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#yeah roast me if you want just know I am more correct than anyone on earth at any time
clingyduoapologist · 1 year
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Ok now that I’ve let wake up and it’s over grow on me time for the new official clingyduoapolagist lovejoy rankings WOOT WOOT (not the including the covers because I’ve never listens to any of them dorry)
1. As always, Sex Sells. To me this is peak lovejoy. Good memories of the first ep, very funny story behind its creation, perfect blending of music and vocals, nothing more you could ask for.
2. It’s all futile. BRO THIS SHIT BANGS SO HARD. While I prefer sex sells, I can easily see how someone could perform this one (and at the risk of sounding parasocial, the fact that Wilbur was able to turn a song from a really dark time in his life into this massive almost tongue-n-cheek album ender is really special to me :’) )
3. You’ll understand when you’re older. Man this is just such a bop, the narrative and the instrumentation are top notch.
4. Call me what you like. BARELY misses the top 3 (and being honest 3 and 4 are pretty much interchangeable for me). Man does this go hard. And the spoken word bridge into the final chorus?? Chef’s Kiss.
5. Cause for concern. This song is weird because I always forget about it but then whenever I remember to listen to it it floors me. Deserved spot all around.
6. Portrait of a blank slate. Another case of 2 completely interchangeable songs with 5 and 6, b it man the instrumentation on this song is AMAZING.
7. Concrete. Honestly this may just be bias but man this song is just such a solid bop. While I don’t hold it quite as highly as the top 5/6, I’m never upset when this song comes on.
8. Oh yeah you gonna cry. Again 7 and 8 vary based on mood but ugh I just love this songs energy. It’s like if you turned a shit eating grin into a song and I love it.
9. Warsaw. I need to listen to this more to really settle my mind on it but it’s definitely a bop.
10. Consequences. Banger but again don’t have a lot of thoughts on it.
11. Model busses. Such a sleeper pick fr. Again I forget about sometimes but it really is a bop.
12. Taunt. No strong feelings, just a nice generally okay song.
13. One Day. I like the music video and this song can shoot up depending on my mood, not really feeling it today tho.
14. Perfume. This is the hipster in me talking but like, it’s fine? Tumblr kinda overhyped it before I listened to it so that’s probably why my opinion of it suffered, but I just never got the hype for this one. Not bad at all tho, 6.8/10
15. The Fall. Yeah again this is another hipster take and I fully acknowledge that, but still not my favorite.
16. Golden Hour. Fine? Idk I might have to listen to this more.
17. Scum. Now listen, I can 100% see the appeal, but you need to understand that I am a basic bitch and this one just does not do it for me, very sorry scum fans (tho it gets points for being a cTommycore song)
Anyways YUP there it is the official rankings!!! If you disagree you’re wrong anyways bye ❤️
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existslikepristin · 3 years
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Yexercise
This was the vote story immediately after Movie Night. Note: image has all three members from the beginning, but it ended up being all Yeri.
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Tags: TheLounge, Red Velvet, Yeri, male reader insert, blowjob, titfucking, anal, va--nilla sex, workout sex, exhaustion, kink talk, appearances from Wendy/Seulgi/Irene but JoY hAs A bOyFrIeNd
~~~~~
"Hey, thanks. You don't need to give me the discount though," you say. You put your wallet back in your pocket, pick up the bag of muffins, and take the coffee from the guy across the counter.
"Nonsense! The Lounge wouldn't be so successful without your help. Besides, the profit margin on that stuff is insane."
The two of you chuckle with each other for a moment, and you smell the coffee he practically gave you free. Fresh roasted and ground on location, not too much sugar, and slightly more cream than usual. "Damn, man. This stuff smells like heaven."
"Heaven? Haha! More like Brazil! But speaking of heaven, who's the lucky lady today? You never get more than one muffin on your own."
You shrug. The man knows you, that's for sure. "Well, not a date this time. Wendy asked me to meet her here,"
"Oh, Red Velvet?"
"Yup. I think it's a business thing. I was asking her about song composing but I'm not supposed to tell you she's getting into that."
"Of course." He raises his eyebrows and flattens his mouth. "You know how Mr. SM can be about these things."
That's exactly what SinB and Eunha said and did a couple days ago, and nobody ever explained what they meant. "Actually, I--"
"Ah, there she is! And Seulgi and Yeri too!"
You turn around to see that he is definitely correct. Holding the door open is Wendy, dressed in a blue-and-white-striped sweater that sags off one of her shoulders, baggy blue jeans, and white sneakers. Her light brown hair is draped over one shoulder. Her casual outfit is contrasted by her exceptional, yet minimal make up.
Yeri has already passed her and entered the building. Unlike Wendy, her make up consists of some lazy eyeliner and not much else. Your heart skips a beat when you see her light gray yoga pants are as tight as a second skin, though her pink hoodie hangs just low enough to see any of her ass. She's cut her hair into a short bob again, and dyed it dirty blonde.
Seulgi follows Yeri, and certainly looks the most put-together overall. Her jet black hair is pulled into a ponytail so you can see her glamorous earrings and bright red lips. She's wearing a nearly wrinkleless white dress shirt barely see through enough to show her bra, black business pants, and short black heels.
A shiver crashes down your spine, nearly making you drop your coffee. You're not sure you'll ever get used to seeing all these gorgeous idols in person, and especially not when they're approaching you.
"Hey, sorry we're late," Wendy opens the conversation, "We got held up for a minute."
Yeri smirks. It looks like she's paying more attention to the menu overhead than to any one person. "Held up by some Canadian grandma driving."
Wendy frowns. "It's called a speed limit."
Seulgi gives you a short bow. You do the same back. Finally, a regular greeting. Then again, it makes sense since she's the one you've spent the least amount of time with. That's not saying much though, since you haven't had much opportunity to get to know any member of Red Velvet. "Good to see you again," she says formally.
"Oh shut up Sluggo, you know why we're here." Yeri points up at the menu. "I'll take the mocha--"
"What she means is... Well, can we talk?" Wendy asks, looking more than a little flustered.
"Yeah, totally. I got some muffins for us to share, but I thought it was just going to be the two of--"
"Fuck yeah, bro! Thanks!" Yeri snatches the muffin bag out of your hand and has one halfway in her mouth before you can protest.
Wendy sighs. "Let's sit down, shall we?"
Getting a table with room for four is a simple matter. Seulgi sits opposite from you, Yeri next to her, and Wendy next to you.
Yeri's busy eating both of the muffins you bought, which may be the only reason Wendy is able to finish her thoughts. "So, we don't have a whole lot of time. We're actually-- well, two of us are going to a gig in like fifteen minutes, but you know we're really busy. I mean, of course, you know us, and we've got a thing in fifteen-- Ugh. I'm sorry, I'm so bad at this. How's your day been?"
Normally in all of your previous conversations, short as they have been, you've noticed that Wendy is generally much more confident than this. "Um, pretty good. It's still early though. Just got here myself, so I haven't had time to do much today."
"Oh geez, that's right. I'm sorry, the last few weeks have really just been blending together, you know? So like, you know Yerin right? I mean, of course you know Yerin. So Yerin has been talking to Joy, and you've been brought up in that, and so we know a little bit about you."
You chuckle and scratch the back of your neck. "Ah, crap. If Yerin's been talking about me, I can only imagine the kinds of things she's said." Obviously, your history with Yerin and her perverted attitude can mean one thing.
Seulgi blushes. "Y-yeah. Is it okay that we're talking to you about this?"
"I mean, we haven't really talked about anything specific yet."
"They mean sex." Yeri blurts out, slightly muffled by muffin.
You laugh. Thinking back on Wendy's texts and her vague word choices, you figured she had a serious question for you, but you still can't figure out what it is she wanted to talk to you about. It's a little awkward that she brought two of her group members with her if she's looking for advice, too. "I kind of figured that's what it was about. But hell yeah, I'm an open book. What's on your mind?"
Wendy lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh my gosh, thank you. I thought I was going to die from my own awkwardness there."
She pauses as a barista walks over with Yeri's drink. You make note of the way, out of the corner of her eye, Yeri watches the barista's ass as she walks away.
Wendy continues with a bright smile that you're a little more used to seeing, "So uh, the three of us are currently looking for something, and wanted to know what your rates are."
You hesitate, piecing together what Wendy just said with the fact that the conversation has been defined as one about sex. "Has Yerin been... saying I'm a prostitute?"
Suddenly, it feels like you're in a pressure cooker. Silence grips the table as the tension rises. Wendy stares at you like a deer in the headlights, her eyes widening slowly and her smile fading.
The sound of the steamer behind the store's counter sets off a chain reaction of noise.
"OH MY GOD," Wendy shouts, "I AM SO SORRY!"
Yeri slaps the table and bursts into laughter, sending crumbs of muffin everywhere. Seulgi is glowing red, shaking all over, and looking frantically between you, Wendy, and the mess Yeri is making.
"I DIDN'T MEAN-- OH GOD--" Wendy grabs your arm with both hands, crushing down as if she's afraid you're about to leave. She lowers her voice to a hushed tone, but speaks at the speed of a runaway train, "I'm so sorry I didn't mean anything by it I supp-- We all support the sex work industry and I'm sorry I didn't me--"
The other two have effectively disappeared. Seulgi, with her arms covering her face and crouched low in her chair. Yeri has fallen to the floor, truly making the scene worse with how hard she's laughing and gasping for air.
For as mildly insulted as you feel, you aren't very surprised, considering Yerin's habit of using insults and crude words as terms of endearment. You smirk and put a hand on Wendy's shoulder. You try to calm her down, but are slightly afraid she won't hear you through her rambling, "Hey, hey. You're good. I'm not a prostitute, but it's fine."
Wendy slows down, but appears to be on the verge of hyperventilation. "I can't believe this. I shouldn't have assumed. Oh god. I am such a dumbass."
You get out of your chair and wrap your arms around her. She immediately shuts up, face melting into your chest. "You're good, Wendy. Honestly, that's hilarious more than anything."
Yeri is calming down a little as well, with the aid of Seulgi furiously brushing away the streaks of black makeup running off of her eyes. Even so, she can barely manage to get back into her chair, still having giggle fits and clutching at her stomach.
"I might not be one, but I think I can help you out anyway. What exactly are you looking for?" You let go of Wendy and watch her dab at a few tears that started with a napkin.
"No, no. I don't think I can say after all that. I am... so embarrassed right now."
Still fighting to catch her breath, Yeri chimes in, "We're too busy to find dick so she tried to find a way to schedule it. Holy shit, 'Sup? How's your day? How much do you charge for a good time, ho?' Right? Wow, Wendy."
"Yeri! That's not what she said!" Seulgi slaps at Yeri's arm and nervously looks around for anyone who might still be watching.
"Might as well have been! This is the best!"
You can't help but chuckle along with Yeri. You stare in her direction, hoping to get her attention with your next sentence, "You don't have to pay to fuck me."
That shuts Yeri up. She stares back. "Woah, you serious?"
You sit back down and glance at Wendy and Seulgi. They're staring too.
"Yeah, why not? Sounds like fun. Hell, I'd go for it right now, but you've got a gig to get to, right?"
Seulgi shakily raises a hand as if she's asking permission to speak. "O-only two of us are going to that."
Underneath the table, you feel someone's foot sliding up and down your leg. You have no doubt it's Yeri's, as she speaks up again, "Why don't you guess which one of us isn't busy today?"
Yeah. Why don't you?
Options for Part 1 [IMPORTANT (duh)]: 1. (Picked:) Is it Yeri? It seems too obvious, given how eager she obviously is. But she could be straight up trolling you. That seems like something she'd do. If it's her, you imagine you'll end up exhausted soon. She seems to have a LOT of energy to burn.
2. Is it Wendy? She's the one who organized this meetup after all. Maybe she'll ask you to come along as she drops the other members off at their gig. If she's the one, you can guess you'll have a very nice, sweet time. She's got those wifey vibes.
3. Is it Seulgi? She's been very quiet this whole time. She definitely took the time to dress to impress today. Maybe it's you she means to impress. If you're spending the day with her, you have no clue what to expect. You've got to watch out for the quiet ones...
~~~~~
You look underneath the table and see it is, in fact, Yeri who is stroking your leg with her foot. Her running shoes aren't exactly making it comfortable or sexy.
"I'm going to guess it's you."
"Sure is, babe." Yeri winks. Wendy and Seulgi both groan in unison. Yeri doesn't seem to mind them at all.
"So," Wendy says slowly, "you really meant that about having sex with us? I don't want to pressure you."
You look across the table and see Seulgi biting her lip, not in an intentionally sexy way, but maybe nervously?
"Yup. I'm not free literally all the time, so we might have to actually schedule it, which definitely feels weird, but I'm up for it."
Wendy grins. "Awesome! Thanks! Thanks? Thanks."
"But hey, to be totally clear, why me? You guys know you can have sex with each other, right?"
Seulgi pops in, "We have. It's just... we all want different things that others aren't comfortable with."
"Yeah, getting fucked softly by strapons is boooring," Yeri says. She glares at Wendy.
"H-hey! You know my hip--"
You're about to ask what they all want to do that's so radically different, or why they assume you're okay with all of it, but Wendy's phone alarm goes off.
"Crap. So, can we talk about this later? We have to get to our shoot."
"Totally, sure. Text me when you're off?"
Wendy and Seulgi are already starting to walk away. Yeri has made herself quite comfortable where she is though.
"I'll text you, yeah! Um, are you okay with babysitting that one for a bit?"
Yeri scrunches up her nose. "The fuck, bitch?!"
You laugh. "Yeah, why not?"
Wendy smiles and rushes out the door. Seulgi follows, but only after giving you a polite bow. "See you again soon!"
The busy life of a big three idol, you muse to yourself.
"Hmmm, seems we've got some time to kill, huh?" Yeri leans forward on the table, squeezing her tits through her bulky sweatshirt.
"Guess we do. I have one formal request to have sex with you and another to babysit you. Bit unusual."
Yeri groans. "Yeah fuck that. You realize I'm well into my twenties right? I want your cock, not a bedtime story."
You decide against telling her about the stories you swapped with SinB just a couple nights ago. "Couldn't put you to bed if I wanted to with that extra large mocha you've got there," you say instead.
“You could put me in a bed.”
“Snappy one. I like it.”
Yeri smirks and takes a sip of her coffee. “I don’t mean right now though. I’ve got something in mind already.”
“You mean what you were going to pay me to do?”
“Sure was, ho. Why? You still want the money?”
You sigh. “Well I’m really not in the business. So if you really want to spend something on me, maybe get me some breakfast? You ate mine.”
“You can eat me.”
After you give her a brief, unamused look, she relents. “Okay. Okay. What do you want? You can eat it on the way.”
“I see you like to make assumptions. And I’ll take a smoked salmon bagel.”
“I’m used to my assumptions being met. And I didn’t know they made those here.”
“Do you assume you’re going to get your way today? And they’re delicious.”
“Maybe I do assume that. I guess we’ll see. And I’ll have one too.”
Yeri hops off of her seat and goes back to the counter to put in your order. Thanks to the lack of a line or crowd, the bagels are ready by the time you’ve followed her. You open the bag.
“Four? Feeling hungry this morning?”
“Oh I’m starving for dick, but only one of those is for me. The others are for you. You’ll need the energy.”
“Question.” You stop, The Lounge’s front door half open in your hand. “Do you always speak so boldly and then follow it up immediately with something vague?”
She smirks and you watch as one of her hands slides around your waist and traces your butt before giving it a tight squeeze. She reaches past you with her other hand and pulls the door open the rest of the way so she can step outside, slowly twirling around you. “No,” she says, “Sometimes, I don’t speak.”
Smooth, you think.
The walk to wherever Yeri is taking you is a pleasant one. She takes your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. She walks in sync with you. She makes easy conversation about work, food, and ideal local vacation spots. She nibbles on her bagel slowly enough that she finishes right about when you finish all three of yours. You almost forget that less than an hour ago she was making lewd comments about hiring you for sex, and that she is currently taking you to a location where she intends to fuck you.
It’s not long before you reach a building that she pulls you into, swiping a key card to open the door. The inside isn’t particularly remarkable, and you don’t see any signs anywhere that would reveal the building’s purpose. Three flights of stairs going up and one more key card swipe through a door, and you find yourself in a small gym.
One wall is effectively a single giant mirror like a dance studio would have, and there’s a variety of equipment you recognize as being for pilates as well as weight training and a treadmill. The floor is ever so slightly spongy-soft, it’s well lit when she flips on the lights, there’s a large potted fern in one corner with a small stereo next to it, and it’s otherwise undecorated. It smells like sweat.
“Personal, private gym?” you ask.
“Personal, private gym,” Yeri says. She drops her purse and kicks off her shoes next to the door, motioning for you to do the same.
“Not that I’m complaining, but couldn’t we have used a room at The Lounge, or your place, or mine?”
“Maybe. But I’m comfortable here. And there aren’t any company bitches here to get on my case for getting our freak on.”
Yeri walks into the middle of the room and pulls her hoodie over her head. It turns out she was only wearing a purple sports bra underneath.
Although she is still fully dressed as far as modern societal standards are concerned, you find yourself staring at her incredibly sexy body as if it’s totally exposed. Her leggings are exactly as skin-tight as you were hoping, practically revealing her firm ass. If she’s even wearing anything underneath them, you can’t tell. But as she lifts her arms above her head to toss her hoodie behind her and to stretch, it’s her mostly bare back and the toned muscle running up and down either side of her spine that catches you off guard. You can’t take your eyes away. She looks at you in the mirror and catches you staring.
“I’m glad you like,” she says, putting one finger between her teeth in the corner of her mouth and giving you a sultry look you didn’t think she was capable of. She twists to look at you over her shoulder. “Your turn.”
You remove your jacket and pull your shirt off. While it’s over your eyes, you hear padding footsteps coming your way, followed by a body being pressed up against yours. By the time your shirt is totally off, her hands are sliding up your back. This is one seriously forward idol you’re dealing with.
“So here we are. I picked the location. What’s next?” Yeri asks, “I’ve got a naughty thought or two, but maybe you have an idea you want to surprise me with.”
Options for Part 2:
1. No surprise, nothing fancy. Just get naked and get started. 2. There must be a shower in this building if it contains gyms. Ask her to take you there and you can get her wet all over. 3. (Picked:) Yeri was literally going to hire you for this, and “naughty thoughts” sound fun. Ask her what those are all about.
~~~~~
“Naughty thoughts huh? Why don’t you tell me about those?”
Yeri grimaces and looks off to the side. “Uh...”
“Uh…” You look down at her, confused. “What? What.”
“I was, you know.”
You hesitate…
“No! I don’t know! What?!”
“Like, I was expecting you to just rip off my bra or pants and go to town, you know?”
“But you said you have naughty thoughts. Why wouldn’t I ask about those?”
“I don’t know! I was counting on you not asking about them!”
You rub your eyes. You’re about to ask why she would bother bringing up the option if she was going to make such a big deal out of it, but she speaks first.
“I want to get fucked while I’m working out.”
“That’s it?” you ask after a moment of hesitation.
“It’s not all I want to do.”
“Well, care to share with the rest of the class? Or are you too embarrassed about having really normal-sounding kinks?”
Yeri shoves you back and takes a few steps toward the pilates equipment. “Are we doing this or not?”
“I’m all for it.”
She grabs the sides of her bra and with no small amount of difficulty pulls it off over her head. You easily forget about the awkwardness as you watch her breasts squeeze out slowly and eventually drop the rest of the way.
Yeri's breasts live up to the hype. When she beckons you over to her (in the same way you would beckon for a dog, annoyingly), you realize your opportunity to touch them for yourself is at hand. Literally.
You grab her by the shoulders first though, spinning her around so she's facing the pilates bench and the mirror. You wrap your arms under hers to feel her tits from behind. They're more than your hands can take in a single grasp. But you're not in this for speed. You bend down to kiss her neck, which gets a satisfied growl from her.
"Bite me," she says. It's not a softly spoken statement, and it's right next to your ear thanks to your positioning, so you're stunned for about half a second.
You do as she demands, taking a small bit of her neck between your teeth and sucking. If she wants hickeys you won't argue.
You're rewarded with a smack on the top of the head. Confused with her behavior again, you pull away.
"I didn't say nibble. I said bite."
"Oh. Uh, sure."
"Like, draw blood."
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah! Like, if you're gonna bite, it's gotta be hard! Really get your canine teeth in there, right? Just fucking give it to me."
You stare at her for a moment. "Let's, um, start with the exercise thing first, yeah?"
Seeming suddenly confident again, Yeri hops onto the pilates bench and flips herself upside-down using the bars. She stretches herself out into a position you imagine can't be easy to hold for long. "Sure, if you can reach me."
You squint at her for just a second. She's switching between embarrassment and confidence so fast you can't figure out what's really going on. But at least right now, she seems fine.
Standing up on the bench, you find you’re at nearly the perfect height to put your face between her legs. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do. You grab the waistband of her leggings and pull them down to her knees. Underneath, absolutely nothing. No underwear, no hair. Just a completely bare pussy and smooth ass tensed with the effort of holding her body weight in an upward arch.
It’s a tight fit getting your head between her legs, given that she doesn’t have a lot of space to spread them apart. The reward is worth the trouble.
You flatten your tongue against her pussy to give it a full, long lick. She responds with a long, breathy moan. And since she gives you no reason to stop, you do it again, and again, and again. Each time, Yeri shivers just a little bit, making it obvious how much she’s enjoying herself.
Hands on either side of her hips, just touching for the sake of touching and not holding her up, you close your eyes and focus on your work. Not work. You’re not getting paid for this. Stop thinking about that.
She’s got a mellow taste as far as you can tell. It’s got the tang you would expect, but it’s maybe a little musky. You don’t try to distract yourself, but trying to figure out how Yeri tastes the same way men’s cologne smells is really messing with your head.
It’s when her hips suddenly drop away from your hands that you realize she has been holding herself in place for several minutes. She’s breathing heavily and she doesn’t fall only because her leggings are caught on your shoulders. She doesn’t seem seriously exhausted or anything though. Maybe this was just the first rep.
“Tired?” you ask anyway.
“I also want to try pet play.”
You stare down at Yeri. You’re sure you heard the words that came out of her mouth correctly, but they weren’t the answer to your question. “So… hang on. Back up. What?”
“You know. Meow.” Holding herself up with one hand, she uses the other to make the classic neko paw.
You tilt your head and rub your temples. “Alright. Um, I think we should probably work out what’s really happening here. You gave me a lot to work with.”
Yeri hoists her legs back over your head and stands on the bench again, kicking her leggings off the rest of the way. “Yeah! What do you think? Those are my ideas!”
“They are varied.”
“Is that good or bad?” Suddenly Yeri looks embarrassed again.
“No! They’re good! I’m not here to kink shame you. I don’t know if I’m really into all of that, or if they can all be incorporated into a single session, but I’m totally up for some of it.”
Session? This isn’t an appointment, and this isn’t my job! you think, furiously. You’re suddenly worried if every minor reference to work or professionalism is going to sound like it’s connected to sex from now on.
Yeri smirks, “Oh, okay. That’s fair. Anything sounds good! What do you want to do… with me?” She punctuates the last two words by grabbing her tits and winking at you.
Deadline for this vote is 12/20 at 12:00 UTC! No guarantees on how fast Part 4 will come out, but work should slow down soon, and it’s not like I’ll be going anywhere for a holiday because of this virus, so you can probably expect Part 5 and maybe also another short over that weekend! Options for Part 3: 1. (Picked:) Workout sex sounds like it will wear you out, but getting sweaty with a partner has never been a problem before! 2. Pet play? What was that meow about?! Maybe you want her to play a cat, or you can convince her she'd be something else? 3. Oh fuck, right. Yeri likes vampires. Bite her. [Warning for blood stuff, though not super gory or anything Red Flavor joke]
~~~~~
“Tell me more about this workout sex,” you say. To avoid letting the mood die down any more than your confusion already might have you inch forward, one hand on Yeri’s breast, the other wrapping around the small of her back. You pull her in closer toward you and put your mouth to hers.
Yeri hums into your kiss. She takes a moment to enjoy it before she pulls back. “It’s exactly what it sounds like, like what I said.” She comes in for a couple more small kisses and continues, “I work out. While I do that, you fuck me.”
You bring her back into the kiss, keeping it chaste for now. At least, as chaste as you can get while you’re more than half naked and she’s completely naked and you’re discussing exactly how you’re about to bang.
“I can start over there and bench while I suck your cock.”
You moan your agreement into another kiss.
“Then I can do my squats on it while you take your turn benching.”
You moan your “Huh?” into another kiss.
“Then you can do your squats by pile driving me into the floor.”
So it seems she plans on you working out too.
“So? Are we going to do this?” Yeri holds you back.
You take a deep breath. Whatever higher power you believe in has brought you this far. You’re not going to let it down.
“Why don’t you get down there and find out?”
Yeri practically jumps across the room. She grabs a couple of dumbbells and immediately gets into bench press position.
When you walk over, ditching the rest of your clothes on the way, Yeri looks up at you and smirks. She wiggles the weights around and, in a sing-song voice, says, “Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb.”
You stand above her, unsure how to respond.
“Get it? Dumb Dumb? Dumbbells? The weights?”
“Uh, no?”
“What?! That’s like, a classic!”
“Is that one of yours?”
“Yes! You haven’t heard it?!”
“You just called your own song a classic.”
Yeri rolls her eyes. “Not classic as in old. As in-- I’m about to suck your dick, so laugh at my jokes.”
That makes you actually snort back a laugh. “Okay, I guess I get it now.”
She smiles and hangs her head off the edge of the bench. You make your way next to her head and she licks her lip at the sight of your dick at nearly her eye level.
“Just don’t go too hard okay? I’ve got a gag reflex.”
You crouch just enough so that your dick touches her lips, which she happily opens. The moment her tongue reaches out and touches you, you feel a bit weak in the knees. How you’re going to keep this up and also do real exercise, you have no idea.
Yeri cautiously starts pumping her weights up and down at her sides. You take the same slow pace with moving back and forth. After the mention of her gag reflex you don’t dare thrust for real, keeping it to an inch or so at a time. Yeri more than makes up for the lack of depth with her tongue though, twirling and curling it around randomly.
Thankfully there’s a bar across the bench that you can lean on to prevent a total collapse. Just beneath your head, you watch as Yeri’s chest and arms flex to push the weights up, then relax and spread out as she lowers them. The steady motion, the subtle definition of her body, and her heavy tits are a sight to behold, and so behold it all you do.
Yeri’s tongue sweeps across the bottom of your dick, and you feel a burning desire to be deeper inside of her. You decide to try your luck and push forward a bit farther. She doesn’t so much as lose the tempo in her lifting, so you go farther. Too much more and you’re sure you’re going to hurt her, but her legs are spread to either side of the bench, leaving something else open that you could probably get much deeper in.
You’re suddenly jolted back to awareness by the sound of weights slamming to the floor. Yeri grabs your hips and holds you tightly in place. You think she may have forgotten about the exercise after all with how intensely she’s sucking. But then, she pushes you away and gasps for air.
“That’s one set down!” She grins up at you and strokes your dick.
“Isn’t it bad etiquette to drop your weights like that?”
“Personal, private gym, remember? My gym, my rules.”
“Well not to break your rules, but I want to try something else in your next set.”
“Why? Didn’t you like that?”
“Oh I did, but that’s just the problem. You’ve got me worked up now, and I’m having a hard time holding back.”
Yeri gulps, and you see her whole body shiver. “I-I mean, I’ll try.” She picks her dumbbells off the floor and lays back again, sticking her tongue out and opening her mouth wide.
“I didn’t mean deepthroat! I just meant I wanted to fuck your pussy.”
You aren’t sure if Yeri’s sigh is one of disappointment or relief. “Ah, I see. Well by all means go for it!”
She scoots herself down the bench so her head isn’t hanging off and starts her next set. You walk around her slowly, just taking in the sight, admiring her again. She’s clearly used to the exercise, because her skin is just barely starting to show a few dots of sweat.
Once you’re between her legs, it’s a simple matter to crouch again just a little to maintain the correct height. You couldn’t see it from your previous angle, but Yeri is soaking wet. It’s only been a few minutes really, but already there’s a puddle underneath her. You mentally give yourself a pat on the back for contributing to that.
Yeri’s entrance is tight, but pushing into her is smooth sailing with how much natural lube she’s producing. Every time she lifts her weights, her muscles tense and she subtly clenches down around you. You might have thought this was a weird concept to begin with, but you’re definitely on board now. Not quite in time with her lifts, you thrust in and out. Looking down, you can see her toes curling. She’s clearly putting in a lot of effort not to squirm out of position.
“Seems like you’re having fun, huh?”
You don’t get an answer. You’re slightly annoyed that she seems to be ignoring you, but you realize she’s probably trying to count reps. But it would be fun if you could make her lose track…
You put your hands on either side of the bench and get a good grip, preparing to turn into a fucking machine.
Unfortunately, you’re the one who gets a surprise when Yeri drops her weights again. Her head shoots up to yours for a needy, open-mouthed kiss. Her damp body presses against yours.
“This is...” she says between the moments she has her tongue in your mouth, “so much better… than trying it… with a dildo!”
You try to push Yeri away so you can get a word in, but her arms and legs are both clamped around you. You give in and lower her down so she’s on her back again, putting you right where you need to be so you can roll your hips.
Yeri squeals and her grip on you gets even tighter. “More!” she shouts when she pulls away for a half a second.
You strain to get your hands under her arms and break out of her grasp. Her nails rake across your back quite painfully as you do, but you manage to pin her arms to her sides. She glares up at you, biting her lip and giggling.
“More?” she asks this time.
“Don’t you have one more set to do? Isn’t three sets a thing?”
Yeri scowls. “I changed my mind. It’s your turn to bench. I need to do my squats right now.”
You roll your hips again. You watch, amused, as Yeri’s fingers clench at the air over and over again. You’re a little worried about what might happen when you let her go, considering she seemed to have some kind of blood fetish. But then again, she might just not be trying all that hard to get away. She’s the one with a fairly athletic career and a workout plan after all.
Even so, you can’t help but tease her with another roll of your hips. You have difficulty finding your own words with how good she feels, tight around your cock. “It was your idea to get fucked while you worked out. I’m just holding you to your word, you know.”
A sly smile curls across Yeri’s face, though it trembles when you grind into her again. “I’m keeping my word! I normally only do two sets at a time!”
“I’m not so sure I believe that.” Her legs let up a bit, so you use the leeway to get in a short thrust.
“You calling me a liar?”
“Of course not. Why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t call me a liar you get to pick what hole I fuck you with while you’re benching.”
She makes a valid argument.
Deadline for this vote will be 12/26 at 6:00 UTC (just in case some of you will be too busy the day before with holiday stuff) Options for Part 4: 1. No complaints from you if she continues with her pussy! 2. Then again, you’ve got a thing for anal, and she’s offering. 3. She could give you a blowjob. It seems like she wants the practice. 4. (Picked:) But also… Yeri is the first person in one of these stories with big enough boobs for a titfuck.
~~~~~
“Well since you’re definitely done with your sets, and since you’re not lying, you wouldn’t mind titfucking me?”
A few quiet moments go by. Yeri puts a hand on her chin, looking down between your bodies, then to her boobs, then at the dumbells on either side of her. She reaches down to grab the weights again.
“There’s lube in my bag. Grab that first.”
You smile and pull out of her pussy, which makes both of you take a sharp breath at the same time. “Doing more benches huh?”
“Well obviously. This is workout sex. I can’t give you a tit job while I’m squatting, so the best solution is for me to focus extra hard on my arms - which is definitely more than I normally do - so you can stand over me.”
Her bluff is pretty obvious, but it’s amusing, and you’re still getting what you asked for so you’re not going to push your luck by calling her out. This is something you’ve been trying to convince Yerin to try for a while, but she’s brushed it off every time. So if you aren’t getting a boob job here, you’re not sure when or even if you’ll have the chance again.
The lube you find in Yeri’s bag is vanilla scented. While you take a moment to enjoy the smell, Yeri lies down and starts another set with her six kilo weights.
You move to stand over her chest and enjoy watching her muscles work again from a different angle. This time you watch her breasts in particular, putting a hand down to lightly cup one and brush your thumb over her nipple. Much like before, Yeri’s focus on her workout is uncanny. You can’t get her to break, so you decide to help yourself.
You pour a generous amount of the lube into Yeri’s cleavage, smearing it all over. Your dick is still wet from her pussy, but this stuff will certainly last longer. The pleasant smell and the sight of her wet breasts turn on your instincts again. You lower yourself until your dick is resting on her, and you squeeze her tits together.
It’s not nearly as tight as anything else you’ve experienced today, of course, but it’s no less of an incredible feeling. When you start to move back and forth is when you realize how heavenly it is, even if it involves some extra effort. As you slide through Yeri’s cleavage, you notice the tiniest glance down from her. Is she losing her focus?
You smirk and reposition your hands a bit so you can casually rub her nipples between your fingers. Again, a small glance down. This time, it’s accompanied by the corners of her lips moving up.
“If you’re enjoying this already, wait until your hands are free to help out.”
“Ssshut up.”
Her arms tremble for a second. It would make sense if she’s getting distracted by the fact that she’s working out. But she hasn’t done that much, has she? Six kilos isn’t too crazy for an athletic idol like herself. You take a look over to the side again when her arms come all the way up.
There’s a mostly worn off line right before the six. She’s lifting nearly triple what you thought she was. Suddenly, you find yourself concerned with where they might land if she drops them again, given where your feet are, and you resolve to not distract her anymore.
That doesn’t mean you’re going to stop the titfucking of course.
You shift your feet back a little and have to lean forward, but you manage to get back into rhythm quickly. You slide in time with her lifting. The next time you look at her face, Yeri’s eyes are screwed shut and she’s biting her lip.
You aren’t able to contain a groan, and her eyes snap open and look into yours. She gives you a smile and after one last pump of her weights, she tosses them (thankfully) to the sides. Her hands clasp over the top of yours. Her breaths are labored, but she speaks through them just fine.
“I’m helping now. What am I waiting for?”
You pull one of your hands from under hers. It takes you no time at all to find her clit. Her knees come up to trap your arm there, as if you needed the additional encouragement. You circle it slowly with your fingers.
“Oh, I see now.” Yeri’s voice is quiet and her mouth quivers. She looks down at your cockhead poking out of her cleavage with hunger in her eyes.
You take your other hand away from hers, but only so you can put it back on top, where you guide her into kneading her breasts around your dick. She quickly picks up on the hint and squeezes down. She even takes the initiative and lifts her head to try to lick you as you thrust.
Unfortunately, she can’t quite reach, but you’re not going to let her effort go to waste. You hover your now free hand next to her pouty lips. You quickly go back in your mind to when she was very interested in biting, but you’ve already sealed your fate, and her mouth is wrapped around two of your fingers.
Something about watching her dutifully crushing her tits against your thrusting dick and sweetly sucking on your fingers with her eyes closed sets you off. You barely have the time to say, “I’m cumming.”
In that moment, Yeri’s eyes reopen and catch yours. She makes no move to change what she’s doing. So with one last thrust, you groan in ecstasy and orgasm.
Your cum first hits the bottom of her chin, then lands on her neck, then seeps out onto her chest, directed into different directions by her collarbone. She hardly reacts where you can see it, keeping her eyes locked onto yours and wrapping her tongue around your middle finger.
On the other hand, literally, her legs wrap around your arm and roughly pull your hand until it’s fully connected with her pussy. Your brain is still in a mid-orgasm haze, but it’s easy enough to realize what you’re supposed to be doing. You oblige, dipping two fingers inside her. That gets a happy hum out of Yeri, which you feel directly vibrating up your hand.
After you blink the stars out of your eyes, you look down and see that Yeri is scooping at your cum to bring it to her mouth. She sucks it in without letting go of your fingers. You would protest at the awkwardness of feeling your semen being swirled around your knuckles, but the greediness she displays is way too sexually charged for you to care about things like that anymore.
Eventually, she vacuums all of it down and off your hand, swallows, and releases you. She gives you an expectant look, eyebrows raised and mischievous smile plastered across her face.
You continue to finger her, but her eyes don’t move from yours. “Um. Wow, damn,” you say, not sure what else she wants.
Yeri’s eyebrows go higher. “You’re not going to mention…”
“Your amazing body? Or how hot it is when you’re sweating like that?”
Her smile turns into an absolute shit-eating grin. “Protein shakes are good after exercise!”
You bite your cheek to keep from… laughing? An exasperated sigh? You’re not sure, with how terrible and cliché of a line that would have been.
“Yup. Definitely something like that.”
Yeri giggles and pushes you back so she can sit up. She takes the hand you were fingering her with now. “So you still up for more? Joy says Yerin says you can usually go more than once.”
She starts to lick her juices off of your hand. You can’t help but admire her weird pervertedness.
Deadline for the Part 5 vote will be 1/1 at 12:00 UTC (because I am guaranteed not to work that day!) Options for Part 5: 1. Of course you’re still up for more, as long as you don’t have to deal with more of this workout bullshit! 2. (Picked:) You’ll do more, but only after she does the squats she said she was going to do. She doesn’t get to half ass her workout just because you’re here! 3. Nope. You’re out of here. See you around, sloot! 4. Maybe. But you'd actually like to maybe get to know Yeri a little first? You kind of jumped into this real fast.
~~~~~
“What? You’re already done with your workout? You’ve barely done anything though.”
Yeri gives you a dirty look. “I’d normally do more, duh. But you’re here right now.”
“Yeah, to fuck you while you work out.”
“Yeah, which you did.”
“Did you cum?”
“No, but that’s fine. I got what I wanted.”
“Do you want to?”
Yeri looks over at the squatting rack, chewing her lip. “I wouldn’t mind, but it’s hard to make me cum. And it would be dangerous while I’ve got something really heavy on top of me.”
“Challenge accepted then.”
She raises her eyebrows at you.
“You go hard on the rest of your workout and I’ll do the best I can to make you cum once you’re done.”
Yeri doesn’t say anything. She walks over to the rack though, and leans back against it. She looks you up and down, straight-faced.
“If you don’t cum, it’s not like you’re not getting your money’s worth.”
She still says nothing, her eyes landing on your dick.
“Because you’re not paying me for this. Because I’m not a prostitute…” You shrug, unsure of how to proceed when you’re being stared down naked.
“Let’s do it. I want to see if you can do it.”
“If I can? Well, what is it that makes it so hard to make you cum?”
Yeri bends over to grab some weights to put on the bar. “I dunno. If I knew, I wouldn’t have the problem.”
“You nervous?”
“It’s not like I haven’t had sex before.”
“Uncomfortable maybe?”
“No, I’m fine. A bit restless, but who isn’t?” Yeri stands under the bar, adjusting herself so her back is comfortably in the curve.
“I know a couple other people like that. We’ll do a little bit of experimenting. Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t.”
“Good enough for me.”
“Good enough huh?”
“Yup.”
“Sounds unenthusiastic. You sure you’re up for it?”
“I asked you for another round, remember? I just don’t want you getting your hopes up.”
You laugh. “Everything I could have hoped for is standing in front of me nude and about to do squats.”
Yeri chuckles and picks the bar off the rack. “Greasy.”
You just smile and watch as she does the first squat. It looks effortless. You don’t know enough about form to judge it, but it seems like it’s been practiced for quite some time. It’s smooth on the way down, and smooth on the way up. Graceful, even.
The grace of the action is slightly undercut by the fact that she is of course still naked, a little sweaty, and her chest is completely covered in lube. But that makes it no less attractive to you.
As she does more, you walk around, getting a good view from every angle. The mirror wall ensures that if she wants to, she can see you as well. But she seems focused again, staring herself in the eye.
Her breaths are labored. She inhales deeply as she goes down and exhales loudly as she comes up. Her skin starts to glisten all over as her effort comes out in her sweat. You reach out to touch her, but you suddenly get an idea and step back. Shortly after, she sets the bar back on the rack with a heavy sigh.
“What’s up? You can touch. It’s encouraged.”
You go back to her purse and pull out a water bottle you had seen earlier. “I’m going to hold off on touching you for a minute. I like this. I’m changing the plan. I’m not touching you until I can see how much effort you’re putting into this.”
A smirk creeps up one side of Yeri’s mouth. “You’re on,” she says. She catches the water bottle when you toss to her and takes a swig from it. Then she puts another five kilogram weight on either side of the bar.
As she gets into the next set, you move next to her and sit down on the floor. “Look at these hard-working legs,” you say. She didn’t respond the last time you talked to her, but she can still hear you… you assume. This is mostly just you saying your thoughts out loud, but you hope she’s paying attention.
“Taking on all of this to maintain the look of a perfect idol, but healthy. Damn, I would kill for your dedication.”
Glancing at the mirror you see another tiny smile on Yeri’s face.
“What would you say the ratio is? Your effort and practice versus your natural talent. What amount of each is it that makes your performances look so easy? Because watching you right now it has to be at least sixty percent or more in favor of the exercise.”
You reach out again like you’re going to touch her as she comes down, but you keep your hand just far enough away.
“And not just what you do, but the way this body of yours looks. If I wasn’t watching you sculpt it right now, I’d have figured it was sculpted by some Greek god. Belongs in a fucking art museum if you ask me.”
Your hand hovers extremely close to Yeri’s leg. You can actually feel the heat of her body, way above what you’d normally feel coming off a person. It’s like she’s a human furnace. And the amount of sweat on her is very noticeable now.
The bar catches on the rack again and Yeri bends over to grab the water again, drinking a few more swallows of it this time. “Museum my ass,” she says through a breathy laugh.
“That’s what I’m saying! One more set, right?”
Yeri stretches her arms, prompting you to wonder why she didn’t stretch before the workout. Your narrator says you shouldn’t think about it because it’s really hard to remember all of those kinds of details, and that’s not the point of word porn. But yes, you should be careful and stretch before working out.
“That’s right. I hope you’re ready to go again because I’m seriously wanting more.”
“Absolutely,” you say. You stand up and run a hand over Yeri’s butt and up her back, pressing roughly. “I don’t think I’ve even gone soft once since I had this scene in front of me.”
Yeri groans and rolls her shoulders as you touch them. “I can stop now, you know. I could go for the fucking right now.”
“I know, I know. But you’re not done yet. And I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying watching this.” You take your hand away and look Yeri in the eye via the mirror wall. “Hell, I might just have to convince you to do more.”
Without another word, Yeri gets underneath the bar again and picks it up. “If you’re so eager to see more, then…” She cuts herself off and dips into another squat.
Your eyes trace her from the floor up as you circle around. Yeri's thighs tremble from the weight. Her ass spreads from the movement. Her chest heaves from her breaths. Her lips part in just a way that you consider telling her to drop the bar so you can kiss her, but you're committed to watching her finish.
Rather than tempt yourself with the sight of her lips, you look up at her eyes. But you quickly regret it, as she looks back at yours. Her normally bright, mischievous eyes turn into black holes that you can't escape from. You feel a drop of your own sweat curl its way down your cheek.
“Holy shit, Yeri. I can’t wait to fuck you again, but at the same time, seeing this is too incredible to stop.”
Yeri is the one who breaks the gaze first, scrunching up her eyes. You look down again to see the trembling in her legs has gotten pretty bad.
"This is more weight than you usually use, huh?"
"Y-yup."
"How many left?"
"Three."
"Five."
"What the fu--"
You interrupt her with a kiss, since she's fully upright. The heat of the fire inside her drafts into your mouth. You don't want to stop, but you manage to pull away. "Just do five."
She looks up at you, her mouth gaped open. "Kay,"
As Yeri dips down, you walk around her again. Behind her, you put your hands out over her shoulders to spot her when she's back at your height. "Four more."
Yeri glances at you in the mirror, but quickly shuts her eyes again and goes down. You follow to make sure she's safe, but keep your hands off the bar.
Back at the top again, you continue the countdown. "Three."
Yeri doesn’t open her eyes this time. You just follow her down again, lightly resting your wrists against her shoulders to make sure she knows you're there. Her whole body is quivering as she rises again.
She gasps loudly when she's upright. "Keep breathing," you remind her, "Only two more."
"Shit," is the one word she gets out before she goes again. There's a moment when she reaches the bottom that she hesitates, and you fear she's going to drop the bar. You brace your arms, but Yeri clearly isn't one to disappoint. She rises again, shaking like a leaf.
You feel a little bad when she's all the way up again, as she is clearly already beyond what she's comfortable with. Even so, you're confident you can keep her from hurting herself, so you lean forward next to her ear and say very softly, "Just one more."
It seems she's got nothing more to say, because she immediately goes down for the last squat. You nearly lose your balance following her this time.
She squirms as she starts to lift herself up for the last time. The sweat practically pours off of her.
Her form must be a little off too, because the bar knocks against one of the middle rungs on the rack. She jerks back. A struggled croak comes out of her throat, and you can see her face screwed up in the mirror, with the tiniest bit of black eyeliner running down one side of her face. You're just about to grab the bar and push it up the rest of the way, but you barely have the time to make the move when she huffs and practically jumps up the rest of the way.
The bar lands on the rack safely, but Yeri's knees buckle and she starts to collapse forward. Thankfully with how close you are, you're able to catch her almost immediately, and avoid smacking your head on the bar too.
Her skin, even through her sweat, is practically hot enough to burn your hands. You help her lay down on her back and grab her water bottle, opening it and holding it ready.
Despite your concern, you're feeling extremely turned on. Her beautiful chest rises and falls rapidly. Her whole body absolutely shines. And on her face, closed eyes and a satisfied smile.
You put the water bottle to her lips and tilt so just a little trickles into her mouth. "Stay hydrated," you say simply. Yeri complies and gulps down the stream of water.
When you take away the half empty bottle, Yeri groans and uses her arm to roll herself onto her stomach. "Fuck me already."
That's a request you're happy to fulfill. You position yourself over her and spread her ass apart with your thumbs. Your dick is still covered in lube from earlier, and she's pretty slippery right now too…
A pleased hum from Yeri is the last encouragement you need, and you slide into her ass much more easily than you would have expected. Yeri's moan is muffled by the floor.
"So I keep going, eh?"
"Mmmfffmm."
You lift her pelvis up a bit so you can get a hand underneath and on her clit like before. You rub slowly, to match the slow thrusting into her ass. She doesn't move at all, but her moans keep coming. Much like earlier, her pussy is absolutely drenching your hand, so you assume you're doing something right.
Now that you're in full contact with her body, you can feel her heat again. It's hot enough to be uncomfortable, but considering what you just convinced her to do, you don't think your comfort is worth stopping for.
"How do you feel?" you ask.
Yeri lifts her head enough to respond coherently. "My legs fucking hurt."
You chuckle. "Yeah, sorry about that. You just looked so good doing that. Do you need some time to cool do--"
"Don't you dare get off of me."
"Woah! Noted. Nice."
Yeri rests her head on her arms. "The burn is worth it."
"Good to hear. I enjoyed it too."
"Oh? You didn't do much though. After this," she takes an extra deep breath. Whether it's because of something you did or her exhaustion you're not sure. "After this, you can do an actual workout you know. I think it's only fair if you take a turn, right?"
Ummm… is it fair?
Literally only even putting this in because this part was starting to get too long and I need to try to keep them short for my own sanity LOL *dies inside*. So the deadline for Part 6 will be Jan. 4th at 12:00 UTC. Options for Part 6: 1. (Picked:) Of course! You’ve been looking forward to your chance this whole time. You’ll happily get your lift on! Save you a trip to your gym! 2. Sure, if you have to. But maybe it’s something you can discuss when you’re not in the middle of this? 3. You don’t want to work out. That wasn’t exactly what you had planned when you came in, but you’re not going to say that now. 4. No way. You’re here to fuck Yeri. If you’re going to work out, you’ll do it on your own time!
~~~~~
In the time it takes you to pull almost all of the way out and slide all the way back in, you’ve made a decision. “Yeah, fuck it. Maybe you can give me a solid tip or two. I could probably use the exercise anyway.”
“I don’t know. Feels like you’re fine to me, but I’m happy to help if I can.”
“Aw, how flattering. And to think I considered saying no.”
Yeri fidgets a little bit. “That would have been okay. Either way, I don’t want you to stop what you’re doing now.”
“That’s good. Because I don’t want to.”
“But don’t forget. It’s okay if I don’t cum.”
“You know, that’s alright. I’m just going to make this as pleasurable for you as I can while I have you underneath me. Let’s not worry about the orgasm right now.”
Yeri holds her head up long enough to look at you in the mirror and say, “Oh my, you caught on. Thank you. But about the orgasm… I do like the idea of your cum in my ass.”
You’re not going to bother arguing against that. If that’s what she wants, you’re happy to provide.
You give Yeri’s ass a few more long, slow, languid thrusts. All the while, you keep a steady pace on her clit.
For as tired as she must be, Yeri doesn’t leave all of the work to you. She grinds her hips in tiny circles and clenches down on her pelvis. She must be doing some kind of exercise for that too, because you know for a fact both Eunha and Yerin have never been able to do that quite as effectively as Yeri is now (though you do feel a sense of deja vu and the name Seungyeon briefly pops into your head). You have to pause each time she does it, and you’re not sure if you’re annoyed by it or if it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced.
At the end of an extra long stroke, Yeri reaches behind herself and lays her wrist on the back of your neck, pulling you down so your mouth is next to her ear. You take it as a hint, so you nibble and kiss around the outer edge.
Yeri giggles in a low tone. Her fingers stretch their way into your hair and lightly scratch back and forth.
The sensual tone of the moment overtakes your sensibilities for just a second. Just long enough for you to back up and drive in with one powerful thrust. You hear Yeri’s breath catch in her mouth and you bite down where her shoulder meets her neck, just above and behind her collarbone.
It wasn’t your intention to bite especially hard, but you were a little caught up. Yeri’s caught breath turns into the very first bit of a scream before it catches once again. Her fingers spasm on the back of your head, and every other part of her body that’s in contact with yours tenses up.
You also don’t intend to stop. You don’t quite pound into her the same way, but you do move faster than you were moving before. You change your angle to be more vertical, and you manage to get a couple of fingers around Yeri’s clit.
“Oh god,” Yeri manages to say.
Her ass clenches down on your cock painfully hard. Her whole body freezes up, and the hand on your head feels like it’s stuck. You’re just able to keep thrusting. It seems that’s exactly what you needed to do, too.
Yeri screams out incoherently. You’re a little thankful that she’s facing away from you and into the floor, because you feel like you might have lost your eardrums otherwise. Even as it is, your ears hurt.
Her hand falls away and pats the floor. Her voice is much weaker now. “I came… I came,” she mutters.
You cock an eyebrow up. It wasn’t as hard to make that happen as you were led to believe, especially for anal sex. Fully hilted in, you grind your hips around. “That was easy.”
“Shut uuup,” her voice sounds hoarse. You look to the side to make sure the water didn’t get knocked over at any point, because you get the feeling she’ll need it. “It doesn’t usually happen… like that.”
“What do you think was different?”
“I don’t know… the clit stuff maybe?”
“You don’t get your clit played with often?”
“No, I… I said shut up! Can you… let me up?”
You hold back a laugh and do as she asks. Untangling yourself is slightly difficult with her dead weight on your arm, but you help out by pulling her over onto her back and handing her the water bottle.
Looking down at your hand now that it’s free, you see it’s completely soaked. You must not have noticed how wet she was getting with all of the heat and being distracted by the intense fucking. And right where she was just lying down, there’s practically a lake. You’re not sure where her sweat ends and where her sexual fluid begins (but you have a pretty good idea).
Yeri drags herself up into a sitting position against the squatting rack and finishes off the rest of the water. “Well now my legs and my ass are going to be sore for days. Good thing I’m only MCing stuff I can sit down for.”
“Are you going to be okay with that? After that scream, your voice is a little bit…”
“Yeah, I’ll just tell them I’ve got a little cold. They’ll buy anything.”
The two of you smirk at each other.
“God damn though, that was good. Is it weird to say thanks for that?”
You chuckle. “Nah. And you’re welcome. Will you need more water?”
“I’m dehydrated as fuck now, so yes. But there’s a vending machine right down the hall. But this was enough to hold me over for a minute. What are you looking to do?”
Yeri gestures around the room. There’s quite a bit of equipment you could try out.
This will be another short vote period! Voting will close on 1/6 at 12:00 UTC. Options for Part 7: 1. The bench is free. That’s pretty basic stuff, and probably where you’re most confident in showing off. 2. She’s got a leg press machine so you can destroy your legs like Yeri just did. Actually that would have been very convenient earlier… 3. (Picked:) Try your hand (and the rest of your body) at pilates! You don’t know what to do, but you’re sure to get a laugh! 4. You lied! You’re out of here! HA!
~~~~~
You point up at the pilates setup and Yeri laughs.
"Yeah! This will be great! You're totally the graceful type."
You're not sure if that's sarcasm you detect in her voice, but you shrug it off. Her laugh is what you wanted to hear and you're already successful in that.
"Oh of course," you say with a very false confidence, "You know they call me the pilates master? Because they do."
You step over and lift yourself onto the device. You grab a hold of it the same way Yeri did before. At least, you’re close. You're not exactly sure.
Very carefully, you step your way up the bars and find yourself horizontal. Then you go further and completely lose your sense of direction, though you think you might be upside down. The blood rushes to your ears but you still hear the sound of Yeri giggling across the room.
“You weren’t kidding. That’s a super advanced move.”
“Yup. I invented it,” you say, pretending to be sure of yourself despite the disorientation, “I call this move the Reverse Crab with Lion Splash. It’s really good for your kneecaps.”
Looking up, or down, or sideways, one of those directions, you see an upside down Yeri covering her mouth to attempt to hold in her snickering.
You complete your sort-of backflip, so that you’re facing the padded table below you, your knees caught on the middle bar. You can feel your hamstrings, back, and shoulders straining to keep from falling right then and there.
Yeri’s barely contained laughter bursts out. You didn’t think it was that funny, but she’s an odd person, so you’re not surprised. Until, that is, she says, “You’re just freeballing up there with those gymnastics huh?”
It hits you that the sight of your lubed up and mostly softened dick flopping around as you awkwardly twist your way around the bars probably is fairly humorous. And a bit embarrassing to match. You suddenly feel a little bit self-conscious. And yet, you manage one last retort, “Uh yeah. Haven’t you heard of penilates?”
Yeri snorts and pats the floor. “You’re funny, you know that? I like it. Get back down here and I’ll show you how to do some basics if you really want to do pilates.”
Well, as long as she claims you’re funny.
You maneuver yourself out of the bars and drop off the rack. “Alright coach! What do I do?”
“First, come over here and lay down on your stomach. Put your hands to the sides like you’re going to do a pushup, but like, right under your shoulders.”
The lightly padded floor makes the action relatively comfortable. Yeri rolls on her hips so that she’s able to put a hand on the small of your back. A strangely comfortable chill runs up your spine at the feeling.
“Now push yourself up with your arms, but make sure your legs stay attached to the floor.”
You easily follow her instructions.
“Good!” she says cheerfully. She lifts your chin up, putting more of a stretching sensation on your chest. “Make sure you’re looking straight forward. This is called a Swan. It’s not a big deal, but it helps you with stretching out your core.”
“Yeah, I feel that for sure. I was expecting something a little more intense.”
“Most people are. Pilates is pretty easy though. Mostly.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the hard stuff?”
“Calm it down! We’ll get there. Probably not today though.”
“Aw, why not?”
“Because I’d like to do this with you and I can barely feel my legs.”
“Wow, I’m that good of a fuck?”
Yeri runs her hand over your butt. “Yup. It was all you and your sexual prowess and had nothing to do with anything else that happened since we got here.”
The two of you share a chuckle.
“So how long do I hold this?”
“About now would be good. For you, I’d say… do that for about thirty seconds at a time. And three times of course.”
“What if I normally only do two sets?” you ask as you lay yourself back on the floor.
She lightly smacks your ass. “Hey! What did we agree on about not calling me a liar!”
“Oh, sorry. I would never call you out for lying.”
“That’s… pretty much right. Now, up up!”
Once in your second Swan, you have a thought. “Hey, old reference at this point, but I’ve got a question about what you were talking about in The Lounge.”
“Shoot.”
“I asked why the three of you don’t just have sex with each other, and Seulgi said it was about wanting different things and being uncomfortable with it. So uh, have you tried to bite them before?”
“Oh god. Yeah, I tried that once or twice. Real good reactions out of all four of them.”
“Four?”
“Yup. Well, five. All five of us have tried having sex with each other. Still do sometimes, if we’re feeling desperate.”
“But you’re not into it?”
“Basically. Seulgi is in mad love with Wendy but she’s scared to admit it. Wendy is obsessed with Joy, but Joy is trying to convince herself that she’s straight. Irene and Wendy are both only interested in soft, nice sex, but they both want to be penetrated and can’t seem to get their act together with a double ended dildo. Seulgi wants to be a domme, but ever since Wendy was nearly murdered, she has to go easy on her hips. I’m totally into being dommed, but Seulgi is a wimp and when I talk back to her she gets all nervous and shit.”
You assume thirty seconds have passed, so you lower yourself to the floor again. You knew you would get some kind of explanation when you asked, but you weren’t expecting so much information. You think you may have already forgotten some of it.
Yeri keeps rambling, “Irene used to fuck Seulgi all the time, but during their sub unit promotions they got really busy with each other and I think they just kind of lost the mood, you know? Plus, now that Seulgi wants to explore her rougher side, Irene’s just not into it. Joy used to be the perfect fuck buddy for everybody because she was so good at accommodating everyone and enjoying it. Oh actually, she even did the pet play thing with me once! No clue what we were thinking though. I tried to be a puppy, but then I made a joke about Haetnim and that totally shut the whole thing down. And I’m pretty sure that it isn’t a healthy thing for Wendy, because of how hard she’s crushing for a quote unquote straight girl. But yeah, that’s the point with Joy. She’s claiming that she’s totally straight and started dating Cheungae, but I don’t know how long that’s going to-- Oh no, stay on your stomach.”
You had started to roll over after finishing your third Swan, but Yeri holds you back by your shoulder. “Next I’ll have you do a T.”
“A T? Like the letter T?”
“Exactly.”
“Is it like this?” You stick your arms straight out to either side and point your feet straight down, keeping your face on the floor.
Yeri laughs. “Basically, yes, but now pick your head, chest, arms, and legs up as far as you can, looking forward. Hold that for five seconds, five times.”
This move in particular is actually a bit harder, as it sounds like the only part of you meant to stay on the floor is your stomach.
“Sorry by the way. I rant on like a gossipy bitch sometimes. Was that too much information?”
The voting deadline for Part 8 will be 1/13 at 12:00 UTC! Options for Part 8 [IMPORTANT]: 1. “Well, it was maybe a bit much.” You can’t blame her for oversharing, but it’s no big deal. She seemed extremely eager to bring all that up, after all. 2. (Picked:) “Nope! In fact, tell me more!” Should you know all of this? No. Do you want to know more? Absolutely yes. 3. “Yeah, you really shouldn’t say so much.” It was pretty rude of her to say all of that stuff about her members’ personal relationships. Your question was much simpler than that.
~~~~~
"Nope! In fact, tell me more!"
Yeri chuckles. "Just as long as you don't spill any of what I tell you, alright? We could both get in some real trouble."
That's how secrets always work, right? You can keep the secrets and the non-secrets separate and never tell anyone anything that would be a problem, right? Yeah, no problem.
Right?
"Well, I don't think Joy's relationship is going to last much longer. She is trying really hard, but the strain is going to get to her. And one of our members is absolutely going to fuck her soon and restore the balance."
You snort, forcing you to put your hands and legs down. "Restore the balance? What is this, an epic fantasy novel?"
"You know what I mean! She's the perfect fucker or fuck toy for every member, and in the past, she's loved that. She told us so herself. But we've been together for years, so we know when she's not alright. About a month after she started dating Cheungae, she said she couldn't have sex anymore. And it's just been downhill from there. They're fucking each other, but she has said more than once that she misses fucking other people too."
"The things people do for the sake of relationships."
"Yeah, it's cute, but…" Yeri grips your ass cheek as you come out of your last T. "You know how freeing it is to not be in one."
You sigh, thinking for a second about something SinB told you. "Yup… but hey, has Joy talked to this guy about an open relationship? Or like some other kind of arrangement? Just taking a wild guess here, but I'd imagine any guy would die for a threesome with Joy and you."
"I offered. I heard from Wheein that Cheungae's got a dick the size of the DMZ, so I'm all for giving that a spin. Joy rejected the idea though."
"Damn, why?"
"Well Cheungae isn't the problem. Joy is. I don't know if it's selfishness or if she is just trying way too hard to make a normal relationship work, but she doesn't want to share, herself or her man."
"That sucks. I'm sorry."
"Ah, it's okay. Like I said, I don't think it'll last much longer. And as far as I'm concerned, I've got myself a solid replacement!"
"I'm not a commodity!"
"Sure, ho, sure." Yeri giggles and slaps your butt.
You reach between her legs and push a couple of fingers into her pussy. "Sounds like you're trying to get me mad."
"Why would I do that? You… degenerate sack of shit who can't even fuck the right hole?"
Suddenly, you hear the sound of Yeri's phone going off. It's Wendy's voice. "Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!"
Yeri scowls. "Hurry up and pound my twat into the core of the planet."
You hold in a laugh and push Yeri onto her back and climb on top of her. Your sweat mixes with hers as you press your bodies together. She’s not burning hot like before, but she’s still pretty warm, and there’s certainly fire in her eyes as she pulls you to her lips--
“Are you ready for this? Zimzalabim!”
Yeri’s tongue invades your mouth forcefully. Your practiced cock finds its way into her with no trouble at all. There’s no hesitation from either one of you. She pulls you into her, and you--
“Are you ready for this? Zimzala-- Yeri! I’m calling you on the important line! Why aren’t you picking up?”
That doesn’t sound like a ringtone anymore. You pull away from Yeri’s kiss, but she suddenly sticks a finger against your cheek. “Don’t you dare stop. I don’t want to feel my legs.”
“Didn’t that already happen?” you ask, with no small amount of snark.
“Yeri? Are you still? Oh god. I’m sorry--” Static crackles through the speaker for a moment. “This must be really awkward for you.”
“Oh don’t mind me,” you say, “I’m just doing my job, apparently.” You back up just a bit and start thrusting hard and fast. Yeri’s breath gets pushed out of her with the force of the first one, but she quickly adjusts and matches your rhythm.
There’s a pause from Wendy. “O-okay. That’s good. I mean, wait! No! Yeri! Irene is on her way to pick you up to take you to the studio!”
“God- dammit- Wendy-” Yeri is having difficulty speaking, only managing to get a word or so out for each time you slam into her. “He’s so- fucking- good- Tell- her- to- wait!”
You could swear that you can hear Wendy blushing through the phone. “We can’t! You’ve got to record…”
“He doesn’t- care- about- spoilers!”
“I mean, I kind of do… How did the call start if we’re over here?”
“I had to install an app on her phone to automatically answer the call-- I mean, you’ve got to hurry and pack up! Irene is going to be there any second!”
Yeri whines in staccato, and is about to say something but is interrupted. And you’re suddenly forced to stop fucking her by a voice that chills your spine like being lost in a blizzard.
“Wendy’s right, Yeri. We’ve got to go.”
Looking to the side, you and Yeri both see Irene standing in the wide-open doorway. The lack of expression on her face is unnerving in a way you can’t accurately describe.
“Come on Irene, please! We can just record later! Just give us five more minutes!”
You feel like you could comment on the fact that Yeri sounds like she’s complaining to her mother to stay in bed, but Irene lifts her eyebrows a few millimeters and your motivation to make a joke is suddenly gone.
“Uuugh!” Yeri reluctantly, slowly, pushes you to the side.
Well, seems like that’s over with. But maybe you can convince Irene to let it not be over with… Or not. Hard to say.
The voting deadline for Part 9 will be 1/17 at 12:00 UTC! Options for Part 9: 1. Irene doesn’t scare you! Tell her you’re not done with Yeri yet! SM can wait for her! 2. Okay, Irene scares you. You should apologize and see yourself out of here. 3. (Picked:) Eh. No big deal. Yeri said that Irene is basically just the same as the other RV members.
~~~~~
You lean back against one of the vertical bars of the squat rack. The metal is very cold, making you flinch. But you play it cooler than the metal, propping your chin up on your wrist by putting your elbow on your knee.
“Hey Irene,” you say casually, as if you weren’t naked in front of one of the most powerful idols in the business, “How’s your morning so far?”
“It’s fine.” Irene is just as casual as you are. She seems more interested in watching as Yeri crawls around the gym on her arms, gathering clothes.
“So you have a new comeback soon, huh?”
Her eyes seem unfocused for a moment, as if she’d just spaced out.
“Oh. Yes,” she eventually says.
Irene’s not especially talkative, you surmise.
“Well, if the recording isn’t too urgent, you can hang out with us for a bit longer. I bet Yeri would be willing to share, assuming you were also wanting in on this situation.”
“Oooh, hey yeah. You want some Irene?” Yeri asks. A cheesy grin spreads across her face. “I got him all warmed up for you.”
Irene gestures softly at Yeri’s bra in the middle of the floor. Yeri rolls her eyes and reaches out for it.
“I appreciate the thought.”
You shrug and move to grab your own clothes. Putting them on feels gross considering the sweat and cum all over you. You resolve to take a shower as soon as you get home. “It was worth a shot.”
Yeri gets her sports bra back on and lets out a long sigh. “You sure though? My voice is a little fucked up right now. We could say I’m sick and that you’re just taking care of me like a good leader.”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
A woman of few words, this one.
With your legs fully functional, you’re able to finish dressing much quicker than Yeri, and approach Irene, giving her a standard bow. “Good to meet you, by the way. Sounds like you’ve already heard about me.”
“From Joy, yes.” Irene bows back to you. “Is it okay if I get your contact from Wendy?”
You blink in shock. That was easy enough. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good to me.”
Irene nods, expression still inscrutable. “Do you prefer calls or texts?”
“Either works for me.”
Yeri pops in. “He’s not actually a prostitute you know.”
For the first time, Irene makes a face you can decipher. It seems to be a bit of minor, subtle shock. “Oh, so this…” She points back and forth between you and Yeri. “Was for…”
You finish for her after she pauses. “The hell of it, yeah.”
“I paid you in salmon bagels,” Yeri says.
“Well that and a free pilates lesson, sure.”
The tiniest smile curls up the corners of Irene’s lips. “How fun.”
It gets silent again, besides the sounds of Yeri huffing as she works to get her pants back on.  You nod quietly, unsure of how to respond.
Thankfully, Irene looks you in the eye and motions for you to come closer, which you do. While Yeri is occupied with pulling her hoodie back over her head, Irene leans in close to you and whispers into your ear, so quietly it takes you a moment to process what she’s saying.
“I heard you earlier. Stay away from Joy.”
You back off again, a little struck by what sounded like a very calm threat.
“I’m parked downstairs Yeri. No more than five minutes, okay?”
“Oh come on, you tell me that now?!”
Without another word, Irene turns and walks back out the door. You’re still a little stunned, watching the back of her head, when she looks back over her shoulder and gives you a coy smile and a wink. Your head swims with questions.
You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at the now-closed door, but you’re snapped out of it by a loud smack on the back of your jeans, just below your ass. Yeri’s next to you, keeping herself upright with her hand on the wall. “A little help here?”
You look down and see her legs are shaking like leaves. “Oh shit, yeah, I’ve got you.”
Scooping your arm under hers, you support as much of her weight as you can on your shoulder. It feels like she’s mostly able to stay on her feet on her own, but she definitely wobbles a bit.
“You going to be okay?” you ask once you’re in the hallway.
“Oh totally! I’ll be able to walk... mostly normally once we’ve reached the studio. But you know how it is. Squat until your legs give out and then immediately get ass-fucked to an unexpected orgasm, and that’ll give you a few minutes worth of trouble.”
“That’s not actually a sensation I’m familiar with.”
“Who knows? Maybe Seulgi will get her domme act together and then you will be!”
You’re not so sure how you feel about that.
“Hey by the way. Irene was asking about getting your number, right? Can I get it now? Faster than getting it from Wendy since she’ll probably be out all day.”
This will be the last vote for Yexercise! *Wipes away tears* The deadline for this vote will be 1/23 at 12:00 UTC, at which point we’ll be talking on the Discord server about what’s next! Options for Part 10: 1. (Picked:) Of course she can have your number right away! You had fun, she had fun, you should have more fun! 2. Don’t let this crazy have your contact info. In fact, you should let Wendy know to give her a fake number…
~~~~~
You don’t even need to say anything. You pull out your phone, open your contacts, and hand it to Yeri. She puts her info in and sends herself some random gibberish in a text.
“Awesome!” she says, slipping the phone back into your pocket expertly as you make your way down the hall together, “No requests for sleazy pictures though. Can’t have anything getting out if something happens to your phone. Or mine.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t dream-- well, I would dream of it. But I won’t ask.”
Yeri giggles. “Ah, hey. The water’s right there. Wanna stop for just a second?”
At the machine, Yeri swipes her key card just like she did at the door to the gym. It only contains what you recognize as the cheap water brands, unsweetened tea, some dried fruit snacks in plain packaging, and a variety of protein bars. There’s no indicator for payment anywhere though.
“Perks of the personal, private gym?” you ask.
“Perks of the personal, private gym,” Yeri says.
A couple of water bottles are pushed out at arm’s height. Yeri hands one to you, takes the other for herself, and you both gulp down about half before continuing.
“I’ve got to say, I was expecting this to be one of those expensive waters. Blessed by monks, imported from Egypt, shit like that.”
Yeri smirks. “You know what they say. SM water tastes like water. No reason to spend wastefully.”
She finishes her water off, and you get to the stairwell. You think that three flights of stairs might be a little difficult at the moment, but fortunately there’s an elevator nearby you hadn’t noticed when you were following Yeri up earlier.
As you’re gradually taken to the ground floor, Yeri nudges your side. “If I ever share something juicy with you by the way, I expect at least five words in response. None of that ‘LOL’ followed by silence stuff.”
You laugh. “What if I can’t think of anything to say?”
“You can just bullshit an answer. No biggie.”
“What if my life is threatened because I know your gossip?”
“Your life, huh?”
“Well, not specifically. I just assume Irene will break every bone in my body. I guess I can live through that, right?”
“God, she better not be doing that again.”
You stare at Yeri. “Doing that again?”
“Making people uneasy. Point is, don’t worry about her. She’s just got a… uh, an unusual way of communicating, we’ll say.”
“Something like that, sure.”
Yeri puts her free hand on your chest. “She’ll warm up to you, I promise. I’ll put in a good word for you! As long as you do me one more favor.”
Anything to get a good word in to Irene so you don’t end up murdered. “What’s that?”
“Just give me one more, real good kiss in front of her. Right up next to the car window!”
You wrap your arms around her waist and shift Yeri so she’s in front of you. “Like this?” you ask, and half-lift her to your height. The moment your lips touch, you feel the elevator jerk to a stop and the door opens.
“Maybe a bit more than that, but I like where your head’s at.”
“It could be between your legs,” you say, mimicking Yeri’s seductive tone from earlier at The Lounge.
“Don’t tempt me like that!”
All smiles, you help Yeri feebly get outside. You spot a car with dark windows, where you can barely see Irene’s silhouette inside. It also happens to be the only car on the street, and Yeri easily confirms that it’s the correct one.
Yeri is thankfully able to stand on her own once you get to the passenger side. You open the door for her, but before she gets in, you spin her to face you and dive in for a real kiss. She moans and her arms wrap up under your shirt instantly, so you respond by sliding one hand down the back of her yoga pants. It should be right where Irene can see your fingers outlined through the fabric.
Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a reaction from Irene. You wonder what it will take to crack her neutral act.
“Mmm, even more than that next time, okay?” Yeri pulls away from you and turns to get into the car.
“Of course. I might charge you one extra water bottle next time though.”
“Uh-oh. I’ll be sure to save up for it.”
You laugh together before she sits down. You lean over to pop your head in after her. “See you next time then. And good to finally meet you Irene!”
Irene looks up at you from the book she was reading. “Hm? Oh yes, a pleasure.”
Yeri catches your gaze again. You can see the moment of sudden, unbridled thrill in her eyes, so you wait for her to say…“No Irene! The pleasure was mine!”
Her hand shoots up, and you meet it for an excellent, but questionably deserved high-five. Irene sighs heavily.
You laugh and back up again. “Nice one, Yeri. See you later.”
“See ya, ho!” Yeri shouts before closing the door. As is the case with Yerin, you’re pretty sure you’re stuck with nicknames like that from now on.
You wave the car goodbye and turn back around to make your way back home. You could use a shower.
THE END
~~~~~
Post-story notes:
Hey everybody! Thank you again for joining me for one of these crazy vote stories. I’ve really appreciated the participation, and I think we’ll be getting even more next time!
We’ll be discussing the subject and characters for the next story on the Discord. Suggestions so far include (forgive me if the capitalization is incorrect on these)… Dreamcatcher, WJSN, Mamamoo, Momoland, CLC, Oh My Girl, Lovelyz, more Gfriend, and Fromis_9! But nothing’s set in stone yet! Fill out the form in #announcements if you have even more suggestions to add to the hat.
As for when the next story starts, I’m going to say probably the first week of February. As you may have seen me mention, I’ll be writing some shorts just to spill some of my creative juices. On top of that, I quit my day job! Because I’m starting school! So exciting and nerve wracking! Given how stupidly stressful my day job was, I’m hoping I should be able to pump out stories a little more frequently moving forward.
The storyline unlocks from Yexercise are going to look pretty obvious: [Yeri - Workout buddy] [Yeri - Gossip girl]
And just like with Movie Night, here are some fun facts about unpicked options! At least one of you read these last time, and made a very astute observation about Sowon, so you’ll be getting your wish for that fairly soon.
Part 1. Picking Wendy or Seulgi would have (obviously) resulted in a different name for the story altogether! The names I had in mind weren’t finalized, but the top contenders were “Snow Day” for Wendy and “Dom-Flavored Pringles” for Seulgi.
Part 3. Yeri had two animals in mind for the pet-play: She could have been a cat or a cow. The option to be a puppy would have also been there, but she would have been skeptical about it given her history trying that with Joy.
Part 4. At first, I wasn’t planning on there being any anal in Part 6, but because the vote for Part 4 was SO close, I went back and changed my plans, just so y’all could get what you wanted. :P
Part 5. Again, just mentioning how close the vote was. I was very interested to see that for most of the voting period, the options to keep Yeri working out and to stop and just talk to her were neck and neck. I’m still feeling out what the best balance is between fluff and smut, and you guys are surprisingly wholesome!
Part 7. If you had chosen the leg workout, you’d have been too exhausted to help Yeri out of the gym, resulting in Irene rescheduling the recording session. She’d have stayed to hang out, and that would have blocked off the [Yeri - Gossip girl] storyline (which does have some smaller impact on the relationship with Irene moving forward as well, btw).
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sunlight-moonrise · 4 years
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Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)
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Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much. 
A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog​ and @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt​ for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins​.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness. 
Category: Smut
Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie
Word Count: 6.4K
Masterlist
Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.
“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.
My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name. 
“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.
“No worries! What can I get started for you?”
As a Criminology major,  I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit. 
Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top. 
Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.  
I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.  
Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.
“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.
“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.
“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag. 
“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”
“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.
“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.
“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”
“How can you be so sure?” 
“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him. 
“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”
“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”
●●●
After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.
Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.
I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears. 
“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”
I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. 
It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.
“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”
I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.
My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.
“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.
“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”
“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”
“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door. 
I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.
“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed. 
“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face. 
He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.
“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us. 
I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.
“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets. 
“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue. 
“Goodbye, Y/N.”
“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony. 
I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead. 
●●●
In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.
I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark. 
“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.
“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”
“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.
There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.
“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”
He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”
“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.
“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.
“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.
“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.
“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?” 
This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.
“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”
“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.
“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.
“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”
“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus. 
“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.
“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.
“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”
“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”
“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”
Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”
“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.
“I should get going.”
“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door. 
That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?
I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work. 
●●●
I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.
I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly. 
I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do? 
I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.
Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped. 
“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”
The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.
How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D? 
“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.
I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.
Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel. 
“Professor, I need to speak with you.”
“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.
“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.
“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.
“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.
I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist. 
●●●
I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions. 
“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.
“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.
“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.  
“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.  
“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.
A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.
“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“
“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.
“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.
“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.
“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”
“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me. 
“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.
“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.
We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.
Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man. 
I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.
Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.
He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.
“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.
I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.
“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.
“Open, and do it right this time.”
I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.
“You’re using only your mouth.” 
Fine, have it your way, Sir. 
I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.
“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.
I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.
“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.
Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.  The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.
He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.
“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.
I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.
“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.
“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”
He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.
“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.
“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.
“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.
“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”
Gee, thanks.
“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion. 
“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.
Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.
Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.
He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.
He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.  
“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.
“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat. 
“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point. 
“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.
“Try again, who’s fucking you?” 
“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.
“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”
“Professor Reid!” I cried out.
“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.
He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy. 
I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner. 
“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added. 
He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”
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heyyyharry · 3 years
Text
Deep End - Chapter 4: Royal Ball
…in which Ezi causes trouble at the Styles' manor.
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Word count: 6.1k
AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.
WARNING: MATURE THEMES, ASSAULT.
All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist
Wattpad link
A/N: Please let me know what you think. I need feedback to feel motivated. Also, what do you expect to happen in the next chapter?
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When Harry came to the guest room this morning and couldn’t find Ezi, he had hoped that something had happened overnight, and she’d magically returned to where she’d come from, and he, at last, could have his old life back. But no. He was immensely disappointed to find her sitting cross-legged on the edge of his pool, just staring blankly at the water like she was in a sad music video. What did he expect? It wasn’t like she could grow some wings to fly all the way home.
“Good morning!”
Ezi flinched at the sound of his voice. She pulled her feet out of the water and frantically stood up as Harry approached.
He held out his hand to ask her to stay. “It’s okay. You can use the pool. I rarely go swimming anyway.”
Ezi’s brows furrowed slightly as she tucked a strand behind her ear and stared anxiously at the blue water. “How can you swim in this pond? It smells funny.”
“It’s not a pond. It’s a swimming pool. There’s chemicals in it; that’s why it smells like that.”
Ezi cocked her head, seemingly confused. “Why you gotta make your own pond and put chemicals in it? Why do humans have to make their own versions of everything that’s already available in nature?”
“It’s cleaner and safer to swim in pools,” Harry pointed out.
Ezi couldn’t look more offended by his remark. “The ocean was clean before you trashed it with your chemicals.”
“I didn’t trash the ocean,” Harry corrected, pointing to his chest. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not responsible for environmental pollution?”
Ezi folded her arms and glared at him. “Why are you afraid of the ocean?”
“You’re literally a killing machine.”
“You people make machines that shoot fire and blow up each other’s ships, and yet we’re the killing machines.”
“Well, the ocean is scary anyway. It’s deep and dark.”
“It’s literally water,” argued Ezi. “Water is the driving force of all nature, and you’re afraid of it.”
“Forget it.” Harry exhaled as he tossed his hands in the air. “I can never win an argument with you.”
“Good,” Ezi said with a slight shrug.
“Anyway.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Come inside for breakfast. I have something to discuss with you while you eat.”
“Your maid brought you something this morning,” Ezi said when Harry was about to walk away.
Slowly, he turned back to face her with his eyebrows raised. “Who?”
“Your maid,” she said with a straight face. “The girl with green hair. I think she brought you some clothes and put them in the room next to mine.”
“That’s Amy, my assistant!” cried Harry as he gripped his own hair. “You two didn’t have a conversation, right? Please tell me you didn’t call her a maid to her face!”
Ezi looked rather amused when she saw how distressed Harry was. How could she be smiling? He wouldn’t be the only one who’d be in trouble if her identity was revealed. Fuck that. What if the government found out that he was keeping her here and locked him up, too? Was it a crime to keep a mythical creature in your house? Could he be executed for that?
“No,” Ezi calmly said while Harry could feel the blood draining from his face. “She just brought you some clothes and left. Though I could barely see her face, she didn’t seem very friendly.”
Harry pressed a palm to his chest, feeling his heart thundering as he let out a sigh of half-formed relief. Once he’d regained his composure, he told Ezi, “Amy is friendly to everyone. Maybe it’s just you.”
Ezi didn’t look at all bothered by that. She shrugged. “I’m not here to make friends. I don’t care if Amy likes me.”
Harry found it funny that one moment she could look and talk like a human girl with human feelings, and the next she acted as cold as the ocean she’d come from. But she was right. They weren’t friends, and there was no reason for them to be more than just civilised to one another.
“You sure you didn’t talk to Amy?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Good,” Harry nodded. “Come inside. The food’s getting cold.”
It seemed like Ezi got hungry very quickly. She finished the hard scrambled eggs Harry had made for her and even asked him for more. Harry didn’t mind feeding her. It was better to keep her full. After all, she had shown him her predator side, and he’d prefer to never see it again.
“So what’s something you want to tell me?” she asked with her mouth full while stuffing it more with another big bite.
Chilli was sitting at Ezi’s feet, staring up at her as a way of asking for a taste, but Ezi just ignored the cat and continued to enjoy her breakfast.
Harry knitted his hands on the table and straightened his back as he began, “Well, I actually wanted to ask you for a favour.”
Ezi stopped chewing immediately. She swallowed hard, her face contorted. “I’m not doing you a favour.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“But I already know that I don’t want to do it.”
“Of course you want to do it.”
“No, I don’t!”
Harry sucked in a breath and held up a finger to stop her from interrupting him again. “I promise you’ll like this. Just hear me out.”
Ezi folded her arms in front of her chest and pouted like an angry little girl as she sank into her chair.
Harry’s lips curled into a smile. “You like those Disney movies, right?”
Ezi nodded, and Harry watched in content as the line between her brows eased.
“Good. So what if I tell you that you can be a Disney princess for one night.”
“What do you mean?” Ezi frowned again as she sat up straight. “Are you messing with me?”
Harry shook his head. “No, I’m being dead serious. I’ll take you to a ball.”
“A ball?”
“Yeah. I’m invited to a royal ball that’s held in a real ballroom, like the one in Beauty and the Beast.”
He would’ve said Cinderella, but she hadn’t watched it yet. It would’ve been a better reference. Still, Ezi’s eyes lit up when she heard about the ball. “Like...in a castle?”
“Y-Yeah.” Harry worked up a bright smile as he nodded fast. “A castle.” To be fair, his mother’s manor was as huge as a castle. It was twice the size of his house, so that’d be more than enough to convince the naive siren.
“Do I get to wear a pretty dress?”
“Yeah. Who do you think the clothes Amy brought here are for?”
The realisation washed over Ezi’s face, and her mouth fell open in shock as she slammed her hands on the table, rattling the silverware and startling Chilli. “You’re not messing with me?”
“No.”
She bit her lip and arched an eyebrow. “What’s the favour then?”
“That’s the favour -- You going to the ball with me,” Harry said. “It’s tomorrow night.”
“What’s in it for you?”
“Nothing, to be honest,” Harry said with a weak shrug. “Maybe getting back in my mother’s good graces. She’s hosting the ball, and so many people are invited.”
“Is she the Queen?”
“No, but she thinks she is.”
“So she’s like my sister Koa.”
Harry chuckled at how serious Ezi looked when she said that. “Well, maybe not as bad as your sister. My mother loves me.”
Ezi pursed her lips as she focused on fidgeting with the fork in her hand. Harry leaned forward on the table. “So?” he asked. “Can you help me?”
Ezi blew out her cheeks as she locked eyes with him again. “Fine,” she said. “Not because I want to help you, though. I just want to go to a ball.”
“Good enough for me.” Harry smiled.
While Ezi continued eating, Harry gave her a few rules that she would have to follow when they arrived at his family’s event. He could not risk having her interact with anyone without his supervision. He’d nearly had a heart attack when he heard that she’d met his assistant when he wasn’t there. He was sure that Amy had only assumed Ezi was another girl Harry regularly hooked up with. Money didn’t really matter to him, so he usually spoiled his friends and the girls he fucked. However, he couldn’t risk having anyone find out that Ezi was actually living here.
When Ezi finished eating, Harry went upstairs to get the bath ready. He’d have to figure out a way to give Ezi a bath without having to touch her. How would she feel about hot water, though? His cat Chilli always left at least one or two scratches on his legs and his shirt whenever he tried to give her a bath. He could imagine Ezi doing the same.
“Hey.”
Harry whipped his head to the bathroom door and found Ezi standing there in his joggers and Mickey Mouse t-shirt that flowed down to her thighs. He must admit that she looked cute when she wasn’t frowning or roasting him. If only she’d lost her voice like Ariel did in the movie.
“Stop staring at me, human!”
Exactly his point.
Sighing, Harry got up from the edge of the bathtub. “We’ll let the water run,” he told her. “In the meantime, I’ll show you your new clothes.”
Ezi said nothing and followed him down the hall to his walk-in closet. It was actually a room with big windows, a shiny tiled floor, and white-cushioned sofas. Harry took a deep breath of the comforting perfumed air only to see Ezi covering her mouth and nose with her palm.
“It smells weird in here,” she complained.
“Just like living with my mum,” Harry whispered to himself. To her, he said, “Speaking of smells.”
Ezi looked horrified as Harry leaned in and started sniffing her.
“Why don’t you smell?” he asked, stepping back.
Her eyes went wide. “Am I supposed to?”
“Well, yeah.” He nodded. “You literally came from the ocean. No offence but...you’re supposed to smell fishy.”
“Do humans say no offence before they offend you?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Or maybe I’m just blunt because I’m British. Anyway,” Harry sucked in a breath, “it’s weird that you don’t smell. You don’t have a smell at all. When you first came on land, I could still smell a bit of the ocean on you, but now you don’t smell, and you haven’t showered.”
Ezi shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not like I could ask my mother why her curse didn’t give me a smell.”
“True.” Harry sighed. “Anyway. That’s good. Don’t want no fishy-smelling girl walking around my house.”
“I will scoop out your eyeballs right now.”
“Just kidding.” Harry chuckled. “But please don’t do that.”
“I’ll try.” Ezi put her hands on her hips and swept her eyes around the room. “Why do you have so many clothes?”
“They make me look good. I’m a public figure, so I care about my appearance.”
“Maybe you should focus on fixing what’s inside you and not your appearance.”
“I like you better when you don’t talk,” Harry said, then brushed past her to grab the Chanel shopping bag Amy had left on the white marble counter. He pulled out a sparkling silver slip dress and held it up to show Ezi. “This is for you. It comes with a pair of high heels. I’ll definitely have to teach you to walk in them, but baby steps.”
Ezi took the dress with both hands and was being as careful as possible as if she was afraid she might rip it. Although she didn’t let it show, he could make out the excitement in the way her eyes twinkled. He’d made sure to ask for a dress that looked similar to the one Ariel had worn in The Little Mermaid when she’d come from the ocean.
“Before you try this on,” he said when Ezi lifted her bright blue eyes up to him. “Repeat what I told you earlier.”
Ezi clutched the dress to her chest and glanced up at the ceiling. A line appeared between her brows as she recited Harry’s words, “Do not talk to anyone there unless you ask me to. Never leave your side. If I have questions, ask you in private. Um...what else? Oh! Avoid your mother at all costs.”
Harry nodded. “My mother and Dawson.”
“Who’s Dawson?”
“You’ll know.” With a sigh, Harry thrust his hands into his pockets. “Now, I’ll leave you here to change. I could only guess your measurements, so if it doesn’t fit, we can have it fixed as soon as possible.”
“Measurements?” Ezi looked down at her body, confused.
Harry cleared his throat and waved his hand at her. “Just hurry up and change. Let me know when you’re done.”
“Wait!”
“What?”
With a cute little pout, she asked, “Can you put it on me?”
Harry was shocked for a second when he heard that, but then he remembered that Ezi had never worn a dress before, let alone one with so many...strings.
“Here.” He took the dress from her and tried his best to demonstrate. “So this is the front. This is the back. This string goes over your right shoulder–No, wait, your left. Wait, is it? Hold on. Fuck.”
Ezi breathed out a laugh and covered her mouth with her hands, making Harry glare at her. “Fine,” he huffed. “I’ll help you put it on.”
“Good.”
Before Harry could even say a word, Ezi pulled his oversized t-shirt that she was wearing over her head, and Harry let out the most inhuman scream as he looked away and covered his eyes. She was naked underneath his shirt. Completely naked.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted into his palm when he heard the sound of the shirt falling to the floor.
“What is it?” Ezi asked.
“Oh, God.” Harry shrugged her hand away as she tried to take his.
“Why are you being weird?” She giggled as if she wasn’t standing fully naked in front of him. “You’ve seen me without clothes, and I’ve seen you,” she said.
“Fuck. I know that.” He exhaled. “But…” Harry stopped and took a deep breath. With one hand over his eyes, he calmly told her, “You need lingerie.”
“Ooooh. I learned this word today from a movie,” Ezi said with confidence. “Laundry means–”
“No, not laundry.” Harry sighed. “Lingerie.”
“Huh?”
“Okay, you know what? Put the shirt back on. I’ll return with more clothes for you.”
“More clothes?” Ezi cried with frustration as Harry turned his back to her. He heard her put the shirt on, and she tapped him on the shoulder when she was done. “I hate being humans,” she complained, looking cross. “Clothes are so uncomfortable.”
“I know, right?” Harry chuckled and patted her on the head. He liked seeing her face scrunch up whenever he did that, because he knew that she couldn’t harm him. “Be a good siren and stay here. I’ll be right back.”
“And help me put on clothes?”
He sighed and turned away. “I will.”
“And launderey?”
The question stopped Harry at the door. He pinched his eyes shut and pressed a fist to his forehead. “Yes.” He let go of a defeated long breath. “That, too.”
.
.
.
Harry managed to find a brand new pair of underwear in his bedroom drawer. It was an embarrassing story, but he’d bought it as a gift for a girl he used to sleep with, then he found out she’d been lying to him about not having a boyfriend when she’d already been engaged. So now he just happened to have a set of new lingerie lying in his drawer.
“I don’t know if this would fit, but I’ll get you new ones tomorrow.” Harry froze in the doorway when he found his closet empty. “Chili, where’s the crazy girl?” he asked his black cat, who didn’t even bother to reply as she kept licking her little paw. Ugh, lucky for her, she was cute.
“Ezi! Where are you?!” Harry shouted as he padded down the hall.
“I’m here!” Ezi shouted back, her voice echoing from the bathroom.
It was only then that Harry remembered he’d left the water running, but when he got there, he found Ezi sitting in the bubble bath with a bright smile on her face; his joggers and Mickey Mouse t-shirt had been discarded on the floor.
He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed, smiling at her.
“I love this room!” she exclaimed, gathered bubbled in her palms and blew at them.
So, Harry was wrong. She liked warm baths.
“Water was spilling out, so I turned it off and gave myself a bath,” she told him.
“You know how?”
“I saw Ariel take a bath in the movie.”
Her response made him laugh. “Wow, you learn so much from Disney films.”
Ezi folded her arms on the edge of the tub as Harry sat down on it beside her. She glanced up at him, chin on her arm. It would be a lie to say Harry didn’t feel anything watching her covered in soap and naked in his bathtub. The steam made him sweat, dampening his shirt as it stuck to his skin. He wasn’t a sex addict or anything, but he’d been so stressed out lately and hadn’t been able to find a release with his unpaid babysitting job. It wouldn’t be a problem if Ezi’s human form wasn’t so attractive.
“Stop doing that,” Ezi’s voice pulled him back to reality.
He blinked at her. “Doing what?”
“You sometimes stare at me without saying anything.”
He pressed his lips into a smirk. “Aren’t you a clever girl? Just read my mind.”
“Can’t.” She shrugged while unconsciously spreading the bubbles across the edge of the tub. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to know what’s going on in that dirty little head of yours?”
The way she’d said it without the intention of making it flirty was so funny to Harry.
“Your head is dirty and little,” he teased.
“No. Yours.”
“Yours.”
“Yours.”
“Your head can literally fit between my palms,” said Harry as he cupped the sides of her heads to demonstrate. For the first time, Ezi burst out laughing and tried to shove him off. He didn’t let go of her, and they kept pushing back and forth until Harry lost his balance and fell headfirst into the tub.
The water splashed all over. When Harry realised what had happened, he found himself kneeling in the water between Ezi’s legs. Frantically, he pushed away, but the tub was so slippery that he landed back down on his butt. Laughter crackled out of Ezi as Harry managed to escape from the sticky situation and grabbed a towel to cover himself with. Most of the water had spilt outside the tub, revealing Ezi’s soapy breasts, which gave Harry an instant boner.
He grabbed another towel and held it up and open as he ordered. “Bathtime’s over. Get out.”
“You’re such an idiot,” Ezi said, still laughing as she stood up and let him wrap the towel around her body.
Harry frowned at her playful grin. “You’re the idiot,” he said, but his face was red. “Rinse yourself. I’ll wait.”
Then he waddled out of the bathroom, quietly cursing himself.
.
.
.
To not make the same mistake, Harry taught Ezi how to put on underwear by having her put it on over her clothes first, then letting her do it herself when he wasn’t there. She was a fast learner, so it didn’t take long until she’d learned how to put on clothes and tie her shoes. He could now imagine how hard it must be for single parents to raise a kid all by themselves. He was lucky that he didn’t have to work this week and could stay home to take care of Ezi. But starting from next week, he would have to go back to his busy celebrity life, and Ezi living with him would become a bigger problem than he’d expected. He could only hope that her mother would just take her back before the following Monday. It didn’t seem possible, though. He should never have brought her to London.
Anyway, first things first.
He’d have to get through his mother’s event without anyone suspecting a thing, and then he’d try to figure out what he should do next.
This was why he didn’t want kids. At least Ezi had common sense.
“Hey, there will be so many humans tonight at the ball. What if one of them triggers me? I can’t even threaten them?”
Forget what he’d just said.
“No, you’re not allowed to threaten anyone,” he told her from outside her room and blew out his cheeks as he checked his watch. “Hurry up. Our ride is almost here.”
The door was pulled open. Ezi emerged in her sparkling silver dress with her hair in a messy bun and subtle makeup but enough to accentuate her unique features. Harry didn’t know he was gawking until she gave him a playful smack on the cheek to bring him back to Earth. He blinked and caught her big round eyes. The silvery glitter on her eyelids made the blue in her eyes stand out even more. A sudden chill rushed down his spine as he squared his shoulders and fixed his black tie. “Y-You did your hair and makeup?”
Ezi nodded enthusiastically. “The girl in the magic board taught me!”
“You were watching those makeup tutorials?”
Harry swore he had never seen her so happy. She smiled so big that her eyes crinkled at the corners. “Thank you for that board, by the way.”
“It’s an iPad. But you’re welcome.”
Yes, he’d got her an iPad so she could watch YouTube videos and play dumb games and not be all up in his business. He was a single dad now. First to Chilli. Now to Ezi.
“An iPad,” Ezi mumbled to herself. He thought it was cute how her eyebrows would furrow every time she learned a new word and tried to memorise it.
Realising that he was about to simp, Harry shook off those pleasant thoughts about the fish girl and put on a nonchalant expression as he looked down at her white ballerina flats. He’d got her a nice pair of high heels to wear with this dress, but she’d kept falling and broken a vase in the living room, so he’d given up and got her these flats instead. Well, as long as she was comfortable and still looked cute and appropriate.
“Ready?” he asked her.
She took a deep breath; determination lit up her eyes. “Ready.”
“Hold on.” He held her shoulder, took a nice look at her, then let down two strands from her bun, so they nicely framed her face. “Better.” He smiled and pinched her cheek. “You look like someone I would date.”
As expected, Ezi responded to his compliment with a frown and smacked his hand away. “Touch my face again, and I’ll make sure you won’t be able to touch anything again.” Then she shoved past him and hurried down the stairs.
.
.
.
Ezili felt ashamed.
She had been looking forward to the ball tonight. She’d been so excited that she’d stayed up to watch those...what did Harry call them again? Oh, makeup tutorials. Just to look like those human girls with sparkling eyelids. The mermaids back home would be so impressed, but her mother certainly wouldn’t. She didn’t even want to imagine her mother’s reaction to her look tonight.
Harry had pointed out that human Ezili didn’t have a smell. In an animal kingdom, the signature smell set those animals apart from the other kinds and acted as proof that they were a part of a community, that they belonged. Human Ezili not having a smell was a reminder from her mother that she was not a siren right now, but she was not human either, and so she should finish her mission as soon as possible to return to the sea and be with her kind.
Ezili could not be distracted from her mission anymore. Harry had invited her to the ball, which meant there was no competition for her at this point. She was already making progress being the only female in his radar. Tonight, she hoped the romantic atmosphere of the ball would make him fall in love with her.
With her arm around his, they ascended the red-carpeted stairs of the castle leading to the ballroom. Ezili was amazed by the guests in fancy attires and expensive decorations sparkling silver and gold. The ballroom was impressive, with crystal chandeliers spiralling down from the arching sky-blue ceiling, illuminating the glimmering walls and a floor so polished it looked like a frozen winter lake.
Harry said their names to a servant at the door, and he bowed to Harry and Ezili as if they were royalty. Ezili didn’t show it, but she enjoyed being treated like the princess she knew she was.
“Finally, someone showing respect to me,” she mumbled as they followed the other guests inside.
Harry laughed at her remark. “I respect you.”
“You don’t even respect yourself,” she said, glaring at him.
“Can you just not insult me tonight? You’re pretending to be my date.”
“What’s a date?”
“Like...lovers,” Harry said, flicking his eyes around like the prey trying to spot a predator.
She thought she should calm him down, so she squeezed his forearm and said, “Do you wanna dance?”
Harry shook his head. “No, not the time.”
Confused, Ezili’s eyes followed Harry’s worried gaze to the lady in a seaweed coloured dress that fanned out at her feet. She was beautiful, with features resembling Harry's. That must be Harry’s mother -- the host of the ball.
“Remember what I told you,” Harry said, squeezing Ezili’s cold hands. “Do not say a word to my--Mother!”
“Oh, my darling son, you came!”
Harry let go of Ezili to hug his mother. The woman pulled away and turned to Ezili with the same dimpled smile as her son’s. “Ahh, this must be Ezili,” she said, and Ezili shook her hands like how humans did in movies.
“Yes.” Harry cleared his throat as he laced his fingers with Ezili’s. “This is my date -- Ezili Hans.”
His mother smiled at him. “I was afraid you were gonna bring Niall with a wig.”
“Didn’t work the last time,” Harry said. “Never do it again.”
Harry’s mother laughed before turning back to Ezili. “It’s so nice to meet you. You may call me Mrs Styles, or Annalise. What do you think about this event?”
Ezili flicked her helpless gaze to Harry, who quickly spoke on her behalf, “She thinks it’s great. Very s-shiny.” Seeing Annalise’s smile vanished, Harry added, “Sore throat. The doctor says she has to stay silent for a week. Also, do you mind if I show her around and introduce her to the other guests?”
“Wait, but we haven’t--”
“Love you, Mum.”
Harry pecked his mother on the cheek, grabbed Ezili’s hand and pulled her with him. They finally made it outside to the garden’s fountain, where the guests were chatting in groups and sipping on wine. Harry released Ezili’s hand and exhaled through his mouth. “That was scary.”
“That was awful!” She hit him on the arm. “You almost blew our covers.”
“I know. I’m always anxious around my mum,” he said, looking distressed. “When I was little, she could always tell when I was lying.”
“Maybe you’re not a good liar.”
“Not as good as you,” he chuckled, putting his hands on his hips. “You know what? Changing plans. You’re allowed to talk, but just say simple things like ‘hello’, ‘how are you?’, ‘it’s wonderful’, bla bla.”
Ezili nodded. “Got it.”
Harry opened his mouth to say something else but suddenly froze; his eyes went wide. “Shit, that’s Aunt Beatrice.” Ezili looked over her shoulder to see a chubby late laughing with a group of people and being the loudest. “Super annoying,” Harry said. “Everyone in my family hates her.” He turned to Ezili and patted her on the shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
“Let me come with you.”
“Not when I’m talking to Satan. I mean, Aunt Beatrice. Just stay here and don’t talk to anyone.”
“But--”
Harry already left.
Ezili muttered curses at him under her breath. She had no choice but to sit by the fountain and wait for him to return. She saw him approaching the woman he hated with just a happy attitude as he’d had when talking to his mother. Fake. Humans were all pretentious and fake. They disgusted her. All these people.
“Hey, may I sit here?”
Ezili’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she heard the voice. She looked up and went stiff when she locked eyes with a tall handsome man. The black frame of glasses sat nicely on his high nose. His high cheekbones raised as he offered a polite smile. “Sorry. Am I bothering you?”
Ezili was thinking of what to say to him when she saw what was in his hand.
“An iPad!” she exclaimed. “I got one! Harry gave me one yesterday!”
The man looked at the iPad in his hand and chuckled. “Oh yeah, I brought it with me to read because I don’t really like these events.”
Ezili nodded fast. “I don’t, either. I’m so glad I’m not the only one.”
The man smiled again; his dark eyes twinkled with the fairy lights above their heads. “May I sit with you.”
“Sure!” Ezili hurriedly scooted over for the man to sit. Forget Harry. He’d told her never to leave his side then left her here all on her own, so who cared if she talked to one stranger? At least this one didn’t want to be here, either.
“What do you read on your iPad?” she asked him.
“I’d say books to impress you, but I’m actually reading a manga,” he said and chuckled. “Attack on Titan. Have you heard of it?”
Ezili shook her head. “Do they have something like this for The Little Mermaid?”
“I don’t know. But I’m sure they have a manga for everything these days, so you might find one about mermaids, too,” the man said and put the iPad down on his lap. “What’s your name?”
“Ezili...Hans. Ezili Hans,” said Ezili as she offered her hand.
The man shook it with another warm smile. “I’m Dawson Styles.”
It took Ezili a second to recognise that name. “Harry told me not to talk to you,” she mumbled, frowning.
However, Dawson didn’t look bothered by it. “Oh, right, you came here with Harry,” he said. “He gave you an iPad, right?”
“Yeah. He’s my...date.”
“So why are you here all by yourself?”
Ezili crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “He needed to talk to that loud lady over there. He said she was evil.”
Dawson leaned forward to look past her, and when he spotted Harry with his aunt, his mouth curled slightly. “Yup, that lady is scary. We’re all scared of her.”
“You know her?”
“Yeah, she’s my mum.”
Ezili flinched, her eyes shot open. “Oh...sorry.”
Dawson just laughed. “Well, Harry wasn’t wrong. My mother could be scary sometimes.”
“All mothers are,” muttered Ezili, but she wasn’t sure if Dawson had heard her.
“You’re from the States?” he asked.
She blinked. “What?”
“Your accent.”
“Oh. Y-Yeah.”
“How long have you been in London?”
“Just three days.”
“How do you like it?”
“It’s...grey.”
The answer made Dawson cackle. “Yeah, it is.” He lowered his head and adjusted his glasses. “Bet it’s way more sunnier where you’re from.”
Ezili lifted her shoulders. “I don’t like the sun that much either, so it’s all good.”
Dawson nodded. They sat in silence for two seconds, then he said, “You look beautiful, by the way.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, not knowing what else to respond.
“How did you know Harry?”
Ezili was about to answer when she realised that Harry hadn’t taught her what to answer for this question. He’d probably assumed that they would be together all night, so he wouldn’t have to prepare her to lie about such basic information. Helplessly, she looked back to find Harry, but he wasn’t there anymore. Both he and Dawson’s mother had disappeared.
Ezili jumped to her feet. “Sorry, I have to go. It was nice talking to you, Dawson.” Without paying him a second look, she ran off to look for Harry.
He couldn’t have abandoned her, right? At least not here at his family’s ball. But how could she be so sure? She’d witnessed him being courteous to his enemy. That man could not be trusted.
Why were there so many people?
Where was she?
Ezili was too busy cursing Harry in her head that she hadn’t paid attention to where she was going. Now she found herself standing in an empty hall. She could hear the muffled sound of the ballroom behind her, so she intended to return to it.
“Hey, baby,” said a blond-haired man she ran into at a turn. She tried to sidestep him, but he was in her way. She blocked her nose with a finger and took a step back to keep a distance from him. He smelled funny. Why were his eyes red?
“H-Have you seen Harry?” she asked the man with the buzzcut. “Tall. Curly hair. Walks and talks slowly. Acts like he’s better than you when he’s not.”
“Harry?” The man snorted, his eyelids fluttered as if he might pass out any moment. He put a hand on the wall to keep his balance. “Damn, that motherfucker always lands the hotties.”
Ezili guessed that this man was not in his right mind to tell her where Harry was, so she pushed him aside to go. Suddenly, he caught her by the wrist and yanked her into him. “Hey, where are you going, baby?”
“Let me go!” she screamed and tried to shove him off. It seemed like all of her strength had disappeared with her tail. She felt helpless against this man. He managed to take both her wrists and pinned them above her head and her against the wall.
“Leave Harry,” he whispered into her ear, his breath hot and foul-smelling. She felt like she might throw up. “He’s trash anyway. The rat of the family. Can’t believe he’s getting all this when his mother dies.”
Ezili was trapped between the man’s stinky body and the wall. She knew she’d promised Harry not to attack anyone tonight, but she needed to fight for herself. Without hesitation, her teeth went straight for the man’s neck. He screamed and jumped back, losing his balance and dropping to the floor. Ezili could taste blood on her tongue as she licked her lip and gazed down at the terrified man. The bite mark on his neck was bleeding, staining the white collar of his suit.
“You bitch!”
“Ezi!”
Ezili whipped her head and found Harry, so she ran to him as the evil man clumsily got to his feet.
“What happened?” he asked her, his face pallid with fright.
“This bitch bit me!” the man shouted, pointing the finger at Ezili.
Harry turned back to her with rage in his eyes. “You bit my cousin?! I told you not to hurt anyone! What’s wrong with you?!”
“I didn’t have a choice,” she yelled back, angry that he’d believed the words of this bastard. “He was touching me! I don’t like being touched!”
The realisation flashed across Harry’s face. He put his hands on her shoulders; his eyebrows sloped as he swept his eyes from her head to toes. “Where did he touch you?”
“I didn’t do anything to your whore.”
Before Ezili could even react to those words, Harry went straight to him with his foot in his cousin’s stomach and again when his cousin tried to say something. Ezili had to grab his arm and pulled him away before he murdered someone. She didn’t care if he did, though. She just didn’t want to draw more attention to herself and get exposed in front of all the other guests.
Panting, Harry adjusted his tie and stabbed a finger at the man on the floor. “If I see you put your hands on a woman again, I’ll beat your ass and make sure you’ll never get to set foot back into this family again. You hear me?”
The man couldn’t speak, only whimper.
Ezili opened her mouth to question, but Harry stopped her by taking her hand. “Come with me.”
159 notes · View notes
itsthewritergal · 4 years
Text
It’s all a mess -  F.W x reader
Y/N and Fred had been dating for a year, but they had been friends since the very first day, when Fred and George let her sit with them on the train. She had all been sorted into Gryffindor which just made their friendship grow stronger. Although recently Y/N and Fred had done nothing but argue. Constantly. George was growing tired of having to console the both of them, and their friends avoided both of them when they argued.
Y/N sat with her friend from Ravenclaw at dinner, she was currently avoiding Fred after their argument the night before. She was filling in her friends on the details,
“So I was in the library right, doing my essay because I wanted to go to the Quidditch game next week” She started after shovelling some food into her mouth “Fred comes in all high and mighty because I dared to speak to some Hufflepuff about my potions class. He starts accusing me in front of everyone about loyalty, when he was with Angelina all last week and barely even spoke to me” She snapped, groaning loudly “He then tells me that he doesn’t know why we are still together!”
“Maybe it’s not such a great idea you two being together” Her friend said with a sad smile
“She’s got a point you know” Luna mused from her place next to you “Perhaps you two just aren’t suited anymore” she hummed twirling her fork around on her plate
“But I love him” Y/N argued
“Yes we know that. But does he love you? From what you’ve been saying it doesn’t sound like it” Her friend said with a sympathetic smile
Y/N turned the conversation quickly onto her Charms homework, in an attempt to pull her friends away from the conversation. But their words played heavily on her mind. Fred had been acting distant and angrier than usual, but surely that wasn’t because he was falling out of love with her. With a huff she said goodbye to her friends and made her way back to the dorm.
———-
Walking through the portrait hole, Y/N caught sight of Fred and Angelina giggling together, her fingers traced over his arm as his was wrapped around her shoulders. They looked happy together, just how Y/N and Fred had done a few months ago, with a sad smile Y/N knew exactly what she had to do. Taking a few steps towards them, George was the first one to notice that she had walked into the room. His eyes widened in shock as he kicked Fred to get his attention. Angelina was the next to notice Y/N and she quickly pinched Fred, who was yet to notice her presence.
“Don’t stop now” He laughed “I was just getting to enjoying that”
“No of course, don’t stop on my account” Y/N said sadly, “Seems you two are happy” She gave them a weak smile
“YN it isn’t what you think” Angelina said “We were just talking, and I”
“It’s fine, everyone knows me and Fred just aren’t quite working anymore” She said “I guess this is probably for the best” Y/N pulled off the bracelet that Fred had given her for their one year anniversary
“What are you doing?” He questioned standing up and pushing Angelina off of him. “Why are you giving me this?” He said suddenly feeling a wash of nerves fall over him
“i’m done Freddie, I’m done with all the fighting, never knowing what’s going to happen next. I’m done, we’re done” Y/N said solemnly “Take care of him for me” She laughed to Angelina, who was looking just as guilt ridden as Fred did.
“YN let’s talk about this” He pleaded
“I can’t. I’m sorry” She said making her way quickly out of the common room.
———-
The halls were empty, apart from Y/N’s quiet footsteps as she made her way towards the Astronomy Tower. She knew that nobody would be stupid enough to look up there at this hour. Not that anyone would miss her. Sitting herself down on the cold floor, Y/N let herself cry. Her sobs echoed loudly, but she didn’t care, she wanted to scream. Everything they had together was gone just like that, everything that she had dreamed about was gone. She didn’t hear the footsteps, or George settling himself beside her.
“He’s an idiot you know” He commented, wrapping a blanket around her
“He got what he wanted, he’s had a crush on Angelina since second year” Y/N laughed bitterly, pushing thoughts of the other girl out of her head
“He doesn’t love her, I’ll admit I don't know what he was thinking in the common room but he doesn’t love her” George tried his hardest to make her feel a little better.
“Well it sure doesn’t look that way” She said resting her head on George’s shoulder “It’s all a mess George”
They sat up there for what felt like hours, reminiscing on their old adventures before everything took a turn for the worse.
“You’re still coming home for Christmas right?” George asked turning to look at her. He couldn’t remember a Christmas where she didn’t come to the burrow, it had become their tradition
“I don’t know George, I don’t think I will. I’ll go home, have a quiet one instead” She hummed, thinking back to her family who all hated Christmas.
“You can’t! It would break mum” He said in an attempt to make her feel a little better “And Ginny, she loves it when you come”
“I don’t think I can George, I don’t want to face him, I don’t even want to look at him” She said unsure if the feelings would go away by Christmas
“Lucky I’m the better looking one eh?” He laughed, grinning proudly as she smiled up at him.
———-
“Come on then how was your Christmas?” Ginny said sitting herself down opposite Y/N
“It was nice” She lied easily “Mum made this massive roast and we all opened our presents all together, even went down to the park to ice skate” She said, hoping that Ginny didn’t catch on
“Wow, sounds pretty incredible” She smiled, “We missed you” she added quietly, with a small glance towards Fred “We all did”
“Don’t be daft, it must have been nice not to have me crashing it” She laughed
“Fred barely left his room” she said sadly “You know he’s really sorry”
“Can we please talk about something else” Y/N practically begged, she had managed to push all the thoughts of Fred to the back of her mind. Hearing that he missed her was something she knew she wouldn't be able to handle.
“Well here comes the post” Ginny said, grateful for the interruption .
A large parcel thumped down on Y/N’s lap. Wrapped in brown paper she pulled at the string carefully. A letter fell out, and a maroon knitted jumper was revealed.
Molly Weasley.
Feeling a few pairs of eyes on her as she pulled the jumper out of the paper, Y/N stood up and ran out of the Great Hall. She had tried her hardest to be strong, but she just couldn’t hold it in any longer. Making her way out into the courtyard she found a corner and sunk down onto a bench
“You okay?” George asked, following her
“Tell your mum thank you, but I can’t accept this” Y/N said
“Of course you can” George cut her off, sitting himself next to her “It’s Fred who messed up, not us”
“George, it hurts okay. It hurts to know that I’m not only loosing Fred, but i’m loosing you too. I can’t come between you two. I wont let myself”
“You’re not loosing me you muppet” He argued, only to be cut off  by her
“Yes I am. I couldn’t write to you this Christmas, because I didn’t know what I could say to you that I didn’t want to talk about with you and Fred. I couldn’t tell you I had an awful Christmas because I didn’t want to let Fred know that I wasn’t doing ok”
“You had a bad Christmas?” George said
“You know my family, they don’t do Christmas. But that isn’t the point” She said “The point is-”
“I messed up. That’s what the point is” Fred said making his way towards the bench
“I think you should go” Y/N said slowly look Fred up and down
“Just let me talk” he said calmly
“I’ll leave you two to it” George said giving Y/N a small sideways hug
“I can’t apologise because I know it wont help” Fred started “I was angry at you. I thought you were flirting with that Hufflepuff boy, I heard him talking to his friends about how fit you were and it annoyed me. I wanted to get back at you. I wasn’t thinking” He said
“Fred why would I look at anyone when I had you”
“Have” He corrected quickly “You’ve still got me, I know we aren’t together but there isn’t anyone else”
“Freddie” She sighed “All we do is argue” “Not any more, c’mon Y/N. We love each other, we can get through this” He promised, his tone was desperate, voice wavering slightly as though tears were about to fall
“I’ve been an idiot. Christmas was hell without you. Mum was miserable, and angry with me when I told her. Dad had to stop her from driving to your house to pick you up” He chuckled slightly “Ginny told me you had a pretty great Christmas”
“I lied to her, mum and dad didn’t even realise I was home. They went on some couples retreat” She laughed
“So you didn’t go ice skating?” She shook her head “And you didn’t have a massive Christmas dinner?” Once again shook her head “And you didn’t have loads of presents?” She shook her head again “I’m sorry Y/N”
“It’s fine, I did Christmas my own little way” She smiled.
They settled into a silence, neither one wanting to break the comfort that they had so desperately missed. Fred placed a tentative arm around her shoulders
“You know I love you right?” He said
“Fred don’t” She started
“I’m being serious Y/N” He brushed a strand of hair out of her face “I love you”
“I love you too but everything is just so much” She huffed sadly
“We love each other, that’s all that matters right?” He said grasping at any little hope that they might be okay
“Yeah, that’s all that matters” She said, wrapping her arms around him. Nestling her head into his neck.
“Are my favourite couple back tougher?” George shouted from the other side of the courtyard quickly making his way over
“How long have you been waiting there?” Y/N laughed
“Since I left” He grinned mischievously “So?”
“Yes we’re back together” Y/N grinned happily
“I’ll go write to mum! She’ll be expecting you at ours next holiday. Don’t tell the others but you’re her favourite” George winked as he skipped off
“Remind me again why I stick around with you two insufferable idiots” She shook her head laughing
“Well you’re stuck with us now” Fred grinned.
559 notes · View notes
abduct-me-helen · 4 years
Text
r/insaneparents
Posted by u/gerrysghost 2 weeks ago
My mother trained me in the occult after murdering my father.
Putting a read more so it doesn’t trigger anyone. Mentions of murder, corpses, blood, gore-you know what, if you have a trigger, it’s probably here. Read with caution.
[expand]
 shelly_seashore 382 points · 1 week
    ,,,,,,are you okay????
               gerrysghost 692 points · 1 week ago
                     no.
dankme 232 points · 1 week
    when she was skinning herself, what did she say? “lend a helping hand, would ya?”
           blinksjisoo 198 points · 5 days ago
                you can’t just ask someone that holy shit!!
                       gerrysghost 719 points · 5 days ago
she only asked for me to cut off my hand once lol, but I said no don’t worry and no there was much more, uh well, screaming.
                                     blinksjisoo 201 points · 4 days ago
                                           she asked you to cut off your hand??????
                                                gerrysghost 789 points · 3 days ago
                                                        yeah but only once
    [expand]
aheinthesetryingtimes 319 points · 1 week ago
    get therapy.
           gerrysghost 456 points · 5 days ago
                no u.
chajoan_merei 326 points · 1 week ago
       this is fake lol.
             stella_tkadi 298 points · 1 week ago
I’m going to sound insane if I say this but I was attacked by a book once so I believe him.
                        chajoan_merei 392 points · 1 week ago
           I don’t believe you but tell me what happened.
                  stella_tkadi 538 points · 5 days ago
                         a book ate my toe.
                             chajoan_merei 361 points · 4 days ago
                                        …CHOMP
                                   [expand]
dom_swain 473 points · 6 days ago
 holy shit,,,I think I met your mother. are you the dude that bought “ex altiora” from me for like, £5000 pounds???
             gerrysghost 456 points · 5 days ago
                    …maybe
                             dom_swain 393 points · 4 days ago
no shit. hold on, a few years after the fact I did some digging. I thought you were dead????
                                           gerrysghost 456 points · 4 days ago
                                                   hence the username.
                                                             dom_swain 387 points · 3 days ago
      are you like her? your mum I mean? ghost-wise?
                                                                     gerrysghost 626 points · 2 days ago
for a while, but she didn’t have a monster boyfriend to help her escape being bound to a book.
      Jlo_jello 687 points · 2 days ago
Proof that childhood trauma really *does* turn people into monsterfuckers.
    [expand]
r/roastme
Posted by u/michaeldistortion 1 week ago
I am an aspect of It is Not What It Is. Roast me!
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kathwren_ 598 points · 1 week ago
    holy shit op this picture gave me a migraine
           d379 490 points · 1 week ago
              literally. how’d you even make this picture???
                       michaeldistortion 598 points · 1 week ago
                             my boyfriend took it!
                                    kathwren_ 489 points · 1 week ago
                                           yeah right. And what is It Is Not What It Is?
                                               michaeldistortion 571 points · 1 week ago
                                                       correct!
              [expand]
jojo_no_3 598 points · 5 days ago
   you must give the girls a great time with those hands, huh buddy?
           gerrysghost 598 points · 5 days ago
                   oh, he does
                       [expand]
kishaki214 598 points · 5 days ago
     can you even see with all your hair in your face
           amber_harlot63 671 points · 5 days ago
                 he has literal *monster* hands and that’s your concern??
                       sasi_soho 671 points · 5 days ago
                            she’s not wrong tho
   [expand]
jay_nola89 572 points · 4 days ago
       you look like what people find in the backrooms.
              michaeldistortion 459 points · 4 days ago
                         :)
[expand]
mommy_blogging_tips 492 points · 3 days ago
        You better take this down RIGHT NOW. You made my son CRY.
            amber_harlot63 671 points · 3 days ago
              well that’s a roast if I ever heard one. so ugly that you make people cry-
                            michaeldistortion 296 points · 2 days ago
                                   :(
                                        gerrysghost 293 points · 2 days ago
                                              don’t listen to them michael. they’re just jealous.
                                       [expand]
tired_yale_student 401 points · 3 days ago
        YOU STOLE MY DOG. HOLY SHIT.
     waytogojanice 339 points · 3 days ago
                          what happened lmao
                                   tired_yale_student 437 points · 2 days ago
so I’m walking in the park, yeah? and then this yellow door pops out of fucking nowhere and THIS PERSON is standing right next to it. my dog yanks me towards him and his leash slips and then all of a sudden my dog is running through the yellow fucking door. RIP Pluto.
               [expand]
 r/showerthoughts
Posted by u/oliver_robs_banks 1 week ago
100% of people that read this are going to die
 -
what_the_georgie 304 points · 1 week ago
   thanks I hate it.
         oliver_robs_banks 233 points · 5 days ago
                no problem! :)
stonks 294 points · 5 days ago
    is this a threat?
         skincare_circus 359 points · 4 days ago
              only if you want it to be 😊
                   stonks 694 points · 4 days ago
                        fuck off nikola
 [expand]
r/memes
Posted by u/memesource_today 1 week ago
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marto_kart 293 points · 5 days ago
   no. they are good cows!!!! :D
         stonks 220 points · 5 days ago
              that’s what they want you to think, martin.
                     marto_kart 249 points · 5 days ago
                           :(
r/me_irl
Posted by u/melanie_queen today 1 week ago
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d_tonner 293 points · 5 days ago
    lame.
         melanie_queen 220 points · 5 days ago
              ???
                   d_tonner 749 points · 5 days ago
                          I never got caught.
                                         [expand]
ebouchard 244 points · 5 days ago
    Accurate.
        melanie_queen 431 points · 5 days ago
            fuck off bitchard.
[expand]
r/creepypms
Posted by u/naomi_herne 1 week ago
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adelola29 304 points · 5 days ago
    that’s fucking creepy.
stella_tkadi 356 points · 5 days ago
                and disturbing. did you report them op?
                       naomi_herne 442 points · 5 days ago
I didn’t. I just blocked and deleted the number from my contacts. You’re right though, I definitely should’ve reported them as well.
         [expand]
notjonnydville 483 points · 4 days ago
    now why do I feel like I know exactly who this is?
        stonks 394 points · 4 days ago
           because even murderers have more subtlety than her.      
                skincare_circus 572 points · 4 days ago
you wound me tim! can I call you tim? I’m going to call you tim. after all, the stranger is very particular about subtlety, isn’t it?
[expand]
skincare_circus 523 points · 4 days ago
    I still stand by what I said! you do have quite lovely skin! nothing like the archivists.
           marto_kart 472 points · 3 days ago
                hey! I think jon has great skin!
                       skincare_circus 361 points · 3 days ago
                              of course you do, dear.
[expand]
 -
picture of michael made by @ironicmemeing-art​
447 notes · View notes
philliamwrites · 4 years
Text
The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.3]
Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses
Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings
Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content
Words: 7.7k
Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.
Notes: Chapter 2 | Chapter 4
Chapter 03: Ties That Bind
Where war, and joy, and terror Have all at times held away; Where both delight and horror Have had their fitful day.
The happiest under heaven A king of powerful mind; A company so proven Would now be hard to find
Gawain put on a good cheer. ‘Why should I hesitate?’ He said. ‘Kind or severe, We must engage our Fate.’
[Sir Gawain and the Green Knight]
    „Breathe,“ Hanneman says for the third time. At every tap of his pen against the table, you flinch as if someone is knocking right against the inside of your skull. “You have to feel the Crest, become one with it. Don’t think of it as an addition; see it as an extension of your very self.”
    You exhale but it’s hard to focus after you’ve been sitting in the same position for nearly two hours and your legs keep falling asleep.
    “Focus on it,” Hanneman continues. He starts to gesture with his free hand, an indicator that he’s just as frustrated with your lack of progress as you are. “Focus on the feeling that took hold of you when you fought the bandits. Imagine what you want. Ask yourself what it is you really want, and take hold of that picture.”
    Well, first of all, you really want a sandwich.
    For the past few weeks, you’ve been waking up before sunrise to attend private lessons with Hanneman to get a hold of your Crest’s power. Now the end of the month approaches, and still your body refuses to get accustomed to work at such an early hour, and more importantly without eating first. An hour ago, your stomach started growling, but Professor Hanneman has proved again and again to be very successful in ignoring factors that disturb his lessons. You continue breathing through what you consider hunger pains instead of the raise of new powers, but with the sound of screaming students outside and the occasional flapping of wings as Pegasus Knights fly by on their patrol, it’s anything but successful.
    “Focus!” Hanneman chides again as if he can read your mind and knows exactly you’re thinking of the pheasant roast with berry sauce on the menu today.
    “I’m trying,” you groan and slump into the chair, defeated. “But I don’t feel anything.”
    “Hmm hmmm,” Hanneman hums and looks at you like you were supposed to understand what he’s conveying with that sound. “Maybe we’re looking at it the wrong way,” he says once you don’t follow up on his inexplicable sound. “Maybe we should stop thinking of it as a common Crest, but approach it like it is something entirely different.” He quickly notes something on his paper, then proceeds to flip through the open books he’s splayed out on his desk. “There is so little we know about the Crest of the Herald. I am much frustrated no one thought of studying it a thousand years ago!”
    “I don’t understand. How can it be different?” Your first lesson solely focused on Crests. How they are thought to be power incarnate, bestowed upon humans by the Goddess countless ages ago. Today those who are descendants of Fódlan’s Ten Elites and Four Saints, who fought during the War of Heroes beside Saint Seiros, wear Crests, a sign of wealth and nobility.
    “Well, one possible explanation could be that for whatever reason, the first Herald was different from his fellow warriors, the Ten Elites,” Hanneman offers, leaning back into his chair and looking a lot more interested in the conversation now. “The Goddess must have found him worthy of her power just as she found Saint Seiros worthy.”
    “Then why wasn’t he a Saint?” you wonder. From your understanding, the Four Saints were special comrades of Saint Seiros, just as guided by the Goddess as their leader. What had made the Herald from back then different? “According to everything you told me, he sounds a lot like this Macuil person. Focusing on strategy and all that.”
    “Saint Macuil,” Hanneman corrects you, but there’s no bite in his voice. “And yes, perhaps he was akin to the Saints, but that clearly wasn’t what determined the final decision to name him Herald.”
    “Well, that’s just my kind of luck,” you mumble, but when Hanneman makes a puzzled sound, you ask instead, “And you’re sure I’m a descendant of him?”
    “Most likely! You bear a Major Crest, which means the Herald’s blood runs strong in your body. After he disappeared, he might have settled down and started a family. Unfortunately, nothing is recorded about him after the War of Heroes concluded.”
    “Then how come there was no one else in a thousand years who bore the same Crest?” You aren’t sure you fully understand how they work. Apparently, Crests grant special powers to those who hold them such as high aptitude for magic or enhanced strength. But you know better than anyone that the Crest of the Herald is special. It doesn’t simply give you a boon, it allows you to command the flow of battle. But is it really a blessing bestowed by the Goddess? You don’t remember a divine revelation or talking to a Goddess. Or did that maybe occur even before you were found by the Officers Academy’s students? Before your memory loss? You certainly don’t feel chosen by a deity.
    “Trying to explain the Goddess’ whims would wield about the same result as asking this question,” Hanneman says. “Sometimes a Crest may skip generations. No one can say with certainty who will be chosen. If it will be the first or third born. That is why we must further study Crests! For example, why, unlike other Crests, has your appeared physically visible?” Hanneman mutters more questions under his breath and notes them quickly on his paper. It’s remarkable how enthusiastic he approaches the topic if it only didn’t make you feel like an experiment lying on a dissection table.
    “I want to know so much more about the first Herald,” you mumble. “What was his name? Where was he from?” Why did he disappear and what were the costs he had paid for such a title. Only one month in and Lady Rhea already granted you an impressive room to reside. People treat you with respect and admiration even though you aren’t doing much besides wave at them on the streets or hold some conversations. If being the Herald only encompasses these tasks, you’ll gladly take on the role and speak to people. But that would be a dream too good to be true.
    “We can only speculate,” Hanneman says. “Some believe the Herald came when Seiros needed him most. Our Goddess’ answer to her cry of help. Others believe he was simply a general who originated form a farmer’s family. Other, smaller sources talk about a prince from a far off land who passed through Fódlan and decided to stay. But in all cases, the Herald was a great asset to win the War of Heroes and save Fódlan from the tyranny of the Fell King.”
    “Yeah, no pressure there,” you mumble, sinking further into your seat. Hopefully no one expects you to save Fódlan from evil monarchs. If yes, it certainly won’t happen on an empty stomach. When Hanneman releases you, there’s only one place for you to be. The Dining Hall is crowded at this time of hour. Students and faculty bustle everywhere, eager to get their favourite meal on a plate. Just like them, you are drawn in by the amazing smell of roasted meet and freshly baked pastries.
    The only thing you can live without is how once you enter the room several heads turn in your direction, and a ripple of “Look, it’s the Herald” goes through the crowd, spreading like a wave. Or a disease, you think with a sour taste in your mouth as you move through the parting sea. They want you to acknowledge them but Goddess forbid you actually engage in conversation with them and they flee like you’re the Herald of Pest.
    “Herald!” Well, not everyone escapes. Some seem to like living dangerous.
    Edelgard looks straight at you from between the other students from the Eagle class sitting at a table, removing any doubt she means anyone else but you. Running from her would be a sign of defeat, so you drag yourself over to the Eagle table and give the round an uncertain smile. “Hello.”
    “Herald, if you have time, please sit with us,” Edelgard offers but the look she pins on you doesn't give you any choice. The silence of her classmates speaks louder than words, and a quick glance to Hubert tells you that he very much would like for you to notsit with them.
    “Sure,” you say lamely and sit opposite from her where Bernadetta quickly shuffles to the side to make room, and then further down the bench until she jumps to her feet and flees from the hall. It’s a miracle she’s out of her chambers in the first place, undoubtedly Byleth’s work.
    “Did you manage any progress with Professor Hanneman?” Edelgard asks, carefully cutting her pheasant roast into small bite-sized pieces. She looks the complete opposite from someone capable of hacking away their enemies but you wouldn’t dare to underestimate her.
    “It’s slow,” you admit, solely focusing on shoving potatoes from one side of your plate to the other so you don’t have to look at anyone. “I’ve only grasped the basics of how Crests work and the Herald’s is so different.”
    “Research might prove more fruitful if you’d be called into action,” she says, and it’s difficult to determine if that statement is a simple observation or underlying critique towards Rhea’s decision to leave you out of the major education system. At least that’s something you’re sure of. Edelgard is difficult.
    “Maybe. But chances are higher I get myself killed somehow on the battlefield.” You’re already dreading the approaching noon hours. Byleth has worked out a special training programme for you and the house leaders. So far there hasn’t been a day without aching muscles and bruises for you. Thinking of Byleth, you can’t help but ask, “So how’s Byleth as a Professor?”
    Edelgard considers her plate with mild interest, but her index fingers start tapping against her cutlery. She has small, delicate hands. Cute hands. You gawk at them for two seconds before noticing Hubert starring daggers at you, and quickly avert your eyes to your cup of ginger tea like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.
    “Our professor shows knowledge in the most curious things,” he says, surprising you by joining the conversation. “I think the Adrestian Empire will benefit greatly from that.”
    You aren’t sure how leading the class correlates directly to joining the Empire, but you don’t want to point that out. Hubert is still too much of a puzzle you’re adamant on not piecing together because whatever picture waits for you after the assembly might be one of horror.
    “She really is one to look up to,” Edelgard agrees, but she isn’t looking at anyone, so it seems she’s saying it more to herself. You want to try and read more out of her expression, but distraction comes quickly in form of more students from the Eagle class. Caspar is the first bouncing excitedly towards the table, and still he somehow miraculously manages to keep his food from flying everywhere. “Herald!” he calls and slides right on the seat right next to you. “How’s the head situation going?”
    “Caspar,” Linhardt chides and gives his friend the disappointed look of a parent that can’t bring his child to use a fork to eat. “Would you stop pestering the Herald with the same question every day?”
    Linhardt hits the mark. It was nice in the beginning to have someone show so much interest in your wellbeing, but now you don’t know if the daily reminder how you fail to regain pieces of your past is rude or just Caspar’s naive politeness.
    “Yeah well.” You try to stuff as much potatoes in your mouth as possible just to avoid talking about it. “Nothin’ yeff.”
    “Herald, please try to keep your manners in check, will you?” Ferdinand comments because of course he catches you with your mouth full and sauce dripping from the corners. Unlucky for him, you don’t really care.
    “Well, sorry.” Caspar frowns and scratches the remains from his plate. The two minutes you needed to finish your potatoes, he’s cleared his whole plate. “I just thought it might help.”
    “Help to be reminded what’s missing?” Linhardt doesn’t look convinced. “I think the Herald knows so better than anyone.”
    “Guys, drop the subject,” Edelgard intervenes. “Let us finish our meals now. Classes resume presently and I don’t want to hear any stomachs growling, understood?” The last part goes with a pointed look towards Linhardt, who answers with a lazy shrug while continuing to poke at his food, looking bored out of his mind. It lasts about three seconds before he brightens up and turns towards you while rummaging through his school bag. From that, he pulls out notes and a pen, and unceremoniously shoves them into your hands. “I have a question, Herald. Would you be so kind and look over these strategic proposals I’ve developed from the last lesson? I understand what you taught us were basics as we find them in the library. I simply took the time and applied those to the strengths and abilities of my classmates.”
    You raise your eyebrows. “You did?” Up until now, you didn’t know Linhardt was paying attention whenever you gave the students your sorry excuses of lessons. You feel like you’ve seen him asleep far more than actually looking at the board or writing, so him presenting his notes to you now is more than a surprise. He has a clean handwriting, small letters that curl into themselves and forget to take a break between words. You squint at the sentences, trying to make them out. It sure doesn’t help that half of it is crossed out by what looks like a strategy sketch with little circles and everyone’s names filling out the space.
    “This looks … elaborate,” you comment, unsure if you’ll ever be able to solve this enigma.
    “No worries.” Linhardt gives a little smile. “Please give me your answer report until tomorrow. And feel free to correct me on anything I’ve done wrong.”
    He’s probably done a much better job than you on your lesson notes, but you nod with a lopsided smile. “I will.”
    “Oh, and while we’re at strategy talk,” Caspar jumps right in, “any good ideas how to take on a taller opponent?”
    “A good kick to their shins?” you suggest.
    “A dagger to their liver?” Edelgard says.
    “Poison in their cup?” Hubert offers.
    “You’re all animals,” Ferdinand says.
    Linhardt groans. “I toldyou how to win in a fight like that, Caspar. Why won’t you listen to me?”
    You don’t want to be part of the argument breaking out between them, so you turn away and try to see what the other students are doing in the dining hall. At the opposite end, Claude catches your eyes and waves like he’s been waiting way too long to finally get your attention. He points at Edelgard and flaps his arms like a chicken. He points at you and spreads his hands behind his head, forming antlers with his fingers. When Edelgard follows your eyes, his head whips around and he pretends to agree with whatever Lysithea just said.
    “I hope you forgive Caspar’s enquiries,” she says, steering your focus back to her. She’s gently tapping the corners of her mouth with an embroidered napkin, and oh there they are again, her delicate fingers. You look away before Hubert catches you staring again and decides to put poison in your cup7. “I speak on behalf of everyone in the Black Eagle House when I say we wish for your full recovery to be soon.”
    “If wishing would only get the job done, I might have something to work with by now.”
    Edelgard doesn’t blink, her expression frozen. “Meaning?”
    “I thought I'd come here and one of the Church's healers would just wave their hands to return my memories,” you mumble, scribbling a tiny Claude with little, evil horns on his head in the corner of Linhardt’s notes.
    Edelgard looks at you like you've just insulted her whole noble lineage. “That isn't how magic works.”
    You throw your arms up in frustration to emphasise that yes, that's the point. You don't know how anything works in this place, and you doubt Byleth's four pages of lesson plans are going to help.
    “If no one comes to your aid, maybe it is time you take matters into your own hands.” You flinch at the scornful sound in Edelgard’s voice. Judging the expression on her face, she seems just as surprised about her outburst. She gets up abruptly and bids farewell with a curt nod, followed closely by Hubert as always. Her classmates look after her, each more puzzled than the next.
    “Didn’t she seem … angry to you?” Linhardt thinks aloud, blinking into the empty space.
    Ferdinand harrumphes. “She’s always like this. Please excuse her, Herald.”
    You don’t think she’s done anything wrong, and yet she certainly doesn’t appear as always. Something about her last words strikes you as especially sharp; reproachful. Those weren’t meaningless words, but you don’t have any ways to decipher the message. A little voice tells you she isn’t wrong either. So far nothing has helped returning your memories—Manuela’s medicine, herbs from the Greenhouse, Hanneman’s spells. It seems like your brain has built defencive walls to repel any probing, which begs the answer to the question what is hiding in secret even more. But can you really do it on your own, like Edelgard suggests? It seems impossible.
    With newfound doubt you finish your meal, saying your goodbyes to the now scattering Eagle students as they scurry off to their next lesson. Two hours are left before you’re meeting with Byleth and the house leaders, and since you agreed to look over Linhardt’s notes, the library seems a good next stop. You still want to go over the seven classical manoeuvres of war, especially since the students didn’t really grasp the remaining two last time, and it gives you a good excuse to look over them again as well. At the beginning, you thought there was nothing you could teach those children, not with experienced colleagues at your side who have participated in countless battles themselves. Who could have thought that talking about tactics and strategies came as natural to you as breathing. Well, Rhea did for certain, and even the students drink up your every word like it is a message from the Goddess herself and you her chosen herald. The irony of it.
    But it isn’t only the students accepting your guidance. Something inside you changed in the last couple of weeks as well. When you started going through the books in the library, it was more stumbling and slipping on foreign terrain, but just in a couple of days, you moved through the matter like a fish following smoothly the currents of its native waters. It felt like home. Like building the foundation of a house from thousand variables, the result different each time but still the same: art. You build the art of battle, the last decision that will bring victory or death. You love every second of it. Which opens the possibility that it really isn’t your first time, but also more questions: Who taught you? What battles have you fought? How many of them did you win? Since those aren’t as simple to answer, you focus on fulfilling the first purpose, and hope that it will some day be enough for the students to survive battles.
    If only it would end there. Your second duty isn’t as easy or pleasant, and it lies in wait for you everywhere, stalking you like a dark shadow with monstrous fangs.
    “Herald.” A soldier gives a courteous bow, intercepting you in the Great Hall on your way to the library. “Pilgrims ask for you near the Entrance Hall. Please allow me to escort you.”
    Immediately, your nerves tingle with nervous anticipation. This is the scary part. Meeting the people, seeing the hope in their eyes. You’d gladly send them back where they’ve come from, but some have travelled for multiple days, and denying them audience would be cruel.
    “Don’t let me stop you from your duties,” you say, unconsciously tugging your clothes in order to appear presentable. “I will welcome them on my own.”
    The soldier nods and bows again, his expression barely readable under the helmet before he disappears as quickly as he came.
    Planning lessons is easy. You can find whatever you need in the library and work out the flow with the students. But nothing can prepare or teach you how to act like the Herald people wish for. Nowhere is anything written on the old Herald, how he talked to them and what promises he’d whispered when day broke. That is where you are on your own. Not even Rhea could answer that question. She only instructed that you see them, and remind them about their devotion to the Goddess—for she was the one who made it possible in the first place.
    The Entrance Hall is emptier than usual. Most of the students are in class, and a handful of knights and soldiers might be at the advanced training camp Jeralt and Alois hold in honour of the Blade Breaker’s return. So spotting the pilgrims isn’t difficult. Especially with the Gatekeeper waving his arms in wide arcs as if fearing you might overlook him.
    “Greetings, Herald!” His grin is blinding. “The pilgrims are waiting for you just at the at the foot of the stairs.”
    “Yeah,” you say. “I can see them.”
    “Oh, yes, of course! If anyone causes problems, count on me to help!”
    “Thanks.” You answer his thumbs up with one of your own before moving downstairs. What a refreshing young man. Certainly good looking under his helmet. Byleth seems to like talking to him a lot as well.
    Today’s pilgrims aren’t much different from other days. Old people are supported by their family members, who have brought baskets with sweets and flowers, presenting them at your feet.
    “Herald,” they breathe in awe, bowing. No matter how often you’ve seen it by now, it still feels incredibly wrong.
    “Raise your heads,” you tell them, helping an elderly woman up to hrer feet. She gasps at your touch, then clings to your hands. You try to swallow past the lump in your throat. “The Archbishop and I bid you welcome. The Goddess will smile upon your devotion.” Your cringe slightly when echoing Rhea’s words and wonder if any second the goddess might punish you by throwing lightning your way.
    “We are blessed to finally meet you,” a younger woman says, taking the old woman from your hands—mother and daughter maybe? “Please accept our gifts, and may the Goddess guide you on your path to light.”
    “She will answer your prayers and guide me so I can bring you peace,” you reply just so you can say something they might want to hear. Judging their delighted expressions this wasn’t the worst you could have said. Dorothea would probably be proud looking at your acting skills. Or point out your bad posture and how you’re avoiding their eyes. Dorothea would probably tell you how much you have to polish your acting skills.
    “Bring us peace?” someone from the last row spits, pushing to the front. “You know nothing, the Herald will bring chaos and ruin!” A man in his forties looms above you, an ugly, padded scar crossing his face from one temple to his chin. A war veteran? They way he holds himself looks like he’s been beaten up once too much to get up again.
    “You heathen, don’t you dare speak to our Herald like that,” the old woman barks, immediately doubling over in a coughing fit. Her daughter supports her, glaring at the man. “Go in peace, but go if you only came to talk ill about our Herald,” she says, clearly upset. "Doubting them is doubting our Goddess. How dare you."
    “First I want to see the Herald do something! What if … if this one is an impostor.” The man turns towards the others, throwing his arms in the air. “Bring forward proof that you are not here to ruin our lands, but to actually serve in the Goddess’ name!”
    This time his demand meets less resistance. Until now people were fine with seeing you and the Crest, but to want actual prove? You could easily threaten them and ask if they doubt the Goddess’ decision, but you’d rather leave that method to Rhea. You don’t want to sound like her. You don’t want to scare people. Yet admitting that you don’t really have a clue how to really use the Crest would surely support the man’s accusation. Diminishing the people’s trust in the Herald is the last thing you want, especially if it means facing Rhea’s scorn.
    “I—”
    “Herald!” A voice calls from the top of the stairs. When you turn around, Sylvain waves and jogs downstairs, looking like he’s been running for some time. “There you are. The Archbishop wants to see you.”
    Oh no, has she heard of your failure already? Giving the choice of facing a group of doubting people or Rhea, you’d immediately go to the people. You give him a curt nod, unable to speak because you don’t trust your voice.
    “I apologise,” you say to the pilgrims, clearing your throat when it comes out as a croak. “I will have something prepared for another time.”
    “No, you do not need to prove anything to us,” the elderly woman says. “We will always believe in you. Please tell Her Grace we are constantly praying to our Goddess and thank her for sending you to us.”
    “I will.” You squeeze her hand a last time. “Save travels.”
    The man still glares at you, but without a chance to keep you present any longer, he turns away and follows the rest. You can’t wait to leave all that behind, and as you steel your nerves for what’s waiting for you in the Audience Chambers, you look up to Sylvain and ask, “Did Lady Rhea say what it is about?”
    He looks over at you and blinks a couple of times, then seems to remember. “Ah ... yeah, about that. I lied.”
    You stop dead in your tracks. “You lied?”
    “Yup. I don’t know what Lady Rhea’s doing. But you looked like you were about to puke at those poor pilgrim’s shoes. As hilarious as that would have been, I wanted to spare you the embarrassment.” He stops now as well and smiles a boyish crooked grin. Sylvain knows exactly what to do with his face so girls fall over themselves to do him a favour, and boys grow jealous of all the attention he gets. Two weeks in, and you’ve figured out his game, keeping a respectable distance that wouldn’t birth the thought you’re avoiding him. In fact, this could be the very first time you’re actually holding a real conversation.
    “Well, I … thank you? But I had everything under control.”
    He looks like he doesn’t believe you. The gatekeeper you’re just passing looks like he doesn’t believe you. You press your lips into a thin line and dare any of them to disagree.
    “Okay.” Sylvain shrugs. “But now we’re here.”
    “Sylvain, what do you want?”
    “Cutting to the chase, huh?” He crosses his arms behind his head. “Why do you think I want something?” Your raised eyebrows seem to be answer enough. Sylvain laughs a little helplessly and returns his hands back to his front, raised as an offer of peace. “I promise, I want nothing. Just a little talking. A little talking hasn’t hurt anyone.”
    Something inside you wants to argue against it, but without a solid argument in hand, you follow him silently, wondering where his destination and intention lies. He belongs to the many students you can’t really read, nothing about his ambitions or goals. Sometimes he gives you this strange look through half lidded eyes, his gaze focused on your right eye—his interest in your Crest undeniable, and yet he’s been one of the few not to talk about it with you. It’s strange because whenever you come together, he looks like there’s something he’s dying to say. This time is no different.
    He leads you to the wooden pavilion in the gardens, but instead of offering you a seat, Sylvain leans his slim hips against the table, half sitting on it. Seteth would be furious seeing this.
    “How’s the Herald business doing for you?” he asks the one question you wouldn't expect from him. “Other than you having ‘everything under control.’” He has the audacity to air-quote. This isn’t a conversation you want to hold right now, leastwise with him. Sylvain must discern that you’re ready to bold from whatever your body is showing. With a quick step, he’s standing between you and the escape route, lazily leaning one arm against a column to uphold the illusion that you’re only having a pleasant talk when in reality his body stands between you and your freedom.
    “Do you talk to the other faculty members like that as well?” you say through gritted teeth, crossing your arms. Sylvain blinks like he doesn’t understand, but you’ve seen this act before, followed by an eerily precise repetition of a subject to one of his classmates when he thinks none of the teachers pay attention. Sylvain is playing dumb and deliberately hiding a sharp mind.
    “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend,” he quickly says, nothing about this crooked smile appearing apologetic whatsoever. “I’m generously curious. You’re holding up really good.”
    “In comparison to what?” you demand, your heartbeat picking up. Is he trying to call you out on something? That you aren’t heraldy enough? But to your surprise, Sylvain looks genuinely surprised by your reaction.
    “To nothing. In general?” He shrugs. “Back on the ceremony day, you didn’t look so good standing up there, and His Highness told us everything happened really uh … ‘suddenly.’’ More air-quotes, whatever they mean this time.
    “If you mean I wasn’t really asked to become the Herald, then yes.” Your arms drop back to your side. “It was suddenly.”
    Sylvain watches you for a moment, and again, there’s this look in his eyes; the need to say something he can’t. He kneads the back of his nape, avoiding your eyes. “All I’m trying to say is … having that Crest out of nothing is cool. Probably. And maybe terrifying? And just—”
    You grow impatient. “Come on, get the words out, Sylvain.”
    “A Crest isn’t just this nice letter of invitation to a privileged life. Just take care, is all I’m saying.”
    And there’s another page to the book of surprises with Sylvain’s name on it. The immediate lack of response catches him off guard; it’s like he only notices now that the vital part to understand this conversation is missing: The source of his doubt towards Crests.
    Sylvain’s body turns in a split second, his feet facing the direction he’s ready to bold towards, but this time you stand in his way and block him off. “Sylvain, are you okay?”
    He blinks in confusion, then furrows his eyebrows in deep thought like you demanded he recites the Ten Heroes from memory or else fails classes. His face contorts with the effort of looking fine. “Why, yes! Just peachy. Why would you think something is off?”
    “Because I have eyes in my skull.”
    “Very pretty eyes, if I dare say.” His answer comes out like a fire spell, hard and fast, seemingly more instinct than anything else. He clears his throat and scratches his chin, loosing momentum. “Goddess, I am bad at this.”
    “You are.” No need to sugar coat it. “If something happened, just say it.”
    “Nothing really happened, I just—” He exhales audibly and stares into space for a long minute, before side stepping you without difficulty. “Actually, I remembered Professor wanted to see me after class. Something about extra lessons about eh. Horse riding. Yeah. I’ll catch you later, Herald.” He winks and bolds away, darting under your outstretched arm before you can catch him. For someone this tall, he’s surprisingly agile and fast, already disappearing behind a tall hedge towards the main building.
    If that wasn’t the strangest conversation you’ve held with anyone, you don’t know what might excel that. Maybe it’s time you stop avoiding Sylvain.
    The Training Grounds smells of sweat and oil. Many students and knights train, which is surprising at this kind of hour, the short break between afternoon and evening classes. You’d like to know what they’re working on, but Byleth doesn’t tolerate inattention in a classroom or on the battle field, and demands you do push-ups each time your eyes wander somewhere off. You hate her a little for that. For whatever reason, Claude has taken on the role of your partner in crime, and does whatever necessary to make Byleth punish him as well.
    “What can I say, I like a good workout,” he said when you asked. He didn’t even try to hide his lie, looking as miserable as you felt. Probably hating Byleth a little as well.
    It’s the fourth week of private training with her and the house leaders, and so far you can definitely say that you were not meant to fight on the field. You see how your opponent moves, you can somehow predict what they’re going to do next—but your body simply protests to act accordingly. You stumble, you fall, you need a second too long to get up and before you can do anything, a training sword is at your throat. Byleth always looks like she wants to facepalm her fist through her forehead. Or yours.
    “Herald, this is not how you disarm someone,” she says, as always, and demonstrates it in one smooth, swift movement, as always. You blow hair out of your eyes, knowing you’re about to fail again. At least that gave Claude a reason to give you a new nickname, though if it’s better than the last is debatable.
    “You gotta twist your wrist, duckling!” he calls from the other side of the hall, immediately drawing Byleth’s attention to him. He and Dimitri are facing off, both wielding a spear which should give Dimitri the upper hand. So far, he hasn’t landed a single hit on Claude.
    “Keep your elbows in!” Byleth berates Claude. “Stop flapping them like some kind of chicken.”
    Claude lets out a disturbingly convincing cluck.
    You raise an eyebrow. “At least someone’s having fun.”
    Byleth sighs. “He’s going to get himself killed sooner than later.”
    “I don’t know. He’s managed so far, hasn’t he?”
    “I’m not sure if it’s a talent or a fault.” She turns back to you and nods her chin towards the side. “Take a break. I’m going to see how the boys are doing.”
    You nod, tensing all over because that’s where Edelgard is currently standing and picking out a training axe. You haven’t talked to her since lunch, and you can do without it for a couple more hours. She barely glances at you when you walk over, and instead checks out the edge of the wooden blade, turning it left and right.
    “Is she as strict in the classroom as in here?” you ask, unable to go on in awkward silence. Edelgard hums, throwing a quick glance towards Byleth from under her long, white lashes. “She’s systematic and consistent. Capable in both fields. I have no reason to raise any kind of complaint.”
    “That’s impressive.” You sure as heck still wouldn’t want her as a teacher. “Even though she’s been pushed into all this, she handles it like she’s never done anything else.”
    “I think as a mercenary, she is used to changing approaches depending on the employer.” Edelgard is still looking at Byleth. Reading her expression is impossible, and you don’t want to point out that sticking a sword into thieves and bandits is not the same as teaching kids how to fight in a battle. Her head whips to you suddenly, and she considers the training sword in your hand. “Speaking of different approaches,” she continues, “have you considered that your field of combat might be magic?”
    You have, so the answer comes immediately. “Chances are higher I set myself on fire.” You stare at her. “I didn’t mean it to rhyme.”
    Edelgard ignores your last comment. “But you haven’t really tried it out, have you?” Your lack of response is answer enough for her, and she nods like that proves a point.
    It’s complicated. You haven’t really tried it out because … the simple answer is, you’re afraid. It gets tricky once you try to search for the answer to that. There’s just a strange sensation when you try to use magic, like there’s a vast sea of possibilities and one step inside is enough to get you lost. It isn’t as bad with wind spells or white magic. You haven’t touched Fire spells because a crippling fear chills you to the bones every time you manage to nourish a small flame inside your palm—the complete opposite to Dark magic. When you tried a MiasmaΔ for the first time it felt strangely … secure. The rope tying you to a shore, it had felt like—
    There’s a loud crash when the spears collide and Claude knocks Dimitri off his feet. The whole room is silent as everyone watches how Claude taps the blunt end of his practice spear against Dimitri’s chin. “Steady on there, darling,” he says with a smug grin. Dimitri flushes bright red, and pushes with more force than necessary the spear away, quickly climbing to his feet.
    “That wasn’t bad.” Byleth quickly steps in before Dimitri can throttle Claude. “Dimitri, you rely too much on your brute strength. That’s a big disadvantage against someone like Claude. And you, young man,” she turns to Claude who’s been smiling victoriously, “are scheming too much and lose time to take action. In a serious battle, you won’t be as lucky as today.”
    “Noted.” Claude whirls his spear from left to right, almost dropping it when Dimitri drills his elbow into his side. “But in a serious battle, I won’t be upfront. I’ll be hanging back nicely, and skewing my enemies with a myriad of arrows.”
    “You can barely shoot three at the same time,” Dimitri grumbles, his cheeks still splotched with red specks.
    “You wanna bet—”
    “That’s enough, guys, save it for then next round.” Byleth ignores their sulky expressions and turns to you, raising a single eyebrow. The message is clear. What are you waiting for?
    Your feet feel like they’re glued to the ground. Edelgard doesn’t hesitate at all. “Let’s go.”
    She strides in the middle, training axe raised. It’s made out of wood, but you don’t doubt that she’s able to severe a limb from your body if she only tries hard enough—and what you know of Edelgard is that she alwaysexceeds even her own expectations. You grip your sword tighter. It’s a clear disadvantage, but better than anything else you can handle. Maybe it won’t be as bad.
    The fight lasts for about seven seconds. The moment you raise the blade, Edelgard is on you and unleashes fierce strike after strike, the power behind each hit forcing you back. She doesn’t bat an eyelash when she easily disarms you, the wooden sword flying over your heads and the edge of her axe on your throat. Somewhere behind her, you hear Byleth sigh. “Again.”
    The next hour is torture. Edelgard throws you to the ground, again and again. Byleth keeps telling you to get up, again and again. One might think they would cut you some slack, being the Herald and all, but it feels like Edelgard is so much more aggressive today because you’re the Herald. Or maybe it’s personal. Maybe she’s appointed you to be her sworn enemy, and won’t miss out any chance to make it as hard as possible for you.
    This isn’t fun. Being watched by Dimitri and Claude, who whisper conspiratorially to each other isn’t fun. Luckily, Byleth notices them gawking and bellows them to focus on working on their stances. Right now, you’re thankful nothing escapes her eyes and she calls her students out on their bullshit. It doesn’t make your current situation easier though. Every muscle burns, just raising the sword is exhausting and your feet feel like they’re about to give out any second. This must be hell.
    When Byleth finally ends lessons, you ignore everything and crumble to the ground, splaying your limbs out in all directions. Surely they can clean up without you, two hands less will barely make any difference.
    A shadow settles over you. You know who it is, and don’t bother to open your eyes. “Go away, Byleth. I don’t want to hear how bad I am.”
    “Personally, I think you have improved, Herald.” Your eyes snap open. Dimitri looks down at you, his forehead still glistening from perspiration. “But facing Edelgard as an opponent usually wields those results. Don’t let it bother you.”
    You want to point out that he and Claude don’t seem to have as much problems as you, even though yes, none of them have defeated her yet in practice. He goes down to your level and sits beside you, and you hate how this all barely made him breath hard, like it’s just a stroll around the monastery whereas you’re trying to climb the mountains surrounding it.
    “I think she hates me,” you blurt out. Luckily, most students have already left the hall, Edelgard included. Dimitri considers this a moment, and you don’t know what to make of his lack of immediate response.
    “I doubt she hates you,” he finally says.
    “But?”
    “But she has a hard time warming up to people. Give her time. Once the ice is broken, you will see that her personality is one you’d like to have around.”
    “Oh?” You watch him for a moment, but Dimitri doesn’t blush or look away. It was a heartfelt, sincere statement, which flusters you for some reason. No one should be that honest.
    “Talking about breaking ice. Do you know if something happened to Sylvain?”
    “Sylvain?” Dimitri raises both eyebrows. “Please don’t tell me he harassed you in some kind of way.”
    “No, no, he just—” You finally get up from lying on your back, and try to explain it by frantically moving your hands. Dimitri still looks puzzled. “He said some weird things about Crests in general?”
    “Hm.” Dimitri stares at your hands for a moment, then quickly raises his eyes back to your face. “It’s complicated.” Well, that answer is as good as none. “And I won’t go into details without his consent. I can only say that if he talked about Crests, in whichever way, his brother must have upset him again.”
    “He has a brother?” Now you’re wide awake. Many students have siblings. You know of Hilda’s brother and Raphael’s sister. It shouldn’t surprise you Sylvain has one as well even though he’s never mentioned it before.
    “Do you have siblings?” you ask, generously curious. As heir to a kingdom, it’s hard to imagine his parents would have settled with one child. But he hasn’t mentioned any sisters or brothers as well.
    “Hmm, I have a step-sister,” he says, although very hesitant and you can see if someone doesn’t want to talk about a specific topic. He doesn’t return the question, which is kind of him and makes you wonder … maybe you have a sibling as well. Somewhere. Maybe somewhere in Adrestia or Leicester a younger brother or an older sister is currently looking for you, unrelenting in their journey to be reunited at last. The thought alone brings a flicker of hope alive. Maybe they'll come once word of the Herald’s return travels far enough.
    “I guess as long as Sylvain doesn’t disturb classes or acts out of order, I would leave him to his brooding. I can tell out of experience, only Felix is capable of cheering him up.”
    “Felix?” Your eyebrows rise to your hairline. “Are we talking about the same Felix?”
    A smile forms on Dimitri’s mouth. “I understand why imagining that might prove difficult, but I assure you, Felix is one of the view exceeding in handling the mess Sylvain is from time to time.”
    “Felix and Ingrid?” you guess, earning a nod from Dimitri. “Ingrid is a very nice girl,” you continue, picking at a loose thread from your uniform. “But Felix seems detests me. Every time he sees me, he looks like he wants to throw his sword at me.”
    “That is—” Dimitri stops mid-sentence. “That might be not so far off from his true intentions.”
    You groan.
    “But I assure you it is for a different reason than you think. Felix is simply … difficult with people holding a commanding position.”
    “He doesn’t seem to have the same problem with Byleth,” you point out. No, whenever he trains with her, he manages something close to a smile and accepts her guidance. Then again, she isn’t his teacher.
    “I’m sure you’ll be able to make him consider his opinion on you during the Mock Battle. I as well am looking forward to how you will guide us.” Dimitri beams. You stare at him like he’s just lost his head.
    “What?”
    “The Mock Battle three nights from today?” Dimitri’s smile falters a little. “Have the Professor and Lady Rhea not told you yet? You are to participate in the Mock Battle as the commanding unit of the Blue Lions.” Now he’s pulling his eyebrows together in worry. “Herald?”
    “I—” You jump to your feet. “I have to go.” Go far far away. Just yesterday you introduced the students to the tactic called Feigned Withdrawal, which involves staging a retreat in order to induce the enemy to abandon its position and plunge ahead in an attack. Dimitri abandons his position, getting up to go after you, but instead of turning back to surprise him with an ambush, you flee the battle and hope the enemy doesn’t pursue.
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blackhakumen · 4 years
Text
Mini Fanfic #662: Drip Oscar (RWBY)
Oscar: Drip Coat.jpg
Oscar: Soooo.......What do you guys think?
Ruby: (・o・)
Blake: (●__●)
Yang: ⊙.☉ ⊙.☉ ⊙.☉ ⊙.☉ ⊙.☉ ⊙.☉ ⊙.☉
Weiss: Oscar..... darling......As a proud member of our wholesome Groupchat, I speak for everyone when I ask: What on Green Earth are you wearing?
Oscar: A Drip Coat. It's a coat that has been passed down from generations of how cool and powerful it's dripness level really is.
Oscar: At least that's what Sun and Neptune told me when we left out of the mall today.
Yang: DHFDXCBBXDHMGEBJFHCGNK
Oscar: Uhhhhhhh.....Yang? Is everything alright?
Blake: Don't mind me her. She's just laughing like a complete maniac right now.
Blake: Speaking of which, could you tell Sun and Neptune to join our chat? We have a few choices of words for them.
Oscar: Sure thing.
Blake: Thank you.
Sun Boi and The Great Neptune has Joined the Chat
Sun: Yo!
Neptune: What's happening, ladies?
Blake: Sun, why the hell did you and Neptune made Oscar wear that heavy coat for!?
Weiss: And what kind of stupid nonsense have you two dolts you been putting onto his head!?
Weiss: "Drip Coat" "Dripness Level"!? Explain yourselves right now!
Ruby: Yeah! Is this whole "Dripness" thing is real or......
Neptune: Well, to answer your question, Rubes, yes. Dripness is, in fact, very real.
Sun: And to answer everyone else's questions, we just wanted to see how it looks on the little guy. And maybe have him be a hit with the ladies.
Blake: Yeah? Well, we're ladies and we're more worried about his safety and well-being than being popular.
Weiss: And now we're worry about your influences on him too!
Oscar: Oh, come on, you guys. There's no need to be harsh on them. They're only trying to see how cool I can really be.
Ruby: But we think you're cool and amazing already, Oscar.
Oscar: Wait. Really?
Ruby: Yeah! You're the coolest farm boi we've ever known!~
Oscar: Wow.... Thanks, Ruby. I think all of you are cool and amazing too. In your own way, of course•‿•
Ruby: ( ꈍᴗꈍ)( ꈍᴗꈍ)( ꈍᴗꈍ)( ꈍᴗꈍ)( ꈍᴗꈍ)
Blake: You're too kind ( ꈍᴗꈍ)
Blake: Yang says thank you by the way.
Yang: Love you, farm boi!~ (。•̀ᴗ-)✧
Oscar: Love you too, Yang lol
Sun: See, kiddo? I told you would be a hit with the ladies eventually!
Blake: Sun!
Sun: What? I was only giving him some confidence boost here!
Neptune: Yeah! He definitely earns it in our book.
Oscar: Thanks for the support, guys.
Sun: No problem, bud! (◠‿・)—☆
Weiss: Okay. Compliments aside, you better hope and pray that your parents doesn't see that picture you sent us, young man.
Ruby: Yeaaaaaah.... About that......
Oscar: Oh God. You already sent it them, didn't you?
Ruby: Sorry!
Neptune: Wait. Who's Oscar's parents?
Ruby: Well.................
Vomit Boy, Thunder Thighs, and Master Chief Ren has Joined the Chat
Ren: Oscar, what on heavenly Earth are you wearing?
Jaune: Better question is why are you wearing it in the first place? It's Freaking Hot in Vauco remember!?
Nora: I hope you're not planning on buy it and wearing it around town, young man. The heatwave could easily get you dehydrated and passed out on the streets if you're not careful!
Oscar: Nora, how did you know all of that?
Nora: A mother's love for her babies knows no bounds, sweetie. Plus, I just looked it up on the internet.
Sun: Time-Out! Oscar, you're telling me that Nora's your mom!!???
Oscar: She might as well be......
Nora: Uh correction! I am a mother who loves you very much, Oscar Everlynn Pine!
Oscar: Whatever you say, mom......
Oscar: .....Also I love you too.
Nora: ( ꈍᴗꈍ)( ꈍᴗꈍ)( ꈍᴗꈍ)
Neptune: Awwwwwwww~
Nora: Sun. Neptune.
Neptune: Uhhhhhh......
Sun: I'm.....guessing by bold fonts of our names that she's.... not too happy with us, is she?
Jaune: Yep.
Ren: Pretty much.
Nora: Are you two being bad influences on my son right now?
Sun: What!? No way! We're totally being good influences here!
Neptune: Yeah! We were only teaching him how be cool and the essence of "Dripness" and all it's glory.
Ren: Drip....Ness?
Weiss: It's this stupid nonsense they're teaching to Oscar.
Neptune: DO NOT DISRESPECT THE ESSENCE OF THE DRIPNESS, SCHNEE!!
Weiss: Neptune Vasilias.....Was that text message implying that you are yelling at me right now?
Weiss: Do Not Test Me.....jpg
Neptune: No ma'am...... I'm sorry......
Sun: Lmao! You are not having the best of luck right now, are ya, bud?
Neptune: Shut up, Sun.
Sun: But as I was saying, you guys have nothing to worry about here. He's already in good hands.
Oscar: Sun's right. They're actually pretty fun to hangout with.
Oscar: Not to say that you guys aren't fun either!! I love being around all of you!!
Nora: We know you do, sweetie lol. We're just so happy you're having yourself a good time.
Oscar: Thanks, mom.
Nora: ( ꈍᴗꈍ)( ꈍᴗꈍ)( ꈍᴗꈍ)( ꈍᴗꈍ)( ꈍᴗꈍ)
Jaune: Yeah. No. Sorry, fellas, but I don't think I see you two as good influences on Oscar.
Sun: Ah what!?
Oscar: Jaune, what are you talking about?
Jaune: I'm just saying. Making you wear heavy coat in a city filled with heat, teaching you nonsense like Weiss said.....I personally don't think that being a good influence to me. Not at all.
Oscar: ......You know, this might be a huge hunch here, but are you saying all of this is because you're jealous of Sun and Neptune?
Sun: Wait. For real?
Neptune: Is that true, Jauney-Boy?
Jaune: NO! Of course not!
Jaune: That's crazy!
Jaune: I mean, really, Oscar. Why would I, the Fearless Leader, would be jealous over two of the most popular guys on Beacon!?
Jaune: Like, they're soooo popular that girls kept falling over heels for them almost everyday in class!
Jaune: I mean, seriously! That's soooo ridiculous on paper that I'm almost close to laughing.
Ruby: Jaune?
Jaune: Yes, Ruby?
Ruby' You just sent five separate messages in the chat. I think that kinda proven Oscar's point here.
Oscar: It does.
Jaune: .......It was a.........typo?
Ruby: I don't think so.
Oscar: It clearly isn't.
Jaune: Don't sass me, mister.
Sun: Holy crap. You really are jealous of us lol!
Jaune: NO I'M NOT!! I just.... Speaking my mind is all.
Neptune: Oh Jaune, my banana hair friend. There's no need to deny it. I mean, it's not everyday that someone like you, is jealous of our coolness.
Jaune: ಠ︵ಠ
Nora: Are you implying that our Jaune-Jaune is not cool!?
Neptune: No. Not at all. All I'm saying is that maybe....juuuuust maybe, he might not be at the same level as Sun and I when it comes to our overall coolness factor.
Ren: Apologies, Neptune, but haven't I heard you gotten yourself rejected and struck out by almost every ladies you came across in Vauco? And on your first day arriving here nonetheless. If so, then I really wouldn't be talking about your level of "coolness factor" in front our Fearless Leader if I were you. Just saying.
Ruby: \(◎o◎)/\(◎o◎)/\(◎o◎)/
Oscar: (●__●)
Jaune: (‘◉⌓◉’)(‘◉⌓◉’)(‘◉⌓◉’)
Sun: ........Jesus...........
Blake: D-Did....Ren just.....
Weiss: Roasted Neptune? Yes. I believe he did.
Blake: Well, Yang went back to laughing again. So it must be effective.
Weiss: Possible.
Nora: Ren, have Jaune and I ever tell you how much we love you as of late?
Ren: You told me you love me this morning.
Nora: Oh..... Right.....Well......
Nora: WE LOVE YOU!!!~
Ren: I love you guys too, Nora. Very much.
Ren: But anyways, what are you gonna say about that, Neptune?
The Great Neptune Left Chat.
Weiss: Neptune?
Blake: Where did he go?
Sun: Don't worry, you guys. Neptune's fine. He just lowered his head on the table and sulking. I think he's crying too.
Sun: A Broken Neptune.jpg
Blake: Huh. He really does look broken.
Sun: Right!? I mean, Jesus Christ, Ren! Since when did you became a savage?
Ren: I have my ways. Just know that I'm not same as I used to be. Not mostly at least.
Sun: An almost changed man. I respect that!
Ren: Thank you.
Oscar: Oooooookay. Seeing that this Groupchat is going haywire already, I just wanted to let you guys know that we are outside at the Noodle Shop getting ourselves something to eat and will be coming back home in shortly....After we cheer up Neptune.
Oscar: And before anyone, no, we didn't buy the drip coat. They only wanted to see how it looks on me. So you don't have to worry if I'm planning on buying it or wearing it outside.
Ruby: Well, I'm glad you didn't get the coat. I don't want you to pass out on the streets.
Weiss: Neither does any of us. We love you too much to see you getting yourself hurt again.
Oscar: I know. I love you guys too. And don't worry, I'll be extra careful from here on. And Ruby, I'll bring you cookies once I get back.
Ruby: Really!?
Oscar: Yeah. To cheer you up and stuff.
Ruby: Awwwwwww Oscar!~ Thank you!~ You being here makes me happy already!~ (◠‿・)—☆
Oscar: Aw I'm flattered~ ( ꈍᴗꈍ)
Nora: I'm expecting a big hug outta you once I see you back home, mister!
Oscar: Well do, ma'am. See you guys in a few.
@keyenuta
@albion-93
@miki-13
@maripr
@ma-lemons
@toriwest
@rozanime
@littlemisssquiggles
@oscarpineprotectionsquad
@mcmystery
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snowdice · 4 years
Text
Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 60]
I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.
My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27
Okay. Not sure how long I’ll go today, but let’s work on this for a bit. Just gotta finish this side quest and then we can get back to the plot. ;)
Chapter 28
Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.
He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.
There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.
Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.
 That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.
Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.
 Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”
She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.
“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.
“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.
 “And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”
Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.
“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.
“I see,” Thomas replied.
“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”
Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.
“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”
 “Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”
“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.
“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.
 “Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.
“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”
“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.
“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”
“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.
Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’
 “We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”
“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.
Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”
“I have my ways.”
Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”
“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”
“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.
 Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.
Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.
“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.
Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”
“Why not?”
“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”
 “Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.
“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”
“How did you meet?” Helen asked.
“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.
43410
“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”
Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”
“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”
Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.
  Chapter 29
Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.
 “Finished?” Logan asked.
“Yeah,” Virgil said.
“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”
“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”
“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.
“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.
Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.
“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.
 “You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.
Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”
Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”
“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.
“…In Sanskrit.”
Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”
“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”
 “That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”
“It would be in the library,” Logan said.
“Okay.”
“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”
Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”
Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”
“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”
“Are you certain?” he asked.
Virgil nodded, decisively.
“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”
Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.
 Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”
The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.
“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).
 “I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.
Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.
 Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.
“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.
“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.
“You can read that?” Virgil asked.
“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”
“Wow, you’re really smart.”
“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.
 “Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.
He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.
“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”
 Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.
 He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.
He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.
 It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.
Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.
He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.
 Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.
“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.
“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.
“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”
Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.
Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.
 Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.
Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.
“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.
“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.
“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”
Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”
Patton giggled.
Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”
“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”
“Lunch?” Virgil asked.
Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”
“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.
“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.
Logan just rolled his eyes.
  Chapter 30
After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.
Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.
 Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.
A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.
Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.
“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.
 “Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”
“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.
Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”
“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”
“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”
Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.
“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.
 “Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.
“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”
 “Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”
Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”
“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.
“The same for me,” Logan said.
“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”
 “Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.
“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”
“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”
“Seedlings?” he asked.
“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”
 “Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”
“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”
Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.
Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.
“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.
 “Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.
He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.
“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.
 Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.
“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.
Logan hummed.
“I’m glad we kept him.”
“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”
Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”
Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.
 “I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”
Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.
“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.
 Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.
“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”
“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”
Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”
 “Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.
Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.
He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.
 He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.
  Chapter 31
Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.
“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.
 “Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”
“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.
“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”
The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.
 Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.
Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”
“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?
“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”
“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”
 “How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.
“Do not name it,” Logan said.
“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”
Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.
Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”
“Those are fine,” Virgil said.
“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”
“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.
 “Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”
“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”
“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.
“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”
“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.
“Alfredo?”
Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.
“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”
“Cat,” Logan said.
“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.
Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”
“Catphrodite!”
Logan glared at him. “Helena.”
“Helenpaw.”
“Claudia.”
“Clawdia.”
“Persephone.”
Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.
“…Damnit!”
Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”
“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.
 Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.
Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”
 It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.
The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.
 Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.
The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.
 He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.
“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.
“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.
“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.
 “I love you too!” Patton said.
Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.
Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.
 “You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”
Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”
Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”
“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.
He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”
“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”
Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”
“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.
  Chapter 32
“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.
“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”
“No,” Helen said. “Why.”
“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.
“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.
“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”
 “He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”
“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’
“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.
 “I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”
Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.
“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.
 Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.
Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.
 The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.
“Virgil?” she asked.
“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.
“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”
He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.
Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”
He shook his head.
“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.
 “No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”
“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.
“Yep,” he said.
“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.
“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.
 “How did you find this?” she asked.
“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”
 She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”
He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”
“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”
“Oh,” he said.
“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”
Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”
“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”
 “Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.
“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”
Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.
Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”
“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.
“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.
  Chapter 33
Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.
“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.
“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.
“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.
“No,” Logan said.
 “Yes, she is!” Patton said.
“The stupid cat is not a princess.”
“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”
“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”
While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.
“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.
“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.
 “Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.
“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”
 “Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.
“You found what?” Logan asked.
“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.
 “A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.
“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”
“Really? Can you show me.”
“Sure,” Virgil answered.
“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.
Logan’s frown edged on a pout.
“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”
“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.
 “No, Logan.”
He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.
 Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”
“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.
Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.
Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.
 Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”
“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”
Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”
Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.
“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.
 Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.
“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.
 “Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.
She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.
“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”
50234
Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.
Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”
“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.
Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.
“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.
  Chapter 34
Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.
 Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.
“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.
 “Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”
“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”
Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”
 “Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.
“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.
Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.
 “Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”
It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.
“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.
 Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)
She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.
Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.
 Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.
“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”
“How do you know?” Virgil asked.
“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”
19 notes · View notes
lucas-koh · 4 years
Text
Stitches - Bryce Lahela x MC X
Parts 1-9 linked in bio
Not entirely canon compliant but elements of canon - FWB.
Song: Electric Love - BØRNS
Rating: M, implied sex, sexual language, swearing
Word Count: 3677
Taglist: @lahellacute @lahamseiroshoe @anotherbeingsworld @fuseboxmusebox @choicesficwriterscreations @bubblelaureno @bratzlahela @eleanorbloom @bryceslahela @thegreentwin @kelseaaa || please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from this list
Chapter Ten: New Year, Same Situation
It turned out, in a blessing to Suki’s guilt, that Bryce had picked up extra shifts on Christmas. He didn’t seem fussed about it, so she guessed he just wasn’t the Christmas type. She’d caved and texted him back asking about his plans, and he’d told her. Apparently it brought a lot of the patients joy to have ‘such an incredibly handsome surgeon helping out’ (his words). There was still that regret that she hadn’t offered, though. And also a small part of her that just wishes he’d been there for the sake of being there.
She couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. Every aspect was jumbling about in her brain like the numbers in a lottery machine. The way he’d held her in all her layers against his bare skin, the steady, savouring movements of their lips against one another. The familiar yet brand new sensation, each nerve wired with the electricity spreading between them. It was intense. She was waiting for her number to be called to find out if she’d won: but what was the prize? Bryce..? She already knew him. But… more kisses? Honestly, thinking about it was giving her a headache.
The look on Bryce’s face. Narcotised, dumbfounded. She couldn’t stop seeing that face in her head, and every time she did her heart stopped and she wanted to kiss him like that again just to see it.
She wondered if Bryce had felt the same way about it, or if it had been only her. Because yeah, it had been a good kiss, he’d said as such afterwards. But had it been as earth-shattering for him as it had been for her? Had he felt that nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach and the ringing in his ears and the thrum of his heart? Was he thinking fuck the whole time? Or unable to think of anything beside her lips?
And it felt like now there was something pulling them together, she wanted him there any time she had a bad day to cradle her in his big arms and reassure her, she wanted him there to kiss her until she could barely speak or do anything else.
On Boxing Day, Elijah and Suki were serving themselves leftovers while Jackie sat on the sofa groaning through her fifth mimosa. Suki was wearing Bryce’s reindeer hoodie, because her own Christmas jumpers were ugly and tasteless, she told herself. Of course, no one else knew it was Bryce’s. Unless they knew his scent as well as she did. Suki didn’t even realise she was smiling until Elijah spoke.
“I’m glad you’re doing better,” Elijah smiled.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh- I mean, nothing. You just seem less stressed.”
Suki squinted her eyes. That wasn’t it. “Spill.”
“God, fine. I’m terrible at keeping things. Back in September, that night we watched movies? I talked to Bryce earlier that day and he told me to keep an eye on you, that you might’ve been needing a little extra love.”
So that was why Elijah was being like that. Bless him.
“That little-“
“He didn’t want you to think he was being weird and overbearing! That’s why he asked me. He barely knew us back then.”
Well, not exactly true. By that point we’d kissed in a supply closet.
“Did he say anything else?” Suki asked, suddenly worried about Bryce sharing their little secret. Then again, it had been months, and Elijah was terrible at keeping things. He wouldn’t have been able to go so long unnoticed. Suki had noticed his concerned looks at her, she just hadn’t known the meaning behind them.
“Um. No? I don’t remember.”
Well, it couldn’t have been that Bryce had told him, then.
“Okay.”
“But he was right. I don’t know how he noticed, but you were a little off for a time.” Elijah placed down the clippers he’d been using to serve himself some roast potatoes.
I mean, he noticed because he found me crying in the supply closet but we’ll leave that bit out.
“Yeah. Being a doctor is hard.”
“You got that right.”
—-
When New Year rolled around, all the roommates had returned to the apartment and were discussing their NYE plans.
“I don’t want to throw another party. Not after the last one.”
“It was fine! Farley didn’t even find out.”
“It got out of hand and it was stressful, can’t someone else throw a party?”
“Or we could go to Donahue’s…” Jackie suggested.
“No,” the others chorused.
“Fine, fine.”
“Donahue‘s is great but I’m not ringing in the new year there.”
“We spent Halloween there.”
“That’s different.”
“Is anyone working?”
Suki’s head was starting to hurt from the questions and overlap of voices. She wasn’t even fussed about having a big New Year celebration, she just wanted to be with her friends.
“Let’s just spend the new year by ourselves,” Suki breathed out after a while.
Jackie shrugged, seeming okay with the idea.
“But… what about our other friends?” Asked Elijah.
“Like who?” Said Aurora, “we don’t have other friends.”
“Not true! There’s that sweet paramedic Rafael who talks to me when he’s bringing patients in,”
“Sienna I don’t think that’s-”
“And I made friends with one of my patients, she’s called Kyra.” Elijah added.
“Have you all forgotten about Bryce? He’s annoying as fuck but he’s technically part of the group.”
“Gia from across the hall! She’s so lovely.”
“Gia has a kid, she won’t come.”
“What about that Landry kid who came to Donahue’s with us?”
“No. No.” Jackie made a gagging motion.
“It’s sounding like you guys want a party. Does anyone actually want a party?” Aurora asked.
The rest of them groaned uneasily. No one wanted a party.
“Fine, how about everyone has a plus one. Sienna, that way you can invite Rafael, Elijah can invite Kyra, Jackie can invite Bryce...” Aurora said calmly.
“Ew,” Jackie retorted.
“I kind of wanted to invite Danny…” Sienna trailed off.
“He can be my plus one,” Aurora offered.
“I’m not having Bryce as my plus one,” Jackie made a face of disgust.
“It’s not like having a plus one means anything. They’re not going to be handcuffed to you or something weird,” Aurora said.
“I don’t care. Suki can have him.”
“Why me?” She realised the rush and speed of her reply may have not been the most natural thing.
“Did you have any other options?”
“…no.”
“Sorted. I’ll invite that nice girl from down the hall as my plus one.”
“Huh?”
“Phoebe. The one you have a crush on,” Jackie directed her gaze to Elijah.
“…what??” Elijah looked completely taken aback. His mouth was agape and his eyes were wide.
So the group got to refining their plans, including the type of alcohol they’d buy, any decorations, timings, entertainment.
—-
For the first time, Suki was nervous about texting Bryce. After their kiss, she didn’t want to make things weird. Plus, he’d never replied to her when she’d asked him about New Years the week before.
Santa Fe: you free on ny?
Scalpel Jockey: depends why you’re asking
Santa Fe: we’re doing some kind of gathering at the apartment
Santa Fe: the others wanted you here
Scalpel Jockey: the others but not you? ouch
Santa Fe: 🙄you know what I meant
Santa Fe: are you free or not?
Scalpel Jockey: sure i’ll be there
—-
Everyone worked most of the time in the couple of days leading up to their get-together, so anything that was done in preparation was done in short bursts. On the 30th, Bryce texted again.
Scalpel Jockey: what’s this about handcuffs?😏
Santa Fe: what???
Scalpel Jockey: jackie said something about handcuffs and i for one am not complaining
Scalpel Jockey: i bumped into her at the hospital earlier and she was complaining to me about myself
Huh, must’ve been what Aurora had said about the plus ones not meaning anything. Of course his ears only perked up when it could be interpreted as kinky.
Santa Fe: there’s no handcuffs
Scalpel Jockey: after that christmas lingerie? colour me doubtful
Santa Fe: correction, *there’s no handcuffs for you at a new years celebration while everyone else is around
Scalpel Jockey: i’ll take it😏
—-
Then in no time it was 6:00pm on the 31st and everyone was getting ready for the others to turn up.
Suki was wearing a sparkly black jumpsuit with sheer sleeves and gold eyeshadow on her eyes. It felt the right palette for the occasion. The others were also dressed to the nines and they laughed and hung out until the first guest arrived.
Suki began to get nervous waiting for Bryce to arrive. God, what’s going on here? I thought we were over this?
Each new arrival sent a jolt through Suki’s stomach and she held her breath for a moment. And then there was a mix of relief and disappointment each time it wasn’t him.
When he finally swaggered through the door holding two bottles of red wine, cheering with his usual cockiness, she hung back while the others greeted him. He was dressed up, and lord did he look good.
Blue slacks, blue jacket, floral light blue shirt. Right down to the shiny black shoes. Suddenly Suki couldn’t stop looking at how those clothes fit him, suited him so well. Shit. And then how they would look on her bedroom floor.
“Suki,” he finally breathed out his greeting after saying hello to everyone else.
“Hi,” she gave him a nod and a smile which came out higher pitched than she’d intended and already knew her face was heating up.
Calm. The. Fuck. Down. It was just a kiss. We do it all the time.
Bryce moved closer as though about to say something else, when Jackie slapped a hand on his back and led him to the kitchen.
“We need to get that wine in a glass…”
The new year squad drank and discussed for a while before eventually Sienna started off the games for the evening.
“We’re going to play charades!” Sienna enthused.
“I call dibs on Suki,” Bryce said almost immediately.
“You don’t even know if I’m any good.”
“Oh, I know you’re good,” he winked. She rolled her eyes playfully, and the rest of the group paired up: Elijah and Phoebe, Sienna and Danny, Jackie and Raf, Aurora and Kyra.
Bryce and Suki got off to a Rocky start. The card she picked was an obscure one. She was standing, moving a fist in circles beside her mouth.
“Uhhh washing your face? Applying mascara? Smelling flowers? …whiskers? I- um, churning… butter? Conducting! No? Um…”
Suki was violently shaking her head at each ridiculous guess. She scowled and controlled her hand a little, opening her mouth like a fish.
“Oh! Eating!”
She nodded and grinned, waiting for him to get the rest.
“Oatmeal? Cereal? Ice cream? Oh! SOUP!?”
“Yes!” She jumped up finally and the two high-fived.
Elijah and Phoebe were surprisingly good, Sienna and Danny pretty terrible because they couldn’t stop laughing, and both Team Aurora and Team Jackie’s competitive sides were coming out. Most of the charades were funny, but Kyra’s were hilarious.
After a few rounds everyone was cutting it close aside from Sienna and Danny. It was Bryce’s turn.
He was mimicking riding a bike, which was hilarious. He had one foot to the ground and was circling the other one while he held his hands out in front of him. What a dork. But Suki guessed it quickly enough, pulling them ahead in points.
They reached the bottom of the pile of cards, Bryce and Suki winning by one point.
“We make quite the pair, don’t we Sukes?” He grinned, nudging her with his shoulder.
“I- are you-“
“You think I didn’t notice that little nickname you gave me? You can’t hog all the fun.”
Ah. So he hadn’t missed it then.
—-
As the night continued on they played a few board games (Monopoly, Scrabble), before an interesting game of Twister.
Suki somehow ended up in an odd human pretzel with Rafael, Sienna, and not at all to her surprise, Bryce. The universe had an agenda, alright.
“No don’t put your hand on that one I’ll fall over!” Sienna shouted at Raf. But it was too late and they fell into a big pile in the middle of the sheet. Somehow Jackie remained composed to the side of them.
“I won!”
“Can you help?” Struggled Suki, who was stuck at the bottom of the pile. The other half of the group worked to help each person off the pile. Bryce was winking down at her, their faces close and his body fitting into every part of hers. For fucks sake. She was trying super hard not to think about kissing the shit out of those lips right now.
To her relief, but also disappointment - which seemed to be much of a theme that night - Phoebe and Danny helped to pull Bryce up and she was left freed.
And then Kyra insisted on a game of Truth or Dare.
“Aren’t we a bit old for that?” Aurora asked.
“You’re never told old for fun!” Kyra replied, “I want to get to know you guys better.”
Phoebe had to kiss the person she fancied the most, which brought on many cheers and whoops when it turned out to be Elijah (definitely a leading question on Kyra’s part). The two couldn’t stop smiling at each other after that. Elijah told everyone about his biggest fantasy, Aurora showed off her hidden talent (burping the ABC’s), Danny read out his most recent text (an ‘I love you’ to his dad), Sienna was dared to take a mystery shot of Jackie’s creation – which looked like included pickle juice and Tabasco sauce. Rafael talked about his worst date, and Kyra had to give the person to her right a foot massage – which was Jackie. She didn’t seem to mind much.
Bryce picked dare, of course.
“I dare you to give everyone in the circle a lap dance!” Rafael said.
“You just want one, don’t you?” Bryce winked to the other man, who laughed and shrugged. Jackie looked horrified at the idea, and Elijah started to play Pony – Ginuwine through the speakers. So Bryce got about moving to the music like he was in Magic Mike. Slowly, each item of clothing was lost. Until he was left in only his boxers. Incredibly cringey, but also… pretty hot. He went around the circle, giving each person their own little performance. Danny pretended to fling dollar bills at him. Jackie made a lot of gagging noises and screeches.
When he at last got to Suki, she was nervous. He gave her that look she could read right through, and began to grind his ass just above her lap. When he turned to face her and began to wind his body above her, she knew she was visibly flustered. And so did he. Not to mention, he knew what she liked.
He grabbed her chin and brought it towards his sensually as he mockingly sang along with the song. This was such a game for him, and she was an unwitting pawn.
“You’re… not supposed to touch me,” she tried to laugh it out, but it was awkward and meek. He removed his hand with a flourish and an insolent shoulder shrug.
She was so alarmed, but eventually began to screech laughter. By that point everyone was in fits. It was almost impossible to take a lap dance seriously, and definitely impossible to take a lap dance from Bryce seriously.
“Okay, I think that concludes that,” Raf laughed. Bryce shot Suki a signature wink before pushing himself up to standing. He finished off his dance with a rather impressive body roll-into-worm movement. He then began to re-clothe himself.
After cooling down a bit, Suki chose truth, always the safer option. Or so she thought.
“Ok then. When did you last get laid?” Phoebe asked. Jump right to it, why don’t you?
Easy to lie, of course. But her expression and squirming was a dead giveaway that she was nervous to answer the question. And Suki was a terrible liar.
“The day before Christmas Eve,” she choked out, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Bryce because she could already tell the expression he had at that moment. Smug. Smug as shit. There’s no way he’s not thinking about the Christmas themed lingerie if nothing else.
“What? Who?” Jackie asked, not sly about the way her eyes fell on Suki’s neck again.
“Random tinder guy. It was nothing.”
From the corner of her eye Suki thought she could see Bryce’s face crinkle momentarily, but he was normal when she fully looked at him.
They played a couple more rounds, Suki was sure to pick dare that time (try to lick your elbow, thanks Sienna).
When the group took a little break Suki escaped and grabbed some more drinks from her bedroom, only to go to return and find Bryce leaning on her doorway. Draped on the frame like the prettiest chandelier in the vintage furniture store. Because vintage had character, beauty, stories, secrets. Looking ever so casual in his shirt, rolled up to his elbows, and slacks. His jacket was long discarded. Okay, this is the first time we’ll really have spoken since the kiss.
“Hey,” he said, as though they hadn’t spoken before that evening. Which, she supposed, they hadn’t. Not as ‘Bryce and Suki’.
Was he thinking about that kiss too? Was he consumed by the desire to rush over and kiss her slowly, every moment as much bliss as it was torture as though the moment were crafted as deliberately Dionysian? Hard to tell.
“Hey, what are you doing?” She was holding two bottles of sparkling wine in each hand, ready to have taken them out to the others. Unfortunately that meant she couldn’t expel nervous energy through drumming her fingers on her thighs.
“Just checking up on you. Making sure you’re not causing any trouble.”
“Riiiight.”
“Um,” he was flustered, something Suki never believed she would see in a million years. He scratched at the back of his head. “So tonight… after… are we- am I staying?”
“Ah, I see. This is a preemptive booty call.”
“No, well- I-“
Suki laughed, it was so odd to see him like this. Also odd that his first reaction to ‘is this a booty call’ was ‘no’?? What the hell has him so creepily bashful?
“Of course you can stay if you want. You don’t even have to leave early I’ll just throw you out on the couch and blame it on the alcohol.” As soon as the words left her mouth Suki regretted them. She’d pretty explicitly just invited him to stay the night. Like, the actual night. Rule number fucking two Suki. No. Staying. The. Night.
Not a matter of convenience, not a courtesy as thanks, just… because.
That mischievous part of her didn’t want to correct herself, or make it clear that he couldn’t stay. She wanted him to want to stay.
Fuck.
But she couldn’t listen to that little voice. She couldn’t. She knew she’d only screw herself over.
“You know what I mean, right? Like, after sex I’ll send you to the sofa…”
“Yeah. Sweet. Cool. Nice.”
Oh my god. What is going on? Why is he acting so weird? Is it the alcohol?
Suki was feeling clammy and stressed and she knew she had to change the subject.
“So, why didn’t you tell me the other day what your New Years plans were?”
“What do you mean?”
“When I came to yours…” now it was Suki’s turn to feel flustered, kiss brain alert kiss brain alert “I asked you about New Years and you ignored it.”
“Oh? I don’t know. I can’t remember,” he grinned and normal Bryce was back. “Come on, pass me a bottle and let’s get this night cracking on.”
And so they did, more laughing and dancing and games and talking. At one point, Bryce was dancing in a mockingly seductive way with Phoebe and Elijah, prompting Sienna to sidle up to Suki.
“So that lap dance Bryce did… did you notice he spent waaay longer on you than anyone else?”
“I think he just knew I’m easily embarrassed. It’s difficult to hide.”
“I don’t know Suki, I think he might fancy you,” she whispered, excitement and scandal in her voice and on her face.
How do I tell Sienna it’s just because we’re sleeping together without telling Sienna we’re sleeping together?
“Incredibly doubtful. He just wanted a rise out of me.”
When it reached around 11:45pm, the group lounged around on the couches to watch the ball drop in New York on the TV.
The obvious couples of the evening – Sienna and Danny; Elijah and Phoebe – were antsy and sat beside each other, waiting for their midnight kiss.
“I’m going to kiss each and every one of you,” Kyra grinned.
And Suki was in an awkward positing sat beside Bryce and wondering if she should kiss into the new year with him. It was only tradition, right? But felt important information to know.
Which she absolutely didn’t know.
But they couldn’t, they were surrounded by people.
As the countdown began, Suki’s tension rose. He wouldn’t kiss her, would he? Not here, not now.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Everyone shouted at once when the clock hit zero and the ball dropped in Times Square. Bryce reached over to give Suki’s hand a quick squeeze, but no kiss.
Instead, Kyra gave Suki a prolonged ‘mwah!’, and she had to sit watching Danny and Sienna, and Elijah and Phoebe getting into it. At least everyone else was single. The singles all stood to hug each other, a few kisses too, celebrating a whole new calendar year.
Suki bitterly wished that Bryce had kissed her. And she was mentally kicking herself for it. But, when he embraced her he whispered:
“We’ll ring the new year in properly later.”
41 notes · View notes
misterewrites · 4 years
Text
I get by with a little help from my friends (and Link)
Hey everyone! E here with a random story popped into my head! I needed to write this for practice for another project but I still had a lot of fun with it. So this story takes place in the wild timeline between Age of Calamity and breath of the wild. Like that weird middle ground where the champions were getting ready. Upfront I did as much research as I could cuz it has been a while since I played BOTW and I did use a wiki with some references to the game and such, avoided spoilers I think and I did kinda go with my own conclusion in some places for the sake of story cuz the wiki only knows so much and I can't replay the entire game again. Well I can but not in a short time for this story. Also some Light Zelda and link cuz they’re cute and if nintendo wont canon them, I will! 
So I hope you enjoy! have fun, stay safe, wear a mask and wash your hands! E is out! have a great week everyone! If you want to leave me comments or just have an easier time reading this story, it has been uploaded to Ao3. My user name is MrE42
“He’s still there, isn’t he?”
Impa shrugged, unsure what the princess was expecting her to say “You know he is.”
Zelda huffed, irritated at her father’s watchdog who silently kept watch just outside, stoic and stalwart in his duty to an annoying degree.
Zelda, princess of Hyrule and aspiring scholar, trained from birth to be poised and refined in the harshest situations, made a face towards the library door.
“I do not need a babysitter.” Zelda fumed as she filmed through the bookshelves “You are here Impa and far more suited to the task than my father’s knights.”
“Your knights” Impa corrected “And normally I would agree but with Yiga clan beginning to cause more and more trouble, you and the kingdom need my Sheikah to prevent their tricks. I am their leader and I have to lead. Same as you princess.”
“I know” Zelda replied, unable to keep out the frustration out of her voice “But I wish my father chose a...different person”
Impa rolled her eyes “We both know that Link is the most capable solider in the kingdom. He is without equal and you are only mad at him because your father chose him.”
“I am not a child Impa.”
“No but you are the magical princess whose power would help keep the calamity at bay. I can’t fathom why your father would want you protected at all times.”
Zelda glared openly at her best friend “Your sarcasm is noted and ignored.”
“Excellent” Impa beamed “But in all seriousness, these are dangerous princess. Your father caused quite a ruckus choosing a country bumpkin instead of the nobles lovely, incompetent children.”
Zelda shifted guiltily at the mention of the nobility. They were not pleased that the king of Hyrule had decided to entrust the safety of his only heir and future ruler of their kingdom to a nobody from Hateno Village. It did not matter that Link had come from a long line of knights whom had been protecting the land for almost as long as Zelda’s family had been ruling it. Nor did it matter that he was their most fierce and well trained warrior. He was not of nobility and it angered her that someone who simply wanted to do their best was being mistreated.
Even if she was guilty of the same crime.
“I just wish he appeared more human.” Zelda quietly admitted, hoping Link could not hear “He is emotionless. His gaze is entirely steely and he has not spoken a single word to me. He simply stands, watching and waiting.
“Judging?” Impa added.
Zelda glanced to the side shamefully “Judging. Judging that his talents are wasted on a princess who cannot even perform the single duty that has been entrusted to her.”
“I think you’re projecting.”
“And you are far too calm.”
Impa giggled cutely “Appearances. I’m as nervous as you princess but I know better than anyone how uneasy people get if their leaders show panic. Your powers will come when they come. You will figure it out.”
Zelda turned to the ninja leader fearfully “And if they don’t?”
“Then I’ll protect you.” Impa answered truthfully “Link will protect you and the champions will kick some ganon butt! You’re not alone so stop acting like it.”
“Thank you Impa.” Zelda moved in for a hug.
“Nope!” Impa took a step back “No, no, no! That’s not proper.”
“I order you to give your princess a hug.”
“…..sigh, yes your highness.”
-----
Zelda’s eyes twinkled with a rare softness as she, Link and Mipha watched the young zora prince Sidon swim so carefree in the deep blue waters of the lake. Link was further ahead of the two princesses, standing at the shore of the lake vigilante for any signs of trouble.
“He certainly takes his duty seriously.” Zelda murmured under her breath.
Mipha laughed softly “It is nice to see how age has calmed him.”
Zelda tilted curiously to the champion “Mipha, you’ve known Link since you were both children, correct?”
Mipha nodded in confirmation “Yes ever since he arrived with a group of knights on orders of King Rhoam. Even then he was courageous. Impossibly reckless however but I suppose that is simply who Link is.
Mipha’s soft laughter grew into a playful chortle. Zelda quizzically stared at her fellow princess.
“Sorry your highness.” Mipha waved her hand in embarrassment “I was just thinking to myself how much healing practice Link has gotten me. I suppose I am as proficient as I am thanks him.”
“Oh?”
“He was always getting into trouble.” Mipha began, her voice taking on a hue of nostalgia “Always injured after throwing himself head first into danger. He hated sitting still, allowing others to suffer for him. His shell might be more silent and stoic but he is still the kind boy I knew. That I…”
Zelda caught the slight longing in the zora princess’s tone “Mipha?”
“It is nothing.”
Mipha slipped into a comfortable silence but Zelda bristled uneasily at a sudden realization.
“Mipha….”
Mipha faced Zelda, worry and concern etched in the scholar’s face.
“Do you think…” Zelda spoke slowly “Link hates me? That his talented and training is wasted watching a princess who cannot even produce a glare of light. I drag him everywhere, fuming at his presence all while he watches with an endless vigil.”
Mipha gently placed her hand onto Zelda’s shoulder. Zelda felt a calming presence fill her body and a quiet peace that came with it.
Mipha gave a soft smile “Link knows better than anyone how hard you are trying. He knows how desperate you must be. He does not disdain your loathing. He simply is giving you the space you desire. His duty is everything to him and he will perform it to his dying breath. You are his princess. He will ensure your safety.”
Zelda said nothing and despite the calming peace she felt, the twinge of guilt began to eat at her.
“LINK!”
The tension broke as Zelda and Mipha glanced back towards the lake. Sidon giggled and chuckled at a full swim, rapidly heading for the shore and Link. Link, caught off guard in a rare moment, began to panic. He moved this way and that, frantically searching beyond the approaching zora in search for a nonexistent threat.
He realized, too late, what Sidon was up to.
With a mighty push, Sidon flew out of the deep blue waters and sailed through the air, hands outstretched as he collided with Link. Link flailed backwards, struggling to keep his footing but ultimately losing it. He fell backwards onto the shore, Sidon embracing him tightly a bone breaking hug. Even young, a zora was strong.
“Sidon!” Mipha chastised but before she could move closer, Link stood up with the still embracing prince, an evil glint in his eyes.
“Oh dear.”
“What is happening?” Zelda asked, unsure what was going on.
Link picked up Sidon, holding him high into the air as the young prince chanted “Do it, do it, do it!”
And just like that, Link spun around. Around and around, once, twice, five times building speed with Sidon’s cheers filled the air. Without warning, Link chucked the young zora through the air and back into the lake.
Sidon dove in wholeheartedly and broke the surface with a triumphant yell.
“20 feet! A NEW RECORD!”
Mipha rubbed her eyes tiredly “Boys.”
Zelda giggled softly as Link rose his arms in victory.
-----
“Daruk?”
“Yeah tiny princess?”
“Is that...a rock?”
“Yeah it is!”
“And why...is Link….eating the rock?”
“It’s prime rock roast! He got a real taste for it after the first time.”
“Oh. Right. I recall that now.”
Daruk bellowed with a hearty laugh “Dontcha worry princess, little guy might a hylian but he’s got the stomach of a goron! I bet he’d eat anything. Even some kind of dubious food that’s just too gross to look at. KEEP IT UP LINK!”
Link raised a thumb as he continued to chew on the rocky texture of the roast.
Zelda couldn’t help but smile the Daruk’s presence. His good nature and cheeriness were too infectious for even the royal princess to resist.
“Now what brings you out here tiny princess? Did you finally want to try out the roast? I can have cooks whip up a fresh, steaming one for ya.”
“What? Oh no.” Zelda quickly responded “No. I ate at home before we arrived so I am quite full. Perhaps next time. I am actually here to see if you needed anything.”
Daruk rubbed the back of his neck shyly “Aww thanks tiny princess! I appreciate it! Though if you don’t wanna eat the roast, you can just tell me. I know it isn’t everyone’s taste.”
“Oh. I am sorry I simply did not want to hurt your feelings.”
“Not to worry, I can’t be hurt!” Daruk beamed, posing heroic as an orangish translucent dome appeared over the goron chief for a moment, shielding him from the outside world.
The pair broke into a joyful laugh.
“Thank you Daruk.”
“Think nothing of it tiny princess. Though, now that you mentioned it I might need a little favor from ya.”
Zelda eagerly listened “Name it Daruk and I shall do everything in my power to ensure it done.”
“It’s about Rudania.”
Zelda’s heart sank “The divine beast? Is something amiss?”
“Oh no no no.” Daruk raised his hands as if to physically stop that line of thinking “Nothing serious. It’s just that that wonderful fantastic machine is able to have some alterations. The controls aren’t exactly goron friendly, ya know?”
“Oh! Hmm, I shall talk to Purah and Robbie. If anyone can alter Rudania, it is them.”
“Thanks tiny princess!” Daruk patted her back in a friendly manner. Zelda had to brace herself to make sure she didn’t fall sprawling to the floor.
Rudania.
Zelda glanced upwards Death Mountain, the divine beast in question clinging to the side the volcanic mountain as if keeping an eye out for the calamity.
The divine beasts, ancient Sheikah machines made of stone and an unknown source of power. Her father claimed these machines had been around since the dawn of Hyrule. Though information on these and other Sheikah made devices were contradictory at best and nonexistent at worst. Even Impa, clan leader, knew next to nothing about their functionality or purpose. Luckily for everyone Purah and Robbie had devoted their lives to the study of these machines and it was only thanks to the pairs ceaseless work (and Zelda would say sometimes obsession) that the champions could practice and grew proficient with their individual machines.
“How is your training with Rudania going Daruk?”
Daruk scratched the back of his neck anxiously “I wish I could say it’s going good but it’s not exactly a stroll in the lava, ya know?”
“Of...course.” Zelda nodded slowly, unsure what a stroll in lava would entail “Perhaps we can search for some sort of manual or instructions.”
“Nah” Daruk waved her off “We both know nothing like that probably exists but that’s alright. I’mma going just go for it and do my best!”
Zelda stared at the goron with admiration “I wish I could be as confident as you are.”
“I’m not!”
Zelda watched as Daruk’s face beaming grin melt into an uneasy smile
“I’m not confident” Daruk admitted “This is hard. This is a piece of technology unlike anything else in our little home. I have no idea how to use it or even if I’m doing it right. Heck, I don’t even know if what I’m doing is working. I’m a goron and I’m good at that but this? This is something else.”
Zelda felt that. Her inability to draw on her powers. Her failures and her father’s growing desperation pushing her to extremes, to find an answer regardless of the cost.
“But, I’mma gonna try all the same.”
Daruk’s smile returned. Not with happiness but with determination.
“That’s all we can do, right tiny princess?” Daruk chuckled “Do our best. Maybe it’ll be enough. Maybe it won’t but we gotta at least try.”
Zelda smiled “You are right Daruk. We must at least try. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome! Haha, for what?”
-----
Zelda could feel Link shift his weight back and forth ontop of the snow bank. The pair were bundled in winter gear, huddled close in an attempt to stay warm in the frigid chill of the snowy breeze. Though Zelda knew that wasn’t why Link was unhappy.
“You still here knight? Go home. You need to train some more if you want to keep up with me.”
Link’s face remained as impassive as ever but Zelda could see by the tensing of his cheeks that he was fuming: Revali had that effect on the knight.
She was unsure why the Rito had such a deep disdain for Link but it made it difficult to plan training exercises between the two. Even visits to check on Revali were scarce given the fact Link followed his orders diligently. Nothing would dissuade Link from his task, not even insults and mockery.
Zelda had been softening her stance on Link over the last few weeks. True she hadn’t reached the point where she completely accepted his presence but she no longer loathed him for it. It was not his fault her father was so stubborn and final in his decrees. He did what he was told and he did it with as much respect as he could muster. It was oddly comforting to have him near in the rare moment she was being honest. Whether it be researching any leads to unlocking her powers to her hobby of cataloging the various flora and fauna of Hyrule, he did not judge her. He watched in a quiet reverence, his eyes darting about for signs of danger so she would feel safe enough to focus on her task. And the more time they spent together, the more she realized he was more expressive than she previously thought.
His emotions were far subtler: A twitch of the ear, a raised eyebrow, clenching of his jaws. This is how Link spoke. This is how he displayed his emotions. Little signs easily missed unless you had been searching for them.
Not that Zelda was looking. That would be silly for her to simply stare at the knight accompanying her all across the kingdom, protecting her from the various threats found throughout. She was merely making observations like the good scholar she was. Link was no different than the flora and fauna she studied. Granted he was a much more interesting subject but….
“Princess.”
Zelda snapped out of her thoughts, her face flushed with embarrassment at her trailing thoughts.
“Are you well?” Revali cocked his head sideways “Your face is red. I rather you not get sick simply because you wish to stand in this cold.”
“I-it is nothing Revali!” Zelda stammered out “Perhaps a small chill. It will pass. I am here to…”
“To see if I need anything” he finished for her “No princess, unlike certain people” he eyed Link distastefully “I am fine.”
Link said nothing but rather shifted the weight on his feet once more.
“Link” Zelda turned to her knight “Perhaps you could patrol the area. I fear the winds are growing more fierce. I would not want to walk back to the castle among an ambush if there is a storm.”
Link remained silent but gave a rigid, steely nod. He caught Revali’s gaze for a moment then trudge off into the snow.
“I don’t why you bring him” Revali sneered “He’s a worthless knight.”
“If he’s so worthless, why do you waste your time berating him?”
Revali turned his head “Hmmph, if your knight is so fragile that a little mockery scares him off, he has no business being with us.”
“Revali!” Zelda began but was silenced by his outstretched wing.
“I am the best princess.” He spoke matter of fact “I am your greatest warrior. My skill is unrivaled across the kingdom.”
Zelda fumed but allowed him to continue.
“I have overcome many challenges and challengers to my title” Revali’s looked out to the various snowy hills and slopes of the mountain, the Rito village barely visible among the snow flurry “I bested them all. When you are so talented, many eyes will fall upon you and their expectations as well. They will say whatever they wish. You must ignore them. You must not allow their pitiful jealousy distract from your task, your goal. I am here to protect my people and for that, I must be the best. I must work with the best and I must train with people with some skill.”
“Revali, what are you…?”
Revali scoffed “You have kept me from training princess. Your knight might be the best among you but he certainly is no match for me. How is he supposed to survive the upcoming fight unless he fights with his all against a superior opponent.”
“I see” Zelda slowly caught on.
“Good. I will be at the castle tomorrow. Make sure your knight is ready for bruises and sores. I won’t have him die on us because he was being lazy.”
“Of course Revali. I’m sure Link will appreciate your concern.”
Revali huffed “I don’t like deadweight is all.”
Zelda said nothing but remembered that Link had won the champion’s last archery contest a few weeks ago.
-----
The desert was colder than you would expect at night but Zelda was not stranger to it. She loved coming out to the Gerudo desert with her mother, spending all day among the Gerudo and its splendor. It was quiet out here, bringing a rare peace not found in the city. The distant sound of thunder boomed but it was soft and enlightening more than frightening. It comforted Zelda.
“Thinking of her again little bird?”
Zelda nodded honestly, the desert stretched out before her as the twinkling stars glimmered beautifully overhead.
Urbosa, champion and her mother’s dearest friend, stood watch nearby.
Zelda turned back to Link, unable to keep the grin off her face as he remained slumped against the wall, his riding hood and cloak turned into a makeshift blanket. His breathing was slow and steady and while it was clear he was sleeping, she also knew that with one word from her lips he would awaken, ready for whatever awaited him.
She was glad he was resting at least. This had been his first trip to the desert and he had not quite been prepared for the intense heat nor the attention he received from the town. A male within its walls was a rare sight. She knew Link disliked attention above all else, except perhaps Revali.
She giggled at her joke.
“You seem more comfortable with Link than I remember.”
“Oh.” Zelda cleared her throat, willing her blush away “Well y-yes. Some of my conversations with the others have led to some interesting insight. Perhaps I had not been considerate towards Link. He is just performing his duty.”
Urbosa leaned in teasingly “Link now is it? Not the knight or he?”
Zelda’s blush spread rapidly throughout her cheeks.
Urbosa laughed loudly “You are far too easy to fluster little bird.”
“I am not flustered!”
“I don’t blame you” Urbosa glanced at Link’s sleeping form “He is quite handsome and not like most men.”
“Urbosa!”
Urbosa laugh once more “So it worked then?”
Zelda was confused “What did?”
“My distraction.”
“Distraction? From?” Realization washed over Zelda “Oh.”
Urbosa gave a solemn nod “I miss your mother terribly. She was an amazing woman and I feel her loss deeply now as I did then.”
Zelda tucked her legs under her arms “I feel like she would be disappointed in me. Not having unlocked my power. Chasing down lead after lead with nothing to show for it.”
“Don’t be absurd!” Urbosa scolded “She would be proud of you. Her beautiful daughter, a natural leader. Especially between Link and Revali. Hylia’s miracle you managed to wrangle them into line. I thought they were going to murder each other at their last training session.”
“I admit I was worried I was about to have to arrest one of them for murder.” Zelda admitted.
The two shared a laugh.
“Do not fret little bird.” Urbosa cupped Zelda’s cheek lovingly “She would think the world of you. She would want you to do your best, not hers.”
“I miss her Urbosa.” Zelda shed a single tear “I just miss her so terribly.”
“Me too little bird. But she lives on in you.”
Zelda clenched her fist, holding it close to her heart as she closed her eyes “I suppose I’ll just have keep at it.”
“That a girl. Now want to see something funny?” Urbosa grinned mischievously, a snap at the ready while she approached the slumbering form of Link.
-----
Link was unsure what to make of princess Zelda’s request to ask him some questions. It had been a few months since he was first assigned to her guard detail and while it had been rather rocky start, she grew to tolerate his presence and was almost friendly with him.
Almost.
Today started off no different than any other: Princess Zelda wanted to stretch her legs out in the fields. Link was used to this particularly outing. He noticed the princess often wished to leave the castle on the days her father was being forceful about her training her powers. Something that was happening with increasing occurrence nowadays.
Despite his lack of talking and general stoic disposition, he enjoyed his time with the princess. True most of it had been at a distance, carefully watching out for her safety but these last few weeks had been a nice change of pace. She allowed to walk closer to her, hadn’t scoffed or turned up her nose at him trailing behind her and became more visibly relaxed when alone with him.
Though she had also become more distracting to the young knight. Everyone knew the princess was beautiful but Link still hadn’t gotten used to it even after all this time. Every morning he would face that same beauty and every morning he would be thoroughly flatfooted at the sight of her. It was easier when she forced him to watch far away, when she spoke to and about him with a quiet disdain. She didn’t like him and he was just here to do his job. Nice, done and easy.
But lately the princess had been asking him to stay close regardless if they were traveling through the countryside or to the frigid Rito Village or the blazing furnace that was Death Mountain. She smiled often now, especially when she found a new plant or animal about. Link would be standing, vigilante when the princess would call for him and when he whirled around, sword at the ready, he found not monsters but the sight of the princess mid-smile and holding out some new thing for him to see, excitement twinkling in her eyes.
It was getting really hard to focus on his task.
“Link, are you alright?”
Link flushed, nearly tripping over himself as the princess broke him from his stupor.
They were sitting at peaceful meadow not too far the castle, the princess’s notebook at her side filled with her various observations and musings.
Link must’ve spaced out because he had not noticed the princess approach him, her face inches away from his.
“I am sorry.” She apologized “I did not mean to startle you.”
Link shook his head in disagreement, raising a hand to tell her not to worry.
“I-if you don’t feel comfortable answering my questions, you do not have to.”
Link gestured for her to continue.
“Link” the princess composed herself “Why don’t you speak?”
Link was caught off guard by the question. No one really questioned why he chose not to speak. Most assumed it was some strange choice by some stranger lad from the country. Or perhaps he could not speak. As long as he stabbed the bad guy, no one seemed to care beyond that and the more renown he gained, the more Link felt he needed to maintain the illusion, the stoic unflappable hero of Hyrule.
Well, until the real hero of Hyrule appeared.
Link mused for a moment, wondering how to best explain his situation to the princess.
“I’m sorry.”
Link was taken aback by the princess’s shameful tone.
“I….I did not mean to be so personal.” She began, eyes cast away from him “It….it just occurs to me I have known you for a few months now and yet I have never once heard you speak. I know I have not been most friendly person to you and I understand if you find me rude or perhaps annoying. I know watching me wade through the fields is not the most effective use of your talents.”
Link could feel panic setting in. He couldn’t let the princess blame herself! Especially now that she was making an effort to open up to him. Link licked his lips, willing the words to form into existence.
“I am sorry Link” Link’s heart fluttered at the sound of his name. She said his name! She said his name! She’s never said his name to him before!
“Perhaps I should just remain silent.” the princess went on “I am truly sorry for mistreating you and taking my frustration about my father out on you. You did not deserve that.”
Wait! No no no no!
The princess sighed dejectedly, turning away from Link.
Link bit his lip, taking deep slow breathes as he tried to form the words in his head.
-----
Zelda was disappointed but not surprised by Link’s lack of a response. She knew it might’ve been a little too late given her treatment of him but she had been hoping perhaps she could convince him that she was not as nasty as she appeared to him. Alas, it seems it was for naught.
“W-wait.”
Zelda blinked, unsure if she really heard what she thought she heard. She turned slowly to Link, surprised to see him with a hand outstretched, sweat forming upon his brow as he awkwardly moved his mouth as if trying to get it to work.
“D-did you say something Link?” She asked quizzically.
Link gave a short nod.
Zelda whirled around, knees against the grass as she leaned in closer, unable to get Link’s voice out of her ears.
Link gestured to himself, touching his chest with an open hand.
“You.”
Link nodded, wincing as he struggled to speak.
“I. Don’t. Like. Talking.”
Zelda was in awe at Link. For a warrior so fierce, so steely, so loyal his voice was soft. It was gentle and quiet like a breeze yet still lingered in her mind.
“You don’t like talking” Zelda repeated “I understand.”
Link nodded once before breaking into a toothy smile.
Zelda’s heart raced at the sight of the indifferent Link forming a full smile on his face. She pulled back, trying to will the red out of her hair.
Link tilted his head curiously towards Zelda before he closed the distance.
Zelda’s heart thundered in her ears as Link placed a cool hand upon her forehead, his face returning to its stony indifference but his eyes filled with worry.
“I’m fine!” Zelda waved him off, pulling away before she turned any redder “I...just thought of something.”
Link looked unconvinced but let it go. He stood to his feet and offered his hand to the princess.
Zelda stared up, the sun glowing brightly behind Link’s form as he waited patiently for her. She took his hand and he, firmly but gently, pulled her to her feet.
Link gestured to her horse.
“Yes.” Zelda nodded in agreement “Perhaps it is time to go home.”
Link gave a thumbs up and went to retrieve their horses.
Zelda pinched her cheeks with all her might.
“Urbosa was right. He is handsome.”
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Text
Read Into Me Chapter 3: The Scarlet Letter
Steve Harrington x Reader
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CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE
Word Count: 4,420
Warnings: Bad grades, swearing, anxiety, bullying
Tag List: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina​ @maddie1504​ @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary​ @bajino-in-the-hole @buckysarge​ @wildcvltre​ @stanleyyelnatsiii​ @t0rmenta0​ @10blurredsmoke10 @unusuallchildd @n3wtscaseofniffler5​ @alwaysstressedout @peterparxour @linkispink1995​ @asharpknife @a-big-ball-of-idk​ @used-avocado​ @mochminnie​ @sledgy14​ @the-creative-lie​
Steve arrived first to Mr. Lawrence’s homeroom, his paper shoved to the back of his notebook. He was happy to have the distraction of Vicki and Tina jabbering at him. He didn’t want to think about his paper. English wasn’t his best subject, but he could hide it from his peers when it was just the teacher and him going back and forth on essays, him writing and them marking. Now, somebody was going to know that he wasn’t good at this. Nancy knew, of course, and while she didn’t say it she always seemed a bit judgemental over his lack of essay writing skill. She was good at everything; it made him feel like he was in good hands when they were together, like they both had something to offer. Apart, it made him feel stupid and secondary, like he was awful at everything. Truth be told, he didn’t exactly know what he had even offered to that relationship, looking back he couldn’t understand why he thought he was worth anything in a relationship at all.
When he sat down, the desk next to him was empty. Steve wasn’t usually early to class, so he was a bit relieved to not see you there. Maybe he could avoid the eminent roasting of his work.
You got to school late. You were absolutely drenched from head to toe. You had walked to school that day, and a sudden rainstorm hit you halfway through, soaking you before you could make it to the building. To make it worse, you’d decided to wear white for the first time in forever. You rushed to your locker in the hopes to change and luckily you���d left a stained sweatshirt there from the previous semester. You’d pushed your wet hair up and away from your face and rubbed away the bits of black eyeliner that had flaked down you cheeks. You looked like shit and you knew it. It was turning into a less than successful morning. You hadn’t even had a chance to look in your locker mirror once you’d changed. You were already late enough for class and didn’t need the write up. You rushed to your English class.
Everyone turned their attention to the doorway when you opened it. You hurried to your desk, keeping your head down and ignoring as Vicki and Tina laughed. You heard Tina say “She looks like a drowned rat.” But you chose to pretend that you didn’t. You were freezing; Hawkins High turned off the heating system mid-March and left the school to stew in whatever weather the state was dealing with to save the county a few bucks a month.
Steve slid his paper onto your desk, keeping his eye on the front of the room as Mr. Lawrence took up attendance. He’d written on the board in chalk ‘how to peer edit’ in thick block letters. You weren’t exactly enthused by the topic, but you were glad to have the dull class to doodle instead of actually listening. You flipped the paper in front of you, looking over Steve’s chicken scratch without really taking in any of the information. You slid it into your trapper keeper, passing Steve your own typed copy of the assignment. You’d made sure to keep the original at home, edited just in case Steve didn’t give you any edits. You left in some mistakes so he could get a grade, but you didn’t want to have to rely solely on him.
You flipped open your sketchpad slowly, keeping your eye on Tracy Lords curly mess of hair piled high on the top of her head like Medusa’s snakes trapped in a golden laurel, or in this case a braided headband. You pulled your graphite pencil from the pink pencil bag you’d sewn in freshman year home-ec. You started with the shape, trying to capture the exact strangeness pile, making little tight curls in the centre of the oval and spiralling in all directions. You felt a pair of eyes on your neck and you turned to see Steve staring over your shoulder. You pulled yourself and the pad inward, trying not to blush. You didn’t like people looking at your art; you hardly showed your work to anyone, even Samantha. All of your drawings sat in their pads, which piled up as the years went by, untouched and forgotten. If Samantha wasn’t allowed to see the pictures of her, Steve Harrington was certainly not allowed a peak.
“Alright, today if you and your partner are ready to begin, we’ll start editing our papers. If you aren’t ready, that’s fine but today is the only day that we’re doing in class editing so I would spend today trying to finish up so you can at least pass your papers on.” Mr. Lawrence explained. You sighed, closing your pad and pulling Steve’s essay from your trapper keeper.
“Now, we want to look for not only spelling and grammar problems, but also sentences that don’t make sense and confusing details within the essay. It’s not about how many big words you can use, it’s if you can accurately and dynamically give your reader information.” Mr. Lawrence explained. He took to the board, writing key points for his marking, specifically to edit in pen and give a letter grade for the paper.
Tina’s hand shot up “You want us to grade the paper? Isn’t that your job?” she asked, smacking her gum violently. Vicki snickered into her palm, reddish brown hair away from her face.
Mr. Lawrence shook his head “No no, I’m not taking your grade on the papers into consideration for my grade, instead I want us to give each other grades to mark the progress of an essay, to give your partner an idea of what the paper might be worth. It’ll be up to them as to whether or not they are comfortable with the grade or if they want to improve.”
You didn’t like that. Who the hell wanted their classmate grading their paper? This was a recipe for disaster. You uncapped your red pen with your teeth, chewing on the lid nervously. You looked over the page. You had made up your mind that you’d be nice. You’d want Steve to be nice to you. It was the least you could do.
But it only took a few lines to understand that this was not a good paper. Spelling and grammar mistakes galore, run on, confusing sentences, no clear subject. It wasn’t even a good story, hell it wasn’t even an essay it came off more like a point form list. As you added more and more red ink to the black, white, and blue it started as. The paper started to become a Jackson Pollack more than a lame essay for an English class, it almost felt beautiful instead of shitty to destroy his essay. It was as though you were turning into art.
Out of curiosity, you looked over at your paper to see how it was fairing. Steve was, as expected, chatting up Vicki from across the aisle, and he’d made two corrections on your page, both small mistakes you’d left in. You rolled your eyes, a pit of annoyance making itself known in the centre of your stomach, as bitter as the cyanide in a peach pit. You made your last two corrects before scrawling a large ‘D’ at the top of the page and initialling next to it.  
You flipped the paper over and pulled back out your sketchpad and brought it close to your chest, pulling your knee up to your chest and adding more curls to the back of Tracy Lords’ head, then focusing in on the braided headband until the bell rang. You flipped your pad closed and slid Steve’s essay back to him, quickly putting your stuff away.
“You mind if I take this home and give it to you tomorrow?” Steve asked, waving your essay in front of your face, nearly giving you a paper cut on the bridge of your nose.
You pushed the paper away, squinting up at him. “Yeah, whatever…” you replied, turning away from. You didn’t feel bad for giving him a bad grade now. He was still a dick head. “Don’t forget your paper.” You added, quickly making your way into the halls. You didn’t usually have the confidence to be snarky with anyone you didn’t trust, but something told you that you could handle Steve Harrington. Maybe it was just how awful his essay was, you felt like you could talk your way out of a fight.
Samantha grabbed your arm as you left the room, the pair of you thankful to have the same lunch period every other day. You hurried into the cafeteria. You knew well enough that she was on the prowl, eyes scanning the room for a certain figure.
“I think the band’s practising today, dude.” You said, taking an extra tray for Samantha and getting her serving of lumpy mashed potatoes and chicken surprise slopped on the plate. Samantha was looking for Robin Buckley, a junior on her soccer team who had drawn her attention as of late, and had been trying to get closer to her as of late, inviting her to join them for lunch every time she saw her and leaving you to third wheel.
“Yeah, probably.” She replied, taking the tray you held out for her and paid for her meal. “So, how’d talking sweet, sexy assignments with King Harrington?” Samantha crooned, batting her eyelashes up at you.
You rolled your eyes “Well, for one, we don’t talk period, and for another it’s fucking awful.” Taking your places at the table closest to the emergency exit, you settled into your routine of trying to choke down the awful cafeteria food. You grabbed your trays and had them filled with whatever horrific concoction the lunch ladies had come up with that day. You carried your grey and brown mushy mess to your table, a small four seater near the edge of the room, out of view from the popular assholes who liked the throw food.
“Oh? Is that what makes it awful? Not getting to enjoy the charming conversations he has to offer?” Samantha was trying hard not to laugh. Watching you squirm was hilarious.
“More like because I have to read his writing…” you replied. You jabbed your fork into what was supposed to be pot roast, but seemed to be ninety percent instant gravy and ten percent meat from an undetermined animal.
“Since when are you such a snob?” Samantha’s mouth was full of mashed potatoes, but the words rang clear.
“Since I spent my morning reading absolute dog shit about a vacation to Miami beach. It was pathetic! I mean, and I’m no critic, but if you’re going to write me an essay on your vacation, can you at least make it interesting?” you ranted. The more you talked about how awful it was the angrier you got about it. You spent so long on art and creating, you spent your time working hard and for someone to slide through life made your blood boil.
Steve didn’t usually spend his free time searching through the cafeteria for people, people usually found him. Tommy and Carol had already motioned him over, their new friend Billy already gone somewhere else, and Vicki and Tina had called for him to join them, but Steve had to handle something first. He didn’t really know what he was looking for, he wasn’t certain he’d find it in there, but there wasn’t any shame in searching. He would ask someone for directions, but it seemed that nobody knew or cared where you were at any time.
You gave him a ‘D’. A god damned ‘D’! He was flummoxed, he thought his essay was shit, he wouldn’t pretend that he didn’t, but he had expected you to be a bit kinder. That was like the unexpected rule of everyone in the class, to grade on the curve. But you went in hard. All he wanted was some answers.
He saw first a flash of pencil stained hands in the air, then the shine of your hair under the florescent lights. You were talking with your hands, making Samantha Cameron laugh hard. He’d never seen you that animated, it made him smile for reasons he didn’t quite understand.
He chuckled, coming up behind you in the hopes that your ease would stick around if he didn’t announce his presence. “You really gave me a D on my paper? What did I do to deserve that?” he asked.
Apparently, you really couldn’t smile when he was around. Both you and Samantha’s smiles dropped, your punky friend dropping her gaze as you were forced to turn around. “Oh…um…well I mean it…maybe I need to look it over again, I was probably being too harsh…” you stuttered, unable to keep yourself from burning up.  You prayed that he hadn’t heard what you were saying. That would’ve been awful.
“Hey, it’s cool, the paper’s no good, it’s no big deal.” That was a lie of sorts, when Steve saw the big red ‘D’, his heart dropped. And he really didn’t believe that you were as innocent as you seemed. You seemed guilty over something.
“Well…I’m sorry anyway. I didn’t mean to bother you…” you apologized. You hoped he’d go away; you’d never been more uncomfortable around a person than Steve Harrington. You didn’t know why, but something about him made gave you more butterflies than other people did, he scared you for reasons you couldn’t quite understand.
“You didn’t bother me, don’t worry.” Steve chuckled awkwardly. You wouldn’t look him in the eye, it was throwing him off. “So, listen, I don’t want to fail this class,” he huffed out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck “Could you maybe help me rewrite this thing?”
You looked to Samantha, unsure if you could even speak words anymore, but she was smirking into her pot roast. Absolutely no help at all. You tried to smile “Um…sure, I can’t promise I’ll be much help though…” your voice was hoarse and unsure of itself. You hated that you’d said yes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to refuse. What if he got mad? Or yelled at you? You couldn’t handle being ridiculed or yelled at, you’d die.
Steve chuckled “Any help I can get is good enough. I can meet you in the library after school, okay?” he said, turning his gaze to Tommy’s hollering from across the cafeteria. He waved him over with both hands, like a sailor on a sinking ship, trying to beckon Steve back to where he belonged. Steve nodded, holding up his index finger, he only needed one minute.
“Sure, yeah that’ll work.” You said, fiddling with a thread hanging from the edge of your grey sweatshirt. You’d painted a little pink flower on the inside of the sleeve. When Steve saw it, he couldn’t help but smile at it; it looked so sweet and earnest.
“Alright, I’ll see you then.” He left after that, heading over to Tommy, who was frustrated beyond belief. He took his seat easily, stealing the pudding cup off of Carol’s tray wordlessly.
“What did that freak want?” Tommy asked loudly, his eyes blown wide. Carol was painting her nails, not even bothering to look up from her work. Tommy made no attempts to hide his dislike of you. He’d expected his best friend since the second grade to feel the same.
“She’s nice, we’re doing an assignment together.” Steve replied with a shrug, pulling the plastic covering off the cup, sticking the plastic spoon into the vanilla pudding.
Across the room, Samantha grabbed onto your hands with a giddy grin. “Look at my little girl! She’s got plans, with a boy!” she squealed, swinging your arms back and forth over the table.
“Jesus, can you please stop acting so straight? You’re gonna scare Robin off.” You yanked your hands away, watching with a grin as she turned her attention back to looking around the room excitedly. You let your eyes find Steve in the cafeteria, the buzz of fear filling your ears. You couldn’t believe that you agreed to meet him anywhere. You wanted to disappear.
You couldn’t focus on anything for the rest of the day. Your mind had gone into a feral sort of panic mode, pumping fear through your veins and turning your palms cold. When the final bell rang, it took all your strength and courage to not run all the way home. You knew that if you didn’t show, the problem wouldn’t go away. You’d just have to deal with the results of ditching the next day, and if not done now, then you’d have to deal with it another day. You clutched your books tight to your chest, sitting on the bench outside the library, trying to keep the butterflies from bursting out of your mouth. Your hands kept coming to your hair, trying to fix it or keep it away from your ears, maybe just to comfort yourself. It had dried weird and you worried that it looked ridiculous.
You saw his shoes come up to yours before you saw his face, royal blue Adidas with white and red details and dirty laces. You noted your own dirty white Converse, marked with mud and lyrics to songs that Samantha wrote on the toes. “Hey, you ready to do this?” Steve asked. You looked up and nodded, swallowing hard.
You wouldn’t make eye contact with him again. It was really starting to freak him out. He didn’t know what he did wrong, but it seemed like you really didn’t like him. Still, you’d agreed to help him and he wouldn’t take that for granted. He’d read your essay twice and it was good. He didn’t know much about good writing, but he knew that Mr. Lawrence would like it, that it would get a good grade. And he wanted decent grades too, so he could get into college and get his dad off his back.
The Hawkins High library was fairly quiet after school, most students headed back home or to after school clubs.  Only a few stragglers remained, mostly using electric typewriters and returning books to poor Mrs. Mueller, who always kept the library open till four, waiting for her husband, the head of custodial staff, to finish his work. She smiled at you when you walked in. Mrs. Mueller was a nice woman who let you sit in the library during lunch and always checked in on you when you seemed alone. She was your favourite teacher, despite never having a class taught by her.
Steve chose a table in the dead centre of the room, dropping his blue bag on the wooden chair next to him and pulling out his papers. You carefully followed suite, folding your hands in your lap, unsure what to do with them. Steve smiled at you, sliding the essay towards you “So, what am I doing wrong?” he asked.
You narrowed your eyes, unsure where to begin. You picked up the paper, and then open your notebook, writing down everything the story seemed to be about. Steve watched you, utterly confused.  Once you had every down, you set down your pen. “Okay,” you didn’t look up from your paper, sliding the essay to the middle of the table. “Tell me what your paper is about.”
“What? You read it, you should know.” Steve laughed awkwardly.
“Humour me.” You replied, looking up slowly to meet his eye. Steve’s smiled dropped, looking at you for a second. You broke eye contact first, but he wished he had been able to hold it for a moment longer.
“Okay, well,” he took a deep breath “I wrote about my family’s trip to our cottage on Miami Beach, and I talked about what I did. Nothing much.”
“Okay, because what you actually wrote isn’t really about that. What you told me is that you went to Miami Beach, your parents own a dirty beach house that was your grandparent’s house and that they’re both dead, that your grandfather fought in World War Two and that the medals were framed in the house, that you met a girl on the beach but she didn’t like you, and that the flight was long.” You explained. You still couldn’t believe that he’d fit all of that into a page of work.
“So?” Steve asked. That was all true of his last trip. Mind you, that was way back in middle school and the details were hazy.
“So, that’s a lot of information that I don’t care about. You can cut all of the stuff about your grandparents, which takes up like half of it. And when you cut that, all I know is that the beach house is in Miami Beach and you met a girl and the flight was long. That’s not bad, but I’d like to know a bit more about it.” You said, taking back the essay from the middle of the page and crossed out every line about his grandparents.
“What do I say instead then?” Steve asked, watching as you crossed out half his page, trying not to sound defeated. You were basically saying that he had to start all over again.
“Well, tell me about the beach? Pretend like I’ve never been. What’s there to do, what’d you like about it?” you shrugged. You found yourself feeling a tad bit calmer; the butterflies had calmed their intense flapping and had let you breathe.
Steve sighed “I don’t know, I’m just bullshitting.”
“What’d you mean?” you asked.
“I mean, I didn’t go on there, I haven’t been to our beach house since I was a kid.” Steve looked away. He was embarrassed to have been caught in a lie, even more knowing that now he’d have to rewrite his whole paper.
“Oh…what’d you actually do on your break?” you hadn’t expected him to be lying about anything, a snow bird spring break trip sounded about right for his family, they were always bragging about their money.
Steve chuckled “Oh no, nothing worth writing an essay on.” You looked up at him again. He seemed a bit sad. You pulled another sheet of paper from your trapper keeper, setting it overtop the last one.
“Tell me about it.” You smiled at him despite yourself. He was bit easier to talk to than you’d imagined.
Steve swallowed, nodding despite himself. “Well, I mean my parents went to the beach house and I tried to throw a party, you probably heard about how that went.” He rubbed at the back of his neck.
“No…” you shook your head. Steve wasn’t expecting that. Everyone had heard about the failed party, he’d gotten shit about it for weeks.
“Well, I couldn’t get any supplies, so I cancelled and hung out with Tommy and Carol instead. We got drunk in my backyard and Carol fell in the pool. She was so pissed. Then, I pretty much just hung about town, helped my buddy Dustin beat Dragon’s Lair at the arcade.” Steve didn’t really like admitting how lame his life was, he purposefully left out how Tommy and Carol only hung out with him when he went to pick up some weed from his older brother and they wanted a hit off it. Admitting that his life wasn’t that great made him feel small and like it was out of his control, which was not exactly a good feeling.
“Okay, tell me about the little party you had with Tommy and Carol. What was the night like? Was it fun? Did you jump in the pool too or did you watch her fall and laugh?” You had written down the few details in a bubble tree and added more details as he explained his time more thoroughly. You managed to get a bit more information on both events, learning more about his friend Dustin and the game they played.
When he was finished, you slid the page over to him. He took it, eyebrow raised in confusion, but you spoke before he could ask any questions. “This is your blue print. I wrote down everything you told me; now just turn it into an essay. The whole trick about these assignments is that you’re telling a story, and to make it interesting you have to give us details, and not about your grandparents or other things that don’t add to the story at hand, about what actually was happening.” You explained, checking the plastic watch on your wrist. It was almost four and Mrs. Mueller had already passed your table twice, her silent warning to leave. Everyone else who had been there had long left and you became very aware of how alone you were with him. The butterflies started their flapping again, churning tides in your stomach.
Steve smiled “Okay, I promise it’ll be interesting though.” He chuckled.
You shrugged “I promise that it’s more interesting than what you had before.” You shoved your papers into your bag, standing quickly “If you want me to look at it again before you hand it in, just bring it to me in class, alright? The library’s closing so I should go.”
“You want a ride home?” you spun around to look at him, crossing your arms over your paint splattered sweatshirt. The rain storm of the morning was long forgotten and you didn’t know what the weather looked like now. A part of you wanted to take the ride, but a much bigger part of you told you to run away.
You shook your head “No, um my friend Samantha said she’d drive me after her soccer practise, she’s probably waiting for me.” You lied straight through your teeth, adjusting your backpack straps on your shoulders.
“Oh…sure, yeah, I’ll see you around.” Steve stood slowly, tucking in his chair. You waved politely and headed out. The rain had stopped, thank god, and you rushed to your locker, grabbing your wet clothes from your locker before making your way outside. The field was muddy, practise was probably cancelled. You took the long way home that afternoon, cutting through the woods and the muddy park to avoid being spotted by Harrington on the way and getting caught in a lie.
The afternoon had gone well. And that scared the shit out of you.
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esthersroleplayhud · 3 years
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Walk in Nature
A Story of Seasons story where Female OC and Jennifer go for a morning walk.
Tagging @of-stars-and-pens because they asked me to.
I have a crush. I have a crush on a girl who I really feel like I should have a better grasp on what to do. Jennifer and I really had connected these past few months. I'm still waiting to figure out how to tell her my feelings, so one could only imagine how I felt when she suggested an autumn morning stroll.
I knew I had to have something to impress her. We had arranged for me to pick her up at the Inn where she was staying and I was going to make sure she had a smile on her face when she saw me. Was this greedy and selfish of me? Perhaps. But the Harvest Goddess said she would make me closer to anyone you wanted. And there was only one person on my mind. I said her name without even thinking. It really has been smooth sailing with Jennifer since. Part of me wanted to tell her about this encounter. But Mother Nature Bless. That encounter made me believe in what Jennifer believed. Funny how I was so easily influenced by her, isn't it? It just makes that crush of mine all the more valid, right? I hope so. But I suppose my opinion is the only one I should care about in this situation. Mine and Jennifer's.
I sigh and scratched my head as I looked down at the cooking pot. I was roasting chestnuts for us to share on our walk. She loved them. The chestnut trees were dropping like crazy and I noticed she was always so happy to receive one from me. I put the warm nuts in a fabric sack so they'd cool evenly. I grabbed a bar of chocolate and walked to the Inn.
Ran was wiping down tables. She looked up and gave you a knowing smile, "Those chestnuts smell like you cooked them to perfection, Esther! Jen's just gunna love them." "Thanks," I smiled at Ran, "Is she still up there?"
"Yeah. She's in her room. She's normally ok with visitors, so if you knock, I'm sure she'll be happy for the surprise."
"Thanks, Ran," I nod as I head up stairs. I take a deep breath and knock on the door.
"Come in!" A gentle voice beckons me in. I open the door and Jennifer is brushing her hair with a wooden hair brush. She pulls her hat on and looks at me. I felt a soft blush on my face as I see how soft her eyes were already, "Good morning, Esther. How are the energies of your farm?" "They're spot on. I got eggplants and chili peppers growing in spades right now!" I beam.
"Oh marvelous!" Her voice is moderately high with an airy quality about it that makes it feel like she never quite has a full hold of her breath. Something about it makes me want to listen to her talk more, "Are you ready for our walk?"
"I am," I hand her the bar of chocolate, "For when I bring you back here.
Jennifer took it, "Oh. My stars must be aligned for me to receive a gift this wonderful," She held the bar of chocolate close to her chest before putting it on the night stand.
I held up the bag of roasted chestnuts, "Then your stars must be in perfect alignment, because I made us some roasted chestnuts to snack on while we walk."
I smirk with confidence as her eyes get wide, "Wondiferous!" She gasps, "I do love those."
"I hope you don't mind, but I got a little creative and put some honey and salt on them. They're more candied than what I normally make."
"That will be fine," Jennifer assures me with a smile. I have very little doubt in my mind that this is going to work out.
"What is our route?" I look at Jennifer, "I know that we will go wherever Mother Nature takes us, but I also want to know where we will be starting."
"Let's start at the park and see where our feet take us," Jennifer was still smiling as she looked at me.
"Sounds perfect," I smiled back at her, "Shall we go, then?" I offer my arm, in spite of knowing that I will have to drop my hold on her so she can go down the stairs. Still, she takes it and we leave her room to head outside.
She took my arm again and I can't help but feel smitten. We walk through the park and on towards the mountain. We see Isabelle. Our lake. Our beautiful lake with its angelic name. I smile at the memory. Jennifer looks at me, "What?"
"Just thinking about naming that lake with you," I look back at her.
Jennifer blushed again, "I was thinking about that moment too. We always seem to be on the same page in moments like that, Esther. It's like you really see me."
I couldn't look away from her, "Yeah? I try to see people for who they are. I don't want to not see people for who they are. It's part of what made me leave the city and take on Grandpa's farm, you know? I just felt like there was something here where I would be able to connect with myself better."
I saw a look in Jennifer's eyes that I had never seen before. I didn't know what she was thinking in that moment, but I had a good feeling about it. She spoke at last, "Then Mother Nature really has brought us together, Esther. One day, I hope that I feel comfortable telling you where I came from, but for now, we are just two souls seeing comfort in Nature. I can't imagine anything more perfect than that."
"Yeah," I smile at her, "Neither can I," I pause for a moment, "I know we're close to your tent, but do you want to rest here for a moment? Or do you want to go up the mountain?"
Jennifer looked at her tent, "Let's go to my tent. Perhaps I can make us some tea and we can enjoy the chestnuts you made."
"Sounds perfect," I follow her as she leads me to her tent. The smell of potpourri and incense fills the air. I know from prior conversations with Jennifer that everything down to her perfumes she makes herself, but I am always impressed. It makes me think of the herbalist and witch shops back from the city where I'm from. I always liked how those places smell. I like how Jennifer smells.
While I was day dreaming, Jennifer made us some tea. She was pouring my cup while I was day dreaming. I come back to have her hand me the cup, "Thanks," I say with a smile. I take a sip and melt, "It's perfect," I assure her.
She smiles back at me, "I'm so glad. Because of our walk, I was not able to forage for fresh tea ingredients. I am blessed to have a bounty as large as I did yesterday."
"I think we are all better off for your tea and for your presence, Jennifer," I untie the satchel of chestnuts from my belt and open it, placing the bag between us, "Please. Help yourself. Any leftovers are yours."
She takes one and melts, "The honey is from your farm, correct? I can taste the love and care you put into your work, Esther."
I smile back at her, having a sip of the tea, "I can taste the love and care in your tea as well, Jennifer. Say. Do you just want to hang out here for a while?"
Jennifer looked at me for a moment and blinked a few times, "Yes. Actually. I would enjoy that very much. Thank you."
I leaned back having another sip. This wasn't the walk in nature I had envisioned, but it was the walk they needed. I looked at Jennifer for a moment longer. If only there was a way I could show her how I felt. But words didn't work. I would have to ask the townsfolk about dating here. Even if we were both outsiders, I think Jennifer would appreciate a respect of customs.
I refocused on her. After all. It wasn't every day I had a private breakfast with a crush I had no idea what to do with. And for now, I was just happy to let these emotions be what they were.
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Holding Hands
Synopsis: Essek tours the tower for the first time and he and Caleb have some honest talks. A little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff. Just how I like my wizards. 
It had been a long day in Eiselcross. The Mighty Nein were all weary on their feet, many of them hurt from their various encounters along the way and everyone could probably use the rapport boost of a warm bed and good food. Still Caleb was leary of using the tower when Lucien had proven he could easily dispel it.
“But Caleb” Jester pleaded while grabbing onto his arm with her charming little mittens. “If Lucien’s not nearby yet then we wasted a night of good, safe rest. Wouldn’t it be better to fight him with a good night of sleep before? And besides, the tower is harder to find than the dome.” and she blinked up at him with that particular Jester pout that Caleb found particularly difficult to resist.
“Ja… we could…” He left room for Fjord or Beau to interject with a discussion of the best tactical decision, but they were surprisingly quiet. He glanced at them and saw that Beau was leaning hard against the wall, favouring the leg that hadn’t been hurt in their last run in and trying to play it off. Fjord’s face was etched with exhaustion. That settled it for Caleb. It was worth the boost in moral that an evening in the tower would provide… even if it served to be only a temporary situation. “Ja. We could” He repeated more firmly and began his preparations for the tower.
It was a challenging spell and Caleb had plenty of experience tuning out his companions when doing this work, but Beau and Caduceus couldn’t help but notice the almost imperceptible pause and tensing of Caleb’s shoulders that accompanied Jester grabbing Essek and delightedly declaring:
“Oh, Essek you are going to love the tower! And not just because it’s all wizardy and stuff but Caleb made it so nice. There are lots of cats, and everyone has a special nice room - I bet he’ll make one special for you” she pumped her eyebrows “- and the cats make like WHATEVER food you want! It’s amazing!”
Essek responded in the slightly shaken way he did whenever he encountered the full force of Jester’s jovial attentions:
“I-I-’m certain that it is. I wouldn’t expect anything less from a talented wizard.” and Essek looked hard at Caleb’s back for a moment and then looked away with a perceptible sadness in his eyes but Jester pushed on as was her way:
“Pro-tip: call all of the cats to come snuggle you. You will never. Sleep. Better.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” Essek said nodding at her and trying to extricate himself from where she had her arms wrapped around his. He floated over to the wall to drift near Beau where he expected he would be left to sit in sullen silence, which was what he wanted. He wanted to observe everything about how Caleb cast this spell. This was the kind of magic he wasn’t particularly familiar with and it was endlessly fascinating. To his surprise he was interrupted by Beau leaning close to him and whispering savagely under her breath:
“If you talk shit about Caleb’s tower, I will fucking kill you. I know you’re a supposed to be amazing and all but it’s clear your opinion matters to him, so you better play nice got it?” Essek visibly deflated in response but whispered back with a surprising intensity.
“I understand that I have not given you much to trust Beauregard, but if there is one thing you can, please trust in my respect for all of your abilities. Even if you believe me to be arrogant, foolish or any other of the myriad of likely accurate and unflattering descriptions you may have in your mind, please know that you have each earned my respect time and time again and Caleb more so than anyone. If anything, I wish to prove my capabilities as an ally to you... not judge yours.” Before Beau could respond, Caduceus (who hears just about everything) put an arm around Essek and spoke.
“That’s nice.” and looked at Essek with a natural sense of hope that Essek couldn’t tolerate so he stared hard into the ground.
“Ready” Caleb said to the group. Those who knew him well picked up on the slight nerves in his voice. It would have been easy to attribute it to the long day of difficult travel, but they were all inclined to think that it was more likely to do with the wizard floating a few feet behind the rest of the group with a curious light filling his eyes. They began to file in and Jester paused at the back of the group to whisper to Caleb conspiratorially:
“Don’t worry. He’s going to like it.” and as she stepped inside, she threw her voice out to obviously and loudly proclaim:
“Oh, Caleb it is as beautiful as always! You are so talented! So amazing! So…” as she paused to look for the next description Veth cut in:
“Truly powerful. One might say a prodigy” She said making eye contact with Essek in a less than kind way before beginning to float upwards.
“Yes!” Jester began as she too started drifting upwards “an absolute prodigy! The best ever!” she feigned swooning and Beau cut her off.
“Yeah, yeah Caleb’s great. We get it. What’s for supper?”
“Uh ja” Caleb started, and he summoned a cat nearby “please prepare a good-sized roast and several -uh- vegetable dishes for our pink friend here and also some black moss cupcakes please.”
“Thank you” Caduceus said and began drifting upwards following the rest of the group. Essek looked like he was about to say something until Fjord shouted:
“UP!” right next to him and nearly caused him to leap out of his skin though he quickly recovered his unflappable mask. Everyone drifted up whilst chatting until it was just Caleb and Essek left on the platform.
“Ah I see.” Essek said as he began drifting up off the platform. “A clever design.”
“I thought that scaling many staircases seemed less than enjoyable after a day of adventuring.” Caleb put in, clearly trying to keep the pleasure at the compliment out of his voice.
“Actually, I was rather inspired by a time we found ourselves in the astral sea briefly.”
“Indeed” Essek said having some experience with the nature of that space. “I don’t believe I have heard that story yet.” He continued.
“Probably you will, some day” Caleb said and Essek could sense that this meant the tale of that particular adventure contained sensitive information, information that Caleb did not trust Essek with and he looked at his floating feet once more, unable to make eye contact with the closest friend he had had in years who was saying in no uncertain terms that he was still not to be trusted completely.
“Ah I see… someday then”.
Caleb didn’t want to leave the mood too low for too long. Afterall, he wanted to tell Essek every detail about those halls and their experiences there, but the happy fun ball seemed like it would probably be more of a temptation than was necessarily a good idea, especially if the two of them could work on it together. So, he began floating on ahead and offered Essek his hand.
“Would you like the tour then?” Essek briefly looked up at Caleb floating above him, stretching his hand down to carry him up to his level and couldn’t help but feel the weight of the visual representation of their situation. Caleb looking down, wreathed in light from above while Essek looked up at him and reached for his hand. It was almost like an art piece and he hated to give in to the symbolism.
Still, he grabbed Caleb’s hand and thought “up” to himself until they were level. Much to his surprise Caleb kept their hands intertwined as they floated up to the first floor and it was almost enough to distract Essek from the beautiful library they found themselves in next. Almost. He was a wizard after all. He couldn’t resist the sight of any good collection of books. Essek quickly moved over to the nearest shelf and began scanning title after title and slowly came to a realization.
“You create this space anew every time, correct? It’s not permanently established?”
“Ja, I create it new every time, though I try to keep it close to the same for the most part.”
“So, all of these… these only exist here meaning that these are simply books that you have memorized?” He said with audible admiration.
“Ja. I have a good mind for storing facts.” and he watched as Essek pulled a book from the shelves and began thumbing through pages and couldn’t help but feel to a certain degree as if he was being tested. Essek saw that these books were not just visual representations or the spines of Caleb’s favourite books but complete volumes, written exactly as they were. He found himself feeling that odd mix of jealousy, admiration and something else that he hadn’t quite pinned down that often-accompanied Caleb’s displays of mental prowess. He looked back at Caleb, and though he had had trouble meeting the fellow wizard’s eyes for days - he did not want to see Caleb’s disappointment - he felt compelled to make strong eye contact now to drive home his point.
“I am considered excellent at what I do. I have a keen mind. But this… this is astounding even to me.” Caleb felt the weight of his eyes on him and felt himself flushing somewhat.  
“Well… this is available to you if you wish to read, though I must let you know that many of them are in my original tongue and plenty of these are repeated. Though I have a great love of reading, I have found that I cannot fill an entire library with only my own knowledge just yet.” Essek waved his hand dismissively and Caleb saw just a small hint of the old, confident Essek peek thorough.
“I have arcane means at my disposal to translate. That is not a problem. I thank you.” He bowed his head slightly and stashed a book under his arm.
“But this is only the first floor? Though I would be happy to remain here in the library if that were your wish, I would gladly see more if you would show me?” Though he masked it well from his voice, Caleb could sense the hunger, the eagerness to see more that was familiar to him. Not for the first time, Caleb longed for simpler times in the other wizard’s tower when there was no betrayal hanging between them, simply peers enjoying the pursuit of knowledge and each other's company. Now even the memory of their victory that day felt tainted with the cost of how Essek had acquired much of his knowledge. Caleb pulled himself out of the spiral and offered:
“There is more to seen to be sure. Come. I’ll show you” and he proffered his hand once again. He knew Essek was perfectly capable of following but there was a small part of Caleb that couldn’t resist the small bit of pleasant contact between them that felt safe and distant enough, at least until he could make up his mind about what to do about Essek. Essek for his part noted the texture of Caleb’s hand, memorizing it and studying his internal reaction for future reference- when he had time to unpack all that was causing him to feel. He also noticed the scars just visible at the bottom of the arm of Caleb’s coat but chose not to interrupt this small precious moment of goodwill with a question that may bring up pain for Caleb.
And so, Caleb showed him the majority of the lower levels, going from place-to-place hand in hand, to a point where both hands were clammy and almost asleep but neither wizard was willing to give up their tenuous bond just yet. Essek thought the summoning space in the hall was “quite a brilliant solution” and Caleb informed Essek that he had had to install tiny locking doors on his cat travel system after Jester’s first polymorph escapade and thank goodness he had for Jester decided to provide Lucien with that little tidbit of advice upon first arriving. This caused Essek to actually laugh out loud which took Caleb by surprise.
“Yes, I am unsurprised by this. Jester is a talented person in her own right, but I would not describe her as pragmatic in any sense of the word.” Essek chuckled again. Caleb stopped and looked down at their joined hands a moment.
“Herr Theylyss, may I ask you something? It may be personal” Essek felt a pit of concern begin turning in his stomach but responded:
“Uh- why yes. I thought you were aware that I have made the decision to be fully -uh honest with you ever since… yes you may.” Caleb noted that Essek was fidgeting with his other hand.
“I had wondered why you seem more comfortable around Jester when it is clear that you still struggle to be at ease around … the rest of us at times? I understand that Jester is very talented at - uh-bringing out the best in people shall we say but… I had wondered…” Essek thought for a moment.
“I believe the answer is twofold. Firstly, Jester was the voice of your group to me for many months. It was through her that I was first annoyed with you all, then simply exasperated and then, I will admit, excited to hear from you. In my perspective she was the voice of my...my first friends. I believe to some degree I still expect her intrusions” He looked away at this “Secondly, I know I disappointed her as I disappointed each of you when I… when my decisions came to light but I can tell that Jester wants to forgive me and believes in the good she sees in me, just as Caduceus has hoped for me but I suppose, with the rest of you, in many ways I know that the damage is done and that the days of eating and drinking in that ridiculous hot tub are well over and I-” he paused to collect his thoughts “though I know I deserve it, it can be difficult to face that our bonds will never be what I was hoping they would be.” Essek hadn’t met Caleb’s eyes through this whole speech but a visible dark purple flush was creeping across his features.
“Ah I see.” Caleb began, “yes Jester’s capacity for seeing the positives in life is an admirable quality but” Caleb touched Essek’s chin feather light and turned his face towards him. “You do us a disservice if you think that each of us does not hold hope that you will redeem yourself or see the best in you. You would not be here if we didn’t but I have already told you… it takes time.” Both of them thought back to the moment of his discovery when Caleb managed to stop an oncoming panic attack in its tracks with a kiss on the forehead and his stalwart belief in Essek’s capacity to redeem himself. Looking into his eyes now, Essek saw something almost worse than his worst fear and the reason he been avoiding Caleb’s gaze. He had expected to see disappointment, sadness or even derision in Caleb’s eyes but instead he saw a warmth and a genuine affection that he felt undeserving of. It was never something he had seen before from anyone else; not in the eyes of his parents or siblings, the bright queen, or even his students that viewed him with adoration. Caleb had looked at him that way a few times before but Essek had not dared to hope that look remained after his deceptions were revealed. He felt a wetness swelling in his eyes, but he couldn't pull his gaze away, desperately catching every last second of affection that he could. Caleb was glad to see behind Essek’s carefully laid mask to know that he was being heard and heard truly. He ran his thumb over the soft purple skin along Essek’s jaw.
“Time.” He reiterated. Then he pulled his gaze away and broke them both out of the moment. He dropped Essek’s hand, afraid he’d clench too tightly if he didn’t, taken by a swarm of his own emotions of hurt, betrayal, and still warm caring and concern “I better leave you a little time before supper to clean up ja? Come. I will show you your room.” Essek didn’t say anything but simply nodded, hoping to clamber his mask of semi-indifference back into place.
They got to the landing with all of the doors to the individual bedrooms and both caught a glance into Yasha’s bedroom where Jester could be seen to be braiding Yasha’s hair in a particularly spectacular updo.
“Do you think Beau will like it?” Yasha wondered while looking in the mirror.
“Oh Yasha! She will love it!” Jester started a whole torrent of compliments before Caleb opened the door to the guest bedroom and both of them were distracted by the reveal.
Caleb had a tense knot in his stomach as Essek cautiously stepped, or floated rather, forward. He had hoped that this room could act as a small kind of gift, to show Essek that he still held space for him.
It was a chamber much like the rest of the bedrooms with its bathtub and fireplace, but Caleb had modified the architecture to be more reminiscent of Xhorhos, more specifically the design Caleb had seen in Essek’s tower. The furniture was inspired by that as well, though in different arrangements to accommodate the layout. Fine silver instruments laid upon the desk. Wall hangings precisely as they had appeared in Essek’s tower. There was space for mucking about and chalkboards for scribbling out theories. There was a small library space that was empty save for the books Caleb placed in every room and the large comfortable reading chair in the deep blue velvet that Caleb remembered, with the important distinction that this reading nook had two reading chairs as opposed to the one in Essek’s original study. Caleb watched as Essek floated from place to place taking in the details.
“Uh-ja” he interjected as Essek moved toward the desk. “I only included instruments I could recall from the limited view of your tower I had but if you require more, I have a study and lab that I share with Veth that you are welcome to share with us if you should have anything you wish to work on.” Essek moved over to touch one of the velvet chairs and Caleb cut in again:
“I have – that is- I know what it is like to be far from a patriot but to still miss home so I thought I could include a few familiar touches” Essek nodded silently, and Caleb worried he may have missed the mark.  Essek finally spoke near the bed:
“I haven’t used a bed in many years. I typically just trance at the desk in my study.”
“I was worried you’d say that” Caleb said rushing forward in a fervor that he only acquired when he’d had a particularly exciting idea “thus I have innovated something for wizards everywhere. This will save our necks and shoulders” He tugged on a cord by the bed and revealed on the roof of the four poster was a chalkboard with a floating bit of chalk. He laid down excitedly and pointed up and continued “it works much like transit throughout the space. Simply think what you wish, and the chalk will begin to draw” and the chalk began drawing the figures related to fortunes favor from Caleb’s notes. “This way you may think and rest your body at the same time.” Essek was craning to look up at the chalk board with a small look of amusement glowing in his eyes. It truly was a good idea but far better was the excitement in his friend that accompanied it.
“Truly inspired” he affirmed and began peering around the rest of the space when his eyes landed on the stained glass above the fireplace. Essek floated over to peer at it and Caleb sat up to watch him. The stained glass depicted the Xorhaus as the nein affectionately called the home Essek’s Den had gifted them during their time in Xorhos, with the tree growing up out of it with it’s glittering branches. And in the house could be seen 8 colourful figures sitting around a hot tub. All of the mighty nein were silhouetted in their signature colours and in the very centre were two male silhouettes looking at one another. One purple and one orange. They seemed to be laughing in their pose. Below this there was a scroll that read “Welcome to the Mighty Nein!”.
Essek’s feet hit the floor with a loud thud as he stared at this stained-glass piece. Caleb had never seen Essek lose concentration in his levitating outside of a fight before and instinctually stood up. Essek looked over and then down at his feet somewhat embarrassed.
“My apologies, uh, I just didn’t expect…” and he moved to begin the spell again.
“You have nothing to prove to me Essek.” Caleb cut him off and essek let the spell die, looking back up to the stained glass.
“I had hoped to provide you a sense of home here, but I apologize if I misjudged or over stepped. I had already designed that stained glass before our discussion earlier and I see now that it may be more harmful than helpful. Tomorrow night I can-
“It is perfect.” Essek said quietly as he stepped, actually stepped, towards Caleb, looking as if he was searching for the right thing to say before landing on:
“Thank you. I am humbled by your insight and your skill.” Caleb looked uncomfortable at such high praise and stood, uncertain what to do with himself for several moments before he began moving toward the door.
“Supper in the dining room in fifteen minutes” he said, fleeing all of the feelings that Essek’s presence had caused.
Essek spent the next fifteen minutes in quiet contemplation about the feeling of one hand in another until he heard Caleb shouting as he descended from his room:
“Supper is ready. Please come down everyone.”
Essek opened his door as the other’s spilled onto the landing as well. He heard a massive noise from upstairs roughly the direction Caleb had specified for the lab and everyone paused to look up until Veth leaned out the door with ash covering her face and said:
“I’ll be down in 5 minutes!”
“Is everything alright?” Fjord asked semi-suspiciously.
“Absolutely! Everything is fine. Perfectly and absolutely fine.” smoke was billowing out of the door and dissipating. “I just need five minutes for um...lady stuff. BE RIGHT DOWN!” she shouted as she slammed the door closed again. The rest of the mighty nein seemed to shrug somewhat to Essek’s dismay:
“Should we help her?” he enquired.
“She’s more likely to bite than accept help she hasn’t asked for” Fjord chuckled. “She does this from time to time. I’m sure it’s fine. Besides, I’m starving”. Fjord wrapped an arm around Jester and hopped off the landing and said “Down!” and they began descending. Essek could hear Jester going:
“Oh Oskar! You are so strong” and the beginnings of Fjord’s protest at the jibe.
Meanwhile Beau and Yasha were squaring off and Essek wasn’t certain if they were likely to kiss or fight or both.
“You look...really good Yasha.”
“You like it? I had never tried this style in my hair before.”
“Essek, tell Caleb we’re skipping dinner.” Beau said with some fervor
“What-” Essek began before his question was answered by Beau pulling Yasha into her room and slamming the door. “Ah… I see”. A sudden thud could be heard from the otherside of the door and Essek did not wish to question what had caused it. Suddenly a large hand was patting him on the shoulder.
“You get used to it” Caduceus said.
“What is that?”
“Being a part of something.” Caduceus finished with another pat on the shoulder, then he began to descend for supper as if he hadn’t said something that hit Essek at his very core.
They had a pleasant supper all together and planned some tactics for the next day before everyone adjourned to their various places of rest for the night. Essek went over to the library and collected an armful of books. Frumkin appeared through a little gap in the wall and Essek leaned down to him.
“Do you have a message from your master?” he said hopefully. Frumkin just butted up against him looking to be pet.
“Do you require something?” Frumkin flopped at Essek’s feet. In this moment alone, he smiled a small smile for the cat that contained none of his usual bravado. He crouched down to pet Frumkin exceedingly gently. After a few moments Frumkin was purring loudly.
“I’m glad we are still good friends at least” Essek sighed. “Do you wish to enjoy some reading with me?” Frumkin gave a slight meow that seemed like a yes and Essek picked him up and placed him on his shoulder giving him a little nuzzle on the way. They began to ascend to Essek’s room and Caleb watched them go. He felt somewhat disappointed in himself for this scheme, particularly after seeing Essek’s sweet nature with his cat, but he would not be fooled twice.
Once safely in his room Caleb watched Essek through frumkin’s eyes. He watched and waited and expected some sort of betrayal though he did not hope for one. He waited until everyone else had gone to bed and Essek was the only one remaining awake. He had expected Essek may message someone, scry or even perhaps begin taking notes of the tower. In that whole time Essek had done nothing but read and cast comprehend languages. Eventually Caleb realized he wasn’t going to do anything else. He wasn’t going to betray them. He then spent the better part of an hour wrestling with himself and doing a good amount of internal reflection before coming to a decision. He went down to knock quietly on Essek’s door.
“Yes?” Essek asked, coming to the door in the least precisely put together look Caleb had ever seen from the wizard. His hair was amuck in places, his robe was gone and the shirt beneath was half untucked and he had the slight dark purple imprint on his cheek where he had been leaning his hand. It made him look more approachable than his typical visage as the “Shadowhand”. Perhaps more endearing too.Caleb also noted he wasn’t floating and wondered if that was to do with his earlier comment.
“Have you happened to have seen my cat?” Caleb enquired. Essek was not fooled by the pretense, knowing that Caleb could summon Frumkin at will, but played along.
“Ah my apologies, I have been detaining him to keep me company while I read.” At this Frumkin ran out of the door and began weaving between Caleb’s legs.
“So, this is where you were?” Caleb enquired of him in mock surprise.
“Yes, well it seemed fitting to have him around while reading my first empire fairy tales about such a one.” Essek said brandishing the book.
“You read der katzenprinz?” Caleb asked, legitimately surprised. He had assumed that Essek would have immediately gravitated towards the arcane books.
“I started with another regarding transmutation but this one seemed a bit of an odd one out in the collection so I assumed it must be of some importance to you…” Essek paused getting slightly embarrassed and then noticing how long they had been standing in the doorway.
“Would you like to come in?”
“Actually, I had a thought, if you are too tired, we don’t have to but,” he looked almost pained and rubbed his hand across his mouth and he seemed to make a decision or resolve himself “but we had not quite finished our tour I think.”
“Oh” Essek was somewhat surprised but still eager. “Yes absolutely. Lead the way.” He placed the book on a nearby table while Frumkin ran to his exit in a hole in the wall. As they began to ascend. Essek spoke up softly:
“Is there a reason that Fjord always declares his direction?”
“Other than showmanship? Absolutely not.” Caleb replied.  At this Essek grinned while Caleb opened up the next level.
“I ask that you never come up here without me please Herr Theylyss. Please” he repeated while making pointed eye contact.
“Of course. Whatever it is your wish.” Essek responded genuinely but somewhat surprised as they came to a room full of doors. “What is this place?”
Caleb did not reply but instead said:
“I have only shown the others of the mighty nein this place.” and he opened the door labelled 1. Caleb closed the door behind them as Essek stepped into the humble space and began looking around.
“What is the significance of this house?” He asked before noting the far off look in Caleb’s face.
“Well, I wanted you to know why I found your choices so challenging to ignore. I wanted you to know why it is that I seem to understand so deeply the challenges you face in learning to forgive yourself for what you have done for it is still something I struggle with myself. Deeply.” Essek could sense the gravity of the space for Caleb and came closer.
“I wish you  for to know, as I know your greatest transgression, but you do not know mine and it seems there is an unfair imbalance between us  of late that I  hope to dispel.” Essek was surprised that Caleb thought there was anything comparable to his “transgression” as he put it but thought back to some of the sadness in Caleb and some of the truth in his eyes whenever he talked about the path ahead of Essek and knew there must be something  substantial coming.
“This was my home. I am sure it may be challenging for you to imagine ,coming from such a high-ranking family, but we were happy here.”
“Wealth does not inherently create happy families. In fact, I think it is likely the opposite” Essek put in softly. Caleb nodded and pointed to the small kitchen counter:
“My mother used to make bread here. She used to allow me to take small portions of the dough while she was kneading it and I would make little figures. I would -uh- use them as puppets and tell her stories of magnificent wizards who saved all of the empire from the evil creatures that threatened it. She would turn them into small buns when I was finished and told me that if I ate them, it was like making a wish, and that one day I might become that powerful wizard.” Caleb touched the surface of the table and closed his eyes for a long moment. Essek tentatively put a hand on his shoulder which remained until Caleb went over to the hearth.
“This is where I learned to love fire. My father would feed the flames and show me how to keep it well. He’d tell me that fire could hurt and burn but it could also sustain life. Once I became old enough to manage without harming myself, he let me create the fire every night to practice. Later I practiced control flames here, the first spell I ever learned from a spell book.” Caleb turned to Essek and held his gaze. Essek saw the shame and pain that was written in Caleb’s features.
“You have killed many good people in your thirst for knowledge and power. I … I am no different. I killed good, loving people who only wished that I could have been the powerful wizard who saved the empire… “Caleb swallowed and realization sunk in for Essek. “I killed my family and destroyed this home as a result of Trent Ikathon’s teaching methods. It was seen as a ‘required step in becoming the capable wizards we needed to be to protect our nation’. Still to this day he attests that it is what my family would have wanted though I don’t think our stories in the kitchen could have ever prepared them for their end.” Caleb paused attempting to collect himself. His hands were shaking a great deal, but he pushed forward “I have only just begun the journey to forgiving myself. I keep this room here, not to torture myself but to ensure that this happy home is never forgotten, never lost. Each room on this floor is a moment to be captured and preserved. I will show you another.” A few tears had fallen on Caleb’s face, but he did not seem to notice. Essek didn’t have feel he had an adequate response, but he did not want to leave this space without saying anything.
“You have performed your own dunemancy here. You fixed this in time. It is beautiful. Thank you for showing it to me.” Essek said, hoping he did not say the wrong thing. He had very limited experience with people he would consider loved ones and he had never lost one. Caleb didn’t say anything, but he nodded a thank you and pulled Essek across the hall to another room. It was Caleb’s bedroom in the xorhaus. Essek recognized it immediately by the charming cat figurines on the shelf.
“This was the space where you first entrusted me with dunamancy but I did not preserve it for this reason… I did so because it was the first time we worked together, and I realized you were very much someone I wished to know more. I saw a like mind in you...Essek, I understand exactly what the cost of knowledge and power can be and the folly of chasing them, you have seen this now, but I also understand that draw, that pull of power in a way almost no one else will. I know how easy it is to slip off the path and become a tool for destruction once more, and this is why I find it difficult to fully trust you as you have proven to me that we are too similar, and I do not trust myself even with that.” He had finally said it out loud. Essek had been hanging on the word trust ever since Caleb had said he was more trusted than Trent Ikathon, but here it was. More did not mean much at all. And how could Essek blame him when he was correct? They were very much alike, that was one of the things that had drawn Essek in and convinced Essek to teach Caleb dunamancy against his better judgement. Essek looked and stared at a cat figurine, willing his breath to slow, his eyes to focus. He did not understand what it was particularly that hurt him so much about Caleb having a perfectly, reasonably low opinion of him.
Caleb saw Essek beginning to have difficulty containing his emotions and he closed the space between them to once again place a small kiss on Essek’s forehead before placing his own against it. He put a hand around Essek’s neck gently pulling them together.  
“I have said it takes time and I believe that. My path out of the pit did not move straight forward and I had many setbacks, but I have begun the journey. I did so by taking small steps -and sometimes large ones - every day to leave the world slightly better than I found it.  I will never expunge my past crimes, but I can hope to maybe outweigh them in my overall impact on this world. I see you at the beginning of this journey and I know that one of the most important things in the path to redemption was having companions who walked alongside me on my way to finding it. Having the mighty nein who cared for me and loved me unconditionally, despite these terrible pieces of my past was so...essential… in my ability to begin to overcome them.” His whole body seemed to be sagging with the weight of the world and he pulled away to look in into his eyes “Essek, I know it is easy to see only our faults and everything we have done wrong, but I also know that I am still worthy of forgiveness by some, I am still worthy of friendship and chances to redeem myself and even still worthy of love. And I do not believe this myself many days but Veth and the rest of the nein refuse to allow me to forget it and on days when my belief is not enough, theirs is. And that makes me wish to strive to continue to be worthy of their belief in me. You see?”
Essek was nodding but Caleb could see he was drowning in all of his thoughts.
“Come. I have one more room to show you.” He said gently and walked out of this room. Essek blinked and felt the suddenly jarring distance between them and followed Caleb out of the room. His mind was a swarm.
Caleb placed his hands out for Essek who looked at him somewhat quizzically but took them, nonetheless. They floated up while facing one another to the final floor and Caleb revealed it to him. The floor inspired by dunamancy. Essek’s jaw dropped, and his head swivelled as he took in the room.
“It is no secret that I have a great interest in your craft, but I bring you up here not to remind you of all the power to be gained or lost but to show you of what you already have. You have unlocked so many secrets of the world, but you were never given the chance to study the most important lesson. One that also eluded me for many years. All of this “Caleb gestured out” feels so important, the stretching endless expanse of time and the motes of possibility that we can affect. But” he said firmly “It is not nearly as important as the moment we are living right now, and the people that we share that with.” Essek peeled his eyes off the expanse around them and turned his attention back to Caleb who was looking at him with an expression that he had only seen once before as they unlocked the key to the transmogrification spell. It was a mix of adrenaline, elation, apprehension and excitement. Caleb was building up to something and all Essek could do was be shocked that he was floating in this space of utter beauty and being looked at like that, as if he were the most important thing in the room, as if he was a great spell Caleb was trying to learn the inner workings of.
He began to understand the lesson Caleb was trying to impart as he could not pull his eyes away, despite being surrounded by a veritable playground for his mind, his focus was solely affixed to Caleb and what he would say next. He understood what Caleb meant to say with this room about what really mattered in a way that surprised even Essek himself. Caleb tightened his grasp on Essek’s hands and continued.
“If you will allow me to, herr Theylyss, I wish to do for you what has been done for me. I wish to be the person that reminds you that you can and will find your way back to the light. I wish to be the person who believes in you when you cannot believe in yourself, though I suspect I already have Jester’s help with that.” he quirked a small smile “ I wish to be the one who keeps you in the moment and moving forward. I wish to hold your hand” and he looked down at their joined hands “through your journey to finding yourself.” He squeezed their hands together tightly and then he looked back up with nerves clattering “Essek, you are important to me and I have felt a bond with you since the first time we studied together.  That has not gone or broken the way you seem to believe. You have hurt me, yes, but I am still here to hold your hand and hoping that you will prove that my forgiveness is not for nothing. Hoping that you will find a way to be prove that all of this love that I feel for you is not unjustified... for I do not wish for it go to waste.” He searched Essek’s expression and found it unreadable.
Years of practice freezing his face in moments of panic had caused Essek to almost completely shut down while he attempted to process a response. He pulled away from Caleb slightly and sought to pull his hands into a robe he realized he wasn’t wearing. He wished he could hide how his hands were inclined to fidget.
“I uh-” He began “This is much to process.” Essek stammered out. Caleb was already feeling disappointment seep in. He knew that he had thrown a lot of uncomfortable feelings at Essek in a short amount of time, but he had hoped that there would be at least a degree of enthusiasm for his final declaration. Still, he did not want to pressure Essek.
“Of course.” Caleb said failing to hide his disappointment. “I will leave you to your thoughts Herr Theylyss” he said nodding in a formal way.
Essek was still simply busy processing the word love. He was turning it over in his mind and examining it as it was a fully novel concept to him. He tested out how it felt as a description of that odd feeling of warmth in his chest and stomach when he saw Caleb get excited, or smile, or that small tug at an invisible rope in his chest that could be felt when he saw Caleb being good at, well, almost anything. He considered if that had been why Caleb’s opinion had mattered so much more than most. And here he was, standing before Essek and telling him that he could have that love returned. That he felt that way about him. That he was somehow deserving despite all of the things that he had done.
He thought then how he had felt nothing but sympathy and sorrow for Caleb as he heard of what he had done to his parents. He did not blame him for his foolishness in trusting and believing in the things Trent Ikathon had said. Could Essek really be given the same grace?
Around the time that Caleb was just beginning to descend out of the room, Essek’s mind finally caught up with what he had said.
“No!” Essek shouted. “No. No. I did not mean it this way. I just-“ Essek took a breath and felt the mask slipping away and for once he allowed himself to be laid bare in front of someone. Caleb rose back up to his level. “I don’t know if I have ever been loved in the way that you have described. It simply took me a moment to understand. You spoke of loving parents, but I have never been more than a means to end for my family. I was a product of incredible amounts of pressure but never loving care or attention. I was to be useful. Then I became the shadowhand and I had to be distant from the rest. It was my duty to be useful to the bright queen, but it only alienated me further from my peers. It made it easy to betray them when the chance was offered because I had never been close with any of them. I regret so much of what I have done, all the pain that I have caused” Essek grabbed at his own hair and Caleb was surprised to see him allowing himself to be this expressive “but it is made far worse now knowing what friendship and love can be like. To think that I caused people to go off and fight in a war that did not matter and worse that both sides felt losses comparable to what I would feel if you were to be harmed. It feels almost unbearable to know that I could have caused that much pain” Essek began sputtering, tears streaming down his face. “And still, you stand before me and say that I am worthy of redemption and that I am worthy of love?” Essek was ranting now but it was as if so many of the feelings he had always held down couldn’t help but burst forth now that they were given a small bit of freedom. Caleb wrapped his arms around him and held him close, with one hand stroking his hair. Essek rambled on “you had it right when you said I had missed an essential lesson along the way. How could I have been so blinded by my research and studies to never see that the people they would benefit were the point, not knowledge for knowledge’s own sake? And still, you hold me as if I am something precious rather than wretched. It is a kindness greater than I deserve for truthfully, I can tell that you know the weight of what you have done, but until today, until now, I still had never comprehended the depths of the pain my actions caused… to so many.”
At this Essek dissolved into sobs and Caleb held him through them. He kept stroking Essek’s hair and gave him small soft kisses on the top of his hair and waited for the sobbing to peter out. He did everything he wished someone could have done for him when he was going through this. Eventually it seemed Essek had cried himself out. He was still shaking and there were tear lines stained into his purple skin, but he pulled himself back a little to look at Caleb. Before Essek could apologize again Caleb said again:
“It takes time.” Essek nodded sadly and put his hand out for Caleb who clasped it and kissed it his knuckles lightly. “But.” Caleb continued “that does not mean you must spend it alone. I meant what I said. If you wish to be loved and reminded of all the things you are worth and what makes the moment worth living in, I am happy to offer that to you. And perhaps together we can work to make the world a little bit better than when we found it ja? So no other young people go unloved or get led astray?”
Essek was still feeling a whole spectrum of emotions but was able to centre himself enough to unabashedly meet Caleb’s eyes and spoke.
“Yes, I think I would very much like to do that, but with one stipulation.” Caleb smiled at the return of some of Essek’s former, confident demeanor “I know you have many in your life with more experience in affection than I, but I would like to offer my love, as … untested as it imay be, in trade. Together we can hypothesize,experiment and test its bounds until you believe it is up to your standards? Do these conditions seem fair to you?” Caleb was smiling in a way that made Essek pleased, and caused him to consider being reckless once more.
“Ja I think that is accepta-” and before Caleb could finish, Essek pulled him into a kiss. He wrapped his arms around Caleb’s waist and Caleb’s hands found their way into Essek’s hair. They kissed deeply and with the release of the many conflicting emotions both of them had felt over the past weeks.
Essek found the texture of Caleb’s lips and stubble to be a bit surprising but planned on savouring every bit of the feeling. He approached this kiss almost like learning a new spell from Caleb, and followed his lead through the unfamiliar, for though Essek had kissed before, never with much feeling behind it, and this was an entirely different experience. His heart was pounding in his ears, his chest felt full of fireworks and there was something that felt hooked inside of both of them, drawing them closer. It was a startling powerful sensation.
Caleb was surprised not only by the kiss but by the intensity it quickly developed. He felt Essek’s hands pushing into his back and keeping him close, and the soft strands of essek’s hair moving beneath his fingers and the warmth of Essek’s lips and was intoxicated, drinking in every last bit of the experience that he could.
Finally, they broke apart, both flushed and breathing heavily. Essek found himself smoothing down the front of Caleb’s shirt for something to do and pulling a few pieces of cat hair off of it as he asked:
“May I ask something of your path to redemption?” He continued to try to compose his features but couldn’t resist the smile that kept making itself known on his face. It was a broader smile than Caleb had ever seen on Essek and it made his chest squeeze. He thought it would be a new mission of his to procure that smile more often.
“Yes Essek?”
“If we do not have to be alone, are we also allowed happiness? For I must admit that I think this is the happiest I have been in… sometime, perhaps ever.” Caleb thought and looked serious.
“I think so yes. I have to believe that is so.”
“In that case, I think we should kiss more often.” And at that Caleb laughed a full and genuine laugh and kissed Essek on the cheek following by cupping his face in his hands, allowing his thumb draw over the spot that was just kissed.
“Ja. That can certainly be arranged.” and he pulled Essek’s face down for another kiss on the forehead. “But for tonight I think it best if we both get some rest.” He grabbed Essek’s hand once more and descended into the tower, closing doorways behind them until they stopped at Essek’s room.
“I think I may need some time to wind down after all of that” Essek admitted.
“I think I shall be similar.” Caleb agreed.
“In that case, do you wish to read a while with me? Only I had noticed someone had placed 2 chairs in my reading nook.” Essek said with a conspiratorial smile. Caleb seemed to debate with himself a moment before coming in.
“But if I do not recover my spells, I will have to blame you Theylyss.”
“These terms are acceptable to me” Essek replied with a smile that belied his serious tone. And they each took an armchair and began reading, with their hands held between them.
Eventually Essek awoke from a trance he hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen into. His book had fallen into his lap and his hand had drifted out of Caleb’s somewhere in the night. He only required a short trance to be rested but Caleb would need more sleep and was currently snoring lightly from his armchair. Essek cautiously placed both of their books aside and used his levitation spell to float Caleb gently over to the bed. He tucked Caleb in and gave him the gentlest kiss on the forehead and then used the chalkboard above the bed to scrawl I was worried about your neck and shoulders which he felt had just the right amount of cheeky touch.
Essek pondered getting into the bed as well but felt it may be too presumptuous, so instead he sat at the desk at his study and began writing out the events of the night, hoping to capture it’s every detail. Though he had a good memory, he hoped to preserve this turning point for himself the way Caleb preserved history in his rooms upstairs. So, he wrote while Caleb slept.
When the hustle and bustle of the others moving about the tower finally awoke Caleb, he had the moment of concern that arises when waking in a different spot than where you fell asleep, until he saw the message above the bed and smiled to himself.
“The world better watch out if one kiss is all it takes to get Essek Theylyss to start writing jokes” Caleb called out to the room.
Essek came over, looking somehow more perfect than ever this morning (Caleb being unaware that Essek had fussed by the mirror for 20 minutes for the perfectly tousled look…) and handed Caleb a coffee that he had summoned via the cat system. Caleb took it gratefully as he sat up in bed and Essek came to sit next to him on the edge of the bed.
“Imagine what will happen after 2,3 or even 100 kisses?” Caleb continued his jibe. Essek simply raised an eyebrow at him:
“I suppose we will have to test it to find out.”  
“I suppose we will” Caleb replied with a grin.
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bard-llama · 4 years
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WiP List
This is gonna be looooong (like, REALLY long), so I’mma go ahead and give you a cut here. But if you’re interested in what i’m working on, take a look!
Order purely based on the order my tabs are in. I’m only counting WiPs that actually have more than a paragraph written, because if I didn’t, this list would be even longer. Also, pls don’t judge me but what I name my WiPs 😂
Post-Coital Smoke
Kinda what it sounds like tbh. I just wanted Iorveth getting high and admiring Roche’s body and then Roche decided to be a tease. At some point, I assume there will be sex.
Angst: Sex object Roche
Iorveth’s POV of realizing that Roche hurts himself whenever he flirts at Iorveth. Premise is that Roche has been groomed (intentionally or not) by Foltest to be his. So when he feels attraction towards Iorveth, he needs to be punished. And obviously Iorveth helps him learn that no, that’s not okay and idk recovery???
Midwinter Feast
This idea was 100% spawned by me trying to write holiday fics, but Foltest hosts a Midwinter Feast where they close the city for 12 days, leaving Roche to get along with the Nonhuman/Scoia’tael(ish) delegation during that time. Also, Foltest might be using the feast as a delaying tactic to resupply his army. I legit have no idea where this is going, I just thought the idea of Roche and Iorveth stuck at a feast for 12 days was funny.
Solstice Feast aka To Birth a Verdant Future
This was actually an xmas gift for @lutes-and-dandelions, but I havent finished it yet 😓 But the premise is similar to the former in that it’s another solstice feast. But it’s set post-W3 with Emhyr as Emperor throwing a party in the new conquered capital of Vizima. Roche broods a lot about Foltest’s memory and how he hates Emhyr and decides to distract himself by hanging out with Iorveth and suggesting they follow an old elven tradition. And that’s all I’ll say. XD
Next Year (Solstice Feast sequel)
Literally set the next year. This time they merge their lives by merging their people’s traditions.
Lily Preserved in Amber
Okay, haven’t gotten very far in this, but I decided it was an elven rite of passage to go searching through the forest for a sign of your future. And Iorveth finds a piece of amber with a lily preserved inside. I haven’t decided if it purely means Roche or if it means his whole family with Roche and Boussy and Anais and all. So far, he hasn’t even found the amber yet lmao. But he did just discover music!
Character taking control of the other and Character B just letting go and enjoying themselves
Under the subheading “Porn Snips”, so uh, yeah. Starts with Roche and Iorveth fighting to decide who gets to top, involves Roche getting choked, and Iorveth ripping Roche’s pants off. Oh, also, they’re currently at a fancy party hiding somewhere in the garden lmao
Based on @moonlights-ordinance‘s art
Moonlight’s working on an adorable piece where Roche leans his forehead against Iorveth’s back between his shoulderblades. I decided to make it post-W3 with both of them working as paper pushers/administrators under Emhyr’s Temeria. And Nilfgaard does not believe in chairs with backs (or, really, Emhyr wanted to see how long Roche’s pride would make him suffer. It’s a long time). The idea is to show development over time as they slowly get more comfortable with touch and start using each other as backrests. And then the sweet scene Moonlight is drawing.
Eliza for @useless-empty-brain aka Can’t We All Just Get Oolong?
Next is Iorveth’s POV, but I legit cannot figure out where to start. But we’re gonna see some of his thoughts (like how Eliza volunteered him to stay in Vizima for an unspecified period of time and he said yes even though he can’t and now has to commute regularly because he doesn’t want to miss tea with Roche but also doesn’t want Roche’s spies to catch on lmao) and his curiosity about Roche and Foltest and what Roche’s mission is (which I... totally know.)
Roche’s Scars
@moonlights-ordinance sent me a great pic of a mod for Roche where he had some pretty vicious scarring/mutilation. So of course I decided I needed to tell the story of each one. But really, it’s a story about the stages of acceptance with scars. Both Iorveth and Roche start out hiding theirs, but eventually come to reveal them comfortably in public.
Vernon Roche of the Scoia’tael aka The Value of a Man
Does my title give it away? Oops? So, this is a found family fic where Roche is captured by the Scoia’tael and the elves and dwarves slowly come to see him as - well, I was gonna say human, but as a person, I guess. And start feeling really, really guilty, especially when some not great things happen to Roche. 
Oh also, Foltest is a giant dick and uh, SPOILERS he does not try to get Roche back. Which leads to a whole subplot that will end with a found family for EVERYONE, because they all deserve to be happy dammit.
All of that was just one document lmao. I have 24 documents, some of which have quite a few WiPs in them. 😱
Kiss Prompts
24. Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer. AKA How to Fluster an Elf
When I got the idea for How to Fluster an Elf, I decided it was gonna fill the prompt dammit. And then it really, really expanded on me.
33. An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.
Roche dreams occasionally that Iorveth visits him and watches over him and sometimes speaks, but he can’t understand Elder Speech, so he assumes it’s all gibberish.
Then he finds out it’s not and suddenly he’s not so certain it’s a dream
16. One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.
Okay, I literally just need to buckle down and write some good kissing. This is set in (Im)Perfect Strangers and Iorveth is pouting about them leaving the gardens, so Roche makes it up to him.
25. Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain.
This one won’t actually be published with the kisses ‘cause it’s porn and the rest are T-rated lol. Buuuut Roche and Iorveth are trying to have a secret liaison in the forest when the rain starts. Featuring nature magic, tentacles, and Iorveth getting filled.
Scenes from Another World (aka AU premise)
Old Men in Vergen
Set during Witcher 3, but with an established relationship. Roche comes to visit Iorveth in Vergen to ask for advice on leading an insurgency. Iorveth just wants to feed Roche while he can now that he’s not the one starving in the woods.
Language Aphasia/Deal with the Devil
I wanted to write Gaunter! So I decided that Gaunter is in a mood for some mischief (he calls it being generous) and comes upon a traveling Vernon Roche who wishes that he could be understand Iorveth. Then Iorveth’s Scoia’tael find a passed out Roche in the woods and bring him to Iorveth for judgement. Only somehow, Roche only understands Elder Speech now. He can’t understand Common at all. The Scoia’tael find this very offensive and Iorveth is mostly freaked out that someone who can do THAT was wandering around his forest.
Bunk Beds: The Portrait of Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon
Based on a silly comic, Ciri convinces Iorveth and Roche to try to help her destroy the portrait. Geralt gets pissed and sends them to Bunk Bed Exile. Shenanigans ensue and somehow they start to get along.
Iorveth’s Scoia’tael Giving Him Shit For His Taste in Men aka The Lovestruck Fox
Right now, working on a piece from the POV of a new Scoia’tael recruit who is discovering that Iorveth’s Scoia’tael roast the fuck out of him over his crush on Roche. 
Speaking of, anyone have suggestions on prime roast material? I am not this creative.
Let’s Torture Roche!
No, really. This one is pretty dark. And told in kind of a different style than my usual, because I felt like it. So, premise is that Iorveth and Roche were a thing in the past, but then Roche was recalled to Foltest’s side and he went. So Iorveth is understandably pretty hurt and pissed (this was decided for a prompt of someone breaking down as soon as they’re behind closed doors). Buuut what he doesn’t know is that Roche is not with Foltest of his own volition. Hostages, blackmail, and torture are all involved and Foltest is a pretty horrible guy. But of course we need a happy ending, so eventually, Iorveth will rescue Roche and they get to recover together.
Life Debt aka Iorveth is an Asshole
The concept for this was that Roche saved Iorveth’s life and now that they were no longer enemies (set during Witcher 3), his honor demands that he follow Roche around until he can repay the favor. Featuring Iorveth being a trolling asshole, correcting the new Temerian Loyalist’s fighting abilities, and Roche being very, very tired. 
In application, it’s mostly angst so far, ‘cause I had to set up HOW Roche saved Iorveth’s life. And then I decided to really hurt Iorveth. But tbh I will probably skip ahead after establishing this stuff, because I just want shenanigans.
King and Country
I’ve got several WiPs for this one, including the Stripes’ recruitment, their decision to change sides, the Stripes being double agents, and of course, Iorveth and Roche’s developing relationship. But hey, I’ve skipped ahead to writing their wedding already, so... you know it ends happily ever after?
Friday Fight Night for Jan 29 (which I did not make oops)
So, this actually turned into a long piece that’s gonna be part of my Chronic Pain series. Basically, King Foltest is treating with the leaders of the Scoia’tael in Temeria and Iorveth is one of them. Unfortunately, he’s having a REALLY BAD pain day, but he’s also determined to be there to represent his people. Roche helps him see sense. Possibly forcefully.
Exhaustion Prompts
“If we’re both in this state, we both really screwed up somewhere huh?”
Iorveth and Roche are trapped in a dream and I got a little stuck creating the creature that trapped them there. But pretty sure Saskia is gonna interrupt their flirting by saving them.
“You were almost dead from pushing it too far!”
In which Roche has a heart attack from too much coffee. Yeah. He’s okay, though! But PT is about to blow a gasket and coffee will very much be disallowed.
Found Family Prompts
Taking Out the Trash for @useless-empty-brain
Literally a story about taking out the trash lmao. We’re gonna see if I can make this intersting.
Touch Starved for @mochii-girl
Honestly, haven’t gotten much done on this yet, but I’m thinking puppy pile cuddles in Corvo Bianco
Coffeeshop AU aka Brewing Romance and Dissent
Ooof I’ve got a lot of bits and pieces of this written, but nothing quite finished, except for the moment when things change from “we flirt as I order coffee” to “I make you special drinks and invite you to come visit me after hours”. Writing a canon coffeeshop au when I know shit all about coffee is HARD.
Curse Breaking
Omg this is one of the first WiPs I started for Iorveth/Roche, no joke. STILL WORKING ON IT! The premise is that Roche finds a feverish and dying Iorveth in an empty Scoia’tael camp, saves him with the power of True Love’s Kiss The Power of Strong Emotions, Like That Which You Might Have For Your Enemy. Then they team up to go save Iorveth’s Scoia’tael from a big bad mage and Roche invites Triss along for the ride, which totally doesn’t make Iorveth jealous. I kinda stalled out at the part where they reach the mage’s hideout and see the results of the mages failed experiments. On Iorveth’s people. It’s gonna hurt. A lot. But afterwards, there might be makeouts. And some sort of implication that they’re all down to do this (minus the horrible, traumatic parts) again.
Roche POV bloodplay
Roche’s POV starting from before his first encounter with Iorveth. Then he has a weirdly sexually arousing encounter with the elf, and tbh, that’s as far as I got. But Iorveth draws blood from Roche’s neck, presses his thumb to it, and then licks it off his thumb. Next, Iorveth was gonna be the one getting Uncomfortably Aroused, but I haven’t gotten that far. No idea where this is going overall.
Iorveth Investigates Roche
This kinda isn’t a real WiP in that idk if I’ll ever finish it. I mostly started it to do some worldbuilding about what public information there would be about Roche. 
Voyeurism AKA Eye on You
Yeah, I don’t have much for the next chapter yet, tbh. So premise is that Iorveth accidentally ends up watching Roche get off at the brothel and finds it really, really hot. Hot enough to get curious and go back for more. Next one is going to involve thigh fucking and Iorveth might possibly get pegged by Daph??? idk
Fake Relationship
Poor @lutes-and-dandelions has been waiting forever for this one and I can’t even find a place to end the scene and post what I have so far. Premise is that Iorveth and Roche are both investigating their missing men and the trail takes them to the Murivel Resort for Couples. So they go undercover. Featuring Roche’s POV of being doubtful, Iorveth using the excuse to flirt outrageously, strip gwent, and a magic amulet that hids Iorveth’s scar and that Roche hates.
Competitive Makeouts AKA The Chase
This was kissing practice and it turned into a casefic! Which is awesome because I love casefics even though I haven’t published any yet. So in this one, as Iorveth and Roche sneak off to makeout, they also end up investigating a conspiracy in the Temerian military. 
Iorveth/Roche(/Kayran) + Roche/Foltest aka Every Kiss Begins with Kayran
In which Roche accidentally walks in on Iorveth’s monthly fuck date with the Kayran and gets invited to join in. Then, somehow,  it starts to turn into a relationship. With an elf and a tentacle monster. And yet, somehow, this relationship is healthier than the one with Foltest. The contrast opens Roche’s eyes.
Pining and Poignards
In which Iorveth stabs Roche with his favorite knife and wants it back and is also maybe pining a lil bit. Meanwhile Roche is rather pissed, but also curious and begins to teach himself Elder Speech to try to read the inscription on Iorveth’s knife. I stalled out in the scene where Iorveth accidentally watches Roche masturbate in the bath.
Iorveth tittyfucking Roche
Look, it’s what it says on the tin. Roche’s POV of Iorveth’s fascination with his chest and how it makes him feel and then there is sex.
Dirty Gremlin Man
Iorveth gets off on Roche being a sweaty, stinky human. Roche pins Iorveth in a fight and Iorveth gets very distracted watching a drop of sweat trail down Roche’s face. So distracted, in fact, that he doesn’t think twice before stretching out his neck and licking it. Then, of course, he remembers where he is. Featuring a very confused Roche, a smidge of jealousy, and Iorveth stealing Roche’s sweaty clothing to do unspeakable things to it. And somehow they get together.
Want me to sit in your lap?
Geralt LEGIT says this to Roche like 5 mins into the Witcher 2 and it’s GREAT. So of course, I had to write a scene where he actually got to. This is set post Witcher 2 while Geralt, Triss, Roche, and Ves are headed back to Temeria. Triss offers Geralt a little stress relief - which involves warming Roche’s cock and watching Triss and Ves get to know one another.
Red is the Rose
So, Chapter 4 is set post-Witcher 2 and Iorveth is obsessing over the fact that the Rose of Remembrance still has not wilted. He wonders what might be possible, so when he hears a rumor that a certain Temerian Commander was taken captive by Dethmold...
Dethmold most definitely dies. But unfortunately, that doesn’t save Roche from the curses he cast. So they go looking for Geralt to find out how to fix it.
This has only been 9 of my documents, y’all. I think I have a problem.
De-Aged Fic aka The language of friendship is not words but meanings
Ugh, I lost my momentum on this one, which sucks, ‘cause the next chapter is so close to done. Iorveth just needs to do a little freaking out first. But then they will both be back to adults and have to DEAL with the fact that they made good friends and would kinda like that again. I think this fic is gonna be purely friendship for them, but they’re gonna get there.
Glory Hole
A fic for the @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo where Roche hears a rumor that some Scoia’tael go to this brothel on the outskirts of town and hey, he may as well check it out, right? By going undercover and working the glory hole, of course. He never ACTUALLY expected Iorveth would come, but his legendary mouth was enticing enough to draw the Scoia’tael commander out.
Snuggling
Thirteen “accidentally” handcuffs Iorveth and Roche together when they capture Iorveth. This leads to them lying on the cot in the Stripes’ holding cell, spooning. There is banter and tickling and escapes not attempted and also maybe some sex with Inexperience Iorveth (i say maybe because I already started the sex, but idk if it will fit in). 
Petals and Stripes
A weed is but an unloved flower
Okay, the Stripes are going to attempt to woo Iorveth during a battle. Also, there is a stabbing. And then a kidnapping. And then, miracle of miracles, someone actually tries talking!
One person's weed is another person's wildflower
Ves’s POV! She cleans up the mess her idiots make and terrifies the life out of one elven suitor, but first she’s gotta deal with her own conflicted feelings about her Boss, the guy she relies on to show her the shades of grey in the world, loving the elf she’s supposed to kill. 
After that, I’ve got 2 more fics planned in this ‘verse. One is gonna be a fluffy and/or sexy date after Iorveth and Roche have gotten together. The other is a Scoia’tael side story, featuring lots of gossip about the humans sending their Commander love letters.
Love Shack
The Better Part of Valor
Ugh, I’m stuck on the sex again. Roche is having a really shitty day, so he goes to the cabin and signals Iorveth that he wants a round. Iorveth offers gentle (for them) sex and praise. And at the end, there’s a very significant scene where Iorveth removes his bandana. Roche buries his fingers in Iorveth’s hair, but doesn’t actually see his face, as he’s laying on his stomach with Iorveth on top of him.
Medicine
The morning after! Roche wakes up to find Iorveth in the bath, facing away from him, and notices a new scar. Iorveth has to deal with actually revealing his scars in daylight and they discuss the significant differences in elven and human medicine. Hint: I turned my own medical procedures into elven medicine, so it’s pretty fucking good.
PWP Ovi
Set ambiguously late, maybe after Thou Art More Lovely and More Temperate. Iorveth and Roche explore what Roche can take. We start with overstimulation, go into consensual somnophilia, come inflation, breeding kink, and oviposition. Because elves reproduce by laying eggs, which is not at all the case purely because I started this WiP ages ago and was horny.
The Picture Says It All
There’s going to be 5 more pictures that Rinn draws for Iorveth. Next is Roche hard at work, hunched over a desk. Then we’re getting some shirtless Roche, for “research”, of course. Then Roche cuddling with PT and the rest of the team, about which Iorveth is not at all jealous. Then a face study of Roche during a fight and uh, Iorveth is uncomfortably turned on. And finally, a drawing of their cabin with a silhouette in the window. She knows.
Roche & Rinn: The Haunting of Barrack 8B
Oh man, I really want to finish the next chapter, because I already have the one after that done. But first, we get introduced to Adda! This ‘verse is going to feature Adda the White a lot more than any of my others have done so far and I’m very excited. Also, Silas continues to be terrified of the ghost and the ghost and Adda become girlfriends buddies.
Roche builds Iorveth a home
Set late in the ‘verse, after Roche knows his feelings, but they haven’t said them yet (not out loud, anyway). Iorveth takes a trip to go meet Saskia do things off screen and Roche ends up turning to his old hobby, carpentry, to keep himself from pining too obviously. So obviously he ends up builing Iorveth a solarium. And a pillow nest. And a scaffold so that flowers that blossom in the moonlight cover the glass and give them privacy.
I got stuck here because Rinn needs to give Roche a hint to get him to build the pillow nest, but I hadn’t developed Rinn and Roche’s relationship yet, so had to go back and do that. But eventually Iorveth returns and they have wonderful I’m-not-saying-it-but-i-love-you sex in the new pillow nest.
Foltest (WiP): Long Live the King
This is actually the last fic in the ‘verse, so I don’t want to give too much away. But actually, I haven’t figured out what the next chapter is, BUT I have the chapter after that started and it is GOOD, just you wait!! I’m very excited.
Don’t Cry For Me, Temeria
This ‘verse alone, I have 14 WiPs and a dozen more unwritten ideas.
(Im)Perfect Strangers
I am frustratingly stuck on this chapter. Theoreatically, we are going to have a check in on how the mountain and the rest of our cast is doing and then Roche launches his Wooing TM plan (aka dinner, gift, and dancing).
Between Two Fools
Yeah, Roche and Iorveth have very different understandings of what their gifts represent. There is some soft happiness and then a swift rug pulled out from under Iorveth’s feet, I’m afraid. BUT we are almost to the part where the two idiots sit down and actually talk properly.
Unlucky Number Thirteen
Not only do I have more of Thirteen’s story planned, but I have ideas for ALL the Stripes to have stories. We’ll see how that goes. But for now, Thirteen starts spying for Roche. A lot of still-nebulous stuff happens, including Thirteen’s first time, for which he asks Roche to help. Additionally, once we reach the (Im)Perfect Strangers timeline, Thirteen has a special story all his own. It involves learning to read and a secret I shall not yet reveal.
Silas
Like I said, all the Stripes are hopefully getting stories. But Silas’s is coming along nicely. He starts a new life as “Silas”, as a man, and joins the army. Boot camp is rough and awful and he’s not very good at any of it, but one day, Roche comes looking for a recruit. He needs a codebreaker to decipher Thirteen’s scouting reports (another one for pictures). So Silas joins the Stripes, but he’s still terrified that they’ll fnd out and think he’s been lying to them. Fortunately, they’ll be putting his fears to rest.
Stripes Sex aka Earning Your Stripes: The First Time
PT’s POV! The Stripes (pre-Silas) are all still getting comfortable with each other as a team. But Thirteen has known Roche the longest and in a specific capacity. So one evening when he needs to get out of his head, Thirteen asks Roche to dom him. PT is confused and scandalized and then jealous, but he gets to join in soon too. Meanwhile, Finch and Ves have fun with their bratty arsonist and Fenn is loving it.
break (v /brāk/): to destroy someone's resistance
This is very long and entirely build up to porn. And then lots of porn. A question during a random conversation leads Roche to make Iorveth ask him to take Iorveth utterly apart in a consensual non-consent fantasy set when they were still enemies in the forest.
Bath House
This was supposed to be a simple PWP where Roche talks dirty to Iorveth under his breath while the two of them are at the bathhouse with Boussy (who LOVES baths and brought them to the fancy bath house), Anais, and Thirteen (who HATE baths and react to water much like a cat). They kinda took over the story and there has been no dirty talk yet oops.
Iorveth POV: Tutti
Iorveth begins to reclaim his love for music and lets himself improvise and compose again. And he ends up writing a song that is the story of his and Roche’s romance.
Daggers, Dumplings, and Dresses
The Elihal/Hattori side story! Though we haven’t actually met Hattori yet. So far, Elihal is expounding on his past and his relationship with Iorveth (he used to make all of Iorveth’s fancy gowns for concerts). Elihal and Hattori won’t play a HUGE role in (Im)Perfect Strangers, but they will be appearing!
Ves and Ciaran aka The First Rule of Fight Club
Ves is stuck walking a very long way back to Vergen with the memory of Ciaran’s skin against her teeth. And even though elves lie like breathing, she can’t help thinking about what he said about Roche not being worth her loyalty. Slowly, she begins to work some things out.
Sex with Saskia/Dragonfucking
Yeah, it’s what it sounds like. Iorveth tells Roche that Saskia agreed to a threesome and where to meet, but he neglected to mention the rather large dragon that was currently rimming his ass. Roche gets distracted from his confusion by the hotness and watches Iorveth get fucked by a dragon (with 2 dicks to fit 2 holes, of course).
Come Inflation + Piss Play
Um. Yeah, it’s a PWP where Roche asks Triss for a potion that will make him come a lot. And then Iorveth wants more. No idea where it’s going, tbh.
Stripes vs Scoia’tael: Water Balloon Fight
Literally a water balloon fight. For morale.
Baby Mama
Uh, the title is a bit telling here oops. But let’s just say Iorveth and Roche go on vacation to the cabin on top of the mountain again when Iorveth is hit with the sudden extreme urge to breed. Roche is down, but at some point, they do actually need to talk.
King Roche aka fics where Roche is in charge and hates it. Some are more in line with this than others.
Post W3 Becoming Terrorists Together
Ah yes, the murder husbands fic. Literally, Roche gets stuck leading Temeria under Emhyr’s orders and he’s good at it, but he HATES it. Enter Iorveth, who both points out security flaws, joins Roche for a surprisingly unawkward bath, and proposes that they go hunting down war criminals on their own time. How can Roche say no?
Pre-W2 Ambassadorial AU
Different first meeting AU! In this one, Iorveth is sent as the elven ambassador to Temeria and it’s about as much fun as one might expect. Triss and Roche, the other outcasts amongst Temerian court, decide to befriend him. Well, try to anyway. idk where this is going, but it’s been fun. Also, Iorveth wears a fancy braid over his eye, because I said so. Also, I might be planning an OT3 porn scene at some point, because it turns out, elves are VERY sensitive to magic XD
Leap of Faith
Okay, yeah, this has nothing to do with King Roche, but it’s the doc I was working in when I got the idea. In this one, a mage captures Iorveth for Foltest and starts torturing him. Roche, without really thinking about it, decides the mage goes too far, so he kills them. Leaving him with an elven prisoner and a castle full of people who will consider him a traitor for that. They escape the city, but now Iorveth has gotta convince Roche that no, the King really won’t forget that whole murder and prisoner escape thing. 
The whole point of this fic was for me to write them jumping off a cliff lmao. When am I gonna get to that? Probably like last or second to last chapter, tbh. Which should be... after the next one? No, I lied, it’s next chapter! I need to get on that!
An ill-favour’d thing, sir, but mine own aka Possessive Sex
Piss Fic
Um. Yeah. Roche is really horny when Iorveth gets home and is on him immediately, which is great, but Iorveth has gotta piss. Which becomes less urgent as Roche is determined to have his face fucks, but after he comes all over Roche’s face, it’s VERY urgent and Roche is a fucking brat and won’t move out of the way. So obviously the response to this is to piss on Roche’s crotch - which Roche is apparently more than okay with.
Cum Dumpster Roche
Yeah, this one doesn’t have much yet, I literally just wanted Roche getting railed and claimed and L O V I N G it. 
Possessiveness
Iorveth spends a lot of time thinking about his enemy, his nemesis. He’s researched Roche extensively, spent hours thinking up tactics and strategies to outwit his nemesis. He literally knows what Roche named his stupid weapons, but he’s never actually met Roche.
But he’s dreamt about it. The Roche in reality doesn’t look like the assumptions he made in his dreams, but who cares about looks? Because Roche is his, and certainly not some dh’oine king’s.
Tentacles + Breeding
Gods, this one is SO CLOSE to being done dammit, I just gotta finish it!! But it’s a fun one. Iorveth and Roche are fighting, when Iorveth suddenly starts fighting plants, which are fighting back. Then the plants notice Roche and suddenly he’s tied up with vines and his clothes are getting torn off and uh, he’s not supposed to find this hot, is he? But he really kinda does. And then Iorveth goes and claims him and tries to protect him from a nearly-extinct non-sentient plant that sensed a warm spot to lay its eggs until someone else could come along and fertilize them. Iorveth is delighted to be that person.
Dream: Pleasure Slave
Yeah, Roche really likes getting claimed in these. In this one, he has a favorite dream setting where Iorveth rules some grand elven kingdom and Roche’s only role is to bring him pleasure. Not to deal with politics or nobles or policy, but just to make Iorveth feel good. So far, this features cock warming, come inflation, a leather cock cage (so to speak), prostate milking, and a very nice silver chalice that Iorveth expects Roche to fill before they’re done.
Roche wears a collar
This was gonna be a simple lil thing based on me creating Roche in heroforge and giving him a lil hidden collar. But then Iorveth decided to get really sappy and had to design and create the perfect collar for his enemy. And then, much to his surprise, he gets the opportunity to PUT his collar on Roche. Which is great, except the sight distracts him so much that Roche manages to escape.
But the next time they meet, Roche is still wearing that collar, hidden under his chaperon and armor. Iorveth has feelings about that.
Standalone
Crones fic aka And Ghosts Did Shriek and Shrill
So this is the angsty fic that started from a crack premise. Er, one of them. I seem to do that a lot. But in this one, Roche goes to the Ladies of the Woods and asks for his men back. The Ladies agree, in exchange for 6 lifetimes of service. But no creature can reverse death. Which leads to the Stripes coming back to “life” as ghosts - only Roche is the only one who can see them. Ves can’t (not at first). 
Believe it or not, the whole idea behind this was the Stripes roasting Roche as he tries to flirt (terribly) with Iorveth. But uh... somehow it turned pretty dark. Like, it’ll have a happy ending for sure, but it’s gonna be a lot about processing trauma and grief and building families and also curing a plague, because that’s the first assignment from the Ladies.
Stripes fics
Cuddles with the Commander
This is intended to be a sequel to The Pride of Temeria, but I kinda got stuck figuring out exactly how Roche should react. Tbh, I don’t have much of this written yet, but the goal is for Roche to approve cuddles with everyone lmao.
Fire Breating
Okay, this one started as crack purely because I love fire, but it’s actually been really fun. So, Iorveth and Roche are established and Iorveth has been invited to a family night with the Stripes, which is kinda a lil awkward. So they decide to showcase some of their talents - which includes Roche singing musicals and PT breathing fire.
Iorveth is horrified that humans have harnessed this skill.
Iorveth’s missing eye
This is really short and idk if I’ll continue it, but the idea was for Roche to really wonder what was up with the bandana over half of Iorveth’s face was about. And then, of course, to find out.
Iorveth Gangbang
Why is this under Stripes fics, you might ask? Well, I have great news for you. Guess who the gang is?
In which Iorveth and Roche are in an established relationship and Iorveth gets tied up in the middle of the Stripes’ camp while Roche orders his men to take him apart. Iorveth very much enjoys himself, and then when the Stripes are tapped out, Roche shows ‘em how it’s done.
Kink Bingo fics aka that event that I totally failed, but hey, prompts are prompts.
Age Kink
In this fic, Iorveth and Roche both end up captured by unknown forces and end up imprisoned together. I think the Stripes and Scoia’tael are probably working together to find them and save them, but in the meantime, Iorveth and Roche decide to get to know each other a bit better. Featuring muscle spasms, blow jobs, and pain kink.
Eskel/Lambert (okay, a little out of place here, but eh, it’s in the doc and I am still working on it)
Started for a prompt on tumblr, Eskel and Lambert end up fighting and, trying to keep the peace, Eskel casts axii on Lambert. Which leads to Lambert confessing that he bit Eskel because it’s the only way he could get his mouth on him. This leads to some dodged confessions, some frottage, and some snarky banter, because of course it does. 
Tempt Not a Desperate Man aka the Fuck or Die series that started with Devour What’s Truly Yours
Fisting
The next part of the series, where Roche struggles with the fact that he’s been high key horny ever since the encounter in the woods with Iorveth and nothing is satisfying him. Iorveth, on the other hand, is jealous and annoyed that Roche keeps going to the whorehouse.
Then Roche decides to make a potentially suicidal move and enters the forest to try to find the clearing from last time. And, as you might guess from my heading, fisting will be happening. 
Iorveth POV: The Chaperon
Okay, I don’t actually have much of this written, but it’s really cute so - Roche keeps using his chaperon as a cum rag, so Iorveth knits and/or sews him a new one.
“Human Bootlicker”
PWP where Iorveth jokingly suggestions Roche should surrender on his knees - and then Roche does. And asks Iorveth to take his prize. Featuring Roche coming all over Iorveth’s boots from getting his face fucked, then leaning down and licking up the mess while Iorveth watches and then comes over his face.
One Accidental Proposal and Five Attempts At Accepting
So one of the themes of this ‘verse is gonna be the Elven Baths where the Roses of Remembrance grow. As in, they decide to make the elven baths a place they meet up. This is the first time Iorveth takes Roche there, and Roche does not know what significance the roses have. But he DOES know that Iorveth blushes cutely when he tucks a rose behind Iorveth’s ear, so...
Iorveth would like to accept, only Roche doesn’t know WHAT he’s trying to accept.
The Legend
So in the game, there is a legend around the statue of elven lovers above the elven baths. “Legend has it the lover’s sighs are enchanted within these very stones, though only those in love can hear them.” 
Iorveth overhears his Scoia’tael gossiping about the legend and comes to an abrupt realization that Roche and him were the ones they were hearing. Oops?
Standalone Fics
Letters
This is kind of a bittersweet WiP that I mostly wrote in one go and then went to sleep and kinda lost the will for it. BUT the premise is that post-Witcher 3 Roche is in charge of Temeria and his brooding is interrupted when he receives a letter sealed with a forget me not pressed into wax. Iorveth continues to send letters describing his life as a “civilian” in Nilfgaard and how much he hates it and Roche relates a little bit too much. Then Iorveth decides to run away and live on the streets as a musician and he might inspire Roche to start learning the cello and presumably at some point, they meet.
Identity Porn
Iorveth and Roche have a meet cute in Flotsam’s tavern while the elf is listening in for local gossip and Roche is passing through on his way to meet with the other northern kings to get support in fighting against the new emerging threat of the Scoia’tael. Neither knows who the other is, but that doesn’t stop them from starting a relationship where they meet every time Roche passes through Flotsam. But their house of cards can only last so long, and at some point, they will meet as enemies. Who knows what happens then? idk, not me.
Gwent pinup calendar aka Cards Out for Your Country
Hahaha, so I started this series in response to some WONDERFUL art of Roche with his Tits Out For Temeria. And obviously we need more of that, so I created a list of 24 characters who are asked to pose for some pinup art, all in the name of Gwent. So far, I’ve only finished Dandelion’s pose/the introduction, but I do plan to do as many of them as I physically can.
Gwent Game in Corvo Bianco
Wow, I didn’t even remember this WiP, so uh... clearly I haven’t worked on it in a while. But it’s Iorveth’s POV of how surprisingly comfortable he is in Corvo Bianco and Iorveth and Geralt get drunk and play gwent.
Zoltan/Jaskier/Priscilla
A giftfic for Wibbly that involves Zoltan being sappy about his bards and then Priscilla dominates them. Featuring all my headcanons about dwarven genitalia (two holes, one with a retractible dick).
Dijkstra fics
Noticing Roche’s Fucked Up Relationship
Anyone else randomly finding themselves shipping Dijkstra/Roche? No? Ah well. For this one Dijkstra observes Roche and sees a few too many reminders of himself with Vizimir, except Foltest is no Vizimir, and Roche clearly hasn’t learned to set up boundaries. Dijkstra feels weirdly compelled to help him figure that out before Foltest destroys him.
Developing Respect Fic
Also known as “let’s torture Roche 1.0!” This fic switches between the present, where Roche has woken up in a cell somewhere unknown and it brings back far too many memories for him to be entirely sure of what is happening when. In the past, he was captured by Redania while on a mission for Foltest, long before he was anyone notable. Dijkstra comes to visit, curious about this prisoner who refuses to break, to even tell them his name or confirm his country (but he has a Temerian tramp stamp, so they know lmao). So Dijkstra decides that this is not a man who will be broken through torture and decides to try conversation instead. The idea is to show them slowly gaining respect for each other, but like, obviously Roche is still a prisoner. Eventually, he’s returned to Temeria in a prisoner exchange, but meanwhile, in the present, Roche is all alone, with not even guards around and no way to free himself.
and that’s all!! I am... legitimately scared to count, tbh. This post is so fucking long, the number cannot be good for my heart. But, that said, please come talk to me about any ideas you find interesting!! Or anything you have questions about! 
And if you made it this far down the list... wow. Thank you, you rock.
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wincestisasincest · 4 years
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2000 Man (A beatle!reader story) - Part 5: Fore!
A quick one, inspired by this picture. Beautiful.
As always, credit to @casafrass for inventing the concept of Beatle!reader, that mf idea that sister snatched my heart. 
Description: It’s the year 2000, and y/n, the fifth member of the Beatles, is advertising her new book, Madam Beatle, in her first interview of the year. We see snapshots of her life, from when she joined the band, to the trials and tribulations, to the death of the band, and everything in between. Loosely inspired by Slumdog Millionaire. 
Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
Head canons: None, I think, besides the general concept, this is just me spitballing. 
Words: 1465
Pairings: None? I mean, it’s the same as always, depending on how you view it, it can either be a pairing or a friendship.
Warnings: Alcohol, smoking, golf
“There is this recurring, oh, let’s call it a motif, in the book, of the Rolling Stones.” 
“Yeah, this is one of the few cases in which popular opinion was actually correct. We really did see the Stones a lot.”
“Now, you were friends?”
“I’d say so, yes. Initially, we had something of a rivalry, I guess you’d call it, but even in those days, we still had a very deep reverence for each other. And, then, at one point, our managers decided that we should meet.”
“An interesting decision, yes?” 
“Well, you see, in our industry, competition isn’t unusual, but having enemies really can’t be an option. I think they wanted to actually have us meet face to face so our competitive energy couldn’t turn into blind hatred. Because that only leads to worse things.” 
“Hasn’t competition produced some great records?” 
“Yes, but it’s not really a prerequisite. All due respect, I really am against the idea that you need some sort of negative presence to properly be a musician, or make beautiful things. People just like focusing on that because it’s interesting, but really, as much songs have been motivated by joy as they have grief. I wish more people, especially aspiring artists, knew that.” 
*************
“They’re late.” Brian checked his watch impatiently. 
“What’d you expect?” John was lighting his cigarette.
“Their public personas are one thing, but there’s no need to be rude in private.” Brian huffed.
“Maybe, and this is crazy, but hear me out, their on-stage personas evolved from their own personalities.” You retorted as John courteously lit your own cigarette for you. 
“(Y/n), I’m really not in the mood for any of your back-talk. If you could kindly keep the sass to yourself, I think it would benefit all of us.” Brian retorted and John snickered. 
“You got in trouble.” 
“Shut up, John, I’m gonna go check out the bar.” You shifted your eyes up to Brian, expecting some sort of reprimand, though he just looked at you tiredly.
“Just don’t get drunk.” And with that, he paid you no more mind. It’s not nearly as fun when he doesn’t get offended, you thought. 
You turned on your heel and wandered off in the opposite direction, leaving John to flit over to Paul, George, and Ringo, who were pretending to know how to swing a club. You laughed to yourself. The benefit of being the only girl in the group is that when they did dumb guy business meeting things, you were not expected to participate. Another day of your life where you would not have to play golf. Thank god. 
You swung open the door to the bar and the air conditioner hit you in the face. The bar had an old-timey feel, all the way down to the bar tender cleaning a glass at the counter and a few mysterious strangers lined up on the stools. Might as well join ‘em. 
You plopped yourself on the stool the closest to the door and called the bartender over. 
“What can I do ya for, sweetheart?” 
“Vodka sour.” He nodded and whisked off behind the counter to fetch your order. You took a drag of your cigarette.
“Vodka sour?” A thick British accent floated from one of the stools. You spun around your seat, face to face with none other than Keith Richards, the guitarist for the Rolling Stones, and also one of the people that you were waiting on. 
“It’s 5 o’clock somewhere.” You shrugged. If he wanted to play it coy, and act like you two don’t know each other, then he’s on.
He slid out of his seat and moved to the one directly next to you. The both of you were smoking and sizing each other up. Of course, if you wanted to ruin the fun, you could’ve asked why he was late. But you didn’t. 
“Vodka sour, Miss.” The bartender dropped your drink on the counter. You briefly turned back to him.
“Thanks, what do I owe you?” As you struggled to pull out your wallet, Keith took some money from the front pocket of his shirt and handed it to the bartender. He returned your startled look with a charming smile. 
“On me.” 
“Well now, I must be something special if I’m getting you to buy drinks for me.” You doused your cigarette in the ashtray and took a long sip.
“Nah, it’s just, I feel like I know you from somewhere.” He grinned.
“Feeling’s mutual. Perhaps I can buy the next one?”
“Oi, Keith, stop flirtin’ we got some bugs ta’ meet!” Another British accent, though this one a lot more harsh, cut through the room. 
Coming in from the alternate entrance was none other than the flamboyant, the one and only, the Romeon to your Juliet, Mick Jagger. Trailing behind him like ducklings was the Stones’ manager, Andrew Loog-Oldham, the bassist, Bill Wyman, the other guitarist, Brian Jones, and the dummer, Charlie Watts. 
“While you were sittin’ on your ass, Mick, I already got started!” He leaned back in his seat, revealing you sitting next to him. You flashed your million dollar smiled at the confused crowd. 
“It’s a pleasure.” You toasted to them across the room with your vodka sour, before finishing the drink off and leaving it on the counter.
Mick’s eyes slanted at you, and you could’ve sworn that you heard him purr. 
“A pleasure indeed.” He stalked across the room towards you, before gently taking your hand in his own and kissing your knuckles. You turned to Keith from the side. 
“See? He knows how to greet a lady.” Keith chuckled at your joke. 
“I apologize if our Keith has been forward at all, he can’t handle himself around birds, ‘specially those he fancies.” From what you already knew about Mick, you would never really know whether or not he was actually interested in you because he flirted with anything that moved. 
“The picture of a gentleman.” You smiled wryly. 
“Damnit, Keith. That’s against our image.” Brian teased, his blonde locks bouncing as his head moved. You giggled. 
“Well, I suppose we shouldn’t keep the others waiting? They’re out there pretending they know how to play golf.” The crowd laughed, yet again. You were on a roll. You got up from your stool, getting your footing on the floor, not forgetting to leave a tip in the jar, as you exited the building flanked by your biggest pop competitor. 
The image of their (y/n) coming up the hill with a group of men known for being disrespectful towards everything did set the lads on edge a bit. John was almost angry, Paul was concerned, George was curious, and Ringo was still focusing on his swing. Brian was just glad that these people had showed up on time. 
As the manager’s greeting each other with aggressive levels of formality, the group took to intermingling. 
“Not gonna lie, I thought you had just found some fans (y/n).” Paul started.
“You’d be correct. We are fans.” Mick put an arm around your shoulder. 
“Speak for yourself. I thought you were kidnapped.” John did that thing where he would say a joke, but you knew that there was real anger underneath. You silently prayed that John wouldn’t mess this up. 
“Oh, please. If anything I kidnapped them.” You psshed. 
“Does anyone actually know why we’re here?” Brian interluded, somewhat impatient with the formalities of the managers. 
“I think the football mums over there wanted us to play golf together? Because that’s what business people do?” John shrugged sarcastically, and the group chuckled. 
“Is now a bad time to tell them that I don’t think any of us know how to play?” George quipped quietly, though making sure that he was still included in the conversation.
“Speak for yourself, I think my swings improved.” Ringo demonstrated, narrowly missing the back of Brian’s head, though thankfully, Brian didn’t actually notice. 
“Yeah, if you’re tryna take someone out.” You smiled at Ringo, knowing full well that someone would die of a golf mishap before the day was over. 
“Speakin’ of takin’ out...” Mick looked back down at you flirtatiously. John had finally boiled over.
“Absolutely not. No.” He pulled you over to their side. Everyone giggled like a bunch of pre-teen boys, except for John, surprisingly.
“As a rule, (y/n) is off limits. Just business, lads.” He placed you behind him and Paul like a wall. 
“Imma big girl, Johnny. Just like you.” Talk shit, get roasted John. Though everyone was laughing, with several oohs interspersed between them, you could swear that Paul laughed unusually hard. 
“Alright you ten,” Brian returned to the group, “shall we get started?” 
“I just have one question, Brian,” Paul turned to face him, “how do you play golf?”
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