#help him get dressed in the morning when he can't be bothered to remember how to do it himself

[coloredcompulsion]

Mithrun being a mostly autonomous disabled person with caretakers is incredibly important to me, building up routine habits in order to "fully function" while also still requiring help is so real tbh

[greenandsorrow]

the price for misbehaving (ii)

post rut Alastor x gn!reader

WARNINGS; the aftermath of a very horny fic, mentions of deer mating season, friends to lovers, deer/doe!demon!reader, reader with self worth doubts, a sprinkle of angst, curly-haired!Alastor, undertones of Alastor being a momma's boy, mentions of his past, making out, fluff (literally), there's plot

Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either ❤️

From a smutty oneshot to a multi chap fic. Nothing can compare to the chunkiness of the 1st chapter, but I'm satisfied with this one as well. Enjoy you lovely beings and thanks for being patient with me!!! The art above is by @kalico-of-doom.

~masterpost~

The only time Alastor isn't smiling is when he's sleeping, you have come to realize. You can't help but notice how tired he looks as you lay motionless beside him. You start petting his ears and he groans softly, nuzzling deeper into your touch without even bothering to open his eyes. A small smile forms on his mouth, a real one. Is this really the same man that has been fucking you until your legs stop working?

In the morning you wake up in his bed, a daily occurrence at this point. However, you weren't expecting him to be staring deeply into your contemned soul.

"A- Al?"

Your voice is hoarse from sleep. You scratch your deer ears, flop on your back and stretch. Alastor keeps staring, studying you and every micro expression you make.

You can feel fear creeping into your gut. Is this the end? Is the rutting season gone? Does he want to kill you and eat you now? Will he kick you out? One thing is certain.

He doesn't need you anymore.

After all, you were just a friend helping him go through a difficult time. Nothing more. Still, you would be lying to yourself if you said that you haven't caught any feelings. From his forceful claiming -that hid a great deal of desperation- to his tender love making last night, Alastor has left more than just his mark on you. One could say that he owns you in the most primal and raw of ways, but if he chooses to deny that... -that's all it takes really- then you were nothing but a fucktoy.

"Um... I- I'm gonna take a shower"

Is that you doing the walk of shame? Alastor is a gentleman, why isn't he saying anything?! Not a single thing that could make you feel less terrible about the whole situation!

Now that his hormones have died down and you are far from aroused as well, getting out of bed and standing completely naked in front of him... It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable, small and inferior...

This new emotion, the deep embarrassment that has your face feeling hot and your stomach churning with anxiety makes you dress up and leave "your friend's" room in the speed of light.

You lock yourself in your much smaller room, preparing a bubble bath for your spent and tired body. You smile to yourself a little, remembering how Charlie had made sure you'd have your own bathtub so that you can read your books while soaking in the warm water.

Sinking in the now filled tub, having the water envelope your frame, cleanse your energy and take his scent off of you feels nice. You let your eyes droop until they close lazily, you allow your shoulders to relax, your jaw to unclench.

A long and audible sigh.

Your hands around your frame.

You start crying.

If another deer demon resided in the hotel, he might as well had spent his breeding season with them. You weren't special. The mere thought of such a thing is killing you. You were just another victim of the radio demon's manipulation.

Still, it's your fault as well. For believing this was more than what it appeared to be? Maybe. You are getting more and more confused by the minute.

But oh... the way he had been repeating your name like a prayer... It must mean something to him -you being there for him. You didn't even judge the way he had spilled tears of sexual frustration when handjobs weren't enough to relieve the ache in his loins.

Who else has seen Alastor Hartfelt of Pride under this light? No one. You are the only exception. He wouldn't have allowed you to get so close to him if he didn't trust you... Right?

As your thoughts keep overlapping and fighting with each other and you continue to cry softly, you peak up the all too familiar sound of static.

Another unfair thing! He can melt into shadow and go anywhere he pleases... The sound intensifies as he approaches... you? Is he really thinking of invading your space like that? You can't even cry and be miserable in peace! Not like you're in Hell.

"Bonjou! Konmen s'apé kouri? Huh?"

Not only are you not in the mood to ask him to translate what he just said, but Alastor literally spawned in your bathroom and he's now acting like this is an okay thing to do. The way he's readjusting his lapels and smiling smugly like he wasn't a grunting mess last night infuriates you even further.

"Can you please get the fuck out of here?"

"Mh?" he just stands there in his usual apathy. He's even holding his cane.

"Can you at least stop smiling for a second?"

"Oh ho! I'm afraid I can't do that my deer!"

"But you can definitely get your ass out of my room! I-"

The sound of your voice carries to your ears like a whining child. There's a lump in your throat that you're beginning to fear you won't be able to keep down for much longer. If your face and hair weren't already wet from the bath, then it would be crystal clear that you were weeping like an idiot before he saw himself in.

Alastor is quick to gauge your body language. You're hugging your knees -shielding your naked body from him. Sometimes you swear he can tell your emotional state by sniffing the air around you. It's like your scent is enough for him to piece together the puzzle that you are.

The radio demon scranches his nose.

"What's there to be so sad over y/n? Today is a beautiful day!"

Is he playing stupid?! Because if he's doing this on purpose... Well, there's not much you can do now that he doesn't need you anymore.

Your lower lip trembles at this terrible thought and the lump in your throat escapes your notice, resulting in a broken and weak sob to come out of you.

Tilting his head to the side way more than necessary and squinting his eyes, Alastor asks "Are you pregnant?"

You freeze and widen your eyes. "I- Is that even... even fuckin' possible in the afterlife?"

The fucker chuckles!

"Oh, I don't think so, at least not for lowly demons such as yourself!" The worst part is that he wasn't trying to insult you by saying that, but rather calm you down.

"Go to Hell."

"Ironic."

You can't help it now. You break down in tears. Your chest feels tight as the sobs ripple through your body and make your frame retreat to itself. In addition to your general misery, the water has gone cold, causing you to shiver.

The overlord places his cane against the tiles of the bathroom wall and crouches down so he is level with you. He won't let it show just yet, but Alastor is very worried. There's guilt eating him from the inside.

While he was in musth, in breeding mode -or in whatever you wanna call it-, he wasn't fully aware of his actions. Alastor's mind was blurred from the desire to mate and basically reproduce. Now that he's back to his senses, he has come to the unpleasant realisation that he might have caused you harm in the process of letting out his passion.

And this simply won't do! This deer demon has done cruel and vile things he doesn't even feel particularly bad about... but hurting you... He would never be able to forgive himself.

You were there for him and showed him a great deal of love and understanding.

So, that's the reason you left so hurriedly from his quarters... He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. HE DID THIS TO YOU.

Alastor's permanent grin fades just slightly. It is replaced by concern, evident in the way he looks at your trembling body in the water. He reaches out to gently touch your skin, checking for any signs of pain or discomfort. Your friend's voice softens, it's now filled with genuine worry and regret.

"I'm so sorry darling... I didn't know I caused you... pain."

It's true that you have many bruises and hickeys decorating various places on your body, but that's not the reason behind your breakdown.

"I- It's not th-" you just look down. You can't even explain yourself.

The radio demon's worry only deepens after your vague response and he quickly takes action to be by your side, pulling you out of the bathtub and into a tight hug. Alastor whispers reassurances in your ear, his voice filled with remorse.

"I'm so sorry... We should have stopped when it got too much."

No one has heard Alastor apologize before -not even God, for all that's worth.

His expression softens even further as he sees your tears that just keep coming. He carefully brushes them away, worry etched into every line of his handsome face.

"I didn't mean to make you cry. You must know that."

"I'm not in pain... Just sad."

You do look rather devastated.

Alastor is almost frozen in place from all the guilt since he can now see the bruises forming on your skin. The water camouflaged them, but now they are exposed for him to observe and take in.

He swallows hard, his voice shaking with emotion like never before. "Y/n... I didn't mean to do that. I didn't. None of it."

"None of it?"

Your voice is muffled due to how you have hid your face in his chest. At least he's warm.

"My intention wasn't to cause you injury or physical pain."

You look up at him, finally making eye contact. He's looking at you as well, eyes shining with regret, guilt and what appears to be shame.

What really surprises you, though, is the pleading tone of his voice. It's one thing to be vulnerable because he's hungry for sexual contact and another because he genuinely cares for you.

"Can you ever forgive me for this? I promise, it was never my true intention. I just... I got carried away. And now... It's not an excuse..."

"You really meant none of it to happen between us?"

"Now, now, little deer! Someone's getting ahead of themselves! That's not what I implied at all."

You sigh and settle in his lap.

"Oh mon cher, did you really think I regret our... stimulating times?"

Alastor's long arms press you against him, his clothes absorbing the water on your still bare skin. He then picks you up bridal style and carries you to your bed. It's not king sized like his, but he doesn't seem to care for such details right now.

"Now... Let me see you."

"I said I'm fine!"

"The artist will be the evaluator of his work."

"No Al! Artists get critics to evaluate their work."

"Hmmm, did you say something, dear? Cause I didn't hear you!"

It's a common tactic of his to hide his real feelings by being chatty and pleasant. You of course know that, but in your current state, it's very validating to have him take care of you.

So he did care. And he still does after having stopped necessarily needing you.

Alastor isn't joking around. He's searching your body, subconsciously writing down every scratch, every bruise and hickey, every bite mark.

Ears alert on top of his head, eyes wide open. He can even make out the shape of his fingertips on your hips... He turns you on your stomach only to discover his whole palms are imprinted on your buttocks. Meanwhile, you just allow him to inspect your body for as long as he wishes. All the crying has left you drained but also tranquil and calm.

"I'm fine Al. Really."

"Shhh, I'm not done evaluating the damage."

"It's just a bite or two."

"I drew so much blood..."

"Yes and?"

He just keeps observing, keeps rolling you this way and that. The scratches and the bruises are the most triggering to him. They remind Alastor of unhappy memories -back when he still hadn't taken good care of his father.

As long as he hasn't permanently marked you, it should be fine.

"I'll ask Niffty for some ice."

"N- no... Can we just... sit here? Like... cuddle?"

"You were my solace."

"What-"

He gently presses a finger on your lips to shush you.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to say that. It's not like I helped you with a flat tire or something."

"I don't do cuddling."

"Nor touching for that matter. But... It's not that bad, huh? Just let me put something on first."

You stand up and go to your closet to pick something to put on. Your hair is still wet and your legs still feel sore from your intense moments -but it was a big relief to know he still wants you in his life now the rut has ended.

Alastor's behaviour makes you wonder. He's contradictory. From fucking your throat in his radio station, to bending you over various objects in the hotel, taking you in missionary, against walls, windows and doors, he still seems pretty reluctant to give himself to intimacy. Unlike those times, his mind is now clear -no overwhelming heat involved. Intimacy equals vulnerability ...and to him vulnerability equals pain. The inevitable way in which things had worked out in his life.

"But we did sleep together until yesterday."

The radio demon cannot deny you. He's already sat at the edge of your bed, taking off his coat, shoes and anything else that could make the experience any less enjoyable.

"I wish I could say you'll take this to your grave."

You grin brightly and chuckle at his silly, little remark. Your confidence has been restored -to an extent- after he made it clear that he does concern himself with your wellbeing.

"But why don't you like being touched? Physical contact is a form of affection."

"Or a form of punishment, of intimidation, domination and... many other vile things, my dear deer..." His voice is too low for your liking as he says that.

You don't know what burdens Alastor's shoulders, but it can't be good -and I'm not even referring to his own cruelty and the pain he has inflicted on others. Maybe his opinion on physical contact is connected to the endless scars on his body.

"Oh well whatevs Al. I just want my cuddles."

The way his ears are pulled back and he looks at you almost like he's a shy and innocent boy makes your heart bit faster. At least there's no velvet rubbing off his antlers this time.

Alastor is extremely gentle and cautious in the way he handles you this time. He lays down on his back and you use his chest as a pillow.

It's a cozy place.

His chest. He has some fluff there, just like Angel, but unlike the former, he hides it under layers of clothing and keeps it unstyled. Still, it's undoubtedly soft and fuzzy and you like to sink your hand in it or swirl the soft fur around your fingertips. The radio demon isn't complaining -as one would expect. It's soothing to have someone touch his body in a non-hostile manner. It's refreshing to have someone appreciate his body as it is.

Would you also appreciate it if you saw him as he once was?

His father hadn't. He could handle the child of a mixed marriage, but Alastor wasn't just mixed, but also looked the part -and according to the racist beliefs of his father in the 1900's, that was a bad thing.

As you're happily nuzzled against his long and elegant neck, your friend's mind wanders. You lived during the 90's. What would it have been like if he had also lived during that period? Everything would have been different. The town he grew up in, his relationship with his parents, his career as a radio host -and a serial killer.

"Did you know that my hair is naturally curly?"

Your ears perk up at that and Alastor gently takes hold of them and pulls at them from the root, just slightly.

"That feels nice..."

"Oh I know."

"What were you saying?"

"Oh yes, my hair's curly! Since I was nothing but a tiny, adorable, baby boy! ...my mother... she..."

His hand lets go of your ears and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh.

There's a melancholy about him now and you feel the need to comfort him. He's opening up to you by being genuine and vulnerable. Alastor is sharing a part of who he used to be and the least you can do is listen. You resume your activities on his fluff, almost massaging the area. He seems to like it, for a moment closing his eyes and letting a sound like purring.

"Can you keep this up?"

"Sure Al."

"Merci. What was I saying...? Oh yes, of course... Mama and my curly mop."

The radio effect of his voice and his arms around you make you feel like you're a kid being told a bedtime story.

It's a good thing the other residents have gotten used to you and Alastor disappearing together for long periods of time. His soft chest fluff under the pads of your fingers only intensifies the feeling of being told a story while tucked in bed, warm and safe from the outside world.

"It's truly amazing how much power is given to hair in certain cultures. In my culture, dear y/n, hair texture served as an indicator of social status. My family -a wedding between a white man and a creole woman of colour... Oh ho dear! It was something else back then...-

As a kid, I was always the one teased for having “weird hair”, as if it didn’t match my other facial features. When school began, my sweet mama, she... she would put my hair in locs to protect the curls. Apparently, they didn't like that at school! So my father... he -radio static intensifies- he made my mother shave it. He claimed that if my mother and I wore our hair differently, then no one would take us seriously."

You take a moment to digest this new piece information. It's true that locs enclose the natural hair and help it stay intact. It's also true that Alastor grew up in a time when it was very difficult to be of a cultural background which was different to the majority's. You choose to not comment on anything -that's not your job.

You swirl some more of his fluff around your fingertips before moving your hand to his hair.

"Well, it's not curly in the afterlife."

You feel the vibration of his chuckle through your check that's resting on his chest.

"But it is!"

Alastor lets out a satisfied sound as he presses you even tighter against him and begins rumbling about his hair care routine. He uses anti frizz oils, heat protection oils and then blow dries it. Truth is, that's just the steps you managed to actually register in your brain, because a sleepiness started overtaking you as you stayed laying in his embrace.

You're now fading between consciousness and unconsciousness. It almost feels like you're floating. Is this what Heaven is like?

Maybe it is. Maybe it is not. But you did manage to find your little oasis in Hell. And so did he.

Alastor looks down at your much smaller frame curled up against him. Your breath has slowed down and your eyes are closing. Why does it feel so warm and soft to have you close to him like this? He knows he shouldn't be letting his guard down, but he can't help it when it comes to you.

The radio demon is enamoured with you.

Wanting to make the experience even cozier and dreamier for his favourite sinner, Alastor starts singing quietly. His sense of rhythm is immaculate and his jazzy tunes make you fall sound asleep in no time whatsoever.

When you wake up an hour or so later, he still hasn't moved, but he acknowledges that you're awake with a small hum.

"Oh wakey wakey my darling y/n!" had been his usual response to you waking up while he was in the rut. However, right now he appears to be much more unguarded and raw than his usual persona -no need to put up a show. You haven't even woken up properly and you're already wondering about this new side of him.

"Al? Is everything okay?"

"Oh why, yes it is, but there's this thought occupying my brilliant mind..."

"Care to share it with my not so brilliant one?"

You expected him to laugh or even chuckle, but Alastor goes straight to the point.

"All this... making love and we still haven't kissed. Not really."

Kissing him would mean you actually view him romantically and whatever "friends with benefits" situation you have going on will be destroyed. That's not a bad thing though. Despite your initial fears of your fellow deer demon being too emotionally unavailable and only needing you to calm down the torment of his lust, a kiss wouldn't hurt. Kisses are good.

"We can change that y'know."

You make the first step by leaning towards him, basically giving him the green light that you're consenting to this. Alastor notices it and wastes no time, pressing his lips against yours while wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close into another embrace. He smiles widely as you kiss, his head tilting slightly as he runs his fingers through your hair. After a few seconds pass, he pulls his head back, slowly breaking the kiss as he looks into your eyes with a broad smile -that reaches his eyes.

"Aren't you delightful?!" and he dives back in.

Alastor's second kiss with you is firm and passionate -but not overly aggressive. His lips are warm and he seems to enjoy the intimacy of it -taking his time to explore your mouth. As the kiss progresses, he gradually increases the pressure of his lips on yours. His arms wrap around your waist and his tongue slowly wanders further into the welcoming heat of your mouth.

Once again -just like when it came to sex-, you have come to the conclusion that Alastor isn't that experienced, but some raw power -an instinct if you will- provides him with the ability to do all the right moves at the right time.

And then, you just break character. You burst into laughter. His large and pointed ears twitch at that change of pace.

"When I thought I was doing a good job~"

"Oh no, that's not it at all. I'm just happy." You're giddy and so is he.

Maybe not needing you but actually wanting you isn't the worst case scenario.

To be continued.

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[greeniegirl23]

Random Alastor Blurb Because I Love This Weird Radio Man PT#3! (NSFW)

(Welcome to part three of my silly lil blurbs! These will be random rant posts I make about Alastor whenever the ideas come to me. Love him and there are things, thoughts, and ideas I have about him that I would love to share!)

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

• Okay, when I think Alastor and a NSFW individual, I'd like to think that he wouldn't mind after you two have been together for a very, very long time

• I'm talking years of being with each other, comfortable and able to be the rawest version of yourselves without the other judging, but accepting and being supportive. Good and bad, thick and thin, y'all may as well be married before he even plays around the notion of having sex

• You being a supportive and loving girlfriend, never pushed him into anything he'd be uncomfortable with. So you found your fix in other ways, overtime and unbeknownst to you, Alastor kinda found an issue with that. Slightly insecure with being able to fulfill your relationship in every way except that one.

• It's not that he doesn't care, it's just that he knows he can't supply that emotional connection most people seek when indulging in to sins of the flesh and he'd rather not do it at all than to try and make a fool out of himself.

• With the two of you being as close as you are, it wouldn't take long before you catch this and talk with him about it. At first he avoided you like the plague, until you literally pinned him against the wall and made him confess, is when he finally told you how he felt about it. Of course you reassured him that it wasn't that big of an issue for you and that you'd only allow it if it was something he really wanted.

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

"You've got nothing to prove Alastor, to me or to anyone. I don't care that we don't have sex, that's not why I'm with you and I know how you feel about being touched. I want you to be comfortable and happy with me and of sex is out of the question? So be it."

You watched him closely as he seemed to fidget under your gaze. This wasn't the first time you've seen him nervous, dare I say bashful, but it didn't make the sight all the less rare.

"I suppose if that's how you feel about it, then I won't allow it to bother me any longer. If you are truly satisfied with me, then I can accept being worried about nothing."

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

• And for a while, he did. Everything went back to normal....

• Until one morning, while he was getting dressed for the day and you were showering, he could hear you making sounds of pleasure from the bathroom. It was ever so faint, yet he couldn't stop the flicking of his ear as he heard the gentle whisper of his name from your lips...

• Immediately he left the room, feeling bad again and remembering your words. Alastor wasn't a stranger to the warmth building in her abdomen and heading straight down south, but he was strong enough to ignore it for now, wondering if there was something, anything, he could do to hear you make those noises again, without having to bump uglies with you directly.

• After about a week of being somewhat awkward, telling bad lies, and hoping that he wouldn't regret this. He realized he needed help and decided to go to the one person he knew that was close enough and easily threatened enough, to lend him aid in this rather precarious predicament...

• It's safe to say Angel Dust almost woke up the entirety of the Hotel when he entered his room after a long day of work, only to find Alastor sitting in a recliner, trying to convince Fat Nuggets to 'plumpen up', and screamed loud enough the five circles below the Pride Ring could hear him.

• With the snap of his fingers, Alastor silenced his target, closing the door before anyone could come by and sat Angel down on his bed before speaking in a very dark, very serious tone.

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

"You," Alastor said, pointing towards the pornstar. "Are going to help me with a rather serious problem. A problem that only someone with your choice of careers could help me with, this discussion and all future discussions will stay between you and I. If I find out otherwise, I can assure you, you and your pet swine will suffer a date worse than death. Am I clear?"

Angel Dust fercily nodded. With a flick of Alastor's wrist, regained the ability to speak once more. "..What the hell do you want from me?"

"I request you assistance with.." Alastor cleared his throat. "Pleasing the opposite gender... Carnally, of course."

"Ya askin me, to help you have sex with ya girlfriend?" Angel Dust deadpanned. "Ya seriously threaten me and my precious baby over dat?!"

"Yes, I am. If you have a problem with that then that's too bad. We made a deal and you will abide by it, regardless of if you're fond of the idea or not."

"Just take it slow n' stick ya dick in er. It's sex, not rocket science!"

"That's just the issue my effeminate fellow! I'm not too keen on the idea of direct intercourse, so I'd rather find other ways to make my beloved happy. Without the cost of me being uncomfortable and her being deprived of her desire for my affections."

Angel raised an eyebrow. "You mean like eatin her out or sumthin'?"

Alastor's face made a disgusted expression, " Why on earth would I eat her? I want to please her, not have her for breakfast!"

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

• As one would imagine, Angel Dust had to hold himself back from laughing in Alastor's face as he explained that the term was not literal.

• He then explained to Alastor the many different approaches he could take to satisfy your needs without inserting himself in you. Your partner was surprised to hear about most of these methods, mentally taking notes on this, that, and the third as Angel essentially gave him a crash course for your one way ticket to a interesting shift in your relationship.

• Finally, at 2am, Alastor had enough information (and emotional support from Angle Dust) to put his new knowledge into action. He thanked Angel Dust with a wad of cash, based off the hourly rate the spider usually made and a tip for being cooperative, before leaving the poor man to rest.

• Now that he was armed with the power of knowledge, it was now time to wait.

• Like a predator laying in wait for its prey, Alastor was patient as the days went by. Making sure you didn't suspect a thing during your interactions and doing his best to strike at the perfect moment.

• Then it came, one night while you were in bed reading your favorite novel. You were wearing one of his shirts, no bra, and clad in your favorite underwear while being nestled in a small fort of blankets and pillows.

• He climbed into bed next to you, a bit closer than usual considering the fact that he slept similar to that of a vampire on most nights, and at first you thought nothing of it.

• That was until he began touching you. Slow touches on your wrist and your arm, his claws teasing your skin as he rubbed your thighs beneath the thick duvet.

• He got closer, making sure you could smell his scent. Still caressing your skin, before being bold and sticking his hand up your shirt to gently fiddle with your breasts.

•At first it felt inexperienced, experimental if you will. But little did you know, he was hyper aware of your body's responses. He could smell your pheromones, very fitting of your personality. He could feel your heartbeat pounding against your ribcage, your nipples peeking from the teasing from of the pads of his fingers. The biggest tell was your thighs, rubbing together anxiously as usual when you were aroused.

How cute.

• A part of you wanted to ask what this was all about. If he had forgotten what you had spoken on before, but something was telling you that this was alright. That your lover was fine and actually wanted what was going on right now.

• You could hardly bring yourself to look at him, for as long as you had been together, this was the first time in a while where you were actually embarrassed. The wetness in your underwear, rendered them soaking wet. Anxiety struck your heart for a moment when Alastor used his fingers to ever so gracefully trace his fingers around the shape of your mound.

• You did your best to make your book the most interesting thing going on right now, but Alastor didn't like that. Slowly coaxing the book out of your hands, tossing it somewhere on his side of the bed as he used his powers to cut the lights out in the room.

•It was practically pitch black. Raising the height of your senses as your eyes begin to adjust. You could hear the sound of fabric tearing, a faint gust of cold air brushed your now bare lips.

• Butterflies raved in your stomach and in your core, your breathing becomes slightly heavier. Anxiously, happily, and somewhat desperately, you wait as Alastor's hands palm your heat. Getting a feel for you, the shape of your intimacy, before slowly and very carefully slipping his fingers between your folds.

• The moan that left your sweet lips was one Alastor swore he'd remember for the rest of his afterlife. Adoration swelled in his chest when you gripped his nightshirt, holding on to him for dear life while slowly grinding your hips against his digits.

• It was dirty, lewd, sexy, and all those other words one could use to describe an intimate moment such as this. Of all his years of both being alive and dead, he never thought he'd find himself actually enjoying something like this. But it was because he got to please you, to hear you sing a song for his ears only, to see that look on your face as you fought back being loud, steadily unraveling on his very fingertips.

• You willfully closed your eyes. You were already being forced to listen to your own arousal, clicking softly with Alastor's movements as he began to find a rhythm you were comfortable with. It would be too much for you to bare to watch, even if it was dark.

• His pace quickened as he remembered what the spider stated. Based on that, he was sure that you were getting close. Already your legs had opened wider for him, giving him access to slip the full extent of his fingers into your core. The palm of his hand rubbed perfectly against your puffy bundle of nerves, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.

• The world seemed to disappear and you were on the edge of crashing like a wave against a rock. However, Alastor wanted to do just one last thing.

• Swiftly, he forced you to lay flat on your back. A shocked look overcame your face as he stared down at you. Close enough for you to feel his breath on your neck, his length straining almost painfully in his pants as it rested against the fat of your thigh, as he continued to slowly, yet forcefully bring you to euphoria.

• Finally the knot in your stomach snapped and you gasped, biting your lip while you whined. Alastor wasn't having that nonsense however, grabbing your chin and crashing his lips against yours. Forcing his tongue past your lips, he drew out those sounds of yours, the same sounds he heard in the bathroom that morning you were showering. Swallowing them up one by one, still pumping his hand to teasingly milk you for what you were worth in that moment. Thank whatever Heaven there was out there, because he almost reached his peak with you as you moaned his name once again.

• It took a moment for the shock to settle in. Alastor carefully removed his fingers from your entrance. Playfully, damn there lovingly tracing upwards. As if he were silently praising you for being so good for him.

• He allowed you to clean yourself up in the bathroom first while he changed the sheets, handled himself, and washed his hands thoroughly.

• Time resumed itself, as you both climbed into bed, you were sure to give him a hug and kissed his cheek.

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

"That was... amazing." You said. "I'm not sure what spurred that on but, thank you."

He turned to you, smiling happily before booping your nose. "You are ever so welcomed darling, should you ever require such a thing again, I have no problem offering my assistance to you. I rather enjoyed it, I thank you for respecting my boundaries when it comes to physical touch. It's appreciated more than you think."

You giggled, before cutting yourself off with a yawn. "No problem Alastor, I think it's time we head to bed. It'll be morning before we know it..."

"You pose a good point darling. I hope you sleep well."

"You too Alastor.."

Cuddling up to him as he assumes his best imitation of Plank from Ed, Edd, N Eddy, you both bask in the afterglow of each other's company as you drift to sleep. Happy and satisfied with the possibilities to cum.

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

Thank you for reading my blurbs once again! I think I might start categorizing these so I'll let you guys pick what blurb I write about next! :D

[ashblooddragons]

Greedy

This is a present for my Bestie @sugutoad birthday! I hope you like it girly!

Summary: The day of the Driftmark succession Aegon decides him and his sister wife have much more important matters to pursue.

Word Count: 1332

Warnings: oral female receiving, fingerings, p in v sex, fluff, Targcest

I stare up at the canopy as Aegon sleeps with his head on my chest. I stroke his hair taking in the softness many would believe isn't there. 

This is often how I wake up, him cuddled up beside me clinging to me as if his life depended upon it. It never bothered me in fact it makes me feel loved for even in sleep he searches for me. 

I sniffle a giggle when a loud snore escapes him. He never was an elegant sleeper though I'm not sure anyone is. 

I still remember the day Mother betrothed us, I was overjoyed but of course Aegon being Aegon he had to deny his feelings. In the weeks leading up to the wedding he would grumble each time he saw me, but as soon as we were wed he was completely different. Acting as if our marriage was the best thing to happen to him. It was then I realized I never will fully know what is going through his mind. 

I'm brought back to the present when Aegon grumbles before lifting his head to look up at me. 

I can't help but take in his gorgeous periwinkle eyes, so unlike any in our family. And then there is his hair, if someone only looked at the coloring they would think it the normal Targaryen locks. But I know that if it is humid they become tight ringlets like our mother's. 

He looks so much like Mother in certain lights. I think brushing his hair out of his face so I can look at her properly.

“Your dressed?” He days through a yawn looking down at my emerald green dress with bronze dragons embroidered along the sleeves. They glimmer just like my darling mount Vermithor. 

“Hmm, well someone had to make sure the children were dressed for the day. They are with Mother now and I believe possibly Helaena and Vissera.” I respond with a smile. 

I know he isn't a morning person so many mornings I must pry myself from his arms and dress quickly to make sure our children aren't running a muck. Though many times I never get the chance as Aegon only tightens his death grip on me.

“How many children does that make? At least seven with three women?” He asks with a chuckles as he kisses my neck.

“Well Vissera had her eldest two in there and left her youngests with our Uncle. Helaena has brought her eldest two as well and left baby Maelor with Jace. And I brought our eldest three.” I respond with a sigh as he grips my hips rolling my core against his bare thigh. 

“So like I said, seven children with three women.” He responds with a cheeky grin before capturing my lips in a searing kiss.

“We can't we will be needed in the throne room for the succession of Driftmark.” I say between heated kisses.

“That isn't until mid day, we have plenty of time to enjoy ourselves.” He says kisses me one final time before moving down my body until my legs rest over his shoulders and he is faced with my clothed core. 

He tuts at the sight a frown forming on his lips in an instant. “Small clothes? This won't work with my plans.” 

I can't help the laugh that bubbles up from my throat. “Well I am sorry for the inconvenience, but I didn't think we would be having a morning lay.” I respond with a raise of my brow.

He chuckles as he starts pulling them down my hips, slowly but surely I feel the soft fabric graze my thighs as he continues to pull them down. “And what do you call what I woke up to? You were laying, were you jot?” He responds and I playfully slap his head with a scowl. 

“You know what I meant!” I demand but I know it is falling on deaf ears when I see his shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. 

���Perhaps I did, perhaps I didn't, but what I do know is I'm starved.” He responds with a look of a wild animal staring at its fresh kill. I know he is taking in the gleam of my wetness, the way my breath catches with each agonizing inch his fingers graze my skin until they grip my hips in a bone crushing grip. 

I'm his feast and he'd be damned if I tried to take it from his grasps. 

I go to respond only to gasp and grip his hair as he delves forward using the flat of his tongue against my pearl. I can feel my hips moving on their own accord to meet him with each swipe and suck. 

“Aegon.” I gasp out before biting my lip to stifle my moans when I hear the clank of armor walk past our chamber door. 

“What Shiera, I am quite busy.” He responds looking up at me. I can tell he is grinning ear to ear at how quickly I gave into his little game. 

Cocky asshole. I think before gripping his hair tighter and pushing him towards my core once more. 

“Don't you dare stop.” 

He only smirks, mumbling a quick ‘as you wish, my love’ before he is sucking on my pearl once more. Though this time I feel his long digits graze my core. I know he is playing with me like a lion plays with a gazelle but I can't find any reason to care when he is already making me see stars. 

“Have I ever mentioned how delicious you are?” He groans out as two of his digits slowly but surely breach my core.

“On occasion.” I answer before a moan breaks through me when he curls his fingers hitting the spot he knows makes me putty in his hands. 

“Good, because I think there is no better taste than my darling wife.” Is all he says before he removes his fingers from my core and climbs his way up my body until I feel the weight of his length against my thigh.

“What are your thoughts on another babe?” He asks with a tilt of his head.

I smile up at him as I reach down to guide his hardness to my weeping core. “I think it's a magnificent idea.” 

He only smirks before rolling his hips forward stretching me in the most wonderful of ways. 

“Fuck, four pregnancies and still so fucking tight.” He hisses, gripping my thighs before thrusting into me, hitting the spot that makes my head spin with pleasure. 

My head reels with each thrust, I can hardly form words with the searing pleasure that flows through my veins. I already know his back will be covered in bloody red claw marks by the end of this morning lay. 

“Look at me, I want to see you come apart on my cock.” He demands gripping my hair so I have nowhere to look besides him. 

I stare into his eyes as my pleasure finally over takes me and wave after wave rolls through me.

“Gods Shiera.” I hear him groan before he gives one final thrust and I feel his seed fill me.

We both lay there catching our breath when suddenly Aegon let's out a sharp laugh. 

“I didn't even get your dress off.” He says staring down at my emerald dress with wonder. “I must have really need a fuck.” 

I can't help but laugh with him as he runs his hands up and down the velvet of my dress only stopping to grope my buttocks or breasts.

“You must have.” I respond, wrapping my arms around his neck before kissing his lips.

Perhaps there really are more important things to do than worry about a succession to an island. Like enjoying my husband's company. I think watching aegon grab a linen shirt before pulling out of me and holding it against my core making sure nothing ruins my dress…well at least more.

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @thelastemzy @themoonlitquill @athzhowakar

[jqafterdark]

Seeing S/O in Lingerie Reaction

From a request in my main blog, this has no smut but VERY SUGGESTIVE so... yeah ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sebastian Moran, William James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes, and Louis James Moriarty

Tag/s: Historically inaccurate lingerie

Sebastian Moran

The man whistled as soon as you entered his field of vision.

He looked like a kid in a candy store.

Straight up GRINNING from ear to ear.

If you're showing him a variety, he'll inspect every single one of them.

It's almost alarming how focused he looks.

Little do you know, he's thinking about how to use whatever lace or strings your outfit has to his advantage in the bedroom.

The minute you're within his reach, Sebastian pulls you to his lap to get a closer look.

He takes his time to take in your figure while his hands roam through your body.

Even as you walk away, his eyes never leave your figure.

Like you were one of his targets on missions.

He would definitely tease you, wanting you to get riled up as much as he is.

What's more annoying is he wants you to say that you want to do it before he continues.

He's torn between taking it off or just doing the deed with it still on you.

Whatever position you're in, he definitely has a good view of you.

A mirror might be involved.

"I'm back-" Sebastian abruptly stopped as your eyes met in the mirror, wide in shock.

His eyes traveled down to your new short silk nightgown and stockings, going up and down before smiling.

"You could have just said so," he chuckled, removing his coat as he walked up to you.

You quickly grabbed whatever was closest to you, in this case, a hairbrush, and pointed it at him as you kept a distance.

"Oh no, you don't! Last time, I chased the target through the city with a limp!" you muttered, keeping your distance as your eyes never left him.

"Do you have a mission tomorrow?" Sebastian innocently asked, making you pause.

"...No...?"

"Then that settles it," he smiled, quickly hugging your waist.

"SEBASTIAN!"

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle. Wouldn't want your pretty outfit to rip, now do we?"

William James Moriarty

When you asked him to come with you to go underwear shopping, he was shocked, to say the least.

But he quickly recovered and agreed.

You definitely have his attention now.

While his eyes kept following you while he drank his tea, his smile was different than it usually was.

It was more... devious, so to speak.

While he keeps his composure, a lot has happened in his mind.

While you were picking some things, William acted like a perfect gentleman.

Holds the clothes you picked, heartfelt compliments to boost your confidence, over all the best boyfriend you could ask for.

Almost too good to be true. And it was.

He might have thought of a few scenarios on how the two of you could get away with it in the store.

It helped that it was a pretty private dressing room, considering the store was made just for the nobles, where it was just you and him.

Even the workers were far from earshot, attending to the other customers at the front.

But he didn't continue since he saw you enjoying your little date and didn't want to ruin your good mood.

It didn't help that you would ask him for help to put some of them on, though... Or take them off.

Besides, he has the whole night planned just for the two of you, and he's making sure no one would bother you two.

You hummed happily as you swung the bags in your arms, satisfied with your purchases.

"I'm surprised you agreed to go shopping with me, Will!" you mused as you turned to William, "Didn't you have a meeting later with everyone? Wouldn't you be late?"

William gave you a smile as he grabbed your hand, "The meeting was moved since some of the professors were out sick,"

"Is that so..." you trailed off, shrugging off his response.

William quietly chuckled, remembering the surprised expressions his comrades had when he said the meeting was canceled and assigned a new mission to everyone.

The manor was now empty until morning.

"Well, whatever! I can't wait to try these at home," you beamed, looking down at your new haul.

"Indeed," William agreed, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Sherlock Holmes

He never saw the appeal of the lingerie until he saw it on you.

Now, lace is his favorite thing on your body.

The first time he saw you in lingerie, it was like he shut down.

He didn't say a word, but his eyes were glued to you as he reached his hand out to you.

When you walked up to him, he eyed every inch of your body, engraving the image of you in his mind.

To him, you looked ethereal.

Like beauty personified.

When he did speak, it was soft and breathless, as if you rendered him speechless.

And when you did it, the sight of you in lingerie and covered in hickeys he left is now his favorite thing.

He gets more possessive whenever he sees you in lingerie.

And surprisingly more gentle and slow, wanting to enjoy every second of it.

Now, every time you buy a new set, he likes having a private fashion show.

When you bring him to a lingerie store, he is not embarrassed at all.

Hell, he'd even pick out a few things for you.

You can tell his compliments are genuine with how serious his expression is.

"Sherlock?" you called out, slowly walking up to him.

His eyes were completely wide as he looked at you.

"Sherl?" you called out again, but no response as he continued to stare at you.

You bit your lip as you covered yourself, feeling self-conscious wearing nothing but a bustier with matching underwear.

"Don't,"

"Huh?" Sherlock quickly grabbed your hands, pulling them down to your side.

"Don't hide it. You look beautiful," Sherlock breathed out, mesmerized by your outfit as his eyes slowly looked up at you.

You felt your face flush as you looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

"You're staring too much,"

"I disagree,"

Louis James Moriarty

You almost gave the man a heart attack.

He was not expecting to see you in lace and sheer one night after a long day of house chores.

Was it an unwelcomed surprise? No. Definitely not.

That night, he was just hoping to have some downtime with you after working the whole day.

So when he saw you by your dresser half-dressed putting on stockings, it was like the man turned into stone.

Minutes later, Louis came back and saw you in your robe, relieved to see he was okay.

His face became completely red when he remembered what happened and apologized for walking in on you.

Even though you forgave Louis, he's still scolding himself for liking what he saw.

What's more, his eyes would gaze over your robe when it would slip.

Explaining why he slammed his head on the table was interesting, to say the least.

So when you told Louis it was okay for him to look, he was still shy. But you would catch him stealing glances your way.

He tries to compliment you, say anything coherent for that matter. But he just mutters something while looking at the ground.

However, the moment he got more confident, his hands would not let you go.

Suddenly, he's fluent in dirty talk and knows just what to say to get you in the mood.

And he makes sure you know just how beautiful and alluring you looked that night.

"I truly apologize..." Louis muttered, a cold towel over his head as you chuckled, tying the robe tightly around your waist.

"Don't be. I'm just surprised," you reassured as you removed the towel, making Louis meet your eyes.

You weren't sure, but you swear you saw his eyes tracing your robe down to your chest.

His face turned completely red instantly, making him turn away.

You breathed out a smile as you hugged him tightly, kissing the top of his head.

"I'm really not mad, Louis!" you giggled, swaying side-by-side.

"Besides, that was for your eyes only, you know?" you grinned, making the man freeze as steam came out of his face as you snickered.

"Please don't tease me..."

[evilbihan]

Bi-Han's fate - Pt. 3

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of canon-typical gore and violence, mentions of illness and character death

Notes: As it's often the case with passion projects, they tend to take on a life of their own after a while. This story has turned out far longer than I initially anticipated. Originally, it was only planned as a oneshot, but now we're on chapter 3 already and there's at least one more chapter coming after that. This particular chapter will reveal a lot and elaborate on things that were never really talked about or explained in the main story. This chapter is also emotionally heavy, so be prepared for that.

Disclaimer: see previous posts

Pairings: Bi-Han x Sektor, Kuai Liang x Harumi

Previous parts: Part 1, Part 2

Tags: @yandere-transformers-rock @lacymarygold chapter 3 is out!

He feels the unevenness of his own skin beneath his fingertips, the scars, pale and faded, a painful reminder of his suffering forever engraved into his flesh. When the drills whirred to life and descended towards him, he still held onto the foolish hope that his brothers would come to save him. Even as the needles began to tear his skin to shreds, a part of him still expected to see two familiar figures burst through the doors, a flash of silver and one of gold, both rushing to his side, coming to his rescue.

He died thinking of his brothers. He remembers it now.

Bi-Han closes his eyes, letting the gentle stream of warm water rinse those thoughts away. He doesn't want to remember.

There is no point in dwelling on these things anymore. He doesn't intend to spend his last days pitying himself or thinking of those who abandoned him. But then again... He's not sure how else to spend them. He realizes now that he doesn't know who he is anymore. Without his hatred, his bitterness, his ruthless ambition... What else is left of him?

He tells himself that it no longer matters.

He hates that the cold affects him now. Goosebumps have spread across his skin, annoying little bumps reminding him of just how weak he is now. Even the element he once wielded had turned against him.

He, Sub-Zero, is shivering. How humiliating.

He turns off the water, steps out of the shower and reaches for the towel. His wet hair sticks to his face, but he doesn't bother to brush it back. After drying himself off, he wraps the towel around his waist and returns to his room to find clean, new robes sitting on his bed. Liu Kang had them delivered to him earlier this morning, after stopping by to let him know he's being released from his confinement – and to tell him that Tomáš had returned to the Shirai Ryu. Bi-Han is surprised about the first and relieved by the latter. He doesn't want his brother to stay with him and watch him waste away slowly. Without his cryomancy and without the chaos magic to keep him alive, he assumes he will eventually decompose. It won't be pretty and it won't be a dignified end, he knows, but choice is a luxury he can no longer afford. It's better if Tomáš doesn't see him like that. And yet, a part of him can't help feeling disappointed that his brother had left.

To distract himself, Bi-Han takes a closer look at the new clothes. It's a uniform, different in style than his old one, lighter in color, white and pale blue, with a collar not quite as high and made from softer fabric. Hesitantly, he picks up one of the thin bands meant to be worn on his bicep and notices it lacks the Lin Kuei symbol. He doesn't know why Liu Kang would have this made for him, but he has to admit he likes this new uniform better than the Wu Shi academy robes. At least, he won't have to walk around looking like one of the fire god's lackeys anymore. Bi-Han ties his still slightly damp hair back into the usual bun and gets dressed without haste. He glances over at the mirror in the corner of his room, still covered by a sheet. For a moment, he's tempted to remove it, to take a look at who he is now. There's no use in holding onto the memory of who he once was. A proud grandmaster, powerful and feared. That man, he knows, is long dead, even if his body persisted.

With a deep inhale, he grabs the sheet and tears it off.

His reflection stares back at him with familiar eyes and the same stern face he had watched growing older over the years. There is no monster, no mutilated, horrifying demon looking back at him. He's the same he always has been, scarred, pale, but human. Barely a trace of Havik's grim work is left on him now, only a few faint green lines along his scars. But it doesn't matter if he still looks the same. He is someone different now. Not fully dead and not alive. No grandmaster. No cryomancer. Not even a wraith. Nothing.

He tosses the sheet back over the mirror, turns around and leaves the room, hurrying to get out of the temple.

Outside, the warmth of another late spring day greets him. Bi-Han doesn't quite know what to do with his newfound freedom. He could go to the library to read, he enjoys the quiet solitude and the smell of books, but after being inside for so long, he doesn't plan to return there just yet. Instead, he decides to take a walk through the temple gardens. Without the daily treatment, some of his strength had returned, even if only temporary, as if his body wants to remind him of just how powerful he once was before the inevitable collapse. He is still frail, still shaky on his legs, but at least he doesn't need anyone's help to walk anymore. It almost makes it worth the price he will ultimately pay, to let the chaos magic within him destroy him from the inside. For a while, he follows the winding paths, passing shrines and statues until he gets to a more quiet section of the gardens.

Further up ahead, the path ends. Someone had set up an easel there, a small table for snacks and drinks as well as benches with pillows to adorn them. A small cozy seating area in the shade of a maple tree. Bi-Han can't deny that it looks inviting. He finds a familiar shape sitting there in front of a canvas, painting.

He clears his throat and Liu Kang turns around.

"Oh, Bi-Han..." The fire god greets him with a warm smile. "I didn't hear you approaching. Please sit down. Help yourself to some tea."

"You paint?"

"You sound surprised."

Bi-Han scoffs. "I didn't think a god would take interest in something so trivial."

"Creating this timeline was a lengthy and tedious process. Before I had Geras to keep me company, I felt lonely. To preserve my own sanity, I decided to take up a... What do mortals call it?" He pauses to search his mind for the right word. Then, a smile spreads across his face. "Ah, yes. A hobby."

Bi-Han raises an eyebrow, but chooses not to comment on it.

He finds it ridiculous to mindlessly scribble on paper. An entirely useless activity. And messy, he thinks to himself as he scrunches his nose at the sight of the colorful stains on Liu Kang's hands. However, he decides to keep his thoughts to himself this once.

"Since you're here now..." Liu Kang gestures towards his unfinished work on the easel. "Tell me what you see."

"Lines of paint on a canvas. What else is there to see?"

"They're memories", Liu Kang corrects him. "Take a look at this tree. Next spring, these leaves won't be the same. Once they are gone, we can only cherish the memory of them. Human lives are much the same. You should value yours more."

Bi-Han crosses his arms and decides to ignore the last part. "I'm familiar with the concept of mortality."

Liu Kang smiles. "Of course."

Although he has no interest in it, Bi-Han steps closer to inspect the painting. To him, it's meaningless. He recognizes that the fire god had indeed drawn the maple tree in front of him, some of the lines depitcting its thick branches with the finer strokes resembling leaves. He has to admit Liu Kang is good at this, even if he fails to see how such passtime activities serve any purpose.

"Your words the other day... I've been thinking about them. You were right, I have failed to save many." The fire god's tone and expression suddenly become more serious. "I've always valued your honesty with me. So tell me, have I doomed this timeline?"

The question perplexes him. Why is Liu Kang asking him, of all people? Liu Kang rarely cares to hear his opinion – one of the reasons why Bi-Han had taken issue with working for him in the first place.

He doesn't answer right away.

For the longest time, Bi-Han had held a grudge against Liu Kang, for causing the rift between his brothers and him, for refusing to give the Lin Kuei what they rightfully deserve, for not allowing him to kill Havik, for insisting on curing him and forcing him to live through the agonizing process of becoming human once more... And yet... He thinks back to how tirelessly Liu Kang had cared for him. When Bi-Han had lashed out at the healers, Liu Kang had patiently taken on the task of tending to his scars himself, bringing him food and medicine, even guiding him through breathing exercies to help calm him down when his mind was taking him back to Havik's dungeons. Everything Liu Kang had done for him, Bi-Han knows he cannot repay it in this lifetime. He understands now that Liu Kang isn't at fault for what happened to him. He knows he has no one to blame for his mistakes but himself. Even if his pride doesn't allow him to admit it, he is grateful that Liu Kang hasn't given up on him.

"You haven't doomed your timeline", he responds after some time had passed. "But you are too merciful with its enemies. You believe you can save lives and still be good and just. There's a cost to each live you save. When I became grandmaster, I understood I had to make impossible choices and live with them. Sometimes that meant striking preemptively and punishing harshly to not allow a threat to come back. You show kindness even to those undeserving. It's... foolish."

"It's not foolish to show kindness, Bi-Han."

"To assume it will be returned is."

Liu Kang puts the brush down with a sigh and turns to face him fully. "What do you mean?"

"You cannot save everyone, Liu Kang. It's a noble goal. But it's unattainable. Spare your enemies once and they will return stronger. More will die. Is that what you want?"

Liu Kang shakes his head. "If I answer bloodshed with bloodshed, how will I be different from those seeking to destroy this timeline?"

"The difference is your intention."

The firegod doesn't respond. He seems lost in thought for a while, pursing his lips as he stares off into the distance with a slight frown. Bi-Han can tell his words have sparked doubt. Liu Kang must know that he's right, even if he's not willing to say so out loud. Eventually, the fire god's attention turns back to him and he smiles.

Bi-Han narrows his eyes. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Now I finally understand. This is why this timeline needs you, Bi-Han."

"To do the dirty work for you?"

"To protect it when I cannot. This is what you're meant to do." Liu Kang casts his eyes down and sighs. "I regret that I wasn't able to save you."

Instead of responding, Bi-Han sits down on one of the benches and reaches for a cup of tea. "I don't blame you anymore. My choices were my own."

"I should have tried harder to stop you, for your own sake. I believed that mortals must make their own decisions. I never intended to control them, despite of what you might believe. You were always free to pursue your own ambitions."

"Then why did you try to stand in my way?"

"Because your ambition blinds you, Bi-Han. The greatness you strive to achieve, you have already achieved it, even if you fail to see that. It was always there. In the admiration your brothers had for you. In your Lin Kuei's reverence for you. To them, there was never a greater warrior or a worthier grandmaster. When you chose to resign from your duties, your clan didn't hesitate to follow you. All of your Lin Kuei were willing to lay down their lives for you in a heartbeat. That is power, Bi-Han. You have always held power." Liu Kang shakes his head sadly. "Was it not enough to you? Whose approval do you seek? What is it that you want?"

It doesn't happen often that he finds himself speechless, but this time Bi-Han doesn't know what to say. He had never thought of it that way. His father's words echo in his mind, words he wishes he could forget. He remembers how his brothers used to compare him to the late grandmaster, criticizing his every decision when all he had wanted to do was to prepare their clan for the future. They can't continue to fight their enemies with spears and daggers. The Lin Kuei need to keep up with the world around them, a world that constantly evolves and changes. To his brothers, however, his visions had only been a stain on their father's legacy and an insult to the Lin Kuei's traditions. To them and to his father, his efforts hadn't been good enough. Never good enough.

"You wouldn't understand", Bi-Han mutters bitterly.

"Then help me to understand."

Bi-Han grits his teeth. "What's the purpose of greatness when no one knows of it?"

Liu Kang sighs. "Earthrealm cannot know about the Lin Kuei. It would only lead to chaos and you've seen the damage chaos causes first hand. Believe me, it is also in the Lin Kuei's interest if their existence remains a secret. If you truly wish to protect your clan, you must understand this."

The fire god watches him, almost as if he's waiting for him to protest. He doesn't.

"If you're still unhappy, I am willing to discuss new terms with you."

"It's Sektor you should be discussing terms with, not me.” Bi-Han tries the tea. It's surprisingly good, pleasantly warm and not too sweet.

"I still haven't given up on saving you", Liu Kang reminds him with a small smile.

Bi-Han snorts in disapproval. "You already know what I want. A part of Earthrealm."

"I do not own Earthrealm, Bi-Han. I'm its protector."

"Then you have nothing to give me."

"I regret that you think so."

Bi-Han watches Liu Kang pick up a cup of tea himself. He doesn't know if gods need to eat or drink and he also doesn't care to ask.

"I want my clan's freedom."

"Your clan has always been free."

"Yet you expect us to serve you."

The fire god shakes his head. "No, I've never asked that of you. Protecting this timeline is in your interest as well. I never asked for servitude or worship, Bi-Han. If that is what you believe, you must have misunderstood my intentions."

Bi-Han falls silent. Perhaps he had indeed misjudged Liu Kang.

"I've always considered you an equal." Liu Kang admits. "In fact, I have come to think of you as a friend."

"I don't have friends."

"Then consider me your ally."

Two years ago, Bi-Han would have been convinced that Liu Kang's words are nothing but empty lies, a clever attempt to manipulate him and earn his trust. But now... He doesn't know anymore. If it weren't for the fire god, he wouldn't still be alive, so nearly restored and human again. Even when his own brothers had turned their backs on him, Liu Kang had refused to give up on him, making pleas to Empress Mileena to ensure his life would be spared, agreeing to restore him, even after Bi-Han had continuously disobeyed him.

"I was a fool to believe Shang Tsung's lies", he finally admits. It takes all of his willpower to do so. His pride rarely allows him to acknowledge when he's in the wrong.

"You were tempted by his false promises. Don't blame yourself."

He does blame himself, but he doesn't say so out loud.

"You seem much more at peace now. I can see that talking to Tomáš has helped you."

"The paint on your brush is drying."

Liu Kang smiles. "I hope you can reconcile with your brothers, Bi-Han."

"Why? Tomas has left to rejoin Kuai Liang. They've made their decision and I've made mine."

"Tomáš didn't leave. I sent him away to ask Kuai Liang for the Arctikan Hailstone. He left because he's trying to save your life."

Again, he's left speechless. Why would Tomáš try and convince Kuai Liang to save him? In all these years, Bi-Han had never been a good brother to him. He knows this. Tomáš should hate him. He has plenty of reasons to. Bi-Han doesn't understand why Tomas would do this for him. Why go through all this effort to save someone like him? He doesn't deserve it.

"Kuai Liang won't give the stone to him."

Liu Kang raises his eyebrows. "What makes you say that?"

Bi-Han takes another sip from his cup and grimaces. The tea suddenly tastes bitter. "If anyone wants my death more than Shao, more than Empress Mileena, even more than I do... it's Kuai Liang."

-

He crouches into a low fighting stance opposite from his grandmaster, his gaze following Kuai Liang's every move, bracing himself for the incoming attack. When his brother hesitates, he decides to strike first, the punch a mere demonstration of technique, not a blow aimed to land. Kuai Liang will easily be able to dodge or block it, and yet he puts much more force behind it than necessary, his lingering anger from yesterday manifesting in a more aggressive fighting style. Kuai Liang catches his fist and Tomáš notices the brief look of surprise on his face before his brother counters with a kick aimed at his ribs. Tomáš uses his forearm to block it. Pain shoots all the way up into his shoulder, but he doesn't let that slow him down. They trade a few more blows while their recruits watch in stunned silence, their eyes wide and mouths agape. This sparring session is meant to teach them how to utilize the basics they had already learned, how to find the opening in an opponent's defense and how to dodge even the most vicious attacks.

Throughout most of the training match they don't talk to each other.

They hadn't spoken again after their heated argument yesterday and Tomas can tell Kuai Liang has no interest in picking up the topic that had caused their dispute once more. He also hadn't seen Kuai Liang during breakfast this morning. Usually, they would warm up with a friendly spar before the actual training starts, they would talk about upcoming missions or discuss the progress of their disciples, but this time it's different. It is obvious to him that Kuai Liang avoids him. Tomáš had planned to return to the fire temple today, but he knows there is no point in returning without the Arctikan Hailstone. He has no choice but to stay and convince Kuai Liang to help him if he wants to save their brother's life. Time is running out, he knows. If he can't get the Arctikan Hailstone soon–

His thoughts are interrupted when Kuai Liang's fist connects with his nose, sending sharp pain through his skull. Tears well up in his eyes. With a groan, Tomáš stumbles back. He shakes his head, blinking rapidly to clear his sight and get rid of the dizziness threatening to overwhelm him. It takes him a moment to regain his composure.

"You're not focused", Kuai Liang scolds him.

"At least one of us should care that our brother is dying."

"This again?"

"You still won't hear me out?"

"We're done talking about this matter."

"I don't think so."

They begin to round each other.

"I thought I had made my stance on it clear yesterday."

"It's still not too late to look for the stone, brother", Tomáš says almost pleadingly. "I know you're angry, but please reconsider."

Kuai Liang's expression only hardens further. "My choice is final."

"So is mine", Tomáš says firmly. "If you won't help me, I'll search for the stone myself."

"As your grandmaster, I forbid it."

"Forbid it? You can't do that."

"Yes, I can!" Kuai Liang snaps. When Tomáš only glares at him in response, he shakes his head with a sigh. "What happened to you, Tomáš? I thought you were on my side."

"I am on your side."

"Then let this go."

"I can't."

This time, it's Kuai Liang who initiates the first attack. Tomáš parries it effortlessly and manages to catch his brother in an armlock.

"Bi-Han is the reason father died", Kuai Liang grunts as he struggles to free himself from his grip. "How do you still dare to defend him? You and I both owe father our loyalty."

"I owe father my loyalty?" Tomáš twists his brother's arm slightly. "Did you know that his mistakes killed my family?"

Kuai Liang's eyes suddenly flash with anger. "Is that what Bi-Han told you? How can you say such awful things? Father would have never allowed innocent people to die! He took you in and this is how you honor his memory? You believe Bi-Han's lies?"

"Right", Tomáš hisses. "Father took me in. You and Bi-Han are always so eager to remind me of that. Do you think I asked for my family to be murdered, so I could be taken in by your clan?"

"What? No, brother, you know that's not what I–"

"Save it."

Tomáš pushes Kuai Liang back and steps off the mats. The room suddenly feels suffocating.

"Tomáš."

He ignores Kuai Liang's voice calling out to him. He needs to get out of here.

The confused faces of their recruits staring at him become a blur. Suddenly, he feels a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back and forcing him to turn around. His hands twitch.

Kuai Liang says something, but he cannot discern what it is.

He cannot hear his brother's voice over the Enenra's quiet laughter.

Not now. Not again.

Darkness seeps in from the corners of his vision, twisting the shape of Kuai Liang into a sinister silhoutte, distorted and hazy. Smoke coils around his fists. He can smell it, taste it. The Enenra whispers to him, a chorus of voices, both foreign and familiar. Two of them he recognizes. His mother and sister. The Enenra knows it found a weakness, it digs its claws into that scar and tears it open. Tomáš tries to fight it. The Shirai Ryu never use weapons during their sparring sessions, but he finds himself reaching for his hunting knife.

The angry frown disappears from Kuai Liang's face, instead replaced with a look of concern.

"Tomáš? Brother? What's wrong?"

His brother takes a step towards him. Tomáš backs away. He doesn't want to hurt Kuai Liang. "Stay back", he warns. "Don't come closer!"

Kuai Liang doesn't listen.

Tomáš attacks him. His karambit slashes through the air, inches away from Kuai Liang's chest. His brother's eyes widen as he stumbles back. The Enenra shrieks and forces him to attack again. His arm darts out to stab Kuai Liang, but in an instant, his brother's rope spear wraps around his wrist. Tomáš is pulled forward as Kuai Liang tugs on the rope. He uses the momentum to bring his knee up and kick Kuai Liang in the stomach. With a groan of pain, his grandmaster doubles over. Another slash of the knife. This time, he draws blood.

"What has gotten into you?" Kuai Liang clutches his bleeding arm.

He doesn't react, his eyes trained on the tip of his hunting knife pointing shakily at Kuai Liang's throat.

Your brothers think so little of you. Go ahead. Teach them to fear you.

With every fiber of his being he fights the urge to give in to the Enenra's voice.

Get out of my head!

All he hears is quiet, distant laughter.

He staggers back as if pushed by an invisible force. This time, he doesn't wait for another word from Kuai Liang. He turns around and flees the training room, running and running, through hallways and past startled Shirai Ryu recruits, until he's finally outside, breathing in the cool morning air. He takes a seat on the steps of one of their makeshift barracks and buries his face in his hands. No one else is here except for him. Good, Tomáš thinks to himself. That means he won't be able to attack anyone else.

To calm down, he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus on his breathing. Sometimes it works, other times it doesn't. Today, he gets lucky. Slowly, the Enenra's grip on him loosens, the dark fog in his mind disappears, allowing him to think clearly again. Regardless, he doesn't dare to return yet. He almost feels sick with guilt as he remembers that he injured Kuai Liang. Maybe he should go back to check on him, but he still doesn't fully trust himself.

"Tomáš?"

He jumps at the sound of the familiar voice behind him. How did Kuai Liang follow him here so quickly? He turns his head, brows furrowing as he spots the fresh cut on Kuai Liang's upper arm, crudely bandaged with a piece of cloth torn off a Shirai Ryu uniform.

"What happened to you back there?" His brother sits down next to him, his eyes full of concern.

All Tomáš can do is shake his head. How can he even begin to explain what happened? He should have never kept this from Kuai Liang in the first place. Would his brother be angry at him because he didn't say anything sooner? Or worse, would he be worried about him? Tomáš already feels like a stain on Kuai Liang's happiness. His brother had started a family of his own now, he shouldn't have to worry about him too. However, Tomáš doesn't want to lie to Kuai Liang. Sooner or later, his brother will find out about the Enenra anyway. At least, Kuai Liang can better protect himself and the Shirai Ryu if he knows what he's up against.

Tomáš takes a deep breath... and, step by step, he fills Kuai Liang in on everything. He tells him about the Enenra, about the nightmares he had been having as a boy and how those nightmares had returned after they had left the Lin Kuei. He even mentions how Bi-Han and the Lin Kuei's master of arcane had come up with a way to weaken the Enenra's influence on him and how the reason he easily loses control now is that he no longer has access to the potion he used to drink daily with his morning tea.

By the time he's done, Kuai Liang looks even more concerned than he did before.

"Why haven't you told me about this earlier? I could have helped. I could have-" His brother stops mid-sentence and shakes his head with a sigh. "I wish I had known."

"I was planning to tell you", Tomáš mumbles. "But you were so busy with your grandmaster duties, with the preparations for your wedding. Then the Lin Kuei attacked us and this whole mess with Havik happened. I didn't want to burden you with my own struggles."

Carefully, Kuai Liang lifts his injured arm to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. "You're my brother, Tomáš. You'd never be a burden to me."

It feels good to hear those words. Perhaps he needed to hear them, to know that Kuai Liang still cares, that they're still brothers. Slowly, Tomáš nods.

"I wanted to apologize", Kuai Liang says quietly. "I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you yesterday."

"It's okay. I want to apologize too." Tomáš offers a small smile. Then he nods towards Kuai Liang's injury. "How is your arm?"

"It's just a scratch. Don't worry about it." Kuai Liang sighs. "You should bring this up with Lord Liu Kang. He must be able to help you somehow."

Tomáš shakes his head. "No, I can't trouble him with that right now. He's already doing his best to heal Bi-Han. He needs to focus on that first."

Kuai Liang lets out a disgruntled huff. "He shouldn't bother."

Not this again.

"You shouldn't say that. And you should have searched for the stone, Kuai Liang", Tomáš says in a more serious tone. "This isn't only about Bi-Han. Can't you see that? If Bi-Han dies, Sektor will seek blame from Lord Liu Kang. She's going to demand answers and when she finds out that she lost Bi-Han because you refused to look for the stone, our clan and the Lin Kuei will be at war again. The peace in this timeline will be disrupted once more. You and I both know that the Shirai Ryu aren't strong enough to take on the Lin Kuei yet. Dozens of our recruits would be slaughtered in vain. You're gambling away their lives too, Kuai Liang.”

His brother sighs. It seems like he wants to disagree, but to his relief, he doesn't. Maybe he can get through to Kuai Liang this time.

"I'm not asking you to forgive Bi-Han", Tomáš explains. "I could never ask that of you. In fact, I don't know if I can ever fully forgive him myself. All I'm asking is that you help me save his life."

He can see Kuai Liang is fighting an inner battle, torn between wanting vengeance and doing what is expected of him. Perhaps, there's still a part of him that cares about Bi-Han, even if Tomas is beginning to doubt that more and more.

Finally, Kuai Liang opens his mouth to respond. "I-"

"Grandmaster!"

Tomáš turns around to see another Shirai Ryu warrior running up to them.

"You're required at the gates immediately", the man chokes out between heavy breaths. "We have... visitors."

Tomáš doesn't have the slightest clue who those visitors could be, but he can tell from this man's expression that they aren't allies or any welcomed guests. He gets up and anxiously follows Kuai Liang.

As they get to the gates, they are met with a group of Lin Kuei warriors waiting to be let in. Three of them in total, two men and a woman. At first glance, they appear unarmed.

Kuai Liang narrows his eyes in suspicion as he approaches them.

"State your business."

The woman steps forward and bows to greet them. "We are here on behalf of our grandmistress. Our intentions are peaceful."

"Like the last time you came here?", Kuai Liang growls.

"We should at least hear them out, brother." Tomáš can tell that Kuai Liang has no interest in doing so, but the Shirai Ryu and the Lin Kuei had been at peace with each other since Sektor took over the clan. She had earned the right to at least be heard out by them.

"We have come to deliver a gift. From the Lin Kuei's mage to the Shirai Ryu's mage." One of the two men holds out an ornate wooden box to them.

"What is this?", Kuai Liang asks.

"That information was not shared with us", the woman tells them. "We've only been told to deliver it here."

Kuai Liang glares at the box. "Whatever it is, take it back with you. We have no need for it."

Instead of retreating, the woman steps closer. "Our grandmistress already agreed to a truce between our clans. Do you mean to insult her?"

Tomáš recognizes the hint of a threat in her voice, so subtle he almost misses it.

"Tell us what's inside", Kuai Liang demands.

"I already told you. We do not know."

"Talk“, Kuai Liang hisses. "You'll regret it if you don't."

"Brother, they're just messengers", Tomáš attempts to diffuse the situation. "They might not know what's in the box."

"What if they're spies? Lin Kuei can't be trusted."

"Some of us can't be." The woman gives Kuai Liang a pointed look.

"What are you implying?" It's Kuai Liang's turn to take a threatening step towards her now. Suddenly, the air feels thick with tension.

"Kuai Liang, they've done nothing to offend us", Tomáš says calmly. "Our code of honor demands that we let them go."

"They set foot on Shirai Ryu ground." Kuai Liang crosses his arms. "That goes against the terms we agreed on."

"We were invited in", the woman says almost smugly.

Kuai Liang glares. "I don't remember inviting you in."

"Because I did."

Pushing her way past the other Shirai Ryu that had gathered outside, Harumi approaches the Lin Kuei messengers, putting herself between them and Kuai Liang. Behind her, Cyrax watches closely, seemingly just as wary of the Lin Kuei's intentions as Kuai Liang. She takes the wooden box out of the messenger's hands and studies it carefully.

"You're free to leave." Harumi waves her hand at the three Lin Kuei warriors and one of their recruits quickly leads them away.

Kuai Liang watches them walk away with a frown. "We just let them go?"

Harumi shrugs. "They have done no harm. Why should we keep them here?"

Glowering, Kuai Liang gestures towards the box. "We shouldn't have accepted this. Nothing good can come from people like Sektor."

"We'll know whether that's true or not in just a second", Cyrax chimes in.

Some kind of scanner on her armor beeps to life as she presses a button on her glove's control panel. Tomáš watches a pattern of green beams dance across the dark surface of the wood. Then the box is offered to him.

"My scan detected nothing unusual. It should be safe to open."

Tomáš takes the box and carefully lifts the lid, his eyes widening at the sight of what's inside of it.

A scroll. Handwritten notes. Messy sketches he cannot decipher.

Kuai Liang looks over his shoulder. "What is this?"

"I don't know." Tomáš picks up one of the notes and studies it briefly. "They look like... recipes." Then he takes out the scroll. It's surprisingly heavy, the paper ancient... He can't explain why, but he's almost certain he had seen it somewhere before.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut.

It's the same scroll he saw in the flashback Geras showed him... The one about the Enenra. But how would Sektor know about it? Only two people in the Lin Kuei were aware of the Enenra. Master Xiaoqing... and Bi-Han. Tomáš nearly drops the box as all the pieces in his mind finally fall into place.

-

By the time he returns to his quarters, the strength he had felt in the morning had already left him, instead replaced by a dull, throbbing ache residing deep within his bones. Liu Kang had to help him settle back into bed, which was by far the most unbearable part of it all. Bi-Han had always loathed needing help. To make matters worse, Liu Kang had come back a mere hour later to inform him that Tomáš had returned... and that Kuai Liang is with him. At first, Bi-Han is reluctant to speak to his brothers. He tells the fire god that he doesn't wish to see them. His anger had been dormant for so long, but at the very thought of seeing Kuai Liang again, it resurfaces, bringing back the bitter taste of betrayal. Were it for him, they would only see each other again in the Netherrealm.

Unfortunately, the decision is made for him.

There's a brief knock on the door that he ignores, then it swings open and Tomáš steps into the room with Kuai Liang trailing behind him.

For the first time since the battle against Havik, they are face to face with each other again. Reunited at last.

It had almost been two years.

"Bi-Han."

"Kuai Liang." He spits out his brother's name like a mouthful of venom.

His brother looks different, yet all the same, his forehead marked by frown lines, just like Bi-Han's own. Hatred had carved deep lines into his face, making him appear older despite being a few years younger than Bi-Han himself. Even Kuai Liang's posture mirrors his own now, upright and tense, shoulders raised to carry the burden of leading his own clan. If anything, those subtle changes only highlight the resemblence between them, making the features they share all the more obvious. The irony of it, Bi-Han thinks. The more Kuai Liang pretends to be different than him, better than him, honorable and just, the more he begins to become him. Despite his anger, Bi-Han can't help feeling guilty at the sight of the ugly red scar over Kuai Liang's right eye. It is only right that he is scarred now too, he knows. All his wrongdoings... Fate had returned them to him tenfold.

Bi-Han has nothing to say to his brothers.

Kuai Liang's betrayal is embedded in his very soul like a thorn. The last person he had expected to turn against him had been the man he shared blood with. To think that Kuai Liang, his brother who he had helped raise, had been willing to leave him to die...

The hatred in Kuai Liang's eyes burns just as bright as it did the last time they had seen each other, an inextinguishable fire he assumes only his death could appease. Bi-Han's own resentment grows stronger by the second. It infuriates him, to see his younger brother living his life, holding his title. Kuai Liang is grandmaster. Kuai Liang still has his pyromancy. Kuai Liang is married to the woman he loves, while Sektor and him had been forced apart, separated, most likely never to see each other again. Kuai Liang is respected by all, while his former allies deem him a traitor now. He clenches his fists so hard his knuckles crack.

"How are you, brother?"

Of course, it's Tomáš who asks. Not Kuai Liang. The concern in his voice only annoys Bi-Han more.

"That's irrelevant“, he growls. "Why did you bring him here?"

"I came to hear the truth from you", Kuai Liang responds. "I want you to tell me how father died."

"The truth?" Bi-Han scoffs. "I'll happily take it to the grave with me if it means you won't get what you want."

"Brother, please..." Tomáš rubs his forehead in frustration. "I brought Kuai Liang here, so the three of us can talk. So we can fix this. We're brothers. We shouldn't be fighting each other. This is your chance to make things right, Bi-Han."

He resists the urge to laugh. His chance to make things right? He doesn't remember doing anything wrong. He had only ever wanted what's best for his brothers, for their clan... They had abandoned him. He owes them nothing now.

"I don't need to justify myself to you."

"You're still as despicable as you've always been." Kuai Liang spits. "Give me one good reason why I should save you."

"You shouldn't", Bi-Han says coldly. "I don't want to be saved. Least of all by you. The Netherrealm will have us both one day, brother. Then you'll pay for your betrayal."

"My betrayal? None of this would have happened, had you not sold your soul to Shang Tsung!" Kuai Liang points an accusing finger at him. "You even betrayed your own father! How could you let him die?"

"I did what had to be done. And you should be grateful."

Kuai Liang tries to lunge at him, but Tomáš holds him back. He watches Kuai Liang struggle to free himself from Smoke's grip, his face red with fury.

"How could you, Bi-Han? Why did you let father die?"

"Because he killed mother!"

It's a relief, to finally say it out loud. For years, the truth had haunted him. It had festered in his heart like a disease, poisoning him, eating away at his soul. Now he's finally free of it. He has nothing left to lose, no one left to lie for. No reason to continue protecting his brothers from the harsh truth about the gruesome fate their parents had met.

Silence follows his confession. His brothers stare at him, wide-eyed, shock written across their faces.

"What?", Tomáš breathes.

"Liar!" Kuai Liang's face twitches. "You'd stop at nothing to get what you want! Father is gone because of you and you still speak ill of him?"

"It's true", Bi-Han insists. "Mother's death was his fault! She died because of father's failures! Because of his foolishness."

"What nonesense are you talking?" Kuai Liang snaps. "It wasn't father's fault. Mother was ill–"

"Her illness was a lie."

There is no point in keeping secrets anymore. He might as well tell them everything now.

"Mother was never sick", he continues. "Father wanted you to believe that, but she didn't die of some disease. She died on a mission, one that he sent her on."

Kuai Liang narrows his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Bi-Han doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he sits up slowly and tries to gather enough strength to speak. There is much he needs to say and he's not sure if he still has enough energy for it.

Finally, he clears his throat. "A week before our mother's death, father got word that the Tengu clan was preparing for an attack on the Lin Kuei. Our spies got caught and had to flee before they could learn more about our enemy's plans. Without the details, the information they brought back to us was useless. We needed someone else on the inside to gather the rest of the intel. However, infiltrating the Tengu was no longer an option. They had already become too wary of any new initiates. So father decided on a different strategy."

"What kind of strategy?"

Bi-Han ignores Kuai Liang's question. "Our clan was vulnerable back then. In previous years, we had lost many good warriors. An attack from our rival clan at that time would have been devastating. Mother knew how much depended on the success of that mission, so she volunteered to let herself get captured by the Tengu in order to get inside their fortress. The mission was simple. Retrieve the intel needed and get out unseen. An easy task for any Lin Kuei. She was supposed to return the same day, but... she never came back." He pauses briefly, clenching his fists in helpless rage as he relives the memories. His father's blank expression as he delivers the news to him... The emptiness he had felt deep within him, first disbelief, then anger... At father's lack of care. At how calm and indifferent he had looked, talking about her death... At himself for failing to prevent it... Emotion seeps into his voice, nearling making it tremble. "A few days later, the Tengu sent her dead body back to us. I don't know what they did to her. Father wouldn't let me see her. He told everyone she died of a sudden illness. Those who knew what happened were told to never speak of it again. He wouldn't even let me mourn her. A future grandmaster doesn't weep, he told me." Another pause, longer this time. He grits his teeth. "I was furious. I asked him why he let her go on such a dangerous mission, why he didn't send out anyone to rescue her. Do you know what his response was? He told me that he couldn't remember. He simply forgot to save her. I didn't believe him. Mother always opposed him. She hated how attached he was to tradition. She wanted our clan to prepare for the future. I was convinced that father left her to die on purpose. From that day on, I resented him. I assumed that he had just waited for an opportunity to get rid of mother... But then I found the records."

"What records?"

"Medical records. After what happened to mother, I was determined to get answers. In my grief, I was blind to it at first, but eventually I started to see the pattern. In the last six years of father's reign as grandmaster, there was an increasing number of incidents that shouldn't have happened. Civil casualties. Lin Kuei getting captured or even killed on missions because they were given wrong intel and impossible orders to follow. I didn't understand why, so I went through older reports of failed missions, dating all the way back to your family's death in Prague, Tomáš. Mission after mission gone wrong. I had suspected that father was getting senile for a while. He was old and his behavior was odd at times."

Looking back at it now, he feels like a fool for not understanding the signs sooner. Once a calm and level-headed man, his father had become easily irritable in the last years of his life, even developing a tendency to forget names and misplace things. Maybe if he had learned the truth sooner, his father wouldn't have had to die.

Bi-Han takes a deep breath before continuing. "Initially, I didn't think much of it, but... Attached to those mission reports I found were test results and some old prescriptions... For medication preventing cognitive decline. Father... was suffering from dementia."

He watches all the color drain from his brothers' faces.

"You monster!" Kuai Liang suddenly yells. The finger pointing at Bi-Han is shaking now. "Is that why you wanted him dead? Father was ill, so you thought you could replace him?"

"I never intended for him to die", Bi-Han responds calmly. "Father tried to keep his ailment a secret. That is why he took you in, Tomáš. He couldn't risk anyone finding out that he made a mistake. When I learned about it, I went to confront him. I urged him to step down for the sake of our clan. I worried that more people would die because of his mistakes. His stubbornness already cost mother's life. I... I worried that the two of you would be next. I tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen. He claimed he was still fit to lead the Lin Kuei. Because I talked back to him, he punished me to kneel on the frozen lake behind our fortress. I knelt there for hours. The weather got worse and I was about to return when I saw a shape through the fog. I chased after it, only to see that it was father. I don't know what made him walk out into that blizzard. Maybe he was confused. Maybe he was looking for something. Regardless, I followed him. I shouted at him to stop, to turn around and come back, but he ignored me. I watched him walk out onto the lake, further and further. Out there, the ice was thinner. I tried to warn him, but the storm was too loud. I suppose he couldn't hear me over the noise of the wind. Ahead, I saw the ice crack and break, then a voice screaming for help, I ran towards it as quickly as I could. When I got there, I saw that father had broken through the ice. I held out my hand towards him, but he... He didn't even recognize me. He was babbling and speaking nonsense. He..." Bi-Han swallows hard. He doesn't know why his eyes suddenly burn. Why his throat feels tight and his chest so heavy. "I understood that saving him was pointless then. He would have doomed us. I had to protect you. I had to protect our clan. I couldn't let any more Lin Kuei die."

His brothers don't speak and he can't bring himself to look at them. Maybe they resent him more now. He cannot hold it against them.

"If you wish for me to suffer before I die, then go ahead", Bi-Han says quietly. "I won't resist. But even if you torture me, you won't hear me say I regret what I did. Because of my decision, you and Tomas got to live."

He feels so much lighter now, the last of the weight on his shoulders gone. He doesn't care if his brothers forgive him, he doesn't need their forgiveness.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Kuai Liang's voice cracks. "All these years, you've kept us in the dark. You–"

"Now you know", Bi-Han cuts him off. "What good does it do you?"

Kuai Liang doesn't respond.

"I kept this from you because I meant to shield you from the truth." Bi-Han glares, his gaze boring into Kuai Liang's. "I hope it haunts you as it haunted me."

Slowly, his brother shakes his head. "No, you're lying... You never cared about protecting us. I don't believe a word out of your mouth!"

"He's telling the truth."

His brothers both turn around as Geras enters the room, followed by Liu Kang.

"I am willing to show it to you now", the construct says as he looks over at Kuai Liang.

"Show me what?"

"How your father died." Geras begins to shape a sphere of sand between his palms. "With your permission, Lord Liu Kang...“

The fire god nods.

A scene comes to life before them. A memory.

Bi-Han recognizes it.

A younger version of himself stands before the late grandmaster, eyes downcast and shoulders tense. The room is dimly lit by candleflames.

"You should retire, father", Bi-Han's voice sounds oddly loud in the quiet throne room. "You cannot continue leading the Lin Kuei like this."

His father glares at him. "And what would you know about leadership?"

"I know what you taught me", he replies. "A grandmaster should always act in the best interest of his clan. You have to step down. Let me lead the Lin Kuei."

His father descends the steps leading up to his throne, stops before him and with the back of his gloved hand, he strikes Bi-Han hard across the face.

Bi-Han watches his brothers flinch as he's slapped. Absentmindely, he reaches up to touch the small, barely visible scar above his upper lip, a permanent reminder of the very moment they're witnessing right now. He can feel his brothers' eyes on him, those stupid, sympathetic looks they're giving him... He averts his gaze. He doesn't want their pity.

His younger self shows no reaction to being hit. When he touches the corner of his mouth, his hand comes away red. Staring blankly at his father, he wipes the blood on his uniform.

"Ungrateful son!", the grandmaster growls. "You're looking to replace me! You just want the grandmaster title for yourself."

"I only worry for the Lin Kuei's future."

"It's not for you to worry about!" His father yells.

Bi-Han lowers his gaze. "My brothers' lives are."

"You dare to talk back? The clan always comes first", his father reprimands him. "And the Lin Kuei are still my clan. Were it for me, it would never be yours."

He clenches his fists at his sides, though his expression remains the same. A mask, unchanging and unmoving. No matter how hard he tries to pretend he's unaffected by his father's harsh words, they hurt regardless.

"It should have been Kuai Liang", the grandmaster mutters to himself. "He should have been my firstborn son. But what I want doesn't matter. We must follow tradition."

Bi-Han exhales slowly. "If you want Kuai Liang to be your heir so badly, why don't you send me to the Tengu clan to die as you did with mother? Then Kuai Liang would be your successor."

"Watch your mouth, Bi-Han", his father warns him. "I should have you beaten for your impudence. Your mother already failed. You would fair no better." The grandmaster shakes his head. "Perhaps I should send Kuai Liang. He's always been more capable than you."

"Kuai Liang?" Bi-Han's eyes widen. "You can't send him! He's too young. He's still inexperienced. You'd be sending him to his death!"

"Enough! I've made my decision." His father turns around, walks back up the steps and takes a seat in the grandmaster chair. "For your audacity today, go and kneel outside until the sun sets. Maybe that will cool your temper."

"But-"

"Not another word! Now leave."

Reluctantly, Bi-Han bows his head. "Yes, grandmaster."

The vision fades, but the pain it brought back lingers. To his father, he had never been good enough. No matter how hard he had trained, how many times he had pushed himself past his limits to become stronger, to become better, his father had never noticed, had never praised him for it. All his efforts had gone unseen.

Bi-Han glances over at Kuai Liang, finding a twisted sense of comfort in how devasted and guilty his brother looks now.

"Bi-Han, I- I didn't know...", Kuai Liang stammers. "I had no idea that-"

"Father always favored you", he says grimly. "He considered you special because of your pyromancy. He wanted you to succeed him, not me."

"You could have told me!" Kuai Liang complains. "Why did you never talk to me? We were brothers."

"You're right", Bi-Han responds. "We were."

Before his brother can answer, the sand rearranges itself into a new scene. A frozen landscape, vast and barren. Glaring white as far as the eye can see. Ice and snow. His home.

"Father! Come back!"

Bi-Han runs towards the familiar figure behind the veil of snow and mist, or at least he tries to, but the wind pushes him back with unwavering fury. His feet find no hold on the slippery surface of the frozen lake. The faster he moves, the more cracks he can see forming on the ice below him.

His father pushes forward through the storm.

In his memories, Bi-Han cannot recall hearing him say a word. But now, over the raging Arctikan winds, he can make out a single word. A name.

"Bi-Han."

His father had been looking for him...

He has no heartbeat anymore, but he knows his heart, once frozen and unfeeling, still functions because he feels it clench so painfully in his chest, he finds himself gasping for breath. His vision blurs, the scene in front of him becoming unclear and faded.

He hears the sickening sound of the ice cracking... Then the shouts for help...

Bi-Han stumbles and falls to his knees at the edge of the gaping hole in the lake's icy surface. "Father! Give me your hand!" He reaches out his arm for the old grandmaster to take, but his father doesn't take it. He's stammering and muttering things Bi-Han can't understand while helplessly flailing his arms.

His father had been such a proud man once. To see him like this... useless and confused... It pains Bi-Han. His father deserves better than this, a dignified end.

He thinks of his mother. He thinks of Kuai Liang. If his father lives... Kuai Liang might die... And once his father's disease reaches its final stages, his father will die too. He will have no one left.

He cannot save his father. He can pull him out of the ice, but he cannot save him. All he would do is prolong his suffering.

Slowly, Bi-Han retrieves his hand.

The struggle doesn't take long. Within seconds, his father's head disappears, swallowed by the freezing water. The horrible gurgling noises he will never forget, die down, leaving only the howling of the wind to fill the silence.

He's still kneeling on the ice, shaking with the effort of keeping himself upright. His legs have long gone numb.

His shoulders shake, then his whole body jerks forward, almost as if hit by a sudden seizure. Then, finally, he sobs. Quietly at first, then, understanding he is alone, he sobs louder, tears streaming down his face, turning to snowflakes carried off by the wind. With no one left to tell him he needs to be strong, he finally mourns both his parents. The one that was taken from him and the one he let go.

To save his clan. To protect his brothers. It's the first time he ever allowed himself to cry. And it's also the last.

At the sight of his own tears, he feels ashamed. He had never cried in front of his brothers. He's the eldest, he has to be strong for them, always.

Something wet lands on his cheek, then on his lower lip... It feels like rain, but it cannot be, they're inside. Shakily, Bi-Han reaches up to wipe at his face, his eyes widening as he realizes the droplets are tears.

"Brother..." Kuai Liang takes a step towards him. "What have you done?"

"I showed him mercy", he whispers.

"Death isn't mercy, Bi-Han."

"If you had gone through what I went through, you'd think differently now."

Satisfied, he watches Kuai Liang's face fall and his shoulders slump. "I don't understand... You cried. You were... Why?"

"What did you expect?", Bi-Han taunts him. "That I'd stand over father's dead body, laughing? That I'd be as pleased with myself as you were when you left me to die?“

"Wait...", Tomáš interjects. "What do you mean?"

"Tell him, Kuai Liang."

Tomáš slowly turns to face their brother. "Kuai Liang, what does he mean?"

Kuai Liang's eyes dart back and forth between Tomáš and him. He opens his mouth, but no words come out.

"When I was under the influence of Havik's mind control, he wanted to leave me behind in the chaosrealm", Bi-Han responds in his stead. "Were it not for Sektor, Cyrax and the others..."

The confusion in Smoke's eyes turns into fury. "Is this true?"

"I-"

"He let father die", Kuai Liang stammers helplessly. "He scarred me. He banished us. He tried to kill me on my wedding day. I was angry. Can you blame me for that?"

"Two wrongs don't make a right. Even now, instead of apologizing, you try to justify it?" Tomáš shakes his head in disgust. "I left the Lin Kuei because I didn't want to follow a madman. Turns out, I was following one all along."

Bi-Han watches his brothers argue, but he feels nothing anymore. No triumph that Tomáš finally sees through Kuai Liang's facade. No anger at their betrayal. Only regret and an exhaustion so deep it almost physically hurts.

"Leave", he commands. "All of you. Get out!"

He gives that order as though he still has any authority, as though he is still grandmaster of his clan, not a hollow shell of who he once was. He doubts they will listen to him, but he can't even find it in himself to be angry about that anymore. He had been bedridden for weeks, Liu Kang's treatment draining him of every ounce of strength his body had possessed. The fire god had been careful, his healing magic probing around within the very depths of his being, trying to find the seams where his soul is still tethered to the chaos magic, separating them one by one, testing out the waters to see just how far he could go without killing him. It's humiliating, to be reduced to this, a mere lab rat for Liu Kang. Something broken that needs fixing. He's relieved that it's almost over.

Liu Kang and Geras don't oppose him. They retreat quietly, probably understanding that their work here is done. His brothers, however, show no intention of leaving.

"Brother, please." Kuai Liang takes another step towards him, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

Bi-Han slaps his hand away and shoots him a glare. "I said, leave."

He notices that Kuai Liang no longer looks at him with the same hatred. In fact, his brother almost looks... remorseful. How long had he waited to see this expression on Kuai Liang's face? To know that his brother regrets leaving him to die? That he still cares about him, despite the animosity between them... And yet it means nothing to Bi-Han now.

"I will find the Arctikan Hailstone", Kuai Liang says flalty. "I won't let you die."

Bi-Han says nothing in return.

"I'll come with you", Tomáš decides. "Someone has to make sure you keep your word this time."

Kuai Liang shakes his head. "Stay here with Bi-Han. I promise, I will bring the stone back. I will-"

"GET OUT!"

Bi-Han grabs the empty bowl of medicine next to his bed and hurls it at the wall. The porcelain shatters into hundreds of tiny pieces like a mocking image of his own existence.

-

"Impossible." Bi-Han grumbles as he tosses his hand of cards onto the table, reluctantly admitting defeat. "You won again."

Across from him, Tomáš grins. "I must be a natural at card games."

"That's highly unlikely."

"Are you saying I cheated?"

Bi-Han merely shrugs, leaving his question unanswered. He leans back to cough into the crook of his arm, frowning at the sight of the black spatters of blood dotting his skin. He quickly wipes them away before Tomáš can see them. His condition is worsening.

Three days had passed since he had revealed the truth to his brothers. Kuai Liang had left the same day to embark on a search for the Arctikan Hailstone. To save him, despite everything. Bi-Han still doesn't know how to feel about that. He's glad that Tomáš had stayed here with him. They had spent these past few days bonding, talking to each other and taking turns defeating each other at card games. Something inside both of them is healing now, he can tell.

"I wanted to thank you", Tomáš says after a while.

Bi-Han raises an eyebrow. "What for?"

"The scroll. I know you had Sektor send it to us." Tomáš smiles. "Our mage was able to recreate the potion. I've been taking it daily and I haven't had any nightmares since. So... Thank you. For looking out for me."

"If you mean to thank me, stop rigging the cards."

"Seriously, Bi-Han?" Tomáš grimaces, pretending to be offended. "I've done no such-"

"Bi-Han?"

At the mention of his name, he looks up to find Sareena standing over their table at the temple's library. She's hugging a small stack of books to her chest with one arm while extending the other one towards him with an envelope. "You have mail. Liu Kang asked me to give this to you."

A letter? Bi-Han immediately thinks of Sektor. Perhaps she had written back to him to let him know she did as he asked.

He takes the envelope out of Sareena's hand and frowns to see his name written on it in a handwriting he had never seen before. A little hesitantly, he opens it to take a look inside.

Before he can reach in to pull the letter out, something falls out of the envelope and lands at his feet.

At first, he believes it to be a piece of parchment, covered in blood.

Then he bends down to pick it up and recognizes a familiar motive drawn onto it.

A scorpion.

Not drawn. Tattooed.

It's not parchment. It's skin.

And branded into it is the shape of a bird's foot... The symbol of the Tengu clan.

Were he not dead, his heart would stop in that very moment.

"Kuai Liang!"

[acescorazon]

Changes

Title: The art of...flirting?

Chapter: 23

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, Dialogue Heavy.

Word Count: 6541

Chapter Excerpt:

“You try too damn hard,” Buggy mutters under his breath. He’s not actually complaining or anything, though. If anything, he’s just stating the truth. He doesn’t think he’s ever had anyone try this hard to get on his good side before. Hell, even his own men don’t try this hard to win him over.

“Am I bothering you or making you feel uncomfortable?” Mihawk asks, “If so, I apologize. I just haven’t had feelings for someone in a long, long time.” He admits, “I’m nervous and I just…” he chuckles quietly. He's nervous? No, that can't be true. Mihawk doesn’t get nervous. “I just really want you to return my feelings, but I’m worried that our disastrous past will prevent you from ever liking me back,” He squeezes Buggy’s hand softly, “I’m completely lost here, Buggy. I don’t know how to redeem myself and make myself more likable. If i’m bothering you in anyway, though, just tell me and i’ll back off. I swear.”

…

…

It takes Buggy a moment to respond, but he eventually squeezes Mihawk’s hand back, “...You’re not bothering me.” he whispers quietly. Part of him hopes Mihawk won’t hear him, but the moment he sees Mihawk smile softly and look down at their hands, he knows he got his hopes up for nothing. God, what am I doing? He finds himself wondering yet again. 

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Buggy passes the hell out not long after he returns to his room. When he wakes up, it's almost dinner time, and he's surprised that he’s slept all day. He sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes, before he glances over at the clock at his bedside. It’s 5:45 PM, and Buggy can’t help but wonder why his crew or even Mihawk and Crocodile let him sleep for so long. When was the last time he got the chance to sleep the day away like this? It’s been a while, hasn’t it? And in theory, he should feel refreshed after what? 10 or 11 hours of sleep? Instead, there's a dull ache in his skull, and he has the urge to lie back down. He doesn't allow himself to rest any longer, though, he has a ship to run.

As Buggy dresses himself, thoughts of Mihawk briefly enter his mind. Why can’t he get that man out of his damn head? He’s always thinking about Mihawk for one reason or another and he hates himself for it. Before Mihawk and Crocodile came into his life, most of Buggy’s thoughts were related to the mundane aspects of his daily life – He often wondered how he would run his island, how he would get more recruits and make more money, or how he would make the most of his power as a warlord. Of course, Buggy’s past would also come back to haunt his thoughts more often than not and he would think about his old crew a lot and his good for nothing best friend, but he doesn’t think there was ever a time when he couldn’t pull himself out of his own thoughts. That all changed after the formation of Cross Guild, though. 

Buggy thinks back to earlier in the morning when he and Mihawk held each other so… tenderly. He hates to admit it, but that’s exactly what they did. They didn’t have a simple, fleeting hug, they held each other in a tight embrace that meant a lot more than either of them let on. It was too warm, too secure, and way too intimate for them, or it should have been. Buggy should have hated that hug, he should have been repulsed by the mere idea of hugging someone who has caused him so much pain and suffering, he shouldn’t have agreed to it in the first place, really, but… 

Something major has changed whether Buggy admits it or not.  

Buggy can still remember how Mihawk's body felt pressed against his. In fact, it’s almost like his stupid brain has the shape and feel of Mihawk’s body memorized after that one dumb hug. Mihawk is almost all muscle. His shoulders and back in particular are firm and broad, but Buggy would be a liar if he said he wasn’t secretly a sucker for broad shoulders. That god awful, red-headed best friend of his has some of the broadest shoulders that Buggy’s ever seen on a man, and he would also be lying if he said that there wasn't a point in his life when he was obsessed with Shanks' body and more meaty, well built body types in general. 

Mihawk is slightly smaller than Shanks, and he’s not as meaty, but he’s… Nevermind it doesn’t matter. Buggy shouldn’t be thinking about Shanks and he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about Mihawk, not like that, at least. He will admit, though, that Mihawk’s chest is comfortable. It’s kind of like a brand new pillow - firm yet still comfortable enough to lie his head on. His grip is also insanely tight and secure, too. 

Buggy truly thinks he’s gone too long without being touched because he practically melted in Mihawk’s arms the moment he grabbed his waist. Good lord that hug was snug, but it felt so good. Buggy…Buggy has this thing… He thinks it’s because he’s spent his life living dangerously, but he’s not sure. Anyways, a good, secure hug always does numbers on him. Maybe he just wants to feel safe and protected for once. Being the captain or even the leader of Cross Guild means he’s supposed to be the strong one who protects everyone and gives them the support and encouragement they need, but sometimes he just wants to be the one who's being taken care of. He wants to be the one who feels loved and protected.

But Buggy doesn’t want to think about all that. He doesn't want to think about how long their embrace lasted, or how he felt during it, or even how he let Mihawk pull him in for a second deep embrace. If he thinks too much about it, he might go nuts.

The fact that Mihawk and Buggy were able to hug so tenderly without anything feeling awkward or forced is surreal. It shouldn’t have happened, not in this lifetime at least. Buggy supposedly hates Mihawk, and Mihawk isn’t the affectionate type, so why were they hugging like that? Why did it seem like Mihawk’s been waiting for the day that Buggy would let him hug him? He grabbed him as soon as he was close enough, like he’s been dying to finally get his hands on him and then he hugged him and didn’t want to let go. God, Buggy needs to move on, it was just a hug. 

It was just a stupid, unnecessarily long hug, that’s all. He’s putting way too much thought into this. 

Why am I still thinking about it? Buggy wonders as he puts a shirt over his head. Just get over it already... He tells himself, despite knowing that he's never been the type to 'just get over' things. He has to get over this, though, he can't allow thoughts like these to constantly enter his mind. He can’t allow himself to constantly think about Mihawk, it’s…weird. 

With a sigh, Buggy finally leaves his room and heads out to check on his men and their ship. Much to his surprise, everything seems to be peaceful. It's almost as if the attack from the sea king last night never happened. The blood and tentacles are no longer on the front deck, and if there were any minor damages from the attack, his men made sure to fix them before Buggy woke up. That lingering sense of dread is long gone too, and Buggy's men happily make their way around the ship, either tending to their duties or chatting to each other happily. Buggy almost wonders if he dreamt the entire sea king attack until one of his men informs him that the ship has already made a slight change in its route and that they're now heading to a nearby island, just like Crocodile and Mihawk said they would.

At some point, after he's checked on his men and been brought up to date, Buggy spots his fellow leading members of Cross Guild. They seem to be in the middle of a casual conversation, one without any bickering or snide remarks. So even these two know how to enjoy a peaceful evening, huh? As Buggy has that thought, the ever perceptive Mihawk seems to notice he's watching them and glances over in his direction before silently beckoning him over to him and Crocodile.

Buggy hesitates for a moment before he makes his way over to the other two men. The art of having a casual conversation with Mihawk and Crocodile is still something he struggles with, but they seem to have the same issue. They greet each other and then there's a long, dreadful pause before Mihawk speaks up, "I take it that you're well rested now?" He asks. More or less, Buggy thinks as he gives Mihawk a quick nod in response. "Good. And I suspect that your men have already informed you that we will be going through with our plans and will be stopping at a nearby island." Buggy nods again.

"I still don't think we need to make any stops. The ship's fine, and so is the crew..." Crocodile mutters under his breath, "It's a pointless excursion if you ask me."

"Good thing nobody asked you." Mihawk replies. He seems to ignore the nasty look Crocodile gives him and continues telling Buggy about their plans: "We'll head to the nearest island and stay a couple of days. It'll be good for the mens' psyche after such a major attack took place. There we can restock, even though I doubt we'll need to do that, and we can also assess the ship for further damage." Mihawk makes a lot of sense and Buggy agrees with him completely, but Crocodile… Well, Crocodile never agrees with anyone but himself: 

"For fuck’s sake, the attack from the sea king wasn't that bad. You're just being dramatic, Hawkeye."

"No, I'm being the logical one, as always."

There they go again, Buggy thinks as he stands there, listening to Mihawk and Crocodile start to bicker again. The peaceful atmosphere on the ship was nice while it lasted, even though Buggy only got to experience it for about ten minutes at most. He looks out at the vast and open sea, taking in the breathtaking view of the sun setting over the horizon. Watching the sunset was always one of his favorite things to do as a child on the Oro Jackson. He doesn't do it much as an adult, but whenever he does, a sense of nostalgia always washes over him. Sometimes said nostalgia makes him sad, sometimes it comforts him like a warm embrace, today the latter seems to be the case, though. He allows himself to enjoy the scenery and stares up at the overcast skies that are painted in various shades of red and orange, but only for a moment, before he turns his attention back to Mihawk and Crocodile.

"Personally…I don't mind stopping at a nearby island," Buggy says slowly, with the goal of remaining a neutral party to avoid any arguments (mainly with Crocodile.) "It'll give us a chance to reevaluate our plans for this trip and finalize them. We can sit down and factor in things we might not have thought of before... like another sea king attack or unstable weather conditions, that way we're better prepared and won't have to stop again." He adds, hoping to pacify Crocodile so he'll finally shut up about their detour. "It won't be a pointless excursion, it'll be...a regrouping session."

"Whatever," Crocodile huffs, "This little detour better not set us back, or I'll be pissed."

"It won't." Mihawk assures him, "But if we do happen to face any setbacks, I'll take full responsibility for them."

“Yeah, you fuckin' better."

Buggy fights off the urge to roll his eyes at Crocodile's snarky reply. Well, at least one of their problems has finally been solved. They manage to put their little argument to rest right before they're told dinner is ready, and Buggy couldn’t be more grateful. As soon as he hears what's on the menu -- Some steak (and roasted vegetables that he couldn't care less about) -- he suddenly remembers that he hasn't eaten all day and takes off. Buggy has been dreaming about eating steak for weeks, and it looks like they’re finally having something other than seafood for once. He’s guessing it’s because they went through such a stressful night last night and this is supposed to be a treat, but even if that’s not the case, Buggy won’t complain.

Buggy ditches Mihawk and Crocodile the moment he hears the food is ready. He's the captain of the ship, and if anyone's guaranteed a plate of food, it's him, but there's always been a voice in the back of his head that tells him that if he isn't one of the first people in line to get food, then he just won't eat. Maybe that's just part of his trauma from being at sea his entire life talking again, though. In any case, Buggy gets his steak (and his vegetables) and has a seat in the dining room, where a few of his men are already sitting and enjoying their own meals.

He makes some casual chit-chat with his crew and listens to various members ramble about their day and tell some stories before he shares a few short stories of his own with them. Dinner time was always a big deal on the Oro Jackson, so naturally it’s the same when it comes to any ship Buggy’s the captain of. He loves feeling like a real family and having dinner with his children, if that wasn’t obvious already. Is it partially because it gives him the chance to brag and to tell a bunch of (fake) stories about himself and his past?! Maybe, but it’s really nobody’s business. 

“Say, did I ever tell you kids about the time I took on all seven of the orginal seven war lords?!” Buggy asks the small group of pirates surrounding him. “It was an intense seven versus one battle, and I didn’t even have Cabaji or Mohji to back me up!” 

The men surrounding him all give him a look of disbelief, as they rightfully should. There’s a brief pause in their chatter before things quickly become lively again. “No, you never told us that story, Captain!” One of the men replies. 

“Tell us about it, Captain!” Exclaims another. 

“Woah, you fought them without any backup at all? Chairmen, you’re too cool!” Praises a third member of the crew. 

Buggy grins at their responses, “You kids know me. Your captain Buggy is nothing but an honest man, So I won’t lie and say the battle was over quickly. In reality, it was a little difficult, even for someone of my caliber.” he pretends to think about this supposed battle he had with the seven original warlords. “Hm, out of all of them, I think Doflamingo was the toughest. No, it was Kuma. No, no it was…”

Just as Buggy’s about to finish his sentence, the door to the dining room swings open. First Crocodile comes in and then Mihawk follows closely behind him. The sight of them causes Buggy’s words to dry up in his mouth. “On second thought, I’ll tell you guys the rest of the story later. It really is a long one and I don’t think I could tell you it over dinner.”

Naturally his children look disappointed and begin to complain: “Aw, but we want to hear the story!” 

“Yeah, tell us about your fight against the seven warlords anyways, Captain! We’ll sit here all night if we have to!”

Buggy chuckles nervously, mainly because Crocodile’s staring him down now, “No, I'd rather tell you about the time I… I had a friendly dispute with Red-Haired Shanks and fought him for twelve days and twelve nights!”

One of the crew members gasps, “Twelve days and twelve nights?!” That’s what he said, isn’t it? Of course, it’s all bullshit regardless of what story he tells, though. Buggy does have some real harrowing tales of his own that he could tell, but he doesn’t like the emotions associated with some of said tales. He doesn’t like to admit that his past is filled with tragedy, defeat, and endless hardships. In fact, everything that’s ever happened to Buggy in his life was either dumb luck or bad luck, and there’s been no in between.

As Buggy tells this new fictional story, he somehow winds up sitting in the middle of Mihawk and Crocodile. He doesn’t understand why they have to sit right beside him when there are plenty of other free seats at the dining table. He tries not to think about it, though. After all, they are shipmates... or something like that, and Mihawk and Crocodile are the closest with Buggy, so their choice of seats makes sense in a way. The other two don't really socialize like the rest of the crew do, they only offer curt replies and grunts in response to most things said to them or asked. Nobody seems to really mind it, though, and the atmosphere somehow continues to be light-hearted and fun despite their presence.  

Buggy's not like Crocodile and Mihawk (obviously), he rambles endlessly to his crew as he eats because they never get tired of listening to him. Even if he sometimes retells the same story or gets caught telling a small white lie, his crew never bothers to correct him, so he never shuts up. “And that’s when Red-Haired Shanks threw his sword down on the ground and finally surrendered!” Buggy tells his men. They seem amazed, but Mihawk obviously doesn’t feel the same way. He snorts and mutters something under his breath, but thankfully Buggy can’t hear him, so it doesn’t matter anyways.

Funnily enough, Buggy doesn’t seem to mind that Crocodile and Mihawk are around. In fact, he forgets they’re even in the same room as him from time to time until one of them scoffs quietly after he says something unbelievable. Every now and again, though, he does catch one of them looking at him. Mihawk in particular, often stares at him with a blank expression on his face, whilst Crocodile looks just plain agitated with him whenever he looks at him. Buggy would assume that they’re angry or annoyed with him, but they never say anything. They don’t tell him to shut up, or really react, they just give him the same unreadable reactions over and over again. Surely if they were actually bothered by anything he’s saying or doing, they’d say something. So, after a while, Buggy realizes they’re not angry, just mean looking. (Well, he knew that before, but still.)

Much to Buggy’s dismay, his steak is gone within no time. He didn't even get to savor it really, he just inhaled his food without thinking, and now he’s poking at some potatoes that look rather unappetizing, well, less appetizing than a steak does. He glances over to his side and takes note of how Mihawk has barely touched his own entrée. Perhaps Buggy should have saved the best for last, like Mihawk did, but he was dying to sink his teeth into something that wasn’t fish, sea king, or crab for once. All of a sudden, Mihawk looks over at him again and locks eyes with him, "Here." He simply says before he cuts his steak and gives Buggy half of it without waiting for him to give a proper response.

“You don’t have t-...” Buggy tries to stop Mihawk from sharing his steak with him, but it’s too late. Less than a second later, it’s sitting in the middle of Buggy’s plate, and he stares at it. “Thank you.” He mutters, feeling slightly defeated yet grateful. So, the world’s strongest swordsman is good at sharing, who would have known?

“Mhm,” Mihawk replies in a quiet voice, “There’s no need to thank me…”

A sharp click of the tongue comes from Buggy’s right all of a sudden. “You starving or something?” Crocodile asks, glancing over at Buggy as well. 

“What? N–” Buggy tries to reply again, but before he can, there’s already a second piece of steak on his plate courtesy of Crocodile. Why are they like this…? “... Thank you.” he says yet again, and he receives a grunt from Crocodile in response:

“Tasted cheap anyways.” 

Of course, he would say something like that. Buggy thinks as he heaves a small sigh and continues his meal. This time he eats a little slower, and actually enjoys the juicy steak and all its rich flavors. It most definitely does not taste cheap in Buggy’s opinion, but what does he know? He’s not loaded like Crocodile is.

Dinner is fantastic and for dessert they have some chocolate cake. It’s nothing special, but when you’ve been eating the same crap for a while, anything slightly different from the norm tastes like heaven. Buggy was starting to feel full by the time dessert rolled around, but how could he ever pass up a piece of cake, especially when he doesn’t really get the chance to eat sweet things? 

Buggy groans softly when that first bite of chocolate cake enters his mouth. It tastes so rich and chocolatey, and– Mihawk glances over at Buggy, and watches him eat for a moment before he proceeds to slide his entire plate of cake over to him. “Eat it. I don’t like sweets.” He tells Buggy. Then why’d you take it in the first place? Buggy thinks, confused as hell. Why the hell would Buggy want his cake? He has his own, and Mihawk literally just saw him eat a huge meal. 

Buggy’s just about to tell Mihawk that he doesn’t want his food when Crocodile clicks his tongue, “Take mine too. Chocolate gives me heartburn, and I don’t like that shit.” Are they serious right now? What’s Buggy going to do with three pieces of fucking cake?! 

Buggy sighs, “Look, guys, I–...”

“Eat it.” Mihawk and Crocodile order at the same time, and Buggy… Well, Buggy listens to them obediently, just like he usually does. His original slice of cake is delicious and goes down smoothly, but halfway through the second slice of cake, he starts to wonder if he’s involved in some sort of cruel and unusual punishment. In the end, he doesn’t finish all of the cake given to him but Mihawk and Crocodile don’t seem to mind, and it makes Buggy wonder what this was all for.

… 

After dinner, the crew gathers around on the front deck and tries to figure out who will watch over the ship while everyone else sleeps tonight. Since Buggy is the most rested member of the crew, he volunteers for night patrol. He expects a few of his men to volunteer to join him or even take his place, but Mihawk beats them to the punch: “I’ll join you.” He simply states, “I don’t sleep well during the night anyways.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Buggy mutters quietly. Why is it that every time Buggy volunteers for something, Mihawk immediately follows suit? “It shouldn’t be too much trouble to keep guard on my own.” He gives a generic excuse, but truth be told, he’s not sure if he’s ready to be all alone with Mihawk again, especially for an entire night. He can’t tell him that, though. 

Mihawk puts up his hand, “It’s fine, I don’t mind helping out. Besides, there’s no such thing as being too cautious, especially after last night. It’s better to have an extra set of eyes around just in case something goes amiss like last night.” His argument makes sense, but Buggy can’t help but think Mihawk’s not being completely honest. Does he really want to just help Buggy look after the ship, or does he just want to be alone with him for around 8 or 9 hours? Actually, he doesn’t think he wants the answer to that. 

Buggy’s suddenly brought out of his thoughts when he hears Crocodile snort loudly, “You know, I was going to volunteer to keep watch with you, but Hawkeye beat me to the punch,” he complains with a scoff.

Mihawk heaves a sigh, “If you want to join us, I won’t stop you.”

“Oh, please. We both know you want him all to yourself.”

Buggy blinks once, twice, thrice. There was a lot to unpack from that small conversation alone, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to try to figure out the meanings behind their words. Nope. Instead he turns around and leaves while Crocodile and Mihawk start bickering with each other.  He starts saying goodnight to the rest of the crew, turns off any lights that the others accidentally left on, and makes sure they’re still on the right course before settling down for the night. 

Earlier in the day, one of his men had informed him that the island they’re heading to is about two days away. Mihawk picked their destination, and It’s supposed to be an island with a tropical climate that’s west of where they are right now. Buggy forgets the name of it, though, but thinks it’s something related to plants or nature. They’ll go there and then rest for a couple of days before following their original plans and going to Prickly Pear. Maybe Buggy will finally get the chance to relax and clear his mind during their little detour. God knows he would love to get Mihawk off his mind finally. 

Buggy’s sitting on a large wooden crate not too far from the ship’s helm when he suddenly hears soft footsteps approaching him. Speak of the devil, he thinks as Mihawk comes into view. He’s all alone, though, and Buggy can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “What happened with Crocodile?” He asks when his curiosity gets the best of him. 

“I ended up asking him to go to bed,” Mihawk casually replies as he has a seat on a crate that’s next to the one Buggy’s on. That reply makes Buggy even more curious. He knows he shouldn’t ask for Mihawk to elaborate but he ends up doing it anyways. 

“Why’d you do that?” Buggy asks - like he doesn’t already know. 

Mihawk is silent for a moment before he shrugs, “I didn’t feel like arguing with him all night.” He replies, which isn’t quite the response Buggy was expecting to hear. “Plus, he was right, I did want you all to myself.” 

Buggy almost chokes on his spit after the second part of Mihawk’s reply. “I didn’t think that the world’s strongest swordsman would be such a shameless flirt.” he mutters, looking away. Words can’t describe how irritating he finds it every time Mihawk’s words catch him off guard and make him feel all flustered. 

“A shameless flirt?” Mihawk repeats, sounding slightly amused. “I wouldn’t say I’m a shameless flirt by any means. I just don’t hold back when it comes to my feelings for you.” He can say that again. “Should I try and tone things down, though?”

“Oh, why are you even asking me something as stupid as that?” Buggy grumbles under his breath, “I don’t care what you do, okay? You could flirt with me until the end of time, and it wouldn’t make any difference!” 

“What a shame.” Mihawk sighs, “And here I thought maybe I was finally making some progress with you.” Ha, yeah, right! Buggy still feels the same way he felt about Mihawk as before. That hug earlier was a fluke and nothing more… Mihawk leans back, stretching his long legs out and getting more comfortable on the crate he’s sitting on, “Well, in any case, I’m just glad that we’re on speaking terms. I won’t ask for too much.” 

Buggy doesn’t have a reply for that. He doesn’t have a reply for, like, half of the things Mihawk says, actually. He’s come to realize that Mihawk’s ridiculously sweet and selfless at times, and he doesn’t know what to do with that information. He’s used to the aloof Mihawk that doesn’t try to talk to him and often insults him, not the sweet, regretful Mihawk who finds little excuses to be around him and converses with him at every opportunity. 

“Dinner was nice tonight.” Mihawk suddenly says, pulling Buggy out of his thoughts. It was nice, minus the part where Mihawk and Crocodile kept insisting he take their food. Ugh, Buggy still feels a little bloated and it’s been a whole two hours since dinner. “But what was that story you were about to tell the crew? The one about you facing the seven warlords all by yourself?” 

Buggy’s eyes widen to a comical degree. “What? What are you talking about? Me? Fighting the seven warlords on my own?! That didn't happen.” he says quickly, waving his hand dismissively. “I was one of you guys, remember? Why would I fight the other warlords?” 

“No, you definitely told the rest of the crew that you fought the other warlords on your own,” Mihawk insists, “I don’t remember this happening, though. Perhaps you knocked me senseless during battle?” 

Buggy covers his face with one of his hands. God, why did they have to walk into the dining room at that exact moment? He goes quiet for a long moment, unsure how to explain himself. “Did you beat me too?” Mihawk asks, and his soft voice takes on a playful edge to it. Well, at least he isn’t mad about Buggy’s story time.

“Yeah, yeah. I beat you.” Buggy mutters, still feeling painfully embarrassed by his own white lie. 

“Oh, Congratulations,” Mihawk tells Buggy, sounding a little impressed. “And here I thought I’ve gone undefeated in battle for over two decades now, If only I knew the truth.”

Buggy whines softly, “Please, don’t be mad. I just say shit sometimes, okay?” He says, trying to explain himself a little. He… He’s a chronic liar, a show-off, and a big mouth!  

“Oh, I know.” 

Oh, thank G– Wait, what does he mean ‘I know’? Buggy side eyes Mihawk for that little comment, but he doesn’t try to start an argument with him or anything (not that he would win anyways.) “If I really wanted to, I could probably defeat all of you, though.” 

Mihawk stares at Buggy wordlessly, “...” he turns his head away a moment later, and Buggy feels his eye twitching. What was that look supposed to mean?! Huh, is he saying Buggy couldn’t beat him? (he couldn’t). Is he saying Buggy is weak? Buggy is so tired of people looking down on him, an— 

“I’’m glad you’re finally acting normal again.” Mihawk suddenly says, and the words catch Buggy completely off guard. “You were awfully pitiful for a while there.” Yeah? Well, whose fault was that?! “I don’t like seeing you look down, but… I don’t know how to comfort people.” 

They stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment before Buggy replies in a soft voice, “I wasn’t feeling down. But, if I were, why would I want you to comfort me?” he asks, scoffing.

Mihawk shrugs, “You have a point. I haven’t been good to you in the past. You probably still see me in a negative light, right?” He exhales a quiet breath, “In the future, though…If you’re sad and need someone to comfort you, I hope you’ll come to me first.” he reaches over, and before Buggy can even process what’s happening or being said to him, Mihawk puts his hand on top of his. “I’m not good at comforting people, but I’ll try my best to ease your worries.”

Buggy shuts down completely. He can’t speak, he can’t think, all he can do is stare at Mihawk. He spends an unreasonable amount of time searching those golden eyes of Mihawk’s for any signs of deception. Mihawk’s face and expression looks so soft underneath the warm glow of the ship's lights, though, and he looks like he's being honest. Does he really mean it…? Buggy wonders one last time before he finally accepts Mihawk's words as the truth.

God, he means it. 

Buggy swallows down a thick wad of spit, “Ha! Nothing can bring me down,” He says at long last, lying through his teeth yet again, “But… I’ll keep what you said in mind,” He adds quietly before he looks up at the dark, starless sky. He searches for something to keep his mind off of Mihawk as well as the weight of his hand on top of his. There are no stars, no moon, hell, there’s not even a single cloud in the sky to look at.

With nothing else to focus on, Buggy’s thoughts bounce around chaotically. He suddenly realizes that Mihawk’s moved a little closer and that he smells incredible. Whatever cologne Mihawk is wearing smells warm and earthy, and kind of expensive too. Has he always smelled this good? Buggy shakes the question out of his head, and his attention soon turns to the fact that his heart is thrumming in his chest. He doesn’t want to think about how his body is reacting to Mihawk right now, though, so he forces himself to try to listen to Mihawk as he begins chatting to him again, but then he realizes that Mihawk’s talking to him more and more these days. Not only is he talking to Buggy more and more these days, but his voice is always so soft when he speaks to him, and the words he says are often thoughtful and earnest. 

Several words are exchanged, and conversations flow easier than ever before between the two. It’s then that Buggy realizes just how much effort Mihawk is putting into trying to talk to him, so… so he returns that energy. The two discuss their future plans some more, talk about Buggy’s men, and even exchange some stories with each other. Normally, Buggy would tell a story that makes him look good, that story could be real or fake, but it would most definitely make him seem like a great and mighty pirate. He decides to just tell small little tales from his time on the Oro Jackson instead, stuff that he’s always found funny. He doesn’t expect Mihawk to find his stories humorous or even interesting, but on more than one occasion, Buggy catches Mihawk leaning in closer, listening to him intently and even chuckling at some of the things Buggy says.

As they speak, Buggy also notes how every once in a while Mihawk will look down at his painted lips for about three or four seconds before he quickly looks back up at Buggy’s eyes. Buggy tries to ignore it, but it’s hard when Mihawk stares so shamelessly at him. Whenever he notices him doing it, he always short circuits, unsure what to do. In fact the next time it happens, he loses his whole train of thought. 

He’s in the middle of telling Mihawk another story when Mihawk’s gaze suddenly drops down to his lips again. It’s like the third time he's done that, but who’s counting? Once again, Buggy’s mind goes blank, and he can’t help but look down at Mihawk’s mouth in return. It was for, like, less than a second, though! He quickly looks away, horrified at his own reaction. 

God, what is wrong with Buggy?

There's another tense moment of silence before Mihawk finally speaks up again, “I have a random question to ask you,” Mihawk announces softly as he reaches out slowly and brushes a couple of pieces of silky blue hair out of Buggy’s face. “Do you have feelings for anyone right now? It doesn’t have to be for me, it can be for anyone.” God, it must be getting late in the night. The type of late where anyone talking to you wants to have deep and meaningful conversations. 

Buggy scoffs, “Hell no.” He replies, not wanting to think about the question or take too long to answer it, either. “I haven’t had feelings for anyone in over a decade.” He admits - that’s the truth. 

“Was it Shanks?” Mihawk asks, “I mean… Was he the last person who you had feelings for?” Oh, good grief, is it that obvious? Does Buggy seem like a bitter ex lover or something or is Mihawk just really perceptive?

Buggy groans, what a mood killer, he thinks as he looks away. “Yes, it was Shanks, but who gives a shit?” he retorts. 

“Was he your first love?”

“Oh, who cares?!”

“I’m just curious, that’s all.” 

Buggy feels a headache coming on, “Yes. He was my first love.  He was my first…everything, okay?” He replies with a groan, “But I’m telling you, none of that matters. We’re not together or anything, and we haven’t been together for a while now.” 

Mihawk is silent for a moment before he asks Buggy yet another annoying question, “Do you still love him?” He loves Shanks as much as he loves a hangnail. There couldn’t be a more annoying man on the surface of this planet than Red-Haired Shanks. “You can be honest, Buggy. I won't get upset or anything.” 

God, does he really think Buggy has feelings for Shanks? Is this what this is all about? Oh, that’s stupid. “Look,” Buggy replies, clasping his hands together, “I will always love him, he’s my best friend, okay?” 

“But are you currently in love with him, Buggy?” 

No, you idiot. Buggy pauses. For some reason, he wants to put Mihawk's mind at ease even though he knows he doesn’t have to. It’s not like he and Mihawk are together or anything, but still… Buggy sighs and continues, “I’m in love with a couple of memories from twenty years ago, but nothing more.” He admits, “I’m old enough to finally understand that we just want different things in life, and that’s okay. I’m over him, okay? He’s a fucking idiot.”

Mihawk nods in response, “So I’m guessing you’re into men who are more like Shanks then?” 

Buggy snorts, “Oh, god. No.” He groans, “I couldn’t be with someone like him again. He pissed me off too much. I would rather be in a more stable relationship with someone who is kind, loyal, and reliable, you know?”

“Mhm,” Mihawk hums, “That sounds like me.” You must be sleep deprived, Buggy thinks. Reliable, maybe, but Mihawk being kind and loyal? Buggy’s not too sure about that, even if Mihawk has been on his best behavior as of lately. “I’m reliable, loyal to a fault, and… I know I haven’t been the kindest in the past, but…give me a chance to prove myself, will you? I can be warm and gentle.” He threads their fingers together, holding Buggy’s hand for real this time. Buggy doesn’t pull away from his touch either, even when his stomach practically does flips, he still doesn’t pull his hand away from Mihawk’s. 

“You try too damn hard,” Buggy mutters under his breath. He’s not actually complaining or anything, though. If anything, he’s just stating the truth. He doesn’t think he’s ever had anyone try this hard to get on his good side before. Hell, even his own men don’t try this hard to win him over.

“Am I bothering you or making you feel uncomfortable?” Mihawk asks, “If so, I apologize. I just haven’t had feelings for someone in a long, long time.” He admits, “I’m nervous and I just…” he chuckles quietly. He's nervous? No, that can't be true. Mihawk doesn’t get nervous. “I just really want you to return my feelings, but I’m worried that our disastrous past will prevent you from ever liking me back,” He squeezes Buggy’s hand softly, “I’m completely lost here, Buggy. I don’t know how to redeem myself and make myself more likable. If i’m bothering you in anyway, though, just tell me and i’ll back off. I swear.”

…

…

It takes Buggy a moment to respond, but he eventually squeezes Mihawk’s hand back, “...You’re not bothering me.” he whispers quietly. Part of him hopes Mihawk won’t hear him, but the moment he sees Mihawk smile softly and look down at their hands, he knows he got his hopes up for nothing. God, what am I doing? He finds himself wondering yet again. 

[starstruckmoony]

Hello! May I request a muggle AU with Theodore, with this meet-cute prompt: "they're on opposite sides of a wedding party to the bride and groom" (prompt is from @/thewritersafterglow on Instagram). Thank you! I know this request is in good hands :)

aaaaaa thank you anon! <3 this is the first request i've got in a while (again tysm it made me very very happy <3<3) and i had lots of fun writing it so i hope it meets your expectations!

can't help falling in love.

masterlist , requests

pairing - theodore nott x reader

trope/tags - muggle!au, strangers to lovers-ish, fluff (side note - this isn't particularly realistic because i don't really know how weddings work in different parts of the world, so i kind of just went by how they function in my country and some bits and pieces i've managed to pick up from movies and such. i know it probably won't be accurate for everybody but i tried my best LMAO)

word count - 3k

warnings - language, drinking, smoking, cheesy at the end

when you recieved an envelope in your mail one fine morning in late may, you never would have expected it to be an invitation to your primary school classmate's wedding in the english countryside. you could still recall the wonderful memory of choking on your coffee and scaring the life out of your poor cat when you saw her name plastered in big letters in the center of the paper, right below a picture of her and her fiancé. it was a miracle how she remembered you existed. to be frank, you were kind of honoured, and you made sure to confirm your arrival almost immediately. hell yeah, you were coming. free food and alcohol? who in the right mind would pass on that?

so about three months later, sometime in mid-august, you found yourself inside of a crowded venue, sweating buckets in your silky green dress, without a fan, or anybody to keep you company. a few of your old classmates were there too, but not a single one of them bothered to offer you a greeting. what a bunch of arseholes.

you stood leaned against the wall in the very back where there were fewer people, attempting to cool yourself down by fanning the air around you with your hands as you waited for the godforsaken ceremony to finally start. to nobody's surprise, the bride was a little late, and the groom's family was in a mild state of disarray. it was kind of funny, but not as funny as it would have been if you weren't feeling so bloody hot. do they not have air conditioning in here? how do people get married in these conditions? and why does the best man look more terrified than the groom?

the loud sound of somebody's shoes scraping against the tiles right next to you shook you right out of your train of thought, and you placed your hand against your chest in horror, "jesus christ." you muttered under your breath, the unfamiliar man attempting to catch his breath scared the life out of you.

he glanced at you for a split second, appearing rather exhausted (aftermath of sleeping through five alarms and having to run to the venue because his friends were too lazy to wait for him), "sorry." he offered you an apology breathlessly, leaning back against the wall to steady himself. you thought that you were being overdramatic when it came to the heat and the current atmosphere of the wedding, but this man seemed to have surpassed you. he was rather handsome though, despite being drenched in sweat from what you assumed was running, also paired with the humid air inside. his eyes were strangely captivating, and he looked a little too good in that suit of his for it to be considereded legal. were you staring? you were probably staring. you trailed your eyes away, pretending to be entertained by the groom's father who was attempting to explain the situation to the guests. you cursed inwardly, realising that you'd be stuck in there for a long time.

you turned to the pretty guy again, deciding that you should, perhaps, talk to him, "you don't look like you wanna be here." fantastic start. those probably weren't the words he wished to hear in those circumstances, but your observations didn't seem to annoy him at all. he actually chuckled instead, "am i that transparent?"

"quite." you responded a little too nonchalantly than intended, taking a quick glance at the door in hopes that you'll see the bride come in. nope. you returned to your original position. how wonderful that was, more waiting.

"do you have any water in there?" the man spoke again, pointing at the purse you had tucked under your arm.

you took it in your hands and peeked inside, knowing that you most likely wouldn't have what he was asking for, "no," you shook your head, but continued rummaging through it, "i have this, though." you pulled out a tiny bottle of liquor and shrugged before shoving it into his face.

he didn't hesitate to grab it, he would have taken anything that was liquid enough. he drank it all, not that there was much, before handing the bottle back to you with a scowl. he coughed a little as the alcohol burned his throat, and you couldn't help but snort. 

"i don't know how smart that was." it wasn't, really, since it would only dehydrate him more, but it worked for the time being. he coughed again, falling back against the wall, finally able to breathe somewhat normally.

"you'll find out in a few hours," you didn't miss the smile that painted his features, and it encouraged you to carry on, "how do you know the bride... or the groom?" you questioned, wanting to keep the conversation going to kill at least some of the remaining time you had. you were bored out of your mind.

"the groom," he nodded briefly, "we went to college together, funny bloke, he invited me and my two other friends who are... somewhere in here," he stretched his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd for a short moment, "eh, whatever." he shrugged, and then reached into his pocket, but quickly retrieved his hand. it was still empty. you had assumed he reached for a cigarette before he was able to remember where he was.

"you won't go looking for them?" you queried, finding his neutrality over the whole situation slightly bemusing. it wasn't every day that a hot guy like him ditched his friends for you, and it was rather pleasant to think about. he was hoping he wasn't being so obvious about it, but you read him a little too easily.

"what, bored of me already?" he questioned, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

"i might be, now that you said that." you scowled in pretend disgust, drawing a breathless laugh from him. you shortly sunk into a not overly uncomfortable silence, both internally debating with yourselves about whether you should keep it going or not. you were kind of drawn to each other, after all. the consequence of attending a wedding without a date must have had an influence on it, you told yourself. he mustered a similar, lame explanation.

"i'm theodore, by the way." he decided to break the ice after a while, and you almost sighed in relief, "y/n." you shook his hand politely.

"nice wedding." he added, his face scrunching at the sight before him. the sarcasm in his tone was obvious.

"delightful, isn't it?" you offered the older lady that passed by you a forced smile, and then eyed her giant pink hat judgementally. you and theodore resembled a mean high school couple who had an opinion on absolutely anyone and everything, just standing there, laughing amongst yourselves and making fun of all the other guests and their stupid pastel outfits. it made sense why your classmates hadn't approached you, but you didn't let them occupy your mind any longer. you found yourself a like-minded companion for the night, one that was ten times funnier, and the prime example of eye-candy.

"imagine she never shows up." theodore said after you shamelessly fed one another with some interesting past gossip about the bride and the groom. judging by what he had told you, those two were a match made in heaven. and you could say that with your whole chest.

"god, don't plant that idea into my head. i spent my last three paychecks on this bloody dress." you snorted, dusting it off when you noticed that it had got a bit dirty.

"it looks perfect on you, though." theodore's little compliment took you off guard, and he must have noticed judging by the way he grinned.

"thanks." you felt yourself blush a little at his comment, and just as you were about to open your mouth to speak again, the bride's mother burst through the door, announcing that her daughter would be there shortly. you exchanged a relieved glance with theodore, fucking finally.

despite the long wait, the ceremony played out quite beautifully. the couple exchanged their vows, humourous and tear-jerking all at once. people laughed, people cried, somebody's baby did both. the best man hadn't forgotten to bring the rings, and the maid of honour looked happier for the bride than the bride. nobody backed out last moment, and nobody objected after the infamous "speak now or forever hold your peace". you left the venue with a smile on your face, pleasantly surprised.

theodore and his friends offered to give you a ride to an even larger venue where the reception was being held after you told them that you had arrived with a cab, and you happily accepted their offer. the two idiots he came with were just as unserious as he was, and you had soon found out that they all attended the wedding with the same intentions as you. eat food, get drunk (and then sleep in the car because mattheo wants to get wasted but doesn't want to run them off the road and kill somebody in the process).

the reception, thankfully, moved a lot faster than the ceremony. by some sheer dumb luck, you had been instructed to sit at the same table as theodore, lorenzo and mattheo. your shitty classmates were there too, so you assumed that the table was designed specifically for that - old friends from school that the newly weds didn't talk to very much, but still liked them enough to invite them.

so, after the grand entrance, loud clapping and cheering, a cute speech from the bride, more clapping and cheering, the best dinner you had had in a while, a few more emotional speeches, and even more clapping and cheering (hollering this time, too), the dj finally showed up. it was the part of the night you had been the most excited for. the first dance was absolutely beautiful and even brought a few tears to your eyes, but god, the moment you heard an onset of lower-than-nightclub-quality music blast from the speakers, your hopes had all gone down the drain.

the dance floor filled up in a matter of seconds, and you had never been more appreciative of the existence of wine. not a single song that was played in the span of fourty-five minutes was your cup of tea. and as different people's requests kept incoming, it only got worse.

theodore seemed to be having the same problem. mattheo too, considering he had about five shots in less than half an hour. lorenzo wasn't doing much better either. he was entertaining himself by making paper planes out of tissue paper and leaving them on the table like a strange art project.

"this music is terrible." theodore's voice was completely drowned out by the godawful sounds coming from the speakers, you couldn't hear a thing he was saying.

"what?!" you shifted a bit closer to him, covering one of your ears with your palm to subdue at least some of the noise.

"i said that this music was terrible!" he tried not to shout, but it would have been impossible for you to comprehend whatever he had said if he hadn't done so. yes, it was fucking awful. many people would disagree, considering how many of them were still on the dance floor, either fully wasted already or slowly getting there. at least the newly weds were having a good time, both slightly tipsy too.

"tell me about it!" you yelled back, rolling your eyes. you considered asking him to accompany you outside, for a smoke or something, though you didn't really need an excuse. anywhere would have been better than in there. but you chickened out before you were able to speak, continuing to sip on your wine in silence. silence, that was funny, mostly because of how unbearably bloody loud the music was.

lorenzo suddenly stood up, and he yelled something into mattheo's ear. the other stared at him in confusion, and then burst out laughing into his face. he turned to you instead, and you saw his lips move, but didn't understand a thing he was saying.

"huh?!" you and theo yelled out in unison, and lorenzo waved his hands dismissively at you, defeated. he pushed his way through the crowd on the dance floor and shuffled over to the dj. he threw an arm around the man, probably trying to make some friendly conversation. they seemed to be getting along.

perfect. you reached for the wine bottle, refilling your glass and taking large gulp. you were hoping that lorenzo had enough charm to sway the dj into playing something else. it took about twenty minutes of insignficant chit-chat for the man to finally nod and give him a thumbs up, and that's then the beginning of dancing queen blessed your tortured ears.

you gasped in shock, immediately getting up onto your feet and latching onto theodore's arm. he didn't really protest when you tugged at his sleeve and pulled him to the dance floor which got even more crowded than it was before. mattheo managed to fall out of his chair, but he followed the two of you and joined you in the mass of people.

"thank me later!" lorenzo yelled your way before a pretty girl grabbed his attention. the night got so much better from then on. the dj appeared to have whipped up a large playlist of abba's work, since the songs were playing one after another, each one bringing your mood up. you had completely blocked out anything that had happened before you heard the tune of the first song, and you had only returned to the table with theodore to refill your glasses before running back to the dance floor.

you couldn't recall the last time you had that much fun, singing your heart out, jumping up and down, showing off some ridiculous moves, letting theodore hold your hand and spin you around. the dj stuck to the same genre for a while, playing old pop songs, keeping everybody on their feet. some of them you didn't know, but you weren't about to sit back down after doing so for almost two hours, so you danced to them too nevertheless.

that is, until your legs started hurting a little too much for it to be tolerable and your throat had got a bit sore from belting several songs with the bride. your head was spinning too, courtesy of having so much wine. theodore took the opportunity to ask you to accompany him outside (because he really needed a cigarette) after some slow tune neither of you were familiar with had been put on.

you nodded your head took a hold of his hand as he led you out the door. you clumsily made your way down the stairs, laughing as you did so. the effects of alcohol were beginning to show themselves.

as fun as it was, getting out of there for a short while was a need. you slumped down onto one of the stone benches placed outside the venue, sighing comfortably as the chilly breeze of the night cooled you down.

you immersed yourself into another casual discussion, not a very significant one, as neither of you could even stand properly for too long without stumbling, but it was nice breather from the wild atmosphere inside. you liked talking to theodore, and even with your clouded thoughts, you knew you'd want to see him again after this. there wasn't a doubt in your mind.

"i thought i'd have to leave early." theodore laughed to himself as he took the last drag from his cigarette, and then tossed the burnt out stub onto the concrete.

"and make me stay here all alone?" you teased, although you probably would have left too if it wasn't for lorenzo and his skillful flirtation tactics or whatever the hell that was.

"who said i wouldn't bring you along?" his response made heat rush to your cheeks, and you put your head down with a breathless chuckle. you were quiet for a moment, trying to recollect your thoughts.

"you know, this might sound a little weird, but," you chewed on the inside of your cheek, not really able to think straight. you were tipsy, after all, "i'm glad i met you today," you tilted your head to the side, drunkenly observing him, "you're nicer than i anticipated." as backhanded as it sounded, that was the best you could do.

it was theodore's turn to blush after you said the words, and it didn't manage to go past you, despite him trying his hardest to hide it.

"yeah, i mean no– it's not weird, i'm uh," he trailed off, contemplating whatever it was that he wanted to say next. honestly speaking, he didn't know how to put it into words, "i'm glad we met too, you're–"

one thing that theodore hated was tripping over his words and not being able to be blunt with somebody he took a liking to, which is why he was so, very grateful to hear elvis' can't help falling in love coming from the inside of the venue.

you looked up at him when you realised which song it was, waiting to see if he'll ask you to dance. and he did, but he didn't lead you back in through the door like you thought he might. you stayed outside in the light wind, slowly swaying to the music, his hands on your waist and your arms around his neck.

you liked it better that way, just the two of you in your own little world with nobody else to disrupt you. you let your head rest on his shoulder, and his grip on your waist tightened just a little bit, like he was making sure you won't leave him. you smiled to yourself, god, that was the last thing you were planning on doing.

[cherryteapink]

I see your vision through tears

Starscream x mechanic reader, part 1

Again a beating from Megatron and cries of displeasure.. Out of the medical bay came a mech who didn't care about the disappointment he was getting.. He, Starscream, the second in command and a famous seeker with ambitions.. Everyone has a role, and goals, someone gets happiness. Starscream gritted his teeth as he went to his chambers, his trine had the concept of happiness, Thundercracker had his favorite thing to do and even a dog, although it was strange to him. Skywarp also got what he wanted, and he.. How is he? When the seeker sat down, closing his optics, thinking about what happiness is.. For him, happiness is power, but will it give him full satisfaction of pleasure..Starscream knew that happiness must be forcibly demanded by power in order to have happiness. Opening the optics, the mech got up leaving the base to feel a little freedom, the smell of the fact that no one will bother him, no one will say that he is worthless. Oh, yes, the sky and the wind, the base was far from him, there was a beautiful view of nature, the city, the road where the cars were driving from below.. When he landed near the forest, feeling quiet and peaceful, one question was still running in his mind, is he really happy? Maybe he will always be the one who receives only pain, but hides it under his selfish character. Starscream knew that even among the Decepticons he was nobody, just some kind of shell with a character.. Starscream was so deep in thought that he didn't even turn around as he left the forest walking along the sidewalk. He raised his helmet, his optics paid attention to how a lone car drove in his direction.

You already hated this day in the morning, waking up to the alarm clock and seeing the time on your phone that you will be late for work. Quickly picking yourself up, you tied your hair in a ponytail and took your clothes out of the closet, getting dressed, taking your car keys and bag and running to the car and ahead.. You scolded yourself that you forgot to set the alarm at the right time again.. Oh, great, your phone is ringing, it must be the boss.. But surprisingly, it was your colleague Michael from work.. While driving, you took a shortcut near the forest and spoke on the phone asking Michael to help secure you until you're in place.. What the hell, on the sidewalk? You strained your eyes and saw a decepticon.. You can't, of course you saw on TV on the news of the battle between autobots and decepticons, that the autobots always won or saved the humans.. You slammed on the brakes, but the car was going so fast that it couldn't stop and turned the other way.. Oh, damn, when you tried to turn around, there was a tree in front of you.. You panicked so much that you lost consciousness. Pain in the head, barely opening your eyes you groaned in pain.. You seem to be alive, that's good and looking around you saw that in some unfamiliar place and around you were playing. You were surprised to see that it was a cage, a big cage.. You don't remember anything, who could have saved you and kidnapped you.. Interrupting your thoughts, you heard a rumble and heavy footsteps, your eyes widened in shock when you saw this same Decepticon who was looking at you too, his red optics scanned with a sly and predatory look, which sent shivers down your body. His gigantic figure cast a shadow over you and the cage in which you were sitting. Starscream looked at your tiny form, remembering that for some reason he decided to take you away, his selfish tone boomed-"I saved you meatbag, but don't think I did it just like that, it's your job to serve me, now you're my pet.."

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

It was torture! Remus had to endure, or maybe appreciate the artistic and magestic process of Sirius Black getting dressed.

He got out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel on. Hair wet, drops falling down his back. The silver chain glowing on his naked chest.

The smell of shampoo reaching Remus's nostrils.

All the time, Remus played the image inside his head in low motion. And all the time, he played the same song: Emotions by Brenda Lee.

Emotions, what are you doin'?

Oh, don't you know, don't you know you'll be my ruin?

Remus remembered how silly Sirius used to make him. As a kid, he locked himself in the tiny room of the pool house, stole his dad's Brenda Lee record and wrote Sirius's name inside a heart. He wrote his name (or what it used to be his name) with Sirius's last name. Their names together. Over and over again.

You worry my days, yes, you torture my nights

Never a dream, no, those dreams never turn out right

Now as a teenager, Remus was even worse. Maybe Sirius was aware of how he stared. Maybe all the boys noticed how obvious he was, But he couldn't help himself.

Sirius was so freaking beautiful it hurt. His torso looked like it was sculpted by some greek dude.

Remus remembered Sirius's morning ritual like a mantra.

Emotions, give me a break

Let me forget that I made a mistake

Sirius put some aftershave. The smell was incredible. Then, he shook his head to get that sexy messy vibe in his hair. Wet locks of hair flew everywhere, then they found their place on Sirius's hair. Sirius put them back with his fingers.

Then Sirius bended to grab his clothes from the drawer and Remus could take a peek of his delicious bum.

Next it was the process of getting dressed. The boxers inside the towel. And after applying deodorant, Sirius loved to walk across the room bothering Peter, messing with a now dressed James. It was a delight. Remus thanked Calvin Klain for making those black shorts.

Sirius also sent tiny smiles at Remus! Secret tiny smiles!

And when sometimes Sirius talked to him, Remus had to nod pretending he was not listening that silly song inside his brain.

Oh, can't you see what you're doin' to me?

Emotions, please set me free

Only when James yelled at him "Fucking Hell, Sirius. Hurry up! We're late!", Sirius laughed and proceeded to get fully dressed. He started with the trousers.

He used black tight jeans with the uniform. Of course! They fit like a glove. They looked amazing on Sirius.

Then it was a disappointment when Sirius hid those abs under the white shirt.

You worry my days, oh, you torture my nights

Never a dream, no, those dreams never turn out right

When he was fully dressed, Remus's best part came along. Sirius loved to check himself in the mirror for a while, fixing his perfect hair and trying to find some kind of imperfections. As he could find any, It was some kind of irony. By this point his hair was dryer and oh how wonderful it fell to his shoulders.

Now Sirius's cologne was the best freaking smell in the world and Remus would gladly get intoxicated with it.

Oh, can't you see what you're doing to me?

Emotions, please set me free

No. Remus's best part came later when Sirius asked Remus to fix his tie. He just had to be patient for him to ask him and wait.

"Remus?"

If Remus was braver and could do what he pleased, he would walk over there, push Sirius to the wall or the bed and eat that mouth of his until they were both out of breath.

"Hey, Remus..."

Only with that thought his mouth got dry and the temperature of his body rose...

"Reeemuus..."

He wanted to kiss that neck too. God! That neck...

"REMUS!"

When Remus felt someone pushing his shoulder, he woke up from his trance. The song stopped.

"I'm gay!"

Peter was right next to him with a quizzinal face.

"What?"

"I'm 'kay..." Remus cleared his throat nervously. He was so pathetic. He had to torture himself with the crave he had for his best friend every single day "I'm okay... What? What did you want?"

Peter's eyes flickered to the other side of the room where Sirius and James were fooling around. Now dressed.

Peter smiled knowingly. Remus faked dementia.

"Can I borrow your History notes before the exam today?"

Remus blinked remembering that he was a student and life continued and he had a History test today. Not everything revolved around Sirius.

"Sure" he smiled "Sure, Pete"

"Thanks" Peter said. Then subtly, he winked.

God! Remus was so obviously pathetic and the fact that Sirius didn't notice was a miracle.

[stop-talking]

I am soooo excited for the rest of your Derek fic your Mike fic was so good!!! It was everything I want from enemies to lovers so I can't wait for more 💕

So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 2)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

Word count: 3.1k

Tags: 18+, Derek x fem reader, no use of y/n, angst, enemies, enemies to lovers, fluff, (very) slowburn, sass, banter, misogynistic & violent undertones, (Derek is a prick), suggestive themes, mentions of drug use, withdrawals, rehab, overall mature content.

Part 1 Part 3

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Derek is pulled from his deep, trance-like sleep by the sound of someone calling his name.

He sits up in bed, blinking and swaying slightly as he adjusts to the light pouring in through his windows.

"Derek? C'mon, wake up."

Who the hell is knocking on his door? Everyone knows not to wake him unless it's urgent.

He stumbles to the door, nearly tripping over his own feet. Why is his head pounding? Is he hungover?

"Fuck d'ya want?"

Derek opens the door, ready to chew out whoever is on the other side. He stops when he sees you, and suddenly remembers everything that happened last night.

Beach house. Three weeks. With you. Sober.

"I was thinking we could have breakfast?"

Derek blinks at you, unsure what to even say. He wasn't used to being woken up like this, and his head was still pounding. God, he wanted his vape already.

"Umm... sure. Let me..." He looks down at his clothing, a simple t-shirt and some sweats. He feels... naked.

"I'm gonna change." He mumbles, closing the door before you can fully take in his disheveled appearance. He doesn't like letting people see him without his usual clothing. Which, honestly, was anything but usual.

Today, Derek decides on a floral print button-up, and a nice pair of green slacks. He doesn't bother with a jacket or blazer, it's too hot for that. He finishes the look by adding a belt with a chunky gold buckle, and his staple, snakeskin boots.

After getting dressed, he moves on to his hair, putting a small handful of product into his curls. The frosted tips are relatively new, and Derek smiles at his reflection. He looks pretty damn good, all things considered.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"Morning." You nod to Derek as he makes his way into the kitchen.

"Morning..." He mumbles back, taking a seat on a stool next to the island.

"How're you feeling?" You turn away from the breakfast you were beginning to prepare, just a gathering of ingredients really, and look him over.

He looks... tired. He's dressed in his regular clothes now... well, regular for Derek. You can't help but notice the way his leg bounces nervously, how he repeatedly reaches into his pocket, only to take his hand back out immediately.

"Fine." He answers flatly, turning and scratching at the back of his neck.

Hm. He sure didn't look fine.

"You know I'm here to help you, right?" You decide to take a risk and verbally prod him a little, just to see if he opens up.

He doesn't.

"Shouldn't you be cooking me breakfast?" He sneers, narrowing his eyes at you as you lean on the counter across from him.

Okay, that's enough sass.

"If you want to eat breakfast, you can help make it."

Derek scoffs at that.

"I don't cook."

"So you've said."

The two of you silently stare at each other for a few moments, Derek's eyes narrow while you remain calm and serious. Finally, he relents.

"Fuck are you even making?" He grumbles, shifting in his seat to peek over your shoulder at the ingredients you've gathered on the counter behind you.

"Pancakes." You step aside so he can see the box of pancake mix, and do your best to muster up a smile. He's grumpy, yeah, but not truly angry yet. Better not push him if an argument can be avoided.

"So... do you want to help me cook breakfast, or do last night's dishes?"

Derek looks back and fourth between you and the sinkful of dishes, frowning.

"...You said pancakes?"

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek grimaces as a bit of pancake batter splashes on his silk shirt from his sloppy whisking. How did he get roped into this? Cooking? Seriously?

"Is it supposed to look so... lumpy?" He asks, frowning as he lifts the whisk and watches the weird goop plop down into the bowl.

"Yeah, that's normal. Keep mixing, and scrape the bottom. You're doing great."

He sighs, but continues to whisk, more carefully this time. It's... not that hard, actually. Even if it looks lumpy and weird.

After a minute or so, you apparently decide he's done enough, and take the bowl from him.

"So... am I done?"

"...do you want to eat raw batter?"

"No."

"Then no."

Derek scowls, watching as you spray something on the pan.

"Then what am I-"

"Just wait. I'll explain."

He lets out a rather dramatic sigh, then leans against the counter and eyes you. As annoying as you are... he can't help but admit you're attractive. Just a little.

Soon, you're pouring batter into the pan and walking him through cooking a pancake. He's only half-listening. It should be easy. Let it cook on one side, flip it, let the other side cook. Right? Even he couldn't fuck that up.

"You ready to try?" You ask, giving him an eager smile. Damn. Okay, maybe you're more than just a little attractive.

Derek just nods and takes the bowl from you, pouring some batter into the pan, trying to mimic what you did. Unfortunately, he overshot his pour, and it spread out to fill almost the entire pan.

"It's okay." You assure him. "It'll just be a big one."

He resists the urge to make a stupid joke about his "big one", instead deciding to just shrug it off and move on.

"So.. how do I tell when it's ready to flip again?" He asks, shifting awkwardly as you both silently wait for the pancake to cook.

"When it starts bubbling at the edges. Look, there's already a few."

You point, and he leans down to watch it more carefully.

"...can I flip it now?"

"Yeah, go ahead. Just like I showed you."

Derek accepts the spatula you hand him, gently sliding it under the pancake. Okay... just flip it. No big deal.

He completely fucks it up. The oversized pancake folds in half over the side of the pan, batter splattering all over the stove. He jumps back in shock, then straightens himself and scowls when he hears you laughing.

"It's not funny." He glares at you, then turns his attention back to the sorry excuse for a pancake. It's half-cooked, dripping down the side of the pan and onto the stovetop.

"No, no... It's not. I'm sorry..." You choke out between wheezes.

"Make breakfast yourself." Derek huffs, throwing the spatula onto the counter and storming off.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

After taking a minute to calm yourself down from the laughing fit, and several minutes to clean up Derek's failed attempt at a pancake, you finally convince him to come try again.

"Here, I'll guide you through it this time." You place a hand over his as he holds the spatula, standing directly behind him and speaking in a soothing manner.

He glances back at you and shifts slightly, looking... nervous? No, no way. He's probably just still grumpy from earlier.

"C'mon, you only messed up last time because there was too much batter. You'll do fine." You assure him, giving his hand a light squeeze.

"Yeah... alright." He seems to stiffen from your touch instead of relax. Odd.

When it's finally time to flip it, you count down from three, then help guide him through the motion. This time, there's no mess. A perfect flip.

"See? You did great." You nudge him playfully with your elbow, giving him a grin.

"Yeah... I did." He mumbles and turns away, suddenly extremely interested in the bowl of batter.

Is he... blushing? You can't tell for sure, with his head turned, but the tips of his ears look a little... pink.

"Wanna make a few more, master chef Derek?" You tease him, leaning over to try and get a glimpse of his face.

"Calling me master already, sweetheart?" He quips back, turning to face you with a smirk of his own. Whatever blush you thought you saw is gone now, replaced by his usual cocky demeaner.

Of course he'd respond like that. Asshole.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek remains relatively quiet throughout breakfast, focusing mainly on stuffing his face.

He chews slowly, trying to wrap his head around what just happened. So many emotions are running through his head right now that he hardly feels his throbbing headache.

The way you smiled at him. How you didn't give up on him when he messed up. Fuck, you even held his hand. Well, you put your hand on top of his while he held a spatula. But still, that counted, right?

"So... what's the plan for today?" He finally asks, looking up at you from across the dining table."

"What do you mean?"

"Like... what are we gonna do? Sit on our asses all day?" He scowls, and stuffs another bite of pancake into his mouth.

"If that's what you want."

"Itths noht." Derek shakes his head, mumbling through a mouthful of food.

"Gross. Chew your fucking food." You give him a pointed look, then take a bite of your own breakfast.

"Whatever. Seriously. If I have to stay cooped up in this house for THREE WEEKS, I'm going to go insane."

"You're already pretty insane."

"I'll get worse."

You laugh at that, and Derek frowns. It's not funny. He's completely serious.

"Well... if you're that eager to get out, how about we walk down to the beach for the afternoon? Spend the day in the sand?"

"Yeah... that sounds nice."

He quickly finishes up the rest of his food, eager to get out. And maybe also excited at the prospect of seeing you in a bikini. Just a bit.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Around half an hour later, you walk downstairs, sporting a new bathing suit.

You study Derek, who's changed into swimming trunks. Cheetah print, obviously. Pfft. With the mullet and the animal print, he reminds you a lot of that one guy. What does he call himself? The... tiger king?

The thought makes you laugh, and Derek frowns.

"What's so funny?" He asks, eying you from the couch as he lounges with his feet up and his hands behind his head.

"Nothing. You look... nice." You nod to him, and give his body a quick once-over with your eyes. Definitely not checking him out. Not staring. At all.

Derek does the same to you, studying your choice of swimwear. You chose a one-piece swim dress, pink with a little pair of shorts built in under the skirt. It would be considered modest, if it weren't for the plunging neckline and the panel cut out of the back. Speaking of which...

"Hey, can you get my back for me?" You ask, holding up a bottle of sunscreen. That seems to break Derek out of his trance, and he sits up and pats the spot next to him on the couch.

"Sure, If you'll do mine."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek is a little disappointed about your swimsuit choice at first, but then he takes in the low neckline. And the skirt... damn. He knew there was probably something under it, but he couldn't help but imagine there wasn't, just for a moment.

And now you're asking him to rub sunscreen on your back? Holy shit.

"Like this?" He asks, applying a generous amount of the cream to your back.

"Mhm."

He takes a little bit of liberty and gets your shoulders as well, gently rubbing your skin and tucking his hands under the straps of your swimsuit to make sure every inch is covered. He has to restrain himself from letting his hands roam further.

"Here, do mine for me." He drops the sunscreen bottle into your lap and turns, his back facing you.

Christ. Your hands on his back feel... heavenly. He bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from letting out a groan.

"There. You're all covered." You finish by giving him a quick pat on the shoulder, then standing up and stretching. Derek can't help but stare as you do, and suddenly, he wishes his shorts weren't so... thin.

He shakes himself and stands as well, heading for the door. As long as he has his back to you, you won't notice just how much he likes that swimsuit of yours.

Unfortunately... you don't fucking leave him alone. Of course.

"Wait, did you get the rest of your body?" You ask, grabbing the little beach bag you packed and scurrying to catch up with him.

"I'll be fine." He answers, shrugging it off and walking a little faster to stay ahead of you.

"That's stupid. You want to burn everywhere but your back?"

"I'm not going to burn, sweetheart. I just tan."

"Derek. At least get the rest of your torso. And face. Please?"

He winces as you finally catch up to him and grab his arm, but he's mostly calmed down now, so he just sighs and nods.

"Fine. But I'll do it myself."

You two walk down a wooden path that eventually gets buried in white sand as you approach the beach. It's beautiful, open and empty, untouched by anyone other than the Danforth family.

Derek sloppily applies sunscreen as he walks, slathering it on his torso, neck, and face. When he's done with his half-ass job, he turns to you and scowls.

"There. Happy now?"

"Hold on, you didn't rub it in all the way..." You gently swipe at his cheek with your hand, smiling.

"Stop that." He mumbles, pressing his hand to his cheek in the spot you just touched.

"Stop what?"

"Treating me like a child."

You seem taken aback by that answer, because you don't respond for a minute, trudging through the sand in silence.

"I'm not trying to treat you like a child. But your mom did task me with taking care of you, so..."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm a grown man and I have a goddamn babysitter." He growls, though he can't really find it in himself to feel angry. Being taken care of... doesn't sound too bad right now.

"Oh, boohoo. Come on. Lets go swim."

"Uhh... I think I'll stay here." He mutters, sitting down in the sand and watching you make your way over to the ocean. When you had suggested spending the day in the sand, he'd assumed you meant... well, literally staying in the sand.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You turn and frown as Derek plops down on the ground, refusing to budge.

"What? You scared to get a little wet?" You tease him, shouting to be heard over the waves. The cold water crashing over your ankles makes you shiver.

"No." He pouts, settling back against the beach bag you packed.

"Just... don't wanna."

That makes you even more confused. What's his deal? First he complains about being cooped up, then he refuses to go for a dip?

You trot back over to him, kicking up sand.

"Derek. Come on. I didn't do all this just to get blown off. Come swim with me." You tug on his arm, and he reluctantly gets up.

"I guess I could get my feet wet..." He scowls, looking at the ocean with disdain.

"You'll do more than that." You scold him, linking your arm in his and practically dragging him over to the water.

He makes a scrunched up face when the first wave hits him, washing over his feet and sinking his ankles into the sand.

When you try to tug him along further, he doesn't budge.

"I'm not getting in the water."

"Why not?" You finally ask, exasperated.

"I... I can't swim." He mumbles something, but the wind carries it away.

"What?"

"I can't swim." He groans, pulling away from you and burying his face in his hands.

This makes you pause, but only for a moment.

"Okay, then don't swim. Just come sit in the water." You make another grab for him, and he doesn't resist this time, letting you take him a few steps further. Once the water is about halfway to your knees, you lower yourself, and Derek sits beside you.

"This okay?" You ask, turning to look at him.

"It's cold. And wet."

"Yeah, that's... kinda how the ocean is."

You sit in silence for a few moments, until you finally clear your throat and speak up again.

"How have you gone this long without learning to swim? Don't you, like, host pool parties?"

"I mostly stick to the shallow end." He grumbles, shrugging the question off.

"Why not do the same here? Wade into waist-level with me?" You prod him with a finger, poking his side in a playful manner.

That just earns you a scowl.

"Because. There isn't a fucking shallow end in the ocean. It's... weird." He visibly shudders as he stares out into the endless waves, and shies back a bit.

You can tell this is a touchy subject for him, so you just sigh and let it go. Whatever. You can swim alone, right?

"Well, I'm going to go a little further in, you're welcome to join me."

With that, you stand and wade into the water, your walk turning to a paddle as the ground drops away beneath you. The ocean feels freeing, the gentle rocking of the waves lulling you into a trance-like state.

When you finally glance back at Derek, you see he's already sitting in the sand again, positioned so the waves can just barely reach his feet. Hm. He must really have a thing about the water.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

That night, Derek lies in bed, tossing and turning as he tries to fight away his many thoughts on the day's activities.

He thinks about cooking breakfast with you, how you held his hand and praised him for his efforts.

And oh god, your touch. He can practically feel your hands on his back still.

Then at the beach... you hardly reacted to his lack of swimming prowess. Though, he was still a little bitter you fucked off without him and left him to sit in the sand.

You made up for it tenfold at dinner, letting him help you in the kitchen. He didn't want to admit it, but he genuinely enjoyed learning to cook. Even if it did feel so... domestic.

He can still hear the words you spoke to him ringing in his ears as he shuts his eyes tight and tries to sleep.

"See? You've got it. Just like that."

"You're a natural."

"Keep going. Almost there."

Fuck. He couldn't squander his thoughts of you, no matter how hard he tried.

And that wasn't even his worst problem. You'd managed to distract him pretty damn well throughout the day, always keeping him busy with something.

But now, alone in his room, his head was pounding again, and all he wanted was a hit of his vape. Or maybe a shot. Or some blow. Just anything to get rid of the goddamn headache.

He groans and sits up in bed, and moves to do the only thing he can think to do. Go see you.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note: Oh man. I dunno if I'm gonna be able to keep doing this whole "posting one chapter a day" thing for much longer. I originally intended this chapter to be 2k words, maybe 2.5k at most, but sheesh. It grew into this... and I wanted to write more, but stopped myself. It's currently 3am and I've worked on this for around 6 hours today.

Also... why did I make Derek unable to swim? Idk. Tertiary plot? The man doesn't have many personality traits in the cannon other than "douchebag rich brat with mommy issues". I'm trying to keep him in character, but it's hard when the character isn't all that fleshed out to begin with, so bear with me here.

ANYWAYS, hope y'all enjoy! Now is your time to send in Derek Danforth requests... cuz I'm writing this as I go along. Who knows? Maybe your suggestion will make it into the next chapter. & thank you to the anon who sent the kind words <3

Part 3

[justjams2003]

Fast Pace- 10

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae

Word count: 3,1k

Masterlist

Part 9~Part 11(coming soon)

"Carlos! Carlos! Carlos! Look! Look! Look!” Your excitement is uncontainable. There was a knock on the door early in the morning. You opened the door to a package in the hands of one of your security guards. With the name of one of the lesser-known clothing brands in Milan. You'd slept in the same bed as Carlos, and it’s brought you closer together. You jump on the bed, just barely missing his sleeping form, well, now no longer sleeping. 

He doesn't even groan at your excitement. Instead, he wakes up with a smile. "Goodmorning, mi dulce niña, what has got you so riled up before 7 in the morning?” He asks, picking you up by the waist and placing you in his lap. "I got a package, see?” He rubs his eyes, now really waking up. He takes the box from your hands and reads the letter that came with.  

"Dear, Y/N, we've seen your videos and would love for you to show off some of our best looks on the paddock. Gioia Bini.” He doesn't show much of a reaction, clearly though just a bluff, a wide grin covers his face. He grabs you and then pulls you close to him. His scruff tickles you as he places a thousand small kisses all over. Your neck, your shoulders, your cheeks.  

You can't help but laugh, joy coursing through you. "I'm so proud of you!” His words feel like adrenaline through your bones. You can feel your childhood hopes and dreams spark alive again. This is a moment you'll be saving forever. Like a wallpaper for your mind. Because while he gives you words of praise you feel nothing but pure joy.  

"Let me fit it, and you can help me chose when and which one.” The first one is that classic Ferrari read, never before have you realised how good you look in the colour. Or just how good it feels to see him look at you like that. As if you're worth a million, no, a billion dollars. The second one is a short, white dress.  

"Mmh, a difficult choice. You know I love you in red, but I can't wait to see you in white.” "What?” Did he really just say that? Marriage? Yes, you're crazy about him, but you've only known him a month. But he doesn't answer. At all. He brushes it off as if he never said it. As if he meant to keep it in his mind or say it in Spanish.  

He then checks his watch; he'd already gotten ready in his gym clothes. "We'll decide after the gym.” You smile and go to get ready for your everyday. "Okay, enjoy yourself,” yet before you could go change, he grabs you by the wrist. "Ah, ah, ah. You're joining me. Remember the deal?” The realisation hits you, he must be making a joke, he can't be serious.  

Yet, he was dead serious about the smoking. He was dead serious about the healthy eating; you could see your hips becoming a bit softer and your legs just a bit rounder. His fingers come up to your chin and close your mouth. "You'll catch flies, why is this bothering you so much?” You rip your wrist from his hand.  

"Fine.” You don't mean to sound so harsh, but you can feel the memories surfacing. You can't help but stare at yourself in the mirror. Does he not like your body? Does he want it different? Will he be taking your privilege if you don't go? You thought you were more to him? More than just a body. Is that why he won't touch you? He doesn't think your body is good enough yet? 

"You're killing me,” you're heaving heavily. Squeezing your sides from the stitches as you hang over the treadmill. All while your sugar daddy and your shared personal trainer is laughing at your reaction. "You! This is all your fault. I thought you-” the word love plays on your tongue. No, he can't possibly love you. If he does, there must be something wrong with him.  

"-cared for me! And now? Now you're trying to kill me.” You just barely peer over to him. He hasn't even broken a sweat and yet he's done 3 times more than you. "It's just a 10 minute run, Y/N. I understand you had that classic French diet, but we have to start somewhere.” Rupert explains, trying to encourage you.  

It doesn't help, you can feel your lungs burning. But Carlos knows. He knows what motivates you, he knows what pushes your buttons. He tells Bob to go fill out your water bottle again. Then he does the same as before, lifts your chin and then brings your ear close to his mouth. "Come on, show Daddy you'll be able to keep up with me.” He shoots you a wink and before you know it, Bob is back.  

Your cheeks are bright red, and you just hope and pray that the trainer will think it's from the exercise. "Alright, Rupert, peak health. As good as a high-performance athlete.” You send Carlos a wink, hoping that it has the same effect on him as it has on you. It doesn't he doesn't blush, not once, in fact his smirk grows wider.  

"Carlos did what?” You bite your lip at Alexandra's reaction. "He gave me his card and told me to go shop.” Kika lets out a laugh. "We heard you; we're just shocked.” You look at the both of them, their opinions matter a lot to you. You want what they have, what they are. You want to join them on their girls-trips and always enjoy the hospitalities with them on the paddock.  

"What? Does Pierre not do that?” You ask, feeling a bit like a deer caught in headlights. "I wish." She scoffs taking a sip from her drink. "Neither does Charles. I mean, he does give me presents and naturally we go on vacation together, but rarely does he just give me his card.” She still looks a bit taken back. "His Black Amex at that too.” Kika interrupts.  

The realisation of just how different your relationship is hits you. You didn't think from the start that they're sugar babies, but you thought at least their boyfriends would treat them the same. Or at least, similarly. Even so, for the most part your behaviour seems more girlfriend than sugar baby. Should you be acting different?  

"And the car too! Kika, did you see her car?” Alex calls out, putting down her drink. "Car?” Portuguese girl asks after swallowing her bite. Alex squeals and then pulls out her phone. At the moment, you feel like an outsider. You feel like they're gossiping about you, even if you're right next to them. She then shows Kika your Instagram, and they both swoon. Has she been watching you? 

 "You follow me?” She chuckles and nods, "Of course, girl, I've been stalking you since Charles told me Carlos got a new girl.” You chuckle, this all feels so schoolgirl. As if you aren't surrounded by some of the riches people on earth. "So, he's had plenty of girlfriends then?” She thinks for a moment, before backtracking on her words. 

"I wouldn't call them girlfriends. They're more like flings than anything. But you... I think you're here to stay.” She takes your hands in her own. "Why do you say so.” Before she even starts speaking, she leers over her sunglasses to Brutis and Otis. "Because they've never been here before." You regret wearing the claw-clip now, because you're so ready to hide.  

Kika finishes her drink, "Yeah, do they follow you everywhere?” She asks while turning back and waving to them. No reaction on their part. You sigh, letting go of Alex's hands and hiding your face. "Ugh, yes, it's Carlos' only fault. His protectiveness." Alex laughs and then shrugs. "It makes sense, the fans can be more dangerous than you realise..." It feels like the same speech he gave you.

"Yeah, didn't you see all those videos at the concerts? People are throwing things these days..." Kika agrees with Alex. If three people think the same, maybe it is logical? You haven't told Ilsa or Jasmine about them, you already know how they'll overreact.  

"I guess he's just worried about me," both of the girls only hum, but like classic good friends they give each other a knowing look. "But they're not much fun, are they?" She reads you like a book, they've been such a drag. A looming figure you just can't get rid of. And you know other people are staring more at them than they are at you. After all, you're not even that famous. "Why don't we ditch them?" Alex asks, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "I don't know, I don't want to stress Carlos out. With the practice and all, I don't want him to get hurt..."  

They both groan and boo at your hesitation. "He's not your dad, you don't have to do everything he says." Kika gives a sharp side eye, but she too has the playful aura. "Yeah, all three our boys are busy right now. We won't be bothering them. You can barely reach them when they're caught up in the media like this." She's right, so far you've just been sitting here eating lunch with them. After that, you have no idea. Carlos has so much to do and you honestly don't feel like getting in his hair. "Oh alright, how are we going to do this?"  

"Woohoo! Isn't this so much more fun than sitting around with those old men?" You can barely hear her over the sound of the radio. You're driving down the streets of Milan, again. This time an even bigger budget in mind with your new girl friends.

Even better so that those two boys aren't here to ruin the party, they'd been blowing up your phone and you've been gladly ignoring them. Gucci scarves, Prada heels, Hermés handbags, anything you could dream off. All the while the three of you go crazy on your Instagram. Showing everyone the life.  

"Oo girl, Carlos is going to attack you like some vicious animal when he sees you in that." Kika smirks as you all fit the lingerie on, after all the shopping and treats you all feel much closer together. You can only laugh, too ashamed to truly speak of all that is happening. Alex whines and places her head on your shoulder. "You really have the perfect guy." You can only laugh at her. "And what? Charles Leclerc is a deadbeat?"  

He's getting paid more than Carlos, he's more stable with Ferrari than Carlos and they've been longer together than the two of you. She laughs and admires herself in the changing room mirror. "I really like him, don't get me wrong. But he's not obsessed with me like Carlos is with you."

You blush and begin changing back into your clothes. "I wouldn't say he's obsessed with me." You both leave the changing room at the same time, conveniently with Kika outside still deep in your conversation.  

"Girl, have you seen the way he looks for you? All he does for you? What has it been? 6 Months? I would marry that man already if I were you. Just to make sure he doesn't get away." If you had a drink you would've spit it out. "Kika! It's a bit early, don't you think?" You're glad she shares your shock, otherwise you'd be certain that they're both crazy. "Not at all." You all three laugh at her, now you're really enjoying yourself.  

The ringtone rings, Sade's Smooth Operator plays due to the ringtone. "Speak of the devil." You say, holding up your phone after paying. You answer the phone while walking out the doors. "Where the fuck are you?" You can't help but let a laugh escape. He must be joking or something, you've never heard this time from him. He's never been aggressive towards you, ever. "This is not something to be fucking laughing about. Get back to the hotel, now."  

You fall back, behind the two girls, not wanting them to listen to the conversation. "Why? It's not even," you go to look at the time only to realise free practice has long since ended. Not to mention, it's almost 5. "Oh shit..." You mutter, not realising how long you've been out and about.

"Oh shit is right. Get back to the hotel. Now." His voice is much sterner than you've ever heard him be. Comparable to the rage you've seen in the videos, after he's been let down by his team, again. Have you let him down?  

You open the hotel door. All while taking off your heels and putting them to the side. "Carlos?" You call out, not seeing him lounging around, likely guessing that he's changing. In your mind, he's supposed to go to the gym right around now. The trainer has kept your sessions three times a week for now. However, walking further into the hotel room you see him on the balcony. In his workout clothes, his back faced to you with the setting sun of Italy in the background.  

"Carlos," he doesn't look to be as angry as he sounded on the phone. Then again, you've never really seen him angry. He turns to you, now you can truly gauge his emotions. "Where were you?" You go to answer him but he raises his hand. "More importantly why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" Anger, yes, it's prevalent, but more importantly you see fear. Utter frustration in his eyes, he looks like he's ran a  marathon. 

You shrug, inspecting your still un-pedicured toes. That was one of the many things you plan on doing with your mom next week when you visit. "I didn't want to bother you. You were busy with the media." He scoffs at your words, his dark hair moving with his dramatic reactions. He repeats your words in a mutter. "So you thought it would be better to scare the living shit out of me?" He does look truly terrified. His usually soft eyes are now hard like rock. Like the amber stones his eyes so resemble.  

"Do you know how it felt? I was in the middle of a drivers meeting. I thought someone took you from me!" You see tears form in his eyes. His backlash has a similar effect on you. You can feel the rock in your throat and the burning in your jaw. Yet still you don't dare say a word, after all you have nothing to say.

"Worse even, I thought you left me. I thought that they had said something that made you leave. That you realise you deserve much more than me." This makes you laugh, or maybe it's just to keep the sobs from escaping.  

But the laugh seems to pierce his heart. "You're laughing? I'm ready to burn the whole of Italy just to find you and you're laughing?" Now, now you see anger. Raging burning anger. Like it's been locked in a cage and now it's free and gulping up oxygen.

"No, Carlos. It's funny to me that you think I deserve better? You quite literally took me in from the streets. Fed me with Caviar, clothed me with Gucci and cared for me like a king his queen, expecting nothing in return. And yet still believe I deserve better?"  

Now it's his turn to laugh. You can see his fighting a battle in his mind. What to say and what not to say. "Can't you see? In five years I'll be washed up. Not a single Championship to my name and my money spent on stupidly expensive watches and cars that don't even hold one shopping bag. But you, you're immortal. Your beauty should be and I'm convinced will be remembered until every last mind withers from this earth.  Every single dime spent on you, is for the betterment of humanity."  

How on earth can you really mean so much to him? What is it about you? How can one glance from an alleyway have this man in tears in front of you. You can't control yourself, you just need to feel his arms around you.

You need to hold him and comfort him. Tell him you'll stay forever. How sorry you are and that it won't ever happen again. And he lets you. He lets the tears fall in the crook your neck. His grip tighter than you thought possible. To the point where it aches. But, that's what love is, right? It aches.  

He combs his fingers through your hair, whispering words that you'll never know what they mean. "Estoy obsesionado contigo. Si no puedo abrazarte por el resto de mi vida, entonces no tengo vida que esperar. Si no es en tus brazos donde muero, será en ese maldito coche de carreras, aunque tenga que asegurarme de ello."  

Taglist is open, just ask!

[kerryweaverlesbian]

The Bunker kitchen is always cold, but it's at its coldest at the crack of dawn. Staring down into his creamed coffee, Dean wonders if 45 is old enough to slough off the habit of a lifetime and start sleeping in til at least 8, but then he remembers the nightmares he got the last time he tried messing with his sleep cycle. Maybe what he really needs is an extra pair of socks.

"I have something for you."

Dean looks up from his cup and smiles sleepily at Cas, who'd paused to get dressed when Dean had slumped directly to the kitchen in his pjs. He still wears his suit, tie and trench coat ensemble, thoroughly overdressed for 6.30 in the morning, but he still hadn't bothered to brush his hair. Mr Contrarian. He's adorable.

"I thought gifts were later," Dean says, instead of fawning. He has some dignity left. Somewhere.

"Big ones are."

"2 o' clock? No surprises?" Dean challenges - after his 40th, when he'd knocked Sam out thinking he'd been possessed with how shifty he'd been acting trying to hide the big party, Dean's (quite reasonably, he thinks) insisted on a strict birthday itinerary of his own devising.

"No surprises," Cas promises. He pulls his hand out of his coat pocket and puts a tape down on the table, flat, and slides it across to Dean with two fingers.

It's simply labeled in Cas’s looping cursive: For Dean. Dean picks it up and flips it over, no more information on the back.

"I wasn't sure if you'd like it," Cas explains needlessly, and Dean can see him fidgeting in his periphery. Cute. "I know you like to 'pick the music' but I thought you might appreciate knowing some that make me think of you."

"I like it," Dean assures him, glancing up to grin at him, and he's glad to see Cas’s shoulders relax.

"Good. It would have been very awkward if you didn't."

"Yeah, and you're never awkward," Dean teases, and gets a suspicious squint for it that pivots quickly into a fond eyeroll. "Can I play it now?"

"Oh," Cas says, sounding surprised, "Yes."

He vanishes for a second and then blinks back with one of their cassette players, one of those flat, black, functional things that star in 70s cop shows. There was a little puffy sticker of a stegosaurus on it from Jack's sticker phase.

"Ever heard of goodbye?" Dean complains unseriously, and happily accepts the sweet kiss Cas offers as he passes the player over.

Cas doesn't dignify him with a response, but he does stay close, hovering over Dean’s like a warm shadow as he sets the tape in and hits Play. There's a few seconds of staticky silence, and then, surprisingly, a recording of Cas’s voice comes rumbling out of the speaker.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus. Adiuramus te, cessa decipere humanas creaturas-"

"Cas," Dean says, hitting Pause, "why am I listening to you doing an exorcism? Where's the rock'n'roll?"

"You like things that are practical. You're welcome." He says it with such sincere, smug certainty that he'd gotten it completely right that Dean can't help but laugh.

"So you made me an exorcism mix-tape?"

"It's helpful."

"Sentimentality, thy name is Castiel." Dean kisses Cas’s knuckles, delighted with him, "I thought you said there were songs on here."

"They're on the other side."

"This whole side is just you chanting?"

"Not all of it," Cas says, and leans over Dean's shoulder to skim through with the fast-forward. He lands expertly near the end, which should not be as sexy to Dean as it is. The Cas recording finishes his latin, then there's a long pause, and then:

"I expect you saved them by now. Or they died." A smaller pause, then Cas adds, at an afterthought, "Hopefully the former. Dean, I love you."

Click. End of the tape. It's only when Cas’s hand comes up gently to his cheek that he realises he'd shed a tear.

"Dean," Cas says, with his infinite tenderness, half wonder, half exasperation.

"Just caught me off guard," Dean protests weakly, swiping under his eye roughly (but careful not to dislodge Cas’s hand).

For around the first 6 months after Cas’s return, Dean couldn't hear an "I love you" without bursting into tears. He'd gotten better with it in the years following, but but sometimes it still hit. Like now. Cas knew that he'd only be using this side of the tape in an all the way fucked up situation, and he'd given him a small, unnecessary kindness. Another one - a charming little kiss is pressed to his forehead.

"What'd I do to get you, Cas?" Dean marvels out loud, and Cas leans back to frown at him, still holding his face in his wide hands.

"Quite a lot," Cas deadpans, and that sets Dean off laughing again.

He grabs Cas’s wrist to smack a kiss to his palm, and then to pull himself upright, his other hand blindly flipping the tape over and starting up the music side. As the opening Auoooghs of Gin Wigmore's Black Sheep starts up, Dean tugs Cas to dance with him to it, uncoordinated and unrestrained.

"Dancing wasn't in the plan" Cas notes dryly, but he lets Dean sing to his tie like it's a microphone anyway, and Dean can tell he's biting back a smile.

"Screw the plan! It's my birthday!"

"It's your birthday plan."

"Exactly, so I get to change it." Dean stops Cas arguing back by kissing him, which only works about 40% of the time, but this, it seems, is one of those times. "I love you, man."

"I love you too. Happy birthday, Dean."

The affection in Cas’s gaze warms Dean all the way down to the very tips of his toes. It is a happy birthday. Almost as good as all the ones after it.

[sanjoongie]

💔Pairing: Host! Park Seonghwa x Reader (f)

💔Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

💔Au: ex-idol au, host au

💔Trope: lovers to ex's

💔Word Count: 3,120

💔Warnings: drinking, drinking and driving, seonghwa wanting to get into readers pants, seonghwa breaking readers heart

💔Rated: 18+ MDNI

💔Summary: Seonghwa can't help but visit all the places that remind him of you

💔Author's Note: immediately inspired by Seonghwa's cover of Vaundy's Odoriko. Seonghwa and Angst goes hand in hand so hopefully you can enjoy this new year's instant inspiration!

Seonghwa slowly pulls out of sleep and wearily reaches across the bed. He pats his hand against a cold mattress before he regains enough thought to remember-- you're not here. 

He sighs deeply and brings back his hand to his chest. He hates when he wakes up like this; like he still expects you to be in the bed with him.

But he's awake now. He doesn't bother to look at the time. He just goes through the motions of his broken heart. He dresses in all black like he's mourning the loss of you. He gets in his car and starts to drive.

The street lights are blurry at best and he wonders for a moment if he was still drunk and hasn't slept it off yet. Despite this, he still manages to drive across the bridge and find the spot where you two had met.

🌟🌟🌟

You were walking back from an impromptu trip to the convenience store when you noticed the same damn guy that was always drunk at this time of night leaning against a building. You had passed him so many times during the warmer months that he was practically a feature on the street, like the lamps. It was getting cold however, summer turning into fall, and you knew you couldn't let him do it again.

“Hey guy,” You shouted. “You can’t sleep here.”

The guy’s eyelashes fluttered but his eyes didn't open. 

You sighed and tried again. You put a hand on his shoulder and shook him. His head moved around listlessly with the motion. “You have to wake up and go home!”

The guy mumbled under his breath but you couldn’t seem to catch what he said. Instead, his head fell forward and settled on your shoulder. You sighed deeply. 

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere warmer. Maybe you’ll wake up and drink some water and sober up.”

How you managed to tug the lanky guy up and get him to lean on you, bewildered you. You almost fell over, with his weight pushing you to the asphalt, but you gained your balance just in time. Thankfully, your apartment wasn’t too far up the stairs and the guy knew enough to put one foot in front of the other and climb up with you.

By the time you dumped him in your hallway and took off both your shoes, you’re exhausted. So was he, apparently, because no amount of insistence got him to wake up and consume anything. He simply sat, legs at odd angles, smiling to himself as he drunk-slept. 

You sat on your couch, eating your snacks and watching your show. Your eyes were drawn back to the drunk guy still at the base of your door. Your anxiety catched up with your kindness. You couldn’t possibly put this guy back outside, it has gotten colder as the hours have passed. But you couldn't just leave him…

In a fit of overthinking, you used the tie to your morning robe and tied him up to your shoe rack. You felt better going to sleep knowing he couldn't assault you or steal anything. 

“What the hell?” A loud shout woke you and it all came back to you quickly. The drunk man in your hallway must have woken up.

You rushed out of your bedroom to the living room and barely missed a shoe being thrown at you. 

“You better not be some crazy ex-fan because I will not stop yelling until someone calls the police!” 

You held your hands up defensively. “Chill, guy, I just couldn't let you sleep outside. I’ll untie you right now, just don’t throw my shoes around.”

The guy watched you with a glare as you shuffled to his figure and moved to untie his hands. Once he was free, he rubbed his wrists and stared at you balefully. “Bullshit. No one is that nice.”

You shrugged and left him for a moment. You came back with a bottle of water and his eyes widened a fraction. “Drink some water, you’ll need it after how drunk you were last night.”

The guy tilted his head, confusion written all over his face. “Why would you help me?”

You ducked your head. “I’ve seen you fall asleep in that same spot all summer. It’s too cold for you to do that anymore, ‘kay? Just go home.”

The guy stood up and you were reminded how much taller he was than you. “I…thank you…” he smiled shyly.

You took a step back and waved your hands in front of you. “Oh no no, no thanks required.”

“Here, this is my card. If you ever feel like I can pay you back, go to this place. First rounds on me.”

You took his card, because it was the only polite thing to do, but you frowned at his words. “Really? Drinks are on you?”

As per the card, his name was Park Seonghwa, apparently. 

Seonghwa chuckled. “It is a bar, after all. It’s the least I can do. Give you a fun night to remember after dealing with my drunk ass.”

It felt like his charm was sinking into you so you pushed him out the door with a gentle goodbye.

🌟🌟🌟

Seonghwa’s head hits the wall of that exact same spot you found him at that fateful night. He knows you won’t pass here--in fact, you’re most likely avoiding it at this moment. He’d do anything to see you again. 

When the memories of you seem to float away, he chases the feeling and moves back to his car. He sits on the pavement on the passenger’s side of the car and contemplates what happens next. 

He pulls out his phone, looking through photos of you. He has so many of you, he has to laugh at himself a little at the absurdity of it. Some are photos you let him take of you two together, faces squished and photos blurry because of the laughter and his shaky hand. But the ones he cherishes the most are ones he took candidly, ones you didn’t even know he took…

🌟🌟🌟

You couldn't get Seonghwa out of your head. So you found yourself at the address that was on his card. You were a bit dumbfounded to find yourself outside of a host bar, however.

A shaggy haired man greeted you with a toothy grin and an enthusiastic tone. “Good evening, Miss, and welcome to Selfish Waltz. Do you have someone in mind this evening, or should I show you our roster?”

“Ah, um, is Seonghwa available?” You wondered.

The greeter's grin grew broader. “What an excellent choice! Seonghwa is quite popular. I’ll get you a booth with him immediately.”

“Uh--” 

The shaggy haired guy paused, looking at you before he left. “Can you just tell him it’s the girl he gave his card to? I’m not here for the reasons you think I am.”

He let out a high pitched laugh. “Honey, you’re all here for the same thing.” Shaking his head, he continued back into the club, hopefully finding Seonghwa for you. 

You heard your name being shouted down the dark hall with the neon lights along the floor. Seonghwa rushed down to greet you. His smile was happy and genuine. “You made it! I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I…” You gathered your courage and plunged through what was about to be an awkward conversation. “You could have said you worked at a host bar, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa pushed his hands into his slack’s pockets, not meeting your gaze now. “I wanted you to come.”

You sighed and pushed aside any anxiety you had at that moment. You owed it to Seonghwa to let him treat you. He looked so happy you were here. “It better be expensive. The first round, I mean. Because you owe me from that night, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa nodded eagerly. He grabbed your hand and ushered you down the hallway, towards the soft, pulsating base coming from hidden speakers. “It is. You’ll have fun, I promise.”

Even though you only had the one shot, you found that you had a lot of fun with Seonghwa. True to his job, he made you feel like you were the centre of attention. He made you laugh and you felt the charm of him pushing against your walls again. You weren’t entirely sure how much of it was Seonghwa and how much of it was his job but…

“I’m glad I came,” You said softly.

Seonghwa’s eyes softened. “I’m glad you came too.”

You put on a bright smile, preparing to separate permanently. “Thank you for repaying me. I hope you succeed in the future.”

Seonghwa frowned as you stood up. “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye forever?”

You chuckled under your breath. “I’m sorry I can’t be a future customer, Seonghwa. I don’t have money to throw around.”

Seonghwa grabbed your hand and folded it in between both of his. “Then don’t be my customer.”

“What?”

“Wanna go on a date with me?” Seonghwa stared at you, eyebrows furrowing slightly, waiting for your response.

“Seonghwa, I'm serious, you don't have to--”

“--I haven't felt this good in a long time,” he confessed. 

You pushed your hair behind your ear. “I'd like that.”

🌟🌟🌟

A lump forms in Seonghwa’s throat as he drives in his car. He can't stand it anymore, he has to see you again.

His eyes go blurry again but he's not worried about being half drunk anymore. His tears cloud his vision and he dashes them away angrily. He has no right to feel like this after the way he treated you.

“Please be home, please be home,” Seonghwa chants as he pulls off the highway.

His heart is in his throat as he follows the familiar turns to get to your place. He parks down the street, worried you'll see his car and brace yourself against him.

As he makes his way to your apartment. He stumbles a bit, as if his feet are trying to tell him this is a bad idea. But he's too determined to see your face again; regardless of how you'll react to him.

He raises his hand to knock on the door, his gut eating itself, as he remembers the first time he was sober and you let him in…

🌟🌟🌟

“Ah yes,” Seonghwa said with amusement. “My old friend, the shoe rack.”

Your face heated up with embarrassment. “Shut up, Seonghwa, I didn't know what to do with you!”

Seonghwa's lips twisted into a crooked side grin. “I could think of a few things you could have done with me.”

You picked up on the crudeness of his statement and got even more worked up. “Can you drop it? God, it's like you--” You narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend, who was looking quite pleased with himself. “Are you deliberately trying to get me worked up?!”

Seonghwa wound his arms around you, pulling your body flush with his own. “It turns me on when you get angry with me.”

You slapped him on the chest and he let out a belly laugh. “Park Seonghwa!”

Slowly, Seonghwa walked you towards your bedroom, keeping you within the enclosure of his arms. “Come on. We always fuck at my place.” 

You scrunch your nose up in distaste. “That's because I don't want to fuck you at my place. It's too close to your work and you always smell like another woman’s perfume.”

Seonghwa’s nose nudged the space just below your ear, on your neck. You could feel his grin against your skin before he placed a kiss there. “Well, I want to fuck you at your place with another woman’s perfume on me. Feels taboo; like I’m cheating.”

“Seonghwa!” You admonished him a second time. “Seriously, what is wrong with you?”

By now, your boyfriend has managed to get you into your bedroom. “If we’re quick, I can have you in my t-shirt and on the couch and we can finish that episode we were watching last time with some cake.”

“Are you seriously bribing me with sweets so you can get it in?” You pushed his shoulder, so you could make eye contact and send a look of good-natured bewilderment his way.

“You want me to turn on my host charm instead?” Seonghwa said with a shit-eating grin.

You avoided his question with one of your own. “Are you living out a fantasy right now? Is that what this is? Coming home to your woman and distracting her with your wiles even though you smell like another woman?”

“Help me get the taste of that other woman from my tongue,” Seonghwa purred, tilting his head for a kiss.

You pressed your hand to his chest to stop him and he did, only a hairsbreadth from your lips. “You are going to stop this right now.”

“Of course, Lover,” Seonghwa purred again, and pushed his lips to yours.

🌟🌟🌟

“Please, Lover, let me see your face,” Seonghwa wails as he knocks on your door.

You’re not answering and he’s getting desperate. 

“Seonghwa… you can’t be doing this again…”

Your voice comes out tiny from the other side of the door and Seonghwa’s heart leaps at the sound of it.

He presses his face to your door, the cool wood relieving some of the heat of his face. “I don’t have to bother the neighbours if  you just let me in,” He cajoles.

“No.” Your voice sounds so frail. “I’m not falling for that.”

“Please. I won’t pull any tricks or try to tempt you. I just need to see your face. Please.” Seonghwa’s teeth dig into his bottom lip to stop it from trembling.

There’s silence on the other end and Seonghwa is terrified that you’ve left him. But it was worse than that. “You deserve better, like you said. Go spend time finding her. Leave me alone.”

Seonghwa can’t stop the tears that stream down his face as he hears his own words thrown back at him. He never meant to hurt you. You had done nothing but shine a light into his dim world…

🌟🌟🌟

You were waiting for Seonghwa at his place. You had already planned to meet up after his shift. You wished you hadn't

Seonghwa slammed his door closed after entering. He didn’t say a word to you but as he passed by, he reeked of alcohol. You told yourself it was just because he had a high paying client but when you watched him spend too many minutes struggling to take off his leather jacket, you knew you were lying to yourself.

“Bad day?” You offered sympathetically.

Seonghwa blew a raspberry but let you help him with his jacket. “I had a stupid old fan come find me today.”

You winced. As an ex-idol who failed miserably, Seonghwa had turned his ability to charm women into a career while working at a host club. What seemed like a smart idea at the time, cashing in on his fanbase to continue to support him although he couldn't be an idol, was really starting to hurt him now in his later years of life. Any fan that visited him at the host club only reminded Seonghwa of his failed dream.

“Seonghwa, maybe you should think about finding another job,” You murmured, pressing a cool hand to his hot face.

Seonghwa opened his eyes and glared at you balefully. “I only have my face and my charm to make money. Who’s gonna hire me? Do you want to move to the coast and I’ll work on a fishing boat for you? Would that make you happy?”

You let your hand fall from his face and leaned back from his harsh words. “That’s not what I meant. That place isn’t good for you mentally and--”

Seonghwa tipped his head back and laughed bitterly. “What, suddenly I’m not good enough for you? Don’t want to tell anyone about your host boyfriend? Tired of smelling other women’s perfume on me?”

“No! Seonghwa!” He was drunk, you told yourself, he didn’t mean any of it.

“I should be a famous idol by now!” Seonghwa shouted. He stood up, barely keeping his balance. “I deserved better than this shitty life! I should have a celebrity girlfriend who I spoil with designer clothes, not--”

You let out a noise of hurt and that finally interrupted Seonghwa’s monologue. His eyes slowly turned to you and it took him a moment for everything to sink in. What he said. The tears in your eyes. “Shit.”

You stood up quickly, taking Seonghwa’s leather jacket that you had folded up on your lap and placing it carefully on his couch. “I should go.”

“I--”

You breathed in and out deeply. “No, you’re right, Seonghwa. You deserve better. I never should have let you convince me that we should go on that date. I knew better, I truly did, but I thought you were being honest with me. For once.” 

Seonghwa winced at your shot that he was never himself. Did he even know where host Seonghwa ended and the real Seonghwa began?

You met his eyes and smiled so cheerfully but the tears were threatening to escape now. “You can tell everyone that I broke up with you. That way, the girls at the club will sympathize with you.”

“No, wait, I--” Seonghwa reached out to stop you but you nimbly moved out of his grasp. He was too drunk.

“For what it’s worth… I hope the pretend happiness you felt with me distracted you from your pain sometimes.”

And with that you were gone.

🌟🌟🌟

Seonghwa wakes up and reaches across his bed for you. The cold mattress meets his palm and he wonders if you’ve gotten up to take a shower without him. He smiles to himself, moving to lay on his back. He wonders if you’ll shriek if he joins you. He--

Seonghwa sits up and runs a hand through his hair. You aren’t in his shower. You aren’t in his apartment. You aren't even in his life right now and it’s all his fault. 

He falls backwards, letting his head hit the pillow dramatically. 

Maybe if he parks outside of your work with a bouquet of flowers, you’ll not ignore him when you see him. Maybe he could convince you to let him back in your life.

Or maybe he can just get drunk enough that he couldn't remember you or not drunk enough so he can recall how your hair felt between his fingers when he played with it. 

Seonghwa had thought that his idol past was the true regret of his life but he knew losing you was worse.

[bluegalaxygirl]

Obsession's Grip (Zosan X Reader) P5

Plot: After saving some of the straw hat crew from a prison, the crew help takes a young man away so he can have a fresh start in life. He's shy but seems to grow attached to Reader in an unhealthy way.

Warning: Bad language and Violence.

Reader is Female (Sorry), Zoro X Sanji X Reader, Poly relationship, established relationship. Reader has the ability to control the snake tattoos on her arms that come alive when she commands, they can change size and are connected to her emotions.

P1 - P2 - P3 - P4 - P6 - P7 - P8 - P9 - P10 - P11 - P12 - P13 - P14

The morning sun hits your eyes making you groan, rolling over you go to put your arm around one of your boys only to remember where you are and what happened yesterday. Your headache is gone leaving your mind a bit clearer but your chest still hurts, you can't tell if its emotional or physical though. Sitting up you notice Nami and Robin sleeping in the other bed meaning it's very early, Sanji's most likely up by now and the thought of talking to him pops into your head. You know you need too and now would be the best time since you'll both be busy today with docking at a new island this afternoon. Getting up you get dresses and wash your face cleaning off yesterdays tears all while trying to be quiet in order not to wake up the two girls, this time also gives you a chance to think over everything and hopefully get your head and heart in the right place before talking to Sanji and Zoro. A lot of what Percy said yesterday rang true, starting off with Sanji you know he flirts with every woman he see's and its never bothered you because you know the reason behind it, he wants to make every girl feel happy and some times a compliment or a smile can easily do that. It does scare you that a woman will flirt back and try to get him in bed or something, thats the part that hurts but you've seen it happen and how Sanji reacts. He'll still be nice to that woman but tone it down and either take your hand or start complimenting you as well and if Zoro is there the swordsman will drag the cook away even if he's in the middle of a conversation.

When it comes to Nami and Robin you have no problem with Sanji taking care of them since you know for a fact the two aren't interested in him in any way and wouldn't hurt you. You love the girls, and they deserve so much after everything they've both been through, the heart eyes, swaying over and getting what they need is Sanji's way of showing them how much he cares, of course the cook does it to you some times, it's not as often anymore so Percy wouldn't have seen that. Sanji doesn't always greet you like the other girls instead you get kisses, hugs and those soft loving eyes, your heart melts just thinking about them. Thinking back to the other day when Robin was doing Percy's hair Sanji did complement your work, yes he praised Robin more than you but the black haired woman is so skilled at that job and plus, you don't need praise when he looks at you with such love, the way his thumb ran over your cheek makes you swoon. Then there's Zoro, yes he's quiet and aloof, he doesn't show affection around anyone outside the crew but thats because he doesn't like strangers looking, Percy is a stranger so of course he won't see the way Zoro holds you and Sanji or hear his cocky and teasing comments. The swordsman is more than happy to hold and kiss you with the crew around since he trusts them and knows they won't judge your relationship unlike outsiders. As for the faking being unable to navigate is something you should have laughed at, there's no way Zoro fakes getting lost, you know he can't read a map and even if he could be would still get lost, there's no way he's faking it just to go off with some random woman that he doesn't know or trust.

When Zoro trains with your snakes you do sit and watch if you have the time but yesterday you were behind on jobs so even though it was training day you deiced to do the garden. Of course Zoro wanted you to stay and watch mainly, so he can show off, but he isn't pushy unless your in danger, if you need to do something he might complain about it, but he'll let you go. Percy didn't wait to see what the swordsman does after, Zoro will bring your snake back and if your tired he'll carry you to take a nap with him or bring you to the kitchen, he won't let you walk. He'll tell you all about the training and how amazing your ability is while thanking you and showering you in hugs and kisses, Zoro doesn't take advantage of you and has never hurt your snake on purpose. You mentally kick yourself for even thinking they would cheat on you, what Percy said was false and your sure to have a stern word with him later about it, your kind and understanding but you won't let some stranger who hardly knows your boys to insult them and comment on your relationship but first you need to apologise to Sanji, Zoro, Nami and Robin for all the trouble and hopefully clear things up. Looking back at the girls still sleeping you give them a smile before heading out the door making sure to close it quietly. The morning sun feels great on your skin bringing you a sense of happiness while walking across the deck to the kitchen "Miss Y/n" You stop in your tracks hearing Percy running up to you, taking in a breath you calm yourself before having to talk to him.

Turning your cross your arms over your chest while looking over the worried young man "I'm so sorry about yesterday, i didn't mean to upset you with all my questions, i was just curious" The young man bows while panicking a little, yes the questions bothered you but what he said about your boys bothered you more. You want to scold him, but he's been through hell and your worried yelling or being too harsh will make him scared of you, when you don't answer Percy looks away from you starting to become shy "I really am sorry, you were so kind to me and i… I was rude, not only with asking you all those questions but also commenting on two people i hardly know" The young man takes a step closer to you while taking in a deep breath "I was worried" Raising an eyebrow at him you wait for him to continue wondering why he would be worried about you or your relationship, rubbing the back of his head Percy looks down at the floor "Your really kind and understanding, i don't want anyone to take advantage of that. My mother did that to my farther so i.. I feel a little protective over people like you. I know i hardly know the two but i can't help seeing what i see. I could be wrong and misunderstand their actions so i'm sorry for stepping out of place" You can't help but stare as he rambles on, its true Percy has no idea what Sanji and Zoro are like, but he seems to realize that. There is a part of you that feels off about this though, he apologised yet still thinks he's right about what he said.

Pushing all of that away for now you might as well just take his apology so you can talk to Sanji before the rest of the crew wakes up "I appreciate you trying to look out for me but their nothing like your mother, they don't take advantage of me, and they would never cheat on me, i think its best if you don't comment any further" You state turning your back to him starting to head up the stairs only for him to grab your hand, anger boils up in you as you yank your hand away, turning to face the young man your ready to yell at him but stop when seeing him flinch while his hand blocks his face. Your heart breaks seeing him like this, Did he think you were going to hit him? your angry yes, but you wouldn't hurt him unless he attacked you "I-I'm sorry, i'm not going to hurt you, i just… I won't hurt you" You sigh stepping down the stair and taking his hand lightly in yours, he flinches again at your touch but relaxes when you pull his hand down from his face to give it a light pat "I'm a little angry that you would jump to conclusions about them, you've only just met them, you know nothing about them. I think its best if you stay away from me and my boys for a while, until everything calms down and emotions aren't as high" Patting his shoulder you head back up the stairs leaving Percy to stand there and think. You don't feel like he's a bad person, his past seems to have a big hold on him and how he see's other relationships. You know Sanji and Zoro will be mad after you tell them about what happened so warning Percy beforehand to stay away will hopefully make things easier for everyone.

Walking into the kitchen your happy to see only two people, Brook at the table drinking his morning tea and Sanji in the kitchen, the bags under his eyes means he didn't sleep well last night or maybe not at all. It seems he didn't notice you walk in since he's so focused on the food he's frying up, the unlit cigarette in his mouth dangling almost falling out, you can't tell if its because he's tired or if his mind is else where. Brook gives you a wave before pointing to the door secretly asking if he should go, not wanting to cause a scene you shake your head while giving him a smile, the skeleton nods in response going back to drinking his tea. Walking around the counter you manage to get the cook's attention "Sanji-" Your cut off when the blonde's head shoots your way starting at you in shock, then happiness and then finally panic as he quickly turns off the stove and throws his cigarette away to give you his full attention. "My love i'm so sorr-" Sanji gulps taking a few steps to meet you only for your arms to wrap around his neck pulling the blonde into you for a hug "No, i'm sorry, none of this is your fault" You whisper hoping to calm him down and keep the conversation between the two of you, relaxing into you Sanji wraps his arms around your waist while burring his head into your neck "I'm sorry for all the trouble i caused yesterday, i promise I'll explain later when its just the three of us. None of this is yours or Zoro's fault" You sigh stroking his hair as his hold tightens not wanting to let you go, the cook's chest still hurts at your actions but mainly because he's worried, with what Nami said, how your snake acted and your refusal to see them at all let him know you were beyond upset.

After a while of holding you close confirming to himself that you are actually here and in his arms and not a figment of his imagination, Sanji pulls away to look at you but keeps his arms around your waist. Smiling up at him you run your hands from the back of his neck to his cheeks cupping them while rubbing his soft skin with your thumbs. "Are you alright my love? are you hurt? Did you eat last night? Do you need anything?" The blonde whispers placing his forehead against yours, sighing you know he's worried but the constant questions bring you back to yesterday making you tense up a bit "I'm sorry my love" Sanji pulls away unsure of what made you tense up all of a sudden, trying to relax you wrap your arms around his neck again placing your head in his neck "I can't take constant questions at the moment, my minds still a little… could i have some tea?" You ask pulling away hoping it will help you wake up and calm down, nodding Sanji gives you a smile while placing a kiss on your forehead that you lean into "Of course my love" letting you go the cook rushes off to make you some tea while you lean against the counter looking down at the pan on the stove, before you know it a cup of tea is placed next to you as the blonde's hand runs up your side "Would you like some?" Nodding at his question the cook places a kiss on your cheek, turning the heat back on Sanji gets back to cooking a smile on his face now instead of that gloomy look. "Mind if i stay here?" You ask picking up your cup of tea and blowing on it.

The cook happily nods glad that your wanting to be around him, it also conforms that your not mad or upset with him like he thought last night. Putting a plate down next to you Sanji places another kiss on your forehead missing your touch, rubbing his arm you lean into it also missing his touch "I love you" You whisper once he pulls away, cupping your face the blonde gives you those loving soft eyes that makes your heart melt immediately healing any and all heart ache from last night "I love you too, Mi amour" Sanji whispers back but doesn't make a move to kiss you in case you don't want that, putting your cup down you hold his hands to your face enjoying his warm and soft hands before leaning closer placing a kiss on his lips. The cook relaxes into the kiss while humming in delight his thumbs caressing your cheeks, pulling away you both linger close to each other for a while before separating fully so you can eat and Sanji can get back to cooking. More and More of the crew arrive and soon even Percy joins mainly being dragged in my Luffy and Usopp who are both excited about the island their docking at later today, although you don't know if its inhabited or not yet. The door to the kitchen opens once more raveling a very tired Zoro who's still in his sleeping bottoms, running a hand through his messy hair and yawning the swordsman heads into the kitchen area hoping for some coffee but stops in his tracks when noticing you leaning against the counter looking him over. The swordsman gulps looking from you to the cook hoping to find out if it's ok to approach or not.

The look of slight panic and confusion is clear on his face so you push off the counter and step over to him "I'm sorry Zo" You whisper wrapping your arms around his neck, Zoro instantly latches onto you wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you tightly into him "Fuck baby, you had me worried. What the hell happened?" Despite his sigh of relief to have you in his arms the swordsman was still tense, holding him just as tight you run your hand into his hair while placing a kiss on his neck "I'm sorry i worried you but I'll explain later, When its just us three alone. You and Sanji didn't do anything wrong, i just needed time to get my head in the right place" You whisper pulling away to place a hand on his cheek, looking closely at his face you can see he had a restless night. Zoro leans into your touch while keeping a tight hold around your waist not wanting you to pull away from him "I understand that you needed time but don't worry us like that. I love you baby" Smiling at his words you lean in and lightly kiss his lips "I love you too, Zoro" You whisper back against his lips before kissing them again, the swordsman smiles into the kiss while kissing back finally relaxing his body. Sanji smiles at the two of you while putting a cup of coffee down and plate of food "Come on, before it gets cold" The cook comments with a small laugh, pulling away you kiss his lips a few times before trying to pull away but his hold stays tight around you "Let me hold you… just a little longer" Its rare for the swordsman to beg especially with the crew present.

It catches you off guard making you stand there and stare at him for a minute, but he doesn't let go, snapping out of your shock a sigh escapes your lips but your smile remains giving him a nod. Backing you up to the counter Zoro refuses to let go of you for even a second, one hand tightly around you while the other grabs his coffee "Thanks" The swordsman smirks at the cook who nods leaning over to lightly kiss the man before getting back to cooking. The three of you relax listening to the crew at the table all talking, laughing and eating, on occasions Sanji will walk over to deliver more food or fill up cups, as time went by the cook started looking at the clock making you slightly nervous "What's wrong?" You ask with your arms around Zoro who's holding you tightly with both arms, his chin resting on your shoulder to look over the crew behind you. Sanji sighs turning the stove off and whipping his hands "Nami and Robin aren't up yet, It's not a problem its just…. We're approaching an island soon, and we need Nami for that, i want to go and wake them but i also.. Don't want to leave you" The blonde steps closer placing his hand on your cheek, taking his hand you place a kiss on his palm "I'll be here when you get back, i'm not going anywhere. Plus waking up to you is a treat" You smirk seeing the cook start to blush at your words making you giggle, Sanji wipes his nose as a bit of blood trickles out before kissing your cheek "Your too sweet my love" The cook smiles while starting to make some tea and food for the girls.

You were too distracted with the cook to feel the eyes on you but Zoro noticed, looking over your shoulder the swordsman's eyes land on Percy sitting in between Usopp and Chopper who where talking loudly but the young man just sits there his eyes on you and your interaction with the cook. It didn't bother Zoro too much since it looks like the young man was just staring off into space with a blank expression, his mind most likely else where but that changed when the cook kissed you. A slight growl leaves the swordsman's lips as Percy's jaw clenches, his eyes narrow and nostrils flair clearly pisses, as Sanji walks away from you the young man glares at the cook his hands gripping the knife on the table. Zoro tenses while releasing you from his hold ready to jump in if need be, the world around him goes quiet unable to hear your concern at his sudden action. The swordsman's eyes are fixed on Percy who slowly starts to relax while letting go of the knife and turning his attention to the group talking around him. "Zoro?" You ask concerned placing a hand on his chest trying to push him off you, the swordsman finally snaps out of his predatory gaze to look down at you seeing the position he's put you in. His hands gripping the counter either side of you the muscles in his arms tight locking in place, his heaving chest presses up against you pinning you to the counter to the point where your hips dig into the edge making it more uncomfortable. His angry energy making you gulp as he looms over you but his eyes widen in shock before stepping back "Sorry baby" Zoro panics his white knuckled hands releasing the counter.

Sanji walks over placing the try of drinks and food down he was going to give to the girls before noticing what was going on "What is wrong with you?" The cook asks with a mix of concern and anger, looking over at the cook Zoro takes another step back only for you to grab his hand, you couldn't see what the swordsman was looking at but something clearly got his blood thirsty attention, the look on his face before scared you a little since you've only seen it a hand full of times, usually ending up with someone dead. "I'm sorry, I'll tell you later" Zoro sighs his eyes going back to Percy who's laughing and joking with the crew like nothing happened, Sanji raises his eyebrow while looking at the table. You do the same but quickly look back wondering if it was Percy who upset Zoro, did the swordsman figure out it was him who made you upset or was it something else? "Try to calm down. I'll be back soon" Sanji pats the green haired man on the shoulder before picking up the tray and making his way out of the kitchen, Zoro nods leaning against the counter while keeping an eye on the table. He wanted to follow the cook, make sure nothing happens, but he also doesn't want to leave you so for now he'll watch the young man and if he makes a move to leave the swordsman will have no problem stopping him one way or the other. Rubbing Zoro's arm you lean close to him hoping to calm him down, the swordsman starts to relax but doesn't take his eye of the table, your happy that at least he's no longer looking to kill. Wrapping your arms around his waist you bury your head in his neck giving it a kiss as his arm moves around your waist the other tapping on the counter.

[halcyonfawn]

A small made-up whouffaldi kind-of-fanfiction based on this exchange from the first draft of "Mummy in the Orient Express"

Read on AO3 The Doctor and Clara are both stretching and yawning as they let themselves into neighbouring rooms.

"Well, I’m bushed. See you in the morning, Clara."

"Night, Doctor."

Clara pecks him on the cheek. When she pulls away, there's a trace of something red on the Doctor's face.

"Oh. You've got a-"

She pats herself on the cheek lightly.

"What?"

The Doctor seeks the answer in her eyes, but finds nothing there. Clara sighs.

"Lipstick. You've got a spot."

A frown. Then, he touches the wrong side of his face. She watches him trying to feel something there. All in vain, obviously. Eventually, Clara rolls her eyes and takes the matter into her own hands.

"God, let me do it-"

She attempts to destroy the evidence with her finger, but it's not coming off. She moves closer. Concentrates.

"Ah, I think I've made it worse…"

The Doctor is silent, watching her intensively. A strange feeling arises deep within his chest and goes up to his throat. Two hearts beat wildly against the ribcage. The feeling is familiar, but he can't quite put his finger on it.

When his breathing becomes ragged, Clara looks up. Their eyes meet. He stares. She freezes. They stay like that for a while until Clara speaks in a small voice:

"I think… some water might help to wipe this off…"

The Doctor takes a deep breath in.

"Good idea. Lucky to have a sink in my room."

"Everybody has a sink in their room."

"But not mirrors. And I'll need a mirror. D'you have a mirror?"

"No."

"You always carry a small glass circle with you fussing over it getting lost, and now, when it's needed, you don't have it. Humans."

"This dress has no pockets in it!"

"Well then you should take it off!"

There is an expression on Clara's face he hasn't learned yet. Neither does he understand why her nosetrills begin to inflate.

"Right," Clara manages to croak. "I-I'll see you tomorrow."

The Doctor nods but doesn't pull away. Neither does Clara. Instead, her gaze shifts from his eyes to his lips. Oh. There's this feeling again. And not a good one. Not in these circumstances. They stare at each other, breathless, exhausted, barely standing. They should really go to sleep.

And they do.

A few moments later, they're still breathless and exhausted, but this time a comfy bed is there to save them from falling. In fact, they have already fallen. A bunch of times.

The sink that the Doctor is lucky to have is dry. And, as it turns out, he didn't need a mirror because this "lip-stick" was now all over his body and he can't be bothered removing each red mark. It is called a lipstick for a reason, after all. Pretty sticky. On a good note, Clara took his advice and got rid of the useless piece of clothing. Rather ardently, he must add. She really likes having pockets and detests not having them.

"How did this even happen?"

"We said our last hurrah, then you put your lips on my cheek and some other places-"

"That was a rhetorical question."

They lay in silence until the Doctor finally remembers why that feeling wasn't appropriate for the situation.

"So. About PE-"

"You are not allowed to talk."