#but i seriously cannot wait to move on to different projects

[airasilver]

'Heart of Glass, Mind of Stone' by LylaRivers:

Here's the link to the first story and then go from there. You won't regret it.

I love this so i wrote a lot.

Under the read more because I know it's long.

It's so long and while I know most wouldn't have minded, hopefully, the replies following each other I didn't know how much AO3 would letr do. I think they are all in order but I had them in notes until I put them here so I'm not promising.

I love the way Tim just follows them and then decided to talk to Jason.

Tim doesn't even know how much he saved Jason and the family in general just by doing so. I'm so happy he met his brother and dad, even if he's scared, because yes, it got them looking for him and hopefully it'll bring him home faster.

^ Tim just wishes there wasn’t a massive secret hanging over their heads. He wants to tell the older boy that he knows about Robin- that Jason is a hero, that Tim has admired him from afar for years. 

He can’t, though. He doesn’t want Batman to try to put a stop to his nightly outings for good. Moreover, he doesn’t know what exactly Batman will do to him for figuring out the secret. ^

Jason will be flustered and then happy to know he's one of your favorite heroes. Take you into the family. That's what Bruce will do.

^ Ooops. Tim did not mean to reveal that. “They’re on a business trip. They’ll be back in a few days.” 

It’s one of the first true lies he’s told Jason. The lie sits heavy in his stomach, curdling the joy of being invited over to simply hang out.^

Tim, baby, you are going to need a lot of hugs and love. I'm prescribing your oldest brother's hugs. The others will help hug you but not as much as Dick. Love, you'll get from everyone. You're also going to find that it'll be coming back to bite you.

^ “I’ll let our housekeeper Ms. Mac know, since she watches me when my parents are out of town, but she should be fine with it,” Tim says. Another lie, this one tinged with truth, but still factually incorrect. Ms. Mac watches the house. He just happens to be in the house some of the time. ^

Yeah, you're good at this but I hope it'll clear up soon.

^ “Dick?” Tim asks. He’s pretty sure Jason is referring to Richard Grayson, the first Robin, but he probably shouldn’t know that.

“Yeah, my older brother. I cannot believe that any sane human would decide to use the nickname Dick for Richard. Like, seriously? There’s about a million jokes just built in, and you can’t counteract any of them, ‘cause you chose to call yourself after a literal penis. Rich and Rick were right there ,” Jason grouses. 

“Richard seems kind of formal,” Tim says. “I know that I hate being called Timothy. It’s what my parents call me when I’m in trouble.”

“Oh, the power of the full name,” Jason agrees wisely. “I have never seen someone drop out of the air so quickly as when B pulls out the ‘Richard John Grayson Wayne’ when Dick is about to break something by flipping on top of it.”

“What’s it like to have a brother?” Tim asks. 

“It’s mostly like being an only child, since Dick is older and we didn’t grow up together,” Jason explains. “B actually adopted me after Dick moved out. He comes by on weekends and we go out for ice cream or to the movies or whatever. He has an absolutely endless supply of terrible nicknames, which I suppose I should have expected, since he literally goes by Dick .” ^

I can't not think of him as anything but Dick. Rick, just makes me shudder and Rich would do the same. Just wait...you'll be getting full named soon if you haven't already, Jason.

^ Nightwing is the whole reason Tim was able to figure out the identity of all of the Bats. ^

I love how every story that brings Tim in differently has something like this in it.

^ “It’s one of my earliest memories. I have a picture somewhere, of us. Me, and my parents, and the Flying Graysons.” 

Jason bites his lip. “Dick doesn’t have many pictures of his parents. I don’t think they really had time to take family photos in the circus. Certainly they didn’t have a place to keep many photos.” 

“Do… do you think Dick would like to see it?”

“Probably. Like I said, I don’t think he was able to keep much from the circus."^

This makes me smile because Tim gives Dick back his parents in a way. With technology they should be able to do the picture of the three of the them...though I don't know how they take Tim out if Dick was holding him.

I love how Jason just casually mentions kidnapping his baby brother. Who’s freaking a bit because he did.

^ But Tim knows better than anyone how anything can be armor to shield a completely different personality with enough practice. His parents wear politeness and impeccable manners as a shield for the multitude of problems at home. Brucie Wayne is a shield for Batman- and possibly for the true Bruce Wayne, as well. 

What is Dick’s sparkling exterior a shield for? 

Tim is stabbed by a sudden shot of fear. “I don’t know where the picture is,” he whispers. 

Jason turns around in the front seat. “Don’t worry about it, Tim.” He might as well have told Tim not to breathe. But he also doesn’t have time to give in to the worry, because Alfred pulls into the driveway at Wayne Manor. ^

His anger. When he lets it out. Don’t worry Tim, you’ll be able to give it to Dick, let him see it later on.

Tim, you'll be lucky to leave Dick's arms...I'm exaggerating but nope, you won't be able to sneak around.

^ Tim crawls out of the car seat, carrying both backpacks. “Hi,” he says. “I’m Tim Drake. It’s nice to meet you.” Again. ^

Okay but this is making me think of Tim in a literal car seat.

^ Dick gasps, and covers Tim’s ears dramatically. “Jay, how could you use such language?” 

Tim ducks away. The skin on his ears feels warm and tingly where Dick’s hands were. “I’ve heard worse,” Tim says.^

Get used to it Tim, you’re the baby brother and you’ll be having this done a lot.

^ Tim doesn’t like missing information. Knowledge is power, and Tim needs more of it. ^

We sure Tim is Jack’s son? Because this is totally Bruce.

^ “I’m hurt! I’m wounded! My only brother, declaring me an asshole? What did I ever do to deserve this?” Dick asks, pressing a hand to his forehead.^

For now Dick, for now he’s tor only brother.

^ He can’t remember the last time he had a homemade cookie. If ever.^

You’ll soon have as many as you want Tim….hopefully soon.

^ “Yeah,” Tim lies. Being a bother is a much easier excuse than ‘I’m afraid you’re going to lock me up forever for knowing your secret’.

“Allow me to dispute this, Master Tim. You have been remarkably helpful with Master Jason’s infirmity, and with minimal prior friendship as reason for the help. You are one of the first friends that Master Jason has been motivated to bring home, infirmity or no. You are, in fact, the exact opposite of a bother.”^

Alfred would know. He knows everything.

^ “Bold of you to assume we’re capable of acting normally,” Dick says brightly. He launches himself into a front handspring, and leaps at Bruce. Bruce catches him, and backs away from the table.^

Bruce will always catch his kids if he's near them and they leap at him. Always.

^ “Could be worse,” Dick offers. Jason raises his eyebrows. “You could be dead,” Dick says. 

No one laughs.^

Dick, baby boy....if only you knew. Thank the Lord that you don't in this 'verse.

^ Tim wants to soak this warmth up like a sponge. He wants to recall every single moment of this joy, and bottle it up like one of his mom’s expensive perfumes. 

Is this what having a family feels like?^

It is baby boy. It is.

^ The conversation moves to other topics, and Tim can let his mind run wild. He has one shot to get this right. He needs to come clean, without making it weird. 

It’s going to be weird. He has to have an escape plan, too. They won’t want him to stay over if he tells them the truth, will they?

Will they?^

They'll want you Tim. You'll see.

^ Dick meets his eyes. For a moment, Tim wants to berate himself for bringing up his own memory, but Dick’s eyes are shining with gratitude. “I don’t have many photos of us, all together. Thank you,” he whispers. “Can I give you a hug, Tim?” 

Tim drops his backpack, and lets Dick wrap his arms around him. “I didn’t want to bring up bad memories. But you should have a copy of it,” Tim whispers. 

Dick squeezes his arms tightly. “I’d much rather have it, and be reminded, than not have anything at all. Thank you.”^

This made me cry and smile at the same time.

^ “Oh no, Dick got you into his tentacle-like clutches,” Jason says as they enter the den. “Tim, I hope you know that I’m not saving you. Every person gets to fend for themselves against Dick’s death hugs of doom.” 

“I don’t mind,” Tim says. 

“Jason,” Dick warns. 

“What?” 

“Why don’t you tell Tim about your experience with touch starvation, since he seems to think it’s normal.” Dick says as he drags Tim to a seat on the couch, not once letting go of him.

“My parents touch me,” Tim says, not even sure why he’s trying to defend them. “I mean… not like that. You know what I mean. They’re just not big cuddlers, that’s all.”

“Tim, you looked like you were about ready to cry when I hugged you. That’s not normal,” Dick says quietly.^

Tim is gonna gets lots of touch from his brothers, dad, and grandfather. He needs it. It'll also make it a bit easier to understand why he could follow them alot.... hopefully. (I want a Nightwing hug now.)

^ Jason casts a critical eye over the fort. “I dunno if there’s enough room for three in here, and you’re always complaining about how your back hurts when you sleep on it wrong…” he says. He grins when Dick pushes his lower lip out further, and furrows his brow. “It’s fine with me if it’s fine with Tim,” Jason says. 

Dick turns pleading eyes on Tim. 

“I’d like it if you stay,” Tim admits, sitting at the entrance to the fort. “I don’t want to keep you from patrol too long, though,” he adds absently. Then he freezes, realizing what he said.^

I don't know why this has me laughing but it does. Probably because of how Tim just blurts it out.

^ Screw it. He was planning to tell the Bats he knew tonight anyways. “Patrol. Because you’re Nightwing,” Tim says confidently. 

Dick raises his eyebrows. “What makes you think that?”

“Quadruple somersault,” Tim explains succinctly.^

Yep, Dick's fault. I love you Dick but this is totally your fault.

^ Bruce rubs his temples. “Dick, what did I tell you, over and over again, about style points?” 

“I’m a reckless showoff who’s going to endanger all of our identities, and style points don’t actually count for anything anyways?” Dick asks. 

Bruce splays both hands out in front of him, eyebrows raised. “And here we are,” he says. “I’m very impressed. Wraith . How long have you been sneaking out at night to follow us?” 

Tim grimaces. “A while?” 

“Define ‘a while’,” Bruce says, crossing his arms. 

“More than one year,” Tim hedges.

“Give me a more exact number.”

“Like… four years?” 

Tim can see the exact moment this settles with all three vigilantes, as they do the math. “You were running around the streets of Gotham at nine ?” Dick asks.^

Tell him Bruce! Why are you shocked Dick? You were his age when you started.

^ “So were you!” Tim retorts.

“Boys.” Bruce interrupts.^

Total exasperated dad here.

Love how Bruce started looking into Tim before this. They might have had an idea it was him but didn't know for sure.

^ “Jason, what was the ratio of actual business meetings to nonessential archeological digs?” Bruce asks, looking over at his younger son. 

“Like six to one in favor of archeological digs, in terms of actual trips,” Jason says. “In terms of time spent, the ratio was way higher. I don’t remember the exact number there, but I ran the report.”

Tim pales. He’s pretty sure the bottom has completely disappeared from his stomach. That’s… a lot of time. His parents always made it seem like their traveling was for business, and the archeological digs were a brief vacation in between business meetings.^

Ouch. That has to hurt. It hurts me just reading this.

^ “Drake Industries is primarily an American company, with few international contracts or interests,” Bruce explains. “Those few overseas holdings are primarily in Europe. As far as I can tell from the travel receipts and dig permits, any travel in Asia, Africa, or South America was archaeologically based.” 

That’s a lot . His parents have spent a lot of time in both the Middle East and South America- neither of which, apparently, have any Drake Industries assets at all. Tim can feel his eyes well up with tears. This is… he had no idea. Years and years of ‘we can’t possibly let the company down’, and ‘do you want to be the reason hundreds of people can’t feed their families, Timothy’, as excuses to leave with as little fanfare as possible- and that’s all they were. Excuses. Blatant, horrible lies with minimal grounding in reality. ^

Now I hope Bruce gets custody soon. Tim needs the family and probably therapy....if that'll work for him.

^ “I would like you to stay over, indefinitely, while your parents are out of town,” Bruce says.

“You can’t call CPS,” Tim says, shooting up with a sudden burst of energy, and breaking away from Dick’s loose hold. “You can’t . I won’t go into foster care. I’ll disappear.  I’ll… prove to the world that you’re actually Batman.”

“I’d prefer to talk to your parents, first, before any more drastic measures,” Bruce says. “That being said, it’s not safe for you to be living alone, particularly when we are more than willing to take you in, right next door.”

“You barely know me,” Tim counters. 

Bruce meets his gaze steadily. “I know enough,” he says calmly. “More than that, though, I will not willingly leave any child in a dangerous situation, particularly when there is a perfectly reasonable solution at hand.”

“That’s… that’s fine, then,” Tim says. Immediate danger dealt with, he lets himself collapse into Dick again. Tim pushes his head into the hollow underneath Dick’s shoulder, hiding his face so nobody can talk to him. He’s quite done with upsetting revelations for the night. ^

I know it's hard Tim but it'll get better in time. It'll take time but it will.

Thank God they were there for this panic attack but now I'm sad that Tim probably had others no one was there for and he didn't know what was going on. Sometimes you don't remember if you had any. Especially of they weren't as severe.

^ “Alright,” Bruce says. “You said that you don’t remember this ever happening before, right?” 

“Nope. Zero out of five stars, though. Would not recommend or repeat the experience. I’m exhausted.”

“I’m not surprised. Panic attacks use up a lot of energy,” Bruce says. 

“Can confirm,” Jason adds. He slides from where he was perching on the side of the couch to fully sit on the cushion. Tim never noticed him moving closer to them. “Panic attacks suck major ass. And yes, Alfie, this is a moment of distress, so I’m claiming exemption from the swear jar.” 

“Entirely fair, Master Jason.” 

“You…?” Tim starts to ask, but he can’t quite finish the sentence.

“Number one, living  alone on the street tends to leave some scars. Also, I’ve had a few traumatic experiences since then and now.”^

As I wondered above, Tim might have had some but can't remember or maybe he just slept then. At least Jason is helping even if it's to finally help Tim's curiosity in figuring out what happened.

^ Hopefully, he’ll finally get his suspicions confirmed. 

“Yeah,” Jason agrees. “But given that you've already had a panic attack this evening, how ‘bout we not talk about that tonight. ‘Cause it ain’t a pretty conversation.” 

“ I’m going to hold you to that,” Tim says.

“If you stay here, you’ll have plenty of time to hold me to that,” Jason agrees.^

Good reason Jason and good way of getting Tim to stay even though he's already agreed. Can't hurt to makes sure he is staying for sure.

^ “I’d rather stay down here,” Tim says. “We already got all these blankets out and built the fort. Also, where did this blanket come from?” He gestures to the weighted blanket around his torso and legs. 

“It’s one of the spare weighted blankets,” Dick explains. “The first time I used one, I fell asleep in like fifteen minutes, instead of lying awake for hours. After that, Bruce decided we needed about six more.”

“You can keep using that one if you like it,” Bruce says. 

“It’s nice,” Tim says. “Never heard of it before. But I like it a lot.” ^

I've tried a weighted blanket before and it didn't work for me. I'm glad it did for Tim. I just pile on blankets and then kick them off. (Probably why the weighted blanket didn't work.)

^ Bruce stops to hug both Dick and Jason. To Tim’s surprise, he stops to study Tim for a moment, then slowly and carefully leans in to hug Tim, too, before leaving the den, closing the door gently behind him.

“Do you need to go be Nightwing?” asks Tim from his cocoon. He doesn’t want to give up the comforting warmth of Dick holding him, but he knows that Nightwing has more important things to do than coddle one overemotional teenager.

“Nah, I’m the responsible adult for the night. Alfred’s running comms in the cave for B, so someone’s gotta be up here to make sure you don’t burn the house down,” Dick says. “I should probably change out of my jeans, though.” ^

Tim, you are more important right now. Besides Dick loves to cuddle, especially if it's his family.

^“Look, rich people compare the size of their stock portfolios the way normal people compare the size of their dicks.”^

Thank you for this image. Never seeing stocks any other way now.

^ “From what B said, it could have been so much worse,” Dick says. “You managed to take on the Joker, alone.”

“If B had gotten there even five minutes later, I probably would have died,” Jason says.

“The Joker?” Tim asks. “You said something about your bio mom and a car accident- clearly it wasn’t a car. But was your mom involved?”

“Oh, yeah. She did actually kidnap me, and tried to hand me over to the Joker to pay off her drug debts, to make a very long story short,” Jason says, voice forcedly light. “It sucked. Zero out of five stars.”^

Damn. He really is lucky.

^ “You’re so mean to me, Little Wing. You’re killing me- your first, oldest brother. I’m dying, and it’s all your fault.”

Jason rolls his eyes as they walk into the kitchen. “Dick, I’m your only brother.”

“B has an adoption problem. I’m sure it won’t be long until I’m not your only brother.”

“Hm. Pretty sure two adopted children isn’t actually classified as a problem.”

“He impulse nabbed me after my parents fell to their deaths during a show with him in the audience. He impulse nabbed you after you stole the literal tires off of the literal Batmobile,” Dick lists off. “With a track record like that, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time until B sees another sad orphan or needy child that he’s just desperate to swoop in and save.”^

Your new brother is walking with you both right now. Giving Tim a hint, Dick? It seems like it.

^ The rest of breakfast passes in a blur. Tim has never had a breakfast quite like this one- fresh baked goods, company, light conversation, and delicious coffee that he didn’t make himself. It feels totally different, basking in the warmth of the kitchen against the chill outside. Bruce seems genuinely interested in what his children have to say, once he’s drunk enough coffee to wake up. 

Tim could get used to this. ^

Get used to it Tim. Once Bruce has custody, you will enjoy this for the rest of your life.

^ This is it. This is the ‘it’s been lovely, but you’re far too much trouble, and we’re going to lock you up forever to keep you from telling anyone our secret identity’. Or maybe they have some gadget that can wipe his memory. 

Tim forces himself to look at Bruce, despite the fear. Bruce rests both hands palm up on his lap. “I want you to feel safe here,” Bruce says. “That includes feeling like you can voice your opinions, and state your preferences. If you don’t enjoy a particular food, you don’t have to eat it. If you don’t like an activity, within reason, we will try to minimize the time you spend doing it. Obviously, homework and household chores need to be completed, but any optional activities are just that- optional. If you are interested in something, we will do our best to accommodate that interest. Do you understand me?”

It sounds too good to be true. Tim can barely believe what he’s hearing. 

But, Bruce’s words logically line up with his actions over the past two weeks, the few times he has interacted with the man behind the mask. In private, Bruce has been nothing but a loving, attentive father, who just so happens to go out in a leather and kevlar suit to fight crime at night. 

Tim wants to believe. ^

When Brucw says something he usually means it. He means this so believe Tim.

^ “I know, but it’s a big house,” Bruce says. “It’s okay to have boundaries- both on your time, your space, and your interactions. If you’re not ready to interact with them, they can wait to come back into the room, or you can go into a different room."^

Bruce is so patient with Tim. Dick and Jason really helped him out that way.

Tim is confused but he is going to learn and get help and love from his family.

^ On the one hand… doing something with Dick Grayson , the original Robin. On the other hand… he still doesn’t know the rules here. He can’t just change the schedule… can he? 

“Come on,” Dick says. “B converted one of the smaller ballrooms into a gymnast's heaven, cause he’s an extra Dad like that.”

“It was better than cleaning up broken glass from the chandeliers that you shattered in the first few months of living with me,” Bruce mutters. 

“What was that, Bruce?” Dick asks, smiling with all his teeth. 

“I mean I love you so very much, my wonderful eldest child,” Bruce says louder. Then he turns and winks at Tim. “Alfred and I cleaned up a lot of glass that first year. And cuts from glass. The gym was absolutely worth all the effort and expense for decreasing my gray hairs.” ^

Go have fun with your brother Tim. You love him Bruce. Also, how many ballrooms do you have? It's got to get more than three if you converted one into a gym for Dick and now Jason and Tim to use. (That way they don't always need to go down to the cave to get a workout done.)

^ Every so often, as they work, Tim has to stop and mentally pinch himself. Dick Grayson, the last of the Flying Graysons, the first Robin, is teaching him how to tumble. 

It’s a dream come true. It’s something he didn’t even know he could dream about, even. What are the odds that Dick Grayson would just teach some random kid gymnastics.

“Actually, the odds are pretty good,” Dick says with a laugh when Tim makes the mistake of saying it out loud. “I actually teach acrobatics at a gym in Bludhaven, so I do work with a lot of kids. If you’re in a position to know about Robin and Nightwing, the odds aren't actually that bad.”

 “It’s just a little surreal,” Tim says. 

Dick ruffles his hair. “Welcome to the Batclan, kid.”^

I love this part. Dick is so patient and just treating Tom not as one of his kids at work but family. The end of the chapter helps prove that. The boys are going to have a great relationship.

^ Tim darts across the hall to his parents’ room. This room too is lifeless- cold, sterile, impersonal sheets. No decorations or photographs along the walls. The only indication that someone lives here is the ornamented wedding ketubah between Janet and Jack Drake hanging over the bed. ^

I wonder....is Tim being Jewish canon or is it fanon? Because Bruce also seems to be Jewish in alot of stories. Dick, I think is nonreligious and Jason is Catholic. At least in a lot of fanfics I read, Jason is the only one in canon that I know of that was given an actual religion and that was an AU. (Okay, I just finished 'Robins Being Robin' and Bruce, according to Dick isn't religious. So I'm guessing it's headcanon/fanon for at least Bruce being Jewish.)

^ “It was that or be caught,” Tim says shortly. “I had some close calls that first year.”

“How close?” Bruce asks. 

“I wasn’t always as good at hiding as I am now. There were a few close calls, I think ‘cause of light reflecting off my camera lens or something. But I’ve always been pretty quick on my feet, so when I saw someone coming my way, I scampered, and no one ever caught me. No one expects to see a kid out that late.”

Bruce slowly exhales. “Tim, the reason no one expects to see a kid out that late is because it’s dangerous.” 

“Jason and Dick both did it,” Tim defends himself.

“That’s true,” Bruce acknowledges. “But, Jason and Dick also both had immediate adult supervision, both while out in Gotham and afterwards, in case they were injured. I didn’t let Dick patrol alone until he was sixteen. Jason has never been on patrol alone. I’m very impressed with what you’ve accomplished, but I also want to impress on you just how dangerous it was. You had no direct supervision, and no one at home if anything went wrong. It sounds like you were extremely lucky that first year.”^

Bruce is already becoming Tim's parent. Tim is defensive though because he is used to his life and not really getting I trouble...at least for leaving the house.

^ “Except for attention, support, and adult supervision,” Bruce says immediately. “Tim, children cannot and should not be left on their own. From a purely scientific standpoint, your brain isn’t developed enough to take care of all of your needs. Recent scientific research actually suggests that the brain isn’t fully developed until age twenty five, particularly the areas surrounding executive function and impulse management. From a more emotional standpoint, children need constant love and affection to grow into healthy adults.”

“I’m not a child,” Tim protests. “I’m a legal Jewish adult.”

“Which only became true this year, and has no bearing on your status under common law. And besides, teenagers also need consistency and comfort,” Bruce says immediately. “If you were left alone for only a few hours at a time, with regular adult supervision, we would be having a different conversation. But being left alone with minimal supervision is a serious detriment to your health and well being- not to mention exceedingly dangerous. 

“From a purely practical standpoint, you are simply not old enough to take care of many of your needs. As Dick pointed out last night, you can’t drive. While you’ve clearly done an excellent job adapting with the city bus and your bike, it’s still dangerous, here, more than anywhere else. This is Gotham . Surely I don’t need to tell you about the dangers of our various villains and the prevalence of organized crime in this city.”^

Okay, I will be shocked if Tim isn't Bruce's kid by blood. (I know, I know) He's to much like his dad and they haven't even really been a family yet.

^ “My life just got turned upside down, and it’s only gonna get worse when you call CPS on my parents and I get dumped into the foster care system,” Tim says, just as bluntly. “No one wants me. Ms. Mac seemed thrilled to not have to take care of me. Clearly my parents don’t want me that much, either. Bruce is only doing this cause he feels bad.”

“Maybe Ms. Mac is thrilled, as you say, because she was worried about you being alone,” Jason says. “I know I can’t really speak to the actions of your parents, besides being horrified at you being alone. However, I can safely say that Bruce doesn’t ‘just do’ anything. Some people dress up in a leather fur suit and fight crime to cope, and some people impulsively adopt sad children to cope. Bruce just so happens to do both, because he’s richer than G-d and can afford a crazy hobby and to support a bunch of traumatized children who also are filled with rage and want to fight crime.”^

Jason is such a good brother.

^ “Eh, we figured out pretty quickly you weren’t a threat,” Jason says. He leans over to ruffle Tim’s hair, and Tim lets himself relax. “How did you know to seek me out, anyways?”

“This is gonna sound stupid,” Tim mutters.

“Can I come sit next to you?” Jason asks. Tim nods wordlessly.

Jason shoves himself to his feet gracelessly, and sits next to Tim on the bed. “Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t complaining,” Jason says quietly. “If B hadn’t been there, totally in the loop like he was, I woulda died. Full stop. If he had been even a few minutes later than he was to rescue me, or if he hadn’t even known I was gone, the Joker would have blown me to smithereens. Your warning saved my life. If you saw something on the street, or knew something was going to happen…”

“It was nothing so certain,” Tim scoffs. “It was just a feeling I had. I started Bat Watching at the end of Dick’s time as Robin, and there was this… distance between the two of them. In those days, I wasn’t good enough to get real close to Batman and Robin, but I overheard plenty of arguments.

“You had that same distance that developed really quickly, between you and Batman. But you’re a lot younger than Dick was, so it’s not like you could really strike out as your own hero as you are. I just…” Tim trails off. He still can’t quite put his finger on why he was so compelled to intervene.

Jason lets Tim pause and gather his thoughts.

"Okay, there was one other thing, but it's going to sound really stupid.".

“I dress up in traffic light colors and fight crime every night. Try me.”

“I had a dream something was going to happen,” Tim says quietly.  He feels stupid even uttering the words out loud. 

“Weirder shit has happened,” Jason says. “Have you had any other dreams that have come true? Or have you had any dreams you’ve acted on and changed an outcome?”

“Dunno.”

“Might be a latent meta gene,” Jason muses. “Or who knows- the multiverse is a strange place, and sometimes events from one timeline bleed over into another. It doesn’t really matter, one way or another. I’m just glad this timeline didn’t get fucked to hell and back, for whatever reason.”^

I just adore this part for some reason. Probably because I know canon and the way you wrote this part is so good.

^Did you, really?” Jason counters. “Tim, I know you’re not thrilled about having your life turned upside down, but the way you were living wasn’t healthy- and I say that on good authority, given that I lived on the streets for a few years. Dickie will expound on this until your ears fall off, but humans are pack animals. We’re not meant to be alone, especially as kids. People need other people.”

“My parents say that needing people makes you weak, and people will always disappoint you.” Their statement has certainly been true enough in regards to his parents. Tim honestly can’t say he’s had enough experience with other people to make a judgment call of his own, though.

His stomach lurches uncomfortably. His parents could have told him anything, and he would have believed it. Was this just one more way they lied to him, so he’d let them leave easier?

“I’m just gonna come out and say it, Timbit, your parents sound like shit,” Jason says bluntly. He wraps his good arm around Tim tightly, pulling Tim almost entirely on to his chest.

“I have a home to live in, and food to eat, and…” Tim starts to say, not totally sure why he’s defending his parents. It’s not like they ever defended him.

“And no one there to help you,” Jason cuts in smoothly. “Yeah, I’ll agree your circumstances ain’t exactly dire, compared to living on the street. But also, abuse comes in a lot of forms- not just physical. There’s emotional abuse, as well as neglect. Just because they never hit you or starved you or whatever doesn’t actually make them good parents, Tim.”^

I think Jason will get through to his little brother a lot better than Bruce. He's closer in age and had delt with a lot of things like Tim has.

^ Jason ruffles his hair. “I know, baby bird. But we want to convince you that what’s happening to you is wrong. Bruce wants to help fix it, but we can’t do much if you don’t let us.”

“Baby bird?”

“Do ya like it? Dick is fond of bird themed nicknames, for somewhat obvious reasons, knowing our little secret. If I’m Little Wing, and he’s Big Bird, that makes you Baby Bird.”

“It’s a lot better than anything else you’ve come up with,” Tim says, managing to sound grumpy despite the warm glow the nickname brings. The nickname, more than anything else that has happened in the last twenty four hours, convinces him that whatever is going on here is genuine.

“I mean, I’m not likely to abandon all the Tim themed nicknames in a hurry,” Jason warns. “It makes you puff up like a lil Robin yourself, and you get all indignant about it, which is totally satisfying, and I fully understand why Dickie likes doing it to me.” ^

I love how the baby bird nickname is brought in here.

^ “Bruce has a terrible adoption problem. I’m sure you’ll get to experience the joy for yourself.”

“You and Dick keep talking about Bruce’s adoption problem. What does that have to do with me?” Tim asks.

“Is it not obvious?”

“No.”

Jason pulls his head back, so that he can look at Tim fully. “Tim, I’m pretty sure the next victim of Bruce’s adoption problem is going to be you.” ^

Truth. Tim won't believe it but it's true.

The way Jason explains mental illness and the way Tim listens and breaks and then just packages it away....hurts. Baby boy needs help and he'll get it. It'll be slow but he'll get the help he needs. Slow, because Tim needs to learn how his parents are abusing him.

^ It takes barely one week to settle into a rhythm. It almost seems as if he’s lived here his whole life. ^

This sums up exactly what I'm thinking as I read this story. Tim, has become such a part of the family, it seems as if he was always there.

^ Tim presses his fingers against the glass surrounding what looks like the very first Robin suit. “This looks thinner than your suit.”

“I’m trying not to think about how you’ve gotten close enough to me as Robin multiple times to know that,” Jason says dryly. “But yeah, back in the early days, Dick mostly wore spandex. Or something similar, I think. After a few close calls, B finally convinced him to add some armor. It helped that Wayne Enterprises was testing out a super light armor weave at the time. Dick doesn’t like to be weighed down.”

Jason leads them through a wall of suits. “Here, of course, is my favorite suit- the Discowing. I have no idea why Dick thought fighting crime with his chest on full display was a good idea, but damn is it fun to tease him about it.”

“There’s not very many Nightwing suits here,” Tim observes.

“Yeah, Dick keeps his suits in Bludhaven for the most part. He only deigns to let Bruce display the really old outdated suits. Hence, Discowing.”

“He pulled it off.”

Jason gives him a sharp look. “He absolutely did not and never, ever, say that to his face. Come on. Let me show you the trophy room.”^

I love Dick but come on Tim. Dick doesn't have the best sense in fashion or keeping himself safe with his suits. At least he has family to help give him some armor....even if it's not as much as they want him to have. (Maybe he has more now in canon.)

^ “The penny and the T-Rex were before my time, so no idea how B got them into the cave,” Jason says. “I can tell you the story behind some of the other trophies, though. Dick tells the penny story best.”^

I actually want to know how Bruce built all of the cave without it being big news. Especially when he started bringing in some trophies, like the Penny and the T-Rex. Do any of the comics say, tell how he does it?

^ “Can we look at something else?” Tim asks quietly. The love that the Batfamily has for each other permeates the walls. Tim can’t even imagine his parents doing the same for him.^

Just wait Tim. You'll soon have your own place on the walls and will realize how much they love you.

^ “‘Kay, so you know how Dick was ten when he started out? Yeah, he thought it was hilarious, and B’s too much of a softie to try to change any of the names now.”

Tim giggles. He’s unlocking so much new Batman lore- he’s pretty sure he’s died and gone to Bat Heaven. “That’s amazing .” He walks back towards where Jason is sitting. ^

Considering the comics I just read had everything the same, just whatever their viligante name was, it seems as if it will follow every Bat.

^ Tim loses himself in looking at crimes across the city with Jason. He offers Robin several insights that the older boy praises as helpful. With every compliment, Tim glows with internal warmth. He’s helping to make a difference. His insights are valuable . It’s been a rare feeling in his life, and Tim chases it with the same intensity he might seek water in the desert.

He had no idea how starving he'd been, until he’d been fed. ^

I love this so much. Jason's just giving Tim compliments, like he should have had, and Tim is slowly realizing that he's never really been given any so when he gets some? He's hoaedinf them close.

^ Tim nods seriously. He may never have seen Alfred upset, but he can easily picture the kind of chaos the older man could wreak if he were so inclined.^

Alfred runs the family. Bruce might be the head of it but Alfred runs it. There's a reason why people are afraid of him.

^ “Well, as civilians Dick and Barbara Gordon were always hanging out and flirting, and Robin and Batgirl had the exact same flirtatious vibes, sooo…”

Dick slams his head on the table theatrically. “Am I your explanation for everything?”

“If Timmy could figure out this much about you just by watching, imagine what he’ll be able to solve as Robin,” Jason says.

Tim turns to stare at Jason. “What?”

“Oh, sorry, was that not the foregone conclusion when I graduate, eventually?”

“But… you’re Robin.”

“So was I, incidentally,” Dick says. “It’s not a gig that lasts forever.” He glares at Bruce. “Not that that was my intention at the start, though.”^

Yes, Dick. You are the answer to Tim figuring everything out. You always will be.

^ “Robin was my mom’s nickname for me,” Dick explains. “I chose the name to honor her when I was hunting down their killer. Robin became so attached to Batman, though, that when I was trying to step out of B’s shadow I changed my name. Someone decided it would be a good legacy superhero identity.” He ends this speech with a pointed glare at Bruce.^

Bruce is trying. He at least apologized and I can tell it helped because Dick and Bruce seem much closer.

^ He wants to join in the bantering and laughter, but he can’t quite figure out how. It’s so different from the silence he’s used to.

But maybe- just maybe- he can get used to it.^

You will soon Tim. You'll get used to it and then join in.

^ Tim stares at the email in dismay. “Bruce. Bruce, what do I do?” he whispers, holding the phone out to him.^

This opening sucks but it also shows how much Tim trusts Bruce to come right to him about his parents returning.

^ “Two things,” Bruce says. “Tim, I need you to look at me for this, please.”

Reluctantly, Tim pulls away from Bruce. “I’m listening.”

“Number one, we’re going to get you a wire and camera,” Bruce says. His eyes are steely and cold- Batman focused, even in civilian clothes. “The Commissioner has some gear for me to give to you, that should be easily concealed. We need to be able to prove neglect- try to get them to talk about how long they’ve been on their trip, about who’s watching you at home, things like that. Audio recordings will help us present an airtight CPS case that all the money in the world won’t let your parents wriggle out of.

“Number two, I’m giving you a Bat panic button, just in case. If something happens that endangers your physical safety, I want you to press that button, do you understand? If you are in physical danger, for whatever reason, we will come and get you, consequences be damned.”

Bruce doesn’t blink. “Tim. Do you understand me? We will get you out. I know that this is uncomfortable, but if we want to keep you- and we do, make no mistake- we have to play by the rules.”^

I'm hating why Bruce has these rules but I'm so glad he does. I'm also glad it seems as if Gordon is involved. It'll help if the Drakes find the wire and the camera...which is why Bruce had Jim get involved. That and they want to get Tim home to them for good. To do that, it has to be legal.

^ Still, it doesn’t stop the pit from forming in his stomach. He hadn’t been aware how much he thrived on being around people until it was taken away. He misses seeing Dick hanging from the chandeliers, Bruce’s inability to function until he has at least one mug of coffee in his system, Jason’s constant companionship, and Alfred’s silent but reassuring presence and sharp wit. He misses the constant bantering tossed from room to room- Jason’s sharp street drawl mixed with Dick’s excited tone.

Drake Manor is as silent as ever. Now that he knows what he’s missing, the silence is oppressive. Tim has the desperate urge to sing, or talk, or scream, or something , just to make the halls echo.^

You never has things like that before Tim. Once you had it, you want it all the time.

^ He misses the Waynes. He misses dinner with life and laughter- Dick perching on chairs, Jason arguing with anyone who will participate. He misses the warmth of eating with three or four other people who actually want to be around him.

He misses Alfred’s cooking. Ms. Mac is a good chef, but he had no idea just how much of a difference it made to have the food cooked fresh, not out of a microwave or reheated. ^

You miss your family. That's what you miss. Family that cares. Ms. Mac cares but you know for sure that the Wayne's do.

^ His father is angry . Tim wants to cower in his room and hide for the rest of eternity. “Do you want me to sit with you while you eat?” Tim asks. He’d rather be anywhere else.^

I thought Janet was bad with her distain for Jason...Jack's worse. He's going to hurt Tim isn't he? Not just verbally but physically also.

^ “Remember whose company this is, and remember where your power comes from,” Janet retorts. Her eyes are cold as ice, and her voice could cut diamond. Tim hides a shiver. These moods are rare, but dangerous. “Timothy. I expect you to act as perfectly befits the Drake heir. You will stay away from the gutter filth. Do you understand?”

Tim breathes out slowly. “It’s pretty pathetic that he needs so much help in school,” he says, matching his mother’s coldness with his own frozen tone. “I would certainly never seek him out.”^

I always thought Jack married in and just kept the name. This seems to help my headcanon on that fact.

Tim is more Janet than Jack in a lot of things. Like his tones in canon and fanon.

^ Tim stares at his reflection in the mirror. “It’s only a few hours,” he says aloud. “What’s the worst that can happen when we’re all offline?”^

A whole lot. Especially since you'll be getting hurt probably. Hopefully it'll help you get home faster...even if I dont like it.

^ Jason’s eye twitches, but he doesn’t argue. “Twenty four hours,” he says, instead. An apparent non-sequitur- but a subtle reminder that the end is in sight.

“Twenty four hours,” Tim agrees quietly. He takes his cup of punch and moves away from the table. Jason gives him a small smile, but blessedly doesn’t follow him. ^

Less than that because your parents mess up. Of course Tim follows their rules and he'll still mess up according to them. Why they ever had him and kept him I'll never understand. (I'm glad but I won't ever understand.)

^ “He approached me. As a fellow classmate and gala attendee, it would have been impolite to not acknowledge him,” Tim says calmly. “Additionally, he believes we are friends, or at least study group partners. It does not benefit Drake Industries for me to act otherwise, as Jason Todd-Wayne stands to be a major shareholder in Wayne Enterprises one day.”

“You smart mouthed little bastard,” his father snarls. He unbuckles his belt. “Where is your respect for your mother? Jacket off.”

Tim takes a very deep breath, and holds himself with steel in his spine. “I followed my mother’s directions, in keeping my friends close but my enemies closer.” Sorry Jason , he thinks.

“Jacket. Off,” Jack snaps. “If you can’t get respect through your thick skull with words, I’ll just have to beat it into you.”

Tim holds his breath, and looks at his mother. Janet Drake has already closed off, emotions hidden behind a carefully constructed society mask.

“Well?” Jack demands. “You have thirty seconds before I take the jacket off for you. Now.”

Resigned, Tim takes his suit jacket off. All he can hope is that this will be brief. Before his father can ask, he takes off his shirt as well, making sure the button cam is facing towards the scene.

That’s all the comfort he’s going to get.^

For now baby boy, for now. This will help your case and the Drakes can't say it was forced on you or anything else because Jim Gordon helped make this happen to get you away from the Drakes.

^ “Get up,” Jack orders. Wraith slowly pushes off of his arms, and turns to face him. Facing his father makes reality sink in, and Tim rises to the surface, shaking and shivering.

“Pathetic,” Jack sneers. “You can’t even take your punishment like a man.”

Tim sniffles, and moves to put his shirt back on. His father sneers at him. His mother watches over the scene, serene as she was at the gala. “I wasn’t aware men still got whipped with belts,” he mutters, against his better judgment. His back hurts , the pain overruling his normally iron control.

“Say that again,” his mother orders.

Tim puts his suit jacket back on carefully, and turns to face his parents. He holds himself straight and tall, just as they’ve always ordered. “I said I wasn’t aware men still got whipped with belts,” he repeats.

“He’s inherited your hot head,” Janet says to Jack. She grabs Tim by the collar of his suit jacket, and drags him to the front door. “You can come back in when you’ve cooled down,” she says, opening the door to the outside. She pushes him outside.^

He's a fucking kid who just got hit ten times and told the truth, what he thinks is the truth, and you say he's hotheaded? Tim's exactly like you Janet! Exactly!

Bitch. I hope this brings you both down and the company goes to Tim, all of it. You locked your kid out in winter just because he talked back. You deserve everything coming for you. Everything.

I'm so proud of you Tim. You asked for help. Yes, you waited a bit but you still asked for help. That took courage.

^ The warm glow that was steadily building from the warmth, hot cocoa, and companionship is abruptly doused. “Oh,” Tim whispers. Right. His parents locked him outside of the house in the middle of February. And beat him repeatedly with a belt.^

It hurts to think about but it will help the case against the Drakes. You'll soon be home with your family for good. Not making the 48 hours isn't your fault, Tim. You did your best. It's your parents fault.

^ “Bruce?” Tim mumbles.

“I’m here, sweetheart. Can you tell me what happened?” Bruce asks.

“They locked me out,” Tim whispers. “They never really wanted me, did they?”

“I don’t know the answer to that,” Bruce says. “But that doesn’t matter to me. We want you, even if your parents can’t see what they’re missing.”

Tim flinches. Shouldn’t his parents want him?

“‘S like I told you before, Tim. Some people ain’t fit to be parents, but they procreate anyways,” Jason says. “On the flip side of that, some people would be great parents and they never have kids of their own.” ^

Bruce is a great example of this. The way he cares for his kids, for Tim who he barely knows, shows this.

^ Tim shrugs. He’s getting tired of all of these endless questions making him make decisions, when the decision is patently obvious. “Sure,” he says.

“Thank you,” Dr. Thompkins says. Tim watches dully as she pulls out her phone.

“Are you doing alright, Tim?” Bruce asks.

“Fine,” Tim mutters. Soonest done, soonest over with.

“I know it feels frustrating that we keep asking for your permission, but we have to verbally make sure that you consent to everything that Dr. Thompkins does,” Bruce explains. “It may feel very redundant, but it’s important that we document your consent throughout the process.”

“Okay,” Tim says.^

I don't think Tim really understands. He's trying to though. He's just so tired and just wants to be done and sleep.

^ “It’s hardly nothing,” Dr. Thompkins says. “The documentation we did today was important, and the damage could have been severe. Fortunately, most of the bruising seems to be higher up, away from your kidneys. Bruce and Alfred will have to monitor you for signs of kidney damage for the next few days, just to be safe. You can put your shirt back on, though. The cuts are all fully wrapped, Tim.”^

You might think it's nothing Tim but it's something. It is proving that the Drakes are abusing you and it's showing that you trust Bruce enough to go to him for help. You are helping your own case. Plus, as they said, it's better to be safe.

^ “Do you want me to get Dick to come pick you up?” Bruce asks.

“I can walk,” Tim protests. He doesn’t really want to, though.

“You look exhausted, though. Would you like to be carried?” Bruce asks.

Tim shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Bruce pulls his phone out again, and starts typing. “Dick and Jason are on their way,” he says. Tim shrugs again, and buries his head against Bruce’s chest.

“I hear you have a baby bird for me!” Dick says brightly.

“Good to be passed off?” Bruce asks.

“Kay,” Tim mumbles.

Warm, strong arms take hold of him around his legs and shoulders. “Come on, Timmers, let's get you into a bed,” Dick says.^

Let your family care for you Tim. I'm proud of you. You are making decisions and/or telling them if you can't think. You aren't hiding which is good.

^ Jason keeps up the soothing movements against Tim’s scalp. “How are you doing, baby bird?”

“I just want it to wake up from this nightmare.”

Warm hands cup his cheeks. Tim opens his eyes, and comes face to face with Jason. “It takes a long time. I still have times when I have to reprocess something that happened to me. But we’re all here for you, okay?”

“Kay,” Tim mutters, closing his eyes again.

“Go to sleep, Tim,” Jason says. “Everyone will still be here when you wake up.”

Tim wraps both arms around Jason, and falls asleep.^

You will Tim, you will. You'll wake up with your family and never leave them again.

[daryfromthefuture]

fic author self rec

tagged by @bg-sparrow!! thank you :D

also this was like FOREVER ago and then i forgot about it so apologies for the delay hfdjsfgdhjfasj

share five favorites of your own work, then tag five fic authors to do the same - okay, let's go

Until Get Home

When the train plot goes horribly wrong, Marty McFly and Doc Brown are stranded in 1885. How will they manage to adapt to a time so foreign to their own? Will they be able to preserve the space-time-continuum? And, most importantly: How will their adventures in the past impact their relationship?

you know this HAD to be the number one. i cannot pour my life and soul into a 100K word fanfic and not have it be my number one LMAO. but seriously, this fanfic means a lot to me. it helped me get through my first months in a foreign country, connected me with awesome friends and had me gain a massive appreciation for bttf part 3 (i love that part even more than i already have and watching it reminds me of this fic). i am also proud that this story carries some valuable messages and developes doc and marty even more. it was wonderful writing this, and it's also my first major story i finished. this is a love letter to bttf and bttf 3 in particular in form of a...well, book.

2. Most People Were Silent

Marty McFly had been stranded in the 1940s for a year, living with the younger version of his best friend, Emmett Brown. When Doc unexpectedly gets invited to join a secret scientific project, Marty and Emmett move to a small town in New Mexico. After meeting various new people and making his own acquaintaces while Doc works, Marty learns how vital it is to stay quiet - for the sake of everyone's safety. But not everyone has the same view...

is it wrong to put a not-yet-finished work on this list? maybe, but i, quite frankly, do not care because i adore this story. it had me come up with silly little ocs and throws me into a setting that interests me (i am a major history nerd and a way to connect it with my favorite character? YES PLEASE). and just wait until you see what happens next - you will definitely get why this is on second place >:)

on a side note, this universe is getting an expansion and becoming a trilogy, which i have titled "the trinity trilogy". writing this will kill me but i am so ready

3. In The Shadow Of The Mushroom Cloud

this fic doesnt have a summary, but it's my part of the "Stuck Through Time(lines)" - collab project we did in the discord server! once again a manhattan project doc fic with a different basic concept than my main one. this one was SO fun to write. i poured out those 12k words in like five days. i want that kind of motivation back, please. also i get to do what bob gale only dreams of and blow up the delorean

please also read the other contributions to this challenge!! all of the authors are so talented and i love their work :D

4. Winter of '84

Doc takes Marty to the doctor when Marty comes down with the flu.

i love me a good bttf prequel fic, and sickfic is one of my favorite tropes, so i was super shocked when i found out that the bttf fandom had like. zero of those. before winter of '84, there was november, but that's a post-trilogy fic, so it doesn't count lol. i'm proud of this one because it's just a cute piece of slice of life fluff, and i think it captures doc and marty's friendship super well.

5. Double Visions

Marty and Doc return from 1931, but Doc doesn't know half of the story.

a bttf: the game fic holy shit

i had wanted to write something of this kind ever since i first played the game in february 2021. as you can see, it only took me like, two years, but i did it! and i think it's great in the way that it covers everything i had in mind for this scene while not stretching itself. i loved writing the dialogue and emotional stuff for this story and like rereading it occasionally :)

i would like to tag...everyone who hasn't been tagged before. i have lost track.

thanks for the ask bg!!

[feifeixiv]

A Time and Place

“Seems they’re taking us seriously.” 

The Crystal Exarch broke their companionable silence first, though the soft and bouncing music exuding from seemingly nowhere kept the atmosphere from becoming too tense. Behind them, Alphinaud and Alisaie were examining gleaming portraits hanging from the walls in the prior hallway, the sounds of their footsteps quite comforting.

The Grand Cosmos lived up to its whimsical name.

Fei turned and met eyes with the now hoodless Crystal Exarch, vivid red irises though soft, were rather unnatural. But everything else was exactly as he remembered.

G’raha Tia. To say he had no suspicions would be a lie, but to put that face to this person made the entire mental exercise almost laughable. When Fei recalled the petulant, rather childlike obstinance G’raha could have, the calm and eloquent Crystal Exarch seemed an entirely different person. Perhaps though, it was the change that one hundred years in the First would bring, accompanied with all of its sorrow and loss.

Fei nodded, carefully tucking that thought away. “Seems to be so.” They crossed the threshold of the door, walking into what seemed to be an enormous, enchanted ballroom. Alphinaud and Alisaie’s voices faded into the music far behind them, leaving only the tinkling of the metal on Fei’s outfit and the thudding of their shoes. Figures dressed the part in Eulmoran finery spun and twirled, so transparent as to be figments of their imagination.

“What grace,” the Exarch mused, head tilted to one side. “I don’t sense any aether, so likely not spirits. Perhaps projections?” His question was posed to no one in particular, and did not pique Fei’s interest insomuch as the gentle sway of the Exarch’s skirts. Like he, too, wished he were dancing.

With a quick bite of his lip to contain a smile, Fei mentioned off-handedly, “My lord, did I ever mention what it is I do in the Source these recent days? When I am not here on the First, I mean.” The Exarch spun around, a curious glint in his eyes, hungry for the information being offered to him like a ravenous kitten.

“I was curious about the costume,” he admittedly freely, gaze darting down the expanse of bare skin before flushing with realization at what he’d done. His eyes quickly fixed back on the face of his champion, and saw the swell of a tiny, satisfied smile. Swallowing, the Exarch waved his crystalline hand. “It does seem rather conducive to the way you fight, so I thought not to question it.” 

Fei took a light step, graceful and poised, and led into it as he danced a small circle around the Crystal Exarch. The man’s eyes never left him, face filled with wonder. “I dance, in a troupe, for the people of Eorzea,” Fei laughed, reaching out and grasping the Exarch’s hands before he could pull away, tugging him into place.

The Exarch gasped. “Is this really the best time? The best place?”

“If man must wait until the most opportune time, the most opportune place for everything, will he ever get anything?”

And thusly, Fei began to lead, the warmth of the Exarch’s hand on his shoulder and the cool crystal of the other clutched in his own. Whether surprisingly or unsurprisingly, the Exarch followed in stride, steps a little clumsy with disuse but not incorrect, their waltz in perfect sync with the music, and with each other.

The only sound between them was their slightly labored breaths. Fei marveled at the lightness in the Exarch’s limbs as he gained his bearings, the ease of his movements. Though the song never seemed to end, though their dancing companions seemed not to rest, it didn’t matter. They moved together as one, and if the Exarch felt dissatisfied with being led, he did not let it show.

A twirl or two later, the two smiled at each other when their eyes met once again. “Even this,” the Exarch said. “Is there naught the champion of Eorzea, the Warrior of Light cannot do?”

“Don’t try to ask me to sing for you,” Fei said seriously, leaning down closely to the Exarch’s face as if speaking some grand secret. The breath caught in the Exarch’s throat, and though he looked nowhere else, he knew if he tried he could count every freckle on the Warrior of Light’s face. “Nashmeira and F’lhaminn both expended much of their efforts, but Fei Qian cannot carry a tune worth a damn.”

A small and somewhat exasperated chuckle escaped between the Exarch’s lips. Seemingly on their own, Fei’s eyes flickered down to them as something twisted gently in his heart, in the same breath. Before either of them really knew what happened, their dancing stalled little by little, step by step, even as they continued holding on. The music and the projections moved on without them, their perpetual reverie missing the two now lost in each other.

Fei’s eyes trailed back up G’raha’s sunkissed skin, following the harsh and geometric lines of crystal, until their gazes met. That feeling, that soft and tickling ache in Fei’s heart grew, and his lips parted to say something that refused to leave the tip of his tongue.

What do you say so candidly to the man who prepared for more than a hundred years to bring the world to its knees for the sake of your own salvation? Whose purpose and sacrifice revolved around the nigh-unattainable goal of preserving your life at the expense of his own?

“G’raha, I...” Fei hesitated, his thoughts such a whirlwind he missed the way the Exarch’s grip tightened, his eyes gleamed. He wet his lips. “After all of this is over, I--”

“This room is enormous!” Alisaie’s voice echoed over the music and like a frightened cat, G’raha leapt back to a safe and not at all compromising distance. Fei remained slightly hunched, the words he’d wanted so desperately to say swallowed back into his lungs. Unlocking the depths of his heart was too much to hold, too much to bear. The fear and doubt nearly swallowed him whole, the agonizing loss of love kept his words chained to his breast.

As the twins made their way over to them, Alphinaud’s curious expression speaking volumes while the Crystal Exarch shuttled them along towards their destination, Fei realized something. 

Perhaps, this was not the time or the place.

[safflowerseason]

as THEE (self proclaimed) biggest fan of bmtl—seriously, no one can know how many times i’ve re-read it—i’m patiently awaiting the new chapter :) can we please get an update!! we love you safflower!!!

Ahh, Anon, this was so sweet of you to send in!! I'm so glad to hear you love the fic and even reread it! I love all my BMTL readers.

Unfortunately I have not been very productive on the writing front in the past few months...this past spring and summer have been pretty crazy for me. I was traveling for about two months straight, I've moved *twice* and recently I've been dealing with some health issues that make sitting at a computer longer than I absolutely need to pretty difficult. So, it's been rough to find time to write in the midst of all that. BMTL is my beloved pet project and I will never abandon it, but I can't offer a specific timeline on the next update at this moment beyond "several months." But knowing there are readers like you out there patiently waiting makes a *huge* difference. Seriously, the power of comments and asks in relation to progress on the fic cannot be overstated 💞 If you are out there reading and rereading and want to share some thoughts or request a headcanon...I'm here! Come say hi!

[worldwright]

Good evening ! ill be reading crackships after the day i just had bc wtf

I finally could get my meds, had some issues regarding that, but my usual pharmacy was nice enough to not care and just handed me my meds for free (im not paying for those things, they don't work at all but i still need to take them)

Im so exhausted, I cant ;-; dont wanna be tomorrow, have a very important call that's useless i have to answer

I KNOW what I'm thinking about kinda sounds bad and is NOT a good idea AT ALL, but I just want to make another attempt, same as last time, just to get some rest for fuck's sake, don't feel rested since September and no news about the psych ward (i think they didn't actually add me to the waiting list, i know it's bad to insinuate that but it's france, everything mental health related is some real shit so it's not that farfetched)

but alas, i cant do that again, because first i like walking, second im waiting for 4 important things (my id, one of the two things i need for 'free' healthcare, the bad i ordered, and finally my doctor's eyes' appointment that i finally have, omg, ill be able to finally have some glasses that fit my eyes, oh do i want them now)

ugh, why am i dealing with so many medical issues, oh yeah i have free healthcare bc france but good lord would it kill them to actually do something that works for once ??????

also, unrelated, someone asked me if i sold or if i knew someone who sold drugs when we were on the bus, that was fun ngl. why would i go do smth illegal when i can be high with my prescribed meds if i dose them right lol

Have a wonderful morning my friend !

goddamn isn't it. so fucking fantastic. that nobody takes mental health seriously unless there's obvious tangible attempts at literal death. that being said you better fuckin not. who will kick the asses of the dickwads managing the psych ward if you don't

obviously I don't expect you to go commit violence lmfao, but like. spite

lol my manager keeps dropping more projects on me. it's like yeah I was confident I could finish those four drawings in time but now there are six. oh you have another one? bitch

I gotta start taking advantage of my medical insurance lol. I switched to a different plan that's ostensibly better, but it takes money out of my paycheck so like. I'm gonna go use that goddamn health insurance. funny how that works. luckily there's a clinic literally one block from my apartment

it's supposed to snow this weekend.... I need to stock up on groceries in case I get locked in (oh no how terrible, having to stay home oh nooooo lmao)

ughhhhh I need to move closer to my friends!!!! I cannot live alone I keep making too much food!! and I'm notoriously bad at eating leftovers!! looking at apartment listings is keeping me alive until I can fuck off out of Seattle

(not that I hate seattle, it's just too far from friends. also it's loud)

hope you have a wonderful and relaxing evening!!

[beaisdifferent]

Endorphins are Drugs

I feel so often like a big dog in a small apartment.  An animal trapped in a space that cannot accommodate me.  I pace the living room, I pant, I grow restless, anxious, until I finally turn and eat the couch.  ADHD in my brain is so often pounding on the sides of my skull, sending mice to skitter through my hands and feet, itching, itching, itching for relief.  Sometimes I don’t even know what it’s asking for, and as I pace within myself, I can become anxious, distressed, angry, and numb.

ADHD brains aren’t easily satisfied, it just seems to be part of the gig.  We’re the big dogs, paying taxes and managing the dating scene while we pace our tiny apartments and try not to eat the couch.  I have to be let out into a big field to run, run, run.

When I exercise, I escape the apartment.

Exercising releases endorphins.  Endorphins.  These beautiful little hormones are free drugs waiting to reward you at the end of your favorite means of moving your body.  They trigger happy feelings, they reduce the perception of pain, and they even serve as natural sedatives.  They make you happy, comfortable, and restful.  These are free drugs!  I’m only exaggerating a little bit!  When I’m pacing, when I’m anxious, when I just feel off, a run through my neighborhood, twenty minutes with my dumbbells, or a yoga flow, does so much to set me right, to make me feel like myself again.  If I’m feeling anxious, it feels like I redirect my fight or flight response, making my body believe that I’ve fought off the beast or outrun the raiders, and my anxiety no longer has any reason to make me feel anxious about any issue, real or perceived.

And while working out by no means has to be a vanity project, it does miles for my confidence.  I grew up watching the animated Justice Leage on my dad’s lap, reading Percy Jackson and Gregor the Overlander.  I love a woman with muscle, I want to be her.  Taking my muscle building seriously in the past months and watching my muscles grow, getting my own “Korra arms” is a serious satisfaction a long time coming.  I don’t always like the way my face looks, the way my hair works, or what I can do with my make up, but I like seeing the work I’ve put into it my body and feeling proud of what I can do with it.

You’ve probably heard a hundred different ways to exercise, most of them centered on losing weight, especially if you’re a woman.  Cardio this, cardio that, cardio, cardio, cardio.  The only way to lose weight is cardio, and losing weight is the only thing that matters.  It’s bullshit, ladies.  Do you know which exercise will actually best serve you?  The one that you will do.  I’m not a personal trainer or an exercise physiologist, the only authority I can speak with is half of a yoga teacher’s certification.  But I have had success in this field and want so much to share that success with you.  Whatever you like do to, whatever form of moving your body satisfies you is what you should be doing, because that’s most likely what you will continue to do.  And we all deserve to be let out into a big field.

Do you like to run?  Fantastic, treat yourself to a nice pair of running shoes and share your running playlist with me.  Do you like to lift?  Amazing, I can’t wait to see your superhero muscles.  Do you like Zumba?  Excellent, find someone on Youtube get your heart happy.  Do you like Yoga?  Yes!  Me too!  May we be as bendy and well-postured as Ty Lee, who was definitely inspiring to me as a child.  Do you like hiking?  Splendid, bring snacks and water and tell someone where you’re going, share your pictures from your latest hike!  Do you like swimming?  I’m jealous, low impact, muscle-building, and great cardio?  I’m so proud of you.

Guys literally, whatever you do that gets you moving, your heart rate elevated, and leaves you with that wonderful flood of endorphins and that day-later-ache that says “you really did something.”  Horseback riding, walking, dancing, body weight exercises, weighted exercises, biking, Pilates, whatever you like to do is great!  I got excited writing this and had to pause to do some pushups, and it’s like a little boost to my day, a bit of candy for my toddler brain and now it’s happier to cooperate with me.

If you’re like me, and have days where even the idea of people seeing that you exist is enough to make you shrivel, then don’t worry about being seen by people.  You can do so much in your own home, comfortably locked away from witnesses.  There are lots of exercises that don’t need a gym or even any equipment.  Just a few minutes of dedicated time, a good playlist, podcast, tv show, whatever floats your boat to happy, sweaty, restful endorphinsville.

If you’re neurodivergent like me, then you owe it to yourself to find every inch of wellness that you can get your hands on, you’re so worth it.  You don’t have to overthink it, you don’t have to have a goal of weight loss, you just have to explore some options, find at least one that you like, and reap the many benefits.  I can’t wait to see what you do, go be badass, I’m proud of you.

[janetbrown711]

“Why are you so nice to me” wakko or yakko max

To Wakko's delight, his brother kept good on his promise. Weeks passed and his brother devoted several days to restoring their bond just as it once was (the other days Yakko spent with Dot or with the both of them).

Heck, Wakko was so secure in his brother not abandoning him when Yakko asked if he could start up writing to Max again (at a much slower pace than before, he promised), Wakko said yes (barely) without hesitation. He knew that Max made him happy... and that he kinda owed it to Yakko to let him hang out with him again, as their little "not exactly falling out" was his fault (to him, anyway).

Everything was starting to seem... good- perfect, even.

However, Dot's birthday was rapidly approaching and Yakko was starting to get ideas.

"You know what we should do?" He said, lounging on the couch in the sunroom. "We should throw a ball for your birthday, Dot."

Dot perked up from her book. "What? Why? We never held balls for our birthdays before."

Yakko rolled his eyes. "That's because Grandma ruins everything. In this book I'm reading it says it was tradition for the royal family to hold big celebrations on their birthdays. I think it'd be fun- plus a great opportunity for you two to start making some friends."

Oh.

This again.

Wakko tried to laugh it off. "You'd have to get mum and dad to agree, and they've been pretty busy with the flooding in the west."

"Bah, that's mostly dealt with at this point. I'm sure they could use the break too," Yakko countered.

"B-but mom's coronation wasn't even that long ago," Wakko argued.

"It was over three months ago," Dot rolled her eyes. "I think a party would be fun," she looked to Yakko.

"Didn't you have fun at mom's coronation?" Yakko asked his middle sibling.

"Well I- I suppose I did..." Wakko thought back to the massive chalk drawing he had covered the floor with. It was pretty fun, and it made a lot of people happy.

"See? I'm sure a party in Dot's honor would be fun all the same- plus, making friends is great, I'm sure you'll love it," Yakko said with a reassuring smile on his face, though Wakko still wasn't quite convinced. However, he could see how much both of his siblings wanted this (even though the idea was only seconds old) and who was he to say no?

"Alright, I guess we can do that," He said, which made Dot clap in excitement as she began to detail everything she'd want for a party in her honor.

Wakko had a feeling this was going to be interesting.

.o0o.

As expected, their parents were ecstatic at the idea, and they spared no expense in attempts to create what they believed a much-needed celebration for the people of Warnerstock and their allies.

And to say it truly was Dot's creative vision would not be false. There were a lot of pinks- a lot, a lot of pinks. Though mostly tasteful, if you saw it it was hard to look away from.

But still, Wakko was happy for her, she was having the time of her life planning it all out with their dad, who was equally happy to spoil his little girl.

However, he knew deep down that despite what Yakko had sworn, her party was probably going to be very different from the coronation. He hoped it would be fun, but the more he watched decorations being put into place and talks about the guests and feasts the more he was beginning to worry.

He didn't say anything though, as the rest of his family seemed far too happy for him to want to bother them with his plight. They deserved this break, he was probably just being dramatic anyways. He'd be fine- and maybe make a friend just like Yakko said he would.

Wakko did his best to remain optimistic, despite the knots forming deep within.

It wasn't too long before the grand day arrived. Wakko had thought they had pulled out all the stops just for decorating but the day itself was insane too. Dot was showered in presents and even was taken out to town with William to go shopping for anything her heart desired, meanwhile Yakko, Wakko, and Lena stayed behind and supervised the final touches on the decorations.

Okay- really only Lena supervised, but Yakko and Wakko were technically there too. They didn't stay with her long, as she gave them a list of things to check up on so she could talk to some people which they were fine with.

Together, the brothers walked through the massive dining hall, checking curtains, flowers, vases, tapestries, etc. to make sure they were in the exact right places (not that the list really said where they were supposed to be) and checked them all off.

"So... are you looking forward to tonight?" Yakko asked, checking off 'left-most curtains'.

"Oh- uh- Yeah! I am... are you?" Wakko quickly said.

"Oh yeah, totally, it'll be great to see Max. It's been a while... you're still cool with that, right?" Yakko glanced down at him before checking another thing off.

Wakko nodded. "I won't try to prank or drive him away this time, I swear."

Yakko snorted. "I know you know better, I'm just asking if you're okay with me hanging out with him for tonight instead of you."

"Yeah, I am. You did say I should make friends after all," Wakko said, fiddling with gloves. Yakko looked away from the checklist and gave his little brother a side hug.

"I'm proud of you, you know that?" Yakko asked.

"Yeah, yeah," It was Wakko's turn to laugh.

"I'm serious-" Yakko let go and punched Wakko's arm lightly. "You're doing great. You should be proud of yourself too, you've come a long way."

Wakko smiled a little. "Maybe."

Yakko chuckled. "Well, it looks like we're just about done with this list. Wanna go turn it in to mom and go get changed into uncomfortable suits and greet guests for hours on end, or do you wanna just double and triple check the list until the last second?"

"Definitely check the list," Wakko laughed too.

And so the brothers did, until Lena caught wind of their shenanigans and forced them to start getting ready for the party (though they did cut a lot of time so technically they still regarded it as a win). At least those outfits weren't the worst they've ever worn (they were pretty confident nothing would ever top how itchy and miserable their funeral outfits were). Still, standing around and greeting people was a dreadfully boring job, not to mention awkward until their father and Dot eventually came to join them and actually do their job properly.

They knew their mom was busy, but leaving the two of them in charge was a little questionable.

Plus, after all that interaction, Wakko was starting to feel weird. Tired, but also not-? It was complicated. All he knew was that he wanted to be alone and maybe pace for a while, that'd be nice.

However, the party was to start in not too long, so he really didn't have time for that. He followed Yakko around for a while to the main party room where the people they had greeted before were all chatting amongst themselves. It wasn't too loud yet, but Wakko's tail twitched nervously as he weaved between people and conversations.

He hadn't been this nervous at the coronation- Wakko really wished he could figure out why he was feeling this way. Alas, he was unable.

He did feel a little better as Yakko and he found a spot of their own to chill in for a while, away from all the people.

"A lot of people came to this shindig, huh?" Yakko joked, "though probably no more than those who attended mom's coronation."

"Yeah..." Wakko said, trying to compare them mentally.

"More kids though, which is really good for you and Dot to make friends," Yakko said.

"Yep, yep," Wakko feigned enthusiasm.

"Are you okay..?" Yakko asked, causing Wakko to straighten out his act instantly and nod.

"Of course," he said. Yakko frowned.

"You don't have to lie you know," He remarked. Wakko bit his lip.

"M'just a little tired," he shrugged, figuring it was close enough to the truth.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Yakko asked worriedly.

Wakko nodded again. "I'll be fine, I'm probably just hungry."

Yakko laughed a little. "Alright, but you'll tell me if anything is wrong, right?"

"Mhm."

"Good."

The brothers stood in a bored silence for a while, before the rest of their family walked in and the festivities officially began.

It started with the feast, which was pretty harmless, as Wakko enjoyed talking with his family and the food was "quite excellent". The hall was filled with good cheer and hearty laughter, which he could appreciate.

However, after that, things began to blur.

It seemed only moments ago he was eating when suddenly everything was taken away and it turned into social hour. and Dot and their parents disappeared once more. He recalled Yakko asking if it was okay for him to go to Max, to which Wakko nodded and even pushed him away some. Oh god- he hoped that wasn't too aggressive.

Now he was alone. People were talking, walking, dancing, all sorts of activities. Wakko tried to take it all in, but all of the colors and sounds were starting to burn his eyes.

Friends. He was told he had to make friends.

He tried looking around for kids his age, but just turning his head made him dizzy.

Hmph.

Still, he was determined to function as a normal child would so he began weaving through the rapidly shifting crowd as he had earlier, just with a much louder and more busy crowd.

Suddenly his suit was starting to feel a lot more uncomfortable than before. God- if he could just find someone-

He bumped right into a lady in a bright purple dress. He quickly stuttered an apology before scurrying away as fast as he could, not even waiting for a response.

Seriously- was his suit trying to choke him? He pulled on it desperately, but if anything it just made the pull tighter. Wakko growled to himself as he walked further and further away from whoever that lady was, until he hit the wall.

At least the marble was cool, it was starting to feel like it was a million degrees in here.

Still, it wasn't enough. he still felt hot, and stuffy- was he even breathing anymore?

...Yes, yes he was. Rather fast though- oh dear, was that his heart? oh god- what was happening? Why was the music so loud? Why was his collar so tight? When was the last time he blinked? Where were these "kids" Wakko was supposed to make friends with?

Wait- no, he could see those. A group of them- shit, they were looking at him. Wakko noticed his nail was twitching nervously- he grabbed it and forced it to stop, but the kids laughed.

Wakko ran away again, covering his ears, his face turning red and the knot in his stomach transporting itself to his throat.

"No, no, no, no. Please, not now..." He pleaded with himself, but he didn't listen, and tears started to form. Wakko looked desperately for a quick way out, but still couldn't find any- curse the size of this place.

However, as his eyes darted around anxiously, he spotted something- a table covered in a white cloth that went to the ground. Without hesitation, Wakko went to it, making sure no one saw him before crawling underneath.

Wakko stayed there, covering his ears and rocking back and forth awhile, cursing his stupid brain for making these stupid tears that wouldn't end. He also cursed the stupid music for being too loud and the guests for being so many.

He wanted Mom.

He wanted mom to come and find him and scoop him up and take him to the playroom and sit in the rocking chair and rock him to sleep.

However, she didn't come.

No one did.

He was alone, and these tears weren't making him any calmer. Everything still felt so loud- it wasn't this loud before- he loved mom's coronation. Why was his brain so stupid?!

The young prince continued like that for a while, before someone came and lifted the tablecloth. He tried to make a run for it, but the someone grabbed his arm before he could- Wakko turned to look at their face and-

It was Max.

"S-sorry, I probably shouldn't... grab you," He let go, and Wakko scooted back, though he didn't leave. Max saw this as an invitation and joined him under the table.

"A-are- uh... Are you okay?" Max asked. Wakko looked away and shrugged.

"Right... not much of a talker..." Max recalled. Wakko nodded once, though he instantly regretted it, as it made his head feel weird.

Max tapped his fingers on his knee as he tried to figure something out. Wakko avoided any looks the Disney Prince gave him.

"Do you want some water? I can go get you some water," Max offered. Wakko sniffled and thought about it, before nodding once more (and regretting it once more).

with that, he disappeared, though not for too long.

Wakko noticed he stopped crying.

"Here, take this," Max handed him the glass. Wakko accepted the offering, taking a long drink.

Well, that felt at least a little bit better.

He glanced at Max.

"A-aren't you supposed to be with Yakko?" he asked.

"Dot was practically begging Yakko for a dance and I let him, it's her day after all," Max chuckled.

That made sense.

Wakko looked down at the glass, tapping his finger against it and looking at the water ripple.

"Do you need to step out of the party for a sec?" Max asked.

Wakko shrugged, taking a sip.

"Here- I'll help you find an exit," Max said, getting up and holding the cloth open for Wakko.

He hesitated.

He didn't deserve this- such kindness from the guy he locked in the tower mere weeks ago- it didn't make sense.

Then again, he'd give anything to get out of here.

Wakko listening to his senses and got out.

Carefully he followed Max through the gigantic room until they eventually reached a door, through which both of them slipped out of and into a calm and dark hallway.

Instantly, Wakko felt calmed, taking a deep breath.

"Wanna sit down?" Max asked, gesturing to the couches nearby. Wakko nodded. However, instead of sitting on the couch, he chose to lay on the cool floor, even taking off his gloves so he could feel the marble with his fingers.

Max didn't say anything for a while, not seeming to mind the silence. Which was good- because Wakko didn't feel like breaking it.

After a while though, a thought nagged at his brain.

Why.

Why on earth would Max help him? After everything he did? After everything he jeopardized? It didn't make sense.

Wakko sat up. Max looked at him but didn't say anything.

Wakko sighed.

"Why-?" He paused.

"Why... are you being so nice to me?"

"You were in trouble, I couldn't ignore that," Max shrugged. Wakko frowned, putting his gloves back on.

"I-i... Aren't you mad? At least a little?" He asked.

"It wasn't my first time being locked in a room for hours on end," Max snorted.

"Y-yeah, but I tried to hurt you. And Yakko..." Wakko looked at the ground. "I know how much you mean to him."

Max blinked.

"I- uh... well-" Max struggled with his words a moment.

"I don't... blame you, I guess. It's as new to you as it is to me and with a past and family tree like yours, I guess I don't blame you for lashing out? I dunno," Max shrugged, looking away.

Huh...

"Still... you didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to. Trust me, I would've helped any kid I found under there, but I'm glad it was you," Max said.

Wakko looked at him, deciding whether or not he believed that. Ultimately, he did.

"You know... Yakko talks a lot about you," Max said, piquing Wakko's interest.

"He worries a lot, but he says you're a really sweet kid, and I believe that," Max smiled a little. "You should be easier on yourself, you're still growing up you know?"

Wakko thought about that.

"I guess," He said. Max snorted.

"You know... you do seem like a pretty cool kid. I'm sorry if you ever felt I was ignoring you, I promise I'll try to make up for it too," He said.

Wakko thought about that too.

"Thanks," He said.

"I really do hope we can grow to like each other. Yakko means a lot to me and you mean a lot to him... you know?" Max blushed a little, scratching the back of his neck.

Wakko nodded, grinning a little.

"So... are we... cool?" Max asked.

Wakko thought about that as well.

"Yeah, we're cool," He said with his signature smile.

"Cool," Max grinned back. "Because I'm pretty sure Yakko might lose it if his dance with Dot ended and he can't find me."

Wakko laughed.

"Will you be alright?" Max asked, standing. Wakko nodded, getting up as well.

"I'm feeling a lot better... though I think I'll look for mum and dad," He said.

"Fair enough," Max nodded once. "Well- uh... see you around, I guess."

"See you around," Wakko laughed at his awkwardness before going back through the doors and back to the party.

Max followed soon thereafter, hoping Yakko wouldn't be too mad or worried at him for his sudden disappearance.

.o0o.

Yakko couldn't believe that a year ago today he thought his parents were dead. It baffled him honestly- he could turn his head and his parents were right there. They were never really dead- it shocked him to remember sometimes.

He also couldn't believe that only a year ago the most celebration they could share for Dot's birthday was a mini cake they had to sneak late at night.

And now look where he was- dancing in the middle of the ballroom with his little sister having the time of his life- despite the fact Dot couldn't stop giggling and he almost dropped her that one time.

However, he had to draw the line after three songs, which Dot understood, and he gave her back to their parents, hoping Max wouldn't be too mad about Dot taking up so much of his time.

"Ah, Max, there you are- sorry for dancing so long, I have a hard time saying no to her," Yakko laughed between pants, scratching the back of his neck.

"You just got done?" Max teased.

"Yeah, she really liked dancing," Yakko shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets.

"You look like you could use a breather," Max raised an eyebrow at him.

"Who, me? Whatever would give that idea?" He played back, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"C'mon- let's go to the balcony," Max said, taking his hand.

When they got to the door Yakko paused as he looked back at his family, unsure. However, his parents looked at him, and after giving a fair look of warning, they both gave him a thumbs up and nod of approval, and Yakko went off with his prince.

However, they didn't pick a random one, they went all the way through the halls to the usual one they'd go to when Max visited Warnerstock (the kid had a thing for balconies).

"Ahh, fresh air," Yakko embraced the cool night.

"Yep," Max embraced it too, immediately going and leaning on the rails.

"Are you liking the party?" Yakko asked.

"It's pretty good- though a little crowded, but I always know how to find some space," Max answered.

"I feel that- when my birthday rolls around, I'll make it a lot less crowded. I don't know what Dot had against having it outside, but what are you gonna do?" Yakko shrugged.

"I think Wakko would appreciate a smaller shindig," Max said, looking at the garden.

"What makes you say that?" Yakko decided to take his place next to Max also leaning against the railing.

"Ran into him- he wasn't having the best time so I helped ground him again," Max said like it was no big deal.

It was.

"Grounded him? You- managed to calm him down? Is he okay? What happened?" Yakko asked quickly.

"Woah, woah, it's okay. He's totally fine, just... overwhelmed." Max said.

"Oh... well... I'm glad he's okay," Yakko took a deep breath. "And I'm even more glad you were able to help him- that's huge... really."

He looked at him when he said that last part. Max blushed.

"I would've helped anyone, seriously," He looked away.

"Mhm, sure," Yakko teased.

"I am serious though- it probably means a lot to Wakko- he doesn't accept help easily and to allow you... it means he's starting to like you," Yakko said in all seriousness.

"That's good," Max nodded. "I really do want your family to like me- I just... don't have the best ways of showing it, I suppose."

"Hey, you're doing great so far," Yakko held his hand.

There was a moment before Yakko realized what he was doing and both boys broke the gesture.

"Haha... yeahhhh," Max looked at the wall away from Yakko.

There was a stretch of silence between the two, neither knowing what to do. Sure they knew what they wanted but... things are never as easy as just doing what you want.

"My dad and uncles like you too- if you care about that," Max decided to say.

"That's good," Yakko smiled a little, rubbing his thumb on the railing.

Another pause.

"You know- It's funny to me how when we met you thought I might too cool for you," Max remarked.

"When did I ever say that?" Yakko said.

"You called me cool at least fifty times upon first meeting me," Max play punched his arm.

"As I recall, you called me cool, so who's the real cool one here?" Yakko punched him back and the princes laughed.

"Alright, alright, you got me," Max chuckled. "I was just trying to say you were totally wrong, I don't have a cool bone in my body."

"God- you're so cool you don't even know how cool you are. Typical," Yakko sighed teasingly.

"Hey, didn't I just say you're pretty cool too?" Max accused playfully.

"Oh please, you're way cooler. No trauma and with fluffy, luxurious hair like that? Please," Yakko rolled his eyes.

"Oh puh-lease yourself. Trauma is just a cool backstory and you're home is a lot more fun and a lot less crowded and your family is a lot more cool too," Max pointed his finger at Yakko.

"You're exaggerating," Yakko pointed back.

"Nope- not at all. You're one of my first true friends and that automatically makes you very cool," Max crossed his arms.

"Oh yeah? W-well-" Yakko paused, looking at Max carefully.

A pause.

Max's dark brown eyes shined back at Yakko, reflecting the stars that surrounded them wonderfully. His fluffy and luxurious hair framed his face with perfect ease. His signature smile slowly turned into that of curiosity.

Yakko felt his heart flutter.

"I'm not as cool as you think," Yakko stepped down, looking at the ground.

Coward.

Another pause.

"..."

"Well maybe you are right- maybe I am cooler than you."

"Wha-?"

Before Yakko could finish the sentence, Max grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a kiss.

"S-see?" Max was internally "fjdkaf;sfj"-ing in his brain. "You've won- I'm a lot cooler."

"Y-yeah," Yakko could barely speak his face was as red as Wakko's hat. "You're... yeah," his face melted into a goofy grin.

"Oh god- I'm sorry- d-did you not mean that..?" Max panicked, quickly becoming embarrassed.

"N-no!" Yakko snapped to life. "I-i... I- uh..."

"I liked it," He managed to say. Max smiled.

"W-... Wanna do it again?" Yakko proposed, and Max nodded, and they shared another kiss.

Yakko knew it was corny to think, but it truly felt just like fireworks in his chest.

He liked Max- Max liked him. A part of himself was realized- and he felt alive. A good kind of alive- not the kind of alive that came from life or death situations.

"So... I guess that makes us even," Max joked. Yakko laughed.

"I guess so," He couldn't get himself to stop smiling- neither could Max. They looked at each other before bursting into laughter again.

"Man, we really should return to the party," Max said.

"Yeah, you're right," Yakko's face was starting to hurt from the smiling.

"Do- uh... do you think your parents will be cool... orrrr...?" Max asked.

"Psh, I'm sure they'll be fine," He said without hesitation.

"Cool," Max said, opening the door out of the balcony.

Yakko looked at him for a moment, trying to absorb the moment as best he could.

"You okay?" Max asked.

"Yep," Yakko said, taking a deep breath as he implanted it in his memory in his brain forever.

"C'mon, let's go before they think we've done something stupid," Yakko said, quickly joining Max and grabbing his hand before running back to join his family.

however, right before entering the party room once more, Yakko paused.

"Does this mean our friendship is basically ruined?" He asked.

Max thought about it.

"I wouldn't think of it as a ruining per se... maybe think of it as an upgrade of sorts," Max winked.

God, he was so much cooler.

"Cool," Yakko grinned, squeezing Max's hand.

"Well... uh- shall we?" Max let go and offered Yakko his arm.

Yakko thought about it.

Taking it would mean no taking it back- it would mean the whole party would basically know that they kissed (holy shit- they kissed! that was a thing that happened!). His parents, his siblings, practically the whole kingdom, and their allies.

Yakko couldn't imagine any other way to walk back in.

He took his arm.

"We shall."

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

[haik-choo]

karasuno boys as boyfriends

a/n: im just basically astral projecting myself into these situations; ALSO if you want more detailed ones, just ask, and you shall receive! (also this is my first post i’ve written on here! but if you want plenty of kpop content i’m @hyucksong where i’ve been writing and I am still active! :))

---

[KARASUNO BOYS AS BOYFRIENDS HEADCANNONS]

-tsukishima, yamaguchi, hinata, kageyama, tanaka, nishinoya, sugawara, daichi, and asahi

---

tsukishima kei.

the type to look you straight in your eyes when you ask for a hug and say “no, who do you think i am, your boyfriend?”

runs his hands through your hair from the front and then when his hand reaches the back of your head he pulls you into him and kisses you either on the forehead or the lips <3

in order to be in a relationship with him you HAVE to have the same type of humor.

i don’t think he could date someone who doesn’t make fun of people with him

you guys are like best friends who make fun of each other and. make out a little every once in a while

he’ll hold your hand and hug you in public but he will NEVER do anything else, especially not in front of the boys

he thinks the blush that ignites on your kissable cheeks should be for his eyes only

he gave you a keychain that had a cute little strawberry shortcake on it. and it’s your most prized possession 

will shoot a glare at anyone who watches you too closely. like no. don’t get googly eyed over MY girlfriend. 

and you don’t have a problem with that ;) 

yamaguchi tadashi.

he likes to watch you when you’re not looking to pick out the little habits you do

he thinks that knowing someone’s little hardly noticeable habits is one of the most intimate things on mother earth

he knows that you stir the milk in the bowl three times before you pour the cereal in to check for chunks because you accidentally drank spoiled milk when you were younger

NEVER has an issue getting you a gift for any occasion. he ALWAYS knows what you’re looking at and what you want and you lowkey think he can read your mind but in reality he just pays attention <3

you’re either just as shy as him to bring out his more assertive side or more assertive than he is to bring out his more timid side -- both are good

kisses you on the forehead and holds your hand in public -- he loves PDA because he can show you off :’)

yes. he kisses the back of your nape in public. so what. 

YES. HE CLOSES HIS EYES WHEN HE DOES IT AND ACCIDENTALLY INHALES YOUR SCENT AND WHISPERS IN YOUR EAR THAT YOU SMELL GOOD. IDC IF YOU THINK THAT’S CREEPY. IT’S CUTE. YES. HE GIVES YOU THAT LOOK THAT SAYS HE’S CRAZILY IN LOVE WITH YOU. SO WHAT.

kageyama tobio.

he probably fell in love with you because you were just as passionate about something else as he is about volleyball; music, drawing, writing, math, science, reading -- whatever

i see this relationship as being one that’s like...accelerated friends. like,,, you act like him and hinata except you kiss sometimes and he can see you at the end of the wedding aisle

DEFINITELY reads cosmopolitans once you start dating because he wants to be a good boyfriend for you <3

PDA is literally little to NONe,,, not because he doesn’t like it...it’s just because he doesn’t realize that he’s not showing you affection lololol

like in one arm he has his athletic duffel bag and the other he has a volleyball

he doesn’t mean to neglect you he just does AGAGAG

realized he liked you when he thought about you when he was drinking his milk and mindlessly bought you one too

the first time y’all kissed. he literally stared at you so intensely for a SOLID ten minutes debating in his head whether or not he should just go for it or wait or just smash his face into yours and hope your lips connect

he chose to cross his fingers and ended up smashing his forehead and nose into yours 

it was cute tho <3

hinata shoyo.

YALL HAVE DATES WHERE YOU BABYSIT HIS SISTER. WTF SO CUTE

when yall cuddle and you’re the little spoon he likes to put his head on your shoulder/between your neck and watch as you scroll through tiktok or instagram and just mindlessly talk about his day 

the type of boyfriend where neither of you can cook and you both confusedly look at recipes on google like: ????? wtf is the difference between brown sugar and regular sugar

it’s his INSTINCT to hold your hand. no matter what. his hand just...gravitates to yous.

AND HIS LIPS JUST FIND YOUR CHEEK??? like it’s so natural to him to kiss your cheek when he sees you, even in public. it’s so adorable i--

THE TYPE OF GUY TO WIPE OFF FOOD FROM THE CORNER OF YOUR MOUTH AND STILL EAT IT AND SAY “you taste good!~” AND NOT EVEN REALIZE WHAT HE SAID. BUT WHEN YOU DO IT TO HIM HE BLOWS A FUSE

he loves to tickle you. like you’ll be vibing, drinking whatever you drink in the morning and he’ll come up to you all casually and kiss you cheek...and then he’ll pounce 

he holds you close to his chest when he tickles you, partally because he likes feeling your laugh vibrate on his chest, and partially because it’s easier to not get tickled if he’s right behind you

his sister LOVes you and it just. makes him so happy

tanaka ryuunosuke.

you CANNOT remove his hand from your ass. it is permanently glued there. it is attached to you. yes, even in public.

number 1 hypeman! he will always support you, no matter what! you could be in a competition to raise the biggest beetle and he’ll be there rooting you on and staying up late with you as you rear your award-winning beetle

you two lay next to each other on the couch/on his bed and he’ll have his arm around you and you’ll lay your head on his chest as you watch netflix shows

YOU, NISHINOYA, AND TANAKA? UNSTOPPABLE TRIO. POWER TRIPLET. 

i don’t imagine him being shy when he first kisses you; the first time he kissed you, you were literally just. existing and he literally just...couldn’t hold it in...and he just went for it

literally CATAPULTS himself into you and kisses you senseless

yes you and saeko are besties she gives you ALL the tea about young tanaka

the type to take off his shirt more during practice if you’re there watching, and literally BURN red if you mention anything about his muscles

you once traced a vein in his arm and commented on how hot it was and he literally short-circuited 

kiss his biceps. kiss his abs. kiss his cheek. please. it’s all he wants. he’s touch-starved

nishinoya yuu.

SUCH an excited boyfriend

like he seriously gets so hype doing ANYTHING with you pleaSE give this man an award. you’ll be at the amusement park and the line to get into a ride will be three hours and he’ll be like

“I get to spend three hours with you?!! fucking sick! absolutely radical!” 

he’s bold in public, but only because he wants to rub you in his teammates faces, but his ears will be Red

at home, he’s calmer :) he just loves to spend time with you, even if you’re sitting on a bench watching him practice receives for five hours straight in the blazing sun. 

he just treasures your time so much, you treats you like a precious gem -- he will NEVER treat you wrong. deadass has no problem admitting when he’s wrong -- but if he thinks he’s right then he WILL stand his ground

he’s a passionate man, who loves just as passionately.

his favorite time to kiss you is after you’ve taken a sip of a soda because he likes the taste of the syrup and the burn of the carbonation, but most of all because he likes the taste of your lips in combination with all of them

NIPS AT YOUR EAR. DEADASS JUST LOOKS AT YOU BRUSH A PIECE OF HAIR BACK WHEN YOU’RE DOING HOMEWORK AND IS LIKE “free real estate” AND C H O MPS

the day nishinoya told everyone yall were dating, kiyoko stopped you in the hallway and deadass got on her knees and thanked you LITERALLY she was like “i’ll buy you anything. give the word and it’ll be yours.” 

sugawara koushi.

would kiss you on the first date. deadass. he’ll just drop you off at your doorstep and you’re still high on adrenaline, and you’re lowkey hoping he’ll kiss you and you get  little disappointed when he doesn’t and then when you least expect it. bam. his lips on yours

his smell oh god, he literally smells like fresh sugar cookies. it’s like as soon as you get anywhere near him his smell just invades you nose and. you’re powerless. you just wanna hug him

never smells bad. try me, bitch. NEVER.

his hugs are literally god’s gifts. he loves hugging you. he just completely envelopes you with his pretty setter arms and his smell takes up all the space in your head and nothing else exists for that moment, just you two

loves tucking your hair behind your ears or just moving it out of your face; doing homework and your bangs are in the way? not for long because he’ll clip them up for you <3

he’s pretty mischievous and will playfully put his hand next to your head and lean down with such a HOT look in his eyes 

and he’ll say some shit like “i wanna devour you” and then he’ll laugh afterwards and give you a kiss on the forehead and you’re standing there. like -.- o.o -.- o.o

whenever he feels insecure about his position on the team, you’re always there to comfort him and he’ll just lay between your legs and rest his face on your stomach as you comb your fingers through his hair and scroll through tiktok

PDA? yes please. uh huh. mhmm. he doesn’t care who sees his love for you he just wants to love on you baby. kisses you on the lips, no problemo

daichi sawamura.

you and suga are the only ones who can scare him when yall are mad lol

boyfriend where you’ve dated for like a year but it feel like 50 have already passed. in a good way!

this relationship is so ungodly domestic. like from the first day it’s just pure comfort and he’s like your rock and you’re his anchor

you two bicker a lot but it’s lighthearted and you just feel so secure with him that poking fun at him and at yourself is just natural

daichi. gives. god. hugs. he does. it’s fact. 

his arms are just so big and he has so much body warmth and he probably smells like some bullshit cologne like “smoldering woods” and it’s just so. daichi

you two spend the night at each other’s house so often it’s like you already live with each other and people always forget that you don’t lolol

totally sleeps with his shirt off and only with underwear. isn’t awkward about it either;  when he wakes up he puts on sweats but still remains topless (not that you’re complaining)

you two are like. the strict parental couple, when you walk together whether it be down the street or in the hallways, you just look so right for each other it’s. mind blowing

doesn’t mind kissing you a little in public but really thinks that stuff should be for private; so normally he just kisses your temple and always has an arm either around your shoulder or around your waist

WHEN THE TEAM SEES YOU KISS ON THE LIPS THEY GO “EW” EVEN SUGA AND ASAHI AFIEFHEWIF

asahi azumane.

literal fucking teddy bear. god please cuddle him. please kith him. please comb through his hair with your fingers and kiss his nape and kiss the back of his head. please i beg of you.

did NOT ask you out first. he wrote love letter to you and then waiting behind the gym because he thought being near the volleyball gym would give him some luck and them you got in front of him and he was. deer in the headlights

needless to say you asked him out and kissed his cheek. he DIED

even once yall are comfortable in the relationship he still needs reassurance every once in a while because he’s a little insecure, not that you’ll leave him for someone else, but that he’s not good enough

his PDA skill are. subpar. he usually just holds your hand and that’s it, but sometimes kisses the corner of your eye or nose and you just combust

OH RIOGEH TOTALLY DOES BUTTERFLY AND BUNNY KISSES. YES GOD YESSSSS

when yall cuddle he doesn’t like spooning. he likes to be able to see your face and the expressions you make, so doesn’t like being the little or big spoon; yall face each other and just lets your head lay on his arm even tho it’s numb. im: soft

kisses are so sweet, slow, and hesitant. he doesn’t really kiss you often because he has terrible timing but...when he does it’s like the whole world just becomes still in that moment and nothing matters but his hands on your waist and yours in his hair 

[azaleavi]

Best Friend

Requested by anon: hi could I request a sebastian x female reader where they have been best friends for years and reader has been in love with him for a while and it hurts her thag hes dating someone else and one day she just blurts it out because its too much??? angsty with a happy ending hopefully???

Word count: 1.8k

Author’s note: I got my first request!! I was so happy that I started writing right away. Thank you so much for requesting dear anon I hope you like it.

Feedback is always appreciated and don't forget to reblog and like if you liked it and want to see more. Thank you!

Masterlist

(the texts in italics are either throwbacks or thoughts)

Being the best friend of Sebastian was a challenge. It wouldn't have been, normally, but you had fallen in love with him and that made things a hundred times harder for you. But how could you not, when he was the most charming man you have ever met. He was the sweetest human being and he was always there for you when youu needed him. You met when you worked on a movie together and immediately hit it off. Thankfully there were more than one projects you worked on alongside each other so you became even closer. You thought there could be something more between you than friendship, but Sebastian never seemed to look at you like that. You got your hopes up multiple times, only to be let down again and again. So now you just learned to not expect any romantic feelings from him.

I want to tell you something the text read from Sebastian. You heart leaped in your chest at the thought of him wanting to talk to you about something seemigly important. It had to be important. Right? Maybe he would tell you, that he sees you as more than a friend. You texted him back saying that he could come over right now if he wanted to. He sent you a thumbs up, meaning he was on his way so you got to cleaning up your apartment. It wasn't necessarily messy, but there were a few things out you had to put away. Living in different cities or even countries all the time never left you with enough time to completely clean up the only place you called home. A knock on the front door shook you from your thoughts. You walked to it with a deep sigh, excited, but also afraid of what Seb wanted to talk to you about. Opening the door you met with his beautiful face.

"Hi" he smiled as you stepped aside to let him in.

"Hey. Come in." you greeted back. He walked in and took off his shoes as you closed the door. You walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. He fidgeted with his hands, a sign that he was nervous. "What is it Sebby?" him being nervous made you even more nervous so both of you were just a bundle of nerves.

"It's just... I just..." he sighed, leaning forward and rubbing his face with his hands. Something was wrong.

"Hey, you can talk to me" you reassured him, putting your hands on his back and rubbing it.

"I accidentally told Chris that you are a virgin" he finally blurted out. Your hand froze on his back. He looked back up at you, only to see you trying to hold back a laugh. "Why are you laughing?" he asked, confused.

"He already knows Seb." you let out the laugh you've been holding in. His face lit up in realization and he relaxed against the back of the couch. "This is what you wanted to tell me?" you continued to laugh.

It was after he left that you let yourself feel the sadness of not getting the confession you were waiting for.

You loved having him as a friend, but you wanted more. You wanted to be the one that wakes up next to him every day, who gets to kiss him every chance you get. You could dream about it how many times you wanted to, but it would never happen. Especially when he had a girlfriend. You remembered when he told you.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" he grabbed your elbow as you were walking away from set, done for the day. You turned around, noticing how your face was closer to his than it probably should have been. He seemed to notice too as he stepped away from you. Your heart broke a little at his movement, but you knew that it wasn't his fault. He didn't feel the same as you did. You couldn't blame him, really. Why would he love you? There were so many better people out there whom he could choose. You understood, no one ever noticed you, so why would he be different. It was your fault for falling hopelessly in love with him. You tried to stop, you truly did, but it was no use. You couldn't tell him either, your friendship would be forever ruined. Of course he would be nice about it and say that he would want to keep being your friend, but you knew that it would never be the same.

"Yeah, sure we can talk" you smiled at him. The two of you walked to his dressing room, that was empty. You sat down on a hair as he did the same. "So?" you urged him to talk after a few second of silence.

"I met someone" your world stopped at his words. He looked up to see your reaction, but your face was blank. Your thoughts were a mess as you tried to come up with a response, trying to not show how your heart just broke into a million pieces.

"That's..." you cleared your throat, blinking a few times to get rid of the tears that started gathering in them. "That's amazing Seb." you froced a smile on your face, praying that he wouldn't see through your mask.

"She is actually working with us so I want you to meet her." he smiled, excited at the thought of his best friend and girlfriend meeting. You wish you could be happy for him, but right now you couldn't feel anything else but pain.

That was 8 months ago and they were happier than ever. Well... were before she decided to break up with him out of nowhere. He has been heartbroken for a long time, but he had you helping him through it. It was hard on you, but he was still your best friend and you knew you had to be there for him.

You were currently at his house, having a movie night. He was feeling much better now, your presence helping him through the worst of it. He was eternally grateful for you because of it. You were cuddling on his couch, becoming much closer in the last few weeks. You didn't use to do things like this, but when he started initiating the touches you didn't object. You thought it would be only for a little while, just because he needed someone to be close with after the breakup, but it didn't stop and your feeling were only getting stronger and stronger with each passing day. The movie was playing, a cliché romance, as he ran his fingers up and down your arm, your head on his shoulder. The man on TV was confessing his love for the woman and it made you think about what it would be like if you told Sebastian how you felt. He doesn't need a girlfriend right now you reminded yourself.

"This is so dumb" he rolled his eyes.

"What is?" you asked back, not understaning his problem.

"They were friends before this. Why ruin a perfectly good friendship with these feelings?" he felt your whole body stiffen at his words so he moved away to look at you. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing" you tried to brush it off and go back to cuddling, but he wasn't having it.

"No, something is wrong, I can feel it" he pushed.

"Seb, seriously, it's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"No, you have to tell me when something is wrong, we are best friends and I don't want you to keep secrets from me-"

"I love you" you blurted out, your mouth moving without thinking. No, no, no, no this cannot be happening right now. He immediately stopped talking and just stared at you, frozen. You stood up from you place and started walking back and forth in front of him." I know you don't need this right now and I didn't even want to tell you, but you just kept pushing and I-" stopping your rambling, your eyes filled with tears. You let out a stuttering breath, your hands on your mouth. I've just ruined everything. I'm so dumb. You looked at him, still sitting in the same place, his mouth open in shock. "Please say something." you pleaded moving your hands to your sides, not being able to take his silence anymore.

"You are in love with me?" he whispered, eyes boring into yours. Heart sinking in your chest you looked down.

"Yes" you sighed, feeling like a ton has been lifted from your chest, the truth you've been holding in had finally been revealed. Two legs appeared in front of you and two hands grabbed your arms. You didn't want to look up, already knowing the rejection, that was coming.

"Look at me y/n" he asked quietly. "Please" he said when you didn't oblige. You finally looked up at him at his request, face now soaked in tears.

"I'm sorry" you whimpered, your heart fully broken. You valued his friendship so much and you didn't want to lose him over this, but it felt like it was already over. He pulled you into a hug.

"Do not be sorry for your feelings" he tightened his grip on you, making your tears fall faster. You let out a sob at his affection. This might be the last time you get to hug him like this so you gripped his waist as strongly as you could. He pulled away enough to look into your eyes. "Don't be sorry because I feel the same way." your heart skipped a few beats, your eyes widening. You couldn't believe your ears so you just looked at him confused. Sebastian smiled at your cute impression and swiftly pressed his lips to yours. You couldn't even close your eyes considering how shocked you were. Sebastian realized you weren't moving and pulled away, worried. He called your name in question which shook you out of your frozen state.

"What did you say?" you finally spoke.

"I said I love you too." he laughed.

"But you... you were... you... what?" you stuttered, not being able to form a coherent sentence.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you" he chanted as he pressed his forehead to yours, still laughing, which was cut short when you pressed your lips to his. You kissed for a minute, but you had to break away from the other for air.

"Why didn't we do this sooner?" you laughed, wiping away the remainer of your tears.

"I don't know" he leaned in to kiss you again, smiles on both of your faces.

Permanent taglist: @byatomoe

(let me know if you want to be added)

[donutloverxo]

A Royal Scandal 3

Modern Royal King!Steve au

(Image from Pinterest)

cowritten with @lizzygal​

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the  ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7k

Story masterlist

Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.

Early that morning was no different.

Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.

Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.

You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.

Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?

Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.

He couldn’t even say what it was or why.

For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.

For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.

Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.

Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.

Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.

A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.

He’d had a beard back then he remembered.

A full bushy one.

One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.

“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.

He’d beamed.

Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.

“Indeed. Eleven to four.”

He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”

“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.

Making you roll your eyes.

On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”

He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.

More focused on the organizing task yourself.

Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.

“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”

And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.

Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.

Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.

The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.

Hungry.

That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.

In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.

Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.

Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.

Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.

You’d smelled so good that night too.

You always smelled good.

It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.

It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.

Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.

Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.

“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”

Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.

“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”

Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.

You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”

Steve could only imagine.

He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.

Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”

Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.

Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.

Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.

In his eyes, you were a saint.

“What’s with the question mark?”

Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.

Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”

Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.

He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.

Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.

A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”

Soundly you slept.

Comfortable. Safe. At peace.

Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.

Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.

Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.

A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.

On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.

Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.

Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.

Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.

Your signature was all swoops and swirls.

Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.

All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.

At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.

Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.

A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.

Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.

A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.

Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.

Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.

This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.

Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”

Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”

Stars.

So many bright and colorful stars.

Mmm.

Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.

Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.

Nothing.

Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.

Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.

For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.

Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.

You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.

His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.

You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?

Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.

You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.

Reality was always so different.

Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”

A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.

It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.

“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”

Up your hand flew to your chest.

Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”

His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.

Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”

In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.

Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.

Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.

He kissed you.

Did he really though?

Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?

For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.

He’d leaned closer to kiss you.

What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.

Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.

However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.

Another attempt at a kiss was not made.

Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.

Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.

Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.

Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.

Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.

“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”

For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.

A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.

Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.

“This is ok?”

“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.

Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.

Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.

And it wasn’t like you were complaining.

Far from it.

Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.

There really were worse ways to wake up.

Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.

This? This was soooo much better.

Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.

Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.

“Am I going to have to quit my job?”

It was something of a concern.

You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.

Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.

His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”

Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.

A grunt came from beneath you.

Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.

Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”

How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.

Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.

God did he want you to be his queen.

“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.

However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”

So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.

A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”

Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.

Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”

“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”

And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.

It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.

Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?

You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.

Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.

“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”

Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”

***

The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.

Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.

Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.

It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.

Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.

Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.

A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.

A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.

Some things males never grew out of it seemed.

“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.

Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.

She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.

Speaking of the devil.

As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.

Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.

Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.

She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?

Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.

She was queen at the time.

It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.

“Yes mother?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”

Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.

No. That was not why she was here.

Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.

It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.

Hope and Janet?

Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.

All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”

Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.

She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.

Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.

“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”

Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.

Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.

“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”

Ah.

Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?

Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.

What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.

It clicked.

Like a light going off.

How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?

Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”

Silence.

Quiet.

Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.

“No mother.”

“But…”

“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”

And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.

Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.

“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”

Ah, so he did remember.

Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.

Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.

Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.

Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”

[damselofblueroses]

The Name of the Rose, Chapter 4

Summary: Your study-buddy Doh Kyungsoo comes with you for a long-awaited trip to Tokyo, Japan. There is a tension between you, however both of you decided to build a friendship instead of a relationship.

Chapter Summary: Kyungsoo taught the Reader how she should be touched. After the lesson the Reader answers his question and tell him her observation about the lesson. (Note: This chapter is fucking long, so grab your drink before reading babes!)

Content: Unestablished relationship, AU, Hurt/Comfort, Anger, Slight Violence, Emotional Complications and Healing.

Warnings: Well, the story contains NSFW/Smut, please minors do not continue.

Note: This story was inspired by D.O.’s album, Empathy, the album of 2021 in my opinion. It is an ongoing mini project, I planned to write it as a one-shot when I started, however I realized there are a lot to say about Empathy Era and I cannot stop shut my mouth, or prevent myself from writing… So, here we go.

Chapter Word Count: 11.2k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4: I Am Gonna Love You

A gentle breeze puffed past the slightly open window, as it blowed the curtain, moonlight spilled into the room. There was dull light, coming from the top of the walls, casting a dim yellow tint along the carpet and bed.

A soft smile tugged at Kyungsoo’s lips.

You were glaring at him, to be honest, Kyungsoo felt a little bit exposed to you, but he was more than okey with being naked for you, all with his body, and soul. He was ready to give everything he had. Sometimes he believed that he must be crazy for loving you at this extent, definitely he had gone mad, there was no logical explanation of willingly being at your fingertips.

“We do not,” his voice was reminding you all the warm autumn nights you spent together, it was rich, baritone and velvety, your entire body stiffened as his index finger wandered around your face, from forehead to chin. “We do not do anything you do not want.”

You looked at him, forgetting how to blink. That bloody dim light painting him with a shiny halo, increasing his ethereal beauty and to your dismay, his already so-fucking-strong impacts on you. Sometimes you could not help but wonder if he has been knowing how he affected you or not. His eyes, fucking pair of big-doe eyes, chocolate brown and always full of emotions, skimmed over your face, you swallowed your heartbeat in the throat.

“I know.” you miraculously found your voice out of nowhere. With slow moving fingers, without noticing what the heck you were doing, you touched his upper lip.

Kyungsoo held his groan back, and his hands clenched into fists. He hated himself for his quick response to your touch, he wanted to keep himself as one fucking piece.

You took your hand back off him, hiding it behind your back, sagging against the pillows. A deep sigh emitted from both of you.

You were looking to each other, the silence invaded the room but this time it was different from before. This silence was like a messenger, it was not eerily or strange. Both of you were testing the waters, you were waiting for the one who was going to make the next move, but both of you were aware of the fact that this silence was nothing but an emissary.

An emissary that was telling your mutual desires for each other. Your dire needs and hopes.

He raised his hand, looking at you as asking for your permission, you forgot how to swallow but immediately shook your head from up to down. His lips formed as his fucking signature smile, heart shaped one, the type of smile which Kyungsoo gave only when he was really happy. Your breath stuck in your lungs, an unmistakable blush spread across your face, made its own way to your neck. He crawled towards you, his hands caressed your ankles and spread your legs enough to make a space for himself, sitting between your calves.

The little air which was left in your lungs left your body.

His closeness and warmness started to rile you up, if riling you more than now was possible. You could easily smell his perfume, fuelling your excitement that already brewing the potions in your lower stomach.

Kyungsoo had dangerously lingered in your mind since the first day you saw him.

And now he was sitting between your legs, and only God knew what the heck he was going to do. You knew you could not say no, fuck’s sake you just could not. If he wanted to teach you as you requested, you would say yes. If he wanted to just stay like this, you would say yes. If he wanted to take you over there, you would say yes.

You knew how dangerous your love for Kyungsoo was. You were always imagining him, Kyungsoo has been living with you literally and figuratively.

You did not say this to him, you would never ever, but it was always his name coming from your mouth when you think about the bases. There was no other option, Kyungsoo or no one.

You suddenly remembered the question that Baekhyun asked to you. Unfortunately, as Baekhyun would like to define, your Virgin Mary status, was a topic that the boys really liked to mock with you. However, once Baekhyun seriously asked you, if you could wish for someone ravaging you, who was going to be? As expected Baekhyun gave you a detailed scenario which made you terrified, ended up with a huge fight between you and Baekhyun, however when you were alone, you could not stop thinking about that scenario.

It was Kyungsoo.

The name was his name even when you thought that type of imagines.

It had been Kyungsoo, and it seemed, it was going to be always his name.

When that scumbag, the touchy one pressed his fingers onto your thighs, you did not like it because they were not Kyungsoo’s. You preferred to be violently murdered than admitting this, however when you were be back into the security of your room after that unlucky experience, the only question lingering in your mind was how you could response if those would be Kyungsoo’s fingers? What would you do if those bonny, pale, and sinewy fingers touching your thighs?

You were totally ignorant to the intimate relationships, if Kyungsoo would not be in the picture, you could be sure of you were not engaged to the desires and bodily needs. However, the reason of your hunger was sitting between your legs, and to your dismay you were more than aware of the calls of your body. God, did he have to sit this fucking close to you, enough to make his breathes hovering your hair? You could not tell if you wanted to throw yourself forward to his arms or pushing him to the mattress. God only knows what was going to be next, but your eyes coasted down his biceps, as taut as ever, and the fucking veins that were visible on his wrists appearing more than prominent as he gently held your ankles.

“Are you okey with this?” Kyungsoo pointed his position, smiling a little bit nervously. You inhaled sharply, then a sharp laugh fell from your lips.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you covered your mouth with your hand. Kyungsoo lifted his head, directed his gaze upon you, you wanted to beg him not looking at you with all the power of his eyes.

“No, I need to hear your words.” he slightly pinched your left calf. You tried to free your ankle from his iron grip in order to show your current discontent of his pinch, but your effort made him laugh, despite of his movements shuttered.

“I am okey.” you sheepishly whispered.

“Do you still want me to teach you?” he bit his tongue. While he was itching to teach you, -and to be honest, his inner peace was already destroyed after you asked him if he had feelings for you or not, he was dying to taste you, JesusfuckingChrist, he never had a piece of inner piece since you came into the picture of his life, he also refused to push you for any case. Whether you chose was going to be fine by him, he was not going to dig his own grave by insisting or shoving you.

“Depends.” you murmured. “Only if you do not make fun of me.”

“Why should I make fun of you?” Kyungsoo felt his heart churned. “You asked weird questions, first about leaving you, now about mocking you. Do I make you uncomfortable by any chance?”

“Yes.” you did not think about your answer, then registered to your word. Kyungsoo’s eyes widened, for the first time of his life, he could not find anything to say. He never think that he could be the reason of your discomfort. You quickly realized the meaning of your response, while you were swearing at your fucking useless brain, you took a deep breath. “I mean, yes, you do but not because of anything you do.”

“With all my respect to you,” Kyungsoo took his hands off your ankles. “May I ask what the heck you are talking about?”

“I can be uncomfortable when you are around,” your fingers brushed against each other. Kyungsoo realized that little habit of you, you always do this when you wanted to say something which really mattered to you. “Because sometimes your presence gives me heart attacks, Kyungsoo. I do not know to describe the feelings you cause in me; I am not an expert on the field, but what should I have to do when the only one I want to keep for myself is you?”

Your words caught Kyungsoo off his guard, turning him into a mummy who could not perform anything which were preserved for the human beings.

He never ever give himself the permission of hoping such as hearing these words from you.

“I thought I could control myself.” you let every miserable thought of you came out. “But I failed, I cannot press the feelings I have for you anymore. I know it sounds very poor, and I know how much popular you are.”

Kyungsoo heard himself as snorting, but still he was numb. You were peering him, as you have been expecting a response, a voice, a thing. However, Kyungsoo was not able to give anything, he was frozen, tearing off from his wit. He knew that you were going to get wrong deductions of his persistent silence, but his fucking voice was playing hide and seek.

Surprisingly, you continued to talk.

You realized that talking was refreshing and soothing the painful circles which had been staying in the darkest cliffs of your mind. Despite of your usual behaviour when it came to express how you feel, you decided to communicate with Kyungsoo.

Ride or die.

“I know we are friends, and I really afraid of losing you, but I am losing my fucking sanity, Kyungsoo. Day by day, you had been becoming the center of my thoughts. I thought I was better than this, I made all my effort to seal my fondness of you, but it drives me into crazy. Maybe I am just pathetic.”

Was it really your self-perspective? Kyungsoo wished you could perceive yourself from his eyes.

“You? Pathetic?” his voice was cracked, sounded like an old man. “Impossible.”

There was no hesitation in his face.

“You are quite opposite.” he finally managed to vocalize his thoughts. “If you were pathetic, I would immediately warn you.”

Your head was throbbing because of the hidden passion of his voice tone. His gaze became something irresistible, dawdling on your features, focusing on your pinkish lips.

“Thank you, Soo.” you vaguely smiled. This was Kyungsoo being coddling, as Kyungsoo could possibly be. He fucked the things up, then popped in front of your door, pressed you to the wall, had a shitty conversation, nested between your legs, and in the end, told you his opinion of being pathetic or not by pointing he would scold you as he generally did.

“If you would be pathetic,” he continued. “I cannot be so adamant to be close to you. I would be lying if I say I do not want to be with you. Always.”

It was your turn to lose the trail of thoughts.

“You are not the only one who has feelings.” an eerily laugh followed his words. “And you are not the only one who is afraid of losing what we have. Maybe we are both pathetic, who knows? But I am sincere when I tell you that I have interests in you.”

Silence hovered in the air, you watched his face while he was standing in front of you, refusing to take his eyes off you. You knew he was honest as always, he always said what he thinks, what he believes even it could be hurtful.

If your feelings would be platonic, despite of the sake of your friendship, Kyungsoo would tell you at once.

You leaned forward, you reached to his face, his brows were knitted.

“We are idiots, you know that, right?” you smiled to him.

“We always have been.” he assured you with a serious face. You wholeheartedly laughed. “By the way, is it sake or you I have been talking with?”

“I am sober as fuck.” you chuckled. “You?”

“I did not drink as much as you did, you filthy drunkard.” Kyungsoo quickly shifted between moods. “I am abstinent, abstemious and sober as a judge. However, I do not want to hear those poor self-thoughts from you. Never again.”

His fingers lightly stroked your lips. Your breath stuck in your throat, you lost counting how many times you lost yourself in his touch tonight. Anyone else could consider his tone intimating, but you knew Kyungsoo well enough that he really meant you were precious and beautiful in his eyes.

“Okey.” you nod.

You wanted to ask him what you were going to do with seems-very-correspondingfeelings, but you did not want to push him. Kyungsoo wanted to ask you what you what was your plan about him or if you wanted to have a relationship with him, but he kept himself under the yoke and refused to impel you. His hand was still cupping your face.

Suddenly, he started to feel extremely warm.

“Soo,” you placed your hands onto his shoulder. You actually cooed. “I was also serious when I said I want you to teach me.”

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Your logic was fogged by the heavy desires, and your logic persuaded you, the one who started all of these was Kyungsoo. He was the one who said that scumbag did it wrong, and since he never ridicule someone for doing something wrong if he did not have the knowledge of the right ways.

And also, you wanted him, you wanted to feel him and have a proper taste.

So, you may be looking for the excuses in the book, but the frustrating heat was unbearable. You did not know what was going to be tomorrow, when you wake up, however you were sure of if you would not feel his lips again, you could not survive enough to see the sun again.

You did not care if you were going to torture yourself by having Kyungsoo for this night even when you were going to want him for the rest of your life, when there was always a possibility of losing him.

“Yeah, you said.” Kyungsoo inhaled. “Okey, I really need your words, and you have to promise me if you want to stop the session, you have to be vocal about it.”

“I…” you stopped before gearing up for the way. “I want to learn. I promise.”

“You are making everything hard for me.” Kyungsoo exhaled, staring at your small hands on his shoulders. “Do you know how you sound like? You are inviting me to please you, sweet Jesus, I want to make you feel good. Do you have any idea how hard to keep myself as a fucking one piece?”

“Do not hold yourself back.” you could not believe your own words. Your voice sounded like you were begging him, as you have not done till now. “Please, Soo.”

Kyungsoo thought that he poisoned you with his warped desires, he was not sure if he deserved you or your trust. You willingly put yourself in his palms, and he deeply believed that you deserved to have someone make you feel good, make you happy and feel secured. You deserved to feel fucking good, and Kyungsoo knew that he wished nothing but happiness for you.

But he could not stand the idea of someone else were to make you happy, make you feel good, even if that person could do it right. He was jealous to the bits even thinking about another man, being with you. He wanted to bring you such a high, maybe that was the worst thing to vocalize, however Kyungsoo wished nothing but be that man. He knew you like knowing the back of his hands, there would be one and only for you, you were an old-fashioned girl when it came to love someone.

He knew you would do everything in your power for the one who you loved, and you would keep him as the only man in your life.

And Kyungsoo felt like the most selfish person in the world for wanting it to be him to be loved by you.

He was aware of the fact that teaching you was just an excuse you came up with. You could tell him that you wanted to have a taste of Kyungsoo, you were too shy to say those words, however only you could be brave enough to find an excuse and play that card.

My little fox, Kyungsoo thought. How could I refuse you?

But there was fear.

After hearing you were also interested in him, you had feelings for him enough to make you to invite Kyungsoo to touch you, Kyungsoo was afraid of nothing, but you would change your mind. He could not endure if you were going to tell him that he made you unhappy. What if he was going to seed wrong thoughts and perspectives in your brain such as you feel like unwanted? He could not survive if he was going to hear that he made it wrong like that scumbag.

But you were leaning to his chest, he could feel your heartbeats and warmness. Your breath hovered his neck, and he could feel your velvety lips just over on his skin.

He was dying to feel more of you.

Shit. He really could not help himself.

He held your chin and lifted your head.

“I will do what you wanted.” he made his final decision. “But I have to warn you before starting to teach you. Every nerve of my body steer me towards you. I really want you. Consciously, logically, physically, emotionally. You name it, you get it.”

Your chin dropped at his bluntness. Well, you did not expect to hear those words, and Godfuckingdamnit, if Kyungsoo was going to be vocal and could not stop his goddamn mouth, you were going to burn right now.

“O-okey.” you shuttered. Your entire body tensed beneath his feathery touch, and you felt his touch made your heart rapping at a pace which your lungs could not support.

He closed his eyes.

“Damn.” you heard his low grunt, that made the fire in your stomach worse. “Remember, you promised t-

You could not help.

But kissed his closed eyelids.

Kyungsoo swore on there was no capacity left in his lungs for air as he felt your plumed and delicate kisses on his eyes, from right to left, then you made your way to his eyebrows.

“You have very beautiful eyebrows, Soo.” he heard your whisper, his heart twisted again and again. You had a grip on him, you could revel him in the blink of eye, he had a first handed experience of your power on him. He was riling up even with the idea of being at your call, being at your service, fulfilling your needs and desires as the best way he could. “And your eyes are spectacularly stunning.”

He wished you could stop praising him, otherwise he would just come in his fucking pants after hearing two nice words from you, but to his dismay, you seemed like you could not stop your goddamn mouth tonight.

Even worse, you could not prevent yourself from memorizing the details of his face with your lips and fingers. You laid your lips on his forehead as you got your hands through his stubborn hair to his neck, and you could not be sure if Kyungsoo’s body was actually trembling or if you were persuading yourself on managing to seduce him because you were deadly anxious about the issue.

The things you had no idea on that you already ignited the wheels of the machine, set Kyungsoo on fire and there was no turning back.

“Have I ever told you how much I love when you look at me?” you asked. “Even though when you look at me, I feel like I am going to explode, I love to be the view of your eyes. You are breath-taking, Kyungsoo.”

“Can you stop talking?” Kyungsoo could not hold his grunt anymore. “You cannot say these without noticing how effective they are!”

“Why?” your lips formed around a very little smile. “Don’t tell me you are into praising.”

“You little…” Kyungsoo was shocked due to your sudden transformation from a shy schoolgirl into a sharp brat, but you did not hesitate to make it worse by quickly pressing your lips onto his, then backed off.

“I see you really are.” you raised your eyebrow. There was a devilishly look on your face, you remembered something Baekhyun told you, and you did not hold it back. “So, what would happen if I told you how good you are for me?”

Kyungsoo immediately blushed.

“You are really blushing, Soo!” you exclaimed. “Look at your face!”

“Do not forget,” he deeply growled. “You started this game.”

You were not disappointed that seeing his transformation in the blink of an eye. He grabbed your wrists with one hand and securely pressed them on the pillows while pushing you into the mattress. His face was fucking close to you, your lips parted for him.

“You learned that I am into praising,” he beamed. His eyes started to shine like a boy unwrapping his Christmas gifts under the tree. “From now on, I am definitely going to discover what you are into.”

You wanted to answer by saying that you are irrevocably into him, but Kyungsoo’s lips covered your mouth, but he did not stay on your lips more than enough to make you shut up, he swiftly climbed over your body, slipping his waist between your thighs, his hips were fucking close to set your world on fire.

Kyungsoo did not hesitate to give you a couple of short kisses before fully taking your lips in his, just like he was testing the waters and tasting you before starting to completely ravage you. You had no idea how far he was planning to go; however, you were bloody sure on that if he wanted to encourage you to go to whole way, you were going to say yes. His lips were warm and soft as before, feeling you like you were a fucking addict of him.

You felt things you have never ever felt before to the point where he had you coming to stay in the palms of his hands. It could be your lack of experience, but in the deep of your heart, you knew the fact that it was not about being inexperienced or not, you knew that you were trembling, shuttering, shivering, and shaking because what he has been doing to you and for you was nothing but right.

Feels right.

He paused for a moment, he was out of breath and his face all blushed now. He leaned your forehead, cupping your face while he braced himself up on his right forearm. He kissed your forehead, kissing you fervently, he was drowned in all things about you. Your darkened eyes. Your plump lips. Your silky hair. Your words, your kindness, your firmness. You were composed by the everything Kyungsoo could wish for.

Your voice, begging him to touch you. Persuading him to take you.

Fucking hell, he should have kept himself far away from you. He really had to not listen your words when you said you liked him while you always could leave him in the darkness.

But running away from you was also equal to living in a personal hell, especially after learning the fact that you liked him.

Kyungsoo cupped the back of your neck in his palm and traced your eyebrows with his lips, he could feel the heat of your skin, singing the songs for him. All he could think was eating you alive, devouring you, marking you as his.

All his.

He hated being so clingy and cheesy, but he could not help it.

His lips followed their way from your eyebrows to your earlobe, you gasped when his lips brushed your ear, your hands freely moved and grabbed his shirt, digging your finger onto his flesh.

“Remember your promise.” his breath fanned your neck when he whispered. Godfuckingdamnit.“If I make you uncomfortable at any point, tell me.”

“Stop whispering.” you unconsciously moaned, swallowing hard. He made a mental note of your voice, storing the tone in his mind and boyishly grinned. So, you were into whispering. His fingers trailed the back of your neck, moved to your side, and caressed you gently. Your chest rubbing against him as you squirmed under his body as you could feel his hands pressing your sides, locking you in place, it was like your body responding to his heavy touches so well.

You were feeling weird, but it was not about Kyungsoo.

You were meeting with the most foreign part of your body.

There was an ache building between your thighs that you never ever felt before.

“Soo,” you glanced down to his mouth, then backed up to his eyes. His eyes were darkening with hidden desires that he was holding back all these years. “I am generally not like this.”

Kyungsoo wholeheartedly laughed.

“Oh really?” his face was lit up because of your funny explanation. “I know, you little idiot.”

He could feel you falling apart already, the softest whimpers getting caught in your throat and fuck, he could also feel that those stupidly nice noises you were unconsciously making, their effects go straight his dick, then climbing into his stomach and forcing him to dip his mouth against yours. He took your bottom lip between his teeth, your arms jerked around him, and you could not control your hips rutting against him.

Both of you could feel the pressure forming against to your pelvis.

And you heedlessly grind him, when you did that, he was the one who had to break the kiss.

“Shit,” he muttered, barely loud enough.

But you heard him. You heard him, not only hearing but also recording every reaction he gave to you in a folder in your head. You slide your hands up his shoulders and pulled him back into another kiss, even though you were aware of how much you wanted him, you had no idea of how thirsty you were for Kyungsoo’s lips. He was so careful with you, his touch was so delicate, and he was aware of your body and mind, completely tuned into your responses and reactions. He was reading your needs and limits out of your reactions, by every inch of your body where his fingers shifting against your skin, he was learning and composing a new song to be sung together.

You loved it.

Maybe you were sickly eager to be at his fingertips since ages, but you loved how he cared for you. Your blown pupils and glimmering irises were telling him that he was on the right track as he peppered more kisses on your cheeks, nose, and jawbone.

He dipped his head forward, pressing his lips on your neck where he begun to kiss diligently. This was new for you, it was consuming and tantalizing sensation which had you squirming under Kyungsoo, catching your desperate side, and turning you more needy. Your grip on his shoulders tightened, you clung onto the fabric of his t-shirt, and partly his muscles. One of your hands moved immediately to his hair, tugged the back of his head, and pulled him closer, enough to make his face deeper into the crook of your neck.

You could feel his little smile on your skin.

His hair smelled like bloomed roses, paired with something reminded you the salty fragrance of the sea.

Your heart was on the verge of exploding as your blood pressure was skyrocketing.

Kyungsoo bit you very gently, you could hardly feel his teeth, then he drawn a line on your collarbone with his tongue, your head tilted backwards, opened more place for him and you moaned.

“You are so sensitive, huh?” he mocked, and his tease caught you off guard. You shivered more than before in response as his hands wandered around your waist, pressed you against his chest.

So, you were also into teasing. Kyungsoo made another mental note for the future.

For the future.

Kyungsoo had already decided to never ever let you go. Not after hearing your whimpers. Not after tasting your lips. Not after feeling your curves under his stiff body. Not after being the target of your witty remarks.

You bewitched him in body and soul, and he never want to apart from you. If he had to lock you in a room with himself, he would even do it.

He could feel you trembling in his arms, he knew that if he was going to let another one to have you, he would die in that second. He irrevocably fell apart inside, he hovered over you to get a good look at your face, and it was the nail of his coffin.

Your pixie haircut lost its model, splayed out prettily, your cheeks were blushed, you were panting, and your lips were swollen and parted.

“Please.” you gasped, reaching to him again but Kyungsoo removed your hands over his shoulders, placing a tender kiss on your head. It was obvious that your lungs used all the capacity they had as you were out of air.

“Relax.” he murmured very delicately. “Take a deep breath. We are here to go for a long way.”

He turned back to your neck, finding the point of your pulse, circling around the point with his index finger while peppering your collarbone with kisses, touching you less to provide you with the chance of taking a full breath of air. He realized once again the amount of trust you just put in him. He knew that you did not do any of these before, you were totally handing yourself to Kyungsoo, blindly believing in him, the way of feeling proud was making his heart to swell in his chest. He resisted to the need of taking a good look on your curves, he also kept his instincts telling him to run his hands over your body in control. Instead, he made the eye contact and looked at your face when he lifted his head, then he hovered above your shoulder, waited for you till he could feel your breathing was under control.

“I am good.” you sighed.

He took the clue, then his mouth once more connected to your pulse point. He loved to feel your heartbeats beneath his lips and tongue. To be honest he really wanted to suck your sensitive flesh, however he knew that your skin was too pale and delicate, easily be bruised and he did not want to give you that horrible lavender colour as he was informed how much you disliked the bruises. You were extremely clumsy, enough to make him to want building a bubble around you to keep you always safe, however since that was impossible, he had to see and count the bruises and wounds all over your legs and arms.

So, he kept his desires under the yoke.

There were different ways of marking you as his.

He could do that, right? He could make you feel so good, enough to forget every possible name maybe you were keeping in your mind or the invisible rivals whose could always come to your way? He could carve his name in your heart, he could burn you well, so you could not remember anything but Kyungsoo.

What he did still not fully grasp was the fact that Kyungsoo was already the one and only for you.

While he was kissing your neck and collarbone, your fingers made their way from his shoulder to his toned chest and digging into his muscles. Slowly, very slowly, Kyungsoo began to slide the straps of your dress, driving you into crazy and your chest came on display. You always thought it would be very embarrassing, you did not like to be seen by anyone, but when Kyungsoo pressed his bonny fingers onto your chest, you fucking lost it.

It was not embarrassing. It was nothing like you could think of. You just wanted to look beautiful for him, when he lay his palm against your breast, you did not think anything but how much you wanted to please him. His eyes glazed over to your face, by keeping the eye contact, he slightly cupped your breast and gently squeezed.

Your eyes blown up, and you wiggled like a worm again beneath his body, that simple move alarmed your nerves and gave you goosebumps. Your heart thumped around in your throat, rammed against to your ribs just like a bird who wanted to achieve freedom.

“Is this okey?” Kyungsoo asked, his eyes were covered with a glistening thick layer of lust, his voice sounded darker and lower, doubling the tingles he was causing on you, you wanted nothing but crawling into his body. At the same time, he wanted to keep himself, he was afraid of pushing you more than you could ask for, however your fucking choice of undergarment made it almost impossible for him. He did not think Sehun also chose this for you, you were not the type of woman who could go and ask for the fashionable undergarments.

This stupidly attractive bralette must be your own taste, a dark navy bralette was covering your breasts softly, looking wonderful on your pale skin and the decorative details which composed by lace was wrapping your chest.

He closed his eyes for a second, he was not sure if he could survive or not.

You were drowning into the foggy thoughts, but even in this situation, you could not miss a single thing about Kyungsoo. You sharply observed something was wrong with him, and you were scared out of your mind.

You immediately thought that something was wrong with you.

Your insecurities did not wait for even a single moment, and quickly started to howl in your head. Your body stiffed like a rock, your fingers spasmed on his chest.

“What happened?” Kyungsoo reacted to your transformation as your body was frozen in his arms just like he was holding a sculpture which was carved out of ice. You shook your head, but due to the tension you got under your skin, the tears formed around the edges of your eyes.

You hated yourself.

“Can you tell me what is wrong?” Kyungsoo asked, he thought he fucked the things up so badly, he pushed you too much, he made you afraid of him.

“You didn’t like it.”

“Ha?”

That was the best shot he could give. You were embarrassed to death, but you forced yourself to make an explanation, you pointed the bralette you were wearing, Jesus, the only reason you purchased this type of underwear, was… Well. It was very obvious why you owned a couple of good undergarments.

And why you chose to bring them with you.

Kyungsoo followed the direction you were pointing to, his eyes widened, and he swallowed hardly. Were you an idiot? How could he manage to not like the view since he was waiting to see it since ages? Godfuckingdamnit, the view in front of his eyes was worth for all the years.

Then he really registered to the meaning.

You were anxious more than he thought, and you wanted to be praised by him. When he closed to his eyes, you got the wrong impression.

He concluded that you were an idiot, but he loved you more than anything for also being so clueless. Your reactions were priceless.

You felt Kyungsoo’s lips on your finger, then in your palm. Your eyes immediately opened.

“I love it.” he directly looked at your eyes with all the power in his gaze. You literally bit your lips in order to keep that fucking need of whining under your control. “Now, watch me.”

“For what?”

“I am going to show you,” his mouth watered after he took a really good look at your chest. “How much I love it.”

Your body tingled after his words; he did not miss a second and dipped his head onto the vault between your breasts. You could not help but wonder where in the hell Kyungsoo learned how to do these things and how he could be so fucking good at.

He hooked his thumb around the strap of your bralette and slide it down your shoulder, lifting his head and pressing his lips onto the new patch of skin. You were going ballistic when you felt his tongue, your hands searched anything to hold on for your dear life. Kyungsoo’s breath caught in his chest, he has been leaving soft kisses along the line between your neck and shoulder, his hand curved around your waist as he yanked your dress down and tugged it all the way down to your spine, granted himself the opportunity to easily take you out of that fucking dress. You tugged on his shirt, half of your face was submerged in the yellow dim lights, however the fact of your brain already went to mush was palpable.

Kyungsoo nod once, looked at you, and rubbed his hips against your core.

“Damn you, Soo.”

He chuckled when he heard your sweetest moan. He felt your quivery fingers found their ways around his hair, sneaked to his neck, while you were pressing his head onto your chest and giving him more opportunities to taste you. Shit, you were smelling so good, your skin was too soft, and your heart was drumming. Your bodies are pressed together, you were melting in each other, your thighs were wrapped around his hips, you were touching him, he was touching you.

There was no surprise he could not fucking breath.

As his eyes poured into yours, your stomach churned. You were throbbing for him; his hair was splayed between his head and the vault between your breasts, and you felt something which was coming into life in the very deep of you.

Something wet.

You did not experience it till now, but you listened a lot of stories from Baekhyun and Chanyeol. They assured you on one day you were going to need this information, so you knew what the fuck was happening to you.

You were soaking, clenching around nothing, and to your dismay, all he has done was kissing you. He was unravelling you slowly, and you were taking everything he was giving to you like you had been starving since years. When it came to experience, you were totally ignorant, but in the secrecy of your head, you knew that if he would want to slide himself inside of you right now, you were going to take him like a very good girl.

You closed your eyes, then you sensed a stingy feeling on your breast.

He bite the hardening bud of your breast as your eyes blown up.

“Oho.” his voice was fucking dominant and demanding, his eyebrows were knitted but he was glaring at you with the softest look you have ever seen in his eyes. “I said, watch me.”

Embarrassment?

It was already left the room out of the window as you lifted your head and concentrated on him.

Kyungsoo brought his face closer to your collarbone, remained exposed and placed a gentle kiss on the sternum, and did not neglect your clavicles. You wondered why he did not take the bralette off, or if he was going to do, however you were so messed up to think clearly. You were trying to solve the problem, if the increasing pace of your heart was about the arousal or stimulation, however when he nudged your nipple with his fingers, all questions immediately faded away. His fingers circled around it as he lifted his head to watch your reactions.

You thought that your eyes must be wholly black because your pupils expanded to their limits.

Then he made everything worse for you by bringing his mouth down on your breast over the fabric of your bralette, kissing along the soft tissue. Your gasps were so sharp, you cried out.

Kyungsoo fought against himself in order to behave and have his fucking manners while every nerve of his body beg him to take you right there, right now, as that bloody sweet sounds of you reached out to his ears. He never ever hear your moans, to be honest he was certain on that no one heard the noises you made, but he imagined it before.

God, it was too wrong maybe, but he imagined all of these before.

He made all of these and beyond with you in his mind, again and again.

To be honest, Kyungsoo’s mind always dangerously wandered around you. He reserved the vastest place of his mind just for you, for every version of you, from the best friend to the partner in crime, from a witty brat to a trustworthy companion, from a bashful girl to the most alluring woman. Generally, he just think about the days you were spending together, noticing something that you pointed out in the library, laughing for the lame jokes you made all the time, finding your notebook full of your shitty handwriting in his bag, or coming across to a note you took on his currently readings. Damn, Kyungsoo loved to read even your fucking gibberish. Or he just harkened back to the moments that you gave him handmade bento boxes for the lunch, even though he was cooking better than you or sitting next to him without saying anything. Laying down on the grass together or walking around the campus during nights. He just recalled the moments of your presence like all memories you had were pearls for him such as the times you were waiting him to be back in front of the dorms with an umbrella because of the sudden raining.

But sometimes, he was imagining you in your lewdest forms, while he always make you to feel fucking wonderful in those dreams. You just entangled in his thoughts with the moment you made a speech with sinfully deceptive red dress, or running to his open arms after summer break, whispering to his ear when you were watching a movie in theatre or he remembered that you came out of bathroom without noticing he was also in your flat, smelling so fucking good and the water splashes were dripping off your body, your widening eyes when you noticed his presence and immediately started to curse him, making him burst into laughs with your vocabulary, or the moments your hands clashed each other, or you were stretching your body like a cat… He immediately caught them, stored them his mind and then, when he was all by himself, hooking them in the sea of memories.

God, he painted many pictures of you in his thoughts.

He had been thinking about you a lot, how he could touch you if you would allow him.

That’s why he was so fucking damn good at it.

He knew everything about you, he had been watching you for his dear life. He was aware of how you should be touched. How you should be cared. How you should be loved. He knew that you were made of steel, but you were also made of cotton candies. When you allow someone to be with you, that bastard had to create a perfect balance between carefulness and coarseness.

You should be bend, not broken and Kyungsoo was fucking devoted to do it rightly.

He wanted nothing but hearing his own name like a chant from your mouth, he wondered how you would sound like when his name was the only thing you could say.

He took a look at you, and he thought you were ready for the next step. Hell, he was born ready for doing these to you. As an answer to the silent question in your mind as he could feel it, he slide the straps of your bralette and swiftly stripped you out of it. When your bare chest come to display, he lost his self-control, as he did not spend any single second to clamp down on your nipple, digging his hands into your sides.

He was sure of you started to leak between your thighs as the increasing heat was alarming him, as you could feel he was literally hard against you.

“Fuck…” you murmured, closing your eyes, then immediately opened them widely as you remembered his command about watching him. You knew that he had a strong will and self-control, you did not know how much you affected him, but you could not take any risk which could make him to stop. You had to watch him.

Kyungsoo kissed your nipples softly, his hands glided upwards and caressed your flesh, his touch was an equilibrium of gentleness and roughness, had your body squirming more than before, then he took your bud between his fingers, tweaked it and devilishly smiled to you. One of his hands cupped your breast, while the other moved downward, sneaking inside of your dress and his fingers softly brushed to your inner thighs.

Another moan ripped from your throat, to be honest you started to feel like an earthenware and Kyungsoo was your potter.

“Is this okey?” as he clearly intended to peel your dress off you, knowing what you were going to say, but still asking for permission. You were melted in his hands you were amazed by the fact that he was really taking good care of you. Despite of your lack of experience, you could understand the situation was really unbearable not only for you, but also for him as you could see his eyes, darkening and his jaw, clenching more and more by every second.

“More than okey.” you mumbled inside of your mouth, your answer caused a luminescent glow on his facial expression, he rolled the fabric above your head, Jesus, he badly wanted to rip you out of this fucking dress.

“I have to say,” he chased the unveiled skin with his lips. “You have no idea how much I wanted to punch Sehun on the face.”

“W-why?” you tried to hold on your reasoning.

“This dress,” he grunted, threw your dress to the floor, and slithered himself throughout your body. “Is nothing but a sin.”

He gently bite your tummy, you wriggled inadequately, Kyungsoo found a new way to torture you, the whimpers fumbled past your lips reminded him how easy to tickle you.

He had never ever said he was a saint.

He held you between his arms, in his iron grip, then skimmed your belly with his nose, you wagged like a puppy tail as you tried to free yourself, your effort made him burst into laughs. You saved one of hands while he was laughing, punched his shoulders, he pinched your side as his response to your poor attack.

“Do not worry.” his smile was nothing but diabolical, and a sick part of you dangerously captivated by seeing that. “I am not going to leave you hanging.”

Godfuckingdamnit, you were not sure what he actually meant, but you were dying to learn.

Was it really terrible of you to think all of these made him yours? Could you really endure it if he would have these moments with someone else? Could you bare it if someone else got to see his eyes, glittering with ardour, love, and care?

You could not.

Your fingers desperately tugged onto his brown hair, you wanted to believe that if you held him strongly, no one could take him from you. The only thing you had to do was clutching him with all your power.

Kyungsoo looked at your eyes, your gaze was dissolving him as you were carefully watching even the tiniest move he made, he could see his own reflection in your pupils.

Wasn’t it enough to mark you as his girl?

You were standing in front of him, with only your panties, dark navy panties, what the heck you were wearing Goddamnit?!

His heart spasmed.

“You are going to be death of me.” he spilled the beans as he looked at the parts of your body where no one see before him. Well, you were embarrassed, it was tangible from the crimson red tone, which was spreading all over your face and chest, however at the same time, you enjoyed seeing his broadened eyes and he became slack-jawed as he wandered his fingers over the panties.

Well, he was not only one who became slack- jawed!

And you begun to notice that you were too compliant. Maybe you could not play this game with the rules, but you wanted to see him as he was perceiving you. Before Kyungsoo could make his next move, you held the hem of his shirt.

“Is this okey?” you echoed his persistent question, raising one eyebrow. His jawbone was tightening, but he did not say anything, the sudden silence was enough to let you hear his gulp and to see his Adam’s apple bobbled. He lifted his arms to help your sloppy hands.

“Take it off if you want.” he said between his teeth. You happily engaged in the task, in a second, his t-shirt joined to your dress on the floor. This was your first time to see his bare chest, Kyungsoo felt a little bit shaky to be honest when you literally examined his upper body with your eyes.

Actually, you were fucking him with your eyes.

“Kyungsoo.”

“Yeah?”

“You are really so pretty.”

“Oho!” his ears turned to red, but he felt like he was over the moon after your very simple words. You were definitely amazed by his beauty as you licked your lips unconsciously. “Shut up, you filthy woman.”

“You were licking my breast, Jesus Christ,” you hissed. “And I am the one who is filthy?!”

“Your comparison is shitty.” he gave you a feverish kiss. “I am worse than you.”

“Ah, that makes everything clear.” you nod, as he followed the direction in his mind with his lips that are fucking velvety, soft, and warm. He grabbed your leg, bending it at the knee and placing your ankle on his shoulder.

What the fuck he was aiming to do?

You remembered what Baekhyun told you during a night that he was drunk and out of his mind, you were immediately panicked but Kyungsoo sensed it. Well, he wanted nothing but pressing his mouth on your cunt, however he knew that it was too early for taking that step.

He did not want you to be freaking out.

“Calm down.” he smiled at you. “I told you we are not going to do anything you do not want.”

He kissed your Achilles and peppered kisses along your calf, he had you go fucking ballistic. You were not sure if you were panicking anymore or not, the heat between your thighs became a literal suffer, and your heart was ready to burst, you could feel there were knots tightening with every second in your stomach.

This bastard was going to make you cry, if he was not going to give you any type of relief.

“Kyungsoo,” your sound was desperate and vulnerable. Finally, he got his name as a fucking moan from you, he learned how it would be, the way of your lips chanting his name over and over again. He could see your panties ruined, you made a mess over there, and to be honest, Kyungsoo never felt so proud in his life like he has been feeling tonight.

You were needy, and all his.

He leaned forward and kissed along your inner thighs, your grip on his hair tightened, he almost laugh with sheer joy.

“It is really cute.” he could not help but teased you. “I mean how wet you are already, even though I just get started.”

“Damn you.”

“If I were you,” he dragged his tongue through the crease, where your thigh met your pelvis. “I would not curse me.”

You bit your tongue to suppress your cry, your fingers weakened, and your legs were twitching.

“I…” you tried to come up with something classy, but Kyungsoo kissed you.

Over there.

“Please!” you cried with the power of your lungs allowed you.

He wanted to give. He wanted to give everything you could ask for. He wanted to follow your instructions, your reactions, and goddamn, it was really so hard for him, he was fighting himself from the beginning, fighting with the utter and absolute need of having you. Your breathing, that sinful noise of you, the violent shudder of your body, all of them was burned into his head, the image of you carved into his eyelids and he was fucking sure you would hunt him for the rest of his life.

He dragged his index finger along your folds, quickly gliding over the wetness and tapped on your clit with the tip of his finger. A bare touch, nothing more nothing less but he had you, you grabbed his wrist, looking at him with big-doe eyes with tears on the edges. Kyungsoo pulled his hand away from your cunt but storing the reaction you gave to his feathery touch.

It was easy to see you wanted him to continue but you were also terrified by the speed.

He tempted to completely pull away, he could not help but feared if he pushed you so hard, enough to make you hate his touch, or him. Kyungsoo’s head was spinning as you were still holding his wrist and panting like his touch burned you.

Actually, it did. Behind every kiss, every touch, everything he did to you, there were his thoughts he never vocalize, not only his lust for you but his love and care for you. That’s why his touches were permanent, they were going to stay on your skin for the rest of your life.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered.

Trust him?

You could laugh, if you were not extremely turned on by him, but there was no capacity in your power storage to do it. Kyungsoo should already know the fact that he was the one and only person you trust unconditionally and irrevocably.

You took his hand and brought it back to yourself, where his fingers brushed over your nipple. Your hands were shaking to death, but Kyungsoo understood what you wanted to show him. You were not going to know how much your answer reassured him.

“Good.”

Damn you and your fucking spells on him, damn you for being the prettiest in his eyes.

He could feel himself soaking through his pants while your leg was still hooked over his shoulder, his hands wandered up to your sides, brushing over your ribs and stomach. He dipped his head again on your tummy and he sprinkled feathery kisses, switching from one side to other side until your brain melted out of your ears, and the only thing you could understand was his lips, memorizing every curve, every line and mark on your skin. His breathes tickled you, you were desperate enough, your instincts were telling you that you had to relieve yourself, you had to find a way, your fingers wandered over to your panties, however Kyungsoo was too fast to notice your every move.

“I do not presume you tried to do this before.” he caught your naughty fingers. “Tell me the truth. Have you ever tried to touch yourself?”

“Oh, fuck off!” you preferred to die instead of answering his question. You could feel the heat on your cheeks, the only thing he had to do was taking a look at your face, and he did that. One look at you was enough to inform him.

He was going to never ever tell you this, but he was more than shocked when he understood you also did not touch yourself before.

“You cannot be serious…” you heard his shocked voice, you covered your face with your hands, he had to take them off your face.

“Isn’t it more precious now?” he pressed your hands on the mattress. “You have really made a mess of yourself without knowing a single thing.”

“Shut your damn mouth.” you were panting, embarrassed to death, but his gaze settled on you, he was really damn hard had him on the verge of shifting against the bed, he had to repress his own moans.

“I do not think so.” a shiver ran down your spine as his rich baritone filled your ears.

“You cannot say that!” you refused his words, trying to refill the air in your lungs.

“Does it turn you on,” he whispered to your ear. “Hearing me state the facts?”

You attempted to kick him, he laughed and grabbed your foot. Then, he pressed his lips to your swollen folds over the fabric of your panties, damn, your thighs clenched around his body. He continued to hold your wrists as your hips jerked beneath his mouth, had you growling from the back of your throat. He was driving you fucking insane.

“You wanted me to teach you.” he lifted his head, enough to make an eye contact with you. “This was how someone should touch you. You have to want relief desperately before their mouth land anywhere near here, they have to touch every inch of your skin, they have to unravel you.”

You were dripping after every word he said, you were registering to every sound he made, you were soaking and aching, your heart was beating against your ribs with a force you could not endure.

“However,” he slide your panties, enough to create a space for himself. “You do not have to think about others, because I do not intend to let you go.”

How could you describe your feelings when you heard those words? How could you tell him you could not stand it if anyone else would do the things he had been doing right now to you? You knew that you could not hand yourself over to anybody but Kyungsoo.

“Unless you want me to let you go.” He released your wrists, you immediately reached to his face, caressing his cheeks, your fingertips stroked his cheekbones.

“I do not think so.” you gave the same answer he gave you just a couple of minutes ago. “If it happens, it happens, but I am not going to seek anyone else.”

Your answer made him want to cry.

He swallowed hard, partially satisfied with your response, damn he would prefer to hear a certain answer without an open door, but he leaned into your touch before he pressed his lips in your palm.

“Good.” he guided your hands into his brown tuffs. “Now, I will say it again, but this is the last one. Tell me to stop if you do not like what I am going to do. You do not need to think if I will be offended or not, I will not.”

Your mouth watered in anticipation, you hummed.

“Words.” he bite your finger.

“Goddamnit, okey!” your eyebrows knitted together with unsatisfaction, but Kyungsoo knew that you were happy at the moment.

And Kyungsoo needed you to be happy as he was fucking tempted to turn you fucking stupid. He wanted to hear your voice, he wanted to give you reasons to imagine everything he could do to you, and he could let you to do him.

He wanted you to cry his name like a carol, until his name would be the only think you could say.

He knew that how he could make you feel good quickly, but he was not an idiot. To be honest, you were more than ready to cum, a few licks and strokes on the right places would finish you. However, Kyungsoo was not ready to let you, not before he could be certain you were going to always come back to him, not before the memories were eternally burned into his head, not before he could engrave his love into your heart, mind, and body.

He circled his tongue around your clit, very carefully. Every lick was fucking calculated, he wanted to hang you just there as he watched your face between your thighs, as he listened your blabbers. Seeing you like this was literally and figuratively so hard for him, however he had no intention to lose his chance with you.

He wanted you for himself. For the rest of his life. Even though he wanted nothing, but take you immediately, he could behave better.

“Goddamnit, please…” you whimpered like you were on the verge of crying. “I.. I want…”

“You want?” he mumbled, blown to your clit and teasing you with his tongue.

His thumb knocked against your bud, neglecting the spot where you craved for him, he just brushed your folds and bud lightly, you had been becoming louder. It was like a circle of pleasure and torture, you were squirming, clenching, and burning.

“Do you want to cum?” he asked fucking bluntly. You never think that Kyungsoo could be shameless like this, devilish at this level, logically you disliked his sudden cockiness but a really sick side of you, the side in the driver seat, found the wicked version of Kyungsoo fucking hot.

You nod your head at a rapid pace, making him chuckled.

“No baby girl.” he turned and hovered over your clit, securing your legs over his shoulder. “Not yet.”

You groaned with a sudden anger, but he shut your voice by sucking your swollen bud, he was growling inside of him when he felt your toes curled, he could not help but he was also grinding his hips into the mattress, your moans were stimulating him so fucking bad. His fingernails dig into your hips, as he held you in your place, but he started to moan too. Every vibration went straight to your clit.

You could not think.

You could not speak.

You have been dragged into a place of euphoria where you had no idea of its presence, however Kyungsoo fed your veins with nothing but pure pleasure. You could feel that the knot in your stomach has been tightening and heating, you were so close to your first orgasm. You could feel it. You could almost name it.

Kyungsoo let you go.

He pulled his mouth off your cunt entirely and lifted his head.

He trapped you on the edge of your fucking first orgasm of your entire life.

“Why?!” you panted, panicking, and looking at him, searching for any possible reason of this sudden cruelty. His face was burning too, his eyes were never blackened before, however your frustration was fucking obvious. “Why d-”

“You are not ready to cum yet.” he cut your plea off, his hands moved from your hips up to your waist.

“Soo, please…” you could not help but whimpered with irritation. Your voice was so bitter, even though you called him as Soo.

“You will.” he kissed your lips gently, carefully destroying everything you felt in your stomach. “When I let you.”

You could be burn, turn into the ashes in the blink of an eye, on this fucking bed, and could he still talk with fucking future tenses?!

You bite his upper lip, enough to irk him to let him know about how much annoyed you were. The corners of his lips went up, he dragged you towards himself and literally manhandled you over his lap, making you to straddle him.

Your eyes widened to their extend as you could feel every part of Kyungsoo while he supported his back with the pillows, while leaning on them.

You. could. feel. every. fucking. move. on. your. lady. parts.

You groaned, a mix of frustration and excitement.

Kyungsoo held your hips and making you grin onto his lap.

“Better, right?” he brushed his nose to yours.

Your lips parted and formed around a silent O-shape; your hands locked on his neck. He pressed on your hips, enough to make you move in a row, but very slow. You started to feel the knot in your stomach again, however, Kyungsoo was fucking slow, and he did not let you to move with your own pace.

Kyungsoo was almost losing his fucking sanity with every friction you cause while you were grinding on top of him. He knew that he had to slow you, otherwise, he was going to not survive. Your taste was still on his tongue, your voice was still on his ears, he could not survive.

“Kyungsoo, please.” you lost the count, you even did not remember how many times you whimpered, you moaned, you asked him to finish his torture. He was keeping you inside this insatiable mix of delight and exasperation, he was insisting to keep you on the edge.

“You can.” your face lit up after his words, but he quickly continued. “Only if can tell me how you should be touched.”

He added more pressure to your hips, wanting to highlight the importance of his words, and making your moves a little bit faster. The stars were dancing in front of your eyes, and he slipped his hand inside of your panties, adding more pressure to your clit.

“Come on, do you want to stay here for all night?”

Kyungsoo wanted to hear what your learned tonight from your mouth even more than relieving himself. His throbbing cock was not an issue to compare with your observations.

He wanted to learn if he could carve his image into your head or not.

And this was his one and only chance. He could not be sure if you were going to let him to do all of these again, even though he said that he never let you go.

He had to know.

“Because I can easily hold you here for the rest of your life.”

You shivered, but you felt like he really could hold you on the edge forever, and you were already a mess.

You gave the only answer you could give.

Very bottom of your heart.

As plain as fuck.

“You have to touch me.” you whispered.

Kyungsoo just looked at you, he was frozen after your answer.

“You are the only one I want.” you were plain as fuck. “I learned that I should be touched by you.”

[thedudewiththedragontattoos]

Downtown Revamp - A complete overhaul of Downtown from The Sims 2 Nightlife

It’s finally here! This is going to be a long post, please read everything before you download, as there is quite a bit of information to go over! Let’s get started!

First, a picture of the finalized Downtown!

Click here for a relatively complete imgur album of all the lots!

*The pics are not in order. I seriously cannot be bothered going through 140 pictures. Sorry!

*Please note that some of the venues may look different in the final download than the pictures. This is because after building everything I went through and picked/replaced all of the CC that I felt wasn’t 100% necessary to use in the hood, thus some of the color schemes of the lots may differ, especially on interiors.

What is this?

 If you haven’t been following me for the past few weeks, I took on a project to completely renovate all of Downtown from The Sims 2 Nightlife. This means all lots have been completely remodeled and updated. No more fugly Maxis lots! I had three main goals for this project - First, to update everything to look good and be fun to play, second to have each lot offer a unique “experience”, and third, to keep the original feeling of the lots in tact. 

This comes in two versions - a Subhood version that you can add to your existing hoods, like you would with a traditional Downtown, and a Main Hood  version, so you can play my updated Downtown as a main hood if you’d like!

General Information:

I renovated every single lot (except four lots which I removed from the hood, more on that later). Downtown had a special way of reusing the same idea for multiple different lots - I stopped counting how many dark vampy dance lounges with raised or lowered dance floors there were. Three freakin bowling alleys? As I mentioned earlier, I wanted each lot to have its own reason for you to come visit, and there were four lots that I ultimately felt offered nothing and wouldn’t be missed if they were taken out. The following lots are not in this Downtown:

Lost in Love Hedge Maze

P.U.R.E.

The Corner Shoppes

Comandgo Emporium

Aside from those four lots, every lot has been renovated - Including Residential lots!

This is not populated. There are no townies and/or Tricou ghosts.

There are a few unavoidable NPC’s that have spawned when I made this such as a busker and the New Year’s Toddler. There are also a few stray animals that decided to spawn, but those could not be avoided. All in all, don’t worry about this adding tons and tons of NPC’s to your game - I did my best to ensure the hood was empty.

This hood does include custom content. Sorry if you don’t play with it, but there’s just some things that I couldn’t go without. I tried to use only what I felt was necessary to make the hood look and play nicely.

This was built in the Ultimate Collection, so unfortunately I don’t know exactly what is “required”. Recommended at the very least to have NL, H&M, BV, FT, UNI, and AL. 

Custom Content info & Download links/Instructions below the cut :)

UPDATE: You can now download all Downtownies (Except dead Tricou’s) easily to add to this hood! Check out the post and download here!

Custom Content:

Firstly, a HUGE thank you to all of the following CC creators who have so kindly allowed me to include their CC in a single download folder. Below are links to the individual pieces that were used, along with their creators blogs/profiles as well. There are also some important pieces of information and disclaimers about certain sets and defaults below. Please read everything before you bork up your game and blame me. 

Custom Content used in this hood/Credits:

**You do NOT need to download the following items one by one. These are credits. All but ONE of them are included in a single download folder included with both hood versions**

*Those with a * next to their name are Default Replacements.

Pub Bottle Recolors and *Clothing Rack Defaults both by @withlovefromsimtown

Better Nightlife, Tarmac Hood Deco, and Matching Road Floor Tiles by @criquette-was-here

A few recolor sets from @cluedosims AKA @shastakiss

Community Phonebooth by nicvncnt

*Linden Trees, Seasonal AL Pond, Tower of Communism Skybox, and The Emerald City Skyscraper Set all by @lowedeus

Skyfix by @simnopke

Hood Deco Buildings by @dulcinean-alien

Criquette Horizons by @witheredlilies​ and @criquette-was-here​

*Terrain Default Replacement by @dramallamadingdang​

Invisible Driveway Recolor by Roddyalexio

*Invisible Stop Sign Default Replacement by Psychosims

4T2 City Living Murals by @moocha-muses​

Simlish Neon Signs by @polllinationtech​

Some (excluding the DFR) items from the Bespoke Build Set by @honeywell-mts​

Public Bathroom Deco by @nekosayuri​

Vampire Gravestones by @tony-veis​

*Low Poly Tree Defaults and *Edited Defaults of Criquette’s Rural Road by @peppermint-ginger​

I do not claim any of the included CC as my own. If I mistakenly included CC that you created and you do not want it included (Though I contacted those I was unsure about) please immediately reach out to me and I will remove them :)

Additional credit to the amazing and dear Mootilda for this extremely helpful tutorial :,)

Important CC Info:

DISCLAIMER: There are SOME default replacements in this CC folder. They have been marked in a separate folder with “-DFR” in front of their names. If you have your own defaults, simply do NOT add them to your downloads. 

Note about Bespoke Set: This does NOT include all of the items in the Bespoke Build Set. If you already have it, do not add these folders to your game. If you do have it and plan on getting the rest of the pack later on, just delete these two folders and install those from MTS. The items included in this folder are the following:

Windows

Doors

Wall Coverings

Floor Edging

If you do not wish to use the entirety of BBS, then just use the items in the folders I have provided, as these are the ones that are necessary in Downtown :) Thanks again Honeywell!

The Roads that I use in this hood do not have a grass median between the road and sidewalk. The way my DFR’s work is that that space needs to be filled in once the overlays are placed. If you do not use a DFR OR if you use something different, you may have to remove the filled in section. You’ll know what I mean when you load it up. Also, if you don’t use these defaults, there may be random rugs in the road, that is just the game replacing unavailable content.

If you don’t plan on using the Phone Booths that are included, you will want to go back through the lots and add back the EA default phone booths. I am not sure if your sims will be able to get back to their home lot if you don’t download the custom ones, since I deleted the original vanilla booths. 

Excluded CC:

I used these recolors of Numenor’s stairs. You WILL need to download these (be sure to properly download them) as they are NOT included, since Numenor does not allow this.

CC Download Instructions:

CC is included with both versions of the hoods.

Instructions: Download the zip file for the hood version you want, unzip it with your preferred zipping program, and extract the contents into your downloads folder. Don’t forget to check your Default Replacements!

Download Instructions:

Instructions:

If you want the Subhood version - Download the DTWN Subhood zip, unzip with your preferred program, and extract it to the following folder, depending on which version of the game you have:

DELETE THE D001 Folder, or move it to a safe location. This is the original Downtown.

Ultimate Collection:  C:\Program Files (x86)\Origin Games\The Sims 2 Ultimate Collection\Double Deluxe\EP2\TSData\Res\NeighborhoodTemplate

Disk: C:\Program Files\EA GAMES\The Sims 2 Nightlife\TSData\Res\NeighborhoodTemplate

Once this is installed, load up the hood that you wish to add the new Downtown subhood to, and add it as you would with the vanilla Downtown. Note that you will know it’s the right one as the thumbnail will be different.

If you want the Main Hood version - Download the DTWN Main Hood zip, unzip with your preferred program, and extract to the following folder, depending on which version of the game you have:

Ultimate Collection: Documents\EA Games\The Sims™ 2 Ultimate Collection\Neighborhoods

Disk:  Documents\EA Games\The Sims 2\Neighborhoods

Hood Download Links:

*Links include CC

Main Hood

Subhood

If you have trouble downloading, let me know and I’ll throw in an alternate link :)

TOU: I guess I need my own TOU now. Please don’t be an asshole, don’t steal my lots or hood and claim it as your own. Use common sense. I am fine if you renovate one of my renovations and want to post it yourself, just give me credit and link to this original post. Also, do NOT redistribute the cc folder included. This is meant only for Downtown, only saying this as I wish for the creators to get all the credit.

Thank you all once more for your interest in the project! I can’t wait to see what you all do with this! Please feel free to tag me in screenshots, renos of my renos, etc...

Additional thanks to everyone at PleasantSims’ discord for the interest and motivation for this project, especially to Sabrina, Melting Magnetz, Crosimmer, Yeetus, and much more!

Keep an eye out for my next project. Thinking of moving on to Bluewater Village or a Vacation Hood!

Enjoy and have fun :D

- Mike

[forevercloudnine]

new 52 riddler origin/timeline

I noticed an older 2017 post by @batriddler​ about Edward’s possible New 52 origin story was going around again, so I thought I’d make a timeline adding what we’ve learned about his origins since then through The Riddler: Year of the Villain (2019).

Childhood

So Year of the Villain brings back several elements of Edward’s original backstory. The first was that, as a child, he won a puzzle contest and became fixated on that moment of victory for the rest of his life.

Unlike previous iterations of the character, however, there’s no obvious indication that Edward cheated in order to win it (other than the looming shadow of his future careers). Whether he won it fairly or not, winning the trophy was a turning point for him because it was the first time he was given undiluted positive attention, something he wasn’t getting at home.

Edward’s mother is heavily, HEAVILY implied to be an alcoholic (like there are even more bottles lying around in this panel, I cut them out for the screenshot), and he himself implies in the narration that she was neglectful to the point that he pretty much had to raise himself. Interestingly, there’s no mention of an abusive father, which is the bog standard for Riddler backstories in previous continuities. There’s nothing contradicting the existence of an abusive father in addition, so obviously there’s room for headcanons here (though I’m enjoying that Jonathan’s New 52 daddy issues replacing his retconned Post-Crisis mommy issues was finally mirrored by Edward’s Post-Crisis daddy issues being retconned and replaced with New 52 mommy issues. It’s equality).

[Side note: apparently his actual birth name in the New 52 IS Edward “Nygma,” which is also a return to form to his first origin. Personally I’m much fonder of him being born “Nashton” and changing his name as an adult, but that’s just me.]

He says that winning the trophy was the first time he “felt like [he] meant something,” which would seem to indicate that before this he’d internalized his mother’s neglect into a low sense of self worth. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like the high of winning it lasted very long, since his classmates weren’t very appreciative of his victory (which is also very in line with Edward’s previous origins, especially Chuck Dixon’s take in Questions Multiple the Mystery).

There’s not much other information about his childhood available, though Batman Annual #4 does seem to indicate that unlike many of Batman’s other villains, he did grow up in Gotham.

This is just based on him telling Bruce that “all of Gotham City” watched him grow up, and that Edward in particular read and watched a lot of tabloid news about Bruce when they were adolescents (is this a Batman Forever reference??? It’s probably not a Batman Forever reference).

Teenage Years

Assuming we’re supposed to take Bruce’s heat-of-the-moment psychoanalysis in Zero Year seriously (Edward is clearly irritated by it, so... confirmation?), Edward’s desire for attention in childhood results in him breaking into corporate data banks and government safe-blocks as a teenager.

Given what Edward is capable of in Zero Year, this definitely doesn’t seem out of the realm of possibility, but it’s deeply hilarious in the context of what Year of the Villain confirmed he was (also?) doing as a teenager, which is working as a carnie.

I cannot tell you how hilarious I would find it if THIS is the “questionable past” that Bruce’s Uncle Phillip was talking about during Zero Year, but presumably he’s referring to the same kind of high profile crimes that Bruce was.

But seriously, how funny would it be if he was just talking about how Edward literally ran away from home to join the circus as a teenager...

Adulthood

The 2017 post theorizes that Edward started working for Phillip at Wayne Enterprises in his early twenties, and started earning the various degrees you can see stacked up in a corner in the image above during his employment there. That would seem to fit with this timeline, since I’m not willing to add “earned six different university degrees” to teenage years that are apparently already packed full of ripping off carnival goers AND corporate espionage.

In Batman Annual #4 there is the BAREST indication that Edward might have started working at Wayne Enterprises early into Bruce’s sabbatical abroad, since he talked about how “for months” there were nightly vigils at Wayne Tower where there were so many flowers people would have to cross the street not to step on them. Presumably this would have only been in the first year of Bruce’s disappearance, when Bruce was 18; at the very least this indicates that Edward still lived in Gotham when Bruce left, though it would make more sense for him to be visiting Wayne Tower as Phillip’s strategist than as a hacker/carnie.

In general though, Edward’s Zero Year plan is so ridiculously complex that I think it’s reasonable to assume that he took as long to prepare for his debut as Riddler as it took Bruce to train to be Batman.

[Another side note: Not to accuse Edward of projecting or anything (God forbid), but I think it’s interesting that Edward puts so much emphasis on criticizing Bruce for “disappearing for years” and “making everyone think he’s dead” in combination with the COMPLETE absence of his father from his origin story as presented in Year of the Villain.]

I do think it’s fascinating that Edward’s New 52 origin veers away from the whole “cheating” thing that’s so central to his character in previous continuities - not that he DOESN’T cheat when he feels like it (the whole carnie thing), but it’s not presented as an insecurity of his, and here he’s genuinely intelligent enough to mastermind crimes without needing to move the goalposts at the last second (cough Arkhamverse Riddler COUGH).

One final thing from Edward’s adult life that I think could relate back to his origin comes from Batman #23.2, “Solitaire.”

The issue starts with a flashback of Edward having a deck of playing cards confiscated from him in Arkham because he was playing Solitaire (like, genuinely playing Solitaire; he actually wasn’t plotting anything, it was just for stress relief). The comic is his quest for violent revenge against the Arkham guard who took his cards, which initially seems like a pretty average example of Riddler Brand Pettiness, but the story goes out of its way to highlight how much this really bothered him.

The Arkham Guard has moved on to become the head of security at Wayne Enterprises, so to get revenge Edward has to break into his old place of employment. An unexpected altercation with one of the executives leads Edward to totally freak out over her “touching” him, and afterwards he goes to meditate in her old office in order to calm down. His attempt to relax is interrupted by his old Arkham tormentor, who gets in a couple shots at him before Edward takes his revenge...

...which is BLOWING UP THE ARM that the guard used to take away the “small comfort” Edward had in Arkham. Afterwards, he goes up to the roof to play Solitaire, seeming to finally relax from his agitation earlier.

Given Edward’s isolation and neglect in childhood, it would make sense for him to have ended up playing Solitaire a lot: it’s a game that doesn’t require involvement from friends or family, but still requires a player to use strategy and skill despite the lack of an opponent.

[Yet another side note related to the previous side note: Batman is ACTUALLY dead during Solitaire, which takes place after Joker’s Endgame arc. Bruce and Joker are of course later resurrected through shenanigans, so Edward is right to think he’ll be seeing Batman again. But Riddler sitting on the Wayne Enterprises rooftop, indulging in a self-described “small comfort,” waiting for a man who’s disappeared to miraculously show up again is really interesting. Again, not to accuse him of projecting or anything, but... where’s your dad, Edward...]

His affection for Solitaire is also interesting, in the sense that one could argue that’s what he’s doing in Zero Year: playing a game with himself. He’s challenging other people to play with him through his “riddle” game, and he’s clearly prepared for the possibility of having an opponent (given that he has a whole rainbow disco death trap room set up at the end of Zero Year, which he seems DELIGHTED to have a chance to use), but he’s not expecting to have one. Whether this is a perspective rooted in his childhood or not, it seems to have changed after Zero Year, based on his riddle for Batman in “Alone.”

[twilightprince101]

So I made an SCP entry for Bugsnax...

I thought with the ending and all of the disturbing stuff that this game has, it would fit perfectly with SCP stuff. Not to mention, there has to be an SCP equivalent in the Grumpus world. GCP? SGP? SCG? I dunno man, have some horror writing about muppets.

SCP-3470: Sentient Sustenance

[Heavy spoilers for Bugsnax ending]

Item #: SCP-3470 aka “Snaktooth Island”

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures:  Due to its nature of being a landmass the most SCP teams can do is obscure its location to the populus. Efforts have been made to create rumors of numerous shipwrecks--akin to SCP-605 “Bermuda Triangle”--to deter the public from exploring the location. If unauthorized ships are witnessed crossing into the restricted zone, they are to be terminated immediately.           Addendum: Due to the recent insubordination of Dr. [REDACTED]. All authorized personnel that enter or exit SCP-3470 are to be subjected to a rigorous screening process to ensure that no instances of SCP-3470-A are brought out of the restricted area without B Class Permission or higher. Further precautions being considered are a 10 minute test in which personnel seeking access to SCP-3470 are to be placed into an empty room with an instance of SCP-3470-A. If SCP personnel show any signs of wishing to consume SCP-3470-A, they are to be removed from the team immediately. Permission from Professor [REDACTED].  Is awaiting approval.

Description: SCP-3470 is a large landmass off of the coast of [REDACTED].  Spanning 50 mi^2 and nearing 1.5 mi in height. Several sections of SCP-3470 are flux in weather patterns, ranging from lush forests to arid deserts in the span of 3 miles. Although similar in appearance to locations such as  [REDACTED].  And  [REDACTED]. , further research concludes that flora are substantially different in chemical composition, containing traces of [REDACTED].  Which was only recently discovered. Due to this, nearly all flora encompassing the island are inedible, as digestion induces hazardous effects ranging from intense stomach pains to spastic vomiting. 

The most significant aspect of SCP-3470 are various instances of sentient life, which are to be referred to as SCP-3470-A-[1-100]. SCP-3470-A take appearances of common food items, such as SCP-3470-A-1 [“Strabby”] taking the form of a ripe red strawberry with what appear to be dollar store googly-eyes [all instances of SCP-3470-A share the final trait]. All instances of SCP-3470-A vary in physique, behavioral patterns and similarities to their respective food item. Each instance also appears to have a “name” that it repeats ad nauseum despite not having observable mouths or vocal chords, making them easier to classify. Chemically however all are similar, containing faint traces of  [REDACTED]. . This can be witnessed upon any attempt to alter SCP-3470-A instances from their base form, dissolving into an unknown inedible fluid, losing sentience in the process. 

Due to SCP-3470’s flora being inedible, SCP-3470-A instances become the landmass’s only source of sustenance. Consumption of SCP-3470-A induces a drastic and instance side-effect of modifying the consumer’s limbs, thereby becoming SCP-3470-B. The limbs of SCP-3470-B instances vary depending on the instance of SCP-3470-A that has been consumed, alongside how many instances have been consumed prior to said event. Fundamentally however, all limbs modified take on the appearance of whatever the SCP-3470-A instance was impersonating. The more instances a subject consumes the more of their body transforms, beginning with the hands and feet and extending to the entire torso and face. The internal functions of the body remain intact along with full autonomous control, however the structure and physique of transformed limbs change drastically, such as an SCP-3470-B instance’s arm transforming into a banana after consuming an instance of SCP-3470-A-12 [“Banooper”]. These transformations subside in time [correlating to amount of SCP-3470-A instances consumed], with SCP-3470-B limbs reverting back to their original state, containing faint traces of [REDACTED]. 

Addendum 3470-B: Increased Exposure

Proceeding with experimentation with SCP-3470-A instances under Prof. [REDACTED]. , extended exposure and consumption of SCP-3470-A instances results in increasing addictive tendencies and side effects. File below contains audio files of experiments with Personnel D-125.

<Begin Log 01, skip to 00:02:17>

Dr. [REDACTED].: D-Class 125, approach SCP 3470-A-45.

D-125: What is…? Ok, seriously what the grump is this??? Like, I signed up for this expecting a lot of horrifying stuff, but-did someone slap googly-eyes on a piece of corn?!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : 125, please approach SCP-3470-A-45.

D-125: Yeah, yeah, alright. So… (to A-45 after approach), what are you supposed to be then? Did Dr. [REDACTED].  Have their kid put their arts and crafts project on display or-

A-45: Cobhopper!

D-125: GRUMPIN WHA- IT JUST TALKED?! IT MOVED IT’S LOOKING AT ME!!!

Dr. [REDACTED].: (whispering) so much for being the ‘toughest D-class around… ‘

<Skip to 00:08:24>

D-125: So you’re telling me I just… eat it? The eyes too?

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Correct. Do not worry, upon further testing the eyes seem to be made of a material akin to valentine’s candy hearts (lie).

D-125: Huh… alright then. Down the hatch, I guess?

Sounds of eating, cries of A-45

Dr. [REDACTED].  : D-125, describe the flavor.

D-125: It’s… good actually! I was honestly expecting the insides to be guts or poison or something, but it’s actually pretty good! Nice and buttered to, a bit of salt? Reminds me of my mom’s barbeque. 

Dr. [REDACTED].  : And the sensation of your leg transforming?

D-125: Huh? (125 looks down and notices their leg transformed into a head of corn). Oh… Well this is pretty cool I guess. 

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Any uncomfortable sensations?

D-125: Not really no. It’s weird… I can still feel my toes, but it’s like a peg leg. Actually, I think I can see a few kernels wiggling if I try. Neat!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Is… that it?

D-125: Yeah I think so, *chuckles,* this is actually pretty cool!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Hmm… (To recorder) Despite initial panic from witnessing A-45, subject D-125 has adjusted to transformation with record pace. Further research required.

<End Log-01>

<Begin Log-04>

D-125: Heya doc!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Greetings D-125. Have you adjusted to recent transformations?

D-125: Yeah it’s been going alright. The pineapple hair is a pretty nice dew all things considered, and the bacon tongue makes me look like a snake. I like it!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Pleased to hear it. Now, approach SCP-3470-A-52.

D-125: Alright, what’s on the menu today then? Who’re you little guy?

A-52: Sodi-D Sodi-D!

D-125: Huh, a drink this time. Change of pace I guess.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Please consume A-52.

D-125: Right away ma’am. Sir. Whatever.

Sound of soda can opening and drinking, cries of A-52.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : (To recorder) Upon the first drop of A-52’s fluid, transformation has already occurred, transforming the subject's ears into what appear to be soda can tabs. No further transformations appear to occur on consecutive gulps-wha (To D-125) Sir?!

Sounds of crunching, further cries of A-52, then silence.

D-125: Not bad! I don’t usually drink soda, beer’s more my thing personally, but it was pretty sweet! Just the right amount of sugar. And hey, new accessory!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : ...D-125, why did you eat A-52’s shell?

D-125: Huh?

Dr. [REDACTED].  : The… the can. Nobody has attempted to consume the can.

D-125: Oh. Uh… 

Silence for 7 seconds 

D-125: I dunno, I guess since the eyes were edible on the other guys, I thought the can would be here? Wasn’t too hard to eat, kinda like biting into ice. Didn’t hurt.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Very… interesting. This will be recorded for future experiments, thank you D-125.

D-125: No prob. And hey, call me Chuffee.

<End Log-04>

<Begin Log-09, skip to 00:09:54>

D-125: Hehey, candy corn teeth! Pretty sharp too, should make eating these things even easier!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : D-125, you’re nearing complete bodily transformation. Have you been experiencing any discomfort as of late? Any anomalies?

D-125: Nope, in fact I feel great! I used to have this crink in my back for the longest time, but now it’s gone! I’m more limber than I’ve been in ages!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Fascinating… very well then, thank you for your time.

D-125: ...wait, what? That’s it?

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Hm?

D-125: There isn’t any more left? I thought there would be a bit more.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : *sigh,* D-125, we’ve went over this last time. We cannot give you more than one instance a day due to 3470-A’s high caloric count. The instance you just ate was over twenty th-

D-125: You know you keep saying that. Didn’t you guys want to really figure out what’s with these things? When I ate that soda can you said yourself that nobody’s tried that before, so let’s go further! I’m still hungry anyways, I’m craving a burger if you got any like that.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Sir, please exit the room. I cannot give you any more than what I am authorized.

D-125: ……..You know, it’s interesting how your window is so high up there. I can hardly see you.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : ...excuse me?

D-125: You heard me [REDACTED].  , I can barely see you from down here. You can see exactly how I change, the new stuff I get… but I can’t see yours.

Silence for 15 seconds.

<End Log-09>

<Begin Log-10, skip to 00:11:02>

D-125: I know you’re holding out on me up there [REDACTED].  .

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Sir, I’ve told you countless times already. I can’t give you any more than I’m authorized.

D-125: (Sarcasm) Oh yeah, suuure. For all I know you guys are feasting away on these things up there, while leaving me for dust! Like seriously, a single popcorn kernel?! That’s it?!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Sir, that is all I can give you today. Please exi-

Sound of a door opening

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Wh- Professor [REDACTED].  ?

Professor [REDACTED].  : Hello D-125. 

D-125: Oh great, another snob to tell me what to do. If you aren’t gonna feed me, then just shut up already! My stomach’s growling like crazy, and I’m not leaving until I get my meal!

Professor [REDACTED].  : Not to worry D-125, I’m fully prepared to grant your wish.

D-125: ...wait, really?

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Professor, what are you-

Professor [REDACTED].  : I listened to the log of your previous meal, and you raised a good point. If we at the SCP foundation wish to fully understand what these creatures are capable of, we must push the boundaries of what we believe are possible. So then…

(Sound of metal grinding, several overlapping cries of SCP-3470-A instances)

D-125: Oh, my…

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Professor, what are you doing?

Professor [REDACTED].  : Eat until you can’t eat anymore. Consider it my treat, to you.

D-125: Ooohohohohoooo yes!!! Now we’re talking!!! Come to papa little guys!!!

<Skip to 00:32:59>

Professor [REDACTED].  : Subject so far has consumed 34 instances of 3470-A. Since consuming number 21 he has shown increased signs of vigor, despite eating half of his body mass. 

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Professor, please, stop him. This is-

Professor [REDACTED].  : (continuing) Upon complete transformation of limbs to SCP 3470-B instances, any further consumption appears to override a prior one. His leg, previously resembling a head of corn has transformed now into a roll of sushi. His tongue, once a strip of bacon, now a wad of chips.

D-125: (While eating) Mmmph! Oh my god, what are you a jar of pickles! More the merrier!

Sound of sloppy gulping, glass crunching, cries of SCP-3470-A-35

D-125: Ooogh, some noodles too! Love japanese food!

Sounds of rapid slurping, rapid glass crunching and licking.

Professor [REDACTED].  : Subject appears to have increased vigor in consuming 3470-A instances, not leaving a single crumb or shard left uneaten. A query: what is the chemical makeup of instances contained in glass jars or bowls? The bowls themselves? Further research required.

<Skip to 01:42:47>

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Chuffee please, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!

Rapid, feral sounds of crunching and slurping.

Professor [REDACTED].  : Subject has now eaten approximately eaten 1.5 times his body mass yet continues to feat, now with no regards for table manners whatsoever. I have already called for a janitor to wait outside.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Chuffee stop!! You-

Laughter, slowly increasing in volume

D-125: This!! This is the best I’ve eaten in my entire life!!!

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Chuffee please-O-oh… oh my-

Professor [REDACTED].  : Subject’s left ear has disconnected itself from its host. There appear to be no signs of blood or even markings indicating he has had one at all-there goes a tooth!

D-125: Hooooh I knew you all were holding back on me!!! This stuff is delicious, amazing, spectacular!!! I’ll never go hungry again, no more rotting on the streets!!! This is all mine, you hear me?! Mine, MINE, MINE!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAH

Laughter continues for several seconds, sounds of objects falling to floor as volume slowly decreases, ending with a loud clatter.

Dr. [REDACTED].  : Ch-Chuffee, I- urp!

Sound of vomiting

Professor [REDACTED].  : Subject, after eating nearly twice his body mass, has had each limb separate from his core torso one by one, now fully resembling their respective food items, until his eyes transformed into SCP-3470-B instance, resembling the mixed nuts that made up his head. Soon after, his torso and head fell apart, scattering into mixed-nuts. I can not recognize Subject D-125 in the slurry.

More sounds of vomiting

Professor [REDACTED].  : These results are quite fascinating. Further research is required into these various side effects. End tape.

<End Log-10>

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven.

Wordcount: 3k

Summary: 

Akaashi Keiji catches glimpses of another life in his dreams. He dreams of fields of endless gold, of constellation of stars that light up the night sky. He hears the echo of birdsong in her laughter, her song to the gods in the wind.

(Loosely inspired by Kimi No Nawa)

Masterlist link here 

AO3 link here

Author’s note: This fic is a little different from my usual work, so I’m a little nervous about publishing it. If you do like it, would love if you leave a comment / reblog / anything! 

If you’d like to be included in the taglist, do drop me a msg/ask! 

The first time it happens, Akaashi is in his third year of university. 

The upside of staying in Tokyo for university (his mother cried when he got into Waseda, her alma mater) is that he sees his family almost every weekend for cosy family dinners. The downside of staying in Tokyo for university is that he really has no excuse when his parents insist on carrying on Hatsumode, the first prayer of the new year, at the crack of dawn at the shrine close to their home. It’s not that he minds the tradition per se, but he did just spend all night rushing his projects just so he could adhere to the unspoken rule that no work should be done during the New Year holidays and spend some time flying kites with his little cousins. 

Still, there is something magical about starting the New Year watching dawn break and the world awaken from its slumber just as he reaches the summit of all twenty six steps to the top of the shrine, shrouded in the bare branches of the wisteria trees. He tosses coins into the box, drops into a deep bow twice, chin at waist level, clapping twice before bowing a final time. His mother buys far too many omamori, presses at least half of them into his unwilling hands when the omikuji he draws has a great curse scribbled on it. He’s not superstitious, so it doesn’t bother him, but he knows his mother is, so he does accept the omamori with some grace, though he draws the line at the love charm she tries to sneak into the pile. 

‘Mum, I’m too busy at school for a partner’, he tells her firmly. ‘Why don’t you pass it to Yuji-kun, he’s already started work, but hasn’t found a girlfriend from what Oba-chan tells me’. His elder cousin shoots him a particularly malevolent glare that he meets with a placid smile as his mother diverts her attention to him instead.

The faintest shiver runs up his fingers when he deposits the old charm he found in the corner of his closet, grey and faded with time, in the koshinsatsu osamedokoro, the omamori drop off open only during the first day of the New Year. The shiver turns into a ripple of cool water racing up his wrists and roars into an tsunami of dread when the attendant tells him all deposited charms will be burnt in the ritual fire in a fortnight’s time, but he writes it off as a symptom of his lack of sleep and starts to turn away. 

There’s a sudden echo of a nightmare of raging flames that prompts him to swivel around to snatch the omamori and stuff it back in his pocket, muttering apologies to the shocked attendant. Later, when he has time to process his impulse, he’d find it strange. In the meantime however, the festivities wait for no one, so he distracts himself by eating far too much dango and mochi in between rounds of tossing kites up to catch the wind. His uncles slip him full cups of sake and sweetened rice wine to his mother’s disapproval, which in hindsight he should have heeded, as he stumbles to bed that night, head heavy with alcohol. 

That night he dreams of a girl with curly hair, lying in a field of endless gold - daffodils to mark the dawn of spring. 

‘Also known as narcissus’, he hears himself say, hears himself narrate the myth of a man so entranced by his own reflection in the water that he lost his will when he realizes he cannot have his object of desire. A girlish voice lilts teasingly – ‘the flowers are too pretty to be ruined by your obsession of stories written by grumpy old men’. He wakes up with the ghost of laughter on his lips, but there’s a lingering sense of loss budding in barren soil of his heart. 

It does prompt him to pop by the florist near his parents’ house to order a bouquet of daffodils for his mom to be delivered on the first day of spring. He’s accustomed to the old couple running the shop, so he pauses just for a second when he walks into the store to find a new girl at the counter. She must not be used to customers yet, dropping the bouquet she’s working on when she notices him. 

‘Hi’, she stammers, cheeks pink. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘I’d like to make an advance order for daffodils please.’ 

‘For spring?’ she asks, and he nods, writing down his parents’ address when prompted. ‘That’s a good choice!’ 

She waves him off with a cheerful – ‘please come back again’, and he does not notice that there are stars in her eyes. 

His mother drags him back to the shrine on the third day of the holidays, and he obliges her, ever the dutiful only son, even though the frigid temperature makes his breath puff up into clouds and the tip of his nose turns numb. The old omamori is still snug in his jacket pocket, and as his fingers brush against it, he can feel the threads of the charm unravelling, the fabric almost fragile in its worn, threadbare state but he does not attempt to dispose of it again.  

‘What are you going to do once you’re done with your degree, Keiji?’ His mother asks, when they stop by an old teahouse for a cup of steaming genmaicha, the aroma of roasted rice tea warm against his cold nose. 

‘I intend to apply for a job at a publishing company after I graduate’, he tells her seriously, and she nods, encouraging him to continue. ‘I’m hoping it’s something to do with my major, preferably Japanese literature, better yet if it's poetry, but in this market, I’ll take what I can get’. 

His mother nods, smiling at him fondly. ‘I remember you used to be obsessed with Shakespeare and Greek myths when you were younger, all the way through high school, and your father and I thought that you’d end up majoring in that in university. You really surprised us when you chose to major in Japanese literature instead.’

‘I don’t know why, to be honest. Maybe I had a good Japanese literature tutor?’ He laughs, fiddling with his teacup. 

‘Mm I don’t think so though. I remember you complaining that Raku-sensei was so dull he caused everyone to fall asleep.’ He shrugs, and though she stares at him curiously, she does not pursue the line of conversation any further. 

That night he dreams of waking up in an old wooden house, shivering in a thick futon, the smoldering embers from the irori, mere inches from his face. It’s so very different from his childhood bedroom filled with modern appliances and walls of books neatly shelved in alphabetical order, but he doesn’t notice that in the dark. Instead, he reaches for his phone to check the time, bolting awake because that can’t be, he never misses his alarm, mentally calculating that he must leave the house in exactly fifteen minutes to make it in time for practice when a little boy bursts through the door. 

‘Nee-chan’, the little boy whines. ‘I’m hungry. Time for breakfast’. 

Did he just say Nee-chan? Scratch that - since when did he have a little brother? 

He scrambles out of bed, groping his way in the dark to the washroom. The cold water should wake him up, but when he looks up at the mirror above the sink, the face he’s staring at does not belong to him. No - it belongs to a dark eyed girl with curly hair - but it doesn’t make sense, shouldn’t make sense, because when he reaches a trembling finger to poke at the mirror, he is she or she is him - 

The ensuing panic and confusion makes him jerk out of his dream, but when he rushes to the washroom to check that he’s still himself, he is relieved to see that it’s still him - Akaashi Keiji, with dark circles around his eyes, staring back in disbelief. 

He chalks his strange dream up to the stress he carries around from trying to clear all his course work so he can audit additional classes over the next term. 

Except the dreams don’t stop, not even when he moves back to the university dorms. He keeps waking up drenched in cold sweat, clutching at his arms even though they’re clear of the scratches he sees in his dreams, red and raw and stretching all the way up his elbows. 

‘Be kinder to Hana-chan, Keiji-kun’, he hears the call of the same girl in his mind and he shudders, unsure whether the disembodied voice floating through his mind is a memory from his dream. ‘She’s going through an awfully tough time’.

‘It doesn’t give her the right to hurt you like that’, he can hear his faint disapproval. 

‘Never mind that, it’s not a big deal. What are we reading today – don’t tell me it’s anything like Hamlet. That was horrendously depressing.’ 

‘Midsummer’s Night Dream? It’s a romantic comedy at least.’

‘Only a nerd like you would read Shakespeare in high school – and it’s not even in Japanese!’

‘Hush – you don’t get to complain when I’m reading it out to you.’

‘What on earth is going on’, he mutters to himself. The copious amounts of frigid water he splashes onto his face is no antidote to this madness.

‘Sato-san, are you feeling alright?’ he asks his grimacing classmate in concern, lines of pain etched onto her face. 

‘I’m fine, Akaashi-kun’, she manages to spit out, clutching her stomach with white-knuckled hands. ‘It’ll pass in a bit, I hope’. 

‘Are you sure you’re fine? I could help you to the nurse’s office if that helps’. 

His classmate shakes her head, a blush staining her cheeks. ‘It’s just that time of the month. I apologise if that’s too much information to be polite’. 

Ah. But somehow even though he has no sisters, and his female classmates in high school were oddly reticent about their periods (strange, considering it is part and parcel of being a mammal for far more than a millenium) the steps to deal with this particular conundrum come to him so naturally it’s almost as if the answers were presented to him previously in a dream. 

‘Here’, he passes Sato-san painkillers, chocolate and a hot water bottle he’d managed to talk the university nurse into loaning him, and Sato practically whimpers in gratitude. 

‘You’re a lifesaver, Akaashi-kun’, she tells him and he nods, content that he’s solved the problem so efficiently. 

That night he wakes up in her body again. The room is dark, save for the sliver of white light between the blinds that allows him to discern the growing crimson stain between her legs. 

‘Don’t you know all women have to deal with this nonsense every month? But I’ll tell you a trick - painkillers, chocolate and a hot water bottle will make you feel as right as rain’, he hears her voice declare in his mind, and he startles awake to find himself back in his own bed, blessedly clear of any bloodstains. 

It must be a dream borne out of what happened today, he tells himself firmly and shrugs it off. The rest of his slumber is thankfully shorn of dreams. 

But then these dreams start to crash into his sleep like a series of never ending waves, and he’s a short hop, skip, jump away from falling off the cliff into a distracted madness, the rate his sleep keeps getting disrupted. He keeps waking up in her body, it makes him feel like a creep, wearing her skin like an ill-fitting glove, and he decided does not think about how strange it feels to have twin lumps of flesh in front of his chest (his mother raised him to be a gentleman, after all). 

The contents of these dreams are relatively cyclical. He wakes up at dawn, puts on her school uniform, makes breakfast for the little boy - Toya-chan over the primitive hearth before rushing to school through dirt paths lined with trees. His - or rather her classmates stare at her with a mix of condescension and apathy, and her hours in school are spent in a lonely silence, save when Hana-chan gets up in her face and screams absolute nonsense about staying the fuck away from her, which seems a little dramatic considering she’s the one doing the confronting, but it’s just a dream, so he keeps telling himself. It’s not like he can change anything about it. 

‘Does it bother you? That you’re alone?’ he asks her one day. 

‘Not really. I have you and Toya-chan, don’t I?’ she responds. 

‘I suppose’, he says, voice trailing off. 

He catches glimpses of sun drenched afternoons spent in fields of flowers, glances of dusky evenings spent in the forest basking in the light of the setting sun. He agonizes over stacks of homework, digs for mushrooms in the damp earth, climbs through wire fences to scavenge for eggs in neighbouring farms. 

‘Aren’t your parents worried about you and Toya-chan?’ he can hear himself question her one night. 

‘My mom is dead and my dad can’t be home often, he works on construction projects around Sapporo. He sends cash to me and Toya-chan, and it isn’t always enough, but he tries his best ’, she answers, her voice feather light. 

‘I’m sorry’, he tells her a little awkwardly, thinking about his happy family and wondering how it’d feel like to have them torn away from him so early on in life. 

‘Don’t be’, she replies, ‘Sometimes I wonder if it’s better to have good parents who’re dead or absent rather than horrible parents who’re still alive’. 

He jolts awake again, relieved to find himself back in his bed. It’s barely four in the morning, but he’s not going to be able to sleep after that, so he resigns himself to using the time to get cracking on his college assignments anyway. But he makes sure to call his mother once day breaks and he’s sure she’s returned from the market with groceries in tow, telling her awkwardly that he’s just calling to catch up and hopes she’s been well and ok bye mum I love you very much, heart pounding when he hangs up abruptly. 

He has a standing appointment on the first Thursday every month to meet Kenma for coffee at a café a stone’s throw away from Waseda. They both order black coffee, which is strange for Kenma considering his legendary sweet tooth, but he knows Kenma too well to know that the ridiculously successful game streamer is only drinking coffee to stay awake, the shadows under his eyes deeper and darker than those under Akaashi’s own eyes.  

‘Doesn’t Kuroo-san nag you go to bed at a decent time?’ 

Kenma doesn’t even bother to flick his eyes up, busy gulping mouthfuls of the bitter liquid. ‘Speak for yourself. Not sleeping well either?’ 

Akaashi shrugs his shoulders helplessly, stirring his coffee. ‘Mm. ‘I’ve been having strange recurring dreams and it’s been affecting my sleep’. 

Kenma merely hums in reply, and Akaashi finds himself spilling out the entire weird series of events – though to be absolutely accurate, his dreams aren’t real so they can’t be termed as events, but they’ve been haunting him for the past month so they might as well be at this rate. He explains about finding himself in the body of a high school girl with curly hair and a dimple on one cheek, how he’s lived her life enough in the past month that he can map out her days with startling certainty, how he knows it’s not real – it can’t be real, but his dreams glimmer with such vibrancy that they feel real. 

‘Am I going crazy?’ he asks. 

‘I highly doubt it’, Kenma says, tapping his chin in thought. ‘Maybe it’s like one of those exploration video games where you have to take your time to discover its world to figure out the narrative the game is feeding you.’ 

Trust Kenma to relate everything to video games. 

‘That was singularly unhelpful’, Akaashi says dryly as Kenma chuckles quietly in response. 

He is almost afraid to fall asleep again but his eyelids are weighed down by weeks’ worth of sleep deprivation and soon he finds himself again in her body. 

It’s a clear winter’s night. He’s huddled under a thick blanket to shield himself from the bitter cold, watching the embers in the hearth glow yellow and gold. 

‘It’s late. Can’t sleep?’ 

‘Mm’ he replies. ‘Wondering what tomorrow will bring.’ 

‘You’re overthinking again, Keiji’, she chuckles. ‘Tomorrow’s going to be just another day. You’ll wake up back in your warm bed at the crack of dawn for volleyball practice, attend classes in your fancy private school, and play even more volleyball with your beloved Bokuto-san’. 

He rolls his eyes heavenwards at her words and her laugh this time is loud, bright. 

‘You know I only speak the truth. Now, since you need to wake up ridiculously early tomorrow, why don’t I tell you a bedtime story so you can fall asleep.’

‘I’m not a child’, he replies dryly, but does not object when she starts to narrate the tale of a princess exiled from the moon, who is raised by a humble woodcutter and his wife to become a renowned beauty, with five suitors seeking her hand. ‘That’s mean of her’, he mumbles as she describes how the princess rebuffs her suitors by setting them impossible tasks, drifts to sleep as her voice softens as she describes how the princess falls in love with the Emperor, but breaks both their hearts because she knows she must return to the moon someday. He’s fast asleep when she reaches the ending where the princess leaves all her memories on earth with tears in her eyes, gifting the emperor with an elixir of immortality which he burns, because he declares life isn’t worth living without her. 

‘Goodnight Keiji’, she says, her voice shimmering in the still night air.   

For the first time in a long while, Akaashi wakes up at peace. 

Taglist: 

@1tooru @animeflower26 @kageyamakock

[seancekitsch]

Out of the Rain: a Marko x Reader fic

Warnings: bloodplay goes without saying bc vamp, rough sex, dirty talk, semi public sex, telepathy?? me projecting my music taste on this fic again. drug use, fast and loose use of vampire lore bc when i write i am god and u cannot stop me. also can u tell i have like…. v clear descriptions of the setting like i used to work at the place im describing but its not in california

No one had come in for hours. What's the point of staying open? You dim some of the lights in the store, which is one of three head shops in Santa Carla, but the only one open late. You're not really sure why this is the only store that stays open, why everyone else if worried about the three am walk back to their car on a weekend night. You've never seen anything of suspicion, just sometimes that biker gang watches people shuffle out. That was almost comforting, though. People didn't like those guys, so no one would make you use your switchblade if they were around.

The bright while fluorescent lights of your typical daytime ambiance faded away, and now green light bathes you in the “mood” lighting your boss thought was a good idea. The green lighting reflects off of the glass counters, shining it back at the ceiling and making everything that much more green. It fits, you think with the overall vibe of the store. The stale scent of weed, gently and miserably covered up by some nag champa incense, always burning in at least four different spots within the store. You'd long since gotten used to the smoke in your eyes. The music does everything to add to the ambiance. You always have full control of the music in the shop, usually because no one else is willing to take the night shift in Santa Carla. In fact, most of the boardwalk shops had a revolving door of night shift workers. You never got why, something clearly spooks them that does not spook you. Whether that makes you brave or stupid, you dont know. Jefferson Airplane’s Surrealistic Pillow pumps through the speakers in the store. But I suppose no one knows, you're my plastic fantastic lover.

The rain batters the boardwalk outside, a roar much different than the typical hustle and bustle of drunk teens, of the cliques and crews that come in and out; the few that sit and snicker in the doorway, never entering. Some too afraid to be associated with the implication of being spotted in the shop. We sell jewelry and vinyl too, you always say, when they balk at the idea of being in the same room as a bong or incense.

But then there's the other group that stands and idles in the threshold, also not entering. It's that biker gang. Four guys, a girl, a kid. Maybe he’s the brat of the girl and the one who takes himself too seriously, but maybe not. She looks too young for that. They'd been hovering around quite a bit lately, always after dark. You’d spoken to them, at least the ones that are talkative. The hair metal wannabe and the cute short one. Paul and Marko. You knew the dark haired one was Dwayne, but all he ever offered you was a curt nod and a tight lipped smile, respectful but indifferent. They're nice, not worth the spooky reputation they have. Any time it's not just you at the shop, your boss tries to spook them away. Good thing your boss isn't here tonight, because one of them is prowling around the storefront in the rain. That is, if it's not your spliff induced haze playing tricks on you.

No, one of them is out there. Without his little pack. The cute one. Marko.

You walk over to the door, which you haven't had propped open since the rain trickled in as a drizzle at the beginning of your shift. At least he had enough sense to be huddling under the awning. Fuck, he’s handsome even when he looks like a drowned rat.

“What are you doing out here?” You scrunch up your nose as you ask.

“Y’know, waiting for you to show up.” Wanted a look at that cute ass.

You blink at him. Did he really just say that?

“Okay… well, you know it's raining out there, right?”

“I might,” he offers noncommittally, eyeing the spliff still in the hand that's not holding the door. If it were anyone but him, you'd probably get fired for it.

Why is he just hanging around out here? That's hella weird. His curls are getting matted to his forehead, slick with rain, his jacket starting to look a little sad.

“C’mon in, Marko. It’s too wet out here. You’ll fuck up your jacket.” You nod towards the interior of the shop holding the door open as he passes you.

Wrong move, sweet cheeks.

“What did you say?” What did he mean, wrong move?

“I didn't say anything,” he offers nonchalantly as he thumbs at one of the tapestries on the wall. A garish mess that’s supposed to be the worm from Alice in Wonderland, but it’s distorted by a botched tie dye job of dark muddy colors. Every time you look at it, you assume one of the day workers did it.

“No, you said something.”

“Do you want me to say something?” there's both a threat and an innuendo in his tone. Maybe you do, but you just laugh, a sharp exhale through your nose, and bring the spliff to your lips again as he follows you deeper into the store.

You jump up onto the counter next to the ash tray, easy reach for each time you need to ash.

“So why are you really here?” your eyes narrow at him, kicking your sandal off on the floor where it lands a few inches from his boots. He looks uneasy in the space, like for all the wild shit you assume he’s into, he might not actually belong in it. He sways a little to the music, perfectly in tune with the rhythm. You sway along too, and suddenly he fills the space like he belongs. He just needed someone along for the ride with him.

“Do you ever come around during the day, or just at night because I’m so fun?” You’re teasing him, but it’s a nice easy feeling between you.

“Not really a sun guy,” bullshit, he would look beautiful with a tan, “but I do drag everyone here just to see you.”

“Awww, all for me? Do you have a crush, Marko?”

It’s more than that. You hear the words clearly, but his smile doesn’t move. You kick the other sandal off.

“I can hear you, I don’t know how, but I can. I bet you can hear me too.”

I can. You’re wrong about the tan thing.

You straighten up, mind clearing as you blurt out your next question. Something absolutely stupid.

“So what are you, a vampire or something?” he laughs at you, but his big toothy smile doesn't reach his eyes. No, there's something predatory, extremely dark in his eyes. Otherworldly.

How could you guess?  

“Well, that for one big fucking clue.” You ash the spliff for the final time, leaving the roach in the tray. You would think you’d be more surprised, more upset that you just found out vampires were real, and that you were in the same room as one. You have to say, weirder things are probably afoot in Santa Carla. Murder capital of the world can’t all be from some rowdy teens and a ten year old.

“You do those surf nazis?” is all that leaves your mouth. You kind of hope it was. They were the fucking worst. Racist, misogynistic, destructive. You’d had to threaten them a few times to leave your store on your shift.

“The—? Oh! Surf nazis. Yeah that was us. Ate a few of them.”

“Good for you. I mean— murder. bad. But they were nazis, and now they’re dead. so…” you trail off. Not really sure what to say next, but then you keep going. Remember everything you know about Marko.

“No, no I mean, it makes sense. Right? You and the guys only hang around at night. Aren’t vampires solitary hunters though? I don’t remember Dracula being in a frat.”

“They’re my pack. We take care of each other.” He says it with such fondness and devotion.

You feel a pang of jealousy run through you. You work alone for the most part, live alone, you’ve got friends but they’re all over the place. He belongs to something.

“And you're down with this?” he’s legitimately asking. You nod. You don't really have a choice, you're down or you get eaten, but like genuinely you are down with it. If he was going to eat you, he probably would have by now. There's probably a reason they've been hanging around the store, and in your sightline while you close up. You're putting things together.

“Like really?”

“Well, you haven't made me a kebab yet.”

He shrugs, frowns.

“Could still skewer you on something.”

Laughter erupts from your lips while you roll your eyes, music to Marko’s ears. This is why he took a shine to you, it's easy to get along with you, and you're not one of his brothers.

Something heavy falls in the room, and it's not the haze of the incense. He steps towards you, big blue eyes raking over your body, but always coming back to meet your gaze. He closes the space between you, easily fitting between your thighs; the rough patches of his jacket brushing against your bare skin where your shorts ride up. He leans in, like he's about to kiss you, and against all better judgement, you're going to let him.

You're going to let him.

The record skips. He holds out his hand, more like a gentleman than a biker gang killer, and helps you off the counter.

“Hold on, let me pick out a new record,” you turn without waiting for his confirmation, not at all surprised when Marko follows hot on your heels to the back room. Your boss’ office, the record room. Whatever you wanted to call it. His hands ghost over your arms as you push past the wooden bead curtain to enter the room. You can feel his presence close enough to touch. That's it, right where I want you. There’s his voice again.

He lets you actually pick out a new record. You slide it out of the sleeve and walk it over to the player. The static buzzes and pops as the needle finds the groove.

“Ocean Rain, you heard it?” No. He shakes his head, and you can feel it as he leans into your back.

“Echo and the Bunnymen. They've got a new album coming out this year.”

You turn to face him and his fingerless leather glove clad hands cover your cheeks.

He kisses you gently, tenderly. Not at all the way you’d expect. He’s eager, kissing like there’s something to prove. He licks his way into your mouth, tongue pushing your lips apart and you let him. His arms tighten around you as you kiss, tongues now greeting each other playfully. Your tongue explores his mouth, running along each and every tooth in his mouth. Huh, no fangs, you realize, and maybe he isn't actually a vampire. As if he reads your mind (maybe he does), he pulls away.

“They're, uh, hiding,’ he nods, almost to himself more than you. You nod as well, slow and uneasy, not quite believing him, but he pulls you back into a harsh kiss, more of what you expected. His hands roam your body as yours bury themselves in his curls. Still damp, but long and beautiful just as well. He shrugs the jacket off his shoulders, and his hands only briefly leave you to throw it and his gloves somewhere else, leaving him just in a thin white tank top. His mouth leaves yours to trail lower, kissing your neck. Your pulse point. Fucking irresistable. No, that's definitely his voice. Is this the end? Could be.

“I can smell you, hot stuff,” he moans into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You find yourself gripping onto his shoulders a little tighter, but he lets you sink. He guides you, again more gently than you thought he would; bare knees brushing the threadbare carpet floor before you plant yourself. You look up at him through your lashes and he all but bites back a groan.

“You gonna join me down here?” You lick your lips, waiting for something.

“Nah, I’m gonna let you have a head start,” there's a joke in his tone. You're learning that’s normal for him. He’s silent, or playing jester. It’ll be interesting when you let him fuck you. Shit, did he hear that?

“Quit thinkin’ so loud!” he runs an affectionate hand through your hair. “But yes, I heard you. Glad you're as eager as I am.”

That's encouraging. You take your time undoing his belt, connected to faded and soft leather chaps, not bothering to push them down his thighs before you move to the top of his jeans, teasing your fingers at the skin just above the waistline. He shudders under your touch, extremely reactive. Does he get touched like this often? Or is it just quick fucks? You don't want to think about who else he might be doing this with, focusing again on his body, and all of the offending clothing covering it. You unbutton them slowly, teasing. For a member of the undead, he seems to be out of breath under your movements. The zipper is pulled down just as slowly. You run your palms flat along the bottom of his stomach, to his hips before pushing his jeans down to around his ankles, hooking his boxers on your finger along with them. He’s beautiful, and you can help but stare. Hard, eager, and thick, greeting you with a small trimmed patch of golden blonde curls. You wrap your hand around the base.

You never expected a vampire to whimper, but that's exactly what happens when your tongue darts out of your mouth to lick the head of his cock. Quick, tentative little lick, testing the waters. Your tongue swipes across the slit at the tip of his thick member and his hands animate like you flipped a switch, rising up, going to your hair, rising up again, slamming down against the desk. Your boss’ desk. You lick a long stripe to the underside of his cock, paying close attention to the prominent vein there.

“So good, so good, oh you feel so-” he pants out, hands white knuckling the edge of the desk. Heat pools in your core, loving that he’s so vocal. Fuck, if he could just keep speaking. Your other hand moves to your shorts, sloppily and hastily undoing them and wiggling them down to your knees. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock and sink down on it, taking him as far as you can, until you couch when he hits the back of your throat.

“You look fucking beautiful like that. Please move, Please move, you’re so fucking good at this.”

You do, starting to bob your head up and down on the length of him, hollowing out your cheeks and flattening your tongue against him, cupping and massaging his balls in your hand. Your free finds itself between your legs, rubbing gently at your clit, stirred and encouraged by his praise.

“Does sucking me off get you hot and bothered?” Yesitdoes.

You keep bobbing your head, rubbing your clit, eyes trained on his until his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches in your mouth.

“Don't wanna- don't wanna finish in your mouth,” he’s urgent, grabbing you by the chin and pulling your mouth off of his cock. He pushes you back by your shoulders, letting you guide yourself back to lay on the rug. He pulls your loose shorts easily off your legs and settles himself between your legs, too eager to bother with removing his boots and everything.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Do you know how bad I wanted this?”

“Fuck me, Marko, dont say it. Just do it,” youre breathless under him, wanting nothing more than for him to be fucking you. He pauses.

“I dunno…” his thumb swipes up along your clit, drawing a whine from your throat, “For some reason I think you like it when I say things.”

You nod, knowing words will fail you. And he gives you what you want, lining himself up and sinking into you, groaning as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

“Oh I knew your pussy would feel like fucking heaven,” he pants against your neck, pressing a harsh kiss to the underside of your jaw. He sets the pace quickly, unmerciful and fast, fucking hard and deep into you. His hands push up your thin tee shirt, and you can feel his sigh of relief when he gets a handful of bare breast. He doesn't have to deal with a bra tonight. You hike your knees up, opening yourself as much as you can to him, wanting him to fill you to the brim. He looks into your eyes while he fucks you, which comes as a surprise to you. Maybe it shouldn't. You wonder what it would be like to be a victim of his. Does he treat them well? Have fun with them like this? Or is he vicious? You don't know if you could picture him like that… vamped out.

“What does it feel like?”

“What?” he thrusts sharply, snapping his hips into you, making you yelp.

“To be fed on, but not to die.”

Are you serious? You hear him in your head.

YesIam. He thrusts like that again, earning an identical yelp, now coupled with your thighs squeezing him around the middle. You're close already, and he can tell.

He nods, a question; You nod, confirmation.

He pulls at the neckline of your shirt, already scooping so it doesn’t ruin, and exposes your shoulder. Somewhere non lethal. His other hand comes up to grip your jaw, covering your neck but being careful not to squeeze it. You hope he bruises your jaw, you realize. A physical way to feel him when dawn comes. He slows his pace to a rocking, grinding into you, staying deep.

Then he bites. Stars erupt behind your eyes, and it feels like your blood has turned to seltzer. Every nerve in your body is in overdrive as you moan and shake and come undone around his cock. You're the kind of girl that comes from the bite of a vampire, apparently. He doesn’t let up. You can faintly hear him moaning against the open wound in your shoulder, and you hope you taste good to him. He licks the wound a few times more, softly, carefully, like he’s trying to soothe you when he finally lets you come down from your high.

When he pulls back to let you see him, his features are gruesome, full vampire with sharp brows and cheekbones, pointed nose even that much more so almost birdlike. Fangs and bottom half of his face covered in blood.Your blood.  He’s panting like an animal after the kill. But he doesn't scare you. Maybe he should, but he doesn't.  It's just Marko, no matter what, and if he wanted to eat you he would have. Several times now. His hand finally releases your jaw, to wipe the blood from his face. He wipes his hand then on your face, covering you in your own blood, hot on his fingers and palm.

“Fuckin sexy,” he pants, voice deeper and distorted. His thrusts speed up, trying to find his own release as your nails dig into his back, maybe making him bleed as well. You feel the rug burn forming on your back, you feel tears in your eyes. It's never felt this good with other guys.

When he comes, he comes with a howl, buried deep inside you as he shouts and shivers then stills above you. Your chest is heaving, trying to regain yourself as his face slowly fades to normal, and he slumps down on top of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, near the wound he tore open, now no longer bleeding. He mouths at any bare skin he can find, lazy half kisses as he spreads more mess and blood on you. Your fingers find his curls again, winding them around your digits as you stare up at the sickly green mood lighting bathing the walls of the room.

An hour later, Marko is helping you lock up early.

He makes sure to dump out all of the ashes from spliffs and incense, makes sure the vinyl is all in its right place while you make sure the register and inventory is all in its rightful place and order.

“You’re dangerous, you know.”

“Me?” you scoff, “That rich, coming from you.”

I’d do a lot of things I’m not supposed to for you. You kinda don't want to ask him what he means by that. For some reason that feels like a conversation you shouldn't have tonight. 

He leaves the store before you, holding the door open for you and letting you lock the doors. He slings an easy arm over your shoulder, not bothering to shield either of you from the rain as he steers you towards your car. You can feel the rain cleaning your face, the blood flowing away and saving you the shower you were going to take before collapsing into bed tonight.

“Where’s your bike?”

“I flew here,” he says with that devilish smile, and you're really not sure if he's joking or not. Your arm sneaks its way into his jacket and wraps around his waist, holding him close as he makes sure you get home same. Marko makes you feel calm, in a way you didn't feel before you moved to Santa Carla. How long had he been waiting to make his move? And does this mean he and his brothers would be coming around more often? Maybe being more friendly towards you. Each step towards your car feels heavy; You don't want to go home alone without him, but somehow you know he won't come with you. 

“Will I see you again?”

He grabs your car keys from your hand, and sticks them in the door handle. Of course you will.

Right. You just have to be near the beach at night. You know, where you work.

He kisses you full on the mouth, holding you close and tight, like you could slip away at any second. When he finally lets you go you pull away to be met with his face, full on grinning, his eyes still closed from the kiss. He doesn't look like a killer.

Marko watches you as you pull open the door to your car and more or less throw your ass into the seat.  He holds the door as he gives you one last smile, and says:

“You know, you should never invite a vampire into your life. Renders you powerless.”

And he winks.