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bvckys-doll · 3 years

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Masquerade

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: Y/N and her family are invited to a masquerade ball since Netherfield hall has a new owner: Lord James Buchanan Barnes. What (Y/N) does not know is that this will be her last night among the living.

Warnings: soft!dark themes here! A bit of manipulation. Blood! Pride and Prejudices vibes at the beginning of the fic.

Author’s note: I’m happy that I can finally post this one because I’m a whore for masquerade balls and vampires! Especially Vampire!Bucky! This goes out to @emily-roberts (who can’t be tagged unfortunately) since they inspired me to work on Masquerade here! Maybe this will get a sequel, i’m not sure yet.

You can find my masterlist here!

The year is 1867. Queen Victoria is still in power, and the country is at peace. At least, to the people who are lucky enough to live in the countryside in England. Especially the women who were the ones that learned the least of the ongoing problems around the world. At this time in history, they were mostly excluded from these kinds of conversations. Something (Y/N) was deeply offended by.

Most of the women around her had only one thing on their mind: the latest gossip and men.

Nothing would fit better into the gossip than a mysterious lord who had recently moved into the large estate near Netherfield Park. The whole city was in turmoil, and everyone wanted to get one of the coveted invitations to the grand inauguration party.

(Y/N) could still remember the day a few weeks ago when her mother was running around the house in a rage and talking to herself over and over again. Her father had tried to ignore his wife as much as possible.

“I have heard from Mrs. Brenstock that the new Lord of Netherfield Park is about to give a ball. A ball, Mr. Edwards! Can you imagine that? He doesn’t seem to have sent out any invitations yet, otherwise, we would have gotten one by now, wouldn’t we? Tell me I’m right” she had let herself sink into her chair. With the thick needle in her hand, she repeatedly stabbed her new embroidery cloth.

(Y/N) had been sitting across from her mother at the time and hardly noticed her rambling about the ball, as the young lady was too absorbed in her thoughts about her newest book, which was on the table in front of her.

For her mother, this was finally the chance to marry her off to a rich man. Perhaps even to the owner of the estate himself, since many speculated him to be single. Most women of (Y/N)’s age were already married, some even had children.

It wasn’t that (Y/N) wasn’t very talkative. If she was given a suitable subject, she could chat for hours, but her mother had always preached to her that no man wanted a woman with a loud attitude. Despite all this, (Y/N) didn’t kept her mouth shut and spoke freely about what she thought. Mostly.

It had been a month since that conversation between her parents and (Y/N) was now sitting with them in a carriage on their way to the estate of the new lord of Netherfield Park.

The letter had arrived about two days after the long discussion between her mother and her quiet father. (Y/N) seemed to be more relieved than her mother because she couldn’t bear her constant chatting and complaining about the ball.

In her lap was a white mask that her mother had brought home a few days ago. A masquerade. That was the order of the new landlord. An unusual way to celebrate a party, where you wanted to get to know the locals better, but (Y/N) didn’t put much thought into it.

With a calm look, she peered out of the window of the carriage and could see how the estate grew in the distance. The lights were shining through the high windows towards them as they rode the carriage to the large courtyard, where some other women were already getting out of their carriages and ascending the great marble staircase with their families.

Her father was the first to go out of the carriage, before he helped his wife out. In the end, he reached out to his daughter. For a brief moment, (Y/N) struggled with the wide skirt of her dress, before standing firmly on the ground.

Once again, she let her gaze wander over the courtyard and looked up at the broad facade of the estate. Suddenly (Y/N) caught a glimpse of a silhouette. Someone who seemed to be looking down at them and was watching what was going on. But before (Y/N) could take a closer look, her mother grabbed her arm and dragged her into the hall.

Upstairs in the said room, James watched how the carriages gathered in the courtyard and presented the different guests of almost every status. All came to see some of the wealth of the estate and the treasures that were on display in its halls.

“How many people will visit us tonight? Take a guess” Steve asked him. He was sitting at his best friend’s desk and had put his feet on the tabletop while he leaned back.

James’s gaze was still on the staircase as his gaze followed the woman who had just looked up at him. Yet he replied, “More than two hundred, I would say. Enough to get our bellies full for the next month. You’re going to keep them under control, aren’t you? We need posts at every door.”

“Of course. I’ve never worked sloppy before. You should know that”, Steve winked at him before he stood up and drained the last remaining blood out of his cup. The next moment he pulled some gloves out of his jacket and put them on “But answer me one. Why a masquerade?”

“You don’t want anyone to remember us by mistake, do you?”, a dark smile grazed James features. A similar smile came up on Steve’s face before he pulled the mask over his eyes and left.

In the meantime, the large ballroom of the estate had filled with guests and a small orchestra on a raised balcony played quiet music.

With all the hustle, (Y/N) wondered if she would even recognize anyone. The masks just made it harder to spot anyone she knew. Maybe she could get away from her mother. Time and time again she looked for familiar eyes.

Nervously, she again smoothed the wrinkles of her skirt and chewed around her lower lip. With each breath, it seemed to her as if the corsage of her dress was still lacing up.

Before her inner rambling could cause her to make her more uncomfortable, the hitting of a staff made the crowd go quiet. Everyone held their breath and turned to the source of the voice “Please welcome Lord James Buchanan Barnes and Colonel Steven Grant Rogers!”

The guests applauded in honour of the two men who were standing on a raised platform at the end of the hall. One of them stepped forward and raised his wine glass. (Y/N) couldn’t make out his features. Still, he wore a fancy dark suit with a wine-red tie. His slightly longer hair was tied with a ribbon in the back of his head. Although (Y/N) couldn’t see his eyes, they seemed pitch black.

“It is an honour to welcome you all to my new home. Until now, I have been welcomed with kindness in this beautiful little town and I am very happy to get to know you all better soon. I haven’t even lived here for a month, but it already feels like home to me. Let us all enjoy this evening. Sing, laugh and dance!”, his voice echoed through the room. It gave (Y/N) goosebumps.

He raised his glass to which his guests responded with the same gesture before they all took a sip of their drinks. It took less than five seconds, and the conversations were resumed. It was as if that greeting had never happened.

But (Y/N) could not take her eyes of her host. This was the person she had previously seen standing at the window. Before she could look away from him, he had already noticed her and seemed to reply to her stare. She tensed.

She hastily looked at the wine glass in her hand, from which she quickly took a short sip. The music started again. This time a bit louder than before because the guests began to dance. It wouldn’t take long for her mother to approach her once again and tell her daughter to find a suitable dance partner for the night.

“Do you see that woman over there? The one in the red dress and the white mask”, Bucky walked next to Steve as they made their way through the guests, who all respectfully stepped aside and bowed. Again and again, the two nodded to some people appreciatively.

Steve followed his friend’s gaze unobtrusively and nodded briefly “Pretty little thing. Do you want to go play or save her all to yourself for the night?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but I am sure going to do something with her”, he winked at Steve and stopped at the edge of the dance floor, watching his guests dance. Shortly thereafter, Steve also left him to dance with his wife Margaret, who approached them.

While his friends were busy having fun at the party, James resumed his search for the woman he had just spotted. It did not take long for him to find her her standing next to an elderly couple, who seemed to have an exciting conversation with two other guests. The woman herself didn’t seem very interested in the conversation and kept sipping on her glass. That was his cue.

(Y/N) gave out a soft sigh and investigated her wine glass, which would soon be empty. She listened with one ear to the conversation of her parents but did not attempt to participate herself. The unknown woman just boasted how her daughter had married a wealthy man from Oxford some time ago and now lived there. (Y/N) was already getting ready for a sermon from her mother.

Once again, the young woman raised her glass to her red lips as suddenly-

“Excuse me if I bother you but would you do me the honour of dancing with me?” said a deep voice to her, which seemed quite familiar to (Y/N). Her gaze wandered from her glass to the chest of the man standing before her. Her breath was stunted. It was Lord Barnes looking down at her with a gentle smile on his lips. He held out his hand to her, but (Y/N) couldn’t take her eyes off him.

For a moment, it seemed as if (Y/N) had forgotten to have a normal and decent conversation when her mother stepped in and tore the glass out of her hand “She would be honoured to dance with you, Lord Barnes.”

A charming smile spread across his lips as her mother said so. But he turned his gaze to (Y/N) again and asked for her approval “I hope that is indeed the case.”

(Y/N) blinked. Once, twice.

“Yes, I would very much like to dance with you”, she now agreed herself and took his hand, which he still held out to her. He gently drew her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her hand “What a relieve.”

It was not only her mother who lost her breath at this gesture. Like in a trance, (Y/N) followed her new dance partner onto the wide dance floor, where people automatically made room for them in awe. Soon he stopped with her in the middle of the dance floor and pulled her to his chest, where she instinctively assumed her posture and placed her hand on his shoulder.

Slowly the music started anew. A slow waltz. Controlled, he guided her through the room, and it seemed as if (Y/N) had never done anything else in her life. Every step was exactly as it should be. It was as if they were floating over the dance floor. At least, it seemed like that to her.

“I hope I didn’t take you by surprise”, James remarked, looking down at his dance partner, who focused her eyes on his chest. The reason behind it was the fact that he was a lot taller than her.

Hastily (Y/N) shook her head as her cheeks heated up “Not at all, my lord. I was just surprised, that’s all. There are so many beautiful young women here, I wondered why you chose me.”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have just chosen the prettiest in the room”, James replied, presenting her his charming smile, which made his eyes light up for a second. (Y/N)’s knees got soft. It seemed liked she had been enchanted by his aura.

It wasn’t long before the music became quieter and stopped. Together with the other couples, they stopped and applauded the musicians before James gave her his arm and whispered to her “Would you like to accompany me outside? It seems to be getting a little stuffy in here.”

A lie. It’s been years since James truly breathed air.

“I would love to.”, (Y/N) nodded and took shelter with her host before following him out onto the wide terrace. On their way there, (Y/N) did not notice James meeting the eyes of one of his men. It was Sam who stood near the exit and smiled at his friend. He knew James had found someone new to play with. If only it were for tonight.

“A beautiful night, don’t you think?” James looked up to the sky, where thousands of stars were glowing. It was more common here in the countryside. In the cities, the stars could be barely seen by the smoke rising through the chimneys into the sky.

(Y/N) followed his gaze and leaned forward against the wide stone railing. She nodded back, “Yes, it is. You haven’t seen such a sight very often, have you? I mean, I heard you moved out of town. What prompted you to do this?”

“The war and tranquillity I am looking for”, James replied honestly this time and turned his gaze back to (Y/N), who was still looking up at the stars, but noticed how he looked at her with his eyes: “You haven’t told me your name yet.”

“You didn’t ask for it either”, (Y/N) replied quick and smiled.

Oh, she’s cheeky. I like that.

He laughed for a moment and neck before he asked, “May I know your name, milady?”

At last, she looked at him again and her eyes shone as she replied with a smile, “My name is (Y/N). And I’m not a lady, my lord.”

The tension she had felt before in his presence was blown away. She felt comfortable in his presence, but she couldn’t explain why. He radiated a certain calmness that made her feel safe and comfortable.

He tilted his head to the side as he smiled, “The name suits you. But tell me, (Y/N), why would a pretty woman like you be alone with your parents at a party like this? There must be a man in your life.”

“Why? Because a woman like me needs a man?” she answered with a counter-question. She wondered how long he would put up with it. But it seemed that the remark would excited him more.

He raised an eyebrow, to which she smiled briefly and replied honestly, “I have a mind of my own, as my mother says. Most men don’t like this feature very well. In our small town, they want a woman who makes a man look good. She has to be pretty and smart, but not too smart for her to make the man look stupid. She needs to be educated, but not waste too much time on it. The piano is very popular with most men.”

“Women who only deal with the latest gossip have never really interested me. Besides, I like to talk to women who can keep up with my intellect. Someone like you”, James replied honestly again, leaning his hip against the stone wall to take a close look at her.

As (Y/N) fixed her posture to look him right in the eye, he stepped foward. He gently raised his hand and put his index finger under her chin to raise it so that she could not take her eyes off of him, “Men can be stubborn, especially English men. But we Americans love it when a woman has something more on her mind than piano notes and pretty clothes. How boring it would be to have someone with you who only agrees with everything you say. I have met lots of these women, but I have seldom encountered someone like you.”

Smiling, (Y/N) held his gaze as he took his hand from her chin and took her hand in his. She looked down for a moment but did not attempt to let go.

“You’re the first man to say something like that to me, and you seem to mean it”, she smiled and briefly squeezed his hand. From the gloves he was wearing, she didn’t even notice how cold they were. Once again, he put her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of her hand, “I am glad to see my presence and my personality please you, Lady (Y/N).”

“As I said, I’m not a lady”, she laughed softly as her cheeks heated up once more. The smile on his lips made her knees soft again, “To me, you are one.”

With every moment that passed, he liked the young woman more and more. Something he didn’t expect. It was selfish, but he knew then and there he wouldn’t let her go. Not as fast as he had planned. It would be difficult to inspire her for eternity once he had done it.

A life like him could also be lonely and desolate. Many souls had already gone mad after being transformed and being unable to return to the world of the living. It drove them mad. He wouldn’t let his (Y/N) go crazy. Not so easily.

“My Lord?” her sweet voice tore him from the thoughts that were swirling through his head. His gaze fell back on her as she gave him a worried look. He gently brushed a strand of her hair from her face and smiled calmly, “Forgive me, I was in my head.”

“Do you think maybe we should go back to the hall? Your guests would also like to exchange a few words with you. I don’t want to besiege you forever”, (Y/N) glanced over her bare shoulder and looked at the tinted glass doors that shielded her from the guests. Many couples were on the dance floor together and seemed cheerful.

“I think my guests will be able to be just fine without my constant presence for a while. Besides, it would be a lie if I said I didn’t want to spend some more time with you”, he replied, following her gaze briefly before turning her gaze to him.

It seemed almost supernatural to (Y/N) that a man like Lord Barnes would take such an interest in her, but it was mutual. She didn’t want to leave him. Not yet. She was delighted with his company and gave him a warm smile before she replied, “And it would be a lie if I said I am not pleased by your interest.”

A burst of hearty laughter came over James' lips. It had been a long time since he had heard such words that had truly touched him. Smiling, he held her hand that was still in his, before leading (Y/N) from the terrace into the wide garden, where many lanterns illuminated their path.

(Y/N) had already placed her hand on his arm and followed him through the small maze that stood in the middle of the garden. The tall hedges shielded them from curious eyes as they disappeared deeper and deeper into the maze.

“My parents will probably be wondering where I am”, (Y/N) smiled as she followed James through the hedges, still holding his hand tightly in fear she could lose him. Apparently, he knew his way around the maze very well, for he guided them safely to a small square that marked the middle of the maze.

In the middle of the square stood a beautifully decorated pavilion, clad in red and white roses and ivy trees. James led her there and sat down with her on one of the two benches.

“Your parents know you’re in good hands with me. I would never allow anything…bad to happen to you”, James merely replied. (Y/N) couldn’t have known that evil himself was still holding her hand and concealing his cruel nature with a pretty face. He could feel her heartbeat speeding up a bit.

“You know, (Y/N), a life like mine. . . is very lonely”, he told her, looking at the flowers hanging next to him on a pole. Yet he noticed how her gaze stuck to him. In a calm voice he continued, “Although I am very wealthy and have seen so much of the world, I have been missing someone to share this life with for years. Someone who accepts me for who I am and doesn’t want to be with me just for my money and my land. Do you understand what I mean?”

His gaze fell back on her. (Y/N)’s eyes almost pierced through his head as her eyes turned glassy. A soft sigh escaped her as she gazed down into her lap.

“I understand you very well. Even though my mother’s efforts are straining me a lot, I still want someone who. . . likes me for me. Who wants me. Not for my dowry, but for myself. I have never spoken to someone who understands me as well. . . as you do”, she replied, being astonished at her words.

James Barnes was the first man she could talk to without having to pretend. Her slightly rough nature had not deterred him. He had been tenacious, but still kind and attentive. It’s been a long time since she met someone like him. His personality seemed to drew her even closer to him. As if there was an invisible ribbon, which now tied her to him.

“You are so much more than just your dowry and a pretty face, (Y/N). Maybe it’s too hasty, but it would be a pleasure for me to get to know you better. The real (Y/N), who doesn’t have to act and doesn’t want to impress anyone. I already know you a little, but. . . not quite yet”, he stroked her cheek, giving her goosebumps. In a good way.

A short smile grazed her lips as she put her hand on his, “I would also like to get to know you better, my lord.”

“Please call me James. The title is too formal for me”, he smiled gently at her and ran his thumb over her cheekbones as (Y/N) muttered softly, “As you wish,…James.”

Slowly, he noticed her pulse increasing. He looked her in the eyes again as he got closer, and she could feel his cold breath on her skin. For a brief moment, it seemed like a dream to her, but it became reality at the moment as his lips touched hers. (Y/N) froze. She wasn’t expecting that. Not yet.

Immediately he broke away from the kiss and pulled his hand from her cheek, “Sorry, that was a little too hasty of me.”

If there was still blood flowing through his body, he’d be blushed. For the first time in a long time, he seemed nervous and ran his fingers through his hair. But (Y/N) grabbed his hand and shook her head calmly, “No, please. I was just…surprised that you…feel that way about me.”

“You’re just…so different. In a positive way, of course”, he held her hand and squeezed it briefly once when (Y/N) was the one who came a little closer and leaned forward, “No, you must forgive me. I didn’t mean to reject you. I like you…very much.”

Now James knew it was the right time.

Slowly he leaned over to her and kissed her gently on the mouth. Sighing her eyes closed as the young lady returned his kiss a little cautiously. After all, he had more experience in it than she did. But only now did (Y/N) realize how cold he was. It’s almost freezing.

“James, you’re so cold”, (Y/N) gently detached herself from the kiss and held her lips as he stroked her cheek and put a strand behind her ear: “Don’t worry. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Once again, he conquered her lips and pulled her closer to his chest. A little more courageously, (Y/N) grabbed the collar of his suit and pulled him closer. She closed her eyes again as he slowly continued to kiss her but wandered from her cheek down to her throat. Her eyes remained closed as she enjoyed his kisses on her warm skin. His lips were still cold, but now she did not seem to care anymore.

Soon he could hear her rapid heartbeat as he lavished kisses on her neck. (Y/N) did not notice how his eyes darkened and his teeth stretched into pointed pillars.

For a moment, James wrestled with himself over whether he should really kill her or go even further. Still, one thing was very clear. (Y/N) would never see the light of day again.

"Forgive me." he breathed against her soft skin and closed his eyes before placing his hand over her mouth. Before (Y/N) could even realize what was happening to her, he rammed his teeth into her neck. Her scream was stifled by his hand, but her body didn't give up so quickly. Panicked, she pushed and pounded against his chest as James sucked the blood from her body. But all her attempts did her no good, as he was far too strong for her.

Finally, she slumped lifelessly in his arms and sank against his chest. Sighing, James detached himself from her neck and pressed another soft kiss to the wound where his teeth had pierced her skin moments ago.

Gently he laid the young woman on the bench and pushed her hair out of her face. Carefully he untied the ribbon at the back of her head and pulled the mask from her face.

"Just as I imagined, my darling..." he ran his thumb over her lower lip and looked into her lifeless eyes before pulling his own mask off his face and tossing it on the floor beside him.

He took her hand in his and kissed the back of her hand, "I'll take care of you, my angel. No one will ever be able to hurt you again. We'll be together forever."

#vampire!bucky barnes #soft dark theme #soft dark #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #female reader #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #dont repost #fanfiction #own gif #giphy #masquerade

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startanewdream · 3 years

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the visit

Written for @blackinnonweek though I totally forgot to post it in time.

Here's a little angst Marlene Lives AU, just in case:

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The sound of the children’s laughter greets her as soon as she disapparates in an empty alley two blocks from her house.

Marlene turns automatically, standing in the shadows a few seconds longer than she should, just watching the children in the nearby playground. They are playing, enjoying the end of the afternoon; today their attention is directed to three or four dogs that are playing chase with them.

As she looks, the biggest dog there, a black thin mutt dog turns to look at her, crooking its head to the side as if it can see there in the shadow of the alley, despite the fact that it’s protected by magic.

Dogs can sense magic, an old voice whispers into her head, and she remembers being eighteen and hopeful and in love, laying on the grass on a Muggle park—he always favoured Muggle places—, watching people walking with their dogs. He was smirking, guarding a secret he had never shared. Dogs are special.

She shakes her head, turning around and leaving the alley towards the backstreet. It’s a short walk to her house, less than two minutes, but still Marlene counts at least two sets of eyes over her. She is tempted to joke that she wouldn’t have survived the war if she couldn’t tell when she is being followed, but she stays quiet. They are just doing their job, pointless as it is.

It’s not like he will come to her, not when… not when he has ignored her for twelve years.

She wonders vaguely if this surveillance is why Remus accepted the job at Hogwarts. If he is tired of being followed as well.

But Marlene can’t know because they haven’t talked for years.

She hasn’t talked with most of the Order for years.

The darkness of the house greets her. She turns on the lights, moves to the kitchen to prepare her welcome-home tea, and sorts through the correspondence that arrived while she was out. Nothing important, and a part of her wonders if her mail is being watched as well; she doubts that prisoners on the run would send an owl, but still the idea of aurors searching through her Witch Weekly magazine is kind of fun...

The water has boiled. She pours the water over the leaves, looking outside; there is the sound of barks coming from the street, but she can’t see the dogs there. Maybe they are chasing after the hidden aurors…

A sound of footsteps alert her. It’s very soft, enough that someone else might not have listened but, again, Marlene survived a war. She realizes belatedly that she left her wand in the table behind her, so she does the next best thing. She grabs a knife from the sink, turning and throwing it in the direction of the kitchen door before she can even blink.

The knife vanishes in the living room, hitting nothing.

When she turns back, Sirius Black is sitting by the table.

And he looks… terrible, just like the photos in the Daily Prophet that she tried to avoid despite the fact they were everywhere. There is nothing of the man she once loved in the ghost that currently haunts her kitchen, except—

His grey eyes—pale and with dark circles under, gaunt and so scared—shine as he looks at her. A longing that shouldn’t be familiar and yet it is, as true as it was years ago, flourishes on her chest and she wants to hold on to him, to make this right somehow, to wake up from that strange dream…

But she is awake. And Sirius is dangerous, that’s the only truth she has ever received.

Marlene eyes her wand on the table. It’s closer to him, but he looks so thin that maybe she is faster? But then again, he was sharp enough to break out…

“Tea?” he asks, voice raspy and unused. “You always hated it.”

Marlene blinks. “Things change.”

“Oh, I know,” he whispers, his eyes moving over her face, taking in every detail. “I see.”

What does he see, Marlene wonders. Sometimes she looks in the mirror and she doesn’t think she aged a day. Other times she asks who is the woman staring back at her.

“You look beautiful,” Sirius adds and somehow this makes her laugh. It’s probably the insane kind of laugh that she learned from him ages ago, but Sirius only looks confused. “What’s wrong?”

“The most wanted criminal in the country just broke into my house to compliment me,” she says, drying the tears from her eyes. The mirth is gone. “You shouldn’t be here.”

He pauses. “Why?”

“There are two or three aurors watching me every step. They will probably be here anytime—”

“They don’t know I’m here,” he answers confidently. “And they won’t.”

“I could tell them,” Marlene says, narrowing her eyes.

“You could have warned them minutes ago.”

She could and they both know it. “I should,” she whispers, and suddenly she is twenty-one again, confused and lost after her family is gone and life as she knew broken, her best friend killed and Sirius…

“I missed you,” he says, standing up now, his fingers trembling even as he doesn’t move closer.

Fury and bitterness flood her. “No, you didn’t.”

“I—”

“I went to visit you. Twice, because I wasn’t stupid enough in the first time. And you refused to see me. You refused me.”

“I… What was there for you to see? I couldn’t have another good memory for them to suck—”

“It wasn’t about you,” she hisses, hating herself for keeping her voice down so it doesn’t attract any attention. “I just wanted answers!”

“I am innocent,” he says, sounding only broken. “I would have sworn it and… you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Then why—”

“I’d never betray James. You know that.”

It’s all Marlene has ever thought in the past twelve years. “All I know is that James is dead and so is Lily and Peter and—”

“No, it’s not like this, Peter…” He closes his fist, enraged and suddenly menacing. “He is alive and I’ll find him.”

“So you can kill him for real this time?”

“Yes,” he admits, not ashamed, and Marlene remembers it took a lot for Sirius to feel bashful about anything. “We changed the secret keeper. He betrayed them, Lene, not me.”

Lene. No one has called that like that in twelve years.

“Azkaban did make you crazy,” she whispers, shaking her head. “Crazier, actually. Pretending you—”

“Look at me and say you never questioned it. Say that you believe I really did all those things.”

“I…”

Marlene remembers waking up the first day of November and looking at the newspaper and not understanding anything. She remembers facing the dreadful journey to Azkaban only to be turned away.

The prisoner didn’t authorize any visit.

Did you tell him who it was? (Did you tell him it was Lene?)

Yes. He doesn’t want to see you.

“You’d have told me,” she says. One of those mornings or nights, when we laid in bed, catching our breaths, body still sore after we made love, you’d have told me. I held no secrets for you.

He looks sorrowful. “There is so much I never told you,” he admits, a note of guilt in his voice. “I am sorry, Lene.”

She closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, and she hears soft footsteps. Her heart pumps in her chest but the touch she waits never comes; when she opens her eyes, the backdoor is open and there is no one with her.

She runs to her backyard, but other than a few dogs running in the street, Marlene doesn’t see anyone else.

Her wand waits for her on the table; he could have picked it, he could have done something, but all Sirius did was… look for her. I missed you.

She breathes slowly, remembering their meeting even as she tries to forget it, lock it away somewhere no one can take it from her. Then she grabs her coat and leaves the house, running quickly.

It’s no surprise that one of the aurors catches up with her; it’s the young woman with pink hair that came before to question her, and she looks almost apologetic to interrupt Marlene.

“Wotcher,” she says, winking. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the Ministry,” Marlene says, not stopping to answer; she is close to the alley now and those dogs seemed to be following them as well. “I want to check some old archives.”

“Oh.” The woman presses her lips for a moment. “You know I’ll need to report this later. Which files?”

“The one about Peter Pettigrew’s death,” Marlene replies, turning in the spot. The last thing she hears before she vanishes is a dog howling though there is no moon.

#blackinnonweek2021 #blackinnon #Sirius and Marlene were an it couple back in my teenage years #though I could pay my homage to it

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theright-sideofme · 3 years

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Mate. C. San. [Part 1]

Werewolf!San x fem!reader WC: 3.7k Warnings: arranged marriage, mentions of past verbal abuse.let me know if i missed anything

series masterlist | main masterlist Next Part

As a child you were told stories about what lurked in the woods and why you were never to go in them alone. After all, “a young girl like you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself.” Those belittling words made you sick. You were very much capable of protecting yourself, you were just never allowed to. Your father made sure you stayed at home with your mother, learning how to become a “good wife” so he could wed you off as soon as possible. The old man was absolutely insufferable. Always commenting on how you were going to die alone if you kept up your stubborn antics, which only made you act up more. You didn’t want to be just someone's wife, you wanted to be your own person, with opinions that mattered and a voice that was heard, but that’s just not the life you were born into.

You remember the first time your father told you about the woods, it was around the same time you were beginning to realize your parents were utterly shit people. “Father, why can’t I go play in the woods?” “Those woods aren’t meant for little girls Y/n, it’s filled with all sorts of horrible monsters,” and that should’ve been enough to scare you, but it only intrigued you more. What type of monsters? What did they look like? Would they want to play with you? You were ready to bombard your father with all those questions, but the loud, whining howl cutting through the crisp morning air cut you off and had your father scrambling to get you inside. Ever since then you had felt drawn to the woods, a longing you felt in every fiber of you being. It was almost as if you were longing for a home you had never been to.

You sat outside, letting the sun warm skin as you leaned against the old oak tree in the garden, you felt at peace. This week had been hectic, lots of running around doing errands, getting ready for the arrival of a very well respected family. You were probably the least excited for their arrival, which was ironic seeing as you were probably going to be leaving with them. Their son had taken an interest in you at the king's annual Winter Ball and insisted that you be his wife. Even after turning him down on the spot, he was persistent. Eventually his father contacted yours and now they were on their way for a week of business talk regarding the arrangement of your soon to be engagement. You were sick, absolutely revolted at the thought of marrying this spoiled brat of a man who simply couldn’t take no for an answer.

Looking over to the woods, you sighed, wishing you could just run and just never stop. Run until you're so deep in the woods no one would ever be able to find you. What was really stopping you other than your father? Your own fears? No, it wasn’t that, you had more to fear at home than in the woods. The longer you thought about it, the more you realized nothing was holding you back other than the belief you couldn’t. Your entire life you were told you not to so you just believed you couldn’t, but in actuality there was nothing stoping you from standing up and walking right into the woods.

“Y/n!”--

-- Except your mothers shrieking scream of your names.

“Y/n where the hell are you! They’re going to be here any moment!” And your peace was broken. All thoughts of running off into the woods being pushed aside, deemed a silly escape fantasy as you stood up to go put your mothers worrying to rest.

“Where were you” Hongjoong asked, even though he already knew the answer. San had a bad habit of getting too close to town, almost being caught more times than the pack could count. But there was one manor in particular San loved visiting, the Y/l/n manor. A huge, beautiful house surrounded by acres of land that belonged to the most well respected family in the country. Hongjoong believed San had a death wish to be getting so close to a house that belonged to a family of that status. San’s excuse was he liked the thrill, which was partly true, but not the reason he visits said house almost everyday.

“Out” San shrugged his alpha off, walking right past him and into the kitchen. Hongjoong didn’t leave it at that, not this time. He was worried about San and what would happen to not only him but the rest of the pack if he got caught.

“You can’t keep going out there,” San scoffed, not even sparing Hongjoong a glance as he got himself some water. “I’m serious, you’re putting all of our lives in danger by going out there so often” “I know what I’m doing” “do you? Then enlighten me because I have no fucking clue why you would actively put your life at risk just to get a peak at that stupid house!” Hongjoong’s voiced boomed through the entire house, which caught the attention of the rest of their packmates who quickly came to the kitchen to see what was going on.

“You wouldn’t understand” San mumbled, feeling a bit more humbled after Hongjoong had used his alpha voice. Hongjoong very rarely used his alpha voice and when he did, it was terrifying. Everyone in the house could feel the fear in their bones when he did, along with an overwhelming urge to back off and obey their alpha. San was no different, feeling the immediate need to tuck tail and run after pissing Hongjoong off so much.

Hongjoong hated using his alpha voice. He never wanted any of his packmates to feel like he was ever unfairly using his alpha status against them, but he just couldn’t help it when it came to matters that involved the whole pack's safety. At first he was fine with letting San look around, sneak peaks at the town and the manor. He thought if he let him get all his curiosity out he would be fine and he wouldn’t need to go back again, but he was wrong. After his first time visiting the manor he immediately went back the next day, and the day after that and almost every day for the past three months, and Hongjoong was more than worried for what it meant for the pack if he was caught.

“Try me” the alpha offered, so angry but also so desperate to understand San’s apparent need to go back to the manor so often. He wanted to help out the younger boy while also keeping him safe. San averted his eyes to the ground as he took in a shaky breath. “I saw my mate.” His voice was so quiet anyone with normal hearing would’ve missed it, but in the house full of werewolves, everyone heard it.

Absolute chaos broke out among the pack, everyone shouting questions at San about how he knew and what it was like. Words jumbled up together as everyone fought to get their question answered and to understand what having a mate was like. They all knew they had mates, every werewolf did, but San was the first in the pack to actually meet- well, see, his. Hongjoong stood with an indecipherable look on his face that made San uneasy.

“I-I know it’s dangerous for me to keep going there so often. I’ll start going less! I just- I need to see her, it’s the best thing I have since I can’t be with her.” San felt his heart break at his own words. He’d never admitted that to himself out loud and hearing those words leave his lips made him want to crawl into a hole and die, but it was the truth. San knew there was no way he was going to be able to be with you, you were the daughter of a highly respected lord, and from what he heard from the servants today, you were soon to be engaged. It was a cruel joke fate had decided to play on him.

“What do you mean you can’t be with her'' Mingi asked from behind Hongjoong, him and the rest of the pack slowly making their way fully into the kitchen. “She’s lady Y/l’n, daughter of the highly respected Lord Y/l/n” San’s words left his lips with a certain type of sadness that made the rest of his pack members feel for him. They couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to find your mate and know you can’t be with them.

“San-” “please, no pity. I’ll be good, I promise” and despite his airy tone, the look in his eyes gave away how much he was really hurt. “Just, be careful when you go” was all Hongjoong said, not wanting to press him anymore.

It was another day of trying desperately to avoid every living soul who currently resided inside your families manor. You felt overwhelmed these past couple of days with everyone talking so warmly about the now settled engagement. Your father was more than happy to wed you off and your intolerable fiance just wouldn’t leave you alone. You could never find a moment alone, and moment to breath. But now, alone in your garden under your oak tree, you were calm. There was no one trying to remind you to keep up your perfect little image, no fiance rambling on about how excited he was to get you into bed on your wedding night, no father reminding you how lucky you were someone actually wanted to deal with you for once, it was just you and your tree.

Not too far away from you in the woods, unbeknownst to you, stood San. He kept an attentive eye on you, admiring you effortless beauty with total awe. There was a pang in his chest as he remembered his words from a few days prior, “- since I can’t be with her.” God it hurt. All he wanted was to hold you in his arms and protect you from everything evil and bad in this world. He wanted to shower you with affection and feel pride in his chest just from knowing you were all his, but you weren’t.

Almost as if you could feel his longing gaze on you, you looked up into the woods, head cocked to the side in thought. San was ready to duck down and hide, but then your eyes locked with his, and he was frozen, both of you were. You knew you should’ve been scared, you should’ve ran inside screaming for your guards, but you didn’t, you simply stared. You didn’t feel off put or uneasy by his presence, you almost felt comforted, as weird as it sounds.

San on the other hand was a total wreck, his heart beating out of his chest, sweat building up on the bone of his brow. He had no idea what to do, if he should do anything at all. And despite how scared he was of getting caught and potentially putting his whole pack at risk, he was happy to be able to see your face clearly. The calling of your name snapped both of you out of your little trances, San quickly ducking down, and you turning to see who was calling you. “There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you” you fiance said as he quickly made his way over to you. “Your mother wanted me to come get you for dinner” you simply nodded, pushing yourself up off the ground, not expecting your fiance to pull you up by your waist. The sudden action had San growling from behind his tree, watching the man with absolute hatred in his eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing” you asked, quickly pushing his hands off of you. “I was helping you up” “I don’t need your help” “Stop being so stubborn, we’re going to be married soon, you’re going to need to get used to me touching you” “touching me?” “Yes, last time I checked sex involves-” A loud smack echoed through the garden. He stood there for several moments, shocked, trying to assess if that really just happened. “Our engagement gives you no right to touch or talk to me however you so please, do I make myself clear.” Your fiance looked back at you with a darkness you’ve only ever seen from your father. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I am the man in this relationship. You are the woman. My women, my bitch-”

Your fiancé was cut off by a large, sandy wolf jumping in between the two of you. Startled you jumped back, your back now firmly against the tree as you watch the wolf snap and snarl at your fiancé.

You were more shocked than anything, looking at where the sandy colored wolf came from, realizing it was the same place you had just seen that man standing not too long ago. You quickly turned your head back to the wolf and stared in awe. It was huge, much larger than any house dog you had seen before.

Your fiance was soon calling out for the guards which promptly broke you out of your awestruck state. “You have to go, now!” You yelled at the wolf, gently tugging on its fur, which in any other case would’ve gotten your hand bit off. The sound of boots pounding against the floor started getting louder and you were getting more anxious. Not having time to think about why you wanted to save this wolf so badly, you quickly made your way in front of it and started pushing it back. “Go, now!”

San looked up at you, his the red fading from his vision as he stared at your face. However, he didn’t get to look long as the sound of boots soon reached his ears as well. Sparing you one last glance, he turned around and sprinted back into the woods.

“What is it, what happened my lord?” One of the guards asked as soon as they had reached the two of you. “W-Wolf! There was a wolf right there! It nearly tore me to shreds!” Your fiance began to ramble on, the longer he went on, the more the guards looked unsure of his words. “My lady, did you see the wolf?” “Of course she did, it was-” “no, I never saw a wolf.” Your fiance looked at you in total disbelief, but you remained with the same stoic face. The guards simply told our fiance there was nothing they could do since the wolf wasn’t there and led the two of you inside.

The entire diner your thoughts were full of that strange man, who you were certain turned into that wolf. It had to be him, there was no other explanation as to how that wolf got there that fast. Why was he there? Why did he protect you? Why did he make you feel so safe? Those questions lingered in your brain the entire night.

San thought it would be best to stay away for a while after the incident. He didn’t want to risk getting caught in case they were on high alert. So he stayed home, pacing in his room, running circles around the house, roughhousing with his pack mates, pretty much anything to keep him mind off you. It was harder than he thought, especially after being the closest he’s ever been to you, he longed to be that close again.

“San, you need to slow down-” “I’m fine” he responded in a short yell right before turning into his wolf form to go for a run. Seonghwa let out an exasperated sigh as he watched San disappear off into the trees that surrounded their house. “Is he gonna be okay” Wooyoung asked from behind Seonghwa, both of their eyes trained on where the sandy wolf just disappeared. “He’ll be fine” Seonghwa tried to reassure, but it was obvious that even he didn’t know.

You, however, were handling things differently. You had left your family's manor. Year after year you longed to leave and disappear into the woods and all it took was a strange man who you felt oddly connected to for you to actually do it. Why were you so drawn to this man? You didn’t know, all you knew was you needed to find him.

You were running as fast as you could to get as far as possible from your family’s manor. They were going to come looking for you, you knew that much. So the more distance you could put in between you and them the better. As you were running you could barely feel the burning in your lungs or ache of your legs, but rather the wind against your skin and the overwhelming feeling of being free.

You were free.

You weren’t tied down to your wretched family who only cared about selling you like cattle or the rules all of the entailed. No, not anymore. It was like the chains had broken and your cell door was left wide open, and you were free.

San felt different. He was more anxious than he had been the past couple of days, but in a good way. He had no idea what had changed or why he was feeling this way. He didn’t care. All he knew was if he didn’t get out his pent up energy he was going to explode. So out the door he went, ignoring the calls of his packmates and disappearing into the trees.

He ran and ran, enjoying the rush of the wind flowing freely through his fur as he let this light hearted feeling wash over him. He was so caught up in the feeling of running, he hadn't noticed his body had gone in auto pilot, leading him astray from his normal path and deeper into the woods to a place he had never been- a clearing.

There was a crystal blue lake shining like a glittering star in the moonlight. Lily pads were scattered across the smooth surface and flowers bloomed beautifully all around the edges. San hadn’t noticed any of it though. As soon as he entered the clearing his eyes were drawn to a figure sitting on the edge of the lake. And as if you sensed his presence, you looked up and smiled.

“Well hello there.” San’s heart swelled at the sound of your voice and he could’ve sworn his eyes were the personification literal of heart eyes. Your smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, it was warm and inviting and everything he imagined home would feel like. One half of him wanted to scold you for being out here alone where you could get hurt, the other half wanted to run up to you and nuzzle into your side and let you run your fingers through his fur. He opted for the unspoken third option, slowly approaching you, watching you closely for any fear or discomfort, but he saw none. You looked oddly calm for someone who was now face to face with a giant werewolf.

“Why do I feel so connected to you?” You mused aloud with a cocked head as you scanned his face before staring into his eyes. The raw curiosity in your eyes was something of mirrored pure innocence.

San couldn’t answer, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was in his wolf form and he would rather not shift back in front of you. He figured this would be a conversation better with clothes on. So instead of answering, he nudged you till you were next to his back and then lowered himself to the ground, urging you to get on, and you did.

When you reached San’s house, you didn’t feel uncomfortable or out of place. You felt oddly calm, and it was starting to annoy you with how okay you were when it came to anything relating to this strange man. You should be running for the hills, calling the guards and wanting nothing to do with him. San lowered himself enough so you could get off his back and led you to the front door.

“San! I swear to- oh.” The man who was just yelling froze and just stared at you in shock, all of his prior thoughts gone. San noticed how you moved closer to him when Seonghwa had come out, your hands subconsciously reaching out for him and he felt like his heart could burst.

San simply looked up at the elder boy who seemed to understand what San wanted from him.“Um, hi. I’m Seonghwa. Let me get you something to drink while San gets changed.” You looked at San who simply nudged you forward. “That would be nice, thank you.”

You and Seonghwa sat in the kitchen just talking. You thought there would be some sort of awkward silence between the two of you, but in all honesty he was very easy to get along with. He asked you about your family and never pushed you to answer when you were feeling uncomfortable. He even made you a sweet honey rose tea that you fell in love with.

The two of you didn’t talk long though because San had rushed to shift back and get dressed so he could talk to you. San all but bursted into the kitchen, his lovestruck eyes landing on you in an instant. “I- wow, hi.” You couldn’t help but giggle at how cute he was. “Hi.”

Seonghwa sat there for a moment longer, watching as his younger friend looked at you with absolute adoration and how you met his gaze back with a sweet, caring smile. He thought the two of you looked like little lovesick puppies and you barely knew each other. Shaking his head with a smile, he made his way out of the kitchen to give you two some privacy, patting San on the back as he left.

“So, I’m a werewolf” “nice to meet you werewolf” “I- what no! I’m San! My name is San. Sorry, I’m kinda nervous.” You let out a soft laugh, the sound putting all San’s nerves at ease. You stood up so that you were now in front of him, holding your hand out for him to take. “Nice to meet you San, I’m Y/n.”

—

taglist: @itsyaapollochild

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morimakesfanart · 3 years

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Sindria's Prophet #14

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13]

[AO3]

~POV Mori~

I woke up when it was still dark out. Only the faintest light came in my windows.

I hadn't done anything yesterday. Just laid down and rested for the first time in a long time. The doctor's were convinced I needed one more day of rest, but I knew I was already better. When was the last time I had just let my body rest like that when I wasn't sick? I couldn't remember. This peace was nice.

The quiet of sunrise was only broken by the faint sound of bird calls in the distance. I sat up and closed my eyes. I focused everything on my other senses. I couldn't hear the ocean easily from here. I had wanted to use the sounds of the waves to meditate, but I would just have to do without.

It had been a few days since I last checked in with myself and really focused inward. I could still feel them, all of the Black Rukh that had merged with me back in Balbadd. They were much calmer than before. And they felt like a part of me now, like I might be incomplete if they were suddenly gone. I knew each one from the dreams too. Their lives were mine and each also now knew my life as their own.

Going through all of their lives on the ship would have been painful even without being sick. These were angry souls and they did not welcome the inner peace I was offering easily, but a person's Rukh doesn't lie. After reading this world's truth through my memories they all calmed.

All of us lived lives of loss and poverty and trauma. That must have been another part of why we were able to fully merge in such a short time.

As Black Rukh they couldn't return to the Great Flow where the rest of their loved ones were, but they at least had each other within me.

It was a very strange feeling.

And along with their lives and Rukh, their magoi was also now mine. What had felt like a small pool now felt like a large lake. I had a lot more magoi at my disposal now that they were fully integrated with me.

The Great Bell range and I grounded myself in the present.

Only then did it occur to me that I was probably sick, and suffering from the influx of Rukh separately at the same time. It had been both all along. Whatever illness I had was worsened by my situation with the Rukh. I hadn't lost my magoi manipulation during it, but it was probably learning it ahead of time that had saved me. There's no way such a large amount of Rukh entering me wouldn't have made my body unstable.

Would the doctors understand if I explained it to them? I should ask Sinbad before saying something unnecessary.

The dim light from my windows called to me. I got out of my bed, put on my glasses, and sat on the sill of one them at the encouragement of the waves.

Like this, I could look down and see the Palace court yard. On the other side of the court yard were the Silver Scorpio (martial arts training), and Black Libra (libraries & schools) Towers, behind them to the left was the Red Cancer Tower (military) and fully to the left was the Purple Leo Tower where Sinbad lived. Since I was on a high floor I could easily see all of the towers of the Palace from my windows -all except the White Capricorn Tower where Ja'far does most of his work since that building was on the other side of this one.

It was so strange. Looking at all this made it real that I was really here. How many times had I reread or rewatched scenes wondering what it would feel like to be here?

I rested my head on the window frame as I watched the growing light from the sunrise.

The guards changed.

The sun was fully risen. Ja'far would be waking up Sinbad soon if he hadn't already.

Two people walked out of the Purple Leo Tower -a guard and a woman. She wasn't wearing a uniform. In fact she was wearing less than the citizens I saw the other day.

"Oh, right."

Sinbad has a call girl see to him after Ja'far wakes him up.

I had the 3rd fan book for the anime which contains a day-in-the-life for a bunch of the main characters. It was only in Japanese, but I had learned enough (and could look up what I didn't know) to at least read his schedule.

The direct translation was for a "temporary woman" which from what I've found is the Japanese term for a fem sex worker. I've seen some translations for Magi's extra material refer to them as "call girls" so that was the term I chose to use.

The franchise used the word "harem" in a bunch of places, but purposely didn't use it here. That combined with an omake of Sinbad having a nightmare about being married and having a harem made it clear that Sinbad did not have a harem; he had the whole red-light district of his country to choose from.

Hold on... That book wasn't supposed to reach my house until after I had Isekaied so how did I know it's contents? There were barely any scans or photos of pages online-

*Knock knock*

My thoughts

were cut off when breakfast arrived -with more medicine of course.

---

~POV Sinbad~

Nearly a week had passed since King Sinbad had arrived home. There was a lot to catch up on. As much as he wanted to finally relax after everything that happened in Balbadd he didn't really have the time for it. Even after catching up he would still have to prepare for his trip to the Kou Empire. And Ja'far wasn't letting him forget either responsibility.

None of this stopped him from having his slow mornings. He at least gave himself that little slice of heaven.

This was business as usual -at least it was supposed to be- but Sinbad couldn't shake a growing feeling that he couldn't name. It was making him unsettled. The waves didn't give him any answers and drinking hadn't made it go away. It felt similar to missing important.

He wasn't missing any paperwork. There had been an issue with one of their supply ships going missing, and another being delayed, but he had already decided how to proceed. He was definitely interested in the progress the Black Libra Tower was making with testing Mori's theories, but the experiments would take time and they had already scheduled a meeting for an update. The new guests were still settling in. Alibaba was a mess and Aladdin was only marginally better the last time he had visited, but Morgiana was fine and already training with Masrur regularly. According to the doctors reports, Mori would be better in another day or so, and the reports he got from the maids said she was resting every day after giving that partial scroll.

Maybe this was impatience. Aside from his paperwork, everything interesting was either done or waiting for the next step.

Sinbad often walked his country in the evening, but there was no reason he couldn't check on things now. He didn't have time to go for a walk at that moment, but he could spare the magoi needed to use Zepar and fly around the country using the bird he had possessed with the Djinn's power. This wouldn't be the first time he'd done this while working on paperwork.

The bird was sitting on a railing in the city center when Sinbad took over. From this spot he could make some quick rounds in the city and then maybe make a stop in the Black Libra Tower to get a sneak peak at what they had found out so far.

The same old gossip filled most of the streets. Some price complaints, who just had a child, how work was going...

"You're serious? A prophet?”

"My husband saw the scrolls she made from her visions with his own two eyes."

Now that was new gossip.

Sinbad had the bird land near by the two women.

"Oh? What was in them?"

"He said it was like reading secrets of the world."

"Really???"

"Mhmm." She nodded. "Not everyone believes it though so they are all working to test her writing."

"Didn't you just say she was brought in by our King? Do they really think he'd be fooled by some false prophet?"

"I said the same thing! And you know what my husband said? He said that they need to find proof even if they believe the Prophet because otherwise we won't be able to prove it to our allied countries."

"I guess that makes sense..."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Oh! I think I might know what she looks like!”

"What? How? You only learned about her just now."

"When King Sinbad came home, there was a girl on some magical flying cloth, remember? That has to have been the Prophet!"

"I think you're right!"

To two moved on to some other gossip and King had the bird fly towards the Palace. Listening to talk about his Beautiful Prophet reminded him of his mission to peek at what was happening in the Black Libra Tower. Being able to bypass the stairs and the gates made the journey much faster.

The Sun was already in the western side of the sky. Shadows were cast onto the court yard from the Black Libra Tower. The stone of the Green Sagittarius Tower was nearly blinding white from the direct light. Color flashed in the corner of his eye as the bird flew past the upper levels of the guest tower. Before his thoughts had fully registered the familiar shade of nearly black indigo, Sinbad was guiding the bird to investigate. He landed on the railing of one of the windows and looked at the young woman resting against that same window's frame.

Mori looked just as surprised to see a bird land right in front of her as he was to be there. Sinbad had purposely been avoiding using Zepar to spy on Mori since she somehow knew that he had eavesdropped on her before. It had been days since he last saw her, so when she was suddenly an option-

"Heh hehe"

Mori's chuckle and smile took his full attention. He didn't know what had made her laugh, but he hoped she'd do it again.

"Sir, are you aware you are a bird?” After the words passed her lips she was struck by a giggle fit.

Sinbad had no idea what she was thinking or why she had said that to a bird, but he was hearing her voice for the first time in nearly a week so he'd worry about figuring it out later.

When Mori finished laughing at her own joke she leaned her head to the side and watched him. Her hair shifted and another lock spilled over her shoulder. The sight brought attention to the low neckline of the dress she was wearing. If Sinbad was there in person he would have brushed her hair out of the way just to have an excuse to touch her.

"Did you miss me that much?" Her voice was soft and a bit playful. "You didn't have to use Zepar to visit me."

Mori knew it was him! Sinbad jolted and his head hit the back of his chair in his office. How could she tell? Only magicians could see magoi and Rukh to see the spell active on the bird.

"Sin, is something wrong?-” Ja'far had just entered the room to give his afternoon report.

King Sinbad raised a hand for him to be quiet and tapped Zepar's ring to explain the situation. He didn't want to talk and miss something Mori said or did.

The General's expression turned serious and nodded as he went quiet.

When Mori didn't get a response from the bird she added, "Are you surprised that I knew it was you?" Her smile was warm as the sun. "I have read your Fate many times, so I will always recognize you, my King."

Normally, the idea that someone could see through Zepar's magic would concern him, but this didn't. It strengthened his belief that Fate had guided Mori to him.

And the affectionate way she said "my King" at the end made him smile. The waves had moved like this a few times like the last time he had seen her in person, and when he learned she could also feel the waves. The Great Flow of the Rukh was guiding them to the Fate he could see, the one where she lived the rest of her life by his side.

Ja'far sighed. "Just let me know when I can give you my report."

Mori whipped her head towards the door to her room. "They're here early."

There were the sounds of people walking in the hallway, but no voices to denounce who, or their destination. All the same, Mori got up and walked to the door. She opened it before the doctors had a chance to knock.

"How did you...?" One of the doctors asked.

"I recognized the sound of your footsteps," was her answer.

"I see.... And how are you feeling today?"

Mori walked into her room, and spared a glance at the bird still watching her from the window. "I feel fine. Just like yesterday." She turned back towards the door and sat on the edge of her bed. "So can I finally leave this room?"

The doctors were understanding but they still were going to do a full check up first.

Even without the waves it was obvious that Mori was going to be marked as full health. Sinbad would prefer to go see her immediately and give her a tour of the Palace personally, but he was still a King with responsibilities. "Ja'far, Mori has just been declared healthy. What do you think of everyone having dinner together to get everyone better aquatinted?"

"I didn't hear anything about-” Ja'far started and then cut himself when he realized. "Were you just using Zepar to spy on her??"

"Of course not." Sinbad said with all of the confidence of the King he was. "I flew directly to her and she recognized me instantly. I wasn't spying at all."

"She recognized you??" Of course he'd be shocked.

King Sinbad laughed. "She did. Though she was surprised to see me."

"I bet she was surprised to suddenly see a bird in her room. What made you think to use Zepar instead of visiting her in person? You're already getting regular reports on her condition." Ja'far always acted as a buzz kill.

It didn't stop Sinbad from laughing at the situation before finally asking for that report he postponed earlier -conveniently avoiding answering Ja'far's question.

The magician in Mori's room was talking. "Would you be interested in visiting the Black Libra Tower with us? We can show you how the experiments are going. And if possible, would you be willing to answer some questions?"

That was an understandable request, but it could wear her out.

The Prophet was facing away from the windows so Sinbad couldn't see her expression. "I'd really like that actually." But he could hear the excitement growing in her voice.

"Let me get changed real quick." Mori disappeared behind her folding wall and emerged in the outfit he met her in.

Sinbad did not drop control of the bird, but he also didn't follow Mori out of her room. Instead he waited in the window sill until he saw her enter the courtyard and then had the bird fly to the Black Libra Tower.

---

As soon as he finished whatever last minute things Ja'far was about to add to his pile, Sinbad would go to the Black Libra Tower and surprise his Beautiful Prophet in person.

~POV Mori~

In the manga and in the anime the only areas shown of the Black Libra Tower were Yamuraiha's office/lab and one of the libraries. I was more than curious about the rest of the facilities.

The first room seemed to be a reception area and had a map of the tower. I only got to glance at the separations between the libraries, offices and class rooms before a tall and lanky magician walked up to us.

"Is this her??” Her short ponytail bounced as she looked between me and my guides.

Isa, the magician who had been taking care of me the past few days, introduced me. "This is Lady Mori, the Prophet!” He acted like he was showing off the coolest toy on the playground.

The tall woman got right up in my face. "I knew she had to be the Prophet! The Rukh don't normally move this way around people."

Before I got to respond she started rambling comments and questions that covered everything in maroon and peacock blue getting sponged across a cream canvas. I stepped back and Isa cut her off. "Lady Mori will be answering everyone's questions in time. We were just on our way to see Yamuraiha so I can show her how everything has been coming along. You are welcome to join us."

She definitely joined us. As did many others who spotted us or were called over by others in our procession.

We walked through a few library areas, and up a few flights of stairs. As we passed various rooms and areas I was told what or who would be inside, but I wouldn't remember any of the specifics until I had a chance to use the space and explore on my own. What did stick was that most of the classrooms were next to the libraries and the labs were near the offices.

Yamuraiha must have heard our group from down the hall because her head popped out from one of the rooms ahead of us. "What is going on out here??” Then she made eye contact with me. "It's you!!"

That made me smile. I fought back responding 'it's me!' like I would with my friends. "I'm Mori. I'm glad I'm finally getting the chance to meet you, Yamuraiha!” I stopped walking when I got 3 yards/meters away.

She immediately pulled her staff against her chest with both hands. Her shoulders tensed but she had an enthusiastic smile. "The pleasure is all mine!"

Yamuraiha was amazing, smart, and endearing. I really wanted to be friends with her.

I out stretched my hand to shake hers. "I'm really excited to work with you, and learn more about magic even though I'm not a magician."

"The feeling is mutual!” She took my hand more than matching my excitement. And when she released it said, "Since you're here, would you like to see what we've been working on from the scrolls you gave us?"

"Yes please!”

---

The lab she lead us to was a little down the hall. All of my scrolls were spread out on one table and a bunch of notes and different materials were on an other.

Yamuraiha pulled out parchment that had a complicated magic circle written on it. "We can't do much yet, and it still takes a catalyst and many magicians at once to control the amount of magoi safely but our alchemy magic has made a breakthrough from your writing."

She asked a few of the magicians that came with me to join her. They pointed their staffs and wands at the magic cycle. A large crystal in the room started glowing, and the Rukh lit up the space from within the circle. Specks were pulled out of the pile of ingredients nearby -dirt, scraps paper, a small potted plant- and gathered at the center of the circle. The light got too bright for me to look straight at it and when it faded there was a small dark grey cube in the middle of the circle. It looked like a die with no markings.

Yam explained. "After reading about 'atoms' and 'bonds' in your scrolls it was like finding the missing piece. It will still be a long time before we can perfect the process, and we still can't make anything bigger than this yet, but soon we will be able to make anything we want!"

((In the future I intend to: reference more old memes, describe more of my experience with synesthesia, and explain more basic history and science. SO you all have been warned lol))

I had to respond; I couldn't just continue staring in awe. When I tried to answer I ended up gasping since had forgotten to breathe. I chuckled at my own shock as well as the situation. I looked up at them. "You're all amazing to be able to develop this already from the little I wrote!" I looked back at the stone. "I knew I wrote the keys to Yunan's signature alchemy magic in those scrolls, but to think you've already gotten this far with it -its amazing."

With this -when developed farther- we could make certain materials without having to worry about the pollution, and break things down easily so we won't have to worry about garbage piling up everywhere.

"Did you say Yunan? The Magi, Yunan?" Yamuraiha looked at me with wide eyes.

"Yes." It was my turn to explain. "Yunan is able to use alchemy magic like this on a grand scale. In the Fates I read he will have reason to visit Sindria in about 2 years. He creates a cabin and food in the middle of the Palace court yard so he has somewhere comfortable to stay."

The bird in the window ruffled it's feathers.

"Yunan explains the basic concept of how that magic works when asked, and since I know the science of the physical world I know the details to what he was talking about." My smile widened. "I hope my notes were easy to understand. Please let me know if you have any questions."

#magi prophet fanfic #magi fanfiction #magi fanfic #sinbad magi #king sinbad #magi sinbad #sinbadxoc

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7soulstars · 4 years

Note

Hello :) I hope it's okay to send a request (if not, then I'm sorry about it ) So maybe where Bucky lives on Clint's farm to get away from everything but then there comes this woman, Clints best friend besides Nat and he immediately wants to know her better.. after a while they get really close and develope feelings for each other but dont talk about it. So one night, she stays over and needs to share a room with Buck, things get heated and passionate between them ? :) then it's all cuddly? ❤️

Hey darling! Thank you so much for requesting! I am so sorry it took me so long! I blame it on my lazy ass and also on the many pending requests. Thank you so much for being this patient with me! I really hope you like this one!

Мой целитель

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Broken Bonky Babie, Avengers are teasing little shits, Steve leaves like in the movies and doesn’t come back (I want to kill him for that), Fluff, Shy Bonky and Y/N, Liddle angst, Both idiots doubt themselves, Y/N likes beating the fuck out of bullies a.k.a Violence, steamy stuff but not smut ( cuz I don’t write smut”

Summary: Someone managed to make Bucky accept the fact that everyone can heal.

..............

Мой целитель ; (pronounced: Moy tselitel') Russian for My Healer

War never ends. It just rests. One day someone will come to ask your help that is when the rest of war is over again.

That is what Bucky has always been of the belief ever since before and after endgame. Ever since Steve left, most of Bucky did too. Yes, he had Sam and the others but Steve was the only part of his original past left and he couldn’t even stop him.

He decided that the rest period for his war conflicted heart had started when Clint had offered him a place to live at his farmhouse to ‘heal and stay away from the space bullshit’.

Not to brag but he had fit right into the little family. The kids loved Uncle Bucky and Laura appreciated the extra help she got with the house. Sam and Natasha would come by every two days and the rest every once a week. They would go visit a bar and hang out. That was Bucky’s life now. That was his routine.

Clint had sudddenly announced one fine weekly team hangout day that his long time best friend would be joining them. Bucky couldn’t care less. He had seen people come in and out of the Barton house all the time. Most sending him glares due to his past. He couldn’t blame them. Not when he knew he would do the same in different set of circumstances.

But he was proved wrong. Y/N was an angel. More so to him. Not a single glare was directed at him by her the entire time. She just smiled sweetly. Maybe he did care a little bit.

Y/N turned out to be Lila and Cooper, Clint’s first two children’s godmother. She had finally come home after 15 years of being in and out of the country for her job. Clint had mentioned that every time she came back she would first visit the kids not forgetting to bring them gifts from everywhere and how the snap had worried her. So Bucky was not surprised when he had to get three kids off of her as she entered the house. His heart swelled when she said ‘Thank You’, although everyone said that.

He was unusually getting attached to her and that scared him.

After Steve attatchment was difficult. Trust was difficult. But Y/N made it seem like child's play. She somehow completely saw through him. Almost as if she knew everything about him and he was confused by that.

Especially at those little moments when he felt hesitant.

Bucky was a handsome man no doubt and that meant some women were confident enough to ask hit on him everytime he was out at a restaurant or a bar with the others. Y/N would join them quite often and on one such day she saved Bucky from his anxiety issues.

"Hey.....you come here quite often.....can I buy you a drink ?", a very confident girl had managed to come up to the table and asked Bucky who looked at her with eyes as blown out as big as saucers and immediately looked down stuttering as he tried to politely reject the lady. A hand carefully wrapped around his metal arm as he realized Y/N had said "I'm sorry he's taken", before sending the girl as kind smile which had lead to Bucky's hair-hidden neck to go red.

Bucky had excused himself to the washroomas the rest relentlessly teased his popularity but he had not noticed Y/N following suit.

"I'm sorry", she had apologised leaving the other puzzled again. "W-why?" "I should have asked before touching you....I know-I know you don't like being touched....I'm sorry". There was pure sincerity in her voice "NO!",his own voice startled him and her as she looked at him in confusion. "I-I mean I'm glad....You helped me out there......Also.....",there was hesitation in Bucky's heart, "Also....I don't mind if you touch me Y/N".

That day onwards something changed. Significantly so, Bucky found himself calling and hanging out with Y/N more. She filled his thoughts would be one way of saying that and the Avengers noticed. So the next time Bucky tried to sneak out of the farm when the others were there Sam noticed, “Hey Hey Hey ! Where are you sneakin to ?”. The other stood frozen like a deer in the headlights staring down at his best friend like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. Nat smirked as she bit on her grilled cheese sandwich sing songing, “He’s going to meet Y/N~~”Bucky grumbled a little ‘Shut up Nat’ before taking the car out towards the bar.

“Buck !”, she had yelled waving as he smiled and pulled her into his arms for a hug and staying like that for a few minutes both eventually hesitantly letting go. Joe the bartender already having set up their regular drinks showed how often they frequented the place, even having seats that were almost always empty for just the two of them.

After meeting Y/N, Bucky realised new things about himself. He liked sweet stuff more than savoury. He liked playing games at the arcade. He was definately much more open to technology than Steve ever was. He liked being spoiled and babied. And he was extremely serious about board games. He knew all this because Y/N made him realize that.

That day he found out another thing. He likes staring at Y/N looking at the sunset. In other words he likes Y/N. But he had promised himself to not act on it. He didn’t want to loose her. Not now, not ever.

Walking through a dark alley way was not something Bucky liked but with Y/N it was something he was starting to hate. Y/N is beautiful. Obliviously so. He could sense sleazy men staring at her but chose to stay put. But we all know that rouse wasn’t going to stay put for long considering a group of 3 men surrounding the two of them all eyeing Y/N. “Hey sweetheart why don’t you come with us ? We counld have a darn sweet night”, exclaimed the one that looked like the leader as the other two laughed behind him. “Back off”, Bucky had warned. He didn’t want to fight. He felt like he’d embarrass himself before Y/N. “Ohhh look who it is The Winter Soldier”, the other said mockingly. “What are you going to do? Kill me? You don’t have Captain America now to back you up do you ?”. Before Bucky could even reply the third guy let out a scream at which everyone turned to look at him to see him cradling what seemed like a freshly broken wrist and before he could even react the second one went flying into a pile of trash (where he belongs) and the main commentator’s head was being bashed strait onto the road by Y/N’s hand. “No, but he does does have an ex-black ops now turned into a CIA Agent to back him up”, she quipped seethingly through her teeth.

Bucky said nothing. His brain was still processing the information he was bombarded with. He walked Y/N to her car and drove back to Clint’s all while still processing.

So when Sam (who was just about to leave) asks “How was it ?” Bucky looks him in the eye and goes.

“I’m in love with Y/N.”

Tony had decided to prank Clint one fine day and told everyone that Clint was hosting a sleepover. So that meant Clint had to accomodated several idiots into his farmhouse. Within this chaos he also had a very great idea.

So when Y/N was pushed into Bucky’s room both stopped functioning.

Y/N spotted him angrily whispering into is phone as she got out of the shower. Throwing his phone into oblivion ,startled, when she called name out suddenly. “Y-You’re done ? Uhhhh you can take the bed doll, I’ll take the floor”,Bucky hates the floor but if it meant Y/N would be comfortable, he’d be ready to sleep on a block of ice. “Nope definately not ! We can share the damn bed Buck the floor uncomfortable !”, she argued. “ No Y/N you don’t understand I can’t !” “WHY! IS IT BECAUSE I MADE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE AFTER THAT DAY ?”, there was a grave silence between the two. He knew exactly what she was talking about. Bucky’s eyes soften and for the first time he realizes that he had never thaken the effort to know more about Y/N. He was focused on her helping him find himself. “Why would you say that ?” ,he said softly as he moved towards her and she moved backwards. “Because it is what it is isn’t it?”, she retorted. “NO IT IS NOT !”, Bucky sighed as he sat on the bed and watched the woman of importance as she paced around the room. “Why then Bucky ? You’ve been distant from me since that day....” “You won’t understand.....” “Try me” “I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU OKAY !”

12 minutes. It had been 12 minutes since Y/N had froze and stared at Bucky.

“Shut up. You’re lying” , she finally said.

“What ? No ! Why would I lie about that”,Bucky argued

“Because ! You are James Buchanan Barnes ! One of the most attractive men I have seen in my life period.”

“And here I’m the one firmly believing someone like me doesn’t even stand a change with someone as pretty as you.”

“See, you’re lying again”

“Doll, shut up before I will have to make you”, he warned

“Don’t make empty threats that you won’t fulfill James”, she challenged.

And with that Bucky has Y/N slammed into the bed , his mouth moving roughly along her’s as she puts her arms around his. There was something different about this Bucky. Y/N felt every single pent up frustration that the man kissing her had felt supressing his feelings had felt.

Soon enough they seperated, finally gasping for air. Bucky plopped beside Y/N as she placed her palm on his cheek rubbing a thumb over it while smiling at him blissfully.

“Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you”

“I love you...”, she said and somehow Bucky knew he had tears running down his cheeks. He curled into her arms. Clint’s loud speakers playing Elvis as the two dozed off to sleep. But Bucky waited for her to doze off, kissing her forehead as he ran his metal arm through her hair.

“Мой целитель, I love you too”, he said.

He wasn’t alone anymore. He was healed. His internal war had ended forever. That’s all he ever wanted. That’s all he was thankful for.

---The End---

Guess who almost cried writing this fic? That’s right! ME. Now I need myself a Bucky to hug. I really hope you liked this fic and I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH ON HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOU BEING SO PATIENT WITH ME! Please like, share, comment and reblog if you like my work to support me ! Please do not plagarise my hard work and thank you so much for reading!

~Love, Hri

#ask hri #ask response #ask reply #james bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #avengers x reader #ask me anything #SEND REQUESTS #send me asks #send asks

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chimchimsauce · 4 years

Text

XS (VII - Brick)

“Give me just a little bit MORE”

Being the son of the largest gang in the country, Kim Taehyung might as well be a prince. He is more powerful than any one man should be and is not afraid to get rid of anything - or anyone that gets in his way.

So when a man is unable to pay back the gigantic loan he owes Taehyung, the heir is all too happy to take his life. Moments away from pulling the trigger, a girl more beautiful than he’s ever seen bursts in and offers her life for her father’s. Taehyung knows right away that he wants her.

And Taehyung gets everything he wants.

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Taehyung rides with YN to the reception hall, Jungkook now sitting up front next to the driver. YN stares out of the window, pretending that she cannot see Taehyung's gaze in the glass's reflection.

She wishes the weather would reflect her mood. The day is bright and sunny, not a storm cloud in sight. The people they drive past look are smiling, laughing without a care as they go about their everyday lives, smiling and being happy. What YN wouldn't do for the chance at that simple life again.

Of course, the drive to the reception is not long at all. Taehyung slides out of the vehicle, taking quick strides to go around the back of the car and open YN's door for her. He offers her his hand and she takes it, uttering a small "Thank you." He does not let her go as they waltz into the reception hall, a beautiful old building with exposed brick and lots of pretty greenery. It's someplace YN would have dreamed about visiting, a venue she would have picked herself.

Her new husband releases her once they're safely inside in one of the small back rooms the venue has.

"You've been doing so well," Taehyung says, his hand heavy on her bare shoulder, "I am so proud of you, darling."

"Thank you," YN says again robotically.

Taehyung hums contentedly, his long fingers tapping down her sides before landing on the zipper that closes her dress. YN freezes.

Is he going to make a move now? With people on their way here as they speak?

"Taehyung," YN breathes out.

He mobster quite likes the sound of his name coming from her throat. He'll be sure to wrangle it out of her a thousand times before the night is over.

"Yes, darling," Taehyung answers, pulling the zipper down.

"Are you . . . we're not . . ." YN can't form full sentences, petrified.

Taehyung places a kiss on his wife's neck, loving the way she trembles.

"So eager," he whispers, lips brushing against her skin, "Later, darling. We go have guests to entertain."

A knock on the door shatters the intensity in the room. The relief YN feels is immense.

"Yes?" Taehyung asks, his annoyance obvious.

He hadn't been planning on taking YN here, but she placed the thought in his head and now his head is filled with ideas of pinning her against the wall, the brick digging into her back and leaving bloody scrapes. It sounds like such a wonderful experience, but now someone has shattered it.

The door swings open and in waltzes Yoonji, still dressed in her usual uniform. Her face is blank, taking in the scene with no interest.

"You wanted me to prepare YN for the reception," she says breezily, addressing Taehyung only and pretending that YN isn't even there.

"Right," Taehyung says, running his hands through his hair.

YN can't help but look at his golden wedding ring.

"Make sure Miss Kim looks beautiful," Taehyung says, moving to leave, "Even though it's impossible for her not to."

YN has never wished to be unattractive until this moment. If she was ugly, this wouldn't be happening. But then again, if Taehyung hadn't been interested in her, he would have killed her and her parents on the spot.

When the door shuts, YN is alone with Yoonji. She smiles at the other women but Yoonji doesn't return it, silently moving about the room. In the corner, there is a clothing rack with a garment bag hanging on it. Yoonji unzips it and pulls out a floofy white dress, one that should stop around YN's knees. She finishes unzipping YN's wedding dress, ridding her of it. YN is glad; That thing weighs like forty pounds.

YN stands there in her lingerie, Yoonji's eyes raking up and down her figure before she turns away, muttering something under her breath. YN peeks down at herself. Is something wrong with her body?

"Is everything alright?" YN asks Yoonji, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Just fine," Yoonji says curtly, bending down to allow YN to step into the new dress.

Yoonji jerks the fabric up too quickly and YN trips, almost falling to the ground.

"Hey!" she shouts.

Yoonji ignores her, pulling the princess sleeves over YN's shoulders and zipping her up. Se guides the bride over to the small vanity, unboxing the awaiting makeup kit. Yoonji quickly touches up YN's makeup, ridding YN of the evidence of her first kiss with Taehyung. YN is happy to have her smudged lipstick wiped away and replaced. If only she could do it with the skin that monster touched.

Yoonji rids YN of her veil and weaves flowers and gold into her hair, finishing her work. It took her just over twenty minutes to complete before another knock sounds on the door. It's Taehyung. He barges in without waiting for an answer.

"Is she ready yet?"

"Yes, sir," Yoonji says, stepping out of the way and disappearing down the hallway.

Taehyung extends his hands to hers, raising her hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of it. Disgust washes over YN but she ignores it, knowing better than to pull away from him.

"I have some very important people I want you to meet, darling," he says to her as they walk into the main room.

People mingle amongst themselves, looking up when the new Mr. and Mrs. Kim enter the room. They're swarmed almost immediately, random people coming up to them to wish them well and get Taehyung's attention. YN is reminded of just how powerful the man she was forced to marry is by the way people are eager to get into his good graces.

YN's face hurts from all the smiling she has to do, greeting people she knows could kill her in a matter of seconds. It pains her that she sticks so close to Taehyung. Better the monster you know that the one you don't.

Every so often, YN will allow her gaze to wander, looking over those people who have yet to congratulate them. In the very corner, YN spots her own parents, locking eyes with her mother. Her mom is doing her best to not look terrified, but fear rolls off of her in waves. YN wants nothing more than to run over there and feel her loving embrace, pulling her close and breathing in the scent that has comforted her ever since she was small.

Her parents may not have had much, but they were abundant in love, making sure YN always felt safe and happy in her home. The memories of her childhood suddenly feel eons away, almost as if she had never lived them at all. Was it even her who was comforted after a hard day at school? Was it even her who crawled into her parents' bed when thunder struck? YN's mother sends her a shaky smile. YN has never seen her mother look so weak.

"Why don't we go say 'Hi', darling?" Taehyung asks her suddenly, whisking her away from the crowd of gangsters before she can even protest.

YN doesn't trust Taehyung as far as she can throw him. The less often he's around her parents, the better.

"Hello, Mother," Taehyung says brightly to YN's mom, much too happy for their circumstances, "Doesn't YN look beautiful?"

"She does," her mother says, voice barely above a whisper.

She reaches for YN but Taehyung pulls her away, his grasp too tight on her waist.

"Excuse me for being a little . . . possessive . . ." Taehyung says, "I don't want anyone to accidentally ruin my beautiful bride's dress. Well, except for me."

He laughs wholeheartedly and YN and her mother are forced to join in, both of them hiding their disgust.

YN's father appears by his wife's side, a flute of champagne in his hands. He's squeezing the glass so tightly YN is worried that it'll shatter.

"You -" YN's father begins, only to be cut off by YN in a panic.

"Daddy -" she says, aware of Taehyung's heated stare, "Why don't you take Mama and go dancing? I know you love to dance."

YN chuckles awkwardly at her lie, relieved when her father nods wordlessly and sweeps his wife away to the dance floor.

"It's about time to have our first dance," Taehyung remarks, whirling YN into the center of the room.

As if someone had been waiting for this moment, a spotlight beams down on them and music begins to play. All eyes are on them. YN has never even attempted to learn ballroom dancing but she's too afraid to say something now.

She follows Taehyung's footsteps as best she can, studying his feet and careful to not step on him.

"Look at me," he commands and she does, gasping a bit when she sees how intensely he's staring her down, "You are so beautiful . . . so sweet. And you're all mine."

Taehyung spins YN and she falls into him, her hands splayed out on his chest.

"Say it," Taehyung demands, wrapping his arms around her waist and turning around himself.

YN is sure this isn't the proper form but all she can focus on is the feel of him under his thin shirt, lean and strong. In some ways, Taehyung being a handsome man feels like a punishment within itself. But she supposes she shouldn't be surprised. The Devil was the most handsome angel of all.

"Say what?" YN asks as he dips her low to the ground, his large hand on her thigh.

Her cheeks flush red when he toys with the little lace garter she was forced to wear.

"Say that you're mine."

"I'm yours," YN says.

She has never hated herself so much.

"Good girl," he whispers in her ear, biting her once more.

Something tells her that he gets his kicks from causing pain.

The music ends with a flourish, Taehyung bowing to YN and kissing her on her cut up palms.

For the rest of the evening, Taehyung allows YN to roam about while he speaks business with whoever he needs to speak business with. Her parents have disappeared and YN prays it's because they were asked to leave since Taaehyung had gotten his fill of rubbing it into their faces.

Every entry is guarded by big men with even bigger guns, so any chance of escape (or even a moment alone) is thwarted. With nothing other to do and a growing fear of what will come after, YN turns to the seemingly endless supply of alcohol. She has never been a big drinker but right now she's chasing a blackout, wanting to remember as little of this day as possible.

"Maybe you should slow down," a voice says.

YN turns and sees a vaguely familiar man.

"Who are you?" she asks him.

So far, no one has been brave enough to approach her, no doubt afraid of gaining Taehyung's wrath. This man, however, seems relaxed, completely at ease.

"I'm Jimin," he says, "We've met a few times before, but haven't been formally introduced. I'm Taehyung's - and now yours - driver."

"Ooooh," YN says, her words slurring just a touch.

"I knew I knew you from . . . somewhere," she says, placing a hand on her hip.

"You should probably stop drinking," he says, moving to take the flute away from her.

YN steps back, jerking her glass and spilling a bit. It burns in her cuts and she whimpers, still refusing to let go of it.

"I can still remember. I don't want to remember today."

"Well we can't be having that," a new voice - Taehyung - calls out.

YN's blood runs cold as he yanks the glass away from her and shoves it into Jimin's awaiting hands. She can tell that he's angry and it's paralyzing.

"The Mrs. and I will be heading out now," Taehyung announces to the crowd, "It was a pleasure having you all here. Thanks so much for coming."

He guides the stumbling YN out of the venue, Jimin hot on their heels. In the back of the car, Taehyung hands YN a water bottle, forcing her to drink all of it.

"You shouldn't have done that," he says, glaring at her, "I'll make sure you remember every second of this day."

Chapter Eight

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Tag List

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@dorerenjun @veronawrites @nervouskiwi @tatastaetae @naaji @sunshinechim-98 @hopefilledtrash @heystobitbeach @queensavage1245 @kofikats @lilacdreams-00

#yandere bts #yandere x reader #yandere taehyung #bts angst #bts gang au #bts mafia au #yandere #taehyung x reader

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tealin · 4 years

Text

Cape Crozier: The Spiritual Journey

As usual, please check out http://twirlynoodle.com/blog to see this post and others in their original (functioning) formatting.

Since getting seriously into polar history, I kept hearing the same two things from polar veterans. One was that I could not possibly understand the story properly, or be able to depict it truthfully, unless I visited Antarctica myself. The other was that Antarctica changes people. This was unanimous amongst scientists, historians, and even tourists: one cannot help but be profoundly affected by contact with Antarctica; that is just a fact of the place.

I have certainly been changed by Antarctica indirectly. The inner kernel of “me” is the same in my earliest memories as now, but the Terra Nova men and their experiences have fundamentally shifted how that kernel views and relates to the world and the people around me. I am a vastly better person for their influence, and that is a large part of why I have been so dogged in getting their story to a new audience: the hope that, through my work, even one other person might be changed in the same way.

When I finally got the chance to visit Antarctica in person, I had half an eye out for signs something had happened. Two weeks into my visit, I had learned a lot and had some meaningful experiences, but I couldn't say I had changed at all. Maybe that initial action-at-a-distance was the change I had been promised after all.

Then I went to Cape Crozier.

As we have spread around the planet, humans have noted certain places as being special in some way, places of some sort of power, or where the spirit world is a little more tangible. The Celts called these 'thin places', where the fabric of reality is threadbare, and Something Else comes a little closer. One can have a 'thin' experience anywhere, but certain places seem to encourage them. They may remain completely unmarked, or may become loci for centuries of pilgrimage, or anything in between, but they exist in some form in every culture except, perhaps, the post-Enlightenment intellectual West.

Antarctica, generally, feels like where the edge of a painting dissolves into brushstrokes. There is a certain unreality baked-in: the sun wheels around the sky without setting, one can count on one hand the species of life regularly seen, and everything – the landscape, the weather, the distances – is so vastly out of proportion to puny humanity. One could argue that this 'unfinished' feeling is because so much of it is white, but I have travelled through many snow-covered landscapes, and they feel like landscapes covered in snow, not fundamentally blank places with a few suggestive details dropped in by an artist whose main attention was elsewhere.

Cape Crozier was something else entirely, though. It is, of course, hanging off the edge of Ross Island, but it felt more like it was hanging off the edge of reality itself. It is a thin place par excellence. And I had an experience there which I have been trying to process since landing back at McMurdo. When I tried to discuss it with friends, my ability to speak quite simply stopped. Then the pandemic, and the new house, and pushing through Vol.1, all rose up and drove it to the back of my mind. In February I wasn't ready to talk about it; here in October, I worry it's too late. But I feel compelled to share what happened there, and if I don't do it now, I don't know if I ever will.

If this were a novel, at Cape Crozier I would have felt the thinness of time, and a closer connection to the dead men I had followed there – perhaps almost to believe they weren't dead at all! In such a place, that didn't seem impossible. But that is not what happened. Nor did I have some sort of enlightenment beamed into my head from the heavens. Even the word 'happened' is too suggestive of some sort of discrete external event. If you had asked me, there, at the time, I'd have said I was just sitting there thinking. But I sit thinking a lot in life, and this was not the sort of thinking I am used to. It was more like a revelation. Not in the trumpets and angels sense, but in a literal one: layers of clutter and gloss were pulled back to reveal a simple underlying truth. It was, in essence, a dose of perspective, a view from high and far enough away to see the big picture, and not the surface detail. As I sat at the base of a boulder, gazing at the stone igloo and gawking at how completely insane were the men who dragged their sledges to this desolate nowhere to build it, I suddenly saw my life as it appeared in the Author's notes.

Ever since first getting the inkling that this story would make a good graphic novel, it has felt like a calling. I said 'no' to the calling for years – some sort of cosmic wrong number – but when I finally said 'yes' everything started falling into place. That is supposed to be a good sign, for a calling. And I was happy following it, though it wasn't easy or comfortable. As far as I could deduce, under my own power, it seemed like what I ought to be doing. That is not to say there weren't doubts, especially in the grey light of a winter morning when I would lie in my rented bed, looking at my desk and wondering what on earth I was doing with my life. And I was not untroubled by other concerns: Shouldn't I be more helpful to my family? Why have I been persistently unable to find a tribe, or a relationship? Will I be allowed to stay in the UK? Can I do this work and keep myself fed and housed?

Here, on a wind-scoured ridge on the edge of nowhere, reflecting on its history of unbelievable and, it could be argued, pointless hardship, one might expect to realise the folly of one's ways, and to swear off quixotic enterprises in favour of the hitherto unappreciated quotidian stuff that really matters. But that is not what happened. Instead, I got this dose of clarity:

I am here to tell this story. Not here, at Cape Crozier, in this instant (although that too), but here, on this planet, as a human being. This is what I am for.

Whatever I need to make it happen will be provided. No less, and no more.

Everything else? Tangential. Not worth worrying about. What needs to happen, will happen, and if it doesn't happen, it didn't need to. And that's OK.

All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.

When I was young, we had a puzzle of the United States of America. It was made of Masonite, and the pieces were cut out in the shapes of the states, which would be assembled to fill the recessed outline of the country. Because they were geographical shapes and not interlocking jigsaw pieces, they would slide and rattle around until the last one got wedged in and locked everything else in place.

Most of my life, I have felt like that rattly puzzle. I didn't realise it because I had never known there was another way to be. But there under the boulder it felt like that last piece had been dropped in, that secured all the loose ones. It was not that Cape Crozier was my missing piece and now that I had it I was complete – that is far too literal. The missing piece was a something that wasn't even a thing; rather, in that moment of clarity, I felt all the jangling bits come to rest, and a wholly unfamiliar solidity. At last the clay wobbling around the potter's wheel had been centred, and I felt a metaphysical ground beneath my metaphysical feet that I had not known it was possible to feel.

Ironically, the rest of the day I felt like I wasn't touching the actual ground at all, perhaps because what I was anchored to was on another plane entirely. The stumbling shamble through the wind back to the helicopter might as well have been happening to someone else. We took off into the gale, and though the pilot acted as though it was perfectly ordinary, when we were rounding the ridge he said 'wow, that's the rotor all the way to the left' which I didn't understand but didn't sound great. Nevertheless the sense of peace persisted, and I understood how, in his last letter to his wife, which he knew would be his last, Wilson could have kept insisting 'all is well.' (I knew why he wrote that: he had read Julian of Norwich. But now I understood why.)

The journey back was a transcendence all of its own, the beauty of which seemed to be a perfectly natural outward manifestation of that altered state. We touched down in time for me to make it to the Galley just as it opened for dinner, so we couldn't have been gone two whole hours, and that seemed absurd to me – surely I had sat under that boulder for two hours at least? Or had we only been at the igloo ten minutes? It was impossible to tell.

What I wanted more than anything was to go up a mountain and ponder the whole thing, alone, until it sorted itself out and I was ready to come back down again. I could have gone up Observation Hill, but the weather looked liable to turn into a proper blizzard at any moment. So, lacking a better option, I went to go eat, and, after having a chuckle at the Cherry Turnovers, slunk to the back where I could usually count on having a small wallflower table to myself, especially this early. But one of the larger tables was full of young dudes talking about bar fights they'd been involved in, and I just … couldn't. So I wandered into the main area and discovered the One Strange Rock crew having an early dinner as well, begged a spot at their table, and ate swaddled in friendly natter instead of at one with the universe in a blizzard. It amounted to much the same thing.

Eventually one of them said, 'You went to Cape Crozier today, didn't you? How was that?'

I made an exploding gesture around my head and said 'Pkhhhh.'

Cherry wrote that the Winter Journey 'had beggared our language'. I am sure that my inarticulate gesture is not what he meant. But at the same time, in fact at that very dinner, I realised something about his writing. The Winter Journey chapter is unanimously regarded as the finest part of The Worst Journey in the World. Some people question that this otherwise unremarkable country gent, who never produced another book, could have written with such profound and expressive talent, and they posit that his friend and neighbour George Bernard Shaw, who definitely did consult on the book, must have ghostwritten it. I have read enough of Cherry's writing – in his own hand – to know this is bosh; the voice and the style are distinctly his. What's more, I was surprised to discover, when going through his journals, that a large portion of the Winter Journey chapter was not written last, despite it being the last to join the manuscript of Worst Journey, but was in fact written in his bunk at Cape Evans while he was recuperating from the experience. In the published book, he singles out some passages as being from 'my own diary' but great tracts of unattributed narration are more or less verbatim quotations as well. The experience related therein feels so immediate because it was.

The rest of Worst Journey, while perfectly readable, is largely a narrative rewrite of Cherry's and others' diaries. Sometimes he lets others carry the story for pages at a time. His writing is undeniably good, but is often simply mortar, filling gaps and binding sources together to tell a history that no human invention could better. The Winter Journey chapter, on the other hand, reads like a torrent of pure inspiration pouring through him onto the page. That such vivid, timeless prose should have come from an exhausted 25-year-old in his bunk in a wooden hut is no less remarkable than from a jaded 35-year-old in the library of his country house.

Artists of all stripes will often say that their best work is not their own creation, but feels like it already existed and came through them from somewhere else. It's as if there's a great Beyond where things that need to come into the world – stories, images, performances – queue up for passage through artists' minds and bodies. Sometimes one taps into it by luck; usually it's a combination of training and discipline that makes the link traversable, from time to time. Perhaps artists' minds are their own thin places, in a way. Sitting there at dinner with my friends, I felt as though I'd brushed against the fabric between this reality and that Beyond, and, like touching the wall of a tent in a rainstorm, broken the surface tension and allowed something through. I felt like, if I just put pencil to paper, something could flow through me, if only I could narrow down a subject. With the intensity of his experience, Cherry did not so much brush against the wet tent fabric as punch a hole through it; feeling just a small inkling of that myself, it was no wonder that the creative energy poured into his diary with such intuitive eloquence.

Had I sat down to write this that night, perhaps I could have tapped into that flow, but I didn't feel I was ready. I can guarantee you that right now I am not tapped into anything but a vague and dwindling recollection. As vast as the experience was, by putting a box of words around it, I cannot help but reduce it to the confines of the box. But that is the best I can do under my own power.

Compared to the seismic transformation of character brought about by my first vicarious encounter with Antarctica, the insight at Cape Crozier was very small and personal, but once in place, the ramifications have been substantial. When I arrived back home, just before Christmas, the world was still as it ever was, but I was different, and I noticed how differently I related to everything. Things I loved about Cambridge, which previously made me desperate to stay, I appreciated no less, but valued instead as something I had the honour to enjoy for a while, and didn't need to hold on to. A young-adults group which I'd hung around, formerly a precious simulacrum of a social life, now felt hollow, and I abandoned it in favour of time spent one-on-one with the handful of people who I really appreciated. They all said I seemed different; one person said I seemed 'sad', but I think I had just taken the mask off the seriousness which tends to frighten people. I have never been afraid to be myself, but in recent years have tried to mitigate that self in relation to others; there seemed no point to that, now. It was as if my inner gyroscope had finally started spinning, and I had a sense of balance and orientation that I hadn't before.

Holding on to the clarity of that moment, and the centredness it brought me, has not been easy. It didn't keep me from panicking when my housemate excoriated me back in March. It didn't focus my mind on my work as soon as I'd moved into the new place, or save me from getting angry and frustrated when battling my tax returns. Sometimes it's very hard to remember at all. But I know what happened, and I can remember remembering, even if I can't recapture the feeling itself. Sometimes, when it's very windy, I seek out a high open place in the hope of feeling it again, but it hasn't worked. Maybe it doesn't need to. Having it once was all I really needed, and even if I succeeded in flicking those switches again, what good would it do that hasn't already been done?

I could not foresee, on that windswept ridge on the edge of reality, where the world would be in 2020. In wry moments I think I was only a few months ahead of a large portion of humanity, who have been forced to sort things out when the pandemic stripped away their preoccupations and illusions. Maybe you are one of them, and you recognise some of what I've described. Maybe you feel like you've been running away from it. Maybe you have been running towards it but have been unable to find it. All I can tell you is: it's worth the seeking.

I wish everyone in the world could visit Antarctica, even just once, and see how it changes them. The world would be such a better place. I am so profoundly grateful that I had the chance, and am determined to pay it forward by bringing some shred of that experience to as many people as possible. If my communication fails to bridge that gap for you, then take it upon yourself to find your own thin place. They are all around. It only requires that you be receptive, and undertake to look.

#antarctica #travel #spirituality #purpose #mountaintop moment #cape crozier #epiphany

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xjoonchildx · 4 years

Text

airplane, pt. 2 | jjk x reader chapter three: koreatown

pairing: jungkook/reader

word count: 3.4K rating: 18+

genre: smut | silly smut | nonsensical smut

warnings: criminal!jungkook, koreanamerican!jungkook, reality has left the chat, plausibility has left the chat

A/N: so...as i’m turning this PWP into a P “with” P i actually had to add some plot lol. i really hope you guys like the direction this story is taking and i’m starting to feel a bit more confident about how it’s going to end. but please let me know what you think, hearing from you guys makes my day. i’d love to know if you think the plot is making any sense. i mean, as much sense as a story about jungkook as a super hot criminal robber on the run with a federal agent lover could possibly make, ya know?

xoxo

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

artwork by the shmexy @ppersonna who’s smut is even better than her art

***********************

A postcard comes in the mail seven weeks after San Juan.

Colorful block letters urge you to VISIT BELIZE over decorative shots of the country’s beautiful beaches and most visited spots.

The only thing that appears to be written on the card is your address. You examine it dozens of times, looking from front to back for any other marking. You come up empty.

There is one unusual thing you notice, though.

The postmark.

Clearly written at the top: Los Angeles 90005.

There’s no way this card was mailed out of Belize and there’s very little chance Jungkook managed to get back inside the country without setting off a thousand alerts on your phone.

You assume he must have routed it through his parents.

You’ve tried so damned hard these past few weeks not to think about what happened in Puerto Rico. You’ve tried to forget the full-body shock you experienced when he asked you to play along with his absurd fantasy. You tell yourself there’s no way he could possibly believe that you would go on the run with him.

But then you remember the look on his face.

Seeing this postcard -- holding it in your hands -- makes San Juan real again. It’s not some bizarre fever dream you had or some figment of your imagination. The emotions it dredges up are uncomfortable to confront.

Is he in trouble? Is he asking for help? What are you supposed to do with this?

Logically, you know there’s nothing you can do.

So you slip the card into your bedside drawer and file the information away in that part of your brain that seems to now be dedicated to thinking about Jungkook Jeon full-time.

************************

Over the next few weeks, two more cards arrive.

Guatemala.

Honduras.

That fake passport Jungkook apparently managed to get his hands on seems to be getting a workout.

Each time a new card comes in the mail -- always postmarked out of LA, the knot in your stomach seems to loosen. He’s still going. He’s not locked away somewhere.

Not yet, anyway.

You try to remind yourself that he’s smart -- really, really smart. He has a knack for staying under the radar. His Spanish is probably pretty decent at this point. He’s making or finding enough money to stay on the move.

Maybe he’s got a plan. Maybe he’s figured something out.

But it’s hard to keep the anxiety at bay. You watch your phone like a hawk, waiting to see an email or text saying he’s been caught. You spend every day waiting for the other shoe to drop.

So the cards go into your drawer -- and you get up and get dressed and go into the office every day like you’re not secretly rooting for the criminal so many of your colleagues are looking for.

*************************

The other shoe finally drops when you bump into Agent Novak in the cafeteria one afternoon.

Novak is one of those guys who looks like he’s straight out of central casting on a crime show. He has the appearance of a boxy, overgrown boy. Always dressed in a muted grey suit, always sporting a military-grade short haircut. The only thing that stands out on his completely non-descript face is his big mouth.

And right now you should be very glad for his big, fat mouth.

“You hear about your boy Jeon?” he asks, while piling his plate high with mac and cheese. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end for a moment at the mere mention of Jungkook’s name.

You move down the buffet line next to Novak slowly, the sudden adrenaline rush making your limbs feel weak and loose.

“Jeon?” you ask with feigned nonchalance. “Courthouse Houdini?”

“That’s the one,” Novak says, dropping two huge pieces of fried chicken onto his plate. “My buddy in the Marshals says they’re pretty close to bringing that asshole in,” he continues, adding some crinkle fries into the mix for good measure.

God, you hope he doesn’t have a heart attack before you get all the information you need.

He needs a trough, not a plate.

“Well, it’s about time,” you reply carefully and you hope it sounds convincing. “Where?”

“Central America,” he says, reaching down to his plate to start picking off the crinkle fries one-by-one. “Guatemala or some shit.”

A chill runs up your spine when you think about those postcards in your drawer.

They’re close.

They could be there right now.

He could be in handcuffs again right now.

“Hope they have better luck than I did keeping him nailed down,” you say, willing your voice and face to stay even.

“Oh trust me,” he says, talking around a mouthful of crinkle fry. “They’re going to teach that motherfucker a lesson when they get their hands on him. He won’t be able to walk, much less run.”

You swallow against the bile rising in your throat.

“That’s what he gets, right?”

Novak nods, grabbing for a chicken finger. You cringe when he shoves it into his mouth. Tiny pieces of the breading stick to his lips and you fight the urge to gag.

God, has he always been such a pig?

“Damn straight.”

****************************

You circle the block three times before you feel comfortable enough to park.

The neighborhood is quiet and clean and solidly middle-class. The house you are looking for is neat and well-kept, lawn trimmed and flower beds nicely maintained. It looks like a nice place to live.

You cut the ignition and take a deep breath.

You have to remind yourself that Jungkook is not Al fucking Capone and there’s no reason for the government to have around-the-clock surveillance on his family home. You have to maintain a level head even under this insane set of circumstances.

You try not to think about how furious he would probably be if he knew you were here right now.

Maybe someday he’ll understand why you’re doing this.

Maybe someday you’ll understand why you’re doing this.

You’d worked late at the office, preferring to make this move when the sun went down. You’re glad for the cover of darkness when you step out of your car and knock on the front door at the Jeon family home.

“Can I help you?”

You take a deep breath when Mr. Jeon opens the front door. He has the same kind, handsome face as Jungkook, only his is weathered with age and worry.

“Mr. Jeon, I need to speak with you about your son.”

His eyes widen for a moment. He seems to pull back and assess the way you’re dressed, figures out you’re one of those government-types.

“I’ve already said everything I have to say on the matter,” he says shortly, moving to shut the door.

“Wait, please,” you say urgently. “I’m trying to help him, I swear. I can explain if you let me in.”

He stops for a moment, levels you with a critical look.

“I think he’s in trouble,” you say quietly.

Mr. Jeon sighs heavily before opening the door wide and letting you in.

“I’m sorry to turn up at your home like this,” you say, moving immediately across the living room to close the blinds on all the street-facing windows. “But I’m not sure how much time I have.”

He watches in total silence but you can see he’s unnerved.

“I’m just...being cautious,” you explain, and he nods.

Once you’re satisfied no one can see inside, you start to calm down a bit. Mr. Jeon offers you a seat on the living room couch.

“This is a very strange situation, I know,” you admit.

He remains mute and still, waiting for you to cough up some kind of explanation.

“Do you know who I am?” you ask.

“No.”

His response is clipped and severe and you really can’t blame him.

“Okay,” you say, blowing out a breath. “Yes, I am with the FBI. But I --” you pause for a moment, grasping for a way to explain this bizarre situation. “ -- I know Jungkook. Personally.”

Intimately. Biblically, as they say.

“Okay,” he says cautiously.

“I need you to get in touch with him because I think he’s going to be arrested. Soon.”

Mr. Jeon rubs a hand across the back of his neck.

“I don’t know where he is. And I can’t get in touch with him,” he admits. “He doesn’t want us to know where he is because then you people will have something to hold over us.”

You wince at the venom in that statement.

A faint voice from another room calls out.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Mr. Jeon says.

He leaves you alone on the couch in the family room.

You wipe your sweaty palms on your dress pants as you take a look around. The decor is soft and welcoming, with a few nods to Korea in the artwork on the walls. It looks like a nice place to grow up, you think. The thought helps calm you.

He reappears after a minute.

“I’m sorry about that,” he says apologetically. “I would really prefer my wife not know about this. This situation has already caused her a lot of pain.”

“Of course -- I understand,” you say quietly. “So you have no way to contact him?”

“No. Not directly.”

“Then I need to know how you contact him indirectly. He’s been sending me postcards somehow. Do you know who could be sending me postcards from him?”

His face falls a bit.

“I shouldn’t say. I’m not trying to get anyone else in trouble.”

You lean forward a bit, fix him with a look that you hope conveys just how sincere you are about trying to help.

“I don’t want anyone else to get in trouble, either. But if you don’t give me that name, I promise you Jungkook will be. Please.”

Mr. Jeon sighs.

*****************************

You pull the brim of your baseball cap low over your eyes and adjust your sunglasses before walking into Min’s Market.

The small, family-owned store is in one of Koreatown’s most populated neighborhoods. You keep your head low as you dodge people on the sidewalk to make your way inside. An electronic chime sounds when you walk in.

The only thing you see in your quick glance around the store is a young man behind the register. He stands when you make eye contact and you take that as the go-ahead to approach.

He’s not a large guy by any means, but he definitely gives off a do not fuck with me vibe. You straighten your spine and get right to the point.

“Are you Yoongi?”

“Nope.”

He’s lying, of course. His eyes are narrowed at you beneath long black fringe bangs and you can’t blame his skepticism given the giant sunglasses and the hat and the workout clothes you’re hiding under. You look like you’re trying way too hard not to be noticed.

“I need to talk to you about Jungkook,” you say anyway.

“Never heard of him.”

Okay, not entirely unexpected. You’d come prepared for the possibility that he wouldn’t want to play ball.

You reach into your bag and pull out the postcards, drop them on the counter in front of him.

“You’ve been sending me these,” you say firmly. “And we need to talk.”

******************************

Yoongi takes you to the tiny office tucked into the back of Min’s Market. The space is cluttered with invoices and notes written in Hangul. There’s a monitor display where he can watch the surveillance cameras at the front of the store.

He motions for you to take a seat on the one small chair he has and opts to lean against the office desk, arms crossed.

“So you’re Carver Street, huh?”

You take your sunglasses off so you can look him in the eye.

“Yeah.”

“And you’re… a Fed.”

He delivers that line with a cynical twist to his mouth that makes you feel self-conscious.

“Yeah.”

“Shit’s wild,” he says, more to himself than to you.

“Yeah, wild,” you exhale nervously. “Look, I’m sure you don’t want to be involved here any more than you already are, so I’ll just come out with it,” you say. “I need to get in touch with Jungkook.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“Look, I don’t know you, okay? Maybe he does, but I don’t. And I’m not trying to be an asshole here, but I’m not going to give you that information.”

You rub at the corners of your temples with your fingers.

“You know he’s been reaching out to me. You know he trusts me.”

Yoongi snickers.

“We haven’t exactly had the chance to catch up over beers since this whole mess started. The only thing I know for sure is that he wants you to get those postcards,” he says.

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” you concede. “I’m pretty sure he’s in Honduras right now. And I need you to reach him as fast as you can. Because they are closing in on him and I don’t know how long he’s got.”

Yoongi shoves a hand through his hair.

“Okay. I’ll tell him.”

“How fast can you reach him?”

“Look, I said I’ll tell him, okay?”

You tell yourself to relax before you scare Yoongi off entirely. It looks like his patience with you is already worn thin.

“Okay. Please tell him to try to get to Nicaragua,” you say, careful to keep the agitation from creeping back into your voice. “They have a history of denying extradition requests to the U.S. It could buy us some time to figure out what to do.”

“Us?”

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow at you, the corners of his mouth lifting in a barely-concealed look of astonishment. You feel the blush that spreads across your face all the way to the tips of your ears.

“Him,” you correct yourself awkwardly, “it could buy him some time to figure out what to do.”

He grabs a pen and scribbles on a sheet of paper on the desk.

“Nicaragua, okay. Got it.”

“And please -- if you can -- get him this,” you say, handing Yoongi your own slip of paper with a number written on it. “It’s a burner. In case he needs to get in touch.”

Yoongi takes the number from you and nods.

“Alright.”

You stand to leave, knowing you’ve taken as much of his time as you’re allowed.

“One more thing and I promise you’ll never hear from me again,” you say, pointing to the monitor inside the office.

“Delete that,” you say. “Please.”

*************************************

You dig around in your cabinet until you find the wine glass you’re looking for -- the huge one -- and then you reach into the fridge for what’s left of your Sauvignon Blanc and dump it into that glass.

Nothing to do now but hope he gets the message in time.

Nothing to do now but watch your work phone and see if he’s been arrested.

Nothing to do now but watch your burner phone to see if he’s contacted you.

It’s time to admit your nerves are shot. Weeks of heightened anxiety are taking its toll and the past two days have felt like a marathon.

You run a bath -- make sure the water is close to painfully hot before you sink into the tub. Your body feels exhausted but your mind is still racing like you’ve shotgunned a cup of coffee.

You lean your head back against the ledge of the bath and take a long drink of the wine.

What if he makes it to Nicaragua? What does that even mean? You buy a few more weeks of the same on-the-run bullshit and for what?

What is the end game here? And for that matter why on earth are you doing any of this?

You barely know this man. And now it’s starting to feel like you barely know yourself.

Your fingers and toes are pruny and the water is lukewarm at best when you finally crawl out of the tub. You down the rest of your wine, throw a soft t-shirt on and fall into the bed.

All night you toss and turn and when you finally wake it’s like you never slept at all.

****************************

It’s a few days before you see Novak again.

You happen to overhear his obnoxiously loud laugh just outside your office and your entire body jolts to attention.

You jump up from your desk and peer outside.

Novak is busy chatting up a woman who works a few spaces down, no doubt boring her with unwanted banter about his weekend. He happens to look up and you motion for him to come over.

“Hey, yeah, I’ll be right there,” he says, and you head back to your desk on leaden legs.

Maybe he knows something, maybe he doesn’t.

You’ve got to figure out how to walk the line between interested in the search for Jungkook but not too interested. Thankfully, Novak doesn’t strike you as the type to pick up on the subtleties of most interactions. If he was, he’d stop bugging that woman right away.

He knocks loudly on your open door when he finally makes his way over.

“Hey,” he grins widely. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” you smile back, feeling a cold panic spread across your chest. Maybe you’re not ready to hear what he has to say.

“I was wondering if your buddies ever caught up to Jeon.”

“Man listen,” Novak says, helping himself to a chair. “You are not going to believe this shit.”

Your fingernails grip your legs underneath the desk, dig painfully into the skin just above your knees through the thin fabric of your pants.

“Did he...get away, again?” you ask, desperate to keep a note of hope out of your voice.

“Yup,” Novak confirms. “Piece of shit cleared out by the time the Marshals they sent down there managed to get to where he was. Some place in Honduras or something.”

Novak shakes his head.

“My buddies are sick of looking for his ass at this point. At some point they’ve got to call it off, right?”

You can barely register a thing he’s saying because oh my god he made it out.

“Wow,” you manage, trying to appear appropriately sympathetic and outraged. “That’s unbelievable.”

“Yeah so,” Novak says, “back to the drawing board on that one, I guess.”

You’re forced to sit through a few more minutes of his blabber and small talk but all you can think about is Jungkook making it out in time. All you can think about is getting back to your house and to that burner phone.

When Novak finally stands to leave, you nearly sigh out loud with relief.

“Hey, good luck to your buddies, yeah? That’s got to be pretty frustrating,” you say, walking him out the door.

“Yeah, I’ll pass the message along,” he says. “I’m sure you’re just as ready as they are to see this guy get what he deserves.”

You smile weakly.

“Oh, definitely.”

***************************

You make a beeline for the ladies room and walk right into a stall.

Once inside, you drop the seat lid and sit on top, desperate for just one moment to be alone with your thoughts.

He made it out. He’s not in custody. Maybe there’s a way to fix this entire mess.

Then you fall apart.

You’ve reached the limit of what you can handle without some kind of emotional release. The panic and the anxiety and the relief and the hope come together and boil over inside you.

The tears start coming and they don’t stop.

You have to flush the toilet three times to cover the sound of your sobs.

***************************

You race home from the office and practically dive for the burner phone in your nightstand. The entire drive back, you’ve told yourself not to expect a message.

It’s entirely possible he doesn’t want to contact you.

It’s entirely possible that he doesn’t have anything to say to you after the way you left things in San Juan. You tell yourself to be ready to see absolutely nothing when you check the burner.

But when you do unlock the phone, you find a waiting text. You steel yourself for what he has to say.

nicaragua is boring [ 3:15 PM ]

send nudes [ 3:15 PM ]

You laugh.

You laugh for so hard and so long your tears gather in the corner of your eyes. You laugh until your sides start to hurt from the absolute absurdity.

It’s so him that you have to laugh.

That night, when you fall into bed you sleep an inky black sleep, without dreams or interruptions.

It’s the best rest you’ve gotten in weeks.

************************

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #bangtanarmynet #bts fanfic #btssmut #bts fic

870 notes · View notes

cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Gavin’s Location Scouting Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date (堪景之约) which has not been released in other servers! 🍒

Do read the prologue first for context: here

[ This date was released in CN on 10 Sep 2020 ]

MC: Temporarily closed?

Picking garden owner: Yes, there was a rainstorm last night, and the windows of the storehouse weren't shut tightly, so all the tools in the garden got drenched. We have no choice but to close down the garden temporarily.

MC: Just letting us take a few simple photos of the view will do. There’s no need to actually do the picking.

Picking garden owner: The garden is in complete disarray... it’s not very suitable for photographs, I’m sorry.

MC: It’s all right... thank you for the hard work.

Today is the last day we’re gathering materials of the scenery, and we have more or less visited every nook and cranny of this little town.

This picking garden was originally meant to be the final stop, but I didn’t expect such an incident to occur.

After saying goodbye to the owner of the picking garden, the final glimmer of hope in my heart is extinguished. I lean against Gavin’s side weakly.

Gavin: Are you all right? Don’t be discouraged - let’s ask for some advice from town’s tourist centre. Maybe things will take a turn for the better.

Gavin wraps an arm around me, patting my right shoulder in a comforting manner.

MC: All right, I’ll give it a try.

I nod repeatedly, whipping out my phone and getting the contact information of the person in charge of the tourist centre.

Person in charge: I see. You’ve already been to all the other scenic spots in the town... Oh yes, the only university in the town - Hai Bin University - is holding an open house. If you don’t have other back-up plans, why not have a look?

After hanging up, I recall how I had participated in my university’s open house. It was indeed filled with interesting memories, and I think the potential content from taking photographs there would be very rich.

Gavin: Once you’ve decided, we can set out.

He takes out his phone, actions nimble as he enters the destination into the navigation system.

Gavin: Hai Bin University is very near from here. We can head over on foot. And also take a look at that street we passed by when we were in the car yesterday.

MC: That sightseeing street?

Gavin: Mm, I remember you mentioning that you wanted to take another look if you had the chance. There’s a chance now.

MC: That’s great! Does this count as an unexpected bonus?

I smile and take a step forward, holding Gavin’s hand. His lips are hooked into a slight smile, and he tightens his grip on my fingers.

In order to attract tourists, the developer specifically re-constructed most of the buildings in the town to have a European style.

Perhaps due to it being the final day of gathering materials, Gavin and I walk along the small path leisurely, which exudes the atmosphere of a foreign country.

The temperature of this seaside town in early autumn is favourable. Occasionally, we’d pass by streets lined with chinese parasol trees, the rustling leaves pleasing.

Suddenly filled with regret that we had been spending the past few days rushing around various scenic spots, I slow down my pace.

Gavin seems to sense this. He cooperates, slowing down his pace to match mine.

I sneak a glance at Gavin’s side profile, and I can’t help but smile.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

Noticing my movement, Gavin turns his head to ask. Gentle sunlight falls onto his eyes - clear and bright.

MC: Nothing, I just think this is really nice.

After hearing this, Gavin holds onto my hand even more tightly.

Gavin: I think so too.

Without much effort, we enter the street belonging to Hai Bin University.

Although it would take a couple more minutes before we reach the school, the streets are lined on both sides with several students who are handing out flyers.

Female students, who are in groups of twos and threes, are buzzing about the activities happening in school. Tall male students walk past, holding onto basketballs.

It’s the perfect depiction of a beautiful youth.

I turn to Gavin, who is standing next to me.

The sunlight of early autumn is warm and bright, softening Gavin’s originally cold and stern side profile.

MC: Gavin, if you were in university, you would have been the focus of the school. For example, you’d be the face of the basketball team - the handsome guy surrounded and spectated by juniors at every competition...

Gavin’s line of sight shifts from the navigation map on his phone to me, his eyebrows arched.

Gavin: What about you?

[ Option A: Nothing special ]

MC: My... my life in university wasn’t anything special. It was the same as high school - I went to class, rushed my thesis in the library, and then graduated before I even realised it.

[ Option B: Very rich and colourful ]

MC: Now that I think about it, my university life was always very interesting. I made a lot of like-minded friends, and even participated in many meaningful activities.

MC: But if you were around, I might have been a cheerleader for your basketball team.

Right after I finish speaking, a tall male student with a strong build strides towards us, pointing at the flyers in his hand.

Student A: Schoolmates! Are you talking about basketball? Want to participate in our shooting competition?

I didn’t expect Gavin and I to be mistaken as students in this university, much less invited to participate in a competition. Slightly embarrassed, I hurriedly wave my hands.

MC: We’re not...

Student A: The rules are very simple! If you make 3 three-pointers out of 5 shots, you can bring back a stuffed animal.

He points at the picture of a gigantic rabbit stuffed toy on the leaflet. Its fluffy ears are pinkish, and it looks incredibly cute.

Student A: Not winning a stuffed toy for your girlfriend? She seems to like it very much.

While I’m still thinking of how to reject him, Gavin has already agreed.

Gavin: Lead the way.

I’m dumbfounded. Gavin gives our interlocked hands a squeeze, pulling me closer to him.

Gavin: The rabbit stuffed toy - do you like it?

MC: I like it, but there’s really no need to participate.

Gavin: Since we’re already here, why not experience it. Whatever you like, I’ll help you get it.

He looks at me seriously as he speaks. His eyes are full of light. My heart suddenly feels warm, as though great strength has been poured into it.

MC: I’ll put in even more effort when taking photographs then!

Likely attributed to the school’s open house, large banners and posters decorate the interior of the school, and students are dressed in all sorts of manners.

When we reach the venue of the basketball competition, there are already several people in the queue.

Most of the participants are student couples.

The male students roll their wrists and showcase some mock shooting postures, while the female students are at the side cheering them on.

The entire area seems to be infected by their energy.

However, perhaps due to the sheer number of people watching, the male students repeatedly fail to shoot the balls through the hoop.

The thin and frail boy standing in front of Gavin seems to be particularly anxious, and I can even see both of his hands trembling slightly.

Very, soon, it’s the boy’s turn. I watch as he dribbles the ball, looking as though he isn’t as strong as he wishes to be. Then, he throws the ball unsteadily into the air. It doesn’t even touch the basket.

His three consecutive tries are unsuccessful.

Gavin takes the ball from the dejected-looking boy. He casually dribbles it twice. With a jump, he could get a three-pointer.

My expectant gaze is on the basket -- the ball circles the hoop twice, then falls outside of it.

Just as I’m prepared to comfort Gavin, he retrieves the ball and says softly:

Gavin: I’ve more or less gotten the feel of it.

While I’m stunned, Gavin lifts his head towards the basket.

With a slight tiptoe, his movements are clean as he jumps.

At the peak of his jump, he flicks his wrist, sending the basketball flying in a beautiful parabola across the air, hitting the backboard steadily. The ball rebounds, falling into the basket.

Scorekeeper: The first one to shoot it in!

Gavin dribbles the ball, staring at the faraway basket. Very quickly, he shoots the second ball through the hoop.

Without blinking, I stare at Gavin’s side profile, feeling both nervous and expectant for his next shot.

In contrast to the earlier two shots, this time, his expression is more at ease, and he casually dribbles the ball next to him.

He lifts his hand-- Takes aim--

With a light flick of his wrist, the third ball goes through the hoop, his movements done in one connected breath.

Audience: Good shot!!

The spectators erupt into cheers, and even the male students who are watching can’t help but whistle.

However, the main protagonist who garnered such cheers doesn’t seem to care about the noisy crowd. His gaze is on me, and he seems to be smiling yet not smiling.

Gavin: [mouthing the words] Cheerleader.

I snort with laughter, placing my hands at the side of my mouth to mimic a loudspeaker.

MC: Incredibly, unmatchably dashing!!

Of course, Gavin wins the biggest rabbit plush toy. I hug it as I walk next to him, the heavy happiness in my hands channelling into my heart.

Students who pass by and see the gigantic plush in my hands cast me envious glances.

Unexpectedly receiving “salutes” with their eyes, I feel just like the plush in my hands, stuffed to the brim with pride and satisfaction.

It’s as though I’m not hugging a simple rabbit plush, but the most precious, unique treasure in the entire world.

While I indulge in my imagination, the weight in my hands suddenly disappears.

Gavin takes the doll from me, carrying it on his shoulder. His other hand holds mine.

Gavin: Where else do you want to take photos?

Just as I’m about to respond to his question, we’re stopped by the frail-looking boy who was queuing in front of Gavin earlier.

Student B: May I ask... if you could sell the doll to me?

After I bluntly reject this strange request, the boy stammers incoherently for a long time before we finally understand the reason for it.

He wanted to give the doll to a girl he likes, but since he couldn’t seem to shoot the ball through the hoop, he had no choice but to ask us to sell the doll to him.

Student B: S-so could I trouble you to sell it to me? Please!

MC: I’m sorry. Even though I really want to help you, this doll is an important gift to me.

Student B: It’s all right, my request was too unreasonable. Looks like I really won’t stand a chance then...

Looking at his dejected state, Gavin, who has remained silent all this while, suddenly speak up.

Gavin: If you truly like the other person, you should tell her directly about how you genuinely feel. Don’t use such half-hearted methods.

Student B: ...I've tried it. But every time I’m alone with her, I can't speak properly. Afterwards, she happened to join the club I formed. The club has always been pretty desolate, so the two of us eventually became friends.

MC: Isn't that a good thing?

Student B: No... I have a clumsy mouth, so my words often fail to convey what I mean, which has caused a lot of misunderstandings, making her unhappy. She wasn’t here to prepare for the open house activities, so I wanted to give the doll to her, in hopes that she wouldn't leave the club...

The boy grows increasingly gloomy as he speaks. As I deliberate on how to comfort him, Gavin furrows his brows, giving him a straightforward reminder.

Gavin: And after she doesn’t leave the club? If you don’t express how you feel, anything you do will be futile. Since she’s someone you like, there’s no need to hide it.

I rarely hear Gavin straightening out strangers. His voice sounds casual, but his amber eyes are filled with certainty.

After hearing this, the boy lowers his head even further. His brows are tightly knitted, looking as though he’s in a painful struggle.

In tacit agreement, Gavin and I don’t speak. After a very long time, the boy lifts his head, his gaze brimming with resoluteness.

Student B: What you said is right! I shouldn’t have asked for the doll from you two. No matter what, it’d only be meaningful if I go all out.

The boy grows increasingly excited as he speaks. In the end, he balls his hands into fists.

Student B: Thank you both! I’ll definitely work hard to change how she feels!

Gavin: What do you plan to do?

Gavin’s chilly voice is akin to a basin of cold water. In a moment, the boy’s hot-blooded passion turns cold to the marrow.

The boy, whose chest had been puffed up earlier, shirks back to his original self.

Student B: I... I don’t know. I actually haven’t thought about it...

Looking at his pitiful and dejected state, I sympathise with him slightly.

MC: Gavin, why don’t we help him? We could also take some photographs for material.

Gavin: Whatever you say.

MC: Come to think of it, what was the open house activity you prepared? Why did you still have time to shoot hoops?

The boy pushes up his glasses, a streak of brightness finally appearing on his gloomy face.

Student B: For this open house activity, the Glasses Society prepared a glasses fair. Our goal is to present all the different kinds of glasses in the world, and the stories behind them! But for some reason, no one came to visit, so I left temporarily!

MC: ...

Gavin: ...

Gavin and I look at his extremely excited and proud expression, and are left speechless for a long time.

There are truly all kinds of strange societies in the world... no wonder this place is so desolate.

However, since we’ve already agreed to help, I decide to think of ideas for him.

MC: Right now, I can’t think of a better way to help you woo the person you like. But we could help out with your club’s activity.

The boy’s eyes brighten.

Student B: Thank you both so much! Since you’d like to collaborate with the Glasses Society, why not wear a pair of glasses!

Gavin: ...I don’t have a habit of wearing glasses.

MC: It does sound pretty interesting though.

Even after digging through my memories seriously, I realise I haven’t seen Gavin in glasses much.

I sneak a glance at Gavin’s face, and start picturing what kind of glasses would look good on him.

We walk to the meticulously prepared activity booth prepared by the Glasses Society. As the boy mentioned, the booth is filled with a superb and dazzling collection of strange glasses.

Student B: No worries, they are all clear lens glasses, so you can pick them freely.

I casually select a pair and wear them, then pull Gavin, who is looking around his surroundings, to my side.

MC: Gavin, come and pick a pair of glasses which suit you!

Gavin can’t seem to comprehend my sudden enthusiasm, and he furrows his brows.

Gavin: I don’t need them.

MC: Just treat it as trying out a different style!

Such a rare opportunity to see Gavin in glasses - I must definitely have a feast!

There are glasses with frames, glasses without frames, aviator sunglasses, golden-rimmed glasses... Not long after, a little mountain of glasses appears on the table before Gavin.

Gavin: ...I’ll try two or three then.

I pick up the golden-rimmed glasses, putting them onto Gavin’s face excitedly.

The delicate frame doesn’t shroud Gavin’s coolness, and even brings out the depths of his eyes.

It’s just that... he looks a little too dashing.

I retrieve the glasses from Gavin’s face, putting them back in their original place without a second glance. Then, I hold up a pair of black-framed glasses which have a rounded edge.

I place it against Gavin’s face and gesture with it.

MC: Oo... this one isn't bad.

Gavin: You like this one?

MC: Mm, it looks especially nice on your face.

Hearing this, Gavin leans down slightly. Gently, I hook the temple tips of the glasses behind his ears.

The rounded and blunt frame seems to soften Gavin’s sharp and distinct lower jaw. With the refraction of the lenses, his brown pupils exude refreshing coolness.

In glasses, Gavin looks incredibly youthful. The black frames add a foreign, bookish aura to him.

Although they are clearly just a pair of normal glasses, they give off modelling vibes when Gavin wears them.

I seem to enter a trance while staring at him.

Gavin: MC? You...

MC: [coughs] This pair then!

Having selected “equipment” for Gavin, I’m just about to head out when he pulls me.

Gavin: Hold on. You’re not ready yet.

I turn around to look at Gavin as he holds his chin, looking at the display cabinet and pondering seriously.

Before I can react, he has already made his choice. He holds up a pair of reddish-brown clear lens glasses.

Turning around, he gently takes off the glasses I had picked out randomly just now. After tucking stray hairs behind my ears, he helps me put on the glasses in his hands.

Probably because we were outside for too long just now, his fingers are cold. However, when his ice-cold fingertips brush my ear, I feel my ears heat up slightly.

I cast a glance towards a mirror by the side, realising that the rounded glasses are extremely cute.

MC: It doesn’t really matter which glasses I wear...

Gavin: But it’s very cute like this. [coughs] ...a different type of cuteness as compared to the usual.

I tidy my hair a little unnaturally, then meet his eyes expectantly.

MC: How is it?

Gavin: As expected, very pretty. But it’s not the glasses that look pretty. It’s the person who looks pretty.

His hand lingers on my ear, his thumb and forefinger stroking my earlobe softly.

Hearing such a direct compliment, my face flushes slightly.

Now that the both of us are in glasses, we return to the activity area of the school with the male student.

I raise the small signboard, calling out from time to time. Gavin stands next to me quietly.

After a while, people actually start coming over to make enquiries. However, most of them are females, and they flock around Gavin so he can explain more about this “Glasses Society”.

Also holding onto a small signboard, the President of the club stands at the side, looking slightly defeated.

Student B: I spent the afternoon running around to advertise, but no one came. This world really does look at appearances...

??: What are all of you doing?

Turning towards the voice, I see a pretty and petite girl with shoulder-length hair looking startled as she stands nearby.

Female student: President, you’re...

At the side, the male student is akin to a boiled prawn, stuttering incoherently.

I know that this is probably the girl he likes.

Student B: I’m... working hard to attract people to participate in the activity we prepared!

Female student: I see...

The girl looks at me carefully, then at Gavin who is standing at the back.

Female student: Since... you already have people helping you, I’ll leave first...

Just as the female student turns to leave, I pull her to a stop without hesitation.

MC: Please wait!

At this stage, why isn't that fellow doing anything! I frantically throw a glance at the male student.

Gavin discreetly lifts his hand, and the male student suddenly staggers out, giving the female student a fright.

Standing behind the male student, Gavin gives me a look, and I immediately understand.

MC: This President has something to say to you.

The President, whose face is completely flushed, balls his hands into fists. He takes a deep breath.

Student B: I hope you can return to the club!

Female student: Ah, w-why?

Student B: Because!

The President’s volume suddenly increases, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Student B: Because you’re my most important member! I... I hope that I can see you every day, and be with you... to continue developing this club!

Even though the male student still fails to say the most straightforward words, the sincerity and urgency in his tone are evident.

After being stunned for a moment, the girl seems to understand his unspoken words. She lowers her bright red face, hesitating for a while.

Female student: Mm... then, I won’t leave.

The male student walks to her, nodding solemnly. Both of them burst into silly laughter, their faces red.

MC: He did it!!

Gavin can’t help but laugh. He walks to my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

Gavin: It’s a good thing he didn’t miss out on even more.

As Gavin speaks, he tightens his hold on me.

I lift my head to look at him. In his eyes, I can only see myself.

After saying goodbye to the students from the Glasses Society, Gavin and I experience several other open house activities in the school, and collect a full storage card worth of materials.

Right now, it’s almost evening. The twilight of early autumn dyes the sky a reddish pink.

As the day draws to a close, students from several booths have begun to pack up.

Gavin and I sit on a bench at the corner of the school. Lowering my head, I look through the various materials captured in the camera.

MC: Youth is really nice. It’s.a shame I didn’t have such a wild time in university. But no matter what, this task of collecting materials is a complete success. We even witnessed a beautiful romance, so there’s really no loss.

Realising that I've been talking a lot, I pause and look at Gavin.

He’s still wearing the pair of glasses the male student gave to us as a souvenir. As a result, the sharp contours of his side profile have softened by quite a large extent.

Seeming to notice my gaze, Gavin turns his head towards me.

Gavin: How do you want to go wild?

MC: Erm, for example...

At the moment, I actually can’t think of what could constitute a dynamic, spectacular experience that one definitely can’t miss out on. So I toss the question back to him.

MC: What about you?

Gavin doesn’t respond. A strong gale suddenly whips up, causing fallen leaves to dance in the air, as though seeking to cover the both of us up.

Students in the surroundings immediately hold down their items, and some can’t even open their eyes because of the wind.

Only the air surrounding Gavin and I flows peacefully.

Gavin gently caresses the side of my face. His gaze lingers, as though seeking to etch my appearance deeply in his mind.

I place my palm on the back of his hand, concentrating on its warmth.

We stare into each other’s eyes, as though we have been paused in this moment forever.

Gavin: This kind of wind... is it okay?

[Note] Our Bespectacled Boy uses wordplay here.

“Go wild” is translated from 疯一回 (“feng yi hui”)

“Wind” is 风 (“feng”)

👓 MOMENTS 👓

Gavin’s Post: It’s not suitable to wear glasses while eating hot soup noodles.

MC: Deep respect for everyone who wears glasses!

Gavin: You were just saluting people who eat ice-cream in winter yesterday.

Gavin’s Post: It’s not suitable to wear glasses while eating hot soup noodles.

MC: I have a feeling you’ll leave these glasses unused next time...

Gavin: I’ll wear them in the office to guard against blue light.

Gavin’s Post: It’s not suitable to wear glasses while eating hot soup noodles.

MC: Hahaha just thinking about how we looked in the noodle shop makes me want to laugh.

Gavin: Still want to have supper tonight?

Call: First // Second

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #h n g h #I teared up from the cuteness

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fizziefizzco · 3 years

Text

A to Z of LynnCove: E is for Eternity

A quick look at a bright future

This was supposed to be posted yesterday but I had a bit of a panic attack so that did not happen :] Sorry about that!! Here’s a long one to make up for it <3

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

Even though it was his day off, Cove still woke up to his alarm in the morning. He wasn’t a natural morning person, and needed the extra push in order to wake up most mornings. The sun filtered in through the semi-opaque curtains of his bedroom, and the 25 year old man groaned softly as he moved to turn his alarm off and grab his glasses. Just as soon as he slipped them on his face, did the sliding barn door to the bedroom open to an eager little Chesapeake Bay Retriever that bounded over to him and licked at the free hand that laid off the side of the bed.

“Well good morning to you too, Fleche.” Cove hummed and petted the not-quite puppy , but not quite an adult dog, her coat was soft yet a little wet, as Fleche was a very messy eater. At the little girl’s insistence, Cove swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, stretching in the light of the summer sun after he opened the curtains. Just as he stood up, the smell of breakfast cooking reached Cove’s nose. “Ah. So this is what you were sent here to do. Already had your breakfast, little girl?” Fleche pushed against Cove’s legs, not even looking up at him to answer his question.

The house he lived in at age 25 was nothing short of beautiful. A small beach house right close to the water, it was like something out of a dream when he found it. Gorgeous wood floors, an overall hawaiian feeling to it (for being in southern california) and the best view ever…. Well, the beach was good too.

[Rest Under the Cut]

His view, though, came in the form of a person’s back being turned to him as they stood in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Tall and angular, the years had been very kind to them, and their hair was long and in its natural color, a warm brown. There was a tattoo on their left calf of a crab surrounded by poppies, one that matched his own of a dolphin that resided on his lower back. They didn’t hear him coming, but Cove wasn’t one for pulling pranks, that thankfully, was his spouse’s forte. Cove walked up behind them, gently wrapping large arms around their waist and nuzzling his face in their hair.

“Good Morning sleepyhead.” They spoke, not turning their head to look over at him.

“ Mornin’ Lynn.” Cove returned, pressing a kiss to his spouse’s cheek.

Lynn and Cove had changed a lot over the years in terms of likes and appearances. Lynn, who had once been asked to model thanks to their beautiful and femmine figure, was now a lot more androgynous after some soul searching, and a wonderful support network. Cove fit the more masculine look, and looked a lot more like his father, but that same look betrayed his soft and shy personality.

“What are you making?” Cove asked after Lynn turned to look back at him and to get a kiss. Lynn smiled warmly as they turned back to the pan, and what was cooking inside it.

“Pancakes. I made some separate ones for me, these are your pancakes.” Cove had only been half-listening after they mentioned that they made pancakes, the hungry thoughts of food filling his mind as he let go of his spouse.

“I’ll set the table. What do you want to drink?” Cove asked, rubbing his eyes with a wide yawn. Lynn shrugged as they flipped one of the pancakes.

“Orange juice sounds good.” Lynn said nonchalantly, to which Cove nodded and grabbed the bottle from their fridge, which was decorated with many tourist magnets as well as photos, ads, and sticky notes.

Sooner, breakfast was finished cooking. Lynn served Cove’s plate first, and then their own at their small nook that served as their dining table. Fleche had run off to nap in a sunny spot on the couch, their living area being an open floor plan. The two of them weren’t perfect, as many people seemed to still believe, but they worked well and communicated with each other - which led to such a strong relationship. They had their own things that they did, and own friends, but they still did a lot together as a couple - one thing they loved doing, even now, was going for a surf on their days off. Cove wanted to ask Lynn if they were up to the idea.

“Are you up for surfing today, husband?” Lynn asked, as though they’d read Cove’s mind. A mischievous smile danced on their lips, and Cove wasn’t sure if they could...or if they were just messing with him, but he felt like they knew.

“Yes.”He squeaked out, a blush appearing on his features.

The topic soon, even though it was their day off, developed into talking about work. At age 25, Cove was a chef and organizer for a local charity kitchen. It wasn’t a glamorous job, certainly, but it was one that he enjoyed doing. People loved him, and he was able to talk easier with the vulnerable people he taught to cook. Lynn’s hard work their entire life paid off, and they were a zookeeper, taking care of marine animals at the zoo’s aquarium. Their work and his helped pay for their gorgeous house, and dog.. And the nice set of savings for when they would try for children.

The trip to the beach was as mundane as it always was, but for the two of them - every moment was magical as they ran around the water near their home. Fleche loved to play fetch with them when they went out on their surfboards, she could swim really far and would bring back the frisbee they threw each time. Fleche was also a very good girl as well, when they set her back on land and went at it surfing; the waters near their home were a prime spot for waves but were unknown except for by the locals. There was a kid that always came by to watch them, and the two of them often joked how much it was like they were already parents.

After coming home from the beach and taking a shower, the couple split off and would do their own things on their day off. For Cove it consisted of testing a new muffin recipe that he wanted to surprise Lynn with, as well as getting in a few chapters of his new book, and watering the plants they were growing on their porch. For Lynn, their free time consisted of watching a new soccer match, a few crosswords during lulls in the game, working more on a painting they were doing, and unfortunately answering emails as the newest intern was a complete klutz but Lynn was very very patient.

That night was time though for the two of them to get dressed up for a joint-family dinner. The Holdens and The Chos started it after Lynn went off for college and Cove moved out, though the individual families would still have separate dinners from time to time. It was much better with everyone though. Kyra still lived in Nevada, working ever hard on her writing - she had a boyfriend recently though, last time Cove and Lynn saw her. As for Mr. Holden, he’d gotten married the last summer, to a lovely woman named Aya who owned a flower shop, but Cove was still not sure about her. Mom and Ma were doing really well for themselves, taking it easy but still being the life of their country club. As for Lizzie… well, as much as Lynn’s older sister loved to joke about her lil sibling doing all the big milestones before her, there was one thing that she didn’t count on. Lizzie had a kid, and with her oldest friend no less. Shiloh and Lizzie had met again after that awkward encounter, and he’d apologized to her, with real feelings. They weren’t married yet or anything but things were going well for them, and they’d had a kid. Bertie, who was three. Lynn loved the little guy, and even though Cove and Shiloh were still awkward around each other as ever - the Holden-Cho family was good.

“Do you have the thing you told Ma you’d bring?” Lynn waved their hand over to Cove who laughed as he took a container out of the fridge.

“Of course. I made sure to tell Claude that she liked it so much when she came to visit. And yes, he promised to stop hitting on her.” He responded to his spouse’s question, watching as they slid earrings in while grabbing their keys. Lynn stopped short before doing anything else , feeling their husband’s eyes on their back the entire time.

“Can I help you, Mr. Holden?” Lynn’s face split into a sly, seductive smirk. Cove bit his lip as he went to grab his coat from the counter barstool.

“Why no, Mx.Holden, I was just admiring my ravishing spouse. You never cease to amaze me.” He mumbled as he closed the distance to them, Lynn using their hands to move his to their waist.

“And you never cease to be the cheesiest man alive. You’ve got to stop hanging out with those boys.” Lynn’s words were drawn from their lips as Cove pressed a kiss to them. No makeup, but lip balm this night.�� Cove pressed another kiss, and then another to his spouse’s lips, before pressing their foreheads together with a happy, contented sigh.

“Normally I love being home with our families, but..”

“But..?”

“But I’d rather much take you back to our bedroom and show you how much I appreciate you.”

Lynn laughed at that and pulled away, heading to the shoe rack and front door.

“Come on handsome. I’ll let you show me later tonight.” Lynn slid some cute flats on, their slender fingers brushing against the anklet around their … well, ankle. Before heading for the door, Lynn shot a look back at their blushing husband, whose hands were empty.

“Don’t forget the food.”

#our life beginnings & always #Our Life #Cove Holden #OC: Lynn Cho #Cove Holden x Lynn Cho #mywriting

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2bored2care · 4 years

Text

Noona || Ateez

↳ About — After months without seeing each other, you and Ateez decide to have a fun night out in a hip nightclub in Hongdae. A sudden argument cuts your celebrations short, but a late night visit promises to get your mood up again.

↳ Pairing — ? x reader

↳ Genre — idol!ateez, producer!reader, friends to lovers, smut, fluff, slight angst, noona!reader

↳ Word count — 16k+

↳ Rating — M/+18

↳ Warnings — None, but it's mature content. Be aware that the main character is older than the boys. Secret pairing (revealed during the story!)

↳ Cross-post — AO3

Author’s Note: this originally had an OC, but I changed it to be reader insert. Still, there are some descriptions of the main character. Wasn't proofread. Might have a continuation but works just fine as a oneshot! This was my first time writing mature content (and my first writing piece in god knows how long) so bear with me hehe Any feedback is always appreaciated!

Some days are easier than others. Today was definitely on the bad side, that's why a night out with friends seemed like the best idea to cool off. After countless stressful meetings at work, including passionate discussions with coworkers and complications with important clients, you couldn't wait to get home, take a nice shower and spend a few hours invested in a hot look for the night.

You see, it's not every night that your eight best friends are available for some fun, much less including a nice pajama party with lots of wine, soju and bad TV shows. There's good and bad in being friends with an idol group, although the bad likes to manifest more often than not. Ateez's maknae didn't exactly celebrate his definite passage to adulthood properly - that is, didn't get wasted like there's no tomorrow and make bad decisions at some stinky club at the hip side of town - thanks to their schedule, so imagine your surprise when you received a very excited call during your shitty afternoon.

Jongho had called you to make sure you had no plans for the night and share interesting news: they had the weekend off and a nice VIP section in one of the best spots in Hongdae. Lots of free drinks, good music and, the best of all, no curfew. That, of course, came with one small price, that only seemed good to you in the end. All eight boys needed to sleep over yours. Something common when you had late nights, since some crazy fans - better yet, sasaengs - loved camping at their dorm door, and news of all of them coming home stupidly drunk at who knows what hours was terrible publicity.

That call came at the best time possible; a way to brighten your cloudy day. After talking to him and the loud boys screaming at the back, your little free time during the day was spent planning your outfit, makeup and hair. Everyone needs some me-time at times. You definitely needed it today, no doubt. That's why you decided to clock out a little earlier and ran home as soon as you could. The boys were excited, but not nearly as excited as you. It felt like years since you all had enough time to actually share a conversation - their overseas tour left you a little needy and missing them a bit too much.

Living in South Korea and working with entertainment left you with very little friends, and ever since you started getting close to the idol group, that list got even smaller. Imagine the horror if the world knew any of them was hanging around with a woman - a foreigner, no less! If their fans knew they ever slept at your house, all hell would be loose. But you wouldn't change it for the world, no matter how many times the boys apologized or needed to cancel on you. You loved them all too much nonetheless, always a soft heart, even with your permanent resting bitch face.

Only a few people in your life knew of such friendship, including your closest friends back at home. They were huge fans of the group, but would never tell a soul of your closeness. That's why the boys were fond of them, they knew they would be there for you, always. Although they never met, the plan was still there! You intended to visit home when the boys would perform in your home country, so to make sure the crazy encounter would happen - your friends might've forced you to pinky-promise to introduce them, not that you'd hold it against them anyway.

After months without being able to see the group, you decided to go all the way with your look for the night. It was a special occasion, after all! Heading home, you had a close idea of what you were shooting for, knowing that you'd need to let loose soon or you'd burst.

Even if some would think being around such handsome men would be bad for your already fucked up self esteem, their effect was the opposite. They made you feel alive and noticed. No matter where you were, you were sure that you were accompanied by the hottest guys in the room. And, even in a platonic way, you knew you were the one they were spending the whole night with. Not just that, but it gave you a nice excuse to get dressed up properly, since you had to measure up!

All you could think about was the beautiful - and sinful - little dress you'd bought weeks prior. The velvet piece caught your attention while you were walking in a busy street. You weren't one to buy dresses, that's for sure, but you were also looking for a change and that dress meant just that. With the burgundy piece in mind, you started to finish planning your look while riding the subway home. The club wasn't far from your apartment complex - Seul was a small city compared to your not-so-missed hometown - so you had more than enough time to get your game face on.

At home, you rushed to take a well-deserved hot shower, getting your hair a little humid so you could model it however you wanted. The long locks fell over your shoulder to your waist, a mix of platinum blond, gray and dark pink. You had just changed it - something common for you - and were happy it looked as good as you hoped when you did it late at night last Saturday. With some mood making music on, you were ready to get started.

You curled your hair in a 50's fashion, one of your favorite looks, and pushed it back to get your makeup done. Always a sucker for autumn colors, you did your eyes with a smoky brownish red and orange palette, finishing it with a long cat-eye, your trademark. You did your skin next, making sure to put some rose-colored blush on your cheeks, as if you maybe had a drink or two before leaving. Some highlighter to finish it nicely, and a gradient for your lips. Dark red on the inside, blending with a light brown nude matte lipstick you loved wearing. 24 hours effect, of course. You planned on drinking as much as you could and your makeup needed to still be there once the night was over!

When you were satisfied with your makeup, you took your fishnets tights and the burgundy velvet dress, heading to get dressed. The dress hugged your curves perfectly - and you were very proud of them, of course, knowing that all that time you spent working out wasn't for nothing. The barely-there straps fell into a beautiful, plunged neckline, showing just enough cleavage. The dress ended mid-thigh, letting your tattoo be seen. It had a V-shaped cut on the back, ending in a zipper that went until almost the hem of the dress. It showed your back tattoo beautifully, the color complementing the cherry blossom art. It was perfect, simple as that. With the nude fishnets with tiny strass rocks, a matching velvet choker with golden details and your black high heeled boots, it was the best look you wore all year, and it only got you more excited for what was to come - you felt like you could do anything.

You texted your group chat, knowing it was almost time to leave. The boys told you your name was on the list and they were already heading that way. You took one last look in the mirror, adjusting your cleavage and messing your hair a bit. After preparing the house for your late night guests, you took your dark blue jean jacket, your black clutch and had a shot of soju to get started.

Once you got out of the elevator, Hongjoong texted you to let you know they were already there and settled. Your stomach was flipping from how excited you were. The thought of a great night had you with a smile stuck on your face. Your taxi arrived while you were writing back, so you just said you'd be there in five and got in the car.

Inside the fairly packed club, you went to the back and talked to the bouncer to be let into the secluded VIP area. You could see the boys sitting at a sofa with three tables, up the stairs, looking every bit as handsome as you could remember, if not more. God really had His favorites and all eight of those boys made the list. It was unfair how they looked effortlessly beautiful, as if they owned the place - and if they told anyone that, no one would even doubt it. It just served as a reminder that they really belonged in the public eye. It'd be a waste if they did anything else - not to mention how talented they are, of course.

Hongjoong was the first to catch your attention. His bright blue hair contrasted perfectly with his all black look. He wore black dress shoes, combined with dress pants and a half-buttoned black dress shirt. The sleeves were rolled up, turning the fancy outfit into a great choice for a fancy club. His hair was pushed back, and his earrings shone in the low, reddish light of the space. To top it off, he wore a gold chain and a leather choker. His light makeup, a mix between his stage aura and his street looks, complemented his look incredibly well.

To his left, Mingi sat, relaxing back into the leather sofa with a drink in hand. His a-bit-too-long blonde fringe was tossed to the side, with hairspray making sure it wouldn't fall in his eyes. Also wearing all black, he sported a tight turtleneck, showing his slim body well. With a suit jacket clashing with his black, ripped skinny jeans and dress shoes, he looked like he belonged in a runaway. He laughed at something the eldest said, pulling a bit at his collar.

Seonghwa was laughing and kept talking, inclined to the front. His tye-dye blue button-up had at least five buttons unbuttoned, showing a little of his toned chest - he seemed to have gained a nice bronze hue while on tour. He wore light jeans and casual shoes. His hair was also parted to the side, still sporting silver highlights. His earrings dangled as he laughed, and his rings drew attention to his elegant hands.

Yeosang sat at Hongjoong's right side, seeming preoccupied with his phone while his hyungs conversed. His blonde mullet was partially covered by a red beanie. He wore a jean jacket with black, ripped pants. They had something written in black and red letters, clearly a designer piece. Beneath his jacket was a white, printed shirt. His pants ended in a simple, dark blue sneaker. Although he sported a loose demeanor, his face showed he was a bit anxious. It had been a long time since they went out at home, and it seemed like he would take a bit longer to really relax.

Jongho was at his side, trying to get his attention. His bright, copper hair fit perfectly with the club environment. His feet were moving to the beat of whatever song was on, his dress shoes shining every now and then under the high table. He wore a simple, black shirt, complemented by black, ripped, skinny jeans. They seemed to be the groups' favorite clothing item lately. Over it all, he wore a velvet, mustard jacket. It matched his hair and skin tone just right, and he didn't look as much like the cute maknae anymore.

Seonghwa turned to Yunho, who seemed focused on trying to understand what they were talking about. As soon as the eldest talked to him, he opened a big smile, closing his eyes and tossing his head back in a heartfelt laugh. His simple, golden necklace was shaking along with his chest while he tried to calm down. His white, low cut shirt showed his collarbones, his skin also golden after the time abroad. Over it he wore a black leather jacket, with small details on the sleeves and on the shoulders. He was wearing black, bomber pants, with big pockets on both sides and a small chain on the right side. His black and white dancing sneakers were also being beat along with the music, and he never looked so relaxed. He's light, pink hair was a bit messy, probably suffering from the amount of times he ran his hand over it, pushing it back - the same gesture he was repeating now, making his grandpa's ring appear in the low light.

San was standing up, facing the crowd downstairs while leaning on the balcony and moving his hips slightly to the music, like the movement came naturally to him - which seemed to be the utmost truth. His light look seemed to contrast with the rest of the group. While everyone seemed to rely on black for at least a piece or two, he wore a cream, dress shirt, unbuttoned in the same pattern as the others. He paired it with highwaisted, almost white jeans and white sneakers. His blonde, ash hair was a little longer, and fell perfectly over his face while he looked around. His gold earrings matched with his bracelets and chain, and no matter how shinning the objects were, they couldn't stand a chance over his chilled smirk; lips moving slowly, mouthing the lyrics to the song being blasted at the moment.

While he was distracted, Wooyoung came up to him with two shots of soju, scaring his groupmate in a friendly way. They laughed together, and Wooyoung tossed his dark brown hair back, before taking the shot. He licked his lips and smiled, saying something you couldn't understand from where you were standing. He also wore long earrings, matching with a few leather bracelets. He sported a light blue jean ensemble, but his jacket looked long forgotten on the sofa. His white shirt clinged to his body perfectly, and the rolled sleeves over his shoulder highlight his arms - he clearly had been working out. His black, leather belt was the only dark item he wore. The white converse sneakers seemed to be brand new, shining with a light red tone thanks to the lighting of the area. He looked around, as if searching, and his eyes landed on you, on the bottom of the stairs, trying to get the bouncer's attention. Although you couldn't exactly hear him, you could see clearly what he mouthed, while smirking.

"Noona!"

You looked at him and laughed, pointing at the bouncer and making a mock annoyed face. He didn't say anything, just smiled back and started to walk slowly towards you. He seemed to eye you up and down, trying to figure out what you were wearing and failing - you were surrounded by a few people and the bouncer covered you almost completely.

"Excuse me! Hi!" you said, flashing a friendly smile. "My name is on the list, I'm-"

"With us," before you could finish, Wooyoung butted in, finally reaching you. "You can let her in."

The bouncer only nodded and stepped aside, letting you through to the VIP area. You took a few steps but were stopped by Wooyoung, who then took two back to look at you in the dim, mock corridor light.

"Fuck, noona, this is definetly new," he smirked. "You look amazing."

"Look at you, swearing like this!" you laughed, slapping him lightly on the shoulder and smirking back. "I'd twirl for you, baby, but I don't wanna have to do it twice, so you'll have to wait just a bit."

"Why not just for me? I thought I was special," he joked.

"You are, but I'm also too anxious to see all of you to waste time under the stairs."

"You hurt me like this!"

"Come on, now. I need to see how everyone will react to this look. It took me long to look this good!"

"I missed you too much, you know?" he laughed and hugged you.

He pulled you by the hand, heading upstairs towards their booth. The anticipation of seeing all of them again made you nervous and excited at the same time; your stomach turning. You could see their confused looks when Wooyoung climbed the stairs turning to realization when they saw he was bringing someone along. It seemed to take them a beat to recognize you - the last time you saw each other was a messy sleepover that probably ruined your reputation with them forever, and the same the other way around.

San took a step closer, saying your name happily and coming in for a hug. You gladly held him back, smiling back at him. Once he let you go he mimicked Wooyoung's action from a moment before, stepping back and looking at what you were wearing. All the boys called for you and you laughed, joyous to be with them again after so long.

"How's our late-birthday boy tonight?" you said, smiling at Jongho.

"Pumped to start celebrating!" he smiled back.

"You look great, noona!" Hongjoong added, smiling fondly at you.

"My, my! Thank you, Hongie. You guys look amazing, as always! It must be exhausting to look so good all the time," they laughed, a few standing up to come and hug you. "Before you mess my outfit hugging the life out of me, I promised Woo a twirl."

"The runaway is yours," Mingi joked.

"Oh well, if it is, I'll make it count."-you tossed your hair back, placing your clutch on one of the tables.

Taking a step back, almost leaning on the balcony, you took your jacket off. The dress looked even better with the red and blue light shining over it, and your fishnets were glowing perfectly with the rocks reflecting the light. You tossed your jacket playfully at San, who just smirked and placed it on the sofa, next to Wooyoung's. You twirled slowly, making a few poses and putting your hair to the side, falling over your front, on the left.

You started to walk towards them, swaying your hips and smiling; certainly enjoying the playful atmosphere. With a final 180 turn, showing your back tattoo and looking back, you finally head towards the sofa, hiding your face with an embarrassed smile while the boys laughed and clapped at you.

"God, I missed you all so, so much," you laughed, trying to look at all of them and take them in.

"We missed you too," Yeosang answered, smiling softly. "And now we can start this party."

"Of course! Thanks for waiting for me."

"It's not like we had to wait for long. And we did get a head start on the drinking part, so you should try and match us, noona!" Seonghwa said while pouring you two shots of soju.

"Can you guys stop calling me that?" you groaned. "I'm only two years older than you, Hwa! You make me feel like a grandma when you keep calling me 'noona'. I have a name and you're more than welcome to use it."

"The more you get mad about it, the more we're gonna use it and you know it," Yunho said, laughing while he looked at his phone.

"Okay! Rule one of the night, created specially because of Yeosang and Yunho!"-both of them looked at you the second you mentioned their names-"Cellphones on the table! Come on, guys. I haven't seen you in forever and we're celebrating tonight. Together! Let's forget about the whole virtual world for a while now, okay?"

"Now you sound like a grandma," Yeosang said back, but he let go of his phone anyway, a small smile betraying him.

"Yunho?" you said, expectantly.

"Fine, fine. You're right. Let's get this started."

"Yay!" you cheered. "You've made me happier already. Now let's start drinking!"

You tossed back both soju shots, smiling devilish while pouring two more. After finishing filling up your cups, you served everyone else, two bottles gone in a blink. Before you knew it, you were on your fifth round, and switching to fancy cocktails you had a hard time pronouncing. It was always clear that you handled alcohol better than most of them, so you passed their number in no time.

"Who wants to dance?" Wooyoung said, getting up and interrupting the small talk going around the booth. When nobody answered, he pouted. Just then, a reggaeton song came up.

"Oh, god! Me! I love this song," you replied, smiling and getting up, already dancing playfully. "Who'll join us? It's terrible to be the only ones dancing in this section!"

When silence took place again, you and Wooyoung exchanged looks and started pulling the boys, one by one, up. Some playfully tried to sit again, but you two were keen on getting everyone on the dance floor on the upstairs area, hoping it would help the group loosen up.

"You're almost taller than me today, if feels weird," Hongjoong said, laughing.

"Oh, stop." you said, smiling softly at him. "Don't tease me or I'll wear the 6 inch heels next time!"

"It feels like ages since I last danced like this," he said, a few moments later, holding your hands and dancing terribly on purpose.

"There's no better way to dance," you answered, matching his steps.

"I can think of a lot of ways that are better than this mess!" Seonghwa laughed.

"But you wouldn't want it any other way, right?" you clapped back, smiling. "Me neither."

A strong hip hop song came on, and you, Mingi and Yunho shared wide grins, already going to the middle of the semi circle your group had formed. The beat was dropping heavily, and Mingi was the first one to start dancing to it, strong steps, smooth body rolls and a lot of teasing. Yunho soon followed, twerking intensely while Mingi started to do the same. They were laughing too hard, and the rest of the boys seemed to be having a great time just watching. You walked up to the two boys, holding Mingi's left shoulder and Yunho's right one, starting to sway your hips to the intense beats. Soon you were twerking to it, and the boys playfully clapped, starting to drop to the music, soon coming up again and crowding you.

You couldn't help but laugh at the mess your group was. Yunho started twerking again, this time pulling you to do the same. When he started to go down again, you pointed accusingly at him while the rest of the boys cheered him and Mingi on.

"It's not fair!" you said, pouting. "This dress doesn't let me do that and you know it."

"Come on, noona," Mingi said, pulling you and trying to make you follow his moves. "Show him what you got!"

Laughing, you pushed him back and started to swirl your hips, gradually going down until your hands almost touched the floor. There, you ran your hands through your hair, pushing its length up while looking up at the boys, grinning. You did a 180 turn and got up, pushing your bottom back and throwing your hair to your left side, looking back at Mingi's and Yunho's faces as they cheered for you. As a final touch, you slapped your right hip playfully, winking at them.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Jongho said, laughing. "Now it's a party."

You pulled the youngest to the space Yunho and Mingi were occupying moments before, dancing happily with him while a hype song came on. He blushed a soft pink when you and Yeosang started to dance around him. It wasn't long before the rest of the group started doing the same, some holding cups, drinking and laughing at his reaction.

The nine of you seemed to dance forever before sitting down again, looking at the other few booths on the VIP section. You couldn't recognize anyone there, but you knew that they had money or were influential in a way. You always enjoyed going to that club with the boys, knowing you could trust the space and the staff not to say a thing about their visits. They always seemed more comfortable there, and that was more than enough reason for turning it into your meeting spot.

Mingi got up to order another round of cocktails for the table, as well as some appetizers. Some of the boys were starting to get tipsy, and looking adorable with pinkish cheeks and relaxed smiles. You weren't sure of much, especially during your time working abroad, but you were sure of one thing: you absolutely adored them. Just seeing them happy and loosening up was more than enough to get your mood better, already forgetting about the nasty day you had at work.

"I love you guys," you said, smiling.

"Are you getting drunk, noona?" Jongho said, laughing. The rest of the boys soon followed.

"Of course not! Don't forget I'm always the only sober one at the end of the night when we drink together!" you huffed, faking an annoyed look. "I just… Really miss you guys sometimes. You know I'm too soft for my own good."

"All jokes aside, we love you too. Now don't get all soft and mushy, we still have a long way to go tonight! It's not even 1am yet," Hongjoong laughed and hugged you, pulling you close on the sofa.

"I know, I know. Where's Mingi with the drinks anyway?"

"Someone missing me already?" Mingi said, sitting on your right side.

"More like missing the drinks you went to get."-everyone laughed at your answer, while Mingi fake pouted.-"What are your plans for the night, by the way?"

"What do you mean?" Yeosang asked.

"Well, you know my apartment is ready for you guys either way, but I can see some girls in other booths looking over every now and then. So, are you planning on meeting someone tonight or just chilling?"

"Noona!" Jongho said, mock scandalized. "We're not here for that."

"What? It doesn't hurt to ask! I just don't wanna be surprised like before, you know?" you said teasingly, looking at San. "When a certain someone met a girl at the bathroom line and disappeared for an hour while we were planning on heading out."

"You can't blame me!" San said.

"Never! But it's good to be prepared, so we don't end up asking the bouncers for help again."

"We're not leaving anyone behind tonight, we're just here to chill and celebrate," Hongjoong said.

"Alright, alright! Don't beat me for asking," you laughed, and everyone got quiet for a beat too long, using their glasses as a distraction.

"What about you?" Yunho said.

"What about me?" you asked, confused.

"What's your plan?"

"My plan is to have the best night ever with my boys, of course!" you laughed. "Why'd you ask? No one's ever flirted with me when I was with you, guys. I bet people think we're in a crazy, kinky relationship or something."-all the boys laughed at that, looking at the scandalized waiter that came with your drinks as you said that.-"Oh, god. I'm sorry!"

"You turned a few heads tonight, noona. Maybe you should open your eyes before saying no one'll flirt with you," Wooyoung said, smirking again.

"When? Where? Show me!" you joked. "It's been ages since I flirted, might as well get back in the game tonight."

"There's a guy on the booth to your left that's been looking at you since we danced," San added.

You looked around, finding a few guys sitting next to you. One of them caught your attention. He had black hair, a lip ring and a tattoo sleeve. He seemed to be really tall, considering he filled the sofa with his long legs, clad in skinny ripped and stained jeans. His large shirt was tucked into the front of his jeans, and the collar fell off his shoulder, revealing a bit of his chest tattoo. He seemed a bit older than you, around 25 years old, maybe.

He looked exciting. You were definitely interested. And as he returned your gaze, you could see that so was he.

"I think I'm in love," you half joked.

"Noona!" Jongho said, laughing and drinking a bit more, looking clearly tipsy.

"Woo, baby," you said, looking at him. "Won't you dance with me again, seriously this time?"

"Why him?" Yunho butted in.

"We all know that Woo has no limits, and neither do I," you laughed. "He won't mind playing around a bit to help me see if I can really catch that guy's attention."

"Noona," Wooyoung smirked, "of course I'll be your partner in crime. Just be careful not to change your target after it."

"You're too full of yourself sometimes," you said, smirking back. "I love it."

Wooyoung laughed and got up, offering you his hand while one of The Weeknd's hits started to play. You gladly took his hand, getting up slowly and turning towards the table, sending a smile to the guys one last time before heading close to the balcony with him - a great spot to put on a show for your crush for the night.

Maybe it was the alcohol rushing through your veins, or the thrill of having someone's attention, but you knew you were treading dangerous waters, with no life jacket, and were loving every tiny second of it. As you and Wooyoung started to get closer, you could feel heat rushing to your cheeks. At the same time, "Try Me" was being blasted through the club's speakers, fueling your resolution.

You weren't a great dancer compared to the group of performers, but you knew very well how to move your body to sensuous beats. And that's what you did. As Wooyoung took a step back, you started rocking towards him, moving your hips slowly, fitting the song as perfectly as you could while balancing on your huge heels - your pride and joy, being able to walk on them so gracefully.

He looked at you with a challenging gaze, a slow smirk showing on his handsome face. If you didn't value their friendship so much, you knew all of those boys would be huge trouble in your life. And since you and Wooyoung played this game more often than not, you knew that he and San would ruin your every resolution if you let them.

Once you got close enough to him, chest to chest, he started moving his hips in sync with yours. Slowly going down and coming back, coming too close to your face. So close you could feel his breath tickling your cheek. You smiled at him, whispering a "nice" in his ear. You then turned around, pressing your back to his front and placing his hands on your hips. You started moving again, slowly, feeling the beat rushing through you. He held your hips a bit tighter, closer.

You pushed back just a little bit, earning a hiss and a small laugh from him. Every movement he made seemed to fuel yours, becoming more and more certain, as if you were starting to lose yourselves to the music and it's sensual atmosphere. He moved one of his hands up your arms, a touch barely there, and held onto your shoulders, stopping the movement of his hips so he could mold himself into yours. You melted into the rhythm and kept dancing until the song ended.

"You're dangerous tonight," he said after you stopped dancing.

"So are you, Woo," you whispered back. "You shouldn't go around playing games you can't finish."

When he was about to answer, Yunho interrupted you two, leaning on the balcony.

"You seem keen on getting that guy's attention," he said, nonchalantly.

"Some attention is never bad," you answered, looking at him.

"He was paying attention, alright."-he stepped closer, while Wooyoung excused himself, saying he'd get another drink.-"Dance with me next."

"What? You think dancing with another guy is a good idea?"

"Well, if you only dance with Wooyoung, he'll think you're together."-you hit yourself on the forehead lightly, mouthing an "of course".

"I don't see why not. We're here to have fun, right?" you said, but a bit unsure.

"If attention is all you want, I can help you just fine."

"Alright! Let's do this," you said, rushing to the table to down another shot and running back in his direction.

On the corner of your eye, you could see the guy sitting there, looking at you as if trying to figure out what was going on. He was wearing a firing smirk, laid back on the sofa, curious about what you were going to do next. A surge of courage made you meet his gaze and smile softly at him. You turned back to Yunho, pulling him by the hands, and started dancing again.

Katie's "Remember" started playing, and before you could make a move, he started dancing around you, crowding your space in the best way possible. His moves were calculated, playing with you, teasing you. He started moving on his own, and you stood there, as if hypnotized by him. His eyes never left yours, and he looked like a man on a mission, starved and on his last chance to get his fill. He touched you every now and then, holding your hands, guiding them to his chest while he put his on your hips after. When he got close to your face, you held him by his shirt, pulling, a challenge written all over your face as the chorus came up.

You placed your legs around one of his, his thigh dangerously close to your sex, keeping one hand on his neck and another leading one of his to your hips. Then, you rested it on his shoulder, while his left hand hovered around your back, light touches every now and again. You started to sway your hips to the beat, small body waves connecting your chests while his breathing seemed to quicken. Yours soon followed, and for a second you even forgot what you were doing and why. Just then, you saw the mysterious guy searching for your eye. With more determination than before, you started grinding on Yunho, looking at the guy and smiling slowly. You could feel Yunho accepting every move you made, completing it with his own.

He held onto you, his hands fisting on the soft fabric of your dress, hinching the hem up a bit, showing more of your skin, only for him - since he had you almost pressed against the balcony, his huge figure covering yours. He ran one of his hands over your cheek, stopping on your neck and going to the back of your head, ready to pull you even closer, even if it felt impossible. He then turned you with that hand, passing your head under his arm and never letting go of you. As you were turning, you met eyes with the stranger again.

He started walking towards you as the song reached its end. Yunho was breathing heavily, his head resting on your shoulder and his hands still clinging you to him. That is, until your target interrupted you.

"Think you can save one of these dances for me?" he said, his voice husky and intoxicating. Yunho looked at you and then at the guy before turning and heading back to your booth, saying something to himself you couldn't quite understand.

"Depends on whether you're worth my time," you smirked at him, joking, feeling confident after dancing with your friends. "As you could see, I had very skilled partners before."

"I promise I'm more than worth your time," he said. "I'm Choi Seon, by the way. I'm 27."

"Seon… Nice to meet you," you said, relishing in how nice his name felt on your lips, although it felt like your voice had disappeared. "I'm 24."

"No name?" he laughed.

"Not just yet."-you smiled, glad he was older than you. You were tired of being called noona all night by your teasing friends.

"I'll just have to call you babe," he smirked.

"Let's dance, then, Seon?"

You didn't have to say it twice. He smiled down at you, seemingly even taller than Yunho, and pulled you in with strong, sure arms. You held onto his shoulders, starting to feel a little shy under his heated gaze. The reality of everything was starting to hit you, your confidence fading a bit. As if he could sense if, he started to move you along with him, pulling you back under his spell.

His hands traveled over your body, one pulling you even closer by your lower back while the other guided your hips, making you follow the movement of his own. You felt wild, carnal. As if you two were the only there, and everything that was left unsaid was too dangerous to be announced; prohibited thoughts rushing through your head as you let yourself go under his lead.

He spun you around, carefully touching your waist and passing his hand just under your cleavage. You were too far gone to care. You started moving with more confidence, pressing your back against him. He put your hair to your side, over your shoulder, and kissed the spot between your neck and your collarbone. You moved your head back, relishing in the feeling of his lips on your skin. You turned around again then, taking a small step back while tracing your hands from your hips, up to your waist and to the straps of your dress, finishing with a raise of your head, hands sliding through your hair, making you look just as far gone as you felt. He put his hands on your waist and pulled you close again, smiling and kissing the corner of your lips. You closed your eyes for a while, feeling the music and enjoying the trance you were in.

When you opened your eyes, you could see Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi and Yunho looking directly at you. What rushed over you was hard to place. While you felt incredibly embarrassed, a part deep inside you was turned on by the erotic, forbidden feeling of everything. This was a new, dangerous sensation, and you didn't know how to deal with it. Seon, ever so observing, seemed to have read your confusing feelings, smirking at you knowingly. The song was ending, and you didn't know if you'd ask for another one or run away. Turns out you didn't have a chance to do either, as he tilted your head so you could look into his eyes and, ever so slowly, as if teasing you, kissed you.

You couldn't remember the last time you were kissed, especially like this. He kissed you like he was savoring you, and you just melted in his arms. When his lips parted from yours, they fell into another knowing smile.

"Was it worth your time?" he said and you breathed in, not sure how to respond. Your thoughts seemed to be scrambled, so you did what you wanted and kissed him again.

This was already the wildest night you lived in a very long time, if not ever. You were doing things you never thought you would, letting yourself pretend for a night that you're the confident woman that gets who she wants, when she wants. Not the shy, terrible at romance and everything else woman you usually were. Not the one who doesn't even remember the last time she had a date, much less caught a guy's attention long enough to be approached. Way before coming to South Korea, that's for sure. After your first - and only - relationship turned out to be a complete fail, you never tried anything again. Every connection you had with men after that was fully platonic.

With that idea in mind, you let him lead you to his booth, his friends gone to the dance floor on the first floor. You looked at your friends and they smiled, some even hollering, causing your cheeks to blush a dark pink. Seon just smiled down at you, pretending he didn't notice it so you wouldn't be even more embarrassed. You were definitely grateful for that.

While you sat, he tried to start a conversation with you. You looked around the space, as if in a daze, your ears filled by the sound of your heart beating erratically in your chest. You knew your breathing was uneven, and you looked a bit disheveled after dancing so close to him. As hard as you tried to concentrate on what he was saying, your emotions were betraying you, leaving you confused and unable to focus on whatever it was he asked you. His husky laugh was what brought you back to reality.

"I lost you for a while there, didn't I?" he asked, still laughing.

"I'm sorry!"-you blushed furiously, the effect of your actions on the dance floor wearing out-"I guess I'm a bit out of it. What was it you said again?"

"I asked if you'd like a drink."

"That would be great, actually."

"What were you having?" - he asked, looking at one of the bartenders.

"Just soju is fine! I like to keep it simple."-you laughed, finally mustering the courage to look him in the eyes again.

"Seeing that you came with so many men, I'd have to disagree with that."-his comment seemed to put you out, a confused looked crossing your face.-"I'm not judging, just curious."

"We're friends, that's all..." you trailed off. "They've been working too hard for the past months, so we're celebrating a few birthdays today."

"You seem pretty close."

"They're basically my only friends here." you whispered, smiling softly.

"Have you been living here for long?"

"For almost two years, now. It's quite different from home, that's for sure."-he laughed at that, and you soon followed.

"It may be. From the way you dance… It looks like you're from a 'freer', 'looser' place."

"I see..." you said, taking a sip of your drink and trying to think of a way to keep the conversation flowing that didn't include not-so-charming comments on your origins. "I'm terrible at this, oh my god!"

"At what?" he laughed, confused.

"I can't believe I said this out loud. Okay," you said, blushing. "It's just been a long time since I've done anything like… this"-you motioned between you.

"You're cute," he smiled. "You're blushing and nervous around me, even though you kissed me and danced with me like you wanted to tear my clothes off."-he ran his hand over your arm, up to your shoulder, sending goosebumps across your skin.-"And your cheeks are burning, but you're still looking at me like you can't wait to kiss me again."

"You're cracking your head trying to read me, now?" you joked.

"You're interesting to me, that's all. Maybe we should dance more to see if you can get more comfortable."

"I don't think dancing will have that effect on me right now."

He laughed and you smiled back at him. You took the time to look over to your booth, seeing the boys deep in conversation, still drinking happily. Some looked your way every once in a while, and you started to feel a little guilty for ditching them on your first time together in months.

"Don't you wanna sit with us?" you asked Seon, looking at him expectantly. "I don't wanna spend the rest of the evening away from my friends."

"Do you think they'll be okay with it?" he asked you back, looking over to your tables.

"Of course! They're super chill,"-you smiled-"you'll see. Let's go!"

You got up and pulled Seon by his hand, walking towards your booth. All the boys stopped talking and looked up at you, perhaps wondering why you were bringing him over. Hongjoong motioned for Yeosang and Yunho to scoot over, giving you and Seon space to sit as you arrived at the table.

"Thanks, guys," you smiled down at them, sitting beside Hongjoong while Seon sat to your right. "This is Choi Seon!"

"Hi, there. Nice to meet you all."

The group nodded at him, introducing themselves one at a time.

"You seem familiar," Seon said, and you exchanged looks.

"We're no one important," San smiled.

"You're really good dancers," Seon added.

"We had a good partner," Wooyoung said, smiling at you.

"Tell me about it. I saw from up close how hard it is to keep up with her."

"Oh, please. I'm far from that," you laughed at them. "The boys are the professionally trained ones, I just used whatever advantage I had to measure up."

"You surely have lots of those," Seon smirked, running his hand over your knee and up to the hem of your dress. You slapped his hand playfully. "Do you come here often?"

"Not really," you replied. "We come here when we can, which isn't as often as I'd like."

"We're always working, so it's hard to get time out of our schedules," Mingi completed.

"I know how that feels," Seon nodded. "But I always try to come here with the guys. It's a great spot."

"We like it a lot too," you smiled at him. "I'll order us some more drinks. Four bottles of soju are okay, right?"

"Seems like a good number to keep this going," Yeosang laughed, his cheeks colored from the amount of alcohol he had already drank.

Once you got the bottles on the table, you poured shots to everyone, some mixing theirs with beer, and took yours. Seon poured you another one, and you happily drank it too, feeling the heat from the alcohol keeping you in the perfect space between sober and drunk. You could tell some of the boys were already crossing that bridge, and were glad to see them having fun.

From there on, conversation seemed to flow easily between you two, occasionally including one or two of the boys in your discussions. Seon's friends came back up and sat on their own booth, acknowledging him and your table while passing.

"I'll go talk to the guys for a bit and come back, okay?" Seon said, lips close to your ear to make sure you could hear him well enough.

"Okay, I'll be here," you smiled at him, and he took the opportunity to kiss the corner of your lips again.

Once he left, all the boys turned no-so-subtly at you.

"So, noona..." San said. "Are you going to be the one to ditch the group today? How the tables have turned!"

"Oh come on! It's not like I'll leave you guys alone!" you laughed, looking around the space.

"Not now, anyway. But by the way he's looking at you, you'll probably be leaving together real soon," Mingi chimed in, looking at Seon as he said something to his friends and laughed.

"Are you going to leave with him?" Yunho asked, looking a bit startled by the possibility.

"Guys! Stop! It's not like that..." you trailed off. "I think? Or is it? God, I definitely need to get better at this. It's been too long since I even thought about doing this."

"We're still going back to yours, right?" Hongjoong asked, looking worried.

"Of course! I'd never leave you hanging. The worst that could happen would be me giving you my keys and everything. My apartment is basically yours now, anyway."

"You can't do that!" Jongho said. "Are you seriously considering ditching?"

"I thought we would hang after, watch movies and talk, or something," Seonghwa added. "You know, continue the celebration through the weekend, like we said before."

"I don't know..."-you looked back over Seon's booth.-"Would I be a terrible person if I did it?"

"Basically." Yunho said, matter of factly.

"No!" Wooyoung said at the same time.

"Seriously, though… I'd still be back in the morning, right? We could do all that tomorrow. I'll cook you lunch like I promised."

"It wouldn't be the same..." Jongho trailed off.

"You know we can't just go back to your building and whatever," Yunho continued. "Besides, you don't even know the guy! You know what? His name?"

"I'm not looking to do a background check on him! I know enough for this," you answered.

"For this as in…?" Yeosang looked at you, trying to see if you'd finish your trail of thought.

"You know! Hooking up? I don't know how you kids call it these days," you joked, trying to lighten the mood. "I've never done this before, I don't exactly know how it works. You tell me."

"He looks like he'd drop you like nothing once he got what he wants," Seonghwa said, looking concerned. "Doesn't that bother you? Even a little?"

"So what? That's what I'd want too! You do this all the time. What's wrong with me doing it too?"

"Are you seriously this stupid?" Yunho yelled at you.

"Hyung!" Jongho called after Yunho, a look of shock crossing his face and everyone else's. "He didn't mean that."

"I guess he meant naive, noona," Yeosang said, trying to fix the situation.

"No, I meant exactly what I said, and I know you're all thinking it too," Yunho said, looking directly at you.

You were fuming by now. After drinking you knew your filter wouldn't exactly work, and you could feel the words rising up and leaving your mouth before you could think of stopping.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean, huh?" you pointed at Yunho, who stared back at you with just as much anger. "You think I'm some stupid little girl, now? You think I can't handle myself? Fuck off, will ya? I can judge character just fine, and if I want to go over to his and do whatever the fuck else, you best believe I will!"

"So you're going?" Wooyoung asked, looking between you and Yunho.

"He didn't even fucking ask me yet! What's got you so angry anyway?"

"You were the one who kept babbling about this being a night for us to be all together!" Yunho answered and the boys shook their heads, agreeing with the fact, but probably not with the approach.

"I know! And it still is-"

"You were the one who kept complaining about how we were away for too long," he kept going, interrupting you. "And you were the one who even had the idea of us going over yours for the weekend."

"There's no need to get angry at me over this! I didn't even do anything yet."

"That's right, yet."-he took a deep breath, failing to stop himself from continuing.-"So what? You'll give us your keys and leave us here alone while you go to who knows where with a random guy?"

"Yunho, you should watch your tone if you don't want me to leave your fucking asses on the street," you said, looking stern and pissed off. How could he turn on you like this?

"Isn't that your intention now?"-Yunho looked like he had no intention of backing out of this argument.

"You're being so fucking childish right now. You want me to leave?"-you were practically fuming, your breathing erratic, blood pumping through your veins and wearing off the effect of your previous drinks.

"Might as well. Already got what you wanted anyway," he said, nonchalantly. You'd almost believe he didn't care if it wasn't for how hard he was staring you down.

"I hope you're stupidly drunk right now, I really do. Because this ridiculous behaviour is inexcusable."

"Noona, calm down," Seonghwa said, looking around as if he expected the guys to help him, but they remained stunned into silence.

"Me? You're telling me to calm down?" you practically screamed at him, feeling put off by how none of them even tried to defend you or intervene when Yunho was the one saying things he shouldn't. "Yunho is literally here being a slut-shaming piece of-"

"Stop!" Hongjoong exclaimed, looking around the table. Everyone returned his gaze, trying their hardest to not return yours.

"You know what? I really didn't need this tonight," you sighed, defeated. "I was so excited to go out with you guys again. I really, really missed you all a lot and-"

"Doesn't seem like it." Yunho said, almost to himself, but you certainly heard it, like he was saying it right to your face. A slap would've hurt less.

"I'm fucking tired, okay? I'm not gonna do this," you said, staring into his eyes in hopes he'd see how much he hurt you. By the way he flinched slightly, you knew he noticed it. "I had a shitty day, and I don't have to deal with this right now."

Everyone was silent, looking at you and not knowing exactly what to say. You couldn't believe how such a perfect night was ending so badly.

"I'm gonna go," you whispered. "I'm just gonna leave. You guys stay. I don't wanna be around some of you right now."

"Noona," Mingi said, reaching out to you.

"Don't you dare 'noona' me."-you pushed your arm back, already putting on your jacket and getting ready to leave.-"I'll talk to your fucking manager later, he'll figure this out for you."

You grabbed your clutch, spilling a half-drank cup of beer that was next to it on the table. You fought the urge to apologize, feeling all of your energy seep away while you took one last look at them. You didn't have anything else to say, and they seemed to feel the same way; Yunho didn't even look at you until you spoke again.

"Enjoy the rest of your night."

You didn't even bother saying goodbye to Seon. Whatever was going on between you two was over the moment the discussion started. It felt like someone had thrown a bucket of ice on you, and even so, you felt extremely hot from all the pent up anger.

You knew they were looking at your retracting figure, your steps heavy as you climbed down the stairs. The bouncer let you out of the VIP area, and you sighed a small "thank you", never stopping your steps. You felt you'd try to go back if you stopped, and your pride was more important to you at that moment. You wouldn't back down. You did nothing wrong.

Still fuming and needing to cool down, you decided to walk back home, the cold night breeze very welcomed. It hit your face, moving your hair slightly. The street was still buzzing with people, some going from one bar to the other, some conversing and drinking with friends. That's how you expected your night to go, you thought, walking faster to get away from the bright city lights.

The 20-minute walk did you good, your mood getting better after you stopped duelling on it. You were completely sober by the time you reached your building, missing the comfortable buzz you had throughout the night. As you opened your door, shoes in hand, you decided to have a glass or two of wine before going to bed. You were too nervous still to just sleep, and wine always helped you relax.

You took off your jacket, hanging it neatly on your closet, and left your purse and choker in your room, phone in hand. Going straight to the kitchen next, you frowned at the state of your living room, deciding to get the bottle of wine before stressing over the messy space, already half prepared to receive your big number of guests. You took a bag of chips from the cabinet, heading to your sofa to lie down and watch some TV.

Feeling slightly uncomfortable and stuffed in the tight dress, you opened the zipper, almost fully, making sure to turn the aircon on next. Wine glass in one hand, TV remote in the other, you browsed the Netflix catalogue, searching for a foolish movie to watch - preferably one you'd seen before, since you were sure you'd just end up using it as background noise. Not finding anything worth binge-ing, you checked your phone, absentmindedly. A part of you wished one of the boys texted you, the other wanting to do it; to at least let them know you got home fine and wish them a safe ride back to theirs.

You knew you were being petty. You also knew you weren't exactly wrong, and you fought against your pride again, thinking it'd been 40 minutes since you left them alone. Would they be able to go back home? You knew their crazy fans were still camping outside their place.

"I can still tell them to come and just stay on my own in another room or something," you said to yourself. "I don't want them to get into trouble because of me."

With your mind made up, you unlocked your phone, ready to text them that they could come over if they'd like. Still, you started typing and stopped, repeating this countless times. Nothing sounded right to you. You didn't want to be cold, but also couldn't just act like nothing happened.

"I'm definitely overthinking this."

You poured yourself another glass of the white wine, the bottle getting closer to its end way earlier than you intended. The cold liquid was working wonders in their task of calming you down. You thought best to change and remove your makeup before doing anything else, maybe looking for distractions before talking to them. You knew they'd probably still be at the club, trying to figure out how to get home or what to do to not be seen. If you knew Hongjoong well - which you did - you knew he was probably contacting a manager as you drank, and it served enough to make you feel guilty once again for leaving. You felt like crying.

Determined to be the bigger person and try to save whatever was left of the night, you took your phone again and started typing. Before you could finish the message, someone rang your doorbell. Mildly distracted, you didn't pay attention to the sound. That was, until someone started pounding at your door.

"Guys?" you asked, putting your now empty glass on the table and walking towards the door. "Who's there?"

You opened the door slowly, finding a rugged looking Yunho leaning against the frame, right hand moving to knock again.

"Yunho!" you gasped, looking him over before meeting his eye. "Where are the guys? I was just about to text you all to come over!"

He looked at you, breathing heavily, not uttering a single word. You waited for him to say something, but he remained there, leaning on the door frame, staring you down.

"It was so stupid, baby. The fight was so, so stupid," you said, starting to feel nervous again. "I don't wanna fight with any of you. You owe me an apology, but god we should've never let such a stupid argument ruin our night."-he entered the apartment, taking off his shoes as you kept talking, afraid to fall into heavy silence again.-"I wouldn't have done anything with Seon, you know? It just… felt nice. To be noticed, I mean. It felt nice to be wanted."

He started moving towards you, taking slow, small strides as you kept talking, moving to close the door.

"Yunho, please… talk to me," you begged, trying to get him to say something, anything. "Just say 'sorry'. That's all I need."

He looked strong, present, in the dim light of the living room. The small rays coming from the kitchen and the TV cast perfect shadows on his face. As he got closer, you lost track of whatever you were saying. Your mind was running a million miles per hour, wondering where the rest of the boys were, what he intended to do, and why he was looking at you like he'd want nothing more than you to stop talking.

You locked the door, using the excuse to stop staring into his intense eyes. You could feel him close to your back, his breath making your hair move slightly. Before you could ask him what he was doing so close, he placed a hand on your left shoulder, turning you towards him and pressing you against the wall, his face perfectly contrasted by the lights. He looked like sin incarnated, and you felt trapped under his spell. You tried to form words, but all you could do was gape at him, your breaths coming out a little faster every second he spent close like this.

He came closer, his right hand supporting his weight while his left took your hair off your shoulders, his face coming down to meet yours. You never felt so small close to him. His lips ghosted against your cheek, moving to your right ear. Then, he took his hand off the wall and touched your face gently, moving to touch your neck, reaching the back of your neck and entangling in your hair. He kissed the space between your ear and neck, lips grazing your ear as he finally spoke.

"Noona," he breathed the word against you, sighing at the end of it.

This word had never hit you as hard as it did. His voice, everything, made it sound like the most sinful word in your vocabulary.

He sounded like he was in pain. His whole body started trembling slightly, pressing harder against you. You gasped at the raspy sound of his voice, and he moved his head back to look at you. His eyes were heavy lidded, breathing even faster now. Yours seemed to match his, and that second lasted like an eternity.

Yunho kissed you. His lips barely touching yours, as if he was scared you'd push him back once he did it. When he saw you wouldn't, he came back down for another kiss. This time, he kissed you fiercely, with such force, as if you were water and he had spent days in a desert. Your lips pressed against his, kissing him back with just as much want, if not more.

He tugged at your hair, pulling it back to tilt your head, making his access to your lips easier. You gasped, almost moaning at the sensation, your lips parting slightly. He took advantage of that, his tongue snaking into your mouth, ready to explore you. The action seemed to pull you back to reality, and you held him hard on the shoulders, whining as if you were reluctantly having to let him go. You pushed him back softly, also scared to break the moment. He grunted, as if the act hurt him physically. His hips were pressing yours against the wall, and you moved yours automatically.

"Noona," he whispered again.

"Yunho..." you sighed and pushed him once more, needing space to be able to think. "Wh- What are you doing?"

"I..." he trailed off, taking a deep breath. "Noona, please."

"Tell me what you need," you said, trying to forget about every complication this could entail. All you could think about, all you could see, was him. And, for god, was he glorious. "Talk to me, baby."

"You," he whispered against your lips, your eyes focused on his own.

"Oh my god," you sighed, moving your head to the side.

He gave you space, although not much, afraid you'd run away once he got far enough. You looked at him, then back at the living room, trying to understand what was going on. He glanced back, seeing the wine bottle. He moved to it, taking a sip directly from it.

You were frozen into place, and he took advantage of that, bringing the almost empty bottle to you and pressing it against your lips. You drank it gladly, fueled by how he stared at your lips against the rim of it. The simple gesture never seemed so erotic.

After you finished the wine, he placed the bottle on the ground and pressed against you again. When you shied away from his gaze, he touched your chin, lifting his head to make sure you could see him as well as he could see you. He smirked at you, chest heaving, and turned you around. He grunted loudly, resting his head on your shoulder as his right hand, still cold from holding the bottle, touched your semi-open zipper.

"God, noona," he said against your skin, tickling your neck. "What were you doing before I got here."

"I..." you tried and failed to form a sentence, your face pressed against the wall, your hip moving on its own only to be held by his left hand, leaving you completely at his mercy. "I was going to change, that's all."

You moved your hands to your back, closing the zipper rapidly as a blush started creeping on your cheeks. He chuckled at that, right hand forcing yours against the wall, lips kissing your cheek. He kissed down to your shoulders, lips running over your cherry blossom tattoo - his favorite.

"There's no need to close it, noona," he whispered, sensuously. "It'll end up on the floor anyway."

"Fuck, Yunho."

"Don't," he said, breathing in slowly. "Don't say my name like that."

"Or what?" you asked, holding on to the last shreds of your sanity. "Yunho."

He pressed his hips against yours, breathing in the scent of your perfume. You gasped at the sensation, starting to lose yourself to the forbidden, dangerous situation. A small whimper left your lips, and he pressed even harder against you, right hand coming up to hold you by the hair once more, turning you around slowly as his eyes fell to your cleavage.

Yunho kissed your exposed skin, climbing from your chest to your neck. He sucked hardly, making sure to mark you as his. You hissed, right hand grabbing his hips hard as you moved yours against his, losing yourself to the sensation of his lips on your skin. He blew cold air to the place he sucked on, biting it and climbing up to your lips.

This kiss felt like the final straw. You pulled him by his shirt, closer. You wanted him as close as humanly possible. No, you needed him as close as possible. You kissed him hard, your lips taking over his, guiding him. Your hands pushed his jacket back, and he let go of you briefly, just enough to let the item fall, discarded, to the floor. You ran your hands through his hair, and he took the opportunity to pull on yours once more, holding the back of your neck just tight enough to make you moan against his lips again. He pulled your right leg up, moving harder against you.

He pressed his hips hardly against yours, and you could feel him harden, moving like he couldn't wait a second more to have you. You felt that, if you let him, he would take you right there. Hard and rough against your living room wall. Close enough to the door that you'd need to be quiet in order to not let your neighbors overhear. Just the thought of him doing so was enough to get you wet, your thighs pressing close, needing the friction.

You stopped the kiss, whispering his name as sweetly as you could, pushing him back just so you could pull him by the hand, moving towards your couch. You pushed him on it, waiting for him to settle, sitting, before climbing on his lap.

"Noona," he whispered. "What are you doing to me?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you said, smirking against his lips before kissing him again.

You placed your legs around his hips, your dress riding up your thigh, exposing your underwear. He stopped kissing you to look down, taking in the image of you completely gone over his lap, grinding down on him slowly, teasing the both of you. His hands pulled your dress higher, moving to your waist and squeezing you hard. You moaned, grinding hard on him as you went for another kiss. It felt like you spent ages just kissing, touching each other as well as you could, pressing him on the sofa as you did so.

You forced your hips down, feeling his erection against your core. It felt so crude, so raw, and oh, so big, you couldn't help but moan his name once more. He moved his hips up to meet yours, hands ripping your tights hardly as you fisted his shirt, annoyed at how the fabric was standing between you two. The sound of them ripping filled the room, your breath quickening at the action.

"Take this off," you said, commandly. "Now."

You didn't need to say it once more. He pushed you back, just enough to have space to pull the fabric off, slowly revealing his chest. You looked at him like you were starved, and he returned the gaze. His chest was glistening with sweat, and you had never seen something so beautiful. Yunho panting, looking at you, shirtless, was the sexiest scene you ever had the pleasure to witness.

"I can't wait anymore," you said, almost to yourself, as you stood up.

You pushed him back as he tried to follow, fixing your dress once again. He looked at you, confused, but his expression soon turned to one of pleasure, as you ran your hands up his thighs, getting closer and closer to his erection. You smirked at him, teasingly, and pulled him up by the belt, guiding him to your room. You were never so thankful for having a king sized bed.

He looked at you expectantly, seemingly enjoying this game of dominance you two were playing. You pushed him back on your bed, sitting on the edge of it. He tried to kiss you again, but you cut the kiss short, pushing on his chest as you started to go down on his body. He sucked in a breath just at the thought of what you were going to do.

"Noona, you have no idea of how many times I dreamed of your lips on me," he confessed, hand ruining his hair even more.

"I hope I measure up," you smirked at him, hands sliding against his legs once more. "I've dreamt about this too. Way too much."

Your hands passed over his body, coming to his pants and slowly opening the button. You climbed against his body, kissing his chest and going down, grabbing the zipper between your teeth. You looked up at him, seeing the anticipation and lust in his eyes. They made you want to do so much more, and you relished on the feeling, bringing the zipper down as painfully slow as you could. As soon as your teeth grazed his erection, he pushed his hips up, hissing. He laid back on his elbows, eyes staring at you, consuming your every move.

You finally pulled his pants down, the sight of his erection straining against his underwear more than enough to get your mouth watering. You knew there was no turning back; might as well enjoy it to the fullest. You kissed his hips, sucking softly on his skin, feeling his hands coming to touch you, before moving to his hair once more. You kissed him through the fabric and he held his breath, closing his eyes and tossing his head back.

Pulling his underwear down, you stared him in the eye, turned on by his blown out pupils. You were more than glad to see he was just as far gone as you were. There was something empowering about seeing him completely naked while you were still clothed, and you intended on taking advantage of that feeling.

"You look so beautiful," he whispered, almost to himself.

"Not as much as you," you answered, smiling. "You're a work of art."

You passed your hands up his thighs again, kissing him everywhere but where he needed you the most. His chest was heaving, his breathing shallow, eyes anticipating your every move. It was intoxicating, seeing him losing his cool over your small actions. You wrapped your hand around his erection, turned on by the curses coming out of his mouth.

Ever so slowly, you moved your lips next to his shaft, kissing his skin while moving your hand. His hand held onto your hair, pulling just enough to get you to lose it. You kissed his tip, lips enveloping him as you took your time savoring him, going down slowly until he was fully inside your mouth. The sound he let out then was wild, carnal, and you moaned against him.

He pushed his hips up slightly, as if begging you to do something, anything. You couldn't help but comply, lips going up and down on him, pace quickening. He kept moving his hips and pulling your hair, trying to meet your movements with his own.

"Fuck, noona," he cried out. "You're ruining me."

You kept going, boosted by the noises he was making, deep throating him as you felt his whole body tense under your ministrations. He was panting, desperate, and you didn't stop until you felt he was on the edge, lips popping off him; a string of saliva still connecting your bodies.

"That's my intention."

He pulled you up by the back of your neck, hands trying to touch you everywhere at once. He kissed you hard. Pressing against you, standing up once more, he ran his right hand over your back, opening your dress again. This time, he kissed your shoulders while lowering the straps, hands pushing the fabric down until you were standing in front of him wearing nothing but ruined tights and red lace panties.

Spinning you around, he could see just how small the piece was, your ass on full display for him. Just for him. He called your name at that, the first time he mentioned it the whole night. Somehow, you missed how sinful the word "noona" sounded coming out of his lips. You were almost embarrassed by how the thought of it got you even more turned on; your body betraying you as another rush of arousal left you on edge.

"Ca- call me..." you whispered. "Noona. Just that."

"I knew you liked it," he smirked, you could feel it against your back. "Noona."

He spun you around again, this time pushing you against the bed.

"You look good enough to eat, noona."

He ripped the tights even more, want taking over him. He kissed you again, pulling you by the neck close to him. You ran your hand over his back, nails scraping his skin, making him hiss against your lips. He kissed you even harder, right hand grabbing your waist and holding it hard enough to bruise. His left hand guided your hips against his erection while he pressed it to your core. You moaned his name, desire clouding your mind as you called him once more.

"Yunho, please," you pleaded, hoping he'd put an end to your suffering. "I can't take this anymore."

He got on his knees, looking directly at your core as you blushed, trying to close your legs and hide from him.

"Don't. You don't need to hide from me, noona," he said, looking into your eyes before letting his roam over your body once more. "You're too fucking beautiful."

"Yunho..." you moaned his name.

"I want to remember every moment tomorrow, noona," he kissed your stomach, looking shy. "I hope you do too."

Before you could respond, he ran his hand over your panties, teasing your clothed core. You started writhing, every nerve ending sensitive thanks to his previous actions. You felt like you couldn't take it anymore, his teasing only making you need him more. You started begging, unashamed, for him to really touch you, for him to do anything.

He started kissing down your body, going from your jaw to your collarbone; marking you. His lips hovered over one of your nipples and you lost your breath, right hand sinking into his hair as you moaned. He kissed it slowly, repeating the action on the other one. He started moving his tongue around it, blowing cold air every now and then. The other wasn't left unattended, being toyed with when he ran his hand over your chest; fingers pressing on it. You were writhing beneath him, unable to form a coherent sentence as he ravaged your body.

Once he saw you were losing control, he let go of your nipples, giving each a small peck before kissing down your stomach, stopping at your navel. You hissed, whispering his name as he looked up at you, smirking. He moved to your waist, kissing each side before falling to your hips, repeating the sucking motion you'd done on his moments before. His teeth scraped against whatever was left of your fishnets and you fisted the sheets, closing your eyes, chest heaving. He pulled at the strings, relishing in your instant reactions. He was eating up every movement, every noise, every whimper; everything you gave him.

His hands were touching your stomach and coming down to your thighs, his light touch heighting his teasing. Using both hands, he ripped the top of your tights so he could take off your panties. He pushed back down a bit more, discarding the ruined underwear, face coming close to your core. He breathed against your now naked area, and that action alone had you seeing stars. He then kissed the area slowly, tentatively tasting you. The sound you made was wild; a perfect description of how you felt once his lips connected to your body.

He started to move his tongue in circles, falling into a slow rhythm that had you begging him for more. Showing you that he heard you loud and clear, he started moving his right hand towards your centre, his left one trying to stop your hips from grinding against him. Once you finally managed to stop moving, he awarded you with faster movements, his hand already teasing your entrance. He inserted one finger into you, moving it temptatively while his tongue continued its assault.

The difference between his actions got you close to your climax in no time, and you couldn't take it anymore. You pulled him up, receiving a puzzled look - like he could tell you were almost there and was annoyed to have to stop. You squeezed his shoulders, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, pushing your hips up against his. You couldn't breathe, couldn't see anything. All you could think about was having him inside you.

"Yunho, please. I really can't take it anymore. Please, fuck me."-you pressed your hips against his once more, desperate for some kind of friction.

He pressed down on you harder, loving the sensation of your naked bodies meeting. His movements were excruciatingly slow, and you could feel him shaking against you, keen on teasing you even though he wanted you just as much. You could do nothing but follow his hands with your eyes, heart beating so fast you could barely hear him; the beats louder than the music back at the club.

As soon as you thought about the place, you whimpered. The memory of his hands running over your body, hips moving together to the beat of a sensuous song; "Dirty Dancing" a kids' show close to what you were doing. You didn't realize it then, but you could definitely feel now just how bad he wanted you, and how bad you wanted to succumb to your darkest desires. For months now you fought against your desire for him, and he seemed to have done the same. Letting go; it felt as freeing as freedom could possibly be.

"Noona," he said, forcing you to open your eyes; you hadn't even realized you closed them. "Look at me."

He looked down at you, almost naked - the last shreds of your tights still clinging to your skin - and smiled. His hands ran from your legs up to your chest, finally getting to your face. He touched your cheek softly, encouragingly, and you couldn't help but smile back at him. Just then, he started to look around, a question hanging on his face.

"I don't have any condoms," he said, pouting cutely - a big change from his previous dominant demeanor.

"Me neither," you added, although smiling. "But we don't need them."

He stared at you then, confused but intrigued.

"I'm on the pill, and I'm clean," you smiled at him. "What about you?"

"I'm… I'm clean too, noona," he sounded dumbfounded. "Are you sure about this?"

"There's no one I trust more, Yunho," you said, pressing your hips against his again. "I want you."

"Fuck, you're too perfect, noona."

He positioned himself, shaft touching your core lightly. He seemed lost in thought, so you swirled your hips again, hoping to bring back his dirty, needy expression. His right hand pressed your hips down on the bed, chest coming down to meet yours as he kissed you again, hungrily. You kissed him back, both hands behind his neck as you lost yourself to the sensation of his lips against his.

Before you could tell, he pushed inside you, to the hilt. You moaned at the sensation, hips moving again, as if they had a mind of their own. He didn't move, though. He just looked at you, trying to get used to the sensation of being inside you, revelling in your desperate movements and cries. You never looked so beautiful to him.

"Please move," you begged him. "I'm going crazy."

He started moving then, slow, sensuous thrusts hitting you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You clinged to him for dear life, every thought scaping you the moment he picked up his pace.

He kissed you again; a messy kiss, tongues trying to meet as he started to go even harder, every movement more precise than the one before. You could do nothing more than moan his name, the feeling of him filling you too good to put into words. He fit you perfectly, his expert hips only heightening the sensation. You melted against him, your hips trying desperately to match his movements as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

As if he could feel you were getting closer, he slowed down, hands pulling your hair once again as he bit your bottom lip and moaned.

"Noona," he groaned, trying to hold back.

"God, Yunho," you moaned against him. "Don't stop, please."

You wrapped your legs around his hips, feet pushing him to grind on you harder. You ran one hand over his ass, trying to touch him as much as you could, squeezing the flesh. His hands were now holding tight to your hips, so tight that you could feel bruises blossoming on your pale skin. But you didn't care. In fact, it only made you want him more, feelings and movements getting more and more frenetic.

You were getting off on the sensation of him inside you, as well as the thoughts of how many other positions you were hoping to try out with him. His dirty talking was making you lose control of your body, his gaze so erotic you fell like you could come from just looking at it. You had never felt this way before, so overcome with need, and it felt as painful as exhilarating.

He pushed your left leg back, getting even deeper than before. You cried out his name, closing your eyes with force, feeling your climax coming once again. He kept his pace this time, angling his hips to hit your spot again and again. You were already seeing stars, saying sentences that made no sense as you called out after him once more.

"Yunho," you gasped. "Oh my god."

Your high was powerful and numbing. You couldn't focus on nothing other than his grunts, telling you he was close too. You fought the overstimulation, moving your hips to meet his as you asked him to finish inside you. It seemed to be enough to push him off the edge, and soon he was biting your shoulders, coming undone.

He reluctantly got off of you, laying beside you and pulling you close. You were still shaking from the aftermath, and he kissed you tenderly on the temple before nuzzling into your hair. This sweet behaviour was a strong contrast to his actions, and as soon as doubts started to creep over you, his lips made sure to shut them down.

You kissed him back, slowly, trying to figure out how to voice your thoughts. He pulled back slightly, smiling against your cheek as he laid a small kiss there, then turning your face up to look at him. He passed his right hand through his hair, suddenly nervous. His left hand kept drawing small circles on your left shoulder, matching the movements of yours against his chest.

"I'm sorry, noona," he whispered, sounding small.

"It's okay, baby," you smiled. "We're okay."

"I just..." he trailed off, as if lost in thought, a small smile creeping once more. "I don't know how it all escalated so quickly."

"Jealousy doesn't fit your image," you joked, snuggling against him. "That's for sure."

"God, I was such an asshole,"-he held you tighter. "I don't even know why."

"Yeah, you were," you laughed. "But we're good now."

"Really?"

"I mean, you're lying naked on my bed at god-knows-what hours. You tell me!"

"I'd say we're great, then."

He looked down at your entangled bodies, eyes changing once more as he focused on your breathing. Leaning down to kiss you again, he used his right hand to lift your body, still on his side, just a little bit. Enough to kiss you more fiercely, needy. You pulled back, smiling, before kissing his jaw, cheek, and then his lips once more.

He ran his right hand over your side, soft touches between your hips and waist. You whined softly against his lips, the sound escaping before you could stop. He looked at you, desire returning to his eyes as he started kissing your jaw. His switched between kissing and biting your sensitive skin, your right hand grabbing his hair hard as your body started to react to his actions. Then, he pressed his hips on yours, his erection standing firm between your bodies as you gasped.

"Already?" you asked, making him press harder. "You're spoiling me."

"I can't help it," he laughed, nibbling your skin once again. "You're so hot, noona."

He sucked harshly on your collarbone, a purple mark already starting to show as he blew against the spot and kissed it. You pulled his head towards yours, kissing him like your life depended on it. At the heat of the moment, it really felt like it did. The feeling of how well his body reacted to yours spurting you on as you succumbed to want.

He started to turn to get on top of you, kissing you harder by the second. You pressed your left hand firmly on his chest, not letting him do so. He looked at you, confused, before you pulled him to you and kissed him again, tongues fighting for dominance. This time, he let you win, and you explored his mouth lazely, trying to control your pace.

As he tried once more to get on top of you, you pressed him hard against the bed, left leg moving over to straddle him without interrupting the kiss. As soon as you settled on the new position, his erection pressing against your inner thigh, you rolled your hips.

"Fuck," he cried out, hands holding onto your waist. "Do that again."

Once he saw you didn't move, nor would reply, he tried to roll his hips up to meet yours.

"Please, noona," he begged. "Please just-"

Before he could finish his sentence, you rolled your hips again, harder this time. He hissed loudly, throwing his head back as his chest lifted from the bed. His hips started to move up, meeting yours as you kept grinding down on him. You smiled at how fucked up he looked, knowing that any remaining effects of your previous drinks were far gone; you were doing this to him.

The realization hit you fast, and you moaned as you ceased your movements, hands balancing your weight on his chest. He looked at you, desperate, and you kissed him hard. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing the flesh as he tried to make you start moving your hips again. Your right hand started caressing his skin, tracing his collarbone and going lower, lower, until you reached his shaft. It felt warm and heavy on your hand, and you held it tightly, earning a string of curses from the younger boy. You teased him, kissing him hungrily.

When you felt his chest moving hard, breaths getting erratic, you stopped kissing him and, ever so slowly, sank down on him. You didn't move until you felt he was fully inside you, finally opening your eyes to see that his were glued to where your bodies met. You temptatively moved against him, hips rolling as you got used to his length in this new position.

He gripped your hips hard, not knowing if he wanted to make you move faster or to stop them completely. All you knew was that he looked ruined, and you loved it. The power you felt of being able to make him feel this way was enough to get you to start moving a little faster, hips sensuously rolling against his.

"Noona," he moaned. "I'm not gonna last if you keep going like this."

"Me neither," you confessed, grinding faster.

He started to lift his hips to meet yours, getting deeper inside you. You moaned his name, never stopping your rolling motion as you got lost in the sensation, in how good he felt like this. The sounds of him fucking into you were lewd and intoxicating, taking over your small bedroom. He held you even tighter, your nails raking against his chest and lips biting on his neck as you fell on top of him, body unable to keep going and giving in to pleasure.

He started to move faster, harder, searching for his release too. You squeezed him involuntarily, the motion enough to have him screaming for you as he climaxed, hands slowly rubbing your sore hips and thighs. You stood on top of him until your breathings got even, the glint of sweat making him look even more beautiful to you as you pushed from his chest.

You excused yourself, legs feeling like jelly as you tried to go to the bathroom to get cleaned up. The simple action took you a lot longer than normal, your body still coming down from the intense sex you'd just had.

Laying down on the bed again, he pulled you closer, not wanting to let go of you. You kissed his chest as he ran his hand on your hair, the act feeling more intimate than anything else you did that night. You could feel him smiling, a small laugh rumbling from his chest as he kissed your forehead.

You weren't sure of how things would be in the morning, but you knew that you felt safe in his embrace, and that was more than enough for now. His slowing breathing lulled you to sleep, limbs numb from how intense you had each other. He held you tightly against his chest, a soft smile crossing his face as he soon fell asleep too.

In the morning, you got up before him. Nothing new, considering he was a sleepyhead. You took a nice, warm shower, remembering your actions of the previous night. You were glowing, sated from how well he took you. You couldn't stop smiling.

Wearing nothing but your nightgown, you headed to the room to see if he was up. He was sprawled on your bed, naked body barely covered by the thin sheets. It felt like a sin to wake him. You'd never seen him so peaceful before. You decided to cook breakfast before doing anything else, the idea of pancakes suddenly very appealing.

While you were finishing your plates, he appeared in the corridor, only wearing his boxers.

"Good morning, noona," he smirked.

"Good morning, baby," you smiled back, too relaxed to care about his teasing.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, suddenly shy.

"I feel good, honestly," you answered. "And you? You know we'll have to talk about it sooner or later right?"

"Later sounds good"-he got into the kitchen, holding you from behind as he stared at what you were doing."Something smells great in here."

"I thought it'd be nice to cook you something, since you worked so hard last night," you joked, blushing.

"I could think of better things to feast on in the morning, noona."-he turned you to him, pulling you by the hands when you tried to create some distance between you.

He kissed you softly, pushing you back against the dining table. You smiled, kissing him back and running your hands through his hair. He lifted you by your legs, placing you on the table; hands squeezing your thighs hard as he opened them, pressing closer. You started kissing him harder, breakfast long forgotten. He started to push your nightgown upwards, touching the small bruises left from the night before when, suddenly, someone started knocking on your door.

"Noona, it's Hongjoong!"

"It's all of us!" Mingi added, and you and Yunho shared a look, started to get nervous.

"Are you up?" Hongjoong asked. "Yunho didn't come home yesterday and he seemed so out of it after your fight. We don't know where he is and honestly, we're freaking out."

Before Yunho could say anything, you ran over to the door, worried about your friends. You opened the door, trying to fix your disheveled look as best as you could.

"Thank god you're up!" Mingi said, hugging you. "We have no idea of where he is and-"

Mingi and the rest of the boys fell silent as they saw Yunho leaning against the kitchen counter, barely dressed. You had the decency to blush, trying to cover any apparent hickies and marks with your hair, but he just smiled at the group, walking over to where they were standing as you closed the door behind them.

"Good morning, fellas," he said, grinning at you.

The seven boys exchanged confused looks, a few of them already smirking at the scene they encountered. You were afraid they'd tease you endlessly, and were not ready for it; not at all. Thankfully, they just laughed and said hello to their bandmate. Yunho excused himself and went to get dressed. You and Wooyoung shared a knowing look, falling into a fit of laughter, soon followed by the rest of them.

"What were you doing, noona?" Seonghwa asked, smirking at you.

"I was… We were..." you fumbled with your words, blushing hard.

"It seems like they were about to have... breakfast," Yeosang said, and you were glad he saved you from the embarrassment, even if he still teased you.

"Yeah, that's what we were doing!" you exclaimed.

"Are those pancakes?" Jongho asked, smiling. "I'm starving!"

You smiled at the boys, offering to cook for the whole group as Yunho got dressed, hoping they wouldn't mention whatever you were doing before they arrived ever again. They seemed to be trying hard to talk about anything else, joking about how they were glad their friend was safe and sound and mentioning how boring the club got once you left.

They started telling you tour stories, laughing at crazy fan moments and embarrassing interviews. Your chest was full of love and happiness for this group, and you smiled softly at them, saying you couldn't wait to see them performing their next release - one you'd already heard, since you were so close.

Yunho got back, smiling down at you, and he kissed you lightly on the cheek, picking up a plate of pancakes and scrambled eggs. The boys looked him over, San's hand running over his neck in a quick motion as he decided to speak up.

"That's gonna be hard to cover," he smirked, motioning to the love bite you left there.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Yunho said, hand moving to cover the same spot his friend had touched, his ears turning red.

If the group noticed San's teasing, they didn't show it; all too preoccupied with the table full of food to get into that. Yeosang looked up at you, smiling, and you couldn't help but smile back at him. You were as happy as you could be, knowing that everyone was treating you the same and, most importantly, knowing that Yunho didn't seem to be having second thoughts about whatever happened between you. You were still on friendly terms, you thought, and you realized you had never felt more content.

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somedayonbroadway · 4 years

Note

It’s spooky season so... Coraline AU?

Ooooooh this is gonna be a fun one.

Coraline AU

Characters

Racetrack Higgins — Coraline Jones

Jack Kelly — Mel Jones

Katherine Plumber — Charlie Jones

Crutchie Morris — Wyborn Lovat

The Bowery Beauties — April and Miriam

Obadiah Weisel — Mr. B

Todd Kloppman — The Cat

The Spider — The Other Mother

JoJo De La Gurra, Specs, Henry — The Ghost Children

Medda Larkin — Mrs. Lovet

Albert DaSilva and Spot Conlon — Manhattan Friends

Okay, so…

Tyler “Racetrack” Higgins-Kelly is a curious eleven year old boy, drawn to odd and peculiar things. Growing up, the boy can often be found reading books on witchcraft and the unexplained, which is one of the main reasons he had such trouble making friends. No one wants to hear him talk about ghosts or alternate dimensions or witches. But Race loves it.

This all worries Jack, his half-brother and guardian who adopted him when he was five years old. See, Jack was never under the impression that his baby brother was a normal little boy who would be into superheroes and action figures, but he’d hoped Race would grow into being a little more extroverted and happy. Race has a lot of energy and likes to talk a lot which makes caseworker visits a bit hard on Jack who doesn’t want his baby brother talking so freely about somewhat violent and ridiculous things. But they get by.

Throughout elementary school, this odd little boy only manages to make two friends, Spot and Albert, who help him fight off bullies and such. He adores his friends and is just about destroyed when Jack and his fiancé Katherine sit him down to explain to him that they would soon be leaving Manhattan for Santa Fe, all the way across the country, for Jack’s new job as an animator.

Race is angry with his brother, claiming that he’s ruined his life by making this decision, not knowing that Jack has been dreaming of having this job for years. Katherine, a young writer who is working on her own novel, tries to sit him down and explain why this was happening, that Race would make new friends and maybe even find new places to explore. Race still resents both Jack and Katherine, Katherine who had just officially adopted him as she and Jack were engaged to be married.

Still, Race has no choice but to say goodbye to his friends and sit by while Jack forcibly packs away all of his things into boxes, trying desperately to cheer him up by telling him about the mansion they’ll be moving into, a house that had been divided into three separate apartments. He tries to hint at his baby brother that it might be haunted or peculiar, but Race is not interested in hearing this, not even as they’re driving away from their old apartment.

When they arrive at their new home and Katherine and Jack help their hired movers to arrange everything in their new apartment, Race is told by his brother, whom he’d been bothering by grumbling and complaining to him all the way, to go outside and explore, but to not wander too far. Race does as he’s told, still angry, but glad he at least has a chance to test out water witching.

The boy finds a dowsing rod and lets it lead him to a hidden well, scared half to death by a black cat who’d been following him since he’d stepped foot off of his porch and another odd boy, only a year older than him who informs a confused Race who can��t find the water his rod had led him too that if he stomps too hard, he’d fall into it.

The well Race had stumbled upon is said to be so deep that if fallen into, one could see the stars in the middle of the day. Race is immediately drawn to it. The odd boy, Charlie, offers to push him in, but Race just shoves him in the shoulder, explaining that he doesn’t like to be stalked by psycho nerds and their cats. Charlie tries to tell Race the cat doesn’t actually belong to him, but he does feed it every night and give it baths sometimes. The cat doesn’t like to get dirty or wet. Race calls Charlie’s cat a wusspuss.

This odd boy is very observant and has things of his own creation saddled all over him, most of them looking to be dangerous weapons, and, even if Race doesn’t necessarily like it when this kid runs his mouth, he can’t help but admit to himself that those gadgets are pretty cool. He does note that Charlie walks with a limp, and finds the boy has a metal leg. Charlie asks Race where he’s from, guessing LA or Chicago, based on Race’s mannerisms and clear uncomfort to the quiet that surrounded them. Race just shrugs it off and tells Charlie that he’s from Manhattan.

Charlie explained that he’s shocked that Race lives in the “The Lodge” which is what folks around the place call the old mansion. Charlie’s adoptive grandmother and caretaker, Miss Medda, made it clear that she doesn’t rent out the apartment to people with kids. Race thinks nothing of this and tries to move on, but after noting that Race was out water witching, Charlie inspects the dowsing rod the younger boy had chosen and instructs him to wear gloves next time, as the rod Race is holding is poison oak. It doesn’t take long for a rash to spread on Tyler’s hands.

Later, back at home, Tyler tries to tell Jack about his day, rambling on about how he’s almost fallen into a well and died, but stressed out with all the work from his new job, Jack brushed him off, asking him to unpack and entertain himself rather that go back outside now that it’s raining. Jack really doesn’t like mud. But, Katherine comes inside not too long after, holding a gift for Racer, a little doll with button eyes that looks just like him. Race is at first a bit creeped out, but then figures Charlie altered the doll to look just like him, on account of him wanting them to be friends even though Race finds Charlie slightly annoying.

Either way, he takes the doll with him through the house, even after telling his guardians that he’s much too old for dolls anyway.

A couple hours after that, Race begs his big brother to let him go outside once again but Jack refuses, telling him this apartment is filthy enough and he can continue unpacking more than the single box of snow globes that he’d unpacked when they’d first arrived or find a way to entertain himself because Jack is busy working and is brand new at his job and has a project due and doesn’t want to get fired before he’s survived a week. So Race goes to bother Katherine instead.

Katherine, has just gotten over a writer’s block and is on a spree. She is writing a graphic novel (that Jack is illustrating for her) and she really doesn’t need any distraction, but when Race walks in to ask if he can play outside, she brushes him off, asking what the boss said. When Race admits that Jack said, no she says no too and Race starts playing with the creaky door behind her, just to try and get a rise out of her.

See, since this whole thing started, Jack and Katherine both had been somewhat ignoring him, for a lack of better words. Both stressed out from artistic deadlines, they leave Race alone for the most part and Race has never really been good at being alone. He misses when Jack used to play with him and when Katherine used to read with them and make him laugh. He missed them and, as he is a small child, the only way he knows how to display these emotions is to get very frustrated and angry.

When Katherine suggests Race explore the house, as it’s about a hundred and fifty years old, Race does, knowing that no matter what he says, Jack and Katherine are still gonna have to do their work.

He takes his doll with him on his explorations where he finds boring paintings, boring windows and a disgusting shower. He accidentally hits a switch that turns off the electricity in the house and he hears Katherine screaming, as she’d been working on her novel on her desktop. The boy feels guilty but flicks the switch back and runs away, as though he’d never done any such thing.

Still he continues on, counting the windows as Katherine had instructed until he sets his doll down and turns to find it gone. When he finds it, it’s still in the same room, only it’s hiding behind an old painting that’s leaning against the wall. Upon moving the painting, Race sees a door encased behind horrible wallpaper and calls out to Jack to figure out where the tiny door leads. Though he tries to explain that he’s very busy, Jack eventually caves asking Race that, if he were to do this for him, he’d leave him alone and let him and Katherine get some actual work done. Race agrees.

In the kitchen, Jack finds a drawer full of forgotten keys and rummages around, trying to find whatever key it was that would unlock that door for his baby brother. He finds an odd looking key, one that’s top looks like a button. Jack’s not sure why, but he knows that must be the one that unlocks that small door. He unlocks it, only for Race to pull it open and find a brick wall. Disappointed, Race begins whining again only for Jack to tell him that they made a deal and to quiet down so that he can do some work because his deadline is in a couple of days and he has to finish this project.

Later that night, after Katherine cooks a dinner that Race doesn’t like, he pesters Jack about why Jack doesn’t cook anymore. Jack is a really good cook, and he used to cook for him all the time before they’d moved, even when he’d worked two jobs. But Jack tells Race to be grateful to Katherine who always sings him a sweet little song before giving him food. He promises Race that he’ll go shopping soon and get him something he likes. The boy just rolls his eyes and grumbles so Jack makes him take a few bites before sending him off to bed.

Race goes, taking his little look alike with him and snuggling it as he drifts off to sleep, as the little doll makes him feel a little less alone.

In the middle of the night, Racer is woken up by squeaks sounding from beneath him. He finds that there are four little mice running around his room. Rather than being scared of them, he follows them out into the hallway, down through the apartment, past Jack and Katherine’s room, into that little door.

When he opens the thing, he finds the brick wall gone. Instead, there’s a twisting, glowing blue tunnel. Race gapes at it, believing this to be some kind of dream. Still, he crawls through to the other side, rolling through a door at the end and finding himself in a lit up apartment that exactly mirrors his own. And something smells amazing.

Following his nose to the kitchen, Race finds Jack cooking in the kitchen. Only, it’s not Jack. The man looks just like his brother in every aspect but one.

He has black buttons where his eyes should be.

Race is stunned by this, but, upon asking where he was and why Jack was cooking in the middle of the night, the man responds that he is in fact Race’s big brother; The Other Jack. The Other Jack explains that everyone has another family, but doesn’t go into depth about it. He just smiles at Race and excitedly states that he’s been waiting for him and that he cooked this dinner to celebrate his arrival. He then asks Race to go get The Other Katherine, who is in her study.

In Katherine’s study, Race finds The Other Katherine playing the piano and singing, something she used to do for him when he’d first started to understand she’d be becoming a big part of his life. Race finds that she too has buttoned eyes too as she whirls around to pull him into her lap and helps him play the keys like they used to. Race is sad to end this moment, but does tell The Other Katherine that The Other Jack says it’s time to eat. Not even a little upset by this, The Other Katherine scoops the boy up and takes him back to the kitchen where The Other Jack has set up a beautiful meal of steak, potatoes, corn on the cob and rolls, complete with a literal gravy train and a milkshake chandelier. Afterwards, The Other Jack surprises Race with a cake that decorates itself right in front of him, a special “Welcome Home” message written across it. Race is a little hesitant, but can’t help but feel happy here, where he doesn’t feel so alone.

Noting his hesitation, The Other Jack suggests they play a game. Maybe, hide and seek in the rain. It’s only when Race mentions that it’s not raining that the sky opens up and rain pours down. The Other Jack and Katherine claim they love mud and want nothing more than for him to be happy. The Other Jack even states that mud is good for poison oak, something Race never mentioned he had. A bit nervous at this, Race suggests he should get back to the other Jack, his first big brother. When The Other Jack says that he can stay as long as he wants, Race states he’s tired and should get to bed.

Upon arriving in his backwards bedroom, Race finds that the picture he had on his dresser of Spot and Albert is moving and they’re talking to him. His bed is completely made up, unlike the cot he has at home as they haven’t gotten that far in the ways of unpacking. While talking to his button eyed friends in the photo, The Other Jack spreads mud over Race’s rashes gently and lovingly. Then, The Other Jack tucks him in and kisses him goodnight and he and The Other Katherine stay with him until he drifts off.

Waking back up in his own room, his poison oak completely gone, Race rushes to tell Jack what happened and Jack let’s him ramble on as he pours his brother a bowl of cereal, letting him eat before he tells Race about their crazy neighbors, telling Race he should meet them and tell them about his odd dreams, that the actresses downstairs might be curious about hearing his wild stories. Katherine, however, does joke with Race about having The Other Jack making her some kind of remedy to help her sleep through Jack’s snoring at night, but Jack sarcastically laughs and brushes her off and tells her that if the real Katherine wants her illustrations done she better get writing.

Race does go off to explore, going downstairs to meet two former actresses, Kaitlyn and Beth (named after the two actresses who play The Bowery Beauties in Newsies Live). Even though Jack has instinctively made fun of his neighbors already, calling the actresses old bats and the old man upstairs a drunk, Race gives into his curiosity and knocks on the door downstairs, finding that the two old actresses are nearly crazy. They claim to be somewhat psychic, though, and Race finds that interesting.

When Beth reads his tea leaves, she sees that he’s in terrible danger, even though Kaitlyn claims she must be reading it wrong.

Still, Race goes along like nothing is wrong, wandering back to his apartment and finding mail that doesn’t belong to his guardians sitting on the porch. He goes to return it, finding an eccentric old man that Race believes is a little creepy. The old man says his name is Weisel, but Race purposely gets it wrong, calling the man Weasel, instead, just to get a rise out of him. Weasel states that he is training mice to put on a circus. Realizing this man must be a little crazy, he goes to leave before the old man tells him that the mice have a message for him.

Don’t go through the little door.

Weasel shrugs it off, telling Race that the mice are a little bit crazy. But Race knows exactly what they’re talking about.

On his way back down to his door, Race is stopped by Charlie who is out slug hunting with his feral cat. Race asks if Charlie made that doll look like him to which Charlie replies that he found the doll that way. He also says that if his Grandma found out that he was near The Lodge that she’d kill him. Medda says this house is dangerous.

He then goes off to tell Race that Medda had a twin brother when she was little that disappeared and was never found. Medda claims that he was stolen.

Race gets annoyed with Charlie when Charlie rambles on and on and won’t listen to a word Race says about the Other World inside his house or The Other Jack. Even though he has fun with Charlie for a half an hour he still finds him a bit annoying, even if he is nearly as off as Race himself.

That night, despite all the warnings he’d gotten throughout the day, Race leaves some cheddar cheese out for the mice that lead him to the small door the night before. When he wakes up to hear them again, he excitedly follows them back through the door and finds The Other Jack readily waiting for him, lifting him up as he cooks, pressing a kiss to his head to thank him for the cheddar he brought them. Then he tells Race to go fetch The Other “Better” Katherine, letting him know that she’s out in the garden.

When Race finds The Other Katherine outside, he finds that she has made the garden look perfectly like a replica of Race’s own face. She explains that The Other Jack said he’d love it because he knows Racer like the back of his hand. Race can’t help but admire the gift before The Other Katherine takes him back to his Other Home and The Other Jack reveals that he’s made breakfast for dinner. They eat before explaining that Mr. Wiesel from upstairs invited Race and Charlie to see a mouse circus.

Race is annoyed that there’s another Charlie, but The Other Jack reveals that this Charlie can’t talk and is always smiling. That he fixed him. So Race goes with The Other Charlie to see the circus, marveling at the circus where they’re given popcorn and all the candy they can eat. Well, Race eats it. The Other Charlie just smiles and holds it all. After this, they head downstairs and Race is carried to bed by The Other Jack and his Other Family stays with him while he drifts off to sleep.

The next day, Race rushes to the door, just to see if it really is just a dream. But it’s locked. Later, as Jack places him in the car, explaining to him that Katherine has a meeting with an editor back in New York and that they need to go shopping for new school clothes, Jack lets Race ramble on about this Other World on their way to the airport to drop off Katherine. But when it comes to school shopping, Race immediately whines about the boring, colorless clothes Jack picking out for him.

He does ask for one thing. A newsboy cap that he finds at the store they’re at. Jack tells him he doesn’t need it, even though Race tries to explain that everyone else will be wearing the same clothes as him but no one else will be wearing that hat. Jack tells him to put it back. When Race comments that The Other Jack would buy them for him, Jack does his best to hide the hurt but he then shoots back that maybe The Other Jack should buy all of Racer’s clothes.

Race asks Jack why he locked the door to which Jack responds he thought Race might feel safer because he found rat droppings in that room. Jack doesn’t like these dreams of Race and is starting to think it might be dangerous to indulge them. But the boy insists they’re the most fun he’s had since they moved.

Those words hurt Jack even more. But he knows he can’t argue. He hasn’t been spending a lot of time with the kid.

When they get home, Jack reveals he needs to grab some groceries and asks Race to come with him, promising to let him pick out something he liked, but when Race gives him attitude, Jack just sighs and leaves him alone, telling him that he’d be back and that he loved Race. Race just lets him go.

When Jack’s gone, he immediately goes searching for the key to the little door, unlocking the thing and finding the glowing blue tunnel to be waiting for him. He knew it wasn’t just a dream.

Crawling through to the other side, Race finds a note waiting for him. He’s been invited down for an acrobatics show at the apartment of the two actresses and The Other Jack would be back later to cook him dinner. Race smiles at this and heads down to meet Charlie and see the show.

Before he can get there, however, he meets a cat, a cat that looks much too similar to the one the real Charlie has following him everywhere. Believing him to be The Other Cat, Race addresses him like he would any other cat, but when the thing starts speaking to him, he jumps and scrambles back, confused. The cat informs him that he’s not some Other. He’s just him. He tells Race that this is something that he and The Spider did sometimes. It was a game. When Race asks who The Spider is, the cat ignores him. He hints at the fact that he was once friends with The Spider, having found this world as a young man and finding it interesting until he’d made a mistake. Race doesn’t get to ask anymore questions before the cat who’d said his name was Todd Kloppman catches a mouse that turns out to be a rat.

Race, a bit nervous by all of this, still continues on to meet The Other Charlie.

The show is spectacular. Beth and Kaitlyn go from being their old selves to their younger selves in an instant and even bring Race in to be part of the show. He loves it.

Charlie silently walks Race home and Race is excited to see The Other Jack at the door. He doesn’t see the silent warning The Other Jack gives The Other Charlie when he sees the boy not smiling.

At the dinner table, The Other Jack and The Other Katherine tell Race that they have a surprise for him and push him a small gift wrapped box. The Other Jack explains that Race could stay forever if he’d like, but he’d have to do something first. Inside the box, Race finds. Two buttons and a needle.

The Other Jack wants to sew buttons into his eyes.

He explains that black is traditional, but Race could have any color he’d like. Suddenly, all of the warnings Race had been given rush to the front of his mind. He tells The Other Jack that he can’t see buttons in his eyes and then tries to laugh off the offer and go to bed, hoping he’d wake back up in his real home. But when he wakes up too soon, he’s still in The Other World.

He goes to try and get back to the little door but finds it locked. When he finds The Other Katherine, she’s mindlessly playing the piano and rambling about how The Other Jack is losing his strength and needs it back and that’s why she’s so tired. He rushes out to go find The Other Charlie, despite The Other Katherine’s insistence that it would do no good.

He runs out of the house and finds Todd lurking about. He walks with the cat into nothingness as he walks away from the house, while Todd explains to him that The Other Jack has alternative motives. He jokingly suggests that maybe The Other Jack lured him here because he was looking for something to eat.

They walk around the small world, ending up back at the house where Todd finds another rat and The Other Jack comes out to meet Race and offer him chocolate, seeming to notice his hesitation. He informs Race that even the toughest of spirits can be broken with love. But Race tells The Other Jack that he wants to get home to the real Jack.

As he continues to ask the buttoned eyed Jack to let him go home, The Other Jack gets angry and demands an apology. When he doesn’t get one, his true form begins to show.

As he grows angrier, he grows taller and thinner until he has a spider-like figure that Race is horrified by. The Other Jack, yells and drags Race towards a mirror, throwing him inside and telling him that he can come out when he’s learned to love him. Race is trapped.

Realizing that there’s no way out, the boy tries to lay down on the small bed inside this dark, windowless chamber. He’s terrified when he sees three ghosts curled up on the bed, all three having buttons for eyes. They ask Race if he’s next and Race doesn’t fully understand what they mean. He asks their names and they reveal they don’t remember them but they miss their real families. The ghost children explain that The Other Jack is a type of witch that can appear however it wants to to lure children to it because it feeds off of curiosity and the best source is the eyes of curious children. They explain that they were given a doll that had their likeness so it could spy on them. That The Spider is an entity that finds where a child is the most unhappy and lures it into this fantasy world to eat its eyes. The eyes then become a part of the world as the world is a part of The Spider, the entity that lives there.

They tell Race that their souls are trapped in this world because they don’t have their eyes but if they were able to find them, they’d be able to escape. They ask Race to find their eyes if he can, but to worry about escaping first and foremost lest he wanted to end up like them.

Only a few minutes later, gloved hands reach through the mirror and pull him out. It’s The Other Charlie, trying to rush him back through the door. The Other Jack hears them and Race tries to pull his silent friend with him but The Other Charlie shows Race that he’s only made of sand before he pushes the boy through the tunnel that is now a creaky dark wooden crawl space lined with spider webs. But Race forces himself through and slams the door in his real home screaming out for Jack.

No one comes running.

Race runs around the apartment, longing for safe arms and reassuring words but Jack’s just not there.

Upon realizing this, Race rushes to his neighbors, telling them that his brother was missing only for them to brush him off and tell him that Jack was probably just out running an errand. Beth, however, does give a Race a little trinket, a triangle with an eye whole in the middle of it. She says it’s for finding lost things.

Charlie finds him and asks for the doll he gave him back and Racer tries to tell him what the ghost children told him, and he realizes that he met Medda’s twin brother. Charlie is confused by this and calls Race crazy before running (limping) away towards his home.

Race tries to call Katherine. The phone won’t connect. He cries, begging for Jack to stop playing this joke on him because he doesn’t like it, but Jack doesn’t pop out to comfort him.

Race is all alone.

So he curls up on Jack and Katherine’s bed, shaking and crying, trying to wake up.

He’s woken not too long after that, by a cat pawing at his nose. Confused and scared, Race asks if Todd knew where his brother was, shocking to find that the cat nods at him. He follows the kitty to a full length mirror in the hall, watching the thing swirl in a mystic blue before he can see snow blowing harshly all around a shivering young man who’s only wearing a t-shirt and jeans.

Jack rushes to the glass when he can see the little boy. Race gasps and tries to get to him, but finds that he doesn’t know how. Jack pressed his hand against the mirror, tears in his eyes as he has no idea what’s happening, but he knows his baby is on the other side of that glass.

In a fit of panic, Race bangs on the glass and the mirror shatters around him. He knows that The Spider is behind this. And he knows he has to go back to The Other World.

As he crawls back through the tunnel, Todd follows him, instructing that he should make this into a game. The Spider loves games. So Race takes his advice, though the cat warns him that The Spider won’t play fair.

The other door opens and someone who appears to be Jack shouts for him, nearly in tears as he reaches for the boy. But, upon touching him, Race realizes that it’s just another one of The Spider’s tricks.

The Spider asks why Race would run away from him while dragging the boy to the kitchen to make him breakfast. Race demands his real brother be returned to him but the Spider claims that Jack must’ve just run away and gotten bored of him. After The Spider sends The Other Katherine away, Race proposes that they play a game, anger rising in him at the entity pretending to be his brother, but more at himself for wanting to get away from Jack and Katherine in the first place.

The Spider is intrigued by the prospect of a game, unable to back down from a challenge. So Race explains that he’d find the eyes of the ghost children and his real brother and that if he did, The Spider had to let him and everyone else go.

The Spider accepts.

But Race demands a hint.

“In each of three wonders I've made just for you, a ghost's eye is lost in plain sight,” is all he gets before The Spider vanishes and leaves him alone.

The little boy does his best to explore, needing to find the eyes of the ghost children. The first in the garden The Other Katherine had made for him, the second in the theater Beth and Kaitlyn had cheered for him, and the third in the mouse circus where rats were now crawling over spilled candy and popcorn.

Race uses the small thing Beth had given him to fight his way towards those treasures, nearly getting swallowed by the small world, torn apart by the puppet twins and eaten alive by the rats that made up a Weasel. But he finds every eye. All that’s left is finding Jack.

However, as the night settles over The Other World, The Spider claims Race might be too late. Ever clever, Race manages to trick The Spider into unlocking the small door he’s locked up already, claiming that he knew that’s where the which had hidden his big brother, all the while knowing that Jack was trapped in a snow globe on the mantle, something he’d figured out after seeing a tiny handprint on the glass.

He grabs the glass and tumbles through the tunnel, leaving The Spider behind after an epic battle that the ghost children, finally free, help him win. They help him back inside his own home where Race hastily locks the door and goes to run, only to slip on something.

One of the snow globes is broken.

The front door opens and Jack calls into the house, saying that he’d just picked up Katherine from the airport. When he sees his baby brother kneeling in glass and water, he immediately rushes to him, still covered in snow, though he has no idea what Race is talking about when he hugs him tight, sobbing about him being free. Jack just helps him to the kitchen and cleans him up, apologizing to him because he knows this has been an adjustment for Race and he knows it’s been hard on him, but he just wants to make it up to him.

Race just hugs him and Katherine so tightly, never wanting to let go.

After his guardians tuck him into bed, Todd curls up next to him as he drifts off. He dreams of the ghost children, who thank him refusely for setting him free. But it’s not over, they tell him. Race is still not safe.

As there is only one key to that door, The Spider will find it and Race needs to hide it where he’ll never be able to get it.

So, in the middle of the night, Race runs out into the woods to that old, forgotten well with his cat, nervously humming the song Katherine would sing to him all the time and planning to drop the key down the well. Little does he know, one of The Spider’s crawling hands is following him, ready to strike before Charlie rushes to save him, nearly getting pushed into the well himself. But the slightly older boy manages to crush the hand with a stone and together he and Racer drop the key down into the never ending well.

And Race is finally free.

He grows to love the neighborhood and the mansion he gets to live in. Jack and Katherine even host a barbecue on his insistence, inviting everyone, including Charlie and Miss Medda who Charlie explains he’s never seen so at peace.

And though Race refuses to go anywhere near that little door again, all is well.

Race has his real family who love him dearly. And that’s all he’ll ever need.

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sillyrabbit81 · 4 years

Text

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 3.8k

Warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of death,

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 17 Part 19

Part 18

It was a crazy week, and by Wednesday, I had had enough and wanted it to be all over. It was the last day of school for the term. The kids were rowdy, and it was hard for them to concentrate. I gave up structured lessons after the morning session, and we did Easter craft. Still, even craft was hard for my kids. Most of them can't use scissors without assistance or had to use modified ones set into a wooden block. It wasn't a bludge, but it was much less stressful for both the kids and myself.

I had playground duty at lunchtime. Some of the older mainstream kids had heard about Liam, and a few would walk past me and sing the theme song to his superhero movies. Others would have a conversation with me and sneak in a movie quote. Lucky for me, most of Liam's films weren't appropriate for children, so there were only a few they could use. The kids would run away giggling, and I would shake my head. I wasn't upset by it, kids are kids, and at least they made their fun to my face.

The parents were awful. The mums would go quiet when I was near them, and I would hear laughter or whispering as I walked away. The dads looked at me just that little bit longer, making me feel uncomfortable. I just tried to remember Liam's arms around me, the way he made me feel safe in his arms. I found myself touching my earrings a lot. They soothed me.

The worst part was the other staff. Not all of them, just a couple of the younger ones and newer ones. Their eyes seemed to bore into me in the staff room and in meetings. The ones who had been here when Andy died were good. They appeared to be on the same page as Marla had been. The rest of the support class teachers and TA's were kind. They actually asked me to my face about it, seemed happy for me, and then that was it they moved on.

My boss, Michael, did call me into his office on Monday afternoon. He was good about it mostly, just concerned because apparently, the office staff had received a few phone calls from a couple of media outlets trying to get in contact with me. The staff were good enough to hang up on them. I was honest with Michael and said I didn't know what my plans were, just that we were dating. I did tell him about how it would be official on Thursday, but it worked out well because the office would be empty for two weeks, and by then, I'll be old news.

When I spoke to Liam on the phone, I had told him about how I was feeling. I was honest about it as much as I could be.

Liam was empathetic and seemed sincere when he said I didn't have to go. "If it's too much, we can wait for another time. The dress you have will be as good in a few months as it is now. Or we can return it all and try again later." Cheekily he said, "I'll let you keep the earrings."

I declined. I wanted to get it over with. I figured the quicker it was done, the quicker no one would care, and I can go back into hiding. It was like ripping off a band-aid. Just do it.

When I had gotten home from work on Tuesday, I had decided to do the hardest thing of all. I called Andy's mother.

Anthea was born in Greece and immigrated to Australia with her family in her early teens. She had met Andy's dad, Tim, a white Australian with Irish heritage, and they had a beautiful marriage. They had five children, three boys and two girls. Andy was the youngest son and was the unofficial favourite. She had always been lovely to me. She always called me Little Lana and would always hug me and insist I ate. On my birthday, she would make me galaktoboureko. She still calls me for my birthday and invites me over for Orthodox Easter and Christmas. I don't go, but I always make sure to call and send presents for my two godchildren.

"My Little Lana," Anthea gushed. "It is so good to hear from you. How are you going? Tim, Lana is on the phone! He will be so happy you called. Yes, Timothy, it's Lana. Yes, Tim says g'day. How are you? We miss you. How is work? How are your precious children? You do such good work, Little Lana."

Did I mention she talks a lot? She was one of those people who seemed to speak without having to take a breath.

"Hi Anthea, I'm doing well. Work is great, really good. I have a great bunch this year."

"Yes, you sound happy, Little Lana. Your new boyfriend must have something to do with it? He is very handsome. Not as handsome as Kamari mou but handsome. I showed all my friends, and they tell me you are still so beautiful and your hair is still so pretty and long. So long now. You've grown it."

I was stunned. I tried to talk, but the lump in my throat was so big, I couldn't swallow. I tried to say something, but all that came out was a huge sob, and I broke down.

"I'm sorry, Anthea, I am so sorry."

"Why are you crying? Stop it. Alana, why would I be upset? Why are you crying? Don't cry, silly girl. You should be happy. I do not expect you to be wearing black, like an old lady from my old country, for the rest of your life. I know you loved my son. but you're too young to grieve forever."

"I wanted to call you and tell you, but it happened so fast." I was still crying, but it wasn't so bad now. Anthea had comforted me in a way that I hadn't even known I needed. That she still loved me when I had started dating another man was incredible to me.

"You shhh, Little Lana. Listen to me. You have obviously called me for permission whether you know that's what you were doing or not. You have it, my blessing. Kamari mou wanted you to be happy also. He would not want you to be alone forever. You know this. Go speak to him, speak to Andy, and you will know."

"Thank you, Anthea."

"There now, Little Lana, you will be ok. Now no more speaking of sadness. I must tell you all the wonderful news. You will be an Aunty again soon."

Anthea talked to me for a little over an hour. Talking to Anthea was being talked at, but I needed it. I promised to call her again soon. She, of course, invited me to Easter but didn't expect a reply.

I felt lighter after talking to her. She was right. I had needed to know from her that she was ok with it. I don't know what I would have done if she hadn't been. I don't think I would have ended it with Liam. I think I was in too deep, but it would have been much harder to go on.

Anthea was right about something else too. I needed to talk to Andy.

So after school on Wednesday, I drove to the cemetery. I went and saw my Dad first. I didn't have much to say to him. I just sat there and let the memories come to me.

I remembered when I was six, and he shaved his moustache off, and I hadn't recognised him. I had run screaming to my Mum that there was a stranger in the house. I remembered how he would take us to see the fireworks on New Year's Eve, getting there early to get good spots and watch in awe as the fireworks exploded over Sydney Harbour. Nothing was as breathtaking as my home city on New Year's Eve. I thought about how he loved David Bowie, and he had even convinced my mother to name my brother after him. Dave and I had taken Dad to see David Bowie a few years before he passed away, and it was one of the most incredible nights of my life. The Labyrinth is still my favourite kid's movie, and Jareth was my first crush. He looked so good in those tights.

I went to see Andy. I don't see him very often. I go on Boxing Day, his birthday and our anniversary. As had become my ritual on those visits, I had his old phone and listened to his playlist. I laid down on the grass next to him and looked up at the sky. After a while, I started talking.

"Hey Butthead," I started, smiling as I said our private nickname. "I've got some things to tell you. First of all, I miss you. But surely you know that. And I know you know I will always love you. You were such a beacon in my life. A light for me when everything else was dark. I was like a moth to your flame. You drew me in, making me want to be close to you. You always made me feel like everything would be ok if I just stayed in your light. Things were so dark when you were taken from me. For so long, I felt nothing. Everything was dark.

"But then I started feeling better. I still missed you every day, but I wanted to find that again. Feel that love and safety again. I started dating about six months ago. Online mostly, you know, how the kids do it these days. I went on a few dates but felt nothing. Or if I did feel something, I felt like they weren't as good as you. Why would I settle for anyone who wasn't as good as you?

"I don't mean the same as you. I mean someone who moves me the way you did. Someone who showed me kindness like you did, someone who made me laugh, made me feel giddy. Someone I was attracted to. But also someone I wanted to do things for, someone who I wanted to go out of my way for, not because they forced me, but because I wanted to because I knew they would do it for me.

"I was about to give up. I only tried dating for a few months, but it felt so futile that I didn't care anymore. Then this guy started messaging me. He was sweet and funny, a Pom, but don't hold that against him. Anyway, I liked him instantly. It scared the shit out of me. I made him wait three months before I agreed to meet him. I was so scared because I knew I could fall for him.

"And when I met him, the sparks were there. It was instant. He was all the things I wanted. He's not like you. You're both very different. I mean, he doesn't like Mad Max for God's sake. But he makes me feel the way you made me feel. And Andy, I am falling for him."

*********************

"Lana, hold still." Jen was pulling my hair. I looked over at Riza, who was covering her mouth with a magazine. Her shaking shoulders gave her away, though, and I could see she was laughing her arse off. "I only have a couple more to do, and then you can go home and sleep."

I was at Riza's place. I had to see Jen after I spoke to Andy. Jen wanted to put my hair in pin curls. She had washed my hair and then got started pinning small sections of my already curly hair into curls.

I thought it was weird, but she said the hair has to be curled in the right direction for the style to work. She also said that the longer the curls were in, the better the result. That's why I was at her place, getting my hair done 24 hours before the event. How do celebrities live like this?

"How the hell am I going to sleep in this?" Riza's dropped all pretence and was laughing openly at me now. "Get bent, Riza."

"Hey! You're the one who looks like a 1950's housewife right now."

"1940's babe," Jen admonished. "Get it right."

When she finished, she wrapped my hair in a silk scarf. "Did you buy me an apron to go with the barefoot in the kitchen look?" I asked.

Jen laughed. She knew me well enough to know it was a joke. "Trust me. You're gonna love it."

"So when do I take the clips out?" I asked Jen.

"Not until I do your hair."

My eyes bulged. "I'm going to Liam's place hours before you're going to get there."

Riza pissed herself laughing, and Jen just said, "trust me."

When I got in bed, I rang Liam. I Facetimed him. Maybe if he laughs at me now, he won't laugh at me when I'm there, which would break my heart. His reaction surprised me.

"Why are you wearing a scarf? Please tell me you didn't dye your hair." He looked devastated.

"And what if I did?" I asked.

"You would still be you. It wouldn't change anything." He sputtered.

"Nice save," I laughed.

"I think being a redhead suits you. It makes you a little different."

I told Liam it was to protect the pin curls so they don't frizz. "You don't have to worry about me dying my hair until I start going white. I've never died my hair. It's my natural colour."

Liam's lip twitched. "I've noticed." He said.

I could have died.

On Thursday morning, I skipped the gym for obvious reasons, showered carefully so as not to wet my hair and started to get ready. I packed my bag and packed a bag for Perrin with his bed, crate, and food. I did a quick run through the shops to the dressmaker to pick the dress up from the dressmaker and to buy underwear for the dress. I didn't need a bra, but I wasn't going without underpants.

In the morning, I pottered, waiting for lunchtime to arrive and for Liam to finish his half-day at work. I was so jittery I had dropped my coffee this morning, and the mug had smashed. Not having anything to do and waiting for hours made it all worse. I had to do something, so I painted my nails and watched Kill Bill Vol. 1.

The story took me over, and soon I was transported with the action and exceptional dialogue. I decided the only person who could convince me to be an actor would be Quentin. I even went and got out my "Written and Directed by Quentin Tarantino" hoodie for added comfort. When it was over, I did feel a little better and whistling the song from the movie, I got Perrin and went to Liam's.

By the time I got to Liam's house, the nerves had come back. I found it hard to concentrate and almost just walked Perrin into the backyard. I sighed and put Perrin on his leash and texted Liam that I was here, and walked to the park with Perrin. We had planned a way to introduce the dogs during the week. The snag was I had agreed to it before I knew about the hair situation. But I found an old bucket hat of Andy's that fit and hid most of my head. I still felt ridiculous, but at least the hat somewhat normal.

When I saw Liam, my heart leapt. I wanted to run to him, have him hold me, soothe away all the pain of the last week and fear of tonight. But we had to introduce the dogs first.

We walked to each other as Perrin and Cole had a little sniff of each other. There was no immediate dislike.

"Hello, Sweetheart." His voice took my breath away.

"Hi," I said.

"Cute hat."

"Arse." I was smiling, though.

"I've missed you," he smiled broadly.

I gave him a small smile.

Liam farrowed his eyebrows. "These two look like they are ok," he said. "Let's go for a walk, shall we?"

I nodded, and Liam leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before we started to walk. We went side by side, keeping the dogs apart. Liam put his arm around my shoulder.

"You're very quiet this afternoon," he said after a few minutes.

"I'm nervous."

"About the dogs or tonight?" He asked. "Or something else?"

"Tonight." I felt like a petulant child with all these short remarks, but I couldn't give him anymore just yet. I let my head rest on his shoulder to try to let him know he wasn't the reason I was acting distant.

Liam squeezed me. "You'll be ok. You're going to be dressed beautifully and appropriately. No one is going to laugh at you. You'll see. Myra and Boyd are all excited to meet you. This is Myra's boyfriends first red carpet, too, so you won't be the only virgin." He paused and chuckled. "Although, I had better keep you two apart. He's a sparky? I think that's the word. I don't want him stealing you away from me. I know how much you love tradies."

I laughed. Liam had said all the right things in a few moments, and I felt calm again. At least calm enough that I can have a conversation. "Thanks, Liam," I said and kissed his cheek.

We walked for about half an hour. The dogs walked together for a bit. Perrin, being so old, was pretty laid back about the whole thing and Cole, while curious, just seemed happy to be making a new friend.

When we got back to Liam's house, we let them leashes off, and Perrin had a sniff around the yard. Cole either followed behind him or bounced around in front of him as if he were saying, "come look at this place over here."

While Perrin explored, Liam stood behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes a moment, listening to the sounds of the city.

"You're such a good hugger," I told Liam as I turned around in his arms and put my arms around his neck. I buried my face into his shirt, seeking his warmth and familiar scent.

"A compliment. From you? With no sarcasm?" Liam teased. "It must be my lucky day."

"Just shut up and kiss me," I said, and I lifted my head to meet his. Our kisses were soft at first, but they became more than that very quickly.

Liam pulled away and said, "we aren't alone. Ryan is here." Liam suggested that Ryan stay with the dogs while we were out. He would be back on Sunday and Monday, too, to take Cole for a walk and play.

I sighed. "Riza will be here soon anyway. We better get these guys inside and settled."

We took the dogs inside and got them set up. Then and I met Ryan, who was working in Liam's study. I don't know what I expected from Ryan, but a Scottish Hercules was not it. He was at least as large as Liam, had dark hair and green eyes and although he paled in comparison to Liam, he was handsome and instantly likeable.

We shook hands, and he said, "it's nice to meet you, Lana. I've heard a lot about you, so it's nice to put a face to the name." His accent was noticeable but not thick, and he spoke with a confident calmness that must be essential in his job. He doesn't mention or look at my scarf, which is a relief. I smiled and said, "Same. I keep hearing all these names, so it's nice to meet finally."

Liam gets me to put Ryans number in my phone. He said I should call Ryan if I need to contact him if he's not reachable while filming. I look at Ryan, and he nods as he says, "it's my job."

I do it, but I roll my eyes. He's not my assistant.

We let Ryan get back to work, and we go out to my car to bring my stuff in. By the time I've set up Perrin's things and sorted out my put my bags away, Riza and Jen arrive.

Liam opened the door for them, and Riza stood stunned for a moment. "Damn, you're built like a brick shithouse." Riza was very petite, half a head shorter than me, so you'd think she'd be used to everyone being bigger than her.

Liam, bless his cotton socks, laughed and put his hand out. "You must be Riza."

Riza took his hand, "yeah, mate, how's it going?" Liam stood aside to let her come in. She was hauling a massive makeup case, and Liam offered to take it for her. I thought she would bristle at his offer, but instead, she just gave it to him.

I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head, indicating my surprise. She just shrugged and gave me a strange look, and looked straight back at him. Riza is a pocket rocket type and prefers to be seen as one of the boys a lot of times. Andy even invited her to his bucks weekend despite her being my maid of honour, so the whole interaction was unusual.

Jen came in and introduced herself to Liam, and it was a much more civilised exchange than Riza's.

I gave them both hugs and kisses on the cheek. "Thanks for doing this, Jen and you too, Riza."

"No worries," Riza said.

Liam offered them both some wine and looked at me to see if I wanted one. I agreed, and we all sat in the lounge room.

Riza grabbed my hand when Liam had his back turned, "Sorry Lans, I think I got star struck. I'm a fucking dickhead."

Jen and I laughed at her, and I said, "serves you right for taking the piss out of me last night."

Liam came back with glasses and a bottle of white wine and poured us all a drink before taking a seat next to me. He sat next to me, resting his arm on the lounge behind me and put his ankle on his knee. His foot bounced, and I looked at him, and it struck me that he was anxious.

I put my hand on his foot to soothe him and turned to Riza and said, "did I tell you that Liam planned a trip to Mt Hotham this winter? I think it was June? Queens Birthday weekend? Before your Mum comes. Anyway, Riza, you spent a few winters there. Got any ideas for some good runs?"

That was it, the two of them talked about skiing, and the tension in the air lifted. I even swapped seats with Riza and sat with Jen for a bit. Once I could tell Liam and Riza were comfortable with each other, I asked Liam where Jen could set up.

Liam said to go to the master on the third, and he went to get up to take us there. I told him Jen, and I could be fine, and he smiled at me and kept talking to Riza. Jen and I smiled at each other and went up to get ready.

Part 19

#original character #original fiction #romantic story #happy ever after

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