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multifandomrandomgirl · 3 years

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I Thought You Were Dead - Lupin!reader x Sirius Black

"Avada Kedavra!" Rodolphus Lestrange shot the killing curse at me, I narrowly missed it, the spell passing my arm, I collapsed to the floor, pretending to be dead. I heard the Death Eaters leave the street, that's when I decided that I'd disappear for a while, just until things calmed down.

I was on my way to Godric's Hollow that evening to meet James and Lily's son for the first time when Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy had attacked me. I was meeting my brother there as well, then I was due to stay at his.

I thought about it hard and then I felt the change, I had turned into my Animagi form, I was unregistered so the Ministry couldn't figure anything out. I spread my wings out and flew as far away from the West of England as I could get before my wings ached.

I found a tree and looked around. Welcome to Abergavenny. A sign read, even in my Little Owl form I could read the sign. I was in Wales.

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For the next fifteen years, I lived in trees around Abergavenny. I found a copy of The Daily Prophet lying around saying that Sirius Black's name had finally been cleared. Cleared from what? I don't know, this was the first Wizarding paper I had seen since that night fifteen years ago when the Death Eaters attacked me.

Apparently Black had got his old family home back again, which gave me an idea, maybe I could fly across and see if he is there or not.

I found a mouse to eat before setting off on the journey to London, to find Sirius. On the flight across, I wondered how my brother, Remus, was. I hadn't seen him since the month before the attack, he had no clue what had happened unless The Daily Prophet had covered it.

I felt bad, I could have at least sent him a letter in my animagus form, to let him know that I was alive and okay.

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Once I reached the Black Residence, I pecked on the door as hard as I could, I could hear footsteps getting closer and closer and then it opened, Molly, a girl who was in my brothers year at Hogwarts opened the door. "Come in little owl! You must be cold and wet!" She exclaims, letting me fly in, the rain had not long started.

"Who is it, Molly?" Sirius asks, poking his head around the door. "An owl, it's odd though, it's carrying a copy of The Daily Prophet from three days ago." I perch on her arm as she takes to through to the kitchen. I hadn't told anyone about being an animagus so no one would recognise me.

"Where'd the owl come from?" A boy who looked a lot like James Potter asked Molly. " I don't know." She says, I spot my brother and immediately fly over to him and land on his arm, giving him a peck on his hand for affection. "It seems to like you though Remus." Bill grins.

I hoot a little as Remus strokes over my feathers, god I'd missed him. "Where are you going little owl?" He asks as I hop off of him and onto the floor. I thought about my true appearance, my human form and for the first time in fifteen years, I was human again.

"Lola? I thought you were dead!" Remus jumps out of his chair and pulls me into a hug. "I know, I'm sorry. I had to disappear though, it was my only option then." I cry into my older brothers shoulder.

"What really happened? The Ministry said that you were killed by Death Eaters and then they hid your body." Remus pulls an extra chair out and sat me down. "Well, I was on the way to Godric's Hollow to visit James and Lily, like we all were to visit their new child, and on the way, I was stopped by Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange, they all started firing killing curses at me after I refused to tell them where the Potter's were hiding." I start.

"Then Rodolphus fired another, it barely missed my arm but I faked being dead, so they left. Then as I'm an unregistered animagi, I switched forms and then have lived in Abergavenny ever since. This is the first time I've been in human form since that night." I sigh. "I'm so sorry Lola. How'd you know that we were here?" Remus puts a hand on my shoulder.

I pointed at the copy of The Daily Prophet that I had brought with me. "That, someone had dropped it. It felt good seeing one again, I hadn't seen a copy of it lying around since, well, since when I left. Speaking of which Sirius, what does it mean by you finally got your name cleared? I've had no news at all for fifteen years." I turn to look at the other man.

"Well, the year after you died- I mean disappeared, Peter Pettigrew sold the Potter's out to the Dark Lord, their hiding place and everything. The Dark Lord then killed the Potter's, but their son, Harry, survived. I apparated across as soon as I heard the news, Pettigrew killed twelve muggles with a single curse and then cut his own finger off and ran off, in his animagi form. I then got arrested for it and spent the next twelve years in Azkaban." Sirius explains the whole story.

"Wow. I'm so sorry about your parents." I turn to the boy who looked just like James. He gives me a small smile. "Oh, you don't know who I am, do you? Remus! I'd have thought that you would have at least told the boy about me!" I joke before introducing myself to him.

"I seriously thought you were dead Lola please don't ever do that to me again." My brother says, hugging me again. "I know, I apologise. I was going to write and send it using my animagi form but it was too dangerous, I didn't know what the Ministry had said about me and if word got out to the Death Eaters then I would have been gone for good. And I didn't know where you were living at the time so..." I trail off.

"Don't worry about that. All that matters is that I have you back now and I won't let you out of my sight." I study Remus' face, there were tears rolling down it. I use my now way to small cloak to wipe his tears away. "We need to get you new cloaks and probably a wand as well." He says.

"I don't need it," I say. "Why not?"

"It's probably best if I live as an owl, for now, considering that Sirius said that the Death Eaters and you know who is on the rise again. I don't want to risk anything, it isn't worth it." I smile weakly at my brother. "You can live here with us!" Sirius offers. "Thank you, Pads, that means sometimes I can be human again." I grin.

"I can't believe I wasn't with you that night, I-I could have fought them off." He blabbers, I stop him. "They'd have killed you too. They took my wand and snapped it so I couldn't fight back." I sigh.

I catch Dumbledore whispering something to Severus and him nodding in agreement. "Well, I'll get dinner started! I'm sure you all, especially Lola must be hungry!" Molly stands up, Professor McGonagall and what looks like Molly's daughter go and help her.

"Definitely, I've lived off of rodents, beetles and other small mammals for the past fifteen years, I can't remember what real food tastes like." I laugh, it was a dry, raspy laugh as I hadn't used my voice for fifteen years.

"Ew!" Another boy, who looked like Molly and Arthur, exclaims. "How about we make you live off of that diet Ron?" Two identical twins giggle. "Can you tell me who everyone is, I only recognise Bill Weasley out of the younger people, I've not seen Molly since he was born," I whispered to Remus.

He points everyone out, including people I already knew, just to refresh my memory. "Thank you, big brother." I smile, not too long later, Molly and the other two are done cooking dinner, which was mashed potato and chicken.

"Thank you, this is amazing. It's so nice to eat proper food again." I wolf done my plate. "You're welcome." Molly smiles. "Lola, slow down, you're going to-" I cut my brother off by coughing violently. "-choke." He finishes, helping me out.

"Thanks, Remmy." I grin, wiping my mouth. "Don't call me that and calm down yeah? No need to eat so damn quickly." Remus shakes his head. "Wouldn't you be excited though to finally eat proper food and not rodents and beetles and stuff?" I ask him. "I know where you're coming from. Azkaban doesn't feed you well and when I escaped and before I got my name cleared, I was living in my animagi form, eating whatever I could find."

"Thank you, Sirius!" I exclaimed, happy that someone got my point. He smiles up at me before I turn back to Remus. "See my point Remmy, human food is much nicer than the food I've lived off of for fifteen years."

"Okay okay! Just stop calling me Remmy." He groans. "What about Rem?" I ask. "No!"

"What can I give you as a nickname then?" I giggle. "You can use his nickname from school. Moony!" Sirius suggests. "Great idea! Thank you!" I grin. "So Moony, you see my point now?" I stuff the last mouthful of food into my mouth.

"I'll go wash up, once you're done, bring your plates through!" I stand up and head towards the sink."Lola, don't, I'll do it." Molly says. "Nope, you, Ginny and Professor McGonagall cooked, I'll clean."

"Lola, it's Minerva to you now, I'm no longer your teacher." McGonagall laughs. "Sorry Professor- I mean Minerva!" I start to run a sink full of water. After I'd finished washing everyone's plates and the pots up, I sit back down next to my brother.

"So, owl life eh?" Moody asks me. "Yeah," I reply. "How was it?" He asks. "It was decent until the male owls took some uh interest into me." I roll my eyes at the thought. "Haha, that must have sucked."

"Yep."

"So Lola, you'll be sharing a room with your brother, for now. You may join the Order if you wish, but stay undercover as an owl." Professor Dumbledore smiles at me. "Alright. I will join the Order, considering this time I am old enough." I say. "Good. We'll have you spying on people because you are unregistered, right?" I nod. "And if we need to reach Harry or anyone in or out of Hogwarts, we'll rely on you to deliver messages as an owl, it's less risky than using one of our own, no one will know who you belong to."

"Great!" I say I feel Remus wrap an arm around me protectively. "Don't worry dear brother, I won't get myself hurt or anything," I say. "I know. I'm just worried after the accident fifteen years ago. I really don't want to lose you again."

"I know, I'll be fine though. I'm thirty-five now, that's only a year younger than you." I reassure him. "You're still my little sister though." He says. "Yes I know, I'll always be your little sister, I can't really change that." I pat him on the back.

"Well, it looks like it's time for me to turn back into an owl," I say after half an hour of discussing things that I have missed in the past decade and a half. "I love you, Lola." Remus mumbles. "I love you too."

Then I transformed back into an owl. "We'll go and get some mealworms tomorrow for you," Hermione says. I flap my wings and sit on Remus's knee. It made me happy to finally see him again. He cups me in his hands and holds me close to his chest, stroking my feathers gently.

Remus was overprotective of me at Hogwarts when we were younger, goodness knows how protective he'll be now, now he knows what really happened.

I gently pecked his face, as if I was kissing it. "Hey man, can I hold her? I want to tell her something." Sirius says, Remus nods and hands me over to him.

"Hey, avoid the other owls, the male ones are a little... "He couldn't finish his sentence because an owl swoops down and starts to rub himself against me. "Pigwidgeon! No!" Ginny showed the owl away.

"Just be careful, yeah?" Sirius sniggers, I peck his hand hard out of annoyance. " Ouch, Moony! Your sister pecked me. "I can see why she'd do it, if I were an owl then I'd peck your eyes out."

"Don't give her ideas!" Sirius squeaks. I give a weird sounding hoot, which was meant to be a laugh but oh well, Remus gave me a weird look. "What's it like having an owl for a sister?" Sirius joked. "Well, I also have a dog for a best friend so you know." Remus laughs, taking me back off of Sirius.

Sirius transforms into a dog and barks at me, I hoot back loudly. He tries to lick me so I peck his ear. "Ouch, Moony, your sister's a bully." Sirius whines, turning back into his human form and rubbing his ear. I give a little-satisfied hoot before settling myself onto Remus' shoulder and snuggling into his neck.

"Isn't it a bit weird though? Having her living as an owl." Ron asks. "Ronald! It's for her safety." Molly whacks him over the head with a tea towel. I jump off of my brother and switch forms. "That's rich coming from you, you slept with Peter Pettigrew every night for years." I snort.

"So?" He glares. "It's no different, he's an animagus as well. And he slept in your bed with you." Remus pulls me down. "Idiot, it's not like I knew he was an animagus whereas Remus now does know you're an animagus. Wanker, coming in and ruining stuff." Ron mumbles. "Excuse me, what was that?" I gasp. "I SAID YOU RUINED EVERYTHING, NOW GET OUT." He yells.

I transform back into an owl and fly out of an open window. I hovered by it to hear the argument that raged on inside.

"RONALD! THAT WASN'T VERY NICE!" Molly screams. "Mum calm down, I'll go and find her." Bill stands up, Charlie and a girl called Nymphadora follow him out of the door. I fly higher up so I don't get seen. "What if I never see her again? I don't want to lose her again." My brother cries.

"They'll get her back, don't worry Moony." Sirius comforts him. "I hope so Padfoot. Fifteen years was long enough without her. I failed mum and dad, I promised to protect her, then I lost her." He Sobs. "You haven't failed anyone."

You never failed me or mum or dad don't worry Remus. You were a great big brother. I think. "Ron, apologise to Remus. You're the reason his sister is gone." Arthur snaps. "Well she shouldn't have interfered should have she?"

"I'm going to bed." Remus sighs. I looked down at the ground, I could see the Weasley brothers and Tonks below me. "Have you found her?" Sirius asks, coming out and joining them. I silently fluttered to directly above him and pooed into his hair.

"Accio Owl." Charlie sniggers, I land into his arms. "LOLA LUPIN! YOU RUINED MY AMAZING HAIR!" Sirius screams once we got inside. "Scream again and I'll shit in your hair again." I giggle, turning back into my owl form. "Oh no, you won't." Sirius uses magic to get rid of the poo before turning into a dog and chasing me upstairs into the room that Remus was staying in.

My wings began to ache so I landed on the bed, Sirius jumped up on top of me and barked. "Sirius, shut up." Remus groans. The dog licks my face, he goes to lick me again but I get there first and peck his nose. He whines a little and I hoot happily.

I transform back into my human form, Sirius still on top of me. He licks my face again before transforming into human form as well. "Well Miss Lupin, have you learnt your lesson?" He straddles me, moving his face closer to mine and whispering.

"I guess I have Mister Black," I smirk up at him, he leans down and kisses me, moving to my neck and starting to take off my top. I moan slightly when he hits a certain place on my neck, he smirks at me and continues to suck that part of my neck.

"Lola quit moaning, I want to go to sle-." Remus got off of his bed. "Sirius Orion Black, get the fuck off of my sister, now!" He yells, Sirius scampers out of the room and my brother comes to sit next to me. "Did he hurt you? What happened? Why was he on top of you? Are you oka-" My brother starts. "Yeah, I'm fine," I say.

"Sirius was on top of you- he was making out with you," Remus says. "So? What if I liked it?" I grin. "You little shit. First, you disappear for fifteen years and now you're practically having sex with my best mate. I'm disgusted in you. Get out."

I will myself into owl form and fly as quickly as I can, out of the room, bumping into Charlie on the way. "You okay?" He asks. I turn back into my human form. "Yeah, Remus kicked me out of the room because of stuff." I say.

"Lola, I still can't believe you." I hear Remus' voice getting closer. "Sleeping with Sirius, what were you thinking?" Charlie glances at me, Sirius runs up the stairs and grabs my arm.

"My wardrobe, owl form quick." I switch and he puts me on his arm, covering me with his cloak. "There you go." Sirius places me into his wardrobe. I hoot a thank you to him before he closes the doors on me.

"Hey Padfoot, have you seen my sister?" Remus asks. "No." Sirius answers. "Shit."

"Why do you need her?" Please don't speak. "I need to speak to her regarding something. I'm not impressed with her."

"Or you for that matter." Remus mutters. "What was that?" Sirius asks. "I'm not impressed with the fact that you were on top of my baby sister and kissing her, Black." Remus says, "Why ever not Moony?" I can practically hear Sirius smirk. "It's wrong!" Remus says.

"Well, Remus, when two people-" Sirius begins. "Yes, I fucking know, just why my sister? No one has seen her in fifteen years and the moment she reappears, you take that opportunity to sleep with her!" There was a door slam, and then silence. The wardrobe door opened and Sirius picked me up and placed me gently on his bed. "I'm sorry." He mumbles.

"It's fine, don't worry about it." I put my hand on his shoulder. "But I-" Sirius begins. "What if I liked it?" I wink and leave Sirius alone in his room.

I go and sit in the kitchen. "You good?" Charlie asks me. I nod. "Yeah, I think Remus is out to murder Sirius though." I giggle. "Ah."

"Lola." Remus appears in the doorway. "Remus." I stare at him. "I-" We both try to speak. "You first." I say, Remus sits down next to me.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm just scared something bad's going to happen to you again. I'm scared of losing you." He says. "I understand, I went off the radar completely and then began to get comfy with someone I haven't seen for fifteen years, I'm sorry." We both go to hug each other.

"Aww, the Lupin's are back to being happy siblings again." Sirius coos. "Shut it Black."

"What even happened in the first place?" Kingsley asks, settling down in his chair, readying himself for the tale. Sirius grins and opens his mouth. "Well, after Lola and I played 'chase', I may have kissed her and some stuff and Remus lowkey flipped about it."

He explained some more of the story in detail, Charlie and Kingsley snigger at points of the story, particularly when it got to the part about him straddling me on the bed and then hiding in his wardrobe to hide from Remus.

"Sirius! Did you have to go into that much detail?" I screech when he said something inappropriate, he shrugs at me, a smirk forming on his face. I switch to my animagus form and fly at him, trying to peck his face. Sirius switched form too and I flew after him. "LOLA, SIRIUS, STOP!" Remus sighs, rubbing his hand over his face before chasing after us.

I see blood dripping down the side of Sirius' face. "Lola, what did you do to him?" My brother grabs my wing, I try to peck his hand to try and free myself from his grasp. "Petrificus Totalus." Remus points his wand at me. "Remus, you did not just petrify your sister, did you?" Molly gasps in horror as Remus holds my stiff owl body in his hand.

"Ah, whatever. She'll be fine." He waves it off as if it was no big deal, the little shit. "Pads, I need you to transform back." Remus orders Sirius, tossing my on the sideboard as if I was an inanimate object. Sirius does as he is told and Remus Padfoot's ear, wiping the drying blood off of it. "Lola, you've taken a small chunk of his ear off." Oops, well. He deserved it.

"I'll take care of Sirius, Remus. Don't worry." Molly shuffles past my brother, picking up Sirius. "Thank you, Molly."

Remus POV

I pick the owl up from the sideboard and carry her upstairs into the room we're sharing. "Finite." I mumble, she becomes unstuck and quickly transforms back into a human. "Lola, you took out a chunk of his ear." I glare at her. "I know, I'm sorry." She glances at the floor, I feel slight guilt for petrifying her, but she deserved it.

"You need to think about what you have done Lola, otherwise I might petrify you again." I giggle, I glance at the girl once more before exiting the room and going downstairs.

Lola POV

I lay on my bed and pull my duvet over my eyes, wanting to go to sleep after the long, eventful day I had had. After laying in silence for ages, the bedroom door opens and in walks my brother and Tonks. I roll my eyes under my duvet and try to go to sleep.

The pair mess around in bed, I hear moaning and Tonks mumbling Remus' name over and over again, I get up, snatching the pillow and blanket off of my bed and go downstairs, reaching the kitchen, I place my pillow and duvet on the dining table and climb up, snuggling back under my duvet hoping to fall asleep. I close my eyes, but all that happened was a massive twinge of guilt as I realised that over the past 15 years, I could have gone and tried to find Remus at any time that I wanted, I could have tried to make contact with him, but I didn't. Why?

"Why are you lying on the table?" I sit up quickly and see Arthur standing by the table. I explain the situation to him, Arthur laughs. "Loud were they? Must have put a silencing charm on so the people outside couldn't hear. Unlucky you."

"They were VERY loud." I shake my head. "Well, we can't have you sleeping on a table, can't be good for your back. Come, there's a spare bed in the room that Fred and George are sharing." Arthur beckons me to follow him.

"Boys?" He knocks on their door. "Yeah?" Voices reply. "Can we come in?" The door swings open and the two identical twins stand on the other side. "What would you like Dear Father?" George, or was it, Fred? I don't know, giggles.

"Can Lola use your spare bed? Please." Arthur shoots them a stern look. "Of course, come in Lola." The twin on the left side of the door grabs my wrist, pulling me in before shutting the door on their dad.

"Thank you." I smile at the boys, pulling my other pillow and duvet on top of the ones that were already on the spare bed. "Not a problem. How come you need the spare bed?"

"My brother and Nymphadora are very loud in bed, let's just leave it at that." I sigh. "Oh damn. Well, you're very welcome to move into this room. Even when we're here, you can still have that bed."

"Thank you," I say again. "Not a problem, now, we'd best be off to sleep. Got planning to do. Don't tell Mum though. Last time she found out, she burnt all the order forms."

"I won't tell her, don't worry." I say, pulling the duvet over my shoulders and closing my eyes.

------------------time skip--------------

"Wakey wakey." My eyes shoot open, the Weasley twins are stood over me, a jug of water floating mid-air. "Ah, you're awake. If you had have slept for thirty seconds longer, that would have gone over your head." George smirks. "Oh, by the way, Remus is looking for you." Fred adds.

"What the Merlin does he want?" I groan, exiting the twins' room.

"Lola, where were you last night?" Remus says, pulling me into a hug the moment he spots me. "In the twins' room." I say. "Why?"

"Did you and Tonks have fun last night?" I raise an eyebrow. "Is that why you left the room?" Remus smirks. I nod. "Ah, sorry about that, lowkey forgot you were there during the moment, you snuck away quietly." My brother says.

"Lolaaaa!" Sirius runs at me at full speed, nearly knocking me over and hugs me. "Sirius!" I whine, hugging him back. "What?" He smirks down at me. "You nearly knocked me over." I say. He kisses my cheek and grins at me.

"Are you flirting with my sister?" Remus asks. "Possibly Moony." Sirius places his hands on either side of my cheeks and pulls me in for a kiss. I kiss him back, the kiss deepens.

"Can you two please stop kissing? It's weird!" Remus sighs in the background, Sirius chooses to ignore him, I put my arms around Sirius' neck and he picks me up and pushes me against a wall in the room.

"Padfoot! Get off my sister!" I hear a coffee cup slam down. "Remus, leave them to it." Albus' voice sounds through the kitchen. I hear the two of them leave. "My room?" Sirius murmurs, I nod. The older man carries me upstairs, his lips never leaving mine.

"Silencio." Sirius lazily waves his wand at his door before turning his attention back to me.

"Ready?"

79 notes · View notes

olivinesea · 3 years

Note

Oooh fun! Okay, do you have any headcannons or thoughts on a dyslexic Hotch? I feel like I never see dyslexia with any characters really, and I like the idea of him with it. And if you do and you want to write something about it, a dyslexic Hotch with the team (and them being the supportive and protective family they are?) Thank you! ❤️

I hope you have fun, wherever/whatever you’re doing!!

I love this so much!! Thank you :) okay I don’t have much personal experience with dyslexia so hopefully I get this decently accurate. The biggest thing that surprised me when I was doing a quick search is that it isn’t actually a matter of reading words or letters backwards? It’s more an inability to connect letters to the appropriate sounds or to break words up into component parts; a general phonological awareness struggle.

So, as with many things, it seems to me to be a matter of slowing down, learning at your own pace. This ties in nicely with so many of my other Hotch thoughts, I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before. Idk what this is, it’s neither headcanon nor proper story but hopefully it’s something like what you were looking for:

When he’s a kid he gets called a slow learner due to his undiagnosed dyslexia. It was much less common to get that kind of diagnosis back then in general and I am sure his dad would have hated the idea of his son needing any kind of extra help. So he’s slow to speak, slow to learn how to read, has difficulty with numbers, absolutely hates being called on to read out loud because it’s actual torture and the other kids have no hesitation about laughing at him. So he becomes withdrawn, labeled a “bad kid,” stops trying because, fuck it, he never gets any kind of support, who cares right? It’s always a fight at home, he starts hiding his work, lying about his grades. This works for awhile bc his parents are distracted by other things. His problems are much bigger than grades by the time they do notice.

However, while he hates school and the way people talk about him and his struggles, like he isn’t even there, he discovers that he doesn’t hate learning. There’s a small library in town where he found he could hide out, no one bothering him for hours if he just sat still for with a book open. He was good at sitting still, at being invisible. But eventually a librarian notices that he’s always got the same book open, some sort of technical manual, that he is rarely turning the pages. She asks him if he likes what he’s reading. He’s just alarmed to be spoken to, afraid that being noticed means he will soon no longer have this sanctuary. He nods and tries to bluff his way through but it’s obvious he hasn’t read it, despite having looked at it for weeks straight. The librarian doesn’t say anything outright, just lets him be for now.

Next time she sees him she brings him a different book, a collection of Grimms fairy tales. He wants to complain that it’s for little kids but is too nervous to refuse it. She asks if she can read him her favorite story from it. It’s dark and twisted and fantastical and he can’t help but be drawn in by it. He’s sad when she’s done reading, wants to hear it again, to capture all the details to replay to himself later. She shows him where it starts, encourages him to read it himself. He doesn’t look at her bc he doesn’t want her to see how upset he is by that, already frustrated by the anticipation that he won’t be able to get through it. But she stays with him, helping him where he gets stuck, asking him questions about the story, making sure it’s making sense to him.

They slowly work their way through the whole collection over the course of months. They spend days on each story, repeating it until he’s confident, she never makes him feel like he’s taking too long or wasting her time. Sometimes has to reread a section multiple times, gets hung up on the language rather than the story but it’s okay, she gives him a notebook to copy down parts that spin too loudly in his mind, saving them and also releasing him from their hold so he can move forward. She lets him keep the book, tells him it was too old to stay in circulation anyway, they had a new copy on order already. She’s the first person who was patient with him, that showed him he could do it, he just needed a little more time, a little more practice than other kids.

In college this is part of why he spends so much time at the library. Part of it is his natural inclination to overwork himself, push until he’s given more than he can in hopes that it might be almost enough. He knows he’s never been enough, why would that change just because he’s in a new place? But the other part is he simply needs more time to get through the coursework, to make it through the excessive amounts of reading he’s assigned. Some other students don’t even bother to read but he would never do that, he makes sure that he not only reads every chapter assigned but he reads it again, takes notes, highlights, annotates, does everything in his power to be prepared. Sure he might work himself to the point of exhaustion, to the point where he makes himself sick (though he’ll try to deny that too) but he’s never caught trying to read something while others wait for his answer, the letters and sounds meaningless, slipping away from him faster the more eyes he feels turn towards him, wondering what could be taking so long. No one ever gets the chance to laugh at him for being slow in college, he never allows them to see that side of him.

As an adult, the leader of the BAU, he’s too well respected for anyone to dare laugh at him but he still hates feeling unprepared. This ends up looking like long nights in the office, reviewing case files to the point of memorization, so that he won’t have to read any of it in front of his team. He can if he has to, he’s developed skills over the years, ways to calm the panic that only makes it harder, can fake it well enough that no one would really notice. Until one day, distracted by a migraine and the fallout of some fight with Haley, he gets stuck. He can’t remember something and he tries to read the sentence that has the information but the stupid word just won’t resolve into sounds that make sense and he just stops talking. He’s glaring at the form like it might catch fire. No one says anything for a moment while he tries to refocus, tries to work around echoes of laughter, decades long past but always ready to jump out at him if he lets his guard down, allows a mistake, a tired moment to derail the image of perfect competence that he’s built around himself. Penelope jumps in, finishing the thought, completing the list of traits shared by the victims. He forces himself to smile at her because he really is grateful, it wasn’t her fault. She scrunches her nose at him, dismissing his silent thanks with a toss of her head. It was nothing, everyone needs a little assist now and then.

No one brings it up and he doubles his efforts not to let anyone see. But he’s so tired on the plane coming back from a case, he’s been staring the same forms for an hour at least. He can feel his ears turning red with frustration. There’s really no reason he has to do this now but the fact that his mind is refusing, almost seems to be teasing him, makes him dig in harder. Emily sits down opposite him, pulling the folder away without asking. He’s about to say something sharp, something he’ll regret saying to her when he really means it for himself, but the expression on her face is so odd, smiling with a frown between her eyebrows. It isn’t pity, she respects him far too much, but there is curiosity and something else, something soft.

“Drink with me.” She slides him a glass and they don’t talk, just look out the window, look at the light playing off the ice in their glasses. He doesn’t see the file again until it appears on his desk, every form neatly filled out, the places needing his signature flagged. All but the last spot, where she’s signed his name eerily perfectly, difficult for even him to see that it’s not his own. Just so he knows she can if she wants to. Equal parts offer and threat.

Penelope and Reid start a book club. Derek joins right away. Emily rolls her eyes when she’s invited, muttering something about spending her free time on more work but they know she will join. Rossi flat out refuses to read the books but offers his house for meetings. Hotch hesitates, wanting to say yes but nervous to commit to an activity like that. He loves books, loves to talk about books. He doesn’t love a time limit on books.

The next time they have to drive to a case, Derek puts on a copy of the audiobook. It’s the first time they make it to a destination without any bickering from the backseat. They don’t get through the whole thing but later he finds a copy of the audiobook on his desk, complete with a disc player and headphones.

A different month, Reid tells him about how his mother always used to read him books and somehow finesses an offer to read to Hotch without him even realizing he’s accepted it. So Spencer comes in to Hotch’s office on lunch breaks occasionally and reads to him whatever the book of the month is. He loves it, remembering the first person who read to him, how shocked he’d been to be treated with patience, with understanding and wondering how he got so lucky to be surrounded by people like her, so ready to support him, wanting him there with them rather than off alone, uselessly fighting with himself to prove his self sufficiency over some uncooperative letters.

Okay, that was so much more than I was planning on but here we are. I hope you liked it and thank you SO much for the idea. If you ever have any others you want to share I am totally here for it. :)

Send me requests!

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jawritter · 4 years

Text

When The Lights Go Out

Part 1

Summary: Life hasn't been your best friend lately, you lost your job, and are on the verge of losing your apartment. Who knew when you decided to join a Sugar Daddy app that your best friend suggested ina last ditch effort to save your apartment, and not end up on the street, your first and only client would turn your whole world upside down.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean Winchester x Virgin! Reader

Word Count: 2358

Series Warnings: Mob level violence, injured Dean, description of injury, creepy Godfather John Winchester, John is pretty much a double bag, escort services, virgin reader, lose of virginity and all the insecurities and fun stuff that come with it, age gap (23 year old reader; 40 year old Dean), angst, unrequited/requited love?, language, smut, unprotected smut.

Chapter Warnings: None really, language, escort serives, angst? I think that’s it for this chapter!

A/N: Beta’d by @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much love!! Please don’t copy my work!! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!! It’s gonna be a little bit of a slow burn y’all, but just hang in there!

(This fic is based on this request: Could you do a Dean x reader where she is 23 and lives alone in her apartment, she gets fired and can loose her house, her friend tells her about a sugar daddy app, she makes a profile and Dean 40, contacts her, she is virgin and don't offers sex, Dean is billionaire business man and needs a girl for his business parties,the reader is really shy, blushes a lot, they fall in love, he takes her to a trip and makes love to her on a private island, could it be a series?)

Want more? Check out my masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

Adjusting your too short skirt, you look across the crowded street from your hiding place among the crowd of people standing on the side of the road waiting for their cab, or Uber to pick them up from whatever they had just left, or take them to wherever they intend to go.

Heavy thunder rolled over head, and you looked up at the ominous black rolling clouds that from your street view made the skyscrapers look shorter than they really were.

Your heart was pounding so loud in your ears that it drowned out all the sounds of the hustle and bustle that was New York City on an average Friday night. Even though, in reality no one noticed you, you looked no different than about six other girls standing within a four foot proximity of you, you felt like every eye was on you. Like they were judging you, and knew just what you were doing, and just who you were waiting for.

Even though you weren’t meeting this man for sex, you felt like you were no better than the whores that line the streets of Brooklyn late at night, like cattle lined up for a sale barn to go to the highest bidder.

Claire had suggested that you join the Sugar Daddy App in order to make a few extra bucks after losing your job as a junior accountant at JP Morgan. You hadn’t been there all that long, and when they changed management, your new female boss seemed threatened by all the females in the office, especially those like yourself, those that were young, those that had potential; so therefore you got the first axe.

You didn’t really like the idea, but you were really left with no choice. Even though New York was a big city, it didn’t make jobs exactly easy to come by, and you need money before next Friday, or you would be living under one of the many bridges.

It hadn’t taken long for Dean to respond to your add on the app as a paid escort, and the fact that you weren’t offering sex didn’t seem to bother him when he’d direct messaged you. He said he just needed you to attend a business party with him, a promotion for his brother, and if you did well, he might hire you permanently.

Claire seemed to think that you had hit the jackpot, and told you to jump on the opportunity, but the amount of lucid information that he’d given you as far as what to wear, and that you were to just be on his arm to “look pretty”, you couldn’t help but feel you were dealing with the mob.

You knew that was a silly notion.There was only one mob left in New York that had enough power behind them to even be threatening. Everyone else was nothing but grunts under them, and there was no way in Hell a Winchester would be using a Sugar Daddy App in order to find someone to take to a business party with him.

Claire said not to worry about it, and that you were looking into things to much, that you had watched to many Scarface movies, and this was probably just a businessman who was in his forties, overweight, and lived in one of those box cublicial apartments on Manhattan with too much money, and not enough social life to bring someone to the event.

You had your doubts.

The way he worded things, so secretive, so proper, it had you scratching your head from the moment you agreed to this job as to whether or not this was a good idea, or if you were going to be the next featured picture on the back of a milk carton as New York’s latest missing person.

Just as you were about to say fuck it, and turn around and head back to your apartment, a sleek, black SUV pulled up to the curb and stopped. Looking around you notice that everyone that was standing next to you just a few moments ago had all but vanished, either getting into their own means of transportation, or giving up all together and deciding to hoof it.

The window directly in front of you rolled down just enough for the baritone voice to filter out of the dark interior of the car.

“Y/N?” he asked, and you stepped forward cautiously. If you weren’t regretting this before, you were now.

“Yes?” you said, stopping just short of the curb.

The driver’s side door opened, and the short driver made his way out of the car, and around the back passenger door that was facing the road. He opened it for you to climb in as another round of thunder rolled, and thick raindrops started to pelt down all around you.

This was it, there was no going back now.

Swallowing the little voice that was screaming how bad of an idea this was, you climb into the back of the car and the driver shuts your door before making his way around to regain his seat at the helm of the car.

“Well, I must say you are attractive enough, but you look terrified sweetheart.” the same deep baritone voice said across the dark back seat next to you as the diver pulled out onto the street.

Straightening up in your seat, you adjust yourself and try to look less like a scared child, and more like the paid escort you were for the night.

“Well, I’m sorry Dean, but as I told you earlier, the fact that you were so secretive concerning the details of our evening made me a little uneasy. Most clients tell you where they’re going to take you, and what you are going to be doing for the evening.”

Dean chuckled next to you, and adjusted his tie.Even though it was dark in the car, the street lights let you make out his strong jawline, and handsome profile enough to know this was not some overweight businessman. He was much more than that.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Dean Winchester, and I’m hiring you to escort me to my brother’s dinner party in celebration of his promotion in my father’s company.Judging by your slack jaw, you’ve heard my last name before, and you see why it wasn’t exactly a great idea for me to put my last name, nore the details of our arrangement in a direct message on some crude app.”

You set there in total dumb founded shock.

Of all the people you thought were going to be picking you up tonight, Dean Winchester was not one of them. You had feared that this was a mafia pick up, but this was much worse.

Dean wasn’t only Mafia, he was son of the oldest, most lucrative gang in New York City’s history, his father, John, made Al Capone look like a little boy dressed in a suit. His family were ruthless, and virtually untouchable, protected by money, and God only knows what else you couldn’t even begin to imagine. They didn’t hide what they were because they didn’t have to, and you were more fucked than you thought you’d ever be.

“My brother Sammy’s promotion details are not important. The only thing you need to know is that for the evening you are my girl, and you will do as I say. Talk as little as possible, and like I said, just look pretty. That won't be that hard for you. Stick close to me, but I promise you, this is continental ground, and no one can harm you in any way. So just relax and enjoy the party.”

Dean was completely unfazed by the fact that you still seemed to be in complete shock, like this was the reaction he was expecting from you. He knew that this was your first job? Why the hell did he hire you for something this big? If you weren’t already having a panic attack, you were pretty sure you were going to by the time you got to where you were going.

“Dean, I...Look I don’t...I don’t know if this is such a good idea.What if they don’t buy that I’m your girlfriend, and furthermore why do YOU, of all people, need help getting a girlfriend?” you asked. Dean threw his head back against the seat of the car, his deep booming laugh echoing through the entire car.

“Sweetheart, relax.You're perfect. I didn’t want someone with experience. Escorts in my line of work are, well, a commonly used expense, and I didn’t want someone that is recognizable to anyone that is going to be at this party tonight. I wanted this to be believable. As far as why I need you? Well that’s easy. I’m 40 years old, and unmarried, but I’m also my father’s successor to the company.The only problem is, the high table seems to think that I should have a wife by now, and I don’t, so you are here to keep my father and my elders off my back.” Dean said shortly as the car came to a stop in front of The Roosevelt Hotel.

Dean reached into a folder that was sitting on the seats between you, pulling out a stack of papers that were stapled together, and handing them to you. You took them with what you knew had to be the most bewildered look on your face that anyone had ever had, but Dean seemed to be unfazed as the dome lights were switched on inside the car, and Dean handed you a pen.

His large, freckle dusted hands, made everything they touched seem so small, and you wondered how many people those hands had killed before you buried it deep down inside of you, not letting the thought manifest.

This man was dangerous, but you needed the money.

“This is a NDA.It says that you can not disclose your employment with me, nor anything else you will witness here tonight as long as you live. It’s virtually a gag order. It’s for your protection, not mine.”

You nodded your head and swallowed hard, not daring to ask what the hell would happen to you if you broke said agreement, and signed the papers, knowing you had no choice.

Looking up at the astonishing greens eyes staring back at you, you fought against the deep blush that pooled through your cheeks. Dean was handsome, and there was no denying that.

“Okay, so, I know you said no sex, which quite honestly is a shame,” he said, looking you over in the small space, his perfect white teething pulling at his lower lip, making you blush even deeper than you already where, “but in order to make this convincing, there’s going to have to look like there is some degree of intamicy between us. In other words, I will hold your hand, touch you, tastefully of course, we're not animals, and I may even kiss you if need be, is that okay?”

The thought of those pink, plump lips on yours made a shiver go all the way down your spine, and you had to look down for a moment to compose yourself.

“Yes sir, that’s fine.”

Dean chuckled as he opened his car door, getting out to open yours, his large, warm hand going to your lower back as he pulled you in close to him once you stepped out of the car.

“Call me Dean, Baby Girl,” leaning down so that only you could hear him, his warm breath fanned over the skin of your neck, and goose bumps raised all over your skin, “or you can call me Daddy, I’m okay with that too.”

You blushed furiously and covered your face with your hand, a deep embarrassment at the way your body seemed to be responding to this man standing next to you on the curb of the crowded street. Another booming laugh escaped Dean as he pulled you into a hug. People were apparently watching that you were unaware of , because the act seemed to have already started.

“I’m only teasing you sweetheart.I love to see you blush.Remember, impress me tonight, and this job is yours permanently, and I promise you, I will pay you so well, that you will never want for anything ever again.”

That was a promise you could get behind, so you straightened your skirt and took him in for the first time in the light of the foyer as you walked together, your arm over his own in a formal manner suitable to the occasion.

You hadn’t really looked at him until now, and man, he was a sight.

Danger reeled off of him.From the ridiculous expensive, black, custom fitted Brioni suit, and crisp white Ralph Lauren shirt, to his only God knows how expensive black shoes.

He was lethal, and he had no problem not hiding it.

His piercing green eyes held an air of mischief that excited you in a way you’d never experienced before. Not a hair out of place, except for the almost auburn stubble that matched his perfectly placed hair sprinkled across his chiseled jaw, and a smirk that could melt the panties off of every woman in the room.

He carried a presence about him that commanded attention, and you could tell by the faces of the people that were watching the two of you as you both checked in to the black tie event the hotel was hosting for the Winchester family, that he was the man that everyone loved to hate.

This was the craziest thing you had ever done in your life, and it would probably one way or another end badly, you knew that, but his was the most alive you had felt in your life, and you were determined you were going to enjoy the moment on Dean’s arm, and worry about the rest later.

Besides, what was life without a little adventure, and it was high time you had yours.

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the-odd-job · 3 years

Text

Close Your Eyes to This Disaster Chapter 3: Now I’m a Bird...

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Chose Not to Use, Rape/Non-Con Category: Other Fandom: Transformers G1 Relationships: Megatron/Sunstreaker, Megatron/Sideswipe, Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Characters: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Bluestreak, Tracks, Mirage, Ratchet, Ironhide, Megatron, Soundwave Additional Tags: Dubcon, Sticky, Abusive Relationships, Mind Games, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Canon-Typical Violence Words: 3593

( Previous )

Once their recharge cycles ended at the time they had assigned, they found Bluestreak already awake but still in their berth, watching as their systems onlined fully. He knew well enough to stay still and quiet during the process, lest their reflexes kick in effect before conscious thought caught up and resulted in injuries. He was a brave enough mech to risk that every time, but as most times, nothing bad happened. The twins merely woke up as they should have and turned their helms to meet Bluestreak’s optics.

He smiled at them. “’Charge well?”

“Ayup,” Sideswipe nodded, a smile already beginning to creep onto his face. He barely ever seemed to get rid of it. “What about you? How you feeling?”

“Good.” Bluestreak answered, seemingly honestly. “Thanks for letting me stay the night. I don’t want to be a bother but it’s always so helpful when I don’t need to be alone and I didn’t want to disturb Prowl because he already barely recharges enough despite Jazz always trying to get him to take proper care of himself– Oh! You have a patrol, do you need to go?”

“About now to get my morning stuff done, yeah,” Sideswipe said. They were somewhat glad he didn’t need to interrupt the talkative gunner when Bluestreak did it himself, this time.

But true to what they said, the twins pushed themselves to sitting, Bluestreak following suit. He was the first to get up, offering both of his servos to pull them up—one for Sideswipe, one for Sunstreaker. Both of the brothers took the smaller mech’s offer, and up they were. “What do you need to do before your patrol?” Bluestreak asked.

“Get in on Smoky’s bet for one,” Sideswipe told him, stretching his arms above his helm to some pleasant strain of stiff parts, and a few cracks. “Then hit the washracks so I’ll be all pretty and shiny in case we run into any Decepticons. Gotta look my best when kicking aft!”

Bluestreak laughed lightly and they all headed for the door, twins to see if Smokescreen wasn’t in the rec room, and Bluestreak to… Whatever he was going to do wherever. “Have a safe patrol without any ‘Cons showing up!” the gunner wished them in parting. Both of the twins gave him a wave of goodbye before they continued in the opposite direction down the offensively orange corridor.

Smokescreen was indeed in the rec room already, and Sideswipe wasn’t the only one who wanted to bet. His contribution was accepted with a wide grin from the Praxian and a, “You know you won’t win, right?”

Sideswipe just laughed. “Talk like that and a mech will start to think you don’t want anyone to bet. Nah, one of these days someone is gonna up Jazz. He’s not all-knowin’. I think.”

Smokescreen chuckled too. “Your loss, my profit.”

Their funds successfully reduced, the twins continued their way to the washracks. They weren’t the only occupants this time of the morning, but they ignored Tracks and Ironhide and merely claimed free showerheads for their own use.

“Don’t ya two have a patrol comin’ up?” Ironhide asked them, frowning in mild bewilderment at their somewhat unreasonable behavior.

Sideswipe had more giggles on offer. “Patrol’s no excuse to not be pretty!”

“…Riiiight,” was all Ironhide said to that, glancing from them to Tracks—likely with the thought that he was presently surrounded by some vain ass mecha and would find no understanding for his far more pragmatic approach to his looks. The old mech left soon after, clean but not particularly shiny. Sunstreaker shook his helm in disapproval before they focused back on the task at hand, resolutely ignoring Tracks as Tracks was ignoring them. Now maybe wasn’t the best time to get into a tussle. They wouldn’t have the time to fix themselves back up from all the scuffs and scratches that would result in.

Plating clean, they shined themselves up, finishing their work just in time for their damned patrol. Time to go undo everything they just did. Sigh.

They transformed at the Ark’s entrance and peeled off with speed Prowl would have disapproved of, but what was the point of following the ridiculous human rules when they weren’t humans? The inherently inferior organics may not have been able of safely driving at the speeds a Cybertronian could handle easily with their superior senses and reaction times, but that wasn’t exactly their problem, was it? They wouldn’t crash into anyone, so no harm done.

All that in mind, they barely slowed down when they reached the populated roads, weaving through the human traffic and earning themselves countless of blaring horns. It was quite aggravating, and more often than not Sunstreaker was returning the same sound with far more aggression. And the humans thought they knew what road rage looked like… Give him enough reason and he’d show them.

But it was a long patrol they were on and eventually it took them back to more remote areas where they didn’t really see any of the fleshbags. Things went from exciting to relaxing as they drifted around curves in the road with screeching tires, leaving black marks behind as they controlled their bodies just perfectly enough that they didn’t go shooting straight off the asphalt. Prowl would have still given them slag for it, but he wasn’t here to see and the tactician wasn’t prone to act without actual proof of misconduct.

Which he usually had, but not in this.

Sideswipe’s singing of some random Earth song was mostly drowned out by the rev and roar of their engines, but Sunstreaker still tuned in on that sound to enjoy it. If nothing else, Earth was relatively worry-free for low ranking soldiers like them, that didn’t have any too heavy responsibilities and mostly just needed to follow orders. Some might have considered the fact the war was still ongoing and they very much at frontlines of it quite stressful all on its own, but those were the kind of details that didn’t bother the twins all that much. War and battles gave them something to do and let them live according to their nature, and it wasn’t as if they feared pain and injuries—or death, even if the goal was to stay alive.

Speaking of staying alive, though… The ping on their scanners was entirely unexpected when patrols were often completely uneventful, but there it was and they couldn’t deny it when both of their frames registered. And not just that, but there were two pings once they looked closer.

And they could recognize them. The desire to not suffer a painful death had them hitting their brakes and coming to a halt to hesitate in peace, because Megatron was a mech even they weren’t good enough to take on—and Soundwave wasn’t that much less dangerous, in all honesty.

What the pit were they doing here, though? There was nothing here, as far as the twins knew. Besides, it was just Megatron and Soundwave—and possibly his symbiotes—and no one else, unless someone was masking their signature.

::Sideswipe to Ark.::

::Bumblebee listening. What’s up?::

::I’ve got Megatron and Soundwave on my scanners at these coordinates.::

There was barely a pause before Bumblebee was already redirecting them to Prowl.

::Fall back and do not engage,:: came the clearly spoken order. This was the Prime’s business and the twins were to do no more than turn their pretty afts around and return to the Ark before anyone got the idea to attack them. If they were close enough to the Decepticon leader and his Third to sense them, then Decepticons were certainly also aware of the twins’ presence. Going all stealthy and trying to figure out what they were doing here wasn’t much of an option, especially so because the twins weren’t particularly trained in or built for stealth to begin with.

Sideswipe pouted, but… They were outmatched, and possibly outnumbered too. Engaging would be little short of a suicide. For those reasons, ::Copy that,:: was all Sideswipe said and they indeed followed the SIC’s instruction, turned around, and drove back for someone more suitable for the task to take their place and maybe learn what had brought Megatron to the area.

—————————————

But then that incident repeated. The twins would be away from the Ark, either patrolling or just otherwise enjoying their free time, and three more times they came close enough to Megatron and Soundwave that they could sense them. Each time they contacted the Ark, and each time they followed the orders to leave without engaging the Decepticons. It became just too much to be a mere coincidence, especially when it happened to no one else, but the twins were as confused over it as the command was when they were questioned on if they knew any possible reason for the odd behavior.

It did become a cause for some extra caution on their side, because despite what things sometimes looked like and what some thought, they didn’t have a rampant death wish. Or really any level of death wish. They would rather continue living, and the chances were good they weren’t going to do that if they took on Megatron and Soundwave with no backup—especially because there were the symbiotes to take into consideration, too. They were exceptionally good at beating the odds, but in this instance the odds were a little too much against them for even their own comfort. Just what were the chances they’d manage to off Megatron and end the war?

Slim. So slim.

Despite their increased awareness of their surroundings whenever they were further from the Ark, though…

It was just a joyride to burn off some of their restless energy. Sparring and fragging were all well and good too, but sometimes you just wanted to feel the road beneath your tires and the wind whipping over your hood. Some strangely acting warlord wasn’t going to take this away from them, and there was nothing in their scanners or other sensors any step of the way. They knew Teletraan was monitoring the situation as well, trying to compile enough data for Prowl to figure out what the rhyme and reason to Megatron’s behavior was when the only connecting element seemed to be the twins’ presence.

So they were pretty sure they were safe in the moment. That was, up until they took a sharp turn out of the forest to arrive to flat fields, and there he was in all of his towering glory, silver plating glinting in the bright sunlight.

The brothers transformed at once, skidding into a stop on their pedes. It didn’t take a genius to realize Megatron had opted to mask his signature this time around when he hadn’t done it the previous times.

For whatever reason.

And Soundwave was there too, of course, and when they tried to contact the Ark to let them know there was a bit of a situation happening, they found they were entirely blocked, likely by the telepath.

Sunstreaker growled, his optics snapping from the blue mech to Megatron, meeting the red gaze boring into him. Megatron’s focus was beyond intense in a way that Sunstreaker had certainly never experienced before courtesy of the tyrant, having not even been in his proximity before their unfortunate Earth landing.

And then Megatron moved. Sunstreaker jerked out of the way, Sideswipe into the opposite direction only to be accosted by Soundwave, but Megatron spun in place with surprising grace and then he was already an arm’s reach away from the golden twin—a bit closer than Sunstreaker would have liked him.

Well, slag that. With a rev of his engine Sunstreaker went on the offensive because playing some fragging game of evasion just wasn’t his style. He pulled his thermal sword from his subspace, which predictably had Megatron respond by extending the sword from his arm. What was more surprising was the fact Sunstreaker got the first attack in, as if Megatron was almost waiting on him.

But that aside, things progressed as expected—for a while. Megatron matched the harmful intent of Sunstreaker’s attacks and they both gained some injuries because dammit, Sunstreaker was good enough to provide even some opposition despite Megatron’s own power.

But it was his own skill and experience that, before long, alerted him to something being a bit off. How Megatron aimed his attacks… He had the opportunities to try for serious injuries, the kinds that would have left Sunstreaker open to the very real possibility of death were they successful, and that was what he would have expected the warlord would do.

Yet, he didn’t. Oh, Megatron was out to injure him, there was no doubt about that, but his aim seemed to be to cripple him just enough that Sunstreaker couldn’t have fought back anymore, instead of going for the kill directly.

It was a valid strategy, but one that seemed rather unnecessary right now. There was no doubt Megatron was the better fighter of them. Sunstreaker could hold his own, but only so for so long. Even now it was him that had more injuries on him, although none of them severe, and it was rather obvious he was the one who had to work harder to avoid greater damage.

He was confused, and Sideswipe’s situation didn’t clear matters any, because it looked a hell of a lot like Soundwave’s aim was the same: put him out of the fight, but not kill. Soundwave wasn’t a warrior of Megatron’s caliber so Sideswipe was having a bit more success on his end, but not so much he could have helped attack Megatron with Sunstreaker.

But out to kill or not, the brothers didn’t exactly fancy losing either. Who knew what Megatron had in store for them in that event—that, unfortunately, looked a bit inevitable as things stood. They were outmatched, simple as that.

Soon, though, not outnumbered. The roar of two familiar engines heralded the unusually welcome arrival of backup moments before Tracks and Mirage revved onto the scene from the forest. Ugh, saved by Tracks… But beggars couldn’t be choosers. Rather that than learning what exactly Megatron’s intent for them was, when there was no fucking way it was anything good.

As soon as they’d transformed, Mirage and Tracks already had weapons in hand, ready to assist, and that was where things deviated from what they would have expected, again. Instead of trying to slag the lot of them like Megatron very well may have been able to do, he… Retreated. As did Soundwave.

As in, they left the scene entirely. Both transformed, Megatron into a jet around Soundwave’s small boombox mode–

And then he was gone. Sunstreaker couldn’t do more than stare after the quickly disappearing triplechanger, befuddled.

“Are you alright?” Mirage asked, stepping up to him. Sunstreaker glanced at the spy, took stock of his damage reports, then nodded.

“Nothing major,” he grunted, turning back to the now rather destroyed road. Tracks was standing a few paces away with his arms crossed over his chassis, looking a little too smug. “Shove it,” Sunstreaker growled at him, jabbing a digit in his direction. “You try fighting that unmaker.”

Tracks only shrugged, not overtly impressed.

“How did you know to come? We couldn’t contact anyone,” Sideswipe asked, walking to the rest of them. Sunstreaker turned his attention back to Mirage at that, too.

“You fell off the radar entirely,” was the answer they were given. “We were redirected from our patrol to see why.”

“Good timing,” Sunstreaker conceded, earning a small smile from Mirage.

“I can still transform,” Sideswipe spoke up, inspecting his limbs. A little worse for wear, but still in one piece. “And probably drive too.”

Sunstreaker nodded that that held true for him as well and Mirage returned the gesture at the both of them. “If you don’t need Skyfire, we can drive back. We were given permission to not finish our patrol.”

They were getting an escort now, too?

Ugh.

———————————————

Again the command had so fragging many questions for them, most of which the twins had no answers for. No one had the answers. It was becoming clear Megatron was targeting them specifically and changing his methods to succeed in cornering them, but why?

No one had any good suggestions, especially after that day’s show. If it wasn’t to kill the twins and strip the Autobots of two of their best frontliners, then what the pit was it all for?

“I heard what happened,” Bluestreak said as a way of announcing himself, seconds before he sat down opposite from the twins at the rec room table they had claimed. “It’s really, really weird… Are you worried at all? It’s Megatron and he’s always bad news, and I’m worried ‘cause I don’t want anything to happen to you, you know?”

He was going to say something more too, but Sideswipe beat him to it before their friend could get going all proper and make it all the harder to get a word in. “Gotta admit it’s a little… Disconcerting?” his brother said, then leaned back in his seat and huffed, “But slag me if he’s gonna get to me.”

They had no idea how to take care of the whole situation, but their desire to not let Megatron do whatever the pit he wanted with them was very, very real. One way or another, they would find a solution, or pit, maybe Megatron would just get it out of his system and leave them alone despite taking such a sudden interest in them the moment they ended up on the same battlefields.

Bluestreak perhaps had a bit too much trust in them and their abilities, because he seemed satisfied with that answer—as if it really was as simple of a matter as ‘I don’t wanna’. The change in topic that followed when Bluestreak moved onto other subjects was at least welcome, and they spent another two hours listening to the gunner talk, sometimes squeezing in a comment of their own. Bluestreak was the one who excused himself first, having the late shift in monitor duty—he made a face when they told them that much and Sideswipe laughed—and the brothers left with him to return to their quarters. It was undeniably late.

But as it happened, Ratchet and Ironhide were standing right outside Ironhide’s door on the twins’ path, and completely heedless to the conversation he was interrupting, Sideswipe bounced right on over and wrapped his arms around the both of them. He got matching growls from the two old timers, and true to form, ignored that too. He still pulled back when Ironhide firmly patted his waist, grinning at the medic and the veteran warrior.

“So. Megatron?” Ironhide asked gruffly, crossing his arms as soon as he had enough room to do so and glaring at the brothers.

Those were the type of glares that meant Ironhide was worried, not that they hadn’t already known as much. Ratchet was too, after the earful and suspicious shortage of wrenches they had gotten during their repairs. The medic’s scowl also spoke of his concern.

“Sure is,” Sideswipe said chipperly, rocking back on his heels.

“Yer not worried over the whole… Thing?”

“I mean…” What to say, what to say. The two would just worry twice as hard if the twins admitted to harboring their own concerns, because the twins weren’t really smart enough to worry about most things—if they did, something had to be wrong. So, Sideswipe just shrugged after their pause of quick thought. “Not gonna gain anything by worrying over it.” That wasn’t a lie.

“You better be careful,” Ratchet growled at them. “I don’t want you in my medbay again because of this.”

“Yer damn bad at the fear business, and I ain’t saying you shouldn’t be, but I’d suggest still usin’ yer heads some,” Ironhide said. “You ain’t a match to him and you both know it.”

Sideswipe tilted his helm back and cast his optics to the ceiling with an exaggerated sigh. “Thanks for the lecture, dad. Totally already forgot how dangerous ol’ Megs is.”

Ironhide grunted, opened his mouth to say something–

And like quicksilver Sideswipe changed his own mood and demeanor to something salacious. He slithered back up to the older red mech, brushing his servo along Ironhide’s low back with that kind of grin. “Wanna come to my quarters an’ take my mind off things a little?”

“Oh for frag’s sake–“ the veteran started in a huff, but Sideswipe interrupted him right away.

“Exactly. ‘Less you’re busy?”

His brother’s optics shifted to Ratchet as well, but the medic put his hands up. “Don’t look at me, I’m not joining this time.”

Sunstreaker snorted. “Your loss.”

“Absolutely,” Ratchet deadpanned at him, but Ironhide took the turn to slip his servo to Sideswipe’s aft. The red twin squeaked when he gave it a squeeze.

“Alright, you have my interest,” Ironhide confirmed his intent and Sideswipe’s grin widened all the more.

“Sweet~ Come on, the night’s getting as old as you. No time like the present!” After a caress across Ironhide’s codpiece, Sideswipe skipped down the hall with such a bouncy step.

Ironhide rolled his optics after him with a, “Brat,” but nevertheless followed, as did Sunstreaker.

“Now’s your chance to frag that out of him,” Sunstreaker smirked.

“Damn well will, too,” Ironhide promised, earning himself a laugh from the golden twin.

Right along with Sideswipe’s hollered, “I heard that!”

( Next )

#transformers #maccadam #maccadams #sunstreaker #sideswipe #ratchet #megatron #soundwave #ironhide #bluestreak #tracks #mirage #fic #2021 #disaster

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aquarianlights · 3 years

Text

I am in a serious financial bind. 😥 If anyone is in a position to listen & help or signal boost, pls keep reading...

This is from my apartment complex. I am in low-income housing. I called them & sent them proof I could pay on the 23rd. I told them I could (just barely) put 100 down now & they said that was too little.

They said they would file for eviction on the 16th, which adds $150 to my rent. They will cancel the court date and eviction on the 23rd when I pay.

But that doesn't cancel the $150 filing fee.

Idk where that $150 would come from. Idky they think it's fair that someone who cannot pay should be forced to pay even more??? That makes no sense. I can only just barely afford my rent every month as is.

These are from my energy company. I apparently owe them over $600. I genuinely do not know how this happened. We were on the phone for a very long time trying to figure it out & I was in tears for the latter portion of it because I swear I paid.

I usually keep record of my payments via taking a picture of my receipt since they are electronic, but my dog chewed up my phone (which I have pics of if need be for evidence) and broke it, so I had to get a replacement phone sent to me from the insurance company & nothing transferred from the old phone, so all my pics were wiped.

I found no record in my emails, either.

The meds I am taking to try to go into remission and the autoimmune disease itself both cause brain fog and issues with time warping, so it is possible maybe I skipped a month or something, but I highly doubt I would have skipped up to 600+ dollars worth of payments.

I have tons of electronic and hard copy calendars & they are all synced and constantly updated so that I know when payments are due. I also have text and email reminders sent to me, but I could find no reminders in my email for MONTHS now until they were telling me they were going to shut my power off if I didn't pay this. Idk why I was not sent reminders for months???

In the end, I agreed to set up a payment plan. Paying, like... 50-60ish on top of whatever my electric bill is every month for 12 months. It was the lowest they could go.

I can barely afford my electric bill as it is, so idk how I will be able to do this? They did give me a list of charities in my area so I will be using what little energy I have to call around & see if any of them would be willing to help me pay this. Idk how those work (they're mostly churches???), so I'm just gonna try & see what happens. 🤔

On top of all that, I *think* this is telling me my Medicaid has been cancelled but I'm not 100% sure?????

I'm going through treatment for a very serious, disabling problem that should last ~1 year and rn Medicaid is picking up what my Medicare doesn't cover and some of my doctors/specialists and treatments are medicaid only.

If I lose this, I'm basically done.

I know they'll do backpay if I get it back, but Idk if I *will* get it back. I'll be trying to get it back, but in the meantime, I guess I'll just have to pay out of pocket, idk??? Which I do not have.

I have lost almost ALL autonomy due to this autoimmune disease, which (in a very simplified form) is basically my immune cells "eating" my muscle tissue. I can barely get out of bed. Treatment should put me in remission & give me my life back. I am seeing a rheumatologist, neurologist, dermatologist, PCP, physical therapist, psychiatrist, psychologist, and going to a holistic pain treatment center that does a different kind of physical therapy to bring down pain levels (which I was put into that program by my rheum). All of these are in relation to & necessary for my disease. I am going through TONS of testing almost weekly now & trying out treatments like IVIG and chemo where I am in the hospital hooked up to an IV for 4-6+ hrs of that day and the cost of those things without Medicaid picking up what Medicare doesn't cover is astronomical. I have to sign waivers every time I get my blood drawn (which is almost weekly now), do tests, and do treatments saying I will pay if Medicaid does not pick up the extra.

I already have crippling medical debt; I don't need more. I'm scared they won't let me do any more tests or treatments if they see I am just letting it all go to collections & am not paying.

This could mean the difference between having a life worth living (to me) where I am happy & thriving & autonomous or being bed-bound & living a life of just existing from day to day & miserable & in pain & suffering & unable to do anything for myself. This is literally life and death for me because I wouldn't be able to handle continuing to live in the latter scenario. I cannot handle living like I am now. Knowing my treatments are progressing is what keeps me going. Knowing I can go into remission is what keeps me going. Knowing my future is one completely different from now is what keeps me going. But if I cannot have that and am destined to live in this current state, it's just not worth it. I don't know a person alive who would want to live like this.

Finally, my anger noodle needs to get to the vet for MULTIPLE things. Nothing is, like... life threatening or super immediate like his cancer was last year, but they're things that need to be addressed in terms of preventative care & to make sure he isn't in pain.

He needs his trachea checked, possibly x-rays for that, maybe more...

He needs some medication updates, needs a physical, needs a full groom & nail clip under anesthesia (for those who are not familiar with Echo, he has extreme fear-based aggression & usually gets this done under anesthesia; since I worked with him so much, he had his first non-anesthesia nail clip at the beginning of quarantine, but he has gotten worse during quarantine & with my muscle eating disease, I can no longer restrain him & don't have the physical strength to run a brush through his thicker fur as his winter coat is in, so I can no longer groom certain areas of him at home, so his tummy & back legs are matted & I fear he may need to be shaved... which breaks my heart since you don't shave double coat dogs unless medically necessary.), he needs a full physical, & needs to be checked over for MCT's.

He may also need a fecal test or something else, as he has been having odd bowel movements. 😥 His tummy has been upset lately.

I have been crying myself to sleep every single night & often during the day because I cannot get him to the vet. No, it isn't urgent or life threatening. But he is reverse sneezing more than normal & I worry about tracheal collapse, which is a common small dog thing & even MORE common in pomeranians specifically. Every time he has a fit, I think "Oh god, this is it. This is the time I'm gonna have to rush him to the e-vet & get slammed with a huge bill & he is not gonna be okay..."

It breaks my heart to see his legs & belly matted. He is horrible about letting me groom him coz of his aggression so he only gets a full grooms at the vet, but I do short grooming sessions at home with him nightly. Takes about 2 hours just to do the majority of one side of him (not even all of it; just most) coz he needs breaks & lots of praise every few strokes or he will tear me to shreds & hurt himself snapping on the undercoat rake. 😥

But now that my autoimmune disease has atrophied my muscles to the point holding up my phone without something to prop it up feels like I am lifting weights & tires my arms out with a lactic acid burn & pain, I can no longer groom him with the patience he needs & can only groom in 20 minute intervals at the VERY longest. By the time I have gotten one leg done during the week, his entire other side is matted. 😞 Matting on dogs---especially double coat dogs---hurts them. It's like if someone were to wrap your hair around their fingers & then pull it taut. It's a constant pulling pressure on their skin... it's painful & irritates the epidermis. I feel miserable feeling the matting on his back legs & tummy & now feeling the mats beginning to form on the rest of him. He hates me working them out, even with the detangling spray. I know it must hurt so much...

So he may need to be shaved at this point & that will destroy me. I feel sick thinking about it. But anything to get him out of pain. Maybe it is what's best for him while I go through this year of treatment & get my muscles back. But in order to do that, I need to get him to the vet.

The stress of not being able to get him to a vet is tearing me apart & literally making me physically ill.

He is my world. My everything. My #1. My heart dog. My priority in life. My entire universe revolves around him. I would do anything for him. Not a single person, animal, thing, etc, comes before him. It is KILLING me that I cannot provide proper care for him right now. I always always always make sure to sacrifice for him if need be & his things ALWAYS come first, even if it means I'm not eating or not paying bills or whatever. As long as he is taken care of & his needs & wants are met, nothing else matters to me. And right now........ I feel he is suffering because of my finances & the fact my treatment with building my muscles up is not going fast enough.

I cannot control the latter one, but the first one is something I can at least ask for help for. So that is what I am doing.

If anyone is in a place to help, these are my venmo & cashapp codes. I also have paypal.

💙 Venmo: @kqroswell

💚 Cashapp: $kqroswell

💜 Paypal: @kqroswell or [email protected]

If there is another form of payment you're thinking of, lemme know. I also have fb pay activated if you have me on FB (Killian Q Roswell).

Thank you to everyone who read through this & anyone who can help or reblog this. 💖

Sincerely,

Your v scared, struggling transman who really wants his bills/rent paid & his dog to go to the vet,

Killian 💞

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kim-seungmine · 4 years

Text

dream the night away

title: dream the night away

characters: (fem) reader x hwang hyunjin of stray kids

genre: slice-of-life, romance, angst, best friends to lovers au, idol au, idol!hyunjin, hyunjin centric, inspired by 3racha’s cloud 9 but not really?

warnings: minor character death, sometimes heavy, slow burn (aka i wanted it to be but i wasn’t patient enough), i tried to proofread, i gave up trying to format text convo on tumblr, i think they kiss a lot.

word count: 11.6k i’m so sorry

synopsis: one night, hyunjin wonders how he long can stay floating on cloud 9 before he loses his balance and falls all the way down to the pits of hell. After that, nothing feels right.

disclaimer: this is idol!hyunjin so i just wanna say that this is not how hyunjin is in real life and im not trying to convince you that he feels the things in the story. some parts are inspired by the things they’ve said but everything that happens here is pure fiction... which actually goes without saying since this is a fanfic, but i just feel the need to say it. for my personal long ass author’s note, you can read it below.

Hyunjin is met with darkness when he steps into the dorm. It used to be more packed, it used to be messier, and it used to be really loud. Now he only shares the dorm with the 00z who are surprisingly quiet if you think about it. Seungmin sleeps early, Felix has his headphones stuck to his ears and plays games until the sun rises, and Jisung is snugged somewhere watching movies. On busier days, Seungmin and Felix are at the company for lessons and Jisung spends the night at the studio with Chan and Changbin. Hyunjin, meanwhile, usually has some photoshoots.

However, tonight feels unnaturally quiet, especially since Hyunjin has just won his first Bonsang as a solo artist. He switches the lights on, and his friends are soundlessly huddled together by the fridge, Jisung holding a small cake.

“Surprise!” Seungmin exclaims rather flatly as Hyunjin drops to the floor out of shock, shouting profanities. Felix proceeds to grab some candles from the kitchen counter and lights them up. “Come on, blow the candles."

Hyunjin lets out an amused sigh, rising to his feet before blowing all the candles out. “Please tell me these aren’t those candles that stay lit n—what the hell.”

He continues blowing, his friends giggling while Seungmin groans. “Why did you have to curse? I was about to post that on Instagram Story!”

“Why are we doing this anyways? We’re not 18 anymore,” Hyunjin protests half-heartedly. He can’t really remember the last time they gave each other a proper surprise. It feels like ages ago. Jisung scoffs, searching for a knife inside one of the kitchen drawers. Slicing the cake, he retorts, “Your dramatic ass loves surprises, stop denying it.”

“Anyone has anything to do tonight? The hyungs want to come over,” Felix informs while typing on his phone. Hyunjin’s vibrates after a few seconds; everyone on the Stray Kids group chat must be congratulating him.

Seungmin opens the chat, frowning. “Where’s Jeongin?”

“He hasn’t been replying since hours ago. That brat probably fell asleep. Just ask his bro if he’s home,” Hyunjin suggests, about to reply to Chan’s message when another message pops up.

y/n: sorry i couldnt watch the show

y/n: but i saw the news! congratulations!!

y/n: so proud of you, as always!

Hyunjin’s eyes light up at your messages. It’s been months since he saw you; he’s been busy with his solo debut and you’ve been busy with school. When both of you were children, you often pictured how life would be. Hyunjin would be a famous soccer player for Manchester United and the captain of South Korea national team. You would be studying to become a doctor.

He finds it funny that you’re doing the exact same thing while he’s doing something he never even imagined before. Hyunjin is always amazed at how well you planned your whole life and executed every single plan, albeit not always instantly.

After all these years, though, he dares to say that both of you turned out okay. Amazing, even.

“Order whatever you want. I’m eating outside but I’ll be back soon,” Hyunjin tells his friends, bombarding you with messages before you turn your phone off, the thing you always do when you’re about to cram.

Seungmin arches an eyebrow. “Y/N?”

“Yeah. I asked whether she wants to eat gopchang with me.”

“You should really be careful.”

“Everyone knows we’re best friends. No one will make a weird rumor or anything.”

Jisung clicks his tongue. “Well, do you?”

Whenever someone talks about you, it always leads to this very conversation. Hyunjin decides to let Jisung’s question (sarcasm) hang in the air, but he knows the answer. Yes, he knows you and him are just best friends. Does he like it that way?

Hyunjin knows the answer to that too. He only pretends that he doesn’t.

You’re already slurping your soup when Hyunjin says hi to the restaurant owners, Mr and Mrs. Jang. “Oh Hyunjinnie, I just watched you on TV. You won something, right?” he asks. His wife ushers him to sit down, putting extra servings of kimchi on the table.

“Why didn’t I get extra kimchi?” You pout, shooting a jealous glare at Hyunjin who’s busy explaining what a Bonsang is to the owners.

“You did a good job, then,” Mrs. Jang coos. “You don’t need to pay today. It’s on us!”

You quickly put your spoon down. “What about me? I barely sleep thesedays, and I’m not as rich as Hyunjin!”

“Aigoo, you started eating before your friend came then demand for free food. You’re lucky we love you as much as we love Hyunjin.”

The couple laugh at your reaction, jokingly scolding you for being whinier than Hyunjin when it used to be the other way around. He smiles, remembering all the times he forced you to eat his eggplants for him and the times when he begged you to help him study because he needed to beat all of his friends.

“Eat,” you scowl. “You only have half an hour to brag. I have a night shift.”

Out of the times you’re being petty towards him, you were only seriously petty once: when he beat your English score in ninth grade although you were the one teaching him. He had to bribe you with a week’s worth of Haribo jellies before you stopped ignoring him.

Hyunjin giggles. “When’s your exam? Tomorrow?”

“Next week,” you whine. “But I have so many things to do! And I think someone stole my notes, I can’t seem to find them anywhere. Do you even understand half the pain I’m going through right now? All I need is one solid hour of sleep.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

You widen your eyes, eyeing Hyunjin from head to toe. “Sometimes I forget you’re Stray Kids’ Hyunjin.”

He pretends to stab himself on the chest. “That h-hurts,” he fake-groans. “Then who do you think I am?”

“My neighbor,” you answer. “—who doesn’t even live at home anymore.”

“To be fair, you’re practically holed in hospital now.”

“Yeah but I go home every two weeks? You go home twice a year.”

“Excuse me?! I went home on your birthday… in the middle of a tour! I could’ve been sleeping or practicing, but I came home!”

He always “argues” with you until both of you are out of breath, clutching your chests because it somehow feels hilarious. You drink the last few drops of the soup right from your bowl, setting it back on the table and empty your glass in one go.

“I don’t have enough energy for this,” you sigh dreamily, prepping your head on your arm. “Tell me about everything. Your first Bonsang.”

Hyunjin can still hear his fans’ voices chanting his name and cheering for him as he delivered his speech while sobbing (this is what he hates from solo promotions, nobody else is there to stop him from crying or taking over the mic from him so he could calm himself down). He remembers every single word he said and the proud faces of his fellow artists. The thrill, the triumph, the satisfaction, the love… it’s making him emotional all over again.

He grabs a tissue to blow his nose. “I was surprised when the company said that I was invited. Our group hasn’t made a comeback this year, and although my song did chart quite well, I never expected they would even invite me.”

“They gave me a 5-minute stage! I was so happy, I sent you my rehearsal videos, right?”

You nod, imitating one of the moves in his dance break.

“Everything was even more amazing on stage, with Stays watching me. I think I was possessed during the performance… I was goddamn nervous though.”

“Yeah, I watched it on the way here. You kept licking your lip, I don’t care if your fans think that’s hot. To me you’re just a nervous mess…”

Hyunjin has started to pout when you add, “… who did a very great job nevertheless! It’s just that I’ve known you so long. You can’t hide anything from me.”

He notices how you’re holding your breath, waiting for him to respond. After years, Hyunjin thought he would take negative comments much less seriously, but apparently it didn’t become easier. It became harder, so hard that he had to take a 3-month hiatus last year.

With you, everything is different. You can tell him that he sucks big time and he’ll take it seriously, but he never gets offended. There are a lot of times when people treat him like he’s made of glass (or a snowflake, Seungmin once said), but you treat him the way you’ve always treated him and he loves it. None of his other friends understands, but your honesty is priceless. It’s what keeps him going; he knows you’ll never cherish him less no matter what you say about the way he dances and raps, or the way he looks and behaves. And he’s sure that his honesty also means the world to you. You are each other’s toughest critic, but it will never change anything.

“Hyunjin.” You place your hand over his, eyes wide. “I’m sorry. It just slipped out of my mouth.”

He chuckles, flipping his palm to squeeze your hand. “You idiot. You just stated the facts.”

You squeeze his hand back before pulling away. “I’m looking at Hwang Hyunjin of Stray Kids who sold over 100.000 copies of his first solo album, who won Bonsang for the first time, who gets worshiped by everyone he locks eyes with—except for me of course. I’m a very proud friend.”

“Stop it.” Hyunjin rolls his eyes, but unable to hide his smile once he sees you grinning like a happy child. “How much time do we have left?”

You glance at your phone, sighing when a reminder for you to study pops up. “5 minutes. I have to go back to the hospital soon.”

“Can you even study during your shift?”

“I have to,” you mumble. “Anyways, thanks for dragging me out. I did miss you after all.”

“I missed you too,” Hyunjin says, probably too quick for his own good but he doesn’t regret it.

“I’ll be going now.” You stretch your limbs, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Any last words before I go to war?”

“I should be the one asking you that.”

“Oh, right.”

Chan is the only one awake by the time Hyunjin gets back home. He huffs in regret, knowing that the hyungs decided to stay over to celebrate his Bonsang win. The leader greets him with a bear hug, carefully avoiding Felix and Minho who are fast asleep on the floor. “We’re so happy for you!” he whisper-yells. “How was Y/N?”

Hyunjin returns his hug with an even tighter one. “Thanks hyung. You composed the song after all! And sorry I came back too late.”

Chan shakes his head. “Nah, it’s fine. At some point we forgot why we were here and just started playing mafia.”

“Y/N is fine, anyways, just tired.”

“She’s always tired, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. It turns out that medical students are probably more tired than us.”

Hyunjin leads Chan to his bedroom. Each of the 00z has their own bedroom now. It’s much more convenient and they can arrange their stuff however they want to (they avoid entering Jisung’s room as much as possible), but Hyunjin misses the mess at times. The old dorm was cramped, either too hot or too cold, and way too noisy, but it was home for quite a long time.

Chan seems to be having the same thought. “We miss you kiddos sometimes,” he laughs. “But we fixed that sliding door. It closes properly now.”

“As long as Changbin hyung keeps opening it with too much force it will be broken again in no time. Trust me.”

Both of them are lying on Hyunjin’s king size bed, staring at the sideboard table he dedicates for his music show—and now, music award—trophies. “The kids don’t really say it but they’re all so proud of you. I’m proud of you. I raised you well, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you kinda did.”

“Kinda?!”

“I’m joking.” Hyunjin scrunches his nose. “You raised all of us. We raised Jeongin. And we raised each other.”

“3racha are almost finished choosing the final songs, you have 2 weeks to relax then we’ll start production right away. Our next tour won’t start until May, so we have plenty of time to prepare everything.”

“Ohhhhh I can feel my bones breaking already. We’re getting old,” Hyunjin whines.

Chan pats his thighs, cracking his knuckles before jumping out of bed. “You’re getting old,” he teases.

“I’m glad, though. Everything finally works out the way we wanted to. I guess we can say that we’re doing well now, right?”

Chan doesn’t wait for Hyunjin to answer and leaves the room right away. The latter ponders the rhetorical question for a while, recalling the goals they have reached for the past few years. Entering the Melon chart (and staying on Top 20 for a week), having one of the most successful world tour, winning prestigious awards at prestigious music awards, 3racha getting acknowledged as the industry’s top composers, 00z winning music shows for their unit debut last year, Jeongin getting drama roles, and last but not least, Hyunjin’s successful solo debut.

Feeling nostalgic, he scrolls through his phone, looking at old photos and silly videos. Looking at the lyrics he wrote on his note app. Then he goes through @realstraykids’ posts on Instagram, from when Jeongin still had braces until tonight. The latest selcas on his own official account are still getting likes, the fans showering him with praises.

Hyunjin has ticked off everything from his wish list. He has reached every goal he set a few years ago. They are doing well. He’s doing well.

He looks at his surroundings, immersing himself in the space and peace of his room that he once craved desperately. He’s supposed to be at peace now, but his mind won’t stop buzzing, asking himself what to do next.

For the very first time, Hyunjin realizes that he’s now floating on Cloud 9. Everything is perfect, he’s living his dream life. But at the back of his head, he can hear the clock ticking, ready to push him over the edge the moment he loses his balance, watching him fall all the way to the pits of hell.

Everything is perfect, but why does his heart feel so empty?

Hyunjin’s brows furrow as he tries to catch some comments the fans are posting. When he was a rookie he couldn’t get used to how fast the comments come in, and it’s something that doesn’t quite change. Probably he got used to it at some point, but they kept gaining fans that the comment section is always extremely active.

“Hyunjin oppa,” he pronounces the words slowly. ”Spo-spoiler please!”

He lifts his head to give the viewers a secretive smile. “Nope.” He wiggles his forefinger. “You have to wait for the teasers!”

“Ohhh the comments! You guys are so excited I can’t keep up!”

More comments flood in, and Hyunjin has to press his phone screen in order to read the one comment he’s been trying to read. “Recommend me a song, please!”

“Uhhh—” He takes some time to think of the songs he’s been listening to, tapping his fingers against the surface of the table while the comments keep coming in, but this time he spots words that stab him right on his gut. With trembling hands, he lifts his phone, clicking the report button as subtle as possible. His vision grows blurry as he reports every single comment that has the word “fuck you”, “die” or “talentless” in it.

The pause has become too long and too awkward, so he stops himself from reporting more and stares at the lens. “Ah, song recommendation!” he exclaims. “I have quite a lot but thesedays I’ve been listening to 00z songs a lot. We had so much fun promoting together.”

Hyunjin feels his other phone vibrating in his pocket, probably his mother checking in. It gives him a boost of energy, and he tells his fans he’ll stay with them for 10 more minutes. “When we’re just talking like this, I’m always reminded that we’ve come so far,” Hyunjin says, a smile on his face. “It feels good to know that all of you are making time for us, for me, after your busy day. And no, I’m not sleepy. Don’t worry, everyone!”

He reads some more comments, mostly cheesy pickup lines to cheer himself up as his brain is still trying to get all the hurtful words out of his system. “Ah, I think I have to go now,” Hyunjin announces lowly. “I have to go back to practice, if not Chan hyung will barge in and drag me back to the practice room.”

“What? You want me to get scolded by Chan hyung? Why are you so mean?!”

Hyunjin ends up staying for 20 more minutes before finally ending the broadcast. Conversation with his fans is something he values a lot; it gives him strength and makes him laugh. It makes him feel loved and he wants his fans to feel the same.

But it’s equally tiring. He has to brace himself for some less-than-nice comments, sometimes they are way too severe for him to handle that the company sues all the commenters. You’ve told him over and over again that those people aren’t his fans.

Everything could’ve been worse. Hyunjin still considers himself very lucky that he has much more fans than haters. Still, he often imagines how it will feel if he has no hater at all, since he does have some friends who seem to only hear pretty words.

Hyunjin stays inside the room for a few more minutes, replying to Seungmin’s messages and assures him that he’ll be back soon. He idly plays one of their songs he hasn’t heard for years, the song that was always included in their setlist before being replaced by some other songs. Hyunjin initially thought he wouldn’t need that song anymore, but tonight, he needs it. Maybe he needs it more now than before.

After making a mental note to ask the other boys to add the song back to the concert’s setlist, Hyunjin leaves, cursing himself for taking too much time to regain his composure.

Should I stop or not? Should I give up or not?

“Hwang Hyunjin, stop coming into my room without my permission! You literally trespassed into someone else’s property!”

Hyunjin groans into his pillow, instantly regretting his decision to pick up your call at midnight. “I didn’t!”

“Don’t lie to me. You took Gureum with you!”

He takes a quick glance at the rabbit plushie he placed on top of his pillow. Last night, he did go home because Kkami (everyone calls him old man now) got a little sick. “I miiiiight have made a quick detour next door when I was about to leave.”

“You’re pathetic. You got soooooo many plushies and toys and cute headbands from fansigns and you stole my Gureum.”

“Stop guilt tripping me! I missed Gureum, okay? Why didn’t you take him to your dorm?”

Hyunjin senses your hesitation as you clear your throat. “Well, sometimes seeing Gureum only makes me miss everyone more, so I just left him at home.”

Now he feels guilty. Your parents are currently staying overseas to take care of your sick little sister. He pictures you coming to an empty home every two weeks, exhausted and not having anyone to welcome you.

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Our superstar isn’t busy?”

“I am, but I’m willing to sacrifice my precious time for my best friend.”

You scoff over the phone, but telling him to hurry up before ending the call. Hyunjin packs his clothes and toiletries, along with Gureum—his birthday present for your 11th birthday. You almost never sleep without it, yet the plushie still looks brand new.

Unable to hide his smitten smile, Hyunjin grabs his keys.

The apartment complex where Hyunjin lives has changed a lot over the years. The soccer field he used to play at is now a playground. The little bookstore you loved so much is now a bakery. Now there’s a big shopping mall right across the building. After saving up for a while, Hyunjin asked his parents whether they wanted to move to a bigger place. He kind of hoped that they wouldn’t want it because he wanted to stay close to you (although coming home is a real challenge for him). Luckily, his parents said no.

He enters your door password leisurely, recalling the time when your parents told him to take care of you.

So far, you’ve been the one taking care of him.

Hyunjin heads straight to your bedroom, opening the door and sees you curling on your bed. The mattress he sleeps on whenever he stays over is already laid on the floor.

“Gureum!” you yell when he throws the squishy rabbit to you. Hyunjin drops his bag and settles himself on the mattress, staring up at you.

“How’s your sis?”

You scoot towards the end of the bed, showing him a photo on your phone. Your sister is smiling; she looks much better than before, but still very pale and thin. “I haven’t called her,” Hyunjin admits. “But she got the albums I sent to her. Sent the ones signed by the others too. That kid loves Jisung, do you know that?”

“I got her into Jisung.”

He sits up, looking almost offended. “Your bias is Han Jisung?”

“This world doesn’t revolve around you, superstar.” You flash him a cheeky grin. “I wanted to ask you to let me go to the backstage again last tour, but I restrained myself. As your kind best friend, I shouldn’t abuse my privilege.”

“You know that he never cleans his room, right?”

You hum, “Nobody’s perfect, Jinnie.”

“Oh come on!” Hyunjin protests. “If it’s Jeongin I understand although he also never cleans his room. But Jisung? And you’re calling yourself my best friend!”

“He’s funny!” you argue. ”He has a nice voice—it’s really sexy when he raps, he dances well, he wrote all my favorite Stray Kids songs, and he actually had the balls to fight you. A real champ.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, making a gesture to snatch Gureum away from you. “And at the end of the day, you love him,” you add. “He makes you laugh too.”

Well, it’s a fact he can’t refute. You ask, “Do you think I should hit on him or something? Will people call me out? Does he have someone?”

“We are not having this conversation Y/N. I don’t care if both of you are my best friends, you’re not dating Han Jisung. What happened to that ‘hot senior’ Jung Jaehyun? The last time we called, you were so in love with him.”

The mention of Jaehyun’s name causes you to slump into your bed, covering yourself with your thick blanket. “I sort of blew it up,” you mumble. “He asked me on a real date and I said no.”

You seem to hit realization that’s way too late, and now you’re hollering, “I said no to Jung Jaehyun! Oh my God Hyunjin… I’m such an idiot!”

Hyunjin can’t contain his giggles. Relief washes over him; you and Jaehyun seemed rather serious and while he wished you well, the thought of you being with someone else always pains him. He knows he’s not allowed to feel that way just because you’re best friends.

Most of the times, he can’t help it.

“He’s a real gentleman and he said he was into me. ME. Everyone would throw themselves at him but he came up to me and I flat out rejected him. What the hell is wrong with me?!”

You’re rolling on your bed, whining and kicking at the air. “I tried not to think about it but… it was just a date? Even if I didn’t end up dating him at least I could tell my grandchildren that I went on a date with Jung Jaehyun!”

“Is he really that great?” Hyunjin asks, out of curiosity but laced with jealousy he hopes you can’t see. His words sound distant to his own ears, triggering his fear of losing you.

“Yeah, I guess?”

You nudge his legs when he doesn’t respond. “How about you? Everything’s fine? You don’t look happy thesedays.”

Hyunjin never lies to you. You have a full access to his heart; he lets you in on his happiest days when life feels like the shiniest summer. He also lets you in even after the messiest thunderstorm when he feels that everything is fucked up. This time, he wants to lock you out. There’s nothing to see, there’s nothing to fix.

His heart is empty—he is empty, and he wants to protect you from the bleakness of it.

“I’m fine, just been arguing with Felix and Minho hyung over the song we’ll perform. It feels too monotone for me, but they think it’s perfect,” he explains, not completely lying. “I don’t know if I’m being selfish but somehow I just can’t let it go.”

“Have you tried explaining to them? Not how you feel, but how the song is. You can always go technical, you don’t need to worry just because Minho is more experienced.”

Hyunjin sighs. “I did, but probably it’s just me.”

“Do you wanna talk things out?” You yawn, squishing Gureum into your chest. “Or do you want to just sleep?”

He glances at the clock. “We both need sleep. It’s almost 3A.M.”

“Alright. Good night—I mean good morning!”

Hyunjin stretches his neck to look at you, your eyes are already closed. He relaxes his body and tries to sleep, but his jumbled mind keeps him awake. Hyunjin waits until you’re fast asleep before scooting closer, softly taking your hand in his before closing his eyes once again. He did it a lot when he was younger, holding your hand until he fell asleep. You nagged at him because it woke you up, but you never told him to stop doing it.

Tonight is no different.

“Hyunjin?”

“Sorry.”

You turn to him, “It’s okay.”

He mumbles a thank you, ready to go to sleep when you move to the mattress. Hyunjin gulps at the close proximity, it’s been too long since you slept on the same bed as him.

“Hyunjin, I missed you.”

Hyunjin heard a theory somewhere: 3.A.M-conversations are the most honest. It’s a little over 3A.M now, and he doesn’t how much of that theory is true, but your words fuel something deep within him. The feeling so strong he has to tear his gaze away from you. Hyunjin slowly pulls you into his arms, patting your back in rhythm with the clock.

He grazes his lips on your shoulder, mouthing his reply quietly, “I missed you too.”

You nod against his chest, pulling your hand out of his grasp so you could circle your arms around his torso.

Hyunjin falls asleep almost immediately, succumbing to the warmth and comfort you radiate.

He’s going to be alright.

“Do you think I’ll ever debut?”

Hyunjin takes off his SOPA jacket, plopping onto the bed while you’re munching on a pack of jelly. “Let me sleep for 10 minutes. I have to go to the company after this.”

You slap his thigh. “Why do you always sleep in my room? If I got a dollar everytime you sabotage my bed I’d be really rich now. Get out, you have practice!”

He reaches for your knee, using it as a pillow. Hyunjin feels you soften as you card your hand through his hair. “Is it hard? Are those mean hyungs still bothering you?”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “Changbin hyung told those motherfuckers to mind their own business.”

“Stop cursing!” you hiss. “It’s not cool, and what if you accidentally curse on broadcast later? You have so much to learn…”

Hyunjin opens his eyes and smiles when he meets your gaze. “Do you think I’ll ever debut?” he repeats his question.

“Have you seen yourself dancing? You’re better than most of the trainees I saw at the open showcase. Plus you have so many girls screaming your name. No offense, but that is definitely a plus point.”

You give his head a little smack when you notice doubt flashing through his orbs. “I believe in you, Hyunjin. Don’t doubt yourself,” you tell him softly. “And if you need someone to give those ‘motherfuckers’ a lesson, just call me. I know some people who can shut them up.”

He lets out an obnoxious gasp. “Are you a gangster now?! Your parents are going to be so disappointed in you. Looks like you have to say goodbye to medical school now…”

You sigh, now it’s your turn to look at Hyunjin with doubt in your eyes. “I’ll get in, right? What if I flunk my results later?”

“This is why I hate smart people,” he bemoans. “You rank first in the whole school, stop saying nonsense.”

Both of you a few more minutes lying in silence. When he waves you goodbye, Hyunjin feels like he can soar.

He’s safe with you, and you’re safe with him.

“Hwang Hyunjin, get off me!”

Hyunjin wakes up to you trying to untangle your legs from his. He catches your flailing legs, removing his before examining your face. “It’s almost noon. Aren’t you running late?” you pester, pointing at the clock.

“Lunch?” he asks.

This is supposed to be awkward. Hyunjin can’t recall what happened a few hours ago before blushing—he’s never been that intimate with you before. You two have had a fair share of platonic cuddle sessions, but last night felt different.

“Not yet,” you mutter. “I just woke up. Oh God my back hurts.”

He wants to know whether you feel the same, but you’ve made your way to the bathroom before he could ask anything. “What do you want to eat?” you yell, almost incoherently due to the toothpaste in your mouth.

“You’re not going to shower?” Hyunjin playfully shrieks.

“It’s my day off!”

“My mom must’ve cooked something. Gimme 10 minutes.”

Although he’s done this at least a hundred times, it’s still hard for Hyunjin to leave home. Seeing his he’s never able to stop his heart getting heavier at the sight of bidding his family goodbye until God knows when.

“Please come home more Y/N,” his mother asks you, raising her eyebrow. “Hyunjin seems to randomly pop up whenever you’re here, so please, come home more.”

You smack his back loudly, causing him to let out a choked groan. “I’ll teach him a lesson, don’t worry.”

Hyunjin gives his mother a sheepish smile, knowing all too well what she meant. He pulls you out before she starts grilling him for information, yelling one last goodbye before closing the door. You search for something inside your bag, stopping him from pressing the elevator button.

“You left something?”

“My dorm key,” you answer, walking back to your own unit. “You should just go,” you say. “It’s in the middle of the day anyways, we shouldn’t be seen together.”

Hyunjin follows you inside, watching you rummage through one of the buffet drawers. He notices how your shoulders are slumped and the way your eyebrows furrow. As his mind wanders to last night once again, you jab at his stomach lightly. “Hey, you’re spacing out.”

“Oh,” is all Hyunjin can say. He takes a good look of you, something he always does before he parts ways with you. Before he can stop himself, Hyunjin has wrapped his arms around you, letting you hear his erratic heartbeat. He still misses you, even after spending the whole night together.

Eventually, you pull away. “I’ll go first.” You ruffle his head. “See you when I see you?”

“See you soon,” he corrects you.

You smile, taking your bag from the floor and when he blinks, you’re gone.

Hyunjin still misses you now, even when you were just in his embrace a few minutes ago, burying your head into the crook of his neck. The empty space in his heart seems to expand whenever he thinks about you.

It hurts.

Minho ends the dance practice and everyone collapses on the floor the moment the music stops playing. Hyunjin immediately restarts the discussion they had before practice started.

“We used to sing both Grow Up and You Can Stay, why do we have to choose one now?” he demands while all of them are sprawled on the floor. “Our fans miss it too, I think it’s the perfect chance to bring it back.”

Chan takes a deep breath, nodding at Hyunjin. “I can’t see why not,” he says with a chuckle. “I don’t even remember why we abandoned it in the first place.”

Hyunjin does, and he knows Chan does too. It was simple, really. The song that once gave them comfort turned into this big monster made out of their worst nightmares. Each member had cried to the song during some of their concerts, and now performing it in front of everyone always brings back the painful memories.

“Yeah, we should sing it again,” Felix adds, kicking Jisung’s leg so the latter would sit up and voice out his opinion. “Well.” Jisung scratches the back of his head, “I’m cool with it.”

The rest of the group mumbles similar answers and Chan claps, giving Hyunjin a thumbs up. “Hyunjinnie is all grown up,” he praises before gathering his things and leaves. Hyunjin snorts at the leader’s compliment, but his sparkly eyes can’t fool anyone.

He pulls out his phone to relay the happy news to you, but the sparks in his eyes quickly fade when his messages from hours ago are still unread.

“What time are we leaving tomorrow?” he asks.

Seungmin checks his phone. “5A.M.”

Hyunjin wipes his sweat, chugging his water. Their American tour starts in a few days, and while he’s ecstatic because they’ll be performing at LA Staples Center for the first time, he also feels uneasy.

He takes out his phone, opening his contacts and stops when he sees your name. He stares at the number he remembers by heart.

“You okay?” Seungmin asks. “If you’re worried about District 9’s formation change, don’t. You nailed it today.”

“District 9…” Hyunjin trails off. “We’re getting too old for District 9.”

Jeongin grunts in agreement. “Whenever we finish my head always spins for like a minute. It’s been too long.”

“Yah,” Seungmin scolds him. “You need to get it checked. What if there’s something wrong with your head?”

The youngest does an exaggerated head banging, earning a kick from the puppy-like boy. Hyunjin chuckles at the two’s antics; some things never really change, and he’s grateful that this is one of those things.

Seungmin throws a playful punch at Jeongin’s stomach one last time before focusing his gaze back on Hyunjin. “Seriously though, did something happen?”

Hyunjin’s brain has a lot of template answers to questions like this, but the cliché words on tip of his tongue feel burning. His friends wait patiently as he fumbles for words, blinking his tears away when he fails to find the right words.

“I don’t even know if there’s anything,” he finally concludes. “It’s just—ever since Bonsang, it’s been hard. It’s been… nothing. Empty.”

Seungmin and Jeongin only nod, as if they understand how he feels. They probably do, Hyunjin thinks. Maybe he’s not the only one. Maybe all of his members have experienced it at some point, although at different times. Hyunjin feels slightly relieved at the thought. I’m not insane.

When he was a trainee, he thought everything would be fine once he debuted. It was, to some extent. But he was young and naïve, and when things beyond his control happened, Hyunjin barely managed to stay afloat. People told him how to handle stress, how to voice out his concerns, how to manage his body, mind and soul. He knew how to survive, theoretically.

No one actually taught him nor the other boys, and for an 18 year-old boy, feelings got intense quickly. After some trials and errors, everyone figured that it was best not to bottle up their feelings. Once again, it sounded easy in theory. In reality, with so many things happening at once, most of them eventually created a space in their own heads to seal everything in. They endured.

Jeongin looks at him with hesitation, rubbing his hands together. “It happens,” he reassures him. “It’s okay to worry about it, hyung. But worry about it with me, please!” Jeongin raises his tone. “You can barge into my room anytime. You can annoy the hell out of me, but stop suffering alone, will you?!”

Seungmin can’t miss the chance to tease the maknae. “Says the one who cried alone all night long in the bathtub after losing his voice.”

“If I hadn’t found you, you would’ve passed out,” Hyunjin adds. Jeongin lifts his hands in defeat. “Whatever. But I meant what I said.”

“Our Jeongin is so dependable,” Hyunjin coos.

“You say that all the time.” Jeongin rolls his eyes. “And then still baby me.”

Seungmin takes Hyunjin’s phone from the floor, passing it to the owner. “Call Y/N.”

Hyunjin panics a little. “Why?”

Seungmin shrugs. “Better days start after meeting the person you want to see the most!”

“Speaking of you and Y/N,” Jeongin quips. “You guys aren’t in high school anymore, stop flirting with each other and date already.”

Hyunjin gets a surge of bravery and dials your number, but immediately regrets his decision with each passing minute. He almost ends the call when you finally answer. “Hyunjin?”

“H-hi,” he stammers. “Busy?”

“Kind of... What? What happened?”

“Can we meet? I only need a couple of minutes. You’re in Seoul, right?”

“I am. Hyunjin, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

It’s scaring me too.

“I want to tell you in person. Where are you? I’ll come to you.”

Hyunjin isn’t sure when the lines between best friends and something more started to get blurry. The worse thing is, he realized it way too late and things got complicated before he could do anything about it.

“It’s too late to back out,” he mouths to himself while opening the stairwell door in the hospital you’re currently at. You’re sitting on one of the steps, dozing off as your head hits the wall every now and then.

Hyunjin runs his hand through his hair, guilt consuming him. He sits beside you, pulling your head to his right shoulder. The two of you always attended the same school until high school, when he decided to enroll in SOPA instead of a regular school. Since then, he never really knows what’s going on in your life. You told him about your close friends, the small fights, medical students’ inside jokes, the good looking boys, all the knowledge and experiences you’re grateful for despite the never-ending suffering and constant lack of sleep. You told him everything, but he’s never actually seen you in your world.

You’ve seen enough of his world—you’ve gone to his concerts, awards shows, even fansigns (as a prank because you wanted to see him getting all flustered while pretending not to know you). Hyunjin never has the time or makes an effort to do the same, and while it’s completely understandable due to the nature of his job, he feels like he’s going to lose you.

As he brushes your hair out of your face, Hyunjin asks himself whether he’s good enough for you.

“Whoa,” you suddenly whisper, straightening your body. “Did I fall asleep?”

Hyunjin stops you from getting up. “You must be tired.”

“So are you.” You remove his hand from your head. “So tell me. What’s going on?”

You’re here, sitting beside him, only wanting truth to come out of his mouth. Hyunjin bites his lip, the urge to just let go is eating him up, his soul begging him to get some answers. The familiar hollowness is back, and tears start to roll down his cheeks.

This isn’t the first time he cries in front of you, so you just pat his head, waiting for the tears to stop. “I’m sorry,” he groans. “I’m so sorry Y/N.”

You lift his head, eyes looking straight into his. “What for?” you mutter. “Hyunjin, please tell me.”

Hyunjin makes a silent plead at himself to toughen up, but it’s hard when you’re staring at him like this, wide eyes filled with raw concern and sincerity that never fail to touch the deepest part of his heart. “Hmm?” you prompt, still patting his head ever so softly.

“It’s been hard,” Hyunjin sniffles. “It’s hard to look forward to the future. I feel restless all the time. I have nothing to fight for. It’s…,” He makes gestures with his hand in attempt to explain it better. “… empty.”

You wipe his tears with the sleeve of your white coat. “Do you know why you feel that way?”

Hyunjin nods. “We’re doing well, we really are… and that’s probably why. Everything is going too well I don’t know what thrills me anymore. I thought I’d feel content once I reached all of my dreams, but that’s not the case.”

He examines your face, rehearsing the next lines in his head again and again. You cock an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. And the last bit of Hyunjin’s defense crumbles with every blink of your pretty eyes.

“And you… I miss you all the time. Even when you’re right here with me, I still miss you. I have to hold back whenever I’m with you because I don’t want you to run away from me. I love you, Y/N. I don’t know when it all started but maybe I’ve always loved you and it hurts me not being able to tell you that. The emptiness… it gets worse whenever you tell me we shouldn’t be seen together or that you have to go or when you have other boys like Jaehyun who are clearly better for you than I am because they can be there for you. I love you so bad you don’t know how hard it is to go through days without you, without kissing you good night, without hearing you laugh for me. I keep thinking, ‘what if you’re suddenly gone?’ Maybe you’ll leave me someday, maybe you’ll tell me that you can’t be my friend anymore, but I need you, Y/N. I love you and I need you here with me to keep going. I—”

Hyunjin watches you slowly—very slowly—retract your hand from his head as words fail him, and he feels as if his guts are being hammered to pieces. He can’t read your eyes, can’t even try to define what your gaze means.

You eventually stand up, pulling him up with you. “I’m not the answer, Hyunjin,” you mutter. “You can’t expect that you’ll never feel empty again once I say that I accept your feelings. It’s just—it’s not fair. This isn’t just about us not being together.”

“But—”

“I know,” you cut him off, your body start shaking due to all the tension. “I know. That’s how you feel, and I can’t dictate you what to feel and not to feel. Think about it like this…”

You pause to check if he’s still listening to you. He nods, weakly.

“… you spent years working your ass off to get recognition from everyone, and you did it. Don’t ever forget that, I’m begging you. So all of your dreams have come true and you feel lost now… it’s okay. You have a lot of time, Hyunjin. You can always have a new dream, you can have a thousand more. Don’t make me the answer to everything just because you haven’t found any other answer.”

You wait for him to respond, but Hyunjin is frozen to his spot. His world is now upside down, and he doesn’t know how long it will take to fix everything.

Your phone rings, snapping him out of his trance. You look at him apologetically. “I have to go.” Those damn words again. “Ask Seungmin to help you ice your face, you don’t want to show up at the airport with swollen eyes, do you? Call me before you take off, okay? Hyunjin?”

He can only nod, trying his best to give you the most reassuring smile. He feels everything all at once: shock, shame, sadness… but mostly regret because you’re right.

You always are.

“Have fun on tour! Send me all the photos you take!”

Now it’s turn for Hyunjin’s phone to ring as you make your way out, leaving him alone. He’s about to press the green button when the door opens once again. Hyunjin lets his phone ring, watching you fidget with your hands.

He’s still pretty much tongue-tied, but forces himself to ask, “Did you ever… love me? As more than friends?”

To his surprise, you take quick steps towards him, tiptoeing to press your lips on his. Your eyes are closed, your hands are tied to your sides and it takes Hyunjin his whole willpower to refrain himself from pulling your body closer, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the life out of you. He closes his eyes and just stands there, accepting whatever you’re willing to give him because there’s nothing he yearns more than your love and trust.

Hyunjin almost whines when you pull away with red cheeks and teary eyes. “Come back to me when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you. Only you.”

It’s Hyunjin’s 10th (or 11th? He can’t really remember) visit to New York, but he’s still as excited as a kid with his lollipop. After years of traveling from country to country, Hyunjin realizes that he just doesn’t get bored, ever. Each place holds a special memory he keeps close to his heart, something sentimental that motivates him to go back every chance he gets.

“Stand there,” he motions at Seungmin—the only one who’s willing to accompany him walking around the Empire State Building for the nth time—to stand at the spot he points at. Seungmin follows his instruction, smiling when Hyunjin starts counting. They examine the result and Seungmin shoves his leg. “I guess you finally learned something.”

Hyunjin feigns hurt, setting his camera’s focus on a group of kids, holding his breath before pressing the shutter. “As if you taught me anything.”

He glances at his bandmate who’s busy taking photos with his own camera. Photo hunting with Seungmin is always in Hyunjin’s “limited free time” itinerary. They’ve strolled around so many cities together, sometimes it takes the whole day if time allows them. Strangely, Seungmin never gets bored of it either and although it’s no surprise since he loves photography more than anything else, Hyunjin is grateful.

“You never say no whenever I ask you to take photos with me,” Hyunjin states. “Why?”

Seungmin frowns. “What kind of question is that?”

“Just wondering,” Hyunjin mumbles. “We do pretty much the same thing everytime. Sometimes I force you to go to the places we’ve been to… don’t you get bored?”

“It’s always different everytime, I thought that’s why sometimes you take photos at the same place? It’s never exactly the same, don’t you think?”

Hyunjin goes through the photos he took in New York last year, smiling at some of them as he recalls the funny anecdotes behind them. When he slips his phone back into his jeans pocket and lets his eyes wander… yes, nothing is exactly the same.

“You truly are a photographer. When’s your next exhibition, Photographer Kim?”

Seungmin snaps his finger. “Ah! Exhibition! I forgot to ask you, why don’t we held a joint exhibition this time?”

“You want to show your photos along with my photos?”

“Why not? Yours are amazing too! And you’re my best friend, it’ll be fun.”

Hyunjin imagines having his photo framed on the wall. Small placards pinned underneath, containing the words he constructs to explain each of them. The fans will come to feel how it feels like to be here behind the lens. Maybe people who don’t even know him will come too, and get a chance to actually know him.

He reaches his phone to relay the idea to you, smiling to himself when he finds messages from you instead.

y/n: [sends a picture]

y/n: ahreum finally woke up today! isnt she pretty?

me: everyone is prettier than you

me: you must be happy!!

y/n: ??????

y/n: oh. she asked me to recommend boygroup songs

y/n: i made her listen to every single skz song

y/n: and your solo songs!!!!

me: awwwwwww

me: and you cant be doing this for free right?

“Is that your best friend slash girlfriend?” Seungmin is suddenly standing behind him, reading over his shoulder. “You guys are so cute it’s making me feel sick.”

Hyunjin sighs, gazing at the busy street upon him. “We’re not dating. At least not yet.”

“What happened? Just realized that I never really asked.”

“She asked me to come to her when I’m ready.”

Seungmin looks at him quizzically, but decides not to press him further. “Are you ready now?”

They’re flying back to Seoul next week, and while he thought he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the tour, he truly did. He thinks of all the good things that have happened: the sold out shows, the happy tears, his improvement, the upcoming exhibition with Seungmin, and lastly, you—the one who’s patiently waiting for him.

There have been a lot of times when Hyunjin feels like he’s everywhere but nowhere at the same time. It sounds scary, but now he realizes that he only needs to admit that he’s indeed everywhere, but never nowhere.

“Almost.”

The instrumental of Grow Up starts to play and all the boys rush back to their designated positions. The atmosphere turns a bit more sentimental as the bridge approaches, they’re just looking at each other while Minho is singing his part. In the past, they often teased each other during this very part, afraid that they would break down if they let their emotions overtake them. Hyunjin averts his gaze to the audience, watching the beautiful color of their lightsticks light up the huge stadium. As he gestures at some of the fans to stop crying, Hyunjin thanks himself for convincing the others to add the song back to their setlist.

The song comes to an end, and Chan gathers everyone to make a circle. Hyunjin feels pats on his head and back, Chan’s voice drowned by the fans who are still singing. He can’t resist the urge to turn around, so he does just that, and what he won’t trade what he sees for anything.

Their fans are standing there, eyes focused on everyone on stage as they sing each syllable perfectly. Changbin follows his gaze, and soon all of them are facing the audience again, listening to every wish, every hope, and every message relayed through the lyrics of the song.

Hyunjin lifts his mic, eyes darting to Chan who gives him a nod of approval. “Thank you,” he begins. “This is our last stop for this tour, and I can’t be any prouder and thankful to all of you.”

He lets the translator translate his speech before continuing, “I had a lot of worries before the tour started. I honestly thought I wouldn’t be able to go through everything.”

“You made our dreams come true,” Hyunjin continues. “You made my dreams come true and I naively thought that was the end of everything. But I learned a lot during this tour, and once again, you made this happen. All the pretty words you told us, they mean a lot. They always will. I realized that this will always be my dream, no matter how many times this has come true. I want to make you, who stay with us throughout everything, happy. I want to be here for a very long time. I want to be with you, to be with the members and our family, for a very long time.”

He stops when he feels he can’t continue anymore, letting the others take the spotlight. He gives each of his bandmates with a loving gaze, stopping at Minho who lets tears roll down his cheeks this time. Jeongin is giggling beside him, walking over to wrap the tsundere hyung in a firm hug.

Hyunjin thinks they’ve really come a long way.

Being back home usually gives Hyunjin a peace of mind, but when he sees no notification on his phone, he feels weird. He dials his mother’s number, his heart grows even more anxious when she picks up.

“Oh Hyunjin-ah, did you just land?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you come over here? Or do you have an important schedule?”

“No, we get 2 days off. What’s going on?”

“Y/N’s sister passed away. Sorry we didn’t tell you sooner, we didn’t want you to panic.”

“Eomma! How could you?”

“I’m sorry. This is Y/N’s request as well. She’s been here for 2 days and no one can make her eat anything. Can you take her home?”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“You’re going to live in Germany! You’re such a lucky kid!”

The little girl smiles bashfully as you pout at her. “The luckiest girl on Earth,” you add, fixing her messy hair.

“If you’re so jealous of me, why don’t you come along?”

“Are you kidding?” you exclaim. “I’m on my way to be the greatest doctor in this country. You can’t change my mind.”

“Alright, it’s time to go,” your father interrupts, giving you one last hug before whispering things into your ear. Hyunjin steps back to allow you say goodbye to your family, tearing up at the painful sight. Your father, a doctor, accepts an offer to work in a hospital in Germany and takes the whole family with him since your sick little sister needs more intensive treatment.

But you’re staying to become a great doctor like your father, hoping you’ll get a chance to cure your sister later.

“Please take care of her, Hyunjin. We trust you,” your mother tells him. Hyunjin nods, enveloping your hand in his. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here monitoring her every move and drag her back home whenever she spends too much time at the academy.”

Your sister laughs, bowing to Hyunjin. “I also want a boyfriend like Hyunjinoppa! Please take care of our unnie.”

You yank your hand away from him. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

Hyunjin seems unbothered by your statement, bowing to your family to annoy you more. “Our family will take care of her, you can trust us.”

Your sister’s smiling face greets Hyunjin as he enters the funeral home. He stares at the photo then closes his eyes to pray, whispering strings of apologies that’s always too late. I’m sorry I never visited you. I’m sorry I failed to take care of your sister. I’m sorry I didn’t call you enough.

He bows to your family, the first bow since years ago, and he wishes he could turn back time. Hyunjin turns to you, gazing into your tired eyes. Your mother pulls him towards you. “She hasn’t eaten at all. Can you please bring her home, Hyunjin? I hope you’re not too busy. I’m sorry that we meet like this.”

“Hyunjin just landed in Seoul. How could you force him to come here?” you snap, returning his gaze. “Go home. I’ll call you later.”

Hyunjin almost yells in frustration, but swallows everything before dragging you out, only tightening his grip on your wrist when you try to pry his hand off of you. You keep shouting at him, yelling at him to stop, but Hyunjin doesn’t budge. He drags you all the way to his car, opening the passenger door for you.

“Get in the car, Y/N.”

Without waiting for you to move, he lifts your body and sits you down, fastening your seatbelt. “Please don’t push me away,” he pleads. “Why do you always tell me go home, go back to practice, to leave… why?! I promised your parents to take care of you. I promised your sister, why aren’t you letting me do that?!”

“I never asked you to do that,” you mutter through gritted teeth, causing Hyunjin to grip your shoulders.

“You only said that to hurt me,” he replies. “Even now you’re still trying to push me away. I want to be here Y/N. Don’t you want me here?”

You avoid his eyes, keeping your gaze on your clasped hands. “Tell me,” Hyunjin challenges. “Tell me that you don’t want me to stay with you, and I’ll leave.”

He waits for you to respond, letting out a relieved sigh he doesn’t bother hiding when you shake your head. “Want you here. Thank you.”

“Have you cried?”

After your sister was born, you were told not to shed tears in front of her. Your parents always scolded you if you started crying when you saw her in pain, and after some time, it became a habit. A habit that Hyunjin absolutely despises since it makes you suppress your feelings, as if punishing you for having feelings.

“I don’t know… maybe I haven’t.”

“You lost your sister, you can cry. Your parents cried a lot too, it’s fine.”

You nod, resting your head in the crook of his neck when tears start to well up. Hyunjin presses a kiss on your temple, finding himself tearing up the moment you start sobbing, something he has never witnessed although he’s known you for almost his whole life.

“Is this your Armani suit?” you manage to voice in the middle of sobs and snorts. He takes you into his embrace, chuckling, “Yes, but you can ruin it however you want. Another privilege as my best friend.”

“Can I abuse this privilege?”

“Ruining my expensive suits?”

“No,” you laugh airily. “Crying when you’re with me.”

Hyunjin cups your wet cheeks, gently pushing your hands away when you want to wipe your tears away. “Anytime. You can cry, laugh, curse, get angry, get drunk… you can do anything when you’re with me.”

And that’s all it takes before you start sobbing into his suit again. Hyunjin is standing there for the longest time, sandwiched by the passenger seat and door of his car with you in his arms. He doesn’t care, he will do it all over again, and he will do much more. For you, and only you.

“Where are you? It’s past midnight already!”

“Hwang Hyunjin, you’re lucky I’m willing to go home when I have a morning shift tomorrow,” you scold him over the phone.

“It’s my birthday! Wait, it isn’t even my birthday anymore!” he whines in an obnoxious tone that never fails to upset you. He giggles when he hears you huff, the sound of the elevator signaling that you’ve already arrived.

“You asked me to buy you a cake right before I left,” you hiss. “Now open the door, I’m outside.”

The call ends and Hyunjin rushes to the door. You’re carrying the red velvet cake he requested, the candles already lit and Hyunjin tries not to melt at the way you look at him. He did ask you to buy him a cake and “surprise” him at your apartment, but he is nowhere near ready to see you like this: all smiley and cheery for him despite sounding annoyed over the phone.

“Happy birthday,” you sing song, your smile growing wider as he blows the candle. Hyunjin returns your smile before taking the cake from you, pulling you towards your room. “Go get changed, I’ll slice the cake for you.”

A few minutes later, both of you are seated on your couch, talking about every little thing while enjoying the cake. Hyunjin tells you about Stray Kids’ upcoming comeback, a very special one since Minho choreographed the title track. You tell him about various cases that happened in the hospital while wondering if you’ll ever finish medical school and actually be a doctor.

Everything feels the way Hyunjin expects it to be, until you put your empty plate on the table and look at him straight in the eyes. “Hyunjin…”

He quickly swallows and places his plate on the table as well, never breaking eye contact with you. “What?”

You gulp. “Do you remember when I asked you to come find me when you’re ready?”

“Feels like yesterday.”

“Well,” you murmur. “I’m just wondering if you’re… ready.”

Fire lights up in his stomach, and before you can continue, Hyunjin is already trapping you between his body and the couch. “I am,” he says. “Are you?”

You brush his fringe with your fingers. “You were waiting for me?”

“You told me to start dreaming again, so I did,” Hyunjin recalls. “And I realized that all of my dreams are right in front of me—you, my family, the hyungs, Jeongin, the fans… keeping you guys with me is something I’ll always dream of although all of you are already here.”

You pout at him, but Hyunjin doesn’t miss the proud gleam in your eyes. “Then what’s taking you so long?”

He pinches your nose. “I waited for you to be ready, as you said before, it wasn’t just about us being together. I don’t want you to choose me only because you feel like you need me. I want you to… want me… to love me with a clear head. Just like what you wanted me to do. I want to give you the world, but only if you allow me to.”

You circle your arms around his neck, sighing happily, “You gave me the world, Hyunjin. You listen to me, you console me, you give me a shoulder to cry on. You’re the only one I’ve ever waited for, and I’m so glad that you came back to me.”

Hyunjin is sure that his whole system has stopped working, the words you just uttered feel like the strongest, yet the sweetest liquor he’s ever tasted. He is drunk on the love you offer; he’s drunk on your touch, your smile and everything you want to give him. You’re driving him nuts, completely nuts, but it’s the only thing he wants to feel. You are the only one he yearns to feel.

You seem to sense his burning gaze and start nibbling on your bottom lip. “So this is the part where you kiss me…”

“This is the part where I kiss you…”

You shake your head. “This feels weird. You’re my best friend.”

“You kissed me,” Hyunjin reminds you. “It’s not like we’ve never done it before.”

“No, but—” You pause to let yourself breathe. “I kissed you. This is different, I’m not going to survive you kissing me.”

“For the love of God Y/N, just—”

You point at your lips. “And I still have my lipgloss on!”

Hyunjin is caressing your reddening cheek now, trying to destroy the last bit of your defense. “And what’s wrong with that?” he asks softly.

“It’s sticky! Our lips will get stuck and it won’t be romantic.”

“So what do you want to do? Go into your room and wipe it off with a cotton pad or something?”

“Yeah, let’s do—”

Hyunjin doesn’t let you finish as he finally dives in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that set both of you on fire. He hums when he feels your body relax in his hold, allowing him to savor you with so much longing and want. Hyunjin lets his heart take the lead, kissing you harder whenever you tug the ends of his hair and making him putty under your touch. It never feels enough, it feels like he only gets hungrier everytime you return his kiss, the feeling of your lips moving against his almost destroys him.

Nothing is stopping him now, he came back to you and you welcomed him with open arms. Hyunjin leaves one more open mouthed kiss on your lips before pulling away with a loud pop, taking in the sight of you trying to breathe. You slowly meet his eyes with flushed cheeks, eyes mirroring his own and Hyunjin tries to remember every single detail. “God I love you so much,” he hears himself whisper.

You smile, lifting your hand to trace his face delicately. “I love you.”

“Are you mine now?” Hyunjin knows this is childish, but he wants to hear it. He longs to hear it.

Thankfully, you’re willing to play his game tonight. “Only yours.”

“No more mourning over Jung Jaehyun?”

“Jesus Christ, do you need to stoop that low.”

“Yes.” Hyunjin pecks your nose. “He doesn’t listen to K-pop, right? Introduce him to me.”

You roll your eyes. “I love you, why the hell are we talking about Jaehyun now?”

“Then what should we talk about?”

“Since we’re on a competition to ruin the mood, lemme burst your bubble: my parents are moving back in next week so we need another place to do... this.”

“Okay,” Hyunjin answers. “What are we gonna do now?”

You wrap your legs around his torso, making him gasp. “I don’t know, kiss me again? I’m gonna tell you this just once, but I, along with thousands of other people, have always wanted to kiss you. It made me feel pathetic, but it is what it is.”

Hyunjin blushes, but refuses to lose to you. “You tried to make me not kiss you a few minutes ago and now you’re desperate to kiss me. Was I that good?”

“Hmmm I guess so,” you hum.

He swiftly lifts your body, grinning when you tighten your hold around his neck. “Well, I’m yours to kiss now,” he teases, trying to walk into room without knocking into things. You leave soft kisses all over his face, prompting Hyunjin to walk faster so he could just kiss you already.

When your back hit your bed, Hyunjin stops to admire your face. “I kissed you a long time ago, don’t you remember?”

Your eyes widen. “You? Kissed me? With those plush lips? When?!”

“You don’t remember? But it was our first kiss!”

You spend the next few minutes racking your brain before nodding. “Ah, it did happen a long time ago.”

“It’s okay, maybe you wanted to forget that moment. It was your darkest time, and I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

Shaking your head, you run your thumb along his lip. “Thank you for staying with me all these years.”

Hyunjin closes the gap between you once again, hoping to chase away all the sorrow inside your soul. You pull him closer, making him practically lying on top of you, feeling your chest rise with each touch of his lips on your skin. “Thank you,” a kiss on each of your eye, “for,” a kiss on the tip of your nose, “making me,” a kiss on your lips—this time he lets it linger, “dream,” a kiss on your chin, “again,” and a kiss on your neck.

It took Hyunjin so long to understand the world, and now he still hasn’t understood even half of it. But in the middle of his journey, he met you. He learned to dream, he learned to love you.

And he learned to love himself.

The door opens with a bang, revealing an incredibly panicked Hyunjin. He just finished training when he received a call from you, who said nothing but, “I won’t let you walk home alone.” You wouldn’t end the call throughout his way home, but refused to say anything else and almost making Hyunjin dash to the police station.

Hyunjin sees your shadow, letting out a small scream when he spots you lying on the floor in the dark. He runs to you, about to carry you back into your room when you stop him. “I feel like crying,” you rasp, choking on your saliva. “I can’t stop it.”

It’s been a month since your family left, and while you’re trying your best to be a big girl and live the way you always do, it’s not easy. Hyunjin lies beside you, eyes locked on the tears rolling down your cheeks. You never cry loudly. You never sob nor wail. You just cry silently, mostly in the dark so you can’t see yourself crying.

Hyunjin takes your hand in his, hovering over you before tracing your tears with his lips as if it can stop them. He pecks every wet spot, slowly getting to your lips. He leaves a chaste, barely-there kiss before wrapping his arms around you, whispering comforting things until you start falling asleep on the hard floor.

Hyunjin hopes you’ll allow yourself to cry however you wish to someday.

a/n: i was so happy writing this that i almost cried when i finished because i know i’m going to miss writing this one. this story feels so sentimental, happy and sad at the same time and probably that’s why i feel so attached to it. ive wanted to write this since last year, even before “give my heart a chance”. i always wondered what would happen after we reach our dreams and i hope you’ll feel a little better after reading this (especially if you’re experiencing the same thing). this story is a long journey, but i hope you’ll enjoy it.

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justcallmefox89 · 4 years

Text

The Demon Prince’s Wedding Part 1 - Truth or Dare Series

It’s been four months since Diavolo’s proposal to Mammon and Arianthi, and their wedding ceremony is only a few days away. The trio has been trying to keep their bond strong even though resentment is brewing between Diavolo and Arianthi. Mammon tries to hold the relationship together, but is fearful he’ll have to eventually choose between his first love and his new love. Arianthi is keeping a secret from her fiances.

This story is told from the perspective of my female OC Arianthi.

I sit in an armchair in Diavolo’s study, my legs curled beneath me, restlessly tapping my pen against the notebook I’m holding. I stare listlessly into the fireplace, the dancing flames captivating me and drawing my attention away from the list I’ve been perusing.

We are making a huge mistake.

“Arianthi........beloved?” Diavolo’s low voice eventually draws me out of my reverie.

“Mmmm? What’s up Dia?”

I glance over to where he sits bent over his desk, muddling though his nightly paperwork. He’s stripped off his red jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled his shirtsleeves up on his forearms. His auburn hair is disheveled, a sure sign he’s become frustrated at some point and run his fingers through it in irritation.

He’s beautiful.

“Could you light the candles for me?” Diavolo asks absentmindedly, not looking up from the forms he’s signing.

I look around the study in surprise. I’d been so lost in my own thoughts I hadn’t even noticed that the room had grown dark. I give a lazy flick of my wrist and tiny flames burst forth from my fingertips, lighting the dozens of candles strategically placed in the study, and bathing the room in a soft golden glow.

“You’ve gotten very good at that.”

I adjust in my chair to look at Diavolo; he’s gazing at me with a proud smile, his eyes soft and adoring.

“Lucifer’s been helping me train,” I tell him.

Diavolo’s mouth quirks to the side, the barest flicker of annoyance at the mention of his second in command. Several months into our relationship and there are still some bitter personal feelings between himself and our fiance’s eldest brother.

“I saw that,” I murmur, turning my attention back to my list.

Extra food for Beel? Yes. Levi’s fitting for his ceremony outfit? Scheduled for tomorrow.

Diavolo gives a rather undignified snort. “Saw what?”

“That look you get when ever someone mentions Lucifer outside of work.”

“I do not have a look,” he grumbles, shuffling through the papers on his desk.

“Whatever you say my love.” I don’t bother to glance up from my notebook.

Ceremony ribbons? Yes. Extra extra food for Beel? Double check.

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen my father this evening, have you princess?” Diavolo asks hesitantly.

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes and almost give myself an aneurysm.

Fucking Arawn.

“I have not. Do you want me to find him and see if he wants to join you for a late supper?”

Diavolo shakes his head. “I was just curious. I wonder where he’s got off to.”

“Sleeping with one of the servants? Sabotaging the caterers? Eating small children? Torturing one of the Little Ds? Planning yet another way to break up our relationship? Maybe slashing up my wedding dress for funsies?” I toss out several helpful suggestions.

“Princess........” Diavolo sounds exhausted.

“Diavolo.” I arch an eyebrow at him.

“I’m doing my best here Arianthi.” Diavolo visibly tenses behind his desk.

A sound of annoyance breaks low in my throat and I turn my attention back to my list.

My rings for the boys? Locked in the safe at the House of Lamentation.

“Princess.” Diavolo’s tone is soft and cajoling.

I set my notebook on the arm of my chair with a deep sigh and raise my eyes to look at him.

“The man is a menace Dia. I’m tired of him trying to ruin our relationship and seducing the staff. And he absolutely terrorizes the Little Ds. They're scared half to death of him.”

“Five more days my love. Five more days, and once we’re married the transfer of power will be completed and I will be king. Once he has nothing left here to entertain him my father will leave. I promise you.”

I sigh deeply. “Fine. But if I find him having sex with another servant I’m setting them both on fire.”

I pause, thinking back to a day last month.

“I’ll never look at the dining room table the same way ever again,” I shiver in revulsion.

Diavolo pushes his chair back from his desk and holds his arms open. “Come to me. That’s an order from you future king.”

I roll my eyes and huff out a low laugh, crossing the room to settle into his lap. Diavolo gathers me in his arms and holds me tightly to his chest. When he finally speaks I can feel the vibrations of his deep voice.

“I love you. So very, very much.”

I raise my head and press a soft kiss to his jaw. “You better,” I murmur. “Devildom knows you’re a proper handful to deal with.”

He gives a low chuckle, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. I snuggle deeper into his embrace and nuzzle my face into his neck.

“You’re cuddly tonight,” Diavolo whispers, idly playing with my hair.

“I’ve missed you.”

Diavolo frowns. “I’ve been right here princess.”

I frown, toying with the buttons on his shirt. “Not really. I’ve been busy with the last minute details of the wedding, you’ve been working at R.A.D. and with the court, and Mammon’s been working on his new photo campaign with Majolish.......”

“I’m so proud of him.” Diavolo beams.

“I am too,” I answer, returning his smile. “I miss you both though. We haven’t all slept in our bed together in weeks. Or even been able to eat a meal at the same time.”

His arms tighten around me and he brushes his lips against my forehead in a gentle kiss. “Mammon should be home soon. Why don’t you go on and start getting ready for bed? Give me another thirty minutes to finish this paperwork and I’ll come up. We’ll all spend tonight together princess. Promise.”

“I have a proposal concerning our activities for the evening,” I murmur, running my hands through his hair and bringing his face down to mine.

“Mmmm. Tell me more my queen.” He takes my lower lip between his teeth and gives it a gentle tug.

“I’d rather show you.”

He raises his eyebrows, smirking at me, before claiming my mouth in a soft kiss. I sigh into the kiss, reveling in the plush satin of his lips. Diavolo nips at my lower lip, teasing my tongue with his. The kiss quickly turns heated and he works his hands under my shirt, stroking his fingertips along my rib cage.

Someone loudly clears their throat behind us and we break apart, startled.

“Hello Diavolo, Arianthi.”

Arawn stands in the doorway of the study, three lower ranking members of the demon court standing next to him.

I bury my face into Diavolo’s chest and groan.

What now?

“Can I help you father?”

Arawn gestures to the other three demons. “There are a few matters we would like to discuss with you before the ascension ceremony.”

“Of course. Just speak to Barbatos to sche -”

“Tonight.”

I stiffen in Diavolo’s arms. “Dia,” I whisper.

He looks down at me and gives me a sad smile before kissing my forehead. “I’m sorry my love.”

I push myself out of his lap. “You promised.”

“Princess........” He reaches out and grasps at my fingertips.

“Goodnight Diavolo.” I know saying anything else is useless; I’ll be asleep long before he comes to bed.

“Goodnight Arianthi.” Arawn gives me a charming smile as I brush past him to exit the study.

“Piss off old man.”

I hear a shocked gasp from one of the courtiers but I keep walking, making my way to our bedroom.

Arawn is lounging against our bedroom door when I get there.

I close my eyes and count to ten, willing myself not to set his hair on fire,

“Have I told you how much I hate you do this?” I ask, leaning against the banister opposite our door.

“Several times.” He gives me a charismatic grin, a carbon copy of Diavolo’s. “Warding the room against me was a cute move.”

“I hope it hurt,” I answer, looking pointedly at a singe mark on the sleeve of his shirt.

The only reason we had to ward the bedroom was because you showed up naked in our bed trying to get me to sleep with you.

I shudder at the memory.

His eyes widen in mock surprise. “You’re so mean Arianthi......we’re going to be family soon. We should act like it.”

I sigh heavily and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m not in the mood for this tonight Arawn. What do you want?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Just looking for Mammon.”

“He’s working. He told me about you trying to bribe him into leaving Diavolo the last time you talked to him.�� I give him a dirty look.

Arawn pouts at me. “You’re not really upset about that are you? Besides, he didn’t take the Grimm.”

Five more days, five more days, five more days.

“The fact that you sound disappointed about that is almost as aggravating as you trying to bribe him in the first place,” I mutter. “Don’t you have anything better to do than trying to destroy your son’s relationship?”

Arawn looks up at the ceiling, pretending to think, then gives me an impish smirk. “Not really.”

I roll my eyes and shoulder past him to remove the ward and enter our bedroom. I reach out to turn the doorknob and he grabs my wrist, catching it in an iron grip. I suck in a deep breath and grit my teeth as the small bones of my wrist are crushed beneath his fingers.

“You should remember who your king is little demon,” he whispers menacingly into my ear.

“Diavolo is my king,” I hiss, glaring at him.

He yanks me closer to him, studying me carefully. “I would think long and hard about how you speak to me young one. Especially since you don’t have just yourself to think about anymore.”

My eyes widen in shock. “How -”

“I’m not as oblivious as my son or that dimwitted fallen angel you both insist on bedding. I wonder what it says about your relationship that neither of them have figured it out yet. After all, it only took me a few moments.”

Arawn releases me, giving casual shrug. “It was nice talking to you little demon, but I think I should rejoin the group in the study. Tell Mammon I was looking for him, will you?”

He tosses me a backwards wave as he walks away. I take a shaky breath before slipping into our bedroom.

Five more days.

The bedroom feels too big without Mammon and Diavolo in it, and I scowl at the huge bed in frustration. I send a small fireball floating through the air to light the fireplace and wander aimlessly around the room. I run my fingers over the spines of the books sitting on the bookshelf before selecting one and tossing it into an armchair.

I walk to the bathroom, shedding my clothes and leaving them haphazardly on the floor as I go. I stand under the warm stream of water, moodily contemplating my upcoming nuptials and twisting my engagement ring on my finger.

Even if I decide not to go through with the wedding they’ll find out eventually. And once they do I highly doubt they’ll ever willingly let me leave the Devildom.

I shake myself and try to push worst case scenarios out of my mind.

Dia and Mammon would never force me to do anything I don’t want to, no matter what the circumstances are. I know them better than that. Right?

I turn off the water and towel off, feeling worse than I did before I showered. I grab Diavolo’s robe and slip it on, the silk cool and smooth against my skin. The hem of the robe hangs almost to my ankles and it smells like Diavolo. Tears prick my eyes as longing washes over me. For the first time since I’ve come to the Devildom I feel utterly alone.

I snag one off Mammon’s pillows from the bed and sink into an armchair, cuddling it close to my stomach. I pick up my book and crack the cover, trying to lose myself in fantasy world of The Seven Lords.

Some time later I’m awakened by someone shaking my shoulder and a voice saying, “Oi! Ya better not be drooling on my pillow!”

I grunt and cling tighter to the pillow, refusing to open my eyes.

“Fine. Be that way ya grouch.”

Strong arms lift me from the armchair and carry me across the room to lay me gently onto the bed. Mammon settles in bedside me and pulls the covers up around us before wrapping his arms around me and holding me close. I grumble and try to burrow deeper into the mattress.

He presses a kiss to the back of my neck. “Come on baby, tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Diavolo promised he would spend tonight with us and then Arawn showed up and sucked him into another meeting,” I mumble into the pillow. “Dia didn’t even try to tell him no.”

Mammon hugs me. “I miss him too baby.”

I roll over to face him. “Mammon......do you think we’re making a mistake?”

He frowns in confusion. “What do you mean?”

I hesitate for a moment, scared of how he’ll react. “Marrying Dia. Are we making a mistake?”

“Seriously?” Mammon scowls and releases me from his hold.

I roll back over and curl in on myself in an attempt to avoid his scathing gaze.

Mammon heaves a deep sigh and gently turns me back to face him. “I’m sorry baby, I shouldn’tve snapped at ya. Talk to me. What’s got ya thinkin’ like this?”

“He’s already so busy.....and it’s only going to get worse once he’s king. The court is virtually useless and they’re going to depend on Dia to handle everything. Do you think he’ll make time for us? Or will it always just be us two with him making the occasional appearance?”

I sigh and close my eyes.

“You’ve heard the rumors floating around the Devildom. To them we’re just his thief and his whore. Barely anyone supports this marriage.”

“You’ve always known he was gonna be king someday.” Mammon looks at me sadly, blue eyes filled with something that looks very much like disappointment. “Do you still love him? Still love us?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then trust Diavolo. Trust me. We both love ya more than anything and I know he’ll do everything he can to be a good husband to us. And even when he’s busy we’ll always have each other.”

“I do trust you. I trust both of you. I’ve just been thinking.....”

“About what?” Mammon cuddles me close to his chest.

“Just about how different life is here in the Devildom. I never imagined my life would be like this,” I admit.

“What did ya imagine?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I just, I had my own life before this you know? Separate from you guys. Before he brought me down here. I had my friends and I was gonna start a new job and I had -” I cut myself off, biting down hard on my lip before I say too much.

Mammon looks at me strangely and his blue eyes flicker away from me momentarily before resting on me once again. “I’ve never asked ya this before but..........you had someone up there didn’t ya?”

I nod slowly, not trusting my voice.

“Tell me about ‘em baby.” Even though his voice is soft this is a command, not a question.

“Their name was Ryan. We’d only been together for a few months. They were ten years older than me and ready to commit, ready for something serious. We talked about moving in together after my lease on my apartment was up.”

I brush some hair out of my face and smile a little as I remember. “They were sarcastic, gorgeous, driven....................one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. Everything was just so easy with them.”

“Did ya love ‘em?” Mammon asks, his voice rough and hoarse.

“It was going in that direction, yeah.”

His eyes narrow. “Then why didn’t ya go back to them after your year was up?”

“Are you serious Mammon? A year is a long damn time for a human. My job wasn’t just going to welcome me back with open arms. Ryan and I weren’t going to just pick up where we left off; not after a year of me being missing and not having any contact with anyone.” I glare at him, angry and defiant.

He shrinks back from me a little.

“And I fell in love with you. Both of you.”

“So what’s the problem?”

You dense motherfucker.

I just shake my head and roll my eyes. “Really? Are you being serious right now?”

Mammon glares at me. “What? Would ya go back right now if could? Choose them over us?”

I start at him for one long moment before shaking my head. “No. I wouldn’t.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The point is I should have had a choice Mammon. When he brought me down here Diavolo took away a year of my life; he took away my opportunities and my relationship. Everything I’d worked so hard for in the human realm didn’t matter anymore. I had to start all over; without my friends, without my partner.......he brought me here with nothing. And when the year was over I couldn’t get any of it back.”

I rapidly blink away tears of frustration.

“I love you both so, so much. But I gave up everything to stay here; I gave up my humanity to stay with you both. And yeah, maybe I’m angry about that. Maybe I’m starting to resent Dia for bringing me here. I’ve given him everything Mammon. Everything. And he can’t even keep a simple promise to spend one night with us? After us being apart for how many weeks?”

The words are tumbling out now, faster and faster, and I can't stop them. Mammon is staring at me, shock and outrage warring across his face.

“Don’t you dare look at me like that Mammon! What have you ever had to give up to be with us? You were more than happy to move into the Demon Lord’s castle. More than happy to accept all the perks of being with Dia.”

I probably could have stabbed him and hurt him less but I can’t stop, letting out every fear and frustration I’ve felt for the past year and a half.

“Is it always going to be like this? Am I always going to be the one giving things up? Settling for scraps of his time? Aren’t you mad about him never being around? Or the way he never stands up to Arawn? How long is this going to go on? What happens when the-” I clap my hands over my mouth before I finish the sentence.

“When the what princess?”

I close my eyes tight and grit my teeth in an attempt to block out Diavolo’s question and the anguished tone of his voice.

“Arianthi........ do you really feel like I took everything from you?”

I refuse to turn around, locking my eyes on some distant point over Mammon’s shoulder.

“Diavolo she didn’t mean it.” Mammon’s eyes dart worriedly between me and Diavolo, and he’s starting to look panicked.

“I meant it. I meant all of it.” I climb out of bed, facing Diavolo. My stomach clenches at the sight of his ashen face, but I tamp the guilt down and anger quickly takes its place.

“Have you always felt like this?” Diavolo asks softly.

“Maybe, in the back of my mind. It was always easy to ignore because I was so damn happy with both of you. But now all I can think about is our future and what it’s going to look like and.......” I trail off, running my hands through my hair. “I can’t do this right now Diavolo.”

I start to move past him so I can leave the bedroom, and he reaches out and attempts to touch my shoulder.

“Princess, please.....we can talk-”

“No!” I unfurl my wings to block his hand and dart out into the hallway, leaving my fiances starting after me in shock.

I walk the castle halls without a particular destination in mind, finally arriving at the throne room. I gaze around the room, taking in the ornate decor. The room feels oppressive, and it’s hard to imagine that Mammon and I will ever have a place here.

I wander the perimeter of the room, toppling standing candelabras and knocking portraits from the walls with languid flicks of my tail. When reach Arawn’s portrait I hurl it across the room, impaling it on one of the last standing candelabras. Feeling slightly more empowered after finishing my path of destruction, I ascend the steps of the dais that stands at the front of the room. I circle the throne, my fingertips dancing over the intricate carvings and gold inlays.

I eventually sprawl out in the throne and look out over the cavernous room, trying to imagine it full of people looking up at me while I gaze at them from this place of superiority.

That sounds completely miserable. No wonder Diavolo was so desperate to be treated like a normal person. For someone to just see him and not his title.

I sigh and scrub my hands over my face in equal parts frustration and sadness. I summon a tiny fireball and lazily roll it over my knuckles a few times before tossing it at the wall where it quickly fizzles out, leaving a sooty scorch mark behind.

Hmm. Satisfying.

I spend the next several minutes tossing fireballs, peppering the wall and curtains with scorch marks, making random patterns.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I roll my eyes at the sound of Mammon’s voice and summon another flame. “If you’re here to get me to go apologize to Dia I’m not interested right now.”

“You should,” Mammon says softly. “He’s really upset.”

I snort, sending a small orb of grimfire to orbit around Mammon’s head. “And I’m not?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down. “What’s done is done. We’re about to get married.......what’s the point of worrying about it now?.”

I straighten up on the throne, staring at him intently, and for one brief moment the grimfire pulses with a dangerous green light. Mammon’s eyes meet mine and I sigh; the orb fizzles out with a puff of acrid smoke.

“You always take his side,” I mumble. “Always.”

“Baby come on.” Mammon tries to cajole me out of the throne. “Let’s go to bed and forget about all this.”

I shake my head and close my eyes. “Just go Mammon.”

“Ari...”

“GO!”

My command echoes throughout the cavernous room, and I eventually hear Mammon’s footsteps recede at he leaves the throne room.

I shake my head in disgust.

I don’t belong here.

“Be careful my dear or you’ll shake something loose.”

I whip my head up and stare directly into a pair of bright green eyes, a mirror of my own. She looks different from the first time I saw her; her face is free of blue woad markings, and she’s wearing a plain black hoodie and a pair of jeans.

“Morrigan?!” I’m so shocked I can barely squeak out her name.

She gives me a cocky grin. “What kind of grandmother would I be if I didn’t show some support for my granddaughter’s marriage?”

“How are you here?”

“I’m ancient, not dead,” she replies dryly. “Just because I choose not to waste away down here doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally visit.”

“Morrigan why are you here? For real.”

Morrigan sighs and pauses a moment before finally answering my question. “I’m here to make sure you’re not making a mistake.”

“You think I’m making a mistake marrying them?” I bite my lip anxiously, afraid to hear her answer.

“It’s doesn’t matter what I think, it only matters if you think you are. And since I’m the only relative you have left I feel an odd sort of responsibility for you.” She shrugs one shoulder languidly. “So, do you think you’re making a mistake?”

“Maybe?”

Morrigan doesn’t say anything, just nods encouragingly.

“I had to leave a lot of things behind when Diavolo brought me here. And I had to give up even more to stay with them,” I say, trying to sort my thoughts.

“Do you love Mammon and Diavolo?” Morrigan asks softly.

“More than anything,” I answer.

“But you still feel resentful. Because you feel like Diavolo took choices away from you.”

I nod. “Yeah. That exactly.”

“I think it’s understandable that you feel this way,” Morrigan says slowly. “Diavolo yanked you out of your life without warning, and even though you’ve made a new life here, it’s natural to mourn your old one.”

I slump back into the throne. “So what do I do?”

Morrigan moves to stand next to me. “I can’t tell you that.”

She pauses, looking deep in thought for a moment before speaking again.

“I was on a trip to the human world when I met Ayden..........your grandfather. He was a force of nature, unlike anyone I’d ever met in the three realms. Stubborn. Fierce. A born warrior. At certain times you remind me of him so much.” She smiles at me sadly.

“I couldn’t come back here knowing that I would have to leave him behind. I tried once, but I only lasted a week. So I went back and stayed in the human realm. Ayden and I were married and eventually we had a son, Kane.”

She stops speaking, and I see her hands shake almost imperceptibly.

“I watched my family grow old while I didn’t age. I buried my husband, my son, my grandchildren.......... and it became too much, so I just faded away. I couldn’t stay with them, but I couldn’t return to the Devildom either. So I’ve just been wandering for a centuries, alone.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I finally whisper.

Morrigan is silent for so long I think she’s not going to answer me.

“Because even with all of the loss and the pain and the anger, I wouldn’t trade the time I had with my husband and my son for anything in the three realms.”

She turns to face me, staring directly into my eyes.

“And if I was given the gift of being able to have them with me forever.....” She swallows hard and blinks rapidly. “I know that you’re angry Arianthi, and you have good reason to be, but if you love those two even half as much as you say you do, don’t let that anger fester and rot your relationship. Don’t squander the gift Lilith and I gave you when we sent you back here.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“That’s my girl.”

I push myself up from my seat and shift back into my human form before gripping Morrigan in a tight hug.

“Oh!” She stiffens in surprise before clinging to me just as tightly.

“Thanks grandma,” I say with a smirk when she finally releases me.

She rolls her eyes good naturedly and gently cuffs the back of my head. “Like I said, you remind me so much of Ayden. Now go, to bed with you. You need your rest, especially now.”

She quirks an eyebrow at me and gives me a knowing look.

“Seriously?” I ask, exasperated. “Can a bitch have no secrets here?”

Morrigan grins. “Not from the old ones my dear; very little gets by us. Besides, it’s time to tell them isn’t it?”

I grumble a few choice words under my breath.

She reaches for my hand and squeezes softly. “I need to go before Arawn figures out I’m here. Go. Talk to them. Trust in yourself that you’ve made the right decisions.”

“Am I going to get to see you again? Outside of my existential crises and near death moments?”

“I’ll find you when you need me most,” Morrigan assures me, before she opens the doors to the throne room and slips into the hallway.

I wait a few minutes before leaving the throne room, shutting the doors firmly behind me and making a mental note to speak to Barbatos about the mess.

I’ll take care of it.

I climb the stairs to our bedroom and give a soft knock before hesitantly entering. Mammon and Diavolo are in bed; Diavolo’s head cradled on Mammon’s chest while he softly strokes Diavolo’s hair. They both eye me warily as they sit up.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, unwilling to meet their eyes. “I should have brought this up along time ago instead of blowing up at both of you like that.”

Diavolo gives me a soft look of concern. “I need to apologize as well princess. I didn’t consider the long term effects that the exchange program would have on a non-magical human. I was so enthusiastic about the program that I didn’t take into account that it would negatively impact your life in a very major way.”

He swallows hard and looks down, restlessly twisting the bed sheet between his large hands. “If you wish it I can speak to Barbatos and have him find the proper timeline so that he can....send you back. To before you came here. You could have your old life back.”

“What?” Mammon glares at him then worriedly looks at me, waiting for my answer.

“No.” I shake my head emphatically. “No, I don’t want to go back.”

Both demons sag against the pillows in relief.

I start anxiously twisting my engagement ring around my finger. “There’s something I need to show you both. It’s why started thinking about my old life and our future in the first place.”

“Ok baby,” Mammon says reassuringly. “Show us whatever you need to.”

Diavolo nods in agreement.

I dart into the closet and find the pictures I’d hidden in a giant pile of Mammon’s sweaters three weeks earlier. I walk back to Diavolo and Mammon, pressing a picture into each of their hands. I sit on the edge of the bed, anxiously waiting for their reactions.

Diavolo furrows his brow and delicately traces the sharp lines that rise and fall the length of his photo with one calloused fingertip. Mammon’s face mirrors Diavolo’s confused expression as he studies the glossy black and white picture in front of him. The carefully study each other’s photos before glancing back at their own. Mammon is the first one to put the pieces together.

“Baby are you....?” He looks at me with wide eyes.

Diavolo’s realization comes a few moments later. “Are we really...?”

I nod, a hesitant smile on my lips.

Diavolo cups Mammon’s face in his hands and gives him a sweet kiss before resting his forehead against Mammon’s. “We’re going to be dads,” he whispers reverently.

Diavolo leaps out of bed and sweeps me into a hug, spinning me in a circle and laughing. “You’re going to be a mom! We’re going to be parents!”

He gathers me in his arms and carries me to bed, gently settling me between Mammon and himself, immediately placing one hand on my stomach. Mammon gives me a soft kiss and rests his head on my shoulder, while Diavolo is practically vibrating with excitement next to me.

“We need to make an official announcement. The entire Devildom needs to know that there is a new heir on the way! We’ll need Barbatos to plan a celebration ball and there will need to be new royal portraits to add you three-”

As Diavolo speaks I find myself becoming more and more overwhelmed, his overbearing energy sweeping over me and causing a ball of anxiety to grow deep in the pit of my stomach. Mammon looks over at me and takes note of my panicked expression. He reaches over and grabs one of Diavolo’s hands.

“Oi! Ya need to calm down, you’re freaking out Arianthi!”

Diavolo instantly wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. “I’m sorry princess. What’s wrong? Tell me what I can do to make it better.”

“You could calm down for one,” Mammon says, impatiently raking a hand through his hair.

I nod in agreement. “I know that there are certain things that need to happen, but this is a lot to take in right now. And I’d really like to wait to make the announcement until a few weeks after the wedding.”

“Why? Everyone should know now; this is amazing news!” Diavolo frowns at me in disappointment.

“This is about more than just you,” Mammon grumbles, giving Diavolo a dirty look.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Dia, this is going to be a really big change for all of us. I’d rather not draw more attention than we absolutely have to. There’s already going to be enough speculation about the baby because of our relationship.” I look into his eyes, pleading with him to understand.

Diavolo shakes his head. “I don’t understand. What’s that supposed to mean? What’s wrong with our relationship?”

Mammon sighs in exasperation. “There’s nothin’ wrong with it. She just means that people are gonna be payin’ a lot of attention and gossipin’ about the baby, because there’s a damn good chance it could come out lookin’ like me.”

“We’ve already talked about this.” Diavolo’s face darkens and he scowls at Mammon. “This baby is ours, all of us together, no matter who the biological father is.”

“You really think everybody else out there is gonna see it that way?”

I shrink back into the pillows in an effort to stay out of the way of the two bickering demons.

I finally hesitantly speak up. “Does it matter to you guys? Would you want to know who-”

“No!” They exclaim in unison.

“Diavolo’s right,” Mammon reassures me. “It doesn’t matter. This baby is gonna be all the best parts of all of us no matter what.”

Diavolo hums in agreement. “I don’t care what the rest of the Devildom has to say about it. This is my child. You’ll be my wife and Mammon will be my husband. We’re a family, and I love all three of you unconditionally.”

He delicately strokes his fingertips over my stomach. “Hello little one. I’m your daddy.”

Mammon hesitantly reaches out and places his hand next to Diavolo’s.

“I’m not hurtin’ ya, am I?” He looks at me anxiously.

“Not at all,” I answer with a smile.

“That’s your papa,” Diavolo whispers conspiratorially to my stomach. “He’ll never admit it, but he worries a lot about me and your mommy. He’s already worrying about you too. It just means he loves you. You’ll get used to it.”

“You’ll get used to your daddy talkin’ too much and being bossy too,” Mammon grumbles with a slight smirk.

My eyes start to flutter closed, and I sink back into the pillows while Diavolo and Mammon continue to murmur endearments to their unborn child.

Morrigan was right. This moment, these three.......... they are worth everything.

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heyktula · 4 years

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Closer, Chapter Five: Aftercare - Bonus Features

Chapter five of Closer, the first installment in Somewhere in Canada (the Terror kink AU)... is now up! And with that--this installment is finished, and I'm all up in my feelings about it. (My various inboxes are always open in case you would like to be all up in your feelings in my direction.)

For the last time--technical notes first, story notes after, line notes to finish it all up.

Alright, here we go.

Technical Considerations:

Timing: So I put a lot of thought into what I wanted to cover for the rest of the weekend. We're at Sunday afternoon now, and the conference is coming to a close. There's some stuff that happens in the afternoon while they're packing up, there's some stuff that happens at the airport, but it gets to a point where plot is just, like, events that are happening on the page, you know? The actual story is the resolution of the arcs, and Edward and Jopson can resolve their arcs perfectly fine by going to their hotel room and fucking it out. I suspect we'll get bits and pieces of the missing bits--packing up the booths, actually getting onto the plane, and all that kind of thing--through the Tozer/Irving story anyways, since I don't think Tozer's arc is properly resolved until he makes it back to London.

(One could argue (correctly, I think) that the actual resolution of their arcs was probably the ability to successfully navigate through the aftermath of the dungeon scene, having the Ross scene go well, and generally the way that Edward and Jopson have tightened their orbit around each other over the course of the weekend, but it's nice to formalize that a bit, I think, by letting them fuck and have some casual non-sex time together just to verify that, yes, it isn't just about the sex or the BDSM, they are having a nice time together hanging out otherwise as well.)

POV Structure: Please forgive me my extra Jopson POV at the end, I needed it so that we could have one more chance at appreciating Edward's muttonchops, piercings, tattoo, and sweatpants dick, because Edward himself spends zero time thinking about any of these things, and they're all such very good things.

The Full Monty: So this is the first chapter in which they're both completely naked. Edward is fairly casual about his own nudity, so it wasn't really a thing for him--after all, Jopson has already seen his dick, and as Edward would be the first to tell you, the metal is about as exciting as it gets. (Jopson would argue that, I think.) The nudity wasn't really a thing for Jopson either--his body is his body--but Edward's reaction to his body is important. When I'm deciding whose POV certain events happen in, I try to select the POV where there's more feelings happening. So that meant that Jopson was getting naked in his own POV, which gives us that whole entire face journey Edward goes on, the brief distraction of poking Jopson's bruises, and then the rest of the clothing removal, bracketed with the visual of Edward standing there with his visible hardon and his hands behind his head. Technically, the "I'm not scared" dialogue is more important to Edward--Jopson just happens into the right words there--but since we already know that's a big deal for Ned from his prior POV, we can stay in Jopson's head for that here.

Story Considerations:

Comfort Reading: I'm pretty sure that Edward has read Foundation approximately nine million times. I also think this is the second or third copy of the book that he's on, because he keeps reading them to pieces. But I think that having a familiar book that he can just sink into instead of stressing about the whole entire ~~~convention experience~~~ is probably integral to him being a "reasonable human being" and not a "grumpy bastard" (thanks for that analysis, Tozer). I didn't think too hard about this--I just thought about Edward Little for point five seconds, and what kind of books he probably liked, and I thought about the Discovery Service, and science fiction, and then went--yeah, Asimov has the right blend of classic literature and hard science, and Autumn backed me up on it, so here we are. (I also should mention, because I saw some discussion of it on twitter and went wow I don't remember that that I was, um. Maybe fourteen the last time I read Foundation? So I think this is really a comfort read for Edward in that he's been reading and rereading it since about that age as well.)

(As an addendum, I feel like Edward probably has a carefully curated book collection back at his flat of books that are nice and new and pristine and I feel like he probably keeps his battered Asimovs, like, under his bed or something where nobody can see them. (As if he has visitors, lol.) Jopson, on the other hand, probably has a place on his desk for five or six books, because the bookshelf is being used for storage of other stuff, and the desk books are constantly rotating as he swaps paperbacks back and forth with his family.)

Edward's Hands: I do feel there's a very good chance Edward isn't going to be doing up any buttons. I also feel as though just getting his sweatpants on involved some profanity. The thing about masochism, though, is that when you're presented with a new sensation, such as going into a scene bare-handed instead of wearing gloves like you regularly do, often times the new sensation feels good even if it hurts, sooooo you keep doing it, and in Edward's case, he has that extra pressure of Trying Really Hard To Impress Jopson, so, yeah. He's gonna need some time to recover from that physically, and he won't be punching anything for a bit here.

Scene Planning: So the thing that I really love here, that's really not obvious unless you squint and look at the scene sideways, is that Edward had everything perfectly planned out when they were in the dungeon. He scouted out the area in advance. He had a chair handy to put Jopson's clothes on. He talked to the DMs in advance. And then everything went according to plan.

But you put the same man into a hotel room for fucking? He can't remember if he has lube or condoms. His sex bag is nowhere near the vicinity of the place they're having sex. (They don't even make it to the bed initially--Edward is eating ass on the floor, for fuck's sake.) When they finally get onto the bed with the sex bag, the contents end up scattered across the bed, and Edward still needs to get off the bed in order to retrieve the cock ring.

In short, give a man a dungeon and a scene to plan, and everything goes perfectly. Offer to fuck a man, and all planning immediately goes out the window. I mean, they had great sex. But Edward, sweetheart.

(And if we're talking about interpretations that happen when you squint? It's entirely likely that Edward doesn't actually have a whole lot of sex, usually, and that would definitely explain why he's much smoother on the mats than he is in the bedroom.)

The Second Collar: So, the second collar, rather deliberately on Edward's part, did not make an appearance. The first collar, the heavier one, is the type of collar that's used for play. It can be worn in regular kink spaces as well, but it's heavy, and a little bulky. And it's obvious that Jopson is taking comfort from it--he's reluctant to let go of it once he's taken it off to get into the shower with Edward, and it keeps showing back up again on his neck even though it's removed a couple of times throughout the course of the evening/night. The second collar, the fancier one that won't hold up to any kind of play, will be a lot more comfortable for Jopson to wear on a regular basis, but Jopson doesn't know that it exists, and Edward doesn't offer.

It's Significant that Edward is hanging on to that second collar, and if I was going to hazard a guess, I'd guess that Edward is working on a plan to make a formal gift of it at some point in the future. Formally giving someone a collar (as opposed to a collar that's just being used for play) usually signifies an arrangement between the people involved. Kind of like, you know, formally declaring yourselves partners, or whatever it is people do these days.

(As an aside--it could be considered rude that Jopson keeps putting the collar back on when they haven't discussed a formal arrangement outside of play, but Edward clearly doesn't see it that way, so there's no reason for it to come up. It's always better to ask for clarification re: collars, because sometimes there's a lot of symbolism involved with them, but sometimes a collar is just a collar.)

Line Notes:

“Would have been faster if you hadn’t kissed me in the car park,” Edward grumbles.

Trust Edward to find a way to be grumpy about makeouts. (To be fair, I think Edward was very pleased about the makeouts, and grumpy about subsequently having to adjust his dick in the car park just to be even moderately comfortable for the rest of the packing up.)

“Got something for you, if you want it,” Edward says.

I really like deep POV, because we know damn well from Edward's POV that he's been considering how to word this for hours and regrets this particular combination of words the moment it comes out of his mouth, but since we're in Jopson's head, Edward just looks like a proper alpha dominant, and it's hilarious.

He wants to kneel right here, get Edward’s trousers undone, open his—

Tom Jopson has a marked lack of aversion to public sex, and everyone should keep this in mind for *checks watch* six months from now in-universe, when they're back for the winter convention.

“Left my dicks back in London,” Thomas says, deadpan. He’s looking at Edward when he says it, trying to gauge the look on his face.

And if we squint and tilt our head sideways, this is another hint at ways in which relationships have gone wrong for Tom Jopson, and it's that same false dominant-sadist-top / submissive-masochist-bottom dichotomy we were talking about last week with poor Nedward. It's also an indication that Jopson hadn't really planned on hooking up with anybody this weekend at all--he came with his business hat on, ready to sell all of Francis' books, and bootblack for charity, and then, you know, work himself into exhaustion and not do anything other than casually flirt with--whoa, now, who's the pierced guy?

“That’s right,” Edward says softly. “You can handle this. You can handle what I’m doing to you. What I’m going to do to you.”

There it is--the resolution of that internalized kinkshaming that Edward was fighting with on Friday, in that it's no longer something Edward is questioning. He knows that Tom is good for it.

One of the really interesting things about the way this fic worked out is that the entire fic could have gone really differently if Hickey had applied himself to his shitdisturbing in the opposite order of the order that he chose--after he derailed Edward's panel, Hickey basically stepped back to let Edward self-destruct, and focused back in on Tozer, which left a huge open space for Jopson to step right into, and lo, the joplittle happened. If Hickey had stayed focused on Edward, he could have fucked Edward's entire weekend up, and neither the joplittle nor the solving* would have happened.

*Trust me on this, I swear it's related, and we'll get to it in the Tozer/Irving fic.

Jopson’s accent has shifted. It’s rougher, now. He wonders if this is how Jopson sounds at home, if this is how Jopson sounds with his family, if this is how—

There it is! The real accent, underneath the one that he taught himself! It's there! And he's letting Edward hear it!

“Face to face,” Jopson says quietly. This time, his eyes don’t shift away from Edward’s, and Edward loves him for it. “I know it’s not very, uh—”

JUST ASK FOR WHAT YOU WANT, TOM, please, you're hurting all three of my feelings here.

“You’ll have plenty of time to look,” Edward warns as he gets back onto the bed, hard cock swaying as he moves. “Takes me a bit to get a condom on over all this.”

I learned this while I was researching cock piercings. I don't know as I would actually want to learn how to get a condom on over all that, it seems like it's finicky and takes a long time. But, that being said, I'm not convinced they're going to stick with condoms for all that long either, Jopson is clearly ready to pretend he's never heard of them.

Edward shuts his eyes, strokes his cock. Reaches between his legs, tugs on the ring in his guiche piercing, pleasure curling up his spine. “Won’t be much of a show,” he manages.

Edward's not kidding about this--one of the downsides to a Prince Albert is that apparently it generally removes the ability to come with any sort of velocity, and everything just sort of...oozes out. We don't really directly see that here, because Edward's thinking about something else while he's coming, but it's implied in the next bit when Jopson is dragging Edward's come from his stomach up to his chest, ie, it didn't get there on its own, but Jopson is creating the aesthetic that he wants to see, so good for him.

“Might have marked you a bit, there,” he admits.

Jopson's fine by the time the poutine shows up, no worries. Edward slapped him pretty hard, but Jopson doesn't mark easily, so the redness on his cheek will fade.

“I’ll pinch if I have to,” Jopson says dryly. He glances into the shower. “...you’re not just using the hotel toiletries, are you?”

Edward was not, in fact, using the hotel toiletries, but he definitely is now. The jury is out as to whether Tozer took them on purpose or by accident, and, to be honest, I don't know which way the cookie is gonna crumble on that one! It'll be an adventure of discovery.

Eating and looking at him at the same time, with absolutely no care as to how he looks.

It's a love letter to the eating-out-of-a-can scene, yes, thank you for noticing.

“Oh thank god,” Edward says. He relaxes into Jopson’s lap, turns his head and nuzzles Jopson’s bare stomach. “I’d hate to think I’d made an ass out of myself for nothing.”

Only in Edward Little's head would 'confessing your deepest feelings to someone who clearly wanted to hear the confession' be translated as 'making an ass out of yourself'. There's a lot of things to be said in there about previous relationships, but ugh, I don't want to say any of them, they're not nice.

(Also, as an aside, Jopson didn't say it back--but, then, he didn't need to. The important bit is that Edward said it when he felt like he needed to, and Jopson will say it when he feels like he needs to, and they're going to be very happy together.)

"And let us not forget that you also stole the hotel key out of my trouser pocket in order to let yourself quietly back into the room, in order to…"

Jopson is a snoop and a thief and Edward wouldn't have him any other way. I think, in a lot of ways, Edward is used to people being too intimidated by him to play...and Jopson has made it quite clear, in this way and many other ways, that he's not scared, and that he's having a fun time, and he's carving out his own enjoyment, and that's really important.

And, uh. That's it, that's the fic!

I think this is the softest thing I've ever written with the hardest kink in it, haha. I'm really pleased with how it's turned out, though--I love kink conventions, I love BDSM, and I'm really passionate about the opportunities for valuable, committed relationships that don't follow the "standard" definition of what a relationship is and what it looks like. I think the thing Edward and Tom are carving out for themselves is intense, and more than a little weird, but I also think it's exactly what both of them want, and when it gets right down to it, that's the important thing. So there you have it.

I'm going to be drafting the Tozer/Irving fic next, since it chronologically overlaps with Closer, and then I'm going to draft the Fitzier, which takes place at the winter conference (ie, six in-universe months from Closer). Unfortunately, since I want to release them in the opposite order (Fitzier first, Solving second), there's probably going to be a bit of dead air for a while here.

The good news, though, is that Little and Jopson are living their best lives and don't have any major plot-related incidents over the next six months, so I'm free to release little one-shots of the various things they're up to while I'm drafting more longfics.

If you have any questions or anything, or you just wanna yell at me, I'm around! My inboxes are open! I spend more time on Twitter than I do on anything else, but I check my tumblr a couple times a day too.

Thank you for joining me on this journey. Closer (and the kink verse in general) are very near and dear to my heart, and I'm so happy that it's been warmly received.

#fic: closer #fic: the terror kink au #the terror #joplittle

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hollywoodx4 · 4 years

Text

First Sight-Eurydice (Modern AU)

hi, the best part of this detox was it giving me a LOT of time to write, and the fact that my screen time said I went down 86% this week so. A win all around. Here’s one piece of a two-piece little companion...thing...this is Eurydice seeing Orpheus for the first time. In the modern AU I have with my dear @dilforpheus who writes beautifully and is a wonderful human (and gives me a LOT of ideas.)

-------------------------------

I am not a tragedy, Eurydice huffs to herself, pulling her arm through the sleeve of an oversized cardigan. I am not a tragedy. She’s a fucking idiot.

She flings open the door of the academic aid center with as much strength as her tiny body allows. It slides open slowly with a dissatisfying hiss. She grunts, slings her half-opened backpack on her back and crosses her arms over her chest as she walks. Anger boils quickly to the surface of her mind, where the picture of the financial aid advisor who had been helping her lingers, unable to be moved. She’d looked over her file, tracing her finger along the screen of her computer monitor before nodding.

“Your semester should be paid for-it looks like the scholarship you received rolled over. And you received that for…”

“-having a suicidal mom.”

“Oh-okay, I,” The counselor had been flustered, continuing to scroll down. “This says that you should be set for a while, actually. The other fund,”

“Dad set aside a college fund when I was little.”

“And you’re emancipated?”

“He is.” Eurydice had shuffled in her seat, picking at the row of bracelets on her arm. She’d pulled one back and snapped it hard against her wrist. Through her peripheral she’d seen the usual; downturned lips, eyelids slightly closed, the shining in them, as if she’d been the one to go through losing both parents-as if she’d been the one bouncing from house to house, trading her body for shelter and the occasional warm meal. Her muscles tense.

“Are we done now?” She’d spoken through tight lips, shifting forward in her chair. The advisor had nodded and she shoot up from her chair, grabbing her jacket and backpack and cradling them in her arms. She was just about to move when the woman stood up from her desk, reaching out to touch a well-manicured hand on her arm.

“I really am sorry,” The familiar look of pity warped her features. Eurydice pulled her arm away, nodded quickly, and left before she could say whatever else was on her mind.

Her feet carry her briskly, heavily, as the bitter air of the brisk fall day bites at her heaving lungs. She continues her cursing, the inward monologue attempting to brush back the old feelings the questioning had brought to the surface. She had just wanted to make sure that she could continue here, on this familiar campus, halfway through her college education and back into the real world. She had time; time to sit and study, time to prove herself.

I really am so sorry. The voice is an old chant, basically a childhood lullaby. The sound of pity pops back into her head just as soon as it’s left. She hates the familiarity-hates the way the words attempt to wrap her in their embrace with no real attempt at helping her. They’d all been sorry, with their soft voices and hands on her hair, both when her mother had died and her father’s heart died along with her. They’d all said sorry, everyone around her. If they’d been truly sorry, if they’d cared, they would have seen what was happening before it was too late.

Eurydice pushes the thoughts away, concentrates on the sound of her heavy boots hitting the concrete pathway. Her feet carry her to the coffee shop-a tiny, shoebox of a place with a heavy wooden door and thickly framed photos of the campus hung in no semblance of order all over the walls. She ducks through the door, moves quickly to the counter and blurts out her order-espresso; espresso and dark coffee. She’s working at the diner tonight. This shift on a Tuesday night will bring about the round table of older women in bobbed haircuts asking her the same twenty questions about the menu-we’re all gluten free, we’re trying a new diet. Oh-croutons have gluten? Are you sure? They’d have copies of the same book open on the table, get mad when she asks them to move their books so she can put their food down. And then they’d leave cash, each holding out a wad of it from their purse. Somehow, there’s never enough for more than a 5% tip-never enough for her troubles.

She sits in her usual place-a nook in the corner of the room, close to the barista’s station but tucked away a bit, in a slightly worn leather armchair. Her coffee is steaming, bitter, the taste of waking up again as its heat crawls through her exhausted frame. She tucks her legs underneath her, opens her backpack and pulls out a textbook, cradling it in her lap before ducking in. This is a usual routine, the bustling of the shop making a good backdrop to the words on the page. The rush of students coming and going, the whir of the machines-the space feels safe, relaxed. The coffee isn’t the best, but it’s better than sitting at home, where her neighbors scream and the streets below are filled with shade and deceit. Here, Eurydice can focus on the words she’s reading, write notes and absorb information. Without the heightened sense of worry, there is space for growth. She basks in this.

“What’s your favorite?” She hears a voice bubbling above the usual chatter, lifted and pleasant. She feels her lips curve in a smile, continues reading. “I’m not sure-I think sweet. Maybe vanilla? Or maple? That sounds good.” The voice continues its musing, bringing her attention to its conversation. She can just barely make out the voice of the barista-it’s Kyle today, who looks her up and down and gives her two extra shots of espresso when he’s making the drinks. The voice decides on vanilla maple-sweet-and she looks up just in time to see him pass by.

He’s tall-not impossibly so, but comparatively to her own height. He’s all limb, long arms and legs, a thinned torso with a guitar strapped around his back. He’s dressed like he’s walked straight out of another decade, somewhere without proper lighting to match his clothing in the way the other men on campus do. He wears a white shirt with a few undone buttons, fitted loose. There’s a red bandana tied around his neck, and his pants are slightly dressy, yet a tad too big for his legs. He also wears suspenders-unironically, she assumes by the way they seem to pull into the aesthetic that ages him. It would age him, too, if it weren’t for his face-he exudes friendliness, sitting himself nearer to the center of the room and sipping on his iced coffee. He grins, waves at the barista and shouts a this is great over to the counter. He smiles then, a motion that consumes his entire presence, lights up the space around him. Eurydice feels the warmth of it, can practically see the world around him shift to accept it.

The boy draws another long sip from his cup and sets it down on the sturdy vintage table in front of him, shifting his weight so that he is sitting cross-legged on his own large leather chair, impossibly relaxed. He shifts his gaze for a moment, fingers switching back and forth idly before he begins to strum. She can barely hear it-the shop is full of chatter and rustling papers, laptop keys clicking and the whir of the espresso machine. He moves his lips, too, and her body shifts forward in a fruitless attempt to hear what he might be singing with such a concentrated expression. He looks satisfied with himself for only a moment-eyes closed, nodding-before reaching over his guitar to find a pen. He brushes back his hair, but it merely flops back into place. Then he’s writing in a small notebook, tip of his tongue poking slightly through parted lips as he makes hasty notes. She’s transfixed; his concentration, the deep sigh of his smile as he lets himself feel the music-She shakes her head then, wondering just how long she’s been watching him. In this space, where she comes every day for bitter coffee and a bit of peace, he is a newcomer. She wonders immediately where he’s been-why he’s chosen to come here today. She considers asking him, and then quickly stops herself and pulls her book back up, finding the place she’d been reading.

#Hadestown #modern au #Orphydice #i suppose #uh #here

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what-the--curtains · 4 years

Text

Braving the Elements

Chapter 15: Roman Defeated

Tw: Violence, Blood, Swearing

When you enter the facility

When the fight starts

A few days pass and with no activity on your monitors, you and Nat enter Romans cabin and remove any paper files marked as “Project X” from his office. You proceed to retrieve the surveillance cameras and pack up the truck to leave. You and Bucky hadn’t talked about the night you spent together. Neither of you knew why. You hoped he didn’t regret it, you knew you didn’t. You spend most of the ride home and most of the next day asleep, tired from the long shifts. Waking up at around 2pm you check your face in the mirror. The mark he'd left on your neck, the last bit of physical evidence of that night, has faded away. You make your way into the kitchen in sweatpants and a matching cropped sweater, hair done up in a bun. You find everyone else scattered between the kitchen and the living room. It seems like the missions went relatively smoothly, Roman hadn’t been at any of the houses. Though apparently Italy had had some problems based on the few bruises you can see on Sam and Clint's arms. Everyone’s managed to find the hard copies of the previously deleted files of which there were at least 60. At around 4PM you’re all called into the meeting room. Tony had sent copies of the files off to SHIELD in hopes that they would be able to piece them into a coherent report, but the originals were in the conference room spread across the long table. Taking a seat next to Wanda, you pick up a few of the files. You’re skimming through them when Shuri enters the room and pulls up a holographic of what appears to be the blueprints for some kind of fancy building.

“What is that?” you ask.

“That. Is what I found on one of those encrypted files you stole. It looks like it’s some kind of underground bunker.” she replies. “There’s two levels, the upper part seems to be various facilities, living rooms, gyms, bathrooms, etcetera, but the lower level is where they’re keeping the laboratories and medical bays.”

“Hidden in plain sight, allows him to do whatever he wants no questions asked.” You murmur.

“Do we know where it is?” Clint asks.

“Based on some shipment receipts we have a general idea, but we’ll need Sam to scan the area to get the proper locates. Now finding it should be easy enough, and since we have a floor plan of the facility we may even have an upper hand.” Tony explains.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever had the upper hand on Roman.” You state.

“You’re right we need to be prepared for anything.” Steve says.

“If we can bring him in alive, we could figure out where all the mutants in these files have gone.” Tony says, looking at you pointedly before repeating the word alive a decibel louder, but you’re not paying attention, you’ve noticed something in the files.

“There all alphas, looks like he’s even got some omegas.” you say skimming through the files

“They’re all what?” Vision asks, looking to Wanda for an explanation.

“The government classifies mutants into six general groups, epsilons,” Wanda starts

“Mutants with little to no powers but major physical presentation of the x-gene you’ll recognize them a mile away.” You explain.

“Deltas,” Wanda says, pausing in order to continue the back and forth exchange.

“Human presenting mutants with low level powers most of them don’t even know they have the gene. Asymptomatic carries if you will”

“Gammas”

“This is the base level of powerful mutants. They have powers yes, but they also have a distinct phenotypic presentation of the x-gene.” You see some of the people in the room looking confused “Phenotypic presentation meaning they present distinct physical traits. They’re often the most ostracized by you non-mutants. Think Beast, Mystic or Nightcrawler.” You clarify, unsure if the team knows who they are.

“Betas” Wanda continues.

“They’re just as powerful as Gamma’s, but they only have minor physical drawbacks, ones you won’t notice until you’re close up, like Wolverine, or Gambit.”

“Alphas,”

“Very powerful mutants with no phenotypic presentation of the gene some consider them to be the most dangerous because you can’t identify them, Wanda or myself, for example.” You smile at her.

“Then, then there’s omegas.” Wanda says

“These are mutants with the highest level of power. They’re also usually the ones with the hardest powers to control. The most dangerous of the alphas if you will. Jean, Magneto, Charles and Storm are all omegas, powerful ones.” You stop.

“So what does this mean? He’s gathering all the strongest mutants?” Sam asks.

“Looks that way.” Wanda says

“We’re going to need to take extra safety precautions. If they’re fighting with Roman they’ll be looking to kill, not wound, anyone who gets in there way” Tony says

“And what if they’re being held as prisoners?” Bucky asks, beating you to your own question.

“If they’re being held captive they may be angry, untrusting and ready to destroy anyone even if it's people looking to help.” You say “They’ll be scared and fear is dangerous, be careful when approaching them”

“Do we have any way of protecting ourselves?” Nat asks

“Yes,” Shuri pulls out a box with metal collars and a box of ammunition.

“These collars will ensure that whoever is wearing them has their powers disabled” she sees you give her a concerned look “just until we take them off I promise” she reassures. “Meanwhile, these are soaked with a heavy tranquilizer that knocks anyone out in seconds. I’ve hooked them up to best suit your weapons of choice.”

“How do we know it’ll knock out a mutant?” Peter asks.

“Well I tested it on my brother and it knocked him out for a good 5 hours, superpowers and all.” She says grinning from ear to ear causing you all to laugh.

Steve goes over the plans. “Alright troops, we’ll be proceeding into the building through the four main entrances as indicated on the map. We want to make sure that each team has at least one person trained in military combat leading the attack. So, Y/N you’ll go ahead with Wanda and Peter through the back entrance here. Myself and Tony will enter from the left, while Bucky and Sam will come up on the right. Nat, you’ll take Clint and Vision through the front. We’ll maneuver through our quadrants before meeting back here, at the center of the second level. From there we can continue our sweep of the building. Remember, we are not going in to kill, we need Roman alive in order to get information. Any prisoners are not to be harmed, you find them, you wait and Y/N and Wanda will go and make the call. Get your stuff together, we fly in 15.”

Throwing your arsenal into a bag and getting changed you make your way over to the jet.

You throw your duffel bag up to Sam, and he almost drops it underestimating how heavy it was going to be.

“Jesus what’s in here? A body?” he huffs.

“A lady never reveals her secrets” you say, placing your finger over your lips and making a shushing gesture causing Sam and Peter to giggle. You go to hoist yourself up but struggle as the jets entrance was higher off the ground than you had anticipated. Suddenly, two hands grab your waist and lift you up with familiar ease allowing you to reach Sam’s hand. He pulls you up asking you what’s got you all hot and bothered. You shoot him a death stare, leading him to lift his hands up as he walks away mumbling about how he was sorry for asking. You turn around and pull Bucky up “Didn’t think anything could fluster you.” he said quietly with a smile as he passes by, causing you to become even more flustered. What the hell was that all about? You think taking your seat next to Tony and clipping in your seatbelt.

“How was Russia?” Wanda asks while sitting with Visions arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“Fucking cold.” you reply, not making eye contact with Bucky, Nat or Steve afraid you may reveal yourself “Next time Tony we’re pulling name outta a hat so you can’t rig it.” He laughs and the flight takes off

“So what can we expect with this guy Roman?” Peter inquires.

“Well he doesn’t fight fair that’s for sure, but he never does any of his own dirty work he likes to be kept clean I honestly think he’s a germaphobe but I digress. Lots of brutes, usually without superpowers unless bashing someone head in with a baseball bat counts as a power. I don’t know if he’ll even be there.” You say tightening the strap of the holsters around your thighs and clipping your arm bands into place.

The jet lands a few blocks away from the supposed site. It’s a ghost town, run-down buildings that have been partially destroyed, potholes, broken glass, overlapping graffiti on every surface. This wasn’t Romans usual extravagant taste. What was he up to? He always wanted his accomplishments to be on display. Why was he hiding this one?

“Sam, you see anything up there?” Tony asks.

“Scanning one sec. Alright we’ve got a hit, under the old movie theater by the looks of it.” He responds, landing next to you.

“Get into teams, let’s get this asshole.” Bucky says, loading up his machine gun with the knockout bullets Shuri had made. Before you split up he looks over to you,

“Don’t do anything stupid, lots of people here would miss you if you died.”

“Are you including yourself on that list?” you ask, as you load up your own gun. He walks behind you placing a hand on your waist and whispers “What the hell do you think.” Before walking off towards Sam.

You, Wanda and Peter enter from the back. You lead them through the maze of hallways wielding a machine gun checking left and right into any doorways. You knock out the guards with the tranquilizer bullets and once they’re down Peter webs them up to the wall, ensuring they won’t be going anywhere. No signs of any mutants yet. You reach a hallway that diverts off to the side. Holding up your fist you stop before motioning to your two teammates to continue up the hallway while you check it out. You're about to clear the hall when you feel something thwack you in the back of the head, you must have missed a door. You drop your gun and turn around to see none other than your old driver Calvin holding a pistol to your head.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do this.” He smiles cocking the gun. Before he can pull the trigger a ball of light hits him in the back. You look up to see Wanda standing behind him. You grab your gun and she pulls you up “Old friend of yours?” she asks, while Peter webs up Calvin. You exit the hallway and continue down your path until you reach a door that none of you recognize from the blueprints. “Sam you there?” Wanda asks into the earpiece

“What’s up.” He whispers.

“Send us your scan of the building we’ve reached undocumented territory.”

Wanda pulls up the blueprints. “It looks like this leads to a lower level.”

“Alright, were going in.” you say

“Be careful. Once we're done we’ll head your way. Send us your current location.” Steve’s voice commands.

“Copy.” you respond. Lifting your gun you proceed down the narrow hallway, single file.

You turn the corner, another door, you open it quickly scanning the room for potential threats. You turn on the lights revealing a large empty room, lowering your weapon you take in your surroundings. Then, you hear a clatter and fog canisters roll out in front of you reducing your visibility now unable to see even a few feet in front of you. You hear a crash and see a burst of red light in the fog. “Wanda” you whisper yell “Peter?”. You don’t shoot at the noise, not wanting to hit your two friends. The fog slowly begins to lift revealing Wanda and Peter chained to the floor by their wrists. You bend over to try and break them, but you can’t.

“Look out!” Peter warns. You turn around to see a man, you recognize his face but couldn’t quite remember his name. You blink and then there's 15 of him, carbon copies encircling you.

“ What the…” you start before being interrupted by the echo of slow claps coming from behind the multiples.

“Together at last! How I’ve missed you my freak of nature” a familiar voice calls out

“Now Romy is that any way to speak to an old friend?” you say through gritted teeth, standing up to face him.

“Friends don’t burn down each other’s building, steal from them and kill their guards” he shouts

“Ouf well I guess friends don’t really own each other either?” you snap back.

“Agree to disagree.” he says, finally appearing behind the multiples, sending him? them? back out to guard the door. The 15 men turn back to 1 and exit the room.

“Why are you even here Romy? It’s not like you to do grunt work. And besides, you know you can’t beat me” You exclaim raising your gun and taking aim.

“Maybe not under the usual circumstances, but recently I’ve been feeling like I’ve turned over a new leaf” he says. A burst of light leaves his hands and hits you hard in the stomach knocking the wind out of you. You topple over dropping the gun as you fall.

“But you see your powers are useless here, no water, no fire, no earth in sight.” He continues, kicking down hard on your back, splaying you across the floor. “And my new powers allow me to use electrical energy as a weapon. Isn’t that just so fun!” he kicks the gun away from your reach and lifts your chin up with the tip of his shoe

“Impossible.” You mutter trying to understand what you had just seen, he wasn’t a mutant.

“Not when you know the right people.” he laughs.

“I didn’t miss a room, you gave Calvin powers as well, how?”

“All in good time, but for now you’re going to come with me or I’m going to kill your little friends here as well as all the others currently sweeping the upper levels.” He says as you push yourself off the floor.

“Alright go ahead,” you stand up and make your way over to the door, “see if I care. You obviously need me alive so i'm gonna walk right outta here unharmed”

“Guess you’re still only looking out for number one” he says following behind you

“Always have been” you say, grabbing the handle of the door. “Oh and Romy.” you turn to face him

“Yes darling?” He asks with a snarl.

“Are you really as stupid as you look?” you ask.

“What?” he scowls.

“Do you really think we showed up here without a backup plan?” You knock him down with a gust of air, as he hits the floor he yells for his guards. One tries to grab the door handle, but you ignite your arm bands and touch the knob scolding the man’s hand badly, you can smell the burnt flesh as you let go. Using the water converter technology installed into your suit by Shuri you throw water over the chains confining your two friends, freezing it as it hits the metal. You walk over whacking the chains with the butt of your gun causing them to shatter. You help them up. “Nice acting.” Wanda says rubbing her wrists “Seriously where’s your Oscar?” Peter asks. “Aww thanks guys, you know maybe I should quit my day job!” you start, but quickly realize you have bigger fish to fry as the multiplier and several others enter into the room.

Wanda knocks down three of them with a single blast as Peter works on taking down another two. You're squaring off against a guy who must have superhuman strength, based on his height and intense muscles. “You know there is such a thing as too much of a good thing, seriously what are you on steroids?” You shoot at him but he catches the bullet and crushes it proving your theory. You drop the gun and run at him. Sliding between his legs you jump on his back , pulling out your knife you jab it into his shoulder and he lets out a yelp of pain. At least you knew he could bleed. You manage to wrestle off his helmet, as he reaches around to pull you off, you bite him. This makes him even angrier. He grabs you off his back and throws you against the wall. He’s learning over you as you attempt to make a grab at a knife, he steps on your wrist lifting his foot he aims at your head, you brace for impact. All of a sudden you hear a gun fire and the guy turns to face the shooter, Bucky. The rest of the crew have arrived just in time to help with the other guards. While the muscle man starts towards the winter soldier you grab the knife on the floor and slash the guy's Achilles causing him to fall to the ground. “Thanks for that.” you say wiping the blood of your knife “Right back at you, I was 10 seconds away from being a pancake.” he smiles at you before shooting down two of the guards. It doesn’t take long for you guys to take the rest of them out. Roman’s started moving towards the door amidst the chaos but he doesn't get far before one of Clint's arrows hits him in the leg. Still trying to drag his body out of the room you walk over to him and lift up his head by his hair “You seriously thought you and your run of the mill abusers could take down a team of nine superheroes.”

“Hero? Is that what you think you are? Your hubris will be your downfall.” He says spitting in your face before passing out.

“You get your touch for the dramatic from him?” Sam chuckles.

“Did you know he had powers?” Peter asks, while Bucky lifts up Romans limp body.

“That’s the thing he didn’t use too. Wanda, did you see any doors in that hallway where Calvin tried to kill me?” You say wiping the spit off your face.

“Where who tried to do what to you?” Bucky asks loudly.

“No. You think he had them as well?” Wanda responds, ignoring Bucky’s concern. You shrug.

“So how did he...” Tony starts.

”I don’t know.” you shake your head in confusion. “Someone call Shuri. I have a feeling she’s the only one who can crack this.”

#bucky x oc #bucky x reader #bucky x you #avengers fanfiction #braving the elements #bucky barnes #Spotify

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trashcanreddiefan · 4 years

Text

The 2nd Annual Losers' Club Christmakkah Celebration

Summary: The Losers gather for their second annual Christmakkah celebration, and there is a special gift under the tree with Richie’s name on it.

Word Count: 2800-ish

Warnings: None whatsoever. This is pure fluff.

Author’s Note: Post-Chapter 2. All of the Losers are alive in this fic, including Stan, because canon can suck it. 2nd in a (at least) 3-part series where the Losers take turns hosting Christmakkah. Part 1 here.

CROSS-POSTED AT AO3.

“I checked in for our flight to Atlanta,” Richie said as he walked into the kitchen where his boyfriend, Eddie, was currently leaning down and peeking in on something that was baking in their oven. He wrapped his arms around Eddie. “Mmm. Something smells delicious.”

“I’m making a lasagna,” Eddie replied, straightening up and turning to greet Richie.

Richie planted a kiss on the top of his head before nuzzling his neck. “I meant you, babe.” He gently grazed Eddie’s pulse point with his teeth before soothing the spot with his tongue. “Taste even better.”

Eddie shivered, then leaned back with a smile. He tilted his head up for a proper kiss. “Hi.”

“Mmm. Hey yourself. How was your thesis presentation?”

“Good, really good. Dr. Cubillas seemed really happy with my research and asked me if I’d be interested in a TA position once I start the Master’s program next semester.”

Richie grinned. “Eds, that’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you, babe.”

“Thanks, Rich. I know my savings won’t last forever, so I’m glad I was able to get this 2nd Bachelor’s so quickly and it’d be good if I could make some extra money working for the university while pursuing my Master’s. Plus then I wouldn’t be up to my eyeballs in student loan debt after I graduate since my tuition would be covered.”

“Eds, I told you, if you need money I’ll give it to you, however much you need. I’d have zero problem with being your sugar daddy.”

Before Eddie could even protest, he added, “but I know how much your financial independence means to you, so just know the offer stands. I love you and I’m willing to support you in whatever way you need, be it financial, emotional, physical…” he trailed off as his hands slid down to palm Eddie’s ass, giving both cheeks a hearty squeeze.

Eddie shook his head fondly. “I love you too, Richie. And thank you.” They stood there in silence for a bit, just enjoying being in each other’s arms.

Richie could hardly believe that this was his life. Less than a year ago he had thought that he would be destined to be in lifelong (not counting the 27-year-long asshole clown-induced amnesia) unrequited love with his married, straight childhood best friend. But during the Losers’ first Christmakkah celebration, Eddie had not only announced to the Losers that he had divorced his wife and quit his job, but he had also told Richie privately that he was moving to Los Angeles to go to nursing school, and – the best news of all – that he was in love with Richie.

So now, a year later, Richie stood in his kitchen with the love of his life in his arms, getting ready to fly out to Stan’s house for their 2nd annual Losers’ Christmakkah Celebration.

Finally, Eddie reluctantly extracted himself from Richie’s embrace. “I need to get the lasagna out.”

“Ok, babe. I’m gonna go shower before dinner.” Richie gave Eddie one last kiss before heading to their bedroom.

He had just stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself when Eddie called out, “Hey, Rich?”

“Yeah?” Richie replied, walking into their bedroom from the connecting bathroom.

Eddie stood by their bed. “The teddy bear you ordered for Olivia just came in.”

Olivia was Stan and Patty’s 3-month-old daughter and the first of a new generation of Losers. She had Stan’s curly hair and Patty’s nose, and already had her uncles and aunt wrapped around her finger.

“Ok great, thanks.” Richie walked over to Eddie and wrapped his arms around him.

“I already got it in a bag and put it in the suitcase with the rest of Liv’s gifts.”

“Ok so that should be it, right? I have Bill’s gift in my suitcase and you said you had Mike’s gift shipped directly to Stan’s, right?”

This year, instead of deciding not to exchange gifts (since last year they tried that and everyone wound up bringing presents regardless) the Losers had decided to do a “holiday gift exchange” where each Loser was randomly assigned one of the others’ names and bought that person a gift.

Richie had been assigned Bill, and in true Richie fashion had bought him a copy of Save the Cat Writes a Novel as a gag gift. (He had also bought him a first edition copy of Dracula as his actual gift; Richie was a bit of a prankster, but he wasn’t a complete asshole.)

Eddie glanced over at his suitcase. “Yeah, just so it’s less that we have to carry. You’re all packed then?”

Richie quirked an eyebrow and bit back a grin. “Well no, that’s what I have you for.”

“Wait a minute, you mean our flight leaves in less than 15 hours and you’re not packed yet?” Eddie’s voice went up in pitch with each word.

Richie couldn’t keep a straight face. “Eds, babe, I’m kidding, calm down. I packed a couple of days ago according to the list you gave me. Even folded my shirts and everything.”

“That was so not funny.” Eddie glowered at him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Mmm, true,” Richie said sincerely, pulling Eddie even closer and tucking his head into Eddie’s neck. “I’m the luckiest motherfucker alive.”

He could feel the residual tension leave Eddie’s body. “Now, I take it that dinner’s ready, and not only that but we have an early flight to catch, so let’s eat and get ready for bed.”

____________________________________________________________

“…This is your captain speaking. I’d like to personally welcome you to Atlanta, Georgia.The time is 2:40 pm and the temperature is 61 degrees. On behalf of all of us, thank you for flying Delta.”

Richie pulled out his phone and shot off a text to Stan as soon as he and Eddie deplaned. Eds and I just landed. On our way as soon as we get our luggage.

Stan the Man: Ben & Bev and Mike are already here and I think Bill & Audra’s flight should be arriving in about an hour and a half.

Stan the Man: Eddie has our address. See you guys soon.

Richie put his phone away as he & Eddie made their way to baggage claim to collect their luggage, and soon they were on their way to Stan and Patty’s house.

Upon arriving they hauled their suitcases up Stan’s porch steps and rang the doorbell.

Stan answered the door. “Hey, guys. So glad you could make it.”

“Staniel! How’s it going?” Richie gave Stan a quick hug before turning to Patty, who was holding Olivia. “Patty, looking beautiful, as always. And how’s my favorite niece?” he cooed at Olivia.

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Beverly said jokingly as she entered the room, rubbing her growing stomach. “As I’m sure do Bill and Audra.”

Richie gave her a peck on the cheek. “Well, considering both you and Audra are having boys, Liv will continue to be my favorite niece. But don’t worry, whoever gets named after me will get the title of favorite nephew.”

“Well too bad for you then, huh?” Bev laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone knows that Uncle Richie will spoil Little Benson and Wilson just as much as I spoil Olivia.”

“I’m sure you will,” Eddie said coming up from behind him and giving Beverly a hug and a peck on the cheek as well. “Bev, how have you been feeling?”

“Just fine,” Beverly answered. “Baby’s doing great.”

“So where’s that gorgeous husband of yours?” Richie asked.

Beverly grinned. “You know how he & Mike are when they get together. They’re looking at pictures from Mike’s trip to New Orleans last month. Appreciating the architecture.”

Richie snorted. “Nerds.”

“Let me show you guys to your room,” Stan said. “I know you both probably want to take a nap and a shower before the festivities tonight.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but a nap does sound wonderful,” Beverly added. “I’m still a bit jet-lagged.”

Stan led them to one of the spare bedrooms with its own private bathroom. “We’re planning on dinner at six, so you guys can come down at any time.”

“Oh, hey, what are we doing with the gifts?” Richie asked. “We have some for Olivia and I have my exchange gift.”

“I think we’re putting them by the Christmakkah tree,” Stan said. “Thanks for the menorah ornaments, by the way.”

Richie grinned. “I couldn’t pass them up.”

Eddie grabbed the suitcase with the gifts before Richie could get to it. “Here, Rich, why don’t you go ahead and rest and I’ll go put the gifts under the tree? I’ll be right back.”

Before Richie could answer Eddie was carefully wheeling the suitcase back downstairs.

Richie shook his head fondly. That’s my Eddie.

As much as Eddie had changed over the past 27 years, at his core he was still Eddie. He was still the same neurotic, foul-mouthed, caring little shit that Richie had fallen in love with all those years ago.

I want to spend the rest of my life with him.

The thought shouldn’t have surprised Richie – after all, he had had the same thought once before when they were teenagers – but now, now, he could; that is, if Eddie would have him. Does Eddie even want to get married again?

Although they were 100% committed to each other, marriage wasn’t exactly something they had talked about.

Still, Richie let his mind wander, thinking about going out and buying a ring, planning the perfect proposal (maybe the day Eddie got his Master’s degree? Richie wasn’t sure he could wait any longer than that), sliding the ring onto Eddie’s finger…

He was still thinking when Eddie came back into the room. “Okay, Olivia’s gifts are all set out, and we really should’ve gotten something for Ben & Bev and Bill & Audra’s kids, maybe each like a onesie or something.”

He walked over to Richie and lay down next to him on the bed, noticing the obviously sappy look on Richie’s face. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Marry me, Richie thought, but instead said, “God, I love you.”

Eddie’s face instantly softened. “I love you too.”

“I’m so proud of you, you know that?” Richie continued. “I know the past year hasn’t been easy but you’ve kicked ass and managed to get your nursing degree in 3 semesters–”

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, only because all the anatomy and health classes I took the first time I was in college managed to transfer once I tested out of them, not to mention the fact that I took the max number of hours each semester and also took summer classes while you were on tour instead of going with you.”

“And not only that, but you received your degree with a 4.0 and was offered a TA position when you start the graduate program next semester.” Richie scooted closer and rolled his hips into Eddie’s. “Mmm, just thinking about playing nurse with my brilliant boyfriend is getting me all hot. Can’t wait to call you ‘Nurse Kaspbrak’ in bed.”

Eddie’s face contorted in an adorable combination of rage and laughter. “You had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”

Richie laughed. “No but really, I’m so fucking proud of you, Eds and I’m honored to be along for the ride.”

“Thank you, Rich. I’m glad you’re part of it too.” Eddie gave him a peck on the tip of his nose. “Now rest, we’ve got an exciting night ahead.”

__________________________________________________________

After a few hours’ nap Richie woke up to an empty bed but could hear the shower running.

He contemplated drifting back off to sleep when he heard the shower shut off and the bathroom door open. “Rich? You awake? It’s 5:15.”

Richie stretched and ran a hand through his messy hair, grabbing for his glasses as he sat up. “Yeah, babe, I’m up.”

Eddie gave him a quick kiss. “I’m gonna get dressed and head downstairs to see if Stan and Patty need help with anything while you’re in the shower. Meet you down there?”

Richie nodded, then slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom, where he took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and got dressed in the outfit Eddie had laid out on the bed for him – a soft lime green cashmere sweater and a pair of jeans – and headed down the stairs, where he rounded the corner to see all the Losers together.

He greeted Ben and Mike, then Bill and Audra, placing a gentle hand on Audra’s stomach when she asked him if he wanted to feel the baby kick.

He turned when he heard the click of a camera and looked up to see Eddie putting his phone away. “Blackmail photos?” he said jokingly. “Come on, Eds, all you have to do is ask in order to get me in more compromising positions.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Gotta document you being cute since it happens so rarely.”

After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room for their gift exchange. Richie took a sleeping Olivia while Stan and Patty opened her gifts.

The Losers gifted her with various toys, clothes (“I’m thinking about starting a children’s clothing line,” Beverly explained when Patty pulled a beautiful hand-stitched dress out of a gift bag), and other necessities for a baby.

Richie looked down when Olivia stirred and blinked her eyes open. “Well hello, princess,” Richie cooed. “You decided to wake up for Uncle Richie?”

He grinned as Olivia smiled at him. “Aww look, Eds, she’s smiling at me! Yes, you think Uncle Richie is funny, don’t you?”

“She’d be the only one,” Stan said dryly as he took her in order to change her now that she was awake.

“Hey, I will have you know that all of my jokes are now Eddie-approved,” Richie replied.

Eddie shrugged. “What can I say, his stand-up has improved since firing his writer.”

Once Stan had come back and set Olivia in her bassinet, it was time for the adults to exchange gifts.

Once Bill, Audra, Ben, Bev, Mike, and Patty (who had Patty, Ben, Eddie, Audra, Stan, and Bev, respectively) all had gone, Stan stood. “I had Mike,” he announced, before handing Mike his gift.

Richie glanced over at Eddie, who was studying the hem of his sweater as if it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. He opened his mouth to say something to Eddie when Stan interrupted. “Rich, you want to go next?”

Richie glanced to where 7 pairs of eyes were staring at him. “Uh, yeah, ok.”

He stood and handed Bill’s gift to him. “Merry Christmakkah, man.”

Bill laughed at the copy of Save the Cat. “I figure it’ll help you learn how to write an ending,” Richie joked.

“Thanks, Richie. This is so great.”

Richie sat back down on the sofa and Stan turned to Eddie. “Eddie, it’s your turn.”

Eddie went to the tree and grabbed a wrapped present. “I really did have it shipped here so you wouldn’t be nosing in the closets trying to find it.”

Richie ripped open the wrapping paper. “Eds, baby, this is fantastic! Thank you so much.” Eddie had bought him a new Bluetooth-enabled, all-in-one record player.

“There’s um, there’s something else, too,” Eddie said, heading back to the tree.

Richie watched as Stan and Eddie seemed to have a silent conversation before Eddie nodded, picking up a small, light blue gift bag. He silently handed it to Richie.

“Aww, thanks, babe.”

Richie untied the white ribbon that was keeping the bag shut, stuck his hand inside…

… And pulled out a note.

“Uh, Eds, baby, it’s customary to give the gag gift BEFORE giving the real gift,” he said jokingly.

“Just read it,” Eddie replied. He seemed nervous.

Richie unfolded the note. In Eddie’s neat handwriting were 5 words:

Richie, will you marry me?

What. He looked up and froze.

Eddie was down on one knee in front of him, a platinum ring in his hands.

Richie blinked. “Eds?”

Eddie took a deep breath. “Richie, exactly one year ago we took one of the biggest leaps of our lives together. Will you take another with me tonight and make me the happiest man alive?”

Richie’s eyes filled with tears. “Fuck yes,” he said, then pulled Eddie to him for a kiss.

Cheers and congratulations filled his ears.

Eddie slid the ring onto his finger. “I love you so much,” he whispered against Richie’s lips.

“I love you too.”

In the meantime, Stan and Patty had grabbed a bottle of champagne (sparkling grape juice for Bev and Audra) and had poured everyone a glass. “A toast!” Stan declared. “To Eddie and Richie: May you be friends to each other as only lovers can; and may you love each other as only best friends can. Mazel tov!”

“Mazel tov!” everyone else echoed as they raised their glasses.

Richie looked around at his friends – no, his family – as they all took a sip of their drinks, then down at Eddie, who was looking up at him with the same love and admiration that Richie himself felt for Eddie.

“Merry Christmakkah, Rich,” Eddie said softly.

“Merry Christmakkah, Eds,” he whispered before leaning down and connecting his lips to his fiance’s.

#Richie x Eddie #Reddie #tcrf writes

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