#and a weird sort of warmth spreads through me as I read those old conversations

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[spaceorphan18]

Head Over Feet (1/14)

After Kurt and Blaine broke up the second time, they went their separate ways, living their separate lives in New York City. Fifteen years later, a retirement party brings them back together into each other's orbit, with surprising, for both of them, consequences. Are they able to fit each other into their already complicated and messy lives? And are these newfound feelings real? Or just echoes of a past relationship?

Canon Divergent after Season 5.

Ao3 Link

A/N: Yes, I know I have a bunch of other WIPs - and I am still working on all of them! But I’ve been so excited about this one, I just want to get it out there... 

Thanks to @snarkyhag for the beta. :) 

***

Chapter 1: Loser Like Me (Part One) 

Fall 2028

Blaine is dreaming.  It’s all fuzzy, but there are hands… familiar hands that are on him clasping his own, cupping his face, trailing down, down, down to where it feels good.  He begins to feel the warmth spread throughout his body.  He feels good, so good… Lips are against his, rough and hungry, he is enveloped in want, in need… He lets out a groan, letting the pleasure overtake him.  He reaches out, desperate for more, but as he does so, that good feeling starts to float away.  He makes a grasp for it, but it’s no longer there, and he is left cold and wanting more.  

And then his alarm goes off.  

Blaine wakes up hard as a rock.  He can’t remember the last time he had a dream about sex.  Maybe when he had been a teenager? Or possibly college?  But he doesn’t remember any of those dreams ending him with his dick actually aching to fuck something.  

He stares at the ceiling for a good long moment, thinking the urgency will eventually wear off.  He turns his head, slightly, to see the outline of his husband on the other side of the bed.  He doesn’t bother to wake Sean -- not that morning sex had ever been a part of their marriage.  They’re on opposite schedules; the show Sean is doing the costumes for is in the middle of its workshop, and if it gets picked up by a good producer, it could mean big things.  And Sean is cranky in the morning, anyway.  

Blaine can just as easily take care of himself.

He gets up, slowly.  The erection still hasn’t died down, and Blaine begins to wonder if this is even normal for someone his age.  Maybe he should call a doctor.  He laughs to himself.  Or maybe he should jack off and not worry about it.  

He moves off the bed, having to go around it to get to the bathroom.  In the process, he has to step over a huge pile of Sean’s clothes.  Blaine takes a moment to pick them up, and throw them into the laundry basket.  Two seconds, it takes.  Is that really so hard?  

The clothes also smell like booze and cigarettes, which means Sean has been staying out late with the company again.  It’s fine, they used to both go all the time to the afterparties and the clubs, but some time after Blaine hit thirty, he didn’t find them as enticing any more.  Something about feeling almost twice as old as everyone around him killed the spirit.

Blaine gets into the bathroom, turning on the light, and easily stripping out of the boxers that he wears to bed.  His dick is still throbbing to be touched, so he gives himself a few hardy strokes before turning on the water for a shower.  It’s weird, he thinks, as he gets in.  Sex used to be the a staple of his marriage but, as the years passed, he and Sean manage once a week if they’re lucky.  He hasn’t really missed it, or maybe he hasn’t noticed he missed it.  Because getting off with just his hand doesn’t normally feel so good.  

He indulges a little, thinking about that dream, and those hands on him.  Letting someone else take over, take control, take him apart.  He thinks, at first, of Sean, pulling from the catalogue of their sex life.  Sean being the one to hold him, and stroke him, and suck him down.  But as much as he tries to concentrate on his husband, the scene keeps pulling away, and there’s someone else there -- a faceless man with deft hands who knows exactly how Blaine likes to be touched.  

He speeds up his hand, and yet somehow it doesn’t feel like enough.  He braces himself against the tile of the bathroom wall, fucking furiously into his hand until his hips take on a life of their own.   Eventually he comes, jolting hard into his hand.  The orgasm tears through him, and he lets out a near scream that he hopes doesn’t wake Sean.  

It takes a moment to come down, and he leans against the tiles, enjoying the blissed out feeling as the hot water sprays over him.  He’s not sure what had brought all that on but he does feel more relaxed.  He’s been too pent up lately.  Maybe he does need to start seeing his therapist again…

***

On Wednesdays, Blaine only teaches one class and he is back home by noon in time, usually, to make himself lunch before heading out to do afternoon errands (or stay in and grade papers).  Before the workshop started, he and Sean would usually make Wednesday nights their together time.  But those have faded away over the past year or so.  Blaine has gotten used to spending the evenings alone, to the point that when Blaine arrives back at the apartment that afternoon, he’s startled to see Sean there making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  

Sean stands against the counter, chewing the sandwich slowly as he watches Blaine put his bag and coat on one of the kitchen table chairs.   “You okay?” Sean asks, taking another bite.  A bit of crust lands in his red beard, and he brushes it off and onto the floor.  Blaine shakes his head, now he understands why the floor is always so filthy.  “You’re looking at me as if I’m a stranger in the house.”

“No, it’s fine,” Blaine says.  Maybe it’s not.  It feels, weirdly, like an intrusion on his private time, but the thought is laughable.  His husband is home -- he should be happy.  Blaine begins to rifle through the fridge, pulling out a container of tuna fish to have for lunch.  They could eat together, at the table, like civilized people.  “What happened with the workshop?”

“Remember me telling you about Ashleigh and Karyn and their obsessive ambition to be the first to win a Tony? Or whatever the fuck they’re actually looking for.”

“Yes.” No? Maybe? He can’t keep all of the cast members of Sean’s show straight.  But Blaine doesn’t really feel like listening to a who’s who tangent.  He finishes making the sandwich as Sean explains further.  

“Well, I don’t know how it started, but I know how it ended -- with the both of them in the hospital,” Sean says.  “So with both the lead and the understudy out, the workshop is on hold for a little while.”

“Wait, who was the lead again?” Blaine asks.  Sandwich made, he grabs some chips from the pantry and a bottle of water and heads to the kitchen table.  Sean follows him, leaving his now empty plate on the counter, before taking his usual seat across from Blaine.  

“Karyn,” Sean says, stealing some chips from Blaine’s bag.  “The blonde.”

“Right.”

“So, I guess you have me home for a while.”

Blaine plasters an immediate smile to his face.  He’s not entirely sure how to feel, though.  “Are you still getting paid?”

“Yeah,” Sean grabs more chips.  “Marv’s gotta girl lined up in case it takes longer.  Shouldn’t be more than a week.”  

“Ah.”  

Sean taps his fingers on the table.  Blaine sips from his water bottle.  There’s a siren outside somewhere, and the upstairs neighbor’s dog sprints back and forth, causing the ceiling to creek.  

“I paid the water bill,” Sean says after a long moment.  

“Great,” Blaine says.  “I still say we should get reimbursed for the neighbors tapping into our pipes.”  

“I’ll talk to Greg about it.”

“Great.”

Blaine eats his sandwich in a strange sort of silence as Sean watches him.  He feels like they should talk about something.  What do they usually talk about these days? Work? The apartment? The new musical mini-series Netflix put out?  Sean doesn’t ask how Blaine’s class went.  Blaine doesn’t offer to talk about it.  Nothing really feels like a good conversation.  

Which is why Blaine decides to mention it… “So, I had the weirdest dream last night.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it was some kind of sex dream,” Blaine says, licking the tuna from his fingers.  “I woke up hard as fuck.”

Sean gives a smirk.  “I can’t tell if this is your way of telling me you want to fool around tonight, or if you’re concerned and want to see a doctor.”  

Blaine laughs into his water.  “I decided I’m too young still to have dick problems, and jacked off in the shower.”  

Sean’s eyes go wide with amusement.  “Shame I missed that show.  If you’re still feeling it, we can mess around after lunch if you want.”

Blaine gives an unenthused shrug.  “I’ve got some errands to run.  Then I’m having dinner with Santana tonight, but if you want to catch the late show, it can be arranged.”  

“We’ll see,” Sean says.  “I told some of the guys I’d meet them out for drinks tonight.  There’s a new bar opening over in SoHo.”

A flash of irritation runs through Blaine.  It’s not the turning down of sex that bothers him.  He really doesn’t want to spend his evening at a bar in SoHo.  He really doesn’t want to spend the evening with Sean’s questionable friends ‘Way-Too-Flirty’ Don and ‘Drinks-Too-Much’ Steve.  He doesn’t even really want to go out, especially when he has to teach an early morning class.  But he’s not there to tell Sean what to do.  

He finishes off the sandwich without a word.  It’s not like Sean feels differently about Santana.  

“You know, speaking of Santana, that reminds me,” Sean says, getting up from his seat.  He goes over to the counter and brings back a red envelope.  “This came for you today -- from McKinley High.”  

Blaine takes it with interest.  He gets mailers from Dalton Academy all the time -- even if he didn’t graduate from there, he had still technically been an alumni.  But something from McKinley?  That just seems weird.  It isn’t the right time for there to be a reunion.  He has no idea what it could possibly be.  

He opens it up to find a black and gold invitation. “Oh,” he says a little fondly as he reads it.  “My old glee club teacher is retiring.  He’s inviting everyone back for homecoming weekend to celebrate.  Cute.”  

Sean grabs at the paper after Blaine lets it drop back to the table.  “Do you want me to come with you?” he offers quietly.  

“Would you want to go?” It’s not often that Sean comes with him on the rare occasions he heads back to Ohio.  

Sean hesitates before he speaks, and snacks on another couple of chips before replying.  “I probably should stay to make sure Marv has a handle on this whole Ashleigh-Karyn thing.  That is, unless you’d like me to go.”  

Blaine stares hard at the paper.  It’s not like he couldn’t go.  He doesn’t have to teach on Fridays, and the school is having a holiday weekend that same weekend.  In theory, he could and it wouldn’t be a problem.  “I don’t even know if I should.”

“Maybe go to see your parents, Blaine,” Sean says.  “It’s got to be at least a few years since you’ve seen them.”

“I saw them last year at…” Blaine considers.  Has time really flown by so quickly? “Huh, I guess it has been at least two since that Christmas we spent in Ohio.” He sits back in his chair to think about it.  

“Hey, Blaine…” There’s suddenly a heaviness in the air.  There’s something behind Sean’s eyes that hadn’t been there earlier.  Something that Blaine catches glimpses of every once in a while.  Something that they’ve been avoiding and, for a moment, Blaine fears that Sean is actually going to bring it up.  The room gets darker, just a cloud passing by the sun, but everything is still -- too still, and Blaine’s heart begins to race.  The moment passes, though, and whatever Sean had been about to say changes.  “I guess talk to Santana about it, and see what she says.”

Blaine stares down at the paper again.  Suddenly, a weekend away from the apartment, away from the city, away from Sean doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.  “Yeah, I’ll do that.”  

***

The fall wind is sharp in its crispness, but it’s still a nice enough evening to go for a run in Central Park.  Three days a week, he and Santana Lopez go out for a jog then grab dinner at a nearby taco truck so they can sit and gossip.  Santana, who’s office isn’t far from where they meet, is already waiting for Blaine when he arrives.  She is stretching her legs, bent over in a V, wearing her usual black spandex pants with a bright, blue bomber jacket that billows slightly.  Her designer sunglasses rest on the top of her head.

Because he has been thinking about high school all day, he can’t help but think that she hasn’t changed much.  Her face has hardened a little with age, but Blaine knows her beauty care routine is much more extensive than his, and he knows how much she spends on wigs and dye jobs.  Today, though, her long, black hair is pulled back tightly in a high pony, amusingly reminiscent of how she wore it in high school.  

“Okay, so I have some hot goss for you today,” she says, immediately after they exchange pleasantries.  She waits for him to do his own stretching, but continues to launch into her news.  “So, you remember how I’ve been endlessly talking about the cute redhead on the floor below?”

“The one who works as a secretary for the greasy lawyer?” Blaine pulls his leg back.  The stretching feels nice, he is glad he is able to get out of the stuffy apartment in some capacity tonight, even if he can tell Santana is a bit more ramped up than usual.  

Santana nods.  “So for weeks now, it’s been flirty glances, and unbuttoning buttons to show off some pretty pricey brassieres, but you know, nothing direct.  Well, today she comes up to my floor, claiming the bathroom is not working in their offices -- and I checked, she was totally lying -- and she’s wearing this tight, and I mean tight, nearly see-through button-down.  With no bra.  She had on no bra.  I could see her fucking nipples, Blaine.”

“The nerve,” Blaine teases.  They begin to walk down their usual path.  They have a good quarter of a mile before they usually start jogging, though they might go the first half of their two miles at a walking pace just so Santana could release her pent up energy verbally.  

“Who doesn’t wear a bra in a professional setting?” Santana continues.  Blaine arches an eyebrow at her.  “Okay, so I have totally done it, but I promise you it was warranted.  Anyway, I think she’s trying to kill me.  I took all of my restraint not to pull her directly into the janitor’s closet and make out with her.  And play with her tits.  I can’t unsee her fucking hot tits, Blaine.” Santana grumbles, putting a fist to her head, as if it’ll magically erase the image.

“You know, you could ask for her number,” Blaine suggests, for maybe the third time since Santana has started talking about the woman.  “Or, you know, find out her name.”  

Santana looks at him sharply.  He knows, she just wants a minute to bitch and revel in her janitor closet fantasies, but it’s not in him not to offer suggestions.  “Her name is Liz.  I at least found that out today.”

“Well, that’s a start,” Blaine offers.  

“Alright, what’s up with you?” she asks abruptly.  “Usually, you’re talking my head off about school, and I’m always having to catch up to you.  You’re trailing me by nearly a foot.  Something’s going on.”

Santana’s senses are rarely off, he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is by it.  He tries to quicken his pace but she is right, he is been in his head all day.  “I’m thinking of going back to therapy.”  He says it simply, laying it out as if it’s another fact, and not something that’s been weighing on his mind.  

She gives him a concerned look.  “Is this a ‘just you’ thing? Or a ‘you and Sean’ thing?”

“A ‘just me’ thing,” he admits.  They are nearly at the lamp post where they usually start to jog, but he’s not feeling as up to it as he had been when he arrived at the park.  “Sean’s staying home for a few days, and I’ve been restless lately…” he doesn’t quite say the things he’s thinking.  “And, I don’t know, I had a weird sex dream this morning.  I’ve been off all day.”

“Well, what does Sean think?”

“He offered to fuck, but I told him I had it taken care of.”

“What, no, not about the sex dream,” Santana stops in her tracks.  They have to wait a moment for an older woman walking a doberman to pass in-between them.  “What does your husband think about you going to therapy?”

“It didn’t come up.”  

“God, Blaine,” Santana says, exasperated.  “Well, if you really would rather spend your evening with me than reconnecting with your husband who is, as you well know, built like a fucking viking, then maybe therapy is what you need.”

It’s more complicated than that.  She knows some of it, but maybe not all of it, and it’s more than Blaine would really like to get into on their fairly public walk through Central Park.  But Santana has also grown to be one of his closest friends and, if nothing else, he can confide in her.  

“I’m going to set up an appointment,” he tries to play it off as just another thing.  She knows better, and gives him one of her infamous staredowns.  “And if it’s something I think I need to continue to do, I’ll keep you informed,” he tries to assure her.  

“You better, Anderson.” Her voice is sharp.  “I may have a cold, dead heart, but I want you to be happy.  And you know I’m always going to be blatantly honest with you, so I say this with all the love I can muster, but I don’t think you are.”  

“I know, I know…” He’s not not happy.  He loves his job.  He loves his little apartment.  He loves being in one of the greatest cities in all of the world.  He and Sean are…  “So, hey, did you get your invitation to Mr. Schue’s retirement party?”  He begins to walk again.  He knows he’s avoiding the conversation, so does Santana.  But she rolls with it.  

“He’s retiring?  Dear god, he’s barely over fifty.”

Blaine lets out a little laugh.  “Well, that’s what the invitation said.”  

“And, fuck, no, I haven’t gotten one,” Santana says.  “Though, it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve checked the mail.  Who sends invitations through the mail these days?  Just start a text chain like a normal person.”

“Would you go?” He asks.  He’s been back and forth on the idea all day.  Does he really want or need to see anyone from high school again?  Possibly?  Would it be nice to get away for a weekend? Most definitely.  Can he really afford to skip town for a little while? That is the big unanswered question.  

Santana bites her lip, thinking it over.  “I mean it really depends on who else got these magical invitations.  Oh, god, will Rachel Berry be there? Please tell me Rachel Berry will be there.  Because I have got to see how little Miss TV-Princess does in a place that does not revolve around her ego.”

Blaine has never had the issues with Rachel that Santana had, but he does remember college.  He does remember Funny Girl.  “Sorry, Santana, I don’t actually have an answer for you on that one.”

Santana throws her hands in the air.  “You keep in touch with everyone, right?  Well, isn’t she part of everyone?”

“I think she’s become a little out of my status level,” Blaine replies, with a smirk.  “Besides, I don’t keep in touch with everyone .”  Truth be told, Santana might be the only person he talks to from high school.  At least on a regular basis.  For all the promises made during the time of staying BFFs forever, real life managed to get in the way of the magical thinking.  

“Alright, let’s work it out, right now, cause this will be the determining factor,” she says.  She pulls at a leaf from one of the trees above her, causing the branch to bounce.  It nearly whacks him in the head, which causes her to giggle a little and shake her head.  “Let’s see… Rachel Berry, possibly.  Said ego might drive her back to the place where it all began.”  

“Sam Evans will probably be there,” Blaine says.  “He does still live in the area.” He and Sam don’t have a lot of contact, but occasionally they’ll do a long distance Fantasy Football thing or chat about a new video game they both own.  He hopes Sam will go - he could use more of that laid back charm in his life.  

“Artie clearly won’t be,” Santana continues.  “I know, because I’m the one who put him on the European press tour for his new film.”

“I doubt Tina will be there either,” Blaine adds.  “She just had her third baby, and she and Ron probably don’t want to make the trip from Boston to Lima with three young children.”  

He thinks of Tina’s Instagram, the only way he really communicates with her, and the constant updates for her hectic life.  She’s happy and looking good, and way too busy to drop everything and run back to Ohio.  Blaine makes a note to give her a call at some point to congratulate her formally on the new baby, even if he had already left a cute note on the Instagram pictures.  

Santana is too caught up in her thought process to say more about Tina.  “Finn won’t be there for obvious reasons.  What the fuck happened to Puck? I doubt he has an address to even send anything to.  Quinn’s too prideful to drag her divorced ass out of Connecticut.  You know she’s already taken a new lover ?  She’s in her mid-thirties, and still hitting up the sugardaddies.  I mean, have some goddamn respect for yourself.”

“Well, Mike’s in Chicago,” Blaine offers.  Mike had been part of the Chicago Ballet for a long time, and had since become a dance instructor.  Blaine had been at Mike’s wedding to his wife, Marie, a couple of years ago, and he’s another one whom Blaine wouldn’t mind seeing again.  Maybe he, Mike, and Sam could have a nice guys’ night out that weekend.  He’ll have to get in touch.

Santana nods.  They walk by a woman sitting on a bench with two screaming children.  Blaine feels bad for the woman, but he and Santana share a look -- both of them glad that they don’t have to deal with that kind of hot mess at home.  

“Then there’s Mercedes,” Santana says, looking up and out into the world.  “Goddess among women.  We do not have the privilege to be in her presence.”  Santana laughs at her own comments.  “Seriously, though, I love my girl, but I don’t judge her for continuing to live her best life.”

“What about Brittany?” Blaine asks, tentatively.  He has no idea if this is a sore subject for her or not because he doesn’t think Santana has brought her up once over the course of their friendship.  

Santana becomes stoney-faced, as if not to give herself too much away.  “No,” she says simply.  “Brittany’s living in some commune in LA where she does Fondue for Two and runs a cat babysitting service.”  

“That’s a thing?”

“In LA it is.”  A fond smile climbs on her lips.  “In any case, as much as I am always up for seeing my girl again, I highly doubt she’ll be back.  I mean, we were still hooking up for a while the few times I made it out to LA, but recently she’s found someone a little more… permanent.  And before you go on pitying me, let me assure you, I am more than fine.”  She’s quiet for a moment as she reflects.  For a person who is almost always open about her thoughts, she’s decidedly reclusive when it comes to matters of her heart.  Blaine knows better than to try to pry it out of her. “Anyway, if we’re going to be upfront about exes, I believe there’s only one person left, if we’re not counting random chicks with mafia dads or weird Irish exchange students.  And I’m sure we both know that there’s no way in hell Lady Hummel is coming back to Lima, Ohio.”

“Oh!” Blaine says, as if it’s a complete revelation.  Kurt hadn’t even entered his mind, and it is surreal to think that his brain didn’t go there first.  

“Oh, please, don’t tell me you actually forgot about Lady Hummel and his heartbreaking ways,” Santana scoffs.  “Pretty sure years of therapy couldn’t undo all the trauma that did.”

She isn’t wrong, and she would know, because she helped pick him up a year after everything had happened.  But that’s the funny thing -- it’s not that he doesn’t remember Kurt.  (God, he remembers all of Kurt.)  He doesn’t remember the person he used to be when he had been with Kurt.  There had been a time when he would have shifted the Sun and the Moon and the entire Earth for Kurt Hummel.  A time when his heart had pointed in only one direction.  And a time so dark that when Kurt had ended it, Blaine didn’t know how he would ever move on.  

And yet he did.  

The person he had been is now such a faded memory he can barely remember what those feelings were like.  Kurt Hummel is just another name from his past, a person who, yes, helped shape him into the person he is now.  But long gone are the emotions once attached to that name.  Funny how things can change.  Someone could mean so much to you at one point in time, and yet after time…

“I didn’t forget about Kurt, clearly,” Blaine says. He grabs her arm, and loops his own through it.  The jog isn’t happening today, and he’s fine with that.  Some days, it’s best just to have the company rather than the exercise.  “I just think you’re right, unless Burt is dying or something.  But doubtful that he’ll return for a silly retirement party.”

“You almost sound disappointed.”

Blaine shrugs, and gives a smile.  He doesn’t know how he feels about whether or not Kurt will be there.  He hasn’t thought about him so long.  But he does know that after all this talk of the past, maybe he is ready to go back and see if anyone else is feeling the same way.  “I think we should do it.  Go back.  I mean, why not?”

Santana shakes her head.  “Oh, this whole idea sounds like the worst, but if there’s a chance I get to make-out with Quinn Fabray again, then I’m in.”

For the first time in a while, Blaine feels a little lighter on his feet.

***

Not a few weeks later, Blaine is on a plane back to Ohio.  

He and Sean talked it over and, while Sean had been technically free to go, they agreed that maybe it would be better if Blaine went himself; the unspoken dialogue being that space isn’t the worst thing they could give each other.  Blaine had not been able to help but be fidgety with his wedding ring during the flight but, intent on giving himself a weekend off from real life, he drowned himself in his favorite podcasts, and had tried not to think about his life in New York.  

The party is on a Saturday afternoon, but he’s there on Friday so to spend time with his mom.  They end up having a nice lunch together, and she takes him shopping.  She’s as feisty as ever, somehow managing to remind Blaine of Santana, and he wonders if she’s always been like that or if that’s a new trait of being in your sixties.  They end up FaceTiming with Cooper and the kids, and Blaine indulges his little nieces by singing them Disney Princess songs.  The whole day weirdly feels like the family they usually are only around Christmas time, but he’s in good enough spirits that he doesn’t question it.  

Later that night, his dad comes home, and they have pizza before his parents go off for one of their social benefit parties they often frequent, reminding Blaine of the old days when his parents were never home on a Friday night.  He doesn’t mind so much because McKinley’s Homecoming Football game is that night.  

His original plan had been to meet up with Sam since Santana’s plane isn’t coming in until tomorrow.  But Sam declined, stating that Mercedes Jones is coming late that night and she needs a ride from the airport.  Sam didn’t ask Blaine to come with him.  Blaine calls up Mike, who is happy to hear from him, and says that he will be at the party but is only going to make the trip to Lima once on Saturday.  He doesn’t bother trying to get a hold of anyone else, and ends up going to the game alone.  

Coming back to McKinley feels like going back in time, and yet the kids running around make him feel entirely too old to be there.  He half expects Sue Sylvester to pop out and start yelling at the cheerleaders, or Mr. Figgins to make some sort of half-time speech, but the world of McKinley has moved on, even if the campus has remained remarkably the same.  The game is fun, but kind of boring, and he’s not surprised when the team loses by seventeen points.  Still, seeing the array of alumni all cheering around him, he feels a strange sort of connection to the place in a way that he really didn’t when he actually went to the school.  It’s a bit surreal.  

Afterwards, not ready to go home to an empty house, he drives around for a bit, until by chance, he drives by Scandals, Lima’s decrepit excuse for a gay bar.  Feeling somewhat amused, a little nostalgic, and a lot in need of a drink, he decides to grab a beer for old times’ sake.  He decides, on a whim, to put his wedding ring in his pocket.  He’s not actually planning anything, but it’s also not like Sean wears his anymore, anyway.  

Scandals is even more in a sad state of affairs then he remembers, even if ‘Funk-It-Up-Friday’ is trying to give the place some of that Mid-Western Charm.  He orders a bottled beer, and sips as he thinks fondly about the time he watched Dave Karofsky try to line dance.  God, that had been so long ago…

“I’m guessing this place rarely sees a man as gorgeous as you.  Mind if I buy you a drink?”

It takes a moment for Blaine to realize the pick-up line is directed at him, but he does instantly recognize the voice.  Much to his shock, when he turns around, he’s face to face with a much older, and yet still dazzlingly magnificent, Kurt Hummel.

[all-about-seggs]

The Game of Three-

Rating : 18+, Explicit

Word count : ~ 3K

Pairing : Geto Suguru x female reader x Mahito

Warnings : Mirror sex, dub con, gaslighting ( kind of, like I wanted to add it but not sure if I did it right), Fingering, Cunnilingus, degradation (slight), voyeurism, choking, threesome near the end.

A/n: When describing Suguru's place I totally went into weeb mode and used traditional Japanese terms but I tried to define them to the best of my abilities so y'all won't get confused and I put the link of their pictures in their name as well, so you can check them out if you want.

The red clouds above you parted to reveal the cerulean blue sky, painting the engawa in front of you in its hues. Giving a quick look over to the now clean surface beneath your feet, you made your way to the supply closet to put the mop back.

It's been a few uneventful months since you got employed as one of the only two maids in the entire manor. It was fairly big, atleast for just one person, and minimally decorated so it wasn't that hard to keep the entire place clean even with the two of you. The other maid was a nice old lady who showed you the way around the place and how to do what when you were just starting out.

The manor was quite, most of the time, even with your boss's guests staying over for a couple of days, the place lacked any sort of liveliness much less talking. Just a few more hours until your evening shift is over, you mused to yourself roaming around the garden to feed the pond's fish their dinner as the sun began its descent. Mindlessly, you kept looking around the area until one of the rooms caught your eye. On your right you saw the silhouette of your employer through the thin Shoji door that coverd his room.

Having finished bathing, you saw his toned mascular arms slipping out of his thin bath yukata that contrasted to the one he usually donned, his elegant movements accentuated by the growing darkness the evening provided. His daily outfit was nothing if not modest, covering his body from head to toe, leaving everything to the imagination but right now the delicious shape of his body was on full display, making it harder for you to move.

It wasn't until his form moved closer to the door, that you realised how badly your current actions could effect the job you were given. Just the thought of yourself getting fired after being considered a peeping tom made your breath quicken and not in a good way. The panic surging through your veins momentarily turned your mind blank, making you stumble until the heel of your foot slipped on one of the algae coated rocks. Clenching your butt cheeks you braced yourself for the impact but the efforts proved pointless as the considerably shallow pond's bottom made full contact with your body.

Pain aside, the cold water of the pond was what added most to your immobility until you heard footsteps heading towards you. Looking up from your seated position, the tall figure of your boss, maybe ex boss, loomed over you. He extended one elegant hand towards you.

" Are you okay.....?", His soft tone carried nothing but gentleness but being a mess, both physically and mentally, it took you sometime to process what he had said. Hesitation was clear in your actions as you meekly let him pull you up. His grip on your arm was firm and with how easily he pulled you out of the pond showed his Zephyr-like nature had a brute strength underneath. Threads of wet, black hair covering the sides of his well sculpted face, reached all the way to his mid- back. His usual heavy garb was replaced with a single, cotten yukata which were damp in every places his hair touched.

"Y/n...... Was it?, Can you stand", putting both his hands on your shoulders he peered at your face, you still for a moment, too fascinated by his slitted eyes to look away. This was the first time you two had a real conversation so you forced yourself to speak,

" Oh...umm, I'm sorry! I didn't payed attention to the slippery rocks and fell,.....but I'm okay! So..... Yeah... thank you", it was difficult to keep your voice steady, not wanting to reveal your obviously perverted BUT unintentional peeping. Yup. That's what you kep telling yourself although his secretive smile told you that your poor lie didn't make the cut.

" I see, so tell me y/n dear.....", His hands on your shoulders gripped them a little tighter as he leaned down until his face was right in front of yours, " where exactly were you paying attention to?", The question was simple, nor did it had any threatening undertones but your throat still felt clogged. It was too embarrassing, telling your boss that you were shamelessly ogling at his silhouette changing clothes. One second, two seconds, a lot of seconds passed with you playing dumb until you heard a soft sigh.

" Alright...... If you don't want to tell me, I'll let it go........for now", emphasizing the now, he took your cold hands in his warmer ones, leading you inside his room. You were still drenched, hesitating to climb on the perfectly dry floor of his room,

"It's okay..... I'll go ask for a change of clothes so you sit here, better than the outside right?," Smiling, he disappeared down the hall. The whether wasn't cold, so you didn't have to worry about getting sick but you still reeked of fish and algae, making a change of cloths a better option. You could chid yourself for it but looking at the things in his room can't be considered peeping so you turned around from your sitting position, taking in your surroundings.

His room was relatively normal, just like rest of the manor, the furnishing was minimal, a low chabudai with a few soft looking zabuton around it, a wooden cupboard, the slightly elevated tokonoma on the right side of the room had a full body sized mirror, along with a couple of other tiny decoratives. Nothing stood out with everything in place, your boss sure had simple tastes, you thought to yourself when the door slided again, when the owner of the room itself entered.

He was empty handed , earning a questioning look from you, " it's gonna take a few more minutes to find women's clothing, I hope you don't mind, for the time being....", He walked over to cupboard, producing a towel out of it.

" Use this to dry yourself", handing you the towel he kneeled beside you, he was being so nice, you hadn't expected him to be so kind but you gratefully accepted it. When you began drying your hair, you felt his eyes on yourself, pointed and unnerving. You gulped, feeling like he could see right through your head, just waiting for you to fess up on your own. You were lost in your thoughts when his voice suddenly filled the room.

"You know.....y/n, when you desire something.....", His fingers made their way to your collar, playfully stroking your neck," you should let yourself have it", his last words were nothing but a whisper against your ear as he placed himself right behind your seated form. His upper half of the robe already wet, stuck to his body, defining each and every cut of his muscles. He was somewhere between lean and mascular, his beautiful face giving him just the right amount of sensuality. You weren't naive enough to be oblivious to his suggestive tone.

It was weird to you, perplexing even as to why a clearly well to do, good looking guy would not only make a move on his maid but a maid who smelled like she just popped out of a can of tuna fish. His deep, even breaths stroked your ear as he waited for you to answer.

" I really wasn't thinking about....... 'This'", you pulled his hands wrapped around your shoulders away, to prove your point. You thought he'd be upset but his face only lit up by your rejection.

" Is this embarrassment I see y/n? Because it's not cute", he rose on his knees, looking down at you he gently added, " the mundane world would feel much better if you indulged yourself a bit more you know, even if those indulgences are only of....."

" Sexual nature", his sharp eyes slited as his lips curled into a wicked grin. Impossible to read, his actions did nothing but lure you in a honey coverd poisonous trap. It was obvious with the way his hands started massaging your arms, right where it hurt from your previous fall, blowing softly in your ear. They was all just tricks to make you fall just so he could shame you from above but you'd be damned if it didn't got you all hot and bothered. He grazed his hand across your blouse sticking to your bust, your nipples hardened with the slightest touch. The reactions your body gave were no lies and therefore couldn't be hidden. He pressed your bodies closer until you sat snugly against his torso. You closed your eyes, still unable to decide whether or not you want to let him have his way and deal with all the risks that would soon follow after.

The front of wet your shirt was completely open by now, reveling the garment underneath. Suguru's hands trailed up and down your thighs as he hiked your long skirt higher until it pooled around your hips sticking to the sides. He hooked his left hand under your left knee, doing the same with your right side, he pulled your legs apart, with the mirror in front, you and the man behind you had a full view of your damp panties.

" See that? This is what you want. To be exposed by me. Just the thought of spreading yourself open in front me have you this wet y/n...... Are you sure you weren't waiting for this moment all along?", His voice had a mix of mockery and eroticism in it, his words only adding to the fire burning in the middle of your core. With his right hand, he grabbed the thin strap of your panties at the side of your hips and tore them off until the shredded garment was left dangling on one of your hip. The air in the room, made contact with you now naked pussy but what made you shiver was the mirror in front of you. Suguru held both of your legs as far apart as possible, his face, now lacking all the warmth it had just a few minutes ago. When you tried to squeeze your eyes shut he pinched your inner thighs hard, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

" Keep looking y/n, I'm proving it to you, just how much you're body is begging for me. And I won't stop until you've said so yourself, so keep. Your eyes. Open.," The darkness of his tone was accentuated with the look in his eyes. The fingers of his right hand made their way to your cunt, with two of them he spread your dripping lips apart, reveling the tiny swollen bud that was screaming for attention. You felt it too, the need for release spreading in your body but voicing it meant your defeat so you held your breath, letting the self assured guy behind you continue his ministrations.

" Why can't you be honest just like your needy cunt?", He cooed against your throat as he rubbed your nether lips with his digits, coating them in your slick. He didn't touch your clit, if you were going to be a brat then he's bringing his A game too. Making you beg was his only motive now, his eyes met yours, the mirror in front of you showing every nook and cranny of your privates and by now you're sure Suguru has memorised all of it. The ache between your legs was getting worse as he kept on sliding his fingers up and down your folds but never touching the rest of your sex. You knew what would make him do it but after the prolonged defiance you're not sure how to put it into words.

" Whats wrong y/n, are you ready bow to your filthy desires?, Getting off on my fingers is going to be a lot better than yours right?", Damn his rude ass remarks but they were true, the last few months have been very long and dry for you, day in and day out all work, maybe that's why you're giving in so easily, what he promised was as tantalizing as his actions, that's why you were so horny, easily aroused even.

"Right..... You're .... right, so do it.....master", you broke out, the last of your self control shredding itself as you let your voice flow out just as much as your cunt, your juices.

" Finally gave in huh?, It would've been so much easier if you'd just admitted to being my slut from the start, but oh well, this is also good", his thick fingers slipped in you with ease as he wrapped his left hand around your throat, making you look straight at the mirror. You were a mess, a totally different kind of mess you previously were, in addition to your already damp hair, your eyes were glazed with lust, the corners of your lips moist with your drool that threatened to spill out, your clothes were disheveled and tattered, you were disheveled in general and barely recognisable.

" Now look at yourself closely, how your face twists when I make you cum, how you look when you're begging to me like a real slave," his fingers picked up a brutal pace, going in and out of you relentlessly, his thumb roughly massaging your throbbing clit, sending shivers up your spine. You could clearly see your drool covered face turning hotter by the second, pussy dripping from your buliding orgasm on the tatami mats below it, your moans coming out in broken whimpers as Suguru's hand tighten around your throat, eyes rolling back for a second, you cum around his fingers hard.

" Do you see that ? How disgusting she looks right now?", Turning his gaze to the left he called out to his accomplice in crimes, " Mahito", the other man, with an amicable smile on his peculiar face stared at, not where you lied on the floor, but at your pitiful form that appeared in the mirror.

" I just dropped by to give you the clothes you asked for the young lady earlier," his talked merrily, not minding the scandalous sight in front of him one bit," but it appears that you aren't going to be needing them for a while", throwing the cloths aside he sat on your left side. Suguru kept his eyes on the mirror, loosening his hand around your neck he let you breath, mind still hazy.

" You're free to join in, if you have the time. But I'll have to warn you though, she's a persistent one, it took me a while to break her as well", Suguru smirked, pulling his fingers out of your abused hole making an exaggerated show of bringing his cum smeared fingers to your face, as if prove his victory.

" I don't mind a challenge every once in a while Geto kun, I'm not bad at 'this' myself, but to make sure, why don't you keep sitting, after all it's been a while since touched a living human", Still a bit delirious, it took you a few more seconds than usual to process the change in your situation or what he meant by living just now or touching even. The man named Mahito kneeled in between your still parted thighs, you thought it was strange that your brains last and probably rotting cells decided to focus on his eyes. They were heterochromatic, it gave his already scared face a haunting quality.

The fact that you were sandwiched between two men soon left your mind as Mahito started sucking on your still sensitive clit, your legs instinctively clamping if it's weren't for Suguru holding them apart. The man behind you weren't entirely evil though as he rubbed soothing circles on the soft inner flesh of your aching thighs, his touch only heightning the touch of the man between them.

Mahito licked your juices as if they were made to be feasted upon, slurping on them lewdly, the V of his fore and middle finger seperated your pussy for more access, he grazed his teeth lightly across your clit, fighting the urge to bit it down. You didn't have any energy at this point to put up a show of defiance so you kept moaning, the sight of the man lying flat on his stomach along with his face hidden in between your legs was urging you to cum, but the abrupt thrusting of Suguru's fingers in your mouth cut them off.

" If you're mouth is available enough to scream for just anyone who makes you cum then you truly do have the makings of a whore.", His words were nothing more than a possessive hiss against you throat, long fingers grazing your tonsils as he pushes them deeper. You gag a little, the fingers in you mouth kept you from reacting to the man who worked your pussy until it throbbed against his face.

Mahito turned his heterochromatic eyes towards your face, it seemed like someone was keeping you from your release, he sucked on your clit again adding two fingers in your streched out cunt. He moved both his tongue and digits in similar motions, causing a surge pleasure wash down your senses, with just a few quick pumps of his fingers, your juices gushed on his face as your moans get stifled by the fingers in your mouth.

" That wasn't so bad right?", Mahito pushed himself up as he asked his partner in crime, something about his tone was awfully cocky, making Suguru's face scrunched up in a haughty smirk as he added,

" Indeed, you sure know your way around the human's body Mahito kun, but maybe a little less egar to please attitude would do better. Can't let our toy think we're just here for catering to her needs now can we?", His voice loaded with provocative innuendos sounded nothing but gentle but the other man knew better.

" Hooo?, Is that a challenge for round two, then?", He met Suguru's goading with a playful and assured tone. Both of them stared each other, neither of the males backing down they both turned their eyes at your spent body, and you know even without having to look, that it was going to be a long night.

[justthedegenerate]

the door

Welp, here is some ateez fanfic im building off of a weird ass dream i had. Im saying this ahead, its not gonna be constent, its der gonna be smutty at some point and i hope you like holes cuz its gonna be filled eith plotholes.

Ps. I also take criticism if you want, i didnt proof read it, i really just thiught one other degenerate out there might like it.

Enjoy <3

Its so weird. I was reading, peacefully, in a cemetery on st-jean street. I was supposed to go see some friends, but they were still cleaning their place. So i went to buy a coffee down the street. I talked about a decade old french show with the barista. She was nice. I went to sit somewhere further, the olympia passage. Or i think its called like that, no one knew what i was talking about when i called it that. Someone came to me to talk about poesy, and given my patient nature, i listened to him. I told him i was an illustrator, and could illustrate his poems if he wanted. He looked delited, and said it was rare that people didn't just ignore him, or look at him as if he was lesser than them. I din't know why, i left him my phone number, for the poem thing, and i took his. I really trust too easily, but if there is even a 1% chance that he actually just wants to create, then ill take that chance. Soon after he left, another friend, closer to me, came along. He was meeting someone at the same coffee i went to ealier. We planned to go converse shopping a few hours later. I walked with him down the street, then left when his friend arrived.

Further on the street, there is a really old cemetery, behind a small church. The worst tomb has a family in it, about 12 kids between 12 days to 12 years old. It's calm. There are a lot of trees, reminding me that at the end of the day, i belong to the earth. This type of calmness almost makes me look up to the day i pass.

I sat under the big tree. It is not especially big, but it is indeed larger than the rest. I opened my book, and read. It was very simple, a story about some gay witch with her equally gay otaku demon and a girl that disappeared. Maybe. The end was a bit fuzzy, so i wasn't quite sure. But i think that all along, the blue haired girl was actually a piece of the witch's imagination or something like that. I like these endless stories, you tend to think about them way more than stories that close entirely. So i put the book down and looked at my phone. My friend told me her cleaning wasn't done yet. I don't know what i was expecting.

Well, at least i can say what i wasn't expecting. To blackout completely, and to wake up in a small stinky backstreet on the other side of the world.

Now this may be a bit confusing, so let me explain a bit more. For the first part, it's honestly going to end there. I put my phone down, looked towards my friend's place and the world around me began to feel heavier, as if the sky was falling down. I felt victim of this kind of gravity shift, even if i'm pretty sure it only happened to me. Things began to move around me, but i was way too far to really pay attention to it. As i opened my eyes, it was night. I was laying against a garbage bin, one of those big store ones. I was in a small backstreet, hidden from the world. As i tried to get up, i felt like every single inch of my body was sore. I looked down, and i was dressed in some oversized off-white shirt, more yellow than white really but that was probably because of how dirty it was. I definitely had panties under, which i felt were probably more sexy ones than comfortable ones, but the lack of pants quickly put me off. Feeling my eyes, i had some makeup leftovers, that probably had just spread around even more. Despite all of that, what really chocked me the most was the weight i had lost. Not like 2-5 lbs, more like 15-20 lbs, and not in a healthy way. Whatever had just happened to me had been happening for a while.

As i was still taking it all in, i heared a door open, with voices coming out of it. Two people. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but i quickly recognized some korean words. More people came out. Three more, soon followed by another pair. As the last one came out, i decided that i my need for help was greater than the odds of them being bad people, so i went out of the streets. The bright neon signs of the convinient store blinded me for a second, before i could figure out the silouhette of 8 men. I let out a soft and painful, "help" before turning around to take in more of what was around me. Wherever i was, this was not home. I felt the panic start to rise in me so i turned to the men, who had stopped their walk to look at me. Some of them had cold, almost scared faces, but the one that sticked to me the most was the one closest to me. A tall, black and red haired guy, that almost looked in more pain than me. One of the people in the back said something, that from the loudness i assumed was to me, but I didn't catch it, since it was in korean. It's at that moment that it all came down.

I fell down to my knees. Eyes blank, looking at the ground. Tears were pouring out of my eyes, but my expression was not following them. The tall guy came down to my level, and in a broken english asked "are you alright?"

-Do i look alright, i spitted at him. I have no idea where i am, or what is going on, i'm clearly a world away from home, I don't understand anything that anyone here says, im hurt, im almost naked, i lost a shit ton of weight and i dont even know how, the only taste i have in my mouth is dehydration, i miss my cat, i miss my bed and my stupid ass friend who can't seem to ever be on time and....and...

I raise up my head to look at him. He pierces through my eyes as if he was looking for answers.

-and...im cold.

I fall in his arms, all strength gone.

I can feel his warmth get closer.

I can feel his heartbeat.

I feel some sort of warm blanket around me.

I feel a pillow, softer than any i ever had.

As i feel fingers going through my hair, I hear a melody that, even if for a small second, makes my believe that everything will be all right, and i find myself dreaming that this moment never stops.

I briefly open my eyes, just to see these dreaming eyes. "Who are you", i somehow ask, right before falling asleep. As if he knew that I wasn't there to hear the answer anymore, the mysterious man lowers himself to my ear and simply wispers,

"I'm Yunho."

[pendragonfics]

(the man) across the hall

Paring: Markus/Reader

Tags: gender-neutral reader, gender-neutral pronouns, alternate universe - modern setting, Markus’s last name is Manfred, Leo Manfred is a racist, domestic fluff, slow build, angst and hurt/comfort, threats of violence, gun violence, angst with a happy ending

Summary: The apartment opposite was always a home to someone. The fact that nobody ever stayed long made for a tradition of regular baking, practicing the welcome speech, looking forward to who was coming afterward even before the newcomers had settled in.

Word Count: 3,265

Current Date: 2019-10-14

Tagged: @angelwrote 

The apartment opposite was always a home to someone. The fact that nobody ever stayed long made for a tradition of regular baking, practicing the welcome speech, looking forward to who was coming afterward even before the newcomers had settled in. Not that you’d been in your apartment long; two years in your little nook just outside of the city centre of Detroit was one area of stability that kept your routine in check. Waking at dawn, drinking coffee darker than pitch, and working eleven-hour days down at a convenience store on the main street. And in the other thirteen hours of the day, that was for night school, and sleep.

You’re coming home after the long day of chasing shoplifters and deflecting strangers’ advances and stranger conversations, to find a newcomer in the apartment opposite. The door is wedged open with two textbooks on psychology, both thicker than your head, and there’s muffled music playing from the squeaky sound system of what you assume is an old phone. You’ve been awake too long, and your head is as heavy as a fire truck, but still, as you fumble for your keys, you spare a glance inside.

There’s the same furniture as the last tenant, but instead of a ratty throw over the couch, a cliché phrase cross-stitch framed on the wall, there are nice pillows and a calendar with art of American monuments. The month of October is somewhere in New England with autumn leaves and Halloween-esq art.

A man walks from the other room, and spies you as you manage to slot the right key in. He looks to be the same age as you and wears his locs with a patterned bandana, his hair cascading just above his shoulders. His eyes are two colours, but both light up as they meet your own.

“Hi, sorry, I’ll turn down the - I’m Markus Manfred,” he introduces. By the time he gets to his doorway, hand outstretched to shake, you’ve opened your door. But it’s then he realises you truly don’t have any hands free “Can I lend you a hand? Your hands look a little bit full.”

Your mind is empty, no words cued for the newcomer. You felt a rush of heat pool upon your face, neck and lower stomach, astonished at the politeness of your neighbour.

“I -,” you offer a bag of shopping to Markus, a small smile gracing your face, “yes, thank you so much.”

He helps you in and flicking the lights on, both of you move to kitchenette. It wasn’t a studio per se; the bathroom was small adjoining your room, and apart from that, there was room for your couch, and a bookshelf full of knickknacks.

“You know, you tell Markus. “I’m usually the one who welcomes people to their homes, not the other way around,”

“You know what they say, see a need…” he re-joined. “I’d hate to come off as an asshole.”

You take Markus in, head to toe. The only thing that screams “asshole!” about this man is the fact that he’s wearing a plain white tee tucked into his blue jeans, but other than that he looks every part as nice as the words that are coming from his mouth.

“Something tells you that you can’t be one of those,” you reply, and with your hands now free you place your hand in his. Not only is his demeanour warm, but slender fingers, too. “I’m _________. Welcome to the building.”

Markus beams, releasing your hand from his. His handshake had a good grip, and you swear as your mind lingers on his surname that it is vaguely familiar. You can’t place a finger on it. Perhaps you read it in one of the newspapers at the store or heard it in the news. At the moment you hesitate, Markus moves to help unload your bags, and you watch him, somewhat flabbergasted, somewhat ashamed of being aided.

“I can do that, please,” you shoo him from the bench, but the majority of the first bag is emptied. Markus watches you, his green and blue eyes following your own. “You’ve got your apartment to unpack, and besides, I’m making potato bake for you.”

“I can’t possibly -,” he begins.

“I always make food for neighbours on their first day…consider it repayment for helping me in.”

He goes to protest again but thinks twice. A hand in his pocket, he gives you a little smile, and it widens, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Thank you, _________. Really.” He places his spare hand on your bench, and as he turns to return to his apartment.

“Are you allergic to anything?” you ask.

Over his shoulder, Markus calls out, “Just soy!” and closes the door behind him.

Though you’re tired as hell and quite frankly are behind on an assessment, you start at the potato bake, glad that you’ve met the newcomer. As you turn the oven on to preheat, you bite your lip, studying your reflection in the window. You have a good feeling about Markus Manfred; something tells you that that won’t be the last you hear from him.

---

It’s two weeks later, and your boss has finally hired another person at the shop. Her name is North (and she hates that Kimye made her name a thing) and though her uni schedule clashes with the store hours, it means you’re working shorter hours, more frequently. It feels weird to sleep in until nine, get ready, and then take over at twelve, to finish at six. While it’s costing your boss more to keep the convenience store open another hour, the sales more than compensate for the loss, and you’re coming home with more pep in your step.

It also means you have more time around the apartment for the first time since moving to Detroit; and more time for incidental meetings with Markus in the hallway.

You find out that he’s a social worker who got reassigned from New York City, that he painted most of the art that hangs in his apartment, and that his dad is Carl Manfred, i.e. the American painter of the century. You learn all this over various coffees shared on his, or your couch, spread over the weeks that passed since you first met. It’s amazing how much you’ve hit it off with him; last time you were somewhat this friendly with a neighbour was a year ago, with old Mr Kamski who had too many Persian cats - all named Chloe after his daughter who lived in Scandinavia - to count.

“So, you’re a social worker, saving kids’ lives, making a difference one day at a time,” you overstate, waving a hand in a general manner, the other cradling a cup of tea, “and make time for your passion, family, and mental health? Sounds fake, but okay.”

Markus laughs into his mug. “I suppose I’m the lucky few,” he says. “But what about you? You’re at the -,”

“Mini Mart, down on the main street.” You supply.

“- and when you’re not working, you’re here?” He motions around your apartment. Since the first night when you met Markus, you’ve had more time to tidy around the place and keep it that way. “I mean, it’s nice, but I refuse to believe that’s all there is to you.”

“I’m studying, actually,” you tell him. You place your mug on the coffee table, and add, leaning back into the couch, “Night school. I’m going to make something of myself.”

“Nurse?” he guesses.

“Doctor,” you correct, feeling a little bit proud. “I’ve always wanted to work in triage. It’s hard, but…”

“You know, _________, I can see you in that,” Markus remarks.

There’s a warmth in his eyes, and since you’ve gotten to know him, you’ve come to see it more often in his face. He goes to say something else, but you’re interrupted by the sound of someone pounding at the door. More specifically, not at your door.

He and you share a glance, confused, and as you unlock the door, you find a young man standing at Markus’ door. He’s shorter than you, with dusty brown hair, a hoodie and jeans with holes, and from what you can see, his skin is kind of pale that makes you wonder if he’s anaemic rather than descended from the Irish. He continues at bashing at the door, the side of his fist connecting with the door rather than knuckles.

“Leo?” Markus approached your side, incredulous.

The man turned around. He looked tired in the blue eyes beneath the black one, which was an ugly shade of puce. His lip was cracked, with recently dried blood smeared across his chin. He bared his teeth in imitation of a smile, locking eyes with Markus.

“It’s been a long time, brother,” He barked. It wasn’t his tone; his voice sounded dry, just as chapped as the skin around his lips. “What, no welcome? Who’s your friend?”

“They’re none of your concern,” Markus replies.

His eyes narrowed, and you watch as he stalks across the hallway to Leo, the man who called Markus his brother. You keep yourself in your arms, staying half-hidden in your own doorway, observing them both. Back when you first met Markus, you had skimmed a Wikipedia page for Carl Manfred as a sort of homework. Right now, watching the two men interact, you vaguely remembered reading about another son of his.

“Are you okay?” you ask, feeling a little hollow.

Even though you face people like Leo every day at work, it feels different, alien, to have an encounter - for Markus to have an encounter - at your home, your safe space.

He nods, but it doesn’t put you at ease. He lets Leo into his apartment, and as he closes his door, you do the same, and slide down it, sitting with your knees tucked in tight to your chest, heartbeat hammering in your ears. While the thoughts ran through your head, you felt your stomach drop, a fear that you hadn’t felt for a while taking root.

You hadn’t felt this way for anyone in a long time.

Later that night, you’re on the cusp of sleep after the evening worrying when your phone buzzes. Fast, you grasp at it, reading a preview of a text from Markus’ number on screen, and in a ballet of texting, you type back, until you stare at the last message he sends, your fingers lingering over the screen, and as you reply, feeling something you’re not used to.

---

It’s about a week later, and you haven’t really heard from Markus. To be fair, you’ve been bogged down in the coursework of your classes and being bumped up to supervisor by your boss. It’s one way that he’s fair but cruel; the pay isn’t that much different, and it means you’re around to either lock up or open when he’s not around.

You saw Markus for five minutes in the hallway, as he was returning from work, you off to it, and apart from the fact that he looked quite handsome in his grey hoodie, you barely shared words. From what you overheard through the walls was that Leo was still around.

It didn’t make you feel any better. You sure didn’t sleep well at night.

But that could just be because of your shitty mattress, you thought, massaging your back idly. It’s a slow night, with customers few and far between. It might be because of the weather, or the night; it’s bucketing down on an idle Tuesday evening, the sunset to leave the post-daylight hour left to the imagination, or consultation of a clock. Usually, customers come in to escape the rain, but seeing it’s well after rush hour, you’re just as tired as the last patron - fifteen minutes ago, in such a rush they didn’t say please and thank you or look you in the eye - and want to close up.

Alas, there’s half an hour to go.

There’s only so many times you can clean a cleaned bench, face up the snacks when they haven’t been touched, tidy up the change in the register until it looks immaculate. You give one of the security cameras in the corner of the room a half-hearted smile, knowing that the boring night wouldn’t be glanced at on tape.

That was when it happened.

You heard a bang, and turning to the noise, you saw, almost too late, the window shatter, and a car plough through the front doors of the store. You dove below the register, but it was a reaction, and you felt the sting of flying glass. But the car kept going, and defiant of structures, the roaring engine forced its way further into the store, ramming into the bench you hid behind.

You’d seen enough movies to know what was going to happen next, but still, it shocked you when a single hand pulled you upwards by the back of your shirt. Manhandled, you stared at a poorly made balaclava and handgun.

Your hands were slow, the side of your arm staring to bleed from where it caught glass, but you didn’t feel it. You trembled, feeling the gun pressed against your head, heart racing so fast that you felt like a piñata that would break all by itself. You passed the bills to the robber holding you, fearful, afraid. The gun was still pressed, albeit not as hard, but no matter what, there was a gun, and it was at you. You’d never liked them and weren’t about to start liking them now.

“A-are you going t-to kill me?” you stammered.

The man behind the balaclava smirked, that much you could see. He let go of the back of your shirt, stuffing the money into a bag a cartoon villain or the Monopoly Man and looked you in the eye. They were blue and wild, and you caught your breath as soon as you recognised the voice of the guy holding you, and the store at gunpoint.

“I could,” Leo taunted.

Even if he did, there was a button under the counter. Your boss had installed it in hopes of it not being used because he was the kind of man who’d do the bare minimum to save his ass. You managed to snag it; fingers pressed in as soon as you started talking. It was against the training, stalling a theft, because it meant you were at stake as opposed to the items being thieved, but in your fear, in your anguish of realising it was Markus’ brother behind the mask, all of that made you do it.

The whines of police arriving made Leo freeze, and he hesitated, caught between fight or flight. The car he had bludgeoned the storefront with was totalled, and his finger hovered over the trigger, one spasm away from your certain doom. But that didn’t come. The last you saw was the butt of the gun come down on your head.

You came to on the back of an ambulance.

The paramedic had wrapped you in a shock blanket, fussing over your superficial wounds. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol wipe that brought you to, or that you heard your name. But when you look, there’s nobody you know. It’s a haze but you see your boss has been dragged out at the late hour, and there are so many flashing lights and people talking around you, at you, to you that you’re not sure if it is your head wound or an oncoming migraine.

They let you go after you stop shaking.  

---

When you get home, you can’t hear any ambient noise. It’s eerie, almost, but then again, before Markus moved in, it was the norm. Even as you follow the usual rituals for the evening, turning the TV on in the background, you can’t help but feel like you’ve walked in a cold spot, and can’t shake off the shiver.

That night, you fall into a restless sleep. In fact, in all the next fortnight, it’s the same. You ache every day, some from the ghost of pain that followed, but most for Markus. It’s hard, because you had started to fall for him, slowly and surely, and now, following the incident, you heard not a word. The fear creeps in, and you feel like he’s left you. Sided with the brother who left you with a concussion, and therapy sessions you can’t afford.

Left you to your lonely heart. That longed…for him.

It’s almost a month since the incident when you open your door to music at eight one morning. Markus’ door is wedged open with an unopened sack of rice, and your heart flutters. You pause at the threshold, caught - but at that moment you are seen. You catch Markus’ eye, and you turn to leave.

“Wait,” he called out.

Despite yourself, you did. Markus looked good, but then, he always did. His shirt is a patterned button-down, and his jeans are cuffed, feet bare upon his floorboards. There’s no hairband around his hair, and it hangs loose, the locs long, long enough to brush against his collar.

“You -,” the words die on your lips.

“I know you’ll never forgive me,” Markus stalls at his doorway, biting his lip, upset. “but I let him in, and he - fuck,” he wipes a hand over his face. “If you don’t want to speak -,”

“I missed - I miss you,” the words tumble out.

The emotions you wear on your sleeve are wiped across your face so plain to see. Oh, if you were a hero in a novel, doomed to be plagued by feelings and things that darkened the skies, it would be worth it only if Markus was there, and here he was, he was here, and you felt almost sickeningly happy, afraid of the joy inside you.

“I’ve been in New York, helping Dad with the case against - I would’ve never left but it was the last straw. I -,” you blink, unsure of what you’re witnessing. Markus is stammering over his words too, almost nervous. He’s never been, in front of you; he was a saviour to the lost in the foster system, a pillar of strength and example of handsomeness, but never unconfident. And yet, here he was. “I’ll cook dinner for you tonight, if you -,”

“I’d love that,” you reply, too quick.

But too quick is not quick enough, and Markus smiles. “Are you allergic to anything?” he asks.

“No,” you reply. “But I think I’m into you.”

He crosses the hallway, and you meet him halfway. It’s almost clumsy, the way you fall into each other’s arms; it’s not like a Hallmark movie or something where Margot Robbie and some piece of eye candy look so dashing upon a movie poster. They don’t hold a torch against Markus.

“That’s strange,” he says, his mouth close to your face, breath hot in your hair, “I feel the same way.”

Life isn’t a movie, it’s real life, and Markus and you are just people. Ordinary people who managed to find each other in the chaos of life. If anything, Markus is a corner piece, and you are the spot beside which slots right in. The puzzle is complete now. The picture is clear, with answers, dinner, and sweeter things than each other’s touch on the horizon, between you, and the man who moved into the apartment across the hall.

[lukeysgirl]

swallow me whole | c.t.h pt. 2

synopsis: nasty calum hood smut w a decent storyline? pt 2: another party but on a cruise ship. 

word count: 12k+ 

authors note: a long but good read, i pinkie swear! got a few lovies in my taglist, but i dont be doing tglists too much. i just wanna write and whoever gets to see it, sees it. enjoy! <3 

part 1 here

PART 2 S O L I C I T A T I O N 

The next mornings sun kindly kissed you awake. 

An incredible warmth was bestowed upon your shoulder as you slightly turned over. You slowly began opening your eyes, subconsciously bringing your hands up to wipe away the dried tears. A yawn escapes your dry lips, forcing your body to sit up and lick them moist. Seeing as it was now daytime, you were pleasantly shocked at how nice the room truly looked. 

It was a very modern looking room. White walls with black wood drawers and such things to compliment. You looked down to see that the sheets, too, were black and white. But they were silky smooth and catering to your skin, as you were enveloped in a comfy fantasy. But paintings were hung around the room to give the yin-yang room several splashes of color. 

You also realized you were placed into the bed much properly compared to where you had went out cold last night. You looked over to the unoccupied space of the bed, wondering where Calum had gone. Turning over to the bedside table, you noticed that your phone sat nicely at the corner of it. Tapping it awake, it illuminate several notifications that you did not want to deal with. 

“Nope,” you groaned, flipping the phone over so you could stretch. You reach for the sky, comforting your bones before removing the blanket from your warm body. But when you looked down at your legs, you crinkle your nose in disgust. Your dress and body was cum-stained, seeing as you essentially slept in hormones. “Fuck me...” 

You look around once more, noticing that the door to the room was closed. Shrugging, you get on your feet and slowly peel the skimpy dress from your body. It was difficult, considering you needed someone elses help to put it on and take it off, but you managed. You then replace it with the blanket, covering your body while holding onto each ends of it. Wings, you thought to yourself with a smile. 

The morning sun caught your attention, your feet treading lightly on the carpet. You walk over to the large glass wall, basking in the beauty of the city. It would seem dull to people who prefer the city in the night, but the beauty of it was not exclusively nocturnal. The day time, too, compliments how tall the skyscrapers truly were, and the Hudson River that ran through it all. 

You suddenly heard the door open behind you, and a deep, “oh, you’re awake.” Turning around, you see a groggy Calum Hood stand at the doorway. He had still been in the outfit from last night, but his cock wasn’t out and about. His face looked better then when the two of you were at the bar, but he wasn’t smiling. You look down to see his hands offering a steaming mug. “I made you a cup of tea for your throat.” 

You completely forgot about the two times he face fucked you. He walks over and hands it to you, in which to measly hold it with your blanket-covered hands, “thank you so much.” Brown eyes watch as you take a long swig of the tea. It was chamomile, and saccharine from what tasted like honey. It was just cool enough to drink and you smiled from the sensation. 

“Better?” He asks softly. 

You nod, “much, thank you.” Calum nods, giving you a small smile. You kept taking little sips, relieving your throat from its soreness. Calum looks over to see your dress sprawled on the floor, having him look over with a bit of concern. 

“Did I ruin your dress?” He walks over and picks it up. “I’m so sorry.” You shake your head, attempting to convince him that it was nothing. “Let me find you some clothes to wear for the meantime. I’ll give you the money to get this washed properly-- it must be expensive.” 

You watch the man disappear from the room as you continued to quietly sip your tea. He’s kind, you thought. That attitude you were introduced to when you met him was completely shadowed by his consideration. Calum Hood seemed like a nice guy, and he was pretty good in bed, too. His dominance took you aback, never having been in such a position. 

A vanilla night isn’t bad, but what Calum had done to you was beyond words. The way he took control of you, and used your body to his liking while still pleasuring you was so sexy. His lips were like nicotine, and his body was enthralling. You just wanted more and more. 

But you realized that this was probably a one-time thing, and you likely weren’t going to do anything else with him again. The thought made you pout, but you were glad you weren’t hooked. Liking someone would put a dent in your career. But you were sad to think that you’ll be remembering this for the rest of your life and he was going to forget all about you in hours. 

Your sorrow thoughts came to a halt though when Calum returned to the room with hands full of things. He had a black towel, an outfit, and hygiene things. “I figured maybe you would like to take a shower?” 

You smile, nodding graciously. You traded the empty mug for the morning bundle and held it happily. “You’re the nicest one-night I’ve ever met, thank you so much...” Calum frowned by your words but quickly regained himself. He held the mug a little more tightly. 

“I’ll take this to the kitchen,” he muttered, “the bathroom is to the left of this room, you’ll see it.” You nod, watching wondrously as the man left the room and headed off to who knows where. You put the bundle down on the bed and slip off the blanket. You wouldn’t want to bring that whole thing into the bathroom with you. 

Quickly, you grabbed your phone and rushed into the bathroom. Locking the door, you looked around to see how large the bathroom was. It was essentially the same amount of space as your entire apartment. Everything was of porcelain and granite, with metallic bathroom features such as the faucet and shower head. But the sink was just a flat rock, the shower could fit an entire bed, and there was a bath if you cared to use it. 

You placed your bundle down on the sink and turned on the shower. You looked at yourself in the mirror and widened your eyes. Your makeup was somewhat in tact, with a bit of mascara dragged below your eyes. But what really caught your eye were all the hickeys ornate on your neck. You leaned it, lightly touching them with your fingers. There was even a bit of dried up cum on your collarbones from it dripping from your lips. 

“Geez,” you sighed, shaking your head as you decide to distract yourself momentarily with your phone. Texts from Meri had spread like wildfire. She messaged you through iMessage, Twitter, Instagram, and even Facebook. You felt immensely bad for worrying her, as those texts were complimented by several missed calls. 

You walk over to the shower, noticing a plastic holder that was meant to use your phone. Deciding to call her back, you put it on speaker and slip the phone in the protector. Two rings later, and you hear an abrupt, “Y/N!” 

You cower, “hi, Meri...” 

“Where the fuck are you?” Your best friend screamed through the phone. “I’m so fucking worried about you-- send me your location!” 

“Meri, I’m fine, everything is okay!” You insisted, grabbing the bottle of body wash. You lather it all over your body, removing your upper body and thighs of the dried up cum. “I... hooked up with someone last night.” 

“Yeah, I know!” She squealed, but didn’t seem as excited about it. “They figured out that it was you who went home with Calum Hood.” 

Your eyes were wide, “how was that possible? I had my face covered the entire time he was escorting us out!” 

“Yes but you didn’t have your face covered when I was escorting you in,” Meri explains with a sigh. You sucked your teeth, realizing her point. “They’re at my apartment looking for you.” 

“You’re kidding.” 

“I’m not.”

Fuck. You reach over for the plastic cap Calum provided you and covered your hair. Meri was already mad enough; you didn’t want her getting mad at you for ruining your hair. “I’m so sorry Meri, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” 

“I’m not upset, don’t worry about that,” Meri hums. “I’m just worried about you. Calum Hood is the bass player for 5 Seconds of Summer, if you didn’t know.” 5 Seconds of Summer? 

“All he told me was that he was a bass player of a band,” you informed her as you washed away the Old Spice body wash. “Are they a big band?” 

“I’ve played several songs of theirs before, Y/N,” Meri begins. “Do you not pay attention?” You deny recalling anything because you genuinely can’t remember. “Y/N, they’re a boyband. Their following is mainly a bunch of young girls whose ovaries pop for them.” 

You chuckle at her words but knew she had been serious. “I didn’t intend to hook up with anyone. But you were busy and you know I don’t talk with other celebrities. He just sort of showed up and we had a good conversation.”

“I know babe, I’m not mad,” Meri coos softly. She had always been so understanding, and you knew a small smile had spread on her lips. “He’s a chill guy, we’ve talked a few times before.”

You agreed, “he was very considerate. He brought me tea this morning and lent me his bathroom.”

“No wonder why you sound so weird!” Meri exclaimed. You giggled, “so... was he good?” Her voice suddenly calmed down and had been full of curiosity. You felt your cheeks flush, the shower steam making it worse. 

“He’s... really good,” you emit quietly. “I’ve never been with anyone like him.”

“He’s a top, for sure,” Meri predicted, “he gives off that Christian Grey vibe, doesn’t he?” You have no idea... “Did he hang you from the ceiling or something?” 

“Jesus Christ, Meri, no!” You waved at the phone. “He isn’t that perverted I don’t think.” As you washed yourself, you patted your chest and realized that Calum didn’t touch them. “He didn’t touch my chest at all last night.”

“Really?” Meri sounded just as confused. You cupped your breasts in self-consciousness. “I don’t know how he could resist them; they’re so cute!” You blushed, giving them a reassuring pat. 

“Maybe he isn’t a boob guy,” you put the idea out there. “He liked my butt more than my boobies.” Meri giggles. 

“Fuck it; he would have had too much fun with them anyways.” Meri was always great in reassuring you and regaining your confidence. “Anyways, send me your location so I can send someone to pick you up.” 

“It’s okay, I’ll take the subway back to yours,” you insisted. “You aren’t too far anyways.” You turn off the shower and reach for the towel. “Plus, nobody knows where he lives so I don’t want to just out his address like that.” 

“Well aren’t you sweet?” Meri boasted with a sugary tongue. “Fair enough. I’ll see you soon, okay? Make sure you eat something.” 

“Mm, I will, mom,” you agreed as you dabbed your body dry. “See you soon, love you.” 

“Love you too!” 

The call ends and you reach in to take your phone out. You felt like a brand new woman, with your skin emanating the smell of man. Giggling at this, you put the phone on the sink and finish drying yourself. You pull off the shower cap from your head as well. You noticed that Calum also provided a brand new stick of male deodorant. It was sweet of him to let you use one of his new sticks, even though you were going to smell just like him now. 

You lift up the shirt he provided you and looked at it. It was a large black dress shirt. Which was the worst choice, considering how sunny and warm it was out. But nonetheless, you appreciated the kindness and buttoned it up. It was big, but you managed to make it fit. You then pick up a pair of boxers that you were pretty sure he accidentally shrunk. It hugged your body kindly and you felt comfortable. He provided a pair of sweats as well but you were pretty warm from the hot shower you just took. 

After brushing your teeth, you the bathroom with your things and walk back into the bedroom. You place everything on the bed to tackle one thing at a time. You hung the towel from one of the hooks behind his door and placed the hygiene things as well as the sweatpants on his bedside table. You also took it upon yourself to do his bed as gratitude for his kindness. 

After doing all of that, you grab your phone, your dirtied panties, and your shoes and head out the room in search for Calum. The daytime gave you the opportunity to notice how lovely his apartment was. It was clean and ornate with photos of him and people you could recognize. Actors and musicians would smile pleasantly with him, allowing you to safely assume that he’s had a good time. 

Your feet carefully walk on the polished wood, admiring the simplicity that was his apartment. He clearly didn’t care to fill it much. You find yourself out of the hall and into the living room. It was huge, but a voice beckoned you over to give it much of a look. 

“Oh hey, you’re done,” Calum hummed. He was in the kitchen, with a spoon in one hand and a frying pan in the other. “Come come. Take a seat.” He glances back to gesture at the seats by the kitchen island. You take the offer and place your things on the chair beside you. Your thighs flourish in goosebumps when your skin touched the cool wood of the seat. 

“Your bathroom is very pretty by the way,” you begin quietly. “I’m jealous.” 

“You think so?” Calum took the compliment with a smile. “Did you have a good shower?” He steals looks over to you to see you nod. “I’m glad. Pressure is good?” 

“It was perfect, I promise,” you insisted, tapping your phone with the tip of your fake nails. You hear the sizzling of the pan, which made you curious. “Is that bacon I smell?” 

“Mm, you like bacon?” Calum glances back and smiles teasingly. “You can have as many as you’d like.” 

“I’ll just have a strip or two,” you downplay quietly. You then shyly look away, tapping on the granite tabletop. “Or five.” Calum chuckles at your silliness, and continued to cook. He decided on a simple breakfast of bacon, toast, and scrambled eggs. Only because he didn’t have too much food in the fridge, considering he was always eating out. 

“I really only eat breakfast anyways,” he explains. He shuts off the stove and places a full plate before you. You watch him place another plate across from you and head back to grab two glass cups and a pitcher full of orange juice. “We have apple juice and water if you don’t like orange juice.” 

“I’m not picky,” you insist. He smiles at you as you immediately dig in and take a bite of the toast. “This is the nicest breakfast I’ve had in a while so I appreciate it.” Calum places the two cups down and serves you a glass. 

“I take it you don’t eat much for breakfast?” 

“More like I don’t have the time for breakfast,” you admit sheepishly. “With school and work, I don’t really think much about it. I just brew a quick cup of coffee and I’ll be on my way.” 

Calum hums in comprehension. “So what about the weekends? You seem to have enough time right now.” 

“Well, I already finished all my homework and I have most weekends off,” you informed him. You stab a few pieces of egg and put it in your mouth. You chew quickly to continue talking, “and I didn’t have to make it this time so yeah, I have a pretty good amount of time on my hands.” 

He smirks at your words and nods. “By the way, I didn’t know you were Merigold’s plus one.” You nodded. “I should have known; you two give off the same nice and down-to-earth vibe.” 

“We get that a lot,” you say while taking another bite of bacon. “But she’s much prettier than me.” Calum snorts, causing you to furrow your brows. “Something funny, Calum?” 

“The fact that you think she’s prettier than you,” Calum begins quietly. His eyes stay on the plate, barely moving the pieces of egg with his fork. “It’s just a little funny.” 

“But she is.” 

Calum crinkled his nose and shook his head, “nah. Merigold is beautiful; nobody can deny she’s not.” He then lifts his head up, those deep brown eyes shooting arrows directly at your heart. “But she isn’t as gorgeous as you.” 

You roll your eyes, “you’re just saying that to be nice.” Calum shrugs while continuing to dig in. Your heart is absolutely racing now, the compliment making you think more than ever. He thinks I’m gorgeous? More so than Meri? He must be joking. 

After the delicious breakfast and the bit of chitchat, you took it upon yourself to help Calum clean the dishes. “You really don’t need to,” he tried to stop you but you were relentless and continued to clean the plates. It allowed Calum to finish the cycle of the laundry and put them in the dryer. 

“By the way,” Calum started as he came from the laundry room of his house, “I took it upon myself to wash your dress.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you turned over, clearly in shock of his kindness. “I could have gone to the laundromat and done it myself.” 

“Well, you’re doing my dishes so I guess we’re even,” Calum gave you a wink before returning to set up the dryer. You blushed. This one night stand was straight out of a fantasy book written for middle-aged women. 

As you’re finishing up, you grab a towel to dry your wrinkled fingers. You turn to look for Calum, who walked back into the room slowly. He had a bundle of papers in his hand, clearly focused on the words printed on them. He suddenly looked stressed out, like the papers contained paragraphs of bad news. 

“I finished the dishes,” you sounded, having him look over and give you a smile. 

“Thank you so much,” Calum spoke softly. His voice had reduced to a more hush tone. His eyes were suddenly cloudy; he looked distraught. He sniffled a little bit before placing the papers down on the counter. “Anyways, when do you want to leave? I can take you home.” 

He was no longer the Calum behind the stove making the two of you breakfast. He was last nights Calum, with all the stress returned from the bar. “Don’t worry, I can take the subway back,” you insisted. You dried off your hands and headed straight for the laundry room. 

“Where are you going?” Calum called to you. 

You pulled your dress out from the dryer (which had dried extremely quickly) and changed. You left the clothing you borrowed in his hamper and embarrassingly slipped on your dirty panties. You return to him and grab your shoes from beside him that was on the chair. You bent down and slipped the on, knowing that the man’s eyes were on you. But doing this motion finally made you realize about your knees. 

“Oh.” Your thumbs rub along the scrapes and bruises that made themselves at home on your knees. They were blue and purple and red, and finally began to sting as soon as you paid attention to them. 

“Y/N, let me--” Calum started but you raised your hand and shook your head. 

“I’m good.” You grabbed your phone and remembered your strap that was still in the room. But you weren’t pressed about it as kept it in hand and headed straight for the door. 

“Y/N!” Calum called for you but you were already out the door. And he chose not to follow. 

XXX

Meri, like the good best friend she was, managed to get the building staff to sneak you in from the back. You swiftly followed her through the prohibited corridors and made it safely back into her apartment. The paparazzi remained outside like angry bees, waiting to pester you for details. 

“So much for covering my face,” you sighed in annoyance. You plopped yourself on Meri’s gray couch in defeat and slipped off your shoes. Meri closes the door and joins you. “Now they’re going to bother me for a while.” 

“I think you’ll be okay,” Meri hums as she toys with a strand of your hair. “Clevver news has you covered.” 

You express a puzzled look as Meri pulls out her phone and taps away. With a video now open, she turns her phone horizontally and holds it before the both of you. You watch attentively to see one of the Clevver reporters begin the daily scoop of gossip. 

“’Last night, bass player Calum Hood left last nights celebrity gathering pretty early, hand in hand with a woman in a red dress,’” the reporter says quickly. “’The woman, though, had been identified early this morning when pictures of the same woman in the red dress had first arrived to the party with best friend Merigold Leigh.’” 

Meri sucks her teeth, “they spelled my name wrong in the captions.” 

“’The woman, known as Y/N Y/L/N, was her best friends plus one last night at the party in downtown, New York. This has reportedly been the first time seeing Y/N going out with her best friend to this kind of outing.’“ 

“I mean,” Meri begins, “they aren’t lying.” 

“‘Coincidentally though,’“ the reporter begins with a smirk, “‘her first night out ended pretty quickly when 5 Seconds of Summer’s Calum Hood escorts her out and drive them away. Could this have been by coincidence or planned?’“ 

You scoff at the phone. “I’ve never met this man until last night! What the fuck is she on about?” Meri shrugs but insists that you watch the remainder of the video. 

“‘But she could also simply be one of the many woman Calum has been taking home since his arrival to New York a week ago,’“ the reporter informs. “‘Since his arrival, he has been out every night and has a different woman each time.” 

“Ah,” you begin. “He’s a fuckboy.” You push away Meri’s phone and sigh. “Great, fucking wonderful.” 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

“I let him fuck me raw,” you resign into your hands. “I probably have herpes or some shit now.” Meri quickly raised her phone and started looking through her contacts. “Meri, what are you--?” 

“Sh!” She pressed a finger against your lips. “Let me do what I do.”

After 2 rings, someone picked up and Meri was on attack mode, “Luke, I have a question or two and you’re going to answer, ‘kay?” 

You watched as she put the call on speaker and you heard a man’s voice, “geez, okay.” He sounded similar to Calum, but not as sexy. His voice was indeed hoarse but it was more clean and lighter. 

“Is Calum with you?” Meri blurted out. You slapped your forehead with your hand, taken aback by Meri’s audacity. 

“Oh yeah, I just got to his apartment,” the man, Luke, answered. “D’you want me to pass the phone to him?” 

“Yup.” 

A bit of ruffling noise later, Calum’s voice sounded through, “hello?” 

“Calum, do you have an STD?” Meri went straight to the point. You wanted to melt from the embarrassment, but you knew she had to do whatever it takes to reassure you. That’s what best friends are for after all.

“No, why?” 

“Because you fucked my best friend raw and she’s worried you might’ve given her a fuckboy disease.” Calum chuckles through the phone. 

“Let her know she has nothing to worry about,” Calum assured, though the both of you weren’t too convinced. “I promise.” 

Meri’s green eyes look into yours, shrugging at his words. You couldn’t tell if he was being honest or not because you’ve only known this man for a few hours. Meri decides that he’s in the clear and sighs, “whatever you say, Hood. But if she gets checked and they find something, I’m going after you.” 

“I give you full permission,” Calum chuckles again. “Anyways, was that all?” 

Meri was fuming from how lightly he was taking her, but you decided to takeover. Grabbing the phone from her hand, you put it close to your mouth and grin, “that’s all, Calum. Thank you!” 

“Oh, Y/N!” Calum enthusiastically cheers. “Did you get back safe? I didn’t catch your number so I couldn’t ask.” Your cheeks tinted pink from his consideration. Meri shoved your shoulder gently. 

“I’m fine,” you reply. “We’ll stop wasting your time now. Bye bye.” Calum began a breath as though he wanted to say another word, but you hung up before he had the chance. You hand the phone back to Meri and shake your head. “Who’s Luke?”

“Oh, Luke?” You nod. “That’s one of Calum’s band mates; Luke Hemmings. He’s the lead singer.” You nod, taking this information in. “When we go out tonight, I’ll point him out for you. He’s blonde with blue--” 

“I ain’t going out tonight,” you immediately dismissed. Meri looked at you in shock but you quickly stopped her, “this was enough fun for a weekend. I don’t want to be another celebrities one night.” 

“You won’t be if you don’t follow them,” Meri scolded. “Just stay with me.” 

“I don’t know if you’re gonna disappear on me again or not,” you dropped your hands on your thighs. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

“What, did Calum do something to you?” Meri asked worriedly. You shook your head, “then why won’t you go?”

“I don’t want to deal with the paparazzi,” you sighed in annoyance. “I’m in the gossip and that’s not what I want. You can deal with fame but I can’t. I just want to go back to being an irrelevant NYU student who only studies and drinks coffee.” 

“Well, we’re too late for that,” Meri replies. Her hands snake under your head and tilts it so you’d be facing her. “The paparazzi aren’t going to know about this party.” 

“Mm?” You furrow your brows in confusion. “Why not?”

“Because we weren’t supposed to talk about it and it’s not an easily accessible place,” Meri informs you with a smirk. You were still confused, but she quickly opens the small drawer of the coffee table and reveals two tickets. “The party is on a cruise ship.” 

XXX

“Meri, I don’t like water too much,” you say in a panicked tone. 

Before the both of you was a huge, egg-white ship. It was brightly lit up and parked right by the bay of Chelsea Piers. You’ve always seen many boats parked there, but you’ve never had the opportunity to get on one. Not that you cared for missing out-- boats weren’t your favorite vehicles. 

“There are no sharks in the Hudson River, Y/N,” Meri rolls her eyes. You two were linked by arms as you walked closer and closer to the boarding dock. Security surrounded you two, but Meri wasn’t wrong. There were no paparazzi in sight. 

“There was a whale in here a little bit ago,” you chime in. She shoves you playfully. 

“Stop being a wuss,” Meri said aggressively, having you suck your teeth at her. “Even then, if you really want to get off, there are speed boats surrounding the cruise and they’re on hold for calls every second.” 

You sighed. It was reassuring, but you still weren’t to excited about it. The boat itself was immensely intimidating and you felt immensely self-conscious with your outfit. 

Because there were going to be several pools, Meri forced a black one-piece bathing suit on you. It hugged your curves nicely, and had a very low v-neck so the inner sides of your breasts shower. You also had a pair of white booty shorts pulled on, which were short enough that the bottom of your ass cheeks showed. Hair was tied up and heels were hugging your feet kindly. You were embarrassed, but denying Meri had been hard nowadays. 

“This is gonna suck,” you sighed. You were glad that you didn’t have too many accessories on this time, but this outfit made you feel so exposed. You told Meri that you had no intention to get into any pool, but she wanted you to dress properly. “I already hate it.” 

“Shush!” Meri hushed you. All you could do was groan as the sound of the highway by the bay sounded with humming cars and honks. You walked passed lit up sidewalk lamps and made your way over to the boarding area. Celebrities of all forms were waiting around in groups, likely waiting for others before getting into the cruise. 

The two of you get in line, security still surrounding you as the staff in charge of boarding people had been walking down the line to check everyone in faster. Meri handed the tickets to the staff member, who poked holes in them before returning them back to her. Meri handed you one and instructed that you don’t lose it. You listen and immediately fold it and put it in the pocket of your phone case. 

Your anxiety rose as you two crossed the board walk, which was covered in a red carpet. You two enter the lavish cruise ship, which were ornate with golden lights and pictures of famous people on said cruise. Staff had sprawled all around, walking around the celebrities with plates of sushi and other finger foods. 

Meri guided you to the heart of the ship, which looked as extravagant as the Titanic at its time. A huge chandelier hung right above you with a large set of stairs that guided the two of you up stairs to one of the outer levels of the cruise. Meri was so excited that she dashed up and almost fell a few times. She was lucky you held her, or else her face would have met the floor by now. 

“Beautiful!” Meri squealed as you two finally reached where the party was. The pools seemed infinite as lights were installed in them and illuminated right out of the chlorine water. There were people everywhere in bathing suits, either dancing in the water or grinding on one another dry. You weren’t really sure how to react but you decided to focus on the excited ginger holding your arm. 

“This ship is huge,” you comment, basking in the largeness and luminous entity that was the cruise. You look over at the main component of the cruise, seeing several doors and people walking around. “What’s over there?” 

“Do you not know how a cruise works, Y/N?” Meri asked curiously. “Everyone is assigned a room if you want to stay overnight. Our rooms are right next to each other.” 

You frown, “why couldn’t we just share a room? It seems wasteful to give a room to someone like me.” 

“Because,” Meri began quietly. A huge grin touching ear to ear formed and she tapped her lips with her free hand. “There’s someone I want to spend the night with.” 

“Gross,” you shake your head, “and I’m gonna have to sleep right next to that. Geez, Meri...” 

“Or maybe not?” She raised the pitch of her voice. You raise an eyebrow towards her as she begins to guide you around the pools. “I want to sleep with a member in this band and lucky for me; its a two man band.” 

“Oh is it now?” You ask in a monotone voice. 

Meri nods her head happily as she walks you passed the bunches of people. She greets the people you pass with a back pat and a happy ‘hi!’ before reaching one of the many large Jacuzzi’s. And, to your surprise, you saw more than 2 people in there. 

“Aye, Meri!” Although your ears heard one thing, your eyes were looking at a completely different individual. At the farthest point of the Jacuzzi from where you stood was Calum Hood, with a woman sitting on him. You decide to find the face to the voice before indulging in the bassist’s exposure. 

“Lukey-poo!” Meri lets you go to quickly dip into the pool to meet the blonde man half way. The white boy with blonde curls was pretty cute, with a dashing smile and heart-melting blue eyes. He seemed genuinely content to see your best friend as the two hugged one another. “How are you?” 

“I’m good; it’s so good to see you!” Oh, you realized. This is Luke, Calum’s band mate. You watch with a curt smile as the two were only thighs deep in the water, holding each other and exchanging the quickest set of words. He turned her a bit to see four other boys who were sat in the Jacuzzi, beers in hands and all smiles. 

“Ashton! Michael!” The largest man there stood up first, water dripping down his toned body. You bit your bottom lip as you watched the unnaturally red-haired man stand and give your friend an airhug. “Ashton, you can hug me; I’m not scared of water.” 

“Maybe not you, but your phone definitely is,” the built man, Ashton, joked. He turned over to meet your eyes as Meri continued to hug the other man beside him who you assumed was Michael. “I take it you are Merigold’s best friend, yes?” 

You nod shyly, watching as he moves through the water and offers you a hand. “I’m Y/N.” Ashton smiles as you shake his hand. “And wow, your hand is huge.” 

Ashton bursts into a joyful laugh. He, too, owned the broken Australian accent that Calum and Luke own. He must be part of the band, too. “I get that a lot. Will you be joining us this evening, Y/N?” 

“I’ve got nowhere else to go as soon as this cruise starts going, so,” you joked, having Ashton emit yet another hardy laugh. You smiled, noticing that Ashton didn’t let your hand go. 

“Come come, join us in the water,” Ashton insisted, in which you politely declined at first. But Ashton gives your hand a squeeze, his intoxicating hazel eyes practically begging you. “It’s warm, and there’s absolutely no sharks.” 

You snorted, with Meri looking back to laugh at Ashton’s reassuring strategy. You think for a brief moment before resigning and wiggling down your shorts as well as removing your heels. Holding it in your free hand, Ashton held your hand and helped you down carefully. He walked you over to the rest of the boys, who of which Meri had been ogling one of them. 

He’s the one she wants to fuck. But as you came closer and closer, you realized that the two man band had been people you recognized. “Oh shit,” you emit under your breath, “you guys are the Chainsmokers, right?” The two boys leaning against the rim of the Jacuzzi smile and chuckle at your reaction. 

“Nice to meet you,” the raven-haired man start, plopping his hand out from the water to offer it to you. “I’m Alex, and this over here is Drew.” You shake his hand first, realizing that this was the man Meri wanted to hook you up with while she took the dirty blonde man that also held his hand out. 

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” you smile while shaking hands with Drew right after. “I watched you guys win that Grammy a bit ago; congratulations on your success.” 

“Thank you so much,” Alex replies with a gracious smile. He gestures you over to sit beside him, with Ashton calling a server over to bring you a beer. It was this moment that you realized how kind a few celebrities can be. You take a seat beside Alex, with Drew beside him and Meri right next to him. The warm water relaxed your body as Ashton and Michael decide to stand in front of you all to make conversation easier. 

Michael introduces himself, in which you shake his hand happily. “I apologize that our bass player isn’t respectful.” You giggle as Luke comes over to join. “But you’ve got the lead singer, lead guitarist.” He pats his wet chest, “and the drummer.” He points at Ashton, who smiles contently. 

“Maybe you all can sing me a little something later,” you tease, as Luke looks over at the other boys. 

“I mean, I’m pretty pitch perfect right now,” Michael downplays, shrugging as you got distracted very quickly by how pale the boy was and how much ink was ornate around his body. “My voice is solely ready for Jet Black though.” 

Ashton laughs at him and shakes his head, “last chorus though?” Michael nods vigorously. “Yeah, alright. Luke?” The blonde boy also nods. They then look over at Calum, who was unsurprisingly making out with the woman on him. “Calum!” 

He pulls away from the girl and looks your way, immediately engaging with your eyes. There was a sort of longing and interest in his eyes that you couldn’t quite understand. His large hands that once held the woman’s waist under the water was now resting on the outer rim of the Jacuzzi that he was leaning against. His head was tilted up, having you ravish in his toned torso and how sharp his jawline was. 

“What?” His voice, deep and raspy, asked in annoyance. His eyes redirect to face meet with Ashton’s. “Can’t you see I’m busy?” 

“Can’t you see we have a guest?” Ashton points at you while still glaring at the bass player. “I think you two have met before.” 

“Huh?” He asked, his words licked with confusion. “Who?” 

You raised your eyebrows in shock. You didn’t know this man enough to be insulted, but you were surprised at his audacity. After face fucking you twice, eating you out, and ramming inside you for his climax, he suddenly doesn’t know who you are. You snorted, your hand feeling the hickeys ornate on your neck. He gave you tea, made you breakfast and washed the dress he had soiled. I misjudged you, you thought. You’re a prick. 

“I think it’ll sound just as good regardless if he joins in or not,” you immediately commented, rolling your eyes before looking back at Ashton with a smile. Meri snorted and muttered a ‘get fucked’ under her breath as she takes a swig of her beer. She passes you one, in which her happily take. “Please serenade me?” 

“Your wish shall be our command,” Ashton winks before looking over at Michael. The green-eyed boy clears his throat before he begun to sing. When he finishes his line, Ashton and Luke join in and they all harmonize. The way their voices complimented one another was impressive and you were pleasantly surprised. They’re really good. 

When they finished, everyone around who heard gave them an applause. You clapped against your bottle of beer, genuinely impressed by their voices. “Wow, can’t wait to add you guys to my Spotify.” 

They all laugh while bowing towards the crowd. You took a swig of your beer and engaged in conversation with the boys. 

XXX

A half hour passes, and you were all giggles. Michael had been telling you about how he was happily engaged and even showed you his band. Luke, Meri, Alex, and Drew decided to go participate in the surfing that they were conducting on the other side of the large cruise. Michael, soon after finishing his obsession with his lover Crystal, he received a text from her, inviting him over to her suite. 

That left just you and Ashton. 

“Ah no, we write some of the silliest shit sometimes,” Ashton explains through a fit of laughter. “We haven’t dated much in the first few years of our career and we wrote so much lovey dovey shit.” 

“I mean listen,” you tried to ease, “I’ll keep it a buck with you; that’s the stuff that sells.” 

Ashton nodded, “you’re absolutely right. That’s the shit that sells.” Ashton was right beside you, shoulders touching but he had the respect to keep from making any moves or overstepping. You could tell he had a surface-level interest in you, but he wasn’t intending to force himself on you. “Now, the band has changed completely.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Luke’s dating Sierra,” Ashton began as he looked into the distance. “Fucking Michael is engaged and Calum’s busy being a fuckboy.” You two glance over at Calum, who was still making out with this chick, his hands pressing against her exposed back. “Fucking twat. And I’m here trying to figure my place with this girl.” 

“I take it you like her?” You ask curiously. 

“I do, a lot, actually,” Ashton’s words were true. “But she doesn’t exactly want to commit to me. She initially had a crush on that dickhead over there.” He points his chin towards Calum. You widened your eyes to this information. 

“You’re kidding.” 

Ashton shakes his head, “I’m dead serious. I’m not mad at him though; she liked him first and I can’t control her feelings.” You nodded comprehensively. “But Calum took advantage of that knowledge and began fucking her for a while.” 

Wow, you thought. Tonight had really been the worst night for Calum. You were learning all these things about Calum, which confirmed your not-entertained suspicion that he might be a bad guy. The way he acts seemed completely different with the way he actually was. 

“But as you expected, he got bored,” Ashton informed you. “I’m pretty sure she only started crushing on me because she got hurt, but sometimes you’ve gotta take what you can get.” 

“My sympathy goes to you, Ashton,” you admit quietly, “but isn’t that also taking advantage of her?” 

“Yeah, if I came to her,” he took another swig of beer. “But she went ahead crying to me, unknowing that I liked her. So she attached herself to me and that’s when I told her.” 

You took another drink as well. “This is a lot of tea for me, you know. And I just met you.” The two of you share a laugh before you shrug. “I’m sorry to hear about all that though. I can imagine how awkward it must be between you and Calum.”

“What? Nah,” Ashton denied. “Me and Calum are like boyfriends. He isn’t a bad guy whatsoever. He’s actually got the biggest heart in the world.” You were finding that hard to believe now. “Currently, he’s been having a hard time but before all that, he’s the most down-to-earth guy. He apologized for hurting her even.” 

You glance over at Calum, your mind unsure as to how to deem him. He’s a good guy but also a bad guy but also a good guy? Your mind was racing as he continued sucking lips with the girl. “Sounds like someone who could ruin my life,” you muttered quietly. 

Ashton shrugged, “he’s just never been rejected before. Girls throw themselves at him left and right.” But right then, the drummer nudges you and smirks. “That is, until he met you.” 

“Huh?” 

“When Luke told him that Meri was bringing you tonight, Calum was formulating a whole plan to make you want him again,” Ashton informs you. “You’ve been the only girl who didn’t bother to ask for his number or any social media handle. He didn’t want you to be a one night stand.” 

You couldn’t believe it. Calum is being a giant prick because you were the first woman who didn’t care? Just because he was famous doesn’t mean that the world revolves around him. A one night stand is a one night stand; you weren’t bothered to ask for another night. You enjoyed that night and decided to carry on with your life. It wasn’t like you were going to date him. 

“That’s funny,” you softly reply, focusing down on the now empty bottle in your hands. “The morning after, he made me breakfast and let me use his bathroom. And after all that, he wanted me out of the apartment quickly.” 

Ashton begins to think a bit, biting the skin in his cheek. He then looks over and lowers his eyebrows, “was he looking at anything? Like his phone or any documents?” 

“Mhm,” you replied, “like this bundle of papers.” 

Ashton nods, “yeah no, it’s not you. Like I said, he’s having a hard time and those documents are the reason why. He honestly doesn’t mean to act so bipolar.” 

You began to ponder what was written in the documents, but they truly were none of your business. Whatever those documents held clearly bothered Calum and you weren’t intending to to pry. After all, you don’t even think you two can be considered friends. You’re more acquainted than anything. You know more about Ashton now than you do about Calum. 

“Anyways.” A subject change. “It seems Merigold was interested in Drew. Do you know if she’s got a crush on him?” 

“I dunno about a crush,” you shrugged, “she wants to fuck him.” 

Ashton snorts, “yeah? She’s planning on kicking you out for the night then?” 

“I have my own suite but we’re right beside each other,” you began with a sigh. “But she actually wanted me to fuck Alex so it was like a whole double-fucking thing.” 

Ashton chuckles, “how’s it working out for you?” You jokingly look around to spot the mentioned boy that clearly wasn’t around. 

“Not well, I think.” You giggle. Camila Cabello begins playing on the boat, with a bit of the noise settling down. Never Be the Same had been playing, and several people began dancing slowly against each other and quietly belting the tune. “I kinda really like this song.” 

“Yeah?” Ashton asked. He grabbed the empty beer bottles and put them on the outside of the Jacuzzi. “’Just like nicotine, heroin, morphine.’” This boy could hit some high pitches, you noticed. “’Suddenly, I’m a fiend and you’re all I need.’” He grabbed your chin, reminding you of the way Calum did, and winked. “’All I need... yeah, yeah, all I need...’” 

Ashton quickly grabbed you and placed you on top of him. You blushed, seeing how easy he was able to do that due to the water making your body incredibly light. You weren’t sure how you felt about this situation, considering you just met this man. But with the way his eyes were looking at you, you knew that you something. Unfortunately, you sort of had someone else in mind. 

“’It’s you, babe,’” Ashton sung quietly, “’n I’m a sucker for the way that you move, babe.’” His large hands supported your lower back, holding you close so you wouldn’t float away. “’And I could try to run but it would be useless...’“ 

“Ashton...” You didn’t want to seem rude, but fucking one band member and then fucking the next makes you feel like a slut. You didn’t even know how you managed to get into such a situation with Calum, let alone how you got into it again with Ashton. But hooking up immediately after one last night made your stomach churn. “I shouldn’t. I just fucked your bandmate yesterday and--” 

“I know,” Ashton quietly whispered, bringing your face closer to his. He gives you a wink, “just wait another minute.” You titled your head to the left in confusion while Ashton began cutting the space between your lips. His breath tickled your lips, “wait for it.” 

You felt his lips just barely touch yours before you hear splashes of water headed your way. Ashton laughed against your lips, pulling back as the both of you turn to see Calum rush your way. The water clearly slowed him down, but the fierceness in his eyes were piercing you. “Fuckin’ knew it,” Ashton mumbled under his breath. He looks at you and gives you a wide smile, “have fun.” 

“Huh?” You exclaimed. Before you knew it, a hand grabbed hold of your upper arm and pulled you from Ashton’s body. You attempt to pull away but you froze when Calum held your shoulders so you could be staring straight at him. “Calum, what the fuck--” 

“Shut the fuck up.” His voice was cold and vexed, as though someone had broken his favorite item. He gives Ashton an ill look, which Ashton repaid with a devilish smirk. “You’re so fucking annoying, Ash.” Calum could only roll his eyes.

“You can thank me later.” Ashton winks at you before waving his hands in dismissal. “Have fun, kids.” 

Calum began pulling you away, which made you instinctively grab your things and exit the Jacuzzi with him. He guides you away without a word, allowing you to just be met with his back. Toned and smooth, with his scapula protruding, which made you tempted to reach up and touch them. But right now, you weren’t having it with Calum. 

“Calum, where the fuck are we going? Let go of me!” 

“No.” 

His words were thin and formidable. You weren’t sure of anything at that moment except for the grip he hand around your wrist. You two were leaving a trail of Jacuzzi water, his entire body dripping more than yours. This man was looking good, you couldn’t lie. But you were not happy with being somewhat manhandled by this man. 

And, while you were at the idea of being manhandled, did nobody notice all the wounds you owned on your body? The scraped and bruised knees? The hickeys all over your neck? Was this normal for celebrities to see so they couldn’t be bothered to look at you? Even Meri didn’t say anything (which likely was to spare you from the embarrassment.) 

She’s a good friend, bless her heart.

But once again, she left you and you were having yet another deja vu moment with Calum. You could be at home, being a good girl and studying. Or maybe taking another shift so you could earn a bit more pocket money. Or sleeping, honestly. 

“Calum, where are you taking me?”

You trail close behind, noticing that he was taking you to the inside of the cruise where the seemingly endless floors of suites resided. He loosened his grip and gradually let you go as soon as you two got close to a crowded elevator. You would have escaped but he pressed his hand on your lower back, cautious of mentioned potential plan. 

“Be a good girl and just follow,” Calum murmurs, the two of you standing with several others. You grumbled, your eyes watching the elevator reach each floor before making it to the ground level (or your current floor.) Calum gets you in first so the two of you would be against the wall. But it was becoming cramp, so Calum took it upon himself to get you in a corner and cage you with his arms. 

“You must be joking,” you chuckled darkly under your breath. Calum’s chest pressed against yours, feeling your nipples perk from the A/C of the elevator and Calum’s body. “I should’ve just kicked you in the nuts and ran as fast as possible.” 

“I used to play soccer in secondary school,” Calum muttered by your ear. “Meaning that it would have been futile; I would have caught you already.” Rolling your eyes from his cockiness, you keep your arms tightly to your sides and emit a sigh. The elevator smelled of chlorine now; you longed for a shower. 

“I wish Ashton didn’t let you grab me,” you sighed in annoyance. You threw your head back and leaned against the elevator wall. “I was having a good time.” 

Calum brought his hand over to your face, pinching both cheeks with his fingers. Your lips were now vertical and popping out. “Wanna take back those words, Princess?” 

“Or else what?” You hissed, pushing his hand off of your face. “Whatcha gonna do? Bite me?” You bring a hand up to rub your neck. “I don’t think you’ve got much more bite in you.” 

“Oh Princess,” Calum hummed, pressing his forehead against yours, “you’re going to regret those words.” 

You two had reached the desired floor as Calum grabs you out of the elevator and begins walking towards his suite. You reluctantly followed, barely tipsy from the one beer you had given. This would be more bearable if you were drunk, but you preferred being fairly sober. Better to actually know what was going on rather than just mindlessly doing things in the moment. 

Your feet left several puddles, with mental apologies floating all around your head. But Calum didn’t seem to give a damn as you two made it to one of the ends of the hall worth of suites. A guard stood at the end of it, meeting eyes with Calum. 

“I.D.,” the guard asked. Calum fished his phone out from his pocket, which had been covered with a plastic protector. He lets you go momentarily but keeps you stood at the door as he took out his identification and presented it to the guard. You crossed your arms across your chest, knowing your nipples were still perky and evident. 

The guard nods, digging through his pocket with his eyes peered in to take out a keycard. He offers it to Calum, who takes it graciously and hands him a fair amount of money. They exchange a look before the guard begins to walk away from the suite, which you assumed was to take a new position at the other end. 

Calum grabbed a bit of your bathing suit and moved you back to dip the card into the lock. The red light turns green, and in one clean click! sound, the door is opened and the two of you are in. 

[Before we continue (if you’d like), play Can’t Imagine by Always Never]

Calum switches on the lights and you were presented with a beautiful suite. Unfortunately, with the situation at hand once again, Calum wasn’t going to let you ravish in it’s elegance. He drags you into the bathroom and flicks on the light in there. “Calum?” You ask but he locks the door of the suite and the bathroom before turning to you with such a serious expression. 

“Get in the shower,” Calum immediately instructed. You stayed still, attempting to comprehend exactly what was going on. He keeps his eyes locked with yours as he moves a bit closer. “Did I stutter?” 

Preventing the situation from becoming grim, you oblige and position yourself into the shower. You toss your things on the sink before you do and you turn to watch Calum. The toned man empties his hands as well and teases the waist of his swimming trunks. Heat bursts into your cheeks as his length, exposed and hardening, was exposed before you. 

“C-Calum,” you attempt to look away but Calum walks towards you and grabs your chin. He tilts your head down, forcing you to see his cock slap his stomach. 

“I didn’t tell you to look away, did I?” Calum growled, your eyes wide by the twitching and eagerness of his cock. “Get in the shower, put your hands on the wall. Don’t move a muscle.” 

You pressed your hands against the wall opposite from the shower head, your heart racing from nerves. Staring at the wall ornate with minimalist art of shells and waves, you listen as Calum turns on the shower. The glass shower door is closed, and the intimacy suddenly went up into flames. 

You couldn’t see it, but Calum opened up the bar of soap that hotels provide and began rubbing it between his wet hands. You could hear the soap squish and squeak in his hands. Then, Calum’s hand grabbed the bit of bathing suit between your thighs and pulled them up, giving you an annoying wedgie. “What the fuck, Calum?”

Smack! His hand met harshly with your ass cheek, causing you to lean your body against the wall. Calum chuckled coolly under his breath, “that’s Daddy to you, Princess.” He starts to rub the area that now stings, your ass foamed up with bubbles of soap. “I need my Princess clean before I can fuck the lights out of her.” 

You gulp, feeling his fingers gradually rub down towards the crevice between your glistening thighs. His long fingers teased, slowly rubbing between the lips of your pussy. You pressed your forehead against the well, the sensation sending twitch-inducing pleasure through your body. 

“C-Calum, quit it...” you measley fought, your eyes completely shut when Calum began rubbing your clit in circles with the tip of his middle finger. Your toes curled from his touch, but he suddenly halted. Shit, you thought. Wrong name. “I’m sorry, Daddy.” 

Calum smirked. “I know you are, Princess.” He continued stimulating your clit, rubbing it slowly as his free hand rubbed adoringly along the curves of your body. “You look good. Too good.” He gave your side a little pinch. “I didn’t like the way people were looking over at you.” 

“People were looking at me?” You asked curiously. You were completely oblivious to any eyes on you, considering you were constantly engaged in interaction and conversation with people to really notice. 

“I noticed you when you first came to the pool area on the main deck,” Calum admitted quietly. “I watched you come to the Jacuzzi. I watched the way Ashton held your hand and helped you in. I watched him mount you on top of him.” 

So he cares a lot. You smirked, allowing yourself a victory in your head. Even an asshole-acting chick magnet has enough energy to put aside his pride. “Didn’t think you noticed. You had a girl all up on you.” 

“Didn’t even bother to catch her fucking name,” Calum mumbled. His hands left your body for a quick moment to apply more soap. Suddenly, without warning, his hands shoved themselves between the front of your body and the bathing suit. You froze. “I was busy thinking about how I was going to bring you back here.” 

“O-oh really?” His fingers rubbed along your stomach. “But you already h-had a girl on you. Isn’t that-” his fingers crawled up to the space between your breasts, “-what you wanted?” 

“She wasn’t you.” His large hands reached your breasts and pressed his palms down against your nipples. You emit a strangled moan. 

“Her body was perfect,” you commented quietly. “S-seemed like your body t-type...” 

“You’re my body type.” He rested his head on your shoulder, noticing your arms struggling due to his satisfying touch. “Do you like the way I touch you, Princess?” You nod, biting your bottom lip harshly. He presses his cock against your ass. “Do you want me to fuck you?” 

You hum out an ‘mhm’ but it wasn’t good enough for Calum. His fingers wrap about your nipples and tug them harshly, making you jump. Your nails threaten to leave scratches on the wall, but Calum’s painful teasing was slowly sending you to the edge. “P-please...” 

His hands rub your chest easily with his soapy fingers, his index fingers constantly circling your nipples. “I will.” But after his words, he retracted his body from yours. You open your eyes and decide to turn around to face Calum. You watched as he detached the shower head from its holster and began spraying you with water. “But first, I need to wash you off.” 

“Calum!” For a moment, you two were sharing a laugh. Calum had been spraying warm water over your body, in which you simultaneously tried to get rid of all the soap as well as shield yourself from it. He was immensely entertained by your motions as you removed any spec of soap from your body. “I’m clean, I’m clean!” 

“Are you sure?” He kept spraying your chest. “I feel like you’ve still got a lil some some.” 

“Calum!” 

“Okay, okay.” Calum obliges and puts the shower head back where it was held. It continued to hit his back again while he neared you. He tugs on the bit of bathing suit covering your stomach and reverts back to a serious face. “Strip that off and go dry yourself. I want to see you on the bed when I’m done here.” 

You tilt your head to the side, “what will you be doing here?” 

He looks down, then meets your eyes again, “I’m not fucking you with a chlorine-covered cock.” 

“Nice alliteration,” you said under your breath. Calum smirked. You looked down at his cock, standing painfully hard right before you. Then, without much thought, you brought yourself on your knees (hissing in the process.) “Pass me the soap.” 

“Y/N, you don’t--” 

“It’s Princess to you,” you scolded from below, earning a heart-melting smile from the man before he offers the soap down to you. “I can’t let you do everything, can I?” You lather the soap all over your hands before you drop it on the shower floor. Calum emits a gentle moan as soon as you wrapped your hands around his cock. “...A newfound kink I see?” You teased, stroking his cock up and down. 

“It’s not a kink!” 

“It’s a soap kink.” 

“It’s not!” 

You snort, “I’m not convinced.” You rub his long cock, watching as his thighs tense up and his toes curl below you. 

“Y/N, you’re fucking touching my cock,” Calum exclaims in frustration. He threw his head back in euphoria. “Fucking... of course I’m going to react this way-- it feels good. B-but it’s not a-- fuck!” 

Calum was quick to grab your shoulders and bring you back on your feet. Your hands leave his cock, the combination of soap and precum dripping from your fingers. “Take that off, dry yourself off, and get on the bed. Not another word, okay?” You just watched as he took the shower head again and cleaned your hands. “Understood, Princess?” He emphasized. 

You nodded, earning an eager smile from Calum as he helped you out of the shower. You quickly grabbed a spare towel and your things but before you could escape the bathroom, Calum dips out from the shower and gives your ass a spank. “H-hey!” You squeaked. But when you glanced back to glare at the man, he only gave you a darker, more cynical look in return. 

“Not another word,” Calum hums, his brown orbs instructing you to proceed before making any more bad moves. You leave silently, your skin quickly accumulating goosebumps due to the strong A/C. You shivered, lacking interest in stripping due to the bit of warmth the bathing suit provided. 

But, you were to listen. Walking over to the large king sized bed, you toss your shorts and phone on the bedside table provided. You drop the towel on the bed and begin to peel off the bathing suit. With a bit of a struggle, you remove the soppy article of clothing from your body. Shivering some more, you find solace in wrapping yourself with the dry towel you grabbed. You could still smell a bit of chlorine on your skin, but the soap was able to fairly mask it. 

The sound of the shower suddenly subdues, and you’re only left guessing what Calum could be doing. You keep your naked body wrapped with the towel while taking a seat on the bed. You watch as Calum Hood walks out of the bathroom and slowly makes his way to you. 

Your body completely defied you and instantly reacted to seeing Calum’s nude body. It was built and toned, with tattoos kissed perfectly in his skin. The muscles were absolutely not subtle, and you desperately wanted to feel them. Ride-able thighs and a thick cock stopped right before you, with a hand under your chin to force your head up. You met his hungry eyes, gulping from their intensity. 

“You seem distracted,” Calum hums quietly. He bends down to get a closer look at you. Your cheeks tint pink. “Like what you see, Princess?” 

Submissively, you nod. Although you were mad earlier and preferred to continue a conversation with Ashton, you couldn’t deny your hormones. Calum knew how to fuck, and you didn’t mind an opportunity to feel good. His thumb rubs along your trembling bottom lip, his cock completely hard and pressed against his stomach. “I’m going to face fuck you again, Princess.” 

You lips quivered, “b-but my throat is still--” 

“Did I ask?” Those brown orbs were engulfed in darkness, with all sorts of devious plans that you couldn’t even imagine. “Come.” He lays down on the bed, his head comfortably settling into the pillows by the headboard. He gestures you to sit between his legs. You nest there quickly, your hands immediately wrapping around his cock and waiting for instruction. “Comfortable?” You nod. “Then go ahead, Princess.” 

You lean down, familiar with this request as your mouth immediately took in his entire member. Calum’s throaty moans are forced out, his cock twitching contently in your mouth. You felt yourself gagging a bit when his tip teased the beginning of your throat, but you had to brace yourself. Because Calum wasn’t intending to remove your mouth from his dick anytime soon. 

His hands quickly found themselves webbed up in your hair, a string of moans escaping before he slowly forced your head up and down his length. Tears develop once again and you held on tightly to his muscular thighs. “F-fuck, Y/N... your mouth feels so fucking good...” 

His praise encouraged you to twirl your tongue around, eager for his cock to cum already. Your precum had already been leaking down between your legs and onto the bed sheets. You mentally apologized to the maids that would be cleaning this room eventually. Saliva streamed down his cock as he quickened his pace and solely focused on reaching his high. 

“’M close, Princess,” he informs you quietly, his voice shaky and husky due to his approaching climax. He forced his cock down your throat, your cheeks shining from your tears. But when you looked over at Calum, all you could see was his jawline. His head was thrown back, working towards his euphoric moment as his hands continued to force your head up and down his member. 

But finally, he came. 

Forcing it down your throat and relieving your throat with coughs, you watch as Calum sits up and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. He keeps you between his legs, but taps one of your legs. “Lift your leg over.” You do as told, with his leg between the two of yours. “Now sit.” 

“Sit?” You asked, your hands wrapping around his neck for safety and grip. He holds your waist for extra support and waits patiently. “On your thigh?” He nods. Emitting a sigh, you slowly letting yourself down and immediately arc your back from feeling his skin against your pussy. 

“Geez, Princess,” Calum began to tease with a smirk, “you’re so wet... it’s like you enjoy it when I fuck your face.” You stay quiet, shutting your eyes as doses of pleasure shot all about your body from just being still. “Princess, you’d feel much better if you moved.” 

“I-I know, I just...” You didn’t know what to say, really. You were already feeling good just feeling his thigh below you. He was incredibly warm and his large hands on your waist kept you paralyzed. 

“Guess I still gotta do a lot.” Without wasting a second, Calum used his strength and moved you up and down his thigh. You emit staggered moans, feeling your precum spread along his thigh. Your body writhed, your arms wrapping a little tighter around his neck. “You okay, Princess?” 

“Mhm,” you strained out. Calum chuckles, using one hand to continue moving you up and down his thigh. His resigned hand went ahead and took hold of one of your breasts. “F-fuck, Daddy...” 

His thumb circled around your nipple, forcing it erect while tilting it up so he could wedge it between his teeth. Pleasure hatched through your bones, feeling the stimulation of your pussy against his thigh and the way he nipped and nibbled at your nipple. It was killing you-- you wanted to get fucked already. You were tired of this teasing and touching when you wanted to be completely ruined by this man. 

“Alright, fuck this.” Calum’s patience runs dry from teasing you. His hands grab your waist again to lift you onto his cock. You assist, your legs now on either side of his as he forced you down onto his cock. Your mouth blurts out sinful words, feeling as your pussy was ravishing around Calum’s dick. “Fuck...” 

“Sh-shit...” His fingers dent into your waist, his pelvis thrusting into you to get his cock as deep as possible. He bounced you on his cock, with his hands ensuring that you’re pushed down immediately as soon as you’re almost completely off his cock. You hold on tightly, your acrylics digging into Calum’s back. You wanted to apologize immediately, but it didn’t seem like he minded. 

As he continued, he brings his lips to your ear and nibbles on it. His thrusting made your brain stupid, but you definitely focused when he began to talk, “Princess, I have an offer for you.” His voice is serious right then. “And you aren’t allowed to say no.” 

You continue to indulge while waiting quietly (but not quite) for his words. “I want you to be mine for the rest of the time that I’m in the city,” his whispers. “You can have whatever you want in return.” 

“Y-you offering to be my s-sugar daddy, Daddy?” You struggled out between moans. 

“If that’s what you want.” 

You shook your head, backing up to look into Calum’s eyes. Your eyes threatened to shut from the pleasure but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “W-we can just be f-fuckbuddies-- I don’t want your-- fuck-- money...” 

Calum’s eyes widened, completely going still from your words. Your body calmed down from the pleasure and you tilted your head in confusion like a dog. “You don’t want my money?” You shook your head. “You straight up just want to fuck?” 

“W-well, yeah?” You say honestly with a sigh. Sweat accumulated all over his face, but you could still see a sudden gentleness wash over him. “Did you want me to ask you for money in exchange?”

“N-no, I just.” Calum stutters. “It’s usually what I expect...”

You shake your head and smile, lifting one hand to give Calum a gentle slap on his forehead. “Then you should expect the unexpected from me. I’m not some golddigger or cloutchaser.” You wrap your arms around his neck again and shrug. “If you’re giving me pleasure, I’d like to return the favor with the same amount of pleasure.” 

Calum could only blink, somewhat in awe from your words. You poke the back of his neck, watching his eyes burn into yours. “You’re only here for a little bit of time so I’d rather you spend less than what you’ve probably already spent.” The two of you sit in a bit of silence. His cock gets harder inside your pussy. “I-is that a deal?” 

Calum breathes in for a moment before changing positions. You were now lying down on your back, with the man hovering over you. His cock was very much still inside you and his chest pushed down onto yours. “I’m going to devour you, Princess,” Calum insists in a hush tone before sitting back up. He holds onto your waist once again and begins to rail you, your mind going completely blank and your hands losing feeling. 

You weren’t quite sure what you agreed to, but you were subconsciously praying you wouldn’t be regretting it. 

-=-=-==-=-===-=---=-==-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-==-=-=-==-

another long part but a goodie (kinda). let me know whatcha think right in here and ill be starting the next part! <3 

[writtingthing]

Crossing The Great Sea Chapter 3 (Linked Universe)

Word count ; 2363

Read on Archive of our own

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

 Far away , Wind could see the Mother and Child Isles. The boat was moving slowly, Wind wanted to use the wind waker to help them move faster, but the other agreed to let the wind do it’s own thing. The others wanted to learn as much as they can about the World crossing pirates. No, not pirates. Travelers. That’s really all they were. Most didn’t even know how to fight. Ren in particular enjoyed to watch the Heroes spar.

“How much longer do I have?” Four was behind Wind, making the youngest slightly jump.

“Um, I’m not sure. A couples days for sure. We’re almost out of the Great Sea though.” Wind noticed the smallest hero had a different book than the day before. “Find anything interesting?”

“Not really, only one book is weird.” Four held up the leather bound book.

“What does it say?” Curiosity was winning today in Wind’s mind.

Four handed it to Wind, the latter looked at the one page with text, “This kinda sounds like what happened to me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Tetra was turned to stone. When I found her I learned Lineneck had... ran away when his old crew was captured. Later Bellum attached himself to Linebeck and I had to fight him. But I don’t think anything had to do with memories.” Wind trailed off, “Amila mentioned something about Linebeck helping them, she said she doesn’t remember….”

“Do you think it's coincidence?” Four was looking over the written words with a new light.

“Maybe.. did you ask Jacalyn?” Wind knew he shouldn’t pry, it wasn’t right. But Linebeck was his friend, he had a right to know, right? If they were forgetting, was it so wrong to try to help them remember?

“She said she doesn’t remember either. I could ask her about Linebeck though.” Four closed the book, having his curiosity renewed.

“What are you two plotting?” Twilight approached them.

Wind and Four smiled innocently, “Nothing.” They spoke in almost unison.

Twilight eyes looked over the two boys, then sighed, “whatever, don’t get in too much trouble though. Wild’s got the food ready. He’s serving the recipe he got from your grandma.” Twilight nodded to Wind.

The three of them joined the others, who were already seated digging into the soup laid out for them. The engaged in small talk, mostly towards the cook. Wind made the passing comment that if Wild practiced enough he may be almost as good as grandma.

The all had a good laugh. Somehow they began talking about masks. After eating Wild showed off his small collections of masks.

“Is that Majora’s Mask?” Qin reached for the mask in question. Is wasn’t a pretty mask. It had all the colors of the rainbow, but scatter on it. Horns were spread along the heart shaped edges. The eyes is what bothered most, the yellow and red seemed to look through people.

“Yeah, I’ve many stories behind it. Heard of it?” Wild nodded to Jacalyn.

“Of course I have. Especially from the mask salesman.” Jacalyn smiled as she held it in her hands, “He had so many stories, it was hard to leave him.”

The others laughed. Amila began to tell about when they meet him, the salesman was a talker for sure. The sun set and Time and Jacalyn took first watch. The night was quiet. Jacalyn keep a single hand on the helm as she scanned the sea.

“Sorry.”

Time turned to Jacalyn, who was still staring out into the sea, “Excuse me?”

“Sorry Fairy boy, I’ve been unfair.”

Time gave her a questioning look, “How so?”

“I haven’t even asked you to say your story yet.” Jacalyn looked at him, more like through him, “Yours seems to be pretty important and told in many different ways, so I might as well hear it from its source.”

“Like you said, it’s been told so many times. I would assume you already have hear it 100 times.” Time could feel himself relax, if only a bit.

“I’ll admit, I have heard yours a whole lot, one of my earliest books is of your journey. But can’t you humor a child?” Jacalyn swayed on her feet as she spoke, a smile spread wide across her face.

“You sure don’t speak or act like a child,” Time remarked, then added, “most of the time anyway.”

Jacalyn laughed. “I am only 16, I’m entitled to act like a child sometimes.”

The two kept up light hearted conversations through the shift. A voice caught their attention. Hyrule was standing there, a tired smile on his face.

“A bit early to change shifts.” Time raised his brow.

“I’m having a bit of trouble sleeping tonight, thought I could make myself useful.”

Time might have argued, but Jacalyn spoke first. “Go get some rest old man, we can handle it.”

Hyrule nodded. Time let out a sigh and walked past Hyrule into the hull. He turned back one last time, “Need me to wake one of the other for you Jacalyn?”

The woman held up her hand, “No need, let those who can sleep, sleep. I’ll be good for a bit longer.”

Time nodded and headed inside, Leaving the two alone.

“Liar.”

Jacalyn eyed the boy, “You can get rid of me after you listen.”

Hyrule had heard the speech earlier. She had come up to him and begun talking. It wasn’t hard to notice Hyrule didn’t fit in with the others. Jacalyn told him that was all in his head, but was it really. Hero of Time, Hero of Warriors, Hero of the Wind, Hero of Twilight, Hero of the Four sword, Hero of Legend, Hero of the Wild. Even The Chosen Hero. What was he again? Hero of Hyrule. Just Hyrule. He wasn’t exactly a Hero either.

No matter what the others told him he wouldn’t change his mind, why was she even trying. He wasn’t trying to be rude, Hyrule was just tired of hearing the same thing over and over again. It didn’t help Jacalyn looked exhausted as soon as Time left, as if she was tired of saying it too.

“I don’t really need encouragement, I’m fine. I’ll travel with them, I don’t need to be their equals.” Hyrule told her, he didn’t need to add he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be their equals. Hard to be a humble traveler when everyone in the land knows your name.

Jacalyn growled, “You are-” She cut herself off and took a deep breath. “I know I can’t change your mind.” She admitted.

Hyrule looked at her, surprised.

“But, you can’t change anyone else’s mind either. We all think you belong. Nothing you can do about that.” Jacalyn didn’t talk after that, neither did Hyrule. Both stood in peaceful silence as the night went on.

 “Linebeck? Yeah we ran in with him.” Wind and Four had found Jacalyn in the study writing in a journal of sorts. Both we listening eagerly to what the girl was saying.

“He was an interesting fellow, talked about how he saved the sea.” Jacalyn smiled, lost in her memory, “Now that I think about it, he spoke about you alot,” She nodded towards Wind.

“How long ago was that?” Four asked.

Jacalyn rubbed her neck, “Um, maybe 4 months ago. I’m not sure, my memory is pretty bad.”

Four and Wind sighed, the former begun to think circles in his head. Four should have known this wouldn’t have gone anywhere. Then Wind asked the question Four should have asked way earlier.

“Why is your memory so bad?”

Jacalyn pause, her eyes widened for a moment. Without blinking or looking at them she spoke, almost like a recording, without any emotion or warmth, “It doesn’t matter.”

Four and Wind exchanged glances, Jacalyn shook her head, and spoke with her normal voice, “Some things are better left forgotten. You should probably leave it that way.”

Wind sighed in defeat and walked out, Four gave her a suspicious look, but followed.

There was no way he was leaving it that way. Four wasn’t sure why he was so curious, why he wanted to know so badly. No, not wanted anymore. He needed to know. He wasn’t sure why, but he was sure he needed to know.

 Time wasn’t sure what to think when the two smaller heroes walked out of the study. They seemed normal, going to do something to occupy the time. The only thing that made him worry is the way Jacalyn continued to stare off into space, writing something down without looking. Time walked in, she didn’t seem to notice him until he was next to her. Time only got a glance at what was written, it was an effort to keep his face neutral. Jacalyn shut the book with a loud thud.

“Sorry, I think I’m going to retire early today,” She looked up at him, or rather through him. It looked as if nothing was behind those brown eyes. “Think you can tell the others for me?”

“Sure.”

Time watched as she took the book and walked to her room, the door shutting behind her. He walked out onto the deck and told the others, as he said he would. Time couldn’t focus though, what was written kept gnawing at his mind. He had overheard Four talk to Warriors and Wind about some weird things hidden in her books, but the phrase he read…. she couldn’t have known. He could hear the words spoken to him,

 You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you?

 The heroes didn’t see Jacalyn for a few days. Amila informed them she was feeling ill, but it wasn’t contagious. Four seemed unconvinced but didn’t voice anything. The crew had gone stiff since Jacalyn got sick. They were more quiet, sent more glances towards Jacalyn’s room and towards Amila.

“Do you know how deep the ocean is?” Sky was next to Wind, looking deep into the sea.

“I’m not too sure, the entire Kingdom of old Hyrule lies beneath it.” Wind could remember traversing through the old castle.

“Wow,” That was all Sky could say. Nothing was really going on. Every was around doing things, but the atmosphere felt empty.

“We passed Star Island the other day, so we’ve left the Great Sea. Who knows how long until we reach another Hyrule.”

“It can vary,” Fellin answered, walking up to the young heroes.

“Sometimes it can take a day or two, other times it has taken weeks.” Fellin sent another glance towards Jacalyn’s room.

Sky frowned, then shouted to Amlia, “You sure you don’t need any help with Jacalyn?”

Amila smiled, “She’s fine, we’ve dealt with this before.”

Sky heard her grumble a bit more, but she continued on with a smile. It was clear Amila was in charge when Jacalyn was away.

 Legend was walking to the study, after hearing one his own stories was written down. As he passed by Jacalyn’s room he heard voice. Curiosity won out over human decency as he stood and tried to listen.

“You promised.” That was Amila.

“I did.” Jacalyn’s voice was soft, as if it hadn’t been used in days.

“The others have been worried.”

There was a laugh on the other side, “Why wouldn’t they be? It’s been awhile since something like this has happened.”

“They would be happy to see you’re ok.”

“.... Soon. I’d like to think a bit longer to think.”

Legend heard something shuffle.Taking that as his cue to tune out he walked to the study. Four was sitting there, looking at the same book.

“What’d you hear?”

“Excuse me?”

Something was different about the smallest hero. Maybe Four didn’t do well with confined spaces. Maybe he read a story about bad stuff happening on a ship. Whatever it was, Legend did not appreciate how he was acting. And the others though he was bad.

“I saw you listening to Jacalyn’s door, I’m asking what you heard.” Four was looking him in the eyes.

Legend wanted to argue, but gave in. The sooner Four was done being nosey, the sooner he’d be back to normal.

 When Jacalyn exited her room, her crew bombarded her with questions. She waved them all off with a shrug and a smile. Wind was surprised when she didn’t look at him or Four with any negative emotion. She looked at none of the Heroes differently than she did a few days before.Time was conflicted, wanting to ask about the phrase she had written, but he held back. Later. they could deal with that later, or maybe never.

 Something was wrong. Four had known it since he set foot on the ship. This weird feeling of… well he didn’t know. He was curious, who wouldn’t be? But Four could usually respect people’s secrets. Why couldn’t he do it now? He had snapped at Sky. It was over something small and Sky forgave him, but still. This wasn’t right. The others noticed too, Legend would soon confront him, Four knew it. So he’d fix it before then.

Four approached Jacalyn while she was in the study, alone.

She smiled at him, as if nothing happened, “Heya Four, need a new book?”

“No, I need answers.” No need to beat around the bush anymore.

Jacalyn sighed, “You don’t. Like I said, somethings are-”

“No.”

Jacalyn paused. Then took a breath. “It’s not worth it.”

“What do you mean.”

“The knowledge you want, it’s not worth it,” Jacalyn’s voice dropped, “So drop it.”

Four wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t do that. He knew something was up. Jacalyn knew too.

“Four.” Jacalyn called for him.

It has something to do with her memory, her boat. Her.

“Four!” Her voice was louder, more annoyed.

The final pieces were in front of him, why couldn’t he put them together.

“FOUR!” She was yelling, angry.

Something snapped.

Four felt the ground meet his head.

His mind was not working.

He couldn’t think.

The last thing he could hear was Jacalyn’s voice.

It was not filled with anger or annoyance.

The only emotions he could hear was worry and fear.

“FOUR!”

And with that, Four was no longer there.

[thedungeonsbat]

Muggle Love (Chapter 4)

A/N; Hey lovely reader!! I have been receiving some really positive feedbacks and it makes so damn happy to read them.. I love yea all!!

Chapter 4

Your heart began pounding faster and faster at the sight of a very particular house which stood there. You started running out of your breath. Severus noticed your unusual behaviour and quickly asked you what was wrong. You couldn't get a word of of your mouth, he saw you shivering in fear and his hand found its way to yours. You were trembling. What were you fearing?

He immediately asked the driver to stop and he did as told. He gently pulled you out of the car, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other in yours. He helped you stand but you seemed too weak. You almost fell on your knees but Severus' grip tightened, not letting you go.

"(Y/N) what's wrong? Is this car sickness? Just tell me." You could hear the slightest amount of concern in his voice. You looked up at him and said in a barely audible whisper,

"Severus, I- Please take me somewhere else. Anywhere else. Please." You pleaded and your eyes started tearing. He nodded. He couldn't let anything wrong happen to you, he was the one who brought you here.

The sunset looked exquisite but you two had no time to enjoy it. It would take too long to go back into the city by car. He was left with no other choice.

He sent off the cabbie and took a deep breath. He looked around, made sure no one was around. The neighbourhood was a quite one, like Severus'.

"(Y/N), I need you to stay calm for what we're about to do, okay? Just don't freak out." His voice sounded softer than usual. He was tensed up. Was he afraid for you? Was he really concerned for you?

You nodded. You had no idea what he was about to do but you wanted to get away. Having him so close to you and looking at him concerned for you made your heart melt. Warmth was spread all over you body and you felt a bit better in his embrace. But you were still having the shakes.

He straightened up and apparated. HE JUST APPARATED WITH A MUGGLE?!

He apparated to his own house in Spinner's End. He knew you found this house 'boring' and 'gloomy' but he didn't know where you lived and it was the first place that popped into his head even if it wasn't the most suitable one. It was his home after all.

You did not believe what just happened. You felt sick but luckily did not throw up. You were shocked! What just happened? How did you reach there in just a moment?

"Severus, ho- how are we here? We were- we were at that place and now we're h- here. I- I mean, how did we even-" You started feeling sick again. Before you could say something else, Severus sighed and you were cut off when you saw him taking out his wand,

"What is tha-"

"Obliviate." He muttered and with that he erased the memory of you and him apparating. You felt weak and your feet began trembling again as Severus held you by your waist once more. You fainted. He had expected this to happen.

He still didn't know what happened to you back there. What troubled you so much?

He held your waist tighter and bent a little to pick you up the bride-style. He carried you inside his home and carefully walked the stairs to reach his bedroom.

He delicately set you down on his bed and removed your shoes. He put your feet on the bed as well. He took out a blanket out of a dark cupboard which stood in the corner and tucked you nicely in it.

You looked very peaceful while your were unconscious even though you had fainted because of… perhaps apparating or seeing something terrible but none of these were pleasing. He cleaned up the dusty room with a flick of his wand. He sighed heavily and was disappointed the task he had for today couldn't be accomplished.

He was confused about what should he now. He looked outside the window, it was dark and it wasn't really a starry night. He looked back at you, lying motionless in his bed. Never in his life had any other person laid in his bed but you were now.

"It's odd to see her so quiet, unlike the time being she's awake." He thought and smiled at you. Wait, did he just smile?

His smile quickly vanished as soon as he realised it. He recalled what happened. He remembered the feeling of you trembling in his arms, clutching on to him.

He changed into his normal robes after muttering a spell and sat on the bed. He maintained his distance between you and himself. He looked at you, just breathing calmly. It seemed to calm him too. He closed his eyes trying to relax but there were so many things on his mind, he just couldn't. Soon, he will be going back to Hogwarts and his job still wasn't done.

~~Flashback~~

"Severus, I trust you with this. I need you to look after the boy. Just for some time." Dumbledore said, standing in his office with Severus.

"But there is no need. The boy is with those muggles, Black won't get him there." Severus replied in an angry voice, barely louder than a whisper.

"You and I both know that Sirius can get him, I do not ask much of you, Severus." Albus said looking at him through his half-moon spectacles.

Snape growled, "Not much! You are asking me to stay among those senseless muggles! I can not and will not fulfil your command."

Albus sighed moving closer to Severus, "Severus, you promised to protect the boy…" With these words Sevrus turned his face, he knew he had no choice. He frowned more than usual as he agreed with Albus finally. He felt like he was being blackmailed.

"Great, I knew I could rely upon you. Now all need to do is find yourself a new home in the muggle town." He said casually but Severus' reaction to this was contrasting.

~~~~~~~~~~

He grunted as he recalled the conversation. A few days ago, Sirius Black, the mass murderer and Voldemort's supporter had broken out of Azkaban. Everyone knew he'd go after Harry Potter whom Severus truly despised but had to to protect.

His eyes found you again and unknowingly, he had been stroking your head. He did not seem to realise his actions again and retreated his arm suddenly. He clenched his fists and got up. Why was all of this happening? Why couldn't you just be a normal woman for him? Why did you have to affect him like this?

Severus planned on sleeping on the couch but he sat sleepless that night. He could not sleep (Psychology says when you can not sleep, it is possibly because you are awake in someone else' dream ;)). He, after a hard time trying to sleep, got up and grabbed a book from his shelf.

Not even realising it, he fell asleep on the couch after a while.

__________________

The next morning you woke up and found your self tucked properly in a very soft blanket and on a very comfortable bed.

You gently rubbed your eyes. As you glanced around, you saw Severus asleep on the couch in a corner. You almost jumped when you him and gasped. You blinked rapidly, in case it was all a dream but it wasn't. You were in his room.

You could recollect very little of last evening's happenings. Your head hurt. You yawned and stretched. You sat up and looked at sleeping Severus, his head was leaning sideways. He had a book resting on his lap.

You remembered how you were in Privet Drive and began panicking. Yes, you were familiar with the place. You remembered Severus holding you tight so that you won't fall. You smiled at how concerned he seemed for you.

After a while you finally got up and stepped on the floor barefoot. A shiver of cold was sent down your spine as you set foot on the freezing floor. As you stood up, a creaking noise was produced. You hoped it didn't wake him up. You glanced in his direction and saw him stirring up. He eventually woke up as you stood motionless, guilty to ruin his sleep.

He wasn't surprised to see it was you who made the sound. He rubbed his eyes a bit and yawned and got up, approaching you.

"Morning, Sev." You said trying to sound cheerful but Severus did not look like a morning person.

"How do you feel now?" He asked, his words pleasure to your ears. A flicker of concern in his eyes could be seen.

"Better, I guess." You replied with a weak smile.

"You don't need to smile all the time." He said in his low voice, soothing as always. Your smile disappeared and you, to be honest, thought it rude.

"Did I snore?" You weren't joking, you really were afraid. It would have been really embarrassing if that had happened.

He thought you were not serious but as it turned out you were, "No. But tell me, does your head hurt?" He questioned. He expected this from you after the apparation.

"Yes, but how do you know?" You asked, curious.

He smirked. It wasn't the first time you had the feeling that he just knew stuff.

"You are still weak, sit and I'll get you breakfast."

"But I can walk, see and I need to-"

"Sit." He almost ordered you. His tone was colder now and you could not possibly say no to him.

He stormed out of the room and you sat on the couch. You picked up the book he was reading and were very interested when you read the title. It read "Moste Potente Potions". It was an old and thick leather-bound book. Your curiosity grew and you opened the the book even though you had a feeling you shouldn't.

There were various 'weird' pictures and recipes to some 'potions'. The pages were old, so you flipped through the book carefully. Why was he reading this book? He is a professor, he shouldn't be wasting his time reading this sort of odd stuff.

You heard Severus' footsteps and withing a second, you shut the book and lay it aside and sat up straight.

The door opened to reveal him with a tray in his hands. There was a bowl of vegetable soup and its fragrance reached your nose, it smelled amazing.

You found him bringing you breakfast very cute. You smiled at him, genuinely this time.

"Eat, you'll feel better."

"This is amazing! Really! Did you order it or did you make it yourself?" He raised his eyebrow, he had not expected you to like it so much.

"Do you think food delivery is possible in such an 'unfriendly' neighbourhood?" He replied with a slight smirk. You chuckled slightly.

"You don't need to do this, you know." You said after taking another sip. He stood there without any change of expression waiting for you to continue.

"It was my fault, " you continued, looking down at your soup, not able to meet his gaze. You thought it was your mistake he did not get his work done and your long journey resulted to be a huge waste of time.

You did not see it coming, but he sat down beside you. You looked up into his black orbs, you could start tearing up right now recalling last evening but held it back.

He looked into your eyes said, "(Y/N), do not blame yourself for anything that happened. I should have told you where we were going… But if you do not mind," he hesitated while asking, "Can I know what happened…to you?"

You knew well he will be asking you and were already fighting mentally, deciding whether or not tell you about it.

"I understand, Severus. It's just-" You began as he interrupted you.

"I am not enforcing you. You may take your time. As much as you wish." He said in a concerning tone, making you feel something different.

You place your hand on his, startling him at first but a few moments later, you could feel him relax under it. You reassured him with a gentle smile.

"Sev, I trust you, I don't know why. Not yet. But I have no reason to hide it from you."

You could swear you saw the corner of his lips rise a bit as you spoke. He looked into your eyes more intently than before. Your pupils had already dilated to their maximum extent.

"Well, here it goes.." You hesitated like he did before and he did the same to calm you down, he rested his hand on top of yours. His touch did really calm you down. His hands were cold yet soft.

You continued after a deep breath, "During my childhood..…."

[isthemedia]

So...I may not have been able to help myself...and MIGHT have written Choice#3  “ Cute EraserMic fluff of Mic coming back from a late charity event and instead of going back to his room just crashes in Aizawa’s?” from this post after finishing “Small Hiding Places” 

I was in debate of ACTUALLY waiting till Wednesday....or give another vote on a ficlet, or possibly post another chapter to “When I was a Villain” early .

In short...to those who voted on the second choice; here you go I couldn’t help it. 

“Late Night Bed Guest” 

**Post-When I was a Villain”** Ao3link Here

~~~~~~~~

Hizashi yawned as he swiped his card key to get into the dorms. It still felt so weird to have this...all of this. Even though he’s been here for months, it’s something he hasn’t quite adjusted too--and the fact that he took the bus towards his OLD apartment first before he realized his mistake, just added another hour of sleep he wasn’t getting.

Still he had later nights...not like staying up till three in the morning wasn’t that uncommon for him. Maybe it was because his adrenaline was drained? And there wasn’t any sight of a third or fourth wind coming.

But he couldn’t be too upset. The open house at Wings of Refuge was absolutely amazing! They have the entire month booked with appointments of potential people willing to adopt. The kids were so well behaved and the potential parents were all so sweet.

He smiled softly as he pressed the button and waited for the elevator. His feet hurt, and so did his throat. Everyone knows the blonde LOVED to talk, and he usually didn’t have to worry about needing to hydrate between long winded conversations, but tonight he could have definitely done that better. When the doors opened he got in, feet dragging slightly and pressed the button to go to the top floor.

Fuck it was a great night still. So worth the extra work he put in; staying up late to get decorations and a playlist set-up. Getting Girly and Queenie to make an appealing sign-in book. HELL, Glasses and Mini-Might were able to help make the whole appointment set up more streamline; that’s what really helped them get so many set up!

He needed to do something to thank them. They’re all such damn good kids...Era--Shouta…

Mic giggled giddly. Shouta was doing such a great job with them. The elevator dinged and he made his way off. Green eyes looked down the hall that seemed to stretch out further and further the more he stared. Eyes darting the opposite way, them landing on one door that’s closer…

More inviting to his tired mind.

--

Boots kicked off at the door, and Hizashi all but collapsed of the bed. He sighed and bite his lip to hold in his laughter as he took in the scent.

Shouta…

He pressed his nose against the pillow. Generic soap, and that faint earthy smell. It was amazing and so soothing. Hizashi could feel his body relax and some of the tension bleed out of him. Tiredly he reached up and pulled his hair free of the messy bun he tied it up in, letting it fall and spread over the pillow.

Sure there was a chance he’d be kicked out or that Shouta would be in a bad mood but Hizashi was willing to take that risk. It was SOOO fucking comfortable here. He might actually get some restful sleep tonight.

--

It was nearing four o’clock in the morning, and Shouta was finally...FINALLY returning to he dorms. He was thanking what ever was out there that there were no classes tomorrow. He could sleep in...or at least attempt to. Had to admit it was nice just needing to return to the school rather than his old apartment. It was closer…

He gave and exhausted sigh as he opened his door, and blinked as he took in the sight. On his bed, curled up on one side, glasses still perched on his nose, holding his pillow close, and their blonde hair fanning out; the fading moonlight that filtered in making it almost look white…

Hizashi.

Shouta was about to march over and wake the blonde….but the more he stared the more he found himself unable too. The sight filled his chest with a subtle warmth. Shaking his head and toed off his shoes, made his way over. He tried to be as quiet as possible as to not wake the blonde, but the creak of his bed springs had other plans.

Green eyes fluttered open, looking at Shouta for a few moments, as if still lost.

“Go back to sleep,” Shouta whispered.

“Shou...ta?”

The hero sighed. It figures that even being together the blonde wouldn’t follow simple requests without some...um, provocation. “Why are you here?”

“Hmm...too tired to go to my room,” Hizashi said sleep still heavy in his voice. He shifted and reached out making a grabby gesture with his hands.

Rolling his eyes Shouta laid down, and instantly Hizashi latched on and pulled himself close. Shouta smiled and carefully pulled Hizashi’s glasses off his face, and set them aside before settling in. His reached up and ran his fingers through the long blonde hair. “Long night?”

Hizashi hummed and nodded as he snuggled closer to him. “Yeah..”

“But good?”

Another nod. “Interviews booked through the end of the month.”

“That is good,” Shouta could feel his own eyelids droop a bit.

Hizashi yawned and tucked his head against Shouta’s shoulder. “Though, got on the wrong bus...went back to my old place on accident.”

Shouta chuckled. “Mistakes happens.”

Hizashi nodded. “Didn’t feel like waiting,” a yawn. “So walk here.”

The hero hummed. “Shoulda taken a soak, your muscles are going to hate you tomorrow.”

There was a soft, tired laugh. “Woulda fallen a sleep...don’t think you’d wanna save my ass when you got back...what time is it?”

“Almost 4:30,” Shouta sighed as he let his eyes close.

Hizashi snuggled closer. “Hmmm...woulda been dead then...got back at around 3.”

Shouta scoffed. “No talking about dying...too late for that.”

The blonde giggled slightly, having it be broken off by another yawn. “Hmm...maybe should change out of this...jeans are not comfortable to wear to sleep.”

“You’d need to let go of me then.”

There was a whine. “That’s like work though…”

“So then sleep in jeans,” Shouta huffed one eye cracking open. There was a small pout but Hizashi didn’t move. They laid like that for a few moments…before Shoua sighed and gave in. “Let’s both get undressed.”

“Hmm too tired for fun bed time with you,” Hizashi said the corners of his lips giving a twitch.

“Brat,” Shouta gently smacked him. “Do you wanna sleep in your jeans or not?”

The blonde huffed but relented his hold. They both pulled themselves out of bed and undressed. Shouta getting out of his tracksuit down to the tank top and boxers he wore underneath, while Hizashi stripped down to his t-shirt and underwear before he climbed back into bed.

Hizashi sighed as he wrapped his arms around Shouta and curled up close. “You know...you coulda kicked me out…”

“Now THAT’S like work,” Shouta said and Hizashi chuckled.

“But for serious...y-ya don’t have to put up wi--” the blonde was cut off when Shouta gently cupped his chin and tilted him to give a soft kiss.

“It’s not a problem ‘zashi,” he insisted, voice soft.

Hizashi smiled some, a true soft smile; as he snuggled up close. Moments stretched as the dark skies slowly gave way to color. The stayed curled up with one another, enjoying the company they provided.

The blood giggled softly, it felt nice. Like he was drifting into some warm, happy place. Here in the arms of his hero. Safe and content. Green eyes drifted up to look at the hero; who also seemed to be falling into that same sort of comfort.

Shouta sighed as nuzzled into the touch as he felt the blonde reach and trial his fingers gently along his jaw, feeling the stubble that lined it. A fingertip delicately traced along the content, barely there smile. The hero gave a slight nip to it as traced along his lips, taking in the light giggle from the blonde.

Pulling his hand back, Hizashi reached and cupped Shouta’s cheek. “Hmm...you got such a fucking nice smile. You really should show it more often.”

Shouta scoffed. “I don’t smile...ruins the image.”

Hizashi snorts as his body shook with small muffled giggles. He let out a soft sigh. “Gotta let me know…”

“Know what?”

“Whatcha like...what makes you happy,” Hizashi said softly. “Ya know...shit like that.”

“Gel packets and sleeping,” he smirked and gave a soft gasps as he felt those jagged uneven teeth nip at his neck.

“Asshole,” Hizashi pouted. “You know what I mean.”

Shouta sighed some and looked to him. “I’ll be honest...I don’t really think I even know.”The blonde hummed some, giving him a questioning look. “Was never really interested before.”

“So...we’re winging it?” Hizashi asked.

Shouta shrugged. “Well, what do you like?”

Hizashi barked out a laugh. “Fucking hell dude, I...shit, I don’t think I even know anymore. Like, I seriously can't remember.”

“Hizashi…”

The blonde sighed and was quiet for a few moments. “...you.”

Shouta choked some as he felt his face flush. “You need to take this serious too.”

“I am…” the blonde admitted flatly. “Like no joke...what...what makes me happy, is you.”

The eraser hero sighed. “You’re embarrassing.”

“You asked.”

“You asked first.”

Hizashi snickers as he tangled his legs with Shouta’s under the covers.

“...so I guess...we are just winging it,” Shouta admitted, receiving a soft hum from the blonde. Bright, swirling green eye looked up through thick lashes, a lazy smile on his face. Shouta couldn’t resist.

It was a soft kiss. Letting Hizashi choose if he wanted to deepen it or not. The blonde opting to nip at the hero’s bottom lip. It was slow, and almost languid. Neither seeming to be in a rush to end it soon. Hizashi moaned softly as he felt one of Shouta’s chilled hands cup his jaw, while he wound his arms the best he could around the other’s neck.

The kissed continued until their lips started to hurt, and their lungs cried for air. They laid in silence, the only sound being them catching their breath.

After a few moments, Shouta spoke. “That…”

“Hm?”

“...I like that.”

Hizashi grinned and snuggled close. “Hmm, I’ll keep that noted….cause, I like that too.”

By the time the clock read 7am, the two were finally asleep. Black and gold hair splayed over the pillows as they slept.

[pennywaltzy]

A Boon For You, A Boon For Me (1 - 2/?)

So I just realized I had never put the first chapter on this journal, so this is the two chapters I’ve finished so far in one post, and then new ones will go up as I write them. Hopefully this will please all the Mollcroft fans out there (especially @strangelock221b).

A Boon For You, A Boon For Me - When Molly saves the life of a fairy prince, she’s given the chance to ask for whatever her heart most desires, and since what she wants to do most is help others, she’s given the ability to grant boons by the prince’s eldest brother. Little does she imagine such a simple and generous wish will change her life forever...

Read Chapter 1 | Read Chapter 2 | Help Me Survive? | Commission Me?

He was not quite what she expected a fairy to be. Well, perhaps she did, as he looked similar to the bureaucratic ones in The Fairly Oddparents, she realized, taking in the suit and die and very well-shined shoes. But they weren’t fairies, were they? It really had been a long time since she’d caught that series.

“Miss?”

He spoke, and she had to admit, he didn’t sound monotone like the animated creatures did. Bored, yes, but not nasally or just...flat. There was warmth in his voice and it was nice and deep. Almost soothing? That was a delightful surprise.

But he’d asked her a question before she went off into the train of thought on the child’s cartoon and really, it was polite to answer questions promptly.

“What would you recommend I take as a boon?” she asked, curious.

He blinked, as though no one had ever asked his opinion before. And perhaps it was the novelty of the question that caused his reply. “A million wishes.”

“Can you do that?” she asked.

“No. But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try. I could go up the chain of command and ask, at least. You have done a great service rescuing our prince.”

She turned and looked at the curly black haired fairy currently pouting off to the side. She had no idea how she had known he was one of the Fair Folk, but she had spirited him out of the A&E while he was in his state and smuggled him to her flat near the hospital. At least he had come out of his delirious state long enough to tell her how to contact someone to collect him. Otherwise, she may have had an unwanted flatmate. The curly haired man had such an attitude.

Eventually, she turned back to the older fairy, if older was a term that could be used. “Perhaps I could grant boons?”

If her first question had surprised him, this one caused his eyebrows to disappear right into his hairline. “You want to grant boons?”

“Well, not all of them, obviously, or I’d intrude too much into your territory, but...maybe little ones? Like giving blessings to newborns?”

He tilted his head and shut his eyes, as though he was listening to a faraway conversation. When he straightened his head and opened his eyes again, he was frowning. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“Oh,” she said.

“You have to grant all the boons, no matter how large they are.”

Her eyes widened as she looked at him. She could have this wish? She could do some good in the world after all? Oh, that was a lovely thought. She smiled at him. “Then I’ll take this boon,” she said.

“Very well,” he said with a nod. He lifted up his umbrella and then tapped the end on top of her head very lightly. She felt a curious warm tingling spread through her from the top of her head to the tips of her fingers and the soles of her feet. Eventually, the warmth faded but the tingling stayed. “I have been told to help train you in your newfound gift.”

“Oh! Oh, very well,” she said. “So I’ll see you again?”

“Yes, you will,” he said. “Miss…?”

“Hooper,” she said. “But you can call me Molly.”

“Very well,” he said, pursing his lips together. “I suppose you can call me Mycroft.”

“Then I hope to see you again soon, Mycroft,” she said with a smile. He nodded in return and then went to the faerie prince and cuffed the back of his head before hauling him up to his feet and then wings coming out from behind his back. The wings were not drab in the slightest, with a beautiful pattern on them, though they were in a shade of gray so close to white she was surprised she could see the patterns. Then, as she watched, he and the faerie prince shrunk in size to mere specks of light and then went out the open window into the night. She raced to the window, searching for any sign of them, but all she saw were stars in the sky.

Ah well. At least Mycroft would be back. She was very pleased with the idea of seeing him again...

Five Years Later

“Dr. Hooper!”

Molly whirled around and looked at the nurse heading her way. “Yes?”

“Your...friend...is at the A&E asking for you again.”

Molly grinned and shook her head. The way he’d said “friend” made her think that there were quite a few people at the hospital who thought Mycroft was her boyfriend and not her mentor. She’d say he was her friend; he would say nothing of the sort, even though she knew he was fond of her. He had been fond of her for the last five years and not once admitted it, but she knew. “I’ll be there in a moment,” she replied, lifting the stethoscope off from around her neck and stuffing it into her pocket, fingering her wand as she did.

They had decided long ago that yes, she would need a wand and no, it could not be a regular wand. Obviously, there was the fact she was not fae, and no one in Mycroft’s realm had been sure if they could even make a wand that would work for a human, albeit Molly was a human who could grant boons. Once they had found something that worked for her, there was the matter of finding an inconspicuous way to keep it on her person. In the end, she had a silver tongue depressor with camouflaging magic on it so that it could only be seen as silver when it was about to be used. Otherwise, it looked like one of the cheap wooden ones.

She made her way to the A&E and saw Mycroft in his normal suit…

...and an unconscious Sherlock next to him on the seat.

“Bloody hell,” she muttered under her breath as she made her way to Mycroft. “What happened to him?”

“We have no idea,” Mycroft said, a tinge of worry in his voice. “I found him here on the streets after a nearly fruitless search of our realm and the area outside of London. Whatever has its hooks into him, they are in deep.”

Molly nodded and then checked the watch on her wrist. It was one of the few pieces of fae jewelry she’d chosen to accept in thanks of rescuing the Prince; it was platinum and had semi-precious stones on the watch face and in most instances ran like a normal watch, but a tap of her wand to it and she could learn anything she needed about whatever she was to involve herself, the knob on her watch acting as a scrollbar of sorts. It was one-of-a-kind even among the fae and it had been charmed to never be taken off her wrist and to survive anything thrown at it.

She knew the lobby of an A&E was no place to use it to see just what the wayward Prince had gotten into this time, so she went to one side of Sherlock and Mycroft stooped down, and between them they hoisted him to his feet and carried him out to the car lot where the employees parked. Molly shoved him into the backseat and then looked at Mycroft. “I have to go sign out and leave a few instructions, but we can take him to my flat and figure out what to do next.”

“Thank you,” Mycroft said gratefully. He went to the passenger side and let himself in, using his wand to unlock her door, and she shoved her hands into the pockets of her scrubs and went back inside the hospital.

Somehow, along with fulfilling boons every so often when the regular fairy godparents got overwhelmed or granting dying requests on her own for those who left her A&E through the morgue, she became Sherlock’s keeper. She had no idea how that task had fallen to her but she was well compensated by the fae of Sherlock and Mycroft’s realm when she got him out of scrapes. It helped she was good friends with a few of the policemen and policewomen who occasionally had reason to come to her hospital. But sooner or later his good luck was going to wear off, and she and Mycroft both knew it.

Maybe this was the start. It had been five years since she’d found him in the drugged stupor and he’d managed to stay as sober as a fae could in that time. Maybe this was a relapse? Hopefully not, but she had no idea how to enact a twelve step program for the fae.

She got back inside and finished up her rounds as quickly as she could, pausing to work some magic to make a daughter get the urge to call her mum before the mum went into a risky surgery. There was always the chance the woman would live, but if she didn’t, at least there would be a chance for the two to have a proper goodbye, hopefully. Not all of her boons worked out the way she expected them to, but she was still learning.

She didn’t bother to change out of her scrubs, black ones with Sylvester chasing Tweety across them, and all she did was grab her handbag, fish out her keys and let her hair out of its ponytail briefly to redo it into a tight bun. She had the feeling there wouldn’t be the chance to do much more than grab a quick shower before crashing into bed and she wasn’t in the mood to have her hair keep brushing the back of her neck.

When she got to the car she found Mycroft looking at it in wonder, and then it hit her. He hadn’t been able to get near her old car because it was cold iron, but this one was made of some metal alloy that she had made sure had no trace of iron in it whatsoever. She was sure it had sounded weird but she couldn’t keep calling cabs to haul Sherlock all over the place. “Would you like to take it for a spin?” she asked Mycroft with a smile.

“Er...no, thank you,” he said. “I want to make sure Sherlock is settled and then we can talk.”

Her smile lowered in intensity and shape until it was a frown. “Mycroft, how long is he going to be staying with me this time?”

“Indefinitely,” he said. “And he’s not the only one.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on,” she said, turning to face him.

“Our father is ill. There’s a belief he’s been poisoned by something in your realm. Some suspect Sherlock himself may have poisoned him since he spends so much time in the human realm. He was banished from court on suspicion of attempted murder. And our mother bade me to keep watch on him and to find the cause of what happened to our father. So...”

Molly sighed and then turned and started the car. “Good thing I have things your brother likes to eat from your realm,” she said. “I just need more if you’re staying too.”

“That can be arranged,” Mycroft said with a nod. “Thank you, Molly.”

“You’re welcome,” she said as she turned to back out of her spot. She didn’t want to get caught up in court intrigue, not by a long shot, but she knew that she would be offering Mycroft any help she could...no matter what it cost her.

[cinnaminsvga]

Memento Mori | Jimin

→ summary: At 7:49PM, Park Jimin is supposed to die. In his last 24 hours, it is your job as a grim reaper to make it his last good day by impersonating a lost loved one and giving him closure. Against all odds, your visit only makes it harder for him to pass on. 

→ genre: angst, grim reaper!reader

→ warnings: character death, mentions of suicide/depression/self-loathing

→ pairing(s): Jimin x Reader; Jimin x Hoseok

→ words: 4K

→ a/n: semi-based on HYYH series plot line, but I took A LOT of artistic liberties. you’ll see the similarities thought, just thought you should know. this is basically a series chronicling grim reaper!reader’s three most heartbreaking missions. 

→ masterlist // mission 99 // mission 100 // mission 2

Mission #99

Client: Park Jimin

Age: 18 years old

Death Date: October 8, 20XX.

Death Time: 7:49PM

Chance of Death: 95% success rate; medium chance of fluctuation

Cause of Death: Suicide by drowning

Grim Reaper in charge: L/N Y/N

Host: Jung Hoseok; Park Jimin’s close friend

––♡♡♡––

“Hoseok-hyung? You’re back?”

A boy with messy bleached blonde hair and tired brown eyes stares at you incredulously, as if he has just seen a ghost. Technically, he isn’t wrong.

“Hey Jimin, missed me?” You tease, your voice sounding giggly and optimistic, just like how he might have sounded like when the two boys last met. You still aren’t used to this new appearance, but you try your best to imitate Hoseok’s ticks and habits as closely as possible.

You expect Jimin to flounder about, unbelieving of seeing the dead suddenly among the living once again. You ready yourself with an explanation, a way to explain how a dead man could be standing in front of a dingy Busan high school as if his two-week disappearance had all just been a dream.

You find no questions escaping Jimin’s lips; instead, he drops his school bag with a resounding thud as you are suddenly withstanding the force of a scrawny 18-year old boy catapulting himself onto you with a vice-like hug.

“Woah there, kid!” You laugh, patting his fluffy hair endearingly. “I’m not as strong as I look, you know?” You try prying Jimin off your body to take a look at his face, but you find that Jimin wasn’t budging. As you feel his body start to shudder, you take that as a telltale sign that Jimin is probably crying in relief.

But when Jimin finally removes himself from you, his eyes are dry.

He smiles as bright as the sun, discreetly trying to sniffle away any signs of tears. His eyes crinkle cheerily, as if the sad kid who had walked out of the school building just a minute ago never existed.

This is the Jimin that existed before Hoseok had disappeared.

“I’m… sorry. It’s just… It’s good to see you, hyung.” He whispers it like it’s a secret.

You try to smile just as brightly. You aren’t sure if it works, but Jimin doesn’t comment.

“It’s good to see you too, Jimin. Now, let’s get you home, shall we?”

Any sort of awkwardness or tension slowly melts away as the two of you start walking back to Jimin’s house. You choose to follow him from behind, as you weren’t quite as sure of where the two of you were supposed to go (you’re sure Hoseok probably knew exactly where Jimin’s house is, but you failed to memorize the map before coming to his high school.) Jimin doesn’t seem to mind, however, as he continues to talk animatedly about his day, all while walking backwards with a grin on his face.

“And so, Taemin shoots the spitball at Kyungsoo’s head when he wasn’t looking! Oh man, it was utter chaos! I was sure Seulgi was going to call the princi—“

“Aish, Jimin!” You suddenly call out, pulling him out of the way as he almost rams himself against a not very kindly looking man. The older man only huffs in annoyance before promptly grumbling away. As you send Jimin a teasingly angry look, he at least has the decency to look sheepish.

“Whoops, I guess walking backwards is harder than it looks, huh?” He giggles melodically, and you try your hardest to ignore the guilt rising up from your stomach.

He’s definitely going to be one of the more difficult ones to let go of.

“You don’t need to walk backwards, you idiot. Here,” you say, grabbing Jimin’s hand in your own. You don’t fail to notice the pale blush spreading on Jimin’s face, but you don’t acknowledge it either. It’ll only make things harder if you did.

“See? If we hold hands, at least I can stop your stupid ass from bumping into every person on the street.” You joke, and the weird atmosphere slowly dissipates. Jimin laughs at your jab, but the sound ends quicker than it did before. From the corner of your eye, you see Jimin staring at your linked hands.

The rest of the walk home becomes more muted as Jimin starts talking about his after school dance practices. The look on his face is serious, maybe even ashamed. You ask him what’s wrong.

“Hyung… I haven’t danced in a month.”

Your grip on his hand stops the two of you in your tracks. This information isn’t new to you, because it was highlighted in yellow in his death report. But the deep breath you take isn’t fake; you genuinely ache for him.

“Why? I thought dance was your life. It’s our life.” You state more than ask, and Jimin fidgets under your weighty stare. Your gaze softens, and you rub circles of comfort over his clenched fist. He looks away before he speaks.

“It is my life… but when you disappeared after that night, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep it.”

It? Was it his passion for dance? Or his life?

You don’t ask that question. Instead, you take his chin in your unoccupied hand to tilt his face towards you. His eyes are still downcast—irises flitting about apprehensively. You know that he still has something to ask, but it seems like you were going to have to push him a bit to make him speak. So, you lower your head to make eye contact with him, waving jokingly at his face.

“Hello? Earth to Jimin? Go on, say whatever is on that silly brain of yours. I know you want to tell me something.” You say, rolling your eyes before pointing a comforting smile at him. Jimin’s smile resurfaces like lightning, before disappearing just as quickly.

“It’s just… I heard from some classmates that you overdosed a few weeks ago. And when you suddenly stopped coming by the school during dismissal, my brain went to the worst place and I… I just thought—“Jimin’s voice catches mid-sentence, cracking slightly from emotion. He clasps a hand around his mouth, as if unwilling to finish the thought. A dark look encompasses his face, but his eyes remain dry.

You start to panic. Fuck. This is bad. You can’t make Jimin’s last day a sad one. You got to turn the conversation around.

“Oh Jiminie! Is that what was worrying you all this time? You know me; I was just cooped up in the dance studio these days. I finally found this awesome mixtape for my showcase. You ever heard of Rap Monster?” The lie falls smoothly off your tongue, and you’re suddenly grateful that you had read that part of Hoseok’s file just as deeply as you had analyzed Jimin’s, or else you wouldn’t have known about his dance activities at all.

It is only with some guilt when you allow yourself to bask in the warmth of Jimin’s grin.

“Rap Monster? What kind of name is that?” He laughs heartily, his giggles pitching to almost sound like little squeaks from how happily he shook.

In that moment, Jimin certainly didn’t look like the type to commit suicide in a bathtub. Not a lot of people ever do, but you suppose that’s why they say you can never judge a book by its cover.

The thought leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

Not soon after, the two of you arrive outside Jimin’s small apartment. Your hands are still intertwined when Jimin goes to open the door.

“Hey, want to go upstairs and play some video games?” He chirps, tugging you along to the inside of his home. Just as you are about to enter, however, your phone rings. You jump at the sound, surprised to be getting a notification in the middle of your mission.

Almost reluctantly, you separate your hands in order to reach for your phone. Your eyes widen at the warning signs on your display screen, and you are quick to push Jimin inside his home lest he get a glimpse of your text. “Uh, sorry Jimin. I got a call from work. You go on up, ok? I’ll catch up.”

Jimin seems unwilling to let go for some reason, and you are almost afraid that Jimin might refuse, that he knows the truth and that you’re not actually Hoseok—

The weird look on Jimin’s face vanishes soon after, but the tension from his odd stare remains. “Alright… but don’t bail on me alright? My mom left some fried chicken for dinner, and I really don’t want to finish it myself!” He tries to jest, but you don’t miss the subtle message in his tone: don’t leave me.

After you nod your head and promise that you won’t leave, Jimin gives you one last look before closing the door. The moment Jimin’s prying eyes leave your form, you quickly unlock your phone where his death file is still open.

Everything still seems to be in order, except—

“Shit,” you mutter, watching in horror as his “Chance of Death” lowered by the second. It had been a solid 95% this morning, but now you were watching in real-time as the percentage dropped to as low as 68%.

You curse to yourself, pocketing your phone and taking a deep breath. It seems “Hoseok’s” reappearance has reignited Jimin’s will to live, meaning you are inadvertently preventing his death. This is definitely not good.

You can only avoid death so many times before it catches up with you—and you didn’t want it to hold Jimin down by the throat. He didn’t deserve a death worse than the one already predetermined for him. This was supposed to be his last good day.

Think. You have to increase those chances to at least 95% again in order to consider this mission a success. Assortments of ideas filter through your head, but all of them seem so indescribably cruel that it almost pains you to do them.

But you had to. An escaped death would have been much crueler, in the end. If Seokjin had taught you anything about helping humans evade death, it’s that it would only hurt you and them in the process.

Jimin was not going to be another Yoongi. You can’t allow it.

Park Jimin has to die today, and you had to make sure of that.

When you muster the energy to go inside his home, you are startled to find Jimin shirtless, seemingly in the midst of changing. He yelps at your sudden reappearance, a steady red blush rising from his chest to his neck. He licks his lips nervously, and you force your eyes to stay trained on his own.

He quickly puts his shirt on. “You came back.” He breathes out.

You swallow drily, before nodding and feigning disinterest as you try not to look too disappointed that he put his clothes on so quickly. The tension is fucking palpable, and you can feel yourself choking on your own spit. You plop yourself on the couch, giving him an expectant look as you pat the space beside you.

“Video games, right?” you smile, breaking the silence.

Stepping out of his reverie, Jimin shakes his head, coughing lightly as he goes over to his gaming console and pops in a random game to play. He chucks an extra controller at you, and you stare with wide-eyed amazement as you see the numerous stickers decorating it. Glittery hearts and smiley faces are scattered all around it, making its original black color almost unrecognizable under the sheer color of the stickers.

Jimin smirks at your dumbfounded look. “Why do you look so surprised? Don’t you remember when you said you wanted to, what did you say? Stake your claim on the better controller that didn’t have messed up buttons?”

You gulp, looking at Jimin then back at the controller. Holy fuck, they really were whipped for each other.

“Uh… yeah. Obviously, you sabotaged the other controller which is why I always lost in the games!” You still aren’t over how fucking in love Jimin was with this dude. Fuck, how hadn’t you noticed? You itch to look at the status of Jimin’s chance of death.

“Oh, shut up hyung! You lose every single time we play, no matter what! I think you just like saying my stuff is yours,” he laughs, but it sounds forced, embarrassed. A deep flush coats his cheeks yet again and you try to wrack your brain as to why he would seem flustered by a little comment—

Oh right. He was referencing that night again.

“Let’s… just play the game, alright?” You say not unkindly, but your subtle rejection makes itself known on Jimin’s face as his eyes droop even lower, before carefully placing himself beside you, with some space between your two bodies.

As it turns out, even though you’re impersonating Hoseok, you obviously don’t acquire any of his skills, and that includes both dancing and gaming. So when Jimin defeats you for the tenth time in Mortal Kombat, it is almost a surprise that Jimin doesn’t find it odd that you were just button mashing your way through the rounds.

“Hyung! What the fuck! You’re so shit at this game!” Jimin laughs, throwing his body onto yours in his fit of glee. You tense up at the contact, trying to inconspicuously inch away from his body until he finally gets the hint. Jimin freezes in his giggling, before retracting away from you in an instant. He looks away from you, and rubs his neck in embarrassment.

He coughs awkwardly. “Uh, sorry about that.”

You try to shrug it off, but your heart pains for him. He loves Hoseok so damn much. “It’s okay. You didn’t mean it.”

Oh, he fucking meant it all right.

In the wake of the uncomfortable silence, you happen to glance at your watch and almost gasp when you notice the minute hand slowly reach 7:01PM. Your head snaps up to Jimin, who was gazing at you forlornly.

“Oh…Are you leaving so soon, hyung?” His voice drops by the end of the sentence, his stare finally breaking and turning towards the floor instead. “That’s too bad.”

You seriously debate leaving right now. This mission was already starting to look too much like Yoongi’s. Even looking at Jimin’s sad face was starting to make you hyperventilate in fear, your repressed memories slowly rising up.

Dark black eyes staring pleadingly at you, his rosy red lips begging to be kissed again. He whispers, “Don’t leave.”

You shake your head, willing the thoughts to go away. Bad, bad, bad.

But as you sneak a peek at your phone to check Jimin’s percentage, it still hasn’t reached 90%, and you know from experience that the best way to know that they were truly going to die is if the percentage reached 95%, so you couldn’t just hope that he would suddenly want to die within the span of 40 minutes.

No. You had to do something. Something cruel.

Even though Park Jimin was your 99th mission, it never gets any easier.

“No, Jiminie. I’m not leaving just yet. You can’t kick me out that easily!” You slap Jimin on the back playfully, and the gesture makes your phone ping in response. Fuck. That means it lowered again.

You clear your throat. “Hey, Jiminie. Mind if I use the bathroom real quick though?”

Jimin looks at you semi-strangely. “Why are you asking all of sudden, like you have manners? You normally just go and take a shit whenever you want to, gross-hyung.”

To save yourself from your slip-up, you yawn over-dramatically, taking care to make your face look as ugly as possible. To your disappointment, you hear Jimin laugh endearingly, and you can only imagine how low the percentage is right now.

“Oh fuck, I don’t know what’s happening to me, Jimin. I guess I’m starting to get senile from all that dancing.” (A weird joke between Jimin and Hoseok that you still didn’t quite understand, but you’re guessing it was the correct thing to say because Jimin shrugs off your strangeness almost immediately after.)

Rolling his eyes, he grabs your hand and drags you to the toilet himself, all the while whispering how “you are such a drama queen” the entire way. He directs you to the bathroom, and it almost appears as if he wants to follow before you give him a hard gaze and he flushes embarrassedly, running his hand through his hair before tripping his way back to the living room.

You watch his retreating form and wish with all your heart that you could turn him around, tell him once and for all who you were and that you’re not actually—

You banish those thoughts to the deepest recesses of your heart. This is not the time to be soft. You can’t allow it. Not again.

As you close the door with a resounding ‘click,’ you hurriedly check your phone to see Jimin’s file once again.

Current Time: 7:07PM

Chance of Death: 74%

Although it wasn’t as low an hour ago, it is still not even nearly good enough. You are in the middle of figuring out how to go about raising his percentage when you happen to notice the water heater unplugged.

That’s no good. His bath water would be cold.

You open the door, peering out into the living room. “Oy, Jimin! Your heater isn’t plugged in!”

The soft pattering footsteps indicate Jimin’s approach. “Huh? Why are you looking at my water heater, weirdo?” He says, looking inside to see what you were doing. He raises a brow. “Were you gonna shower or something?”

“No, but like…how do you even handle showering? Cold water is shit!”

Jimin shrugs. “Oh. Well, I like to shower in cold water. They say it’s healthier.”

“Healthy, smellthy! Are you a masochist? Hot baths are the best!”

“It’s okay, really. I’m used to cold water and colder beds.” He suddenly spits out, and the dark look that had encompassed his face a while ago makes its return. You stare wide-eyed at him, realization dawning on you. Oh. That night again.

“Jimin…”

Jimin finally snaps. “Don’t Jimin me, hyung. What happened? What changed? Why did you disappear after… after that? We were so close back then. I’m always happiest when I am with you, and I know you are the same. Are? Were? I don’t know anymore! It’s just…” he takes a breath, swallowing heavily. You look at his eyes: dry as the desert, still.

“When you disappeared, I thought…I thought it was because of me. That you were disgusted with yourself, that you had chosen to be with someone like me—“

Your heart breaks even further. Don’t say that about yourself, please. That’s further from the truth. Hoseok loved you so much. Please.

Please, stop.

But Jimin doesn’t stop.

“Then this afternoon, you suddenly reappear into my life and it’s like nothing happened. I was fine with letting myself think this was like how we were before. You’re making me laugh and making me remember what it was like to be happy. I thought we could just go back to being friends. But I can’t.” He pauses, breathing heavily. He stares pitifully at you.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about that night. You held me so tightly, hyung. You kissed away every drop of hate I had for myself in my body and made me actually feel loved—as if I was worthy of it. So when you came back to me today and started making me remember, it made me think that…that night couldn’t have been a mistake. That you remember it, that we could still be something more. That my anxieties can finally be put to rest because you are finally reciprocating and yet! And yet.”

And yet.

“You still push me away. I see it, you know. I may be suicidal, but I’m not dumb, hyung. Just, tell me. What do you want from me?” He gasps out, despair clinging onto every word that Jimin uttered.

He said it. He really admitted it.

In that moment, wave after wave of sadness and pity washes over you. The pain of seeing such hopeful eyes, a gaze that whispered of stuttered promises at the dead of night and unspoken vows never to be uttered. A future waiting to bloom, if only you not been an imposter.

In a different universe, Hoseok would be standing where you stood, and he’d kiss away all of his unshed tears away.

It was all too fucking dreadful—horrendous even—to bear.

You wished so badly that you weren’t standing here, watching as a man in love watched his lover—you—hold his entire life in your hands. You wished you weren’t tasked with this fucking mission, that you had gotten some random old man instead of this boy who had too much love in his bones.

You wished that you didn’t look like the boy who carried Jimin’s heart. But most of all:

You wished Hoseok hadn’t died, so Jimin wouldn’t have had to die as well.

In the back of your mind, a voice whispers, tempting you.

Save him. Save him, please. He isn’t going to be like Yoongi. You will save him, Y/N. He is worth the pain. He is going to make it; he has to. Please, don’t let him die. Please.

You ignore the way the voice sounds like a man’s, like a man in love with the boy in front of you. You squash it, suppress it, burn it.

I’m sorry, Hoseok. No one can save a dead man.

“I don’t want anything from you, Jimin. I never did. I’m sorry.”

74%…78%…

“What? Hyung, I know you’re dealing with things right now, but I swear, I can fix myself. I can—“

“It’s not that. We just can’t.”

78%…80%…

“Why?”

“I can’t give you what you want because…because I don’t want to.”

80%…85%…

“Hyung…?”

“Jimin. I can’t love you. I don’t love you. I never did. I used you as a warm body on a cold day. It wasn’t real. I’m sorry.” You were feeding his anxieties, making it fester and boil and mature. It was eating him alive; you could see it.

85%…90%…

“You don’t mean that. You don’t… You’re not like that.” His voice warbles, and it might have been the trick of the light but you swear that his eyes start to shine. But no tears fall, still. You aren’t sure if you could continue if he did start to cry. You wish he would start to cry, just so you could fucking stop.

“Why do you think I disappeared for so long? I was guilty for using you, so I went far away. Along the way, I met someone, Jiminie. Someone who can actually complete me. I wanted someone whole, you know? I’m sorry. In fact, she’s texting me right now.” You take this moment to check your phone, pretending to text this fake girl in order to see Jimin’s file.

Current Time: 7:24PM

Chance of Death: 93%

You look back up. You stare at the space above his head, in fear of what you’d actually see. You were a coward, and so you quietly choked on your sins.

You seal the deal. “In the end, Jimin, all I wanted to do today was just to apologize. I’m sorry.”

93%...95%

Your phone beeps the moment you finish your sentence. You swallow heavily, a sob almost making its escape from your throat.

And so you turn, not wanting to see the destruction you leave. You are cowardly. You are more than ready to dash out of there and never return when your eyes land on the heater again. You quickly push in the plug, feeling his eyes drilling holes into the back of your skull. You wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans.

You still don’t look back, but you manage to say, “Have a good bath, okay Jiminie?”

How cruel. How despicably cruel.

You rush out, never taking one glance back.

You run as fast as you can, the tears finally flowing as your disguise melts away from your body. Bright orange hair slowly starts to dull to its original color, perfect nose turning back to its meager appearance. You were no longer Hoseok. You were yourself.

And so, you allowed yourself to grieve.

In the end, you never got to give Park Jimin proper closure like you had intended, but the rules of your business are simple but strict. Death before closure; that was the rule. Park Jimin’s last day was not a good day, and it was all your fault.

As you look up at the setting sun, the only comfort that will help you sleep at night was the fact at the very least, his bath water will be warm when he dies.

At 7:39PM, Jimin unplugs the heater.

At 7:44PM, the water fills up to the brink. Jimin submerges his head.

At 7:49PM, the house is still.

[emilyplaysotome]

Dating Diaries - Chapter 4 - One Day

Inspired by real events, Emi enters the dating world after her long term relationship ends. Determined to move forward, she starts dating and quickly finds herself in over her head.

In case you missed it, here are the previous chapters:

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

I paced like a caged lioness in my now spotless apartment.

I’d cleaned every inch of it in anticipation of Kazumi’s arrival, and as our reunion became more and more imminent, the anxiety within me began to spiral out of control.

On this particular visit, we’d planned for him to stay with me in my apartment - rather than get a hotel room which seemed like a waste. 

I already regretted that decision seeing as how I was mentally preparing to ask Kazumi straight up how he felt about me. With no hotel room available, should the answer be the one I didn’t care for I’d be forced to suffer through a night with a man who had rejected me.

This would be the fifth time we saw each other in real life. 

It would be the third month of knowing each other as we communicated most days over TalkTime. I knew that my feelings were starting to become something real, and at times I felt as if I were on a runaway train with Kazumi as the conductor.

I’d taken the time spent away from Makoto (who was on holiday but still texted), before Kazumi’s arrival to reflect and had realized that our whole nebulous relationship had played out on his terms up until this point. 

Granted, I had not explicitly made any demands but it was obvious that he was in charge. We spoke on his terms - when he had time, not when I wanted to.

He made me wonder how he felt about me - if I was just a fling or maybe something more...

...and I needed to know if I could be something more because my heart was beginning to hope.

Hey Sunshine! I’m almost at your place - do you need me to pick you up anything?

No, that’s sweet but I’m really nervous. Just hurry up and get here already...

To that Kazu sent me a selfie of himself in the cab he was currently en route in, along with the caption, “How can you be nervous over such a simple guy with such a simple smile?”

You had to laugh at the fact that an award winning author with an impressive wikipedia page and tragic life story would dare call himself “simple”, but that was just another reason I adored him so much. 

He was full of contradictions and always fun.

You’re the least simple person I know. See you soon.

On our second date, Kazumi had made the trip from Kyoto to Tokyo under the guise that he had “meetings” to attend. He had gotten a hotel room for himself and texted me the day of to his arrival to ask if I was around.

His visit had come after 2 weeks of being apart and texting everyday. 

He’d told me that he missed my eyes, and hands, and smile the day after we’d met. From there he’d ask me about my day, or tell me about his, always letting me know that I was beautiful and that he missed me despite barely knowing me.

A few days before he’d arrived I had a sneaking suspicion he might try and visit as he covertly attempted to figure out what my plans were that weekend via TalkTime. When he did show up, the thing that surprised me most was when he bashfully admitted that the real purpose of this trip was not work meetings on Monday but to see me again.

I remember being happy and also incredibly freaked out that he would go so out of his way for me - a woman he’d only met once.

Mostly though, I was happy.

Neither Shizuo, nor any other man I’d ever met had done something so romantic on what seemed like a whim, and even though I made it clear that I was not going to sleep with him, I still ended up spending the night - talking and cuddling with him until I fell asleep in his arms.

We didn’t see each other for three weeks after that.

While apart, we continued to talk but he admitted that he was not able to keep up with my texting. What used to be in-depth, hour long conversations became a bit more infrequent but with that said, I didn’t mind.

I got used to his weird old-man texts.

For a writer, Kazu was pretty funny over TalkTime. 

Whenever he was upset he’d used multiple “!” and whenever I sent him something he liked (for example my corporate headshot for our company website) he’d use extra consonants to try and express that he thought I was pretty (”wowwwwwwww” he’d said).

These little Kazu-isms filled my heart with warmth, and I giggled over how pure they were in a sense, especially considering the fact that they were coming from a 40 year old man.

There was one night that we were talking when Kazu told me I’d become special to him. 

It had been out of left field to a degree - I’d told him that I’d read a book of his finally and as a result had gone down a bit of an intellectual rabbit hole which led me to an article that I thought he might appreciate.

Sunshine...I am so happy my words make you think like this :) I am looking forward to reading this article.

You don’t have to but you might like it. I thought it was a good “truth is stranger than fiction” companion to your murder mystery.

I will read it! I want to say this too...I know that I’m going to care about you forever and I hope that I’ll be able to keep you close to me in some way...even if you find some young man you like better than me.

I can’t see liking anyone more than you Kazu. 

I’d meant that too.

A week after that exchange Kazu came to Tokyo and it was during that visit when I’d learn about his “other lady” in Kyoto per my request. I respected and appreciated his transparency with me, and because it was obvious that he was honest despite the discomfort in having to be, I felt safe enough to sleep with him.

Before Shizuo I’d been with a few other guys, but being with Kazumi was like a completely different experience for me. It was passionate and animalistic, but somehow also kind and loving.

When he left I found myself feeling happier than I’d ever been in my life, and a week later he came back, noting that he “had to see me again before a month of [his] book tour.”

That fourth date was when he really started to open up to me. 

While in his arms he quietly told me about his childhood, and how at 7 years old his parents had died in a car accident. As a writer, he was able to go into detail about his grief and trauma surrounding the incident and I found tears quietly streaming down my face as he spoke.

He also told me about his first heartbreak (though not in detail), and how in some ways that was just as difficult as losing his parents. He quietly explained (and apologized) for keeping people at arm’s length for fear of growing too close and losing someone special.

“I’ve lost too many people in my life Sunshine...but I can already tell that I don’t want to lose you.”

Those moments are the reason why I held on to Kazumi in his absence. 

They’re the reason why I pined for him despite the fact that he was unable to be as “present” as Makoto had been in the week we’d been together.

They felt deeper...but at the same time words are pretty, but actions speak louder.

Knowing that there were many moments that Kazumi was in Kyoto or elsewhere using the app we’d met on (thanks to public geotracking) plunged my heart into darkness. I knew that it had only been four dates spread over 2 months, but if he had asked me to be his I would have said yes without a second thought.

Why did he feel the need to go out with others if I was someone he was sure he didn’t want to lose?

He was maybe lying...

...or just selfish.

These were the thoughts that plagued me while apart from him, and I knew that on this fifth date I would need to get answers - even if it meant that this would be the last time I’d ever see him.

The intercom rang and I could feel myself shaking with nerves as I buzzed him into my apartment building. I slowly unlocked the door, preparing myself to see him after a month.

What if he looked different? What if he thought I looked different? What if we didn’t -

“Sunshine...”

Kazumi looked at me with those kind eyes of his that were never quite the same in the photos we sent each other while apart. He held out a bouquet of flowers for me (tulips to be exact) and with a grin added.

“It came with flower food. Very advanced.”

“Kazu...”

I could feel myself starting to shake. 

My nerves were getting the better of me, and I could feel affection welling up to the point I wondered if I should tell him that I wasn’t just starting to fall for him, but that I had already fallen.

Kazumi gently rested the flowers on the small table in my foyer and closed the front door behind him before taking me in his arms.

“I missed you so much Sunshine. I missed this so much.”

“Me too.”

I don’t know how long we stood there, but I knew that I was the happiest I’d been all week. 

I knew that unless something went awry, I was just going to fall more hopelessly in love with the man in front of me and because of how deep I already was in, I needed to know how he felt or run the risk of setting myself up for heartbreak so soon after Shizuo.

I know it sounds dramatic, but that moment at my door I wished that time would stretch on in a way that allowed me to live in that moment for longer than I’d be able. 

I found myself so scared that the answers wouldn’t be what I wanted, and that this was the last time I would be near him like this. That moment of being able to feel him and hold onto him was a moment that let me love him and pretend that he might love me too.

However, time doesn’t work that way and before I knew it he pulled his body away from mine before kissing me gently.

“You’ll get a real kiss once I’ve eaten and your nerves have calmed.”

I nodded, unable to speak, still shaking from the anxiety.

“I found a curry place around the corner from here - is that ok?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah Emi. My sweet Emi. I really did miss you.”

The walk over to the restaurant was uneventful. 

I’d managed to stop shaking and had started psyching myself up to deliver a speech of sorts where I would tell Kazumi that I couldn’t figure him out and that I wanted him to be honest about what his feelings were towards me.

I prepared myself for my biggest fear, which was that he would say I was fun and cute and if this stopped being fun for me he would understand.

“Kazu...”

“Alright. I know what I want - do you know what you want?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh boy,” he said with a chuckle. “I know that look of yours...”

“I...”

“You’ve got all the time in the world with me today Emi - let’s order first and then you can say as much as you want, alright?”

He reached across the table and took my hand in his, rubbing the back of it gently with his thumb. It reminded me of our first date, when we’d sat together at a restaurant and he’d somehow managed to do the same thing despite the fact that up until that point I hadn’t let a man touch me since Shizuo.

For some reason that day, I’d let him and with a mischievous smile he’d asked me if I liked the way he touched me.

I did then, and I did now.

When the waiter had left us, I took a deep breath and delivered my speech to Kazumi.

I told him that I couldn’t figure him out. I told him that he hid his feelings too well behind his words and his playfulness. I told him that I was starting to feel a lot for him and that I was frightened - convinced at times that I was just a young plaything to him that was nothing more than an exciting fuck, which in turn helped him to feel youthful again.

I asked him what he wanted from me. 

What this was exactly and what his ideal scenario was with us.

And then I waited - my eyes glued to a spot on the table for fear of what his expression might be.

“Sunshine...”

“What?”

“Sunshine...look at me.”

Kazumi’s gaze was soft and sweet, and I felt myself relax a little under it. 

“I don’t take a train 6 hours just because you’re good in the sack. I mean you are...but that’s not why I do it.”

“So why then?”

“Mmmm why indeed...”

“Kazu stop - I’m serious. I know you’re seeing that...other lady and I’m just confused why you bother when you have someone in the same city. And that’s not even a jealousy thing - it just doesn’t make sense to me.”

“It’s simple. I really like you Emi. I want you in my life - I can already tell that you’re someone who is going to be really special to me.”

“But what’s your ideal in all this? Like...I know you’ve said you don’t want to know about if I’m seeing anyone but do you care if I am?”

“Of course. I don’t want to know because I think I’d go mad with jealousy.”

“But then...I just don’t understand what you want.”

“What I want...I guess...maybe one day when you feel more ready, and when I’m ready...you’d be my girlfriend. I’d visit you here and you’d come to Kyoto to see me.”

"But what about...”

“There’s no future there for me, just fun...but you’re not there yet anyway right? That ex of yours...you’re not over him.”

Kazumi was right, but in that moment it just felt like a bit of an excuse. That said, I had no real retort.

The waiter took advantage of my pause to deliver our food, and with a big smile Kazumi exclaimed, “wow this looks great!” before taking a bite.

We ate in silence for a bit before Kazu looked at me with a serious expression and asked, “You’re not satisfied, are you? Tell me Sunshine - what do you want?”

“Huh?”

“What’s your ideal? If you could have things your way - what would that be?”

It was obvious - a world in which Kazumi lived full-time in Tokyo and was committed to dating me and only me. However, that wasn’t reality and if I thought about it, I found that my chest tightened ever so slightly at the thought of rushing into another relationship so quickly after Shizuo, and with that my bottom lip began to quiver on its own.

“I don’t know. I feel so confused.”

“Emi...it’s okay. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere...”

“I just...I don’t know what it is about you Kazu. You scare me so much. In the past when I’ve felt this way it’s never been reciprocated and I just feel like there’s gotta be a catch or something. I’m so scared you’re going to break my heart and after Shizuo - I just don’t think I can handle it. So please, if you’re the good person I think you are, and if there’s any chance you’re going to hurt me let’s just say goodbye after today.”

“Don’t say that. That’s too sad - please, don’t say that. I’d be heartbroken if you stopped talking to me.”

I knew he was serious by the way he looked at me. He could tell that I was starting to pull away, tempted to cut and run, and he grabbed my hand the way I liked, lacing his fingers through mine and giving it a squeeze.

“Don’t go anywhere, okay? Let’s just enjoy this together.”

At that moment, something changed for me.

I think it was due to the fact that it was obvious that he meant what he said. At the very least I was not just some plaything and his feelings for me were incredibly real. 

I had a hard time believing that I consumed his thoughts as much as he did mine, but at least I knew I was there somewhat.

It’s hard to be in the presence of the great Kazumi Kagami and not enjoy yourself. The ease in which he brings people out, and to that point, the ease in which he allows me to feel comfortable as myself soon had me back to normal.

By the end of our meal I was laughing and grilling him about all his adventures on the road. 

I learned about the nights out with his publisher, heard funny stories, and got travel and restaurant recommendations as he happily disclosed what he got up to while we were apart without realizing that many of those nights I figured his silence meant that he was with another woman. 

Instead I learned that he often would drink with Kotoko (his editor) and the people who organized each event, often returning to his hotel room in the early morning and ending his day by reading whatever it was I had sent him via TalkTime.

With a playful twinkle he took my hand as we left the restaurant to walk around my neighborhood and whispered, “Reading your texts made me feel a little less lonely in that room every night.”

That sentiment alone made me feel loved, and soon all the concerns I’d had about continuing down this path with him had melted away. 

We were back to being our happiest, best selves together as we enjoyed the park near my apartment before watching a film, and finally heading home for the night.

Every moment was filled with affection from Kazumi who either held my hand, or my waist, or kissed my cheek as we went from place to place. He not only had an ability to get me to relax and be myself but to make the person I was feel special and loved.

And perhaps it was for that reason alone that come nightfall I felt in my heart that I loved him.

At the time, it wasn’t a scary thought but a nice one. 

I had been so skeptical that I could ever be capable of feeling something like that again after Shizuo had betrayed me so deeply, yet I found myself naked in the arms of a man I’d grown to love after a few short months and in a way far deeper, and more honest than I ever had with Shizuo.

From the second I’d met Kazumi I’d felt this instant spark. Nothing had to be worked on - it was like magic.

I thought that kerosine and fire feeling would quickly wear off yet every time we were together it was the same and it had stretched on far longer than I thought it possible.

For the first time in my life I wondered if it was possible to convert that elusive instant connection into something that could stand the test of time.

Kazumi nuzzled my neck and I squirmed in his arms until I was facing him again. Our eyes locked, and my giggles subsided and instead were replaced by a deep feeling of contentment I don’t think I’ve ever felt before. I stared deep into his eyes, which at the moment reflected back the same placid feeling I was experiencing. 

My hand acted on its own, cupping his cheek before gently stroking his hair, eventually pushing it back and off his forehead. I then lovingly touched the hair on the side of his head, and then the back of his neck as I brought his face closer to mine and kissed him in a way which I hoped would communicate my feelings without words.

I don’t know when it was that we fell asleep after that. 

We quietly talked for a bit about our past relationships and once more, Kazumi opened up about the loss of an ex girlfriend (in far more detail this time) who was the root of why he was so noncommittal. At the time my back was to him but I could hear the hurt in his voice and felt a tear trickle down his face onto mine.

“You deserve a guy with a lot less baggage Sunshine.”

“You know a very smart man once told me that every experience you’ve been through, good or bad, makes you who you are today. And I really like the person you are today so I don’t mind.”

“Emi...I’m not used to having my own words turned on me...”

Kazumi buried his face in my hair by my neck and I felt his body as it held me tight, letting go of all the quiet tears he’d been holding inside.

Intimacy is a funny thing.

Some people mistake sex for intimacy, but what we experienced that night was intimacy in its truest form. Both of us allowed each other to be fully naked in front of the other, and as we opened up we were relieved to find that the person beside us did not push us aside, but instead pulled us closer.

Having experienced real intimacy with Kazumi reminded me of how superficial my current relationship with Makoto was. 

This was not to say Mako and I could not achieve something deeper, but in that moment if I had to choose there was no real choice.

It was Kazumi.

It’s always been Kazumi.

That realization only made his departure that much more difficult. 

“I wish I could keep you,” I muttered sadly, clinging onto him in my foyer.

“I’ll be back soon enough. I can’t have you getting sick of me.”

“I’d never get sick of you. You’re too weird, and funny, and handsome.”

“Emi...my beautiful Emi. My heart - I’m so happy we met.”

He kissed me again for a final time before leaving. It was a long, drawn out sweet kiss that tricked me into believing he loved me as much as I loved him.

We had not said those words, both cognizant that it was far too soon to say something so serious, but my heart whispered them as we kissed.

“Goodbye.”

“Not goodbye - see you soon Sunshine.”

An hour later I was coming down from the high of seeing Kazumi.

In the middle of our movie date, I’d covertly checked my TalkTime in the bathroom and saw Makoto had let me know he was back in Toyko and was hoping to meet up. I told him that I had a friend from out of town visiting, but that I could meet him the following day (Sunday).

We quickly made plans and I felt like a bit of a player as I’d returned to Kazumi.

All this had occurred before we’d shared such an intimate night together, and now that I had another date in a few hours I found myself conflicted. 

I didn’t want to lead Makoto on, but technically we just started seeing each other.

Would I have to disclose what I’d been up to? He knew that since my ex (who cheated on me) I had rebounded with someone else and not gotten tested. Kazumi’s status was the same - one additional partner and protected sex.

Either way, I couldn’t in good conscience go on a date with Mako until I showered and changed my sheets...

...just in case.

I took my time getting ready and thinking things over. I was so in my head that I didn’t realize I had pending messages - one from Kazumi and two from Makoto.

I opened Mako’s messages first:

Hey! I’m looking forward to seeing you again :)

Do you still want me to come over around 7?

I wasn’t sure. Seeing Kazumi reminded me how much I liked him and it was so hard to think about shifting gears and seeing Makoto even though I knew we had something together as well.

Not wanting to decide in that moment, I opened Kazu’s text:

Thanks for being so sweet and kind and beautiful and funny.

It was sweet and ironically not super elegant for a man who was a brilliant writer.

For some reason, as my heart swelled, I found myself compelled to open the app I met Kazumi on. He was only in town for a few more hours and we’d been apart two at most.

I wanted to believe that after our weekend he wouldn’t need to log in. 

He would feel so full of love and affection that a dating app would be the last thing on his mind, however when I went to see his profile my heart sank.

He was on and only a few miles away.

I knew that he was not mine and that I was not his. 

I knew that I was a hypocrite, seeing as how I used the apps still and even worse, had another young man waiting in the wings to see me.

Despite understanding that logically, my emotions got the better of me. Not wanting to feel like the “loser” in the situation I found that fear gripped me in an uncontrollable way and I wrote back to Makoto:

I was just thinking of all the reasons why I’m happy we met. 7 works - see you then.

Read Chapter 5

So...I’m curious if you guys have experienced what our MC is going through. These apps seem to create the perfect environment for jealousy and paranoia to flourish. Has anyone ever confronted someone they were seeing about always using them? Do you think Emi should ask Kazumi why he’s always on?

As always, I hope you guys are enjoying them as much as my purely fictional works and that you’ll comment and share with thoughts.

If you’re feeling really generous I hope you’ll consider buying me a coffee!

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[fiercyy]

Que Pasa Culata de Azucar?

Summary: Jake learns Spanish and does not immediately tell Amy. "Congratulations. It only took you 10 years to learn the language your partner speaks."

Thank you @cats-sarcasm-and-fandoms for the translations!

Amy is the kind of girl who went to college despite knowing she would be pursuing a career in law enforcement. She loved to learn; so, not only did she graduate summa cum laude but she double majored in Art History and Classics. On top of English, Spanish and a smattering of textbook-perfect french, Amy could read and write in greek, latin and hebrew.

It was sort of embarrassing.

Yesterday, he couldn’t figure how to fix the remote for his television so he ended up watching the Young and the Restless for four hours on his day off.

Amy and Jake put forth equal amounts of effort in very different ways, towards very different things. Besides their work itself.

Amy absorbs information like a sponge before wringing it out into the appropriate, color coded and labelled buckets in her head. She remembers literally everything ever and is thus great at crosswords and jeopardy.

Jake absorbs what’s immediately useful and discards the rest.

Every aspect of Amy’s life, besides self-care and emotions, is all-gung-ho all the time.

Jake puts his effort into jokes, into making his life full of zest, n’stuff. He will go to heretofore unheard of lengths for the sheer enjoyment of making others laugh.

Jake would never say this about himself, because he operates based on the idea that he flies by the seat of his pants at all times, and stumbles into everything based on a combination of sheer dumb luck and awesomeness of self.

On a Wednesday, for the first time, (well, not the first time. He probably put some effort into studying for the detectives exam or something. Or passing high school math. There’s got to have been something right?) Jake decides that he should take a page out of his weirdo wife’s book.

Much later, far off down the line he’ll say it was frustration that drove him to this point. That he was tired of sitting alone in a sea of confusion when they visit her family. That his sheer inability to follow the stories of her guilty pleasure telenovella was so insurmountably annoying that he just had to act.

Really it was just a series of amazing, wonderful, Amy-Santiago-Specialty presents. First it’s Hannukah, Then christmas, then his birthday, then Valentines and NO ONE is as pro as his wife at blowing his damn mind, four subsequent gift-giving holidays in a row. He cried at his birthday surprise. Tell no one.

Six months later …

Amy bites her lip and frantically looks around the precinct, ensuring the absence of prying eyes. She very suavely and inconspicuously gets up from her desk and strolls over to Rosa’s area.

“What .” It is not a question, but an icy hiss.

When Amy, who isnt usually cowed that easily, doesn’t speak up, Rosa looks up at her through narrow, calculating eyes. She must see something in her expression because she lets out an immense sigh and turns in her swivel chair. “What do you need?”

Amy opens her mouth.

And closes it.

Opens.

Closes.

Opens.

Rosa’s fingers under her chin bring her teeth together with a snap.

“Forget it,” she says nervously, “I’m being stupid. So stupid.”

“Probably!” Gina, who is across the room and not a part of this conversation, chimes in.

“Forget I said anything.” Amy makes to leave, face contorted in a painful wince. Rosa stares into her soul. Oh look at that. She’s grown roots. “Fine,” she sighs, “I need you to come help me stakeout a house.”

Rosa looks skeptical. “It’s a saturday.”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

“Where is this place?”

“East 47th and Claremont.”

“And you’re being weird about this because…”

Amy leans closer and whispers. “I think… I think Jake’s cheating on me.”

“HA!” Gina shouts loudly from where she has suddenly appeared right beside her ear. “That boy couldn’t, wouldn’t and probably shouldn’t be trolling for booty. He’s getting old, it’s kind of sad.”

“You’re the same age.”

“I am an ageless being made of pure light, descended from the heavens to grace you mere mortals with my presence.” She glances at her manicure, “So what are we waiting for? Are we going out on this stakeout or not?”

“No,” says Rosa flatly.

“Whyyyyyy,” Gina whines.

“Because Jake is not cheating on Amy. This is stupid.”

“But what if he is,” Amy pleads with her, “He’s been being weird. And he goes out every saturday. He says he has a pickup game with academy buddies. He doesn’t have academy buddies. ”

“That’s true,” Gina injects.

“You’re not helping,” spits Rosa, “Don’t legitimize her craziness.”

“Well, he’s also been hitting the gym more, but that’s none of my business.”

“Gina!”

“Please Rosa?” Amy’s eyes shine and her lips puff up in a pout, but what gets Rosa is the furrow of her brow and the very real worry she sees in her face.

“For the record, this is dumb.”

Gina and Amy take this as concession.

Rosa drives, Gina rides shotgun and Amy sits in the back. Together they watch the utilitarian brownstone. After an hour of inactivity the door opens and Jake bounds down the steps. He stops at the bottom and turns to wave at the woman in the doorway.

She can’t be more than 25. Her hair is long and black, bangs curl against her caramel cheek. It dimples when she smiles.

“ Goddamnit!” Amy shouts and slumps forward, head between her knees.

“Man. That boy has a type.”

“This is just great.”

“I will kill him for you,” offers Rosa.

“It doesn’t have to mean that right?” Amy seems to have chickened out of her own paranoia. “He could be here for any reason.”

“Sure he could,” says Gina, awkwardly patting her head. Amy lets out a breath and calms at the gesture. “But let’s be honest, probably not.”

Rosa hits her in the stomach.

“ Ow,” she grits pointedly.

“Come on, let’s head back to the precinct.”

Rosa does her very best to calm Amy down. (“Calm down,” she says.) And she doesn’t tell her this, but she runs the address through the database.

That night, Jake snuggles into her back and snuffles her hair. His warm hand caresses her arm and she feels so good, so safe. It makes her wonder how she could ever doubt him, when they fit together like this. He rubs his stubbly chin against her neck and settles in for the night.

And Amy just can’t let it go.

“Are we okay?” she asks breathlessly.

Jake is silent for a moment before he snorts. “Well, I should hope we’re better than okay at this point. We’ve been practicing for like four years.”

Amy turns in his embrace so they’re chest to chest. She’s so close that his eyes merge into one blurry one. He looks like a cyclops. She shakes her head free of the distraction. “I’m serious. Are we okay? Are you happy?”

Jake is taken aback and sounds afraid when he answers. “Why do you ask?”

She’s about to bring up her fears and feelings, she really is about to tell him the truth. But she imagines his reaction when she tells him she followed him. She imagines what he would say.

She chickens out.

The truth is, Amy is too scared to know. The truth is that Amy is so incandescently happy with her life that she’s willing to lie to herself a little. Maybe a lot. That frightens her, but not as much as the prospect of losing him to some young hot latina because seriously Jake? You are so transparent.

“I’m just… checking in. You know, like an audit. A relationship audit.”

“Why am I attracted to you again?” Her face burns and her gaze falls to his chest. Her shoulders curl inwards of their own volition. “Hey, I’m kidding. It’s just a bit I do,” Jake shucks her under the chin. “Hi, nice to meet you. My name is Jake Santiago, we’ll be married two years in September.”

“Sorry,” she sighs and leans up to rest her forehead against his. “Just been stuck in my head all day.”

“I think it’s sexy that you want to do a relationship audit. Should I whip out the spreadsheet pad? Will there be a physical evaluation of my assets?”

Amy laughs, “Oh definitely. I plan on being very thorough.”

“Santiago-style. I love it.”

“I love you,” she says with a bittersweet note to her voice.

“I bet I love you more.”

“False. But still, I don’t that’s something that I want to gamble on.”

Amy presses her lips against his and holds him tight. She slings her leg over his waist and rolls them over so that she’s on top, gently massaging his chest. “I love you Jake.”

“I love you too, Ames,” and he looks at her with wonderment and pride, the same way he has every day they’ve been together. It’s an expression that spreads warmth from her fingers to her toes and the thought of Jake with another woman flies out of her head. You can’t fake love like that. “You make me happier than I ever thought I could be. For the record.”

“For the record: same.”

It’s an hour and a half before Amy is asleep beside him, breathing evenly with her hands curled under her chin. Very carefully, Jake gets out of bed and sneaks out the bedroom floor and tiptoes into the living room where he left his satchel. He takes out his phone and earbuds then tiptoes back. He very carefully lower himself into bed and curls back up with his wife, who hasn’t budged an inch.

“Te equivocas de medio a medio, you are completely wrong. ”

He silently mouths along.

“ Claro hombre, eso es de cajón. Of course, that is obvious.”

The lease was under the name Marcia Rodgriguez, a 63-year-old mexican woman. It took some doing, but Rosa eventually found an ad that Marcia placed. She tutors Spanish as a second language.

Meanwhile, Jake is having trouble keeping it together. He’s been planning it for months. On their anniversary he’ll take her to the place where she proposed, get down on one knee and propose to her again in Spanish. Small consolation for her beating him to the punch in the first place but whatever. He knows it’ll make her happy. It’s the gift to trump all gifts, even those of the Santiago variety.

He would deny this, but he full on gushes to Boyle about it.

Who in turn, flings proportionate reaction to the wind and lifts Jake in the air, spinning him around. This is when Rosa walks into the bullpen. She turns around and walks right back out. Boyle, embarrassed, sets him down with a sheepish smile. A long pause then-

“Could you do that again? I felt like an eagle. It was magical.”

Amy is quickly losing patience with her mother. She holds her phone away from her for a moment so she can take a deep breath.

"Mama, es mi hermano. Sé que es un idiota, pero ¿qué es lo que quieres que haga?” Mama, he’s my brother. I know he’s an idiot, but what do you want me to do about it?

"Él y Mia lo resolverán solos, yo- no Mamá, sí, ¡escúchame! El domingo no puedo. Si pudiera tomarme el día libre lo haría-" He and Mia will work it out on their own, I- no Mama, yes, listen! Sunday doesn’t work. If I could get the day off I would-

She says it all in a very normal voice. If he still couldn’t speak Spanish he would never know anything was wrong. Amy does that sometimes.  Growing up in a full house meant keeping problems to yourself. It’s something they work on, but this is a family thing, and despite being a part of it, he doubts she’ll bring it up with him. Or ask for a day off for herself.

When Amy’s in the bathroom he phones the Sarge. “Hey, could you put me on the schedule this Sunday instead of Amy? ...Yeah, I know, but I used to do doubles all the time... Once won’t hurt.”

Mateo comes to visit a week before their anniversary. Amy invites him back to their apartment and Jake makes himself scarce for a while. Amy and Mateo were always very close and he moved to Chicago three years ago. It was rough for her at first, he’s glad she has this time with him.

What he didn’t used to be glad about was how Mateo had this annoying habit of talking to Amy in Spanish whenever Jake was around.

Mateo had been the hardest of the Santiago siblings to win over, besides Amy herself. He was closest to Amy in age, only 10 months older. They were in the same grade through all of school. They were inseparable until being accepted into different colleges.

He doesn’t like Jake much. To this day, almost two years into his marriage, Jake still doesn’t know why. He knows it bothers Amy, but he can’t do anything about it.

Well, he couldn’t until now.

Spanish drifts from the living room into the kitchen.

“Siempre hace cosas tontas para llamar tu atención.” He’s always doing stupid things to get your attention. “¿No te cansas de sus estupideces?” You never get tired of his nonsense?

Mateo is sitting on their floral couch, across from Amy on the armchair. He’s spread as wide as he can, taking up the whole thing.

“No, me canso de él dejando su basura por todas partes. Muy doméstico. No es gran cosa.” No, I get tired of him leaving his crap everywhere. Very domestic. No big deal.

This is the moment he chooses to walk further into the room. Alerting them to his presence. The conversation doesn’t end, the thread continued as if he were invisible. He takes a seat beside his wife on the arm of her chair and smiles benignly, feigning misunderstanding.

Mateo has no compunctions about continuing to talk about him as if he’s not there. “Todavía no lo entiendo. Él es tan... Extrovertido y tú eres tan... Reservada.” Still don’t get it. He’s so… out there and you’re so… reserved.

Jake is sort of offended on Amy’s behalf. She glances at him with a furrowed brow, so that even if he didn't understand what was being said, he’d know it was about him. He shrugs.

“Me gusta que sea tan abierto, me hace mejor que él me ayude a relajarme. Él me hace ser mejor.” I kind of like that he’s so open, it makes me better that he helps me loosen up. He makes me better.  

Jake has to fight down a blush.

“Estás bien como estás.” You’re fine as you are.

For the first time in the conversation, he concurs with Mateo.

“Sí, nunca se lo diría, pero cada vez que hace que nos desviemos, es siempre lo mejor. Probablemente la única aventura que he tenido en mi vida." Yeah, but I would never tell him so, but whenever he gets us sidetracked, it’s always the best. Probably the only adventure of my life. “Pero si se lo dices te mato.” But if you tell him though, I’ll kill you.

Jake is suddenly feeling overwhelmed. It’s not that Amy doesn’t say nice things to him, it’s just different when it’s not said for his benefit. In this moment (in all moments) he’s so glad that she chose him, so thankful that she’s in his life. He tries not to blush and fails, but that’s okay. Amy takes his hand and squeezes it.

“So. Who’s ready for food?” he interrupts.

Later, Amy comes out of the shower to find him organizing the previously ordered mess in which he lives his life. She stands in the doorway of the bedroom, clutching her towel to her chest, just watching.

He looks up from the sock drawer, feeling sheepish. The clean laundry had been piled in the corner of the room for three days. What he finds it not a teasing wife but a woman staring into the depths of his soul with dark eyes trained on his hands. Hands which he prides himself on because of their dexterity. Her plump lips part in an o and she blinks slowly. He can see a pink tongue running over white teeth and is struck dumb by it.

“I-I- uh, I’m organizing them by dressiness and color.”

Amy’s towel drops to the floor and she’s on him in an instant. Tackling him down onto the bed. “That is so hot.”

“Are you gonna just leave your towel on the floor?”

“Oh my god.”

“I have acquired a superpower,” says Jake to Charles in the breakroom. “She talks about her problems, I fix them, awesome sex. It’s a win win all around!”

“I dunno Jakey, this seems like a bit of an invasion of her privacy.”

“She’s talking right in front of me. And did I mention how good this sex was because-???”

“So basically you’re trying to justify lying to her.” Jake jumps three feet in the air. “Also, congratulations, it took you 10 years to finally learn the language your wife speaks. Good going, Jake.”

“When did you get here?” he shouts at Rosa. “It’s not lying. I’m using my powers for good. She never would have told me her brother was having marital problems and she never would have asked Holt for the day off to be with her family. Plus, this morning she was on her phone with her mom and said ‘Me gustaría que no oliera a huevos después de perseguir delincuentes’ which means I wish he didn’t smell like eggs after we chased perps. So I put on deodorant!”

“...” Rosa appears unimpressed.

“Come on, I’m telling her soon. Anniversary surprise!”

“Tell her now.”

“No.”

“Tell her.”

“You can’t make me!”

She shoots him a look.

“Okay, maybe you can. But please don’t.”

The death glare she shoots him as she leaves the room makes him question whether she will honor his request.

It doesn’t take long. He’s sitting with Amy, picking at her Pho when Rosa joins them. “Tu esposo es tonto y cree que eres una maniática controladora.” Your husband is an idiot and thinks you're a control freak.

“I am not! And that’s not even true!”

“How did you understand that?”

“Yes Jake,” says Rosa pleasantly. “Is it because you are a super genius and therefore comprehend all languages?”

Amy stares at her husband with suspicious eyes, “No, that’s not it.”

Amy doesn’t speak to him the rest of the day. They sit across from each other in uncomfortable silence where she works and pretends not to feel his stare searing into her face.

He knows he’s in big trouble.

At five o’clock on the dot he gets up from his desk, yanks Amy from her seat and drags her into the evidence lockup shouting, “We’re off the clock dweebs!” over his shoulder.

In the space where they kissed properly as themselves for the first time, where they got together, where they said goodbye before she went undercover, where they killed a man with their hot sexy makeout skills, Jake takes his wife’s hands and drops to one knee. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“¿Quieres casarte conmigo...de nuevo?” Will you marry me...again? Then he laughs and looks around the room. “Debes decir que sí.” You have to say yes.

"Of course!" she flings her arms around him and presses her face into his chest. "I though you were cheating on me, you asshole!"

"Wait what?!"

“Nothing, never mind. Te amo, cariño,” I love you Sweetheart, Amy replies, a little tearfully.

“Yooooo I’d totally forgotten about that. This opens up a whole new arena of obnoxiously cute nicknames, sugarbutt! Or should I say culata de azúcar? Doesn’t roll off the tongue the same.”

[unashamed-shipper]

A Tranquil Melody

a little fluff to help with the angst we have from the last chapter

thank you to @summylise who helped beta this fic. it was a mess. she turned it into amazingness.

read on ff.net

rated: general

characters: natsu, lucy, mentions of jude heartfilia and human!igneel

summary: silence is reassuring when you’re with the one you adore

type: fluffy one-shot

word count: 1867

Natsu was always good at being silent. From a young age, he was able to sneak things away from his older brother that he wanted and keep them without him finding out--something that he was quite proud of himself for until his parents found them. Natsu kept his lips tight as he heard his parents arguing, and listened to music on the ride to his father’s home where he would stay for the remainder of his life. Despite the pain, he was quiet and played his piano when the sad times arose and mostly kept to himself around other people, only inputting words that would help continue the conversation.

He played the piano every morning before school and before he went to bed, and he found himself one day getting better and better. Proud of himself, he began to play a Mozart song which he knew he could perform quite well. The song was one of his favorites, and one his father taught him when he was young. It went on for a while until he realized someone was watching him.

In the corner of his eye, he saw a young blonde woman around the same age as he peeking through her blinds in awe. He stopped playing and turned to study her, but she was gone.

Lucy was trained to be quiet from when she was young. Her mother passed away when she was three, and her father turned sterner toward her every single day, telling her to be quiet through meetings and dinners to just look pretty. As she ate her food at each meal, she listened to the conversations of those around her with a skeptical ear. She found that most of the words spoken were boring and either about beauty products or wealth, and the women around her only wanted her to wear makeup and do her hair when Lucy could care less about doing those things.

Even at sixteen, she was more interested in music than anything.It made sense to her more than anything else like beauty products or money, and she thought it beautiful in it’s own right. Every type of music was different, and she found herself being drawn to song. She would often sing softly to herself in the middle of the night, and would sometimes go to the top of her roof and sing as she watched the stars.

One evening in particular was unlike the rest. She saw a young man with rose colored hair playing the piano, and she watched with awe as his fingers danced over the keys. He played a song that she heard when she was a child, and she peeked between the velvet curtains to get a better look at him.

His fingers were long and pressed the piano keys with such precision and enjoyment that she couldn’t help but sing along. There were no words yet she knew that she had to sing. It inspired her so much that her vocal cords just couldn’t help it any longer, and Lucy began her aria to hopefully empower him into playing even more.

But when he turned his eyes on hers, she flushed at the direct eye contact and gasped at how bright his emerald eyes were as they pierced into hers and were so shocking against the darkness. Dropping the curtain, her back pressed against the wall and she dropped to her knees.

With her hands over her mouth, she smiled. The feeling felt strange to her as she was unaccustomed to it, but she could not help it.

“He looked at me.”

Natsu wanted to do something for the blonde girl. When they had made eye contact that night from their bedroom windows and he saw her beautiful face. His pulse began to quicken as she watched him. He wasn’t around girls much other than his classmates, and she was definitely not a classmate. Her house was much nicer than his, and it was rumored that her father was someone high up in a large company in Magnolia.

But she was so quiet. When she sang, the words were softly uttered and high-pitched as if she was not quite used to talking. He understood the feeling; sometimes he would go without talking for days just to give himself a break from all of the noise around him at school.

‘What could I give to her that she doesn’t already have?’ Natsu wondered, pressing his knees to his chest as he sat on his bed. She probably had a bunch of pretty dresses and lots of girl stuff because her father was so rich, but he wanted to give her something from the heart.

What could a singer use that would show his personality yet be sweet?

Natsu’s lips quirked up as he thought of an idea. It was silly, but he was sure that she would like it. Now, if he could only get up the courage to go to the store…

“What’s this?” Lucy said aloud, and the words echoed loudly in her ears. She hadn’t said anything for hours which made the noise sound loud even though her voice was barely a whisper. The whole day was filled with meals with higher-ups, and Lucy needed to be silent at the command of her father.

The gift was wrapped unusually, with a bow tied around it haphazardly multiple times and covered in comics from the newspaper. Lucy giggled as she unwrapped the gift carefully, wondering if it was a present from her father.

Lucy’s eyebrows drew together as she saw it was a tube of chapstick and a bottle of water. Who would think to give such ordinary things? Still, it was a gift, and she would accept it with grace.

A note fell out of the edge of a piece of wrapping, and Lucy scrambled to pick it up. The writing was scribbled in colored pencil and almost illegible, but she read it nonetheless.

‘Yo! My name’s Natsu, and I live next door. Nice to meet ya, singing lady! I thought since you sing that your mouth might get dry and that your lips might get chapped. I know they’re kind of shitty gifts, but it was all I could get. Hope you like them anyway. See ya!’

Lucy giggled again, covering her mouth with her palm. He really was sweet, even though he didn’t know her name. Maybe she would have to introduce herself sometime.

Now she had to figure out what to get him back.

Natsu came home from school to find a neatly wrapped present sitting on his piano. It was weird that he would find any sort of gift for him at all. His dad loved giving present but since work was hard to find, Igneel rarely got gifts for him. Still, Natsu appreciated every ice cream cone and piano book that his old man could find and treasured each and every one.

He sneaked around it, tossing it back and forth in his hands a few times in speculation. What if it was a bomb from someone that wanted to kill him? Natsu didn’t have any enemies but he was sure that someone out there hated him.

His eyes widened as he remembered the gift he gave to the girl next door a few weeks back. Oh man, what if she didn’t like it? What if this was a bunch of horse poop or something?

Sniffing it, he found no smell save for the faint scent of pine and old metal. Natsu cocked his head and raised his eyebrows while unwrapping the gift slowly to find that it was a wooden metronome. He grinned and placed it on his piano gently and flicked the bar to start ticking. Sitting down on his bench, he began to play the piano and found it much easier now that he knew the tempo.

He wanted to play a song for her to show his appreciation. Natsu knew that she would like that, and his mind pondered over the options for a moment before coming to the best one.

With a grin, he stopped playing and rubbed his hands together. Now he just had to wait until nightfall.

Lucy heard the first notes of a song she loved and rushed to the window with glee. Throwing back the curtain, she saw that Natsu was playing that very song  her mother used to play.

As Natsu’s fingers flew over the keys, he recognized familiar figure in the curtains and smiled. He grinned up at her, and she smiled back. Within a few moments, she began to sing. Her words were hesitant at first as they always were, and they grew more confident as the music swelled. The song finished before they could even recognize it’s ending, and Natsu immediately started up another melody.

The two joined in harmony as they gazed into each other’s eyes, smiles on their faces. The song was even more beautiful as Lucy sang along with Natsu’s playing, and their smiles grew as they knew what they had to do.

Lucy raced past countless servers and maids as she ran out the door, and Natsu bolted past his confused father. It didn’t matter that Natsu didn’t know Lucy’s name, or that Lucy didn’t know how quiet Natsu was.

They knew they had to meet.

As they stood staring at each other on their driveways, one much smaller than the other, they grinned. Natsu had his hands on his knees as he heaved breaths, and Lucy’s eyes widened. He was really here!

Natsu’s pulse raced as he looked at her. She was even more beautiful up close...

“H-Hello,” Lucy began, and Natsu was surprised at how pretty her voice was even when she wasn’t singing. “I’m Lucy.”

“Nice to meet ya, Luce. I’m Natsu. You already knew that though. You know, from my note. Sorry about my shitty handwriting,” he said with a nervous laugh, and Lucy giggled at his rambling. He wasn’t sure how to act around a girl. Much less a girl as pretty as her. He liked the way her long ponytail fell over her shoulder and down her back, and how her brown eyes sparkled.

“Pleasure to meet you as well,” she said, using her formal voice. Natsu’s brows furrowed in confusion, and Lucy sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she told him as her eyes dipped to the ground, “I meant to say that it’s nice to meet you too.”

She grasped his hand, feeling it’s warmth. The heat spread from the tips of her fingers to her feet, and it made her shiver. His palms were rough where hers were smooth, and they fit together well.

There was silence as their hands dropped back to their sides. Natsu looked to the ground and kicked a rock, not knowing what to say. He liked her for sure, but wasn’t sure how to express it.

“Would you like to come inside? I can make us some tea,” Lucy said with a smile, and Natsu grinned back. With a nod, he followed her inside.

It seemed that even the most silent of people could be comfortable with the ones they adored.

I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a reply, reblog, or comment in the tags if you liked! 

Thank you for reading <3

[silvermp]

Flock Together - Part 2

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

She was more careful, from then on, trying to stretch her wings. She would waddle her way to different branches, flapping furiously in a weird glide to another branch, and then climbing her way back up again. She felt like a parrot, using her beak and claws to grapple up the rough bark, but it worked well enough that her mother let it happen. (Once she found out it was happening.)

She probably looked ridiculous, flailing her wings to try and get enough lift that her beak wasn’t so strained. Climbing a tree using your mouth and neck muscles is not fun. It was hard to spit when you didn’t have lips.

“Alright, stop.”

She slipped, whirling around to haul herself back up onto the branch she had nearly launched herself off of. Her mother hopped down from a higher branch, tilting her head and watching her daughter stand up again.

“Your feathers are developed enough. If you’re still too weak to fly, put some Chakra into your chest.”

Kuroko eyed her mother as the bird flapped her wings in demonstration, but didn’t really know what she should be looking at.

“....how?”

Her mother hissed something softly, spreading her wings and laying one of them over the fledgeling. Kuroko shivered, warm darkness dripping through her feathers and curling like curious little fronds against her skin. Something about it was welcoming, luxuriating. The warmth in her chest seemed to rise up to her skin to greet it. It reached out to the living shadows, and Kuroko puffed her feathers out a bit and closed her eyes to feel it.

The first prod at her Chakra did nothing. Still unresponsive.

Several minutes passed, and her mother’s wing was starting to get heavier as the older bird lost interest in keeping her comfortable for the demonstration. Kuroko grumbled,  trying all sorts of mental twists to try to get that liquid warmth to move.

Finally, just as her mother’s tensing muscles belied her desire to pull her wing away, she felt it stir.

It wasn’t fantastic or colorful. No bright swirls or mystical wind brushing through her feathers. Just… a pleasant feeling of something flowing through her chest.

“I think I got it.” She mumbled, and felt her mother rumble softly in approval as she continued to concentrate on moving it around.

She could shift it up to her neck, and enjoyed (read: did not enjoy) the sudden sharpening of the taste of bark still lingering on her tongue. She could move it to her wings and chest muscles, and wondered if she really would be stronger. Couldn’t really move it to her legs, though. Her circulation there was awful, so the lack of chakra in that area wasn’t much of a surprise.

Kuroko shifted absently, digging her claws into the bark. She’d never have the killer grip of a falcon, unfortunately. No death-from-above for her. Maybe a red-tailed hawk would be something to emulate… diving breakneck at the ground, only to swoop up and punch something to death.

Though, with her luck, she might not pull up in time. Better to focus on the present - just flying, for now.  

With that in mind, she took a deep breath, spread her wings, and jumped.

The warmth pooled in her chest as her wings pumped, feathers catching the air and pulling strangely on the curves of her (bonestendonsmuscles) wings. The expected descent did not come, and she overshot the branch she normally would have aimed for.

Joy bloomed in her chest, and she flapped hard, tail flailing in awkward fans to try and direct her largely horizontal flight. She twisted her head, looking back at her mother to see if the old bird could actually show pride.

Oh wait, she needed her head to steer.

Muscles pulled sharply to follow her neck's movement, and her flight pattern was abruptly thrown off. It sent her flailing through the air and landing in a tangle of thin branches.

The leaves supported her for a brief moment, wings outspread to distribute her weight across the fragile hammock.

And then it gave way, and she barely managed to flap her way onto a low branch, instead of landing on the ground again.

She made it!

Well, completely off-course and probably goofy as hell, but it was still flight!

Kuroko turned around, hopping in place with delight as her mother casually (and gracefully, the show-off) swooped between branches to land beside her.

There was Definitely pride in that squint.

“Get back to the nest and practice.” She rasped, but leaned forward and prodded a feather back into place, adjusting a few other feathers on Kuroko’s wing in an impromptu preening assist.

“Once you can actually fly, I’ll teach you to use the shadows.”

----

The curiosity about her abrupt entrance into awareness still sat in the back of her mind, of course.  Just… waaay in the back, behind the whole ‘Holy shit I can fly’ and ‘Holy shit I can leave the nest’ and ‘Holy shit the forest is fucking huge.’

You might say she had a… Fowl mouth.

Kuroko snickered at her own pun, gliding in yet another attempt to learn how to use her tail as a proper rudder. It had all sorts of fluid dynamics and cross-currents to be aware of, and the slightest change in her body posture could throw her off balance. One needed a lot of concentration, to fly.

Her mother had left her mostly to her own devices after that initial Chakra-powered flight, letting her hunt her own mice and return to the nest without interference. It was a lot more fun now, than it had been when she was a squishy lump of pre-plucked bird meat.

There were always other small creatures in the forest around her, but never something she felt threatened by. A squirrel here, a rabbit there, maybe a few songbirds that peeped angrily at her when she crashed into a group of them. They didn’t seem to be able to talk to introduce themselves, so she’d been calling them ‘Borbs’ in her head. Bird-orbs, because they were so round when sitting. Fluffy fat little borbs.

Too bad they couldn't talk properly - it'd probably be adorable.  

Something grabbed her attention, and Kuroko pulled up short, peering down to watch a small deer bolt through the sparse underbrush. Several wolves were close on its heels, racing past in what was easily identifiable as a pincer move from abov

Morbidly curious, Kuroko followed in the trees, jump-flying from branch to branch to follow the action. She missed the killing blow, but heard the cut-off wail of a dying animal, and the loud scuffle as they dragged it down. She watched them tear into the poor dead deer, rather desensitized to the whole violence thing after picking apart a live mouse for her own meal.

Kuroko startled, settling down again as her mother folded her wings to watch the group, suddenly beside her. She absolutely looked forward to the day she could use shadows like that.

“Good kill!” the older bird cawed out.

A few of the wolves looked up at the two of them, body language quickly shifting between alert and amused.

“Kokoro, fancy seeing you here. Finally give up on that ratty old guy?”

Oh? Did they know each other?

Her mother wheezed a laugh, flying down to land next to the wolf. And holy hell, that was a size difference. His head was the size of her entire body!

“Come down here and greet our friends, little squirt. Don't be rude.”

Kuroko hesitated, but obediently followed her mother's example and landed on the leaves nearby. She stared uncomfortably at the young wolves that perked up to watch her walk awkwardly to her mother, already feeling vulnerable on the ground. Instincts were a hard thing to ignore, and these wolves had already demonstrated their ability to use those fangs.

“Akihito, this is Kuroko. Squirt, this is Akihito.” She peered at the grizzled wolf, clacking her beak.   “Play nice, both of you.”

The big wolf huffed a small laugh, lying down and licking the lingering blood from his lips and fangs.

“I'm surprised you finally settled down. I thought we were going to see the last of our favorite crow demons eat the dust.”

Kuroko fluffed up her feathers, only vaguely paying attention to the conversation. More interesting was how the forest looked from this angle. She’d gotten so used to flying above it and scooping her meals up into trees, she hadn’t really looked around from this angle since she was a chick.

“It's hard finding someone willing to meet me halfway, you know.” Her mother grumbled, flicking her tail in contempt. “Lazy bones wanted me to migrate to the mountains.”

Akihito chuckled again, laying his ears back and grinning with his eyes, whiffing a soft “How dare they~” and grinning harder when her mother loudly agreed.

“Don’t underestimate the other demon clans, Kuroko. They are all just as canny, just as motivated as we are. Trust their word, if not their intent. We cannot lie to each other.”

Kuroko sat down, hunching her head to her body and listening absently as the two continued to gossip. She stayed still as a younger wolf trotted up to her, laying down and resting its head on a paw to watch her. It was almost considerate, to lower his body like that, instead of towering over her.

“Fresh outta the nest, huh?”

She shot the wolf a surprised look, and he explained.

“Kokoro would have told us about a chick earlier, if you weren't new.” A wet nose pressed against her wing, mussing her feathers, hot breath whuffing over her.

“Plus, you smell like a baby.”

Her feathers bristled up in objection, and the young wolf laughed, sitting upright and perking his ears as her mother’s voice called over.

“What’s going on?”

Kokoro was walking back toward her, eyeing the young wolf speculatively.

“She’s just mad I called her a baby~” The wolf practically chirped, large paws throwing up leaves as he sprang up and loped away. Kuroko sat back down, feeling satisfied he had run from her lunging peck attempt. She wiggled her neck, pushing a crispy dead leaf off her shoulders from where the scamper had thrown it.

“Don't be rude.” Her mother reminded, clearly not actually concerned and mostly amused by the event. “Eat up. The pack is graciously, ” she stressed the word “sharing their hunt. Next time we'll have to help them scout for it, so thank Akihito for that.”  Under the sharp stare, Kuroko quickly stood up.

She gave a bobbing sort of bow to the grey wolf, still a bit uneasy to be pinned by those golden eyes.

“Thank you very much.”

The wolf ducked his chin a bit in return, and rolled over to take a nap while the rest of his pack continued to routinely pace the perimeter.

Turns out, mice and bugs had NOTHING on fresh deer meat. It was so sweet, so juicy - it was hard not to gorge herself fat and stupid on the plentiful feast. She had to keep reminding herself that she had to fly home, and needed to be light enough for that. Her mother had no qualms about hopping up and letting loose on the animal's eyeball, but Kuroko... wasn't quite ready for that. It helped that her mother was greedy when it came to eyeballs, so she didn't have a reason to try it anyway.

With a fully belly, and a slowly growing ease around the larger carnivores, she plopped down to digest the huge meal. She didn’t even protest as the young wolf slinked back to her side, laying down to watch her doze. Maybe he just didn’t see birds up close, that often.

She didn’t notice the keen stare Kokoro kept on the two of them.

---

Kuroko yawned, blinking her eyes open lazily. A warm breath tickled her back feathers, and a slow tilt of her head revealed the large, sandy-colored muzzle of the young wolf who had locked onto her. She reached out, nipping gently at the wiry whiskers in front of her, and hissing in amusement  as the canid jumped and reared his head back.

“Rude.” He huffed, laying his head down again and regarding her warily.

“What’re you so interested in?”

She blinked at her own blurted question, but likewise unused to have someone that she felt comfortable talking casually to. Her mother always seemed to be watching her like she’d break at any moment, and trying to converse with her was like walking on sapling branches.

The wolf flicked his ear, smiling with his eyes.

“I just haven’t seen a baby bird in a long time.”

She peeked around at the other wolves, noting the dramatic change in location since she last had her eyes open. Maybe she had napped longer than she thought.

“Surely, it’s not that interesting.”

“More like… none of us thought Kokoro would survive the winter, so you’re surprising.”

Kuroko whipped her head around, but the wolf was already stretching his paws, mouth opening in a wide, tongue-curling yawn.

“Geeze, you’re making ME sleepy. Stop thinking so hard.” He pushed some leaves toward her, accepting the quick peck and waving his paw tauntingly at her, daring her to try again.

She lifted her beak, trying to give him the haughty, holier-than-thou down-the-beak stare that her mother was so good at. The wolf just sniggered at her, and Kuroko realized she had been distracted from the question she wanted to ask. She preened her beak through her feathers primly, trying to push her rumpled feathers back into place, thinking of how to phrase her question.

“What do you mean, Kokoro wouldn’t-” “-Have you gotten to Chakra training yet?”

She clicked her beak shut, giving him a mild glare.

“Yes.”

“Doing any shadowjumps lately?”

She squinted her glare.

“No… Should I have?”

The wolf flicked his ear, looking off and tracking one of his packmates through the underbrush.

“Well, when you get there, try to chill with the whole feathers thing. We don’t really have a physical body, though we all kinda just assume that we do, and run with it. You’re thinking about it too much.”

What on earth did that mean?

She asked that aloud.

He looked at her, puzzled, tail drooping a little like he wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. Like it should be something innately obvious, and he wasn’t sure if she was trying to trick him by feigning ignorance.

“You’re thinking too hard about all the fiddly bits, so you’re missing the big picture? Like, missing the forest for the trees? If you want to pass as a real bird, you’re doing a great job, but… ”

Kuroko squeezed her feathers closer, wondering if she should be offended or not.

He twisted around, lifting a hind leg and scratching at a spot under his chin, clearly feeling awkward. His leg dropped abruptly when a long, solemn howl started up from a wolf at the edge of their little group.

A ripple passed through the pack, awareness focusing outward as a new howl echoed back, several voices answering.  Her friend stood up, ears alert and nose up to sniff the wind.

“Sorry birdie, maybe another day. Ask your mom. She’s way older than me.”

Kuroko hopped to her feet, still feeling heavy from the earlier meal, but hauled ass up into the branches anyway. Fear prickled through her skin at the sudden change in behavior, and the strange connotations from his words had unsettled her a little.

Her mother joined her, murmuring  to keep quiet and follow her lead.

Dark bodies whispered through the trees, faster than she could properly follow at first. She couldn’t help looking around wildly as humans bounded from branch to branch, settling down in the limbs. One of them sat on the same branch she and her mother perched on, but appeared to ignore them.

They all seemed a bit… wild. Mostly brown or black-haired, with sharp eyes and strong shoulders regardless of gender. Something about them felt… familiar, in a way. The humans who approached the pack on the ground were likewise sharp-eyed, and stood beside huge wolflike dogs.

The wolves had created a loose circle with their bodies, gold eyes finding every one of the humans perched above, ears swiveled to keep them in their range of senses even when they focused on the group below.

“Well met,” One of the huge dogs rumbled, tail tucking down as it stepped forward.

Kuroko watched Akihito stand up, prowling stiff-legged through the pack and staring down the much larger dog. The humans seemed on-edge, and it made her feathers itch something fierce.

The dog slinked forward, offering a small lick under the wolf’s chin, looking a bit silly with the size difference.The grey alpha seemed satisfied with that, briefly leaning his head atop the dog’s, before stepping back and staring at the humans.

Kuroko noted how they all immediately averted their eyes, but did not otherwise back down. Akihito snorted.

“Same as always, then?”

“Yes. We’d like to offer Akane. She is fast, and agile. She should do well in your pack. Please treat her well.”

A long-legged dog stepped forward, likewise avoiding eye contact with Akihito’s golden stare, and laid down next to the first. Her deep auburn fur stood out rather brightly compared to the browns and greys of the wolf pack. Akahito regarded her for a moment, before turning slightly back toward his pack.

“Koharu.”  

The tan wolf that had lain with Kuroko trotted forward, ears perked in interest.

“You’ll stay with them for one year, and then return. Please accommodate their wishes to the best of your abilities.”

Koharu wagged his tail, slowing to a walk to stand at his leader’s side.

“He is my sister’s-son, strong, and proficient in our Chakra arts. Please treat him well.”

Kuroko tilted her head, leaning against her mother for some extra warmth. It all seemed so ritualized. She gathered they had some sort of agreement, but.. Were they trading pack members or something?

“What’s going on?” She whispered.

“Hush, I’ll tell you later.” Her mother nipped at her with a quiet click, an extra incentive to stay quiet. Neither of them missed how the human perched beside them stiffened at the quiet words.

Kuroko was sure he was staring at them out of the corner of his eyes, and the gaze prickled in her down.

Why did they feel so familiar, though?

Their cheeks were painted with bold red triangles, fingernails more claw-like than she remembered her mother describing humans.

“Chakra has a transformative effect. If you’re around it enough, your own chakra will change to mimic. Certain humans are particularly susceptible, with their dual Chakras.”

She twisted to look down at the proceedings with new interest, a bit disappointed to have already missed the parting words. Both groups were already backing away from each other, humans and dogs (plus her new friend) heading away, while the wolves sat back to stay by the deer.

That’s why the humans felt familiar, though. They felt like wolves .

The humans in the trees started leaving the area, retreating as fast as they had come. Kuroko peered up at the human beside them, meeting their dark eyes.

“Creepy.” She heard him mutter, before bounding away to join his cohorts.

Rude.

When they all departed, the forest seemed a bit quieter. Kohaku had left, and without him, the pack seemed once more a group of strangers. The idea that she might never see him again felt… oddly sad. She didn’t think she’d get so attached, so quickly.

“Those are Contractors.”

She tilted her head, tuning into her mother’s words.

“A human who made a deal with one of our kind, for the sake of power” Her mother shook out her wings and ruffled her tail, adding absently, “Different from Summoners. Instead of forcing the issue, they continue treaties.”

The old bird hopped off and swooped down to speak to the old alpha, completely ignoring the dog now getting thoroughly sniffed by other wolves.

Kuroko, however,  couldn’t tear her eyes off the new dog. Now that they were right next to each other, something about the dog felt… off, compared to the wolves.

Empty, in a weird sort of way.

She shifted on her branch, distracting herself with a quick preen of her breast feathers. Was there actually something wrong with the dog, or was she just paranoid?

Her mother flitted back up to the branch, and stared her down for a long moment.

“Back to the nest.” she decided, taking flight again. Kuroko sighed, spreading her own wings.

Kuroko shot one last look at the dog, before clumsily following her mother's wide wings.

---

In the days following, Kuroko improved in leaps and bounds. Her wings could carry her longer, her Chakra moved swifter, and her many-chambered lungs no longer felt quite as strained when she pushed herself to keep up with her mother’s swift wings.

She practiced pushing Chakra to her nose, her eyes, experimenting with different perceptions of the world.

Once, she had spotted her mother returning through the shadows, a little dark patch between branches suddenly melting to pitch black. Her long black beak and head pushed through it like a thin membrane breaking. Kokoro noticed her staring, and asked if she was so bored that she needed to practice her groundwork again.

Kuroko cheeped, launching herself into the air and practicing the aerial turns that she’d been instructed to master. Groundwork  practice involved a lot of landing and jumping into the air from the forest floor. It was exhausting . And tended to give her bruises. There was a certain technique to landing softly on the ground without tipping over, and she hadn’t quite figured it out.

Her mother started to introduce her to the Shadows. She hadn't actually figured out how to DO anything with them yet, but patient instruction led her to at least be able to sense their potential. Larger, darker ones were easier to tap into. Shallow, pale shadows made by weak light were much harder to even sense.

Her mother seemed more and more distracted, and would pop away at the drop of a leaf, leaving Kuroko to practice alone without warning.

She noticed her Borbs also felt empty, now that she knew what to look for, and spent a long moment staring at the little songbirds flitting about. They were still cute, though. Maybe she could train one to be her pet….

After a few hours of chasing around terrified little creatures through the canopy, she concluded that no, they did not want to be her pet.

Damn.

--

She became more familiar with the wolf pack, following their steady path through the forest, calling out when she spotted something of interest. Akihito taught her how to identify a mouse’s footsteps through the way leaves rustled, seemingly unbothered that Kokoro kept leaving her daughter alone with the carnivores. One of the darker brown wolves figured out she preferred the fatty rib meat, and kept setting some aside for her, after their hunts.

She felt incredibly guilty that she had forgotten his name, and couldn’t muster the courage to ask again.

Kuroko helped the wolf pack hunt a young boar, flying hard above the beast, and calling out locations. She felt her heart race, ducking between leaves and dodging branches in a three dimensional space. There was nothing but air, between her and the ground. Nothing but her own muscles sending her flying across the world, eyes bright and feathers strong. She felt present. She felt alive. These were her wings, her strength. This was her life .

During a  hunt, the auburn dog Akane proved herself, long legs pushing her further, faster than the rest of the pack. She was able to bite the boar’s hind leg, and jump away before it could gore her in return. The pause in running let the pack circle it, eventually bringing it down with a flurry of sharp fangs and terrifying snarls.

Kuroko landed easily on a thick branch above the kill. She waited politely as the wolves feasted, knowing there’d be plenty left over for her.

Even a young boar was a large bounty.

She paused, noticing how the wolves had suddenly stilled, attention all angled toward one spot.

With small, dark paws, a brightly furred fox slinked out of the underbrush. Rust-colored eyes regarded the group, steady gait showing no fear.

They stepped to the side, eerily silent, but not aggressive. The slender fox seemed almost proud in bearing as it stepped between the wolves and began taking delicate bites of the boar’s haunch.

The pack watched for several long minutes, only a few movements between them as heads turned and legs adjusted to be more comfortable.

Finally, the fox lifted her head, licking her lips. She ducked her chin toward Akihito, and murmured a soft “Thank you.” before padding silently back into the brush.

Kuroko flitted down, landing on the boar’s shoulder and peering out at the bushes. She already couldn’t sense the fox. Creepy.

It took a few moments before the wolves started moving and speaking amongst each other again, eating at a more sedate pace. She took a few bites herself, before turning to the brown wolf whose name she forgot. Kuroko briefly considered asking the wolf his name, but once again decided not to, and instead asked what that whole weird ordeal was about.

He explained the pack was intruding on their territory. It’s an understandable thing, during a hunt, though rude. Politely sharing the kill was a way to keep relations positive between their packs. Clans. Families. The wolf blinked, considering the terms for a moment, before repeating ‘Packs’ and nodded like it was the right word to use.

He swept his eyes across the brush around them, keeping his voice low.

“As soon as we step away, the foxes will come forward. Be careful, Kuroko. They are more cat than wolf.”

The prickle on her neck got stronger, and she realized with a start that the bushes really weren’t THAT thick, and those were dozens of eyes staring out from the shadows, invisible to her other senses. Kuroko shivered, cautiously eating her fill before flying up into the trees once more.

True to the prediction, as soon as Akihito’s pack left the scene, an uncomfortable amount of foxes slithered in, feasting on the remnants of the kill.

A silver fox stood at the edge, staring up.

No.

Staring at her

Kuroko shivered again, flapping away toward her nest.

---

She arrived back at home to find her mother sprawled across the nest’s edge, looking worn-out and rather ruffled. The concerned question about the bird’s health was flat-out ignored, so Kuroko asked instead about the wolves and the foxes, and why they seemed so wary of each other.

Kokoro considered the question, slowly pulling her wings back in, and preening her feathers back in place before answering.

“The pack looks to the moon. Foxes have a history with the sun. Tsukuyomi, Susanoo, and Amaterasu aren’t really on good terms, and their devoted tend to be at-odds.”

Kuroko remembered the legends her mother told her once, a long time ago.

“Tsukuyomi….”

“I’m surprised the pack hasn’t raved about him, yet. He’s the god of the moon, and the night. They’ll probably drag you into one of their noisy ceremonies eventually.” Kokoro shook her head, ruffling her feathers before flattening them back into place.

Is that why wolves like to howl? Kuroko wondered. Giving thanks to the moon god?

“Then, who do we worship?”

Kokoro gave her an amused glance.

“I don’t worship any of the gods. Feel free to lay out offerings, though. I’m sure the squirrels will love it.”  

The crow immediately hopped out of the nest, flying slowly away in what was clearly an invitation to follow. She took the hint, keeping in her mother’s shadow as they headed toward the shallow creek that slithered through the southern edge of their territory. Kuroko wondered if she was imagining the way her mother was keeping one leg more tightly tucked to her belly.

“Why don’t we worship anyone?” Kuroko asked. “Is it really important?”

“Ask the wolves” her mom called out, without slowing down or looking back. “I’m sure they’d be happy to give you an earful. I try not to think about it.”

Kuroko wondered if something had happened, to make her mother so callous toward the gods she described so beautifully. She had not forgotten the long tales told in her nest, stories spun about the three gods, and how they had created human and demonkind. The jealousy of Kaguya, and the Many-Eyes’ downfall, corrupted for trusting the word of a human.

A dark storm brewing in her chest, Kuroko followed the older bird to the entrance of a cave, landing next to her on a boulder. The moss felt cool and springy under her feet, and she could feel cold air drifting out of the darkness within.

“Today.” Kokoro began, now clearly favoring one of her legs, “You will begin learning how to Listen to the shadows.”

Kuroko followed her mother to the edge of the cave, ignoring the way a few of her feathers flipped the wrong way from the little gusts of cold wind coming from inside. Her mother hopped to turn around, taking a slow breath.

“The first thing you should know is that the shadows themselves are just the absence of light. There’s nothing special about them. The average bird could fly around a cave all night, but the best they’d get is a broken neck. You know this, yeah?”

Her mother shook her own head, feathers sticking up for a moment before slowly settling back down. Kuroko nodded.

“With that in mind, the shadows you see me travel through, or the the ones you’ll learn to listen through - they’re not real shadows .”

Kuroko nodded, though she wasn’t actually sure what was being conveyed. Something metaphorical? Kokoro seemed to sense the bewilderment.

“It’s more like-” Her mother paused, head tilted in consideration. “Like you’re at the edge of a dark cave.” She flicked her tail toward the cave they stood beside. “Down the tunnel, there’s another room, and by traveling through the space you reach the other room.”

“Okaaay…So caves are caves.”  

She reflexively ducked away from an anticipated peck, but only got an unamused stare from an unmoving crow.

“Once you step through the cave entrance, you can see the light of the other side, as the entrance you just stepped through is closed. Head toward the light, and you’ll reach the other side. Or, listen at the entrance, and hear whoever’s talking.”

Kuroko dutifully remained quiet as her mother sat down, taking a moment to push a small stone out of the way, to nestle on the softer moss.

“So a shadow” she finally continued “Is a cave entrance, when you’re focusing correctly.”

Kuroko tilted her head.

“All of them. All the shadows.”

Oh.

Oh damn.

She looked toward the forest, noticing for the first time the sheer number of shadows weaving between branches, under leaves, tucked up next to stems and roots and… anything the light touched, basically. The potential wasn’t just the size and depth of the shadow, but the sheer number of places she could connect between.

“That’s a lot.” She whispered, and her mother nodded, still fidgeting in place and looking anxious about something. Either to get this lesson over with, or to be elsewhere in general.

“Too many to count. That’s why you only travel to the shadows you’ve seen before. The ones you know exist, and you know what to expect coming out.” The old crow flicked a bit of moss off the boulder. “It’s a bit of a mess, coming through a shadow to a place that’s no longer big enough for your body. They only go one way, after all. There’s some risk, and half the time you’re flying blind.”

Kuroko eyed the darkened cave with a bit more wariness.  

“Relax, squirt. No jumps for you yet. You’ve got a lot of sky to cover before you could even poke your beak into one. Today you’ll just be listening in.”  She gestured with her head. “Hop on over.”

Kuroko fluttered off the boulder, hopping closer to the chilly cave.  

“Push your Chakra to your ears. Focus on the darkness. Imagine it links to the shadows around you, and listen specifically to those. Visualizing a tunnel might help.”

The first part was easy enough. The world’s audio sharpened, magnifiying. She could hear the buzz of a dragonfly nearby, and the slide of blades of grass whispering as a snake slithered through. There was a woodpecker of some sort, far in the distance.

Focusing on the darkness, though…

She tried imagining some sort of spiritual experience, expecting to feel some sort of stretching, connecting feeling.

Kuroko opened her eyes, not sure when she had closed them.

The cave still looked like a cave.

Also, there seemed to be at least three different moles snuffing around down there, and a rather large colony of some sort of insect, munching and squirming and falling over each other with little clicks. Chakra-enhanced hearing was no joke.

She heard her mother sigh behind her. “Keep practicing. I’ll see you tonight.” and the whisper of wings, followed by a silence she knew was the sudden absence of a bird behind her.

Kuroko swallowed, closing her eyes again and trying to focus.

--

The next time she opened her eyes, it was due to the ravenous hunger growling in her stomach. Right, she hadn’t eaten since the boar.

Shutting off her audio enhancement, Kuroko blinked at the sudden muffled quiet of the world around her. It was so…. Dull. Faded. She tried not to give into the urge to push her senses up again, and focused on finding enough bugs and seeds and little critters to tide her over.

After a quick meal, she returned to the cave, and plopped her ass down in front of it.

“Focus on the darkness, It links to other shadows.” She repeated, wiggling side to side to get comfortable, and glaring at a shiny rock inside.

“Focus.”

She closed her eyes, and let her ears wake up once more.

--

She didn’t know how exactly much time had passed. Enough that the warm sunlight had become cold, and long shadows stretched across the ground. Between the faint snuffle-shuffle of moles and the click of still-unidentified insects, there was…. Something.

Encouraged, she tried focusing on it, straining her ears to pick up whatever that sound was. It whispered in and out of her range, almost-syllables, echoing and layering in ways she couldn’t quite identify. Kuroko felt her heart pick up, as the ‘voices’ got louder, a little clearer. It felt like she was trying to eavesdrop on someone on the other side of a very long tunnel. The sounds were there, but almost unintelligible after resonating at such a distance.

“Can you hear me?”

Her mother’s voice came from right in front of her, and Kuroko snapped her eyes open, rearing back with the expectation of a crow in her face.

There was only the cave. No, it wasn’t just the cave. Like a black curtain had been draped over it, the shadows seemed deeper somehow, darker than they ought to be.

She looked around hesitantly, noting the shadowy landscape around her, and how the crickets that had begun their evening symphony.

“Should I head home soon?” she asked the darkness.

And the darkness answered.  

“Not yet.. Listen for the crow voices. Like mine.”

Curious, she closed her eyes and listened harder, trying to pick out the raspy tones so familiar in her mother’s tongue.

“-next sunrise we-...-rthern roost...borders cross-... -eryone, return for assis-...”

They sound scared, She noted, straining a bit to listen more closely. More voices chimed in, words overlapping and becoming hard to pick apart.

“The Southern Roost has been compromised.” came her mother’s muttered voice, suddenly behind her. Kuroko pointedly did not startle, a bit more used to the bird’s habit of suddenly appearing wherever she damn well pleased.

“We noticed humans pushing into the Southern territory before you were born, but their infighting has spilled into the Roost itself. You’ll fly to the Foxes - they’ll finish the introductory training, but I needed to know I could contact you, in case of emergencies.”

Kuroko let her grasp on the shadowy whispers drop away, and the Cave’s unnatural black faded.

She regarded the older bird quietly, not sure if she should protest or not. Her bones felt tired, chest hollowed out in hunger again. Her Chakra was getting low.

“If it’s compromised, then you’ll be-”

“In danger, yes.” Kokoro flicked her tail dismissively. “Thousands make their nests at the southern site. A few humans, even Summoners, will have nothing on us, so long as we mobilize. I’ll retrieve you when it’s safe.”

Kuroko tried to pretend to be casual, okay with it, but fear started to well up despite her best intentions. The idea of being completely alone loomed ahead of her. She wouldn’t even have a familiar face to keep as reference.

“Fly West, Kuroko. You’ll find a human road. Follow that north, and keep an eye out for a river. The Foxes should be at the tallest pine tree on its bank, after you’ve passed a tall human structure”

Kuroko pulled her head down, hunching a little on the branch.

“You can’t just take me there?”

A flash of irritation in dark eyes.

“You need to learn to navigate beyond our little circle of forest. If you get lost, call out to me through the shadows. I’ll hear you.”

Her mother rumbled softly, carefully pulling a small fluff of loose down off of the side of Kuroko’s neck.

“West, then north along the road. Tall pine on the river. Got it?”

Kuroko nodded, repeating it back to her.

“Good. Fly well, little squirt. Don’t worry about me.”

She watched as her mother stepped back, one foot clenched strangely, spreading her wings in a rare display of showmanship. Darkness spread out from between the feathers, and she flapped up into the air, wings growing and feathers multiplying with shadowy tendrils, figure expanding into something huge and feathered and overwhelmingly dark . The world seemed a few shades dimmer, but the swelling Chakra in her heart reached out happily.

A monstrous approximation of a crow spread her wings between the trees. Rows of black eyes gleamed from the shadowy head, and her mother’s voice croaked.

“I’ll be fine.”

Before the wings snapped inward, vanishing into what could have been mistaken for a curl of black smoke, tucked into the curl of a falling leaf.

Kuroko stared at the particle darkness, watching it writhe for a moment before disappearing. Reviewing her mother’s explanation about shadows, she concluded the crow was being a show-off.

She glanced at the cave, and stood up. Something in her gut still worried that her mother was trying to bluff - or convince herself that things would be fine. It was too late to do anything about it now, and worrying couldn’t do much at this point.

Right, then.

She spread her wings, glancing at the setting sun to find her bearings, and launched into the sky.

Food first.

Then, an Adventure.