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love-and-monsters · 3 years

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Sauriosapien

M sairosapien X F human, 6,429 words.

This story does not have a reader-insert because I wanted to focus a little bit more on some characters that I came up with. This involves an established relationship, some fluff, and four tiny velociraptors. Enjoy!

The sun was blazing hot in the sky, so much so that it was uncomfortably warm even in the shade. A heavy mugginess hung in the air, so much so that Grace felt like she was inhaling through a damp rag. Sweat soaked through her loose ranger clothes. Even with her sleeves and pant legs rolled up, she was still overly warm. Fortunately, the trees were closely clustered enough that the sun only peeped through in tiny patches, dappling a few small areas of the ground.

Despite being so hot that she barely wanted to move, her tiny pack of velociraptors was running around like their tails were on fire. Rococo was perched in one of the trees, chattering furiously at Boho, who had her head stuck under the roots of one of the larger trees. Minimalism was hunched behind Grace’s legs while Maximalism oscillated between chattering at her and trying to snatch one of the tiny amphibians crawling through the damp undergrowth.

“C’mon babies!” Grace called, her voice higher pitched. “We got hunting to do!” She lifted her clicker and pressed the button a few times.

Rococo hopped out of the tree and skidded to a stop in front of Grace. Boho was right behind her. Maximalism fell into line next, chittering eagerly until Minimalism crept up next to him. Grace cooed to them. “Good, good! Okay, here. Sniff this.”

She crouched until she was on their level and held out a chunk of eggshells. Rococo’s nose was there in a second, snuffling intently. The other three were less enthusiastic, but Grace made sure they all got a good sniff before she stood back up. “Okay, babies! Go hunting!”

She clicked the pointer three times in rapid succession. Rococo placed her nose to the ground. A moment later, she gave a triumphant croak and took off into the trees. Boho and Maximalism fanned out on either side of her, with Minimalism bringing up the rear.

Grace ran after them. Despite only being the size of cats, the raptors were fast. Only the rustling in the undergrowth ahead of her let her know where her pack was. They called back and forth, little piping noises that blended with the usual cacophony of the forest.

Running was easy for Grace. Her body settled into an easy rhythm, burning with exertion, but not agonizingly so. She kept up a steady pace, keeping her raptors just in her sight. They worked best when she wasn’t crowding them.

After about fifteen minutes, Boho sent up a hooting signal. The rest of the raptors peeled off, following her lead. Grace followed them, slowing her pace as she approached so she didn’t trample over anything important.

Her raptors were chittering excitedly when she came upon them. Between the four of them, barely concealed in the branches, there was a nest of off-white eggs. Grace crouched next to it, voice hushed. “Okay, come back, babies. Yes, yes, good job.” Treats were passed out to the whole team, with a special helping going to Boho. She chittered and preened, giving the rest of the raptors superior looks. Grace laughed. Their little competitions inspired them to work harder, and Boho and Rococo had a particular rivalry.

Treats dished out, Grace reached into one of her back pockets and pulled out a notebook. She jotted down her rough coordinates, the size of the nest, and the number of eggs. Donning gloves, she prodded and poked at the eggs, rotating them and checking for unusual shell weakness, cracks, or any other signs of disease. Satisfied, she returned the eggs to the nest and carefully covered them once more. She walked over to one of the nearby trees and scored the bark before applying a sandy substance made from a mixture of crushed insects. The bitter, acrid smell was sharp enough to make Grace shy away, but it wouldn’t bother the mother of the nest and it would let her raptor pack know they had already visited that area.

The nearby undergrowth rustled. Grace drew up stiff, her raptors circling around her. Rococo sniffed at the air, head twitching back and forth. Then she dropped out of her alert posture and chirped reassuringly to the others. The rest of the raptors relaxed and Grace followed their lead. They would only be this relaxed around someone they knew. So, the person coming through the trees must be-

A flash of green and pink darted out from between the trees and skidded to a stop. He stood just as upright as a human, but he balanced on large, bird-like talons. His tail swung behind him, acting as a counterbalance. A massive hot pink crest of feathers covered the last quarter of his tail and crowned his head. Fangs glinted as his mouth stretched into a smile.

“Gracie.” There was a slight rasp in his voice, a noise that traced deliciously through Grace’s head and sent tingles along the back of her neck. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Howdy,” Grace said, tilting her hat back. “You could have just waited for me to head back to town. I’m kind of working right now.” No sooner had the words left her mouth than Rococo charged their visitor. The rest of the pack followed her, working their small, feathered wings to propel their jumps so they could attach themselves to his chest. He staggered under the unexpected weight and sank to the ground, lifting his tail awkwardly to prevent his crest from getting dirtied.

“Seems like these guys want a break,” he said. Minimalism chittered wildly from her position on his lap while Boho buried her face into his head crest. Rococo, perched on his shoulder, made an attempt to corral her subordinates that was cut off when Maximalism started snapping at her tail feathers.

“Seems more like someone’s being a distraction,” Grace said. She gave a sharp whistle. Rococo, Maximalism, and Minimalism snapped to attention and formed their line in front of her. Boho kept her face pressed into his crest until Rococo rounded back and drove her into position.

He carefully got back to his feet, brushing dirt off his clothes. “I’m surprised you’re working,” he said. There was something deliberately airy and casual in his voice. Too casual. Grace paused, taking her attention off her raptors.

“Why are you surprised?” she asked carefully. She tried to rack her brain. Was she forgetting something?

“Oh,” he sighed, scanning the trees around him. “It’s nothing major. Only that you told me last week you were going to take a day off so we could actually spend some time together.”

Ah. Shit. Grace felt her face go hot with shame. Oops. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to- I totally forgot what day it was!” She considered blaming it on her unfamiliarity with the Sauriosapien calendar, but that wouldn’t have been true- even with the standard human calendar, she was always mixing up dates and forgetting things.

He frowned. His crest was pulled tight against his head, feathers tucked in to display his irritation. That was far worse than the aggressive puff he showed off when he was really and truly pissed; this was more akin to someone saying ‘I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed.’

“Look, I really am sorry. Uh, hold on. Let me take these guys back home and get a little washed up, and maybe change into some nicer clothes and I’ll be right there.”

He shook his head. “Don’t bother. You’re already out here and in the middle of work, and these guys are already all wound up.” He gestured to Boho, who was practically twitching with the effort of staying still and in line. “I was just coming to make sure nothing happened to you.”

Grace felt her shoulders droop. “Oh. Thanks for that.” Her eyes were stinging slightly with humiliation and anger at herself. “I’m sorry you came out all this way. Maybe we can go out tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “I took off work today.” Irritation was thick in his voice again. Grace slumped her shoulders. He worked in a particularly popular boutique and getting specific days off was always difficult for him.

“Are you sure you don’t just want me to go home? I can always do this tomorrow. I’ll just let everyone out in the yard and they’ll run themselves out,” she said.

He gave a snort, his lips twitching into a half-smile. “You remember what happened the last time they were in the yard for more than an hour without supervision.”

Grace grimaced. As many times as she reinforced the fence and made it taller, the raptors found a new way to get out. The last time, Rococo and Boho had managed to dig underneath until the chicken wire had come loose and had squirmed free. Everyone but a very lonely Minimalism had been gone by the time Grace made it back, and she’d spent much of the night tramping through the forest looking for them. “Then they can go in the coop. They’ll destroy it, but I can clean it up later.”

“That’s not fair to them,” he said, and despite the situation, Grace felt her heart surge with affection. Even pissed off, even if it would benefit him not to, he cared for her raptors. “You’ve already wound them up for work. Just let them continue.”

“Are you really sure?” Grace asked. He waved a hand at her dismissively.

“I’m sure.” He gave her a smile, though it was clearly tense and tinged with sadness. “I know you have a lot of difficulty with remembering dates and things that aren’t on your schedule, but… well, I really would like to spend time with you more often than a couple evening every week. And it’s frustrating when you don’t remember these kinds of things.”

“I know. I’m really sorry. It’s not that it’s not important to me. It is! It’s just… if things aren’t part of my schedule and I don’t have reminders, then I tend to forget them.” She pulled her hat off and ran her fingers through her hair. “You know I missed my own birthday a couple years ago?”

He looked at her a little blankly. “Er… that’s important?”

Right, egg-laying people didn’t think about birthdays the same way. “Uh. It’s like forgetting your hatching day, I guess, but birthdays have more cultural significance to us.” He nodded slowly, though he didn’t seem to understand. “Days just kind of all blur together for me. Time is a flat circle and a total scam and I don’t know dates very well and I’m sorry. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

He stared, but his lips were quirking like he was trying to hold back a smile. “We’ll have to work on this in the future. I just came out to make sure that you were all right.” He turned, waving a four-fingered hand over his shoulder. “I’ll see you when you’re home from work.”

“Velly, wait!” He paused, looking over his shoulder. Grace swept her had back up onto her head and offered him an apologetic smile. “I, uh. I feel bad that you came all the way out here for nothing. Why don’t you stay a little bit?”

Vel paused. “You’re working.”

“I know. But I mean, the pack knows you pretty well. You probably won’t be much of a distraction for them.”

He tried to give her a serious look, but his lips were twitching again. “I’m pretty sure that you’re not supposed to be on a date during the work day either.”

“No one will find out. We’re in the middle of the park. You just need to head back before I go to the ranger’s center. And it’s not like you didn’t already sneak in.”

He laughed. “Well. Yes. That’s true.” His crest fluffed up, his tail swinging back and forth. “Are you going to have to take me in?”

“Hey, if you give me any trouble, I might have to cuff you,” Grace said with a grin. She didn’t miss the little shiver that moved through Vel’s crest. “Maybe I’ll just restrain you and leave you in the woods for anyone to find…”

Rococo, apparently irritated at being ignored, took that moment to nip at Grace’s boot.

“Okay, okay! Come on, let go.” She shook her boot and the raptor detached. Rococo trotted back to the others, but Grace could tell her patience wasn’t going to hold for much longer. “Like I was saying,” she continued, turning back to Vel, “I can’t trust you to leave on your own, so I guess you’re going to just have to come with me. No trying to escape or anything.”

Vel grinned. “No, ma’am.”

Grace turned back to her raptors and clicked her clicker. They all skittered back into formation, looking up at her expectantly. “All right. We found one. Go get another one!” She clicked the clicker rapidly and the raptors took a moment to snuffle at the ground before plunging into the trees. Grace took off after them, Vel following her.

The raptors pulled ahead again, stunningly fast for such little animals. Grace followed at a small distance, careful not to go at much more than a jog. She was fast, for a human, but she couldn’t maintain the speed for very long. As long as she could trace their path through the trees and hear their calls back and forth, she could track them.

The bigger concern was Vel. He was already starting to lag, even after only a minute or so of running. He was not as well-trained as Grace, nor as fit, and no sauriosapien was as good of an endurance runner as a human. He might be able to outrun her in a sprint, but the further they went, the less likely that was.

Vel looked to be on the verge of collapse by the time the raptors called out again and came to a halt at another next. Grace, slightly winded, leaned on the nearby tree. Vel hunched over, making wheezing noises like his lungs were going to come out of his mouth.

“You good?” Grace said. He gave her a thumbs-up, then sagged all the way to the ground.

“I can see why they like humans to do this job,” he said. He rested one of his hands on his chest as he panted. “I think my heart’s going to explode out of my chest.”

“Hey, humans may be better at endurance running in general, but a sauriosapien could do this job,” Grace said as she bent down to uncover the nest. “Don’t throw your whole species under the bus because you’re really out of shape.”

Maximalism had found the nest, and he was crowing over the others, holding his second treat in his mouth like a prize. Minimalism crawled up next to him, chittering anxiously until he allowed her to take a tiny nibble of the treat, then he gulped it down. Grace waved them off, checking the size and integrity of the nest.

Vel, having recovered slightly, rolled onto his side to watch her. “What exactly are you doing with that nest?”

“I told you about this the other night,” Grace said, not looking up from the nest. Vel pushed himself up into a sitting position, shifting his robes around him.

“Yeah, but I had a hard time figuring it out. I’m better when I can actually see what you’re doing.” He crept closer, though he paused a short distance away, like he was concerned that his presence would disturb the nest.

“There’s a few species of microraptors whose nests have been damaged recently. There’s some kind of disease that’s been going around and causing all sorts of problems with the shells.” She covered the nest back up and scent-marked it. “I’ve been trying to tag the number of nests there are and making sure the eggs are in good shape. If we find any nests where the eggs look weak, we’ll tag them and collect the eggs. Hopefully we’ll be able to raise them until they can hatch and be returned to the wild.”

“Oh,” Vel said. He crept a little closer. “How’s this nest doing?”

“All good. I haven’t actually seen too many bad eggs in the past couple of days I’ve been doing this. Hopefully that means that the disease hasn’t been spreading too much.” She gestured to the raptors and clicked at them. They circled up around her. “And we’re keeping our eyes peeled for any rat dens we find. If we locate those, we-”

Minimalism let out a loud peep and darted out of the circle. She plunged her narrow muzzle into a nearby bush, snapping wildly. There was a squeak, some thrashing, and Minimalism withdrew her head. A rat dangled from her jaws.

“Oh, good girl!” Grace got down on one knee. Minimalism ran over, giving up the rat in favor of another treat. “Yes, you’re a good girl! You’ve done very well!” She carefully placed the rat into a plastic bag and eased that into her pack.

“What do you do with the rats?” Vel asked. He looked mostly recovered from his mad dash, his crest perking up once more.

“Send them to a lab. They usually run some tests on them, try to do a blood panel and figure out if they’ve got any diseases they’re spreading. There’s been some concerns that the rats are actually spreading the disease that’s causing the nest weaknesses.” Grace got back to her feet, her knees cracking loudly. “Ugh, I’m like an old woman.”

“And yet, you’re still more fit than me,” Vel said. He clambered to his feet and shook his robes free of leaf litter and debris from lying on the ground. “Do we have to run again?”

Grace laughed. “I’ll see if I can slow these guys down, so we can give you a break.” She clicked at the raptors a few times. “All right, slow, babies.” Rococo chirped in confirmation, then turned and chittered at the other raptors. Satisfied her message had been conveyed, she took off, the others fanning out behind her. Grace straightened back up. “Come on.”

This time, they went at a light jog. It barely winded Grace, but Vel still struggled to keep up. At least this time, he wasn’t wheezing so alarmingly when he breathed, so Grace didn’t have to be constantly worried he was going to collapse.

Vel was at least able to keep up as they tracked down and assessed the nests. The frequent breaks they took while Grace examined the eggs seemed to be helping him keep up, but by the middle of the day, he was definitely flagging. Even Grace, with her much better stamina and training, was starting to feel the beginnings of exhaustion.

“We’ll take a break,” she said, signaling the raptors. They were starting to look fatigued as well, mouths hanging open as they panted and their feathers drawn tight against their body in an effort to calm them down. “I need to eat lunch anyway.”

Vel collapsed next to her as she spread out a mat and set down her packed lunch. “Here. I brought some dried meat with me.” She offered him a package wrapped in paper. He opened it and pulled out a jerky strip.

“Thanks.” She knew it wasn’t his favorite, but he ate it without complaint.

“I don’t have much for you,” she said, digging through the pack. “I know running around all afternoon must be making you hungry. Er, I might have a few hard-boiled eggs.”

“I don’t want to take your lunch,” Vel said as he snapped down another strip of meat. “You need to eat more than I do.”

Humans, thanks to their endothermy, needed to eat much more frequently than sauriosapiens- at least three meals a day, nearly two thousand calories, compared to the typical two-meal, thousand calorie diets of the sauriosapiens. The sauriosapiens were only selectively endothermic, with their bodies heating up with exercise and cooling down when they were inactive or sleeping. That meant their bodies could manage with far fewer calories, though after running around for a while, there was quite a large loss of energy.

“Missing one meal won’t kill me. I’ll be fine.” Grace pulled out a couple of hard-boiled eggs. They were large enough to fill her palm, much larger than the chicken eggs she’d been used to at home. She passed one to Vel, who hesitated for a moment before cracking the shell with his claws.

“Thank you.” He took a bite out of the white, eyes drifting half-shut as he tasted the rich fattiness of the yolk. A lot of food in sauriosapien culture was fixated on fattiness and oils. It was an easy way to get calorie-rich food, considering that they couldn’t taste sugar and were fairly carnivorous. Grace hadn’t eaten much in the way of refined sugar since she’d arrived, only managing to scrounge a few pieces of fruit that she grew herself. She took a piece of dried fruit from her bad and chewed idly on it.

The raptors gathered together, chittering and playing with each other. Grace watched as they tumbled around, hopping over each other, nipping at tails, and generally enjoying themselves. She could see Vel giggling at them out of the corner of her eye.

“Thank you for coming with me,” she said. Vel licked some egg yolk off his finger as he turned toward her.

“Well, we were supposed to have a date today,” he said. There was a slightly sarcastic edge to his voice. Grace ducked her head, a flush of shame touching her cheeks.

“I really am sorry about that. I’ll make it up to you,” she promised.

“I knew what I was getting into then I started dating you,” Vel said. “Remember when there was a holiday in the middle of the week and you tried to go into work anyway?”

Grace pulled her hat down over her head to hide her face. “Ugh. Please don’t remind me.”

Vel laughed into his hand. “You were messed up for the rest of the week. Kept thinking you had days off when you didn’t… and the raptors were confused too! Poor Rococo, she started yelling at you, trying to get you to go out and then you started to think maybe she was right and not you…”

Grace swatted his shoulder. “Keep teasing me and I’ll make good on my threat to tie you up.”

“Will you?” Vel asked, his voice dropping into a lower register. Grace pressed a finger to his forehead and pushed him back, causing him to break into another fit of soft giggles.

A shaft of sunlight broke through the trees and fell across Vel’s face. His green scales gleamed under the sun, glossy as ocean-smoothed glass. Grace took a moment to just take in his face. His teeth gleamed, sharp as knives, but somehow also attractive. His eyes were glistening, beautiful gold. Grace swore that when the sunlight struck them, they illuminated like a chunk of pyrite. His feathered crest twitched and flared. The motion of the feathers was always fascinating, the way they ruffled in response to his emotions. Touching them was always a wonderful experience. Feeling their slight motions against her fingers was grounding, the reassuring contact of another living being that trusted her completely.

Vel was attractive, by both human and sauriosapien standards. The human standards would be satisfied by his reasonably tall stature with smooth, lithe muscles, his flowing grace, and his fine-boned face. The sauriosapien standards were satisfied by the bright green of his scales and the brilliant pink of his head and tail crests. Not only were they an incredibly vibrant pink, but they were thick and full and expressive. Grace had seen the interested looks of other sauriosapiens when they walked through town together. Whether or not they approved of his relationship with her, she wasn’t sure. She could observe their attraction to Vel with a sort of clinical detachment, but when it came to how people viewed her, she had no idea.

“Are you still hungry?” Vel asked. She looked down. His head had migrated onto her lap somehow, and the side of his face was pressed against her middle. “I can hear your stomach growling.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I know a place-” She trailed off. Huh. Maybe she could really make up for screwing up their date.

“You know a place?” Vel prompted, lifting his head. She turned her attention back to him and scratched along his crest in that just-right spot. He made a trilling noise and went nearly limp.

“Never mind. We need to get moving.” She carefully tucked any wrappers and containers back into her bag and swung it up onto her shoulders. Vel got to his feet, shaking some leaf litter from his clothes. They were in typical sauriosapien style, which meant they looked a little like a fancy hospital gown to Grace’s eyes. They were essentially robes that clipped together in the back, which gave ample space for their tail. She’d seen a few sauriosapiens try to put on human clothes before, which was always amusing. The head holes were never big enough to accommodates their stiff crests, and the pants were just a complete disaster, what with their digitigrade legs and tails.

On the other hand, humans who wore sauriosapien clothes, along with the inherent indignity of the outfits nearly always being too big, tended to have their asses hanging out through the tail hole, so it went both ways.

They started through the forest once more, this time with Grace reigning her raptors in close. A series of whistles and click signals kept them close by, though she couldn’t prevent them from running ahead at least a little bit. They jumped in and out of the undergrowth, scaling the trees on occasion and snapping at insects that settled nearby.

“Are we still looking for nests?” Vel asked. Despite the slowed pace, he was still panting a little. Going to slow was nearly maddening for Grace, but she slowed down a hair more.

“We’re going to put a pause on that for now,” she said. “There’s somewhere I want to check out first.”

“Oh,” Vel said. He fell silent, devoting most of his energy to walking. Grace focused her attention on watching the raptors jump around. Rococo snapped a bright flower from a nearby bush and bolted back to her, chittering furiously.

“Thank you,” Grace said. Rococo relinquished the flower when Grace offered her a treat in return and immediately bolted back to the others, chirping with excitement. Within moments, the other raptors were gathering up flowers and offering them to Grace. Her arms filled with the sweet-smelling blooms, the raptors chittering and hopping up and down around her.

“All right, all right, that’s enough,” Grace said. She waved her hand at them, dismissing them. They plunged back into the undergrowth to find some other game to play.

“Did you train them to do that?” Vel asked, looking at the flowers with amusement.

“No, they kind of trained themselves,” Grace said. “They know that performing certain behaviors will get them treats. If one of them sees another getting a treat for something, they’ll all repeat it until I stop giving treats. They know that when I make the cut of signal, though, no more treats are coming and they need to stop. I don’t want them completely stripping the forest of flowers to get treats.” She gathered the flowers in her arms into a bouquet. “Here.”

Vel blinked as she thrust the flowers into his arms. They were a cacophony of bright colors that complimented his brilliant pink crest. “Oh,” he said. He wasn’t able to blush, thanks to his scales, but his tail whipped back and forth so fast it knocked down a sapling. His crest flared, feathers spreading into a brightly colored crown. “Thank you.” He adjusted them to sit in the crook of his elbow. “I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe. You’ve got a lot of admirers, you know.” Not only was he handsome, but his shy, slightly submissive personality was considered the height of masculinity to sauriosapiens. Sure, males were typically expected to make the first move in relationships, performing display behaviors with their feathers and showing off for any females they were interested in, but Vel would have had enough admirers that one of them would have taken it upon themselves to ask him out.

“I don’t know about a lot,” Vel said, his crest twitching with embarrassment. “And we don’t really give flowers as gifts. Carved bones or teeth are more likely. But I know flowers are more important to humans.” He removed one of the flowers with the longest stems and turned to tuck it into Grace’s hair. His claws were sharp enough that any touch against Grace’s thin human skin was dangerous, but she’d never felt any sort of threat from him. He didn’t even cut a hair as he slid the flower into place behind her ear.

“Really important is an exaggeration. But it’s a common gift.” She carefully adjusted the flower so it wouldn’t fall out. “Here, let me.” She plucked another flower from the bouquet, picking a pale yellow one that would offset the hot pink nicely, and tucked it into his crest. He made a soft rumbling noise in his chest as her fingers trailed along the edge of his crest.

There was an irritated chirping at her feet. Grace looked down to see Rococo and Maximalism peering up at her. Boho and Minimalism were only slightly further back, also staring. Their impatient gazes made Grace realize that she and Vel had simply been staring into each other’s eyes, not moving at all.

“We should keep going,” she said. She waved her hand to the raptors. They took off into the trees. “Come on.” Without thinking, she linked her fingers through his and pulled him along after her.

Vel struggled to keep up with her still, so she was very much dragging him through the undergrowth. He clutched her hand with both of his as he panted. “Uh. Hah… Could… Gracie, could we please slow down a little?”

She slowed her steps just a bit and he stumbled into her, letting his body weight fall onto her. She bore it with only a little effort. He was almost exactly her height, but all sauriosapiens were light-boned and limber, so he weighed less than he appeared to. “Do you want me to carry you?” she teased, thought she knew he would say no. It was probably for the best. She could have lifted him for a while, but it was awkward carrying something the same size as her and she couldn’t carry something even only three-quarters of her body weight for a long time.

“No. You just gotta stop moving so fast. I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack.” Vel lay a hand over his chest as he straightened up. Once he’d managed to regain his breath, he glanced around the forest in curiosity. “Where are we?”

The trees were thicker around them, their canopies clustered close together so their leaves blocked most of the sun. The humidity of the forest was thicker, but the lack of sunlight added a little coolness to the air. Without as much sun reaching the forest floor, the undergrowth had mostly cleared. The raptors hopped around the enormous tree roots, even darting under a few particularly enormous ones that bulged up from the ground.

“We’re closer to the middle of the forest. Come this way.” Grace picked her way over a few of the larger roots. Vel followed, his hand still gripping at hers. The ground grew damp under their feet the further they went. Vel managed it a lot better than Grace did- his feet were broader, allowing him to balance well on the spongey ground. A couple of times, his grip on Grace’s arm saved her from falling face-first into the muck.

Grace picked her way over the crest of a small hill and stopped. “Okay. We’re here.”

Vel peeked over her shoulder and his breath caught. The raptors, chittering with delight, hopped down along the sloping ground in front of them until they hit the waterfront.

In the middle of a circle of trees, covered with tangled green vines, there was a crystalline spring of water. Lily-like flowers dotted the surface, adding splashes of bright color in the green.

“Oh!” Vel said. His crest flared and his tail whipped back and forth. Grace couldn’t help but smile at the look on his face. “Oh, it’s gorgeous. I’ve never seen this place before. I didn’t even know it was here.”

“Technically, we’re not supposed to be here. It’s in the restricted section of the park, because of these.” Grace crouched down and pointed toward a particularly thick patch of lilies. Under the plants there was a tiny, darting crowd of fish.

“Because of fish?” Vel said, crouching next to her. The fish were small, barely longer than the first two joints of his finger, and mostly tail. They had mostly dull coloration, except for a brilliant red splash on their backs. He reached his finger toward the water, like he was about to stroke them, then pulled back with a cautious look at Grace.

“I wouldn’t touch them,” she said. “They’re sensitive little things. And they’re not actually fish. They’re the tadpole stage of a kind of amphibian.”

“Like a frog?” Vel said.

“Sort of. A little more like salamanders, actually. They’re about this big, only as long as your hand, and they’re pretty similar in coloration to these little guys. Mostly greenish-brown, with a big splash of red on their backs. They’re pretty uncommon in the area, though. Most of the time, they lay their eggs in the rainy season, when a lot of temporary puddles form. When they fully metamorphosize, they find a damp spot and bury underground until the next rainy season, when they can find a mate and lay their eggs.” Grace indicated the circumference of the pond. “This spot’s the only place where you can consistently find them. It’s fed from an underground spring, so it’s here year-round. Every year, you can find a few tadpoles here. We use it to keep an eye on the population.”

“How come no one’s allowed to know about it?” Vel asked.

“Uh, the tadpoles get hunted a lot. See the red spot on their backs? That secretes a kind of hallucinogenic substance. It’s deadly to sauriosapiens, and to most other species here, but to mammals, it acts more like a slightly milder form of acid.” Vel gave her a bewildered look. “Uh, it’s like a euphoria-inducing drug that can give you really nice hallucinations. Humans like it a lot. There’s a big underground market for it, so smugglers try to catch the tadpoles every year. But because the nests move every year, they need to look for them. We’ve done a pretty good job so far at keeping this spot safe- as long as they can’t find a regular spot to pull the tadpoles from, their hunting shouldn’t put too much of a strain on the population.”

Vel nodded. “It’s a shame. It’s beautiful here.”

Grace nodded. “It’s one of the prettier locations. If you stay here for a while, you can usually see some animals come through to drink.” She let her hands hang at her side, pinky finger just barely brushing against Vel’s. “Thank you, by the way.”

He glanced at her. “For what?” “For forgiving me. For coming along with me on my work day. For being understanding. For letting me speak about the tadpoles. I don’t often get to discuss these things with other people.”

“Oh. You don’t need to thank me for that. I like listening to you speak. You have a very soothing voice.” Vel was quiet for a second. “Oh, and you’re welcome.”

Grace hummed and threaded her free hand through his crest. His eyes drifted shut. He leaned back against her. A soft rumble sounded through his chest, almost like a purr. Grace felt her eyes closing as well. It was beautifully warm, and if she shifted a little and dangled her feet in the water, it added a cool, soothing element. Vel shifted a little to wrap his arms around her.

And then about twelve pounds of velociraptor cannonballed itself into Grace’s stomach.

She jerked, limbs flailing involuntarily. Vel’s head, previously resting on her shoulder, shot up. The soft dirt at the edge of the pond crumbled under their sudden movements and gave way. Vel barely had time to shriek before he slid sideways into the water.

Grace, sitting on a better-structured patch of dirt, didn’t slip, but was soaked anyway by Vel’s panicked flailing. It calmed within a moment when he realized the pond was only about five feet deep and he could stand pretty easily. He shook his head, spraying water from his crest.

“Ow,” Grace said. Boho, the raptor who had launched into her stomach, blinked innocently. The three other raptors watched with the wide eyed interest of children whose sibling had just broken a prized possession.

Vel spat out a mouthful of water. “Are you all right?”

“Nothing I haven’t been through before,” Grace said, fixing Boho with her sternest stare. Boho’s crest drooped and she crept off of Grace’s lap like a scolded puppy. “Are you all right?”

“Wet,” Vel said. He braced his arms on the bank and heaved himself up. “But not harmed.” He shook himself off like a wet dog. The water cleared fairly easily from his scaly skin, but his crest and tail were saturated, as was his outfit. Grace’s clothes were similarly soaked.

“I was going to suggest that we headed back,” Grace said, “but I suppose it makes more sense to wait here until we dry off.”

Vel smiled, sharp teeth glinting. “Maybe we should get out of these wet clothes, first? It might help them dry quicker.”

Grace lifted an eyebrow, but she couldn’t help a tiny laugh. “I suppose.” She smiled at him as he stood and started to undo the straps of his clothes. “I love you.”

Vel paused in his undressing to kiss her forehead. “I love you, too.” His grin widened and became wicked. “Now strip.”

#exophilia #exophilia writing #lizard folk #sauriosapien #monster boyfriend #monster lover #dinosaur #OCxOC #fluff #established relationship

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thero0ks · 4 years

Text

My Most Treasured Items

Reiner receives a letter from someone in his past.

No happy ending, just angst.

Season Four spoilers

Trigger Warnings: Detailed description of death/corpses, brief discussion of childhood abuse

The detour had never been in the battle plan. Hanji and Levi would probably be pissed if they knew she’d taken an alternate route. She had studied the map for weeks to know the layout of the city, so that this detour would only add a couple seconds to her time. That’s why she took off a few moments earlier than everyone else. Her feet landed in the alleyway. Peeking her head out to check the Main Street she found it was empty. Rushing to the lone mailbox she pulled out the crisp white envelope. Having taken great care to avoid any wrinkles in the delicate paper she gave the envelope a soft kiss before placing it in the mailbox.

Four years later she would be able to speak her peace. Her shoulders relaxed. A weight lifting off her as she took off in the air once more to rendezvous with the rest of the squad.

* **

They sat around the table discussing Zeke’s betrayal. Reiner proposed an immediate counter attack. They left the meeting agreeing to think on the matter.

Entering his own barracks he found a letter placed on his bedside table. The flowing script pulled at something in his memory. Amber eyes flickered over to the name of the sender and his heart stopped. Y/N L/N.

His legs gave way as he sat on the edge of the bed tearing open the letter. Another Devil from his past had come back to haunt him.

To my beloved Reiner,

What would I do if I had 13 years to live? I’ve thought about the question for four years now, and I still don’t have an answer. By my calculations you only have a year, maybe two left?

I know your love for me was forced, and I truly apologize for the turmoil I caused you. A devil like me is hard to love for someone like you. The bitter truth that you were always enough for me, but I was only another sin that stained your hands is a hard thing to bear. I guess I have a knack for loving the wrong people. Perhaps that’s my punishment for the sins of my ancestors? Isn’t that what you Marleyans say?

You said a lot of things four years ago, but I didn’t get to say a word. I just watched you leave, and dealt with the aftermath of all my friends dying. For the record, I never wanted any of this. I think all this death is senseless, and I meant what I always said that this world could use more love.

I guess this world doesn’t have a place for dreamers.

I wanted to hate you for choosing them over us, but I realize that’s your home. It's easy to hate something you hold no attachment to. Loyalty is a strong trait, and it’s something I wanted to curse you for. I looked at you leaving me as a betrayal, but how can you betray something or someone you were never loyal to in the first place?

I guess that’s what I’m trying to say. I forgive you for not choosing me, but I also ask that you forgive me for not choosing you anymore either. There is not a decision either one of us could change that would have put us on a different path. For both of our sakes I wish to allow you a glimpse into my dreams.

I choose to believe in a world where we made all the right choices. One where we ended up together, happy, and surrounded by all our fallen comrades.

Maybe you have no desire to see me in that way. Perhaps every stolen moment we had was nothing more then something you did to pass the time. I want to believe the man you showed me exists, because everything I showed you was real.

Even after four years I cannot hate you. I hope your heart softens when you think of me too.

With love,

Y/N L/N

A tear splashed on the cream colored paper. Reiner’s hand moved to his cheek trying to recall the moment his eyes leaked water. His heart ached at her words.

Every time he recounted his time on Paradis to other Marleyans internally he always ended the statement with “except her.” Never had he said it aloud, but never had he lumped her in with the rest of them.

He remembered the night when she finally opened up about herself. Growing up in poverty, her abusive father, and the inner turmoil she felt about loving the man that abused her. He’d been so angry when she recounted the abuse to him, and the confusion he felt when she expressed empathy for the monster.

Gripping the letter he realized he had been a different monster to her. Wasn’t that his goal? Make the Devils of Paradis suffer? Then why did he want to beg for forgiveness at her feet for the sins he committed against her?

Running his hand through his hair he straightened the letter. Rereading it, hoping for poisoned words to jump out of the page. He deserved every verbal lashing she could bestow upon him, but he knew they would never come.

He wanted to write back to her. Tell her there wasn’t a moment he regretted leaving her on that island to rot. How her heartbroken look still haunted his dreams. Mostly he just wanted to assure her that he too wanted desperately to believe that in some alternative universe they would be together forever.

Here he was encouraging a full scale attack on the island. “Forgive me for not choosing you anymore either.” The hope of a relationship between the two had been crushed with that statement, but love still lingered in their hearts.

She was exactly what he needed. His bed felt cold without her. He still had issues going to bed alone, because she wasn’t there to coax into bed. Knowing her soft heart would melt if he told her he couldn’t sleep without her.

It was such a strange thing that someone so small was friends with the dark. She often told him she found peace when darkness coated the earth. Perhaps that’s what made it easy for him to fall asleep in her arms. He’d tried to tell her he was a monster, but she’d always kiss his forehead, and assure him that he was a good man, and that she would love him no matter what.

A knock on the door pulled Reiner out of his thoughts. “What is it?”

Porco poked his head through the door, “we have all the Devils bodies. Magath wants you to take a look,” Porco said, gripping the door knob. “See if anybody essential to their military is among them.”

Reiner sighed, folding the letter up and tucking it away before following Porco down to the yard where the bodies were being kept. The gate guards gave them a nod of acknowledgment as they passed.

Several rows of bodies were laid out and Reiner inspected each. They were all new faces. The attack on Paradis they launched four years ago had wiped out the scout regiment.

Reaching the last row he caught sight of a female corpse. The (dark/light) hair looked familiar. His feet seemed to echo off the pavement. Stopping in front of the body he took her in. Her soft curves had grown cold and stiff. Several bullet holes littered her body, and her neck was twisted in an odd angle. Bile rose in Reiner’s throat as he took in the soft cheeks, and her eyes that once held so much warmth were nothing but an empty abyss devoid of life. The color now dull the light long gone out.

Tears streamed down his face as shaking hands reached out to her. Nothing felt like her as he touched her cold skin. He hadn’t felt the sting of pavement as he fell on his knees to grip her hand and brush the hair from her face.

Porco remained silent. Taking in Reiner’s actions. Porco couldn’t find it in his heart to judge the man for falling in love with a devil. Especially when he had watched the woman die.

“I should have taken you back to Marley.” Reiner babbled, amber eyes fixed in the past.

“Reiner, she chose to attack Marley,” Porco tried to reason.

The large man rounded on him. “You know nothing about her,” he seethed. “She never wanted any of this.” Running his fingers through his hair. “All she wanted was to find something more out there than hell she was living in.”

“You can’t blame her death on yourself.” Porco reasoned.

“She would never have come here if it was not for me,” Reiner stated, as he removed a leather pouch that was strapped to her thigh. A bitter laugh escaped his lips as he pulled a small stone out.

* ** “Hey L/N!” Reiner said tossing the small stone at her.

A squeak escaped her lips as she lifted her hands to block her face. The stone making an audible thud against her ribs. “You didn’t even try to catch it,” Reiner said, picking the stone back up.

“Well I’m sorry, I grew up with an older brother who would have just pelted me with the rock,” she huffed. “It was a natural reaction to go into defense mode.”

Reiner let out a laugh at the thought of an elder L/N terrorizing her. “It’s a lucky rock,” he said offering the rock to her. He held the perfectly round stone between his index finger and thumb and her fingers brushed against his to pluck it out of his grasp.

“What makes it lucky?” she inquired. Curious eyes flickered up to catch his gaze.

He simply shrugged, “it’s perfectly round. That’s gotta be lucky.”

His answer seemed to satisfy her. “If I make it through our next mission without dying I’ll believe it’s lucky,” she said tucking the stone away in her leather pouch she kept secured to her thigh.

“What’s in your pouch?” Reiner asked, his head tilted as his gaze focused on her legs.

“My most treasured items,” she said with a shrug. “Tell you what Braun if I die before you, you can have my pouch and whatever is in it.”

Reiner ruffled her hair. “You’re not going to die as long as I’m by your side.”

* **

“The only time she wasn’t suffering was when I was lying to her,” Reiner murmured, the guilt washing over him at the sin he most regretted. The luck in the stone had finally faded Reiner thought numbly, or maybe it was the belief in the luck that died.

Perhaps he should be honored that a piece of him was counted among her most treasured possessions. A black and white photograph was the next thing he pulled out. It was a portrait, and Y/N was dressed in Marley’s finest. Joy seemed to be radiating from her face. Reiner’s guilt seemed to lessen. It was possible she had found a way to move on in her daily life.

The next thing he pulled out was a love letter. Reading through it he was surprised to find a small hand drawn portrait enclosed. The letter and portrait signed by Jean Kirstein. By the letter it was a different kind of love. It was the kind of love made for slow mornings, and gentle hearts. It was built for smooth sailing, but was never meant to survive the storms that life threw. Perhaps she knew that, and cherished the safety Jean had brought her for the period of their relationship.

The fact was that Reiner’s relationship with her had been built to weather storms, but he had set sail without her, so she was left to weather the waves without a life preserver. Somehow she’d clawed her way to the shore to try and rebuild what he had taken.

The last thing he pulled out was a small leather journal. Flipping through the pages he found some entries dated to cadet training, and her last entry was the night she died.

“Magath is going to want to read that journal,” Porco stated. Breaking the silence that he had given Reiner to go through her belongings.

Reiner tucked the items back into the satchel. “Can you give me the night to read through it?” Reiner’s downcast eyes took her corpse in one last time.

Porco nodded, “yeah just give it to Magath tomorrow.” Porco gave Reiner’s shoulder an awkward squeeze before leaving him.

Reiner tried to figure out how to say goodbye to the last thing in the past he cared about. The soldier was officially gone, and the only thing that remained was the warrior. All he wanted was more time. His thirteen years were almost up, his best friend and the love of his life didn’t have as much time. Perhaps they would be waiting for him. All he wanted was to see their smiles at the end of all of this. He was tired of fighting, and he was tired of being alone. “We’ll be together again soon,” he vowed, closing the door on death one more time.

#reiner x reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun x y/n #reiner braun x you

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zodiyack · 4 years

Text

Under Stars

Requested by anon: Hi, my love! I have a request where Y/N take the bullets instead of John. Like, she put herself in front of him allowing him to kill those men. She sees herself alone, since Thomas is married, Arthur has Linda and everyone is kinda moving on with their lives. After discussions (which makes her fell alone and useless) , Y/N sacrifices herself for John and his happinness, saying before she dies something like "I want you all to be happy". Sorry if u already made something like that + (Addition to their request)

Pairing: Shelby Family & Gray Family + Shelby!reader (no romance)

Warnings: Death, angst, murder, mention of depression, sad soft stuffs

Note: TITLE IS INSPIRED BY AURORA’S “UNDER STARS” FOR THE MEANING OF THE SONG WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE K BYE I’M SORRY! Also; extra bit at the end, I added it cause the title, I hope it’s okie! I cried while writing this oml

Taglist: @matth1w @redspaceace

masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

“Got nothin’ better to do on Christmas morning?” John put down his gun when he realized it was only Michael.

“Tommy wants everybody at Charlie’s yard now, come on.” Michael gave a slight tilt of his head. Y/n creeped out next to John, hair messed up from her nieces’ and nephews’ game of climbing on their aunt human-sized-jungle gym the previous night. They sure were excited hear that their aunt would be staying for Christmas.

He turned, pushing his dog into the house and trying to close the door so they could get going. “Get in. Get in!” They walked around, “What’s going to happen? It’s fucking Christmas.”

“Look John, we don’t have time for this.”

“Alright, just come into the house.” Michael interrupted him, “Just come to the meeting-” but he continued like Michael never even spoke. “Have some food”

Esme rushed to the door, pushing John aside when he opened it, despite his “ey”s, and stomped over to Michael. She got extremely close to his face and angerly spat out her take on the situation, “Tell Tommy Shelby we can look after ourselves!”

However, Michael remained calm. “Tommy says they could come for us today, Esme-”

“’Tommy says’,” she turned to John and Y/n, repeating her mimic, “‘Tommy says’,” turning back to Michael, she released the same anger, “Are you his fucking parrot?!”

“Look, it’s the mafia! Alright? This is the New York mafia we’re talking about!”

“And we’re the Peaky fucking Blinders.” John stated, gun slung over his shoulder.

“No, we’re not, John! We’re not the Peaky fucking Blinders unless we’re together!”

Esme stepped closer to Michael, “You were together in the gallows, with one man missing.”

Michael took a second, then ignored Esme and returned to his calmed state. “John. John, come to the meeting. All right? Think about the kids.” John’s gaze began to move, as did his body when Esme turned to see his reaction, “Come to the meeting, and if you want to leave, then fine.”

“No. It’s Christmas day. We have a family now, we’re staying at home!” Esme shouted. Michael looked to Y/n with a pleading raise of his eyebrows. She closed her eyes and shook her head with shrug, there wasn’t much she could do to change Esme’s mind.

A man pushed over a hay bale, vaulting over it and readying his gun.

John, already facing the direction of the cart, did the same, cocking his gun and yelling to Esme and his sister. “In the fucking house!”

Michael lifted his head, noticing the man and cart. “Esme-” More men jumped out. Michael recognized the cart, which he had passed on the way here. The honking of his car’s horn as he rushed, a form of pleading for it to move out of his way.

John fired at them, hitting a hay bale but missing the men. “John!” Michael pushed Esme inside and tossed a gun to his cousin, who ran beside her brother in an attempt to help. She quickly realized her brother’s mistake in the choice of his gun. He was quick to shoot again, but the men were quick to shoot back, weapons faster than his shot gun.

Esme halted behind the door, glancing to the siblings with fear. No. It couldn’t be. It pained her just much as it would had it been the other Shelby. It wasn’t John, though he had been in the front, it was his sister. She pushed herself in front of her brother. Unknown to anyone but her, her mind flashed with thoughts of her family, of John’s family. Of Charlie and her other nieces and nephews. Of her mother.

The bullets hit her in repetition, over and over and over again. The bullets from the mafia continued hitting her stomach and chest leaving bloodied holes in her clothing and body. Time felt like it was moving in slow motion.

Y/n felt nothing but content. Peaceful. Free.

The violent scene resumed around her soon-to-be-lifeless body as she dropped to the ground. Michael was hit with a bullet, not enough to kill him, but grazing him just right, just enough, to make him drop to the ground as well, dragging John down with him.

A peaceful moment. Though she now lie hanging onto life as tight as she could, maybe just to say goodbye, she felt peaceful. A smile found it’s way onto her face, the shock and pain got to her, a dreamy look filled her eyes.

She could hear Esme’s painful screams, the agony and sorrow dripping from her throat. She felt John lift her head onto his lap and his tears drip onto her face. His face was red, nose snotty and eyes puffy as he cried for her to hold on. As he cried and told her that they’d find someone who could help. As he told her that they would kill the mafia for what they did to his sister.

“J-John.” She coughed up blood. Her head twitched slightly as John’s hand caressed her cheek, Esme and Michael now kneeling over her body as well. Y/n’s eyes scanned Michael’s wounds, to which he gave her a look. A look that read regret and possibly a message of “now’s not the time”.

“Take c-care of Esme and y-your kids. Tell them I-I love them. Tell all of our fam-family I l-love them.” She smiled up at his teary face, blood coating her teeth and spilling out of her mouth a bit. “I want you all to be happy.”

With that last sentence, her eyes stopped acknowledging their presences and flicked up to the sky. A final breath left her mouth and her head lolled limp on his lap. His thumb, still stroking her cheek, felt the warmth leave her body, slowly being replaced with a dreadfully-familiar cold. The cold of the dead.

His sister now lied dead in his lap, a smile still upon her face, no hint of regret anywhere. Esme clung to him once she processed Y/n’s passing. The way she shoved herself in front of her brother so carelessly, like she wanted it to happen. She thought of the way Y/n had been hesitant to join them or Tommy and Grace, or really any of the couples of the family, when they went places.

Before Y/n passed, when she was looking to the heavens, her mind showed her a sight. She stood before her mother, who was smiling and well in the afterlife. Y/n couldn’t think of anything else, but joining her. Her mother moved to the side, showing her more of what she could join in on.

She knew all three of the women in front of her. Grace talked with John’s dead wife, both of them smiling at Y/n and eagerly beckoning her over to them. Her mum slowly moved her hand, welcoming Y/n to the paradise.

So, she grabbed onto her mother’s extended hand and greeted her new company.

. . .

“Go fuck those bastards responsible!” Polly sobbed a yell at Tommy, returning to her place over Y/n’s body, brushing her hair from her face. Her lifeless body was brought to the family and chaos ensued.

Tommy grabbed handfuls of his hair and tugged while yelling until his face turned red upon the discovery of his dead sibling. Arthur threw items, flipped tables, and let the cries of agony escape him just as Tommy had. The rest of the family had pretty similar reactions, aside from Ada.

Her eyes were greeted with the sight of her sister, bloodied up and dead. Her hand darted to her mouth, tears spilled from her eyes, her legs moved to Y/n’s side before she could think of the action. Whimpers and small croaks of screams left her mouth muffled.

They knew one of them were likely to die at some point. They wouldn’t have handled that well either. But. Their sister? The kind and cheery one of the bunch. The one who hid her tough shield behind her forgiving smile? No one thought she’d be the first to leave the living.

Her depression was known, and her family helped her care for it, helped make her happy and let her know how much they loved her. They tried their hardest, and her thoughts of suicide were gifted to her in a disguise of murder. But why?

Why her?

“It should’ve been me...”

“Don’t say that John...she wanted you alive...”

“It should’ve though...” Pangs of guilt were sent straight to not just his heart, but his brothers’. His sister’s. His aunt’s. His wife’s. His cousin’s. They felt guilty for what had been done, the murder of Y/n was no one of the Peaky Blinder’s fault, but everyone still blamed themselves.

. . .

John and Esme cuddled into each other by the fire, no words being spoken, their hearts heavy and eyes watery. One of John’s children walked up to them, rubbing their puffy red eyes that matched their parents’ and tilting their head at their father.

“Are you crying cause you miss Auntie? Don’t worry, she’s just sleeping. Under those stars outside my window. She’s.. she has only fallen asleep.”

“What?”

“Auntie. She’s only fallen asleep. And when God says it’s time, he’ll wake her up.” The little boy climbed onto the sofa. “I hope she’s dreaming of me. What about you, mummy?”

Esme’s mouth had dropped in shock from the sentence. “I-I- uh yeah... I do too, my love. I think she’s dreaming of you, for sure. I- I think she’s dreaming of you, me, daddy, all of us.”

“I hope she has a good sleep. Speaking of sleep, can you tuck me in? Aunt Y/n did it a special way...I miss it when she tucked me in.” John and Esme’s hearts ached at the sight of their child, eyebrows scrunched in thought before he jumped up and his face filled with joy. “Maybe when she wakes up she can tuck me in again!”

“Of course sweetie...” Esme’s voice cracked with sadness laced through her words and smile. “Time for bed, dearest... Wanna show mummy and daddy how Auntie used to tuck you in?”

The boy beamed with happiness, nodding eagerly at the idea. “Mhm!” He grabbed his parent’s arms and pulled them into his room, telling them instructions. After he finished, they sat on his bed with him, their tears breaking free at his final sentences before he kissed them goodnight;

“Goodnight Y/n! I hope you wake up soon, we miss you! Sleep well and dream good dreams of me under those stars of yours!”

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orangegreet · 3 years

Text

Photo by Florian Olivo on Unsplash

The morning of the twin’s birthday, Alina woke from a fitful sleep.

Strange dreams colored her feelings and her ears rang with the sounds of a dark chanting verse that had haunted her thoughts and that she could not place.

Dreams aside, the incident in the study, too, left unresolved emotions which clung to her insides like sludge and would not go away.

Her mind reminded her again and again of that feeling of being pressed into the door by Lord Kirigan’s body.

The hard plane of his chest crushing her soft breasts. The heat of his breaths on her skin. His lungs pushing out, hers falling in.

The raw desire that blazed to life when she thought he was going to kiss her. The crashing humiliation after.

She should be disgusted.

Clearly, he had been so, given the way he threw her from the room and slammed the door. Left alone and without a candle to find her way back to her room.

Desperately, she searched for that anger toward him that she had been diligently collecting and storing for weeks on end. Holding it inside of her like a talisman against his pull, against the thrall he had on her.

By the time she had washed and dressed for the day, Alina found herself right side up again.

Completely prepared to go to his study and drag him to the party regardless of the state of their professional relationship.

********

Genya and Marie were finished setting the garden together, ready to receive the guests while Nadia and Tamar ran the food from the kitchen.

Alina exited the garden to go take a rest in the house before the party when she caught sight of a little white blur at the edge of the woods.

Lillian.

The little girl looked at her and then ran into the woods and out of sight.

Alina gathered her skirts in her hands and gave chase, “Lillian! Please slow down!”

Though she had not explored the woods much in her time at Blyth Fell, having been preoccupied with the garden in the first couple weeks and then quite busy with the children since, Alina was certain it would not be a completely safe place for a seven-year-old to venture into alone.

The white pinafore dress stood out against the shadowed woods and Alina just barely kept the girl in her line of sight even though she was losing her speed.

By the time she caught up, she found Lillian stopped in a small clearing, looking over her shoulder at Alina.

The governess approached slowly, hands aloft to say, ‘I come in peace’. Lillian turned away.

She was standing in front of a little stone block. Grass seed grew up close to it and Alina looked at Lillian and then sank to her knees, guessing what this was in an instance.

She brushed the weeds down, snapping them and breaking them away so the writing on the stone was legible.

LUDA ZENIK KIRIGAN

BELOVED WIFE & MOTHER

CHERISHED SISTER & FRIEND

The birthdate was some twenty years prior to the death date which was…today’s date, just seven years ago.

Alina stared at the words, moving slowly out of the way so Lillian could sit in front of the cleared space.

They sat in silence for a very long time.

So long that Alina wondered how close they were to the start of the party. Still, she waited for Lillian to say something first.

“My Aunt Nina said I look like her…that I have her eyes,” Lillian said eventually.

“Uncle Fedyor says she was very sweet so…” Lillian trailed away, wiping her nose on her sleeve and then sitting up straight again, “So I think Georgie must have gotten that part of her.”

Alina would have laughed if she did not feel so sorrowful in this moment.

The idea that the traits of your parents were doled out to the children like pieces of pie—that the total is finite—it was so child-like to believe that broke her heart to hear it.

“I am not so sweet,” Lillian said finally, scrunching her face and pulling up a blade of grass. “I am not like her really so I must be like him,” she said with disdain, “and that is why mother died. I am bad like him.”

Alina was careful not to refute the child outright, it would not be helpful. She was careful to make sure she understood. Instead she asked, “Why do you think she died?”

Lillian turned her gaze upon the governess, wide blue eyes shining and wet, “Georgie was born first and then me. She died because I was all tangled up in her belly.”

“And you think because you were born second, you caused her to die?” Alina asked.

Lillian nodded.

It was easy to forget sometimes that children had a higher threshold for morbidity. Much higher than adults. The way they could simplify life and death and boil it down into ‘if and then’ statements was shocking each time.

“I understand why you might think that, Lillian. I was not there when you were born but I do know now I am older that it is not babies who kill their mother’s in childbirth. It is just something that happens sometimes. It is not anyone’s fault.”

Lillian scrunched her face further and Alina continued, “You do not have to believe me right now but I do hope you will listen when I say, I know what it feels like to be without a mother. It is lonely and scary.” Alina stared at the headstone. “I wished to be held all the time when I was your age.”

Lillian glared at the ground, tears falling silent into the grass. A shuddering breath extracted from her mouth every few moments.

“You are not alone.” She finished.

Lillian wiped her nose on her sleeve again. Alina did not feel invited to touch the girl and so she waited.

Neither of them spoke for a few more minutes and then the little girl got to her feet.

“I-I am ready to go to the party now.” She left without a backward glance but Alina felt that something in their relationship had been resolved at last. Alina followed close behind her.

********

Despite the interlude in the woods and the tearful admissions, Lillian and George thoroughly enjoyed the festivities planned.

The joy and excitement from each of the attendees was contagious and each person had planned a special game or activity for the group.

Nadia and Tamar had made several special cakes with surprises inside. Something stuffed and hidden in each one as a little game.

Maxim coaxed Ivan into a race wherein the children were lifted onto their respective shoulders as each man raced across the yard.

Ivan won with a mad-cackling Lillian gripping his ears and spurring him forward like a tyrant. He looked more thrilled than she had ever seen him.

Alexei, Marie and Sergei had put their heads together to come up with the best parlor games and refused out right to play anything which had previously been deemed ‘boring’ by either of the twins.

This, Alina gathered, alluded to a game of charades played last winter which contained several references that went promptly over the children’s heads but which had the adults roaring in laughter. The twins had spent the hour bored and unamused and declared they would never play the game again.

Genya and Alina had gone into town and picked up a special gift for each child.

A skipping rope with wooden handles carved in delicate patterns and a kaleidoscope with colored glass beads inside. Alina had not yet been paid but Genya assured her this money was directly from the Lord himself since, to their knowledge at the time, he would not be in attendance.

It was unusual, to be sure, to see servants show such happiness and care for the children of the household but then, looking around, Alina realized that of all the people gathered here, one glaring fact seemed to be shared—none of them had homes or families to go back to anymore.

At least, not to her knowledge. A great many of them had confirmed their status in the world noting that either war or the cholera outbreak or simply poor living standards had left each of them quite alone in the world before coming to Blyth Fell.

It was a grim truth but one which seemed to bind them all here now.

Alina wondered idly how it was that they all happened to find employment here. It pressed on the definition of coincidental.

The only person conspicuously absent, aside from the Lord himself, was Misha.

Alina asked Alexei about this while the others were tasting cakes and he wrinkled his brow and looked away from her. “He had a rather, er…difficult evening. His duties sometimes are more challenging than…well he will be around for dinner tonight, I expect.”

Alexei patted her arm and walked away, inviting no further discussion on the matter.

********

As the hour passed and Lord Kirigan had not made his appearance, Alina contemplated the very real possibility that she would have to corner him in his study and frog march him into the garden.

She wondered briefly to feel bad about accosting the Lord last night now she knew today marked the anniversary of his wife’s death.

But then, the memory of Lillian’s tearful face as she stared at her mothers headstone and George’s pained tone when he inquired for weeks whether his father would return for his birthday, reinvigorated her.

And so, just as they slipped a blindfold over Lillian’s eyes for her turn in Blindman’s Bluff, Alina resigned herself to her duty and slipped away to collect their father.

She made it halfway across the yard when she saw him.

Lord Kirigan appeared around the broadside corner of the house, walking toward the garden and fumbling with an oddly shaped box in his arms.

Alina warmed at the sight of him and promptly blamed it on the sun which was currently hidden in the overcast sky.

She was, however, pleased to see that he looked very nervous. At least this indicated some amount of care and concern for the children.

“Where are you going?” The Lord asked, sharply. “Is the party no longer in the garden?”

Alina straightened her posture, “Of course it is. I was simply heading inside to…fetch a few extra napkins—”

The box in hands emitted a strange noise and she thought for a moment she saw it tipping in his hand.

He grabbed a strong hold on it and called back, “Come along then, Miss Starkova. Some gifts do not keep well and we do not want this day to spoiled by another ill omen.”

His words relieved her lingering tension. He meant to act as if last night had not happened at all and Alina was content with this decision.

She turned in the opposite direction and led the way into the garden, her excuse with the napkins well forgotten until she was already back inside the walls.

The shock at the sudden appearance of Lord Kirigan was written on the faces of everyone in the garden caused a laugh to bubble up her throat.

The Lord glared at her and then turned back to the children.

George was beside himself at his father’s presence, hugging him then standing on the table to press the kaleidoscope over his father’s eye and twist it for him.

Lillian looked neither pleased nor dismayed. The vulnerability she had displayed this morning lingered around her and she simply accepted his presence without many words or interaction to follow. Reserving her judgement for later.

As the children opened the box from their father and exclaimed over the little orange kitten inside, Alina wondered later if the ‘ill omen’ to which Lord Kirigan had referred was an allusion to the anniversary of his wife’s passing or if it was a reference to that dead pet of hers, the pony in the bog.

Alas she would not be able to ask him with the excitement and horror of what would follow later that day.

********

The party itself was very successful and though Lord Kirigan did not participate in any of the games but rather took a seat next to Ivan, he did help himself to a few cakes left near his reach.

Alina watched him with covert eyes and relished the image of icing on the corner of his surly mouth. An image which she could save up for some inevitable moment in the future when he would try to intimidate her again.

The break in the games was welcome as the kitten was passed around to be cuddled.

Maxim disappeared to the stables and reappeared with a long piece of leather and brutally removed an aster bloom to attach to the end. He handed it to Lillian who dragged it around for the kitten, urging it to pounce.

Alina lingered near Genya as they watched when a shouting occurred from the door to the garden.

“It’s ready now and today is the perfect day to try and so if you could all gather in a line, we can put it to the test!”

Alina turned toward the newest party attendee.

A young man with dark hair holding a large box and setting up what looked like a three legged stool.

Looking around, Alina was not the only one confused but the others, at least, recognized the man and began to laugh. Genya was flushed as she pulled on Alina’s arm and directed her to stand near the end of the group.

“Genya, what is going on?” Genya looked distracted and did not seem to hear Alina. It was Nadia who answered.

“That is our Mr. Kostyk. He is a business partner of Lord Kirigan’s. He does actually live under this roof with us but I suppose this might be the first time you have seen him in person.”

Something clicked into place and Alina nodded. The man in the workroom who received his meals hand-delivered by the grace of Genya.

“And what is happening now?” Alina asked. Genya moved along the line, arranging people into view and pulling the children to stand in front of their father.

The kitten did not seem to want to still in their hands so it was shoved into Ivan’s arms who accepted it with a grunt.

Nadia smiled at the sight of Ivan and answered, “It seems Mr. Kostyk has engineered yet another device to try to get a portrait taken.”

“A portrait?” Alina asked as Mr. Kostyk was setting his box on top of the three-legged stand and hiding beneath a heavy black curtain behind the box.

“It’s something of a family business for Lord Kirigan,” Nadia explained. “The late Lord Kirigan and his business partner also worked on the inventions and would also have the people in the house to test out his progress. Or so I hear.”

She arranged the hair around her shoulders, “Although Genya says some of those models required sitting for thirty minutes at a time so I can only hope Mr. Kostyk does not expect that right now.”

“Look this way,” Mr. Kostyk pointed at the black circle in the middle of his box, “and do not move, if you please!”

They stood still for a few minutes, long enough that the children began to shift their feet in boredom.

Ivan held the cat in place and Alina, on the other end let her mind wander as she contemplated this inventor from the workroom and his patron, Lord Kirigan. She had seen examples of these paint-less portraits in London, of course, but never imagined she would be the subject of one.

When Mr. Kostyk was done, he stood and smiled at them all, not really seeing them and said goodbye with a short wave. Then he was gone as quickly as he had come. Alina giggled and wondered if he had been there at all.

Lord Kirigan watched Mr. Kostyk’s retreating back and then followed the man out of the garden, effectively leaving the party as well.

Alina frowned and glanced at the children. Lillian took the blow stoically and went back to her cake. George looked distressed once more but Ivan plopped the kitten in front of him in the next moment and he was well distracted.

********

When the party was over, Alina gathered the children to go inside for a rest. As they passed the edge of the woods again, however, Lillian spoke.

“I want to go back to my mother.” She said.

George hesitated and Alina surveyed him. “All right, let us take George inside and then you and I can go back out.”

“No.”

Lillian looked at George and took his hand, “Let us go, Georgie, please. I want to go with you.” George looked fearful but nodded.

It was hard to explain the distinct feeling of foreboding Alina felt upon entering the woods now.

It was still as dark and shadowed as it had been in the morning but now there was something in the air which was disquieting. Alina wrapped her hands on either of the children’s shoulders as they walked the same path toward that small clearing.

They had been walking for a few minutes when George stopped again, shaking his head and looking at his sister. “Lillian, I don’t want to go.”

Lillian scowled at him, tugging on his arm, “You have to, you have to come see mother, with me. Please, Georgie. Just once.”

George was shaking his head and staring past the thinning trees, fear widening his eyes.

They were in sight of the little clearing now and even through the trees, Alina looked to where she knew the gravestone sat.

Only the place where she knew the stone sat, the place where she herself sat just this morning, was covered in dark shadow.

Alina squinted, trying to discern what she was seeing and she stared, the black mass thickened.

It grew and spread like a dense, black smoke, covering half the clearing like a slow-moving predator.

A frisson of fear shot through her body and inexplicably she thought of the chanting from her dreams and more words bubbled into her throat and she prayed to Alatyr with a fierce concentration.

While she was distracted George took off on the path back toward the house.

“George, wait!” Alina called, pausing only to take Lillian’s hand in hers as they ran after the little dark-haired boy.

“George, wait for us!” Lillian shouted, sounding fearful herself.

He turned a corner and slipped from their sight and Alina panicked at the realization that he was taking a different path. One that did not lead them back to the house.

“George, stop! You are going the wrong way!”

They followed, turning the corner and he came into sight yards ahead. He stood stock-still.

“Georgie?”

His hands were up in front of him and as they drew closer, Alina saw a thick black mass rising before the boy’s body like a snake from a basket.

Was it a snake?

The woods were so dark, it was difficult to see for sure but Alina thought it’s shape was distinctly snake-like.

“Stay still, George.” Alina cautioned. She held Lillian in place with a sharp look and began to slowly approach the quivering little boy.

She was not sure what to do. Did not understand what she was seeing. Not exactly.

The snake rose up to eye level with George.

It reared back.

The boy threw his arm over his face and the snake struck with a whip-like movement.

“George!” Alina yelled, running forward to grab his shoulders as he screamed out.

It echoed around the forest and bounced off the trees and Alina held him in her lap as he continued to scream and cradle his arm.

Frantic, Alina looked around for the creature and saw nothing but dead leaves crushed on the forest floor. Everything was still and silent save the screaming from the boy in her lap.

“Let me see, Georgie,” she soothed, trying to move his hand to get a look at his arm.

George whimpered and cried and Alina gaped at the mark.

Two little puncture wounds on his pale little forearm, seeping black liquid like ink running down a page.

#the darkling #darklina server #darklina fic #darklina fanfic #darklina #aleksander morozova #alina starkov #alina x aleksander #grishaverse #the grisha trilogy #eventual hea #haunting #spirits #October Horror #shadow and bone fic #shadow & bone #shadow and bone #mutual pining

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lykegenia · 3 years

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The Dragon Knight’s New Clothes

The speed with which Davion left Hauptstadt left him no time to pick up clothes, so now he's back to square one and very much missing enough layers to cover up his... secrets. When he and his companions stumble on a farmstead his prayers seem answered, but there's also the other matter, the reason why he had to flee Hauptstadt in the first place, and the fear that it will happen again. Set between Episodes 2 & 3.

Hints of Davion x Mirana

Read on AO3

Normally, Davion is perfectly fine with silence in his travelling companions. The life of a dragon knight requires long hours on the road, not all of which can be filled with talk, even on the days where there’s no hunt to keep the quiet. But normality seems to have taken its butterfly wings elsewhere for him lately, and the current silence is getting awkward. It’s just him and Mirana. Marci took Sagan scouting shortly after sunrise and left them alone together, and while she seems content with their current situation, she’s also the only one between them wearing clothes. She doesn’t have to worry about the strength of errant breezes finding their way to places, and she has the weight of a weapon at her side as insurance against any trouble they might run into. Her feet aren’t slipping around sockless and blistered in too-large boots taken off a dead man.

A man he tore to pieces.

He swallows, glances to his companion to take his mind off the remembered taste of blood in his mouth. Her shoulders are loose, her gaze soft and hair flowing where the wind lifts it back from her face, the unassuming brown sparking copper in the dappled sunlight. He swallows again.

“Soooooo…”

“Is there a problem?” she asks, slowing a little. A quizzical knot appears between her brows and he raises his hands in surrender.

“No problem!” he says. “It’s just… you’re quiet.”

“I was enjoying the peace.” If there’s a note of annoyance for his interruption it flashes too quickly for him to catch it.

“You must not get much chance to just stop and smell the flowers,” he supposes, after a moment. “Being a princess and everything.”

“There are always little things, if you let yourself look for them – but you’re right that my duties rarely allowed for anything more.”

Allowed. Past tense.

“You never snuck away to try something more fun?” He grins, and when she only quirks a brow at him he clears his throat. “No, never mind, I think I know the answer to that… I’m sure Marci will be back soon.”

She throws him a smirk. “Are you worried about her?”

“Actually,” he says, letting his thoughts tease out, “I’ve been wondering about you two.”

“What about us?” The smirk draws in, a warning that seems to dim the sunlight itself.

He shrugs. “She takes your orders, but you don’t exactly treat her like a servant or a squire, and you have that –” he waggles his fingers experimentally – “hand language. You must have known her a long time.”

She turns away from him, her eyes going to a bird cleaning its beak on the branches above them as her arms fold in a loose cross over her chest.

“We came to the Nightsilver Woods together, if that’s what you’re asking,” she says. “We were already companions before then.”

“Just the two of you?”

Something in the memory pains her. “There was no one else left.”

“What about Sagan?” he asks.

“A gift from my goddess, so that I might do Her work.” The smile comes back, and he’s glad for it. “He was adorable as a cub – so fluffy. He used to chase the reflections from my arrowheads.”

“I never had a pet,” he confesses, without quite meaning to. A memory of a mongrel begging at the back door for scraps threatens to pull him in, but it was a long time ago and his mind can’t conjure the dog’s appearance. It probably ended up like the rest of his village, anyway.

Mirana’s eyes find his face, too perceptive, too understanding. Before he can think of a new subject to distract her, he notices the birds have all gone silent. The undergrowth rustles nearby, concealing something huge. He darts forward, fists ready in place of a weapon, but an instant later he catches a flash of white and relaxes in recognition at the wide, blunt head that pushes out from among the trees.

“Sagan!” Mirana ducks forward, arms outstretched, and the tiger butts her in the shoulder, purring like an avalanche as Marci slides down his back.

A brief conversation follows in the silent language the two women use between themselves, the signs made by their hands too fast for Davion to follow. He waits patiently, even dares to give Sagan a scratch under the chin, his fingers inches from the mouth full of sabre teeth the length of his hand.

Finally, Mirana turns to him. “There’s a farmstead about five miles west of here. If we’re welcomed it would be a good place to get some rest.” She throws a casual look over him and he resists the urge to tug the too-small cloak further around his body. “Perhaps we might also find you some better clothes.”

“I’d like that.” What he likes less is her singular ability to make him aware of his body – and not in the fun way.

She starts to lead off down the path but stops, sighs, her fingers going to pinch between her brows in an attitude of long-suffering patience.

“Ride Sagan,” she says. Orders, really. “It’ll save your feet.”

He can’t help but lean closer, grinning. “That’s surprisingly nice of you, princess.”

“And it’ll stop you slowing us down.”

He chuckles at that. Even in the few days they’ve spent travelling together he’s learned the difference between her wry mock threats and the times she truly intends to bite. As he winces over to tiger and vaults into the saddle, he almost misses the look exchanged between his two companions.

“How do I, uh, steer?” he asks. The neck in front of him is too short, the shoulders much broader than those of a horse, and there aren’t any reins.

Mirana smirks at him. “You don’t.”

They reach the farmstead as the sun is on its last descent towards the distant hills. Barley stalks sway gently under the wind as they climb the path to the house, and when a young teen tending vegetables by the back door spots them, Davion can hardly blame them for dropping their rake and running inside. The three of them don’t exactly make for an ordinary bunch of travellers, especially not with Sagan padding along behind them. There’s a stag slung over the saddle, intended as a sort of offering by Mirana, who took it down with one of her arrows before he even knew it was there. While most would follow the custom of hospitality without such a gift, they have only a few coins from the bandits he killed, and they need more than just shelter for the night.

“Better let me do the talking,” he mutters as they pass into the yard. It’s not the first time he’s had to explain to some poor local that he’s not a marauding thug, and that was without the daunting presence of the war tiger at his back.

For a moment, Mirana considers, but nods and hangs back, passing a hand over her holstered bow as if to reassure herself it’s still there. With another self-conscious tug on his attire to make sure his decency is covered, he advances towards the farmhouse’s front door and as he passes a soft fragrance of thyme and lavender rises from pots placed beneath the windows, though it’s too early in the year for the buzzing of bees. A memory tickles at the back of his mind but he pushes it away before the herby scent can be tainted with ash, and in the instant it takes to centre himself the door swings open to a tall, broad woman with steel-grey hair and an iron brow who steps out just far enough to not appear suspicious.

“You’re an uncommon bunch, right enough,” she comments, her face half shadowed by the overhanging thatch. “What business have you?”

Davion offers her his most winning smile. “We’re travelling from Hauptstadt. If you have enough spare for a hot meal and room in your barn for the night, we’d appreciate it.” He gestures to his companions. “My friend here managed to take down a deer, and we’ll happily share it with you.”

“Half of it,” Mirana corrects, with a hand on her tiger’s shoulder. “And the hide. Sagan needs to eat too.”

The farmer passes a calculating look over them, lingering longest on Davion and the scars so clearly visible across his shoulders, but in the end he guesses their fearsome appearance works in their favour. Their would-be host shrugs. If such travellers wanted to pillage and burn, they’d have no need for subterfuge first.

“We’re always happy to have well-mannered guests, especially ones with news of the road,” she says. “At this time of year the stock is out so your cat will be fine in the barn. Just keep him away from the back field, I’ve ewes ready to drop and they don’t a need a fright to help them along.”

Mirana nods. “Thank you. Is there somewhere we can put the deer?”

If the farmer is surprised by Marci’s strength as she hauls the carcass off Sagan’s back, she doesn’t show it, only points to the gate set into the far wall to show the way to the outbuildings. “And you always dress like that, do you?” she asks a moment later, still eyeing Davion.

He glances down at himself as if it’s going to suddenly change the nature of his attire, but the princess answers before he can open his mouth.

“There was trouble with bandits.”

“Only for your friend here?” The farmer’s eyes narrow.

“We met on the road,” she says smoothly. “If you have some spare clothes, my companion would appreciate the return of her cloak.”

The farmer accepts the half-truth with a solemn shake of her head. “Some of my late husband’s things should fit you, though he never kept quite so trim as you seem to be.”

She beckons them into the house. Davion follows, ducking under the lintel to avoid knocking his head, but pauses when he realises Mirana isn’t behind him.

“I’m going to bed Sagan down,” she tells him. “I’ll join you shortly.”

He smiles, nodding, and resists the urge to reach for her as she turns away. Inside, the whitewashed walls split the house into two, a kitchen with a large, scrubbed table in the back, and a parlour of sorts with a gathering of chairs around a large fireplace that overlooks the garden. An old woman snores in the armchair closest to the window, but she doesn’t stir at the prospect of visitors, even though the stairs leading off this main room creak under Davion’s weight, the wood worn to a polish by generations of use.

“Tayran,” his host calls out as a young woman appears from one of the upper rooms, “go help your brother with the veggies, will you? We’ve three more mouth to feed tonight.”

Tayran, a few years younger than Davion and sporting the same square jaw and brown eyes as her mother, nods and ducks along the hallway, but not before she’s let her gaze rake along the expanse of his muscles not covered by Marci’s cloak. The smile he offers in return is friendly enough, but not encouraging. He needs the clothes more than he needs someone to take them off again.

Seemingly oblivious to the exchange, his host has gone on ahead to the main bedroom and has taken a key to a heavily locked chest in the corner by the washstand. She digs through it, muttering, though he notices she never quite fully turns her back to him, and after a moment she stands again, with a shirt, breeches, and quilted jerkin draped over her arm. After a pause where she casts a critical eye at his boots, she stumps over to a dresser and pulls a rolled pair of wool socks from one of the drawers as well.

“These are the best I can do,” she says, handing the ensemble to him. “Afraid we’ve no salve for those badly fitting boots of yours, though.”

“It’s no problem,” he replies. “I really can’t thank you enough.”

She huffs. “You can pay it forward. That’s what decent folk do. I’d best go see if yon slip of a girl has managed to get any meat off that stag yet – there’s plenty of room to change in the barn,” she adds, as she chivvies him from the room.

Dinner a few hours later is a crowded affair, the family’s meagre supply of chairs not enough to accommodate their guests, which means Davion’s legs are folded awkwardly around the tree stump serving him as a stool, his knees already bruised from all their accidental knocks to the underside of the table. The dim light for their meal comes from the fire and from a storm lantern hanging in the rafters in the centre of the room, and in the darkness beyond this the house groans and creaks as it settles for the night. After the disdain Mirana showed for the inn in Hauptstadt he wondered how she would react to such simple surroundings, but she nods graciously as their host ladles her a portion of stew and doesn’t complain that it’s being served with a wooden spoon. Marci is already tucking into hers as if she hasn’t eaten for days.

He smiles down at his bowl. The stew itself tastes good, the venison paired well with bacon and fresh vegetables, and it’s so thick the slice of bread he’s been given can be planted into it like a battle standard. Their host seems satisfied with their enthusiasm for her food, too. She has yet to sit down, her own portion left off as she pours a clear liquid into a motley collection of cups.

“Don’t knock this back,” she warns as she passes the drinks around. “It’ll beat you round the head like a club and go through your pockets for loose change.”

Davion can’t resist. He makes a great show of tasting the liquor. “A fine vintage, ma’am. Comparable to an Icewrack white, I’d say.”

Opposite him, Mirana narrows her eyes, like she wants to kick him under the table.

“My, you’ve expensive tastes,” their host rumbles. “You won’t find anything half so fancy in these parts.”

“Oh? Shame.”

“Where have you been that serves Icewrack white?” the elder asks from the head of the table. It’s the first Davion’s heard her speak, and her voice is cracked with age and suspicion.

“Oh, a few places,” he answers, careful. “I’ve spent most of my life travelling.”

“You must have many stories,” says Tayran, leaning forward on her elbows while her younger brother rolls his eyes next to her.

“Some, I suppose.” Davion shrugs. “My – uh, I had a friend who was much better than telling them.” He can’t mention having a squire; it would invite too many questions.

The elder seems content with him, but then her eye swivels towards Mirana. “What about you?”

“Mama,” their host chides. “We don’t interrogate our guests.”

Mirana sets down her wooden spoon. “It’s alright. We came from further west, on business.”

“Wrong time o’ year to be travelling the high passes.”

“My business could not wait,” she replies. Not for the first time, he wonders what calamity must have drawn her from her woods, put the grit in her voice as she speaks of it.

“And what about you?” Tayran asks him. Her eyelashes flutter. “If you’re looking for work you’d be far more likely to find it back in Hauptstadt, or on one of the farms in the valley.”

He disarms her with a grin. “And leave my companions without a defender? My honour wouldn’t allow it.” He shrugs elaborately. “I’ve got some friends near Levinthal who should be able to help me after I go that way.”

“More people who owe you favours?” Mirana asks, casually enough, though it’s clear she hasn’t forgiven him for the cockroaches that came included with the last one.

“It’s likely just as well you travel together,” their host interrupts. “There’s rumours of some sort of monster roving about these hills. Someone found bodies ripped apart not a week’s journey from here, and whatever it was killed a dragon knight an’ all. Dangerous times, these.”

The chill that grips Davion’s spine doesn’t go away, nor the knot in his stomach that feels like another gang leader’s ring just waiting to be hocked up onto the table. Mirana and Marci both have stilled to watch him, but he doesn’t meet their gazes. Instead, he draws in a breath and stretches his best tavern-pleasing smile across his revulsion.

“Thanks for the warning,” he says. “We’ll be extra careful.”

The conversation moves on after that, well into the night. On isolated farms like this one, travellers may bring the only news of the outside world for weeks, and new stories of far off places are always welcome. Finally, drowsing under the effect of the wine and the full meal and with the supply of fire logs running low, Mirana rises to make their excuses for the night. They have an early start in the morning, and don’t want to trespass any further, she says. Davion follows.

In the doorway, however, an unexpected hand reaches out in a caress across his chest that stops him before he can make it out into the cold. His breath fogs as he turns, finding Tayran in the shadowed alcove where the family keeps their coats, the smile on her face one he’s seen on more than one young woman on his travels.

“It’ll be cold tonight, you know,” she purrs.

From the corner of his eye he sees Mirana pause at the sound of the voice, but when he turns fully she’s already resumed her pace, perfectly measured, her shoulders straight, and he wonders if he imagined it. Tayran’s hand moves up to cup his cheek, to bring his attention back to her.

“If you want a better offer than a draughty old barn, I’d be happy to oblige. If you’re not already spoken for, that is?”

“You mean with –?” He coughs. “No, I’m not. We’re not, ah – like that.”

She steps closer. “Good. Would you like to hear more about my offer?”

When he lets himself into the barn a little time later, bright moonlight spills around him, though his eyes take less time to adjust to the unlit interior than he expects. An oil lamp glows in the far corner.

“Your ‘better offer’ fell through then?” a voice chimes through the darkness, low with disdain.

He finds Mirana with Sagan’s head in her lap, running a soft brush over the tiger’s fur, her scowl and the sour curl of her mouth revealing the nature of whatever else she wants to say. She doesn’t look at him. His own anger rises in response.

“I didn’t take the offer,” he snaps, quiet enough not to disturb Marci. “Not that you have any reason to care.”

“I didn’t want to waste time looking for you in the morning.”

But the gaze fixed on him now flickers with calculation, the same astuteness she turned on him after he let the elf go, as if he’s a puzzle box with no clear solution.

“She was a pretty enough thing,” she comments as he unfolds a horse rug over the straw as a makeshift bedsheet. “Many men would have gone after her.”

“Yeah, well – I’ve said it before.” He throws his head down on his folded arm. “I’m not most men.”

Now more than ever, he thinks ruefully as silence descends again. If he were the sort of person who believed the gods cared at all he’d wonder if they turned him into… whatever he is… as a punishment for hubris. For a little harmless flirting. He yanks the blanket up to his chin and rolls over – he’s slept in less comfortable places, but that doesn’t make the cold, prickly ground any less frustrating. A bed would have been much better. A bed with a bit of fun thrown in, for the both of them, and yet he chose to leave, and he’s going to go mad trying to work out why.

“You’re afraid,” Mirana says into the quiet. “Worried that what happened at Hauptstadt – what you became – that it’ll happen again.”

After a long moment, he unclenches his hand and sighs. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“For what good it will do, I can watch over you, if you like.”

He shifts. The offer feels unfamiliar. A dragon knight is sworn to protect others, and though the rational part of him knows if he does turn she’ll be dead before she realises it, there’s a warm glow of comfort from the assurance in her voice. She asks nothing of him, only honesty.

“If the transformation happens…”

“I’ll shoot you.” He hears the smirk.

“Thank you.” He squeezes his eyes shut, willing away the images his mind conjures, her blood on his hands, and prays to whichever gods are listening that if the worst comes her draw will be fast enough.

#dota dragon's blood #dota: dragon's blood #dota: db #dota 2 #mirana #princess mirana #davion #davion the dragon knight #davion x mirana #mirana x davion #miravion #dragon's blood

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milazka · 4 years

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𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐭 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑓𝑜��𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟏.𝟔𝐤

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : @𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐱𝟗𝟔 « 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐚 𝐣𝐣 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐣𝐣 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫/𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐣 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞? 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ! »

𝐚/𝐧 : 𝐢 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩. 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐢 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞. 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭... 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞!

─── °• ❀ ───

Sitting on Kiara's bed, you smile when you see her come out of the bathroom. Dressed in a purple satin dress, her hair pulled up into a bun decorated with a flower crown; she is simply stunning.

“Wow, you look amazing Kie!” You compliment her when she turns on herself.

“Thank Y/n, you’re gorgeous too!” She says, pointing your outfit.

You are wearing a flamboyant short red dress with an open back that highlight your tanned skin. Despite your parents' disagreement, you have matched your low black converses to your outfit rather than a pair of high heels. Your hair is styled in half a bun and you’re only wearing mascara.

“I hate this thing, it’s so not us.” She sighs, sitting on the bed beside you.

“I know, Kie. That’s the bad side of having kooks as parents.” You say to her, resting your head on her shoulder.

Your parents are part of the rich class, the kooks, your father being Ward Cameron's brother. You never adhered to this way of life and it has always created differences between you and your father. Luckily, you met Kie trough your cousin Sarah. Kiera became your best friend and you two spend all your time with the boys, living your life Pogue style.

“Kiara, Y/n! C’mon, we’re leaving!” Yells Kiara’s mother from downstairs.

“We’re coming!” Kie yells back.

“Let the torture begin.” You whispers, making her laugh.

***

The back yard is packed with wealthy family members, enjoying appetizers or sipping a glass of champagne. After having discreetly wedged a glass of straight vodka, you head towards Pope who takes care of rinsing the oysters.

“What do we have here? A pogue? Dégoutant!” You say with a bad french accent behind his back, a mocking smile on your lips.

“Do we have to shuck these ourselves?” Kiara adds with a fake English accent. “Cause it might mess up our costumes.”

Pope turns and laughs when he sees you both. You do your handshake and stand next to him, watching the kooks' extravagant costumes.

“We’re in the lion’s den.” Kiara sigh, watching Topper and his pocket dog Kelce.

“You couldn't say better.” You say in a low voice.

“Hey Y/n… Have you heard from JJ?” Pope hesitantly asks you.

Right. In addition of having to attend a party that you hate, you had to watch your boyfriend take the blame for Pope this afternoon without being able to do anything.

“No and it’s driving me crazy.” You reply, biting your bottom lip.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be alright. You know he’s got the survival instincts of a cockroach.” Kie reassures you, running her hand over your arm.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. It’s all my fault.” Pope says, guilt taking places on his face.

“You didn’t do it. He made the decision by himself.” You smile to Pope. “He did it for your good.”

“And Topper almost killed you. Remember?” Kie says.

Your discussion is interrupted by thunderous applause. You look up, seeing your uncle come in with your cousins. You meet the gaze of your father who makes you big eyes, beckoning you to join him.

“I have to go; duty calls me.” You sigh, pretending to throw up. “I’ll see you later.”

***

The garden is lit by hundreds of small lights since the sun went down. You wince when you see what time it is; you've been standing next to your father, who is so proud to introduce you to the new members of the club, for over an hour. On several occasions he tried to convince you to chat with rich young men in the hope of finding you "a future decent pretender". Your father does not accept that you are in a relationship with JJ, and he makes sure to let you know.

“So, Y/n, you look stunning tonight.” Kelce compliments you, standing in front of you. “Your dad said you wanted to talk to me.”

You stop walking suddenly since he blocks your path.

“Don't even think for a minute that I'm interested in you.” You warn him. “I never said that; my father made it all up.”

“Maybe you're not into me, but that doesn't mean we can't have fun.” He tells you in a voice full of innuendo, moving closer to you.

“No, thanks. Plus, I have a boyfriend.” You reply, pushing him gently with your hands to pass.

As soon as you take a step, a hand grips your wrist firmly and pulls you into the bathroom. Kelce pushes you against the wall without letting go of your wrists, making you squeak in pain.

“Get off of me!” You shout, trying to push him away but he’s way stronger than you.

One of his hands slides down your back and grabs your butt. You try to free yourself from his grip by squirming, a tear runs down your cheek. When he is about to unzip your jumpsuit, the door suddenly opens. Two boys grabbing each other by the collar enter. One is about to punch the other, but they immediately stop when they hear your screams.

“Hey JJ, looks like your girlfriend is having a good time with my best friend.” Your cousin Rafe says, an arrogant smile on his lips.

JJ, who’s dressed in a waiter's suit, suddenly turns and his eyes darken at the sight of Kelce's hands on your body. He quickly let go of Rafe's grip, spitting on his face, and sends his fist into Kelce's head before he has time to react. The boy finally let go of your wrists and falls to the ground, struck by the impact. You take a deep breath and massage your red wrists as JJ punches Kelce multiple times. Rafe is about to grab JJ, but you’re quicker than him; you knee your cousin in the balls, making him lose his balance.

“Gentlemen!” A security guard shouts, making JJ let go of Kelce who’s lying on the ground. “Is there a problem here?”

“Pardon me, officer. No, there’s not an issue… Actually, yes, there is an issue. This guy on the floor was just about to abuse of this young woman.” JJ replies to the guard, taking your hand in his.

“It’s true, sir.” You add, showing your bruised wrists to the officer.

“She was into him! She’s just a little lying slut.” Rafe spits while glaring at you with guns in his eyes.

JJ lets go of your hand and almost sends his fist into Rafe's face, but the officer holds him back.

“I’m gonna need to escort you out, young man.” The officer states, grabbing JJ’s arms. “And you, lady, I’m gonna asks you to leave the man’s bathroom.”

JJ tries to escape from the guard's grip as he escorts him to the backyard.

“Look, I can walk myself, man. I got legs. Can you see that, brother?” JJ mocks him once he’s on the patio.

You walk out and Kiara joins you quickly, questioning you with her eyes. You see JJ stalling a glass of alcohol and starting to shout nonsense in the middle of the crowd.

“Let go of him!” Shouts Kie, seeing that you are frozen.“You can’t just boot him!”

“Excuse me, ma’am?” The officer questions.

“I invited him here.” You say before Kie, making you deserve a look of disapproval from your father. “I’m a member of this club.”

JJ smiles at you and pushes away the guard who almost falls on the ground.

“Sorry about that!” JJ says before turning himself to catch you and Kie’s gazes. “Mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Y/n and Kie.”

A stupid grin takes place on your lips while you challenge your father’s disapproval gaze.

“Pope, you as well, all right? Rixon’s Cove. Let’s roll.” JJ adds, walking backwards in the crowd. “All right, Y/n, come on! Workers of the world unite. Throw off your chains, babe!”

Your father walks up to you and try to grab you by the arm, but you dodge, arrogantly smiling at him before you start running straight to JJ who joined John B on the grass. You jump in his arms and he grabs you by the waist to make you spin, quickly kissing your lips that taste like coconut due to the pinacoladas that you drank.

“Later, losers!” Shouts John B to the crowd before you all start to run toward the boat.

Once on the sand, John B gets on the boat first and helps Kie jump in because she’s struggling with her dress while Pope gets behind the wheel. You help JJ move the boat away from the shore by pushing on the front. He climbs aboard the boat and grabs your two hands to pull you up. You land with both feet on the front of the HMS Pogue as he hugs you tightly.

“We’re back in the G-game, baby.” JJ whispers to your ear, a little smirk on his face.

You smile at him and put yourself on tiptoe to press your lips against his. He wraps his hands around your waist and you feel him smile against your lips when Pope reacts by grunting like he always does when you two kisses in front of him and the others. JJ puts you on his lap as he sits in the front because the boat begins to pick up speed.

“I managed to add a pogue element to my outfit.” You proudly smile to JJ, showing him your shoes that he offered you a year ago.

“That’s my girl.” He proudly says before grabbin your face to kiss your lips.

milamaybank’s masterlist

477 notes · View notes

dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years

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Chapter 11 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

Chapter eleven

~|Charlie Gillespie|~

Making out in the back of a music store has never been at the top of my bucket list, but I have to tell you, it’s the best thing ever. Unless one’s employer barges in every five minutes. Even though we only ever sneak off during her breaks or after closing time, Ash never really leaves us alone. Ever since she busted us after hours, she hasn’t trusted us alone for a second. It’s kind of annoying and pretty much the biggest buzzkill ever. “Ash, could you please stop coming in so often?!” Emily shouts at her on Wednesday. This time, we’d just been working around the store; Emily sweeping up and me sorting the invoices. “If you didn’t violate my trust, I wouldn’t have to come back so often!” Ash shouts back. I suddenly feel like I’m intruding and shouldn’t be there at all. “How in the hell did I violate your trust? It’s not like we’ve been sneaking off during my shifts!” This discussion is way worse than what their other discussions have been before. “Hey, Ems…” I try to chime in carefully. “Not now, Charles!” I immediately back off upon hearing my full name and return to sorting the invoices. “Tell me, Ash. How did I violate your trust? If anything, you violated my privacy!” “Your privacy? This is my store you’re talking about, Emily Fox!” Mmh, Emily Fox. Nice. Sounds cute. Not the point, though. “You shouldn’t be making out in a store people could just walk right into!” I really just want to leave and not be a part of this at all, but I don’t want to leave Emily alone either. “Fine! We shouldn’t have, okay? Can you get off our backs now?!” She glances over at me and offers me a quick smile, telling me it’s all right. “Fine! But if I ever bust you again not doing what you’re supposed to do, you’re fired.” “Honestly, you should be happy Charlie is helping out for free.” “Whatever, Emily. Just don’t let it happen again, okay?!” “Yeah, it won’t happen again, Ashlynn. Now, please leave, so I can clean up.” Emily passive-aggressively points at the door, arm stretched out entirely. Ash huffs once before turning around and leaving the store. The tension, however, doesn’t leave with her. It stays here. On Emily’s shoulders and hangs around us like a foggy mist. “You okay, Ems?” I carefully ask. She noticeably relaxes a little, her shoulders tensing a little less. She then lets out an exasperated sigh and walks over towards me. I think she wants a hug, so I start opening my arms until she walks past me and grabs the broom instead. “Hey,” I grab her hand gingerly. She looks up at me, her eyes dark and shooting fires which fade out quickly. “I’m fine, Charlie,” she manages a smile, but it doesn’t convince me. “You sure?” She nods her head and reaches up to kiss me on my cheek. I’m then left alone with the burning feeling of her lips still on my cheek whilst she goes to sweep up the place. From that day on, our make-out sessions have been put on hold until we’re out of the store and now take place in a dodgy alley between stores. “Are you sure we should be here?” I ask, pulling away from a kiss, and looking around feverishly. Emily’s chuckle reassures me the tiniest bit. “Relax, I used to come here with –” she freezes, her eyes widening. “With who?” I ask. “With whom?” she corrects my grammar, which makes me roll my eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” she replies and grabs my face to lead me towards her lips again. The half-sentence keeps haunting my mind though, so I pull away again. “Charlie!” she drawls out the last syllable of my name in an annoyed squeak. “I’m sorry, but now I can’t stop thinking about you kissing another guy here.” “You’re imagining me kissing another guy? Is that a weird turn-on I never heard about, or?” She looks adorable with her head slightly tilted and her eyebrows knitted together, her face only lit up by one streetlight. “No,” I scoff, “I just—” I can’t even find the right words to tell her what I’m feeling or thinking. There’s a lot going on in my mind and most of them don’t have to do with me kissing Emily. I can’t find my way through the word-jumble. “Hey,” she brings my attention right back to her, “If it’ll make you feel better, I know a different place we can do this.” She wiggles her eyebrows, pecks my lips once more, and then leads me out to the street again. It takes us a while to get to the location, but once we’re there, I realize we’re in front of her house. “Ems?” “There’s a fire escape ladder on the left side of the house, which leads to the balcony that’s connected to my bedroom. Climb up and meet me there. I’m going inside to distract my uncle Mitch.” Her voice is just above a whisper, and it’s sending shivers down my spine. “Ems—” “Go!” She kisses me once again before heading inside. Before she shuts the front door, she mouths a ‘go’. I listen like an obedient puppy and make my way into her yard. I pass a large window through which I can see Emily talking to her uncle. He seems like a cool uncle. Not one who’d kill me for dating his daughter, or niece. Emily spots me, her eyes growing wide. She jerks her head a little, telling me to move on with my journey. Suddenly, Uncle Mitch starts turning towards the window and in case Emily doesn’t save the situation in time, I squat down behind the bush in front of me. One, two, three, four, five. I peek behind the bush, finding no one in the living room; they must’ve split. So, I make my way up the balcony where I find Emily already. She’s turned on the many fairy lights in her room, which gives the small balcony a fairytale-like glow. “Never heard of a term ‘hurry’?” She asks and immediately plants her lips onto mine. I haven’t even gotten the time to get off the ladder. “Hey, this kind of looks like that scene in Aladdin, doesn’t it?” She points out with a smile, her hands still on my cheeks. “Should I have brought my magic carpet?” I ask while she steps away to give me room to get off the ladder and onto the balcony. With an amused smile on her face, she raises her eyebrows as if saying “really, honey?”. – I’m imagining the cute nickname. She wouldn’t actually call me ‘honey’, sadly enough. “Just kiss me,” I say, a little annoyed she doesn’t like my joke. “Wait!” she says and gets back inside her room. I watch her – and admire her – as she grabs a heap of cushions from her bed. “I locked the door, so I think we might be good on the adults-entering-unexpectedly front.” I chuckle a little and take a couple of the cushions from her. We place them against the railing. I sit down first, Emily following suit. At first, she just sits next to me, grabs my face and kisses me passionately. I’m a bit taken aback by the fire in her kisses tonight, but I can’t say I don’t like it. “Are you comfortable?” I ask her then, realizing she’s straining herself a little. Even though she nods, I still grab both her legs and swing them over mine, so she’s sideways. “Better?” She nods again before resuming our kiss with a faint smile on her face. I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips too. Being with Emily is unbelievable.

That’s how we spend every night from Thursday on. On her balcony, making out. Every night except Saturday. Emily asked Ash beforehand if it was cool the band would come and rehearse in the store tonight. “Well, as long as you don’t have make-out sessions with all of them, I’m fine with it,” Ash had said, to which Emily had rolled her eyes. Hard. “Are you guys decent? We’re coming in!” Jeremy’s voice sounds just after the bell ringing. “What do you think we’re doing in here?” Emily makes the mistake of actually reacting. “You don’t want to know what he’s thinking,” Owen tells her instead, slapping Jeremy on the back of his head. The dark-haired boy lets out an ‘ow’ before glaring at the blonde one. “Right, I don’t,” Emily’s mouth curls up into a smirk, and I know exactly what’s coming. “What I do want is hearing you guys play.” I knew it and I can’t stop my eyes from rolling. “What do you want us to play?” Owen questions as he takes his spot behind the drums. “Now or Never,” Emily and I say in unison. She furrows her eyebrows at me, giving me an adorable version of her scowl. “You ask me to play that all the time, Ems,” I tell her, hanging the strap of the guitar over my shoulders. “Eh…” she squeaks out as if thinking about whether it’s true or not. “I mean, you can’t blame me, Charlie, that song is really good.” She shrugs her shoulders then and gets behind the counter for the broom. “One, two, three!” Owen counts us in once we’re all ready to go, and off we go again with the same song. But I don’t mind though, it’s for Emily. And it’s adorable how much she loves this song. She can even sing along now. Just like last week, she sings along during the bridge, which doesn’t even surprise me anymore. I just love hearing her voice blended with ours. “You know you have this cute thing you do with your leg when you’re playing?” she asks me when we finish the song. My eyebrows knit together as I look down at my leg as if I’d see it now that we’ve stopped playing. “What do I do with my leg?” She imitates me, pumping her leg forwards ever so often. “I don’t do that with my leg!” I scoff, not entirely sure if it’s actually true or if I should be offended, for that matter. “Yeah, you do,” all three of them reply, but not at the same time. My mouth drops open in shock. “I do not!” The words come out in some sort of a squeak, my voice failing on me a little. “You do,” Emily mouths to me while Jeremy places his bass on the stand for a break. “Hey, Emsie-girl,” he captures all of our attention, mostly with the nickname. “Have you decided if you’ll join Sunset Curve or not?” She did ask for a week exactly a week ago. I’d almost forgotten. Emily’s mouth opens like she’s going to say something, all three of us staring, awaiting her response. “I mean, is it a good idea with me and Charlie…” she asks carefully. “Why would that change anything?” I shoot back, a little offended she’ll use our relationship as a reason not to join our band. “Fleetwood Mac? ABBA? They split up because they couldn’t work together anymore due to break-ups between each other and stuff…” “So, you’re thinking we’re going to break up too?” I ask, a little offended. “No!” she responds instantly. “No, I just… I don’t know, Charlie…” I walk up to her, my guitar still strapped across my torso, and grab her hand in mine. “If you want to join the band, we could just try it, okay? If it becomes even a little straining to what we have, we’ll quit,” I propose to her. “Quit what? Us or the band?” she whispers, not wanting the boys to hear and be offended too. “The band,” I reply in the same whisper. “Hey! We heard that!” Jeremy chimes in again. Emily and I look up for a second, decide to ignore it and turn back to each other. “So, what’s it going to be, Ems?” I look at her with hopeful eyes. Hopeful she’ll say yes. Hopeful I finally get to write songs with her and actually sing them too. “Uhm… Yeah, sure. I’ll join Sunset Curve!” The boys and I all erupt into loud cheers. I give her a kiss on the cheek and then trade my electric guitar for an acoustic one. I know exactly what this moment asks for. “Sunset Curve is reborn!” Owen throws his hands into the air. I strum my guitar, a melody flowing out of the instrument in my hands. “Come on, Jeremy!” Owen says and starts tapping his own body. A bit of body percussion thrown into it, perfect. “One, two, three, four,” he counts us in, and Jeremy begins to sing whilst Emily goes back to cleaning up the store. “Can you, can you hear me” “Yup, loud and clear!” Emily says in a normal tone, totally ruining the vibe a little. “Gotta get, gotta get ready,” Jeremy goes again. “'Cause it's been years,” I sing. “I mean…” Comes from Emily again. I give her a glare and then start following her around the store. “Oh, this band is back,” Jeremy sings, joining me in the chase of Emily. “Oh, this band is back,” we all sing together and Owen shuffles behind us in tow, still tapping his own body. “Whoo, ooh, ooh, ooh Whoo, ooh, ooh, ooh Whoo, ooh, ooh, ooh” Emily stops at the sheet music station, grabs a couple of sheets and then moves back to the piano with her entourage behind her. “Can you” “Yes, we can,” Emily and I now sing together. At least she’s singing now. “Can you hear me,” Owen and Jeremy go. “Loud and clear!” “We gotta get,” “Wanna get,” “We gotta get ready” “'Cause it's been years, hey” Our voices blend together nicely. Especially with Emily’s voice harmonizing with ours. “Oh, this band is back Oh, this band is back Whoo, ooh, ooh, ooh Whoo, ooh, ooh, ooh Whoo, ooh, ooh, ooh Whoo, ooh, wee, ooh!” The boys and I then start scatting – or trying to, earning a weird glance from Emily. “I cannot scat,” I say, but continue anyway. “No, you cannot,” Emily replies teasingly. She shoots me a teasing smile my way too, and I nearly melt on the spot. This girl is honestly going to be the death of me someday.

Taglist: @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @hannahhistorian92 @gingerxarmy @marinettepotterandplagg @lovesanimals @thequirkybookaholic

Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #charlie gillespie #jeremy shada #owen joyner #madison reyes #oc emily fox #charlie x oc #luke patterson #reggie jatp #alex jatp #julie molina

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mostlycompetentwriter · 5 years

Text

Sunshine

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Han Jisung (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 12K

Genre: Married Life AU

Warnings: Smut and Language

Summary: Y/N has loved Jisung for her entire life and she would never dream of marrying anyone else. Of course, their life together isn’t always perfect, but they’ve always managed to overcome every obstacle standing in their way.

Note: Feeling soft for Jisung these days...

I was only 8-years-old when my parents divorced.

My mother, thinking herself circumspect, blamed it on my father’s long hours at work. But she wasn’t there the night I decided to wait for my father, watching him come home in the dead of night to quietly clean the lipstick painting the side of his cheek. I remember catching his eyes from the bottom of the staircase and the guilt in his eyes was impossible to dismiss.

Those kinds of unfortunate secrets are difficult to hide because they demand to be seen.

Thereafter, I can recall memories of sitting in different offices, listening to my parents bicker while their lawyers did their best to satisfy bitter clients, especially when it came to their daughter. I was a particularly harsh point of contention, but full childhood custody was granted to my mother who did everything in her power to push my father out of our lives, even packing up our belongings to move to the opposite side of the country. And New York City was just as intimidating as my childish imagination had perceived it to be. My first impression was unforgettable, a city that was large and confusing, constantly streaked with traffic and heavy with the low-set of smog in the mornings when the sun could barely filter through the landscape of skyscrapers.

My mother and I moved to the suburbs and started renting a modest home with the idyllic front yard and friendly neighbors who greeted us with dishes containing different foods upon our arrival. I had always been shy and introverted, choosing the comfort of my mother’s legs whenever a stranger would knock on our door, occasionally offering my mother a flirtatious smile. Like the older man who lived across the street who often made a habit of coming over to talk to my mother in the living room while I hid away upstairs, listening to the sound of their laughter.

Eventually, I could no longer pretend that something strange wasn’t happening, especially when my mother’s new friend brought over his two sons. They were both around my age, sporting thick accents that reminded me of the man on television who liked to wrestle with crocodiles. My mother’s friend introduced them as Chan and Felix, encouraging the three of us to get along because we would be spending a lot of time with each other. My childish innocence didn’t quite understand what that meant, but I wanted to do the very best for my mother.

Even so, I was still hesitant at first because Felix seemed to dislike the idea, ignoring me in exchange for his video games when I would come over to their house. Thankfully, Chan was more willing to comply, sharing his books with me since we both liked to read and the couch in his bedroom was extremely comfortable. He had a wide variety of mysteries and thrillers and my impressionable mind would latch onto those exotic stories and themes, picturing myself in the place of the heroine who somehow managed to always know exactly what to do in the most formidable of situations.

Eventually, Chan invited me to accompany him and Felix to the park to meet their other friends since I was having trouble making them on my own. Felix, of course, remained opposed, very nearly throwing a fit had it not been for his father who scolded his son for being so inconsiderate. Not that I was necessarily excited at the idea of meeting their friends since I would have preferred staying inside to read. Nevertheless, my mother was insistent that we get along, so I reluctantly followed Chan and Felix who were talking about some sort of new comic book that they were both reading. It was all very decidedly boyish things and I had no interest in superheroes who ran around in capes when the real heroes were the common female protagonists of my books.

“Everyone, meet Y/N,” Chan had introduced me, pushing me forward to greet the seven other boys who were all looking at me like I was some sort of extraterrestrial specimen.

One of their older friends, with a messy head of black hair, immediately crossed his arms. “No way, Chan,” he protested, glaring at me with intimidating dark eyes.

“Girls aren’t allowed,” another boy agreed, nodding his head with enough force to send his bangs flying into his eyes.

I retreated into myself with each subsequent insult and dismissal thrown my way. It was enough to ostracise even the most outgoing of individuals, but I was quite frustrated because I had tried to resist coming along from the moment Chan first proposed the idea. “I didn’t want to come anyway,” I snapped at the boys, surprising each and every one of them as I stormed away to plant myself down on one of the park benches.

I could hear Chan calling my name but I had decidedly had enough of those boys, including Chan despite the inherent kindness he had previously shown me. In fact, they could have fun without me doing whatever it is that nasty little boys liked to do in the park. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have enjoyed it anyway, even if they had opened their arms and begged me to play along. Of course, I was still deeply hurt that they had dismissed me so quickly, but I had always been a prideful child, which is why my first instinct was to lash out when I noticed a shadow had fallen over my wilted form. “You don’t have to be nice anymore, Chan,” I said, turning away from the approaching boy.

“I’m really sorry.”

I glanced up in surprise when I realized that the voice was much brighter than Chan’s gravelly tone. Instead, I met a pair of unfamiliar brown eyes from beneath a fringe of blonde-colored hair. The boy held out a flower, a wilted dandelion that had nearly lost its pappus, as if in a gesture of appeasement.

I accepted it from him hesitantly. “Thank you.”

“They shouldn’t be so mean,” the boy continued, waving at his friends who were busy arguing over a silly football. “You’re really tall so you might be able to catch Minho’s long passes.”

I paused at his comment. “Do you want me to play?”

“Of course,” the boy grinned, smiling as brilliantly as the sun bearing down on the two of us. “My name’s Jisung.”

I returned his smile. “It’s nice to meet you Jisung.” He offered me his hand which I gratefully accepted, holding on to him with an unrelenting grip because I had a feeling that I would never want to let go.

This might explain why, years later, I was still waking up next to him in bed with an expensive ring on my finger courtesy of dozens of saved paychecks back when Jisung worked overtime in college. On this morning, in particular, the sound of my alarm might have been enough to wake me up, but the unexpected presence of my husband’s hand groping my chest provided the necessary catalyst to blindly reach out for my cell phone. I silenced the unwelcome disturbance, allowing a low groan when I reached down for his hand because leave it to Han Jisung to feel me up even when we were both sleeping. “What are you doing?” Jisung asked when I tightened my fingers around his wrist, loudly protesting when he squeezed my breast in return.

“It’s too early for that,” I whined, especially when he started to rub his hard cock against my ass.

“Just let me put it inside for five minutes,” Jisung pleaded, his other hand roaming down to tug on my panties.

“What good will that do?” I asked him, slowly wriggling away from his arms despite the show of childish outrage from my immature husband who still sometimes forgot that he was an adult.

“You’re gonna make me show up to work like this?” Jisung pouted, expression painted with his betrayal as he watched me walk around our bedroom.

“Take a cold shower,” I said, tossing a towel in his direction.

“Y/N,” Jisung said. “Let’s think about the practicalities of the situation. We haven’t had sex in a week and my dick feels like it might fall off at any moment.”

“And if we look at this situation scientifically,” I added. “I doubt your dick will fall off because that’s assuredly impossible.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” Jisung asked in an exaggerated fashion, burying his face into our nicest set of pillows.

“Because I’m meeting Seungmin and Jeongin for lunch and you have a field trip to chaperone. Plus, I don’t want to listen to Changbin complain to me on the phone tonight when you show up to work late again.”

“Seungmin and Jeongin are more important than me?”

“Lunch is more important than you,” I corrected him with a smirk, reaching for my bag. “Have a nice day at work, babe.”

“No kiss goodbye?” Jisung questioned even as the door to our bedroom shut soundly behind me.

Being amongst the youngest, me, Seungmin, and Jeongin frequently made a habit of eating lunch together on Saturday afternoons. It was a traditional affair, primarily allowing the three of us to gossip about the others without fear of reprimand. And ever since our Freshman year writing lecture, we’ve enjoyed greasy fast food while commenting on everything from Chan and Changbin’s sudden obsession with the gym to our theories that Minho was secretly married to a rich aristocrat who supplied him with the endless amount of money he spent on his cats.

“Hey!” Jeongin protested when I reached over to steal a piece of his steak.

“It looks better than mine,” I attempted to justify, speaking over a mouthful of food which my mother would normally offer criticism.

“Felix has been acting weird lately,” Seungmin randomly commented, a frown confusing his features as he scrolled through his phone.

I chewed the stolen beef before asking, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he only ever gets like this when she’s back in town.”

I let out a heavy exhale, understanding exactly why Seungmin was concerned. “How long?”

“A week or so,” Seungmin said. “He never comes out with us anymore.”

“Does Changbin know?” I asked, sliding my plate aside in exchange for this piece of juicy gossip.

Changbin’s sister, better known as the object of Felix’s most intimate desires, has managed to whole-heartedly capture Felix in some sort of deadly trance. My step-brother, notoriously known for being a playboy in college, became whipped around Changbin’s sister, following her around like a lost puppy begging for attention. “Of course he does,” Seungmin replied. “But he says that Kara hasn’t tried to contact Felix at all.”

“Obviously,” I snorted. “Changbin thinks Kara is the epitome of perfection. His little sister can’t possibly do wrong in his eyes.”

“I think Felix shares his opinion,” Jeongin commented, trying to sound perfectly serious while he sipped on his chocolate milk.

“We’re having a family dinner tomorrow night,” I said with a sigh. “It’s a good opportunity to interrogate my step-brother.”

“Please, Y/N,” Seungmin said, eyes round and soft. “Felix always tells you everything.”

“And you can immediately tell us in the group chat,” Jeongin chirped happily.

“Of course!” I agreed, reaching over to ruffle Jeongin’s hair until my phone abruptly started ringing. “Yes, Hyunjin?” I sighed into the other end.

“Y/N! We have an emergency!”

I rolled my eyes at his theatrics. “It can’t be that bad.”

“We don’t have straws! I repeat, the cafe has no straws and people are asking for straws, Y/N.”

“Jesus, Hyunjin,” I groaned. “Just go next door and buy some straws.”

“Y/N,” Hyujin huffed impatiently. “There is a bigger problem here and you don’t even realize! That kid you hired last week? I think he’s out to sabotage the cafe. I put him in charge of ordering supplies and guess what isn’t supplied?”

“The damn straws,” I muttered, suddenly having a million regrets for agreeing to open the cafe with Hyunjin in the first place.

“Now you finally understand.”

I carefully lowered the phone from my ear, cupping the receiver to look at Seungmin. “Do you mind coming with me to the cafe? I’m supposed to have the day off but Hyunjin’s losing his shit over straws.”

“Sounds like Hyunjin,” Seungmin smirked. “I don’t have anything better to do.”

“Hyujin,” I repeated into the phone. “Please don’t scream at that poor kid, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

The cafe was originally supposed to be an independent endeavor until Hwang Hyunjin found out about my plans and demanded some sort of involvement. Despite our friendship, I was still hesitant to consider Hyunjin as a business partner, especially considering his performances in the lectures we shared in college. Hyunjin was the type of student to arrive to class five minutes before the professor, desperation clinging to him persistently while he begged me to explain the homework assignment. Nevertheless, Hyunjin somehow graduated from the business school at the same time as I did, albeit without the honor’s recognition, proving himself despite the doubts of nearly everyone in our friend circle with the exception of Jisung who always managed to see the good in everyone.

Shortly after graduation, Hyunjin and I took out a small loan from the bank to open our cafe in a very strategic location close to a nearby university. From the beginning, I had primarily handled the more elaborate side of our business ranging from accounting and point of sales to ordering supplies and handling employees. Hyunjin, on the other hand, took care of the creative aspects including designing what he deemed an “elegant” menu while also trying out new recipes that our mostly college-aged clientele greatly enjoyed in the form of free samples.

“Y/N!” Hyujin gasped as soon as I walked in the door with Seungmin and Jeongin. “Well?”

I held up a grocery bag full of the straws I had just purchased. “It’s fine, Hyunjin.”

“It’s not fine,” Hyunjin protested, walking over to yank the bag free from my grasp. “I’ll have you know that one of our usual customers left us 4 instead of 5 stars for satisfaction.”

“What will we do?” I deadpanned. “Where’s the new kid? Did you scold him thoroughly?”

“Of course I did,” Hyunjin said, pointing to the kitchen. “I sent him to wash dishes.”

“He’s a cashier.”

“It’s punishment, Y/N,” Hyunjin said. “We can’t have him thinking he can get away with potentially damaging our public image.”

“These kids will still get their morning coffee,” I said. “They don’t care if we’re out of straws as long as they have somewhere to loiter around all day to finish their essays.”

“That’s another thing,” Hyunjin said. “I think we definitely need a bigger place and I know the owner next door said something about moving out.”

“Renovations are expensive,” I said. “And you don’t know if the landlord would be okay with us tearing out the wall to expand.”

“What if I found out?”

“Talk to Seungmin instead,” I suggested, tugging the younger boy forward. “I’ll see about this new guy you’ve decided to torture.”

“Punishment, Y/N!”

I rolled my eyes because I was still frustrated that I had to come into the cafe because of the worst excuse for an emergency in the history of mankind. But what else did I expect from Hyunjin? “Remember to breathe, Y/N,” I whispered to myself.

Back in the kitchen, our newest employee, donned in his decorative jacket courtesy of Hyunjin’s obsession with bright uniforms, was currently bent over the sink with thick gloves pulled up to his elbows. I felt bad for the guy because it was obvious that he wasn’t used to doing something like this. “Hey, kid,” I said, surprising the younger boy who immediately dropped one of the cups back into the sudsy water. “You don’t have to do that anymore.”

“I-I don’t mind,” he stuttered, eyes wide as he held tightly to a sponge.

“It’s not your job,” I insisted, carefully taking the sponge from him like he was a deer that might dart away at any sudden movement. “I’m sorry Hyunjin told you to come back here. To be honest, he was probably trying to avoid this work himself.”

“But I messed up the order,” he said, hanging his head. “It’s my fault.”

“Not it’s not and don’t let Hyunjin tell you otherwise,” I said. “Next time, call me if you’re having trouble with the order.”

I reached into my bag to pull out my business card, holding it out for his reluctant hand which was still slightly damp from his unexpected dish duty. “You’re not mad?” he asked reluctantly.

“No way,” I reassured him. “I used to work during college too, you know. I kinda get it, kid, so don’t worry about anything.”

His smile was sincere, looking at my card like it was the key to the world. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Get back on register,” I encouraged him. “That’s what I hired you for, and next time Hyunjin gives you any shit, you just let me know.”

He nodded enthusiastically, vacating the kitchen as if he was actually thrilled by the idea of returning to the register. I knew all was well when I could hear Hyunjin’s shrill voice from the other room: “Y/N!”

Jisung managed to beat me home and I walked inside to find my husband laid out on the couch with a glass of orange juice in one hand. “Headache,” Jisung pouted at me.

“Take some Advil,” I said with a smirk, ignoring the way his hands reached out for me in exchange for the possibility of a snack from the kitchen.

“Y/N!” I heard him groan my name.

“Sungie,” I returned his call. “I hope this isn’t some sort of elaborate set-up because we have dinner with my mother tomorrow night.”

Jisung was silent in the next room and I shook my head while dumping a sample of chips into one of our plastic bowls. I came back out into the living room to find Jisung rolled over onto his stomach, face buried into the cushions of our sectional. “Baby,” I cooed, trying to lure him out from his hiding place.

“I forgot about the dinner,” Jisung said, voice muffled against the furniture.

“I figured that,” I said, somewhat sympathetic to his plight. For as long as I could remember, Jisung had always feared our family dinners mainly because my mother had a personal vendetta against him. Ever since he first stepped foot on the porch wearing a rented suit for Junior year prom, my mother had deemed him unworthy of my time. Her feelings only worsened when she found out that Jisung was majoring in elementary education. “A teacher, Y/N! That boy isn’t going to be able to support the two of you!”

Subsequently, every visit to my mother’s house meant that Jisung had to listen to my mother read statistics on how poor and destitute teachers were in the city. Meanwhile, Felix also received the same treatment from his father who was absolutely horrified when he found out that his youngest son wanted to open a dance studio with Minho. It didn’t help that my step-father loathed Minho because he found him and Felix in the back of Minho’s corvette smoking enough weed to satisfy the entirety of our high school.

It was a complete contradiction because while Jisung and Felix were constantly reprimanded, Chan and I were bathed in compliments and adoration. “Channie,” my mother would smile. “How are your cases?” Chan was some kind of small claims lawyer in the upper Bronx which meant he made enough money to buy a Rolex for every day of the week while driving an expensive Tesla.

“And Y/N,” my mother would address me. “How’s the cafe?”

“We always do well around Finals season,” I told her.

“That’s wonderful darling!” she would always say while glaring in Jisung’s direction who would visibly falter under my mother’s judgemental stare. “How are your...kids, Jisung?”

“They’re great,” Jisung would laugh nervously. “I had to stop one of them from eating a bottle of glue the other day.”

I would laugh and affectionately run my fingers through Jisung’s hair while my mother remained statuesque-still. “How amusing.”

The pattern persisted to this day and I knew Jisung tolerated the dinners for my sake, but he always protested in different ways. For example, last month Jisung agreed to babysit our neighbor’s Pomeranian because he thought I might allow him to stay at home. And I almost let him get away with his impromptu plans when I remembered that Jisung would have to make dinner on his own and I was horrified by the idea of Han Jisung anywhere near my kitchen.

“Tell your mother I’m dying,” Jisung said, pulling me from my thoughts. “That should make her happy.”

“Han Jisung,” I scolded him, reaching down to gently massage his leg. “I’m not leaving you home alone. You’re prone to more kitchen fires than anyone else I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ll order takeout,” Jisung said, kicking his foot out against my thigh.

“If you’re gonna act like a child, then I’ll have to treat you like one,” I said, giving his ass a firm smack before rising from the sectional.

Jisung jolted at the unexpected contact, raising his head to briefly consider me. “What was that?”

“Do you not want to play?” I returned, grinning when Jisung immediately sat upright from his position on the sofa, leaning forward in expectation. “Does this mean what I think it does?”

“Perhaps if you decide to stop being so stubborn about the dinner,” I said, dropping to my knees in front of him.

Jisung’s eyes grew wide with lust, hands reaching out to pull my head closer to his crotch. “I’ll go to as many dinners as you want, babe.”

“That’s better,” I smirked, efficiently undoing his belt. “It’s only for a few hours.”

Jisung was ecstatic, pulling down his jeans and underwear. “I’ll just sit with Felix in the dining room alone.”

“Is that so?” I asked, curling my fingers around his hardening cock.

Jisung nodded, hair falling into his eyes as he watched me with rapt attention. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to him recently.”

“What a good sport,” I teased, jerking his cock a few times because I liked the way Jisung’s eyelids would flutter with his pleasure. But he was being remarkably good, so I decided he had earned an end to his apparent sexual frustrations. I took in the tip of his cock, running my tongue along the slit dripping with milky white pre-cum.

“Please,” Jisung begged, grip unrelenting on my hair as he encouraged me to swallow more of his cock, slowly taking him in until I could feel him at the back of my throat. “Can I do it?” Jisung asked with desperate eyes and I nodded once, giving him the permission he desired to move my head up and down the length of his erection, warm and rigid against my tongue. I made sure to moan around him because I knew the resulting vibrations felt really good, enjoying the sounds of Jisung’s grunts as he fucked my mouth.

While Jisung did a majority of the work, I tried to amplify his pleasure when I could like running my tongue along the prominent vein on his cock or using my teeth to drag against the fleshy part of him. My fingernails dug into his thighs, leaving behind marks that would probably vanish after a warm shower. Tears were steadily streaking down my cheeks courtesy of an instinctual reaction to Jisung’s cock repeatedly sliding in and out, hollowing my cheeks to accommodate him. “It feels so good,” Jisung said, palms clammy as one hand came to fan against my cheek, wiping away the smeared streaks of my mascara.

Throughout our years together, I had learned a lot about Jisung including his apparent oral fixation when it came to sex. Jisung loved when I gave him a blowjob as I discovered for the very first time locked away in the Janitor’s closet, tasting Jisung on my tongue for a few seconds before he was cumming down my throat, apologizing incessantly for not being able to last longer. As if I really cared because I was quite proud of myself for breaking him down so quickly. But as much as Jisung liked to receive, he also loved to give and feeling his tongue on my pussy was a guilty pleasure, watching Jisung eat me out like he belonged between my thighs.

“Cumming,” Jisung warned me, grip tightening as his hips stuttered, pubic hair brushing against my nose while the bitter taste of his cum was swallowed down with effort because my throat was now incredibly sore.

Jisung fell back against the couch, fingers pushing my hair back from where it had fallen messily into my face. I shakily climbed into his lap, kissing him greedily because there was no better sight than Jisung completely spent after a good orgasm, especially when it was because of me. “Is that better, baby?” I asked, pecking him on the nose.

“I love you,” post-orgasm Jisung told me entreatingly, eyes swimming with tears as he proceeded to plant dozens of soft kisses against the exposed skin of my collarbones.

Jisung pulled into the driveway of my mother’s house with a morbid expression. “It’s not too late to cancel, right?”

I ignored his comment, opening the door to step out into the bitterly cold evening. “Babe, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“No need to pretend,” Jisung grumbled, reluctantly following me to the porch where I hit the doorbell, smoothing down my skirt because my mother always liked it when we dressed up for these dinners.

But the last thing I expected to see on the other side of the door was Kara, especially a version of Kara dressed in an appropriately sized skirt. “Y/N!”

I’m sure my expression of shock matched the one present on my husband’s face as we both took in the sight of Changbin’s little sister. “Kara?” I questioned stupidly, holding tighter to Jisung’s sweater because I needed something to ground me in the reality of this unanticipated situation.

“You guys look great!” she declared. “Come inside!”

“Of course,” I said softly, pulling Jisung behind me as I stepped into the foyer, shrugging off my coat which Kara took from me to hang in the closet like she had been doing it for years.

“Y/N!” my mother squealed, interrupting the unanswered “why are you here?” hanging between the three of us.

“Mom,” I said, accepting her hug with a wince because my mother was never gentle in her affections.

“And Jisung,” my mother frowned, eyeing my husband up and down. “What the hell are you wearing.”

Jisung looked down at his corduroy pants which I had warned him repeatedly to destroy. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh nevermind with you,” my mother said dismissively, reaching out for Kara. “Look, Y/N, Felix brought home a very nice friend. Are the two of you acquainted?”

“She’s Changbin’s sister,” I told my mother. “Why would I not know her?”

“Oh don’t give me that attitude,” my mother said. “Kara was just telling me about the marketing firm she works for! Isn’t that impressive?”

“My brother’s jealous,” Kara said. “He’s stuck working with kids all day, isn’t that the worst?”

My mother giggled at Kara’s comment while I reached behind me to give Jisung’s hand a reassuring squeeze. I didn’t even need to see my husband’s face to know that he would be fuming over Kara’s words. “I think you can do Felix some good too,” my mother said, now leading Kara towards the kitchen. “That boy is an absolute mess sometimes.”

I found Chan in the living room, eating his way through most of my mother’s groceries. “Channie,” I said, hurrying Jisung along despite the way his feet drug against the carpet. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Chan barely glanced up from his food. “What is it?”

“In private?”

Chan offered me a blank look to which I grabbed his hand, forcing him to the opposite side of the room and away from any potential eavesdroppers. “Why the hell is Kara here?”

“Beats me,” Chan shrugged. “Felix said they’re just friends.”

“Just friends my ass!” I hissed at him. “Chan, you know how stupid Felix gets around her! Since when has Felix brought any of his ‘friends’ to one of these dinners?”

“I don’t want to get involved, Y/N,” Chan said. “It’s really none of our business.”

“But does Changbin know she’s here?”

Chan shrugged helplessly. “How should I know? I don’t see Changbin much these days.”

“Ah, you’re useless,” I declared. “There’s a potentially catastrophic disaster unfolding right in front of your eyes and yet food is more concerning to you.”

“Of course it is,” Chan nodded solemnly. “Why do you think I sacrifice a Sunday night at home to drive an hour over here?”

“What a good son you are,” I said, pinching one of his cheeks. “I’m sure your father would be pleased to hear that.”

“Y/N, I seriously don’t know anything about Felix and Kara,” Chan said, smacking my hand away.

“Listen to me, Chan-”

I broke off when my mother suddenly entered the room with Kara on her heels, holding out a tray of cheese and crackers. “Appetizers!” my mother exclaimed, immediately chastising Jisung when he accidentally dropped one on my mother’s coffee table.

“Leave it alone,” Chan warned me, sparing me no further attention as he joined the others in the living room. I followed him to the couch where I planted myself between my step-brother and Jisung, eyeing Kara suspiciously as she sat herself directly on Felix’s lap, arms wrapped around his neck.

“I think your mother likes me the least tonight,” Jisung whispered anxiously into my ear.

“That’s because Felix has something shiny and new for her to mess with,” I said, patting his thigh soothingly.

“Everyone, help yourselves!” my mother announced, ushering my step-father into the room with a glass of wine in hand.

I handed Jisung a plate. “Do me a favor and keep the food where it belongs.”

Jisung pouted at me. “You act like I’m clumsy on purpose.”

“I don’t need to feed you, do I?” I asked him, ignoring the way he reached down to pinch my waist in warning.

The remainder of our dinner progressed slowly, more so than usual because my mother seemed to have hundreds of questions for Kara. In fact, as opposed to Jisung and Felix being the objects of my mother’s contempt, that title seemed to belong to everyone excluding Kara. Chan and I were rarely spoken to, and Jisung was only addressed when my mother complained that he was chewing too loudly. “Do you see my son-in-law?” she complained to Kara like they were old friends. “He’s never had good table manners.”

I held tightly to Jisung’s hand when I felt him tense next to me. “Jisung’s always been that way,” Kara replied with far too much affection for my liking.

Her comment forced me to recall the very first time I ever met Kara back during my third year of high school. She was a year younger than Jeongin, so she came into our high school as a shy Freshman with only Changbin as an ally. And Changbin loved to brag about how smart his sister was, claiming that she didn’t even need to study because she could memorize everything the teacher said in class. But Changbin hadn’t been exaggerating and I had been slightly jealous of Kara’s easygoing nature, seamlessly inserting herself into our lives as if she had always belonged there. The truth of the matter was that Kara had been attending a private school for most of her life because of her higher intelligence. The school was located hours away from where we lived so we never saw Kara except in brief passing when she came home on the weekends. However, Kara insisted that she wanted a normal high school life, so she enrolled at our local public institution with the goal of making new friends and getting a taste of what her brother always talked about in their long phone conversations.

At first, Kara stuck tightly to Changbin’s side, but it didn’t take long for her to open up to the rest of our group, including Felix whose crush started the moment Kara first walked through the doors. My poor step-brother was enamored, jealous when Kara would start dating some of the older Seniors. Of course, it didn’t help that Changbin remained adamant that Kara never dated any of his friends because they were, in his words, completely unworthy. So, with the exception of the unfortunate incident of Junior prom, Kara obeyed her brother and only showed the other guys affection in the form of a pat on the head or a gentle shove when they said something funny.

By the time I graduated with Hyunjin, Seungmin, Felix, and Jisung, Kara had become another pillar in our dynamic, even appealing to the older ones like Chan and Minho. Yet, when Jeongin finally entered university with the rest of us, something changed with Kara and she no longer hung out with us as much as she had before. Then, there was the matter of her attending college in an entirely different state, only coming to visit sporadically when Felix would bend over backward to make sure she attended one of his fraternity parties. By the time I graduated from college, Kara was more or less nothing but a distant memory, only coming into fruition on rare occasions. Thus, seeing her here today was definitely disorienting, especially since it was only because of Felix that she was here in the first place.

“Kara, you’re such a wonderful girl,” my mother said. “I can’t believe we haven’t met before.”

I rolled my eyes because my mother seemed to forget my Junior year of high school almost as much as I did. “You’ve been such a gracious host,” Kara said to my mother.

“It’s getting late,” my mother sighed, glancing at my step-father who was moments away from passing out on the couch. “We should get to bed, but the rest of you are more than welcome to stay and chat. I know I took up a lot of the conversation.”

“That’s an understatement,” Jisung muttered.

“Anyways, I’ll call you later on this week, Y/N,” my mother said, offering me a lazy wave before collecting Kara into one of the tightest embraces I had ever seen.

Once my mother and step-father had wandered up the steps, Kara came back into the room with mischievous eyes. “Let’s play a game,” Kara suggested, urging us all around the coffee table. I groaned when Jisung pulled me back into his arms, burying his face into the side of my neck like he was prone to do when he was the slightest bit tipsy.

“No more alcohol for you,” I said, swiping the bottle away from my husband who protested half-heartedly.

“What do you suggest?” Felix asked, looking at Kara with starstruck eyes.

“Maybe truth or dare?” Kara said, squealing like she had forgotten that everyone around the table now had a full-time job.

“Why not,” Felix said, reaching for his discarded bottle of Corona. “Would you like to go first?”

Kara giggled when Felix leaned in closer, lips teasing her exposed collarbones. “Keep it PG,” I requested, glaring at Felix.

“Okay,” Kara said, taking the bottle and placing it onto the table.

“If someone can dare me to get laid, that would be nice,” Jisung said and I reached around to elbow my husband in the side for his smart comment.

I watched as the bottle spun around in its defined circumference before landing on Chan who groaned loudly. “Truth or Dare, Chan!”

“Truth,” Chan said, picking up his bottle of beer. “Knowing you’d guys, I’d be forced to drink the rest of this on a dare and I have to be at the office at six.”

“Are you seeing anyone, Chan?” Kara asked, leaning in close like she was about to hear a juicy secret. Of course, I knew better than anyone because I was often the recipient of Chan’s late-night phone calls when my step-brother would complain to me about his sadly lacking love life.

“No,” Chan huffed, reaching out to give the bottle a powerful spin. “I’m always single.”

I reached across to pat him tenderly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Channie, there’s a girl out there waiting for you!”

Felix let out a drunken squeak, turning to look at Kara with a smile. “Truth or dare, Felix?”

“Dare,” Felix said, bouncing up and down from his spot on the floor like a loose spring.

“I dare you to...

“...call Changbin,” I spoke over Kara, enjoying the identical looks of matching horror on their countenances.

“What?” Felix questioned, intoxicated brain undoubtedly having trouble keeping up with the flow of our conversation.

“Call. Changbin.” I repeated, much slower this time to leave no room for a potential misunderstanding. Unsurprisingly, Kara hesitantly shook her head at Felix as if asking him to ignore my request. “Those are the rules,” I informed her smugly, watching Felix as he took out his phone with a shaky hand. He dialed Changbin’s number and we all sat forward in profound expectation of what was about to happen.

That is until Changbin’s voicemail picked up.

Kara snatched Felix’s phone and quickly hung up the call. “He’s not answering, so let’s move on to something else.”

I frowned as I sat back against Jisung’s chest, frustrated because Changbin had probably chosen an early night’s sleep in exchange for answering a friend’s important phone call. “Truth or Dare, Y/N.”

“Truth,” I muttered, folding my arms across my chest even as Jisung started to rub gentle circles into my hips as if picking up on my irritation.

Kara’s eyes narrowed. “Were you jealous when I kissed Jisung at prom?”

The room was dead silent following her vengeful question. My cheeks flushed at the reminder, feeling Jisung squirm uncomfortably behind me. It was a horrible thing to ask me, especially considering the circumstances surrounding the unholy night that Minho had silently termed “the worst day of Y/N’s life.” But I suppose that Kara felt warranted to ask me considering the fact that I had just tried to expose her to Changbin. “Of course I was,” I snapped at her, twisting the bottle while maintaining a penetrative staring contest with Felix’s love interest.

My shoulders relaxed when the bottle landed on Kara, and I quickly intervened before Felix could give Kara an easy way out of what was rapidly becoming a terrible mistake. “Are you dating Felix again?” I asked, watching as her eyes narrowed from my choice of words.

“It’s truth or dare, Y/N.”

“Are you afraid to answer the question?” I asked her. “Or are you just using Felix like always?”

Another long silence enveloped our gathered group.

“I guess I don’t get a turn?” Jisung whispered into the tense silence of the room.

“Holy shit!” Hyunjin exhaled when I finally finished explaining everything that had happened at my mother’s house the previous evening.

“She’s a total bitch,” I said. “Everyone knows that we don’t talk about that night.”

Hyunjin nodded in agreement. “Do you remember the ugly suit I wore?”

I glared at my friend. “You’re not helping and we have customers.”

Hyunjin offered me a salute, returning to the register to accept another order while I aggressively wiped down our counters. One of our waitresses watched me with a gaping mouth until I turned to glare at her. She quickly picked up her tray to retreat back into the crowd of college students.

Now, let me start by saying that Junior year prom was never something I was looking forward to attending. The only reason I even went was because Han Jisung asked me to go and my attraction for him had skyrocketed by this time, to the point where I found myself staring at his ass whenever we had gym together and he decided to demonstrate the correct technique for a pull-up. Our friends deemed our relationship inevitable, the romanticized soulmates who met as kids and grew up together with agreeable personalities. Of course, it also helped when puberty hit and suddenly Han Jisung looked less like the little boy I played with on the playground and more like a man whose dick I really wanted to taste.

For a lot of my classmates, Prom meant an unsanctioned night away from the school where they could lose their inhibitions when someone inevitably spiked the punch bowl. There were no school officials present at the event, only volunteers, and since it didn’t take place on school grounds (but inside of a nearby YMCA) everyone could basically do whatever they wanted without consequence. Thus, the next day’s rumor mill was spinning with tales of romance and deceptions, break-ups and hook-ups, and even the occasional wild story of someone stealing from the radio store next door.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Jisung asked me nervously the moment we first walked inside.

“Sure,” I told him, affectionately adjusting the cute bowtie he had chosen for the occasion, cheeks rosy red as he hurried away.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin said, taking Jisung’s place in front of me. “You look great!”

“So do you,” I told him honestly, appraising his suit which likely cost a thousand dollars just to rent for this one occasion. “Where’s your girl?”

“Who knows, she was just meant to be arm candy,” Hyunjin said dismissively and I snorted at his explanation. “I only came here for the drama and the alcohol.”

“Anything interesting so far?” I asked, grinning when I saw Jisung accidentally knock the punch ladle into the floor.

“Changbin came with a Freshman,” Hyunjin said. “I talked to them earlier and he’s definitely only interested in her ass.”

“How crude,” I remarked. “What about the others?”

“I guess Seungmin and Jeongin came with each other,” Hyunjin snickered. “And I haven’t seen Felix yet.”

I paused. “Felix is coming?”

“It was a last-minute thing,” Hyunjin explained. “Apparently, Felix is bringing someone he really likes.”

“I didn’t know Felix was interested in anyone,” I said, with the exception of Changbin’s little sister, of course.

“It’s getting late,” Hyunjin remarked. “He might have been lying.”

“He wasn’t dressed when I left the house,” I said, remembering the sight of my step-brother teasing Jisung and I from behind our parents while they took an endless amount of pictures while relentlessly questioning Jisung about his appearance.

Speaking of which, I graciously accepted the punch Jisung offered me, taking a sip before wincing. “I think someone added way too much.”

Hyunjin reached for my drink, sniffing the rim before downing the rest. “Not too bad.”

Jisung watched him with wide eyes. “Isn’t that strong?”

“Not strong enough,” Hyunjin complained. “I’m going to find something better. Have fun you two, make sure you use a condom if you’re gonna fuck.”

I glared at Hyunjin’s back as he disappeared into the crowd.

Yes, Prom might not have been high on my list of priorities, but the way Jisung was currently kissing me definitely made it more appealing. After ingesting an appropriate amount of alcohol, a tipsy Jisung had latched himself to my side, whispering rather inappropriate things into my ear before I inevitably found a place where we could be alone, safely tucked away inside the locker room. I drug Jisung to a bench where I immediately straddled his thighs, kissing him with enough force to throw him off balance, hand splayed across my hip as he forced his tongue inside my mouth tasting strongly of alcohol. I struggled to pull in enough oxygen to counter the dizziness threatening to send me falling into the floor. Jisung certainly wasn’t helping matters, squeezing my breasts spilling over the neckline of my dress while pressing sloppy kisses to my throat, erection hard through his dress pants and I had never felt hornier in my entire life. And that includes the time Minho bought me a vibrator for my birthday as a joke but I still tried to use it and ended up masturbating to the thought of Jisung fucking me on my mattress.

“You feel so good,” Jisung whispered to me now, rolling his hips into mine as he sought additional friction. I held tightly to the lapels of his jacket because it felt really nice through the thin fabric of my dress when he would move just right, pressing against my clit with a wonderful pressure that nearly made me cum before he could even put it inside.

“Sungie,” I panted into his ear, tasting every inch of his beautiful honey-golden skin. “Please fuck me.”

“Can I?” Jisung asked, thrusts growing erratic as if affected by just the thought of his cock hot and heavy between my thighs. “Yes, of course, baby. I’ll do that for you.”

“Condom?” I managed, reconnecting our lips because I was quickly coming to the realization that Jisung was a wonderful kisser.

“Shit,” he cursed against my mouth. “I left them in the car.”

“I’ll get them,” I said, reaching deep into the pocket of his suit pants for the key, inadvertently brushing against his cock.

Jisung moaned loudly. “Hurry back, baby.”

“And this!” I said, standing up from his lap to reach into my cleavage to pull out a piece of fabric.

“That was in there the whole time?”

“Not important,” I said, shoving the fabric at him. “Put this on?”

“What is it?” Jisung asked, unraveling the cloth.

“A blindfold,” I said and he looked up at me with evident surprise.

“Why do you want me to wear a blindfold?”

“Just put it on, please,” I begged him.

“Why?” Jisung whined, a complete contradiction to the mess he looked with an erection still prominent in his pants.

“I don’t want you to see me,” I said, blushing at the thought of Han Jisung seeing me naked because I was certainly nothing like those busty girls in the porn magazines I found under his mattress.

“Okay,” Jisung grumbled, probably because he was just as aroused as I was even if that meant doing something that might seem utterly ridiculous to anybody else.

“Don’t take it off,” I warned him, glancing over my shoulder to see Jisung tying the blindfold in place.

Satisfied, I silently rushed back into the gym, making my way to the exit despite the obscene displays taking place all around me courtesy of several pairings of passionate couples. I did my best to ignore them, even though I was pretty sure I saw Hwang Hyunjin in the center of the dance floor, shirt unbuttoned and chest exposed for everyone to see. But Hyunjin loved to be at the center of attention, so I left him to entertain the majority of the women flanking to him like a magnet while I jerked open the door to Jisung’s Sudan, finding the condoms across the dirty backseat of his car.

I grew even more excited just by looking at them, hiding them carefully in my hand as I rushed through the parking lot in my haste to find Jisung again. At this point, the party was in full swing, music loud and pounding, testing the acoustics of the YMCA which probably never hosted anything else this insane and chaotic before. But I was on cloud nine, ready to finally have sex with someone I had been crushing on ever since Jisung had shown off his abs to a doubtful Changbin. However, when I re-opened the doors to the locker room, I stumbled in my heels as I was greeted with an unfortunate visual. An unforgettable image of Kara on top of Jisung, kissing him passionately while she practically forced him to grope her chest. “Y/N,” Jisung moaned, apparently completely unaware of who was actually grinding on his dick.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing,” I finally shrieked, completely horrified at the display that would forever engrain itself into my subconscious.

Jisung immediately pulled off his blindfold, eyes widening in shock when he unceremoniously dumped Kara into the floor who loudly protested. “Y/N?”

“Jisung,” I said, looking back between him and Kara with panicked eyes and a broken heart. I had never felt so betrayed before in my entire life, and there had been moments when I felt downright disgusted with my poor choice in men. But Jisung was more important to me than the casual flings from my past, which probably explains my sudden desire to escape the situation that was forcing messy tears through the mascara clumping my eyelashes together. I left Jisung behind in that nasty locker room before losing myself to the crowd of my classmates.

There was only one person I wanted to see, and I found Hyunjin now re-clothed, talking to some other girls when he first saw me approach. He greeted me cheerfully, only realizing my condition once he stopped to notice the tears falling freely from my tired eyes. “Y/N,” Hyunjin said, expression falling as he pulled me into his arms tightly. “Why are you crying?”

“I saw her with Jisung,” was all I managed to get out before Hyunjin’s eyes were practically blazing with fury.

“That little shit,” Hyunjin cursed, grabbing my hand and leading me through the partygoers who were too busy drunkenly grinding on one another to notice the two of us. “Changbin,” Hyunjin said, interrupting the older boy who was currently fingering the edges of a freshman girl’s panties, practically dry humping through their clothes.

“What is it?” Changbin snapped at Hyunjin, eyes narrowed until they landed on me. “Y/N,” Changbin said, tone much softer as he abruptly dismissed his date who whined about their loss of contact. “What happened?”

“Jisung needs his ass kicked,” Hyunjin said and Changbin needed no further encouragement.

“Where the hell is he?”

It was frigidly cold in the parking lot and there was way too much going on around me. I could barely handle the yelling between Changbin and Felix, my step-brother having found us outside with Jisung trailing behind him, but Hyunjin was arguing with Seungmin and Jeongin, refusing to let Jisung close to me. This night was rapidly becoming one of the worst of my entire life and that says a lot because I had once watched my own father walk out of the house without so much as a goodbye.

“Get out of the way, Felix,” Changbin suddenly growled, fists balled at his sides.

“It’s not his fault,” Felix tried to explain.

“Why is Y/N upset, then?” Changbin demanded, shouldering his way through Seungmin and Jeongin who were certainly no match for a physically stronger Changbin.

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Felix said. “It’s Kara’s fault! She didn’t need to take things that far-”

“Kara!” Changbin interrupted, now even more furious than he was before. “Did you do something to my sister?”

“Not him,” Seungmin suddenly interfered. “Kara and Felix got into a fight and Kara snuck into the locker room to get back at him.”

Changbin took a step back, suspicion bright in his dark eyes. “What did you say?”

“I thought it was Y/N,” Jisung finally spoke up, eyes wet with tears. “She didn’t say anything to me. She just came over and I was waiting for Y/N!”

“What happened to my sister!” Changbin growled.

“She kissed me,” Jisung said, flinching a little when Changbin tried to charge at him, intercepted by Seungmin and Jeongin who held him back by his with as much force as they could manage together. Jisung turned to look at me, gaze entreating as he reached out a hand. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I thought it was you.”

I shook my head, refusing to even look at Han Jisung because my heart was hurting in my chest and the night just continued to grow more and more confusing. “I’ll take care of Y/N,” Hyunjin finally said, sending Jisung a nasty glare before guiding me further and further away from the source of my pain.

But don’t ever let anyone tell you that Seo Changbin didn’t have a soft spot for Han Jisung because, at the drop of a hat, the older boy would immediately be at my husband’s side. And I thoroughly took advantage of this when I asked Jisung to invite Changbin over to our house for dinner one night, the two of them arriving together with Changbin clutching tightly to his sleeping bag. “I guess you’re spending the night,” I remarked.

“Why wouldn’t I? We work at the same place,” came Changbin’s usual response, tossing his bag onto the couch while he followed Jisung into our bedroom, complaining about something to do with the air conditioning. “Your apartment is so much nicer than mine!”

I finished cooking in relative peace, making sure to keep Changbin’s wine glass constantly full because a tipsy Changbin was much easier to deal with than the serious version who would likely explode when he heard my story. “So nice of you Y/N,” Changbin said as he slurped his spaghetti. He and Jisung were always messy when it came to pasta so I tried to ignore their nasty habits.

“Changbin,” I said, studying the older carefully. “I heard Kara was visiting.”

Changbin shrugged, shoving more food into his impossibly small mouth. “She’s been staying at my place.”

“Really?” I asked. “Why haven’t we had a chance to meet her again.”

Changbin glanced up at me. “You don’t even like, Kara, so why would I bother?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “She’s your sister, of course, I would be interested.”

“She stays busy a lot,” Changbin said.

“With who?”

“With work,” Changbin said, taking another long drink of the expensive wine I bought just for this occasion.

“She could have come tonight,” I said carefully, but I had been apparently pushing too far because now Changbin was suspicious.

“What are you getting at, Y/N?”

I took a deep breath, sensing Jisung watching the two of us over a mouthful of noodles. “I saw Kara the other day at my mother’s dinner.”

Changbin paused, considering me with a scowl. “What?”

“She came to our dinner,” I repeated. “With Felix.”

And with the exception of Jisung’s chewing, the room had grown relatively silent. “Why am I just now hearing about this?”

Changbin turned an accusatory gaze at Jisung who just rapidly shook his head and drank more wine. “Probably because she didn’t want anyone to know,” I said. “I think your sister might be trying to start something with Felix again and we both know how badly that turned out last time.”

Changbin dropped his fork, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “So nice of everyone to keep me informed.”

I relaxed a little because Changbin wasn’t reacting as violently as I thought he might. “I wanted to be sure and I got the information I needed today.”

Changbin sighed. “What information?”

“Minho looked through Felix’s phone at their dance practice,” I said. “He saw some messages with Kara. Apparently, they’re going to dinner tomorrow night. Isn’t that nice?”

Changbin’s jaw clenched as he took in this news. “And I’m assuming you have something planned?”

“Maybe,” I said with an innocent shrug. “It could be that Minho, Hyunjin, and I happened to make a reservation at the same place.”

“You’re gonna spy on them?”

“Would you rather us not?”

Changbin scoffed, dark hair falling into his eyes. “Are you asking me to come?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Well of course I do,” Changbin grunted impatiently, reaching down for another forkful of spaghetti while I sat back in my chair with satisfaction.

“This is surprisingly classy of Felix,” Hyunjin remarked, rolling down the window of Minho’s SUV to perch a pair of binoculars on the end of his nose.

“Aren’t you taking this too far?” Minho asked his friend.

“These?” Hyunjin asked, adjusting the lenses. “How else am I supposed to see what’s going on?”

“This is my sister we’re talking about,” Changbin spoke up, tugging at the frayed sleeves of his borrowed jacket.

“And Y/N’s stepbrother,” Minho added.

“I don’t claim him by blood,” I said, reaching over to slap Changbin’s hands. “Stop messing with that, you’re gonna ruin it, and this is Jisung’s nicest coat!”

My husband in question had opted to stay at home since he was probably the smartest out of all of us when it came to potential confrontations. “You’re rich enough to buy him another,” Changbin grumbled.

“He doesn’t wear them,” I said. “I buy him all sorts of clothes, but they always sit in his closet.”

“Who’s he trying to impress at an Elementary school?” Hyunjin snorted.

“Can’t we just go inside already?” I asked, slowly massaging my throbbing temples.

“Yeah, but can you shimmy the lock on your door?” Minho requested. “I’m pretty sure it’s broken.”

I accommodated his request before the four of us walked into the restaurant with an air of nonchalance. Nothing but four friends since childhood deciding to eat out together for a gourmet meal. It reminded me of college when the four of us shared the same lecture, a one-time occurrence because Minho forgot a general education course, and we always ate together because it ended in the early evening.

Of course, there was always the matter of the other three using me to find the answers to our homework assignment because they didn’t feel like completing the calculations.

The hostess inside the restaurant greeted us, checking Hyunjin’s reservation before leading us to our table. “Do you see them?” Hyunjin asked, deciding not to be so discreet in the distracting way he moved his head around, surveying the restaurant landscape with a sharp eye.

“This is so stupid,” Changbin grimaced.

“Are you too cool to eat with us?” Minho joked, gasping when he noticed the free wine samples menu.

“I’ll look around,” I said. “Give me five minutes.”

“And then what?” Hyunjin asked even as I was already moving away, sticking to the outskirts of the finely decorated tables. According to Minho, Felix and Kara should have already been at the restaurant for half an hour, probably weighing the consequences of keeping their new affair a secret from the rest of us. But I had no intention of letting them sneak away with anything, determined to get to the bottom of whatever relationship Felix was attempting with Changbin’s little sister, the same person who had openly scorned and rejected Felix in the past. This really demonstrates just how powerful a crush can be when it involves someone as determined as Felix.

“Aha!” I murmured quietly, discovering the couple together near the private dining room at the back. Reaching for my cell phone, I sent Minho a quick text message, waiting for a moment or so before I could see the three boys carefully making their way to my hiding spot.

“Ridiculous,” Changbin muttered, but he let out a disappointed sigh when he saw his sister and Felix together. “I guess you were right.”

Changbin was squatting down in front of the display of plants, peeling back the branches to find a better view. “Damn, Changbin,” I said, reaching down to give his ass an appreciative slap. “Who are you trying to impress?”

“Keep your hands to yourself,” Changbin snapped at me. “It’s not my fault that Han’s flatter than his vocal pitch.”

“Burn,” Hyunjin remarked while I scoffed in response.

“Jisung is a great singer.”

“Yeah, the kids are so impressed,” Minho giggled, ignoring the glare I sent him over my shoulder.

“They can’t be dating,” Changbin said. “I would have known about this. Kara would have told me!”

“That definitely looks like a date to me,” Minho teased Changbin.

“Unless friends share five-star meals now,” Hyunjin commented, glancing at me. “Interested in eating out again tomorrow, Y/N?”

“Only if you pay,” I replied dryly, watching Felix and Kara with intent.

“I can’t stand this,” Changbin declared, attempting to blow our cover by rising to his full height.

I desperately tugged on his shirt. “They’ll see us!”

“I don’t care,” Changbin grunted, pulling away from me only to march down the staircase to where Felix and Kara were laughing together over a meal of what appeared to be filet mignon and cabernet.

“Should we watch or get involved?” I asked, grinning when Felix finally realized that Changbin had spotted them. The all-consuming look of existential dread passing across his features was well worth the price of admission, including an outrageous gratuity fee.

“Definitely watch,” Minho nodded, tossing an arm around my shoulders. “You did good, Y/N.”

“Unless Changbin causes a scene,” Hyunjin remarked.

“I hope he does because I can record it for Jisung later,” I said, letting out a satisfied grin when Changbin stopped at their table.

Minho was one step ahead of me, pressing the record button at the top of his phone. “Maybe we’ll become YouTube famous!”

“I can’t believe you told him,” Felix snapped at me later. The six of us were outside the restaurant, having decided to pull Changbin and Kara away from the reproachful eyes of the upper elite who wanted to dine in peace.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m looking out for you.”

“By outing me to Changbin?”

“Of course,” I nodded, watching as Kara received a stern lecture from her older brother. “You can’t honestly be considering a relationship with Kara?”

“Is there something wrong with that?” Felix asked.

“You must have a selective memory,” I said. “Or did you forget what happened in high school?”

“That was a long time ago!”

“She also used you during college. Don’t tell me you think she came around campus just for your company?”

Hyunjin, from somewhere to my right, let out a low whistle. Minho stood next to him, taking in the drama unfolding around him with eager eyes. “I don’t care about any of that!” Felix protested. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Felix,” I said, lowering my tone. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Well you’re doing a really bad job with that,” Felix snapped.

“It’s not because I don’t want things to work out,” I said. “I just know who she is and what she’s capable of.”

“Is that so?”

“You were too, Felix! Everything she ever did to you was always in an effort to hurt you. That’s why I have to interfere, to make sure that she doesn’t do anything like that!”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t care. You aren’t my real sister, so stop trying to act like it!”

His words were crushing and I suddenly felt equivalent to the world’s smallest person as I watched Felix walk away into the haze of city lights.

Jisung was sunshine and he once told me that he would do everything in his power to make me happy, even getting down on one knee to propose at our college graduation ceremony, nervous hands sliding a beautiful ring onto my finger. Jisung always knew when I was feeling sad or angry, dropping everything that he had been working on to make me feel better. Like in instances such as this, when my step-brother publicly disowns me, walking away without looking back once to assess the damage he had made of my fragile heart. “I deserved it,” I told Jisung, closing my eyes against his chest as I enjoyed the soothing water of the bath he prepared for me.

“No, you didn’t,” Jisung countered, wrapping his arms tightly around my middle. “You thought you were helping him.”

“I guess I have no right to interfere,” I said. “Even if I’m worried that Kara will only hurt him again.”

“And she might,” Jisung agreed. “But I think Felix can handle it. Sometimes, you forget that he’s all grown up.”

“I ruined our relationship,” I said. “Felix won’t ever talk to me again and Kara is probably mad at Changbin.”

“Felix can’t avoid you,” Jisung said. “You have the same friends.”

“Ha,” I snorted. “You don’t know Felix very well. If he sets his mind to something, then there’s nothing that can stop him.”

“Actually, I do know Felix, and that’s why I’m pretty sure he’ll call you any day now and ask to talk.”

I turned around in his arms, trying to see any hint of teasing in Jisung’s brown eyes. “Why do you think that?”

“Because Felix respects you, even if you make him mad,” Jisung said, surprising me with a gentle kiss. “He told me all the time when we were younger that he thinks you’re one of the coolest people he’s ever met.”

“Felix said that?”

“Yeah,” Jisung nodded. “And I completely agree.”

“You’re obligated to say that,” I said. “Marriage and shit.”

“But I’ve always meant it, Y/N,” Jisung insisted. “You have a really good heart and you always have our best intentions in mind, even if that means you feel the need to spy on your step-brother.”

“Now it sounds creepy,” I complained.

“I can’t imagine you dragging around Changbin, Minho, and Hyunjin, hiding behind tables in the middle of an expensive restaurant.”

“That’s funny because I can’t imagine you in an expensive restaurant at all.”

“Really?” Jisung grinned, digging his fingers into my sides. “Try saying that again.”

I squealed in his arms, pleading for mercy. “I thought you wanted to relax?”

“This was all for you,” Jisung said, pulling me onto his lap. “I think we should go to bed early.”

“I am tired,” I smirked.

His cock was hard against my lower back. “What if I let you ride my face?”

“Then you’ll be the best husband in the world.”

The following Saturday, Jisung’s prediction came true when Felix’s name flashed across my phone screen while I enjoyed lunch with Seungmin and Jeongin. “It’s Felix,” I hissed at them before taking the call. “Hello?”

“Y/N,” Felix’s deep voice greeted me on the other end. “I hope you’re not busy.”

“I’m just having lunch,” I said, waving my hand at Seungmin who was attempting to mouth imperceptible words at me from across the table.

“I want to apologize for the other night with Kara,” Felix said. “At dad’s house and at the restaurant.”

“I’m sorry too, Felix,” I said. “I shouldn’t have told Changbin about his sister.”

“No,” Felix sighed. “But Changbin deserves to know the truth. He called me the other day and told me that Kara had left the next morning. She didn’t even bother telling him where she was going.”

I felt my heartbreak for my step-brother. “I didn’t think she would do that.”

“You don’t have to be nice, Y/N,” Felix said. “Everything you said about Kara was true and I should’ve listened.”

“I never did any of that to teach you a lesson, Felix.”

“Yeah,” Felix murmured into the phone. “It doesn't matter anymore. Kara’s gone and I’ll have to move on.”

“But I still feel really bad,” I said. “Maybe we could all hang out tonight? Like we did before we had adult things to worry about.”

Felix chuckled. “I think that sounds nice.”

“Keep your hands away from the food,” I scolded Jisung, giving his ass a firm slap before directing him out of the kitchen. “This is for the party tonight!”

“But it smells good,” Jisung complained.

“You can have as much as you want later,” I said, frowning at Changbin from across the room. “Are you trying to break my mother’s vase?”

The older boy scowled at me. “I can’t reach, alright? You were the one who asked me to decorate.”

“Please help him,” I said, sending Jisung rushing to hang up the streamers before Changbin could possibly sabotage our apartment. The others were due to arrive at any moment and I was already unprepared, food still cooking and my husband and his friend proving to be completely inept at decorating. I wanted everything to be nice for Felix, but honestly? He shouldn’t expect much from this crew.

Graciously, the arrival of Hyunjin brought about an extra few inches of height, allowing the streamers to hang gracefully from the mantlepiece. “What would you do without me, Y/N?” he inquired innocently, handing me the cake he had brought from our cafe.

“I’d need to buy a step ladder,” I teased him, rushing back into the safety of the kitchen to avoid his retaliation. In the meantime, Jisung happily answered the door for our other guests, ushering them inside to crowd our living room. Sadly, our apartment was never meant to be large enough to accommodate this many guests, but it was strangely cozy with all of us together.

“It’s been a while,” Chan remarked to Changbin. “Why don’t we do this sort of thing anymore?”

“Beats me,” Changbin replied. “But Y/N has a nice selection of wine.”

“I’m glad that’s the reason you come around,” I remarked, bringing out the final tray of food to fill out the rest of the table. “Whenever Felix gets here we can eat.”

“He shouldn’t be so late,” Minho said, trying his best to sneak a cube of cheese from the corner.

“Patience my friend,” I said. “It will make everything taste so much better.”

“Not with your cooking,” Minho teased, protesting when I threw my oven mitt at him over the counter separating the kitchen from the dining room.

“You’ll never change,” I remarked.

“Why would you want me to?” Minho asked, ignoring my glare when he grabbed a handful of popcorn.

“Do you want to be suspended from my house?”

“Jisung would never allow it,” he said, whining at my husband. “Right, Sungie?”

Jisung looked back and forth between the two of us. “You two are sometimes worse than my kids at school.”

Before I could offer a compelling comeback, the ringing of our doorbell paused our conversation. The sound indicated Felix’s arrival and Seungmin was the first to greet him, holding him close as they entered the dining room. “Nice of you to join us,” I said, handing my step-brother a plate. “This is all for you.”

“I’m honored,” Felix said, accent thick as he abruptly pulled me into a vice-like grip that nearly knocked me off my feet.

“Too much,” I choked out.

“Don’t kill my wife,” Jisung joked, intervening before Felix could possibly squeeze any more oxygen from my lungs.

The remainder of the evening passed by with a nostalgic tone, the nine of us gathered together in the living room to watch anime on TV while Hyunjin complained about our newest hiree again. “Hey,” he said, snapping his fingers in my direction. “He already had two strikes. One more mess-up and he’s gone.”

“He’s just a kid, Hyunjin,” I said. “Remember when you used to work at Starbucks? I’m surprised you even managed to stay on for an entire year!”

Hyunjin protested loudly over the laughter of 8 other people who clearly remembered sitting in Starbucks on Campus just to watch Hyunjin mess-up orders while whining at the customers to slow down when he was in charge of the register. “He gave me a macchiato when I asked for an Americano,” Minho said.

“One time, Hyunjin closed the store an hour early because he forgot about our project,” Seungmin interjected much to Hyunjin’s chagrin who was now very much embarrassed.

Jisung pulled me closer to him on the chair next to the fireplace, watching our friends talk with obvious affection. “I think Felix is happy.”

I nodded my agreement, observing him from afar. “We did a good job.”

“You did a good job,” Jisung corrected, leaning in closer to whisper directly into my ear. “I love you, Y/N.”

“Love you more,” I said, gripping tightly to Jisung’s hand with no intention of ever letting go because our hold on another had never lessened from the very first day we met as kids, unaware that we would be sharing the rest of our forever together.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #han jisung #han jisung fanfic #han jisung smut #stray kids han #han fanfic #han smut

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years

Note

For the music genre prompt: 90's grunge anthems (bc it's me and I can't help it) with all the plaid and ripped jeans and greasy hair and questionable chemical habits 💖💖💖

(oh hey girl! you know I gotchu fam. Grunge for life! Also don’t do drugs or drink, kids, it’s not cool.)

tw: marijuana use, underage drinking (no dangerous situations tho)

Song: Miserable by Lit

---

Geralt frowned into his can of beer, stolen from his dad’s relatively abandoned mini-fridge in the garage. He was definitely not watching the kid across the street do his homework through his open bedroom window window. He definitely wasn’t glaring the sophomore down as he sipped at the sad excuse for alcohol in his hand.

“You’re going to kill him if you brood at him like that for long enough,” Yen said, climbing up the rose trellis to join him on the roof. Her hair was a huge mess, as usual. His was probably no better; he hadn’t washed it in, what, a week? Whatever. Conserving water and all that good shit.

“Shut up.”

“You make me come...

You make me complete...

You make me completely miserable!”

Yennefer sang a few lines of the song in her slightly off-key alto and bumped Geralt’s shoulder with her own. “Wanna toke up?”

“My Dad’s home.”

“So’s Eskel,” she shrugged. She had a point. Geralt’s older brother was halfway through a college degree at a nice school and he still couldn’t figure out that it was a bad idea to smoke weed in your poorly ventilated first-floor bedroom. The bedroom right below your father’s room.

“Fair point. Pass it,” Geralt gestured. Yennefer lit the joint and passed it to him. “He’s just...cute? Is that the right word?”

“He bathes regularly and has none of the same tastes as you,” Yen chuckled. She tugged at the rolled-up sleeve of Geralt’s blue-and-black plaid shirt before gesturing at his straight, greasy white hair. “Although I have heard people whispering that he has a special fascination with your hair.”

“So do lots of people,” Geralt shrugged. Plenty of girls had asked him out based on the weird white-hair-amber-eyes genetic mishap thing. He blamed the popularity of the latest X-Man comics and the heavy-handed romance between Jean Grey and Cyclops.

Fuckin’ X-Men.

“No I mean like...well, just ask around at school.”

Geralt took the joint from his best friend and French-inhaled just to show off. She punched him in the arm.

“Fuck off,” he laughed. He laughed loud.

“Geralt?” a voice called distantly. His head snapped up. Jaskier was squinting out of his bedroom window, his eyes scanning Geralt’s front yard. Yennefer waved unhelpfully and her companion tried desperately to pin her arms back down to her sides. The underclassman saw them on the roof and waved, beaming. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled: “Hey guys! Room for one more?”

“Sure!” Yen replied. Geralt’s head sank into his hands.

“You’re such a bitch, Yen.”

She hummed a few bars of Miserable as Jaskier jogged across the street and clambered up the trellis as if he’d done it a thousand times before and this wasn’t their first clandestine nighttime meeting.

Geralt never really settled into suburbia as well as his brothers did, still used to the quiet loneliness of farm life, but his neighbors made it bearable. Yen was two houses down on the left and Jaskier had recently moved in across the street. He was two grades younger than Geralt and cute as fuck.

So here was our protagonist, sitting between his best friend and his secret crush. Stoned. Tired. A little buzzed. “Shit.”

“What’s shit?” Yen asked, smirking.

“You know exactly.”

“Oh,” Jaskier’s face fell and he leaned back. “Did I invite myself over at the wrong time? I can go. I didn’t mean to interrupt if you guys were-”

Yen’s burst of laughter interrupted Jaskier’s apology. The younger boy was blushing like mad and Geralt couldn’t get enough of the precious sight. It was adorable. He was angelic.

“Oh, Geralt and I are not-” she snorted and made for the trellis herself, lowering herself off the roof, still laughing. “We don’t do that.”

“What was so funny?” Jaskier blushed again. Darker. Geralt was in heaven.

“You’re cute.”

“Huh?”

“Sorry - I - I’m sorry, I’m stoned,” the older boy stated. Jaskier giggled. Fuck me that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, Geralt’s high brain registered distantly. His hand inched towards Jaskier’s where it rested on the roof. Jaskier didn’t pull away. “You’re cute.”

“I didn’t know you were gay.”

“Bi.”

“Oh, cool. I’m gay.”

Geralt nearly choked on his tongue. But then Jaskier’s mouth was on his and oh...that was nice. When they pulled apart for air Geralt gave a dopey grin, “Cool.”

SEND ME A MUSIC GENRE AND GET A FICLET

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sunnypogue · 4 years

Text

post grad - part one (jj maybank x oc)

pairing: jj maybank x original character

synopsis: she’s your modern day college graduate: good at school, bad at the whole after-school thing. recent grad margo jean walker was told her whole life she was destined for greatness - straight a’s, top of her class, full ride to columbia - until she graduated. now, she’s hiding out in her grandmother’s outer banks estate, attempting to figure out what her “life plan after college” is supposed to look like. on her journey to self-realization, she finds herself enveloped in the life of jj maybank - a high school dropout, bumming with his childhood friends in a beat up shack on the coast. two people, one town, zero plan.

warnings: drinking/cursing - probably an eternal warning with my writing.

a/n: straight up haven’t written a thing in fandom in like, five years. jj maybank (a perfect character) has singlehandedly dragged me out of my fic writing slump - that’s one inspirational motherfucker.

part one brought to you by that one opening scene where jj was mowing a lawn shirtless. cinematic gold.

anyways, this is a classic “gifted girl is told she’s gifted her whole life and then she gets out of school and realizes she has no idea what the fuck she’s doing so she runs from her problems” meets her antithesis + his pals. there will definitely be some stronger warnings down the line, if you catch my drift.

I’m also 1000% team “JJ’s name is short for John because it was too confusing having two John’s around so they compromised with JJ and John B” thanks.

pogues + kooks featured are all 21+. it’s called post grad for a reason, folks.

enjoy xx.

_______________________________________________

post grad

“Margo, if you lay out any longer, you’ll freckle up. Your nose is completely covered!”

Margo hummed, wriggling her body enough to face in the general direction of her grandmother’s voice. She blindly stuck a hand out from her chaise chair, slapping aimlessly until she felt the familiar bill of her worn baseball cap, before dropping it onto her face.

“Is that better, Mimi?” Her voice, rough from disuse, was muffled from behind the cap.

“Slightly. It would be nicer if it wasn’t that damn Yankees hat.”

Margo grinned, hearing the exasperated amusement in her grandmother’s voice. Although a long time resident on the coast of North Carolina, her Mimi still carried a torch for her hometown Boston teams, often recounting fond memories of nosebleed seats at Fenway, or listening to Bruins games on the radio. She claimed one of the reasons she remained on the Outer Banks is that she couldn’t bear to show her face back in Boston, knowing her granddaughter was a Yankees fan.

Margo couldn’t help but poke fun at her any chance she got.

“Sorry Mimi. Would you rather I freckle?”

Mimi peered over the rims of her cat-eye sunglasses, observing from a safe, shaded perch. “You know, neither of these things would be a problem if your mother hadn’t married your father. You’d be freckle-free and a Sox fan, without a doubt.”

Margo ripped her cap off, squinting towards her grandmother. “My heart would always find their way back to the Yanks. And I think my freckles give me character!”

Mimi pushed her sunglasses back up, glancing back down at the dog eared book in her lap. “You got the attitude from your father too.”

Margo grinned, white teeth splitting across her warm face. “Now that’s a bald faced lie, Mimi. You know exactly who I got the attitude from.”

A loud laugh burst from the older woman, setting her forgotten book to the side. “Yes, unfortunately I do. I was hoping I could pawn another one of your traits off to your father’s side, but I suppose I have no one else but myself to blame for your…,” She paused, looking for the proper words, “…quick wit.” She drawled, her muddled Boston accent blending with the Carolina.

It was Margo’s turn to laugh, a similar burst to her grandmother. She swung her legs off the chaise chair, before standing and padding over to her grandmother’s shaded spot.

“I think I got my affinity for gin & tonics from your side too.” Margo quipped, grabbing Mimi’s empty cup. “Refill?”

Mimi sighed, glancing at the glass tumbler in her granddaughter’s hand. “I suppose. Lighter on the gin this time though, dear. You about knocked me out with that last one.”

Margo laughed, turning towards the screen door that lead inside, “I got my heavy hand from you, too!”

She could feel her grandmother’s eyes roll from behind her.

Margo made her way to the wet bar, a familiar and friendly sight in her grandmother’s home. She quickly went through the motions of making two gin & tonics, mixing Hendricks with Fevertree, before topping with two limes – the only true way to enjoy a G&T. As she moved to retreat back to her sunny spot on the chaise, her stomach grumbled, reminding her it was time to eat something, or her heavy hand might knock her out too.

She pivoted towards the kitchen, setting the tumblers down on the island before venturing into the walk-in pantry to grab a snack. As she exited the pantry, her peripherals caught something moving in her front yard, relatively unusual for a Saturday afternoon. She turned to face the floor to ceiling windows in the foyer, hands clutching an unopened back of pretzel sticks, before squinting to make out the figure on her Mimi’s front lawn.

Outside her grandmother’s home, was a man, mowing the space rather methodically. He was tall and tan, and Margo could almost describe his shirtless upper half as glistening, like a bad paperback romance. The arm of his silver aviators were clenched between his teeth, as he pushed the mower through the thick grass, muscles flexing.

The sound of crushed plastic startled Margo from her gaze. She swiped her forearm across her face almost instinctively, confirming she wasn’t actually salivating from watching the mystery landscaper at work. Tossing the now-crushed pretzel sticks to the counter, she quickly grabbed the melting drinks, and hustled outside to her grandmother.

“Took you long enough, Margo Jean. I thought college would have made you more efficient in your cocktail-“

“Mimi.” Margo interrupted, clutching a drink in each fist. “Mimi, who – who IS that outside your house?”

“What?” Mimi startled, sitting up in her seat. “What do you mean who’s outside my house?”

Margo sat next to her grandmother, passing her a drink. “The guy mowing your lawn – who is he? I’ve never seen him before.”

Margo watched as her grandmother sighed, settling back into her seat. “Oh, you mean John.” Her grandmother raised the cup to her lips, taking a long sip.

“What do you mean, John?!” Margo squawked. “I’ve been living here for a month and I’ve never, ever seen him before!”

Mimi peered over her sunglasses again, looking at her flustered granddaughter. “Darling, are you alright? You look flushed. Maybe you should stay out of the sun.”

“I’m fine, Mimi. It just surprised me, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting to see a random man in our front lawn.”

Mimi hummed. “Honey, he’s harmless. He’s been helping me out for a couple years now – a local boy, from town. He’s usually here on Thursdays, while you’re at work.”

“Oh.” Margo took a long sip of her drink, relaxing a bit. While she was partially worked up by how upsettingly attractive the landscaper was, she had to admit she was a bit frightened by the sight of a random man on her grandmother’s property. It had been just her and Mimi at the estate for the past month, and a new face was a bit shocking.

“You know, I think he’s about your age. Sweet boy, always offering to help around the place after your grandfather passed.”

Margo placed a comforting hand on Mimi’s arm, sensing the distress in her voice at the mention of her deceased husband. Mimi patted Margo’s hand briefly, before standing and clapping twice.

“Come! Come on, this is a great opportunity.” Mimi flitted into the house.

Margo scrambled to her feet. “What do you mean, a great opportunity?”

“A great opportunity to meet some people your age. I know it hasn’t been easy, but John is just the nicest boy, and I think it’ll be good to have a familiar face other than mine on the island.”

“No! Mimi, I don’t need more familiar faces.” Margo ran to catch her grandmothers’ thin arm, slowing her progression towards the front door. “Please, I know plenty of people here. I have you, and Jennifer, and Mr. Picard. That’s all I really need, for now.”

Mimi pulled a face. “Sweetheart, I love you dearly, but that was a pathetic showing right there. You’re going to cite your boss and the neighborhood gate guard as your friends?”

Margo matched her Mimi’s face, scrunching her nose. “Look, I never said they were close friends. But I know people! I know people. I don’t need more people.”

“Nonsense. Now, come on, let me introduce you. Oh, don’t give me that face, Margo Jean, you won’t be betrothed to the guy after a simple introduction.” Mimi firmly grasped Margo’s hand, tugging her towards the front door. “Now, be nice. Don’t give him any of that New York attitude you love to display towards everyone in this town.”

“Mimi, I thought we agreed my attitude came directly from you. Don’t blame my – hey!” Margo stumbled through the now-open front door, coming to a graceless stop on the first porch step.

The mower came to a stop, with the still-shirtless operator turning towards the front door.

“Mrs. S! Anything I can help you with?” The landscaper yelled from the far edge of the lawn.

“Oh, no John, thank you! Do you mind coming over here for a second?” Mimi gripped Margo’s shoulders tightly, as she felt her granddaughter jerk away.

“Jesus, Mimi, you didn’t even let me cover up.” Margo hissed, her eyes trained forward on the male ambling his way up the long path to the front door.

“Oh stop, you two are practically matching with your outfits right now.” Mimi glanced at her granddaughter’s light blue swimsuit, before looking at John’s outfit, consisting of black shorts and a pair of ratty boots. “Even playing field.”

Margo huffed, crossing her arms across her stomach. “This is not how I wanted to be –“

“What’s up Mrs. S?” John asked, stopping at the bottom of the steps. His silver aviators were hooked into the waistband of his shorts. “Everything alright?”

“Oh yes John, everything is fine. I just wanted to introduce you to my granddaughter.” Mimi squeezed Margo’s shoulders. “She’s in from New York and staying with me for a while.”

John laughed, his sharp teeth settling into an attractive grin as he glanced at Margo. “And how the hell did you end up with a granddaughter from New York? She not going to let me put up the Sox flag for you this year?”

Mimi snorted. “Margo’s a good girl, she would never deprive her grandmother of such a thing. We try to forgive her for her New Yorker-tendencies – she didn’t stand a chance with her father’s early indoctrination.”

“You know, I am right here. Mind if I speak for myself?” Margo huffed.

Mimi squeezed Margo’s shoulders again, continuing her conversation, “Anyways, John, this is Margo Jean. Margo Jean,” Mimi paused, gesturing to the boy. “This is John.”

Margo stepped forward, shaking her shoulders out of her grandmother’s death grip before sticking her hand out. “Hi, John. Margo Jean Walker.”

He grinned, grabbing her hand in his, joining the two for an uncomfortably sweaty handshake. “Margo Jean Walker. That’s a lot of name for one girl.”

Margo released her grip, looking down her nose towards him. “Well you don’t have to call me all three. Margo works just fine.”

His grin intensified, as he matched her stare. “Margo Jean Walker.” He repeated. “Alright. I’m JJ. No one around here calls me John. Well, except Mrs. S.”

“It’s a nice name, John, I don’t see why all of you kids have to go by names that aren’t your given names. It makes things confusing for old biddies like myself.” Mimi looked at the pair in distain. “Margo’s always been Margo – the consistency is nice.”

“Margo Jean Walker.” JJ hummed, eyes dancing over the girl. “Consistent New Yorker.”

Margo and Mimi let out their matching laughs simultaneously. “Yeah, that’s it.” Margo giggled. “Consistent New Yorker.” She popped her hands on her hips, offering the boy a toothy smile, her eyes squinting. “Well, it was nice to meet you, JJ-not-John. Thanks for helping Mimi out. Saves me from having to figure out…that.” She gestured towards the idle mower.

He followed her eyes, glancing back at the machine he left at the top of the lawn, mentally snorting at the thought of the bikini-clad girl pushing the mower across a half-acre of grass. “Yeah, it’s probably for the best that – oh.” He turned back as he spoke, just catching a glimpse of her cheeky bikini bottoms and long hair, as she slipped inside.

Mimi tutted, waving a dismissive hand in the direction of her granddaughter. “Don’t mind her, she’s just bent-out-of-shape because of the move. She’ll warm up more, eventually.”

JJ sighed, sliding his sunglasses back on. “No problem, Mrs. S. Need anything else done around here? Just about finished with your lawn.”

Mimi patted her frosted blonde hair, quickly glancing over the state of her lawn. “Looks great, hon. Nothing else today, but I’m thinking of expanding my garden in the backyard.” She took a long sip of her drink, before continuing. “Are you available to take on a project this summer?”

JJ faltered, thinking about the time constraints a project would have on his summer. He had to consider things – his friends, his surfing, his three other jobs. “Uh, well –“

“I’d rather you take the job, John,” Mimi started. “I don’t particularly want strangers around my house, especially if my granddaughter’s going to be frying herself poolside all summer,” Mimi scoffed. “Her poor skin.”

JJ paused, considering the pros of working in the company of Mrs. S’s leggy, bikini-clad granddaughter all summer. “I mean, that sounds –“

The older woman shoved her cat-eye sunglasses into her hair, taking three steps down her porch to be eye level with the blonde, who remained stationary at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’ll pay you double.”

A tan hand flew out, forearm adorned with tattered bracelets, freckles and the occasional scar. “You’ve got it, Mrs. S.”

Mimi smiled, primly shaking the boy’s hand. “Great. You’ll start next week, Saturday morning?”

JJ suppressed a groan, trying not to think about the morning boat ride he’d undoubtably be missing out on. “Sure, sounds great. How long do you think it’ll –“

“A couple weekends, maybe. I won’t hoard you the whole summer, John. God knows the other ladies in the neighborhood would riot.” Mimi grinned, patting his cheek. “And they already don’t like me very much, so let’s try to keep them on my good side, alright?”

JJ exhaled, relieved he wasn’t signing his summer away. “Absolutely, Mrs. S, although I can’t think of a single reason why someone wouldn’t like you.” He finished, offering a shit-eating grin towards the older woman.

She barked out a laugh, flapping a hand around as she turned to open the front door and grab her purse. She pulled a handful of bills out of her envelope wallet, pressing them into his palm. “Here, you kiss-ass. For today and a cash-advance for selling your soul to me for a couple weekends.” She grinned as his blue-eyes widened, staring at the money. “Now get out of here, enjoy the rest of your day.”

JJ’s feet faltered, as he started walking towards the lawn mower, his head still looking back at the front door. “Th-thanks, Mrs. S! Yeah, I’ll see you next weekend. Thank you! Thanks!”

Mimi smiled, wiggling her fingers at the boy as he rushed to put the mower away. “See you Saturday, John.”

#outer banks #jj maybank #obx #obx jj #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #rudy pankow #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x oc #outer banks netflix #obx netflix #post grad

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starlessskies94 · 4 years

Text

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

Note: Sorry Ellie :(

Chapter Four

Ellie was tired. She’d barely slept since Joel’s attack and whenever she did, she only ever found herself back there. Pinned to the floor and forced to watch as those fuckers slowly tortured him, as his screams echoed in her head till she woke in a cold sweat. It had been a couple of weeks since she’d heard that Joel had been sent home but she’d done everything she could to avoid crossing paths with the man. She was already carrying enough guilt without seeing the vacant look in his eyes. She knew it would just make her feel a thousand times worse. In her mind this had all happened because of her. The Fireflies had only gone after Joel because of what he had done to protect her. She had wanted to be angry for so long but now it just seemed pointless. How could she be mad at Joel for something he didn’t even remember doing?! He didn’t know her, she was now just a stranger that had been a part of the rescue that brought him back to Jackson as far as he was concerned.

Even now the girl felt numb, it was the first time in days that she actually managed to venture from her room without instantly wanting to retreat back, to once again shut out the world. But she had a job to do and she was determined to do it. If not for her own sake, then for her mother’s.

“Okay that’s done, what’s next?” Dina asked pulling her girlfriend from her thoughts. Ellie looked back in her direction, moving to the table by the front of the barn for the papers her mom had written for her. “Feed, I think...you remember who has what?”

The young brunette scoffed cockily with a smug grin. “Of course I remember!” She dismissed with a wave of a hand as she walked towards the feed room. While Ellie just rolled her eyes as she followed. “Rightttt, because I'm sure Max didn’t write it all down for you? TWICE!” She could only laugh as Dina flipped her off walking through the door.

Later on as the two finished up tending to the last of the horses, heads bowed and noses snuffling in buckets, it quickly became quiet. All except the sound of the animals slurping and chomping at their breakfast. Ellie found it strangely calming as she and Dina sat and waited for them to finish before continuing on with their jobs.

“How’s Ada?” Dina asked quietly with her head leaning on Ellie’s shoulder. “Not great, I told her to take a couple days off.” She sighed heavily. Her mother had been holding it in, pretending she was able to cope, that she was strong enough to deal with everything that was happening. In truth, Ada blamed herself just as much as her daughter did for what happened to Joel. Perhaps even more so, considering she had been right by his side at the time, supporting his every decision only to now watch him suffer the consequences of them alone. Ellie had had the idea of giving her mom some time at home away from the town gossip and the constant looks, pitiful or otherwise.

The teen knew from first hand experience what it was like to be the talk of the town and she wanted to spare her mother from as much of that as she could...even if it was just a couple of a days.

“Ohh so that’s why we’re on yard duty then?” Dina yawned. Her arms reaching out above her head as she stretched and rose to her feet to peer over Japan’s stable door. The gelding nickering affectionately when she spotted her.

“Yeah but it’s not that bad; you get to spend all day with your boy.”

“That’s true; isn’t that right baby?” She cooed patting Japan softly on his neck as the gelding whined, almost agreeing with his owner.

“I swear you love that horse more than me.”

“I do...but you come in at a close second.”

“Gee thanks.” The redhead mumbled sarcastically with folded arms.

Ellie smiled holding back a laugh when the horse rubbed his feed covered nose against Dina’s arm, her girlfriend yelping in surprise at the mess slobbered against her clothes.

“Oh you think you that’s funny do you!” She gasped. “Yeah I do, whaddya do gonna do huh?” She taunted in amusement.

“Oh I’ll show you! Come here!” Ellie laughed slowly backing away as Dina advanced on her, then suddenly pounced, smearing the muck across her girlfriend’s jacket. Ellie flailing in a feeble attempt to get away.

“Ew you’re so fucking gross!” She giggled out breathlessly, shaking her arms as she tried miserably to clean herself up.

“Eh you love me!” Dina moved to wrap her arms around Ellie’s shoulders, her eyes staring deep into hers, it felt oddly familiar to how they stood at the party that night they first kissed. It seemed so long ago now. But Ellie would always be grateful for it. The only difference was now; was that there were no more doubts. No more nerves of hesitation. Ellie didn’t even have to think about it this time as she pulled her closer with hands placed on her waist.

“Yeah. I do.” She whispered as the two leaned in, lips meeting in a kiss. Their noses brushed as they slowly pulled apart, lost in their own bubble of bliss and happiness. If Ellie couldn’t have her family right now, she was pretty damn grateful for Dina. The girl smiling sweetly in return as Ellie decided right then and there, that there was no doubt this girl was the fucking love of her life. The brunette pressed another kiss to the tip of Ellie’s nose before pulling away.

“Love you too babe, now come on. Your mom will kill us if we don’t get this done.” Ellie nodded silently before following, the two moving to start their next job of cleaning the tack.

They’d just gotten the cleaning supplies together, about to sit down at their work bench, when the sound of tapping and shuffling steps caught their attention.

“Oh hey there girls. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt but I was looking for Tommy. I’m supposed to meet him here...is he around?”

Ellie froze like a deer in headlights at the man looking down at them from the doorway of the barn.

It was Joel and it was like looking at a ghost. He stood with a cane in his right hand after growing strong enough to no longer need his crutches. But it was clear his bad leg would never fully heal and it was a fact that still made Ellie angry. He looked exhausted. His face covered in near healed cuts and fading bruises. His beard was bushy as ever but some patches were shorter, where the injuries to his face were slowly scabbing over. It was the same for the dark mop of hair on his head that he’d let grow out over the past year. Shorter in parts and left uneven, probably to give it time to grow again. Ellie wasn’t sure.

She felt numb looking at the same man she’d once considered a father, who looked at her now as though she were a stranger. Although she supposed that’s because; to Joel, she was. Dina thankfully seemed to sense her girlfriend’s unease and rose to her feet to answer for the both of them, while Ellie herself just continued to stare.

“It’s okay, Tommy left this early morning to go check on a patrol route just outside the wall. But he’s due to be back soon if you want to wait.” She offered and Ellie felt like punching her.

What was she thinking?! That five minutes standing together in the barn would be enough to bring back Joel’s memories. The teen gave her knowing look, almost apologising with her eyes. But Ellie wanted to respect her mother’s wishes and if she was being honest, she agreed with the idea to give Joel time to process everything.

“You sure? I wouldn’t wanna get under your feet.” He said with a small smile, trying to lean his weight on his good leg. His fist tightening around the cane as he balanced himself. “No, it’s no problem at all. You can come see the horses too. Might as well seeing as one of them is yours.” Dina smiled politely.

It seemed that was enough to convince the man as he hobbled over to the stable Dina was stood by. A large bay gelding thoroughbred twitched his ears and reached over the door to sniff at Joel’s jacket the closer he got.

“Hey there fella.” Joel murmured. The horse responding affectionately as he nuzzled against the hand raised to stroke his nose.

“That’s Duke. He’s your boy.” Dina said. Almost pulling Ellie to stand closer to the door by Joel by her sleeve. Her feet dragging along the floor as she froze again, her eyes never leaving Joel as he smiled at Duke.

“That right? Well probably explains why he recognises me, I wish I could say the same boy.” It was mumbled but both Dina and Ellie heard, noticing the sadness that creeped along Joel’s face the longer he looked up at the large animal. Thankfully it seemed to pass quickly when his eyes glanced back at the girls beside him.

“I think I know you two...Ella right?” He pointed to Ellie and she almost jumped from her skin when the older man addressed her. Her hands anxiously pulling at the sleeves of her jacket.

“Errm...Ellie.” She quietly corrected. “Annd this...this is Dina. My girlfriend, we were part of the group that brought you back to Jackson.” Her hands were shaking the whole time she spoke and when her words were finished, her throat was dry and she almost coughed to rid the lump that was forming. But Joel just smiled in that same old Joel way that he did. She was thankful for the fact that at least the attack hadn’t taken that from him.

“Well thank you Ellie and Dina, I’m real grateful. You two seem like good kids.” Ellie almost beamed from the feeling of getting praise from Joel again after so long. It took her back to Pittsburgh all over again, being taught how to shoot. The pride of knowing she was doing a good job, Joel had said so back at Bill’s. When he’d jumped down to join Ada by the road she’d meant what she’d said to him.

‘I won’t let you down.’

Except now she had and she felt more than guilt as she looked at Joel beside her. But he seemed so content, fussing Duke with a lazy smile as he did. It was strange to miss a man that was standing right in front of her.

“Hey uh...meant to ask before but uh...you wouldn't happen to have a horse named Callus here would ya?” Joel asked suddenly and Ellie’s heart almost stopped instantly as her eyes widened slightly. Once again Dina noticed straight away as her hand slipped into Ellie’s to try to ground her.

“No, I don’t think so. Why are you remembering something?” The young brunette asked gently.

Joel thought for a second before shaking his head.

“Nah, just the name kept coming to me. Probably nothing. Kind of a ridiculous name for a horse anyway.” He chuckled and Ellie felt her heart ache.

“Well I think I’ve kept you young ladies from your work long enough. I’d hate for y'all to get in trouble on my account. I’ll try catching Tommy by the gate on his way back.” he shuffled on his feet to turn back towards the door, his weight held firmly on his cane. “Sure no problem, it was nice talking to you.” Dina said and Joel nodded in response then waved at the girls as he disappeared back towards the town.

Ellie watched silently as he left. All the while Dina held her hand, her soft eyes looking back to the redhead when Joel was gone. Her hand slipped from Ellie’s and wrapped around her in a hug.

“Babe, you okay?” She whispered. She could see Ellie’s eyes welling, her lips trembling as she slowly shook her head.

“I just want to go home.”

#joel and ellie #Joel Miller #joel miller x oc #the last of us 2 #the last of us #the last of us part ii #fanfic #Starlesskies writes

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fairyqueenofthedragons · 4 years

Text

Witch in the Woods

A bit (lot) late but life happens. Thanks to Library Forest for giving me the inspo to write more for this :)

(Find Chapter One with a search of “Fk ch 1″ on my blog)

Come chat with me on discord: https://discord.gg/nwwcSQSUjh

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Seth slunk through the bushes and trees until he reached a faint crooked path.

He was glad that there hadn’t been any brambles, that would’ve sucked. But he’d finally gotten on the path, even if it was just a small one. Barely there, like animals had wandered through here enough to cut a path but not enough to clear it.

He paused on the path, studying his sleeves for ticks. There didn’t seem to be any, he’d basically drenched himself in bug spray so hopefully that worked well enough.

He hadn’t seen any ticks so far, so high hopes!

He stooped then and stacked some rocks into a small pyramid to mark the point where he joined the path.

He was pretty sure he’d be able to find his way back regardless, but better safe then sorry. If he did end up taking too long, then he might get caught by Grandpa.

He hummed as he rummaged through his cereal box, studying the compass he pulled out.

The path seemed to be running northeast, though he’d started off heading east. The undergrowth was getting thicker though, so the path was a good reason to head off course a little. It would be far easier than trying to cut through the shrubbery with his pocketknife.

His dad said no to buying him a machete.

Life was unfair.

Seth straightened once more and studied the path.

He shivered despite the warmth, it seemed almost foreboding. The tall trees stood close together, letting through very little sunlight. The bushes waved, and he eyed the large spider crawling up the side of the tree. A gnarled black tree with thorny leaves almost seemed to reach for him.

The forest almost seemed alive, but that was silly. He wasn’t living in a fairy tale.

Seth straightened. It was fine! He was going exploring in a cool forest and he’d bring back a shiny rock or something to show Kendra that it was perfectly safe.

He paused, glancing at the rocks he’d collected.

Yeah none of them were shiny enough for Kendra, she liked sparkly, pretty things.

He’d find something.

He definitely did not jump when something rustled in the bushes but did dig out a small pair of plastic binoculars from his cereal box.

He scanned the area slowly but didn’t see anything interesting.

He shrugged and headed down the path, not making it twenty feet before an animal emerged from the undergrowth onto the path.

He froze, it was a porcupine. It’s bristles gleamed in the faint light and it’s eyes seemed too sharp and intelligent.

It studied him for a moment, then started towards him.

He quickly backed up, it’s slender quills shiny and sharp and very very close.

Weren’t animals supposed to be afraid of humans? Maybe it had rabies? That was bad right? Kendra would definitely tell on him if he got bit by an animal with rabies.

Maybe it just didn’t see him, he was perfectly camouflaged with his camouflage shirt after all!

He stopped backing up and straightened up, trying to look big. He stomped a foot hard and growled at the porcupine.

It stared at him for a long moment, seeming almost unimpressed a it’s nose twitched, but then it turned away and scurried off the path.

He let out a breath, that had been a bit scary. If he’d gotten bitten, or worse covered in those quills, he would’ve had no chance of hiding his excursion into the woods.

And worse, Kendra would stop him from coming back out.

He wished Kendra had come, she might’ve screamed, or spouted some boring fact about porcupines that would’ve made it seem tame. He could have made fun of her instead of being frightened.

Not that he was very frightened of course, but it felt… exposed being stared down by the porcupine with all those bristling quills. He should probably be careful to not step on one in the undergrowth.

He wavered for a moment, wondering if he should head back. He’d come a long way though, and if he went back with nothing to show for it Kendra would say she told him so and then make him stay in the yard for the week.

He nodded, he needed to find something interesting first, to show off to her. Then he’d go home. It wouldn’t be hard to find his way back.

Seth headed off down the trail again. He studied the trees and growth as he passed, noting the trees with moss and lichen growing on them (don’t some mosses only grow on one side of the tree? Or is that all of them? Or something else? He swears Kendra talked about it on the car ride). There was ivy twisting around some trees too, he’d have to be careful cause they might be poison ivy.

He frowned as the path forced, before checking his compass. The right one went northwest, and the other due east. Seth decided to stick with East.

Slowly the trees began to space out, and the shrubs grew lower and more spread out. The forest slowly grew brighter as well, and he was able to see around much further.

He was studying a cool red bird that was watching him from a tree when he noticed something strange.

There was what seemed to be a wall of ivy just sitting in the woods to the left of the path.

That certainly seemed interesting, maybe there was something cool there he could bring back to show Kendra. That would show her, she’d definitely come along next time and he could show her the ivy wall.

He grinned and headed off the path.

The dense undergrowth almost seemed to cling to his legs, the plants darker than the rest of the forest, and he was pretty sure that the one bush was covered in poisonous berries. He shoved through it all, pausing by a tree as he realized that the wall of ivy was actually some sort of structure, overgrown with ivy.

He shifted, something seemed off.

The forest was quiet.

He shook his head, it was fine, it was just some ivy. Honestly why was he so worried.

He trudged closer, studying the ivy. He wasn’t sure what the structure (a shed maybe?) was made of, probably wood but he couldn’t see it beneath the ivy.

He managed to walk around the shed, and faltered when he stumbled onto another path, with a circle that stopped right in front of the opening to the shed.

“Hail, young master,” crooned a silky voice.

Seth spun, looking into the shed and seeing an old woman.

He resisted the urge to shudder. She looked bad.

She was old and wrinkled, with matted white hair that almost seemed yellow. In her wrinkled hands she clutched a knotted rope that seemed to be covered in blood and saliva.

Seth wrinkled his nose as he glanced at his face, trying not to cringe when she smiled, showing missing teeth. Her filmy bloodshot eyes were locked on him and her smile stretched the purple scab on her face, which was matched by more on her arms.

She stood up, supporting herself on the stump.

“What brings you to my home?” the woman asked.

Her voice was lovely, like a song, and did not match her appearance.

He swallowed, noting how tall she was despite her state.

“I’m just out for a walk,” he said carefully. “Do you live out here?”

She nodded, “I do indeed. Would you care to come inside for some tea?”

Seth almost stepped forward, almost, but he caught himself.

Something was off.

“No, sorry, I need to get back in time for lunch or my sister will be upset.”

A fool proof plan: blame Kendra. It always worked for getting out of stuff at school.

“Oh of course,” she crooned. “It’s just been so long since I had a guest. Strange for you to be wandering about alone, what about your sister?”

“She’s doing summer homework,” Seth said immediately. “And it’s my grandpa’s land so I get to wander some.”

“Oh?” she said. “You’re old Stan’s kids then?”

“You know my grandpa then?” Seth asked.

“Oh, certainly,” she grinned. “He’s my landlord after all.”

Seth nodded sagely, “Well nice to meet you, what’s your name?”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to not introduce yourself first?” She chided lightly.

Something told Seth he shouldn’t give her his name, he was reminded of the old tales from his grandpa.

“I’m-“ Seth wracked his brain for a name. “I’m Aaron.”

Sorry Aaron his friend from school, first name he could think of.

“A pleasure, Aaron,” she said with gleaming eyes. “I do wish I had known you’d be stopping by, I must look frightful.”

“You look fine,” Seth lied. “Ms…”

She ignored his question, reaching behind her stump.

“Let me show you something interesting, in apology for being so unprepared for a guest.”

“I’ll send a note ahead of time next time.”

She smiled, somehow looking dangerous despite her appearance.

Seth blinked at what she pulled out from behind the stump. A little wooden man.

It was less than a foot tall and made entirely of dark wood. It was plain, not clothes or painted features, just wood held together with tiny gold hooks where the joints would be. It had a stick in it’s back, that the woman took hold of.

Placing a paddle on her lap, she began to make the puppet dance by moving the stick. It was rhythmic and reminded Seth of Kendra when she did tap dancing, before she picked up piano.

“That’s a cool… puppet,” he said.

He should really get out of here, it felt wrong.

A rat scurried behind her stump and Seth looked away.

“It’s not a puppet, dear Aaron, it’s a limberjack.”

“Where’s his ax?”

“Not a lumberjack, a limberjack,” she chided. “It’s known by other names, a clog doll, or a jigger, perhaps a dancing dan?”

Seth shrugged.

“Well, I call him Mendigo. He keeps me company in this old shack of mine. Why don’t you come over, I’ll let you try him out.”

“I better not,” he said, something was very off. Her eyes were too bright, her smile too sharp, the doll too smooth. “I need to get back; my sister won’t be happy if I get delayed by crazy old witches in the woods.”

Her eyes flashed, “Old witches in the woods give the most interesting presents to those that treat them with respect.”

Seth shrugged, “I don’t need any presents. I’m just wandering. It was nice to meet you-“

“Leaving so soon?”

“I’ll come by another time,” Seth offered, having no intention of ever coming back. “Bye, Ms…”

She didn’t give her name, “Perhaps one last game before you leave, Aaron?”

His instincts told him to leave now, “Sorry, no can do.”

“Just one moment,” she crooned. She put the wooden doll away and pulled out a box and a shining gemstone. “I’ll even show a prize now. Simply touch the back of this box, and you may have this gem.”

Seth hesitated, he could sell the stone, after showing it off to Kendra, and have a lot of money.

But…

But this lady seemed crazy, dangerous, unhinged. And she still hadn’t given him her name.

“I’d rather play with the puppet,” he said. “I have to go. Bye crazy witch.”

“So insolent,” she mused. “Children these days really do as they please. Should you leave on this note your journey home may not be so pleasant, young adventurer.”

He shivered, her tone was dangerous, the air seemed heavy.

“I’m in a hurry,” he offered as he inched around the shed. “Lunch is soon.”

She hummed, her eyes closing as she raised a hand.

He didn’t take his eyes from her though she made no move to follow, her mumbling making his hair stand on end even when she was out of view.

As soon as he reached the far side of the shack he bolted.

Plunging through the undergrowth he dashed back to the path, pushing past the poisonous and dark plants that seemed to mirror the shed of the witch lady.

He glanced over his shoulder and though he saw no sign of her he couldn’t help but shiver. She had looked so wretched and smelled so foul and her challenge…

It reminded him scarily of one of Grandpa’s stories.

A witch in the woods.

But those were just fairy tales, everyone knew they weren’t true.

Seth couldn’t help but feel unsafe as he reached the path. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t following, or that he knew she couldn’t be a witch because witches weren’t real. Something was off and he needed to get back to the house.

Compass in hand he hurried down the path, glancing down at it to confirm the path he winced at the sudden sting in his ear.

He spun, seeing a pebble fall to the ground.

Who-

He looked around, but no one was there.

Could it be the old woman?

Another object struck him in the back of the neck, making him spin again, just in time to find an acorn flying at him.

He dodged it, tense as he noticed a rat scurrying through the bushes.

That was from two different directions.

He flinched, jumping back as he heard a cracking noise, like wood splitting.

A huge tree limb fell where he’d just been standing, a few leaves and twigs swishing him as it did.

The blood drained from his face.

If he hadn’t jumped back-

That could’ve killed him.

He swallowed, looking around, but the dark forest offered nothing.

A large spider crawled up the side of a tree, a rat scurried through the bushes.

Vague murmurs seemed to follow him as he took off at a sprint down the path.

Whispers crawled up his spine, stones and acorns whizzed at him as he ran, stinging his arms, back, legs. He ducked and wove and then cried at as something snatched at his ankle.

His hands ached as he tried and failed to catch himself. Rocks dug into stomach, his cheek was wet, blood? He scrambled for his ankle, finding nothing there. His ankle throbbed with pain, did he sprain it?

That had felt like something hard and thin, like a strong cord. A trip wire? But how? There hadn’t been one earlier, and the woman couldn’t have done it even if she’d started running the moment he’d passed out of sight.

There was a cracking noise above him, and he rolled over just in time for a branch to hit the ground where he’d just been.

Stumbling to his feet he winced at the pain in his ankle, wiping his cheek and swallowing hard at the blood on his hand.

There was a rustling noise behind him, and something that sounded almost like a laugh.

The bushes seemed to stretch out, dark and foreboding.

He flinched at the cracking noise of a dry branch behind him, and then he took off again.

He tried to watch where he put his feet, flinching at ever stone thrown at him.

He raced past the place where the trail forked and sprinted back the way he came.

He wondered if the fairy tales held some truth to them and he’d angered a witch.

But no, those were just tales. This was ridiculous, the lady must’ve had a friend close by or else this wouldn’t be possible.

His breathing was labored, gasping for breath as he felt his lungs struggle to draw. No, not having an asthma attack now, worst outcome.

He forced himself to keep going, ignoring his own wheezing, the heat in the air, the seat on his forehead. He had to get to the house.

He stumbled to a halt, breath a strangled wheeze. He knew that gnarled tree on the side of the path. He’d seen it when inspecting the path.

He used it as a reference to find the pile of rocks, but they were gone. He knew this was where he’d made the pyramid…

Leaves crunched, a cracking noise echoed above him.

Seth took a quick look at his compass to confirm that he was heading West, then dove into the forest.

Earlier he’d walked this at a leisurely pace, studying all the trees and bushes and flowers and toadstools and every unusual rock he could find. He’d even saved one or two. Now he tore through the forest at full speed, his vision blurry and his breathing strangled. The undergrowth clawed at his legs, thorns that hadn’t been a concern before tearing at his pants. Branches whipped against his face and chest, more blood dripped from his face.

And that’s not even counting the continued pebbles striking him, nor the second time he fell (his ankle throbbing, definitely injured now, and the trip wire made of a hard cord sitting innocently in the trees).

Finally, wheezing and gasping and clutching his chest, the energy his panic wearing thin and his strength lagging, he glimpsed the house up ahead.

The sounds of pursuit faded away as he stumbled into the yard, safe at last.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

The wall opposite the windows in the playroom had multiple rows of bookshelves and a few wardrobes.

She had searched the wardrobes, thinking of Narnia as she searched through them.

Though she found no secret passages, she did find some very nice jackets, a few even fit her!

There were also little drawers built into the inside of one of the wardrobes, and it held all kinds of jewelry, hair pins, and assorted beauty supplies. There was even one drawer that just seemed to have hidden weapons.

The one bracelet with a skinny blade hidden inside was very pretty and Kendra wanted. Seth would probably find them super cool too.

She’d thrown a few of the jackets that were his size there (there were even cloaks and she’d absolutely claimed one cause… cloak).

The books on the shelves looked very interesting, and Kendra was definitely gonna devote time to reading them, but they didn’t reveal a secret door either.

She’d searched with a stool tool, reaching even the highest shelves.

They did reveal something else though.

Now Kendra was holding a leather covered blue book, with gold letters on the front and edging the pages. The Journal of Secrets.

It was very fancy, and held shut by three sturdy clasps, each with a keyhole. The final key from Grandpa didn’t fit any of the keyholes, but the two she’d found earlier did.

She heard someone stumbling up the steps and quickly put the book back on the shelf and pocketed the keys. She didn’t want Seth joining in the puzzle, that was her thing.

Seth charged through te door and slammed it shut behind him.

She opened her mouth to chide him but faltered when she took in his appearance.

His face was bloody and so were his hands. His pants had tears in them, and his knees looked a bit bloody as well. He was covered in dirt with leaves and twigs stuck in his hair.

Most worrisomely, he was wheezing hard.

“Seth!” she hurried over to him. “What happened? Oh no, lets get some water, and bandaids. Can you breathe? Do you need your inhaler? Stars how did you get so torn up?”

Seth dug through his emergency kit, struggling to breathe and his hands shaking.

“Here,” Kendra said, taking it from him. “I got it.”

She found his emergency inhaler buried at the bottom, and the spacer and shook the inhaler before putting them together, then handed it to Seth.

He struggled for a moment, letting out a strangled cough as he tried to hold his breath.

In, out, in, out, in, and he breathed out all his air, then quickly put the mouth piece in front of him and hit the inhaler, breathing in.

He held his breath for a few seconds, counting silently, before he let it out and broke into a coughing fit.

After a moment he repeated the process.

Kendra turned away, digging through her own bag to find the heart rate monitor.

“How did this happen?” she asked, handing it to him to check his oxygen level.

“Uh, was in the forest-“ he coughed “-and found… found- old lady. Like a witch, she lives in the woods-- in this old hut-“ he paused to catch his breath, coughing more.

“An old lady living in the forest?” Kendra wondered. “Did she attack you?”

“No, but-“ he coughed “-seemed like… whatsername, from grandpa’s stories, the witch in the forest. Stars what’s ‘er name.”

“Muriel?” Kendra asked. “The old wife from like 160 years ago?”

“Yeah- the one locked, in a shack, with the magic rope. The lady, had a rope, and uh-“ he coughed and winced when Kendra shot a pointed look at his inhaler.

He shook it, then copied what he’d done earlier, letting out a breath after about ten seconds.

“Well uh, had a creepy doll too. Wouldn’t say her name.”

“You didn’t tell her yours, did you?” Kendra sked worriedly, checking his oxygen and frowning when it was at 92. That’s lower than it should be.

“No, I said my name was Aaron. But-“ he paused for breath “-but I left, cause she creepy with creepy box and stuff, there was something, someone? Multiple people?” he broke into a coughing fit and paused to take deep breaths.

“People did something?”

“Threw rocks,” he got out. “Lots. And a trip wire… and branches fell, almost hit me. Big ones.”

Kendra frowned, Seth didn’t have asthma attacks very often anymore, so something definitely happened, and he’s bleeding…

“Did you see anyone?”

“Just some… spiders… and rats… no people- ‘cept her.”

He stood straight, and a check of the monitor said his oxygen was 93.

Good, he’s recovering.

“Do you think Grandpa Sorenson knows he has a creepy old lady on his property?”

“She mentioned him,” Seth said, his breathing still strangled but he could talk easier. “And if she is’a witch then-“

“Those are fairy tales,” Kendra argued. “She definitely sounds creepy though, you shouldn’t go back into the woods.”

“You should come with next time.”

Kendra frowned, “Next time? Seth you’re bleeding! You apparently got attacked by a creepy old lady!”

“Yeah but-“ he paused “-I found a cool thing. And you said if I found a cool thing-“

“I said if you found a witch in the woods you weren’t going back,” she pointed out.

“Okay she’s not’a’witch then!”

Kendra huffed, “Lets get you cleaned up.”

Seth frowned, “I wanna explore more later. I’m gonna.”

“If you come back again scratched up and bleeding and having an asthma attack I’m telling Grandpa,” Kendra said. “That’s dangerous.”

“Fine, sure,” he coughed. “I’ll stay ‘way from the place I found the lady.”

Kendra frowned, but pulled out a water bottle and some napkins from her bag.

Seth brought exploration tools, she brought medical supplies.

“Stay still so I can clean up the blood.”

“You wanna come next time?”

She hummed, getting to work, “We’ll see.”

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to reblog and leave a review, they feed my soul.

What did you think of Seth's encounter? What about Kendra's looking around the room? How about what they talked about at the end?

I had to cut out the treehouse scene, it didn't fit but I'll put it in a bit later.

#fablehaven #dragonwatch #fh #dw #fhdw #kendra sorenson #seth sorenson #fh fanfic #fh fanfiction #fablehaven fanfic #fablehaven fanfiction #fablekingdom #fablekingdom ch. 4 #fablekingdom ch 4 #FK ch 4 #grandpa sorenson #muriel #muriel taggert

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