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janeyseymour · 2 months

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Love Thy Neighbor

saw a prompt from @givethispromptatry

So... here we are... as usual, not edited in the slightest and hoping it's alright!

WC: ~3.45k

After your (not so amicable) split from your dirtbag of a husband, you packed your things and moved back to Philly. It was the city that held a special place in your heart, you knew the area like the back of your hand, and your parents still resided in the place that you grew up. It only made sense now that as a single mother to a six year old girl, you would move to be closer to your parents so they could help bear the load of being a working mom. Elizabeth, but you usually stuck with the nickname Ellie, was a rather easy child. But moving from across the country and leaving the life that she knew and loved behind was rather hard for her- and it was even harder knowing that Mom and Dad had split, and that Dad didn’t necessarily want anything to do with either of you anymore.

So, after about a month of living with your parents, making trips from Utah to Philly and back multiple times to gather all of your things from the house, show the house, sell the house, and deal with the divorce lawyers… the two of you have finally found a little apartment that should be an appropriate size for the two of you while still staying within your budget.

You had been granted full custody, not that your ex would fight you on that, but you also managed to get him to fork over a decent amount of child support- and you would need it. You still haven’t found a job in Philly, and while little jobs here and there were helpful (you mostly did DoorDash on your bike, Ellie’s bike trailer attached so you could bring her along and hold the food), you knew that you absolutely needed to find a job- and quick.

In between attempting to unpack all of your things, get Ellie settled, looking for a new job, and Doordashing, you haven’t been able to take a breath at all. You don’t even know who your neighbors are or what they look like. And you feel a little guilty at that, but none of them have stopped by to introduce themselves to you either. You remember though, that Philly folks aren’t nearly as kind as the people that you had surrounded yourself with in Utah… so them not introducing themselves to you isn’t the most unheard of thing in the world.

Today was brutal. You had signed Ellie up to start school next week, searched and applied for a few teaching jobs (one of which would be at your daughter’s school if you could land it), gone grocery shopping, and then done a nice load of Doordashing with your daughter in tow because your parents couldn’t watch her.

The little girl had missed out on the nap that she usually takes after a day at school, so she’s absolutely miserable the entire time that you bike around. You had tried to placate her by bringing along her iPad so she could watch videos while you navigated the city, but she wanted nothing to do with it. All she did the entire time was whine about the fact that she wanted to go home and cuddle.

After hours of delivering food, you’re satisfied with the amount of money that you made today.

“Okay, little love,” you turn and look at your daughter. “Are you ready for home?”

“I’ve been ready,” she grumbles, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

You give her a soft smile. “I know, sweet girl… but Momma has to make money so we can stay here.”

“Why can’t we just stay in Utah where I like it?”

You bite your lip. “I want to be closer to my parents, baby… and this way you get to see Gram and Pop more than you used to. I think if you give Philly a chance, you’ll learn to love it like I do.”

She huffs a little.

Deciding that you probably aren’t going to get much more out of her, you turn and start biking in the direction of your apartment. As you’re doing so, you silently thank God that you’re in good shape. At least if anything comes out of this, your legs are going to look incredible.

You chain your bike to the bike stand in the garage of your apartment complex, only to remember that you had forgotten what you needed to make dinner tonight. With regret, you begin to unchain it- much to Ellie’s dismay.

“Momma!” she stomps her foot.

“I know,” you say softly, but you gesture for her to get back into her trailer.

“No!”

You take a shaky breath. You really don’t want to have to put up with a trademarked Ellie tantrum, but it seems that’s what is in store for you tonight. “Love bug, please. We just have to go to the store, and then we can come home, I’ll make dinner, and we can cuddle.”

“I want to cuddle now!”

“Well, we have to fill that belly of yours with food first,” you poke her stomach gently, trying to elicit a giggle out of the little girl.

It absolutely does the opposite of that. She bats your hand away, and you raise an eyebrow before standing back up straight. “Ellie, you know we do not try to hit.”

“I don’t care,” she tells you defiantly.

A redhead that lives in the building comes into the garage, eyeing you and your child. You hope she isn’t judging you for the fit your child is currently in the middle of having. She climbs into her car and rolls down her windows, but she doesn’t quite pull out yet. She glances at her phone instead.

You blow out a breath, eyes closed and trying to ground yourself, before looking at her again. “Elizabeth, we need to get food for dinner. All you have to do is sit in your trailer while I bike us to the store.”

“Why can’t I stay home?!”

“Because you are six and too little to stay home by yourself.”

“This isn’t home!” you daughter stomps her foot and bursts into tears.

The woman that lives in your complex is still sitting in her car, and you know she can hear your daughter’s and your words. Why hasn’t she pulled out yet?

You soften immediately, crouching back down and opening your arms for her to hug you if she needs to. She does. She immediately curls into your arms and clings to you. “I know, love bug. I know it doesn’t feel like home right now… but no matter what, Momma can’t leave you in the apartment alone. So, I need you to get into your trailer so we can head to the store. The faster we get there, the faster we can come back and curl up on the couch together, okay?”

Your daughter clings to you a little tighter, but you feel her nod into your shoulder.

The woman pulls out of her spot and gives you and your daughter a small wave as she drives past.

You hold your little girl until she begins to pull away, and then you wipe her tears with the pads of your thumbs. “I love you, Ellie.”

She climbs back into her seat before mumbling back the same sentiment.

You’re able to do your quick run to the grocery store, and Ellie refuses to walk but also refuses to sit in the cart like she usually does. So, you carry her on your hip the entirety of your walk through the aisles. As you’re strolling up and down, you see the redhead that you had seen in the garage earlier, and she gives you a questioning look at the sight of you carrying your daughter when she could be in the cart that you’re pushing along.

You just give her a little shrug and continue on your way. Ellie is getting heavier and heavier by the minute though, so you pick up the pace and are out of the store.

You make your way back to the complex, bags around your arms and in the trailer with your daughter. When you lock your bike to the rack, you look in, and the little girl is fast asleep. Shit.

“Ellie,” you crouch down and whisper. “Sweetheart, we’re back. You have to wake up and carry the bread and juice in for me.”

The little girl stirs slightly before repositioning herself and closing her eyes again.

“Baby girl,” you say softly. “Please wake up for Momma.”

You see headlights, and the car that has the redheaded woman in it pulls in. Great. You get to make a fool out of yourself in front of her yet again.

Not being able to hide your stress, you decide to grab a few of the lighter bags, put them on your arms, and then wiggle Ellie out of the trailer. She’s asleep on your shoulder as soon as she’s in your hold. You silently take a moment to pray that your produce won’t get stolen in the few minutes it will take you to get Ellie upstairs before making your way into the building.

The elevator is broken. Of course it is. So you’re forced to carry three bags of groceries and your six year old daughter up four flights of steps. By the end of it, you’re wheezing. You manage to unlock your door before gently setting her on the couch. With a sigh and a wipe of your now sweaty brow, you lock the door behind you and begin to head down to get the rest of your groceries.

There’s that woman again… and she lives in the apartment across the hall. You give her a friendly nod of the head and a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes before you continue your trek back down.

After your second trip up, your body is entirely exhausted. You hardly have it in you to cook dinner, but you dragged Ellie out, so you have to make the meal.

You’re able to wake her with the scent of her favorite meal, but as soon as she’s finished, she’s curling up against you and falling asleep.

After your daughter lays on top of you for quite some time, you know you have to put her in her own room. So, you silently make your way into her bedroom and tuck her in. With a quick kiss to the forehead and a soft “I love you”, you make your way back out to the kitchen.

Ellie is out for the night- she was exhausted halfway through your DoorDash shift- so you grab a glass and fill it with wine. The sweet drink helps to melt away some of the stress as you clean the dishes and settle on the couch for some much needed adult time.

That time is interrupted though when you hear a few rough knocks rattling your apartment. Instinctively, you grab the baseball bat that you keep behind the couch and make your way to the door.

Who the hell could be at your door at this hour? You don’t know anyone here, it wouldn’t be your parents… Could it be your ex-husband? No. He’s out in California with the woman he was cheating on you with. So who the hell is it?

“Who is it?” you yell, gripping the bat so tightly your knuckles turn white.

“You the woman that just moved in?” a gruff voice calls back.

You move a bit closer as you call, “What’s it to you?!”

“Saw you have a kid. Was wondering if you needed help with anything. You look real stressed.”

At that, you move closer to the door and glance out the peephole. It’s the woman that you ran into in the garage and at the grocery store. You open the door just slightly, still unsure of her.

“I ain’t gonna bite,” she teases. “You looked really stressed, so I thought I’d come over, introduce myself, and see if you needed any help.”

You lessen the grip on your bat as you open the door a little further. You take in the woman’s full appearance now that you aren’t trying to calm your daughter and aren’t terrified of being mugged. She’s… she’s really pretty.

You don’t realize that you haven’t say anything back until she’s waving a hand in front of your face. “Hello?”

You shake your head to bring yourself back to the present. “Hi. Sorry… today’s just been… a lot.”

“I could gather that. Can I help?”

You shrug. “I think I’m good at the moment, but I appreciate it.”

“Well,” the redhead purses her lips. “You ever need anything, I’m just across the hall.”

She turns to walk back to her apartment, but she stops when you call a gentle, “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I uh, never got your name,” you say quietly.

“Schemmenti. Melissa.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smile at her. “I’m Y/N, and the little girl you saw me with is my daughter, Ellie.”

She looks at you thoughtfully before nodding. She heads back to her apartment after that.

You run into her a lot in the following few days after that encounter. She sees you haul Ellie with you pretty much everywhere, and she has quite a few questions that she just can’t seem to work out on her own. So, one day after you’ve brought up Ellie and the groceries, she can’t help but knock on your door.

“Who is it?” you call, not bothering to move from your place on the couch with your daughter.

“Melissa,” the familiar voice calls back.

You sigh before making your way over to the door. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Just checkin’ in on you,” the redhead says. “I saw you hauling up Ellie and your groceries.”

“All good,” you chuckle. “Just about to make dinner for the two of us.”

“You haven’t had dinner yet?” She looks concerned.

“About to get the microwave pasta going now,” you admit sheepishly. “I was gonna have it made earlier, but El decided that she would die without Momma cuddles… and who am I to deny my sweet girl of such a request?”

“When’s her bedtime?”

“In about an hour,” you tell her. “Why?”

“Let me make youse two dinner,” she offers. “I’m a damn good cook, and I can make a pasta dish way better than the packaged sh-stuff.”

“Oh,” you say softly. “You don’t have to do that.”

“No, please,” she argues gently. “I insist.”

“O-oh,” you rub your collarbone nervously. “Are you sure?”

“I haven’t had dinner either,” she lies through her teeth. “So let me make us all a meal while you relax and hold your daughter.”

You finally manage to nod- she does not seem like the type of woman who would lose an argument.

“Just give me a couple minutes to gather some ingredients, and I’ll come back over?”

You smile in lieu of an answer. You close the door gently once she’s back in her apartment before making your way to Ellie.

“Sweet girl, our neighbor, Miss Melissa is coming over for dinner tonight. Can you be the polite little girl I raised?”

She nods, but she reaches for you. You pull her into your lap and hold her close until the redhead knocks on your door again. You pull yourself and your daughter off the couch to go open the door.

In her arms are a few different cans, some produce, and pasta that has clearly been homemade.

“Baby,” you tease the ends of you daughter’s locks gently. “This is Miss Melissa. Can you say hi to her for me?”

“H-hi,” Ellie manages to squeak out. “You’re really pretty.”

Melissa smiles at her, and when she speaks her voice has turned to butter. It’s much softer than when she’s speaking to you. “Thank you, hun. I’m Melissa. It’s so nice to meet you, Ellie.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I’ve been talking to your momma,” the woman chuckles gently.

The little girl’s lips form into an ‘O’ shape, and you can’t help the gentle kiss that you plant on her temple.

“Miss Melissa is going to make us dinner,” you tell your daughter softly. “Does that sound alright?”

She nods against your neck.

“I’m gonna make spaghetti,” the redhead tells Ellie. “That sound okay?”

“You might become her new favorite person,” you joke. “Little girl eats so many noodles, she’s gonna turn into one someday.”

You girl giggles against you. “Nah uh,” she scrunches her nose and makes a funny face at you. “That’s not possible, Momma.”

“I know, my love. I’m just teasing,” you chuckle before returning your attention to the woman in your doorway. “Well, come in, come in. Make yourself at home.”

She carries her things to the kitchen before starting her prep. The way that she gets everything done so efficiently is mind blowing to you, and you can’t help but watch in awe as you continue to hold Ellie.

“Sit down, hun,” Melissa instructs softly as she stirs her sauce. “Take a load off. I got this.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any help? Maybe a glass of wine for your troubles?”

“I won’t say no to a glass, but you absolutely are not helping. I got it.”

You pour her a glass and offer it to her before quietly sitting down and continuing to watch as she makes her way through your kitchen effortlessly.

Dinner is placed in front of you before you know it, and Ellie is nearly wiggling with glee at the plate in front of her. She dives in, and her eyes light up.

“This is so yummy!” your little girl cheers as she takes another forkful to her mouth.

“I’m glad you like it, sweetheart,” Melissa smiles. She gestures for you to take a bite as well, and when you do, you can’t help the small sigh that comes out of your mouth.

“Wow,” you say softly. “This is… incredible.”

“Thanks,” she chuckles as she take a bite of her own creation. “It’s a family recipe.”

Dinner is pleasant. The woman does her best to ask Ellie all about herself, to which your little girl answers delightfully. She’s even able to ask Melissa a few questions of her own. But once her plate is cleared, Ellie climbs into your lap and lets out a yawn as she fiddles with the chain around your neck.

“Is my little girl tired?” you coo softly.

She nods against you.

“Why don’t you start getting ready for bed, sweetness? Momma will be in in a few minutes to say goodnight,” you tell her. She nods again. “Well, off you go. But first, what do you say to Miss Melissa?”

“Thank you,” your daughter smiles brightly before climbing off your lap. Surprisingly, she makes her way over to the redhead’s side of the table and hugs her. Melissa wraps her arms around the little girl gently.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Get some good sleep tonight, yeah?”

Ellie nods before wandering down the hall to get to her bedroom, leaving you with Melissa.

“Thank you for dinner tonight,” you say softly.

“Any time.”

“No, seriously. I usually cook, but I was not feeling it tonight. So, thank you.”

“I’m sure. I saw you biking all around today, starting with this morning when I was heading to work and ending with you coming back from the store.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’m a busy woman.”

“Where are you always biking anyway?”

“I’m in between jobs at the moment, so I’ve just been DoorDashing with El until she starts school next week,” you sigh. “Hopefully I get a job soon… I need all the money I can get to keep this place and give El everything she needs or wants.”

“You’re doing great,” Melissa tells you honestly. “She adores you.”

“She likes you too,” you say quietly. “You’re really good with her.”

“Well, I have some experience with children,” she chuckles quietly. “I guess I should head out so you can get the little one to bed and get some sleep yourself, but I’ll see you around?”

“Next time, dinner’s on me,” you tell her.

“We’ll see about that one,” she laughs as she heads for the door. “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to holler.”

“Thank you, Melissa. Goodnight.”

You see her out, and as you close the door behind her, you sigh. You lean against it for a second, a little confused with the way you’re feeling after this diiner.

Maybe this new neighbor will become a close friend of yours… maybe something else. Only time will tell. But for now, you have to get back to your daughter.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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reallyromealone · 1 year

Text

Uncanny Valley reader

I don't remember what part

Male reader

Violence, fluff

🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷(name)s move was prompt.

Ran watching the cats explore the new area and a majority of (name)s belongings in storage (mostly his stuffed toys and furniture), The Bonten executive excited to have his strange boyfriend around more often.

(Name) held his hello kitty blanket and squishmallow confused and Ran cooed "you can put your stuff anywhere darling, my home is yours"

(Name) tentatively put his stuff in little areas, a stuffed plush there and his blanket on the bed.

That was another thing ran was going to enjoy.

Sharing a bed with (name).

Ran was determined to be a good boyfriend to (name) who also did try his best in his own way, the broker letting ran cuddle him and even wear one of rans shirts to bed.

Ran didnt want (name) finding a new apartment.

Though the others?

They couldn't stand it.

And boy did it FILL RAN WITH SO MUCH JOY.

(Name) and rans schedules were surprisingly similar though ran did have to drag (name) from his computer to bed when the man wouldn't sleep with the promise of more Cat videos and people watching at the park.

(Name) liked how ran smelled.

He always smelt very nice, expensive.

(Name) never imagined having a relationship much less being the little spoon, letting ran take the lead in the relationship. He didn't think he would enjoy not being in control but Ran seemed to know what he was doing so (name) let him do as he pleased.

Ran learned (name)s likes and dislikes, he wasn't fond of big fancy dinners often, the broker liked private rooms to eat and ran didn't mind, less likely to get killed that way.

(Name) was also not easy to impress as the man was always on edge but Ran learned what he liked.

Cute things and soft things.

Ran was truly dating a cat.

The two got ready at the same time, Ran splitting his closet for (name) "you have so many plush toys and blankets but three suits"

"Yes?"

"We have very different priorities, I know how much Bonten pays you so why don't you buy suits baby?"

Ran also learned (name) liked nicknames and pet names but only out of the public eye "Why would I need more?"

"Why not?"

Today was a rare day off, ran deciding to take (name) out clothes shopping, the man having one set of pajamas, three suits and five casual pants and shirts.

Ran was appaled.

Ran managed to convince his boyfriend to go clothes shopping with the promise of buying him a limited edition plush toy.

What they weren't counting on was Bonten tagging along in disguises..

"Wear this..." Mikey commanded to the deadpan broker, handing him a god awful shirt but the man just shrugged and went into the change room and tried it on.

"When can I get my plush" (name) said deadpan, clearly not enjoying this experience and ran wanted to scream, not at (name) but at the others who were taking up his time but Ran appreciated how (name) always focused his attention on his boyfriend when asking questions. "(Name)! Try this!" Koko beamed and held clearly women's lingerie and the broker just looked cold and dead before going and changing into his clothes and walking out of the store "God damn it..." Ran mumbled.

Over the months with (name) he learned (name)s tells and he knew (name) was very much done.

He ended up finding him at a gatcha machine corner getting little keychains.

(Name) was beyond uncomfortable, he didn't have experience with a lot of people at once and malls were only used for people watching or info gathering.

Not people who he knew didn't like him months prior suddenly wanting attention.

He didn't understand.

"Hey baby, cute keychains" Ran joked and (name) looked at him "I'm not some doll to be dressed, can we end this errand and return to your apartment?" (Name) mumbled gripping the keychains, he didn't even get his plush like promised.

Ran nodded and ended up ditching Bonten (save for Rindō who he asked to get the plush and a few other cute things for (name)) and went back to the penthouse "they're insistence is confusing and unwelcome" (name) said simply "yeah, I wish they would lay off too..." Ran said bringing him to the livingroom where the cats were currently very entranced with the birds on the balcony.

Ran smiled as (name) and him ended up cuddling on the couch, the broker clearly overwhelmed and overstimulated and after head scratches and shows Ran introduced (name) to, the man was out cold in comfy clothes.

He looked absolutely precious.

People often forgot who and what (name) was and did.

He was absolutely precious to Ran but seeing him beat a guy senseless with a briefcase and an empty expression was both horrifying and *hot* to the elder Haitani. The man was half conscious as (name) bent down "don't try and swindle me" he hissed out and bashed the guys face into the floor before getting up.

(Name) recently began working with Bonten fully no longer as an information broker but as an intelligence gatherer strictly under Bonten.

"I don't like this apartment" (name) said simply as he looked it over, it was a very nice place, state of the art appliances and an excellent view of the city "what don't you like about it?" Ran asked as Rindō checked out the rooms "it's not right"

This had been (name)s answer for the past four apartments and Ran was confused, what was wrong with these places?

Then it clicked.

And Ran was smug.

(Name) now only slept in Rans bed, in Rans clothes and cuddling ran.

He got ready with Ran.

He ate with Ran.

He did most things with Ran.

What was missing from the apartments was Ran.

"Still looking for an apartment?" Koko asked (name) who was walking to his new office as (name) technically counted as an executive as he was in charge of an entire sector.

"Yes" (name) said smiling, he didn't like Kokos company or most of their company "well an apartment opened up in my building, I can put a good word in for you!" He offered and (name) shook his head "I have decided to continue my residency with Ran" (name) said simply and the energy in the office plummeted as the men lowkey pouted but (name) didn't care "does this mean we can move your stuff to my place fully?' Ran grinned fully aware of what he's doing.

"Yes" (name) looked very unsettling as he walked into his office and Ran followed "you know you don't have to do that if you don't want to" Ran said softly and (name) was twitchy "it's fine" he said stiffly "is it?'

"I... I enjoy your company greatly... I don't want to be without it... Is it acceptable for me to continue?"

"Absolutely baby" he said kissing (name) softly and spoke "we can take your stuff out of storage... I have three extra rooms, we can put all you're cute stuff in there"

"Stuffed toys on the bed?"

"You can have five"

"Deal"

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #bonten x reader #ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #haitani ran

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at-tensionseeker · 1 year

Text

No Is A Full Sentence

Elizabeth Olsen x Y/N

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, social anxiety, panic attacks

Genre: Fluff, Funny (i think, based on my humor lol)

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44250676

This fanfic is inspired by Lizzie's Sam Jones' interview. I hope you enjoy!

It’s your first time going to this sushi place that one of your friends recommended. It isn’t far from your apartment, but you did have to walk for about ten minutes to get there. You wouldn’t have been if you weren’t craving those salmon nigiri take outs that your friend Jan brought to your apartment last week during your regularly scheduled movie nights. Instead, here you are standing in the back of the restaurant’s long ass line that reached their storefront because of so many people trying to buy their own food.

You put your hands in your coat’s pockets, just a failed attempt of trying to warm them. The memory of your gloves flashes in your eyes and the regret of not bringing them with you makes you want to kick yourself.

The December breeze in New York is definitely a killer. When you first moved in two years ago, you couldn’t even go outside for a full month without getting sick. The climate was new to you, especially having lived in sunny, warm weather all your life. It became a habit to buy long coats, jackets, winter gloves, and even earmuffs just so you don’t get hypothermia in the long run. Soon enough, you adjusted to the temperatures and learned how to adjust both your apartment’s and car’s heating system to help you during the winter season. It was fun.

The line moves slowly. Whatever the reason for that is, you really don’t know. Besides, you tell yourself, that you’re already in line and people behind you have come up so if you leave now you’ll just wake up in the middle of the night with those damn nigiris flooding your mind. So, you decided to stay.

You tip your toes to see if the people in front of you have moved since the last ten minutes you were there, but the sight of a short blonde hair and green eyes that met yours as she turns around for a split second stops you from breathing.

You’ve seen that face before. Multiple times.

In movies, in that Disney+ show, interviews, edits. You know it’s her.

You’ve been following her journey since her first appearance in Avengers Age of Ultron and has been on the ride up until her most recent successful film, Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. You weren’t a die-hard Marvel fan before and even now you wouldn’t dare to call yourself one, but you quickly found yourself latched on to the franchise ever since you saw her. There aren’t any posters in your room, and you certainly haven’t gone to any Comic-cons, but you loved how she portrayed such a powerful character and has been fascinated by her ever since.

Elizabeth Olsen is standing in line in front of you in the middle of the cold New York weather, her frame clad in black faux fur coat and beanie on top of her head that really barely covers her blonde hair.

You suddenly couldn’t breathe. The air is getting colder and thinner for your liking, and you fear you’ll pass out before you could even say hi to her. There’s sweat forming on your palms and you know you can feel it, but you’re also a little confused since you’re pretty sure normal people don’t sweat in the cold. You brush it profusely against the material of your coat just to get it off or to calm your nerves. That one you’re still debating on.

The line moves briefly and then stops, and you think to yourself that if you could just muster any amount of courage, you’d say hi to her. Maybe get a photo with her even.

Should you say hi to her? What will you tell her? Do you tap her first on the shoulder so she can look back at you? Or is that rude?

The line moves again and you curse inwardly. It was barely moving five minutes ago, and now that you see a Hollywood Star in front of you it suddenly budges?

How infuriatingly unlucky of you.

From what you’ve seen, Elizabeth seems nice to her fans during fan meets and interviews so you know she’s not rude. That’s one of the reasons why you fell in love with her personality.

But this isn’t a Comic-con, is it? This isn’t some staged interview wherein you get a free backstage pass to meet your idol, no. This is literally outside of the restaurant in the middle of a busy New York street and she’s just trying to grab some food just like everyone else.

You’re still conflicted, even when the both of you finally reach inside. There’s probably about 4 to 5 people in front of you now, and you’re not even thinking about the sushi at this point anymore. Your hands still shake and sweat no matter how many times you wipe it off, and your heart beats faster than normal when you realize you’re both going to part ways sooner than you like it. It gets even harder to convince yourself to just go for it because when will another opportunity like this be presented to you in the future? Chances are lower than zero itself. A negative number if you think of it.

So when the customer in front of her finally reaches the counter, your shaky hands poke her slightly on her left shoulder.

Nothing.

Okay, maybe a little harder?

You poke her again, and she whips her head back to you. Her brows furrowed at the sight of you and they raise up in question. It’s hard not to look like a fool in front of a famous person, isn’t it? You probably look like a deer in headlights, but you quickly found your voice after a few blinks.

“Uh- h-hi,” you stammer. “Are you- is it okay if- I’m a huge fan of your work. Is it okay if I ask for a photo?”

You’re pretty sure she didn’t hear that. You barely let out a whisper, or is that blood that’s rushing through your ears?

Realization dawns on her face on what you mean. She shakes her head.

“No.”

There is a breaking sound somewhere. You’re not entirely sure if it’s one of the waiters who accidentally breaks some glass or if it is the sound of your heart breaking. You freeze in your place, embarrassed and hurt, but mostly embarrassed because of the dumb decision you made. Instead of letting that get to you, you give her a smile and nod to let her know that you get it.

“Forgive me,” you blurt out, still smiling at her to hide the tears burning in the back of your eyes. “I understand, of course. You’re not obliged to. I’m really-“ you pause to swallow the lump in your throat. It’s just really embarrassing. “I’m really glad to have seen you in person.”

Elizabeth only looks at you and gives you a warm smile and that eases out a little bit of your anxiety of probably offending her at some point. The customer in front of her left, you notice, so you usher her forward. She gives you one last smile and orders her food.

Few of the things you didn’t notice though. Her eyes are red and a little bit swollen, probably from crying and when she ordered her food, her hands are clasped together with fingers rubbing each other to ease her anxiety. Of course you would have, had you not been too busy cursing yourself at your stupidity.

Elizabeth grabs her takeout, gives you one last look and exits the restaurant.

You take the sushi you’re not craving anymore and replays the encounter as you go your way home. You can’t believe that the first celebrity you’ll meet in New York is the one person you adore. It was surreal, to say the least, and despite the rocky meeting with Elizabeth Olsen you are still happy to have seen her smile and look at you directly in person.

You swear to God you’ll attend the next Comic-con.

Sending the news to Jan, who doesn’t believe you therefore requested that you call him as soon as you arrive, you quickly pocket your phone and sprint your way outside of the busier streets of New York. You reach the more calm and quiet area where your apartment is and begin to walk slowly.

The unfortunate encounter with Elizabeth Olsen has been the only thing that’s replaying in your mind so when you spot a crouched figure with faux fur coat and beanie once again, you couldn’t help but squeak.

You almost tripped on her actually. She’s just by the sidewalk, both of her hands are covering her ears and her eyes are tightly closed. There’s a frown and a thin line of sweat on her face and you didn’t think twice before fully sitting down in front of her to check.

“Hey,” you prod slowly. “Are you okay? Do you want me to call someone?”

Flashes of hands clasped together back at the restaurant flood your brain and it didn’t take you another minute to realize that she’s currently having a panic attack.

“Uhm… Elizabeth- Lizzie? Can I call you that? I’ll call you that, okay?” You stammer. “I’m here to help you. Can you breathe slowly please?”

Elizabeth does as you tell her. You continue to tell her to breathe and that everything is fine around you. “It’s scary, I know. But it will pass, okay? You need to be in the present, Lizzie. Just listen to my voice. I’ll be right here and you’re not alone.”

Albeit her eyes are still shut, her breathing sounds less worse than before. And when she finally looks up to you, you see the green eyes you have admired for a long time swimming in pain and anxiety. It makes you want to pull her for a hug since she may need one, but you obviously don’t want to overstep your boundaries even if that means comforting her to help.

“Concentrate on my breathing,” you nod at her to encourage her to copy the rhythm you set for her. “That’s it. You’re doing really good, Lizzie.”

Eventually after what seems like hours of doing breathing exercises with her capped with a lot of reassuring words, the hands cupping her ears drop down to her lap and are slowly rubbing her palms in another attempt to calm herself. You slowly stand up from the ground and hold out a hand for her to take.

“Are you okay now? Can you stand?” You offer. She takes it and stands up rather wobbly.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. “I feel better.”

“Right,” you smile at her. Noticing that you’re still holding her also glove-less hand, your cheeks flush as you pull it back while taking two steps backwards. You don’t want to overcrowd her after having an anxiety attack.

“Um so, are you from around here? I could walk you to your place if you want,” you tell her, not really wanting to risk letting her go alone after an episode. You know how it feels to be trapped by anxiety like that, and to break down in public places without backup is definitely one of the worst experiences ever.

“I’m not trying to stalk you or something,” you clarify after not getting an answer from her. “I’m Y/N. I live there in that building,” you point towards your apartment. “If you want, I can jog really quickly and get my car and I can drive you home. Or not, of course I don’t want to overstep. I understand completely.

“It’s just, I don’t want you to go on your own after experiencing that,” you add. “I know how it feels and I honestly just want to help you.”

Elizabeth contemplates for a moment and answers. “That’s very kind of you, Y/N. But, I think I need to decline the offer. Being in this business, I’m not a very trusting person-“

“Of course,” you cut her off quickly. “I understand, Ms. Olsen.”

“However,” she smiles a little bit at your rambling once again. “Can I please borrow your phone? Mine died down and I need to call my sister so she can pick me up from here. And I guess don’t mind the company while waiting?”

You quickly fish out your phone and hand it over to her. You also ignore the amused chuckle from her as soon as she sees your lock screen is that of Wanda Maximoff.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“The phone’s locked. Do you want to type in your password?” She smiles, the look of amusement still twinkling in her eyes. You don’t mind though. You’d prefer her teasing eyes over the sad ones you witnessed a while ago.

“Oh, okay. Here let me just,” you move forward to type in 0216 in your phone and the blush creeps back in your face once again when you feel her eyes watching you.

Elizabeth calls one of her twin sisters. Apparently, they’re here in New York for a fashion event and Elizabeth thought it’d be nice to come with them. While waiting for one of the Olsen twins, you both sat on one of the stairs and talked for a bit.

“I want to say that I’m sorry for refusing to take a photo a while ago,” she looks at you a little apologetically. Her posture seems calmer now and you’re really glad that she’s doing better every passing minute. “I was out on my own, and a few people have recognized me on the streets and I was just trying to have a nice time for myself.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” you reply. “I wasn’t lying when I said I completely understand and that you’re not obliged to. I'm just glad to meet you.

“I should be the one to apologize,” you bite your lip nervously. It didn’t cross your mind that you could’ve been the trigger to her already bubbling up anxiety but hearing her say that crowds have already recognized her, you asking for a photo was the last straw. “I was contemplating whether or not to ask you and I did, but I know I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

The actress waves it off. “No, honestly you were the most polite one. You were just the first and only person I said ‘no’ to who didn’t insist on getting a photo, and that set me off. Others just didn’t care and they still took their flashing phones out and pointed it at me.”

“One thing I learned from you is that ‘no is a full sentence’ so,” you acknowledge with a smile, distinctly remembering that one interview of hers with Sam Jones.

“Yes, exactly,” she laughs.

“We can take a photo now if you want to?” The actress offers after a moment of silence. “You helped me through a tough time. It’s one of the ways I can repay you.”

“It’s okay, really. You don’t have to repay me or anything. Kindness is free,” you reply, to which her small smile widens a lot more. “You’ve had a long day. I’m just the stranger who wants to help a fellow anxiety sufferer,” you joke to which she laughs lightly.

“At this point you’re not a stranger anymore,” Elizabeth says, her fingers still fiddling with each other. “I know your name is Y/N, and where you live,” she points to your building to prove it. “Those two plus the fact that your wallpaper is Wanda and your passcode is my birthday.”

She smirks at you, clearly enjoying the way your cheeks flush for the nth time that day. “Okay, you win. Yes, I’m your fan and all that. You can make fun of me now.”

“Don’t be like that,” Elizabeth laughs at your silly eye roll but waves it off. “I’m always honored to meet my fans.”

A black car pulls up from out of nowhere and Elizabeth stands up to leave. “This was really great. Minus the anxiety part,” she turns back to you and flashes that award winning smile yet again. “I’m grateful that it was you who found me cowering in the streets, Y/N. I’m hoping to see you again some other time when neither of us is either breaking down or a complete and total stranger,” you note the hopeful tone in her voice, and that makes you wonder if there’s another universe out there wherein she’ll still remember you after tonight because you’re pretty sure she wouldn’t.

If you’re lucky, this might be that universe but who knows?

“I’m glad you’re safe,” you smile at her. “See you around, Ms. Olsen.”

“That is such a formal way to address me,” She calls out, opening the door to the front seat.

“Elizabeth, then?” You suggest to which she grimaces.

“Just Lizzie is fine. I distinctly remember you calling me that a while ago during… you know,” she trails off. “And only my mom calls me by my full name and that only happens when I’m in trouble.”

“Okay, Lizzie,” you chuckle. Waving a hand up to a goodbye, the car finally speeds off to the opposite direction of your apartment. You let out a sigh and smile at the events as you walk back home.

Even when you are in bed, the memory of her voice and her smile makes you giddy. This definitely goes on the top of your list of most memorable things that have happened to you while staying in New York. You still couldn’t believe your chances. Granted your first meeting was terrible in all ways, Elizabeth was nothing short of amazing to you. You really aren’t wrong to follow her throughout her career because of her personality. The personal encounter made you want to support her more in the future.

The morning after that, the wild array of flowers on your doorstep have kind of taken you by surprise. To add to that, you see the simple note on one of the bouquets that says

“To my biggest fan,

Thank you.

Love,

Wanda Maximoff”

and your heart melts at the sentiment.

You aren’t expecting yourself to be at the receiving end of this, but it’s definitely not unwanted. It most definitely isn’t, especially when you check your phone and see a text from an unknown number asking whether or not you got the package.

You replied to Elizabeth, saving her number under “Lizzie” with a huge grin on your face. She must’ve gotten the number from her sister when she borrowed your phone to call her. Who would’ve thought that asking for a photo with Elizabeth Olsen and getting rejected will lead you to this?

Y/N: Are you my stalker now? Did our roles change?

Lizzie: Ha-ha. Very funny. I just want to say thank you again for yesterday.

Y/N: And you already have. The flowers are unnecessary.

Lizzie: Did you not like them?

Y/N: I love them. They’re beautiful, Lizzie. Thank you.

Lizzie: Would you say, they’re beautiful enough for us to talk about them over coffee?

You almost choke on the bread you made for breakfast this morning. That is definitely upfront and honest. You convince yourself that it’s probably just another way to thank you for the good deed yesterday, but there’s also a teeny tiny voice in your head saying she’s asking you out.

But why would she, right?

Deciding to not listen to any of your demons, you turn your attention back to her text. Upon rereading the text she sent for the third time now, it’s dawning on you that you’ve yet to reply. Elizabeth follows that up with another text and it makes you feel really silly because of how much your cheeks ache from smiling.

Lizzie: Maybe about Wanda also? If you want?

Lizzie: Or… anxiety issues?

Y/N: You already have me on board with coffee. Wanda talk, too. The anxiety issues, I think we should both stick to our therapists.

Lizzie: I can’t say I don’t agree on the last one.

Lizzie: So, I’ll pick you up tomorrow then? 3PM?

Y/N: Works for me, Lizzie.

Y/N: Or I can pick you up instead. I wouldn’t mind.

Lizzie: It’s okay, Y/N. Besides, I know where you live. *winky face*

You laugh at that one. She should definitely be a star of another comedy film. Elizabeth is funny by nature even though there are countless interviews of her saying that she’s not.

Y/N: Of course you’ll throw that.

Y/N: I feel unsafe now. This is unfair. I feel like I should also know where you live.

Lizzie: You will.

Lizzie: On the second date.

Lizzie: When you take me home.

Elizabeth leaves no room for questions. Your demons shut their mouths when you read that it most definitely will be a date. You want to play it cool, like coyly and shy, but what’s more to hide? She already knows you’re a fan, so you stick to that and pray that maybe… someday maybe, who knows, right? You’ll like each other.

Y/N: You’re smooth, Olsen. Got two dates in one day.

Lizzie: I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.

Y/N: Can’t wait.

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

You’re late. And you forgot your gloves again.

It’s another cold, almost snowy day in New York city. You love living here despite the busy times and countless people just trying to go through with their respective lives. It’s loud and lively and you used to hate that but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be but here.

You check your bag for the passes, but the memory of the glossy paper beside your gloves on your messy bed makes you internally groan. The first time you attend a Comic-con, and you leave your backstage passes. How else are you going to meet her?

Cursing inwardly, you send her a text to let her know of your situation even though you know that the event started an hour ago and she won’t see it because she’s definitely not holding her phone in the middle of answering questions. You blame your boss for sending that last minute spreadsheet, but this is your idea right? You have to suffer the consequences.

Being in line isn’t something foreign to you. In fact, it’s so familiar that you chuckle as kids, teens, and grown ups join you from the entrance. The line is moving rapidly as most people with passes (which could have been you if you weren’t so careless) have already gone inside. When you enter the place, it’s no surprise to see it packed as the recent MCU film has made tabloids and charts because of its success. You easily spot her even though you’re rows away from the front line. She’s sitting in the middle with her face scrunched up in annoyance and teeth biting her lower lip so hard you swear she wants to draw blood.

You grimace as you helplessly stand in the back with no way to even come forward to be close to her. The situation is laughable, but the frown on Elizabeth’s forehead is enough to make you worry and act fast. You find a spot with a lot of light so you move towards that, passing a lot of people in the process, with the hopes of her green eyes spotting you even for a distance.

It’s effective apparently, because she spots you at the same time a question is asked towards her. The frown eases, she scrunches up her nose adorably towards you and you nod back both in confirmation and reassurance that you made it there, and she lets out a full on grin you know is solely reserved for you. The interviewer interrupts and you laugh at her confused state.

“Elizabeth? The question?” The interviewer supplies.

“Right! I’m so sorry,” she laughs gleefully, head thrown back and hand covering her mouth and you’ve seen that look a thousand times before but it still gives you the same butterfly effect in your stomach. “I- uh. I saw my wife in the crowd and I got distracted. I’m sorry. What was the question again?”

“How romantic!” the interviewer swoons. “Everyone, that’s Elizabeth’s wife Y/N. Can we say hello to her?”

Your face turns red as people look at your direction and send cheers and hoots. You wave back to the fans shyly, stealing another glance at your wife on the stage as you do so. Standing in front of the light definitely has some good and bad results. You can’t believe she did that in front of everybody, but you’re not one to complain. Her PA also runs from the front to you upon hearing this and she ushers you through security. You chuckle as they bring you in, blowing Elizabeth a kiss before you disappear backstage.

“Hey,” your wife greets you after the event is finished. She skips towards your direction and plants a chaste kiss on your lips to which you happily sigh into. “I was worried you weren’t here.”

“Forgive me, my love,” you apologize while engulfing her in a hug. “You know commuting in New York is insane.”

“I repeatedly told you to get your license so we can buy you a new car.”

You smile at the worry in her voice. “I like it when you drive us to places you’re familiar with, Ms. Stuyvesant Street. And the boss left me with some last minute work.”

She pulls back to look at you. “And what were you doing in the back? Didn’t I leave the passes in our apartment?”

“I left them,” you sheepishly reply. Elizabeth narrows her eyes at you and shakes her head.

“And your gloves too. Am I right, my love?”

The cheeky smile you gave her is enough to confirm her suspicions. “I was really late and I wanted to see you as soon as I could. I miss you this morning.”

“Charming,” she laughs and rummages through her bag for something. Curious as you are, you lean forward to look at it. “Here.”

She hands you a pair of gloves.

“I keep one in case you forget yours during winter,” she grins, proud of what she did. “And I was right.”

You want to wipe off that cocky smirk off of her lips. There are a lot of people around you but she did announce you to everyone, so really what else is stopping you? After she said goodbye to everyone, you pull her hand so she moves closer to your side.

Elizabeth lets out a squeal when you grab both of her waist. You smell her perfume that invades your nostrils and your head swims at the fact that there’s nothing better than having her close again. She’s everywhere and the background fades away like a cliche movie scene, but you don’t care about any of those. She’s here in front of you and you’re incredibly happy to know that she loves you as much as you love her.

“I love you,” you whisper against her mouth.

“I love you, too.”

It’s insane how one kiss from her makes you feel giddy. And that’s saying something after being married to her for a year now.

“You need to wear the gloves, my love,” she chuckles when both of you pull away. Elizabeth leads you to the back exit that leads to the parking lot. The breeze picks up a little bit and snowflakes fall on your heads, but your face is still hot from kissing her.

“Why do I need the gloves when I could just hold your hand and let you warm me up?” You bob your eyebrows at her and kiss her temple as the both of you walk towards her car.

You’re lucky. There’s no doubt about that now. Being with such an incredible woman who supports you in everything that you do and loves you through it all is a bliss. You couldn’t have asked for more.

“And they say I’m the romantic one.”

#elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen x reader #y/n #elizabeth olsen x y/n #fluff #lizzie x y/n #lizzie x you #elizabeth olsen x you #funny #new york city setting #fanfiction #fanfic #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wandanat #scarletwidow #marvel cinematic universe

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sailoryooons · 1 year

Text

Carved | Four | jjk (m)

→ Summary: Hundreds of years after the Underworld wins the war, Vaesen - demon kind - rule the Realms. The Vanir - creatures of light and the Heavens - are hunted and enslaved by Vaesen. When the demon prince Jungkook is given one of the Carved - angels who have been stripped of their wings - he has no idea what to do with you. You, however, have plans you are determined to see through. Even if it means death in the end.

→ Pairing: demon!Jungkook x angel!female reader

→ Rating: NSFW & 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging with this content. Any minors discovered interacting with adult content will be blocked immediately.

→ Type: Series

→ Genre: dystopian, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, angst

→ Pairing: 8,254

→ Warnings: Graphic depiction of violence and fighting, graphic depiction of death and gore, depictions of death (including, but not describing the death of a child and family members), semi-complex fight scenes, mentions of manipulation and power imbalance, reader purposefully seducing Jungkook to get what she wants, mentions of something similar to subspace and reader taking advance of Jungkook in a subspace like state mentally, explicit language, power imbalances and mentions of enslaved creatures, Jungkook and reader get a little violent with one another but like.. in a pleasure able way so here we go for the sexually explicit warnings, reader goading Jungkook, unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, Jungkook kinda gets right too it, rough, slapping and biting, Jungkook being pretty rough and slamming reader around and shoving her into things, vulnerable mental states and manipulation, mild dirty talk tbh this sex scene is incredibly mild in terms of what I usually do, ummm I don't know guys it's a dark urban fantasy with weird shit, unedited should be a warning because I did a grammarly check and nothing else oops. ALSO PLS KEEP IN MIND THIS SEX SCENE IS BLAND BECAUSE OF THE SPECIFIC SCENARIO THEY ARE IN. I ASSURE YOU MUCH MORE DETAILED AND EXPLICIT SMUT IS IN THE FUTURE, BUT IT WASNT THE VIBE HERE

→ Main Masterlist: here

→ Series Masterlist: here

→ faq

A/N: IT'S FINALLY HERE. Sorry this was so delayed. I was dealing with writers block pretty severely, work has been really crazy and demanding, I've been really tired and also my mentally manipulative ex-boyfriend decided to unalive himself so that was a weird week, I was trying to find new apartments and yeah this chapter has been re-written at least 5 times. Also I apologize I said fuck it we ball and this is absolutely only edited with a grammarly check. I will edit in full tomorrow but I do not have the brain capacity to do it right now, she is Tapped Out but I promised I would post this mf chapter tonight. Does any one have any theories as to what's going on yet teehee.

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgement or representation of real life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. BTS is not BTS culturally, intellectually, physically or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

/ PREVIOUS / NEXT CHAPTER /

Screams split the air. For a second, you hesitate, turning to the source of the chaos. It erupts beyond the door, startling several Vaesen inside of the room. You react first, shooting toward the door with Taehyung and Jungkook on your heels.

The sound that greets you is a symphony of shattering glass, surprised screams and varying degrees of carnage. A table flips in front of you as you enter the main ballroom. You sidestep it easily as it fractures against Taehyung, who hardly flinches before vanishing into the surging crowd of running and swarming Vaesen and Vanir.

With careful movements, you slid out of your heels, feet pressing against broken glass. It doesn’t bite or cut your skin – only real weapons can do that – but it’s uncomfortable as you take a defensive stance, aware how vulnerable you are in a tiny, sheer dress and no weapon.

Blood-slicked floors greet you. The screams of the Vaesen make your lips twitch upward slightly. Chaos has erupted in a tableau of overturned tables, shattered champagne glasses, pearl-draped demons hiding behind fractured, round tables, and a dark, wet hissing sound.

Whatever creatures have entered the room smell wrong, like honey gone sour or sweet cream curdled. Your eyes sweep the painting of chaos before you.

And then you see them.

Your heart stills for one painfully long second, stretched like skin pulled too tight over bone. They’re… seraphim but not.

The creatures have dark, pitted eyes with black veins rippling over sallow skin. They’re naked and feature no distinct gender, appearing stitched together. Their ribs are prominent and you’re unsure if it’s by design or emaciation. There are mismatched wings on their bodies, opening and closing uncontrollably at awkward intervals and angles like they don’t know how to use them - or maybe can’t.

A creature lets out a screech and cuts a vampire lord in half, blood spraying the wall like watercolor on canvas. There is a dozen of them, and they all have swords, crudely shaped but you can almost taste the adamas in the swords.

Fucking hells. They have swords of Heaven.

Jungkook appears at your side, dark eyes scanning the room as the Not-Seraphim spread throughout, cutting through screaming party goers who are unarmed beyond their own fangs and teeth. You can scent gore in the air and your blood hums: it smells like a killing pitch.

“Reaper.” Jungkook says the name like a command. The name is both yours and not yours. It is one of many names. One of many people you are. His voice slithers down your back, eliciting a shiver. He holds out a dagger. Reaper is the person Jungkook needs you to be. “Find my niece.”

You take the dagger and come alive. The hellstone throbs in your hand, metal carved from the deepest pits of the underworld and forged in hellfire. You tighten your grip and move forward.

One step and you’re in front of one of the Not Angels. It cocks it’s head and pauses, a series of clicks slipping through black, jagged teeth and a weeping mouth.

A second step and death follows you.

Flesh burns. It singes your nose, something like spoiled flesh and rotten eggs. You can taste the sulfur as the creature wilts to the floor, body still twitching after decapitation. You bend over, snatching up the poorly made sword. It’s sharp enough, but the handle is crude and the blade is splotchy, mixed with many metals.

It hums in your hand, a pulse of power crawling through your palm and fingers like an electric current. You recognize the feel of adamas, a metal only found in Heaven realms deep in cloud-ringed mountains. For a moment your mind drifts, suspended between memory and imagination. You can almost see it: tangerine pink skies, the smell of orange blossoms, wind that is neither cold nor warm.

A creature lunges at you and the dream melts away. You duck under the blow, striking out with the dagger. It plunges to the hilt, a wet crack sounding as you puncture its ribcage. It screams and spittle flies. It doesn’t react to the knife, clawing toward you and opening a split maw of blood and black.

Cringing backward, you push with the dagger, shoving the creature away to provide space for the swing of your sword. The head severs, hitting the ground with a thud before rolling away. The body jerks, remaining vertical for a moment. Ripping your knife out, you send the lifeless body to the ground where it remains dead.

Interesting.

Another creature replaces the felled one, no weapon in hand but claws raking out at you. You shuffle backward, ducking away from the swiping talons. The creature flaps its wings once – the only one with functional wings, it seems – and surges forward, catching you off guard.

It knocks into you with the weight of a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs and you go down with the creature, it’s talons catching the flesh on your right bicep. You scream at the burn and fuck it burns. You look at where your skin burns black and wilted in three, jagged lines.

A blue-sparked flame catches your attention on the creature’s hands as it gnashes at you. You grab it around the throat, keeping razor teeth away from your face as drool and something else drips on your face. Your eyes zero in on the flame that comes and goes like it can’t control the heat on the tips of its fingers.

Hellfire, you realize.

Your mind expands, a searching radar for Jungkook. You sense him immediately, his mind like mist and rain tinged with hatred. His emotions are in turmoil, a churning storm of icy rain that bites into your thoughts and razor-sharp wind. There is a sense of no control, Jungkook’s churning storm ripping through his energies with something like feral-laced panic on the edges.

Jungkook, you call to him, feeding him your emotions as you shove back at the gnashing teeth of the creature pinning you down. He ignores you, his storm too volatile to sense you. You push harder, imagining that you’re brushing cool water down the bridge of your connection.

Jungkook flinches when he feels you. The storm pauses, like passing into the eye as the chaos settles around him. You use the opportunity to speak again. They can use Hellfire.

It takes a moment for him to respond. Understood.

Pulling away from the connection, you keep your minds tethered. The crackling energy and harsh storm stirs again when you pull from his mind, but it’s not as out of control as before, the thread between you an anchor as he refocuses on his own task.

Lightning crackles under your fingers as you shove with your hand, putting all your force into where you push back on the monster above you. The creature topples backward as you roll to your feet, movement fluid. Your dress is ripping near the throat, threatening to tear. You curse, begging the fabric to stay on a little longer.

You have no intention of fighting while spilling out of your dress.

Electricity charges in the room. Unchoked, you feel the thunder of your power looming on the horizon. Every time you call the lightning to you feels like a rush of adrenaline, the sparks dancing along every nerve of your body, lighting you up from the inside out.

This is your power. There is a moment where you consider letting it all go. You could supernova right where you stand, destroying everything within several miles. You know you have the capability – it's something you’ve dreamed of doing for years.

But it’s just a dream, and your dreams do not align with your goal.

Reigning in the urge to destroy destroy destroy, you instead focus the lightning on the creatures closest to you. The bolts let out a loud crack as you direct the energy to your targets. There is a flash and the smell of burnt skin and corpse, but you ignore it, pushing toward a forming group in the corner of the ballroom.

There is a concentration of fighting Vaesen, screaming and creatures near where you remember seeing Jungkook’s niece last. A body topples in front of you, and you step over it- later you will remember that it was a collared Vanir, naked and still tied to a chair on its leash.

You see Jihoon– he's covered in something black and slick, kicking out at one of the creatures. He has a single dagger in his hand, a retinue of guards dead at his feet, and you can hear the high-pitched scream of his daughter behind him. A single step in their direction is blocked by more creatures, hissing and clicking at you.

Jungkook appears at your side, covered in gore. His hands are black to the wrist, dripping in... something. You realize he’s fighting without a weapon.

“Are you ripping through them?”

“I gave you my knife,” he snaps. His mind brushes against yours, a torrent of chaos and loud noises and anger so hot you waver. You toss the dagger to him, spinning your new sword in your hand. “I think beheading them is the only thing that works.”

“Yeah, I discovered that thanks.”

A vampire gets turned to mist and splatter in front of you. You feel the hot blood hit your face. It smells metallic and like Synth from his last meal.

“Can you-”

You see it in his mind. The lightning that you can summon to destroy worlds. You nod once, summing the crackling energy inside of you.

A high-pitched scream interrupts you. Your eyes zero in on Kita, hiding under a table as her mother pulls the girl tight against her chest, baring her teeth. There's a red aura around her as she snaps her teeth at one of the creatures, a red arch of fire snapping out.

Fox fire.

Kita tries to imitate her mother, crying through barred teeth and a tiny flicker of flame humming around her. There are creatures closing in and you feel the snap of your power, targeting the creatures in a large area.

Power ripples in the room. You feel the urge to kill kill kill again. To destroy. To light the entire room up and burn it all down. You’ve done it before. You know the taste and smell of annihilation. You know the feeling of death brushing past you as he collects his dead.

The crack of a whip. A scream of agony. Blood in your mouth your hands your ears your neck, your arms-

You push away the desire to rebel. It burns bright, a hot coal ready to catch fire but you smother it. Pretend it isn’t there.

Rising up at the wrong time does nothing. Freeing yourself a long game. Giving in to your rage means failure, and you have failed and failed and failed and failed and -

The room flashes bright. Colors dance behind your eyes as you let go of the power. For a moment, everything is silent. The world is warped, the sulfur air charged with electricity. You feel the static tickle the nap of your neck, your arms, your mind.

You look around. There are no more creatures standing, black wisps of smoke curling toward a scorched ceiling. Dust motes float down. You stick out a hand, finger pointed as one lands on your finger. You realize it’s soot, the leftovers from the creatures you’ve thoroughly crisped.

Around the room, life – or what’s left of it – begins to stir. Glass crunches beneath feet and the sound of tables being righted sounds booming in the silence of destruction.

Jungkook and Ji-Hoon are on their knees, ducked under the table as they coax Kita and her mother from their hiding spot.

You assess the damage, eyes scanning the room and catching on golden collars. Diamonds resting on the hollow of still throats. Snapped gossamer wings under a broken body. A platinum leash tangled in a chair, its nymph counterpart missing her lower half.

There are more Vanir than Vaesen among the dead. Caught up in leashes and collars. Stuck in a brass birdcage. Shackled to a table. Your stomach turns but you don’t focus on the faces. Committing them to memory makes them mean something and nothing means anything to you.

“Reaper.” Jungkook’s voices radiates the space between you and the space unseen, echoing in your mind. You turn to look at him. He has a firm grip on Kita, the child pressed to his side as Ji-Hoon argues with his wife silently. “We are escorting them out.”

“We’re with you.” The oily voice makes you stiffen. You don’t have to turn to see Taehyung among the aftermath. You do see the kitsune lingering off to the side, his dark eyes flickering from the ashes to you. “Both of us.”

Jungkook bows his head. “They were concentrated around Ji-Hoon and none of his men remain. It’s safe to assume he’s a target. Reaper and Yoongi with Kita and Daiyu. Taehyung with us.”

Taehyung moves past you, no longer interested in teasing you. Jungkook presses close to his brother and you press Kita and Daiyu between you and Yoongi. The huli jing looks at you skeptically, holding her daughter’s hand fiercely. You don’t give it much thought, following Jungkook’s lead as he leads your group through a service entrance.

It smells like sulfur and rot. Damp air clings to your skin, forming a sticky second layer. You grimace. The clack of dress shoes is loud against the tile floors. The hall is too narrow for you to walk in groups, meant for only a few Vanir to come and go at a time. You move quickly in single file line, Yoongi at the front with Kita and Daiyu between you.

Jungkook’s mind waivers on the edge of yours. You can feel that he’s aware of you, as though he is turning over his should to see if you’re still there. You can’t see him from the back of the line, but he doesn’t severe the connection.

Probably don’t know how.

Servant corridors are long and complicated. When Jungkook approaches a split, he takes one hall over another confidently. You peek into his mind, seeing the flash of blueprints and memory of a layout on a screen.

You know the layout of the servant halls, you observe. Down your connection, you sense him flinching. You knew you would be attacked?

No. His voice is curt. His mind is a dark storm, words cutting through hissing rain. But we are always prepared. It’s not often that someone tries to assassinate us, but...

But what?

Focus on your task.

Your lips twitch and you feel him draw away from you a bit. But what? You wonder. He was hiding something and that just wouldn’t do. Cutting into his mind would be as easy as clipping the wings of a butterfly. But you leave Jungkook alone for now, following the dark hall, Taehyung and Jihoon’s hushed voices drifting toward you.

A small door in the hall, nearly invisible leads to a tunnel. You can still see flitting images and thoughts across Jungkook’s memory. He has no control to his thoughts, no way to block you out. He is unaware of the danger you present to his mind, laid open for the taking.

And yet you don’t.

The ground slopes beneath your feet. Your press your fingers on the wall, casting your senses. There’s damp, empty air on the other side of the wall and you can hear the hush of slow floating water. Above you, the ceiling vibrates. You’re in a tunnel in the sewers.

Your eyes drift to Jungkook. He was trained in escape routes in the building. And seemed to be one of the few Vaesen armed at the party.

Unarmed Vaesen. The thought leads you somewhere between pleasure and contempt. Only the creatures of the Underworlds could be so arrogant as to think they have nothing to fear. In a way, they don’t. Demons and their kind are the apex predators, the top of the food chain.

But even among themselves, enemies lurk.

The sheer stupidity is comforting – the knowledge that it comes at the expense of how little of a threat Vanir pose, is not.

A cool awareness brushes against the nape of your neck. You pause, the echoes of shoes and Kita sniffing silently ahead reverberating off the walls. Your instinct flickers and you turn your head a fraction, angling your ear toward the way you came.

Silence stretches and stretches. You frown, stretching out the net of your mind. It’s a strange feeling, opening that barrier and sense of other. It’s not a psychic ability as much as it is sensing energy, magic, and existence, something many Vanier and Vaesen alike can do.

At first, there is nothing but empty space. Ahead of you, your group pushes on. They don’t notice that you’ve stopped entirely, head cocked and tense.

Then you hear it – or at least perceive it. A soft hiss, the smell of death.

They’re here, you hiss down the tether between you and Jungkook. You feel his surprise and then his anger as you turn to face the back of the tunnel. Keep going and let me know when you’re out of the tunnel. If I light up in here, you’re going down too.

Good to know you care.

You scoff. I still have use for you, Dominus.

Something like irritation and resentment slithers down the connection from Jungkook. It makes you smirk, pleased at offering opposition. It’s been a long time since you could openly oppose someone the way you now can. It’s a risk, but it’s a calculated one.

Sometimes you must let the monster in to give it a sense of comfort. You remember the lesson. You think about the Vaesen who so easily move about the world without weapons.

Yes, letting Jungkook see parts of you is necessary. Dangerous, but ultimately worth it.

Shuffling, stilted movements echo toward you. Sliding your feet apart and bent slightly at the knee, you wait in a defensive stance. You leave the connection to Jungkook open. As you wait for the creatures to reach you, you periodically drift to observe Jungkook and the others. They’re making quick work rushing through a network of tunnels, moving faster now that there is a threat.

Lightning will do you no good in an enclosed space. While you won’t kill yourself, the walls of the tunnel are reinforced with metal rods and bracketing, a perfect conduit for electricity. With the running water crisscrossing in the sewer system just behind, you’re positive you’ll light up half of the underground network if you try it.

So you wait. Sword in your hand. Poised.

The first creature slides into your line of sight. The corridor is dark and without light, the shapes of the bent wings in a small space almost comical. They cannot move more than one at a time, a single file line of twisted limbs and rotten smell.

It sees you and pauses. There are soft clicks, the sounds bouncing back and forth. You frown, watching as they all stop moving, the clicks drifting between them at different intervals and cadences like… a language.

They’re speaking.

Whatever they are, they have some sort of intelligence. The humanoid shapes are all wrong, but you can vaguely sense something thrumming inside of them that is both like you and not. Your stomach flips at the implication that you can sense the creatures the way you sense Jungkook stopped at a fork in the tunnels, unsure of which way to go.

The clicking stops. You turn your attention away from Jungkook, narrowing that feed of awareness tied to him to the barest thread. For a moment, you and the first creature stare at one another. The next moment, it’s charging forward faster than you expect.

You duck as the creature slams into you. The breath leaves your lungs, feeling as though you’d been hit with the force of a thick wall, but you push up with your back as the creature topples over you, sending it sprawling. Your sword hand is fast, flicking in an arch to sever the head as the creature stumbles to regain balance.

The narrow space immediately becomes a problem. The next creature is on you, teeth snapping hungrily as you back up, stepping and slipping slightly on the ichor leaking from the dead body beneath your feet. There’s no room to swing your sword, so you’re forced to twitch the blade back and forth, parrying sharp stabs from your assailant.

Just like the creatures in the ballroom, these are uncoordinated. Their stabs aren’t fast enough, joints cracking and twisting awkwardly in lurching motions as they attack. Cutting through them is difficult in the lack of space. They press in on you, making you track backward to give yourself more room to fight. It’s not ideal – you’re leading them toward where Jungkook and the others have started moving again.

“Fuck,” you snarl, tasting foul ichor on your tongue as it sprays you from a sharp wound on the neck of one of them. It bellows and claws forward.

Summoning air in the tunnel you thrust a hand out, punching toward them with wind. It rips through the halls, whistling as the air rushes past you in violent torrents. It slams into creatures, propelling them backward.

While they’re crumpled and disorganized in a pile, you take ground back, advancing on them. They clamor over one another, shrieking and twitching their wings as they regain a sense of control. You summon wind again, ready to send another blast when a raw scream rips down your mental tether with Jungkook.

It’s violent and invasive, prying open your connection and funneling unfiltered pain and wrath into your own mind. Your vision goes white for a second as the emotional tidal wave of Jungkook overwhelms you, unexpected and uncontrolled.

A spark of blue is the only warning you get from one of the hellish creatures. You barely react in time, summoning wind again at a greater force. It screams toward you, quick enough to meet the blue flame of Hellfire as it fills the hallway.

Heat scorches against air. You scream in alarm. For a moment, you think your makeshift airwall won’t be enough to keep you from being turned to soot.

It holds, a steady wind current coming down the tunnel. Dust, dirt, and mice get picked up in your vacuum, spinning and slamming into the solid, opaque wall of air. You keep your energy focused on the wind as much as you can, Jungkook’s mental screaming almost too much of a distraction as you try and close the mental door between the two of you.

But Jungkook is untrained and the son of Sariel. His connection to you is strong and whatever he’s experiencing on the other side of the tunnel system is a deeper well than you knew he was capable of.

Gritting your teeth, you dig down into your well of power. It’s always there, a bottomless pit of energy and ability to use your gifts. Some witches call it magic. Faeries call it glamour. Angels call it grace and there is a spark of it there, tiny and imperfect, but enough for you to sustain the wind and shut the door on Jungkook just enough.

Snippets rush by you. They’re at the mouth of an entrance somewhere – almost out of the tunnel system. But they’re fighting – you sense more creatures and… others. Demons. Jungkook’s rage is a storm, battering down on your connection to him and exploding out of him as he fights.

Get out of the tunnels, you demand. Jungkook I need you to at least get out of the tunnels.

There is no acknowledgment that he’s heard you. There’s only screaming wind, the song of his fury, and heat building up on the other side of your wall. You smell molten metal and realize the creatures are going to bring everything down.

Jungkook, you scream at him. There is nothing on the other side, just anger threatening to swallow him whole. Jungkook!

Nothing.

Gritting your teeth, you shift a few steps back. You take a deep breath, feeling the heat on the other side of your air wall, and you shove hard through your mental tether. You feel Jungkook’s awareness, fire and rain. He feels you now.

Get out the fucking tunnel or I will kill all of you. This is your last warning.

And it is. Jungkook is useful. Using him is easier than the alternative, and having to come up with an additional plan after killing him while trying to escape the city is far too complicated, and near the realm of impossibility.

Sweat begins to form on your hairline. You feel the slick on your legs and your palms, the air over-warm. It continues to get hotter and hotter, kicking up several notches. Azure swims on the other side of the air you feed into your protect. It flares, growing stronger off the oxygen you provide it, but you have no other choice.

Silver drips from the ceiling. You look up, spotting liquified metal oozing through the earth’s ceiling.

Go. Jungkook’s voice is nearly a whisper. You realize you’re screaming with the force of the power you’re feeding into your wind. His words are like a release, a flip switching as you dive headfirst into the electric current of your lightning.

It’s an explosion. Heat and electricity meet in a caustic battle, the walls and floor rumbling as your lightning pulses from you more like a wave than bolts. You hear the crack, feel it vibrate your ears, and then there is only loud ringing as you stumble backward.

Dust, ash, and metal fill the air. You’ve brought down half the tunnel and you’re splayed on your ass.

Rolling over on your stomach, you try and push yourself to your feet. You slide in dirt and darkness. It’s difficult to breathe, the air filled with static and heated enough that your skin feels like you’re on fire. You manage to find footing and retreat towards where Jungkook and the others have gone.

Nothing follows you.

The high-pitched ringing does not leave you. A bit dizzy, you follow the thread of Jungkook’s existence, feeling the thread between you pull you toward him. His rage has turned to agony, and you know someone is dead, though you cannot discern who.

When you finally reach the surface, you understand.

There are masked Vaesen littered around an empty warehouse. You’re close to the Celadon River, the taste of salt in the air as it filters in from the sea. You cannot hear beyond the scream of your damaged ears, but the wind here is cool, coming in through a giant hole in the ceiling, freshly singed.

Similar creatures that hunted you into the halls lay in pieces. Jungkook stands expressionless, ringed by bodies. It seems the fight was centered on him, death laying quietly at his feet. Yoongi and Taehyung stand a few feet away, expressionless. Watching.

A single shaft of moonlight shines on Jungkook through the broken ceiling. It paints half of his face silver, his eye rimmed silver. The rest of his face in shadow. It’s an eerie picture, half of him light and dark, split between two worlds. A child slithers down your spine as your eyes drift away from the thunder in his expression to his feet, where his eyes are fixed and you see the source of his unending agony.

Jihoon and his family are no more.

Namjoon is the only other person at the apartment. You eye him warily as he stands in the living room, arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches the holoscreen. Images of the party flash on the screen. There are videos from security cameras, starlets filming the chaos while at the party, and media drones outside of the building as the police force descended on the scene.

Reporters stand in the carnage. There are still broken bodies of Vanir, stepped over as the reporters lead their filming drones through the rooms. You can see Vanir tied to leashes on chairs. Again, you don’t look at their faces.

After appearing from the tunnel to find Jihoon and his family dead, you were ushered home immediately. You went without negotiation, casting a single look at Jungkook. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, his expression flitting between exquisite pain and nothingness.

Sensing your presence, Namjoon turns his head a fraction to look at you. His eyes harden and his jaw flexes, onyx eyes not leaving you for a second. You remember your perceived place with him, casting your eyes to the screen to ignore the way he burns holes through you with just a look.

“Go away,” he grunts. “Your presence is bothersome.”

“I’m sorry, dominus.” You make your voice light and airy. “Why has master not come home with me?”

Calling Jungkook master burns your tongue. You make yourself look small, tucking your chin to your chest and curving your shoulders inward, like you’re bracing to be hit. You play with the hem of your shirt, which is too big like the rest of your clothes.

Namjoon scoffs, not buying it. “Because he has to deal with this fucking mess.”

“I should be with master- “

“Drop the act. Whatever you are, it isn’t Carved. If Jungkook wants to keep you and do whatever he wants with you, that’s fine.” You glance up at him. He stares you dead in the eye. “But I don’t like you and I don’t trust you. Stay in your lane, I’ll stay in mine.”

Namjoon leaves the room, the holoscreen casting blue light on the empty space. You listen to him go. He goes to his own room at the far end of the apartment and shuts the door loudly.

“Dick,” you mutter, entering the living room proper to look up at the screen.

The sound is muted, only showing the chaos. “Elide, volume on.”

“State access name,” the apartment system responds, voice cool and clear. You recite your name. “Unregistered user.”

You snarl. “Elide, volume on.”

“State access name.”

“Jungkook.”

“Voice recognition failure.”

“Just turn the fucking volume on!”

The elevator door opens behind you. You whirl on your heel, teeth bared in frustration. Jungkook walks through the door, barely sparing you a glance as he says, “Stop yelling at the technology. I didn’t program you into the system.”

“I noticed.” He walks into the kitchen, tapping the corner of a cabinet. It unlocks and pops open, revealing shelves of liquor. He removes a bottle and taps the cabinet shut. “Didn’t think you needed it.”

“Well if you’d like me to get bored and burn the apartment down, that is an option.”

“Be my guest. I have others.”

“Humble.”

Dark rage hums under the surface. Jungkook moves around his kitchen slowly. He places a glass delicately on the counter, pulling the cork from the bottle before pouring himself amber liquid. You sniff. Whiskey of some sort.

Jungkook is silent, but his mind is a torrent of emotions. Blood pounds beneath the surface, a beast begging to escape. You can almost taste the chaos within him and yet… he keeps it there. Sipping his drink and leaning on the counter as he looks at the floor.

“Namjoon thinks I should kill you,” Jungkook mentions.

“Unsurprising.”

“Yoongi does too.”

You shrug. “The way of the fox is unknown to me.”

Jungkook’s mind is wide open. You reach for it while he sips his whiskey. He doesn’t register as you brush against his thoughts, trying to sort through them. His mental is in chaos, thoughts racing through his head and flashes of his brother being cut down. Of Kita’s screaming.

“Do you know what those things were?”

You picture the creatures at the party. Their staggered steps, their rotting breath. “Something made, not born.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means I’ve seen a lot of creatures for the hundreds of years that I have been alive, but I’ve never seen whatever those were. Those things are not natural.”

“Most of what is in this world isn’t natural.”

“They are not natural to any plane. I felt…” You trail off and shrug your shoulders.

Navigating his mind while it’s in chaos is hard. You’re looking for the thread of conversation from earlier that night, trying to understand what Jungkook had been talking about when he trailed off about being prepared for assassination attempts. But it’s convoluted and murky.

Jungkook glances up at you. His face is a mask. You must admit you’re impressed by the way he looks calm and collected with the storm raging inside of him, threatening to crack the façade at any moment. “Felt what?”

“You didn’t feel them? Like the way you feel me?”

“Are you telling me you’re one of- “

“No,” you cut him off. “Not in the sense of they are me. But you couldn’t feel them like… dots on a radar. Little signatures of something?” He shakes his head. You hum for a moment, letting the silence hang in the air before you say, “Your untrained mind nearly got me killed.”

A ripple of anger goes through him and his thoughts become more confusing. You sense him boiling under the surface, a steady tremor building and building and building.

A frenzy. Jungkook is nearing a frenzy. If you could get him to fall into it…. you examine him. Coming down from a frenzy would put him in a state of compliance and exhaustion, making his mind open to sift through like forgotten paperwork.

You decide to incense him.

“I mean it,” you snap when he doesn’t answer you. You square your shoulders and let your power drop into the room. “Your level of incompetence is worse than seraphim children. Total lack of discipline and an embarrassment to someone who was sired by Sariel.”

A flip switches.

Jungkook is pushing off the counter and moving toward you but you stand your ground, chin lifted, gaze cutting. His mask has slipped a fraction, lip curled. “What did you just say?”

“I said that your utter lack of control is insulting and beneath your station.”

“You are in no position to speak to me like that.”

You splay your hands. Jungkook heaves a few feet away from him. You see the wheels turning, sense his adrenaline shooting upward. You needle him further. “I think we both agreed that here, I’m in a position to do whatever I want.”

Jungkook is fast. He’s in front of you in moments, hand shooting out to grab you by the throat. You’re not surprised by the action as he slams you against a wall, sneering. But you are surprised by the giddy delight that shoots up your spine as his fingers close tightly around your base.

When he squeezes, it isn’t to cut off your air supply. You recognize the sign of dominance, the grip he has on a vulnerable part of you. It’s the most instinctual form of an alpha trying to regain the upper hand and you’re so delighted that you laugh.

“I own you,” Jungkook whispers. “Whether you want it, or whether I want to. I signed your papers. You are legally mine.”

You lift a leg and wrap it around Jungkook’s waist, tugging him toward you. He balks, hand going slack around your throat as your hips press against his. A wave of pleasure rolls through you but you focus on the way Jungkook stutters, pulling back from you.

“Yeah?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. “You have the upper hand, dominus?” His fingers tighten but he doesn’t respond. You roll your hips into his, feeling the confidence from a moment ago slip through his fingers like sand. “What happened? I thought you owned me?”

“You are walking a dangerous line.”

“You’re doing nothing about it.”

“What do you want from me?” he grits out, teeth clenched. He’s shaking, loss of control so near.

“You own me?” you goad. “Then fucking use me, Jungkook. You’re two seconds from a fucking demonic frenzy and you don’t even have the sense to fall into it.”

“I don’t do that.”

You lean forward. He leans away but you crowd his space, eyes searching. You notice a mole just below his flush mouth, something you’ve never seen before. It’s soft. Endearing. You ignore the observation as your mouth brushes close to his, sharing breath.

“You’re afraid of your demon,” you purr. He says nothing, breathing heavily as he watches you, pupils dilated. “Weak.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then feed the demon, Jungkook.”

Jungkook hesitate. You watch him, his jaw working and his eyes staring at you. You see the moment he gives over control to the demon part of him, pupils turning into saucers as his hand grips your throat tight. He leans forward, pressing in on your space until you’re chest to chest and his mouth is at the shell of your ear.

“If you wanted me to fuck you, why didn’t you just ask?”

Your hands go to his biceps, digging your nails in. He hisses, fingers pressing into the sides of your neck to restrict your breathing. “I thought you owned me,” you taunt. “I’m allowed to ask?”

It’s the final push he needs.

A shift happens in Jungkook. Swiftly, he drops you and flips you, slamming you chest first into the wall. It knocks the wind from your lungs, making you gasp as he crushes himself against you, nosing your ear. His breath is hot, sending chills down your spine. You grin, knowing you’ve got him going in the right direction.

You press your ass backwards into him, feeling his semi-hard cock in his pants. In his state, it doesn’t even need to be you Jungkook is attracted to. His demon side is wild, hungry to do anything to destroy, to fuck, to kill.

Demon frenzies enhance lust and violence, like adding fuel to a fire. Jungkook’s flame is stoked, his agony over his family members and his frustration blinding him as he rips the back of your shirt open, your scares and flesh on display for him.

“You want to be fucked like I own you?” he asks, voice low. “Fine.”

It's nothing new, being fucked like you’re owned. But this is different – it feels different. When Jungkook’s hands brush up your spine, they’re not violent. They’re inquisitive. Callused. You shiver under his touch, eyes shutting as he pulls the fabric of the ruined shirt off you.

Your nipples are pressed to the wall, providing friction. You give into it, letting that blissful stimulation bloom inside of you as he nudges your head to the side with his nose.

“Spread your legs,” he demands. His voice is barely a whisper. You do. “Not so talkative now, are we?”

“Is my commentating part of fucking me like you own me, dominus?”

A loud rip splits the air. Jungkook tears through your sweats, warm hands seeking the flesh of your ass. He grips your cheeks firmly, massaging the flesh as he ruts against you slightly. You moan, surprisingly not for effect but at the way you feel.

Rare is the occasion in which someone made you feel good during sex. It isn’t what you’re after, but it’s a bonus, letting Jungkook slip his hand between your legs to brush his finger through your folds. You're not dripping for him, but you let out a breathy sound as pleasure unfurls low in your stomach when he does it.

Even out of control Jungkook shows restrain. Your fascinated, split between panting against the wall as Jungkook’s skill fingers circle your clenching hole, gathering your wetness to slip toward your clit, applying light pressure as he circles the bundle of nerves.

Jungkook dedicates time to getting you worked up. His breath is warm against your ear, low grunts shooting more arousal straight to your core. For the first time in years, you’re dripping for someone. You can feel the slick on Jungkook’s fingers, your pussy warm and swollen for him as he continues to play with you.

Taking control of Jungkook’s thoughts is far from your mind now. You're distracted, fists pressing into the wall as Jungkook slips a finger into your entrance. You gasp, the pad of his finger brushing against your front wall, massaging your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you swear, seeing stars.

It becomes clear Jungkook knows what he’s doing, fucking his finger into you. You can hear the wet-slap of his hand against your pussy, worked up for him now as his clothed cock presses into your ass cheek.

“Such a tight fucking pussy,” he mutters. He doesn't seem to be talking to you as much as himself. “Cock is never gonna fuckin’ fit in here. Hmm. Oh well.”

He pulls his finger from you. You let out an angry sound, eyes flying open to glare at him over your shoulder. He pops the finger in his mouth, momentarily dumbing you as you watch him suck the shine from his finger. He doesn’t look at you when he’s done, hand working to pop the button on his jeans and tug his cock out.

When you look down, you realize that Jungkook is right. He might not fit, and it sends a little thrill through you, watching the way his heavy cock bobs against his shirt, dabbing it with precum as Jungkook only pulls his pants down enough to fuck you.

You’ve spent years tirelessly bouncing on a variety of cock and diving between the legs of mistress after mistress. Sex is not a stranger to you. Sometimes you remember vaguely enjoying a thing or two. Sometimes even when you didn’t like it, your body at least orgasmed.

Being used is something familiar – but you’re not being used now. Even if Jungkook thinks you are. Even as he thumbs the precum from the dark tip of his cockhead to spread it down his thick shaft, Jungkook isn’t in control.

You remember that as Jungkook leisurely pumps himself before brushing the tip through your now sticky folds. You press your cheek against the wall, sighing as he teases you. It feels good. You reach out with your mind, brushing Jungkook’s sightly. His walls are down, vulnerable. Your sneer turns into a loud moan when Jungkook pushes into your pussy on the upstroke.

The stretch is painful, your stomach plummeting as Jungkook splits you open. The glide isn’t slow. His instincts take over and he immediately fucks into you hard and deep, slamming your hips into the wall with his full weight with every thrust.

Jungkook fucks the breath out of you. One hand presses your face into the wall, your cheekbones and jaw throbbing with the force of it. His other hand grabs your hips, holding you in position as he fucks himself into you hard.

Pain-laced pleasure shoots through you. The sounds that drip from your mouth isn’t for show. Your toes curl and your head swims at the way he takes control, fingers pressed into your flesh, cock pressing deep deep deep.

You lose yourself in the slap of flesh on flesh and curses. He spits insults at you, and you growl in response, biting one of his fingers that strays too close to your mouth. You taste blood, grinning as the salt and iron tinged with honey pulls on your tongue. He smacks your mouth, the stinging making you trill with high-pitched laughter.

“Crazy Carved bitch,” he slurs. “Is this what you fucking wanted? To be fucked like this?”

“Fuck me harder, Jungkook.”

He presses your skull harder into the wall. For a moment, you think it might crack under the pressure. But you don’t break, and Jungkook listens, driving into you at a pace that would break anyone else. Anything else. But it doesn’t break you and it feels good to know that it doesn’t. To feel the way your pussy flutters around him as he fucks you with abandon.

So many people have tried to break you. So many. Many have almost succeeded, and yet you prevail. You keep going. You survive. You move on. You wait. You win.

Your orgasm mounts. You feel it building inside of you like the same electricity that gathered in that small hall to destroy. It coils and coils and coils. You become short of breath, sucking in hair as you tremble under Jungkook’s weight. His mind is flayed open and raw for the taking but you wait. Not yet not yet not yet.

Jungkook picks up speed. You feel his pace get sloppy and the change in rhythm pushes you over the edge. You come around him with a scream, vision going white as you hold your breath. You feel your entire body seize up, thrashing under him. Jungkook presses you against the wall, trapping you and making you take it as he thrusts one – two – three more times before coming with a curse.

The pace slows. The sweaty tension between you begins to dissipate. You feel Jungkook pull himself out, cum immediately running down your legs. His energy is lower now and when you manage to catch your breath and look at him over your shoulder, he’s swaying on his feet, fucked out expression on his face. He’s flushed, tip of nose red.

Your legs are shaking and sticky. You take a step toward him feeling the slide of your thighs against one another, made slippery by cum. You hold out a hand and he stares at it, eyes wide, expression blank. He’s in the fall after a frenzy, somewhere dazed between thoughts in his head.

Tentatively, Jungkook takes your hand. You leave the torn clothes on the floor, you leave everything. Namjoon surely heard everything, but the Hellhound minds his business as you lead Jungkook to your room. The half demon, half angel is suddenly pliant for you. Soft at the edges. Mute.

You sit him on the bed and he stares at you. Unmoving. Unthinking.

Brushing your mind against his, you feel nothing but static. The buzz of his thoughts is unorganized and sleepy. You keep the connection open, stepping into the bathroom to wash the cum from your legs, the sweat from your back and the blood from your face. You had not even realized that he split your lip.

In your room, Jungkook doesn’t move. He is listless and calm, steady breathing letting you know that he hasn’t gone to sleep just yet, but that he’s not entirely present.

Slipping into clothes and back into the room, you stand in front of him, eyes flickering over his face. Jungkook looks at you but he’s not really there. A tiny part of you hesitates. Knows that to violate his mind has always been your greatest fear of yourself.

But life isn’t fair, and you have been a slave for hundreds of years. You have suffered and you will suffer again in the future. And though you see something in Jungkook that you recognize, you know that to spare him is to admit weakness.

Pain is inevitable. Pain is constant. Pain is power.

Jungkook knows nothing of these tenants. Knows nothing of the life his mother lived before him, her principles, her heritage.

Sympathy is something you cannot afford to give him. So you push into his mind, seizing his thoughts. He doesn’t put up a fight. He hardly knows what you’re doing as you begin sorting through what’s there.

Minds are unique to each person. Though some of your fallen companions had similarities in the way their memories and thoughts were laid out, everyone had something unique. Jungkook’s mind feels like a thunderstorm at night, soft with the threat of something more. Something melancholy plays there, a tune that is familiar, but you cannot place.

You sift through the night's events. You see things through his eyes. Feel the contempt for those around him. Feel the apathy for the Vanir leashed to chairs and in cages. Feel the unfettered spark of adoration when he sees Kita. Feel the love for his brother, though you had not sensed it upon meeting Jihoon.

And there is love there. Maybe not in the form that humans or texts perceive it. But you taste the sweetness of the affection, and you understand that there are positive emotions when Jungkook looks at his older brother, no matter how complicated.

You sift through to running through the tunnels. Jungkook feels glad that he prepared. They had been worried as of late – there were confirmed movements of the rebel group Libram in the city. Confirmations of assets destroyed and vanishing members of the local government.

This surprises you. You were not aware that the rebels were so familiar with the city yet. The thought of the free cities is so distant from you that it feels odd to conceptualize that there are members of their organization in Lythos.

You follow the thread of Jungkook’s conversation with you from earlier.

But we are always prepared. It’s not often that someone tries to assassinate us, but...

But Jungkook had known that there was a growing presence of Libram in the city. And Belial had tortured you repeatedly for information on Libram, looking for any connection to the rebellion. To Michael. To the last remaining seraphim across the worlds.

You take a sharp breath. Jungkook’s feelings regarding Libram were wary. Laced with uncertainty and fear. You follow those thoughts, flipping through his memories looking for more information. Four assassinations on government officials. The destruction of one of the Kim’s synth mines. Liquidation of accounts that belonged to Belial through unknown methods and hackers.

For as long as you had belonged to Faustus to fight, you had kept your head down. You focused on living. Small moves and counter moves. You had not been looking for any news of Libram or their existence in the city, and until now, you had thought there weren’t many in the city. Whispers of the potential but nothing like what you’re seeing in Jungkook’s thoughts.

Carefully, you extract your mind from his and sit on the bed. With him tired and swaying, you offer him a nudge to go to sleep. He lays backwards, dark lashes fluttering shut. You watch him for a while, thoughts ruminating on the new information.

Libram being in the city is a factor that you did not calculate. You chew on your lips as you think of your next move. One way to gather the information you need would be through your Vanir contacts. You have so few. But the best way to get good information is through your Vaesen contacts, which are even fewer.

You think about the twisted creatures that killed Jungkook’s family. They did seem like... angels and demons twisted together. Like the stitching together of things that didn’t belong. Half-demons, half-angels were rare to begin with. But it was like they were trying to make something else.

Belial’s question comes back to you about Lilins. The children of Lilith herself, born from her savage rape of the Heavens, but specifically, the archangels. Unique creatures, with the perfectbalance. Enough demon blood to hide the angelic blood, and enough angelic blood to hide the demon.

The flicker of familiarity you felt when fighting those creatures sends a sinking feeling to the pit of your stomach. You look at Jungkook, asleep. He looks gentle in his sleep, lines smoothed out on his face. Round and childlike.

In the morning, you’ll go back to pretending. But for now, you pull your knees to your chest, setting your chin on top of them as you consider the options before deciding that you need to follow the sick feeling that twists your gut.

Because if you’re suspicions are right... Libram made those creatures that killed Jungkook’s family tonight, targeting Belial and his children. It puts you in a dangerous position, but also a favorable one if Libram discovers your existence and grows curious about how useful you might be.

Yet none of it relieves you. Because if those creatures are what you think they are, there are seraphim in the world that are trying to bring Lilins back to the fight. Lilins, the creatures solely responsible for bringing the Heavens down.

D E F I N I T I O N S

Adamas - metal made from the Heavens, favorite in weapons used by angels and fae

Carved – angels who have had their wings surgically removed and sold for ownership. The possession of an angel’s wings gives the owner power over the angel’s grace, thereby giving them power over the angel.

Collared – a Vanir who is owned as a slave. They are often identifiable by the custom collars their masters put on their necks.

Dominus – term used by a slave to their male identifying master

Huli jing - Chinese fox spirit; similar to the Kitsune

Lilins - the offspring of the First Demon, Lilith, an the seraphim, most notably with the angels Uriel and Raphael. They are the perfect balance of Vanir and Vaesen and were used as spies during the war.

Seraph - a single angel, one of the seraphim

Seraphim - species of angels associated with Christian heaven, soldiers of God

Triumvirate – the three Lords who rule the Realms – figures of the Underworld

Vaesen – creatures associated with Underworld Realms such as demons, daevas, sorcerers, vampires, wraiths, and monster-like creatures

Vanir – creatures associated with Heaven Realms such as angels, faeries, witches, dragons, demigods and any heavenly-like being

I am no longer doing a tag list. After several attempts to get this tag list to work and Tumblr refusing to tag correct/process the post, I just took them off. I'm removing taglists for 2023 anyways because of how difficult tagging has become (incorrect usernames, Tumblr eating tags, copy and pasting not working).

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#fic: carved #haliiimede writes #bts fanfic #bts smut #bangtan boys #jeon jun #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook bts #jjk #demon!jungkook #dark romance #minors do not interact #minors dni #dead dove do not eat

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marleyybluu · 1 year

Text

Double Date

Pairings: Oscar x black!OC

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, use of drugs (marijuana), my smut writing skills

Word count: 4.5k

this is the longest thing I've ever written but I'm sorry I was not splitting it so if your attention span runs long enough to read this, enjoy 😂also I didn't re-read or re-edit the beginning cus I'm too high rn so sorry in advance

ALSO some of this was inspired by Entergalactic on Netflix. If you guys haven't seen it I highly recommend that you check it out, it's a fucking masterpiece, the soundtrack is bomb, storyline is cute and it's so visually pleasing omg. Kid Cudi really did his thing.

"So, look I know you're in your post-breakup mourning period... but.." Carmen took her hoodie off her head to give a full scowl to her sister, she could already feel the question about to come out of her mouth and she was in no mood. Fresh out of a long relationship, Carmen was a weeping mess that barely saw the light of day for almost a month. The man she thought she would marry and live her life with seemed to have had enough of her and made it clear in those exact words. Harsh. And that's what really hurt the most. Not the typical "I don't think we're working out." But a gut-wrenching "I've had enough." With no explanation.

When she told her sister, Vanessa, she suggested that they burned his things before he came to collect them but she couldn't find it in herself to be that girl— her sister said that didn't have anything to do with her and decided she'd perform the act herself but Carmen did find it funny to see his reaction when he saw the pile of charred clothing on the sidewalk. She was appreciative of her sister, her built-in best friend.

Vanessa looked at her with puppy eyes. "But what?" Carmen answered. "Okay so there's this guy that I've been talking to, his name is Jose, and he wants to meet but I'm kinda nervous so I asked if it could be a double date and he said yeah that's cool-"

"Nessaaaaa." She groaned. She was in no mood to even see a man let alone go on a double date with one. "Pleeeease! Please Mini." She pouted using the nickname she gave her since she was born. Carmen rolled her eyes tossing her head back as she looked at the ceiling to weigh her options, she'd been cooped up in her apartment for a while and she was starting to miss going out for a little drink here and there but she just didn't want to see the opposite sex for a bit. But it was for her sister and her sister would do the same if the roles were switched.

"When is this?"

"Tonight."

"For fuck sake Nessa."

"Sorry. But please?"

Carmen sighed. "Fine."

"Yes!" Vanessa cheered. "What does he look like?"

The older sister scrolled through her conversation finally coming across a picture of the two men, pointing to Jose and the other guy who'd be joining them. Carmen took the phone to get a closer look. He wore a completely shaved head, moustache and goatee which suited him well in her opinion— her eyes darted between the two men noticing the matching tattoos on their neck, and her date with a teardrop one under his eye.

"Vanessa..."

Her sister grimaced. "Yeah?"

"Are they in a fucking gang?"

"...maybe."

She mentally cussed her sister out, she should've known that this was what she was getting into since Vanessa always had a type, but she already agreed to this predictable catastrophe.

The time for the date came quickly and Carmen was thoroughly underwhelmed as she got ready, already planning out what could go wrong in terms of her lack of social skills— she felt like she was already lucky enough to get a boyfriend the first time around due to her awkwardness and now she was being launched back into the dating pool. Sort of.

The sisters arrived at Dwayne's Joint, it was a new spot in town that they had talked about trying out and Vanessa figured tonight would be a good night as any. They sat inside a booth waiting for the boys to arrive, the two sisters giving off very different energies. Vanessa was excited while Carmen sulked ready to get this over with so she could go home, light a blunt, and go to sleep. "You look pretty." Vanessa complimented. Carmen tried her best to make the most of it, she did dress up in a casual black halter top and paired it with a brown skirt, around her waist were her regular waist beads with one sitting above her belly button and the other below it so her belly piercing could be seen. She threw a white knitted cardigan over it but would most likely take it off soon because she was getting a bit hot already.

Her locs, that haven't been retwisted in the month, had been brushed and put up in a ponytail so they'd be out of her face and look somewhat neat. If she had to say so herself, and she did, she looked good.

"Thanks. You look pretty too girly." Carmen smiled. Her expression soon faded when the bell above the door rang signalling a customer had walked in, her heart fell to her stomach when it was the two men they were meeting with. "Here come your boys." She mumbled. "Hush." Vanessa scooted out of the booth and opened her arms to Jose, her sister stood almost stunned that the man almost ran to her scooping her up in his arms and off the floor.

She grumbled at them. Is this what she was going to endure all night?

She and his friend stood awkwardly not knowing if to introduce themselves to each other or wait for their counterparts to do it. The two broke the hug and Vanessa smiled. "José, Spooky, this is my sister Carmen. Carmen this is Jose and Spooky."

Carmen delivered a small wave only to receive a nod from Spooky, he looked like he wanted to be there as much as she did. The four sat down, Vanessa sitting beside her date and Carmen with hers. For the first few minutes it felt like a normal double date as far as those go, Jose did ask Carmen a few questions and made conversation with the two girls but soon all his attention went to Vaness which was fine because that's who he came for anyway.

She didn't know what to say to this "Spooky" guy, every time she looked over at him he was just staring at everything else not even making the gesture to look at her plus he didn't look like he wanted to be bothered anyway so she just went on her phone until their food arrived.

There was constant giggling across the table and consistent compliments and it made her miss her relationship even more-- she used to be like that too and she wished she still was. Her thumb hovered over his contact name, she knew she should've gotten rid of it by now but she didn't want to, she contemplated texting him even if it was to have a conversation for the moment but she didn't so instead she put her phone down on the table and placed her hands in her lap.

"So..." A shockingly deep voice said next to her, she was surprised he could speak at all. "So... you don't say much."

Spooky chuckled. "Neither do you. Guess we have something in common."

"That and friends who drag us to blind dates I guess."

"That too."

Saving the tension in the air was the waitress holding their tray of food, Carmen was grateful for the interruption plus she was mad hungry. The group ate and chatted a bit. She was enjoying her food until her eyes wandered off to the door, she gasped and slid down in her chair causing all eyes from the table to be on her. "What? What's wrong?" Her sister asked. "Damien." She whispered.

Vanessa turned around spotting the ex-boyfriend with a new girl on his arm, she looked over at her sister. "Who's Damien?" Jose asked. "Um, he's someone she used to date."

"What are you scared of him?" He joked. Carmen shook her head, she sat up straight frowning at the new girl. It'd only been a month out of a four-year relationship, how come he had someone already? Was she always there?

She couldn't see it but Spooky saw her expression and the way her mood changed especially when she saw that they were walking toward them to get to a table behind them. "Of all the places." He heard her mumble. He sighed and decided to do her a favour. "Come closer."

"What?"

"Come closer." Carmen listened and shuffled as close as she could, Spooky swung his arm over her shoulder catching her by surprise but she wasn't so stiff anymore she kind of relaxed under him. Damien and his date were getting closer, his smile turning into a frown once he saw her and Spooky.

They stopped in front of her table. "Carmen?" She looked up and fake smiled. "Damien, hey. What's up?"

His eyes shifted over to Spooky who was giving him a death stare. "Nothing, just hanging out, decided to try this new spot."

The air was thick once again, he nodded at the boys who didn't even blink at him, he cleared his throat mustering "See you around." Before going about his business. Carmen let out a breath that she didn't know she was holding, her eyes stung as tears that she didn't want threatened to break their barrier. "You okay?" Spooky asked, she nodded going back to her food only able to take one bite before she knew that her tears were about to embarrass her.

She snatched her sister's car keys off the table and said. "I'll be back." Spooky got out so that she could, he watched her walk out of the establishment the last thing he heard was her whimpers.

"Aww, what's her problem?"

Vanessa's ears found that snarky tone. "Maybe she didn't wanna smell your funky asses sitting right behind her."

Damien's date turned around. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me dog tits." She laughed. The girl gasped. "Are you gonna let her talk to me like that?"

Before Damian could answer he looked up at Spooky who was still giving him a look of disdain. He closed his mouth and asked her to sit down before anything got worse. Spooky took it upon himself to go check on her, he wandered off into the parking lot and not too far from the door did he see her with her head down with fog around her and smoke coming from the windows with the smell of weed in the air.

Inside, Carmen's eyes were red from both the Indica and her tears, she sniffled closing her eyes and rested her head back. She knew coming out tonight would be a mistake. Willing to Trust by Kid Cudi played while the weed took over she felt herself being carried off somewhere else, floating around in her head until a small tap on the window disrupted her peace, she looked over to the passenger's side and to her surprise it was Spooky.

She unlocked the door inviting him inside, she turned down the music taking another hit of her blunt. Carmen sighed putting her feet up on the dashboard. Spooky noticed her Scooby-Doo socks and laughed, she scrunched up her nose stifling her laugh too but she couldn't help it. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything." He snorted. She looked over at him, her eyes falling on the details of the tattoo on his neck-- the crucifix that you'd more so see in Catholic churches but instead of Jesus and them on it the word Santos was etched into his skin, she scanned him until she landed on the other tattoo of the teardrop under his eye. "Something you wanna ask me?"

Spooky watched as she took another puff, checking her out just as much as she did him. She handed him her blunt and he gladly took it. "What's your real name?"

A dimple poked out when he smiled. "Oscar,"

"Hm, what caused Jose to drag you out of the house Oscar?"

He licked his lips and she didn't know if it was the weed but it made her tingle when he did that. "Eh, he's my hermano, just trynna be his wingman so he could get some pussy you know?"

He handed it back to her. "Gross." She giggled taking a hit. "Yeah? Like you're not helping your sister get some dick?"

"Fair enough."

The two sat in the car and talked for a surprisingly long time as if they were on their own separate date. It was a nice conversation and it helped take her mind off of her troubles for a bit, they hadn't even noticed how long they'd been gone until Jose and Vanessa came out hand in hand with containers sitting in a plastic bag.

Oscar saw them making their way to the car and if he was being honest it was a bit disappointing, he was enjoying Carmen's company she was a fun person to talk to, she was funny, she had some pretty crazy stories to tell and he liked getting to know her. She rolled down the window to greet her sister. "Thanks for dining and dashing."

"No problem." Carmen winked. "Alright let's get you home girl."

She looked over at Oscar and back at her sister and whispered. "Are you and Jose not... you know?"

"I want to but I mean I can just take you home."

She lightly shook her head, her sister getting the hint and smirking. "Um, Spooky do you mind taking my sister home? I mean if that's okay with you, Carmen?"

"Yeah, that's cool with me." She looked over at Oscar with hopeful eyes and he agreed to take her so they switched cars and were left in the parking lot watching the other pair get into the car and drive off. He walked her over to his Red Impala and she was sort of impressed by it, it was a beautiful vehicle and the interior was just as nice.

They wasted no time falling back into the conversation they were having before, leaving the venue and driving around with no destination in particular until Carmen suggested ice cream-- her munchies were kicking in and she was craving something sweet. They pulled up to an ice cream parlour that wasn't too far from her apartment complex, it was sort of empty except for maybe a group of drunks who were in the same predicament as they were.

"So, this Damien guy..." He started. Carmen saw that he was asking for permission to talk about and she nodded granting it. "How long was that?"

"Four years."

"Damn."

She laughed, that was almost everyone's reaction, assuming it was because that was getting rare nowadays. "I know. Hm, I thought everything was fine and perfect and one day it wasn't." She sighed drawing circles on the table with her nails. "You know, you plan your life together, everything is we and ours and us... then it's not and you're being told how they've had enough."

Oscar half smiled. "Well, that guy's fucking stupid for letting you go ma. Stop dating these square-ass bitches."

Carmen burst out at his attempt to console her, it was funny and it was cute and maybe he was right, maybe she needed someone who wasn't so uptight she did find that being with Damien sometimes required treading lightly on things and it could be annoying but she just accepted it, maybe now she needed someone who was more like... Oscar. So far she found him to be fun, and he sounded like he was down for anything as long as it was amusing.

A text came in on her phone lighting the screen, instead of reading the text she read the time and her eyes widened. It was almost 2 am. "Everything okay?" He asked. "Uh, yeah, just Nessa asking if I got home okay."

He slowly nodded looking at her lips, her septum piercing sitting just above her Cupid's bow another piercing planted on her right nostril, the light freckles scattered across her pretty brown skin, the subtle makeup on her face and her pretty natural lashes coated in mascara— he felt like he was staring at an angel. She started to blush and looked down at her lap.

"You ready to call it a night?"

She wasn't, but it was already late as hell. "Yeah, guess we should go."

They left the shop and once again entered the car, the ride was kind of silent aside from her giving him directions to her place but it wasn't a weird silence like how the night started, they were officially comfortable with each other. The ride was short considering she did live by the ice cream place. Oscar turned off the car and opened his door, Carmen sat a bit confused.

"What? You thought I was letting you go up there by yourself? Come on, ma."

She beamed, the little nickname growing on her, she trailed behind him like a lost puppy into the building and inside the elevator, she clicked for the fifth floor and leaned against the handrail. She looked at him noticing one of the buttons on his flannel shirt was unbuttoned, without processing it she reached over and fixed it for him. Oscar thought the minor detail was sweet, made his heart jump a little when she got close, close enough for him to really smell her perfume that didn't fade away for the whole night— sweet like mangoes.

The doors parted and she went ahead of him to find her place. Apartment 504. He made a mental note, you know... just in case.

She fumbled with her keys and unlocked the door swinging it open and turning to face him.

Invite him in. Invite. Him. In.

"I-I had fun tonight. Really."

"Me too." He agreed. The two stood looking at each other not sure what to say or do, not knowing if they would be on the same page if action took place.

Kiss him. Just fucking grab him and drag him inside and just fuck the sh-

"I... um... I'll see you around?" He nodded wishing her goodnight before he crept down the hall and disappeared back into the elevator. Carmen closed her door and banged her fist against it. "So fucking stupid."

----

It was a nice and breezy afternoon in Freeridge but Carmen couldn't take notice, the events from two nights ago, though small, were playing through her mind, their conversations and laughter going on like a broken record. Vanessa sat across from her younger sister still in a bit of disbelief at what she was told earlier.

"So... no kiss?"

"No." She murmured. "No, dick?"

Carmen glared. "Bitch if we didn't kiss what makes you think we fucked?" Vanessa put her hands up in defence. "People fuck without kissing."

"Yeah, weirdos."

There was a moment of silence before she asked another question. "Not even a hug!?"

"For fuck sake Ness, no!" She completely folded over resting her forehead on the park table, she was frustrated at herself for not bringing him inside that night even if they didn't end up getting intimate she would've enjoyed just talking or even smoking until the sun rose. Doubts played in her head that maybe she was only feeling this way because she just got out of a relationship and he was the first guy in her line of sight, but last night felt so nice and relaxing, they got along so easily once it was just to the two of them.

Vanessa smirked taking a sip of her drink. "Okay, I'll be serious, why didn't you invite him in?"

She shrugged sitting up straight, she played with the straw in her cup. "Are you scared of him?"

"No."

"Do you think he's ugly?" Vanessa teased. "I don't."

"Girl, I know you haven't been in the streets for a long time but it's okay to think with your punani sometimes. No disrespect you've come to me complaining about your sex life sometimes, so if this is an opportunity to get some good dick, you better jump on it. Pun intended." Carmen ran her hands over her face letting out the longest groan knowing her sister was kind of right, she hadn't had to think with her punani in so long because if she wanted dick it was right there. She sighed. "Can you ask Jose for his number?"

A devilish smile spread across Vanessa's face. "I sure can."

The sun set as quickly as it rose and Carmen was back in her apartment after spending the day with her sibling, she was successful in getting Spooky's number but had yet to text him, every time she opened the empty thread her thumbs would ghost over the keyboard and she'd chicken out turning off her phone. She decided to leave her phone alone and took a quick shower to cool her down but it wasn't helping.

After her shower, she doused herself in cocoa butter and sprayed a little perfume to feel extra good before putting on her oversized grey sweater with the Space Jam characters scattered over it.

"Alexa, play Angel by Kid Cudi." It had recently become her favourite song to smoke to.

"Playing... Angel by Kid Cudi."

Perfect.

She lit a spliff she had rolled earlier and made a mental note to hit her plug for some more loud since this was her last. A moment to herself in this big-ass apartment, she was getting used to being by herself and in some way found peace in it. Her phone buzzed and she looked down at a text from her sister.

LochNess🐍: Did you text him yet?

Carmen put her phone down telling herself she'd answer once she was done having her moment, until another interruption came, this time it was a knock on her door. She was confused, no one really came to see her unless it was her sister. She sighed outing the last bit of her spliff in the ashtray and trotted to the door, she looked through the people and gasped when she saw who was on the other side. She quickly unlocked her entrance revealing Spooky on the other side.

"Spooky... hi."

She didn't know it but Spooky was nervous, he came over after Jose told him he gave Carmen his number he didn't have much of a plan or a script of what he was going to say to her. On the other hand, she was thinking about what her sister had said earlier, it was okay to think with her pussy for once and she did. It took both of them by surprise when she pulled him down by his black shirt connecting their lips, like a scene straight out of a book she tugged him inside and he reached back closing the door behind him.

He glided his palms across her lower back and down her bum grabbing a handful of her bare supple skin, she was soft and smelled so sweet. Carmen giggled feeling her feet leave the floor, legs soon wrapped around his waist. He slid off his shoes and walked over to her couch. Surprisingly none of this affected their kiss, chasing each other in desperate neediness. He sat with her in his lap, hands resting on her hips. They pulled apart for less than a second before he began to nibble at her neck, she smiled lazily letting out a hazy laugh at his facial hair tickling her skin.

Oscar gave her one last kiss on the neck before leaning back on the couch, she caught his eyes running down her body. "What?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. Heard you been thinking about me." Carmen groaned and buried her face in her hands, he chuckled at her sudden shyness. "I'm gonna kill that woman." She whined. Oscar moved her hands away and held them in his own. "Don't. I been thinking about you too." He said before cupping her chin, pulling her down this time.

Clothes were in a rush to be removed, tossing every piece on the floor until the cool breeze came in touch with their bare skin. Carmen hummed feeling his teeth graze against her sweet brown skin, his thick fingers padding down her torso and dipping between her legs. Oscar groaned at the feeling of her slickness coating his fingers, a light gasp followed by a whimper graced him as he pushed his fingers inside her cove. Her nails lightly dug at his biceps. If she was being honest, she just was willing to skip the foreplay, she wanted him and she wanted him now.

She whined wrapping her legs around his hips, he laughed breathlessly knowing what she was asking for so he stopped playing and gave it to her. He removed his fingers and lifted his head from the crook of her neck, his chain dangled in her face as he hovered over her his eyes gracing her every feature. A slick remark was about to come out of her mouth but was quickly shut down and replaced with a quiet moan feeling him fill her up completely.

Their chests pressed together as he returned to his position, his lips back on her neck adding to the feeling below. She whimpered feeling that first stroke, the second one so slow and delicate he wanted her to feel him against her walls, the third really hit-- it was a hard thrust, an erotic groan sounding from both of them. Carmen held him close, with every collision a new sound spilled from her plump lips, sounds she didn't even know she could make.

"Feels so fucking good, oh yes!"

He left sloppy kisses on her skin. "How are you so fucking wet? Hm?" His tone was cocky and she couldn't lie, the pleasure he was giving her had earned him that right. Her trembling legs never left from around his waist, using her body to beg him to go deeper. His hand collided with her hip squeezing her tattooed flesh in his grip. "Where's my answer mama?"

"You made me so wet." Carmen whimpered. "Shit! Right there!"

Oscar was pounding into her soft spot so hard her eyes disappeared to the back of her head, her legs came loose as she tried to push him off but he wasn't budging, he smirked ignoring her plea for him to ease up, she was close anyway he could feel it. Her pussy gripping him like she owned him and from now on it did. He was hooked, he was dizzy, he was ready for round after round— he never wanted to leave inside her.

He leaned down capturing her shivering lips in a slow kiss, tongues sliding past each other. He groaned when she would struggle to kiss back. "Spooky... fuck I'm cumming!"

Her nails clawed up his sides and dug into his skin once her hands reached his back. "Cum for me princesa." The words barely left his mouth when her back arched, her nails dragging down his back until her hands were right above his cheeks, she was pulsating around him. He slowed down his thrusts dragging out her orgasm for as long as he could and until she tapped out. They lay there out of breath and in a lustful aura. Carmen had finally started to breathe normally before Oscar picked her up and carried her off to an open room that he assumed was hers. She laughed when he tossed her onto the mattress.

"I'm not done with you yet, hm, I want you to always think about me."

I know I promised Rio but i finished this first so boooo

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic. comments and reblogs help and are deeply appreciated

be cool as always🤙🏾

#oscar diaz #black!OC #spooky #spooky x OC #spooky x black!OC #oscar diaz x black!OC #oscar diaz x OC #spooky fanfic #spooky fanfiction #on my block fanfic #on my block #on my block fanfiction #poc OC #smut #oscar diaz smut #marleywrites #marleysfanfictions #Spotify

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 2 days

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Nisha, did you know I would step on some legos barefooted for you? Anyways can’t wait to read for another fandom I have never stepped foot in and would probably never engage with the canon in just because you decided that’s what to make, and I’ve decided to read it anyways. Home cooked meal. -Rotten Anon

The opening line of this message made literal cartoon anime hearts appear above my head, just so you know <3

Also you have inspired me to post a rundown of my WIPs because I am really excited about what I have been working on. And for two of these fandoms, I know you have said you know nothing about the canon, but for the third, I am not sure, so we'll see.

My Current WIPs April/May 2024

Heaven's Gate (for The Walking Dead) - Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader. Strangers to Lovers/Soulmates/Lovers Reunited. Angst, Fluff, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 1 to Season 5. 17k in counting (will be a oneshot). You can find a preview here. In this fic, you and Daryl get separated when the Governor attacks the prison, and though you both believe the other person is dead (or long gone) you find each other at the most unlikely time, in the most unlikely place.

I am super excited about this fic, and the themes of hope that I have woven into it. Because yes, I unironically love writing about hope and how the human spirit can persevere - which is something that my favourite moments in The Walking Dead show. This is first draft complete and just needs to be edited.

The Jaws of Life (for DC Titans) - Jason Todd x GN!Reader. Sequel to Emergency Contact. Lovers Reunited. Extreme Angst, Smut, Hurt and (some) Comfort. Set during Season 3. 21k in counting (will probably be a oneshot - if it needs to be split up, it will be put in two parts, but I hope I can get away with a oneshot). (I highly recommend that everyone go read the original in the meantime, because it is one of my best fics ever.) In this fic, you and Jason struggle with the new meaning of your relationship after what happened with Deathstroke - only for this tentative change to be harshly disrupted by the Joker. And you're still heavily mourning when a red hooded stranger breaks into your apartment one night, seeking medical care because apparently - you owe him one.

Everyone give Jaycen @nctzenkane a big fucking round of applause for this one, because he was randomly talking to me about Jason Todd today (we were having the 'some characters are only fuckable in costume' discussion) - and I got talking about how this version of Jason from Titans makes me so passionate to write about the character. And it is solely because of him that I opened up this fic and took a good look at it - I have been thinking about this fic for months, wanting to finish it because I know I am gonna be proud of it, but I kept hesitating because I thought I had a way bigger mountain to conquer with it. But the conversation I had with Jaycen really inspired me and I wrote 5k on the fic just today, and I realized that with this momentum, I could have the first draft done by the end of this month. So I am promising myself that this is gonna be done soon.

Speaking of which - when The Jaws of Life is first draft done, I wanna host a poll so you guys can decide which of those two ^^ fics goes through the editing process to be posted first. Both will be posted (hopefully) by the end of May, but I do wanna know which one you guys wanna see posted first. Which leads me to:

Nasty (for Stranger Things) - Sub!Eddie Munson x Dom!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. 3k (this is gonna be a shorter fic lmao). In this fic, you and Eddie have been dating for a while, but you don't like that all of his attempts to have sex with you have him taking on a (seemingly fake) dom persona. When you finally tell him that you prefer to be more dominant in bed, he isn't disgusted like you thought he might be - he loves it.

This is one I have been sitting on for a while, and right before it was ready to be posted - my brain lost interest in it like tiktok does micro trends. But I think this is gonna be really great to post while the poll for those other fics is cooking because it's short and sweet and for the past few days, whenever I have seen the cover for this in my drafts, I have gotten excited about it again. So I am excited to finish it and show it off to everyone!!

#rotten anon #anonymous #sundrop answers #curren wips #wips #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #jason todd x reader #dc titans #eddie munson x reader #stranger things

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foyle-writes-things · 24 days

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So hi! The name is Foyle, formerly known as (that-cyber-writer/that-chibi-writer).

As far as writing goes- I've been doing this for a hot minute (sent my first query letter at 15 f'in years old what pluck i had as a child lol), and among my works I can include:

A high fantasy novel

An Urban Fantasy YA Novel Based on Them Thar Greek Gods

And a few other Urban Fantasy Style Novels (because they are fun sue me)

However, more recently I've stepped into a space where sci-fi, hacking, technology, and crime/psychological-thriller all intersect.

Blog Break Down:

@foyle-writes-things Will be my main account from now on, will mostly be limited to my writings if I decide to start posting snippets again.

@foyle-fumbles For shit-posting and signal boosting other writers.

Shoot me a note if you want to be on my tag list 🫡

-Tags-

TangledWires (for snippets)

foylefumbles (for my commentary and more)

WIPS UNDER THE CUT....

-WIPS-

Tangled Wires Book 1 (STATUS UPDATE: complete in last round edits before beta/professional editing)

Raz knows two things, computers - and that people can't be trusted. However on the run, and with the head of the Russian mob seeking to put her back in a cage Raz must quickly decide if Emet Shultz of the FBI can be trusted, and if he can help her unlock the treacherous secrets of her past. As the past reveals itself, one thing becomes clear- nothing is as it seems, and sometimes lies are easier to stomach than the truth.

Ethereal Mischief: Book one of the EM Trilogy (complete)

Summary: Okay, really. Who expects to be murdered on their birthday? Definitely not Althea; and especially not by a god straight out of mythology. Hades however, is real and hell bent on using Althea as a tool to fulfill his own desires. From her own identity to her mother’s death, Hades reveals that her entire life has been a carefully constructed lie. In a world where a broken promise can lead to a lifetime of debt, Althea must fight against those who seek to control her.

Divine Intervention: Book two of the EM Trilogy (also complete but first draft)

Summary: Dealing with the reality that mythology is NOT in fact myth was one thing. Dealing with the fact that her dead mother was NOT in fact dead- but a goddess, and very much alive was another. Now Althea has new problem. As real as the Greek God of pantheons has become, she is suddenly dragged into a deep feud between the Greek and Norse pantheon, when twin girls show up on her doorstep half dead and desperate to get home. Will Althea be able to help them? Or will helping them only push her further down the path to madness?

A World Apart (in progress)

Summary: Ya Fantasy novel split between the lives of two young women in parallel dimensions (urban fantasy YA).

Legends of Taelaec (completed)

Summary: High fantasy story about young girls discovering who they truly are after the tragic and sudden death of their mother (high fantasy).

#writer #writerblr #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #foylefumbles #back on my bullshit already folks

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psychobratuserunknown · 12 days

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Eleanor's masterlist★

hey howdy hey! welcome to my blog, thanks for stopping by :)

rules

✦ this blog is for females only. males dni

✦I write scream characters x reader + marvel characters x reader

✦requests are closed

✦any rude or ignorant / asks that make me uncomfortable will be blocked!

✦under no circumstances are anyone under 18 to interact with this blog.

navigation

#Eleanor answers- for when i answer inbox asks, or post rambles.

#eleanor's recs - for other writers' fanfics i reblog.

read this tutorial if you want to read my fics with 'mature' community labels!

requests: closed | taglists are discontinued

events

BUCKY BARNES

SERIES

A second chance at love

Beatrix gets left at the altar by atlas. while also loosing her part-time teaching job. she discovers that her ex-fiancé fell in love with someone else. he was also going to take her on THEIR honeymoon. while he is on their honeymoon with his new girl bea takes things into her own hands by selling his belongings and moving away from the apartment they shared.

A little touch of heaven

Sophie, a young woman with dark, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes, made the bold decision to leave behind her bustling home town of Manhattan, New York and start a new life in sunny California. She needed to escape from her controlling father after the avengers split apart, leaving her feeling lost and alone. On a whim, Sophie decided to venture out to a random bar one night in hopes of finding some solace. Little did she know, fate had other plans for her as she unknowingly stumbled upon one of the avengers, a group of extraordinary individuals who had captured her imagination since childhood. As she sat at the bar, sipping on her drink, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and curiosity at the thought of finally meeting one of these legendary heroes in person. Little did she know, this chance encounter would change her life forever.

ONESHOTS

desire play

At a lavish party, the protagonist attends with Natasha, who convinces her to attend. They are greeted by a bartender who introduces them to Bucky, who reveals himself as a man with primal desires. Bucky invites them to an upstairs bedroom, where they indulge in a frantic, sexual encounter. As they leave, Natasha notices their excitement and curiosity. Bucky reveals that he needed to talk to them, and they exchange unspoken promises. Natasha teases them about their recent encounter, and they both feel exposed and vulnerable. Natasha reveals that she knew about the situation, but she continues to pull them back into the party, causing tension to build between them.

DRABBLES

BILLY LOOMIS

SERIES

Whisper of slaughter - billy Loomis (WIP)

ONESHOTS

DRABBLES

MISELLANEOUS FICS

SERIES:

Whisper of slaughter - billy Loomis (WIP)

ONESHOTS

Fingering - billy Loomis [💌] deleted :(

you wake up to a anonymous phone call in the middle of the night, when you have enough and hang up, only to be awaken a few hours later by a tapping noise at your bedroom window

Teasing - randy meeks [💌] re-written

you are working one of your regular shifts at the video store, when after close your boss asks if you can stack and organise the new releases out the back when you get a special visitor

Over the desk - billy + stu [💌] deleted :(

sam asks if you can look for her jacket in her fathers office when you over hear him with a friend.

Interview with a killer - Ethan Landry [💌] re-written

you get invited to interview with a known serial killer. you get a bit of a shiver down your spine. once you meet him, you understand why all of the other interviewers couldn't resist him

DRABBLES:

CREDITS

@animatedglittergraphics-n-more for the dividers :))

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somany-fandoms-solittle-time · 7 months

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“What’s so Special About the Moon?”

Jamil Viper x MC(insert character Mac)

(Ch. 1) – Ch. 2 – Ch. 3 – Ch. 4 – Next – Previous

This was originally supposed to be, like, a single chapter hurt/comfort before my OC (Mac) and Jamil as a song fic where they berate him and then sing a song referencing the moon… but then I had feelings and it’s becoming a more in depth character study between the two. Don’t worry! By the end of this mini series, there will be song lyrics and more sappiness… it’s just now that I’ve finished both Book 4 and Book 5, I need to reorganize the events and specific and whatnot. Some quick housekeeping as always: I tried to make Jamil to encompass both his dark & mysterious villain persona ALONG WITH him practically being a fucking child so that’s why I wrote him like *this* so yeah… I’m moving around the timeline so that Yuu/MC (aka Mac) has the weekend to GET THEIR SHIT TOGETHER LOL, Mac is about 19-20 (haven’t decided yet) and uses mixed pronouns as a heads up, Ch. 2 has a 1st draft written put still needs to be typed up and edited. If you see a typo NO YOU DIDN’T!!! This one of my first times trying a different writing doc that isn’t Google (cuz fuck Google) and it’s a little weird to get used to and edit stuff. It’s beta-d in the sense that licking the spatula while your mom bakes cookies and claiming that you helped… literally only a few paragraphs were checked over y’all.

Quick shout-out to @krenenbaker and @twst-beam for inspiring my writing thus far (and sorry for taking so long to post this lol!)

I’ll be releasing some type of overview of my OC eventually, but take these snippets as they go while I fall back in love with writing. You’ll meet Mac in full when xey are good and ready… anyway, please enjoy Chapter 1 of my new fanfiction, “What’s So Special About the Moon?”

“Here. You can use this one,” Jamil directed towards the plain (compared to the rest of the dorm) laundry… mat? There were several industrial sized washer and dryers, a couple moderate-sized one’s that would fit a regular apartment complex, and a long wall designated area for hand washed items. Jamil was keeping the door prompt open with his hips; his slight frown of concentration and the flick of his Magic Pen were the only signs of the current spell he had going. Turning around, MC was slightly surprised by the massive piles of fabric that was being corralled in via multiple a massive sheet tied to multiple brooms. They still couldn’t fully grasp the concept (and power) of magic and seeing it so casually performed on a day-to-day basis was kinda daunting.

“Thanks again for letting us use the space along with showing me how to properly clean all these fancy duds and whatnot.” the Ramshackle Perfect awkwardly trailed off. Their focus was split between stealing peaks at the Scarabia Vice Warden, not wanting to bother the already busy Sophomore, and surveying over the dusty, damaged antique pieces the two stripped from the halls of the previously abandoned dorm. Rugs, carpets, curtains, furniture covers (in varying state of disrepair) dulled of their once rich and vibrant color. The patterns were a mix of stuffy academia and the quiet comfort of a grandparents cottage living room. Both extravagant, yet understated. It’s a style lost to time, but not quite a revived ancient aesthetic.

At this point MC was fully lost in thought; they desperately needed to clean, fix, organize and decorate the dorm in preparation to host so many guests. Even with his limited memories, they had a feeling they’d never hear the end of it from his parents.

“Don’t worry about it much.” Jamil said, interrupting their musings. “Honestly, I’m doing this as much for myself as I am helping you.

With a flick of his wrist, Jamil organized the seemingly random crumbled piles of fabric by condition, color and use. His movements while cleaning were quick, smart, and efficient-- all while patiently showing Mac which order to start in along with the best way to clean them.

“Ya’ know…” MC broke the relative quietness between the two workers, “Even with everything thing that happened over break, I understand why Kalim still trusts you; I almost can believe that you’re not that bad of a guy.” Jamil gave xem a startled (and exasperated) look, but they continued before he could respond: “I fail to see how helping the person who ruined your ‘world domination’ plans—”

“They were hardly World Domination level!” He quickly snapped. His embarrassment led to him tugging his hood further down his face, teeth slightly clenched, and dilated eyes as MC continued listing all the ways he’s “helped” them out.

The magic-less Perfect laughed to themselves the more conflicting emotions flew across Jamil’s face. Eventually those same emotions were compressed behind a cold, smooth mask. Limestone slabs and stiff mud brick walls were swiftly constructed between the two working-class students. Something about it didn’t sit right with Mac.

“Hey I’m not saying what you pulled wasn’t a dick move! But you’re also not the first overly-traumatized teen boy I’ve had to deal with… and between what you’ve said about yourself, plus thing’s I’ve heard and seen, I’m starting to think you’re not nearly as complicated as you think you are.” The longer they argued *to* him, the more Jamil’s mask began to crack; there were a few holes in his walls he didn’t account for. Xe’s a tad more observant than I remember, but weirdly just as persistent, Jamil internally rolled his eyes.

“I could still change my mind and send you back to deal with the Pomefiore Wrath(tm),” He mumbled while gracefully lugging the newly cleaned (and damp) furniture coverings into an empty drier. Despite his harsh threat, MC still remembered him assuring the other this laundry room was only ever used by him after Kalim’s parties.

The large machines and larger working space was specifically added for the servant to clean and repair any decor or Asim Family Treasures when Kalim’s recklessness caused a larger mess than usual. This meant that Mac and Grim (who was originally supposed to be helping… where the hell was he anyway?) could do as many loads needed without worry. On top of the borrowed space, the Housewarden himself had cheerily has assured them, his Oasis Maker would replace all the water used ten times over!

Mac’s thoughts were interrupted once again as Jamil relented, “I told you, I’m doing this to help me.” After receiving an unconvinced eyebrow raise, Jamil began to explain, “Kalim might’ve announced us as equals but I still have a job to do. If he got sick while spending Allah knows how long in a dusty, dirty, shabby condemned building like Ramshackle I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“It’s not nearly that bad anymore!” the sole-human resident of said dorm argued, but was quickly shut up with a tired gesture towards the untouched loads of laundry left to be done.

“On top of that,” Jamil smirked “Even a common peasant like myself wouldn’t sleep in a rundown garbage heap if I can help it.” His smirk slowly slide off his face from his face as the insulted Perfect almost ripped the handful of soapy doilies, that they were previously scrubbing by hand, as xey prepared a retaliation.

“OK, first of all! This whole Inferior-Superior shtick isn’t going to prove your point. If I’m being totally honest, I’m pretty used to the bratty, arrogant attitude of teenagers by now (even if I wasn’t Leona is a thousand times worse).” They turned their full body to face the 2nd year boy before continuing the assault. “Secondly, even just doing the bare minimum would’ve been fine, considering I’ve slowly been deep cleaning them place room by room. This is just last minute cleaning considering I wasn’t expected to host six extra people in two days.”

The shock of Mac’s care and attention to detail couldn’t win over Jamil’s newfound freedom to be right… and sassy while doing it. “Keep in mind you wouldn’t be the only one having to deal with Vil. His expectations are much higher than my personal standards—”

“Getting there!” MC interrupted again. “It’s not like Vil and whoever else couldn’t magic things better or get things done over at Pomefiore.” However, their fire started to die down with their obvious lack of understanding of magic. Not that Xeir level of intellect ever stopped them from talking out of their ass during debates… even if this wasn’t exactly shaping up to be anything like Debate Club back home.

“Not the point!” Mac built back their steam after thoughtlessly shaking off any internal distractions. “Third of all,” Jamil groaned not-so-quietly, “third of all, you didn’t have to show me how to do it. Nor did you have to continue helping me. There’s only so much I could pay you back in favors and it’s not like you’ll make back the time and energy spent. You’re obviously a bit of a piece of shit but I don’t totally blame…”

Jamil suddenly gave Mac his full attention. He smoothed any emotional tells from his face and readied himself to actively dissect what ever left xeir mouth and any messages in between the lines. The silence prompted Mac to drip extra sincerity as they begin to ramble without thinking.

“… I get why you did what you did. You’re not totally forgiven, but it’s not like I’ll hold a grudge over you forever. Whenever I joke about Winter Break I thought you knew it was just that: a joke.”

The two stared at one another for a few beats. Jamil betrayed nothing that he was thinking, but Mac could practically feel the exasperation flooding off of him in great waves. The disbelief pushing and pulling off of him, despite remaining stone cold to zeir admission. So, of course, they continued with slight for fever:

“Yeah, okay, you held us all prisoner, enslaved via hypnosis your entire dorm, and nearly killed multiple students. Twice.” Mac cringed at their own blunt statement, “… But why would you go as far as you did, if you didn’t care! What your parents, and more specifically your culture, put you through wasn’t fair—but you obviously still love and cherish them!”

At this, he seemed to get even more guarded. It felt patronizing to be hold how he supposedly felt or why he should feel a specific way. They hadn’t been there. They hadn’t grown up as a Viper in the Desert, constantly reminded by Kalim’s Mirage of wealth what he could never have. They didn’t know the FIRST thing about the Scalding Sands—!

“… How do you know anything about my parents? Did Kalim--?!” He choked out infuriated at the mere implication.

“Relax Viper! It’s all in the Secret of The Ooze™”

“What?”

“Never mind…”

The usual absurdity of MC’s references (much to xeir chagrin that no one seemed to understand them) Jamil allowed himself a shadow of a smirk. Right about now they’d drop what they were saying and instead empathize with him over terrible bosses. They’d both fall back into a familiar pattern of quiet understanding while making playful small talk; maybe Xe’d make a remark over how “hellish” the desert temperature is and moan about being “a poor Northern forced into the sun” before dragging them both off to grab an abominably sweet drink that Kalim would still put sugar in. Xe had always been could at mediating with the other students at NCR.

However, they didn’t drop it. They continued to push him… especially when they realized that he expected the conversation to have ended and started to relax. Xey pushed and pushed and pushed. Finally, they had circled back to him rebelling from his status.

“What? You think I’d be Happier staying a lowly servant?! I’d rather cut my own tongue out than remain bending to Kalim’s will for the rest of my days.” He huffed, still not stopping his assault on the pile of laundry in front of him.

A frustrated sigh left Mac as Xey tried to get their point across, “THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M SAYING!… Obviously, you don’t love being forced into child labor or having to pretend to be something you’re not, but that doesn’t mean you’re totally being honest with yourself either. Rebelling adolescents often do a complete 180 of who they once presented as in an extreme action to feel validated.”

Jamil scoffed in indignation at the impromptu therapy session he’d been forced into.

“Just because you were forced to lie sometimes as ‘Servant Jamil’ doesn’t mean those memories or feelings weren’t authentic!”

“My Childhood, my Pride, my ENTIRE LIFE was stolen from me before I could even open my eyes, Mac! Who could cherish that sort of future?”

“I’m not disputing that! I’m not trying, in any way, to imply that what you went through didn’t fucking suck. But just because you’ve started saying the quiet part out loud doesn’t mean you’re being totally honest either. Switching one mask for another just means nothing has changed but your ability to bitch about-it to the kid you literally Grew Up With, Jamil.” A tired resignation was growing in their eyes as they headed to the end of xeir rant.

It was clear MC was starting to speak in circles and xey weren’t going to be able to get through to them. A heavy weight sunk deep in their chest, slowly sliding to xeir stomach the more he misunderstood the magic-less student. I saw him drown in the depths of his own helplessness and self-pity, but even after he’s been pulled out it’s like he can’t help but dive back in for a swim. It was a suffocating thought while Mac watched as Jamil once again went stone-faced… Like what he was about to say would be his final shield before walking away. It’s a shame that the Ramshackle Resident had become too used to throwing bombs over walls and blowing verbal shields to smithereens after months of being stuck in Twisted Wonderland.

“I’m not sugarcoating or bowing down to anyone anymore. I won’t bite my tongue. I won’t put on a Happy Face to Kalim’s idiotic, half-thought out ideas again. I’m slowly gaining my freedom, something you clearly don’t understand. Just because you’re as blind as he is doesn’t mean anything! What more could you want from me?!” He hissed his final insult before finally stepping away from his station. Not leaving the room, he aggressively got himself a cup of water from one of the sink and gulped the unfiltered water down.

“Just because you’re not hiding your bitter, knee-jerk reaction from an unfair world doesn’t mean you aren’t still hiding away and lying about your more vulnerable emotions.” Mac whispered in an emotionless tone. “Cutting a part of your past off and pretending it was never there is doing yourself a disservice and lying to those that still care about you… And there sure-as-shit isn’t much that I hate more than a Fucking Liar.”

. . . . . .

The lacy doilies sat in a sudsy basin, left forgotten as the two students stood a mere paces from each other—both maintaining an uncomfortably intense eye contact. The sloshing thump of the washers and stirring hum of driers harmonizing were the only song to accompany the two’s stare down. A short hiccup as Mac took a drawn out breath was the only reaction between the two of them. The combined heat of Scarabia’s sun (barely past 10am) and the humidity of continued use of machinery didn’t help the suffocating air in the wide laundry room. Not to mention the loud, stifling silence to boot.

MC usually held back such honest commentary (not that they weren’t blunt) unless Xe deemed it necessary: think high stakes and a sense of urgent drama. But something about Jamil and Kalim’s situation reminded them of himself. The two’s intertwined dance of class, history, loyalty and betrayal, friendship and loss, and such overwhelming guilt reminded the dimension hoping stranger of home. Whatever that meant.

But this was no time to get lost in their own problems and Trauma’s. They’d went too far (again) and that means xey should be the bigger person (again) and deescalate the situation before he hated them (AGAIN). Which means, MC would be the one to break the silence and run away again.

“Ya’ know what? Grim’s probably burned the school down already. Don’t worry about,” Ze gestured blindly to the numerous stations they’d started, “this mess. I’ll rope my little Rat Gremlin and the Freshies into finishing this up. Hell, I could probably convince Rugs to pitch in for lunch or something. Bully the Music Club with helping in exchange of random sheet music I still remember from home.”

Their rambles became more spastic as they noticed Mr. Sugar, Spice and Not-So-Nice break out of his own trance and try to reply. “Seriously! Just enjoy the break… Not that it’s my place or responsibility to be butting in anyway. I will be back in, like, 10 minutes and from here-on-out minding my own damn business. Sorry. Whatever. See you sometime after Sunday, I guess?” Their entire monoluge Mac was slowly backing out of the room before turning around in xeir spot and just short of sprinting their way out of the dorm. A few passerby Scarabia students stopped to eavesdrop on xeir muttering… watch them leave.

Without getting a word in Jamil stood unmoving, watching the Ramshackle Perfect leave swifter than the desert wind shifting the dunes. Almost on auto-pilot, he simply left to go back to his room and do as he was told; enjoy his break. His day off. The day he could do what he liked and didn’t necessarily have to prioritize work. A day he spent working to help and assist the pitiful, magic-less loser that was dropped-kicked into another reality and forced to play nice with a University filled with overpowered and hormonal teenagers while having no way home… And in return was insulted, psychoanalyzed, and thrown aside before he could get a word in edgewise.

“Son of a STREET RAT!!!!!” It was clear he’d need a few hours to calm down before he could even think of trying to enjoy the rest of his Saturday off.

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