#REPLACE WITH AU TAG WHEN NAMED

[shinydmoon]

(To kick my butt into gear heres the first half of a Snippet Set in My current unamed KH Au)

Blood beats (p1)

Everything is stinging, the dry air burns in Wounds I don’t remember. 

Dodge, swipe.

Swipe, Swipe, Kick.

I'm fighting foes, I've been fighting them for a while now. They… They took-

Guard, Shove.

Faint and Swipe.

They took some..Thing. They took away A Precious and others. I need to get them back.

Hiss, bite.

Claw, Bite BITE.

There's lots of Foes, I think I've downed a handful. Not enough, it's not enough. I'm still surrounded.

Claw, Claw.

Hiss, Swipe.

I’m.. Tired. Drained. I think… I place a hand to my side. Even under both my Dark and clothe coats The once warm life blood seeps.

Fight, FIGHT.

I…I need… everything is…

HELP, HELP

I’m scared

The wind is picking up. No, there's… in a blur somethings tackles the Enemies in front of me. I hear Claws ripping into them.

Ally?

Do..I have? Yes I can’t remember but I know I have Allies. Are they here? I can’t see and my sight is getting darker.

Sleep, Sleep

Noo.. Yes Drop.

------

next

Info

[sylphrene]

a couple thousand years can do a lot to you

[ddanmeissu]

i need someone i can yell at about my very niche tma au ;w;

(see me playing fast and loose between tma lore and mdzs canon under the cut wheeee~)

this is part headcanon, part drabble, all-around mess. just dont think too hard about it please

the classification of each entity isn’t fully documented yet, smirke’s 14 doesn’t exist, but each major clan has a specific fear that called their founders. there are also some entities haven’t been identified yet so a lot of fears bleed into each other 

they’re still cultivators here. they’re cultivating fear.

golden cores are the physical manifestation of your connection with your god within your body. the more you feed it, the more connected you are to your patron, the more powerful you become.

each clan is a powerhouse to a specific entity but their disciples can be touched by multiple entities (and honestly, i cant make everyone a slaughter avatar) only the sect leader needs to be fully devoted to their fear god

Gusu Lan = Beholding, Qinghe Nie = Slaughter, Yunmeng Jiang = Hunt, Lanling Jin = Stranger, and Qishan Wen = Desolation

wei wuxian was once heavily touched by the hunt. his mother a famous Huntress and rogue cultivator and his father a servant and close friend to the sect of The Everchase

jiang cheng’s Hunt core is slightly weaker but its fine because they are of the same pack. they are partners, brothers in everything but blood, and will hunt down anyone who dares to hurt the other.

jiang yanli isn’t an avatar, not marked by the hunt but touched by the Hive, manifesting more on the love/belonging and family aspect rather than the filth aspect

i have more Thots about the family aspects between hive/hunt and how they are both very possessive on who they call their Persons but expresses it different ways that mirror jyl and jc but that’s for a different post

during their time in the cloud recesses they meet a quiet watcher who wwx immediately zones in on him as his new “prey”.

lan wangji is silent and knowledgeable as is expected from a disciple of the beholding, but there is a certain chill around him that other eye avatars do not have

wwx stalks the poor boy, pounces on him whenever he manages to catch him alone, and is just a general disturbance all-around.

he does not feel the Eyes that sometimes watch him when he is alone.

lan xichen does not need the beholding’s power to see the way his brother looks at the young hunter disciple. he is pleased to feel the cold surrounding the jingshi has lessened. shufu seems perplexed and torn.

wwx’s also has his eye on jin zixuan, the pompous plastic peacock that’s engaged to his shijie. he isn’t actually allowed to hunt him down so he settles on dismembering the lifeless mannequins that he uses as servants.

(playing with the timeline here) they get kicked out when a text is destroyed within the Library Pavilion even though it was just a pornography book (any kind of knowledge is still knowledge) and even though it was lwj who destroyed it (the eye had punished him severely for that).

the desolation!wen are attempting to bring The Scourged Earth into the world. they burn down the cloud recesses “in the name of ‘cleaning up the place’ so that it would be ‘reborn from the firelight.’” ( - directly from the mdzs wiki)

the xuanwu of slaughter is an ancient manifestation of, well, the slaughter and cannot be reasoned with.

(”Lan Zhan, can you See anything?” “No. My connection with The Beholding has been greatly severed.” “Oh. well.. Uh, it’s kinda foggy in here huh? Here have my outer robe, you look kinda cold.” “…Mn.”)

lotus pier burns and jiang cheng loses his core. wwx asks flesh!wen qing for help because only an avatar of the flesh (the boneturner, though that isn’t its name yet) is able to carve open another avatar long enough to take something out and place it somewhere else.

jiang cheng immediately becomes a fully-fledged avatar using wwx’s hunt-influenced core. it manifests as strong bloodlust against the wens, fear of being seen as weak prey by the other clans, (and later, hunting down wwx and other end-aligned cultivators.)

wwx gets thrown in the burial mounds. he is dead for three whole months. and then he wakes up.

his hunter core is gone but that’s fine. he is alive not because he wants to but because he has to. when he is awake, he calls upon the dead to exact his revenge. the wens are defeated and everyone is in frightened awe of the new being that he has unwillingly become. when he is asleep, black tendrils of death plague his dreams. He relives the horrible memories of his own and others’ deaths. sometimes he can feel someone watching him but cannot see them in return.

wei wuxian is alive but he is not part of jiang cheng’s pack anymore. he does not follow them out on hunts anymore, doesn’t even bother to stay within the residences. he isn’t part of their pack anymore, abandoned their patron for something else more powerful, and for what? he feels resentment brewing inside him. resentment and fear.

wwx knew not to trust the polished and waxed faces of the jins. all the wen remnants are non-avatars, barely touched by anything other than the fear the jins had instilled by themselves. they do not deserve this cruelty, to be both entertainment and livestock for the rest of the cultivation world. it is true that death comes for everyone, but wwx will not let these people die at the hands of these strangers.

the wens become touched by the End during their stay in the burial mounds. wen ning, with flute music playing in his head, wins an archery game against Death and finally wakes.

 one day a cold mist surrounds yilling when wwx takes a-yuan out on a stroll. He loses him but finds him again clinging to a man in white robes that looks like he wants to disappear. wwx feels himself smile brightly at the sight. (”lan zhan! it’s so nice to see you again! It’s been so cold out today but luckily it’s warmer now!” “Mn.” “You really blend in with the fog with those white robes of yours. it’s okay though because i’m sure i can find you wherever you disappear to!” “Mn.”)

qiongqi path becomes a massacre of plastic mannequins and not!beings. the smell of death and manufactured flesh fill the air like an offering to his unwanted patron, and black tendrils surround wwx and his assailants. It blinds him and he can’t see it, can’t control it, can’t stop it as jin zixuan is pierced through his chest and falls to the ground, dead.

the clans are outraged. they speak in fear of him, they hear of his power over life and death and that he, like the wen fugitives by his side, is trying to bring about his patron into the world. they call for an attack, a bloodbath to take him down once and for all.

and a bloodbath it is. the entire cultivation world against a one-man army. fear rings high in the air and all the Entities are well fed in the aftermath, the most satisfied: Slaughter and (paradoxical to their intent) The End.

later, much later, when the siege is over and nothing is left of his anchor other than a small child marked by death, lwj accepts the punishment lashes and then goes into cold seclusion. the jingshi is completely covered by clouds of fog. no one can See him, the elders only get a debilitating headache when they try to pry too hard. not even lxc, who has become the Eye’s most devoted avatar, can know his brother’s whereabouts. only lan yuan seems to able to navigate through the dense gloom.

the world moves on

jin guangyao’s wide smiles are not conspicuous within the plastic faces and painted lips within lanling jin. If his limbs are too long or if his smile a bit distorted or if he disappears through a bright yellow door and doesnt come back then no one makes mention of it.

No one also notices the webs above them hidden in the high ceilings of lanling jin nor the tiny spiders that skitter around the gossiping servants, spinning and weaving threads of thick silk around them.

it takes years for his brother to come out from the fog and lxc nearly weeps at the knowledge that The Lonely had not forsaken another member of his family. still, lwj has changed. there is a certain chill around him now that persists wherever he goes. though he has always been silent since childhood, his silence now is cold and unfeeling, eyes faraway as if not seeing those around him and only floating through the days. He is not completely alone though and that is enough to alleviate some of xichen’s worries. 

time abates some wounds but certainly not all. there is still an empty cold pit in lwj’s chest but it does not bleed as freely as it did 10 years before. Before, he would have readily disappeared into the fog when the elders comes to look for him, now he chooses to disappear from the cloud recesses and absconds into night hunts. he goes wherever the chaos is, seeking (but not willing to hope) that he might find something that can stir the deadness in his heart.

tbc ?

[callmephighter]

in that au thing I was talking about earlier even though I don't think he's that important to what's happening I really want to write rocket doing something at least in one chapter. definitely not bc he's my favorite guy and I project my specific emotional issues on him. .. I mean it still would make sense for him to show up as pov he's kind of the center of something that happens that i can't say yet

I think I'm going insane hi I just woke up it's 8:28 am

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (1) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board | ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: your parents are convinced that you will marry the king by the end of the social season. and so, too, it seems does coriolanus snow.  

word count: 2,764 

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later 

chapter warnings?: no use of y/n, you cannot stand coryo, not proofread

Coriolanus Snow’s rise to the throne was something you never expected to come to fruition. When you were younger, you remembered your peers talking about how Snow wanted to one day rule Panem. At the time, you thought it was just another wild dream of a child. Something a child would say when an adult asks what they wish to be when they grow up. “A pirate!” one might exclaim. Or, perhaps, “A painter!” The sort of thing that a sensible parent would shrug off and not dedicate anymore thought to. The Snow family, as it turned out, was not particularly sensible. 

When the Former King Ravinstill died without warning, the throne was left vacant. Everyone knew that the old man had little life left in him. Yet, despite his age, he had a tendency to power through. No one thought he would have lived as long as he did, but he had. So, the Electors had not yet begun considering his replacement. No one had been prepared enough to seek candidacy. No one, except Coriolanus Snow. A few other eligible persons put forth their names, but no one garnered support quite like the young man. From a prominent family, the son of a general, had served briefly himself, intelligent, and had the financial backing of the Plinth family? There was no version of history where Snow could lose. 

Within weeks of Ravinstill’s death, Snow was crowned King. 

You did not care for politics, so you knew little of his reign. But your father seemed pleased, talking often and loudly about how the young Snow would restore Panem to its former glory. You weren’t so sure of that. Though you did not interact with him often in your younger years, you remembered Snow as someone who was self-serving. Who would pretend to care if only it could further his own interests. He very well might let all of Panem burn if it meant he could gain from it. But your father was quite pleased with Snow as King and, when word began to spread that Snow would be seeking a bride this next social season, your father pushed hard for you to woo the King. 

“If you wish to serve your family well, my little dove, you will convince the King to marry you,” your father told you the moment he heard the news. 

You all but scoffed. “I hardly think I am the sort of woman he wishes to marry. A man like him would want someone meek, someone who would not challenge his authority. We hardly ever agreed on the schoolyard, and for that reason, he never considered me a friend. How could he ever see me as a wife?”

Your father’s eyes narrowed at you. “It is your responsibility, then, to make yourself small so that he may choose you.”

“I would rather die than sacrifice my ideals, Papa,” you said. “Why can I not vie for any other’s attention? I know Lord Plinth quite well. I’ve always enjoyed his company. It would be easy to win his heart and have our family set for life. Certainly easier than winning over the King.”

He sneered, “The only thing the Plinth family is good for is their money. I want to be respected. We would be little more than social pariahs if you wed the Plinth boy.”

“I shall not marry the King—”

Your mother stepped in before you could say something you might come to regret. She placed a hand on your arm, directing your attention to her. “Never mind that now. There is still time before the season begins for minds to be changed.”

“I shall not change my mind, Mama.”

She looked over at your father, who was the perfect picture of irate. She looked back to you. “Perhaps, but perhaps not. Let us go clear our minds, yes? We should go order new gowns at the modiste before everyone else floods her with demands.”

“You cannot distract me with fashion.”

“But you would do well to pretend that I have.”

Your efforts to convince your parents that you would not, under any circumstance whatsoever, marry Coriolanus Snow did not do anything for you. Despite your best efforts, you now stood in the palace for the King’s Ball, wearing the most beautiful powder blue gown fresh from the modiste, trying and failing to hide from your mother, so that you might delay her forcing you onto Snow. For now, though, she had been distracted by a conversation with Lady Dovecote about…whatever mothers talked about. Surely some scheme that would end with either you or Clemensia as Snow’s betrothed. You rolled your eyes at the thought. 

A familiar voice said your name. When you turned, you were greeted by the sight of Sejanus Plinth, holding two glasses of lemonade. He handed one to you, remarking, “I never knew you to be one to hide from the crowd.”

“I shall hide from the crowd when my mama is convinced I shall become Queen by the end of the season.”

“Ah.” Sejanus took a drink and laughed. “Strange, isn’t it? Seeing everyone we grew up with vying for Coryo’s attention.”

Coryo? Oh, yes. That was the nickname those close to Snow would call him. You had forgotten that the two were friends. Hmm, perhaps you could use that information the next time your parents try to force a connection with Snow. Something about how getting close to his friend might make him interested in you. “That it is. It seems as though everyone has lost their minds just for a glimpse of the crown.”

Sejanus laughed again. Then he looked at you a little more seriously, and said, “If I am honest, I am surprised you are not among those fighting for Coryo’s attention.”

Your brows pinched together. “You think I am interested in climbing the social ladder? Lord Plinth, you should know me well enough that I care more for a love match than gaining a title.”

“No, no. That is not what I meant. I remember in school that you and Coryo always had a sort of connection. Truthfully, I thought one of you might have acted on it sooner when you entered society.”

“The only connection we had was that of hatred. We despised each other.”

Sejanus shook his head, his curls bouncing. “I do not think that was true for Coryo. He liked that you challenged him. He has never been the sort of person who liked people who switch their position when the tide seems to turn. He likes people who are firm in their convictions.”

You laughed. “He’s told you this?”

“Not in so many words. But you have to wonder why he always sought you out.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps he is crueler than we all think.”

Sejanus moved to protest, but another beat him to it. “Or perhaps you judge without truly knowing.”

You froze. Oh, how you had hoped that you could have avoided him tonight! Damn Sejanus and his friendship with Snow. So much for him being your safe haven during these balls. You might as well have lit a beacon leading straight to you. Alas, you did not want Snow to see the hatred you had brewing for him. Even if you did not like the man, you would be a social pariah if you made such feelings known to him. So, you painted on a smile as you turned to look at Snow. “Or perhaps I made an educated guess supported by the evidence of past interactions.”

Snow snorted, turning his gaze to Sejanus. “Always so quick with a response, she is.”

Sejanus glanced at you, a knowing look in his eyes. If you were a mindreader, you could imagine him gloating in his mind about how he was right, that this was a sign that Snow cared for you in some way. But you only knew it to be yet another indicator that you and Snow could never, ever, get along. “Her wit has never dulled.”

“Should we see, then, if her dance skills are still equally sharp?”

Sejanus looked at you again, a brilliant smile on his face. Oh, how you wished to wipe that look off. This was not proof of anything. This did not prove his point. “I could not think of anything better.”

Damn you, Sejanus Plinth. Damn you. 

Snow held his arm out for you to take. You stared at it, not moving. “In order to dance with a lady, you must ask her. I do not recall you asking me anything.”

Snow glanced just beyond you. When you turned your head to follow his gaze, you saw your mother and Lady Dovecote watching the interaction carefully. As you looked back at Snow, he said, “Your mother would be disappointed if you did not dance with me.”

“It is amazing you became King when you are so lacking in manners.” But you knew your mother—the entirety of the ton, perhaps—would consider you insane to turn the King down so openly. So you took his arm and let him lead you onto the dance floor. 

He snorted. “You are the only person who speaks so freely to me.”

“Ah, so this is one last dance before my execution? How kind. Perhaps I was wrong about your cruelty.”

“There is much you are wrong about,” Snow said. You had reached the dance floor. The crowd parted around you, allowing you and Snow to take the middle of the floor. You faced him, allowing his hand to fall to you waist. You placed one hand on his shoulder, and let him take the other in his free hand. “It would be far too much of a shame to take your life.”

“Such a kind and gentle king.”

“Only for those who deserve it.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mother miming for you to smile. You fought the urge to sneer instead. Even if you would rather do anything else than be courted by Coriolanus Snow, acting out would not do you any favors. If you had any hope in finding a love match, you had to at least be cordial to him. So you smiled as prettily as you could. But you couldn’t help yourself from saying, “Then perhaps you should go see a physician. You seem to have lost your mind.”

To your surprise, Snow laughed. The sound almost scared you. When was the last time you heard Snow laugh? An actual laugh, at that. None of his snorts of derision or half-hearted chuckles when he was trying to charm someone. Had you ever heard him laugh before? You tried to wrack your brain, but you could not recall anything. In school, he had always been so serious—focused more on using the tools available to him to climb the social ladder rather than being a kid like everyone else. Though, you supposed, Snow was a far cry from everyone else. 

The music began to play, and Snow spun you around the dance floor. As you turned, you locked eyes with Sejanus. He wore a large grin on his face, seemingly sure that you and Snow were making nice. Why else would he have laughed at something you said? You wished you could yell out to Sejanus, tell him that he was dead wrong. 

“What is it that people say? Something about love driving people mad?”

This time, you did roll your eyes. “Oh, come off it. You and I both know perfectly well that you do not care for me. I hardly understand why you’re even entertaining this nonsense, if for no other reason than to torture me.”

Snow considered you. After a long moment of silence, he said, “I seek a bride who will produce me an heir. There are few women here who meet my standards. A woman of good breeding, from a respectable family, and intelligent enough to keep up with me. Someone who will be a good Queen and a good mother.”

“Someone that you can control.” You scoff. “You truly must see a physician, Your Majesty, if you think that I will fall in line with whatever you ask of me.”

His lips curled into a grin. Your stomach churned. “Not yet.”

The next morning, your mother promptly reported that you had danced with Coriolanus Snow not once, not twice, but three times to your father. To say he had been pleased was something of an understatement. He was certain that Snow would soon be reaching out to discuss a proposal. It did not matter how much you tried to downplay the situation—explain that he was only dancing with you for some other reason than him wishing to marry you. Your parents minds were made up. By the end of the season, you were to be Queen of Panem. 

“It’s just the nerves,” your mother dismissed as you sat in the drawing room, waiting for any suitor to call on you. “You will be more than confident once you are wed.”

You ground your teeth together. “I do not wish to marry Coriolanus Snow. I would marry anyone else. I would let you or Papa pick anyone else in the ton and I would not let out a single complaint. I cannot marry that man.”

Something just beyond you caught your mother’s attention. Your father, you supposed. “You should not say such things—” she began to say. Of course. Of course she would say that. 

“Why not? It is true. I would be miserable with him. I would rather die than be his bride, bear his children. Frankly, forcing me to marry him may as well be a death sentence.”

“Dear, you do not truly mean that—”

“And you must not know me at all if you think I am not being completely, and utterly, truthful right now. Coriolanus Snow is the last man I would ever wish to marry.”

Your mother leaned in close to you, hissing, “Stop talking right now, young lady.”

A frown settled on your face. Why was she so bothered about you speaking so freely? There was no one in the room but you, her, and a maid. Perhaps she was concerned about the maid spreading gossip with other maids and that slowly enveloping the ton. It wasn’t a non-possibility, to be sure. But why was she acting so…scandalized by your words? 

Unless…

You turned your head toward the entrance of the room. There should Coriolanus Snow, dressed in a dark red suit, holding a bouquet of white roses. Your mouth went dry. Oh, why does he keep showing up when you least expect it? “The butler typically announces when a guest has arrived,” you said. 

You couldn’t read his face. A part of you wondered if you had offended him. You didn’t particularly care about offending him, but you also knew that such an act could have dire consequences on you marrying anyone else. “He was going to, but I wanted my arrival to be a surprise.” He took a step closer to you, holding out the roses. “I just had these freshly picked from my garden.”

A part of you wanted to smack the roses out of his hands, but you had already embarrassed your mother enough in front of Snow. You took the roses, yet couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “I cannot believe a man like you could grow something so beautiful.”

Your mother let out a loud—obviously fake—laugh. “Oh, isn’t she just funny? She always says the silliest things.”

Snow chuckled. He smiled at your mother—the sort of smile that your stomach twist into knots. Like he knew something no one else did, and he was reveling in that. “It is one of her more…charming traits.” He turned his attention back to you. “As lovely as this is, I came to ask if you would like to promenade with me in the square.”

Oh, Snow. Why was he so good at backing you into corners? You took a breath and passed the bouquet to the maid so she could put them in a vase. “That would be nothing short of a delight.”

He held out his arm for you to take. You slipped your hand around his bicep, your nails digging in. If he felt any pain, he didn’t show it. Instead, he leaned down so that you could only hear him whisper, “It seems like you fall in line much easier than you would like to believe.”

[shuadotcom]

Stay ‘Till Sunrise | HJS + KMG (M)

☀ Summary: After years of pining and lusting over your best friends, your desperation finally gets the better of you and you decide enough is enough. Tonight is the night you’ll risk ruining the friendship to be with them in every way you can.

☀ Pairing: Joshua Hong x Fem!Reader x Kim Mingyu

☀ Genres & AUs: Smut, fluff, friends to lovers au, non!idol au, polyam au, porn with the barest of plots

☀ Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

☀ Warnings: Profanity (especially the f bomb), alcohol, oral (f. receiving), creampie, pussy slapping (like 3 times?), squirting, spanking, hair pulling, choking, double penetration, unprotected sex, anal (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), dirty talk, kinda dom!shua, switch!gyu, subby!reader, praise and pet names (babygirl, pretty girl, darling)

☀ Words: 9.1k

☀ Note: This was a dream I had that I needed to put together in fic form and write so it will leave my head!! It’s also inspired by Ruin The Friendship by Demi Lovato! Big thank you to @sun-kore​ for being my amazing, wonderful beta! ❤️ And thank you sosososo much @playmetheclassics​ \ @classicscreations​ for this beautiful banner that I’m still obsessed with!! 😍

Tagging the lovely @the-boy-meets-evil​ because she asked 💛

Okay, you can finally admit it: you want to fuck your best friends.

Well, you want to do more than that. You want Joshua and Mingyu to take you out on dates and call you pet names no matter how corny and old-school they are. You want Mingyu to make you romantic dinners to celebrate milestones together and you want Joshua to make you a beaded bracelet every birthday filled with heart shapes and pastel colors.

You want the three of you to spend lazy mornings laying in bed, sharing body warmth and cuddling until you get hungry or someone has to pee. You want to spend holidays and anniversaries with them. You want to hold Joshua’s perfect hands and place kisses on Mingyu's perfect nose and be the most sickeningly cute, perfect polycule with them.

Every time you see a couple doing cutesy, cheesy couple things your mind always wanders to Joshua and Mingyu, imagining the three of you doing it too and your heart feels so warm at the thought.

Of course, when all of your soft thoughts of light kisses and hand-holding drift away they’re replaced with some not-so-soft thoughts.

Thoughts of Joshua using his big hands to choke you while he fucks you into your mattress and images of Mingyu’s strong arms gripping your legs hard as he makes you cum on his face over and over again. Your laundry list of dirty things you want to do with the two of them is long and extensive but then again how could it not be when they look the way they do?

You’ve known them for five years thanks to your roommate Seungcheol who’s known them for longer. Somewhere after the year three mark of knowing them, feelings for the two men morphed from friendly love for your sweet friends who do nice things for you all of the time to the realization that all of these sweet things have stacked up in your heart to accumulate to the massive, embarrassing,  crush you have on them now.

You love your whole group of friends of course, but they’ve always been the sweetest and easiest to get along with. You can always laugh at the same things as them, eat the same foods, and open up to them more than any of your other friends. Joshua and Mingyu make you feel safe and loved and cared for so of course your heart was bound to belong to them both.

They also happen to be some of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen in your life.

Your eyes wander to Mingyu at this thought at his spot in the kitchen. He’s leaning back against the counter as he waits for the popcorn in the microwave. His arms are crossed as he scrolls on his phone and his long, dark hair hangs in his face. The slightly curly locks look soft and you know they are, seeing as you use every opportunity to playfully run your fingers through them.

He reaches up then, carding his fingers through the strands and you eye the wonderful way his biceps flex when he does, the sleeves of his t-shirt very noticeably hugging his arm. The arms that are so deliciously toned and hard that let you know just how strong Mingyu is and how easily he could probably toss you around and -

The ding of the microwave jolts you out of your long-running thirst thoughts about your friend. Joshua laughs from next to you, playfully poking your side.

“Did the microwave scare you?”

“I was zoning out!”

“Clearly. What were you even thinking about that hard?”

About one of my best friends absolutely wrecking my body in the most sinful of ways.

“Uh, my uh glass is empty. I was contemplating getting up for another drink.” You nod towards your empty glass on the coffee table, your skin burning up at getting caught fantasizing. It’s not a complete lie - before you were consumed with your constant Minshua fantasies, you had in fact been thinking about getting up for another drink.

But then Mingyu got up to make popcorn and you watched him walk away in his gray sweatpants at the same time that Joshua shifted on the couch and his thigh grazed yours and yeah. That’s how you ended up in such a daze.

“Oh, I’ll make you another.”

“No! You don’t have to!” You reach out to grab the glass before he can take it, but he simply bats your hand away and snatches it at the same time he gets up from the couch.

“Nope, I’m doing it.” He sends you a smile that has your heart doing cartwheels.

God, he’s so fucking sweet. You want to suck him off so badly.

“Me too?!” Mingyu points to his half-empty cup on the coffee table. He’s returned to his spot on the couch next to you, the bowl of popcorn balancing in one hand.

“What, are your legs broken? Guess you should’ve made it when you were up.”

“You’re mean!” Mingyu accuses, a pout forming on his face.

Joshua just chuckles at him, blowing him a kiss in response as he reaches the kitchen.

You’re so in love with them it’s disgusting.

He keeps a playful smile on his face as he makes your drink and it quickly morphs into determination as he eyes the different alcohols. You haven’t looked at him straight on since he and Mingyu arrived earlier in the evening for your bi-weekly movie night. You’re still both thanking and cursing the rest of your friend group for having plans and leaving you with your two biggest weaknesses tonight.

Joshua leans over the sink to rinse out your glass and the button-down he’s wearing - that’s already undone way too far in your opinion - exposes more of his smooth chest and it takes everything in you not to gape so openly. He’s nowhere as big as Mingyu, but you know for certain they’ve gone to the gym many times together and you know Joshua’s also built in a way that has you blushing and kicking your feet like a mad woman. He’s constantly wearing shirts that show off all of the honeyed skin of his neck, just begging to be covered in marks. And oh how badly do you want those marks to come from your lips and teeth.

“Can I put something else on?” Mingyu directs the question at both of you but is reaching over you already to grab the remote.

His body is so warm and he smells so good and you’re back to focusing on him again. The urge to reach out and cup his face just to gaze at him up close is strong, but you keep yourself composed.

“If you put on Spiderman one more time, I’m going to bite you,” you warn him, watching him open the search bar on the streaming menu.

“Come on! Every time we have movie night you and Shua try to put on too many scary movies!”

“The last one wasn’t even scary, it was just a thriller.” You roll your eyes at the man. “Don’t be a baby.” Your friends, especially you and Joshua, always tease the younger man about how whiny he gets when anyone puts anything remotely scary around him. Unfortunately for him, both you and Joshua love them and it’s two versus one tonight.

“It was a horror thriller! I saw the categories when it was over!” Mingyu continues leaning over you even after the remote is in his hand, so when he tilts his head back to look at you upside down, he’s so incredibly close enough to see every detail on his perfect face.

You’re the target of his pout this time, his plush lips looking oh-so inviting. Delusion kicks in at that moment and you swear you see Mingyu’s eye drift to your mouth too, neither of you moving away from one other.

Is he moving towards you right now? Kissing upside down seems hard and logistically, not that simple, but you’d never dream of rejecting Mingyu in this universe or any other.

“Move your big head!” Joshua interrupts whatever this was when he returns, waving your drink in front of your face. “Alright Y/n, I demand that you give me feedback on my bartending skills immediately.”

Mingyu jolts up, reaching quickly for a handful of popcorn and shoving it into his mouth. He gives Joshua a look that you can’t decipher. It’s quick and you nearly miss it, but it definitely looks like something. Ignoring it, you take your glass from Joshua, and he watches as you sip your drink, waiting for your verdict.

“It’s perfect,” you finally say and he breaks into a brilliant smile.

“I know.” He says rather smugly. “I always know what you like.” Joshua sends you a wink and you guess it’s that coupled with his words that conjure up a version of Joshua whispering that into your ear as he fucks you hard, knowing exactly how you like it and how to touch you.

To drown out the thirst and desperation in your head you start to chug the drink, aware of both men watching you gulp it down in record time.

“Be careful there, Y/n. I know it’s good but don’t get ahead of yourself.” Joshua’s hand finds your knee which doesn’t help you at all with the state that you’re in.

Clumsy hands reach out for the remote, announcing to them that you’ll be finding something to put on which steers the conversation into another debate of what to watch. You’re thankful for it because quite frankly, you need all the distractions you can get.

It’s nearly one in the morning when you suggest to them that they stay the night. None of you are drunk per se, but they are buzzed so driving home is off the table. Joshua suggests that they’ll take a rideshare since they don’t live far from each other, but you shoot that down.

“That’s stupid, just stay the night. We can keep hanging out.” You punctuate your words with your best pout to lay it on thick. To be honest, you’ve been debating all night if you want to make any moves to suggest you want to do more with them than watch movies but you haven’t decided yet and want a little more time. Plus you just don’t want to stop being around them.

“Fine, we'll stay.” Joshua decides for both of them. It hadn’t taken long at all for him to give in.

“Good!”

With that settled, you all take a movie intermission for bathroom breaks and showers before resuming. Since you’re in for the night you want to be more comfortable - and you need a second to try and get your mind sorted.

This wouldn’t be the first time that any of your guy friends stayed at your apartment for various reasons, so you’re able to fish out some extra sweats and shirts for them that have been left behind for various reasons.

Once you’re in your room with your door shut tight you pull off your clothes and get ready to shower. Now more than ever you’re thankful that when you and Seungcheol played rock, paper scissors to see who’d get the master bedroom, you won.

Speaking of your roommate, you think about him and send a text message as the water for your shower warms up. He went home for his brother’s birthday which gave you the blessing and the curse of being alone with the two men who are showering only a few feet away from you.

[Y/n] Cheol, are you up?

[Choi Seungcheollie] Yeah I’m up. The party is still raging on and my brother is absolutely wasted. He’s this close to getting us kicked out of this club 🙄

[Choi Seungcheollie] Why are you still up? Did Mingyu and Joshua leave already?

[Y/n] No, they're sleeping over. We’re not drunk off our asses but they def can’t be driving

[Choi Seungcheollie] They’re sleeping over huh? 🤔

[Choi Seungcheollie] Is tonight the night you’ll finally become the meat in the Mingyu and Joshua sandwich of your dreams?????

[Y/n] Stopppppppp I’m scared 😩 If I confess and they don’t feel the same our friendship is fucked you know this

[Choi Seungcheollie] You’re so dramatic. They worship the ground you walk on already, remember? Ask anyone.

[Choi Seungcheollie] Text Jeonghan I’m sure he’ll tell you the same

You most certainly will not be texting Jeonghan. You may also be close to him, but he still won’t hesitate to blackmail you to confess if he knew your current situation.

[Y/n] I’d rather risk potentially ruining the friendship myself than get that fucking villain involved

[Choi Seungcheollie] Fair point. Then all I’ll say is to just DO IT. It’ll go fine. You’ve been pining over them for literal years and I know these guys. This won’t be the end of your friendship.

[Choi Seungcheollie] Maybe just start with something small and see how they react.

You roll Seungcheol’s words around in your head. The desire weighing heavy in your stomach for them is the most it’s been in a long time. The fear of rejection and driving a wedge in between the three of you has kept your mouth shut all this time, but you’re really going through it tonight with the way you’re quite literally craving them. If you can come up with something small then it could be easier for you to read them.

[Y/n] Fine, I'll figure something out. If I get my heart broken expect a hysterical voice memo later!!

[Choi Seungcheollie] Good luck, Y/n! I’ll be here if you need me ❤️

After taking a quick shower, you finally decide the best course of action is your choice of pajamas. Instead of the cute cow set that you bought recently you decide on a black cotton night shirt that stops somewhere under your asscheeks with the matching panties that can easily be seen when you bend over - even just a little bit. Seungcheol said something subtle and you feel as though seducing them in your underwear is the most blatant yet wordless way of doing so.

Giving yourself a quick once over, you decide that forgoing a bralette is the most logical choice for your desired endgame, and make your way back out into the living room. Both men are on the couch looking at something on Mingyu’s phone when you enter and you watch as Joshua does a double take when looking up at you. He tries to subtly get Mingyu to notice you, but the latter isn’t too good with that, so Mingyu’s eyes on you are much more obvious.

“You guys showered already?” Your question is innocent, as is the way you ease into your seat between them. But, you do go out of your way to lift your night shirt so you don’t sit on it, exposing your panties as you sit.

“Yeah. We were just trying to decide if we wanted to order food.” Joshua’s words sound a little distant and a glance out of the corner of your eye tells you why. His gaze keeps darting between the tv and the expanse of your thighs that are exposed. The nightshirt is already short, but it’s risen nearly to the tops of your thighs when sitting. On your other side, Mingyu’s phone is still in front of his face but he’s doing a terrible job at pretending he isn’t looking at you.

Putting on a short shirt was the best plan of action you could conjure up on the fly, but it seems to be working.

“Up to you guys. I’ve got more snacks if you don’t wanna wait.” Both men make noises of acknowledgment but don’t make another move other than Joshua resuming to flip through Netflix.

Not a single part of you is paying attention to what Joshua puts on tv. It’s an anime you’ve seen but the men on either side of you are all you focus on. You’re no femme fatale in the slightest and your flirting could use some serious work, but you’d like to think their change in demeanor is a good thing. You continue shifting on the couch so that different parts of you graze against the two of them and each man reacts, albeit differently.

Mingyu lets out a lot of stifled sounds of surprise while Joshua clears his throat each time an arm or leg touches him but neither of them moves away or tries to create distance which keeps your small bout of confidence from fizzling out.

Eventually, your urge to make a bolder move is strong so you decide to be a little more blatant.

“I’m gonna grab a snack, do you guys want anything?”

“Nope.”

“No.” They rush their answers out in unison and you can’t help but smile to yourself.

You pull yourself up from the couch slowly, leaning forward as you do so the back of your shirt rides up and you know for sure your panties are visible. To up the ante, you drop your phone on the floor in front of the couch.

“Oops.” Before you can talk yourself out of it, you hold your breath and bend at the waist to pick it up, ass on full display. Mingyu lets out what sounds like a whimper from behind you, but you’re too nervous to turn around so phone in hand, you beeline for the kitchen, your back still turned to them.

Nerves are starting to outweigh the rush of horniness the night has brought you. What if you throw yourself at them and they completely turn you away? What if you do too much and it makes one or both of them so uncomfortable that it ruins your dynamic? The end result of the idea of confessing to them loops back around as it always does and you’re close to backing out as you always do and retreating to the safety of your room where you can daydream of what-ifs and touch yourself in peace.

“Hey, Y/n,” You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of Mingyu’s voice so close behind you. You hadn’t even heard him approach but you very much feel him. His broad chest is pressed against your back, his body heat rolling off of him in waves.

“H-hey,” Hopefully he doesn’t hear the way your voice trembles.

“You’ve been standing here for a while. Do you need help getting something?”

Truth be told, you have no idea how long exactly you’ve been standing in front of the cabinet. At the moment your brain is having trouble keeping up with much of anything other than how close your best friend is to you.

“Uh, um,” your eyes dart to the open cabinet in front of you, landing on the bag of cookies that are on a top shelf, out of your reach. When you say this to Mingyu, he leans forward, his torso pushing against yours, effectively pinning you against the counter as he reaches over your head. He smells so good and feels so warm and firm, your head is dizzy at all of these sensations hitting you at once.

“Here.” Minygu brings the bag of cookies to your eyesight, the snack right in front of you, but neither of you moves. Both of you seem to be holding your breath, waiting for the other to do something.

“Mingyu, I -” Your sentence ends with a choke as Mingyu jolts his hips forward, the bulge in his sweatpants poking you.

He retracts his hips quickly, almost so quickly that for a second you nearly believe maybe it didn’t happen, but you know what you felt. That’s why you decide in an instant to move your hips back to meet his crotch. Mingyu makes a hissing noise behind you, but again, neither of you moves away.

“Hey, we had a deal!” Joshua’s voice is what finally has you and Mingyu separating, the forgotten bag of cookies falling to the floor.

“Shit, sorry! I couldn’t help it!” Mingyu stamps his foot on the ground. You’d have found the gesture cute if you weren’t so confused.

“A deal?” You pipe up, neither man hearing you.

“I knew when you came into the kitchen you couldn’t be trusted.”

“I really did want to come to get something to drink! I just got distracted because she’s wearing that!”

“Likely story.”

“What are you guys talking about?!” You yell, both of them finally paying attention to you. They exchange a look. “And don’t do that annoying man telekinesis shit. I saw you do it earlier tonight  - tell me the truth!”

“We agreed that neither of us would go after you since we both like you!” Mingyu blurts in a rush, unable to meet your eyes.

“You what?”

“We just didn’t wanna fuck up our friendship with each other and you of course. We care about you and didn’t want to make things messy.”

Blinking at Joshua’s words, the wheels in your head work overdrive to comprehend what they’re saying.

“I’m sorry, you both like me?”

“I know it sounds weird, I got drunk at Chan’s birthday party last year and told Joshua when you were dancing with Soonyoung.”

“And then I told him I liked you too because I was also drunk and we promised neither of us would act on it and just hope our crushes went away.”

Wordlessly, you take in their confessions. You can’t believe you’ve been breaking your own heart this whole time. Ignoring your feelings, stressing over them, willing them gone for nothing. And to think, you wanted to seduce them so badly tonight when all you probably had to do was tell them and they’d take care of you.

“You’re not mad at us, right? I’m sorry if you think we’re creepy or whatever, we can totally leave!” Mingyu looks like a kicked puppy as he anticipates your answer, likely expecting a negative response.

“You guys are not leaving.” You finally say, both men looking surprised. “I’ve been talking myself out of liking you two for the last like two years and you’ve been into me this whole time. There’s no way I’m going to let you just leave after we’ve gotten all this out in the open.”

“I - you like us too? Both of us?” Joshua looks as surprised as you probably do.

“Both of you. A lot.” They share another look.

“So… what do we do?” Joshua starts. “I mean I’m fucking stoked that you just said that, but what do we actually do?”

“I’m open to the three of us, you know, being a thing.”

“Like, you date me, but also Joshua and we all date each other?” You nod at Mingyu’s words, holding your breath at their reaction.

A beat of silence goes by, neither man speaking before Joshua decides.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” You and Mingyu ask in unison.

“Okay, we can all date. It’s a win-win-win. I get to call Y/n my girlfriend finally and Mingyu is lucky enough to say he’s dating a catch like me.”

“Yah, you’re the lucky one! Do you how many people wanna date me? I’m a model for a reason, thank you very much.”

“Posting selfies and outfit of the day TikToks doesn’t make you a model, Gyu.”

“If I get paid to show this face then it’s modeling! Don’t be a hater.” Mingyu clicks his tongue.

“Hey!” Again you interrupt their bickering. “I really, really like both of you so much and I want to do so many dumb boyfriend-girlfriend things with y’all, and we can work out the dynamics of this whole thing tomorrow, but right now I am so insanely horny and I’d really like it if you guys could fuck me.”

Your best friends - now boyfriends? - gape at you and take too long to respond, so to speed things along you close your eyes and start to lift your nightshirt, stopping to expose your bare breasts to them. Both sets of brown eyes in front of you take in your half-naked form.

“Please,” you whine, peeking an eye open. You don’t care who moves first - you just wish one of them would.

Something in Joshua’s expression changes and his usual sweet face turns dark as he crosses the small distance between you two, his hands cupping your face as he smashes your lips together.

Kissing Joshua is heavier than you anticipate. His lips easily and skillfully take over yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth without much resistance on your end. Your body presses forward against his like a magnet and you need to grip his shirt to steady yourself against him. He holds your face with a tenderness that is a stark contrast to the way he’s desperately ravishing your lips.

“Fuck, I’m finally kissing you,” Joshua sighs in between kisses and you hum in agreement.

You get lost in the whirlwind that is finally making out with Joshua, but the feeling of another set of hands on your body snaps you back to reality. Mingyu has silently met the two of you in the middle of the kitchen, efficiently trapping you between both men. His just as soft lips ghost over your neck as his arms, almost trembling, wrap around your waist.

Mingyu has always been one of the softest men you’ve ever known. He’s a big boy with big arms and an even bigger heart. You can feel the nervousness and hesitancy radiating off of him. Prying your fingers from the death grip they have on Joshua’s shirt, you move one hand down to lie on top of Mingyu’s. Immediately your fingers slip between his to grip his hand tightly and let him know how okay with this you are and how safe he is here with all of you together like this.

It must’ve been the reassurance he needs because the next thing you feel is Mingyu’s teeth as they begin nibbling harder at the skin on your neck, clearly intending to leave marks. He pulls your hips back so you meet his erection digging into your lower back.

A whimper escapes you as your brain teeters on the brink of shutting off the more Mingyu leaves you reminders of tonight and the more Joshua kisses every breath out of you.

At some point, Joshua finally comes up for air, both of you panting for dear life. Mingyu spins you around and replaces Joshua’s mouth with his, his hands opting to grip your hips as he melds his lips with yours. Where Joshua’s kiss was dominant and thoughtful, Mingyu’s is soft yet desperate. Between moments to breathe, he slips in little nibbles on your bottom lip and kisses you as if he’ll never get another chance, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

Your fingers dart up to tangle in his midnight hair, tugging on the soft strands by the root.

“Fuck, Y/n…” Your name falls from Mingyu’s mouth in a groan and it’s probably the best thing you’ve heard in your life.

Wanting to hear it once more, you pull again, and he whimpers your name again. You go in for a third time, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, Mingyu swoops down with lips still attached to yours as he grabs hold of your thighs and quickly scoops you up off of the ground, plopping you on the kitchen counter.

“Wanna taste you so bad.” Mingyu pleads between kisses. His words shoot straight to your pussy and you nod your head so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash.

The sound of Joshua’s chuckle draws your attention up and to him. As Mingyu kisses down your body, inching your panties down on the way, Joshua holds your gaze.

He’s a sight directly out of your usual fantasies. A red hue fans out across the expanse of his neck, up to his round cheekbones, and reaches his pouty lips as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. Your eyes desperately follow his hand as it reaches up to push back his already messy hair, then moves back down to grip his obvious erection. He rubs himself a few times through his sweatpants, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Shua…” You mewl, hand feebly reaching for him.

“What is it, pretty girl?”

You falter at the pet name that falls from his lips so easily - and in a tone that you’re not used to from him.

“I - I want you. I - ohhhhh.”

Mingyu’s lips wrap around your clit and suck hard - any semblance of a sentence you had in mind withers away. His fingers dig into your thighs to keep a grip on you as his thick tongue alternates between lapping at your clit and darting in and out of you. The sounds of Mingyu eating you out like a man starved fills the kitchen, making you dizzy.

“Fuck, Gyu!” Mingyu’s tongue is sinful as he laps at you, making a mess of you even more than you already are. “So good….you’re so good.” Your hands find Mingyu’s hair and tug on the strands again causing the younger man to moan into you as he starts eating you out even rougher, his teeth nipping at your sticky skin and his nose bumping into your clit.

Joshua is next to you suddenly, his soft hands running up your thighs and under your nightshirt. He eases the fabric off of you and tosses it elsewhere. He’s immediately cupping your face again, pulling you in to capture your lips once more. His other hand moves down to grab your breast, kneading and squeezing with the right force to have you panting in his mouth.

Having both men on you like this, touching you everywhere you need it, kissing you everywhere you need it, has you approaching your orgasm quicker than you think you ever have before.

“Gyu baby, Shua, fuck, I-I’m gonna -” For the second time tonight they have you faltering, this time it’s because Joshua pulls away at the same time that he grips Mingyu’s hair and yanks his head from between your legs. Mingyu lets out a groan that meshes with your noise of frustration.

“Why?!” The man still kneeling pouts, looking almost devastated.

“I think this’ll work best in Y/n’s bedroom.” The words barely leave Joshua’s mouth before Mingyu is clambering up from the floor, lifting you from the counter, and placing you onto the floor. He intertwines your fingers and practically drags you to your bedroom.

“Mingyu, there’s no rush!” You try and reassure him, but he has you on your bed almost immediately as you enter the room and is kissing you again.

“I know, baby girl, but I need you so bad. I’ve dreamed about eating you out for fucking ever and you taste so good and I just need to do it before I explode.”

You can’t argue with that so after one more bruising kiss, Mingyu shuffles down the bed and gets comfortable between your legs before diving back in, his tongue thrusting into you once more. Who are you to deny a beautiful man practically begging to eat your pussy? Plus if Mingyu keeps calling you baby girl the way he did, you’ll let him do damn near anything.

Joshua comes into the room then, eyes fixated on the sight before him. You have enough strength amidst Mingyu consuming your soul through your coochie to reach out and stop Joshua before he climbs onto the bed.

“C-clothes off. It’s not - ahh - uh, it’s not fair th-that I’m the only one naked.” Your sentence is capped off with a moan as Mingyu sucks particularly hard.

“Hmmm. I should make you ask me nicer than that,” Joshua teases, pretending to think but it’s only for a second. “But I think I’ll let it slide this time. Next time I won’t be so nice.” The smirk he sends your way is lethal and has you clenching around Mingyu’s eager tongue.

Joshua makes quick work of pulling off his shirt and pants. You can barely marvel at the expanse of the smooth skin of his abs and the sheer size of his cock because Mingyu makes you cum then.

“Oh fuck, yes!” It hits you like a train and your body tingles as you cry out his name. You grip your sheets so hard that your fingers hurt as he peppers kisses all over your pussy, moaning after each smooch.

“You sound so good when you cum, pretty girl. Doesn’t she, Gyu?”

“Fuck, yeah. She does.”

“I wanna hear you cum again, darling. Can you do that for us?” Joshua’s tone is full of honey and sweetness as he licks his fingers and brings them to your clit. You nearly leap off the bed as he begins rubbing circles against you, wetness pooling between your legs as soon as he finds a steady pace.

“Joshua!” You squirm under his touch, both wanting him to stop due to the sensitivity and silently begging him for more.

“I think she wants more, Shua.” Mingyu muses, his breath feeling dangerously close to your inner thigh again.

“Oh yeah? Is that what you want, darling?”

“Mmhmm! Please!”

“Please what?” You wrench your eyes open to look down at them. Mingyu apparently shed his clothes in the time it took for your post-orgasm haze to clear. His hair is a mess and his pupils are blown wide as he stares, eyes darting between your core and your face. Joshua on the other hand is only staring right at you, his brown eyes full of desire as he skillfully rubs your clit, waiting for your response.

“P-please make me cum again,” it’s more a mumble than anything, feeling flustered at having both of them with their attention on you.

In response to the feeble attempt at begging, Joshua smacks your mound, the sting rushing through you deliciously. “You can do better than that, pretty girl. Wanna try again?” Another sharp smack follows and you squeal.

“Please, please make me cum again!” It’s almost a sob this time which seems to please Joshua because the next thing you feel is one of his long fingers slipping into your entrance, immediately having you buck your hips to meet his hand.

“So needy,” he coos at you, heat spreading over you even more, this time in embarrassment.

It doesn’t take long for Joshua to be able to slip another finger in, stretching you out even more. As he fucks you with his fingers, leaving you panting like an animal underneath him, he adjusts his position on his knees and leans up to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Fuuuuuuck!” Your second orgasm is fast approaching with the added stimulation, but it’s not until Mingyu decides to lean down and once again suction his mouth over your clit do you arch almost painfully off the bed, a garble of curses all that’s able to leave your mouth. The heat pools in your belly hot and heavy and this time it feels so much more intense than the first.

This time when you cum, an honest to god shriek rips from you, everything feels too fucking good and your senses going into overdrive. You feel your orgasm spilling out of you as you squirt for maybe only the second time in your life.

“Holy shit, Y/n. You just squirted all over me,” Mingyu marvels.

“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen” Joshua finishes and Mingyu hums in agreement. You’re aware that they’re praising you and you’re giddy about it as the fog in your brain settles and eases away.

“How are you feeling, baby girl?” Mingyu checks in with you after you’ve had time to come down. “Do you want to stop? Because we definitely can.”

“Yeah, this can be it for tonight if you want it to be.”

“No!” You tiredly object, shaking your head furiously. “I’ve wanted this forever. Please fuck me? Shua, Gyu - ‘want you both so bad.” You hope your words convey your need for both of them, adding in a low-effort pout for good measure.

They both look at each other, having another one of their telepathic conversations without you. Instead of saying anything, you open your knees, sopping cunt on display to show them just how much you mean what you say.

A few seconds tick by before Joshua speaks. “Who do you want first?”

“Both of you.”

“Are you sure?”

“A thousand, million times yes. Please don’t make me beg anymore, you said you were being nice to me this time.” You hope you’re batting your eyelashes enough to encourage them to scoop you up and finally do something.

Thankfully it works as both men move into action, maneuvering you and themselves into a position that works best. You all agreed on no condoms since you’re all clean and you’re well-protected yourself.

Joshua’s underneath you as you straddle him, his lips moving sloppily against yours as Mingyu kneels behind you. Joshua has done a good job of distracting you with groping and kissing as Mingyu preps you, already one finger deep in your ass.

When he adds more lube and eases in a second finger, you hiss against Joshua’s mouth at the added stretch.

“Ssh, you’re doing so good pretty girl.” More praise is sung by Joshua as he massages your tits.

“Our good, pretty girl,” Mingyu adds from behind, the other hand that isn’t working you open rubs, and gently kneads your ass cheeks, both men working to relax you.

Their words and touches help, and soon, Mingyu is pulling his fingers from you and tapping the swollen, lubed-up head of his dick against your puckered hole.

“I’ll go slow,” he reassures you as he does. Slowly, he starts to push into you, this stretch stinging so much more. When you let a whimper slip, Joshua’s hold around your middle tightens, keeping you close to him and peppering your face in kisses.

Fuck, Mingyu is big. You finally had a chance to see what you were in for as you were all getting into position and this would certainly be a feat for you - quickly seeing how literally everything about Mingyu is big. You already knew this would be a stretch you’ve never felt.

Mingyu is true to his word and pushes into you gradually, inch by tantalizing inch. It seems like hours go by before he’s fully sheathed inside of you, neither of you moving until everyone is in position.

“Doing okay, darling?” Taking a deep breath you nod at Joshua and he gives you another kiss before lifting his hips, lining himself up with your pussy, and pushing in, just as carefully as Mingyu had. Joshua’s cock isn’t as big as Mingyu, but it’s still impressive enough and plenty thick, the girth alone stretching your walls almost painfully.

Once he’s buried in all the way, no one moves, letting you adjust. Your eyes slip closed as you register how impossibly full you feel and take in how heavy all of you are breathing as you wait.

“Please move,” you finally stutter.

Both of them give your body a shallow thrust to test and that alone has a long, drawn-out moan spilling out of you. Gradually, their thrusts get faster and rougher, giving you more and more until they’re both full-on drilling into you, your body jolting back and forth so fast you can barely keep up.

The wet, squishing sounds of your arousal and the lube fill the room along with the smacks of skin on skin and the harsh spanks Mingyu has started leaving on your ass.

“You’re taking us so well, baby girl,” Mingyu pants out, his hands feeling like fire as they press indents into your skin.

“So, so well, pretty girl. I didn’t know you could take two cocks at the same time,” Joshua’s words are breathy as he bucks his hips up into yours, but they’re no less dirty and teasing.

“I-I’m so f-full…” To your ears, your words sound like gibberish as they both find the perfect rhythm that has your eyes rolling back.

“Yeah? You like being stuffed like this? Two cocks shoved inside of you?” Joshua’s hands are still wrapped around you to hold you steady, punctuating his words with sharp rolls of his hips.

“You like both of us abusing your tight little holes?” Those words come from Mingyu and are punctuated with his fingers in your hair this time, his nails scraping your scalp.

“Yes! Fuck yes, fill me up,” The all too familiar heat starts to churn in your stomach, your walls clenching around both of them as you feel your orgasm brewing. “I’m so fucking close, please!” It’s a needy cry but both of them hear you, their paces becoming quicker and rougher. Mingyu’s fingers stayed buried in your hair, pulling you up just enough to expose your neck. One of Joshua’s big hands moves to grip your neck, using it for leverage to snap his hips up more.

“Gonna cum for us again, pretty girl?” You can’t nod well with his hand where it is, but you hope he at least hears the ‘yes’ that you rasp out between the whines and moans you’ve been letting out.

Your hands, which have been holding you up, start to wobble at the force they’re fucking into you, but you still do your best to move one up to rest over Joshua’s still on your neck. You squeeze around it to try and indicate to him what you want.

“Oh? I think our girl likes to be choked, Gyu.” Involuntarily, you clench and Joshua falters in his pace a little. “Fuck, she just squeezed me so hard - that must be a yes.”

“I think she likes getting her hair pulled too.” Mingyu tugs hard at his words and you manage out a pathetic squeak in response.

Now that they both know what you like, they don’t hold back as they take you to the end. Mingyu tugs your hair so hard it burns, but you like the pain so it pushes you closer.

“Oh, oh oh! Gonna c-cum!” And then you do, with Joshua’s fingers around your neck tightening, succeeding in cutting off your air as you cum for a third time. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, fireworks exploding behind clenched eyelids, and your body goes rigid as the pleasure engulfs you.

“Shit… fuck!” Mingyu cums right after you, not bothering to pull out as he shoots his hot load into you. His groans turn into breathless sighs of your name until he begins slowing down, fucking his cum back into with shallow thrusts.

When Joshua cums next, he releases the grip on your neck so you can greedily gulp air back into your lungs. Both of Joshua’s hands hold your thighs, his nails biting into the skin, as he bucks up into you one, two, three more times before pulling out and cumming between your bodies. His whines are just as desperate as you and Mingyu’s as he empties himself, relishing in the feeling of his dick pressed between your sticky bodies.

Your shared, ragged breaths fill the room, their hips slowing to a leisurely pace until eventually, they stop moving altogether. Mingyu takes his time easing himself out of you and you feel his cum trickle down your ass, earning a groan from behind you. Now that you’re empty again, your eyelids fall shut, draping yourself completely over Joshua’s body.

You hear him chuckle from under you, your body wants so badly to drift off to sleep.

He can tell, because Joshua doesn’t let you do so, telling you everyone needs to clean up first. You try to object, wanting to power down right there, but they will hear nothing of it.

Mingyu is tasked with taking you to the shower and cleaning you up while Joshua changes your extremely soiled sheets. You spend most of the shower leaning against Mingyu’s chest, but he’s more than happy to do most of the work to clean you.

Joshua comes in at some point and fits himself into the small shower with both of you, sandwiching you between both men once again. His gentle hands rub circles on your back, applying light pressure to your sorest muscles.

When everyone is clean again, Mingyu helps you out of the shower and wraps you in a towel, starting to dry you off. He removes your shower cap - which you luckily weren’t too fucked out to forget to tell him you needed - and leans down to place a small kiss on your nose. Mingyu smiles from ear to ear at the giggle you let out and he can’t help but give you a few more pecks all over the rest of your face.

He and Joshua help you back to your bedroom and you immediately crawl into bed, your satin pillowcase practically calling your name.

“Wait, Y/n, what pajamas do you want?”

Shaking your head at Joshua, you finally reach the top of your sheets and burrow into the bed. “No pajamas. I usually sleep naked when Cheol is out of the apartment.”

“Say no more!” Mingyu flops himself down onto the bed without a second thought, efficiently trapping you under the covers.

“Gyu, let me out!”

“Not until you say something nice to me!”

You let out a laugh and feel around the covers to try and find his sides. “Now it makes sense why you always want to be babied - you have a praise kink!” When you find what feels like his toned torso, you grab at him, tickling him the best you can through the fabric.

Mingyu lets out a shrill yelp and flings himself off of the bed to avoid your hands. Joshua bursts into laughter along with you and moves to uncover you from the bed linen. Your first sight is his beautiful smile, his eyes crinkling into the most perfect half-moon shapes. Whenever Joshua looks at you like this - his most beautiful, carefree self - you want so badly to kiss him and experience the moment with him. This time, you remember that now you can do that and so you do. Without a second thought, Joshua is kissing you back, a smile still on his lips as you melt into him. Everything about tonight has felt so perfect - especially this moment right here.

“Hey, me next!” Mingyu whines as the bed dips next to you as he climbs under the covers. You and Joshua pull away, the stars in his eyes twinkling at you, and he lets you go to give your attention to Mingyu.

“I didn’t realize I was getting such a bratty boyfriend,” you tease as you turn to face him, his arms zipping out to wrap around you and pull you close.

“Don’t act so surprised. You’ve known me long enough that you should’ve known. And now it’s too late and you’re stuck with me!” Mingyu winks at you, swooping down to kiss you. It’s true - your beautiful boy has been a big baby from the first day you met him when he whined to Wonwoo about sharing one of his books with him.

“You’re lucky I think you’re too cute to say no to you.” You get the words out in between kisses and chuckles.

“You say that as if you don’t use your cuteness for evil just like him.” Joshua accuses as he flips off the bedroom light, your automatic nightlight across the room glowing a soft orange. He’s last to climb into bed, moving to spoon you with an arm around your waist.

“When do I do that?!”

Scoffing, he gives you a pointed look as he leans on his elbow to look down at you. “All the time! Yesterday when we were at that sushi place you batted your cute little eyelashes at me every time my sushi got to the table and you wanted a taste.” Okay, he’s got you there - you had intentionally pulled out the big guns to taste everything new he ordered.

“Yeah well, maybe you shouldn’t let yourself be swayed so easily.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you just victim-blamed me!”

“And I’ll do it again!”

Mingyu cracks up, his whole body shaking as he laughs.

“Hey, don’t encourage her!”

“But she’s funny and cute!”

“Tsk, tsk. Don’t be so defiant baby boy.” Mingyu chokes on his spit at Joshua’s teasing, staring wide-eyed at the older man from over your head.

“You’re so evil! I remember when you first moved to Korea - you were so sweet! I blame Jeonghan!”

“How about all of us are equally cute and Jeonghan is the root of all evil and now we can go to bed okay? Y’all bicker too loudly to sleep through.” You efficiently silence them, Mingyu sticking his tongue out at Joshua in the dim light but that’s the end of it. Goodnights are passed around and you get two goodnight kisses, one on your forehead and one on your cheek. That’s all you need to fall asleep, surrounded by so much warmth.

Sunlight peeks through your blinds in the morning and when you adjust in your sleep, it leaks through your eyelids. You squint your eyes open a crack, glaring at the offending rays. After blinking a few times to adjust to the light, you glance down, smiling warmly at the sight. Mingyu’s much larger body is attached to your side, his long limbs wrapped and tangled in yours. You can’t see his face from this angle, but his slow breathing lets you know he’s still asleep, shuffling just a bit as he snuggles closer into your chest.

You turn your head to the opposite side, both to get away from the streaks of the sun and to see Joshua’s sleeping face. His eyes are still closed, and the corner of his plush lips are curled up a little, even as he’s dreaming. For what feels like the hundredth time since last night, you’ve felt like this whole thing is a dream, finally having the men you care about the most here with you like this.

“Morning, pretty girl,” Joshua whispers suddenly and you can’t help but jump. You hadn’t realized you had zoned out staring at him.

“Morning, Shua.” He opens his eyes and meets yours, your skin heating up under his gaze. “I didn’t mean to stare!”

“Oh, that’s too bad because I was staring at you on purpose before you woke up.” He winks at you, succeeding in flustering you.

“You’re just going to spend this whole relationship being a worse flirt than you were before last night aren’t you!”

“Mmhmm. And just like Gyu said, it’s too late and you’re stuck with me!” Joshua’s expression turns wicked, mischief clear on his face.

“Shua no, Gyu’s still asleep!” Joshua doesn’t listen, because of course he doesn’t, and digs his fingers into your sides, tickling you. “N-No!” You can’t help but scream, trying to squirm away from him.

Your sudden yell has Mingyu’s head springing up, bleary-eyed but still panicking. “What’s going on?!”

A sudden commotion in the hallway catches your attention and Seungcheol comes barrelling into your open room, hands raised in fight mode. “Y/n are you alright?!” He freezes when he sees you, Mingyu, and Joshua, wrapped up in your sheets, also frozen and staring back at him. “Oh. I thought you were being hurt.” His tone is flat as he drops his fists.

“Cheol, you’re back early! I thought you wouldn’t be back until the evening.” His lack of reaction upon walking into this has some of your embarrassment starting to ebb away.

“Yeah, my brother and I had a fight so I ended up leaving early. I just got home a few minutes ago.”

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Your roommate snorts, his eyebrows raising at you. “You don’t exactly seem to be in the position to talk about my feelings, Y/n.”

“Oh. Well, give me a few minutes and we’ll get up and we can come sit down with you!”

“Nah, Jeonghan is expecting me at his place. I was texting him last night about our fight so he said I can come over when I got in. I just wanted to drop my suitcase off.”

“You texted him first about the fight?! Why not me?!” You huff at him. Seungcheol always confided in you first - since you lived together it just came naturally that you vent to each other first when something upsets you.

“Now be for real, Y/n - you were clearly quite busy after we texted last. Would you have answered me if I texted you at like three?” The struggle to try and remember when exactly Mingyu had started eating you out in the kitchen is real and you can’t come up even a guess of what time that was. “That’s what I thought. See you kids later and stay safe!”

The three of you say your goodbyes, listening to his retreating footsteps before you hear him stop.

“Oh, and if you get a bunch of messages in the group chat all of a sudden, you may wanna just mute it.” He calls down the hall.

Frowning, you share a look with Mingyu and Joshua before answering. “What? Why?”

You almost ask him again, thinking he left without answering, but then he quickly rushes the answer. “Because Jeonghan started a betting pool when he figured out - on his own may I add - that you liked Joshua and Mingyu and he wanted to see how long it would take you to confess to them and I have to tell him he lost!” He speaks fast, but you still hear every word.

“He what?! Seungcheol get back here!” Instead of an answer, he sounds as if he runs down the hall and a second goes by before the front door opens and then closes.

It’s just like you said - Jeonghan is the root of all evil. You fully intend on sending him a scathing text message, but then Mingyu starts kissing your shoulder and neck at the same time that Joshua begins drawing slow yet deliberate patterns over your thighs and hips. They probably sense your aggravation and are easily intending to redirect you. Mingyu also mentions something about making you breakfast in between smooches which also diverts your attention - your empty stomach very noticeable.

Their distraction tactics work of course because soon your mind is redirected to Joshua and Mingyu only and no one else. You’ll deal with the rest of the world later - your ain’t shit friend included - deciding to instead focus on the two beautiful men you get to not only stay friends with but also that you get to be so much more with, which feels like a dream within itself.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 5

A smile from you is all he needs to feel recharged.

Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, Angst , emotional kook, suggestive messages, poor Maria pt.1 [Tags will be different for every part!]

Length: 1k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

Collab with @euphoricfilter ! 💜

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

This is not going to plan at all.

Not only is he behind schedule wise, he's also not thought about the possibility of what this all might look like to you at all. Because why would you even think that in the first place? He'd be absolutely stupid to cheat on you, let alone with a 64 year old married woman of all people!

But then again, you don't know that part- and he also can't really properly explain it as he would surely blow his own cover, and he's just too close to the finish line to give up now. He already almost cried at deleting your face ID and fingerprint from his phone, feeling like he deleted the memory of setting those things up too, but he swore himself it's for a good cause down the line. You'll make so many more memories together for sure, and they'll top those more than by just a little. He'll make sure that they will.

[Alright, I'm so excited! Next time let's do it this way right from the start- no need to make it so complicated!] Maria had wrote him in full, and he reads over it with a bit of worry. Does she really understand what he meant by his worries?

[I'm not sure you understand. I'm planning something big, and I'm also behind when it comes to physical intimacy these days, you know?] He writes the woman, who he's asked prior about the rules and such regarding.. well, sex in the home he's renting out for the upcoming special occasion he's planned. He doesn't want to get locked up for not following some Airbnb laws he overlooked after all. That would just be embarrassing. [And we're very intimate people. I'm taking her pleasure and happiness seriously, if you get the hint.] He texts her as he boils some water on the stove for his absolute accurately made ramyeon.

[Oh trust me, I've been young too! No need to be shy, I can only imagine that emotions will run high most likely!] She responds, and Jungkook pursed his lips for a second, before he starts to play with his piercings deep in thought.

[No, Maria, I don't think you get it-] he begins to type. [-it's been almost two full weeks at this point, that's the longest we've ever gone without any sex, we're talking at least three orgasms a day times fourteen, I've got some major catching up to do..] jungkook sends her, before he puts his phone down for a second as to prepare the instant noodles properly.

[It's fine, really. No need to worry!] The woman responds. But jungkook wants to make sure.

[She's a squirter- you know what that is right? Either way it's gonna get messy so I'm just making sure you REALLY know what you're getting into if you say it's alright because the carpet looked really nice and I'm not sure how to get cum stains out of that] he rambles, not noticing you emerge from the bedroom now as you put your bag on one of the kitchen chairs. [I can replace it too if that happens no problem, you know how my girlfriend gets haha. Well you don't but you will know after we're done with the place-] he taps and accidentally sends out as you call his name, causing him to almost drop his phone into the soup pot on the stove, only barely catching it in time before he can practically throw it into the pocket of his sweatpants. "Yeah?" He asks towards you, and you look at him still way too hostile in his opinion.

He knows you can be a bit of a hot head. It's what he loves about you- how fierce you can get and how you'll always stand your ground. But he also knows that you're a bit of an aklebiter with some serious anger issues sometimes- once you see red, you don't see anything else anymore. So he's got to be careful not to fuck it up any further, because once he loses you, he loses for good.

Because you're stubborn if you've made up your mind.

"The water's boiling over." You mumble, avoiding his gaze as you sit at the kitchen table, arms crossed in defense. He jumps at your words and turns off the stove at that, somewhat awkwardly playing up some food into bowl for the both of you, watching you eat silently across from him with an almost needy gaze.

You're gonna probably try and kick his balls if he asks you to sit on his lap right now, so he swallows down the request to keep them intact.

He's gonna seriously crunch some hours while you're sleeping over at a friend's house so he can still make the deadline, able to pass up on sleep with you not actually home to scold him for it. He hates the fact that the app on his phone constantly reminds him of the lack of intimacy between you two- taunting him with notifications about his streak being broken, his record being topped, his spot up top on the scoreboard being taken. He hates it. He created this app, he should be the one who's best at it too!

God he can't wait to get his hands on you again. He feels like his dick is going to fall off in the next few days.

And it's not just that, either. He doesn't sleep well when you're not with him, he misses all the interactions you usually have during the day, the love, the intimacy of just being close, he misses it so bad. And he kind of doesn't want you to leave right now- he'd love to just call it quits and just cave in, but he's come too far now, and you're also a strong independent woman. You deserve to choose where you want to go or stay, he's got no say in that- or at least he shouldn't try to have it.

"I.. You'll text me when you wanna come back home, right?" He asks as he finishes his bowl, and you shrug.

"Whatever." You mumble. "S' not like you want me home for more than the chores anyways." You huff into your food, and he can't help but feel his eyes tear up. No, stupid Jungkook, don't fucking cry right now. You're gonna ruin it all with your dumb tears and weak heart just like always-

"I do want you home.." he mumbles quietly, blinking harder to avoid you spotting anything off- but you notice. Of course you do.

"...I'll text you." You say, and that at least soothes his mind for the moment as his phone falls out of his pocket, screen cracking and making him cringe.

Fuck. That's the what.. 20th time this year?

But it's all worth it, if it means he can at least see the hint of a smile pull at your lips for once.

The sight alone motivation enough to make him work even harder now.

[pascals-doll]

AGORA HILLS

ellie williams x reader

『••✎••』 after your date turns into a night of hell, love is there to show you how sweet life is about to get. | 7.9K

ೀ THIS IS A SERIES | FOR ALL PARTS GO HERE

ೀ SERIES MASTERLIST | CH.3

ೀ i wanna say a biggg thank you to bookie @openupforme for encouraging me to whip up the scene where ellie tries readers ethnic food and also being the sweetest 🥹 love u bb!

ೀ description: MODERN AU! VIOLENCE! ANGST! DESCRIPTIVE MENTION OF BLOOD L/FIGHTING! MAJOR FLUFF !!! FLUFF, MILD ANGST, latina!reader, mentions of smoking weed and drinking, mentions of Joel throughout, ellie learning spanish!!! (i lowk had too much fun this), kissing/makeouts, ellie and jesse indulge in reader and Dina’s ethnic food, mention of y/n (___).

CHAPTER FOUR

❝ i wonder how he would feel if he knew his girl was a dyke ❞

❝ what the fuck did you say? ❞

Ellie’s voice rang through your shut-out ears inaudiblely.

it felt like the entire world just stopped moving, your hearing becoming obstructed by ringing, muffling any sound or voice as your mind completely shut down.

you felt your entire system almost reset with pure rage, absolutely loosing it.

your mind might’ve shut down but your body senses didn’t fail you as the only thing that continue to ring through your mind was each word that left that man’s mouth.

your brain pounding with the words.

❝ i wonder— ❞

❝ how he would feel if he knew—❞

❝ if he knew his girl was—❞

for you, it was all unraveling in slow motion as your minds clouded your conclusion thinking.

for Ellie, she was ready to punch the man, speaking up “what the fuck did you just say?” but within the blink of her own eyes, you had already charged at the man.

your vision was vermillion, blinded by rage.

your body was auto-response, having a mind of its own. your manicured nails dug into the skin of his flesh as your hands clawed onto him after charging at him.

your first punch was sloppy and impactful, the adrenaline was enough to numb the painful sensation that would bring you hell later, your manicure scratching his face.

your knee dug into his rib-cage as you were onto of him, each one of your hands landing their very own ablaze blows to his head and face. you didn’t care to check if you had broken a nail or for anything in that matter.

your only focus was him like your own mental target as he was clearer than day, now under you while his hands struggle to force away your own. your anger gave you enough adrenaline to strengthen yourself; overpowering his attempts of trying to roll you under him.

you had finally recognized the motherfucker.

it was your ex’s ex-coworker from his old job, he had met you a couple times when you and your ex-boyfriend would hang out with his old group of work friends.

if it wasn’t for his stupid name-tag, you wouldn’t of even remembered that the prick’s name was Cameron.

yeah, that name definitely rang a bell.

the only reaction to your own proper thought was your impact against his face plaguing him more than before, your furry only festering more.

all you could think about was your ex.

he cheats on you and then he goes around telling his friends, what? come after you for leaving his ass? like they had the goddamn right?

your mind was in a tormental frenzy, one frantic thought being replaced with another, now all you could hear was his words again.

❝ how he would feel if he knew—❞

❝ he—he—he—he ❞

each mental repeat was violent scratching hit to his face.

Ellie just stood there, awe-struck because of how quick everything emersed into a violent situation. she was ready to charge at the man, but she wanted to talk her shit first.

she was a shit talker as much as she was a fighter.

but you? there was no words, just raging punches.

you were sure your fists were red, cut up, and sore; possibly even fractured but you couldn’t see with the hair in your hair and your body thrashed against his hands that tried to grab a hold of you aggressively.

you could hear mumurs and gasps from people, heavy footsteps of the restaurant staff buzzing around you as his hands punctured a squeeze into your arms your hand managed to pick his head and throw against the restaurant floor.

your throat gutted out a shriek of anger, suddenly being pulled off by random hands off the now, bloody bruised man.

the second ellie heard you scream, she was pulled out of her struck-stuck trance, immediately running to the staff member that was able to pull you off of Cameron.

“don’t you fucking touch her!”

ellie yell echoes through the restaurant, another staff member running up infront of ellie “If you get involved, we will be pressing charges!” the random restaurant staff member warns ellie.

she shrugs off the staff members hands off of her before running over to you as you were yelling for the random staff member to let go of you, trying to wriggle yourself out of their embrace.

“you need both need to leave this establishment now!” another staff member yelled at the both of you as Ellie reaches out to grab you, the staff member letting go of the tight hold they had on you to release you towards Ellie.

you’re body was shaking with violent thrill, laughing almost manically. “you need to check the people you fuckin’ let work here!” you spat back loudly, you look around at the crowd of other restaurants guests began to form around the entry room.

“FOR EVERYONE’S INFORMATION, I JUST BEAT CAMERON’S ASS WHOM YOU MAY NOT KNOW BUT IS THE TRASHY WAITER THAT YOU DON’T CARE TO TIP CAUSE HE LOOKS AND IS BUILT LIKE AN ASSHOLE”

you didn’t care that you looked crazy making the announcement as you squirmed in Ellie’s hold, flanting your blood-covered arms around with each yell and your dress also slightly being covered in someone’s blood; not caring if it was yours or his.

“____, your arm!” Ellie said, immediately reaching out to hold it.

you adverted your gaze from the crowd, who know looked at the man who had now stood up from the floor; surrounded by the staff as the crowd whispered to each other.

he broke through the flesh of your arm when he squeezed you, slightly dry, yet oozy blood beading down your arm.

“leave now before we call the police!” the staff warn once more.

you heard ellie softly reassure in your ear. you leaned into her as her back against the front door.

but you had one thing to say before you left.

“go ahead and tell him, then tell him i said, ‘i fuckin’ dare him to show up to my work again. he will end up alot worse than you’—” you began as your eyes burned into his fucked-up face.

you didn’t care if anyone was looking nor caring for anyone else; making sure he picked up on every single word you said.

“tell him—its not a threat, its a promise fuckin’ marícon!”

just like that, Ellie’s back pushed against the front door.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

what a great way to end the fucking night.

you both walked across the bumpy asphalt pavement of the parking lot. the cold breeze finally stinging your wounds, you couldnt help but let out a loud wince.

youre entire body felt on fire, mental completely overwhelmed by all types of emotions.

you were shaking with leftover furry, you wanted to cry your eyes out, you felt embarrassed, and most of all, you were scared.

you weren’t scared of what just happened or what your ex wanted from you. you were scared of how ellie might see you; you were scared of the questions she might ask.

your body was worn out, your legs wobbly as they ached from all the thrashing around. you guys walked closer to her car but eventually your legs gave out.

you slipped onto the floor, tripping over nothing but the own pain inflamed in your ankles and knees.

that was all it took for you to breakdown.

“hey hey, we’re almost there—talk to me.” ellie catches you almost immediately.

she laid you softly onto the dirty rocky pavement alongside you, resting half of you ontop of her. she couldn’t of cared less about the dirty floor, frankly caring to have you lay on her instead of the dirty public pavement.

she lulled you and hummed against your ear as you sobbed uncontrollably in her arms, no thoughts just tears. “c’mon baby, we’re almost there and everything will be okay” her whispers sounded like angels talking as she covered your shaking body with her arms.

you gasped out through choked sobs “i—can’t—go home like this!” you cried out, you can’t imagine what you would have to tell your parents; with them having to see you bloody with bruises.

Ellie mustered up her strength to pick you up from ontop of her, her hands strongly holding you up by your waist; hauling your body softly “s’okay, its all okay—i can talk to Joel—shit! lets cross everything off tonight!” she jokes light-heartedly, trying to ease up the overwhelmed tension inside you.

it works, of course it works.

she knew how to make you laugh, you couldn’t breathe almost from how much you laughed earlier during dinner. you couldn’t help but let a teary smile tug your flushed face as you looked into Ellie’s eyes, giving her small meek chuckle.

her heart shattered just seeing you cry, she takes one of the hand that was around your waist tightly; once you reached the doors of her car, she took your face and wiped the tears that dripped down your cheeks.

Ellie felt a hulking weight on her shoulders seeing you breakdown the way you did, she could care less about the ravenous rage she just seen you go through. she cared more about the fragile woman she had in her arms.

this was completely different, this moment exposed your vulnerability; not only yours, but Ellie’s aswell, to each other.

this whole situation completely contrasted the side you showed to everyone, the side Ellie was used too. the woman who walks into any room with her head held high, challenging, and ready to take on anything with your fierce self.

“I really really dont want to meet your dad covered in blood and bleeding” your tone was no longer shaky or croaked, still keeping its sensitive tone as you spoke back light-heartedly.

ellie knew you were serious through your playful tone. she gave you a soft smile as she opened the car door for you, even helping your aching body get in carefully.

once you were both in the car and settled, you calmed down more; even quicker than you thought with the help of Ellie’s embrace and reassurance.

“can you take me to Dina’s—you can come, but i understand if after tonight—” once you began to speak, you were cut off by ellie immediately.

“no, i don’t care to hear what leaves your mouth—it ain’t true, pretty. wherever you go, im going.” ellie poured out, looking into both of your eyes like she was searching in them.

“if that’s okay with you” she finishes, her eyes glistened softly as her eyes loved on you.

you could almost start crying again. well, you did.

“put dina on the phone—let’s call it night, alright?” she wiped each singular tear that dropped from each of your eyes, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

Ellie helped you up the apartment hallway stairs, helped you all the way towards the elevator till you were at Dina’s front door; even holding you up as you jingled the keys into the lock.

this was a definitely story-time.

you unlock the door, hand turning the knob as you let yourselves in; almost immediately you hear your name being called out by Dina through her apartment.

you were greeted by your bestfriend who ran up to you, engulfing you. you rocked back slightly, catching yourself on your feet at the impact of her hug.

“are you okay? what the fuck happened?” Dina’s rushes out, anxiety evident in her voice.

“Jesse?” you heard Ellie call out as your eyes examined the room, falling onto the man who was sat on the couch.

“i was here when Dina got the call…you good?”

it was endearing watching them, the way he picked up on how ellie didn’t even want to speak, just leaning into his side for a hug.

you let out a sigh, your arms grew weak as they loosen trying to embrace her. Dina held your body as she motioned for you to step out of your shoes.

your legs wobbled out with each little movement.

“hey jesse—sorry i look like a crime scene.” you joke out which he just gave a slight smile too “you look bad-ass.” he chuckles causing you to giggle, finally stepping your bare-feet onto dina’s wooden floor.

“you gonna be okay, ___?” jesse was concerned just as much through his wittiness. you give him a confident smile and nod, not wanting to let up your vulnerability again.

“im gonna get her cleaned up, ellie would you like a change of clothes?” Dina lets them know, wrapping her arm around you to hold you up, leaning herself into your semi-limp body to help you step.

“i’d appreciate it Dina, thank you!—also i hate to fucking ask but i need a smo—”

“Bong’s on the kitchen table, Jesse has the pack.” Dina smiles out before helping you down her apartment hallway into her bathroom.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

“remember Cameron?” you nettled out, breaking the silence between the two of you as Dina bathed you.

“that one guy you tried to get me to go on a double date on with you and your ex?”

“yeah, him—he works at the restaurant we went to eat at.”

“jesus christ—” you cut her off.

“he recognized me the second he got to our table Deens—he was giving me this fucking look.”

“what the fuck did he say?”

“he didn’t say anything at first—as we were walking out of the restroom—”

“i thought you guys were eating, why were you both in the—”

“Deens, let me fucking finish!” you whine out as she continues to scrub down your naked body with the personal loufa you leave for when you sleepover; washing away the blood into the water down into the bath-drain.

“sorry sorry—im listening.” she gets up momentarily to open one of her bathroom cabinets.

“we were about to literally leave, Dina—so close through those fuckin’ doors—he goes ‘i wonder how he would feel if he knew his girl was a dyke’ i just lost it.”

“wait, ‘he’ as in….” Dina began to trail off.

“yes!—hearing ese’pendejo mention him—then that fucking word.” you grumbled out, feeling angry again.

Dina came back with hydrogen peroxide, rubbing alcohol, and a couple healing ointments along with the cotton pads to tend to your wounds.

Dina had already got done helping you finish washing up in the bathtub, the hot water was still running to keep your tense muscles from aching continuously.

your knees were a bit scraped up, slight yellow tint underlying in your skin;you knew you would wake up with those to be purple the next day.

Dina picked up one of your arms first, later on tending to the other.

“he did this?”

she looked at each puncture in your skin, a crease-cutting through indents of each five nails digging into each of your arms.

you scoff. “Si no lo hubiera hecho en su lugar de trabajo, me estarías rescatando de la cárcel ahora mismo.” (if he didn’t do it at his workplace, you would be bailing me out right this moment.)

you weren’t kidding. Dina knew you weren’t, even with the slight giggles you both let out to lighten the mood as she tended to all your wounds precisely. she finished up by aiding each arm, wrapping around a white gauze around before putting her fluffy robe on you.

you both made it back to your room for you to change into comfortable clothes and pick out some of your clothing for ellie to wear.

the midnight definitely made up for the encounter you and ellie had to go through earlier. the four of you spent the night passing the bong around, you and ellie specifically getting so high out your asses.

you were all indulging in the sweet playful haze the terpenes fogged inside your bodies. nothing was serious, popping jokes left and right; shit, even the whole shitty was situation turned into a meer joke with the four of you.

“anything is fighting attire for this one!” Dina laughs out pointing at you, coughing out the smoke after.

“eesh! i believe it—you should’ve seen—she looked like a cheetah pouncing with that dress on!” ellie chuckles out, following Dina’s joke as her high low-eyes rake through you.

“idiotás…” you laugh out as you pass the bong to Jesse.

“hey! i’m not the one callin’ you ‘national geographic’—what does that even mean?” Jesse retorts playfully before hitting the bong.

“bro just add the ‘ass’ to idiot” Ellie makes fun of Jesse playfully while completely butchering the spanish syllable.

“oh ellie, stop talking!—your first spanish lesson will be with ___ tomorrow.” Dina teases.

you all soaked in the Dina’s living room full of marijuana smoke until the high laughter shared between all of you would take you all out into a slumber. it was later than 3 am by the time you all knocked out.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

it was the next morning, probably the best morning’s you’ve ever had even with the excruciating pain you woke up with.

you woke up entangled in ellie’s arms, you both fell asleep on Dina’a couch while Jesse and Dina slept in her bedroom.

you fluttered your eyes open, head on her chest while each one of her arms was wrapped around you almost protectively. you could hear each beat of her heart as her chest heaved softly, mumuring in a pattern underneath the side of your head.

the feeling of her heartbeat was like listening to the pleasing sound of rain tricking against a window; bringing the same bliss, maybe even more as listening to her heartbeat lulled you in and out of sleep.

‘esto tiene que ser como se siente el paraíso.’ (this must be what heaven feels like)

ellie had her hands loomed into and through the texture of your hair, holding the back-side of your head slightly; cradling your head almost.

the atmosphere was incensed by the mixture of body-heat you shared through each others bodies. the warm felt like something stronger than a blanket.

the sun-ray shines through Dina’s tall curtains that covered her wide-spread windows, enhancing the two of you under nature’s glow.

you took in the way her fair skin contrasted your bronze one beautifully, the way her tattoos illuminated, especially the tattoo of her fern and moth; you admired all her small other tattoos.

she had a a cursive J on her other wrist, Joel’s initial.

on the same arm, on her arm cephalic she had a line that was a thin as a guitar string. you observed the small prominent ink and the way it wrapped around her arm.

ellie’s tattoos were simple but you knew they were symbolic in some way which made her tattoos completely beautiful to you. unknowningly, your hands had been caressing the soft skin of her arms as you traced over her tattoos; getting lost in her shut eyes.

“buenos días” you could hear ellie’s morning voice, her thick rasp as she grumbled out.

your eyes widen slightly taken aback, you were hoping she hadn’t sensed you staring. you dipped your face into the crevess between eachother’s arms; slightly embarrassed.

“mírala, primera día conmigo y ya sabes.” (look at her, first day with me and you already know.) you played with her as you hid your face away.

“hold on hold on, don’t get too confident in me now.” ellie retorts quickly, her eyes completely widen out of groggy slumber at the smooth quick pace of your accent; almost not catching onto any of the foreign words.

you let out a bit of louder laugh, god, she could even wake you up with a laugh.

“buenos días, bombón” the tension was like dripping sugary corn syrup, the most honeyed atmosphere you had ever been engulfed with and exposed too.

there was no way you could ever compare your ex to ellie. not in one singular way could the love you were feeling for ellie ever be compared to the love you have felt.

“should’ve payed more attention to spanish in highschool and Joel’s tutoring.” you tease her with a smile at the mention, how she miserably failed all four years of spanish even with Joel’s basic—practically ‘personal google-translate’ help.

Ellie grabs the pillow she was laying her head on to playfully hit you with it. your arm reflexes and reaches out your hand, just in time to stop the pillow from hitting your side. you both burst into a fit of giggles as you begin a soft playful morning tussle.

you grab ahold of the pillow that ellie tries to push closer to you with her hands, you eventually find the perfect moment to slip it out of her tight grip and throwing it across the room; taking one leg and hoisting it on her hip as you both laid on your sides.

Ellie rolled you over, trying to tip you onto Dina’s huge black furry carpet. you immediately caught yourself on the rest of couch arm-rest, leaving you on top of her, each leg bent to each of her sides.

this position was compromising in someway, you felt more connected to her like this. the smiles from your faces didn’t falter for second, but only shifted into admiration.

you both admired eachother, both of your eyes holding overflowing adoration. your essences soak into each other as ellie traces your tattoos. she replicated the treatment you were showing her from earlier as you studied the shape of her lips, how long her lashes were, and the way her hair fell down; few strands falling onto her face.

you were so used to seeing her with her hair up, she mentioned to you how it was just more comfortable for her, how she grew to enjoy the feeling of the breeze of her neck. maybe it wasn’t a big deal, but it was for you.

in some way you felt this as a way of ellie’s vulnerability, dropping her guard and allowing you to see her with such intimacy and in ways you had never seen her before,—you knew this was different for her too.

that was the thing with her, your thoughts to yourself continue as you lean closer into her, chests pressing together; aligning heartbeats as you got lost in a strong energetic haze.

the scene was ethereal.

the sun glowing trancing your deep embrace, silhouetting your skin-to-skin held contact onto the shined-on carpet covered floor. the way your head laid ontop of Ellies as her own dipped into the clavicle of your shoulder, her deep breathing feathering your collarbone and tickling you.

eventually your heads meet, foreheads touching as your eyes poured into each other. you watched the way Ellie’s eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes, then repeating. it seemed like an all natural action when your lips met.

the kiss was so gentle and soft, yet overfilled with so much. your lips tingled against the warm feeling of Ellie’s tongue swiping over your bottom lip, wanting more of your lips.

there wasn’t a single worry between the two of you. you brought your gauzed up hand to caress her cheek which she softly grabbed your wrist, departing from the kiss you shared to peck your bandaged bruised knuckles.

“i’m sorry about—”

”don’t you ever apologize for something you don’t have too.” Ellie told you sincerely, cutting you off.

“but you don’t understand—” you continued to push.

“ill understand with you, and if i don’t. you will teach me.”

Ellie didn’t even want you trying to protest once more, pulling you back into her lips softly. your lips continuing moving in a plush motion.

your hands found their way to her hair, entangling them through her smooth straight locks, massaging your fingertips into her scalp. you hummed contently into the savorful kiss that you shared; your mind wanting more, craving and needing more.

it felt like each wet passionate lock between each other was an eternity of bliss.

Ellie’s hands caress up and through your back, her fingers tracing your spine before resting them onto the dip of your hips.

“lesbians are making on my couch—okay! going back inside my room!” Dina calls out before quickly retreating into her own bedroom.

you both whipped your heads around, breaking your kiss instantly; just to catch the door closing shut.

you both fell into a fit of giggles as each other’s doed out eyes soaked into the morning aroma together.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

the way the four of you spent the day together.

you all started off the day by settling to go to the classic old diner down the road for a good breakfast. it was 10:20 AM by the time you guys were smoking out of your purple ‘alien-looking’ pipe, as described by Ellie, herself.

maybe it was this morning, maybe last night.

it has now more than ever became clear to you exactly how Ellie had you feeling, being more handsy on both ends. you couldn’t help but feel as your skin was burning, if her hands weren’t there to cool you down.

definitely now more than ever, it was crystal clear.

“uhm, earth to the both of you!” Dina clears her throat, calling out loudly to the both of your attention.

a moment ago, your legs were on ellies lap as her hands caressed all up and down your exposed legs due to you wear some simple shorts. it wouldn’t be believable but you didn’t understand how quickly just a couple loveable leg rubs led to a mini make-out sesh behind Dina and Jesse in the passenger seat.

you both jumped away from each other, as if you had both been pulled into a trance as you both blinked away at your friends reactions.

“lets go before y’all eat each other for breakfast.” Jesse jokes out as he opens his passenger door causing a heat to rush onto ellie’s cheeks shut up—you kept us up all night.—ellie’s smart and quick to remark teasingly.

once finally seated into the cute diner, very vintage americana looking diner. the four of you were all seated into a red-seats booth that had a table with fake cherries for table decor.

you scanned the menu below, taking in all the options of different breakfast entrees; the variety of omelettes, sandwiches, toasts, and pancakes. you settled on frosted fluffy strawberry french toast while you ordered coffee.

“jeez, you and Joel—coffee lovers, bleh!” ellie grimaced in fake disgust and disbelief, making a forced disgusted noise after ordering herself.

“why thank you, Joel and I have taste.” you sarcasm out, giggling slightly. Ellie just admired the way your smile tugged your cheeks and creased your eyes joyfully.

Ellie matched your small chuckle as you spoke up. “we will mock your hate over our hot cup of coffee!” you lean in, bringing your pointer finger to poke at her dimpled cheek which she reactively crinkle her nose.

everyone finished ordering their choice of meals, indulging in humorous banter all together. you learned about how about ellie’s summer this one time Joel had a fling with this sweet mexican woman he completely fell infatuated with, how it was probably the best summer of her life due to the countless of grill-outs they both loved to have.

“oh so, your thing for latinas runs in the family?” you quirk causing Jesse to let out a holler as Dina snorts out, using her hand to cover her mouth.

“uh—what—how did you even come up with that?” Ellie stumbles over her word.

“nah yeah, it definitely run in the family.” Jesse chimes in with a smirk causing you to clap and laugh out just more.

“the both of you don’t have a single fuckin’ idea on what your on about!” Ellie retorts, for some reason, her cheeks rushing fusion.

as you were about to speak up, the waitress came with each one of your plates. you all ate silently, yet peacefully and happily. the silence connecting you all more if anything.

one hand held your dullish knife as your other hand held your fork; you held your toast down with your fork as your cut off a piece off your toast, gathering the maple syrup along with the topped frosted butter. you let out a moan of content as the sweet combination hit your tastebuds as your eyes widen in pure foodie-bliss.

the scene of you trying a delicious meal, savoring it too was possibly the most adorable and gorgeous thing you’ve done in the past month you spent with her, exploring eachother. you took a few more bites before your little amused grin while you swallowed your bites of food turned your grin into a smile as you began to cut another piece of your toast. you repeat the same steps before asking, well not really.

you held the fork up as you hummed loudly and excitedly—ready to airplane a spoonful into Ellie’s mouth.

“tè va a’ gustar…” you muttered under your blissed breath.

Ellie opens her mouth, grinning as she hears the little spanish sentence fall from your lips. you playfully do a small swerve, then eventually holding it close to her mouth for her to close her lips around. she kept eyes contact with you as she ate the piece of toast off your fork, eyesbrows raising in delight which you only nod your head, knowingly too.

Jesse and Dina watched the both of you amused before returning to their own conversation, how it was dina’s dream to roadtrip to California. you could hear her small talk drown out from your ears as the world felt like it spun, making it feel like it was just you two.

“it’s delicious, mama.” she hums out.

“i know, now say ‘que deliciosó’!”

Ellie tries her best to repeat after you, stuttering over her pronunciation.

“that was absolutely!—horrendous.” Dina fakes enthusiasm before completely deadpanning her expression.

“i would love to hear Jesse try!” Ellie claims, leaning into her own seated side of the booth.

“kay!—deli—si-o-so!”

you shared an awkward glance to Dina as Dina lips flatline completely, biting back a laugh as Ellies eyes meet yours before glancing at Dina. the table was silent as Jesse questioned what he said wrong, not holding in your laughter as you all laugh collectively.

“just stick to english, babe.” Dina consoles teasingly as you and Ellie try to catch your breath.

“i definitely did not sound like that!” Ellie laughs out, trying to catch her breath.

“easy Jesse!” you follow along, laughing in sync.

“the spanish lessons are for Ellie—not me.” Jesse immediately raised his hands up in the air as defense before going back to dig into the omelette he ordered.

now it was Ellie’s turn, she picked up the loaded crossiant sandwhich carefully. you shot her a small smile, moving your hair out the way slightly as you leaned in to take a bite out of her breakfast sandwich. you savored the buttery bread from the crossiant as the mix of cheese, hash brown, and mapled sausage mix into your mouth.

“ta—tè gusta?” she stumbled but managed to say it right. if your stomach wasn’t fluttering like a swarm of butterflies before, it definitely was now.

“mm!, muy rico.” you smile as you hear Dina clap, putting her fork down onto her plate of pancakes.

“okay spanish 101!, call Joel!—tell him Carne Asada at my house!” she exaggerates.

“girl, i know you kidding, but now, i want carne asada.” you tutt out before sipping on your coffee.

you all enjoyed your dinners together, laughing, conversating, and more importantly, bonding all the same.

“so, we hittin’ the store after this?” Jesse chimes with a stupid smile.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

the trip to the grocery store was definitely….something.

Ellie and Jesse were like toddlers while you and Dina spent time hunting for the ingredients throughout the store.

“how about you get the drinks and let the—ahem, adults handle this.” Dina clears her throw, pointing back and forth between you and her.

“uh what—” Ellie began to protest.

“you—i need you to get limes, cilantro, and white onion.” you listed as you pointed to Ellie, whom immediately stopped talking.

“yes ma’am.” was all she said, before pulling you in for a kiss which you instinctively went to place your hand behind her neck gently, momentarily before pulling away.

“my beautiful man in the entire universe of ugly rotting men—who also happens to be of legal age!—get your sexy girlfriend liquor?” Dina remarks sweetly and dramatically.

“wow!, coarsing me into buying alcohol for you guys—that’s illegal.”

“look at you! knowing the law and shit—get us a bottle of Pátron Silver.” Dina quirked, giving him a kiss on the lips.

you all split up, each to their own getting what they needed. you picked out rice, brown beans, queso fresco, pepper/jalapeno, avocados, and of course, the steak. Dina grabbing any other ingredients needed.

once everyone was set, meeting at the store cart that Ellie strolled around.

“awe look at you guys! wasn’t so hard, huh?”

Dina playfully snarks out as you guys walk towards self-checkout. you watched the way Jesse playfully smacked Dina’s butt, kissing her forehead while at it. then, feeling a small arm sneak around the back of your waist.

“look at that straight shit.” she playfully icks out, getting a small giggle out of you.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

once you entered Dina’s—it was go-time.

the sound of the kitchen rustling with a bunch of noise coming from the hustling around from yourself, along with Dina. you got to marinating the steaks as Jesse got the mini grill that was outside of Dina’s balcony.

music tunes through Dinas personal handheld speaker as you got your freshly washed hands dirty. you cut multiple limes, then bringing out the salt and pepper.

the entire time, every time you grabbed a piece of raw steak; squeezing the lime juice onto the meat before sprinkling bit by bit salt & pepper, Ellie watched.

she couldn’t help not too stare.

she admired the concentration you carried with the biggest smile on your face—especially impressed by the way you squeezed the half-piece lime with one hand completely.

“what’s meat in spanish?” Ellie asks innocently, slightly hovering closer to you.

your smile widen, your teeth glimmer as you passed the seasoned steak onto an empty glass platter for Dina to take outside.

“say carne, baby.” you keep an eye on her as you spoke.

“carne—oh!, its in the name.”Ellie slightly confuses.

you lean in to give her a small peck “ay cariño, you are so cute.”

“you did say spanish 101 today—what did you call me?”

“special nickname—just for you!” you shot her a playful wink. you could still see unsurity in her face. “nothing bad, baby—it’s a term of endearment.” you finish off, placing the second marinated steak onto the glass plate.

“venga para acá, let me show you how.” you signal with your messy hand. Ellie made her way around from the counter she was leaning on, walking uo slightly behind you before standing next to you.

“come over here, empieza a poner sal y pimienta—start to put salt and pepper.” you repeated after yourself. you obeserved carefully the way she began to pronounce each foreign word.

“slow baby—you got it, pi-me-yen—tà.” you her at the end as she didn’t sound too bad for her first try. Ellie tries once again as she lathers the meat in the salt and pepper, flipping the meat over to do the same on the other side.

you got closer, leaning your head on her shoulder as your hands went to grab the salt as she rubbed in the lime juice. you pour a bit of salt onto your hand as you get ready to sprinkle it. Ellie’s hand made moved away slightly before going back to the spots you sprinkle salt to rub it in; the both of your arms ontop of another, almost entangled as you both began to season together.

the intimacy was different, yes it was romantic; definitely not sexual—this entire moment shared together gave you both a sensibility of home. the sweet tension divert into domestic parallels as Ellie’s back met your chest like magnets, feeling the way your breath feathered against the back of her neck in gentle rhythm.

it wasn’t just the physical touch that made the both of your bodies feel like electricity firing through each other’s veins.

the senses you both individually carried feeling like it invisibly oozed into each other, interlocking your connected hearts.

Ellie melted into you, her head moving the tiniest bit. you took it as a signal to dip your head intonthe crevess of her neck and peppering kisses as both of your hands smeared among the meat. you hward the way a sweet little symph of a hum was enough to have your heart jumping out your chest.

you gave a Ellie’s hands a bit of space, letting her transfer the piece of meat with the rest of the seasoned pieces on the glass plate. Ellie turned her head to the side, the side of her face, partly almost facing you completely; that was till she turned her head completely, moving a hand away in the process to not keep her encaged.

you just poured into each other’s eyes, neither of you wanted to leave the aroma of this feeling.

Ellie leaned in, eyes jumping from your eyes to your lips. you both kept your hands lowered as they were covered in the seasoning and lime juice; nothing stopping her from the way her lips locked into yours intoxicatingly.

“lets take these out to them, mama” she pulls away with a goofy smile, hinting at the meat.

༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻ ༺ ♱ ༻

the sun had set and the late evening arrived, watching the way the orange sky smiled back at the four of you as you all created a night to remember.

the sound of Bachatá Xtremè’s ‘Te Extraño’ playing through as you and Dina took slight dance-like steps between each shot, chasing it by sucking on a piece of lime.

you both started off chill at first—making yourselves a little drink to sip on as you finished cooking and smashing the beans, dina finishing up the rice, and making the guacamole—the more spanish bangers came on, your amount drinks had gotten hefty.

Jesse was on the Grill, occasionally being pulled away from a very drunk dina to dance with her—kudos to Jesse though, he kept a pretty good pace.

♫₊˚.🎧 now playing: AGORA HILLS

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

right now, you were sat ontop of Ellies lap, puffing on the blunt she rolled. she had one arm cradling the back of you as the other passed the smoke between the both of you.

Ellie spent the day admiring the way you ran around all day, now that you were here; with her sat and seated. it was your turn to admire the strong gorgeous woman.

although the sun had set, the slight glow from the toned out blue sky perfectly sharpened her freckles specking across her soft face, the way her t-shirt hugged her, and especially the small muscle in her biceps that flex each time she took a drag.

“whatcha lookin’ at, mama?” she caught you, giving you a small smile as she passed you the Dutch.

“sorry—really wanted you to pass the blunt already.” your sarcasm lacing your sweet tone as you gave her fake look of dissatisfaction.

“oh! really!?” Ellie gawks, playing into fake offense.

you gave her a big smile you couldn’t falter. you brought the cigarillo up to your lips, inhaling and then exhaling before speaking, “i never said thank you.” you began.

“thank you for what?” she questions, the hand she used to hold the blunt to caress your face.

“for standing up for me, for being there, for literally—being here. you could’ve ran off and you didn’t.” your voice was sincere, nothing more.

“i would do it all again in a heartbeat, mama.”

your entire heart felt like a floodgate opening, allowing the sweetest taste of serotonin rush through.

“there isn’t a single thing i would do differently—change—now, i would give everything to not meet that jack-ass waiter.” Ellie says, her eyes not leaving yours as her words went straight into your heart.

you chuckle out “fuck him—that guy’s a friend of my ex. i didn’t even know he worked there.” you explained, reminiscing a bit.

Ellie was quick to stop any moment longer. “fuck them both, they mad to see you doing good.” she devotes, pulling you into her to kiss your forehead. the reassurance made your stomach flutter up.

“and with someone greater, too—in all ways.” you whisper out, leaning your head down slightly so your foreheads met.

you were in love with Ellie Williams, a feeling that you had never felt so strong.

“i wanna tell everyone you’re mine—show you off, make them all fuckin’ mad.”

before Elle could say anything else, you hear a drunk Dina cheer Listos para comer! (we ready to eat!) .

you all helped bring the food inside, setting the dinner table as chatter wisped between the four of you. the dinner table was scattered with all the delicious plates you all bonded over cooking.

it was like a cute family dining scene from a movie.

you all began to dig in, Dina looking over at you with a look that you knew exactly to return as you both silently waited at the table; your eyes moving from meeting Dina’s to Ellie and Jesse, watching them chew. you both waited with big grins as they both let slight moan and gasp from their savorful meals.

you and dina cant help the fit of laughter you break into which only confuse the both of them.

“don’t know what’s funny—you’re not gonna be laughing when im on one knee though.” Ellie was dead serious.

“ouh! i better be a bridesmaid!” Dina exclaims excitedly.

needless to say, you were beaming a deep rose through your cheeks, bringing your Soda Jarritos to try to cover your face.

the dinner bled into the night, completely being filled with overjoyed laughter and deep conversations—still, slightly making fun of their spanish pronunciations.

Ellie was sat right next to you.

“pass me a tortilla, amor.” you let it out without a thought, you caught yourself, slightly stumbling as you tried to excuse the little epithet that left your lips.

you saw the way a wide shiteating smile tugged her lips as she reached her arm aceoss the table to pass you the traditional tortilla warmer for you to make tacos out of the asada.

you thought Ellie pretended to not hear atleast, as you began to bite into your taco; Ellie leaned into your ear.

“we’re gonna make sure everybody knows you’re mine—as i’ve been yours since that night, mama.”

dolls-taglist: ̗̀➛ @snowy-vee @elliesleftflap @tphmnv @starrkissezz @we-loveebony @lavenderhazelsworld @marsworlddd @kissthedewdrops @elliewilliamsgirl3 @graviewaviee @gato-chino @bunnyrose01 @bready101 @elliesgf1244 @deliriousrn @cosmopolitanaut @yumimak @elliewilliamgfooc @evangelinexo @yondaimekazzy @moonyvs4 @tearouthearts @ride4els @luzthenarnian

a/n: i am indeed the mexican woman ellie is talking about that used to date joel 💖💓💞 matter of fact he in my bed rn !!! also i didnt add lyrics because i feel like the scene was too short ( might add them later still thinking)

in all seriousness though, thank you so much for the patience cus its basically EXAMS MONTH for my ass 😭 yall are amazing and @openupforme for keeping me going😽

[vivalabunbun]

Midnight Piano Interlude in D Minor, Op. 1

Summary: Growing pains don’t go away the moment you reach adulthood, instead it goes by a different name: Regret. 

Word Count: 17.9k ( I have a problem, no I cannot fix it)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Pianist!Reader, Aspiring musician!Reader, Slow burn, Slow fic (look at the word count), Heavy Angst, Smut(r18+), NSFW, MDNI, Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Childhood friends to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, a lot of memories from the past, Fluff, Second chance romance, TW: Character death (Alhaitham’s grandma), TW: Themes about regret and low self-confidence, Heavy adult themes, gifted kid burn-out, toxic family, unhappy childhood, unhealthy relationship dynamics, unhealthy coping mechanisms, Service top! Alhaitham, mutual pining? kinda, unrequited love? sorta, slightly obsessive!Alhaitham, Soft!Alhaitham, Alhaitham is not faultless his current views have been formed through trial and painful error. 

Authors Note: This is very experimental. I almost didn’t want to post it, but I just believe even the most stoic person isn’t without their past mistakes and regrets. Alhaitham doesn’t understand most forms of art... but he does value music. Enjoy. 

There was something off about this stanza, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. A cup of now room-temperature coffee was on your dining table, next to the sheets of music you were currently editing. Tapping the end of the pencil on your lip as you shut your eyelids. You played the notes on the paper in your head. 

It was an early Saturday afternoon, so you still had plenty of time before you had to go to your gig. It was a ritual on Saturdays that you would edit and write your compositions. A peaceful way to transition out of your lowly officer worker identity, and into the pianist you were. The thought of spreadsheets would be slowly replaced by lines of musical notes. 

At this moment there were no emails to be answered. No shallow dry small talk from nosy cubical neighbors. No long meetings in uncomfortable chairs about irrelevant projects.

Just the low hum of your refrigerator accompanying your experimental melodies. It was your time to embrace your aspirations that were contained to only two days every week, but it was worth all forty-eight hours.  

The fingers on your free hand tapped against the chipped lacquer table, envisioning the keys of your keyboard currently stationed in the crowded living room. Your fingers stilled as your eyes fluttered open. You found the error, crossing out the D major scale and changing it to D minor instead. Yes, D minor fits the somber tone of this piece much better. 

Excitement bubbled up inside you, that small tweak had finally solved that bothersome feeling that had been vexing you the whole week. Oh, you felt it, you were in the zone now, inspiration and motivation were just flowing undisrupted through you. Quickly gathering up the sheet music, you sauntered to your keyboard, sitting down on the cheap pull-out bench. 

There was no reason to worry about a noise complaint when it was in the middle of the day, but to follow social etiquette you made sure to lower the volume on the keyboard to just barely above mute. It was time to put everything together, you put your hands into position eager to press down on the smooth keys to finally hear the composition you had worked so hard on-

“Be careful with that! My unfinished models are in that box! Don’t just slam it down!” A voice boomed from the hall outside your door. 

The sudden disturbance cut off the flow within you, fingers hovering over the keys. Of course, asking for peace and quiet in this dust heap apartment complex was a luxury the residents couldn’t afford. You inhaled deeply as you straighten your back.

It’s fine, it sounds as if a new neighbor is just moving in. You were used to this, just continue forward. 

“Oi! Could you not just dump everything into the entranceway? How am I supposed to get through?!” You could hear the shuffling of boxes. 

“Most people would be grateful for the help. Especially, when the help-seeker is someone who has yet to pay five months' worth of rent.” A box was dropped onto the floor.

“I just told you to be careful! It’s fragile! And I was busy saving up to move, I’m sure me moving out is well worth the rent money.” 

“Brilliant rebuttal. Is this the same explanation you give the bank when they call inquiring about your debt, Kaveh?” 

“And this is why I cannot stand people like you!-”

Your fingers were pressing down with force on the keys, yet you couldn’t hear any melody over the theatrical bickering taking place in the hall. The inside of your cheek is currently being abused by the grating of your teeth. It appears that social etiquette is dead, killed by narrow-minded individual interests. 

The two voices continued to bounce off the wall, more accurately it was mostly one thunderous voice followed by a deep tone dripping with sarcasm. Your ears weren’t even processing the words being thrown around, their focus all on the impending tinnitus developing. 

You needed to bring a stop to this now, lest it develops into a regular performance. Your thighs pushed back the flimsy seat, lips deep in a frown. The flow was ruined. 

Unlocking the deadbolt that detained the door, you looked straight ahead as the rusting hinges sang their chaos, ready to bring a stop to this public disturbance. 

“Can you please keep your voices d-” Your sentence died at the tip of your tongue.

The sight in front of you stopped you dead between your doorway. The blond-haired man’s head snapped towards you, eyes slightly apologetic. However, his face wasn’t what you had set your sights on, no, it was the familiar face of the ashen-haired man. A face you haven’t seen for seven years, Alhaitham.

Those same disinterested teal eyes shifted their focus onto you, and it paralyzed every muscle.

The silence was deafening now, not a single inch was budged by anyone. Like a frozen snapshot in time. His gaze was heavy, it was suffocating so your eyes switched over to meet with rudy irises instead.

The blond man’s attention flickered back and forth between the two of you, taking note of how his companion’s eyes never left your frame. His lips pressed into an awkward line as his head slowly turned towards the boxes behind him, finally reading the room. 

“I’m going to start tidying up.” The blond didn’t perceive the desperation sent his way by you as his figure disappeared behind a closed door.    

Now it was just you and Alhaitham. Finally reunited after seven long years apart in a decrepit hallway. The gurgling of the aging pipes and shuffling of feet from floors above  accompanied the scene. Your body was still frozen in the midst of emerging from your apartment, and his tall figure was still stationed right across the narrow hall. 

What were the last words you said to him that day many years ago again?

“I hate you, Alhaitham. I hate you for ruining my life.” 

A hand hidden behind your back clenched into a fist as you recalled that embarrassing memory. Sharp words directed toward a younger version of the man in front of you. Words birthed from irrationality and wounded pride.

Now your brain had once again latched on to this core memory, you were certainly going to be kicking your blankets tonight. What a mortifying souvenir of the past. 

The past anger and frustrations were all but lingering smoke in your hair, your heart couldn’t recall the heat of how they burned the bridge down. They say time heals, and it's true.

The years apart had gradually soothed over the tender wounds on your ego. With the pain subsided your brain was clear enough to review the moments that lead to that outburst, and it made you die internally. 

Should you just apologize right now? To alleviate the creeping guilt traveling up your shoulder, and so your poor blanket won’t be kicked as hard tonight. Can a small apology really travel across the full length of the seven-year-wide rift that had formed? Your lips stayed firmly shut, there was your answer. 

Alhaitham took a step towards you, instinctively your body shuffled three more steps away, widening the berth between your bodies. His movement paused, teal eyes peering down at you as you looked at the space behind his head. No words were said. 

This awkward scene was very reminiscent of your introduction to the ashen-haired man many years ago. 

–

Your parents, esteemed researchers working for a renowned corporation, had moved into a new neighborhood. The house was much larger than your old home, large enough to house a grand piano in the living room. 

“It’s about time you start learning the piano.” Were the orders your parents had given you, sitting your six-year-old self at the intimidating instrument. 

On the same day you were introduced to your new duty, you were also introduced to the neighbor’s kid. The only other kid on the block filled with prominent academic figures from the nation’s top university. A grey-haired boy was standing by the side of the older lady, while you clung to your father’s slacks. The boy’s bored teal-eyed stare made you advert your eyes to your pretty shoes. 

“This is Alhaitham, he is the same age as you. Say hello.” The stern hands of your father broke your grasp on his slacks and pushed you towards the boy named ‘Alhaitham’. 

“Alhaitham, won’t you greet our new neighbor?” The older woman’s wrinkled but kind eyes motioned to your nervous frame. 

“Hello.” Greeted a flat voice. 

Your tiny hand found its way back to your father’s slacks, grip wrinkling it even more. You were physically unable to utter a single noise. After what felt like an eternity of staring at your shiny sneakers, your father’s hand tug you away. The adults were now having a small conversation, mostly your parents apologizing for your shyness and the older professor laughing the matter off. 

“There is no need to apologize, children are fickle sometimes. But I hope that she and Alhaitham will get along. You are always welcome to visit, little one.” Her eyes peered at your restless form. You liked her eyes, they were warm.

That night you sat through a long lecture from your parents about your rudeness toward the grandma. All you could do was bow your head, back perfectly straight on the plush new sofa. You were sent to bed with no dinner that night, told to think about how your actions would reflect upon your parents. 

–

The invasive memory triggered by this sudden reunion left a bitter taste on your tongue. The taste that you’ve purposefully been fleeing from all these years. Now with his presence so burdensome, it was dragging your thoughts down deeper. You needed to put a stop to this before your head disappears under the water. 

So just like all those years ago, you disappeared from teal eyes. Not uttering a single greeting as the resounding click of your door was heard. 

Exiting the automated glass doors, you could finally relax your shoulders. The sun was hanging in the sky this Wednesday evening, you were grateful that you were actually able to clock off work on time.

Your eyes scanned the unfamiliar buildings that decorated the landscape, all large and reaching towards the sky, light bouncing off polished windows. You were free to explore. 

Your job required you to attend a meeting about some closing of a deal between the two companies. Thus, the reason why you were currently in the midst of the upscale business district of Sumeru City. Opposing the rundown sector you called home, the sidewalks here were leveled and free of fissures. Many of the trendy shops that lined the streets beckoned you closer to their displays. 

With one glance over the price tags attached to the chic items your body instantly turned away. Of course, the prices in the yuppie part of the city would be out of your budget. 

Walking further down the road, you let yourself enjoy the warm breeze of Sumeru against your stuffy blouse and pencil skirt. Your skin has finally thawed out after being in that overly air-conditioned conference room. Turning onto a quieter side street you walked past the tantalizing smells wafting from the small cafes. 

The gig from last Saturday compensated you quite handsomely. Perhaps you could splurge a little, a reward for yourself securing a returning performance later this month. 

One particular cafe caught your interest, it was a combination of a bookstore and a coffee shop. The blackboard sign placed outside listed the daily specialties, and for once the prices of the drinks weren’t outrageous.

A small bell chimed above your head, welcoming you inside. After placing your order, you decided to peruse through the selection of novels the shop had on display. 

Most of the titles were of the new best sellers or latest academic papers. Your fingers brushed across the smooth covers, observing the different arts and fonts. It seems that you’ve wonder quite a bit down the rows, somehow ending up in a section filled with the simple cover illustrations of children’s books. You were far too old to enjoy such books now. 

Just as you turned on your heel to head back up the aisle, a brilliant verdant cover catches your eye. ‘Oh, so it’s still in print’, you thought. The Giving Tree, the title of the first book you ever learned to read. 

–

“Alhaitham is the same age as you, yet he’s reading scientific journals. You should learn from him.” Your mother’s eyes examined your round eyes looking back up at hers. 

Your small frame deflated even smaller, the bright aura that had been radiating off of you dissipated like morning dew under the harsh sun.

Just earlier you had your first piano lesson, the piano teacher was so excited to tell your parents how much potential you had, and how filled with talent you were. Their words made you perk up on the bench, the instrument no longer felt as frightening. 

The praise had left you in a good mood, so much so that you agreed to accompany your mother to the neighbor’s house. A book clutched in the hand that wasn’t held in your mother’s clammy grasp. You weren’t sure if you were in a good mood anymore.

The kind grandma led you to a small library where her grandson was, Alhaitham was curled up on the rug with a thick journal in his small hands. The thin children’s book in your hand paled in comparison. 

“Now, now. Alhaitham is just very passionate about reading. Your daughter is at the normal age where children begin reading, perhaps she’ll also gain a fondness if they read together. I think they’ll have fun together.” The kind woman gestured for you into the room. 

Your mother releases your hand, a cold look ushered you toward the empty spot next to the boy. Settling down on the other side of the rug, you glanced up quickly. She seemed satisfied. 

The grandma soon led your mother to another part of the house, continuing their conversation. You turned toward the boy next to you, he was too focused on the text in front of him to bother greeting you. 

Spirits a bit dejected, you opened the cover to your own thin book. It was your father that placed the book in your hands, telling you to start reading. As your eyes glossed over the figures that took up only a fraction of the page, you came across the obvious hurdle.

You don’t know how to read. No one had ever sat you on their lap and gone through this book with you, or any book really. 

The illustrations and script on the page taunted you, calling you to decypher their meanings and symbols. The pages were quickly flipped through until you hit the back cover, then flipped through once more until you were back to the front.

A foolish attempt for a miracle, that if you flipped through the book fast enough, somehow those scribbles on the pages will make sense. 

“Are you even reading?” Spoke a slightly irritated voice.

Oh, your loud turning must have distracted the boy from his reading. The flipping stopped, as you glanced at him seeing the disinterested eyes staring back, you looked away. The embarrassment this time compelled your mouth to speak. 

“N-no… I don’t know how…” Cheeks burned from shame, you could already feel that familiar sting in your eyes. Oh no, if you cried then mom might frown again. 

A sigh resounded beside you, Alhaitham shifted his body out of his comfortable position against his pillow. Oh no, is he getting up to tell mom about the dark secret you just spilled to him? You didn’t get him to promise he won’t tell, will he get you in trouble? 

“Give it here.” An expecting hand reached out, palms open. 

You blinked at the hand slowly, did he want the book in exchange for not telling? Obediently, you placed the small book into his hold. His teal eyes glance over the title quickly, before he lays the book open in the space between your two bodies. Your head tilted in confusion at his actions. But as soon as his tranquil voice read the word out loud, that confusion stopped. 

“Mmm… I don’t like the boy.” You crossed your arms in front of your small body, round cheeks pushed out in a pout.

Alhaitham just finished reading the story to you, he ran his small finger along with each word he spoke so you could follow along as well. His eyes connected with yours inquisitively, waiting for you to continue. 

“The nice tree gave him so much, and he never said ‘thank you’. And he left the tree alone for so long, the tree must have been so sad. He’s mean, a big meanie and… and…”

“Ungrateful.” Alhaitham finished your sentence. 

“Un-un..grateful?” You titled your head again, the unfamiliar word felt weird on your tongue. 

“Ungrateful. U-n-g-r-a-t-e-f-u-l. It means having no feelings of thanks, you can also say he’s selfish.” The boy answered your question before you could even ask it. 

You pressed a finger against your lips, turning the newly learned vocabulary in your head. Yeah, those words fit the boy in the story very well. Ungrateful and selfish. You looked back at the boy sitting next to you, a smile stretched your chubby cheeks. The grandma was right, reading with him was fun. 

“You’re really smart.” You beamed at him. 

“That means nothing to me.” He huffed, turning his face away. 

You could spy with your little eyes the red tint on the tips of his ears that peeked out from his ash-colored hair. 

“Hehe, and you’re funny too.” For the first time in a while, you giggled.

–

What a bittersweet memory, like the fragrance of the different brews traveling throughout the small shop. Yet, the nostalgia brought a small curl to your lips. You turned away from the book, only to flinch at what your eyes saw next. 

The boy from your memories is now a man standing adjacently. You must’ve been too lost in thought to notice his towering stature. 

After that tense reunion in the hallway, thankfully Alhaitham didn’t decide to knock on your door. Not that you would’ve answered anyways. He probably had already predicted your actions, and thus saved himself the time. 

He was dressed in a suit and but the tie was loose around his neck, he must’ve just gotten off of work. The path back to the coffee bar was just slightly blocked by his wide frame, you had to get past him. 

Teal-orange eyes converged with your stare, ah it’s too late to try and sneak past now. Alhaitham acknowledges your presence with a slight nod of his head, expression blank and unreadable. Once again you didn’t say a single greeting.

As if a merciful archon had been watching this pathetic interaction, an opportunity for escape was granted in the form of the barista calling out your name. 

“Excuse me.” Was all you could muster, hastily striding past him, body pressed against the selves so as to not brush against him. 

Before you the bell at the front chimed again to signal your departure, you made sure to leave some extra mora, more than the necessary amount. Done in silent gratitude towards the unsung hero of a barista. 

It was now the last Saturday of the month, meaning it was time for your return performance. In your bathroom mirror, you smoothed out any stray hairs, straightening out your black performance garb.

A sacred ritual to slow the beating of your jumping heart. It’s a bit silly to admit, but no matter how many times you’ve performed, your nerves always went haywire. A terrible habit that made its way to adulthood. 

The tavern you were performing at was quite a popular joint among the locals of Sumeru City. The nice wooden and homey interior gave many city dwellers their taste of nature in a progressing world. A grand piano was tucked away in a clear corner of the establishment, a ring of tables enclosed the area into a stage of sorts. 

Pushing through the intricately carved doors, you entered Lambad’s Tavern eyes surveying the audience for this Saturday night. There were some tables still empty, awaiting the future stream of guests. Chatter quietly reverberated through the serene scene for now.

The atmosphere can get a bit rowdy as more and more alcohol ran through the systems of patrons. In a way, it was perfect for you, a perfect stepping stone in your slow climb. 

Checking in with the manager at the front, you got the thumbs up to start setting up for your show. An agreement had been reached earlier this month that you would be playing the piano for three hours, three hours of having the privilege to play on a grand piano again. Not on the electronic imitation of your keyboard. Eager hands glided their soft touch along the smooth keys. 

Yes, nothing can truly capture the beauty of the grand piano’s voice, not even the CDs you set up on a table nearby. Recordings with a mixed tracklist of classical pieces and original compositions, just like your setlist for tonight. 

Lifting up the fallboard, you set the sheets against the music stand. Not that you needed them. Every note, every rest, and every change in tempo memorized in your fingers. Taking a deep breath, your eyes did one final scan around the room. Most tables were too emersed in their own conversations to take note of you. 

Rubbing your fingers together to grind out the tremble of your nerves before you shut your eyes. In the darkness quiet darkness of your mind, your fingers moved into their positions over the keys. Erik Satie’s Je te veux resonated with the muddled conversations of the audience, adding to the serene air. 

You’ve always closed your eyes when performing, a trait that has embedded itself from the start of your music career. The darkness of your mind offered a reprieve from the critical eyes of judges and parents during recitals and competitions.

You first stepped into this safe haven around the time of your first recital at the age of eight. 

–

It’s been a few months since you first began your piano lessons, and your teacher was eager to announce your first recital. They had a sparkle in their eyes, keen to show off their most talented disciple. 

They had discovered an unpolished diamond among the mediocre ruff, a young naturally blessed child. Your lips were kept sealed about the long hours your parents forced you to sit in front of the piano after each weekly lesson. 

Before you only ever played under the watchful gaze of either your parents or teacher, not an audience of strangers. To say you were nervous would be an understatement, you were terrified. 

“I can’t do it.” You retracted your hands from the piano once again, as if the keys were scorching you. 

“You said you wanted to play the piano for me.” The young boy beside you huffed out, annoyed at your actions. You had repeated these steps five times now. 

“I know! But I’m… scared…” Your posture deflated. 

“If you can’t play in front of one person, how can you play for a crowd?” Alhaitham’s disinterested eyes crept back to the book he had placed beside him, you had dragged him away from his reading for this. 

“I don’t know…” A frown pulled at your face, eyes feeling the incoming burn. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. 

There was a tense moment of nothingness between the two of you. The boy quietly observed the paper propped up against the music stand. 

“Do you know how to play this piece?” His flat voice broke the suspense. 

“Yes I do! I’ve been practicing this every day, I can even do it with my eyes closed.” You huffed in disbelief at his accusation. 

“Then do that. Just play with your eyes closed.” He retorted as if it was the most obvious statement in the world. 

Which in truth, it was the most obvious statement in the world. You’ve been practicing Vom fremden Ländern und Menschen from Kinderszenen since the beginning of the month every day for six hours a day. The rhythm and keys were ingrained into your fingers by the second week. 

The solution was so plain and simple, why didn’t you think of it? Your parents were right, you are always a few steps behind the brilliant boy. 

An embarrassed flush covered your round cheeks. Suddenly his stare was heavy, heavier than the ones from your parents and teacher. The muscles in your finger felt tense. Your young mind could tell that if this continued then the tune embedded in your hands wouldn’t come out at all. 

“Can you not look?” A quiet plead. 

“I thought you wanted me to watch.” A grey brow was raised. 

“I know… But…” Around him, you couldn’t seem to finish your sentences. 

“Fine.” Deciding that prying further would be a wasted effort, Alhaitham turned his short body around on the bench so that his back faced the piano instead. Cracking open his thick book back to the page he had left off on. 

“I don’t need to look at you to hear you play anyways.” The young boy’s eyes returned back to their place among the text. 

Sitting back up straight again, shoulder back and hands into position. You took a deep breath and entered the darkness behind your eyelids. This time your fingers guided you through the moment, and the piano sang out its melodies. 

–

Coincidentally, Vom fremden Ländern und Menschen from Kinderszenen just so happened to be ending right now as the memory finished its course. You had transitioned into the piece some time ago, finishing five out of the many on your three-hour setlist. It was right about time for a small break. 

As your eyelids lifted a few soft claps reached your ears, from the growing chatter it seems that more customers had funneled into the tavern. 

The manager of the tavern was a very generous man, so much so that he offers you a complimentary drink you could claim during each of your breaks. You would be a fool to turn down such an offer, but you reminded yourself that you need to maintain a certain level of sobriety. For the sake of your performance. 

The sweet wine felt divine running down your parched throat. The alcohol did wonders in mellowing out your racing thoughts as you returned back to your place at the piano. Just like before, you did a small survey of your surroundings. Big mistake, for your mind kicked into overdrive when locking gazes with teal eyes.  

‘Speak of the devil, and he doth appear’. 

A superstition you should really be more mindful of. Shifting your body towards the piano, you ended the impromptu staring contest. Ah, what song were you supposed to play now? Thoughts scrambled as you can still feel the heaviness of Alhaitham’s gaze on your back. ‘Just play’ you internally scolded.

Letting your fingers take over the piano, retreating back into the comforting blackness. 

“Who was that?” Kaveh creaked open the door to his new apartment, inquiring his now former roommate about the scene that unraveled moments before. 

Alhaitham observed the heavy metal frame that closed you off from him once more. This was certainly an unexpected surprise. It’s been seven years since he last hear your voice. Seven years since you marched forth on a path carved by your own grit and resoluteness. 

Many things have changed these seven years.

Who are you?

Eyes still following the cracks of the paint running up your door, the ashen-haired man’s mind recounted a scene from long ago. 

–

It’s been a few months since you first moved into this neighborhood, taking Alhaitham’s title of ‘only kid on the block’ away. During your first introduction, you wouldn’t even greet him constantly tugging on your father’s pant leg and staring at your feet. 

Now you wouldn’t stop greeting him. After lunch, almost like clockwork, there would be a knock at his front door. Disrupting his precious reading time. You’d be there on the other side with a new book for him to read to you, or you’d bounce on the heels of your feet inviting him to hear your piano. 

Today, it was the latter. Alhaitham had his back facing the piano, the position that made you the most comfortable. A book was open in his lap, but his mind was busy pondering a mystery to pay attention to it or to the tune you were playing. Grandma said it wasn’t good to hold in questions, lest they consume the curious mind. Best to get answers from the source of the mystery. 

“Why do you seek me out?” His flat voice interfered with the sharp notes.

“Huh?” You turned to him perplexed, fingers now hovering over the keys.

“Are we friends?” He asked directly, it’s good to be straightforward. 

“Of course we’re friends! Even if you’re a bookworm, you’re still a precious friend of mine.” Chest puffed up at your bold declaration. 

“If I am a bookworm, it’s only appropriate to call you an earworm.”

“E-earworm? There are worms that live in the ear??” 

“No, it’s just a figure of speech. Earworm refers to a tone or melody that repeats constantly in the mind.” 

“Ooh. Earworm…” You pondered the term for a bit before another splitting smile spread across your face. 

“Yes! You’re a bookworm and I’m an earworm.” A finger was directed at him then back at yourself, giggling. 

Strangely, the young boy felt a tickle at the back of his throat, as if your laughter was contagious like a cold. He decided to hold it back in favor of observing your expression for a bit longer. 

“Oh!” You jumped up from the bench, reaching into the shiny pencil case you kept close to the piano. 

Pulling out a bold black marker you uncapped the tool before climbing onto the bench, the extra height allowing you to maneuver the top half of your body into the body of the piano. 

Now it was his turn to be bewildered, quickly snapping his eyes towards the entrance of the living room, watching out for signs of your parents. Soon you reemerged from the instrument, capping the marker with a proud look in your eyes. 

“There, now there’s solid proof of our friendship.”  

Alhaitham peers into the piano, observing the words clumsily written along the wooden shell:

Property of Bookworm and Earworm

“Why am I before you? It’s your piano isn’t it?” 

“Well ‘B’ comes before ‘E’.” You puffed out your cheek at his lackluster response to your heartfelt gesture. 

For the first time ever in front of you, Alhaitham let an obvious smile appear on his face. 

–

What a bittersweet term. Friends. Yes, the two of you were once friends long ago. Close friends who morphed into strangers. The catalyst for this change? With each new stage of life, branching paths will appear, the parting of ways is just a natural phenomenon. 

He is Alhaitham and you are you. Separate individuals with separate lives on separate paths. 

“Just someone I used to know.” Came his candid answer. 

“Right.” Kaveh rolled his eyes, clearly displeased at how the ashen-haired man won’t give his question an actual response. 

Alhaitham removed his eyes from your door, picking the cardboard box back off the tiled hallway. Kaveh didn’t need to know the specifics, the precious details shall forever make their home in a safe corner of his mind. 

Alhaitham exited the ornate doors of the office building. Currently, it was the closing quarter, meaning the office has been more bothersome than usual. Even with his perfected front of acting busy, more and more troublesome characters have been strolling into his office. It’s irrelevant now, for the secretary is now off the clock. 

The sun was still in the sky, perfect weather to grab a bit to eat from a local coffee shop. It’s been a week since he last picked up a new book as well, there was one place that came to mind that would allow the man to kill two birds with one stone. Long legs walked with swift strides towards his destination. 

Even will his earphones in, Alhaitham could still hear the hustle and bustle of the crowded streets. In Sumeru City this was expected, construction, traffic, and pedestrians, everything thing muddled together in noisy inference with his thoughts. He turns up the volume. 

Opening the door to the cafe, the bell sounded his arrival. The usual barista was there at the counter. With a quick glance up the barista instinctively placed his order, a testament to just how often the ashen-haired man frequents this place. Good, this saves him the trouble. 

Without pausing his music, Alhaitham began pursuing the nonfiction section of the small shop. There were a few new scientific journals that have been published, maybe he’ll give them a read. 

Although his ears were currently occupied, that doesn’t mean his other senses were dulled. He could feel the weight of someone’s gaze upon his back. Usually, the man would simply brush such occurrences off. But there was this small nag coming from a corner of his mind. This could be a result of a brain being bored by a day’s worth of paperwork. He’ll indulge his curiosity. 

Returning the weight of the gaze back to the mysterious source he felt his jaw clench just a bit. There you were again, staring at him with your lips pressed together tensely. Your wide eyes were very reminiscent of a spooked songbird. Everything about your body language read startled and for flight. 

This time, Alhaitham doesn’t encroach, he simply nodded his head in a small greeting. It seems even this small action sparked you to flee. You mouthed something before quickly strolling past him. 

Shamelessly, his teal eyes followed your path as you paid for your coffee and disappeared out of sight from the shop windows. Yes, his statement that these seven years have brought about much change was correct. It wasn’t like this before.

–

“Alhaitham, why are you reading here?” His grandma inquired about the reason behind her grandson situating himself at the window nook instead of inside the library. 

“I just wanted to enjoy the sunlight.” Came his crafted response. 

From this small nook, the window gave a clear view of the front steps and the path that led to the house just across the street. The older woman took note of this, kind eyes giving the young boy a knowing look and smile. You had begun attending the local school.

Meanwhile, Alhaitham adamantly wanted to stay home and self-study instead. Stating that all the material the school covered he already knew. The old lady didn’t raise any objections to her grandson’s decision. 

“If you go over to her house remember to be polite, and inform me before you do.” A wrinkled hand tussled through his soft ashen locks. 

“There’s no need. I’m just sitting here to read.” He leaned into his grandma’s touch. 

“Of course, of course. Then I shall make use of this afternoon to review some material. Remember what I said.” 

“Yes, grandma.” Came his reply. 

With that, Alhaitham was left to his own thoughts by the window. He didn’t really know why he felt the pull to sit by the window. Was it to get a glimpse of you? The neighbor’s daughter? 

You and he were the only two kids on the block, so it wasn’t surprising you would often seek out his company. A friendship formed by virtue of close proximity. However, now you were attending classes filled with other kids your age. His company would sooner or later fade into obscurity. 

Alhaitham has always been very attuned to the situation around him, displaying a level of maturity and insight way beyond his years. Perhaps he still retains some semblance of that childish essence. Demonstrated by his current position, the book in his lap only held half of his attention, the other wondering out the clear glass. 

What is he hoping for realistically? Others can provide you much livelier company than he ever could, and yet he still-

The boy puts down the book, short legs pattering across the wooden floor swiftly carrying his body to the door. Small hands turned the cold brass before he channeled all his strength into prying the wooden mass from the frame.

Revealing your bewildered face, hand frozen in its position ready to knock on the now open door. Once your eyes met, it wasn’t long before a smile replaced your expression. 

“Hi, Haitham! Wanna hear me play today?” 

–

Yes, that was how things used to be. Even as your social circle grew, even as new families moved in, you’d still appear back in front of him. Beaming that smile he lost the privilege to see. Like a songbird that returned every day to sing in front of his window as the solitary child read.

 Alhaitham’s eyes found themselves locked once more on a door, the one you had rushed out of not so long ago. There was a weight pulling down on the corners of his mouth. He entered Sumeru’s education system during high school. Missing the crucial formative years previously where cliques and social labels were formed, he stood alone as a loner. 

But You always rushed towards him through crowded halls and rooms. Breaking away amidst your social circle from orchestra and band. Just to tap him on the shoulder and eat lunch together in the sanctuary of a private practice room that housed the school’s piano.

These repetitive memories plaguing him brought a bitter taste to his coffee. Perhaps it was the dreadful combination of sweet memory and awareness of the current state of affairs. 

Finally, the end of the month has come. Meaning things at work have sorted themselves out, at least for another three months. In lieu of attending an actual company-sponsored dinner, Alhaitham decides to get a drink at the local tavern.

Company dinners were noisy, filled with black ties and white lies. Too troublesome. However, recently his mind has been filling the silence of his house with redundant thoughts. 

A drink from time to time is a good way to destress and quell the mind, Alhaitham reasons as he enters the establishment. Lambad’s Tavern was a local joint that provides a small solace from the rambunctious city streets. A place the man likes to visit on occasion, usually when an invitation was extended. 

From the moment he entered through the doors, he could hear a piano ending its cords. It seems that there was live music tonight. Usually, it was nice to have background music accompany the chatter of the other patrons. But why a piano of all choices tonight? Alhaitham takes a deep breath before letting out a small sigh, it’s as if a ghost of the past is haunting him. 

Placing an order for a bottle of wine to be delivered to a secluded area, Alhaitham makes his way to the usual table. His body maneuvered through the sea of flushed face patrons, and the sight of the grand piano came into view.

The bench by the instrument was empty, perhaps his mind really is just conjuring up a ghost. Regardless, once the wine comes these thoughts will settle. 

“Your wine.” The alcohol was set down. 

“Thank you.” Alhaitham swirls the glass a bit before taking a sip. 

 His bored eyes began to wander once more, looking for anything to bide the time with, unsurprisingly they were beckoned towards the piano. Only this, time it was no longer empty. No, this time it was no ghost invented by a bored mind, it was you. He stiffly swallowed down the wine. 

He wasn’t subtle nor careful with how obviously he was staring, thinking too occupied by astonishment. This must have tipped you off, as once again your wide-eyed gaze connected with his heavy one. You made that tense face again. You broke away, tightly shutting your eyes before your fingers hit the keys, making the piano sing. 

‘Oh, so you still closed your eyes when you played’. Alhaitham found a strange satisfaction in this fact as if he found comfort in the one constant he still knew about you. Arms and fingers moved fluidly, a sight he used to not be able to see out of respect for you. 

–

Your parents were busy with their research, and his grandmother had her hands full with academic responsibilities. It was only Alhaitham who had the time, a resource only abundant in youth, to attend your recitals and concerts.

As the crowd and the judges bored holes into your figure up on stage, the young man kept his eyes peeled on the book in front of him. 

The young man didn’t mind attending these events, the audience was mostly silent save for the occasional applause. After so many years and lunches spent by your side at the piano, his ears have gotten used to the melodic accompaniment to his reading.

The final chords of your performance reverberated throughout the air, followed by the rolling clapping of hands.

He lifted his attention up to the stage. Although it’s ironic how the only time you wanted him to watch your performance was at the end, he’ll respect your wishes. From the brightly lit stage, you were finishing your bow, and as your head rises your eyes connected with his. A beaming smile was directed at him.

Was it you or the stage lights that stung his eyes? 

“How’d you think I did, Haitham?” Was the first thing out of your lips after rejoining him. 

The concert hall had emptied out some time ago, and Alhaitham had been waiting by the backstage door to walk home with you. You held a thick folder against the front of your formal black gown, a bounce in your ballet flat steps. Alhaitham pretended to contemplate his answer. 

“I’m not well versed in acoustics nor how to judge music, so I don’t see how my opinion would matter.”  Came his flat reply.  

“Haitham, you listened to me play for years. How have you not learned a thing?” You pouted, just like how he predicted. 

The young man gave you a simple shrug. Of course, he found your performance exceptional, he was there for the hours of practice you put in. 

“Whatever, now that it’s over. I can start looking at the piece the conductor wanted me to accompany for the school’s orchestra. Ahh, I only have three weeks to practice.” You made a face as you dug through the thick folder as the two of you continued to walk. 

He only hummed in response, shifting his focus back to his book. It was the sweet Sumeru Spring of your third year of high school, the perfect for a serene walk home.

Over the top of the pages, his teal eyes could see your lips press into a crooked line, desperately trying to suppress your snickers as you sightread the notes on the sheet. 

“Is that a piece by Debussy?” 

“Huh? How’d ya know, Haitham?” 

You were easy to read. After knowing you for over a decade now, you were like an open book to him. The journal hides his small smile from your sight. 

–

The memory reminded him to advert his eyes, focusing back on the glass of wine in front of him. He came here for a drink, he should follow through with his plan. The wine quickly vanished as Alhaitham signed for another. It took an impressive amount of willpower for his eyes to not wander back, he won’t let them. 

Your small performance had come to an end, sounded by the closing of the fallboard and how the bench dragged against the floor. He knew you were bowing to show thanks to the audience, yet he still refused to look. From your earlier actions, it was blatant that you despised his presence.

So even as your figure passed by his table, Alhaitham refused to allow you into his line of sight.

It’s been an hour since you left the establishment in a rush, and Alhaitham had run up quite the tab now, best to call it a night. Tossing some mora onto the table, the ashen-haired man stands up ready to begin the taxis ride back. 

The effects of the alcohol must have made his eyes wander back to the piano, a fruitless attempt to watch one last glimpse. And a glimpse they found, in the form of a CD you had carelessly left behind. 

You had abandoned it, thus it was now free for the taking.

It was unlike the stoic man to order rounds after rounds of wine, but he needed something to busy himself with. Just as how you were busy with the piano, he needed the alcohol to quell undesirable impulses. However, as his unsteady steps made it up the front porch, he was chastising himself for that decision. A hangover was guaranteed in the morning.

Roughly slamming the door shut behind him, Alhaitham entered the asylum of his home. The newfound stillness of the house was usually a luxury the ashen-haired man indulged in. However, at the moment it was a tribulation, for his noisy thoughts filled the silence. Its volume only exacerbated by the alcohol in his system. 

When he was younger, Alhaitham naively thought the knowledge gained from academic journals was equivalent to experience. After all, he had just read about another person’s experiences, he could pinpoint their flaws and learn from their mistakes so as to not repeat them. 

Just like the knowledge obtained from his books, he assumed that you too shall always remain in his possession, you shall always stay by his side. Of course, only a naive teenager, no, only a naive child would think this way. 

Did you know that the downfall of many great kings, heroes, and gods was their hubris? Excess self-confidence blinds their vision. Excess confidence only a naive child would have, believing he could analyze everything. 

Oh, how life works in mysterious ways, finding lessons to humble such egos. Alhaitham, against his will, reminisces about the event that taught him a valuable lesson in the noisy silence of his house. 

–

“Haitham, I can’t believe they did it.” You were curled up on the couch of his grandmother’s home, tears streaming down your face. 

“They sold my piano, Haitham. They sold it because they wanted me to get over this ‘hobby’. Hypocrites, as if they weren’t the ones who forced me to practice hours a day since I was a kid.” 

Alhaitham said nothing, silently holding the tissue box out to you. The pair of you had just returned from school just a few hours earlier, bidding goodbye before returning to your respective houses. However, just an hour ago his quiet reading was disrupted by frantic pounding on the front door. He had opened it to your tear-stained face. 

“How could they instill in me a passion for all my life, but when I want to continue with it as a career, they do their damnedest to snuff it out?” You were furiously wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. 

Oh, so that’s what happened. Alhaitham had already seen this coming, knowing how your parents were, it was predictable. They had valid reasons for not wanting their daughter to pursue such a career path.

You still had stage fright, constantly telling him to not look at you when you played. How would you make a living like this? He analyzed the statistics and figures before he comes to his own conclusion. 

There was no reason that you couldn’t balance a stable career with your passion for piano. In Sumeru, they had one of the most progressive work cultures of all of Teyvat. There were generous amounts of paid time off, sick days, and reasonable hours. You had more than enough time for music.

He decides to share his conclusion with you. 

“Music should stay a hobby. Even graduates from the most prestigious music universities aren’t guaranteed a career. To be frank, it’s better if you pursue a degree that leads to a steadfast position. Of course, be firm in your boundaries so that you can have the time for piano.” 

The room fell silent, your wide eyes stared into his calm teal ones. A heavy hush hung in the air as the grandfather clock continued to tick away, until it rang, signaling the change in the air. After the last resonance of its chime faded, you let out a laugh, but there was no joy in your voice. 

“Of course… Why did I think you’d be different? This is why they love you.” Your tone was dry as your shoulders shook, eyes now trained on the floor. 

“Look at Alhaitham, what a level-headed guy he is, you should learn from him. Look at his grades, why can’t you be top of the class? He’s so talented and good at everything, what can you do? Why can’t you be more like Alhaitham?” You spat out his name as if it was poisonous. 

“Comparison is the thief of joy, you shouldn’t-” Alhaitham needed to de-escalate this crescendo.

“If only you were born their son… Then I wouldn’t have suffered.” More tears fell from your eyes as you stumbled off the couch. 

“I hate you, Alhaitham. I hate you for ruining my life.” 

Alhaitham once believed that words, which have no physical form, couldn’t hurt him. The stab in his chest from an unseen force dismissed that notion.

Your burning eyes reconnected with his gaze. He knew that look, he’s seen it many times. Jealousy, anger, and hatred. They were familiar emotions that others cast his way, yet he found himself taken aback. You’ve never looked at him like this before… Have you? 

Before he could utter another word, you stormed off. All the young man could do was watch the back of your figure as it disappeared from sight. 

–

There was a firm frown now on Alhaitham’s lips and a furrow between his brows. He wanted this horrible play to end, for his brain to stop showing him events that have already passed. It’s always one’s own mind that can show the most cruelty to itself. 

–

It’s been a month since you’ve last spoken to him. Taking long about ways to school so as to avoid crossing paths with him, your lunches were spent locked in private practice rooms.

Young Alhaitham had a whole month to analyze and reanalyze at which moment everything fell apart. After much deliberation, he concluded that he made a miscalculation. He overstepped his boundaries. 

In the end, it was your life, you should be the one to decide how you will live it. His unsolicited suggestion was wholly unnecessary. He knew an apology was needed.

However, he could read from your actions that you weren’t ready to talk to him just yet. It wouldn’t be wise to approach you, lest you look at him again with those eyes. That’s fine, he can wait until you came to him. Alhaitham bided his time with more books. Was reading without music always this lonely? 

It was the day of your graduation. From within the sea of celebratory gowns and cheering students, teal eyes honed in on your figure. You were intentionally avoiding his gaze, instead going to congratulate and talk to fellow musicians and classmates. His hand balled up into a fist before he unclenched it. It’s fine, you need more time, and he’ll respect that.

It’s the least he could do. Either way, the two of you had the whole Summer to make up before university started. 

Another miscalculation on his part. 

Alhaitham recalls the panicked ringing of his doorbell, but instead of you, the door opened to reveal your parents. You were gone. Your phone was left behind, important documents missing from filing cabinets, and a bag full of belongings gone. You’ve vanished, the only explanation they got was a note: 

“Don’t Bother Me”. 

You’ve already become a legal adult, how could the Matra have any justification to drag you back? 

That whole hellish Sumeru Summer Alhaitham read at the nook located by the front door. For that whole Summer, the young man answered any number that flashed on his screen. He knew that you had limited money, after your pitiful savings dried up you were bound to return. If not to your house, then at least to this haven.

Your voice was never on the other side. 

Laughably, it took the prodigy Alhaitham an entire Summer to finally come to terms with the facts of the matter. The songbird had left its tarnished cage, and it will never return. He started university without you by his side.

–

Grey lashes fluttered open as the play finally ends. Memories that once looped like a broken record in his mind. With time this memory became a softer hum to his thoughts. An earworm that burrowed deep within so as to remind him of his past shortcomings. 

Yes, his past mistakes made him aware of his limited human vision. That he did in fact not know everything. The series of errors that strayed you away from him. Humans weren’t books, they’re not as easy to decipher as scripts on a page. The growing pains of maturing. A lesson he has learned well.  

Once was an accident, twice is a coincidence, and the third time… a chance. Alhaitham doesn’t believe in gods or fate, but he does believe in opportunity.

Teal eyes made their way to the CD left on top of a polished ivory top. This time, he shall turn around and chase after the ghost, to return to her what was rightfully hers. 

If these occurrences were bound to happen more often, then it’s best for you to catch up with the seven-year backlog of information. Of course, instead of consulting the primary source for the much-needed answers, you turned to a secondary source instead. You are nothing, if not a coward.

Hence why on this warm Thursday night you were out at the local bar, wallet getting emptied by the blond slumped next to you. 

“Ugh, that man was a tyrant. Leaving books everywhere, letting dust just pile up, and every other sentence had to be a snide remark.” Kaveh finishes another glass, another cry from your wallet. 

You were still nursing your second glass while Kaveh’s got a scarlet glow already. A part of you regrets inviting your hall neighbor out, but you appreciated the wealth of information he spilled out once a drop of liquor hit his tongue. 

Currently, Alhaitham is employed at the top company in Sumeru city. he’s the secretary but quickly raising up the ranks. He also owns his own house in a rich suburb, one he used to share with the drunk man beside you, but now it only houses himself. 

“Not only that but every week like clockwork that apathetic bastard would bring home the ugliest furniture. He once brought home an old piano. It took up so much space and clashed against the dark wood of the house! He wouldn’t even try to arrange them, he messed up the feng shui! He can’t even play! What was it for then?!” 

Ah, you can see why the architect was willing to move into the lackluster apartment, he was desperate the spare his blood pressure. You don’t blame him, in fact hearing about your former friend’s spending habits brought a sour aftertaste to your wine.

Oh, how nice it must be to have such financial freedom. 

“Then whenever I make a polite suggestion that he try to consider aesthetics, his response? ‘It is my life, my house, and my money. Suggestions from others are irrelevant and should be ignored. I’m guessing such philosophies are difficult to uphold for designers who must bend to their client’s will.’ Can you believe how insufferable he is?”  

“Hypocrite.” That word rolled bitterly off your tongue, a past dialogue resurfacing from the back of your mind. 

The blond’s hazy eyes peered at your inquisitively. Then his drunken mind sparks a thought: Why were you asking about Alhaitham? He also remembers that he had unanswered questions as well. 

“By the way, what is your relation to that detached man?”

“Just a nobody who got compared to his brilliance.” 

That doesn’t satisfy his question at all. 

“Not this game again. Seriously, just what went down between the two of-”

“For a person who prides himself on his empathy, you sure are oblivious to the discomfort you’re causing. Prying for details that don’t concern you.” A deep voice from behind made your skin prickle. 

Why was he here?

You didn’t need to look to feel the heavy weight of his teal eyes, boring holes into your stiff frame. The wine tasted awful now. It’s rude to ditch the guest that you had invited out, but you needed to get out of here before bile begins to taint your palette. 

Quickly signaling for the tab, you didn’t even comprehend the number before you slammed down a bunch of mora. 

“I’ll leave first. It was nice drinking with you, Kaveh. Let’s do this again sometime.” An excuse and lie. 

“Hey, wait-” The blond lifted up his hand. 

“I’ll walk you home. It’s quite dangerous this time of night around here.” Alhaitham’s body turned to follow you. Ah, he’s pointing out how shit your neighborhood was, isn’t he. 

“Oi! Stop interrupting your senior-”

Alhaitham tosses an extra handful of mora onto the table. Kaveh was nearly shaking with rage, but he couldn’t resist the temptation of another few glasses of wine.

You were taking exaggerated strides across the uneven concrete, trying to put some distance between you. However, your legs were no match for the towering man’s steps, as it wasn’t before long until he caught up. 

The clicking of your shoes and the thumps of his steps filled the tense silence. You refused to meet his gaze. But the thoughts racing through your mind needed answers, in particular, why is he haunting you now of all times? 

“Why are you here?” You punched in the code for the entrance of the complex. 

“I was looking for you. It just so happens that I spotted you through the window of the bar.” 

There was an annoyed twitch at your eyebrow. He is not aware of how creepy he sounded right now?

You swiftly pulled the heavy door open and tried to slam it behind you, to create a barrier. However, Alhaitham’s foot was just a bit faster. His tall figure continued to loom behind you as you ascended the stairs. 

“I have a reason to seek you.” 

“Oh? Then pray tell, why a young professional would follow a woman to her home.” Keys fumbling to fit into the loose door handle. 

“I took a CD. I’m no thief, and I believe that a musician should be fairly compensated for her work.” Came his flat reply. 

That’s it? You already had a terrible week at work, becoming the scapegoat for the incompetency of managers. Now, his presence was only exacerbating the negativity flowing through you. Maybe the heat of the fire hasn’t been completely forgotten. You don’t want his money, you don’t want his pity. 

For the first time, you whipped around intentionally staring straight into his teal-orange irises. You don’t need his money nor pity. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, maybe it was the mounting stress on your shoulders or a damning combination of both.

You wanted to wipe that indifferent look off his handsome face, you couldn’t stand it. 

Alhaitham’s lips parted ready to continue the transaction, only to be interrupted by the crashing of another on his. Your fingers were tangled in the collar of his shirt, wrinkling the crisp fabric. Your burning stare never left his slightly raised eyes, wanting to observe anything hint of human emotion. 

Shock? Disgust? Fury? You’d take anything over his infuriatingly stoic face. 

Instead of shoving you off like you inferred, Alhaitham slowly lowers his eyelids. Parting his lips even more as if to grant more access, allowing his tongue to dance with yours. These actions only irked you more. 

This wasn’t your first kiss with him, the first time happened while two friends were sitting by a piano, heads turning to face each other too fast. An accidental brushing of lips. It irked you that the mushy feeling from that day was currently making its grand return. 

Breaking away to allow oxygen back into your burning lungs, a thin strand of saliva trailing between. You were panting as his eyes reconnected with yours, something else was swimming behind those impartial irises. Too bad you were too impatient to decipher it, as you pulled his face back down.

Back pushing the rusty apartment door ajar. Two bodies disappeared behind the awful singing of its hinges. 

–

For once, you woke up before the screeching of your phone. The sun was just barely peeking through the blinds. A muscular arm was draped over your bare torso, sheets still a bit damp from sweat. You knew that smell currently suffocating you in the room. You just slept with your former friend. 

Your hand itched to slap your face. Idiot, you avoided him for all this time just to welcome him into your bed. 

Stealthily shimming your body out of bed, you could feel the slight wobble of your legs. Of course, he’s good at sex, he’s good at everything. You cast a quick glance at his slumbering form. Teal eyes were still hidden behind closed lids. Good, he’s not awake.

Like a thief in your own home, you toed around the clothes scattered across the floor, careful to avoid the creaky wooden planks you’ve memorized. 

Swiftly grabbing a random assortment of items out of your closet, you deemed the outfit professional enough for work. Trying to glide across the cluttered apartment like a ghost, you put on your heels, ready for the walk of shame away from your apartment. At least your gym membership will see some use now, a shower would be great to wash the shame and guilt off. 

It’s not like you had anything worth stealing. Grabbing your bag off the table, you exited the scene of the crime. Hinges announcing your departure.

If the you from a few months ago saw what the reunion of friends had morphed into, she’d probably keel over in shock. Can you even call yourselves friends anymore?

The next Saturday following that incident, you had finished up another gig at Lambad’s Tavern. An all too familiar face made his way up to the piano. Browsing through the selection of CDs you still had on display. 

“I’ll take this one.” Alhaitham held the smooth plastic in one hand, as his other reached for his wallet. 

You gestured for him to stop. Crossing your arms in front of your body as if soothing your nerves. Pride still too great to accept his money, a resource he seems to have in excess. Just earlier in the day, after reaching the second round in the audition, the proctor thanked you for your time and lead you to the exit. Another failed attempt to join an orchestra.

You knew that returning to your cramped abode will only lead you to wallow in misery with a cheap bottle of liquor. 

“You can come over. I’ll take it as compensation.” 

How would you define this relationship? Friends with benefits? But the two of you were ex-friends, so that wouldn’t really make sense. Regardless, you knew what you wanted. To forget the sting of failure through pleasure. You turned your head to face him, awaiting his reply. An attentive stare was the silent confirmation you needed. 

Does he think you’re easy or desperate? You didn’t particularly care for his opinion anymore. Alhaitham was currently kneeling by the side of your mused bed, he was here to ‘compensate’ you, and compensate he will. Your thighs were firmly held in his large hands, spreading them apart granting him access to the honeypot he seeks. 

His hot tongue lapped at your slick folds, parting the labia and collecting your slick. Making sure to end the journey with a small flick to the little nub on top, before the wet muscle traveled back down. The noise was sinfully melodic. Your legs were straining against his hold, instinctively wanting to close in on his face, but his strength far surpasses yours. So instead, you pressed your lips into the back of your hand. Denying him the privilege to hear your moans.

This must’ve displeased him greatly, as the next thing you knew he broke from his steady tempo, and his soft lips enclosed around your sensitive clit. Alhaitham’s tongue was now accompanied by the suction of his mouth, torturing your poor little bundle. Slurping and sloppy wet flicks bounced off the thin walls. Hot flashes shot up your legs as your toes curled, a moan was fighting its way past your teeth. 

He changed his pace once more. Now intertwining deep laps of your leaking hole with the overwhelming attention on your now swollen clit. Your honey was dripping down his chin as he continued his efforts. Your legs were trembling now, unable to give any resistance against his domineering hold. Thus, allowing him to slip one hand between, two long fingers stretching out your gummy walls. Prodding their way through the tight warm hole, mapping out their way to that special spongey patch. 

Your teeth wouldn’t hold back the moan any longer. Back arching off the messy sheets, the internal and external pleasure created a maddening duo, pushing your sanity off the edge. Your vision when white was your body shook, nonsense babbling out of your lips. Alhaitham gave your pulsing clit a few more slick licks before pressing a sweet kiss against it. 

His towering frame got up from the floor to loom over your recovering body. Teal eyes observing every twitch and shiver of your sloppy face. Soon his face descended closer, this time you were the quick one. Snapping your head to the side. Denying him a kiss, lest those mushy emotions bubble up during this moment. Alhaitham stills, he says nothing, just letting his warm breath fan across your face. 

He got the message. Pulling away to give space between your lips, he searches his back pocket for a condom. Even with your bodies connected. There was still a line deeply etched into the sand, separating the two of you.  

–

Once again you woke up before him. Once again you slipped out of his embrace. Ocne more his arms gave no protest. Another journey to the gym. 

One time turned into two times, two times turned into… you lost count at this point. However, it would simply be a waste of time to think too deeply about it. It’s Alhaitham after all, that man would never bother with activities that waste his time. If it doesn’t serve to benefit in any way, he’d be the first to drop it, what an objective guy he is. 

The two of you were still young professionals with a lot of steam to let off. A familiar face of convenience to destress and feel the wisp of comfort from another warm body in this cold world. This is what’s become of the pile of ashes from a once beautiful bridge.

The back of your head hit against the brick wall supporting your body. Another rejection, this time you made it all the way to the semi-finals. Alas, from behind a curtain, the panel of judges deemed you unworthy of playing in their esteemed orchestra. Your aching fingers dug into your palms, hoping that the pain would distract from the burning sting welling up in your eyes.

The pursuit of knowledge and the pursuit of dreams were more similar to each other than what great scholars of the nation of wisdom cared to admit.

They were the shining light that broke through the murky uncertainly of life, beckoning stray souls towards them. Those lost in the labyrinth of reality desperately seek to walk the path illuminated by their glow. 

In the end, knowledge and dreams were like the sun’s warm rays shining through the leaves of a tree. No matter how many times your hands reach for and grab, you can never hold them.  

The multiple part-time jobs you juggled between your college courses taught you the most valuable lesson no lecture ever could: Dreams cost money, and so did rent, and so did food, and so did utilities. 

Scornfully, you had to tack on extra courses to your piano major, a witless minor in business administration. It stings your pride to this day to attribute your current steady stream of income to that last-minute academic decision. 

It stung because, in the end, Alhaitham’s prediction was correct. Regardless of if one was a natural or artificial prodigy like you. Even the brightest and most dedicated musicians aren’t guaranteed a career, degree or not. Perhaps, this truth that you’ve come to terms with was the water that smothered the flame of anger. Leaving behind the defeated wisps of regret and embarrassment. 

Of course Alhaitham was right, he always is. 

There was a chime from the store door opening up beside you. A certain ashen-haired man walked out with a bouquet of Sumeru roses in hand. ‘Speak of the devil, and he doth appear’.

You quickly adverted your gaze, but it was useless as he had already taken note of your presence. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Deciding to take control of the conversation before anything starts. 

“I don’t have a show tonight.” Referring to the bouquet in his hands. 

“I’m aware. I was going to visit my grandmother today.” His deep voice drummed. 

Oh. You wanted the archons to strike you down at this very moment. Stupid, why did you assume such things? There’s nothing but a tightrope formed by virtue of convenience connecting your paths. Just what were you hoping for? Your cheeks were now burning with shame. 

“Would you like to come with me?” His calm tone beckons you out of your thoughts. 

At this rate, how could you refuse? Perhaps it was due to the surmounting weight of guilt and embarrassment. But a part of you also knows it’s because you missed her. So you followed Alhaitham to his car, buckling yourself in and opening your arms, offering to carry the flowers. The car ride was silent the whole time. 

Alhaitham’s grandmother always looked at you with those tender warm eyes of hers. Extending out a warm hand to comb through your locks in exchange for every song you’d play for her. She was the only voice that offered your impoverished heart any words of encouragement.

Words that brought an inkling of warmth from the icy stares of your parents. 

–

The final note echoed throughout the common area of the hospital. Applause could be heard from the few patients attending your impromptu concert. However, your attention was focused all on the soft smile of the frail woman in the wheelchair beside you. Her thin, wrinkled hands clapped together. 

Jokingly you gave a dramatic bow from your sitting position at the piano bench, earning a gentle chuckle from her. 

“Oh, what a lovely performance by the loveliest girl.” A hand reached out towards you. 

You swiftly bowed your head under her palm, allowing her fingers to rest against your scalp. Gently she began to stroke your head, making a wide smile stretch your cheeks. Your heart’s weekly dose of encouragement. However, this tender moment was broken by the vibrations of your phone. Your eyes quickly scanned the name of the caller. 

Oh, it was your tutor, you skipped your lessons once more in favor of visiting the Bimarstan. 

The woman beside you takes note of this and lets out a huff. 

“You’re already plenty smart. I don’t understand why your parents insist on such endeavors.” 

You didn’t have the heart to tell her the hours of tutoring and cram schools you sandwiched between your demanding schedule was due to the idolization of her grandson. It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t his. 

It was yours, for not being to stand on equal footing with the prodigy Alhaitham. You pressed your lips sealed. This detail didn’t escape her aging eyes. She shifted her attention to the sheet music propped up on the stand. 

“Do you know the story behind Overture to Mozart's Marriage of Figaro?”

You tilted your head to the side, you’ve never researched any piece in depth before. Reading your answer from this action, the old lady continued. 

“It was written for quite a famous play. A story and message that caused waves through society at the time. A story about servants rebelling against their masters, taking fate into their own hands.” Her warm eyes gave you a knowing look. 

“That is why it’s my favorite song from Mozart.”

“Oh? Then I’ll play it for you again. As many times as you want.” The smile returned to your face. 

You never thought that the next time you’d ever play that song would be at her funeral. Fellow professors and colleagues dressed in black filled the room of the wake, paying their respects to her and their condolences to the young man beside you.

What an awful transition into adulthood Alhaitham had. 

Tears streamed down your face, dripping onto the marble floor. Peering at the face of your dearest friend, his cheeks were dry. 

By the time the sky began to turn its brilliant pink and orange hues, the attendees had all funneled out of the room. Your parents were the first ones to leave, but you stayed firmly by Alhaitham’s side. It was only you, him, and the casket in the room now. 

She wanted a private burial, thus the staff informed you that they’ll begin the process soon. However, before they did, you wanted to play her favorite song one last time. Your send-off for her. 

Sitting down at the sleek black piano provided by the funeral home, you took a deep breath. Alhaitham takes his place next to you on the bench, with his back facing the piano you couldn’t see his face. 

The bright tones of this joyful song resounding through the room harshly contrasted the somber mood. But you continued playing regardless, fingers never skipping a note nor compromising the tempo. 

Alhaitham’s head found its way on your shoulder, the weight slightly interfering with your range of motion. However, you didn’t say anything and never stopped playing. The bright melody comforting two grieving souls. 

–

The last memories you had of her resurfacing as he places the flowers down at her grave. The tombstone is still as clean and polished as the day it was inlaid into the ground. A testament to the diligence of her grandson, the only family she left behind.

Today was the first time the day didn’t end with a trip to your bed. The mood was inappropriate for such things. 

Just two souls quietly reminiscing about the things that are now gone. As it was, it shall never be again. 

If his colleagues were to ever discover the current predicament the raising secretary of the company was in, they’d either dismiss it or laugh at him. How unthinkable. The phlegmatic man whose hands always held the reins of control, reduced to such a complacent fool? The desert would freeze over before any of them would ever believe such a thing. 

However, Alhaitham didn’t need to justify his actions to anyone. The ashen-haired man already knew the reason behind his actions. He’s known for quite a while now. He holds his convictions firmly and will walk through hell with them.

–

Sitting down in a private study room provided by the university, a senior was currently wallowing in an irrelevant emotion. Alhaihtam knows the name, it’s grief.

Of course, it’s depressing to lose a familiar face, a person who stood by your side throughout your developmental years. However, you were still alive. Why is he grieving over a person who’s still healthy and breathing? Questions unrelated to his thesis plagued his thoughts as his paper remained untouched on the desk.

Teal irises scan the stack of books he had piled to the side. Perhaps he should review some of the material to refresh his mind about his thesis on the consequences of unrecorded words.

Picking a random psychology journal from the mound, this book could hold the answers to why his thoughts are redundant. Alhaitham began his quest for an epiphany.

The student’s experienced eyes scanned through the text, noting details that could potentially support his points. It’s not a surprise that psychology and etymology go hand in hand, after all, words were born out of human thought and the need to communicate them.

This journal was only scratching at the ceiling that prevented him from crossing into the territory of true understanding. It frustrated him. 

Disdainfully scrutinizing the text further, running through each passage over and over, until he finally reads the first line of the final page:

“Psychology as a science has its limitations, and, as the logical consequence of theology is mysticism, so the ultimate consequence of psychology is love.”

The student finally closes the covers of the book, it had served its purpose.

No matter how many times his thoughts circled back, searching for correlations and different conclusions from figurative pinpoints. Alhaitham knew in the end, they were all just excuses. 

Love is illogical by nature, an unexplainable consequence of human thought. A fever which comes and goes independently of the will. Maybe, the true explanation of love has been lost to time, the unwritten words that belonged in the spaces between the script printed in preserved texts. 

So Alhaitham will understand his limits now. It matters not if he understands the origins of love or language or words. All that mattered to him is that he understands now: He was in love. A diagnosis and truth that came years too late. With this revelation quelling his thoughts, he finished his thesis. 

Acceptance, the last stage of grief. 

–

‘This is unhealthy’ a voice in his mind chastised. Alhaitham didn’t feel the need to defend his current actions, because the voice was right. This is unhealthy. Teal eyes concealed the running thoughts in his head, watching the raising and falling of your chest.

After all these years you reappeared in front of him. The ashen-haired man knew he couldn’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Even though it was made from a rope of thorns, he still grabbed onto it. 

For now, he shall set aside his pride, his hubris. Sex was the only time you would willingly approach him. Alhaitham was more than willing to exchange his body for the privilege of being close to you once more. A fair trade in his mind. 

‘If you love something set it free. If it comes back it's yours. If not, it was never meant to be.’

The stoic man is sure the saying would disagree with his tampering. Like setting a songbird free, only to lure it back into his hands with the irresistible treat of pleasure. It was all he could do. Alhaitham knew that cruelly grasping at the songbird will only snap the fragile tightrope that connected your paths. 

After all, you had fled the hated cage of your childhood home the moment the door was left open. He already decided he won’t do that to you. 

Instead, he’ll keep holding out his hand, palms wide open, waiting for you to come back to taste the pleasure he offers you time after time again.

You were laying on his chest, sleep drenched every fiber of your being, heart vibrating steadily against his own. 

It’s a paradox, how can your body be so close but your heart still so far away? 

The desire for sleep outweighed his lust for answers. Or it could be that he already knew, he was just delaying the thought for the morning. His heavy lids closed.

When they open again in the morning, he knows they’ll be greeted by the sight of an empty bed. He knows the sheets that hold your lingering scent will be cold. He knows he will be left alone in your apartment.

Alhaitham knows, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

The Sumeru Grand Orchestra, the golden ticket for any musician. Status, recognition, and generous paychecks. When the auditions were first announced you were one of the first to jump at the opportunity, and so did everyone else, flooding the application sites, but you were able to secure a number: 211. 

Weeks in advance on a muted keyboard you practiced every classical piece you could, sharpening your sightreading senses. You were led into the waiting room with all the other aspiring musicians, it was now a game of survival. 

You made it to the final round. It’s been five hours since you last left the palatial concert hall where the auditions were held. The one cramped room was now a motionless void, mutterings of prayers to any archon that would listen whispered through the thick air. 

“Number 211.” 

You were the lamb up for slaughter. The audition piece that was placed into your hand half an hour ago crumbled under the force of your tense grip. The proctor closed the door behind you, stealing off your path of escape as they led you through the labyrinth. At the end of the tunnel, you were greeted by the harsh stage lights glaring off the grand piano. 

The curtains that once shielded you from the captious glares of the judges were gone. All of you laid out clearly on the stage. Your fate is balanced on the tips of their immaculate pens. The minuscule tremble of your hands couldn’t escape their hawk eyes.

Chin up and shoulders back, you strolled across the polished wooden planks, settling down at the matte black piano, it was like staring into the abyss. 

Taking a deep breath, you signaled the start. Fingers danced along the ivory keys in accordance with the notes memorized. This stanza was from Meditation from Thais, the hypnotic theme filling the empty concert hall.

It’s been a while since you hear your own playing resounded out through such a place. However, this was a turning point a chance to take fate into your own hands. 

To once again stand under the warm lights and bow to an audience enamored by your music. For the songbird to fly free from it’s grey sterile cubical. 

“Stop.” A cold voice struck the fragile wings of a bird in flight. 

You did as you were ordered, even before your mind even registered the words. Oh no, you weren’t finished, you didn’t get to complete this round. 

“Number 211 is disqualified. The playing is soulless, empty notes that just echo off the walls.” 

–

Soulless. Huh, you’ve never been told that before. Raindrops landed into your unblinking eyes as they observed the darkening sky. Was nature taking pity on you too? Crying for you when your tear ducts were still frozen in shock? You let the cold droplets trail down your cheek. Around you, the crowd dressed in suits and ties walked passed the scene of a death.

The death of your dreams. 

You used up one of your precious sick days to attend this audition, but now it might no longer be just an excuse. You couldn’t feel anything but the sharp shards of shattered hope gouging into your back. Staring up at the gray sky from the deep, cold well of your misery.

When did this happen? When did the bright fire fizzle out? When did your passion die?

A sorry excuse of a laugh slipped out. No, it might be accurate to say that there was never a passion in the first place, something nonexistent cannot die. Something nonexistent cannot be created even if the haze of a fever dream might say otherwise. Now that the rain had washed away that haze, you could now clearly see the void. 

Did you really like the piano? Or was it a lie engrained into your flesh by stern hands? 

Maybe the judges were right, your playing was soulless, pieces only ever practiced for technical perfection. Talent meticulously crafted by grueling long hours. Fingers that separated your beating heart from the inanimate black and white keys. In the end, you were an artificial prodigy, with an artificial passion that quickly denigrated under the droplets of calm rain. 

“You’re soaked.” A baritone voice resounded behind you as a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders. 

Alhaitham had just gotten off the clock, exiting the grand sliding doors only to spot your listless figure standing as an obstacle for the weaving crowd of the city. However, you kept staring at the dull sky, uncaring about how your wet clothes clung to your shivering figure. You didn’t even seem to perceive his words. 

“You’re going to get sick.” Two warm hands placed themselves upon your shoulders, guiding your body to a secluded area, away from the crowd and rain. 

This motion jostled your eyes, allowing them to read the company name proudly displayed on the front of the towering skyscraper. Was this the future you had gambled away for a false path shown to you by a dream? A steady job, good savings benefits, and prospective increases in income. All the chips you had pushed into the center of the table as you drew dud cards. 

You shifted your eyes away from the imposing letters and connected with teal-orange irises. Was his mask of indifference hiding his smug satisfaction that his prediction was correct? Was he holding back an ‘I told you so’? The bitter whispers of a green-eyed devil tickled against the shell of your ear. 

“Come, I’ll drive you home.” 

No, you can’t go back to your abysmal apartment. You couldn’t even stomach the thought of seeing the sight of your reality. The messy bedroom, the music sheets scattered all across the cluttered living room, the mocking keyboard pressed up against a corner. If you were to step foot back in there, you’ll disappear under the murky waters in the ocean called ‘regret’. 

Your trembling hands grounded themselves in the crisp button-down, crumbling the fabric against Alhaitham’s smooth skin. No words could travel past your vocal cords, throat numb to move. All you could do was shake your hang head from side to side. You could feel the ashen-haired man take a deep breath, his mind quickly forming an alternative plan. 

“Come with me.” Large hands gently untangling your fingers from his clothes. 

–

Those same gentle hands were now rubbing a fresh towel through your dripping hair, soaking up the excess water that had been trailing droplets down your skin. His house was quiet, no rumbling of car engines from the streets, no loud gurgling pipes, no thumping footsteps. Still and serene, only allowing the soft pattering of rain kissing the ground and windows.

Alhaitham hasn’t spoken a single word to you ever since he welcomed you into his home and sat you down. 

As Alhaitham continued with his efforts to warm your shivering body, all you could do was observe the spotless wooden floors. They were so polished and lustrous… just like the grandiose stage.

Something vile was creeping up your neck, slowly making its way up to the falling sanctuary of your mind. No, you needed to push it back, you needed to distract it. To buy you some time before the vileness consumes you wholly. 

Hopeless hands trailed up the toned arms of the man currently drying your hair, making his movements stop. You took this opportunity to shift your body so that it pressed against his, the dampness of your clothes transferring to his. Ah, it must be uncomfortable for him. 

Clumsily, you began to undo the neat buttons of his button-down, only for your hands to be enclosed within a delicate grip. You could feel the weight of his condemnatory gaze upon you, teal eyes observing your movements as if he was calculating his next move. 

There wasn’t any time for contemplation. The bitter bile thoughts were quickly encroaching on their destination. With your hands immobilized you used your mouth instead, nuzzling into the skin that peeked through the unopened portion.

You could feel the small shiver of his warm body reacting to your cold cheek. Alhaitham lets out a deep sigh, hot breath fanning over the top of your head. He got the message. 

Your soaked dress was pulled over your head, heavy black fabric falling to the side of the bed in which you lay now. The sheets providing your shivering body with softness and a semblance of warmth. Alhaitham presses tender kisses down the nape of your neck, stopping between the valley of your breast to push your body further up the bed.

Larger hands ran along the length of your legs, as if to warm them up with the slow friction. Your legs gave no resistance as he places one over his shoulder, lips brushing against your knee. 

You let out a small sigh, the skin-on-skin contact was just what your frozen body needed. Your body twisted further into his sheets, your other leg pressed against the back of his hip as if to spur him to hasten his pace. However, Alhaitham, being the steadfast man he is, ignored your neediness and continued to trail kisses down your soft skin. His mouth ended his journey with a slow and deep lap at your clit, causing your body to jolt. 

“Mmm.”

Your skin has thawed, every nerve now acutely aware of each slow lick his wet tongue brushed against your sensitive bud. You no longer had any pride to uphold, thus moans just freely flowed out of your mouth just as how slick dripped from your aching hole. Once more you dug your heel into him, your neglected walls yearning for attention.

This time he was merciful, running one thick finger along the slick pooling between your folds. Gathering up the dew and tracing small circles along the entrance.

A whine followed, you twisted even more along the tussled sheets, reaching a hand down to tangle into his ashen locks. Alhaitham gave you want you wanted, slowly his thick finger was welcomed into your eager walls as his tongue continued to play with your clit. Your head was thrown back, heavy pants fogging up the room in the air, lidden eyes barely anything but the back of your head. 

Another finger was soon added, stretching out your leaking hole only leaving your gummy walls craving more. A few soft kisses were pressed against your now twitching bud, before his skilled tongue took over for the final push toward nirvana. With practiced precision his fingers swiftly pressed against that spongey patch, making white flames shoot up your spine. Your quivering legs and curling toes didn’t faze Alhaitham in the slightest.

“OH!”

With a firm tug to ashen locks and one final flick to your swollen clit, your eyes meet the back of your head, a stretched moan bounced off the walls. Back arched almost painfully off the bed, Alhaitham continued the slow thrust of his soaked fingers into your contracting hole. As you rode the waves of pleasure back down, Alhaitham finally detaches his lips from your cunt, a slick trail connecting them. 

The burning between your legs didn’t stop. You needed more, legs wrapping around his muscular torso, urging him to give you more. His self-control all but turns into dust in your presence. There’s not a plausible scenario where he could ever deny you. Finally, his leaking member can have its turn. 

Fighting against the restraints of your legs, Alhaitham was able to pull the condom over his full length. Your hole jolted with joy the moment it felt his fat tip pressing up against your entrance. The slow circling before he finally sunk in, in an instant your walls clung onto every inch he pushed in, thanking him with pulsing contractions.

He sucked in a long hiss from how your warm, slick walls perfectly hugged him. You let your tongue loll out with a deep moan, legs pulling his body closer so that your arms could find purchase around his broad shoulders. 

His pace was slow and deep, warming your walls up so as to not hurt the delicate you. This greatly displeased you, evident by how your nails dug into the solid muscle of his shoulders. You need it fast, you wanted it deep, you wanted him to pound those bitter thoughts away with his thick member. Two hands clasped around your hips, snapping your body tightly against his. He’ll grant your request. 

“Ah! Ah! AH!” 

His merciless pace had your breast bouncing and incomprehensible words babbling out of your lips. Heavy cock dragging out along your grasping walls, then slamming his hips harshly against your sobbing cunt. Every punishing thrust was welcomed by your slick walls thanking him. His heavy pants fanned across your ear as he continued this ruthless speed. 

Your body was now burning, precipitation hanging heavy in the air, yet you still arched your back off the bed to chase after his warmth. Bodies entangled in a mess of limbs in an animalistic chase after pleasure and orgasm. 

The wet noises of your weeping hole welcoming him back in over and over again. In between the heavy slaps of his balls against your sloppy cunt and thick tip bullying your poor spot, you could feel the deep vibrations in his chest. 

“Look at me.” You felt him pull away just a bit so he could have a clear view of your loose face. 

You didn’t want to. Lest his searching teal eyes discover the truth of why you pulled him into bed, to give him the satisfaction. You squeezed your lids closed. The particularly deep thrust he snapped displayed his displeasure at your actions. 

“Please.” The unfamiliar words coming from his mouth made your eyes wide again. The tone is gentle. 

So, with your resolve weakened, you finally connected with his gaze. What was that look in his eyes? It was too soft to be malice, too calm to be anger, too tender to just be lust. Yet your pleasure-melted brain couldn’t process it.

 In gratitude for you granting his wish, his thumb found its way to your swollen clit, rubbing deep circles into the sensitive nerve. You pressed yourself impossibly hard against his body, walls clamping down on his thick member. 

His actions made the knot inside your stomach pull against itself taught until the treads of sanity snapped. Even though your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, all you could see was the blinding white light of cloud nine. Your walls clamped down around him like a vise, snug walls now binding his length. Alhaitham clenches his jaw, stoic face twisted in the throws of pleasure as he spills himself into the barrier deep within. 

Long fingers painting the sides of your hips red as he recomposes himself. Chest heaving from the exertion. He helps himself to a few more slow thrusts in your gummy walls, riding out his own orgasm even as his red tip teetered on the edge of pain and pleasure. Your soft thighs still entrapping his towering frame. It looks like you still haven’t come down yet. 

Alhaitham’s hand gently cupped your messy face. Your lips were off limits, so he shall kiss those bitter tears away from your eyes instead. 

Like always you woke up before Alhaitham again. However, this time you couldn’t bear to look at his face. Was this out of embarrassment, shame, or guilt? You didn’t know and didn’t care.

Unwrapping his arms from around your waist, you hobbled towards the clack lump of your dress. The fabric was still ever so slightly damp, ah, the sensation against your skin made the bitter bile restart its journey again. 

You couldn’t help the envy that bubbled up in your system as you observed the spacious halls of Alhaitham’s house. Footsteps softly tap along the polished wood floors so as not to awaken the sleeping homeowner.

Of course, he has a nice house in the most upscale neighborhood. Of course, it's located in a quiet suburb a commutable distance away from the raucous city. Of course, it has nice big windows and expensive dark wood furnishings. 

Of course. Of course. Of course. It’s because he’s Alhaitham. He’s got everything. 

Your face scrunched up as bitterness crept up from the back of your tongue. It wasn’t from the bitter waters of regret, no, it was from a certain green-eyed creature. You needed to leave this house as soon as possible before you did something foolish. 

You dug your hand into your purse for your phone, ready to call a lift back to your shabby apartment. It was all becoming too much. Just at the end of the hall, you could spot the solid oak doors that blocked off the outside world. Get out of this cage and breathe the fresh air. 

You no longer cared about the noise your steps were making, thumps echoed throughout the halls frantically carrying you toward the shiny knob. A shaky hand grasped onto the cold smooth metal, ready to twist the deadbolt free. A glimmer of white coming from the side room caught your eye, reeling it back from its tunnel vision. Your head couldn’t help but follow. 

It was a grand piano. 

His former roommate was right, the white lacquer finish on the piano contrasted harshly against the dark wood bookshelves. It really did look out of place, taking up too much space in the side library. The dark walnut wood piano seat looked odd next to it as well. 

The viridescent seat cushion looked a bit worn as if it had been sat in regularly. Still, the pearly finish that reflected the morning rays beckoned you closer, the sense of nostalgia growing stronger with each step. 

It looked exactly like your old piano, your most cherished treasure that had been plundered from you so long ago. Trembling hands ran along the glossy fallboard, not a speck of dust was found along the paths of your fingers. You caught sight of the gold lettering inscribed along the front, it was even the same brand. 

The pull of intrigue was too great, you had to know, but do you dare? Why are you lifting your hopes up so high? Have you not learned your lesson after being dropped over and over again onto the cold pavement of disappointment below? Maybe you were some type of masochist. Just like Schrodinger’s cat, you can’t confirm if those hopes were dead or alive until you opened the lid. 

A resounding creek rang out from the protesting hinges, the lacquered lid heavy as if trying to conceal the truth away from your searching eyes. But your determination beat out any old hinges, lifting the heavy top above your head. Your breathing halted. 

Property of Bookworm and Earworm

It was written clear as day on the naked wood concealed by the glossy outer casing. Clumsy letters scribbled in harsh black permanent marker. The proof of authenticity. This is your treasured piano. 

Your arm lost all strength, the heavy lid slammed down reverberating all the strings and hammers in a chaotic symphony of shock. The clashing vibrations pierced your ears, causing the ringing that was now the background music to the realization crashing down upon you. 

All this time, Alhaitham stayed himself. His unfazed individuality moved through life to the metronome of his own heart. Like a firm apple tree whose roots held the ground below him together. The fruits of his labor dropping down to satiate a heart hungry for encouragement.

The shiny red fruits were given at every meeting, in exchange for every CD and performance attended. All this time, he never once looked at you with pity nor disdain. He treasured you.

And what have you given in return? You participated in gossip behind his back. You looked at him with the same prejudice you promised to defend him from. You broke your promises to him. You lied to him. You used him, even down to his physical body to further your own self-interests. 

When did the whispers of a green-eyed monster turn you into that selfish child from the storybook? 

If your past self was there to witness the scene in front of her, she’d be appalled. She’d beat you with hatred at the torment you put her beloved friend through. Yes, she’d hate you. You hate you. You’ve never hated yourself more.

How could you do this to him? You really are your parent’s child. You never considered how the shrapnel of consequences from your actions would wound those close by. 

You couldn’t even look at the reflection staring back at you from the polished white surface, her eyes stared back at you with malice. You were a selfish traitor. 

Too self-absorbed in your own wallowing to notice the slow steps approaching from down the hallway. Alhaitham’s steps were slow as he stared at the back of your figure. Like a watcher trying not to startle a resting songbird. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes, making sure he wasn’t just looking at the afterimage of a person who had long left the house. 

A small creak was all it took for your head to snap toward his approaching figure. Eyes wide and shaking. Alhaitham made sure to stop a arms length away as he accesses the situation. It looks like you’ve discovered his small secret. A fragment of the past that he relentlessly searched for, the only time he ever asked anything of your parents. He planned to return it to you one day. 

You looked like you could collapse at any moment, so Alhaitham held out his hand, palms open and awaiting. You reached a quivering hand out, pulling back slightly a few times before finally landing. Your fingers clasped onto each other, you drew closer to his board figure until your forehead was resting against his chest. You didn’t dare look at his face.

He made no further moves. 

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry… I’m so fucking sorry.” Your mouth couldn’t stop spewing the regrets deep from your heart. 

Even though you were apologizing, you didn’t want him to forgive you. You couldn’t even forgive yourself, how could he? It would be easier if he just hated you. If he were to just say ‘I hate you’ right now with that stoic voice of his, you could die peacefully. The best end that you deserved. You could feel the wet spots forming on his shirt from your tears. 

“I won’t forgive you.” The vibrations from his deep voice were felt against you.

Four words cut into you deeper than any knife ever could. But you deserved this pain. Your bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth, on the verge of splitting open from how hard you were biting back your cries. You didn’t deserve to cry. 

“Not until you play Overture to Mozart's Marriage of Figaro.” 

Those words halted your breathing. Like a rope that’s been thrown down the dark well you were wallowing in. Will your hands reach out and grasp onto this opportunity? Slowly you lifted your gaze up. Something behind the calm teal of his eyes was egging you on to do so, to take a hold of the lifeline thrown down from the bright sky. 

“… Of course.” You let go of him. 

Moving back over to your grand piano. Lifting the smaller section of the lid first this time placing it gently back on the larger section, allowing the music rack to appear. Setting up the notches into position, you then lifted the heavy back lid up. Placing the prop up this time so as to not put your piano through the same chaos again. 

Finally, the dustfree fallboard was lifted up, revealing the keyboards that held the faint imprints of history. You settled your self-down at the bench, your hands hesitantly reaching out only for your fingers to retract the moment your soft tips brushed against the smooth ivory. The bitter shame of failure scorching your delicate senses. 

Inhaling a deep breath, you turned to face Alhaitham reconnecting with his teal gaze as he stayed in place. A silent plead. With quiet steps, he approaches closer to the bench, the wooden protested under the added weight. Two bodys not touching, facing in opposite directions. Ah, just like a familiar scene from many years ago. 

Once more, you attempted to reach out your fingers, emboldened by the soothing body heat of the man besides you. Placing your fingers back into position, the scorning of your finger tips becoming irrelevant. Lulling you to return back into the blackness of your sanctuary of mind. Recalling the song that symbolized a period of great change, wonderful change. 

The pressed keys played their notes, the hammers inside your piano striking against the string. Ringing out the awful tones of stings that have gone out of tune from years of unuse. Even if it stung you ears and his the same, you continued to play the chipper overture. The bitter bile fizzling out like sea form, as laughter tickled the inside of your throat. 

“It sounds terrible.” You giggled honestly. 

“Mm. I’m not all that familiar with performance etiquette, but I’m certain talking during a show is bad manners.” There was no bit to his words. You couldn’t see his face, you could hear the smile. 

Two hearts now closer than previously, became the metronome for the off-key rendition of Mozart's Marriage of Figaro, accompanied by the bright giggles of the pianist and the content sigh of her audience. Outside the window, a songbird chirps to greet the beautiful sun that resurfaced after a day of rain.

He absolutely adores you, he always has. He knows that you know now. But he also knows that you weren’t ready to hear it. The weight of three small words would be enough to topple the stability of your consciousness. It wasn’t strong enough to handle them, not after the mangling hands of guilt and regret vandalized it. 

So he won’t say those three words, not yet, not until you’ve repaired your cracking foundations. Alhaitham will wait to tell you ‘I love you’. Like a patient tree standing on the hill biding its time for the return of a beloved creature. 

Fin~

DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

[sprout-fics]

Rotes Mädchen: Chapter 6

(Werewolf! König x Red Riding Hood! Reader)

(Art by the lovely @zwienzixes)

(Masterlist)

Word count: 4.2k Rating: MDNI, Explicit Tags: Werewolf! König, Fairytale AU, Monster Hunters TF141, Traditional German Fairytale setting, World Building/Lore, F! Reader, Sexual tension, Slow burn, Domesticity, Literal sleeping together, Bed sharing, Angst/Comfort, Fluff, Soft smut, Love confessions, Bonding bites Warnings: None

You're running.

Through the woods, under the full yellow moon. It hangs heavy in the sky, obscured by ink-black clouds that roll past the distant glimmering stars. The chill of the Hunter's moon crawls deep into your veins, escapes from your chest with every gasping, fogging breath of air. Your legs pump under you, boots colliding with the soft earth as you desperately hurl yourself further into the forest. Thorns snag at your crimson cape, and you yank it free, the scarlet fabric torn to ribbons as you flee.

A lachrymose howl cuts through the sky, shudders the trees around you. You pause just long enough to listen, to try and discern the impossible direction of the sound. It echoes all around you, engulfing you, unable to be stifled with the roaring hunger that craves for your flesh.

A scream then, but not yours. It curdles in your veins, shrieks high against the heavens, and you know the sound of the voice before your own call cries out desperately through the mist.

"KÖNIG!"

A scream again, and this time of pain. You throw yourself towards it, duck and weave through the trees and call once again for your friend, chest cracking with terror. Yet Konig's voice merely echoes out to you in a desperate attempt to ward you away.

"Rotty!! Rotty RUN!!"

Heedless of his warning, you skid to a stop in a small clearing just as the clouds reveal the full, haunting light of the golden moon.

König is splayed on his back, his mask torn, arms crossed in a vain bid to shield himself. Atop him towers a creature made of shadows, a massive form that summons every inch of fear in your form to a blaring instinct.

Run. Run. Run.

"ROTTY!" König calls, and his hand reaches for you- a plea, a warning, you aren't sure. You want to reach for it, haul him to safety, but the monster before you merely lifts its blood streak muzzle towards the sky, stands on its hind legs so it towers taller than the trees. The howl seems to crack apart the sky, fragment the tender edges of your soul in primordial horror.

You can't move.

König reaches for you again, and the warning he calls out to you is muffled by the thunder of your heartbeat. You catch his eyes, his gaze bright with fear. Gone are the soft green irises that speak to you with warm familiarity, replaced down with an eerie, glowing, gleaming gold that mirrors the light of the moon above.

The werewolf crouches low over his form, opens its gleaming fangs to slowly seize against König's throat. A killing bite, not yet pressing down. König watches you helplessly, an arm still stretched out as if to graze against the tattered remains of your crimson cape.

"Rotty."

Yet the sound comes not from his mouth, but from the jaws of the creature who holds him. You turn your horrified gaze to it, meeting moss green eyes eclipsed by drowning black pupils that suck you down.

"Rotty."

The wolf's jaws snap shut.

-------

You awake with a gasp, body bowing off the bed and trying to summon you upright. Your limbs seize in a violent twist, instinctively running from the horrific crunch of teeth that chases you into wakefulness. Yet a heavy weight is settled across your middle, preventing your struggle. You pull at it blindly, try desperately to free yourself from the iron grip that encircles you.

When it tightens you only squirm harder, chest heaving with quick little gasps of air. A voice, a befuddled murmur does nothing to soothe you, until at last you are released with a concerned, confused mumble of your name.

"Rotty?"

Your arms curl around your frigid form, trembling as you try to shake the remainder of the nightmare. The warmth of a familiar voice gently chases away the shadows, and after a long and heavy pause you feel the body behind you shift, drape something thick and soft across your shoulders. You blink at it, finger the worn edges of the scarlet cape you'd worn the night prior, when you'd curled in his arms and let tears fall from your eyes until he'd hushed you to sleep.

"König." You whisper, and the man at your back shifts closer to you, hesitantly letting a hand lay upon the one clutching your cape.

"It's just a dream, Rotty." He whispers, soft and worried, as if somehow you'll tremble under his touch. "You're safe."

You look over your shoulder then, glazed eyes seeing him for the first time, taking in the crease of his brow partially hidden under his hood. The same one torn in your dreams to reveal the open despair of his expression as he reached for you.

"I saw you." You whisper, scarcely audible. "I saw you die."

It's the wrong thing to say, and you don't realize it until it's too late, because König's worried eyes turn into bright fear. They catch the misty light of dawn that spills through the window, and you swear for a moment they gleam gold.

Yet König says nothing, and you know no words are enough to fill the emptiness of your premonition. The weight of it hangs between you both, an omen that beats closer to the midnight of tomorrow with every pulse of your heartbeats.

You turn to him then, shifting so your hands press flat against his chest, through the thin shirt you sewed for him, still too large for his massive frame. The cape slides from your shoulders, pools around your hips as if you arise from a sea of red. Your fingers splay across the laces, feel rigid muscle underneath. His heartbeat flutters against the pads of your thumbs.

"Hold me." You tell him, muscles still shivering in the aftermath of terror.

König obeys as if your words are a sacrament handed down by the divine, arms reaching for you, hauling you against him with such fragile care, as if you'll shatter under his broad hands. A thing made of glass, something that reflects the misty light of dawn with a dove-gray sigh. You fall into him as he falls onto his side, an arm pillowing your head, the other pressing you to his chest.

"You're safe, Rotty." He tells you gently, and you nod into the thick bicep of his arm, listening to the coo of larks resting atop the eves of your cottage. Slowly, the terror of your dream is released in slow, steady breaths, form relaxing into the sanctuary of his embrace. König seems more than comfortable to keep you there, his own chest rising with slow, even inhales. It feels almost as if he's drinking in the scent of you, trying to memorize the shape, sensation, and smell of you in his arms.

"I should light the hearth." You murmur faintly, and it doesn't budge him from where he lays, back to the rest of the cottage so he crowds you against the wall protectively. Tangled in the blankets, your cape, the layers of your skirt you'd never shed, it feels much like a warm, comfortable den, one you are hesitant to leave.

"Stay." He tells you in a hushed whisper, voice low, deep like the hollow of a tree. "Just a little longer."

You can't find it in yourself to complain, comforted by the weight of his arm slung across you, the warm press of him across your front. You surrender, nuzzle deeper into him with a languid sigh, allow a hand to gently entwine with the shoulder of his shirt.

There's words you should say, you think. A confession to be made. Here, in the soft light of morning, you feel affection blossom in your chest with springtime flowers, unfurling in the damp ethereal break of dawn. You wonder if you speak them like an April headwind they'll somehow carry him away from you, forcing him to draw back as he always does, with secrets hidden behind the moss green of his gaze.

One more day, your mind whispers once more. A prayer, a warning, a plea. One more day before your world is eclipsed by the full moon, before a howl splits the sky, before the thing from your nightmares prowls beyond the lantern light of your beloved home.

You vainly try to ignore it, try to instead imbue yourself in the way König sighs and props his chin on the crown of your head, on the pine-laden scent of him, of musk and cedar the faint smell of smoke that hails destruction. The worries of the world whisper in the air around you, frosting against your senses with chilled fingertips. The warmth of him alleviates it, cradles you in blissful comfort. You, like him, memorize the sensation of this moment, wind it like ivy into your veins as if somehow it will shield you from the things to come.

"This could be our last day together." He says then, thoughts an echo of your own, and you pull back to gaze up at him in grief, expression tight with a desperate worry.

"Don't say that." You whisper, your voice strained as you say it once more. "Konig...don't say that."

His eyes meet yours, and there's a distant sort of grief there, as if somehow he's already accepted his fate. It makes something inside you flare with alarm, and you find yourself gripping him with a sudden ferocity that startles you both as you shift to straddle him, stare down into his eyes.

"We're going to be fine." You tell him in a trembling voice, as you try to convince him as much as yourself. "Price and the others- they'll catch the wolf and kill it. They'll make sure it never touches us, a-and-"

You swallow, unsure of your words, watching the way the grief deepens in Konig's eyes, as if he doesn't believe you. It threatens to catch in your chest with a distant cry.

"We'll be safe." You tell him in a whisper, trying to force prophecy into your words. "and you'll stay. I'll protect you."

König's eyes widen for just a moment, and you watch a flash of realization pass across them. it softens the fear there, the grief and acceptance into something achingly tender. The warmth of it flutters across your chest like the quick pulse of robin wings, startles you so you suck in a breathy gasp from where you sit atop him.

"My brave Rotty." König purrs, and his hands raise to gently rest on your thighs, hidden by the folds of your skirt. "Sweet, gentle Rotty."

You shiver at that, feeling warmth rush across your exposed flesh despite the chill of dawn. You want to chase it down into him, let him warm your form, let the heat of his body alight the cold, lonely corners of your heart. If he does, if he burns a way inside you, you know you won't be able to bear it if he leaves you.

It's a thought that's haunted you this entire time, that König has stolen your heart he will run away with it, that you'll awake the morning after the full moon to find him gone, your bed empty. The hearth cold. There's a prophecy that whispers a warning in your thoughts that despite your tenderness for him, the man before you is made of mist, of a softness that will slip through your fingers and dissipate in the light of dawn following destruction.

It only makes you cling to him harder, hands splayed against his chest, bunching his loose shirt between your fingers. He must see the despair on your face, because König lifts a massive, worn hand to your cheek, knuckles grazing across soft skin.

"Liebling." He murmurs sweetly, and his eyes are aching with adoration from where they look up at you under his hood. "If only you knew what I'll do to protect you."

Show me. You think. Show me everything, the lengths you'll go to, the secrets you keep. Show me how much I mean to you, show me that you won't disappear.

Instead you nuzzle into his palm with an unsteady sigh, cupping it to your face and looking down at him once more.

"I wish..." You whisper despite yourself, thoughts spilling outwards before you can stop them. "That I could kiss you."

It's a selfish thought, and you know it. König refuses to show his face, even after all this time. He's desperately protective of the hood that shields him from you, refuses to show you even a glimpse when you eat together, your back turned to allow him privacy. Yet here you are, once more wishing for the things you're not sure you can have, wanting desperately to vanquish the barriers that stand between you both.

König's eyes widen under the hood, and your face falls, knowing you've made a mistake. Yet then he blinks, and shifts under you, gently scooting you off his form. You think it's a refusal at first, especially when Konig slides from the bed away from you. There's an apology ready on your lips- one that hesitates as the man before you kneels at your feet tossed askew over the bed.

König is surprisingly delicate as he cups your foot, still hidden in its warm stocking, and for a moment you're reminded of the tale of the girl with the pumpkin and glass slippers. Like the prince, König lifts your foot onto his thigh. Yet instead of offering you a crystalline glass token, he instead reaches a hand under the hem of your skirt to drag the top of your stocking slowly down the length of your calf.

You suck in a breath, heart thumping as you feel the fabric slide down your skin, curious as to his intentions. When he finally divests you on the garment, he raises himself up, scooting between your legs and peering up into your face bent towards him.

"Do you trust me, Rotty?" He asks, and there's something different to his voice now, a distant rumbling purr that sounds not unlike a growl.

"Yes." You whisper back, and your hands itch with the urge to raise to his shoulders, somehow bring him closer.

Closer he comes, because König takes the stocking in hand and lifts it to your eyes, tying it swiftly around the back of your head. Blinding you.

There's a stab of disappointment that is quickly erased by daring hope as you hear the rustle of him removing his hood. You press forward eagerly and hear the soft rumble of a chuckle when König takes note of your enthusiasm. He lifts himself with a breathy sigh, lips brushing against yours in a chaste, delicate kiss.

It's just as you imagined in your dreams, tracing your lips in the darkness when he slept above you, wondering if he was gentle with you there too.

You chase after him eagerly, wanting to memorize the sensation of him against you, and König takes only a moment before he too cedes to the desire. Hesitant though he is at first, he eventually allows a sigh to escape his parted lips, mouth moving eagerly against yours as his arms come to wrap around your waist.

"Rotty..." He groans, and you feel his desire bleed into you, crimson and bright, tantalizing against the passion of your thoughts. "Schön Rotty..."

He lifts you then, into the bed, brackets himself above you and dwarfs you with his massive form. You can't see him, senses entrenched in darkness, but the blindness only makes your remaining senses blossom scarlet with sensation, drinking in his scent, his touch, the murmured endearments his whispers onto your lips when he kisses you.

You hook an arm around the back of his neck, pressing him down into you, wanting the warmth of him to be your own. You want the edges of him to bleed into you, to be unable to discern where you stop and where he begins.

"I want this." You whisper to him blindly, fingers reaching up to graze through his surprisingly long strands. He shudders almost violently at the contact. "I want to keep you."

"Rotty." He growls then, and you shiver at the need, the possessiveness that flares abruptly in his words when he answers you. It feels like the distant snap of some forbidden tether, the shatter of some restraint that holds back a beautiful, dangerous creature. You feel almost akin to prey, with his fixated gaze that seems to watch you like a doe in the glade. Respectful, entranced, but hungry.

You wonder if this was his secret, the depths of his desire for you, untamed but gentled for your domesticity, gleaming eyes reflecting the warmth of your hearth even as he hungers for the moonlight. Perhaps he's something different than what you imagined, an animal that eats willingly from your palm, but will swallow you whole if only to slake his yawning desire for your flesh.

You want him to devour you.

Your bare calf peeks from the ruffle of your skirt, hooks over his hip so you spread open for him- willing, eager, wanting. It summons a growl from his lips, a rumbling groan that sounds like the bend of aged aspen against the wind. You long after it, want to carve it into your thoughts just like the touch of him against your skin.

You feel it when he divests himself of his shirt impatiently, and you try to imagine the planes of his body you can't see. Instead your hands try and map out his skin, tracing the indents and silvery tissue of scars you find littering his chest. You want to ask him about them, about why they feel like the claw marks of something wild. Yet König silences your queries with a kiss, hands tugging at the laces of your bodice to reveal you to him.

"I want to see you." He huffs, warm breath curling against the planes of your face. "I want to see all of you, Rotty."

I'll let you see anything you want, just as long as you stay.

"König..." You mewl instead, raising your fingers to comb through his surprisingly long hair. He shudders hard for a moment at the contact, an unsteady breath loosening from his chest before he returns to kiss you with a sudden ferocity that steals the air from your lungs.

"What sharp teeth you have." You murmur curiously, and he stiffens for all of a moment before returning:

"The better to bite you with."

Bite you he does. Gently, with his whole mouth, Konig clamps down on the arch of your neck where your throat meets your shoulder. An indent, not hard enough to bring blood, only to lay a lasting mark you wish to keep there always as a reminder of him.

It feels somehow like a claim.

More. You think, senses growing hazy with lust. Show me. Show me how much you want me, how much you want this, what you'll do to keep me.

You moan as his hand grazes up the inside of your thigh, rucks your skirt up to your hips to reveal the tender flesh to his touch. You arch into him greedily, beckoning him further against you, offering yourself like a lamb to slaughter if only it means it will quench your desire.

"Rotty." He growls again, voice deeper, somehow feral. "My Rotty."

He kisses you like he means it, and you surrender willingly to his rolling, roaming touches, to the impatient tugs of his hands as he sheds you both of your clothes, to his husking groans that drag in his chest at your pliant mewls. His hands grope at your chest, your hips, drinking down your desperate little keens when you plead for him to touch you properly.

His broad fingers fill you like nothing else, and you let your head flop into the pillows helplessly when he croons at your arousal pooling over his palm. It's clumsy, a little stilted, but it's good, his enthusiasm clear in the way he drags insistently at your silky walls, coaxing wanting murmurs to him.

"J-just like that, oh God. König..."

The pleasure multiples, draws higher inside you, stretches for the sun in the shade of the forest, seeking a higher warmth. It remains just out of reach, a tantalizing reward that you cry out for with no reprieve.

"Shh, gently, Liebling." He murmurs with restrained tenderness as he arranges you carefully on your side in his arms, lifts a leg with his broad arm and begins to push inside. You whimper at the stretch, feel your walls eventually ease and allow him entry. The drag of him forces the air from your lungs, and you go limp just so you can take it, take all of him, everything he has to offer and more.

He splits you open, drags his teeth along your jaw like he's searching for a vein, hauls you to him like he's afraid you will escape. You're forced into docile willingness, submitting with wanton little moans as he rolls his hips against yours, forces you higher into bliss.

"Scheiße-" He grunts, hugging you close so he can thrust into you, hand flexing as he holds your leg aloft, parting you for him. "So good for me, Rotty. Want to stay here, just like this, in your bed, listening to you. Just like this."

It doesn't take long for you to crest towards the peak of your arousal, the angle of him inside you grazing against the clutch of your heat and making the spool of desire tighten across your thighs. It unfurls in low, rolling waves, spreading through your limbs, your veins, the marrow of you that's picked clean by his teeth.

König takes you in the way of wild animals, snapping jaws held back only by your delicate touch, offering apologetic little whines when he forces you into overstimulation. He growls and huffs into your shoulder, teeth nipping with scarcely contained ferocity at your bare shoulder. It makes you wonder if he's holding back far more than he lets on, that there's a danger to him that might drown you should you release it.

He hauls you flush to him after several wild thrusts that make your voice ring out in the quiet solitude of your cottage, forever echoing inside the stone walls of this moment where he's claimed you. It's with a snarl, a curse that he spills inside you, warmth curling your insides as his hips jerk, and his voice descends into something akin to a whimper.

You lay in a sweaty heap in his arms, and König hauls the blankets atop you both, nestles you into his embrace, peppers fluttering kisses across your face, your blindfold.

"Dearest Rotty." He murmurs with tender affection. "Beloved Rotty."

There's an affection that floods your chest, sharp, almost painful at the clear adoration in his words. He pets at your back, hums a low, satisfied purr into your ear that speaks of contentment. It's in this moment that you wish you could stay, that you wish you could keep him.

"I love you." You confess at last, unable to see him but feeling his heartbeat flutter in his chest where you lay your cheek. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

I don't need to see you. If you just tell me, if you just stay, I'll go blind for the rest of my life just to keep you here with me.

König pauses for a moment, and at last he sighs. It feels like the final breath of winter giving way to soft spring, a surrender to you as much as himself, no longer able to deny his feelings for you.

"I love you too, Rotty." He tells you, voice full of emotion. "Since the day we met, I think I have loved you."

You think of that, of the day all that time ago when you found him in the forest, on the misty morning in the aftermath of the monster that chased you through your dreams. He appeared there, hurt and broken in the ways you were, and were not all the same. Lonely, needing, hoping to be found. You, you found him, not knowing then that he had found you too.

You should tell him, you think. You should convince him to retreat to the safety of Laswell's with you, to appease Price and the others even if they remain suspicious of him. You know if he denies you that you'll stay, and you'll face the darkness of the luminescent, heavy moon together.

In this moment, in the dawning darkness of what lies ahead, you instead kiss him, and pray it won't be the last time.

"Promise me you'll stay." You whisper against him blindly.

"I promise." He tells you, and once more that prophecy lingers with taunting whispers at the back of your thoughts. A festering doubt not abated by his touch.

You kiss him, and you hope it's not a lie you taste upon his lips.

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[sylphrene]

little comic about a headcanon i have about the Explorers protag

Vulpix is Katya, she/her, and Riolu is Loki, they/them

[tsukimefuku]

wardrobe malfunction ❖ nanami kento

summary: your cursed technique isn't exactly clothing-friendly, and when you find yourself in a less than ideal situation, you only had one person you could ask for help.

tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader, light nanami x reader, cursing, kind of suggestive but not exactly (?), second hand embarrassment is real, this is just pure crack to be honest, is reader lucky or unlucky? i fret, for i do not know, this is barely proofread because i wrote this absolute nonsense on a complete whim, i hope you have as much fun reading this as i did writing it.

wc: 1k

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

You had just finished blowing up a grade 2 curse that lunged at you full-speed. Your chest heaved up and down with tiny droplets of sweat coming down, as you panted inside the abandoned apartment complex. For a while, the adrenaline pumping through your veins made it hard to assess your state, but then, as you began decelerating and looked at your body, you realized something.

“Oh, no. Not again.” 

Considering your innate cursed technique involved casting small bombs of cursed energy, they could blow up through many things, and when you didn’t manage to distance yourself from them before the impact… Well, safe to say that some things were bound to happen.

You pulled your phone ready to call… someone. Anyone, really. But the ancient piece of technology that you failed to replace in these past few weeks wouldn’t let you access your contacts list, providing you solely with your three last dialed numbers — Gojo, Yaga and Nanami.

Your fucking phone. Your damn, fucking phone.

Just thinking about this had you beyond mortified, but it was either this, or never leaving the building again. So you took a deep breath before pressing dial.

***

Nanami found Shoko to take care of some minor injuries on his arm, and as she was finished, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, and saw your name flashing on the screen.

As he answered, you stuttered for a moment before mustering up the courage to speak.

“So, Nanami, I need, uh, some assistance.” 

He found that to be odd, considering you knew he was on another mission today, and this was a solo endeavor for you.

“Has something happened?”

“So, you know how my technique works, right?”

That question had the sorcerer feeling somewhat puzzled, given he had seen you use it — and explain it — multiple times already.

“Of course, we've been on missions together, and you have explained it to me more than once.”

You sighed before proceeding. “So, here's the thing, I kind of blew myself up.” 

That quickly got his attention and he tensed up. Shoko had just finished removing her gloves and noticed it.

“Are you injured?” His usually impassive voice had a hint of worry to it.

“No, no. I'm fine. Sometimes this kind of happens, and I'm pretty used to blocking the impact and using RCT if needed.” 

Is it her? Is she okay? She better be, I need her tomorrow, Shoko whispered at Nanami as she walked around and sat on a bench in front of him.

He didn’t notice what she asked, as he was humming confusedly, given you still hadn’t clarified why you called.

Your voice kind of cracked up for a moment, as you violently blushed on the other side. At least, the phone is an imageless form of communication.

“So, I’m okay. But my clothes, they, uh… I blew them up.”

He slowly began taking in what exactly you were saying.

“That's it, that’s what happened. I… I need clothes, please. Can you bring me some, just so I can get out of here without getting arrested for public indecency?”

Nanami kept silent for some time, and felt a slight rush of heat run over his cheeks.

“Nanami?” 

He coughed slightly, tensing his posture as he did.

“Yes, of course. But wouldn't you rather someone else to do that for you, like Ms. Nitta, or one of the female students?” 

That caught Shoko’s attention, and she discreetly looked at the sorcerer while he was still on the phone with you.

You nearly gagged.

“No! No way. I… I'm mortified as is.”

Somebody please fucking kill me.

“I can't talk about this with anyone else. It's too damn embarrassing,”  you stated, letting your mind go to random facts in order to try lifting the mood. “I now understand why that student from Kyoto keeps taking his shirt off to fight, but that's beside the point.”

You were met at the wake of your failed joke.

“I-I mean… Just bring me something, please.” 

Nanami cleared his throat as he pulled on his tie and opened his shirt’s top button.

“Fine. Send me your location.”

You sighed, relieved.

“Great, you're the best, thank you!”

He switched his phone off and grounded himself for a moment.

“Is she alright?” 

“Yes, she is,” he answered, some words choking on their way up for a second. “Ms. Ieiri, do you happen to have any clothes around here?” 

“What? Why would you need that?”

He couldn’t muster up anything remotely feasible to say, and given that embarrassment is an infectious condition, it began creeping up on him, too.

Nanami resumed speaking. “… I'm sorry to bother you. I just remembered I can get an assistant's uniform.” 

He then walked towards the door to leave.

“Nanami…” Shoko began.

“Hm?” He asked, as turning around.

“… Are you blushing?”

“... Good afternoon,” he answered, before stepping out a little quicker than usual.

***

Nanami had just arrived, and you let him know you were upstairs. As he asked how you wanted to receive the clothes, you were insistent that he threw the bag over the steps, and being a reasonable and rational person, the sorcerer obviously declined to do that.

“Just throw the thing already!” you yelled from the top of the stairs, away from his sight.

“I’m not uncivilized,” he replied, sighing. “I’m going to put them down here, and wait for you outside.”  

Nanami was considerably less mortified than you would expect, but it was him, Mr. mature, after all. Also, this wasn’t the first embarrassing situation of yours that he had witnessed.

You were prone to setting yourself up for absurd shenanigans, it seemed.

As you heard him leave and close the door, you stepped your way down and flimsily put the black pants and white buttoned shirt, which didn’t match at all with the hiking boots you usually wore on missions.

You went outside, and were met by him, his usual impassiveness slightly disturbed by something you couldn’t quite yet identify.

“Thank you, Nanami,” you stated, sighing relieved.

“It’s no trouble,” he answered, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. 

You were both uncomfortably silent for a while.

“These kinds of unexpected things happ-”

“We will never talk about this again as long as I live, please, I can’t cope” you pleaded, voice simmering with desperation for this awkward moment to be over, “just, please.” 

He cleared his throat, mindlessly adjusting his tie around his neck. It strangely felt more tight than usual.

“Of course. I apologize.”

“No need. It’s fine. Let’s just go back to Jujutsu High and pretend this never happened.”

“I do not know what you’re talking about,” he said, sparing you a quick glance.

You smiled, amused and thankful.

“Right. Precisely.” 

[tokoumaru]

❤︎  genshin impact boys as highschool love interests! 

feat. xiao, childe, itto tags. headcanons, imagines, fluff, slight angst, yandere themes, modern au, afab! reader warnings. childe’s part contains yandere themes, xiao’s contains sa (not by him), and itto’s contain minor mentions of gangs, if you have trouble reading these types of tropes, please feel free to skip

❤︎   childe/tartaglia (yandere childhood friend)

in your younger years, you vaguely recalled being best friends with this cute girl with ginger hair. ever since you bravely saved her from an onslaught of bullies during kindergarten, she’s been stuck to you like glue. wherever you went, her short stature would follow and both of you would always play in the riverside next to the neighbourhoods... her name was something along the lines of jazz..? ajax? 

when you had to move, tears were running down her sweet cheeks as she begged you to stay. to your surprise, she even poked a hole in your car’s tire just to stop you... though the adults dismissed it as child’s play, there was an unsettling feeling in your stomach. the last sight you saw of her was when she was resolutely looking at your leaving car with a glint no normal 6-year-old could make. 

now that you’re 17, moving to teyvat high was quite hard for you. everyone had their own set of friends by now... it was quite lonely most of the time. from your little corner of the classroom, you’ve always heard the girls talk about this guy... childe, right? they always went on and on about how cool and attractive and athletic he was... regular girl talk, you guessed.

murmurs and talks of him only increased during your school’s sports fest, almost everyone was talking about him competing in the most awaited basketball tournament! 

curious, you watched along the sidelines of the game. though, suddenly everyone's cheers had gotten louder and you just needed to know why. 

a mop of familiar ginger hair swiftly passed by your view, dunking the basketball straight into the hoop as the crowd goes wild! 

suddenly, the tall ginger’s ocean eyes landed in your direction... ah, so ajax wasn’t a girl after all. the short girl that clung onto you was long gone, now replaced with a tall boy carrying a lean body, his voice octaves deeper than your own and his world leagues away. 

the next few days, you were left to wonder if he recognized you... he couldn’t, right? he had other things to worry about... such as the number of love letters he receives every day in his shoe locker. 

“y/n! is that really you...? I missed you so so so much!” 

as usual, you were simply passing through the hallways until ajax trapped you in between his arms and lifted you up, gripping you so tight that you had to use all your force to break free from his hold. 

“is it because you don’t remember me?” 

from the moment you broke free from his arms, he deflated, a pout on his handsome face. at the sight, you couldn’t help but refute him immediately in a panic. 

“so you truly do remember me! that makes things easier for me, darling.” 

caught off guard, you didn’t realize ajax pulled you closer to him, encasing his lean arms around your waist. then, his lips were suddenly on your lips, his calloused hand caressing your cheek... all for the entire student body to see. 

the next few days were hellish, to say the least. somehow every female in teyvat high hated your guts, even going as far as to ostracize you from the rest of the student body. 

you didn’t know why all these girls were being so hostile, from stealing your athletic wear to writing disgusting names on your table... all you could do was turn to your childhood friend in times like these. 

whenever a girl would pour water over you or trip you on purpose, you would immediately run to ajax and vent everything. 

“shh... it’s okay y/n, they’re just being petty because they know that they’ll never hold my attention like you do.”

when the bullying got really bad, you would rush to the rooftop holding back your tears. only letting everything out as ajax held you to his chest, stroking your hair while your tears soaked his school uniform. 

one day, the girls who bullied you were especially ticked off. they claimed that you were seducing childe, shoving various pictures of him and you on the rooftop to your face. 

no matter how much you protested, the girls only ignored you and roughly pulled you towards an abandoned store room at the back of the school. there was nothing you could do against the group, all you could muster up was bang against the door as they took your phone and locked you in the dark. 

you screamed for help, you called your teacher’s names, your parent’s names, and even ajax’s name numerous times in desperation. the tears dried on your cheeks as your voice went hoarse... you didn’t know how long you were in there. the darkness was all you could see. 

“y/n! are you in there?!” 

ajax’s voice was like a glowing light amidst all that’s happened to you. you cried out his name and begged him to save you. 

“don’t worry, darling... I’ve got you now.” 

he burst the rusty door open and immediately rushed to your shaking body in the corner of the room. desperate for someone to cling on to, you immediately pulled ajax in and buried your head in his neck, his boyish scent comforting you. 

“I love you, Y/N... and only I can love you...”

your mind was in a frenzy and you couldn’t register the words ajax had uttered, only choosing to cling to his warm embrace further and bask in the sweet comfort his kisses gave you. 

as ajax’s ginger locks intertwined with yours as he buried his face in your hair, a smirk slowly graced his lips while he kissed the top of your head. 

while your childhood friend mumbled sweet nothings into your ear, you slowly fell asleep in his lean arms, too tired to be able to think straight.  

“it’s my turn to be your saving grace, Y/N.” 

you failed to remember that you had always locked the rooftop door after entering... and that the only possible culprit left would be your one and only childhood friend.

❤︎   xiao (stoic seatmate)

being new to teyvat high, you were left to sit alone at the back of the class, though you were thankful for the window seat... somehow, your only seatmate ended up being a student named xiao alatus. 

he was... quiet, to say the least. all your classmates feared him to death, you probably guessed it was because of the stoic stone-face he carried and the deathly aura around him; pair that with the numerous piercings that lined his ear and the somewhat natural red eyeliner that rimmed along his eyes, you understood with everyone walked on eggshells around him. 

you were the same at first as well, never really looking in his direction or even trying to talk to him. well, that was until you were paired up for a group task by your teacher. truthfully, you were terrified, you didn’t even know how to look at him! somehow, both of you agreed to work on the task at a nearby café, a halfway point between both of your places. 

up until the moment, you dreaded having to meet with xiao, even thinking of bailing on him with some flimsy excuse and doing everything without his help... though you weren’t too keen on doing this to someone who hasn’t done anything wrong. 

you arrived at the café a bit early, so you decided to order some drinks in advance. you were simply thinking of what to get while queuing at the cashier until some guy started slipping his hands up your skirt. 

you froze, not knowing what to do at all. a disgusting feeling settled in your stomach as your hands clammed up in fear. the perpetrator behind you was both bigger and stronger than you... you didn’t think you could even make a scratch on him. 

“that’s enough, what do you think you’re doing to her?” 

in the blink of an eye, the pervert’s hand left your underskirt and was suddenly in xiao’s deathly grip. xiao immediately placed himself in between you and the perpetrator, successfully blocking him from your view.

“people like you are despicable. leave, now.” 

with one last glare, xiao pushed him out of the line with ease and turned to you with his arms crossed. although his face was rigid and his golden eyes were pointed in a glare, you could’ve sworn there was a hint of worry inside them. 

“...call me next time.” 

ever since that day, you’ve looked at your seatmate in a different light... literally. you mustered up the courage to look xiao’s way for once, and it just so happens that he was looking your way too.

upon the immediate eye contact, he immediately turned his head back to the board, the tip of his ears turning red... you truly wondered why you were so scared of him at all.

now, suddenly all you did was talk to xiao in classes. not out loud of course, but through the little scribbles you both shared in your notebooks. sitting at the back of the class and right next to each other gave you both the advantage of everyone caring less about you two... it was you and xiao’s little corner of the world almost. 

the mini-conversations between you two that happened in the corners of your notebook would never fail to make you laugh once you read them again... the contrast between your cursive letters with xiao’s rigid edges were always such a sight to see. 

soon, the two of you found yourself holding study sessions at the same café you met for your first project. almost every day after school, the two of you would walk together to the nearby café and sit on the tables at the very corner of the room. 

“i’ll sit next to you… it’s safer.”

xiao insisted to stay by your side at all times, even going as far as to wait for you outside the restroom.

no matter how much you insisted that you would be fine, and that your perpetrator had probably been banned at the cafe already, your seatmate still wouldn’t budge.

“I simply wish for your safety, please just ignore me.”

you sighed in surrender as you heard xiao stubbornly insist, although you couldn’t deny the flutter of your heart as he scooted a bit closer to you after you two sat down next to each other

since the tables at the cafe were a bit too small for two people on the same side, your hand and his calloused ones would often brush against each other each time you tried to grab something… you tried your best to ignore the way xiao’s face would turn red every time.

though, on one occasion xiao just resorted to roughly grabbing your hand and intertwining them together.

“… its easier like this.”

...you didn’t have the courage to let go

no words were exchanged between you two the rest of the time, but when you had gotten home, a badly written “I like you.” had been written on the top half of your notebook with badly drawn hearts and flowers... 

❤︎   arataki itto (obnoxious delinquent)

every time you would walk home from school, you would pass by the notorious ‘arataki gang,’ which became unpopular for their supposed mischievousness. the gang was led by arataki itto, a very tall and muscular man, strong enough to tower over even your teachers. 

numerous egregious rumours surrounded the guy, some students said he was part of the yakuza because of those reddish tattoos he bore, others said he bullied kids and took their cash just to buy some cigarettes with his gang... you couldn’t help but think he was someone you shouldn’t ever cross paths with. 

that was until you were suddenly face-to-face with the guy, seemingly having no way of escape. 

you were simply on your way back to your class from the cafeteria when  you caught sight of a cute little cat in the school’s garden. seeing as there was a bit more time till your break had ended, you sneakily followed the cat until it stopped right at the back of the empty gymnasium. 

if you hadn’t been there from the start, you’d think that these guys were torturing the cute kitty cat... but it seems that they were just very aggressive when it came to expressing their love for the animal. after all, they were feeding the cat their entire lunchboxes, and much to the cat’s enjoyment, were spinning it around in glee. 

“hey, are you spying on us or somethin’?! don’t think i didn’t notice you from back there, punk!” 

you were startled out of the little bush you were hiding in and immediately apologized profusely to the whitehead in front of you, whose red eyes looked at you almost accusingly. 

“well, why didn’t you say so! if you wanted to help us take care of little old nimble ninja over here then you shoulda just asked!” 

after letting out a rambunctious laugh, he roughly pulled you in for a handshake, welcoming you to his supposed gang, stating himself as the ‘head honcho’ and introducing all 3 of his ‘underlings’ as well... you surmised that perhaps everyone had gotten the arataki gang all wrong.

you had to say, the next few weeks were very eventful, to say the least. you spent your entire breaks hanging out (against your will on some occasions) with the infamous arataki gang. all your classmates asked if you were being bullied, or if you were a delinquent as well... you didn’t have the heart to tell them that you and itto were simply feeding a school stray he named ‘nimble ninja’ 

contrary to popular belief, itto did none of the things he was rumoured to be doing. those red ‘tattoos’ he adorned? actually, he just said he wanted to look cool, like one of those metal bands on tv! when you asked if he was part of the yakuza, he screeched like a little girl and hugged you in his arms, desperately telling you to never utter the word again or else both of you would be ‘assassinated’ and, when you mentioned the circling rumours about him and his gang’s deeds, itto burst into tears, clinging on to you and telling you that he would never do such a thing... and you believed him, because this giant softie couldn’t even kill a fly that flew around you two as he wept. 

at one point, you didn’t even think itto was capable of violence... but not even itto could stay pacifistic in the face of a clear threat. 

one lunch on your way to you and itto’s usual meeting place, you had seen a bunch of students poking fun at nimble ninja, throwing insults and hurling a few pebbles at her. 

seeing the little cat cower in fear, you immediately rushed in to save her, not even thinking twice about getting hit yourself. unfortunately, the delinquent’s attention went from the cat to you, and now it seemed you didn’t have the chance to escape. 

slowly, the leader of the group slowly backed you into a corner, threatening you and your cat. you tried your best to resist, but there was nothing you could do being surrounded by delinquents stronger than you. 

“just whaddya think you’re doing to her?” 

a threateningly low voice interrupted the tension in the air. you could tell that the gang members were terrified of itto’s tall and intimidating stature. right now, itto’s long hair was tied up, his sleeves were folded, and his crimson eyes were looking directly at the leader who cornered you. 

“don’t even think about getting even an inch near her... i’ll give you 3 seconds to scram, boys.” 

you could tell the leader was a bit hesitant to leave, but as soon as all his underlings fled, he made a run for it. 

feeling the adrenaline wear off, you sunk to the hard ground, still carefully holding nimble ninja in your arms. 

“hey, are you? did those guys do anything to hurt you?!” 

itto immediately rushed over to your side, careful not to touch you in case you were injured. though, when you had said you were alright. the muscular man immediately let out a large sigh and hugged you and nimble ninja tight in his arms. 

“that scared the hell out of me... hehe, I didn’t know what to do if they actually tried to fight me y’know” 

he laid his chin on top of your head, still holding you tight. you could feel his hands shaking, probably from fear... you had to hold in your laugh. if he was so scared, why did he put up such a front?

“I just couldn’t let you, an honored member of the arataki gang, get bullied like that! I'm your boss, I should be especially reliable!” 

itto pulled back and faced you, his crimson eyes in front of yours. your noses were almost touching with the proximity. 

“but... it’s probably because I like you as well, I hope you know that.”  

a/n. I hate this LOL though I hope you guys enjoyed at least a little

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Congrats on 1000 you deserve 10000000 and I love you very many ♥️ for the requests:

J, mafia AU, smut, ring

You know how I like it 😉😘

Mickala!!! 😍😭💖

Thank you so much, I couldn't have made it without all of your lovely support. I'm so happy to have found you as a friend. Hope you enjoy my silly little Mafia AU!

Coup d'etat

Rated: E

Words: 999

Tags: Mafia AU; dark Eddie Munson; intrigue; blood and violence; bondage; nudity; explicit sexual content; consensual non-con

“Nice pool,” Eddie drawls, walking back from the patio into the house. “Could’ve made a bit more of an effort to clean it. I said to leave the place as you’d like to find it, Dick.”

Richard Harrington’s eyes scream bloody murder, but he doesn’t dare speak. Jeff and Frank have him flanked on either side, guns ready in their holsters, and Gareth is manning the door. Just a precaution. Harrington has been in the business for long enough to know he has lost. All of his most loyal henchmen are dead or on the run, and the more fickle ones have joined Eddie’s side.

“Aw, don’t pout.” Eddie pats the man's cheek jovially. “This is just how it works. Survival of the fittest and all that. Now, I believe that concludes our little tour of the house? Or am I forgetting something?” 

Harrington’s face twitches. Jeff laughs and rolls his eyes. 

“The bedroom, Eddie?”

“Ah, of course!” Eddie snaps his fingers, like he only just remembered. “Shall we, gentlemen?”

*

A giant bed dominates the far wall of the master bedroom. On the mattress, wrists tied to the headboard, is a boy. The soft, muted light glows off his naked skin. 

“Ah,” Eddie mutters. “That’s what I’m talking about. Turns out you can follow directions.”

Harrington says nothing. The boy, who stopped tearing at his restraints when he heard the door open, stares at him with wide, panicked eyes. 

“Dad? What- … Who are those people?”

Eddie coos. With a few long strides, he’s at the bed, sinking down onto the mattress. One of his hands finds the boy’s bare ankle, sliding up his leg to a firm, freckled thigh.

“Aw, darling. He didn’t tell you?” 

“Tell me what? Leave me alone, perv!”

The boy tries to shy away from his touch, but he doesn’t get far, bound in place as he is. Eddie chuckles. 

“Shhh, honey,” he scolds, cradling that pretty face with both hands. “It's okay. The name's Eddie, I work for your dad. Well, worked.”

The boy blinks at him, hazel eyes large and confused. Eddie laughs softly.

“See, the firm’s under new management. My management, to be more specific. I’m trying to keep it minimum bloodshed, so your old man’s gonna make himself scarce and I’ve agreed not to bother him. In return, I get to keep this fine house … and everything in it.” 

Understanding dawns in those pretty eyes. 

“No! Don't- don't touch me. Stay away from me.” 

Eddie makes a soft shushing sound and wipes the first tears away as they spill over.

“Oh no, sweet thing. It’ll be alright, I promise. I’ll take such good care of- wait a sec.” 

Because one of his hands has just slipped up to the boy's temple, fingers carding through thick, chestnut hair - only to come away red and sticky. The boy flinches, but Eddie grabs his jaw, holding him in place so that he can comb his hair aside. There’s a large, bleeding bruise on his temple. For a moment, the only sound in the room is that of the boy's hitched breathing. 

“Dick?” Eddie growls. “Explain this?” 

“He fought back,” Harrington mutters defiantly. “What was I supposed-” 

Eddie has him up against the wall, gun to his throat, before he can finish the sentence. 

“Are you kidding me? Trying to slip me damaged goods? I should fucking kill you, you son of a-” 

“Eddie,” Frank mutters. “C'mon, man.”  

Eddie blinks. 

“Right,” he says. “Get him out of my sight.” 

Relief washes over Harrington’s face as the gun disappears from his throat - only to be replaced by incredulous horror a second later, when Eddie holds out his hand before his face, palm up. 

“Go on, Dick. It's traditional, right? A sign of respect.”

Harrington growls. His hands curl into fists. Eddie smirks, raising an expectant eyebrow. Then, quickly, as if the touch will burn him, Harrington bows his head and kisses Eddie’s rings. 

“Not so hard, was it?” Eddie calls after him as he is escorted out. The door clicks shut. 

Eddie's smile slips. 

“Shit, Stevie,” he breathes. He's back on the bed in an instant, tilting the boy's head with gentle fingers to look at the injury. “What'd you go and do that for? I told you not to fight.” 

“And I told you it had to look convincing,” Steve retaliates. “Was I just supposed to let them tie me up and tear off my clothes and thank them for it?” 

Eddie's mouth twists into a grin. 

“We both know that's how you like it, honey.” 

He leans in, claiming those plush lips for a long, filthy kiss. Steve puts up a brief symbolic struggle, but Eddie growls warningly and slips a hand between his legs, and his protests turn into the sweetest little moans. Eddie only allows them to part once they're both out of breath and Steve is starting to buck and grind in his hold.

“Everything went well, then?” Steve asks. His voice is hoarse and raspy, and he needs to stop halfway through for another moan. “The- … the security codes all worked?” 

“Flawlessly, you sly little minx,” Eddie murmurs. He bites down on the perfect stretch of that long throat, rolls Steve’s balls in his hand, and delights in the full-body shiver it gets him. “That old asshole didn’t know what hit him.” 

Steve lets out a breathy laugh, rolling his hips to meet Eddie’s touch. 

“Good. Now untie me, so we can celebrate.” 

“Oh?” Eddie smirks, crawling further down and leaving a trail of biting kisses all over the soft skin of Steve’s chest and stomach. “But I am celebrating already.” 

Steve groans. “Eddie, c’mon!” 

“Ah-ah-ah, Stevie. There’s people out there who think I’m gonna ravage you tonight,” Eddie tuts, grabbing the boy’s twitching hips and blowing a warm stream of air on that pretty, flushed cock. Steve fucking mewls. The sound is like the sweetest music. “Be a good boy now. Gotta make it convincing, no?”

Part 2

More celebration ficlets

[yuriisclumsy]

╰ Description: Snaps from my Google Doc "Thoughts and Ideas." It's a diary with some thoughts that come from my mind when they are being intrusive–AKA thoughts I have at 1 AM. Separate from other works, unless It's for a series. Putting this just to clarify misunderstandings.

What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland?

╰Description: [Name] is one of the top mage in Twisted Wonderland, right after Malleus Draconia.

Part 1 (You are here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

—April 8, 2024—

Thought… What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland. Like, there is a venue at NRC with everyone invited. Even parents were allowed entry. So the parties PACKED. And then a murmur amongst the students gave rise to a NEW racked mage, saying it was a girl in her teens. Then, an announcement was made, that there was a new Top Rank list.

EVERYONE was shocked. I mean, Imagine that the last change for this list was over 10 years ago, the youngest and last on the list being 32 years old. And all of a sudden, there is a new member on the list? Firstly, it is very difficult even REACHING the top 100, let alone the top 10. Just who is this girl?

As they announced the new list, they went from bottom to top, starting from 10. Number 10, (is now the previous 9th place). This stunt people. It wouldn't be that surprising if number ten was the one being replaced. But for it to go one down…means that the girl was in a higher position. Number 9, (previous 8th place). Number 8, (previous 7th place). Number 7, (previous 6th place). Number 6, (previous 5th place). The more people listened, the more wide eyed they got. There was simply no way a young girl got on the top 5 in one go. That’s just impossible. Yet the announcer didn’t stop. Number 5, (previous 4th place). Number 4, (previous 3rd place). Number 3, (previous 2nd place). Number 2…. People were at the edges leaning forward. The first place belongs to The Prince of Thorn Valley, and had been so for the last centuries. Surely this girl couldn't have beat that…right?

The announcer continued, waiting for no one. [Name], [Name] Fairytale. That was the name outered by the announcer. Number 1, Malleus Draconia. To have a young girl be almost in par with THE Malleus Draconia, prince and heir to the throne of Thorn Valley. That was impressive…and terrifying.

Who is she? 

What is she?

A human like that couldn't possibly exist. I mean, she is standing right infront of them, but still. They needed to know where this girl came from, and how she managed to climb to the top of the ranks. Some want to know out of curiosity, others, out of anger and envy. But the worst of them all, was those who think they could use this girl in their schemes. Use her to their gain. Maybe even to get powers never available to them before.

I wonder…. Do they think you're that stupid? That you are just an innocent little girl? Smart enough to fight, but dumb enough to manipulate.

They’re all fools. You’ll just have to prove it to them. A demonstration will suffice, yes?

(Finished 4/11/2024, at 5:37pm)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @scarabiafriend, @sleep-ydragon, @d3sperate-enuf, @elaemae, @lucky-whispers, @kiwiimochi, @emmorphine, @azriel-sama, @amora-ledezma, @writerstrashbin, @marinahavik, @twstwondersforyou, @lunatheroyal, @ririsun, @dyedscarletletter, @kuureii, @otomega, @valacz29, @busy-dadzawa-fish, @sarah22447, @valacz29, @wondering-again. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for Twisted wonderland. Back to The Mind

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[khrollos]

so bad // so good

pairing. atsumu x reader tags. smut (18+ / mdni), loss of virginity, college au, corruption kink (sorta idk?), pet names, dacryphilia

first time with new college boyfriend atsumu ... you're a little nervous though :[ everyone'd laughed at the idea of two of you at first because why would casanova of the century wanna settle down and do little 'boba dates~' with some random girl who'd always have her head in a silly little book :/ they didn't see the way he looked at you with sparkles in his eyes and added an extra inch to his smile when he sees you ...

they don't see the mess you've got atsumu in right now ... making out lazily on his lap this sunday afternoon and before you know you're grinding over his clothed cock .,, 'tsumu's lips are all red and swollen because fuck, if you can't get enough of him ... blonde hair all over the place and eyes hazy as he fights off the urge to cum in his pants when you look at him with a glossy gaze ... "'tsumu ... i wanna ... y'know," you breath out, voice low and squeaky 'cause 'tsumu kisses you so well it's like he's sucked out all the air in your lungs.

n atsumu's grinning ear to ear as your eyebrows furrow cutely—can't fuckin' help the way his cock bulges in his sweats, you're too sweet, asking him all shy and stuff ... drives him fuckin' crazy, yknow? "you wanna what baby? ... wanna fuck?" and atsumu coos so gingerly you think you might melt right on the spot ... melt into his palms and let him swallow you whole 'cause before you know it he's strippin' you bare, shoving his pants down—fuck, his cock's so pretty with that angry red tip and pretty pearls of pre ... 'tsumu's a gentleman through and through though, and he fingers you nice and long, fat fingers making you squirm on his lap as he sucks dark hickeys into your neck, your tits ...

n when he finally replaces his fingers for his cock, you're cryin' into his shoulders ... "'s not gonna fit," you sob and atsumu can't help himself ... just shushing you gently as you sink down on his fat length, trying not to fuck you into the mattress when he sees your cheeks glossy with tears ... you just look so pretty when you cry. he'll make it up to you by eating you out cleaning you up this cuddled in a nice hot bath later ... for now, watching your teeth caught between your teeth, pretty tits heavin' up and down, 'tsumu knows he's just gotta deeper c: