#and the person delivering them WAITED for me to open the door to confirm yes im getting them

[yoshistory]

honestly the only thing that worries me about getting sex reassignment surgeries is the fact that i dont know anyone who could be here to bathe and help me eat and watch over me and take care of the cats, etc while i recover from them

[thesparklingwriter]

taking fate into one's own hands

08—improvement

Word count: 2.5k

navi | taglist | masterlist

“Could you teach me?” you ask quietly, and Morax lets out a surprised hum. He seems to have a chivalrous nature you hadn’t earlier noticed—he walks you to your room. You returned form the harbour with nothing to show for the depletion in his own personal fund—apparently items made for the king are delivered directly to him.

“Certainly.” he says quickly. “Though I am not sure why you would ask for me.”

You sigh quietly. You had spent some time thinking, and your parents had never made a second attempt to contact you. It seemed like the situation was dire, and since going back is an option they will never suggest or accept, you want to be able to act alone and get the information you need about what’s going on. It may take years to become conversational, but a start is a start. And even further than that, any further separation from him now might lead to a regression in the peaceful truce you seem to have created.

“You should send a response to your parents. I will see to it that it is delivered and replied to immediately.”

You glance up at Morax, wondering how he knew what you were thinking. But he won’t meet your eyes, sensing your question. “The expression on your face is one I know I've made a hundred times. Do not act in a way that will breed regret. It is an ugly thing.”

“I will think about it.”

“Good. we can start your language lessons tomorrow, if you wish.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” he says, as you reach your room. “Shuì gè hǎo jiào.” you look at him in confusion, and the small smile on his face quirks a little. “An advance on your first lesson. It means ‘sleep well.”

You smile as you open the door to your room. “Shui ge hao jue.” you say back. Your tones are wrong, but Morax notes that even a stranger on the streets would have been able to understand what you're saying. He smiles at your closed door, and turns to retire to his room for the night.

~~~

“No abyssal movement?” Morax asks Xiao. Through Xiao’s reconnaissance and the little he noticed while in your kingdom, he has concluded that the crop death and freak weather conditions that lead to the decline of your kingdoms prosperity is abyss related. But he just can’t figure out why.

Xiao shakes his head. “Not from their entities. I am unable to locate the source of the issue.”

“The spread of the population is further out from the palace?”

“Yes, the crops on the outskirts seem to do better there, but the weather conditions aren’t exactly ideal. If the people can avoid famine, they will struggle with maintaining a safe place to live.” Xiao reports. His words confirm his suspicions entirely. You weren’t sent away because your kingdom wanted just the trade support from Liyue, but because the threat was from inside the palace. You were sent away for your own protection. But that begs the question: if your parents know the issue, why aren’t they doing anything about it?

“Work on getting closer to the palace. The quicker we understand what is happening, the sooner I can explain it to her.” Morax says, letting out a resolute sigh. “In the meantime, if you could aid in informing the traders that any excess produce can be sold to us for 3 times the standard price, that would be appreciated. I fear her kingdom is going to need more supplies than they think.”

~~~

Morax had agreed to teach you, just as you’d hoped, but you couldn’t sit around all day, waiting for him to find you. You were going to catch a headstart. You’d written a reply to you parents, asking them why they decided to send you away instead of telling you the truth, or how the abyss order came to the palace and your kingdom in the first place. You didn’t expect an honest reply, but it was worth a try.

The library is a grand and imposing room—floor to ceiling shelves full of books, with a dark wooden decor. You’re greeted by a slight middle aged woman as soon as you enter. Her dark hair and clothing matches the library’s interior, and her glasses shimmer with the warm glint of candlelight.

“Ah. Deus Auri told me I might be expecting you. I am Zhi. It is lovely to meet you.” She inclines her head towards you, and you return the gesture, bowing fully. She chuckles lightly.

“The pleasure is mine.” you pause. Deus Auri? Yet another name? “If you don't mind me asking, why does the king have so many names?”

Zhi smiles. “That is something he should tell you himself.” she smooths her slick black ponytail and smiles. “Here.” she hands you something that looks like a child’s book. “The mechanism on the back will play the audio. Try to recognise the characters from the sound.”

You gape at her. To be handed a child’s book in earnest was not on your list today, but you request a sheet of paper and something to write with, and you do as she asks. You tear through the first, having picked up some recurring characters and their sounds, as well as noting down some guesses. While you’re deep in focus, Zhi brings you more books, and you solidify your guesses. It's as you’re buried in a growing pile of books, and Zhi is in the process of adding more that Morax comes to find you.

“I see you have started without me.” he smiles.

“I have no other way to spend my time. I prefer to engage in fruitful endeavours wherever possible.” You don’t look up from your paper and charcoal.

“What have you discovered thus far?”

You clear your throat and look up at him. Once again, you find yourself staring at him in what must be his casual wear, his impossibly long hair tied back, but not in the usual intricate braids. He seems to glow in the warm lighting of the library.

“‘Shénme’ seems to mean ‘what’.” you say quietly, glancing at the scribbles on your paper.

“Correct. This method of learning is frustrating, no?” he says, pulling up the chair next to you. You’re quick to move your paper out of the way, more out of embarrassment than anything else. He's so close, too close even. If you moved slightly, your arms would be touching. He seems to be unbothered by the proximity, sneaking a glance at the paper you so unsubtly stashed away.

“Perhaps a little.” you reply. “There is a more pressing matter at hand. Why do you have so many names?”

Morax laughs at that, a deep, velvety sound you are certain you have never heard. But now you have, you fear you might spend every day trying to coax it out of him whenever possible. 

“I was of the impression we had closed this discussion.”

“We have not.” you scowl. “Deus Auri, Zhongli, Morax, Rex Lapis.. Your arguments do not work on me. How does one man find himself with this many…” Morax knew that at one point, your stubbornness would be directed at him more intentionally than you refusing to look or speak to him. He did not expect it to be like this, but he finds that he does not begrudge it. To see fire in your eyes again, not to preserve yourself but out of real curiosity, to see you comfortable enough to question him, to spend time in the library by yourself… The wilting flower that was delivered to his doorstep has somehow found a way to bloom, and he is grateful. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, blinking at him.

“A man who has lived thousands of years must have the appropriate amount of names.”

“You said you’re only 3 years my senior.”

“In this particular lifetime, yes.” Morax smiles. He was not expecting to explain this to you today.

“You don’t mean to imply—”

“Reincarnation. Yes. before being the humble ruler of Liyue, I was their god—Morax. And then I was their sovereign—Rex lapis, and before all of that, when Liyue itself wasn’t a nation, and the first inklings of culture began to form, to the first ones, I was Deus Auri.”

You stare at him slack mouthed.

“So you mean to tell me that you saw the creation of Liyue?”

Morax sits back in his seat, his slightly relaxed posture so foreign to you that you resist the urge to gawk at him even more. “How else would you expect Liyue to be so connected to its roots?”

“Is reincarnation a gift only afforded to the gods, or are we mere mortals afforded the same fate?” you ask drily, and Morax chuckles again.

“Reincarnation cycles are typically shorter for those favoured by Celestia. Not only do we find ourselves living longer, but we also find ourselves reincarnated as few as years after our deaths. For mortals, like your parents or Alanna, for example, they might find it takes decades, or even centuries. By then, so much time has passed that it is unlikely they will be able to be identified by the family of those they loved. It is easier for those like us to identify mortals we have known and loved in the past—knowing life is ephemeral makes it easier for us to pay attention to the smaller things.”

You notice that Morax pointedly does not include you in his description of ‘mortals’ but you let it slide—you are edging closer to the information you seek, and it’s best not to get caught on tangents.

“Reincarnation stays within families, I assume?” you ask. Zhongli nods. “So if you were to find yourself reincarnated into a member of your extended family, how would you find yourself back on your throne?”

He clears his throat. “An insightful question. It can be a difficult process. One that can tear families apart.” Morax sits up, adjusting his billowing sleeves in an action you can only assume is his version of fidgeting. 

“You said earlier that you were fine with whatever I wanted to call you, but I have to insist. What do you want me to call you? I won’t take no for an answer.”

Morax meets your determined stare and sighs a little. “Let us make an arrangement. If you can make it through this lesson I will teach you to read the characters for my name.” 

You grin. You’ve made headway with him.

Morax, you learn, may be somewhat lenient with you in day to day life, however, when it comes to lessons, he is a force to be reckoned with. He is not loud or abusive, but he is firm, and if you believed you were stubborn, he has proved you otherwise.

“They sound the same to me.” you complain after Morax attempts to explain tones to you once again.

“You will learn to differentiate them, but you have to train your ears from the start.” he fires off another set of words that sound the same, and you shut off, refusing to listen any further. 

“I can’t bear any more today. I forfeit my prize. I give up.”

Morax sighs, taking the charcoal from your hands and neatly writing out two characters. He writes the phonetic pronunciation underneath each character, and turns it towards you.

“If you can pronounce this correctly, we can resume practising tomorrow. If not, Zhi and Xiao will teach you.”

You scowl at him, and the smile he sends back to you is placid, but if you’d paid closer attention, you might have noticed a hint of concern in his eyes. Has he pushed you too far? Is this a fair test? Tones are difficult for all learners, and had he not aided the development of this language himself, he might not have been able to grasp them. Your brow furrows as you try to match the tones to the sounds, and he watches you go back and forth between what you’re reading, and the sound you want to make.

“Zhōnglì.” You say quietly, and his smile deepens. “Am I right?”

“Perfect.” he replies quickly. You try your best to hide your pleased smile, but it’s impossible. Zhongli smiles, but for a different reason. You had gotten his name right, but he’d written the phonetics incorrectly. Either you remembered from the very first meeting you’d had all those days ago, or you knew his name from elsewhere. And considering that all those who used to call him Zhongli died before he was seated on the throne, he’s inclined to believe you know his name from somewhere else.

“So I’ll see you back here tommorrow?”

“Of course.” Zhongli smiles. “I wouldn't dream of ever abandoning my best student.”

~~~

“Zhōnglì.” You whisper to yourself, in the privacy of your own room, staring at the paper. His handwriting is immaculate—so calculated that you could have believed it was printed. But it doesn’t match the sound of his name. He says, you're right, and you flip through your memories to try and remember the sound of his name when he introduced himself all that time ago, but you just can't grasp it. 

You have nothing else to do, so you rewrite your notes from the day and stare at the reply to your parent's letyer. And stare some more. In fact, you stare at it so much so that you are sure the desperate pleas for more information are burned onto your retinas.

Alanna is quiet, busy reorganising your wardrobe and jewellery. Small tasks like this keep her occupied—until she picks up a teal blue necklace, and her thoughts start spiralling again. She scowls. Her focus is on you and making sure you’re happy, and she can’t do that if her mind is elsewhere.

“I’m bored.” she smiles. “Fancy getting dressed up for dinner?”

“Why would I do that?”

“For your dear assistant who cannot layer traditional wear and needs practice.” she smiles. “You know. Just in case.”

You sigh. You have never once been able to resist her smile, and the thought that she should have been the princess passes your mind again. “Of course. I shall be your doll for the day.”

Your meeting with Alanna’s comb is delayed as a knock on the door rings out. Perhaps it's delusion, but you’ve begun to recognise Zhongli’s knocks. Firm and resonant, you seem to hear them long after his fist has left the door.

“The king seems to believe that I have nothing to do with my time.” you tease as you open your door. He chuckles lightly as you register the piles of silk in his hands.

“The pieces you requested are ready. It seems the modiste likes you more than he likes me—last time I requested his aid for a festival he cut it rather fine with the delivery.” This is partially a lie. Zhongli requested that your pieces be finished faster.

“You should think of a name for this delivery service of yours.” You take the fabric from his hands and turn to place it on your bed. He makes no moves to follow you, standing at the threshold as if there is an invisible barrier. Alanna, once again, is nowhere to be found.

“Perhaps I should.” He smiles ever so slightly. Maybe it is more accurate to call it a twitch of the lips. “Will you be joining me for dinner?”

“Alanna believes I shall. She is insisting on using me as her mannequin for the evening, wherever she is. If I arrive with half finished makeup as evidence of my impatience you are not to laugh at me.”

“I would never dream of such a thing.” And the king of Liyue, leans ever so slightly against your doorframe as he crosses his arms.

notes: why is celeste even giving you the poll feature anymore when she knows you cannot be trusted.

Taglist: @tartigglez @ainescribe @blue-sapphire-ink @mikashisus @local-lover-boy @osmanthus-wine-addiction

[pensat-i-fet]

Fashion challenge (Rúben Dias x reader)

**Hello! I recently got a request to do an imagine kind of roasting Rúben's clothes and his recent change in style. And it was one of those times when I started to write with an idea in mind and then the story went in different directions I didn't expect but I'm happy it did. I think it turned out really cute and fun so hopefully you enjoy reading it too ❤️**

Word count: 1694

Masterlist

Wattpad

[Rúben]: are you home?

[You]: yes, only here for my lunch break though. Why?

[Rúben]: I'm getting some parcels delivered in 15 minutes.

[You]: I'll be here when it arrives. Don't worry 😉

[Rúben]: you're the best ❤️ see you later! Love you!

Parcels delivered now? He usually got them sent to the training centre because there was always someone there but you didn't mind opening the door to the delivery person. Even if he arrived right when you were in the middle of eating.

Chewing as fast as you could, you walked to the door to find a man surrounded by boxes and bags.

"That's…a lot".

"Tell me about it", he laughed.

"Do I need to sign something?"

"No. I can help you get everything inside the apartment".

"Don't worry. I'm fine. Let me get you a tip. You've earned it".

The man left and you started to take everything inside. A few of the boxes had brand names you recognised but most had names that meant nothing to you. This must be the stylist's doing.

Saying you weren't a fan of Rúben's stylist would be an understatement. How he managed to get the worst clothes from every brand was a mystery to you. And always in the wrong size.

But there was no time to worry about that because you had to go back to work after quickly finishing your lunch and letting Rúben know his clothes had arrived.

                                       **

Rúben was always the first one back home after training. The two hours he had to wait for you to come back sometimes felt eternal and today was one of those days. He was excited to try all his new clothes out and show you how they looked, so you could help him choose what to keep and what to send back.

So because he was bored, he started to open the boxes and bags and he placed the clothes on the bed. Those trousers were supposed to go with…right, that T-shirt and the jacket. And the tracksuit with the crosses with the new trainers. Fun!

He was trying one of the outfits on when he heard the door open and close and got out of the room to meet you.

"Is there a clown convention in town?", you asked when you saw him.

"What?"

He looked confused while walking towards you to give you a kiss. The closer he got, the more shocked you were by what he was wearing.

"What are you wearing?"

"Some of my new clothes. Do you like them?"

Don't be mean, don't be mean. "Not really?"

"Why? I thought this looked good".

"The colours clash. The sizes…what is it with this stylist of yours and buying clothes that could fit you and me in them because of how big they are? And I'm sure it has some sort of print on the back too, right?"

He started to walk towards the room backwards, confirming your suspicions. You shook your head, chuckling.

When you got to the room, you saw him taking the clothes off. The room was an absolute mess.

"You wanted honesty, remember".

"I know. I just forget how brutal your honesty can be", he said, laughing.

"That outfit you're wearing now is great".

"Really? Is it because I'm just wearing my underwear?"

"Maybe…you could do an underwear fashion show for me”.

“Can I do one with all these clothes? Please. You have to like something out of all these boxes”.

But you didn’t like anything out of all the boxes. Not even the pieces from the brands you bought clothes from. But felt kind of bad for Rúben. He actually seemed to enjoy some of the clothes that had been picked for him.

“That wasn’t too bad”, you said, pointing to a fairly simple pair of trousers and a matching shirt.

“Maybe I can wear it to go out for dinner and you can take some photos that I can post”.

"Sounds like a plan. You can also take photos of my outfit".

"And we can see who gets more likes on Instagram".

"That's not fair, Rúben. Because you have a lot more followers".

"Yeah", he said, picking you up and pecking your lips before putting you down again. "But you are a lot hotter so that's an advantage for you".

You chuckled, picking up your bag and getting ready to go.

Once at the restaurant, you took some cute photos of each other but it wasn't until you were done eating that you started your challenge.

"That's the best one for you, post it".

"Wait", said Rúben, "how about we do a poll on my stories?"

"Also not fair. Your fans will pick you always because they think everything you do is perfect", you said, rolling your eyes.

"Well, someone has to feed my ego after your roasting".

"Just trying to keep you humble, my love".

"But let's make it more fun", suggested Rúben. "The loser has to do a challenge or something".

"Oh, easy. If I win, I'll take you shopping and I'll pick all the clothes".

"And if I win…you have to wear the clothes from my last shopping spree for a week".

Rúben couldn't help but laugh at your face. "I actually might dump you, you know?"

"You won't. You'll look hot no matter what you wear".

He sat on the sofa, patting his legs so you would sit on his lap and then together you picked the best two photos and made the post with the poll. You were sure he would win. Obviously, it was his account followed by his fans. But…it became a bigger event.

A few of your friends reposted the story on their accounts, choosing sides. You spent a few hours checking who sided with who and laughing at their comments. And when you woke up the next day, some City accounts had posted about the little poll on Twitter so the amount of total votes was way bigger than you expected in the first place.

"Ok, it's over. Let's see the results".

You and Rúben opened the app with the same expectation of a reality show fan about to see who won Big Brother.

"Oh my God!", you screamed and started to run around the room.

It was 35% for Ruben and 65% for you.

"That's not fair!"

"The people have spoken, Rúben. The power of democracy is beautiful. Embrace it. Appreciate it".

"If you say so…".

"We're going to have so much fun on our shopping trip".

                                       **

The day you finally were both off work, you decided to treat yourself from morning to night. It was rare for you to not have breakfast at home, but Rúben told you about a great place to have brunch so you made your way there before the shopping began.

"You're eating the same breakfast you always eat".

"It's what I like".

"You're so adventurous, Rúben", you laughed. "It's hard to believe you let a wannabe stylist dress you".

He just shrugged and you took a piece of bacon from your plate and put it on his omelette.

"It's protein. Good for your muscles".

After picking up a post-brunch smoothie, you made your way to the shopping centre.

"I have a list".

Rúben looked at you pulling out a literal list from your bag.

"You're taking this more seriously than your job".

"Because it involves you. And you're the most important person to me", you said dramatically, earning an eye roll from Rúben. "Burberry first".

"Yes, ma'am".

Having browsed all the websites too many times, you knew exactly what you were looking for.

"This set is perfect for the summer holidays".

Rúben picked up the clothes you were showing him. It was a set of shorts and a jacket with a polo collar. Of course, you loved polos. But he did like it. And the shade of orange would compliment his skin tone really well.

"It's nice".

"Nice? Go try it on and you'll see it's more than nice".

When he got out, you were smiling from ear to ear. He looked so good.

"That looks really good on you, sir. Great choice", said one of the ladies who worked at the store.

"It does, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I think we'll take it", conceded Rúben, who actually loved the way the clothes looked on him. "I already have some outfits for the summer but it's nice to have more options".

"Yes…or we could burn the others and just keep what I'll buy for you today".

Rúben glared at you and the salesperson stared at you both confused.

"Inside joke", you said.

From Burberry, you moved to Etro. He wanted fun patterns on his shirts? Cool, he could get fun patterns that were actually nice to look at.

"Hear me out…let's get a couple of polos at Prada".

"I don't love polos".

"But I could wear them too", you said, pouting. "How adorable! The couple that wears Prada together…".

"Let's get one!"

"I love you! I love you! I love you!"

"Unless I wear Chrome Hearts".

"So don't wear it again", you winked, taking his hand and leading him to the Prada store.

By the end of the shopping trip, you were thankful for Rúben's muscles. Who knew bags full of clothes could be so heavy? But you bought a lot so maybe that was why.

"You'll be happy when you hear about this".

"I like being happy. But why am I going to be happy today?", you asked him when he got to the kitchen while you finished dinner.

"My post from this morning is underperforming".

"What did you post? I'm having a phone detox day".

"A bunch of photos with outfits from last week".

You bit your lip, but he saw the smile you were trying to hide.

"How about we do another challenge?"

"Go on…".

"You post the clothes I bought for you today and if it doesn't get as many likes as the post from today, I won't roast your style for two whole weeks".

That got his attention. "And if it gets more likes?"

"You do the world a favour and fire your stylist".

[jannah1721]

A vampire Story

Disclaimer: This is purely fictional and is only a product of my imagination. This is a Toey X Everyone Vampire AU from We Are The Series.

EXORDIUM

“Uncle Tay! Are you alright?”

Toey crouches down to where his uncle just fell down, worry visible on his face. He carried the older man to sit on the sofa nearest to him before he proceeds to inspect his uncle’s physical condition to make sure that there are no injuries. However, he noticed that his uncle feels a bit warm.

“Uncle, you have a fever! Please go home and take a rest. I can take care of the shop”.

“But this bouquet needs to be delivered today…”, Uncle Tay points to a bouquet of burgundy roses that fell on the floor together with him just now.

Toey quickly grabs the bouquet before facing his uncle again, “Don’t worry, uncle! I will have this delivered in no time! For now, let me take you back to your house next door. I’ll deliver the flowers afterwards and buy you a porridge on my way back, ok?”

PUN

Toey arrived at the address of the recipient. He rings the bell on the gate once and is immediately greeted by a cheerful young lad.

“It’s usually Uncle Tay who sent the flowers”, the man tries to strike a conversation with Toey while signing the receipt.

“Ahh Uncle Tay caught a fever today so I went on his stead”, Toey explains.

The man takes both of Toey’s hands in his, surprising Toey, and stares at Toey’s face with his big eyes. “Ohh that’s unfortunate. Wishing him speedy recovery. Thank you for the delivery. I’m Pun. And you?”

“Toey”.

“Toey! Hope to see you again!”

Toey watches Pun’s disappearing figure as the gate closes.

CHAIN

Tay Florist receives a similar order from the same resident the next week.

“Mr. Phum? When did he start being your regular customer, Uncle Tay?”, Toey inquires, in curiosity.

“Ahh it’s been a while. 2-3 years ago, if I’m not mistaken. In the beginning, he used to buy the flowers in person. A fine man, trying to woo the love of his life. He started opting for deliveries after he managed to win the heart of the recipient of the roses. It has always been burgundy roses. Which symbolizes commitment, gratitude and loyalty. The last time I saw him, he told me that they started to live together. Ahh the fact that he still ordering from this shop till now means that their relationship is going well. I missed seeing him in person though”.

“Wahh such a beautiful story”, said Toey in awe. “Couple goals!”

Uncle Tay chuckles and put a bouquet of burgundy roses that he just finished wrapping, onto Toey’s hands. “Here, please deliver this to Mr. Phum’s residence. I hope you still remember the way?”

“Yes, I do. I’ll be going now. Will be back soon!”

It takes about half an hour from the florist to Mr. Phum’s residence by motorcycle. On the way there, it started pouring.

Toey rings the bell on the gate. He wasn’t greeted by Pun this time. Instead, he heard a voice asking who he is from the intercom’s speaker, that is also, after he rings the bell for the third time. After confirming that Toey is there to deliver the roses, the gate automatically opens and he is instructed to enter. He rushes towards the front door of the big house, where a man who looks slightly older than him, opens the door.

“I’m very sorry that you had to wait in this rain! Our caretaker is pretty occupied right now. Thankfully I heard the bell”, the man explains, apologetically.

To be honest, Toey was feeling a little displeased but he understands that things happen. What is needed is just an apology, which he already received.

“It’s alright, I understand. Your signature, please”. Toey hands the receipt to the man.

Instead of taking the receipt, the man reaches out to hold Toey’s right hand, which is used to hand the receipt. Toey gasps. He looks up at the man’s face. Toey thought that the man is attractive. He feels like there’s a magnetic force between them. Which tries to pull Toey towards the man. Toey desires…to get closer…

“Toey!”

Pun throws himself onto Toey, giving Toey a bear hug. Toey wakes up from the…”trance”…

“Nice seeing you again! Ahh let me introduce you! This guy here is Chain. He’s a medic student! Chain, this is Toey! The one that I told you about!”

The guy, Chain, nods in acknowledgement. “Ahh! Hello, Toey. Nice to finally meet you”.

Toey doesn’t show it, but he feels a little uncomfortable and awkward, after what happened between him and Chain just now, and also, wondering what about him that Pun told Chain about.

“Nice to meet you too, Chain”.

Pun quickly signs the receipt and takes the bouquet.

“For your information, I’m the caretaker of this residence. Umm…This might be a weird request. Say, Toey. Do you mind to work here during this summer vacation? I need help with managing the residence at this time. You don’t have to worry about foods and we will provide you a room here for you to stay for free! I know I sounds desperate. I really don’t know who else I can ask. If you agree, we can discuss this with Phum. He pays well, no worries!”

Toey is bewildered by the sudden request. “Umm but I have to ask for Uncle Tay’s permission first…”

“Phum will call Uncle Tay regarding this matter, is that ok?”, Pun excitedly proposed, ignoring Toey’s discomfort.

“Umm…let me think about it, yeah?”

“Yay! Sure!”

“Toey, Mr. Phum personally requested you to work for him as a caretaker at his residence this summer vacation. He called me just now. He agreed to pay you 300,000baht for this 3-weeks period. Do you want to take up the offer?”

Toey chokes on his breakfast. 300,000baht? For real?

“Are YOU ok with that? He is asking for someone else’s employee to work for him”, Toey retaliates.

His uncle lets out a light laugh. “I don’t mind, my dear. He’s paying you way more than I could afford to pay you. Plus, I know he’s a good man. You will learn a lot living there. It’s good to have a change in routine during this holiday. Go ahead, Toey. I’ll be happy if you accept this offer”.

“Fine”. Toey is determined to fulfill his uncle’s wish.

PHUM’S RESIDENCE

“Everyone, Nong Toey will be staying here till the end of summer holidays as our caretaker. Pun, kindly brief him on things to do and everyone else, please be kind to Nong Toey”.

Toey’s thought upon meeting Phum for the first time was…the man is so charismatic. He wishes to be as cool as and successful as Phum. Finding out that Phum is just two years older than him, he was amazed that Phum owned the residence at such a young age.

“Meet my fiancé, Peem”.

Peem, on the other hand, is such a graceful creature, Toey thought. He admires how soft spoken and warm-hearted Phum’s fiancé is, as Peem welcome him with a delicious chocolate cupcake.

Toey was soon introduced to the rest of the tenants. Pun and Chain, whom he already known. Fang, Phum’s older brother. Tan, Fang’s lover, who frequently visits the residence and sometimes staying over. Phum also mentioned another resident named Q, who was not in attendance during Toey’s arrival as the man was having his artworks showcased in another city. Apparently, Q is a painter. Phum told Toey that he can expect to meet Q perhaps by tomorrow.

“Pun, did Mr. Phum rent the rooms in this residence?”

Pun snickers. “Well, you could say it like that but we are all actually Peem’s friends! Me, Chain, Tan and Q! Tan doesn’t live here but you would see his face here almost every day. If he stays over, he’ll be in Fang’s room. Chain and Q move here as this residence is closer to the university. Phum of course offered to stay for free, but both of them insisted that they should pay rent, at least. As for me, I am being paid by Phum as I decided to be the caretaker here”.

Pun was showing Toey around. Phum’s residence has 3 floors in total. Phum and Peem’s room is on the highest floor, Fang’s room on the second floor, while Pun, Chain and Q’s rooms are all on the first floor. Toey is given the room next to Fang’s on the second floor. There is currently an empty guest room on the ground floor, which was often used by Phum’s friends named Beer and Mick, whenever the two men stayed over, usually to finish up university assignments. Now that it’s the semester break, the two friends went back to their respective home town, according to Pun.

Pun and Toey are now in Toey’s new room. The room is painted in dark blue color, Toey’s favorite. “I like the room. It’s cozy”, Toey sits down at the edge of the bed, feeling the soft, gray luxury silk duvet with his hands.

Pun clears his throat. “Nong Toey, I have a serious question to ask you”.

Toey’s smile falters a little in a worry. Yet he gently nods, a cue for Pun to proceed.

“Did you ever encounter any vampires before?”

Toey blinks. “Umm…yeah, I did. Even though their population is not that much but I know that some do live around us. I never had a negative experience like being attacked before though. Thankfully, the vampires that I encountered…they all have self-control…Is what I would like to believe”.

“I see. Do you have any charms on you?”

“To keep vampires away? I did have this charm that my parents gave me few years back. But since I live in a safe neighborhood where no vampires are known to be living there, I rarely wear it. I usually just keep it in my bag”, Toey rummages through his backpack and lets out a hexagon-shaped charm necklace with a rose engraved on it to show to Pun. Pun inspects the necklace carefully.

“Hmm…this charm of yours is already weak. It needs new holy recitation and to be run through the holy water to revive its power. It’s ok. For now, you can wear this one!”, Pun gives Toey an oval-shaped, golden colored charm necklace with a symbol of what looks like a sun on it. “Please wear it all the time, at least when you are working inside or around this residence”.

Toey tilts his head, a confused expression on his face. Pun answers Toey’s silent question. “Because aside from me and you, the rest are all vampires”.

PUN (II)

It is Toey’s second day at Phum’s residence. After breakfast, he runs down the mental notes of Pun’s instructions: in the morning, they will start by beautifying the garden outside. After lunch, they will start cleaning inside the house. Cleaning the tenants’ rooms will only start at 3pm since most vampires sleep after the sun rises. They don’t need to prepare any meals as vampires only need blood to survive. Toey was astonished yesterday, when Pun showed him what is inside the cabinets in the kitchen. He also realized that they are all cold cabinets, like a refrigerator, set at 4 degrees Celsius. For the storage of packets of blood, divided by types. There are mostly animal blood and some human blood. The stocks of blood from the blood bank are usually delivered on Wednesdays. At one corner of the kitchen though, there are some rice, bread, instant foods, snacks and some ingredients for cooking, which obviously belong to Pun. However, the ingredients for baking – they are Peem’s. Surprisingly, Peem loves baking.

“Have you ever get bitten by your vampire friends before, Pun?”, Toey inquires, in the middle of cutting some stems for propagating the plants.

“Lots of times. But I make it clear that I don’t want them to make it a habit. I wear strong charms, so most of the time, it’s not possible for them to bite me. I offered myself, but only during special occasions or critical conditions”.

“I see. I’m very curious. How did you stay this long with your vampire friends?”

“You see, nong. Biologically, they might be different from us humans. However, they still do have emotions, feelings and even changes in moods. These things that connect and bind people together – they have them. They also have interests and hobbies, just like us. They have their favorite sports and video games – just like us. We shared feelings, being vulnerable, seeking to understand each other and putting our trust…Ended up with this fulfilling and meaningful friendship”.

Even though Toey is not looking at Pun, he can hear smile in Pun’s words.

Toey smiles as well. He looks up at Pun in admiration. Then he turns his body facing Pun and can’t help but to ask, “So…how does it feel to be bitten?”

Pun gives him a sly leer. “Hmm, so curious, aren’t you? Let’s see…The experience differs with different vampires but for sure, before you get bitten, you will feel a certain kind of…attraction…if I may say that…Because the way vampires get to bit you is to lure you to them so you will definitely feel like something is pulling you towards them. Sometimes you will be aware of it and sometimes you don’t”.

Toey recalls that day he first met Chain. He remembered the pulling sensation, as well as how his mind got hazy all of a sudden. He shivers, thinking that Chain was probably trying to bite him that time.

Pun crosses his arms, then gently rubs his own shoulders with his hands, as if hugging himself - presumably reminiscing the feeling of getting his blood sucked by a vampire. He closes his eyes before he continues, “Once the vampire’s fangs are inside your neck, you don’t really feel pain….It does stings a bit in the beginning but in no time, you will be overwhelmed by…a euphoric rush…Your pleasure receptors felt stimulating…Uhh…”

“I see! Umm…thank you for the explanation!”, Toey shouts, red blush appears on his cheeks. Toey was focused on Pun’s facial expression the whole time. He was a little embarrassed seeing Pun’s look of ecstasy. Although there is another thing that makes him curious now: who is in Pun’s mind?

Q

Toey and Pun just finished mowing the lawn and currently heading back inside the residence to clean themselves first before lunch.

“Toey, Phum bought some toiletries for your room. I forgot to bring them to your room yesterday. So come by my room first!”

“That’s so sweet of Mr. Phum. He gives the best hospitality”. He silently praised the owner of the residence in his head. He has increasing respect for the man as well.

The second and the middle room from the stairs on the first floor, is Pun’s room. The room nearest to the staircase belongs to Chain. Toey spotted a “DO NOT DISTURB” label hanging on the doorknob of Chain’s door when they passed by. Toey grins by himself, thinking how interesting his days will be, surrounded by various kinds of characters.

“Just go straight to the kitchen when you’re done. I’m cooking fried rice! Are you ok with that?”, Pun asks, while handing Toey a basket of luxury hygiene products.

“OK! See you later!”

Pun gives a small wave and closes the door.

Toey notices that the room at the end of the hallway, next to Pun’s, had the door open wide. Instead of heading towards the stairs, he starts walking to the other side, to the room which supposedly belongs to Q. Toey peeks inside. What he sees, is fascinating. The room is full of beautiful, soul-stirring (at least in Toey’s POV) paintings on canvas. The room is undoubtedly messy, with the brushes and other painting tools scattered all over the floor, on the desk, on the nightstand, yet it is spotlessly clean. A single painting placed near the balcony catches his eyes. He sets down the basket of hygiene products on the floor, so he can have a closer look and admire the painting: A side profile of who Toey assumed to be a man because of the hair, taken a little from the back, so the face can’t be seen clearly. The man is leaning back on a round daybed, with a stunning view of mountains and ocean. Toey analyzes other details in the painting and come to a conclusion that it might be at some resort. At the bottom right of the painting, is a scribble of words.

The moon is sinking again today

The vibrant canaries singing melodiously

The scent of love getting near

The beauty untouched – hope to see you again

Q Nirandon

It seems that Q is not only good in painting but he seems to also be quite a poet. No wonder Phum called him “Maestro Q”.

This painting is mysterious and the poem somehow affected him in a way that he felt loved. Toey likes it. He is eager to meet this artist face to face. He believes that Q must be someone endearing; a darling sweetheart.

For a while, Toey has forgotten that he is CURRENTLY INSIDE Q’s room. But there’s no Q in sight and the room is dead silent. The fact that the door was open means that Q must have already been back home from the showcase. Toey turns his head towards the door leading to the bathroom. It was left ajar. Toey pushes the door open.

Toey only sees a pair of pale legs hanging at the edge of the bathtub. On instinct, he rushes towards the bathtub, finding a man with both eyes closed, crossing his arms, underwater. Toey panics. He roughly grabs both the man’s shoulders, getting the man’s head out from the bathtub and propping him into a sitting position.

“Hey! Are you ok? Can you hear me? Wake up!”

Toey lightly slaps the man’s cheeks in hopes that the man would wake up. The coldness of the man’s skin upon Toey’s touch, creates more panic in him.

A hand grabs Toey’s right arm, stopping his actions. Toey finds himself staring deep into Q’s sharp, hazel eyes. Oh yeah, Toey forgot. Toey was imagining a worst-case scenario; an accident; of falling asleep in the bath. Toey forgot, that Q is a vampire. Toey forgot, that vampires don’t breathe the same way humans do. Toey forgot, vampires can survive underwater. Q harshly pulls the same arm, and Toey ends up falling into the bathtub.

Despite the cold water, Toey is currently feeling the heat as he realized the position he’s in. He had his back facing Q, trapped in Q’s arms, the man is breathing down his neck and most importantly, Q is half naked, with only boxers on. They stay in that position for quite some time. Toey is speechless and Q seems to enjoy smelling the poor human.

“I’m hungry”, Q breaks the silence. Toey swears he can hear the loud thumping of his chest. He’s feeling the tingles, hearing the man’s deep voice.

“Uhh…I’ll get you your meal in a bit! What do you prefer? The animal blood or the human blood?”, Toey’s voice went a pitch higher due to nervousness (and shyness). He tries to free himself but Q embraces him tighter.

Q whispers into Toey’s ear, “Remove the charm”.

The charm, is what saving Toey from being bitten and hypnotized by Q.

“Don’t worry, I won’t suck you dry. It won’t hurt. I’ll make sure I’ll make you feel good…”, Q further persuade, his voice going lower with each sentence.

Toey is thrashing his body around, left and right, visibly struggling to free himself now. “Please, let me go!”

The man behind him further strengthens his hold, also refusing to give up. “You came to me yourself, with a delicious smell. Now you want to leave without giving me a taste? You’re torturing me”.

Something inside Toey snaps hearing those words. Q made it sounds like Toey is simply a source of nutrition. It upsets him to be looked at that way. He doesn’t know where the energy came from but finally, he is able to break away from Q’s grip, jumping out of the bathtub. Thankfully, Q remain in his place and doesn’t continue hunting for Toey.

Toey can finally take a good look at his captor’s face. Epicanthic fold eyes, pretty Greek nose, gorgeous freckles, firm jaw, red luscious lips. Toey’s breathe stuck in his throat. Q is absolutely stunning; highly attractive. He is an art himself, says Toey in his mind.

“I’ll get you some packets of blood soon”.

Toey runs out of the room in his drenched clothes, which he doesn’t realized until he arrived into his room. He doesn’t even realize that he ran across Pun, who just came out of his room, shouting Toey’s name when he saw the trails of water Toey left behind. Pun looks at the direction Toey came from. Q’s room. He shakes his head.

“Poor boy. I have to remind him to be cautious around Q and Chain. Those two are pretty voracious”.

When Q gets out of his bathroom, his eyes focus on something unfamiliar on the floor near his painting. Dark blue colored basket. Toey left Phum’s gifts for him in Q’s bedroom.

FANG

Toey arrives at the kitchen in fresh clothes after about 10 minutes. Pun is nearly done with the cooking.

“You don’t have to go back to Q’s. I already sent his lunch over”, Pun announces, while cracking an egg onto the heated pan.

Today’s lunch consists of TomYum fried rice with sunny side up eggs and sausages. Pun interrogates Toey regarding what happened inside Q’s room over lunch. He is pretty entertained by Toey’s story.

“Q might look like a Romeo on the surface and he may act like one. In reality, he’s more like Tybalt. Hot-headed, argumentative, brash and strong-willed. But perhaps those traits are what caused him to be known as the Maestro. I should’ve warned you about him. But now that you already met him, you know what you have to put up with”. Pun winks at him. Toey lets out a sigh.

After lunch, they both start cleaning the hallways and the common rooms from the ground floor up to the 3rd floor. They finished a little past 3pm and both of them decided to split up cleaning the tenants’ rooms next. Today, Toey is in charge of cleaning Fang and Phum/Peem’s rooms.

Toey knocks on Fang’s door. “Mr. Fang, is it ok for me to come in and clean your room?”

It doesn’t take long for the door to open. Toey is greeted by another shock of the day. Fang opens the door, just in shorts, a sexy case of bed hair and love bites all over his neck and chest. His lover, Tan, probably also half naked, can be seen still sleeping with one of his arms hanging down the bed. Toey is sure that his face must be as red as a tomato right now.

“Uhh…uhh…I’m sorry! I can…I can go clean Mr. Phum’s room first!”, Toey stumbles on his words, trying to look at anywhere but the provocative man in front of him.

Toey hears Fang’s laugh. “It’s ok, Nong. Give me 5 minutes”.

From behind the door, Toey can hear Fang telling Tan to wake up. He is standing frozen, still processing what he just saw.

Two figures emerge from the room, now fully clothed in their cozy loungewear.

“Go ahead, Nong. We’ll be at the library upstairs. Do inform us when you’re done”, Fang instructs.

“Sure, Mr. Fang”. Toey still can’t meet Fang’s eyes as the scene just now keeps replaying in his head.

Fang’s room is pretty organized. Paper works stack neatly on the working table, cosmetic products lined up on the vanity desk, ebony-stained open shelves which are filled with books and other decorations such as vases and crystals. The room is painted in dark purple, a color that suits the man, Toey thought. All in all, Fang seems to be someone who dislikes untidiness so cleaning his room doesn’t demand lots of energy from Toey.

Bedroom area – Done.

Bathroom – Done.

Only left with cleaning the balcony. The sky is clear today, and Toey is slightly distracted by a flying eagle hunting its prey. He leans his body on the guard railing, zero in on the eagle.

“And like a thunderbolt, he falls”.

Toey jumps in surprised. Fang’s face is too close. Too close that if Toey move just an inch forward, he will be able to kiss Fang’s cheek.

“Mr. Fang! Umm…I’m sorry! I’m going to clean here real quick!”

Only then Toey notices, that Fang is standing behind him with both hands stretched out holding the guard rail in front of him. Which means, he is sandwiched between the rail and Fang. The tall, beautiful man behind him, doesn’t budge. Toey starts panicking.

Fang giggles, running his fingers through Toey’s bangs. “You do your job well. I already inspected the room inside and it’s perfectly clean. Thank you”.

Toey blinks, not expecting to be praised at all.

“I came back to get my sketchbook. Please continue. Take your time”.

Toey fixes his gaze on Fang’s retreating back until the man is no longer in the room. When he turns back to look at the tree where the eagle was moments ago, the eagle is no longer there.

The eagle is already on the ground, feasting on the now dead squirrel.

Q (II)

Day 3.

After the encounter with Fang, the rest of yesterday was pretty uneventful. Toey was more tired than usual, since it was his first full day working at Phum’s residence. But he will be able to adapt soon. With determination, he throws his fist up in the air, ready for a new day.

Upon entering his bathroom, Toey suddenly remembers that he left the basket that Pun gave him in Q’s room. Toey’s chest feels warm and fuzzy thinking about Q. He makes a mental note to retrieve the basket later.

The bathroom gets steamy, the mirror gets misty, after the hot shower. Toey comes out of the bathroom feeling refreshed. Outside, Q was waiting. Sitting casually on Toey’s bed.

Their eyes met. Toey is feeling the pulling sensation again. Like being sent into a trance. Everything else is a blur to him. The next thing he knew, Q gave his basket back and Pun was standing near the door with a stern look on his face.

Q was up late, finishing yet another painting. He scans the contents of the basket on the floor. It irritates him, that he wasn’t able to taste the blood of the new caretaker despite being so close to the human last time. He has to admit that the human also smelled heavenly.

8.45am: The human probably is just about to get out of bed. An opportunity to prey, Q thought. Q imagine the human being disoriented; it will hopefully be easier to gain control over the man in that state. He strives to satiate his needs. He needs…That human’s blood. So he brought the basket, heading upstairs, towards the new caretaker’s bedroom.

Q knocks on Toey’s door. When there is no response on the third knock, Q pushes the door open. He can hear the shower running; along with faint humming of song. Q sits on the freshly made bed, waiting for Toey to finish. Turns out, Q made the right decision. The human before him looks horrified upon seeing him inside the room. Q focuses on the smell. Appetizing, Q thought. Toey also looks enticing at this moment. He wants to devour him.

Much to Q’s delight, there’s no charm on Toey. Apparently, the human removed the necklace whenever he went to take a bath.

Toey is coming nearer, thanks to the effect of his ability. Q opens his arms; the human enters perfectly into his embrace. He was about to rejoice in triumph; his fangs were out, ready to sink into that pale skin.

“Q”.

Q turns to the direction of the voice. His human friend is standing at the door. He doesn’t look pleased.

“Close the door, Pun”.

Pun doesn’t obey. Instead, he comes closer to Q, showing a garlic on his hand. It’s a warning.

“I said, close the door, Pun”, Q tries once more.

“It’s still morning, Q. Don’t do this. Leave him”, Pun orders, in a serious voice.

Q lets out a big sigh of distress. He disenchants the human in his arms. When Toey “wakes up” from the trance, he looks around, confused. Q hands him the basket. Toey wonders why the man looks annoyed. He then sees Pun on the door. Who looks equally as annoyed.

PHUM

Toey has been adapting well with his new routine. What he learned so far about the vampires of the Phum’s residence, is that even though they didn’t have designated dinner or lunch times, some nights, they will gather in the common room and socialize. They will play board games, watched YouTube together while chatting away. Sometimes, they invited Pun and Toey too. Where Toey found out that Tan is the king of gossip among them.

Toey finds that vampires are scary in general. Mostly because of the neverending bloodlust and the fear of getting killed by having his blood drained by them. But living here slowly changes the way he looks at the nocturnal creature. They had their own way of having fun, that doesn’t necessarily involved humans. Someone like the classy Peem, also fancy some wine to add to the fun. Toey can say with confidence that he has been getting along well with all the residents, even with Q, whom he had an awkward first encounter.

Day 9.

Pun and Toey enter the residence after they are done with the gardening works. Phum approaches them then.

“Aww Phum? You have meeting? Usually, you’re not up yet at this time”, Pun asks.

Phum smiles. “I want to go buy some gifts for Peem’s birthday”.

Pun gasps, both hands covering his mouth. “Oh yeah. I almost forgot! I’ll prepare for the surprise and let you guys know the plan via LINE later!”

Phum nods with a content look on his face. He then turns his body facing Toey. “Toey, freshen up. You’re coming with me”.

“Yes, sir!”, Toey responds with a salute.

For the first time ever in his life, Toey sits down on a passenger seat of a Porsche. He cannot mask the excitement shown on his face.

“You’ve been working with us for more than a week. How do you feel? Have you been adapting well?”

“I am, Mr. Phum. The people in the residence are nice and Pun has been very helpful with teaching me new things. So far, there are no boring days working at your residence. I’m very grateful that you offered me this job”.

“That’s good to hear. I want to know your honest opinion now that you know about our nature. What do you think of…our kind?”

“Ohh…I still think that vampires are intimidating in some ways. But I always believed that vampires are also just like us – there are the good ones and there are the bad ones. My parents never taught me that vampires are evil creatures. And they were right. Living at your residence confirmed the fact that kind vampires exist”.

When Phum doesn’t respond, Toey steal a glance at the man behind the wheels. He has a wide smile on, possibly acknowledging Toey’s answer and is satisfied with it.

“We’re heading to your uncle’s shop. You must’ve missed him, don’t you?”

Joy reflected in Toey’s eyes. Toey nods, vigorously. “And he must’ve missed you too! You haven’t visited the shop in years!”

Phum snickers. “Oops! He told you about that? Yeah, I missed him too. I can’t wait to see him”.

Toey can see from the car’s window: his uncle looking dubiously at the arriving Porsche now parked in front of his shop.

“Uncle Tay!”

His uncle’s expression turns cheery upon seeing his nephew coming out of the passenger seat. The said nephew immediately giving his uncle a warm hug.

“Toey! Have you been well?”

“Hello, Mr. Tay. It’s been a while”. Phum greets, with a deep bow.

“Oh my God! Finally, I see you again, son. Come in! Toey, make Mr. Phum a rose tea. That’s his favorite!”

Ohh. Pun never told him Phum likes Rose Tea. He learns something new about his employer today.

Toey brings the freshly brewed Rose Tea for the two gentlemen, engrossed in their conversation, after having not seen each other for a long time. Toey wonders, did his uncle know all this while? That Mr. Phum is a vampire?

“Toey, please prepare a bouquet of burgundy roses as usual. But today, he wants an extra-large bouquet with some other flowers. Red carnation, red chrysanthemum, scarlet sage and yellow jasmine. Please arrange them nicely”.

“Sure! I’ll get it done in a moment. Umm…uncle? Do you mind if I take some flowers too…?”

His uncle lightly laughs. “Yes, you can, son. I’ll keep them in your tabs though”, his uncle jokes. Toey scrunches his face in fake annoyance and marches his way back to the workshop to compile and arrange the flowers.

Mr. Phum made great choices: red carnation for deep love, red chrysanthemum for “I love you”, scarlet sage for “forever mine” and yellow jasmine for grace.

Phum and Toey left the flower shop with Peem’s XL bouquet and some mini bouquets Toey made for all the residents at Phum’s, as a token of appreciation for becoming his friends. Uncle Tay also supplied him some chocolates and different flavored tea to bring to his temporary home. Phum announces that they’ll be going to the cake shop next and then stop by the mall to get Peem a gift.

“You know what, Toey? Peem is different than the rest of us. He loves human foods like cakes and he drinks as well. Do you know why is that?”

Toey shakes his head.

Phum lets out a smug smile, as if looking proud. “Because he is a half human half vampire”.

Toey’s eyes grow wide in shock. Another thing he learn today!

“Now he is mostly vampire, although he still retains his love for human foods. Before 18, he was more human. He rarely thirsts for blood. His metabolism worked like human back then so there was a time when he ate so much that he became chubby”. Phum chuckles, recalling the memory. “Ahh but he was still cute though. Peem is always cute”.

What is in Toey’s mind right now? Peem is such a lucky person to have an affectionate and devoted lover like Phum. Toey wishes he would have a love story as beautiful too.

Pun is waiting in front of the entrance door. He winks and gives a thumbs up; a signal that the line is clear. Peem works at his aunt coffee shop nearby as a barista. Today, he had morning shift, so Pun was at a lookout in case Peem and Phum get back at the residence at the same time. Apparently, Peem is not home yet so they quickly bring inside their purchases for Peem’s surprise party tonight.

Phum bought a mouthwatering, squared-shaped Ferrero Rocher cake while at the mall, he bought matching denim jackets, presumably for both himself and Peem.

PEEM

“SURPRISE!”

Sounds of claps and confetti blaster fill the residence the moment Peem entered, back from his work. Peem’s bright smile further lights up the room. He pulls all of them into a hug, one by one.

Toey and Pun bring out the birthday cake, lighting up 2 big candles and 4 small candles, which presents 24 years old. After making a silent wish, Peem blows out the candles altogether. Pun then cut a portion of the cake and feed it to Peem. Peem screams in delight. “SO DELICIOUS!”

Phum moves forward and hand the roses to Peem. “Toey specially arranged this bouquet for you”.

Tan whistles, followed by cheers from the rest, all eyes looking at Toey. Toey scratches the back of his head, blush creeping out on his cheeks from the sudden attention on him.

Phum presents another gift, the matching jacket. Phum and Peem help each other put the jacket onto each other. Both jackets have kind of like angel wings at the back. The wings on Phum is silver colored while the one on Peem is in metallic gold.

“What is this, Phum? Do you want to say that the angel wings means that you’ve been sent down from the heaven to protect me?”, Peem teases.

Phum puts both his hands on Peem’s waist, gazing into his lover’s eyes, “And vice versa, love”. And he kisses Peem’s cheeks. Which earns “Boo”s from the other spectators. Toey stands rigid at his place. He is not used to seeing people giving PDA.

“Enough lovey-dovey in front of us. Here! My present!”

Q comes in between the lovebirds, breaking their moment. He hands Peem a medium sized canvas, covered by a gold fabric, the painting hindered from view.

“Don’t open it here. You better display this somewhere in your bedroom”, Q orders.

Peem can’t help but take a peek. He widens his eyes and his face suddenly turns red.

“Q! You! You! You…pervert!”, Peem points his fingers towards Q in shame.

Q just shrugs. “I guess I win the best present title this year”.

Tan and Pun tried to take a peek as well but they were brushed off pretty harshly by Peem.

They give their presents to Peem one by one with Toey being the last one to hand his. A bouquet of yellow tulips inside a white porcelain vase.

“Happy birthday, P’Peem! I wish you will always have cheerful thoughts and abundance of happiness!”

Peem delightfully receives his present, before lovingly patting Toey’s head. “Thank you, nong. You’re such a sweet kid”.

Phum clears his throat. Peem sniggers, “Seriously, Phum. You can’t be jealous of Nong Toey right now”.

The other man just rolls his eyes.

“Ohh nong, you and Pun can eat the cake with me! These guys can’t eat this”.

Tan walks to where the cake is and dabs his fingers onto the icing on the cake. “I haven’t taste human food for a while so let me take a bite”. After tasting the icing on his fingers, he pursed his lips and winces. “Eww! Yuck!”

“OI!”, Peem smacks his head. Others are laughing witnessing the scene.

“Come on, let’s cheers for another year with Peem!”, Chain holds up his blood-filled glass.

Everybody nods.

“CONGRATULATIONS PEEM FOR ANOTHER YEAR!”, Chain shouts out.

“YEAH!” Everyone clanks their glasses.

Peem thanked everyone, with a smile reaching his eyes.

“Ohh! I got everyone else a present too!”

Toey then distributes his self-made mini bouquets around. He picked his choices for each of them carefully.

A sunflower for Phum; which represents adoration.

Daisies for Pun; which symbolizes gratitude and appreciation.

White camellias for Tan; which means “You’re adorable”.

Pink dahlias for Fang; which conveys grace and kindness.

Daffodils for Chain; which depicts virtue of integrity.

Last but not least, Q receives the bouquet from Toey’s hands with a Duchenne smile, “Thank you”.

Lavender roses for Q; which stands for “Love at first sight”.

Pun and Toey are cleaning after the party while the vampires gathered around the living room, watching some viral TikTok videos.

“Nong Toey and Pun, come meet me and Peem in our bedroom when you’re done, OK?”, Phum instructs before he retreats to his room on the 3rd floor. Toey wonders if it’s about work.

“Come in!”, they heard Peem’s voice from inside the room. Peem can be seen already changing into his silk night robe, and so does his partner.

“Thank you for preparing the birthday party. I really appreciate it”.

“It’s no big deal, P’Peem! I hope you enjoyed the party”, Toey bashfully replies.

“I did. And I’ve put your present over there. Hope the flower will last for a week”. Toey is happy to see that the vase with the yellow tulips is placed on the low table near the door.

“Nong Toey”, Peem calls, in a serious tone.

“Y-yes?”

“I have a favor to ask”. Peem pauses. “I want another birthday gift”. Peem saunters towards Toey and whispers into his ears, “Let me taste your blood”.

Toey honestly doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t necessarily want to refuse. But he was certainly, a little afraid. Should he accept because they are the reason why he’s here in the first place? What if he declines? Will Peem gets mad? So many thoughts running through his mind…

Toey is internally panicking, he doesn’t realize he’s backing off from Peem until his back bumps into Pun. Pun catches him, and tries to calm him down.

“Hey, you’ve been wondering how does it feel to get bitten, right? Don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll keep you safe”.

It makes sense now why the two of them were called together. So Pun already knew Peem’s plans…

“Will you let me, nong Toey?”, Peem asks once again, in a gentler tone this time.

Toey takes a deep breath. “S-Sure…”

He can see Peem’s eyes lit up. “Good. It won’t hurt. I promise”.

Toey keeps his head down, suddenly feeling hesitant. Peem gets closer again; holding Toey’s chin up to look at him in the eyes. “Can I?”

Peem’s eyes is captivating. How could he refuse?

Toey nods slowly, giving his consent. Peem smiles. “Then, can you remove the charm?”

Toey looks back at Pun. The other human is gesturing Toey to give the necklace to him. So Toey does just that.

Peem spins Toey around, so now Peem is on his back and he is currently facing both Pun and Phum. “I just like to drink this way”, Peem declares, while undoing 3 buttons of Toey’s shirt, exposing his whole neck, as well as the upper part of his shoulders and chest. “Relax, nong. Soon, pleasure is all you would be feeling”.

Toey shuts his eyes on reflex. He feels a sting for a split second, when the fangs puncture the skin. Soon, the feeling of euphoria overcomes him. Toey is hit by sensory overload – the rush adrenaline; the heightened awareness. He can literally hear Peem sipping his blood and can feel the blood getting suck out of him. Toey lets out a soft moan, his right hand moving up to weakly grab Peem’s right arm across his shoulder, which is used to hold the human in place. The biting stops instantaneously and Toey can now feel the tickles from Peem licking his neck. Heavy breaths, mind still in a daze – Toey is a mess. An irresistible mess.

“Can Phum join us?”, Toey hears Peem’s alluring voice from behind.

Toey glances at the man in question. He has a dark expression on his face. Toey can’t be sure if it’s due to jealousy or desire. Toey can’t think; not right now. He absentmindedly responded with a breathy “Yes”. Phum slowly walks towards him, licking his lips, like a preying predator. Phum snakes his hand around Toey’s waist, leans down and bites into the veins near his collarbone. Toey gasps for air; the bite this time hurts more than the last bite. But he also experiences more pleasure as he is attacked both from the front and back. Peem is now kissing all over the back of his neck. Toey’s knees weaken, he squirms and is holding onto Phum for his dear life. Toey’s moans fill the room.

Pun hangs a lotus charm on the doorknob. A charm strong enough to keep away the smell of tonight’s activity from the other vampires outside.

With that, the first ones to taste Toey’s blood, are Peem and Phum.

TAN

Day 14.

Toey hides behind Tan, who was just coming in from the entrance door. Pun stops chasing him.

“Hey, nong-nong! What are you guys playing at?”

“He pranked me! Ugh!”, Pun frustratingly cries out.

Toey sticks out his tongue. “It’s your fault for not paying attention!”

Pun clicks his tongue. “So, Tan. What are you doing here? If I’m not mistaken, Fang was out”.

Tan snaps his fingers. “That’s why I’m here! Fang sent me here! He needs me to bring him some books from the library”. Pun and Toey nod in acknowledgement.

Tan claps his hands. “Nong-nong, let’s go to the library together? Help me search for the books, na?”, he blinks his puppy eyes repeatedly.

Pun snickers, “Let Toey help you with that. I’m going to clean up the mess this little gremlin made in the kitchen”. He gives Toey a disdainful glance and Toey retaliates by sticking his tongue out once more.

“Come on, Tan”. Toey casually holds Tan’s hand, leading him up to the library on the 3rd floor.

Out of all the vampires in the residence, Toey feels comfortable the most around Tan. The man is a ray of sunshine; always happy and pleasant. He likes making people laugh, even though Toey had to argue, that some of his jokes were dry humor. He doesn’t look intimidating either. In fact, Toey describes him as “adorable”, despite the man being 6cm taller than him.

Fang sent Tan the cover of the books via LINE to make the search a little easier, so he shows the photos to Toey as well. The library is huge, with wide collections of books since the siblings’ Fang and Phum, loves reading. They walk straight to the “Architecture section” and starts exploring.

“Tan, how did you and Fang get together?”

“Hehehe We float a krathong together during Loy Krathong, then I confessed, and he accepts!”

“That’s so cute! I want a love story like that too!”

“Ayyy you never had a lover?”

Toey shakes his head.

“Aww it’s ok, nong. You will meet the right person one day. What type do you like? Let’s say, among us. Whom do you like?”

Toey is taken aback by the sudden intrusive questions. “E-ehh?”

“Let me guess! Someone like Q, isn’t it?!”

Toey’s face is flushing crimson. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about! Wh-What makes you think Q is my type?!”

“Heh! You’re so obvious, nong. I can see stars in your eyes whenever you’re looking at Q”.

Toey’s eyes widen in shock. He wonders if the others notice too, if Q notices too. He shakes his head in embarrassment, he hopes that it’s only Tan who is attentive.

“Ahh! I found one!” Nice timing! Now, they can move on to another topic!

After confirming that they find the correct book, they immediately move on to search for the next books.

“Nong, have you ever get bitten before?”

Toey halts his actions, his noggin recalling the night of Peem’s birthday, just few days ago. In all honesty, he remembered the sensation; the pleasure. The wolfish look on Phum’s face still lingering at the back of his head. Toey remembered Peem whispering a “Thank you” before he passed out. He woke up the next morning, tucked into his bed. It felt like a hungover. Some memories are blurry; uncertain if those are real memories or part of his dream or imagination.

Back to the present, Toey answers Tan with a quiet “Yes”.

“Ohh…Was it…a bad experience?”

Toey shakes his head and beams a smile towards a worried-looking Tan. “I gave my consent”.

Tan lets out a sigh, the frown dissipating. “Must be someone trustful then. I’m glad”.

15 more minutes of searching before they finally find all 5 books that Fang asked for. They cheer in victory! Tan then put all the books inside his tote bag. On their way down, Tan offers some advice.

“Nong Toey, I’m not saying this to break your heart but you should know, that Q is a playboy”.

Toey’s heart does ache hearing that. But he is able to mask the disturbed feeling. “You’re still talking about that? I never said that I like Q!”

Tan shrugs. “Whatever you say, nong. I’m just looking out for you, that’s all. I don’t want you to have false hope”.

Toey understands Tan’s intention. He knows whatever Tan was saying is true. And truth hurts.

“Aww this is why you’re my favorite Phi! Don’t worry, I’ll only be here for another week. I won’t be catching feelings because I probably won’t see you guys again as much after next week”, Toey exclaims in a playful tone, although feeling dejected inside.

Tan, being a sensitive person, is aware of Toey’s change in voice. He can grasp the way Toey tries to cover his sadness. So he puts his arms around Toey’s shoulder the moment they arrived at the bottom of the stairs. “Nong, if you’re sad, I’m sad too. So don’t be sad, na. We can still stay in contact via LINE. We can meet up somewhere when we’re free, OK, nong?”

Toey simply nods and smiles, grateful for Tan’s effort to brighten him up.

“As for Q, you may think I’m nosy for prying into your business but again, I’m saying this for your own good. If it’s just a crush, that’s fine. But if things turn serious…I just want you to be careful in the company of a monster...” Tan pats his back. “…So that you don’t become one yourself”.

Tan’s cryptic final sentence sends shivers down Toey’s spine. He watches Tan’s back, walking towards the entrance door; standing still, until the door closes completely.

CHAIN (II)

Day 17.

Today, Toey is in charge of cleaning Chain and Q’s rooms. As usual, he would go to clean Chain’s room first, unless the man requested otherwise. As Toey enters the room, he notices something different than usual. The scent. The room smell…sweet and calming…

Toey falls on the floor, unconscious.

Chain has to admit: more often than not, he is not a good person. Following the rainy day when he failed to seduce Toey, he thirsts for the said human’s blood. Toey have a smaller build, beautiful face, entrancing eyes, tempting lips – he looks so delicate in Chain’s eyes. Just his type.

He had his eyes on Toey. He’s aware, of the secret glances the human throws at Q. He’s aware, that the human spends longer time cleaning Q’s room. He’s aware, how Toey’s cheeks tinted pink whenever Q was talking to him.

He clenches his fist. It’s always Q.

Studying in a medical field provides him with knowledge of different chemicals and how they affect the human body. In addition, he also has access to all these chemicals.

His plan is simple. Disperse the chemicals to the air, let Toey smells it which puts him to sleep.

The chemicals have no effect on vampires.

Step 1 – Done.

Next, he has to wait for the effect of the chemicals to subside; for Toey to wake up. Most probably in an hour.

He can drink Toey’s blood while he is asleep. But that won’t be fun. He wants to let Toey experience the thrill too, he wants to hear Toey’s sultry voice, he’s excited at the thought of making a mess out of Toey.

Chain carefully carries an unconscious Toey onto his bed. He grabs two neckties – one for blindfold, another one to tie both Toey’s hands together. He unbuttoned Toey’s shirt, without taking it off. He also unzipped the pants, hanging it down loose but not completely yanking the piece of clothing off. Chain likes the view. The teasing glimpse of flesh. For the whole hour, Chain just lay next to a sleeping Toey; admiring and caressing all over the human’s face and body, practicing self-control as he waits in patience till his victim regain consciousness.

Toey thought he’s awake. He can feel the grogginess from sleep inertia, yet, his vision is somehow blocked. He is unable to open his eyes. Maybe sleep paralysis, is what he then thought. He tries to move his hands. He is able to. However, he can feel both his hands are bound together. Then he feels a touch on his face. He flinches in surprise, letting out a small gasp. Later, he feels a movement next to him. With him being blindfolded, his senses heightened. He lets out another gasp, as he feels stroking on his waist. He feels a hand. Big and rough. The hand keeps touching him all over, with his moans getting louder by the second. He can’t even tell the person to stop. This feeling is new to him, he never felt this kind of pleasure before.

Toey was pulled into a sitting position. Whoever this person is, Toey doesn’t hear a single sound from them yet. The person shoves their head in between Toey’s tied limbs. Toey can now feel both his captor’s hands on his back, bringing him closer towards his captor. He can also feel breathing on his chest. Indeed, they are now so close.

“Remove the charm, Toey”. The first words Toey heard, from his captor. Toey thought that the voice is very familiar, but he can’t pinpoint who exactly the person is. Moreover, he is still in a state where he’s unsure if he’s awake or if he’s dreaming.

“Remove the charm, Toey”. The voice orders, again. Subconsciously, he did as he was told. Pulling the necklace over his head and throws it down the floor.

He did that because the pleasure is addicting. He wants more. Perhaps by removing the charm, he will get more.

Toey feels immense pleasure as his ear was licked by his captor, followed by a light bite; while the hands on his back now move up to pull on his hair. The lips then move to kiss over the trail of his jawline. The lips linger for a while on his neck, giving his neck light pecks until finally…Toey feels a familiar sting. Of fangs digging into his skin. This time, the sensual gratification increases threefold.

Toey pants heavily after the first bite. Soon, he is pushed to lay back down on the bed. The vampire hovering on top of him.

Toey’s blood turns out to be as delicious as he looks. The thought of destroying the innocence of the man beneath him is tempting. But Chain has to restrain himself. He still has respect, for Toey, for Toey’s emotion. Toey never shows any romantic interest towards him. That gesture always goes to his rival. Chain believes that kisses on the lips are something sacred. Something that is done between two partners who are genuinely in love with each other. In this case, Toey is clearly not in love with Chain. So he respects that, and he plants kisses everywhere on Toey except his lips. Chain stoops down to feast for the second time, on the other side of Toey’s neck this time. Soon, Toey suddenly turns his body to the side, abruptly stopping Chain from slurping the human’s blood. His fangs graze Toey’s skin in the process. Chain is worried that Toey could be wounded.

Chain notice tears streaming down from the blindfold. Toey is sobbing, laying on his side with his knees bent towards his chest, curled up like a baby. Chain strokes Toey’s hair again, kissing and licking the spot on his neck where Chain just digs his fangs into, in order to close the wounds.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…I…” Even if Toey doesn’t say, from Toey’s shaking legs and how he thrust his hips into the air; Chain understands.

Chain removes Toey’s pants, leaving him in his boxers, arousal visible. Chain spreads Toey’s pale legs apart, propping them onto Chain’s shoulders. He places kisses on the inside of Toey’s thighs, which earns him melodious, erotic whimpers.

Chain will let Toey feel another level of ecstasy. He will help Toey release, but without touch. He sinks his fangs into the spot where he just placed his kisses. Toey screams. In ecstasy. And he reaches orgasm. Chain is satisfied, fulfilled, accomplished.

Toey passed out soon after. Chain put Toey’s clothes back on, then he removes the bind and blindfold. He is gazing lovingly at Toey’s sleeping face, wipe away the tears and placing a lingering kiss on his forehead.

“I’m sorry”.

He carries Toey bridal-styled, back to the human’s room.

Chain finds Q standing in the hallway, in front of his own room. The man glares at his direction, who is carrying Toey in his arms.

“He was supposed to clean my room at this hour”, Q’s voice is laced with spite. What’s with Q’s expression? Angry? Jealousy?

It doesn’t really matter to Chain. Q is jealous of him all the time. Q might be known as the Maestro, but Chain outsmarts him every time.

“You won’t have your room clean today then. Sorry”.

He can hear cursing words thrown onto him as he turns on his heel to go upstairs.

After tucking Toey into his bed, Chain finds Fang and Tan waiting for him outside Toey’s door. Fang steps forward, with a solemn look on his face.

“Fang…”, Chain starts.

A heavy sound of a slap echoes throughout the hallway. Chain is startled. Fang just slapped his left cheek.

“Fang…”, he tries again. He receives another slap, on his other cheek.

Fang grits his teeth and grabs him by the collar. “You. Can. Fuck. Around. For. All. I. Care. But. Not. In. This. House. And. Certainly. Not. With. Our. Caretaker. Do. You. Understand?”

Chain never saw Fang loses his temper. Now he sees Fang’s eyes are burning. Not going to lie, this whole situation frightens him. There is a certain, distinct smell, which emits when a human and a vampire are making out. The other vampires can smell it from Chain and Toey, thus, they don’t need explanation.

Fang calls out for Pun, who sprints to the 2nd floor from the ground floor upon hearing the call of distress. “You’re closer to Chain than the rest of us, right? Teach him to have self-control. Don’t let this happen again. Clear?”

Chain glances at his human best friend. Pun looks…crestfallen…He looks heartbroken even.

It is an open secret – that Pun has been crushing on his childhood friend Chain for the longest time. Chain is always aware of the signs, even though Pun never told him honestly about how he feels.

“Pun…”

“I’ll fetch Toey’s charm from your room later”. Chain notices Pun’s eyes glistening. His best friend is holding back his tears as he scoots away from Chain.

Suddenly, Chain feels guilty. Not due to the fact that he just finished ravishing his residence’s caretaker. He is guilty for possibly breaking Pun’s heart. He rests his right hand on his left chest, where the heart is supposed to be. It’s throbbing. This feeling is unfamiliar to him.

Toey woke up tired and confused that late evening. He told Pun he didn’t remember how he passed out, much to Pun’s delight. When Toey awkwardly told him his recollection of bits and pieces of activity he’d done in Chain’s room, Pun managed to convince him that it was all just a dream. Toey was just exhausted and passed out in the middle of work. Toey believes him.

EXTREMUM NOCTIS

The room is red. Toey is sitting on a sofa chair, in his black short pajamas. He feels a hand touching his shoulder on his left. Phum is standing behind the chair, smiling down on him. Then, he feels a hot breath on his right ear. He meets eye to eye with a grinning Peem. Toey gulps. He casts his eyes downwards. Both Fang and Tan, each holding his calves on each side, also staring at Toey, with dangerous smile. Q and Chain enter the scene, bringing each of Toey’s hands up to their lips, kissing the back of his hands.

Toey leans back into the chair, breathing heavily. He doesn’t know whose hands, are now exploring his abs, and whose lips, give kisses onto his thigh. He can hear the sound of his pajama top getting rip apart, then another pair of lips brushing his neck, sucking on his skin, surely, leaving love bites. He closes his eyes, feeling highly stimulated.

“Ahh~ No…”

Toey wakes up in his own bed, in cold sweat. He also feels the wetness down there.

“Ahh~ It was just a dream…” A wet dream to be precise, that feels all too real.

It is his 2nd last day of working and technically the final night of living at the Phum’s residence. Peem already informed everyone that they will be having a farewell party tonight. Toey is a little sad, that the summer vacation is nearly over, that a new semester will start soon, that he will leave this residence, leaving Q…

Toey lightly slaps himself. “Wake up, Toey! No time to be melancholic! You have a long day ahead! Fighting!”

The day passed by uneventful, just as normal.

“CHEERS!”

Everyone clanks their glasses together.

“Nong Toey, I would like to express my utmost gratitude for willing to help out with the chores in this residence for the past 3 weeks. I’m sure Pun is the one who is more thankful for this arrangement but I’m equally as grateful that you accept to serve us during this holiday”, Phum expresses his thoughts. “Now, come forward and share your farewell speech. Applause, everyone!”

Everybody claps their hands, and Toey shyly walks to the front.

“Thank you, Mr. Phum, for giving me the opportunity to speak here tonight. Where should I start…Ever since the past few years of living in this city, I actually always passed by this residence. Whether I’m going across another town or handling deliveries around this area, I always notice the existence of this residence. Only about a month ago, that I finally knew who lives here. That day when Uncle Tay was unwell, opens a new door in my life. I was sent here for flowers delivery, and met Pun. Pun is sunny, even when it’s storming outside. At least that’s how I see him. Thank you, Pun, for helping me adjust to the new environment. I still thought that everything was a strange disposition, but I’m really thankful to Pun for recommending me to experience working and living alongside…vampires… I mentioned this to Mr. Phum before, but I’m going to say it again for everyone to hear. I believe there are good and bad vampires, and living under one roof with everyone is a prove that kind vampires exist. That vampires are evil creatures is just a myth. So I would also like to thank everyone for being kind and patient with me.

Thank you, P’Peem, for always treating me to sweets. Your bakes are extremely delicious, I’m very impressed!

Thank you, Mr. Fang, for always siding with me in arguments. Even though sometimes I’m aware that I was just being egotistical and you’re simply going along with the banter with Tan and Pun, but you’re always able to find something to support my arguments. For me, that’s such a caring gesture.

Thank you, Tan, for channeling your merry energy, bringing encouragement and optimism throughout my days living here. You’re the best Phi, you’re fun to be around! But your jokes are too much sometimes. I suggest you to work on your comedy skills! You and Pun can be a comedy duo. Yes, that will be epic!

Thank you, P’Chain. Even though I didn’t see you much since you’re busy with your studies, I know that you’re a warm person. You’re friendly, approachable, quick to offer a helping hand and very empathetic. You’re also diligent! I thrive to be someone like you!

Thank you, P’Q, for allowing me to come into your room to look at your paintings whenever I’m feeling down or whenever I was struck with a gloomy mood. I understand why you were called the Maestro. I can gaze at your paintings for hours without getting bored. Your paintings swoon me over, providing me with warmth and joy.

Last but not least, thank you very much, Mr. Phum! For agreeing with Pun’s idea of letting me work here, for actually giving me a chance to work here, for everything that you’ve done to make my stay here as comfortable. I really appreciate it! And I would also like to thank you on behalf of Uncle Tay, for always choosing and buying from the flower shop!

I’m leaving tomorrow but I already miss everyone…I hope this goodbye isn’t final. I hope we could still be in contact and meet again in the future. Really, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for everything. This summer vacation has been memorable and I’ll keep it that way forever”.

Toey was sobbing by the time he finished his speech so everyone circled around him, patting his back, giving him support. Everybody is going to let loose tonight. It’s going to be a long night.

“Toey, which university are you attending?”, Q asks. Both of them are sitting on Q’s balcony, gazing at the stars, away from the others who are still partying hard downstairs.

“Niyomsil University. Why do you ask?”

A moment of realization painted on Q’s face. “Ohh”.

“Why~~~”, Toey keeps pestering, braving himself to pinch Q’s cheeks.

Q slaps his hands away and storms back into his room. Only to return outside with a small canvas.

“Here, for you. If you miss me, which I know you will, just look at this painting and think of me. I’ll be there for you in spirit, always rooting for you”.

Toey suddenly feels shy. It’s a painting of Toey. He recognized from the painting the denim clothes he was wearing few days ago. In the painting, he was laying on his stomach on Q’s pillow, on top of Q’s bed, in Q’s room. His face flushes red, seeing his expression in the painting. Is that how he looks at Q? He screams internally.

“Thank you, P’Q! I’ll treasure it”.

The reason why Q asked, was because he wanted a confirmation. Toey’s answer gave him that confirmation. He had met Toey before. On a trip to a resort in Pattaya last year. His room was nearer to the café. That one morning, he was unable to go back to sleep, so he walked around the resort, searching for inspiration for a new painting. Q is very selective in his drawings so after failing to find what he desired, he went back to his room. By the time he arrived at his room, he found a group of students having breakfast together at the café. One such student caught his eyes. That student is sitting on a round daybed, enjoying the morning view. Something about the whole scenery, sparks his artistic soul. He quickly set up a blank canvas and let out his painting tools, and started painting. He only caught a glimpse of the student’s face, but he’ll surely remember his features, especially now that Q already made a portrait of him. Before the students leave, Q managed to read the table tag: Niyomsil University.

But of course, Q didn’t let Toey know. He can take his time sharing about his life with Toey later. Why? Because they will surely meet again sooner or later. Surely.

VALE

Toey finishes packing his belongings and ready to go return to his home after he was done cleaning Fang and Phum/Peem’s rooms. Phum hands him an envelope with 300,000baht in cash and a small box, wrapped with wrapping paper and ribbon.

“A token of appreciation from all of us”, Phum says. Phum offers to give Toey a ride back home.

Everyone is present this time to see him off. He hugs them one by one, say one last farewell and the car drives away, leaving him with a contented, fulfilling memories of a summer vacation.

The gift from Phum’s residence is a music box. It’s a song that Toey always heard inside the house, but he never questioned who played it or if the song means something. Toey thought it was just a song; mutually fancied by all the residents’ there.

NOVUM SEMESTRI

The first day of the semester is exhausting. Adjusting to new schedules are overwhelming; meeting new classmates and reconnecting with old ones are exciting yet draining; figuring where his classes are, as well as getting supplies are time-consuming and tiring; the professors’ expectations and information on assignments also gives him anxiety about the new semester.

Toey sighs in relief when the day is over. He walks together with his friend, Matt, towards his motorcycle, ready to go back home.

Elemental pain

I can’t quite reach the place I saw in my dream yesterday

I thought the things that stir up my life should be more pure

Toey looks around rapidly, trying to find where the singing came from. That’s the song that he listened everyday for the past 3 weeks!

Standing a few meters to his right, is Q, wearing a similar uniform to his. Toey’s eyes widen in wonder and excitement.

“P’Q!”, Toey calls out. Q walks up to him. Toey is starstruck by this sight of Q. The man is charming even in the uniform. “You didn’t tell me that you enroll here too!”

“I wanted to surprise you. I’m starting my Master’s Degree here. How was it? Surprised?”

Toey nods his head vigorously.

“Well, I guess last week wasn’t a goodbye. You’ll be seeing me around a lot from this day onwards”.

“Q? Ohh, is that Toey?”

Both of them (plus Matt, who was left out from the conversation), turn their heads towards the source of the voice.

Oh boy, Chain is here too.

{TO BE CONTINUED}

Hello everyone! Thank you for reading till the end! I was planning for it to be just a short prompt but in my usual fashion, I overdone it haha When I have more free time in the future, I will most definitely re-write this with more details and an actual plot. As you can see, there is actually nothing going on in this story. It’s simply my guilty pleasure writing, to feed my imagination with the idea of Toey X Everyone AU. I didn’t think I’ll make a vampire story in the first place but after having some mental pictures, ohh, the concept is fascinating. So I wrote it. My plan is maybe to have Toey being this “chosen one”. I can’t come up with reasonings and backstories this time so perhaps I can add that next time. I want to also be able to clearly define the conditions of vampires in this story, for e.g. sunlight doesn’t burn them, but they’ll worn out easily if exposed outside for a long time, etc… I want to make my own vampire lore hehe

Q didn’t manage to drink Toey’s blood this time wkwkwk But since this will definitely be QToey endgame, he will have all the time in the world to have a taste of Toey next time! I like the idea of Q and Chain being rivals. Jealous Q in the series is HOT. I’m living for that wkwkwk I would also like to introduce Matt, Mick and Beer next time! ChainPun endgame is also set!

I will leave you guys here for now. Thank you again for reading till the end. Hope you enjoy and find yourself re-reading this story whenever you missed We Are. Bye!

P.S. Originally I posted this at my twitter. If you are interested, you can check out @TsukiHoshi17 on twitter. I need more #WinnySatang moots! XD

[justwearthegoddamncardigan]

All in two days - Part 2

Read Part 1 here, full masterlist on pinned post

Newt x gender neutral!reader

Direct continuation of Part 1

Initially set in the Scorch Trials, but deviates from canon in this chapter. The end result is basically the same, but I've just taken pieces of canon and used them to fit my story

Warnings: canon-typical violence, language (normal swearing and Glader slang)

The communicator starts ringing as your finger hits the call button, and someone picks up on the fourth ring.

You lift the device to your ear. "Hello?" you say shakily.

"This is Marie, speaking from WCKD Base 7. How can I help?"

"I have-" you clear your throat. "I have information to share: the location of escaped Immunes."

There's a pause as you hear shuffling in the background, following by typing noises on a keyboard. "What are the names of the Immunes?"

"Wait," you say. "I'd like something in return."

"Of course." Marie's voice is flat. "And what would that be?" she asks.

"My sister is sick, but I don't know what the illness is. It's not the Flare though," you tell her. You think for a second, then add "I also want supplies; food and water."

"WCKD will have the resources to cure your sister's illness. And, if the information you share is valuable, we may be able to provide you with additional supplies too. WCKD is good like that."

"Right," you say, swallowing.

"The names?" she prompts.

"Oh, yes," you hesitate for a second, then list them out, your voice clear. "Winston, Frypan, Aris, Minho, Teresa, Thomas... and Newt."

Silence on the other end. Then: "Please hold on, I'm transferring you to another line."

You wait, chewing your lip nervously.

"Hello? Is it true you have the whereabouts of subjects Thomas, Teresa, and the rest of the group?" It's a male voice.

"I- yes," you confirm.

"What's your name?" asks the man.

"Y/n L/n," you tell him.

"Lovely to meet you, Y/n. I am Assistant Director Janson. The people you've named are extremely important to us. If you help us find them, you will be highly rewarded."

Shit. You remember your friends, if you can still call them that, telling you stories about this Janson guy.

"I can find them for you. The stayed at my place for a while, and left just this morning."

"Excellent," says Janson. "If you can put me on speakerphone now, I'll direct you on how to send us your location."

"Okay," you say numbly.

You follow his directions and send your location to WCKD, before ending the call.

You bow your head, unable to believe yourself for what you've done. WCKD is really coming, and they're gonna take your friends away.

You give yourself a mental shake. You only knew them two days, no matter how close you felt to them over those days. Your sister is your first priority.

Nothing else happens in that day, but the next morning, you wake to the deafening sound of rumbling engines.

You rise up off the storage room floor, where you'd fallen asleep. You swing the door open, running out to see a helicopter-y kind of thing landing, it's massive size casting a shadow over you.

A man walks off the helicopter-vehicle, followed by a small group of guards. You recognise him immediately, recalling Minho's description.

"Janson! The Ratman! He's literally a shucking rat. Little bitch," says Minho, arms waving animatedly as he speaks.

Teresa's laugh echoes through your mind, and you can perfectly picture Newt's amused grin.

You shove thoughts of them from your mind and step up to meet Janson.

"Y/n," he says, extending a hand. "Good to meet you in person."

"Janson," you shake his hand and force a smile.

"Listen, the people you've seen are very valuable to me. We're willing to treat you very generously if you deliver on our agreement."

"Thank you very much. We'd appreciate that a lot."

"Well then, let's begin." He claps his hands together.

"As a show of our faith in you, our own Berg here has a medical wing and experienced doctors to look at your sister now. Pack your belongings and prepare to leave. Do you need someone to help you get your sister out?"

"Uhh, yeah, that'd be good."

He nods. "I'll arrange that now, go pack your stuff."

You pack quickly, but as you move to leave you spy Newt's leather wristband on the table. You'd taken it off last night, weighed down by guilt as you waited for WCKD to find you.

You pick it up and look at it, thinking for a bit. You decide to fasten it to your upper arm, just above your elbow, and pull your jacket on, covering the band.

As you shift your bag onto your shoulder, a group of doctors walk in rolling a stretcher behind them, carefully moving your sister.

Then, you follow them out, turning to take one last glance at your home, and step onto the Berg.

You trail behind them as they roll your sister to the medical wing, moving her to a bed.

"Y/n," a voice greets you. You turn to see a doctor smiling kindly at you. She's tiny, about a head shorter than you, and has black hair cut into a sleek bob framing her pale face.

"Hi," you say, offering her a small smile.

"I'm Dr Liu," she says. "My team and I will be treating your sister. Don't worry, she's in good hands."

You nod, genuinely grateful.

"You've got a meeting with Director Janson right now, but I promise we'll give you an update on your sister soon," she tells you, gesturing to Janson as he appears in the doorway.

"Y/n, this way please."

You follow him to the control centre at the front of the Berg, where you can see out the windows.

"Which way are we heading?" asks Janson. "And how far do you think they'll be?"

"They left before midday yesterday, and they're travelling on foot with an injured person, so they wouldn't be that far," you explain.

"They said they were going towards the mountains, and they started in that direction when they left.” You point out a window.

"I see," says Janson. "You got that?" he speaks to the Berg pilot.

"Towards the mountains," acknowledges the pilot, and the Berg begins to lift off the ground.

You assume you're dismissed, and walk back to the medical wing to check on your sister.

When you get there, you see her hooked up to a bunch of monitors, heartrate beeping steadily and an intravenous drip in her arm administering fluids.

"How is she?" you ask worriedly.

"She'll be just fine," responds Dr Liu, pressing buttons on some machine. "The disease is actually pretty common, and would have been easily cured with medicine if you had access. Modern medicine wouldn't have let it get this bad." She gives you a sympathetic look.

"So it's not long-term or anything? You can cure it?" A spark of hope appears.

"Yes," she replies, smiling. "In fact, she should be awake in just a few days."

You release a sigh, the weight of years of worry lifting away.

You're directed to a small bedroom, complete with a simple bunk and closet of plain clothes.

You collapse into the bed and sleep the afternoon away.

When you wake, someone is knocking on your door, telling you to meet in the control centre. There's a clock in your room that tells you the time is 7:15pm.

You get up and rifle through the closet, picking out black pants and a white tee, which you pull your jacket over, giving it a tug as it snags on the leather band.

"We've located them," announces Janson as you enter. "They've sighted the Berg and are hiding now, but we're preparing a team to go down and bring them in."

You step closer to the window, looking down over what looks like an abandoned city. They're right down there, Newt and Thomas and everyone.

You whirl around to Janson. "Is there a way- Do you think I could... not be seen by them?"

Janson raises an eyebrow, but you hold his gaze. "We can arrange that," he concedes. "But listen, whatever they told you when they were staying with you, it's wrong. They paint us as the villains in their story, but all we're trying to do is save humanity from a disease."

"Right, yeah, but I just..." you trail off.

"I see. Thomas and his little group can be quite the charmers." He scoffs a little. "We can make sure they're nowhere near your room, if that's what you want. But just know that by helping us, you're on the right side of this fight, Y/n."

"Yeah, thanks," you say flatly, and you turn and leave.

You end up in the medical ward, sitting by your sister's bed. Her face is soft in her sleep, and you watch as her chest rises and falls.

"Y/n," Dr Liu steps in and you give a small wave in greeting.

She hands you a device. "Janson wanted me to give you this. They've got long range cameras on the Berg, so you can see what's happening down below."

She looks a little conflicted. "Do you want to watch?" she asks hesitantly.

You definitely do not want to watch... but the screen is right in front of you. You can't not watch. You nod and take the screen from her, already regretting doing so as it turns on.

On the device, you can see WCKD's team, holding guns. The view is zoomed out; long range cameras can probably only see to a certain distance, but you can still see the small images of your friends.

You subconsciously twist your hands in your sister's blankets as they start running. You identify Teresa by her long hair, running alongside Thomas and the rest of the group as they disappear under a building, out of the camera's view. Your heart clenches when you realise Winston isn't with them.

When they emerge back into sight, they split up, scattering in different directions. Your heart pounds as the WCKD officers give chase, hot on the heels of Minho and Frypan.

They take down Fry first with an taser shot that leaves him writhing on the ground, and you watch Minho turn to try and save him before being shot himself.

The camera moves to focus on another group as someone knocks Thomas out and corners Aris in a dead end.

You turn the screen off as the camera shifts to show Teresa trying to help Newt along, his limp worse than ever.

You set screen down and try to take deep breaths, blinking fast as your eyes start to sting.

Dr Liu sits down beside you. "I'm sorry," she says.

You don't respond for a bit, and you reach out to cover your sister's hand with your own, rubbing your thumb over her knuckles.

"I cared about them," you say. "They were my first friends in... as long as I can remember. It's just- I knew Elle wouldn't make it if I didn't get help. I had to do this for her."

"I understand," she says. "WCKD is very... There's a lot of give and take. Everyone here had to sacrifice something to receive the privileges they give us. To be a part of the team that's gonna save the world, you're gonna have to lose some things."

She leans forward, looking you in the eyes. "You're not a bad person, Y/n," she insists.

"Thanks," you say quietly. You're grateful for her words, but you still can't believe them when you just watched your friends getting hurt and captured.

"Y/n." It's Janson. You turn to look at him, and notice that he's sporting a decent bruise on his left cheekbone.

"What happened to...?" you gesture at your own face.

He rolls his eyes. "Let's just say that Thomas was definitely not happy to see me."

"Ah, I see." You contain a smirk despite the current circumstances.

"I'm going down to see them now. You wanna tag along?"

" 'course not," you say. "I thought we agreed we wouldn't let them see me."

"Yeah, but you could just sit out of sight and listen in," he offers.

You know full well that he's just messing with your head by letting you listen; just like he did when he told Dr Liu to give you the device with the cameras on the screen.

It's clear he wants you to stop believing in your friends.

Despite knowing all that, you sigh and follow him anyway.

"Stay here," he instructs when you arrive.

You stand with your back to the solid wall of the cell. Newt and the others are right behind you on the other side of it. If you walked just three steps over to where Janson is standing now, you'd be looking them straight in the face.

"Hello everyone," says Janson with a gloating grin. He really does look like a Ratman.

None of them respond, except for Minho muttering "Shuckin' slinthead."

"What was that?"

"How'd you find us, anyway?" Thomas spits out, stopping Minho from throwing out any more insults.

"Oh, we had you the whole time," says Janson. Liar. "Plus, it helped that we met someone along the way. Someone who knew you."

Shit, he's gonna bring you up.

"Y/n," Teresa breathes, realising quickly.

"That's right. After we got the information out of them, it was all too easy to find you."

"You better not have touched them," snarls Newt.

You jolt as you hear a loud noise; Newt must have slammed his arm into the bars of the cell.

Turning your head, you watch Janson lean closer to the cell, and you can picture him face to face with Newt.

You strain to hear what Janson says, but you can't make out his whispered words.

All you see is his satisfied smirk as he steps away from the cell.

You don't move as Janson strides out, instead closing your eyes as you lean your head back against the wall.

"I told you we shouldn't have left them," you can barely hear Newt's broken voice.

"They wouldn't've been any better here with us," says Thomas.

You can't stay here, listening to the way they care for you.

You move abruptly and run to a bathroom nearby. You brace your hands on the sink, staring into the mirror. That face looking back at you has betrayed your friends. They're all in there, worrying about you, when they're the ones being flown to their deaths, and you're the one that sold them to WCKD.

You focus your thoughts on Elle, alive and healing. You think about the sweet, bubbly smile that you haven't seen in years. You're doing this for that smile.

⭒----⭒

The Berg lands in a place known as the Last City, and you're moved to a tall building which is apparently WCKD's main compound.

By now, two weeks after arriving, your sister has gotten a lot better, and you've spoken to her in her bed every day since she woke up. You haven't seen Newt and the others since that day on the Berg.

Elle actually started standing and running yesterday, for the first time in years. You'd given Dr Liu an incredulous look, and watched Elle dance around the medical ward for hours.

Today, after eating lunch with Elle, you move to the labs, where scientists are working on the cure for the Flare.

You've become an apprentice of sorts, training under Dr Liu and her colleagues. You only do simple jobs like cleaning used micropipettes and beakers, but you've also been learning things from the scientists around you.

The science wing of the compound is massive, which makes sense, but it also means you get lost a lot. Today, you've probably taken about five wrong turns, and you're trying to retrace your steps when you see someone hooked up to a sinister-looking machine.

Everything goes cold as you realise. Holy shit, it's Newt. You push the door open and enter the room, and the scientists ignore you - probably because you're wearing a lab coat just like theirs.

One of them presses some sort of 'start' button, and you stand, frozen, as the heartrate monitor starts beeping faster and faster, and you watch in horror as Newt starts writhing and screaming. He's not in pain though, he's scared. You can see his face twisting in terror.

You rush out, the door swinging shut behind you, and you bend over as bile rises in your throat. Tears sting your eyes as you grab another scientist, intercepting him as he moves to enter the room.

"What's happening in there? What are they doing to him?" you demand.

The scientist's eyes flick to your badge. "This isn't your area," he says.

"What. Are. They. Doing."

"He's in a fear simulation. Fear stimulates the production of the enzyme we're trying to extract to make the cure," he tells you. "Even though this subject isn't immune, our tests have shown that he still produces the enzyme we need."

You stumble back, unable to hear any more, and leave the science wing, running out towards your room.

⭒----⭒

You gulp in deep breaths of air as you stand by your window, and you rest your forehead on the cool glass.

That's what they're doing to them. Forcing them into their worst fears and using them like they're nothing but tools.

You look out at the city below. Billboards flash with huge letters, large enough for you to read them from your room on a high floor. NOTIFY WCKD OF ANY OCCURRENCES OF THE FLARE. HIDING CRANKS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.

One particular sign catches your attention. REWARDS WILL BE GIVEN FOR INTEL ON REBEL MOVEMENTS.

A crazy thought starts to form. You clench your hands, resolve hardening as you make your decision.

You may have failed your friends, and they'd be right to hate you if they found out what you did, but maybe you can get them out. Maybe you can still save them.

⭒----⭒

That afternoon, you attend your training in the labs as usual, then dinner with Elle and bed. The next morning, you're ready to go.

"I'd like to request a meeting with Assistant Director Janson," you tell the receptionist on your floor.

Within an hour, you're knocking on the door to his office and walking in, shoes clicking on marble floors. "Ah, Y/n. It's been a while."

"It has," you agree. "I've come today to ask to be allowed out in the City."

"Really," he raises his eyebrows. "And why's that?"

"At the start of all this, you said you could reward my sister and I with a lot if I told you how to find Thomas and everyone."

"You don't think you've been given a lot already?"

"I have, and I'm very grateful," you say. "But I'd like to move my sister out of here when she's given clearance by the doctors. And, I want to go out early to scope out the City, you know, get a better feel for it before we move out."

"Will you still be working with us? Wendy says you have a lot of potential," he responds, referring to Dr Liu.

"I will, and I've seen the trains from my window. I'll make the commute in to work here from wherever my sister and I decide to live."

He hums for a bit, eyeing you from the other side of the desk.

"I'm happy to go out with guards for the first few days, if you don't trust me," you say with a casual shrug.

“That’s fine. I’ll have guards escort you just on your first trip, only so you don’t get lost.”

“Sounds good,” you say, holding in your sigh of relief.

“Before you go, there was something else I wanted to ask you about. I’m going to be visiting your friends soon. I’m sure you’ve heard by now about how they’re helping further our cause. Would you like to join me to meet them?”

His baiting style is old now. You shake your head. “No, thanks. I’m trying to move on with my life now,” you tell him.

“Right, a good choice.” He believes you. “Well then, I’ll call some guards now for today’s trip.”

⭒----⭒

Over the next few days, you wander the streets of the City alone, without the masked guards watching your every move after the first trip.

You’re trying to figure out how to communicate with the rebels.

While exploring one afternoon, you see strange marks near a sewer entrance. They look like boot marks. You grab a torch from your backpack and drop down into the sewer.

You quickly click your torch off when you see someone else’s light up ahead, but you’re too late. “Who’s there?” a male voice calls out.

Screw subterfuge and subtleness, you decide.

You click your torch back on. “My name is Y/n and I’m here to find you. I want to help you get into the City. In return, I need your help to save my friends. They’re trapped inside WCKD headquarters.”

One of the rebels scoffs at you, but the other one speaks up. “Interesting… Alright then, follow us.”

You end up being driven to the rebel base. When you arrive, the people that brought you in lead you to some sort of main office. They knock on the door, and then leave you there alone.

“Come in,” a voice sounds from inside.

You cautiously open the door and step in. The room is shrouded in darkness, but you see the silhouette of a man, with a masked guard on either side of him.

“So you think you can get us in,” says the man.

“That’s right,” you say, and you quickly outline your plan for him. “Do you think that could work?”

“Interesting,” he muses. “And all you need in return is…”

“My friends. Newt, Thomas, Minho- WCKD has six of my friends in their compound. I need at least one person to help me get them out.”

“Wait,” one of the guards interrupts, stepping forward. The man, Lawrence, gives a warning growl. Like, he actually growls.

The guard speaks anyway. “What are the names of your friends? All of them?”

You list out all your friends’ names.

“Impossible,” whispers the guard.

“What?” you ask.

“I was in the Maze with them, I’m Gally.” He lifts the mask off his face.

“You knew them? Holy fuck.”

Gally turns to Lawrence. “I’ll go with Y/n on their mission. You and the rest of the group can enact the second stage of their plan.”

“Well,” Lawrence drags out the word. “Alright then. Get things ready on your end,” he says to you. “We’ll prepare for your plan. Gally, get them a communicator. Y/n, call us when you’re ready.”

You nod, and take the communicator from Gally, who leads you out of the room.

“You really know Thomas and Minho and everyone?” he asks, expression unreadable.

“I do,” you say. “How come you weren’t with them?”

He sighs. “Here, I’ll drive you back, and I’ll tell you everything.”

Over the drive, Gally summarises everything, including how he was possessed or stung or something, killed a boy, almost got killed by Minho, and then found by the rebels.

“Jeez,” you say when he’s finished. “That all sounds insane.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “So what’s your story?”

You hesitate for a bit. “It’s actually my fault that they’re with WCKD,” you admit, and then you explain all of it.

Gally is surprisingly understanding, given that you gave up his friends to WCKD.

“I’m not gonna tell you you did a good thing,” he says bluntly. “But I can see why you did it. Your sister and everything, it makes sense. There wasn’t another way.”

“Thank you,” you say as he drops you off at the sewers. “I’ll call you guys to get the plan moving.”

You wave as he departs, and you start the walk back to the compound.

⭒----⭒

You take an elevator up to the science wing, wanting to get some study in before going to bed.

You’re making your way to your usual room when you hear a commotion down a hallway. You walk faster as you follow the noise.

“Stop! Just leave him alone!” You freeze as you turn and hear Thomas’ voice. “Haven’t you put us through enough?”

You step closer. If you turned the corner, you’d be in the same corridor as them.

“Fine, take them back.” You hear Janson’s commanding tone. “But you’re next tomorrow, Thomas.”

Footsteps start moving towards you. Shit, shit, fuck. Where can you go? You’re turning to the elevators when Janson rounds the corner... And Aris and Thomas are right behind him.

"...Y/n?" Fuck.

Hi everyone, thanks for reading!

I had a little trouble with this chapter cause it got way too long, and I kept trying to pace it faster so I could finish up the story in 2 chapters, so it's a little messy.

But, I've ended up splitting this chapter into 2 separate parts, and so this story's probably gonna end up with 3-4 chapters total.

Unfortunately this chapter was a lot of filler and background/set up - sorry about that, but I promise the payoff will be worth it in the end

Part 3 will be up soon since it's basically already been written, I just decided to cut it out of this chapter

@regulus-black-223048 ❤

If anyone wants to be tagged for next chapter just lmk

[lady-wallace]

Something Wicked: Part 2 (JJBA- Vampire Hunter AU)

New chapter of Vampire AU is now up!

~~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

Read on FF.net

~~~~~~~

A figure moving ahead to the next car caught Bucciarati's eye then, long ash blond hair swung loose down the stranger's back. He frowned and followed along, coming out into the next car, which was oddly empty at the moment. Empty even of the man who should be there.

Bucciarati spun in an instant, drawing his sword and leaping back as the man came at him with a glinting snarl, falling into a crouch where Bruno had been standing.

"Well, the famous Bucciarati," the man said, licking his lips as he straightened up. "I feel honored that you'll be my opponent. I've heard a lot about you."

Bucciarati stared back firmly. "May I know the name of my opponent?"

The man—rather, the vampire—bowed deeply before straightening up and tossing his hair over his shoulder. "Tiziano, my dear Hunter. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

Bruno set his jaw. He had. Tiziano and his partner Squalo were known mercenaries, belonging to no vampire families and working for anyone willing to pay. He'd never met them personally, but their descriptions had been passed around. It seemed his suspicions were indeed confirmed.

"I assume you and your partner decided that the girl would be a profitable target," he said in disgust.

"Not quite," the vampire smirked, him and Bucciarati still eyeing each other up, waiting for a moment to strike. "We were hired specifically for the job. But, in case you're wondering, yes it was very profitable—and will be even more so should we deliver the goods as promised."

Bucciarati seethed inwardly and was about to reach for one of his daggers for a surprise hit, when the door behind them opened and he glanced back just for one second to see one of the train staff come through with a rolling cart. Then when he looked back, all that was left of Tiziano was a blast of displaced wind as he went back through the door.

"Shit," Bruno muttered, hurrying through after him, catching Tiziano in the next car, throwing open a window.

"Try to catch me, Bucciarati," he smirked as he scrambled through and up to the top of the train.

Bruno had little choice but to follow, knowing he had to stop the vampire before he could get back to the car with Trish.

[gamesbyalbie]

The Cursed Journey

PART 4: DELIVERED

"Ani!" She screams. My eyes dart to the holoscreen. "Jebal! Aniyo, ani—" The recording cuts off. A dagger of searing nausea sinks into my gut.

The screen wipes to a shot of two immaculately dressed people sitting behind a round desk. "Those were the last words of renowned author Kim Ji-yeon. Late last night emergency officials were called to her Busan apartment only to find her unresponsive body lying on the floor of her study. It's a real tragedy, Ken."

The newsreader's voice is high and light. Paired with her lilting tone, she sounds eternally optimistic. Her well-trained composure betrays little to no genuine emotion. It's all manufactured. Saccharine. Made to make you feel but not feel too much. It makes me fucking sick.

Couldn't she be more somber? A little more serious? A woman is effectively dead. Has this lady forgotten that? Has everyone? Is this just so commonplace now that people are totally numb to it?

I quickly finish my sentence and shut my laptop.

"It sure is, Farah. We go now to Gerry Hale who met up with author Ody Specter outside of the Writer's Ward this morning." I snort. More like ambushed.

The feed cuts to a waist-up shot of myself with only Gerry's shoulder visible. The Ward's sign is clearly visible in the background and I'm framed in line with the steps. Damn, they're good. I fucking hate it, but I have to admire good craft when I see it. I try to remember if that's where I was actually standing or if that's part of their edits.

Leaning back in the lobby's squeaky vinyl chair, I prepare for the worst.

"Morning, Mx. Specter."

"Yes. Good morning."

"Do you know if Kim Ji-yeon will be admitted to the Ward this morning?"

"I do. She'll be arriving from Busan soon."

"Is Ji-yeon the latest victim of the Writer's Curse?"

"As far as I'm aware, yes."

"And you knew her well, right? I'm sorry for your loss. What was the nature of your relationship?"

"Good friends. We met through the industry. I've always looked up to her." 

"Naturally. She was a paragon of success which makes her fall all the more troubling. There can't be more than two dozen publishing authors left. How does it feel being one of them?"

"I—I don't know."

"Does the threat of the curse trouble you?"

"I guess, but what can I do? Just work and hope."

"And I'm sure you're grateful to your patient fans. Their support must help."

"For sure."

"And quickly, before we part, when should we expect new material?"

"I know I'll have something new coming out by the end of the month."

"Amazing. I can't wait. Thank you so much for your precious time."

"Of course. Have a good day."

There's a hard cut to Gerry standing outside the Ward. "Kim Ji-yeon's publisher has also confirmed that her upcoming releases will come out as scheduled. Additionally, her unfinished work has already been sent to a content factory so, no need to fear, this isn't the last we'll see of her work. Back to you in the studio, Ken."

The feed returns to the news anchor. "Thank you, Gerry. Now, what's the best way to pack for space trav—"

And I've lost all interest.

Huh. I don't think any of that transpired in exactly those words, but releasing the unedited audio is more trouble than it's worth. I really don't like that "I know" they added concerning my next release, but overall I'm somewhat grateful for the added focus on my fans. That'll make them feel good. Reinforce how much they mean to me.

"Ody?" Sam's standing in the door. Weird. I normally hear it open. "She's here, finally."

I slap my thighs and rise, only groaning a little despite my mental and physical fatigue—a small, meaningless victory. "I thought Kelly said an hour. What happened?"

"They got held up at customs, apparently."

How the fuck does a person in critical condition get held up at customs? "But she's stable. Right?"

"Yes. She's great. Or, as good as she can be... you know. Given her current condition." They grimace and avert their gaze. I like that about Sam. They've worked here since the Ward opened and still struggle navigating conversations like this. It's incredibly endearing. Sam clears their throat. "We're just making her comfortable now. Here." They approach, clipboard in hand. "This is the last thing we need you to sign."

"Sure." I loathe this part—signing for my friends' bodies as if they were packages.

"What are your plans after this?" Sam asks.

I snort and pass the clipboard back. "What do you think?"

"Besides writing. Like, do you have anywhere to be?"

"No. Not in particular." I tilt my head to the side. "Why? You get off soon or something?"

Sam chuckles guiltily. "No. That's not what I meant and you know that. It's just—" They look back over their shoulder then take a step closer. "If you wanted to go sit with him..."

Shock lifts my brows. I blink several times. "Visiting hours don't start for, what?" I glance at my watch. 05:52. Fuck. "Three hours?"

"And the shift change happens in two. Think you can be out of here by then?" Sam gives me a kind smile.

I can't help but return it. There's another reason I like Sam. "Yeah, I think I can work with that." I place my hand on their shoulder and give a soft squeeze. "Thank you, Sam. Really. I appreciate you." 

I'm just clearing the doorway when I hear Sam say, "Oh, and Ody?"

"Hm?"

"I finally read Neo Olympus!"

"Oh, really?" I cross my arms and lean against the door frame. "What did you think?"

"Ahh!" They mime explosions going off on either side of their head. "Loved it! Zo's my favorite but Dio's starting to grow on me."

"That's awesome. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"It was so good! I have to ask, who is that person in the black coat? The one causing Zo's visions."

Thanatos. One of my all-time favorite characters. They aren't actually the source of Zo's prophetic visions (that's Apollo), Than just appears in them frequently since he's Death itself.

But I can't tell Sam that. Not yet. Instead, I wink. "You'll just have to wait and see."

End of Part 4 of ? • LAST PART • NEXT PART

More Cursed Journey • More by Albie • Image Source

The amazing music that inspired this:

[puppyeared]

Haven’t seen anyone else talk about this but... do you think kris closing their eyes when prompted to peek into Asriels room was their defiance to the player

[bakugosbratx]

Hiiii! CONGRATS on your milestone! You really deserve them and many more! I saw that request were open and would like to request some noncon/yandere Bakugou where if the reader doesn't cum in said time he will let her go and if she does he claims every single hole? Feel free to sprinkle in bdsm I like it all and I'm a masochist ^^

Warning: 18+ content. Sexual intercourse, masturbation, sex toy(s), cursing, yandere tendencies, abuse, noncon, dubcon, degrading, punishment, overstimulation, breeding kink, etc.

Check out my other works here

A/N: Hello! Thank you so much. I love this idea. Yandere is one of my favorite things to write along with bdsm. I’ve actually been thinking of doing a personal one shot like this so I’m happy you requested it. Hopefully it meets what you’re looking for.

Words: 2,605

You thought you were so slick, masturbating while the pro-hero was at work. You thought you were so clever buying that vibrator online. It was hidden inside a stuffed animal so when Katsuki glanced over your purchase before hitting submit, he never noticed. He thought it was just another stupid stuffed animal you wanted for your collection.

You kept the toy hidden inside the bear, but once Katsuki left, you unzipped the back to pull out the pleasure device. The amount of orgasms and cum you produced was more than you have in months. This was going to be your little secret and Katsuki will never even think to look. Except, you seem to not have noticed Katsuki had cameras. They are hidden, of course, but they are there.

They saw everything and so did Katsuki.

You’re used to Katsuki coming home in a mood when he had a long day at work and honestly, Katsuki could expect the same out of you. So, when Katsuki arrived home with his usual attitude, you didn’t notice.

“Y/N,” he called as he closed the front door behind him. His work boots were already off and resting by the couch along with his gauntlets, mask, gloves, and any other armor. You jogged over to him, a smile on your face as you approached the man.

“Welcome home, Katsuki!” You greet with enthusiasm, wrapping your arms around his neck and a soft kiss on the cheek. This was no different than your normal act you put on. Katsuki trained you to act this way, after all.

Katsuki’s hands rested on your plump ass, his red eyes clearly not showing the same amount of enthusiasm you held. When your irises met his, your smile dropped into a concern frown.

“Been good while I was away?” He asked as usual.

You nodded, “yes, sir.”

“Is that a lie?” Katsuki interrogated, raising an eyebrow. You started to sweat and tremble within his hold. Sadly, he noticed.

“No, not at all.” You managed to utter out. A little too quick for your own good.

Katsuki chuckled scornfully. “Really? Because,” his fingers reached into the front of your pants to swipe your delicate pussy. You started to become flustered as he pulled out his slick covered fingers, clicking his tongue at his confirmed suspicion. “You’re one wet little girl.”

“I-I,” you stammered, tears welling in your scared eyes. You mentally cursed yourself for not keeping track of the time. You were enjoying time with your new toy when you heard the door unlock and Katsuki call your name. Your whole core is a slick covered mess and Katsuki knows about it.

“Bedroom,” he delivers a hard slap to your ass with one hand while pointing towards the hall with the other, “Now.”

Not pushing your luck, you did as your told. Katsuki was closely behind you, his dark crimson eyes glaring at the back of your skull. You should have known better than to think you were going to get away with this. Now, you have to suffer through whatever punishment Katsuki feelings like handing out tonight.

Walking inside the bedroom, Katsuki examined the room. The only thing out of place was the soaked gray towel laying on the wooden bed frame. You did not have time to hide it. You could lie about the towel, the vibrator? Not so much.

“I-I’m sorry, K-Katsuki.” You whined as he grabbed the towel. He shook his head.

“I’m sure you are. Strip.” He ordered. You did exactly that.

You stood still, the air hitting your soaked cunt. Goosebumps arises on your arms and you shiver slightly. Katsuki eyes your slick covered pussy and thighs.

“Bend over the bed, slut.” Katsuki demands, pointing towards the bed. Tears are streaming down your face as you do as your told. He spreads your legs apart more so your cunt can weep some more. Using the soaked towel, he cleans you up. You let out pathetic apologies and whimpers, but this did not make Katsuki any less angry.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki.” You repeat with a sniffle, hoping he will show you some mercy when he punishes you. You both know he is a merciless man, though. Your apologies are useless.

Giving your ass another hard slap like earlier, you let out a yelp. “Stand up.” Katsuki orders. As expected, you listen. Katsuki retrieves a dry towel from the bathroom and lay it down on the bed. Your heart is racing and you are clearly nervous.

“Lay down on your back.”

You lay down on your back. Katsuki grabbed your wrist and tied rope around it then proceed to attach it to the bedpost. He did the same action with each limb so you are spread eagle on the bed. So many questions raced through your mind. You didn’t dare ask what his cruel mind wanted to do to your exposed body, but his devious smirk and invading gaze did not help you draw good conclusions.

You were too busy in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Katsuki retrieving your teal vibrator. Your eyes grew wide as he shake it in front of your face. All the dots are connecting and now you understand why he is so mad.

“Look familiar?” He chuckled. “Thought you would really get away with it, didn’t you? I’ve done told you I see everything.”

“Katsuki—“

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N. I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuses and pathetic apologies for the rest of the night. You’ve done lied to me more than once. I need to teach your lying ass a lesson.” Katsuki scolds.

Turning the sex toy on the highest setting possible, he lays the vibrator on your sensitive clit. You automatically moan and sob. Katsuki snickers.

“Such a selfish whore. Always want your pussy pleased, but never want to pleasure me in return.” He growls them walks closer to you and grabs your chin so you are forced to meet his gaze. “That changes today. I’ll make you a deal. You don’t cum within,” he gazed at his Rolex then back at you,” ten minutes, I’ll let your ass go. If you cum, though, you are stuck with me for good and I’m going to stuff every hole you got. Deal?”

Not giving you much of an option, you nod. You so desperately want to escape Katsuki. You miss normalcy. You miss your friends and family. You miss the freedoms of being a normal human being. This is your ticket out, you better take it.

Gently slapping your cheek, he smirks. “I’ll come back to check on you in a bit. Have fun, cum loving slut. I’ll have fun stuffing you later.”

You watched as Katsuki left the room. Your moans filled the empty space and your pulsating cunt is already begging for dear release. You struggle against the restraints, panting and whining. You wanted out. Katsuki did not tie the rope gently at all. Even if you were strong, these restraints would be hard to escape from.

What was once enjoyable is now being used as punishment. Regrets seep in. You have already overstimulated your poor pussy today. You are exhausted and all you wanted to do is rest, but the loud vibrations are preventing you from doing so. You attempted to withhold your cum. You wanted to so badly. Not only for a chance of freedom, but you will be dammed if Katsuki fills your holes. You did not want that man’s filthy hands anywhere near you let alone his erected cock.

You did your best to wiggle the device off of your clit, but it was no use as an orgasm arise. Gasp escaped your lips as your pussy cried. Your cum covered your cunt, vibratory, and even squirted onto the bed. You began to feel flustered, but your punishment was not over with. You have several more minutes left and Katsuki does not plan on coming in a minute too early. You will be covered in your own arousal by the time he arrives.

Just like he wanted.

You reached your climax again and again, leaving the towel, sex toy, cunt, and thighs soaked. You’re sweating, panting, and out of moans to release. Another orgasm overcame you when Katsuki walked in. A smug grin was plastered on his face as he leaned against the doorframe, watching you meet your next high. This made it even worse.

“I came just in time. I get to see you be a filthy slut in person.” Katsuki teased. You wanted to glare at him, but your eyes are rolling back and any insult came out as incoherent babbles. Your pussy released more cum much to your dismay and Katsuki’s enjoyment. Embarrassment washed over you as Katsuki came over to pick on you some more.

“You done squirtin’ yet?” He snickered. “You soaked the whole damn bed.”

“Katsuki, please,” you whine and struggle against the restraints, “make it stop.”

“Aw, is someone going to cum again, isn’t she?” Katsuki coo’s, faux sympathy clear in his tone. You shake your head no, but by your lewd faces, he can tell your close again. He glances at your whimpering pussy then back at you. “Yeah, you are. Go ‘head and cum for me. I know you got plenty in there.”

You don’t even have the energy to protest anymore. Any fight you have left has vanished as you release, closing your eyes in the process. Katsuki was sure to watch every moment of it, too.

Katsuki removed the vibrator, turning it off. You let out a sigh of relief, but that relief is short lived once you remember the deal. Katsuki is not going to wait until you are ready to be quote-on-quote ‘stuffed.’ No, he is a man with needs that you agreed to meet if you failed your part. You were doomed from the start, in all honesty. There was no way you were going to succeed and you both knew that.

You were untied, sitting up on the towel. You did not enjoy sitting in your pool of cum, but as usual, you have no say in the matter. Your eyes never left Katsuki as he put back the items. Before putting the sex toy away, he looked at you with the slick covered device in his hand.

“We’re keeping this for future use.” Katsuki smirked. You sigh, regretting even buying the damn thing to begin with. It was only a matter of time until Katsuki got his greedy calloused fingers onto it.

Katsuki returned over to you, looking down at you with disgust. That almost felt worse than the punishment itself. Yes, you hated Katsuki, but somehow, you still craved his approval. You did not like making him unhappy. Your body and bones depended on you making him happy.

“Like sitting in your own filth?” He arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“No.” You answer, bowing your head down in shame.

“Why? Don’t like being reminded how much of a disgusting whore you are?” Katsuki tsk. He has always been the degrading type, but when he is angry and trying to prove a point, he is much worse.

“No.” You replied, whimpering slightly. You refused to look at him, but you know he is enjoying this. He enjoys putting you in your place. He enjoys winning.

Katsuki began taking off the rest of his work clothes. His erected cock is already throbbing from watching you bust everywhere. He may not have been in the room physically, but he sure did enjoy watching you downstairs on the flat screen. He didn’t even need to turn on the sound because your moans traveled down to the living room.

“Get in the position I like you in.” Katsuki instructed. Tears stream down your face. You didn’t want to do it. You’re tired and just the thought of Katsuki putting his length deep within you disturbed you emotionally.

“You deaf or somethin’?” Katsuki growls as he grabs you by your hair and gets close to your face. “I said get in the fuckin’ position.”

You scurry to do as your told, Katsuki letting go of your hair so you can do so. Face down, ass up is Katsuki’s favorite position to fuck you in. He loves seeing all of your exposed holes to please and toy with. Call him greedy, but he knows you secretly enjoy it too. At least, that is what he tells himself as he makes you moan out his name.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Katsuki praises as you get into position. He spreads you open more so he can get a nice view of all of you. Your cunt is damp and ready for Katsuki’s length, but he is deciding to be nice. “Which hole you want me to fuck first?”

Neither, you thought.

“Any.” You huffed out, wanting this over with already. Your annoyed tone bought you a hard slap to your ass. You wince in pain.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki.” You cry, instinctively. “My pussy, please.”

Katsuki rubs your ass cheek in approval. His hands hold onto your hips, positioning you the perfect angle to take all of his dick. The tip rest at your weeping entrance then proceeds to slide inside. You cry out in pleasure and pain. No matter how wet you are, no matter how many times Katsuki has sex with you, your cunt will never be able to handle all of his girth. Your tight walls will always hug his length to his enjoyment. Katsuki just can’t get enough.

Katsuki continued his constant rough rhythm, delivering a few slaps to your ass and thighs in the process. He loves seeing your ass bounce as he thrust deep into you. The way you sing him beautiful melodies of moans, groans, and whines just encourages his behavior.

“Katsuki—“ You cry, incoherently, as he hits your ass again.

“What’s the matter? Too much dick for ya?” Katsuki mocks. “Bet that stupid little toy of yours can’t make you feel this good. Look at you, can’t even make coherent sentences. Such a,” he grunts as his dick twitches deep inside you, “dumb fuckin’ slut.”

You grip the bedsheets as Katsuki pushes down on your tailbone to move a slightly different angle. Your breast still bounced though they were pressed against the soaked cotton beneath you. You tried to muffle your moans, but Katsuki will not allow that to happen. He wants to hear you stroke his ego. He wants to be reassured he is making you feel this amazing.

Katsuki continued pumping into your sore cunt until he met his goal. You have no choice but to milk every single drop he has to offer. Once you are nice and full of his cum, he taps your putter thigh.

“Sit up.”

As commanded, you sit up. Your back is pressed against Katsuki’s chest. His hand hugs your neck, squeezing it nicely. You cough slightly, looking up at him.

“Think I better take care of this mouth of yours next. Seems to get you in the most trouble.”

“Please no.” You whisper, more tears falling. Katsuki releases your throat, now holding your chin, and brushes them away with his thumb.

“Don’t want me to stuff your dirty little mouth, hm?”

“I’ll be good, Katsuki.” You swallow the lump that formed in your throat, doing your best to sound small. He liked when you sound weak. “I promise.”

“Y’know better than to make promises you can’t keep. You’ve broken several of them already. Be a good girl for me and get on your knees.”

“Yes, Katsuki.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[btsqualityy]

Fools Rush In: Chapter 3

Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Strangers-to-lovers, age gap!AU (reader is 30, Jungkook is 23), Angst, smut, fluff

Summary: You deliver the news to Jungkook and he makes his own decision.

Warnings: None to note.

WC: 2.1K

Two weeks later, you found yourself staring blankly at the large number “25″ that was on the front door of what you had recently found out was Jungkook’s apartment. 

You had come to Seoul to compete in the Korea Open so you decided to try and look Jungkook up. You had Yoongi get in touch with some of the organizers of the French Open in order to get his information and luckily, he lived in an apartment right in the city. 

Even though you had made the decision to keep the baby and raise them alone if you had to, you did feel as though Jungkook deserved to at least know so that he could make his own decision. That’s why you had been standing in front of his door for the better part of 10 minutes, trying to work up the courage to knock on the damn door. 

Just as you raised your hand to knock, the front door flew open, almost making your heart beat out of your chest. 

“Are you the delivery woman?” A tall, broad shoulder man asked and you shook your head as you lowered your hand.

“No. I’m actually looking for Jeon Jungkook,” you replied. 

“Ah, he’s inside,” the man told you. “Would you like to come in?”

“Yes, thank you,” you smiled, waiting until the man had stepped aside before you walked inside and slipped off your sandals. 

“I’m Jin, Jungkook’s roommate,” Jin introduced himself as he shut the front door. 

“I’m Y/N L/N,” you said. 

“Wait, you play tennis right?” 

“Yeah, that’s me,” you nodded.

“I though you looked familiar!” Jin exclaimed, making you laugh. “What are you doing here to see Jungkookie?”

“Uh, I’m just,-”

“Hey hyung, was that the food?” Jungkook asked as he strolled out of his bedroom, walking over to the front door before freezing in his spot when he saw you. “Y/N, hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled, lifting your hand and waving a little. 

“What are you doing here?” He wondered as he paced over to you. 

“I’m sorry for just popping up like this but I needed to talk to you,” you stated seriously as you looked at him and although you could tell from the raising of his brow that he was confused, he turned to look at Jin. 

“Can you give us a second hyung?” Jungkook requested and Jin nodded.

“It was nice meeting you Y/N,” Jin smiled and you nodded to him before he walked away and stepped into another room next to the one that Jungkook had come out of. Once the door closed behind him, Jungkook looked at you again. 

“Do you want to come sit down?” He offered, gesturing to the couch. 

“Sure, thanks,” you murmured as you walked over to the couch, sitting down on the edge and Jungkook sat himself down next to you. 

“So, how have you been?” He wondered. “It’s been like three months since the French Open right?”

“Yeah, and I’ve been ok,” you shrugged. “Just getting ready for the Korea Open.”

“Oh, you’re competing in that?” 

“Yep.”

“You’re gonna kill it,” he smiled and you couldn’t help the way that your cheeks warmed up at the praise.

“Thanks,” you chuckled. “What about you, how have you been?”

“Good, good, can’t complain,” he said. “Just been working a lot but that’s it really.”

“Still doing photography?”

“Yeah, that’s what helps pay my half of the bills,” Jungkook laughed. “I’m sure you didn’t come here just to ask me about photography though.”

“I didn’t,” you giggled awkwardly. “So, do you remember the night of the French Open, when we spent the night together?”

“Don’t I?” He smirked. “I was a little miffed that you left without saying goodbye but I figured that the whole “drunken one night stand” thing wasn’t typical for you.”

“It’s not and I’m sorry for that, by the way,” you apologized. “I kind of panicked when I woke up.”

“I get it, don’t worry about it,” he waved his hand dismissively. “But why are you asking if I remember that night?”

“Well, um, I kind of...maybe....might’ve gotten pregnant that night,” you revealed. 

“Yeah right,” he laughed loudly. “Be serious Y/N.”

“That’s the terrifying thing Jungkook, I am being serious,” you insisted. “I’m pregnant.” The smile slowly slipped off of Jungkook’s face as he realized that you weren’t joking, and you watched as he abruptly stood up from the couch and began to pace the length of the living room. 

“What the fuck?” He muttered. “We used a condom.”

“It had to have broken.”

“You’re a woman that plays sports, wouldn’t you be on birth control?”

“I haven’t been in a committed relationship in two years and I don’t do the whole “one night stand” thing, remember?” You explained. 

“You literally disappeared on me and had me wondering if the whole night that we spent together even fucking happened and then suddenly, you show up and tell me that you’re pregnant,” he huffed, pausing his pacing in order to look at you. “I’m just supposed to accept this?”

“I know it’s a lot to take in and it’s out of nowhere,” you began. “It only takes one time though. So yes, I am pregnant and you’re the father. I thought you deserved to know.”

“So does that mean you’re going to keep it?” He questioned and you nodded your head. 

“Yes, I am.”

“I don’t think I can be a father right now Y/N,” he sighed, resuming his pacing. “I just graduated from university and I’m up to my eyeballs in fucking debt that I only just started paying back and I’m only 23! I can’t be anyone’s father at 23!”

“Look, you don’t have to be involved,” you said and he stopped in his tracks. “I only came here to tell you. I can raise the baby on my own if I have to.”

“And what, I’m left to be the big bad guy who isn’t in his own kid’s life?” 

“Any decision that you make going forward is your own,” you told him. “I didn’t want you to find out somewhere else because I am going to have to go public with my pregnancy eventually, and I didn’t want to keep the baby from you if you did want to be involved. I just wanted to tell you so that you could make an informed decision, that’s all.”

Just then, a door opened and Jin walked back into the living room. 

“Hey Jungkook-ah, Taehyung said that he wants to go out for dinner so I canceled takeout, that ok?” Jin asked and it took Jungkook a few seconds to focus before he looked over at his hyung. 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Jungkook agreed easily. 

“I should get going,” you suddenly said, getting up from the couch and reaching into your purse, pulling out a card before walking over to Jungkook and handing it to him. “This has my number and the address of where I’m staying for the next few weeks on it. Take all of the time that you need to think things through and then let me know.”

“Alright,” he replied and you gave him a small, closed mouthed smile before walking to the front door and letting yourself out. 

......................................

“Y/N’s pregnant,” Jungkook confessed, two bottles of soju deep into dinner, which caused both Jin’s and Taehyung’s eyes to widen. “And I’m the father.”

“Tennis legend Y/N L/N?” Taehyung asked for confirmation and Jungkook nodded. 

“That one.”

“How the hell did you hook up with her?” Jin laughed. 

“Met her at the French Open, we talked for a little bit, and then went back to my hotel room,” Jungkook replied. “I woke up the next morning and she was gone so I didn’t think much of it. It was just a one night stand, you know?”

“Is that why she showed up and why you’ve had a bottle of soju in your hands since we got here?” Jin wondered and Jungkook nodded again. 

“Yep.”

“Well, are you gonna be involved?” Jin asked. 

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, yelping when Jin reached over and smacked the back of his head.

“What the hell do you mean, you’re not sure?” Jin scoffed. “You can’t just have a child out in the world that you don’t know.”

“Wait hyung, just because Jungkook consented to sex doesn’t mean that he consented to having a baby,” Taehyung pointed out.

“He consented to the possibility of having a baby when he didn’t protect himself and wrap his dick up,” Jin shot back. 

“Actually, I did but it broke,” Jungkook muttered before taking another gulp of soju. “It’s not like I don’t want to be there though. In fact, my first instinct is to call her and tell her that I’ll be there for whatever she needs.”

“What’s stopping you then?” Taehyung questioned. 

“She’s just...she’s one of the biggest athletes in the world and she’s gonna go down in history as one of the greats while I’m just a 23 kid who doesn’t even know where my life is going. She has it all together and she doesn’t really need me. Hell, she might even be better off without me.”

“It’s not about if she needs you or not though, it’s about you being there for your child,” Jin told him. 

“She said that she could raise the baby alone if she had to,” Jungkook mentioned. 

“Just because she can, it doesn’t mean that she should have to,” Jin stated and for some reason, that sentence stuck with Jungkook as he swallowed down the rest of the soju that was in the bottle. 

......................................

A few days after you showed up to his apartment, Jungkook couldn’t get you or the baby out of his mind. He never expected to be in this situation at only 23 years old but the more that he thought about it, he realized that he wasn’t completely...afraid of it like he first thought he was. 

Sure, he somewhat freaked out when you first told him and then went into catatonic shock afterwards but the more that he thought about it, the easier it became for him to warm up to the idea. 

Jungkook always wanted kids and even though the two of you weren’t married and weren’t a traditional couple by any means, he knew that you could be a good mother. You were determined, hardworking, and passionate and those were all qualities that he admired in a person. He figured that if he were going to have an unexpected baby with anyone, then why not it be you? 

He was also a person that believed in fate and destiny. If he managed to get you pregnant despite the two of you using protection and you still chose the keep the baby even before knowing if Jungkook was going to be involved or not, it all had to be a part of some larger plan that neither of you were privy to. 

In the end, that was the thought that he decided to put trust in and that led to him finding the card that you had given him, dialing your number. 

“Hello?” You answered a little breathlessly.

“Y/N, it’s Jungkook,” he said. “Did I call at a bad time?”

“Not at all, I was hitting the ball around with my coach,” you chuckled. “That’s why I’m out of breath.”

“Ah ok,” he nodded. “Well, I just wanted to call you because I’ve been thinking a lot about you and the baby, and I’ve decided that I want to be involved in their life.”

“Really?” You gasped softly.

“Yeah. I mean, I can’t just let you raise them by yourself when you didn’t create them by yourself,” he sighed. 

“I don’t want you to feel forced though, Jungkook,” you explained. “I know that this is a weird situation but I don’t want you to resent me or worse, the baby. I meant it when I said that I can do this own my own if need be.”

“Just because you can do it on your own, doesn’t mean that you should,” Jungkook pointed out, echoing what Jin had told him and you just smiled softly to yourself. “You’re gonna have to be patient with me though, because I don’t have the slightest idea of how this whole parenting thing goes.”

“That makes two of us,” you giggled. “But we’ll figure it out together, ok?”

“Alright,” he agreed.

“I have my first doctor’s appointment in three days, on Thursday and you are welcome to come if you want,” you offered. 

“You haven’t had a doctor’s appointment yet?”

“I couldn’t get one in the States before I had to leave to come here for the Open so I just figured that I’d wait,” you told him. 

“Oh ok. Well, yeah,” he replied. “I’d love to come.”

“Cool. I’ll text you the details, ok?”

“Ok. Bye Y/N,” he said. 

“Bye Jungkook,” you smiled before hanging up the phone. As Jungkook pulled his phone away from his ear, he couldn’t help but to feel oddly at ease about the whole situation. He felt deep down that everything would be ok, and he just hoped that it actually turned out that way as well. 

......................................

Tag List:  @mwitsmejk @hey-youre-appreciated @bettyschwallocksyee @jaiuneamesolitaiire @knowlestaehyung @missseoulite @afangirllikeme-blog @fan-ati--c @d-noona @bang-bang-bangtxn @claricedelune @daydreambrliever @dunixxd @unicornbabylover @paperpurple @addictedtohobi @bbtsficrecs @bts-junseagull @eltrain80

[lustbile]

What Are The Odds?

JungwooxReader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: semi public (restroom) penetrative. some grabbing and groping @ the beginning.

Note: if you’ve never played what are the odds here’s a very brief explanation. Person A wants something from person B. Person A asks what are the odds, person B says a number, for example 25. Both person A and B say a number between one and the given number and if they both say the same number person A wins. I know some people do extra rules sometimes including numbers divisible by 2 or something idk but i don’t care. 💜

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“Jungwoo, get your hand out of my pants.”

It was a harsh command, your words coming out quiet but sharp as you spoke through your teeth. Your less than forceful grip wraps around his wrist, and your foggy mind weakens the way you push at his wandering hands.

“You’re not wearing any pants,” he counters, far too serious for your liking and his greedy fingers desperately trying to dig deeper into your underwear shamelessly.

“Oh so a skirt gives you permission to be a pervert,” you swat at his hands again, huffing and pinching his skin as you turn every direction in search of your friends coming back, “they’re going to be back literally any second so can you please behave?”

—

—

“You’re no fun,” he finally obliges, his tone completely joking as he accepts defeat but not before pinching the skin of your belly in retaliation, “if they walk over and my hand is in your underwear, I think that’s their fault for being friends with us.”

Exactly on the queue of your hand connecting with his shoulder in an annoyed wack, you see your friends returning to the food court table you two sit at, completely oblivious smiles on their faces as they balance trays of food.

——

“What are the odds?”

“Hrm?” a small sound of confusion slipping out from around the mouth full of food you’re struggling to chew.

It was a small lull in conversation and everyone started to trickle into their own side conversations that had prompted Jungwoo to lean over and breath hotly against your ear with the sudden and confusing question. He had an issue with bringing you into the middle of a conversation that he had started only in his head, luckily for him you had a tendency to find it a bit charming, but at the moment your mind was occupied on willing yourself not to choke.

“What are the odds,” he speaks slower this time, as if a change in pace adds any context in the slightest. You finally look more at him, and notice that he’s all twitchy where he sits, his hands wringing together as he seems anxious and giddy for something to happen, “that you follow me to the bathroom right now.”

“For what?” you ask with a faux ignorance, only partially hoping it’s not for the reason you’re thinking.

“What do you mean for what?” he asks a bit louder than he probably intended, pulling the attention of one of your friends momentarily, but an eye roll and a shake of the head from you perfectly portrays ‘don’t worry, Jungwoo is just being Jungwoo.’

“You know exactly for what,” he speaks in a tone that makes you feel like you’re being scolded, but after a rough swallow, you can only smile at his dramatics, “so what are the odds?”

You huff quietly, dropping your fork clattering onto your plate to add dramatics, your bottom lip becoming your own personal chew toy as you glance around the relatively empty food court and preoccupied friends.

“Fifteen,” you finally respond after a moment of him doing nothing but glaring at you in anticipation. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to follow him and cause some chaos, but you feared saying ten would look too eager, and twenty just left more of a chance of it not happening than you wanted. Yes, you wanted to leave it to fate, but there’s nothing wrong with manipulating fate just a little.

“Fifteen,” he confirms with a grin, his legs wiggling beneath the table as he turns to face you more, his shoulders slouching and his eyes widening as he waits for your completely undivided attention to lay on him before counting down.

“Three, two, one....”

“Eleven.”

It’s in their air, same word, same number, but two different voices speak it. With a sinking heart, but warming belly, you throw your head back with a sigh when you realize he’s won.

“Excuse is up to you, since you’re such shit at what are the odds,” he taunts, only one dial of annoying away from calling you a nerd and taking your lunch money, “but you better be in the single person bathroom in ten minutes or you’re in trouble.”

He stands, giving some unnecessarily detailed explanation about where he was going before tripping over his feet towards the bathroom he’s been eyeing since the idea popped into his brain. You can only sink down into your seat and glance at the time on your phone as you wait for the perfect moment.

——

It was exactly eleven minutes after Jungwoo had disappeared that you decided to stand yourself, hoping he actually found a way to follow through on his earlier threat.

You mutter something about drinking too much water this morning, and a promise to check on Jungwoo if he still wasn’t out when you were done in hopes to mask what you’re really getting up to do. The chorus of acknowledging grumbles and a few playful ‘have fun’s seemed to be reassuring enough, and with a tug at the hem of your skirt, you're scurrying towards the bathroom you saw your boyfriend disappear into not long ago.

You stand at the door for a moment, pushing it another minute past your time limit partially to make the boy on the other side of the door squirm, but also to wrap your mind around what you’ve let him convince you to do.

It’s when you hear him quietly hiss in pain from messing with something he probably shouldn’t be touching at all, that you let out an airy laugh through your nose and lean against the locked door.

You knock gently at the door, whispering a taunting ‘guess who?’ in between taps, and before you could step back, he swings the door open, and you’re stumbling in.

“I said ten minutes,” he wastes no time scolding you for your poor listening skills, his hands grabbing for your waist and pushing your chest against the wall, “ten minutes is a perfectly reasonable time to come up with an excuse and follow your boyfriend to the bathroom to fuck isn’t it? So what could have possibly taken you so long?”

“Well, Jungwoo,” you start, fully prepared to pull something incredibly stupid out of thin air to use as an excuse, but when he presses his hips against your ass and you feel just how excited he had gotten just from his wandering hands earlier, you begin to stutter over your words, “m-maybe I just umm lost track of time?”

“Lost track of time?” he asks in a sarcastic and even borderline bitchy tone, “definitely doesn’t have anything to do with a little threat I made without even thinking earlier would it? Pfffft no how could it?”

You can’t even bite back, deliver the same level of idiotic sass that had attracted you two to each other in the first place. Not with your face pressing against the cold wall and his hands moving faster than you can process down towards your thighs.

He lets out quiet grunts of appreciation when he starts to push your skirt up and around your hips, a big evil smile crawling across his face when he sees that he had guessed perfectly correct, and you were in fact wearing his favorite pair of panties. (He swears he could pick them out from millions of pairs just from the way the elastic bites into his wrist.)

You’re pressed tighter against the wall, your panting breaths almost syncing with his own when he starts to roughly grind his denim clad crotch against you. His lack of snarky comments from the ways you’ve started to whine tells you you’ve lost him, and your thighs start to shake and tremble as you squeeze them together tightly, trying to relieve the pain from your sudden neediness and impatience.

“Jungwoo come on,” you whine, swinging your arm aimlessly behind you to swat at him, “we don’t have all day, they were already getting weird about how long you were taking before I left.”

“Fuck okay,” he says with hesitation before pulling away enough to shove your underwear down to pool around your ankles while muttering to himself.

You begin debating in your head whether or not you should touch yourself, before answering yes, you absolutely should, when you hear him struggling with his belt.

The first minuscule touch of your middle and ring finger touching your clit makes you gasp and press your forehead against the wall, the circling motions falling just short compared to the way he knows how to touch you and you can only huff in frustration from the stupidity of your own hand not knowing exactly what to do.

It’s the sound of his jeans falling around his knees and a small clicking of a cap that pulls you from your inner grumbling, but it’s the cold shock of the jelly on his fingers pushing between your thighs that makes you jerk your hand away from your body to mirror the other laying flat by your head.

“Why do you have lube?” you ask in shock and even a bit of arousal from how much curveball he could be, but you’d never admit the second part willingly to his face.

“I think the better question is why don’t you?” he asks with an air of arrogance as he pulls his fingers away and begins to audibly coat himself in the substance, “looks like im the prepared one between us for once.”

“Yeah prepared for something you weren’t even sure was going to happen.”

“Yeah but you’re letting it happen aren’t you? Loser,” regardless of the name that he throws at you, he seems to have lost his patience with the back and forth you two have started. So with the last last syllable still slipping between his teeth, the hand he doesn’t have wrapped around himself grabs you around the waist and he’s shoving himself almost completely inside you.

You don’t have time to muffle the surprised moan that falls from your tongue, instead all you can do is pray no one was close enough to the bathrooms to hear it as he starts to rock his hips against yours.

“Can’t judge me for the lube now can you?” it was rhetorical, but even if it wasn’t you would have been able to answer him. With the second thrust into you, he had already been able to seat himself fully into you, the size of him still shocking you to this day and you can only clench and squirm against him.

His hands are clumsy as the trace around your body. His non dominant hand struggles to push under the hem of your shirt to grasp at your chest, while his other dips below the skirt he was so thrilled you had chosen to wear in search of the space between your thighs.

His breath is hot and quick pants when he leans his chest against your back and pushes his face into the crook of your neck. You almost feel like you’re suffocating from how much he begins to surround you and you really for the life of you cannot think of a worse placed to pass out in than a food court bathroom with your boyfriend fucking your brains out.

It’s when his own fingers dig into your clit and his warm tongue drags up the side of your neck, so you remember the existence of your own hands. You shove one up your now stretched out top to tangle tightly with the one he has kneading your chest, while the other slams tightly against your mouth to muffle the moans and squeaks that now beat against it.

“I wanna make you come so fucking hard,” he grunts in your ear with every ounce of honestly he can pull from his chest, his hips showing you exactly how truthful he is with the way they thrust roughly against you, pushing and pulling you apart in a way that makes you feel like he’s trying to take you apart at the seams, “wanted that since I saw you put on that cute little skirt on this morning. You just live to taunt me don’t you?”

You can’t answer, too afraid that taking your hand even the slightest amount away from your mouth will expose to the whole food court exactly what’s happening behind the closed door. Instead all you do is push back against him, trying hopelessly to match his thrusts and getting a sharp bite to the soft skin of your neck in retaliation.

“Better come quick before they think we got lost in here,” he says too coolly, his ability to not sound like he’s on a brink of orgasm when you know for a fact he is almost driving you up the wall. But unfortunately, his words and the fact that you're just as much, if not closer to your finish than him, has you melting back into his chest.

Even when your thighs begin to tremble, and you accidentally step back onto his foot, his fingers don’t stutter in the slightest. The arm pushing against your chest keeps you from squirming away from him, and even with your thighs trying to push him out, he keeps his fast and unrelenting pace on your hypersensitive clit.

You’re pushing up on your toes, his one foot still getting crushed under your weight, and your neck inhumanly arching to lean your head against his shoulder as you start to come. You can hear the faint growling noise you make from behind your hand, but your mind is too busy blanking out to control anything that comes from your mouth.

You feel your eyes watering as his fingers keep moving against you to carry you through your orgasm, his own finally creeping up and making him shove himself fully inside you as he starts to come.

The feeling of him spilling inside you creates borderline unbearable waves of aftershocks to wash across you, and you can feel your body fluttering around him as you try to ruin his brain just as much as he did your own. It’s almost like a small competition sparks between you to fight against your own pleasure just to simply torture the other, but eventually once your both sporting lines of sweat on your hairlines and aching shoulders and back do you silently call it a truce.

The small room suddenly feels too hot for either of you to be anywhere close to it, but you’d rather scream than let him take his hands away from your body. You’re more than glad to shove his fingers away from your buzzing clit, but you still keep it wrapped tightly in your fist the way you do to his other.

When he pulls out you feel a disappointing emptiness but an even more embarrassing rush of fear of the evidence of his orgasm leaking onto the floor, so all you can do is whine and squeeze your thighs back together again while you and him both catch your breaths.

“Come on,” he whispers, and that and the way his hands smooth over your burning skin is almost sweet, until he swats at your ass harshly before he starts to pull his jeans back onto his hips.

“Didn’t feel like I was in much trouble,” you loudly sigh in both faux disappointment but also to help even your breathing, “guess you’re all bark and no bite puppy boy.”

He glares to the best of his ability, but his still animated brows and pouting lips makes him look hilariously cute, “you think you’re getting punished in the bathroom? Absolutely not, I’m a man of class and respect.”

“Man of respect? You just fucked me in a public toilet after a game of what are the odds.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies, weirdly focused on redoing his belt and avoiding your eyes, “anyways we should probably go, they probably already think the chicken I got was bad or something.”

“You go,” you push him aside gentle before you begin a awkward trip towards the toilet in the corner, “I’m going to get rid of the mess you made and pee all you’re gross boy germs out so you go and please try to come up with an excuse that won’t make us both look like freaks okay?”

“On it captain,” he salutes to you before ducking out in a way that makes you question if you really truly let him just put his dick inside you, but with a growing need to pee you push it aside to waddle with haste.

It’s not until you shuffling back to the table in what you assumed was a discreet walk of shame do you realize he’s done the opposite of what you asked, as when you finally reach within hearing range to the table you’re immediately met with jeers and taunts about you and your boyfriend being insatiable freaks. But at least Jungwoo has the decency to look a little ashamed and maybe even a dash of apologetic.

[let-them-read-fics]

Too Late To Apologize?

Requested By @rosiesandlilies​: “I was wondering if I can request a Rosé x female reader story where Rosie is an idol who also happens to be ur wife and since she and BP are taking over the world by storm, she starts to forget about you and whenever u ask her to spend a little bit of time with you, she gets upset and fights with you. You’re also an important person but you always make time for her. Can it be angsty with fluff 🥰”

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 6,026

Warnings / Misc: -- Angst, Self Doubt, Strained Marriage / Relationship, Crying, Some Swearing, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Oooooo lord, here we go. I am feeding 👏 you 👏 all 👏 today! This one took a while to write, but I’m pretty happy with it. I wrote it all in one go, starting at like 3am (as usual lol), so forgive me if it’s a little rough. I put a lot of effort into it, though, so I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you for requesting -- Happy reading!

PS ~ I highly recommend that you listen to these songs as you read this:

You Were Good To Me -- Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

Surrender -- Natalie Taylor

The Night We Met -- Lord Huron

I Found -- Amber Run

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤��🖤🖤🖤🖤

Hongdae, Seoul  --  8:00 PM

“Good evening, everyone! Before I open the doors, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for taking the time out of your day to stop in. We couldn’t have done this without your support, and we’re endlessly grateful. We hope you have a wonderful experience with us tonight. Now, without further ado, welcome to La Rêverie!”

To your amusement, the sizable crowd erupts into a fit of cheers once your opening speech is over. Echoes of the joyous sounds carry across the city, wiggling their way through the alleys and streets, bouncing off of the nearby buildings. The customers slowly filter in, greeting and congratulating you on their way; you’re beyond excited to start this new journey, and seeing people so happy to be a part of it only makes you more proud.

Eventually everyone makes it inside to their seats, and you join them.

--- Later That Evening ---

“Y/N, we have a private party that would like to see you. They’re eager to meet the woman behind all of this,” Pierre smirks, quirking an eyebrow suggestively. His demeanor confuses you slightly, seeing as how this isn’t the first time high profile celebrities have requested your presence -- that’s just one of the perks of being a world renowned chef. You brush off his remark as playful banter and send him to tell them that you’ll be out soon. 

---

“...yes, actually. Y/N and I were fortunate enough to meet when she was studying in Paris; we were being trained by the same chef. We’ve been close ever since. I’m not surprised that she hired me, though; I’m practically a master in the kitchen.”

At Pierre’s cocky words, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head. A small grin plays on your lips nonetheless, and you smooth out your top one more time before rounding the corner. 

“What’s this idiot on about now? Did he tell you about the time that he nearly got kicked out of our mentorship program for giving Anthony Bourdain the wrong dish?” You ask the table, sending them a glance while ruffling his hair as you come up behind him. They all snicker at that, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes; with an annoyed shove, he scolds you for bringing that story up again.

“Must you always tell people about that?”

Your smile widens, spreading cutely across your face. Mocking him is one of your favorite things to do. “Mhm,” you say simply, nodding your head for emphasis. He attempts to hide his embarrassment, but it only brings a deeper blush to his cheeks. 

At the VIP table, the suppressed sound of laughter carries over to you, and you’re reminded of your reason for being here in the first place. Upon offering your full attention to the table now, no longer distracted by Pierre, you’re met with 4 different pairs of eyes on you. Warm, yellow light illuminates the area, the classy overhead fixture emitting a soft glow to cast down on the guests beautifully. It’s cozy and inviting, just like you had intended it to be, and the sight makes you happy.

As you quickly scan over each of the girls, your brain pieces together where you know them from.

“My oh my, it’s Blackpink themselves. To what do I owe this honor?” All of the natural charisma that you possess takes over now, doing its best to override your nerves. It’s definitely not the time to fangirl over them; you have to act cool. One by one, you shake their hands, making sure to give each of them a glimpse of your award winning smile. 

Jennie is the first to speak up. “Yourself, of course. You’re the talk of the town, Y/N, how could we miss this?” The way that she says it so casually, already skipping past the formalities, puts you at ease. 

“Ah, you’re too kind. Was your food prepared to your liking?”

A chorus of approving noises leaves the table, successfully boosting your confidence in the process. “It was truly incredible, Y/N.” Rosé gushes, her adorable accent adding something magical to the simple phrase. For the first time tonight, your mind goes blank; ever since news broke of your plans for this new restaurant, you practiced to avoid this very thing. As you stand there floundering for a beat, she takes notice of the effect that her words have on you; it doesn’t take long for her to realize how much she loves to make you blush.

“Thank you so much. We’re so glad to have you here tonight.” 

“We’re happy to be here! Rosé hasn’t stopped talking about it for the past week.” The Australian’s eyes go wide as Lisa exposes her, and she shoots the younger girl a shocked look. Lisa only smirks at this, her shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant shrug. Jisoo nods in confirmation, adding, “Yeah, she’s been super pumped.”

On the inside, you’re freaking out. Rosé was that excited to try out your creations? There’s no logical explanation for that one. Your own surprise is evident in your voice as you respond, “Oh really now? And why’s that?”

“I-I’ve just heard a lot of great things, you know? You’re pretty talented.” She tries to sound confident, but the stutter in her voice betrays her. The tips of her ears are burning with embarrassment, and after sending her yet another smile, you decide to spare her by changing the topic. 

“Well thank you, again. It’s truly a privilege to cook for you girls.” The conversation continues from there, effortlessly moving from subject to subject, and you love how welcome they make you feel. Occasionally you excuse yourself to check on the other guests and ensure that they’re enjoying their dinner, and every time, Rosé finds herself sorely missing your presence. Despite only officially meeting tonight, she feels like she’s known you her whole life. The two of you clicked instantly, and she can’t seem to get enough of you.

After spending the better part of 2 hours chatting and getting to know one another better, you grow bold and ask the question that’s been rolling around in your head all night. 

“Would you guys like to come back to the kitchen for a bit? I could give you some tips and we could make a couple dishes, if you want.”

Rosé nearly interrupts you from how eager she is to accept the offer. The second that you’re done asking, she’s already saying yes. The others happily agree as well, and soon you’re leading them to the back to get prepped.

_________

“Just like this, everyone. Cut thinly here,” you inform, using your knife to point to the areas in question, “...then turn it and follow through with the slices. It should come out diced, like so.” The girls observed your swift motions, peeking over at the small cubes once you’re finished. Things continue on like this for a while, and soon you’re halfway done with the veggies while they’re barely done with the first part of their batches.

“Slow down, Y/N! You’re too fast for us grandmas.” Jisoo jests, her voice bouncy with amusement. 

“Okay, okay! I’ll wait, just let me know if you need help.” Your knife comes to rest against the cutting board, and you take the opportunity to lean back against the countertop to watch them work. Your eyes trail over to Rosé, only to find her already looking at you; she tenses once she realizes she’s been caught, and she returns to her previous duties. You decide to tease her.

“Everything alright, Rosé? You seem a little distracted…” She momentarily shuts her eyes at your words, trying to refocus her thoughts and collect herself. A subtle snicker from Lisa can be heard, and Rosé delivers a quick jab to her arm. The maknae lets out a little “oww” before setting her things down to rub away the newfound soreness of her arm. 

A little later, Jennie requests some assistance, prompting you to make your way over to her. The station that she’s working at just so happens to be next to Rosé’s, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t thrill you. 

“Do we peel this first or leave it on?” 

“Cut the ends first, then slice it in half and remove the outer layer.”

Under your watchful eye, she follows your instructions and is soon back on track. She thanks you, and you bring your hand up to give her a pat on the back. Although she feels childish for it, the action works to make Rosé the tiniest bit jealous; she wants your attention on her. 

The blonde clears her throat before speaking up. “Y/N, I need a little help, too.” Your heart jumps at her words, and you fight hard to keep yourself in check as you spin around to face her.

“Of course, Rosé.” She sighs at the way her name rolls off your tongue, and she’s completely convinced that you’ve secretly put her under some type of spell. Her thoughts of you and your mysterious ways are interrupted when you come to stand next to her, your hip lightly brushing against hers. 

“Oh, well there’s your problem: you’re holding the knife wrong. Here,” you start, reaching out to reposition her hand in a better spot. Now she’ll be able to control it better, and she won’t run the risk of cutting herself.

“Better?” You ask innocently, missing the way that she bites her lip. The close proximity of your bodies is making her head spin, and she can’t decide if she wants you to stay or go. “Yes, thank you.” She looks like she wants to say something else, but she doesn’t, so you take that as your cue to go check on the other girls. Rosé silently curses herself for missing that golden opportunity to flirt with you, but she takes solace in the fact that she catches you stealing glances her way fairly often. You feel the connection too, and she’s pleased with that -- maybe she was doing something right after all.

The next stint of the night is spent preparing and cooking the dishes you promised them while trading jokes, banter, and teasing remarks. A mini food fight also took place, but for the sake of professionalism you won’t mention that. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day.

---- 

“Goodnight girls. I hope you come by again sometime soon!” 

They all assure you that they’ll be back before you know it, and you believe them. After all, they gobbled those dishes down like they hadn’t eaten in days -- it’s safe to say that they enjoyed them.

Rosé lingers in the doorway, eyeing you as you work to clean off the counter. She doesn’t want to go; she’s loved getting to hang out with you. Contemplating her options, she decides to be brave; she tells the girls to go on ahead, that she’ll be there in a minute. 

“Rosé, did you forget something?” You ask, looking up at her as you reach forward to wipe any remaining debris off the sleek surface.

“Yeah, your number.” Somehow, she possesses all the confidence in the world now, her new demeanor completely opposite to its previously shy counterpart. 

You tilt your head at her, a dumbfounded smile parting your lips ever so slightly. “Bold, are we? Alright, I’ll bite.” You say, holding a hand out for her to give you her phone. Her eyes widen a bit -- was she not expecting you to say yes? There’s no way you could turn down a chance like this. She fumbles around in her bag until the smooth screen of her phone comes into contact with her fingers, letting her know she’s found it.

“Here you go,” she chuckles cutely, an adorable little pattern of blush rising to her cheeks again. 

After entering your number, making sure to save the contact and even take a goofy picture of yourself for it, you give it back to her. “Call me anytime, love.” Her smile spreads even farther at the pet name, and she ducks her head to hide her reddening cheeks.

As she slowly approaches the door, walking backwards, she says, “I will… love,” offering you a little awkward salute at the end of it. You giggle at her antics, and soon bid her goodnight. 

No more than 5 minutes later, your phone dings as it displays a notification from an unknown number. 

“I’m usually not that awkward 🤦‍♀️ pretty girls just make me nervous.” The message makes your heart flutter, and you quickly save her number to your contacts. 

“Really? We have yet another thing in common, then.” 

The girls watch as Rosé does a little victory dance in her seat, her movements a bit limited by the belt stretched across her body. She’s practically glowing with excitement, her fingers already firing off another reply.

________

3 Years Later -- Rome, Italy

Upon seeing Rosé saunter down the aisle, your emotions get the jump on you; before you can stop them, tears flow freely down your face, and you bring a hand up to your mouth to quiet yourself. She looks bruisingly beautiful: the natural curves of her body are accentuated by the silky material of her dress, and her shoulders are covered in lace. An angel cast down from the heavens above. 

She smiles at the audience that’s filled with your close friends and family, offering little greetings as she passes them. Once she and her father make it to the altar, he pulls you in for a big hug, a few tears escaping his eyes. After he takes a step back, he looks between the two of you with pure pride on his face, his hand resting on your shoulder. 

The song ends, signalling for the two of you to join hands and face each other, and he returns to his seat. 

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate the joyous union of Y/N L/N and Roseanne Park. Two souls destined to find their way to one another, travelling millions of miles in the process. We come together to revel in this fact and send them into their new life together with all of our support.” The officiator says into the microphone, smiling at the two of you. You can tell he loves his job, and he’s damn good at it. 

Rosé’s grip on your hand tightens as she tries to contain her tears, but you’re quick to assure her that it’s alright. “You can cry, baby.” At your words, her lip is released from between her teeth, and her tears begin to flow. You wipe them away, stepping closer to rest your forehead against hers. 

The ceremony continues on and the two of you recite the personal vows you wrote. Somehow, unbeknownst to you, there doesn’t seem to be a limit to how much you can cry in one sitting. Rosé is having the same problem, seeing as how her makeup is smudging some as the tears wash the substances away. You don’t care though, and you make it a point to remind her of that; she’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“I do.” You choke out, beaming at her as you run your thumb across her knuckles.

“I do.” She responds, impatiently bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waits for those final words from the officiator. 

“You may now kiss the bride.” 

Her lips are on yours before he even finishes the phrase, her hand resting on the back of your neck as she pulls you in closer. Your lips move with hers in perfect time, working to seal your union in the best way possible. “I love you, forever,” she whispers against your lips. 

____

Present Day, 1:17 AM

In order to spare you from the overwhelming sadness that you’re being subjected to now, your brain takes you back to those happy times from the past. When Rosé still made time for you; when she loved you. 

Even though you hate it, you still find her in everything. The bright sunshine of the early morning reminds you of all the times she would wake you up with kisses, holding you close. The songbirds outside of your window bring to mind when you’d come home to find her at the piano, alternating between striking the keys and strumming her guitar as her beautiful voice carried out across the house. 

You miss that Rosé, so, so much. The Rosé that would call you in between sessions at the studio, if only for 5 minutes. The Rosé that longed to hear your voice after a long day; who fell into your arms the second that she shuffled through the door after practice. 

As time has passed, though, she’s seemed to fade more and more from your life; missed calls and texts have become a given, and it takes everything in you to mask your sorrow. Anyone who knows you well at all can easily see through the facade: you’re now a shell of who you once were, your normally vibrant and cheery self gone. You attempt to hide your sadness behind a smile, but it never really works out; your eyes don’t shine like they used to, and your lips don’t quite tweak up at the corners in the special way they had before. 

But you’re getting ahead of yourself again. Your reason for crying tonight is simple: for the hundredth time this month, she’s cancelled your date night plans, opting to spend the time working instead. The argument that the two of you had earlier replays in your mind:

"I don't have a choice."

Except, she did. She could choose you, choose to take a break, if only for the evening. You never ask too much of her, knowing that she can't handle even more stress competing with what she already has from the company and media. Being an idol is hard enough, and you know you can never fully wrap your head around everything that's expected of her.

Though, that makes this all the more ridiculous. All you've asked for is a couple hours of her time -- for her to relax with you and get away from it all. Earlier that day you had gone to the store and picked up all the necessary materials to treat her to a little spa day, complete with bath and body oils, face masks, and even some bath bombs. 

"Asking my wife to spend an evening with me is not unreasonable, Rosé."

"I'm not having this argument again, Y/N. I get enough shit from everyone else; I don't need any extra from you."

Maybe it was something in how she said it, so final and hateful, her face coming to rest in a scowl. Her arms were crossed as she stood in front of you, and you could see the muscles in her jaw clench and release repeatedly. In some twisted way, part of you was glad to have this encounter; it hurt like hell, but at least she was paying attention to you. She hadn't looked at you for this long in a while.

Before you can even get another word out, she sighs, saying, "I don't have time for this. I have to go back to the studio." 

Just as she turns to go, you catch her wrist. With a slightly annoyed look, she turns to face you.

"If you walk out that door then I'm leaving; at least for the night. We need to talk about this, but if you don't care enough to even give me that, then…" you trail off, tilting your head slightly. You want her to apologize, to say how wrong she's been for doing all of this to you -- but she doesn't. Her expression is tired, irritation written plainly for you to see. She pulls her arm away, offering a petty, "Oh well," with a shrug before exiting the house. 

How could she be so cold? Maybe that's what hurt the most. Seeing the love of your life turn into someone completely different than who you fell for stung more than any argument ever could. The reality is that she's not the same person anymore. Accepting that would be half of the battle in and of itself. 

Your heart is betraying itself, stuck in a sticky situation: you're constantly struggling between your love for her and the respect you hold for yourself. Half of you wants to stay, to make her listen and fight for this; but the other half of you, perhaps the more rational side, knows that that won't work now. You've tried that already, you reason with yourself, racking your brain for any new way to get through to her. 

Sometimes it's like she forgets all of the sacrifices you make for the relationship. Despite having your own busy schedule to deal with, you always make time for her. So why could she never do the same for you?

It's obvious that in its current state, this relationship is only wrecking your mental health -- a testament to that is every night you've spent lying awake, sobbing into your pillow as your list of insecurities grows longer and longer. She used to be the person you'd run to when negative thoughts plagued your mind, her sweet words of love showing how much she valued you. But all of that's gone now, leaving you with a shattered heart and racing mind. When had you stopped being enough?

~~~~~~~

It’s late, well past 4AM when Rosé manages to make it home. Practice absolutely wrecked her today, leaving her body exhausted from dancing and throat sore from all the singing she had to do. She’s more than ready to collapse into bed and pass out. 

One thing that always stayed the same was your sleeping arrangement. No matter how much Rosé hurt you, you still slept in the same bed. Her subconscious was always kinder to you than she was, anyway; the two of you would cuddle in close like before, her arms wrapped around you as she slept peacefully. No arguments or yelling, you could always count on the nights to heal your heart a little bit. 

As she enters the empty bedroom, the memory of your argument from earlier that day comes flooding back. She remembers that you said you were leaving, but part of her didn't fully believe you. She should've known better -- you always keep your word. Guilt washes over her, and she gently taps her head against the wall as a sort of self-punishment for her previous actions. Why did she say that to you? The hurt look in your eyes broke her heart, but she couldn’t afford to skip practice, especially with the comeback quickly approaching. In retrospect, she should’ve just told you that she didn’t feel prepared, and that’s why this practice had been so important. Even though she doesn’t show it, you still mean the world to her. She just so happens to be her own worst enemy. 

With a heavy sigh, she makes her way to the bathroom; there she finds a cute little basket of goodies next to the tub, and a note on the counter of the sink. She approaches the basket first, quickly discovering that it holds some of her favorite self-care items from the local store. Yet again, a deep pang of guilt courses through her upon realizing that you had prepared that for her. Defeated, she picks up the note. 

Roseanne,

If you’re reading this, then I’ve already left. I don’t want you to worry, if you even still care enough to do that, so I decided to leave this letter for you. I’ll be staying with my friend for the next while. I don’t know how long, but that depends entirely on you. I’ve tried to communicate with you, but we’re getting nowhere; we both know it. We’re not who we used to be, Rosé, and I hate that. I want us to be happy again, but it seems that I can’t do that for you. If you want to end things, let me know. 

- Y/N

Rosé’s heart is breaking, splintering into a million different pieces and leaving her with no possible way to collect them all. How had she so royally fucked this up? She only has herself to blame, and she knows that; she can’t believe that she let things get like this. She had been so blinded by the stress that she lost sight of the most important thing in her life: you. It’s slowly sinking in that she very well might lose you for good this time, and she doesn’t know how to cope with that. She can survive without her career, but she knows she can’t go on without you.

-----  La Rêverie, 2 Weeks Later -----

She only intended to walk by -- to see if you were there and safe. But as she gazes through the windows, peeking into the place that houses so many of her dearest memories, she’s transfixed. Her eyes land on you, finding you hard at work in the kitchen. It’s always been where you go when you’re stressed or upset about something -- two things that Rosé knows she’s the cause of.

You’re in your element, face donning a look of pure concentration as you prepare what she assumes is a new dish. Your hair’s in a bun, a few strands coming down to fall around your face as you move about. Gravity takes its time in gently coaxing them out of the tie's hold, and Rosé’s breath hitches at how beautiful you look; it’s as if she’s falling for you all over again. She’s always admired your skills, but they hold a whole new meaning now, an unspoken tension in every movement you make. 

How had she been so selfish? You had been there for her all along, waiting patiently for the day that she would come to her senses. You would always have dinner ready -- usually one of her favorites, hoping that would spark something again -- but she always brushed you off. She never stayed long enough to see the crushed look on your face, or how the pain was becoming clearer and clearer by the day. She realizes now just how much of a toll her actions have taken on the both of you; you're still just as breathtaking as ever to her, but that special sparkle in your eye has long been eclipsed by something more dull. You're tired of being let down repeatedly, stuck in a constant loop of excuses and avoidance, and Rosé can't blame you for a second.  

The time apart hasn't been kind to her at all; there hasn't been a single day that's gone by where you haven't consumed her thoughts. She misses you so badly it hurts, and even now, despite being so close to you, separated only by the walls of the restaurant, you've never been further away. 

The distant sound of a car alarm cuts through the silence, simultaneously scaring her and drawing your attention. Before you can spot her, she ducks down; there’s no way that she can face you yet. Taking this as a sign, she decides to leave.

She’s spent the past 2 weeks attempting to spare you by not coming around; she thinks you need time away from her to deal with everything she’s put you through, and she doesn’t want to upset you anymore than she already has. Ever-torn, part of you is glad that she’s stayed away; however, another part of you just wants to see her again. You miss the nights more than you thought you would. 

--- A Few Days Later ---

Steady sheets of rain pound harshly against the window, vibrating the latches with each gust of wind. Times like these are always the worst, especially when you don’t have Rosé to calm you down. Violent thunderstorms never fail to frighten you, and this one in particular seems like it’ll be the worst one of the season. Swiftly padding over to the window, you sneak a quick peek outside, only to find the branches of the large oak tree that occupies the yard swaying in the wind with reckless abandon. The sight terrifies you, but you do your best to keep yourself from panicking, even having to do some breathing exercises. Your friend can sleep through anything, and you know she needs the rest; so, you stay in the spare bedroom that she’s so graciously allowing you to reside in, and lie awake. 

Across the city, Rosé is tossing and turning. The storm hasn’t fully reached its peak there yet, but she knows how worried you must be. Tears spring to her eyes at the thought of you huddled up under the covers, body trembling in fear as the storm rages on. The deep-rooted shame that she’s grown so accustomed to since you left plagues her conscience, making her even more disgusted with herself. 

After turning over yet again, her eyes land on the picture she has of the two of you propped up on the nightstand. It was taken on your wedding day, that stunning view of the venue paling in comparison to your beauty. A sense of determination washes over her -- determination to make you that happy again someday, in whatever way she can -- and she gets out of bed to collect a few materials. She’ll do whatever it takes.

----

The sound of a car door slamming perks your ears up, and your curiosity gets the better of you. Quickly pulling the curtain back, you’re beyond shocked to see Rosé out there, holding something in her hand. Just as you lean in closer to the window to try and see what it is, her caller ID pops up on your phone. 

“Come downstairs, please.” 

Even with the vast array of emotions coursing through you at the moment, you’re only focused on getting her inside and out of harm’s way. 

You nearly knock the door off its hinges with how quickly you snap it open. To your surprise, she’s still standing by her car, but now you can see what she was holding before; a white sign with black writing on it. The words are barely legible with how much it's raining, the dye of the marker horribly smudged, but you can make out: “I’m sorry! I’m an idiot.” It’s like something out of romantic drama.

Before you can even comment on everything that’s happening, Rosé begins the speech that she’s been trying to piece together ever since you left. 

She has to raise her voice so you can hear her over the storm. You wonder why she doesn’t just come in, but you think that maybe she’s doing it to show you that she’s willing to punish herself by standing out in the elements. “No words that I say will ever be able to fix the pain that my actions caused. You don’t deserve any of the shit I put you through, and I hate myself for being such a coward. I was too immature to look past my own struggles and just talk to you about them.” 

Now, she takes a few cautious steps towards the front door, testing the waters as she scans your face to gauge how you’re feeling. “I guess I just thought I could deal with it like I always do. But losing you showed me how wrong I was; I love you so much, Y/N. I don’t want to end things; I’ll never want that. You’re my world, baby; I’m so sorry that it took me this long to see what was right in front of me.” 

How are you to respond to that? Can you trust her? She looks more sincere in this moment than she has in a long time, and that puts you a little more at ease. Her eyes are begging -- pleading -- with you to believe her, and after a moment you step to the side, wordlessly telling her to come in. You don’t even realize that you’re crying until a few stray tears drip onto your shirt, leaving little marks in their wake. She has to restrain herself from reaching out and wiping them away; she has no idea when -- or if -- you’ll be able to forgive her. 

Soft pitter-patter of the water running off of her coat echoes lightly across the foyer, serving as white noise for the conversation you’re having. Her sniffles work in tandem with it, and she bites back her sobs in order to get the words out. 

“I know this won’t be fixed overnight, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me. I won’t blame you for a second if you can’t forgive me, either. I just couldn’t let you get away without a fight.”

With each new fresh batch of tears that settle in your eyes, you have to work twice as hard to blink them away. “I-I don’t know what to say, Rose. You’re the only person in this world capable of hurting me that badly, because you mean more to me than anyone else. But I never thought you’d treat me like that. Do you know how many times I doubted myself, thinking I did something wrong?” Your tone is bitter now, voice conveying the pain from those months of anguish that you had to endure, and Rosé hangs her head. 

“I know that now, Y/N, and I know that I can never take it back. But God, how I wish I could. I’d do anything in my power to take that pain away. It was never your fault; none of it was.”

You know she’s being honest. After seeing the opposite for so long, it’s easy to spot when she’s telling the truth. You nod a couple times, deciding to pull her in for a long-overdue hug. She’s motionless at first, not quite knowing if you want her to return it or not, but the second that you quietly say, “Hold me, Rosé,” she’s scooping you up in her arms like her life depends on it. Her head rests in the crook of your neck, and the two of you cry together, letting all of the pent up frustration and sadness leave your bodies. 

After standing there, embracing one another for who knows how long, she pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. Her gaze subtly falls to your lips, but you don’t fail to notice. “Can I?” She asks gently, raising her eyes back up to yours. “Yes.” You utter, nearly swooning as her soft lips brush against your own. You’ve missed them. 

Her chilled hands cup your cheeks with purpose, and you can feel water running off the ends of her hair and onto your chest.

She kisses you in such a poetic way: softly, as if you might break at any moment, but urgently, like a lost soldier finally returning to the arms of their lover. She wants to make you feel how sorry she is, how much she loves you, and this seems like the perfect place to start.

“I love you, jerk,” you say through your tears, brushing your thumb along her cheek as you look into her eyes.

“And I love you, angel.” She picks you up, spinning you around a couple of times before setting you back down on your feet. 

After a moment, you glace at the window. “Shhhh, wait. Do you hear that?”

She cocks her head to the side as she listens closely for any potential noise that you might be talking about, but she hears nothing. “No? I don’t hear anything…” 

“Exactly; the rain stopped.”

“Huh. I guess it did its job, then.” She smiles, silently thanking the universe for working in its wonderful ways. It brought the two of you back to one another, and neither of you can contain your happiness. Maybe you don’t hate storms as much after all...

[devikyuu]

Delivery Boy

Pairing: Hanamaki Takahiro x GN!Reader Tags: Meet Cute, Drabble Summary: The person who delivered your parcel is kinda cute, no? Word Count: 476

Your first time ordering something online really makes your anxiety spike up.

What if you put in the wrong address? What if they get lost? God what if your order was a scam?

You received a message earlier in the day that your parcel would be arriving today. 

Bouncing your leg, checking your phone every few seconds, even looking at the door multiple times.

Every second that passes by when you dont hear a knock on your door makes you even more restless.

You busy yourself, trying to calm yourself down and you think it's working.

Other people would disagree. Seeing as you still check your phone and your door every few seconds.

You just couldn't sit still.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Oh god. Was that the parcel? Oh god. You had to talk to people? Oh shit.

Taking calming breaths, you ready the money in your hands and walk towards the door.

You stall for a few more seconds but another knock is heard.

"Excuse me, I have a parcel for (L/n) (Y/n)."

As soon as they say that, you open the door quickly.

"Me (L/n) (Y/n)-- I mean, that's parcel-- i mean-- yes." 

Please bury them in sand and cover that sand with cement so your embarrassed self will never be seen again.

Your face is burning hot as you stop yourself from speaking any further.  

The pink haired delivery boy only stares at you with wide eyes. A small laugh escapes his lips. 

Are all delivery boys cute?

Your face gets hotter and you look away from him.

"Here's your parcel, (L/n)-san." He hands you your order with a small smile and you shakily take it from him. Making sure to hand him the money as well.

"Thank you."

You try to quickly close the door as soon as you give him your thanks but, "Wait!"

You look at the pink haired boy and wait for him to continue. Not daring to say another word in case you embarrass yourself even more.

"Do you want to grab a drink with me, sometime?" He asks. You blink. 

It's silent for a bit until you speak. "Like... Like a date?" 

"Like a date." He confirms. "I'm Hanamaki Takahiro."

If your face felt hot before, then right now, it's definitely scorching. It reaches your ears and you can't find it in you to speak so you nod your head.

This makes him smile a little wider. "Perfect. I'll text you a message of a date and time."

You nod your head again.

"I'll see you soon, then."

You nod once more and slowly close the door when he turns to leave.

You lean your back on your door and slide down.

You only wanted to get your parcel. How the hell did you snatch a date with the cute delivery boy?

Inspired by how fucking nervous I got when I was waiting for my order to arrive. I’ve never ordered something online before so I started panicking. 

[mimik-u]

Togetherness

Summary: The aftermath of Steven transforming into a huge reptilian monster brings back old memories for Pearl, who remembers another time Steven was scared so many years ago.

A/N: This piece was written for the Pearl-focused I am a Pearl! mini-zine a couple of months ago! It was a great opportunity to get to explore Pearl's mind space after the events of "I am My Monster" and how her friendship with Greg has evolved over the years. ;w; Thanks to the mods for a great zine experience! <3

AO3 Link / Zine Tumblr Link / @iamapearlzine

—

Steven is sixteen years old when he erupts into a scaly, pink monster—fifty-foot tall and inconsolable.

Everyone tells him that they love him, but because words are rarely ever enough, they show him that they do; they embrace him; they hold him; they press their fingertips into his reptilian skin. His scales are cold and sharp against Pearl’s palms, keratin hard and impenetrable. She tells him that he shouldn’t have to keep anything from her, all the while burning with shame that he’s kept so much from her.

He’s felt responsible for her fragility and loved her enough to tiptoe around the Diamond in the room.

His mother.

His mother and the complicated history between them.

The love.

The torture.

The grief.

The love.

(Because what is grief after all but a manifestation of love? A reminder, its echo, and its painful, lingering, lovely ghost.)

Connie kisses Steven, very lightly, very softly, and he falls from the sky, a boy again. 

Pearl wraps him in a blanket.

Garnet carries him into the wreckage of their home.

And approximately one hour later, they’re all standing on the deck, waiting for Priyanka Maheswaran to finish her professional assessment of him as the sun sinks into a honey-colored sea.

Pearl cradles her face in her hands, elbows sinking into the railing, trying to retrace every missed sign in the blackness of her own head. She sees his skin glowing pink in the darkness—at the Reef, in Little Homeworld, just moments ago in the living room…

So many flares in the night.

And Pearl had watched them all fizzle.

—

Steven is six years old when he moves into the newly minted beach house, and he tells Greg that he’s afraid of the silence. Nearly all of his life, he’s been surrounded by noise—the gentle rumble of the van’s motor, the susurrant murmur of the sea, wind, rain, buskers playing guitars on the Boardwalk, the whoosh of the rollercoasters at Funland. 

His dad’s snores echoing off the tin ceiling.

His dad’s laughter.

His softly-sung lullabies, too.

The beach house is really quiet at night, Steven tells Greg who tells the Gems, and he doesn’t like that…

He’s trying really hard to like it, though.

Maybe things’ll get better next week.

Pearl never looks at Greg as he delivers this news, tapping her fingers against the side of her leg as she sits at the kitchen table, ankles primly crossed. He stands in the doorway—right beneath Rose’s painted image—wringing his hands and looking too awkward to be allowed. She resents him for this—for his awkwardness, for his intrusion into their lives, and for everything else, too. 

(Namely for Rose.)

She inwardly knows that she’s being unfair. 

That loathing a person on the basis of his existence is morally suspect.

Wrong.

But what are rightness and wrongness to emotions? To the sheer primality of grief?

Grief is irrational, she rationalizes to herself—she self-justifies; it knows nothing of ethicality.

“Why didn’t Steman tell us this?” Amethyst asks, absently scratching her nose. “If it’s noise he wants, I got an old drum set he can knock himself out on.”

Pearl frowns, well-remembering the ten straight years Amethyst played the drums through the nineties. Rose loved it; Pearl spent many hours alone in her room to decompress. 

“He’s still intimidated by you three,” Greg shrugs kindly. “And shy. You just have to give him reason enough to trust ya with stuff like this. Tucking him in at bed at night, y’know. Checking under the bed for monsters.”

“There aren’t monsters under his bed,” Garnet says, practical as ever. “They wouldn’t fit.”

Greg chuckles, running a flat hand across the back of his neck as he peers between the three gems. When he and Pearl lock eyes, she meets his stare coldly, her mouth pressed into a thin line.

“But Steven doesn’t know that,” he mumbles, glancing away, his cheeks flushing. “You gotta shine a flashlight down there and show him there’s nothing there.”

“Doesn’t that seem patronizing to you?” Pearl asks, taking little care to disguise the condescension in her voice. Across the room, Garnet’s visored stare finds her—blank, inscrutable, and arcane—but Pearl knows her fellow gem well enough to understand that this is chastisement, silent and brutal.

Arching a thin brow, she ignores Garnet.

She demands an answer from Greg.

“Maybe,” the man concedes, but when he acknowledges her gaze again, there’s a little defiance in his eyes, an edge in his scratchy voice. “But maybe not. That’s what being a parent is sometimes. Patronizing the kid! Playing along. Showing him that you’re listening to what he needs. Letting him know that you’re there… haven’t you ever been afraid before, Pearl?”

“No,” she protests immediately, bristling.

“Pssh,” Amethyst snorts. “Last week, you jumped ten feet in the air ‘cuz you saw a snake.”

“You did,” Garnet smiles wryly. “I was there.”

Pearl scoffs, trying and failing to ignore that her cheeks are suffused with blue blush…

… and that Greg is staring at her with an almost distinguishable emotion in his eyes.

If she didn’t know better, she would say it was pity.

—

Dr. Maheswaran tells them that Steven is okay; he’s tired and sore—transforming expended a lot of his energy—but he’s ready to see everyone now. She tells them to be quiet and to maybe go in one by one, so he doesn’t get too overwhelmed.

Firmly, she warns them that it’ll take more than a good night’s sleep for him to heal .

And she doesn’t mean physically.

“Here’s a number of a good therapist I know,” she says, placing a card in Pearl’s hand. “Her office opens at nine.”

Pearl folds her fingertips over the edges of the glossy card stock but doesn’t quite glance down to look at the name—too fixated on watching Greg stand in front of the doorway, palming the screen door as he seemingly steels himself to go in. 

He’s aged so much in the twenty-something years that Pearl has known him—from his nearly bald head to the branching lines creasing the corners of his eyes—but for some reason, it is only now, in this ephemeral moment, that she realizes how old he is.

She doesn’t mean physically either.

As the others gather around Dr. Maheswaran, asking her questions, voicing their concerns, Pearl takes one deliberate step and then another.

—

Garnet tells Steven that it’s okay—there are no monsters under the bed—and when she shines a flashlight beneath the mattress, Amethyst is there, shapeshifted into a tiny kitten, purring at the child sweetly.

“See, dude?” She laughs, bounding out from beneath the bed. In an instant of blurred matter and color, she becomes herself again, her bangs sweeping inelegantly over her eye. “No monsters under the bed, only cute kittens.”

“Only kittens?” He repeats, grinning that famous gap-toothed smile that everyone adores. His legs are nearly swallowed by his oversized shirt.

“Kittens and dust bunnies,” Amethyst confirms, knuckling his curls playfully and smiling broadly when he laughs. “G’night, Steman.”

“Night, Amethyst!”

“Goodnight, Steven,” Garnet murmurs, lifting the six-year old into her arms and gently placing him onto the bed. She tucks him beneath the covers. She tenderly kisses him on the head.

“Nighty night, Garnet.”

And then it’s Pearl’s turn. Garnet and Amethyst head towards their temple rooms, and Pearl settles down on the edge of the comforter, balancing her left ankle on top of her right knee.

“Don’t forget about M.C. Bear Bear!” She teases softly, reaching over and placing the stuffed animal next to Steven’s arm. “He needs a snuggle buddy.”

Steven nods in agreement, his brow furrowed seriously over his eyes.

“Yep,” he says importantly. “I’ll be sure to hug him tight.”

“Excellent,” she says primly.

“Excellent,” he echoes playfully.

She lightly skims her knuckles across his soft cheek, smiling when he giggles a little, always ticklish…

… but then, when she withdraws her hand, letting it fall away from his face, the moment that immediately follows is quiet.

Too much so.

So quiet that Pearl can hear the softness of Steven’s breath, quiet enough that Greg’s words from earlier haunt her in the absence of noise.

Haven’t you ever been afraid before, Pearl?

Contrary to what Garnet and Amethyst may believe, she isn’t afraid of snakes —pestilent creatures though they are.

She’s surprised by snakes.

And afraid of much bigger things—five-thousand-year old secrets and equally ancient insecurities, for instance.

Six thousand years ago, after all, she was coded to believe that her highest order in life was to be a slave.

And sometimes—if only sometimes—she fears that her weaknesses were ingrained then, in the very moment she emerged from a shell and was called a pearl

One of so many.

Disposable.

Programmable.

Objectified.

Sometimes, she barely knows what it means to be herself, much less what it means to be a parent .

Indeed, Greg Universe of all people seems to have the idea down better than she ever could.

So, yes, Greg, she is afraid.

(Afraid of failing Steven.)

(Terrified that she’s already failed her. )

Patronize him, Greg suggested.

Play with him.

Show him that you’re listening.

Let him know that you’re there.

—

“Greg?”

Pearl places a light hand on Greg’s arm, startling him from his trance as he turns around to face her.

“Pearl!” He exhales, his breath coming in short bursts. “Y’scared me!”

“I’m sorry,” she says sincerely, not quite moving her hand away yet. His skin is warm beneath her fingertips, soft like wave-washed sand. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yes,” he returns immediately, and then—taking one look at her imperiously raised brow—just as quickly rectifies himself. “No. I don’t know. I’m freakin’ terrified, Pearl. I feel like a failure of a parent. I don’t know what to tell him. But I gotta go in there anyway.”

He says it all very rapidly, as though he’s talking to himself.

Encouraging himself.

And putting himself down to do it.

“I’m his dad,” he concludes, his voice breaking, tears standing in his dark eyes. “I’m his dad, and I didn’t… I wasn’t there for him, and I should have—“

“ Shh, ” Pearl cuts across him gently, patting his arm as tears threaten to slide down her own face. “Shh. There are so many hypothetical should haves that we’ll all have to face soon when it comes to Steven. But not today, Greg .”

With her free hand, she conjures a tissue from her gem and hands it to him, unflinching and kind, even when he needs to wipe his nose.

“Today,” she murmurs, her voice inhibited, a hundred emotions thick, “we just let him know that we’re here.”

—

“Pearl?” Steven asks.

Pearl blinks rapidly, coming back to herself; she’d been lost in her own thoughts, nearly consumed.

“Hey,” she smiles, placing her hand on top of Steven’s own. His skin is so warm and soft; she absently wonders if her alienness feels sharp to him… hard… cold… “Here’s an idea—how about I sing you a lullaby before you go to sleep?”

“You know how to sing?” Steven’s eyes widen incredulously, his mouth shaping itself into a delighted smile.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she laughs playfully. “When we were younger, your mother and I used to sing all the time—hymns from our home planet and the like…”

A pause, infinitesimal, hesitant. 

“...I could sing one for you if you’d like?”

“You could?” The child dares to be hopeful; the very emotion shapes the pitch of his question, the light in his eyes.

He has his mother’s eyes.

Dark and full of stars.

“I could,” Pearl repeats. “I’d sing as long as you wanted me to.”

“How about fooooorever?” 

“Let’s just start with until you fall asleep,” Pearl laughs. “That’s a part of forever, yes? This moment?”

“If you say so, Pearl,” he wrinkles his nose skeptically.

“I know so, Steven.”

As she sings him to sleep in her mother tongue, Pearl admits that this must be something that Greg knows, too.

The importance of hereness to a child.

Togetherness on scary nights.

[thedistantdusk]

Arcadia, Chapter 1

My submission for the 2021 Hinny birthday challenge for the HG discord! Thanks to Liza for organizing, to @accio-broom for the Brit-pick, to @secretkeeper13 for the beta, and to anyone else who helped (I'm probably forgetting a few folks, apologies).

The challenge theme this year was content based on TV! This is an (extremely loose) X-Files AU, but you absolutely don’t need to be familiar with X-Files to understand this :D

TW (spoilers): swearing, references to (severe) mental health concerns, (eventual) consensual relations

___________________________________________________________

D A Y  + O N E

The woman probably finds herself charming as she stands in their driveway, her hands clasped in frozen excitement.

But Ginny just finds her creepy.

Really fucking creepy.

Harry drops hired car into first gear as they pull in. This woman— the head of the village council, Ginny reckons, the one she spoke to on the phone— wears perfectly-pleated Chino pants with a lavender jumper draped across her shoulders.

Her attire is standard for a posh village… especially a new-build village, one with a covenant and loads of stupid rules. It’s the woman’s eerie, opened-mouthed grin that shoots a chill up Ginny’s spine.

Her stark white teeth glint in the sun, but her smile doesn’t move an inch… and the longer Ginny stares, the more unsettled she grows. The only thing larger than her grin is the mane of yellow hair that surrounds her face like an ersatz halo.

Harry clears his throat as he turns off the car; Ginny realizes this is the first sound either of them has made since leaving London.

Awkward.

She reaches for her door handle, but the random woman gets to it first.

“You must be Jenny and Henry!” she shrieks, yanking on Ginny’s shoulders before she’s even unbuckled. “Oh, sorry! Love, do let me get the strap!”

Ginny’s on her feet and pressed to the stranger’s perfumed bosom before she has a chance to tell her she can manage just fine herself, thanks.

“Lovely to meet you in person!” the woman cries, nearly shaking with enthusiasm. It’s not until Ginny’s returned a weak squeeze that the vice-like grip around her middle weakens.

Rubbing her aching shoulder, she sneaks a glimpse at Harry; while she fought for air, he apparently climbed out of the car, only to stare at the two of them like a deer in the headlights. Now his elbow’s at an awkward angle, his hand behind his back, which could only mean one thing: he’s reaching for the wand in his back pocket.

Shit.

Ginny shakes her head and hopes her eyes convey what her lips can’t: She’s just a standard Muggle weirdo. Relax.

“I’m Jane. Jane Connors. In the flesh!” The woman (whose voice Ginny now finds painfully familiar) throws her hands in the air and twirls on the spot. “I take it you’re Jenny and Henry Petri!”

Harry interrupts with a booming chuckle before Ginny says a word; in three quick steps, he’s wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “That’s Pee-tri, actually. Like the dish,” Harry— Henry— adds with a wink. “And speaking of dish…” His eyes travel over Ginny, his voice going all deep and silky.

She bites back a shudder, hating the way her stomach drops as his fingers graze her arm. All that keeps her grounded is knowing the truth: Harry’s good at his job, nothing more. The only reason he’s suddenly become a skilled actor is that his career demands it.

Hers does too, she reminds herself firmly. And if she has any intention of successfully completing her first solo mission, she needs to get her shit together. Now.

Ginny blinks up at Harry, appropriately sobered; his eyes glimmer with mirth. As suspected, he’s only doing his job. Touch is just part of the assignment description. He has no way of knowing what it does to her— because really, truly, it shouldn’t.

And maybe if she keeps telling herself that, it’ll eventually come true.

Harry winks at Jane, tugging Ginny against his side. “My new wife and I had a long journey from the city! We were hoping to get some alone-time before tucking in, I’m sure you understand.”

Jane looks puzzled. “You— but it’s 5:43!” An uncomfortable giggle burbles from her lips. “You must be moved in by 6. Surely you’ve read the covenant rules?”

“Erm… may have missed that one,” Ginny lies. “There’s quite a few, see. We’re used to—”

But Jane shoves her fingers into her mouth, cutting her off with an ear-piercing whistle. Just as quickly, another chill races up Ginny’s spine. People up and down the street emerge from their semi-detached homes and race towards them, their faces in downcast unison.

They’ve all been watching. Waiting for the signal. Ready.

Ginny’s not sure how long ago the Department of Mysteries delivered the moving van and left it on the street, but the horde of random people aren’t fussed with the details, either. Within five seconds of Jane’s whistle, the strangers throw open the back door and begin an unloading process that reeks of military precision.

“Here’s the house key!” trills Jane, pulling it from her pocket. “Oh, and Petris!” She turns to Harry and Ginny, wagging her finger. “I’ll also need a copy of your car key, ASAP. We’re firm believers in the buddy system here in Arcadia.” She returns her attention to the stone-faced neighbors, who are now scurrying to the door. “This way, friends— right this way!”

“I— that’s really unnecessary,” Ginny says, bewildered, as people rush inside their new house, boxes in arms. “We’re perfectly able to—”

“Nonsense!” cries a man with grey sideburns as he takes a box from the back. “We’re neighborly here. You’d better get used to it.”

“Yes!” chimes another voice. A chubby man wearing a Polo and a golden necklace emerges from behind the lorry, hurrying up the walk. “We’re like a family here. We all— oh no!” He lets out a startled cry as a box labeled FINE CHINA topples from his arms and lands on the pavement with a thump.

He rushes towards it, face falling, but Ginny’s main concern is the box’s silent descent; she runs over, making a mental note to have a word with the designer of these props. Would something noisy and fragile have killed them? For fuck’s sake...

“Sorry,” the man says with a pained wince. “I’m just so clumsy. I-I promise, I’ll—”

“It’s fine,” Ginny soothes, dropping to her knees. “Don’t worry, really. We aren’t too big on dishes.”

Maybe if she keeps him talking, he won’t realize it’s bloody empty. Seriously, this is amateur shit. Luckily, he’s too distracted to notice.

The man offers a sheepish smile. “I’m Mike. Mike Snodgrass. You may have seen Mike and Jess in the resident guide, but erm…” He trails off, sadness in his voice.

Ginny cocks her head to feign confusion, but of course she’s familiar with Jess Snodgrass, 25, reported missing last November. Her photo’s been on Ginny’s desk for almost as long. Even now, Jess appears in Ginny’s mind with such startling clarity that she can almost see her beside Mike... all 5 feet of her, with curly red hair, bright blue eyes, and a lopsided grin.

Jess Snodgrass… Arcadia’s third missing person. The first to disrupt the couples-only disappearance pattern.

Mike shrugs. “But erm… it’s just me now,” he repeats. “I’m a primary teacher at Saint Julian’s, just up the road.” He nods to his left. “So if you’ve got any homework or school questions, give me a ring!” He pastes on a smile that doesn’t match his eyes; it’s an expression with which Ginny’s well-acquainted.

“I’ll have to remember that, Mike Snodgrass,” Ginny says, shaking his hand.

She immediately regrets it.

Seeing Mike Snodgrass on paper is one thing, but touch makes him human. His hand feels big and warm, his smile earnest and sweet; he reminds her so strongly of Neville that her stomach aches. Ginny breathes through her nose and focuses on the way his necklace — a medallion of Saint Julian, appropriately enough — sparkles in the sun.

“Like I said, I’m all alone,” Mike repeats, offering his hand to help her up. “If you ever need anything, Jenny, don’t hesitate to ask!”

Ginny taps her chin. “Actually, I do have a question! I reckon it’s just a rumor, though. You don’t have to confirm or deny.” She winks at him and leans in as a woman in a fleece jumper rushes past.

Mike’s smile widens, his face brightening… and ah fuck, that one hurts, because she’s about to break his heart.

“Mike…” Ginny murmurs, studying his expression. The more she says his name, the less he reminds her of Neville; she wants to keep it that way. “With everyone being so bloody hospitable here, how come there are so many disappearances?”

Mike stops bobbing. His smile vanishes as quickly as the former occupants of Jenny and Henry’s new home. When Ginny looks back into his eyes, her gut plummets with a sensation of wretched familiarity.

Because she expected sadness on his face… the same type she saw when he mentioned Jess’ name. Sadness she can deal with; sadness is painful, but she sees it all the time.

She sees something worse, though.

Fear.

And not day-to-day fear. This isn’t like hating needles or avoiding clown movies. Mike’s face is filled with the sort of wide-eyed, gripping, primal terror that seizes your insides in a vice. This is how you’d feel if your entire family were held captive in a dungeon, and a single word to the wrong person would spell their deaths.

Or how you’d feel if your ex-boyfriend were the corrupt government’s most desired fugitive… and you still fancied him very much, indeed.

“I… n-no idea,” Mike finally stutters, blinking. Then he sucks in a deep breath through his nose, his expression brightening again.

“So what do you and Henry do for work?” he asks in a booming voice, his grin now unnaturally wide. “We’ve got a carpool to the city if you’re interested. Reducing our carbon footprint is of utmost importance here in Arcadia!” He finishes by spreading his hands in each direction before placing them on his hips, that shit-eating grin still plastered across his face.

In another life, Ginny might’ve laughed. There certainly would have been a lot to cackle over, if she had the luxury of easy laughter. After all, she may as well be living in an am-dram nativity performance, complete with an overeager Joseph beckoning her to the stables after her harrowing desert journey.

Now, though, his reply only fills her with sad, professional detachment. Because fucking hell, how much did this poor man rehearse to get that line right?

She takes pity on him and snaps the bait. “My husband and I work from home,” she says, matching his volume. Someone’s clearly listening; it’s the least she can do. “You won’t see us out much.” Ginny brings the box to her hip. “And seriously, don’t worry about replacing the dishes, either. We mostly do takeaway.”

“No, let me bring you new ones,” Mike insists, his eyes pleading. “Tomorrow? Would that be—”

“What is this?” a voice demands from the back of the truck. Ginny peers around Mike’s shoulder. The man with the gray sideburns stares inside the lorry with a look of disgust.

“A trampoline!” Harry says, stepping aside as another neighbor races past. “We’re thrilled to put it in the garden, aren’t we, Jenny Cakes?”

Jenny Cakes. Is he fucking serious? Two can play at this game, prat.

“Indeed we are, Hen,” she croons, leaning into his side. “Jen and Hen.” She heaves a dreamy sigh and stares into his eyes. “We even rhyme!”

“Rhyming or not, this isn’t allowed,” the man barks, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’d have to apply for a special exemption with Mr Gogolak, but in the meantime…” He checks his watch. “5:53. Seven minutes. It’ll have to go in the garage tonight. I’m Oliver, by the way— Oliver Skinner.”

Harry gives him a theatrical scowl. “I’d say nice to meet you, but those who are enemies of trampolines are generally enemies of mine.”

Ginny bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, but Oliver remains unamused. He raises his pointer finger as if to say something, but Harry gets there first.

“Onnnnly kidding!” Harry winks and claps his shoulder. “Hope we can be fast friends, Oliver.”

Oliver just glares back. “Count on it.”

_______________________________________________________

Ginny’s taking this whole thing very seriously. Not that Harry blames her.

Her voice echoes against the walls of the empty home as she paces around the sitting room, her camera flipped outward to record.

Despite his five-year Auror career, Harry has no real concept of what Unspeakables do. Which, he supposes, is by design. He knows they… know things. Secret things. Things you’d be happier not knowing. He also knows that Kingsley isn’t fond of them. Or perhaps it’s Attica Monkstanley, Ginny’s boss, who King dislikes in particular. Attica’s famous for her refusal to disclose anything — ever. This ranges from potential terrorist plots to her favorite type of sandwich. Thus, Attica isn’t particularly popular. After a career built on helping absolutely no one outside her department, the request for Auror backup on an undisclosed, top-secret endeavor went over about as well as a hippogriff stampede in a posh tea room.

Harry sighs at the blank walls of their would-be living room. King’s in charge now. Big in charge. He or Robards were the obvious choices to accompany Ginny — sorry, Unspeakable GW — on this mission, but when you’re Big In Charge, you call the shots. The shot King called was to pass the assignment to Robards, who in turn passed it to Harry; Robards decided he didn’t need to (direct quote) “take off a week from pre-existing assignments for some fake marriage, new-build village bullshit in the arse-end of Muggle nowhere.”

Admittedly, Harry’s in a bit of a lull at the moment. He’d been assigned to track and recover Yaxley, but that trail went cold on the border of Romania. Harry’s certain he’s just beyond their reach, maybe hiding in a cave, but seeing as how Harry’s not Big In Charge, his opinion doesn’t exactly matter.

Which is precisely how he’s found himself in this bland house in the village of Arcadia, pretending to be married to his ex-girlfriend… who, incidentally, he’s still hopelessly infatuated with, even five years after he ended things.

Because Harry Potter is nothing if not pathetic.

There’d been no realistic way to decline the assignment, though. Not that he’d tried. Seriously, imagine explaining that to your boss: “Mm yeah, sorry King, I can’t do my job because I still wank to the memory of Unspeakable GW riding my—”

Ginny’s narration jerks him from his thoughts. “It’s 6:15 PM on our first day of the assignment,” she dictates into her phone. “Auror Potter and I are secured in the home, posing as Muggle couple Jenny and Henry Petri.”

“Pee-tri!” Harry corrects, throwing his voice across the room.

He hopes he’s loud enough for the camera to detect, but he isn’t exactly brave enough to find out. Harry picks up their empty curry boxes and scampers into the kitchen without so much as a backward glimpse. He may have been forced into this assignment, but he’ll be damned if he can't have a bit of fun.

Her narration stops as he dips out of sight; if Harry were the gambling sort, he’d bet all the gold in Gringotts that she shot him a two-fingered salute away from the camera.

For some fucked up reason, the thought stirs something warm and exciting that lies dormant in his stomach. What’s worse is this feeling almost makes him smile.

No.

Harry draws a breath as he enters the kitchen.

As Kingsley’s told him several times, this arrangement is strictly business— regardless of his past with her. And in retrospect, yeah, the whole setup is an easy way for King to A) refuse responsibility himself, and B) put Monkstanley in a tough spot if it goes pear-shaped.

Harry pops open the rubbish bin. This is just the sort of liability King’s always looking to avoid, really, but— wait. He blinks down into the bin to make sure he’s not just seeing things, but nope… for some reason, the interior is divided into three sections, each in a different color.

Huh! Harry mulls this over before picking the blue bin at random and tossing the containers in. Maybe he’d know what each color meant if he bothered to read the covenant rules. Fortunately, he had much more exciting plans that particular evening involving Ron, loads of butterbeer, and a Canons/Falcons match from hell.

Whatever. Surely Arcadia would make an effort to clearly explain their recycling system if they really cared about the planet.

He returns to the living room just as Ginny’s providing a more in-depth introduction. “Right. I’m Unspeakable GW, badge number”— her voice becomes garbled gibberish, an extra level of concealment, before slipping back to normal speech— “and we’re here to investigate the series of unexplained Muggle disappearances in the village of Arcadia. As this may involve a potential escapee from the Thought Chamber, the Department thought it best for me to investigate. The Thought Chamber’s been my area of expertise for four years…”

Harry sinks into the sofa as she continues; he’s unsure if he should be sad or impressed that this is teaching him more about her job than she ever shared. Not that she did this for long while they were actually together, mind. Nonetheless, his chest flutters again with that stupid bittersweet pride as Ginny scans the room with the phone camera. All of this pageantry is necessary for her job, he knows. Careful documentation. Detailed recordings.

But for fuck’s sake, look at how much she’s done! She’s the youngest Junior Unspeakable in history, soon to become Senior, if this mission works out. She’s composed, she’s eloquent, she’s graceful. Another smile threatens to break through before Harry suppresses it; he just hopes that there’s someone in her life to remind her of how special she is.

She’s really dressed for the part, too. Harry’s certain that none of this is actually in her wardrobe. Seeing her out of jeans and a jumper is off-putting, but she’s done it so damn well. She once told him that most of her clothing choices were based on how easily she could wear them flying.

He swallows the sadness creeping up his throat. He doesn’t even know if she still flies, but she doesn’t in this outfit, that’s for damn sure. Her trainers are impeccably white, with a floral button-up blouse done up to her neck. She’s a bit like a young, beautiful Aunt Petunia; Harry reckons this is more or less the goal, but when she turns around to describe the stairwell, his eyes drop to her arse.

Shit.

He glances away as quickly, but he got a good look. Her casual trousers are rolled at the ankles, but they’ve done nothing to make her look… plain. Harry shuffles on the sofa, desperate for anything else to think about. Somehow, Aunt Petunia’s face still puckers in his mind’s eye, but now he can’t escape the mental image of her bent over the oven of 4 Privet Drive, only this time sporting a round, perfect—

“Potter’s here for backup,” Ginny says, returning to the sitting room. “I’m on primary investigation.”

Thank God; he sighs at the welcome distraction before remembering that bantering with her has always been an effective palate cleanser. So he does that, instead.

“Well, you know what they say,” Harry calls, leaning back against the cushions. “There’s nothing less interesting than the suburbs. Which is why I could never do your job, Jen.” He ends with a wink, resting his hands behind his head.

Ginny arches a brow, holding the camera in front of her. “And please take note, Attica, that the next time this happens, I’ll be the one to choose the names.”

She means it casually… he knows she means it casually. But something in her words pricks him. Irritates him. Wedges beneath his skin.

“Quite an assumption I’ll ever spend this much time with you again,” Harry mutters under his breath.

Shit.

He freezes. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, at least not so… bitterly. Once upon a time, he possessed the social graces to think before replying like that— but days of interpersonal nuance are long gone. They belonged to a carefree teenager with few thoughts aside from the next time he’d run his fingers through the thick, red hair that currently swayed in a long ponytail.

By the time he looks back up at her, Ginny’s face is filled with disappointment. And she’s closed her phone.

“I’ll have to redo that last bit of filming,” she says with a sniff. “But for what it’s worth?” She raises her chin. “You didn’t mind spending time with me in the distant, distant past, Auror Potter.”

Ha!

That was a tremendous understatement.

He’d been in love with her. Stupidly. Disgustingly. The first six months after the war were a blur of sex and mourning. They’d been so punch drunk and delirious that they probably used each other’s bodies more than either of them knew. He really thought they’d have a future, though… that they’d end up getting married and buying a house. Except theirs would have been different than this one. Filled with far more character and history and warmth. Their home would have smelled like baking bread and sounded like kids giggling and felt like a soft blanket on a cold night.

But none of that had anything to do with the way he snapped. So why bring it up, really?

“Sorry,” Harry whispers, tucking his hands beneath his bum. “That… I didn’t mean. I’m sorry. I just meant that we don’t see each other much, and…” He lets out a slow breath. Best to stop talking before he digs himself deeper.

“I forgive you,” Ginny says quietly. A full second passes before she offers him a smirk. “As long as I can still call you Pookie Pie in front of the neighbors.”

Harry blinks at the carpet with a sad smile. “Deal.”

[harrylilies]

The Royal Series | Pt. VI

The Royal Series Masterlist

"What do you mean I have to take him with me? I'm going on a two- day trip with my friends." You asked your grandmother in shock.

"Which is why it's the perfect way to get to know each other. I know you don't like following the formal way so do it your way." She told you before sipping her tea.

You laughed in disbelief, shaking your head before looking at your grandpapa, Prince Philip, "Please say something."

"Darling," Prince Philip sighed before looking at his wife. "You know how Y/N hardly gets to go on vacation with her friends and this seems like a duty."

You motioned with your hands at him as you looked at her, mouthing an "Exactly.”

"Fred is 26, he will fit in with Y/N and her group of friends."

"Why are you doing this?" You whispered, leaning back on your chair in defeat.

She put her hand on top of yours, looking at you with soft eyes. "It's for the best. For you."

You shook your head, "This isn't what I want. It’s what the government wants. What you think is best."

"It's what you need." She finished for you before standing up, making you stand. "Amsterdam is an exotic place. I expect you to not do anything you might regret, sweetheart." She told you before looking down at one of her corgis, Willow.

"Oh, can I hold Fred's hand? Maybe steal a kiss or two." You said sarcastically, knowing well that you were pushing her buttons, something that made Prince Philip snicker under his breath.

"Y/N," she looked at you, "As long as it's nothing that can be held against you, harm you or downgrade you, you're free to do anything you please."

"Free," you chuckled before nodding. "Yes, Ma'am."

After she left the room, you were left with your granpapa who instantly approached you and put his arm around your shoulders, his sympathetic eyes looking at you. "But you have fun on your trip. I'm sure Fred isn't half bad."

"I know he isn't, Papa." You sigh, feeling him squeeze your shoulder. "I feel so pressured."

"Everything will be alright, darling. You just have fun for me, will you?”

//

"How was your nap?" You asked Fred politely as you and your friends sat, having breakfast in the hotel.

"Very satisfying," he chuckled, pouring himself a cup of tea. "What about you?"

"Haven't really slept. Nia and I decided to play monopoly instead." You chuckled, adjusting your jacket.

"Hear it from us first, Princess Y/N of the UK breaks royal rule and plays Monopoly. Scandalous!" Fred said in a dramatic reporter voice, making you laugh.

"Come on, you must have broken a lot of rules before."

He nodded, "I don't really go by the rules." He shrugged before chuckling, “Except for that necklace I gifted you, I’m sorry. That was my mother’s doing.”

"How scandalous and vulgar." You joked, putting a hand on your heart dramatically.

"Your Royal Highnesses are needed in our conversation." Your friend, Nia, joked. You and Fred looked at her together, "We were saying we should go canal cruising right away. Although I'm scared to shit."

"Why? Not a fan of water?" Fred asked her.

Nia shook her head, laughing. "I'm a terrible swimmer. Can't rescue myself if I ever fall."

"It's true. She swims like a sad cat." Eddie joked, laughing more when Nia swatted his arm.

"It's alright, we'll all be together so I doubt you won't get rescued if you fall." Fred smiled, putting his loosely crossed arms on the table.

"Are you saying we can fall off?" Emma asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Fred instantly straightened his posture and shook his head, looking back and forth between Nia and Emma. "I didn't mean that. Not that way."

Emma laughed, "I'm just joking."

"Oh." He chuckled, scratching the nape of his neck.

"Well, it's comforting knowing that we have a professional swimmer with us. Very assuring." Trevor said before putting his fork down, "Because Y/N here, said she was skipping on this activity."

They all nodded, knowing what you already told them. You gave them a sheepish smile, shrugging, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. You fucking better make use of these 4 hours we're gone in." Nia pointed at you.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Also send us pictures." Farrah said, elbowing you.

"You're all embarrassing."

//

"Do I look bizarre?" You ask one of your personal guards, Andrew, motioning to yourself. You had a "Treat People With Kindness" black hoodie, the hood covering your head, black trousers and your black vans on. You had your sunnies on, opting to not get recognized.

Andrew shook his head, "You don't, Your Highness. I don't believe people would notice."

"Told you to call me Y/N, Andy." You chuckled, taking your phone out.

"It's a habit." Your other guard, Sid, said.

You chuckled again as you texted the one person whom you were impatiently waiting for.

I'm outside x

Almost instantly, you received a reply.

I'll let Jeffery come and get you x

You waited for about 3 minutes before the black door in front of you opened and out came a grinning Jeff. "Your Highness, good to see you again."

You smiled, "Just Y/N. And thank you, Jeffrey. It's good to see you, too."

"Just Jeff." He corrected you teasingly as you walked inside and backstage. "Harry has been all over the place since we knew you're coming. Doesn't shut up about you. Don’t tell him I said that though."

You felt your cheeks heat up, only giggling in response. You stopped in front of a brown door that had "DRESSING ROOM" beside it.

"He's inside." Jeff said, knocking. "Harry?"

"Come inside!"

You grinned, glancing at your guards who chuckled and took a step back. "We'll wait here." Sid said.

Jeff opened the door for you, motioning for you to go inside.

You took off your sunnies, holding them in your hands instead as your eyes fell on the man in ruffles in front of you who was looking down, his head snapping up once he noticed your presence.

"Y/N," Harry breathed out softly as his face broke into a grin, taking long strides towards you before wrapping his arms around you, his head buried in your neck as he brought your body closer to his. "I missed you."

Your arms around his shoulders squeezed him tighter, closing your eyes as you let his warmth engulf you. "I missed you, too, H."

At the nickname, Harry felt himself smile. He pulled back, his hands moving to your face as he softly and so gently stroked your cheeks with his thumbs. "H, huh?"

You let out a small nervous chuckle, shrugging as you wrapped your arms around his torso and looked up at him. "It slipped."

"I love it." He confessed quietly.

Your hands moved to his arms that were covered by the silky shirt, feeling so soothing and satisfying under your fingers as you looked at him. "This is the part when you kiss me." You teased him, feeling your faces get closer.

"And this is when you kiss me back."

If you could describe Harry's lips against yours, you'd use the word "melting.”

Melting was what you felt, slowly letting the feeling of his lips on yours let you loose. Melting went your worries and everything around. Melting went all the judgement and overthinking. Harry's lips absolutely melted you.

Pulling away with a smack and smiles, Harry pecked your lips once again softly. "You have very kissable lips."

"Yeah?" You looked up at him.

"Yeah." Harry confirmed, leaning down to steal one more soft and quick kiss.

"I like the ruffles." You said, running your hands through them.

"Jeff says I look like I came from the wrong era." Harry said, looking down at himself.

You laughed, shaking your head. "You look just fine. I told you that you would."

"’Nough about me. Nice sweatshirt." Harry's lips turned to a smug smirk, looking down at you wearing his own merch. "I was so nervous that I got Farrah's address wrong and it wouldn't be delivered there though."

"I told you I can get it online."

"And I told you to consider it as a gift." Harry shrugged. "Can you help me with my hair? It won't-" Harry patted his head, looking up, "It won't sit."

You laughed, taking a hold of his wrist to get it away from his head.

"Sit down." You urged him to the vanity chair, him sitting and giving you a wide toothed comb. You began to softly comb it, enjoying how luscious and soft in felt. "So, are you coming tonight?"

Harry looked at you through the mirror, his eyes focused on how concentrated you looked as you combed his hair gently with a faint smile on his face. "Do you think your friends will like me?"

"You already liked Farrah as far as I know and she liked you. My friends are fun to be around, promise." You nodded, glancing at him through the mirror before looking at his hair.

"What were their names again?"

"Eddie, Nia, Trev and Emma." You replied instantly before your move hitched, pursing your lips. "And-and Fred." "Fred?" Harry repeated, "Don't remember a Fred in the text you sent me a couple of days ago."*

"Yeah, he's just," You gulped, shrugging your shoulders. "He's just a friend of ours that joined last minute."

Harry nodded, his index and thumb moving to graze his bottom lip; something you picked on was a habit of his when he felt nervous or in thought.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked gently, putting the comb down before softly beginning to run your fingers through his hair to fluff it.

Harry sat up straight, lacing his fingers together in his lap as you both looked at each other through the vanity mirror. "You know I don't consider you a fling, don't you?"

"Uh," your eyes moved to look at his hair again instead of him, shaking your head slightly. "I didn't actually."

"So you," Harry paused, stopping your hands from moving by grabbing them and putting them around his shoulders instead. "You think you're a fling?"

You shrugged, feeling his thumbs gently stroke your knuckles. "I don't know, I-" You stopped, "I don't really know what do you consider me, Harry. Whether you see this going anywhere or you're scared. Or if you feel like I'm too much to handle or not. I don't know if you think this is worth it. Or if-if you just think this is adventurous and risky, gives you that thrilling feeling. It happened to me right after uni and I think I stopped understanding people's intentions ever since. When it comes to that I mean." You confessed, giving him a pursed smile after you finished as you looked back at him. "I don't have history, Harry. I don't-" You paused, shaking your head as you let out a low laugh, "I don't know."

"Y/N," Harry said softly, holding your hand and moving you till you were in front of him, letting you stand between his legs as he looked up at you.

His hands moved to hold your waist, looking up at you as you rested your hands on his shoulders. "Then I will tell you what you don't know. What you should know is that I like you. I really do. I don't care about your status or if you have guards around you all the time. Fuck it, I don't even care if I have to wait for you for three hours outside your flat and behind bushes because your grandmother isn't with us being together. I," Harry chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, "Call me a sap, a total cliché tosser but I have never felt like this about anyone before, Y/N. So here I am, an hour before my show begins, with everyone outside and the world oblivious to me having Her Highness Princess Y/N of the United Kingdom in my hold and me only caring about everything that you wish you can show to everyone, including your family, and about being there when you try new takeout," he chuckled,

"And what I'm trying to ask you is, do you want us to be-" Harry stood up, towering over you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

And there you stood; oblivious to his heartbeats that Sarah could probably use instead of her drums, his body hot and his nerves feeling as though they were about to get wrecked.

"Do you want us to be together? Exclusive?" Harry asked, "Do you want to be my girlfriend, Y/N?"

You let out a small laugh of shock, looking up at him before raising your eyebrows. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." He nodded.

Instantly, your hands cupped his cheeks and you brought your lips to his in a deep, strong kiss, tilting his head slightly to feel all of it before pulling away. "Are you sure?"

"I can't stop," Harry said, almost heaving, "I can't stop thinking about you," he pecked your lips, "Kissing you," he kissed you again. "Knowing that you're mine. That I'm yours. I can't fucking stop thinking about it, Y/N.” His hands were than tangled in your hair after dropping your hood, his eyes looking into yours. "Fuck," He licked his lips, glancing at yours before looking back into your eyes. "What have you done to me, you minx?”

You giggled, "I haven't done," You shook your head. "Anything.”

"Lies." He joked with a smile drawn on his face.

"Think I just became your girlfriend."

At the confirmation, Harry only pressed his lips to yours.

//

"What do you mean you didn't tell him about Fred?" Emma asked as you sat on her bed in the hotel, watching as she towel-dried her hair.

"I mean I didn't tell him about Fred. I told him that he's our friend."

"Why did you do that? You're together now, Y/N. He should know." Nia said, plopping beside you on the bed.

"What do I say?!" You groaned, "Hey Harry, by the way, I'm somewhat arranged to marry Prince Fred by my grandmother and the government. Hope it's alright." You sarcastically said.

"Okay, I don't think she should tell him." Nia said, looking at your other friends. You chuckled, shaking your head at how easily convinced she was.

"It sounds bad," Farrah said before turning to look at you as she fixed her hijab, "But put yourself in his shoes. What if he knows about it later when it's already too messy?"

"I won't let it reach that. I'm going to do something about it." You said, glancing at your friends. "It's not like I'm going to allow that marriage."

"Still." Nia said before she popped her newly red-coloured lips.

"If I really did put myself in his shoes and I know that the woman I'm with is basically arranged to marry someone else, I'll probably run off because what's the point of fighting against the queen and the country’s fucking government? I’ll be done for." You opened your arms questioningly.

"Didn't you say that he told you he doesn't care if he hides behind the bushes because your grandma doesn't support you?" Farrah asked, pointing her mascara at you. You nodded. "Then there you have it. A keeper."

You sighed, about to drop on your back when Nia's hand on your back stopped you. "You ironed that suit. Don't mess it up because your life is fucked up."

"Wise words." You mumbled, sitting up. You nodded, standing up and looking at them. "Alright I'll tell him,"

"Yes." They all breathed out, nodding.

"When it's the right time." You continued, hearing them groan in response. "We've just got together today!"

"Look, baby," Emma approached you, putting her hand on your shoulder, "We'll be here for you whenever you decide to do whatever you want. You're a grown woman and you handle complicated shit everyday in your life. We trust you, okay?"

You smiled, nodding. "Thank you, Em."

"I second Em."

"Third her." Farrah smiled at you, blowing you an exaggerated kiss.

"That jumpsuit looks good on you, by the way."

"Speaking of looking good," Nia began, standing up and scrunching her curly hair as she looked in the mirror. "Fred isn't half bad. He's decent."

You, Emma and Farrah looked at each other with surprised smirks before looking at Nia who noticed the change in the room, looking back at you. "What?" She asked, furrowing her eyebrows. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" Emma challenger her teasingly.

"Like I just told you I want to shove my tongue down his throat." Nia replied.

"Your words, not ours." You teased her, laughing when she gave you a "come on!"

You raised your hands up in surrender, "Just think I should let you know that I'm a taken woman and as far as I know, he's single."

"You three," Nia pointed at you, raising her eyebrows, "Are shit, do you know that?"

"Come on, it's almost 7. We better leave." Farrah said, checking her phone.

Meeting with the guys in the lobby and getting into the cars, you all drove towards the restaurant which Eddie told you was one of the best. Harry had texted you prior, telling you that he was almost there.

"Better early or I won't get the friends approval." He had texted.

Walking behind Trevor who turned to look at you over his shoulder, "Can I give him the if-you-hurt-her-I-hurt-you talk?"

"Absolutely not." You scolded him under your breath before chuckling.

"Geez, fine. Guess I'll stick to the embarrassing stories."

"Trev-" Trevor speeded off while snickering, letting you stop behind Fred.

"You look nice, Y/N." Fred smiled softly at you.

"Thank you, Fred. So do you." You smiled back, nodding your head.

"I was uh," he cleared his throat, looking behind you for a second. "I was meaning to ask you about something."

You nodded, urging him to. "Sure, what is it?"

"Is Nia-" He looked behind you again before lowering his head and voice, "Is she seeing anyone?"

Not knowing how to contain the grin, you glanced behind you at her before looking back at Fred. "She isn't actually. Want me to put in a good word for you?"

"No, no, I-" He shook his head instantly before looking down at you, "Would you? Would you do that?"

You hummed, nodding. "Of course."

He nodded, "Yeah, that would be-that would be nice."

You chuckled before nodding at him and looking in front of you, grinning when your eyes fell on the one person you absolutely wanted to kiss.

"Come on. Let's meet that boyfriend of yours." Emma whispered in your ear as you all walked towards the table where Harry stood, his hands behind his back and a welcoming smile on his face.

You were almost standing in line, watching your friends greet Harry who was grinning, shaking everyone's hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Harry." Emma smiled at him before sitting down; not before looking at you and giving you a discreet “ok” hand sign and a thumb up.

You approached him, smiling when he quickly leaned in, greeting you with a peck on your lips. "You look incredible." He whispered.

"You look handsome, too." You replied. Harry pulled your seat out for you, making you sit near him as he sat at the head of the table, you sitting on the first chair to his left.

"Y/N told me you went on a canal cruise, how was it?" Harry asked, smiling as his hand rested on your knee.

And so, the conversation started flowing naturally and easily, filled with laughter and playful banter.

"I saw the video, that one you posted on your Instagram story," Eddie pointed at you before looking back at Harry, "You're bloody talented, mate."

"Right? You have amazing vocals, Harry." Farrah agreed.

You smiled as you looked at Harry, seeing his cheeks slightly turn to faded pink, making you put your hand on his on your knee. "You should hear him live. It's exactly like the studio version." You told them.

"Hey! We should definitely go once." Emma suggested, looking around at everyone on the table who agreed.

"You're welcome to any time." Harry politely said with a sheepish smile.

"Any time isn't convenient to these two royal highnesses." Trevor motioned with his hand at you and Fred, making your smile falter slightly.

Harry's eyebrows raised before looking at Fred, "Oh, excuse me. I wasn't aware that you were-."

You looked down, your ears almost perked at the conversation as the girls eyed you. Fred chuckled, nodding. "Eh, piss off,” he joked, “It doesn't matter. I'm probably going to give it up as soon as I can."

"Oh," Harry almost absentmindedly began rubbing your knee with his thumb, affectionately. "But why? If I may ask so."

"Y/N can tell you about it or she probably already did. Expectations, force, control, all that. No offense to you, darl," Fred looked at you for a second before looking back at Harry. "It's the whole marriage thing that tipped me off." "Marriage?" Harry asked confusingly, seeming interested in the talk.

"You know what? I think royal talk is the last thing we need right now," Nia interrupted them, you releasing a breath. "Harry, where's your next show?"