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gayaristocrat · 3 years

Text

I Got Everything I wanted...

Episode 1: Filmed Before a Live Studio Audience...

Pairing: Vision x Male Reader

Taglist: N/A

‼️Authors Note‼️: I'm finally at a point where I can write this story. I know that It is long overdue, so I hope this can make up for it. This story is going to be breaking the 4th wall a lot since they tend to do that in the actual show. Also, please let me know in my Inbox/Askbox if you would like to be tagged every time I upload a story to this series. While reading this, you may realize that it seems rushed, and that's because it was. I wanted to put this out as soon as I possibly could. Also since you guys voted that I just divide it up into parts for you to read. I will be uploading part 2 whenever I am able to.

Summary: (Male Name) and Vision struggle to conceal their powers during dinner with Vision's boss and his wife

Time Period: 1956 (So everything in this chapter is going to be colorless and in black and white)

Word count: 4k+

Word Key:

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Have you ever dreamed of living the life you always wanted? Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where you would do anything to get it. Have you ever dreamed of something so bad to the point where all of your care for others went out the window? Have you ever dreamed of wanting something so bad to the point where you would stop anyone who gets in your way.

"(Male Name), I love you so much. Please don't do this, cant you see that everyone is hurting, that everyone is in so much pain?"

"I'm sorry Vision, but I can't. I can't loose you...not again. I never meant for things to be this way, but now I can't go back. Not without you"

---REWIND MANY EPISODES BACK---

For a second, everything is black. The TV clicks on and a burst of grey static illuminates the screen. Everything is black and white, not a single drop of color is in the area. A happily little tune starts playing as a colorless 1956 Buick Special drives up a tiny hill and back down past a sign which says 'Speed Limit 35'. The camera angle changes to the back of the car, showing a banner above the license plate, 'Just Married'. Next, the camera cuts to us, (Male Name) and Vision, newlywed husbands.

It finally happened, we finally got married! Both of us turn take a quick look and smile at each other with nothing but love and glee, it seemed like nothing could go wrong in this moment.

🎵Oh~

A newlywed couple just moved into town,

A regular husband and husband,🎵

Vision turns his head back to the road and continues driving until we turn down a happy little neighborhood. Each house on the street has a pattern of different color greys with black roofs, their yards decorated with equally bland colorless flowers and grass. Children playing outside, and adults chatting with one another while they tend to their gardens, or while walking their dogs. Everyone is just so cheery and happy, even the mailman waves at us as we pass him. Everything is exactly the way it's supposed to be, perfect.

🎵Who left the big city,

To find a quiet life,

(Male Name)Vision!🎵

Vision drives into the driveway of our new home. We quickly hop out of the car and approach the house, but before we walk in I take notice of the 'For Sale' sign still in the yard. I quickly flick my hand and use my magic to change the sign to 'Sold'. After that I dust my hands off with a proud smile on my face as Vision scoops me in his arms bridal style, opens the front door, and carries me inside. I flick my wrist again and the front door closes and locks as we both move to the Livingroom of our already decorated 2 story home.

🎵He's a magical boy,

In a small town locale

And a hubby who's part machine,

How will this duo fit in and pull through?🎵

Once Vision puts me back on my feet, we start swaying with the jingle playing in the background while title cards pop up of written words that I don't care to read right now since I'm too busy enjoying this happy moment with my new husband. Vision then gives me a little twirl before wrapping his arms around my waist as we both dip into a loving heartfelt kiss.

🎵Oh, by sharing a love,

Like you've never seen

(Male Name)Vision!🎵

---SCENE CHANGE---

The scene suddenly changes as the lights flick on and cameras start rolling. You start the scene off by walking into the kitchen and start making your way to one of the grey drawers next to the oven and you grab one of your favorite aprons. Humming a little tune, you wrap the white cloth around your waist and start observing the kitchen to see what needs to be picked up or cleaned. Deciding to work on putting up the dishes, you raise your hand and the newly cleaned plates start levitating off of the counters and float off to the display racks, you then raise your other hand and a dark colored dish cloth floats out of the cabinet and it begins drying a glass cup. You then turn your back to the cup to observe if it had been cleaned good enough, suddenly you jump as a loud crash echoes through out the kitchen. Turn to see what the problem is, you only to find Vision looking up from today's news paper and glances at the shattered plate at the ground while a laughing crown erupts out of nowhere.

"My husband and his flying saucers" He says in his thick English accent (or is it British🤔), with a joking tone.

"My husband and his indestructible head" I reply back in the same tone as another laugh erupts from the crowd.

He then folds his newspaper and walked over to your direction, giving you a kiss on the cheek when he arrived, causing you to chuckle while twirling your finger, making the plate form back to it's original round shape before it floats off to it's designated spot.

"Vision, honey, what do you say to silver dollar pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orang juice and black coffee?" You say while walking over to the refrigerator, opening it and bending down, getting ready to grab out everything needed to make the meal for him.

"I'd say 'Oh, I don't eat food' " He says smiling at me, while the crown laughs again.

You look inside the fridge and hum to yourself in surprise while putting all the pieces together in your head before saying "Well, that explains the empty refrigerator then"

"(Male Name), my darling. Is there something special about today?"

"Well, I know the apron is a bit much dear, but I'm doing my best to blend in and have the 'Perfect House Husband' look." You say walking to meet him, assuming he's talking about the apron.

"No no, you don't have to try, you already are the perfect house husband." He says as he lightly grabs your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and lightly giving you a 'boop' on the nose. "But I was referring to the calendar. Someone's drawn a heart right above today's date." You then looked at him as you cluelessly try to figure out what he's talking about, so he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you around to face the calendar behind you and he rests his chin on your head as you both look at the heart.

Trying to act like you know what day it is, you say "Well...d..dont tell me you've forgotten Vis?"

"Oh silly (y/n), I'm incapable of forgetfulness. I remember everything. That's not an exaggeration. In fact, I'm even incapable of exaggeration" He rambles boastfully.

"Hmm, well then if that's true, then maybe you can tell me what's so important about today's date"

He pauses for a second and thinks before he blows a slow puff of air out of his mouth, then deciding on saying "Uhhh...what was the question again? Oh well, no matter, perhaps you've forgotten yourself"

"Me? Heavens, no, haha. I've been so looking forward to it."

You both have actually been looking forward to day. Today you are celebrating...The first time you...uhhh...have ever celebrated this occasion before. It's a special day indeed, perhaps an evening?...of great significance?...to you both, naturally.. obviously...exactly! Well done for the both of you.

You two ramble on for a few more minutes trying to drill the other into spilling on what was so special about today, but you two couldn't since you were both obviously unknowing about it, then Vision remembered something.

"Well, sorry darling, that's me off to work, then." Vison says fixing his grey suit jacket and grabbing his suitcase walking to the front door. You quickly grab his hat hanging on the coat rack and place it on his head, fixing it to make it look straight.

"Also don't forget-"

"(Male Name), my dear how many times do I have to tell you I don't forg- oh you mean my face right?"

You nod letting him know that was what you were getting at. The audience laughs again as he quickly shakes his head and his face and hands transform from cold metal to warm flesh. Vision then puts his palm to his face and pretends to blow you a kiss, while you play along and pretend to catch it and put it over your heart.

Once he leaves out the door, you lock it a return to the kitchen, and make your way to the calendar, chewing on your polished nails (if you don't want nail polish then skip that part) as you try to remember the symbolism of the heart. Not even a second later your thoughts get interrupted as a loud knock at the door startles you back to 'reality'.

Going to go see who it is, you push the door that separates the living room and the kitchen, closer to the knocking. You quickly open the door and see a woman with a dark plaid dress and a styled black hairdo holding a grey plant in a white pot.

"Oh hello, dear. I'm Agnes, your neighbor to the right. My right, not yours" She says in a sing-song tone as she uninvitedly makes her way into the house. The eruption of cackles echo as you look at her in confusion as to why she decided to step inside, but decided to keep a calm attitude and not say anything about it.

"Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother-in-law was in town...so I wasn't!" she says laughing with the audience once more as her dress sways with her movements. She rushes the potted plant into your arms and you smile and take it as she makes her way into the living room to continue her snooping. "So what's your name? Where are you from? And most importantly how's your bridge game, hon?" She says not loosing a single breath, and of course not giving you time to answer in between questions.

"Umm...Well I'm (Male Name)" You say reaching your hand out to shake hers

"(Male Name)? Charmed!" She joyfully says and returns the gesture.

"Golly, you sure do settle fast! Yes sir you did indeed! Did you use a moving company?"

"Why I sure did. Those boxes don't move themselves." The audience laughs as your inside joke, because let's be honest, the boxes did move themselves since you used your magic to decorate everything. (Damn (Male Name), you really are a powerful sum' bitch)

'"So (Male Name), what's a single boy like you doing rattling around this big house?" She says siting on the couch.

You laugh to yourself and dreamily look at the finger your ring should be on that Vision gave you to claim you as his, (He liked it so he put a ring on it.....sorry...anyways) but paused as it wasn't there. That's not right, because you could have sworn that it was there when you created this rea-

"Oh no, I'm not single I-"

"Well I don't see a ring

"Well I can promise you, I am indeed married...To a man. A human one and tall too! A a matter of fact, he'll be home later tonight for a special occasion just the two of us." You say putting emphasis on 'occasion' with a wink.

"Oh is it somebody's birthday? A holiday?" Agnes questions bouncing up and down in the couch with her legs crossed like a 'proper lady'.

"Well, no and no"

"An anniversary then?"

"Ye-uhh...yes, Its our anniversary!" You shout, finally able to remember what that heart meant.

Agnes waves you over to come sit on the couch with her and you obey, sitting down she grabs and rests both sets of you two's clasped hands on your apron.

"Sooo...tell me, how many years" She asks letting out a little squeal.

"Well..uhhh..it...it uh feels like we've always been together"

"You lucky man-" She shakes her head remembering about her own husband "-the only way Ralph would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer names June 2nd." She chuckles as the audience laughs from nowhere again. "So what do you have planned?"

"How do you mean?" You questioned her. I mean you never really did have time to come up with anything since you just realized, or assumed, what today was.

"For your special night, (Male Name)! A young boy like yourself doesn't have to do much, but it's still fun to set the scene. Say-" she says standing up to slowly make her way to the door "-I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article called 'How To Treat Your Husband To Keep Your Husband', and let me tell you somethin'...what Ralph could really use is, 'How to Goose Your Wife So You Don't Loose Your Your Wife'. She kidd's as her and the audience laugh. You look at her and shake your head trying to hold back your own laughter. "Hang on, I'll go grab it and we can start planning. Oh, this is gonna be a gas!" She shouts running to the door so she can leave and run to her house.

-----Time Skip---

Both Agnes and you are back on the couch, looking through her magazines trying to find ideas for the anniversary dinner you planned for you and Vision to share, when out of nowhere, the phone started ringing interrupting you two. You got up and rushed over to it hoping you don't miss the unknown caller, you pick it up and put it to your ear and then start talking.

"Vision residence how may I help you"

"(Male Name), darling I-"

"Vision, my dearest husband. How are you sweetheart?" You say cutting him off from his obviously panicked and frantic voice. I mean come on, you are just excited to hear your husband's voice after a hours of him being gone.

"Listen about tonight-"

You cut him off again, already knowing that he was going to talk about the anniversary. "Don't worry, dear, I have everything under complete control"

"Oh, well, that is a relief. I must confess, I'm really rather nervous" He says over the phone.

"Nervous? Whatever for?" You question.

"Well, you know, darling, I still get a little tongue-tied."

The audience coo's and aww's at how a dust of grey creeps up on your (dark grey/grey) cheeks. "Vis, after all this time..." you giggle out.

"There's a lot riding on this (Male Name)! If tonight doesn't go just so, I think this could be the end.

'Wait what' you think to yourself

"Well, it's just one night. There's no need to get dramatic." You say in a worried tone as you grasp your now queasy stomach.

Vision's tone begins to get more serious as the conversation continues in his attempt to express how important this is to you. "Look, I think the best course of action is to impress the wife."

"Well, first, I think you mean husband. And secondly I also think the best course of action is to impress the other husband too." You look over and give Agnes a thumbs up and a wink in her direction, and she does the same while sipping her martini.

"Glad to know we're both on the same page, love. Until tonight, then, my sweet little husband" Vision says making two smooching noises through the phone to you.

"Until tonight...my robotic husband" You return, whispering the last part so Agnes doesn't hear you. She couldn't hear you anyways, being too busy sipping her drink and flipping through the pages. You finally gently put the phone on the hook and return to the couch.

---Time Skip, Later Tonight---

Before Vision made it home, you set the big dining table that was next to the living room and tossed colorless silk scarfs on all of the laps in the room to set the mood and made your way to the bedroom to get dressed to surprise him for when he gets home. When you heard the door open and heard his voice, you tip toed your way out of the bedroom and into the living room, dressed a long fluffy white lingerie robe with white fur that wrapped around the arms of it which was trailing behind you, exposing both of your (dark grey/grey) legs. You then went all the way to Vision's black silhouette and gently wrapped your hands around his eyes, causing him to jump form the sudden contact.

The audience laughed again as they know your mistake. 'Where the hell is that laughing coming from, and whey is it happening right now of all times?' you thought to yourself in confusion.

"Guess who~" you seductively whispered to your husbands.

Suddenly the lights turn on and you hear Vision's voice that was filled with a mix of shock, embarrassment, and irritation at your recklessness. "(MALE NAME) WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

You gasp and look in his direction. "Vision? What are you-" then it hit's you, if Vision is right there, then who's-

"Oh! Oh my stars, I'm so sorry!" You say to the man you mistook for your husband. You quickly uncover his eyes and stumble away from him as he stares at you in shock. Then you look down at your attire and try to cover your exposed leg as much as possible.

"What is the meaning of this!" The bald headed mad says appalled, as his wife stands behind him looking around cluelessly.

Vision interrupts with his stammering voice just as confused as everyone else. "Well..uh yeah (Male Name) what is the meaning of-" Suddenly it hits him and he tries to comes up with an excuse off the top of his head. "-Oh, the meaning of it! You want to know the meaning of it...and...the meaning of it is...that this is the tradition of (Random Foreign Country/Continent) greeting of hospitality. Uhh...guess who???" Vision says as he runs behind you and overs your eyes.

"Oh is that my host being me?" You say playing along.

"It certainly is, darling. Lovely to make your acquaintance" Vision says vigorously shaking your hand. "See i forgot to tell you my husband is from (Random Foreign Country/Continent)" he giggles along with the audience.

"Oh, how exotic!" The man's wife cheerfully laughs.

"I never knew such a place as that existed" He says in a dark yet serious tone.

"Oh hush Author, have you no culture. Oh and the robe, I absolutely love it!" His wife replies trying to lighten up the awkward mood.

"Thank you so much ma'am-" you march through the living room and snatch off the silk scarves from all the lamps and tightly grab Vision's hand. "-Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?"

You both then slam your way through the kitchen door and it swings closed behind you, leaving Vision's boss and his wife behind as they sit down on the couch and patiently (more like impatiently on Arthur's end) wait for your return. You then turn around and look at each other before throwing questions.

"Who are those people?!"

"What are you wearing!?"

"Why are they here?"

"What are you wearing!?" Vision questions again boldly

"Well, it's out anniversary, that's why I'm wearing this!"

"Our anniversary of what?" Vison says, desperate to know what the hell you were talking about. Eventually you had enough of these shenanigan's and throw the scarves down at his feet stomping your way to the kitchen chairs. "Well if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you!" you exaggerate, crossing your arms and pouting like a child

"(Male Name), darling! That...that man through there is my boss Mr. Hart! And his dear lady wife Mrs. Hart! The heart on the calendar was an abbreviation!" Vision whispers, roughly tapping his hand on the black heart drawn on the dull colored calendar.

You grab your head and shake it trying to put everything together. "Vision sweetie, you move at the speed of sound and I can make a pen float through the air. Who. Needs. To. Abbreviate!?"

Vision grabs both of your shoulders in an attempt to collect his thoughts and calm you down. "Darling, listen, it's all romantic to do the candles, the music, that stunning outfit. I don't wanna be unappreciative, but right now-"

"Your boss and his wife are expecting a home-cooked meal. Correct?" Vision nods his head while muttering 'exactly' while look around the kitchen in order to find somethin to serve to the unwarned visitation of guests. After looking around for a but, your eyes land on the mini round table that held a plate and food on it. "Well, does your boss and his wife have a hunger for a single chocolate-covered strawberry, split three ways?" Vision hisses while clenching his fists and shaking his head no.

"Oh wait, I might have better ideas" Without hesitation you raise both of your sands and snap your fingers, magically changing your outfit to the one you were wearing earlier that day, a pair of dark high waisted cuffed slacks and a white blouse to match (you can change if you don't like), and the audience claps in astonishment at your transformation whilst you tie your apron in a bow behind your back. Vision gives you a quick peck on the cheek and runs back to the living room to keep others company while you figure out what to serve everyone.

---Time Skip---

After minutes of looking, you couldn't find anything in the kitchen, and the refrigerator was empty, so you decided to call your good neighbor Agnes to see if she could pick up some things from the store and bring it over. A couple of minutes pass and you finally hear a familiar knock on the back door in the kitchen. As soon as you open it Agnes rushes through with her hands full of groceries stacked to her chin as she stumbles through the kitchen. Before you could even mutter out a 'thank you' she stops you dead in your tracks and puts all the food down on the table. "Before you can say anything don't think about it. I mean, what kind of housewife would I be if I didn't have a gourmet meal for four just lying about the place. Not that Ralph wants to eat anything other than baked beans, which explains a lot about his personal appeal, mind you." The audience laughs one more at her silly humor as you quickly render to her aid to grab some of the groceries before they could fall. Unfortunately, it seems like the Universe was not on your side since the large cooking pot crashed and hit the ground, echoing throughout the kitchen, while Agnes yelled out an overexaggerated 'oh my'.

You had to get rid of Agnes and as quickly as you can, so you decided to just push her out the back door despite her protests to help you cook. "Thank you so much Agnes but I can take it from here-"

"Are you sure dear, many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip too!"

"Oh ahahaha, you are so naughty! But-"

"Oh, shall I preheat the oven then? hmm?"

"That won't be necessary, thank you for your time!"

Somehow she managed to escape your grasp on her waist and make her way back to the counter to crab some kitchen tools to start cooking for you. "Well, I know you're in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap." She says snapping her fingers before continuing her rambling. you run back over to her and snatch the utensils from her, setting them on the counter, and grabbing her arms to march her back to the door. "Lobster Thermidor with mini-minced turnovers to start. Chicken à la King with twice-cooked new potatoes for your second course, and Steak Diane with mint jellies for your main. Oh wait! Do you set your own jellies, dear?"

"Yes Agnes I do, now can you please-"

"Ah there you go, good boy! Recipe cards are all on the counter there. Bon Appétit!"

"Haha, yes will do, thank you so much again Agnes! Bye now!" You say slamming the door, making the audience laugh at your exhausted expression. Now that she's gone, you run to the middle of the kitchen and throw your arms around, making all of the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen fly open, the dishes start floating out, and the food starts cooking. Out of no where the doors to the island bar swoop open to show Mrs. Hart, but before she could see Vision distracts her by breaking out and singing Yackety Yack by The Coasters, causing her to break out into a little dance, making her way back to the couch. Dear gods and goddess', how lucky are you to have a savior like him.

But little did you know, that the night was only just beginning.

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Finish the fic? Leave a like and comment if you enjoyed it. Also, give it a reblog too! Once again, I'm so sorry it was rushed! Please don't be afraid to let me know if there are any typos or errors. I will go back and edit this

111 notes · View notes

tacticaldiary · 3 years

Note

Hai! Can I request for Akaashi, angst to fluff where he accidentally made me insecure please?? Arigato~😊

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Thanks for the request! :) @akadrea

Misunderstanding

Pairing: Reader x Keiji Akaashi

Genre: Hurt/Comfort - Angst to Fluff

He feels incredibly guilty for making her think she wasn’t good enough. He just wanted her to not worry about him. Insecurity is a dangerous thing.

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He bites back a curse as he falls hard, onto the polished gym floors. He tries catching himself with his hand, but it gives away under his weight, throbbing painfully. He had been trying to get under a particularly poorly received ball in order to set it, but ended up tripping. As the ball bounces away from him, he hears his team frantically approach him asking if he was alright.

“Akaashi! Someone call an ambulance!” Bokuto practically screams, flopping down beside his friend and helping him sit up.

“I’m fine.” he groans, cradling his hand to his chest. While the others convince Bokuto to not call emergency services, Akaashi examines his injury, by flexing his fingers and twisting his wrist around slowly. It doesn’t seem too serious, nothing fractured or broken. The coach finally reaches them, asking the others to back away as he kneels next to Akaashi.

After inspecting the injury he deems it as a simple sprain.

“Nothing too bad.” Akaashi nods silently and stands, taking a second to steady himself. He had dealt with sprains before, so he waves off the offers to go see the nurse. He informs them of the wrist brace he has at home and he’s forced to stay on the bench for the rest of practise.

When Bokuto comes bounding up to him after practise, asking about his wrist, Akaashi assures him that he’s fine. They stop outside the gym.

“Waiting for Y/N again?”

Akaashi nods. It had become some kind of a habit for them to walk home together after school everyday. His girlfriend would meet him in front of the gym and Akaashi would then walk her home. They lived close by, so it wasn’t too much of an issue.

“Alright.” Bokuto glances at his watch, before grinning at his friend. “Don’t die, Akaashi! Who would set for me if you were gone?” he pats him on the back, laughing when Akaashi rolls his eyes and gives him a small smile. Bokuto soon departs, leaving Akaashi to wait for his girlfriend.

Y/N’s eyes light up as she spots Akaashi. Her pace increases and she waves at him. When he takes notice, he smiles at her.

“Hey, you.” Y/N says, finally reaching him and pulling him into a hug. He winces a little when she brushes against his injured wrist, and wraps his other arm around her. Y/N finds the, in her opinion, half-hearted hug a little strange but brushes it off, assuming he was just tired.

“Hello, love. How was your day?” he questions as the two start walking towards the front gates to the school. Y/N starts telling him about how she aced one of her tests today, and Akaashi’s only half-listening. The periodic, dull throbbing in his wrist is painful, but he doesn't want to let Y/N know and worry, so he sucks it up and nods every now and then, showing that he’s listening. His silence doesn’t discourage Y/N in the slightest, since Akaashi never talks excessively anyway.

Mid sentence, she reaches over to hold his hand as she usually would, and falters when he pulls back a little too quickly. Frowning a little, she shakes it off and picks up where she left. Around 10 minutes later, she tries again and looks up at Akaashi confused when he pulls away for a second time.

He looks straight ahead, not even sparing her a glance. Truth be told, he’s just trying to make sure she doesn’t see him wince in pain, so he holds a stoic expression. She deflates a little and the conversation turns dry, her voice much quieter than before. As observant as Akaashi usually is, he doesn’t take notice of the change in atmosphere between them.

Y/N can’t help but think if she did something wrong when he doesn’t kiss her goodnight at her doorstep like usual. By the time she reaches her room and puts her backpack away, her thought are running wild.

Did she do something to make him mad? Not that she could recall and Akaashi was the kind of person to confront any problems head on instead of ignoring her like that. He had let Bokuto touch him, she saw the ace pat him on the back herself, and he had smiled at him. Why did he pull away from her then?

Sighing, she sits at the edge of her bed frowning. She catches a glimpse of herself in her mirror, which was on her closet door. Her frown deepens as she gazes at herself. Her uniform was rumpled and her hair was messy, reaching up to touch it, she starts carefully looking at herself from top to bottom, scrutinising herself.

Did her hair always stand up like that? Were those spots on her face there before? Her gaze drops to her stomach. Had she gained a few pounds? A little upset, she looks at her posture and straightens it. She couldn’t even sit properly, could she? She realises with a start that, of course, Akaashi hadn’t wanted to hold hands with her.

He didn’t want to be seen in public with her. Who would? she thinks bitterly. She huffs and lays back, consumed by her harsh thoughts. She’s in a downward spiral, and it feels like she’s drowning. Was she too clingy? Oh god, she was, wasn’t she? She was always linking their arms or leaning onto him. She thinks back to Akaashi’s silence. She talked too much. He was probably hinting at her to be quiet when he wasn’t talking.

She clenches her eyes shut, keeping the burning tears at bay. She was so wrong for thinking she was ever enough. A muffled sob escapes her and she rolls over, shoving her face into her pillow. He probably wanted to break up with her, but just didn’t know how.

Her thoughts become panicked. She didn’t want him to leave her. She loved him! She could change, couldn’t she? She’d be better for him. It would make them both happy.

With those thoughts, she eventually drifts off to sleep. It was only 7pm, but she was exhausted, feeling the world pushing down on her shoulders. The fact that she may be overreacting or overthinking didn’t hit her, her insecurities winning over the space in her mind and washing away all rational thought.

She doesn’t look like herself, is her first thought when she gets ready. Her posture is straight, her clothes ironed and her hair neatly half tied up. She’s missing her slightly ruffled look. Y/N sighs, making her way downstairs. She waves off her mother’s offer for breakfast, claiming she’d eat at school.

She never missed breakfast before.

Upon approaching the bus stop at which they met up to walk the rest of the way, she finds Akaashi already waiting there. Steeling herself, she takes a deep breath, before approaching him and offering him a smile. He spots her immediately and his face softens.

“Hey, you.” Y/N greets. She keeps a careful distance between the two and beckons him with a nod of her head to start walking.

He replies, but is a little confused when she doesn’t greet him with a hug as she usually would. He’s even more confused when the silence between them stretches out for the entire walk. By the time they reach the gates, Akaashi knows something’s wrong. The silence between them was too tense and fragile.

The whole walk felt...wrong. Y/N hadn’t tried to link arms, or hands, even once and she hadn’t told him about anything new. She carried herself differently too, he had observed through stolen glances. She was a little too stiff and her posture seemed uncomfortable. She wasn’t her cheery self.

She wasn’t acting like his Y/N.

Reaching the gates, Y/N spots some of her friends, who quickly wave her over.

“Y/N, is everything alright?” he finally breaks the silence, glancing between her and her friends. The smile she offers him is a little too bright.

“Of course! I’ll see you at lunch!” she calls over her shoulder as she walks away to her friends. As she walks away without kissing him on the cheek like she usually did.

Something was very wrong.

“Akaashi! You’re not dead!” Bokuto cheers as he slips into his seat at their lunch table. He doesn’t get a response, Akaashi’s blue eyes carefully scanning the cafeteria for his girlfriend. He eventually spots her as she makes her way over to him, her gaze fixed to the floor, lunch tray in hand. When she slips into the seat next to him, she still keeps an annoying amount of space between them. Akaashi feels his stomach drop when he sees her lunch tray.

“You're eating a salad?” he asks bluntly, not one to beat around the bush. Y/N freezes, before clearing her throat, looking at him with a strained smile.

“I wasn’t that hungry today. Had a big breakfast.”

His gaze is calculating and she almost shudders, she has a feeling he doesn’t buy it. She’s right. He drops the topic, deciding to confront her about it in a place where there weren’t this many eyes, desperate for gossip around them. He keeps an eye on her all through lunch, tuning out the chatter of his other friends. When Y/N leaves to use the bathroom, he notices that her plate is still full.

Frowning, he stands, wanting to follow her, but nearly falls back into his seat when he bumps into another girl. He catches himself by bracing himself on the table with his injured hand. He exhales sharply at the flash of pain. It was a very minor sprain and was half-healed already, so Akaashi decided not to wear the wrist brace to school. When the pain subsides, he eventually turns to the girl, who lets out a string of apologies.

Y/N looks at herself in the bathroom mirror for a second, before drying her hands and walking back out. When she sees her boyfriend with another girl, her stomach drops. She sees them talking, and when she leans forward to touch his arm, Y/N stalks up to the table. Akaashi notices her but before he can get a word to her, she speaks.

“I’ll be in the library.” Her voice a little strained, she grabs her backpack and leaves quickly, not sparing a glance back to him.

She doesn’t get far until she hears his brisk footstep behind her. When he calls out for her to wait, she complies, her gaze glued to the floor. He reaches her and moves in front of her, both of them in the middle of the almost empty hallway.

“Love...tell me what’s wrong.” his voice is soft and concerned and it makes tears prickle Y/N’s eyes. She shakes her head and opens her mouth to assure him, but he cuts her head.

“Don’t tell me it’s nothing. You’ve been acting strange all day. What’s bothering you?” His voice is calm and level as he gently tilts her chin up to look at him.

When she sees the love and concern in his eyes, she nearly breaks. Couldn’t he see that she was doing this for him? Didn’t he like it?

“I’m trying to be better, Keiji.”

There’s a second of silence, in which Akaashi processes her words. “You don’t need to-”

“I do!” She cuts him off, taking a step back. “I’m not good enough. You know that!”

“Y/N. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but, trust me you-”

“No! I’m trying my best here. I’m clingy and talk too much, and when I finally fix the problem, you tell me somethings wrong?” Her eyes are shiny with tears, because dammit, why couldn’t he see how hard she was trying?

No. This couldn’t be happening. What had he done to make her feel that way. He racks his brain, but can’t come up with anything. He shakes his head calmly and reaches for her hand with his good arm, grasping it. The contact reminds Y/N of why she’s trying to be better in the first place.

“Listen to me-”

Needless to say, he’s hurt when she rips her hand from his, like she’s been burnt

“Y/N?” As emotionless as he could be sometimes, Y/N picks up on his hurt look and tone immediately. Realising with a start that she couldn’t even do this right, she turns on her heel and runs away from him, ignoring his calls for her.

He finds her quickly, around 10 minutes later, crying quietly to herself behind the gym. She’s on the ground, face buried between her knees. Akaashi sighs in relief and slowly walks to sit down next to her. She stills a little, but doesn’t move. They sit in silence, until Y/N cries die down.

“I’m sorry.” she sniffles. He responds by shuffling over to her and carefully slinging his good arm around her, pulling her to his chest. He waits for her to speak, and she does, after taking a deep breath, His presence is comforting, and she buries her face into his chest, feeling his hold on her tighten protectively.

She tells him everything. It just comes spilling out and once she starts, she finds herself unable to stop. Akaashi sits there and listens, his heart aching. He feels incredibly guilty. Once she’s finished, she feels a lot better, but still can’t bring herself to look up at him.

Y/N feels him exhale slowly, and his hand goes into her hair. Her eyes widen as she feels him tug the pin she used to keep her hair up, out of her locks. He holds it out in front of them, before looking down at Y/N’s blotchy, tear stained face.

“You don’t need this.” he tosses the pin away. “You don’t need to turn yourself into someone you’re not for anyone. Not even me.” He tilts her chin up with his finger and looks her in the eyes, seriously.

“I love you. I love you, just the way you are.”

She feels her face heat up. “But what about yesterday? You didn’t want me to touch you.” she mutters. Akaashi shakes his head and brings up his injured hand, showing it to her. It’s still a little swollen, but has healed for the most part. At Y/N’s questioning look, he explains how he sprained his wrist and why he pulled his hand away.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

Y/N feels incredibly stupid. “You were in pain? I’m so sorry, Holy shit, I didn’t know! You-you could have told me!” She gently grabs his wrist and examines it, frowning when he winces a little.

“You didn’t know. I apologise for not telling you and making you think I didn’t like you. I’ll try to be more open next time.” He pecks her gently on the forehead. When they hear the bell ring, signifying that the last class of the day was over, the two realise that they’d unintentionally ditched class. Neither of them seemed to mind.

Akaashi stands and offers Y/N his hand, which she accepts. When they’re both standing, he suddenly pulls her forward into a warm hug, resting his chin on the top of her head. The blatant display of affection is uncharacteristic for him, but it only proves to Y/N how badly she misinterpreted the situation.

“There you are- oh no...did I interrupt something?” They jump at the loud energetic voice, and Y/N giggle when Akaashi drops his head onto her shoulder.

“Bokuto-san-”

“You’re late for practise!” he crosses his arms. His face lights up with an idea. “Y/N, are you coming to watch today’s practise?” he asks excitedly. She glances between the two boys and nods.

“I’ll keep Keiji company on the bench.”

Bokuto cheers and leads the pair to the gym, talking about how many awesome spikes he’ll hit to impress Y/N. As they walk, Y/N feels Akaashi reach over grasp her hand interlacing their fingers.

She smiles to herself and pulls him closer, linking their arms together.

Requests are Open and Welcome

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pa-panda-heroes · 3 years

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No one asked but take it hERE YOU GO bc I’m suffering and I just need a 2d baby to help me with my shit spine-

Megumi, Yuuji, and Nobara helping out their s/o with back issues!

Megumi:

He doesn’t know a thing about it and what it’s like, or even heard of your issue. That said, he’s quick to look it up on the internet to figure out exactly what’s goin on, what might help, and what he can help with. Really wants to help if he can’

Need your shit put back into place? Megumi’s your guy! He’ll watch dozens of videos to learn how to do it, and while he may be nervous about cracking your back and shifting things back into place, he’s a natural at it. He’s gentle with you, refraining from manhandling and yanking you around when he doesn’t need to, and he somehow knows exactly how much pressure is needed and where.

Even though he does so well, he’ll always remark a firm “You really should see a professional about it, though.” He’s just pushy like that, even though he’s always happy to help where he can. Megumi just thinks it’s better to have someone trained and licensed to do something like this.

Probably won’t be too thrilled when you ask for a massage for the first time. Again, he’s fine with learning, but he doesn’t feel apt enough and encourages you to have a pro do it. You need to be as stubborn as Nobara to convince him.

Once you do, though, he realizes it’s kinda nice. The two of you can chitchat idly about anything that comes to mind and it’s really peaceful. It’s quiet. Void of the “excitement” that daily life has, be it fighting for your life against curses or trying to keep a tight leash on Yuuji and Nobara. And if you fall asleep? He’ll swoon.

Eventually he’ll pick up on what aggravates your back and what doesn’t, as well as what helps and what doesn’t. Megumi will also quickly notice cues in your body language or demeanor that call for his help, painkillers, or a much-needed break.

If you’ve been out and about all day exorcising curses and the pain gets unbearable, asking him to carry you on his back can yield various results. If the others are around or if you’re in public, he’ll be pretty adamant you take some pain pills and rest for a little while.

It’s not that he sees it as a burden or anything; he likes that you’d ask him. However, the thought of carrying you on his back in front of other people is quite flustering to him, but if you’re actually wounded aside from your usual issue, he’ll follow along with a bit of grumbling. When no one’s around, though, he’ll offer before you can ask.

Yuuji:

You’d think he would be clueless and utterly confused, but nay! Yuuji knows lidocaine patches are a gift to this world, hot pads are a gem, and hot baths are an absolute miracle. Well, they can be. He knows that when it’s especially bad, it’s bad and your best bet is to find the most comfortable resting position as possible and leave it at that.

Sympathetic as hell. Yuuji has seen what back pain can do to someone - he saw that with his own grandfather, even if the old man’s issue was brought on by his age. While he doesn’t experience it himself, Yuuji just knows. He doesn’t know how to pop you back into place, though. The old man was stubborn about letting him do that, so he has no experience.

Great at cracking things back into place once you teach him, even if he can be a bit clumsy actually getting into position to do it. “No, you have to stand so that I’m facing you.” “Oh, so... like this, with my hands this way?” “Yuuji, sweetheart, you can’t pop my hips back into place from my knees-“

He tries so hard to help out. Whether it’s popping up out the blue (and giving you one hell of a fright) with painkillers, keeping a literal stockpile of lidocaine patches in his pockets, or constantly asking if he can “crack” you (much to the bewilderment of everyone else because he gives no context-), Yuuji nearly smothers you.

It’s cute, though, and he’s smothering you for all the right reasons! When you happen to be in the city after a job well-done, he’ll offer to buy you ice cream, “since you worked so hard today and your back is probably killing you.” “Yuuji, are you using my shit back as an excuse to gorge on sweets?!” Yes, yes he absolutely is. And with the massive puppy eyes he gives you, there’s no way you can say no.

Loves loves loves to do the thing where he hugs you from behind, squeezes real tightly, and jerks you up. He’ll say it’s because it seems to help and the relief he sees on your face afterward is wonderful to see, but it’s really because he just likes squeezing you.

Gives you piggyback rides all the time. You can refuse and tell him your back is fine to walk all you want, but it won’t work. He’ll come up with an excuse along the lines of preventing your back from getting bad. You have to somewhat admit he has a point, and he honestly does believe in that. But he’s just happy to carry you.

Horrible masseuse. Dear Fujisan keep this boy the hell away from your muscles. Popping and cracking you entails quick, hard pressure and maneuvers, while massages entail constant pressure over periods of time and slow, graceful movements. Yuuji is neither slow nor graceful. He tries so hard for you, tho

Nobara:

This poor girl has no idea what the hell is going on with you but still somehow does everything right. And she’s totally bewildered when a wild guess in the dark actually works, like.... what?? Are you sure you’re not faking it so she doesn’t feel bad for being clueless?? Y/n?? Hello??

Scared of her own shadow when it comes to helping crack you or put your back into place. Remember Noboara’s little “muri muri muri” dance when she found out Yuuji ate a cursed object? That is exactly what you get when you bring it up to her, because she’s afraid she’ll hurt you.

You will have to show her on her own body what you need before she’ll consider doing it. Or, you can taunt her. That always works! But once she’s got it down, Nobara might even ask you if you can work on her back or refer her to the chiropractor that you go to when you’re able. She’s curious to see how an adjustment could help her even though she doesn’t have any problems.

Pain killers and heating pads galore. She has so much stockpiled in her cabinet, you wonder if she eats pills like candy. In reality, she just likes to be prepared. She keeps plenty of other things of a medical nature, too. “Hey, hey, hey, y/n! Have you tried a back brace? I’ve got this kind, and this kind...”

Actually gets super interested in your condition. Nobara will scour the internet trying to learn everything she can, be it looking at x-ray samples or treatments. She even saw a video detailing the process of drilling screws and metal bars into the spine to treat scoliosis, once. Needless to say, she gets a handle of what your condition is rather effectively.

Unless you’re a fair amount under 160cm/5ft3 in height, you’re probably not getting any piggyback rides from Nobara. You can bet she’ll try, though, especially when the others (or you) tease her about it. She’ll pull it off out of hard spite, just to prove them wrong because she can do anything she puts her mind to and she’s stubborn.

Ask her for a massage. Do it. You will not regret it! Nobara’s lithe fingers are perfect for rolling out any built-up tension. She knows just what kind of pressure, where to put it, and how to move her fingers over your muscles to help reduce pain, tension, and just overall stress.

And she has fun doing it, too! She loves helping you out, and every once in a while when she’s really focused, you can catch her humming to herself with a tiny smile and cheery glint to her eyes. Nobara is surprisingly a quiet masseuse because of her intense focus, so you’ll have to do most of the talking if you feel like it.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro x reader #itadori x reader #kugisaki x reader #megumi x reader #yuuji x reader #nobara x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #kugisaki nobara x reader #disclaimer:this was entirely self-indulgent and definitely led by my own experiences with scoliosis whoops

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sooibian · 3 years

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IRS and Prejudice

Pairing: CEO!Minseok x fem!employee Reader

Genre / Themes: Fluff!!! Frenemies to (maybe) Lovers? Office AU with some references to ‘The Office’, flirtatious, cat-whisperer, Aries Minseok vs Aries reader!

Description: In which Kim Minseok is nothing like other bosses. Nothing.

A/N: happy birthday to mochi ari! @his-mochi-cheeks 💗

Word count: 2.7k (written in a state of delirium eeeek)

You quickly hit Alt+Tab on the resume that you sat updating for the umpteenth time as the sound of heels click-clacking against the floor grew closer.

“My office,” said your immediate supervisor the moment you looked up at her, a well practised unfazed expression crossing your face. If switching between applications at lighting speed were an Olympic sport, you were certain you’d score nothing less than a gold medal. Yet, somewhere in the back of your mind, you had a niggling doubt about having been caught in the act.

You gave her a slight nod in response, lips stretched into a thin line. Smoothing out the wrinkles in your red and black plaid shirt (the one you wore on most casual Fridays since you could hardly be bothered with your appearance at work; despite the feminist within you, the dull back office team discouraged you from making the effort), you followed her into her office with your best businesslike gait while your mind made up a million excuses for what her keen eyes might have found on your 24-inch screen.

“Sit,” the middle aged woman commanded, resting her hands on her hips. Leaning against her teakwood desk, she crossed her legs at the ankles, pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, and cleared her throat. It’s how she’d fidget when she was on the edge about something.

You imagined your expression if a camera was to pan to you, cinéma vérité. Indulging your curiosity, you shrugged your shoulders with a confused look on .your face

“Everything okay?” You mustered in your best Pam Beesly impression.

Your supervisor let out a deep sigh and answered your question with a more awkward one, "When was the last time you submitted cash reports to the IRS?”

You froze into a still frame.

One of the major reasons you wanted to change jobs was because innumerable responsibilities that were entirely unrelated to your department had been carelessly plonked upon your shoulders. Submitting monthly cash reports to the IRS should have ideally been a task of the receivables department and not shifted onto someone incharge of warranties.

“I - I - ,” you started by trying to justify your negligence before even attempting to answer her question but honestly, you didn’t even want to think about when you last submitted those reports and there was absolutely nothing you could say in your defense.

You’d messed up. Big time.

“Ten months. Ten months is not a small amount in penalties,” she said in her quietest tone as you struggled to fight back angry tears. You’d been with the company for over six years now but it was the first time you’d been accused of laxity. It felt like a punch in the gut.

She turned on her heel to take her seat - movements deliberately slow, allowing you some time to regain your composure. With her eyes on her phone, she leaned back in her chair and said with a sense of finality in her voice, “You know what you have to do.”

Head hung low and eyes lined with tears, you walked out of her office muttering all the things you didn’t say in your defense. The long and short of it was that this duty should’ve never fallen into your lap in the first place. As you paced in the direction of your cubicle (with twenty sets of curious eyes on your back), a pair of hands suddenly gripped your shoulders and a dulcet voice sang, “Careful, Warranties.”

At this point, you were ready to rip your hair out. Looking up you met CEO Minseok Kim’s bright, catlike eyes as he stood at a hair’s breadth distance from you, smelling of expensive cologne - the kind that was equivalent to several months of your salary, and coffee. He always smelled like coffee and in your opinion that was his only redeeming quality.

His handsome face that every woman and man in the office fawned over was a source of your annoyance - you didn’t care for cocksure people at all and he was the uncrowned king of arrogance. He took over the reins of a used car dealership from his father upon his retirement - it was nothing too fancy - yet he enjoyed strutting around the office as if he managed a multinational conglomerate.

It was his younger sister that did the real work. She managed the more important businesses while Minseok had been handed the responsibility of just one company and from your (and the Sales Team Lead Baekhyun's) standpoint, he wasn’t doing a marvellous job at it.

Your Aries energy didn’t permit you to apologize for nearly butting heads with him so you feigned a polite smile and side-stepped to your right and he simultaneously side-stepped to his left, his every little wrong move bolstering your frustration level. It happened again and again and again until he bowed ever so slightly, stretched his arm out and said, “Please,” gesturing for you to leave first, the corners of his mouth curled up in a wide, gummy grin.

What was he so happy about all the time?

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he winked at you in response. You immediately made a mental note to find out if you could report the CEO for improper behaviour. You had a full-blown list that started with his attire - should a CEO be allowed to dress in hoodies, skinny jeans, and comfortable sneakers while the rest of you suffocated in the restraints of formal clothing for four days of the week?

Huffing, you slumped in your chair and texted your aunt informing that you wouldn’t make it to barbecue night and immediately flipped your phone to silent to avoid seeing her colourful messages berating you for the last minute cancellation.

Next, you aggressively typed ‘IRS CASH STATEMENTS’ in big block letters into the sticky notes app as a reminder of the humiliation you experienced today.

***

When you last checked time, it was noon.

The sun had long gone down since then as you tried to wrangle customers’ social security numbers out of the ever-so-reticent-to-share-information receivables department who were all packing up for the day. You were this close to socking them in the jaw but you still maintained a courteous smile and pleaded with them throwing in tonnes of cringey corporate jargon, “Please, I just have three more reports to go and I’d really appreciate your prompt help with the information.”

Suddenly, a familiar cheery voice fell upon your ears, “What’s going on?”

You were surprised to find Minseok still in the office but also extremely grateful for his presence because his single sideway glance at Angela achieved what your five emails and three verbal requests failed to.

Furiously typing away on her keyboard, she said through gritted teeth, “I’ve sent them over.”

Minseok gave you a casual two-finger salute and nearly went skipping back to his ...no, not his but to your immediate supervisor’s now empty, glass-paned office - where you could see him directly and he you - the three walls of your cubicle doing nothing to keep you out of the periphery of his blatant staring and his trademark cheeky grin that lit up his ridiculously handsome face.

Shifting uncomfortably in your seat you returned his smile but not with your eyes. You hated the effect he had on you - making you, a grown woman, blush like a schoolgirl under his self-assured gaze. Minseok was nothing like a CEO - he dressed casually, talked to anyone and everyone like he’s known them forever. He’d come into work regularly after prolonged dry spells only to disappear again. His laidback attitude did no favours to your opinion about him.

To pointedly avoid Minseok you put your head down on your desk on the pretext of catching a little break.

… big mistake.

***

You woke up with a start to the soothing and inviting aroma of... home. Opening your eyes to cinnamon bread drizzled with cream cheese on your desk felt like a fever dream until Minseok rolled his chair forward in your direction and you instinctively backpedaled. Clutching his stomach he broke into a vast roar of laughter while offering you a paper napkin with his other hand.

Brows furrowed, you stared at him quizzically as sleep continued to irritate your eyes and the mark of the ballpoint pen you fell asleep on, niggled at your cheek. Hesitantly, you took the napkin from his hand and dabbed it around your eyes and he shook his head in response, pointing to the annoying curled up corner of his own mouth.

“You were drooling,” he guffawed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Upon noticing that you immediately grew conscious about your appearance, he waved his hands frantically and added, “It’s no problem… I drool too, haha..in fact it’s ...umm..”

You glowered at him and he instantly looked away allowing you to fix your face as his fingers impatiently drummed away on your desk.

The clock struck 7:53 p.m.

Your last meal had been sometime before noon. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve been grateful for the little snack Minseok had brought you - it was an uncharacteristically thoughtful gesture from someone like him but you’d been expecting your period in a week’s time which made you unusually ravenous.

Lips pursed and head tilted to the side, he handed you a bottle of water which you gulped down within a matter of seconds while steadily growing wary of your ultimate boss’ intentions. But you pivoted your attention to prioritizing. First, you’d wolf down the delicious cinnamon bread and then think about whether you were going to walk out of this office on your own two feet or as a human-skin suit on Minseok’s well defined back.

“Thank you for the snack,” you said to him with a forced smile, “I’ll get back to my reports now.” As you swivelled your chair to face the monitor, his hand hooked at the armrest and he spun you back around towards himself.

“What’s the rush, Warranties?” Resting his chin in his hand, he wondered with a quirked brow and a smile teasing the edges of his plump mouth.

It was not your place to ask what your boss was doing in his own office at 8 p.m. on a Friday night, especially one that hardly ever came in to begin with. He could clock in and out at his own whim and sit wherever he liked even if it meant being an utter inconvenience to someone on a stringent deadline but you took your shot anyway. Doing nothing to mask the sarcasm in your tone, you said to him, “Minseok, if you came into work everyday, you wouldn’t have to stay back so late, you know.”

Unfazed, he responded, “But my schedule doesn’t allow me to come into work everyday.”

Schedule?

You decided not to stretch this conversation longer than necessary, especially not after his ridiculous response. Drawing in a deep breath, you said, “I just have five reports left to finish, Minseok. Maybe we can talk later.”

“I run an organization involved in wildlife rights and care,” he explained anyway, rummaging the pockets of his jeans.

No shit, you scoffed. If only Minseok Kim could get any more predictable. A not-for-profit organization was every rich kids guide...no facade...no scam.. to make it seem like they actually did something.

Handing you a card, he continued, “It requires me to travel extensively - last month I was in a park in South America, working with this one puma, Elsa. She was a cage cat who got so used to the confines that she wouldn’t come out of the cage for walks in the jungle because she didn’t like anyone touching her collar, so we couldn’t attach a rope to walk with her. But, I think I’m somewhat of a genius and a cat-whisperer. Within three to four weeks, we managed to get her out of the cage.”

He pulled his phone out next, brought his chair closer to yours and started swiping through the picture gallery to show you a magnificent puma walking around the park as if she were its reigning queen. He resumed the story proudly, “Now she walks every single day, without a rope around her neck. And she’s very, very loving and affectionate.” His face lit up with awe and admiration for Elsa.

Probably you'd misunderstood Minseok…just a little. His passion about his organization did something to favourably change your opinion about him but that didn't mean you didn't have your immediate supervisor and the IRS to answer to anymore.

"Why are you telling me all this?" You asked, covertly moving closer to your workstation.

"We have a vacant position in Treasury." He answered and you immediately stopped dead in your tracks.

Mouth agape, you exclaimed, "You did not just try to poach me from your own company! Minseok you don't cease to surprise me -"

With a smirk on his face, he gave you finger guns. "That’s always been the goal, Warranties!"

"I still have five-

"Three..you have only three reports left. How stupid do you think I am?”

Caught in a lie, you could do nothing to save face so you simply pivoted your chair only to be forcefully twirled back by his strong arms again.

“Now what?" You asked, letting out a groan.

With his foot on one leg of the chair base, he pushed you back towards your desktop and said with a voice laced heavily with his trademark sass, "Check your inbox first."

Grumbling under your breath, you said something along the lines of ‘what does a CEO do anyway’. You then refreshed your inbox, impatiently waiting for an email of several MBs to load as Minseok watched you with an expression of victory painted across his features.

Your mouth fell open to find perfect to the t cash reports for the last three months which made you instantly regret your snide remarks.

Minseok snapped you out of your reverie with his smooth voice, “I may not know much of what a corporate CEO is supposed to do but I do how to get work done. Angela was more than happy to do this for a ‘team leader’ nameplate on her desk.”

Struggling to hold his compelling gaze, you muttered, “I don’t know how to thank you...”

“But I do!” He quipped.

“Of course, you do,” you sighed.

“Let me join you for barbeque night at your aunt’s..i’m sure they won’t mind you bringing a friend along?”

Before you could begin looking for a bug in your cubicle, he explained, “I caught a preview of her message on your phone while you were happily tucked away in dreamland.”

“You - you - that’s an invasion of privacy!” You lambasted him.

Stifling a yawn, he leaned back in his chair and said casually, “I was bored. Besides, privacy is a myth in today’s day and age...just like democracy, the importance of drinking eight glasses of water a day, the goldfish memory, or the thing about houseflies -”

“Okay, okay! I get it! Privacy is a myth. You - you can join us, I guess,” you interrupted him.

With widened eyes he emphasized, “Unless you don’t want me to -”

No matter how much and how often Minseok irked you, he was a charmer. You knew your aunt and your cousins would love having someone like him join in the get together and it really wouldn’t hurt your reputation to bring your boss, especially one like Minseok, along at a family event. You also couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in your belly at the prospects of working in an NPO’s treasury department.

“You know that’s not what I meant -” You replied, eyes on the monitor as you double checked the email you’d drafted for your immediate supervisor.

“So you want me to come along?” He asked in his flamboyantly flirtatious tone.

Ignoring him, you hit send only after adding a little smiling emoji. Shutting down your system, you picked up your coat and answered with a genuine smile this time, “I’m driving.”

************

A/N: the story about puma Elsa is real! i’ll link it in one of the rb’s for those interested :)

#exosnet #exowritersnet #exo fanfic #minseok fanfic #xiumin fanfic #xiumin fluff #exo fluff #minseok fluff #exo oneshot #minseok oneshots #xiumin oneshots #xiumin scenario #exo scenarios #exo x reader #minseok x you #exo x read #xiumin x reader #minseok x reader #xiumin x you

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thebakingqueen5 · 3 years

Text

KW 2021: Missing Scenes

Day 3 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt Missing Scenes!

This was arguably the most obvious way to go about this prompt but I wanted to write it anyways because if there’s one missing scene that should’ve been included in the series, it’s something to bridge the gap between EIP and Sozin’s Comet.

Links: AO3 | FF.net

Summary: Another year, another summer, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 3: Missing Scenes. Bridging the gap between the Ember Island Players and Sozin’s Comet Series Finale.

Word Count: 2.8K

It was another cool night on Ember Island. The moon was beginning to rise and was lighting up the corridors and central courtyard while the Gaang got some food to replenish themselves after a long day of training and preparations.

Sozin’s Comet was a mere few days away, and tensions were higher than ever. Earlier that day, the true plans of the Firelord had been revealed: that he was planning to use the comet to wipe out the Earth Kingdom entirely, which meant that Aang had to face him on the doomsday itself at the latest. It was a challenge he felt none too prepared for.

He thought that he was going to get more time to master his earth and firebending, but with this newest revelation, it was pretty clear this was not the case, and the stress was beginning to get to the young airbender.

The practice battle against Toph posing as the Melonlord had Aang’s stomach tied in knots. Before today, the final fight seemed so distant, almost inconceivable, something that he would only have to do when he was absolutely ready for it. But now? It was coming, and it was coming fast, and Aang had no idea how to handle it.

The boy hadn’t really thought about what he would do when he finally faced Ozai. He assumed that by the time he mastered all four elements, the solution would be obvious, but it wasn’t. Everyone else seemed convinced that killing him was the only option, but that went against everything Aang had been taught by the monks. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like him. How was he supposed to do something so drastic when he didn’t even believe in it? There had to be another way, something he was missing, there just had to be!

“I have a surprise for everyone!” Katara called as she walked into the clearing, immediately snapping Aang out of his intense thoughts. He briefly glanced up from the plate of food in front of him as everyone’s eyes turned to the crimson-clad waterbender, a rolled up tan scroll in her hands.

“I knew it!” Toph exclaimed. She grinned devilishly as she looked up from her wooden bowl of rice. “You did have a secret thing with Haru!”

Sokka, Suki, Zuko, and Katara all blinked at her in confusion and gave the blind earthbender a bewildered look, unsure of where her supposed epiphany came from.

“Uh…” the waterbender responded slowly as the others returned to their meals. “No. I was looking for cooking pots in the attic and I found this.”

She unfurled the parchment in her hands, making a slight swish noise.

“Look at baby Zuko,” she cooed. “Isn’t he cute?”

The paper in her hands was in fact a painting showing a happy, bright-eyed cherub of a baby laughing as he played on the beach. He looked to be quite young, having only a tiny topknot on his head and a mere two teeth in his small mouth while a tiny shovel and sandcastle lay on the ground next to him.

Everyone except for Zuko laughed and “aww”d at the adorable picture while the firebender stared at the others gravely.

“Oh, lighten up,” Katara admonished when she noticed his lack of response. “I’m just teasing.”

“That’s not me,” the firebender said, opening his eyes to look at her. “It’s my father.”

The Gaang looked on in shock as Katara rolled the scroll back up. They were all wondering the same thing- how could such a precious baby have become the most cruel man on the planet?

“But he looks so sweet and innocent,” Suki frowned, her voice faltering.

“Well, that sweet little kid grew up to be a monster,” Zuko spat. “And the worst father in the history of fathers.”

“But he’s still a human being.”

Everyone turned to look at the source of the voice. Aang’s back was hunched over his tray of rice and beans a few feet away from them, and a deep frown rested on his normally cheery features.

“You’re going to defend him?” Zuko questioned.

“No,” Aang clarified. “I agree with you.”

“Firelord Ozai is a horrible person, and the world would probably be better off without him,” he said as he stood up and turned around to face them, “but there’s gotta be another way.”

“Like what?” Zuko deadpanned.

“I don’t know,” Aang shrugged. He turned his gaze down and away from the others, eyebrows tilted upwards in concentration, when an idea came to him.

“Maybe we can make some big pots of glue, and then I can use gluebending to stick his arms and legs together so he can’t bend anymore!” he said excitedly.

Zuko smiled sarcastically. “Yeah, then you can show him his baby pictures, and all those happy memories will make him good again.”

“Do you really think that would work?” Aang asked eagerly, oblivious to Sokka and Suki snickering behind the firebender.

“No!”

Aang sighed heavily and hung his head in defeat. He needed to find another solution, think out of the box somehow. He stared at the ground for a few moments in exasperation before hopping down the stone steps to pace under a hanging orange lamp in the courtyard.

“This goes against everything I learned from the monks,” he said, walking back and forth. “I can’t just go around wiping out people I don’t like!”

“Sure you can!” Sokka interjected from the sidelines. “You’re the Avatar! If it’s in the name of keeping balance I’m pretty sure the universe will forgive you.”

Aang’s arms and slumped upper body shook violently with rage.

“This isn’t a joke, Sokka!” he shouted. “None of you understand the position I’m in!”

How could they, after all? They hadn’t been at the Air Temples a century ago. They hadn’t been raised by the Nomads to be peaceful and treat every life as sacred. He was the last of his people, and somehow none of them could see that. To them it was the simplest decision in the world- just get it over with and save the world, but it wasn’t to Aang. It wasn’t as cut and dry as that.

“Aang, we do understand,” the waterbender frowned. “It’s just-”

“Just what, Katara? What?”

“We’re trying to help!” she said angrily, her temper also rising.

“Then, when you figure out a way for me to beat the Fire Lord without taking his life, I'd love to hear it!”

Aang raised his arms in frustration with the last few words and stormed off in the direction of his room, feet stomping loudly against the stone floor.

“Aang, don’t walk away from this,” Katara began as she made a movement to follow him.

Zuko put a hand on her shoulder, and the waterbender faltered, turning towards him.

“Let him go,” he said quietly. “He needs time to sort it out by himself.”

The waterbender huffed in indignation and began walking towards her own room.

“I’m going to turn in early tonight,” she muttered, arms wrapped around her torso. “Good night, guys.”

“Good night,” the rest of them mumbled back, all but Zuko turning their attention back to dinner. The firebender scrutinized her receding figure as Katara turned the corner and went down the left hall to her room. He knew she was likely going to talk with him anyways that night, but the least he could do was make sure she gave the airbender enough space to cool down.

After a few minutes of glaring at the corridor, Zuko turned back to the ragtag team of misfits and their lively voices. Though he had been traveling with Team Avatar for some time now, the way they managed to turn the subject of conversation to the Earth King’s bear Bosco in such a short amount of time would forever be a mystery to him, but nevertheless he listened attentively and heard from them all the latest exploits of what went on beyond Fire Nation borders.

Meanwhile, true to her word, Katara went back to her room and attempted to sleep, but it was an effort in vain. The last few days had been weighing heavily on her- she and Aang had never experienced such a tumultuous period in their friendship before, and between the kiss during the play and the past ten minutes, it was safe to say there was some tension.

She closed her eyes and groaned, tossing and turning to try and find a comfortable position to no avail. She just couldn’t take her mind off it. Katara stared at the ceiling and let out a short huff before sitting back up with a new fire in her eyes. She wasn’t going to sit around, no, she was going to face her problems head on like a rock!

“Toph would be so proud,” Katara chuckled as she wrapped her kimono on over her bindings.

With as much stealth as she could muster, Katara carefully opened the door from her room and crept down the hallway until she was facing the entrance to Aang’s.

She stared at the block of wood intently. It almost seemed like a cruel metaphor- the barrier between her and Aang not only physically, but emotionally as well.

Nevertheless, Katara was here to get things done.

The waterbender didn’t want to knock and alert everyone else of what she was doing, but she also didn’t want to show up unannounced and startle Aang. After a few minutes of careful consideration, Katara concluded that the latter was the lesser of the two evils, and she slowly pushed the handle and entered his room.

In the very back, she saw Aang’s silhouette in the partially open paper divider splitting the balcony from the main room. Katara walked closer to him, and she sat down silently at the opening of the divider when she saw him in deep concentration. He had been meditating with four small candles, some water, and some rice buns on a wooden board in front of him. The dim light of the candles highlighted Aang’s tense features, contorted in frustration.

“I know you’re there, Katara,” the airbender said after a few moments, apparently not as concentrated as she thought. “I could hear your footsteps from a mile away.”

The girl blushed furiously in embarrassment and promptly decided the floor was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Katara apologized. “I just wanted to talk but I get if you’re busy-”

Aang sighed and bowed his head in reverence to the spirits before opening his eyes and turning to look at her with a kind expression.

“It’s alright. Meditating wasn’t really getting me anywhere anyways,” he said sheepishly. “What did you want to talk about?”

Katara twisted a lock of hair around her finger and scooted closer to him.

“I’m not here to lecture you or anything. I’m not here to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do because ultimately it’s up to you and only you. You’re under a lot of stress right now, and I get that. I just don’t want, well, us,” she gestured between them, “to be a part of that stress.”

The airbender laughed nervously and looked at the trees around them to avoid her gaze. He subtly wiped his growingly sweaty hands on his cotton shirt, praying to all the spirits that she wasn’t talking about what he thought she was talking about.

“W-w-what do you mean? You, me, we’re f-friends! Good friends! Th-that’s all there is to it, right?”

“I’m talking about last night at the play,” Katara responded quietly, fingers fidgeting around in her lap. “We should talk about it.”

“Thanks a lot, spirits,” Aang groaned internally. He sighed and tucked his knees into his body.

“I think we both made it pretty clear that we want different things, Katara. It’s alright, really,” he said with a sad smile. “I made a mistake kissing you, especially after you already said you were confused, and I’m sorry. You don’t have to worry about me- I’ll get over it. I just don’t want to lose your friendship. I’d rather we just pretend like it never happened.”

The regret in his eyes was as clear as a full moon against the backdrop of a cloudless night sky, and it killed Katara from within to see it.

“We both said a lot of things that night, Aang,” she frowned. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot the last day, and I didn’t explain myself very well.”

Aang looked at her hesitantly, silently pleading with her to continue. The waterbender tried her hardest not to grin when she saw his unintentional yet extremely endearing puppy dog eyes and instead threw her head back to look at the stars above them.

“I don’t want to lose your friendship either, Aang,” Katara murmured, gazing up at the sky. “You’re the first person I’ve known from outside my tribe, the first other bender I’ve met- you showed me the world. You were my first real friend, and... also my first kiss, first three actually.”

Heat rushed up to their cheeks while Aang became very invested in the wooden flooring, eyes fully concentrated on the patterns of the boards .

“...but more than that,” Katara continued, “you’re the first person I’ve cared for this much, and my brain, my heart, really, doesn’t quite know how to feel about that.”

She tilted her head to the side to look at the boy next to her, who was now also staring at her with newfound hope.

“So yeah,” she exhaled loudly, “I’m confused. But I don’t want to pretend like none of that night ever happened, because if I’m being honest, a part of me wanted all of the… all of our kisses to happen.”

The two sat in silence for a few moments while Aang tried to process her words and formulate his own response.

“So…” Aang trailed off. “Does that mean this, us, still has a chance?”

Katara looked at their intertwined hands and gave him a sad smile.

“Maybe, but that’s just it, Aang. We can’t, not right now.”

The airbender’s cautious smile immediately dropped and was replaced by a frown as he broke eye contact.

“We’re in a war,” she murmured apologetically. “No one, especially not us, can afford to do anything differently. In three days, you’re going to be facing the Firelord, which means in three days, one way or another, this war will be over, and sacrifices will probably be made.”

“Katara, you’re not saying-”

She shook her head. “I’m not saying that, but war means making hard decisions, and in that moment, with that decision, we can’t let emotions cloud our judgement. No matter what sacrifices might be made, we have to end this before it’s too late.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t come to that,” Aang said firmly. “I don’t care what it takes.”

Katara smiled at him and leaned in to gently press a kiss to his cheek.

“I know you won’t. I also know that whatever happens with the Firelord, you’ll do the right thing. Not because you’re the Avatar and you have to, but because you’re Aang. Because you’re my Aang, and my Aang always does the right thing.”

The airbender let out a breath of relief, heart practically glowing at her faith in him, and enveloped her in an embrace.

“Thank you, Katara. For everything. For being here for me the last few months, for getting me out of that iceberg, for coming here tonight telling me what I really needed to hear. It means a lot.”

Katara happily returned the hug and squeezed him tight. “Of course, Aang.”

She furrowed her eyebrows when she noticed the circles under his eyes as they broke apart.

“It’s getting late,” Katara whispered, her fingertips lightly tracing his cheeks.

“I’ll leave you to all this-” she gestured to the candles and food, staring quizzically at the contents of the board. “-Avatar business and whatnot. I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thanks, I’ll try my best,” Aang laughed softly as the girl stood up and began walking back to her room. “Good night, Katara. Sweet dreams.”

“I know you will, Aang. Good night and don’t stay up too late- you’ll need your rest.”

The waterbender quietly exited and Aang released a heavy sigh as the door closed with a soft thud.

The airbender turned back to his spread, closed his eyes once more, and resumed his meditation, hoping that somehow, by some miracle, there was another way waiting for him.

“I sure hope you’re right, Katara. I’ll need that luck.”

#kataang #kataang week 2021 #kataang week #kataangtag #aang x katara #ember island #wrote this way later than I should've

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twisted-imagines · 4 years

Text

Octavinelle with a mer-shark!MC who's anxious about showing her true appearance.

Hi there! 👋 I'm mod Mel, this is a new writing blog dedicated to Twisted Wonderland by Disney. I'm it's sole moderator and this is my first work on here. It's only Floyd for now, but more boys are sure to come.Please enjoy yourself!❤

Floyd Leech🦈

It should have been just a simple excursion to the Coral Sea, which Floyd unbeknownst to you proclaimed a 'date', but clearly something went very wrong. The first time you came here, more like was thrown right into it, you weren't able to observe and enjoy the brilliance of the underwater world, more so had to flee from human-turned-mermen Leech brothers. Even after Octavinelle boys invited you all to the sea again, you thought, sadly, that it would be the last time you visited it. But apparently Floyd had other ideas, spontaneously dragging you to the teleport and handling you a "breath-in-water" potion along the way. With you barely registering what he was attempting to do, you two were already submerged, the boy beside you swiftly changing his appearance to his "usual" one. Looking at that face, him all giddy and eager to show you around his homeland, you couldn't get angry with him, vice versa you were really happy at the possibility to spend time with him. Maybe your first meeting was quite disastrous, and you clashed a few times after that, resulting in his friend's overblot, but your relationships have improved a lot afterwards. It seemed Floyd got really interested in the new magicless student from the other realm and you in turn... Well, in rare moments at night, when you couldn't fall asleep plagued by your thoughts, you sometimes quietly admitted to yourself, that maybe you had a tiniest crush on the ever smiling, carefree, ambiguous eel twin. You too, were very interested in him, since the day you saw him appear with his brother in all their glory to get in your way. You remember like it was just yesterday, how you didn't want to leave and just gaze at his beautiful form. You were not prepared to see something so familiar in this new world, somebody who had brought your thoughts back home so sweetly and yet so painfully close.

Oh how you wanted to tell him that, to share your own stories and see his face lit up, but you couldn't. The nagging fear of rejection, of what he would think of you didn't allow you to do. Times and times again you told yourself that he of all people would understand and accept you, but every time you tried to start the conversation you ended up closing and opening your mouth like a fish, unable to say anything. And so you kept silent.

With Floyd being so enthusiastic, basically telling your ears off, he didn't require much of your own input at the moment. You were listening attentively, picturing in your mind two young eels and a cecaelia merkids exploring the sea together, their hands entwined. This relaxing, tranquil, as much as it was possible with Floyd, dive was bringing a peace to your mind and body. You felt every sway of water, every little wave that tiny fishes caused swimming past you. The smallest thing, you could feel it reverberate within you.

It was abrupt, a state of total harmony suddenly crushed, disturbing noises filled your ears. It was obvious that Floyd felt it too, for he took a defensive stance right away, moving closer to you. One would say it was already too late, when you saw them - several orca mermaids quickly approaching you two. You were concerned, mostly because of how Floyd had reacted: he looked genuinely distressed.

"Hey, koebi-chan, it's better for you not to leave my side."

He sounded totally serious, unlike his usual cheery self. And so you obeyed, the anxiety in you growing with every second.

One of the newcomers approached you, from what you could judge she was the eldest female of them all. She looked smug and confident, leisurely briefing you about how this was their territory, how unwelcomed you were there, offering you a "deal" since they were so generous today and would gladly let you get away with your "trespassing".While Floyd was fuming with rage he still patiently listened to them. He understood, that was he alone it would not be a big deal to get away, but he could not allow you to be harmed, not on his watch, not his precious koebi-chan. He couldn't make a more displeased face while speaking with them.

"Fine~ What a pain in the ass... What's your conditions?"

Their answer made his blood boil, you could see how agitated he was, in the way he glared daggers at them, the way his fists clenched. Truth to be told, you started to feel angry yourself, their demands being just ridiculous, smirks irritating you to the core. The little skirmish was quickly escalating to a full-blown clash, even though both sides perfectly understood who had the upper hand. And maybe some of them got just a tad bit arrogant because of it.

A younger orca surged at Floyd, being confident that his sheer strength would be enough for the moray eel to cave in. You easily gauged his mistake,and your body acted on it's own.

"Don't touch Floyd, you scum!"

The last thing the orca heard was your chilling growl, before his hand was swiftly chewed off. "No mercy for foes and food", - if any motto deserved the attention of an apex predator it would be this one.

Your changing appearance took by surprise every present creature. You could feel the strain, muscles not accustomed to the process of transformation after a long period of not changing, but you tried not to mind it, the only thought in your mind being protecting the person precious to you.

When the bloody mist from fallen orca finally subdued they could take in your full image. Strong tail, just like their, but much bigger; sharp claws, just like their, but more deadly. In the reflection of their eyes you knew how you looked. Intimidating.

Even the eldest orca gave up her position and shifted back. You could clearly see the gears in her head turning: was it worth sacrificing younglings just for the chance of overpowering you. Since you too were a very "kind" person, rivaled only by your very "generous" opponents, you decided to give her a time out to think her actions over, and hopefully reflect on them.

Knowing that her choices weren't numerous, the leader orca suddenly stirred back to life, giving the group a barking command and hastily retreating with them, hoping that her luck wouldn't let her down, that you wouldn't chase her.

Which you indeed was about to do, when you remembered about your companion, who was still behind you. You felt confidence slowly leaving you, you wanted to turn around before it evaporated into nothing, but you were given no time to spare. Floyd was suddenly before you, pure delight on his face. He had this toothy smile while he was fully taking in your appearance.

"Who would have thought that koebi-chan was actually a same-chan, ahaha!~ Hey hey, how did you manage to hide it, you were so tiny just a moment before! It's super cool, that jerk definitely didn't understand what hit him!"

He definitely was enjoying himself, being very upfront with you, all in your personally space, grabbing you and giggling excitedly. You were happy one moment and totally bawling your eyes out next. You didn't even know you could cry in this gigantic, powerful and terrifying form. Floyd somehow moved even closer to you, taking your face into his hands, caressing your cheeks and fins, tracing marks and lips. Unable to piece together a coherent speech, you just clinged to him.

"Y-you are... not afraid of me, right? Floyd?"

The merman just squeezed you tighter, a light laugh escaped him.

"It's quite easy with sharks. If they want to gobble you up, they do it. Not only I'm in one piece, you actually protected me. And you know, same-chan, when you're like this you're not scary at all."

At this point, you weren't sure if he was mocking or cheering you up with this smug smirk of his. You were just glad that your worst fears happened to be nothing but fears, the Floyd's embrace melting the remains of them.

You were suddenly well aware of your position. Even attempting to pull back would be futile, the clutch of merman's tail around yours was hard.

"Oh, going somewhere, same-chan? I don't think so, you didn't tell me everything, did you? And I'm not in the mood for guessing games right now."

A wicked note entered his voice, was he toying with you?

"Same-chan, do you like me that much to willingly blow up your cover, ahaha?~"

The question he voiced was a crushing force that presses on your gills. You were stunned. You didn't know what to answer, how could you if you never allowed yourself to dwell on it for too long in fear of a very obvious answer being formed. But right now, your mind was freed from your worries, from fear, from intrusive thoughts. A crystal clear answer echoed in it.

You tentatively reached with your hands, hugging the small of boy's back, nestling further in his chest, mumbling those words earnest words more to yourself than to him.

"I do. I do like you, Floyd."

Only silence surrounded you for a moment, before your companion forcefully made you look at him. Were your imagination playing trick on you, or it really was a deep green blush on his face? Merman's heterochromatic eyes were fixated on your face looking for a hint of a joke or a lie, but neither the crease of your brows, nor the tight line of your lips told him anything except for how serious you were.

"A-are you like for real? Ahaha~Ahahahaha! Same-chan, so cute!♡ I like you too~"

You don't see him so happy very often, and mighty sea, was he beautiful. You couldn't help but join his joyous laughing. No matter, what happened prior to this, this day you will remember as the of your happiest ones. Overwhelmed with excitement, Floyd squeezed you even harder, and you were grateful to be in this form, since your chances of surviving this embrace would be close to zero in your human body.

But the feeling of his lithe body against yours, boy's cheery voice feeling your ears and undeniable warmth spreading though you from the realization of the mutual nature of your feelings, all of this was priceless.

"Nee~[Name]-chan? I don't want you to keep silent about your thoughts and feelings from now on, 'kay? They're so entertaining, and you're so impressive, I want to aaalways know you're thinking about. I won't let you leave me now, I want you to stay with me forever! But you feel the same way, right?♡“

• He's definitely telling about it to Jade and Azul!!! Boy is so excited, even if you beg him, he won't be able to contain himself so his twin will definitely know this sooner or later.

• But there's nothing to fear, while initially suspicious, Octavinelle boys are generally positive of this revelation. Somehow, you feel much more comfortable with them now.

• The news about apex predator in their school definitely gets the spotlight when Floyd drags you to his dormitory, and it's not until the later, when Jade questions Floyd's rather strong grip on your hand, that you two remember how much the status of your relationships has changed. Cue you two looking quite embarrassed and Jade with Azul just instantly understanding what is what.

• Jade is definitely supportive of his twin. "Yes, Azul, they can probably swallow the three of us at once, but they didn't." He knows how much their ability to make friends is impaired but their intimidating appearance, he's not the one to hold it against you. Jade is the one that notes, how you hadn't transformed to fight them when they were interfering with your task, but risked it to protect his brother. For that he's very grateful.

• Azul is more apprehensive of you and it's definitely not because he's frightened by the mighty "apex predator" title you have!!! Not a-at all! All it takes is just Jade reasoning with him for a bit for him to start feel ashamed of his initial reaction. It hurts very much when people judge you for your appearance and prejudices they have against you, isn't it so?

• You four are definitely going to Coral Sea together, Floyd really wants them to see your shark form. More likely than not, it was the first time any of them saw a mershark up-close and not trying to eat them. They appreciate a possibility of staying alive after such an encounter, Azul even trying to touch your fins out of sheer curiosity and Floyd quickly swatting away his hand with the most fake, passive-aggressive smile ever.

• Yes, no matter your size, race, actual strength or anything else Floyd will still stay possessive of you. You're his, and his only significant other. All will probably soon figure out that the two of you are dating now, with how much he throws himself at you and hugs you close. The smiles he gifts you are too, nothing alike of those others see.

• Since you are a powerful specie, standing in the food chain much higher than himself, he will relinquish in this, forgetting quite often to control his strength, biting and scratching much more often, and looking so happy while doing it. You'll probably need to have a chat with him about that~

• He actually can't get used to the thought that you're actually way scarier than him. Your demure looks just don't channel it at all, and he still tries to scare or intimidate you from time to time. It doesn't work. Pikachu meme but make it eel boy.

• He would LOVE to learn about your homeland, he's starry-eyed when you tell stories about you world to him. It's so interesting to him, he can't help but wonder how he managed to find such an interesting person, mermaid, fall in love with them and actually date them. He only heard about such stories in his childhood and never thought something like that was possible in reality.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #floyd leech #twst imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #floyd leech x reader #Octavinelle #octavinelle x reader #Mel writes

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octanesimp3000 · 3 years

Text

The Bunny, The Decoy and the Apex Games #7

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32034451/chapters/80096569

Summary:

Just when you thought your fake relationship with Octavio was running smoothly, a brief tussle with your feelings threatens to break the bond that you two have built over the past couple weeks.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

————————————————————————–

“So Octane, can you tell us what compelled you to confess your feelings to Ms. Y/L/N during that game? Weren’t you worried that an enemy squad might try and catch you off-guard?”

You sat with your legs crossed and your back straight in the hard chair that had been provided by the news station. The interviewer had finally stopped tiptoeing around the subject and got to the point of why you and Octavio had been invited today to this interview. You weren’t worried this time though. The previous day, the Syndicate had made sure that they’d run through every possible question that could be asked about your ‘relationship’ several times, and the both of you were ready for anything coming your way.

Octavio pretended to give his answer a moment’s thought, scratching his nose through his mask while his right bionic leg bounced the entire time. He didn’t do too well with staying still for long periods of time unless he was asleep or knocked out cold as one could expect from the high-speed daredevil. He finally spoke up, saying “Well, we kinda fought a bit before then. Y/N was worried that I was being too, uh...reckless! I got a bit annoyed at that cause I’m Octane, duh. But then, I realized she was only worried ‘cause she cares about me and I think that’s when I knew I had to tell her I cared about her too, you know?”

You reached out to take Octavio’s hand into yours, smiling over at him as sweetly as you could muster for the cameras. “I don’t think Octane was really thinking about enemy squads then. I know I wasn’t,” you said to the interview with a small laugh. As the interviewer launched into their next question about whether your relationship has brought any changes to those with the other Legends in the Apex Games, you felt Octavio gently drawing shapes on the top of your hand with his thumb. You felt your cheeks flush at the sensation but you handled the question with confidence and poise.

After a few more questions, the interview finally ended. You and Octavio climbed into the back of the black sedan sent by the Syndicate that would take you back to the dropship, feeling relieved that it had gone well. “That was kinda fun. I didn’t think you were gonna just grab my hand like that,” Octavio said before pulling his mask down to take a gulp of water from a plastic bottle.

“I thought the audience might find it cute. Do you think they’re gonna buy it?,” you asked with a satisfied grin. Octavio placed the bottle of water into the small compartment by the car door and turned to you with a thoughtful expression, his cheeks tinted pink. After a moment’s thought, Octavio merely responded with a shrug even though he definitely looked as if he’d wanted to say something and took out his phone from his pocket to play some new game he’d downloaded.

Disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm at your genius, you folded your arms across your chest and gazed out of the window as the car sped past the ruins of the Capitol City. So much history had happened here and now, it had been created into a killer playground for a game that people all around the world tuned in to.

As the sedan began to approach the roped-off area where the zip line that would take you up to the dropship’s entrance was situated, you could see the crowd of fans being held back by security. You could see several cardboard signs being held up that were drawn on with markers that said stuff like “I LOVE YOU, OCTANE” and “I WANNA GO FAST FAST FAST WITH YOU” which you honestly hoped was in the hands of an adult. Some were also wearing your merchandise with your signature quip printed over it.

Once the sedan had slowed to a stop in front of the fancy red carpet that would take you to the zip line, you opened the car door and stepped out. You were waving at the crowd which started cheering loudly when you suddenly felt Octavio, who had been standing to your left, suddenly slip his hand into yours. You turned to him with a surprised expression and Octavio leaned in close to your ear, whispering “Gotta keep up the act now, don’t we, mi princesa?”

Octavio began waving to his fans while posing for their photos as he guided you towards the zip line. You hoped your face wasn’t too red because you sure felt like your heart was about to explode from how fast it was beating. Why had Octavio whispering that in your ear gotten you so riled up, and why had his voice sounded so goddamned attractive then? You weren’t sure what was happening to your emotions right then but you were ready to get out of the public’s eye so you could stress about it privately.

Once you both had entered the dropship, you lied that you needed to go check with Ajay about something so he wouldn’t know where to find you before dashing off in the opposite direction of wherever Octavio was headed. You immediately went to the one place where you knew you’d be able to think for a bit: Pathfinder’s dorm. The other Legends rarely came by there even though Pathfinder often tried to invite them over to play a board game or two. You’d spent quite a lot of time with the robot however. You’d always felt bad that the others didn’t treat him as nicely as he did to them so you tried to make it up by being a friend.

Pathfinder was always peppy and eager to talk, but you knew that if you told him you needed some quiet to think things out, he’d happily oblige. “Hello, Y/N! How are you doing this fine day?,” Pathfinder asked with a cheery voice and a happy emoji on the screen in the centre of his chest when he answered the door. He stepped back to let you into his dorm and you immediately fell down onto one of the comfy bean bags that Pathfinder had set up in case he had any visitors.

“Would you like to play a game together? I saw on the Internet that humans like to play Monopoly so I went and got one, what fun we shall have!,” Pathfinder said happily as he pulled out the box from the bottom shelf of his bookshelf. He noticed that you had your face buried in your hands, elbows resting on your thighs and he asked “Are you not feeling too good, Y/N? I’m certified medically to help if you need it.”

You gazed up at him and said “I’m fine, Path. Don’t worry. I’m just...experiencing an emotional crisis about something I can’t even tell anyone about.” The screen on Pathfinder’s chest displayed a sad face as he moved to sit down on the bean bag next to you. He gently patted you on the head in a gesture he hoped would bring you comfort. You smiled “Thank you, Path. You’re the best.”

“Thank you, friend! I like you too,” Pathfinder said, the emoji having now changed into a smiley face with little hearts around it. You leaned back on the bean bag and stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. Maybe it was just because you’d spent so much time with Octavio in a fake relationship lately that you were beginning to imagine that you had feelings for him. Or could those butterflies you felt in your stomach earlier be genuine? You weren’t sure, and that was exactly what was bothering you. Could you actually be developing feelings for Octavio?

As soon as you thought that, you immediately tried to shake the idea off. There was no way. You must just be imagining it all. You had feelings for Elliott, not Octavio. Satisfied that you’d come to a conclusion, you decided to put any thought of it out of your mind and agreed to a quick game of chess with Pathfinder who seemed delighted to have some company that afternoon.

The quick game turned into four when you refused to leave without winning at least one round. Pathfinder was more than pleased to have you around but you suspected that he might have just let you win that final round just because you were starting to look a little bit frustrated. You walked back to your dormitory after stopping by the cafeteria for a snack and was busily digging around the brown paper bag for the last cookie as you bumped the dormitory’s door closed when you noticed that Octavio was in the room too.

A very unclothed Octavio at that.

He had his back to you, his hair and body dripping wet as if he’d just come out of the shower, a dark green towel pooled around his bionic legs. The moment you caught sight of his bare backside, you yelped in surprise and dropped your cookie in your hurry to cover your eyes with your hands. “Octavio, why didn’t you change in the bathroom like you did yesterday?!,” you asked as you turned to face towards the door and failed to judge your distance from it, causing you to bump your forehead right into it. “Ouch!”

“Are you okay, Y/N?!,” Octavio asked worriedly as he hurried over to you, not having processed what had led up to this line of events in the first place. You could feel him hovering beside you, trying to see where you had hurt yourself but you kept twisting away to avoid accidentally seeing more of Octavio’s body parts than you’d already seen. Seeming to finally sense what you were so panicked over, he finally moved back to the side of the dormitory he was previously at and put on the tank top and gray sweatpants he’d laid out before.

When Octavio said that he was dressed, you finally allowed yourself to remove your hands from your eyes and cautiously turned around to face him. “You didn’t tell me when you were coming back so after I went for a few spins around the range, I thought I’d quickly take a shower and change here. I didn’t think you’d come back so soon, sorry,” Octavio apologised quickly as he proceeded to towel his hair dry.

“I-It’s fine. Just please get dressed in the bathroom before you come back to the room in the future,” you said, not knowing exactly where to look. The gray sweatpants were honestly not helping either. To hide the growing blush on your cheeks, you bent down to sweep up the cookie and its crumbs into the palm of your hand before dumping them into the trash can. Inside the trash can, you spotted numerous empty syringes stained green from the stim Octavio used to increase his movement speed. Why’d he throw them away here if he’d used them in the practice range?

You were just about to ask Octavio about it when you noticed that he was frowning at you. “You lied to me earlier, Y/N. I bumped into Ajay on my way back here and she said she’s not seen you since yesterday,” Octavio said as he folded his arms across his chest. His anger suddenly faded and his voice gave away the pain and confusion he was feeling. “Why would you lie to me about something stupid like that?”

Surprised at this reaction, you tried to reply as best as you could without giving away what you were actually doing but failing terribly because your words came out sounding harsher than you’d planned them to be “I just...I just needed some space, okay? We’ve spent almost 24/7 with each other and I just needed a break from that. I was with Pathfinder playing Monopoly, not with Ajay. I only told you that because I didn’t want you to find me if you came looking for me, I’m sorry.”

When Octavio finally processed your words, his eyes widened and he quietly asked “So, what you’re saying is I’ve been too...what, clingy? You don’t like having me around, is that it?” You were lost for words. You didn’t understand how Octavio had made a connection between you needing some space and you not wanting to be around him entirely. But before you could try and correct him, Octavio said with a firm steeliness visible in his light green eyes “Fine. I’ll give you space.”

“Octavio, don’t be silly. I was just-wait, come back!,” you’d desperately started to explain what you’d meant when Octavio dashed out of the dormitory past you, slamming the door roughly behind him. You sat down abruptly onto the bed and flopped onto your back. Why was being in a fake relationship so hard?

#apex legends #apex octane #apex octavio silva #apex fanfic #apex legends pathfinder #pathfinder #mirage #apex mirage #elliott witt #octavio silva #fake dating #love triangle #fanfiction #apex fanfiction #apex legends fanfiction

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lunetheaveragefan · 4 years

Text

one day...

Hi! This is the beginning of the first fanfiction that I’m posting here! I hope people like it!

A Sander Sides high school AU

Pairing: Prinxiety and some background Logicality

Summary: Virgil is used to being alone. He only has one friend, Logan. But when Logan makes a new friend, things begin to change as two more join their group. Roman, a boisterous theater kid, seems determined to destroy Virgil’s lonely, average life. How much will Virgil’s life change?

Warnings: Some cursing and quick mentions of anxiety/a panic attack. If you notice anything else, let me know!

Word Count: 1,691

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CHAPTER ONE

Virgil Tempest is having a bad day.

First of all, he’d woken up late. 30 minutes late, to be exact. That left him only 10 to get ready for school, so he didn’t have time to put on his foundation. Now, the feature he hated most about himself — his freckles — would be visible for all to see.

Secondly, his favorite hoodie was in the wash, so he had to wear his old, plain black one that he hadn’t worn since at least seventh grade. It was buried in the way back of his closet, wedged between a leather jacket he’d completely forgotten he owned and the suit he had only worn once, at a funeral for some distantly related family member.

Thirdly, he forgot his headphones at home in his rush, and so now he had to suffer the whole day, unable to block out the noise of his idiotic school. He thought he had a spare pair in his backpack, but when he looked once he got to school, there weren’t any in sight.

Earlier, he thought it couldn’t get any worse, but he is sure now that it was just building up to this.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Roman Princeford apologizes loudly from above him. To say Virgil dislikes Roman would be an understatement. Roman has a ridiculously pompous name and a personality to match. The star theater kid, popular king of the school, and friend to everyone. Well, everyone except for Virgil. Even Virgil’s only friend, Logan Wise, a class-A nerd, likes Roman.

Needless to say, Virgil doesn’t see Roman’s appeal. Maybe, if Roman could stand to be a whole lot less arrogant, say, every day, or if he stopped being so excessively extra, or if he just took the time to do something other than theater and bragging, he might be tolerable. The key word there being ‘might.’

“It’s fine,” Virgil mumbles from the floor, where he had landed after Roman knocked into him while Virgil was walking. Roman had been talking to his usual group of fans, taking up most of the hallway since pretty much everyone wanted to listen to him, and had thrown out an arm in one of his usual grand gestures and pushed Virgil right over. He’d landed on the floor, books strewn everywhere, being watched by the whole hallway. Of course, it’s more crowded than usual thanks to the tall tale Roman was describing that apparently no one could afford to miss out on. It didn’t help that Roman had decided to make a big deal out of it, either.

Wishing this terrible day could just end already, Virgil shifts to a crouch and begins to gather his books. To his utter dismay, Roman bends down to help him. Annoyed as he is, Virgil can’t get up the courage to tell the other boy to leave him alone. Even so, the work goes quicker with the other boy helping, and, as much as he would hate to ever admit it, Virgil appreciates it.

They both reach for the last book on the ground at the same time, and their hands knock into each other.

“S-Sorry,” Roman says, and Virgil thinks he hears a stutter in his voice. Roman Princeford, the theater prodigy who never messes up a line, stuttering? But when Virgil looks up at Roman, there’s a blush working its way across the other boy’s tan cheeks. Strange. This close, Virgil can see the bluish specks in the other boy’s green eyes.

Roman must feel Virgil’s eyes on him, because he looks back at him, handing him his last book. Dread settles in Virgil’s stomach as he realizes that Roman must be able to see his freckles. Just as he remembers, Roman’s eyes drop to the other’s nose, where the freckles are the most noticeable. Shit, Virgil curses.

Yanking the book away from Roman, Virgil turns away and stands up, and Roman soon follows suit. There’s a redness on both of their faces now, but on Virgil’s pale skin, it’s much more visible. How long was I staring at his eyes? He shakes his head, letting his dyed-purple bangs fall over his face.

Resituating his books in his arms and weaving his way through the people, he starts the walk to his next class, art.

“Have a nice day!” Roman calls from behind him. Virgil sighs and pulls up his hood, wishing now more than ever that he had his headphones.

“Whatever,” he mutters, but the whole next period, all he can think about is Roman Princeford’s bright green eyes, tan skin, and wavy blond hair.

I must be going crazy, he decides. I mean, I know I’m gay, but gay for Roman Princeford, of all people? I don’t know him at all, and from what I’ve heard — and experienced — he’s not someone I would ever get along with. There’s no way I could possibly have a crush on him.

Right?

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At lunch, Virgil drops down in the seat next to Logan with a thud.

“Greetings,” Logan states professionally. “Am I misperceiving your body language and demeanor or was your day thus far below average in terms of relative happiness and unpleasantly abnormal?” Virgil looks at him around his bangs, puzzled.

“What?” Is he even speaking English? Virgil wonders.

“Pardon me, I forget that you are intellectually compromised when it comes to my copious vocabulary. Let me rephrase,” Logan proclaims. He clears his throat and lays his hands on the table, his fingers pressed together to form triangle-like shapes. “Did your day suck or are you just being your—” Logan waves a hand at Virgil’s body— “regular grumpy asshole self?”

Virgil is taken aback for a second before he rolls his eyes.

“Roman fucking Princeford bumped into me in the hallway, and then had the nerve to say, ‘Have a nice day!’ afterwards in that disgustingly cheery voice of his!” Virgil complains, poking at his food. He doesn’t really intend on eating any of it; the school’s food is terrible, and besides, he isn’t too hungry anyway. He has some crackers in his bag if he really needs something to eat later.

“I do not understand why you antagonize him so often, but I suppose if you refuse to change your opinions of him, there isn’t much I can do on the matter.” Logan pauses, and Virgil has a feeling he knows what’s coming next: one of Logan’s rare discussions of emotions. “But you shouldn’t just assume that everyone is out to hurt you, Virgil.”

Yup, there it is. Virgil likes Logan’s company because he isn’t too tied up in his emotions, unlike Virgil. He knows the facts, and that’s relieving when Virgil is in the midst of a period of overwhelming anxiety. But sometimes, Logan thinks he knows what’s best for Virgil, especially when it comes to matters concerning Roman Princeford.

Scoffing, Virgil crosses his arms and leans against the back of the chair. “Whatever,” he sighs.

Logan takes a deep breath, obviously trying to calm his temper, which has a habit of getting out of control, and responds, “Virgil, this is unhealthy. You have—” But before Virgil can find out what Logan thinks he has to do, another voice cuts Logan off.

“Heya, guys! How are you?” Virgil looks up to see a shorter student standing there. This new kid’s hair is a mess of amber curls, tumbling over his forehead and slipping behind his round, wire rimmed glasses. Tan skin covered in freckles and a round face gives him a youthful look, but Virgil knows that he’s a junior just like him.

His name is Patton Hart, and Virgil, surprisingly, doesn’t hate him.

Patton is known for being one of the kindest people in the school. No matter who it is, Patton will find a way to cheer someone up. Back in December of their freshman year, Patton helped Virgil calm down during a panic attack around finals. Virgil harbors no ill will towards the kid, but it’s still strange that he’d show up at their table randomly.

Then, Virgil remembers that Patton’s best friend is the one and only Roman Princeford.

Roman probably sent Patton to tell me something. Damn, I hate that stuck up asshole. Before Virgil can open his mouth to ask Patton what he wants with them, since Logan and him are the only ones anywhere near, Logan talks first.

“Hi, Patton!” His voice is so upbeat and joy-filled that Virgil has to look over at Logan to make sure he did, indeed, speak. In the seat next to him, Logan’s face is lit up with a smile, and he looks so…well, not-Logan. And, wait, is that a blush on Logan’s cheeks?

Virgil raises his eyebrows in shock and blinks a few times to make sure what he’s seeing is real. When nothing changes when he opens his eyes, Virgil ignores the strangeness of whatever’s happening next to him and looks back at Patton.

“Hey, Patton,” he greets. “What do you need?” He tries to keep his voice annoyance-free, so not to hurt the other kid’s feelings. Patton’s a little puffball of innocence and positive energy, and the whole school has made an unspoken agreement to keep it that way.

“Oh, I just came over to talk to Logan about our science project!”

“We were paired together as lab partners today,” Logan explains, still with that wide smile on his face.

Weirded out by the scene unfolding in front of him, Virgil pokes at his food one last time and decides he’s not so hungry to risk getting food poisoning.

“Alright, then,” he says, standing up, “I’ll leave you guys alone so you can talk about your nerdy physics stuff.”

“Actually, Virgil, it’s chemistry we’re taking,” Logan informs him, some semblance of his usual professional manner returning.

“Well, it’s still science, and it’s still nerdy, so my point stands.”

Patton giggles, and Logan seems to blush, but at this point, Virgil doesn’t trust his own eyes.

“Well, goodbye, kiddo!” Patton exclaims, waving. Virgil laughs at Patton’s use of ‘kiddo’ even though they're in the same grade and waves back. Telling Logan that he’ll see him later, he turns and dumps his try, finally exiting the noise of the cafeteria.

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #prinxiety #logicality #sanders sides #high school au #fanfiction #fanfic #one day...

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steppedoffaflight · 3 years

Text

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 14

Catch up on Chapter 13 here

Van is done shaving, and comes into the living room dressed and ready for his ride to arrive. He ignores you as he peeks out of the front window blinds, before fussing with his sleeves, rolling them up to his forearms. You realize that his entire shirt is one button off, and he was about to head out to the bar like that.

“Van,” You sigh, standing up. He doesn’t respond, only looks at you like he’s ready for a fight.

“C’mere,” You urge him softly, but you walk to him instead. You swallow down the lump in your throat as you start to unbutton his shirt, tears threatening to form behind your eyes. “You messed up a button.”

He realizes what you mean as you correct it, watching your fingers rebutton him.

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, desperate not to leave the night on a bad note. “I was a bitch.”

Van’s heading out for the night.

Word count: ~8.2k

A/N: content warning for some (pre-discussed) sex where one person is high but the other is sober

Chapter Fourteen August 2019

Van flew in on a Tuesday and is gone by Thursday, back to the U.K. to headline another festival. He promises to be back soon; August is full of sporadic free time between the festivals and radio events, a chance for the boys to recharge in preparation for the second leg of the United States tour that would be commencing in the fall and carry them until the Christmas season.

On that following Wednesday you’re curled up on your couch, drinking your coffee and scrolling through social media when your screen goes blank. There’s a moment of confusion before it lights up with Van’s call.

“Hey,” You answer hesitantly, expecting this to be some sort of mistake. He never calls this early.

“Hey!” Van sounds cheery and awake, the exact opposite of you at the moment. “You’re up! I timed it right!”

“You what?” You laugh, pulling away to look at the time. He’s called you at 6:15 on the dot. “You planned this?”

“Yeah! I wanted to catch you before you went to work!”

His enthusiasm is contagious, brightening up your mood slightly. You were currently wrestling with the dread in your stomach reminding you of all that would need to be done once you get to the office today. Even your usual avoidance tactic of mindlessly scrolling through social media wasn’t working that well.

“Good job,” You congratulate him before taking a sip of coffee. “How’s it going with your parents?”

Although Van could have flown back to the States immediately after the festival performances on Saturday and Sunday, he’d decided to spend a few nights at his parent’s place during the week, before coming back to California on Friday.

“Good,” Van hums, and you hear rustling in the background as he moves around. “They’re out at the shops right now to get stuff for tea.”

“Bet they love having you all to themselves.”

“Oh, they fucking do.” Van’s tone implies he doesn’t quite feel the same. “They’re cornering me every chance they get to give me a talking to.”

You think of the way Van described his parent’s adoration for him, and try to imagine what bone they could possibly have to pick with him. “A talking to? Why?”

“Because I don’t have any little ones!” His voice is high. “They’re asking me about getting married and shit! The farthest I’m looking into the future is January!”

Van had already started to express his excitement for the new year to you, when the band had a couple months of a clear schedule to get into the studio for the fourth album. Knowing his one-track mind when it comes to music, you actually feel sympathy for his parents trying to discuss anything else with him. It was a lost cause.

“Aw,” You coo, “They just want a little Van to hang out with when you’re on tour! Don’t be mean.”

“M’not tryin’ to be,” He sighs. “But I’m not worried about that stuff. I’m trying to get us selling out stadiums.”

A typical Van response. “Yeah,” You hum, feeling pity for him as well. As different as your lives were, the difficulties of being surrounded by family after being away for most of the year were one thing you shared. You know how the incessant questions and demand for every second of your free time gets to your head.

“Unless you’ve got a little one for me?” Van jokes before lowering his voice. “After last week?”

A startled laugh bursts down the line from you. “No, no,” You assure him quickly, before pausing. “Well, my period hasn’t come yet, so we’ll see.” You’re teasing, of course. It wasn’t due for a couple of days, and you were so religious about your birth control you had no doubts it’d arrive.

“Fingers crossed.”

“Van!”

“That it comes!” Van laughs. “Christ!”

You’re laughing with him, the heavy feelings of dread having been chased away. But if you didn’t get off the couch soon you’d be running late. “I gotta go get ready for work,” You tell him, still grinning.

“Yeah, alright. I just really needed to speak to someone sane,” Van sighs. “Have a good day.”

“I will,” You lie, finishing off the rest of the coffee in your mug with two gulps. “You can text me anytime you need some extra sanity.”

“Keep me in your prayers,” He says dryly. “See you Friday.”

Your period arrives that night, light and pleasantly early. Even without any doubt, Van’s joke had put a niggling sense of worry in the back of your mind, and you were relieved to put it to rest.

Thursday is business as usual, but on Friday your excitement about seeing Van is dampened significantly when you realize you’ve bled through your tampon overnight, rushing to throw your soiled underwear and sheets in the washer before work. Things only get worse from there; the entire day at your desk you’re seized by merciless cramps, accompanied by the constant need for trips to the bathroom. You’d wanted to surprise Van by picking him up at the airport that evening, but instead you let him Uber over, hoping he’s not too disappointed.

As soon as you hear the knock at your door you launch yourself off of the couch, hurrying to answer it.

There’s been a post-airplane Van McCann delivered to your porch, complete with all of his luggage. His face lights up as soon as the door swings open.

“Hey!”

“Hi,” You reply as you help him roll his two suitcases into the living room. His backpack has slipped off of the one shoulder it was resting on, and you grab the handle of it, untangling it from his arm. There’s some commotion as Van shrugs his leather jacket off, hanging it neatly on the hooks on the wall next to the door, and shimmies out of his boots, but after that small delay he goes for his usual hug, you two clinging to each other.

“Sorry I didn’t pick you up,” You say into the shoulder of his t-shirt.

“Aw, don’t worry about it,” Van brushes you off as he pulls away. “I wouldn’t wanna deal with the airport after working all day either. I’m here now, right?”

You smile at his optimism. As you grab the television remote, pausing your show and shutting down the TV, Van rolls his two suitcases into the empty guest bedroom before taking his backpack into your room.

“Are you washing the sheets?” He calls from the other room, and you realize that you’d been so caught up in Netflix you’d forgotten to make the bed before Van arrived.

“Yeah!” You call as you head to the small laundry room adjacent to the kitchen. “They’re done now, though!”

You hear the soft footsteps of Van in his socks as he follows you into the laundry room, prepared to help you carry the dried bedding to your room.

When you hand Van the rumpled ball of your comforter, he takes a moment to sniff it. “Clean sheets for me? You shouldn’t have!”

You knock the dryer door closed with your foot, trailing behind Van with the sheets. “You wish,” You tease him, dropping the pile of fabric on your bare mattress. “I bled through them, actually.”

You weren’t one to coddle grown men when it comes to the reality of periods, but once the words were out of your mouth you found yourself hoping they didn’t gross Van out too much.

“Ah.” Van nods in understanding, starting to unravel the fitted sheet. “So no little ones?”

“Will you stop?” You laugh, assisting Van in the task of attempting to get the elastic wrapped around the bed. “If you keep jinxing it I’m going to make you wear a condom again.”

“Consider my lips sealed, then.”

You smile to yourself as you two finish up the bed. It’s amazing how much Van coming over feels so natural; You’ve missed the constant joking, and forgotten how easily you two coexist in the same space. You wonder if it ever gets less exciting to see him after trips; each time it feels like a dream that he’s physically here with you. So far, that sense of wonder hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s only exacerbated the longer you two are friends, not to mention the way he’s always so happy to see you.

“Does pizza sound good for dinner?” You ask him. You hoped it did, because you had been craving it terribly all day. Also, it was the only thing that sounded even remotely appetizing with the way your hormones were causing chaos in your stomach. Besides ice cream. You wonder if you still had a carton in the freezer, or if Van would be in the mood to go get some at the soft serve place down the road.

“Pizza sounds great.”

Van does the honors of putting the order in via his app, so that dinner is his treat tonight. You two spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch, plunging back into your favorite Netflix show together as you both chow down on your spectacular dinner choice. It occurs to you for the first time tonight that you share a Netflix show with Van; one that neither of you watch when you’re apart. You wonder if there’s even a small chance that he’ll ever see you as more than a friend with benefits.

You’re awake before Van on Saturday morning, and thankfully haven’t bled onto the sheets.

Your period is still excessively heavy, and you curse the universe for doing this to you the weekend Van has to be over. There’s plenty of days he isn’t around! Why must you bleed yourself to death the days he is?

It’s one of those mornings that feel like a car stalling, refusing to get moving. You have a cup of coffee, check the news on your phone, like a few instagram posts, and watch some morning talk shows before deciding to nestle back in bed. Van’s still dead to the world as you tuck yourself in, his body wiped from the jet-lag.

The second time you wake up is to a very disoriented Van fumbling around by your nightstand.

“What are you doing?” You groan, pulling your pillow over your head to try to block out the blaring afternoon sun shining through the cracks in your blinds. You knew it was futile, and you wouldn’t be able to return peacefully to sleep now.

“Charging my phone,” Van’s voice crackles as he speaks. You peek out from the shade of your pillow to see him shove your charger into his phone, setting it on your bedside table next to yours.

“What time is it?” You mumble, regretting it when Van nudges the pillow off of your face.

“Hm?”

“I said what time is it!” You whine, tugging your pillow back into place. Your cramps hadn’t been around while you were having coffee, but they’ve definitely arrived now. Maybe you could just suffocate yourself with the pillow and be done with it.

There’s the soft tap of Van checking your phone screen. “Almost one.”

“Let’s go back to sleep,” You try. Maybe if Van lays down again you could get him to cuddle you.

“I just slept for thirteen hours,” Van snorts. “Come have a cig. Do you have eggs?”

You heave yourself up dramatically, nodding as you wipe the hair out of your face.

“Do you want some eggs and toast? I can fry up some mean breakfast potatoes too if you’ve got some.”

Your stomach growls. “Yeah, I’ve got potatoes.”

You mope to the bathroom before meeting Van in the kitchen. He’s left a cigarette and his lighter on the counter for you, and you take your first puff as he shuffles around in the fridge, his own cigarette already dangling from his mouth.

“Can you reach up into that cabinet?” You ask as he starts to lay out his ingredients on the counter. You’re grateful you remembered to get a fresh carton of eggs the last time you were at the store.

Van swings the cabinet open. “Pass me the ibuprofen. No, other bottle,” You instruct him, before he passes over the correct pill bottle.

“Not feeling well?” He asks, watching you wash your ibuprofen down with a swig of his coffee.

“These cramps are fucking killing me,” You complain as you pass the bottle back, Van tucking it back on its shelf. “They’re not usually this bad.”

Van hums to show he’s listening, but you leave it at that.

You prep the potatoes while Van makes you both a plate of eggs, peeling and slicing them exactly as Van demands. He didn’t lie about his potato-frying abilities, and soon you’re both seated at the table with heaping piles of fluffy eggs and crispy potatoes, ravenous after sleeping way too late. Neither of you realize you’ve forgotten to make toast until you’re done eating.

Afterwards, you two pass the rest of your afternoon away on the couch, watching television. Van lets you nestle yourself under his arm, cramming your legs into the depths of the couch cushions so that you can press your body against his, your head resting comfortably on his chest.

When TV starts to get boring Van maneuvers to the YouTube app, determined to show you a few of the band’s performances. He’d only recently become aware how much you really didn’t know about them, and was determined to bring you up to speed. You had tried to stay clueless on purpose; you figured if you went full-on-fangirl, scouring social media for content and insider information, that you’d probably look at the boys in a different light. You liked that you hadn’t been a fan of them when you’d met Van, and that you had no social media persona to compare to the boys you hang out with in the flesh. But you figure there’s no harm in watching a few performances of the setlist you’d already seen three times, especially when Van is so proud to show them to you.

You’re watching on-screen Van belt out Twice when you realize Van’s been texting through the last three songs. Obviously, watching videos of himself is probably not the most entertaining thing in the world for him, but you couldn’t bear for his attention to be elsewhere.

“Stop texting,” You whine, rubbing your cheek against his shirt.

“Sorry,” Van mumbles, but he still doesn’t put his phone down. “Do you want to go out tonight?”

Despite feeling like hell warmed over, you perk up. “Where?”

“Out to the pub. A couple of mates are in town and want to catch me for some late birthday drinks.”

You sink back into Van’s chest, disappointed. You were hoping Van had been proposing a dinner for just the two of you, like you hadn’t had since the first time he ever took you out. You were craving something romantic like that from him. Why hadn’t you ever gone out on another date? It must be because that’s when he realized he wasn’t interested in you romantically. Sure, you two have had some romantic moments in the comfort of your own homes, but there was something about getting dressed up and going out that felt so much more official and exciting.

“Nah,” You tell him. “I feel like shit.”

“You’ll be okay if I go?”

You rest your chin on his chest, peering up at his concerned face. “Yes! I can even pick you up, if you want.”

At this, Van breaks out into a grin. “You’d do that for me? That’d be ace, actually.”

You push the hair from his face, realizing you’d just agreed to stay up tonight waiting on his call. “Of course,” You assure him, before pressing your cheek back into his shirt. “But if I’m gonna have to wait up then let me sleep on you until you’ve got to get ready.”

You hear Van set his phone down on the coffee table. “What about a li’l kip? Throw that blanket over us, will ya?”

You unravel the blanket in question, draping it over both of your bodies as you two wiggle into a comfortable position. Van is warm and soft, and the sound of his breathing creates the perfect conditions for you to doze off almost immediately.

You both wake up to the alarm Van’s set, your domestic bliss ruined by Van needing to get ready for the bar. You stay slumped on the couch, watching in amusement as he hauls one of his suitcases out of the guest bedroom, rifling through it for his toothbrush and the least wrinkled button up he’d packed. He’s such a chaotic, last-minute type of person, and there’s something about getting to enjoy the show without actually having to get yourself ready that cheers you up.

Van is blow drying his hair into his typical waves when you shift on the couch and swear you feel the familiar warmth of your tampon leaking.

You try to hold still. Van will be leaving soon, and you can worry about it then. But then you cringe as you feel the sensation again, and then you remember you’re not wearing a liner right now, and you stand up from the couch.

“Hey, can I steal the bathroom for a sec?” You ask, hesitant to disturb Van. He’s got shaving cream on his face, and he looks at you in disbelief.

“Right this second?” He asks, but his tone lets you know it’s a trick question. He’s rushing to run the razor over his jaw, and you cringe, expecting him to cut himself moving that quickly.

“I just need it really quick,” You plead, dreading the surprise that awaits when you pull down your underwear.

“Y/N,” Van huffs. He hasn’t even looked over at your reflection standing in the doorway, too focused on shaving. “I’m in the middle of having a shave and I’m gonna be late! I don’t care if you take a fucking shit in front of me! Have at it!”

“Okay, oh my God, fine!” You snap, stomping behind Van to the toilet. You tried to be polite, but if he was going to be a jerk, why even bother?

You yank down your underwear, and predictably they’re soiled with a nice-sized red inkblot where your tampon had leaked. You kick off your sweatpants in order to get your underwear off. Guess you’d be doing a load of laundry tonight while you waited on Van.

You tug your tampon out, which is horrifically, overly full. You’ve got to dispose of it in your bathroom trash, which you keep in the cupboard under the sink, which Van is currently blocking as he stands in front of the sink.

“Can you move?” You snarl, still annoyed with him for not giving you privacy. His head jerks down to look at you, and you can see the anger flash through his eyes at your words. Just as he’s opening his mouth, no doubt to chew you out, you see his eyes dart to the tampon precariously dangling between your fingertips, stained and dripping onto the toilet seat.

He shuts his mouth and steps back, allowing you to open the cupboard with one hand and dispose of the tampon in the other. You scowl as you wipe yourself and insert a new tampon before snatching your underwear and sweats, marching out of the bathroom pantsless.

You immediately treat your underwear with stain remover, throwing them directly into the washer. Then you storm room to room, looking for other articles of clothing to wash with it. You weren’t going to go through all this hassle over one fucking item of clothing.

But even after emptying your bedroom hamper and throwing the kitchen hand towels in for the sake of it, there’s still only enough clothes to coat the metal bottom of the barrel. You decide to go through Van’s suitcase sitting out on the living room floor. You angrily sniff each stupid button up and matching black shirt, throwing them with all of your might towards the kitchen so they’d be easier to get into the laundry room. Why was this entire suitcase full of identical clothes? Why didn’t he ever wear any fucking color except black or navy blue? At this rate he might as well just keep two of the same outfit and rotate through them!

With his dirty jeans, socks, shirts and underwear, there’s finally enough things to consider starting the washer worthwhile. You’re still upset, pouring fabric softener over Van’s clothes at the top of the pile as if you’re dousing them with gasoline, and slamming the lid shut with a loud metal echo as you get the water running. Then you head into your bedroom, get some fresh pants on, and resume your spot on the couch.

Van is so fucking annoying!!! You immediately send to Mary.

You wait for her to respond before you send her the scalding paragraph explaining the situation that you’ve already started mentally drafting. In the meantime you flick through other apps, angry at everyone living their perfect little lives on instagram, and tweeting about their perfect little significant others on twitter.

But the longer you sit there, the more your anger starts to fade. You think back to Van’s face when you bitched at him, and how he didn’t even react. He hadn’t even been that rude, now that you reflect on the situation. He was only in a rush. Soon you’re left with just a cold pit in your stomach, and the embarrassment of realizing you’d completely overreacted.

“Van,” You sigh, standing up. He doesn’t respond, only looks at you like he’s ready for a fight.

He realizes what you mean as you correct it, watching your fingers rebutton him.

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, desperate not to leave the night on a bad note. “I was a bitch.”

Van snorts at your words, tugging you in. “I should’ve just stepped out for a sec.”

“You were in a rush,” You excuse him tearfully. Why are you on the verge of crying? You realize you sound pathetic, but there’s nothing you can do about it. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I feel really bad.”

Van gives you a soft smile, before leaning in for a quick kiss. “You’re forgiven.”

“I hope I am. I’ve got all your dirty clothes from your suitcase in the washer.”

“Oh, you’re definitely forgiven now,” Van grins. There’s the shine of headlights against the blinds, and Van peeks out again. “Okay, gotta go. I’ll call ya!”

And with that he’s bouncing out of the front door, and the countdown starts until you’ve got to go retrieve him from whatever state he drinks himself into.

You can’t doze off. You’ve just gotta stay busy. That’s your mantra as the hours pass. You finish up the load of laundry, you clean the bathroom that Van’s ripped through like a tornado, and then you get engrossed in the book you’re reading. It’s tempting to think that you’ll wake up to your ringtone if you turn your phone up, but you know better. Once you’re out for the night you sleep like a rock.

At one A.M. your contacts are dried out for the day, and you exchange them for your glasses. At two you have to force yourself to sit upright on the couch, because sprawling out is making your body feel too warm and heavy. And at three you decide to step out onto the porch and have a cigarette for some fresh air.

Your phone is wedged in the crack of the couch, and as soon as you’re in from your cigarette you check your notifications. In the few minutes you were away from your phone there’s now one new notification, a missed call from Van. Before you can return the call, your phone is ringing again.

“You ready?” You greet him. You feel more awake, a fresh bolt of excitement shooting through you at the fact you’re going to see him again, and get to sleep next to him tonight.

“I am,” Van confirms. “I thought you fell asleep.”

There’s a slur around the edges of his words, and you’re excited to get to converse with drunk Van tonight, even though he’s not so different from sober Van.

“Nope! Just having a cigarette. Where am I going?”

There’s some commotion on the end of the line as you listen to Van ask another person where he’s at, but then he’s able to give you someone’s address. Apparently someone had decided to keep the night going at one of their houses rather than head to another bar.

There’s never a time that L.A. is fully asleep, but if you had to pick a good time to be on the road it would be now, at three in the morning. The traffic is minimal, and although you struggle to find Van’s friend’s place amidst the subdivision of identical homes, eventually Van steps outside and you see his lanky silhouette stumbling down the driveway a few houses down the street. You pull forward and he climbs into the front passenger seat.

“Have fun?” You ask, as Van buckles himself in.

“Yeah,” Van nods. His voice sounds a bit dreamy, like his head’s in the clouds. “It was nice catching up with them.”

The ‘them’ in question were a few other indie artists signed to the same label as Catfish. Van mumbles for a bit about their conversations and a new single they had played him that was supposed to impact radio in the next week or so. You’re not listening too intently, humming along in response as you get back on the main roads.

You suddenly spot the bright golden arches of a McDonald’s sign, and your stomach growls. You know if you don’t have a late night snack now, your stomach would never let you sleep.

“Hungry?” You ask as you start to turn into the drive thru. Whether or not Van wanted something, you were definitely getting some fries. And maybe a McChicken, come to think of it.

“No, I’m fine,” Van says, tapping away at his phone. He was texting someone, his fingers composing a message at rapid speed before you watch the bubble slide up as he sends it. Who the hell was he texting this late?

“Who are you texting?” You ask as soon as you’re done placing your order at the window. You keep your voice light, hoping to seem conversational rather than nosy.

“Um, Bond.” Van tucks his phone back into his pocket.

“Oh, was he out with you guys?”

“No. I just wanted to send him a quick note about a riff before I forgot.”

You roll your eyes to yourself, even if you feel a swell of affection for him. Van McCann, classic workaholic even when he’s drunk.

“Can we turn the air up?” Van sighs suddenly, shifting around in his seat. “It’s sweltering.”

There’s a breeze flowing through your open window that’s giving your arms goosebumps, but you suppose it probably feels humid for Van since his window is closed. “Yeah, turn it up.”

You don’t expect him to crank the knob to the highest setting, sending ice cold air blasting through the vents.

You leave the air conditioning alone as you pull forward to get your bag of food, but as soon as your window is closed the cabin of the car is freezing. You click the knob back a few settings, so a snowstorm is no longer roaring at you.

“What’d you do that for?” Van huffs, wiping at his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “I’m dying!”

“I’m dying!” You protest, “You’re trying to freeze me out!”

“Freeze you out?” Van argues, “You’ve basically got it on heat!”

You look over at him in utter confusion. The temperature setting was set to coldest and the vents were blowing at a higher setting than you ever bothered to use. In the glow of the red light you were currently stopped at, you could see that Van was very visibly sweating.

As you continue the route back to your house, Van goes so far as to undo all his buttons, tugging his shirt off of his shoulders so that he was sitting there in only his black t-shirt. So dramatic.

“Can I have some chips?” Van asks, but without further ado he’s pulled a few fries from the brown bag with his fingertips, chowing down. You sigh, but let him get away with it.

When he goes to take another handful, you reach over without looking, snatching the bag from his lap. “You said you didn’t want anything!”

“I don’t! They just smell good!”

The road is empty, so you glance over at Van in frustration. He’s staring at you in annoyance, wide eyed like he doesn’t see a problem with him helping himself to your food. Maybe you wouldn’t notice on someone with darker colored eyes, but immediately you’re startled to see there’s almost no blue to his irises.

It all clicks together in your head suddenly. “Are you high?”

Van’s jaw hangs open slightly, but he doesn’t dispute it. The overheating, the dilated pupils, being an absolute spaz texting Bondy about guitar solos in the middle of the night. All of the signs are there.

“You took ecstasy, didn’t you?” You grin in delight at having figured it out, poking at his chest. His body is radiating heat. “You did! Admit it!”

“I didn’t lie!” Van crosses his arms, slumping back in his seat as he offers you a lopsided grin. “I never said I didn’t!”

You pull onto your street, Van trailing behind you as you head into the house with your bag of food, not trusting him with it. “Well, you can stay up all night, but I’m going to bed.”

“M’not gonna be up all night,” Van tells you, but he’s vibrating with energy as he sits down on the couch next to you.

You tug your McChicken out of the bag, unwrapping it immediately so you can take the first bite. You only shrug. Although you had occasionally been around others who were on molly, Van was the only one of you two with first-person experience.

“Hey,” Van says suddenly. “You’re wearing your glasses.”

“I am.” He’s seen you in them on rare occasions, but tonight he’s looking at you intently like he’s seeing them for the first time.

“You look hot,” He says finally.

You almost choke on the fry you’re swallowing. “Yeah right. Shut up.”

“You do! Like a sexy secretary.”

You roll your eyes, not justifying him with a response. There was a distinct difference between a secretary in a revealing button up and a short skirt, and you sitting there on your couch in one of Van’s crewnecks you’d stolen on a night you’d stayed over and baggy, shapeless sweatpants. But if Van was high enough to confuse the two, more power to him.

“I’m going to bed,” You announce after you’d finished off your McChicken. There’s a handful of fries left in the red cardboard packaging, and you shake them at Van in offering. He takes them gratefully.

“Not without me,” He says with his mouth full, inhaling your leftover fries and standing up from the couch with you. You gather up all of your trash, piling it in the bag before heading to the kitchen to throw it out.

Van follows you into the bedroom, and you startle when his fingers sneak under the hem of your crewneck.

“What are you doing?” You laugh, elbowing him as he brings his hands to your stomach, pulling you backwards into his chest. “Let me get ready for bed!”

The more you struggle against him the tighter he holds you, his fingers trailing up your ribs and to your chest. You continue to attempt to fight him off, giggling the entire time.

“Don’t you try to sneak second base,” You tease, his hands coming back out of your sweatshirt, although he still wraps his arms around your middle, his nose coming into your hair.

“You’re soft,” He whines, running his hands up and down your front over your clothes. “And you smell good.”

“If you wanna cuddle me, get in bed.” You finally shake yourself free of his embrace, shedding your borrowed sweatshirt and heading for the dresser to grab a sleep shirt. Van isn’t discreet with the way he’s staring at your topless figure, practically drooling as he peels away his own shirt and undoes his belt.

Climbing into bed after your long night waiting for Van feels like heaven, and you’re relieved to fold up your glasses and perch them on your bedside table, the true mark of a day ending.

Van climbs in beside you, and you click the lamp off, the room going pitch black. You flip on your side so that you’re facing Van. Your eyes adjust to the darkness, the streetlights glowing through the window and barely illuminating his face.

“Can I have that cuddle now?” He asks quietly, and you laugh, wiggling closer to him as a yes.

You expect him to wrap his arm around you, but instead his fingers sneak right back under your shirt, before he slides his palm against the small of your back, rubbing up and down. You close your eyes, soothed by the sweep of his hand, before you feel his hair tickling your nose and his lips on your neck.

“Van,” You huff in surprise. “That’s not cuddling!”

“Sure it is.” You can hear the laughter in Van’s voice as he resumes kissing up and down the line of your neck. It feels pretty fucking good, so you close your eyes and relax against your pillow.

“It’s not,” You still reply, not willing to let him have the last word. “But you’re lucky you’re good with your mouth.”

Van moans against your skin. “I can’t get enough of you,” He confesses as he stops kissing your neck in favor of joining your lips. As he licks into your mouth he starts to maneuver you onto your back, his hand now rubbing your side as he starts to hover over you. “Fuck. You feel so good.”

His words send a shiver up your spine, even though you’re not exactly sure what he’s referring to. The kissing? Your skin? He’s kissing you with more urgency now, and your hand comes up to his cheek. His skin is smooth and soft from his shave, and you swipe your thumb back and forth.

“Oh shit, that feels so good,” Van groans, and you feel it right in the depths of your belly.

“This?” You ask, swiping your thumb again.

“Yeah,” Van pants, kissing you harder. “Just touch me. Touch me everywhere, fuck.”

You didn’t need any more encouragement to get your hands on him. Your hands roam all over, scratching his scalp, the back of his neck, his shoulders. You feel him break out in goosebumps as you trace your fingertips against the bumps of his spine.

“Don’t stop,” Van pleads when you pause, lost in the kissing for a moment. You think back to that conversation you’d had on the patio about how much he liked taking ecstasy. You hadn’t realized he enjoyed it this much.

“Are you gonna come?” You can’t help but ask, because you realize now he wasn’t kidding about simple touches putting him on the verge. He was still in his briefs, but he was clearly rock hard.

“Fuck if I know. It feels like I already have,” Van nuzzles against your chest, practically purring when you put your hands in his hair again. “Oh, fuck, just like that.”

You laugh in surprise at his words. “Is it really that good?”

Van swears again as you give the back of his neck and gentle squeeze, and you take that as a yes.

“Let me fuck you,” Van pleads, sitting up so he can look directly into your eyes. He’s clearly out of his mind with desire. “Please.”

“You won’t last,” You joke, stroking your thumb over one of his nipples. He shudders helplessly.

“Don’t I know it,” He laughs at himself. “But you’re so fit. Please.”

“I dunno.” Your hesitation looks like it’s causing Van an excruciating amount of pain. “You’re not thinking straight.”

“We’ve talked about it when I had my head on right,” Van begs, watching as you trail one single finger up and down his stomach and chest. “Plus, you’re my best friend.”

He must be extraordinarily high if he’s slipped on his favorite British slang of best mate. You can tell that waiting for your word is intensely tortuous for him.

“Uh, no to fucking,” Comes your ultimate decision, realizing that’d be logistically hard to navigate with your period and a hazy Van. “But lay down. And get your underwear off.”

Van scrambles to do as you say, all of his limbs vibrating with need. When you climb down between his legs, nudging his thighs open, you feel them try to close instinctively.

“Don’t smother me,” You warn him, but your voice is lacking any actual threat. Van pants as you press his knees open, and after a moment’s consideration you sneak your fingers underneath them. It’s a sensitive spot for him on a regular day, but he jumps out of his skin at your gentle touch tonight. God, ecstasy-high Van was so fun to explore. Even in the extremely low light of the room you can see how badly his dick is craving to be touched, flushed and curved against his lower belly and shiny with precome.

You knew that foreplay wasn’t an option here, so with one calculated motion you’ve pulled Van’s foreskin back with a flick of your wrist, wrapping your mouth around his dick and swiping your tongue over the ridge of his head as he cries out.

He’s shuddering against the sheets like any moment might be the last, and you know that there’s no way he can give you an accurate warning in his current state. You lap up each spurt of precome, the hand not holding his dick in place reaching down to touch his balls. You decide not to give them their usual attention this time, instead sneaking your fingertips underneath them, and up towards the base. Maybe Van’s never been touched here, or maybe he’s just enjoying it to the extreme, but his dick twitches inside of your mouth, his toes curling.

When you feel you’ve given him a decent amount of head, surprised he’s held off like he has, you pull back, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to the head of his dick. You wipe your mouth dry with the back of your hand before wrapping a palm around Van, jerking him off quickly. You retract your fingertips from behind Van’s balls, instead running your nails up and down his inner thigh.

With a gasp he starts to come, and you continue to jerk him off as he comes onto his stomach in heavy spatters, his whole body contracting through his orgasm. You’re careful not to release him prematurely, jerking him off until he’s cringing with sensitivity, writhing away from your touch.

You lean your torso off of the bed, snatching Van’s shirt from the floor. You wipe him off with careful strokes, soiling his shirt with every last drop. You offer him a clean corner of the fabric so that he can wipe the sweat off of his face.

“Are you good?” You ask once he’s tossed the shirt back onto the floor, and he furrows his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Good? I don’t think I’ve ever felt this fucking good in my entire life,” He insists.

You grin at the compliment, poking at his hip. “I mean, are you overheating? Do you need some water or, like, ice or something?”

“I think I’m alright. I’ll grab some water after I piss.”

While Van heads to the bathroom you stumble around in your dark kitchen, preparing him a glass of water. You hear him groan from the bathroom, the door hanging open.

“Even pissing feels incredible,” He tells you when he comes out. You pass him the ice water as you take your turn, laughing as you do.

Your body feels like a block of lead as you climb back under the covers this time, actually ready to sleep. The only thing preventing that from happening was Van sitting upright smoking a cigarette, lamplight beaming into your eyes.

“Have a fag,” He tells you. “Get ready for round two.”

“Round two?” You sputter, shaking your head. “You fucking wish!”

“I meant for you!” Van laughs. He kindly offers his cigarette out to you, and you prop yourself up on one elbow to steal a quick drag. “Gotta make sure you get off, don’t I?”

“What a gentleman,” You joke, nestling back under the sheets. “But I’m going to sleep.”

“No fair. Even for head?”

“I’m on my period,” You remind him, rolling over so the lightbulb wasn’t shining in your eyes. “I already told you you’d be up all night alone.”

Van sighs. You doze off immediately, only to be woken up an indeterminable amount of time later to Van clicking the light off, and leaving the bedroom after grabbing your guitar.

You’re up around ten the next morning, feeling amazingly refreshed after sleeping like the dead. Van, on the other hand, is sitting on the couch, puffing through a cigarette, looking considerably less refreshed.

“Morning!” You quip cheerfully just to piss him off. It works. He offers you a death glare. “Write any good songs?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Guess we’ll see what the lads think.” He trails after you into the kitchen, where there’s a pot of coffee already brewed and partially gone.

You marvel at the sort of friendship the band has. You didn’t think anybody could pay you enough to write songs on drugs and then present them to your coworkers. But then again, maybe it was worse when they were sober songs that Van had really poured his heart into.

“Having fun on your comedown?”

“I’m crawling out of my fucking skin. Not to mention the hangover.”

“Can’t sleep it off?”

“Not yet,” Van sighs. He’s got deep, dark circles under his eyes, and his cigarette is trembling where he’s holding it between his fingers so he can take a sip of black coffee from the mug he’d just refilled. “But once my head shuts up, I will.”

You understand the terror of intense anxiety and panic attacks, and that’s without any drugs. Watching Van’s hyperactivity transmute to panic is hard to watch. You’ve never seen happy-go-lucky Van less like himself. You feel bad now for teasing him.

“Do you wanna try? I can lay back down with you,” You offer out of pity. He shakes his head.

You finish up your coffee before getting the water running for a shower. Mary was making a trip to Costco today, and since you didn’t have a membership you were planning to go with her this afternoon.

“Can I get in with you?” Van calls from the living room.

“Yeah!” You yell so that he can hear you, your voice echoing against the tile as you start to strip.

When Van comes in his eyes wander up and down over your body. “Is it still your time of the month?” He asks, smiling weakly.

“Unfortunately,” You sigh, tugging your tampon out right in front of him. Clearly as of yesterday you two were at this level of familiarity. You realize he’s still smiling. “Why?”

“Gotta return the favor, remember?” He reminds you as his own clothes start to litter the bathroom floor.

You haven’t been in the mood lately, too frustrated with the bloating and the cramps and the bleeding to feel even slightly attractive, but something about Van always pushes those worries aside.

“Hm, I guess you do,” You singsong as you step behind your shower curtain into the warm spray of water. “But you better hurry, I gotta go to Costco with Mary.”

Van is incredibly efficient, bending you over so that he can fuck you while also sneaking a hand around to keep warm, wet circles over your clit. As much as you usually despise doggy style there’s something perfect about it today, the water pounding down on the small of your back while you brace yourself against the tile with your forearms, struggling not to slip as Van thrusts into you. You’re deliciously sensitive because of your period, and after only a few minutes of Van’s concentrated attention with his fingertips you’re groaning through your orgasm, your knees trembling as Van’s fingers continue to move against you.

Van pulls out, jerking himself off until you feel him come on the swell of your ass. Then his waterlogged palm flushes water over your skin, carefully cleaning himself off of you.

“That was very pornstar of you,” You tease breathlessly when you’ve stood up straight, soaking the rest of your scalp so you can finally wash your hair.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Van admits sheepishly. “Thought now would be the perfect time.”

You wonder if he means he’s always wanted to do that to you, or if he’s never done it in general. But then you remember that you’re the only one that’s ever fucked him while he was on ecstasy, and decide to be happy with that win regardless.

After sex and a shower Van is looking a little more normal. His cheeks are flushed pink from the heat, a welcome change from the pallor of his complexion when you’d greeted him this morning. He’s looking a little more content, a little less like a walking panic attack, and after he changes into some clothes he hasn’t sweat through you convince him to try getting into bed.

He’s a grown man, and doesn’t need you to oversee his nap, but that doesn’t stop you from following him into your room, and getting into bed with him. It would be perfect if you could calm him down enough to sleep in the next half hour, so that you could get ready and go shopping without having to worry.

You sit up against your headboard and nudge his head into your lap, playing with his damp hair while he tries to settle in.

“Are you mad?” He asks, his voice muffled against your thigh.

“Mad about what?” You giggle softly, rolling your eyes.

“Have I ruined your Sunday?”

“No!” You scoff. “If anything, you just made it a lot better.”

Van grins against you at that. “You’re my best mate.”

“I know.” You sigh, half from fondness and half from the desire to be more. “You’re mine, too.”

“Don’t forget about me when I’m touring next month.”

“I could never,” You laugh, ruffling his hair in punishment. “I know you’ll come by when you can.”

Van relaxes against you, some of the demons in his head clearly appeased at your words. You wonder what other anxieties are swirling around there, if he ever has to worry about finances or forgetting to mail something or whether or not he left damp clothes in the washer or the stove on at home. It feels like he sails through life unhindered by such tedious worries, but now you’ve seen first hand he has them like everyone else. He worries about burdening others with his hangovers, and being replaced by his best friend while he’s working.

Slept in way too late, you lie to Mary after picking up your phone from the nightstand. I’ll go with you next week!

You’re grateful last night you left your book on the nightstand instead of putting it away on the shelf, your glasses and book perfectly within reach without you having to disturb Van. This was a way better way to spend your Sunday rather than pacing through crowded aisles in a warehouse. You hold your book with one hand, still fussing with the ends of Van’s hair with the other, and enjoy your last day of the weekend.

#summer's a knife #catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #catb #catb fic #van mccann fanfiction #vanfic #catfish and the bottlemen fanfiction #van mccann fic

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years

Text

Bare Bones {Theory 1} ⋇ Pope Heyward ⋇

description: Pippa Cantu has always been a little…strange. With a knack for knowing everything there is to know about every conspiracy, every mystery, and every weird happening, she doesn’t have much time (or desire) for friends. But when her chemistry lab partner asks her to join him and his friends on a hunt for the Royal Merchant, she just can’t say no.

Theory 1 summary: Pippa meets Pope and gets a little closer than she would have liked.

word count - 3.9k

warnings: swearing

a/n: thank you for being here! I am already in love with Pippa and I would die for her, so I hope that you all enjoy this story!! Much love.

***

Pippa flinched when the school bell rang. Keeping her head down, she ducked into her first class and found the seat farthest in the back. She had always hated the public school system in Maine, and even from her first period on her first day of school, she knew she was going to hate Kildare High just as much.

Who in their right mind makes someone take Chemistry Lab at 8 o’clock in the fucking morning?

Students started to fill in the seats around her, some glancing at her out of the corner of their eyes and others greeting each other with giggles and hugs and smiles. Pippa scoffed and lowered her head to her arms. All she wanted to do was get through this day and then the next day and then the next. That’s how time passed for her as of late. Nothing else mattered except getting through to the night.

Someone slid into the chair across from her, but Pippa didn’t take notice of them. She didn’t care. She wasn’t here to make friends. In fact, she was here to do the exact opposite.

“Hi,” the person said. Pippa still refused to look up. “I’m Pope.”

Pippa forced a split-second smile, glancing at him.

The final bell rang and the boy in front of her, who kept his smile despite her coldness, turned toward the teacher. Pippa scoffed again and leaned forward to rest her chin against her arms. The boy, Pope, was glued to the teacher as she spoke in a cheery, overly excited voice. Pippa couldn’t care less what she had to say. Until the dreaded words came out of her mouth. She said those two words that Pippa feared the most when she found out she was taking Chem Lab on Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 8 AM.

Lab partners.

“Shit,” Pippa groaned, sitting up but letting her head hang. Pope seemed eager to hear who his partner would be.

The teacher started rattling off names, none of which Pippa recognized. Of course she wouldn’t. She had spent this entire summer hiding away in her grandma’s second-hand store, avoiding repeated human interaction at all costs. Some people were vocally happy about their assigned lab partners, others were less so. Pippa waited for her name anxiously, dreading the idea of spending an entire year with one single person as her partner.

“Phillipa Cantu and Pope Heyward at table- Ah, the two of you are already back there.” The teacher, Mrs. Stedfield smiled sweetly but Pippa just closed her eyes and sent a quiet prayer for her nerves.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” she whispered under her breath as Pope turned to face her with a wide grin.

“Phillipa, huh?” He said, leaning against his elbow and raising an eyebrow. Pippa could see this as an attempt to flirt, a poor one. Whoever told him that this was a good idea was a dumbass.

“Pippa,” she said shortly. “No one calls me Phillipa.”

“Well, Pippa,” he said her name with a partial grin. “I’m very excited to be your lab partner.”

She hid a groan behind an attempted smile and clenched teeth.

This was going to be a long year.

***

Pippa didn’t have much to say about Pope, but there was one thing for certain, he was determined.

It didn’t take him long to figure out that Pippa wasn’t to keen on small talk, so he always talked about what they were studying in class. She liked him a lot more when he was talking about science because it was something he actually seemed passionate about. But every time she caught herself smiling or even almost laughing at one of his stupid jokes, Pippa would remind herself why she was here.

Don’t get attached. It’s not worth it. It’s never worth it.

But he was getting too close. He kept asking questions, kept pushing her harder to break through the walls she had made for herself. And Pippa couldn’t have that.

“So, what do you do when you’re not working or at school?” Pope asked from behind a titration tube. Pippa glanced up at him, but he was focused on what he was doing. He wasn’t really listening.

“I heard that the government replaced all of the birds with drones,” Pippa said, testing the waters. She glanced up at Pope but he didn’t say anything, didn’t even look away from what he was currently doing. “One of the origin stories of werewolves was just a really hairy man who stole and ate children in Europe.”

“Hmm. Really?”

Pippa could tell Pope wasn’t listening to what she was saying, just responding absently. With a smile, she continued.

“Up until the 1800s, people in Germany thought drinking fresh blood from executed criminals could cure epilepsy.”

Still no response. Pippa’s smile grew wider.

From that moment on, every time Pope asked her a question, she would respond with one of her many random facts or theories. He never listened. Pippa started using it on others too. As soon as she got into a conversation, she somehow turned it into one of her crazy stories. It usually made everyone keep their distance. No one really wanted to talk to the crazy conspiracy theory girl who seemed way too interested in HH Holmes and the death of Princess Diana.

“I like your outfit,” Pope said one day. Pippa glanced down at what she was wearing; an oversized hoody and a loose pair of pants. Nothing extraordinary, but he hadn’t even looked hard enough to really see what she was wearing.

“Thanks,” she said, setting her bag down on the ground. “Back to Jack the Ripper, I’m pretty sure Mary Kelly’s boyfriend manipulated James Maybrick, you know, the rich guy with the drug problem?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah, so Joseph manipulated Maybrick into thinking he was the Ripper so if the cops came knocking on Joseph’s door, he could pin it on Maybrick. Maybrick got it all muddled up in his druggie head and started to believe he was Ripper, so he wrote the diary. It all fits.”

“Sure. Did you do the homework last night?”

“Oh, yeah.” Pippa pulled out her notebook and handed it to Pope.

“Thanks. My friend tore out a page and used it for a blunt.”

“Some friend,” Pippa grumbled.

“He’s great.” Pope’s voice was tight. “I’m sure you’d like him.”

Pippa rolled her eyes. She had two guesses which friend he was talking about; John Routledge, who everyone insisted calling John B but that was the most annoying shit Pippa had ever heard, or JJ Maybank, who was most likely the homework stealing thief. Both had hit on her once before in a time of desperation, but one mention of Area 51 or the Bermuda Triangle and they were gone.

It was too easy. A girl opens her mouth and starts talking about the things she’s passionate about and most guys scatter. If Pope had the opportunity, she imagined he would leave to.

For the briefest of a moment, the idea pained her.

“Something tells me I really wouldn’t like your friend.”

It was March and the air was starting to get hot. Pippa hated the heat, not because it was uncomfortable, but because it meant taking off her protective layer. It was rare to see Pippa without her sweatshirt, and for good reason. She didn’t feel safe without it.

The Bunsen burners didn’t help. Of course they were using them today, the hottest day of the year so far. Pippa could feel the sweat beading down the back of her neck as she stammered her way through a theory about aliens and the Giant Heads of Easter Island and their bodies.

“Hey, you good?” Pope asked, stopping half-way through writing something down. Pippa struggled to nod. “Why don’t you just take off your sweater?”

Pippa tightened her jaw. How could she tell a boy that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath? But just from the shift her eyes, Pope seemed to understand. He turned off the Bunsen burner and pulled off his goggles.

“I have an extra shirt,” Pope said, reaching for his backpack.

“It’s fine,” Pippa said through her teeth.

“Pippa, come on.” He pulled the t-shirt out of his backpack and shoved it into her hands before she could protest. “Can’t have my partner fainting on me, now can I?”

The half-smile on his face was sincere. Pippa narrowed her eyes but left to go to the bathroom anyway. There was an ounce of relief as she pulled her sweatshirt off of her body. It felt like she could finally breathe. She pulled Pope’s t-shirt on over her head and her stomach twisted into knots. She hated seeing her arms. Something about it felt so unsafe.

But Pope’s shirt was big on her and it was at least baggy in the way she liked, so she thought she was just going to have to put with it.

There was a blush on her cheeks when she walked into the Chemistry lab. Pope had his goggles on when she returned, having gone right back to the lab they were doing. He didn’t look up at her as she came back and she was grateful for it.

“Here, can you write this down for me?” He asked, hovering a stick over the fire. The fire burned green.

“Sweet,” Pippa said with a smile. She scribbled down what she could, not noticing as Pope looked away from the fire to admire how she looked in his shirt. As soon as she looked back up, he turned his face away. “You wanna hear about how Amelia Airheart sent an SOS message after she went missing but it was ignored because they didn’t think she could survive?”

“Sure.”

***

Pippa was sitting in the library, bobbing her head to the music that blasted through her earbuds. Her computer sat in front of her, a thousand and one tabs open at once. Two notebooks and a few more research books lay out around her. A color-coded selection of pens and highlighters was scattered about. The table where she worked was an absolute mess, but it made sense to her.

She was so consumed by an article and her music that she didn’t see Pope sit down in front of her. Her foot tapped against the leg of her chair while she chewed on a pen cap, eyes scanning the page. It wasn’t until she tore her gaze from the screen to scribble something in one of her notebooks that she saw Pope sitting there.

The pen cap fell out of her mouth with a gasp and a jolt of her body. Pippa flicked an earbud out of her ear.

“Shit, Pope!” she hissed before taking a calming breath. He seemed unphased by her shock, a book of his own resting in his lap.

“What are you listening to?” He asked, turning the page in his book. Pippa felt a lump form in her throat.

“Nothing.”

“I can hear it from here. What is it?”

“What do you care?”

Pope smiled at her and gave a quiet laugh.

“It’s just music, Pippa. Not like I’m asking for your life story or anything.” Pippa rolled her eyes before sliding her phone across the table for him to see. “Hmm.”

Pippa snatched her phone back, her cheeks brushed red and her eyebrows pinched together.

“Hmm, what?”

“Never pegged you for the One Direction type.”

“It’s called versatility, Heyward. Look it up.” Pippa huffed and leaned back in her chair. “Is there a reason you’re gracing me with your presence today?”

“We gotta work on that final project at some point. Came over to talk to you about it, but I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Pippa shook off her hostility and gave a shrug of her shoulders. She capped her pen and lowered the screen of her computer.

“Nothing important.”

“Aliens?”

“1500s shipwreck full of gold.”

“Ah.” Pope let the moment wear on for a few silent seconds before he leaned his arms against the table. Pippa crossed her arms. “This is a pretty big project, so I think we should start soon.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe we should swap numbers so we can link up.”

“Link up?” Pippa raised an eyebrow. All the coolness fell from around Pope instantly and his eyes widened.

“I just mean...well, for the sake of the project...shit, no, I just mean….we have to get together at some point-”

“Relax, Pope.” Pippa let out a quiet laugh and scribbled her number onto the corner of a notebook and tore it out, sliding it across the table to Pope. “For emergencies only. Everything else we do face to face, capiche?”

“What, are you on witness protection or something?” Pope joked as his eyes scanned the string of numbers on the paper. Her handwriting was shit. God, he hoped he could read it well enough to text the right person.

The look on Pippa’s face didn’t affirm or deny his question. At this rate, Pope wouldn’t be surprised if she was.

“Can we meet after school today?” he asked. “I’ve got to help my dad with some stuff tomorrow and Friday.”

“Sure,” Pippa said, before leaning back and stretching her arms above her head. Diving headfirst into her theories left her back aching, even if it was only for a free period like today.

She stretched her arms high up enough to reveal a small sliver of her stomach, but something caught Pope’s eyes.

“Woah, is that a tattoo?” He asked, a grin growing on his face. Pippa dropped her arms and her eyes widened.

Shit.

There was no lying her way out of this one. She was just going to have to run with it. Forcing a smile, Pippa lifted the edge of her sweatshirt and showed him the whole thing. The roman numeral ten was etched in black ink into her skin just under her belly button and a little bit to the left. It seemed like odd placement to Pope.

“What’s it mean?” he asked.

“X marks the spot,” she said with a half-grin. “Had to get something to represent my obsession, ya know.”

Pope nodded his head slowly, but a voice in his head told him there was something deeper than that.

“My best friend Kie, she’s got like three of them,” he said. Pippa lowered her shirt. “A dolphin, a wave, and something else, I don’t remember.”

Pippa felt her smile turn into something real. She watched the way Pope’s face lit up when he talked about her, Kie. It wasn’t the first time. On the rare occasion that he actually tried to hold a conversation with Pippa, he would often talk about this girl. Pippa didn’t know a whole bunch about her, but whoever she was, she made Pope very happy.

But that smile on Pippa’s face was starting to feel too comfortable. Talking to Pope as a whole was starting to feel too comfortable.

Pippa let her smile fall and she started to shut her books.

“I have History,” she said, slamming her laptop all the way shut. “Can’t be late.”

She had the books and notebooks packed up in a blink of an eye and before Pope could even say goodbye, she was gone.

***

“A crystal pyramid in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle, can you believe it?” Pippa shook her head slowly. She let herself laugh, looking down at her bowl of cereal. “Anyway, what do you want-”

“Are you going to the school dance?” Pope asked suddenly, turning away from their project and toward Pippa. She sat cross-legged on his counter, a bowl of cereal in her hand. The spoon was halfway to her mouth when she froze, her lips parting ever so slightly.

“Oh, um, no.” She set the spoon back in the bowl. She struggled to meet Pope’s eyes. She could feel the question burning inside of him but she refused to let him ask it. “I’ve got...shit to do that day.”

“What kind of shit?” he asked, looking back at the project. “Conspiracy shit? Alien shit? Cult shit? Or wait, let me guess, murder shit?”

Pippa let out a strained laugh.

“Unfortunately, no. Just...personal shit.”

Pope hummed quietly to himself. Pippa cringed. He was disappointed, upset, hurt. Something somewhere in between.

“So, the project.”

“Right.” Pippa slid off the counter, setting her bowl down and stepping closer to Pope, but not too close.

The front door swung open suddenly. Pope spun around and Pippa dropped to the ground, feeling her heart tighten in her chest painfully, her lungs dropping into her stomach.

“Mom!” Pope smiled as Mrs. Heyward walked in through the door.

“Hey, Sweetie. Where’s that friend of yours?”

Pippa was still on the ground, her eyes squeezed shut. Her heart pounded in her ears and her fingers curled against the tile beneath her. She just had to stand up and smile, that was all. It was just Pope’s mom. She was safe.

Letting out a struggling breath, Pippa pushed herself up onto her feet.

“Slipped,” she said simply, attempting to smile at Mrs. Heyward.

“Happens to everyone.” Mrs. Heyward handed a bag of groceries off to her son and approached Pippa, her arms open for a hug.

“Mom,” Pope said. “She’s not into hugs.”

Mrs. Heyward stopped in her tracks, but her smile never once faltered.

“That’s okay. It’s not for everyone. I’m Pope’s mom. We’re glad to have you here.” Pippa could feel her breath growing short, the squeezing her chest never once letting up as she tightened her hands into fists. Adrenaline ran through her. She tried to cover it up with a smile. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Pippa gave a quick shake of her head.

“No, I should be getting home.” She tried not to run for the door. “Text me, Pope.”

Plucking her purse off the ground and shoving her feet into her shoes, Pippa barely heard Pope or Mrs. Heyward give their goodbyes as she raced outside.

“That was strange,” Mrs. Heyward said, setting her things on the counter.

“Yeah.” Pope let out a deep sigh. “She’s strange person.”

“Pope Heyward.” Mrs. Heyward gave Pope’s shoulder a light pinch. “Don’t ever say that about a girl.”

“I don’t think she would take it as an insult.” Pope’s gaze shifted toward the door, his eyes lingering.

Had she known that he wanted to ask her to the dance? Was that why she ran away so fast? Or was it something else? Something about her that he didn’t yet know that made her scurry away?

Pope wondered if she would ever let him find out.

***

“Well, look at that, Heyward.” Pippa grinned as she slapped their final report onto their lab table. “That’s an A for us.”

Pope took the paper and admired the big, red letter. A smile broke out across his face.

“God, you’re such a nerd,” Pippa laughed, sitting on her stool and giving herself a small push so the chair swiveled around in a circle.

“I’m the nerd?” Pope asked, mock offended as he put the paper back onto the table.

“You’re on the Mathletics team,” Pippa said. “I’m pretty sure you qualify as a nerd.”

Pope felt a small laugh shake through him. He watched Pippa look up at the clock and sigh.

“Last class together,” Pope said. His lips twitched as he rested his arms against the table. Whatever feeling was in Pippa’s eyes faded and she let out a scoff.

“You sound like we’re dying once that clock strikes 9:30. It’s just summer,” she said.

“But we don’t know if we’ll have classes together next year or not,” he said. Pippa sighed again, but it was smaller. She tried to hide it as she brushed her hand against her nose.

“That’s the way the dice fall sometimes.”

“We could hang during the summer though, right?” He didn’t care if he sounded desperate.

“Maybe.” But her answer was clear by the way her gaze fell to the floor. She wasn’t interested in hanging out over the summertime. Pope just wished she would tell him why.

The bell overhead rang. Pippa took her time pulling her backpack onto her shoulders. Pope stayed where he was. She offered something to him.

“Forgot to give this back,” she said, refusing to look at him. In her hands was his t-shirt, the one he had given her all the way back in March. “That’s my bad.”

Pope looked at the shirt and pulled it from her hands.

“Don’t take it personal,” she said and let out a heavy breath. “It’s better this way. Yeah, it’s better.”

With that, Pippa fell into the stream of kids leaving the classroom, disappearing almost instantly.

***

Pope fiddled with the phone in his hand. His thumb hovered over the call button on her contact. He hadn’t seen her since that last day of school, actively avoiding the secondhand shop where she worked with her grandmother.

“What are you waiting for?” JJ groaned. “Just call her, dude!”

Pope glowered at his friend and pressed the button while his irritation was still strong enough to overcome his fear.

The line rang once, twice, three times. The fear returned. She wasn’t going to pick up. She would see his contact on her phone and ignore him. He was sure of it.

“Hey, Pope, waddup?” Pope smiled at the sound of her voice. She sounded so normal, as if they had just spoken yesterday and not an entire month ago.

“Hi, Pippa, how are you?”

“Pretty good. How are you?”

“I’m doing good.”

“Cut the shit,” JJ hissed, throwing a pebble at Pope’s head. Pope swatted his arm in JJ’s direction, sneering.

“I have a question for you.”

“Clearly.” He could hear her hesitant laugh from the other side.

“You’re not asking her on a date, man!” John B was impatiently waiting from the side, his hands on his hips. Kie took a step toward him and Pope met her gaze. There was encouragement beneath her eyes, and she gave him a small nod.

“Pippa, what do you know about the Royal Merchant?”

He could hear her breath hitch in her throat as she fell silent.

“I know a shit ton about the Royal Merchant. Why?”

There was excitement in her voice, her thirst for adventure radiating through the phone.

“My friends and I need your help. Can you meet us at the Wreck?”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He could hear her shuffling around her room.

“See you there. Bye-”

The line went dead. Pope breathed out through his nose, pulling the phone away from his ear.

“So?” Kie asked, taking another step closer.

“She’s meeting us at the Wreck in ten,” Pope said, turning to his friends. John B clapped his hands together and started toward the van.

“To the Wreck then,” Kie said. She put a hand on Pope’s shoulder and smiled. His stomach flipped. “Good job.”

“I don’t see why we need this chick anyway,” JJ huffed as they headed toward the van.

“I doubt she’ll even want a cut of the gold at all,” Pope told his friend.

“Bullshit. No way she’d do this for free.”

“I’m serious.”

“You have the weirdest friends, Pope,” JJ said with a roll of his eyes.

“You’re my friend, dumbass.”

“His point stands,” John B interrupted, a never faltering smile on his face. “Let’s go get that gold.”

~~~

tagging - @simonsbluee, @parkerpetertingle, @diverrdown, @ponyboys-sunsets, @outerbanksbro, @kikifromtheblock, @sunflowerbecca

if you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know! ❤

#pope heyward #pope obx #pope outer banks #pope fic #pope imagine #outer banks #obx #jj maybank #jj obx #kie carrera #kie obx #john b routledge #john b obx

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readyplayerhobi · 5 years

Text

A Court of Moonlight | 01

; Werewolf!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

; Genre: Fantasy, fluff, future angst, future smut

; Word Count: 14.7k

; Synopsis: As Prince Hoseok’s personal attendant, you travel with him on a diplomatic visit to Lunatis, home of the werewolves. There, you meet the enigmatic and intrguing werewolf prince, Min Yoongi, and discover more than you expected as a mere attendant.

; Spin-off from A Court of Curses

; A/N: So...this is only part one but as you can see, it’s already almost 15k so I thought it better to split in two! I’ve been working on this for a while; I hope it’s okay and you enjoy! Please, please reblog if you enjoyed so that other people can see it alongside liking it and I would love you forever if you leave me a comment or ask giving me feedback or your thoughts! :3 it helps encourage me on!

Folding the silk shirt in your hands carefully, you placed it down alongside the other articles of clothing that take up the large, ornate leather luggage case before running your fingers along the incredibly soft material gently. Turning your attention to the next shirt that has been passed to you by Soyeon, you give her a soft smile as she smiles in turn at you.

“Are you excited? I’ve never travelled beyond Hekatalia before.” She asks, her face sweet while her pretty eyes are wide and round with excitement for you. Soyeon is the Queen’s personal attendant, working almost solely to accommodate the Queen of Hekatalia’s wishes and demands.

Due to her busy life of ruling the kingdom, the Queen of the Witches was unable to travel to foreign kingdom’s herself. For the first 100 years of her rule, she had emissaries sent to her or hosted visiting royals and leaders while Hekatalia sent out its own emissaries to foreign nations.

But the last ten years had seen her husband take on a larger role in Hekatalian Court. Prince Hoseok, the Crown Prince of Sanguinus and Prince Consort of Hekatalia, had slowly begun to undertake diplomatic journeys to neighbouring kingdoms to provide a personal touch from the royal family that had been simply impossible beforehand.

The Queen’s entire family had been killed during the Great Demonic War, which had left her physically unable to leave her lands rulerless. Her marriage to Prince Hoseok had been forced upon her by the Faerie and werewolf kingdoms which had combined the vampires and the witches for the first time in history.

But it wasn’t a typical marriage; the marriage bonds also resulted in a curse being laid upon them both. Immortality was granted to them, but they had been forced to spend six months of the year in one another’s company and the remaining six months apart.

Any attempts to stay away or see each other during the respective time periods resulted in great pain for them both. Their kingdoms had to remain invested in the curse as well, as if the curse was ignored then the pain would spread out to the people of their kingdom, slowly killing until there was nothing left.

As such, both kingdoms had grudgingly accepted the marriage and curse itself.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the first one hundred years of their marriage had been cold and glacial to onlookers. Centuries upon centuries of hatred, anger and bloodshed did not merely vanish overnight. Or so everyone thought.

Ten years ago however, Prince Hoseok had returned only three months after he had left. It should have been impossible, and they should have been screaming in agony at the pain of being near each other. And yet the Queen had ran to him, hands trailing over his face gently before they had sealed their reunion with a deep and passionate kiss.

While those closest to the Queen had been aware of the kindled love between the star-crossed lovers, the rest of the kingdom’s had been shocked to find out that the cursed couple had fallen in love decades before.

Despite this, the vampires were still not trusted by the majority of the witch population of Hekatalia, but Prince Hoseok had become slowly beloved by the population. His obvious adoration of the Queen likely had something to do with that, alongside the much heralded arrival of Princess Soo-Ah nine months ago.

For one hundred and five years, Prince Hoseok had not been assigned a personal attendant when he resided in the palace and simply had various servants serve him temporarily. As far as you understood it, Soyeon had acted as an informal personal attendant for him sometimes while she served the Queen as well. But Soyeon’s marriage to the Keeper of Words, Park Jimin, had meant Prince Hoseok had required a legitimate attendant.

Which is where you came in.

For five years now, you have acted as Prince Hoseok’s personal attendant in Hekatalia. You have dressed him, cleaned his room and his clothes, attended to his every whim and ensured that he has been happy in the palace. The appointment had been nerve wracking to you, still afraid of being around a vampire but you’d been pleased to find Prince Hoseok was a kind and sweet master.

This would be the first time that you were to travel with him outside of Hekatalia to accompany him on his diplomatic travels though. His normal attendant who accompanied him on such journey’s unable to due to illness. And it was to the strange wildlands of the Lunatus Pack, the ruling werewolf class of the Lupine nation.

“I am excited, but nervous as well. What if I do something that reflects badly on Hekatalia?” You chew at your lip nervously as you finish folding the remaining clothes and pack them away carefully, closing the lid of the luggage case and securing it so that nothing will fall out during the journey there.

Soyeon lets out a light laugh; the sound airy and sugary sweet. You watch her for a moment as she finishes packing a second luggage case that is filled with Prince Hoseok’s formal clothing and locks that case up too. Gesturing to the two guards who stand just inside the doorframe, they immediately whisper a spell that has the cases levitating slowly and following them out of the room.

“I doubt you will do anything that will make Hekatalia look bad. You’re not going to be meeting any of the royalty while there, that’s Prince Hoseok’s job. So unless you plan on destroying his room for him, or doing something illegal then you will be fine. And His Highness will protect you, you know that. He’s got a soft spot for you.” She grins, nudging you lightly in the ribs as you both leave his rooms.

Rolling your eyes, you stick your tongue at her rather childishly. Soyeon was right though, Prince Hoseok was incredibly kind to you and part of you thought it was simply because he appreciated someone being nice to him in turn. He had spent a long time being lonely in the halls of this palace, so just as Soyeon had become a friend to the Queen, you had become a friend to him alongside his close friendships with Soyeon’s husband, Jimin, and the Captain of the Guard, and your cousin, Jeon Jungkook.

“Is the Queen saying goodbye to him?” You ask, reaching the corridor upon which the door to the carriages resided. Soyeon chuckled and shook her head, fingers lifting up to place a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“She said goodbye to him earlier, unfortunately she has the dignitary from the Sídhe to court today. I believe Prince Hoseok was going to the nursery to say his goodbyes to little Princess Soo-Ah, so you will likely need to go retrieve him.” Face breaking out into a smile, you chuckle in response and bow your head slightly.

You wait to leave until she disappears behind the door, likely to go say goodbye to her own husband who will be accompanying the prince on his journey due to his knowledge of werewolf society and trade agreements.

Turning, you move through the halls of the palace with an experienced ease, the intricate routes written into your brain from years of travelling them. The nursery is a new addition to the palace, an old storage room on the first level being converted into a room that Princess Soo-Ah would use as she grew up.

Her days were spent here, in the company of nursemaids and assistants while her parents attended to their day-to-day jobs. They both came and spent as much of their free time as they could with her, and Princess Soo-Ah slept in their bedroom at night.

The Queen and Prince Consort both maintained their own rooms, though it was well known that they both slept in one bed. Princess Soo-Ah, by their command, was to spend her nights with her parents. Even if it meant they lost precious sleep.

Due to his lesser schedule, it was usually Prince Hoseok who could be found in the nursery with his daughter. His complete and utter adoration for the tiny ball of dual sunshine and thunder was well known to all citizens of Hekatalia by now, and there was nothing that could put a smile on his face quicker than the sight of his tiny daughter.

Which is why you knew he would still be here, cuddling with her and likely reluctant to leave her for three months.

Opening the door, you look around the vast room with an idle eye for a moment. The walls had been painted a soothing pale yellow with an alternating white that had been specifically created to make everything seem cheery and bright. Princess Soo-Ah was deeply beloved by her parents and they wanted her childhood to be as happy as possible.

As such, exquisite handmade wooden toys sat around the room on cabinets and shelving units, simply waiting for the little princess to be old enough to play with them properly. Comfortable, plush armchairs sit beneath the giant window that looked out onto the gardens, a bookcase already filled with famous nursery rhymes and stories from both Sanguinus and Hekatalia.

In the corner of the room is an intricate rocking horse, its skin a gleaming midnight black with a soft mane and tail of silver stars that fell to the floor. The dip in the horse’s face gave away it’s Sanguinati breeding while a delicate, red leather saddle and bridle sat waiting for the princess to ride. It had been a gift from Prince Hoseok’s parents in Sanguinus to celebrate the birth of a child that no-one had thought was possible.

Princess Soo-Ah’s nursemaid sits in a rocking chair in the opposite corner, hands working diligently on a knitting pattern and you recognise the beginnings of a warm and cosy jumper. Unlike her parents, Princess Soo-Ah was always dressed in what looked comfortable and warm. They felt that there was no need for a baby to be dressed to impress and simply wanted her to be happy.

Her crib stands against a wall, the dark and rich wood sourced from a copse of trees that have been soaked in magic from a nearby Source before being carved by master carpenters. All along the elegant wood are tiny engravings symbolic to both the vampires and witches, combining her heritage together.

And in the centre of the room, on a pale white rug, lay perhaps the most important person to the entire kingdom right now. Princess Soo-Ah is tiny, even at nine months old. She had been born two months early, likely due to her dual nature according to the physicians, and there was a worry that she would remain small.

But you had seen how quickly she was growing, and had no concerns about the sweet girl. She was likely going to grow up big and strong, just like her parents.

The man you had come to coax away was laid next to her on his side, his head resting on his arm where it lay underneath him while his other hand lay on Princess Soo-Ah. She was still so small that his hand took up almost her entire stomach, causing you to smile at the sheer love and adoration that radiated from his eyes.

You couldn’t hear him, but you could see the way Prince Hoseok’s lips moved as he whispered to his precious daughter. She gurgled in response, legs kicking happily as her head moved to face him and give him the brightest smile of happiness.

He grinned in response and you heard his soft laugh as his body shook before he shuffled closer to press a sweet kiss to her head before pulling back to watch her some more.

It was quite the dichotomy to watch, the large and astonishingly handsome vampire wearing all black, from his leather boots to his coat, in the middle of a room that was everything soft and mellow. You found it hard to believe vampires were capable of extreme bloodshed and violence while watching the gentle and tender way he handles his daughter.

“Prince Hoseok? We are ready to leave now and are waiting for you. Please can you accompany me to the carriage?” You keep your words low and quiet, noting how he doesn’t even give any indication he was surprised by your arrival.

He wouldn’t be of course; vampires had superior hearing to witches.

Sighing, his lips turn down in an unhappy frown as he moves even closer to her until he’s got his nose in her downy soft hair, inhaling her scent deeply with closed eyes. “Daddy has to leave now princess. I’ll be back before you know it though, so be good for your mummy okay? And...don’t grow too fast while I’m gone. Please. I love you sweet girl, daddy loves you. So much. I’ll miss you.”

He presses a final kiss to her head before getting up, simply kneeling there and watching her for a few moments with a forlorn look upon his face before he stands. Looking at the nursemaid, he bows his head to her. “Please take care of her. And make sure she gets her mid-morning cuddles.”

“Don’t worry, Your Highness, I’ve already cleared out my schedule to make sure she doesn’t miss out.” The voice comes from behind you, causing you to jump with a squeak. Turning, you spot the adorable smile of Jeon Jungkook and scowl at him. Your cousin has always had an annoying ability to jump up on you.

With a final glance to his daughter, Prince Hoseok follows you out of the nursery and to the carriage, slapping a hand onto Jungkook’s shoulder with enough strength to make the younger man wince. “What does that mean?”

“It means...I know you’d worry about her so I’ve made sure that I can give her the cuddles you can’t. She’ll know it’s not you, but it’s her routine now right? And I’m not saying no to some cuddles with my favourite girl.” Jungkook smiles sweetly and you can’t help but shake your head with a smile. He’s always been a giant softie underneath his hard exterior, but you can see how much it means to Prince Hoseok as he struggles for a moment to keep a composed face.

This is the longest he will be apart from his daughter and wife, and despite spending years used to not being able to be near the one he loves, it obviously hasn’t gotten any easier for him.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He whispers, nodding at Jungkook before heading out the door. Watching as he leaves, you turn to Jungkook before giving him a quick hug and patting at his chest.

“You are so soft. He really does appreciate it though, I hope you know that.” You grin, opening the door and turning to face him. Jungkook laughs and nods, resting a hand on the pommel of the sword at his hip.

“That’s why I did it.”

The journey to Lunatis, the land of the werewolves, was a long one and it passed through a wide variety of landscapes that changed drastically, including Sanguinus. Prince Hoseok’s own homeland was to the north of Hekatalia and according to all you had heard and read, it was a land that was vast and varied in its geography.

Barren sand dunes ate at the land in the west in vast deserts that shifted constantly before giving way to rocky peaks that soared into the sky in the east. Hills bucked their way in the land inbetween, and it was only as their land reached the Hekatalian border that it calmed and became gentle fields fit for growing crops and other plants.

The magic that enriched the very soil of Hekatalia also calmed the lands you and all your ancestors had been born onto. Forests were a rarity in Sanguinus apparently, but they were fairly common in the witchlands. Magic adored nature, and the careful use of it over the millennia by witches had soothed it into a pleasant presence that explained the absence of any extremes in either weather or landscape.

Lunatis however, was a land that was wild even by the vampire’s and the faeries standards. The people who inhabited it were closer to nature than anyone, even the witches. You lived with your magic in harmony with nature, but the wolves were a part of the very fabric of the land. The link between animals and humanity, joining the two together in an eternal bond.

You’d heard many rumours over the years about the wolf clans that inhabited the mountainous forests of Lunatis; situated to the east of Sanguinus and the north of the Fae lands. Some said their animal natures were a curse from a long dead witch, others said it was nature’s punishment for doing something so evil it had been forgotten in the minds of all.

Even the immortal Fae claimed ignorance of their origins, proving them to be one of the original races of the world you inhabited. The vampires were the newest, created millennia ago by a rogue sect of witches according to the Queen.

Still, you were excited and nervous to travel to the heart of their wildlands. During the long days it had taken to finally cross into the border of Lunatis, moving through Sanguinus at a steady pace, Prince Hoseok and Jimin had informed you of many tales involving the werewolves.

Apparently Prince Hoseok had visited their lands a few times as a dignitary for the Sanguinati court and was more acquainted with the Lunatus Pack than any other. It had been with fascination that you’d listened to his stories of their Great Hunts upon which the howls of hundreds of wolves could be heard echoing through the dense forests.

He always seemed to be half fascinated and half disgusted with them, but Jimin had informed you with a sly grin that it was purely because the two races didn’t get along very well. At their very nature, the vampires had originated from witches and so when they weren’t trying to kill each other the two got on surprisingly well.

Particularly given the positive interactions over the last ten years since the revelation of the Amendment to the curse.

But the vampires were a prim and proper race, a society that thrived on rules and fashion and elegance. It was a rare day to see Prince Hoseok without looking like he could take the starring role in an epic ball, dancing his way through a ballroom with royalty from any nation with a grace and poise that had been drilled into him since childhood.

The wolves apparently, were a little more baser in their instincts. An incredulous look had often appears on Prince Hoseok’s face when he talked about some of their customs. Their love of leather and fur seemed to be a particular sticking point, along with their complete lack of fighting skills.

You had pointed out many times that they could turn into wolves, so what did they need to fight for? To which he’d sneered lightly and pointed out that witches could use magic, so why did your soldiers learn to fight too?

It was a good point, but you’d simply retorted that you thought he sounded a little snobby and prim. That had Jimin chortling for a good five minutes while Prince Hoseok had looked distinctly unimpressed.

He wasn’t stuck up, he’d insisted, he had just learnt how to be proper.

As much as you enjoyed working for him, and he was your Queen’s husband which automatically meant he had your respect, you couldn’t help but tease him constantly about it on the journey in the cramped carriage. Which was why the topic was being repeated once more as you looked out in wonder at the towering forests.

The forests of Hekatalia felt like home, welcoming and warm with a current in the air that whispered of magic that had kept your ancestors going through tough times. Lunatis truly did feel wild and untamed, the magic here almost crackling with energy from the lack of a source and a conduit like your Queen.

Your carriage was moving along a mountain road, bumpy and uneven yet still well used. The vantage of being so high up the mountain meant that you could see ahead for miles, and all you could see was a veritable ocean of rich, sumptuous green as conifer trees spread far into the distance.

They grew untamed along the sides of the great, heaving mountains that had punched their way out of the ground in angry bursts, jagged peaks covered in layers of crystal white snow. Endless blue sky stretched ahead, making everything look so bright and vivid and you found yourself pressing your face closer to the glass window.

“You know Your Highness, I can understand why they wear furs now. It’s quite cold here, so it’s surely just common sense to make sure that you can live comfortably?” The question slips from your mouth as you scan over the top of the wave of the forest, noting the smoke that makes its way lazily to the sky at various points.

Werewolf villages likely, maybe even hamlets given how dense the forest was packed. A ribbon of shame ran through you as a momentary thought of the wolves being too uncivilised to be able to have great cities ran through your head and you shook it carefully.

They lived in an untamed nature, but it did not mean that they themselves were untamed.

You recalled seeing some of the Lunatus Pack a few years ago when they had arrived for a meeting with the Queen. They had looked just as everyone else had, if only their outfits had looked a little more weather worn.

The imposing landscape in front of you made it all the more understandable, and you understand why they retained a part of their wildness. It was likely the only way to survive in such a foreboding land.

Prince Hoseok lets out a quiet murmur, his gaze focused far beyond the mountain range as he rests his chin in his hand. These last few days have been the closest you've seen to him being almost casual, the long hours in the carriage cramped for you all and campsites at night testing all your resolves.

It's obvious that he misses his home though, and most importantly the family in it.

“It's beautiful isn't it?” Jimin muses quietly as he looks out of the window too. You nod in response before sighing.

“It's magnificent. I love Hekatalia but it has nothing on this.” And you truly mean it. You loved your homeland and the way everything seemed peaceful and pleasant, but there was something astonishingly beautiful about Lunatis. As if nature had fought magic for millennia and nature had won.

“You should see Sanguinus if you want natural beauty. Lunatis is beautiful and rugged, but Sanguinus has everything. Mountains, deserts, plains…” Prince Hoseok's voice trails off slowly, almost as if he’s aware of how he sounds, but a glance at Jimin tells you that you both heard the wistful tone to his words and you recognise that he’s not being mean.

He doesn't visit his homeland very often anymore; his duties as a husband and father out weighing those of an heir. You know the vampires are okay with this at the moment, but the future is uncertain.

One day, he will take the throne of Sanguinus. But his wife, the Queen of the Witches, would be unable to rule in that land with him due to the symbiotic relationship between her and the Source of magic in Hekatalia.

Which likely explained why he spent so much time with his family now, because it would be reduced in the future.

Still, you are curious about his homeland. He rarely mentions it, preferring not to stir any potential vampire hatred but the mountains of Lunatis must be somewhat similar to those of his childhood home.

“Do you miss it? Sanguinus? I know you haven't visited in two years,” He doesn't respond for a moment and you bow your head. “My apologies for intruding Your Highness.”

Prince Hoseok waves a hand lazily, his mouth quirking. “It's fine. You both are almost family anyway. And I do. I miss the blazing heat of summer when the winds blow the desert air to us and the freezing cold of the winter when the mountains hold us in their grasp. Hekatalia is wonderful, but it is tamed. There's something delightful about being at the mercy of nature.”

“I feel if a werewolf said that then you'd be snorting and rolling your eyes at them for being savage or something.” Jimin points out dryly, stretching out his legs as best he can in the cramped space.

The Prince let's out a small laugh and nods. “Maybe. I don't really think they're savage though. They respect nature in a way that no one else does and are a very hardy people. We just...don't have a good history. You forget that the wolves have a whole academy devoted to vampire hunting.”

“That's to hunt wayward vampires though. The ones who have gone rogue and won't submit to law.” You watch the conversation with wide eyed fascination.

“Yeah, they do. At the behest of my own kingdom sometimes because they're that good. The perfect trackers. Doesn't stop them from killing innocents too. If you can believe it, the witches are not our bogeyman. Ours howls in the night as a warning.” The small space goes silent then, and Jimin catches your eye with an awkward smile.

Prince Hoseok doesn’t seem to recognise the uncomfortable situation though and that alone tells you that he’s speaking the truth. Only people who have experienced things like that can talk about it with so much carelessness.

None of you speak further for the rest of the day, the night spent in a comfortable inn that had the protection of the guards who had come along with you to protect the Prince. Though as far as you knew, he was military capable himself and could probably deal with whatever came his way.

Although his comments about the vampire hunters made you worry for him that night, fussing over him a little more than normal as you helped him prepare for sleep. To his amusement, you’re sure, because there’s no way Lunatis would murder the Sanguinati Crown Prince and the Hekatalian Prince Consort.

You shuddered at just imagining the destruction your Queen would rain down on this mountainous nation in her grief and anger.

Not that they could actually kill him of course, but this was all just hypothetical obviously.

Needless to say, you’d been a little more anxious throughout the night and the rest of the journey to the home of the Lunatus Pack. Jimin could tell and kept trying to reassure you that all was fine, but it was hard to stop the anxiety that filled you.

The city that the majority of the Lunatus Pack inhabited proved to be an awe-inspiring sight when you finally came upon it, even if it looked almost nothing like the cities you were used to seeing in Hekatalia. Lykos, named for their animal counterpart, was imposing in a way that Hekatalian cities could never be.

Small buildings of timber dotted the outskirts, buried within the expansive forest before they slowly merged into a blend of stone and wood. By the time the carriage had reached what you presumed to be the centre of the city, the buildings were tall and built of solid stone. Further along the road, you noted an impressive looking complex that had been carved into the mountain itself, the solid rock protecting the inhabitants.

Hard to be attacked if your home was literally a mountain.

“That’s Mount Selanus, the largest mountain in Lunatis.” Prince Hoseok noted, peering out of the window to look up at the remarkable peak. Blue-grey stone was dotted with trees along the base before becoming barren rock as it reached into the sky while pure white snow rested atop the crest. It was beautiful.

“It’s impressive. And a good defense, they’ve built their homes into the mountain itself.” Jimin notes idly, causing you to feel pride at the fact you had noticed that too. The prince consort nods slowly, his eyes scanning the surroundings slowly.

“Yes, clever. That mountain is important to them too, I don’t remember the story properly. Something about it being a great wolf god who tried to reach the moon goddess but failed. I believe there’s some kind of pilgrimage every year from all the wolf pack’s who travel here to celebrate it.” He murmurs before shifting back in his seat and running his palms down the front of his jacket.

Your prince consort was no longer wearing his regal attire and had long since swapped it for more temperature appropriate gear. He’d claimed that it was because it was better to fit in with your host, as otherwise it could look like you were trying to be superior to them.

As such, his jacket was tailor made to cope with the colder weather while the outside retained characteristics that portrayed his loyalty to both Sanguinus and Hekatalia. Black with a subtle red accent was his overall colour scheme with silver buttons and fasteners. Prince Hoseok looked suitably regal while still observing the local fashions of the Lunatus.

Finally, the carriage came to a halt for the last time in this trip. You were finally here, the very heart of the werewolf lands and suddenly more nervous than ever. Jimin had coached you extensively on how to act around them, but what if you did something wrong?

The werewolves and the witches had never really had any truly bad blood between them, merely annoyances when the Sanguinati and witch conflicts had spilled into their lands. But still, they were often ruled by an animal instinct in a way that no other magical race was.

After checking over Prince Hoseok quickly, you exited the carriage first with the help of one of the Hekatalian soldiers who had travelled with you. The small retinue was already removing the Prince’s luggage and you eyed it carefully as they were directed by a Lunatus woman to head further into the mountain compound.

Stable boys were already quickly taking the horses from the soldiers who had ridden while others were removing the carriage horses, the tired animals being led away in the direction of the stables where they would be brushed down and cared for during your time here. It made you wonder how they would move the carriages without horses, but you supposed that was an issue for someone who wasn’t you.

The air smelled remarkably fresh here, to say that it was in the middle of a city. A small city yes, it had only taken around fifteen minutes to move from the outskirts to here, but it was a city all the same. In Hekatalia, that would mean the smell of rubbish, sewage, bodies and heat.

Here however, you scented pine and earth alongside the simple smell of the open outdoors. Indescribable, yet instantly recognisable. Perhaps it was due to the close proximity of the mountain and the surrounding forest; even from here you could easily see the towering tops of the striking trees.

The werewolves may live together in civility, but they were never far from the wilderness. You found that fitting, and this small city, strange to you, felt oddly homely to say that you had never been here before. But you liked it all the same.

“Good evening Prince Hoseok. I trust your journey was safe and well?” A low voice rolls out to your side, the owner appearing while you had been busy staring at your new surroundings. Turning, you note the newcomer through steady eyes with interest.

He stands shorter than the Prince, around the same height as Jimin it would seem. And unlike the other two, he doesn’t stand with a regal bearing. Instead, he almost slouches in front of them with his hands in the pockets of his brown leather trousers, thick black boots on his feet kicking the floor lazily and causing plumes of pale dust to fly.

A brown linen shirt covers his chest, laces stringing together a gap along the top but even these are left undone to dangle down. His coat is long, reaching down to his knees and is an intriguing mix of dark brown leather, aged until it almost looks like it could crack with a mere movement, while the inside is lined with thick, warm fur.

He looks slim beneath his large clothes, almost like he could be frail, but you have no doubt that he could likely kill you with the barest amount of effort. Given where you are, this man is most likely a werewolf.

It’s only when he glances over to you that you know your suspicions are confirmed. His hair is an ashy-grey, almost silver before shifting to a colour that looks almost dark blue as the light moves through the soft strands. Wolf grey, you think to yourself. His skin is paler than Prince Hoseok’s, still golden but more along the lines of Jimin’s but it’s his eyes that truly give him away.

For a moment, they are simply dark before they flash a vivid amber for a second as they scan you over. A blink, and they’re back to their original dark shade once more. Yes, a wolf to be sure.

“Prince Yoongi. What an honour to have you meet us here.” Prince Hoseok states airily, giving the slightest bow to the man. Your eyes widen momentarily, scanning over the new prince quickly with a confused look. He does wear what you would presume a prince to wear, nor does he stand like he has had any training.

Sure enough, his eyes roll while a despondent breath leaves him. “You’re impossible. You know we don’t have royalty here. You’re the only prince in Lunatis right now.”

Prince Hoseok chuckles, his hand coming to rest on Yoongi’s shoulder lightly as he nods and walks alongside him. You begin to follow, Jimin stepping into line with you before giving you a light shrug in response to your questioning glance.

“True, but I know it annoys you. Which is why I do it. How have you been? My Queen sends her condolences for not being able to travel; you know the story.” Yoongi lets out a low hum, nodding as he strides through the open courtyard towards the entrance of the large building.

It’s a barren courtyard, with stone upon stone upon stone. The only things of note are the beautiful wolf statues that litter the area, standing guard at each entrance and exit. Each one stands taller than you, with the details lovingly sculpted until they look like they could come to life and savage anyone wishing ill harm.

“Thank you. I’m fine. And I don’t think anyone expects her to leave her kingdom honestly. How is she? You have a child now, I believe, a little girl correct?” You can’t tell if the question is just idle chatter or if they are actually friends. Prince Hoseok seems to be very relaxed around him, which is at odds with the centuries old fear and rivalry the two races have had.

But then again, he never misses a chance to wax poetic about his little girl. Sure enough, you see a dreamy look appear on his face as a dopey smile appears. “I do. Soo-Ah. She’s perfect. So tiny.”

You almost expect Yoongi to tease him at that, the way Prince Hoseok’s voice softens and fills with a love that makes your chest ache. Instead, he smiles and pats the Sanguinati on the back. “Fatherhood suits you apparently. I wish her many moons and an easy childhood for your Queen and you.”

“Are they friends?” You whisper to Jimin, confusion threaded through your voice and evident in your body language from the tip to your brow. The Keeper of Words smiled slightly, eyes narrowing as the movement made his cheeks rounder and softer before nodding.

“In a fashion. It’s because of Min Yoongi that Hoseok got the courage to petition the Faerie Queen. We owe our royalty’s happiness to him, and despite their differences I believe them to be friends. Or as close as friends that as Sanguinati and a werewolf can be.” At that, Yoongi turns around with a brow raised at you both.

“I can hear you. And no doubt your prince can hear you too.” Prince Hoseok laughs before gesturing to you both.

“They mean no insult, I think they just forget the advanced hearing of other races. This is Park Jimin, our Keeper of Words who has accompanied me to keep note of our meetings and arrangements. And this is my personal attendant. She normally resides in the palace the majority of the time but my normal travelling attendant is unable to accompany me.” You bow slightly to Yoongi, unsure of what the protocol is for him. Or what he even is. “This is her first time in Lunatis. I believe she is suitably impressed by your beautiful nature.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond for a moment, simply letting his eyes track you up and down until you almost feel naked before him. A silly thought of course, as your hands touch the fabric of your heavy dress while your ribs push at the bones of the corset. And yet...he watches you like you’re his prey.

A disconcerting thought given he is very much a predator.

The moment is gone suddenly when he gives a polite smile, nodding his head. “I welcome you to Lunatis then. It is a beautiful country, if rugged and harsh. I hope it lives up to your expectations.”

As he scans you over once more before turning around, you can’t help but wonder what he thinks your expectations are. For that moment, you’re not even sure what your own are anymore.

A feast was given that night by your hosts, in honour of their royal guest who represented two nations. Delicious food that filled your stomach was brought in continuously; crisp roast chicken cooked with garlic and thyme, butter soaked carrots and parsnips, rich beef stew with hearty onions, potatoes and more than a splash of luscious red wine, seared pork chops coated in honey and mint, a leek and potato soup so creamy the serving spoon almost stood up in it and more.

It was a feast of the kind that you’d never truly witnessed before, the foods all homey and rich in flavour but with nothing too outrageous or exotic. No lemon soaked chicken, no orange drenched beef or anything that would be common in Hekatalia.

This didn’t surprise you though. Where would the wolves grow summer fruits such as that in their cold homelands? The Lunatus pack made their home in the northern reaches of Lunatis, deep in the mountain ranges and far from the mild lands of Hekatalia, the Sídhe or Orkana; the traditional home of tasty fruit and spices that sung of summer and spring.

Instead, the sweet foods that dotted these tables were a mix of decadent baked goods and cold resistant fruits. Luscious cakes with dense sponge layered in sweet buttercream frosting and dotted with apple slices, succulent liquor soaked cherries baked into pies with golden and crisp shells.

Everything was beautiful and made your tongue sing in delight, leading to you deciding that you would most definitely have to assess your own internal prejudices towards the werewolves. The absence of knowledge about them has resulted in a vacuum filled with terrible stereotypes, of which you would fully admit to believing.

You had been convinced that the food here would be basic, heavy on the meat with not much taste. Instead, you had found a veritable bounty of delicious food and even a few that you would happily beg the recipe for the cook's back in Hekatalia.

Jimin, beside you, had been most amused by your quiet yet lustful groans of delight as the flavours had burst on your tongue frequently. It had only been after five minutes of this that you had realised why, when many young male members of the Lunatus Pack had been staring at you with wide eyes.

Yoongi, further down the table, had simply looked amused while Prince Hoseok had laughed quietly to himself.

At least you were appreciating the food and not turning your nose up!

“Why do I get the feeling that people are surprised I’m eating?” The Prince asked his host towards the end, an elegant brow raising as he takes a sip of the strong ale from his goblet. You’re pretty sure it’s iron, but maybe it’s actually silver. Though weren’t werewolves supposed to be allergic to silver?

You didn’t know, though you would most certainly be querying Jimin to find out more after the meal had ended.

Yoongi lets out a low chuckle, spearing a piece of chicken before placing it into his mouth and chewing slowly. “Because they are. It has been a long time since your last visit, almost twenty years I believe, and many in this room have never seen your face. You are the only Sanguinati that we have seen in years and the stereotypes are still strong amongst the people. Not only that, you’re the Cursed Prince. That always gets you looks, as I’m sure you know.”

Prince Hoseok sighed deeply, taking a slice of apple from atop a cake and chewing on it. “Yes, the novel Prince. It’s always amusing to gaze upon someone else’s misfortune. And they are aware that I only drink blood, I don’t entirely rely on it?”

“Oh they know, but I’m sure it’s the same as your attendant over there being surprised that we eat things other than meat,” He gestures to you idly, causing your cheeks to heat as you squeak an apology. “Just ignorance that can be rectified once they are shown. And I believe you came out pretty well with this curse, correct? A wife that you love dearly and a much beloved daughter. There are other cursed beings who would give much for that.”

Your Prince nods sagely before sighing, running a hand down his face. He looks tired, which you have no doubt that he is after the weeks of travel. “Yes, I believe I did. But you must remember that everything good comes with a price for us.”

He stands at that, giving a slight nod of his head while Yoongi stands as well. Almost immediately Jimin and you follow, protocol stipulating that you follow your Prince’s movements. And he clearly means to retire for the night, for which you will be needed.

“What price is that? You will be king of Sanguinus one day; your wife is Queen of Hekatalia. Your daughter will rule both the vampires and witches, uniting them both.” Yoongi brow creases in confusion and you sighed sadly, glancing at Jimin who looks just as awkward.

Princess Soo-Ah was much beloved and she had been dearly desired by her parents. But everyone in the kingdom knew the cost to them. It was perhaps understandable that Yoongi did not know or understand, the curse was merely a story for the Lupine nation.

For Hekatalia and Sanguinus, it was their life.

“My daughter will never rule either nation. Our curse states that are our lands and people are directly tied to our lives. I will be king, she will be queen. Our lands will never know another leader, for we are cursed to immortality.” The werewolf still looks perplexed, and you can see his expression mirrored in those wolves who can overhear the conversation with the Prince.

Jimin takes pity on his ruler, and someone he has come to call a friend over the years as well, and informs Yoongi of what Prince Hoseok cannot manage to say. “Prince Hoseok and the Queen are cursed to immortality. Their children are not.”

Your Prince makes his excuses then and leaves, following one of the Lunatus maids as she directs him to his room. You follow behind quickly, glancing back at Yoongi to see the stunned look on his face. It’s almost enough to make you feel sorry for him, for the inevitable guilt he is likely feeling right now.

But there’s nothing to be done for it now.

Instead, you simply help Prince Hoseok to undress before leaving him to bathe in the warm water that has been drawn for him. He promises that he will be fine dressing in his bed clothes and bids you a good night as well, smiling softly as you rest a hand against his arm in a silent message of sorrow and strength.

Your own room is next to his for convenience, though you note it to be much smaller. Understandable obviously, given who he is and who you are. There’s no bath waiting for you though, so you leave to find a passing maid and ask where you can clean yourself as well.

She directs you to the closest bath house, located past a small garden that sits exposed to the world in a tiny courtyard. There’s not a lot here, but the ground has been turned and layered in dirt to allow sparse grass to grow along with a few carefully trimmed trees and colourful flowers.

A stone bench sits in the centre, looking slightly inconspicuous but you note that it once more carries the beautiful craftsmanship of the stone wolves outside. Combined with the awe inspiring compound, house, palace or whatever this place was called being carved into the mountain itself, you were positive that Lunatis contained some of the best stonemasons in the world.

Running your fingers along the edge of the bench, you crouch down to take in the detailed scene that plays out along the sides before spilling onto the back. It’s a series of wolves, painstakingly created until it looks like they could bound into the grass itself, leaping before they slowly begin to shift into half-man creatures before walking and running like the men and women they appear today.

An incredibly simple, and perhaps bastardised, tale of how the werewolves became as they are today maybe?

Either way, it was stunningly beautiful and you can’t help but admire it for a few moments.

“It’s not our history, if that’s what you’re wondering.” You can’t help the squeak that escapes you, jerking sideways before falling into the grass. It feels cold, the ground beneath almost freezing and you shiver beneath your thick fur coat.

Looking up, you sight the tall and lean figure of Min Yoongi before he crouches down with concern on his face. His hands hesitate over you for a moment before he’s gently pulling you up and looking you over.

“My apologies, I did not mean to scare you. I forget that witches cannot hear like we do.” His lips pursed slightly in a pout that looks far more adorable than you think he intends it to, and suddenly his foreboding image disappears. Gesturing to the bench, you sit upon the cold stone and watch as he sits next to you.

There is no ceiling in their garden, and instead you stare up with wide eyes at the awe-inspiring sight before you. Mount Selanus looms astonishingly tall above you, the wide and expansive base glowed a soft orange from the light of nearby fires before seeping into a deep black that blots out the stars.

And what a field of stars it is.

You see plenty of them in Hekatalia of course, but today it’s a pure expanse of tiny pinpricks of light that glitter and dot the surface. As if someone has taken a handful of sugar crystals and carelessly thrown them across the sky.

“You’re at one of the highest points in the whole continent here. We have more stars than anywhere else and Mount Selanus reaches higher than any other mountain.” Yoongi’s voice is soft, the syllables quiet and you find yourself curious as you stare at the large mass of stone and rock.

“Prince Hoseok said that you have a story about it. Something about a wolf god and the moon goddess?” The question you ask is implicit, even if you do not actually voice it out loud. His lips turn up slightly as you glance at him before he acquiesces to you.

“In our folk tales, Selanus was the first of us. In the beginning we were simply wolves, who ran across Lunatis on four legs in our great packs and hunted anything that came in our way. But then one day, Selanus looked into the night sky and instead of the thousands of stars he normally saw, he saw Lunarias, the goddess of the moon. Her face was pale and bright, lighting up the night and letting him see far beyond what he normally could. For years he would wait for her to brighten the dark skies and over time, he fell in love with the beautiful goddess.” Yoongi pauses for a moment, running his fingers over his chin before smiling.

“I mean, how could you not? The moon is beautiful on a dark night, and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He would howl his love to her, as loud as he could, and she heard his cries of passion even from so far away. She would burn brighter for him, night after night to guide his way. But he was a wolf, and she had the form of a goddess, of a woman. And so he begged and pleaded with her. She acquiesced, and made bargains and pleas with the other gods to let her love take on the shape of a man. For then she could love him as an equal.” You were entirely enraptured by the story, imagining the ancient beings in such a passionate love, their story painting itself across your mind.

“They agreed, and Selanus was given the power to shift to a man. But the gods are fickle, and nothing comes without a price. Their price was that Selanus must forever be a wolf on the night the Lunarias’ power was strongest, her face the most beautiful. And Lunarias was banned from the Earth, forbidden to show her face at its full strength except for three days each month.”

You frown at that in confusion, looking up at Mount Selanus. “But..that means they couldn’t be together? And they did that to be together...right?”

Yoongi nods. “Yes. When Selanus was allowed to be a man, Lunarias was mostly gone with only glimpses given. When she was allowed to face her love, he was relegated to a wolf. She was forced to watch over him from above and the power she had given him meant she couldn’t fight it.”

“That’s terrible.” You whisper softly, looking down at your hands sadly. It may only be a folktale, but stories like this were important to your people and you could tell that this story held great importance to the werewolves.

“Yes, it is. Selanus was despondent with loss and Lunarias cried tears of pain that never reached the ground. He decided that he wanted to be with her forever, and he found the highest peak in the world with the conviction that if he could climb it, then he could reach his love. He climbed to the top of this mountain, but his love was still out of reach. His heart ache over it caused him to curl up at the top, where he eventually turned to stone under the watchful gaze of his beloved.” Yoongi lets out a soft laugh before shaking his head with a wry, almost embarrassed, smile. “I’m not the best storyteller, my grandmother tells it better than me.”

“No, no. We revere stories in Hekatalia. Oral history is important to us as so many of our spells comes from tradition. Thank you for telling me. It’s beautiful, if sad.” The night is quiet around you both, the smell of the earlier feast slowly dancing to your nose before passing by on a cold breeze.

“It’s just a story. I doubt that’s how the werewolves actually came about. But it gives us a reason as to why we have to take wolf form every full moon. Our actual history is lost to time but there is a statue of Selanus and Lunarias carved into the peak of the mountain by a generation long lost. It’s considered an honour to take a pilgrimage there.” He pauses for a moment, chewing on his lip carefully before sighing deeply. “About earlier...I did not mean to upset Prince Hoseok like that. I did not know, or think. The curse is just some story to us unfortunately, just like Selanus and Lunarias.”

You let out a deep breath of your own, stroking the soft grey fur of your coat. “I understand. But you must remember that it’s his life. He refuses to think about it. Princess Soo-Ah will live a few centuries at least and he takes consolation in that.”

“But why have a child if you know that one day you will bury them?” He sounds confused and you look at him with a raised brow, causing his cheeks to redden in the dim lighting of the nearby torches. “I’m sorry. Children are important in Lunatis, family is pack and pack is family. The very idea of having children that you will have to bury every time...it’s anathema to everything a wolf is.”

“Again, I understand but...think of it from their point of view. Everyone they know and love right now will die. And they will live. And the people they grow to love afterwards will die. And they will live. And the cycle will continue forever. Is it selfish? Yes. But they have so much love to give and none of us begrudge them the chance to have a family, to give that love to someone. Princess Soo-Ah will one day have children, and they will watch over them and so forth. I don’t envy them their position, and I don’t think anyone who does not have to go through what they will should judge their choices. They only have each other for the rest of time. They’re such good parents too, it would be such a waste.” The words you speak are truthful and you feel an ache in your chest at the idea of having to live forever and watch everyone you love die.

The silence falls once more for a few minutes, neither of you willing to say anything as you both absorb what you have explained. You can practically feel Yoongi turning it over in his head.

“I did not think. I don’t think anyone has. Is he a good father? He seemed happy earlier?” You smile at that, lips turning up as you remember the many times that you have walked in on him with his daughter, sometimes with his wife alongside him.

“He dotes on her. It’s well known in the kingdom that our Prince is completely smitten,” Yoongi smiles and laughs, shaking his head slightly. The poor lighting makes him look even more handsome oddly, and you watch his profile in the flickering light of a nearby sconce while curiosity bubbles in you once more. “If you’re not a prince, then what are you? I don’t really understand the structure of your...pack?”

The werewolf hums quietly, eyes flicking around the place as he chews on his lip while thinking of a way to explain his home. “My father is Alpha of the Lunatus Pack. That’s the equivalent of your Queen, only it is not inherited. Only the strongest take up the mantle of Alpha. Beneath him are his ten Beta’s, who give him advice and help him to run his pack. The Lunatus Pack is the largest and most powerful in Lunatis, which makes him the de facto leader of our nation which is made up of six packs. The five Omegas in our pack each lead a different area of society such as healing, the arts, education and so forth.”

“And you? What are you then? Everyone seems to defer to you here? I apologise if I overstep my boundaries, please tell me if I do. I’m just...curious.” You worry, concerned that you are asking too much of someone who you shouldn’t even be talking to. It’s an odd position to be in, being so close to one of the dual leaders of your own nation yet being only their attendant.

There’s every chance that Yoongi could become offended. But instead, he just gives you a sweet smile as his eyes flash that wolf amber once more.

“No, please. It’s fine. You’re a guest here too, and Prince Hoseok evidently trusts you. We have trials here, to judge the next Alpha apparent to see who will be the one to lead our nation once the Alpha retires or dies. I am the Alpha apparent.” He looks a little meek to be admitting that, and you let your eyes run over him once more.

“So...you’re important then? The Princess Soo-Ah of Lunatus?” A snort is your response, along with an eye roll.

“I guess so. But I’m not a prince. I’m not anything yet. I just stay with my father and learn what he does, because one day that will be me. The unfortunate fact of being born too strong to be anything else.”

“Oh...how ever will you cope.” Your words come out far more teasing than you intended, particularly for a mere personal attendant and almost immediately you bow your head in response while mumbling an apology. He merely waves a hand at you, uncaring of your faux pas and you wonder at the culture of the Lunatus Pack.

Were his own maids allowed to speak to him so casually? Although, you were technically with the guest of honour. So maybe you were being given more freedoms than you would be otherwise.

The night quietens around you, the windows slowly going dark as people retire to their chambers for the night. You note idly that there are no light wisps here, glowing softly amongst the sparse grass. Instead, there’s simply emptiness.

No sound escapes the Grand Hall anymore, nor do any scents and you presume that the kitchen staff are merely washing up for the night before eating their own meals. That’s how it was for the help. Serve first, self last.

It would likely be no different here.

“I presume you are a witch then?” Yoongi asks softly, breaking the silence between you both. For a moment, you simply look him over once more in the gentle warm light of the nearby sconce that burns merrily on the stone wall.

He looks almost soft, with his silvery-ash hair burning a pretty orange from the fire while his skin almost appears warm to the touch. Lips glisten as his tongue runs along them while his fingers trace along the stone bench slowly.

His chosen outfit for the dinner meant he wore less clothing than when he had greeted you all, but it still bore the distinct look of the astonishing wilderness that surrounds you. Supple leather that had been dyed so dark it was almost black clung to his legs while he also wore a shirt of clean white. It had buttons all along the front, each one an intricate piece of ironwork with the sigil of a wolf’s head howling.

For his venture outside, he had donned a black coat, the leather creaking pleasantly as he moved while the thick fur on the inside kept him warm. It pleased you to see that even the werewolves needed to remain warm in this cold place, even if he appeared far more content with the ambient temperature than you did.

“Yes. Isn’t that what Hekatalia is famous for?” Your smile kicks up slightly as you run your fingers along the pleasing fabric of your skirts. A lot of the women here seemed to favour trousers of leather or fur much like the men, and you wonder for a moment if women are allowed into their hierarchies as well.

“True, but it doesn’t mean everyone is capable of doing magic right? We have people who are born and cannot shift into their wolf. Instead, they are stuck in the body of a human.” Turning, you place a leg over your knee daintily as your brow creases.

“Isn’t that bad though? Do your people curse them for that? I would have thought it would be...well embarrassing or something.” You try hard to keep your tone neutral, afraid of offending him in some way but he simply smiles and turns towards you as well, drawing a leg up underneath him on the bench.

“No. I mean...it’s tragic yes, because everyone should have the chance to let their wolf free and run wild as our ancestors did. But we don’t judge them any worse for it. Lunarias makes them nowol’s for a reason. We don’t know what that is, but everything is done for a reason. Besides...why be cruel when they already have to live with their wolf trying to claw free?” At your confused look, he lets out a quiet laugh. “Nowol is what we call those who can’t shift. It’s just a shortened version of no wolf, because their wolf will never be heard.”

“That sounds...awful. I mean no offence when I say that but...I can’t imagine not being able to use my magic. Everyone born of a witch line can use it. Princess Soo-Ah will be able to use it, though it is unlikely that she would be powerful enough to act as a medium of power to the Ancient Oak given the Sanguinati in her. But she will still be able to wield magic of a far greater strength than anyone else.” The wolf heir looks confused at this, his face scrunching up almost adorably until you laugh.

Gesturing in front of you, tiny balls of light appear and begin to glow an ethereal blue-white in the darkness. Yoongi’s eyes widen as they form the shape of a tree, its branches overflowing while a tiny figure stands next to it.

“Magic exists in the world freely, but it is strongest in Hekatalia because there are more Sources there than anywhere else. The Ancient Oak in the Sacred Grove sustains most of the palace and city alone. We believe that these Sources exist as a way for magic to be channelled efficiently, to stop too much power coming at once and keeping a healthy balance with the land. The magic runs through the Sources before diverting through our Queen, and through her we all get a piece. If she was not there, then it would run rampant and wild, too much for us to comprehend. Magic would go haywire.” His mouth is open, the pink interior just visible to you as tiny balls of light filter from the tree to the figure and then back out.

“Like a dam? Your Queen makes it more manageable?” You nod with a smile. “That makes sense. Are you powerful then?”

“I have never been asked to join any of the Great Guilds. Not the Alchemists or the Pyromancers, the Healers or the Warriors, the Potion Masters or the Astronomers. My magic is small and if it was not for the fact that my cousin is Captain of the Guard then I would likely be working the fields with my parents.”

Yoongi watches the lights before they sputter and fizzle out of existence, his face falling slightly as darkness overwhelms once more. “I remember him. Jeon Jungkook right? Big, surprisingly muscular for a witch.”

“Don’t tell him that. He won’t be sure whether to be proud or take offence.” You titter, letting your hand rest against your mouth as you take note of the silver ring that glints on his finger. It too has a wolf’s head engraved in it.

“Witches are connected to the earth right? So can you make proper grass grow here? And not this grass that reminds me of the Deadlands?” He asks, pointing to the sparse and sad looking grass that dots the area in clumps. Attempts have evidently been made to make the earth it grows in rich, but he’s very right in that it reminds you more of the corpse grass that grows wild in the Deadlands to the west of Lunatis and north of Sanguinus.

You only know what it looks like because you have seen specimens grown in the experimental garden in the castle. It’s long and thick, the blades sharp and pale of all colour. There’s no wonder as to how it got its name.

“Well...I’m not the Queen and we are far away from a Source at the moment. It feels like we’re at least one hundred miles from the closest which means the magic here in your forests is wild and harder to control. On top of that...we are on a mountain and that is stone which seems to have...bound the magic almost? The earth cries but is muffled by rock.” But you have the urge to impress him, to make that sweet gummy smile you had seen at the feast come back to life.

You want to see his eyes flash that molten gold once more while he watches you, with the knowledge that it was caused by you and you alone. The thought of that makes you pause for a moment, a tiny frown creasing your brow before you shake your head.

It’s just because you never get to show off your powers. They’re nothing special, and living in a country of people far more talented than you...why would you need to show it off?

Kneeling down from the bench, you can’t help but grimace slightly as the earth presses against your knees beneath the layers of your dress. There’s little wonder that the grass is so coarse and hardy given that the dirt feels like it is made of purely small stones.

You try to ignore the small pinpricks of pain that radiates from the sharp ground, instead leaning forward to rest your hands against the frozen, hard floor. Closing your eyes, your breath leaves you in a long and slow exhale as you call to the magic that lies deep within the earth.

Your queen would probably be able to do this without even touching the ground, without even calling that hard. Even this far north, in this land of great stone where magic had run rampant and wild for millennia before sinking into the Sources that dot the continent.

But you do not have her power, and sweat begins to dot your brow as you call and call. Magic is an intrinsic part of you, as easy to use and wield as it is to write a letter but connecting to something that has been hidden, that has slumbered for so long is hard.

After a few minutes of silence, you have no doubt that Yoongi is probably wondering what the hell you’re doing on the floor but he seems to be too polite to question you outright, you finally feel a flicker responding to you.

Reaching for it, you grasp it desperately and twine your magic through it slowly and gently. It’s a small flame in comparison to the warm, ever burning fire of Hekatalia, but it’s fire and power all the same. Weak and unsure, struggling to reach you as you gently tug it forth through the heavy stone that blocks its way.

The magic follows the path you trail, slipping through tiny cracks that widen as it pushes through and moving the earth as it comes to you like a willful puppy. “That’s right,” You whisper softly, smiling to yourself as you encourage it to stay with it. “Come to me. Bring life to this barren garden.”

Images of what you imagine leave your mind and travel down the tremulous link you have and the magic sparks in response, zipping after you faster until it finally reaches your hands. For a moment, the skin burns before the magic calms down beneath you, soothing the hurts and spreading out across the ground.

The next few minutes are a flurry of energy that sparks and crackles in the air, the hairs on your arms rising as the air becomes electric. Hard stones beneath your palms smooth out before disintegrating and when you open your eyes to look, you smile at the rich, dark soil that cushions you.

But then you notice everything else and your eyes widen in shock. The few flowers that had been there are now overflowing with an abundance of vivid and bright colours; species that hadn’t even been present and are sure to die in the cold weather this far north.

Smuggler’s ivy creeps across every wall, crawling upwards on the buildings and dropping over the edge of the walls while a tree sapling dances in the soft breeze that blows through. From the color of the bark and the leaves, you estimate it to be a witchling tree which causes you to lean back in even more confusion.

Witchling trees only grow in Hekatalia, their bark soaking up wild magic until they are pure white. Their leaves often end up a rainbow of colours, ranging from dark purple through to maroon through to brilliant azure and a hundred shades inbetween. It was a common witch tale that no witchling tree was the same, and they had never been found outside of Hekatalia.

Until now it would seem.

“Err….I thought you said you weren’t powerful?” Yoongi asks from the bench, looking around with eyes so wide that you can see the whites even from here. He stands before crouching down, running his fingers through the silk soft strands of rich green grass before moving over to the tree. “What is this? I think I remember these when I visited Hekatalia last?”

You send a small pulse of thanks to the magic, a little concerned at how strong it suddenly feels whereas before you hadn’t even been able to feel a whisper unless you concentrated. The magic flares in response, tugging at your feet almost childishly and you wince as the tree suddenly grows another foot.

It’s taller than you both now, with the tiny leaves glimmering in shades ranging from rich gold to burnished copper, a few glinting with striking silver inbetween them all. It would appear this witchling tree has taken on the colours of the land it inhabits, with its range of shades representing the colours of the wolf furs that run rampant.

“I...er...well...I’m not. This...I can’t even make flowers grow in Hekatalia. The magic is too refined, too tame there for me to do much of anything with it. Lunatis is too...rocky and barren, at least that’s what I thought. I thought I was just catching a tiny sliver of the magic that slumbers far beneath us, to make the grass grow a little smoother and softer.” Yoongi laughs as he runs his finger down the witchling, turning to you with a bright smile.

“Well...it looks like you did that and more. This is an actual garden now. I’ve never even seen some of these things. What is this? How did it get here?” He asks, reaching up to stroke one of the amber leaves. It reminds you of his eyes when they shift.

“It’s a witchling, and it shouldn’t be here. They only grow in Hekatalia because of the abundance of magic there. The Fae have a similar tree species only theirs looks more like an oak and the leaves are simply purple. Witchling trees are never the same. I...don’t know. I’ll ask Jimin, he’ll know more.” Your voice tails off, hands twisting as nerves take over.

Yoongi seems to be able to tell, his nose twitching with a few deep inhalations before he gestures for you to move ahead of him. You do so quietly, heading towards the bathhouse you had initially intended to enter before becoming sidetracked.

“Well...it’s pretty that’s for sure. If that’s what someone with no real magical skill can do, then I never want to meet your queen in combat. I can see now why Hekatalia has never been conquered despite its indefensible position.” Laughing slightly, you nod your head.

“She is far more powerful, yes. Though I think you’d need to worry about Prince Hoseok first. I’m sorry if...people don’t like that.” You point to the now overflowing garden but he shakes his head while bringing a hand to rest on your shoulder lightly. It’s an innocent gesture, done thousands of times before by hundreds of people and yet you can feel the sheer heat of him through your clothing.

It seems to affect him as well, with his eyes flaring gold for a second before he coughs and shifts away from you. “Don’t worry, no one’s going to complain that we have flowers and nice grass for once. Anyway, I believe I’ve wasted enough of your time tonight. I apologise. I will see you on the morrow.”

You don’t even get a chance to say your goodbyes to him, for he turns immediately and walks away from you. Instead, you’re just left with the sounds of the night and the gentle crackling of the torch nearby.

A final glance to the garden has your head tilting once more, wondering why it had grown so rapidly and why species that shouldn’t be here look to be content. Even just the last few minutes has resulted in the witchling growing another foot, and you have suspicions that when everyone wakes in the morning they will find a fully grown tree in their midst.

You just needed to focus on not doing anything damaging in the future.

The Prince Consort is not in his rooms when you arrive the next morning to wake him, leading to you panicking momentarily and wondering if he has perhaps been kidnapped. You were not in your own lands after all, and the Prince was a race that was not well liked in this land of wolves.

But it only takes you mere minutes to find him when you rush outside to the little courtyard you had discovered the night before. He’s standing with Jimin, dressed in plain black clothing that is lined with grey fur and you wonder for a moment what your purpose is here if he’s just going to dress himself anyway.

Although he was prone to doing that sometimes back at the palace, so used to attending himself over the years.

Neither of them notice your arrival however, their gazes fixed on the small garden before them. Or what had been a small garden last night, before you’d pulled magic through the stone where there had been none before.

Sure enough, just like you’d suspected, the witchling now towered over the building; its enormous branches reaching outwards desperately towards the peak of Selanus and the skies that loomed over Lunatis. The leaves almost shimmered in the morning light as they swayed in the breeze; golds and coppers and silvers and hundreds of shades in between.

The stark white bark of the trunk stood out against everything else, leading down to the dark dirt that overflowed with emerald green grass. Flowers dotted everywhere now, pinks and purples and yellows peeking out from between the grass and even on the smuggler’s ivy that covered the walls.

“Okay...I know that I drank a little wine and ale last night, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t drink enough to misremember this courtyard.” Prince Hoseok states bluntly, confusion evident in every syllable of his voice. You cringe slightly, shuffling forward to take your place beside him.

Jimin hums lowly, his own expression a mirror reflection of Prince Hoseok’s. “No, you’re right. This was not like this last night. I know that for a fact...because that’s a witchling. And they do not grow here. Something happened.”

“Like what? What makes a whole tree appear? And...all this?” His hand waved towards everything and you eyed Prince Hoseok, wondering if he would be angry at what you’d done. You should have known that Jimin would be able to tell what went wrong.

“Well...last night there was no magic here. It was as barren magically as it looked in terms of plant life. Now...now there is magic here. Seeping from a tiny crack in the ground. The witchling is absorbing most of it, but the bits that are escaping are causing everything else to grow. I have a suspicion that in a month’s time, when you walk the streets outside that they too will be covered in vibrant colours.” You want the earth to open up and swallow you at that, to ask the magic to take it and disappear back to where it came from.

But you can’t, because that’s not how magic works.

“Is that...going to be a problem? We came here for diplomatic reasons, to negotiate trade. Instead, we’ve apparently decide to send their city to the whims of nature. Will they be offended over that?” Prince Hoseok’s voice is decidedly concerned and your veins turn to ice, wondering if perhaps the Lunatus Pack will take this badly.

“Fear not Prince Hoseok, if anything we will welcome the beautiful nature. It’s hard to find fragile nature this pretty so far in the mountains. And I believe it may allow us to plant crops that are will not grow in our normal stony soil. Besides...it was my fault. I asked your lovely attendant to show me some magic and it appears the magic hidden beneath our land really wants to be free.” Yoongi’s voice is soft and calm as he approaches, his grey hair soft while his mouth quirks up slightly.

At his words though, Prince Hoseok and Jimin both turn and look at you with incredulous gazes. Jimin is the first to speak though, pointing out towards the garden. “You did this? I thought you had no real skill of note?”

He doesn’t mean the words to be offending or insulting, nor do you take them that way. Jimin speaks the truth, and you can understand why they are both confused. “I don’t. It was hard to feel anything but I found a sliver that responded to me. All I did was just...encourage it up. It would seem there’s a well under the Lunatus Pack lands that has been stifled by the mountains. Now it’s free. My apologies for anything that happens, I am not skilled with this.”

Jimin sighs softly, rubbing at his nose before looking back up at the overflowing garden. “I can stem the breach slightly. Magic will still flow but at a much slower pace. Ideally, you’d have a witch here who would be able to weave the magic and make use of it before it goes wild but I’m afraid you’ll just have to get used to the witchling. It will absorb the excess magic for you.”

“I think we’ll be okay with that. It’s possibly the most beautiful tree I’ve ever seen. And given that I live in the midst of a forest, in a nation of trees, that says a lot.” Prince Hoseok chuckled at Yoongi’s words, shaking his head.

“Yeah, that’s the witches. Powerful, but pretty.” He teases Jimin then, smiling as he pushes the Keeper of Words forward with more affection than might be expected.

Jimin rolls his eyes in response, looking markedly close to his ruler, but he said nothing as he instead places his focus on the task at hand. Crouching down, he looks around the area quietly before he places a hand on the ground.

There’s a moment of silence and you note Yoongi and Prince Hoseok looking at each other with raised brows, probably wondering what was going on but you can feel the weaving that Jimin is doing. Even from here, you feel the way he carefully crossed the magic over and under, over and under until it made a barrier woven entirely of itself before feeding the ending back into the ground.

It was skillful work and you half felt ashamed that you had worked magic so badly, particularly given the wonderful show you’d just experienced from the Keeper of Words. There was little surprise as to why he’d gotten to high and lofty position at such a young age.

Your shame must be written on your face as Jimin sighs quietly, standing and brushing his hands clean on his trousers before walking over to you. Resting a hand on your arm, he squeezes in reassurance and gives you a small smile.

“Don’t worry too much about it. You couldn’t have known how desperate the magic was to be released. This is a land which forced its magic underground long ago and we aren’t used to this. Don’t be hard on yourself, this would have taken all of us by surprise. Besides, it looks pretty at least.” He grins at that, gesturing towards the courtyard which now bloomed with a multitude of colours and delightful scents.

“That it does. I doubt there will be many who complain about this. We are a nature loving people.” Yoongi said, moving over to you both with that long and loping stride that gave him so much innate grace. You simply give a strained smile, hoping that he’s right and that you haven’t actually made a huge mistake here.

There could be nothing worse than going to a foreign nation to serve your Prince Consort and ending up accidentally offending said foreign nation. Perhaps you just were not made for diplomacy.

Yoongi stands surprisingly close to you, the sheer heat of him warming you even beneath your thick clothing and you look up at him in surprise. He doesn’t seem to notice his close distance and you choose not to mention it. Perhaps a nation of shape shifters who live in packs wouldn’t think anything strange about being close all the time.

You see the way Jimin’s and Prince Hoseok’s brows rise slightly and know that they’re thinking it’s strange though. You can feel your cheeks warming from the rush of blood as embarrassment curls through you and you hasten to find a way to distract them all.

“Your Highness, I believe the morning feast is available now if the smell is anything to go by. Why don’t we head inside and make sure that you break your fast to start the day well?” Hands move to gesture towards the door that leads to the hall while you give him a bright smile. The slight wideness to your eyes probably gives away your desire to no longer be the subject of attention and his lips quirk slightly before he schools his face into a mask of pleasant indifference.

Bowing his head slightly, he begins to move towards the door with Jimin in tow before glancing back towards you, the corner of his mouth tilted up. “Thank you. After last night, I’m expecting a lot from this morning meal Yoongi.”

The wolf raises a single brow in response, his face carefully neutral and you chew on your lip slightly, wondering whether to rush after Prince Hoseok or wait for Yoongi to enter. It wasn’t seemly for the help to precede their hosts, particularly when their hosts were so high up in the hierarchy.

But this wasn’t Hekatalia, and you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do. Prince Hoseok gave no help, instead looking back once more as he reached the door and giving you a bright, white smile before he disappeared within. You got the sense he was enjoying something, and you disliked the fact that you didn’t know what that was.

“Should we go ins-”

“Would you like to co-”

The both of you speak at once; words rushing over each other and silence is suddenly deafening as you stop. Grimacing slightly, you gesture for him to speak first given his superiority to you. He gives a tiny, awkward smile and bows his head in response, rubbing at his neck.

“Sorry. I, err, would you like to come with me and explore the city? I can show you around...the interesting places and…” He trails off slightly, cheeks pinkening and you frown at him in confusion, wondering why he was asking you this. “Well, I mean...if you want to.”

“Don’t you have to go with Prince Hoseok and attend the meetings? And what about the morning meal?” The words are full of confusion, soft as they fall from your lips almost unsure. You don’t understand what’s going on, yet there’s a warmth in your stomach at the thought of exploring Lykos with only Yoongi and you didn’t know why.

Yoongi’s flush deepens, his eyes shifting amber as he looks away and works at his jaw before he shakes his head slowly. “No, he’s not meeting with me. I don’t need to be there. I just thought...that you might like to see Lykos. You seemed interested in our culture last night. And I know a nice bakery nearby to break our fast on.”

Teeth nibbling at your lower lip, you hum lightly as your fingers twist and play with each other before nodding slowly. You didn’t imagine that you would get much chance to explore with how busy Jimin and Prince Hoseok would be, nor did you want to make them pander to you. But it did mean that you would have many hours of loneliness and potential boredom while waiting for something to do.

“If...if you’re positive. And that I won’t be a burden to you. Then...I would like that very much. Please.” There’s a shyness to your words that fascinates you, wondering what it was about this man that causes such a reaction in you. A sense of relief washes through you as you see his shoulders lower as he lets out a deep breath, his lips widening in a bright and gummy smile that positively lights up his handsome face.

“Excellent. That’s...great. I mean...we should go. Now...because...the bakery,” He fumbles over his words endearingly and you smile widely, wondering what’s gotten into him and why he seems so nervous suddenly. He had no problem talking with Prince Hoseok and you were merely an attendant. “I mean...yes. Let’s...let’s go.”

Without another word, he turns on his heel and strides towards another door that leads off from the courtyard, a low mumbling sound reaching your ears and you chuckle quietly as you realise that he’s grumbling to himself. It’s only when you make that sound that he freezes suddenly, shoulders stiffening before he turns around with a slight wince.

“I...it would be better if I actually took you with me I suppose. Not much of a tour if you’re not there.” He mutters, waiting quietly as you make your way over to him and follow him through the door. Eyeing his slim figure, you smile to yourself and shake your head.

Min Yoongi was an important person in the world, the heir to an important nation. And yet he was like no one you had ever met before. A contradiction of things, all fascinating and amusing and you simply could not figure him out.

This was definitely going to be one of the most interesting times of your life.

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keelywolfe · 4 years

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FIC: It's a Lovely Afternoon In Ebott (baon)

Summary: ...and Edge is going to spend it in the park with his husband. Surely nothing will go wrong!

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Humor, Fluff

~~*~~

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

“so, what do you have going on today?”

Simple words, but they immediately put Edge on guard. He knew them for what they truly were and that was a trap.

“Nothing specific,” Edge hedged. His real plan was to catch up on some paperwork. His husband’s so-called innocent smile widened, and it was as good as a snare, catching Edge against his will and holding him in because there was little that he wouldn’t do to keep that smile around a little longer. He sighed inwardly and gave into his fate, “What did you have in mind?”

“i am so glad you asked.” Stretch climbed over the arm of the sofa and clumsily sprawled into Edge’s lap, “i thought maybe we could go to the park.”

It was difficult to hold back a grimace. Normally, Edge would be more than happy to go to the park. Ebott park was a true community project; the Embassy donated regularly for everything from the flower beds to repairs. There were walking trails and a nature center that held classes for everything from bird watching to stargazing. Last year, the community contributed to the building of a fully accessible tree-house that anyone could visit, whether they were a child or only one at heart. A trip to the park made for a truly enjoyable day.

Today, however, Edge found he was reluctant. His leg was healing well, but he still wasn’t completely back on his feet and while he could bring his mobility scooter or his cane, his deepest instincts screeched against revealing such weaknesses.

Ridiculous thinking, he was already exposed from returning to work at the Embassy. As many times as his intuitions had saved him in the past, he couldn’t allow them to hold him back in this world. As Red told him before, if he wasn’t willing to adjust, then why did they bother coming up into the sunshine?

Stretch was looking up from his lap, waiting with patient hopefulness. If Edge told him he was too tired or his leg was bothering him, Stretch would accept that, and nothing would come of it but fleeting disappointment.

Instead, Edge settled a hand on Stretch’s skull, smoothing a gloved thumb over the curved bone. “What is it that has you so interested in the park?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” Stretch fumbled out his phone and held it out wrongside up, showing an upside-down photo of a lake. “according the community board, this year’s ducklings have hatched and they are on the lake as we speak. they are inviting visitors to come see the new residents and to feed the ducks.”

“Ducks,” Edge repeated slowly, drawing out the ‘s’ in a sibilant hiss. "Why would we want to feed random ducks?"

Stretch shifted in his lap, grinning, "because i'm not on a first name basis with any other ducks?"

"You have chickens."

"that is true,” Stretch agreed, “but as far as i am aware, i don't have a lake or ducks, which is why i’m having to outsource."

“There will be rules.”

“babe, i never expected anything else.”

“You will not approach the ducks any closer than feeding range,” Edge ticked each one off on a finger, “You do not pet the ducks. We will not be bringing a duck home with us nor a duckling. Nor any other incarnation or distant relation of a duck. Nothing even remotely duck-like will be joining us, period."

“we’re feeding the ducks, babe, i’m not plotting a poultry heist,” Stretch scoffed, “anything else, commandant?”

“No, thank you, and the honorific of Captain will suffice.”

~~*~~

The drive alone was an enjoyable one, the weather warm enough to put the convertible top down. Stretch sprawled out in the passenger seat, sunglasses in place and his face tilted into the breeze.

When they pulled into the parking lot, it was already lined with cars, families caravanning in with their SUVs, beleaguered parents trailing behind carrying coolers and wagons while their children ran ahead. The parking spot Edge found was far from ideal, his convertible squeezed in between a Jeep and a somewhat battered minivan with a collection of cheery stick figures decals in the back window to clarify exactly how many members were in their family, parents and children, all the way down to a vapid-looking fish.

Already Edge was picturing the dents from overeager young passengers slamming open their doors into the sides of his car and Edge grit his teeth, rounding the car to get their own cooler from the trunk. “I hope you brought some bread to feed these newsworthy ducks.”

“bread?” Stretch scoffed, only just catching himself from leaning on the car’s quarter panel. He aborted before a single bony finger touched, and possibly scratched, the glossy red paint, and crammed both hands into his short pockets instead. “bread is terrible for ducks, we can keep the carbs for french toast day. i brought frozen peas!"

Edge stopped, looking around the trunk lid at his husband. “The peas from our freezer? The ones from our garden last year that I was planning to use this weekend?”

"…no?"

“Did no one tell me that this is opposite day where no means yes?” Edge said to no one in particular, then directly back at Stretch, ”You do realize that if you try to replace any frozen garden vegetables in our freezer with some awful generic purchased from the grocery store, I will notice, don’t you.”

Stretch only breezed past him, heading into the park, and as Edge slammed the trunk shut, he almost thought he heard, “you didn’t last time.”

Straight into the park from the lot was the playground, shrieks of laughter carrying from the structure to the scattered picnic tables and pavilions. The lake was deeper in, its murky water not meant for swimming and the surrounding shaggy vegetation was cleared away around the long dock. Out in the placid water were a couple of boats, any passengers more concerned with their afternoon naps than the fishing poles in their laps.

The rest of the park was not only on another page, but an entirely different book. A glance showed the playground was overloaded with children making use of the swings and teeter-totters. There were plenty more children on and around the dock being coached by their parents to lightly toss their treats to the ducks and the tiny yellow puffs of their offspring, not hurl them. Still others ran along the lake shore, laughing and shouting, playing tag and the occasional parent towering over them offered no reprimands as they ran and shoved their way around.

That careless childish roughhousing gave Edge pause. Normally a crowd wouldn’t bother him. Well, that wasn’t precisely true, but he was able to quash his worries for the most part, particularly around the Monster children.

At this park, surrounded by so many Humans, it was difficult to stifle a protest over Stretch venturing out onto the dock. Children could be incautious, could be easily frustrated, and their parents could be easily roused by any slight, real or imagined. It would take less than most Humans would expect for them to seriously injure Stretch; Humans had so much more physicality than Monsters, their intent carried more weight. A little childish roughhousing that would mean nothing to a human child past a bit of sullen retaliation could badly hurt a Monster with low HP.

It was one of the reasons Edge’s was reluctant to bring Stretch along for his work with the YMCA. They were good children, but they were children. Better to keep Stretch away so that no one suffered any unfortunate consequences.

And therein lay a problem. Refusing to bring Stretch to the Y was his choice and one that he suspected exasperated Stretch though he never pushed. Here, he had no right to try to stifle Stretch in any way. In light of his recent rise in HP, Stretch was likely to be even more frustrated by any overprotectiveness.

Even asking Stretch to perhaps consider another time or day to indulge in his recent need to offer frozen peas to strange ducks wouldn’t go over well, might even anger Stretch, and Edge wouldn’t blame him if it did. As he so often reminded Edge, he was the older of the two of them and he’d been dealing with his low HP all his life.

Stretch knew how to take care of himself or he wouldn’t be here now, and oh, how much Edge wished he hadn’t thought that. He busied himself with setting their cooler beneath an out of the way shady tree, shaking out a blanket for them to sit on.

Stretch helped him spread out the blanket, giving the park a thoughtful glance.

“huh, pretty crowded, isn’t it,” Stretch peered at the dock, his mouth twisting, “maybe i’ll take a walk around the shoreline, see if i can find a less populated clearing.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Edge tried to keep the gratitude from his voice and thought he was mostly successful. Only mostly, since Stretch offered him a lopsided smile before ambling off in the direction of the lake with his pilfered bag of peas.

It was something of a relief to sit down on their picnic blanket, a slight grunt escaping him as he stretched out his leg in front of him. It was better, Edge reminded himself, slow as it was, every day it was getting better and even if he’d had to barter for a little illicit healing on his first day back to the Embassy, it was better since then. In fact, he should send a thank you card for the kindness, perhaps a small gift, and—

Sudden shouts made him jerk and Edge scrambled awkwardly to his feet, scanning the crowd. There were Humans running away from the lake, mostly shrieking children, their short legs churning as they ran. The long glass was rustling fiercely, parting violently and that was when he saw Stretch. At first, Stretch was all but scrambling in the air like a character in an old Scooby Doo cartoon. Once he got moving, though, he was surprisingly quick for someone who claimed to have perfected the ancient art of laziness.

Long legs carried him swiftly away and Edge, along with the rest of the park, was treated to the sight of skeleton who topped the tape measure at nearly seven feet tall sprinting frantically away from a large goose.

Edge watched mutely as Stretch scrambled up the first available tree with hardly a pause, clinging to the trunk as he came to a stop on a wide branch. The goose paused at the base of the tree, flapping its wings threateningly as it hissed up at the branches.

Well. That was…well.

There were a few options available here. Edge could head back to the car, start it up, and leave Stretch here to his new home. Perhaps Edge could move away, join the circus. Substitute knife throwing for bones, he had a deft hand, no apple would be safe from his wroth, and he’d look excellent in tight costume.

Or he could take up bank robbery, he’d read the plan that Stretch drew up for the game that he and Jeff were playing, a little classic heisting to support himself until he went down in a blaze of glory.

Or, Edge could claim Stretch as his own and be broadly painted with the same idiot brush.

As if there were truly any choice. Dreams of joining the entertainment industry or grand larceny aside, he'd chosen to hitch his wagon to Stretch’s star the moment he put a ring on his slender finger.

Edge retrieved his cane and walked over, past a group of kindhearted Humans who seemed to be attempting to come up with a rescue strategy. He kept a safe distance from the goose, who was still focused on their treebound quarry.

“What on earth are you doing?” Edge called exasperatedly, “You can use magic! You can teleport!!”

"i panicked!" Stretch said defensively. Both his long arms were wound around the trunk of the tree, clinging for dear life. His horrible sandals dangled precariously close to the goose’s snapping beak. “besides, i don’t want it to go for any of the kids!”

Of course he didn’t. His love’s soul was purest silver, but if he’d had a heart it would be made of the finest gold.

The goose was unimpressed with either. It circled the tree trunk, its beady gaze on Stretch and surely working on a new plan of attack. The Humans were still milling around in indecision.

“Should we call 911?” asked one woman, timidly.

“Naw, animal control,” one of the men put in.

“Neither,” Edge said decisively, “One moment, please.”

With a flick of his fingers, he summoned his magic, turning the goose’s (small, pulsing rapidly, crimson with determination) soul blue.

The goose hissed furiously as Edge walked over to it, showing off a disturbingly barbed tongue, but it was helpless against being picked up and tucked under one arm to be carried back to the pond. It couldn’t move but it could create a hell of a racket, honking and hissing as Edge limped his way back through the tall grass where Stretch had come from.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Edge sighed. “You can’t move, even to hurt yourself. Let’s take you back to the water.”

As he approached the lake, a sound rose up, a frantic sort of peeping. He passed through the shaggy weeds and into the clearing to find a clutter of goslings stumbling over each other on the shoreline. The peeping increased in volume as they caught sight of the goose in Edge’s arms, one enterprising little creature offered a tiny hiss of its own.

“Very good,” Edge told it approvingly. “Soon you’ll be able to threaten children and skeletons on your own.”

Edge set the goose back amongst its little ones and backed away even as the counter ticked down and the hold of blue magic eased.

The goose was disoriented at first, distrusting of its freedom. Then it swung around to glare at Edge, seeming to be trying to decide if another attempt at aggravated assault would be worth the effort.

“You can try,” Edge said calmly. He raised a hand, his magic at the ready. “but we’ll only end up here again. It’s up to you how much time you’d like to waste.”

In the end, the goose decided it had pressing business on the other side of the lake. It waddled into the water, then glided along with deceptive grace, the goslings falling into line behind it.

Edge watched to make sure it didn’t change its mind. It was a rather bemusing use of his brother’s lessons about never turning his back on a potential threat, certainly the most unusual.

When he turned back to the park, he was startled to find a crowd standing a safe distance away from him. The clapping was scattered at first and slowly grew to full blown applause, children and adults alike cheering. Even Stretch, still in his leafy perch, was clapping, although his grin all but glowed with pride. A fair sign that he wasn’t having longing fantasies about joining the circus. That made one of them.

Heat seared his cheek bones as Edge made his way through the crowd, dismally hoping that all this wasn’t about to start trending on some sort of Angel-forsaken social media post. From the way several people’s cell phones were in hand, that sad little hope was one in vain.

Edge walked purposefully away from the crowd, back to the tree and its latest occupant. He held out his arms and asked dryly, “Do you need me to catch you?”

There was a brief cool touch of void as Stretch’s slight weight was abruptly in his arms. His husband brushed a kiss against Edge’s overly warm cheek bone before he said, teasingly, “my hero.”

“You’re welcome,” Edge glanced back at the lake, “You know, I’m only familiar with a few nursery rhymes, but I never expected to meet Mother Goose in person.”

“heh, maybe she mistook me for the farmer in the dell,” Stretch squirmed loose of Edge’s arms, getting his feet under him, “c’mon, i lost the peas in the drink when mama over there tried to play a little duck duck goose with me. may as well go have lunch.”

“All right.” Edge let Stretch lead the way back to the blanket, following along behind with his cane in hand.

Their day at the park was certainly different than Edge ever could have imagined, but that was all right. The only goose Edge had on his mind now was the one he was about to pinch on his husband’s lovely backside.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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soulwitch · 3 years

Photo

“–Miss Haya.”

Why was she so embarrassed about this? It was a small thing really, nothing all that complicated. They were just chocolates made out of gratitude for all the little things she did, and how she insisted on accompanying her and helping to carry things despite her endless amount of protesting. Rubbing the back of her neck, eyes closing–She sighs exasperatedly, more towards herself than anyone in particular, and holds out a small bag of freshly made chocolates. She’d had a little bit of help from Bread’s Bakery, but overall–This was her own work.

“I’ve heard that today is also a day for giving chocolates out of gratitude, so this….is a thank you for your assistance every time I enter Werites Beacon. I appreciate it.”

Tessa’s voice is somewhat of a mumble, still quite unused to conversing for long periods of time with Orerines. It seems that regardless of that fact, Haya’s grown on her with her cheery nature and her warm smile. The idea of disliking her became quite impossible with how much she tried to help and how genuine her actions were.

“–Anyway, Happy Valentine’s Day. Try not to eat it all at once, or you’ll make yourself sick.”

“Miss Tessa!” Of course Haya’s happy to see her friend, even if the other seems at times distant, or merely short on words. Haya didn’t mind, she always liked to talk about her daily things, just to fil the air with Tessa.

But today she’d be left rather speechless, a little surprised for sure as she received this gift. Shaking a little, she’d slip closer and sort of dance around what she wanted to say or do.

“C-can I hug you back for these? I didn’t get you anything today! I wasn’t sure when I’d see you again, so I was going to bring you chocolates when I could sneak in again, I mean visit totally normally!” Haya insisted, she was nearly bouncing in place.

Surely. A hug couldn’t hurt!

#;;Haya #ardensfides #submission

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lonelypond · 4 years

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Au Yeah August: Café Quarantine, Part II

NicoMaki, Love Live, 2.7K, 2/3

Summary: Yazawa Nico's recovering from Covid-19 while she tries to learn more about her housemate, Nishikino Maki.

Café Quarantine

Nico woke up. Her head felt clearer, no headache, still so dry inside her mouth there was no saliva, and her lips were peeled and chapped. Sitting up, she was breathing easier, and the inhale of relief didn’t trigger a cascade of coughing. What time was it? She grabbed her phone. 1:25 a.m. Long past Café Quarantine time. Nico concentrated. She’d seen Maki earlier today, what had they talked about? They’d been texting more, Maki seemed to be getting friendlier, but there were no new messages on Nico’s phone.

Had Maki done a livestream? Her friend...Hana...something...Nico shook her head, details fled too quickly and new memories seemed hard to make...Maki’s friend, who was now TWIG-ing for the Café, probably wouldn’t let Maki take a night off. Consistency was key, especially in the beginning. And now everybody who could was supposed to be staying home to “flatten the curve.” Nico glanced around the large room, with a queen bed, a walk in closet, and two barrel chairs around a low table. This was a very nice place to be flattening the curve in, but Nico got a lost feeling from Maki in so many of the rooms, especially, Nico giggled, the kitchen. That triggered a cough, but the spasm was less painful. Another inhale of relief. Maki had said something about Day 6 being a turn around. Maybe Nico was on the upswing. Nico flipped on the bed, leaning into a pillow, and opening TWIG to see what Maki had done for tonight.

The first piece was instrumental. Fast, cheerful. Amazing technique. Nico didn’t know much about the piano, but Maki exuded such a sexy confidence, her fingers moving with strength and grace, not mistaking a key as she read the hand written pages of notes. And to then, Maki looked up at the camera, and suddenly, Nico got pulled in to the depths of amethyst, as Maki nearly almost didn’t smile, her voice playing all sorrow’s gentlest notes as she spoke.

“It’s a little lonely here. Maybe it’s a little lonely where you are. This is a moment of change, and we all have to think about how that happens.” Maki laughed and it made Nico’s chest feel lighter, “And when I think I don’t sleep and when I don’t sleep I think why not drink more coffee and so I can’t get this song out of my head and I’m gifting it to you.” Another laugh and then Maki’s voice, even from Nico’s phone, captured all her attention as Time paused.

“I'm feelin' mighty lonesome Haven't slept a wink I walk the floor from nine to four In between I drink Black coffee Love's a hand-me-down brew I'll never know a Sunday In this weekday room

I'm talkin to the shadow One o'clock till four And Lord, how slow the moments go And all I do is pour Black coffee Since the blues caught my eye I'm hangin' out on Monday My Sunday dreams to dry…”

Nico had this sudden urge to go find Maki, to hear if the sadness was lifted out of her voice, see if the brightness was stoked up in her eyes. But Nico was still contagious. Nico had been trying to stay isolated, complete exhaustion had helped with that, but whenever she stepped out of the room, she ran into Maki. Like magnets. And Nico didn’t want anyone else to feel like this. Or worse. Nico knew this wasn’t a bad case, but it was scary. And now Nico was hungry. Tired as she was, sleep wasn’t coming back until she ate something. Surely Maki was asleep. Nico couldn’t hear anything in the hall, so maybe.

Nico masked up. No sense in taking unnecessary risks. Decreasing the chances Maki might be exposed to the virus was important. Nico hoped Maki was sleeping and not snacking as she headed to the kitchen. Where Maki was sitting at the table. WIth a mug.

“Black coffee?” Nico asked.

Maki only jumped slightly. She must have seen Nico in her peripheral vision. The redhead had changed from the highlighting crushable curves black and lilac gown to blue pajama pants with stars and a gray Northwestern hoodie.

“Tea.”

“Are you feeling sick?”

Maki shook her head, “Just want to get some sleep.” She yawned, stretching out her arms, “it’s been a long week.”

“Seems like two.”

Maki’s lip quirked into an expression that a read amused, while not technically counting as a smile. “I know. It really does.”

“Nico will come back and raid the refrigerator when you leave.”

Maki shrugged, twirled a curl, and rose, moving to the window and opening it, “‘S ok, raid away. Can I get you anything?”

Nico shook her head, “So what was that first song.”

“It’s actually called the Coffee Song.”

“Does it have lyrics?”

Maki nodded.

“Sing it for Nico.” Nico decided on reheating a slice of sausage pizza. Maki’s favorite pizza place put fennel and basil and roasted garlic on everything and it was amazing.

Maki blushed and sipped her tea so hastily drops spilled down her chin.

Nico chuckled at the lack of verbal response, “Some other day. Hey, you talked a lot last night. Nico didn’t know you could do that.”

Maki rolled her eyes, “Pay more attention.”

Nico turned, making sure she had Maki’s full focus, “I will.”

###

Nico’s Mama’s ringtone went off as Nico was debating whether to dive under the covers for more sleep or actually get up and stretch. Grabbing the phone allowed Nico to delay the decision on exercise.

Her mom’s voice sounded cheery, “How’s my baby?

“Better, maybe. Nico’s been resting so much, if I didn’t have a window I wouldn’t have idea if it were day or night.” Nico pushed the blankets back.

“It’s morning.”

“Are you at work?”

“I’m telecommuting. Everyone in the office is. Your siblings are so happy.” Her mother paused, “Keeps them from getting upset by the bad stuff.”

“Good. I miss them.”

“They can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah, Nico’s safe once the isolation period is up and symptoms go away.”

“Are you still coughing?” Now there was her Mama, Nico smiled, the concern making her less lonely, “You haven’t been singing.”

“Nico’s been sleeping through most days, but Maki took over.” Nico decided to sit up. Easier than yesterday.

“I know, we’ve been watching. Cocoro wants a piano so she play for you.”

“The one here is so pretty.”

“So is Maki.”

“Mama.” Nico's tone warned.

A pause. “Are you getting along?”

“Nico gets along with everyone.”

“I remember you complaining about her nearly every night after her parents made her take a job in the coffeehouse.”

“There are no customers to be rude to here.”

“Is she taking care of you?”

“Nico takes care of herself.”

“Nico.” Mama wanted real answers. Nico sighed.

“Maki’s go to move is ordering this really excellent pizza. And sending Nico mp3 files of songs she’s spent the afternoon playing while Nico recuperates. If she could do it by herself, she’d probably move the piano to the hall outside Nico’s door.”

Amused. “That sounds nice.”

Nico coughed, for two minutes, her mother waiting to speak until the coughs quieted.

Sharper. “That sounds scary.”

“Nico is brave, Mama.”

“I know, baby. I love you. And I’m so proud of you.”

Nico hated the crying. Yes, it was her mama and no one else was here to see it, but any weakness was weakness.

“Thanks, Mama.” Nico whispered.

“I expect to see you next week for dinner. Bring Maki.”

“But Mama…”

“No excuses. I owe her so much more than home cooking for taking good care of my daughter.”

Nico knew she wouldn't win this argument. “Okay.”

“Good. What are you going to do today?”

“Get up and get some sun.”

“Good idea. Eat breakfast first.”

“Yes, Mama.”

Laughter on the other end of the phone, “I don’t mean to treat you like Cocoa. I just want to have you here to take care of you myself. But you’re an adult. And you have...friends who care about you.”

“Yeah. Nico’s lucky. I don’t know how I can pay Maki back.”

“Just be yourself, Nico, and you’ll figure out what you need to do.”

“Nico’s got this.”

Nico could see her mother’s serious face, with just the slightest nod to confirm Nico’s abilities. “You do.”

###

Nico was in the backyard, wrapped up in this really superwarm, superbeautiful wool blanket Maki said was made by indigenous artists working for an indigenous company. So not only superwarm but points for exploring something other than the culture handed to her on a platinum platter. Maki, for all her rudeness, had this air of kindness that Nico instinctively wanted to save from the harder edges out there in the universe. Her parents had obviously kept her in a bubble and Maki had her own bumbling, oblivious charm that would have existed bubble or no. And then she sat in front of a piano and Nico was breathless because there was nothing but confidence and mastery. Nico had worked, worked so hard, on singing and dancing and music, and Nico was sure Maki had worked hard as well, but there was this other level, this native confidence, that music was the land where Maki lived and Nico though a long term resident, had never really truly tasted the water.

Nico closed her eyes and stared up at the sun, inhaling warmth. She heard a wooden chair scraping off to her right. Maki. If Nico kept her eyes shut, maybe Maki would pretend she was alone and talk.

“So many people covered the Dylan Coffee Song. I’m not a big Dylan fan, although we could make it jazzy if you like it..."Java Jive" is fun and fast, but do you have that much energy, are you going to sing tonight, Nico, because…

“Yes, Nico was planning to do a duet with Maki. But not the Dylan song. How about “I Get No Kick?””

“That’s about champagne. I thought we were keeping themes.”

“It’s about things you can’t do without.” Nico opened an eyelid, Maki was sitting up, staring out into the yard, twisting a curl in her fingers.

“Rin wants us to do “Cow Bells and Coffee Beans." She offered to drop off or play the cow bell, preferably play.”

“What’s that song?”

“Henry Mancini did it on his ‘Mr. Lucky Goes Latin’ album. There’s a cat on the cover and a song called “The Dancing Cat” so it’s Rin’s new favorite thing.” Maki paused, “They were looking up coffee songs for me.”

Nico laughed, “That’s a good way to pick music. I have to meet these friends of yours. Why don’t you and Rin do a duet and then Nico will step in for a second song?”

“Really?” Maki spun to face Nico, “Rin would love that.”

“Nico makes people happy.” Nico waved a hand airily, “She’s dating Café Quarantine’s social media jitterbug, right?”

“Hanayo? Yeah, they’ve known each other forever, like kindergarten. I’m not even sure when they ‘officially’ starting dating, but by the time I met them in high school, they were unbearably adorkable.”

“Doesn’t sound unbearable. Just cute.”

Nico could hear Maki shuffling, “I guess.”

“So were they big into PDA?”

“PDA?”

“Public displays of affection?” Really, Maki didn’t even know that. And that was an ancient thing.

“Oh.” Maki settled back into the lounge, Nico guessed, “Some hand holding, I think. Nothing big. Hanayo’s shy.”

“The person inundating me with questions and requests for selfies and promotional pics is shy?!?!?!”

There was a pause, “She gets really really hyped about...K-pop, celebrities, and cute singers, and…”

“So Nico’s a cute singer, huh?”

No reply.

Nico had more energy, but not enough for that level of pushing a tease. Plus, leaning back with her eyes closed seemed to be inviting Maki to share more things. If Nico was going to push, maybe it should be about something else.

“So how’s the doctor thing going? Nico feels better.”

“I’m glad you feel better, but it’s not because I’d be any good as a doctor.”

“Maki’s smart…”

“I know that.”

“And you have a hospital right there…”

“Which means I should just take over, right, like my parents want me to, take over and spend all my time alone in big houses, or alone, hiding in a supply closet, crying from exhaustion. Or working with people who won’t tell me the truth because I’m their boss.”

“You always told Nico the truth, right? And Nico was your boss.”

“I’m different. You’re different”

It was neither modesty or bravado, Nico had noticed. Maki just stated things that she thought were true. And if she thought they were true, they must be fact.

“Money makes people careful.” Maki said. “That’s the polite version of what my father always says.”

“What’s the impolite?”

“Crawling cowards.”

Nico snorted, “That wouldn’t make any friends.”

Maki sat up, “But it does. You can say anything.”

“Not to Nico.”

“No.” Maki sighed, “And my parents respect you for that.”

“You’re avoiding Nico’s question.”

“I am.” Maki stood up, “If I’m going to duet with Rin, we’ll have to practice. I ordered lasagna for lunch, I’ll leave yours on the table.”

“Do you have Italian sauces in your veins?”

A laugh so light and cute, Nico was forced to open her eyes. Maki was glowing, the sun halo behind her head both blinding Nico and tinting the edges of Maki’s hair a deep pink that matched lips Nico might have fantasized about kissing. Once. Maybe twice.

“Maybe.” Maki winked, almost touching Nico’s chair as she walked past.

“Figures.” Nico sat up. She was hungry. Give Maki a bit of head start, at least until Nico was sure she wasn’t contagious. No more coughing Covid cuties here if Nico could help it.

###

Nico had jumped into the stream from her room to say hi, but skipped singing. A low energy performance that ended in a cough would have been fun for no one. Rin and Maki had been adorable. Rin was a tiny ginger cutie with the energy of a bullet train. Nico tried to imagine how Rin and Maki ended up friends, but it was hard.

Why wonder when she could ask.

N: How did you and Lucky Cat, Jr. get to be best buds.

M: She tackled me.

N: Σ(･口･)

M: We had gym together, we were playing flag football, Rin forgot about the flags and tackled me, I dropped her in a rainwater barrel, we played desktop football during a week’s worth of detention -- I always won, no matter what Rin tells you -- and then we found out we had the same lunch.

N: So what happens if Nico tackles you.

M: ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

N: Nico was impressed you could swing “You’re The Cream In My Coffee” when your coffee’s always black.

M: I didn’t have to drink it.

N: Do you miss the coffeeshop?

M: No.

N: But you got to spend with the #1 Boss in the World, Nico.

M: My parents made me do that.

N: (T⌓T)

M: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Nico put her phone down. My parents made me do that? Is that all? Didn’t Maki miss all the effort Nico had put in to try to help her? And sure, she’d never said thank you, but Nico hadn’t gotten the impression that her less than stellar student had hated the situation. Was Nico only here because Maki felt some obligation.

There was a quiet knock on the door.

“Nico?” Nico heard sounds of Maki settling against the door. “Can we talk?”

Nico squelched her immediate “Tell Dr. Nico what's bothering you” with a quiet “Okay.”

“I...it’s not...the coffeeshop was okay, you were great, people were…” Maki paused, sounding amused and altering her voice as if quoting someone, “stoopid, but…” The door moved like Maki had pushed her back against it, “I hate schedules, I don’t want to just follow a path because it’s there, because my parents, because it’s...because the wheels lock in.”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t know.” A pause, “I’ve been liking this.”

“Nico nearly died.”

“No you didn’t. And I didn’t mean that. I’m enjoying working on music, performing...I’ve been playing the piano more than I have for years…” Maki was drumming her fingers on the door.

“Nico can't imagine you not playing; it seems so you.”

A laugh, first quietly pleased and then wry, “I don’t even really mind Hanayo harassing me to find something to wear.”

“Nico will harass you even more, if that’s what you like.”

A sigh, “But it’s not real.”

“Nico’s real, Maki’s real, why isn’t making music together real?”

“My parents…”

“Forget your parents. What does Maki want?”

A long pause, little movement.

“More.”

A/N: Decided to split this @auyeahaugust Coffeeshop AU next chapter in two so I could post this bit faster. I didn't want anyone worrying about Nico for too long ; )

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #Love Live #Cafe Quarantine #AU Yeah August

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