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textmel8r · 1 month

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[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( eighth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugarmommy! reader , sugarbaby! toji , smut , submissive toji , finger sucking , masturbation , oral sex (f!receiving) , profanity

୨୧˚ an; so not happy with my writing in this one, probs will rewrite it one day but here, have a couple thousand words of smut🗣️ this is lowkey another filler but lowkey not at the same time? i wanted to fit in another intimate moment before shit goes south awooooooo

You were not fibbing when you said you knew your way around the kitchen. “Holy fuck,” Toji all but moans, tearing into another piece of tender meat with his canines. It was juicy and seasoned almost too much, just the way he likes it. He squints across the table, where you eat in tandem with much better manners than he could ever hope to have. “Who taught you how to cook like this?”

You shrug bashfully under his gawking, wiping your mouth with a dainty stroke of the napkin you had placed in your lap. “I traveled a lot in between semesters at college. Italy, France, Denmark…” You list a few more places that Toji wouldn’t be able to point out on a map. “Those European countries do food so good, I guess it inspired me to give my best shot at it as well.” Self taught, huh? Yeah, you seem like the type to succeed in everything you try.

The man nods, ultimately wishing he had more to add. He wishes he had just an ounce in common with you, a smidgen of relatability to offer. But he doesn’t. Toji didn’t finish school. He’s never left Japan. He’s never cooked a damn thing from scratch in his life. You must’ve caught on to his struggle and decided to show mercy by adding, “actually, right now we’re eating steak au poivre.”

“Steak au po–” He cut himself off before inevitably butchering the name. “What is that? French?”

You’re nodding enthusiastically. “That’s right. I happened upon this dish when I was staying in Bordeaux with a few college mates.” There’s a sweet smile tugging sheepishly at your lips as you recall the memory. “I fell in love with it the second I tried it, and asked the manager right then and there for the recipe.”

Toji shakes his head with disbelief, talking with his mouth full of food. “You’re just full of stories, aren’t you?”

“Some would call me experienced, yes.”

His brow raises. Experienced? Was that a come on? Toji gives way to his own quaint smile, jutting his chin toward you. “Say it again.”

“Say what again?”

“Steak au whatever.”

You oblige his request, repeating the name back slowly so he could attempt to grasp it. “Steak au poivre. Now you give it a go.”

Toji finishes chewing the mouthful of peppercorn-laced meat, swallowing it down with a swig of the Château Cheval Blanc you’d poured at the start of the meal. Some fancy French imported wine is what he gathered from the long winded description you waxed as you topped off an extravagant glass for him. Wine never really appealed to the man—he usually went for the harder shit. The type that you knock back from lowball glasses. The type to get you piss drunk after three rounds—but it was all you ever drank. It was safe to say he was becoming accustomed to your tastes. Maybe the sweetness wasn’t so terrible. He clears his throat, putting embarrassingly too much effort into his “steak au poivre.” It doesn’t sound pretty the way it did leaving your mouth, and he grimaces. “Can’t fucking do it.”

“I thought you sounded good.” He scoffs at that, but you click your tongue. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll just leave the French speaking to you.” The plate before him sits scraped clean. You’re still working on your dinner. Fuck, you’re a slow eater. “You know any more?”

“Any more French, you mean?”

He nods along with a gruff hum, swishing his tongue around his teeth, collecting anything left over of that smokiness from the peppered steak.

“Hm. Tu m'as manqué, Toji.” You hide your grin behind the rim of your glass.

Thick forearms crossed over chest, he croons a deep, barely-there chuckle. “I heard my name. Tell me what you said.”

“No way,” you chortle.

“Ah, c’mon. You’re all blushy.” He licks over the chappedness of his lower lip, knowing gaze latched onto your lips. It was hypnotic, your smile. “You say somethin’ dirty about me, ma’am?”

The way in which your eyes widened coquettishly at the accusation had Toji’s heart beating just a bit more erratically. Like a fawn, he thinks. All that was missing on you was a white, cottony tail.

“If I said something dirty, It would have been in a language you could understand.” Finally, you take the last bite off your dish as well. Hopefully that means dinner is officially over; Toji has been craving dessert since he stepped foot in your house and got showered in ‘welcome back’ gifts. “I’m not the type of woman easily embarrassed by my sexuality. I thought you would have picked that up by now.”

He persists. “What are you embarrassed by?”

“Toji.” His name is spoken sharply, a verbal warning that he was tiptoeing the line. Threatening to shatter that layer of thin ice he stood upon. This is what he’s been needing. This is what he’s been fucking needing.

“I’ve been thinking about you, ma’am.” Any semblance of a filter is long gone, melted by the sheer heat of his desire. His limbs feel heavy, hands tumbling into his lap. They rest on the wide surface area of sweatpant-clad thighs, just sitting there. Feeling himself. “This entire week, I’ve been thinking.”

You seem to get the implications of his confession. “In a sexual way?”

“Yeah.” That’s a white lie. To be truthful was to admit that the sexual thoughts Toji let himself think about you were the minority. Objectifying you in the depths of his mind wasn't enough. He thought about your breasts, sure. He thought about your curves, and your ass, and your mouth, and every other body part that would grant him pleasure. But that wasn’t enough for Toji. Fixations of his tended to lead him astray from fantasies, instead breaching carefully saved memories stored within his brain catalog. When he touched himself, it was more or less to remembrances of mundane tasks you’d dealt him in the past. All the times you had bestowed little gifts and knick knacks on a whim just because they reminded you of him. Or when you drag him to the outlets with you for a shopping spree and he’ll act miserable the entire time, but you both knew it was a horribly crafted facade. Or even, like now, when you’d treat him to dinner because you worry over him and his eating schedule. The little things really counted; a revelation that scared Toji shitless, so he opted to ignore those budding, foreign feelings and replace it with familiarity: lust.

“Toji, honey, are you alright?”

What? His breathing pattern was off kilter, and the muscles of his jaw flexed unconsciously. When had he started palming himself? His right hand had grown a mind of its own apparently, because when Toji stole a glance downward, there it was; kneading roughly at the bulge between his meaty thighs. How desperate was he? To go dormant like that, so consumed with the thought of you that he began to instinctually masturbate himself not even five feet away from where you sit. And why… Why wasn’t he stopping?

“Can we fuck now?”

“Oh.” You barely look shocked. Not the slightest bit appalled like he expected you to be. Instead, slide off a ring that took purchase wrapped around your middle finger. A sigh escapes you as you place the band on the table. “I still have more to ask you. I wanted to know how your work trip went.”

Toji shakes his head, something akin to a toddler trying to get fed vegetables. “No.”

“No?”

“I don’t wanna talk about work.”

“Why not?” You frown, leaning forward against the tabletop. “Was it bad?”

He knows what you’re doing. Trying to make him spill any details about his job. Well, he won’t give in.

A heavy sigh slithers out hoarsely from the deepest part of his lungs, and Toji presses his palms to the table, pushing himself up. He stands tall, much like the tent at his crotch, and slinks along the roundness of the dinner table, walking his fingertips across the top all the while. “I don’t want to talk,” he reiterates, breathy and abrasive.

Finally, Toji stands before you. Still, you are seated, unbothered by the towering man’s presence. No, you’re swirling your wine glass sophisticatedly, lips pursed into a narrow line. Like you’re the slightest bit irritated with his persistent defiance.

God, you won't even look at him.

Or maybe, you were never irritated at all. Toji cops a second glance to your lips, finding the faintest ghost of a frown. “You’ve been acting so… so removed. Ever since you left.” Now you’re looking at him; Toji shudders under the intense fire that billows behind your eyes, wide and wetted with worry. “I want you to feel like you can tell me things. I want your trust, Toji.”

You have his trust. Every last crumb of it resides in the palm of your soft hand.

“... And I know that it’s stupid—I’m stupid for wanting that from you. I know what this relationship is, and I know that there are these unspoken boundaries, but I—I can’t—”

It was the first time he’d ever heard you speak with such a volatile expression. There was a tremble of uncertainty in your vocal chords, carrying into the skittish dialogue that tumbled out in rambles. Something about such a show of pity from you, his Y/n, made his guts churn like butter. He can’t listen to this any more. With swiftness, Toji dives down to press his mouth against yours, swallowing the words that die on your tongue. One hand grips the back of your chair, the other holds the roundness of your cheek. He feels your gasp, feels the way your shoulders jolt in surprise, but he doesn’t release you.

This was really only his second instance of kissing you. The first had been in his bed, with his groin pressed to yours, tongue fighting its way to the back of your throat with greedy fervor. This second kiss was anything but greedy, though. Despite the ache that roiled at the base of his stomach, Toji didn’t serve you a kiss that reflected his desire. Tongues never met and spit was never swapped; just lips on glossed lips.

At last, Toji reluctantly peels away. Lipstick residue feels heavy on his mouth, and he knows he probably looks foolish donning remnants of your dark lip lacquer, but he doesn’t move to wipe his skin. The circular bottom of the wine glass clinks as you clumsily set it down, freeing your hands. They branch upwards, finding his face. A pair of thumbs rub the sensitive pads of flesh beneath his eyes, massaging out those ugly, darkened bags that have accumulated as a result of many sleepless nights. It feels orgasmic, the way you handle him.

“I trust you.” The words are out in the air before he has time to think.

You brighten, sunshine hiding in the crevices of your smile. “You mean that?” You ask him, hands petting down the sides of his neck.

He meant it wholeheartedly. The amount of trust left within Toji was scarce. Too many bad people fucked him for life; showed him the meaning of the phrase ‘trust is earned.’ So it really fucking freaked him out how quickly you came to earn it. A little over a year-–that’s how long he’s known you—you’ve have plenty of time to fuck him over. To batter him. And yet, you haven’t. All you’ve ever shown him was kindness and consideration and warmth and everything else Toji never knew how bad he was thirsty for.

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“I trust you, too, Toji.”

He wonders if he deserves that. Because really, what has given you besides his annoyingly closed-off dickhead attitude? He provides fuck all, but you still stick around.

Toji doesn’t say anything. He swoops once more, capturing your lips in a hungrier kiss than before. All the playful innocence is tossed aside, forgotten in lieu of Toji’s devastatingly furious need to consume you. Tongues finally greet each other in a spittle-slicked tango; he dominates yours with ease, worming behind your teeth just to collect your sweet flavor. Wine, he thinks. You taste like your goddamn expensive ass wine.

He feels feverish. One-track minded, hyper fixated on you. On your crossed legs underneath the table. “Fuck,” Toji breathes into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip.

Your hand clashes against the hard wall of his chest, patting it softly. A wordless signal that you need some air, so he retracts. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

The plea goes in one ear and falls right out the other. Toji leeches against your neck, dragging the flat of his wet tongue over that little throbbing pulse point. His teeth grate against your flawless skin, completely none the wiser that you’re even talking to him. You thwack the back of his head, and he lurches into the crook of your shoulder, muffling a groan.

“No marks, I’ve got work.”

His eyes roll, face still burrowed against you. He couldn’t give less of a shit about your job right now.

“Come on, let’s go to my room.” “Gimme a sec.” He’s still licking below your jaw, making his way down. This stupidly lavish house had been cursed with three levels, your bedroom holed up at the very top floor. Like hell Toji was going to part ways with your glorious body so you two could safely make it up the two ridiculous staircases. Fuck that.

“Toji, I’m… serious…” Your raucous pants of anticipation suggest otherwise. Toji has sunken to his knees, crawling beneath the table and finding a home on the floor before your seat. His kneecaps scream in discomfort as they pin heavily to the wooden floorboards, but Toji bears the pain well ( he’d always been somewhat of a masochist ). Your legs are still crossed, one knee hinging over the other.

“Open these.” Two calloused hands cuff around the thinnest parts of either ankle. Your legs were conspicuously smooth; did you shave for him? There is an attempt at delicacy when Toji pries your legs apart, and it makes you giggle.

“Here?” You laugh more. Toji suspects you’re patronizing him in a way. “I haven’t even cleared the table. Are you really so impatient?”

And here Toji thought he exercised his patience well. He didn’t jump your bones the second of his arrival. No, he waited like a good boy until after dinner. “I’ve waited for this the whole week.” Restless hands walk up those porcelain calves, strong and lean from working in high heels. They wander up, hooking beneath the junctures of your knees; Toji uses his celestial strength to his advantage, maneuvering both legs with ease until he’s got them resting comfortably over his broad shoulders. Toji turns, cocks his head to give a serpentine lick to the inside of your thigh. Then a bite. “Don’t make me wait any longer. I’ll fucking die.”

You peer down at him. “Don’t talk like that.” You feel yourself. Small hands groping your chest, sliding lower and lower. “You’re not going to die.”

His mouth feels sticky, like there’s a spoonful of honey under his tongue. “I might.”

Your heel drives into his upper back, an impish little warning that makes him throb all over. “Don’t talk like that, I said.” Those manicured hands have garnered Toji’s full attention. They descend all the way to the hem of your luxurious dress, wrenching into its hem. It’s the sexiest sight Toji had ever seen: you pulling your dress up with the quickness of a sloth, inching the fabric up until it scrunches around the dip of your waistline.

“These are hot,” he murmurs, thumbing the waistband of the scarlet panties. They were tight, sinking into the ample pudge of your hips and soft tummy. So fucking beautiful, he thinks, the contrast between deep red lace and the flesh of which it lays upon. The perfect, little present gift wrapped in a low-rise lace thong. “Bet they cost a pretty penny.”

You spare a breathy exhale through your nostrils. “I don’t look at price tags when I buy things for you.”

You bought these just for him? “You spoil me.”

“You deserve to get spoiled, baby.”

He is so mind numbingly turned on. Sickening tendrils of appetence bleed into his vision, his lust coils around his limbs and guide his movements like a marionette. Toji thumbs your—his—panties to the side, soaking in the sight of that pretty pussy he’s longed to be back inside of since the moment he pulled out. His face is close, so fucking close that he can feel warmth radiate off your core and deepen his flush.

Perhaps this is how he begins his journey of repayment. Ever indebted to you, despite your odd relationship being a mutually agreed upon situation, Toji fears you’ve truly altered him. For the better or worse he isn’t sure yet; all he knows is that you make him feel good. Better than he’s felt in fucking ages. You said he deserves to get spoiled? Well so do you, too.

Toji eats you with erotic vigor, delving into the deepest parts of your cunt with his lascivious tongue. He’ll be the first to admit that he doesn’t possess many skills. He isn’t terribly smart, nor is he gifted with great conversational skills like you. He isn't good at holding a real job. Isn’t very good at expressing himself. Not good at abiding by the law, or staying sober, either. But if ever there was an artistry in which Toji had full confidence he had mastered, it was oral sex.

“Oh, Toji,” you gasped, forcing his face deeper with a hand on the back of his skull. “Right there.”

Toji dug you out, excavating your hole with expertise. One hand slipped up beneath your dress, under your bra, pawing at your breast whilst the other busied itself in his pants. He stroked himself to the heady taste of pussy, fanning your clit with hot puffs of breath. You writhe against his open mouth, hips dancing, hands grabbing.

It’s more enjoyable like this, Toji thinks briefly. To not expect a wad of bills afterward in exchange for his velvet tongue. He eats you for leisure, because he wants to, and because you want him, and no other reason. It’s enough that you both need each other.

Toji groans loosely when you yank his hair, getting off on the way you move his head to your liking. “Suck my clit,” you instruct quietly, and he obliges with upmost obedience, nose nuzzling against the tuft of hair at your pubic bone.

Toji opens his eyes for the first time in a while, then thanks God he did. You look something like a goddess, celestial and righteous in the way your body works against his face. Using him to cure an insatiable desperation, with your lids screwed shut and head tossed back on your shoulders. “Are you gonna cum?” He sits up on his haunches a little taller, a little more alert now to fully experience your orgasm. “Cum in my mouth.”

He begs for it. Begs like a little bitch. Over and over again, mumbling the mantra between rough suctions to your swollen clit. Begging wasn’t like him. His father beat the beggar out of him many years ago, said it was weak to yearn for things so badly. The old man was right, Toji has never felt weaker than he does right now, knelt under the table with his head between your thighs.

“Oh my God.” Your voice is strained thin, each syllable pulled taught. The vice grip on his roots start to sting, follicles ripping from the scalp, but doesn’t tell you to stop. “Toji, fuck you’re so good.”

He’s good.

“You’re so good.”

“Mmn.” He squeezes himself, chokes his dick hard. Toji feels it when you cum. Warmth floods the cavern of his slack mouth, gushing and creamy. You fall silent, stunned by the force of your orgasm he presumes. Toji licks you through your high, guzzling down every drop of wetness that seeps from your spasming slit. It’s hot and gushy and messy; cum dribbles past his lips, collecting in beads that roll down his tensing neck.

Only when you blindly push at his face does Toji part ways with your center, leaning past your trembling hand to nuzzle into your stomach. It’s concave with an ongoing exhale; he nips at your navel. “Breathe.”

“Toji,” you whisper. On the come down, you’re a lot nicer; those needy, grabbing hands of yours now stroked down the tangled mess of his damp shag. He presses a handful of sloppy smooches above your belly button.

The erection trapped in the confines of his pants twitch at the dreadfully angelic drawl of his name. “Good?” His question is gruff and pointless as ever; anyone with eyes could tell you just had the most Earth-shattering orgasm of your life.

Your head lolls forward, rolling down to face him. Fingertips brush his chin, collecting the sticky residuals that dampened his stubble. You take your lower lip in between teeth when you bring those same soaked digits to Toji’s open mouth. He doesn’t resist you. Fingers are welcomed; he unhinges his jaw, baring the same holy tongue that just drove you to Heaven. You wipe cum-ridden fingers against the muscle, and Toji clamps around them in a vacuum-esque suction, looking up at you through dark lashes all the while. Your thumb traces the raised flesh on his upper lip. That ugly, jagged scar.

He catches your wrist when you move to flee his mouth, holding you in place. Sucking on you, touching himself along the way. Lapping between fingers, tonguing the thin web of skin there.

“So good, baby boy.” There’s the praise he craved, the praise he played oblivious to get. You claw deeper, jutting towards the back of his throat, pulling a scratchy gag from the man. What kind of fetish was this? You made everything sexy, even whatever this humiliation ritual was; watching him choke down slippery fingers with fat tears bleeding at his waterline. “You are so beautiful, Toji.”

“—oh en nah,” or no I’m not had there not been a barrier blocking his teeth from touching. Toji knows he’s an aged man, one riddled with scars and wounds and bruises and gauges and what have you. His skin is nowhere near perfect, baring disgusting reminders of what he does—who he is. Beautiful is what he’d call someone like you. Someone calm and serene, humble and kind. You’re a beautiful sight, and you’re also the complete and utter opposite of him.

“You are.” He wanted to be inside you for this. Toji had been daydreaming this scenario over and out in his head over the long haul of the week, going through the motions of his plan to fuck you. He’d give you everything tenfold, a barbaric fucking unlike your first time together. He imagined finally showing you his version of things, bending you over the couch first thing and blowing his load deep into your cunt.

Toji choked again, and a single thick tear fell from his lashes. You whispered sweet prayers, holding his face, wiping his eyes, fucking his mouth with fingers that tasted of your cum. It was a damn mystery how you rendered him so fucking pitiful, to be nutting on his knees into his boxers like this. A damn mystery.

His breaths are ragged when he explodes, hand and cock obscured by the sweatpants that sat low around his hips. Toji doesn’t stop pumping, tugging the shaft with long, hard strokes, wringing himself dry. Dark eyes weld shut, and he collapses against your thigh with a quake of exhaustion. Toji doesn’t know when you withdrew your fingers; the only tell that gave it away was the string of saliva that slapped coldly against his chin in the wake of your removal. He mewls, a graveling sound that sounds as if his voice box had been dragged through a sea of razor blades.

“You alright?”

A flowery hand slithers beneath his damp cheek, and suddenly his heavy head is being lifted. Toji is forced to meet your soft gaze; adoration brims in your eyes, as though you’re proud of him for creaming in his briefs like some flimsy virgin.

“Answer me, please.”

Toji smacks his mouth, preparing for his voice to project broken and fragmented. “I’m fine.” He could do without the pity; you were cautious to a fault. He wasn’t made of glass.

“You’re filthy.”

He grumbles, feigning grumpiness and averting his eyes off to the side. “I just had your pussy in my mouth.”

You bend at the waist, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. Toji melts against you, cradling your face with his semen-stained hand. You don’t seem to mind the wetness. He’s pouting against your mouth, childlike. “I wanted to cum inside you.”

You latch onto his nose, nibbling the point. “Let’s go clean up.” There’s a telling smile etched onto your lips, and your mouth finds his ear. Whispering ever so sensually, “I have a big shower in my bedroom.”

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tags . • @4imhry @sugurubabe @mastermasterlist1p1 @mikisspeak @fluttershyfangs @iluv-ace @xstom @bratbby333 @mizzfizz @sserafin @wo-ming-bai @maexc @r0semultiverse @r0ckst4rjk @aesukuni @taelattecookie @purple-obsidian @hqtoge @khaothick @saintkaylaa @ya9amicide @crayzyaarna @saiki-enthusiast @haesify @nyamocka @sixxze @lifesucksweswallow @darkstarlight82 @megumisdivinedogs @celestialol @yunho-leeknow @ghostfacefricker6969 @aizawa19 @lupicalbestwolf @nymphsdomain @makuzume @killerkinnie

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 9 months

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The Little Things

A Travis Kelce Instagram AU

A/N: just wanted to try an AU for the first time

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Liked by donnakelce, kyliekelce, user and 25k others

yourusername family time ❤️

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killatrav I never take these days for granted

yourusername love you so much babe 😘

traviskelcefan87 my favorite family 🥹

kyliekelce we need to see you guys again soon!

yourusername as soon as the season is over we're heading to Philly! Miss you guys 🥰

Liked by user, user, user and 50k others

killlatrav keep it chill like Sauvignon Blanc

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yourusername 😮‍💨 let's get started on baby #4

killatrav I'm having them turn the plane around now baby yourusername I'll have your mom watch the kids killatrav all right nah

user I hate the mustache 😣

yourusernamefan good thing its not for you then. I'm sure yourusername loves it or Travis wouldn't still have the mustache

yourusername 😉 He's not allowed to shave it anytime soon

Liked by jasonkelce, brittanymahomes, user, and 5k others

yourusername the parents finally got away and got up to no good

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killatrav love my baby girl

yourusername love you too baby boy

donnakelce come back with another grandchild! You can never have to many

yourusername trust me I'm trying killatrav mom please 😩 jasonkelce watching this unfold is hilarious

brittanymahomes the two of you are so cute!

yourusername we need to do a couples trip when the season is over! brittanymahomes yes!!

yourusername added to their story

Liked by user, patmahomes, yourusername, and 12k others

killatrav ended this amazing trip watching the sunset with the love of my life

yourusername how did I get so lucky? yourusername I miss the kids though 😢 killatrav me too can't wait to hug them tomorrow

traviskelcefan87 beautiful!

donnakelce stay longer! We're having so much fun with the grandkids!

killatrav don't worry mom there will be plenty of opportunities for you to watch them yourusername how would you feel about watching one more? user is this yourusername admitting that she's pregnant??!?! killatrav we'll talk about it on the pod this week 😉

Liked by yourusername, killatrav, user, and 532 others

donnakelce had such a fun week with the grandkids! we went to see the Little Mermaid and spent a lot of time at the pool

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yourusername my babies 😘

killatrav wow Nannah and Bubba actually getting along. glad you got that on camera

donnakelce they were absolute angels for me

yoursistersusername Nannah and Lay Lay's matching outfits are so cute!

kyliekelce they've gotten so big!

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#travis kelce #travis kelce insta au #travis kelce fanfiction #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce fanfic #nfl fanfiction #nfl imagine #nfl instagram au #travis kelce instagram au

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fayes-fics · 5 months

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When The World Is Free: Chapter 3 - C’est Un Gars

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none... just some instant attraction and flirting ;)

Word Count: 2.6k

Author's Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is when reader and Benedict finally meet. Yep, that's the whole chapter. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy! <3

Paris, September 1939

Benedict doesn't turn up the next day. Or the day after that. Some snag with travel arrangements that Eloise doesn't explain, and you don't pry. You suspect she championed any excuse for him to delay his trip. But it does mean his arrival is not particularly front of your mind as the days slip by.

It's a week later - after an exhausting workday in uncomfortable shoes - when you get home and notice the door is unlocked. Assuming it's Eloise, you enter the apartment distractedly, reading a flyer you picked up on your journey home.

“El, did you see this?” you call out without looking up, dropping your bag as you unbuckle your T-strap heel, the relief to your foot palpable, flinging the first aside. “There is a new jazz night in Montmartre… I think we should go, seeing as your troublesome brother is never turning up…”

“He is actually…” a refined, resonant voice calls out from across the room with a wry tone. There, silhouetted by the bright window, is the outline of a tall man.

You stumble in shock, twisting your ankle quite heavily as you remove the last shoe, and he rushes forward to your aid, large hands grasping your waist, stopping you from falling down and righting your stance. His hold is gone as soon as you are stable.

Discombobulated and embarrassed, you find yourself staring up into the most handsome face you have ever seen in your twenty-two years on earth, tongue-tied and awkwardly holding your right shoe. Not the introduction you would want with anyone.

“Benedict?” you squeak, mouth rapidly running dry.

“The very same,” his acknowledging smile is crooked, and something gallops hard through your chest. “Y/n, I presume?”

All you can do is nod. You can see the family resemblance - chestnut hair, blue eyes, a proud jaw - but damn if this is not the most fetching male version of Eloise’s prettiness. Tall and broad-shouldered, he looks very dashing in a royal blue three-piece suit with a crisp white shirt and burgundy and gold striped tie.

“Are you alright?” his forehead creases in concern as he nods to your ankle.

“I… I think so?” you stutter. There is a slight throb there, but it's almost background to the riot in the rest of your body at the very sight of this man.

Oh god, Eloise is going to disown me…

Her warning from last week is ringing in your ears as you attempt a step but can't hide the wince at the bloom of pain as your weight transfers.

“Hmmm, I think that's a no,” he hums. “Come, take my arm, let's get you seated and this foot raised…..”

And so you find yourself clinging to the arm he offers, feeling the latent power under the layers of fabric as he provides a solid brace to lean on. Still a touch mortified, you drop onto the sofa as elegantly as you can, raising your ankle onto the coffee table and sighing with relief. You don't miss how his eyes linger briefly on your stockinged leg before he bustles over to your refrigerator and grabs a chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

“Here, this should help,” he explains as he walks back.

“Drink until it doesn’t hurt anymore?” you guess drolly.

His responding laugh is warm and crinkles his eyes so beguilingly. “Stop the swelling,” he explains as he slides to sit on the coffee table next to your leg and presses the bottle against your ankle.

You hiss gently behind your teeth, the coolness seeping through your stocking. Your eyes meet, and you swear his dilate a fraction, the hand not holding the bottle wrapping around the inside of your ankle to align your foot better, long elegant fingers cupping your arch. Just that simple touch is enough to make your pulse race. Something about this man feels electric. Like standing beside a humming pylon, an energy coursing through you.

“It’s nice to finally meet the artist,” you murmur, gesturing to the artwork you know so well now.

His eyes track to the painting, and his face lights up. “You like it?” his tone so hopeful.

“It's beautiful,” you confess, a tingle where you can feel the warmth of his fingers flexing around your foot, contrasting to the cold of the bottle.

“Thank you,” he demures, bowing his head and looking up at you through his lashes, a dot of colour high on his cheekbones.

“What the….”

You both twist to see Eloise standing in the doorway, mouth agape. Benedict’s hand flinches away from your foot, and you realise it must look more incriminating from her angle, unable to see the cold compress. All she sees is him sitting on the coffee table, grasping your leg as you talk softly to each other….

“El! Hi!” you call, attempting a breezy tone, “I tripped on my way in, and Benedict here was just helping me. I’m okay,” you add preemptively.

He jumps up from the coffee table and indeed indicates your injury. Eloise nods to acknowledge it, then narrows her eyes at him before walking over and giving him a quick embrace, kissing his cheek.

“Hello, brother. I was hoping you would never show up,” she greets sardonically.

“Hello, little sister, always such a warm welcome…” he drawls.

You can’t help but giggle at their exchange, and both seem pleased to have entertained you, twinkles in their similar eyes.

“Well, this rather scuppers tonight’s dancing plans…” Eloise motions at your ankle.

“You and Solene go without me. Why not take Benedict, too?!”

“I’ve had a full day of travel. I’d rather not…” he confesses when Eloise looks at him expectantly.

“Spoilsport,” she rolls her eyes. “Where are you staying?”

“I haven’t booked anywhere...” he confesses, looking a touch sheepish. as you clock a suitcase against the wall.

“Well then, your choices are to find a hotel now or sleep on our sofa,” she shrugs.

“If it means it will get you packed quicker, I’ll stay right here,” he answered pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

“Brother, have you ever been to Paris before?” You can tell Eloise is winding up for one of her persuasions with that opening gambit, so you chuckle and relax back into the sofa, crossing your arms, about to enjoy the show.

“Is this going to be a two-minute or a ten-minute Eloise soliloquy?” he misdirects dryly, catching your eye and winking, which makes your heart skip.

Undeterred by both of your reactions, Eloise launches into her argument. “I know for a fact you haven’t, so let me say this. You are an artist. This is the art capital of the world. It would literally be irresponsible for you not to stay a while. Enjoy the galleries. Soak up the atmosphere. Get inspired. Hell, y/n here works in a gallery and has quite the encyclopedic knowledge of all the artists on display in the city - a literal font of knowledge…” As she extols your virtues, his eyes cut to you, an admiration and curiosity in them that makes your lungs feel tight, “…I would personally judge you for not staying. At least a week? Maybe two…”

“Delay tactics, El,” he sighs, but even you can see him wavering.

“Paris may not always be here, at least not as it is now,” you append, unwilling to look at him as you say it, looking out across the rooftops wistfully. “The art truly is spectacular, and if war comes to its doorstep in the next few months, who knows what could happen? You may regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t experience at least some of it.” Your focus back in the room as you look upon his art again. “Someone who paints something that beautiful deserves to see the old European masters up close…” you end on a shrug.

His gaze feels heavy like a cloak as Eloise waves her hands towards you. “Yeah… THAT,” she adds with finality.

Benedict sighs and tips his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows heavily.

“Fine. Three days,” he capitulates. “But, Eloise, you must be packed and ready to leave by then. I mean it. I don’t need Mother’s wrath about this…” his warning avuncular.

“Promise,” she smirks, before grinning and whooping in victory, doing a little jig as he shakes his head with exasperated affection.

“Prêt à aller?” Solene's face appears around the doorframe, her face made up for a night out.

“Not for me,” you pout as she opens the door fully. “ I twisted my ankle. But I’m pretty sure Eloise wants a bit more victory dance time,” you smile as Eloise nods furiously, still swaying.

They all offer to help you to your room, but you steadfastly refuse, confident you can hobble to bed when the time comes. Wishing them all well, you’re looking forward to some quiet alone time after an eventful day.

—

Half an hour later, you are reading a book and feasting on brie and crackers when there is a soft knock at the door.

“Come in?” your call is tentative, unsure who might be knocking this late.

You frown as a key jangles in the door, then a warm flush down your spine as Benedict appears in the doorway, suitcase in hand.

“Eloise gave me a spare key. The hotel is fully booked for tonight,” he grimaces apologetically.

“Sofa it is?”

“Appears so…”

“So there’s only one hotel in the whole of Paris, then?” you tease softly as he removes his hat and drops his case.

“Only one in close enough proximity to ensure Eloise doesn’t have time to pack and up and abscond to god know where before I can intervene, yes…” that crooked grin reappearing.

“I’d never let her do that!” you gasp in mock outrage. “At least not without taking me too….”

He laughs heartily and moves to the counter to grab two wine glasses and a bottle opener, asking silently with an eyebrow raise if you want to join in, which you enthusiastically agree to.

“What will you do? When we leave?” He asks over the glugging sound of the glasses being filled.

“My family has told me to move up my return sailing to as soon as possible…” you can’t hide the disappointment in your tone. “I know I should do it… I just…”

“…Don’t want to give up on something before you even know how much you need it?” He guesses as he hands you a glass.

You are momentarily floored by how accurately he has pinpointed your feelings.

“Yes,” your reply is quiet but emphatic, a jolt to your being as your fingers brush while taking the drink, “that’s exactly it!”

“I understand…” and there is a world of empathy in his tone, raising his glass in silent toast, which you mirror. “But time isn’t on your side…” he reminds after a sip, “a few weeks, months if we are lucky, and Paris may well be invaded.”

“England too…”

“Perhaps, indeed. So you should go. Be safe. Back home to America…”

“What if that’s the very last thing I want?” your whisper is more fervent than you intended.

“That sounds more like a reason you don’t want to go than a reason you want to stay,” he surmises, again frighteningly on target with his assessment of your feelings, almost as if he’s in tune with them somehow. “But yet… Eloise said you’re engaged?” he aims for nonchalant, but you could swear there is dejection too.

“Sort of…” a wave of guilt crashing into you as your thoughts slide to Stanley. Good, reliable, comfortable, safe Stanley.

“How does one become ‘sort of’ engaged?” he frowns bemused, using air quotes.

“Growing up down the street from someone your age whose father happens to be your own father's best friend and business partner?”

“Oh…” there’s a pause, “you’re not being pressured, are you?” his query filled with concern. It makes your ribs glow that he might even care.

“No… just… a life plotted out,” you echo the words Eloise threw at you on your first night here.

“And it’s not the life you want…?”

“I used to think so…,” you sigh, eyes cutting to the side as you feel a swell of a tear forming.

“You have the right to change your mind,” Benedict attests softly as you twirl your glass between your fingers. “You don’t owe anyone else your happiness.”

You want to climb into his lap, grab his jaw and kiss him senseless. The impulse so strong you can feel a tingle where his stubble would abrade your lips if you did so. Suddenly worried you'll act recklessly if you stay any longer, you rise to your feet, make your excuses and limp mildly to your room… laying in bed staring at the ceiling for a long time before sleep claims you.

–

It's the middle of the night when you awaken thirsty and decide to get a glass of water, your ankle much better from the laydown. Half-asleep, you wander out of your room, fumbling towards the kitchen area, when you almost trip for an entirely different reason. Well, perhaps the same reason you tripped in the first place.

There on the sofa, in a shaft of moonlight, is Benedict, fast asleep; his face is so peaceful in repose. But that is not where your eye lingers. He is topless, a blanket pooled around his waist, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. And you cannot look away. He is all smooth planes of skin peppered with occasional moles that your fingertips itch to trace patterns between. His shoulders are indeed broad without a suit, and it's obvious he is somewhat of an athlete; the play of muscle and ribcage as he breathes deep utterly entrancing. It's so completely different to how Stanley looks - hairy and stout - that you drift closer without realising it, drawn to the sight. It's the closest you’ve seen to a breathing Statue of David, a shape you didn't think real humans came in…. until now.

So much so you don't even realise when his eyes flutter open, just transfixed by how his breathing pattern appears to change the flex of his abdominals.

“Are you alright?” his voice is a rough whisper and you startle. His eyes seem to focus, and you notice they flit down your body before he seems to stop himself.

“Sorry,” you stumble in apology, feeling your face flushing violently as your eyes fly to his face, then look away, embarrassed to be caught ogling so obviously.

“Do you need anything?”

Yes, to run my tongue over that divot right there… your mind screams.

“No, no... I just came out to get some water and worried you might be cold uncovered,” you bluster. “I was going to cover you up, but you awoke before I could….”

You are mildly impressed you can come up with an excuse as your heart pounds in your ears. Benedict’s face morphs into an intriguing mix of knowing, lopsided smile and bashfulness, pointedly pulling up the covers until they are tucked under his chin.

“Better?” he rumbles, and you could swear it is with a teasing lilt.

“Much…” you nod before awkwardly turning away.

“Y/n…” he calls softly, and you look at him over your shoulder, a flutter in your belly as you catch him glancing at your bottom.

“What…?”

“I'm glad your ankle seems better,” he offers softly.

“It is, thanks to you…”

“De rien…” his response, low and deep, in a flawless French accent, makes goosebumps break out over your arms.

Damn you, Benedict Bridgerton.

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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chic-a-gigot · 2 months

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La Mode illustrée, no. 15, 12 avril 1896, Paris. Robe en lainage rayé vert-de-gris. Robe en lainage beige. Robe en mohair bleu marine. Robe en taffetas gris. Modèles de chez Mmes Coussinet-Piret, rue Richer, 43. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

Robe en lainage rayé vert-de-gris.

La jupe unie est faite en lainage rayé, la basque du corsage assez longue, plissée derrière, fendue plusieurs fois sur les hanches, s'écarte devant de façon à laisser voir un gilet long et pointu en soie côtelée crème, orné de petites poches encadrées de galons vert-de-gris. Le corsage est garni de larges revers en soie crème, encadrés de galons. On pose sur le gilet de la gaze crème, terminée au bord supérieur sous un nœud de gaze. le col droit est entouré d'une fraise en gaze. Les manches sont ornées de boutons.

Chapeau en crin blanc, garni de nœuds crème et de roses nuancées.

Verdigris striped wool dress.

The plain skirt is made of striped wool, the basque of the bodice is quite long, pleated at the back, slit several times at the hips, spreads at the front to reveal a long, pointed cardigan in cream ribbed silk, decorated with small framed pockets. verdigris braid. The bodice is trimmed with large cream silk lapels, framed with braid. Cream gauze is placed on the vest, finished at the upper edge under a gauze knot. the straight collar is surrounded by a gauze ruff. The sleeves are decorated with buttons.

White horsehair hat, trimmed with cream bows and shaded roses.

—

Robe en lainage beige.

Cette robe se compose d'une jupe unie et d'un corsage, plat derrière, froncé devant, terminé par une ceinture. Le corsage est orné devant d'un jabot en dentelle auquel se rattache un col avec ruche en gaze. Les autres garnitures du corsage se composent d'un col en perles brodé sur de la gaze, et de larges revers. Les manches sont garnies de ruches. Le chapeau, fait en paille satin beige, est orné de rubans beige et rouge.

Beige woolen dress.

This dress consists of a plain skirt and a bodice, flat at the back, gathered at the front, finished with a belt. The bodice is decorated in front with a lace frill to which a collar with a gauze ruffle is attached. Other bodice trimmings consist of a beaded collar embroidered on gauze, and wide lapels. The sleeves are trimmed with ruches. The hat, made of beige satin straw, is decorated with beige and red ribbons.

—

Robe en mohair bleu marine.

Robe en mohair bleu marine avec corsage plat et jupe à godets unie. Le corsage, terminé par une ceinture, est orné d'un plastron en guipure brodé de perles, encadré par des garnitures en gaze noire brodée de perles. Les manches sont ornées de revers semblables; le col droit est garni d'une fraise en dentelle.

Toque en tulle de soie noir, garnie d'une couronne de fleurs de pommier, et de rosaces en dentelle.

Navy blue mohair dress.

Navy mohair dress with flat bodice and solid godet skirt. The bodice, finished with a belt, is decorated with a guipure bib embroidered with pearls, framed by black gauze trims embroidered with pearls. The sleeves are decorated with similar cuffs; the straight collar is trimmed with a lace ruff.

Black silk tulle hat, garnished with a crown of apple blossoms and lace rosettes.

—

Robe en taffetas gris.

Cette robe, en taffetas gris, a une jupe large, fendue de chaque côté deux fois jusqu'aux hanches; les fentes sont remplies avec du taffetas gris plus foncé, plissé. Les bords de l'étoffe par devant, bordant les plis, sont ornés de boutonnières simulées et de boutons en nacre grise.

Le corsage est garni derrière d'une basque courte ondulée; il forme un corselet devant. Le bord supérieur du corsage par devant est couvert par de la soie fine plissée; on y pose en outre un morceau de passementerie terminé en pointe. Les manches sont ornées de revers en dentelle et de boutons; on fait retomber sur le col droit des morceaux de dentelle.

Chapeau rond en paille grise, garni de rubans gris et de plumes rouge ombrées.

Gray taffeta dress.

This dress, in gray taffeta, has a wide skirt, slit on each side twice to the hips; the slits are filled with darker gray, pleated taffeta. The edges of the fabric at the front, bordering the pleats, are decorated with simulated buttonholes and gray mother-of-pearl buttons.

The bodice is trimmed behind with a short wavy basque; it forms a corselet in front. The upper edge of the front bodice is covered by fine pleated silk; a piece of trimmings finished in a point is also placed on it. The sleeves are decorated with lace cuffs and buttons; pieces of lace are placed on the right collar.

Round gray straw hat, trimmed with gray ribbons and ombré red feathers.

#La Mode illustrée #19th century #1890s #1896 #on this day #April 12 #periodical #fashion #fashion plate #description #Forney #dress #gigot #collar #Modèles de chez #Madames Coussinet-Piret

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soundspeachytome · 7 months

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dusty and fraulein (shohei ohtani au)

summary: your asshole cat falls in love with your new next-door neighbor and takes shelter in his front porch while displacing his poor dog, dusty, and a whole lot of chaos in between ensues.

tropes: enemies to lovers, next door neighbor dynamics, dog parent x cat parent, fake dating, small town romance, pure, pure fluff and romance only.

word count: 11.2k

this is far from my original writing style but i hope you have fun reading as much as i had writing this! (if there are any inconsistencies, sorry in advance!)

other notes: i had patterned the two characters loosely after lorelai and luke and stars hollow as the town. *swoon!*

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

=================================

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You squint through the harsh back light of your phone and see the time: 8:47 AM. It is barely brunch and you hear loud music and conversation from outside your bedroom window. You pull the covers over your head and try to go back to sleep but the sound of a hammer being pounded on wood disrupts your journey back to dreamland.

It also doesn’t help that your head also feels like someone is drilling it into concrete. For a split second, you wonder why you even let that much alcohol enter your system on a Friday night, and why no one stopped you when you were such a lightweight. You try to remember the events from the night before and then it hits you: you caught your boyfriend–now ex!--sexting with an intern at his office through the messages on his phone. You were not the type to scour through your boyfriends’ phones but it was supposed to be dinner date night with pasta and Sauvignon Blanc when Jack’s phone lit up from the kitchen counter. You were busy preparing cutlery when the phone dinged again. You thought it was important from work and since you had been very open and comfortable with each after a year of dating, taking a peek would not hurt.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw.

Jack, despite being a successful finance analyst, the smart, bookish type, the one who can compute numbers in his head in about 5 seconds or less, apparently was not smart enough to keep his notifications hidden or at least try and cover them up like a serial cheater would. Not that you wanted him hiding anything from you, but at that moment, seeing the thirst traps and the disgusting follow-up sexts from his notifications bar were enough for you to hurl his precious PS5 from the fifth floor of his apartment building and leave the crime scene with the wine and pasta in tow.

You don’t know what happened after because you left while he was still in the shower, his apartment thrashed, with a note which you left that says, “For the record, I faked all my orgasms during our sexy time. Veronica ❤️ seems to love your *mini* performance though! PS. If you’re looking for your PS5, try looking down from the balcony, asshole.”

Love is a lie, you scoffed. You let the remnants of last night’s hurt consume you for a little bit more and cry under the covers. You cried until your eyes tired, until the weight of your head felt heavier than a bowling ball. You thought about staying in bed for a few more minutes when a boisterous laughter interrupted your thoughts. The laugh was followed by incomprehensible sentences. The voice came from a man probably in his late twenties, deep, jovial and friendly. You couldn’t make out the words from this distance but he sounded like he was giving instructions, volume fading in and out every now and then. Then more manly laughter. You didn’t know why but this person had a distinct laugh that you found very pleasant. You wonder somberly if you could laugh like that again.

You jolted upright and went for the door. You will definitely be happy again soon but first, coffee.

The best hangover fix is a steaming cup of coffee with a plate of bacon and pancakes. You poured yourself a hot mug of coffee and suddenly felt unstoppable, like you’re actually happy, at least temporarily. The pounding in your head has subsided but the drilling from nextdoor hasn’t. You must have new neighbors, the way you’re seeing movers coming in and out of the moving truck parked outside. You tried to catch a glimpse of this neighbor causing all the ruckus but were unsuccessful as the trees lined beside your porch were covering your line of vision. From behind you, you felt your cat, Fraulein, bump her head on your ankles, purring audibly.

“Looks like the new neighbors woke you up too, huh?” She yawned and continued looking up at you.

Fraulein, a female American shorthair of three years, stood around nine pounds with her stocky legs and long, proportioned tail. Her fur was a thick orange coat with faint white stripes covering most of her body. She was nameless when you picked her up from the animal shelter. She was barely five months old at that time and despite being smaller than the other cats, she had snuggled up to you when you reached for a pet. When you scratched her head and heard her purr loudly, you knew right then and there that she was the one for you. She was the friendliest, clingiest and most loveable thing you have in your life, and despite her “orange cat personality” as most people had dubbed, you wouldn’t replace her with anything in the world, not even for your hound dog-looking ex, Jack.

She did a big stretch as you picked her up while you stood idly by the window. As you stared outside, Fraulein’s purring sending you in a trance, you suddenly notice a pair of eyes looking up at you from the front lawn. Those eyes should not be there, and more importantly, the pair of eyes belonged to a dog standing just mere inches from your flowering shrubs, tail wagging. If this dog takes another step, they could ruin the gardenias you’ve been trying to grow.

You step outside and try to shoo the dog away when it suddenly jumps and barks.

“Hey! Get away from my garden!” You try to stay calm as the dog continues to bark and come playfully near the shrubs. Your heart sinks when his paw accidentally steps on the stems of your peonies. You’ve been meaning to pluck them this week so you can replace the wilted ones from your vase.

“Oh my god… Please go away! Shoo!” You desperately waved the dog away but it continued to jump excitedly and roll around, probably thinking you were out there to play. Fraulein, who was still in your arms the entire time, started getting restless and was hissing at the dog’s direction, her untucked claws boring into your skin. That’s when you saw a man, probably over six feet tall, rushing towards the dog. He had thick black hair and the widest shoulders you’ve ever seen.

“Oh my god, Dusty! What are you doing here…” He put a leash on the dog, whose name was probably Dusty, as you have heard, and carried him with one arm.

“I’m so so sorry! I was inside the house and I didn’t realize Dusty escaped from his leash.” His big brown eyes complemented well against his slightly tanned skin. With your obvious height difference, you had to look up at him from a distance without hurting your neck.

“He almost ruined my flowers,” You started to say, eyes still locked in his. If you hadn’t forced yourself to look towards your garden, you would have been sucked into his creamy brown orbs.

You assessed the garden from the mini scuffle. There was a bit of overturned soil from some of the shrubs, especially from the peonies getting the most damage. The stems have been slightly bent, almost breaking from where it stood.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sosososorry! I didn’t mean to–I mean, Dusty’s still young, he’s very playful and…”

“I was planning on cutting them this week, anyway. Your dog has to stay away from my garden, though.” I pointed at the lopsided peonies, almost looking like they have their hands up in the air, waving sideways.

He looked so apologetic that he almost looked like it was his fault. He tightened his grip on his dog, Dusty, who looked so small and well-behaved being cradled by a big-bodied man. Meanwhile, Fraulein has not relaxed one bit after that quick garden mess and had her claws out, clinging to my threadbare sweater.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll keep a tight leash on her. I’m Shohei Ohtani, by the way. We just moved next door, so I guess we’re neighbors now. I’d offer my hand right now, but I’m afraid Dusty would jump out of my grip. ”

Now that you are able to look at his face carefully, you realize that he was fairly handsome. Correctly proportioned face, dreamy brown eyes, and a smile that invited first love butterflies kind of vibe. He was also tall and definitely bulky over that black long-sleeved sweater that was folded up to his elbows. You could tell he dedicates a good amount of time to his body.

“So that explains all this noise so early in the morning.” You say with an almost sarcastic tone of voice. You didn’t mean it and you were willing to forgive them for the morning ruckus but the garden mishap and the mini-heart attack you had for your plants had somehow added to the list of how-to-piss-your-neighbor-on-the-first-day. And you’re really bad at moving past your first impressions of other people.

“Are all cat people always this cranky in the morning?” He commented cheekily, displaying a playful expression in his eyes. This man named Shohei is trying to get to you and it’s definitely working. For a first conversation, it surely is getting on your nerves to be read so openly, and in your own premises, at that.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just an observation. Cat people seemed to be more emotionally charged than dog people.” He said matter-of-factly and continued to smile. He’s handsome but he’s also starting to be annoying as hell. What does he mean by that? Does he want to show off that dog people are better than cat people?

“Well. If we’re going to talk about stereotypes here then I must say dog people are careless people-pleasers who hogs the attention and only cares about being liked and do not give a rat’s ass on taking up other people’s space and boundaries. I’d also offer to shake my hand but I’m afraid my cat right here might scratch your dog’s face for ruining our morning.” You stared hard at him and slowly backed away, returning to your porch steps.

“Nice to meet you, too, I guess! I would suggest chamomile tea and tone down on coffee!” He waved cheerfully, as he exited the lawn and walked towards his home. You turned your heel and slammed the door shut loud enough for him to hear. Fraulein jumped out of your grip and mewed almost as angrily. She darted toward the kitchen and went out of sight.

“What a weirdo… If Fraulein doesn’t like him then I don’t have to like him, too.” You muttered to yourself and moved to the bathroom to take a shower.

You spent your afternoon in the garden, watering and cutting the flowers in full bloom. You wore your oldest t-shirts with a print that says “I Wet My Plants” under your pink square overalls and a sun hat to protect you from the sun. You were listening to your beloved Birdy mix on your headphones as you tended the prettiest flowers in your garden, muting the noise of the world.

I know I was stupid to let what we had go to waste

Why does everything I love always get taken away?

Ghost in the wind calling you to take me home

Ghost in the wind crying, where do I belong?

Can anyone hear me now?

“Can you hear me, Y/N?”

“Agh!”

You almost jumped out of your skin when a hand touched you lightly in the arm. It was Patrick Sandoval, your high school best friend, and sometimes main supplier of Fraulein’s flea medicine. You forgot that he was visiting today.

“Whoa! Extra jumpy today?” he smiled his Colgate-white smile and cocked his head to the side. “Coffee overload, again?”

Suddenly you remembered what your new neighbor had said during your first encounter this morning. Naturally cranky… Tone down on the coffee… He had no idea to be assuming things like that, not when you had just literally met.

“Jack cheated on me and I was hungover, okay?” You grit your teeth through the mention of your ex. Like the stench of his name made the bile climb up your throat. “I decimated his PS5 into tiny cracked pieces.”

“Oh, shit, man.. I’m proud of you.” He put you in a half-embrace and patted your head. “Do you need me to break his legs for you?”

You giggled, arm still locked around his waist. “No, but I took one of his expensive wines so that evens that out for me, I think. I don’t care.”

Patrick looks at you and wonders if he arrived too late today. He notices the dark bags under your eyes and your puffy face, probably a result of crying all night. He wondered if you had been crying all morning, too. He couldn’t help but lean in and give you a full, bear hug.

“Just let me know if you need us to file a restraining order, babygirl.” You snorted and buried your face under his embrace, thankful for the assurance. Patrick has always been your rock since high school. When your first boyfriend ditched you in prom, Patrick was there to rescue you when he wasn’t initially supposed to go; you ended the night with stomachs full of pizza, sparkling soda and belly laughter.

You and Patrick had been for each other’s rarest moments throughout adulthood: gushing about your first times, your first heartbreaks, getting into college, graduation… you even wondered if both of you are just teetering from the sidelines, waiting for each other to do the first move. You always brush the thought away because to do that means risking your friendship with him. You don’t want to lose him, not even as a friend.

“By the way, I’m just here to drop these medicines for dear ol’ Frau that you asked.” He lifted a paper bag with a cute animal picture and his pet shop name printed across it. Paw and Order.

“Thanks, Patrick. I could’ve picked them up if you called.” Patrick has been the sole pet doctor in town which contributed solely to his success. Seeing how much people nowadays prefer taking pets instead of bearing children, he took the opportunity to put up his own pet shop and clinic; you and Fraulein have been number one customers ever since.

“It’s my pleasure, milady.” He did an elegant bow, to which I returned a curtsy, and giggled. “I’m also here to let you know that I’ll be on a business trip for two weeks. So this will be sort of my goodbye.”

“What kind of business trip takes two weeks long?” You don’t really want him to leave, especially with the holidays approaching, you had planned to spend it all with him.

“The kind where your father wants you to venture to a new business spot and spend the holidays with him and his new family.” He shrugged and looked at you, hoping you’d stop him from the impending family mess he’s about to go to, but you only scrunched your nose.

“That sucks, man. You’ll miss all the fruitcakes.”

“I know, dude.” He pouted. “How are Frau's fleas, by the way? Did the medicine work last time?”

“Sure did, she’s better now. Speaking of which, where is that old hag?” You haven’t seen her since early morning’s commotion. The last time you saw her she was napping by the window of your bedroom.

“Just call me if you notice anything weird. The medicines should be enough while I’m gone.”

“Leaving already?”

“First thing in the morning, bub.” He said. “I’ll miss you.”

“Frau and I will miss you, too!” And the two of you embraced in another warm hug. When you both pulled back, he helped you pick up the basket of freshly bloomed flowers you had collected for the day and went back inside the house. You had given him the extra jar of lemon iced tea you’ve been saving for a particularly warm day like this.

~~~

It’s been a whole day that you haven’t seen Fraulein. She usually wanders off hours in a day but she always returns by dinner time. You were starting to worry as the sky slowly turned pitch black. The lampposts turn on, illuminating the streets. You turn the porch lights on, too, and leave her bowl of food and water by the doorstep, in case she decides to come home late into the night.

~~~~

You wake up to a high-pitched yowling outside. You’re not exactly sure where but you know that sound from anywhere. You bolted down the stairs with your sleeping robe undone and ran towards the lawn. You can’t see anything until you hear it again.

“Nyreooow!”

Soon, a dog howls and you run towards Shohei Ohtani’s house.

You see Fraulein perched on top of Shohei’s porch, her entire back arched defensively, ears twitching backwards. She was hissing at Dusty, who was whimpering loudly below the porch steps and looking terrified. In your panic, you run to the lawn to pick Fraulein up.

“Fraulein! What are you doing here?”

Dusty continued to bark loudly, trying to come near the door where Fraulein stood. She hissed menacingly at him.

At that exact moment, Shohei Ohtani emerged from the front door, yawning and trying to get sleep out of his eyes.

“Whazhapeninhere?” He yawned, looking clearly disoriented from suddenly waking up.

“Your dog is trying to attack my cat!” I yelled, trying to go near Fraulein but stepped back as Dusty blocked your way.

Shohei popped awake as soon as he heard Fraulein hiss at Dusty once more; Fraulein arched her back more and raised her claws in defense.

“Whoa, hey!” Shohei ran up to Dusty and cradled him in his arms like a baby. Poor dog was shaking and whimpering.

“Are you sure it’s not your cat trying to attack my baby?” He raised his voice. He was standing a few feet away from you and looked you up and down, noticing your loose sleeping robe and looking away.

“Poor baby getting scared by a cat,” He cooed silently, helping Dusty relax.

You walked up the porch when Fraulein hissed and scratched your arms when you picked her up. She wriggled from your grasp but conceded defeat when you scruffed her by the neck, immobilizing her.

“I don’t know what’s happening here, but please stay away from my cat.” You looked at both Shohei and Dusty sternly. He noticed the scratches on your hands.

“You’re bleeding.” He started.

You looked down on your hands and saw visible red scratch marks. They started from the middle of your arm all the way to the back of your hand.

“I’m fine.” You huffed, trying to walk away as fast as possible. You don’t know what time it was, but it could easily be past midnight.

“No, wait. Please, I have antiseptic soap inside…” He rushed towards the house, when he looked back and saw you frozen on the steps, he beckoned you and disappeared inside. “Come on.”

You stood there for a moment and contemplated if you should follow Shohei inside. You barely know the guy and every encounter you’ve had with him always ended in a screaming match or a passive-aggressive exchange. He might even be an ax murderer for all you know. A very handsome one, at that.

“Frau, if something happens to me, please know that I love you.” You held her near your face. “Third drawer by the sink is where I kept all your catnip”. You whispered to her ear and walked towards Shohei Ohtani’s home.

~~~

Shohei Ohtani’s home was, first of all, very clean. It did not reek of anything a dog owner normally would smell like. It had the occasional puppy toys around the living room, but much to your surprise, it was spotless. It also smelled like sweet rose and laundry detergent. You also discovered that just like you, he lives alone.

Shohei had put Dusty inside a retractable gate to keep him safe from Fraulein as you put her down on the floor. He busied himself looking for his first aid kit. You don’t notice any other pictures on display except him and Dusty and one with his complete family on the refrigerator door.

His tall frame reappears and he pulls you towards the kitchen sink. You soak your arms under the water and he hands you the antiseptic soap.

“Thanks,” You mumbled. He never left your side and waited until you finished rinsing off, then took your arm and put cream on the scratch marks. He was standing unbelievably close, you could almost see his long eyelashes as he had his head down, concentrating on his self-appointed task.

He also had his other hand holding you tight, as if to make sure you won’t run off suddenly.

“I have these at home, you know.” You trained your eyes on his fingers dabbing cream. Don’t look at his arm veins, Y/N. Don’t look at them. Don’t look. Don’t.

“Oh, gee. Why didn’t I think of that?” He mused to which you rolled your eyes. Once again, the magic had worn off.

“Do you really have to sound sarcastic all the time?”

“C’mon, lighten up. Besides, it happened on my property so I feel partially responsible–even if it was your cat’s fault.” He shrugged.

You coughed at his accusation. “Fraulein does not instigate fights. She is well-mannered and prim all the time, thank you very much.” You pulled your cream-covered arm away from him. Just then, you notice Fraulein bumping her head on Shohei’s legs, mewling softly.

“How would you then explain the fact where your cat steals Dusty’s bed from the front porch?” He said, crossing his arm, Fraulein on the other hand, was still headbutting Shohei on the legs.

“Oh, she did not.” You retorted. Why would she steal someone’s fray-looking bed when she has her beautiful beige 2-condo tree tower with a capsule nest and dangling balls and a charming basket-weave style oval bed at home? It didn’t make sense. “She only sleeps in the beds I bought her.”

Shohei gives you a funny look and fishes his phone from his pocket. “Well, you’re in for quite a shock, I guess.”

He shoves the phone to you after tinkering with it for a while. “That’s your cat at 30:56 right?”

You look closely, a bit disoriented at what he was trying to show you. CCTV recorded footage of his porch outside where his dog, Dusty, was sitting in his dog bed, playing with his puppy chew ball, when suddenly, you saw Fraulein enter the frame from the left.

“It doesn’t show anything.” You impatiently looked on, disbelief and denial dripping from you.

“Oh just you wait.”

Fraulein was moving slowly, watching Dusty and his toy. A few minutes pass by, the video captures Shohei exiting the front door and Dusty follows him playfully, at which, the dog bed was obviously vacated, and Fraulein took the opportunity to lay on it.

Shohei cops the phone away and crosses his arms across his chest. “The court finds the defendant guilty.”

It took you a moment but gasped dramatically at the realization. “Was she here the entire day yesterday? Napping on your dog’s bed?” You looked at Fraulein with sheer disapproval. “Fraulein von Hammersmark, that is not how female felines behave.”

Shohei stifled a laugh. He was leaning over his stomach and ears red. “Relax. I don’t mind at all. I think Dusty does, though.” He picks up Fraulein calmly and gives her scratches on her head. Fraulein purrs loudly.

“She has been napping here all day since morning and seems to enjoy watching her new neighbor work out in the front lawn.”

You grimaced, making sure you showed him your disgust. “Ew, weird flex but okay.”

Dusty whimpers as he looks at the scene from outside his gate. You walk over and give him a light pat on the head. “Dusty, blink once if you need help.”

“Oh, please.” He giggles. “I’m not the weird one for naming my cat Fraulein von Hammersomething.” Shohei returns Fraulein to you, your arms touching, his head closer to yours momentarily.

“Y/N. I wonder what the weather is on your side. You want to wear something warmer than that?” He pointed at your loose sleeping gown, your legs showing a little bit of your thigh. A little more movement and the knots would dangerously slip out of your waist and reveal your lingerie.

“Pervert.” You instinctively covered your chest and ran back home, arms carrying Fraulein and the weight of shame for being almost half-naked inside a strange man’s house.

~~~~

The next few days after that incident were spent with writing articles for an obscure lifestyle website and your part-time work at the bookstore in town, Novel Nook. You ride a 30 minute bus ride to the town square everyday for work and wait 15 minutes in line to grab a cup of coffee from the coffee shop beside it. It doesn’t feel like work at all because you are always surrounded by the books that you love. It took you a long time to realize that working 9-5 in an office cubicle with ugly fluorescent lighting was deteriorating your mental headspace and when your mom passed, you jumped the gun and submitted your intent to resign.

You removed all the baggage you kept from the city and only brought the ones that mattered to you: your cat, your big books, some pretty clothes you never wore in the city but are wearing freely and confidently now, and your memories of your mom. You flew seven thousand miles back home to the place you were meant to be all this time, and you couldn’t be happier and more content.

You were walking sluggishly back home from a tiring day at work at Novel Nook where two teenagers fought for the last copy of The Hurricane Wars and it took all your energy to de-escalate before they could start pulling each other’s hair. You can’t wait to kick your boots back, hug Fraulein and maybe continue reading a book.

Your house is on the opposite side of the bus stop so you always (almost begrudgingly) have to pass by Shohei’s house every time. Sometimes it would be quiet with Dusty playing alone on the porch, or Shohei having a barbecue and would always cheerfully waving at you while you just give him a brief nod. Recently, you’ve grown accustomed to seeing Fraulein hanging out in his place more often than you have imagined. She’s like a teenage girl rebelling against her overbearing mother, hanging out with the wrong crowd. After that incident with Dusty, she has claimed dominance on his bed, Shohei had no choice but to buy a new one for his poor dog, while Fraulein smugly walks around in her new territory.

You had developed some sort of weird neighbor-dynamic with Shohei after that. On days Fraulein had to take her medicine shots that Patrick had given you, you’d walk towards his house and pick her up like some sort of pet daycare. Shohei likes to call it “daddy daycare” as if you’re two divorced parents and he is the cool dad that all the kids love hanging with while you’re the uptight, overbearing mother with full custody and all, that the kids hate.

“Fraulein, your mom’s here.” Shohei said one day, looking up from his laptop which was perched on the table he had set up on his porch, sitting adjacent to Fraulein. Dusty was chewing on his toy, as usual, and perked up a welcome upon seeing you.

Fraulein stands and stretches her back and sits back again resting on Shohei’s foot, to which Shohei smirks almost smugly. “She loves her dad more, it seems.”

You roll your eyes and pick up Fraulein. “Stop calling yourself her dad before I burn your house down.”

“Ooh, an arsonist for a neighbor. That’s so sexy, Y/N.” He looked you up and down and wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re too cute to go to jail, though. How about going out with me instead?”

“Piss off. C’mon, Fraulein, time for medicine.” You turned and walked back to your home, trying to keep a straight face at the being called cute with Shohei. You’re too cute. You made the mistake of looking back as you turned to your corner and saw Shohei grinning at you.

This day would be no different as you passed by Shohei’s house today and saw Fraulein napping at the exact same place on his porch. He was working out doing ab crunches on the ground. You decided today, you wouldn’t dare to go on another episode of sarcasm battle with Shohei and go straight home. He was wearing workout clothes of course, with his gym shorts and sleeveless shirt, for all the temptations in the world, this one, you had proudly resisted and warded off like the devil.

You found Dusty on your lawn, sitting by the patch of grass far from your flowers, thankfully, and staring far ahead into the direction of your home. You patted him and tried to get his attention. Ever since being displaced by Fraulein, he had been giving you frequent visits and play in your yard and you’d give him treats from your secret stash.

“Hey, bud. Were you waiting for me?” He ignored you and continued to look on.

By the door, you can see a tall black figure standing, unmoving. It was a man in a black suit with hands in his pockets. When he turns around, you see a familiar face.

“No,” You whispered. Jack smiles at you and waves, as if nothing had happened almost a month ago. As if he was just returning from a business trip. Like cheating on you was nothing.

You started panicking and heaving heavily. Dusty senses your fear and barks at Jack when he slowly walks over to you.

Dusty continued to growl and bark at Jack while you tried to move backward, feet heavy like lead.

“Stop, don’t come near me, Jack.” you struggled.

“Y/N, I’m here to apologize, for whatever happened, for whatever it made you feel.” He was still slowly walking towards you, eyeing Dusty carefully.

“We have nothing to talk about anymore, Jack. It’s over, in case you forgot.”

“I said come here, you bitch.” He growled.

At this point, you only realized you were shaking terribly when a hand wrapped on your shoulder, calming you down.

“Are you okay?” It was Shohei’s voice and you have never felt so relieved to hear his voice. You weakly put your arm around his waist and leaned on him. You were still shaking badly, from the exhaustion, or the fear, you couldn’t tell.

“Is everything okay?” Shohei acknowledges Jack who stopped at around five feet from where you were.

“We were just discussing something… private.” Jack shifts his eyes between you and Shohei, who was sizing him up and down. Between Shohei, who stood over six feet tall, bulky, and ripped, and Jack, just around five foot nine, body somewhat lean and lanky, Jack didn’t stand a chance.

Realizing this, you found more comfort and confidence in your plan. You looked up to see Shohei still trying to converse with Jack while keeping a firm arm around you.

“Shohei.” He looked at you cautiously and tightened his grip on your shoulder.

Please promise me that you won’t get mad at what I’m about to do.

“What is it, Y/N? Who is this guy?” he said.

“He’s my ex who I want nothing to do with.” He straightened his back but you pulled him by the neck so you could whisper in his ear.

“I’m so sorry, Shohei.”

“I’m not sure I understand–” He tilted his head in confusion. Jack starts moving forward again, looking almost pissed by just looking at you and Shohei.

With Shohei still leaning forward, you desperately grabbed his cheeks and pecked him square on the lips.

Shock induces both Shohei’s and Jack’s faces when you pull back, eyes focused on Jack and hoping to God he’d get the message. Wild red alarms blared and rang loudly in your head, you just kissed Shohei, your hot and annoying neighbor! You just kissed him! You ignored this and focused on the problem at hand.

“He’s my boyfriend, Jack. Please leave now–”

Shohei recovers from his shock and kisses you back in bigger, wider and longer strokes of his tongue. The tremors in your body shook harder and you felt your limbs melt into a puddle of water. Shohei’s big warm hands were there to catch you as your knees unbuckled.

You kissed back and forgot everything that was happening in the background. Dusty barking, Jack’s shell-shocked face, the vehicles passing by the street witnessing your spectacle. You ignored all of this and focused on the way Shohei holds on to your body from your neck, to your back until it rests to the back of your waist, gripping tight, his firm and taut body pressing hard onto you, and his lips sliding over yours so smoothly, stimulating all the senses in your tongue and mouth.

You don’t know how many seconds passed when you stayed inside that bubble but when you both pulled back for air, Jack was no longer there and Dusty had stopped barking. Instead, he just sat quietly on the ground, waiting for you to finish.

You stared at Shohei and you stared back at him. Your hand was still on his neck, half-gripping the nape. You slowly let go and pull away. It’s always after the sin that you feel the shame and guilt.

He doesn’t let go and instead takes you by the shoulder. “Come inside first and we’ll talk.”

You nod wordlessly and follow his lead. You couldn’t walk properly anyway, so you didn’t want to fight back. Your knees felt like jelly and your brain full of fog. That was hot, you thought, but also very wrong.

You sat at Shohei’s dining table chugging a glass of water. By the time you finished, he sat there in front of you and continued looking at you intensely.

In your post-kiss and post-Jack clarity, you’re now too embarrassed to admit the way you handled that situation. But Shohei, being Shohei, seemed unfazed. For the most part, he found it amusing to be part of your ex-boyfriend escape plan, of all the people.

“A man never listens to a no,” You were too focused on the rim of the glass. You want to look anywhere but Shohei’s mouth. “And I was desperate for him to get away… so I did.. That.”

“Y/N, you were trembling out there. What exactly has he done to you?” He removed the glass from your grip and made you focus on him.

“He… I… He’s an asshole when he gets angry. And I was just scared I wouldn't be able to refuse him. I don’t want him anymore.”

“For someone as arrogant and snappish as you, that’s pretty hard to believe.” You rolled your eyes at him and smirked, lips looking luscious and fuller than the last time.

“Look, I was probably having a panic attack back there, and I’m okay now, see?” You spread your arms widely, faking a smile at him. You’d like this conversation to end so you could run back to your house and ram your head to the wall. The more you stay in Shohei’s presence, the more embarrassed you feel about wanting and enjoying that kiss. You did. You do. And you want more.

“I wanted an easy way out, you happened to be there and I grabbed the moment.” You rambled on. “And that kiss, it was just a one-time thing.”

“A one-time thing?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, it was a mistake. We don’t even like each other to kiss, so we can forget about it.”

“Is that right?” His lips curled into a smirk.

“Yes, tomorrow, we act like it never happened, okay?” You stood up and started collecting yourself. You hang by the door and look back, Shohei had his arms crossed against his chest, staring at you.

“I don’t know, Y/N. That seems pretty unforgettable to me.”

~~~~~

The following morning, you woke up early to visit the farmer's market to replenish your cupboard. You wore black tights over your long beige dress and a gray cardigan. You put your hair down in loose waves today and replaced your contacts with your old prescription eyeglasses.

Sprawled in front of you were tents and tables of farmers and sellers of freshly harvested fruits and vegetables to your heart’s content. Almost everyone you knew from town was there on a bright day like this. You said your hellos and some, who were avid customers of Novel Nook, asked about the new book releases. Since it is a fairly small town, it is inevitable to spot the ones that you direly wanted to avoid. For example, your ex-boyfriend Jack.

He was standing one tent away and seemed to just idly window-shopping. You put your head down and try not to meet his gaze or look at his direction as you busy yourself looking through a good bunch of tomatoes.

“Hey, Y/N.” You put your guard down and suddenly he is in front of you.

“What are you doing here?”

“Trying to… buy some tomatoes?” He sneered, holding a tomato in his hand. “I don’t see your boyfriend around.”

“I…He’s… Can you please stop following me?” Cold sweat ran through your spine as he noticed you fumble, noticing your lie.

“Lest you forget, I live here, too.”

“Not in this side of town, you don’t.” You walked away with the bag of tomatoes you purchased. You moved quickly and avoided the throng of people that was starting to build up.

“I just want us to talk… Y/N. You didn’t give me a chance to explain yesterday.” He continued to follow you, hands behind his back. He was obviously not there to buy tomatoes.

“I don’t want to see you anymore. Leave me alone or I’ll call the police.” You looked at him sternly, hand gripping tightly on the basket you were holding. One false move and you just might smash his head with a whole pineapple.

“No boyfriend to come save you now?” Jack chuckled.

“There you are.” A familiar voice sprung up from behind, and a hand snaked around your waist. Shohei was suddenly beside you, holding on to his own basket of shopping bags. “I was looking all over for you. Look, I got you blueberries for the cake you were planning to bake. ”

Shohei pinched your sides and smiled, nodding at you to play along with his little act. You forced a wide smile and said, “Wow, yes. You remembered, love? Thank you.”

You both turned to Jack who had a repulsed expression on his face. He coughed up and tried to get back his composure, but it was too late as both of you were already walking away. Shohei did not let go of you even until you turned a corner. You couldn’t care less about shopping anymore as you worried about running into Jack again.

“It looks like your ex is adamant on following you around.” He whispered to your ear, looking back and seeing Jack following far behind. “Care to give him a show, love?”

You widen your eyes as you realized what was about to happen.

He moves his head closer to yours and locks you in a wet kiss. He pushed deeper into the kiss when you unconsciously opened your mouth and let him in, mouth and tongue. The smell of clean detergent mixed with a little bit of vanilla filled your lungs, slapping you drunk. The second kiss was just as good as the first.

Shohei suddenly pulls back from the kiss and offers his hand, and continues walking along like he hadn’t sucked the air out of your body.

For a few more tents, you and Shohei walked around hand in hand in the cold morning, picking fruits and vegetables like your typical neighborhood couple. Many onlookers saw the two of you eating from the free taste section, or arguing about the right vegetable size to buy, or just happily chatting with his hand not letting you go.

“Shohei, I think Jack’s no longer around.” You motion for him to let go of your hand.

“Aw, I thought we weren’t acting anymore, the way you were kissing me back there.” He smirks and lets go of your hand, missing his warmth already.

“I’m only letting your hand go because you look like you’re going to topple over with how heavy this basket is.” He took your groceries from you and led the way. Since you’re practically almost living together, you have no choice but to walk with him awkwardly.

“Thank you, Shohei.” You said quietly, walking feebly behind him.

“Didn’t catch that, love. What–” He wheels around and stops himself after realizing what he said, the tips of his ears turning red. You tried to keep a straight face but failed as both of you got caught in the moment.

“Don’t get used to it.” You giggled and skipped your steps, leaving him to carry all the shopping bags he refused to let you carry.

~~~

You were slowly settling down for the night with a movie on and a bowl of buttered popcorn when you heard a faint knock on the door.

Shohei was standing outside with his hands in the pockets of his checkered pajama pants. On his feet seems to be a brand new pet backpack carrier.

“Special delivery for one order of queen of meowtown, clingy and fuzzball Fraulein!” He beamed and pointed at the carrier. Fraulein was sitting relaxedly inside.

“Don’t be shocked or anything but I accidentally bought two of these.” He pointed at the carrier. “I-I thought you’d like to have one for Fraulein. You don’t have to accept it i-if you…”

You smiled as he stammered on. “This looks really cute, I love it.”

Shohei smiled widely and helped push the carrier to your living room. “Then I'll give this as a gift!”

“It would be improper to receive a gift like this...”

“I refuse to accept no, Y/N. Take it please.”

You wanted to mull over it, let it marinate in your head and see what happens but ever since the first two kisses you shared with him, Shohei has been… extra friendly recently. And you were not that kind of “friend”. Whenever you pass his house, he’d go out of his way and talk to you before you walk away. Asking you questions if you’re on the way to the farmer's market, or if you’re on your way to work, if you want to join him for a run. He’s been attentive and you’re not sure what exactly this dynamic has evolved into. You feel uncomfortable about the attention you’re receiving but at the same time, you feel it in your chest and in your stomach and at the tips of your fingers. The fluttering. The tremors and the shakiness of breaths. It’s always there when he’s there.

“Okay, fine. I’ll take it. But no more other gifts, okay!” You opened the carrier to let Fraulein out who walked idly away and climbed into her tree tower.

Shohei smiled, nodding. He was about to leave the door when you pulled the sleeve of his shirt.

“Wait. Um.”

He stepped back and looked inquiringly. You held up a photo from your phone to his face: it was you and Shohei on the day you went to the farmer’s market, holding hands while looking at freshly picked flowers. Shohei’s eyes squinted with laughter, looking intently at you while you were captured trying to explain something trivial. It was quite a beautiful shot sent to you by a cousin who was good at photography. More than that, if you were a stranger looking at a random photo like this, you’d think you were happily in love, and the thought made your chest flutter.

“It’s quite a small town so it didn’t come as a shock to me when people started noticing whatever this was.” Shohei was still looking at the photo, a small smile drawn on his lips.

“My mom’s side of the family is setting up a brunch this weekend. I usually bring Patrick to this but they wanted to meet you so…” You trailed.

You coughed and took the phone away. “It’s just a small group of people. And we can always say we broke up after three months or something.”

He cocked his head, looking confused. “Are we still doing the pretending thing with your family?”

“Yeah, I mean. We don’t like each other like that, right? We can just say it didn’t work out after three or four months. They usually move on pretty quickly from the guys I date.”

“Let me get this straight, Y/N.” He said slowly, the Adam’s apple on his throat went up and down as he swallowed. “You want to introduce me to your family as your fake boyfriend on your family brunch.”

You affirmed. “Yes.”

“And we’re going to cook up a reason to break up.”

“Yes.”

“And you said we don’t really like each other that much.”

“Not one bit”

“When we already had two kisses.”

“Yeah.”

“And went on a date in the farmer’s market walking around while holding hands. We kissed twice.”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“It was to me.” He muttered.

“It was because you were helping me with Jack, remember?”

Shohei sighed exasperatedly, his mood darkened. “Pssh, yeah, whatever. Text me the details. G’night.” He scooted to leave and just like that you were left all alone in a confused daze in your living room.

~~~

You spent too much time tossing and turning on your bed that night. The voices in your head and the whispers in your heart having an ongoing debate about what had happened a few hours before.

Shohei was extremely happy, almost beaming like a kid when he brought you his gift but his expression changed after you had the conversation about your family brunch. Maybe you can sit it out this year and make up an excuse that both you and Shohei couldn’t attend? Seasonal allergies? Car getting mauled? Someone’s pet dying? Gods, no. You internally smack yourself for even being near to the thought of either your pets dying, not when they’re the closest thing you have as your best friend and family. You believe Shohei believes that, too.

And why would Shohei become upset when you proposed the idea of a fake relationship with your family? You started this whole mess and it’s slowly getting out of hand, you want to nip it in the bud so it won’t have to hurt that much later on. It was just a one-time thing, an escape plan until Jack gets out of your hair, then both of you can live as freely as you had before.

Besides, Shohei doesn’t like you to be that upset. Does he? He’s just a neighbor who likes joking around and annoying you whenever he gets the chance. He also just so happens to be a neighbor that Fraulein spends a lot of time on, he’s just someone to you until recently.

You touch your fingers on your lips. That kiss shouldn’t mean anything to you because maybe Shohei doesn’t think about it that much either. He’s probably had a good number of girls that he’s kissed with that mouth. Given how good those kisses were, his expertise was undeniably top notch. You’ve never had anything like that before. A kiss that makes your insides tremble with need, almost fairytale like. Something close to what Mia Thermopolis had fantasized before her royal engagement with Nick Devereaux, a kiss that makes your leg pop. That’s what it was. A leg-popping, heart-fluttering, soul-defining kind of a kiss that you’ll ask for more.

But as much as you want this all for yourself like the next person, you just had your heart broken by Jack. Jack who had promised you the moon and the stars, and a beautiful, dreamy, family with your pets. He had you swooning and dreaming about forever. It was all perfect until that fateful date and the cheating. It hurts to realize that no matter how much you love and do better for a person, they will always look for ways to look at other people. The idea of getting into a relationship right away after what happened with Jack is preposterous at this point. The trust and self-confidence Jack broke is something you want to piece together yourself first. Even if it meant being alone for a couple of months, or years. Who knows.

You tossed to your side once again, feeling the sleep finally get to you. You dozed off soaking under the thoughts of kittens and kissing a tall man with contagious laughter.

~~~~

Shohei was filling Fraulein’s food and water bowl dutifully as you had asked, waiting for you to finish preparing for the family brunch in the living room. He had finally succumbed and agreed to go with you as your fake boyfriend, despite his initial feelings towards the arrangement. He still doesn’t understand what was going through your head but he nevertheless had stopped bringing it up. He realized that the more he asked, the more you pushed back and retreated into the dark. He decided that he’d wait for you to soften up. You always do.

And that’s how the two of you went back to being friendly with each other.

He was sitting on your living room couch with Fraulein, brushing her fur with his fingers. Just another territory she had claimed: Shohei’s lap.

“Shohei, help please!” You ran down the stairs, all dolled up. You put your hair down again, this time, you kept it naturally soft and straight. You also donned a yellow sundress that hugged your body, showing off your natural curves. The hems of the skirt go loose from the thighs down.

“Can you help me zip this up, please?” You said so casually. When you turned around and showed Shohei your bare, unzipped back, he swallowed hard.

He held your waist lightly and zipped your back slowly, as if taking his time to gape at the bareness of your skin exposed for him. When his breath touched your neck, you felt goosebumps pop.

“Let’s go.” You smiled too widely for him, trying to act like the oxygen in your house has not depleted.

Shohei was a hit with your cousins during brunch. Turns out that all of them share the same interests in baseball and baseball teams. They were passionately chatting on one side of the garden area while you helped your Aunt Olivia set up the table.

“He’s quite the personality, Y/N.” She mused.

“Wherever did you find a man like that, Y/N?” Your cousin Evelyn commented, staring back. “Woot, what a view.”

You smiled and looked at Shohei socializing with your family. The moment the two of you entered Aunt Olivia’s home, everyone stared in awe. After introductions were made, Shohei made connections pretty quickly with his bubbly personality. You can also hear his occasional booming laughter from their group.

You were on your way to the kitchen when a hand on your waist suddenly pulled you from behind. Shohei led you to the empty pantry and pushed you back to the wall, his hands up on the wall and caging you.

“Hi?”

“Hi.” He looked deep into your eyes, like he was looking for something. “Anyplace in this house, we are pretending, yes?”

“Yes, the moment we stepped out of the car. We are boyfriend and girlfriend.” You confirmed.

“Even here?” His lips shadowed lightly on yours, nose grazing yours.

“Uhm. Yes.” You breathed and that would be your last breath for a while as Shohei kissed you full on the mouth.

He kissed you frantically, with need and fervor. You put your hands over his shoulders and his hands reached the back of your leg, putting it over his waist. You stifled a moan as he bit your neck and peppered your chest with small kisses. You can’t help but push your hips forward and roll it against his.

You broke apart like a deer in headlights when you heard footsteps nearby. You pushed Shohei and straightened your clothes. You wiped Shohei’s lipstick-stained mouth and ran away as fast as you could. Shohei, who was as kiss-hungry and love drunk as you were, could only smirk at your retreating form.

During brunch, you sat with Aunt Olivia on your right and Shohei, by default, on your left side. You were trying to make conversation about the current weather news report while eating your plate of mashed potatoes, all while trying to avoid any contact with Shohei.

He noticed you have been avoidant after the hot makeout session in the pantry. He put a hand on your thigh under the table, pinching it with reassurance.

“Are we good, Y/N?”

You nodded wordlessly and smiled at him. Something about the way Shohei’s attentiveness always hits you to your core. You’ve never felt this so cared for before that it’s almost bewitching.

The party started getting up and divided: your aunts and uncles dancing happily on one side, your cousins taking selfies on the other. Meanwhile you and Shohei were left sitting comfortably by the dining table, enjoying the sweet ambiance of everyone around you.

You held his arm gingerly, almost seductively when you felt his hard muscles from his shirt. A few moments ago, you had almost stripped him naked in the pantry with all of your aunt’s condiments as your audience.

“Why are you so toned? What are you working out for?” You said jokingly, pressing on his biceps in amazement.

“I’m preparing for the next man who tries to steal you.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear. You giggled.

“No one can take me away from you!” You whispered back, resting your head on his shoulder. You were on your third glass of wine and it isn’t noon yet. You feel tipsy and giggly in the comfort of Shohei’s strong arms.

“And this is a toast to our new couple, Y/N and Shohei, may this relationship be longer than the last one.” Uncle Ben bellowed, attracting laughter from the rest of the family. They clinked their glasses and toasted for the nth time today.

You raised your own glass and sipped your wine.

“Don’t mind them, they’re always like that when I bring a guy to brunch.”

He caressed your thigh and wanted to push the button. “Which guys?”

“Hm? Oh just Jack and Patrick. Although Patrick doesn’t count, because he’s my bestie.” Shohei looked at you and wondered who Patrick may be. He felt a bubbling feeling at the pit of his stomach. Is he jealous? Angry? That he wasn’t the first person you introduced to your family. He shrugged it off. This is just all an act, anyway. Get your shit together, man.

“This may be my favorite brunch ever.” You concluded, finishing the last few drops of your wine. Shohei stole the glass from your hand and replaced it with his.

“The weather is perfect, the food is great, all of my mom’s family is here. And I don’t feel alone… thanks to you.” You traced circles on the back of Shohei’s palm with your thumb.

“Why don’t we end this with a bang, Y/N?”

Shohei’s smile invites you to a peck on the lips. He held the back of your head and gently kissed you deeply, slowly this time. You don’t resist and he doesn’t let go. You hear cheers from the background as you kiss softly. Shohei kisses you for the last time today with the hopes that it removes the uncertainty in your mind. That when he kisses you better this time, it would change your mind. He prays to all the gods that would listen.

You melt into the moment and hope it never ceases, because you go back to normal after it ends. After today, you and Shohei will be two separate people once again. And that hurts the deeper parts of you without you realizing it.

~~~~

Shohei escorted you back home after the brunch. You rode in complete silence all the way. You really really didn’t want it to end but you also didn’t want to drag Shohei into a life that you’re not a hundred percent sure of yet.

“Thank you for the ride.” You hung back at the entrance and Shohei waited, hoping you’d say something more. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

He sighed. “Wait, Y/N. Is that it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are we just gonna go back to the way it was now that you’re done pretending?” He said almost angrily.

“Well, that’s the plan, isn’t it?”

“That’s your plan. I don’t want this to end. Did you ever wonder why I had agreed to it without asking anything in return? Because I didn’t need to pretend at all. It was all real to me.”

You stood there dumbfounded at the sudden outburst of confession from him. You thought Shohei would be more than willing to go back to his old, uninvolved life with you. But he was right. You never once stopped to think why he was more than willing to help you get away from Jack, or to help you lie in front of your family.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly when I asked you this…” You blink back tears forming.

Shohei walks up to you and rests his hands on your shoulders. “I don’t want this to end. Do you?”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for all of this, Shohei.” You squeaked, finally finding your voice.

“You’re the most attentive, thoughtful, and sincerest man I’ve ever been blessed to meet. Even I get breathless thinking how lucky I’d be if I let you in…

“This whole fake dating thing was a mess. I shouldn’t have dragged you into my problems.”

“Y/N. Please don’t shut me out. Let me in, I’d go to the trouble of warding off your ex-boyfriend if I need to. I’ll be here for whatever.” Shohei begged. You shook your head firmly.

“I’m not ready yet, Shohei. I loved every moment I have spent with you, but I need to be with myself for now.”

Shohei dropped his hands to his sides and stepped back, his eyes glistening with tears.

“See you around, then.”

You watched him walk away until he disappeared into his home. You closed your door and plopped down on the floor. The tears that you were holding back came gushing out, and finally you were bawling. You didn’t cry this hard when Jack cheated on you but when you saw Shohei walking away because of your own doing, you felt like your world had collapsed. You wept until there were no tears left to cry, until the only pain you have left to bear was the hollowness of what Shohei left. You crawled into a ball by the door, clothes unchanged, makeup running down your face. Fraulein snuggles up to you minutes after, sharing her warmth.

Looks like it's just you and me again, Fraulein.

In the next couple of weeks, you would rise early to tend to your plants, volunteer additional hours in Novel Nook so you could get home later than usual, and avoid the farmer’s market. You added wearing a baseball cap or large hats as a new fashion ensemble to steer away from eye contact at the risk of bumping into Shohei. The thing is, your efforts to avoid him were reduced to nil as you bumped into him everywhere you went. When you throw out the trash as early as five o'clock in the morning, he’d be there, warming up or jogging on your path. When you went to the farmer's market later than usual, he was also there doing after-rush hour shopping. Even administering Fraulein’s medicine time was an arduous task seeing that she still hangs around Shohei’s porch, not understanding your human conflict and emotions towards each other.

There are days when you feel better and the sun is shining, but there are also moments when you catch yourself at the brink of a breakdown. It takes a while for the loneliness to settle in like an unwanted guest, creeping over your shoulder, sometimes hugging you at night. It wasn’t this hard before you met Shohei, so how was it different now?

“All good, Y/N?” You lost your train of thought at the voice of Aunt Olivia. You couldn’t bear the loneliness and the quiet of your home that you packed your stuff and stayed for a week’s worth of vacation. She joined you in the indoor kitchen table, where you were having your mid-afternoon coffee.

“Boy problems?” she suggested. One look from you and she already knew.

“Aunt Liv, how do you know if you’re ready to love again?” You said after a moment of silence.

“You don’t.” She smiled and cupped your hands. “You fuck around then find out.”

She chuckled to herself. “You remind me so much of your mom. She was always scared of trivial matters, like falling in love.

“But when she had a good taste in it, she never looked back.”

Aunt Liv has always been fond of her little sister. Your mom. And hearing these words from her, reminiscent of how she had been when she was your age, twinged at your heart a little bit.

“I’m not the one who’d pry on your relationships, Y/N. But he’s a keeper, that boy. I thought he was joking at first, but he seems to be serious about it.”

You knitted your eyebrows together. “What do you mean by that?”

“He said something when I got him alone that day. He’d said, you were tougher than a potato under hot water. But he’s willing to wait for you to soften up no matter how hot it gets.”

Leave it to Shohei to drop potato metaphors to your relatives on their first meeting.

“When a man like that comes around, I won’t ever let him go. You’re lucky if you ever meet the same kind of man twice.”

You pondered on about Aunt Liv’s advice for the rest of the day; by nighttime, you felt an epiphany dawn upon you. The next day, you packed up and went home earlier than you had planned.

“Go get him, bubba.” Aunt Liv wished you luck. You’ll need all the luck you can get and hope it wasn’t too late.

It took you approximately an hour to get home by taxi, the car zigzagging across the street.

You don’t know why you were rushing. He wasn’t going anywhere, not to your knowledge. He will always be right where you left him but something inside you was telling you that a second more that you’re away from home, and you’d lose him.

You were trying to catch your breath as you ran on your side of the street when you bumped into Shohei leaving your front lawn, a pail and shovel over his shoulders.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He was covered in dirt from the knee up, his white shirt sticking to his body and full of sweat. He looked a little shocked and panicked at being caught mid-exit from your garden.

“I should ask you the same question. What were you doing in my lawn?” You tried to take a peek but Shohei covered your path with his wide body. “Did you bury a body there?”

“I think that’s a good idea for your fertilizer, Y/N!” He seemed a little agitated and making offbeat jokes to distract you.

“Step away. What did you do to my garden?” You pushed him with all the adrenaline coursing through you and jogged towards your front lawn, expecting a murder crime scene or worse, a decaying garden.

Instead, you saw hundreds of tulips in different shades and colors spread all throughout your garden. Purple and yellow tulips lined up the path towards your home. Red and pink tulips danced in the background, swaying every time a soft breeze brushed through.

“You’re not supposed to see it yet. I thought you’d be back tomorrow night.” Shohei said, rubbing the nape of his head, embarrassed at being caught.

“You remembered when I said… At the farmer’s market…” You stammered.

“Yes, you went on and on about how much you love tulips.” You suddenly remembered the photo before the brunch party. How Shohei was looking fondly at you as he listened to you rambling on about something trivial. It wasn’t trivial to him because it was important to you. And he remembered.

You turned around and faced him. You held out a hand and wiped a bit of sweat off of his face. “Did you do all of this… on your own?”

He nodded shyly. “That’s not all, though.” He whistled and called Dusty.

“You’re the most stubborn and one hell of a fiery woman. But you’re also the sweetest, softest, clingiest woman I’ve lucked out on. You’re so beautiful sometimes it hurts. After that second kiss, I knew right away that I’d have to fight tooth and nail for you to keep needing and wanting me."

Dusty bursted out of Shohei’s garden stringing along a reluctant Fraulein scruffed by the neck. Both of them were wearing cute red bow ties on their neck each laced with individual messages.

You pulled Dusty’s message and read, “I want to call you “mom” so will you be my dad’s girlfriend?

You squealed in delight as you unraveled the next message pinned on Fraulein’s bow tie: “I loved him first but can you keep him forever?”

You swooned and laughed at the corniness and the teeth-rotting sweetness. You can’t help but jump into Shohei’s arms and give him a big hug despite all the sweat and grime on his body.

“Ew, you got all your sweat on me.” You playfully joked at the parting.

“Hmm, you have no choice but to shower with me now.” He lifted you by the waist and carried you on top of his shoulders, both of you laughing and shrieking like newly weds on honeymoon, Dusty and Fraulein at your tails.

.This place, this scene, and this warmth spreading through your chest up to your fingertips, all of it and the familiarity of it, you realized, is the only thing you need to live a lifetime of love and happiness. You were wondering where it was all this time and you understand now that it had been right beside you all along.

#shohei ohtani au #shohei ohtani imagines #shohei ohtani pov #shohei ohtani fluff #it's giving autumn girl red taylor's version color grading

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stealeroflemons · 3 months

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eah thingy #29 because my brain has been creatively dead for a while and I'm going to force myself to try before I go back in my study hole for graduation

This is mainly going to be what I think the eah characters sound like/who they sound like when they sing/voices I associate with them when I'm writing them (I know these won't perfectly match up with their VA's but let me have my fun)

Melody Piper - Phoebe Bridgers

Sparrow Hood - Tyler Joseph

Raven Queen - Chappell Roan

Meeshell Mermaid - AURORA

Briar Beauty - Julianna Joy

Faybelle Thorn - Halsey

Ashlynn Ella - Lizzy McAlpine

Hunter Huntsman - Michael Cera

Dexter Charming - Alec Benjamin

Darling Charming - Allie X

Daring Charming - Peter McPoland

Apple White - Melanie Martinez

Blondie Lockes - Britney Spears

Cerise Hood - Hayley Kiyoko

Ramona Badwolf - Bishop Briggs

Kitty Cheshire - Suki Waterhouse

Maddie Hatter - Paris Paloma

Lizzie Hearts - MARINA

Alistair Wonderland - Niall Horan

Bunny Blanc - Ethel Cain

Cedar Wood - Laufey

Chase Redford - Eric Nam

Courtly Jester - K.Flay

Holly O'Hair - Lily Kershaw

Poppy O'Hair - Orla Gartland

Ginger Breadhouse - Hailee Steinfeld

Duchess Swan - Tessa Violet

Farrah Goodfairy - Au/Ra

C.A. Cupid - Madds Buckley

Hopper Croakington II - Ricky Montgomery

Justine Dancer - Sabrina Claudio

Rosabella Beauty - Chloe Ament

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gale-gentlepenguin · 2 years

Note

Hey dude. Are u going to continue your Back in Blanc story/idea or something? I was really curious and it looks very interesting. Hope u're ok.

I am okay.

I think if it picks up more attention I will write part 2.

I’ve got a short attention span. I write on impulse or praise

#miraculous ladybug #blanc AU #back in blanc au #ml

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kari-go · 2 months

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I am aware that some people weren't here from the start or are just confused so take this as a sort of rundown or at least some basic information about this au. While it is still a WIP, I don't think I'm really gonna change this info. I hope this isn't overwhelming or anything :D also apologies if my English is wonky

Text written down in case it's unreadable xd

Stephan Petrov

moved to Paris after his dad's death

he's trying his best, he's just having a rough time

rlly athletic and (intellectually) smart

also really pretty

also in denial

someone help him

holder of the cat -> Gato Noir

*arrow pointing to Luxx* Luxx

Chris Duval

moved from New York to Paris out of nowhere

yearns for knowledge

especially about the kwamis

surprisingly adjusting well to everything

holder of the lion -> Lion Blanc

Marinette Dupain-Cheng

still lives in a bakery

Nino & Kim's childhood friend

has only heard about Chloe from Kim

my babygirl, baby

Lukagaminette endgame

holder of the ladybug -> Ladybug

Chloe Bourgeois

gets a redemption (if she even has to have one)

still the mayor's daughter

Audrey is still absent

has done many sports but slowed down cuz of her low grades -> Sabrina is her tutor

has been friends with Kagami for a while now, they met in a fencing match (no Chlogami) (Kagami was definitely her awakening tho)

later the holder of the monkey -> Prima Queen

Lila Rossi

Chris' childhood friend (back when they used to live in Italy)

exchange student

absolutely despises the Parisian Butterfly

just a normal with a pretty normal life!

Luxx hates him

had the Matter duo *arrow pointing to the cat and ladybug*, gave it away

only has Fluff now

*arrow pointing to Fluff* NO TIME TRAVEL!

You had perfectly good children and what did you do to them?

Arthur Duval

Chris' dad

Blanche's lovely husband <3

looks calm & collected but isn't

still lives in New York

rlly charismatic but gets overwhelmed in a crowd

Blanche Duval

Chris' mom

Arthur's lovely wife <3

capable of murder but doesn't because Arthur told her no

lives in Paris with Chris

works in a museum

somehow the most responsible adult in most situations (idk if that's a good thing)

Marianne's (adopted) daughter

Sofia Petrov

Stephan's mom

moved to Paris after she got a job offer from Gabriel (and her husband died)

she just wants the best for her son

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roybel · 1 year

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nobody paid attention to my eah idol au when i put it under the cut in that ask so here it is again and all of u have to read it.

apple white - pop princess. no creative control over lyrics or production. starts a fanwar between herself and ravens fanbases by accidentally saying she doesnt like ravens music in an interview with blondie

raven queen - alternative/indie singer like mitski. rabid online fanbase. getting tired of music industry in general - apple-raven fanwar may be the last straw

briar beauty - apples manager. is getting sick of managing apple and not making music herself - wants to make music again. used to be part of an idol group with apple, ashlynn and blondie - briar and ashlynn left, dissatisfied with the lack of control they had of their music and their image. blondie was devastated - she didnt have the money or popularity to continue a solo career on her own, whereas apple could.

faybelle thorn - known mononymously as faybelle, faybelle thorn is a rising pop act. she used to be a child star but was sick of her mother controlling her every move and broke away. this unfortunately also broke her career. faybelle is desperate to reclaim her fame. she is a hyperpop/pop act, and she is jealous of the amount of fans raven has online - she starts to build up completely onesided rivalry with her. approaches briar to ask her to manage her, but realises briar wants to be back in the spotlight and proposes a group.

maddie hatter - lyricist for lizzie and the worms. known as HATWORM. is approached by raven for some inspiration and they become fast friends - raven learns a lot from her.

lizzie hearts - lead singer and leader of lizzie and the worms. makes art, costumes and thumbnails for the worms.

bunny blanc - known as CLOCKWORM. quiet producer for lizzie and the worms.

kitty cheshire - known as CATWORM. makes the videos for lizzie and the worms.

alistair wonderland - lizzie and the worms groupie. CLOCKWORMs biggest fan.

courtly jester - hacks ppls twitters bc she loves hoarding those blue checkmarks. she has a fandom of her own bc shes so crazy when she hacks into their accounts. she also releases breakcore music on soundcloud which is pretty popular. she releases it under the name the joker card

#ever after high #eah #☆

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starlitangels · 11 months

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One Last Show?

... More Rockstar AU. In the same universe as "Last Night of Tour" but now with the other band ;-) Please welcome Milo and the Wolves to the stage! 5.5k words this was not meant to be this long omg

@palilious and @zozo-01... figured you two would like to be informed that I finished this one ;-)

—

Sweetheart

Milo shoved open the hotel room door and stormed inside. Me hot on his heels. “I am not your parents, Mr. Greer. You hired me for your safety, remember?” I snapped the second the door closed.

Milo scoffed. “And you’re good at what you do—but I’m gettin’ a little sick-a you breathin’ down my neck day in and day out!” His retort fired off his tongue fast, like he knew what I was going to say.

“Look. I’m not here to judge you, okay? If you wanna go out and party, then go out and party. If you’re sick of the rest of the band and want to sneak out to party without them—fine. But you take me with you. I’m not gonna judge you for sneaking out. I’m just here to make sure you’re protected. That’s why I’m the one carrying the gun. So if you’re sneaking out, then dammit I better be right by your side next time. I don’t care about the why or whatever. I’m just trying to do my job. And you make it pretty damn difficult when you go behind even my back, understand?” As I spoke, I pushed myself into his personal space and glared him right in the eye. But didn’t touch. Never touch unless it was absolutely necessary.

Milo bared his teeth at me and looked like he was literally going to pounce down my throat. Insufferable spoiled rockstar who always got whatever he wanted and—

He slouched. “Fine, sweetheart,” he bit out with a pissed off snap in his voice. “Next time, you’re comin’ with.”

I leaned a little closer. “Good.” With that, I whipped around and stomped back to the door, yanking it open. “Goodnight, Mr. Greer.”

He waved me off dismissively. I pulled it shut firmly behind me, but didn’t slam it.

Out in the empty hallway, identical to every other hallway, I closed my eyes for a moment. Trying to calm myself down. I rubbed my eyes and went to my hotel room on the other side of the wall from Milo’s.

“You look frustrated,” my roommate, the band’s manager and the lead guitarist’s partner, remarked. “You find him?”

I inhaled deeply through my nose and sighed out of it. “I found him.”

They smirked. “Did you have to ping the GPS in his phone with your hacker whiz skills?”

I rolled my eyes. “No. Thankfully.”

“Do I want to know where he was?”

I blinked several times. “No.” I turned toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna shower and go to bed. I had to chase that moron halfway across Kennedy and I'm exhausted. Next thing I know I’m going to be hunting him down while he’s getting frisky with a cowgirl or cowboy or someone in Mont Blanc. And if I do, I might actually lose my mind.”

Asher's partner crossed their legs on their bed when I paused in the bathroom doorway. "You ever wonder if he's acting out like this to get your attention?"

I stared at them for a moment. "Wh... why the hell would he do that?"

They shrugged. "I don't know. Because you're hot?" they suggested. I scoffed. "I'm serious! You're attractive and I've seen him sneaking glances at you when you're not looking and he thinks no one else is!" They sat forward on their bed.

"That's not why he's sneaking out. He does this at least once a tour because he gets sick of the band."

"And he always does it in Kennedy."

I shook my head. "Nope. Last time we were in Borden. The time before we were in Mont Blanc. He's only done it in Kennedy once before."

"You've paid that much attention?"

"Had to. It's my job," I said. I ducked into the bathroom. "See ya in a bit."

"Or not! I might spend the night in Asher's room."

"Okay." I shut the bathroom door behind me and yanked off my jacket to reveal my gun holster. After unbuckling that, I stripped everything else off and got in the shower.

—

Baaabe

I knocked on Asher's door with the same knock we always used to signal one of us was there. A pattern Asher had come up with that had taken me about seven tries to actually get right.

Barely three seconds later, the door opened. "Baaabe!" Asher whispered, beaming broadly and ushering me into his room without a moment's hesitation. I fell immediately into his arms and let him kick the door closed as he tucked me into his arms.

We took whatever time we could while on tour to be alone together. It was rare. Most of the time, at least one member of the band or crew was within at least earshot. If not direct line of sight. Most nights everyone slept on the tour bus as it drove to the next city. Not the most comfortable of beds or the best of sleep. Where Milo found the energy to kept engaging the audiences at every performance, I still had no clue. I wasn't the one on stage every night and tours left me absolutely wiped. How the band did it... I didn't know.

Well, except Ash. I knew where he found the energy. He'd been a coffee addict since before the band became famous enough to do tours. According to David—who had known Asher since they were pretty much born—Asher had been stuck on coffee since he was sixteen.

"Did they find Milo?" Asher asked as he tugged me toward his bed. It was a rare night on tour when we got to be alone in a hotel, and we were going to make the most of it.

"Of course they did. Milo could disappear to the bottom of the Bermuda Triangle and they'd still be able to drag his short ass back."

Asher's muscles relaxed under my fingers. "Thank God," he breathed. "Now we get to have fun without the anxiety of that looming over our heads."

I snorted. "As if you were ever actually worried." I tilted up onto my tiptoes—Asher was so tall—and puckered my lips just a little.

He bent down immediately and met them in a kiss, one hand cradling where the back of my head met my neck. Quickly the kiss turned hot and heavy, Asher digging his fingers into my body to keep me close. I felt him bump his legs against the bed.

Before he could react, I pushed him down onto it.

"Whoa—whoa!" He hit the mattress, shaggy warm black curls splaying out over the white duvet with his head thrown back in a smile. "Mmm. Miss me, babe?" he teased.

"What are you talking about? I see you every day."

A lazy, playful smirk bloomed on Asher's stupidly handsome face, white teeth stark and glittering against his bronze skin. "Well sure. But not alone. Not—" He bucked up at the hips and caught mine, dragging me down onto the bed on top of him. "Not private." He kissed me. Sloppy and heavy. "Not like this—with no chance of David or Milo turning the corner and finding us. For the first time in weeks, it's just you and me. All alone. No where to run. Nowhere to hide. No one trying to find us." He pulled back enough to wink. I snickered—

And planted a hand on his chest, pushing him down into the bed and away from me. "Are you gonna behave, Talbot? Or am I going to make you behave?"

A wild gleam flickered to life in his eyes. I felt his breathing speed up under my fingers. "I don't know, babe," he said breathlessly. "I might be feeling a little naughty."

I raised a brow. "We'll see how long that lasts."

I trailed my hand on his chest down his torso, lifting all but one finger to trace the line between his abdomen muscles. His eyes rolled back and his eyelids fluttered.

I paused with my fingertip low on his torso, just above the waistband of his pajama trousers slung low on his hips. "May I slide these off?"

Asher nodded. Fervently.

I didn't move. "Both?"

Another nod.

My other hand rested on his hips. "Use your words, Asher."

"Yes—God—please, babe."

I smirked and hooked all my fingers around the waistband of his pajamas and underwear. "Ready for a long night?"

"I've been dreaming of it," Asher said.

—

Angel

"I miss Tank," Asher remarked, leaning back on the folding chair he'd dragged onto the stage while we were all prepping for tonight's concert.

"We all do," David said softly, setting a hand on my mid-back to edge around me from behind with a case for part of his drum-set in his other hand. "But they made their choice to leave the band behind and we're going to respect that."

"Well duh," Asher retorted. "But, like, remember their energy? I miss the chaos."

"I don't," his partner—the band's manager—muttered. "Do you know how many fires of theirs I had to put out? I love them but they're a troublemaker."

"Besides," Milo threw in, a cord for something wrapped around his arm, "I thought you liked bein' lead guitar now."

Asher opened his mouth, thought for a moment, then closed it. Milo burst out laughing.

I drifted over to where David was setting up his drum set and sat on his usual stool. "Nervous for tonight?"

He glanced up at me, spinning something into place. "Not particularly. All things considered, I have the easy part."

I scoffed. "You do not."

"I keep the rhythm. It's not like I have notes to worry about."

"You have the hard job. You're the foundation of the whole song. Keeping the rhythm can be hard—and also your instrument has more parts than all the others. Except maybe the keyboard. And you have to remember which drum and which symbol to hit when. I think that's a lot to keep track of."

David almost cracked a smile. "Well, one of us is a musician, and one isn't. I think one of us is more qualified to speak on the difficulty of my part in the band than the other."

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe. But you have a habit of undercutting for the sake of humility and it's boring." I spun around on his swivel stool while he rolled his eyes and pulled one of his snare drums out of its case.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Curious—since I rarely got notifications right before a concert even as the PR manager—I pulled it out.

Tank: How was the Kennedy show last night?

I smiled. "Hey! Speak of the devil," I said.

David looked up from where he was setting up the snare's stand. "Tank?"

I nodded. "Asking how last night's show went in Kennedy." I was already texting them back.

Me: It went really well! There were very few technical issues (apart from Milo's mic having a funky connection during testing but we got that fixed) and I thought it was a great success. Got a lot of pictures for promo stuff.

David nudged me off of his stool and sat on it himself so he could put a cymbal stand together. I just stood there, watching the bubble of Tank's reply appear with the dots that showed they were typing.

Tank: Sounds great! You should check out the replay of the Dahlia concert of House of Solaire that they did last night. Right after intermission ;-)

Me: Am I going to find shenanigans?

Tank: Mild shenanigans maybe. Nothing illegal. Nothing certain members of MatW didn't already agree to.

They sent a quick follow up text with a YouTube link to The House of Solaire's verified YouTube channel. A specific video on said channel.

I paged through it quickly. Someone had marked "chapters" in the video of each individual song.

Until I found one that was most definitely not a House of Solaire song.

Scrunching my eyebrows, I put a Bluetooth headphone in and started the video from there.

My jaw dropped.

I disconnected my headphone and sat in David's lap, starting the song over. He made a grunt of protest before he realized what I was doing, and watched House of Solaire perform "Tougher than You"—with Tank. On stage.

A wistful, nostalgic look crossed the tilt of David's eyebrows and angle of his mouth before quickly vanishing. "Some things don't change," he muttered, lifting me off his lap to go back to work.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He scratched the back of his head. "We made a fairly decent amount of money in this band before Tank took their hiatus—or retired. Whichever. But in all that time, I've only ever seen them play that one guitar. They could have bought a new one. A nicer one. A better one. They never did. They treated it like their baby. Not surprised they still take meticulous care about it."

I smiled as I went back to the text thread. "Maybe they'll return to performing, one day."

David shrugged. "Maybe."

I texted Tank back.

Me: OMG! So good to see you on stage again! Definitely haven't lost your touch. 100/10 would recommend. Vincent did the rest of the vocals justice, I can give him that. We miss you <3

Tank: I miss you all too. But that's what dinner and the club is for when you all return to Dahlia. You are Going to meet up with me and No One is allowed to protest.

Me: Aye-aye, Captain!

They replied with a single emoji—flipping me off—and I threw back my head and laughed.

Milo wandered over with his gold mic stand in one hand. "Did I hear 'Tougher Than You' over 'ere?" he asked.

I switched back over to YouTube and showed him, Asher and Christian drifting closer over the course of the song.

Asher looked sad. "That's the sound I miss. I can never replicate it."

"You do a good job!" Asher's partner reassured him.

"It's not the same as when they do it," he mumbled, drifting off as the song ended and I paused the YouTube video again.

Me: I showed the rest of the band. Milo was smiling. Asher got kinda sad. Christian didn't react and David seemed a little nostalgic.

Tank: Wow. The big guy reacting visibly? I might pass out of shock XD

Me: We all miss you a lot

Tank: I know. But I'll see all of you soon Tank: Speaking of... what's the MatW tour schedule again? Have a screenshot you can send me?

Me: Of course. Let me dig it up. One sec

—

Tank

"So... who all knows about this?" Sam asked as we took our seats in the stadium. He hadn't been back to his hometown here in Mont Blanc in years—The House of Solaire tours always skipped it, opting instead for Atlanta due to some of Sam's bad memories in Mont Blanc—and seemed a little fidgety. Looking around like he might see people he knew.

In a leather jacket, a graphic T-shirt, jeans, and boots with his sleeve tattoos hidden and his distinct black piercings removed, no one in this crowd recognized him. Despite the fact that Milo and the Wolves and The House of Solaire shared a massive portion of fans.

Then again, this crowd had seen me perform on this very stage a few years ago, and none of them seemed to realize who I was either. One of Sam's flannels hiding one of the tank tops I used to perform in and a baseball cap on my head, I didn't even merit a double-take.

"The PR manager, the manager-manager, the security team, and Milo," I replied, settling into my seat. "That's it."

Sam looked around. "We're on the front row, darlin'. Dontcha think Ash and David will recognize you?"

I scoffed. "David won't be able to see me past the stage lights. He's too far back to make out anything in the crowd. Ash plays on the other side of the stage and won't be looking down here.

"If you say so."

The wait for the concert to start always seemed so much longer on this side of the stage. Backstage, I knew Asher's partner was running around frantically making sure everything was ready. Milo was pacing in the dressing room, wringing his gold-painted mic between his hands in order to not mess up his hair. David's partner, the PR manager, would be sitting in David's lap, letting him hold them tight enough to crack ribs if he squeezed just a little harder. Asher would have his head down on the makeup station, practically biting into his own arm to keep from clenching his jaw.

All that was missing was me sprawled out on the couch of the dressing room, spinning one of David's drumsticks between my fingers and needling them all to get them to chill as my own way of coping with nerves.

The band didn't get stage fright, but they were always anxious for everything to go well. Every show.

A playlist of old rock hits and a few new ones was filling the stadium as a crowd of fans filtered in. I kept the brim of my hat low just in case, and Sam looked stubbornly straight ahead. A few stage hands were putting the finishing touches on the setup. A few of them finishing the final soundcheck. The base drum of David's set rippled as it was struck, making the band logo flash in the stage lights.

Then the stage lights turned off and the stage was left empty, set up for each person. Any second now, tucked into the backstage clutter of equipment, the band's PR manager was setting one last thing up, hidden from the others. Aided and abetted by the band's main bodyguard and main manager.

"Waitin' feels long on this end," Sam remarked. "Nothin' to prep. No nerves to work through."

"Yup," I agreed.

"This what it's like every time you fly out to a show on the weekends with Vincent's partner?"

"Yup."

Sam swore under his breath. "I'm sorry."

I shrugged. "It's always worth it to watch my man perform." I leant close and pecked a quick kiss to his neck so I wouldn't bonk him with the brim of my hat.

We only exchanged a few words for the rest of the waiting time.

Until I snickered.

"What is it, darlin'?"

"Hear that?" I nodded toward the speakers in the ceiling playing the rock music.

"Yeah. 'Through the Fire and Flames.' Dragonforce, right?"

I smirked. "I begged David to let me put this on the playlist when we were first setting it up. Everyone else thought it was a little too much. I'm surprised they left it in the lineup after I backed out."

Sam gave me a look. "They care about you more than you think," he said.

The house lights faded out. The crowd's chattering went silent and still.

"Hello, and welcome!" a prerecorded announcement from a DJ friend back in Dahlia boomed over the speakers. We used to get a new one from him every year so it always sounded just a little bit different. "Everyone give it up for Milo and the Wolves!"

The crowd erupted into cheers and screams and whistles and clapping. Sam dared a glance around at the crowd, slightly curious.

My friends—who had been my only family for so long—ran out onto the stage, taking their positions.

Milo's eyes found mine immediately and he winked before waving at the crowd. "Good evening, Mont Blanc!" he called into his gold-painted microphone. "How's everybody doin' tonight?"

Sam passed me a pair of earplugs as the cheering grew even louder. We both put some in.

"A'right, a'right. Not bad," Milo said, exaggerating his East Coast accent a little. "Who's ready for a great lineup for tonight?"

More screams.

Milo nodded, pacing back and forth. "Good. As most of you know, we're on our 'Winter Solstice' album tour. But we got a few of our more popular hits sprinkled in too. I think you're all gonna have a great time tonight. Should we get started?"

The roar swelled.

Milo sucked the back of his teeth and sighed, pacing back toward Asher. "I dunno, Ash. I don't think they're ready. What do you think?"

Ash leaned close to his own mic. "I don't think they are." He chuckled. "What do you think, Mont Blanc? Are you ready to get started?!"

The cheers and screams were so loud it hurt even with the earplugs in.

This was the crowd I remembered. The House of Solaire crowds were loud and rowdy, but they were a lot of alternative rock fans. This was the true rock-and-roll crowd I loved.

"A'right. I think they're ready, Ash. Shall we?"

"Let's do this!"

Milo glanced back at David, but said nothing.

The same way Sam did, David knocked his sticks together to signal to the rest of the band the rhythm before slamming them down on his drums at the same moment Asher opened on a power chord.

Milo and the Wolves didn't believe in gentle openings. A stylistic choice leftover from when I was writing the instrumentation.

I smiled.

I knew every song. This was their second album without me, but they always sent me the album early. I could play along to every single recording by the third week, usually.

Their fifth song in, they played one of the popular ones from an old album. One I'd written.

Fighter's Spirit

Sam held my hand through most of the concert but let go of my hand so I could pretend his wrist and arm were my guitar's neck to play along out of sheer habit and muscle memory. He didn't seem to mind it so much.

"Baby, you know I got a fighter's spirit— "Can't give up, won't give in— "Know it's bad but ya gotta hear it—"

I'd written it based on something Milo's mom had said to me once. She and David's dad had been better parental figures to me than my own. Marie had once looked me dead in the face and told me I carried the spirit of a fighter lodged in my throat, barely bitten back by my teeth. Gabe had joked when he overheard that I was a wolf in human form, just waiting to bite someone.

And the name of the band had been born.

During a brief interlude so Milo could take a drink of water and work the crowd, Sam turned to me.

"You miss this, don't you." It was phrased like a question, but his voice made it a statement.

I blinked. My eyes were stinging a little. I hadn't blinked in several minutes, it felt like. "I... to an extent." I swallowed. There was a hollow feeling in my chest. One that the cheering around me made yawn wider—though the cheering used to fill it. Because it wasn't for me this time?

Sam squeezed my hand. "You're allowed to miss it, even if you don't want to go back to it," he remarked.

I didn't reply. I did miss this. Severely. But did I not want to go back?

Jury was still out on that.

A heavy bass line from Christian opening the next song after Milo's brief break to take a drink cued me on which song they were starting next.

Asher had written it, but back when I was still in the band and he played the bass instead of lead guitar.

I sang my harmonies and fingered the chords on Sam's arm while he smiled. As if I didn't catch him mimicking David's movements. We were both musicians and we felt our instruments in our souls.

A few more songs passed, Milo introduced the band to uproarious applause, and before I knew it, Intermission had arrived. The band ran off the stage to go dry off the sweat and change out of T-shirts and into dry tank tops. Where the crowd would certainly go wild at the sight of David's arms.

David felt like a brother to me and I'd never been attracted to him particularly but damn his arms were something else.

Of the band, I'd always been the only one to spend the whole concert in tank tops.

People filed out of the stadium for a break.

Sam turned to me. "You can go back, you know," he said softly. "You know these guys would take you back in a heartbeat."

I sucked in a deep breath and sighed. "I know."

"You wanna go back?"

"Yes and no. After Quinn and Nomadic... I just... you know what they tried to do to me. My image and reputation. Backing out of public life seemed the best idea at the time. And Asher's been a great lead guitarist."

Sam made a face. "You know we listen to y'all's albums on the tour bus while we're tourin', right?"

"You've mentioned it before, yeah."

Sam nodded. "Asher's a good lead guitar, sure. But he doesn't have the raw power you brought."

"Meaning what?"

"Asher..." Sam sucked in a breath. "Don't take this the wrong way, darlin', but you play like you're desperately fightin' to get somethin' outta you. It makes your sound heavy and raw. Ash doesn't have that. You can feel the difference between how he plays your songs and how you do. His technique is perfect but the feelin' behind it is all off." He made a face.

I mimicked it. "We'll see."

The rest of intermission was spent in silence between us.

Fact of the matter was, I did want to go back. But I couldn't admit that to Sam or myself. I didn't want to leave Sam. We'd end up seeing each other even less than we already barely could with him being the only one touring.

Get through tonight. Then unpack those feelings, I assured myself.

Eventually the house lights dimmed again. The band came back onstage. With no preamble or gentle opening to ease the audience back into the mood, they rocked into an opening. I smiled at the looks on my friends' faces. Still a little sweaty but mostly dried off. Absolutely high on the adrenaline of performing.

The crowd went nuts the whole song while I laughed and sang right along with them.

When the band reached the bridge of the song, I started to subtly unbutton Sam's flannel I was wearing, keeping it closed so my black-and-gold marbled-looking tank top was still hidden. One of my favorites to perform in, a couple years ago.

They reached the end of the song and I slouched in my seat, slipping the ball cap off my head and handing it, my earplugs, and the flannel to Sam.

Milo waited until the crowd settled a little. "Welcome back! Hopefully, everybody's had the opportunity the make their way back to their seats. Because we have a special surprise in store for everybody."

A few cheers. Scattered, and a bit confused. Most of the crowd seemed to just be waiting with bated breath for Milo to get on with it.

"It's been a couple years since we played this next song on tour. It never felt right, without the writer of it with us. You get to be the first ones to hear us play 'Tougher Than You' live on stage since Tank retired."

I saw David and Asher exchange a confused look.

Milo smiled conspiratorially at the crowd. Caught on the jumbotrons. "Because Tank is here tonight and gonna play it with us."

Asher's jaw dropped open and David's eyes widened as I popped out of my seat and hauled myself onto the stage. I whirled to face the stadium and waved, knowing the cameras were all on me.

The screams were loud enough to nearly knock me over. Milo threw an arm around me, lowering his mic to his side. "They never hated you," he said quietly. "Quinn failed."

I smiled at him and went to go get my guitar from backstage.

David shook his head. "Oh you sneaky motherf—" I didn't catch the rest because I turned away but I didn't need to catch it. I knew.

David's partner was beaming backstage beside Asher's partner and the band's security lead, holding my guitar out for me by the neck.

Grinning, I snatched it and threw the strap over my head, rushing back out with one hand held high, a pick flicking out of my leather cuff and into my fingers. I took a spot on the stage where I used to stand. Asher had taken a few steps back to give me room at his mic, plucking out the rhythm guitar part to remind himself what it was.

David knew this song even better than Sam did. So I didn't bother giving him a chance to count off the rest of the band before slamming into the opening.

Everything came naturally. Easily. Milo sang with the biggest smile on his face I'd ever seen during a show. I was at home, leaning my back against Asher's on the harmony. Feeling the stage lights' heat bead up sweat on my forehead and neck, David's drumbeat strong enough to sway my heartbeat to follow it.

Like I'd never left the stage behind.

Sam was right, I thought as I struck a hard chord. I do play like I'm fighting to get something out of me.

Because I was. I was fighting to get the music I felt in my soul out of my soul so the audience could feel it the way I did.

I'd written Tougher Than You from the perspective of me telling it to an ex of mine.

Now I sang and played it to Quinn, the same way I had onstage in Dahlia with Vincent and Sam and Alexis and Frederick. He'd allowed me to take a step back from the rockstar life—but he hadn't knocked me down permanently. I would always get back up and fight whatever he tried to do to me. I was tougher than everything that bastard could have ever thrown at me. I'd chosen the stage-name Tank as an inside joke. But it felt right now, in a way it hadn't before.

I was at home. With my band on my stage and my audience cheering me on with excitement.

Milo was right too. They never hated me.

As we hit the last note of the song, letting it sustain over the absolutely wild crowd, I panted with the biggest grin on my face.

I could get used to this feeling again, if I let myself.

Asher slung his guitar down its strap until it was upside-down on his back. I did the same, knowing what was coming. He crushed me into a hug, holding me tight. I ignored the slight stinging in my eyes. I was a damn rockstar—I wasn't going to cry onstage.

"God, I missed you, Tank," he said.

"Missed you too, buddy."

Milo rushed over and hit the hug on my side.

Next thing I knew, David was there too, arms encircling all three of us.

The crowd was still going wild.

When the cheering started to die down, I ran my guitar offstage and went back to my seat. Sam handed me my earplugs first, then my hat and flannel. Thankfully, the people sitting on either side of us respected us enough to leave us alone. And, to their credit, still didn't seem to recognize Sam.

—

Angel

"Tank!" I shouted, running across the backstage area after the concert was over. They held their arms out, letting me slam into them in a hug. "That was incredible!"

They laughed. "Thanks. Glad I could make it in time for Mont Blanc."

Sam chuckled from behind them. "Surprisin'ly, me too," he said softly. "Good reason and good way to come back."

I smiled at him too. "Thanks for accompanying our guitarist here," I teased. "Heaven knows they need it."

Tank glared at me playfully. I beamed.

David pressed a kiss to my head as he passed by. "Don't mind my menace too much, Tank," he remarked. "They do enjoy teasing."

Tank shrugged. "Feels like home, Davey."

That earned them a growl and an eye-roll.

I kept holding onto Tank in a hug. "So! What did you think?"

Tank glanced at where Milo, Asher, and Christian were helping the crew disassemble everything. "I'm gonna be honest, I missed this like hell. I wanna come back."

Asher's head whipped over at those words, smiling.

"I don't know if I'm ready just yet, but if you ever want me back..." They sniffed and wiped a quick, small tear that had escaped their eye. "I thought this was going to be one last show with this band. But I don't know if I'm ready to fully give it up."

"We'd take you back in a heartbeat," Milo said.

"Less!" Asher agreed.

Tank smiled. "When I'm ready, I'll let you know."

Sam kissed the side of their head. "There's my darlin'," he said quietly. "I knew the rockstar was still in there."

They laughed.

—

Tag list: @zozo-01 @thegoldenlittlerose @shellssstuff @darlin-collins @icedunderwaterroom @ajfromabove

#Redacted ASMR #fic #Redacted Audio #Redacted Milo #Redacted Sweetheart #Redacted Asher #Redacted Babe #Redacted David #Redacted Angel #Redacted Darlin'#Redacted Sam #Starlit Fic #*gasp* Starlit is actually writing a little bit again!?#Yeah... I've been blocked for a while...

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