wrapped around it—or your lips—to really know how thick he is. Jesus fucking Christ, what are you saying? You think your best excuse is that you are dick deprived. Also…how long have you been staring? You will say long enough by the look Taehyung is giving you. It’s that shit eating grin that just screams he is one cocky bastard.

“Okay,” you clear your throat, forcing yourself to look into Taehyung’s eyes. “Let’s get in the pool.”

“You got the timer?” Taehyung chuckles.

“It’s laying on the ledge.” you point at it, walking closer to the pool. “Ready?” you look up at him, waiting for his response.

“You look beautiful by the way.” He says out of nowhere. “I mean, as always.” He winks.

You blush pretty fucking hard at that, you can feel all the heat rush to your cheeks, lighting you on fire.

“Are you-are you ready or what?” you grumble.

“Always.” He grins, reaching for you hand. “Let’s go.”

You two tip toe into the water, pausing every few seconds to get use to the temperature of the water. You stop once the water reaches your collarbones, you walk towards the wall, lean against it and face forward. You turn the timer on and you both exchange a few words but you remain mostly quiet, You don’t think either of you know what to say. Every minute that passes (about 15 to be exact) has your nerves spiking.

You hear Taehyung sigh deeply as he inches closer towards you. Now why would he do that? He inches so close that your shoulders are touching, he sinks a little further into the water and then surprising you, he rests his head on your shoulder. What the fuck is he doing?

“We can have a foot of space between us.” You remind him awkwardly.

Taehyung remains quiet, you only hear his soft breaths.

“Taehyung?”

“You know how hard it is going to be to get the image of you naked out of my head?” He whispers with a chuckle.

“Don’t start using me as masturbation material.” You joke, your eyes looking out at the water. It’s calm and bright from the lights inside the pool.

“Start? You think you haven’t entered my mind before?” he jokes back. At least you think he’s joking.

“Stop playing.” You laugh awkwardly.

Taehyung is quiet again and you can feel the tension that always visits you two starting to build.

“Do you…have you…have you thought about me before?” you manage to slip out, surprising yourself.

“You’re asking if I’ve—”

“If you’ve thought about me when you have ‘alone’ time’ ya know?”

“Do you think I haven’t?” he lifts his head and stares at you. “y/n…I’m a guy. And you’re kind of the only person I see.”

Oh. It’s not like I see anyone else. His last words repeat in your mind. Of course, that makes sense. He’s stuck with you, of course you’ve entered his mind, probably against his will or whatever.

“I see.” You say softly. You step to the side, getting further from him and he frowns.

You two stand here, barely speaking. Maybe another 20-30 minutes pass when Taehyung dramatically huffs out.

“Listen y/n…about earlier.” Right earlier. When you made a fucking fool of yourself. Asking your friend is he has ever jacked off to you before! Before he can continue you slap a finger over his pouting lips, shushing him.

“Do you really think now is the time?”

“We have time to kill—”

“—okay! So let’s talk about something else!” you happily offer.

But you guess Taehyung isn’t having it, he steps closer and rests his head on your shoulder again, his breathing picking up. Why is he breathing so hard?

“Just hear me out, okay?”

You only stare ahead, exhaling deeply. What to do…maybe there’s no harm in hearing him out, right? Oh wait there is harm! The feeling of fucking rejection. Why does it feel like rejection? You don’t know. Why the fuck you care? You don’t know that either. But he’s fucking sulking, like a baby. You thought you were the baby here? You guess he needs to have a turn every now and then…

“fine.”

“You probably,” he sinks in the water just a little deeper, “hate me, right?” you don’t hate him…”Me, your friend, has had dirty thoughts about you, yada yada,” he closes his eyes.

“ wait what—” This is because he has had dirty thoughts about you?

“So about what I said…I’m sorry…”

“Taehyung it’s fine,” you rush to say in embarrassment, “I don’t know why I asked! Seriously, it was stupid. I crossed a li—”

“Wait why did you ask?” That’s when you freeze. Yeah why did you ask?

“Uh…”

“Why?” he stands up straighter, his head tilted towards you.

“I was just curious Taehyung.” you defend. “It’s not that deep.”

“Curious? About me?” he raises he brow, he pauses while thinking over his words. “Like, sexually?” he finishes, caution in his voice.

Fuck. What did you get yourself into?

“Taehyung…I already said it was stupid. Plus,” you decide to be bold again, “Hearing it was only because I’m the only one here or whatever didn’t do great things for my ego.”

“Wait—” you hear him stifle a chuckle. “That’s what you’re mad about?”

“Well…” you drag out the word with a pout. You don’t mean to be such a baby yet here you are.

“Wow! I thought you were mad because I’ve thought about you impurely, not because it wasn’t a good enough reason why…wow.” He laughs! He’s basically laughing at you!

“Well?”

“Oh my God, y/n. You’re joking right? I can’t just say I have the hots for my friend now can I? That’ll just—”

“Do you?” your voice is much smaller and quieter than you anticipated, like it barely escaped. Taehyung stays quiet for a second too long that it makes you ten times as nervous.

“Are you…” Taehyung looks at you with a look on his face you can’t quite place, “I’m naked in a pool with you right now and I am going crazy. Absolutely crazy.” Taehyung sighs out heavily, a frown taking over his face. “You’re ability to be so naïve just…baffles me.” He admits, defeated.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a beautiful girl y/n. Of course my mind has wandered. It doesn’t mean I—fuck. It doesn’t mean anything deep or anything like that. But yes, being with you and your fanfuckingtastic tits is giving me some trouble.” He says darkly. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed you checking me out either.” He smirks. “We are human.” He finishes.

A long, deafening silence accompanies you both. Its sitting in the water between your bodies. Just lingering, waiting for one of you to break it in half and drown it in this very pool. But no, it remains. And that person won’t be you. But several minutes have passed by and he is still fucking quiet. Maybe you should be the one to say something? You’re about to you swear , but you hear Taehyung grumble something under his breath.

“What’s that?” you say.

“I said, it’s only fair if I ask too.” Ask what? Oh. Wait. That?

“Ask what?” you ask, pretending you don’t know.

“You know what.”

“Nope.” you say, popping the ‘p’.

“y/n.” “I’m not answering that.”

“Come on.” He leans his face towards your neck, his breaths hitting your wet skin. “It’s only fair.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” he pushes on. “Come on y/n, have you thought about me when you get yourself off or not?” he asks, his voice really low. How does he get his voice so deep? Fuck, it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Maybe once or twice I have thought about you too.” You admit, feeling a rush of adrenaline as the words leave your mouth.

“Once or twice?” he repeats lowly, “What did you think about?” his words crawl on the side of your neck as they leave his mouth.

“I’m not answering that.”

“I want you to tell me.” He sounds so breathless while being so demanding.

“Nope.”

“You’re no fun.” He chuckles. “Aren’t you curious about what I think about?”

“Not really.” You lie. “Don’t worry about my imagination. It’s the only action I’m getting anyway.” You laugh.

“When’s the last time you had sex y/n? Please tell me it wasn’t with your ex…”

“Yeah it was.” You admit and Taehyung pushes his head back, not liking you admission.

“Why haven’t you?” he asks.

“I felt so betrayed Taehyung…it’s sort of hard to trust anyone after that.” You sigh, “He hurt me bad. I’m…”

“You’re what?”

“I just don’t feel comfortable.” You say softly, “I don’t think I will for a while.”

“I see…I’m so sorry. I wish that didn’t happen to you.”

“It’s in the past now.”

Ben holds you close as he comes, his hands leaving behind their marks on your body from how tightly he holds you.

“Fuck yes.” He groans, “Did you come?” he asks quickly, breathing hard into your neck.

“It’s okay.” You sigh out, “As long as you feel good.”

“I felt amazing honey.” He kisses the side of your neck over and over. “Shit, we gotta get going. We’ll be late for work.”

“Do we really have to take separate cars?” you whine.

“Just for now babe.” He promises, lifting himself off your body, leaving your pussy aching for more.

“Okay…”

“He look so handsome today as usual…” you hear Layla talking to some of the other girls. “I’m telling you…he’s going to ask me out. He’s been eyeing me lately and complimenting me.” She gushes, catching your interest.

“Who?” you ask, setting your belongings down on your desk.

Layla turns to face you, waves her hand and smiles.

“Ben.”

Ben? Like your Ben? Her boss Ben?

“Ben who?” you blink at her and the other girls laugh.

“Obviously the only Ben we know!” Layla giggles and you feel your chest tighten.

“You think he’s going to ask you out?”

“Yes girl! He comes to my desk a few times day, calls me gorgeous, so on and so forth.” Layla says quietly so only you girls can hear. You feel your heart drop.

“I don’t think so.” You speak up. “Ben wouldn’t. He’s already seeing someone.”

“Oh really? Who?” Layla scrunches her brows together, “Because—”

“Me.” You blurt. “He and I are…”

The other girls stop their giggling and look at you with shocked eyes.

“There’s no way.” One of them says.

“y/n, are you serious?” Layla blushes, feeling a little embarrassed now.

“Yes, for months now.” you admit. “But we weren’t telling anyone…yet.”

“Wow! I can’t believe this!” another girl says, her hand coming to her mouth.

You then in a hush hush voice tell the group of girls yours and Bens story. You tell them how he pursued you, you finally agreed and how you two have been dating for over 6 months. They gush and gasp and giggle. It feels good to finally tell people, you think.

But unfortunately for you, it wasn’t good at all.

“y/n?” Taehyung knocks you out of your daze. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.” You sigh, feeling weak. “I’m okay.”

Taehyung looks at you with pity, his eyes full of it. He stands tall and floats until he’s standing in front of you.

“I’m going to hug you.” He states calmly, “I really need to hug you.”

“Taehyung…” you step back until your back hits the ledge. “Now isn’t really appropriate.”

“I don’t care. I’ve already seen you naked.” He says nonchalantly. “C’mere.” He opens his arms wide for you and you shake your head.

“I said, c’mere.” He inches closer and closer. “Or I’m coming to you.”

“Taehyung.” You whine, but you let him get closer to you.

His wet arms reach out for you, he’s gripping your shoulders first before his hands easily slide down your arms until they’re under water holding on to your waist.

“C’mere.” He repeats. And you slowly inch closer towards him, your arms hesitantly circling around his middle. And then he’s pulling you in to his chest…he sighs when he feels your budding nipples graze his skin, he sighs when he feels the fullness of your breasts being pushed into him, he sighs when he feels you.

You release a long breath as you hug him, maybe you needed this. This type of human contact. You pull back and look up into Taehyung’s dark eyes, he’s already gazing at you.

“Thanks.” You mumble.

“I think of you because you’re cool. And really pretty.”

“Huh?” Why is Taehyung suddenly complimenting you?

“When I’m—you know. I think of you because you’re cool and really pretty. I could think of anyone ya know? That’s how an imagination works. But I still think about you.”

You’re sure your face is a dark crimson, with how hard you are blushing. How are you supposed to take this new information?

“W-Well,” You find it hard to look into his eyes. “I guess, same.”

“Because I’m pretty?” his tone is lighter all the sudden, you roll your eyes.

“What do you think? Timer should be going on any minute now.” Taehyung throws a glance over his shoulder towards the timer.

“Hmm…” You turn, reaching for the timer, your wet hands getting ahold of it. “Less than 5 minutes.” You read it.

“Oh.” He sings, “If you have a secret, share it now!” Taehyung chuckles into the water, his lips creating bubbles on the surface.

“You want to know even more about me?” You stand a little taller, the water reaching the tops of your breasts. You see Taehyung’s eyes linger for a second before meeting your eyes again. “If you wanna know anything, just ask.” You reach your arms over your head, releasing a yawn.

“Okay…” He places his fingers on his chin, “It’s about me though.” He stops, his fingers dragging down his neck. “Ah, never mind.”

“What?”

“No, it’s weird.”

“Aren’t we passed weird?” you giggle.

“No, it’s really weird.” He sighs out, sinking down into the water until his head is fully under.

You watch as he rises back up, the water cascading down his golden skin, the water from his hair dripping onto his shoulders.

A few moments pass, Taehyung stands here thinking to himself while you just shamelessly watch. You watch as he chews on the inside of his cheek, his eyes upward, scanning the stars. He hums some tune to himself, deep in thought. Honestly, you love when he does this. He looks so…good. Not in a sexual way, you swear. He just looks so him. So Taehyung. He goes from chewing on his cheek to his bottom lip, his teeth digging into the plump flesh. You gulp, God he has no idea how good he looks like this.

“Well?” You ask impatiently. Trying to wave away any more of those thoughts you were just having.

Taehyung releases his bottom lip from his teeth as his lips form into a pout, his eyes closing.

“I’m thinking…”

“Less thinking, more asking.” You feel way too curious about whatever it is he wants to say. And the minutes are passing you by.

Taehyung opens one eye to look at you, he exhales, and faces you.

“Does it sound like I’m in love with Hana?” he says quietly.

“W-What? You’ve only really brought her up once…”

“But when I talked about her did it seem like I have deep feelings for her?”

“She thinks I only like the idea of her” Taehyung mumbles to Jimin and Namjoon. “She doesn’t think I like her as much as I say? Which is so stupid!”

“Isn’t she right though?” Jimin asks with a frown, “You only ever talk about how pretty she is…”

“Jimin means you don’t really have that much in common with her, do you?” Namjoon questions softly. “You don’t…you don’t seem as into as you have been in the past. Are you sure you actually like her?”

Taehyung stares at his friends in disbelief, not believing his ears for one second.

“What are you guys talking about? I fucking like her.” He grits out.

“Are you sure you aren’t just lonely—”

“I don’t want to hear this.” Taehyung stands up from the couch, “I’m going to go see her.”

Taehyung makes it to Hana’s apartment but her roommate answers the door and frowns when she sees Taehyung,

“Yes?”

“Uh, I’m here to see Hana.” He gestures inside the apartment.

“Right…” the roommate stands off to the side and lets Taehyung in. “She’s in her room.”

Taehyung walks through the apartment and down the hall until he’s knocking on Hana’s door. She opens it quickly, hugging him and pulling him inside.

“Hey you.” She smiles at Taehyung and he smiles back with his teeth.

“Hi.”

“What brings you here?”

“Just came to hang out, maybe watch a movie?” Taehyung sways from side to side, trying to not make this awkward.

“Sure, you can choose the movie.” She goes to her desk, grabs her lap top and gestures towards her bed. “We can watch in my bed.” She says shyly.

“G-Good idea.”

“So how did you like it?” Taehyung asks excitedly. ‘Castaway on the Moon’ just finished and he is so happy he got to show her his favorite movie.

“Honestly?” she chuckles awkwardly, “I didn’t really like it.” She admits. “it was weird.”

“It’s not weird! It’s amazing,” he pouts and she giggles.

He does feel really disappointed that she doesn’t like his favorite movie…is that a red flag? No, he’s just being dramatic, he thinks.

“Next time I’ll choose the movie.” Hana cuddles closer to Taehyung. “Okay?”

“Sure.”

“Taehyung…” you begin, “Where is this coming from?”

“She doesn’t think—my friends too—don’t think we have a lot of chemistry. That I’m forcing myself to like her, but that’s not true! But sometimes I feel confused. And I thought I could get an outside opinion.” He admits, “But this was stupid you don’t have to answer.”

You can tell him you believe in his feelings or you can tell him you don’t think he’s even talked about her enough that you take his feelings seriously. But will that hurt him?

“I—”

Beep beep beep beep beep beep.

The fire place is turned on, creating a safe and cozy atmosphere. The gas lit flames burn a hole in the tension that fills the room. What sort of tension? Not sure.

Taehyung and you are sat comfortably on the sofa, sitting with crossed legs facing one another, your knees just barely touching. A bowl of popcorn rests between you and blankets wrapped around your bodies. Separate blankets, of course.

Taehyung and you have decided to move the party inside (with clothes: on) and continue talking.

The ringing of the timer didn’t completely ruin your conversation only delaying it.

“And I don’t know,” he takes a handful of popcorn and stuffs it in his mouth. “I think we would make a cute couple.”

“Yeah but like I asked, what sorts of things do you two talk about? Not if you guys are a cute couple.”

“We talk.” He states.

“Okay…about?”

“Stuff.”

“You aren’t helping your case.” You sigh out, biting your lip. “I want to believe in your feelings Taehyung but…”

“I know.” He cuts you off, “I know.”

“So why are you forcing it?” you reach for some popcorn yourself, “Why do you want to like her so bad?”

“I don’t know….” He admits softly, “I really don’t know.”

“You’re unsure of your feelings.” You say bluntly. “That’s what it seems like.”

“Maybe I am.” He wraps the blanket around his shoulders tighter. “I’m like you…I don’t know what love is.”

“And just like me, you’ll find it someday.” You promise him with a sweet smile. “Right?”

“You will for sure.” He breathes out, “I think I’m a ….”

“A?”

“God, I don’t even want to say it.” He throws his head in his hands. “But I think I am a hopeless romantic.”

“I just want some cute love story with a cute girl. And Hana is perfect.”

“But does she thrill you? Challenge you? Make you laugh?”

“She’s…” fuck, he doesn’t even know. Does he even know Hana that well?

“Hey y/n…” Taehyung looks up at you, his eyes finding yours and you shrink in your spot.

“Yes?”

“Can we watch my favorite movie? I’m curious what you might think about it.” He gazes at you and you nod your head slowly.

“Sure Taehyung.”

“Also, you can call me Tae.”

“Holy fuck.” You sob into your hands. “The fucking noodles.”

Taehyung looks over at you with a soft smile as he has his own tears falling down his face.

“I know right?”

“He finally felt like he had purpose Tae,” you look at him with a pathetic scrunched up face, tears still leaving your eyes.

“EXACTLY!” Taehyung wails, “EXACTLY!”

“This movie was amazing, and how everything turned out...wow…and how she…and he…my goodness. I’m still crying.”

“I told you!! I am so glad you enjoyed it.” He moves closer to you on the sofa without thinking.

“Only lame people wouldn’t like this movie!” you basically yell out and Taehyung scoots even closer, his shoulder bumping yours. But you barely notice, still too invested in the movie.

“Yeah.” He agrees with a smile. “You really must be my soulmate.” He jokes with an awkward smile. “No one else really likes this movie.”

“Ha-Ha.” You roll your eyes, “But anyway, that’s crazy since it was so good.”

“Stop praising it or I’ll have to marry you.” He jokes again and you start turning a rosy pink.

“Stop.” You whine, swatting his shoulder.

“Let’s call it a night, yeah?”

You and Taehyung clean up the kitchen and living room and head upstairs for the night, he walks you to your bedroom door and lingers.

“Tonight was crazy. I saw you naked.” He brings up the request and you go redder than red.

“We can literally never talk about it again…”

“Am I allowed to think about it at least?” he winks, his voice low and making you feel tense.

“Goodnight Taehyung.”

~~~~~~~~

Month 6

Today is one of those days…Taehyung is in a bad mood and you’re being a brat. He hates how much you’ve been teasing him today…he is sorting through his feelings for Hana but you insist on walking around with small shorts and low cut tank tops, claiming it’s ‘hot’. He finally has you cornered though, he’s finally had enough. He’s got you pushed up against a wall, his face so close that your breaths mingle with one another.

“You’re really pushing me today…” Taehyung leans closer, his warm breath fanning over your face. “Today’s not the day y/n.” he warns.

“How am I pushing you? I’m literally not doing anything.” You jut your bottom lip out and look to the side.

“You’re being…such a fucking tease.” He decides to say, “Which is giving me a real headache.” He leans down, his arms on either side of your body.

“So I give you a headache?” Your eyes look up into his and you smirk. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“You are real annoying, you know that?” he can’t help but chuckle, but then he’s exhaling a deep breath and rolling his eyes. “Ask for forgiveness.”

“Ask for forgiveness?” you scoff. “Seriously? And what am I asking forgiveness for?”

“You’re lucky I’m not telling you to beg.”

“Beg?” you scoff again. “Who do you think you—”

“y/n.” his dark eyes gaze into yours. His hand slides down the wall and then it’s at your waist. He pulls you in and leans his head down closer to your face, you feel the lump in your throat grow as you ty to swallow it down.

“Y-Yes?”

“Ask for forgiveness.” He tells you again, this time much more softly.

“And if I don’t?” You stare up at him and he chuckles.

“Do you really want to find out?” his gaze doesn’t waver as he looks at you…the way he stares at you makes you feel bare in front of him, like he’s stripping you of your clothes, of your skin, everything.

“And if I do?” you whisper. “What happens if I do?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you as he licks his lips repeatedly…you’re really testing him aren’t you? He can’t tell if you’re toying with him because of the cameras or if it’s because you’re a brat.

“y/n.” he says your name like the sound of a slow breath. It feels intimate, the way he calls out for you. You can’t help but gulp as you blink up at him.

“Y-Yes?”

“You want to beg, don’t you?” he smirks, he pokes his tongue out as he eyes you. You can see the amusement in his eyes. “You want to…” the words are dying on his tongue because what can he say? Everything he wants to say would probably be deemed as inappropriate.

“I want to what?” you tilt your head up, your eyes scanning the entirety of his face and he leans further into your space.

“Just do as I say, tell me you’re sorry and we can move on.”

“Do as you say?” you lean back until your head is lightly hitting the wall, “You think I would really listen to you?”

“Such a brat.” His hand doesn’t let go of your waist as he leans back as well. “Why do I deal with this? And yes,” he rolls his head back. “I think you would very much enjoy listening to me.” He pauses and bites his lip. “If this company really thinks we’re a match made in heaven then I am sure you can assume what I mean.”

You silently gasp, a blush painting itself brightly on your cheeks.

“Ah,” he leans in again, “So you do know what I mean.”

“Taehyung,” you mumble, “Sometimes your flirting for the camera is too much.” You whisper quiet enough the cameras can’t hear.

Taehyung leans down until his mouth is at the shell of your ear and you can hear the smirk.

“Who says it’s for the cameras?” he leans away from you again, he finally drops his hand from your waist and is about to turn to leave when your hand flies to his shirt.

“Wait.” You blurt out, “I’ll…” you look off to the side. “I’ll say sorry”

“Oh?” Taehyung looks amused to say the least, “Go ahead, then.”

“Only if you tell me what’s wrong today.”

“It’s nothing.”

Your hand goes from the middle of his shirt to his shoulder and you look up at him with big, doe eyes as he blinks down at you over and over.

“What?” he whispers.

“Please.” You whisper back, “I’ll be good,” you promise in a low voice.

Taehyung feels his chest get warm, the heat traveling from there to his toes. He looks at you with his serious expression and softens.

“You are good.” He breathes out. His gaze intense as he stares into your eyes.

“Then…” you pause. Taehyung keeps his eyes on your eyes until he’s not. His eyes slowly travel down your face until he’s staring at your lips. He notices how plump they look, how your tongue darts out to wet them. He feels himself being drawn closer to you, leaning in further and further.

“…Taehyung.” You say breathlessly and Taehyung blinks repeatedly, clearing his throat as he leans back again.

“Fine, don’t apologize. Brat.” And he’s stepping away from you and you watch his back as he walks away.

Taehyung. Is. Such. A. tease. And it drives you absolutely insane. You’re sure the company that watches you is having the times of their lives as you suffer. Why does he have to go this far? It only makes you want to challenge him and go even further yourself. There was a moment, right? Where he acted like he was going to kiss you? Of course he wouldn’t actually do that. This is just for show but god, it still drives you nuts.

Taehyung rushes to his bedroom, slamming the door shut as he rests against it. What the hell is wrong with him? He’s just frustrated. He misses Hana. But why do you have to be so infuriating and you know, hot. And it makes him angry. He wasn’t actually going to kiss you, of course. But there was a moment of strange tension that he…he can’t describe. Taehyung slides down the door, falling to the ground. He remembers his first kiss with Hana, it was sweet and nice but like, he doesn’t remember it being intense not like how it feels when he gets close to you.

“Taehyung!” Hana giggles as she pats his back as she’s thrown over his shoulder. “Put me down!”

“Never!” Taehyung laughs just as much as he runs around in circles. “Ugh, so heavy though.” He jokes.

“Hey!” Hana hits his back, “Come on, put me down.” Her giggles softly relax and he’s setting her down back on the ground, her feet finally planted on the ground as she keeps her arms loosely thrown around his neck.

“You really love carrying me.”

“Holding you is fun.” He smiles, “And you’re not actually heavy. Actually you weigh nothing.”

“Yeah, right.” She playfully rolls her eyes.

“So.” Taehyung chuckles awkwardly, looking into Hana’s eyes.

“So…” she steps closer to him, tightening her hold around her neck. “We’ve been hanging out a lot …” she flutters her lashes, “And..”

“And?”

“I kind of want you to kiss me.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s eyes widen. He was not expecting that. He smiles at her and nods his head. “Yeah, I can do that.” He teases, leaning in until his lips are against hers. He pulls back but she pushes herself forward to kiss him more and he sighs in her mouth, loving the feel of her lips.

“We should do that more often.” Taehyung breathes out and Hana giggles.

Taehyung groans into his hands, recalling his memories. He does miss Hana but he feels like every time he thinks of her…he somehow is also thinking about you too. But it’s not like he’s thinking of you like that but yeah, you’re on his mind. And he’s got to chill out. He stands up from the floor and walks to his bed, throwing himself on it with a bounce. He’s still so frustrated. He recalls dinner yesterday, how he…

“I’m staring at you because you have sauce on your lips.” Taehyung says from across the dining room table.

“Should I get it for you?” he teases, standing up from his chair, the sound of it screeching against the floor makes you flinch.

“No, no.” you shake your head, “I can do it myself.”

“What if I want to help you though?” Taehyung tilts his head with innocent eyes. “I’ll clean you up.”

“Tae—”

Taehyung walks to your side of the table and bends down until his face is level with your face, he smiles at you and raises his thumb up to your lips. His thumb brushes across your bottom lip slowly, the heat of his finger making you sigh out. He leans in closer as he finishes wiping the sauce off your mouth. When he finishes he takes a moment to look into your eyes like he’s searching them for something. He’s not sure what though. You feel yourself being hypnotized by his gaze, you, yourself stare back at him just as deeply…you think he’s going to lean away any second but instead he brings his hand between your faces and brings his thumb to his mouth. His thumb pushes past his lips and he’s licking it clean, the action purposely agonizingly slow.

“There. Got it.” He breathes out, “All clean.”

Your eyes widen just the slightest…he’s a tease. A fucking tease.

Taehyung’s eyes light up in amusement when he watches how you flush under his hard stare and he starts laughing.

“W-What?” you spit out, your embarrassment has you stabbing your food with your fork. “What’s funny?”

“You.” He says with a grin, the air is starting to thin out as he laughs. “You make me laugh.”

“Glad I can entertain.” You roll your eyes.

You’re so…fuck, you’re so sexy. Taehyung has been wanting to admit that for a while, but god, he has to really fucking control himself. But he’s trying to keep these thoughts at bay because he needs to figure out what he’s doing about Hana.

He lays here thinking of all the moments he has flirted with you for the camera, he groans into his pillow when he has the hardest realization. Is it really for the camera? The tension between you two is so fucking thick, the air is suffocating, making it hard to breathe. The intensity…the thrill. You are the only one who makes him feel like his world is burning with a passionate fire. Hana is nice but you? You’re you and he’s realizing how much he likes that.

He’s realizing a lot. It’s been 6 months and he thinks he is ready to admit that this is beyond what he signed up for. He signed on to get along, but this? This is a whole other journey he’s going on.

Taehyung sits up in bed, his face gone pale as he makes his realizations. His mouth hangs open as his mind races. Does Taehyung just want to fuck you? Or….does Taehyung like you?

Suddenly, there’s soft knocking on his bedroom door, his head snaps in that direction and he knows it’s you—well duh, who else would it be? He scrambles off the bed and he’s opening the door. You’re wearing yoga pants and a long sleeve shirt now with an innocent smile on your face.

“I turned the AC down.” You say. “Now I won’t make your life hard by wearing hardly any clothes.” You’re teasing him and he’s going wild for it.

“Oh really?” he breathes out, “Are you going to say sorry?” he teases back, his breathing picking up.

“Should I ask for forgiveness?” you mock him and he raises a brow at you.

“I’m going to make you beg y/n.” he says lowly, “Keep this up and I’ll be carrying you to the other bedroom.”

Your smile drops at his words. What does he mean by that? He’s taking the acting too far…

“You ever begged before baby?” He walks closer to you, making you uneasy. You step backward further into the hall and sigh out.

“Maybe.”

“From now on, you’ll only ever do it for me.” He says so low, that you barely hear him. But you do hear him and you shudder.

“Taehyung.” You warn softly, you push him by the shoulders, backing him into his bedroom. Once inside you close the door and look at him expectantly.

“What?” he rolls his eyes at you.

“You’re being too much…” you whisper. “But fuck, I gotta admit you’re good.” You breathe out roughly, “It almost feels real.”

“I wasn’t kidding earlier.” Taehyung walks towards you, his hand reaching out to touch the ends of you hair, “Who says this is for the cameras?”

You glance up at him, clearly confused.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh y/n.” Taehyung feels his heart start to race. “This just got a lot more interesting.”

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung fanfic #the island chapter 4

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

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title : cigarettes and parfaits [2] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, josei, mild angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT) Notes: tbh idk how marriage works in japan, all i know is that once you have both your signatures in the marriage registration certificate with one witness then you guys r married skdjssks anyways onto the story- also might i add this is happy story?? i promise yall, all youll see is cute stuff in this story bcos fuck angst (ok maybe lil angst since you know plot development) but i stand by that nanami kento deserves that trip to malaysia under the sun with his lover! before i forget to add, the age dynamics is that y/n is around 25 and nanami is 38. no power play and all that, just two healthy consenting adults! sorry for the early delete had some minor corrections :(

Izakaya-informal japanese bar

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*13 hours earlier; a night before at some random Izakaya in Tokyo*

You sat in front of your phone and three bottles of saki, despite your friends advising you countless of times to lay off drinking too much, all sense and warnings are thrown off the window tonight.

You’re clearly far from sobriety as you recall the video chat with your otosan not looking too good and bright, “Why don’t you move back home? It’s not like the teaching job at tokyo is all that great! You’re alone there and your obachan and I don’t like that a lot…” your father’s words haunt you again and again.

Just what was wrong with living alone? And excuse your otosan but you definitely had a very good job at Tokyo High (It was a prestigious academy that paid well, best job out there that you still didn’t know how you landed). You mumbled a few curses underneath your breath, Oh, how much you love that oaf of a father and worrywart of a grandmother but could they lay off the idea of settling down? You were a responsible and good child who never had stepped a toe out of line. Wasn’t that enough already? You immediately downed the drink and let the saki burn your throat down.

“Oh ho, slow down there.” You hear someone say, “You’re all alone and it seems like you have no one to help you back home.”

It seemed like the men on the opposite side of the bar had noticed you.

“I can take myself home, thank you very much.” You mumbled, loud enough for them to hear. Unlike older men who liked to prey on you for your innocent stature. The men who sat across you in the Izakaya didn’t really exude that sort of energy (what can you say, you had a knack of experiencing that, unfortunately).

“Are you sure? We can ask the owner to call a cab for you. She’s a woman and she’s a friend of ours.” the other one in robes pipes in, wait, was that a Buddhist monk?

“No, I’m good. It’s just…” You paused before letting out a long sigh, “A bad time so I need to stick around for a bit.”

The white-haired stranger tilts his head just a bit, “Seems like you and a friend of mine are both going through some rough patches.” he replied, pointing towards his blonde company who you didn’t notice until now.

You wordlessly shifted your gaze towards the office worker next to the Buddhist monk, you hadn’t noticed the blonde man until now. It seemed like he was going through a rough time too since the pair was loud and boisterous enough to conceal his silent presence.

You notice how out of place he looks with his crisp and clean suit, hard gaze, and silence. It made you wonder what sort of man hangs out with two contrasting personalities, “You’re wondering if he’s our friend or our boss, aren’t ya?” the white-haired man asks.

You immediately turn red in embarrassment, were you that easy to read? You try to stutter out an apology but the monk waves it off, “It’s alright, we get it all the time. Contrary to popular belief, Kento is two years younger than us and is our junior from high school.” He smiles.

“Ah,” you nodded mutely, “Sorry. It definitely wouldn’t make sense to see a boss and his subordinates at an Izakaya.”

“Oh, Kento-chan doesn’t usually go out drinking but he couldn’t resist. After all, he’s a father with two very emotional teenage boys.” The white-haired man teased in a sing-song voice. It seemed like the three were close, with the way they were carelessly lounging around the stoic and kind-of scary man.

“I’m starting to wonder if he gets that teasing attitude from you.” The blonde man, seemingly out of his trance, called out his friend. Contrasting to his aloof features, he didn’t mask the annoyance in his tone.

“Oh, uh, do you need help?” you quietly asked, tilting your head to the side in wonder. The blonde man’s head snapped to your direction and quirked a brow.

“And you are?” he seemed to be calculating and observing you from head to toe. It suddenly made you a bit self-conscious because this older gentleman had no business being this good looking and scary at the same time.

“Oh, I’m Y/N by the way. I’m actually a high school teacher.” You introduced yourself sheepishly, “I’m always surrounded by angsty teenagers.”

His gaze narrowed just a bit, it seemed like he’ll be giving you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was a bit desperate since he was getting advice from a drunk stranger in an Izakaya out of all places, “So what seems to be the problem, Ojisan?”

He’s still quite hesitant so it’s his white haired friend who speaks out for him, “You see, Kento-chan here just moved last week because of a promotion from Kyoto.” he grins, telling the story for his friend, “His kids aren’t very keen with the moving, well one of them is outright showing it and the other one is well keeping it in since he’s just the sweeter one.”

The white-haired stranger keeps babbling on about how his friend had regretted taking the work promotion because it feels like he shouldn’t have done that. You peerlessly observe the older man’s reaction while his friend talks about his problems to you. He remains stoic.

It didn’t look like it but it seemed like this man had such a soft spot for his kids.

How nice, his wife must be proud of him.

“... and before I forget to add, Kento-chan is very much single.”

You almost choke on your saliva, this friend of his sure knew how to run his mouth. It suddenly dawns upon you why this man had been very worried, he was a single parent who only wanted what was best for his boys but he didn’t even know how he should proceed now.

“Um, ojisan?” You quietly call out, “I think you’re doing great.”

Silence lingered in the air for a bit, you cringed at your rather awkward and forward approach, “Excuse me?” the older blonde man asked, clearly dismayed by your response.

“It’s just…” you ears turn red, not from the alcohol but from embarrassment, “You wouldn’t have moved in the first place if the pay wasn’t better than your old job, right? Plus you’re alone and raising two kids. It definitely isn’t easy to provide for everything alone but I can see that you did some careful reevaluation on the whole thing. Obviously you can’t avoid the fact that they feel bad but you can sit them down and talk to them about how the whole thing was beneficial not just for you but for them too.”

You spoke way too quickly that you wondered if the man could understand you.

The blonde man holds his breath for a moment, “I know…” he mumbles, “I just don’t really know how to talk to them.”

“Well, maybe you could take them out?” You advised, “Spend a whole day with them for a while and just move around with them. Help them get acquainted around their new school or something!”

You watch him silently look at his glass and think it over. Man, if this guy wasn’t older, your obaasan would outright agree and tell you to go out with him since she was never fond of how men weren’t as calm or laid back as he was.

“That sounds plausible. Thank you, Y/N-san.” his voice turned a bit softer and you feel your stomach turn just a little queasy by his tone. God, was the alcohol this bad?

“Well, would ya look at that.” the white-haired man grins, placing his drink up as if he was signaling everyone to cheers with him, “I told you drinking at an Izakaya would solve all your problems. For that, we should drink here again next week!”

The man glared at him yet again, “No. I should be heading home now. I can’t be anymore away from S-”

“Ah, ah. You promised that you’d stay until 2 am.” The white-haired man hushed, “Or I’ll be pestering you for a whole month.”

You could definitely tell that a vein popped on his forehead and his blood pressure was shooting up. Man, you were really starting to doubt that white-haired man was older than everyone in this room. He sure had the mental age of an elementary student.

“You also said I could leave after five drinks.”

“That’s only your second.”

“Satoru…” the Buddhist monk dangerously hovers over his white-haired friend. Wow, middle-age men sure were amusing, “You don’t even drink that well and he has to drive home…”

“Tit for tat, I’ll hire one of my personnel to drive you home after five drinks and I’ll leave you alone for a wee-”

“Please just leave me alone for my whole life.” the blonde man deadpanned.

Unlike you, he wasn't such a bad drinker. Four bottles for him and one more drink for you later, you're both kind of woozy and you had gotten on even friendlier terms with the three men who you now know as Geto-ojisan, Gojo-ojisan, and finally, Nanami-ojisan. Nanami was well into his late thirties while Geto and Gojo were in their forties.

If you were sober, you wouldn’t be making friends with older men. With stories of how easily young people are taken advantage of in the big city, you’d swerve away from them. Luckily, it seemed like they were a good trio and not once did they invite you to sit on their table so you had some good distance between you four and so far, they hadn’t tried anything funny or uncomfortable.

Geto is currently a lawyer, Gojo’s apparently some swanky businessman of god knows what you heard jewelry or something and Nanami was an accountant. A job that he described was ‘dead-end’ and ‘fucking boring’.

“...What happened to your wife, Nanami-ojisan?” you ask, the alcohol slowly shedding your shyness away.

“I told ya, Y/N-chan. He never was married. The way he got the kids was just complicated!” Gojo Satoru frowns, splaying his long limbs in the air, for a man so enthusiastic with drinking, he sure got drunk pretty quickly.

“Really? Didn’t you have a hard time? Wow…” you whistled, “I have such high…” you raised your hand as high as you could, “...respects for like, single parents!”

“See? See? But he can’t get a partner because of that Y/N-chan.” Gojo pouts, “...We’ve been setting him up on dates and such but he keeps bailing on them!”

“I have kids.” Nanami deadpans, narrowing his eyes.

“What my friends are trying to say, Kento has a number of opportunities to bring a partner into his life but he likes to use the boys and his work as an excuse.” Geto surmised, it seemed like the lawyer was also starting to feel the effects of the alcohol since he had become more talkative.

“He’s good-looking, right Y/N-chan? If he probably didn’t act like some fossil from the Triassic period, he wouldn’t have a problem sometimes about the boys having a mother figure!” Gojo rants, making Nanami flick his forehead.

“Idiot, must you tell this stranger all my problems?” Nanami harshly interjected.

“Well, you do know that to actually get a partner, you must get out there, right ojisan?” you try to calm him down, you didn’t want a bar fight to erupt.

“I know.” he rolls his eyes, “But the kids-”

“I know.” You try to smile, “You aren’t very interested in bringing just anyone in your life, right? The boys need a permanent figure and you think dating around is going to help.”

“Holy shit, Y/N-chan.” Gojo exclaims, “I thought you were a teacher? How come you know all this shit?”

“It’s basic, Gojo-san.” you smile, ready to take another swig of your saki, “You should take into consideration that Nanami-san isn’t just anyone who’d settle for less. He needs stability since he’s technically a parent.”

“That makes you a perfect pair, don’t you think?” Geto nonchalantly replies, “I mean, you need a stable man in your life who has all of it figured out and wouldn’t hold you back at all while Kento here needs a person who could not only be a good parent but also be as understanding.”

“That’s…” you chuckle, he technically was right, “That’s definitely odd how all our problems will be solved if we both just went out together.”

“... looks young enough to be my child.” Nanami rejoined, “why would Y/N-san like-”

“I mean, you’re good looking.” you shrug, rather shamelessly, “I wouldn’t mind going out with you. Heck, I wouldn’t mind if I married you.”

Gojo spits out the saki he was drinking all over the table and that makes you cringe in disgust, “As long as he doesn’t get invited to the wedding. I’d marry you. If you’d like we could even get married right here, right now.” you proudly proclaim.

The blonde man is thrown off by your statement yet he’s too drunk to even sip in the seriousness of your words, “Well as much as I agree on not inviting Gojo to my wedding, I don’t know-” he tries to explain.

“You know what, isn’t Geto-san a lawyer? He could have it notarized and all that right now then we could get married. I’ll be a great mom and help you out then you could help me get my family off my back. You scratch my back, I scratch yours!”

Geto is definitely in shock, how odd was it that he even had a marriage registration certificate in his briefcase back in the car too?

You both could just sign it and Satoru could sign it as your witness and he could have it officially notarized since he had his seal back there too.

Solved.

“So, Nanami-san, what do you say? Wanna marry me?”

Oh god, were you shameless.

Who in the right mind would marry a stranger, one who was thirteen years older and a father?

One thing was for sure, your friends were right. You definitely needed to stay away from alcohol.

taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]

; @coldbookworm ; @frankenstein852 ; @neavil ; @shephard17895 @kristineyoshaii ; @airybnb ; @okachansenpai ; @amortentiaxo ; @rinvtaro ; @franko-pop ; @kozutenshi ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @bleepop ;

@Kurok1717 ; @hcn421 ; @shinhiromi ; @airybnb ; @katshuya ;

#jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you

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threecrowsinatrenchcoat · 3 years

Text

Plant Your Hope With Good Seeds

Dukeceit Week Day 3: Snakes/Bugs

Remus and Janus break up. But literally everyone knows that's not what they want. Everyone, including their plants.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 4337

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

Unknown Number

hey so i kno i said i wouldnt text u but rupert isnt doin good. can i bring him back? he misses u

Janus stared at the text for several minutes. Rupert was, of course, the Monstera Variegata that he and Remus had raised together all the way from propagation. It had been one of the pride and joys of their plant collection. Losing Rupert in the split had hurt almost as much as losing Remus.

...Almost.

Janus

Is it getting enough light? Remember it needed the grow light even next to the window.

Janus texted back against his better judgement. He and Remus were broken up. They’d agreed not to text for a while. They’d agreed to give each other space, get used to being apart.

It sucked, though. The apartment felt empty without Remus and half their plant collection.

Unknown Number

ya i kno. but i don’t have any south facign windows here. our place is better

Unknown Number

i mean ur place

Janus sighed morosely. Well, if it was for Rupert…

Janus

Fine. Rupert can come back.

Unknown Number

yay! ill be in town this weekend. ill bring him ok?

Janus

Ok.

And then Janus promptly threw his phone across the room.

Because here’s the thing. Janus and Remus were broken up. Remus had moved eight hours away and everything. He’d been accepted into the Nuclear Engineering graduate program a state away, and they had both heard too many horror stories about long-distance relationships to brother trying. So they’d had a very civil and mutual split. Janus kept the apartment. Remus took the TV. And they’d divided their plant family between them: they each kept their favorites, and Remus had taken the hardier plants, while Janus kept the ones that were likely not to survive an interstate move.

And then… Remus left.

And Janus had not immediately wanted him back. Not at all.

(And, of course, Janus was lying to himself.)

Remus texted him Saturday morning that he was on his way, and Janus spent the first few hours of the wait stress-cleaning. He then checked on every single plant in the apartment. Watered the ones that needed it. Rotated some of the more vivacious growers so that they wouldn’t lean full-body toward their light source. Moved his small army of Sansevierias out to the apartment balcony for some extra sun.

Then, when all that still failed to fill up the entire eight hours of waiting, he started stress-cooking. So by the time Remus texted that he’d just gotten off the highway, Janus had himself a pot of minestrone soup simmering on the stove, a tray of made-from-scratch lasagna in the oven, and was mixing up a batch of double chocolate chip cookies.

There was no way he was going to eat all this food himself, he realized. He was so used to booking big meals like this, because Remus ate like he was three people. And lasagna was his favorite.

“Oh, Jake, what am I doing?” he groaned to the N’Joy Pothos that cascaded down the side of the refrigerator. And then his doorbell rang.

Janus opened the door to find Remus, dancing awkwardly from foot to foot, with his face half-hidden behind the green-and-white leaves of Rupert.

“...Hey,” Remus said, sounding sheepish. Janus’ heart clenched.

“Hi,” he said. They stood there in the doorway for a full minute before Janus stepped back and motioned for Remus to follow. Remus hesitated, but obeyed.

“Uh… I’ll just…” Remus looked around. Janus hated how uncomfortable he looked. Until about two weeks ago, this had been Remus’ apartment, too. “Can I put him in his old spot?”

“Sure,” Janus replied with a nod. Rupert’s old spot had been in the bedroom, where the big, beautiful south-facing window let in a ton of light. He’d moved Venus de Milos, his Marble Queen Pothos, and La Hoya Jackson, the finicky Hoya Carnosa that Remus had wanted but didn’t expect to make the 8-hour drive without going into shock, to free up Rupert’s spot. Remus hesitated again, before he nodded awkwardly and wandered off to the bedroom, all three feet of plant and two gallons of soil in tow. Janus went to the oven and took out the lasagna.

“Howl looks good,” Remus said when he came back into the kitchen. Janus glanced up from where he was laying balls of cookie dough out onto baking sheets.

“Thank you,” he replied. Howl was their dramatic fiddle leaf fig tree, which had decided to throw a fit just before Remus left. “I switched it to a terracotta pot with peat moss and pearlite, and doubled its water intake. It seems to be tolerating it well.”

“Good.” There was a long pause. Then,” How are you?”

Janus looked back to the cookies. “I’m doing well,” he lied. “And you? Do you start class soon?”

“Next week,” Remus answered. “And, uh. Yeah, I’m doin’ good.” Another long pause. “Uh… I’ll just. Head out, I guess.”

“You could stay,” Janus blurted out. Shit. “For dinner, I mean.” He gestured to the tray of lasagna, fresh from the oven. “If you want.”

Remus gave him an uncharacteristically shy smile, then nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything, though, so Janus just gestured for him to take a seat at the table. And then he joined him, a plate of lasagna for each of them.

“So tell me, how’s living with Roman again?” Janus asked, a few bites into the meal, because he could not take the awkward silence a moment longer.

“It’s ok,” Remus answered. He shoveled another forkful of lasagna into his mouth. “This is really good, Jan.”

Janus smiled softly. “Thank you.” A pause. “Roman doesn’t mind all the plants?”

“Nah, he’s dating this guy Patton who apparently loves plants, so the apartment being full of houseplants is a huge plus to him now.”

“Good for him.” The oven timer went off, startling him slightly. He started to get up, but Remus waved him off.

“I got ‘em, you did all the cooking.”

Janus didn’t protest. Remus got up and took the cookies out of the oven. And he even moved them to a cooling rack like Janus had taught him to do. He came back to the table.

“How’s work?”

Janus sighed. “Oh, terrible as always,” he answered. “I really must start looking for a new job.”

“Finally getting fed up?” Remus teased. Janus rolled his eyes. More seriously, Remus continued, “You deserve better, Jan. You gotta find some place that treats you right and pays you what you’re worth.”

“Thank you, Remus.”

“And hey, just sayin’, I still think you’d make an excellent stripper.”

Janus snorted at that. “I haven’t fully ruled out that particular career change.”

They fell easily back into their usual banter, lingering late into the night over a dessert of milk and cookies. It was pushing 10pm when Remus glanced at his phone and cursed softly. Janus glanced at his phone as well.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so late,” he said. Remus shrugged.

“Nah, it’s cool. Thanks for dinner, Jan. It was real good, as always.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Uh… well, the plan was to stay with Logan, but I guess he had some kind of family emergency, so I don’t wanna trouble him. I’ll probably see if I can find a hotel room.”

Janus’ brow furrowed at that. “Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Oh, uh. I don’t wanna trouble you. I kinda feel like I already overstayed my welcome a bit?”

“Nonsense. A hotel room will cost you at least $100 for the night, and that’s simply ridiculous,” Janus insisted. “You should just stay here.”

Remus worried at his lip, which Janus knew meant he was mulling over his options. Then, he nodded. “If it’s not a bother?”

“Of course not. You’re not a bother, Remus.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and he smiled. “Ok. Thank you. Oh�� lemmie go get my overnight back outta my truck.”

When Remus came back inside, Janus had just about finished making up the couch.

“Hey, you don’t gotta get all fancy,” Remus teased. “You know I can sleep basically anywhere.”

“This is for me,” Janus replied. He fluffed up one of the pillows a bit more. “You take the bed.”

An odd look flashed across Remus’ face. “No way, Jan. I’m good on the couch.”

“Remus, you just drove eight hours, and you’re doing it again tomorrow. I am not letting you fuck up your back.”

‘I don’t-”

“Yes you do, no matter how often you say you can sleep anywhere,” Janus scoffed. “You can’t lie to me.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and after a moment, he sighed. “Ok, Jan. But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You hate sleeping on couches.”

“It’s only one night-”

“And don’t you work tomorrow?”

“Yes, but-”

“You’re going to be so grumpy at work without a proper night’s sleep.”

“I’m usually grumpy at work anyway,” Janus pointed out. Remus snorted.

“Ok, that’s true. But I don’t want you to be even grumpier,” he said. “Let’s just share the bed.”

Janus eyed him for a moment. This was a terrible idea. They should not do this.

“Ok,” Janus said anyway.

They got ready for bed in awkward silence, which just made Janus miss Remus’ long, rambling chatter that much more. When Janus finished in the bathroom, he found Remus sitting gingerly on what used to be his side of the bed. Janus came over and sat down on the other side.

“Hey, uh… thanks,” Remus said. “For lettin’ me stay.”

“Of course,” Janus answered. “I… I still think of you as a friend, Remus.”

At that. Remus grimaced slightly. He didn’t say anything, seeming unable to find the right words. Before he could, Janus pulled back the top blankets on the bed and laid down. After a moment, Remus did the same.

“Good night, Remus,” Janus said quietly.

“...Good night, Janus,” Remus answered. Then he reached over and shut off the light.

Remus played that night over and over in his head in the days after he got home, and each and every time, he was just as stumped.

He knew, in his brain, why he and Janus had broken up. It had been the only thing that made sense at the time, when the facts were just that Remus was moving away to pursue a lifelong dream, and Janus would never ever try to stop him from doing so. So they broke up. It made sense… right?

But… That morning, he’d woken up to Janus curled up in his arms, face smushed against Remus’ neck, and… Remus had completely forgotten why they had even broken up in the first place.

Remus was back at Roman’s apartment, now. Eight hours away in his own cold bed, arms empty of the man he loved, just staring at the ceiling. A sharp knock on his door snapped him out of his daze.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” Roman called. “Don’t you have class in like an hour?”

“Fuck!” Remus scrambled to get up, but succeeded only in rolling out of the bed.

“Don’t forget to lock the door when you leave,” Roman added. Clearly he was unconcerned by the loud “thump” of a body hitting the floor.

“Yup, got it,” Remus groaned in reply. He staggered, successfully this time, to his feet.

Getting dressed was a rushed affair of ‘grab whatever’s closest,’ and soon he emerged from the bedroom with one shoe on, the other in his hand, and his backpack slung over one shoulder. He rushed into the kitchen to grab the travel mug of coffee Janus always set out for him in the mornings. And then the realization hit: Janus didn’t live here.

Remus dropped his shoe.

The rest of the day went about as well as it could have gone without any coffee- that is to say, terribly. He got lost trying to get to campus, then he got lost again trying to get to class. Then he got stuck in traffic on the way back to Roman’s apartment. And then, to top it all off, the grocery store had been out of his favorite chips.

So here he was, mopey and chip-less, and fucking exhausted. He dumped his backpack and collapsed face-first onto the couch. Roman, who happened to be sitting on said couch, made a noise of protest.

“Move, I need to sulk,” Remus mumbled, though his voice was thoroughly muffled by Roman’s thigh, since that was where his face had landed.

“What on earth do you need to sulk for?” Roman asked incredulously. He moved to shove Remus off of him, but Remus went full ragdoll, and Roman couldn’t do a damn thing. “You are a grown man, you know.”

Remus turned his head just enough to stick his tongue out at Roman. Roman stuck his tongue out back.

“I had a terrible day, I earned a good sulk.”

“Didn’t like your classes?”

“Nah, they were great.”

“Professors?”

“Great.”

“Classmates?”

“Great.”

“Then Zeus Almighty, what are you so mopey-dopey about?” Roman remanded.

Remus squirmed around so he was laying on his back, head still in Roman’s lap, to look up at his brother. “So… uh… you promise not to get all, like. I told you so and shit?”

“You miss Janus!”

“No! I-”

“You do!” Roman crowed triumphantly. Remus rolled onto his side so he didn’t have to look at his brother’s dumb gloaty face.

“...Maybe,” he groaned. Abruptly, he clamored to his feet and started for the stairs. “I gotta go build a chair.”

“Carpentry won’t solve your relationship problems,” Roman called after him.

“I know,” Remus called back. “Wrong type of wood.” If Roman had a response to that, Remus was already out the door and didn’t have to hear it.

Patton found him out in front of the apartment building some time later, a jigsaw in hand, and a pile of cut wooden dowels at his feet.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you up to?”

Remus looked up from where he was balancing a plank of wood precariously across a milk crate, because his work table was one of the things he’d had to leave behind at Janus’ place.

“Oh, hey. Ro-bro’s upstairs.”

Patton gave him the sort of smile teachers gave to the kid they caught eating glue for the fourth time. “That doesn’t look super safe. Do you want any help?”

Remus took in Patton’s soft blue sweater and the dad-jeans from the nicer end of his closet, as well as the reusable grocery store bag that smelled suspiciously like some kind of lovely home-cooked meal; he shook his head. “You look dressed for a date night,” he said. “I don’t wanna fuck up two relationships this week.”

Patton’s eyes, impossibly, got even bigger and softer than they normally were, which honestly was quite the feat. He walked over to the stairs but, instead of making his way up to Roman’s apartment, he plopped down on the third step, facing Remus. Remus stared, bewildered.

“Uh, what’chu doin’ there, pops?”

“Well, it just sounded like you needed to talk,” Patton replied cheerfully. “So here I am.”

Remus stared a moment longer, somehow even more bewildered than before. “Uh…”

“I know I haven’t known you very long,” Patton continued. “But something tells me you’re the type of person who busts out the power tools when you’re upset.”

“How the hell can you tell that?”

Patton glanced over his shoulder, then leaned forward slightly. “Because,” he said, voice lowered conspiratorially. “I’m like that too.”

Remus blinked. “You?”

“Yup! I replaced all the tables and chairs in my house with ones I made myself after my last breakup,” Patton giggled. “Only two of them collapsed when I sat in them, too!”

Remus glanced down at the jigsaw in his hands, and then he sighed. He set it down, and went to sit next to Patton on the steps.

“Ok, well. Yeah, maybe I’m kinda upset.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah? No? Maybe?”

“Yup, those are your three options!” Patton teased. Remus rolled his eyes.

“Ok, fine. You win, daddy-o. I’m upset because I miss my boyfriend. Or, well, my ex-boyfriend. I want him to be my boyfriend again.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Of course not,” Remus whined.

“Why not?”

“Because… I mean. It wouldn’t change anything. I still moved away. And I don’t even know if he’d want to be my boyfriend again either. Maybe he’s happier now.”

“You don’t know that,” Patton said gently. “Sure, maybe the circumstances aren’t the best right now, but if you both want it, things have a funny way of working out. But you have to talk to him.”

“I…” Remus paused. And then he sighed deeply. “I guess you’re right. Hey thanks, that did actually sorta help.”

Patton offered him a gentle smile. “Of course, Remus! Any time!”

“Hey!”

They both turned to see Roman standing at the top of the stairs, arms crossed.

“My own brother, hogging my boyfriend like this! The betrayal-”

“Relax, Ro, he’s not my type,” Remus shot back. “I prefer sarcastic little menaces.”

Patton giggled at that. He stood up and patted Remus on the shoulder. “I hope things work out,” he said. Remus smiled back.

“Yeah, I hope so too.”

Really, he just wanted Janus to be happy. Ideally with him, but if Janus was happier without him, well… so be it.

- - -

Janus was miserable.

“Dude, c’mon,” Virgil grumbled, immediately upon seeing the state of the apartment. “You’ve been watering your plants and filling the humidifiers, but you can’t be bothered to throw out your gross pizza boxes?” A pause. “Wait, you don’t even like pizza, what the hell.”

Janus just shrugged. After letting Virgil and Logan into the apartment, he’d gone straight back into blanket-burrito-on-the-couch mode. And really, he’d only bothered to get up and let them inside in the first place because Virgil had threatened to axe down the door- and Janus knew for a fact that Virgil owned multiple axes.

“I believe he is engaging in what is described as ‘emotional eating,’ or using food as a coping mechanism in a time of stress and emotional turmoil,” Logan said helpfully. Virgil just huffed.

“That’s fine and all, but Jesus Christ, dude.” He gestured around the livingroom where… ok, yeah, it was a mess.

“Did you two come here just to insult me?” Janus grumbled. His face was half-mashed into a pillow, though, so who knows how much of that was actually discernible.

“We came to make sure you were still alive,” Virgil snapped, indicating that at least most of what Janus had said was discernible. “You weren’t answering any texts.”

“Yes, and you called out of work three days in a row,” Logan added. “We are concerned for you, Janus.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Janus lied from the comfort of his depression blanket burrito. He was not particularly surprised when neither Virgil or Logan looked even remotely convinced.

“Alright, drastic measure time,” Virgil growled. He walked over to the window, and picked up the young Burgundy Rubber Tree Janus had yet to name. Janus sat bolt upright.

“Virgil? Don’t you dare-”

Virgil walked past him and vanished down the hall. When he came back, his hands were empty, and he had a smirk on his face.

“Oh, fuck you,” Janus hissed. He dragged himself up off the couch to go rescue the poor thing, finding it stashed in the dark, windowless bathroom. When he came back to the livingroom, Virgil and Logan were sprawled across the couch.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Janus set the rubber tree back on the windowsill alongside the Snake Plant Army. “Ok, I’m up. Are you heathens happy now?”

“I take offense to that,” Logan muttered, while Virgil just crossed his arms and said, curtly, “Spill it.”

“Spill what?”

“Why are you so upset?”

“I’m not upset-”

“Falsehood,” Logan interrupted. “I have known you since high school, Janus, and I have never seen you like this before. It is highly alarming.”

“Is this about Remus?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Janus said immediately. “Of course not.”

Virgil and Logan exchanged a Look. Janus groaned.

“Fuck. Ok, fine. Maybe it is.”

“Was that so hard?” Virgil asked.

“Yes.”

“You-”

“Janus,” Logan interrupted Virgil’s retort. “It is my understanding that emotional distress is often alleviated through, as they say, ‘talking it out.’ It is clear you are not handling the break-up as well as you initially believed-”

“Of course I’m not!” Janus snapped. He took a deep breath, and turned back to the plants on his windowsill. Kaa, the Sansevieria Moonshine Remus had gotten for Janus as an anniversary present last year, was already leaning slightly toward the window again. He rotated it, and a few of the other snake plants on the sill. And then he realized the others had been quiet for far too long. He turned to find them both watching him with sympathetic expressions. “What?”

“Keep going,” Virgil prompted. Janus sighed. He felt exhausted.

“Of course I’m not,” he said again. “Because I love Remus.”

“And?” Virgil prompted.

“...And I didn’t want us to break up,” he finished, feeling glum. Wordlessly, Virgil stood up, and approached Janus, arms out. Janus stepped into the embrace. Nobody said anything; Janus didn’t cry, but he stood there for a long time. Then, he stepped back.

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it. Virgil gave him a small smile. Logan cocked his head, seeming confused.

“I don’t understand. You just… needed a hug?”

“Hugs are great, Logan,” Virgil replied. “You should try them sometime- hey, where are you going?”

Janus strode past them both, beelining for his bedroom to find his laptop. Over his shoulder, he answered, “To fill out some job applications.”

- - -

Remus was outside building a new bookshelf- because Patton was moving in, and Roman's teenie-tiny sad little excuse for a bookshelf, which held only Disney DVDs and no actual books, wouldn’t suffice for all of Patton’s cookbooks- when his phone rang. Which was weird, because nobody ever called him, because he never fucking answered.

“Not interested, Mr. Spam Man,” he crooned over the sound of the generic iPhone ringtone. He was learning how to do kerf bending for this bookcase, and goddamn it he wasn’t going to be distracted by-

His phone started ringing again. He swore and ripped off his gloves to silence his phone. But as he did so, he realized the number flashing across his screen was a familiar one.

“Janus? Are you ok?” he answered the call, half panicked, because Janus hated phone calls almost as much as he did.

“Hi. Yes, everything’s fine.” Janus sounded slightly hysterical, which made Remus feel even more frantic. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Roman’s. Are you sure you’re ok-”

“Great, don’t leave. I’ll be right there.”

“What does that mean-” Remus demanded, but the line was already dead. Remus swore again. He briefly considered calling him back, because what the actual fuck was that all about, but he was only about 30 seconds into that brief consideration before a familiar car tearing through the apartment complex parking lot caught his attention. He quickly brushed as much of the sawdust off his clothes as he could because holy shit Janus had just parked right there in front of Roman’s apartment.

Remus watched, dumbfounded, as Janus scrambled out of his car- dressed in his very nice black suit and pale yellow button-up- and came running across the lawn toward where Remus was working. He had a tiny plant clutched to his chest.

“Uh, Jan, you good?” Remus asked. Janus stopped in front of him and doubled over, breathless, for a few moments. Then, he straightened up, and fixed Remus with a look of sheer determination.

“Remus. I want to get back together.”

Remus’ heart, the traitorous bastard, leaped up into his throat and blocked all his words from coming out.

“It’s… it’s ok if you don’t want that,” Janus continued. His look of determination faltered slightly. “It’s ok. But I needed to tell you. Because I love you, so much. And I… I didn’t want you to think I didn’t, even if you don't-”

Remus found his words abruptly. “Jan, fuck! I do! I do love you. I never stopped loving you. All I want is to be with you.”

Janus’ eyes softened. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Good, because I’ve just been offered a job here.”

Remus choked. Janus was eyeing him smugly. “You. Just like that, you got a job here?”

“Just like that,” Janus grinned. “I just came from the interview. They offered me a position on the spot.”

Remus couldn't help himself any longer. He lurched forward and pulled Janus tightly into his arms.

“Hey, be careful,” Janus said, though he made absolutely no effort to get out of Remus’ embrace. “You’ll crush our new son.”

Remus pulled back just enough to look at the small plant Janus held in his hands, and only then did his brain register what it was.

“Is! Is that-”

“Yes,” Janus replied, holding up the tiny Drosera Capensis seedling. Remus had wanted one of these for ages.

“For me?”

“Well, for us, ideally,” Janus answered, with a shy smile. “But, mostly for you, yes.”

Remus gently plucked the baby octopus plant- their new son!- from Janus’ hands, and placed it carefully on top of the milk crate that was serving as his carpentry workbench. Then, he hoisted Janus up off the ground and spun him around.

“Oh- Re-” Janus exclaimed, though he was laughing. “Put me down!”

“No!” Remus trilled. He spun Janus around once more. Then he just stood there, holding Janus, gazing up at him. Janus’ eyes grew soft. Slowly, he carded his fingers through Remus’ hair.

“Hey,” Janus said.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Remus set Janus down, but kept his arms still wrapped tightly around him. His heart felt warm.

“Hey.”

Janus looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“I love you, too.”

#dukeceit #dukeceitweek #remus sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #kye writes

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kingreywrites · 3 years

Text

There Beside You

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 2912

Eugene Appreciation Week Day Three: Home

Summary: Eugene gets sick and needs to rest. His friends and family check up on him, because what's a home if not people taking care of you when you need it?

Note: this is... an extremely self-indulgent sickfic asfhdghj hope you enjoy!!

Read on ao3

At first, Eugene had blamed his headache on the amount of paperwork he had to go through that day. Being Captain was something he loved, but it did involve filling a lot more forms than he had expected, and sometimes he grew tired of looking at papers all day.

Except that his headache came as soon as he woke up. And with that, the constant shivering, despite having closed the window in his office. Ah, and he was also bone-tired, for some reason. In all honesty, he had an inkling that whatever that was, it was not paperwork induced, but Eugene was trying to power through, hoping that this was simply an off day.

He did not remember laying his head on his desk, or closing his eyes.

"-don't know Pete, this isn't like him," Eugene heard, somewhat distantly. He felt cold all over. His cheek was smushed on what felt like paper, and he hoped that he hadn't wrinkled whatever it was too much. Or worse, drooled on it. God, was he drooling? No, no, his mouth was shut, and felt drier than a desert too. Why was he-

"Eugene?" Stan whispered, way closer than before. Eugene felt a hand on his shoulder and startled.

In his mind, he was going to straighten up quickly, but in reality, he blinked sluggishly, tried to raise his head, realised that he felt way too nauseous for that and buried it in his hands. Yay.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "I was just... uh..."

"Sleeping on the job?" Pete offered helpfully. "Which is totally okay!" he hastily added. "It can stay between us!" Eugene groaned from behind his hands.

There was no way the entire castle wouldn't be aware of his untimely nap now. He gave it twenty minutes, tops.

"You okay Eugene?" Stan asked. "You really look, uh… tired."

"Didn't sleep well," he muttered. That was partly a lie, because he did sleep all night without a hitch, he simply woke up without feeling rested at all. Sighing, he finally raised his head fully, a dull ache at the base of his neck making itself known. The room was way brighter than he remembered it being.

"You sure? Because-"

"Yes Stan, thank you, I just-"

Eugene tried to get up while he was talking, so he could avoid falling back asleep on his desk. However, he understood very quickly that this was a bad idea - it was as if his entire body became too warm at once, and then he was looking at the ground, Stan's arms around him and keeping him from actually falling on his face.

Huh.

Pete's shrill voice was echoing loudly in his ears, as was Stan's panicked exclamation that he had a fever, and just like that, Eugene knew the next few hours (days?) were going to be a pain.

------

Eugene didn't have to open his eyes again to feel the curious and intense gaze that laid on him.

"Varian," he muttered, voice not as strong as he had hoped, "I told you I'm fine."

He opened one eye just in time to see his friend pout from behind his goggles, quickly hiding the contraptions he was apparently trying to put on Eugene when he saw the older man looking at him.

"What's that?" Eugene asked suspiciously.

"Wha- Nothing!" Varian waved his hands in the air, immediately betrayed by the sound of something crashing on the ground behind him. He grinned awkwardly. "Nothing at all, yep."

"Liar!" Kiera exclaimed from the other side of the room, dashing to pick the thing up before Varian could even protest.

Eugene groaned as they started to chase each other, slowly stretching his legs and feeling how much he still wanted to go back to the sorta sleep thing he was doing before that. After the initial freakout of what felt like everyone in the castle, Eugene had managed to convince them that he just needed some rest, which was what he was doing. Or trying to do. He had hoped that lying down on the couch of his own bedroom (because he didn't feel like going to bed so early) would be enough to feel better, but that was without counting the guests that had invited themselves today. He didn't even know when the girls arrived.

A louder noise erupted, and he opened his eyes again to see Catalina dangling Varian and Kiera above the ground. In wolf form, of course. Eugene's head hurt too much for him to try to intervene and, at that point, he would give her an alibi if she needed one, as long as he got some quiet.

"How's my man feeling!" Lance exclaimed loudly as he opened the doors with a bang. Eugene cringed, trying to hide further under his duvet.

"Inside voice, Dad," Kiera mockingly reminded him, as if she hadn't been fighting with Varian a second before.

"Ah yes sorry, what-" Lance paused, probably seeing for the first time the position the kids were in. A dull thud also told Eugene Catalina probably released the others at this exact moment. "You know what, I'm not even going to ask. Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, Eugene!"

Eugene wanted to be forgotten right now. He felt miserable, probably looked miserable too, and absolutely hated the fact that he was. Lance, who knew him better than most people, also knew exactly the stuff that bothered him, and commented that his hair was a mess, gathering a hateful glare for this.

"There he is," he announced smugly.

"Fuck you," Eugene muttered in answer.

"Love you too, G-bug."

Lance was very lucky Eugene didn't feel like doing anything, because if he had been only a fraction better, he would have strangled him. He huffed when he felt his friend put his hand on his forehead, a shiver running through him.

"Oh yeah Stan was not kidding about that fever."

Given that Eugene felt like death warmed over, he could only guess what the others were feeling when they touched him.

"Ahem," Varian coughed from where he was still sitting. The kid got up, snatching his invention back from Kiera's hands. "You know, measuring someone's temperature with only skin contact isn't a very reliable method to get an accurate reading. Which is why I made- This!" he exclaimed, brandishing the contraption high in the air.

"Isn't it the stuff you use to make sure your boilers aren't about to explode?" Kiera asked drily.

"I repurposed it for human use! I just... never tried it, but it's very easy, you place it under your tongue and-"

"I'm not putting that in my mouth kid," Eugene interrupted.

"It's perfectly safe!"

"I trust you, I'm still not putting it in my mouth."

Varian grimaced, obviously searching for a convincing argument. "What if I try it so you can see it's safe?"

"I'm- I'm really not putting something you put in your mouth in mine." Catalina made a fake gagging sound to support his point, which was appreciated, and finally, Varian accepted that the debut of his invention wasn't for today.

Which was the moment Lance chose to help Eugene straighten up so he could drink. Eugene really didn't want to but his best friend insisted and so here he was, sitting with his head swimming, slowly sipping from a glass of water as Lance chattered in his ear. The kids were arguing about something else now, though Eugene couldn't have told you what, and even if he had wished for quiet, he had to admit this was nice too. He really didn't feel well, but it was better with people at his side.

"What are you guys even doing here?" he mumbled after a while. He had slipped a little on the couch and was now resting on Lance, who had his arm around his shoulder. "Varian was working here today but... You and the girls?"

"Oh you know, I was coming to visit my favourite people and it so happened to be the day when- okay, okay," Lance corrected when Eugene raised his eyebrows at him, knowing his lying voice far too well. "Rapunzel asked us if we could keep an eye on you while she's working."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"I'd take you more seriously if you weren't also cuddling me."

"Shut up."

Lance laughed and Eugene smiled, not really that upset. He had known Rapunzel was worried, and he had had a lot of trouble convincing her she didn't need to put the entire kingdom on pause so she could stay with him. Being sick sucked, but he wasn't dying, he simply needed some rest. But… He had to admit that having some company was nice.

The sound of bickering, Lance's voice telling him stories, all of that was familiar and comfortable in a way that made it easier for Eugene to doze off against Lance. He was somewhat aware of shivering still, and of the brush of fingers against his skin. He could hear murmurs around him, too.

He mumbled something when he felt himself move, but just as quickly, he was on his bed. It didn't take much more for him to completely fall asleep.

------

He thought he woke up once or twice to the sight of Pascal looking at him, but that could have also been a dream. Eugene wasn't sure. What he knew is that he kept oscillating between being way way too cold and way way too hot, which made for a frankly terrible sleep. Right now, he was on the hot side of things, and despite trying to kick his covers off, he could feel them still sticking to him.

Something cold and wet touched his forehead, and Eugene opened his eyes with a start, surprising...

"Your Majesty?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Arianna smiled, a wet cloth in her hand. From her shoulder, Eugene could see that Pascal was peering down at him too, a worried frown on his face.

Eugene blinked several times.

"What are you- I mean- What?" That made Arianna pause and he worried for a second that he was being rude, but she laughed instead, looking amused. "Sorry I just- did Rapunzel ask you to do this? Because you really don't have to."

"As a matter of fact, no she didn't. Lance did."

"Lance did," Eugene echoed, voice strangled. Lance asked his future mother-in-law to babysit him while he was sick. To be fair, Lance and Arianna had struck an... interesting friendship over the years, but Eugene was still easily flustered around her, and really wished she didn't have to see him like... this.

"But it's really no trouble," Arianna added, after a beat. "I'm keeping you company, while Pascal here is keeping me company. We... Everyone is worried about you, Eugene."

Pascal squeaked in affirmation, while Eugene just let out the faintest oh. He still kind of wanted to bury himself under his pillows. He really didn't want Arianna to see him in this state, even though it was too late for that.

"Your fever has climbed a lot this afternoon," Arianna explained, settling back on the chair she had installed next to his bed, "but it hasn't worsened in the last half-hour, so, hopefully that's a good sign."

Eugene hummed quietly, unsure of how to proceed. Pascal had abandoned his worry for his "You're being ridiculous" look, which Eugene felt was a bit unfair since he was sick and completely unprepared for this situation. Between his own awkwardness, Arianna's memory issues, the attack on Corona and its repercussions, they never really had a chance to become... friends? Maybe?

Though, of all the occasions to do so, being sick and feeling too weak to even sit up wasn't the one he would have picked.

"If you want..." Arianna trailed off, before picking up a book that he hadn't noticed was next to her. "I was reading this, with Pascal. Maybe I could..."

"Oh, uh," Eugene hesitated. He noticed for the first time that she seemed just as awkward as he was, and he wondered if she was thinking the same thing he did - that they never truly had the time to really get to know each other beyond their shared love for Rapunzel. "I- Yes, I'd like that, if that's okay," he finally answered.

Arianna smiled, and slowly, she started reading. She didn't sound very used to telling stories aloud, but she was trying, and Eugene appreciated the gesture more than she could imagine.

His only regret was falling asleep before he could hear the ending.

------

Eugene woke up to the soft touch of a hand on his forehead, mattress dipping a little as a new weight settled next to him. He didn't even have to open his eyes to know who it was, didn't even have to think about it for a tired smile to make its way on his face.

"Hey you," Rapunzel murmured when he slowly blinked his eyes open. Her hand was still on him, gently stroking his hair, and she was lying on the bed on his right. "How are you feeling?"

"Better now," he whispered, voice hoarse. "Can't feel too bad when you're here with me."

That made her chuckle, and he grinned. He wasn't even lying - he felt a little better than he did earlier, and had stopped shivering all the time. Right now, he was warm and comfortable, if a bit exhausted still.

"You'd flirt with me even if you were at death's door," Rapunzel said, more gentle than she had intended, happy wrinkles at the corner of her eyes.

"Hmm, I think experience has proved that I would come back from the dead to flirt with you."

Her eyes widened, before she burst out laughing, quickly lowering her own voice despite the giggles, mindful of his headache. He seldom made jokes about his own death to Rapunzel, the subject being a little touchy and all that, but when he did, they always landed.

"Let's not test that theory further," she snorted.

"Agreed," he sighed, before they lapsed into a comfortable silence again.

Despite the dimming light, he could see the love shining in her eyes, wild hair sticking up around her face after a long day of fiddling with it. He had seen her do it so often that he could imagine it clearly, the way she would run her fingers through her hair, eyes narrowed in concentration - or how she would simply shake her head to get stray strands out of her vision. It was the cutest thing to witness, in Eugene's absolutely unbiased opinion.

Rapunzel booped his nose, breaking him out of his reverie.

"I'm gonna ask you to stop looking so cute when I can't kiss you," she joked.

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing," Eugene smiled. "I've always hated being sick, but this is, by far, the worst thing about it."

And it wasn't... It wasn't that much of an exaggeration. Before meeting Rapunzel, he had hated being sick because that nearly always meant he spent the day alone and miserable, with, if he was lucky, someone coming to check on him once or twice. When he lived on the streets as a thief, sicknesses were also often synonymous with death - if not because of the illness in itself, but because someone took advantage of it to take revenge on you. Thankfully, Eugene hadn't fallen sick often, but he had always dreaded the possibility of it.

But now... He thought about the day he spent, being constantly checked on by the people he loved. He thought about the warm hands on his forehead, the voices trying to stay quiet for his sake, the worry and the love all directed at him. He thought about having a family he could count on, a home in all meanings of the word, and... And now, the worst thing about being sick, was the danger of passing it to someone he loved, even though he knew that if it happened, he would be there for them the same way they had been for him.

No matter how many years had passed, it still surprised him, sometimes, to realise how much his life had changed for the better.

"Come here," Rapunzel muttered, before sneaking her arms closer to him and bringing him into a tight hug. "Not a kiss," she whispered next to his ear, "but still good."

He chuckled, melting into her embrace, finding comfort in the way he could feel her breathe against him.

"I'm pretty sure I could still get you sick that way," he mumbled, resting his head on the cool skin of her shoulder, "but yeah, this is good. I missed you today."

"I missed you too. You're not allowed to be sick when I have work."

"I'll reschedule next time," he laughed.

Slowly, he could feel his fatigue come back, his eyelids heavier with every blink. He didn't want to sleep right now - not when he was finally feeling a little better, and Rapunzel was here - but his hold on her kept getting slacker, and he knew he wouldn't stay awake for much longer.

"I love you," Rapunzel whispered, kissing his hair gently.

"Love you too, Sunshine," he answered. Or tried to. He wasn't too sure that anything he said was understandable, but she was still holding him close, and he knew she got it. At worst, he could say it again tomorrow, and every day of his life too.

#tangled #tangled the series #Eugene Fitzherbert #Lance Strongbow #Queen Arianna #Rapunzel

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coffeestainsandcashmere · 3 years

Text

Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - (older Dramione), Part Three

Wow! Thank you so much for your feedback and apparent enthusiasm for the previous parts, and for your excitement to see more in the future! I never imagined it’d get any traction, but I’m staggered and touched to see that people are enjoying it!

Here’s part three for you, as promised. I had written twice as much as this (around 7k in total) for part three, but I split it up into two. Part Four will go up tomorrow after I’ve given it another once-over. It’s tooth-rottingly adorable really. There’s pizza involved. And a little delving into the past.

Content warnings for part three: unexpected run-in with Ron, passing mention of past alcohol abuse (Ron), and general prejudices against Slytherins. Again, this isn’t supposed to be a Ron-bashing story, but relationships do break down when fundamental beliefs don’t align. If I seem harsh on Ron, I don’t really mean to be. Hermione also isn’t perfect or unbiased, but she has perhaps slightly more reason to be upset with him than he does with her. It will all be explained in a later part, I promise, but it has been hinted at already in the previous two parts.

Part One | Part Two

___

Friday found her lingering awkwardly in the Ministry’s echoing Atrium, waiting for Theo to come out of his last meeting of the day, up on level five. The problem with being the former Minister for Magic - and one so famously young - was that quite literally everyone knew who she was. So far, in the ten minutes she’d been standing there, a seemingly ceaseless line of twittering assistants and employees had come cringing up to her to ask if she needed anything.

She’d just sent the latest one packing with a tight-lipped ‘no, thank you. I’m just waiting for a friend,’ when someone cleared their throat behind her, and a familiar voice made her heart clench and her breath come short for half a moment.

“’Mione? What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Ron,” she sighed, even before she turned to face him.

In the decade or so since their divorce, he’d actually done pretty well for himself. Gone was the lingering paunch that had crept in towards the tail end of his quidditch career, and now he looked… well, quite frankly, he looked really good. He reminded her of Charlie Weasley a little, with floppy, roguish hair and a surprisingly lean figure once more. Becoming the coach of an internationally-recognised quidditch team suited him, clearly. That, and a happier, second marriage with Lavender, she supposed.

“How are you?” she asked, trying not to sound too stiff and failing abysmally.

“Good,” he said, rocking back on his heels for a moment with his hands shoved into his pockets. “What, uh, what brings you here then? Miss the place too much?” he asked with a little snort of laughter.

“Hardly, Ron,” she said with perhaps a little too much feeling. “No, I’m waiting for Theo.”

At the mention of Theo’s name, Ron’s eyes darkened. “Why?” he blurted.

“Why? Because he’s my friend, Ronald,” she said. “And what are you doing here? Come to blag your way out of another ‘drunk and disorderly in possession of a broomstick’, hmm?”

She knew even as she said it that her snide comment was uncalled for, and that she was being disproportionately petty, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Something about his lingering, bone-deep resentment of the people with whom she chose to associate these days just brought out the worst in her even now. She wasn’t proud of it. In her defence though, how many times had he tried to use the whole ‘The Minister for Magic is my wife’ ploy to get out of scrapes like that in the past?

Ron’s freckled face flushed at that. “I’m clean and sober now, Hermione,” he said. “Have been for the past five years, which you’d know if you ever came to any of Harry’s dinners. We used to be the ‘Golden Trio’ for fuck’s sake…”

Very quietly, and with what she thought was a remarkable degree of renewed self-control, Hermione said, “Excuse me for not wanting to intrude on your happy family, Ron. I am pleased to hear that though. That’s no small achievement. Congratulations.”

“But you’d still rather go scuttling off with the Slytherins instead of having dinner with me and Harry?” he said, eyes flashing.

There it was. There was the comment — the little dig at her choices — that she’d been waiting for ever since she’d mentioned Theo’s name.

“I hear that you and that lot are pretty tight now. Even dragged Neville into it.”

Her already-simmering outrage crept a degree or two hotter beneath the surface, and Hermione blinked rapidly. “‘Dragged’ Neville? Is that what you call his perfectly healthy and happy relationship with Pansy?”

“He wouldn’t have had anything to do with her if it wasn’t for you and Nott meddling. He’d have settled down with Hannah instead of leaving her for some Slytherin trust-fund bitch. You know she’s still heartbroken about it?”

Her eyebrows rose. That wasn’t how it had happened at all, though she knew Hannah was still upset, and she’d just opened her mouth to say so when she felt the prickle of other people’s eyes on them.

“I’m not discussing this, Ron, and I’m certainly not starting something here in the Ministry Atrium, for God’s sake,” she said, turning away. Her ears were starting to ring as her magic crackled inside her and she took a long, steadying inhale to try and calm down. People were indeed starting to stare, and she thought she glimpsed Gabriella Guile lurking near the sandwich shop with one of Rita Skeeter’s bloody ‘Quick-Quotes Quills’ hovering at the ready. “Please, Ron.”

He stepped in close and snarled, “Well, at least some of us still remember where our loyalties lie.”

Hermione saw red at that and spun back round to face him, eyes flashing and hair expanding like a Devil’s Snare. “Loyalty?” she spat. “You — you of all people — want to lecture me about loyalty?!”

Clearly he hadn’t followed that thought through to its conclusion before opening his mouth. He turned beetroot red and took half a step back, hands up defensively. “Look, Mione, I’m sorry. I didn’t come over to start another fight. It’s not like I expected to see you here - you don’t even work here anymore, and it’s not like we hang out or anything. How was I to know?” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m meeting Harry when he gets off work and we’re going for a drink at the Leaky. Let’s... Lets just forget it, ok?”

A hand landing gently but firmly between her shoulders made her jump and she whipped round to find Theo standing behind her, looming over her from his six-foot-something height. “Alright, love?” he asked in a steady baritone without taking his eyes off Ron.

“Ready to go,” she said tartly. “Say hi to Harry for me, Ron.”

And with that, they left the Ministry by floo for Theo’s.

As she stepped out of the swirling green flames of the fancy, Mayfair town-house’s marble fireplace only a moment or so behind him, she found Daniel rising from the sofa to greet Theo with a kiss, and once Theo had moved off through the house to hang up his cloak, he opened his arms to hug her warmly.

Dan, always a pleasure,” she said. “How are you?”

The unexpected meeting with Ron left her oddly rattled. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen him at all in the decade since the divorce - his little sister was her own best friend, and she’d met Bill Weasley on more than one occasion during her time at the Ministry, but still, to see him doing so well for himself and to see him so happy should have made her pleased. After all the years of shared friendship that she genuinely cherished, she should have been happy for him.

Instead it galled and made her uncharacteristically bitter to know that he had everything he wanted now and he still couldn’t resist trying to rubbish the few things she had left of value in her life. Theo and Daniel were among her closest friends, and to her surprise, the rest of the Slytherins had adopted her into their little group without question.

“Let’s start a bit early, shall we?” Theo chimed as he re-entered the living room with three champagne flutes and a bottle of something French and no doubt eye-wateringly expensive floating in front of him. Since that left his hands free, he began undoing his cuff links as he walked. “The others should be here soon enough anyway, and I just closed a deal with the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France that I’ve been trying to hash out all year. Yay me.”

His flawless French accent made Hermione smile. Everything just seemed so easy and natural to Theo; it might have enviable if he weren’t such an affable sweetheart to go with it.

“Yay you,” Daniel chuckled, eyes glittering with affection as Theo handed Hermione a very full glass. “To my brilliant husband.”

Two hours later, amid the happy murmur of conversation that now filled the gorgeous, airy ground floor, Hermione looked up as the floo whooshed and Draco Malfoy stepped out. She’d begun to think he wasn’t going to show, and when she caught sight of him, a weight unexpectedly lifted from her chest. Something, at least, was going right today.

He had a heavy, black cloak around his shoulders and a bundle of brown paper parcels under one arm, printed with the logos of various Diagon Alley shops, though it was well past most of their closing times. She wondered where he’d been in the meantime, but didn’t want to pry.

Whether out of surprise or curiosity, the chatter in the living room sputtered out a little at his arrival before Pansy rose to her feet and flung her arms around his neck. “Draco, darling!” she laughed as she air-kissed his winter-pink cheeks and hissed melodramatically in his ear — loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear —, “I’m so glad you came; Blaise owes me ten galleons. He said you wouldn’t come.”

Draco twitched his lips fondly into something that was almost a smirk and unclasped his cloak as she stepped away from him. He folded it up neatly atop the parcels beside the now-still fireplace and shot her a look. “Glad to know how much my company is worth these days, Pans,” he drawled.

As he straightened, Hermione actually sank her teeth into her lower lip at the way his bespoke charcoal grey suit fitted him, accentuating his long, lean figure, with narrow hips and broad shoulders. He looked every bit the successful businessman while she was slouching around in the jeans and mauve hoodie she’d thrown on in the back room after closing the bookshop for the day. No wonder Pansy had given her an affectionately pitying grimace when she’d greeted her earlier.

Theo rose gracefully from his seat beside her on the sofa to join Draco and Pansy by the hearth, and he hugged Draco fondly, murmuring something in his ear. The two were almost a match in height, though where Theo’s hair was a warm, copper-streaked, chocolate brown and his skin a tanned, freckled olive, Draco’s hair and skin were almost as colourless as the marble fireplace behind him.

When Draco drew back this time, he spotted Hermione over Theo’s shoulder. He offered her a slow incline of his head, and allowed a clinking tumbler of whisky and ice to be pressed into his hand by Theo.

Hermione wasn’t really sure quite what she’d been expecting from Draco when she’d invited him to join Theo’s usual Friday night drinks. Whatever it had been though, it wasn’t the thoughtful, considerate conversationalist she now found engaging Neville in detailed discussion about the disadvantages of farming dittany commercially. For some reason, Draco’s icy exterior and apparently reclusive behaviour had made her think he might be socially awkward, but apparently one can’t train the upper-class manners out of someone once it’s been bred into their bloodline for umpteen generations, even after a dusty decade of disuse. Further to her surprise, he actually seemed genuinely interested in what Neville had to say about the difference in potency between rare, wild-harvested dittany and the farmed stuff.

Meanwhile, she just sat on the sofa with Neville on her left and Theo on her right, and only half-listened to the talk around her, not participating at all.

Despite everyone’s obvious enjoyment of the gathering, Hermione found herself unable to muster any of her usual social enthusiasm, and remained in pretty subdued silence. After a while, Neville politely excused himself to find Pansy, with an earnest promise to follow up on something or other for Malfoy, and his seat was not reoccupied.

In the lull, Malfoy took the opportunity to lean across the space from his armchair to the sofa and murmur, “Everything alright, Granger?”

From beside her, Theo looked round and slung his arm causally over her shoulders and squeezed. “Hermione had a small run in with her ex-husband in the middle of the Ministry Atrium.”

Draco’s eyes flashed and his lip curled minutely.

“Nothing dramatic, but the prick had the nerve to insinuate that Slytherins make for poor company. Luckily, dear Hermione reminded him that we’re not all still twelve years old...”

She managed a smile at that. “Don’t let me rain on your party, Theo, but I think... I think I will head home now.”

“Feel free to floo,” he breezed, waving the hand that had been around her shoulders with a flash of the gold signet ring on his little finger, “But obviously I’d much rather you stay and drink yourself into a giggling stupor again... It’s been far too long since that happened.”

“You drink yourself into a giggling stupor every Friday, Theo. I’m sure you can manage to do it again on my behalf tonight. I’d love to stay, but it’s all getting a bit... loud now anyway...” she said vaguely. “I think I’ll walk home.”

Theo just nodded and gave her an affectionate little wink that would have looked corny on anyone half as charming. “Take care of yourself, sweetheart. Say hello to whatever your book-du-jour is for me. Will it be Emily or Charlotte this time?”

Draco frowned in confusion and she laughed a little. “Charlotte.”

Still cleanly nonplussed, Malfoy looked from Theo to Hermione before Theo grinned at him. “Brontë,” he said conspiratorially. “Muggle author.” He looked back to Hermione and said, “Means it’s an evening with dear Jane Eyre then. Haven’t you read that a hundred times?”

“More, probably,” she chuckled, standing. “Goodnight, Draco. I’m glad you came. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

He nodded, looking slightly winded for some reason, and offered nothing else.

After saying goodbye to a few people, and finding that Pansy had somehow managed to drape herself successfully across Neville’s lap despite the fact that he was sitting on a bar stool of all things, Hermione headed for the front door and slipped out into the night alone.

With her coat still over the crook of one arm despite the biting wind, she made her way from Theo’s cushy house out into wider Muggle London, and from there she began to meander.

Just as she crossed the boundary into Hyde Park, she heard running feet and someone calling her name. To her surprise, she turned and found Malfoy loping along the pavement after her.

Halting, she waited for him to catch up and looked curiously up at him. His pale cheeks were flushed pink again from the bout of light exercise, his breath billowed white, and his hair seemed to glow like burnished silver in the harsh light of the street lamps. It was hard to doubt the rumours of him being part Veela in moments like that.

“What is it, Malfoy?” she asked when he didn’t articulate the reason for his hasty journey. “Did I forget something?”

“No, I —“ he faltered and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. The motion ruffled his hair into something altogether softer and more attractive. He cut it much shorter at the sides now but left the top longer, and it had an attractive wave to it that had once been oiled out of existence in his earlier years at Hogwarts. “I thought — ach, this was a stupid idea.”

“What do you mean? What was a stupid idea?”

“I thought I’d come after you and see if you were alright. You looked fucking miserable back there, Granger.”

“You taught your son foundation spellwork with that mouth, Malfoy?” she countered, slightly staggered by his apparent thoughtfulness. This was not the Malfoy she remembered at all, and it was gratifying to find that her experience of him over lunch had not been a one-off.

He smirked and the effect was disarming in a way it never had been at Hogwarts. “I do try not to swear around him, but if he’s learnt something uncouth, I couldn’t promise it didn’t come from me. Or Theo. Actually it’s more likely to have come from Theo.”

She laughed suddenly. “Your little mandrake,” she sighed.

Something odd passed across his face and he stuffed his hands into his jacket pocket. “Salazar’s balls,” he cursed. “It’s colder out here than I thought.”

Wandlessly, she murmured a spell to extend the radius of her own extant warming charm to surround them both. “Better?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Left my cloak and stuff back at Theo’s.”

Hermione smiled and gestured with the arm holding her coat. “I’d offer you mine, but I’m not sure even you could pull off a Muggle women’s rain mac that’s several sizes too small for you.”

“Oh I don’t know,” he said. “I think I could transfigure it into something… workable.”

“You sound just like Theo and Dan and Pansy,” she groaned. “They’re always threatening to take me shopping. I’m terrified to let them loose on my wardrobe. I’m afraid I’ll never see another pair of comfy jeans again!”

“Don’t listen to them. The way you dress is just fine,” he said easily. “Besides, you give that lot an inch and they’ll take a mile. You should always stand your ground, especially against Pansy…”

“Well, I’ve got Nev on my side too,” she said. “Though even I have to admit that she’s had a positive effect on his wardrobe. Maybe I should let her take me shopping after all... I probably couldn’t afford the places she shops though,” she laughed, then looked up to find an odd light in Malfoy’s grey eyes. “You really came haring through London after me just to check I was alright?”

“And walk you home if you’d like,” he added. “But I’ll leave you in peace if I’m imposing. Heavens know you’ve had one pushy bloke to deal with already today...”

“The last thing I think of you right now is ‘pushy’, Malfoy. I think you’re very kind to come after me.”

He looked away at that and a private smile graced his lips. Bloody hell though; where some people’s looks seemed to have been watered down with age, Malfoy’s features had been honed and refined by time into something akin to a masterpiece, with high, sharp cheekbones and a slim, and clearly very fit and healthy, figure. It made her stomach swoop and ache again in a way she hadn’t felt in years. It also made her feel a little self-conscious of the softer curves she was carrying around her hips, arms, and lower stomach these days. Hefting books around kept her strong, but a largely sedentary life in the bookshop wasn’t doing wonders for her once-svelte figure, it had to be said.

He nudged his elbow out a few inches and she smiled, taking the offer and sliding her fingers into the crook of his arm.

They set off and walked slowly, aimlessly, along the walkways of Hyde Park, and for a long time neither of them spoke. A cyclist shot past them at one point, and Malfoy watched him disappear into the distance with an inquisitive frown, as if trying to figure out how it could possibly function. He never said anything though, and they carried on, warmed by Hermione’s spell and encased in an oddly amicable silence.

It was Malfoy who broke the silence at last. “You find this strange, Granger?” he asked, glancing down at her.

Her breath caught as she stared up into those full-moon eyes of his; bright and silver and so god-damned intense. Gone was the pinched look of fear and insecurity lingering in the corners. Gone was the cruel, steely glint. The lines of his face were still hard and severe, and he carried a hefty frown most of the time, and that trademark pointy chin was still there, but he really had grown up, inside and out, and it showed.

“Strange?” she croaked. “What, you and me walking arm in arm through Hyde Park at seven in the evening?”

“Mmm,” he nodded.

“A little,” she admitted as she looked ahead up the path. “A little.”

Part Four

___

As before, if you like where it’s going and want to see more, do let me know! I will post it on Tumblr as I write it, and once it’s all complete, I’ll plop it onto AO3 in one go. That way keeps the pressure off a bit, I think? Anyway, let me know if you’re enjoying it, and why, either by reblogging this or sending me an ask

writing masterlist | Ao3

#dramione #older dramione #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger x draco malfoy #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dramione fic #older dramione fic #hermione x draco #let no man steal your thyme

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danny-chase · 3 years

Photo

Breaking a Promise - Read on AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Titans (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), The New Titans (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Dick Grayson/Joseph Wilson Characters: Dick Grayson, Koriand'r (DCU), Joseph Wilson Additional Tags: tw for self harm, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Angst, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Canon Divergence, emotional breakdown, Broken Bones, description of injury, star crossed lovers, Flowers, Canonical Character Death, it's Joey guys, I'm Sorry, Swearing, lot of f bombs, POV Dick Grayson, Dick grayson centric, Dick Grayson is bi, Dick Grayson is Bad at Feelings, Dick Grayson is Discowing, Dick Grayson Needs Therapy, Dick Grayson Whump, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, a little bit of fluff near the top, Gardening, when your gf is poly and ships you with someone else, Heartbreak, Heartache, no beta we die like -sobs- Joey, Hurt/Comfort, and then hurt/no comfort to follow it up Series: Part 5 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

The one where Dick Grayson has his heartbroken twice.

Full story under cut

Two years ago:

“Dick, what about this one?” Kor’i smiled sweetly, positively glowing in the sun. She gestured to a little potted plant sitting in the shade of the bottom rack. Her hair fluttered in the wind, seeming to sweep up his heart as well. Crouching, he gently bumped her shoulder, and she nudged him back. Perfect.

“Why don’t we look over there?” Dick asked, pointing over to another shelf.

“But I like this one.” She pouted, puffing out her bottom lip slightly. He glanced at the little sprout she picked out, his mind happily buzzing as he identified it without looking at the tag – botany lessons with Alfred had paid off.

“Lamprocapnos spectabilis.” He began. Kor’i nuzzled her head on his shoulder, reaching out a hand to stroke the leaves. He grabbed the little tag sticking out of the pot. “This one is of the Valentine variety.”

“Mmm.” She rested her hand back on Dick’s thigh, warmth spreading from the spot. “Tell me more.” He swallowed and complied.

“They’re a perennial – they come back annually. They like full or partial shade, and are native to Siberia, Japan, northern China, and Korea.”

“How big will it get?” She asked, rising to her feet, carrying the plant with her.

“About yay high.” He spread his hands two feet. “But Kor’i, uh, I can’t just give that to Joey it’s-”

“Commonly known as the bleeding heart?” She smiled mischievously. “I don’t see why not, your heart bleeds all the time.” She innocently widened her eyes, batting her eyelashes. “Or is it because it symbolizes love? Do you not love him?” Doubt was as clear in her voice as it was in her face.

“I-” He stammered; he would never cheat. “I love you.” Heat rose to his face. “Only you.”

Kor’i was perfect, she was so loving, always building him up, never tearing him down. Always healing, nurturing, growing seeds of her own – not just in him, she seemed to bring out the best in everyone she met. People basked in her beauty, and he simply basked in the knowledge of her presence. In being loved so fully, so openly and honest. Dick didn’t know if he could ever love anyone more.

“Oh.” Kor’i looked thoughtfully at the clear cerulean sky. “I wouldn’t mind if you… loved someone else too.” He frowned.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I did, but Kor’i, you’re the only one for me.” He stood, lightly pecking her on the cheek. She grinned, grabbing his hand, dragging him towards the checkout line.

“I like this one, forget silly earth symbolisms, Joey would love it.”

Dick sighed, following along anyways – she was right, of course, she always was – Joey would love the flowers, they were pals after all, he wouldn’t read too much into it.

One year ago:

A cool breeze snaked its way over the hillside, finding its way around the rock at his back and through his hair – leaving him disheveled in its wake. A chill rain up his spine, goosebumps swiftly decorating his arms. He could feel his hair slowly rise up, standing in a desperate bid to retain heat.

Dick wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, knees tucked to his chest, head resting on his crossed arms. Too long likely. He should be back to the tower soon – he didn’t want anyone to worry, but after the mess on Tamaran, it was best for him to be alone right now.

He was just… so tired. He’d already destroyed half his punching bags trying to fight the emotion out – which had worked to some extent, leaving his hands throbbing and arms burning. He sprinted as far as he could go before his legs gave out. It had dulled the anger and pain, leaving him worn out and exhausted. The dull ache in his chest returned just as soon as it had left.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at the night sky – he’d come out here for comfort – to watch the waves lap against the rocks from far above and gaze up at the stars. But the stars could never shine brighter than Kor’i, only serving to remind him of what he’d lost when he’d ventured too close to the sun.

It wasn’t fair – Kor’i hadn’t loved Karras though they were together – legally bound, and he was here, light years spanning the distance between those bound by their souls.

He never believed in love in first sight. Not until he’d met her.

He’d always believed in love, though, from the time he was a child – his parents were living proof. It was foolish – his parents had died hadn’t they? Believing in their love until the bitter end, loving their lives, each other, him. It was love that kept them on the trapeze all those years, and that love had killed them.

He sighed, maybe Bruce was right – love wasn’t something compatible with their lifestyle. He never shared himself so fully with others or lost himself so fully either. Always playing cat and mouse with his lovers, never committing, communing with another soul the way he had with Kor’i.

He licked his chapped lips, tasting salt in the air. Light footsteps padded towards him. He curled further in on himself, not in the mood to talk. A rough woolen blanket dropped over his shoulders.

It smelled like crisp green apples, mixed with a hint of cinnamon.

Adeline Wilson had great tastes in laundry detergent – something she’d handed down to her son.

Joey crouched next to him, wrapping an arm around him, offering warmth and comfort. Dick hesitated, mind screaming to recoil, run away – be alone and repress, but heart yearning for the warmth and comfort he always seemed to find in Joey. That same warmth reminded him of Kor’i.

The desire for comfort won out, loosening up, he leaned against Joey’s shoulder. Joey’s chin nestled into the base of his neck; soft puffs of warm, wet air sent tingles down his spine. He raised his head a little dislodging Joey, feeling weirdly uncomfortable – but not displeased – just – he’d think about that later, now wasn’t the time.

Joey quickly backed off, removing his arm. Dick gave him a side glance and for a moment, lost himself in kind emerald eyes. <em>He isn’t Kor’i</em>. Why was that so hard to remember?

It took him a minute to process Joey signs. ‘Your hands.’ He followed his gaze down to his numb fingers. Upon seeing them he was hit by the realization they hurt like hell. He probably should have remembered to wear gloves, or at least wrap them, before taking his frustration out on punching bags.

His right hand had swollen, both had bruises blossoming, his skin rubbed raw, blood freely dripping from busted knuckles.

“Fuck.” He’d be out of the game for at least a month, if he was right about his right pinky – that was a boxer’s fracture. Tendrils of pain crawled out from the spot, his hands throbbing in time to his pulse. Dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb. He couldn’t afford to make mistakes like that – the Titan’s needed him!

Joey squeezed his upper arm, ‘let’s go’, he suggested, rising to his feet. Dick bit his lip, internally cursing himself for being such a dumbass. He shakily rose to his feet, immediately hit by a wave of exhaustion. Which in hindsight – he probably shouldn’t have sprinted until he dropped either.

Joey wrapped an arm around his waist, bending slightly to stand under his shoulder and steadying him as the blanket slipped over his shoulders. They left it were it lay – more pressing matters to attend to, but Dick shivered in the cool night without it. He took a few wobbling steps forward – and dumb – his knees gave out.

He never came close to the ground, instead, finding himself lifted into a princess carry. Joey smiled apologetically, with a little shrug. Dick sighed; this was embarrassing. He was eighteen – he should know better – Bruce had taught him better!

“It’s fine, thanks.” He ignored how rough his voice sounded, instead concentrating on the throbbing from his hands, using the pain to block out the ache in his chest. He focused his gaze forward, not thinking about how close he was to Joey, how Kor’i used to carry him this way, how Joey smelled like honeysuckle and lilac, how this was everything he missed – and he just prayed he wasn’t falling in love again – he couldn’t be, no – he just... he was projecting. He just missed Kor’i.

He ignored Donna’s concerned eyebrow raise as they passed her on the way back to the tower. Gar’s whistle as they crossed the living room. The way Joey was so delicate when placing him in the passenger seat of the helicopter, so careful to avoid eye contact, so mindful of his pride.

In the brighter lighting he noticed stark red against Joey’s golden curls. A flower from a bleeding heart had made its way into Joey’s hair. There were gardening gloves in his back pocket

His heart sped up as they took off, he felt weirdly lighter than before – though perhaps he was just dizzy from pain. Joey stared at him, his eyes darker than before, brow set determinedly, but looking pained and a bit melancholic.

“What’s wrong?” Dick asked, feeling guilty for ruining whatever gardening project Joey had evidently come from. A lot was wrong, he was wrong, was asking a stupid question.

The tips of Joey’s lips curled into a frown. ‘Do not do that again’ he pointed at Dick’s broken hands.

Dick shrugged, it was a dumb move, he couldn’t guarantee he’d never break his hand again. He shifted his gaze back through the window. Joey tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Promise.’ Well, if it would keep Joey happy, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

“I promise.” He wouldn’t break his hand as long as he never broke his heart.

Now.

He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid, and he didn’t lack self-awareness. He knew how to bottle his feelings into a jar, create a vacuum seal, and tuck them away on a shelf. The thing was, he also knew eventually he had to deal with the things he compartmentalized.

It had been a month since Joey died. He’d been putting it off. But today…

The bleeding heart had wilted.

The jar fell to the floor and shattered, his heart disintegrating into a million shards with it.

A watering can joined the broken glass on the floor, before he knew what was happening, he was running from Joey’s garden, not knowing where he was going, not sure of his surroundings. His vision narrowed, relying on muscle memory and reflex to avoid crashing.

Crashing was a good way to describe this.

He was right there. Looked Joey in the eyes. Watched him become twisted and never even noticed that his beloved friend was going through things no one should ever go through, slowly destroyed from within, suffocating from a painfully sluggish death before Slade made the final move.

“FUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCK!” Birds flapped away as he screamed at the sky, at the world for letting this happen. Joey never knew – he never told him – was too scared that this would – that he would –

WHY DID THINGS HURT SO MUCH HE SWORE NOT TO LOVE ANYONE LIKE HER AGAIN-

*CRACK*

He broke a tree, feeling bone snap against splintered bark.

He froze, staring at his right pinky, and laughed.

So much for promises.

Laughs turned to sobs, knees buckling as he fell to the forest floor – sitting on his heels before flopping to his back. Staring up at the baby blue sky, cumulus clouds drifted by without a care in the world, laughing at him, mocking him from the high heavens.

Tears flowed freely, nature as the only witness.

His heart wasn’t supposed to break like this, he’d locked it away long ago, he wasn’t supposed to care about people like this anymore, that wasn’t in the fucking plan. He’d restrained himself, time and time again, turned down offers, avoided hanging out – he did everything he was supposed to do to not fall in love again.

And absolutely none of it mattered.

Love had mattered – fuck love for being like this – fuck Bruce for making him believe he could live like him – fuck the world – fuck Joey – fuck Kor’i – fuck everything. Fuck whoever he was supposed to be, his training, his painstaking control of his emotions.

He pounded the ground with his good hand, promises could be broken, but he wouldn’t break – not today – he didn’t have time. He could be dead today, next week, fuck – half the Titans were dead, Jason was dead, he couldn’t waste time like this - his life was going to be short.

His life was going to fucking short and he needed to pull himself together – he had family to get back to. He had people he loved – if his heart was going to break anyways – he was so FUCKING stupid.

Drowning in regret, he slammed the ground again, hard enough for the shockwaves to jar his broken hand. Feeling pain was better than feeling this – because fuck – fuck – he loved Joey. He loved Joey and Kor’i and they were both gone and nothing was okay anymore. Joey never even knew. Never even knew – and it was all his fault – and he never knew how much he mattered – never knew how when he smiled it everything around him dulled in comparison or how when they talked it was like he had known him his all life.

He never knew.

And would never know.

He focused on taking painful breaths sobbing himself silly, laughing till he couldn’t breathe, and crying until he couldn’t feel. Time passed in a vacuum, hysteria waxing and waning until he ran out of tears to cry.

He rolled over, pressing himself up, wiping his face on his shirt, ignoring the familiar pain creeping up his arm.

He made a new promise because well, fuck the last one didn’t work out so he might as well start over. Giant pines towered over him standing tall as silent witnesses. He swore on the living along with the dead, any that would listen really – he didn’t care - he couldn’t keep living like this.

“Whoever I love will know.” He whispered the words as a sacred oath, finding an odd sense of solace. He paused, letting the words hang in the air as if imbuing them with some sort of power.

Stumbling forward, he made his way back home.

#bad things happen bingo #titans #batfam #ntt #dick grayson #joey wilson #koriand'r #dickkory #dickjoey #tw heartbreak #nightwing #discowing era lol #my writing

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acanvasofabillionsuns · 3 years

Text

been thinking ‘bout your touch

ao3!

Summary: 3 times Logan initiates contact, and one time his family returns the favor Warnings: character overworking themself, a brief mention of the American Civil War/slavery, Inside Out spoilers (specifically Bing Bong’s storyline) Wordcount: 3501

Logan walked into the commons and promptly forgot what he’d gone in there for, instead walking over to the couch and hugging a softly crying Patton.

“Oh!” Patton said, startled. “Hey, Logan!”

“Hello, Patton.”

Patton hugged Logan back, sinking into the contact for a moment before starting to pull away. Logan held on.

“Everything okay, kiddo?”

“I am fine, thank you. Studies show it takes 20 seconds of physical contact for endorphins to be released, so I am attempting to provide that.”

“Ooookay?”

“You were crying when I entered the room.” Was Patton not aware of that?

“Oh!” Patton said. He pushed on Logan’s shoulders gently, moving far enough back to initiate eye contact. “Logan, I’m watching Inside Out.”

Logan let go of the hug and turned to look at the TV. It was indeed playing Inside Out, the little joy and sadness characters on screen. He turned back to Patton, ready to ask why this mattered, but Patton beat him to it.

“Bing Bong just died. It was sad, but I’m fine.”

Oh.

“I see.” Logan cleared his throat and stood up, hoping he didn’t look as foolish as he felt. “I’m glad you’re alright—”

“Wanna stay and finish the movie with me?” Patton looked up at him hopefully. He’d pulled out his so-called “puppy dog eyes.” This was unfair.

“Wellllll,” Logan hedged, still embarrassed. “I should probably go back to work…”

“Please?” This was definitely unfair.

Logan sighed and sat down beside Patton, trying to squash his smile.

“Yay!” Patton cheered, scooching over to wrap Logan in a hug and settle into his side.

Logan didn’t think he was successful in hiding his grin.

Virgil, Logan had noticed, tended to hole up in his room often. He came out for meals and movie nights, and sometimes would sit in the living room, and even on occasions socialize, but more often than not he was in his room.

As none of them were permitted inside Virgil’s room for very long—anxiety overloading their functions and all that—spending so much time in there could not be conducive to getting very much physical contact, even factoring in Patton’s apparent mission to hug Virgil at least once in every encounter between the two of them. As sides, they did not technically need physical contact, just as they did not technically need food or sleep, but it was better for Thomas and for themselves if they got all three in healthy amounts.

Virgil, Logan was quite sure, was not getting a healthy amount of touch.

He aimed to remedy this.

So the next time Logan found Virgil sitting in the living room, he grabbed a book and joined him. Luckily, Virgil was sprawled out on the couch, instead of in one of the armchairs or in some other spot where seeking physical contact with him might’ve been difficult.

“May I join you?” Logan asked, nodding to the spot on the couch where Virgil’s head lay.

“Oh, uh, sure,” Virgil said awkwardly, sitting upright.

“Thank you.” He settled into his spot and found his place in the book. Starting to read, he informed Virgil, “If you wish to lay back down, I would not be opposed.”

“Uh, alright.” Virgil carefully settled his head in Logan’s lap.

About a chapter later, Logan realized Virgil had relaxed into his position on top of Logan, which gave him the courage to ask, “Would it be alright if I settled a hand in your hair?”

Virgil tilted his head back to look at Logan. “Why?”

“My arm’s growing a bit tired from being held up. If it makes you uncomfortable, though, I can certainly figure something else out.”

“Nah,” Virgil told him, tilting his head forward again. “Go ahead.”

Logan gingerly places his hand on Virgil’s head, letting his fingers tangle slightly in his hair before turning back to his book.

He’d reached the climax and so had gotten caught up in the story for the next several chapters, enough to completely forget his surroundings. So it was a while before he realized that he’d started mindlessly playing with Virgil’s hair. Virgil had completely relaxed in his lap and seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep.

Logan smiled at the sight, and at the success of his plan, and turned back to his book, making sure he didn’t disturb Virgil as he did so.

“Logan!” Roman hollered, stretching out the name as he hurtled down the stairs.

“Yes?”

“I’m bored,” Roman groaned, flopping in the chair beside Logan’s theatrically. “Do you have any quests to complete?” On principle, Logan didn’t particularly care to attempt to entertain any bored sides that came his way for amusement. He was a busy side, after all, and didn’t have time to waste over someone else’s lack of stimulation.

He still didn’t particularly care about Roman’s boredom this time around, but as his work was completed, he figured it couldn’t hurt to at least talk with Roman.

“Alas,” Roman sighed, bringing a hand up to his forehead and closing his eyes, “I completed all my recent ones yesterday, and I have no inspiration to make more. So I am completely and utterly out of things to do…” He trailed off, a hint of something in his tone that suggested he wanted Logan to ask something of him.

After a moment Roman cracked an eye open to squint at him, confirming the theory. Logan, lacking any idea what he wanted, raised an eyebrow.

“...Unless, of course, someone were interested in my daring exploits,” Roman continued pointedly, closing his eyes again and somehow posing more.

“It’s ‘was,’ not ‘were.’” Boredom was no excuse for bad grammar.

“So that I might then enthrall them with the tales of my valor.” Roman swatted at Logan with his free hand.

Logan sighed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, Roman, would you please tell me all about your amazing quests.”

“I would be delighted to!” Roman grinned, springing up from his chair. “It all began two days ago, when I was attempting to blend in among the populace—”

“Do you need to be facing me to tell me this?” Logan interrupted. Maybe it was rude, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t been cut off himself many times before, and anyway, better to cut in at the start then wait until some point in the middle.

“I suppose not.” Roman frowned at him. “Why’d you ask?”

“I’d like to braid your hair while I listen, if you don’t mind.” Otherwise he’d just be sitting there, hands idle.

“Oh!” Roman brightened. “Go ahead!”

Logan nodded and moved to sit cross legged on the couch, gesturing to the space in front of him. Roman snatched up a couple pillows and arranged them in a kind of throne in front of Logan, plopping on top of them and wiggling around in an extravagant attempt at getting comfortable.

“Okay,” he declared after a minute. “So. My cover was blown in a matter of minutes when a young boy approached me and insisted he needed my help…”

As he listened, Logan wove little cornrows into Roman’s hair and conjured tiny hair bands to tie them off as he finished them.

“...And the townsfolk were grateful enough to throw a party in my honor! Though unfortunately I got summoned soon after it started, but whatever! Spending time with you guys is better than with imagined people I don’t really know,” Roman finished, doing a little flourish with his hands. He turned to face Logan. “So, what’d you think?”

“I think you need to stay still so I can finish this braid,” Logan told him, clutching onto the strands of hair he’d been in the middle of weaving together.

Roman huffed, but faced forward again. “So?”

“You did a great job and told it eloquently. I particularly liked the part with the bull, and the imagery with the puzzle.”

“Thank you!” Logan could hear the smile in his voice.

“You’re welcome.” He conjured a final hair band and twisted it around the ends of the braid. “There.”

Roman instantly jumped up, twisting around to grin at Logan as he sang, “Your turn!”

“My turn?”

“I wanna do your hair now,” Roman said, pouting a little.

“You being the one to both talk and braid hair doesn’t give me anything to do, though,” Logan pointed out. “That was kind of the point of me braiding your hair.”

“Then you talk!”

“I haven’t gone on any quests, though.”

“Then tell me about a book you’ve read!” Roman supplied easily. “Any clever twists and turns you didn’t see coming? Plot holes that could’ve been easily fixed? Surely there must be something you want to talk about.”

“Well… “ Logan slowly slid onto Roman’s pillow throne.

Roman bounced onto the spot where Logan had been. “It’s settled, you’ve gotta tell me now!”

Logan huffed, rolling his eyes. “Very well.”

“Explain that plot, my good nerd!” Roman tilted Logan’s head back slightly to start a braid at the crown of his hair.

“The book begins with the characters…”

Logan knew it was his own fault.

He knew he was overworking himself, barely remembering to eat and sleep to help keep Thomas healthy and hardly coming out of his room. It’d been this way for a few weeks, since he’d picked up this project. And he knew he didn’t have to be working this hard, didn’t technically have to do this project at all, but here he was, carrying on by telling himself he’d just finish this one part— (But there was always another part following it, and then he had to finish that part too, and so on and so on.

He’d… he’d finish it eventually.)

So Logan knew it was his own fault he wanted a hug so badly, but that didn’t stop the yearning.

Logan leaned back in his chair, looking over the work he’d finished and mentally calculating how long it would take to complete the rest. If he kept working at the pace he’d been working at… about two days?

He could do two days. Anyone could do two days; a child could do two days. Two days, and then he’d be done, and he’d let himself go ask for a hug.

Two days and then a hug, he repeated as he leaned forward again, picking up his pencil and resuming his work.

It didn’t end up being two days.

First, he’d nearly fallen asleep at his laptop, and in his startle awake he’d accidentally deleted a big chunk of his work that’d needed to be recalculated and typed out. Then he’d made a mistake in his written work, and so had to comb through everything he’d already done to find it and then replace all the work after it.

So it was a week later that he realized his ‘two days’ had come and gone three times over, and he still hadn’t finished (or gotten a hug). If anything, he might’ve been set back in his work from when he’d promised himself that.

He sighed and looked at the clock. 7:23, and him using military time meant he’d stayed up all night again.

Logan was debating whether or not he should go get some food, maybe try to sleep, when someone gently pulled his chair away from the desk, hands on his shoulders. He startled.

“Logan,” Patton whispered, breath hot against his ear. “You need a break.”

Logan sighed and nodded. “I do.”

“Then let’s get you one.” Patton let go of his shoulders, and Logan barely had time to mourn the loss before Patton was taking his hands and heaving him up from the chair. The leather made a ripping sound as his legs unstuck.

“Definitely need a break,” Patton said decidedly. “Have you had breakfast yet?” Logan shook his head. “Then we’ll start there!”

Logan smiled fondly as Patton tugged him downstairs and into the kitchen. Virgil was on the counter, looking up from his phone as they arrived.

“Hey, Logan,” he smirked, though his eyes looked a little too relieved for his expression to seem genuine. “Long time, no see.”

“I’ve been… absorbed in this project.” The way he said it made it almost sound like an apology, though that was ridiculous. Nothing about that sentence was an apology. (It was, kind of, an apology.)

Virgil nodded and patted the counter space beside him. “Sit with me while Pat makes breakfast?”

“Sounds like a great idea!” Patton declared, squeezing Logan’s hands and clapping him on the back before turning and pulling out pans and ingredients.

Logan pushed himself onto the counter, looking over as Virgil tilted his screen towards him. He was watching what seemed like a conspiracy video, captions on and sound turned off. It appeared to be claiming the Civil War was some personal feud between a couple influential people, instead of about slavery. (It was, of course, a white person talking animatedly on screen.) Logan rolled his eyes at the idea, but watched anyway, occasionally murmuring contradictions to what the video was saying.

After it ended, Virgil pulled up another conspiracy video, looking over at Logan. He nodded, and Virgil pressed play, leaning against Logan’s side as the video started.

Logan very carefully did not stiffen, not wanting to scare Virgil away, and slowly relaxed into the touch. Virgil was warm against his side, and he soaked up that heat gratefully.

They watched about an hour’s worth of conspiracy videos, with Patton puttering around the kitchen as pleasant background noise. Logan could’ve easily watched for another hour, but biscuits, bacon, and eggs didn’t keep very well, and Logan was hungry. It was only with minor reluctance that he took his seat at the table.

“Roman! Breakfast!”

Logan heard more than saw Roman clattering downstairs, chair facing away from the steps. There was the thundering of feet, a thump that sounded more like he’d jumped the last few stairs then fallen, and—a gasp?

“You’ve escaped!” Roman cried, and Logan twisted in his chair to see what he was talking about just in time to be engulfed in a hug.

After a moment, Roman released him, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, I should’ve—”

“Roman.” Logan hoped the waver in his voice wasn’t too prominent to the others. “Come here and hug me properly.”

Roman lit up, bending down in a sort of squat as Logan twisted to sit sideways in his chair, so that they met in the middle and melted into a hug. (Logan clung perhaps a bit more tightly than he would’ve admitted. He’d missed this.)

After a minute Logan made himself pull back. “My apologies, that couldn’t have been a comfortable position to hold for so long.”

“I don’t care,” Roman assured him. “Don’t worry, I would’ve pulled away sooner if it was bothering me—Zeus, it’s so good to see you; do you even realize how long you’ve been locked up in your room?”

“A month and two days,” Logan said quietly. “Technically, just three days, as that was the last time I’d come out of my room to get food, but—thirty-two days.”

“What were you even doing in there?”

“I’ve been working to try and come up with a better way to manage Thomas’s finances, as well as trying to figure out his taxes. I know it’s unnecessary, especially to the degree I’ve been doing so, but…” But what? He couldn’t stop working? Preposterous; he could’ve, he’d just chosen not to, and then lost track of time and kept going until it had devolved into somehow being locked in his room for a month.

“Well, then!” Roman set a hand on Logan’s shoulder and it ached, almost, with how good it felt. (Logan might’ve become touch starved. He’d acknowledged that a while ago and kept working.) “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses and put a pause on it!”

“Actually,” Patton broke in. “I pulled him away for a break. He probably would’ve kept working if I hadn’t come in.” His tone was breezy, but there was a judgmental edge to it that indicated Patton had stronger opinions than he was voicing.

“I agreed with you that I needed a break,” Logan pointed out defensively. “I was actually thinking of getting some food when you came in.”

Patton hummed in an ‘if you say so’ sort of way.

“And, lemme guess—after breakfast you’ll go back to work?” Roman asked, shifting his weight.

“I—” Logan hadn't actually decided on whether he would or not.

“The answer here is ‘no,’ L,” Virgil said gently. “Don’t bother fighting it.”

Logan sighed. “Then I suppose I’m not going back to work after breakfast.”

“Good,” Roman declared, plopping down in his seat like that emphasized his point.

They ate, and there was a pause afterwards where Roman, Patton, and Virgil were all taking care of things and Logan was alone in the kitchen. He debated going back to his room—he’d said he wouldn’t, but he didn’t really know what else to do and no one was here to stop him—but Patton popped up and pushed him into the commons with a “Help set up!”

“Set up?”

“For the movie,” Virgil said, appearing beside Logan and hooking arms with him, pulling him along. “Roman’s getting blankets, so I need you to help me find The Aristocats before he can rig the vote.”

“Rig the vote? Roman?” Logan deadpanned. “Blatant slander and defamation; he would never.” Virgil snorted, and Logan wasn’t sure if the warmth he felt was from their proximity or… probably just the proximity.

“I know, right,” Virgil joked. “But this way, it’s two against one and so he can��t complain.” He dropped to his knees in front of the movie cases. Their arms were linked loosely enough that Logan could’ve chosen to slip out of his grip and remain standing, but he let himself kneel beside Virgil.

They flipped through the cases (and regrettably had to unlink arms to do so, but they were sitting close enough their thighs were pressed against each other, and Logan found he didn’t miss the contact too much), and pulled out The Aristocats right as Roman thundered down the stairs, laden with blankets and pillows.

“Careful!”

“Not to worry, Pat, I’m fine!” Roman declared, hopping past the last two steps and dumping his bounty on the couch. He squinted at Logan and Virgil. “Are you two conspiring? Going behind my back to rig the vote in your favor?”

“Because you’ve never done that,” Virgil snarked at the same time Logan said, “It’s Disney.”

“Disney?” Roman perked up.

“Aristocats,” Virgil told him. “Everybody wants to be a cat, y’know, and last I checked you’re part of everybody.”

“Oooh! We haven’t watched that in a while!”

“Nope.” Virgil popped the p sound. “And that’s why if you try to make us watch another movie first, I’ll steal all your Disney posters and make a collage out of them.”

Roman Gasped Offendedly™. “I didn’t even say anything! I want to watch Aristocats!”

“Just letting you know,” Virgil said.

Roman stuck his tongue out at him and began setting up a blanket fort. Logan went over to help him while Virgil popped the DVD into the player and left to help Patton manage snacks. They came back with a couple bowls of popcorn, several smaller bowls of candy, and a round of mugs. Everyone crawled in, got comfy, and made sure the snacks were within reach.

“Ready?” Virgil asked, prompting various noises of agreement, and then pressed play.

Roman and Logan had arranged the fort so that the couch was technically available for sitting on, but the blankets were low enough they’d be pushed up by one’s head. Virgil solved this problem by draping himself across the couch, head almost beside Logan’s and arm on top of Logan’s head, where Logan could easily hold up the popcorn bowl for him whenever he needed a new handful. (It was maybe slightly inconvenient, but Logan was maybe slightly touch starved, and this method meant Virgil’s arm stayed perched on Logan’s head.)

A few minutes into the movie, Roman shifted around and kicked his legs up to use Logan’s lap as a footstool. Logan retaliated by taking the Skittles from him and placing them on his other side, near Patton. Roman scrunched his face up at him and squirmed around so that his head was in Logan’s lap, and throughout the movie they continued until Roman was almost entirely settled on top of Logan, where he stayed.

About when Duchess met (Abraham DeLacey Giuseppe Casey) Thomas O’Malley, Patton scooched over a little and laid his head on Logan’s shoulder. It was careful, at first, the kind where one could tell the other wasn’t letting the full weight rest on them. But when Logan didn’t react except to put his head on top of Patton’s, he relaxed into it.

By the time the movie had ended, they were a pile of warmth and Logan was at the center of it.

Logan loved his famILY.

#my fics #my writing #sanders sides #platonic LAMP #ts logan #ts patton #ts virgil #ts roman #i wrote this over a year ago and then went back through and rewrote it a few months ago so if it sounds a little weird that's probably why

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five-rivers · 4 years

Text

Obstacles

Based on a prompt by @kinglazrus! A Phic Phight Phic! (Yes, I know I already did this prompt. I had two ideas.)

Before Danny even opened his eyes, he knew he was about to have a bad day. This was primarily because he wasn't in his nice, comfortable bed, which was where he last remembered being. No. Right now he was propped up against a cold, hard wall.

He was also gagged, with something extensive that went all the way into his nose and throat and rested uncomfortably against his vocal cords. Not that it was resting comfortably against any other part of his face or mouth. His jaw had been forced all the way open and everything aches.

This lead to a number of conclusions: One, he had, yet again, been kidnapped, and, two, his current kidnappers are probably aware of his ghost powers. Otherwise, they wouldn't see the need for such an elaborate gag.

Danny believed he was also tied up or chained, but, due to sensory fatigue and his general disinclination to open his eyes or otherwise move, he hadn't checked yet.

He really hated being kidnapped. He was also sleep deprived. His kidnappers could wait.

(Or were those the drugs talking? He had to assume he was drugged, to get him here.)

"Hey!" hissed a sharp, male voice. "Hey, kid!"

Apparently, his kidnappers didn't agree. Ugh. On top of everything, he had to get rude kidnappers. Couldn't he get polite kidnappers for once? The kind that would treat him like an honored guest, except for letting him leave? Or who at least would let him have a bed? He'd still hate it, of course, but he'd be more comfortable while plotting his escape.

"Kid!" said the voice, more urgently.

Jeez. Couldn't they wait? Danny wasn't going anywhere. That they knew about, anyway. Since, obviously, he wasn't going to stay here. For long. Hopefully.

Something jangled and the voice grunted. Internally, Danny rolled his eyes. What were they even doing? Worst kidnapping ever. Zero out of five stars. Would not repeat.

Must be a new kidnapper, then. Didn't know the ropes. He giggled internally. It was better when kidnappers didn't know the ropes. That meant they were easier to untie.

Actually, wait. That jangle... That sounded disturbingly like someone else in chains.

Great. So he had a kidnapping buddy. A kidnapee buddy? Whatever. A fellow victim. Yay. Joy. Someone Danny would have to rescue without revealing his secret. At least, the voice sounded human.

The guy had probably never been kidnapped before. Most humans hadn't been. Danny didn't know about ghosts. Ghosts got up to some weird stuff in ghost land.

Ghost land. Wow. These guys had really laid on the drugs, huh?

If he were alone, Danny would would have pretended to sleep until the drugs completely wore off and he could think clearly and move properly. But he wasn't alone. He needed to know what and who he was working with.

He forced his eyes open, despite how heavy and sticky they felt. What he could see, that is, nothing, didn't change. He blinked, several times, then shook his head. This revealed that, in addition to the gag, he had been blindfolded. Also, he had been right about being chained up. There was a collar around his neck. He reached up, but the chains shackled to his wrists weren't long enough for him to reach.

Well, Danny officially hated this.

"Hey, hey, kid, don't panic, don't panic. Breathe in, breathe out, okay?"

Danny rolled his eyes. He wasn't panicking.

"If you can understand me, uh, nod, or something."

Not the best way of communicating, but, whatever. He didn't have a lot of options. He nodded.

"Good, good. So, uh, you're probably wondering what's going on."

Danny nodded, and tried to point at his face.

"Well, they've got sort of a mask over your whole face, kind of like that one movie, you know, with the French king? Except yours has a hole where your mouth is, and I guess you can feel that, because it looks like it's going in to your mouth. Yeah. And no eye holes. And from my side of the room, it looks like it's locked on, from behind."

The man stopped. If Danny had use of his vocal cords, he would have groaned. While he had wanted to know what was on his face, that wasn't all he wanted to know, and, honestly, that should have been immediately obvious.

This guy wasn't very good at being kidnapped.

Danny rotated his hand in a gesture he hoped would be interpreted as 'continue.' His wrist chafed on the inside of the cuff.

"Anyway, the people who have us... They aren't people. Are you from Amity Park?"

Danny nodded. He already knew where this was going.

"Thank god. I was worried you'd think I was crazy. We've been kidnapped by ghosts. Don't worry, though! I'm a GIW agent! We're trained to fight ghosts!"

The guy, the actual Guy, the agent, kept going on about how he'd rescue them, or how the GIW would come and get them and fight off all the evil, kidnapping ghosts, but Danny was too busy trying to keep his heart rate under control to pay attention.

Danny could handle being kidnapped. He had done it before. But escaping with a GIW agent? Without blowing his secret? That was a different story, and he suspected it was one his kidnappers were fully aware of.

His jaw clenched painfully hard around the gag, but he couldn't relax his muscles. He was aware that he was shaking.

A single, presumably tied up, GIW could scare him this much when the prospect of being kidnapped by unknown ghosts hadn't fazed him at all. It was hilariously pathetic.

The GIW agent, judging by his continued reassurances as to the prowess of the GIW, hadn't noticed Danny's panic. Good. Great. Perfect. At least he was oblivious.

Danny felt the ghost coming, icy mist clouding his lungs, long before the agent saw anything. It was obvious when the agent did see something, because he stopped talking in the middle of a sentence about how 'the GIW are looking for us even now!'

Reassuring. Not.

Something creaked, high-pitched enough for him to hunch his shoulders around his sensitive ears. A door opening? A swirl of air seemed to confirm that.

He hated this so much. He didn't even have his go-to coping mechanism: sarcasm. Well, he had internal sarcasm, but that just wasn't the same.

It would also be a lot easier to figure out how to escape if he could see.

The ghost wasn't walking, didn't make any sound or move the air, but Danny could still track their silent presence moving around the room. Just a perk of being him. Well, that and his ghost sense.

The ghost began speaking, but not in English. "Do not be so afraid, little one," she said in a ghostly language that had always reminded Danny of spiders. Ghostly claws skimmed the soft skin beneath his chin, and he tilted his head up, reflexively, away from the touch. "I swear on my own grave and the Black River, we will do you no damage we cannot repair."

Reassuring. Not. Wow. This ghost and the GIW agent were much more similar than one might think on first... listen? Not sight. Well, probably sight, too, unless this ghost was a Walker lookalike, but Danny couldn't exactly confirm that right now.

"You may have deduced by now that the fool is here to prevent you from fighting your way free. We know you are clever." The claws poked him again, and he leaned away farther, pressing the top of his head into the wall.

"Hey!" said the agent. "Leave the kid alone! Pick on someone your own size!"

The ghost ignored him. "While we have no quarrel with you, we require your presence. At the end, we shall return you to your home, and, should you desire it, we shall return the fool as well." She was pushing against Danny's chin with the back of her claws, pushing his head as far back as it could go. The collar pushed sharply against the nape of his neck. He squirmed. "This, we promise."

Then she dumped something down his throat. At least, he really hoped it was something she 'dumped' as in, from a bottle, rather than, say, for example, drool, but Danny couldn't exactly tell, either way. All he knew was that something liquid had hit the back of his throat, and now he was choking and sputtering, trying not to inhale it. He didn't have much choice about swallowing it.

His throat and the back of his nose burned. He wheezed, gasping for breath that, strictly speaking, he didn't need, and tipped sideways. He caught on the collar's chain and nearly strangled himself, but the ghost had mercy and pulled him back upright.

"Cooperate," said the ghost, "this will all be over soon."

There was a tug on his collar from the other direction and a clank. Was there a chain on the front of the collar? He tried, weakly, to twitch away. The chain went taught.

This was not ideal.

"It's okay, it's okay, kid," said the agent. "The ghost- it's just chaining us together, that's all. I think."

Abruptly, the chains attaching Danny to the wall vanished. The chain on the front of the collar tugged him forward, and he almost toppled. Not 'just chaining them together,' then. Why did he have to be stuck with this guy? Why not someone actually useful? Like Mr. Lancer? Or Tucker's mom? Heck, he'd take Dash. At least Dash would have his back if he found out Danny was Phantom.

The chain tugged up, and Danny struggled to his feet which were, predictably, asleep. His knees felt weird. He was tugged forward, slowly, but insistently. It took a few seconds for Danny to register what was happening.

The ghost was using the chain as a leash, leading him, and presumably the agent, out of the room. His shoulder hit something warm and alive, and he almost fell, but a pair of human hands steadied him.

"Sorry, kid," muttered the agent. "I don't know what's going on. The ghost came in and talked in that gibberish before, but this is the first time I've been out since I woke up."

Danny focused on not falling, after that. He didn't want the agent to touch him again.

This was humiliating.

(Also, what had the ghost put down his throat? He'd been thinking 'drug,' but he didn't feel any different. Yet.)

The air grew warmer as they walked down hallways and navigated up stairs. Hisses and whispers of ghostly speech caught on Danny's ears, but the snippets he caught weren't enough to explain anything to him. The few he could interpret were about housekeeping and cleaning.

Then they passed through a doorway into a room where the air was hot, wet, and floral. A greenhouse? A solarium? A garden? A jungle? It didn't smell as earthy as Sam's greenhouse, the odor was... sharper, more chemical, but Danny knew Sam liked to keep her plants as natural as possible. It might not mean anything.

Beneath his feet, though, the floor was tile, smooth and glazed. That didn't strike him as something that would be used in a greenhouse, or even a garden. Definitely not a jungle. Although... ghosts were weird. They often blended natural and unnatural in ways humans wouldn't.

"You know what you must do," said the ghost.

"Yes, mistress," answered a chorus of ghostly voice, both male and female.

He was pulled forward one last time and suddenly there were hands on him. Many hands, tugging at his clothes.

"Hey!" said the agent. "What is this? What are you doing? I'm not going in there! I'm perfectly- I'm perfectly clean! No bath! Back off!"

There was a great tug on Danny's neck and he went sprawling. The ghosts hissed.

"Oh, hell, kid, I'm sorry, I- stop touching me!"

Danny reached up and grabbed a section of chain, giving himself a little slack. The ghosts converged on him again, and he froze, tensing for signs that he was about to get beaten up.

Instead, they started to cut away his clothes, which was bad in a completely different and terrifying way. The agent loudly protested similar treatment.

"For your bath," said one of the ghosts.

Oh, that made it so much better. Except it didn't. What the heck did these ghosts want him for that required a bath?

The bath was- Well, it was a bath. A bath where he couldn't see or close his mouth or nose. A bath where he had to let a bunch of people who had kidnapped him touch him. A bath where he was increasingly affected by whatever drug he had been given. He could feel parts of his mind going soft and docile, feel his ghost-child instinct to submit to adult ghosts unexpectedly kick into gear.

Worse, the bath attendants apparently thought he was funny, or cute, or something. They kept giggling. Danny wanted nothing to do with it.

Except... the drug apparently had yet to reach its full effect, and, gradually, Danny found that he did. He wanted them to be happy. He wanted them to like him.

At least, parts of him did. The rest was furious.

Eventually, he was toweled off and brought back to the GIW agent, whom he had all but forgotten.

"Damn, kid, whatever drug they gave you really did a number on you, huh?" he asked.

Danny couldn't exactly respond. They were led away, back inside the building, where it was dry, and they were dressed. At least, Danny was dressed, and in something that felt thin and gauzy. Then they were moved yet again.

At some point, Danny wasn't sure when, what with the gag and blindfold, the first ghost came back. Danny was starting to have trouble understanding words They all felt like they were underwater, and he was becoming very unsteady on his feet, even without being pulled along.

The ghost, the first ghost, was touching him, tracing over his bones, mumbling things. He tried to hold still. He really did.

Something new was dumped down his throat, and his legs abruptly decided that they weren't going to support his weight anymore. He dropped to the floor, taking the agent with him.

"Follow the lights," said the ghost. "Find the sun. There is a key in the crawlspace."

Then she left. She left him alone.

Alone with the agent. Which was bad bad bad bad bad.

The agent came closer, and Danny hissed, but he couldn't exactly fight back in his current state. Soon, the agent had him pinned, and he was doing something to the gag and blindfold, and it hurt every time the piece in his throat moved.

But then- it was gone. The agent had, somehow, managed to remove it. The blindfold followed shortly after. Danny spent several long seconds just breathing and blinking, adjusting to his newfound freedom and returned senses.

Being able to see grounded him in reality somewhat. He sat up, only vaguely listening to the agent. The room they were in was cavernous and dark, lit only by a dim chain of lights on the ground that incongruously reminded him of the floor lights at a movie theater. They lead into a tunnel at the far end of the room and out of sight.

Well, now he knew where he was. He groaned.

"Kid? Are you alright?"

"No," said Danny, hoarsely. He decided not to ask the agent's name, because then the agent would ask for his. He looked the agent up and down. "They gave you a knife?"

"Yeah," said the agent, frowning at the sleek metal thing.

The reflections made Danny's eyes hurt. This was a bad trip. He never wanted to take drugs, especially these drugs, ever again.

"You should get rid of it," said Danny, recalling some of the 'rules' this particular ghostly ritual had.

"It's our only weapon."

"Do you really trust something a ghost gave you?" Danny said, trying to inject disgust into his tone. It worked too well and almost gagged. "It's probably cursed. Why else would they give it to you?"

The agent, as expected, tossed the knife away like it had suddenly turned into a snake.

Danny swallowed hard, fighting back a wave of dizziness. He could feel his ghost half sparkling under his skin, and the impulse to do what the nice lady from before said beating with his heart. The darkness crawled with herringbone patterns, pointing on.

"Okay," said the agent. "Okay. So, we've got to get out of here, and I don't fancy taking the path they've lit up for us, so let's feel around, see if there's anything off to the sides." He stood up, dragging Danny with him.

"We've gotta follow the lights," said Danny. He swayed. "They're-" he coughed. "My parents research ghost legends, and I think I know what this is."

"Right, you're the Fenton kid, aren't you?"

Danny shrugged. Figures the guy would know.

"Well, what is it?"

"They want us to find the sun." Danny blinked hard as a memory of light blinded him. "A sun. Their sun. They want us, probably me, really, to find their sun. Because it's their new year. It goes to sleep. Beddy-bye." He yawned.

"Stay awake," said the agent.

Danny shook himself. "They want us to wake it up."

"And the bath is because...?"

"Ritual puri-purification," said Danny, stumbling over the word. "The drugs, too, I guess. We need to be clean, or we'll be burnt up and they'll send someone else." He rubbed his eyes. Speaking of ritual purity, would his status as a half ghost keep him from actually attaining that?

It didn't matter. The drugs in his system were driving him on. His bones were practically vibrating with them. He had to go. He had to follow the lights.

He stumbled forward and tugged on the chain. The agent obviously didn't want to come, but just as obviously there weren't all that many choices. He followed.

It was hard to follow the little lights. They hovered, intangible, just above the ground and made all of the shadows weird. Danny wished he could summon an ectolight, but his fingernails hurt and the agent was right behind him. Stalking him. Waiting for him to trip up.

They reached a wall studded with lights. "We have to go over," said Danny, craning back his head.

The agent grunted unhappily. "I'll boost you up, but don't go over the side or we'll both be strangled."

"Uhuh," said Danny. He didn't need to breathe.

It might have tempted him, at the top of the wall, to go over and get rid of the agent. He wasn't sure. It could have just been the drugs talking. It could have been the call of the void. He didn't know, and he felt so guilty that the weight of it bore him into a hunch and turned the agent's words into gibberish.

There were other obstacles, beyond the agent, beyond the wall. There was a glowing river full of skeletal fish. A field of mushrooms with purple-glowing gills. A monster that chased them until they passed through a door to small for it.

The lights led to a tiny hole, barely large enough for Danny to crawl through. A green-yellow light flickered in the depths.

The agent started to curse. "I can't fit in there," he finish, finally.

"I can," said Danny. "That's why they want children, I guess."

"This chain isn't long enough."

"There's a key in the tunnel," said Danny.

"How do you know?" the agent sounded suspicious.

"The ghost lady whispered it to me," said Danny. He didn't really want to see her again. He was fairly certain that the drug was still running strong in his system, and that he would be ludicrously pliant with whatever an adult ghost, any adult ghost, told him to do at the moment.

He didn't want to see their sun, either. They were probably a ghost in their own right. A powerful one.

But he did want that key.

"No," said the agent, shaking his head. "There has to be another way. This is a trap. Like the knife." He started backing away.

Danny dove for the tunnel.

He got about a quarter of the way down when the agent found the presence of mind to haul him back with the chain. Danny grabbed it with both hands and braced himself against the walls of the tunnel. He could see the glimmer of a key, less than an arm's reach away.

He pulled, reaching, trying to get it. Despite his best efforts, the collar dug painfully into his neck. The agent was shouting but he was under water again. Danny didn't care. He wanted that key.

He got it.

Finding the key hole was a whole other ordeal, but he got that, too, and then he was free. He shot down the tunnel, into-

Sunlight.

He froze. There was a giant, burning skeleton in the cave in front of him. Its bones were an incandescent white. It had curled into a ball. Sleeping.

This was the sun.

Danny could leave, now, though. He could phase through the floor, now that the collar was gone. He could go home and forget about the agent. Physically speaking.

Mentally? That was another story.

Besides, he was in the drugs grip again, and didn't he want to talk to the nice adult?

He shuffled closer to the sun skeleton. It felt hot, but not unbearably so. As he drew closer, he had to squeeze his eyes shut against the light. He reached out, and put his hand on one of the skeleton's bones.

The sun woke instantly.

The celebratory feast was one of the most bizarre events Danny had ever attended, and not just because he was high on ghost drugs. An unconscious GIW agent chained in the corner and a living 'sun' as the guest of honor had that effect, he supposed. Not to mention everyone's insistence on feeding him by hand.

At least he would be able to go home after this.

He hoped.

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2020

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sunshine304 · 3 years

Text

I am so so sorry that it took me this long to continue my LoF watching posts! RL, y’know. Ep 26 felt like a good place to take a breather, as well, so that’s what I did.

Anyway, let’s move on to eps 27 and 28!

It’s exposition time! Zhou Fei and ChuChu are at a tea house and hear about an army deserter who was trained on the Mountain of the Immortals (has this been mentioned before... IDK), was poisoned and became a monk. A-Fei thinks this story sounds familiar (indeed it does, indeed it does...) and ChuChu remembers having read sth like this in a book (the book of ... Peng Lai? I think?).

Oh look, Huo Fort becomes relevant again! I forgot about them. Anyway, Huo Lintao, who is now the boss and seems to not be well liked basically everywhere, wants to fight Disha and invites people from Jianghu to his Destroy Disha Assembly (God, I just love that name XD). Li Sheng & 48 Strongholds get an invite and he wants to investigate. Huo Fort is also... attacked by random cultivators I guess?

Meanwhile, let’s check in on Yin Pei! He still can’t deal with his internal injury (loss of internal power? still not sure; I’m assuming it’s sth like severe damage to a golden core in xanxia or even complete loss of one) and scours Old Daoist Master Chongxiao’s rooms for the Phoenix Pill, which... I think gives you lots of power but is also really super dangerous?

This show sure has lots of useful but also dangerous power restoring/improving pills and needles, huh?

Anyway, Yin Pei takes the pill. He does not feel so good. Uh oh.

Li Yan and Yang Jin go in search for A-Fei again – uhm, didn’t A-Fei simply go into town with ChuChu? Why are they searching for her again, other that Yang Jin wants to fight her because one obvious defeat isn’t enough? I'm guessing there has been a time skip again...

Meanwhile, at Disha Manor! Shen Tianshu is nursing his wounded ego I guess, while Chu Tianyu, an older member, is now supposed to take care of all this drama, but he doesn’t really want to because he’s retired. How many weird members of Disha are there?

Oh okay, so Yin Pei goes kinda crazy because of the scabbard since it seems to be gone, takes more of the Phoenix Pills, which is a fucking stupid idea, we get some exposition that this might turn him into a demon of some sort, and then he kills Chongxiao for the scabbard because he thinks that the old master wants it for himself.

Which, you know, isn’t true, but that’s what you get for being so secretive, I guess. Chongxiao actually wanted the scabbard so a forger could make lots of copies of it, so that Yin Pei can keep the original one. *sigh* Well, too late now. Yin Pei also meets that evil guy from way back in ep 7 or 8 who’d fought Chongxiao and Li Sheng, who calls himself the Black Judge (I’m too lazy to look up his name and hope he doesn’t really become that relevant).

I’m kinda sad that Yin Pei simply seems to go the “Oops I’m super crazy now“ route instead of having a more interesting redemption arc. I also... don’t really know what he wants to do now? He’s got the scabbard of his father... Are there still people alive he could take revenge on? Disha I guess?

But! The song that plays while Yin Pei confronts Chongxiao is awesome! I'm in love.♥

Back to the main characters, thank you! Xie Yun is really ill and freezing, the poison taking its toll. He’s at the same inn as two new characters (noooo, no more characters, have mercy!) Zhu Chen and Zhu Ying of the small Zhu sect, who are there for that assembly. They eye XY and feel sorry for him. We instantly know that these are Good People.

Aaaaaand introducing another new character, Ying Hecong, Poison Doctor! I know he’s relevant because he’s got a poster!

Of course Zhou Fei just misses Xie Yun in that inn. *sigh* But then she meets Li Yan and Yang Jin there, which is nice.

Yet another new character! He’s Black Tortoise Ding Kui and has henchman that are dressed in a rather peculiar way. Is this now the same as with that Azure Dragon guy, and I don’t really have to remember him? He’s from the 4 Guardians Mountain (speaking of which, where tf is Mu XiaoQiao!?).

Okay okay I see now. Everyone is in LingLing for that meet up with the Huo family! Madame Nichang is there too! Ah my beloved! ♥ She tells Xie Yun to follow his heart, and not be stupid and only think of his end.

Xie Yun is all evasive of course, and then he meets up with Cheng Zichen who of course is also there! Because of this he finds out that Zhou Fei is there, too, which puts him into a conflict. Because his running away was going so well, dammit!

On to Ep 28!

Xie Yun hides out in the carriage with Ling Yu of the Feather Robe Troupe, who slyly comments on him running away from Zhou Fei. He’s sad and says that it’s not A-Fei’s fault and that he’s just an unlucky person who is not good for her. T_T Kill me, why don’t you.

A-Fei has learned a lot and notices XY’s ruse, yay go my heroine!♥

She catches him and they fight, and she asks him about the poison. Zhou Fei obviously suspects ahhhh! (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ But of course when XY seems happy that she was looking for him, she goes all haughty again and is like, “It’s only because of the HYTS!“ (although no it was mainly because of him and she looks light she might burst into tears any moment now, too...)

They get distracted by the procession of Black Tortoise Master walking by and A-Fei knocks XY out. They’re even now! XD

Nice to see the whole gang together as A-Fei drags the unconscious Xie Yun to an inn! ChuChu my beloved! ♥

OMG Li Sheng and Yang Jin getting into this peacock fight! XD Li Sheng scolds his sister and Yang Jin is super pissed about it. Li Yan is looking sooo smug, like “Yep that's my very own protective himbo!“ XD

Then Li Sheng is sent off to find Madame Nichang because she at least might know what to do about Xie Yun.

Ding Kui arrives at the Hui Fort. If I understood correctly... Hui Lintao wants to... kill all the cultivators when they arrive for his assembly? Or just those other cultivators that are randomly attacking him? There's traps in the forest they have go through. He specifically mentions that the traps are set after Daoist Master Chongxiao’s design, so hm might Li Sheng be of great help here later? Anyway, that old guy from Disha is there and seems to find all of this very funny. I’m confused.

Mu Xiaoqiao my love!!!!!!! He’s back!!!! For about 5 seconds but there he is, looking fabulous! ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Ding Kui (who... has left the Huo Fort I guess) wants to work with him and reminds him of his debt to the Huo Fort. I had forgotten about that.

Oh let’s check in for about a minute on Yin Pei, who is still crazy and slaughters some people... uhm somewhere. He also now calls himself the true Master of Clear Light. [at least I think it’s supposed to be his new name?] Nicely written on the door in blood. Okay then.

But the instrumental of his song plays in the background, making all of this much more epic, so it’s fine.

Madame Nichang arrives, is shocked, and states that Xie Yun is poisoned, as A-Fei feared, and he has a year if he doesn’t use his internal force anymore. A-Fei is devastated and we get their love song while she rubs his (supposedly) ice-cold hand. Oh my heart. T_T

Ying Hecong arrives because he wants to see the poisoned guy! XD He has never heard of tact.

Since A-Fei is desperate she lets him in, and we get some exposition in bits and pieces. Ying Hecong first assumes that XY must’ve been poisoned about a month ago (which fits the fight against Disha, where he used the needle), but wonders how that could be because Lian Sheng (the poisoner known for bone piercing blue) has been missing for a while longer. He lets slip that he isn’t actually a doctor, uhm yeah....

Oh not A-Fei is so sad and crying, nooooo T_T She’s angry at XY, asking why he had to meddle in her affairs and then leave to just die somewhere alone. Oh nooooo. ಥ_ಥ ಥ_ಥ ಥ_ಥ

(side note: easy scene for Wang Yibo, just lying there the whole time, no lines for once XD)

A-Fei gets the Tianmen Lock from Madam Nichang (a special lock that has a double lock mechanism that is very difficult to open. Md. Nichang actually alludes to this lock being very useful for lovers and I’m like... okay XD). YunFei are kinky as ever, nothing new here – A-Fei is so pissed at XY that she doesn’t want him to have the chance to run away again. XD

Loved how XY complained about the lock destroying his posture. XD And how Zhou Fei’s like, “It’s not my fault you’re bound like that, Li Sheng is to blame!“ while the flashback tells us, that uhm no, he’s not. XD

Ending with A-Fei telling Yang Jin about the Hai Tian Yi Se. Ah they’re important relics it seems. Well whatever. XY listens in.

I really need to keep on watching, it seems stuff is happening.

#legend of fei #you fei #sabrina watches legend of fei #my posts #my gifs

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winryofresembool · 4 years

Text

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 18

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: Leo's life is hard (but maybe there's some hope left).

A/N: Yay, time for a new chapter! I decided to make Friday my new posting day so that’s when the future updates will (hopefully) happen.

It's not time to resolve the previous drama quite yet but dw, that's coming! Meanwhile, I hope you'll enjoy this Leo centered chapter. It’s also time to bring Frank in!

Don't forget to let me know what you think! :)

Characters in this ch: Leo, Frank, Georgina, Jo, Emmie

Words: 1700+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / next chapter / AO3

...

“Maldita sea!” Leo yelled at himself as his wrench flew at the wall, thankfully not causing damage to it. Nothing he tried to fix or build that day seemed to go right. He hadn’t been able to figure out a pretty basic seeming issue in someone’s phone, one of his own inventions had broken and even solving a physics problem that would usually have managed to distract him only felt frustrating.

There was a lot going on in Leo’s head. Well, he’d argue that he always had a lot going on there due to his ADHD, but this time his usual methods to calm himself down didn’t seem to work. He would probably have to quit studying the only field he was truly interested in. He couldn’t do his work. His flatmate for whom he may or may not have started slowly developing some very not flatmate appropriate feelings had apparently had a thing for his friend, which not only complicated Leo’s situation with Calypso but also with Percy. And his mother’s death anniversary was coming, which was always a hard time for him. Leo imagined she’d probably be so disappointed if she saw him now. ‘My son, a failure in every aspect of life’. No, Leo’s real mother had been way too nice to actually say something like that out loud, but he just knew she’d at least think that. And Jo, Emmie and Georgina were counting on him too.

After throwing the wrench, Leo decided to take a break because his hands had started shaking too much to continue working. Taking a deep breath, he leaned against his worktable, closed his eyes and started tapping a rhythm that he had memorized years ago. His mother had taught him Morse code when he was a kid, and this particular phrase was one she had used a lot when he had needed calming down. Written down, the code looked like this:

.. .-.. --- ...- . -.-- --- ..-

I l o v e y o u

He whispered it very quietly a couple of times before looking out from the window and saying aloud:

“Mom. I’m trying to be strong. I really am. But sometimes it just gets too fucking hard. Everything seemed to be fine. Really. My other family is great. I was studying something I actually cared about. My new flatmate… uh, she’s an interesting force of nature. But if she likes someone like Percy… I’d never have a chance. And all my career plans are about to run down to the sewers because I can’t use fire, in any way. Not because of what happened to you. Because of what I... I just feel lost.”

He took a deep breath and rubbed the corner of his eye dry quickly. Saying his thoughts aloud seemed to make him feel a little bit better, and he decided that maybe getting out of the flat and getting some exercise would help with the shakiness. To his relief Calypso wasn’t home either so he didn’t have to answer any awkward questions about why he looked like such a mess. Leo found himself jogging all the way to Waystation, which was several miles from his flat. As he reached the yard, he noticed Georgina with Festus, but even with her back to him he could sense something was wrong. Of course. There was always some way the day could get even worse.

“Hi, hermanita!” he started, trying to sound cheerful even though he didn’t think he was a very good actor. Georgie could probably see right through him. His suspicions were confirmed when Festus didn’t even run to greet him as he usually did. “What’s going on?”

“I tried to call you,” she said, hiding her worry badly. “Moms went to run some errands and something… something happened to him…”

“What do you mean? What exactly happened?” Leo insisted on knowing.

Georgina seemed to grow more and more upset each moment. “I… I gave him a bully stick… but I forgot to put it in a holder even though moms always say you should do that when you give him one because he always tries to swallow them so fast… And then he started feeling sick...”

To prove her point, Festus, who was laying on the ground, made a loud gagging sound. After that he tried to whine but even that didn’t sound like it usually did.

Leo’s ADHD kicked immediately in, in the form of him wanting to act fast.

“We’ll discuss this later, I need to borrow Jo’s car now that I can take him to the vet,” he exclaimed and ran inside the house to get the keys to the car from the spot Jo usually kept them. He picked them and Festus’ leash and ran back, telling Georgina to stay home to tell Jo and Emmie what happened when they’d return.

At least one thing went right that day: the emergency vet clinic was fairly quiet when Leo arrived there. Not long after that, the vet took Festus in. He had an intern with him; a young man who Leo suspected had his roots somewhere in East Asia. He had black, short hair, a bulky body and kind of child like face even though the intern was probably older than Leo. As the vet asked Leo some questions about what exactly had happened to Festus, the student wrote down some notes and occasionally added a short comment as well. When Leo was about to explain why exactly Festus had gotten issues with the bully stick, he heard the intern mutter something to himself.

“What was that?” Leo asked a bit more aggressively than he had planned, having already been stressed even before the issue with Festus had come up. He had to admit, though, that it had distracted him from the other issues.

“Nothing,” the intern quickly said, pretending to focus on his papers again.

Leo didn’t give up that easily. “I heard you, though. You were implying that I had somehow caused this.”

“Well, you did give him the bully stick, didn’t you?” the young man asked.

“I wasn’t even there when he got one!” Leo growled, starting to feel the frustrations from earlier that day flooding out of his system. “My… uh, little sister gave him one when our parents left to run some errands and he kept whining and wanted something to chew! It wasn’t her fault either, she’s a child and she didn’t know that could happen!”

“Mister Valdez, please calm down a bit,” the vet interrupted him, and Leo immediately shut up. “There’s no need to yell. Festus is going to be just fine; I’m going to give him some medicine and fluids to help with digesting the stick and we can watch how he’s doing overnight. And Frank, please don’t make assumptions like that about clients.”

“Yes, sir,” Frank said, to Leo’s surprise actually looking regretful. Then he turned to Leo. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Nah, I kinda lost my cool there too…” Leo said, the frustration leaving when he saw Frank’s face.

“Kinda,” the intern said, attempting to joke about the situation.

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that;” Leo rubbed the back of his neck.

After that the vet asked Leo a couple of more questions and did some more examinations on Festus while Frank helped him.

“Other than this stick issue, he seems like a healthy dog,” the vet complimented after the check up. “His fur and teeth look good. I think you’ve been taking good care of him.”

“Well, to be honest he lives more with my parents than me because they have a lot more space…” Leo said, “But yeah, we all try our best. Even Georgina, my sister.”

“I’m glad to hear that. It’s a good thing you got him here that fast so he’ll get the best possible treatment,” The vet said.

After that he wrote some notes on the computer and then dismissed Leo who scratched Festus from behind his ear and promised to come back soon to get him. As he was putting his jean jacket on in the lobby, the intern, Frank, approached him.

“About what happened earlier, I really am sorry. It isn’t like me to attack clients; you can even ask my boss about that. I just…”

“Chill, man,” Leo said. “I’ve heard this story before. People assume things about me because I look like a problem teenager. Truth to be told? You’re not entirely wrong. But things have changed. And trust me, Festus is my best friend and I’d do anything for him. I’m sure Georgie has learned her lesson too now.”

“Good to hear that,” Frank said and extended his arm to Leo. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow when you’re coming to get Festus.”

Leo nodded. “Yep, I have a feeling my whole family will want to join me. Anyway, I’m off now. Thanks for the help!”

“I’m glad we could help!” Frank told him before he started walking towards his car.

...

Jo and Emmie had already returned to Waystation when Leo got there.

“Is everything OK?” Emmie asked immediately. “We didn’t really get much out of Georgina… Just that something had happened to Festus and you took him to the vet.”

“Nah, it’s gonna be fine!” Leo reassured her. “He got some digestion issues because he gobbled a bully stick too fast but that’s being taken care of now. Georgie sure remembers to be more careful from now on, won’t ya, hermanita?” he addressed the young girl then.

“I will…” she promised, not even protesting about the nickname this time.

Once Leo had explained with more details what had happened at the vet and it became clear that Festus would be fine soon, the family moved to other matters. Unlike usually, Leo was happy with mostly listening to the others. The incident had reminded him that there were bigger matters than girl issues or his studies and he realized that those things didn’t feel quite as hard to overcome now as a few hours ago. Yes, he still needed to deal with them, and yes, his past would probably never stop entirely haunting him, but when he had people like this around him? It wouldn’t be impossible.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #percy jackson and the olympians #my fics #caleo uni au

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kissjane · 4 years

Text

Last one for today, but this one is defs not a drabble, but rather a full one shot, so once again, continue reading under the break! This one was requested by one of the anonymous Davenzi shippers, so anon, hope you enjoy!

And with this one I think I have done 15 out of the 50, that’s 30% done! Yay! The next one will probably be Elu again (#5? #12? #49? I can tell you it won’t be #30, though.).

#23 from this prompt list.

“Just tell me why you did it!” “Because I’m in love with you, okay!”

David knew it was his worst idea ever. He knew he shouldn’t do it, but it was stronger than himself. He knew it would ruin everything, but he just couldn’t lose Matteo.

Matteo. His best friend since as long as they both could remember.

The had never kept a secret for each other. David had known Matteo was gay before anybody else, years ago, and he had kept Matteo’s secret faithfully. Matteo had shown him the same courtesy when David had told Matteo he wanted to transition. And when David had started the long process, Matteo had helped him choose a new name, and had used it without ever slipping up once.

It was straightforward between the two of them. They understood each other without many words, and acceptance was as simple as a nod, an easy ‘okay’, and nothing more was needed.

They knew everything there was to know about one another.

Except for that one thing, the one secret he had kept close to his heart for years now, patiently waiting until Matteo would be ready to come out officially.

He just had never counted upon the fact that Matteo would come out by introducing his boyfriend to the whole squad.

But that was exactly what had happened. Matteo had just shown up with a tall, blue-eyed, blonde guy, and when the boys had fallen silent upon spotting their linked hands, he had bluntly announced the facts.

“Michael, these are my friends, David, Jonas, Carlos, and Abdi. Guys, this is Michael, my boyfriend.”

David had spat out his drink. The others had needed a few seconds to digest the news, but then they had exploded into their usual chaos.

“Bro, when did you get a boyfriend?”

“More importantly, how did you get a boyfriend? You have absolutely no game!”

“And you never felt the need to tell us you were gay before, huh?”

“You shouldn’t just assume he’s gay, bro. He could be bi, too.”

“Way to go, though, Luigi. Way to go.”

“Are you gay, then, Luigi, or what?”

“Doesn’t matter, he’s taken. More girls for us, either way.”

“Man, Michael, we can tell you stories about Luigi…”

And amidst all the noise, Matteo had turned to David.

“Hey,” he’d whispered, “Thanks for keeping the secret all these years. But I guess I’m out now. I couldn’t have done it without you though,” hugging David briefly before turning to the boys again, and putting a firm stop to any potential embarrassing stories.

David knew he should have been happy for Matteo, out and proud, and with a boyfriend, too. But instead, he felt numb.

And that is why something inside him snapped when Michael turned to him, smiling politely, saying he had heard so much about David. And he decided to follow through on his worst idea ever.

“Nice to meet you, Michael. Although I am sure we won’t see each other often.”

The polite smile on the boy’s face faltered slightly.

“I am sorry? What? I wouldn’t keep my boyfriend from his best friend, if that is what you mean.”

David laughed, high and phony.

“Oh, no. I just mean you won’t be his boyfriend for very long.”

He took a sadistic pleasure in seeing the confusion grow in Michael’s eyes.

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, honey,” David said, insincere concern lacing his voice. “You thought Matteo was out now? Oh, no, sorry to disappoint you. His dad is a homophobic dick, but Matteo needs his money. And his mom is very religious, and she’s also in a fragile state right now, so Matteo will not risk her health by telling her he’s gay. I’m afraid he’s just using you for a bit of fun. But he can be a lot of fun, take it from me.”

He winked suggestively. He felt the bile rise in his stomach as soon as the words tumbled out of his mouth, and he wanted to take it all back, claim it was just his way to mess a bit with his best friend’s boyfriend, but he thought he might vomit if he opened his mouth again, so watched helplessly as Michael talked to Matteo, and Matteo just sat there, turning silent and small and sad, his shoulders hunched and his blue eyes dull.

And he still watched as Michael left, and Matteo came back to the table where the boys were still being their rambunctious selves. They didn’t even notice Matteo’s struggle to keep the tears at bay, so Matteo slid silently into the booth next to David, and David, feeling every bit the snake he was, put an arm around Matteo in consolation.

“What’s wrong?”, he asked.

“He – he broke up with me. Just like that. Couldn’t he have done it before we came here and I came out to everybody, then?”

“I’m – I’m so sorry, Matteo…”

“And what did I do wrong? He just said it wouldn’t ever work out. Why, David? I didn’t do anything, wrong, did I? Or am I just not good enough?”

The tears shone in Matteo’s blue eyes, and they were like pools in which David would drown willingly. He couldn’t stand it. He hurt his best friend, out of spite and selfishness. He needed to come clean, confess to his actions of tonight – and the reasons behind them.

He took a deep breath.

“I think I may have said some things to him that were not true, and which scared him away.”

Matteo looked at him as if he just had grown an extra head.

“What? Oh, I see. You are just trying to cheer me up, David, but that’s not necessary, I mean, I guess I’ll just have to get over the fact that nobody will ever love me and –”

“Teo. I’m not trying to cheer you up. I chased Michael off. I – I told him you were not interested in a relationship and were just using him for some fun.”

“You – what?”

The incredulity in Matteo’s voice made David feel even more guilty. He tried to grab Matteo’s hand, but the latter wasn’t having any of it, and shook off David’s arm, too, planting his hands on his knees and looking David straight in the eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Matteo, I didn’t mean to –”

“You didn’t mean to lie to my boyfriend? Or you didn’t mean to break up the two of us? Cut the crap, David. Just tell me why you did it!”

Matteo was full-on angry now, and he actually yelled the last sentence. This finally got the attention of the other boys, who looked up anxiously. David wondered if any of them had ever heard Matteo yell before. Even David had only heard Matteo shout once before, at his father the day the latter had come back to pick up his stuff, three weeks after leaving his teenage son and unstable wife alone.

Three pairs of eyes turned towards Matteo and David now, and David swallowed.

“Why, David? Just tell me why,” Matteo repeated, at a much lower volume, tiredness speaking from his words, his posture, his entire being.

“Because I’m in love with you. Because I’ve loved you for years, okay?”

David almost choked out the words, but his eyes didn’t leave Matteo. All colour drained from Matteo’s face, and he opened his mouth, only to close it again without speaking a word.

It is, in fact, Jonas who broke the silence.

“Hey, uh, boys, let’s go. Call me later, Luigi.”

Carlos and Abdi got the hint, and they stood up, hastily collecting their phones and jackets and scarves and hats. David thought Abdi was wearing Jonas’ gloves, and Carlos had just grabbed a bunch of clothes without actually putting them on, and in a matter of seconds, the boys had disappeared.

Matteo was still staring at him, not moving, not speaking, so David tried again.

“I love you, Teo… I know I shouldn’t have done it, I know I should have been happy for you, but I just –”

“You’ve been in love with me for years?”, Matteo interrupted, forming the words carefully, as if this is the only bit of information he had retained.

“Yes. Yes, Matteo. I know it’s not an excuse, and I swear I’ll make it right again, I’ll call Michael and explain it was a lie, just give me his number and –”

“Why did you never tell me then?”

“What? Oh – uh, I – I didn’t want to put pressure on you. I didn’t know how you felt about me, and I didn’t want to lose you, and even if you could ever see yourself giving me a chance, you weren’t ready to come out yet and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to for my sake… I know I fucked everything up now, and I understand if I lost you anyway because of this. But I swear I will call him, Matteo, and I won’t stand in your way ever again, just… just don’t cut me out of your life completely, please?”

Matteo didn’t answer, and David felt his stomach sink as dread slithered clammily down his spine. Of course, Matteo would not forgive him. He was just about to start begging again, when Matteo spoke, softly.

“I love you too.”

David felt sucker-punched straight into the gut.

“Matteo?”

“I just didn’t think I could have you…”

David wasn’t sure if this was reality, or whether he had somehow entered a parallel universe.

“But you can! God, you can, Teo!”

Matteo nodded, seemingly lost in thoughts. David decided to push his luck. If he was indeed in a dream, he might as well make the most out of it. He took Matteo’s hands in his. Matteo didn’t pull back this time, and David considered it a good sign.

“So… uhm… Can you forgive me, then?”

Matteo looked up, then, and his beautiful eyes had found their sparkle again.

“I don’t know… It all depends…”

“On?”, David asked, his heart beating rapidly as he awaited Matteo’s answer.

“How good you kiss,” Matteo smirked, and David laughed, carefree and bright.

“No pressure,” he murmured, teasingly, as he leaned in, and finally – finally – captured Matteo’s lips.

This was by far the best idea he ever had, he thought, before all rational thought left him completely.

#I write things #davenzi #50 cliché prompts #all the davenzi shipping anons

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snarkwrites · 3 years

Text

02| trouble |greg sanders

Notes:

So apparently, I wasn’t done with these two? Yeah.. I thought I’d post another part to their whole /story./ as it were. So, here we are.. I am... honestly lowkey tempted to do this with my Tim Speedle x OC one shots too, because I had this whole ass backstory that I broke down and condensed greatly there that I could rewind and do, too...

So if anybody wants to see it (either of them, Tim or continuing this with Greg), lemme know I guess?

Either way.. Here we are. Part II. Yay! For those who missed part I it is ( here ) I’m off to go brainstorm more on this and create a soundtrack, hehe.

Pairing:

Greg Sanders x Sidle!OFC.

Warnings:

Uhhh... heavy lingering sexual tension. Mutual pining. A whole lotta cute awkward fluffy times.. Eventually, filth. This is non timeline compliant, btw... so if you’re strictly by the timeline posed in the series, I’m sorry? Kinda?

Tagging:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@twistnet

[ faq | tag list doc | soundtrack ]

TWO. “What the hell are you watching?”

At the sound of Nick’s voice, Greg tried to avert his gaze. Tried to look anywhere but out the window and down into the pool area which happened to be right below the balcony of his apartment. He’d been completely distracted. Forgotten all about Nick still being at his place..

He stepped away from the window, turning his entire body away from it so that his back was facing it.

Nick chuckled and stepped over to the window, peering down.

“Well, I know it’s not the blonde.” Nick mused aloud, fixing a teasing gaze on his friend as he did so.

“What the hell do you mean you know it’s not the blonde?” Greg’s brow raised at Nick’s assumption. Even though it hadn’t been the blonde, he hadn’t even realized there was even a blonde down at the pool until Nick mentioned her just then, he wondered what automatically made Nick rule out the blonde.

Nick chuckled. “You have a type, Greggo.”

“I do not have a type.” Greg argued.

Nick eyed him and after a second or two, he shrugged. Then with a smirk, he went on. “I can tell you exactly which girl you were starin at so hard your eyes were about to pop right outta your skull though.”

Greg rolled his eyes in annoyance, folding his arms over his chest.

“Fine. Go for it.”

“The leggy brunette in the black Ouija board bikini with the top untied and the lime green earbuds in. She was on the red beach towel, layin on her stomach... I think she was reading a horror novel and eating a green apple. Had herself a little garter tattoo… Am I right?”

Greg’s mouth opened and closed quickly because Nick had him dead to rights and he didn’t feel like arguing. “How the hell did you know? And why the hell were you staring so hard anyway, man?”

“She’s cute. Not my type at all, but cute.” Nick was peering out the window of Greg’s apartment now, probably watching the blonde. When Greg asked him the question, he chuckled and spun around, holding his co-worker’s gaze.

“ Because I know you. I know you well enough to know that you’re gonna go for the dark haired girl, every single time.” Nick shrugged. Greg eyed him, waiting on further elaboration. Which Nick gave, a second later.

“You were checkin her out Monday morning too when I dropped you off after work. When she was jogging?”

“I was not.” Greg said it quickly. Defensively. Entirely too quickly and defensively and he knew almost immediately that Nick didn’t buy that for a single second.

“You were, Greggo. Don’t even bother denyin’ it, I pretty much caught you. Both times, buddy.”

The sound of Greg’s apartment door being knocked on had both men sharing a look. “Were you expecting somebody, Greggo?”

“No..” Greg eyed the door, walking over to it and unlatching the locks, peering out the crack in the door when he opened it.

Belle leaned in the doorway lazily, a sheepish look on her face. Cheeks tinted pale pink and hints of a little bit of a sunburn starting to show. “I,uh… Well shit, this is lovely.” she stammered after a few seconds of the two staring at one another again, her hands dragging through her hair.

“What’s up?” Greg opened the door, letting Belle into his apartment and Nick eyed the two, chuckling to himself as he walked to the door and cleared his throat. “I’m goin back to my place, man. Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah. My car will be out of the shop Friday, I think.” Greg waved him off and the door closed, leaving him alone in his living room with Belle.

His eyes wanted to roam but he didn’t dare. He cleared his throat and tried to swallow down the lump that had formed in it over the space of the minute or two since he’d opened the door to find her standing outside.

“What’s up?” he eyed her in concern.

“I went down to the pool to swim a few laps and tan… And I may or may not have forgotten the key to my sister’s place… She told me if I managed to lose my key somehow or get locked out, you had their other spare?” Belle gazed up at him hopefully, shuffling bare feet against the living room floor.

“Oh shit.” Greg chuckled. “Yeah, they gave me a spare when they got the place and realized I lived across from them. Let me go try to find it.”

He wandered down the hall and into his bedroom, locating where he’d sat the key on top of his dresser. Pocketing that, he called out to her, “How is it so far?”

She wandered down the hall, leaning in the doorway of his room. Biting her lip as she realized that he was taking off his button up shirt. She only barely managed to tear her eyes off of broad shoulders before he turned around to face her.

“It’s peaceful? It’s a lot more peaceful than New Orleans was.” Belle answered, their eyes locking on each other all over again. Greg went to step out of his bedroom and this put the two of them body to body for a second or two and he barely managed to bite back the groan that wanted to come at the way she felt somewhat pressed against him like she was right now.

He found his eyes drifting down and settling on her lips.

She dragged her hand through her hair and his eyes drifted upward, watching the movement. Biting his lip as he did so before remembering the key she’d come to get. He put it into her hand, curling her hand closed around it and maybe he didn’t want to let go. Maybe he held on just a second or two longer. She gave a soft laugh and stepped away, following him back up the hall as he started back towards his living room, falling down onto the couch.

“Hey, if you’re not doing anything.. Nevermind. You’re a graveyard shifter like Sara and Gil.. I need to get goin’ and let you get your sleep…” Belle started, stepping towards his front door. Greg called out, “No, what were you going to ask?”

“Well, I’m not the greatest cook or anything.. But I was going to ask if you wanted to come over? Maybe grab some food with me?”

She shuffled her feet, leaning her back against his door as she gazed at him. Greg got caught up in staring at her and almost forgot that she’d asked a question, finally managing to answer a few seconds later, “Actually, I’d like that…”

“Sweet.. I was gonna throw something together and supposedly, it’ll be ready in an hour?”

“Supposedly?” Greg questioned, smiling at her as their eyes met again at last. “Yeah.. I’m covering my own ass because it’s like I said. I’m not the best cook.. And it may well end in the fire department having to come by.” Belle gave him that little troublemaker smirk as she shrugged and he chuckled, nodding.

“I’ll be over in a few minutes. I’m gonna go grab a shower.”

She smiled at him and nodded, giving him the thumbs up as she closed the door to his apartment behind her.

Greg let out several long and shaky breaths and rose from the couch, heading to take his shower.

XXX

I’m surprised I heard the door being knocked on over the sound of The Artic Monkeys blasting through my sister and Gil’s apartment, just to drive out the heavy and almost oppressive silence.

But as soon as I did, I bit my lip, staring at the door. It probably wasn’t a good idea to do this as I was attempting to cut up vegetables for the stir fry I was going to try to make for Greg and I to eat. I managed to nick my finger and, swearing under my breath, I grabbed one of the paper towels next to the stove, holding it against my finger as I called out to Greg, “Just a second.”

I managed to get the finger situation under control and I slunk over, opening the door and stepping out of the way so Greg could step in.

He eyed my paper towel wrapped finger and I bit my lip, giving a soft laugh and shrugging. “It’s like I said. I can’t actually cook that well. And apparently, kitchen knives hate me.”

“Let me see it.” he was reaching for my hand and to my surprise, before I could stop myself, I was letting him take my hand in his. He unwrapped the paper towel and eyed the very small wound carefully. I spoke up. “It’ll be fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“Yeah, but it’s still bleeding a little. Did you at least clean it out?”

I shook my head. Apparently, the running theme here is that every single time I’m around Greg Sanders, my mouth and brain are going to cease all function. I wanted to smack myself in the back of the head for it because it wasn’t me at all.

“Yeah, you need to clean that out.” Greg spoke up again, catching my attention. I nodded. Found myself distracted by his eyes and then his mouth… The strong jawline.

,, Christ, you are ridiculous. Get it together, Belle.” I admonished myself, ,, First you’re cooking and you know not the first fucking thing about cooking beyond ramen and barbecue on a grill.. Or frozen meals. What next, huh?”

I stepped away and slunk towards the bathroom down the hall, finding the bandaids and an alcohol pad.

“Fuck.” I hissed as soon as I’d gotten the alcohol pad out of it’s wrapper and pressed it against the pad of my finger. Greg leaned in the doorway, dragging his hand over his hair. “It smells good. The food, I meant..”

“Thank you.” I glanced up at him, struggling with getting the band-aid around the end of my finger without getting it too tight or having it stick to itself. He stepped into my sister’s bathroom and took my hand in his, biting his lip as he fixed his gaze on the finger and the band-aid, wrapping it around securely before glancing back up at me.

“That should be good.”

The fact that he had to let go of my hand had me pouting a little, then fuming at myself about that internally. I finally managed to bring myself to pull my hand away and slunk up the hallway, into the kitchen. Stopping by my docked phone to change the song from Girls Just Wanna Have Fun to Need You Tonight, dancing over to the stove. Making Greg laugh at me from the doorway.

I stopped mid wiggle and stuck my tongue at him. “What’s so funny, huh? I happen to think INXS fucks.”

Greg shrugged as he stepped into the kitchen. Closer to me. I gulped, staring up at him. Not entirely sure what to say all of a sudden and definitely not sure what to do with my hands. “I mean, you’re not wrong.” he was staring right back down at me. One of us stepped closer and behind me, the shrill cry of the smoke alarm and the smell of my food burning just a little had me biting the inside of my cheek and swearing, pouting as I stepped away abruptly and made my way over to the stove to turn it off and see just how bad the damage to our food was.

“Well fuck.” I whined, turning back. Finding myself close to him all over again. Dangerously close.

Brown eyes seemed to stare straight into my soul before finally breaking away, nodding towards the wok filled with the burnt remains of what I’d been trying to cook.

,, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach my mom said… explain this fiasco, mom…” I gave a soft laugh and shook my head at the thought as it came and I sighed. I didn’t want him to leave.

Him leaving meant that I’d be in this apartment alone again, for one thing. For another, maybe there was just… something about him. A magnetic pull.

The harder I tried to fight it, which I had at first, the harder it was to fight.

“So, uh… do you know anywhere that’s open? I’ll pay.” I offered quickly. Mentally kicking myself because it almost felt clingy.. I hated that I couldn’t control myself more than anything right now. Especially after all that I’d gone through before my arrival in Las Vegas. That alone should have taught me a huge lesson.

But here I went again.

Greg chuckled, rubbing his chin in thought.

“I do have food at my place. And I can throw something together.” he said it and immediately did the same as I had when I’d asked if there were anywhere to go. Tensing slightly, almost as if he expected me to say no. “Forget it, it’s late.. That was probably dumb to ask..” he trailed off after a second or two, but I shook my head no, giving a smile.

“Actually, I’d like that. I love my sister and Gil but this place is a little… creepy… at night. Maybe it’s because it’s so quiet and I’m not used to that yet.”

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it.” he gave me that lazy grin and raked his hand over his hair. “If you want to come over, Belle… I wouldn’t mind at all. I never actually go to sleep when I get in for an hour or two anyway.”

“Oh, I want to.” I replied, slipping on my favorite boots, grabbing the key to my sister’s place and following him out into the hallway, pausing to lock the door. I turned around and found myself kind of pressed against him in the doorway. “Ready when you are.” I smiled, my eyes getting lost in his all over again…

#greg sanders fanfiction #greg sanders fanfic #greg sanders fic #greg sanders imagine #greg sanders imagines #my writing ; greg sanders #my fanfiction ; greg sanders #my fics ; greg sanders #// hope ya'll enjoy agonizingly SLOW burn.#because oof. this is that.

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mammon-sama · 4 years

Text

To Be Human (Fanfiction) Part 5/?

This took ... way longer than expected due to my sheer laziness. Thank you for your patience! Also, here is the link to this chapter on AO3. (Also yay, I finally remembered to include a Michael and Lucifer Celestial Realm flashback!)

Title:

To Be Human

Summary:

When a mysterious force attacks the Devildom and destroys it, the brothers are forced to turn to their Father in the Celestial Realm for answers and assistance. However, the Almighty is still miffed at the seven due to their involvement in the Great Celestial War, and sends them to seek asylum in the one place they have yet to make their mark—the Human World.

Without the help of their beloved MC, the brothers must learn to assimilate into this strange new world, all while trying to figure out who is responsible for the destruction of the Devildom and take back their home.

Rating:

Word Count:

4195

Previous Chapter:

Read Chapter 4 here!

Lucifer adjusted his halo, which floated almost ominously over his head. Halos were considered part of the angels’ “formal attire,” but considering Lucifer was constantly in the presence of Father, wearing something so ceremonial for his work attire seemed appropriate.

“Michael, are you nearly ready?” he called, his voice reverberating through the House of Great Elation. “You know Father doesn’t like it if I’m late.”

He checked the ornate gold grandfather clock that was situated at the edge of one of the many parlors in their home.

It was almost fifteen minutes until eight, and in that time, he and Michael had to walk to Simeon and Uriel’s home—Perfection Hall—and drop off the infant Luke on their way to their Father’s Palace, where Lucifer worked. After that, Michael would meander his way to the Celestial Realm barracks, where he led Father’s legions as their Major General.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Michael panted, running down the grand staircase which connected to his wing of the house. He supported Luke, who was thrown over his shoulder with one hand, and in the other, he held his Sword of the Spirit.

Lucifer cringed when he noticed that the rest of the Angel of Destruction’s Armor of God had been strapped on haphazardly — tightened and loosened at ill-fitting places, but he sighed when he remembered that all the soldiers under him were far too terrified of their Major General to ever point it out.

He nodded at Michael. “Let’s go, then. Step lively—we’ll be late, otherwise.”

The pair walked silently down the bustling streets of the Celestial Realm, which, sad to say, became infinitely less bustling when they saw Michael. In fact, sometimes Lucifer wondered if his Father had gotten His idea of parting the Red Sea for the Israelites from seeing the wide berth that the other angels gave toward the Angel of Destruction.

Lucifer hated to say that he—and Michael—were used to this. Used to the stares, the whispers, the glares, the hushed scathing remarks.

Even Luke cooed uneasily.

“He destroys everything he touches!”

“Love the guy, but you can’t keep him around. The man carries an aura of destruction.”

“So powerful, but at what cost?”

“Who does he think he’s fooling with that puppy-dog attitude?”

“Why do we even need an Angel of Destruction, anyway? He’s just a menace.”

The words were a dagger, dull but piercing, toward the happy-go-lucky Michael, who had but nothing but love and friendship to offer his fellow celestial beings.

Lucifer heaved a sour breath as he and Michael made their way toward Perfection Hall.

If it wasn’t for him and the Archangels, Michael would’ve been all alone.

Or worse—ran out of the Celestial Realm.

Mammon bit his lip as the static-laden voice boomed through the landline base. He hadn’t been asked to study the Bible or any ancient history regarding it since his stint at the Celestial Realm. The only thing about King Solomon that he remembered from back then was that he was incredibly wealthy, and Mammon had always reveled in calculating how much the king’s possessions were worth—the sheer magnitude of the value never ceased to amaze him.

However, he also did remember something about King Solomon being the “wisest man to ever live.” His heralded wisdom, supposedly, had come to him through a dream from God, Who had promised Solomon anything in the world. Instead of choosing riches and wealth, the king had chosen wisdom. Pleased with his request, God granted him not only the wisdom that he had requested but worldly pleasures as well, such as insurmountable wealth and power.

… Why in the world would such a blessed and influential man pose as a menial exchange student and interact with demons thousands of years later?

Mammon lost his train of thought when Lucifer walked closer to the speakerphone and bellowed, “It is us.”

There was silence on the other end and the other five brothers exchanged glances—partially due to Lucifer’s vague response and partially because of the aforementioned quietness.

Suddenly, a crackle came through the speaker and Solomon said, “Ah, I see; unfortunately, that doesn’t aid me in discerning your identity, and as I’ve a great deal of powerful enemies, I think I will have to say goodb—”

“Solomon, it’s me! Asmo!” the fifthborn chirped. He raised an eyebrow at Lucifer, who sighed in surrender and stepped away from the phone.

From the speaker came an audible gasp. “Asmo! It’s been a long time.” Another crackle. “I suppose that that was Lucifer just now?”

Mammon snickered and called, “That was him, alright.”

“I see! Pardon me for asking, but why are you calling from this unknown number? I believe I have your D.D.D contact saved still.”

“Long story,” chimed in Leviathan. “We’re in the Human World now ‘cause we think someone’s out to get us in the Devildom.”

Satan nodded. “And we’re using this primitive human technology called a ‘landline’ to reach you, as we’ve yet to be provided with mobile devices.”

Something crashed on Solomon’s end, and Mammon wagered that he must have dropped his phone in shock. A moment later, the sorcerer’s voice returned. “Did I hear that right? You seven are in the Human World?”

“Yes, we are. We called you because we have some questions.” Beel walked forward so that he was standing directly in front of the speaker. “What are the best restaurants up here?”

A confused mumble came from Solomon, before he answered, “Uh, well—”

“You can hold off on answering that one, for now, Solomon,” interrupted Lucifer, shaking his head at Beel. “Rather, we figure you can help us solve a different problem of ours.”

“And that would be?”

Lucifer took a deep breath, and Mammon had to admit that he’d never seen his elder brother look so stressed. He was surprised that Asmo hadn’t scolded him over the wrinkle that was beginning to form between his brows. “Diavolo and the Devildom are in trouble, and someone has stolen information regarding the culprit behind this entire ordeal from my Father’s omniscience. Without it, we cannot find Diavolo or discern who is behind this. You have ties to many demons, not to mention are a sorcerer—”

“And the primordial King of Israel! Did you ever plan on telling me that? I think I should know if I have a pact with someone as glamorous as royalty!” huffed Asmodeus.

Solomon let out an amused hum. “Oh, so you figured that out, did you? Did Simeon tell you?”

“Apparently he’s the one who set your contact into our phone under the name ‘his Imperial Majesty, King Solomon of Israel,’ so kinda, yeah,” Mammon said.

“Mind explaining how you’re some kind of immortal king?” demanded Belphie. “Last time I checked, humans don’t live for very long.”

The sorcerer laughed. “I suppose you know that I once asked God for wisdom in a dream, and as soon as I had it, all kinds of arcane knowledge regarding sorcery and magic, demons and angels, was opened up to me, and from there I learned about demon pacts. One time I pledged my life to a demon—my soul for immortality.”

Satan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “If I’m following you correctly, wouldn’t that have to mean that you sold your soul rather early in your life to look as youthful as you do now? Unless … you also managed to change your appearance entirely?”

“Nice catch, Satan,” mused Solomon. “Actually, yes, it was quite early in my reign that I began to dabble in the dark arts and sell my soul, and yes, my immortality does prevent me from physically aging. Ah, wait, that’s not entirely true—my hair is the only thing that continues to age, which is the reason as to why it’s as white as it is.”

“I really feel as if I ought to have been made aware of this!” grumbled Asmo.

Mammon put a hand to his cheek pensively, as the fifthborn continued to bemoan the massive injustice that had been done to him through this secret. Something didn’t seem right about Solomon’s story. As far as he was concerned, his Father wasn’t a fan of demons—that much He had made very clear—and there was no way that a person who consorted with them to the degree that Solomon supposedly had in the past would be remembered honorably in the Bible.

But that wasn’t the case. If he was remembering correctly, God had nothing but praises to sing of Solomon, and save for his singular mistake of having his heart led astray by his unholy number of wives, the king was revered and respected in biblical history. He even had penned several books of the Bible, displaying his wisdom and knowledge.

That certainly didn’t line up with the current Solomon’s tale of occult dealings.

Mammon shot Lucifer a look, and the firstborn nodded. It appeared that he had made the same observation. He stepped forward.

“Solomon, do you really expect us to believe that someone as perverse as you claim to be could be remembered so admirably in the Bible? The words written in there echo Father’s thoughts verbatim, and there is no way that someone as obsessed with purity and light as He is could approve of your dark actions,” inquired Lucifer with a raised eyebrow.

Solomon chuckled in amusement but gave no reply.

Lucky for them, he didn’t have to, for Satan’s eyes lit up as he pieced the two shards of information together. “You wanted to be remembered as a proper and perfect king for millennia to come, so you went in and removed all traces of your dealings with the occult from Father’s omniscience. Because it’s all that Father knows, your memory in history now consists only of your good deeds.”

“And one bad one for realism,” added Solomon. “Everyone makes mistakes, you know. I can’t have humanity believing that living a perfect life is attainable, no matter what your Father says.”

Mammon felt as if his head was starting to spin with all this new information.

He realized … if Solomon revealed that the process of removing information from their Father’s omniscience was easy, then perhaps he could use it as an excellent business opportunity. Who wouldn’t pay gobs of money to have their past mistakes wiped completely from the Almighty’s knowledge?

But maybe that was going too far …

Nevertheless, Mammon still had to ask, “So how’d ya do it, anyway? Remove stuff from Father’s memory ‘n’ all?”

He could hear the irritating smile on the sorcerer’s face as he replied, “I’m not sure if I should tell you.”

To his surprise, it was Asmo who yanked the phone upward and yelled, “Solomon, don’t make me spank you—and not in the fun way, either! That kind of information is the kind we need to go back home to the Devildom. I can’t stay here in this stupid Human World for much longer! We’re poor, and I have to share a bathroom—a bathroom—with these barbarians!”

Solomon sighed. “Calm down, Asmo. Fine, I’ll explain, but I doubt it’ll help you as much as you think.”

Lucifer gestured for the other five brothers to inch closer to the speaker, and Satan whipped out a notepad and pen from his pocket to write notes, as Solomon began, “Your Father is only as powerful as He is because He possesses three things that make Him so—His omnipotence, which means He has the power to do anything; His omnipresence, which means He can be anywhere at any time, and finally, His omniscience, which means He knows all. Your Father has access to these three attributes of Himself at all times, but that doesn’t mean He uses them constantly—”

“Because He thinks that it takes the fun out of things—yes, we know that, Solomon,” interrupted Lucifer impatiently.

Solomon coughed. “Er—well, okay, then. Anyway, these three attributes are considered separate from God Himself, as in, they have a separate location in His mind than His regular thoughts. All you have to do is find a way to transport yourself directly into God’s mind where the three attributes are located, find the omniscience attribute, and then alter the information found within it.”

The seven brothers stared at each other in disbelief, before Levi moaned, “Oh, that’s all? You just have to teleport yourself into the mind of an OP deity? Piece of cake.”

Satan snapped his fingers. “Wait, since this feat appears to be so difficult to achieve, that should help us, since I’m assuming only a few people could execute it. With such a small pool of potential suspects, we should easily be able to discern who was the one who removed the information regarding the Devildom’s destruction and Diavolo’s whereabouts from Father’s memory.”

“You’re right—but I wasn’t finished,” said Solomon, eliciting a chorus of groans from the demons. “Teleporting into your Father’s mind is difficult enough, and even if you do, you’d instantly be marked as an intruder, because since everyone’s power pales in comparison to your Father’s, His mind can instantly recognize when something weaker enters it. Imagine you have a soft lump of clay and somehow a stone gets mixed into it. When you touch the clay, it’s easy to distinguish the stone because it feels so different from the malleable clay that surrounds it—that’s how it’s like in God’s mind. Anyone that enters it immediately stands out because everything else in His mind is so powerful.”

Belphegor yawned. “Do you have a point?”

“Yes. The only way to blend into His mind undetected is if you yourself are powerful and combine your power with others who are just as powerful; that way you generate enough power so that you can not only cast a spell to enter God’s mind but also so that you remain unexposed in it. I find the best combination of beings to combine powers with are angels and demons—at least one of each. Somehow the potency of this combination is unprecedented.” Solomon cleared his throat. “Does that answer all your questions?”

Mammon scratched his head. Powerful angels and demons were in abundance in both the Celestial Realm and the Devildom … that didn’t necessarily narrow down their number of suspects. “Was it s'posed to?”

Solomon laughed. “I guess not. I told you me telling you things wouldn’t help as much as you think.”

The brothers exchanged irritated glances, before Lucifer, massaging his forehead, grumbled, “I suppose it’s better than nothing. You’re dismissed, Solomon—” He ignored the protesting sorcerer as he clicked off the landline and turned toward Satan. “Start making a list of all the powerful angels and demons back home and in the Celestial Realm.”

Satan grumbled very loudly, but obeyed without any other protest, as Mammon asked, “How’s that gonna help? It’s not like we got a gauge that tells us what a powerful angel or demon is.”

“Yeah, calling Solomon was one of the most useless side quests I’ve ever done,” said Leviathan.

“Hush, you two,” scolded Lucifer, staring intently at Satan, who was voraciously making his list. “I can already see the gears turning in his head. If any one of us can figure this out, it’s Satan.”

Satan’s head whipped up at his words, a fire in his eyes. “I see how it is—stick all the work on the middle child .”

Before anyone could retaliate, a sound echoed through the house. It sounded strange, like someone had rung a bell, and Mammon had to stop himself from instinctively leaping into Levi’s arms—which he considered to be very proactive of himself, for the thirdborn had a nasty habit of hurling Mammon into the ground whenever he did so.

The brothers, who had fallen silent at the sound, shrugged as a unit when they couldn’t discern where the noise was coming from, before Lucifer put his hand on his forehead and addressed Satan again, saying, “If that’s how you wish to see it, then—” He was interrupted once more by the ringing sound. “What in Father’s name is that?”

“Almost sounds like a cowbell,” mumbled Belphie.

Leviathan’s eyes lit up. “Wait—I’ve got it! I’ve heard this sound about a thousand times in What To Do When A Big-Tiddy Anime Girl Is At Your Door But You’re Too Afraid to Let Her In Because She’s Glowing The Colors of the Entire Electromagnetic Spectrum. It’s one of those Human World doorbells!”

“Doesn’t sound like any doorbell I’ve ever heard,” Mammon said. Didn’t all doorbells sound like the screaming of ten thousand souls trapped in a burning abyss? Their doorbell in the House of Lamentation certainly had.

Lucifer gestured toward the fifthborn. “Asmo, you go check the door.”

“Me? Are you crazy? What if it’s a murderer or something? They’ll take one look at me and be so jealous of my beauty that they’ll kill me on sight!”

“In that case, you definitely should go. Take Mammon with you, too.”

“The Great Mammon resents ya, Lucifer, for that!” Mammon replied, glaring daggers at his elder brother as he walked toward the door, a sulking Asmo in tow.

As they neared the door, the bell sound rang through the house again, and the sheer volume there led Mammon to conclude that Levi was right—the sound definitely was the doorbell. He yanked open the door, and immediately upon seeing who was behind it, slammed it closed.

He ignored the injured “Hey!” that came from the other side as he yelled toward his brothers, “Call Animal Control!”

Asmo laughed. “Don’t call Animal Control on the cute little chihuahua.” He turned toward the door and opened it, greeting the guest with a “Hello there, Luke.”

The young angel let out a very offended sniff, before walking through the threshold, pulling behind him a droll little white wagon. “Don’t expect me to entertain the company of demons for very long, but Simeon said I should deliver these things to you.” He gestured toward the parcels that almost overflowed out of the wagon bed.

Mammon’s eyes lit up at the packages. “Whaddaya got for me?”

Luke, who seemed to not have forgiven the secondborn for slamming the door in his face said, “Your box is at the bottom.” Quietly, he muttered, “Hopefully, it’s all smushed by now.”

Before Mammon could snark a reply, his other brothers walked into the hall.

“Ah, welcome, Luke,” greeted Satan, nodding at the angel. “I take it that those packages are for us?”

“Please tell me there’s a gaming console or some manga in there,” begged Leviathan, yanking a hand through his hair. “The laptop we’ve got now can barely stream any anime and forget downloading any games—the thing’s way too slow.”

Luke’s eyes widened in disgust at Levi’s suggestion. “O—of course, there isn’t! The stuff Simeon gave me is all useful stuff.” He began to unload the boxes off of the wagon, handing each brother a package with their name on it. “I know Simeon said everything would arrive later in the week, but things went faster than expected, so.”

Mammon grumbled when his parcel, indeed, was all scrunched and squished at the edges. Inside the bundle was a driving license, a mobile device that was creatively called “iPhone,” and various boring papers that were supposed to be bank statements (he almost vomited at the sight of them) and other official documents.

Mammon gulped as he shuffled the contents together; seeing them made him realize that this was all real. His brothers and he were really going to be living in the Human World, posed as humans, for Father-knows-how-long.

He could feel the bile rise in his throat, but he choked it down and shook his head. What kind of demon was nervous about living with humans? After all, one of his most favorite beings in all three worlds was a human, weren’t they?

Before he could ponder anymore, Beel gestured toward the last box in the wagon. It was plain and unmarked and smelled of sweetness and love and joy and other generally unpleasant things for demons. Nevertheless, it made all of their mouths water. “What’s that?”

Luke blushed as he gently picked up the box and held it out. “It’s—it’s not like I—I baked Heavenly Peace Petit Fours for you demons as a housewarming gift or anything! I just happened to be making them for Michael and had some extra!”

Beel snatched the box out of his hands and immediately began chowing down on the delicate confections. He pat Luke on the head gently mid-bite. “Good doggy.”

Mammon could barely contain his laughter as Luke’s face turned a shade akin to the strawberry jam he’d layered between the petit fours and sputtered, “I—I am not a dog!”

“Shh, now, don’t tease him so much,” Lucifer chided, although a small smirk had formed on his lips, as well. “We need him to answer a few questions, now, don’t we?”

Mammon raised an eyebrow. “We do?”

He didn’t like the look on Lucifer’s face as the eldest bent low to reach eye level with the young angel, whose eyes widened in something that seemed to be a cross between indignation and terror.

“Tell me, Luke,” demanded Lucifer, his voice low and as smooth as honey, “what you and Father and the other angels have to say about the Celestial Realm Cellular Service and Internet Provider?” His eyes flashed red and Luke stumbled backward, dropping the handle on his wagon.

“I—I’m not supposed to tell you,” gulped Luke. The obstinacy drained out of his eyes and was replaced with pure, unadulterated fear as the eldest bared down on him. “Anyone who’s not an angel isn't supposed to know that.”

Lucifer laughed, a menacing sound. He inched closer, “Ah, but you’ll tell us, right?”

Mammon normally didn’t mind when Lucifer went full-demon on people, but … come on, Luke couldn’t have been more than ten in angel years … he was just a kid. He put a hand gingerly on his brother’s shoulder. “Yo, calm down.”

Lucifer whirled toward him, and Mammon’s heart sank in pity. Beneath the glowing vermillion eyes, he could see it all.

Fatigue.

Desperation.

Disappointment.

Shame.

He understood.

In just a short period of time, Lucifer had lost his home and his beloved friend, was forced to bow to the aid of a realm that had abandoned him and so he despised, and was made to live in a place that was far inferior from what he was used to. Solomon had been their only lead, and he had proven to not be much help. Their only respite at this point was to get this little angel to divulge the only other information that they could hope to have.

Mammon sighed and pushed Lucifer aside—a dangerous move, he knew. “Let me do it.”

Lucky for him, Beel and Asmo were already restraining their elder brother as they tried to calm him down. He turned to Luke. “Look, chihuahua, ya really think we’re gonna feel comfortable knowin’ the Celestial Realm is spyin’ on us with that little phone company of theirs?”

Luke wrinkled his nose. “Spying on you? Why would anyone want to spy on a bunch of demons?”

“Why else would the Celestial Realm immediately make us use their cell service and internet provider?” argued Levi.

“Well, I guess you demons wouldn’t know this, since it was implemented after you guys left," explained Luke, "but the Celestial Realm Cellular Service and Internet Provider—we call it CRCSIP, by the way—is one of the many Celestial Realm-owned companies throughout the world—”

“So I was right,” Mammon interrupted, “the Celestial Realm is goin’ capitalist.”

Luke fervently shook his head. “No, it’s not. All companies owned by the Celestial Realm are there for angels and angels only. They’re to be used free of charge for any celestial being since angels who are residing down on Earth are usually Guardian Angels who still need to purchase things for themselves but don’t work human jobs and therefore don’t have any human money.” He kicked the ground. “Father put you guys on one of the CRCSIP’s plans just as another way to help you out.”

Lucifer, who had calmed down a bit and now was flushed with embarrassment at his actions, coughed and said, “Unacceptable. We never asked for this.”

“We’ll be takin’ the free stuff, though!” Mammon chirped.

Leviathan ran a hand through his hair. “All that doesn’t necessarily mean we still can’t be spied on.”

The angel grit his teeth. “For the last time, who the heck would wanna spy on a bunch of demons?”

“The same person who’d destroy the Devildom with Hellfire and possibly abduct Diavolo and remove information from Father's omniscience,” Satan shot back. He drew out his notepad and pointed to the column where he had been printing powerful angel names. “Do any of these angels have access to any of the inner workings of the CRCSIP?”

Luke peered at the list for a moment. “I’m just a Junior Guardian, so I don’t know much, but I’m guessing that the only one with clearance to the records and information like that would be … oh yes, he’s on the list—Michael.”

Lucifer blanched. “Michael?”

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