#grey goose got your girl feeling loose

[hairmetal666]

They start kissing on stage as a joke.

The night before the first time, they're at an afterparty, pounding shots, and Eddie is reading aloud a piece that just came out in Rolling Stone. "'One of the most noteworthy parts of Munson and Harrington's unlikely pairing is their chemistry on stage. It's like these two men--one on his way to being the latest metal god, the other an indie rock wunderkind--are two parts of one musical whole. Their singing, their playing, even their bodies twine and flow with assuredness; where one goes, the other follows without question. They share a single brain-cell and that cell is music'."

Steve giggles, pours some more Grey Goose into the glass. "If they say that now, could you imagine what would happen if we, like, kissed on stage or something."

"What the fuck, Harrington?" Eddie splutters, having just thrown a drink back.

"I don't know, other bands do it!"

Eddie snorts. "I'm cutting you off." He reaches for the bottle and the suggestion is forgotten for wrestling over the liquor.

Steve barely remembers it in the morning. Doesn't think about it at all as he gets ready to go out on stage.

They're playing one of the instrumental breakdowns when it happens. They're leaning into each other, Eddie smiling over his shoulder at him, their eyes locked, bodies moving together. "You wanna?" Eddie mouths at him.

Steve nods before the question actually registers and by then Eddie's warm, soft mouth is against his and he just-- completely forgets what he's doing. His hands still on the guitar strings, and he melts a little, going completely boneless when Eddie grips the back of his head, pulls him deeper into the kiss. t's over almost as quickly as it started, Eddie pulling away and swirling to the mic to start the next verse.

The kiss sinks into Steve's bones, and that's before it becomes a regular feature of their performances. After that night, they're never at the same time during the show, all initiated by Eddie, all over before he can catch his breath; each one chaste and surrounded by people but somehow more intimate than any make out.

He and Eddie, they're friends, bandmates, collaborators. They've known each other since they first started out, forging an immediate connection with they stumbled upon each other hiding out in the garden at some industry bigwig's party. And as much as he loved his friend, never once in that time had Steve considered wanting Eddie.

But now, now he falls asleep with the ghost of Eddie on his lips, goes into each show with a thrum of anticipation, catches himself thinking how beautiful his friend is when he's all rumpled and disheveled from a night in the tour bus bunks.

They've always been easy with physical affection, but once the kissing starts they're constantly in each other's space, idly playing with hair, laying across laps, heads on shoulders, twisting together on the tour bus couch. Steve is ruined with every touch, every moment; he can't get enough.

The first time Eddie uses tongue destroys every last piece of Steve's composure. They've added a new song to the setlist, a remixed version of Eddie's hit "Prince Charming". It's hard, heavy, sexy, one of Steve's favorites. And in the middle of it, right in the middle, Eddie shoves him against a low platform, kisses him like he's trying to own him, tongues twining eager and wet and full of sinful promise. It's like that every show after, Eddie kissing him deep and thorough, like he's trying to lick up every drop of Steve.

He is, unquestionably, fucked. Unquestionably falling. Can't properly fathom how he'd gotten himself here, desperate for Eddie's kiss, as performative as it may be.

They're packing up equipment after a show. Eddie's hair is piled in a messy bun and Steve is trying not to blatantly stare at the curve of his neck, the stray curls against his pale skin. Eddie's gesturing at something, says, "Can you grab those cords, swee--Steve?" He hands them over without thought, notices that Eddie's face is shining red. He's called away to deal with packing the guitars, forgets all about it, but at their next show, Eddie doesn't kiss him.

They don't talk about it.

Eddie doesn't try to kiss him again.

A week after Eddie stops the kiss, they have a night off between shows. He needs to get out of his head, goes out with Robin. He gets back fairly early, but all the lights are off in the bus. It makes him panic in a way it shouldn't; they've always done their own things. Still, he rushes on board, flips on the lights, his absurd heart beating too hard.

Eddie is curled up on the couch, face pressed to the pillows and covered with his hands. The panic kicks up a notch.

"Eddie?" He steps closer, slowly reaching out to grip Eddie's shoulder.

He jerks upright, earbuds slipping free, phone sliding down his hip. "Steve?"

His face is wet, tears actively slipping free from his eyes as Steve watches.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" His hands flutter around Eddie's arms and face, searching for bruises or wounds.

"I'm fine, Harrington," he chokes out. "Though you were out with Robin?"

"Yeah, I was, but Chrissy called. You know how useless she gets. But that doesn't--you--you're crying. What's wrong?"

Eddie's smile is a wobbly little thing, refusing to stick on his face. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fell for the wrong guy."

Steve forces down the gut churning hurt at hearing that Eddie's in love with someone, intent on comforting his friend. He tries to slip his arm around Eddie's shoulders, but Eddie shrugs him off. It jostles Eddie's phone again, slipping it toward Steve and activating the screen. He has a split second where he's looking at the cover of his own first album, before Eddie's snatching it out of reach, scrambling up from the couch.

"I'm fine." He swipes his sleeve over his face. "It's nothing."

And Steve is putting it all together, the being in love and listening to Steve's music, the kissing and how it ended.--

"Eddie." He sounds all wrong, choked and garbled.

Eddie doesn't turn around, is stuffing his feet into his boots. "I'm--I gotta go clear my head."

He walks towards the door and Steve just--"I've been obsessed with you since the first kiss," he says. Eddie stops, hand curled against the door. "We've been friends all this time and I didn't--I never realized. And then we kissed and--it's all I've been able to think about."

Eddie turns then, facing him, expression unreadable."Steve, what are you--"

"I love you. I'm in love with you." It comes out fast, all jumbled, but he can't stand Eddie leaving, not now.

"You--?" Eddie blinks, bites his lip. "That's not possible."

Steve smiles, can't help it. "It is, though. Turns out, I can't get enough."

Their eyes lock; neither speaks. Steve's heart pounds so hard it might spring free of his chest. Eddie moves first, crosses the small distance between them to pull Steve into his arms.

It's not a kiss, but Steve buries his face against Eddie's neck, breathing him in, feeling the echo to the pound of his own heart. "How long?" Steve asks.

Eddie's soft laugh vibrates through him. "Since I saw you walking in that garden and thought, 'jesus christ, Prince Charming is real'."

Steve pulls away to stare at Eddie in disbelief. "But that's--your--the song?"

"They're kinda all about you, Stevie. But that one most of all." Eddie whispers. His eyes glisten.

"Fuck, Eddie." He doesn't mean to whine, but he's not in control of his voice anymore. "I'm sorry I didn't--" He shakes his head. "I'm all yours, Ed. Whatever you want."

Eddie's thumb catches against Steve's bottom lips, eyes transfixed on his mouth. "Everything, sweetheart. I want it all."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #bandmates steve and eddie #musician au #fluff #angst #eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington #oblivious steve harrington #eventual mutual pining #kissing on stage #it's a joke. until it isn't #this is because boygenius won a bunch of grammys #all award shows are fake and the grammys are the most fake of all but still #if the tour bus is rockin' etc etc etc #grey goose got your girl feeling loose

[bokuroskitten]

Morning Bliss

⇴Summary: You wake up early on a Saturday, with an itch only Bokuto and Kuroo can reach. ⇴Genre: NSFW 18+ (although this is very soft) ⇴warnings: Ploy relationships, Ddlg dynamics (Daddy and Papa titles used), making out, eating out (female receiving) praise. ⇴Character(s): Bokuto Koutarou x Kuroo Tetsurō x Fem!Reader ⇴Word Count: 1.6k

You had surprised yourself when you woke up early on a Saturday, soft pants leaving your lips and body covered in a layer of light sweat. You groaned softly, thighs instantly clenching together as memories of your dream came rushing back to your brain.

You had been in between your boyfriends, their mouths spilling devious words as they railed you into oblivion. 

You usually didn’t have such naughty dreams, considering your partners were plenty good at completing your fantasies while you were awake. This one had taken you by surprise, leaving goosebumps on your flesh and your cheeks heated up to the point of discomfort.

You opened your eyes only a bit, squinting them as the rising sun poked through the bottom of the curtain. You knew it was early, but that aching feeling in your core just wouldn’t go away. Your eyes first landed on Kuroo, who was turned away from you, back muscles loose as he breathed deeply into his pillow. You were about to reach for him, gently brush your palm along his spine.

Until you felt Bokuto’s arm slither over your waist. He was the biggest cuddler out of the three of you, usually staying close to you all night long. In your sleepy state you didn’t even realize he was still pressed close to you, his forearm resting over your tummy.

You sighed softly, slowly turning your body towards him. “Bo...” you mumbled ever so softly, your palm smoothing down his thick arm toward his hand, giving it a little squeeze. “Bo...~”

The grey haired male let out a soft grunt, reacting almost instantly to your movement as his fingers twitched, slowly following your hand which led his own to the swell of your rear. “What’s the matter Birdy...” he responded in a whisper, his eyes staying closed even as you pressed towards him.

You pressed a little kiss to the corner of his lips, a breathy little whine slipping past your lips that had his eyes fluttering open, brows furrowing. “What is it baba?”

“Kisses..” You murmured close to his lips, your hand sliding from his cheek to the back of his neck. “Kisses please...”

“Mm~” he hummed softly, eyes staying half lidded as a little smile came to his sleepy features. With his large palm tugging you closer by the rear, he felt the very subtle tremble of your thighs. “Needy birdy... C’mere.” He spoke as his lips pressed to yours finally, soft and gentle.

You sighed in content against his lips, the warmth of his body pulling you in even closer as the two of you pressed your lips together, everything a little soft and sleepy. His palm rubbed small circles over your ass, squeezing the skin ever so softly to earn pleased little mewls. Your fingers brushed the back of Bokuto’s neck, crawling into his hair and tugging on it ever so softly.

“More bo.. please.” You spoke against his lip, lazily biting on his lower lip to have goose bumps rising on his skin. He gave a soft grunt in response, his tongue easily slipping past your lips to please your desires. He explored your mouth despite his tired state, his palm slipping from your rear and squeezing along your thighs which were currently clenched together desperately. “Relax baby..” he breathed over your lips, palming the back of your head. “I’ve got you...”

“What’s got you two going so early...”

Kuroo’s voice was deep with sleep, a yawn following suit as the bed creaked, dipped a bit on his side. The black haired male rubbed the back of his palm over his eyes before propping himself on his elbow, crazy hair crazier than usual from the deep sleep.

He saw the way you curled into Bokuto, the way their lips pressed to one another and the pretty blush that seemed to travel over your cheeks and down your neck. A little grin curled on his tired lips, his palm slipping over your thigh to feel right between.

Right in your heat, where your panties were still dampened and your skin still warm from the dream.

“Mmm... need some attention kitty.” He purred slow, scooting himself closer as you huffed against Bokuto’s lips, your eyes fluttering as a chill ran up your spine.

“Please... please Tetsu..” you whispered, your eyes locked onto Bokuto’s as he brought his hand under your sleep shirt, pushed you gently so you would lay on your back instead.

“Does she have a wet little cunnie ‘Ro?” Bokuto mused, his palm squeezing your waist as he stamped the column of your throat with wet smooches. Your eyes continued to flutter, your thighs easily flopping open wide to beckon Kuroo between them. He happily took the invitation, lazily running his nose along your damp panties to take in your scent. “Oh yea babe... did you have a naughty dream or something kitty? You’re dripping.”

He was mouthing at your panties now, his gravity defying hair tickling your sensitive flesh and having you whining a bit. “Mhm, Need you guys... havfta come.” You breathed out in a small whine, your hand clutching tighter at the short locks on the back of Bokuto’s neck as you beckoned him back up for kisses.

“We’ve got you kitten.” Kuroo reassured, sighing softly before he brought his hands to the waist band of your panties, easily slipping the wet fabric off your legs. Bokuto hummed in response, moulding his lips back onto yours in order to aid in satisfying your needs. Kuroo kept his eyes half lidded, gazing up at his partners every now and then as he dipped between your thighs, pressing his tongue flat against your folds.

He gave soft and long kitten licks along you, lazy little stripes that always ended with either the tip of his tongue teasing your clit, or his lips kissing it in a soft smooch. Either way the actions had you mewling into Bokuto’s lips, your hips rolling ever so slowly toward Kuroo’s face.

“That’s it birdy...~” Bokuto encouraged, smoothing his thumb over your swollen lower lip as he watched the way your body slowly loosened up, trembles starting in your core and working their way into your thighs. He kissed your forehead, cheeks, nose, all while you moaned around his thumb, suckling it between your lips as your free hand went down to grip Kuroo’s hair.

He hummed at such an action, gripping your trembling thighs a bit tighter as his tongue spilt open your folds, teased at your hole that clamped desperately at nothing. Kuroo could already tell you were close to coming undone, but he still drew out your pleasure, enjoying your sleepy moans and taste.

Kuroo’s tongue pressed a little more pressure against your entrance, having your lips fall open in a high pitched little squeal that had both boys groaning in delight. “Come nice and pretty for Daddy baby...” Bokuto encouraged, his hand sliding from your face down your body until he felt the tips of Kuroo’s hair. He then pressed his fingers against your clit, having your back arch ever so slightly and hips pressing forward.

Kuroo muffled into your skin, wanting nothing more than to keep his lips latched tight to your sopping entrance as you came nearer to your end. He kept his eyes glued on your face, watching the way a little droplet of drool slipped from the corner of your mouth.

As Bokuto pressed down on your throbbing clit again, along with Kuroo’s tongue drawing dizzying circles on your core the knot in your stomach got too tight. You whined, nails leaving little red marks in Bokuto’s skin. “G-gunna come Bo... gunna come Papa.”

“Good girl baba. come right in Daddy’s mouth.” Bokuto praised in return, pressing his forehead to your own as you let out a little cry. It signalled your release, a little flood of fluids soaking Kuroo’s lips. He happily lapped you up, hands gripping your trembling thighs closer to his face as you rode along his lips, rode out the high of your orgasm. Meanwhile Bokuto brushed his lips ever so softly along your face, continuing to murmur praises as his fingers slowly drew circles into your clit.

As your breaths slowly evened out you fluttered your damp lashes open, meeting Bokuto’s tired gaze and lazy smile. You couldn’t help up return it, pressing your swollen lips gently to his cheek. Kuroo rose then, sheen still shiny on his chin as he licked along his lower lip. “How you feeling baby?”

“Amazing” you murmured, holding out a hand to beckon Kuroo back up. He snickered softly, making sure to pull your shirt low again to cover your still trembling thighs before rising from between your legs he made his way back to his partners, already feeling one of Bokuto’s large palms on his waist as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Thank you...” you spoke, ecstasy and sleep still laced in your tone as your eyes got heavy again, your head lulling towards Bokuto’s chest. Kuroo too let out a little yawn, tucking his own face into the crock of your neck. “Of course Kitten.”

“Anything for you baba...” Bokuto reassured, smiling softly at his partners as they already began to doze back off into one other. His arm was long enough to lay across the both of them, his palm smoothing over Kuroo’s waist as he whispered against your cheek, settling in beside them.

“Let’s sleep a little longer... love you guys.”

“Love you...” was repeated by both them, voices laced with sleep as you all curled within one another for a morning full of restful sleep.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu smut #hq fanfic #haikyuu hq #hq smut #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto smut #bokuto x you #bokuto x y/n #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #bokuroo #bokuroo x reader #bokuto x kuroo x reader #bokuroo smut

[bestofmidi]

Grey Goose got your girl feeling loose Now I'm wishing that I didn't wear these shoes (I hate heels) It's like every time I get up on the dude Paparazzi put my business in the news And I'm like, get up out my face (Oh, shit!) Before I turn around and spray your ass with mace (Oh, shit!) My lips make you wanna have a taste (Oh, shit!) You got that... I got the bass

original midi at http://sng.nu/midi/369530.mid

#midi #best of midi #fergie #london bridge #The Dutchess #fishmech #2006

[whatmack]

Dan was only three drinks in when she said, “I haven’t kissed a girl since fifth grade.” Allison, who was considerably deeper into her fifth of Grey Goose, shook her head and waggled a finger in Dan’s direction. “That’s not true. You told me all of your stage sisters--” “But that’s for a sho-ow,” Dan said, wrinkling her nose as she drew the last word out. The zig-zag of freckles there folded like a drawstring waistband, and Renee was simultaneously too sober for this conversation and glad that she didn’t drink anymore. “It didn’t mean anything.” Allison rolled her eyes at Renee. Renee smiled, and hoped it didn’t look as sickly as it felt on her face. If it did, Allison didn’t comment on it. “She’s the prude-iest stripper I’ve ever met,” Allison said in an easily overhearable whisper. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just mouths. Just bodies. Oh sorry, does that offend Jesus?”

“No,” Renee managed. She took a sip of her un-spiked soda to wet her throat. The artificial orange sweetness shocked across her tongue, the flavor loud, unsubtle. The exact opposite of who Renee was trying to be. She tucked her skirt more firmly over her knees. “Not for me,” Dan protested. “I mean, yeah. But there’s a kiss and there’s a kiss. Her name was Abby. I liked her because she gave me her favorite pokemon card. It was Vulpix. So.” 

Dan’s thumb and forefinger were passing back and forth over her mouth, thoughtfully. Her other hand was still in Allison’s grasp as she applied the top coat of polish, but the blue on the fingernails near Dan’s face were an electric contrast to the brown fullness of Dan’s bottom lip. The cupid’s bow above was perfectly shaped. Renee hadn’t noticed before how much it looked like it belonged in a magazine. Good girl, be a good girl, you’re a good girl, Renee thought with an edge of hysteria. “Abby? Like our Abby? Ewwww,” Allison said, gagging through a laugh. She rocked forward and hit Dan in the arm. “Okay, you’ve got to do better now that I know that. I can hook you up.” She arched a suggestive eyebrow, which was actually quite cruel of her. Renee was already emotionally compromised. “Eh. I don’t have time for dating.” “I didn’t mean dating. I mean getting you some pussy, girl.” “Allison!” Now they were both laughing, swatting at each other with floppy hands. Allison shrieked for the integrity of Dan’s still-drying nail polish and tackled Dan to the floor.  “We’ll start you slow, I got you, come on. Just a little kiss? Just a little girl smooch?” Allison smacked her lips obnoxiously near Dan’s ear.  “I spent like thirty minutes doing your lipstick, no way!” Dan wiggled to throw Allison off her, and Allison let her up-- only to grab her again around the waist from behind and set loose another squeal of giggles. “Off! Off! Renee help!” There was a fuzzy static feeling in Renee’s stomach, climbing up through her chest. It felt wonderful; it felt like flying; it felt like maybe she was about to fall off a cliff. She got to her knees and crawled across the floor to try to grab Allison’s wrists. “Now, children,” she said, adopting the voice of a dissappointed schoolteacher, “we don’t fight each other to solve our arguments.” “We do in Exy!” Allison whooped and let Renee pull Dan free. Dan immediately latched her arms around Renee’s neck, climbing into her lap. The fuzzy freefall feeling had spread to Renee’s head. She found herself giggling as well, and couldn’t seem to stop it. Dan was very, very warm, and very, very pressed all against her. To prove that she was some sort of trickster demon sent to overturn Renee’s good intentions, Allison clapped her hands in delight. “Now’s your chance, Dannie! Kiss for the heroic rescuer!” Renee felt her eyes go wide. She glanced frantically at Allison over Dan’s shoulder. Dan was going to know. Allison grinned and toasted Renee with her Goose.  Maybe Renee could stop being a good person for one night. One murder wasn’t all that bad, right? The problem with having lived her life-- Renee’s-- was that she was absolutely sure it wasn’t going to happen. She could feel Dan’s puffed breath on her cheek, and she had the painfully physical weight of Dan under her hands as Dan squirmed around to keep her balance. This was a ridiculous situation, right out of one of the movies Stephanie liked to watch, and Renee knew like she knew the feel of an old shoe that this would end with nothing more than a laughing attempt to detangle. She should ask Dan if she needed to drink some water, Renee thought, as Dan’s face got closer. She opened her mouth, and, And, And? As kisses went, it was...wet. Renee frowned, not entirely sure what she was feeling. Her brain did not seem to be inhabiting the same space as her body. Dan’s hitching laughter spilled out over Renee’s collarbone as Dan slumped down to bury her face there. “Terrible,” Allison said, swallowing another sizeable measure from her bottle. She fell to her hands and knees and crawled forward. “Da-an, watch, look.” What? Oh. Dan really had put a lot of lipstick on Allison, Renee thought, and then Allison sucked at Renee’s lower lip, just a little, and it turned out Renee’s brain was in her body because it was leaking out her ears. I think I’m dead, Renee thought, and then felt the buzz behind her teeth that let her know the words had slipped out into the air where other people could hear them. Allison looked shocked for a moment, and then amused. Dan blew a raspberry against Renee’s shirt. “Outside judge says that’s a no for you too, Allie.” “No, I mean, no, it was-- they were fine,” Renee said. Her throat felt like it was sticking together. Her face was so warm she wondered if her head might pop off and go drifting about near the ceiling lamp, to fizzle out there like the dead bugs.  Allison put a hand to her chest, remembering a second later to gasp. “Fine, did you hear that? For shame.” Dan snorted. She was latched on to Renee’s shirt with a powerful strength. “Just wait until we’re sober like you, Miss Renee Walker. Then we’ll show you.” “Ah,” Renee said faintly. “Well then.”

#all for the game #the foxhole court #danrenee #renison #alcohol // #this is just a romcom trope about the girls getting drunk and kissing renee!!!! it's as she deserves!!!! #so many kisses from women!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #my fics #whatmack u have so many messages in ur inbox. whatmack answer them #whatmack stop blowing a raspberry at your computer screen #dan is also very good at kissing usually she's just sozzled #they were VERY strong drinks. allison mixed them

[milkkygirls]

grease and grime. (sam winchester.)

request: Could you do a Sam Winchester fic when he’s in college? Like he went to college in Kansas and he works as a mechanic for his dad. The reader and Sam have been dating for years and One day the reader brings her car there to be repaired and her and Sam have like sexy, car greasy, sex on the work bench after hours or something like that? from: @thatsabummer02

warnings: female!reader, smut (oral m!recieving, penetration.) some dirty talk, language, me knowing absolutely nothing about cars to accurately talk about what’s going on before the ~smut~

word count: 1.6k

*gif is not mine, but edited by me*

SPRING BREAK, THE TIME OF YEAR WHERE STUDENTS ARE FREE FROM THEIR HELLISH STUDIES AND LET LOOSE. But here you were, stuck in a Lawrence, Kansas at you parents house with you piece of crap yellow Pinto that was at least a thousand years old. You came back from college for the week with your boyfriend, Sam, whom you’ve been dating since your freshman year of high school. You figured that since his dad and older brother were the way they were, your dear lover was probably trapped inside his father’s mechanic shop.

You wanted to drop by and visit, maybe even get your shitty car fixed for once. Sam was a law student just like you, but he sure did know a thing or two about vehicles. So with the screech of your tire and the boom of the exhaust you drove your squeaky and unpredictable car to the shop, only seeing one car in the lot: Sam’s. You pulled out your cellphone, dialing the number of your beloved and held the phone up to your ear, after four dial tones it answered.

“Hello? [Y/N]?” You heard him ask from the other end, the sound of machinery nearly muffling him. “Baby? I can barely hear you!” You yelled into the phone, covering your free ear until the sound of the machinery shut off. You sighed with relief. “Come outside.” You simply said, hanging up the phone before he could answer. You leaned against the Pinto patiently waiting, hearing as the mechanic garage’s panel door slid up, revealing the sweaty and grease covered body of your boyfriend clad in a tank top and blue jeans. Truly a sight to behold. Although he was absolutely filthy, you’d be lying if you said seeing him like that didn’t make warmth pool in your panties.

Sam came striding over, squinting to see, he smiled as he grew closer, nearly picking you up completely to kiss you. You pulled your sunglasses off to cut the interference between your eager kiss. Sam set you down, resting a hand on the roof of the car, towering over it. “What’s wrong with it now?” He questioned.

You sighed, crossing your arms, pushing up your breasts in your low-cut T-shirt in the process (something that didn’t go unnoticed by him). “Same as always.”

He nodded, doing his best to play off the blush on his cheeks to the heat, “Steer it on it, i’ll do what I can. But Dad or Dean will have to fix it.”

You gave him a motion with your hand as to say Roger That! And turned the Pinto back on cringing at the squeak it made when you pressed on the brakes as you drove it into the shop. You watched as the car’s hood was lifted, steam nearly choking the both of you.

Sam grabbed a rag, wiping away built up grease on parts of the car you couldn’t even begin to name; thank god for a mechanic savvy boyfriend. But one thing you noticed was how muscular Sam had gotten since spring break started, I mean, his back muscles were bulging out of his tank top with the slightest of movements. “Your engine’s busted, Babe.” He informed, wiping his hand on his forehead, smearing black oil on his skin.

You giggled, using your thumb to help wipe it away, standing on your tippy toes to reach the gentle giant. “This is nice.” You said, Sam raising an eyebrow, “Being stuck in a hot shop all day?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “No, dummy. Spending time together. We hardly get to do it because of college, but now you’re stuck here all day. I miss spending time with you.” You frowned at the last part, pulling him towards you and resting your head on his chest, listening to the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I know you’re trying to be sentimental, but I really miss the sex.” He sighed. He had a point, back at college when you two were stressed you let it all out, taking your stress and turning it into bliss. You looked up at him, resting your chin on his body, “Who says we still can’t have sex without the stress of exams.. I mean, I don’t see anyone around.” You smirked.

Sam cleared his throat, “You want to fuck in a mechanics garage?”

“Why not?”

“First of all, I’m disgusting, look at me.”

You bit your lip, trailing your fingers up and down his back, sending chills down his spine, “It’s kinda hot, Sammy. Why not get down and dirty while you’re literally dirty?”

Sam leaned down, capturing your lips, holding your face within his hands, “You’re a force to be reckoned with, woman.” You giggled once more, pulling him by his shirt to the bench in the corner, pushing him down and climbing on his lap. You kissed him hungrily, almost kneading on his abdomen, nibbling at his bottom lip.

“You’re so eager babygirl..” He breathed hands moving up to cup your breasts. “I missed you..” I was pathetic to you, how easily you were putty in Sam’s hands, how just with a couple of sly looks and you’d answer his every command. You found yourself instinctively grinding yourself against his hardening bulge, mewling out when your already sensitive core made contact from under your skirt.

Sam grabbed your face, not enough to hurt you, but enough to get you to look at him, oh how those hazel eyes swirled and danced with lust, “What else did you miss?”

You moaned when his hand met with your clothed core, pressing down on your clit. “Y-Your cock..” You admitted, feeling yourself getting wetter when he smirked, removing his hand from your pussy. “Show me how much you missed my cock then.”

You gave him a quick peck on the lips, removing yourself from his lap to sit on your knees, ignoring the pain from sitting directly on hard concrete floor. You raked your nails along his jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them down his legs. You teasingly dragged a finger along his inner thighs, close to the bulge being constricted hy the grey boxers her wore. He shuddered at the feeling, at the feeling of having your hands and mouth so close to his cock but not doing anything.

He enjoyed it when you teased him though, making him more ready to fill you up to the brim. You kissed up his thighs, your mouth hoovering over his hard member, kissing it through his boxers. He groaned out, holding tightly onto the bench until his knuckles turned white. You smiled up at him, batting your long eyelashes until you hooked your index finger onto the elastic of the boxers, slowly pulling them down. The constricted and very hard member sprang free, slapping on the side of your cheek. You admired the way Sam looked from this point of view. His adam’s apple bobbing, muscles tensed, the veins under his well groomed happy trail throbbing. You grabbed his dick gently, slowly pumping your hand up his shaft. Sam closed his eyes, feeling the pleasure he had missed since spring break started.

You kissed the head, then licked a long stride up and giggling when Sam’s hand grabbed your hair, tugging at it. You knew you shouldn’t tease him any longer and give him what he wanted, he deserved it after all. You slipped his head into your mouth, rolling your tongue around it in a way that made him writhe, looking him in the eyes as you almost swallowed him whole, pumping your hand up and down to spread the warmth of your mouth that kissed his skin.

His head fell back, a guttural moan following its wake as he tugged harder on your hair, causing you to groan, the vibrations sending a delicious sensation straight to his dick. You continued to lick and suck, doing all the things you knew drove him crazy until he released in your mouth, seed oozing from the sides of your mouth.

You swallowed, wiping your cheeks with your thumb before popping it back in your mouth to swallow each and every drop of him. You crawled back on his lap, “Such a good girl, taking my cum like that, so hot.” You kissed him, him being the eager one this time.

Sam hiked your skirt up, the fabric bunching up around your abdomen. “You ready to take me?”

You nodded quickly, moving your lacy-white panties to the side, revealing your glistening cunt in the fluorescent light of the shop. He groaned at the sight of you, moving your hips to line up with him, sliding his head up and down your folds to gather the wetness before he pushed into you, eliciting the most dirty, borderline pornographic moan he’d ever heard come from that pretty little mouth of yours.

You adjusted to his size, almost crying out when he twitched inside you, moving yourself against him. You were both sweating, the wet sounds of him pushing in and out of you and the slapping of your ass on his thighs was absolute paradise. You rested your forehead against Sam’s, moaning out his name as you got closer, feeling the familiar sensation at the pit of your stomach every time he hit your g-spot. That sensation, the butterflies, the special flutter was worth it when you released messily on him, Sam finishing not long after you.

He pulled out, pulling you towards him in his lap, petting the hair that rested on your back and ignoring the goose skin he got from you kissing his neck. Sam had missed this, and so had you. And just maybe spring break wasn’t so boring after all.

—

author’s note; sorry it took so long babes!

#sam winchester x you #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam girl #sam winchester smut #supernatural #supernatural smut #supernatural imagines #supernatural x reader #spn imagines #spn smut #spn

[mithrilwren]

your dust from mine

For Fjorclay Week, Day 3: Fairytales/Mythology

Summary: Fjord was born to more than a servant’s life, but doesn’t know it. Prince Caduceus is betrothed to a man, but the wrong one. A tale of mistaken identities, fairytale foolery, and the power of true love’s kiss.

Or, welcome to what I’ve spent the last two weeks working on! This is a loose adaption of my favourite fairytale, The Goose Girl, with some decidedly CR/Fjorclay twists. It’ll be around 8-9 chapters total, and I’ve got 4 written so far, so hopefully updates shouldn’t take too long! For the moment, here’s the first chapter :)

(cw. child neglect, murder most foul - it is a fairytale, after all!)

[Also on Ao3! (Subscribe there for updates!)]

Chapter 1 - Gemels (The Room)

Fjord’s first memories are of darkness.

There are few lights in his world. A little window, with the shutters drawn by day. A candle at his bedside, always left burning, but no books to read by its sputtering flame. A pale globe, and two green orbs sunken within, who he comes to call ‘Nurse’ when he is old enough to speak.

Fjord learns all other words slowly, with no one there to teach him.

What bright moments he has, they are all surrounding Sabian. He is the only spot of colour in Fjord’s grey life - clad in blues and greens, and ever on Nurse’s hip. He is ‘loved’ by her, though that word is one of the last to enter his vocabulary. The first time Nurse speaks it, her hands are holding a different child, but her eyes are on him.

“You are loved, Sabian,” she murmurs into chestnut curls, and from her eyes he learns the meaning of rejection. “Never forget that,” and he learns the meaning of bitterness. “You deserve the world,” and he learns the meaning of hatred.

During the quietest nights, he drags his stool over to the window and presses his nose to the bottom of the glass, peering out between the slats into the unknown realm beyond. He sees strange things - tall pillars with rustling, flat-fronded garb, grey waves rolling onto an empty expanse of jagged cliffs. He brings the candlestick with him, but the light can’t reach far enough to show him the colours of all the shapes he sees. Still, he stands there on tiptoe, night after night, watching moonlight crest the peaks of white-capped swells, and wondering if there will come an age when Nurse will hoist him on her hip like Sabian, and carry him out into the world beyond his room.

---

The queen died in childbirth, or so they say. The child that killed her was sickly and weak, and needed to be sequestered away from the world for his own health. That, too, is part of the tale: the one that keeps the rabble of Port Damali from clamouring at the door to the castle keep, asking where their newborn heir might be.

The king now rules from a dais of one throne, draped in the same crimson as the blood that enrobed his milky hands as he brought the knife to his wife’s throat. She was as fair as he, while she lived, but all the red in the world could not disguise the colour of her child’s skin when he emerged from her body. All forest green, boisterous and strong. The baby’s cry mocked him for being heartier than his own.

He could not abide an adulteress to share his bed, no more than he would not suffer another man’s child to sit on his throne.

He locked the child away, and prayed nightly for a solution to his troubles.

Another child was born in the castle, eight months before the queen died in childbirth (so they say, so they-) and his mother, a servant, was still with milk when the queen died. Having no true mother to nurse him, the unwanted prince was given to the servant to raise. This she did, in the strictest sense, but she had no love left in her for anything but her own son. It infuriated her to her very core, that her child would live and die in poverty and servitude, while she was meant to give up her own son’s raising for the sake of a half-breed bastard: this hideous boy, who born to any other family would have been left at the orphanage to rot with all the other driftwood strays. The resentment poisoned her heart, day by day.

The years passed, and what excuse could the king offer, that the child had not yet been seen? The people said he did not speak his name out of grief for the mother who gave it, but the whole kingdom ached for their promised prince. He could deny them much longer. At last, the king went to his trusted advisors, and asked what he should do.

“Find a younger wife, who will bear you a new son,” one said, but the king was weary of women, who would only betray his trust. “Say the boy died, and name a new heir,” said another, but if the son dies, so does his family name, and his legacy too. “Claim him,” said the third, “and let the people decide if they will accept a bastard prince or not.”

It was an intolerable suggestion, but what else was there to do?

The king went that night to the child’s bedroom, and laid eyes upon his not-child for the first time in five years. The boy was sleeping with one chubby finger in his mouth, suckling softly at the pale imitation of a mother’s sustainance.

He had hoped that the years would have softened his anger, enough to bear the indignity of what was required of him, but the fires only mounted as he looked upon the boy’s green skin, the beginnings of tusks caging the child’s thumb.

From behind, stealing from her silent vigil to the king’s side, the wetnurse crept up.

“I have a son,” she murmured in the king’s ear. “Around the same age. Nobody outside this keep knows his face.” He frowned, wrinkles deepening with each treacherous word she spoke. “My Sabian is a smart boy, unlike this dull one. He barely knows his letters, even at this age. But Sabian, I can make him understand.”

“Understand what?” the king growled, offended by her impertinence. She did not flinch back from his rising anger.

“His duty.” She ducked her head into a modest bow. “I only ask, in exchange for my son, that you raise him as your own, and cast this one aside.”

The king scoffed, then stalked off, furious at the woman’s presumption. To replace one man’s bastard with another… that was no solution at all.

But as he slept that night, he dreamt many frightful dreams: of orcish hordes on his doorstep, and an empty future, and his name crumbled along with his castle into the surf. Then he dreamt something sweeter: of another child, with his own fair skin, riding proudly on horseback through the wide streets of Port Damali.

It was no solution, but it was better than nothing at all.

When he awoke at last, he called the wetnurse to his bedchamber.

“The child will be mine, and mine alone,” he declared, as though the idea was his own. “You may instruct him, but he will be my son. My claim over him will be absolute, from this day forward.”

“I understand,” said the nurse.

So nothing has changed, she thought.

They shook hands, and that was the last time they spoke of the matter.

---

Sabian has been gone a week, and Fjord misses him dearly. He begs Nurse to tell him when his friend will return, and she smiles - a first, directed towards him - and says that he needn’t wait long. That soon, he will be leaving this place, and to think on that instead.

Any thoughts of Sabian’s absence flee Fjord’s mind. There’s no room for them amidst the excitement that keeps him up to all hours, bouncing between the window and the bed, until the tallow of his candlestick runs low and he’s forced to sit as still as he can in the darkness. No one has been in to replace it in days, but he doesn’t think much of that either: a small aberration, in a rapidly shifting world of possibilities.

There are leaves - leaves, he knows the word now - bending towards his window, and he will see them, and touch them, and the water too. Fjord wonders what it will feel like, to slip his feet into the ocean for the first time. Will it be like the copper-bottom bath, slippery and cold, or warm like the stone floor of his bedroom on the longest days of summer, when sunlight slips between the slats and leaves patches of heat in little rows? There are so many things to look forward to, so many questions, and answers within his grasp.

When Nurse returns, she hands him new clothes. Fjord wrinkles his nose at the fabric. They’re scratchy, and smell strange, and he misses the loose cotton of his pajamas the moment he pulls them over his head. One small hand nearly goes through a hole at the elbow, and he frowns all the more.

“Why can’t I wear my clothes?” he whines.

“Hush up,” Nurse snaps, and the cuff to his ear is so unexpected it nearly brings him to tears. Fjord clutches his hands to the side of his head, not understanding, as she grabs him by the forearm and pulls him out the door.

They’re walking so fast that he can’t even stop to say hello to the tree outside his window, or stare for longer than a moment at the sea, bright and gleaming in the cold morning air. But if he walks fast enough, Nurse doesn’t pull so hard on his arm, so Fjord bounds along at her back, working as hard as he can to keep pace with her heavy stride.

There are no other travellers in the hallways, but a clamour is happening somewhere outside the walls - many voices raised all together, and the hurt and confusion he felt about his still smarting ear fades away as they start to angle in the direction of the sound. People, he thinks joyously, I’m going to meet people.

The first sight of the blue sky, unshuttered at last, takes his breath away. Though Nurse pulls and pulls at his arm, he cannot be moved from his open-mouthed awe, frozen on the stone steps of the castle keep. Everything is so colourful. He looks down at his own skin, and sees for the first time its shade reflected in the ground beneath his feet, and in the oaks that grow mightily along the ramparts. He pulls himself from Nurse’s grasp and falls to his knees in the dirt, running his hands over the verdant shades of grass, and laughing in delight at the way the blades tickle his palms. It seems, in that moment, that they’re greeting him, and he says hello back, in a quiet voice that no one else can hear.

Nurse doesn’t tell him to wipe off his dusty knees, but she does take his hand again, and leads him on, towards the voices beyond the wall.

He didn’t know there were so many faces in the world - of  all shapes, all pallors, and Fjord longs to run through the crowd and say hello to every person he sees. He cares little for the ceremony on the raised wooden platform, too fascinated by the crowd that watches on. But as they pass by, nobody pays attention to Fjord. He tugs on one lady’s sleeve with his free hand and she looks down, but draws her arm back quickly as soon as she sets eyes on him, then turns to whisper to the man at her side. “Urchin,” he hears, and “green-blood” too, in the scant seconds before he’s dragged out of earshot. He knows the words in shape, but in context: not why they would be said with such contempt, or with such a fierce glare at his back.

The man she brings him to hangs at the back of the crowd - a rugged figure, with thin, sallow lips and the shadow of sinewy muscles beneath his clothes. “A charity case,” Nurse says, and shoves Fjord forward. “From the orphanage.”

Though he wanted desperately to meet new people only a moment ago, he doesn’t want to meet this man. His eyes aren’t kind, as they look him up and down. His sneer reminds Fjord of the wolves in the stories Sabian so loves, the ones that Fjord pretends to like because he doesn’t want Sabian to know he’s afraid: all yellowed, brittle teeth, hungry to tear errant shepherd boys apart. He shrinks back, more frightened now than he ever was of Sabian’s tales, but Nurse pushes him forward again, and he has no choice but to go where her hands direct.

“And what do you want me to do with him?”

“Whatever you see fit. I don’t care. Find a use for him.”

The man frowns, and he prods at Fjord’s chubby cheek with a dirty fingernail. Fjord forces himself to remain still. “He’s soft - not a day of work on him. What use have I got for a boy like that?”

“Put him to work, then, and the harder the better. Gods know he needs it, the trouble he’s given me...” Fjord opens his mouth to protest - he’s been good, he knows he has - but closes it again, fearing another cuff on the ear.

Hush up.

He’s trying.

“There’s always hard work that needs doing round here,” the man muses, and Nurse nods, relieved. A cheer erupts, rippling down from the dais to the back of the crowd, and her head whips towards the stage. Her eyes are shining, Fjord realizes, and he follows her gaze. He needs to squint to see it, but he can just barely make out a familiar face on the platform. His pale skin looks strange, painted in rouges, and set below a glittering crown, but he can still recognize his only friend.

“Finally getting to learn the prince’s name, huh? Did they really need to wait so long? Still, Sabian. Sounds strong enough. A royal name, if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Sabian,” Nurse breathes, and she is too slow to hide the tear that falls onto her cheek. She does not look back at the man, or Fjord, as she wanders away from them both. Fjord reaches out a hand towards her, but the man pulls him back, and his grip is stronger even than hers. He thinks now that this man is not so much a wolf, but a serpent. His long, thin fingers coil around Fjord’s forearm, and he is inescapably caught.

“Be careful of him. He’s a liar,” Nurse says dreamily over her shoulder, not truly looking back. “Don’t trust a thing he says.” Fjord is too afraid to speak a word in his own defence, though he’s not… he doesn’t think he is...

“They always are,” scoffs the man, then turns to Fjord. “Do you know who I am, boy?” Fjord shakes his head, eyes still following Nurse as she disappears into the throng of the crowd. “I’m the groundsmaster of this castle, and as long as you do exactly as I say, when I say it, we’ll have no trouble between the two of us. Do you understand me?” Fjord nods, biting his lip to keep it still. He can’t see Nurse anymore. “Hard workers earn their rewards, hmm? And poor workers, their punishments.” His fingers coil tighter, and Fjord flinches in his grasp. “Come on, boy, I know you’re no mute. What’s your name?”

“Fjord,” he says. It sounds strange to his ears - he’s not sure he’s ever spoken his own name aloud.

“That’s your common one. And your last?”

Fjord shrugs. He doesn’t know who gave him his common name, and doesn’t know if he has a last. It never mattered, before.

“Then I’ll give you one.” The man’s sneer grows wilder, vindictively pleased. “Your parents tossed you aside, and who can blame them?” He tweaks at the nub of Fjord’s tusk, and Fjord closes his lips, self-conscious, though he doesn’t know yet what he’s meant to be ashamed of. “A half-breed like you, and soft at that! But I think I can fashion you into something useful. Like the stone that holds the foundation, I’ll chip you down, until your shape is better suited to your position. How do you like that, boy? Shall I call you Fjord Stone?”

He shakes his head vigourously. All he’s known is stone: stone walls and stone floors, and a stone ceiling above his bed. He can name their exact count, all the stones that made up his world. He would rather be Fjord Tree, Fjord Sky, Fjord of the Sea that he’s longed so often to touch. Anything but Stone.

The man throws back his head and laughs, and the sound is as cold as winter. When the laugh dies away, his look is just as cold, with no trace of mirth in his eyes.

“You have spirit, Fjord Stone. I like that. But you will find that what I like more is obedience.” The hand on Fjord’s arm slithers up to his throat, pressing harder and harder, until he is gasping for air, and clawing at the calloused fingers with his nails. “I will ask you again. Do you like the name I gave you?”

Black spots dance in his vision, and he gasps out what he can, with what little breath remains.

“Yes,” Fjord whispers, and proves himself a liar after all.

#critical role #fjorclay #fjorclayweek2020 #fjord #fjorclay week #im not going to tag caduceus because he's not gonna show up for a few chapters ;) #god this has been SO much fun to work on #and im so excited to finally share it

[prune-life]

Patience, baby (Samuel Drake x Reader) One-shot

Please read the A/N so you won't be confused, thank you!

Tagging: thank you so so much @missdictatorme for wanting to be tagged in this monstrosity of an attempt of a fanfic

Warnings: Nothing, but the reader has a moment (But, Sammy to the rescue! (Yay!))

A/N: Okay, where to begin? lmao I initially wanted this to be a 1920s AU but it got mixed in with a lot of my ideas so, just take it with a grain of that 100 years old, 20s-70s salt. All the flapper slang will be under the fanfic! Also hi hello hi this is my first time writing a Sam fic and I was disappointed when reading this crap, but I do hope you'll enjoy it nevertheless haha. Thank you for reading! (Also, Sully is a bartender, hope you like it!) Also, also, sorry for any grammatical errors!

✧*。 ✧*。

A suggestive tone picked up when you entered the many familiar rooms within the of yore building. It was no grand, simply striding between the many alleys and rat holes which imitated a classic neighbourhood, including the rats within - the people - giving it an excellent vibe of life and long driven days with thrill and fun.

Despite the early-late chatter and noises that eluded out of the nifty house, it never ceased its lively, but overly relaxing atmospheres.

That is, after all, what you came for.

Artie Shaw's clarinet waltzed, his music coming out of a crooky gramophone near the corner of the counter, where stood the man that you’ve been meeting almost the whole week until now, this glamorous week being more than welcoming to the many ideas and opportunities you’ve been met with. Today was, to your own anticipation, hopefully the same day as the others have been.

“Hell-o, darling. When did you get here?” the hair greying man greeted out of nowhere once you stood infront of his wooden counter, a cigar hanging from the side of his mouth, his frame sporting a white button-up, complimented by a typical black vest with - what appeared to be under the everlasting, golden dim of light – an embroidered rose with a story tale red down the sides of his torso.

His grim hands worked themselves on a glimmering piece of glass, which even from your own position, smelled of the nectar called alcohol.

“Just now, all these nights have me feeling like a lonely dud.” You sighed, slumping your shoulders, the black, thick coat which kept you warm throughout all these nights revealing a white fuzz from the inside. You slipped it off to the crook of your elbow and reached the stool you’ve placed yourself yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that. “What about you, Victor? Still have that cuddle-cootie slat biting on your ankles?”

Sully stopped in his tracks, rising an eyebrow at you curiously, before exhaling, a smile tugging on the corners of his smoky lips. He set down the freshly washed and wiped glass infront of you and turned himself around, reaching for the drink of runny rum, which had the nickname of your 'usual'.

“I believe they had a wonderful... Night. Together.” His gruff voice directed towards you, and he tilted the bottle forward. "Elena is quite the catch, Nate's doing well for himself."

You put your palm onto the ring of the cup, giving him a subtle smile, and he halted.

“Not today.”

Sullivan’s arm spread wide and he slightly bowed, turning around, setting the glass up on its mighty spot, “What will it be, then?”

“Just juice will do,” you whispered, looking around the bar, before giving him a twinkling wink, “only for tonight.”

You continued after he popped open a boring bottle of fruit juice, setting it infront of you like it’s the holy essence itself.

“I’d think that Elena would know better than to... Get it on with a forty-niner,” you took a short sip from the bottle, quickly putting it down, “no offense.”

“Don’t say that to me,” he chuckled, “feathers is much obliged, they might've had a couple too many drinks than was planned,” Sullivan sent you an amiable grin, before you turned around and stood on your feet.

“Going to test your skill on billiards?” he questioned from behind you, tapping his finger on the side of the juice jar.

“As if I ever will,” you smiled back at him from behind your naked shoulder, the pearl necklace hugging your neck tight shifting, “I’d much rather keep it calm this time, had a stressful day.”

“Want to talk about it?” Sully offered.

“Nah, I’m alright,” you sighed, but looked forward and began step-stepping away form the busy man.

Victor exclaimed after you through the loud musica, “No hesitation to talk to me, sugar!”

You smiled to yourself.

I know.

✧*。 ✧*。 ✧*。

A tiny tinkle rung above your head, your shoulders immediately getting the breeze of cold air from the closest window, hair bobbing with the silent wind. Music played, this time in a hum, the people around the table eager and keen, some of them hanging by big cushioned seats under a light that shined in the middle of the pool table, as above, so below, a glass visible inside it, staring almost trimmed back at you with it’s shiny reflection.

The place was a brown green aesthetic, with alcohol and cigarettes flaring up your nostrils, wafting through the air like a swarm of bees. The people were lucky there was a window.

“Hey, dude look at you making a spiffy!” an arm swung over your bare shoulders, the warmth creating a sudden, harsh sensation.

“Hey, Chlo,” you snickered at the drunk girl, her ponytail swimming around from behind her neck as always. Her shimmy moving ignited your alert, her stumbling more than foreign to her usual self.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ve seen some keen molls around gin mills- Jesus,” Chloe followed, before Harry stood up infront of the two of you.

“She’s... wasted,” you laughed gently, grabbing her arm and hoisting her arm up yourself, her legs regaining their balance.

Harry nodded in return, crossing his arms over his chest with a soft, inaudible sigh that you only caught by a grumble.

“Bad day?” you asked, pointing to the girl.

“Bad day,” He nodded, “we all have them.” He continued, chuckling, grabbing the girl by her armpits and quickly striding with her to the closest, unoccupied cushion that could work as her own throne.

You shook your head at the girl, eyes trailing around the pool game.

The silent group of people that orbited the room were engaged in touchy-feely kisser conversations, and you felt a sudden feeling of loneliness run over you.

You decided to pack your loneliness out on the club of crickets that played out by the dumpsters from behind the bar's doors.

Together with the unboxing of your halfway empty cigarette box, the everlasting, sickening strawberry scent piled in a round swiftly sticking onto you and your clothing. Your run down, 20s lighter flickered your cigarette on and you took the deepest breath you have all day.

Alone with your thoughts, finally being able to breathe, your back goosed up from the cold, accomodating with the change of icy temperature. And you enjoyed it. To an extent, it brought you an unfamiliar feeling of serenity.

In this hectic world, it was hard to find this one feeling. Except it was there, for a split second, growing and manifesting into euphoric silence.

Tears suddenly welled up in your eyes, and you took another drag of your cigarette, your exhalation a shaky breath.

Warmth spread on your cold shoulders, and the moment you didn’t budge, a sweet, honeyed voice whispered in your ear.

“’vening, princess,” rough hand slithered their way around your shoulders, gently ringing themselves around you, a subtle contact of the person’s lips sitting atop of your exposed shoulder.

You slightly smiled and blinked the tears away, tilting your head to the side to give better access.

Chapped lips enveloped your skin in tender butterfly kisses, and whilst your bad mood didn’t exactly falter, you felt a strand bit better just because of his presence.

“Hey... Sam, where have you been?” you breathed out when his mouth moved to your jaw and began rubbing his cheek against your own, hugging your waist from behind, front lingering on your back for deeper contact. The warmth of his opened button up warmed up your whole spine.

“Funny story. For another time,” he chuckled slightly, the scarred skin of his temples sitting under your jaw, his hair tickling your side gently, “where have you been?” he asked softly.

You inhaled sharply, but didn’t budge, holding the breath for a little longer, eyes focusing on the lamps of the back alley. They flickered and peppered the scene with a nice glow, and your eyes adjusted only to a fraction of the flashing lights.

Sam suddenly took hold of your wrist and brought the cigarette hanging loosely between your fingers to his face.

Snapping out of the brief trance, your head turned to his side, and your breath hitched in your throat when you tried to take another, without exhaling.

The handsome man stared into your eyes, before he took a slight drag out of the cigarette, smoke slipping past his ever chapped lips upon taking it out.

Just then did you force the breath out.

“What’s on your mind, dove?” he took the cigarette in his other hand and raised his other one to caress the other side of your face with his knuckles.

“There’s alot of things on my mind,” you sighed, closing your eyes for a split second, letting your cheek press onto his knuckles, his bruised skin inching closer into the plush.

Sam remained quiet, straightening up, and your eyes snapped open at his movement.

“Let’s go for a ride.” He said, slipping the cigarette into his mouth, hopping off the stairs, grabbing your hand.

You raised your eyebrows, but smiled slowly and pushed your coat up, reaching your hand out, your fingers intertwining into his.

“Where to?” you asked.

“You’ll see,” his eyes lingered on yours.

You took a step forward, “Alright.”

✧*。 ✧*。 ✧*。 ✧*。

The wind splashed into your face like cold water, each and every single bump available on the road making Sam’s motorcycle jump up and down. The green and yellow hue that blended in with the night created a soothing vibe, and you couldn’t help it when your voice chimed out in an exaggerated yell of excitement the more Sam sped up.

Sam was a good driver, especially on motorcycles, so you trusted him with his skills to not crash the two of you into a nearby dump.

The screeching of tires suddenly stopped your voice, and you fed your sight to the beauty of reflections within a far sea that stretched out into the unknown over its width.

The many shades of purples, blues, greens, yellows and even pinks created a translucent shade which screamed in your face.

“Wow..” you breathed out, stepping off the vehicle, your low heeled t-straps clicking along your speedwalk to the metal fence separating you from the ocean.

You heard Sam’s steps behind you, their sound coming closer and closer, before he was right beside you, his hand flying to your own, fingers slithering their way between yours.

“Do you.. you like it?” he stammered out, his voice a soft snickery, eyes watching your every move.

“Do-do I like it?” you whispered, the cold catching onto you slowly, “Sam, it’s... Beautiful,” you giggled, tapping the fence. “But cold.”

He let out a breathless chuckle, standing closer to your frame, his finger curling under your chin, “Sure is.. look at you, going all shaky on me?”

Your knees slightly buckled and you pursed your lips in embarrassment, gaze flowing down to the waters.

Sam’s finger tilted your head back to face him, your eyes locking onto his shining, hazel ones once more.

Your teeth gently dug into your bottom lip, the plump skin creating a sudden pillow for your ever growing nervousness. His warm fingers spread under either side of your jaw, and before any of you could speak a word, your lips were seduced by his in a slow, starting kiss, your hands trailing up his chest, to the crook of his neck, where you ringed the exposed flesh of it in a slow, lustful motion.

His chest rumbled in a groan when your fingers dug into his scalp, and you tugged back. The tip of your tongue spread on his bottom lip, and he much obliged in twirling his own over yours, slowly and steadily, gaining control over your pace.

The cold pipe holding the fence in place pressed against you, and the coat which provided enough warmth for the time being of your heated moment, turned into pudge, sliding down your shoulders, far off your elbows and fell on the ground, the length now shocking your skin through your thin gown, the frozen material hissing on your lower back.

You squeaked and jumped, Sam holding your hips in place so you wouldn’t fall over, your arms tightening around his neck, lip slightly bruised red from the gentle nibbling he’s been giving you.

“You okay?” he asked, his lips quivering in a held back laughter.

“Oh, oh yeah, yup,” you cleared your throat, reaching down for the coat, putting it over your shoulders hastily, “absolute dandy, swell.”

You looked up at him through a pout, I ruined the moment, what a way to go..

Sam sucked in his lips and licked them, tilting his head and coming down to your height, giving you a quick, breathless kiss, before scooping you up, his strong arms ringing under your armpits.

He took you like a ragdoll, hanging you to his full height, walking towards the motorcycle.

“Well, doll, seems like the clock’s ticking and we’ve got a bit more time to go,” he said in a sing-song voice, plopping you down on the back seat, your form emitting a gentle huff, “and I know just the right way to make you mine throughout all of it,” he sent you a kiss on the cheek, hand on your shoulder, a slight smirk candying his handsome face.

You pursed your lips into a thin line and looked up at him in anticipation, eyebrows rised whilst awaiting his proposal, which you would without hesitation, accept.

“How is that?” you slowly asked, letting a small smile appear.

“With drinks, of course,” he bowed down to you, giving you a smooch on the lips hastily, before he sat on the motorcycle.

You slumped behind Sam in disappointment, but continued on slipping your arms through your clothes nonetheless, giving him your soft, sad puppy eyes that bore into his back.

Sam gave you a side look, before turning around fully, a finger rising up to under your chin.

“Don’t worry, baby girl, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” His slow whisper forced your breath to hitch, goosebumps running up your arms surprisingly, and before you could respond, the motorcycle worked more as a stimulation to your growing nerves than you could’ve expressed to him.

The rest of the night bugged your mind, your eyes always flickering to the clock, counting minutes with Sam only giving in his mischief through those sinful, hazel eyes, the message in them always demanding to you, 'Patience, baby.'

✧*。 ✧*。 ✧*。 ✧*。 ✧*。

Dud - A wallflower

Forty-niner - A man who is prospecting for a rich wife

Slat - Young man

Cuddle-cootie - Young man who takes a girl for a ride on a bus

Feathers - Small talk; light conversation

Spiffy - Elegant appearance

"I've seen some keen molls around gin mills-"

Keen - Attractive or appealing

Moll - A gangster's girl

Gin Mill - A bar

#uncharted #uncharted4 #fanfiction #sam drake #x reader #uncharted+x+reader #samuel drake #sam drake x reader

[daisydoctor13]

∞ ? :)

right this one is hard to pick a favourite lyric and it has absolutely no meaning behind it whatsoever but it is a BANGER and also accurately describes me on a night out

That Grey Goose got your girl feeling loose Now I'm wishing that I didn't wear these shoes

London Bridge - Fergie

[put a “∞” in my ask box and I’ll give you my favorite lyric from a random song]

#music #meme #ask #tabsolanya #answers

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Paper Girl

Genre: wlw, mystery, slice of life urban fantasy

Words: 25k

Summary: A paper girl, a wealthy neighborhood, and a strange house. Seiko Toyomi starts her job at the crack of dawn and then does her sleeping on the morning bus, in between she interacts with a strange young girl that never seems to leave her house.

Seiko unexpectedly starts to befriend the girl and begins to wonder more and more: who is she? Why does no one know her? And is she trapped?

A love story of newspapers, front porches, and growing up together

Ko-Fi ⭐Patreon ⭐ WordPress⭐Twitter ⭐ Wattpad ⭐ Ao3

There was a house up on Townsend Street. A house with wedding-cake frosting trims and big white oak doors, a massive yard with room for three dogs but no dog in sight. It had a blue-grey exterior and thick green hedges perfectly trimmed in a square around the whole property. White daffodils bloomed in the numerous flower boxes and kaleidoscope bird feeders hung from the porch. The type of bird feeders even thieving squirrels looked at and said: no way guys, we can’t touch those ones.

A proper wrought iron fence hugged the hedges, dark, with ornate swoops and swirls at each bend, opening only once at an enormous double-gate. It was also dark iron and more decorative than practical, filled with large gaps and flowery designs, like out of some sort of story book. Seiko called it the ‘fairy gate’ in her head, holding her breath and crossing her fingers as she walked under the arch each time.

Everything was big there, big and quiet and filled with a hushed kind of luxury, it didn’t announce itself, but it was a living heartbeat that strangled everything else with it.

It was that type of street. A street with no cracks in the smooth grey sidewalks and cars with wax finishes and busybody mothers that yelled at her when she accidently walked on a lawn. Seiko didn’t mean to walk on the grass, she promised Mrs. Hankla it was only once and only since she was in a bit of a hurry.

They called the enclave ‘Greenbriar Hill’ and the other delivery kids were jealous she was assigned there, nobody else got tips like her. But nobody else had to deal with the wedding-cake house either.

They didn’t have to deal with the young girl in the neat frilly pajamas and face that scrunched up like an upset paper bag, watching Seiko with an exacting spotlight gaze.

The girl waited outside the big white oak doors every morning like one of those dogs that fetched the paper for you, but not the doting golden retriever type. More like a trimmed poodle, with it’s curls primped and perfumed with utmost care before it was walked. Or squatted next to a fire hydrant.

She looked around Seiko’s age, no more than 11, standing outside each morning in pink fluffy pajamas that fell past her knees and a pressed white bow. Her thick blonde hair was carefully curled and hung just above her shoulder tops, loose corkscrew curls that bounced when she moved. She had dark eyes the color of royal blue ink or sunless ocean waters, dark and ready to storm.

She had pinched cheeks and a little mouth, making her eyes seem even bigger on her small face and delicate features. Most strikingly was how pale she was, pale as unmarked parchment or bleached bone, like the dry skeleton of a hare Seiko saw once on a trip to Arizona: bare and stripped, a little chilling.

She was as pale as burnt ash and almost as worrying, like a sickly victorian child you thought to give cough syrup to. Or holy water.

Seiko wasn’t expecting to see anyone her age outside this early, the sun was barely up and Seiko’s arms were goose-fleshing from the chilly breeze. She had worn her short-sleeve Lego Batman t-shirt for her first day, making sure everyone saw it at least once since she spent her allowance and then some on the thing.

And now she was sitting on her bike in someone’s huge driveway with a little girl in pink staring fiercely back at her lego-shirt and shivering arms.

The girl glanced down at a leather wristwatch as if Seiko was late, what kind of kid had a leather wristwatch? Seiko plucked a newspaper out from her sack and hopped gingerly forward.

“Good morning miss,” that sounded like the right thing to say. She smiled, “It’s gonna be a beautiful day.” The girl reached out and snatched the newspaper from Seiko’s hands, “it’s going to rain.” She said flatly back and her blonde curls danced in place. “You’re new. What’s your name?” Seiko blinked a couple times, taken back. “Seiko. Seiko Toyomi, nice to meet you?” She wasn’t sure if she should put her hand out to shake, like a sales transaction or charged mob-boss greeting like she saw in movies.

“Well, Seiko,” the girl said tartly, “don’t leave the gate open next time, it’s a hazard.” Seiko’s eyes went huge and she frowned, “It’s my first day.” The girl arched her eyebrows pointedly over at the end of the lawn and Seiko followed her gaze, she had, indeed, left the gate open behind her. Seiko had a few snappy words trapped behind her tongue about the girl’s attitude.

“Annalise!” A voice called from inside the house, “Annalise! Did you get it?” “Yes mom,” the girl turned around, only sparing one last look behind her. “Don’t forget the gate. And,” she paused, “thank you for the paper.” She said stiffly. “Here.” She handed Seiko her tip and it all felt like some sort of dream Seiko was walking through, with  rich girls in sleeping wear sliding her balled up five dollar bills from her tight fists. She half-expected to see a large white swan walk out from behind the bushes to grant her wishes.

“Thanks,” Seiko piped up, blinking. “Have a nice day.” The girl, Annalise, just waved and shut the door behind her. “Don’t forget about the rain.” Seiko turned around to hide her eye-roll and jumped back on her bike, maybe money could buy giant yards and fancy bikes with more than one speed. But apparently it couldn’t buy manners. It did rain that day though, and every day after.

Seiko remembered it vividly, like an omen.

—————–

Seiko got up at 5:45am, just like her mom instructed, bolting upright with the first beep of her alarm clock and jumping into her sneakers. She had slept in her jeans and fuzzy orange sweater, her mom didn’t know about that part.

But it was Seiko’s second day of work and she wasn’t going to mess it up, she already got briefly yelled at for knocking over someone’s lawn gnome and delivering someone’s paper bent in half. Most people smiled and waved and handed her a dollar or two, but those two other encounters stuck in her mind like a sharpened pencil. It wouldn’t happen again.

The apartment was dark and soundless at that hour, almost seeming taboo, Seiko was careful to walk heel-toe down the hall and only turn on one light. She ended up stuffing a single piece of bread in her mouth and then hurrying out the door, groggy and wired as a dorm room outlet. She left ten minutes earlier than she needed to, whirring over Mr. Simmons shop and grinning from ear to ear the whole way on her bike.

Rogers, Illinois was a small town, small enough that people liked their papers hand-delivered and Mr. Simmons was old-fashioned and idyllic enough to hire kids to do it. It built character he said, tightened the community, somehow was unquestioned under ‘child labor laws.’ That sort of thing.

Seiko skidded to a halt in front of the corner shop, waving, “Hey Mr. Simmons!” She put her hand out, “Here for the Greenbriar route.” Mr. Simmons was out front moving boxes and fastening shut large sacks, bulging with rolled up papers. They were white with one thick strap for your shoulder and the words ‘Local Business Proud’ printed on the side.

Mr. Simmons handed her the far one, “Remember we’re having a pizza party this Friday,” he sounded properly awake and bright, “It’ll be the first one for the whole team.” Mr. Simmons was young, still graying around the temples and nearly blind in one eye, a traditionalist in the sense of people who forget what tradition is.

“Thanks Mr. Simmons, I’ll remember,” she grinned and waved, kicking off from the curb. “See you!” She streaked away, ready to prove herself in all her 10-year-old glory and with the energy of a newly-broken glow stick.

She pedaled hard, making little grunts as she pushed herself up the hill to Greenbriar, sweating despite the sweet fall chill in the air. The neighborhood was graveyard-still when she arrived, cold and blurry-eyed. She grinned, reaching two-story sprawling houses and carefully placing papers face-up in their slim plastic bags, like neatly wrapped Christmas morning presents.

She didn’t knock over any lawn gnomes this time.

Seiko was breathing hard, but in a good way, in the way that made her feel like she just answered a question right in class or did a perfect high-five. The wedding-cake house was in the middle house of her route, slightly removed from the other ones. Seiko closed the gate quickly behind her when she arrived and latched it tightly just in case.

It was earlier this time, no hint of sun on the horizon under the lumpy morning clouds and no sound of bird calls at all. The girl in pink pajamas was waiting for her.

Seiko waved, “I closed the gate!” She sang and jumped off her bike to hurry forward, “I’m even early.” Annalise looked her up and down and then nodded, just as pale and otherworldly as before. “Good.” Annalise put her hand out, “the other boy always used to forget anyway.” Seiko picked her way up the driveway, she smiled amiably. “Hey, do you go to Bristol Elementary school? Or Canyon Creek? I bet it’s Canyon.” The girl frowned at her, wiggling her fingers in midair for the paper, “Seiko Toyomi,” she sounded like she was prying the name off a burning skillet. “You go to Bristol.” Seiko nodded quickly, “Yeah, Bristol, how do you know that? Do you go there?” She hopped up and down, then stopped with a frown, “Probably not.” She would have seen her in the school halls if she did.

“Put rain boots on tomorrow,” Annalise fluffed her curling hair, “It will be worse.” She took the paper from her briskly. “Thank you for your service.” She handed her another large bill.

Seiko was still staring at her as she closed the door and another voice called as before, “Anna, dear, bring the tea over too.”

“Coming!” What kind of girl was this?

Seiko pulled her hood up as it began to drizzle, turning away and putting the oddness of it out of sight and out of mind. She slept on the bus on her way to school that morning and dreamt of poodles eating her bike tires and barking at her.

—————

The entire week continued like that: Seiko pedaling her heart out and trying to prove herself to some unknown entity that judged ten-year-olds on their job performance. Biking, delivering, and having snatches of conversation with early-waking exercise nuts, bathrobe-fathers with bags under their eyes, and old people ready to complain about the morning’s headlines.

And the girl. The strange girl.

She was chastising and brisk, reminding Seiko of the crabby middle-aged manager at the local CVS who always yelled at Seiko for picking up half the candy section and then only ever buying one. She reminded her of the blonde news-anchor lady who was always angry at the local politicians. She reminded her of someone who definitely had never seen the Lego Batman movie and never would.

Seiko only found out a little more about the sharp and secretive girl on the last day of the week: the friday pizza party. It stopped raining that day.

—-

“Does she have like, warts on her hands?”

“Or blood on the doorframe? For warding off the evil eye or something.”

“Tell me she has a raven that caws at you when you enter.”

“Why would I go inside?” Seiko pushed away the face of a bug-eyed boy with too many freckles and a whistle when he talked through the gap in his teeth. The other kid’s crowded around her in turn.

“Does she have roses in her garden?” A mousy girl with straight black hair and the voice of a tiny cricket asked her a little dreamily. “That never wilt or die. I bet they’re beautiful.”

“Tell me her mother tips you in crystals or astrology calendars or something.” June, a bright-eyed redhead, contributed excitably. “I’ve never seen the mom,” Seiko shook her head, “Only the daughter. And they don’t have roses.” Katy, the mousy girl, wilted at that. Katy was slightly chubby, stout, and skittish, always looking ready to apologize or sink into the floor like a self-effacing puddle.

Bobby Isler, the bug-eyed boy, frowned “Or blood?” “Or blood.” “Aww,” June slumped down, vivid red ponytail bobbying in place, she was a tall girl in baggy overalls and chipped fingernails each painted a different color. She grumbled, “That’s so lame.” She poked her pizza with one finger. “Are you even looking?” Seiko rolled her eyes and took a bite of her own luke-warm pepperoni pizza, Mr. Simmons had left them alone to ‘enjoy themselves’ as he explained with a wink. He thought they were talking about crushes or weed or whatever he assumed kids talk about.

They were not talking about weed.

“It’s not like that. It’s normal. Ish,” she looked away and scratched her nose, “Why are you all so interested in it? She’s seriously not a witch.”

Bobby poked her, “Nuh-uh. Don’t you watch channel 7?” He squinted at her, “How out of the loop are you?” They all stare at her, Seiko jutted her jaw out fiercely, “Me? You’re the ones,” she huffed, “you’re the ones who are losing it. She’s just a lady and her snooty daughter.” “I didn’t know she had a daughter,” Katy said slowly. “She never mentions it. That’s nice to know though.” Seiko blew stray dark hairs out of her eyes, she had cut it short for the new school year and immediately regretted it. It kept getting in her face.

“Yeah, well, she does. And she’s bratty,” she sniffed loudly, “and we don’t get channel 7, my mom says it’s rubbish.” “Rubbish,” June repeated, rolling the word around in her mouth and rubbing her nose, “are you doing that phony British accent again?” Seiko’s cheeks flushed red, June was in her fifth grade class and she had a long memory. Seiko looked away and took a huge bite of her pizza, “That was only for a little! SO long ago June.” June snickered and looked at the others, “she pretended to have British accent for all of 4th grade, and not even a good one.” “It was only for a month!” Seiko retorted sharply, “barely three weeks.” June laughed again, “it was the worst.” Bobby laughed loudly and Katy looked away politely, like this was some embarrassing family affair where the aunt took her shoes off and threw them at your rotten Uncle Shou for smoking and tipping the pretty waitress too much.

Katy cleared her throat, “She’s the only psychic in town, I watch her every night.” She met Seiko’s eyes, “I’m going to get my love line read by her.” She nodded astutely, like it was set in stone and the only obvious path ahead. Katy was also the oldest of them, just turned 13, and that made an impression in Seiko’s head.

Or at least, it had. She wrinkled her nose, “Love line?” She snorted, “That’s all bogus, she’s just a rich lady who reads off a teleprompter.” She shook her head, “That’s what my mom says.” Her mom had a lot of opinions.

“No way,” June crossed her arms over her chest, “She’s the real deal. She did Macy’s moms fortune on LIVE TELEVISION, she talked about future death in the family and Macy’s grandpa died the next week! She’s the real deal.” Madame Catherine Lynne (or just Madame Lynne) was a local television personality who told people’s fortune on channel seven, several small-town legends had sprung up around her since. With her huge glasses, elbow-length gloves, long evening gowns and deep resounding voice, they called her everything from a genuine black-magic witch to an elaborate hack.

“I just deliver her papers,” Seiko grumbled into her soda, “I didn’t even know that was her house.” Which was true, it was just another fancy house in a row of fancy houses.

“Well, that’s our favorite space case for you,” June reached for Seiko to give her one of her signature noogie’s.

Seiko pushed her way, “And our favorite terrible busy-body.” They exchanged a number of kicks under the table until Katy put her hands down, “Let me know if you see the Madame.” She said in a small but firm voice, “Ask her if she’s gotten letters from a Katy Mendoza. I’ve been,” she struggled, face blooming red as she realized they were all staring at her now. “I’ve been writing…” She ended weakly.

Seiko frowned, there was so much earnestness in the other girl’s face, almost desperate. Seiko puffed her chest out, “I will, I promise.”

They all sat back in their chairs and Seiko stifled a yawn as the music of the pizza parlour swelled. She was ready to leave by then, still tired from waking up at around 5am all week- her father joked about how this is what it felt like being a real worker. She’s not sure she wanted it.

Seiko sucked on her soda until only the grating sound of ice and backwash was left. She spoke up again after a long moment, “Do any of you know if an Annalise Lynne goes to Canyon Creek? That’s the daughter.” They all just exchanged blank looks with each other, Bobby was the first to shrug, “Like I said, I didn’t even know she had a daughter.” Seiko frowned at that, but June sighed exaggeratedly, “I bet she goes to some fancy private school.” She waved her hand in the air, eyes drifting down, “Did you get a new sticker on your bag Seiko?” She changed the subject, “Do you even know who Daft Punk is?”

Seiko turned on her, “Of course I do, and for your information…” The night continued on, bickering and talking and listening to cheesy pizza parlour tunes.

Seiko never found out where Annalise went to school, or if she went to school at all.

——————–

She looks so lonely.

Another blurry, creeping day hit Seiko with long grasping fingers, yanking her out of bed with a groan. She rubbed her eyes, trying to fight through the thin spiderwebs criss-crossing her headspace as she lumbered around the apartment at 5 in the morning.

The first week of Seiko’s new job slipped quickly by and by the second and third she was getting tired, more tired than she thought she could be.

Her dad, once again, told her that ‘this is what being a real working person felt like.’ The joke was getting old. She barely remembered leaving the house and getting to the corner shop, it was all getting old.

Seiko drove her boke dutifully up the hill to Greenbriar, the weather had been getting cooler with each week as Illinois winter bore down, but that day was the exception. It was going to erratically climb up into the high 60s and shine all day, but that was weather for you.

Seiko was barely cognate of her regular route, pedal, place, pedal, wave, accept two dollars, keep going. She didn’t think it would become so rote so fast, but it was just as mindless as her friend Kingsley warned.

He was always warning her about something though, she’d call it a downright nervous disorder if the spirit of one of her auntie’s wouldn’t materialize and pinch her cheek with a ‘be nice Seiko’ from beyond the grave.

She could be nice.

It was on that particularly warm fall day that Seiko was struck with a strange thought, a sticky hard thought that that caught in her mind like a thorn. She approached the wedding-cake house with the girl perched outside like an ever present stone guardian.

She looks so lonely.

It echoed within her.

Seiko wouldn’t call herself particularly perceptive, but that didn’t stop her from looking the girl up and down. She made a stunning pale silhouette against the enormous house with the air of an-fashioned heroine waiting for her family to return from the war.

It’s all so lonely.

Seiko shook her head vigorously, she’s a rich, pretty girl, she’ll be more than fine.

Seiko took the paper out immediately and shuffled up to the house, “Hiya,” she spoke up, remembering herself. “Good morning.”

Annalise’s brow knit together, “good morning.” Seiko shifted from foot to foot, holding the paper aloft. There was another thing she was working up to, maybe this was the right moment. Seiko could be nice. And maybe Annalise would like the conversation.

“So,” she cleared her throat, shifting from side to side. “I have thing.”

Annalise arched an eyebrow up, “What thing?” She asked testily, “Did you rip the paper?”

“No!” Seiko lifted her chin up proudly, “It’s not about papers. I was just wondering,” she took a deep breath in, deciding to do this now. “Have you seen any letters from a Katy Mendoza?” “Who?” Annalise took a step back, wary and eyeing her.

“Katy Mendoza. She writes you letters, I mean, she writes your mom.” She felt the sting of awkwardness rubbing against her skin. Annalise was looking at her like she was growing another head- and that head was ugly. This was a bad idea.

Annalise’s sharp blue eyes penetrated her like a swear word in church: echoing and harsh. Annalise cleared her throat, “We get many letters.”

“She’s my friend,” Seiko went on, “She wants to have her love line read. She’s into that sort of thing, she’s thinks she’ll never find love or something and that Madame Lynne, your mom, can help I guess.” Annalise was still frowning, as if perplexed by a certain math problem or stubborn weed. She put her hand out for the paper, Seiko reluctantly handed it over, wilting in place. That hadn’t gone well.

“Thank you for the paper,” Annalise handed her five dollars. “Have a good day.” Seiko wanted to bury her face in the perfectly manicured grass, what was I thinking? She doesn’t even want to talk to me in general, much less do favors.

Seiko turned to flee to her bike and pedal until her thighs burned away her own fumbling mouth and unnecessary probing.

“And Seiko,” Seiko stopped in place, Annalise hadn’t closed the door yet, voice chasing her. “I will look for your friend’s letter. I won’t forget.” She said, voice measured and whispery. She closed the door swiftly afterward, before Seiko could add anything else.

“Thanks,” Seiko stared blankly back at the large white oak doors and latched golden handles.

Sometimes she thought she saw Annalise watching her from the second story window, stony and frozen in place, hand gently touching the window and following her. Other times she thought it was just her brain conjuring up tales in her head, the type with snow queen’s daughters and fairy gates.

She rode her bicycle away, this whole place is lonely.

The empty lawns and gated homes and featureless driveways go on and on and Seiko wished for a moment she wasn’t a working girl, that she was still in bed waiting for the morning to come.

——————

Life went on.

She was graduating fifth grade that year and it couldn’t have felt like a bigger deal, would she follow her friends to Bristol Middle School or go to the local charter school, Elmswood?

Elmswood had a better reputation, bigger cafeteria, and a soccer team who actually made to the state championships. Then of course some Chicago school would immediately bump them out of state championships, but they still made it all the same.

Seiko wasn’t very good at sticking to sports, or hobbies for that matter, but she was pretty excited for soccer this year. The early-morning biking helped her stamina and game play, the fact she couldn’t actually kick the ball in any desired direction did not.

But Liza Mayweather was captain of the team and she was 5 feet 5 inches of the ‘coolest girl’ Seiko knew. Liza was going to Elmswood.

But then Seiko would have to leave Kingsley, her best friend since kindergarten. They met on the first day, traded chocolate puddings, chased a bouncy ball around for two hours straight together, and had been inseparable ever since. It was a hard choice and wasn’t getting any easier.

Seiko kept her paper route, even as the weather turned for the worse and she already had enough money saved up to buy at the very least a second hand Switch. However, things in the neighbor simply became more and more habitual, familiar.

The people in the brown house had a Saint Bernard named Nooky who was possibly the best creature ever, he gave a world ending ‘boof’ whenever he saw her and Seiko’s heart soared. Mrs. Hankla let her pet him some days.

Several of the houses had outdoor cats who appeared on high fences, fancy-feast enthusiasts who would eye you from afar and daintily get closer and closer each week. She named the white one ‘General Sour Cream’ and the calico one ‘Grand Duchess Granola.’ They were in love.

Less people jogged in the winter, more people greeted her with sleep-crusted eyes and a quick ‘are you alright sweetheart?’

Two different people offered her new gloves to wear. She already had gloves.

Seiko learned about the girl too.

Annalise changed from her pink pajamas to a loose long-sleeved top and soft matching black bottoms. She liked tea, because of course she did, she didn’t like the neighbors mowing their lawns, she liked Seiko’s rainbow fingerless gloves. Or at least, Seiko hoped she did since Annalise kept glancing at them.

Annalise could play the piano, she got headaches easily, and thought anyone who woke up past eight O’Clock had simply already given up on life. She knew name brands, hated fast-fashion, and ran her own ‘Plastic Reduction’ eco-education home page. She gave Seiko a sticker for it.

And that was it.

Seiko assumed there wasn’t anything more to it, and then it was February.

————

Snow fell in wallops of sticky cold droplets that hit unwitting citizens like frigid water balloons from above, half-ice and half-slushy it might as well have been the devil pissing on them. That’s what one of the older kids said on the bus yesterday when it first started.

Seiko repeated it to Kingsley who joined her in giggling into their hands like they said it themselves.

Seiko expected school to be closed the next day, she expected the roads to be shut down and people to be banned from the outdoors like some sort of dangerous zoo enclosure. She expected to drink hot chocolate in bed and watch youtube videos of ‘how it’s made’ all day.

Her alarm rang at 5:45 am anyway. The people needed their news, they needed that fresh headline: It’s Cold as a Witch��s teat in a Brass Bra. Seiko had learned that one on the bus too.

She hadn’t missed a day of work so far and she, for reasons beyond herself, wasn’t going to start now. Her uncle had bought her new boots for her birthday: fur-trimmed with little puff-balls at the end of the shoelaces, he told her to break them in nice and easy. This would have to be the ‘mean and hard’ way instead.

She put on two pairs of socks underneath and went to the doorway.

She stuffed on her oversized ewok hat, a joke-present she got before she turned 11 and too old for that sort of thing. But it was as thick as siberian’s arm hair and the little ears made her feel a little bolder in the furious white morning.

“Where are you going Seiko?” Her mom was also up at 5am, always claiming to be busy with Seiko’s little sister Rei at this hour, but Rei was 2 by then and barely up any more. Their dad swore their mom had insomnia, but her mom would be in her grave before she admitted to that sort of thing.

She looked at Seiko’s fluffy hat and pretended to be busy folding kitchen rags.

“Work mom,” she adjusted her hat and found a large fleece scarf to wrap around her neck.

Her mom sniffed, “Don’t ride your bike.” “I can’t,” Seiko blinked with a grumble, “Too bad out.” “And don’t talk to strangers.” “When do I ever talk to strangers mom?” Seiko retorted with a yawn and a prickle behind her words.

Her mom patted her shoulder, “I’m making leftovers for breakfast. Take a hot shower when you’re back, school isn’t canceled.” “I knoooow,” she moaned and went for the door. “And don’t move my backpack. I got stuff in there and I keep not being able to find it.” “Then don’t leave it where I can kick it.” “Ugh,” she made a face, “bye mom.”

Seiko left before they could get into one of their regular squabbles, the weather didn’t help since Seiko always felt like they were living on top of each other when they got snowed-in. Her family’s apartment was fine, everything worked and the pipes never froze, but it was… tight. It had three rooms, one bathroom, and a tucked away kitchen with no oven. But it was fine, it had a carpet that didn’t static and an outside not completely overcome by hobos or nettles.

It was on the second story of a red-brick apartment building that had a bent TV dish outside and rusty skateboards piling up on the side. The building’s heating worked most the time and the air conditioning worked some of the time.

Between the weeds growing up between cracks and the convenience store that sold cigarettes to anyone not carrying a pacifier, it was fine, everything was fine. Walking over to Greenbriar on the other hand though was crossing between ‘fine’ to the ‘fairygate.’

Seiko collected her wares at the corner shop, Mr. Simmons applauded her for coming in at all and handed her two hot packs for her hands. She didn’t say much back, she didn’t know why she was there either.

She skimmed the paper’s headline: It’s Cold. So Cold, Father Winter is Definitely Passing a Particularly Frigid Gallstone Over Us. Seiko traveled slowly into the fairy hills, covered in powdery white sugar and untouched by the bustling of other determined worker ants, blithely ignoring the coming slush and grime of the town’s roads and sidewalks.

Seiko trudged onward. She forgot her hands, her feet, and everything else in between as she walked, shivered, and delivered.

——

“Attagirl,” Mr. Busby of the brown house and fake teeth handed her a five. He had never done that before. “Good see the youth off their phones and actually doing something.” Seiko just nodded in response and mutely moved to the next house. The street wound on in a dusty blaring-white monotony, almost no one was up to greet her as she placed one plastic-wrapped paper down after the next.

She wasn’t at all surprised to find Annalise Lynne outside when she reached the wedding-cake house. Strangely though, the other girl wasn’t in her usual position next to the door, safe and dry with the usual impassive look on her face.

Seiko’s eyebrows rose, Annalise was bent over the edge of her concrete porch, squinting out at her snowy domain. She had pink boots stuffed over her feet and a yellow umbrella shielding her from the onslaught of slushy snow from up above.

She was bundled up underneath the umbrella and looking nervously at the ground, lips pinched together and expression shadowed, whole body as tense as a stretched rubber band.

Seiko tilted her head to the side, pausing for a long second. Annalise shifted in place, worry-lines permeating her young face.

“Uh,” Seiko hurried up the girl’s vast driveway, “How’s it going Annalise?” Her voice sounded rusted and stiff to her own ears as she asked.

Annalise blinked up, her expression noticeably strained. “Nothing,” she murmured quietly and then looked back to the snowbanks, clutching the umbrella. She glanced up unseeingly, “You must be cold.” Seiko furrowed her brow, “Yeah.” She scratched her chin, “It’s cold.” Seiko just nodded, sniffing slightly, “The last boy would never come in weather like this.” Her gaze was still trained away from her. “Thank you for your service.” Whenever she said that Seiko felt like a war veteran being thanked at an airport by a white woman who bought in bulk from costco. She just nodded again.

“Is… everything okay? Do you need,” Seiko searched the ground, “Help?” She offered weakly since it seemed like the thing to do.

Annalise finally looked up again, “I’m capable of handling it,” she clutched the umbrella and reached absently up to her ear. There was a small empty hole there. She frowned, “But…” She met her eyes briefly, “if you see a blue diamond earring then, well,” she bit her lip, “let me know.” Seiko journeyed the little way up to the side of the porch, the overhang finally protecting her from the soggy snowfall. “Blue earring?” Annalise nodded shallowly, barely tilting her head down, “it looks like a snowdrop.” Her hands bleached on the umbrella handle, “and my mom’s going to freaking kill me for losing it.” Seiko stood up straight at that statement, the words strangely out of place and striking. My mom’s going to freaking kill me. What?

“Hey, watch my papers,” Seiko pushed her pack toward the dry doorway. “I once found my sister’s binky in a playground ball pit.”

Annalise looked up sharply, “Seiko Toyomi, I can’t,” she said quickly, “I can’t ask you to do that.”

Seiko made a face at her, “You can just call me Seiko,” she wrinkled her nose, “and it’s not a big deal, honest. Did you lose it around here?” Annalise looked away, cheeks burning a bland red, like her face wasn’t accustomed to any color at all. “Maybe…” She said slowly, “Last night I went out here to look at the snowfall and,” She said haltingly and felt at her ear, “When I woke up this morning I realized I didn’t have one of my earrings. Ugh.” She growled in the back of her throat, “Stupid, stupid. She’ll be so mad.” Seiko cocked her eyebrows up, “When does your mom normally wake up?” Annalise frowned, “She had a late show last night,” her shoulders relaxed, “So she’ll be out for at least a little longer, maybe even 7:30.” Seiko smiled, “Alright!” She hopped into the nearest snow pile, sinking into the layering ice and sleet. “Let’s get looking.” Annalise watched her carefully, “… Thank you.” She spoke softly, clearly, searching Seiko’s face for a moment before nodding, “Check by the flower bed.” Annalise leaned off the stoop and pointed, “It would be somewhere close to the bottom.” Seiko got to work sifting through the piles of wet slush, her gloves soaking through and eyes straining against the pure white mass. “Are you sure it fell here?” “No,” Annalise pointed to her right, “check over there.” They hurried, Annalise pointing and Seiko kicking and churning her way around the yard.

“No, no, not there, that’s too far,” Annalise huffed after several minutes, breath coming out in puffy little clouds. She stood up in place, “This will take too long. One second, wait here.” Seiko looked up brightly, “What?” She cocked an eyebrow up at her, “Also, for the record, I’m doing this to be nice. Friendly. Polite, stop glaring at me.” “I’m not glaring,” Annalise snapped and looked to the door, “I’m just… frustrated.” She scuffed her boot on the ground and then looked back up, “I’m going to help. One second.” “Okay?” Seiko had figured Annalise was too delicate or soft or perfectly-moisturized to wade into the clingy snow with her and help dig. That’s what you hired paper girls for.

Annalise tossed her umbrella aside and swung open her house door, Seiko peaked into the dim foyer: huge and holding a grand staircase. Seiko just blinked at it as the other girl ran back inside.

Seiko told herself she was just being nice. It was the right thing to do. She wasn’t here to be a looky loo, especially since her mother would never let her live it down if she was. They weren’t the type of family to get fascinated by pop stars or celebrities or late night TV show psychics.

Or their strange daughters.

Seiko stood in the bitter wind, shivering slightly and glancing at her undelivered papers. They were all definitely late.

But maybe the neighbors would forgive her for a snow-storm delay.

Seiko watched the family’s big doors for another minute, waiting for something. Did Annalise abandon her to the cold and needle-in-a-haystack quest? Should she leave?

Just as she was thinking about getting her pack and being on her way, Annalise strode calmly back outside. Seiko stopped in place as she did, “Oh my God.”

Annalise lifted her chin with a sniff. “Don’t laugh.”

Annalise was wearing what looked like a plastic beekeepers helmet, yellow cleaning gloves secured by rubber bands, two winter coats covered by a teal rain jacket, and what looked like shiny waterproof ski pants. She even wore plastic bags over her winter boots- also secured by rubber bands.

Seiko ended up covering her mouth and snickering.

Annalise’s face glowed red, “I don’t like getting wet!”

Seiko laughed into her hands, “No, no, I get it.” She giggled, “It’s just… okay.” Annalise put her hands on her hips, “Are you here to help or make fun of me?” Seiko gave a cheeky grin, “Can I do both? Because… that’s a bee helmet.” Annalise tilted her chin up with a frown, “No, we’re not that familiar yet.” Seiko shrugged and bent down again, “How familiar does a newspaper girl and her house-deliverees have to be?”

“Well I’ll tell you when we’re there, then you can laugh I suppose.” Annalise shuffled forward, weighed down by her various clothes. “Though your assistance will be noted.” Seiko shrugged, “Don’t mention it.” Annalise teetered on the edge of her porch, looked closely at all the snow, like it was a freezing lake she was preparing herself to jump buck-naked into. Seiko gave her a funny look, “Are you waiting for something?” Annalise shot her an unreadable glance, unnervingly blank. Then she widened her stance, took a deep breath, exhaled, and did a short flailing hop into the snow.

She landed, hands out and eyes screwed shut, whole body star-fished out as if to keep everything away. She opened her eyes slowly.

“Oh,” she shivered and then turned around in a tight circle, kicking a nearby pile of snow, “Oh!”

Seiko knit her brow together, Annalise expression had opened up into a strange erratic joy- fascinated by the mounds of white fluff. “Oh this is very good.”

“Yes?” Seiko watched Annalise gawk and poke at the piles, picking up a handful of the stuff and throwing it in the air. “Look at that!” It fell in lumps down and she beamed, kicking another pile over.

Seiko waited for a while before clearing her throat. “Um,” she looked around, “Are you not allowed to play in the snow?” She had a weird feeling about the answer.

Annalise’s guarded eyes flicked in her direction, she straightened up. “I just… don’t do it often.” She bent down again like a robot given a sudden direction, “Alright, where have you already searched?”

Seiko pointed to several locations around the porch and they got to work again, pointing and guessing and carefully searching. The snowfall slowly dwindled, turning from fat wet balls into tiny dandelion fluffs. Faint rays of sun finally broke out into a sleek grey morning, weak and barely there like the wheezing breaths of a forgotten old man.

Seiko was starting to get a headache from the glare of the endless white, she finally sat back on her haunches and turned to the other girl. “What will happen if you don’t find it?” Annalise froze mid-sift, eyes cast down, “my mom,” she clenched her teeth, “will be really pissed.” “Oh,” Seiko could only guess at what that meant for her. Grounding? Pony privileges revoked? A dungeon? Who knew.

“They were for my birthday,” she continued bitterly, “she was so excited to give them to me. Said it was some milestone.” Annalise shook her head, “Goddammit.” Seiko giggled at that.

“What?” Annalise glanced at her. “What is it?” “Nothing,” Seiko kept running her fingers through the layers, “it’s just, you know, you don’t seem like the type to curse.” She snorted, “Too prim.” Annalise paused at that, giving Seiko a hard long look. Then, she drew herself up, standing tall, squaring her shoulders, and making herself big and solid. She held Seiko’s gaze as a lion would before jumping through a fiery hoop. “FUCK.” Seiko burst into a side-splitting laugh, rich and spilling out her from her insides like a warm river, she held her sides and rolled back in the snow, “Oh my god.” “Shit!”

“No wait,” she laughed, “stop.” “Bastard baby idiot!”

Seiko waved her hand through the air, “You’ve proved it, you’ve proved it.” Seiko wiped at her eyes and couldn’t miss the pleased smile crossing Annalise’s face, terribly satisfied with itself.

“Well. Now you know.” She flattened down her bloated jacket like it was a fine party dress. Seiko couldn’t stop laughing, she turned over in place. “You showed me. I’ve learned a lot today.” Annalise hummed and looked her over, “you’re a strange girl.” “Me?” Seiko’s face lit up and she kept snickering, “Me?” “Yes,” Annalise delicately picked through some more snow. “All… those outfits you wear and bike riding. You go so fast, where is your helmet?” “You sound like my mom,” Seiko grumbled, but she was still smiling. “You’re the one who lives in a huge house with a psychic mom. And no one’s even heard of you, do you go to some fancy boarding school or something? With like, uniforms and everything. I bet it’s in England.” And maybe with wizards and sorting hats and dragons, Seiko had theories.

Annalise didn’t look up, her expression downcast and eyes uneasy. “Well,” she folded into herself. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just homeschooled.” “Oh,” Seiko blinked a couple times, that wasn’t what she imagined. It wasn’t how she imagined homeschool kids looked or how she imagined Annalise spent her days.

Annalise met her eyes tentatively, “You go to the school down the way,” Annalise touched her elbow, “Do you like it?” Seiko wasn’t sure how to answer that, did she like it? She didn’t know. It’s just what she did, it’s what everyone did, it’s not something you liked or didn’t, you just did it- like your laundry or the dishes.

“I guess?” She itched her nose, “I like PE and science class. Sometimes I like art, but Miss Shaw is kind of an old bag, she keeps telling me I draw without purpose. Whatever that means.” “Right,” Annalise looked away, as if that wasn’t what she was looking for.

“Right,” Seiko turned away, unable to hold on to whatever this was. She was about to tell Annalise to maybe secretly buy another pair of earrings and get rush delivery. And then she saw something glittering in the snow.

“Woah,” she reached down, following the reflection- a silver glare catching the light. “Oh man.” She picked up a blue-diamond, shaped as a perfect snowdrop with a silver back and little delicate outline.

It looked like something a prince might give a princess for her hand in marriage or a charm to ward off warlocks and ugly curses. It caught the light like a bird song and Seiko has to gape at the thing for a second.

She never got into ‘stuff,’ how could she? She could afford fingerless rainbow gloves and novelty t-shirts and the occasional ewok hat, but they weren’t like this. Nothing was like this.

“Here,” Seiko pushed it away from herself as if it burned, swallowing some bile in her throat she couldn’t name. She wasn’t going to own something like that, even if she got a silly boyfriend or big wedding, she knew that.

Annalise took it, cradling it in her clumsy gloved hands. “Thank you,” she said breathlessly, “Thank you so much.” Seiko thought she saw Annalise’s eyes go damp and slightly red, but it was hard to tell. Seiko just patted her knee, “No big deal,” she shrugged, “Pissing off your parents sucks.” And it doesn’t look like you have anyone else.

Seiko didn’t think of herself as observant or thoughtful or any of those ‘ding’ words, but Annalise looked up at her and Seiko felt like something, someone, after all.

Annalise put her hand out, “I can’t repay you enough.” For some reason, they shake, there in the snow and weak light and undelivered newspapers. “Let me get you some tea or dry gloves or anything.” Seiko just sniffed and looked away, “Nah.” She dusted herself off and got up again, “Just don’t complain about me and the gate or how I bike and all that stuff.” She winked, “I’m the good samaritan here.” “Yes, yes you are,” Annalise’s eyes go soft and she stood up after her. “Let me get you som-” And maybe she would have gotten her something, but they both heard footsteps from inside, “Annalise?” A voice called, “Honey?”

Annalise froze like she was a burglar caught in police headlights, “I gotta go.” They both tore away in opposite directions, though Seiko didn’t know what she was running for, she looked over to shoulder to see Annalise ripping off her plastic gloves and heavy coat, eyes wild with something.

Seiko hurried away with her pack at her side and a few missed calls from various adults. School had been canceled after all. And where was she? She should have been back then. And so on.

Seiko was wet and cold and achy when she returned, limbs heavy as stones and trembling on their own. Her thoughts endlessly started churning, taking apart what just happened. Annalise in the snow, her face as bright as an expanding star.

Annalise as frightened as a hare in a claw trap, Annalise cradling the blue diamond and on the verge of tears, Annalise looking at her.

She’s just another girl, she reminded herself, and I’m just being a good person.

She closed her eyes and put her head against the shower wall, hot water ran over her back and she exhaled, it was a day worth more than she knew.

—————

Annalise started to open up more to her each time she visited, as if finding her earring had turned Seiko from ‘alien service worker’ into ‘acceptable stranger on my porch.’

She started chatting, about the weather, about the Chicago Cubs (Annalise liked them for some reason), about the neighborhood and what size dog was ideal. Seiko said the bigger the dog the better, Annalise thought that if it couldn’t fit in a children’s swing it was too big.

Seiko started to worry more, that Annalise wasn’t allowed to play in the snow, that she wasn’t allowed to lose things. That she wasn’t outside anymore.

There wasn’t much she could do though and worrying didn’t stop time from passing like slowly dripping candle wax. Winter turned to spring and Seiko cut her hair again as her graduated into 6th grade, she was starting to like the short look.

“So you’re going to ‘Elmswood’,” Annalise said one day, bits of summer sun streaking across her cheek and eyes unreadable.

“Sure,” Seiko shrugged, “I mean, I think the soccer team will be cool and they have an actual film club instead of just one kid running a movie review column in the school paper.” “So?” Annalise still seemed bemused by everything about her.

“Plus, I mean, it’ll be nice,” Seiko put her hands in her pockets, “Maybe I can start over, ya know? Most the kids in my class won’t be going there,” she stood all the way up, “I’ll be the cool new kid.” Annalise somehow gave her an even more bemused look, “Are you not cool?” She asked dryly.

Seiko stuck her tongue out, “… not cool cool. People like Liza are cool,” she paused for a long second, frowning, then looked up again, “but I feel like me and Liza could really click next year if I go.” Annalise leaned back on her heels, “Be careful Seiko,” she said, her voice dull, flat, and fluttering out of her lips. “Girls like her may be just as the seem and nothing more.” “What?” She made a face, “What? They seem really cool and are?” Seiko just snorted, “You should get out more…” She took a step forward, hunching her shoulders slowly, “you could come too. Maybe you’d actually like it.” Annalise shook her head, as if breaking out of a daze. “Where?” “Elmswood,” she said simply, “I mean, June is going too. Who is the worst and won’t stop bringing up every embarrassing thing that’s ever happened, but it’s fine. We could gang up against her.” She gave a devilish grin, “You could tell her some bogus fortune like her life line has a huge rude gorilla in her future.” Annalise frowned deeply and looked down at her knees, “I can’t.” She said simply, “I do school here.” “But-” “I can’t.” She said sternly and took her newspaper inside without another word.

The conversation ended for that day.

—————–

Time seemed so slow when she was young, but it passed just as it always did: one drop at a time. She graduated elementary school, spent a summer lazing around the pool and trying out things like rollerblading and science camp. She scraped her knees at both and said she wasn’t ever going back.

Her uncle gave her a cheap camera to take videos on, it was better than her phone and she became obsessed with dressing her sister up and filming her destroying cereal-box cities.

She kept her delivery route, Bobby quit that year and Seiko got a raise, she kept attending monthly pizza nights. Mr. Simmons added brownies to the meal, he winked and said ‘not the type you kids like though.’ He was still somehow convinced they were preteens with a thing for weed.

Seiko felt like she knew everything and absolutely nothing.

Liza Mayweather seemed excited to start Elmswood with her, Seiko didn’t know what to make of that. She entered Middle School with new ripped jeans, a skrillex t-shirt, and knock-off vans, sick with excitement, but fall soon sunk into normalcy.

She was the worst player on the soccer team, but they gave her the job of taking videos for the games, she started editing them to Queen songs and shatter sound effects. The girls laughed themselves silly when she added fake bloopers and ‘mm whatya say’ whenever they missed a goal.

Her sister turned 3 and her mother fretted about her speaking properly and walking and potty-training and everything she could fret about. Kingsley wrote Seiko a heavily worded text about not spending enough time together and ‘forgetting him.’ Seiko broke out the ‘super pinky promise’ to assure him they weren’t going anywhere. She got a hairline fracture on her wrist from a bike crash.

She wore a helmet after that.

Annalise, Annalise remained the same. A picture on her porch, in a variety of pajamas and flat expressions, sometimes she showed her new earrings or a good book she read.

Sometimes Annalise started speaking so quickly and emphatically that Seiko couldn’t stop her, like an overflowing dam. Sometimes she barely said anything at all, dark sleepless bruises under her eyes and something bumpy under her words.

“Are you writing on yourself?” Seiko pointed out one day, looking at a few words printed over Annalise wrist, inky and precise, Annalise quickly left after that.

She was still a strange girl in a strange house. And it didn’t change.

——————

Seiko was 13, it was the second semester of 7th grade. She was breaking out on her chin, sweating through her shirts, and wearing lumpy sports bras that made her feel like a padded grandma. She had refused to let the fitting-room lady measure her so she just guessed her size and fled like The Other Man out of his lover’s bedroom window.

Her mother gave her the longest lecture of her life about periods and babies, Seiko turned two shades of green and swore up and down that this didn’t have anything to do with her. Her mom gave a tampon demonstration.

Liza got a boyfriend. No one else did.

And something changed.

Seiko’s mom said she was getting too old for paper routes, but Seiko kept on, she knew the way, she knew the drill, it was fine money. June quit the paper route that year, so it was just her, Katy, and all the new kids they started to ignore.

And something changed.

It was spring, smelling green and loud and filled with a type of hope that carried on with arbitrary spinning of the world into the sun. Seiko had a history report due and a split-lip from a soccer ball to the face, she barely looked at the houses she delivered to anymore.

Annalise was standing at the edge of her porch, an enormous smile spread across her usually grim features. She waved excitedly when Seiko arrived.

“Come come,” she leaned forward on her tiptoes and gestured, “Come up, I have news.” Seiko raised her eyebrows, “Oh?” Annalise bounced in place, she seemed more full today, like the light had been pumped back into her. Seiko reached the side of the porch, Annalise clapped her hands together, “I got your friend in.” She burst out like a party popper, like Seiko would know what that meant. Seiko tried to smile back, “You got my… friend in?” She wracked her brain for what that could mean.

Annalise visibly sagged, “You don’t remember.” Seiko put her hands up, “No, no, just… jog my memory maybe?” Annalise gave a forceful sigh, “You don’t remember.” It looked like an out-and-out pout.

Seiko leaned on the side of the porch, “Tell me about,” she grinned and rose up toward Annalise, “kids these days, amiright? Can’t remember a thing without smartphones.”

Annalise gave a quick smile and then trained herself back into a pout, “You’re the one that told me about her.” She folded her arms over her chest.

Annalise blinked a couple times, “Who?” She couldn’t even place a name.

“Katy Mendoza!” She said clippedly, “You had me dig up all her letters years ago.” Seiko’s mouth fell open, “You actually looked for them?” “Of course I did,” Annalise defended, lifting her chin up and looking away, “no faith.” Seiko lit up, “You actually looked for them!”

Annalise huffed, “All for nothing it seems.” “No, no,” she tossed the paper on their doorstep to pay proper attention to Annalise, “You, you got her a spot?” Annalise grew a slim smile, almost sly. “It took awhile. My mom has a long waiting list, but, well,” she puffed up, “That girl kept sending letters and I kept putting them at top of the stack.” She grinned widely, “It finally paid off.” “Wow!” Annalise clapped, she hadn’t talked to Katy in three weeks, but still. “Woah, that’s so cool! You made it happen.” Annalise fluffed her hair, “Of course I did.” They both laughed and spring seemed more spring than it did before. “Watch tonight,” Annalise beamed, chest puffed out. “Yeah, of course,” Seiko nodded so hard she thinks pez candies might start shooting of out her neck, “I will!”

Annalise seemed to have a long memory, longer than hers, and she preened like a shiny hen at a peacock competition.

—————–

Seiko was 13 and lying on her stomach in front of the TV. They had gotten more channels in the last few years, her little sister liked PBS and their mom compromised.

“Don’t forget,” her mom called from the kitchen, “it’s your night to put the dishes away.” “I know mom,” she called back, “It’s just a half-hour program.” Her mom walked back and forth between rooms, “And put away your cleats.” “I already did!” “Then what did I just step on in the hallway?” They were still in the same smarmy small apartment.

“Ugh,” Seiko quickly got to her feet and rushed to put her cleats back in her room, just as the psychic’s jingle came on.

‘Your future is waiting, your future is written. Sit down with Madame Lynn and hear the infinite.’

It reminded her of a slightly more-spooky car sales jingle.

“Are you really watching this?” Her mom stood on the cusp of the living room, taking the time to stop and comment.

“A friend is on.” Katy had almost fainted when she was told she would actually be on TV. That she would find out about her love line, solve her heart’s sickness and find out the truth- apparently she had never given up on that.

Seiko placed herself in front of the screen, propped up and focused. Rei sat in the other room  and audibly baballed a very long story to their father about animals and bugs she had recently seen. Her father clapped along at every other full sentence and Seiko turned the volume up.

The stage was brightly lit and a dark velvet screen filled the background, a single plain table sat in the center of the space, it was covered in a red cloth decorated with various symbols. She recognized some of them as Kanji and even hindu script, Seiko snorted at that.

The unseen announcer reminded her the show was filmed in front of a live audience. The town of Rogers was waiting.

A woman walked on, she was tall and upright and slightly ‘handsome’ if you would use that word. She wore a long burnt-orange silk scarf around her black hair, enormous round glasses, and a deep maroon shawl around her thin shoulders. Seiko had seen her around on local signs and a couple video clips, but it had never occurred to her that this woman didn’t look terribly like Annalise.

Her complexion was darker (which wasn’t hard), her eyes were deeper set in her face and features pasted on at different mismatching angles. She looked like a collaborative art piece from college students whereas Annalise reminded her of a classical European painting.

Though, of course, Madame Lynne’s entire demeanor and disjointed look fit her persona, the smalltown psychic with otherworldly powers. Despite the cheesy effects, numerous gaudy bangles, and over-the-top opera gloves she wore, Seiko could see why people thought she was a witch.

She carried herself like that, like some other strange force swept across the stage, swaying and stalking over like a suave cat.

“She’s such a hack,” Seiko’s mom tutted from the background. “I’ve seen those tarot card she uses online. They aren’t even an original set.”

“Sshhush,” Seiko waved her hand through the air frantically, “it’s about to start.” Her mom just humphed but didn’t move to leave.

Madame Lynne looked directly at the camera as she spoke, solid and imposing. That part reminded her of Annalise at least. “We have a special guest tonight, an anxious soul in need,” Madame Lynne’s ghostly voice rang out, enrapturing and deep. “A young woman with woes and a heart full to bursting. Her path ahead is uncertain and she has come to us for counsel, a dedicated fan and Rogers local, please welcome Katy Mendoza!”

Katy walked onto stage with her huge eyes and quivering lips and mousy nose, she looked just as unsure of herself on TV as she did everywhere else. She picked her way across the stage and took her time sitting down, trembling slightly.

“I’m such a big fan of yours Madame Lynne,” she whispered in her cricket voice, the microphone had been placed extra high on her collar. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

“I’m sure my dear,” she patted her hand warmly, “I’m happy to help.” The show preceded much as Seiko assumed it would. Katy gushed to the psychic, explaining her heart’s dilemma: that no one had ever like her, that she was too ugly and shy and would never find love.

Madame Lynne assured her that she was lovely and that anyone who valued her outsides more than her insides weren’t worth her time. Seiko liked that part, Katy brimmed with some fragile hope and a watery heartfelt smile played across her face whenever Madame Lynne spoke. That was something.

And then they got to the reading.

Seiko understood very little of it, she had gone through a brief witch phase herself but most of it had been reading about the occult and trying to summon cthulhu. She hadn’t gotten to tarot.

Madame Lynne brought out her stack of shiny golden cards and shuffled them in place, her long fingers quick and fastidious, almost mesmerizing as she began to hum. This was the pinnacle of the whole show, Seiko watched in a trance.

Katy drew six cards and Madame Lynne placed them out across the table methodically, explaining each card’s meaning in relation to Katy’s past and present. Seiko glazed over during this part, most of it she already knew: a controlling father, several nervous habits, a desperate wish for confidence. Seiko understood. However, Katy started weeping when she pulled out the sixth card and final card, it was revealed to be the ten of pentacles.

“It’s certain,” Madame Lynne held her hands and patted the top, “This reading is clear: true love is certain.”

Katy let out a hiccuping sob and wiped at her eyes, Seiko smiled a real smile for the other girl instead of rolling her eyes. Love wasn’t exactly on Seiko’s ‘important things’ list, but this felt like something else.

“Will I have kids?” Katy asked next in a small voice, “And a house with a yard? For my daughter to run around in.” Madame Lynne blinked a couple times, confused for a moment, then probably broke some sort of rule and held out the cards once more, “Let’s find out. Hold your question clearly in your mind and pick another.” Katy bit her lip, concentrating for a full minute, she drew a seventh card. It had a shimmery large wheel in the center, someone in the audience gasped. It was the wheel of fortune, Madame Lynne frowned, “It is uncertain.” “Oh…” Katy hung her head, face falling.

“But don’t fret young dear,” Madame Lynne reassured, “your future is your own. If you want a daughter, you may certainly still have one.” Katy looked back at Madame Lynne, fixedly, worshipfully. Seiko had an odd feeling about this.

“Did it work out for you Madame, do you have any kids?” She asked earnestly. Seiko’s mouth fell open, no doubt Katy remembered the conversation they had all those years ago. “Did you want them too?” Madame faltered for the first time that night, a sudden slippage of her expression and poise, heavy brow furrowing. “Well,” she folded her hands in the lap and then reverted to calm smile, maternal even. “Yes, how perceptive you are. I also wanted a daughter, much like you.” She leaned over to pet Katy’s hair, Katy leaned into it.

“And you got her? It worked out.” Katy nodded as if that answered everything. Madame Lynne gave a heavy sigh, “You’re future is your own, young one.” She said slowly, “But it was not to be for me. I wanted a daughter, yes, but I’m afraid it never materialized in my fortunes. My flock are my children now.” Seiko froze in place, didn’t have a daughter? Why would she say that? Of course she had a daughter, Seiko had been chatting with every week since she was 10.

“But I thought… you had one?” Katy seemed confused, a murmur went through the crowd, something was off.

Seiko’s eyes bulged at the whole affair, Madame Lynne looked dead into the camera, cutting and direct, somehow loaded. “I’m not sure where you got that idea…” Seiko’s heart dropped, she breathed in through her nose and felt somewhat chilled. What did that even mean? Why would Madame Lynne not acknowledge Annalise? Seiko’s head spun and she quickly turned off the TV, not even finishing the program. Something was off.

—————–

Seiko reluctantly approached the wedding-cake house the next day, feet scraping against the pavement and path zig-zagging. She’d chosen not to ride her bike that day, even if walking was the equivalent of taking a rowboat when a speedboat was available.

I don’t have a daughter.

Seiko still had no idea what that meant. Was Madame Lynne hiding her? Was Seiko mistaken about the house? Had she been seeing things?

Seiko had a couple new things in her search history, such as ‘Signs You Are Actually Communing with the Dead’ and ‘How Good is Recent Hologram Technology?’ She almost asked her mom if she had ever had vivid hallucinations growing up.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

She took her time unlatching the large iron gate and closing it behind her, sneaking onto the property with light feet. She kept her eyes trained on the stoic grey house as she approached. There was no one outside that morning, no one in sight at all, that was very very out of the ordinary.

Seiko’s shoulders rose like the haunches of spooked cats, she drew closer sluggishly, had something gone wrong? She made it to the front porch and slid the newspaper toward the door in the way a blackjack dealer slides cards to players about to bust. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the door finally swung open, Annalise hurried out onto the porch as usual, cheeks slightly flushed.

“There you are,” She blinked a couple times.

“Annalise!” Seiko clutched her heart as the other girl appeared.

Annalise just leaned over the porch, “Did you see the show last night?” “I-I did,” Seiko bit her lip, fishing for the words to say next. Your mother tells people you don’t exist. That seemed like a bad place to start.

“I hope you liked it.” Another voice input from behind the doorway, deep and direct. If seeing Annalise that morning was disconcerting, seeing Madame Lynne hovering behind her in the doorway was even more so. She was wearing a deep blue bathrobe, a towel over her black hair and several fat rings on her fingers, her makeup was gone and so were her huge glasses.

She seemed plain now, no less spooky and uncanny, but more simple. She frowned slightly and fixed Seiko with a hard look, Seiko squirmed in place.

“Here’s your paper ma’am!” She shoved the power toward the woman. “I hope you’re having a good morning.” She was suddenly sure she was sweating through her lumpy sports bra.

“Indeed,” Madame Lynne’s lip curled back, brown eyes narrowing. Annalise stood uncomfortably between them as they exchanged a charged look. “I’m glad my daughter has friends.” Seiko blinked blankly at that, the back of her neck prickling.

“But, please, be mindful.” Madame Lynne put one bony hand on Annalise’s cheek, dragging her fingers down in a caress. “She’s my only daughter and I treasure her, her constitution is… weak.” Madame Lynne pursed her lips, “And we are a private family.” The older woman seemed to be nudging at something Seiko didn’t quite grasp, Seiko kept meeting her gaze and looking sheepishly away again. “I… I understand.” She didn’t understand. “Good,” Madame Lynne straightened up, “I hope you won’t go spreading any rumors then our little paper girl.” She smiled toothily, “Apparently the town already thinks I’m a witch. And a bad one at that!” She laughed richly and Seiko tried to join in.

“They do say… silly things.” Seiko was starting to suspect this woman was a witch.

“We’ll have to see you tomorrow then Seiko,” Madame Lynne reached for the door, “Say goodbye now Annalise.” Annalise waved limply, looking rather off-put. “See you Seiko.” Seiko waved back, wondering if she should mouth something or break into interpretive dance, but the door swung shut and Seiko was left there- confused and little taken back.

We’re a private family.

Seiko still had questions.

—————–

Madame Lynne chaperoned their conversations from then on, showing up at the door in her  lofty imperial bathrobe and lingering just behind Annalise. Seiko had no idea why.

Their conversations became a lot more bland and short, about the weather or the morning headline or even schoolwork of all things. Annalise was learning advanced algebra apparently, because of course she was.

Madame Lynne took up a lot of the space.

‘I hear you’re on the soccer team Seiko.’

‘I hear you struggle in social studies, perhaps give this book a try…’

‘I hear you like movies.’

Like, yes? Of course she liked movies. Seiko barely had any proper answers, it felt like she was filling in multiple choice bubbles and it kept coming up red ink. She fumbled through nonetheless and then left. Somedays Annalise didn’t speak at all.

—————

Time slipped by, Seiko got caught up in school drama, after school practice, and her little sister’s new nightmares about a jello monster that lived under their carpet.

She was 14 and in the last year of Middle School, she already knew she was going to Dale High school with all the other Elmswood students this time.

It was the tailend of winter, a grey day, grey and quiet and her feet crunched through the two inches of snow with every step. She was no longer ten and filled with bustling excitement, she was used to waking up at 5am, but that didn’t mean she liked it anymore.

Seiko yawned with enough force to suck in a small planet and barely noticed where she threw the newspapers anymore. Her aim was good enough, but they usually bounced and it was up to God and Jesus Christ where they landed after that.

She yawned again and checked her cellphone. Maria was mad at Cynthia for talking to her boyfriend last night after the game, but it’s not like Cynthia started it. He talked to her first and she was just laughing at his jokes to be polite.

The group chat went on and on, Seiko wished they could just go back to sending memes and silly pictures of their coach. But Cynthia had apparently also tugged on Matt’s sleeve and put a hand on his chest, people were taking sides.

Seiko was caught up in the drama of the little team when she reached the wedding-cake house. It was empty that morning and Seiko frowned, preparing herself for another brief ‘mom conversation.’

She reached the door and put the paper neatly down, raising her eyebrows when no one greeted her at all, all the lights were off. She took a second to dawdle and stand there. This was different.

She was about to turn around and stomp her way to the next house when the door finally swung open.

“Good morning,” Madame Lynne stood in the doorway, black bangs loose and smile plastered across her face unevenly. “Annalise is sick this morning, but she sends her regards.” Seiko just nodded, bobbing her head a bit to try and see past Madame Lynne, someone was standing on the stairs. Madame Lynne took a step to block her view.

“Have a nice day now Seiko.” Seiko shifted again, the figure on the stairs shifted as well, a pair of pale legs came into view. They looked off- dented, shadowed, Madame Lynne raised her arms up, the wings of bathrobe block the whole view.

“Yes ma’am,” she finally said, “Tell Annalise to get better soo-” The door closed in her face before she even finished the sentence. There were quick footsteps from inside but nothing more.

Seiko sniffed loudly and turned. She was thinking of quitting her paper route.

She was almost in high school after all.

She didn’t see Annalise after that.

————–

“You’re turning fifteen,” her mom was folding laundry on the couch. “You’ll need a real job this summer.” “I have a real job mom, I get tips.” Seiko folded her socks haphazardly and then moved onto the next pair. “And I told you, I don’t know.” “Don’t know what?” Her mom frowned sourly, “That bike of yours is rusting and your father is too old to keep repairing it for you.” Seiko rolled her eyes, “I walk most days now anyway.” She shook her head.

“Well,” her mom hummed loudly, “Why walk when you could drive?” Seiko sat all the up, hands falling down to her lap as her mom said it. “Seriously?” Her face lit up, “It’s time? You’ll teach me?” Seiko’s parents hadn’t mentioned anything about her driving yet, even as all the other kids started to get lessons.

Her mom tilted her chin up proudly, “Driving is a privilege,” Seiko vibrated in place at that, “And for girls who need to get places. Such as to real jobs. Did you know my friend at the grocery store is hiring?” Seiko just nodded emphatically, “Awesome! Yes.”

She would be in high school in just one month, Seiko decided she needed a cooler persona beyond ‘delivery girl who owned a camera and sucked at soccer.’ Now she could be the girl who drove her parents 1999 beat-up corolla.

Or at the very least didn’t bike to school every day.

——————-

“Yes, ma’am, this is my last day.” Seiko gave her most winning smile to old Mrs. Hankla, the paperbag-textured woman humphed, frowned, and told her to wait there a moment. Mrs. Hankla put down her watering hose and went inside without turning it off. She came back outside with a twenty.

“Buy yourself something nice,” Mrs. Hankla seemed to swat the air in front of her and handed the bill over, “and don’t go spending it on candy and chocolates for some boy. That’s how they get ‘ya.”

“Oh yeah, I hear you,” Seiko laughed and pocketed the money as she was on her way. “Thanks Miss H!” She called, “Look after Nooky for me.” The woman just grunted in reply and it was like every other morning, but now she had a twenty.

A surprising number of people were up and about that morning, preening their lawns, checking their mail languidly, and stretching for a morning run. It was one of the last weeks of summer and everyone from sports nuts to grumpy dads in nothing but boxer shorts were enjoying the final days of truly delicious sunshine.

Seiko even had a little hop in her step, it was her last round ever and her first job really had treated her well. Even if she had become later and later with each year, did people really need their papers at 6am sharp? Not according to her they didn’t.

Seiko climbed the small hill and tried not to think about the middle house on Townshend street. The one that looked like a wedding cake.

It’s just another house, she told herself carefully. It’s not even goodbye forever.

She opened the fairygate slowly and carefully made her way up, the white doors were closed with no one there to greet her. But that had become normal.

Seiko placed the paper down and lingered at the door for another moment, was it rude to knock? Was it more rude to not tell them? She impulsively reached out, “Hi Lynne’s!” She knocked three times, “I just wanted to tell you, this is my last day.” She nodded at herself, “It’s been nice being your paper girl! Our talks have been nice, I mean, I hope… well I hope you have a nice day! Tell Annalise…” She petered out, she didn’t know what to tell Annalise. I hope you find a way out of this house? I hope one day you look a little less lonely? Someone cares about you?

Her heart sank, she couldn’t say that.

“Bye!” She finished lamely and turned to leave, squishing down any lingering emotions of what this would mean. She quickly skid down the driveway and back toward the road, she had her rounds to finish.

Seiko half-expected the door to open or a voice to call after her at the last second, nothing but silence and bird calls chased her down the road and around the corner.

Seiko finished delivering her last paper and loitered at the end of Greenbriar, taking one last look at her old stomping grounds. She turned her phone camera around: very last day at my childhood job!! She captioned a snapchat with her empty bag and threw up a peace sign for the hell of it.

That’s when a series of hurried footsteps thumped down the sidewalk, clumsy and stumbling on the pavement. Seiko whipped around to see a young woman in soft white pants and an overly-large apricot sweater standing there. Seiko jammed her phone in her pocket and stood up straight.

Her curls were longer, softly falling past her shoulders and down her back, she was taller as well, taller than Seiko by then. Puberty had seemed to hit her like a lovers kiss, all sweet clean skin and swan-length limbs. Brushstrokes of youth whereas Seiko felt like puberty had swung at her wildly with a baseball bat: all hairy legs and spotty acne and terrifying vivid red dreams you couldn’t repeat to anyone.

Seiko’s mouth was hanging open as she took Annalise in, she tried to stifle her thoughts before they even began, seeing the young woman out in full sunlight, breathless and reaching for her. Lovely as any dream Seiko had ever had.

Seiko swallowed in the way you choke down medication with a swollen throat.

“Don’t go,” Annalise’s dark blue eyes were huge and searching, she panted, “Don’t go.” Seiko sucked in a breath and dashed back up the street, “Annalise,” she smiled widely, pausing just in front of her, “it’s weird to see you not on your porch. How are you feeling? I haven’t… seen you in awhile.”

Annalise just shook her head, “don’t say this your last day.” Her voice sounded wet with emotion and she pawed at her face forcefully, though it didn’t look like there were any tears there.

Seiko’s shoulders relaxed and she smiled faintly, “Sorry,” she swallowed, “I need a different job and this one… doesn’t really fit anymore.” Annalise shook her head more vigorously, pressing her lips together tight as an angry iron line. “It was,” she whispered, “I waited for you every day. It was the best part of my day.”

Seiko’s chest tightened, a pain shooting through her upper body. I know you were lonely.

She rubbed her shoulder, “Why don’t I come visit? Or better yet, let’s hang out sometime, like, I dunno, get pizza or walk to the park or go swimming-” “My mom wouldn’t allow it,” Annalise was pawing at her face again, hiccuping. “She thinks I’m not ready.” Seiko frowned decidedly, she touched the other girl’s wrist, it was dry and rough. “Annalise,” she said seriously, “Is there something you’re not telling me? Is your mother,” she looked around and leaned in, whispering between them, “Trapping you in there? Are you okay?” Annalise’s bottom lip trembled, “It’s not like that. You wouldn’t understand,” she took a step back, “I don’t like to go out.”

“I know,” Seiko’s brow folded in, “But, I mean, we could still be friends! Let’s try and f-” “Annalise!” A voice carried down the street and both their heads jerk up, a woman in a long sweeping robe and strappy heels was running down the sidewalk. “What are you doing? Look at the sun coming up, are you even wearing sunscreen?” Annalise scowled back at her, “Here.” She turned back to Seiko, “You forgot this.” She slipped a wad of cash into Seiko’s hands and Seiko just blinked, she looked back up, “Wait.” She said thinly, “We need to talk. I can help you, I can do something.” “My mom is coming,” Annalise turned, “Thank you Seiko. Thank you for everything.” Her words were heavy and brimming with other unsaid things. But just like that Annalise was jogging back to her mom, calling out tersely. “I’m fine Catherine.” She seemed to snap, “See? No damages, God, you’re so dramatic.” Seiko watched the interaction mutely, trying to piece together whatever that all meant. Would a trapped girl talk to her mother like that? Would an abused girl simply leave again? Annalise took her mom’s hand and they walk back toward their house hand in hand, Madame Lynne didn’t even spare a glance for Seiko. It was Seiko’s last day after all and she’d be gone like a coins into a Las Vegas slot machine.

When Seiko looked down at the money in her hand there was a small slip of paper as well: a note written in neat fine handwriting.

[email protected] – write me.

Seiko blinked at the message for a long few seconds, “unicorn… stormbringer?” She broke into a smile and something jumbled in her chest like elegantly tossed puzzle pieces. She had gotten an email.

——————-

Dear Annalise, So… about that email address. Where exactly are you hiding your horn? And are you always summoning storms or just when you’re in a bad mood? Did that address come with glitter and like, rainbow stickers?

Kidding.

Are you alright though? Do you need anything? From,

Your delivery girl

She got a response back right away.

Dear Delivery girl,

Haha. For one thing, I needed something my mom would never guess- and for another I just needed any email at all, it seemed like a good idea when I was 12.

How is ‘lucyliusloveinterest’ any better?? And who is Lucy Lui? No, no, I’m fine. My mother is just overprotective, it’s complicated, don’t worry about me.

How was your day? I stopped getting a lot of updates from you, you’re going to high school soon, right? How was graduation? How was the soccer season? From,

Your Least Favorite Former Unicorn Enthusiast

Seiko grinned to herself and started typing away, she imagined she was a 19th century working girl keeping correspondence with an old-fashioned bedridden rich socialite. You know, instead of texting like normal people.

Dear Unicorn Salivator,

For one, the fact you never leave your house is no excuse for not knowing Lucy Liu, for shame!! (Elementary? Charlie’s Angels?? )

The address is an inside joke from a rather out of control sleepover. I’ll never live it down, but I will make a joke email around it! Haha, nothing serious, just a lifetime of embarrassment nbd

Day was fine, graduation was pretty awesome, I got my picture in the yearbook TWICE, one for jump-high fiving the mascot and the other for a gatorade incident. Soccer kind of sucked, too much drama and our coach wanted us to get ‘serious,’ whatever that means.

We got to state tho, then immediately knocked out of state, figures

I might not do it next year, but Liza says practice will suck without me and that I can’t leave her, maybe it will be different in High School, so I guess I’ll endure. I GUESS

High school is gonna be hella different tho, I swear, I’m buying an electric scooter (eventually) and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna ace social studies for once, go to a few dances, maybe break an arm and get everyone to sign the cast, move to Peru and open a coffee shop, you know

How are you? Your mom see my future recently? Read any good books? Come get pizza with us some time, I promise that public school kids don’t bite

Yours,

Soccer Dud, High School Stud

Dear Dud,

Sorry, pizza sounds lovely, but it will have to wait for later.

As for the soccer, I have to say…

——–

High school passed rotely: a series of highs and lows, almost failing math for a hot second, quitting the soccer team, rejoining the soccer team, getting the flu, getting ask out- turning down someone for the first time. And emails. Lots of emails.

Seiko had no idea how she could write paragraphs on paragraphs to a girl she had known for only minutes at a time in middle school. But maybe it made sense, maybe Seiko wanted it to make sense.

Why does her mother keep her indoors? Was any of it okay?

The emails became a constant in her life as the first year of high school dragged on.

Dear Dior Heathen (who God hath abandoned),

Uuuugh, my mom is bugging me so much recently. She’s obsessed with Rei and her elementary school play, but barely remembers to even take me out to drive. It’s always ‘wait your turn Seiko’ and ‘talk to your dad about it.’ He’s such a space case when I do, he keeps pretending to lose the car keys and makes a big deal of it (or he’s not pretending??).

This whole semester is screwed, high school is the worst Annalise, I’m so jealous of you being homeschooled.

The video and film club keep outvoting me for what short film we make, no one wants to do my alien thriller murder project. NO TASTE. June’s in that club. Did I mention June? We used to do paper delivery stuff together

She’s the worst. And she keeps wanting to do this romcom she wrote!! It’s based off her dumb supernatural fanfiction- I swear to God it is. She’s only a sophomore, but claims to have the most ‘seniority.’ She’s also in the lbgt+ club and says that also makes her ‘the authority on art,’ whatever that means, and she keeps trying to get me to join >:(((

For the record, JUST BECAUSE I HAVE SHORT HAIR AND PLAY SOCCER DOESN’T MEAN ANYTHING!! She’s so pushy, and presumptuous!! dating is like… the last thing on my mind

Hbu? You finish that book about the secret life of trees? Do they do anything spicy, like squirrel espionage? Tree murder plots? Huh?

OR how about… your LOVE LIFE? Your mom’s new ‘Loves Fortune’ show is all the rage at school, tell me she’s at least tried to read your future and it’s like… a horse (unicorn maybe, hmm?) husband. Or probably a lesser nobility of a small country, aim high A!!

Anyway, gotta go count my $$$, I want to go to movies this weekend and I didn’t get that grocery store job (since no one will teach me to drive!!) and I’m still living off my paper route money. THE CRUELTY OF IT ALL *this is where I swoon and fall to the ground, I can’t go to the movies, people are weeping, Mr. Dior is there, he tells me I am terribly unfashionable*

Yours,

Your Impoverished Vehicle-less Friend

Dear Marooned Stranger,

You poor dear, I wonder what it’s like to not be able to go anywhere (*she loudly coughs into her hand*). I wouldn’t be too jealous of being homeschooled dear, it gets rather… suffocating to be honest. Involving many rules and worksheets and sorting through her vast collection of dusty tomes and ‘elixirs,’ Catherine is going from overbearing to class A-hysteric.

Everything worries her lately! At least her new show keeps her busy, out more, trust me, it’s a nice breather.

You claim to not have dating on your mind, but this is the third time you’ve asked me about a love life who do you think I’m going to meet all the way up in my room? The new delivery boy doesn’t even smile and the birds outside my window are assholes, no one likes an early-morning screamer.

So no. No love life.

But I wouldn’t be so close-minded of that club if I were you! I was reading ‘Odd Girls and Twilight Lovers’ for my social studies curriculum and it was truly fascinating. I know you never read my recommended books, but give it a try.Who knows, maybe you can usurp June at her club! Viva la non-pushy girls ;).

Also, remind me of when your birthday is. I want to send you something.

Yours,

Loveless in Confinement

Dear Inmate,

Sucks to be yoooooouuuu. Haha, but I’m serious, for real, for really serious. Break out. She can’t keep you there forever!! What are you, almost 16? Let’s go out, get a milkshake, knock over a trash can, break loose

Hell, we could go to a ‘scene,’ Kingsley invited me to one of those recently

He’s into ‘scenes’ now, and smoking apparently which is really gross but his mom says he’s just ‘experimenting.’ I hope she doesn’t think his new boyfriend is just an experiment too (see?? I’m not close-minded, my friend from elementary school is gay. So there). I haven’t seen him in awhile so it will be like a big ‘ol reunion

Also, sorry bb but you already missed my bday, it’s November 15th and it’s almost April lol. But you have to come to my next one!! The big 1 and 6, hopefully I’ll finally be able to drive by then, if the lord deigns to bless me with any indulgences at all adkfjagjgp

You can still send me a present tho!! I accept late-work, no points taken off :3c

I’ll try usurping June too, maybe not at her tiny lbtq club but I WILL have my alien-thriller-murder movie come to life!!

Liza keeps asking me about film club, I think she can tell my heart is like not into soccer at all at the moment. I dunno, I keep thinking we’ll drift apart after middle school but every time I think about like, not seeing her, or not talking to her, it just sucks. You know? Really sucks

Ugh, June would throw a big ‘I told you so’ party if she saw me writing that, and then I’d have to smack her haha

I’m serious about you getting out of there tho, I’m real about it, we should stop talking about it and just do it, you know?

If you do want some outside-time meet me next Friday, at the end of Greenbriar by the entrance sign, I’ll wear my neon green windbreaker so you can recognize me (and since it’s an AMAZING jacket and NOT an eyesore like my mom says). At 7, k?

We’ll do whatever.

Anyway, yours,

Your Sucker-Punching Sad Sap of a Friend

(Outside Greenbriar!! 7, don’t tell your mom or anything haha, I’ll get you home before 10 promise)

Dear Seiko,

I’d like that. I’d really really like that.

I’ll bring your present then, by the sign, 7 O’clock , I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.

Yours,

Annalise

—————

Seiko stood in the gentle spring air, the last rays of the sun bleaching across the land, shining in between the houses and warming the back of her neck. She took deep even breaths.

She was wearing her neon green windbreaker, holding a stuffed unicorn toy, and wearing her hair up in the shortest ponytail this side of Chicago. Maybe if she pretended to have long hair her heart wouldn’t beat so fast. Like hummingbirds caught in a wind turbine.

It’s just hanging out, she hunched her shoulders over. It’s just a silly toy I got her.

Freshmen year of highschool hadn’t gone like she expected. Sure, she had gotten ‘involved,’ made some friends and lost some, but she wasn’t popular and she wasn’t ‘taking the town.’ She didn’t really feel like anything at all. She was still just the girl making video edits with cartoon sound effects and photoshopping wiener dog faces over the woodshop teachers face.

She was still just Seiko.

Her mom wanted her to get a proper job again or she wasn’t affording new shoes for next year, she wanted her to quit soccer, Seiko wanted to quit soccer, Seiko couldn’t quit soccer. She kept looking at Liza and feeling some tasteless, nameless thing she pushed down like drowning a first born son in a bathtub.

But this wasn’t nameless. It was Seiko holding a stuffed animal around the neck and swaying back and forth in the warm breeze. It was Seiko checking her phone’s clock, again and again.

She had put on mascara, she had put on lip gloss. Ten minutes passed.

She had walked there so she wouldn’t sweat on a bike ride over. Twenty minutes passed.

She thought out what she wanted to say over and over, a simple ‘hey, you look nice.’ Thirty minutes passed.

She bought a purple and white unicorn with a sparkly horn for fifteen bucks. She waited fifty minutes.

Seiko’s arms fell to her side, she waited an entire hour for someone in a pretty white dress and expensive earrings and angry little face to show up. No one showed.

————–

From: [email protected]

Where were you? Get busted by the man on your way out? Get cold feet? Lmk, either way I’m sending you 4 videos, 3 are cute dog videos you WILL enjoy and 1 is Rick Astley. Choose wisely. *saw music plays*

1, 2, 3, 4

Yours,

I’ll be real with you, Im a little pissed

PS I hope you’re okay.

Seiko never got a reply. She didn’t get anything at all, no matter how many follow up emails she sent, no matter how many ‘just write me that you’re okay. And not trapped in a dungeon somewhere.’

‘Just write me one letter, if it’s the letter ‘c’ I’ll come get you.’

‘Just send me some smoke signals, I’ll look to the western sky’

‘Just write me at all.’

‘Annalise…?’

————

Seiko visited Annalise’s house. Something had to be done, it was the middle of the day a week later, she waited ten minutes on the sidewalk, just watching the house. She saw a blond head in the first-story window.

Seiko waved forcefully, gesturing for her to come outside- come away with her, Annalise’s head turned and their eyes met. Seiko beamed, but Annalise gave her a neutral look, all placid eyes and an uninterested twitch of her lip.

Annalise looked away after that. Simply turned her head and looked the other direction. Seiko waited another minute, but Annalise never came out to greet her.

Seiko stared at her shoes, took a deep gulping breath, and went home the long way. The way that made her legs ache and her eyes sting a little less in the night air.

—————-

Seiko was 16. It was the week of her birthday, Seiko was 16 and she couldn’t tell if she was at the top of the world or buried under a hundred pounds of dirt.

“Just come,” she heard the voice of her friend Kingsley on the phone, “One night, it’s your birthday weekend, spend it with people who like you instead of all those hetero soccer girls who put your bra in the freezer last year.” Seiko rolled her eyes, “That was just a stupid prank and they already took me to Denny’s this week on my actual birthday, bought me every flavor of pancake for your information. It was cool.” She flinched at the memory of the cold ice on her chest, but she pushed it back down. She had laughed that all off. “And what if they figure out the IDs are fake? My mom would kill me for even thinking the words ‘fake ID.’”

“Tres Beaut doesn’t even card before 11 and I know a guy,” Kingsley explained slowly, “Sei, I invited people from your school too, Liza something- you like her, right? You gotta come. What happened to that ‘fuck the man’ spirit? You’re the one that made me watch the Breakfast Club when we were ten.” Seiko gave a brief laugh, she forgot how much she missed Kingsley. Then she frowned again, “For one, Liza is definitely not coming.” She covered her eyes with her arm and groaned, “Definitely not.” “Why not?” He humphed, “I thought she was the one you-” “She’s just not coming.” Seiko growled, cringing briefly. She had finally said something, it was not the right something- she played it off as a joke.

“Perfect!” Kingsley sang, most likely putting two and two together. “You can come and let off some steam. There will be girls there who, you know, could actually like you back!” Seiko groaned into the receiver and thought about hanging up. “I don’t know what I like.” She looked away, maybe that was true, maybe it wasn’t. “I’ve never even kissed a girl, please, Kingsley.” “What? What about the time you called me crying on the phone about Natalie Dormer and your english teacher and those wei-” “It’s always been just a joke, a haha funny, ‘maybe Seiko doesn’t like boys’ clown joke,” Seiko looked miserably up at the ceiling, “None of it was ever meant to be serious.” Nothing ever was.

Kingsley sighed loudly, “Then it’s time.” He said resolutely, “Come to the club with me, it’ll be awesome, live a little, figure yourself out, don’t leave your old friend Kingsley to go alone to this thing.”

“Maybe.” “I think you mean yes. Yes, yes, yes,” He repeated the word like a mantra, “Say yes.” She sighed so deeply a bit of her soul might of left, “Fine.” “Yes!” The phone hung up after that.

Kingsley had become more strong-willed since back in third grade when he cried over dead bugs on the playground. Apparently he dated a Junior girl last year, briefly dropped out, stopped dating a junior girl, and now got fake IDs for a gay club. Life changed.

Seiko just looked the ceiling, eyes misting over. What if she did go? What if she spent her birthday money and drank and danced on sticky floors in the night? What if there was somebody in the smoky dark room with soft lips and warm hands that took her off to the side…

Well, but what if the gay girls didn’t like her either? Then it truly would be hopeless.

She sunk deep into her couch, the rest of her family was out at a family dinner night. She had refused to go, claiming a cold. Seiko lugged herself over to the family calendar and penned in an event: Seiko goes to Liza’s house for a sleepover, gone the whole night.

She went to bed before 8 O’Clock and thought about nothing.

———–

Friday.

There was an email in her inbox on friday, and not her school one, her old one, the one she almost forgot about. She only checked it as an old habit, one that ached like a scar and stuttered hotly in her chest.

She opened her email and something new was there.

Dear Seiko,

It felt like reading a ghost’s handwriting.

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it was all my fault. I was a coward, a fool, I wanted it so badly but I was so scared. I’m sorry.

Happy birthday, I needed to tell you that. I’m so sorry and happy birthday.

I’ve been thinking about you and your birthday and everything else.

Let me know if you ever want to try again. I promise I’ll be ready this time, I want to try again so badly Seiko. But I understand if you don’t.

Love,

Annalise.

Seiko shut her laptop with a loud ‘clack,’ tossed the entire second-hand computer under her bed, and hopped under the covers. She put her head under her pillow and screwed her eyes shut tight in order to force herself to sleep. Nothing but a pounding in her head greeted her.

She opened her computer again at 2am that night, it was dark and still as a tomb. The apartment below them was playing soft ocean music and someone was singing drunkenly on the street. Seiko couldn’t sleep, she didn’t want to sleep. She should sleep.

She wrote, despite herself.

Dear A,

I get it. I think I get it, your mom, right? Sure, yeah, I’m going out this Saturday, out-out, it probably won’t be your thing, a club probably isn’t the best starter-outing

But, yeah, we could try again.Promise you won’t see me and blow me off again? I’m pretty delicate (and dainty, can’t you tell?) and that kind of really fucking sucked like, 6 months ago

If you’re actually up for it, meet us at the gas station on 25th street, we’ll pick you up along with a few beers. Hope you don’t mind.

Yours,

Totally-Cool-and-Drinks-Beers-Now Seiko

She shouldn’t have done it. She did it.

She closes her laptop again and buried the thing at the bottom of a stack of laundry.

————-

She didn’t expect anything. She told herself there was nothing to expect. She was 16 and she made her own meals, did her own laundry, and tied her own damn shoes, she got to make her own decisions.

She could go out to places where they drank and smoked and didn’t care about small apartments that smelled like burnt sneakers and damp soil.

She was 16 now. And she didn’t need ‘fairy gates’ and pale victorian girl’s trapped in wedding-cake houses that were more fantastical than real. She didn’t need bedtime stories of captive princesses.

Seiko’s heart still stopped when she saw the lithe figure under the green fluorescent lights of the gas station. She wasn’t wearing pajamas for once. She had on a knee-length white tent dress with pale yellow accents, a soft blue knit jacket loosely buttoned up her front, and a pair of ankle-length brown boots. She clutched a saddlebag brown leather purse to her side.

They were all probably name-brand with designers Seiko couldn’t place and held by a girl with poise money couldn’t by. Annalise’s dark eyes followed each car nervously, standing with her whole body tense and bathed in the eerie glow of the musty gas station.

She looked out of place against the grungy pumps and compact convenience store, candy bars, tabloids, and energy drinks framing her loose twisting golden curls. She looked out of place and more nervous than Seiko had ever seen her.

But she had come.

“Is that your girl?” Kingsley whistled, he was driving his families yellow jeep with the air of someone with enough money to replace it. “She’s like one of those fancy haunted dolls you buy in the creepy part of ebay.” Seiko shot a glare at him, “She doesn’t get out much.” She explained shortly to him, “pull over.” They drove up to the spooked girl and she froze in place, eyes wide and mirror-like, Seiko quickly rolled down the window, “what’s up hot stuff?” She said with a slight cringe.

Annalise visibly relaxed, “Seiko.” Her eyes grew soft and a faint smile played across her features. “You came.” It was simple, a moment with no time at all, crystallized and still in a way that was beyond a gas station meeting in the dark with childhood friend’s going to a drinking party.

Seiko put her hand out, “Come on up.” Annalise beamed, a faint glow coming to her cheeks, “I’m ready to go out into the world.” She declared and lifted herself up tall, “I’m not even frightened.” “You should be,” Kingsley snorted, “The world’s a fucked up place.” Seiko rolled her eyes, “don’t listen to the cynic, he’s in his ‘try everything once and become an asshole’ phase.” “Thanks Sei, you’re a peach.”

Seiko gave a short laugh, “Come on,” she opened the car door to the back seats, “We’re giving you a crash course in the outside world. Zero to a hundred real quick.” “I’m ready!” Annalise pumped her hands in the air, “Show it to me.” They all grinned with the burn of youth in their guts and chill of the frosty winter in the air. It was time to do something new.

————

Dark trees, brilliant headlights, and a stretching highway unfolded around them in long plodding stretches, Seiko held her hands- popping each knuckle one finger at a time.

She vibrated in place gently, trying to push down any building giddiness, it’s just a club she told herself, just a party, just a girl. So what if it was a gay club? So what if I haven’t done anything like this before? It was thirty minutes to the nearest big-city, Springfield, and then thirty minutes back. But Kingsley had already assured them that they might need to uber their own way back.

“What’s an uber?” Annalise blinked a couple times, wide-eyed and tilting her head like a graceful meerkat leaning into their personal space. She hadn’t been convinced to put a seatbelt on yet.

Seiko and Kingsley exchanged a look, “Uhh,” they both fumbled. “A car you, pay for?”

Annalise grew a cheeky grin, “I’m kidding.” She pushed on Seiko’s shoulder, “I’m a shut-in, not a luddite.” They laughed, passed around a few unmemorable words, and turned the car’s speakers on high. They sang along to Kingsley’s father’s playlists, belting out the Beach Boys best hits when appropriate.

“If everybody had an ocean

Across the U. S. A.

Then everybody’d be surfin’

Like Californi-a”

No one in that car had surfed a day in their life. They turned the song up for a reprise.

Some of the worries melted from Seiko’s gut, it was the night for this, it was the night for her, and Kingsley, and most of all Annalise. They could eat the world whole- chew on the rinds, crunch the mountains into crumbs, and swallow the oceans like candy-flavored cough syrup.

They sped across blank landscape, passing the speed limit at several points and tapping the ceiling with a kiss at every train track. They drove until a glittering mass of high buildings arose from the treetops like a sudden witch’s hut in an otherwise cursed black forest. Sprawling neighborhoods, actual indoor malls, and house lights that didn’t turn off at 9pm came into view.

Seiko took deep even breaths, “We close?” She bit her lip, “are they even expecting us?” Kingsley rolled his eyes and turned off into a highway exit, “Chill,” he put his hand out, “Relax. Everyone will take care of you, they’re cool.” “Take care of us?” Annalise knit her brow together.

Kingsley looked back in the mirror, “You know, like murder.” “No Kingsley.” Seiko groaned.

They made several turns down dinghy second-hand neighborhood roads and Seiko popped her fingers again. The neighborhoods had low gutters, indistinct sidewalks, yellow street lights the color of stale mountain dew, and five story buildings on either side- and this wasn’t even the downtown district. They were as far from Rogers as the afterlife was to the newly born.

Kingsley started humming, “here we go baby.”

They slowed down in front of a boxy cement building with glowing square windows and too many people mulling about outside. Most of them were holding lit cigarettes, chatting, and relaxed as a crowd of crows at a carcass. One of the groups were sipping out of red solo cups and watching a young man in a beanie attempt a skateboard trick.

Seiko gulped as her eyes flicked over the cups, she had tried a few beers with the soccer girls before and even a shot of whiskey she immediately coughed up through her nose.

But nothing like this.

Several cars were parked haphazardly off to the side, a jigsaw puzzle of devil-may care line-ups, a couple of stranger’s raised their heads as Kingsley’s yellow jeep pulled up.

“Y’all ready?” Kingsley winked.

Seiko set her jaw and put on a brave face on, “Let’s rock.” Kingsley just chuckled, “Alright then.” He parked, Seiko exchanged a look with Annalise.

‘You ready?’ she mouthed to the other girl and Annalise just gave a stony-faced nod. She sat up straight and threw her arms up, “Let’s murder it!” She shouted at full-volume and they laughed recklessly in reply.

Kingsley was the first one to jump out, boneless and tall as the buildings themselves. “Who has a drink for me and these lovely ladies?” He waved and some people must have recognized him as he was greeted with a brief ‘ayyyyy.’

Seiko took another moment to get her legs to work, closing her eyes, imagining the whole night laid out in front of her like a winding silver road, her feet pounding on it up and up and out. She hopped out of the car without looking back.

Seiko stumbled forward and a few people looked her over, she gave a lopsided-grin, “Sooo, there’s drinks here?”

“Sure kid,” a girl with a nose ring motioned for a guy wearing a hawaiian t-shirt.

Annalise followed her out like a lost shadow, bumping into Seiko and grabbing at her sleeve, Seiko just gave her a reassuring smile. ‘We got this,’ she mouthed in her general direction, Annalise’s expression had slipped slightly like a shifting curtain over a disturbed zoo animal.

“Yeah.”

Kingsley whooped from the makeshift parking lot, patted some hands, and handed Seiko a sort of ‘jungle juice’ he called it. She wrinkled her nose at the sweet slippery smell and fluorescent redness.

“I guess…” She gave it a long hard look.

“Oh no, none for me, not yet.” Someone tried to offer Annalise a drink too, but she politely turned it down, her cheeks paler than usual and face a little stricken.

“One of you has to break your alcohol cherry tonight,” Kingsley said loudly for the benefit of the crowd, like a showman at the fairgrounds, some other kids cheered back. “Go for it girl,” a young woman with a mohawk cackled.

Seiko looked over to Annalise, her sweeping dark eyes, small wrists, preened curls, and the upright way she carried herself. Everything.

Seiko took a deep breath, held her nose, and drank deeply, it was like every punch juice she ever had but sweeter and with a strong bitter undercurrent. She squeezed her eyes shut, blinked up, and stared into the starless night sky until it all went down.

—————

Colors and lights blurred together, sound thumped in the very center of her being like a drumbeat to her blinking eyes and swirling thoughts. Everything was slightly blurred around the edges, like a developing photo that had been shifted at the very last second.

The world was brighter, busier, and more jumbled than ever before, Seiko had a huge liquid smile spread across her face. They had made it to the club, she couldn’t remember how or why they made it, but they were there. Seiko was sitting on some black leather couches with a group of people she hadn’t known an hour ago.

In the distant past she had entered an apartment, played her first drinking game, won at flip cup, lost spectarcurly at king’s cup. She drank the whole regal cup after that to a series of chanting that began and ended with ‘chug.’ That’s when things got a little wonky around the edges.

She was sitting, smiling, and soaking in the room, there were girls moving with girls and boys whispering to each other in private corners. Couples laughed, held hands, and found places to   dig skin into skin like holy burial grounds. There was a sapling plant in her chest being watered for the first time, a sunbeam to people who never seen the sky before.

She blinked slowly, “This place is great.” That might not have been the first time she said that, “Really great.” Some girl she didn’t know was placing water in front of her, “drink up.” She smiled and watched her carefully. The girl had sparkle star berets in her stiff brown hair, a neon-troll shirt, and a thousand brightly colored bracelets. Seiko thought they started talking when she complimented the girl’s purple leather pants and somehow ended up here. Another girl sat across from them in all black and ignored the crowds for watching the multi-colored ceiling lights instead.

Seiko slowly reached for the water and chugged. It was good, lot’s of things were really good.

“Oh, there you are,” a familiar voice broke into her headspace.

Seiko turned to see a blonde girl leaning over them, trying to avoid other people swaggering behind her as they passed behind the couch. She looked perplexed, Seiko turned her smile on Annalise and reached for her.

“Annalise,” she hummed, “You look so pretty tonight, those red lights are hitting just right.” She hiccuped, “Wish I had my camera.” Annalise shook her head, “I thought I lost you.” The girl (Kendra something?) looked between them curiously, paused, and then scooted over, “Take a seat, we’re just taking a break here.” Annalise exhaled and squished into the place next to them, her eyes flitting over everything and anything.

“Had a drink yet?” Seiko asked and Annalise just shook her head in reply.

“Shame.” A girl with a dark mohawk and a cat-like curl to her lips said, sitting crossed legged on the opposite couch. She reached into her pocket and took out a cherry-red lighter in the shape of a tongue.

Seiko opened her mouth to say something, but a high-pitched yelp interrupted. Seiko turned, Annalise had reeled back, kicking her legs into the table between them and climbing the couch backward. Her eyes were huge. “Is smoking allowed in here?” The girl shrugged, nonplussed, “I know for damn sure this isn’t.” She took out a rolled up piece of paper and put it between her lips, leaning her head back and exposing an expanse of smooth skin. Seiko had the sudden urge to lick it.

“What is it?” Annalise watched her movements, lips parted and shaking anxiety apparent in her movements.

The girl grinned smoothly, “A happy stick. Sweet Mary Jane.” That was pretty obvious.

Annalise just nodded slowly, mouth falling open as the girl flicked the lighter to life, the little flame danced in place. Annalise’s eyes followed it closely as the girl lit the end of her reefer, Annalise swallowed, “My mom always warned me about that stuff.” The girl took a deep inhale, it smelled sweet and thick. Sne answered on the exhale with a huge plume wafting up, “don’t worry about it.” She grinned, “momma knows best.” Annalise watched the whole process in silence, waiting for something. Seiko herself got distracted and started playing ‘Hand Slap’ with Kendra. She kept losing.

“Your reflexes suck,” Kendra frowned, “Are you even trying?” Seiko got her hands slapped for the fifth time, a red welt forming on the top of them. She screwed her face up in concentration, “You’re more sober than me, it’s not fair.” “Drink some more water!”

Seiko rolled her eyes and complied, then a voice spoke up.

“Could I try it? I mean, if that’s okay.” Seiko swiveled around, alert, she almost forgot Annalise was sitting there, neatly tucked away in the corner and watching.

The girl, who’s name was Mikenna, slid her eyes across the room as cool as oil slicks. Her mouth split open in another grin, “Sure thing.” She languidly handed over the blunt, “Don’t inhale too deep the first time, sip it like a kiss.” Annalise’s cheeks pinked, shoulders drawing together and taking the blunt with jerky, questioning movements. She nodded briefly.

“Like this?” Annalise brought it to her lips tentatively.

“Sure.” Mikenna gestured widely.

Annalise paused, thinking for a moment, she took a long inhale in the way you give a firm handshake, solid and focused. She broke out into a sputtering cough the next second, Seiko patted her on the back as she hacked into her fist. “Slower!” Mikenna instructed.

Annalise squeezed her eyes shut, brought the blunt back up again, barely parted her lips and took a drag. The smoke came out of her mouth in a snaking puff, winding and soft, she doesn’t cough this time.

“You got it!”

“Woo! She’s an art kid now,” Annalise gave a brief whoop and they all laughed. Annalise took another hit, watching the little burning end the way preachers watch baptisms, reverent. She never took her eyes off the thing as she and Mikenna passed it back and forth, taking a series of hits. Seiko observed mutley as her agoraphobic friend learned how to smoke weed, she watched the plumes of blooming smoke and Annalise’s pupils expanding like bursting fireworks. Seiko took another shot of whiskey and laughed along with the others at some joke.

Her head lulled back in place and time became thick white ink in the back of her mind, spotty and barely there.

“Let’s dance.” A voice breached her blank thoughts, sudden as a lightning strike, Annalise stood over Seiko, red-eyed and limp-jointed.

“Hmm?”

“Dance,” Annalise smiled and reached for Seiko’s hand, her fingers trailing out from the abyss and grasping for her. “Out there.” Their hands slid together and Annalise tugged gently on Seiko.

“Okay,” she replied simply, the water was running through her system and her senses were coming back into place like lost puzzle pieces. Luckily, she still had enough goose left in her to let herself be led to the dance floor.

Annalise was giggling and covering her mouth, squeezing Seiko’s hand like it was a secret between them, Seiko felt weightless again. They wedged themselves onto the edge of the dance floor, a horde of shaking bodies jerking back and forth around them. The music pounded wordlessly and they fit together on the sticky white floors face to face.

They giggled for another moment before starting to rock back and forth experimentally, leaving enough room for Jesus but catching each other’s eyes and smiling. They hovered closer, shimmying and throwing their hands up to the beat.

They swayed and touched lightly and tried to collapse into something more than ‘almost.’

The breath left Seiko’s body when someone bumped into her and she stumbled into Annalise, crashing into her and their bodies coming together like peanut butter and jelly bread slices. Annalise didn’t pull away, instead intertwining their hands and pulling her close. Their bodies slid into one and a melting heat coursed through Seiko like river rapids.

She drew her eyes up and they’re rolling along to the music, sandwiched together and mixing like shaken martinis. Seiko exhaled through her nose, something feverish and prickling across her skin, their legs slotted and chests touched lightly.

She wet her lips, “this is good.” It felt dumb to say out loud, she glanced up shyly at Annalise’s loose hair and bright eyes, “You look good.” Her hands felt dumb, her feet felt dumb, and her head swam with dumb. The rest of her was completely electric.

Annalise tapped their foreheads together, “You too,” She said gently, wrapping her arms around Seiko’s neck, sweaty skin melding and eyes burning. “Thanks for inviting me out.” She leaned closer with each word, “It’s even better than I thought.” She was a hair away, sticky music and rhythm consuming them on all sides.

“No problem,” her voice cracked, she grinned up, “I just can’t believe you smoked a joint.” Annalise laughed, lighting up like a firecracker, “I just hoped to get up the nerve to get you alone.” Seiko’s heart beat so fast and hard she thought it might crash through her chest and out into the bloody world, abandoning her there forever. Her whole body froze despite the grinding and the pooling warmth inside her. “You didn’t need to do all that, I think you’re,” she floundered, mouth gaping open and closed, “…cool.” She finished weakly.

Annalise giggled and her breath is hot against Seiko’s cheek, “I think you’re amazing.” She felt the touch of almost-skin against skin, “and I’ve been waiting too long for too many things.” The actual words were drowned out by the thrumming music, but their lips crushed together with the force of honey bees into flower hearts, ready to suck the pollen dry. Gentle and needy, the first touch is rainwater against burnt hilltops.

Her lips are slightly parched, warm and pulsing like a drumbeat, it didn’t matter that they were in a dim club in the middle of a distant city with nothing but strangers around them. They kiss, clumsily, forcefully, Seiko’s thoughts jammed like cars at a traffic light and she melted into the moment.

Annalise’s hands went through Seiko’s hair and Seiko wound her arms around the taller’s girls waist and pulled her closer. They deepened the kiss in the flurry of music and sweet heaving bodies. Little noises caught in Seiko’s throat and it’s a tunnel she’s falling down, down, down into with no safety rope, tilting her chin up and getting lost.

The union was wet and sloppy, hot as fevers and bruising her chaste lips, everything a mix of sensation threading together in one infinite moment. Annalise kissed like she wanted to eat her, hands running down Seiko’s whole body and teeth nipping at jawline.

It was better than she imagined.

Annalise had never been outside her house, Seiko had never named wanting anything at all. Wanting was for people with names in the yearbook and clothes from anywhere than a thrift shop. And it was all fire ants on a honey hill, kittens rolling in catnip, turnedo storms on flat plains, none of the embrace was elegant but it really didn’t need to be.

A blur of lips and grinding and wetness, it felt like hours, someone told her later that it was hours. Seiko eventually broke the entwinement in a fit of panic and went to choke down some water. They found each other again after a brief recovery, retiring to the nearest couch and falling into one another.

Seiko burst with the world and it burst back.

Her mouth became puffy and cracked with chapped heat, neck littered with tiny purple swelling marks and everything aching with pouring light. It was all a wish of wish she had never managed before.

They took an uber home and parted with a kiss that broke her in two, Seiko walked home from Greenbriar on foot and didn’t feel a single drop of cold. She was electric.

——————

Seiko woke up the next morning and she was not electric anymore, in fact, she was very much grey thunderstorms with no lightning. Very very bleak. And loud.

She groaned and turned over in bed, groping around to close her blinds and sleep forever. Her head hurt, her knee hurt where she she kicked a chair, her back hurt, and her breath tasted like sour candy left out to rot in the sun.

She had gone out last night.

Seiko rolled over and reached for the small trash can by her bed, she sat there and felt queasy for at least a couple minutes before stumbling up to go find some water. Mercifully, her mother didn’t come check on her that morning and Seiko returned to her bed unhindered.

It was hard to process the night. It was hard to even guess why she did the things she did.

The other part of her was amazed she did them at all, was it real? Had she kissed a girl? Had she touched her hair and felt the swell of music and warmth inside her? What was that night real? Seiko replayed the moments over and over in head, even the blurry parts that were more sensation than images. But the kiss was real.

She sighed into her pillow and was helpless against the next pull of sleep, dreaming soft things in fits until her headache slowly faded into just an aching pulse. It was well past noon when she finally managed to drag herself from bed again, shower, and feel like any sort of person.

Seiko sat cross-legged on her bed in a fluffy towel, opening her email to check on her grades and any Monday assignments (she prayed she hadn’t forgot any).

Instead, she felt her soul leave her body as she read the worst email header of her life: Goodbye.

Seiko could barely process the word, much less who is it was from. It had unicorn in the name.

Goodbye.

Thank you for everything Seiko, it means more to me than you will ever know. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Go live your life, forget me, know that I am so sorry and forget me.

Love,

A

Seiko’s eyes went wide, she sat there numbly for a full minute.

“Of course she would,” Seiko gnashed her teeth, “Of course that fakey psychic witch would,” something burned in her center, “Enough is enough Madame Lynne.” She said the name mockingly and burst to her feet, only swaying slightly in place.

Enough was enough.

She wrote out a quick manifesto and threw on some new clothes: children don’t belong in cages Madame L. Children deserve to see the world and make their own mistakes.

It sounded reasonable enough to her, she could start with reason at least and then resort to other things later.

Seiko still had to wait another hour before she was less groggy, less achy, and less panicky in her fritzing nerves. She knew what she had to do nonetheless.

When she finally left her room to stuff a sandwich down her throat and find her shoes her mom was waiting in the living room. She was sitting on the couch absently watching the TV, “Did you have a fun night?” She asked without looking up.

“Oh… yeah,” Seiko just nodded, “It was pretty great.” Her mom’s sober crows-feet eyes looked up at her. She spoke dryly, “Learn anything?” Seiko made a non-committed gesture, “Maybe.” She frowned, “I think so.” Her mom just sighed and shook her head, “I saw you put your shoes away in the bread box when you got in. At 5 O’clock.” “5 O’clock,” Seiko repeated, “Thanks, I’ll go get them. Also,” she hesitated, deciding whether to go all in or not, “Also, I might call in sick Monday.” Her mom narrowed her eyes, “Oh?” Seiko just nodded and tried haltingly to explain, “I have something important to do. It might… need a lot of attention.” Her mom gave her a piercing looking, all folded brows and a discerning stare. She lifted her chin up, “Are you okay?” “Yeah,” Seiko lifted her chin up, “Thanks mom. Thanks for everything.” She shuffled over to kiss her mom on the cheek, her mom blinked rapidly in reply.

“Oh my God,” she turned to her in horror, “How bad is it?” Seiko just gave a weak smile, “I need to go help a friend.” She waved, “I promise it’s important.” “Important enough to miss school?” Her mom kept frowning.

She gave her a thumbs up, “You betcha.” Her mom shook her head but waved her toward the door, “Don’t make it a habit.”

She shoved her shoes on, grabbed a bagged sandwich, and stuffed her fully charged cell phone into her inside pocket. She might need it. She turned as she reached the door, “I love you!”

Her mom just gaped, “Jesus, be careful.” Seiko’s mom said forcefully, but didn’t stop her as she raced out the door. The older woman tutted to herself, “Wild girl… Be home for dinner!”

Seiko streaked down the apartment steps and back into the light.

———-

Seiko once again made her way to the wedding-cake house on Townsend Street, paperless this time and taller than she had ever been. It was quiet, hushed with grey misty skies and yellow parched winter grass.

It hadn’t snowed in a few weeks and everything was frosted and bare across the naked trees and shuttered houses. It felt appropriate as Seiko made her way up the hill.

“Miss Lynne,” she practiced with herself, “I know you might not think it’s any of my business, but there’s something important I have to say,” she drew a deep breath, “I know you have your daughter’s best interests at heart, probably, maybe, but locking her away is absolutely the wrong thing! She’s a person, not a mint-condition action figure, last night was good for her!”

She mused over the words, rearranging them little by little, “She’s a young woman, not a fancy tea set to be put aside in a cupboard! Take it from me, I’m mostly-functioning, I mean I get decent grades. I mean, I’m allowed to roam around and my parents trust me to not mess up too bad. That’s good!”

She couldn’t quite make the right arguments, even to herself, but hadn’t she been trekking around neighborhoods on her bike since she before she could remember? Hadn’t she been fine? Wasn’t she evidence enough? Seiko couldn’t even imagine what Madame Lynne had to worry about in a rich neighborhood like hers anyway.

The house came up much faster than Seiko would have liked, all too familiar and yet alien at the same time. She stood on her tiptoes to peer through the fence and over the hedge, all the curtains were drawn on the house’s long Georgian windows. Seiko held her breath at the sight, pursing her lips together and inching her way toward the gate, there was no turning back now.

She touched the cold iron latch of the fairygate, resting her hands on it’s clasp and waiting for something. She closed her eyes and pushed it soundlessly open, it was time to go in. Seiko kept her back broom-straight and marched up the drive before she could talk herself out of it. She had been their paper girl, maybe that meant something.

She knocked on the door three times, jaw set and resolve hard as a cherry pit in her teeth.

“Okay, you see,” she muttered, practicing one last time, “It’s time to face the facts… This is no way to prepare your daughter for college!” Parents cared about that, they were really into colleges.

She knocked on the door again.

She counted to ten, no reply. Seiko started to huff, “Hello?” She called, “Not answering me is really unnecessary, I just want to talk!” Seiko was starting to find this childish, she screwed her face up and stomped on the hard porch. “Locking kids away isn’t good! And if you keep this up, well, I might just… call somebody. Somebody you won’t like!” She threatened, wondering if she’d actually need to prove Annalise was being mistreated to the cops.

She wondered how she might actually change things, how a conversation like ‘I think you should switch your entire parenting style’ went.

Seiko waited five more minutes with no reply.

She began to circle the house, tapping on the glass and trying to peer in, “Miss Lynne?” All the curtains were still drawn and the house was quiet as a graveyard angel, a sleeping beast to the world. “Annalise?”

Seiko circled the house again, coming back to the front door. She almost went cross-eyed staring at the big white doors, waiting for something. Seiko weighed her next move carefully, holding a single idea in place and poking at it.

There was no other choice.

“I’m coming in now.” She called out as loud as she dared, voice wobbling slightly, she turned the golden door handle and the back of her neck prickled. It wasn’t locked, the door swung open easily and revealed a dim empty house, faceless and unlit.

She gulped, this was the part in horror movies where the protagonist needed to run away, where you yelled at your TV ‘just don’t go on!’ The part where you wonder if they’re idiots or not.

Seiko took a step inside, shoulders hunched and eyes sweeping the gloomy foyer, it held a grand-staircase, blank white walls, and a short hall leading to a massive dining room. The stairs had thick pale carpet, grand wooden handrails, and a shadowed upper story. It all lacked many personal items, just a large plumy plant in the corner and coat rack off to the side.

The house smelled of dust and musky green things.

Seiko took a few more shaky footsteps inside, if the fence was the fairy gate this was surely the witch’s house.

“Anyone home?” She lifted her chin up, heart in her throat and eyes combing the emptiness, “Madame Lynne, I just have a few things to say.”

“How few?” She jerked around, someone was standing behind the door, “We prefer our deliveries outside paper girl.” Before Seiko could react, a clear crystal ball was raised in Madame Lynne’s outstretched hands, it caught the light for just a moment. A rainbow speckled across Seiko’s cheek as the ball was hoisted above her.

She didn’t even get a second to cry out, Madame Lynne brought the crystal ball down hard, pain bloomed at the top of Seiko’s head and shock sunk in like gushing ice water. She crumpled to her knees and her vision quickly spotted black.

She thought she heard a strangled cry from up above, but the world dimmed into a nothingness and was gone just as quickly.

——————–

There were voices, voices, piercing light, and an acute acrid taste in Seiko’s mouth. Seiko wanted to groan and roll away into some distant corner of sleep again.

“This is for your own good,” a voice snapped sharply.

“You don’t know what’s good for me!” a voice, Annalise, it must have been Annalise, hissed back, “This all for you.” There was a growl and a dark undercurrent to her words.

Seiko cracked her eyes open, she flinched, a pain was nestling deep in her forehead, a cruel pounding that thrashed around her frontal lobe, and this one wasn’t from a hangover. Dried blood ran down the left side of her face, making her skin stiff and eyelashes clump together when she blinked. Seiko squinted into the room around her.

It was bright, bright as flash bombs, pure white light shone from up above- a crystal chandelier hanging off a gilded silver fixture, casting diamond streaks of light and long shadows on the walls. The room itself looked like a grand bedroom, a dresser and vanity were pushed off to the side on a silvery grey carpet. Thick curtains covered the windows and the air was warm with blasting furnace heat, Seiko tensed, a large circle was drawn in the very center of the room. It looked rough, homemade, and wet, crude symbols were drawn along the edges and two blurry figures perched just outside the lines. The room smelled like unseen smoke and rotting things.

Seiko’s lips curled back, she tried to move her hands and found them tightly bound. She looked down, her wrists were tied crushingly to the arms of a high-backed chair. She had been captured.

“What the fuck?” She rocked back and forth in place, “WHAT THE FUCK.” Madame Lynne turned, she was wearing one of her dark shawls and a maroon head-covering. She looked over to Seiko like she was an unwanted chunk of mold on a piece of sweet bread.

“Who does this?” Seiko struggled against her restraints, “What the hell is this?”

“Seiko, stay calm, wait,” She looked up sharply, Annalise was sitting across from her, wearing a light blue nightdress and worry lines across every surface of her face. She was similarly tied up to a tall kitchen chair with sailor’s rope and immobilized. She was noticeably bedraggled, somehow paler and more worn, like a ghost of herself. There was something dented about her cheeks, shadowed and lifeless. Her were eyes dull and tired, a strip of tape or maybe plastic was stuck on her left cheek.

“Annalise!” She called out and tried to rock forward, she turned on Madame Lynne hotly, “Child services would definitely have your ass for this,” She narrowed her eyes, “What is it, some sort of occult thing?” She glanced at the circle, “Like, moms sacrificing their kids to satan kind of fucked-up?” She watched Annalise look bitterly over to her mom, gaze dark and unflinching. “She’s not my mom.”

“Of course I am,” Madame Lynne waved her hand dismissively, “What else would I be?” She snorted, then swiftly turned toward Seiko, stalking over to her in a sweeping shapeless dress and with outstretched clawed hands, “And you, the delivery girl,” she licked her lips, “What were you thinking? Smoke, really? Really?! Do you even know what you’ve done?” She stood back up, “Of course not, little fool.” Seiko rolled her eyes with a special type of gumption, “It was just weed, Jesus. It’s not going to kill her.” Madame Lynne lunged forward, one thin hand grabbing Seiko’s chin and jerking her head around to look her directly in the eye. “You don’t know anything.” She whispered acidicly, expression wide and empty, “You don’t what you’ve done.” Seiko sucked in a short breath, “I know you can’t treat her like this. I know this is probably pretty fucking illegal.” Madame Lynne’s lips twitched up, she released Seiko roughly and righted yourself. “You think the law means anything here?” A type of feral humor crossed her mismatched features, “Mortal enforcement wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Mortal…?” Seiko furrowed her brow, “Okay, I guess you’re definitely an alien or some sort of weird demon then. Good to know.” Madame Lynne turned to her slowly, “no, no,” she sang, “just a normal psychic woman,” she looked up at the ceiling, tone suddenly turning weary and sour. “It’s a story you’ve probably heard before.” “Oh trust me, I bet I haven’t.” Seiko tugged at her bonds, trying to loosen the grip just enough to slip her wrist out. “Try me.”

“Wait, wait, no,” Annalise shook her head vigorously, eyes wide, looking adrift and slightly sick to her stomach. “It’s not what you think… it’s not important.” Madame Lynne gave a cackling laugh, “Oh yes, you’ve heard it before. A woman who desperately wants a daughter, someone to hold and care for.” Her eyes looked misty and distant, lost somewhere. “And to care for her when she’s old and unwell.”

Seiko noticed Madame Lynne reaching into her pocket, absently retrieving something curved, pointed, and glittering from one of the deep folds. Seiko’s breath hitched, it looked like an item from an assassins medieval weapons set, a knife half the size of Seiko’s forearm balanced in the older woman’s hand.

Sweat gathered on the back of Seiko’s neck, she pulled on the ropes again.

“You wanted a daughter,” her eyes darted back to the knife in her hands, “So you had Annalise. Yeah, that’s how it works.” Madame Lynne shook her head with forlorn. “I couldn’t.” She sighed and rounded the witches circle in the bright room. “It was not in my fortunes.” Seiko frowned, tilting her head to the side. “So you adopted a daughter just to fuck with her later?” Annalise’s whole face collapsed, she twisted forward desperately, “Please… Seiko.” It sounded small, “I don’t want you to… I don’t…” She choked slightly, like a fish drowning on land.

Seiko shot her a concerned look and then turned back to the psychic. “You didn’t have to tie me to a chair for this speech.” Madame Lynne’s lips curled back, “I thought you should know what you’re going to part of.” She presented a cheerless smile. “I couldn’t have a daughter.” She continued, “So I made one.” “… Okay,” she looked back to Annalise who didn’t meet her eyes.

“I poured my love and my breath and my soul into paper and wax, pasting her together one layer at a time. A perfect beautiful daughter that I could hold and care for,” Madame Lynne sniffed, Seiko still wasn’t processing this. “The Old Ones saw me. They saw my heart’s desire, my greatest wish, all my work, and gave pity.” Madame Lynne looked up at the ceiling, a certain reverence there. “They brought my daughter to life for me.” Seiko eyes went wide, “What?” She squinted, “What?” Madame Lynne closed her eyes, “They breathed life into my beautiful paper doll.” She sighed, “and brought life to the lifeless.” Seiko sputtered, “Iike Pinocchio?”

Madame Lynne looked back to her, unsmiling. “No.”

Annalise gave a weak, sad hiccup of a laugh. “My nose doesn’t grow.” Madame Lynne tutted, “She could walk and talk, feel, learn, think, grow, live as a real girl.” Seiko’s heart started to beat faster, this was too strange. “Come on,” she relaxed into a tight smile, “Seriously? You want me to believe Annalise is some sort of… paper… person?” She moved her wrists back and forth, loosening them, “That’s crazy!”

Seiko should have come sooner to this nuthouse and done something.

“Crazy?” Madame Lynne barked a laugh, “Of course. Of course!” She turned around in a tight circle to face her daughter, “Crazy.” She reached for the tape on Annalise’s sunken cheek, “Crazy… Do you know what smoke does to paper?” She grabbed the strip. “To wax?” Seiko glared, “What the hell are you doing?” “Weakens it!” Madame Lynne yanked at the strip, a vicious tearing sound filled the room.

“No!” Seiko called out breathlessly as a chunk of Annalise’s skin was ripped away in one grisly tug. But no blood came out. No fluid, no muscle revealed or skin at all to behold.

Annalise cried out in pain, but underneath that layer of skin was just another layer: paper white, smooth, and blemishless.

Seiko gulped deeply, “You shouldn’t… do that.” She said weakly, her entire world turning upside down.

“A paper girl,” the psychic continued darkly, “can’t go out in the sun without her wax melting, can’t go into the rain without sagging, can’t touch the snow without disintegrating. Can’t eat, can’t drink,” She snarled, “I have done nothing but keep my daughter safe!”

The blood drained from Seiko’s face, she glanced between Annalise and her mom, trying to parse through this. She focused on the other girl, “Annalise…?” It was soft, a question, probing at her gently.

Annalise looked miserably down at her knees and a few long seconds passed, “I’m not her thing.” She whispered quietly, “I have my own thoughts, wants, my own life.” She jerked her head up, “I’m not her thing!”

Seiko’s mouth fell open. “No… you’re not?” She was still trying to wrap her mind around being able to make a person out of paper and wax. Madame Lynne waved at Annalise dismissively, “We’ve been over this. I needed to keep you safe,” She exhaled, “but this one.” She turned on Seiko with her nasty gleaming knife, “this one is going to change everything for us.” Seiko leaned back in her chair, “Maybe… plastic wrap?” She offered with a feeble smile, “We could laminate her.” “Haha,” the woman’s voice echoed, “You always were a funny one.” She leered, “Maybe Annalise will inherit that when you give your life for hers.”

“No?” Seiko squeaked shrilly.

“I was against such things before, but well, you broke in.” She laughed, “Who can a blame a homeowner for defending herself?” Seiko jerked her head back and forth, looking between the two women, “Annalise?” She asked in a shrill voice, sweat beading down her temples, “Haha, jokes up, nice one guys. I’ve learned my lesson, no more coming in uninvited.” Madame Lynne bent her head down, “Bone and blood.” She started to chant, “Bone and blood, bone and blood, take this flesh and take this soul, take from the corporeal make to the core, b-” “You can’t do this!” Seiko shrieked, the knife was coming carefully toward her unmarked forearm, ready to sink it’s teeth in. “You can’t make her a real girl through me!”

Madame Lynne wasn’t listening.

“No,” a thunk came from across the room, the chair across from Seiko careening over in one loud crash. Seiko and Madame Lynne snapped to attention. “You can’t.”

Annalise had ripped one hand free of the ropes, wrenching her skin to ribbons and using what was left to untie the other. She rolled out of her chair, raising to her feet with a trail of uncoiled paper hanging loosely from her left forearm.

Madame Lynne straightened up with a forced smile, “What are you doing, darling?” Annalise lifted her chin high in the air, “What I should have done a long time ago.” She went sprinting across the room, spitting and tearing like a feral cat on the attack. “Put. That. Down!”

They crashed into each other. Mother and daughter, wrestling for a silver glittering knife.

Seiko wiggled against her own harsh ropes, ugly red abscesses forming along her forearm as she struggled, she managed to loosen one of her hands enough to yank her palm out. “Ah!” A burn scorched across her skin, she gritted her teeth and tugged through the pain.

Meanwhile, Annalise grappled with her mother, clawing at her face with her battered hand and a fiery hissing force, a battle cry spilling out of her from years of bottled grief.

“I’m not yours!” She roared over and over, “You can’t have me!”

Seiko ripped at her shackles, freeing one hand and fumbling with the other tight knot with shaking fingers and breathless movements. She unbound her wrist in one swift tug and bolted to her feet instinctually, ignoring the throbbing in her arms and head.

“Annalise!” She called, voice rasping and heart pounding as if it might collapse in her chest like a straw birds nest in a hurricane. She reached out, “I’m free, we’re free, Annalise!”

Annalise glanced up from where she wrestled her mom. She looked down again, gave a final roar and tore the knife out of her mom’s hand. She took the weapon in hand, lifted it high, and threw it viciously across the room. It lodged into the wood of the house with a twang and Annalise leapt to her feet.

“I’m so sorry,” she wailed and reached for Seiko, jumping up as Madame Lynne dove for the knife again.

Seiko grabbed Annalise’s good hand. “Don’t even worry.” She tried to smile, “I’ve had weirder nightmares than this.”

Annalise cringed, “It’s not over yet.”

They throw themselves at the door and toward escape. Seiko twisted the lock open and they shoot out into the dark hall with furious feet and numb legs. Annalise led them through the house, turning down a hallway and toward the quiet grand staircase. “Down, down, down.” Annalise yanked them down the stairs at a breakneck pace, running as a wordless howl chased their progress toward the blurry grey outside.

Seiko overtook her as they reached the front door, “We’re going to get you out of here.” She promised, “You’re going to be out of this house for good.” “Seiko,” Annalise squeezed Seiko’s hand painfully as Seiko tore the door open, spilling in weak wintery light. “Seiko, what she said was… true.” Annalise relented disjointedly, looking down at her feet. “I’m not… like you.”

“I don’t care,” Seiko said fiercely, “You can be a girl made of snow or cat litter or whatever the hell, but I know you’re a person! And you don’t have to stay here,” She stepped closer to her, eyes softening, “Not if you don’t want to.” Annalise looked between Seiko, the blurry outside, and then back up to her wailing mother upstairs. She set her jaw, voice thick with brimming emotion, “I don’t want to stay here.” Seiko pulled them out the door, out into the bleak day and the smooth path out, out, out. They made their way down the driveway.

“But,” Annalise followed limply behind, mind obviously whirling as they ran. “Where will I live?” She asked the open air suddenly, “Where will I go?” “Move now,” Seiko yanked open the fairy gate, “Think later.” They only had a moment to hold their breath on the precipice of the yard before a banging came from behind them. Madame Lynne burst out the front door and flung herself onto the porch rail, hair falling down in black waves and eyes bulging. “If you leave you can’t come back!” She spat, “You’re nothing but paper, I won’t have you after this.”

Annalise hovered at the edge of the property, eyes unmoving and clouded. She drew a deep breath, “I’d rather be nothing than be your ornament!” She shouted firmly, squeezed Seiko’s hand and then pulled them both through the gate. Then they were running again, panting, howling, skipping down the sidewalk toward the highway and out of Greenbriar. Out, out, out.

Madame Lynne didn’t follow.

“Wow! That was amazing, awesome, fantastic Annalise,” Seiko cheered as they danced into the middle of the empty road, hot with adrenaline and a vicious type of joy. “You did it.” Annalise looked up, smiling wearily, “It’s over.” She sighed, “it’s over.”

Seiko vibrated, “You can live in my room, I’ll roll a mat out. My mom won’t be happy, but I’m sure once I explain it to her she’ll have to. And we can sleep over and I’ll make pancakes in the morning.” Annalise was slowing down, dark eyes looking up the sky. “Seiko,” she said slowly, evenly. “This is everything I ever wanted.” Seiko glanced back at her and laughed, “Don’t say that yet, you haven’t even had the

pancakes.” Her thoughts were already going over logistics, Annalise had missed a lot of school and a lot of socializing. It would have to be a process.

But that could be handled, it could all be handled.

And then a fat wet snowdrop fell. Wet and soggy and spiked with ice, just like the downpour all those years ago with two young girls and a missing earring. The rain fell.

“No,” Seiko looked up, the world slowing into a single tiny moment. “No.” She turned, Annalise’s cheek had smeared into a wet slushy white paste, flesh sinking in like a deflating party balloon. Seiko’s eyes went wide with horror.

“Hurry,” she pushed on Annalise, “Let’s get you to a shelter. I have some… paper mache at the house, I can fix that.” Annalise just shook her head and stayed in place, more heavy droplet’s hit her forehead and shoulders, tearing at her gently.

“Go.” Her voice was wispy, watery with unshed tears, “There’s no place for me out there, I have no money, no family, no home… Go Seiko, live your life, live, you deserve it.” She stood in place, “just… remember me.” Seiko staggered backward, grabbing at Annalise. “You deserve a fucking life too,” tears stung at her eyes, she pushed on Annalise to move, to walk, but the other girl didn’t budge. Seiko gnashed her teeth, “We didn’t… we didn’t get you of there just to end here. You deserve it so much, look at me,” she sobbed, “Look at me, I’m not letting you just stand here.” Her breaths came out in distressed tiny bursts. Annalise wrapped her arms around Seiko’s neck, “that night,” Annalise’s whole face was sagging down, weighed down by pelts of snow. “It was the best moment of my entire life. Everything, it was worth every second.” “Goddammit!” Seiko planted her feet, bent down and thrust her arms underneath Annalise’s knees and armpits, hoisting her up in the air bridal style. “Stop it. It’s not going to end like this!”

Annalise took a shaky breath, “you’re going to have such a beautiful life, I can see it.” “Shut up!” Seiko ran, barely feeling her legs as she carried the light girl over to the nearest shelter. They take refuge under a large bus stop overhang. “You’re the one that’s beautiful, your life will be too.” “Look at me.” Annalise breathed, Seiko kept her gaze on the flurry of white sky above, biting her lip in two as she did. “Please.” Annalise begged, “I promise… it’ll be okay.”

Seiko forced herself to look down. Annalise was melting, skin peeling away from her face and tissues sinking inward like holes in quicksand, leaving nothing behind. “Kiss me.” Seiko’s choked on the air, tears spilling out across her cheeks in thick sheets, running freely down her face. “N-no.” She shook her head vigorously. “You’re not a thing, you’re a person, a person, you hear me? You have your whole life to figure stuff out. A whole life… to kiss.” Annalise licked her lips, leaving no moisture behind, she was folding inward, becoming even lighter in Seiko’s arms. Coming apart.

Annalise wiped gently at Seiko’s streaming tears, “I can’t come with you.” She whispered, “I knew that, I always knew it.” She took a labored breath. “This was always going to happen. But at least… it’s a good happening.”

“Fuck, no,” Seiko begged, “it’s not good, it’s awful. This can’t… I can’t…” Annalise gave a weak smile, “Go. See the world, fall in love, make something, be anything, you were always made for life Seiko.” Seiko shook her head vigorously, “You can’t,” she was hyperventilating, “You can’t talk like that.” Annalise closed her eyes, “I can’t stay.” “No!” She wailed, “You can’t. I- I love you.”

Annalise just nodded, “Oh Seiko, I won’t be the last one to love you,” she stroked her cheek, “there’s so much for you.”

And then she was kissing her. Wet and crumpling and filled with a vigorous force she couldn’t explain. Annalise’s hands ran through Seiko’s damp hair and they kiss with the anguish of bursting stars and holes boring into the ozone. It’s harsh and gentle as a settling frost and whisper on the wind.

They kiss and kiss, tears spilling from her eyes and a hard begging in every crevice of her: no, no, no. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

She kissed until nothing but cold air touched her lips. Seiko opened her eyes, she was holding a limp nightdress and wet paper folding into a pile of unrecognizable mush, disintegrating at every angle. A collapsed paper doll. “No!” She shrieked, tearing at her vocal cords in a shattering sob, “Annalise, Annalise,” she pulled the wet paper to her chest and rocked it back and forth. “Say something, goddammit, Annalise! Annalise, I love you.” The wet paper didn’t respond, just folded silently into the soggy ground and disappeared with nothing but Seiko and the snow as witnesses. Seiko cried until there was nothing left to cry.

—————–

Seiko quit the soccer team. Liza said she understood, Seiko told her that maybe their friendship could use a small break. She told June she was making her own film, they could watch it together sometime.

She told her mom she loved her, she told her father he was doing a good job, and whispered to her little sister she was going to make a better path forward, for the both of them.

She told them that she liked girls, that she liked movies, and that she liked not working and going out sometimes. They took her out for a long drive and Seiko drove the hole way back herself.

Seiko put her pen to paper that night: Dear Annalise,

I won’t forget you. Her hands shook like dried autumn leaves, I’m 16 now, maybe I wasn’t before. I wish you were here. I’m going to the movies with a girl, I’m going to start reading that book about trees you liked.

I’m going to go live my life, whatever you meant by that, and I’m going to make something beautiful. For us.

Love, always,

Seiko.

#wlw #original story #f/f #urban fantasy #romance #mystery #growing up #coming of age #lbgt romance #original writing #my work #slice of life #first love #heartbreak

[jovialyouthmusic]

Special Delivery

Recently @sirbeepsalot asked the question - what would you do if you straight up met your crush IRL. I asked for a scenario and she said ‘Pizza delivery’ 

So ‘Fabio Zuno’ delivers pizza to my door 😬

I opened the door for the Pizza delivery guy – and almost fell on the floor.

I say almost because if I hadn’t hung onto the door frame I would have sunk to the floor, my knees giving way.

The pizza delivery guy looked EXACTLY like my Instagram heartthrob Fabio Zuno, and he took my breath away.

‘That is ten pounds.’ he said, his tone bored, but his accent -

DEAR GOD his accent was Spanish – and that smile… I stood mesmerised for a moment and he raised his eyebrows, waiting for a response.

‘Uh hold on, I’ll get my purse.’ He sighed heavily and I ran back in, my legs wobbly, my heart racing. What were the chances? I was alone, I’d had a hankering for pizza and now – dear god all my fantasies were coming true.

Though to be honest, a pizza delivery guy wasn’t really on my list. Until now. I went back out, my hands trembling.

‘I’m sorry, I only have a twenty.’ He looked a little unhappy at this and shook his head.

‘Is no good. You have change?’

‘Oh heck – well keep it’ his eyebrows rose again.

‘I can’t do that.’ he said.

‘No really – you – uh you look like someone…’ I thought his eyebrows were going to meet with his hairline. His hair - it was JUST like Fabio’s, dark and luxurious, long on top and swept up and back with a lock flopping across his forehead. I tried to change the subject as I fished about in my purse looking for loose change to see if I could come up with the right money ‘It’s late, you can’t have long to go on your shift, surely?’

‘My last call.’ he said, shifting his motorbike helmet under his arm ‘Long shift - home next.’ I looked at him. It was crazy but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t ask…

‘Are you hungry? Because there’s a lot here and there’s only m.e’ he looked dubious, and I backtracked. ‘I’m sorry, you must get girls ask you that all the time. I promise I won’t bite – well obviously I’ll be biting the pizza – but otherwise…’ He smiled and his face lit up as I tried to stop babbling.

‘What sort?’ he asked, peering in as I opened the box. ‘Oh – I like pepperoni and mushroom.’ He lingered a little ‘I’m not supposed to…’

‘I won’t tell.’ I smiled ‘Come on in.’ He smiled gratefully and I held the door open for him. The space was close and he brushed against me.

‘Oh – so sorry.’ he breathed. I smiled, my stomach doing little flips

‘It’s fine. the bathroom is straight ahead if you want to wash your hands. Lounge is just on the left there – do you want a plate - cutlery?’

‘Nooo’ he said ‘Pizza is street food, you eat with your fingers’

‘I know!’ I said ‘I never order it in a restaurant, I always feel silly cutting it up with a knife and fork – they never cut it for you and the knives aren’t sharp enough.’ He grinned went to the bathroom before returning to take his bulky jacket off and sit on the couch.

‘We think the same.’ he said, winking. My heart did another little flip. I sat on the easy chair at right angles to him and the low coffee table, putting the box down and opening it.

‘Hold on.’ I said, and got up to run to the kitchen to get paper napkins. Our fingers touched briefly as I handed him one, sending a little shock up my arm, and I all but fell into my chair, trying desperately not to blush. He took a slice and bit into it.

‘Mmm, good’ he said, mouth half full ‘Mario make the best pizza in town.’ I laughed.

‘Have you tested them all?’ He nodded.

‘Yes I have!’ he said animatedly ‘I need a job, I have a driving license, I did my research.’ I took a bite and started to chew.

‘Sorry if I’m being rude, but I suppose you’re not from round here.’ He shook his head.

‘No, Argentina.’ My stomach did another little flip.

‘Oh, that can’t be easy when it comes to job interviews – because of the Falklands conflict.’ His face clouded over and I tackled my first slice.

‘Las Malvinas, yes.’ he said. I frowned.

‘It was a terrible business, it should never have happened. I was so angry with our Prime Minister.’ He shrugged.

‘It’s over now, all done. No-one say anything. ’

‘Well that’s okay then.’ I took a second slice. ‘How did you end up here?’

‘I love to travel. I ran out of money I just stop for the winter, get more money.’

‘Then you really should keep that change.’ I said. He smiled.

‘Thankyou, I will.’

‘So, did you deliver pizza in Argentina?’

‘No, I was a model.’ I felt myself flush.

‘Oh, that’s so strange. Can I ask your name?’ He looked at me with his grey eyes, measuring whether he could tell me.

‘Fabio’ he replied, and I inhaled the piece of pizza I had just bitten off. He came to my side and slapped me on the back as I choked.

‘F – Fabio?’ Really? Not - Fabio Zuno?’ I spluttered as I got my breath back. He nodded.

‘Yes – you hear about me?’ I was feeling seriously dizzy, so I concentrated on breathing before I spoke again.

‘Yes – dear god yes’ I said ‘I can’t believe it. Surely you made lots of money, you shouldn’t be delivering pizza.’ He rummaged around in the bag he had with him and handed me a soda, opening it for me. I drank to sooth my throat and settle the food that had gone the wrong way.

‘Yes, but money, it doesn’t last forever. I gave some to mi madre, bought her a house.’ I felt myself tear up at his generosity. He sighed. ‘My last job, they don’t pay me. I wait so I can buy my ticket home.’

‘You’re not working now? Surely you’re still…’ I paused, embarrassed ‘You’ve still got your good looks.’ he shrugged again.

‘I will find more work soon, but for now I delvier pizza.’

‘But you went to all sorts of places, I saw…’ I paused, flushing again ‘On Instagram.’

‘Oh, you saw my pictures?’ he said, excited ‘Yes I went to many  beautiful places.’

‘I ummm – like my posts. But then you like everyones’ posts.’ He raised his eyebrows as he sat and ate more pizza.

‘Oh okay - what do you say?’

‘I – errm well it’s usually just a set of emoticons. I expect you just went down the list of comments clicking ‘like’’ I blushed.

‘Show me’ he said, and my heart fluttered yet again. With shaking hand I got out my phone and showed him – raised eyebrows, heart, flame. He laughed.

‘You think that photo was hot?’ he looked at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile. I wished the floor would swallow me up. He patted my arm ‘I’m sorry, I embarrass you. It’s okay, I’m used to it, it’s how I made money. I am fortunate – I have good looks, people pay me to look good’ I could sit and listen to his voice all night with its sing song rhythm, I thought to myself. He leaned forward ‘You should see me in the morning – I’m a mess.’ he said, mussing up his hair and flashing his white teeth. I gulped at the thought of seeing him first thing in the morning, his head on the pillow next to me, the warmth of his body – I snapped myself out of it before I went any further.

‘And now you’re paid to deliver pizza.’ He made a deprecating gesture.

‘All those clothes – you know I don’t get to keep very many.’ he said ‘And the things they do to make them look good – they pin them at the back, find exactly the right angle to shoot from.’ He waved his piece of pizza ‘I lay down in cold water with – how you say – gooses pimples – while they take the shot.’ In my mind I remembered the semi nude photo shoot at the beach and made a super human effort to concentrate.

‘Goose pimples.’ I smiled ‘that must have been difficult.’

‘Oh it can be so tiring – getting up early, sitting in make up for hours, having my hair styled, waiting around for people, for the right light, finding the right angle, the photographer shouts at you if you get it wrong. Is hard.’

‘Sounds like it.’ I took another slice and we sat quietly for a while – strangely it wasn’t awkward. He made me feel at ease. ‘You chose a strange corner of the world to stop.’ I said. ‘There are some beautiful places not far away in the Lake District – probably not as spectacular as some of the places you’ve been, but they have their own charm.’ He raised his eyebrows.

‘Si, I like to see.’ he said ‘I don’t work all week, I get time off but it’s difficult to get out. The bike belong to Mario and he need it for deliveries.’ I felt myself getting excited as an idea formed in my mind.

‘I could show you... I have a car, I could drive you…’ He looked at me, surprised.

‘Oh’ he said ‘I don’t know…’ I blushed furiously.

‘I’m sorry, it was just a thought.’ I mumbled, looking down at my feet, heart sinking. I’d blown it – we’d been getting on so well.

‘What’s your name?’ he asked. ‘I only get the surname and address. You know mine.’ I looked up at him. His expression was kind, his eyes soft.

‘Oh – umm, I’m Lisa.’ I replied. He held his hand out with a big smile

‘I like it. I’d like to see the Lakes with you, it’s very kind of you, Lisa.’ I took his hand and he gripped it in a firm handshake.

‘Really?’ I asked. ‘you don’t have to say yes because you feel sorry for me.’

‘No, for real. It would be nice – an adventure. I take your number, and I call you.’ he said. He took out his mobile phone and tapped away. In a daze I told him the number – he tapped away again and my phone rang for a couple of seconds. ‘There’ he said ‘Just add my name so you know who it is – I call tomorrow. I should go home now, thanks Lisa.’ He rose, shrugging on his jacket and picking up his helmet. I got up shakily as he turned to go, and saw him to the door. He turned back to me and put his hand on my shoulder.

‘In Argentina, we say goodbye like this.’ he said, and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. I put my hand on the wall as my knees buckled again. His aftershave was crisp and woodsy, and I waved as he walked down the path to his bike, putting his helmet on. He waved back as he set off, and I stood in the doorway for – I don’t know how long. I was just stunned. What the hell just happened? I pinched myself – ouch, I wasn’t dreaming – well not at that moment. I looked at my phone. There was his number – I had managed to mark it ‘Fab Zun’ with shaking fingers only a few moments ago. I went back in a dream to look at the half eaten pizza and the can of soda on my coffee table. I had to keep my phone charged.

Tomorrow, Fabio Zuno, my heartthrob and the subject of many a fevered fantasy would call me.

[silverlightqueen]

Cops and Robbers

(crimelord!Taehyung and MI6!reader) - smut with a lil bit of fluff

Summary - You’ve been trying to track down Kim Taehyung, the crimelord that is also your childhood best friend, for months, and you’ve never been more stressed than you are now. But when you finally come to head-to-head with the boy from your past, maybe he’ll find a way to relieve the stress?

Warnings - v v smutty ig, dom!Tae, oral, dirty talk, unprotected sex, a lil bit of cum play, intercourse, overstimulation, just smutty basically🤷🏽

a/n: I was planning on keeping this just as a one shot, but I might write a couple more chapters, idk though, don’t hold me to it 

I blink drowsily, feeling confused and out of it. I wind my neck, having slept on it at an uncomfortable angle, and arch my back, hearing my bones click. I go to stretch my arms above my head, but they don’t move. I try once more but, again, they don’t move. They’re restrained. I feel a sudden sense of fear and my eyes fly wide open, taking in my surroundings. I’m in an expensive looking hotel room decked out with grandeur, sat facing the one wall that is completely made of glass. I’m in a chair, my arms and legs tied to the strong wood of the chair. I try to scream and realise that my mouth is covered with tape. I exhale deeply, trying to steady my rocketing heart rate, before the door behind me opens, and then closes. I hear footsteps, getting louder, before the familiar deep voice drawls out into the room. ‘My, my, Y/N. You aren’t having the best day, are you, darling?’

He isn’t wrong. My day has been pretty terrible. For the past few months, I’ve been in an unfamiliar city, on a mission to track down one of the most dangerous and powerful crime lords around, Kim Taehyung. Also known as my childhood best friend. All of my other colleagues that have gone after him have either come back injured, or not come back at all. So they sent me, their most promising agent at the moment, to find him and take him down in the hopes that he’d go easier on me due to our past. And they weren’t wrong. He hasn’t injured me at all, gone very easy on me. But, at the same time, there’s no way in hell that Taehyung will let himself get caught, not if he’s anything like the stubborn boy he used to be. Every time I feel like I’m getting somewhere, every time I nearly catch him, he disappears, and the task seems impossible again. It’s like trying to catch smoke, grasping at thin air like an idiot. I’ve never been more irritated in my life than I am now, and I was lying awake in bed at 3am, I was so frustrated and angry that I just had to find some kind of… release. And so I was nearly there, so close, it was just in reach, when my stupid phone rang. I answered, fuming, to find out that my bosses had received an anonymous tip as to where Taehyung was. So I went, still on the edge, to the address they’d given me, stood in the middle of alleyway when I heard a little scuffle behind me, and as I turned to see what it was, everything went black.

And here I am now, having just been abducted, by none other than the person I was supposed to be finding. I sigh, the tension flooding out of my body, now that I know I’m not in danger. He won’t hurt me. He comes into my eyeline before stopping in front of me, looking down at me in amusement. ‘Now, this isn’t very hospitable, is it? Apologies on behalf of my staff, Y/N,’ he says, reaching a big hand forward and grasping on to the tape across my mouth. I brace myself as he rips it off, willing myself not to flinch, and I see one of his eyebrows raise in amusement. ‘Strong girl,’ he says, with a hint of pride in his voice, and I lock eyes with him. This is the first time I’ve seen him properly, in bright light and, I can’t lie, he’s grown from a cute boy into an intimidatingly handsome man. Tall and broad figure, strong bone structure, clear and tanned skin, soft grey hair. Right now, he’s dressed in a pair of fitted black trousers, a black Gucci belt around his slim hips, with a loose white, long-sleeved shirt tucked into the trousers, the top few buttons open, baring his smooth chest and showing a thin gold chain around his neck. A black headband holds back his grey locks, tied at the back of his head, and a pair of black Gucci brogues are on his feet, shining and spotless in the light streaming through the window. But as handsome as he is, he’s doubly annoying, a pest in my life.

‘What do you want, Taehyung?’ I ask, annoyed. ‘I should be asking you that question. You’re the one who’s been hunting me for the past couple months,’ he says casually, turning around and walking towards the window, looking out at the beautiful view. Judging by how much the sky has lightened, it must be around 7 in the morning, the sun just beginning to rise, letting a warm glow fall over the city. ‘It’s my job. Trust me, I wouldn’t be doing it by choice,’ I spit, and he chuckles lowly. ‘Taehyung, I’m not in the mood for games. Why have you brought me here?’ I ask, annoyed, and he turns to look at me, leaning against the window, curiosity etched across his features. ‘What’s gotten into you today?’ he inquires, watching me, his arms folded across his chest. ‘Nothing, I’m always like this,’ I say, wanting to leave. ‘No, you’re usually a raging bitch. But this is different, this is moody Y/N, from when we were kids. And something must have happened to keep your mind occupied, otherwise you wouldn’t have allowed yourself to be caught so easily,’ he observes. ‘I got an anonymous tip.’ ‘Yeah, from me, you moron. But I wasn’t expecting it to actually work, because you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever known. You’d make a fantastic accomplice. But anyway, what’s happened?’ he asks, eyes boring into me. ‘Nothing, stop being so nosy,’ I say, shifting in my seat slightly due to the uncomfortable feeling between my thighs. And Taehyung, having known me so well, notices the tiny movement, and his face lights up.

‘No, it can’t be! You weren’t getting dicked down, were you?’ he asks, wonderment in his tone, and I nearly gasp aloud at his prying. ‘Really, Taehyung? No,’ I say, and he nods. ‘Were you rubbing one out then?’ he asks, and I’m shocked at him hitting the nail on the head. ‘No,’ I reply, hoping he won’t see through me. This is one flaw in my bosses’ idea to send me out; I know him well, but he knows me well too. He was the only person to be able to tell when I was lying. I never knew how, but he did. ‘Liar,’ he drawls. Clearly he still can tell. ‘I’m not lying,’ I say, and he chuckles. ‘Don’t bother, Y/N, you know I know you better than that. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We all have needs. I’m just surprised a woman like you still hasn’t got someone to fulfil them for you,’ he says, and I hesitate, wanting to open up to the friend I miss so much. ‘I just… I just want a good night’s sleep, Tae. I’m so stressed and frustrated, not to mention the pressure my bosses are putting on me, and I just wanted to relieve the stress. I just want a good night’s sleep,’ I say honestly, the words flowing out of me like a river, and I know my bosses would fire me on the spot if they saw me show my vulnerability to a target. And I realise that, when I would (and probably should) regret confessing like this, I don’t regret it in the slightest. It’s not like Tae and I haven’t confessed to each other before about this kind of stuff; we went to high school together, for fuck’s sake. It’s like second nature for us to tell each other about our sex-capades.

‘Aww, Y/N, I’m sorry, I really am. It’s your job, I get that. But you and I both know I’m not letting myself get handed in to MI6,’ he says, stood just a few feet in front of me. ‘So I guess I’m gonna be on a fruitless wild goose chase for a while then,’ I sigh, already feeling the tiredness of the next few months descend on me. ‘Unless…’ he trails off, looking at me thoughtfully. ‘Don’t pull that face. That’s your scheming face. I hate that face,’ I say. ‘I was planning on taking a picture of you like this and using it for a ransom, because that way, it would’ve ended your ‘fruitless wild goose chase’ but now I’ve got an idea,’ he says slowly. ‘No, Tae, I don’t wanna hear it, your ideas are always stupid,’ I say, and he chuckles lowly. ‘I have a feeling you’ll like this one,’ he says, kneeling in front of me, our eyes at the same level. ‘How about… you let me relieve some of that stress for you, baby girl?’ he says gently, and my stomach turns at his words.

‘Tae…’ I say uneasily, as he raises a hand to the side of my face. ‘All you have to do is say no. Just tell me to stop, and I will,’ he promises, and I know he’s telling the truth. But, I’m at the point now where I don’t want him to stop. Not in the slightest. He grins to himself when I don’t say anything, and he knows he’s got me right where he wants me. His hands travel to my restraints and he deftly unties them with long fingers, my limbs free once more. He stands up, pulling me up from the chair, and pulls my body up against his. He tilts my chin up, my eyes meeting his, just as he presses his plump lips to mine. I gasp, eyes sliding shut, as his mouth moves against mine, our tongues moving in sync as he takes control of the kiss. He walks me backwards, pushing me down onto the bed, and climbs over me, reattaching our lips again. It’s bliss, pure unadulterated bliss, feeling his hands run over my body and his mouth on mine. I reach up, running my hands through his hair, and he groans lowly when I gently pull his locks. He breaks our kiss then, sitting up, and skilfully pops open the buttons on my jeans, pulling the tight material down my legs. After throwing my jeans onto the floor of the hotel room, his fingers find the hem of my black sweater, and deftly tugs it up over me, the air cold against my newly exposed skin.

‘Beautiful,’ he breathes out, and his low tone sends a shiver down my spine. He stares down at me for a moment, his eyes drinking me in, and I whine, ‘Tae, do something.’ ‘You always were impatient,’ he teases, his lips coming to meet mine once more. After a few seconds, they disappear again, reattaching to my jaw instead, trailing down my jaw to my collarbones, biting and sucking on the skin. My hands tangle into his hair, letting out small whines and whimpers as his mouth works magic on my body. Slowly, he trails down my chest and my stomach until he reaches my black lace and cotton pants. ‘These are pretty. Shame they’ve gotta go,’ he murmurs against my skin before his teeth attach to the pants and he pulls them down my legs, the cold air hitting my heat. I hiss as he throws them over his shoulder, spreading my legs slowly with his big hands. I look down at him, hands still tangled into his hair, as he runs his tongue over his lower lip. ‘Fuck,’ he exhales, ‘you’re fucking soaked, Y/N. Poor baby. Who’s this for, baby girl?’ He puffs out over my heat, and I whine. ‘Tae, please, touch me,’ I whine, and he lands a harsh slap to my pussy, sending a pleasurable shock through me. ‘Answer me, Y/N. Who’s got your pussy gushing like this?’ he growls. ‘You, Tae, it’s all you. Just, please, do something,’ I almost beg, all of my pride having disappeared, and he chuckles. ‘Okay, baby girl, you’ve waited long enough,’ he admits, spreading my lips with his fingers. I hiss gently, as he gathers up some of my slick with two of his fingers before, without any warning, he plunges them both straight into me.

I let out a moan, my head falling back as his fingers slowly pump in and out of me, his eyes trained on me. He sets a steady rhythm, his small movements making me fall apart, showing just how desperate I am. He adds another finger, having me gasping and closing my thighs. ‘Legs open, baby girl,’ he says, his free hand pushing my legs open again. His fingers speed up then, my hips bucking up, and he tuts. ‘You’re such a bad girl, Y/N. Keep still,’ he says forcefully, his hand holding me against the bed once more. And then, without warning, he removes his fingers. I whine, looking down at him as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking off every last drop, our eyes locked. ‘Delicious,’ he drawls, before his eyes travel across my body again. ‘Fuck, this needs to come off,’ he says, his hands going to my back and undoing the clasp of my bra. He tears it away from my body, discarding it off to one side, and his mouth instantly attaches to one of my hardening nipples. I moan, and he hums against my skin, ‘You like that, baby girl? Does it feel good?’ My hands tangle into his locks again, my head falling back against the pillow as he pulls away from my nipple. ‘Baby, you need to answer my questions, okay? You need to tell me what feels good. Understand?’ he asks, and I nod hastily. His lips attach to the other nipple now, his tongue swirling around the hardened bud. ‘Does it feel good, baby girl?’ he asks. ‘Fuck, yes, yes, it does, don’t stop, please,’ I breathe out, and he nods in approval.

I’m so caught up in his mouth at my breasts that I nearly shout out when a finger plunges back into my heat. I moan his name loudly, feeling him add another finger straight away, pumping at a fast pace. His fingers curl inside me then, hitting the spongy part deep inside me, and I moan again, his fingers paired with his lips around my nipple makes my mind completely void of anything but pleasure. ‘You like that, Y/N? Does my dirty girl like that? You like my fingers in you whilst I suck on your nipples, huh, baby girl?’ he asks, moving from my chest and looking down at my face scrunched up in pleasure. ‘Yes, Tae, fuck,’ I moan, his fingers curling against the spot repeatedly. ‘Good girl. You want more?’ he asks, and I breathe out a yes. ‘Fuck yourself on my fingers then. Go on, baby girl, go ahead,’ he prompts, his words sending a wave of desire through me, and I do what he says, instantly grinding down against his hand, his fingers going deeper than before, the pleasure coursing through my veins at the new sensation. ‘Come on, baby girl, I want you to fuck yourself and cum around my fingers,’ he instructs, the dirty words doing unmentionable things to me. I quicken my pace, grinding down impossibly fast on his fingers, but I already know it’s nowhere near enough to make me cum. ‘Tae, please,’ I beg. ‘What, baby girl? Tell me what you want.’ ‘Your mouth, Tae, I want your mouth,’ I plead, and he chuckles. ‘Greedy baby girl, aren’t my fingers enough? I guess not, huh?’ he says, pulling his fingers away and instantly licking a stripe up my pussy. ‘Fuck, Tae, yes,’ I moan, my hands in his hair pulling him further and further into my core.

‘You know, I remember when we were in our last year of high school, and you’d been on a date with that kid. What was his name? Minhyuk, or something like that. You’d gone home with him after the date but then you’d snuck back home after he fell asleep, and I was waiting for you in your room. And I asked you why you’d left, why you hadn’t stayed the night. Do you remember what you said?’ he asks against my pussy, the vibrations against my heat coupled with his fingers still pumping in and out of me making it hard to focus on his words. ‘Nuh-uh,’ I force out, knowing he’ll get annoyed if I don’t reply again. ‘You said, ‘It was the shittest sex I’ve ever had. He flopped around on top of me for a few minutes, and then tried to take me from behind, and he didn’t even make me cum. He was rubbing me, thinking he’d found my clit, but he hadn’t. Just another one to add to the list of stupid boys that haven’t managed to make me cum’. And you know what I thought? I thought that no boy would ever be able to make you cum like I would be able to. I’m gonna prove that to you now,’ he says determinedly, before his tongue delves into my pussy.

I cry out as his tongue licks against my walls, attacking my core as I moan his name repeatedly, trying so hard to keep still as he gets me closer to the edge. His thumb finds my clit then, rubbing in gentle circles, and I whine loudly. ‘Take that Minhyuk,’ he says into my pussy, and I would’ve laughed if he hadn’t pressed even harder on my clit. I feel the knot building up in my stomach, knowing he’ll make good of his promise of no one being able to make me cum like he will. He removes his mouth and fingers then but, before I can complain, he switches places, his fingers delving into me once more as his lips attach to my clit, pulling and sucking on the bundle of nerves. I cry out, feeling the tears coming to my eyes as he continues his attack on me, pushing me nearer to the edge. ‘Come on, baby girl, you’re nearly there, I know it,’ he says, adding another finger and quickening his pace, hitting the spot every single time, his lips around my clit sending me wild. I feel the pleasure building and building, knowing I’m close. ‘Fuck, Tae, I’m…’ I trail off, my back arching off the back at the different sensations he’s giving me. And then his teeth graze against my clit and I feel myself reaching my climax with a shout of his name, my body weakening after my orgasm.

Once I’m coming down from my high, I feel him run his fingers around my pussy, gathering up the wetness from my orgasm, and he lifts his hand to my mouth. Obediently, I open my mouth and take in his fingers, licking all of my own cum off his hand. ‘Such a good girl,’ he says affectionately before climbing off the bed. He slips off his shoes and socks before looking over at me. ‘Come on, baby girl, be a darling and help me out,’ he says, motioning at himself, and I muster up the energy to undress him. I kneel at the end of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt before pushing it over his shoulders, the white material falling to the floor, revealing the tan skin pulled over his sculpted muscles. He watches me admiring him with a smirk before my hands travel up and down his chest, feeling the muscles beneath my fingers. I run my nails down his V line and I hear his breath hitch slightly. ‘Don’t tease,’ he says lowly, and I quickly begin opening his belt before unbuttoning his trousers, pulling them down his legs, leaving me face-to-face with the bulge in his black Balenciaga boxers. I pull them down as well, his hard length springing up against his abs, and I feel intimidated by the size of it. Long, thick and hard. I take a deep breath, feeling him watching me, before his hand comes up to his length and he pumps it a few times, preparing himself. I open my mouth, expecting him to want head, but he chuckles. ‘You’re so good, baby girl, but not this time. I want your pussy instead, but I’ll take you up on that offer another time. Maybe I’ll cum in your mouth after I’ve fucked you,’ he muses, gently pushing me back on to the bed and climbing over me once more.

‘Take this off, baby girl,’ he instructs, motioning up to his head band, and I untie it quickly, his soft locks spilling out onto his forehead. He takes it from me and pulls my arms up above my head, tying my wrists to the bed frame. ‘If it gets too much, just say… MI6,’ he says with a mischievous grin, and I roll my eyes. The anticipation is just too much. I’ve been desperate for some kind of release for months, so I just need him to hurry up. ‘Are you still on the pill, baby girl?’ he asks as I wrap my legs around his waist, and I nod. ‘Good,’ he says, before plunging into me up to the hilt. ‘Fuck,’ we both moan out in chorus, and he pauses for a few moments, giving me some time to adjust. ‘Ready?’ he asks, and I nod. He pulls all the way out before slamming into me again, filling me up completely. ‘Fuck, Tae,’ I moan out, pulling against my restraints wanting to touch him. He starts at a slow pace, pulling almost completely out before slamming all the way back in, sending strong waves of pleasure through me. ‘Why the fuck are you so tight? I thought your pussy was supposed to get looser during sex,’ he says, his breathing laboured, but all that comes out my mouth in reply are moans and whimpers.

He quickens his pace then, his balls slapping against my ass as he speeds up, his thrusts hard. ‘Does that feel good, baby girl? What do you want me to do?’ he asks, going at a steady but quick pace, his hips snapping up smoothly to meet mine. ‘Harder, Tae, please, go harder, and faster,’ I whimper out, and he chuckles. ‘You haven’t even properly adjusted yet,’ he laughs, but fulfils my wish nonetheless, going quicker and deeper into me. It’s like I can feel him in my stomach. Unintelligible words fall from my lips as he goes faster and harder, my hands pulling hard on their restraints, wanting so bad to run my hands through his hair or grip onto his shoulder muscles. ‘Fuck, Tae, yes,’ I utter, the moans only spurring him on. ‘God, how would your bosses react if they saw their star agent whining like a little bitch for the guy she’s supposed to be bringing in? What would they do if they saw you getting your pussy pounded by me? Saw me balls deep in you? They wouldn’t be too impressed, I guess,’ he says, his words sending a rush to my core. The feeling of knowing that what I’m doing is so wrong only turns me on more. One of his hands begins rubbing furiously against my clit, the other hand still holding himself up whilst he pounds into me. ‘Look at me, Y/N. Look at me whilst I fuck you,’ Tae growls, and I muster up all my strength to look him in the eyes, my face scrunched up with pleasure. ‘Shit, Tae, I’m gonna…’ I say, feeling the knot build up again in my stomach, tears dripping down my face. ‘Ah, I know, I can feel you clenching around me, baby girl,’ he says, going even faster and deeper, his cock rubbing against the spot that has my eyes rolling back into my head from how good it feels. He increases the speed of his hand on my clit and my orgasm washes over me as I shout out his name, my back arching up into him.

He pulls out, his length still hard as he hasn’t climaxed yet, and he moves down the bed, licking my pussy clean. Then he gets up from the bed and unties me from the headboard, before pulling me up too, my legs unsteady, and leading me over to the window. He presses me up against it, my naked body flat against the cold glass. ‘How does it make you feel that those people down there could just look up and see you like this, huh, baby girl?’ he asks, swiping a finger across my slit. ‘God, look how wet you’ve already gotten at the thought of it. You’ve only just cum, Y/N,’ he says incredulously, and I hear him lick his finger clean. ‘Spread your legs, darling, hands against the window,’ he growls, and I do as he says, not even settled in the position before he plunges all the way in from behind. I moan out, my head falling so my chin hits my chest, but he gathers up my hair in his hand and pulls it, hard, my head whipping back. He pounds into me at an alarming rate, one hand gripping my hair and the other holding my waist, and I already feel an impending orgasm. My legs go weak, my entire body shaking, and he sighs. ‘Are you tired, baby girl? Come on,’ he says, pulling out and turning me around to face him. He puts his arms around me and lifts me, pushing my back up against the window, and I wrap my legs around his waist instinctively. I sink onto him slowly, our eyes locked together as he groans and I whimper, my lower lip between my teeth. ‘Stop biting your lip and let me instead,’ he says, pressing his mouth to mine, his teeth pulling at my lip, followed by his tongue running over it. ‘Fuck, I can taste your pussy from your mouth, baby girl,’ he murmurs against my mouth, his words followed by a moan from me.

He starts at a slow pace, wanting to last a bit longer, as one of my hands grips onto his shoulder muscle, the other tangling into the hair at the nape of his neck. I tug at his locks and he groans into my mouth, the sound heavenly, before he slams all the way into me, my head falling back against the window. ‘Look at me, Y/N,’ he growls, and I force myself to look at him. His hair is pasted to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks are very slightly flushed. His lips are swollen from our kisses and his eyes are wide and dark. He thrusts into me at a steady pace, going so deep, and I attach my lips to the skin at his neck, wanting to leave my own marks on him. He lets out low whimpers and groans that have my heart fluttering. ‘Fuck, Y/N, stop clenching,’ he growls as I pull on the skin at his jaw. ‘Does this feel good, baby girl? Tell me what you want,’ he asks, slowing slightly, and I pull away from his neck. ‘Deeper, Tae,’ I plead, and he chuckles, lifting one of my legs to sit over his shoulder. He plunges back into me, the new angle allowing him to go much deeper, and my eyes roll back at the feeling. ‘Fuck, Tae, feels so good,’ I whine, and he attaches his lips to one of my nipples, the hand that isn’t holding me up beginning to rub at my clit. The multiple sensations have me nearing the edge, the moans falling from my mouth like I’m in a porno.

‘You’re such a dirty girl, Y/N. Fucking your target, a crimelord, no less. Asking me to go deeper when you can barely even handle what I’m already giving you. At this rate, you won’t want me to stop ‘til your pussy’s torn in half. Is that what you want, baby girl?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘So dirty and needy. But baby just wants to sleep, right? You just want me to relieve your stress, right, baby girl?’ he asks, and I nod, tears streaming down my face, feeling my orgasm building up bit by bit. ‘You’re so fucking hot, Y/N, and fucking filthy. God, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,’ he moans against my nipple, his thrusts getting sloppier as we both near our orgasms. ‘Whose pussy is this, baby girl? Who does it belong to, huh, Y/N?’ he asks me, panting. ‘Tae, please, I’m gonna…’ I whine, my mind whirling. ‘No, Y/N, if you don’t tell me who your pussy belongs to, you are not cumming. Answer me, baby girl,’ he demands. ‘You, Tae, you, it’s all yours,’ I cry, and he grins widely, increasing his pace. His fingers work impossibly fast against my clit and before I know it, I’m tumbling over the edge, my third orgasm washing over me, my nails digging into his back, my head against the window. ‘Where do you want my cum, Y/N? In your mouth, maybe? All over your tits? Or stuffed into your tight little pussy? Answer me, baby girl, I’m nearly there,’ he growls, taking his mouth from my nipple. ‘Inside me, Tae, please,’ I whine, and he grins. He quickens his pace for a few seconds, going so hard and fast, before I feel him cum inside me, his release spurting out against my walls. ‘Fuck, Y/N, god, your pussy’s so good, baby girl, so good,’ he praises as he rides out his high.

Once we’ve both recovered from our orgasms, he pulls out and puts me down. ‘Look at that, baby girl, our cum mixed together, dripping down your leg. Don’t waste it,’ he says, scooping it up and lifting his fingers to my mouth. I lick them clean obediently and he kisses me as praise. ‘Sleep now, baby girl, we’ll talk once you’ve slept,’ he says, leading me over to the bed. My whole body is weak, completely exhausted, and so I fall asleep almost immediately after falling onto the bed, only staying awake long enough to feel Tae climb in behind me, cuddling up against me.

#bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #taehyung #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut

[winterromanov]

she’s the sunset (in the west) - thasmin fic (2/?)

Yaz doesn’t make promises lightly. It’s one of her things. A promise should be taken seriously, carried out. If she’s promised to bake a cake for the school summer fair even though she can’t bake for shit, she’s still going to do it, layering the burnt bits in slightly sloppy buttercream. If she’s promised to take her parents to the airport at 3am on a school day, she’ll set an alarm and turn up to work the next morning on with a coffee stapled to her hands.

If she’s promised to find Poppy Smith some friends, she’s one hundred percent going to do that too. She remembers the warmth in Joanna’s eyes at the thought of it—this feels important, like she could actually change something. It might not work. It might be that in less than a year’s time Poppy will move up into year one and nothing will have changed, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t try.

She brainstorms ideas at her tiny kitchen table as soon as she comes through the door. Ryan’s not home yet so she violently clatters all his dirty crockery into the empty sink, dragging her flipchart paper down the stairs (which she saves only for special occasions). An hour later, her whole kitchen wall is covered in bright pink post-it notes, like she’s attempting some spontaneous redecorating.

“What the—“

Yaz almost jumps out of her skin, black marker sliding out of her fingers and onto the floor. She’d been so absorbed in her new project she’d never heard the front door creak open—and that’s quite a feat considering Ryan’s just come in from football practice, the studs of his boots usually clicking on the laminate like a herd of women in stiletto heels.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” she exclaims, heartrate slowly easing back to normal. Ryan rolls his eyes.

“I literally didn’t, but okay,” he huffs, refusing to look away from the chaos she’s created. He squints as he expertly manoeuvres his dirty kit from his bag to the washing machine—if only he could do that with the socks he leaves stranded in the hallway, she muses. “What the fuck is duck-duck-goose?”

“You’ve never heard of duck-duck-goose?” Yaz asks, open mouthed. Ryan bemusedly shakes his head. “Did you even go to primary school?”

Ryan shrugs. A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Not if I could help it, no. Mum was a pushover but Nan never believed me when I told her I had the Japanese flu or whatever.”

“I bet she didn’t,” Yaz hums, because Grace never took any of Ryan’s shit. Not even at the end.

The two of them stand in silence for a moment, like every time Ryan mentions the lost women of his family. Yaz has never felt the pain he has. She can see it in his eyes, sometimes, how it lingers like fog. Dense and dirty but fading, eventually. Slowly.

But it’s okay, he has her. He’s always got her.

(It makes her think of Joanna Smith, again. About the dad that’s not around.)

Ryan snaps out of wistful reverie first, grabbing a beer out the fridge and snapping the lid on the kitchen table. Yaz throws him a look. He knows she hates that, which is probably why he does it. “What’s all this for anyway? Because if you’ve volunteered to lead another year six team-building weekend I’m going to be seriously questioning your sanity. Especially after last time.”

“No,” Yaz tuts, as if she’s going to make that same mistake twice, “There’s this kid in my class who is finding it hard to make friends. I’m trying to…think of something to solve that.”

Ryan takes a long sip of beer, studying more of her responses. “So you think a trip to the aquarium will fix it?”

Yaz shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe? Nothing gets five-year-olds talking more than jellyfish. That, and what they’re going to get at the gift shop on the way out.”

“I guess,” Ryan offers, but he doesn’t look too convinced. “Just… some kids don’t want to make friends, Yaz. As long as they don’t seem too unhappy, what’s the harm in it?”

“This kid is four, Ryan. It’s a very important stage in her social growth. If she doesn’t start developing those skills now when she’s little it could be a really big problem later on.”

“That’s a bit dramatic,” Ryan says, “All I’m saying…this is a lot of effort for just one kid. As far as you’re concerned, as long as they can count to ten and know most of the alphabet you’ve done your job. And don’t, uh, stick their fingers into plug sockets or something.”

Yaz just about resists the temptation to go off on just how wrong that is and just how Ryan could possibly understand anything about her job, how it’s never just one kid. Yes, she needs to teach them how to read and write and count. But she also needs to teach teamwork, conflict resolution, gratification. How you can’t hit someone with a building block or steal somebody’s sausage rolls at lunchtime. How you must listen to the people around you and acknowledge that sometimes you can’t win, whether that’s the star of the week accolade or someone’s forgiveness, straightaway. How you must be kind, always, forever.

The day she sees a kid in her class that’s struggling to fit in and she thinks it’s just one kid is the day she’ll walk away from teaching and never look back.

“Are you hungry?” Ryan asks, after a moment, “I haven’t eaten yet. Pizza?”

Yaz’s hand relaxes, flexing from a fist to loose. On an outtake of breath she runs a hand through her hair, before nodding. “Yeah, sure.”

“Cool,” Ryan already has his phone out, scrolling through the options on Dominoes. “Hey, Yaz, if you went through this much effort for a bloke maybe you’d finally get laid.”

It’s meant as a joke but—ha. Yeah. Maybe.

-x-

As it happens, it doesn’t matter how many neatly written post-it notes and mind maps you make. Children will always be ridiculously unpredictable, like they’re wired completely different to every single other person aged eighteen or over. She tries class games, seating plans, even outdoor learning in the summerhouse on the grassy quad near the upper school playground—but nothing will encourage Poppy Smith to talk to the other children, or the other children to talk to her.

Instead, Poppy becomes incredibly attached to Yaz. And that is really, honestly, the last thing she wanted.

“You know, it’s really sunny outside today, Poppy,” Yaz says, as in a new turn of events, Poppy refuses to follow the other children out onto the playground during lunch break. Instead, the little girl stays in her seat, taking her dark blue starry-patterned pack lunch box out of her draw and unpacking it onto the table. “I think some of the other girls were thinking about playing with the new skipping ropes. Wouldn’t you like to play with the skipping ropes?”

Poppy shakes her head decidedly. Silently, she removes a small peanut-butter and banana sandwich from her box and places it in front of her. Yaz watches as she nibbles round the corners first before eating the filling.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to go outside?” Yaz asks, somewhat weakly, because she has a feeling Poppy won’t give in to her hints easily. “It’s so dark in here and I have to mark your handwriting worksheets!”

“I want to stay with you, Miss Khan.”

When two little eyes blink innocently back at her, Yaz finds it very hard to resist. Technically, as long as she’s not on her own, it’s not breaking any rules. It’s just—this is not in the plan. It’s not good to let a kid become too attached. It goes against every instinct she has as a teacher, but she knows if she forces Poppy outside she’ll go back to silently stalking the edge of the playground with her book about space, lost in a world of her own.

If she’s in here—just for today—at least she’s in her company. Talking to someone.

“Okay,” Yaz smiles tightly, “As long as you promise to go outside tomorrow, yeah?”

Poppy nods happily and returns to her sandwich.

-x-

Quite by chance, today just so happens to be the day that Joanna is late. As one-by-one the kids spot their parents or guardians in the playground and head off back home, rain splattering off bright red wellies and raincoats, Poppy stands on her tip-toes and peers into the murky outside. The weather has turned somewhat since lunchtime.

Yaz looks at her watch. Quarter to four. The playground is mostly empty, other than a group of mums nattering by the gates, restless kids hanging off their arms or in pushchairs.

It’s the second time she’s been left waiting for Joanna Smith, Yaz ponders, and wonders if it’ll be the last time. She sighs, looking at the back of Poppy’s head, watching as the little girl’s eyes lock on to everything and everyone walking past the school.

“I’m sure she’ll be here soon, Poppy,” Yaz says, gently smoothing Poppy’s hair. Poppy looks back up at her, eyes wide and concerned.

“What if she’s gone to the moon without me?” Poppy asks quietly. Yaz shakes her head with a smile, crouching down so their faces are level.

“Your mum wouldn’t do that, I promise,” Yaz says, “She’d always wait for you. I’m sure of that.”

Poppy frowns. “My daddy didn’t.”

Oh. Oh. Yaz freezes for a second, like she always does when a kid says something like that. You know—something unbearably sad, something hanging and poignant, one of those things that just slips out because kids don’t hide anything. Kids have sad stories too. They carry tragedies in their reading folders, hidden under exercise books and friendship bracelets and constellations of gold star stickers.

Yaz takes one of Poppy’s tiny hands in her own. Notices the stars she’s etched on her palms in blue biro pen. “Look at me, Poppy. Your mummy isn’t going to leave you behind. Ever.”

(It’s a big, big promise. She doesn’t realise it at the time, but it’s the biggest one she’s ever made—because sometimes, sometimes people don’t come back. Or you don’t go back to them. Maybe it’s the first promise she’s made that she won’t be able to keep. Sometime.)

Poppy’s disgruntled expression shifts into a smile, and Yaz can’t help but grin back. When she stands, still clutching onto Poppy’s hand, she can see through the raindrops on the window a shaky, grey figure running towards the door. Against her better judgement, she can feel her heart do something she doesn’t want to put a name to.

The glass door opens and Joanna emerges from the cold, her anorak dripping rain onto the floor in mad, abstract patterns. She pulls down her hood and her blonde hair is a chaotic mess of drenched natural waves—it reminds Yaz of tides and sea-salt and white-sand beaches, somewhere cluttered and rugged like the Northern coast. The kind of water that leaves you freezing but dazzlingly awake, shivering in clean, white towels with piles of seashells in your pockets.

Joanna blinks and catches eyes with Yaz. Grins. “I’m making a habit of this, aren’t I?”

Poppy replies first, dashing towards her mother excitedly. She grabs Joanna’s legs in a hug and Joanna laughs, ruffling her hair.

“Oh, baby, you’ll get all wet,” Joanna murmurs, before clearly deciding that Poppy is going to get wet going outside anyway. She scoops her up into her arms and kisses Poppy’s cheek messily, Poppy’s hands looping round her neck.

“You didn’t go to the moon without me,” Poppy says matter-of-factly.

“Of course I didn’t,” Joanna answers, before looking confusedly back at Yaz, forehead scrunching. “I would never leave you behind. Never ever.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Yaz reassures, “Your mummy was just late, Poppy. Nothing to worry about.”

Joanna grimaces, shifting to bring Poppy further up her hip. “Yeah—I’m so sorry about that, I…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yaz responds, smiling comfortingly. Joanna seems to take it, smiling back. “No harm done, eh?”

“No, I suppose not,” Joanna’s eyes seem focussed on Yaz’s face for a second or two, and her heart is doing that thing again, that ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum that she’s only ever really felt when Harry Styles winked at her during a One Direction concert fucking years ago.

(Was it really that long ago, huh? Have men really been that disappointing since?)

“Well,” Joanna says, breaking the silence, “I think you deserve a treat, ay, Pop? Ice cream?”

Poppy looks excited but Yaz laughs, glancing at the deluge outside. “You’ve certainly picked the perfect weather for it.”

“Mummy,” Poppy says pointedly, playing with Joanna’s wet hair, “Can Miss Khan come for ice cream with us?”

“Oh, uh—“ Joanna looks at Yaz expectantly, “I mean, of course she can, if you’re allowed…?”

Yaz pauses, because this is not a situation she’s encountered before, and she’s not sure what she’s supposed to do. It’s probably important to keep a professional distance from the kids in her class and their families. She knows she can’t show favouritism, but… this isn’t that, is it? This is just going for ice cream with a woman that she can’t help but want to get to know better. There’s a magnetic quality in Joanna. A one that makes all her wiring stutter and restart.

“You know what,” Yaz answers, after a moment, “That sounds like a lovely idea.”

(Oh, and this is when she discovers that she’ll do anything for a smile from either of the Smith women.)

#doctor who #dw #doctor who fic #doctor who au #thasmin #thasmin fic #doctor x yasmin #thirteenth doctor x yasmin khan #thirteen x yaz #thirteenth doctor #yasmin khan #thasmin au

[claitynroberts]

Chapter 1: How We First Met

About: This series is a retelling of the Persephone & Hades myth set in the present day southern United States. In an attempt to make her last days more bearable, 23 year old Magnolia makes a deal with the lord of the Underworld himself. Both the young mortal and the ruler of the dead learn new things about themselves.

Author’s Note: I have used several different versions of the Persephone myth to come up with this particular story. It will be broken down into several parts/chapters. if you like it please let me know! This is my first piece of writing I have ever posted on here so please bear with me, and send my any constructive criticisms. :)

Warnings: Nothing just yet, will update as I go!

Word Count: 2,666

Liam

This isn’t something I normally do, but something about this particular offer caught my attention. To be honest, I haven’t even made a deal in over one hundred fifty years. Usually I let one of my many underlings take care of that department while I oversee the day-to-day business that keeps our world running. But this day, this day was far from usual.

“Hey, Boss. We’ve got someone on the line wanting to make a transaction.”

“Morgan,” I said exasperatedly without looking up from the paperwork on my desk, “have you suddenly forgotten how to do the very simple task that is your job?”

“No, sir… It’s just that this young woman is asking for you…personally.”

“You know I don’t make deals, that is why you are in charge of your department. You have legions of crossroads demons under your authority, surely someone is capable of handling this girl.”

“But, sir, with all due res-.”

“NO,” I bellowed, looking up from the paperwork. “I have not made a deal since the War of Northern Aggression. That is why poor Honest Abe is currently in Tartarus being barbecued like a rack of ribs after church on Sunday. Handle this. If I have to go up there I will put you on the rack myself and barbecue your hide until it falls off what is left of your scrawny a-,”

“Why? Why did I do this? Magnolia Jane, your parents are going to be so disappointed…”

I looked up to the screen hanging on the far side of my office. On the TV stood a tall, curvy girl of twenty-something. She was dressed in what looked to be her pajamas, as scant as they were, and shivering beneath her thin robe. Her raven hair was shining in the full moonlight and it hung loose down to the middle of her back. She was pacing around in her house slippers talking to herself and waving her hands animatedly. When she turned around, I nearly forgot how to breathe she was so beautiful. Her eyes were balanced precariously on the edge of being the deep blue-grey of storm clouds before it rains and the dull silver of a favorite ring; and were set perfectly symmetrically to her slender nose and full lips.

“Sir,” Morgan tried gently, “do you think you may reconsider?”

I shot Morgan a scowl. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Excellent,” he said with a glint in his eye, “She’s waiting.”

Magnolia

I don’t normally do things like this. I mean, I was raised in a God-fearing household in good ole Dixie. Summoning demons is not in my wheelhouse of skills. It is twelve-o-one a.m. and I am standing in the intersection of two county roads about a mile and a half from my family’s farmhouse.

I know you’re probably wondering how a barely twenty-three-year-old woman from south Alabama could possibly know how to summon a demon. Well living in the south comes with its own superstitions, however when you’re this close to the swamp you can get a little dose of black magic if you know where to look. Long story short, I know a guy who knows a guy.

I have been standing in the middle of this crossroads for an hour now and have gone from disappointed, to angry with myself, to double checking the ritual and drawings, all the way back full circle to disappointed. After deciding I did everything right, I was beginning to accept the fact that my last hope failed me; I turned around dejected and prepared myself for the hike back to my house. Hopefully, sneaking back in wouldn’t wake my parents up.

“Going somewhere dear?” The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and goose bumps covered my body. I slowly turned around to see a tall, gaunt man standing in the middle of my dust drawing. “You know it really is quite rude to invite a guest over and leave before they arrive.”

“I-I-I’m sorry sir, but…wh-who are you,” I stammered, my mouth opening and closing repeatedly, which I’m sure made me look like a fish.

“Well my dear, you may call me Morgan,” he replied coolly and sketched a stiff bow, “pardon my tardiness but my previous business arrangement ran a little longer than expected.” His eyes glinted hardly in the full-moonlight and his greasy combed back hair looked like an oil slick.

“Oh…well… I would like to make a deal.” I attempted to straighten up to my full height and inject a smidge of confidence into my voice.

The stranger smirked and raised his bushy gray eyebrow. “Yes, I assumed so. What will it be, eh? You want to be rich?” He began pacing his circle, eyeing me the whole time and reading my face with his near repulsive stare. “No, no, that’s not it. Too unoriginal. You want true love?” He looked me over again. “No, that’s not it either. Hmmm…” he pondered, his long bony finger tapping against his pointed chin. “What could a young, beautiful woman like you want? Please don’t say immortality because that one is out of the question. I could possibly do youth but it runs at a pretty high price. Anyway, whatever it is please make it an original request. You don’t know how many of these I have to handle; the monotony can really get to you.”

“A friend.” I blurted out. I’m not sure what made me answer so quickly, but I know I wanted to get this done and over with A-S-A-P.

Taken aback he looked at me for a moment. “A friend? That’s it?”

“Yes,” I said trying not to look as terrified as I felt.

“Why on earth would you want to make a deal for a friend?” He seemed to snarl the last word with disdain and mockery. “I figured a beautiful woman like you would have more friends than one can count.” There was definitely a mocking tone in his voice that time.

“No…I don’t.”

“What would you give me in return? Magic isn’t free you know.”

“What is the normal going rate,” I asked curious, my voice only barley wavering this time.

“Well it usually works like this. People summon me, or one of my associates, then we ask them what they want. Riches, love, cures for illnesses, etcetera,” rambling he paced the circumference of the devil’s trap. “Then they get a time limit to enjoy whatever it is they asked for. When time is up, good ole Cerberus collects you and brings you downstairs.”

“Alright. Well…how about this. You get me a friend and when I die you can have my soul.”

“No can-do doll face.” He pantomimed a frown before continuing on. “You see I can only give you a maximum of fifteen years. Twenty if you’re lucky and the boss signs off on it.”

“I won’t need that long.” I looked down at the ground, pushing back the feelings of dread.

“Oh? And why is that?” He asked with the most enthusiasm I had heard him speak with all night.

“Listen, that’s personal business that you do not need to know.” I hardened my voice and schooled my emotions. “You came here because I summoned you to carry out a transaction. If it’s not doable you can either leave or put me in touch with whoever is in charge of you.”

He eyed me with those steel hard eyes again, his lip curling into a mixture of a sneer and a half-grin. “Well. The little mortal has a temper...and a backbone. You’ll understand this is very unusual; I am going to need to clear this with the boss before we seal the contract, of course.”

“Fine. Bring him back with you, and I will offer the same deal to him as well.”

“As you wish,” he bowed and disappeared into a cloud of blue-black smoke.

I began to pace the width of the road I was standing on. All of a sudden, I began to think this wasn’t the best idea. Talk about belated guilt. Why on earth would I summon a demon? There is a whole genre of books, movies, and TV shows based on why that is such a bad idea. “Why? Why did I do this? Magnolia Jane, your parents are going to be so disappointed. When they find out what you did, you’re going to be in more trouble than you’ve been in your entire life,” I began to lecture myself.

“So, what seems to be the issue here,” a gruff voice interrupted my self-deprecation.

I turned around startled. Next to the greasy underling Morgan, stood a tall, dark haired boy. He didn’t look much older than me, but when I looked into his eyes, dark and mysterious and lit by a curious fire within, he looked tired, like he had seen several lifetimes pass him by while he remained a beautiful, ageless shell. Dark stubble covered his chiseled jaw, and a well-cut mop of black iridescent hair flopped over his forehead. He had a mischievous, half-smile plastered on his face, and I tried to ignore the way it made me feel. “You may want to answer my question or shut your mouth before your slack jaw lets in a June bug,” he said with a hint of amusement and a small smile.

Clearing my throat, I finally spoke up. “Morgan here said he needed to clear the deal with you before we could finalize things.”

“Is that so? Morgan, please fill me in on the details.”

Morgan cleared his throat as if he were going to announce the guests at a regal ball. “This young woman summoned me here to request, of all things, a friend,” he said without trying to hide the obvious objection and mockery that came from the perpetual sneer on his face.

“And you needed me because,” the stranger asked Morgan, obviously annoyed to be pulled from his duties for this.

“Because I need a friend but don’t need a time limit,” I spoke up, before Morgan could mock me again, making sure to inject every ounce of bravery I could muster into my matter-of-fact tone.

“And why should we give you a time exception? What makes you so…special, for lack of a better word.” He wasn’t cruel with the question per se, but he wasn’t nice about it either.

“Look, Mister….” I stopped, waiting for him to introduce himself so I could be annoyed with an actual person later.

He chuckled and looked me straight in the eyes, “Liam. You may call me Liam.”

“Okay, Liam. Here’s the deal. I need a friend. I don’t have time though, so a maximum twenty-year limit will be wasted on me. I proposed to Morgan here that we make the deal and y’all are guaranteed my soul when I die, no need for Cerberus to hunt me down.”

“And you’re okay with all this? You say you don’t have time. Do you realize that as soon as you die, you’ll forfeit your right to an afterlife somewhere better? You’ll be trapped in Tartarus for eternity.”

“Well…I’m already in hell,” I managed to squeeze out without my voice cracking. I blinked my tears away, and glanced at my feet.

He looked at me curiously, but didn’t push the subject. “Okay, I’ll accept your contract. Do you have anyone in mind to be your friend?”

“Do you think if I had someone in my life I wanted to be my friend I would be standing here making a deal with you,” I shot at him with venom.

“Fine. Here are the terms of the contract. One, I will be your “friend” all the way up until the moment you pass on.” He mimicked air quotes with his fingers when he got to the word friend. “Two, when you die, myself, or one of my employees will collect your soul and transport it to Tartarus. Three, Cerberus will not be involved, and you will effectively forfeit any chance you had at a better afterlife. And lastly, at any time I have the power and authority to change the terms of you contract should the need arise.” All of a sudden, out of thin air, a contract appeared in his hand. “If you agree to these terms, I will need you to prick your finger and sign on the dotted line.”

“Change the contract?! You can’t do that!” I replied indignantly.

“I believe you’ll find I actually can.” He smiled.

“Why on Earth would you need to change the contract? Don’t you even think about double crossing me.” I spat the words vehemently, shaking my finger in his face.

“I have no intention of double crossing you, sweetheart,” he drawled. “It is only for emergency precautions.”

“I don’t believe you.” I growled, crossing my arms and tapping my foot.

“I swear, on my mother’s soul and my own position, that I will not tamper with the contract if it’s not in your best interest.”

I breathed out the breath I was holding in frustration. “Fine. Do you have a pin,” I forced out, attempting to hide all other emotion from my voice.

“Morgan. Knife.”

He drew a gold blade with a jewel-encrusted hilt from his coat sleeve. I took it from him and sliced the pad of my index finger. As the blood began to pool up, I almost talked myself out of the deal. This was crazy…wasn’t it? Did I really need to sell my soul to make a friend? Was I really this stupid? I glanced into the distance toward the faint outline of my house, then, as if under a spell, signed the contract.

“Well, that’s that then. I will see you tomorrow…” He stopped his sentence in order to read my signature. “Magnolia Jane Devereaux. Wow…that name is a mouthful.”

I rolled my eyes at him and choked out through gritted teeth, “I’ll see you around.” I turned and began to walk back to my house.

“Magnolia, sweetheart! You forgot something.” He called toward my back in a sing-song voice.

I turned around and stared Liam down.

“You have to kiss me.” He grinned a full-on, up-to-no-good smile that showed his perfect white teeth and made his eyes crinkle and come alight with mischief.

“What,” I hollered, skeptical and outraged as I marched back to the edge of the devil’s trap. Reaching the edge, my breath puffing from my heightened emotions, I glared into his deep golden irises.

“Well, along with a blood signature we also require a kiss to seal the contract. Isn’t that right, Morgan?” He glanced at his henchman, the smug grin never leaving his deadly beautiful face.

“Yes, sir,” the greasy rat said with a sly smile.

“I cannot believe you! Shouldn’t that be in the contract?!”

“It actually is. Article 3, section 5, line 4.”

He showed me the contract again, but, before I could discern the line he was referring to from the rest of the legal jargon, it snapped shut and disappeared. “FINE.” I hissed.

I’d planted a quick, chaste kiss on his lips from where I stood just outside the dust markings on the ground which held him in place; but before I could get away from him, he had wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. Part of me wanted to disappear into that kiss; to crawl inside the moment and revel in the feeling it sent through me. To memorize how he felt beneath my touch, hard and muscled and strong. Wanting him to touch me everywhere all at once. But after a few seconds the other half of my brain shut all those feelings up, forcing me out of my contented grogginess. I pushed him away while landing a solid slap across his face; then turned around and stomped my way back toward my house ignoring how my swollen lips felt after the most passionate kiss of my life.

#persephone #retelling #writing #amwriting #angst #some fluff #love #romance #demons #deals #underworld #will they wont they #hades and persephone #myths

[shiyaki]

Symphony 1

Pairing: Vishous / Butch aka Dhestroyer

Fandoms: Black Dagger Brotherhood

Summary: “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but I guess weirder things have happened, true? You’re in a time loop?”

Warnings: Temporary character death, swearing, violence

“Hey Cop, feeling better?”

„V, already finished your rounds?”   Butch raised his hand in greeting, but didn’t bother looking away from the TV in front of him or providing an update on his current state of health. “Hey, do ya know anyone who’s good at playing the piano? Or making ice sculptures?”

From the corner of his eye he noticed Vishous stop in mid-motion, the gloveless hand no longer seeking a self-rolled cigarette and the right foot still raised from nudging the door closed. Even without seeing it, he could vividly imagine the current ‘what the fuck’-expression on his best friend’s face. Butch’s lips curled into a wistful grin. Incredulity was a good look on the other male; every expression was a good look on him except for that one. The one burned into Butch’s soul and which he never ever wanted to experience again.

“Why? Did the transition knock loose more than a sudden appreciation for chocolate? What’s up with the sudden art enthusiasm?” V ribbed after a short moment of silence and lowered his hand, the cigarette apparently forgotten for the moment. He approached the couch, where he spent a full minute watching Bill Murray tinkling the ivories on the widescreen. “You’re watching Grounddog Day…”

“Yup.” Ignoring Vishous’ judgingly raised eyebrow, Butch stuffed a bite of the huge, extra-cheese pizza, with cheesy crust into his mouth. He didn’t even feel guilty about the amount of fat he was currently consuming. Besides a vampire’s ridiculously quick metabolism, which would be the envy of every and all eating contest participants worldwide, the calories wouldn’t be a problem for more than a few days.

V’s piercing gaze wandered from the side of Butch’s head to the half-emptied bottle of Lagavulin and the stack of DVDs on the coffee table, then he picked up the latter. His diamond colored eyes quickly skimmed the synopses on the back covers and with each one the furrows on V’s forehead became more pronounced. Finally he dropped the movies back onto the table and eyed Butch bemusedly.

“You must be really bored. A time loop marathon, Cop?”

Butch silently stared back at Vishous, chewing away on another mouthful and using the time to ponder the situation. Did he want V to know? It wasn’t like it was going to help his plight, but… Well, who was he kidding? Of course he wanted him to know. He wanted him to know and keep knowing and he wanted a lot of other things that were out of his reach.

“It’s kinda soothing.” Butch averted his gaze from V’s half lidded eyes and hissed in annoyance when he shifted and irritated his still sensitive skin. “They’re caught in a loop, forced to experience the same day time and time again, while everyone around them forgets. It’s slowly driving them insane, because they have no idea how to escape and they’re starting to do stupid things, but…” A pair of black boots appeared in front of him seconds before two heavy hands settled on his shoulders.

“Butch?”

“… But in the end they fix whatever the fuck needs fixing and then they’re on their merry way to the future,” Butch finished and closed his eyes. His mouth had run away with him, but he honestly didn’t care, he was just so tired and sick of this.

“You don’t sound all that soothed,” Vishous assessed. It seemed more like an afterthought, though the squeeze to Butch’s shoulder felt earnest. “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but I guess weirder things have happened, true? You’re in a time loop?”

Butch wasn’t too surprised that V had jumped to that conclusion based on his ramblings or that the other vampire seemed to give the idea some real consideration. He was great like that. “Always knew you were a smart guy. Or, I guess, bright spark fits you better, with the glowy thing and stuff.” The remark earned him a punch to the shoulder, but he just grinned.

Vishous fetched a still unopened bottle of Grey Goose and a tumbler from the kitchen and threw his leather jacket over the backrest of the couch, before he dropped down next to Butch. While unscrewing the cap, V side-eyed him, his gaze filled with curiosity and concern.

“So… how long have you been at this?”

“Can’t really say. A year maybe?” Butch put the rest of his pizza slice back into the box and wiped the grease off his fingers with one of the tissues he had located nearby for other, more personal substances. “It’s hard to keep track, especially because it’s not just a day but nine. The loop begins during my transition, which sucks ass by the way, and lasts until the day of my initial initiation into the Brotherhood.”

Vishous forwent the tumbler and took a pull right on the bottle. Then another one. “Tell me everything, maybe we can find out what’s causing it.” “Oh, I know what started all of this. Your-… uh… the Scribe Virgin apparently had some-“

“Wait! My what?” V narrowed his eyes at him, but Butch firmly shook his head and cursed his slip of the tongue.

“Nope, forget what I just said. Buddy, please believe me when I say that you don’t want to know. And honestly? I don’t want to tell ya, especially not now. The last time I was there to witness you getting this information ya went all phoenix or dragon or some shit and turned several buildings into dust.”

Vishous was full out glaring at him now and looked about ready to shake or punch the truth out of Butch, but that hadn’t intimidated him (much) when he had still been a human and it certainly wouldn’t now.  Five minutes into their staring match, V huffed and his glare subsided to a ‘This ain’t over’- narrowing of his eyes. Butch barely managed to suppress his grin.

“So, as I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted me, the Scribe Virgin had some sort of vision after my initiation, but things weren’t right for it to come true, so she started this damn time loop and it won’t stop until I achieve whatever it is that leads to her picture perfect future. And because she’s an unhelpful bitch, she refuses to tell me what she saw. Only on the last day, by the way, before then she has no clue what’s going on.” Butch had never seen V’s eyes get this big and he had seen a lot of expressions on the other vampire’s face. Huh…

“Please tell me you have never called her that to her face, Cop,” Vishous muttered despairingly into his hands, after he’d buried his face in them. The shock had apparently dissipated the remaining irritation completely.

“I did actually. Once. Didn’t end well, but it’s still the truth. Anyway, I’m taking this loop off, as they say.” It was still ridiculous that he could say such a thing in any plausible context.

“But-“

“No. V…” Butch dragged a hand through his hair and uttered a bone-deep sigh. “I know this is new for you, but I promise, I’ve already told ya all of this. Repeatedly. I’ve told you and the rest of the Brotherhood and Marissa and… Hell, I talked to Rhevenge once or twice. I’ve tried so many different things and I always wake up to the feeling of every damn bone in my body breaking and the knowledge that I have yet again failed at whatever the Scribe Virgin wants me to do. I just… Please don’t get on my case for a few days of time-out.”

For a long, almost unbearable moment, silence was Butch’s only answer. He didn’t dare look at Vishous’ face to gauge his reaction, so he startled a bit, when the other vampire got up. Instead of leaving, however, V swapped the DVD in the DVD player and sat back down. He pressed the play button on the remote control, when the main menu popped up and settled his legs on the table after snatching one of the pizza slices.

“I don’t know anything about piano playing or ice sculpturing, but I can show you some blacksmithing, true?”

Some of the tension drained out of Butch’s body, enough for a small grin to appear on his lips. “And baking bread?”

“What?”  V raised a disbelieving eyebrow. Totally unnecessary in Butch’s opinion.

“Well, you… not you you obviously, but a you said that ya bake awesome bread. I’m curious if that’s the truth.”

V mouthed ‘a you’ and shook his head. “Stop talking, before I get more of a headache than I already have. But okay. I guess, we can put baking bread on the list, too.”

~*~

Vishous was utterly frustrated with the situation and being covered in flour from head to toe didn’t even factor in. Though how Butch had managed to turn the kitchen into a winter wonderland or a cocaine drug bust gone wrong (depending on the one being asked) was still beyond him.

No, the main reason was this whole time loop business.

Sure, it was hard to wrap his mind around the concept, but V did believe Butch. The expressions he had seen on his best friend’s face the previous night would have been enough to convince him, but the cop also moved like he had had a fuckton of time getting used to his new body. There were also the new skills in dematerialization, knife throwing and the Old Language. Not to mention the information Butch evidently was and shouldn’t be privy to.

V didn’t know which issue to tackle first. The apparent connection he shared with the Scribe Virgin and finding out what other stuff Butch had dug up on him? Just imagining that the cop knew about his lovely five-star stay in Bloodletter’s camp turned his stomach.

Maybe he should first focus on puzzling out how to stop this time loop shit, before Butch really went loopy. He was already on his best way to the loony bin, it seemed. Why else would they be standing in the Pit’s kitchen, channeling girl scouts? What next? Would they collaborate with Rhevenge and sell hash cookies in ZeroSums for a good cause?

Anyway, Butch had mentioned… other Vs (what the fuck?) coming up with ideas, which had ultimately ended in failure, but that didn’t mean he would just sit around on his ass and twiddle his thumbs. He would indulge Butch’s wish for a week-long time-out, though, because he really, really looked like he needed one and V was pathetically whipped, when it came to the cop. Hopefully he wouldn’t come up with anything too outrageous, like robbing a bank… Huh, that could be pretty interesting, actually. Not the ski-mask wearing, bank clerk threatening take on things, of course, more of an Ocean 11 kinda thing.

“Sorry about dumping this on ya,” Butch muttered, looking up from the dough he was kneading dutifully. He looked fucking ridiculous with the wannabe salt and pepper hair and the smudge on his cheek. “Know you have enough on your plate at the moment, buddy.” His gaze flickered to V’s twitching eyelid, which was usually covered by his, well, their Red Sox cap. Vishous hadn’t bothered wearing it in the Pit. Butch probably knew all about it, anyway, including what his nightmare was about. That was a whole new nightmare in the making to be honest…

“Don’t rack your brain about it, Cop, true?” V nodded to the dough, while his hands deftly worked on a self-rolled. “Throw a towel over that and leave it alone for an hour or so.” A smirk curled the corner of his lips. “You can use that time to play Cinderella and scrub the kitchen clean.”

And Vishous would spend it working on… something, as long as he was far away from Butch and the cop’s growing problem.

Fucking post-trans horniness.

#vutch #black dagger brotherhood #black dagger #butch #butch o'neal #dhestroyer #vishous #slash #fanfiction #vishous/butch #butch/vishous

[hotchnerfuckmeup]

Hurricane

Fuck up

Full Badlands Masterlist here

Warnings: Mature language and content.  Rated M (14+).  Mentions of alcohol, tobacco, drugs, and sexual harassment/assault/rape.  PLEASE do not read if you will be triggered by any of this.

Flood Warning: 5,700+ words

Read Drive (previous)

Hurricane

She didn’t have the energy or will to be mad anymore.  But it didn’t mean she wasn’t upset.

Sure, her and Spencer had said their apologies, and they both meant it completely, both gratefully and tearfully accepted each other’s apologies.  But there was something about their relationship that still felt broken.  Sure, she could easily blame it on the fact that he got married without telling her, but she saw how lit up he became when he talked about the small and private ceremony in the courthouse.  It was a completely informal wedding, just two boys saying traditional vows in front of a judge and a signed piece of paper.  It’s not like they’d invited their families or even any of their friends.

“We didn’t really think about it.  It was in the spur of the moment, it just sort of happened,” Spencer had said when Y/N asked about the ring.  He gleamed in the dimly lit restaurant, a glow Y/N had never seen before.  There was a completely new Spencer sitting in front of her.

“You’re happy.”  It wasn’t a question as she meant for it to be, the words came out as a statement.  It was obvious sitting there across from him.  He was happy, she had no doubt about that.

“I’ve never been happier,” Spencer had replied.  “You know you’ll be invited when we have a real ceremony.”

What did she do now, since her best friend - the love of her life - was married to another man?

There’s a place way down in Bed-Stuy Where a boy lives behind bricks He’s got an eye for girls of eighteen And he turns them out like tricks

The next day at the diner wasn’t an ordinary one, to say the least.  

Y/N was out of it, yet again, due to her brain running in overdrive.  She couldn’t concentrate one bit on anything, she had to have customers repeat their orders to her numerous times, creating tension throughout the diner.  Every customer was getting antsy at the flustered girl who can’t seem to handle her job, and it was only packing on the stress even more.

“Kid, go take a smoke,” Blake said to Y/N as she passed her with a tray of food.

“I’m fine, I don’t need a smoke,” she replied, continuing to review her orders.  She still had three tables she needed to take orders from, and she was already behind on her other two tables.

“The new hire will handle your tables, now go,” Blake said, a little more sternly this time.  She snatched Y/N’s order pad from her hand.  “Something is very obviously bothering you and you need to take a few minutes to think about it.”

Y/N stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to give back the pad, but Blake ignored her and handed it to the new hire, Daniel.  Danny smiled at Y/N with a small nod to say he didn’t mind before stalking off to her tables to take orders.

“I’ll handle Pete,” Blake said.  Y/N just rolled her eyes and stomped out the front door.

She knew she was supposed to go out the back, but like always, she was avoiding her problems, and right then in her mind, JJ was a bit of a problem, and she didn’t want to risk running into her, not yet at least.

Grabbing a cigarette from her apron, she sighed and dug for a lighter.  When she didn’t find one, she threw the wasted cig on the ground in frustration.  Jesus, was nothing going her way today?  Y/N leaned against the side wall of the dinner, pressing her forehead to the cool bricks.

“I thought I said not to smoke out front,” Pete’s voice said as he approached her.  So much for Blake handling him.  Y/N was definitely not in the mood to deal with him right then.

“I’m not out front, I’m on the side of the building,” she pointed out, not even looking up at him, “and I’m not smoking, I’m just getting some air.”  Sure, she’d come out here to light one up, but she didn’t need to tell him that.

“You’re always smoking,” Pete said sarcastically, leaning against the wall next to her.  Offensive as always, she thought to herself.  

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned around, stepping slightly away from him.  

“You’ve been gone for a week and a half and yet, you’re still completely out of it.  Something’s obviously bothering you,” Pete said, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a lighter.  Without warning, he reached into Y/N’s apron and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it between his lips and taking a hit.  She internally shuddered.

“Yeah, so?”

“Kid, I know it may not seem like it but I care about you,” he said through the smoke.  He finished his hit and held out the cigarette to Y/N, who hesitantly stared at it before taking it and breathing in the tobacco herself.  “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to, but something tells me you still need a bit more time to unwind.”

Y/N kicked at a few pebbles with her Chuck, flicking the cancer stick between her fingers with her thumb.  “Unwind?” she asked softly.

“Blake got a sitter for the night and is having a party.  You should come, get to know the new hires,” Pete said, taking the cig from her and taking another hit.  “Get loose, kid.  I won’t make you come in tomorrow.”  With that, he handed her the rest of the cig and stalked off, back into the diner.

Y/N sighed, thinking for a moment before breathing in another hit of smoke.  She wondered how long Spencer knew he liked boys.  She thought about how beautiful he looked when he talked about Luke.  She tried to guess how long he and Luke were seeing each other before he decided to tell her.  Was he even planning on telling her if she hadn’t decided to pour her heart out to him?

Then she thought about JJ and the way she looked at her how it made her feel slightly uncomfortable.  Not because JJ was a girl and she didn’t like being looked at that way, but because she didn’t ever find herself feeling the way as JJ did for her.  She wanted to be her friend, or rather friend with benefits.  She hated that term, but that was the best way she could describe it.  JJ told her that’s what she wanted, too, but Y/N could see the truth in her eyes.

She sighed again as tears stung in her eyes.  Blinking away the waterworks, she looked next door at the entrance of the Jareau lounge before tossing the small butt of the cigarette towards the front door.  A passerby gave her a curt snarl, and she mentally stuck her tongue out at him.  She internally rolled her eyes as she thought about how childish she was being.

Unwind.

She needed that badly.

I went down to a place in Bed-Stuy A little liquor on my lips I let him climb inside my body And held him captive in my kiss

Y/N’s phone rang again as she was slipping on her shoes.  JJ’s name flashed on the screen, just like it had been doing for last couple hours every time it went off.

“Jesus fucking christ,” she huffed to herself as she picked up the device and clicked to answer.  “Hello?”

“Y/N?”

“No it’s Santa Claus,” she answered JJ sarcastically.  “Need something?”

“Jesus, Y/N.  I don’t know what I did to upset you but I-”

“I’m not upset with you,” she jumped in.  “You know why I’m upset.”

“I thought Derek apologized,” JJ wondered out loud.  Y/N rolled her eyes.

“He did.”

“Then you’re upset with me.”  JJ didn’t ask it like a question, it was a statement coming from her lips.

Y/N shook her head, staying silent as she listened to her own heartbeat and JJ’s heavy breathing.  It sounded like JJ might have been crying.  She’s ignored her for nearly three days now, it’s no wonder she’s unhappy.

“Spencer got married,” Y/N uttered quietly, soft enough that she wondered if JJ had even heard her.

The line was silent for what felt like an eternity.  Y/N picked at the loose string of her rug.  Instead of the comfortable silence she normally felt with JJ, the air was awkward and tense.

Finally, JJ spoke, but it was with a heavy heart.

“When did that happen?”

Y/N sniffled.  “Last week, while we were gone.”

“Did he tell you over the phone?”

“No, I went to dinner with him yesterday,” Y/N admitted, not really caring about how it would make JJ feel at this point.  She felt bad, but what was the point in lying?  She’d already lied about why she had a freakout after the party on Thursday, and look how well that did her.

JJ was silent again, the tension heavier than before.  Y/N heard her huff.

“I’m sorry,” was all JJ could think to say, and it didn’t even sound sincere.  

More silence.

“Can we get dinner or something?” JJ asked.  “Talk for a bit?”

“Sorry, I have plans tonight,” Y/N answered, placing the cell between her cheek and shoulder so she could tie her shoe.  “Pete hired some people while we were gone and he wanted me to come to this employee party that Blake is throwing.”  She stood up and walked to her kitchen counter, where she had sat out three pre-game shots earlier.  One was gone as she’d taken it before getting ready.  She picked up the tiny glass full of Grey Goose and threw it back, straight down her throat with a satisfying burn.  She wanted - needed - badly to just forget everything tonight.

“Tomorrow then?” JJ asked hopefully.

“I picked up a few extra shifts, so I’ll be pretty busy.”  She heard JJ sigh, so she rolled her eyes and circled her finger around the rim of the last full shot glass.

“Okay, um,” JJ started, trailing off while thinking how to end this entirely awkward conversation.  “Soon then, I guess.”

“Sure,” Y/N said softly, looking down at the clean Chucks she decided to wear.  They were less than a month old, using pretty much all her tips from the diner over the last couple months.  Tonight she looked good.  She planned to fell just as good, too.

JJ hung up without a goodbye, and although it kind of stung, Y/N ignored it and pocketed her phone before picking up the vodka-filled shot glass and walking to the mirror that hung on the outside of her bedroom door.

Staring at herself, she shook out her hair, making it messy and sexy.  She wiped a bit of smudged liner from her eyes and smacked her lipgloss.

“Let’s get shitfaced,” she said to herself for motivation before taking the shot.

Blake didn’t live in the nicest neighborhood.  It wasn’t quite as sketchy as Y/N’s neighborhood, but it didn’t live up to Spencer’s.  It was in the middle of dirt poor and middle-class.

Her apartment was barely big enough for her and her two kids, but somehow, it managed to fit the fifteen people who worked at the diner in it, including the somewhat overweight cook, Slater.  Y/N wasn’t surprised to see he was smoking a joint on the couch.

“I honestly didn’t think you’d come tonight,” Blake told Y/N as she stumbled in, a little tipsy from the three pre-game shots she took.

“Me neither,” Y/N admitted with a tight-lipped smile.  

“This’ll be good for you, take off some of the stress you’ve been having lately.”

Y/N nodded, enjoying the dizziness in her head and the feeling of the thumping bass throughout her body.

Blake only managed to throw this party because most of the people in her complex were out on vacation.  Any other night, the cops would’ve shown up at her door for a noise complaint or two.

“I’ll get you a beer,” Blake said over the music before walking towards her kitchen counter.  

The new hires were all standing in the middle of the dance floor, dancing slowly and awkwardly.  The veteran staff was a bit more comfortable, grinding on each other and flailing uncontrollably.  Even Pervy Pete was having a good time, and Y/N giggled at the sight of him doing the robot.

“Here,” Blake said, handing her a Bud Light.  Y/N wasted no time downing the drink, finishing it in a few seconds.  She was way too ready to party.

After about an hour and a half of drinking and drinking more, everyone was pissed out their asses, all grinding on each other and mixing sweat.  Danny, the new hire from that morning, was behind Y/N as she twerked on his crotch.  His hands roamed her hips aimlessly as she danced sexily on him for three songs.  Chelsea, another new hire, sat on the couch with Oscar and Slater, taking a hit from the joint they were passing around.  Becky, Fiona, and Kyle had disappeared long ago into the kids’ room to do god knows what.  Evan and Liz were laying on the kitchen counter together, making out furiously.  Drake and Aspen were taking turns getting sloppy lap dances from Lexi.  It was a true ‘I Don’t Give a Shit What Happens’ kind of party.  Pete and Blake were also having a great time, dancing a bit less pervertedly than Y/N and Danny were on the dance floor.  

Occasionally, Pete would stop to tell his employees to take it easy or to pass over the blunt and Y/N was a tad surprised to see he cared at all about his staff.  He was usually pretty stern about everything they did, but here he was, asking his seventeen-year-old waitress if he could have another hit of her bleezy.  He was making sure the ones that had to work the next day kept themselves in check, but still have a good time.

Y/N guess she’d had more to drink than she thought, because soon, it was Pete himself she was grinding herself up on and feeling a bit frisky, she reached behind her to wrap her arms around the back of his head, enjoying the proximity.  He smelled like sweat and alcohol, and for some reason, it was intoxicating to her.  Quickly, she turned, letting her pelvis meet his over and over again.  

And there’s a storm you’re starting now

The liquor took over as she placed her hungry lips on his, wasting no time to reach the same level of heat as Evan and Liz.  Y/N felt like an animal as she clung to him as hard as she could.  Pete was an attractive guy, she had to admit that.  He had the brightest blue eyes you’d ever seen on a man and his black hair was always perfectly messed up in all the right places.  She’d be lying if she said she didn’t wonder what kissing him felt like before.  But after she started working for him, she realized he was a bit of a womanizer who hit on girls usually much younger than him.  Despite the fact that he was an ass, girls still swooned over him and he knew it.  Everyone knew it.

After three songs of swapping spit, Pete gently pulled Y/N’s waist and slowly backed towards Blake’s bedroom, kicking the door open and tugging her in with him.  Blake eyed them carefully as they disappeared into her room as Y/N pushed the door shut with her ass.  The alcohol in her system was clearly taking over.  This was not her.  She wasn’t this kind of girl.

But the next thing she knew, she was on the bed in only her underwear as Pete explored every inch of her, tasting all of her.  She knew he’d had less than half to drink than she did.  He was in his right mind, and she wasn’t.  He wasn’t sober, but he wasn’t drunk, he was tipsy at best and he was about to let a drunk-off-her-ass girl have sex with him.

Y/N got lost behind the sea of alcohol in her body, letting it fuel her like gasoline, and despite the soft, annoying voice in her head telling her to tell him to stop, she let him have his way with her, whispering ‘no’ in her head, willing him to stop as if it would help.

But it didn’t

And the barely-tipsy Pete did what he wanted to the barely-there Y/N.

Once they were both finished, Pete fell back onto the bed, completely spent.  Y/N stared at the ceiling in disgust, not moving from her spot.  What the hell just happened?  

Suddenly feeling too exposed, she grabbed the duvet and covered herself, tears falling freely down her cheeks as she continued to look impassively at the ceiling, trying to let her fucked-up brain process what just went down.  Was it okay?  She never directly told him to stop, out loud anyways, so how was it not okay.  

“You okay?” Pete asked softly.  She could barely hear him over the music in the living room and the pounding in her head.  The voice telling her what a complete fuck up she is was louder than all of the above, making her shudder before she stood up and put her clothes back on.  Pete continued to say her name, letting her know it was okay, but everything around her was drowned out by the shame she felt.

Without a word to Pete, she ran out the door, passed the party that was still going at full speed, and dodged Blake, who was asking her a million questions about what Pete had done to her.  Blake was hot on her tail until she got out the door of the apartment and down the steps of the complex.  Y/N kept her head forward as she made her way back to her apartment.  She didn’t bother to stop a cab or hitch a ride.  She just kept walking.

I’m a wanderess, I’m a one night stand Don’t belong to no city, don’t belong to no man I’m the violence in the pouring rain I’m a hurricane

She woke up the next morning with a headache like no other.  The sunlight fell onto her sheets through the ratty curtains.  Due to the position of the sun, she knew it was later in the day, probably almost afternoon, now.  She miss work.

Big deal.

Groaning, she sat up slowly, her head practically pulsating.  When she wiped her eyes, her fingers were covered in black.  She must’ve slept in her makeup.

She thought about the night before and tried to piece together what happened.

As she stood up from her bed to make a pot of coffee, she tried to remember last night.  The last thing she remembered clearly was grinding and dancing with Danny, teaching Chelsea how to properly roll up a blunt, and giving Aspen a lap dance after he got bored of Lexi.  The night after that seemed non-existent.

Y/N glanced in the mirror as she walked past towards the kitchen, wincing at her reflection.  Must’ve been quite a night.  She looked like hell.

She scooped ground coffee into the machine and filled it with water before pressing start.  Suddenly she remembered Evan daring her numerous times to make out with Liz, to which she complied easily.  It’s not like that’s the furthest she’d ever gone with a girl.

Fuck.

She remembered then the incredibly awkward conversation she'd had with JJ yesterday.  She still had yet to explain herself to JJ, tell her why she’s been ignoring her, but how do you tell a friend that you think is way into that, ‘hey I know you’re way into me, but I don’t feel that way towards you’?

Then she thought of Spencer, how he had been in the same predicament for years.  He’d known about her liking him - being in love with him - but he never said anything.

It obviously worked out for him, that is until she decided to admit to him what he already knew.

Suddenly her phone began to vibrate in her back pocket.  Grabbing it, she saw it only had nine percent battery left.  Then she saw ‘Henry’s Diner’ flash across the screen and she froze.

Pete.

Images of last night began to flood her mind, making pound harder than she thought possible.

She pictured his head between her legs and his arms completely around her naked body.  She remembered the way he felt inside of her, harsh and uncomfortable.  Her mind remembered vaguely that she’d told him to stop, that she didn’t want what he was giving her, but he hadn’t stopped when she asked.  She did ask him to stop, right?

But she realized that in those moments as he took advantage of a drunk nineteen-year-old, that her lips and lungs had been paralyzed, and although she mentally told him no, the word was never uttered.

Now she felt ashamed all over again.

A single, black tear fell from her eye as her coffee beeped, signaling that it was ready to serve, but she couldn’t move as she watched her phone finish ringing and a voicemail popped up.

Quickly, she swiped the voicemail and raised the phone to her ear, listening.  It was Blake’s voice that came through.

“Hey kid, just checking up on you.  You left in a hurry last night and I know you’re probably seriously hung over, so just wanted to let you know you’re off the hook today for work.  We aren’t busy or anything, you know Mondays.  But you do need to come in early tomorrow because Pete needs a word with you,” her voice said.  She paused for a brief moment before speaking again quieter this time, “if he did anything to you, you come and tell me.”

She didn’t need to think about what she needed to do next.  

Opening the note app on her phone, she typed out her resignation.  There was no way she’d be able to go back there.  She never wanted to see his face again after last night, no way no how.  Even if it meant costing her job, she didn’t want to have to see Pete’s face every other day just to be reminded of what he did to her.

What she let him do to her.

She sent the informal resignation number to Pete’s personal cell number and then turned off her phone.  If he read the letter, there was no doubt in her mind he’d call her right away.

Here she was again, just avoiding her problems some more.

She cried silently as she poured a cup of coffee.  Then a little green sticky note on the side of the coffee maker caught her attention.  

Derek’s phone number.

She thought for a minute before taking her mug to her room and rummaging through her closet for the old shitty laptop that she owned.  It was the slowest computer on the planet, but it got the job done.

After twenty minutes of powering it up, Y/N sat on her bed cross-legged and went into Google to search ‘Derek Morgan’.

“Holy hell,” she whispered to herself as she scrolled through the search results.  His family is mega-famous.  His father, William Morgan, is some hot-shot art dealer.  His mother works as an Enterprise Architect for Microsoft.  That makes the Morgan family multi-billionaires.

Looking through the pictures of the incredibly rich and attractive family, she decided to turn her phone back on, albeit hesitantly.

Just like she predicted, she had a missed call from Pete.  Without listening to the message he left her, she deleted it and blocked the number.  She also had a couple texts from JJ and Spencer, but she ignored those too.  Instead, she dialed Derek’s number.

“Derek Morgan,” his familiar voice said through the phone.

“What’s your angle?” she asked without prompt.  Derek was silent for a few seconds before he spoke again.

“Y/N,” he said knowingly.  She could practically hear his smile.

“You’re part of the richest family in the world and didn’t bother to tell me?” she asked, her own lips forming into a grin as she drank her coffee that was now getting cold.

“I knew you were only in it for the money,” he joked.

“Yep.  All I care about is turning my rags into riches.  What better way than to mooch of a couple billionaires?”

“Hey now, JJ is only a millionaire.  Her family doesn’t come close to mine,” he said, making Y/N giggle.  “What’s up?”

“I just found a note with this number on it.  Wanted to see if it was important or not.”

He laughed.  “You shouldn’t let strangers into your house?”

“Good advice.”

“What are you doing on Thursday?” he asked suddenly.

“If you’re having another fancy-schmancy party, count me out.  I really don’t think I’m cut out for that.”

“What happened to only being in it for the money?  If you wanna be a millionaire, you have to follow a few rules,” Derek said.

“I’m being serious now, Derek,” she replied with a smile.  “I’d love to hang out but as long as I don’t have to wear heels or pretend that I know the difference between a cocktail dress and an evening gown.”

“Relax, I just wanted to see if you had plans so I could take you to see a movie or something.  No heels required.”

Y/N smiled to herself as her finger found a strand of hair and began to twirl it.  “Sure.  But why Thursday?”

“Billionaires have to make their money somehow, you know?” he answered.  “I’ll be with my dad for work.  We have to fly out to Venice to look at some pieces.”

“Jesus fuck,” Y/N thought aloud.  

“But, I will be back on Thursday afternoon.  I’ll pick you up, say, seven?”

“I’ll be here,” Y/N promised just as there was a knock at the door.  “I’ve gotta go.  And I assume you have a plane to catch.”

“Alright, I’ll see you Baby Girl.”

Y/N paused.  “Baby Girl?”

“Shit, I’m sorry.  It slipped out.”  She could hear him smiling again, but she could tell he was embarrassed.

“I’ve been called worse,” she replied before hanging up with a smile.  Getting up, she cursed herself for not having a peephole on the door.  If it was Pete standing out there, she would have no idea what to do or what he would do.  So she waited to see if whoever it was would say something.

Another knock, but no words.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she stood by the door, not daring to open it.

“Y/N?”

It was JJ.

Sighed, Y/N stepped forward to look in the mirror on her door, seeing the same mess staring back at her from earlier, but this one looked like she’d been crying.  Perfect.

Hesitantly she opened the door, revealing JJ’s back turned as if she was about to walk away, but when she heard the door open, she turned back around.

Y/N needed to do whatever she could to keep a straight face.  She needed to act like nothing was wrong.

“Hey,” she said, wearing the best smile she could muster.

“Jesus.  You look like shit,” JJ said honestly.

“Thanks,” Y/N replied sarcastically.

As Y/N walked back towards the living room, silently praying to herself that she was a good actor for just a minute, JJ let herself in, shutting the door behind her and joining Y/N.  They sat on opposite ends of the couch, JJ not daring to move closer.

“Well, I noticed your phone must’ve not been working because you haven’t answered any of my texts or calls.  And you mentioned picking up shifts at the diner so I-”

“I quit the diner this morning.”

JJ looked at her, slightly surprised.  “Oh.”

Y/N nodded.  “Yeah, I just got tired of it I guess.”  She curled her legs up underneath her and leaned sideways on the back of my sofa.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” JJ said softly.

“Thanks.  I’m fine.”

Man, this conversation is twice as awkward as this mornings.  The two were silent for a while before JJ spoke up again.

“I could talk to my dad if you need a new job.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Y/N said while shaking her head.

“I know, but I remember you saying that it was the only job you could-”

“JJ, it’s fine.  Plus if your dad watched the security cameras of you selling me that shot, then you and I both would get in big trouble when he found out I’m only nineteen.”

“He’s a pretty lenient guy, I’m sure if we talked to him then we-”

“Please, don’t,” Y/N said, slowly letting her mask fall as she hung her head into her hands.  Sniffling, she let herself cry for a moment, pushing JJ away when she tried to comfort her.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?  Please talk to me.”

“There’s just so much,” Y/N choked out.  “With Spencer and Pete and I just don’t know what to do.”

“Wait, Pete?  Your boss?  Did he fire you?”

“He raped me,” Y/N sobbed.

“Are you shitting me?  Did you report him?”

“No, and it wouldn’t matter if I did because I didn’t tell him to stop,” she cried, leaning into JJ’s open arms finally.  “He technically didn’t actually rape me, but I was drunk out of my mind and I can barely remember it.”

“Have you showered?”

“Seriously?  Why are you thinking a shower at a time like this?”

“No, if you haven’t showered, then we can go to the police and get DNA tests done, Y/N.  That would prove he raped you.”

Y/N leaned up, more of her makeup streaking her already dirty face.  “You think that will work?” she asked, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“Come on.”

I went down to a place in Brooklyn Where you tripped on LSD And I found myself reminded To keep you far away from me

JJ held tightly onto Y/N’s hand as she practically dragged her through the city walking passed the diner on their way to the police station.

Y/N caught a glimpse of Blake inside as they passed by, her face wearing a smile for the customers.  Luckily, she didn’t look up to see Y/N.  And Y/N hoped no one else saw her, either.

A few minutes later, they barged into the police station.

“We need help,” JJ said to the police officer at the front desk.

“What with?” she asked politely.  Then she saw Y/N’s state and instantly looked worried.

“We need to report a rape.”

Without hesitation, the officer lead the two girls to the back room, where there was a medical staff and more officers.  She lead them through a couple hallways before reaching an office, closing the door behind them.

“Please sit,” she asked, pointing to the seats across her desk.  “Explain to me exactly what happened.”

Y/N trembled as she looked up at the beautiful ebony officer.  “I went to a party and I had a lot to drink.”

“How old are you?” the officer asked.

“Nineteen.”

The officer nodded knowingly.  Y/N knew she did all kinds of illegal things the night before.

“If she’s charged with anything, I will pay whatever needs to be paid to keep her out of jail,” JJ said, looking at Y/N with a promising nod.

“Go on,” the officer told Y/N.

So she told her everything she remembered, leaving out the detail that when she said no, she actually said it in her head.  She kept a straight face as she flat out lied to the officer.

After a lot of steps to file the report, the officer told JJ how much it would be to cover Y/N’s own charges. JJ didn’t hesitate to write the check necessary to save her friend from jail time.  Then the officer sent them to the examiner’s office to do tests on Y/N for Pete’s DNA.  They managed to find alcohol still in her system, along with marijuana, LSD, and coke.  

“Holy shit, you must know how to party,” JJ said as they went over the test results.  It put more charges against her, and JJ paid, even more, money to save her.

They left the police station two hours later, being told to be careful and to stay safe.  Y/N was off the hook, she couldn’t believe it.

“Thank you so much,” she said, pulling JJ in for a long hug.

“You’re welcome.”

And there’s a storm you’re starting now

The next day, Blake called Y/N from her own phone.  Y/N tentatively answered it.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“I can’t believe that scumbag,” Blake went off.  “I cannot believe he did that to you, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Thank you.”

“I’m so sorry this happened to you, kid.”

“Thanks,” she replied softly, wiping away new tears that fell freely down her cheeks.

“The diner is closed indefinitely until they find someone to buy it,” Blake said.

Shit.  That meant Blake didn’t have a job.  Because of Y/N.  And she has two kids to take care of and send to school and feed dinner every night.

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N said, realized the effect of her actions.

“Hey, do not apologize to me for what happened to you.  I’ll figure out a way to make ends meet.”

After the phone call, Y/N cried herself to sleep again.

Thursday finally arrived, and the weight of the situation was still so much, that Y/N became confused and a bit stunned when Derek showed up at her door.

“Hey,” she said when she opened the door.  She was still in her pajama bottoms and a tank top, and her hair was tied back in a messy bun.  

“Did you already forget our date?” Derek asked, flashing his beautiful smile and holding up a single orchid.

“Shit, that was tonight,” Y/N said, rubbing her face.  “Damn, I’ve had so much happen in the last couple days, I can’t keep up.”

“It’s fine.  I can leave if you want me to,” he said politely.

“No, you can come in if you’d like.  We could do something here if you’re still up for it.”

“You know I am,” he said with a smirk, handing her the flower.  She took it with a smile before inviting him in.

He says, oh baby, begging you to save me Well lately, I like them crazy Oh maybe, you could devastate me Little lady, come and fade me

Tags: @ultrarebelheart @gabriels-trix @stunudo @ssajenniferjareau @penelope-garxia @fiftyshadesof-fckedup @marvelfoodlover @hamiltrin @cleohalestilinski @cherry-loves-fanfic @arizonalovesher @elliehasanaccount @burning-potatoes @reiding-and-writing @the-slytherin-ice-queen @brooke0297 @dontshootmespence @marvelfoodlover @bianceiv @chocok22 @babyelliereid @twisnies @rda1989 @marizm98 @xfanqirlinq @shxneburns @hannahswaggirl @trollitis @tillielynn16 @rosyreid @haleyynguyen @visions-of-brighter-love

#badlands by halsey by ashley #badlands by ashley hurricane #spencer reid au #criminal minds au #spencer reid x luke alvez #jennifer jareau x reader #derek morgan x reader

[chaebunny-moved]

solace.

word count: 1260 pairing: hyungwon x reader notes: fluff, college au warnings: mentions of alcohol+smut, language (only like one line tbh)

This isn’t really the best remedy for your massive headache and unrelenting flu. It’s been more than a week, and you thought it would be long gone by now; which is exactly why you promised your best friend Minhyuk that you’d be his plus one to the party today.

Not exactly a great decision.

The room is dark and smoky, mixed with the putrid scent of alcohol and sweat. You clutch Minhyuk’s arms tighter as the two of you weave through the scattered groups of intoxicated partygoers. He leads you to the backyard, and you sigh in relief to be able to breathe something beside bad decisions.

“Hey guys!” Minhyuk greets the group of guys standing around the beer keg, and slides the door closed behind you.

They’re Minhyuk’s fraternity brothers, and this is actually the first time you’ve met any of them. You’ve only ever heard about the infamous boys; mostly from your girl friends. It’s always something along the lines of ‘they’re all so hot’ and ‘you’re so lucky you’re friends with one of them’. And occasionally, there’s always the ‘I would let all of them fuck me at the same time’. You weren’t really too fond of those comments, mostly because you didn’t want your best friend to be involved with any of that.

You peek out from behind Minhyuk, examining the four guys who are all holding red cups. They take turns giving handshakes, before their eyes fall onto you.

“Hello, you must be Y/N,” the blond one approaches, flashing a charming smile. The second thing you notice are his huge biceps that appear even bigger thanks to his sleeveless blue tee. You swallow hard. He definitely had the looks and body.

“Um yes, I’m Y/N.” You gather the courage to step forward and greet the boys, face slightly flushed. Your friends were right; these guys are definitely something else.

“I’m Hoseok,” the blond one says, giving you a seductive wink. His cheeks are slightly red, and he smells faintly of alcohol. It’s clear that he’s pretty tipsy right now.

The others greet you one by one.

“I’m Hyunwoo,” the tall one bows.

“I’m Changkyun,” the other one adds, before chugging everything in his cup. He licks the froth off his upper lip, and turns to the guy spacing out next to him. He sighs. “And… this is Hyungwon.”

You eyes widen at his features. Unconsciously, you scan him from head to toe. His long legs looks really good in his ripped skinny jeans, and his slim body is only covered by a loose white long sleeve. You look up at him, and you almost forget to breathe. His droopy eyes lift up after he catches you staring at him.

You retreat behind Minhyuk, and bury your face in his back. You’ve met your fill of guys in your life, and good looking ones too. You can’t quite pinpoint it, but there’s something about him.

Your face starts burning, and your head spins a little; you can’t tell if it’s your cold acting up again, or what.

The other guys seem to notice your infatuation, giving Hyungwon a ‘look’, but he has no idea.

Minhyuk steps aside, nudging you into the circle. “By the way, where’s the other two?” he asks the others.

“Jooheon’s passed out upstairs, and Kihyun is with the girl from yesterday,” Hoseok responds, refilling his cup at the keg.

“Ouu~ My little Kihyun is growing up,” Minhyuk sings, obviously amused.

Changkyun rolls his eyes. “You’re only like 20 days older than him…”

You chuckle at their banter; they all seem like really nice people. But you can’t help but notice Hyungwon, who stayed quiet the whole time. Is he feeling unwell too?

“Don’t worry about him,” Minhyuk assures, reading your mind. “He’s usually always tired, but even more so when he’s drunk.”

“I’m not drunk…” Hyungwon mumbles and then turns towards you. “And nice to meet you, I’m Hyungwon…” He takes you by surprise, and you can’t help but think his sleepy expression is adorable.

“Nice to meet you too,” you blush.

“Alright!” Hoseok exclaims. “And with that, let’s have a toast.” He strides over to the table, decked with every type of alcohol there is. The rest of you join him, as he starts lining up six shot cups.

Oh no, I definitely can’t drink right now. Your eyes shift uneasily, patting your warm face with the back of your hand. You still feel a bit feverish, and alcohol is just going to make it worse.

“To celebrate our new friend!” Hoseok pours their drinks without hesitation. Hennessy for Hyunwoo, Ciroc for Minhyuk, Smirnoff for Changkyun, and Grey Goose for himself and Hyungwon. “And for you, pretty lady?”

Normally, you’d be more than happy with a shot of vodka as well, but your recurring headaches said otherwise. This whole time you’ve been smiling through the occasionally dizziness, making sure to make a good impression.

Ruining the mood is the last thing you want to do.

“I’ll… have a Grey Goose as well,” you smile meekly. It’s just a shot right? It can’t be that bad. 

He grabs the bottle again, pouring it into the shot cup in front of you. “I’m glad we have the same taste,” he smirks.

Minhyuk swings an arm around you. “And she may not look it, but she can really hold her alcohol.”

“Oh? We’ll see about that,” Changkyun perks up. You grin uneasily, praying that this is the first and only shot you have to take.

You notice that Hyungwon’s been eyeing you this whole time. You look over in hopes that he’ll stop staring, but he doesn’t take his gaze off. Defeated and flustered, you try to focus on everyone else.

“Alright,” Hoseok announces, lifting his cup, “Let’s drink to Y/N!” The others put up their drinks as well, except you and Hyungwon. You take your cup wearily, and toast with them.

Before you can bring it up to your lips, Hyungwon shuffles over to your side, and takes the drink out of your hands.

“I’m borrowing her for tonight,” he gestures to Minhyuk, before drinking the shot in one go. Minhyuk and the rest are just as confused as you are, as they just stand there, stunned.

Hyungwon grabs you by your hand, takes you through the screen doors, and up the stairs on the right. You couldn’t even comprehend what was going on until you were sitting on his bed.

“U-um…” you finally manage to make out. “I don’t think w-”

“Relax. I’m not interested,” he yawns, laying down on the bed. You don’t know if you’re suppose to be feeling relieved or offended, but you’re just glad that you aren’t down there anymore.

“What was that for?” You peek at him while his eyes are shut, and quietly admire his long lashes and soft skin. Even when he’s sleeping, he’s cute…

“Aren’t you sick?” he mumbles. “Alcohol makes it worse.”

What? He noticed? You feel a bit happy that he was paying attention to you. Even Minhyuk thought you already got better. So he was just helping you out…

Your heart grows warmer and warmer as you admire his sleeping figure. You lay down next to him, pulling the covers over you.

The soft pillow instantly relieves the lightheadedness you were feeling, and your whole body seems to loosen.

“Thank you, Hyungwon,” you whisper softly

“Mhm…” he mumbles, half asleep.

You start drifting off as well, and the last thing you remember seeing is his sleeping face. At that moment, you thought to yourself, how much you wished he would be the last person you see every night.

From now… until forever.

a/n: i wrote this on the go ah sorry if there are any mistakes! i tried my best to  proofread but i get headaches on the bus ;~; thanks for reading!

#monsta x #monsta x scenarios #monsta x fanfic #monsta x fluff #monsta x au #monsta x fanfiction #monsta x oneshot #hyungwon #hyungwon fanfic #hyungwon fanfiction #hyungwon fluff #hyungwon au #hyungwon scenarios #chae hyungwon #kpop scenarios #kpop oneshots #kpop fanfiction #minhyuk #changkyun #wonho #kpop au