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kuroshitsuji-scenarios · 9 months

Text

Commission – Bestseller

Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x Reader

Words: 4,363

Prompt: Sebastian makes a contract with someone who wants to become the world’s bestselling author. This time, however, he's willing to spice things up a little.

Warnings: None.

[ commission me ]

At first, you wanted to shout: “Go to hell!” but quickly found it quite ironic and eventually sat back down, picked your pen up and pretended to be writing something in the notebook, while the only thing that appeared on the blank pages were curly lines. Honestly, you could hardly recall the last time you met someone who’d be as eager to get on your nerves as the man who was now standing in front of you. The smirk on his lips only proved that the whole conversation you just had went according to his sly plan and in the end he was gratified with your outburst of emotions. Not a very common occurrence, he had to add, and therefore even more pleasant to observe.

“My, my”, he shook his head in a disappointed manner, as if he was scolding a child. “I wasn’t aware that this kind of information will have such an impact on you. Could it be that you’ve grown worried?”

“Worried?” You shot him a deathly glare. “I’m not worried. I’m angry and I’m starting to consider which side you are actually on. What made you think that killing (or whatever happened to that journalist) was such a bright idea?”

The demon smiled, the expression on his face clearly amused as the whole situation seemed to be rather entertaining for him. It’s been a long time since he actually gave his new contractor a little push—not to the right side, of course, but rather to watch you struggle and keep the balance as you always did in the end. It was almost as funny as listening to people beg for their lives, while all of them knew that there was no coming back once he was summoned.

“Sebastian,” you hissed his name through the gritted teeth. “Answer me.”

“Well, I must disagree with you on using the term ‘bright’ regarding this little incident.” He pretended to be lost in thoughts, touching his chin and looking at the wall of your office where all the prizes, photographs taken with famous people of literary business and newspaper articles were framed and hung on display for everyone to see what you were capable of when it came to using an imagination and pen. Or keyboard, as it was nowadays. “I’d rather go for ‘enticing’. ‘Compelling’, perhaps. ‘Thrilling’ even. ‘Enjo—”

“That’s enough.” You interrupted his speech, considering it pointless and a waste of your precious time. “I don’t care why you did that, I want you to stop. You’re perfectly aware that I’ve been giving interview after interview for the last two weeks and I’m going to continue doing that no matter what kind of dirty games you decide to play behind my back.”

“How threatening…”

“Moreover,” You pointed a finger at him. “If you keep doing this, I’ll have the right to consider it as acting against the rules of our contract.”

“There was not a single rule included which could prevent me from adding a little spice to the generally boring outcome of events. I thought you were aware of that. Signing books, doing interviews, all of that blown to make your ego grow until it pops.” Sebastian clicked his fingers to highlight the meaning of his words. “Like a bubble.”

“Hilarious.” You couldn’t frown no more even if you tried. “Now let's get back on topic. I forbid you to interrupt my hard work with your silly, little demon games. You’ll have your reward in the end so right now you’re only wasting your own time, because no matter what you do, I simply won’t give up. It can take the next forty years to complete while you’re stuck here with me, it doesn’t matter. So if you want to finish it quickly, I’d recommend you getting out of my way.”

There was a spark of amusement behind the demon’s eyes as he carefully observed you—as if something in your words struck him in a pleasant way. Undoubtedly, he made a good choice while deciding to answer this new contractor.

“That’s exactly what I meant while speaking about the lack of something enticing,” he admitted before turning on his heel and heading out of the office, his fingers intertwined behind his back and the corners of his lips turned upward in an eerie smile.

Pouring rain hitting the windows reminded you of a thousand fingers patting the glass in an unrhythmical manner. Focusing on a single droplet sliding down to the window frame didn’t help you concentrate, especially not with the pleasant silence now filling your bedroom up nor the fact that the last time you allowed yourself to rest was more than nineteen hours ago. Your body was giving you more significant signs of exhaustion with every passing minute and yet, you didn’t want to waste any of your time. Not when you’ve gotten to the perfect plot twist of your upcoming story—the second volume of the world’s bestseller book sold in millions of copies all around the globe. Although your success was guaranteed, you couldn’t simply sit and do nothing while waiting for applause.

You jolted when the sudden thud hit the glass right next to the desk where you were sitting. It was loud, like a lost pigeon didn’t notice the window and flew into it at full speed but when you stood up to check whether it was hurt, laying somewhere near, it was impossible to notice any sharp shapes in the downpour. Perhaps it flew away or maybe it was just your brain tricking you into finally going to bed. Whatever it was, eventually it made you close the laptop and rub your tired eyes until you saw the stars behind the eyelids—and when you opened them again, you found out that the shadow in the corner of the bedroom is unusually dark compared to the rest.

Almost as if there was a tall, slim figure standing there, facing the wall, covered in black robes.

Your initial reaction was paralyzing terror. Blood ran down from your face and in the next moment blew in your heart causing your cheeks to immediately heat. You could only sit there, watching the silhouette with unblinking eyes as your mind wanted to scream, to run, to fight, to—

“Sebastian.” The demon’s name left your lips almost involuntarily, just like shouting ‘help!’ came naturally to the drowning man. “I order you to stop this nonsense immediately.”

At first, nothing happened and for a moment you thought that maybe you weren’t even in your bedroom anymore, that the image in front of you was but a photograph glued to your face while the real you was dead, burning and bleeding and shrieking and—

“My, my…” You blinked at the sound of a familiar voice and the shadow from the corner was gone; surprisingly, you could also breathe freely again. “There’s no fun with you…”

Instead of the terrifying derealization, you were once again safe in your bedroom, everything in its own place. By the door, however, stood Sebastian with the same amused smirk on his handsome face, as if it was the only genuine emotion he was actually capable of showing.

“Fun?” You stood up from the chair, your fingers still slightly trembling after the heavy anxiety attack.

“I was worried that you might get some kind of… writer’s block, as they say,” he stated and nodded matter-of-factly. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you losing your spirit.”

Oh, how much you wanted to rip that happy expression off his face. Or maybe slap him. Or both. In all honesty, you could do it by giving him a simple order and yet, it didn’t feel right. What kind of satisfaction would you get from simply forcing him into your own will instead of actually making him feel a certain way? The leash you got him on was rather long, as the demon was almost free to roam around and do as he pleases, and maybe that was why you found those rare moments of his confusion so precious.

And so, instead of scolding him or making him apologize, you simply decided to say:

“If you’re getting so bored during our contract, perhaps you’d enjoy it if we played fetch for a while? I have a feeling that it might be just your cup of tea.”

He didn’t say anything and yet, you could feel his disapproving stare burning into your back as you walked to the wardrobe. Surprisingly though, the memory of the silhouette in the dark corner still seemed to linger in your memory, although not as a bad one. Instead, you couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t just what you were looking for to fill the plot in the next chapter of your book.

“I can’t believe it…” you muttered, raising the menu card higher in front of your face to hide it from the not-so-subtle photographer who was waiting for his perfect shot outside the café. So far, you managed to run inside the building without being filmed and you could call it quite a success considering how tense the situation grew since the latest news got released to the public.

“The greatest author of the decade caught in love!”

“Who is the mysterious man by her side?”

“Can we expect the next volume to be delayed due to the newfound romance?”

The headlines of newspapers and celebrity gossip websites were screaming at you from every angle—so much that you started to wonder if there would be a journalist jumping out of your own fridge to ask a few questions before lunch. Since the rumor about your romance—yours and Sebastian’s—were fairly new, you still didn’t manage to calm the public with some words of truth and a little sneak peek into your personal love life. Not that it was your intention, it was all but a play, of course. Another necessary step taken to avoid getting accused of the disappearance you certainly had nothing to do with.

Which you couldn’t say about the demon sitting right next to you by the table.

“Me neither,” Sebastian clicked his tongue, while still eyeing the menu. “The prices have surely gone up since the last time I’ve been there. Not that it’s an issue with your budget now, is it?”

If you didn’t know better, you might have believed that the kind smile he put on was sincere. Still, with the amount of knowledge you possessed and the time you wasted on trying to clean up after his mischief, you wanted nothing but to make him regret everything he’s ever said or done. He was the one to put you into this situation, after all. Like a single puppy left home alone, Sebastian went first for your new slippers, then the table leg and now he was chewing on your precious sofa—the couch meaning your privacy and relative peace of mind.

“Don’t give me that look.” He placed the menu back on the polished wood. “It wasn’t me who said that we were dating.”

“You forced me to do this! How else could I get a reliable alibi that I didn’t, in fact, murder anyone and especially not my own best friend?”

“I’m certain there was a lot of different ways to prove that.” He waved at the waiter. “Did you pick your order yet?”

“I’m not hungry.” You whispered something about going to the toilet when the waiter approached you two and only came back when he was gone, now your favorite beverage waiting for you at the table and Sebastian slowly sipping his tea.

“Besides,” he continued after you sat back down, moving your chair so your back was facing the window. “This outcome isn’t so bad, as you can see. You’re now even more famous than before.”

“I didn’t want to be some stupid celebrity and have people wonder what kind of bikini I wear and whether I have cellulite or not—I wanted to be known for my hard work. It’s something completely different than being stalked for having a guy like you nearby.”

“A guy like me?” He raised his slim eyebrow. “I doubt that would make it to the first pages.”

“I don’t care. I need to figure it all out and you’re going to help me whether you like it or not.”

“How overbearing.” Sebastian chuckled. “Enlighten me then, how do you plan on making it right?”

That’s where he got you. You still didn’t have any solid plan to retrieve your freedom and intimacy back and with all this chaos happening around you, with the demon constantly scheming against you behind your back, you felt quite overwhelmed.

“That’s exactly what I thought.” He took a sip of his tea and placed the teacup back on the saucer. “And I suppose I have a perfect solution for this problem.”

“Meaning?” You wondered, hoping that this time you would finally hear some more useful news than another joke or allusion.

Instead of answering, Sebastian gently reached to you and placed his warm hand upon your cheek, caressing your lips with the featherlike touches of his thumb. His gaze was focused on you, slowly trailing from your eyes, through the curve of the nose down the mouth and back up again. He smiled at you but this time there was no insincerity behind it but rather pure fascination. Amazement, even, and one could say that also adoration.

It’s been a long time since Sebastian took a look at your soul, after all. Although he was present in your life almost everyday, it was quite rare for you to open up to him—you weren’t the type to cry your eyes out on his shoulder nor beg him for love. On the contrary. And for some odd reason he found it the most amusing—your soul, your price waiting to be paid hidden from his gaze, except for those tiny moments like this one when he was finally capable of looking you in the eyes and almost tasting your spirit at the tip of his tongue.

The sensation made him shiver with anticipation.

Eventually, Sebastian leaned forward and after not witnessing any kind of resistance from you, placed a soft, sweet kiss upon your lips. His own were still warm from the temperature of the tea he drank, tasting like herbs and honey, and his smell overwhelming your senses when you gave up to this gentle affection and closed your eyes to savor it. For the first time in months your heart started to beat faster but not because of stress or fear but rather excitement—something so trivial, you wouldn’t expect yourself of.

Sebastian kissed you slowly, barely nibbling at your lips and not taking any step further. His fingers left your cheek with an unpleasant coldness and rested at the crook of your neck, slightly pulling you closer but not strong enough to make you feel caged. Involuntarily you leaned toward him also, supported by the elbows on the wooden table and not paying attention to the fact that you have just most likely exposed yourself to all the people passing by the café. If the creepy paparazzi was still there, he had a once in a lifetime opportunity to immortalize the first official kiss of yours with your mysterious company.

And somehow, you thought it was alright. If you wanted your alibi to be solid, you should prove to everyone that Sebastian was, indeed, your husband and the mysterious disappearances had nothing to do with you.

Repeat a lie often enough and it becomes the truth.

Initially, Sebastian was like some kind of hideous decoration standing in the middle of the living room—painted in vivid colors, with weird, eye-catching shape and not fitting to any particular home decoration style. You could place an elephant there as well and the overall effect it had on the guests would be quite similar. He was an interruption, a sudden chance of weather, an anomaly in your life, the one you called for yourself and although you considered him to be a hassle most of the time, as months passed you found yourself paying less and less attention to the abstract puzzle at the center of the jigsaw. It wasn’t that he was becoming less visible or having less impact on your everyday life—on the contrary, Sebastian’s actions were as ostentatious as always, it was just you who started to tolerate and maybe even like the strange addition to your new life.

Indeed, one could even accuse you of enjoying his company too much, especially when you were sharing a bed, tangled in the bedding and droplets of sweat glistening on your temple. His fingers were delicate and movements calculated to bring you nothing but pleasure when he was caressing and massaging your naked body. In those moments, you found him beautiful. With a warm gaze, perfectly cut lips, strong jaw and slim silhouette he could stand on the same pedestal as countless of Greek sculptures stood. Right now, however, he was not cold as marble but rather soft and attentive, all the previous flirts replaced by what could be described as nothing but endless love and adoration.

Fortunately, you knew better than to trust the perfect mask he chose just for you. It didn’t stop you from indulging into the pleasure, though, for how could you deny yourself a spark of joy when in the end it was supposed to be him to devour your whole existence and turn you into nothing? It would be a shame to not take everything this man, this demon, had to offer.

You were walking down the shore, the view of setting sun rays dancing over the nearby buildings making it seem like the whole world has somehow turned into molten gold. Yellows and oranges painted your surroundings into the real piece of art, something you weren’t sure anyone could ever capture on the canvas with mere brushes. The town you decided to stay in (small and rather unknown, free from the crowds of tourists) had everything you could possibly need for an effective rest and refreshing inspiration—restaurants by the sea, both museums and clubs, promenade near the beach and a whole street of various shops. It was truly something new, the change of scenery making it easier to breathe and prepare for the upcoming premiere of a brand new video game based on your story alone.

You could say a lot of things about Sebastian and how he managed to get on your nerves like nobody else, but you had to admit that there wasn’t a single slip in his plan to make your biggest dream come true. Everything he promised you was truly happening, step by step, one at a time, but eventually you could clearly see the results. As much as you loved it, you couldn’t not notice how it was all leading to the end of your own story also.

“Lost in thoughts?” Sebastian asked, his long fingers intertwined with yours as you slowly passed by the sailboats docked to the pier. “Were you thinking about the grand premiere?”

“I thought I had nothing to worry about in this regard.” You peeked at him from under your sunglasses. “Was I mistaken?”

“No, not in the slightest. I assure you I took care of everything.”

“So it’ll be an indisputable success?” You insisted.

“Are you doubting your own skills all of a sudden?”

For the first time you left him without an answer. Perhaps it was the matter of the different surroundings or maybe it was the setting sun that brought this mood to you, but watching as it slowly drowned in the endless ocean you wondered how it will feel to have your soul sucked out of you. Will it hurt? Will you be scared? Or maybe you won’t notice it at all? Was it up to Sebastian to decide on how he will take it?

Your dreams were coming true, the very thing you craved for such a long period of time was finally yours, kept in your hands and there was no obstacle nor foe that could take that away from you, so why were you getting nostalgic all of a sudden?

“Should I take it as a ‘yes’?” Sebastian’s voice brought you back to reality but he didn’t give you enough time to answer. “My, my, I didn’t take you for an insecure type.”

“You shouldn’t worry your pretty, little head about things you won’t understand. Emotions are not your strong point, if I remember correctly?”

He chuckled but admitted you were right.

The oranges turned into burning red, making it seem as if the horizon was on fire. Behind your back, the sky was slowly fading from all its colors, leaving the thick stripes of pale pink, purple and navy blue at the east. You could spot a few stars shyly appearing there.

“I merely did what you ordered me to,” Sebastian continued and to your surprise, added further:. “I cannot say whether you would be able to achieve it with or without my intervention.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“I’m speaking about the ‘right place and right time’ occurrence. Surely you know that your work is good as it is, don’t you?”

You stopped and looked at him confused, not really understanding where he was going with all this dialogue and unexpected confession. Pulling him slightly by the hand, you forced him to stop also.

“Explain yourself. Or should I get worried about you having a sun stroke?”

The demon tilted his head and you thought that he was going to kiss you again, just to make you forget about all those questions and doubts. Nevertheless, he knew that you were smart and wouldn’t simply be silenced by some sweet nothings.

“What do you think I did to make all your books bestsellers?”

You shrugged. It could be some kind of his hellish magic or personal charm which allowed him to get whatever he wanted wherever he got. Quite difficult to tell for an ordinary human, since he never bragged about his methods and you never cared enough to ask.

“I’m aware that you’re not familiar with my ways of working,” he admitted. “However, influencing a group of people can be rather troublesome, not to mention when the target group is reaching almost the whole world. Simply put, it would cost me a lot of time and energy to force them all into purchasing your precious books, leaving flattering reviews and recommending further and so, I decided to wait instead.”

“For the ‘right place and time’?” you quoted him.

“Exactly.” He gently pulled you after him so you could continue the afternoon stroll in the sunset. “I was waiting and observing the people involved until finally the perfect opportunity struck. That’s when I whispered a word or two to those who were in charge of certain matters, sneaked a copy of your manuscript et voilà! It doesn’t change the fact that the one who created and wrote those stories was you.”

The sounds of small waves swinging in the shore filled your brain with peaceful, rhythmical melody when you were analyzing Sebastian’s words over and over again. You were walking mindlessly by his side now, too lost in thoughts to notice that the circle of light finally hid behind the horizon and left the whole palette of colors above your head. The salty smell of the water was reaching your nose and you could hear people chatting and laughing somewhere in the distance—there was also music playing in one of the gardens of a nearby restaurant.

It was such a peaceful scenery, it completely didn’t match the chaos in your mind.

“Are you…” You cleared your throat, finding it difficult to form your thoughts into sentences. “Are you saying that I could have achieved all of that without your help?”

Sebastian smiled at you with such an adoration that it made your blood run cold.

“And you knew it from the very beginning? From the day we met?” You insisted, feeling as his silence started to fuel the spark of anger inside your heart.

“No, I cannot predict the future. All I did was calculate the turn of events and pick the best moment to strike. If it turned out that your books were a complete failure, then I’d have to intervene in a different way but fortunately, they were not. I suppose I can share this little secret of mine now that you almost reached your final goal.”

Your fingers were suddenly cold against his, the fresh breeze caressing the heated skin on your cheeks when you turned to the side and looked at the endless sea. You wondered if perhaps it was better to not know the truth and die clueless.

The smile which appeared on your lips was rather surprising to Sebastian and maybe it surprised even you. Whatever his intentions were, he wasn’t expecting you to react positively to this kind of news—you could cry and wail, cursing him for using you for his own gain, you could argue with him, accuse him of breaking the rules of the contract or tricking you into believing that you were completely hopeless without him, you could do anything! And yet, you simply smiled and then let out a happy chuckle.

Then, without a warning, you were the one to pull him to the side and head toward the restaurant where you could hear the music playing.

“Are you not going to respond in any way?” Sebastian frowned and you could clearly see that it was the first time in many centuries that someone managed to puzzle him.

You looked at him over your shoulder and pushed the sunglasses up your head to meet his stare. Then you laughed at his confused expression, so different from the everpresent smugness and confidence, and you swore that whatever was going to happen, it was worth living all those years, even if just for witnessing him making this face at how far he still was from understanding human nature.

“Well, what can I say?” You shrugged. “I told you I’m the best writer in the world.”

[ commission me ]

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebastian x reader #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian x you #sebastian michaelis x you #demons #commissions

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boredgirl2004 · 2 months

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Part 2 of Day 2: The book

As I said the words aloud, nothing had happened, I was relieved but also a bit angry. The nightmare that scared every loving ⬧︎♒︎♓︎⧫︎ out of me, that asked me to open this stupid book and to find that nothing came of it?!!! I was angry that my mind was playing tricks on me, so I took my hand off the page and reached the book cover so I could close it.

“What a waste of time!! First, the stupid dream asks me to open the book. I finally give in and open it only for there to be a warning from a guy who I don’t even know and instructions to summon whatever this ring is only for it to not do any-” I was immediately cut off from my hand being sucked back to the bloody handprint, the handprint, and red words emitted a bloody bright red glow, I left my blood being sucked out of my fingertips, I the pages in the book turning, they were quickly changing, from a burnt bloody page to a much cleaner and whiter one, immediately words began to appear, in all caps said the word “HAHA” over and over and over on the two pages, I immediately grabbed one of my books I had bought from Barnes and noble, only to be in shock to see that it had the same font and same words as repeated in the book of the bill. It was like those computer glitches, where the code would just repeat itself over and over after the system was hacked. Everything in the room began to shake until it began to float. Finally, one page of the book had the triangle figure appear, it pressed itself onto the page until it burst through. As it did, everything in my room slowly began to be set down. It began to speak.

“Well, well, well! Here we are at last!!! I’ve been waiting an ETERNITY to meet you, and I know you’ve been waiting nearly as long to meet me!!” I stood there in shock that the book or thing or whatever this was was talking to me! This couldn’t be real, it can’t be and how could it be?!

“Breath it in a second pal-this moment of anticipation! You always suspected this day would come, and it finally has! Your life will forever be divided into two halves: before you met me and AFTER. Welcome to the after!” It continued as I looked at it and began to stutter, trying to find my words. I didn’t know what to say about this situation as a whole! I wasn’t sure how to react. This was all confusing and shocking. I knew Stanford, the man who warned me to not turn the page said to not believe a thing this book says but I didn’t know it would be this weird!!!

The thing talked over me while my brain was crashing, trying to find something, some word to say about all of this. “You’re probably wondering, “Bill, you’re an all-powerful being. Why write a book, huh? Why let me read it? Also, aren’t you dead? Are you dead or what? What’s the deal?” I have no idea what you mean…” the page had turned on its own to reveal a dark silhouette of the triangle being. Its eye is emitting a glitchy, yellow and red hue as its mouth opens to reveal its crooked teeth (Bill needs to see a dentist fr fr)

“I’m….p e r f e c t l y…..f I n e”

Before I could finally speak and probably ask my question since from his tone, it seemed like whatever happened last time didn’t go so well. I was rudely interrupted yet again.

“In fact, I'm better than fine, because might feel silo And there's a lot we can do together! Oh, you might feel silly about "meeting" me. After all, "Bill Cipher" is imaginary. You're real and I'm not, right?

BUT ARE YOU SO SURE ABOUT THAT?

After all, you're mortal. One day, you'll be dust. But I'm an idea. And an idea can't be killed. So that's me 1, you o on the immortality front! And if I'm the eternal one and you're the temporary one, THEN IT MIGHT BE WISE FOR YOU TO GET ON THE WINNING SIDE EARLY, YOU DIG?

I know that drama queen Sixer warned you not to read this book, didn't he? Maybe the old nerd is right! Weak minds have gone crazy from just ONE glimpse at my TANTALIZING FORBIDDEN SECRETS! (Sees the hickory-smoked crater where

McGucket's brain used to be!)

But if you're as sharp as I think you are ... and if you're curious about the meaning of life, how to cheat death, Pine Tree's most embarrassing dreams, and your own interesting future, then I'll consider making a deal with you. How about a trade? I'll let you read my book in exchange for a favor down the line. We can work out the details later. What do you say?

TAKE BILL'S DEAD

YES?

TURN THE PAGE

No?

TURN TO PAGE 77”

I hesitated to turn the page, I slowly began to think about my choice. There were many cons to this, from what the guy wrote in the previous pages, he expressed how much meeting bill would be a regret for those who continue with turning the pages in this book; I don’t even know what Bill could do to me from just turning the pages in this book. What if I’m walking into a trap? What if there is more to this than what he’s letting on? What if-

“Ah, look at you, all tangled up in your own thoughts. Overthinking is such a waste of time! You’re so close to getting everything you desire, but you’re letting doubt hold you back. Come on, what’s the point of hesitation? Life’s too short for that kind of nonsense. Just turn the page, and I promise you—things will get a lot more interesting. And if you keep dithering, well, I might just start making decisions for you. So, what’s it gonna be? Ready to embrace a little chaos and get what you really want?” I looked down at the page to see Bill was in a sitting position, his leg crossed over the other and his expression expressed how bored and impatient he was from me thinking my choices. I was worried about how he could be speaking to me like this when he’s in a book, this isn’t possible it just- isn’t-

“Your hesitation is almost charming, but it’s getting a bit tiresome, don’t you think? Besides, if you’re worried about the logistics of me being here, maybe you should focus more on the opportunities I’m offering instead of waddling over what’s right. Overthinking won’t get you anywhere, dollface. So, why not stop doubting and start acting? The more you dawdle, the more interesting things will get when you finally make a choice.” He said with a mixture of smugness and amusement as he stared at me from the page. I sigh and remember my task. Find a way to destroy the book from the inside out, focus on not believing what he says, even if it’s too good, I kept repeating the same sentence in my head over and over as my confidence began building itself up as I reached the page. Still, I pause as I look at Bill and begin to speak.

“If you’re are this bill-person that this guy Stanford Pines warned me about, how can I trust you despite the warnings in the previous pages he wrote before? What is something you could say that’ll convince me that I shouldn’t just close this book and leave it in my room, never to be opened again?” I waited for the bill's response, which didn’t take long, and had no thought.

"Oh, come on now! Sixer was always so serious, wasn’t he? Just a big bundle of paranoia and charts. But listen to me: I’m not here to cause trouble—well, not just trouble. I’m here to offer you a chance for a bit of fun, a touch of excitement, and maybe a sprinkle of chaos. What’s life without a little unpredictability, right? Close the book and you miss out on all the cosmic shenanigans I have in store. Open it, and you might just find yourself in a whirlwind of adventure. I’m all about making things interesting and trust me, you don’t want to miss what comes next. So, are you in, or are you going to play it safe and dull? Your choice!" He said in a calming tone.

It wasn’t enough to convince me. I sighed and began to speak once more but this time I was faking my boredom. “Not convincing enough. Well Bill, it was nice meeting you even though it didn’t last very long but hey, this is my imagination just like you said right?” I say as I slowly begin to close the book. Bill responded with a slight stutter but he quickly covered it up with his nonchalance, “Oh, come on now, don't be so hasty! You’re not going to shut me out, are you? I mean, who knows what you might be missing? I wouldn’t want you to close the book before you've had the chance to experience everything I have to offer. After all, isn’t that the fun part of imagination—exploring the unknown? Give it a little more time. What’s a little more curiosity going to hurt?” I paused, the book was nearly closed but I slowly opened it back up. There was nothing but silence from both of us for a while until I turned the page. Bill's attitude changed immediately.

“Right choice, bone sack! Welcome to the Book of…” The page was now a biblical book cover of the Book Of Bill, Bill continued “No, no! That won’t do! Do you call that a cover? What is this, amateur hour? I can do better than that!” As Bill stared at the cover, I replied “Well, I don’t see you as a professional, Maybe try something more….You?” I said a bit awkwardly. Bill looked at me nodded in agreement and turned his back to me as he snapped his fingers, the next page had turned by itself, revealing four different covers. The first had a realistic appearance, it was in the middle of a farm, a storm right above it, and the clouds emitted lighting that took the shape of Bill. “Too basic!” He snapped his fingers again to reveal a book that reminded me of those horror books of goosebumps made for kids back in the 80s, I think they also made a show about it but that was years ago. “Too nostalgic.” He snapped once more to reveal a cover that I would see here, too many Bibles that had Jesus or god descending from heaven and floated above the person praying to one of them. “Too preachy.” He said out of boredom as he snapped again. I could hear a saxophone playing sexy music, it revealed a buff Bill Cipher holding a woman, they were in a field, their hairs blowing in the wind. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the cover. “Too ravishing!” I wiped my tears and tried to control my laughter.

“You think?” I said as I laughed once more as I wheezed out that Bill doesn’t even have hair or a human-like body. It looked so wrong to me but that’s what made it funny. Finally, Bill settled on a cover, It reminded me of someone on their computer trying to make the title and using as little effort to make it until they settled with Bill being tapped to the cover, misscapitalized and misspelled words, a tab saying “Good job Bill” with some emojis and a menu from right-clicking the picture. “There we go! Perfect! The crowd LOVES it!” I smiled and looked at him. “I bet they love it. It shows the author more than ever!” I say jokingly even though it was like a kid was in charge of making this cover. I see a bloody fingerprint at the right bottom corner of the page that says “Put thumb here”. The fingerprint had veins on the side of it causing me to be a bit concerned. “With that all out of the way, all this book needs is some ink! Hey, can I borrow some of your blood? Just press your thumb here, and I’ll absorb some right into the page! You won’t even notice it's gone!” I hesitated until I gained confidence and gently pressed my thumb on the bottom corner of the page, I felt a sharp pain on my thumb as if my thumb was being pricked and the blood was slowly leaving it. I tried to pull it off only for more blood to be sucked out of it. I kept trying to remove my thumb from the page, it was stuck there after a few pulls but after the fourth time, the book at finally let my thumb go.

Note: Hiiii, sorry for taking so long. Busy with life but anyway! I wanted to have Bill be more interactive so I tried my best trying to imitate the character the best I could.

#bill cipher #gravity falls bill #the book of bill #bill cipher x reader

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antihero-writings · 1 year

Text

If Everything Breaks

Fandom: Pandora Hearts

Summary: Break doesn't like to dance…but maybe just this once || A tale of Break as he grows accustomed to his life with the Rainsworths. My fic for the Chained Pandora Hearts Zine! Written to go alongside @paraffinegg’s art!!

For a while I’ve had some headcanons on how Break picked his new name, and I thought, what better time to write about it than my zine fic!

When Kevin opened his eyes, the light was too bright. No…not eye-s. Just the one. The other’s empty socket throbbed like mad.

As said eye adjusted, vague shapes became clearer: the bed he was on, the tables and chairs around him—(too lavish a room for him)—and finally a person.

“My name...is Alice.”

He shot up, knocking his head against the headboard.

She laughed...an oddly bright sound.

Framed in sunlight, a woman was smiling at him.

“Where am I?” he demanded, voice hoarse.

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s rude to address a duchess’ daughter so informally, you know.”

His eye widened. This unassuming lady was a duchess’ daughter?

“I am Shelly Rainsworth. ...You showed up at our door covered in blood. ...Quite an entrance, I must say.”

The Rainsworths? He searched his brain but couldn’t find record of the name.

“And you are?”

No one had asked his name in a long time. And if he had told them, well…he would’ve had to kill them.

“You killed so many people! What a fool you were!”

Best not pronounce his identity just yet. For her sake.

��You don’t want to tell me.” There was no question, nor distrust there. “That’s fine. But I need something to call you.”

Her smile was not wicked, nor pitying.

It had been a long time since anyone treated him like more than a monster to be feared, or a toy to plucked and prodded—his important parts ripped out; broken like all the promises of a better world—

“...keep breaking just like that…

If all the people break, and the world breaks…

and everyone and everything goes mad…

Then I can be normal...right?”

He looked away, reaching for his left eye, finding bandages and blossoming pain where sight was supposed to be. He grimaced before answering softly:

“Break. Just…Break.”

********

A world bathed in golden light, music coiling in the atmosphere. With its cues feet glided, hands entwined, and dresses fluttered just above the ground like broken butterflies’ wings.

A cacophony of meaningless noise.

It’s all mad.

Kevin stood by the stairs as if painted there.

It wasn’t that he disliked balls…okay, no, he did; balls, banquets…gatherings of any kind, really. But, this was the Rainsworth’s party, so attendance was mandatory.

Too bright lights, too loud music, gossip picking at his skull, and, well…people. It all blended together to create a painful buzzing in his head.

The crippled butterflies flew in the other direction around their cage.

“Come on, Cheshire, let’s dance!”

The dancing was the worst part. All those moves to remember, so much to get wrong...and for what? A good show? He had no talent for it, but hopping around, without stepping on anyone's toes—a trained monkey to someone else’s tune, and an uncompromising paradigm—held no appeal for him anyways.

Count the seconds. How many left?—

What do I have left to lose?

“Be it my arms, my legs…I grant you whatever your heart desires!

So please…change the past for me!”

Count the steps. Trace the sequence.

So many wasted moments in pursuits of stillborn dreams, the pattern already predetermined.

“It’s that man.” The hiss came from the side of the room.

He knew who they were talking about; whispers were his loyal familiar.

Kevin wasn’t looking, but he could feel her eyes burning holes in him, like she was trying to snuff out a cigarette.

“The one the Rainsworths took in.”

A second burning hole. His thoughts would surely catch fire.

He shut his eye, his knuckles white on the staircase railing.

“Have you seen his eyes?”

He silently refuted her statement: Nope. Just the one, Dear. The other was stolen away. Apparently they’re a precious commodity to little lunatics in the center of the universe.

“I know right? Red.”

Fingers shoved into his eye socket, pain boring through the hole left…

Screaming rending the air—was it his voice? His throat was burning—

“Fu-fu It’s beautiful.”

“They make him so creepy!”

“I still don’t understand why they took him in.”

“Don’t they know how to take out the trash?” Laughter like venom.

He leaned back, putting his hand on his forehead, trying not to let it travel to his socket.

The words wove around his inner works, pulling taut. He tried not to think of death—(theirs, or his own)—as an excuse, or escape. But too often his mind drifted to a darkened room full of coffins, and a little girl begging him to stay.

Was it his fault, then? Was all of this…inevitable?

“Break!”

The word was a crack in reality. Another, better world, reaching out to him.

If there is such a thing.

He looked up, as if at the bottom of a mineshaft, to see Shelly on the staircase above him.

The thing about being in a high position is one gains the luxury of indifference; those in power rarely care for those below them. They can afford not to.

She caught his eye and motioned for him to come up to her.

...The Rainsworths were different.

“Come quickly, there’s a man covered in blood!”

Dare he? Surely he must stay against the wall, he was plastered there after all.

This room shone gold. Yet the Rainsworths were brighter; they were a kind of light those in the room knew nothing of. So bright were they that those in the dark dare not touch them, for fear of being shown in the sun for what they really were.

She put her hands on her hips.

...He dare not disobey.

And what was becoming of him? He didn’t feel brighter since meeting them. What if it was the other way around? With each step closer he swore he could hear the pieces of his shattered heart jangling in his chest, and wondered if instead he’d leave them all bleeding on those sharp edges.

A blur went by, closely followed with—

“Dance with me, Reim!” Little Sharon came pelting after.

Reim hid behind Sheryl’s chair on the floor below, and Rufus proceeded to scold them.

Laughter like sunshine breaking after rain.

He looked at Shelly, who raised an eyebrow.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile in perhaps…ever.”

He was smiling? Better wipe it off.

“So…something tells me you don’t feel like dancing.”

“I never cared for it, Shelly-sama.”

“Let’s see, you don’t care for;”—She counted on her fingers—“people talking to you, people looking at you, people…aaand dancing now.”

He rolled his eye. “I mean it. I really can’t.”

“What do you say to a lesson?” She held out her hand.

He stumbled back.

Was this some punishment? He tried to think of anything he’d done to deserve this.

“It would disgrace a lady such as yourself to be seen dancing with a servant.”

“We could use a good scandal.”

“I—” he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’d step on your toes.” He was running out of excuses.

“I don’t doubt it.”

What wasn’t she getting about this?

Shelly bounced her hand persistently.

No. He couldn’t. Shouldn’t. Wouldn’t. Dare touch her. Surely he’d infect her. Why was she bothering with him? Pestering him, like she always did. Like everyone always did. Treating him like a lost puppy, when they should just leave him in the rain to die.

The request was soft: “Please dance with me, Xerxes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “…What did you call me?”

He never spoke of his past, but he knew those whispers, ever at his heel, were indication enough of something dark in his ill-conceived adulthood.

“Well, I figured if you’re keeping a fake name, you’ll need a second. Or, in this case a first—Break sounds better as a surname, don’t you think? And I thought Xerxes was rather fitting.”

“How?” He snorted. “Isn’t it a name for ancient kings and heroes? I fail to see how I fit that.”

How could a knight wear the name of a king? How could a villain bear the name of a hero?

“That’s why I picked it.”

He backed up, his eye widening.

He didn’t understand what she was, or why she ever spoke to him. All that light was sickening...yet…

This woman saw him, not as a monster, or a toy…but as some sort of hero. How was that possible?

The name didn’t fit right. But she smiled at him, and though the light was sickening... it was oddly warm.

“Break might not like to dance, but tonight we are not Break and Shelly. I am the Queen of Hearts, and you are my Mad Hatter.”

“...Who said I was mad?”

She grinned.

“You must be, or you wouldn’t have come here.”

He could choose to turn away, leave this place, believe the whispers snaking through him. Reject the name, her kindness, her light.

He sighed, averted his eye—

Just this one.

And took her hand.

#Xerxes break #pandora hearts #break pandora hearts #kevin regnard #kevin legnard #pandora hearts break #pandora hearts fic #pandora hearts shelly #shellly rainsworth #shelly pandora hearts #sheryl rainsworth #sharon rainsworth #reim lunettes

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adventuresinobx · 2 years

Text

The Bartender

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: You’ve just met JJ Maybank at a bar across town. Desperate for something - and someone - different, you’re soon taken by his Pogue charm. What happens when he suggests an after hours rendezvous?

A/N: It’s been a while since I wrote for JJ but this kept flowing and flowing. It’s waaaay longer than I had originally thought, but I hope you like it! Also sorry I’ve been AWOL recently. Life is super busy but I try and still find time to write from time to time so will definitely keep posting fics ❤️

Warnings: All the smut. Choking kink, rough sex, dirty talking

You pushed down your dress as you stepped out of the taxi, smoothing the material as you thanked the guy for dropping you off. You were about half an hour from home; and it might have seemed crazy to have spent so much money to go to some dingy bar when you lived in the centre of town with tens of fancy bars around you. You just needed out, out of the same place, the same bars - and the same men. You just wanted different.

As you stepped into the bar, you noticed how dark it was, the lighting barely even managing to lift the brightness in there against the contrast of the dark wood furnishings. You took a step towards the bar, your heels clacking against the sticky floor below. Finding yourself a seat at the bar, you swivelled yourself around before coughing quietly to get the barman’s attention. There was no response. You coughed again.

“Helloooo?” you said, tapping your nails impatiently against the bar. No response. Who was this joke of a barman and how did any of these other people have their drinks if he couldn’t even respond to a simple request. “Hellooo?” you repeated yourself, using the base of your hand to tap him on the shoulder.

“One second, one second,” he said, complaining as he turned around. He seemed shocked to be met with your eyes, and not that of an old man ordering another pint of beer. You gave him a small smile, as his eyes scanned yours then down to your lips, down to your neck, and finally your breasts, which let’s be honest were completely in view. His eyes trailed down further to your stomach, covered with your tight dress, before the bar stopped him from viewing any lower, which he had of most definitely wanted to.

“Uh sorry,” he muttered, embarrassed by his little outburst earlier. He paused, composed himself before adding in a flirty tone: “So what can I get you beautiful? A drink, my phone number?” You snorted, raising your eyebrows and shaking your head as he winked at you. You took the brief moment of silence to admire his arms, clearly in view as he was wearing a cut off shirt. You peered down to his chest muscles, poking out the sides from behind the material and making you curious what might be under his top even more so.

“I’ll take the drink thanks,” you said back, flashing him a small smile as he slid over a chalkboard with some ‘daily specials’ written on them. It looked like it had been there for the last three years or more. “Or maybe I can get you something else, throw something special together?”

“Can you make a mai tai?” you quizzed, him nodding as he threw a wink at you before disappearing under the bar to get a glass and whatever else he needed. As he started to assemble the bottles he needed, which probably hadn’t been used much since everyone else was drinking beer, he glanced back over at you.

“You haven’t told me what a beautiful girl like you is doing here on this side of town. We don’t get your kind of clientele in here.” You looked around, seeing everyone much older - and male. And all Pogues for sure.

“No I can see,” you replied, pulling out your phone and scrolling through social media as you waited for your drink. “You must be the life and soul of the party.” He laughed, shaking his head and flashing you a smile.

“You misunderstand me mama,” he mumbled, “We don’t get beautiful girls like here. Or sexy ones that come in here with all their curves on display in a tight black dress like yours.” You shook your head and laughed; gosh he really was bold - but you kind of liked it.

“Don’t think I put this sexy dress on to kiss someone like you,” you replied, adjusting your dress and pulling it down so it exposed your cleavage a bit more. Intentionally or unintentionally; he would never know. “You think I squeezed myself into this dress to have your hands all over me?” You raised your eyebrows as he gulped hard, nearly spilling the cocktail tumbler he was making the drink in. “Or to have you rip it off me later?” He stopped dead in his tracks, slamming the tumbler down as he questioned what he should say next.

He went to speak but you got there first. “Cos you’re not getting a chance with someone like me.” Your confidence only made him want you more, as he hung onto every single word you said, desperate for something, anything. What JJ Maybank couldn’t have, he wanted more.

A couple of hours had passed and you were leaning across the bar now, grabbing at a bottle of alcohol and pouring both him and you a big glug of the liquid. Rum, vodka, gin, whatever it might have been.

“You’re gonna get me sacked, or killed,” he said with a laugh, shaking his head before he downed the contents of the glass you slid in front of him. He’d been with you all night, only briefly disappearing when someone else had ordered a drink. He was stood next to the bar, the empty glass in front of him. You took a moment to notice the muscles in his arms, tensing hard and each muscle popping perfectly as he sprawled out his hands on the dark furniture. You noticed the scratches and cuts on the top of his hands, the way his fingers were so long… you stopped your thoughts dead in their tracks and looked up and offered him another flirty smile.

“So what brings you out here then? You never told me,” he asked, raising his eyebrows and flashing you a cocky look. You gave back just as good as you got.

“Wanted a change of scene, something different,” you replied, elongating the last word.

“Someone different?” JJ quizzed, winking at you. You replied by simply biting your lip. “Cos if you’re game, so am I. After my shift of course.” You contemplated the idea for a moment. This would definitely get you out of your rut. You looked into his eyes, biting your lip as you scanned his face to try and read his mind. He kept your gaze, you only dropping it as you noticed him lift his hands off the bar and clean one of the washed glasses with a towel. Your eyes were completely focused on his hands and what they could do if they were all over you.

“I’m game, let’s just see if you can handle me.”

“Oh mama, you only need to be worried about handling me; there’s a lot to - handle.” He flashed you a wink and smirked at you, his hand ghosting across your arm before he moved himself away to serve someone else.

Your eyes flicked immediately to the clock, 15 more minutes to wait. The bar was closing at 10pm (yes really). He noticed your gaze as he interrupted the silence with: “My place is 15 minutes away, think you can wait half an hour?” He cocked his eyebrow at his own comment, a smile spreading on his lips. You grabbed his vest top and pulled him closer, your breath fanning on his lips and skin as you leant forward and whispered into his ear, your voice soft but a determined tone to it.

“I don’t think I can even wait 15 minutes. How about we just find a quiet place outside of here?” JJ pulled back from you and immediately reached for the bell, ringing for last orders. He just needed you straight away; the flirting - and waiting - had been absolutely agonising for him too and he was sure there was already a tent in his pants, which no doubt grew when you whispered those lustful words into his ear.

“Last orders, quick,” he shouted, you chuckling at his eagerness as a couple of clients headed to the bar clearly completely unaware of his big rush. You’d never seen someone pour two pints so quickly - and badly, but the clients didn’t seem to care and handed over the money. He shoved it into the register and came back over to you. “Come on, let’s go,” he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the back exit door of the bar. You scanned your brain for thoughts on whether this was a good idea. Very clearly, your mind said it wasn’t - so of course, you proceeded as planned.

Out the back of the bar, there was a little alleyway, light low from the nearby street lamp but otherwise pitch black. You could see his strong jawline and features illuminated by the moonlight. He looked flawless, his arm muscles tense as he grabbed at you, his hands finally getting to explore you like he had wanted to all night. The movements of his hands sent shockwaves all over your skin and you melted into his body as he moved his hands down your arms and around your back, pulling you closer, before clutching at your waist.

“Wish I could see you naked but there’s no time, I’ll just have to feel you instead,” he whispered, his lips moving all over your neck and collarbone, the outfit you were wearing clearly making things very easy for him to access. His hands pushed roughly at the bottom of your dress, pushing it up to your hips. The sudden cool temperatures of the Outer Banks hit your skin and goosebumps came all across your body. You gasped at the feeling, his hands exploring you in a way no man’s had before. He was hungry, needy for you and it showed in the way he ran his rough hands over your thighs, your hips and down to your ass where he squeezed you, a wicked smile on his face before he dove back to kiss your neck again and leave marks there.

“So fucking sexy, where have you been all my life?” he muttered, his breath short as he explored your body with his hands and mouth. No bare skin was missed as he moved his fingers and lips all over you.

“About half an hour away,” you teased. You’d been a resident for the Outer Banks your entire life. He’d just missed you every single time. Plus you were a Kook and he was a Pogue and they just didn’t get on. “Fuck J.” Your thoughts were pulled from flirting with him when you felt him nip your neck roughly. You weren’t sure if he was drawing blood with how rough his kisses and bites were. But whatever he was doing, you wanted more and more.

“Feeling good mama?” he groaned, his eyes glancing over to look at yours. You had your eyes screwed shut, your body pressed roughly against the wall behind you, dress hitched up around your hips and moans spilling from your lips with every single movement he made. “Bet you’re soaking wet for me. Bet you have been all night.”

His words dripped with sexual tension and undertones, as you reached for his hand that was your hip and held it against your core. You bucked your hips forward into his hand, moaning as you felt his cold fingers against your soaking wet core. Even through the lace of your underwear, the sensation was incredible. You felt JJ push your panties to the side and his finger slipped through your folds. You groaned at the feeling, rocking your hips against his hand and trying to angle yourself against him so his finger would slip all the way inside you. No luck.

“J please, I can’t wait,” you moaned out.

“You think I can?” he said back, his voice harsh as he sunk a finger inside you. He didn’t even wait for a moment before a second followed and then a third. You gripped onto his bicep at the feeling, your arm tensing hard as you clutched onto him. Your back was pressed against the brick work, hips rolling against his hand as he worked his fingers inside you. He was needy, desperate, that was clear by his movement.

“Fuck J, that’s it, feels so good when you go so deep.” He tried to suppress a moan at your filthy words but your hand had made it down between your bodies and was palming him through his shorts. He grunted as you brushed your hand over the tip, the friction of your hand and the material rubbing together made the most unholy sounds fall from his lips. He managed to mumble out a few swear words mixed in with the word “mama” every time you moved your hand and the material of his clothes brushed over his tip.

“Mama you’ll make me come in my pants if you don’t let me fuck you right now,” he said, one hand gripping tight on your hip, his other with his fingers buried deep inside you. You weren’t going to argue with him; you needed this just as badly too. You closed your eyes for a moment, biting your lip, opening them again as you felt him move his hand away from you. As you opened them, you were greeted by the sight of him with his hand just in front of his face. You bit your lip, feeling that tension in your thighs and core as he slowly took each of his three fingers into his mouth. He sucked off all your juices, tasting them slowly as he made a quiet remark.

“Knew you’d taste good the second I set eyes on you.” Turned on by his words, you leaned in and kissed him, tasting yourself on his tongue which only turned you on more. “So fucking sweet,” he muttered, briefly breaking away from the kiss before attacking your lips again.

“Are you gonna fuck me or what? Do I need to ask?” you said, accentuating the last word.

“You don’t need to ask me, but ask me. Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you.” The words rushed out of his mouth. “Beg me, beg me to push my cock inside you. Stretch you out.” His fingers kept moving at a fast pace as he spoke, his breath catching in his throat and yours catching in yours. He switched the angle of his fingers and brushed his thumb over your clit in quick circles. He knew the more excited he got you, the quicker you’d succumb to him in the way he wanted - no, needed you.

“J, I need you. Fuck me. Please.” That was all he needed and as quick as his fingers were pushing in and out with you, that hand was around by your hip. He had spun you around, fixing your dress that had slightly slipped down due to his rather rough turning of your body. He bunched up the material again, his hand placed just below it on one side of your hip so he could keep his grip of you. He used his free hand to undo his own belt, his shorts falling down at his feet as he pushed down his boxers. His cock sprung free, his hand immediately wrapping around the length for a bit of light relief.

“Bend over baby, spread those legs,” he mumbled, pushing your back with his hand. You braced your arms against the wall, secretly loving the feeling of the abrasive bricks against your skin. He pushed the tiny bit of material out the way and took himself in his hand, rubbing the tip up and down your slit as he got both of you ready. He used his other hand to push against the top of your back, making you bow your head and stick your bum out a little more so he had better access to making you feel good.

“Ready for me mama? Ready for me to fuck you right here in this alleyway where anyone could see?” He continued rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your slit to spread your wetness. You moaned out, unable to form proper words as he finally slid inside you. He went slowly first, settling inch by inch inside you until he reached a little bit of a resistance. He paused for a moment, before pulling out just an inch or two and thrusting back inside you even harder and pushing past that tightness. “Oh baby; you’re so tight,” he groaned as his head fell onto your shoulder. He pushed himself all the way in, bottoming out as his hand pushed against your back and forced you to bend over even more.

This angle was punishing, and his speed was so fast you thought you’d pass out at the pleasure. Filthy words spilled from his lips as he pushed and pulled in and out of you. “Fuck you’re so tight. Squeezing me so good baby. You’re gonna milk this cock soon, make me come inside you. Is that what you want?” They continued. “Fuck yes, Y/N. Can still taste you on my tongue. Feeling you squeezing around my cock, making me feel so good. Bend over more baby, take my cock deeper. That’s it baby. Can feel you tensing around me.” Your body was in overdrive, bent completely over with your arms and hands braced against the wall as he drove into you.

He grabbed your hair in a rough ponytail, pulling you up to standing straighter as he pushed you into the wall more with his own hips. He pulled on your hair, tilting your head back as he thrusted inside you. He was rough, needy and desperate for you. This angle gave him perfect access to your g-spot. You could start to feel his thrusts become a little sloppy as you tensed yourself around him, shockwaves surging through both your bodies. His rough pulling of your hair only made the angle even deeper and you could feel yourself so close to hitting that high with him. He was twitching inside you too and just as you thought he was about to let go, and you follow suit just seconds later, he pulled out of you.

You full on whined at the loss of him. The fullness gone as you collapsed onto the wall, your whole body aching in different ways as you lamented how close you got. He grabbed your hip and spun you around, giving you that smirk you’d come to love throughout the night as he looked up and down at you. In the moonlight and low light from the street lamp, he could see your glistening folds and he licked his lips in anticipation. You thought you knew what was coming next but you were wrong.

“As much as I wanna taste you more baby, I’m gonna come in less than a minute and I want to come inside you.” You nodded at his words, blushing as he moved his hand from your hip, up your side and back down to its resting position again. “Won’t last long,” he warned you and you were certainly OK with that. You were fucked out, completely and utterly spent already.

“Wrap your legs around me and jump,” he said, you looking initially hesitantly at him. “Good girl, for me.” He tapped your bum lightly and encouraged you to do as he asked. You hesitated again, but did as he said. As you jumped, he gripped onto you and sandwiched you between the wall. The brick scratched against some of your exposed skin, only adding to the already electricity coursing through your veins.

“Baby you’re so wet for me, can’t wait to get my tongue inside you next time,” he said, his eyes keeping gaze with yours as he held onto your hip. He gripped himself in his hand, pumping up and down a few times before he pressed the tip against your folds. He coated it in the liquid that threatened to spill out of you, moving himself up to your clit and tapping there a few times before he finally sunk inside you. He held your thighs, which were wrapped tight around him, and carefully started to guide you to bounce on him. Both of you knew this was going to be over in a matter of seconds, your orgasm already bubbling up inside you as you moved your hands over his naked back, his vest somehow ending on the floor in every thing that happened. You don’t remember when but would you remember half of this? Probably not. Would you want to? Absolutely.

“Not gonna last, gonna cum,” he muttered, his thrusts getting more sloppy as he guided you up and down on his length. You managed a few strangled moans, your nails digging into his back and dragging across his skin. “Fuck gonna empty inside you cupcake. Can you take it?” You didn’t even have time to answer before you felt even more full than you had before. His seed filled you, multiple shots painting your walls white as you desperately tried to hold yourself up against him. You dug your nails into his back as you felt yourself clench hard around him. Your thighs tightened around his waist, his grip strong as he thrusted into you so quickly. His dick twitched for a final time, a final length of his white liquid shooting inside you as he kept his hips bucked up and into you. A loud moan spilled from his lips as he finished, your pussy clenching at the sound.

He set you down on the ground, quite unsure what to do next. Should he kiss you? He couldn’t invite you back to his, too afraid it was nothing like you were usually used to. So he settled on a few words, but you beat him to it.

“If I wanna be different again sometime, I know where to go.” You pulled your dress down, straightened it and tucked your hair off your face. And with that, you disappeared into the night, leaving him to redress himself and question what had just happened. As he pulled his top back over his head, he felt the pain from the red raw scratches on his back. What had he got himself into - and how was he going to get this feeling again with no way of contacting you?

taglist (pls let me know if you want to be added 🥰)

@starkeyobx @lovelyhedgehog44 @gryffindorpouge11 @jjmaybankmakesmecry @pankhoeforlife @bayy2452 @proactivetypeofgirl @hoebx @fangirlfree @severa-kane @lovedetlost @slutforsmutsstuff @drewbooooo @raiinyhood @samxslaughter @valeriiecameron @burgstead @mayceelou @my-baexht-ls @i-always-come-back-xoxo @0fucsgivenon @heesbestlover @storytellingwitht @ishipit1420 @fiction-is-life @im-julessssss @meadzy2 @onmykneesforrafe @strokesofstokes @wannabestarkeysgirl @penny4yourthoughts @infatuatedjanes @tenaciousperfectionunknown

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #obx smut #obx #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine

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eccentricallygothic · 7 months

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not really a request (not even sure i’m in the right ask box) buttttt i would love to hear any brain rot or wip scraps you wanna rant about. love when writers just info dump and i’ve been secretly lurking on your page for a bit. decided to make myself known

Hiiii! This is my first time doing this and I hope I didn't overshare but I am SO happy that you are making yourself known! Welcome to the blog, I hope to see more of you! <333

Now!! I am sharing two because why not? I've a lot more than these (maybe more than I'd like to admit 😭) but we will start with Auggie Walker and then move onto the Stevie one.

Auggie is an intimidating man and that's why I haven't written for him yet. I am so afraid I won't be able to capture him right and the idea is so good in my head I feel like I'll ruin it while translating it into a story 😭 but this idea has been living in my head rent free because it's a big fear for me!

And about the Stevie one, I've always been quite open about this and I will never shut up! I love, love, LOVE the sci-fi side of the MCU and specifically Steve's whole serum thing. It inspires me so much and I come up with something new everytime I see it! 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Please do let me know what you think about them! 🩷

(also, for whatever it's worth, these are my WIPs so I request no one steal them please!)

. . .

As August received an attachment from your number, his eyebrows furrowed because you knew to send them all through email. Making a mental note to reprimand you for it later, he tapped on it within the next second. Now his head tilted to the side.

A video.

He had asked you for some documents which your boss knew very well weren't supposed to be in this medium.

The man tapped on it nevertheless, the sound and content inside catching him off guard as his eyebrows slightly raised. He was in disbelief. Moving the phone closer to his face and away from where he held it against his work table, August increased the brightness of the screen to make sure it was you.

Which, you were.

"Mr. Walker…" You panted and whined, clutching one of your breasts as your other hand hid between your legs. "Oh, Mr. Walker… I am so needy for you…" You were in the janitor's closet on this very floor, phone placed on one of the shelves next to the files you had been carrying for the meeting that had just passed along your ipad. The lighting was dim and your disheveled hair stuck to your sweaty skin. "Won't you bend me over your table and make a good girl out of me~ I-" August blinked as the screen went black before a notification popped up.

Message deleted.

The man's head spun with the sudden influx of emotions, the sudden discomfort in his boxers getting tighter as he realised what had just happened. He smirked.

You had not meant to send it.

The fire that had taken over your body was dissipating and fast as you gaped at your screen. You were the stupidest person you knew. Instead of tapping on save you had chosen to share the video you were planning to watch until you orgasmed. Since your boss August Walker was your most frequently interacted with contact, it was an instant send that took you a few moments to register as you had been busy bouncing on your own fingers to orgasm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" You chanted in panic as you leaned against the wall of the small room, holding a shelf for support as your own heartbeat pounded through your ears. "I am so fucking–"

There was a knock on the door.

. . .

"Where… do you think you're going, doll?" Steve was reading the Sunday newspaper by the fireplace when he saw his young wife drag her luggage bag to the front door of their humble abode.

"Mommy and Daddy's home." Y/n responded curtly, not turning to look at him. Because his face was still of the man she had fallen in love with and married. But she couldn't let herself surrender to it anymore.

"Without my permission or a prior discussion?" Tilting his head to the side, the man raised an amused eyebrow at the stiff girl who started to drag the heavy bag again.

"Won't be needing any of that anymore." Since the man didn't expect what was coming, he chuckled and furrowed his eyebrows.

He couldn't recall doing anything against her wishes in the last 24 hours. So what was this?

"And why do you think is that?" Y/n sighed as she ceased her struggle against the luggage bag, biting her lip and closing her eyes.

Well, the talk would have to happen sometime.

It was now or never.

"You are not the man I married, Steve" since she usually referred to him as hubby, this felt like an insult, almost.

The Captain put the newspaper down against his lap now. "What silly Sunday morning shenanigan is this, doll?" He snickered before shaking his head. "I know I have been busy after everything but…" Now he patted his lap. "Come here."

"No."

"You know little wives can't tell their husbands that, baby. Haven't we been over this so many times already?" His coaxing voice had her turn her back to him.

Fuck.

She was so in love with him.

Why did he have to get the stupid serum?

"Good thing I am not your wife anymore, then." As she placed the ring on the shoe cupboard next to the door, Y/n failed to catch that he had stood up to the towering height the procedure had granted him.

He was a giant now.

"This is not funny anymore, doll." Steve warned as he started to decrease the distance between them.

"It's not meant to be. You're not my Steve. You're-" her words were suppressed by a gasp when she noticed he was now standing right behind her.

"Who am I, then?" Though his eyes and tone turned darker, he was genuinely confused.

"Captain America." It broke his heart when the girl backed up to create some distance between them. "The man I married was Brooklyn's most ambitious and brave… not America's pride. You're… practically a stranger" he sighed.

This had occurred to him once but he had assured himself that they were stronger than that.

"Come on, baby." Y/n flinched when he reached for her smaller hand and clasped it between both of his, kissing her fingertips. "I know it's different, and maybe even scary. But I am still me. So what if I am Captain America? Doesn't mean I am not your Steve… Can't you feel me?" He pressed his bigger body against hers.

"That's the thing" she whispered, devastated. "I can't." Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt herself getting scared and breathless under him. "I have tried. Ever since the day you walked out of that machine, I have. But I can't." Y/n didn't know why but she found herself thinking about how helpless she was against him. "I don't recognize you without your face. I feel like I am in a stranger's arms every night. It's not the same. Every time you touch me it feels like I am betraying the love of my life." Though the rational part of Steve's brain felt both crushed and sadly fond of her devotion to that form of his that no one else had ever taken seriously, her next words completely flipped everything over inside his head. "Please. Let me go." Reason gave way to desperation.

Oh..

He could never do that.

Maybe not even in death.

"Can't do that, baby." Her tears finally spilled down at his words. She started to softly struggle, the panicked gesture breaking his heart more and more by the passing second. "Why are you punishing us for something I had to do? For you, me, all of us. Come on, we are stronger than this. You knew my ambitions, you said it yourself just now." His own eyes were glassy as he breathlessly chuckled as an effort to somehow lighten the situation, ignoring her faint pleas as she struggled to push him away. "Remember-" Steve grunted as he gathered her now assaulting hands away from his neck and chest before locking them above her head. "Remember when your father didn't approve of me because he thought I wasn't good enough for you?" A trickled tear hung off the sharp tip of his nose. "Remember the hell you raised for us? You didn't even listen to me. You kept going for us until you succeeded."

But his words fell on deaf ears; something he wasn't used to coming from her. "Steve, you're scaring me! Let me go!" A thick bile settled at the base of her throat as she tried to break free, crying a bit harder now.

"There, you said it yourself. You said Steve!" Her obvious unwillingness to this position seemed to not faze him one bit. "Silly girl! How can you call me by my name and then say that it's not me?"

"Because you're not my Steve!" Fear was making her chest contract as she seethed out breathlessly.

"Come on!" One of his hands trailed down her body as he caressed and groped her tits before slipping his hand under her dress. "Not your Steve?"

"No. Your hands are big and rough! Your body is hard! You don't even smell the same! I DON'T feel you so stop!" A twisted smile now spreads on his priorly hurt features.

"I see…" Steve lowered his head momentarily before he sighed a little. "Then," a resolution flashed in the brilliant blue of his eyes, "I guess I just have to show you that it's still me."

. . .

#ask kai #404-isfound #august walker #august walker smut #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers smut

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philaet0s · 19 days

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WIP Wednesday

It's Thursday but I forgot about this yesterday

Another new WIP :) let's just pretend I don't have several already

(Sorry in advance for mentioning the COVID lockdown, it's necessary for the story)

Baz

One more email. Regards, Basilton Grimm-Pitch. Sent. 12:14. Last one for this morning. I close my laptop and watch the bright light shining out of the apple fading.

I stretch with a long, low hum. My leg jerks. This lockdown is going to ruin whatever strength I had left in this damn leg. I ought to exercise more, but I feel like a criminal whenever I step out of the front door.

I reach for my cane and lean on it slightly more than usual as I stand up. Maybe if I didn’t sit on a chair all day, it’d help. But I’d look like a fool, walking around my office as my students watch me through a screen.

I sigh. The pizza I put in the oven a dozen minutes ago is done. I take it out, put it on a plate but take no cutlery. I fold it in two and eat it while standing up by the kitchen counter. It’s wholly unsatisfactory. The things I would do for a nice dish at a restaurant right now. Or for one of his home cooked meals…

I toss the pizza crust in my plate. I’ve never eaten that. Spoiled kid habit, I’m sure. I check my watch. It’s only been five minutes since I sent the email. My next class is in an hour and a half, and I’ve run out of unnecessary tasks to pass the time.

------------------------------

Baz/Simon/Thomas

Ever since I created Thomas's character I have been convinced that he couldn't be in a traditional monogamous relationship. There's have to be some fuckery with other people on the side. Couldn't really explore that in Live and Die because there's absolutely no universe where Live and Die Simon and Baz would have been down for that, but well, new fic, new way to write the characters...

Baz

“I… I think I need you to explain your… situation to me a bit more. I’m… very much into you but the whole boyfriend thing kind of threw me off,” he answers, laughing shakily.

Well. At least he’s very much into me. That’s a good sign…

“It’s just… How do you come to be in that kind of relationship?” Simon continues, and the nervousness that had spread on his face becomes something a little different. Curiosity is glinting in his eyes. “Were you always ok with your boyfriend fucking other people? And do you guys have any rules?”

He’s not the first to be curious. It would not be the first time I explain my ‘situation’, and it would certainly not be the most awkward time either. Nothing could be worse than explaining it to my cousin, in fact, after an unfortunate outing when he caught Thomas kissing another bloke. All three of us had a terrible night. All four of us, if you include the man Thomas was with.

#snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #co/ws/awtwb #wip #fanfiction

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whatbecomesofthebrokenheartedfic · 11 months

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What Becomes of the Brokenhearted

Fandom: Fallout 4

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Female Sole Survivor/Nick Valentine, Sole Survivor & Piper Wright, Nick Valentine & Piper Wright

Additional tags: friends to lovers, slow burn, found family, canon divergence

Summary: Nora wakes up two hundred years in the future after losing her husband, her family, her whole world. In Diamond City, she thinks she may have found the one man in the wasteland who can help save her son, the only part of her life before the war she has left.

TW: discussion and representation of depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation. Eventual gore and body horror. Eventual smut.

00. Blue Prelude [1/2]

[> Next] [read on AO3]

Once they were back inside Diamond City Security’s patrol perimeter, Nick pulled his matchbook and cigarette pack from his pocket. They could afford to be a little distracted now that they were relatively safe—and he’d been anticipating that for the last three days, ever since he’d smoked the pack down to the last cig.

“You mind?” he asked with a sidelong glance at Piper, tucking the filter between his lips. She never did, but he always asked anyway.

She waved his words away as he struck a match against the palm of his right hand and cupped the delicate little flame at the end against the cold, humid breeze that whistled down Lansdowne Street. It was looking like rain, and had been since the two of them had crawled out of a manhole on the other side of the Commons an hour ago. Hopefully the weather’d have the decency to let them get back inside the city before dumping something acidic or radioactive on their heads, but Nick wasn’t willing to bet on it.

Piper cocked her head at him as he returned the matchbook and now-empty pack to his pocket. “You’re not gonna share, huh?”

“Not while you’ve got lungs to ruin,” Nick replied.

She scoffed halfheartedly at him. “I should have left you locked up in that office.”

Nick chuckled. God, but it was good to be headed home. “Anything new around here since I’ve been gone?” Nick asked, waving to the guard with his free hand as they rounded the corner onto Brookline and came within sight of the next security checkpoint. Unless the guard at the post was brand new, Nick would be recognized—he was hard to mistake for anybody else, even at a distance. Sometimes, like now, it wasn’t a bad thing—couldn’t complain about not being taken for a raider and shot at.

Piper was easily recognizable too, for that matter, in her bright red coat. Heh. Diamond City’s own dynamic duo of fashion disasters.

Piper’s response to his question was just a hair too slow, and he caught the edge of a grimace as he looked at her again. She made a noncommittal noise, which in Piper-speak translated to a “Yes, but I’m not going to talk about it right now,” maybe with a side order of “Yes, and you’re not going to like it.”

Well, damn. A guy gets locked in an office for two weeks and the world has the nerve to go on without him. Piper did that thing with her hands where she twisted the fingers of one in the palm of the other and then switched. That side order might actually be a full entrée. Whatever it was, it had her in knots. Silence from Piper was just as loud as anything she shouted at the mayor about.

“Alright, hold up,” the checkpoint guard said as they approached the blockade, holding up a hand, and then— “Wait a second. Nicky Valentine?”

“The one and only,” Nick said without a hint of irony.

“Damn,” the guard said, drawing the word out like he was genuinely a little surprised. Nick didn’t know his name; maybe if he saw the man’s face, but the umpire helmet obscured any distinguishing features except for his voice, which Nick didn’t recognize. “Word around town was you were dead. Or, uh—you know, whatever.”

A fair portion of his good mood curled up and died right there on the cracked pavement. Yeah, whatever, because things that aren’t really alive can’t really die now, can they? Nick sighed—or rather, he made a noise that sounded like a sigh even though he didn’t have lungs, or functioning vocal cords, and in the end what the hell difference did it make?

Really was no place like Diamond City.

“Not yet,” Nick replied, smiling thinly.

“Are we good to go, then?” Piper cocked her hip, and her head, and an eyebrow to boot, and Nick’s smile twitched towards genuine. Never missed a change in tone, that one.

The guard stared at her for a heartbeat, and then turned deliberately back towards the corner they’d just come around, every bit a dismissal as his next words. “Yeah, go on.”

“Much obliged,” Nick said, touching the brim of his hat. “Stay safe out here.”

He didn’t get a response, and Piper wasted no time rolling her eyes and stalking around the barricade. Nick had to jog three strides to catch up with her, and he kept his mouth shut as she sighed through gritted teeth, as the guard’s radio crackled with static, and Boston’s old metal bones groaned around them.

As they turned onto Jersey, Nick cast another look at Piper out of the corner of his eye. Her lips were pursed, her brow furrowed. “Not the warmest welcome I’ve ever had,” he said lightly.

Piper blew out another sigh, tired instead of irritated this time, and the hard line of her shoulders eased just a bit. “Well, that’s whatcha get for hanging around with Diamond City’s own social pariah.”

“Couldn’t ask for better company,” Nick said with feeling.

She cringed, freckled nose wrinkling. Not ready yet, then. That was alright. They’d have time now that he wasn’t stuck going stir crazy in the vault Overseer’s office. No need to push the issue.

Nick flicked ash from the end of his cigarette. “How’s Ellie been holding up?”

“About as well as you’d expect,” Piper said. “Last time I saw her she was holding one of your ties and crying into a photo album.”

Now there was a heartbreaking mental image. He’d have to find a way to make it up to her. Again. “Poor gal. Not gonna let me leave town again for a month, is she?”

“I’m not either,” Piper said. “In fact—”

A single loud clang of metal—distinct from the ever-present, bassline groan of skyscrapers, and instantly recognizable to any resident of Diamond City—sent a flock of large black birds erupting from the top of the Wall and wheeling across the cloud-bruised sky. The sound was followed by the rapid click-click-click of a chain unwinding.

Shit. Nick looked at Piper, snuffed the cigarette in the palm of his right hand, and tucked the butt in his pocket.

“That’s the gate,” Piper said as he drew his revolver. “It’s not even—oh, hell.”

Nick bolted toward the Wall, Piper at his heels, and jumped and then ducked below the low barricade that ran along the sidewalk parallel to it. Piper swore quietly from behind him and leather scraped as her coat caught on something, but then she was right there beside him, her own pistol in hand and her shoulder pressed up against his.

“Jeez, could you not sprint straight toward danger?” She elbowed him, but not hard. “This is exactly the sort of thing that got you whacked unconscious by a crazy broad with a baseball bat,” she hissed.

“See anything?” he asked, checking the way they’d been walking, but the street was just as empty as it had been a moment ago. He craned his neck to see past Piper, who was looking down her sights the way they’d come, but there was no sign of anything out of the ordinary there, either.

“Nothing,” she said.

A deep boom echoed through the streets as the city gate finished its descent. A dog barked from somewhere in the direction of the courtyard. The wind sighed softly, Piper panted beside him, and his coolant pump thumped in his chest.

But, other than that, nothing. No gunfire, no shouting. What the hell?

Piper was peering at him, brow scrunched in the same way his was. Nick gestured for her to follow and crouch-walked his way further south along the barrier, towards the security checkpoint that spanned the last few feet of Jersey before the courtyard.

Nick recognized the broad build of the guard standing—standing, casually, like there was nothing wrong—atop the barricade, and he frowned.

“Hey, Hank!” he called, waving and leaning around the end of the barrier. The guard jumped at the sudden sound. “Where’s the trouble?”

Hank hesitated for just a second, evidently processing—Nick Valentine, we thought you were dead, or whatever—and then lowered his half-raised rifle, shoulders relaxing marginally along with it.

“You can put the piece away, Nicky,” Hank said, nodding toward the two of them. “The trouble’s standing right next to you.”

Confusion wrinkled Piper’s nose, followed up almost immediately by fury. She stood straight up out of cover, one fist balled at her side and the other squeezed around her pistol’s grip.

“That rat bastard,” she ground out.

“Pipes—” Nick stood, reaching out to take her arm, but she was already shoving her pistol back in its holster and stepping past him.

“I’ve had it this time, Nicky!” she snapped, taking long strides that turned into a run as she passed under the checkpoint. Nick hurried to follow her.

The courtyard looked the way it always did on an average day in Diamond City, except for the gate being down before it got too dark to see, and the edge of anticipation in the air. Wagons and pack brahmin ringed the weathered old statue in the center of the open space, and caravanners shifted nervously around them, weapons at the ready. There was Cricket, with her distinct yellow headscarf and pink eyeshadow Nick could see even from here, one of the Vault 81 runners, a handful of dogs, and even one of those ghoul horses from out west past the Glowing Sea.

Piper ignored it all, striding straight up to the intercom and slapping the call button with more force than was strictly necessary. “Danny Sullivan, you open this gate right now!”

Danny’s voice, crackling over the speaker, was strained. “I got orders not to let you in, Ms Piper.”

“Oh, screw your orders!”

“Mayor McDonough’s really steamed this time. I’m sorry; I’m just doing my job.”

“Just doing your job?” Piper laughed, high and shaky.

The mayor, huh? No doubt the rat bastard in question, and no wonder Piper was so upset. She’d been pressuring McDonough about security’s refusal to investigate missing persons for nearly a year now, and—

Oh god. Hopefully things hadn’t come to a head since he’d been missing, though that would be one hell of a coincidence—

“Protecting Diamond City means keeping me out, is that it?” Nick leaned back to dodge one of the hands she waved for emphasis. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the crowd that had been milling around the courtyard beginning to coalesce into a half-circle a few feet behind where he and Piper stood, no doubt drawn by her volume.

“Oh, look, it’s the scary reporter! Boo!”

“Piper,” Nick said lowly.

“Ms Wright,” Hank said from her other side. He’d come down the checkpoint steps by the intercom, and moved to put a hand on Piper’s shoulder, but she swatted it away.

“I live here! You can’t just—” She curled her hands, like she had them on Danny’s shoulders and she was shaking him. “—lock me out!”

Nick stepped forward, up beside her, and leaned into the intercom. “Hey there, Danny,” he said. “What seems to be the trouble?”

“Is that Detective Valentine? Jeez, what happened to you? It’s been weeks.”

“Ran into some trouble on a case outside of Goodneighbor,” Nick replied. Though it was more like trouble ran into him, multiple times, at high velocity, and was made from hickory. Darla would’ve made Moe Cronin proud with that swing of hers. “Piper here pulled me out of it. Woulda been scrap metal without her help. You mind filling me in on what’s going on?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

Piper hissed a sigh through clenched teeth and met Nick’s eyes, shaking her head subtly. Whatever it was, they could talk about it later. Right now they needed to convince Danny to open the gate.

“Well, we’ve been a little occupied trying to get back to the city in one piece,” Nick said neutrally. “So we haven’t had too much time to chat about any new goings on.” He found an angle and went with it: “But it sure looks like things have been busy around here. Lotsa caravans parked out front today. Simon handing out free chems in there, or what?”

“We’re all just standing out here in the open,” Piper snapped, picking up on it immediately. “Not really a great way to bring in business! Do you want to be the one explaining to Crazy Myrna why she’s missing out on all this stock?”

From behind them, there was a chorus of murmured agreement from the caravanners. For once it sounded like the two of them might be on the side of the popular opinion.

Danny exhaled a drawn-out, staticky sigh. “Okay, listen, the whole city’s—”

Piper wasn’t having it. She leaned closer to the speaker, voice dropping in pitch and trembling with pent-up emotion. “This is wrong and you know it, Danny!”

“Jeez, alright!” There was a beat of silence on the other end of the speaker. “Alright. No need to make it personal. Give me a minute.”

Some mechanism powered up within the Wall, and the winding chain began clicking again. The crowd that had gathered behind them began to shuffle back to life.

Piper’s hands trembled the same way her voice did. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes damp with angry tears. “Thank you.”

Hank started to lift his hand like he was going to put it on Piper’s shoulder, and then thought better of it. “Ms Wright, listen—”

Piper pointed a finger in his face. “Fuck off.”

Hank held his hands up in surrender, grumbling under his breath as he turned and headed back to his post on top of the barricade. Piper closed her eyes, clasped her hands behind her head, and blew out a long breath.

Crisis averted—for now. The matter of what new beef was going on between Pipes and the mayor would be something he’d have to dig into, but it could wait until after they’d gotten settled. He owed Ellie—well, he owed Ellie a lot, but after the last two weeks he owed her more than usual. If cases hadn’t been piling up in his absence, maybe the three of them and Nat could take the day to do something relaxing.

Piper let her hands fall back to her side, and Nick reached out to touch her arm briefly. She managed a small smile. Whatever had gone down while he was away was clearly bad—but nothing they couldn’t handle together. Hopefully.

Something cold and damp touched the seam on the outside of his left hand and Nick nearly jumped out of what skin he had left.

He looked down to see a German Shepherd staring up at him with big brown eyes. Its tail wagged, its tongue lolled, and it shifted from paw to paw in doggy excitement.

“Dogmeat,” Nick said, kneeling to scratch behind his ears. Dogmeat woofed in recognition of his name. “Well hey there, fella. Where’d you come from?”

“He’s with me,” a contralto voice said from somewhere over Dogmeat’s head, and Nick looked up to see dirty leather hiking boots and long legs clad in Vault-Tec blue standing about six feet away—it was the runner he’d noticed when he and Piper came into the courtyard.

Yeah, definitely a runner, if the muscular curves of her calves and thighs were any indication. He didn’t let his gaze linger, pulling it up past her charcoal winter coat and dirty fur collar to her coppery, angular face, framed by glossy black fringe. She was looking him over warily, dark eyes narrowed, one hand resting on the barrel of a laser rifle slung on her back, ready to pull it into position. He didn’t take it personally; the folks in 81—at least the ones he knew—were nice enough, but their surface workers tended to be jumpy.

Except now that he was paying attention to her, he could see the number on her collar wasn’t an 81, but a 111.

Huh.

Alright. He knew 81—everyone around here did; it was hard not to know the people supplying you with clean water and real coffee—and he’d had too much time to get familiar with the Overseer’s office of 114. There was a 95 down past Suffolk this side of the Glowing Sea, a 75 in Malden, and that business down in the other DC involved some kid from 101. Maybe 111 was outside of the Commonwealth and that’s why he’d never heard of it, or maybe it just opened up to the surface. 81 had only opened up, what, a decade ago now?

The woman inclined her head at Dogmeat, keeping her gaze just shy of Nick’s. “Do you two know each other?” Her voice was something out of an old pre-War movie, lacking the accent that had two centuries to evolve after the bombs fell. Her teeth were white and almost perfectly straight—not wasteland dental work, for sure. Were freckles normal for a vaultie? He was no expert on human biology, but didn’t you get those from the sun, or could they be genetic?

“Sure, we’ve worked together a time or two,” Nick said, looking back at Dogmeat so he didn’t have to look at her anymore. This was going to be something—he could feel it churning away in his nonexistent gut already. He glanced down at her hands; the right still squeezing the barrel of her rifle, and the left hooked deceptively calmly in her coat pocket. Her short nails were painted with chipped green polish and she had an honest-to-god gold wedding band on her left ring finger.

Hand-me-down, maybe? Who did that anymore?

“I see,” she said, like that was the answer she expected and not a completely absurd exchange. She drummed her fingers on the barrel of the rifle, and then squared her feet like she’d come to a decision. Nick scratched under Dogmeat’s chin, and leaned back as Dogmeat lunged to lick his face.

Then, before he could formulate a reply for her:

“You’re Nick Valentine, yes? The detective?”

Nick paused before looking back up, but she still flinched at the motion—because he was a synth, because she didn’t know him, because this was the surface and he could imagine how frightening that would be to a vault dweller, some combination of the three?

“That’s right,” he said lightly.

She looked at Piper. “And you’re…?”

“Piper Wright, Publick Occurrences,” Piper replied, every bit the professional reporter sniffing out a scoop. No doubt she’d noticed the vault number by now, too.

Recognition raised the woman’s eyebrows slightly. “You work for the newspaper.”

“I run the newspaper,” Piper corrected. “We’re the hard look at the truth. You got a story for me, Blue?”

The woman moved her mouth like she was going to say something, then closed it again and started over. “I—maybe. I’m sorry if this is a bad time,” she said quickly, and then took a steadying breath, and looked Nick right in the eyes. “But I need your help. I’m trying to find a missing person.”

Ah.

Nick gave Dogmeat one last scritch behind the ears, and then stood slowly. The woman didn’t flinch this time, but every tense line of her body said she wanted to step away from him, even though she didn’t follow through. Probably, she’d never seen a synth this close before—or maybe she had. Wasn’t like any other rust bucket wearing this face was the conversational sort. Anyway, he got it—she was a slight gal and he was pretty sure intimidatingly tall was part of the older models’ build specs. No offense taken.

“Well, you came to the right people,” Nick said gently. “If not the right place.�� He inclined his head at the gate. “If you want to talk right now, we can head to my office.”

“So soon?” she asked, voice ticking up, brimming with carefully concealed desperation, and Nick’s heart broke for her.

“Sure,” he replied. “I’ve been away for a while so I’ll have to get settled, but that shouldn’t take long.” Ellie wouldn’t be happy, but she knew him. “We’re headed there now. You can walk with us if you like.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but didn’t fall, and her neutral expression didn’t shift. “Thank you,” she said breathlessly.

Nick gave her a brief smile. “Bit early for that, but the pleasure’s mine,” he said.

“You mind if I tag along?” Piper asked. “I’ve been reporting on disappearances across the Commonwealth. Unfortunately, yours is far from the only one.”

“Piper’ll be able to help you just as much as I can,” Nick said. “For a case like yours, we typically work together.”

“Yes, that’s fine,” the woman said. She shifted from one foot to the other, and her fingers flexed as she squeezed the rifle barrel. “I… I’m a little out of my depth, here. I’d appreciate any help you’re willing to give.”

Nick nodded. “We’ll do what we can, Missus…?”

Her expression did change, then—she blinked back her tears and pressed her lips into a thin line. His mistake—missing person, wedding ring—

“It’s Nora,” she said, voice rasping. She cleared her throat. “Just… Nora.”

A picture he didn’t care for but that was far too common out here started to form in his head. Nick nodded once. “Alright, Nora. I can’t promise anything, but we’ll have you break down the whole story and then see what we can do, alright?”

She nodded, unwilling or unable to speak.

Nick stepped toward the gate, and Piper moved to fall into step beside him. “Office is on the other side of town, so it’s a bit of a walk,” he said over his shoulder. “Ever been to Diamond City before?”

Nora hesitated fractionally before answering. “Not—no. No, I haven’t.”

Huh. The missus thing, he could infer a lot from, but it was weird that that one tripped her up—maybe that was how she knew who he was. She hadn’t been a client in the past, had she? No, he’d remember a woman that looked like her. And he’d definitely remember the unusual vault number.

Piper caught his eye. One-eleven, she mouthed, and Nick tipped his head forward in a subtle nod.

“Piper!”

Nick stopped dead in his tracks just past the turnstiles as McDonough, flanked by a pair of guards that trailed reluctantly behind him, stalked down the stairs that led into the city proper. His face was red, mouth twisted into a furious snarl under his moustache. In one hand, he clutched a bundle of papers hard enough to crumple them.

Piper squared her shoulders and gritted her teeth. “Time for round two,” she muttered.

“Pipes…” Nick said pleadingly. A second round of whatever pissed the mayor off badly enough that Piper didn’t even want to talk about it might get them 86’d—permanently.

McDonough shook the handful of papers at her as he moved closer. “Who let you back inside? You devious, rabble-rousing—”

“Oh, we’re gonna start with the name calling today, huh?”

“—slanderer!”

Nick glanced over his shoulder at Nora, who was frowning and leaning to see around him at what all the commotion was. He held his bad hand by his side and lifted one finger—one second—and pretended not to notice the way she stared at it.

“The level of dishonesty in that paper of yours! I’ll have that printer scrapped for parts!”

“Ooh, is that a statement, McDonough?” Piper spread her hands wide. “What a headline! ‘Tyrant mayor shuts down the press!’ How about this one? ‘Tyrant mayor throws free speech in the dumpster!’”

“Enough!”

“Oh, you’ve had enough?” Piper leaned in. “What about the people of Diamond City? Do you think they haven’t had enough? How long are you going to let the disappearances of your citizens go uninvestigated?”

“I have already told you—”

“That security doesn’t have the time to help?” Piper cut in. “That’s a load of crap, McDonough, and you know it. I want the truth. What’s the real reason security never investigates any kidnappings?”

Behind him, Nick sensed Nora shift closer.

“Isn’t it because you order them not to?” Piper asked, in a tone that said she didn’t need an answer. “Got a justification for that one? I’d love a quote.”

“Enough!” McDonough bellowed. “I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut because I’ve had enough of your disgusting conduct! From now on, consider you and that little sister of yours on notice. This is your final warning.”

“You have no right—” Piper started, just as Nick said “Now hold on—”

McDonough whirled on him, every ounce of vitriol redirecting in a split second, and stuck a finger in Nick’s face.

“And you, Mister Valentine, can consider yourself under the same warning. Longtime resident or not, condoning this blatant scaremongering will not be tolerated.” His eyes narrowed and he wagged his finger like he was scolding a child and not a synth a foot taller than him and nearly twice his age. “You are here only due to the goodwill of the people of Diamond City, and I can assure you that allying yourself with this muckraker is rapidly wearing that thin.”

Piper somehow bulled up even more and took a deep breath, no doubt about to lay into the mayor again, but Nick caught her wrist and held it there, and met her eye with a significant look when she turned to tell him off, too.

Let McDonough win this round. They sure as hell couldn’t—the best they could get was this, right here: getting to walk away without being tossed without any time to tell Nat or Ellie what was happening.

McDonough stood there for a second, looking between the two of them, face flushed, and then turned on his heel and stalked toward the ticket booth, guards slouching along behind him. No doubt poor Danny Sullivan was about to be on the receiving end of a similar tirade.

“Oh, god,” Piper said through gritted teeth. “Natalie.”

She bolted forward, footfalls echoing sharply as she dodged around a trader and out of sight up the stairs.

Nick sighed as the mayor lit into Danny, as the hubbub of traders going about their business picked up again in the courtyard, as the city moved on around him. He caught Nora’s eye over his shoulder, and she subtly raised one brow at him.

“We better get going,” he said, moving toward the stairs.

“Do I need to check in with the gate guard?”

“Think he’s gonna be tied up for a bit.”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

Well, he did appreciate that. “Ah, we’re already in it.” He waved a hand—the good one this time, and stuffed the bad one in his pocket with his forgotten cigarette. “I’ll let ’em know you’re a client later. They don’t usually ask too many questions about that.”

“Alright.”

As they passed through the interior gate, he carefully didn’t see the sign hanging on the chain link fence beside it: HUMANS ONLY—NO MUTANTS, NO GHOULS, NO SYNTHS. But he wasn’t a synth, he was the synth, Diamond City’s own local curiosity, only here because of the goodwill of a man thirty years dead and his own obvious nonhuman nature. Nick was the one synth that couldn’t pretend to be anything but.

Nora would almost certainly notice it too, and she’d have questions. They always did. With any luck she’d save them until after he’d gotten the opportunity to ask his own and the details of her missing person sorted out.

In the few minutes they’d been caught up just past the turnstiles with the mayor, a gentle rain had started to fall. Neon and stadium lights turned the city into a lightshow bright enough to rival the Glowing Sea’s corona of radiation. Merchant stalls ringing the infield still buzzed with activity, and would continue to do so for a few hours yet.

For all its flaws—and boy, it sure had them—it beat the hell out of anywhere else in the Commonwealth. Guilt and gratitude warred in the back of Nick’s mind, like they always did when he returned from a case and saw the city like this, and for once gratitude managed to win out. It definitely beat the inside of the overseer’s office.

Off to the left, halfway down the stairs, Piper was already standing over Nat on their front porch, saying something quietly. Nat wouldn’t be happy about being pulled away from hawking papers, which was almost certainly what Piper was doing.

Nick glanced back; Nora was looking out over the city with an expression he couldn’t quite pin down. If he had to describe it, pained would be a good synonym. Her lips were pursed just slightly, her brow quirked in some repressed emotion, her eyes narrowed critically. Dogmeat whined and pressed against her leg, looking up at her face, but she didn’t acknowledge him.

“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” he asked, and the corners of her mouth twitched downward slightly.

“Yes, it is,” she murmured.

Well. It might not be much compared to a vault, but it was still—for better or for worse—the safest place in the Commonwealth.

“If you don’t mind a detour, we’ll be picking up Piper’s sister from her office,” Nick said, pointing. “It’s just right down there.”

Nora stared for a heartbeat. “Yes, that’s alright.” She dragged her gaze away from the sisters to meet his eyes briefly before looking away again.

“Something to ask?”

Nora hesitated, and then—so unexpectedly he almost moved away—took a step toward him and lowered her voice. “Would the mayor really have them both kicked out of the city?”

Huh. “You know, before today, I woulda said probably not,” he replied honestly. “Not really something he has the authority to do anyway, but after that business out there, I wouldn’t put leaning on the city council past him.”

Nora frowned. “I see.”

“Nicky!”

Nick turned at the shout to see Nat glaring up at him from Piper’s porch. She stomped her foot, squared her shoulders, and planted her fists on her hips.

“Where have you been?”

“On a case, kid,” he called back. He motioned for Nora to join him as he sauntered down the stairs. “Where else?”

“You’re never out on a case that long,” she shot back.

“Well I was this time,” he said, and ruffled her hair with his good hand. “Sorry I worried ya.”

She swatted at him. “I wasn’t worried,” she said defensively.

“Sure, sure. You coming with us to the office?”

“Yes,” Piper said.

“Yeah, but I don’t know why,” Nat groused. “Are you guys gonna tell me what’s going on or not?”

“I already said later.” Piper squared her shoulders and looked at Nick, determined. Her earlier fury and worry looked to have cooled into calm now that she’d verified Nat was safe, but it was the sort of calm that carried an undertone of wariness. “Let’s get to it.”

“Alright then,” Nick said.

He led them the rest of the way down into the infield, and then made a sharp left at the base of the stairs, and then a right onto Third Street, unwilling to cut through the market this time of day. Going past the security building and school was typically faster, and he caught less stares from people who thought there shouldn’t be an exception to the no synths rule. And he was not in the mood to deal with Myrna screaming at him from across the square. Not today.

The Wright gals trailed a little way behind him; Nat still haranguing her sister to tell her what was going on and Piper staunchly refusing, and Nora followed behind them, looking around at everything like she was seeing it for the first time. Maybe she was. He’d find out eventually.

It was dark under the upper walkways, and only got darker as they hung another right onto Second Street. The only light on was the one bolted to the wall beside Arturo’s door, halfway down the road.

His sign was off. Ellie really did think he was dead, huh.

Boy. It looked like guilt might win out after all.

Nick picked up his pace, ducking under the corner of the tattered red awning that had come loose again and into the alcove that housed the door to his office.

“You coming, Blue?” Piper said. Nick glanced back; she stood under the edge of the awning looking back down the street.

Nora’s response was distant in more ways than one. “…Yes, I… yes.”

Well, he’d be hesitant to follow three complete strangers down a dark alley, too. Especially if he knew one of them was Natalie Wright.

Nick pushed the door open to find his office dark. “Ellie?” he called. “You here?”

There was a crash from up in the loft, a surprised “Nick?” and then bare footsteps hurrying down the stairs. Nick stepped fully into the office, and Piper and Nat followed him. Nora must have at least been under the awning by now, but he didn’t look back to check as Ellie burst around the corner, loose hair making a frizzy halo around her head.

“Oh my god, it’s you,” she said. Her eyes were wide and red and wet, and Nick’s heart broke for her exactly the way he knew it was going to.

“Hard to mistake this mug for anybody else,” he said, holding out his arms for her.

She threw her arms around his neck and he squeezed her tightly, lifting her to her tiptoes. She took a shuddering breath, and he rubbed her back up and down with his good hand, trying to soothe two weeks of hurt as best he could.

They stood there like that for a solid minute, Ellie breathing tremulously, Nick swaying her gently. He’d have gladly stood there all night if that woulda made her feel better, but…

Guilt was definitely winning this round.

“I got a client with me, Ellie,” he said lowly.

She sniffled against his shirt. “Of course you do.” She said it gently and he knew she’d understand, but he couldn’t pretend that one didn’t sting a little. She leaned back, wiping her eyes with the back of one hand and leaving the other on his shoulder. “Give me just a minute?”

“Take your time, sweetheart,” he said. She nodded, took a handful of calming breaths, and then gave him a one second gesture and stepped past the curtain into the other room.

Nick straightened, and glanced aside at Piper and Nat, standing quietly in the doorway, and beyond them under the awning, Nora, staring down at the ground.

He cleared his throat. “Ma’am—” her head jerked up at the sound of his voice, “—if you want to have a seat here at the desk, we’ll get started in a moment.”

He moved further into the office, switching the lights on and stepping around his desk. It looked like Ellie had been sitting here earlier—there were photographs of the two of them and the Wright gals spread across the desk, one of his ties, a handkerchief, all the detritus of someone crying over a loved one.

Over her employer. He wasn’t that good a boss. Poor gal probably needed a vacation now more than ever, and here he was opening up another case before he’d even had time to tell her he wasn’t dead. Or whatever.

Piper made a beeline to Ellie’s desk. “You guys mind if I borrow a notebook?” she asked, not bothering to get a response before opening one of the drawers. That was alright; she knew where they were for a reason. At least she brought her own pens.

Nat stared down Nora in the doorway for a second, and then darted past Piper—who thwacked her with a notebook—to sit on Ellie’s desk. “I’m not making us any money if I’m not selling papers, you know,” she said loudly.

Nick smiled to himself; there it was.

“We can afford to cool the engines for one afternoon, kiddo,” Piper said.

“That’s not what you were saying yesterday,” Nat countered. Piper stuck her tongue out at her.

Nick settled in his own chair, on the side of the desk opposite the door, and made his body relax, trying to appear as unintimidating and open as possible.

Nora stepped into the room and looked around warily, like she was expecting some sort of trap. Or maybe she was just curious. The tiny little office, with its cramped layout, and filing cabinets and boxes literally overflowing with case files, was no doubt a far cry from whatever facilities they had in a vault. How people living literally underground had more square footage than Nick and Ellie did, he’d never understood. Diamond City real estate went for a premium.

Every line of Nora’s body was tense as she sat at the literal edge of her seat so that big laser rifle had enough room between her back and the back of the chair. Dogmeat flopped down at her feet, tongue lolling, the only one in the room totally at ease.

“You want something to drink?” Nick asked her. “We got a couple different teas, purified water, maybe a soda or two?”

“Do you have coffee?” She sounded hopeful—like a vault dweller wishing for a comfort from home.

“We might have a few packs left. Pipes, we got any coffee over there?”

“Uh, you’ve got chicory tea,” she said, rifling through the little box of beverage components they kept on top of the minifridge by Ellie’s desk.

Nora actually smiled, very faintly. “Chicory tea sounds lovely.”

“One chicory tea comin’ up,” Piper said, and sauntered out of the room to fill the pitcher.

“I’d like a cola!” Nat called after her sister.

“Get it yourself!” Piper said from the next room.

“So, listen,” Nick said gently, without leaning forward. “I’m sure you’re eager to get started, but the way I like to handle these things is to take it a little slow during the interview. You’re gonna remember more details if you’re relaxed and have space to think, alright? So we’ll take it easy for a couple of minutes while you get comfortable and then we’ll get down to brass tacks.”

“I understand,” Nora said. “But I don’t have much to go on.”

“That’s alright too,” he reassured. “We’ll see what I can do with what you’ve got, alright?”

“Alright.”

Piper swept back in the room, followed by Ellie, who was a little red in the face still but otherwise put together. She’d done her hair up in a French twist; it was much less frizzy now.

“I’m sorry about that, honey,” she said to Nora. “It’s been a rough couple of weeks with Nick gone. I’m Ellie Perkins, detective’s secretary.”

“Nora,” Nora said. “Um. Client, I suppose.”

“Missing person, El,” Nick said softly.

Ellie mouthed oh. “I’m so sorry,” she said, full of feeling. “But you’re in the best place in the Commonwealth for it, now. Nick’s specialty is finding people. We’ll do whatever we can to help you, alright?”

Nora’s shoulders somehow tensed further at that. “Thank you,” she said stiffly.

She looked like a woman on the edge of a panic attack. Her back was straight, her heart was beating quickly and her breathing was shallow, her hands were balled into fists resting on her thighs.

He got it. The office was small, and the number of people trying to share its square footage was a little high right now. He didn’t care for crowds, either.

“You know, in a case like yours, the devil is in the details,” Nick said. “I’m gonna be asking you a lot of questions, so we may be here a while. You’re welcome to take your coat off and settle in.”

She sighed a little. “Right.”

Nick turned in his seat to give her some semblance of privacy, but kept her in his peripheral vision as he started clearing off the desk. Nora leaned forward and ducked out of the strap for the laser rifle, then held it in her lap for a moment, staring as if she didn’t know what to do with it. Very carefully, like it was a wild animal that might bite her if she moved too fast, she leaned it barrel-up against the wall beside the chair.

Unused to carrying a weapon, maybe, or unfamiliar with that particular kind.

“Where’s that photo box?” Nick asked, hands full of the photographs Ellie had spread across the desk.

“Here!” Nat said, and stretched forward to hand it to him. Her arms were too short to reach, and before he could scoot the chair back Ellie had the box in hand and was holding it out to him.

Nora winced as she leaned forward and pulled her arms from her coat. Was she injured? Surely her first stop in Diamond City would be to see the doctor if she was. But if she was desperate and had never been here before… Alright, that was one more thing for him to pay attention to.

“Thanks very much,” Nick said, dropping the pictures in. Ellie passed the box back to Nat.

Nora hung the coat neatly on the back of the chair, but didn’t lean back. Well, alright, he’d take a marginal settling over none at all. Sometimes people had a hard time relaxing. Far from the first time he’d seen it.

And then she swept a hand behind her head and pulled a long braid of hair over her shoulder. Had to reach her hips, at least. Then, at last, she sat back in the chair and folded her hands in her lap. Still not at ease, but doing better.

“Tea,” Piper said, leaning around Ellie to hold a steaming mug out to Nora.

“Thank you,” she said again, a little less stiff than last time, accepting the mug.

“I dunno how strong you take it, so it’s pretty potent,” Piper said. “I figure you can water I down if it’s too much. Or—Ellie, do we have—”

“Cream and sweetener?” Ellie asked.

“No, thank you,” Nora said. She gestured to Piper with the mug. “This is perfect, actually.”

“Couldn’t be me,” Piper said. “I like a sweet drink.” She grabbed a cola from the minifridge and rolled up her sleeve to twist the cap off with her forearm. Then she flicked the cap with her thumb and Nick caught it with his good hand.

“You’ll rot your teeth right outta your head drinking that crap,” he told her. He swiveled his chair and dropped the cap in the rainy-day fund mason jar they kept on the bookshelf behind the desk.

“Hey, I brush,” Piper said, and smiled at him.

“Detective,” Nora said quietly.

Well, alright, then, she was done waiting. Nick caught Piper’s eye and gave her a significant look, and Piper nodded and turned to her little sister.

“Hey, Nat,” Piper said. “Why don’t you go hang out in the loft for a bit, maybe get some schoolwork done?”

“Why?” Nat asked suspiciously, dragging out the word.

“Because we’re about to have a long conversation, and I don’t want you to get bored.”

Nat stared at her. “Bullshit.”

“Natalie, language!” Piper barked, and Ellie turned away so the two sisters couldn’t see her stifle a snort.

“I’m almost thirteen! That’s old enough to sit in on cases!”

“It’s really not,” Piper said.

“You were only sixteen when you started the newspaper!”

“So you’ve still got four years to go, kiddo.”

“Piper!” Nat said pleadingly, and turned to Nick. “I’m not a little kid anymore. I can handle this stuff if you guys would just let me.”

“Maybe next time, alright? Just not right now,” Nick said gently.

Nat scoffed and kicked her feet, and looked from Nick, to Ellie, to Nora, and finally back to her sister. Then she seemed to deflate.

“Fine, whatever. Can I at least sit out on the deck?”

“If you take the umbrella,” Piper said. “And come back inside if you see any angry politicians.”

Nat sighed loudly, but didn’t protest further as she slid off the desk and slouched out of the room, cola in hand and bag slung over her shoulder. She plucked her sister’s umbrella from her hand as she passed. There was a long moment of anticipatory stillness that stretched between the four of them that remained as her footsteps thumped up the stairs, across the loft above the desk, and as the door onto the deck opened and then closed again.

There was a beat of silence as Nora’s gaze traveled back to rest just shy of his. Waiting.

“Alright,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Her voice was flat. “Where would you like me to start?”

“Why not with who it is we’re looking for?”

Nora nodded, taking a deep breath. “My son. He’s four—” She closed her eyes, swallowed hard. “No. Five weeks old, now.”

Jesus. Wasn’t the first missing kid he’d been asked to track down, though this one was on the younger side for sure. Typically, in the aftermath of a breakup, one parent decided any kids would be better off with them rather than their former partner—but sometimes it was something else. Raider ransom, or worse. He got the feeling this case wasn’t going to be typical.

“His name is Shaun.” Nora’s voice broke over the name, but she didn’t stop. “He’s—he’s got his dad’s blue eyes, and my freckles, and black hair, and skin a little lighter than mine. He…” She held up a hand, lips quivering, trying not to cry.

“It’s okay, honey,” Ellie said, gentle as always. “You don’t have to say anything more.”

Nora nodded once, exhaled shakily. Nick pulled a clean handkerchief out of the desk drawer and held it out to her.

She hesitated a little, but still took it. “Thank you,” she said, sounding sincere.

Nick nodded, and gave her a second to dab at her eyes.

“Now, I know this might seem like an impertinent question,” Nick said after a moment. “But it’s important to get a complete picture of what we’re dealing with, here.”

“I understand,” Nora said again.

“Is your boy’s father still in the picture, or is it just you?”

The tears that welled in her eyes were answer enough, but she blinked them away, or tried to, and dabbed again at her face when they ran down her cheeks. It looked like his earlier prediction was spot-on, unfortunately. Nora was alone.

“It’s—just me,” she ground out. “The—the people who took Shaun, they—they killed him.”

She couldn’t hold the tears back, then. She pressed her fingers to her lips to stifle a sob, and then covered her eyes with her hand. Bent forward to rest her elbow on her knees, cradling her head. Tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped onto the bright blue fabric of her vault suit.

He shouldn’t feel envious of that, of crying. But he did.

Setting her notebook and pen down, Piper stepped forward, brow creased and lips downturned in concern, and reached out to lay a hand on Nora’s shoulder. “Hey, Blue…”

Nora nearly jumped out of the chair when Piper made contact, jerking away and sucking a breath through her teeth. Her eyes were wide, like a cornered animal.

Cringing, Piper yanked her hand back. “Sorry!”

“No, no—” Nora shook her head, holding her hands up placatingly. She was breathing hard. “I’m—I’m sorry, you just—you startled me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s—it’s fine.”

He understood Piper’s impulse. This was… difficult was too mild a word. This had never gotten easier to watch. This was a wound open and weeping along with her in the back of his own head. He wanted to reach across the desk and take her hand, to provide the anchor he would have liked himself, but that clearly wasn’t how she operated. That was fine.

“I’m so sorry,” Nick said softly. Nora nodded. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. But it was damn near all he had to offer. Sometimes there was no comfort and you just had to go through the motions.

“Where were you when this happened?” he asked, after Nora’s breathing had steadied somewhat.

She closed her eyes and twisted the handkerchief in her lap. “I was there. I…” She looked from Nick, to Piper, to Ellie, and back again. “This is going to sound unbelievable,” she said.

“Don’t worry. We’ve handled some pretty strange cases before,” he reassured. “Just tell us what details you remember.”

“We were in a vault when it happened,” she said. “It—was an experiment, I guess. The vault, I mean. It was some sort of… cryogenic facility.” She huffed. “The—we thought when we went in we’d be put into apartments or barracks or something, but—”

What?

“—they put us in these pods instead, and the doctor said it was some kind of decontamination before we moved into the living quarters, but then—”

“Wait,” Piper cut in, beating Nick to it. “What do you mean when you went in?”

Nora looked at her blankly, and suddenly everything clicked into place—the wedding band, the perfect teeth, the accent. A vault that was actually cryo storage. The bottom dropped out of Nick’s world and time slid to a stop—except it didn’t, according to his chronometer; the moments kept ticking by like they always had. It was just some strange trick of perception that made the second and a half following Piper’s question seem to last a lifetime.

Funny thing, that. You go your whole life thinking there’s no one else that can relate to your specific situation and then, with no warning at all, someone does, and she walks straight into your office and tells you about it.

“When the bombs fell,” Nora said flatly.

“She’s pre-War, Pipes,” Nick said.

Nora’s dark eyes flicked over, actually met his, briefly. “That’s right,” she whispered. “I—I know it sounds—insane, or—”

“It doesn’t,” Nick reassured. “No, it doesn’t. In fact, folks being around from before the War is a lot more common than you might think. You met any ghouls yet?”

She mouthed ghouls like she was trying to remember what it meant. “No. I mean—not the ones that are people,” she clarified. “The… other ones, yes. I came across the river from Cambridge to get here. The guard said they were bad up there.”

Piper whistled lowly, and Nick nodded. “Ferals. Yeah, they’re pretty thick the other side of the Charles. The uh, ghouls that are people, though, they stop aging once they change, so there are a few of ’em that were around before the War.”

“Really?”

“That’s right,” “So, this vault you were in—one-eleven?”

“Yes.”

“Has it been opened to the surface before?” Just because he hadn’t heard of it didn’t mean other folks hadn’t.

“I don’t know.”

“Where’s it at?”

“The Concord suburbs,” she said. “Just north of the river. The Concord River, not the Charles. A place called Sanctuary Hills.”

“Concord’s quite a walk,” Nick said mildly. “You come all that way yourself?”

“I had Dogmeat,” she said. His ears perked up and his tail thumped against the ground at the sound of his name, and Nora absently stroked the top of his head. “And some other help besides.” Her jaw clenched. “It’s still taken a week to get here.”

“Hey, now, that’s no mean feat. The Commonwealth’s a dangerous place.”

“It used to be a thirty-minute drive.”

Nick blinked. “Alright, that’s fair. But still, don’t put yourself down.”

She ducked her head, pursing her lips tight. Bucking against it.

“Now, I know this will be painful,” he started, and she held very still, like a radstag in a spotlight. “But I’m gonna need you to share everything you can remember about that day. You take as much time as you need, alright? And just say so if you need a break.”

She nodded.

“So—you enter the vault, and what happened next?”

“We were told to get in line at the bottom of the elevator,” she said. “There were already workers in the vault, I suppose. They gave us these suits—” she gestured to herself, “—and told us to change. Dana was holding Shaun, so I changed first, and then held Shaun while Dana changed. That was the last time that I…”

She trailed off, staring into space, and tears rolled down her cheeks. No doubt she’d worked that one over in her head a dozen times by now. If he hadn’t taken the baby back, her husband would still be alive, but she might not be.

Nick took a stab at it. “You can’t blame yourself for something like that,” he said, gently as he could. “You had no way of knowing.”

“I’m his mother,” she snapped.

“And Dana was his father,” Nick countered. She clenched her jaw at that one. “Was there another reason you weren’t carrying him?”

Nora dried her face with Nick’s handkerchief, preparing herself. Off to his side, Ellie shifted her feet, and Piper’s pen scratched across her notebook.

“I had a c-section,” Nora said. She frowned slightly, eyes flicking across the three of them in turn. “Are…”

“Some doctors still do them,” Ellie said softly, and Nick nodded.

“Okay. I was told I couldn’t carry anything heavier than my baby for six weeks, but when the warning sirens started going off, we had to run, and so Dana—” She took another deep breath. “Dana insisted.”

“You’re still recovering, then?” Nick asked. That’d explain the wince when she took off her coat earlier.

Nora hesitated. “Yes.”

“Jeez, Blue,” Piper muttered.

How much did that rifle weigh, compared to an infant? Maybe it was comparable; maybe she just didn’t care, and getting here to get help finding her baby was more important to her than her own health. He’d be willing to bet on that, actually. Maybe he could convince her to talk to Doc Sun, just to make sure she was really healing alright.

“So you change, Dana takes the baby, and then what?”

“Like I said earlier. The doctor told us we were going to go through a decontamination procedure before being brought deeper into the vault. He had us climb in these pods, and then it felt like the air was being sucked out—I could hardly breathe, and…

“It felt like…” She stared past him, into the middle distance, and then closed her eyes. “It was like when you’ve fallen asleep, but don’t realize it, and come back to consciousness all at once. Except instead of it being suddenly daytime, it was dark and cold, and I thought I was dreaming…”

Two hundred years in the blink of an eye. Damn. “What made you realize you weren’t?” Nick asked.

She swallowed thickly. “I heard voices. One was a man’s; it was deep, and rough. I couldn’t tell if the other was a man or a woman—I didn’t hear them at first. It was only once the man said something else I realized he must be speaking to someone.”

“What were they talking about?”

“I couldn’t tell. It was muffled. I tried to clear away the frost on the pod window so I could see them, but it was so thick, and my breath kept fogging it up. Then—”

She choked up suddenly, and pressed her fingertips to her lips to stifle a sob.

“Then I heard a baby cry, and Dana’s voice. I don’t—I don’t know what he said, either. But he sounded panicked.” She shuddered. “I started trying to get the door open, but there was no latch on the inside that I could find, so I rubbed the glass with my sleeve to see what was happening.

“It was dark, but I could see there was a man holding something up at Dana? I didn’t realize at first what it was, because the other person was trying to take Shaun, and Dana wouldn’t let them have him, and then there was a sound like another bomb going off and—

“I think I screamed. And the man turned and walked towards me, and I thought he was going to—” She gaped for a moment. “He leaned right up to the glass and looked at me. And then he said something, but I don’t know what. I still couldn’t hear him well, but when he started talking I tried to read his lips.”

She shook her head. “And then they just—walked away. Shaun was crying and Dana wasn’t moving and I kept trying to find the latch but—” She waved her hand, unable to speak, and Nick’s gaze fell again on her torn nails. She’d tried to claw her way out.

She sobbed again, but then held up a hand. Set her jaw. She was shoving it down.

“I’m s-sorry,” she started, and Nick shook his head.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he said. “Now, you said this man came right up to you—so did you get a good look at him?”

She nodded.

“That’s good,” Nick said encouragingly. “We’ll circle back to that in a minute. Now what about the other person?”

“No. They were wearing some kind of—it looked like a clean room suit. It was all white, and covered their face, I think. I didn’t see it, anyway. There was a tube running to something on their back.”

“And this is the person who took Shaun? Which way’d they go?”

“Back toward the elevator,” she whispered.

“Did you see anybody else?”

“No, only those two.”

“And after that?”

She stared past him. “I… don’t remember.” She swallowed. “I don’t know if I blacked out, or if the pod was reactivated. I was trying to get out, and then I was falling out.” She shrugged, but the line of her shoulders was tense, clearly ill at ease with the idea. “Then I left the vault and made my way here.”

She was leaving something out—someone must’ve pointed her this way, because no way was Fenway Park a pre-War person’s first destination after waking up after the apocalypse. His gut told him it wasn’t relevant, at least not now—she had said she’d had other help.

But her supposed blackout… that might complicate things. If the cryostasis had been reactivated, they’d have no way of verifying the timeline…

They needed to focus on what they could verify. “Alright.” Nick leaned forward in his seat. “Now, this man. You think you can describe him for me?”

“Yes.” She met his gaze and managed to hold it. “Where do you want me to start?”

“How about his outfit? Was he in a suit, too?”

“No. He was dressed like a—raider?”

Nick nodded.

“Like a raider. At the time I thought he was dressed strangely, but now I think it was patchwork armor. I don’t know for sure.”

“That’s alright. Do you remember anything else about what he was wearing?”

“No, just that his clothes were dark.”

So—patchwork armor, possibly a raider, more likely a mercenary—maybe one of the Gunners? They didn’t work solo, but Nora might not have seen the whole team. Whether the vault was broken into or was already open to the surface would tip his opinion about it being one of the smaller gangs or not. He doubted it, but there was no way to know for sure.

There was still the question of the person in the environment suit, if that’s indeed what it was. Those were a valuable piece of tech, and hard to come by, especially if they were pre-War. He knew Becky Fallon made one, once, but she was a professional seamstress and the customer had paid an arm and a leg for it. How well it worked he didn’t know, but it still looked homemade—a far cry from the sterile white Nora described. Regardless, it was likely not something small-timers would have access to or the caps for.

“Now, how about his physical appearance?” Nick asked. “Skin, hair, approximate age, distinguishing features. That sorta thing?”

She twisted the handkerchief again, closing her eyes. “He was white, bald or balding, with a beard. I think he was middle aged—he looked like he was on the older side, anyway. Or like he’d been out in the sun a lot. He seemed weathered.”

“That’s a good start,” Nick said. He redirected a portion of his processing power to running through faces and descriptions they had on file—from cases closed and otherwise. Filtered out the little gangs, prioritized Gunners, independent mercs, and the big-time raider gangs. It wasn’t guaranteed that he’d come up with anything, but he liked to think he was on top of the names and news going around the Commonwealth. If he didn’t come up with anything, he’d change his focus—at that point, anything would be worth a shot. And he’d been wrong before.

“Now, distinguishing features? Anything stand out about his appearance?”

Nora frowned. “He had a… slash across his face. This side.” She pointed to her forehead, just above her left brow, and drew a line down over her eye and cheek, stopping beside the corner of her mouth. “I remember because it was still stitched up.”

Now that was a solid detail. A wound like that was noticeable, and would almost certainly leave a prominent, depending on how long it’d been. Nick added that criteria to his search, and—

—got a hit almost immediately.

Nick held up his good hand. “Hold on a minute. Would you recognize this fella if you saw him again?”

Nora took a breath, and then nodded. “Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Ellie,” he said, turning to look up at her. “What have we got on Conrad Kellogg?”

She turned on her heel toward the many boxes of documents stacked in the corner of the room. “Let me find the file.”

Nora sat forward, frowning. “Who’s Conrad Kellogg?”

“Local mercenary,” Piper said, clicking her pen. “Real scary guy.”

Nick turned to Nora. “Now, let me be clear: I don’t know if this is your man, so let’s not make any assumptions. But Piper got a pretty good look at him, and an alright photo, so we’ll have you look at that and see if you recognize him, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Now, to answer your question—this fella’s a merc, and allegedly a damn good one, or at least a well-supplied one. Swept into town a couple months ago, started throwing money around—chems, weapons, real estate, you name it. But nobody knows who he works for; just that he just disappears for days at a time. Nobody in Diamond City has the sorta caps that he does, except the upper stands folks, and last I checked, my contact there said he’d never seen the guy before.”

“Found it,” Ellie said, and reappeared at Nick’s shoulder holding a stack of documents held together by a paperclip. On the top of the stack, there was a photo—taken from below and to the left, pointed upwards at a man leaning against a balcony railing and smoking a cigar. The angle wasn’t ideal for identification, but it did show one thing very clearly: a scar, running from above the man’s left brow and down over his cheek.

“Take a look at this,” Nick said, sliding the photo out from beneath the paperclip and passing it across the desk to Nora. She took it, frowning deeply.

She stared at the photograph for a long moment, holding it with both hands.

She looked for a long time. The air in the office seemed to still, as Nick, Ellie, and Piper watched Nora, waiting. Her hands trembled, making the photograph quiver.

“What sort of person would do this?” she whispered. “And—why?”

Wasn’t that always the question? “Don’t think that’s something we can know, at least not yet,” Nick said gently. “Not until we find who we’re looking for.”

“This is him.” She looked up at him sharply. Her teary eyes were narrowed in determination. “I’m sure of it.”

“Easy,” Nick said. “He’s not the only one I want you to have a look at, alright?” His internal search hadn’t pinged anyone else yet, but jumping to conclusions wouldn’t help.

Nora set her jaw, unhappy but hopefully willing to cooperate. She didn’t protest, at least.

Nick flicked through the stack of papers, didn’t find what he was searching for, and looked up at Piper. “Didja get anything on the kid while I was gone?”

In the corner of his vision, Nora sat forward. “What kid?”

“Hold on a minute,” Nick said.

Piper and Ellie glanced at each other, which answered his question well enough.

“Nick, we dropped it. We’ve been looking for you,” Piper said.

Right, of course. He nodded, worked his jaw. Right now wasn’t the time to deal with whatever it was that made him feel; he pushed it back and focused on the matter at hand. He’d smoke it off later. “Alright. How long since we’ve had eyes on him?”

Piper counted on her fingers. “Nine days, I think?” She looked to Ellie for confirmation; Ellie nodded.

“We don’t have anything new, Nick,” she said.

“Wait. Why are you investigating this man in the first place?” Nora asked. “And what was that back at the gate about a rash of kidnappings the mayor won’t let anyone investigate? Are they related? And what kid?”

All good questions. Alright. “Well, that’s sorta what we’re trying to find out,” Nick said, leaning back in his chair. “You wanna take this one, Pipes?”

Piper clicked her pen and cocked her hip, fixing Nora with a serious look. All professional reporter again. “Have you ever heard of an organization called the Institute?”

Nora’s hesitation lasted only a fraction of a second—but that was enough.

“No,” she said.

Boy, did she have one hell of a poker face. Not a single tell but the hesitation, at least not that he caught. Piper launched into her “boogeymen of the Commonwealth” spiel and Nick turned it over in his head. So: sometime in the last week she’d had a run-in with the Institute, or, more likely, someone who knew about them and told her. Doubtful she’d still be alive if she’d encountered one of their scavenger teams. Not many folks could say they walked away from that.

She said she’d crossed the river at Cambridge… and she was toting that fancy laser rifle. It wasn’t the sleek red and white of Institute firearms; maybe she’d ran into that Brotherhood of Steel squad that holed up in the police station. She had said she’d had other help besides the dog.

He’d been avoiding the area—and the soldiers themselves, whenever they came into town to resupply. In an ideal world he’d have more than secondhand knowledge about what they were up to in the Commonwealth, but it wasn’t like he could stroll up and ask. He could only imagine what their precious Codex said about synths, especially since the alleged reason they’d rolled into town was to search out the Institute.

Could only imagine what they’d told her about synths, but at least she hadn’t called him any names yet. Still—there was a difference between being polite because you were a polite person and not being overtly hostile because the synth was the only one who could help you and you didn’t want to piss it off. He was either a good detective and folks pretended they didn’t notice the synth bit or he was a crime against nature and needed to be put down. God forbid he be just some guy.

Here was the most important question, though: why would she lie about it?

He could think of at least one very good reason, and it was sitting across the desk from her.

Didn’t matter right now, anyway, on any count. He and Piper’d figure it all out eventually, one way or another. So she didn’t trust him; he couldn’t exactly blame her for it. She still needed help.

“You think Kellogg works for them,” Nora was saying.

Piper made a finger gun at her. “Bingo.”

“Where does the kid come in?”

“A little less than three weeks ago now, Kellogg shows back up for the first time in weeks with a little boy in tow,” Nick started. “Not an infant,” he added before Nora could start to look hopeful. “Kid looked to be Nat’s age.”

“What’s unusual about that?” Nora asked.

“To be fair, not much,” Nick said, shrugging. “Could be he’s just settling into town with his son.”

“What was unusual is how secluded he kept the kid,” Piper said. “I asked Nat; he never showed up in class, always got hustled around by Kellogg when he was out and about, which wasn’t often. We were already looking into Kellogg; might as well look into the kid too, just in case it was something else.”

“We’re not sure if they’re still in town or not,” Ellie added, tapping Nick’s shoulder. “Like we said, we stopped surveillance when you went missing.”

“What did he look like?” Nora asked.

“Uh, dark skin, dark hair,” Piper said. “That’s all we got. I don’t think any of us saw him up close.”

“Huh. Do you know anybody who did?” Nora asked absently. She was staring into the middle distance again, and she had one hand twisted in the end of that long braid of hers. Nick could practically see the gears turning in her mind.

Before he could ask what she was thinking, something thumped against the ceiling above Nick’s desk. A moment later, the floorboards creaked, and then slow footsteps plodded down the stairs. Nat pushed the curtain aside to see all four adults staring at her as she stepped back into the office, and, true to form, she didn’t look intimidated in the slightest. No wonder Piper was worried about her following in her sister’s footsteps.

“Natalie,” Piper sighed. “You haven’t been on the deck at all, have you?”

“Like you wouldn’t do the same thing,” Nat shot back.

Piper scowled.

“Good thing I wasn’t, too.” Nat looked at Nick. “I talked to that kid. I can describe him.”

“No kidding,” Nick said.

“Nuh-uh. It was just the once but I remember it ’cause it was weird. The press jammed that morning and Piper had just fixed it so I went to pick up noodles to celebrate, and he was leaned over the bar trying to have a conversation with Takahashi.” She looked at Nora. “Newbie mistake. And he didn’t know how to use chopsticks. Obviously he hadn’t been in Diamond City very long.”

Nat shrugged. “So I asked him where he came from and he got really weird and said mister somebody told him not to talk to strangers. So I said Takahashi was a stranger and he said robots didn’t count, and anyway Tak wouldn’t talk to him except for saying what he always says. So I asked why I’d never seen him at school before and he said he didn’t go to school in Diamond City, but when I asked where he went he got really weird again and said he wasn’t allowed to say, and I said that sounded like bullcrap, and then that scary guy showed up out of nowhere and led him off towards the west stands.”

“What did he look like, Nat?” Nick asked patiently.

“Like her,” Nat said, pointing to Nora. “Like a little kid version, with the same nose and freckles and everything. But with blue eyes. And a boy.”

“How little?”

“I dunno, like, ten?” She shrugged again. “He was shorter than me, anyway.”

“That was him,” Nora said, sounding distant.

“Hold on a minute,” Nick started.

Nora whipped to face him, making full eye contact this time, shoulders tense, leaning forward in her seat. “Cryostasis—”

“Whoa,” Nick said, holding up a placating hand. “Now, let’s not—”

“I don’t know how long I was asleep the second time,” she insisted. “I don’t even know how or why I woke up at all! It could have been ten minutes; it could have been ten years. The amount of time that already passed, I—” Her eyes welled again. “Please,” she said. “Can we just—follow up on this? Just to be sure?”

Desperation colored her tone, made her voice crack, and the way she looked at him was—

Hell, how could he say no?

“We will,” he said, hopefully sounding reassuring. “We will, I promise. Okay?”

She stared at him, and if he hadn’t been watching for it, he probably wouldn’t have noticed the twitch in her lower eyelids. She didn’t believe him.

“Okay,” she said anyway.

“Okay,” Nick repeated. “Got another question for ya. Do you know if we’d be able to get back into the vault? It might do us good to have a look around, and the computer system may have dated logs that we can use to find out how long you were out for.”

Nora somehow tensed further. “I didn’t—fuck,” she said vehemently. “I should have thought of that.”

“You were dealing with a lot.”

“That’s not a fucking excuse,” she snapped, and then immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, looking mortified. “God, I’m sorry,” she said into the ensuing silence. “I didn’t mean—I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”

Nick empathized, but let her sit with it for a moment anyway. Then he said, “You’re still dealing with a lot.”

Whatever retort she had for that—and she had one, judging by the way her jaw clenched again—she didn’t voice. She looked down at her hands in her lap, twisted the ring on her finger, inhaled and exhaled. “Right,” she muttered.

“So—the vault?”

“Right,” she repeated. “I think I could get back in with my Pip-Boy,” she said, holding up her left arm and her vaultie-standard portable computer. “I don’t know for sure.” She took a deep breath. “Obviously there’s some way in, right?”

“That’s the way to think about it,” Nick said, nodding. “So—here’s how I think we should go about this. We start by checking out Kellogg, and any other folks who match your description. If that doesn’t turn anything up, we can head up to Concord and check out the vault. How does that sound?”

Nora nodded.

“Alright.” They needed to wrap this up. Nora was clearly in no state to continue, even though she seemed to be chomping at the bit to get going. Whether it was stress, or the late hour, or exhaustion, or something else, target fixation and beating herself up wouldn’t help them in the slightest. She’d have a clearer head in the morning.

“I think it’s about time we called it a night,” Nick said. “We can pick this up again in the morning, if that’s alright with you.”

Nora looked up at him sharply. “Morning?”

“I’d like a little time to go through our other files, see if we have anyone else who fits your guy’s description. Like I said earlier—I can’t say for sure that Kellogg is the man we’re looking for, just that he fits the bill.” Nick softened his tone. “So, yeah, morning. The gate’ll be down by now, so nobody’s getting in the city, and we can get an early start tomorrow, be up before it opens, if you like, to make sure Kellogg doesn’t leave if he’s here. That sound good?”

Nora hesitated. Obviously, it didn’t sound good. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Nick said. He’d have to keep an eye out tonight in case she decided to take matters into her own hands. If everything else she’d gone through hadn’t slowed her down, he doubted his reassurance would. Leaning back in his chair, he looked at Piper. “Would you mind walking her to the Dugout on your way home? Tell Vadim she’s on my tab.”

“Sure thing, Nicky.”

“Seven work for you?” he asked Nora. “’Bout a half-hour before the sun’s up.”

“Yes, that’s fine,” she said. “Detective, about payment—”

Nick waved her off before she could get started. “We can talk about that when we find your boy,” he said.

She stared at him. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said. “I don’t take any fees until after a job’s done, and I haven’t even started working. For now, let’s focus on finding out what we can. Alright?”

She hesitated, then nodded quickly. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Piper ruffled her sister’s hair affectionately. “C’mon, Gnat, let’s get hit the road.” She gave him a little two-fingered salute over Nora’s head. “See ya in the morning, Nicky, Ellie. C’mon, Blue, what’re you waiting for?” Then she was out the door.

Nora stood up suddenly, and ducked her head. “Thank you both again,” she said quietly, and followed Piper.

Nat was the last to leave, sliding off Ellie’s desk and dragging her feet, and then, when the door was swinging shut behind Nora, she turned a sharp one-eighty and launched herself toward Nick, giving him only a second to prepare himself before she flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his coat.

Nick hugged her back, patting her between the shoulder blades, and shook his head at Ellie as she mouthed “Aww.”

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” Nat muttered into his shoulder.

“Me too.”

She pulled back and pointed at him—a Piper move. “Stay out of trouble,” she said sternly.

Nick smiled. “You too, kiddo.”

With that, she left, too, sprinting out the door to catch up with her sister.

The office was felt larger than it was with just the two of them that were left. He’d only gotten back a little while ago, but somehow, it felt like he’d never left. It coulda been any other night after seeing off a client; Ellie’d work quietly for a little while yet before heading to bed, and Nick would be burning the candle at both ends, just like always.

Ellie smiled ruefully. “It just never stops, does it?”

“Sure doesn’t,” he agreed.

She sighed heavily, and leaned up against the desk. “How did your other case shake out?” she asked. “Or is that a silly question, considering I haven’t seen you in two weeks?”

“It went better than you’d expect,” he said. “Turns out, our runaway wasn’t an unwilling participant after all.” Nick shrugged. “Decided she’d have a better life as some gang boss’ gun moll than doing whatever daddy had planned for his little girl here in DC.”

Ellie blew out a sigh. “And she decided to abide by that decision…?”

“Eh, not exactly. Shoulda seen Piper. Two minutes and she had the gal convinced her new beau was all talk and no action. Made the poor fella cry when she walked out.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Ah, well, it was Skinny Malone, if you can believe that, and he’s a soft touch. That’s why I’m still kicking; he got all sentimental about the old times and threw me in an office instead of just shooting me. Guess the guy’s only real friends are his enemies.” He rubbed the back of his head. “The dame sure wasn’t, though. Got me good with a swatter. A couple of times.”

Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose between her index fingers. “You are unreasonably lucky sometimes, you know that?”

“Hey now, I like to think some of it’s just good old-fashioned charm.”

“If you keep laughing at death, one day death’s gonna laugh back,” she countered. “God, Nick, you need someone to watch your back. What if Piper hadn’t been able to track you down?”

“I’da figured something out.” He would have; in another day or two he was sure he coulda convinced some of Malone’s boys to turn on their boss.

“You need a new partner,” Ellie said firmly. “And not another Marty; someone reliable.”

“I know, I know,” he said. “You find me one of those, you let me know.”

Ellie pursed her lips. “Believe me, I will.” She sighed heavily. “But—not tonight. I am cried out and exhausted, and I am going to bed.” She stepped forward, into his space, and then leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight, Nick.”

Nick smiled after her. “Night, El.”

She was right, of course. She usually was. But it wasn’t something he had time to worry about. They had a case to solve. He needed to review the Kellogg file, and dig through others for anything similar to Nora’s missing kid—while he had the time.

Nick sat back in his chair, fished his half-smoked cigarette out of his coat pocket, and lit it again, watching the smoke curl upwards toward the rafters. Rain drummed distantly against the roof. The neon sign outside hummed. Up above him, Ellie breathed softly.

He’d give it until the rain stopped, if that long. The night wasn’t over yet.

#my beta can't stop me from posting this because she's not here #will be up on ao3 once we're finished with the rest of the chapter #nick valentine #fallout 4 #piper wright #sole survivor #nick x sole #fallout fic #fallout oc

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livfastdieyoung69 · 2 years

Text

ROCKSTARS NEVER DIE-

(Ch.1) A Nikki Sixx Story.

A knock pounded on the wooden door. Rowan ignored it like they always did. Another knock followed by a yell of their name that didn’t even have to travel through the door thanks to the fist-sized hole. A loud puff of air came shortly after before the person on the other side stuck their hand through the hole, unlocking the door themselves.

“Rowan.” Rowan didn’t budge. They crept over to the mattress on the floor. “Rowan!” A groan left their mouth after a kick was swiftly delivered to their rib cage. It wouldn’t have hurt so bad if it wasn’t for the pair of Keds on the person who did it.

“What the fuck do you want, Holly…” Rowan finally turned over, removing their face from the grimy pillowcase.

“You promised to help out at the diner today, remember? Kelly can’t come in and I said you could. And all of the dumb rockstar guys coming down from the rest of the strip like you anyways.”

“That’s cause I am one of the dumb rockstar guys.” Rowan finally sat up, their feet meeting the ground. “No one's gonna be out anyways, it’s the fucking morning in case you haven’t noticed.”

“It’s seven pm, Rowan. We have to be there at seven-thirty. And please put something on that isn’t leather!” Holly hollered the last sentence as they left the dirtied room. Rowan let out another groan, bringing their hands up to their face before jumping over to the pile of clothes on the floor muttering about how they’ll wear whatever the hell they want.

Rowan quickly left their room after choosing a pair of torn-up jeans with a leather lace-up crotch just to spite Holly along with the wife-beater they had fallen asleep in the night before. At the sight of the terrible 70s furniture and bright lights, they left the living room even faster than their room in search of a cigarette and the pot of probably cold coffee.

“We gotta go Ro. And you’re not smoking in my car, so can you please just wait until you get a break or something?” They responded with nothing but a sigh before chugging the ice cold cup of coffee they had just gotten to and stuffing the already crumpled pack of cigarettes in their back pocket. Rowan turned around to find Holly waiting at the door with an impatient look on her face so they just grabbed their sneakers to put on in the car.

The bell on the door of Tony’s Diner rang, and Holly entered with a moping Rowan dragging their feet behind them.

“Sorry I’m late Dottie, Rowan wouldn’t wake up again,” Holly spoke as she rounded the corner to find the older waitress looking for the pens that always seem to be lost.

“Oh, you’re alright Holly. Where is that troublemaker anyway? Last time I saw the kid they were skin and bones.”

“Yeah, they still are. Got a little better since they moved in but I’ve been trying to get ‘em to eat more. I think they saw someone they knew sitting down and went to say hi.” Rowan turned the corner right after Holly spoke, their eyes lighting up with recognition at the sight of Dottie.

“Hey, Dots! How’ve you been?”

“I’m alright Ro. It’s nice to see you after a while. You been hanging in there after..all that?” At the mention of Rowan's overdose, they noticeably tensed up and looked down, embarrassed before nodding their head and refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I don’t do that stuff anymore.” Rowan tried to move away from the uncomfortable conversation, looking over to the line cooks to see who was working.

“Ro, what the hell happened to your hair?” Hearing Holly’s words Rowan turned back around, eyebrows furrowed.

“What? Oh yeah, someone lit my hair on fire last night so it’s a little uneven.” They scratched the back of their head and went back to inspecting the kitchen for at least one cook.

“Christ, kid, didn’t you just say you stopped doing all of that?’ Dottie's words may have been harsh but her tone was soft and full of worry.

“Well, yeah, I meant I stopped taking fuckin’ Xanax man! What, do you want me to just throw my partying days away? Let me have some fun.” Rowan walked away after quickly grabbing a notepad and a pen in hopes that the conversation would finally stop.

“I’m glad Rowan has you Holly. I don’t think they’d be alive if they didn’t.”

“Yeah…I don’t think so either.”

The diner was surprisingly empty for how late it was. There were always at least two big rushes. The first one was the people who didn’t really party all that much and didn’t like the music all that much either. They were calmer and tipped more. But they were posers so Rowan wasn’t a fan. Then the second crowd would come in a few hours later, and a lot rowdier. Most of them were black-out drunk, maybe even a little high. They partied, and rocked, and fucked and most of them were huge fans of Rowan. The first was smaller than usual, and now they just had to wait.

Rowan stared up at the clock. 9:57. They let out a sigh

“You okay over there?” Another waitress- Sophia, Sam, something that started with an s- asked.

“Uh, yeah. Could you just let someone know I’m gonna go have a smoke? Thanks.” Rowan left quickly through the back door out of the kitchen, a cigarette sitting on their lips by the time the cold wind pushed against their face. The small fire of their lighter brought warmth to their fingers and smoke to the air. Minutes later the heavy metal door creaked open.

“Hey, Ro? Someone’s asking for you out here.” Holly spoke cautiously. It was obvious Rowan wasn’t used to being sober this late.

“Uhm, alright. Just..just give me a sec Hols.” They squatted down before speaking bringing their arms up to the side of their face, trying to block out the sounds of the strip and the oncoming migraine. Their hands moved from gripping the back of their neck to rubbing their eyes. They sucked a breath in and held. One, two, three, four, five. They breathed out, crushing their cigarette butt on the floor, and stood with another sigh before moving back inside and to the table Holly had told them.

“Alright, what the fuck do you want?” Rowan leaned against the wooden border of the booth, staring at the man with his nose stuck in the menu.

“Nice to see you too.” The man looked up, a small smile setting on his face at the sight of them.

“Oh, hey man. How’s it goin’ Mick?” After realizing who it was Rowan sat in the other seat opposite of him, sinking into the sticky and crumbling booth.

“Y’know, the usual. Life's a bitch, my back hurts, and I’d like to die in a hole.” He responded, voice the same sarcastic monotone it almost always was. “You?”

“Same-same. Life’s a bitch, still going a little insane, and I did die in a hole last week. Unfortunately, i’m back.” The pair shared a couple of kind smiles- unlikely for the both- and fond laughter, before Mick took a sip of his shitty coffee, no sugar, no cream, and Ro picked at the fake wooden panel peeling up from the table.

“Listen, there’s this new band I’ve been playing with for a few days and we could use a rhythm guitarist. You’d fit right in and I said I’d ask around, see if anyone would be down.”

“I mean, I don’t have anything goin’ on right now, sure. This band gotta name or somethin'?” Rowan moved their arm to sit on the booth behind them as they slouched back. Mick let out a huff of air.

“Yeah, I wish. Don’t even have a fuckin’ singer yet.”

Yahoo! A new story :) I’ve been wanting to write a motley story for agesssss. On Wattpad as well just cause I prefer to write on there and paste it over here lolololls. Enjoyyyy

#Nikki Sixx #nikki sixx x oc #Rowan sun #ROCKSTARSNEVERDIE #motley Crue x oc #Motley Crue #mick mars #Tommy lee #Vince Neil #Nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx x you #he’s so yummy #the dirt #LIV writes;*!

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parcequecestnotreprojeeeet · 2 years

Note

Hi. It’s Fanfic Anon #2. I’m back with something a little different this time. I’ve debated whether or not I should send it in, and even though I’m a little nervous about it, I’m going to send it anyway since you all have been so lovely and encouraging. I hope you guys like it. If you don’t, let me know and I won’t write in this style/way again.

It had been a very shit day. A kicking-a-man-while-he’s-down kind of day. The kind of day that made any man not in charge of one of the world’s largest economies crawl into bed, throwing the covers over his head, snuggling up with his dog, to escape the world until it all blew over.

But he knew he couldn’t do that. Not with the press already running stories citing pernicious, unnamed sources claiming he was depressed, losing focus, drive, power, will. Not with so many people counting on him, so much at stake during the meetings, the calls, the quiet diplomacy that lay on his agenda for the day. Not when he knew that giving into it only makes it bigger, worse, louder, harder.

So, as he always does on the hard days, he takes it one step at a time. Grounding himself in the truths he sees, that he experiences throughout the day, the signposts, guideposts pointing him back towards his truth, his terra firma.

They start small: it’s finally autumn, and the brisk chill, that cutting feeling of the wind through his turtleneck grounds him in time, in place.

They get more ironic as the day progresses: the sun rises in the East and sets in the West, but he’s as he’s moving Eastward for a working dinner, he’s chasing the darkness of the oncoming night instead of the bright hope of a new dawn.

But they don’t get more meaningful, to him at least, than the one that strikes him at the lowest point in the day, when he’s exhausted, even for him, the superhuman who doesn’t need rest, the quiet of his mind allowing the dark thoughts he had suppressed in the frantic pace of the day to finally break towards the surface: his wife (still) loves him.

And the sight of her, sitting up in their bed, glasses perched on her nose, the black frames dawning attention to, magnifying the blue of her eyes as they scanned oh so quickly across the words on the page of her book, her quick, clever, brilliant mind seeking ever more knowledge, filling the time at this unreasonably late (or unreasonably early) hour of the night until he came home - it was enough to pull a sob from his chest, in relief, in gratitude, in release of the complex emotions that had been swirling in him for what seemed like forever now.

It’s at that sob her eyes snap up from the book to where he is standing in the doorway to their bedroom, looking oh so very small, so unlike himself that she leapt without thinking towards him, not caring about the autumn chill in the room from the open windows she could feel through her small, thin nightgown, or the cold floor beneath her bare feet or anything that wasn’t the overwhelming need to get her arms around this man, this kind man, this gentle man, this brilliant man who carries her heart, no, is her heart.

“Shhh,” she whispered to console him, pulling his face into the point where her neck and shoulder meet, burying his face in her, like she knows after all these years he loves, surrounded by her warmth, by her smell, by her touch, as she gently rubbed every part of his back she could reach with one hand, while the other gently trailed through his hair, reassuringly petting his scalp and she pressed soft kisses to the top of his head. “Whatever it is, mon cœur, you’re not alone. You’re never alone. You and me, chéri. Always. It’s just you and me.”

She waited until she felt him calm down before she continued, waited until she felt his arms finally leave his sides to slide around her, pulling her into him in a deep, almost crushing hug, before she continued, “It’s going to be okay, Emmanuel. And you want to know how I know that?”

“How?” He asked in a small voice pulling back to look her in the eyes, unashamed to be this small, this vulnerable in front of the one person who ever made him feel truly safe, truly whole.

“With you, I’m not afraid of anything,” she answered before leaning forward to kiss him gently, testing the waters of his comfort level, but also needing a way to show him just how much she loves him. Her heart settled, finally, when she felt him respond to the kiss, choosing to deepen it with a flick of his tongue asking for permission to enter her mouth, permission she happily granted.

They stayed like that for what felt like forever, hands gently, reassuringly tracing the other’s back, arms, shoulder, face until he felt her shiver, definitively from the chill in the room and not from the impact he was having over her. He pulled back and gently rested his forehead against hers, “we need to get you back in bed to warm you up.”

She smirked at his unintended entendre. “Why don’t you warm me up?” She teased, hoping to lighten the mood, sensing he needed it.

“Brigitte,” he moaned, trying to control the way he felt his body react to her invitation, suddenly needy.

“Come to bed with me,” she purred, slipping his blazer off, and gently grabbing his hand and dragging him with her towards their bed.

He followed her willingly, happily, as they tumbled into bed and as she stripped him one by one of his layers, both physical (his clothing) and emotional, treating him with a reverence that brought a different kind of tear to his eye and a different emotion threatening to burst out of his chest.

After, both physically sated and spent, cuddled so closely together he almost couldn’t tell where he started and she ended, barely still awake, he pressed one last loving kiss to the part of her he could most easily reach, and sent a thought of gratitude into the universe for her: his port in a storm, his safe harbor, his refuge, his anchor.

Oh Anon, but why were you nervous and having doubts about posting this?? It’s just beautiful! Feels so human, so natural... so real. It’s like I read this and can actually see it happen. You are doing an incredible job in writing these fanfics, creating it very down to earth and truthful to Emmanuel and Brigitte. No words can thank you enough ❤️ And pretty please, continue! 🙏🏻❤️

#fanfic #fanfic anon 2

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swiftscion · 2 years

Text

Comet Spear

Duke Maxifeld has received a letter detailing the planned heist of his family’s priceless heirloom - a weapon said to take on many an alternate form - during his upcoming annual ball. The Knights of Seiros have assigned you and your partner to attend undercover and find the wannabe thief before they act. The event is strictly for couples only. Better make your act convincing! [Grants Any Weapon +1]

“Now if I were a weapon, where would I be...?”

That is the question burning bright in Larcei’s mind. Like the biggest star in the night sky, it takes center stage, even amidst the blinding luster of tonight’s dance. Champagne flutes pass her by atop trays carried by elegant servers, their heels clicking away as Larcei refuses them every time. She can’t let herself get distracted--not by the music, not by the catering, not by the stardust under every woman’s eye and the sharp blazers extenuating every man’s chest. Lucky is Larcei, that this is a couple’s event. If any of these glittering sheep were single, she’d have to fight their flowery words and gaudy proposals. And crusaders know she’s already done enough of that.

(Though it’s hard not to wonder what’s become of him. Ever since you turned him down that one day, he vanished...)

She’s dressed in the finest thing she owns, but it’s just her ball dress being re-used. It isn’t worth it to go shopping for another one. Plus, her mother had never been known as a ‘dress-girl’ , so neither shall Larcei. But that’s not to say she’s come unarmed! Though her outfit is sleeveless and the top is decorated with translucent membrane, strapped to her thigh is a sheathed shortsword. It’s best to come prepared, she figures, since apprehending a thief will surely be a struggle without it. It is just small enough that it fits under her hem, but long enough to more effective than a dagger in a duel.

Instead of starting the night off with a bit of dancing or refreshment, Larcei leaves her partner’s side to scope out the area. With how many are circling round that crystalline sun strung to the ceiling, it’s easy to slip out of the public eye. Not many have taken to the sidelines just yet. Their attention is drawn to their partners, doing whatever they can to force a smile on the other’s face, for tonight is to be a night of merriment!

But not for the Isaachian. She has a duty, and even if that means playing the part of a shadowy hand behind all the glitz and glamor, she’ll see it done. Mounted across the walls are countless gilded arms displays. Crossed swords rest beneath dauntless shields, axes with heads of gold are held firm by suits of armor. There are bows, lances--hell, even a few staves. But as Larcei begins to inspect them more closely, she can tell they’re all just decorative pieces. None of these blades are sharp, none of this metal actually strong. Taking any of these off the wall and trying to actually fight with it would get one killed before they can even appreciate its beauty. So that begs the question: where is their target? It could take on any form imaginable, so locating it ought to be the first priority.

“Hey, Ephraim, was it? Got any leads on where we should look?” She returns to her partner now, having concluding her broad sweep of the premises. Her eyes do not stay fixed on him for long, constantly darting to all the sides and corners of the room, watching for any subtle changes to happen to one of these weapons. Maybe a spear will turn into a scythe, or double its width while halving its length. If she can catch it turning a transition, she’ll have her in.

“I’ve checked the place out myself, but nothing seems to be turning up... Maybe the heirloom isn’t in public...” Defeat starts to mar the tone of her voice. It’s been kept all hush-hush for the sake of not compromising herself, but as the thought that her efforts have gone to waste settles in, it grows even quieter as a result. “And what do you think about our thief? See anyone looking a bit suspicious?”

//starter for @prideofrenais

#IC #THREAD NO. 15 EPHRAIM (COMET SPEAR)#PRIDEOFRENAIS

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nemobeatrice · 2 years

Text

Heritage Februabba Day 9: Animals - Alejandro

Ao3

Quotev

Wattpad

When the chief of police replaced Abbacchio’s partner with a dog, a German Shepherd, he nor his former partner knew what to say.

“Gee, I thought they’d replace me with a human,” his former partner said, looking at Alejandro, the dog. “Well, look on the bright side, Leone. Women love dogs. They’ll be all over you! Don’t give me that look. I know you’re single.”

“I’m not interested in anybody,” Abbacchio said.

“You say that now, but you never know. Anyways, I should go on patrol. I’ll miss being with you. Stay safe!”

Abbacchio and Alejandro left the police station, and Abbacchio drove off somewhere to patrol. The dog sat in the front seat.

“So, you’re a dog.”

Alejandro barked.

“Just stick with me. Don’t get lost. Don’t wander around. You got that?”

The dog looked at him and tilted his head.

“Well, you were trained by the best. Maybe I should let you handle everything. Wait, why am I talking to a dog?”

Alejandro made a noise that almost sounded like he said I don’t know.

On their patrol, they spotted a guy with a sex worker. Abbacchio parked nearby, and the two got out of the car to confront them. Alejandro growled at the man, making him nervous.

“Hey, officer, the girl here needs money. We’re not hurting anyone. Couldn’t you let this slide?” The man brought out a few lire.

Abbacchio thought about taking the bribe, but Alejandro bit the man’s hands before he could do anything.

“Hey, no! Bad dog!” Abbacchio yelled.

“Ah, shit! Are you kidding me!” the briber yelled. He reached for the gun in his pocket.

Before the man could shoot the dog, Abbacchio was quicker than him and aimed for his hand, making him drop the gun. His hand was bloody. Alejandro let go so Abbacchio could arrest him. As for the sex worker, she ran away.

The next day, Abbacchio’s boss thought he and Alejandro had too much excitement last night and gave them a few days off. Since the dog had no owner, he lived with Abbacchio in an apartment, causing the cop to go shopping early in the morning to buy supplies.

“Well, poochie, are you happy?” he asked.

They were in the kitchen, and Alejandro looked tired; both of them were. It was hard for Abbacchio to sleep after what happened.

“You look like shit. Maybe we could go out for a walk.”

And like that, Alejandro found his energy.

“Wow, someone wants to go outside. How does the beach sound? It’s nice and sunny. You probably want to go for a swim, huh?”

“Arf!”

“We’ll go after I finish this a cup of coffee.”

Abbacchio and Alejandro walked to the beach despite it being a little bit far. By the time they got there, they were hot and sweaty, but a nice breeze kicked in and cooled them off. After walking for a few minutes, Abbaccho decided to rest for a while and sat on a bench.

While the two rested, a few people passed by and complimented Alejandro. His partner did say he’ll get lots of women, and some said they loved his dog, but so did a few men. None of the men or women attracted him, but a guy with chin-length black hair approached him. Two teenage boys were with him, but the man seemed too young to be their father.

“Bucciarati, I don’t think Narancia should be taking a break from studying,” said the golden blond one. That kid looked familiar.

“Come on, Fugo! I’ve been studying for weeks. Give me a break!” said the purple-eyed boy. Hmm, that name sounds familiar too. Abbacchio couldn’t remember where, though.

“Fugo, let Narancia enjoy his break,” said Bucciarati, causing the blond to sigh. He turned to face Abbacchio. “You don’t mind if I sit next to you, do you?”

“I don’t mind,” Abbacchio replied.

He sat next to him. “Thanks, I’ve been walking around all day. Fugo, Narancia, you guys can do whatever.”

The teenage boys ran off, leaving the two men alone.

“Are they family?” Abbacchio asked.

“No, they’re friends of mine. By the way, cute dog. Are you a police officer?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“I see lots of cops with German Shepards, so I just assumed. Sorry. I didn’t introduce myself, but I think you heard Fugo say my name. In case you didn’t, I’m Bruno Bucciarati.”

“I’m Leone Abbacchio. How much do you know about German Shepards? I just got this dog recently; Alejandro is his name.”

“Probably as much as you do, but it can’t be that hard to take care of a dog.” Bruno petted Alejandro on the head, causing the dog to roll over to have his belly rubbed. He smiled. “Aw, look. He’s opening up to me.”

“You can rub his belly if you like. He seems to like you a lot.”

Alejandro barked, communicating that he did.

“Hmm, I’m not sure why he likes you,” Abbacchio continued. “Alejandro never acted like this to the other pedestrians who walked passed us. You must be a good person.”

Bruno had a doubtful look, which confused Abbacchio. “You sure about that? Can a dog truly tell who is a good person?” He brought a hand to the dog’s mouth.

“You seem like a decent guy to me. Alejandro would’ve bit your hand off if you were a bad guy. Last night, some pimp almost shot my dog, but I shot him before that could happen.”

“Wow, that must’ve been intense. Are you alright?”

“I focused on protecting Alejandro. I didn’t start shaking until after I turned that bastard in. At least we get a few days to bond before we return to work. I wish I could tell how he’s doing, though. I never did ask him if he’s okay, and it’s not like he can say yes.”

“Alejandro, are you okay?” Bruno asked.

The dog barked.

“Is that a yes or a no?” asked Abbacchio.

Bruno giggled. “I’m going to assume that’s a yes. Your dog looks happy. Just wondering, does stuff like that always happen?”

“No, it rarely happens. That was the first time, and I would like it to be the last time, but it’s probably going to happen again.”

“Well,” Bruno said, “I wish I could protect you and your dog, but you’ll probably get in trouble for bringing a civilian to a gunfight. Narancia and Fugo are coming this way. Abbacchio, right? It was nice knowing you. I would love to get to know you more. Maybe we could go out for coffee tomorrow?”

“Sure!” Abbacchio said without thinking. Maybe it was his charming smile that he couldn’t say no.

“Keep care of that dog of yours. And as for Alejandro,” he said, bending down to pet him, “keep an eye on your handsome owner. Don’t want anything happening to him.”

Bruno got up and left with the two teenage boys.

Abbacchio blushed. Oh my gosh! He was right! I thought it was some stupid shit he made up.

It was getting late, and Abbacchio and Alejandro left.

#jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #bruno bucciarati #leone abbacchio #heritagefebruabba23 #bruabba #bruno x abbacchio #abbacchio x bruno #jjba fanfiction #jjba fanfic #jojo's bizarre adventure fanfiction

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spicykat9 · 10 months

Text

Got a Secret, Can You Keep It?

Rating: M (just to be safe)

Pairing: GerEng

Word Count: 940

Read on AO3

Chapter 6

Silence. Or what felt like silence to the static in Ludwig’s ears as he walked next to Arthur. He didn't know what to do with his hands, clasping them behind his back, then letting them fall to the side, then repeating the first position.

“We’re…We’re still friends, right?” Ludwig asked softly.

Arthur laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “For someone who’s going to be some sharp engineer one day, you still don’t get it.”

“Arthur, I get this whole situation is weird. And I am ready to give you whatever space you need. But you have to tell me instead of getting all huffy.”

Arthur was quiet for a moment. “I…I can’t.”

Ludwig grabbed Arthur’s arm, forcing him to stop. Arthur tensed under his grip. Ludwig pulled Arthur towards him, the force spinning the man to face him.

Despite the hard look Arthur was giving him, his cheeks were bright red. There was something in those eyes of him. Desperation almost? Ludwig couldn’t say for sure. Arthur was…trembling.

“What’s the matter?” Ludwig asked, hold loosening slightly.

“I don’t want to ruin anything…”

“Arthur, if you don’t tell me, we won’t be able to fix this.”

Arthur looked away and took a deep breath. “So…You said you liked my videos right? And don’t get apologetic or over-explain. Yes or no?”

Ludwig straightened up. “I…Yes. I–”

“Don’t start.” Arthur took in another breath. “Do you…Were you…Are you…God. What are your feelings towards me? Knowing that I…That you’ve been…”

“I…I don’t know. I…I think you look great right now.” Ludwig couldn’t help but look his friend up and down. Even with a trench coat on, his calves were still bare and visible. Thin but with a nice curve thanks to all their working out together. Was it weird to find that attractive?

“You…Um…always looked great I guess” Ludwig continued, snapping his attention back to Arthur's face. “B-But I don’t mean–And there isn’t any hiding that I liked your videos, which has to mean something. And it hurt when we…when I pushed you away and when you started avoiding me. It could just be platonic but…”

Arthur rested his hand on top of Ludwig’s. “Can I…try something?”

Ludwig’s cheeks were set ablaze, his gaze drifting to Arthur’s lips as he crept closer. “Sure,” Ludwig breathed.

Distance closed, Arthur brushed his lips against Ludwig’s. You could barely call it a kiss. But Ludwig still stumbled slightly when it ended after a few short seconds.

“I…I’ve liked you for a while now." Arthur looked away. "More than a friend. Why do you think I have been fretting over you so much?”

“Friends do–”

“Yes, yes friends do but…I don’t know. I thought I was obvious. and you just weren’t interested, so I never said anything. So when you said you watched my videos I was hoping…maybe…I had a chance.”

“Arthur…”

“But if it was only a sexual thing. I get that too.”

“Do it again.”

“What?”

Ludwig grabbed Arthur’s hand, bringing them to his own cheeks. “Do it again.”

“O…kay…”

Arthur leaned in again, thumbs stroking Ludwig's cheeks before his hands moved down to fist Ludwig’s jacket in a death grip. Kissing longer. He pushed into Ludwig. Ludwig stumbled back, the wall of a building catching him and keeping him upright. Arms wrapped around Arthur’s waist, stabilizing the two as their lips collided in hunger. Tongues twirled together. Bodies pressed together as close as possible.

Ludwig was left dizzy when Arthur pulled away.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that,” Arthur laughed, going back to cradling Ludwig’s face.

“If I’m honest…I was thinking about it too since you opened the door…looking like this.”

Arthur smirked. “Is that so?”

Ludwig nodded shyly.

Arthur grinned widely, his whole face glowing, but slowly it became a scowl. “Fuck. If I didn’t have work, I’d take you somewhere nice and…”

“And…”

Arthur scratched the back of his head, a sheepish smile on his face. “That may be moving too quickly.”

Ludwig’s cheeks heated up, mind immediately going to the gutter. All the scenes he had just watched in the videos, he could now carry out, in real life, with the very man who starred in them. A man he trusted deeply. But Arthur was right. If they were going down this path, they needed to do it right. With Arthur, he didn’t want this to just be a short-term thing or something solely based on lust.

Timidly, Ludwig took Arthur’s hands, squeezing them. “Well…Perhaps after…You could come to my house. We can get take away. See where the rest of the night takes us?”

Arthur smirked, lifting Ludwig’s hands to his lips and kissing them. “I look forward to it.”

Keeping hold of one of the hands, Arthur tugged Ludwig along as they continued on their way to the studio.

It was a little brick place with its entrance down an alleyway just before you reached the end of Main Street. It wasn’t one of the creepy, dark alleyways. After all, Francis always had to add a touch of flare, and that usually meant bright lights. But it also kept his employees safe combined with the security cameras that kept watch.

Ludwig pulled his hand away. “I…guess I should be going now.”

“You could always…come in…and wait?”

Ludwig blushed slightly, stepping back.

Arthur let out an awkward laugh. “Too much?”

“A little.”

Arthur’s cheeks were red too, making Ludwig feel a little less uneasy. Arthur caressed Ludwig’s cheek softly. Up on his toes, he kissed Ludwig’s cheek sweetly, a complete 180 from the words that just left his mouth before.

Ludwig didn’t want to leave that tender touch.

#hetalia #hws #gereng #engger #geruk #hws england #hws germany #got a secret can you keep it #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #my writing #suggestive

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bisexualbumblebee-writes · 1 year

Text

The Insiders Chapter 18: Off to the Rodeo- Darry Curtis x Ruth Bellows

Word Count: 2.4k

July 10, 1965

“You ready?” Darry asked as he walked out to the living room, where Ruth sat already dressed and ready to go.

“Have been,” the woman retorted with a teasing grin. “I thought girls were supposed to be the ones to take forever to get ready.”

“I’m taking my sweet time,” he joked in response, slicking back the sides of his hair and grabbing his keys. “It’s gonna be a fun day.”

“I’m excited,” she agreed as she walked out. As usual, he held the doors open for her, for which she thanked him as she climbed into the truck. Darry climbed into the passenger seat and honked the horn, signaling the others to hurry up. While Ponyboy and Piper climbed into the backseat Dally, Tuesday, Soda and Charlie got into the bed of the truck. Once they were all in, Darry drove off towards the fair. As Ruth glanced out the window she sighed happily.

“Oh, I just love fairs,” she gushed.

“I’ve only been there once,” Darry admitted, making her look at him in surprise.

“Really?” The man nodded.

“Really, I went with my parents and Soda before Pony was born,” he responded with a fond smile. “Soda could barely walk.”

“Aww Dar,” Ruth cooed. “Well this is gonna be a lot of fun. I used to go every year with my parents until I graduated high school. I think it’ll be more fun with you guys, though.”

“I can’t believe I’m letting Soda be in a rodeo,” he laughed softly.

“It’ll be great, he’ll do amazing,” she responded confidently.

“Yeah, but what kind of guardian am I?”

“A good one. You’re letting him do something he wants, and he’ll be safe while doing it because he’s been practicing nonstop,” she answered with a small, reassuring smile.

“I guess,” Darry shrugged as he pulled up to the fairgrounds and parked.

“Best part is that it’s free admission since Dal and Soda are competing,” she added with a toothy grin.

“Good, those two are finally useful,” he retorted. Ruth giggled then hopped out to go check in with the rodeo team and grab their admission bracelets. By the time she got back the others were out of the truck and waiting for her to pass them out, which she did before repeating what the official she talked to told her.

“Alright guys,” she said loud enough for everyone to hear. “Rodeo starts right at 8:00. Dally and Soda, you need to be with the other competitors by 7:00 or 7:30 to prepare. Horse riding comes first then bulls immediately after. Until then you guys are okay to do whatever you want. Got it?”

“Alright mom,” Darry joked, pushing her arm gently. The woman huffed jokingly and returned the gesture.

“Alright losers, get lost.” She watched as they all ran inside, then looked at Darry when he grabbed her hand.

“C’mon, let’s unwind and have some fun. They can handle themselves,” he said with a relaxed smile. It was a kind of smile she hadn’t seen since before his parents passed, and the mere sight made her grin herself.

“Come on then,” she giggled, leading him inside.

“I’m so happy I get to share this time with you,” Darry muttered fondly.

“I am too,” she responded in the same tone, kissing his cheek. “What would you like to do first?”

“Let’s get you a carnival prize,” he answered after a moment. “I’ll win you something.”

“Okay,” she giggled. “Pick your game.” After looking around he led her over to one of those games with a hammer and a bell.

“I’m gonna win big for you,” he bragged with a bright smile.

“Really now?” She asked amusedly, crossing her arms.

“Really,” he reaffirmed, paying the vendor and taking the hammer.

“Alright then. Go for it baby,” she cheered. Darry nodded and turned back to the game, bringing the hammer down. Ruth shouldn’t have been surprised when he maxed out the game, but she did laugh when he stepped back and posed like a Greek god.

“Don’t ever underestimate the power of Darrel Curtis!” He chanted. The woman giggled as she clapped for him.

“I stand corrected.”

“Pick whatever prize you want, I’m off the menu though,” he joked.

“Dang, I was really hoping I could have you,” she teased as she picked out a large stuffed elephant.

“Well, maybe, just for today” he said with a laugh, kissing the top of her head before leading her away. They walked in contented silence for a few minutes, just staying happy with each other’s presence as they watched the carnival goers.

“This is so nice,” Darry muttered, breaking the silence.

“It is. It’s nice to forget about your worries for one night, huh?” She agreed.

“Really is. Truly,” he nodded as he led her to sit at a bench. Ruth smiled fondly at him then kissed his cheek. The man hummed thoughtfully as he wrapped an arm around her.

“You ever think about having kids or getting married?” He asked. “Like watching your kids run around in places like this and just being- being happy?”

“A few times,” she admitted with a nod. “But I want to make sure both you and me are ready for it and that we want kids.” Her using ‘you’ instead of ‘my husband’ made Darry blush a pretty shade of red.

“Gee, I didn’t mean that soon” he muttered, a little embarrassed. “I feel like I’ve already got kids on my hands.” Despite the fact that he tried to play it off as a joke, both he and Ruth knew that at least part of him was telling the truth. The woman smiled softly and nodded.

“Well duh, I mean after that Dar. Of course I don’t want kids yet.”

“That’s good. To be honest, if you asked me twice I’d probably just say yes, and that would be a predicament,” he admitted with a laugh, earning a laugh from her as well.

“Oh my god, Dar,” she shook her head amusedly. Darry nudged her a bit.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve decided that I’m the one at least,” he teased.

“Of course I did. I only date to marry,” she retorted as if it were obvious.

“Oh, well my bad,” he chuckled. “I’ve had a few girls in my life who didn’t think the same.” Ruth shrugged.

“Well they weren’t me.”

“They weren’t. They sure weren’t.”

“I’m better?”

“Far better. Some of those girls didn’t have a brain in their head,” he answered with a shrug, making her smile.

“Yeah, sometimes those girls are just looking for a pretty face to match theirs.”

“you callin’ my face pretty?”

“Maybe” she shrugged noncommittally. Darry chuckled and kissed her cheek.

“You’re a sweetheart,” he muttered. “I think we’re perfect for one another, Ruth.” The woman couldn’t even begin to conceal her joy at his words.

“I think so too, Darry. I really do love you,” she admitted quietly. The man looked down at her with a look that she could only describe as adoration.

“I love you too,” he responded in the same tone.

“And I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” she continued before looking down embarrassedly. “You know, I had the biggest crush on you in high school.”

“Oh I know,” he said, laughing. “I was just too nervous to ask out a soc. My mom bought flowers for me to give to you one time and I threw ‘em in the garbage after I saw you cause I got so nervous.”

“Aww Darry that is so sweet,” she giggled. “I don’t think it helped our relationship any, though. For the longest time I thought you didn’t like me because anytime I wanted to talk to you you’d avoid me.”

“Avoid is a strong word,” Darry defended. “I don’t know, I was pretty nervous. I had some other boys threatening me too, not that I was scared, but you were a hot commodity and I didn’t wanna screw it up. If me yelling at Tuesday and Sodapop like that didn’t get you to run I suppose nothing will.”

“Darry my family’s Italian,” she retorted in a flat tone. “It takes a lot more than a screaming match to chase me away.”

“Hopefully things are smooth sailing for a while,” the man concluded, making her nod as she took a quick glance at her watch.

“Rodeo is about to start, we should head over,” she said, standing. Darry agreed and they stood, heading towards the stadium. They ended up finding Ponyboy and Piper on the way there so they walked into the stadium with them.

“You think Soda will be okay?” The younger Curtis boy asked as they took their seats.

“Hell if I know, if he’s not I’ll kick his teeth in for making me say yes.” Once again he said it in a joking way, but both he and Ruth knew there was some truth to it. Nevertheless, the woman laughed softly.

“Way to kick a guy while he’s down,” she joked shortly before the rodeo began. It didn’t take long for her to notice the way Darry was sitting. He looked equal parts nervous and stressed. He didn’t wanna have to jump down there and carry his kid brother out. Without saying anything at first she took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently in an attempt to comfort him.

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” she said gently once his attention was on her. For a moment the man just sat there, but he ultimately nodded.

“Yeah…” he trailed off slowly as his eyes met hers. “Yeah you’re right.” The couple shared a smile before facing forward again. First came the calf tying, then came the barrel racing, which was Soda’s event. And, to everyone’s surprise, he set a new record!

“And with that Sodapop Curtis ends at 12.36 seconds, making it the new record!” The announcer exclaimed. Sodapop laughed a little in disbelief as he climbed out of the pen. Ruth, meanwhile, had jumped to her feet and cheered as loud as she could along with Ponyboy. Darry stood after a moment and followed their lead, though he was much more restrained. The woman didn’t notice as she faced him with the biggest ecstatic smile on her face.

“He did it!” She yelled excitedly, grabbing his arm.

“He did it,” he repeated with a firm nod, eyes staying on his younger brother. Ruth knew what he wanted to do.

“If you wanna go to him I can save your seat,” she informed him. Darry didn’t need to be told twice before he jogged down the stairs towards Soda and Charlie, who were hugging. The woman watched them talk for a while as the rest of the rodeo’s events continued. Darry finally made his way back to her as the announcer informed the stands about Dally, who was bull riding that night.

“Well I feel a world better, and I’m pretty tired too,” he laughed as he plopped back down in his seat.

“I’m sure everyone else will be too by the time this is over,” she responded amusedly. Darry nodded in agreement, then grabbed his keys.

“C’mon, let’s go wait in the lot. Too many people here,” he said, standing up. Ruth nodded and informed Ponyboy and Piper of what they’d be doing. The younger couple nodded, saying that they’d leave when the others left, then Darry and Ruth were out of there. As they walked back to the car the woman didn’t miss the way her boyfriend kept yawning.

“Want me to drive home?” She offered. “I think I have more energy than you.”

“That’d be swell,” he nodded before laughing. “I’m about half dead.” Ruth laughed with him and patted his shoulder before hopping into the truck, him sliding into the passenger seat afterward.

“Wow, it feels odd to sit here,” he admitted amusedly. “I stopped letting Soda drive cause he kept wearing out my breaks, stopping so fast.”

“Why am I not surprised?” She asked with an amused grin.

“You shouldn’t be, that kid lives life in the fast lane.”

“Have you ever let Tuesday drive?”

“God no,” he laughed. “She’d tear up my truck too. Plus, I’m too scared to watch that kid grow up.” Ruth was simultaneously surprised and not surprised by his confession.

“Dar, honey, you’re gonna have to let them grow up at some point,” she muttered with a sympathetic look.

“Well I know,” he sighed. “It just makes me feel so… out of touch? Or I guess helpless?”

“I get it, I really do. But don’t forget you also have your own life to think about. At some point you’ll need to loosen the reign on your sibling’s lives and worry about yours.”

“I’m worried they’ll just leave. I’m surprised Soda has hung around, ‘specially with Charlie and all that- I just don’t want the house to be so empty, I don’t want them making the wrong choices…” He trailed off in thought before continuing in a much quieter tone. “I don’t wanna let my parents down.”

“You’re not gonna let your parents down, Darry,” Ruth stated without hesitation. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you’re doing your best with them and that’s all your parents would have wanted. But I don’t think they’d like you putting your life on hold to keep them in line. People are supposed to make mistakes sometimes, that’s how they grow.” Darry could do little more than laugh, voice slightly pained, once she finished speaking. He didn’t quite know what to say to her. Thankfully he didn’t have to say anything as the others finally reached the truck and climbed in.

“Let’s go.” The woman nodded and pulled out of the parking lot, heading for the Curtis home. A small smile slipped onto her face when she felt a familiar hand slide onto her thigh lazily, and she glanced at her boyfriend out of the corner of her eye every so often.

“I love you, Ruth,” Darry said. Despite the fact that it was barely audible it still managed to break the peaceful silence. Not that Ruth was mad about it.

“I love you too, Darry.” The man grinned.

“Why don’t we walk down to the duck pond tomorrow after work?” He asked. “I’ll set up a picnic, we can feed the ducks, it’ll be great.”

The duck pond he was referring to was sort of hidden away in a park roughly fifteen minutes from the Curtis house. According to Darry it was somewhere that their parents used to take them to when they were younger. When they passed the Curtis siblings sort of used it as a place to hide away when they wanted to remember the happy memories of their parents. Darry had shown it to her not long after her dad passed, hoping that it would bring comfort to her the way it did for him. Ruth’s smile widened as she nodded.

“I’d like that a lot,” she responded softly as she pulled into the driveway. “For now, though, let’s get to bed. I’m exhausted.”

“As the lady wishes,” Darry chuckled before hopping out of the truck. He opened the door for her and helped her out, then they both went up to bed and fell asleep content in each other’s arms.

#the outsiders #the outsiders imagine #darry curtis #darry curtis imagine #darry curtis x oc

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angelfic · 3 years

Text

— INTO THE BLOGOSPHERE.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x female reader

summary: peter’s crush is now his chem partner. complicated? not until he finds her blog dedicated to a certain masked vigilante.

warnings: swearing, mild violence, peter being an idiot, reader being an idiot, shitty writing

author’s note: this is a repost! as requested by anon a while ago! please excuse the terrible writing, i did this on no hours of sleep. happy reading! - ni x

Peter didn’t mean to look at your laptop.

He swears it was a complete accident that he found your blog, but really isn’t it your fault that you left it open?

In fact, he can’t feel too guilty because you did say he could use it to search whatever he needed for your joint project while you went to go find your notebook. Well, that reason and the fact he feels like he’s going to be sick.

Peter isn’t too surprised. Because, of course, it’s just his luck that his Chemistry partner and crush since forever has a Spider-Man blog. Not only that, but he knows you. In the least stalkerish way possible, especially considering he doubts you even knew his name before you were partnered up. You've been partners for the whole academic year thus far, so he can say you're definitely on a friend level. But he would be lying if he said he hadn't noticed you before that. He knows that you volunteer for everything, you’re always doing something or other for charity, always pinning up petitions to the notice boards and asking people for signatures with your bright and cheerful disposition.

Shit, if he wasn’t Spider-Man, Peter would be ashamed at his lack of charity work compared to you!

So, really, he can’t be surprised that you’re a fan of Spider-Man. He helps people, so obviously you have a blog dedicated to posting think pieces about the guy. The guy being him.

The thought makes him smile before he snaps out of it, realising you don’t even know that side of him.

And for that he has to be a little grateful, Peter thinks to himself as his spidey senses thankfully pick up your footsteps and he jumps back onto the bed. A couple seconds later you bound into your room, blowing your hair out of your eyes and offering an apologetic smile that almost blinds him, because it’s literally like the goddamn sun itself.

“Sorry, I took so long. I couldn’t find this notebook for the life of me,” you say a little breathlessly. The smile you give him is so sweet that he instantly feels guilty again for finding your blog. "Did you find what we were looking for online? Or do we need to face our school librarian, because I swear that woman has something against-"

You cut yourself off when you catch sight of your screen, still displaying pictures of the vigilante who is currently sat on the edge of your bed about to break into nervous hives.

“Ah, this is embarrassing,” you say, scrunching your nose, and slowly turning to face Peter. “I’m a bit of a fan.”

Peter almost breaks a rib with the slowness at which he lets out the breath he’s been holding and smiles at you. “Me too, actually. You don’t, yknow… think he’s ruining our city then?”

“God, no!” You exclaim, plopping down on your chair and clutching the edges as you lean in slightly to ramble. “I wasn’t sure at first, ‘cause I mean, masked man in a spandex suit? Super weird, right? But I’ve been following him on the news and seeing how he works! It seems like he’s using some type of tracker to see where the nearest danger zones are and going after them. I’ve even started to predict where he’s going to go next, like where he usually patrols and where the most crime happens.”

The way you barely stop for breath has Peter silent and smiling to himself, but you mistake it for something else and your expression falters.

“Sorry, it’s super nerdy,” you say through a nervous chuckle. “I just think he’s a really good person, even though I don’t actually know him… I don’t know, it’s silly.”

“No, no, it isn’t.” Suddenly, Peter wants you to know that he’s Spider-Man. He wants to be the reason your cheeks are tinted with a rosy blush. Him. Peter Parker. Not the masked guy. “I, uh, actually think it’s really cool.”

Your smile slowly returns.

“Thanks,” you say shyly, repeating your habit of tucking your hair behind your ear. “You’re actually the only person who knows about this blog.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Peter promises, making a gesture of locking his lips and throwing away the key. “Hey, you’re kinda like a vigilante yourself now. Do your predictions ever come true?”

“Sometimes,” you nod eagerly, pulling up some bookmarked pages and pointing them out to Peter who, of course, recognises himself. “But they’re just coincidences. I only really make them for my followers and because I find it interesting. I highly doubt Spider-Man is reading my blog.”

You scrunch your nose again and Peter finds it so adorable that he can only blame this action on the next words that come out of his mouth.

“Well, you never know.”

Over the next few days, after going home from school and working on the Chemistry project with you, Peter finds himself frequenting your blog, wanting to see yet another part of you.

The effort that you clearly invest in articles and predictions and pictures of Spider-Man makes Peter engrossed in scrolling through every single post - nothing to do with him being the subject, but rather he feels you deserve to have every word read and appreciated. Especially since it is dedicated to him.

Absentmindedly flicking the page back to the top so he can close the page and leave for his night patrols, Peter notices the latest prediction post.

He halts in his movements, considering the post for a second.

Damn.

It makes a lot of sense.

Your prediction is carefully thought out and perfectly calculated and it just makes a lot of sense to follow it and patrol in those places rather than where he normally begins. What harm could it do...?

Peter usually has a route that he follows, but it isn’t always fruitful. He plans it based on whatever’s closest for crying out loud!

Cursing under his breath, Peter grabs his suit and changes before locking his door and climbing out of the fire escape and into the night.

The first place he swings over to is the alley way next to a shady convenience store and an abandoned building - some failed business. He waits at the top of the roof, watching cautiously yet ready to leave if nothing turns up.

“Huh,” Peter nods in respect to your ‘guy in the chair’ skills that you don’t even know you have when he spots a suspiciously dressed in black man with a suitcase step out to meet another darkly clad individual entering the alley.

The man doesn’t even need to pull the object out of the suitcase for Peter to know it’s a weapon, all thanks to his enhanced sense of hearing. He not only picks up on the fact that it’s a gun, but an unlicensed, very illegal gun, about to be used for very illegal reasons.

Peter sighs, knowing he won’t be having one his blissful, crime free nights tonight. He really needs to get started on that English Lit essay.

Before the last combination on the suitcase is punched in, Peter jumps and silently lands behind one of the men. The one opposite him spots him and starts cursing and yelling incoherent sentences, pointing him out to the one with the suitcase.

“You got a real way with the words, dude,” Peter deadpans, not wasting a second before webbing him in the mouth with one hand and webbing the other guy’s hand to his suitcase. The guy who is now also wildly alert and attempting to get the gun out by pulling at the webs. “Yeah, that web’s not coming off, man. Just stop struggling. It’s humiliating for the both of u- Y’know what.”

Webbing the supposed buyer’s hand to the wall to stop him interfering, Peter proceeds to face the seller with his hands up. “I’m gonna pull out your cell phone now... It’s better if you don’t struggle.”

“Get back!” he yells, whipping out a knife and Peter sighs, exasperated. “I’ll stab you before you can take one step further, Spider-Man.”

“I don’t really appreciate your tone,” Peter says, placing a hand over his heart in mock offence. “And I don’t think you quite appreciate the concept of my webs, so you really can’t blame me for this.”

And with that, Peter’s webs attach to the knife and pull it out of the criminal’s hand, tossing it to the ground behind him. He spins around in an attempt to run over and pick it up, but Peter is already there, twisting his hand behind his back and forcing him to the ground.

“I asked nicely, dude,” Peter huffs, feeling around for the cell phone to alert the police, easily restraining the struggling thug with one hand. “People like you are embarrassing the criminal name, like why do you even try? Why do I even try? I should- Oh, hi, yeah. Can I have the police please?”

The rest of the night goes almost exactly like your predictions, give or take a couple spots and Peter knows he’s going to be frequenting your blog a lot more soon enough.

You don’t know what to do.

For the past week, your predictions and speculations have had a crazy increase in visits from Spider-Man. It’s almost like he’s reading your blog and you have no idea how to process that.

The idea of a man in a red and blue spandex suit sitting in front of a computer and reading your blog makes you snort and you wonder what other reasons there could be.

Your followers haven’t increased hugely in number this week, so it could just be a coincidence, but when you think back to how Peter Parker found out about the blog and how you’ve been filling him in on the recent occurrences, other theories start to pop up in your mind.

Does Peter know Spider-Man?

It honestly wouldn’t be the most surprising thing in the world if they did know each other, you think. Peter had always kept to himself. You noticed him a long time before you were partnered up for Chemistry and always wanted to get to know the cute photographer for the school paper. You often wrote articles for it and got to see Peter’s photos before the final picks were chosen and you wondered how someone so talented, smart and - let’s face it - good looking wasn’t constantly dealing with attention from girls and guys alike.

Now that you’d been getting to know him every day, you were constantly being positively surprised by different parts of his personality that came out. Why wouldn’t he know Spider-Man?

Earlier today, you’d told him before class about your recent excitement and his response had been just as shocked as you. This doesn’t really mean much though, considering the fact that if he knows Spider-Man, he’s a good enough actor to pretend he doesn’t.

You had posted your latest predictions a few minutes ago, having mapped them out today. If Spider-Man would show up like you thought, was there really any harm in visiting a danger zone?

And if he was there, you can’t miss out on the chance to ask him a few questions.

It’s enough incentive for you to abandon your homework for the night, throw on a hoodie and sneak out of the front door.

You aren’t a very tough person. Nothing about you is aggressive or intimidating, so the nerves are really starting to set in once you’ve made your way to a very shady, very empty parking lot.

Making sure not to draw attention to yourself, you decide to wait by a dumpster. Not the best for your nose, but you’d rather that than be wrong in your calculations and get kidnapped. Or murdered. Or both.

This doesn’t seem like the best idea all of a sudden.

You’re in the middle of cursing yourself for being so impulsive and getting 911 ready on your phone when you hear the whistling.

Shit. Shit shit shit sh-

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?”

The voice belongs to a stocky middle aged man in a dusty old raincoat with uneven stubble and a sleazy smile plastered on his face.

Yeah, you’re going to die tonight.

“My friend is actually waiting for me over there,” you say in a voice that surprisingly doesn’t waver, pointing to a random far off point. You don’t make it a single step forward before the man grabs your wrist. “Hey, get off! My friend is right there-”

“There’s no one around here this time of night, little girl,” he slurs with a greasy smirk as he leers at you. “Your ‘friend’ doesn’t exist now, does she?”

“I prefer going by ‘he’ if you don’t mind,” calls out none other than Spider-Man himself from behind the creep who still has a hold on you. When he whips around to look at the vigilante, the masked hero tilts his head and wiggles his fingers at him. “Hiiiii.”

Without releasing his hold on you, the guy stands with his back turned to you and you do the only thing you can think of.

“Get lost, Spidey, or I- Fuck!”

“Oh, shit,” Spider-Man winces when the man exclaims from the pain of you driving your knee with all the force you can muster right in between his knees. “God, I can’t even look,” he says, covering his face with one hand and webbing the man’s hands to where he’s clutching his crotch with the other.

You stand there silent with shock through the whole ordeal of the cops being called and the creep being webbed to the dumpster so he couldn’t run.

“Are you okay?” the masked vigilante asks you once he’s led you away and out of sight from where the cops will show up. “What the hell were you doing out at this time alone?”

The previous humour that was in his voice is no longer there, snapping you out of your silence.

“I wanted to see if you would show up,” you say, frowning. While you say this angrily, the end of your sentence falters slightly since you realise how stupid it sounds. “I, uh, needed to ask you something…”

“So you decided to present yourself to a creep?!” he whisper-yells, making you splutter. “God, Y/N. There are other ways of getting my attention, y’know!”

“Okay, first of all, I didn’t know he was going to be here! And second, how do you know my name?” you demand, furrowing your brows. His silence only confirms your previous speculations — Spider-Man and Peter Parker are friends. “Oh my God, I was right! I knew it…”

“Y-you know?” he stutters, tensing visibly and your eyes go wide because holy shit, you actually were right. “Y/N, I am so sorry. I-I didn’t mean to find your blog that day, but it was just so helpful, so I had to start following it and it just made it so hard for me to face you in Chemistry every day, you have no idea-”

“What?” you whisper in a strained voice, not quite believing your ears. Okay, maybe you weren’t completely right.

“Wh- Fuck. Ignore everything I just said,” Spider-Man rushes out, making panicked gestures with his hands.

“Peter?” you hiss, before gasping and taking a step forward. “Are you… is that you under there?”

“No.”

“Peter!” you bite out, slapping his arm. “Take off the mask, there’s no one here.”

Reluctantly and slowly, Peter removes the mask, hesitantly pulling it up from his neck and over his head and there he is. Your Chem partner and - it’s time you admitted it - crush.

“Okay. Okay, I was completely off base here,” you nod, swallowing harshly. “I think I’m gonna pass out, because what? You’re Spider-Man?”

“Not really a fact I go around advertising,” Peter groans, dragging a hand across his face. “What did you think was the deal here?”

You shrug, feeling stupid again. “I thought you were friends with Spider-Man and that’s how you found out about my blog.”

“That would have been a smarter explanation,” Peter sighs. He stays silent for a beat before looking at you with a newfound determination in his eyes. “Y’know what? I have something to tell you.”

“Something other than ‘I’m a masked vigilante who goes around saving people when I’m not in high school’?” you ask, weakly.

“I like you.” Peter blinks. He takes a deep breath before continuing, as though he’s nervous and you honestly don’t blame him. You kind of feel like you’re about to throw up. “I like how you’re smart and crazy kind and you put all that effort into your blog ‘cause, I mean, it helped me out majorly. I also think you’re really fucking pretty and I don’t know how you haven’t noticed me staring at you for months.”

“I noticed,” is the only thing you can think of to say, which makes you grimace. The guy who you like just told you he liked you in detail and that’s what you come up with? “I was staring at you too. Just less obviously.”

“Oh,” he gulps. The corners of his mouth start to lift and you have to fight off your own smile. “So… does that mean…?”

“It means I want you to swing me out of his shady place and kiss me somewhere nice, Parker.”

His smile stretches to a full blown grin and he wraps his arms around your waist. Little tingles start to form where his hands rest and you can’t hold back your laughter. “That can be arranged.”

“Fly away, Spider-Boy,” you look into his sparkling brown eyes and cling onto his shoulders for support, ready for lift off.

“Yeah, we’ll work on the pet names for each other.”

tag list: @pogueslandia @third-broparcelicito @uglyasswoman @wonderlandhatter @wecallhimbrowneyess @infinitelyforgotten @galacticstxrdust @irlpadfoot @ilistentotayswifttocope

drop me an ask to be added ♡

#peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield spiderman x reader #the amazing spider man #andrew garfield spiderman #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagines #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #tasm peter x reader #tasm x reader #andrew garfield imagines #the amazing spiderman x reader

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neoculturetravesty · 3 years

Text

no one wishes at the snow

Image taken from here.

Pairing: Jaehyun x SingleMother!Reader, Doyoung x Reader Genre: single parent au, fake marriage au, second lead syndrome, angst, romance, one smut scene, some fluff Warnings: 18+, protected sex, oral (male receiving) Word Count: 18k

Summary: Marrying for love was for the fortunate few. Marrying for love happened in fairytales and movies and dramas. Not real life. In real life, everyone married for convenience.

A/N: Would you guys believe it if I told you I’ve been working on this fic since June? I have no idea why it took so long, and perhaps I’ll never truly finish it the way I’d like to. But I just wanted to let it out into the world. Maybe I’ll revisit the story again when the inspiration hits, but for now, I wanted at least one version of it to be out and be free and take life. I hope you guys like it!

Some would call it a marriage of convenience. Others would call it a contract marriage. But you had wondered: weren’t all marriages basically a contract, anyway? What was marriage if not but a contract that could expire or be annulled or be broken? Who really married for love nowadays? Marrying for love was for the fortunate few. Marrying for love happened in fairytales and movies and dramas. Not real life. In real life, everyone married for convenience.

But by any definition of the term, your marriage to Jeong Jaehyun was a marriage of convenience. A contract marriage. Both of you knew what you wanted from it.

You wanted the protection the contract would bring you. Because you weren’t exactly the dim kind. You knew that being a young single mother in this country wouldn’t really open many doors for you. If it was any sign, your parents had been the first one to shut their doors. If your kin was quick to abandon, you couldn’t much rely on the kindness of strangers. Thus, though you had worked hard to survive so far, you had a cunning mind that told you that it was going to be an uphill all your life… unless you did something about it.

Jaehyun just wanted to secure his place in the family business. Because for whatever fucked up reason, his father wanted him to marry. Because old money farts still think that a young man is only capable once he has taken a wife. Otherwise, he is a reckless bachelor that’s going to drink and whore the family fortune away. If he had been just that, he might have actually found a real woman to love and marry. But he’d been too busy working his ass off to have that kind of privilege.

So you had met through a friend. You had had a series of meetings in which you learnt as much necessary information about one another that would appease Jaehyun’s family and your very small collection of friends. Though no one on either side was fooled, and though everyone could see the imbalances in this union, you supposed you had done a good enough job because a few weeks later, the papers were signed and you had moved into his apartment with your son in tow.

And your ‘marriage’ had begun.

The apartment wasn’t small by any means. It was as decent a two room space as you’d ever seen and it had a sizable living room as the main common area. You liked that the kitchen opened into a little terrace that made the apartment look bright from the natural light. It was comfortable and homey and in a world where nothing felt like home, this was all you could’ve asked for. However, a part of you recognized that as comfortable as this place was, it still didn’t have the luxury fit for a young heir. Perhaps because this particular heir hadn’t inherited the fortune in question yet. It was still better than any place that you had ever lived in, so you never had much to complain about.

Jaehyun lived quietly in his room. He left early in the morning and came late into the night and your only run-ins (if any) would be on the weekends. Otherwise, Jaehyun was good at making himself invisible, even in his own home.

You would live comfortably in your room with your son. While you had pretty much converted your space into a child’s room, you had been a little more respectful of your common areas and avoided visiting them much if you could help it. Your son didn’t mind… your room was already bigger than any place he’d lived in before. It was okay if he couldn’t spend much time in the living room.

You and your son lived your lives, Jaehyun lived his. You did your part of the cleaning, he did his part. You cooked for your son and yourself, Jaehyun cooked for himself (if ordering takeout counted as cooking). You shared the bills, and you paid your bit of the rent. You hardly even ran into one another, and that’s how you liked it. Both of you would stay clear of one another’s path.

But one Saturday morning, your son had woken you early so you had no choice but to get up and make pancakes. Jaehyun usually slept in on a Saturday, so you knew the coast would be clear when you made it to the kitchen. You brought the high chair out of your room and sat your son on it as you cooked and laid out a lovely weekend breakfast for the two of you on the table on the terrace. But maybe you had been too loud whilst cooking. Maybe your son had giggled too much. Maybe the delicious smell of your cooking had flooded the apartment, because right before you could start eating, you looked up to see Jaehyun stepping into the kitchen.

Wearing a white t-shirt, grey joggers and with bed hair sticking out at odd angles, he stood at the sliding door and said, “Oh, sorry. You guys are having breakfast…”

You looked up, “Uh yeah…” you began, “Do you wanna join?” you added, only to be polite because the man’s eyes were fixated on the food.

Jaehyun looked at the spread on the table and you smiled as he swallowed. It didn’t look like the face of a man that would willingly turn down the offer of a meal. “I’ve made way too much, so please,” you added.

“Oh… thank you. I like… I didn’t have time for dinner last night, so…” he said apologetically as he took a seat on the table.

Since you had moved in, this was the first time that you had sat together like this for a meal. You were surprised he actually accepted the offer. It should’ve felt awkward, but strangely, Jaehyun felt like more of a friendly presence than most of the people in your life. From him, there were never any judgements or intrusive comments about your choices or your failures or your parenting. The two of you could comfortably coexist without the burden of any sort of a relationship (other than the fact that you were married).

The three of you sat in comfortable silence that would only break when Minki would drop his fork or throw a tiny toddler tantrum asking for more syrup and some of your rice. Jaehyun ate heartily and observed you smiling as you alternated between feeding Minki and yourself.

He cleared his throat, “Um, how come… how come I’ve never seen his baby chair before?”

“Hmm? Oh… I usually take it back to the room in case I need it,” you replied as Minki grabbed your wrist to eat a syrup covered strawberry out of your hand.

“Doesn’t he… like… don’t you keep any of his things in the living room?” Jaehyun asked carefully yet curiously.

“Um… there are too many sharp edges and open sockets around… so I usually don’t let him out here unless it’s like this, to eat,” you explained.

“Oh… right…” Jaehyun nodded, looking back to his plate. He finished the last of his breakfast in silence and looked up. Strangely, in this moment, he felt like he should pay for this meal. Like now that he had eaten, he should ask for the check. The two of you never asked each other for favors; even if it were just a meal. All your accounts were even, down to the slightest of things. You were like two distant roommates, who weren’t held together by a marriage, just cohabitation.

“Uh…” he looked up, thinking of what to say to take his leave. Maybe he could stock up on the groceries he consumed, but saying it out loud seemed a little inappropriate. So, he went for a politer option, “... thanks for the breakfast. I’m going to head out for the day.”

You politely nodded and turned back to attending to your son. It was an odd sign off, because unless it directly affected the other, the two of you never had any reason to share your day’s plans like this. But as you would learn, Jeong Jaehyun was full of surprises. Because when you came home from work on Monday evening, you saw that the entire living room had been toddler proofed and a brand new bolster chair sat at the head of the breakfast table for Minki.

You hadn’t meant to iron his shirt for him. But you had run into him in the little laundry area of your apartment and you saw him struggling.

“Um… do you need a hand?” you asked hesitantly, hoping you weren’t stepping over any boundaries.

“Oh… uh, no, I think I’ll be fine. I’ll just be done in a minute…” he mumbled, trying to touch the edges of the iron onto a bit of the sleeve and effectively burning it. “Shit…”

You set Minki’s clothes down and became a little bolder in your offer of help. “The setting is too high for polyester,” you offered.

“I tried lowering it,” he answered dejectedly.

“Here, let me do it,” you held your hand out and he looked up.

“I can do it…” he muttered half-heartedly, so you just took the damn shirt from him and stepped in to lower the heat on the iron. You reached under and grabbed yourself a pressing cloth and placed it over it and got to work whilst he stood there, a little bashful and a little awkward.

“Uh… did you come here to do laundry?” he asked as he looked at the clothes you had set down.

“Yeah, I just had some of Minki’s things left to wash,” you replied as you pressed over the tricky fabric of Jaehyun’s shirt.

“I’ll wash them for you,” he replied with purpose and grabbed the clothes and headed for the washer, thinking this would call it even.

“Oh, no, no… you don’t have to do it,” you began, talking to him over your shoulder, “And no, no, no, not in the machine, please. I hand wash his clothes. It’s easier on the fabric,” you tried to tell him to get him to stop.

“Oh… okay… I’ll hand wash them,” he nodded and began to soak the clothes in the sink.

You felt a bit uneasy. You weren’t sure if you were comfortable with the favor or not. You had never allowed anyone to interfere in your business. But Minki’s? No one in this damn world could step in and interfere in his business, not if you could help it. As far as you were concerned, it was you and Minki against the world.

But they were just clothes. You had overstepped a boundary when you grabbed the iron from him. And he was only trying to return the favor because that’s how the two of you worked. There were no favors and no IOUs in this equation. So you flipped around almost instantly and pressed his freshly ironed shirt into his chest.

“Here, all done. Let me do this, because you have to use a different detergent and different water temperatures for baby clothes,” you didn’t look at him and took over the sink almost too quickly. But your tone had done enough to tell Jaehyun to back off and take his leave.

“Um… thanks for the help…” he said before he started walking away. If he had learnt anything from this encounter, it was that you didn’t appreciate help when it came to Minki. It set another invisible boundary amongst the many you two had for each other. But if Jaehyun were being truly honest with himself, this one broke his heart. Just a little.

Your workplace wasn’t exactly the fanciest of establishments. But it paid on time (which in your experience was a pretty important factor to be considered) and your coworkers were nice enough. Considering all the other jobs you had to do before, this one wasn’t too bad. Speaking multiple languages had its advantages, but being a translator was mundane and you spent most of your time in front of a computer. The biggest downside in this place, however, was that the office did not have an on-site daycare. Whilst you met up with HR on a weekly basis, begging them to start something that could help, you were also pretty sure that nothing would happen soon because starting an onsite daycare required spending some money and as of right now, you were the only employee with a toddler. Your only choice was to leave Minki in the daycare down the block. It was the nearest one you could find--but it ate up more of your paycheck than you could afford.

You had considered getting another job to make ends meet, but the longer you would work, the more money you’d have to pay the daycare. You looked for some work-from-home options and found some and you thought that things would start to look up soon. But then you received your actual paycheck, marked down a percentage because the Covid situation wasn’t kind to anyone, and all you could do was sit at your desk, head in hand.

“How the fuck am I supposed to pay rent this month?” you lamented as dread filled your body.

“I’m sure your husband could give you some leeway this time,” your coworker, Doyoung, cocked an eyebrow. If anyone had the slightest inkling about your situation, it was him. He had found out by accident and had been kind enough never to bring it up. But you had almost been relieved that there was someone in this world with whom you could have a true conversation and the poor guy had begrudgingly become your confidant.

You sighed heavily and felt your eyelids droop as they sometimes would in times of stress. Doyoung saw the anxiety physically weighing you down and took pity on you.

“Hey, you could borrow some money from me,” he offered.

“Doyoung, your own paycheck has been marked down,” you nearly yelled at him in misplaced agitation.

“Yeah, but I don’t have a kid to look after,” he retorted logically.

You sighed again, but gave his offer an actual thought. If you borrowed from him now, you’d have to return it. Who was to say you’d earn that amount of extra money this month or the next to pay him back? This was a bad idea.

“I’ll just… let me think about it, okay?” you sighed yet again and realized that you just needed to get some fresh air.

“Okay, but Y/N… try not to stress too much, okay? You can borrow from me and return like, whenever. It’s not a big deal,” he added empathetically as you got up.

“Yeah…” was all you could offer him because your mind was still busy budgeting and crunching numbers and planning.

You mind ran a million miles an hour as you picked Minki up and took him home. You kept thinking about it as you fed him and bathed him and put him to bed. And later, you couldn’t even sleep because your mind was way too active and all you wanted was for it to be morning time so you could get about finding some more work. When you tried and sleep still didn’t come, you got out of bed and took your laptop out in the living room and started to put some rhyme and reason to your thoughts. You made a budgeting sheet and saw how much of a deficit you were in. Once you had everything down, your mind calmed just a little. The difference wasn’t massive. You even had part of your rent. But you lived paycheck to paycheck. You weren’t like those fortunate ones that could tap into their savings when a problem like this arose. Maybe you could find some work to do online to earn some extra cash and make up the difference next month. You weren’t sure how Jaehyun would react to such a request. You weren’t even sure he’d honor it. But you sat in the living room anyway, waiting for him to come home. You thought about what you’d say to him as you searched about for any and all odd jobs you could do from home.

And soon as you heard the telltale signs of the apartment door being unlocked, you shot up to your feet.

“You’re home,” you remarked and realized in the same moment how everything about this may look and seem. But your night was about to be completely sleepless if you didn’t get to have this conversation now.

“Um… yes… I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” Jaehyun walked in carefully, like an intruder in his own home.

“Oh, no, I was just, um… I was waiting for you,” you said and saw the surprise in his tired eyes. The man wasn’t expecting to come home to something like this, that was for certain. You were usually in bed by this time, and Jaehyun typically dined on takeout or at least cracked open a beer before he went to bed. But you, still up, waiting on him? That was new.

“Oh… did you… did you want something?” he asked.

“Yeah, um… the thing is, um… do you wanna sit down?” you at least had the decency to ask because the poor man had literally just stepped in. He hadn’t even had the chance to take his shoes off before you had caught him off guard. So he nodded and did just that, although undoing one’s shoelaces seems more complicated a task when there is an audience. You had the good sense to look away when you saw his fingers lose their dexterity under your scrutiny. You used that time to take a few deep breaths instead.

He sat down then, his expression confused and waiting, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s okay, it’s just, um… my… my paycheck came today…” you began, taking a moment to think to formulate your next thoughts.

“Okay… that’s… that’s good…” was all Jaehyun could answer.

“Um… because of… because of Covid… it was a little marked down. So, like…” you took another deep breath and centered yourself so you could be a little more eloquent, “... basically, I’m a little behind on rent this month. I can pay two-thirds of it right now. But I’ve found some work and I’ll be able to pay you back the difference with next month’s rent. I just wanted to ask if I could do that. If not, I’ll have to take a loan from a friend, but I just thought to ask you before I… did that…” you finished, losing steam a little bit towards the end as you studied his face.

Jaehyun heard your words and tried to ground himself and really think about how he’d reply. Because truth be told, he was a little bit drunk. His father had asked him to take a foreign delegation out for dinner and he had downed a couple of drinks too many. He wasn’t hammered, but he wasn’t completely sober either. What you had told him seemed to be bothering you, and Jaehyun didn’t want to be the asshole that said the absolute worst thing in times like these. So he thought about his words through the haze that was slowing everything down for him.

Except you didn’t know he was drunk. All you saw was a man that was lost in thought. You felt your heart sinking and your pride swelling, so you said,

“I’ll just--”

At the same time he said,

“You don’t--”

There was a beat of silence in which you took another deep breath so your face wouldn’t harden to the point of impoliteness. But Jaehyun spoke again,

“You don’t have to make up the difference.”

“Oh, no, I will. It’s just this month. I will make up the difference,” you pressed.

But Jaehyun looked at you and waited a moment before he spoke carefully, “Did your boss say how long the cuts in paycheck would last?”

“I…” you began because you hadn’t actually asked. You had been too stressed about the right now to think too much about the future. “I didn’t ask.”

“Most companies are struggling in this climate. This might keep happening for the next few months,” Jaehyun explained, but before he could elaborate, you stubbornly added,

“I’ll look for another job till then so it won’t happen again. I’ll pay full rent on time from next month, I promise.”

“Yes, but if you get another job, you’ll have to pay more for Minki’s daycare, won’t you?” Jaehyun tried to reason. But the more he reasoned, the angrier it made you because of course you knew all of this, but didn’t want to hear it. Especially not from his mouth, and especially when it came to Minki’s expenses. Who the fuck was he to speculate about the money you did or didn’t spend on your son?

“You don’t have to worry about that. All I’m asking for is a little margin for this month,” you said and you tried to clip your curt tone, because annoyed as you were, you were asking him a favor.

Jaehyun thought about how he was going to make his next offer. He knew you were a woman of pride. He knew you weren’t good at accepting help or any sort of a freehand. So he thought of how to offer help in a way that would make it sound suitable for you. Where you wouldn’t feel burdened by goodwill. But the alcohol in his brain was making it so damn hard to think right.

“Y/N… you don’t have to pay the rent…” he began stupidly.

“I can, just like, two-thirds--” you repeated stubbornly but Jaehyun cut you off because you weren’t getting the point.

“No, I mean… you don’t have to pay me rent while we’re… while we’re under this contract,” he finally laid it out.

“Jaehyun, look… this is just an inconvenience this month. I don’t need like…” you looked away to steady yourself so you wouldn’t raise your voice. You knew he was only trying to help, but you didn’t need anyone’s pity or charity, “... I don’t need your help.”

Jaehyun sat up straight, but instead of taking offense, he tried to choose what he thought was the logical route. “Look, Y/N. I’m not trying to help you. I’m just saying that the both of us wanted some benefits from this marriage. This is my apartment. You living in it isn’t incurring any extra expense on me. Also, we don’t have anything in the contract about rent,” he reasoned.

“Jaehyun. I don’t want to be in your debt,” and this time, you couldn’t hold back the venom in your tone. That made Jaehyun sober up some. And his eyes turned colder, too.

“You won’t be in my debt. Our marriage has to be mutually beneficial, Y/N. You don’t have to pay the rent. But in return…”

“In return?”

“You’ll have to come with me to the investors dinner. They’ve been wanting to meet my wife,” he looked at you and the ice in his eyes matched yours. You didn’t want his kindness, so be it. He was going to play tit-for-tat. You asked for a favor and he would ask for a favor in return. No debts and no IOUs.

You looked away and considered it. It felt vile. It felt perverse. It felt like you were being asked to offer a service in exchange for a roof over your head. Like an escort, a woman for hire.

But you weren’t Jaehyun’s escort. For all intents and purposes, you were his wife. And from the onset of this union, you had agreed to accompany him anywhere he’d be required to bring his wife to save face. He had promised the same for you, though places you required a husband were far different (town halls and tax offices were definitely not the same as investor parties).

‘Think about your child, Y/N,’ your right mind pleaded at you, fighting with your pride. ‘Think about all the money you could save for him. For Minki,’ and right away, the ice in your stature began to melt. Why hold onto stupid pride when this was your reality? You were a single mother, you were struggling financially, and your husband was giving you a way out.

“Let me know when,” you said shortly and went straight to your room, leaving him behind.

That night as you laid in bed, watching Minki’s tiny silhouette in the dark, you cried hot tears into your pillow. You had never thought life would bring you here. You never thought that this is what you would have to do to survive. Why did you feel like you were about to sell your body to a rich man just so you wouldn’t have to spend the nights on the streets with your child? Why didn’t you feel like a respectable wife of a respectable man in a respectable situation?

Because he wasn’t your true husband and you weren’t his true wife and this wasn't a true circumstance. You had just signed some papers that had given you the title of someone’s wife. You had simply escaped the title of an escort based on a technicality. And that awful realization broke you that night.

Jaehyun had the good sense to not comment on how you looked that evening.

Even when you had stood at the door, waiting to leave, done up all pretty, he knew better than to say something. These days, he wasn’t sure what he’d say to offend you. So he spoke only when absolutely necessary. The fact that you looked beautiful wasn’t going to change that.

These days, he would try to be as invisible to you as possible, in his own home. You weren’t too fond of him as a companion, that much he had always known. What he didn’t expect was the relationship to sour with age, at least from your side. Then again, you had much more to protect than he did. The least he could do was stay out of your way, if his very presence brought you discomfort.

What he didn’t know was that in the past few days, you had done some repentance. Why were you so prideful, you had wondered. Was it because your pride had been hurt so many times that you were holding onto what was left of it with all you had? Your luck was awful, this arrangement was awful and the situation was awful; but one thing you had realized was that Jaehyun didn’t deserve to be at the receiving end of your wrath. He had never been the one to put you in tough situations. He had always been your way out. Perhaps that’s what hurt your pride the most.

You don’t really remember how you had arrived at this conclusion. Because in the past few days, your emotions had cycled between being increasingly annoyed at him to increasingly feeling embarrassed for lashing out at him that night. The fact that your hormones were raging out of control these days had nothing to do with it. But you had realized that Jaehyun was perhaps one of the few people offering you any type of kindness in this world; and you’d be an idiot to get on this man’s bad side.

So tonight, you tried extra hard to be nice to him. And by the time you were at the dinner, you didn’t have to try that hard. It was nice to have a night out, without work, and without Minki. Earlier in the day, Jaehyun had even given you the option to pick between a few babysitters. He had found them a couple of days ago and despite your stupid pride telling you otherwise, you had been a little impressed. And that feeling had swollen when he meekly told you,

“I, uh… I installed nanny cams around the house. If you give me your phone, I’ll be able to connect them to you so you’d be able to check in on Minki whenever.”

You had given him your phone and when your mind was inwardly appreciating the gesture, you pulled yourself together and asked your brain for a hard stop. ‘You have no reason to be impressed. We wouldn’t need a babysitter if it weren’t for his party,’ you told yourself. But the hard stop didn’t come and you ended up being moved, despite your better judgement.

And now you were left admitting that you indeed needed a night off. You don’t remember the last time you had dressed up or gone out without Minki in your arms. It was strange to sit and eat the food and actually taste it. Not even the judgmental gazes of the people around you fazed you that much. Because the questions they asked, you had already foreseen.

“So how did you guys meet?” you were inevitably asked. You and Jaehyun had revised this in the car several times on your way here.

“Oh, a friend introduced us,” you replied, and there was truth in what you had said. Johnny Suh had indeed introduced you, though you’re sure he had expected a more traditional outcome from the meeting--that you’d date and fall in love. This strange contract of convenience may not have been on his mind when he matched the two of you.

But you held onto this story whenever you got the question and for the most part, you got through it, even if your traitor eyes kept darting across the space in search of Jaehyun because you weren’t sure you were providing answers that were the right sort of correct. And when he did rejoin you by your side, you felt an odd sense of comfort. How ironic it was that in the privacy of your home, you lived like strangers. But out here in the open, you gravitated towards one another. Perhaps because your lies protected you when you harbored next to one another.

Be as it may, it wouldn’t take a mindreader to tell you what most people in this party thought of you: you were a gold-digger. You were the woman with a child that had bagged a pretty eligible bachelor. You weren’t of a notable background, you didn’t have that fancy a job; just a girl that had shot above her grade and gotten lucky when the shot hit bullseye.

For some reason, this assessment (though no one had been brave enough to voice it) irked you. Because your marriage to Jaehyun might have had several ulterior motives, but his gold had never been one of them. Ironically, it was the other way round--Jaehyun’s marriage to you was to help him secure his fortune. But of course, these people weren’t going to question the young heir. A young single mother without a penny to her name was the more likely suspect.

That was when you found yourself being impressed by Jaehyun for the second time today. Because he artfully switched the narrative anytime the questions got too intrusive, saying

“Honestly, I’m so lucky Y/N even gave me a chance,” or some iteration of this humble statement that made it seem like he had pursued you rather than the other way round as was on everyone’s mind. Not for a single moment did he allow anyone to question your integrity or your motive or your dignity. He wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly why each power hungry asshole in this room wanted to question you. But he utterly surprised you when he pressed a kiss to your cheek and said,

“I just feel so blessed. I can’t believe I have a little family of my own now.”

You knew it was for their benefit. You knew this was all part of the act. But perhaps you hadn’t been this close to a man in ages, because the gesture made your stomach do a flip and your skin burn.

‘Pull yourself together!’ you mentally berated yourself. But your body betrayed you, even as the two of you made the drive home. This time, you felt Jaehyun’s presence next you in an almost chemical sense. You felt the scent of him heavy in the car. You felt the heat of him as you stood behind him when he unlocked the apartment door and paid off the babysitter.

And you realized. He was a man. The person you lived with under the ruse of a marriage… he was a man. And you were a woman.

Truth be told, you hadn’t been with a man since Minki’s father. But you were a woman. And Jaehyun was a man. And your hormones had been raging.

What difference did it make? You were married, anyway. What difference would it make if you just…

If you just what? What would you even do? What would you even say? You had spent most of your marriage pretending he didn’t exist. And this had amplified in the past week after you’d lashed out on him. So, how on earth were you going to bring this up?

Were you honestly considering sleeping with the man you’d near-insulted in his own home? You were right. You were horny out of your right mind. You just needed to take a cold shower and call it a night.

“I’ve been thinking…” Jaehyun’s deep voice reverberated in the air between the two of you and broke through your lewd thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Umm… the thing is… I’ve been going through our contract…” you notice Jaehyun shuffling his feet a little.

“Oh?”

“Yeah… just for, like… just to review some things, and… I was just like… looking at some cases and… I just think, legally speaking, that our contract--our… our marriage has some loopholes. I just mean that there could be a time where someone might… although I don’t know how they would, but someone could… you know, there's always people looking in. And like, a contract is only as strong as the details, and someone could question… although, I don’t really know how, but I think we should do something about it,” by the time Jaehyun finished, his ears were burnt a bright red, like he was embarrassed at how poorly he had communicated what he wanted to say. Nothing he said made sense.

But you weren’t an idiot. You knew exactly what he was saying. Your body knew what he was saying. The heat in your core knew what he was saying. Perhaps your pride is the one that spoke, because it wasn’t prepared for the consequences of being wrong.

“I’m not following…” you played tactfully dumb.

“I just mean… our marriage is voidable, because… because well… it… we’ve got to,” Jaehyun looked away, the rest of his face burning with his ears, “Nevermind. We can discuss this in the morning.”

But you didn’t want to wait for the clarity that morning would bring. You didn’t want to wake up and realize how awful an idea this was. You didn’t want the endorphin rush the night out together had brought in to disappear and put you in your right mind. You were a woman and he was a man. And you both wanted sex. So just as he turned away, you grabbed his hand.

“Do you have a condom?”

“Yes, in my medicine cabinet,” Jaehyun replied, too quickly, too eagerly. You almost smiled at his reaction, but decided to nod your head instead.

“I’ll see you in twenty minutes?”

“Yes… yes, please… take your time,” Jaehyun answered and respectfully waited till you went in and closed the door to your room.

Your heart was racing. You allowed yourself to lose your composure for a few moments just to pull yourself together again. You held a hand to your heart to help you breathe. This was a bad idea. This was a very bad idea. But there would never be a better time, or a better opportunity. You didn’t have work in the morning. Your son was fast asleep. Your chores were complete. Your bills were paid.

But most of all, you were a woman in need and he was a willing man. He was a safe man, a man whom--despite your strange arrangement--you could trust. He was a decent enough person, he had never disrespected you, and the two of you were in the safety of your own home. In the grand scheme of things, this was all that was required of a prospective sexual partner. It’s not like you could curb your hunger in other ways. You hadn’t dated in three years. You weren’t brave enough for one night stands with strangers. This was as safe a risk as you could take.

Before you knew it, your body had made up your mind because you were headed to the bathroom. You needed to wash up. Thank God you had just shaved this morning. You ran a washcloth under your arms and between your legs and nearly burnt your face off half to death when you opened your underwear drawer and realized that Jeong Jaehyun was going to see you in one of them. You picked a relatively safe one. Not that you had sexy lingerie anyway. But you put it on with your face still burning hot and a nightie over it and a dressing gown over that.

‘This is happening,’ you said to yourself as you swiped a fresh coat of tint over your lips. By the time you went out and knocked on his door, your heart had calmed some. This was a need, just like food or water or air. You were a woman, and you just had a need. There was nothing wrong with having a need.

Jaehyun opened the door then with an awkward “Hi,” and let you into his room. He closed the door.

You had only seen his room once or twice, and you could tell that in the time you were washing up, he was cleaning up. He had lit a single scented candle (probably the only one he owned) and laid out a bottle of something with a couple of shot glasses.

“I thought… just in case we needed some courage,” he said, carefully pouring the drinks out. He held the glass out for you and you gladly accepted it, downing whatever it was in one go. And it did the trick because you cut off Jaehyun in the middle of his sentence and captured his lips with yours. You needed less talking and more action, because you were convinced all the talking was going to make you change your mind.

And Jaehyun put his arms around your shoulders because he’d just been meaning to ask you how you wanted to go about this. Whether he could even kiss you, or whether it was off limits. He doesn’t know why that had occurred to him. But nothing about the two of you was traditional. You were married, but you weren’t a couple. You lived together, but separately. You were in one another’s lives, but you were not. So, who was to say if you wanted the sex, but not the kissing?

But here you were, and you had taken the lead. It had always been your choice. It was always going to be your choice. Jaehyun knew you were always going to set the boundaries in this relationship. And you were going to set the pace tonight.

And set it you did. You kissed him while the alcohol ran in your veins and added fuel to your desire. You smelt the aftershave on him. You inhaled the cologne on his neck. Then you stepped away and turned your back to him. For a moment, he wondered if you had thought better of it and were leaving. Then he saw you pull at the tie at your nightgown and flip the lights off and turn back to him, just in time for Jaehyun to catch sight of the satin against your delicate skin.

You wondered if you needed another shot, but this was okay. He was letting you set the pace. You felt in control of the situation. This you could manage. You didn’t need the alcohol. So, you pulled him in by the back of his neck and kissed him again. You stood on your tiptoes and kissed him till you believed, truly believed that this was happening.

“You have the condom?” you breathed out and Jaehyun stuttered a bit, taken aback that it had come to this so quick. He felt something he had experienced as a child when he had to speak into a microphone in front of the entire school. It was stage fright. It was performance anxiety. Because he wasn’t sure if he could perform his best tonight--it had been far too long since he had done this sort of thing.

“Uh, yeah, it’s right there…” he pointed to the nightstand next to the drinks.

“Okay… do you need some help?” you looked down at his crotch almost inconsiderately and he felt his ears burn.

“Uh, just… give me a moment…” he muttered, and now it was his turn to turn his back to you. He unzipped himself quickly and tried to pump his semi to full hardness. He tried to hold back the grunts, but he felt your presence behind him. You had found the lube on the nightstand and had slicked your palm with it.

“Here, let me…” you said and took him in your hand and Jaehyun didn’t have much time to react. He closed his eyes and his head fell back of its own accord and he bit his bottom lip just to suppress the keen he knew he’d let out.

Fuck, he didn't remember the last time a girl had touched him this way. This was much, much sweeter than his own left hand that had been his only companion for way too long.

“Here, sit down,” you offered and he nodded. You both sat at the edge of the bed; your face was focused as you worked on him, pumping him with purpose. Pumping him for a function. And then, what you did next took him utterly by surprise and he didn’t have time to bite back the trembling moan that escaped him. Because you had taken him in your mouth at the tip while your hand pumped the rest of him.

You hadn’t meant to blow him. You had decided you wouldn’t do that when you had come in. But he looked like he needed help. Maybe he needed more time to ward off the nerves and get hard enough, but the selfish part of you wanted to keep things rolling. Perhaps you wanted to keep things as functionally motivated as possible. Like this union. Like what had brought you to his bed in the first place. A primal need, and a voidable contract.

For what it’s worth, he looked like he was enjoying himself. Because he wasn’t stopping you, and he was moaning out. What man wouldn’t enjoy being sucked? You were doing him a favor.

When he looked and felt hard enough, you stood up to rid yourself of the gown, and he sat up to regain his breath. He held his cock at the base for some respite and pressed his lips together to suppress the groan that would escape at seeing your lipstick stain around his leaking tip. How did you want to do this, he wanted to ask, but his mind was eased because the next thing you said was,

“Can I be on top? I just think it might be easier.”

“Yes… yes, of course. Um… do you mind if I… um, scoot up a bit?” Jaehyun wasn’t sure what he’d do with himself if you rode him just like that, seated at the edge of the bed. He wasn’t sure he’d last. He needed to sit back and relax himself.

“Yeah, good idea,” you muttered and climbed in his bed with him.

This was it. The point of no return. There was no going back from here. Maybe you should’ve taken that shot. But now Jaehyun was sitting back against the headboard and his cock was laying heavy against his belly, staining his shirt in precum, and you’re not sure you could resist. So you joined him and lifted his shirt over his head.

He was more built than you realized, and you let your mind focus on that to chase away the nerves. He was a man. He wasn’t just your flatmate or contractual husband. Right now, he was a man with an aching cock and a chiseled chest. You’d never known a man to willingly turn down sex. You weren’t being selfish in your need. You could tell he needed this, too, gentlemanly as he was being.

You handed him the foil and he took it, as if remembering this was something that had to be done. Or had he expected you to cover him? You weren’t sure. But you needed him distracted so you could rid yourself of the underwear under your nightie. And when all was set, you straddled his lap. You held his length. You gripped at the sheet. You gasped. And you tried.

Jaehyun, who had his eyes shut in preparation, heard the effort in your gasps.

“Do you need help?” he offered, sitting up and almost reaching with his fingers to your core but you stopped him.

“No, it’s just… it’s been a while. Just let me…” you reached a hand under your nightie and rubbed yourself some, careful not to moan too much. Not to let yourself go too much.

“I can…” Jaehyun reached again, wondering if his touch would work on you like yours had worked on him. But you weren't as generous as he had been.

“No, I got this. Just hold on,” you grabbed his length and rubbed his tip along your slit, as if to appease him, as if to show him that you were taking his help well enough. Jaehyun held himself at the base with one hand and placed his other hand respectfully at your waist, to offer any sort of help he was allowed. Then he finally felt your warmth on him as you began to open up to him.

You couldn’t help it. You brought your hands to his shoulders and he brought his hands to the curve of your hips. You couldn’t hold back the first few gasps, but neither could he. Here you were, two people who hadn’t known intimacy in much too long. Two people that were married to one another, no less. Rusty and struggling, but finally making it.

Jaehyun’s eyes squeezed shut again and he tried his best not to move. To let you set the pace. But you were so fucking tight. Your warmth was making him feel things his hand could not. How amazing it was, being this close to an actual woman. He didn’t realize when his fingers started digging into the flesh of your hips or when you started moving on him faster.

You were gasping shorter, and Jaehyun opened his eyes, just to take it in. Your eyes were closed, your lips parted. You were moving your hips on him so sensually that for a moment, Jaehyun was pretty sure he was going to come right there and then. How amazing it was to see you in this way. It was strange; Jaehyun felt like a peeping Tom, though he was just as part of the act as you were. Then why did looking at you on top of him feel so perverse?

You felt good. It was nice to feel like a woman. To acknowledge you had a sexual appetite. And to have the hunger be quenched in a primal way. To do it in a safe space, with a safe man, with no consequences. It wasn’t a crime to sleep with your husband. What was marriage if not sex and a contract? This was fine.

“I’m just gonna…” you slowed your pace a bit just to rub your fingers on your clit. You needed to get off because you could feel Jaehyun coming to the brink.

“Do you want me to…” Jaehyun asked, and as if on instinct, you almost turned him down once again. But you needed more. You needed the touch of a man just as much you needed his cock, no matter how much you were denying it. You nodded so you wouldn’t have to admit it in words and Jaehyun brought his thumb to your nub and rubbed.

That did it.

You trembled and held his shoulders in your grip and released yourself. You felt the pleasure coursing through your belly, and if you smiled through the orgasm, you didn’t stop yourself. It felt nice, to finally feel euphoria in this way.

It didn’t help Jaehyun that he felt your wetness coating him.

“I’m gonna come,” he warned so you’d get off of him and he could pump himself in his hand and empty himself into the wrapper. You watched his seed cloud the thin skin of the condom and you felt another curious need in your belly. But you looked away and let him finish.

The two of you sat there for a few moments, just to thin out the dense haze of sex in your beings.

‘So that happened,’ you thought to yourself. You turned to sit at the edge of the bed and slipped your underwear back on and heard Jaehyun zip himself back up.

What now, you wondered. Do you cuddle? Do you kiss goodbye? Do you thank one another? None of it made sense.

“If you want to--” he began.

“I should--” you harmonized.

Then you got up.

“I should shower and go to bed,” you spoke.

“Alright,” Jaehyun said gently, then got out of bed, almost as if to see you out. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said, though he didn’t know what he meant by that. It felt wrong to just let you go like that, so unceremoniously. You had just had sex for the first time. Surely, there was something he could do to put you at ease?

“Good night,” was all you said as you took your leave. And perhaps the only thing he could do to put you at ease in this moment was to leave you alone.

It’s not that simple. It is never that simple.

Perhaps it’s why the two of you started consummating your marriage more often than you realized. It couldn’t possibly have been as simple as a one-off.

After that night, the two of you had been far too disappointed in how you had performed. You tried not to be too irrationally upset at yourself. Neither of you had been intimate with another person in far too long… being as rusty as you were would almost be expected. So, perhaps you both wanted a chance at redemption, and thus you found one another again.

As it turned out, practice did indeed make perfect. Because your next few times were much less awkward than that painstaking first time. The next few times started to feel more natural as your bodies started to learn more about one another and you discovered what the other liked and disliked. You have no idea how you had come to this place in your dynamic, where you were finding yourself in his bed over and over again. But who were you kidding? You were usually the one to instigate this conversation each time. Waiting for him to return home from work and then following him to his bed. Texting him in the middle of the night to ask if he was still awake and then knocking on his door when he would say that he was.

Now, Jaehyun wasn’t just providing you a roof over your head, or the protection that came from this marriage. He also provided sex when you had the need. Jaehyun had never turned down any request you had made before. And he was hard pressed not to turn down any request you made of him now, though the nature of your requests was becoming consequentially more unspeakable. Still, he never denied you and invited you to his bed every time you asked till the most carnal parts of you were satisfied.

One night, you had felt so spent that you collapsed on his chest and didn’t realize that you had knocked right off till the sound of Minki’s crying in the next room woke you up. You had never spent the night in his bed before that, and you were careful not to since then. But it happened on yet another night and you were woken up in exactly the same manner, only this time, Jaehyun whispered,

“I’ll check on him. You keep sleeping,” and shot up. You’d been so goddamn tired that night, that you allowed yourself to make this mistake, at least for one night. You allowed Jaehyun to check on your son while you got uninterrupted sleep, and uninterrupted sleep is often the greatest favor one can offer a young mother.

And that was the night Jaehyun realized that you were starting to trust him just a little more. Because you had never let him help out with your son before. As he picked Minki up and the boy easily laid his head on his shoulder, Jaehyun felt the sort of warmth he had always craved his entire life. Was this what it felt like to be a father? To be a husband? He wasn’t sure, but he never wanted to let this feeling go.

He softly paced and rubbed the little boy’s back till he went back to sleep. For the first time in his entire life, Jaehyun finally felt like he had a family. He tucked Minki in and went back to lay next to your sleeping form. He moved a strand of hair away from your face, just so he could look at you. You were his family. You and Minki. Jaehyun vowed to protect the both of you in heart, not just in contract.

But that’s what it was, after all. A contract marriage. Because a few days later, you came up to him with a request he hadn’t expected.

“Could I have the number of the babysitter you called that day?” you asked.

“Sure, I’ll text it to you. Why do you need a babysitter?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure if he was out of line in asking the question.

“Um, I… I’m going out for a drink tonight,” you replied.

“On your own?” Jaehyun asked out of curiosity. It was the most intrusive conversation he had had with you, ever.

“No, with Doyoung from work.”

Jaehyun didn’t ask any further questions after that.

He had been right. It was always going to be your choice. You may live together. You may be married by law. You might have sex from time to time. But in your equation, it was still not enough to make you a couple. Because you still hadn’t decided if you were a couple let alone made that request of him. And Jaehyun had never turned down any request you had ever made.

It wasn’t exactly the first time you and Doyoung had grabbed a drink after work. It was just the first time you had done so on a weekend, where it was just the two of you. He had asked, and you had no idea why you had said yes. Perhaps because you were an awful person. Because you knew saying yes would lead him on, but you did so anyway just so you could have a break from your life.

You were developing a wonderful knack for using the people around you. It had started with Jaehyun and when you experienced how good it felt, it escalated to everyone around you. You saw what men wanted from you and you began to weaponize your sexuality. You used Jaheyun’s loneliness against him to get what you wanted--sex or anything else. And you used Doyoung’s crush on you against him to give yourself a few hours of respite.

In a fucked up way, you had justified your use of these men. Because you were just giving them what they really wanted, and they were pretty selfish in those needs, too. Doyoung pretended to be your friend, but he clearly had deeper expectations despite knowing your situation. He couldn’t possibly be nice to you out of the kindness of his heart. No man offered kindness to a woman without wanting something in return. Saying yes to his date was just going to bring you a welcome change of pace. And in return, he’d also get what he wanted.

He had taken you to a nicer bar, not your usual place, just so the two of you could feel you were on an actual date, not just a hangout after work. You actually enjoyed yourself some. Doyoung was easy on the eyes and had a pleasant enough personality, even if he tried too hard sometimes. You supposed you had been using him even before saying yes to this date. He was your only confidant, the only person you’d talk to about your situation, even though you could tell he had a crush on you. But you were lonely and he heard you, begrudgingly or otherwise. You’d tell him most facts about your arrangement, though you hadn’t told him that you’d started sleeping with your contract husband. That was a fact you were only going to admit to yourself.

When you left the bar and started walking down the street together, you felt Doyoung reach for your hand. And you gave it to him. When he asked if you wanted to go to his apartment for some tea, you said yes. You had no idea why you were being so reckless.

But here you were. Leaning on the edge of the kitchen counter of your coworker, in an apartment where he lived alone. The risk of the unknown was fueling your veins with adrenaline and suddenly, you wanted to play with fire. You should’ve seen it coming when he leaned in to kiss you. You had almost taken him by the hand and led him to this moment. When his lips touched yours, you even kissed him back. You were drunk in the power you had over this man.

‘Stop it. Stop it right now!’ your mind screamed at you. But your body had other ideas. Your body allowed Doyoung to grab your wrists on the kitchen counter and lean over you and kiss you. Your body accepted as his hands started travelling up the dip of your waist. Your body even let out an inviting exhale as his lips moved down to the side of your neck. Wouldn’t it be nice? To be bent right over this counter and be taken by this man? He liked you well enough. He wanted you. He had maybe wanted you all this time. You’d make him a happy man and you’d satisfy your hungry body. He might still like you at the end of it.

Or he might think you’re an easy woman who lives with a contractual husband and spreads her legs for any man on the first date.

It was your pride that pushed against his chest and pulled him off.

“Doyoung…” you looked away.

“Sorry…” he whispered, inhaling then pursing his lips together. Like he wanted to say something else, but was trying real hard to hold himself back. You searched his face, because for what it’s worth, you didn’t want him to be upset with you. You didn’t want to lose your only confidant. So you offered,

“I’m married…” but it was maybe the wrong thing to say because Doyoung basically exploded at you.

“You don’t even love him! It’s not a real marriage!” he stepped away from you and ran his fingers through his hair in agitation.

“Doyoung…” you reached for his arm. He didn’t flinch away, which could’ve been a good sign. But when he spoke, his voice seemed strained. Like he was holding back tears.

“I could make you happy,” he said.

Fuck.

You finally realized that you had gone too far in your stupid game. As if in a sudden moment of clarity, you realized that he was an actual human being. And you’d been toying with his feelings. You hadn’t known how deep his feelings went, but toy with them you had.

You looked at him regretfully. “No one can make me happy, Doyoung.”

“You know I’d try,” he said and this time he moved away from your touch and put some space between the two of you. “I could try keeping you happy… and Minki…” he spoke with the face of a brokenhearted man. Your heart clenched. It was nice to know you still had a heart after all you’d been doing.

“You deserve so much more,” you shook your head. It made him scoff.

“I don’t know what I deserve,” he whispered, then stormed past you and into his room. He slammed the door shut.

You returned home that night, feeling like shit. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you needed comforting. So, after you had put Minki to bed, you sent Jaehyun the inevitable text.

‘Are you awake?’ you texted, and you waited.

‘No,’ he replied.

You stared at the message.

‘No,’ it read. A simple word. He had refused you. In one simple word, he turned you down. How strange this word felt, how curt, how novel. Jaehyun had never told you no.

But Jaehyun was another man whose heart you were hell bent on breaking. Guess he was smarter in how he protected it.

What was it that people said about the taste of your own medicine? It couldn’t possibly be sweet. Because you experienced the bitterness of it in the next few days to come. Your days became lonely but your nights became lonelier.

If you were being honest, you felt the bitterness most from Doyoung. Perhaps because you had been more cruel to him than you’d been to Jaehyun. You realized now that the man genuinely liked you by how badly his pride had been hurt. He spent the next few days staying out of your way. He didn’t stop by your desk with a morning coffee for you. He didn’t ask if you wanted to have lunch together. He didn’t come along to any after-work gatherings if you were in them. He turned his cheek if you ever crossed paths. He pretended you weren’t there to the point where it became obvious to your other coworkers that the two of you had a falling out. Of course, in this twisted world, there was only one reason for a man and a woman to have a falling out, or at least that's what the rumors around you started to say. You would’ve been annoyed had the rumors been wrong. But they were all true. Doyoung did nothing to stop them. He wasn’t obligated to anymore. He used to be the one person who would always come to your defense if you ever became the victim of gossip or intrusive questions. But you had freed him of that obligation. He wasn’t your friend or your confidant anymore. Your arrogance had made sure of it.

You almost wanted Jaehyun to dose you with venom of the same potency that Doyoung was giving you. But you weren’t so lucky. Because Jaehyun’s idea of giving you the cold shoulder was a little more mature. All he really did was restore your relationship back to how it used to be before you began warming his bed. As if all those nights spent in heat beneath his sheets hadn’t even happened. Like you had never bared your bodies to one another, like you were back to what you were supposed to be. And what you were supposed to be was two people living under the same roof, practically as strangers because of whatever fucked up contract that was going to mutually benefit the both of you. That’s what you had wanted, wasn’t it?

Despite your better judgement and your ever present pride, you had in fact asked him for sex a second time since he had refused you. And you had been turned down yet again. How strange it was, losing that power over him. Over both of them. What illogical power trip had you been on in the first place that made you treat these men like the dirt on your shoe? How did that power even come to you? Did it come with the security of a roof over your head? Did that come from knowing that you’d finally given your son a better life? Did it come from you finally having the luxury to think beyond the primal need of survival? Was this who you were when you weren’t destitute and struggling?

Funny thing was, your libido didn’t even bother you since the second time you got turned down. How peculiar it was that just a few days ago, you had considered getting sex from two different men in the same night. It was a stranger discovery knowing that perhaps you felt this way because… you didn’t want sex from any other man. Because Jaehyun had never thrown any of your weaknesses in your face. Despite refusing you, he let you keep your dignity. You weren’t sure many other men would offer you that much slack.

It was in the way your heart did a somersault when he knocked on your door one evening. You all but jumped to answer, but didn’t know what to say when you saw his face, this up close after a long while.

“I’m sorry… did I interrupt something?” he asked, as politely as ever.

“Oh, no, we were just playing with crayons,” you looked over your shoulder to see Minki scribbling away.

“Oh, okay. Um, the thing is, I wanted to ask you something but I didn’t want to do it over text. It was kind of important,” he began and he spoke with purpose.

“Everything okay?” you asked, the awkwardness you felt being chased away by concern.

“Yes, actually. So, my father’s Will Signing is next week,” he began.

Oh.

“My entire family will be there. Um… you have to come with me,” he said the last bit with some discomfort, perhaps because the way he put it made it seem like you didn’t have a choice. You didn’t, not in this case.

“Of course…” you said in maybe the softest tone you had ever taken with him.

“Great. I’ll send you the details,” he said and nodded as a sign off. But just before he turned, something came over you and you took his hand.

“Jaehyun…”

“Hmm?” he didn’t look at you.

“Are you… okay?” you asked, tipping your head to the side, just so you could see his face. This was a big moment, one he had been preparing for for as long as you had known him. How did he feel?

He inhaled for a brief moment before he turned his head to look at you. “Yes,” he nodded with politeness. And then he disappeared into his room.

A week later, you sat beside him in the presence of his family and his lawyers and his witnesses and God and saw as his wealthy father signed his will and declared Jaehyun as the inheritor of his business after him and the new CEO of his company. You stood by him as people thumped him on the back and congratulated him (for whatever reason). You saw as people smiled at him with daggers in their eyes. You bowed politely when his father told you that you’d made an honest man out of him and you smiled and nodded when his mother spoke of the responsibilities that came with being the “first lady” of the Jeong Group of Companies.

It was a bizarre evening, and when the drink and food started rolling out, you weren’t sure this was something to celebrate. Everyone in here was a vulture that wanted a piece of whatever they could scavenge after this man died, and they did so whilst eating and drinking away in luxury. Your husband, so to speak, had now been placed at the top of the food chain, with the first call on the body and the biggest chunk of the meat. You supposed you should be happy.

But as you drove back home with him that night, you stared out the window with an uneasiness in the pit of your stomach that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you tried. These feelings were familiar because they used to be your constant companions before you met Jaehyun. You felt the uncertainty about what the next day would bring. You felt the guilt of being a lacking mother to your son. You felt the shivering anxiety of an undetermined outcome.

Because Jeong Jaehyun was now legally the inheritor of the Jeong Group of Companies. He had received what he had hoped he would get out of this marriage. He had no reason to continue on with the contract anymore. And that knowledge filled you with dread deep in your bones.

Minki had always been a good boy. By any definition of the phrase, you had lucked out. This boy ate well, played well, slept well and lived well. He very seldom threw tantrums you couldn’t handle. He was well-mannered with the people around him. He never went wandering about the apartment without you, and he followed the boundaries you had set for him.

But today was an unusual day, for more reasons than you could handle. Today, Minki had been crying and screaming his lungs out, and you had no idea what to do. You held him in your arms and paced around and rubbed his back, but nothing you’d do or say would make anything okay. Someone had once told you that toddlers tend to absorb the emotions of their caregiver. And you knew today that it was right. He absorbed your emotions, because he couldn’t possibly have known what had hit you this morning. How could he know? All he could do was scream and cry at the uneasiness his instincts were inflicting on him.

Your son had never had too many meltdowns that you could remember. And when he did have one, you had always known how to handle it. Yet, despite knowing exactly what was happening, despite knowing that to calm him, you needed to breathe, you found yourself in a vicious cycle. The more he cried, the more agitated you became; the more on edge you were, the louder he cried.

You knew how to calm your son. You knew that for sure. But what could you do? How could you tell a toddler to go easy on you because of what was impending on you?

Your brain was a tangled mess. How could you calm him when there was a storm building in your own chest? How could you dial your energy down when every bit of your body was on edge? You just wanted to give up and cry. You were holding on by a thread.

You needed someone. You were desperate. You needed someone who could be there for you without expecting someone in return--a friend, a confidant. You even messaged Doyoung, hoping he’d put aside his broken heart and just listen to you. You needed someone to listen to you. Someone. Anyone. But you had no one, and your son was crying and you felt like your mind would implode. One final snap and you were going to lose your sanity.

It didn’t help that Jaehyun peaked his head out the door to see what was going out. He found you pacing in the living room, then slumping on the sofa as the little boy cried bloody murder on your shoulder. You knew it was an unusual sight for him. It’s perhaps why he stepped out. He sat next to you, a respectful distance away.

“Is everything alright?” he asked gently.

“He won’t stop crying,” you said, and your voice was thick with the agitation you felt, like you could cry tears of frustration of your own any moment now.

“Could I try calming him?” he kept his voice gentle and even.

“You could,” you said, trying to breathe evenly, lest you crumble mid-sentence.

Jaehyun reached in to take Minki off of you, which made the boy scream louder as he gripped onto your shirt, not wanting to let go. But Jaehyun was gentle yet firm. He managed to pry him off of you. He sat him on his lap whilst he kicked and pushed against him. But Jaehyun held him around the waist. Kind, but strong.

“What’s wrong, Minki?” Jaehyun asked whilst you tried hard to keep yourself together.

“Nooooo!” the boy screamed back on the top of his lungs.

“Minki, you have to tell your Mommy what’s wrong,” Jaehyun reasoned, but he got the same high pitched answer in return. You were worried he was going to hurt his vocal chords.

“How can Mommy help you if you don’t tell her what’s wrong?” Jaehyun looked him in the eye whilst he gently kept him restrained in his arms. And finally, Minki screamed back a reply, a different reply, something other than ‘no.’

“What is it? Can you tell me softly so I can understand?” Jaehyun's tone was authoritative but still kind. Minki’s screams were fading to sobs as he realized this switch in the power dynamic. Still, he held onto his stubborn act for a while longer and screamed the reply.

“Minki, Mommy and I can’t understand you. You have to tell us in words,” Jaehyun reasoned.

“Outside! Wanna go outside!” Minki replied in sobs instead of screams.

“Very good, Minki. Well done, you’ve told us in words. Where do you wanna go outside? Hmm?” Jaehyun continued.

“Outside!” he yelled and Jaehyun shook his head.

“You have to tell us in words, Minki. Do you wanna go to the store and buy some snacks?”

“No!” Minki whined.

“Then what, Minki? Do you wanna go to the park?”

“Y--no! I wanna play with kitty!” he finally sobbed.

“You wanna play with kitty? Very good, Minki. Thank you for telling us. You’ve done such a good job,” Jaehyun took the boy in his arms and hugged him till he calmed. He stood and you stood up with them.

“Does he play with a cat?” Jaehyun asked you.

“There was once a cat in the park. He played with it,” you told him though your breaths were coming shorter. You didn’t want to crumble but you were right on the brink.

“Do you want me to take him to the park for a little bit?” Jaehyun asked you softly and you nodded vigorously.

“Okay. Don’t worry, please. We’ll be fine,” he nodded, attempting to calm you a little as well, as if he could see that you were hanging by a thread. But then, he turned away much too soon, carrying the now sniffling boy and leaving you behind. Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed at his arm.

“Minki’s dad is in town,” you finally blurted out the words that had been choking you, the reason your breaths were being stolen from your lungs and your chest was being constricted. You wanted someone to know that a dark cloud was taking over your life. A shadow from your past, a monster lurking in the dark. Your exhales came out ragged, like you were holding too much in, but couldn’t let it all out. There was no one to let it out to. You saw Jaehyun’s eyes widen for a moment. But he didn’t say anything. So you continued, “He wants me to meet with him.”

Jaehyun nodded, too understanding, too level-headed. “You should meet him. Does he want to meet Minki, too?”

You looked away, and took a deep breath in. It was getting harder to hold it in. “No. Just me.”

Jaehyun nodded again, “You can meet him. I’ll take care of Minki till then.” Then he turned and started readying Minki to go out the same way he had seen you do several times.

You wanted to say so much more to him but couldn’t find your words. You wanted Jaehyun to hold you and get the words out of you the same way he had gotten them out of Minki. You wanted him to grab you to pull you together and ask you what it was that was making you feel this way. You wanted to scream and cry and kick like your son and have him calm you down, the same way he calmed him.

But you were an adult. And he wasn’t your husband, even if you had signed some papers. You’d made sure he would never come close enough to hold you and comfort you with how you treated him. And now? Now, he wasn’t even obligated to be your husband anymore… he had gotten what he wanted from this marriage. So you watched as he walked out with your son, carrying him with the love and patience the little boy had always deserved but never received from his own father.

You just wanted to give up.

You’re pretty sure you were having an out of body experience. You’d never had an out of body experience before, and you weren’t sure what it was really meant to feel like. You know that at the very least, you were in a dreamlike state. You felt too present, but like you were floating in space at the same time. Your legs felt heavy, but your head felt light. You heard the sounds around you too clearly, every whisper, every step, every breath ringing in your ears. But those sounds didn’t seem like they were coming from your reality around you, but from deep within your being. You heard them too clearly. Perhaps it helped in numbing the sight and sound that was closest to you.

You saw the man in front of you; the man who through a terrible twist of fate was Minki’s father. And you stared down at the cheque this man had placed in front of you, encased in a beautiful envelope. Like the elegance of the envelope was going to mask the horridness of the contents within. You may have been in a dreamlike state. But everything about what was happening was a nightmare.

You stared down at the strip of paper for too long, the storm inside building, threatening to reach its climax. You tried to keep it in.

“Take it back,” you whispered. You didn’t want to speak up. You weren’t sure what your voice would do if you spoke up.

“Y/N. I want you to think about this logically,” the man said. Too level-headed. Too indifferent. The men around you seemed to talk logic with you quite a lot. Like you were the hysterical one and they were always the sensible, centered ones that had to pacify you.

“Logically?” you repeated the offensive word, finally peeling your eyes off the cheque to look him in the eye.

“This is good money. Think of what you can do for your son with all this money,” he nodded.

“He’s your son, too!” you hissed and the tears that didn’t fall threatened to choke you. You stopped yourself and looked around and shifted in your seat. You didn’t want this to be a scene. You needed to keep yourself together.

“Y/N. I know you’re not thinking straight right now. You’re being too emotional. If you want to take a couple of days to think about it, I think you’ll see that I’m right,” he spoke to you like a professor would speak to a student. Like you were an imbecile and he was the All-Knowing. You were bursting at the seams, and he was too composed. Emotionlessly, indifferently, dispassionately composed.

“You disappeared from our lives for two years and now you want to buy my silence!” you hissed yet again, and tears of anger you were holding back brimmed to your eyes. You didn’t let them escape.

But you finally saw the breach in his composure as he looked around, making sure no one was listening in. Making sure you weren’t creating a scene and tarnishing his reputation. As if your reaction was uncalled for, too extreme, too irrational, too emotional. As if he didn’t ask of you what he did. That he would offer you this money. And in exchange?

In exchange, you and Minki would never contact him ever again. Because he had found an influential woman to marry. Because he didn’t want anything getting in the way of this opportunity. Because if she were to find out that he had a secret son, she could end his career for vengeance. He would offer you this money and neither you nor Minki could claim any connection to him ever again. He could marry in peace and get a clean slate, leaving his old life behind. Leaving his son behind.

“Y/N…” he said, trying to void his voice of the irritation he felt towards you, “You have a new life. I’m asking for mine.”

“You’re asking to abandon Minki forever with your blood money!” you swept the cheque back towards him.

“I’m not having any more arguments about this,” he turned his cheek and stood up. As if to add insult to injury, he placed more money on the table, presumably to pay the bill. You looked up at him in utter disbelief. How easily he was dismissing himself. Dismissing you. Just getting up to leave like he hadn’t just presented you with a life-altering ultimatum. “Think about it with a rational mind. Or at least think about your son,” he spoke down at you.

But that did it.

“How dare you,” you whispered at him, “How DARE you. You absolute swine of a man…” you’re pretty sure your chair had toppled over as you stood. You didn’t care. Not anymore.

“How dare you ask me to think about my son when you’re the one selling him off with your blood money! How dare you talk to me like that after you left him for the dead for two fucking years. You absolute fucking piece of shit, how dare you!” you realized that your whispers had turned to shrieks, that you were gripping at this man’s collar, that you had finally created the scene the both of you had been avoiding all this time. “How can you do this to him? He’s only a child!” you pulled at him. “He’s your son!” you shrieked at him, your grip on his shirt tight. You could feel him prying you off, but you held onto him with all your might. “He’s your son, you dickless piece of shit, he’s your son!” you didn’t let go, not even for a moment. If you let go, he was going to run and hide. He was going to leave into his new life and Minki would become only a skeleton in his closet. Minki would grow up with the knowledge that his father abandoned him. That he was worth only the amount on this cheque, whilst the new family he was going to start was worth much more. That he was paid off to be kept a secret for the rest of his life. That you allowed it to happen and did nothing to stop it. You were going to stop it. You had to.

“He’s your son!” you gripped at him and you were only half aware that people around you had started to pull him away from you. You didn’t let him go. How could you let him get away? You’re weren’t going to let him get away with doing this to your son. You were going to fight for him.

But how much power could you muster against the strength of many? What force did you have in your arms that could fight off the pull of the onlookers as they pried the man away from you? What sort of power did you have? None. You didn’t have the power in your arms you thought you had. You didn’t have the power in your fortitude you thought you had. You didn't even have the power in your words you thought you had. You had power over nothing and no one.

So, he got away. Leaving behind only a torn fabric of his shirt in your fist because you held on till the last moment before you were kicked out of the restaurant. You ran after him all the way to his car. Kicking and screaming. But he got in. He drove away. And he got away. And you couldn’t do anything about it--not a single thing.

You could never do much, anyway. You had let him get away this time, just as you had let him get away the last time. You had let yourself and your son get abandoned then, and you let him abandon the two of you now. How easily he slipped from your grip yet again. You couldn’t even stop him. You couldn’t keep him, not even for your son’s sake. Your son needed to know he had a father in this world. But he had been stripped of that right because you couldn’t fight for him. You had no strength. You had no power.

Come to think of it, you never had any strength or any power all your life. And life was a word you used rather liberally. Truth is, you didn’t really know how to live… you only knew how to survive. So how could you have fought for Minki? You couldn’t even fight for yourself. You hadn’t really done much in your lifetime but made bad decisions, one after the other. And now you were left to face the consequences of every single bad decision you’d ever made.

How did you think you could do this all on your own? How did you think you could go through all the trials and trepidations of your life with no one to rely on? Who did you think you were? You weren’t born into money, you didn’t go to a fancy college, you had absolutely nothing to back you up but your constant hustle and your ever inflated pride. What good was that pride, anyway? It had never done you an ounce of good. And now, you could feel it slipping from your fingers, too. Because the whole world had seen you gripping and begging at the man who didn’t want you or your son. The whole world had seen as you cried and ran after him on foot, chasing his car even as it raced away from your sight. The whole world saw as you kept walking, even when the storm came, even when it started to rain so hard that you couldn’t see a thing. The whole world saw how you took refuge at a bus stop, drenched to the bone, but unable to move and head home. How could you head home? How could you go home knowing that you couldn’t defend your son? That you couldn’t fight for him? How could you tell him that once again, the two of you were left alone, only this time, he wouldn’t even have the hope that someone might come back for him? He had no one and you had no one. Everyone in this world had deserted you. You stared ahead, searching for courage that wouldn’t come.

And right from within the nothingness, you saw a figure in front of you. Like a silhouette afront the blur of the rain that grew larger till it came too close. But even then, it didn’t take full form against the grey of the storm. It didn’t have to. You knew exactly who it was. You had always known.

“What took you so long?” you looked up, unsure whether rain or tears blurred your vision.

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun whispered and immediately covered your shoulders in a trench coat that enveloped you whole.

You were sobbing. You were sure of it now, because your breaths were breaking in your throat and your words were punctuated by them. “Where’s Minki?” you asked desperately as Jaehyun rubbed some warmth into your shoulders with his hands and made you rise to your unstable feet.

“With my mother. He is safe,” he tried to pull you into himself. But you held onto his chest and kept him back so you could look up at his face and make him listen to your pleas.

“How did you know where to find me?” you couldn’t control the tears that flowed from your eyes any more than you could control this storm in the skies.

“Doyoung called me,” he looked into your eyes, searching. He wanted to know more. And you wanted to tell him. You gripped at his shirt like a broken woman, desperate and begging and crying like a lost child.

“Minki’s father…” you began but fuck, it was hard. It was hard to say the words and realize them as you spoke them. It made you cry more because speaking it was making it more real, “... he… he left us. He gave me this and he left us…” you showed him the envelope, dampened and crumpled in your fist.

“Shh… it’s okay… I’m here… I’ve got you...” Jaehyun held your face.

You gripped at his wrists and looked at him, “Are you going to leave me, too?”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened in emotion and he shook his head, whispering a single word, “Never.”

“But the will has been signed,” you cried and you told him all the doubts in your heart.

“You are my wife,” he pressed a sealing kiss to your forehead, “And I am your husband. For as long as you’ll want me,” and he brought a hand to the back of your head and pressed it to his chest and this time, you couldn’t fight him. You let him hold you and keep you warm. You cried into him because you understood the words he told you. You knew. You had always known. So you pushed back to looked up at him,

“I’ll want you forever. As my husband,” you whispered, though your voice cracked and your tears flowed.

“It would be my honor,” he replied. Because he had never turned down any request you’d ever made of him.

All you could do in return was to finally allow yourself to crumble. Because now you knew that he’d be there to pick you up. And that’s what he did. As you cried, he put his arm around you and shielded you from the storm under his umbrella. He sat you in his car and fastened your seatbelt. He took you home and sat you in the tub and bathed you so you’d be warm. He wrapped you up in a robe and dried your hair and when you implored at him,

“I want to see Minki,” he gently replied,

“Let the storm die down. Then I’ll go get him myself.”

How funny it was that he was putting out storms one after the other. The storm in your life, the storm in your mind, the storm in your heart. All because you finally let him in. Like he’d been waiting to hold you and love you, only if you allowed it. And now you had. Like a flip of a switch, everything shifted. You felt the shift in his touch, in your breaths, in the space between the two of you.

He took your silence to mean anxiety and kissed your forehead, “I promise. He is safe with my mother. He won’t be safe on the road in this weather.”

You nodded.

How considerate this man was. How kind. How respectful. How honorable. You had never known men to be this way. Men were selfish, men only gave you respect when you were hard and cold, men would exploit you the moment they sense vulnerability, men broke you down when they saw that you had no way out. That’s how you had known men to be like. Yet, here he was, defying everything you had known, and confirming things about him you had always known but never allowed yourself to realize. You were married to him, yet you’d been blind. You had always been quick to throw away his kindness, his empathy, the love he was always willing to give. You let yourself believe you were alone because you never allowed this man into your heart. What a fool you’d been.

So you stood up and you kissed him. You weren’t going to let him go, not anymore. You weren’t going to pretend that this man was the cause of all your problems. You weren’t going to blame him for your misfortunes anymore. You weren’t going to let your pride get in the way of opening your heart and accepting his warmth and his decency. And in return, you were going to love him with the same kindness and patience he gave you. You were going to care for him and dote on him and be there for him when he would need you. You were going to fill your life with love and light. You were going to chase away the darkness and the storm, hand in hand with him.

And the storm died down, just like Jaehyun had said it would, and he brought Minki back to you, just like he promised he would. You took your son into your arms and you couldn’t bear it. You held him tight and you kissed him and you cried.

“I’m sorry,” you kept telling him, though he wouldn’t understand a word. How could he? He was only a child. How could he understand why his mother was begging for his forgiveness? He only cried in return because he saw you crying, so you held him tighter and kissed him everywhere you could. Maybe one day, he’d understand that you had tried and he might forgive you. He might understand why you had made the decisions that you had. But whether he forgave you or not, you were going to spend everyday letting him know that his mother loved him and that she’d be his shield for as long as she had the strength.

Jaehyun let you two have this private moment, waiting on the sidelines till you were all cried out, then helping you prepare his things to put him to bed. He let you be when you sat on the floor by the edge of Minki’s bed, slowly patting his tiny back even when he had been fast asleep for a while. When you’d been sitting on that floor for a while, not moving an inch for far too long, you felt Jaehyun sit by your side and loop an arm around you, gently guiding your head to rest on his shoulder. He calmed you like you were calming Minki, then brought his lips to your ears.

“I’ll always be here. For you and Minki.”

You closed your eyes. Because you believed him.

“The HO? You’re really getting promoted to the HO?” you sat up straighter in your chair.

“I’m offended by how surprised you sound,” Doyoung quipped.

“Oh, no, I just... Doyoung, that’s amazing!” you quickly backtracked and settled on just being happy for your friend.

“I know you too well so just spit it out,” Doyoung looked at you deadpan. You sighed.

“I just… I’m really gonna miss you so damn bad,” you finally admitted.

Doyoung’s eyes widened for a moment, but then he scoffed a little, “Oh, well. It’s all for the best.”

You looked at him and finally felt the intense pang of guilt you should’ve felt all that time ago when you had first met him. Maybe you finally had your humanity back. So, if your voice shook when you said the next few words, you allowed it. He needed to hear the emotions in your words for once. “I really wish you all the happiness in this world, Doyoung. No one deserves it more than you.”

Doyoung looked at you in surprise. For the first time in your dynamic, you had spoken about him, not just yourself. It wasn’t a surprise he couldn’t find his next words. You had rendered him speechless.

“You always belonged with the HO people,” you wiped away at the sneaky tear that had formed at the corner of your eye and tried to lighten the mood, “All snooty and uppity and self-important like.”

Doyoung scoffed again, only this time it was friendlier, any traces of irony and misery gone, “You know, if I keep playing my cards right, I might become your boss.”

You put your hand up in a mock-salute and straightened up, “Sir, yes, Sir!”

Doyoung laughed, “It won’t be fun being your boss when I’m all the way in the capital. I won’t even get the satisfaction of getting your death stares in person.”

Your face fell. “You’re really going to move to the capital, huh?”

He looked up and gave you a small, nostalgic smile, “I really am.”

You held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. “It’s where all the big shots live. You’ll fit right in.”

He smiled wider, though his eyes still didn’t match his expression, “It’s going to be a new start, alright.”

A new start. All the people in your life got a new start, though you weren’t sure if they were deserving of it or not. Now Doyoung was getting one, too. No one deserved it more than him, though you weren’t sure he was a person in your life. So you realized. This was a goodbye. He was here to bid you farewell. When your heart broke in your chest, you allowed that, too.

“You’re going to be amazing,” you told him sincerely.

He looked down at the table, “I hope so,” he whispered and got up. You got up with him, your heart clenching for your friend. The friend who had given you so much emotional support, the friend who would carry all your baggage by just being a good listener. The friend whose heart you held so carelessly that you broke it. “Well,” he looked at you, “I guess this is goodbye.”

And you finally let the tears fall down to your cheeks. You held his arm to pull him to your height and you kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for everything, Doyoungie. I am never going to forget everything you’ve done for me.”

You supposed you had rendered him speechless once again, because the man froze. Like he didn’t know what to do. But soon he regained his wits about him and stood up straighter. He smiled at you and stroked your hair once, “Don’t miss me too much.”

And perhaps this was going to be the only way you’d realize how much you really needed Doyoung in your life. You’d never really been good with making and keeping friends, and still he had been that one person that never asked you for much. Kim Doyoung might have become your friend and confidant by accident, but he let you vent to him every single time without fail. Did he ever vent to you? You couldn’t remember. All your exchanges with him were utterly selfish. You took from him and never gave. And he let it be that way till he couldn’t. But you needed him and you were going to feel the absence of him. Because you had hurt his pride, and he had let you go. He had decided to let you go when you messaged him for help and he thought it wasn’t his place to help you anymore, but your husband’s. You might’ve been blind, but he wasn’t and he saw what you couldn’t and it hurt his pride; and when he left, you never heard from him ever again.

It was a lesson learnt. Real people had real feelings. Actions had consequences. Relationships were hard work. You had known these clichés all your life, but never truly known them. You had never really thought much outside of yourself and your need to survive. You saw everyone around you as people that either wanted to take from you or people you wanted to take from. You had done all it took to keep your head above water. From staying with your infant son with a man that didn’t want either of you; to begging your parents to help you whilst you found a job to support the two of you. From going door to door to all your friends, asking for a place to stay; to marrying a man you hardly knew just so your son could live with dignity even if all your decisions had been questionable to say the least.

Maybe being reduced to fighting for primal needs took away from other aspects of your humanity. Like kindness. When was the last time you had been kind to another person without wanting something in return? You couldn’t recall. Like empathy. When was the last time you put yourself in someone else’s shoes and felt their pain? You weren’t sure. Like respect. When was the last time you had admired someone for what they did or how they lived? You didn’t know.

You hadn’t really been living. It’s like the past few years stripped you of who you were. You had lost your identity, not just your humanity. But finally, miraculously, it was coming back. Because the tears you cried when you saw your friend walking away were just for him. You were happy for the life he had ahead of him and sad that you weren’t going to see him again. It was a miracle to feel human again. To know you still had a heart that could feel joy and sorrow for someone else. It was exhilarating to experience the consequences of your actions. It was reassuring to go through the emotions that well adjusted members of society have for one another. And in this moment, you closed your eyes and thought only of your husband. For giving you the space to finally feel human again.

Jaehyun never thought he’d be the clingy type. Then again, he hadn’t really been in a true relationship before. How could he have possibly known this about himself when he had never honestly put himself in this position before? But the sweet pleasure that came with domestic bliss was unlike any he could’ve imagined. The mellow contentment he was feeling just resting his head on his wife’s chest was nothing he had ever experienced before. The fact that you were lazily running your fingers in his scalp wasn’t helping the drunken haze he felt.

“Do you wanna lay in bed properly? You could take a quick nap,” you suggested, kissing the top of his head. The couch wasn’t big enough for his tall form, but that’s where he had found you and that’s where he had decided to settle in.

“Mm mm,” Jaehyun hummed in the negative, “I don’t want to move,” he mumbled and tightened his arms around your middle as if to drive the point home.

“You did a good job today, setting up the crib all by yourself,” you smiled at his tired form. Moving into your new house was tough work with both of your schedules. You didn’t even want to look at the piles of cardboard boxes that littered most of the living room where the two of you lounged. Jaehyun had done most of the heavy lifting, but the simple prospect of having to organize them over the next few days was already tiring you out.

“I did a good job?” Jaehyun lifted his sleep head up from your chest, smiling expectantly as he looked up.

“You did,” you smiled back, because who were you kidding? You were a simple girl with simple tastes. Watching your husband become a handyman was a basic fantasy and you hadn’t denied yourself the luxury of ogling at the muscles in his back rippling through his shirt as he worked.

“Then can I have a kiss?” he asked shamelessly, despite the sleep in his state.

You laughed. But you leaned in and kissed his lips. He had earned it, anyway. He’d taken a day off from work so the two of you could finally start setting up your new home. Minki’s room had been the first you had chosen to finish. It’s the first time your little boy had gotten his own room and you both had set it up with all the love you had in your hearts. Jaehyun had gotten so many toys that you had argued they wouldn’t fit. But he was determined and stubborn and had found a place for all the things he had bought. No wonder he was so tired now. Lazing about on the couch, cuddled into you.

Minki toddled towards you then, holding onto the sheet of paper he had been scribbling away at with his brand new set of crayons. He pressed it into Jaehyun’s face, wanting his attention.

“Not now, my love. Daddy is sleeping,” you whispered at him with a finger on your lip, smiling.

But Jaehyun never had it in him to tell him no. Though his eyes were droopy and his body heavy, he held the paper with both his hands and gave the boy all the encouragement he could muster for his little creation and promised that he would put it up on the refrigerator proudly. Then he scooped the boy into his arms and tucked him into the couch as well, muttering, “Nap time,” and miraculously, Minki giggled but gave in.

Your legs were going to be numb in a moment, you were sure of it because the two boys had pretty much decided that on top of you was a fairly suitable napping spot. You didn’t move, though, not for a single moment. Jaehyun had slid over to tuck himself under your arm and over your chest and Minki effectively used your belly as a pillow and buried his face into Jaehyun. You reached over to stroke your son’s head because your lips couldn’t reach him. But they reached Jaehyun’s forehead just fine. If you could stay like this forever, you would. Right here in this moment, without changing a thing.

“Here it is. The first snow,” you whispered. You didn’t get a reply because Jaehyun’s eyes had closed. So you marveled at the window of your new home. Finally, after all the years of wishing and hoping, the first snow had brought for you a new tomorrow. A happier life. A life with love. You smiled at it and prayed a silent thank you and let your eyes close, too. No one wishes at the snow, but you’re glad you did all those years.

When Jaehyun woke from his nap, he found you asleep, so he got up carefully and carried Minki into his new room and tucked him in. So many years he had spent wishing at the snow to give him his own family. And now he had it. He felt your presence at the door frame and turned around, pressing a finger to his lips. He tiptoed out and held your hand and you walked together in companionable silence, unbeknownst to the other that you were just two snow wishers who found their dreams in each other.

So he made love to you that night on the mattress on the floor of the room you hadn’t even set up yet. You were going to. You were going to set it up hand in hand and fill it with love and happiness and all the human moments you were going to live together. You had found a harbor in Jaehyun, but it was his dreams that had come the truest. Too many years he had longed to be a husband and a father, and never thought he’d live to see that day in truth. But slowly and surely, you let him in. Little by little, letting him love you the way he had always envisioned he would love his family. His dreams came true. His snow wishes came true. His marriage came true. His love came true.

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