#i feel like I’ve dedicated an eternity to this but it’s only been a month????

[aurorawritestoescape]

BAD BLOOD part 6

Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Summary: a month after Joel exposed your relationship with Tommy, the Miller brothers pay you a visit and your feelings come to the surface.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, angst, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), dark!Joel, soft!Tommy with darkish vibes, edging, mfm, unprotected DVP, f!oral, ass slapping(2), handjob, multiple orgasms, creampies, cum eating, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, fingering, swearing. Joel can pick up reader. The pics are for the mood only. Reader has no specific physical descriptions.

Word count: 8,2k

A/n: this is the final part of the main story so I’m very emotional about it. I love these menaces. There’s going to be an epilogue and I’ll probably do some extra stories for them bc I can’t see myself letting them go🥹 dedicating this part to my everything @milla-frenchy ❤️ Thank you for being with me every step of the way! Your support, your help, your love for the characters (mainly Joel *coughs*slut) mean the world to me. Love you sm, baby!!💖🫂😘 big hug to @romanarose for answering my dorm-related questions!🫂 I’m grateful to everyone who’s read the series, liked, commented, rb-ed, sent asks about it. I’ve been overwhelmed with your love and I’m sending you some back💕Love you all!!❤️ Hope you’ll like this part! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Part 5 || SERIES MASTERLIST II Tommy’s Visit MASTERLIST

“I’m off, babe!” your roommate Mel says when you meet her at the dorm on the way to your room. She’s carrying a big sports bag, ready to drive to her parents’ house for the weekend.

“Oh! Your dad’s here. He’s in our room,” she nods in the direction of your suit and adds with a playful smile, “he’s hot!”

You furrow your brows, blinking at her with confusion.

“Dad? But.. He lives in Europe.”

“Ehm…Maybe it’s your stepdad then? He said he was your daddy.”

‘Daddy’. Your jaw drops and your heart plummets into your stomach.

“You ok?” Mel places her hand on your shoulder, with a worried expression. “You look… shook.”

“No, I’m fine… just surprised.”

You wave her goodbye with a strained smile and your weak legs carry you to your dorm room.

Your mind is racing and every step seems to last an eternity. You can’t believe he’s here. A mixture of guilt, fear and excitement fills your chest. What are you going to tell him?

You haven’t talked to Tommy in more than a month, scared to face him, to admit that you had ruined his life because of your desire. You hoped that he realized that Joel was the real villain of the story but you couldn’t deny that all that mess had started with you. After that horrible day, your mom flooded your phone with hateful messages, calling you a slut, a whore and a homewrecker. You didn’t pick up her calls which were rare. Apparently she didn’t want to hear your voice, just like you didn’t want to hear hers. Indifference filled your heart. You had already hated her for years, your relationship ruined long before you slept with her husband.

And Tommy…You couldn’t bear to hear him breaking up whatever thing you two had so you just blocked him. His hate would be too much for you. You had never felt anything like that before and you wanted to save those moments together untainted by his resentment.

You did the same with Joel’s number. But you pressed ‘block caller’ only after you phoned him and cursed the fucker out. How did he dare to drop a nuclear bomb on your life like that? Deep in your heart you knew that he had overplayed you in your own game and your pride was hurt. What made matters worse was your sickening yet undeniable desire for the bastard.

When you come up to your room, you see that the door is slightly ajar. He really is here. After taking a deep breath, you step into the room and find Tommy, sitting on your bed, elbows planted on his knees, your exercise book in his hands. He’s wearing a black shirt with a white tank top underneath and a pair of dark jeans. Your pussy tingles just from a sight of him, his big body, soft curls, but you drive away these thoughts, trying to concentrate on the goal that you set on the way here - to get him back.

Your stepdad raises his eyes to you. Is it a trace of smile on his lips? What if he doesn’t hate you after all? A slither of hope gives you much needed courage and you take a few steps towards him.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

Your voice is small and shaky and you hate it but it’s stupid to deny your overwhelming feelings for him.

Tommy gives you a little smile and throws your book back on your desk, next to your bed.

“I wanted to see you. We need to talk.”

“Yes, daddy,” you agree, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes at your stepdad.

“I didn’t think you’d call me that after blocking me.”

“I’m sorry, but… I was scared. I thought you hated me. But it’s not my fault. I had feelings for you and Joel used it. He ruined your life. I’d never do it.”

Tommy drops his head, rubbing his hands, and hums. You start seeing red as soon as your step uncle's name leaves your lips and your anger spills out.

“That fucker secretly took the photo and sent it to our fucking family chat?! Who the fuck does that? Is he insane?”

Tommy looks up at you and then his gaze slides to the side, somewhere behind you, before he says,

“You can ask him yourself, sweetheart.”

For a second time your heart jumps in your chest, when a pair of strong arms grabs you from behind and you sense a broad chest pressed tightly to your back. Startled, you are about to scream, but a huge hand claps over your mouth.

“Surprise, angel,” Joel gruffs in your ear while his arm squeezes your waist. You thrust and shake but all your attempts to break free are fruitless against his strength.

“Keep wriggling, baby, I love feeling your ass, grinding against my dick.”

He hums and pushes his hips into you. You sense his huge bulge and your pussy tingles when you remember what he can do with this cock. Joel’s scent envelops you just like his body and you gush. Yet your hatred for the man overpowers your desire and you keep thrashing in his steel embrace. Your nostrils flare, and searching for help, your pleading eyes dart to Tommy.

To your surprise your stepdad doesn’t rush to help you— he sits up straighter and spreads his thighs wider, while his darkening eyes are sliding up and down your bound body, powerless in Joel’s arms.

You whine, realizing that he’s enjoying it, the view is turning him on. You’re getting worked up as well, feeling yourself small and helpless, fully at the mercy of the two men.

Joel’s arm, wrapped over your arms and under your chest, pushes your breasts up and they almost spill out of your neckline. You can feel your step uncle’s breath on your cleavage, and he’s groaning, probably enjoying the view of your tits. A new surge of arousal makes you press your thighs together. Are they gonna fuck you in your dorm room like it’s some raunchy porn? You really hope so.

Not being able to hide your desire any longer, you make a loud moan, muffled by the hand covering your mouth, but it still electrifies the air in the room, and both men grunt.

As much as you love Joel’s strong back and huge bulge pressed against you, scorching anger rises from the pits of your stomach again, and you try to push him off yourself. Tommy’s watching your weak attempts for a few seconds before taking pity on you.

“Let her talk, Joel.”

The older brother puts his hand away and you exclaim, wriggling in Joel’s arms, trying to break free.

“Let go of me, perv!”

"You had this perv's cock in your mouth and your ass not so long ago," he reminds you, not easing his grip.

"I'm not fucking proud!"

"You should be, angel. You took it like a champ both times."

He emphasizes his words with a thrust of his hips and you growl, trying to hide your arousal.

“Daddy, what the fuck? Why’s he here? Why didn’t you tell him to fuck off?”

Joel tightens his python-like embrace and gruffs in your ear,

“Blood is thicker than water, angel. But you and your “mummy didn’t let me host a party and now Ima fuck her husband” will never understand that.”

“It’s not…you know nothing about me, you asshole.” Your voice strains as the rage suddenly mixes with deep sadness. Trying not to burst into tears you grit your teeth as you explain,

“She ruined my whole life, drove my dad away. She cheated on him and now he’s not even talking to me, just sends money for college. It’s all because of that slut.”

Tommy drops his head and you know that he's feeling sorry for you right now. Your pride pangs but a ray of hope dries your upcoming tears - he cares, he still cares about you.

Joel on the other hand is not sympathetic in the slightest, commenting with a chuckle, "Damn, angel, you're a textbook example of daddy issues.

Not saying we ain't happy, right, brother?" He looks at Tommy and adds, "it got our dicks wet."

You begin thrashing harder and exclaim, “Fuck you!”

“Yeah, you will.”

“Let go of her, Joel,” Tommy commands, steel in his voice, and to your surprise, Joel follows his brother's order immediately.

You hurry away from your step uncle and stand closer to Tommy.

Your eyes dart between the men, as you’re fixing your bunched up clothes, panting heavily after trying to get free.

Joel grabs your chair, plops down and places his booted foot on the edge of your desk with a thud.

You’re glaring at him, trying to convey all disgust and hatred for the man with your expression, but Tommy sighs and your gaze darts to him.

“Daddy,” you whisper, taking a shy step in his direction.

His eyes freeze your heart. He looks serious, too serious for your liking.

Tommy leans on his knees again and starts talking, eyes moving between you and Joel.

“Joel is an asshole, sweetheart, you’re right. But what’s new? I’ve known him all my life and I understand what he’s capable of. Yes, he ruined my marriage but to be honest…I’m glad.”

Your jaw drops as you’re staring at your stepdad, and he continues,

“Life with Jess was suffocating me. I thought I needed to settle down, to start a family but I was wrong. I was happy in Austin. And she…fuck,” he shakes his head with a sigh, “She’s a lot. You’re the best person to know it.”

His eyes set on you and you see a genuine regret and sadness in them. You want to reach for him, hug him, kiss him but he needs you to listen. So you listen.

“In an absolutely horrible way, yes, but Joel helped me to get out of it. I’m gonna lose a lot of money in the settlement but it’s just money.”

“Shoulda got a prenup like I told you,” Joel mumbles.

The longer Tommy speaks, the more you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Wait! So now he’s your savior, huh? He manipulates you, Tommy! He says what you want to hear and then stabs you in the back!”

“Baby, the only thing I did behind your back is come in your ass,” Joel smirks and then points his thick finger at you, “And not you talking about fuckin’ loyalty! We had a deal but you weren’t gonna do shit with that recording! I saw your fuckin’ heart eyes. You’d never do it to your precious daddy so I had to do it my way. And it needed to be done!”

You narrow your eyes and clench your fists, barely holding yourself from hitting the man, as you exclaim,

“You sent the pic of me fucking my stepdad to my family group chat, you fucker! My nana’s there! She almost died after seeing that photo!

All you get from your step uncle is another bark of a laugh.

“Who gives a shit? She’s ancient.”

“You motherfuckin’…” you’re about to launch at the men but Tommy rushes up and steps between you and his older brother.

“Stop!” His hands are on your shoulders, his eyes kind and warm. “Calm down, sweetheart. Please.”

You take a deep breath and inch closer to him and Tommy doesn't push you away. He hugs you, pulling you closer to him, and rubs your back with his big hands. You immediately melt in his warm embrace with your cheek pressed to his chest, your arms wrapped around his waist. You bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut, fighting back tears as a mix of strong emotions- hate, love, desire, rage, fills your heart and you take a deep breath, wishing to find comfort and peace in your stepdad's arms.

You open your eyes and see Joel watching you two, his gaze piercing, expression pensive. You’d give a lot to know what he’s thinking about at the moment. Probably scheming again.

You turn your face away from him and press your cheek to Tommy’s chest.

Suddenly he pulls away and looks down at you, head tilted.

“You hurt me, baby. I needed you, and you left. Even blocked my number.”

You swallow loudly, shifting on your feet, as fear is rising in your chest again. With your eyes downcast, you mumble, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Are you willing to show us how sorry you are?” He sits back on the bed, manspreading, his gaze dark, intense.

“To you? Yes. But not to him!”

“Sweetheart.” His warning tone binds your pride and you stop fighting what you really want. What your pussy wants.

“Ok, daddy.”

A corner of Tommy’s mouth curves up a little and he says,

“Good girl. Take your clothes off.”

Joel groans and slightly shifts in his chair, making it squeak. You glance at him but your eyes return to Tommy.

You start discarding your clothes piece by piece, gaze locked with your stepdad and he drinks in every exposed part of your body. Your panties fall on the floor last and you step out of them.

Now you’re standing in your dorm room completely naked in a company of the two fully clothed older men. You’re already dripping, the wetness between your thighs is evident just to you for now but you desperately wish for them to discover it.

“We’ve talked enough about Joel. Let’s talk about you, babygirl.”

You feel your stomach twist, nervous about what he might say.

"Have you fucked anyone since you left?" Tommy asks, his expression serious.

"No."

Your stepdad's eyes are darting between yours, searching for any sign of you lying.

"Has anyone fucked you?"

You hate that he doesn't trust you but it's hard to blame him —he knows better than anyone how thirsty you're.

"No, daddy. I promise. I've... only been making myself come, thinking of you. All this time.”

You bite your lower lip and purr, "been imagining you fucking me. Your kisses. Your hands on me. Your cock in my mouth."

Tommy's chest expands and he squirms on the bed. You clasp your hands in front yourself and drop your head down, telling him the truth,

"I've missed you. Still miss you."

"Aww, how sweet," Joel mocks you with a laugh.

Tommy frowns at him and you shoot a fiery glance at the older brother for ruining the moment.

“What about your favourite uncle, angel? Have you fantasized about me?”

"No," you reply without hesitation through the gritted teeth.

"Don't lie," Tommy commands, his tone cold and demanding.

You avert your gaze from them both and look in front of yourself.

"Yes," you admit as your voice is barely audible,

"yes, I did."

Joel's smug grin is noticeable even from your peripheral vision.

"What was it about? Your fantasies?” Tommy asks.

"You both fucking my pussy."

"Damn, angel," Joel groans, palming himself.

“I know my pussy is off limits to Joel. I’m sorry for thinking about it, daddy.”

“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re allowed to imagine whatever you want.”

You inch closer to Tommy and his eyes slide down from your face to your breasts and then to your wet pussy.

Your stepdad licks his lower lip and a memory of him making you come on his tongue in the darkness of your bedroom overflows the glass of your desire and you kneel slowly between his legs.

“Sweetheart,” Tommy breathes out in surprise but spreads his legs wider for you.

“She remembers well where she belongs,” Joel comments as you feel his hungry gaze on your naked back and ass.

You place your palms on Tommy’s jean-clad thighs and sit on your heels, batting your lashes, before you lower your head to his crotch. You press your cheek to his huge warm bulge and whisper, “let me suck your cock, daddy. I want to apologize.”

Tommy takes a sharp breath and Joel whistles. You feel cold air on your naked pussy and squeeze your thighs together to relieve the ache in your needy center.

Then you nuzzle the stiff lump under his jeans and rub your nose and cheek over it. It twitches against you and a moan escapes your lips. Tommy bucks his hips against your head but then his hand on your cheek stops you.

“We have something else in mind for you, babygirl. You can’t deny that you deserve a punishment, right?”

You drop your eyes in agreement and Tommy continues.

“Your step uncle promised you something that morning when we ehm… had breakfast together.”

You hear the squeak of your chair and then Joel’s heavy steps. The older brother stands next to you two and you lift your head to look at him.

He’s looming over your body, tall and broad and your pussy throbs harder as your eyes involuntarily slide down from his handsome smug face to his broad chest and then huge bulge.

“Get your ass on the bed so I could eat your slutty pussy.”

You scream internally, keeping a straight face, and ask,

“Are you that bad that it’s considered a punishment?”

Joel shifts his jaw and gruffs,

“Let’s hope I won’t bite your clit off, brat.”

You wince and Tommy curses under his breath. Then he pulls you up from your knees and gets up too. You’re standing between the two men, burning up with desire to be used and Tommy doesn’t help you to calm down, when he starts taking off his shirt, leaving only his white tank top on and exposing his thick muscular arms. When you glance back you notice Joel is doing the same, and you softly moan at the sight of his broad torso in a mesh top.

“Moaning like a whore already,” Joel mocks you, stepping up to you and pressing his body to your back and ass.

You gasp but don’t pull away. His hands on your hips slide up and down, until he brings one palm to your pussy and gives your mound a light slap.

“Joel,” you whimper as it sends a wave of arousal through your body.

“You’ve been a bad girl, sweetheart,” Tommy chides you, stepping in front of you.

“Worse than usual?” You purr, biting your lip.

With Joel’s at your back, Tommy presses his hips to yours, sandwiching you between the two brothers and your pussy cries for them so much that you feel your slick run down your inner thigh.

With Joel’s arms wrapped around your torso, Tommy locks eyes with you and you reach for his lips but he immediately pulls away, takes your hand and leads you to the bed.

He sits down, leaning his back on the headboard and pats the place between his legs.

“Get in here, babygirl.”

You want to sit on your knees but suddenly Joel roughly turns you around and pushes you to plop between Tommys legs.

Your stepdad pulls you to lean against his warm chest before Joel kneels on the floor.

“Oh wow, big bad Joel Miller on his knees for me? Not the first time though,” you gloat and Joel grinds his teeth and roughly pulls your hips to the edge of the bed. You gasp as your head slides down Tommy’s chest and your naked breasts jiggle. Joel’s thick fingers dig into your skin as he throws your legs over his shoulders, and your pussy blooms for him. His dark eyes get obsidian with lust, as he glides his palms up and down your thighs.

“Fuck, ya seeing it, Tommy? She wasn’t lying about not fucking. This pussy is desperate for cock. ‘m afraid I’m gonna choke on all this slick,” he comments, not tearing his eyes from your needy cunt.

“I’ll be ok with this outcome,” you grunt as your clit twitches with anticipation.

Joel looks up at you with a sneer and then leans down to your mound. You hold your breath, expecting him to finally start eating you out but his lips land on your inner thigh instead of your waiting cunt. He kisses your skin there and you squirm in Tommy’s arms as Joel’s facial hair tickles you. He gets lower, peppering kisses along your inner thigh, moving closer to your center and you buck your hips to meet him halfway and to finally shove your pussy in his face, but Joel places his big palm on your lower belly and pushes your back on the bed. You hear Tommy’s voice over your head,

“Don’t move, honey. Promise to be a good girl for us, ok?”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out and tilt your head up and to the side to look up at him. He’s giving you a warm smile, its effect spreads warmth deep in your belly, but soon it turns into a scorching fire, when Joel’s lips finally latch onto your aching pussy. You gasp and turn to him and the sight almost makes you come. Joel fucking Miller, your asshole step uncle, a mean, selfish, arrogant prick, is on his knees for you, feasting on your wet cunt, lips smacking, tongue gathering all the wetness between your folds.

Already feeling like you’re in heaven, you moan loudly, not caring who might hear and catch you getting a head from your step uncle, while your stepdad’s hands are kneading your breasts and twitching your hard nipples.

“You love it, sweetheart?” Tommy whispers in your ear, as you’re fluttering your eyes shut with pleasure, when Joel’s skillful tongue flicks your throbbing clit and then he sucks it into his mouth.

“Yes—yes—yes,” you chant, almost tasting the climax on your tongue. But a second away from the explosion, Joel parts from your puffy cunt and presses his wet lips to your inner thigh again, kissing and nibbling on it lightly.

“No, Joel, my pussy,” you desperately whine.

“What is it, angel?”

“Make me come, please.”

“Good start but you can do better,” he mumbles while he’s watching his fingers trace your sopping hole. It’s hot but not enough to push you over the precipice.

You grit your teeth but your pride is quickly drowning in the sticky pit of desire.

“Joel, please, please make me come on your tongue. Please, I need it,” you beg and his smile is triumphant and content.

“I’ll do anything for my little niece.”

His mouth returns to your pussy and he grabs your thighs tighter as his tongue swirls your clit around and then slides down to your leaking hole.

“Fuck,” you hear Tommy curse and you feel his stiff cock under your back, he must be so turned on by this.

The older brother starts fucking you with his hot muscle and your hand slithers down to rub your puffy clit but Tommy grabs your wrists and pulls your hands up to your chest, crosses them and keeps them there with his one strong hand.

“Daddy, I wanna come,” you beg the moment Joel’s mouth leaves your pussy again and again whenever you feel so close to ecstasy.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but bad girls don’t get to come so fast,” Tommy smirks and his fingers tighten around your wrists.

You feel tears well up in your eyes, your breaths heavy, belly and chest heaving and your whole body is vibrating in frustration.

“Joel,” you sob and your step uncle lifts his head, his lips, mustache and beard glistening with your juices.

“I’ll give the candy to you, slut. But only if you tell me why you love your uncle Joel so much.”

“What?”

“You heard me, baby.” Joel’s lips are so close but, at the same time so far from where you need him. You curse and whine, grinding your teeth while anger is taking over you again.

Joel hurries you by planting a feather light kiss on your clit and your whole body jerks from a bolt of pleasure but it quickly dissipates, leaving you desperately needing more.

So you cave in.

"You're hot, Joel."

"Yeah, I know. What else?" your step uncle mumbles, drawing a path from your pussy to your knee with his lips.

Tommy chuckles and you squirm in his embrace, annoyed and frustrated.

"You... you're a good fuck."

"Mmm... don't ya think 'great'?"

"Yes. You're a great fuck, Joel."

"You sound like a horny slut, angel," he grumbles, "Hot and a great fuck. Way to objectify your poor uncle. I need more."

His lips travel back down to your cunt and you raise your hips in search of his caress, but Joel pushes you down and Tommy's free arm wraps around your waist tightly.

“Keep still, sweetheart,” he orders and emotions take over your mind and burst out of your mouth.

“Wanna know what I feel? I fucking hate you, Joel. I see myself in you and I fucking hate that. Because it’s like I’m staring at my own future. Just like you I want someone so much that I grab onto them until I realize that they don’t need me. Not as much as I need them. So I lie and manipulate and make them love me. But sooner or later they will see the real me. See my tiny black heart and they will get disappointed and dump me. And I’ll lie and manipulate more to get them back. And it’s a fucking cycle. I’ll never be loved for who I am. Because who I am doesn’t deserve any love.”

Joel freezes with his face between your legs, his expression pensive and serious. If you didn’t know him you’d say you see a trace of sympathy and sadness in his eyes.

“That’s why I hate you, Joel. And you know what’s funny? It’s that I can’t get you out of my fucking mind.”

You want to puke at how vulnerable you’re feeling, baring your soul and body to him. You turn your pained face to your stepdad and say,

“I can’t stop thinking about both of you. Is it love? It’s hard to understand. I’ve never experienced anything like this. Tommy, you’re fucking perfect and I made you suffer and I hate what I did to your life.”

You burst into sobs and your stepdad grabs you by the arms and manhandles you to get on his lap. Joel gets up and sits on the bed.

Tommy’s holding you close, your cheek pressed to his naked chest, peeking out the tank top, that you’re soaking with your tears.

He’s rubbing your shoulder with his hand and softly says,

“I'm not perfect. I’m a piece of shit. I should’ve never done what I did to you. We shouldn’t have. And it’s my fault for getting you into this mess.”

You throw your hands around his neck and start crying harder, mumbling through sobs and whimpers,

“No, please— don’t say that you regret it— regret us—don’t leave me like everyone else, please, daddy.”

“I won’t, babygirl. I’m sorry for… for everything. I love you. I’ll be there for you. Always.”

His arms tighten around you and he kisses everywhere he can reach — your forehead,

your temple, your nose until you tilt your face up and he finds your lips. He’s gentle with you, and you kiss him back, smearing your tears over his face but none of you cares. You’re caressing each other, drowning in the comfort of the embrace and the kiss.

When you part from him you press your nose into the crease of his neck and breathe in his scent, nestling into his big body. While sobs still crawl up your throat from time to time, Tommy wipes the wetness off your face and covers your naked body with a bedspread.

For a few minutes it’s quiet in the room, and when you calm down, you turn your red eyes to Joel, surprised that he hadn’t said anything assholish yet.

You find him watching you with curiosity and now you’re sure. He’s upset too.

A strange feeling envelops you. You want to hug him, feel the warmth of his body and share yours with him. But it’s not your relationship, not the way you connect. So you narrow your eyes and croak,

“Do you know how creepy you look when you’re staring like this, perv?”

You give him a little smile and notice a corner of his mouth slightly rising too.

“You surprised me, angel. Jus’ one month without a cock and you go completely nuts. Crying and shit. Throwing ‘L-words’ around.”

Now you’re both smiling at each other.

“Fuck off.”

“Ok, she’s back,” he says and slaps your ass over the fabric. “Ya know, your tears are golden, angel. Any man will do whatever you want if you cry like that.”

“It was genuine, asshole,” you snap back but there’s no bite to it. You feel lighter, all the pent up frustration and pain left your body and were wiped away by your stepdad’s warm embrace and Joel’s quiet support.

The only emotion that’s still tormenting you is desire. You squirm in Tommy’s lap and the bedspread falls off your shoulder revealing your naked breasts.

“Do you want us to leave, sweetheart?” Tommy asks and his breath caresses your tits.

“No, no, please, I want— .”

“What do you want?”

“I want you. I want you both.”

You look at your stepdad and notice him and Joel exchange glances.

“I think I owe you something, baby,” Joel gruffs and you turn to him and the shine in his beard reminds you of his lips on your pussy. The thought sets your core ablaze and you turn back to Tommy.

“Daddy?” you purr and the man nods.

“But no playing around this time, Joel,” Tommy warns his brother with a serious tone.

‘Course. Hop on my face, cry baby, I ain’t kneeling again.”

He lies down next to Tommy, shoulder to shoulder, and you almost squeal with excitement, throwing the cover off. Tommy leans back on the bed and you tell Joel to scoot lower.

“Wanna play with daddy’s cock.”

“Jesus, angel, is there anything you can do without daddy’s cock?”

You don’t reply and plant your knees on either side of Joel’s head.

A rush of dominance goes through your body when you see your step uncle in this position.

“Finally I’m gonna shut you up,” you smirk and lower your hips slowly, eager for your pussy to meet his smug grin.

Yet Joel is not the one to give up control easily and his hands grab your thighs and he pulls you onto his face. Having teased you before, now he doesn’t play at all and starts passionately making out with your sopping cunt, drawing gasps and moans out of your mouth. With his mouth open wide he stimulates you with a perfect suction while his tongue swirls your throbbing clit around.

You are reduced to a whimpering mess in a matter of seconds and you go so high and so fast that you need to ground yourself.

“Daddy,” you call.

“I’m here, sweetheart.”

Tommy unzips his jeans, trying not to fall off the bed, and takes out his cock.

It’s throbbing, the head glistening with smeared pre cum, and you spit on your hand and wrap your fingers around it. You give his manhood a few pumps, and Tommy moans, but Joel gets your full attention, when his tongue prods your clenching hole and then pushes inside you as deep as it’ll go. He starts fucking you with it and you ride his face, rhythmically bumping your clit against his prominent nose.

“Daddy, I can’t,” you whine, failing to concentrate on two acts at once.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” Tommy mumbles and his hand wraps around yours and he starts moving them together up and down his stiff shaft. His head is resting against the headboard but his half-lidded eyes are sliding between your pussy, crying into Joel’s mouth, and the unity of your hands, pleasuring his cock.

Your other hand is clenching your step uncle’s hair and your tits bounce as you increase the pace of riding his face.

You almost there when Tommy pulls your hand off his cock, sits up and mumbles, kissing your palm and panting,

“Oughta stop— too good— wanna come in your pussy.”

“Delicious little cunt,” Joel growls and starts rubbing your clit with the flat of his tongue, up and down, up and down, and you cry out his name, as euphoria bursts in your core and spreads like wildfire all over your body. You’re sobbing with pleasure, trembling over your step uncle's face, dripping juices onto his lips and he drinks them, slurping and groaning.

When the climax subsides you move off Joel’s face and Tommy takes you in his arms. The men are still fully clothed, except for their exposed cocks. You look down Joel's body and realize that he has been stroking his huge hard manhood while eating you out and your core reignites.

Tommy searches for your eyes.

“Do you feel better, sweetie?”

You nod with a tired smile and in a moment your lips crash against his and you kiss while his hands are hungrily roaming your sweat-covered body, your fingers running through his curls.

Not parting from your lips, Tommy brings his hand to your pussy and your legs fly apart. You shift in his embrace, now your back flush against his chest, lips still glued to his, and you moan when he slowly inserts two fingers into your hole, avoiding your oversensitive clit.

You sense a movement and open your eyes to see your step uncle get up.

“Mmm, Joel stretched you well with his tongue,” Tommy murmurs against your mouth. “Your pussy probably can take two cocks now.”

You pull away and stare at him.

“Two cocks, daddy? Do you mean..?”

“Two fat dicks, angel.”

Your head darts to Joel while Tommy’s fingers are still massaging you from the inside and the older brother laughs, lighting a cigarette, standing next to the bed,

“We gonna stuff your needy cunt so full, your belly’ll look like ya 4 months pregnant.”

He takes a drag while his free hand is wrapped around his huge hard cock.

Their words are ringing in your ears- ‘two cocks, your pussy.”

Your head snaps back to Tommy as you plead, “Please-please-daddy-yes-I want it. My pussy can take it, please, please.”

Your brows are pulled together and big needy eyes are glossy with desire. Tommy smiles at you with adoration in his warm dark gaze.

“We can try, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, angel. Your cock hunger sometimes surprises even me. And I know what a giant slut you’re.”

You don’t tear your eyes off Tommy as he coos at you while his fingers are playing with your soaked cunt,

“We still should prepare you. You know we are big. Especially now.”

“Now?”

“Look at you, my beautiful girl. Our cocks are throbbing hard just because of you.”

He leans lower and his lips brush your ear.

“I barely hold myself from taking you right now.” His fingers are moving inside you, slowly at first but gradually increasing the speed.

“My cock demands your little pussy. I’m so close to just sticking it deep in your sweet cunt and using you, taking what I need from you.”

“Fuck, daddy,” you whisper, closing your eyes and spreading your thighs wider, offering yourself to his hand.

You feel him add two more fingers, four inside you now, and the stretch makes you whine but the dull pain adds to the pleasure.

“Yeah, good girl,” Tommy praises you and kisses your cheek, his hand still working tirelessly, preparing your hole for them and bringing you closer to another climax.

You turn your head and see Joel smoking and watching you getting fingered.

His obsidian eyes lock with yours and he winks at you.

“Lemme help you, brother. ‘m afraid to split her poor pussy in half with my dick.”

He bends down and you gasp when you see his meaty hand move to the place where Tommy’s fingers are already stretching you to the limit.

“Joel,” your scared mewl mixes with the squelching noises of your sopping cunt.

“He’s gonna be gentle,” Tommy commands his older brother, and Joel humms absentmindedly as his thick middle finger prods your entrance over Tommy’s digits.

“C’mon, angel, breathe for me. Yeah, good slut, relax your hungry cunt.”

You do as he says and soon you watch his finger disappear inside you, joining Tommy’s digits. With an open mouth you watch two brothers fuck your stretched hole. You grip their wrists, not to stop but to encourage them to keep going.

Tommy's voice is strained with lust when he groans,

“Shit, honey. Listen to her. She’s crying for more. My fingers are drenched.”

His words send you spiraling into the depth of arousal and when the heel of Joel’s hand hits your clit, you cry out. Your body is shaking, your nails scratching their wrists, your face twisting with euphoria.

“Yeah, jus’ like that, little slut. Happy pussy, happy dicks, yeah?”

You barely hear Joel, after two orgasms your brain is mush. Through the fog in your head you hear Tommy’s voice,

“You sure you still want it? Honey, yes or no?”

You nod because of course you do. The way they make you feel when you fuck is the best thing you’ve experienced in your life, the brightest, the richest pleasure. You feel needed, desired, like they will never leave you. Never will be able to exist without you.

“You need to say it, baby, c’mon,” Tommy coos, “Need to hear it.”

“Yes. Please, fuck me both. Fuck my tight pussy.”

“Ain’t so tight anymore, angel,” Joel laughs, “but it’ll snap back after we done with her.”

He gives you a reassuring slap on the thigh and you smile, too spent to talk.

The men get undressed and then manhandle you into straddling Tommy. You kiss him as soon as you’re close, moaning into his mouth as if tasting him is your basic need, one thing you can’t live without. You both seem to get lost in it until you hear Joel’s grumble.

“Quit it, lovebirds. Let’s get to fuckin’.” He’s next to the bed and you turn your head, ogling his gorgeous cock.

“Soon my dick and your sweet cunt will meet, angel. Let’s make their first time special, yeah?”

He tilts your head up with his fingers, bends down and kisses you passionately. You missed his taste, mixed with yours now, missed his lips, his scent, enveloping you. Your pussy aches for him as much as for Tommy and you might hate to admit it but your heart craves him too. His fire is as scolding as it is addictive and you want him to destroy you, in whatever way he wishes.

You wrap your arms around his thick neck and kiss him, really kiss him, like you’re surrendering yourself to him.

Suddenly he lifts you with his strong arms, throws your legs around his waist and starts devouring your mouth like an offering.

You feel his hot cock pulsating between your bodies and you mumble against his lips,

“Fuck me, Joel. Ruin me.”

With a growl he helps you to sit back on Tommy’s thighs.

Your stepdad’s eyes dart between yours as he cups your cheek, “ya making me jealous, sweetheart,” with a smirk he adds, “I love it.”

He’s not lying, judging by the way his hard cock is smearing precum over your belly, and you smile, taking it in your hand and lifting your hips.

Joel encourages you, his heavy hand on your shoulder,

“Yeah, like that, baby.”

Eyes locked with Tommy’s you sink on his shaft in one go and you both moan, joined at last, relishing this sensation.

“Fuck, you’re wet, babygirl. So warm.” You press your tits to his chest, nuzzling his neck and start moving on his length, up and down, slowly and steadily. His hands grab your ass and he kneads and spreads your asscheeks while his low moaning in your ear makes your head spin.

“Ahhh—That’s my good girl—sweet pussy—riding me so well—missed it—hnggg.”

Then he looks up at his brother and grunts,

“Fuck, let’s do it, Joel, gonna come soon.”

“Daddy was celibate just like you, angel. Savin’ his dick for his dear stepdaughter,” Joel chuckles, stepping on the bed and getting on his knees behind you with a grunt. “Miracle that he didn’t bust a nut yet.”

“Fuck off,” Tommy groans and adds, “hope we won’t break the bed,” he smiles at you but you couldn’t care less about it.

“Daddy, what should I do now?”

Instead of Tommy, Joel replies, “Lie forward and enjoy, baby. Your daddies gonna do all the work.”

Tommy nods with a reassuring smile and you lean on his chest, your eyes locked.

Tommy’s cock twitches inside you when you feel Joel’s hands grip your hips and his fat tip prod your already full pussy.

“Be careful, Joel,” Tommy says as his hand rubs your cheek and he stares into your widened eyes.

He moves his thumb to your lips and says, “Suck, my love.”

You feel butterflies in your belly, hearing the pet name, and take his thick finger between your lips and start sucking. It instantly calms you down.

At this moment Joel pushes his tip fully in and you whine around your stepdad's thumb.

“Shhh, the head’s the meatiest part, angel. Now it’ll slide in like a knife through butter.”

Surprisingly enough he’s not lying. The burning you felt before subsides and with his fingers digging into your hips, Joel parts your walls, inserting his whole cock into your slicked up pussy and bottoms out with a roar.

“Fuck me,” he growls and laughs, “My little niece has a perfect hole.”

He slaps your ass lightly and your pussy clamps around their fat cocks, making both of them groan.

“Oh my god, I’m so full,” your voice is shaky, endorphins already coursing through your body.

“Yes, sweetheart, you did it. Shit, it’s so tight inside you now. It feels amazing.” Tommy’s head falls back against the headboard as his eyes flutter shut.

You almost giggle at how great it feels, then take a deep breath and whine,

“Fuck me, please.”

“Damn, you don’t have to ask twice, baby,” Joel gruffs and pulls his cock out almost to the tip before rolling his hips back into you.

The sensation almost sends you over the precipice. You squeeze your eyes shut, your nails scratching Tommy’s chest, and he hisses and thrusts his hips up into you. You gasp when they both start moving and in a few moments the brothers find a perfect rhythm of fucking your stretched hole, their stiff cocks, sliding in and out of your channel, are drawing moans and whimpers out of your open lips.

While Joel is concentrating on balancing his weight on his knees and stuffing your hole, Tommy makes sure to kiss and lick every spot he can reach. His tongue swirls around your nipples, hands grab your flesh, teeth nip your skin. He paints your neck with hickeys, gently kissing the pain away, until his lips reach yours and he kisses you, while the two cocks are fucking you.

Joel interrupts your kiss when his hand wraps around your throat and he pulls you closer to him. Your back arches and you look up at his face, hovering over yours, as he growls,

“Here’s my sweet niece— our pretty fuck doll.”

He begins snapping his hips into you harder, faster sending his cock deeper and Tommy follows his suit, thrusting his member up into your pussy with the same rhythm.

“I told him ya a slut—ahhh, fuck— and look at ya,” he smirks, ruining your pussy, holding your neck tightly, “his good girl’s bouncing on two big dicks, pleading to be fucked like a whore she is.”

“Dreams do come true,” you mumble back with a hazy smile.

Suddenly Tommy’s fingers swirl around your clit and the sensation together with the filthy words, spilling out of Joel’s mouth, pushes you over the edge and you come, harder than ever, trembling between the men, squeezing their cocks with your pulsating pussy while tears of bliss stream down your cheeks.

With a groan Joel licks a tear off your face and pushes you on Tommy’s chest before immediately exploding into your core, spurting warm cum deep inside you.

While you’re still shaking with your orgasm, Tommy embraces your body tightly and begins coming too, pumping you full of his load. Both men are thrusting, the rhythm uneven and hectic, and you’re milking their cocks until their balls are empty. You feel bloated with the amount of cum they squirted into you and soon it starts leaking out around their cocks and sliding down your thighs.

Gradually your climax dissipates while the men are still inside you. The room gets filled with heavy breathing of the three of you. Joel’s manhood slides out of your pussy first and he tilts your head to him and plants a quick kiss on your lips.

“Keep ‘er plugged, brother,” Joel gruffs, getting up, plops in your chair and lights another cigarette. “Happily,” Tommy murmurs into your ear, before he starts peppering soft kisses along your neck. You giggle when his mustache is tickling you, and to make him stop, you press your lips to his and you make out while his softening manhood is still buried deep inside you, in the pool of their cum.

Joel doesn’t ruin this post-orgasmic moment between his younger brother and you, the room is quiet except for the sounds of lip smacking and him smoking. And you’re grateful to him.

When you finally part from each other, Tommy helps you to lie down next to him. The mess between your legs makes you whine and Tommy gets you some tissues and helps you to clean yourself.

Then you settle down next to him on the bed, your cheek on his shoulder and your leg thrown over his thigh.

Meanwhile Joel puts his jeans back on without zipping them up and rests in the chair.

Tommy and you don’t care about the clothes, both reveling in the afterglow. Your eyes are closing when suddenly Tommy asks,

“Do you have any plans for thanksgiving holidays?”

You blink a few times trying to understand the question and gather your thoughts.

“I…Mel invited me to spend them with her family… but I don’t know. Why?” You tilt your head up to look at him.

“I’m moving back to Austin. Gonna live with Joel for now until I find my own place. Maybe you can visit me there. Us.”

Your heart sings and stomach flutters with excitement when you hear his invitation.

“Sounds nice,” you murmur, barely keeping yourself from squealing. Then you look at Joel.

“Would you mind?”

His piercing eyes slide along your naked body, linger on your lips and then lock with yours.

“I wouldn’t. Always nice to have a good pussy in the house.”

You roll your eyes and Tommy shoots Joel a glare before talking to you again,

“What about Christmas?”

You try to hide a wide grin, biting your lower lip.

“You might meet someone by then, daddy. Get yourself a girlfriend,” you murmur, drawing hearts on his chest with your index finger.

“I won’t. I don’t need anyone else.”

He places his hand under your jaw and tilts your head up.

“You’re the only one I need, sweetheart.”

You’re searching for lies in his eyes or his words but don’t find any. Your throat tightens and tears sting your eyes but you blink them away and reach up to give him a kiss. You pour all your love into it, need and desire in every stroke of your lips and tongue.

A few minutes in heaven are interrupted by Joel’s gruff voice,

“Before you swallow each other whole, let’s go find a bar and get me a drink.”

You giggle against Tommy’s lips and turn to your step uncle.

“I know a good place.”

You try to get up but your legs are still weak from all the orgasms, your pussy sore from the double-cock-pounding, so you almost fall, but Tommy’s strong arms help you up.

The brothers smirk and exchange glances, visibly proud of what they’ve done to you, when you stagger to the wardrobe. You’re still leaking and the thought that their cum is going to seep out of your pussy for days, makes you smile.

“Wear something slutty for us, angel,” Joel orders, putting on his mesh top. Then you feel his bulge press to your naked ass as he whispers against your cheek, “And no panties. Wanna play with your messy cunt under the table.”

The vision painted by your mind sends a shiver through your body and your clit twitches.

“Ok, uncle,” you agree and he lightly slaps your ass.

“Good little slut.”

Already dressed, Tommy comes up to your two and you turn around to the men. Joel’s bulge pokes your hip and his sticky gaze slides up and down your body. Tommy places his hand on your asscheek and gives it a gentle squeeze, cooing at you with a warm smile,

“Our good girl.”

You bite your lip, batting your lashes at the men, and purr with a mischievous smile,

“We’re gonna have so much fun together.”

Thank you for reading!❤️ Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! l'd love to hear your thoughts🌺💕

Part 5 || SERIES MASTERLIST |I Tommy’s Visit MASTERLIST

Tag list for the series:@milla-frenchy @iamasaddie @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquentdreamer @ashhlsstuff @evolnoomym @pinkiec6-rubi @guelyury

Tommy tag @huskyfox5

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

If you'd like to be tagged in the series or in anything else let me know!

[imagineitdearies]

Hi dear, I hope you're doing great x

I don't think I'll ever find the right words to express how i feel about PS. I left a comment on the last chapter trying to explain but it'd need 100 pages so I'll leave it like that for now. I just wanted to say that Tyrus x Astarion is my favorite Astarion x OC/Tav/Durge in the whole fandom. I tried to get into many different variations of Astarion x Tav by other artists and authors but none of them felt "right" like yours. Tyrus truly is Astarion's soulmate, be it personality - wise, phisically, spiritually, emotionally. I'm so in love with him it hurts. You really had the fundamentals of Astarion's psychology and needs up your sleeve. And I'm just like Astarion, I have a weakness for sweet turned cruel because love and circumstances and smart characters and my addiction to Tyrus is currently dire. I can't stop re - reading PS and devour any extra content you put out.

Also I especiallly wanted to thank you for portraying SA trauma with such immense respect and maturity since many people have no idea how to do it correctly or worse, they treat it like their personal kink fodder.

I know you're dedicating your time to other projects now and you're already writing Astarion's POV and the drabbles but I was wondering if we'll ever get glimpses of their post - Cazador life? I'd love to know how they'd deal with their past and what they'd do with their regained autonomy and freedom to be individuals again.

Ps: not sure whether this should get asked on ko - fi or tumblr so I did both ahahah. Part of me wishes you could write a sequel, I'm not going to lie

Either way thank you for everything, I'm hugging you

Hi anon 🥰

Thanks so much for this message and for leaving a comment! Thanks to everyone who commented on ch40 btw, I’ve struggled to start responding to them in part because I wanted to have a general edit of PS done first (alas, with moving a decent distance, my job getting busy, and a bit of burnout, I’ve only finished part I), but also because I don’t want it to end really either, even if I know trying to write a sequel wouldn’t be a successful venture for me. Which is why I plan to continue writing “a flawed eternity” one-shots for quite some time to come! My goal of my own accord is to post a drabble at least once a month, though we’ve surpassed that thanks to a couple wonderful ko-fi supporters 🩵 So yes, plenty of post-PS glimpses to come! If you haven’t read them yet check out my pinned post, two of them do feature post-PS times 🥰

I’m so glad my portrayal of trauma and SA resonated and felt respectful for you. As for everything you said about Tyrus…well, it probably comes as no surprise to you all that I love him to death too, and had created him with the express intent to give Astarion a perfect pairing counterpart I didn’t find in the game, personally. It’s so heartwarming that many of you love him just as much too, now—this precious drow lad lives on in our hearts (and the occasional drabble, haha) 🩵🩵

Seriously, I can’t believe it’s been less than two months since PS concluded, I’m definitely not over it still and love chatting with you all about it 🥰 so thanks again for this ask anon, a big hug to you back!!

[circesoracle]

i'm sorry you feel down about your writing, i meant to send this earlier but better late than never so i hope it's ok. fwiw i think you're one of the most talented writers out there! i don't write myself so i hope it's not dismissive but i'm curious to know what success would look like for you (cause i already think you're v successful & creative, who's writing actually good fshep liara stories yknow?) and what readers can do to better support you so you can feel proud of your creations

I’ve taken a bit of time to think about how to respond to this, so I’m sorry for the delay and for the long answer.

I’m going to assume that you ask this genuinely and with good intentions, and I thank you for your kind words. However, I’ve struggled with how to respond to the two questions in a way that’s honest. I fear honesty will come across as pathetic or asking for attention, or worse, seem accusatory towards a particular fandom. I’ll do my best regardless.

I am an extremely anxious person with very little self esteem. I have had family, friends, girlfriends, professors, acquaintances even who completely destroyed any sense of worth I possess, both in general and in regards to my writing. I used to take pride in my writing, and I used to like it, but over time, people have worn me down, and I can no longer see it as anything less than awful. To give you a feeling of what I mean, here’s a personal experience I’ve never shared with anyone out of fear of empty platitudes and pity.

I applied to my university’s creative writing programme, and within a week was asked to withdraw by the professor because he hated my writing style so much that he told me it would be better for my GPA to drop out. I didn’t write for personal enjoyment for months. I ended up in a depressive spiral so bad I considered killing myself more than once. I changed my major out of English into Communications and New Media out of shame, extending my degree by multiple years when it should have been coming to its end.

I also compare myself to others, which is easy on AO3. You’re extremely kind to say I seem successful, but I can say categorically I am not, in any of the fandoms I post for, successful. My fics don’t compare to other recent postings, with the most successful fic of mine performing middling in a relatively small fandom. Even numbers aside, my fics aren’t good enough to be talked about, or shared around, they don’t inspire art, they barely inspire comments and even those are almost entirely from a small group of dedicated readers(who I cherish dearly and would not still be writing without the support of).

The one which bothers me the most and is the cause of most of my anxiety is Eternity’s Embrace. This is for a number of reasons I would prefer not to discuss openly.

Success, to me, are fics which get art and endless praise and are shared around. Right or wrong, that’s what I define as success, and it is a bar, simply put, I will never meet. I am not good enough. I try to ignore it, but it’s hard. It doesn’t bother me all the time, but when I’m low it’s another thing for my mind to fixate on.

Speaking in terms of Eternity’s Embrace, I have a number of readers who do support me, but they dwindle in numbers with every update and it feels like posting to an empty void. I can’t ask anything more of them, as the few there are(it’s about four of them) already comment in wonderful ways, and they’re the reason I keep posting. My anxieties are not their problem, nor are they yours. If I have more than four readers, that’s news to me as really no more than four or five will comment, which with a long multichapter fic is the only means of knowing anyone likes it.

This is all to say I likely will not be posting a new chapter of Eternity’s Embrace this week, if anyone has bothered reading this far.

Thank you again for your message, I’m glad you enjoy what I write, I appreciate everyone who lets me know they do. My apologies, for the lengthy and delayed response, I only wanted there to be context for why I do express a low opinion of my writing.

[afr0-thunder]

[Poor Chronicles Pt. 17]

*BEHIND STARBUCKS EDITION*

Still no Wi-Fi, I might just have to get used to this until winter arrives. Circumstances may not even change then, but that’s life.

I have decided to end my ramen noodle diet, after I finish the last of it. I have dedicated my life to starving. I will only be drinking water and eating chicken salads at work. My housemate has touched my hot sauce bottle for the last time. I’ve thrown out 3 hot sauce bottles at this point. One 1/3, 1/2 and 4/5 full (Added 1/8 full). My experiment is also over. You can survive 30+ days with just ramen noodles daily and x amount of chicken salads. You CAN “get big” from this diet, whether it be fat or muscle. You CAN consume your “daily calorie intake” from this diet. It’s allegedly 2000, but 10 packs is 1900. “Sodium” is just a periodic table element, you won’t die. Relax. Isn’t that like salt? You literally eat beef and pork all the time.

I almost forgot my savings update:

$13 > $29

THE DISRESPECT CONTINUES! My former favorite coworker said he had to apologize to me. I say, “For what?”. Thinking he was about to apologize for asking if I was from the suburbs. He says, “*stutters* Back in March, when I was leaving and told you ‘Always stay strapped!’” and he flashed his gun. “You looked scared”. My face dropped, then I started laughing and said, “That’s not the first time in my life that I’ve seen a gun”. I actually wanted to say, “I held a gun before you were even conceived.”, but being a good influence is more important. Also, there is nothing “cool” about comparing toughness, especially with a minor. Mexicans are insane. Why would you assume an African American is afraid of that?

My African American manager, who said I’m on a “Broke Nigga Diet”, and I were talking about “Black History Month” and he made a joke and said something along the lines of me being a “Half Nigga”. I was in disbelief that another African American recognized me as biracial and just said, “I’ve never been a half nigga in my life.” while trying to laugh about it. I feel like my unique (good looking) physical features make me a target for this kind of identification, but neither of my parents are of another race, so I don’t know what the fuck he is on, but he needs to lay off of it. Guaranteed if I was uglier, me being fully African American would never be in question. Every time after that when he came to joke with me, I half heartedly made jokes about how he said I was a “Half Nigga” and used the word “Half” excessively for no reason. He realized I was pissed and offered me donuts, but NAY! Shitlist! ETERNALLY! Hate being called one of…THEM!

The respect for people I work with/underneath continues to dwindle. If anything drops it lower, I shall try to update you all.

At the end of the shift, he asked a female coworker and I about our belief on Gods. I used this time to tell him that I was God. He was saying ridiculous shit like “Multiple Gods”, “I feel like I’m a God too”, “People believe in different Gods”. I neglected to mention they all worship the same God, but use different names to address them, (Ex: Allah) they just have “separate” beliefs. They are all pretty similar, just no one notices or follows. He later said “I sound like the Devil”. I neglected to mention he was literally embodying the devil at the moment. I said “How? I literally just preach a righteous path and positivity (to you all)?” (Not verbatim, in essence). I added, “The devil hates on God and wants to be just like him and always has.”, hence why he is the Devil. I just ended the argument with “When we’re all dead, I’ll remember this conversation about how I tried to tell you I was God and you didn’t believe me…”

In other news, I’m getting my first baby momma (the doctor) is named Mary. I thought, “Can’t be. Damn bitch, you got an old bitch name.” But then I thought “Has to be, because why would God not have his Virgin Mary? Right.”. I think “Mark and Mary” is sort of cute. Her ass must be ridiculous because I can’t imagine one that meets my standards, but who knows? I believe she’ll be a “nerd” (Terrible word, almost means autistic), so she’ll share my love for learning and make the most uninteresting topics, fun. Jesus Christ was just an earlier portrayal of our son(s). He technically has not existed yet. My son(s) will serve as a more pure example of my beliefs/way of living, for those rejecting MY life’s examples and in denial of what it portrays.

I’m not sure how I will run into all of them, but I’ve been getting that we’ll all have to crowd somewhere altogether in the meantime. Which sounds cool, crazy and potentially comfortably uncomfortable. No I am not marrying any of them. White people invented the modern concept of it and marriage licenses. The government is ran by white people. White people literally had almost our entire race enslaved for centuries and lost control, I am never listening to any one white ever again. They can have everything and still fumble.

Watching TV right now. It’s a church concert. Some of these religious white bitches are cute.

In short, I need to move, but I’ll be stuck here for some time. I sense unspoken hostility. Apparently, if you’re light skinned, no matter how dark you are, you’re half white. African American no longer means smart, I guess (Relative to Sentence 3). I knew we had some slow ones, but damn. If you always speak formally, white people (Mexicans) will think they are more “gangsta” than you…hilarious. There is apparently other people who think I’m not the only God in existence, but the others engage in the most ridiculous, sinful activities (and are fat). Looking for a short, dark skinned big booty bitch. You can give white people anything and they will lose it all.

- MH (2023)

Ogden Park is not the biggest park I’ve ever seen. It’s potentially Washington Park, but fuck that neighborhood AND George Washington. Disrespectfully.

[10/01/2023]

[stoneantler]

tw: rape, t///e///r///f///ism

Obviously the big problem with t//e///r///f///s is the transphobia, but it’s worth mentioning how awful they are about rape victims too.

One thing I’ve noticed in the past few months of checking in on these people and religiously blocking them, is that they’re the only group on tumblr that openly talks about rape anymore. There used to be a few blogs dedicated to providing support to survivors. Those have largely collapsed under the stress the work they were doing and no one ever really stepped up to take their place. That’s not an indictment of those blogs; I’m incredibly grateful for the support they provided at the time.

But that’s left t///e///r///f///s as the only ones openly talking about rape and abuse, which I think reels in a lot of young survivors looking for spaces where they can talk about their trauma. Or maybe it’s the other way around, young survivors on here are talking about their trauma and the t///e///r//f///s find them and start supporting them.

But the rhetoric they use around rape is really ugly and frightening. A lot of the posts about sexual violence, as you might expect, are wishing death and torture on rapists. This is pretty standard fair though it’s also always wrapped up language like “see this is just how men are, they can’t be stopped, they can’t change, they need to be prevented from committing violence with violence,” which is not a helpful rape prevention strategy. Though I don’t think t///e///r///f///s are actually interested in ending rape or rape culture. They’re interested in taking refugees from mainstream culture and radicalizing them.

There’s also a lot of strong messaging about how rape ruins women. I’ve seen posts saying that rape is worse than murder and how it’s literally impossible to recover from being raped. The t////e///r///f message from rape victims is that you’ve been irrevocably damaged and your suffering is eternal. How is that any different than, I don’t know, someone’s grandpa who thinks that a woman who’s been raped can’t get married anymore because she’s damaged goods?

But how does this hook any survivor looking for support, you may wonder? The message is deeply depressing and hopeless. But I think they’re reaching out to victims who are invalidated by the culture around them. As a survivor, you receive all this messaging that what happened to you wasn’t so bad, that you’re exaggerating, that you’re being dramatic, etc. Being constantly invalidated makes the trauma of what happened cut deeper and deeper, and gives survivors a keener sense that something is wrong with them. T///e///r///f///s come in and say, “there’s nothing wrong with you, it’s just that you’ve been destroyed by someone evil. It’s natural and expected to be damaged goods forever after that.” And I’ll admit, it feels like that sometimes it really does. But that feeling isn’t forever.

The answer to rape victims being invalidated is not to tell them that they are ruined, but to tell them that they are seen and heard. That whatever happened was bad enough for them to feel ruined and hopeless, but to remind them that they are not ruined and the world is not hopeless. It’s so fucking evil to me that t///e///r///f///s are looking at hopeless frightened hurting survivors and refusing to give them hope. And the thought that survivors are being indoctrinated into t///e///r///f//ism through the abuse they’ve experienced makes me ill to my stomach. And I don’t want to take away the agency of people who have been indoctrinated via this route. They made a choice. But also, their vulnerability was taken advantage of in a culture that has very little room for survivors.

[jmflowers]

the document is now 28 pages long, over 10K words, and I have just one section left to write before I do my final pass of editing

can 👏🏻 not 👏🏻 wait

[druigswhores]

gold rush | 5

GRIEVING FOR THE LIVING

pairing: druig x eternal!reader

summary: in which druig found himself falling for the gentle soul who was also known as the goddess of human love and flowers.

warnings: this series will include major spoilers for eternals. angst, descriptions of blood and injuries, slight fluff.

word count: 3.6k

a/n: sorry for going afk for a month :( I’ve had writers block and have been struggling with a lot lately </3 I’ll try get chapters out whenever I can! not spell checked so I’ll probably rewrite this later on

masterlist - series masterlist

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Flames enveloped their homes.

She could practically feel heat flicker against her skin almost as if she stood next to the flames. It was torture. To hear the screams of pain, to hear the people she promised to protect die in pain, die fighting with one another.

It wasn’t her battle, she reminded herself about Ajax's words.

It was years later since she had returned to her family, once again defeating deviants side by side with those she loved.

Phastos with his powerful wit and even stronger dedication to help others.

Thena and her fierce determination, the only Eternal to truly listen to her thoughts and self doubt when no one else would.

Gilgamesh who was created to defend and protect, the same person she’d go to when she wanted a shoulder to lay on.

Sprite with her energetic personality that could fill a room with laughter.

Kingo and his strong sense of self confidence, who helped her find something similar within herself.

Ajax, the only eternal to have the ability to not only heal the body, but heal the mind with her soothing words and comforting embrace.

Sweet Makkari, who can run faster than the speed of sound but would slow down to be with the people she loves.

Ikaris, who although made it difficult to get to know him, made up for it with his unwavering faith and loyalty towards those he cared for.

Sersi who managed to turn Ikaris’ heart from stone into gold without her powers of matter manipulation.

And Druig.

Heavens, she could talk about him for hours.

He was like a storm, unexpected, loud. Falling for him was as if falling from the skies until your bones crushed and she hated it. The aching need in her soul to feel his touch, clutching onto the feeling she felt of their fingers intertwined on that starry night hundreds of years ago.

How she hesitated to let go, to pull away from him. She was drawn to him and couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“Where are the others?” Ajax questioned the few Eternals that surrounded her whilst Makkari and Thena made their way to the group.

A handful of Eternals were scattered across the globe, in an attempt to wipe out the remaining deviants that prowled the earth. The forest they currently stood in was illuminated by the flickering flames of the buildings nearby, muffled sounds of pain and death as she attempted to focus on the people in front of her.

It’s just a forest, she thought.

It should be the place she’d feel the most herself given her abilities with nature but she couldn’t help the need to go to the villagers and help them, it was as if she had an itch she couldn’t scratch, it took everything in her power to stop her from helping those who needed her help.

She watched helplessly as they massacred one another, sounds of bullets cutting through the air before piercing someone’s flesh. The smell of death continued to strengthen as flesh was torn, blood splattered onto the ground and was soaked up by the dirt. She swore she felt the forest around her cry out helplessly begging for her to stop the damage that had been done as if the forest itself had been wounded.

She had built a bond with the very Earth she stood on, becoming one with the oceans, skies, and the roots in the ground that held onto the trees tightly, keeping them grounded. She’d continue to longingly look at the crowd, unable to heal the feeling of her heart being torn into two, the goddess of human love reduced to nothing.

She had failed them.

She had failed the little girl she’d sworn to protect the first time she stood on this very earth.

She hadn’t realised she wasn’t the only eternal to feel the same way.

“This isn’t war, it’s genocide!” Druig spat out in anger, fingers curled into a fist as he attempted to contain his emotions.

“Their weapons have become too deadly.” Druig paused, glancing at Phastos before continuing his rant, shrugging off Ajax’s grip on his arm. “Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea helping them advance.” Druig suggested, wanting to pinpoint the blame on someone. He glanced at every Eternal that listened to his words, cautiously avoiding her gaze.

He had to blame something, someone. Because it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair to him to have the abilities to stop the brutal murders from occurring, only to be instructed to sit back and watch mankind kill themselves.

He mourned, he mourned those who had already been killed and those who soon will be, simply because he couldn’t save them. Druig’s grief weighed down on his shoulders, within a blink of an eye he could have all these people under his will, there would be no more fighting, no more war.

No more killing.

It trapped him, he hated feeling helpless. He despised knowing he had the power to solve everything but couldn’t, why would Arishem force him to experience such torture?

She stayed silent as the two bickered, incapable of staring at anything but the massacre in front of her.

When will all the killing end? She thought.

“It’s too late.” Thena interrupted, voice lacking emotion.

“Thena?” She reached out to grab Thena’s hand to gain her attention, standing beside the Eternal.

“You okay?” She asked, softly.

“Everyone is going to die.” Thena’s monotonous voice stated.

Thena’s eyes flickered a shade of gold before turning white, she could barely acknowledge the weapon Thena conjured until it was aimed at her. Blade piercing into her skin without warning, she gasped in shock, clutching her open wound as she felt her clothes soak up the blood that began to seep through.

Thena twisted the weapon in her hand, once again aiming for the Eternal. Within seconds the injured Eternal found herself laying on the ground, far away from the group. Makkari gently laid her down in a way to avoid the wound before speeding away back to stop Thena from hurting the rest of the group. She winced as she put pressure on the bloodied wound, attempting to sit up as she heard hurried footsteps make their way towards her, Sersi had rushed her way towards the Eternal and helped her up as Ajax attempted to stop Thena.

It was sudden. The blade that went through Ajax before Gilgamesh appeared.

He was the only one that would be able to put up a fight with her. If Thena was created to destroy, then Gilgamesh was created to protect. They kept each other in balance, matching the other’s moves perfectly, always in harmony.

If people were truly destined to be with another person, names written in the stars before you were ever born. Then Thena and Gilgamesh must’ve been the product of that, soulmates.

Made for one another.

Ajax hurriedly made her way towards the injured Eternals, attempting to heal them before more became injured. She graciously thanked Ajax as she felt her wound heal itself. If it wasn’t for the blood on her clothes, no one would’ve known she had just been stabbed.

“Are they okay?” Kingo breathed out, exhausted from the running as he made his way to the trio. Ajax nodded in response before their attention made its way back to the couple.

“Thena please, come back to us.” Gilgamesh begged. She could just about hear, before the fight continued once again, the glow of Thena’s weapons illuminated the small section of the forest that they stood in.

A loud thud was heard before Thena fell to the ground.

It was a while later, the Eternals found themselves surrounded by a table that Thena laid on, staring at the Eternal in grief.

Almost as if they were mourning, grieving for someone who is still here.

They waited anxiously for her to regain consciousness.

“I thought Mahd Wy’ry was a myth.” Sersi whispered after Ajax explained what had happened to Thena.

She was leaning against the wall, next to Druig who stood with his arms crossed, a stoic impression on his face as he listened to the conversation. She knew that although he hadn’t said anything, his mind must be racing. Ajax continued to heal the rest of the Eternals from the injuries that were just obtained.

“There is no cure, so no one really talks about it.” Phastos explained, glancing back at Thena despairingly.

Seconds later, Thena awoke.

“What happened?” She croaked.

“Thena, you attacked everyone.” Ajax began, cautiously approaching Thena.

The quieter Eternal spoke up from beside Druig.

“You wounded Phastos and I, and nearly killed Makkari.” She explained softly before Ajax continued to speak, looking at Thena apologetically.

Thena looked around, panicked. Her eyes fell to the way Phastos clutched the side of his torso where the injury was, she could see the blood on his clothes as well as Makkaris, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I don’t- I don’t remember.”

“You have Mahd Wy’ry, your mind is fracturing under the weight of your memories.” Ajax paused briefly, laying a hand on Thena’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

“All I can do is erase them so that you can start over. I will have to inform Arishem and take you back to the ship where we have the technology to help you.” She continued, voice softening as she explained the process.

Makkari interrupted, stating that Thena wouldn’t be herself anymore if that happened.

“What if it happens again? She could’ve killed you, she could’ve killed all of us.” Kingo argued, recalling how just an hour ago a majority of the Eternals were injured and bleeding at the hands of Thena.

“Please.” Thena begged.

“Please, I- I want to remember, I want to remember my life.” She pleaded, eyes glistening with the tears that began to fall.

As Ajax continued to comfort Thena, she couldn’t help but let her eyes gaze outside, the flames that still burned, hours later. It was difficult for her to tune out the cries for help from the villagers below.

She recalled Ajax’s words from years ago.

“Their fate is now in your hands.”

How can they let the humans continue to kill each other? they were brought to Earth to protect them. She suddenly recalled the conversation she had with Druig weeks ago.

“According to Sprite, they’ve now begun to call me the Goddess of human love and flowers.” She let out a laugh. Druig stood beside her, amusement written on his face as she created flower crowns without using her abilities. She sat against the window of the Domo on the ledge beside it.

He watched as her fingers fumbled with the flowers before taking one out of her grasp, she jokingly rolled her eyes in return, shaking her head.

“They’ve begun to call you Antheia, you know.” He chuckled softly, ocean blue eyes staring out of the window, admiring the view below the domo whilst gently twirling the stem in between his calloused fingers.

She was in awe of his every move, breathing him in as if she’d blink and he’d suddenly disappear. Her eyes fell to his hands remembering the way his hand moulded into hers when their fingers intertwined on that unforgettable night.

She yearned to reach out and hold his hand once more, rushing to move her gaze to somewhere else as she realized he had said something.

“What?” She questioned “But that’s not even close to my true name?” Gazing at him in confusion, eyebrows furrowed as she watched his fingers brush against the individual petals.

She watched as he carefully traced the edges of the petals, so gentle that one wouldn’t assume that he is the same Eternal that can control the minds of thousands.

“It means flower, my love. Personally I think it’s quite fitting.” He paused, handing the flower to her, fingers grazing against her own, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

Druig suddenly spoke, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Why should she trust you?” He questioned, beginning to make this way to the doorway. “You’re asking her to let you erase who she is.”

“Druig, I know you’re upset but-” Ajax was cut off.

“Upset?” He spat out in disbelief, she glanced at the two, wondering whether she should intervene.

“We’ve trusted you for 7,000 years and look where you’ve gotten us.” He exclaimed.

The Eternals watched in silence, wondering what was about to occur.

“I’ve watched humans destroy each other when I could stop it all in a heartbeat. Do you know what that does to someone after centuries?”

Yes, she wanted to answer.

“Could our mission have been a mistake? Are we really helping these people build a better world?” Druig questioned.

She saw tears escape from his eyes before he quickly turned away to face the outside, the flames continued to burn as humans continued to kill each other. The distant sounds of helpless screaming became deafening as the room fell into silence.

“We’re just like the soldiers down there.” Druig scoffed, back facing the rest of the Eternals.

“Pawns to their leaders, blinded by loyalty.”

“It ends now.” Druig demanded.

Within seconds the screaming stopped, she could just about hear the sound of metal dropping onto the ground as the soldiers silenced.

Then Druig was forcefully pushed against the wall by Ikaris, not phased by his Ikaris’ anger.

“Let them go.” Ikaris demanded.

“You’re going to have to make me.” Druig cockily responded.

“Druig’s right.” She whispered, causing all eyes to fall on her.

“What?” Ikaris questioned in disbelief.

She made her way towards the doorway, glancing at Ajax.

“The day we arrived here you told me something I never forgot. That their fate is in our hands now.” She pointed at the people below in emphasis.

“Since then I’ve wondered, if their fate is in our hands why are we told to sit still and watch as they kill one another?” She questioned, voice wavering as she swallowed her emotions, she couldn’t allow herself to cry now.

“How can you instruct us to be idle as humanity destroys itself? Maybe we aren’t the heroes we’ve been painted out to be.” She concluded, anxiously glancing around the room to see her family look at her in disbelief, in disappointment.

The tears began to fall.

Ikaris towered over Druig, hands balled into a fist before Ajax interrupted.

“Stop.” Ajax demanded, pulling Ikaris’ hand off Druig, Ikaris backed off, walking away from Druig.

“If you want to stop me, you’re going to have to kill me.” Druig announced stoically, before turning his back on the Eternals and walking down the steps and away from the rest of the Eternals. The villagers waited for him at the end of the steps, parting for him as he made his way through the crowd, before following him into the depths of the forest.

She held her breath as she watched him walk away, unable to pull her eyes away until his figure disappeared in the distance, glancing back at the rest of the Eternals she let out a shaky breath, hands trembling as she realised what had happened.

Druig is gone.

He left.

She couldn’t bring herself to move her body, she wanted to leave, to follow him, her body stuck in the place near the doorway. Half inside the room and the other outside of the doorway her arm brushing against Ajax’s as Ajax made her way to the centre of the room.

“I’ll watch over Thena, let her keep her memories.” Gilgamesh decided.

“One day when she attacks you, you might have to kill her.” Ajax simply stated. Gilgamesh glanced over at Thena, eyes gazing into her own, smiling softly before looking back at Ajax.

“We’ll take that chance.”

There was a somber pause in the room, the sounds of the flames from outside could be heard as the room stood in silence.

“You may all go.” Ajax pronounced, causing all eyes to look at her in disbelief.

“The deviants are gone, there is no reason for you to stay with me.”

“Shouldn’t you ask Arishem first?” Ikaris intervened.

“I didn’t ask you for your advice, Ikaris.” Ajax interrupted.

Ajax glanced around the room solemnly.

“This is where we say goodbye, you are free to go and live a life for yourselves, not as soldiers.”

“One day, when we see each other again, I want you to tell me what you’ve found.” Ajax admitted softly.

She couldn’t tell how long she’s been treading for.

It must’ve been a while, she assumed, due to the ache in her legs, but she couldn’t stop.

As soon as the rest of the Eternals parted ways she found herself aimlessly walking, stuck in the thoughts in her head as she made her way through the forest.

Her family was split up.

She was free to live her own life, no longer a soldier who’s self-worth depended on her special abilities.

She replayed the moments in her head, forcing herself to relive the moment the Eternals split up and Druig left.

Forcing herself to remember the disappointment written on their faces as she agreed to what Druig had said, she had only said how she felt yet they were disappointed in her.

She hadn’t realized she’d stumble upon the same villagers Druig walked away with, glancing up in confusion as she had bumped into someone. In front of her was a crowd, a crowd that were eerily silent, navigating their way through the forest in the dark with ease.

“Druig…” she muttered in realisation, attempting to force herself through the crowd to get to the front, she had to see him. She grunted as she pushed past the crowds, wanting to apologise for shoving past only to realise they wouldn’t hear as she recognised the gold glow of their eyes.

“Druig!” She called out as she saw his figure in the sea of bodies, he froze, which allowed her to make her way to him. Druig turned as he heard her footsteps rushing towards him, he could recognise her just by the way she walked towards him.

She was exhausted, wanting nothing more but to lay down, but she forced herself to sped up as Druig made his way towards her.

She fell into his arms, body giving up due to exhaustion, body pressed against his own as he held her up.

Druig sighed in relief as his arms wrapped around her torso, eyes closed, resting his chin at the top of her head. She felt his arms tighten around her as he let out another shaky breath. She opened her mouth to speak only for the words to get stuck in her throat, he hesitantly pulled away from her to take a look at her, waiting for her to say what’s on her mind.

He couldn’t believe she was with him, she made her way to him, even after what had happened.

“You can't just- it wasn’t fair for you-” she stumbled upon her words, he nodded, unable to stop the smile appearing on his face as she stumbled over her words, pulling her back in for another embrace.

“I know.” He responded, nodding his head in response to what she had tried to say.

“I don’t think there’s anywhere I’d rather be, other than by your side.” She confessed.

Druig felt his heart stutter in his chest, wondering whether she could’ve heard his heart skip a beat as she pressed her cheek against his chest.

He wondered whether her lips tasted as sweet as the words she had just spoken to him were. He felt dizzy as he leaned away from her, watching the frown form on her face before he gently held her face in the palms of his hands, pulling her face closer towards his. Her eyes fluttered shut in realisation, he could just about see the skin beneath his fingers turn a shade of pink.

She felt his lips hesitantly hover over her own causing her patience to disappear, leaning up, hands on his shoulders for balance, before pressing her lips against his own.

Druig felt a weight lifted off his shoulders, he felt drunk, intoxicated by the taste of her. The feeling of her body pressed up against his, and god did he want more, he wanted it all, he wanted her. Every touch, every kiss healed him, he felt as though she healed every broken part of him, every part that had weighed him down, made him doubt himself.

Her lips were soft against his own, Druig lost himself in the taste of her, wanting more and more until he got sick of it. But as he felt her arms wrap around her neck to pull him he knew he never would.

He poured everything he wanted to say in the kiss, all the words that got lost in translation, everything he wanted to say but couldn’t, he poured his soul into the kiss, wanting her to know how enamored he is by her.

She’s waited centuries for this, for him.

The man she had spent hundreds of years in love with, finally in her arms. She felt as though it was a dream, she’d wake up and be in the Domo, still pining over the Eternal she believed didn’t love her back.

“Wait-“ she paused, pulling away from him.

His brows furrowed in confusion as she stepped out of his arms, following her gaze that was pointed towards the villagers that stood around them. To her relief she could see the gold in their irises.

“C’mon, let’s go home.” He offered her his hand to which she took gratefully, the two making their way through the forest together, hand in hand, as the villagers followed them into the depths of the amazon forest.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

all works: @yelenabelovasgf @amourtentiaa @husherstan @peggycarter-steverogers @drpepperobsessed @whosedevil @missusstark @hehehehannahthings @rafecameronswhore @secretsthathauntus @idontwannabetherightwayround @crymanny @beliza-styles28 @k3njirou

druig taglist: @dontstopxx @itscheybaby @halsmultibitch @hereiamhereigo @redroomproperty @bellaiscool @justifymyfeelings @measure-in-pain @swaggieee @maddyt28 @minxie98 @bookthingz @whatdoyxumean @zofps @she-wintersoldat @the-killer-queenie @felicityofbakerstreet @bizzlepotter @elennory @camilaricci @thesecrethistoryofamanda @bittergomez @lalafl12 @dani5216 @no-trespassing-mtz @sweet-creature98 @luxuriouslokistan-3 @enderstones @ilbuioinduefamenopaura @sunnnyshark @nepturn @redbarn1995 @thenas-heart @shell-lee-inc @jordynanderson9 @zanmorgan @poemsforparker

[wolfpants]

one year in fandom? surely not?

But yes, technically, that's what today is for me! A year since I posted my first fic, a year since coming out of the murky shadows and into somewhere a bit less shadowed (I'm a soft goth, it's a lifestyle)? In that time, I've published 21 fics, and almost half a million words, something I never thought I'd be able to accomplish this time last year when I shyly asked my friend if my writing was decent enough to post online. Those first few months were so tentative, so quiet honestly, and I can't believe where I am today, but the most rewarding thing, besides sharing all of those words, has been meeting all of you talented folk! I wanted to pay tribute to those who have helped lift me up, who have welcomed me into this sprawling corner of the internet with open arms, who have encouraged me to do more, to be more me, to grow as a writer and as a participator in fandom. You have my eternal love and gratitude. My confidence only began as a tiniest seed - you all have helped it grow. 

@academicdisasterfic - my best boy n twin flame; your writing is a revelation of authenticity, of heart, of what it is to be human in the real world and a world full of magic. You are a very special person, and I hope you know this.

@wrapped-up - one of my first connections here and my fellow beer lover! Your writing is so effortless, so beautiful, and I feel like I’m hanging with best mates whenever I read your words.

@oknowkiss - are we each other’s evil twin? Maybe. You write the most genius, sexy, witty fics all wrapped up in the most pretty, pretty words, I am in constant awe of you.

@moony-saraneth - the most dedicated cheerleader I know, you mean so much to so many people here, and I’ll never forget how you’ve helped me grow my confidence with your warm and generous encouragement.

@lou-isfake - Licurici is basically my personality these days. What an insanely beautiful fic from start to finish. Your words, like you, are brimming with so much generosity and consideration and kindness.

@nv-md - your talent blows me away every time you post something new, and what’s more, you are full of so much heart and grounded wisdom and do so much good in this fandom. We’re so lucky to have you.

@lqtraintracks- your talent needs no introduction really, your vivid characterisation and scorching smut is legendary. But you also welcome everyone here with such open arms, you give incredible advice and support (all of which has been invaluable to me), and your force in this little corner of the internet is unparalleled. Thank you for being so kind to me.

@coffeedrgn87 - a fellow caffeine fiend and one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met! I love our chats about Dronarry and all of the possibilities and scenarios these three boys can end up in. Thank you for being so lovely.

@the-starryknight - I am so in awe of your masterful prose. You write so stunningly, so thoughtfully, so lovingly. I still pinch myself every time I see a comment from you on ao3. I feel so lucky to have met you here.

@getawayfox - you are such a ray of gorgeous sunshine. Your art is so stunning and I still pinch myself every time I remember that you were inspired to make art from my fic! I’m not worthy. 

@krah18 - I have so much enjoyed all of our book chats and reminiscing over early MLM, Blockbuster and old movies! I can’t wait for another year of nostalgia and chatting fic!

@sitp-recs - your rec lists are so thoughtful and so carefully curated. You bring so much community not only to Drarry, but all of the rarepair readers, writers, and fans that you lift up. I am so thankful to you for giving The Hollow a platform and a spot on your blog.

My discord sprinters, banterers, and all round good eggs with talent overflowing from you all in waves - @tackytigerfic you are an absolute legend and your words have literally kept me up to the wee hours; @sweet-s0rr0w my fellow Ron stan and crafter of such evocative fics that stay with me for weeks after reading them; @skeptiquewrites you write romance like no other, my good lord; @sorrybutblog you paint such vivid and gorgeous pictures with your prose, I could live in every world you create; @corvuscrowned, the spooky storyscapes you cook up are absolutely out of this world, and your characterisation is always so insanely good; @m0srael, it’s been an absolute joy being in your orbit, your writing is so incredibly delicate and expressive; @ghaniblue Human made me breathless, absolutely one of the best fics I’ve ever read; @basicallyahedgehog whenever I see you pop up on my feed or in my comments my heart swells with joy, you are the best cheerleader ever; @phoebe-delia what can I say - you are one of the most beautiful souls I’ve ever met, so sweet, so charming, so willing to go full caps on comments, you absolute legend; @phd-mama you are a master of sweet fluff and hot smut; @pineau-noir your characterisation is always so full of heart and authenticity; @maesterchill - what can I say? Your fics haunt me (in the best possible way), your writing is so soulful and romantic; @thebooktopus- your reclists literally got me through the year, so thoughtful and full of dedication - you are so dearly loved here; @makeitp1nk- I adore seeing your cleverly crafted microfics pop up on my feed!; @teacup-tai- a kind soul and a champion of rarepairs and incredible femslash, I’ve loved getting to know you!

To the artists who brighten up my feed, @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm, @bluebutter-art @short666bread - every time you post something new my heart sings. I am blown over, constantly, by your talents, and the way you can bring to life images only I could have dreamt of before.

I am missing people. I know. But just know that, if we’ve interacted here - squealed over fic, over headcanons, art, or music (!!) - please know that I appreciate you, I cherish you. Thank you for a year of joy.

[jungkxook]

—midnight getaway. (m)

⟶ pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader 

⟶ genre: sprinkle of youtuber!wooyoung + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 6,488

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: a “romantic” getaway surrounded by your friends leads to an interesting night alone with wooyoung

⟶ warnings: pwp, wooyoung says baby a lot bc he’s in love, some teasing woo, exhibitionism, doggy style, sort of praise kink, ass play (fingering, fem!recieving), breast play/fondling, finger sucking, riding, unprotected sex, creampie 

⟶ note: this is the first fic i’ve written in a while and my first ateez fic no one come for me pls also this is dedicated to the lovely @kithtaehyung​ !! thank you for always encouraging me and my wooyoung antics!! 💛

p.s. this is shamelessly inspired by this wooyoung selfie!!

“Ugh. You obviously like her.”

The begrudging sigh comes from Yeosang, narrowly giving Wooyoung a heart attack when he realizes that you’re still within earshot. This wouldn’t have been so much of an issue had Yeosang not been so clearly talking about you to Wooyoung, though he barely has any time to recollect himself. Instead, sprawled out on the poolside of the villa the group had rented out for their week-long vacation in Jeju Island, Wooyoung firstly decides that he has no idea what Yeosang’s talking about.

“We’re just friends,” Wooyoung retorts.

“A friend you invite with you on a romantic getaway?” Yeosang asks with a wolfish grin.

Wooyoung shakes his head. He can still see you through the windows of the villa, now in the kitchen talking to Hongjoong. You’re all bright-eyed and glowing from the sun, in a swimsuit you had been putting to use just a few minutes ago when you took a dip in the pool. “Some romantic getaway, considering there’s seven idiots in the same house as us. Also thought this trip was meant to have no distractions.”

Which isn’t really a lie, because while their trip to Jeju was mostly for their YouTube channels, it was also meant to serve as a well-deserved break for the boys, and their leisure work of choice wasn’t exactly taxing and the majority of their trip so far has been spent simply enjoying themselves. Hongjoong had been so adamant too that there would be nothing to hinder them during their well deserved break. And of course you jumped at the offer to tag along when Wooyoung asked you, because you were his best friend but, moreover, his best supporter when it came to his passion and his videos.

“Yeah,” San hums nonchalantly from within the pool. He had been one of the few to jump in with you earlier, “but I don’t think friends flirt with each other on a daily basis.”

“Not to mention your video was all about her,” Jongho adds from beside Wooyoung. “I thought we were supposed to be promoting tourism in Jeju, not Y/N.”

That was a bit of an exaggeration. Sure, you had featured in a lot of the video Wooyoung had only just posted for his “Our Side of the Story” series he was doing (mostly daily vlogs, or aesthetic short films that you’ve always loved ━ much like the others, who have found a way to incorporate their love for music, dance, cooking, and everything in between in their vlogs), but you always made an appearance when you were so close with him. His viewers were used to it by this point, safe for the occasional questioning comments as to whether or not you two were dating. This video in particular saw you having the most fun in a while, frolicking the streets of the city, sprinting across the beach into the shallows of the ocean to try and splash Wooyoung with water; shaved ice shared between you and him and the way you snuck a bite of his when he was preoccupied, bike rides along the waterfront, and clambering along hiking trails so you could pose in a field of flowers that you had so desperately wanted to see.

Now, Wooyoung gives a roll of his eyes. “Funny. I don’t know what you guys are talking about.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yeosang sighs again. “When are you gonna tell her the truth?”

“The video already kind of did,” Jongho points out tauntingly. “If I was Y/N, I would have already realized.”

“Yeah━” San is beaming now as he clambers out of the pool, “but if you don’t want her, Woo, can I make a pass at her? Y’know, just to help take her off your hands━ Ow! What the hell?”

San jumps suddenly when Wooyoung chucks one of the pillows off of the lawn chair at his head.

“Keep your hands off her━” Wooyoung chastises. It’s meant mostly as a joke, but he worries when he recognizes a small part of him seems to care a little too much.

The others seem to find it funny at least, erupting into howling laughter that’s quick to fade when you wander back out to the pool and throw yourself next to Wooyoung.

“They’re definitely starting to catch on.”

Wooyoung lets out a weary sigh, though you’re starting to find it difficult to focus as he continues to kiss down your throat.

So, maybe if any of the boys walked in and saw the both of you in such a compromising position, they would be indescribably confused while also preparing to point an accusatory finger at Wooyoung for technically lying to them. But it isn’t really a lie, and certainly not one neither he nor you were keen on keeping for very long. It’s just that it seemed a whole lot easier to keep your newfound two month relationship with Wooyoung a secret for a small while.

It was mostly to give the both of you enough time to enjoy yourselves thoroughly without the prying eyes of your friends (who, while always supportive, are already passionately invested in your lifelong friendship with Wooyoung, pointing out his feelings for you even far before he could decipher them), their vlogging lifestyle, and their fans, while also waiting for the proper time to expose the truth. After the Jeju trip, you had both promised each other. But that plan was beginning to look more and more faulty as time passes.

What was supposed to be an innocent trip to Jeju with your friends turned into a tricky game in which Wooyoung had entirely different plans that consisted of you only. Specifically, how many times he can find you alone away from the boys to have his way with you. By now, night has since fallen and, after a short duration of time unwinding around a small bonfire in the backyard, the boys had all since retreated to their own rooms. You’re positive most are already long asleep and the ones that aren’t are beginning to nod off, exhausted after a long day and drowsy with liquor from the night of drinking. You’re fortunate Wooyoung at least first chose to find you alone in your room of the villa, but you still panic. Because Wooyoung should be sleeping in his shared room with Hongjoong down the hall from yours, yet here he was.

“My video today probably didn’t help,” Wooyoung adds. 

You hum in response. “I don’t know if sneaking into my room will help with that either.”

At this, Wooyoung grins wide. “It’s fine. Hongjoong’s passed out cold. You should hear his snores. Plus━” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “I couldn’t sleep without wondering how quickly you can cum.”

You nearly choke as you hear the words fall from Wooyoung’s mouth.

But it wasn’t his fault ━ he has needs too.

The first night of your trip called for a joyous celebration at a nearby restaurant that resulted in everyone being blissfully drunk by the time you returned to the villa. You had gotten so dressed up for the occasion that Wooyoung hated to see it go to waste, adorned in a pretty floral sundress ━ one that has always been his favourite (and, no, he promises that’s not solely because of how nice your boobs look in it, though that’s definitely a plus). If the boys could hear his thoughts now, they’d certainly pick him apart.

The house, however big and spacious it may be, is certainly not empty. Even just next door to your room is the shared room both Mingi and San are in. This is a fact you choose to remind your dear boyfriend of now. “The boys are sleeping.”

“Screw the guys,” Wooyoung groans into your neck. His strong arms slide around your middle from behind, pulling you into an all too familiar and warm embrace. He’s caught you just before you can shed your dress and slip into something more comfortable, all radiant and shimmering from a day out in the sun. You melt almost immediately against his chest as he nibbles on the skin just below your ear, on the corner of your jaw. He whispers ardently, “You look really pretty today. You always do, but especially today.”

A gentle smile spreads across your face. You instinctively reach out behind you to rest your hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tugging at the hair there. “I wore this dress just for you. I know it’s your favourite.”

“Yeah, because your tits look amazing in it,” he snickers. As if to emphasize this, he reaches down slyly to cup one of your breasts over the material of your dress, giving it a squeeze.

“Well, now you’re just trying to distract me into bed with you.”

“Is it working?” he asks hopefully, a smug grin on his face.

You snicker, fidgeting in his hold to face him and patting at his shoulder. “Maybe if we weren’t surrounded by a group of seven drunk men who could potentially hear and walk in on me sucking you off at any moment.”

But Wooyoung has already waited all day for the boys to leave you two alone. Waiting any longer may as well have felt like an eternity in a certain type of special hell that he wasn’t exactly keen on.

“And?” A sudden smirk stretches across his face. He leans in close to you, lips brushing faintly against your ear. “You didn’t have a problem letting me fuck you against the practice room mirror the other day.”

You swat lightly at his chest, scoffing suddenly. “Wooyoung!”

But he has a point. In all fairness, it had been his idea to take you against the practice room mirror when the boys had gone home and you were dropping off food to your poor boyfriend still working late at night. You certainly hadn’t complained then when he had you coming around his cock with the practice room door left unlocked. It’s such a Wooyoung thing to say too, being that he’s not often caught off guard, especially when he’s so blatant and confident about all things sex.

“Can’t you keep it in your pants for one night, Woo?”

“No, he’s in pain,” he pouts childishly. He bites playfully at the tip of your nose.

You sputter for air, dissolving into a fit of laughter. “You did not just call your dick a he━”

“Okay, I’m in pain,” he corrects. He starts kissing down and back up your neck. “It’s not my fault you look extra hot today. Besides, you looked like you were having so much fun today. Is it so wrong for me to want to keep pampering my beautiful girlfriend?”

“With your dick?”

“Yes, with my dick.”

You snort.

“And━” He drags out the word purposely, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “I don’t even want you to suck me off, by the way. All I want is to fuck you senseless right now.”

Oh.

His words send a nerve right down to your core. Your thighs instinctively press together at the thought.

All things considered, you’re not any better. There was no denying how devastatingly attractive your boyfriend always looked, but especially today. A well-deserved break and the Jeju sun did him well, with a beautiful tan starting to glow on his face, free of any make-up or cover-ups. The usual stress of city life and work doesn’t weigh heavy on his brows anymore, and though his hair has gotten longer, it’s a neat and pretty mess ━ a little unruly from the sun and chlorine, and from having taken it down from its half-ponytail, but pretty nonetheless ━ with the under half of it bleached blonde and the top half dyed black. Dressed in nothing but a casual old t-shirt and a pair of board shorts, he’s both wholesomely cute and yet sexy at the same time.

And, while you are surrounded by a group of rowdy boys, Wooyoung isn’t necessarily wrong. He always seems to have a knack for making anything romantic enough if he tries, attributed to his charming ways. A night of lovemaking (or whatever he has in mind) in your room with a beachside view is, all things considered, kind of romantic.

You purse your lips now. “Think they’re all asleep?”

“With how wasted they are? Absolutely,” Wooyoung says brightly. “I tripped over a shoe in our room and Hongjoong didn’t even move.”

It’s risky, sure, but the sudden yearning to be with Wooyoung was almost debilitating. There was no doubt you could both get away with having sex in a packed house, right? Either way, it doesn’t really seem to matter. You’ve already been persuaded, and Wooyoung knows.

He pulls you in for a kiss and you let him get carried away for a moment, reveling in the way he needily nips and sucks at your lower lip. Then, finding a second of clarity, you can be heard saying against his mouth breathlessly, “We’ll have to be quiet.”

“Mmm,” he hums distractedly. “So quiet.”

But that was like asking Wooyoung not to breathe. It’s this passing thought, and the way he pulls and tugs you over to sit on his lap as he sinks onto the edge of the bed in a desperate haste, that has you giggling. He leaves a trail of sloppy kisses down to the underside of your jaw and then along your throat.

You tug at the hair at the nape of his neck as you begin to rut your hips against his slowly. “You look really handsome today, baby. It’s nice seeing you so relaxed for once.”

His stare meets yours suddenly, all sparkling and awed. He grips your waist and presses you a little more firmly against his hips so you can feel his semi-hard dick against your inner thigh. “Ugh,” he sighs, “say that again and I’ll bust a nut right here and now.”

Another giggle meets his ears, but this time it’s a little less focused as it splinters off into a whimper the longer you continue to grind against him. You decide to humour him. “I saw your vlog. It was pretty.”

He audibly whines now, his heart threatening to burst through his chest. “Yeah? I worked hard on it.”

“Is that how you see me?” You think back to the video and how you looked, the soft music overlapping it all.

“Yeah,” he deadpans, “like that piece of washed up kelp you tried throwing at me today━”

“You’re so━”

“I’m joking. Of course that’s how I see you, but that’s only a fraction of what you look like to me. A camera doesn’t do you justice.”

“So you think I’m pretty?” You snicker.

“So pretty.” He kisses you again, this time a little more earnestly. He sighs dreamily against your lips, “No, actually. If my dick isn’t in you in the next minute, I’m gonna go insane.”

A delighted simper sounds from you. “Don’t even have to cum, just as long as you do━”

Your jaw drops open as you find an angle that has you pushing your clit against his clothed dick just right. But even though you had so innocently offered to only get him off, part of the fun was seeing how quickly and how many times he could make you cum before finishing himself off. You deserve it, after all.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he moans. He takes a moment to appreciate you in your current state. You, straddling his lap, eager hips moving against his with your brows pinched in concentration, the pretty material of your dress hiking up around your thighs. He reaches down, palms rough as they grip at the soft flesh of your thighs. “Look at you, already so needy for me. It’s so fucking sexy.”

Wooyoung fidgets beneath you. He burrows his face in the crook of your neck, nipping at your throat.

“How do you want me first, princess?” he asks sweetly now, peppering kisses along your throat, tongue soothing the marks he’s left behind. “Want my fingers in you?”

“N-No━” You croak. “Just wanna feel your dick.”

Excitement prickles at the tips of his fingers as he massages circles against your hips. “In your mouth or in you?”

“In me,” You rasp. “Now. Please, Woo━”

He marvels for a moment at how he’s so stupidly in love with you and your pretty words despite them having such dirty implications, and he hastens to please you. A wolfish grin tugs at his lips as he smothers them against your mouth, but then the giddy sensation of finally getting to have his cock buried in your walls overcomes him. He murmurs into a wet kiss, “As much as I love this dress, let’s get it off of you.”

He hastens to help you shove the straps of your dress down your shoulders, then off your arms. Then, he watches as you stand up to shimmy your way out of it, the material pooling at your feet, exposing your figure and the fact that you’re not even wearing a bra. The swell of your breasts meets his eyes first, and you’ve barely just kicked your way out of your panties when he’s pulling you onto his lap again, warm mouth latching onto one of your breasts. His lips wrap around your nipple, teeth nibbling on the sensitive bud. He can’t seem to get enough, moving to bite and suck at the soft flesh all over, shifting from one to the other, then down the valley of your breasts. A moan falls from your lips, hands pulling harshly at his hair as you push him further into your chest.

“Wooyoung…” You whine. “We gotta be quick.”

Though he wants nothing more than to mark up your chest all over, he relents only when he remembers that the boys are nearby. “Okay, okay━ Here━”

He grabs at your waist, shifting you around until you’re on your back splayed out beneath him. Towering over you, he pushes the material of his shorts down, pulling his aching dick from the tight confinements. Your eyes fall to the way he fists himself hurriedly, tip all red and glistening with precum, and the one prominent vein bulging along his length. You bite at your lip, legs instinctively spreading wider for him.

“Are we really gonna do this?” he asks, excited. “With the guys here?”

“Think it’s too late to ask when we’re both already naked,” You giggle. You remind him again, this time a little weaker, “Just remember to be quiet.”

He hums in response. Then, he teases you by running the length of his hard dick against your slick folds, already dripping with slick arousal.

“God, baby,” he groans, “you’re so wet already.” He taps the tip of his cock against your pussy, the sudden jolt sending your head spinning. As he rubs himself on you, the sticky wetness glides along the prominent vein of his length and spreads messily out to the top of your inner thighs. “Did I do all this to you?”

“Woo, no teasing,” You chastize in a small whine. A shiver runs down your spine at the feeling, and you hate having to resist all his teasing touches. “What if someone tries coming in?”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Let them. If it’s Seonghwa, even better. I can finally get payback for when he purposely ate some girl out on my bed.”

You snort lazily, stifling your giggles. “Focus, baby.”

“I am focused,” he says smugly. He emphasizes this by pressing his dick a little harder against your folds, teasing the tip of it against your entrance. “With you spread out like this for me, all sexy━ Fuck, I’m so focused.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is that the thought alone of one of the boys walking in on the both of you is enough to excite him to no end. He can imagine it now, one of them wandering into the room while you’re writhing beneath Wooyoung, taking his dick so well, moaning nothing but his name. He yearns to feel you all at once, hurrying to please you.

Without warning, he pushes himself into you, cock stretching you wide in just the way you both like. Almost immediately, low gasps and groans sound from the both of you.

“Ah, f-fuck! Woo━” You smother your sudden cries with a hand clamping over your mouth.

“Shit, I know,” he sputters for air. His voice is heavy in your ear, a low grunt only for you to hear. “You feel so fucking good, baby━”

His head is swimming even just at the way your walls wrap around his tip so snug. He pushes himself into you the rest of the way, bottoming out with a sudden forceful and indulgent thrust when━

The headboard slams against the wall, exceptionally loud.

“Fuck, Wooyoung━ Woo━” You grip at his arms. “The bed.”

His eyes meet yours, stunned momentarily as you wait and listen. A minute passes, but the house continues to remain silent.

“It’s okay. Even if they do hear, it’s not as if they probably won’t know what we’re doing,” Wooyoung points out, matter-of-fact. “We haven’t exactly been very careful lately.”

“Still,” You insist. Your walls throb around his hard dick, desperate for some sort of movement. “It’ll give me some peace of mind.”

His heart swoons at your timidness, and though he has fun teasing you, he would never actually want to risk getting caught by one of the boys (however many close calls he’s already had with you) or, worse, upsetting you to the point of no return.

In the next moment, Wooyoung pulls out of you, then pushes back in again, this time less forceful. He swears he tries to be wary of the bed and of making too much noise but, much to both of your dismay, while the frame doesn’t bang against the wall too noticeably, the bed still creaks beneath you.

Wooyoung grits his teeth. He tries again, then one more time, and though your head lolls back at the sensation of him stretching you wide, you meet his gaze with your own apprehensive hazy one. Even Wooyoung’s patience is wearing thin when all he wants to do is tear you apart ━ that, and the slight creak of the bed is enough to start driving him insane.

“Fuck this,” his pace stutters to a halt, “let’s get on the floor. Can you get on your hands and knees for me, baby?”

“Good idea.” Your heart jolts in your chest from the excitement.

Within a matter of seconds, he’s parting from you, leaving you momentarily stunned at the loss of warmth. He helps you to your feet so that the both of you can sink to the floor on your knees. Before you can drop into all fours, Wooyoung stops you by reaching out for the blanket on the bed and tucking it underneath the both of you, but mostly to soften the ground underneath your knees. When he catches you surveying him with a fond gleam in your eyes, he quirks a brow.

“What? It’s just so you don’t get too uncomfortable,” he says sweetly, peppering a few kisses along your shoulder. “Is this good?”

“Amazing.” Your heart swells at all his gentle touches. You catch his lips on yours, faintly murmuring, “I love you. Like, so much.”

You can feel his grin against your mouth. “You know I love you too. And as much as I would also love to hear you go on about how I’m the most perfect boyfriend, I need to be in you right now.”

A pretty giggle meets his ears, and he marvels for a second how you’re so quick to oblige. Propping yourself up on your elbows, your ass juts out in his direction. You give it a little tempting wiggle, and he hurries to position himself behind you. With one hand on the small of your back, he guides you back down his length.

“Ah━ Fuuuck━” He moans. “Arch your back a little more for me, baby.”

You do as you’re told, leaning forward just enough on your elbows and sticking your hips back to meet his as he sinks balls deep into your core. Then, he’s crumbling apart, all breathy panting as he tries to focus.

“Shit, baby━”

“Mmm━”

“You’re so tight. So wet. I’m not gonna last,” he pouts, as if it’s a genuine disappointment. He watches as he pulls out of your heat just enough before shoving himself back in, his dick covered in a glistening sheen of your arousal. You’re so damn wet, he wonders how he hasn’t slipped from you yet. His hands grip and tug at your ass, spreading you to see the way your cunt pulsates and stretches around his dick. So perfect, almost as if you were made for him. “Tell me. Wanna hear how good you feel right now.”

“S-So good,” You mumble drunkenly. “God, you’re so good, Woo. Fuck━!”

His gaze droops down to your breasts, bouncing with each thrust of his hips into yours. He reaches around and grabs at one of your boobs. The gentle shake of the soft flesh in his palms is always his favourite feeling, and he can’t help but squeeze at them now because, god, he really does love your tits. If he had all the time in the world, he would do anything to fuck himself between your boobs, and cum all over your chest ━ but that will have to wait for now.

“Ah━ Fuck━ Wish I could take my time with you right now,” he moans, planting sloppy kisses along your shoulder. “I can’t wait till we’re alone. Gonna take care of you so well, baby.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he grunts. He reaches down with his other hand, thumb pressing against the tight hole of your ass. The sensation alone is enough to have you nearly keeling over, a strangled cry of pleasure ripping from you. “Want you coming on my tongue so bad. Gonna fuck you against every surface too. You deserve it. You’re always so good to me, princess.”

“Only for you,” You whimper. If he wasn’t so pressed for time, the affirmation alone would have been more than enough to make him melt in your very hands. But his dick is still so hard, and your pussy is still so wet, all he can focus on is not slipping from your walls with every thrust of his hips. “Ah, Wooyoung! Y-You’re so━ So hard━”

You bite harshly at your lip when a loud moan threatens to spill from you. You bury your face in the blanket around you, clutching so tightly at the material. A part of Wooyoung finds it amusing, if only because, if the boys are awake and don’t hear your lewd moans, there’s no doubt they won’t be able to hear the sound of skin against skin as his hips slap against your ass.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he coaxes now. “Moan out loud for me.” When you shake your head, he snickers. “Want it harder? Will that help you?”

He gives an experimental roll of his hips, a little rougher than usual. It sends you teetering forward, a broken groan tumbling from you that’s left muffled by the blanket. He can hear you mumble wantonly, “Don’t be a tease.”

A cheshire-like grin spreads across his face. “Here━ Come sit on my dick. Wanna feel you so deep━”

His words make you moan softly, followed by the way he pulls out of you just quickly enough to sit back against the bed. He tugs you onto his lap and you follow suit, spreading your legs further apart as you sink onto his leaking dick. Down, down, down, until it almost feels as if he’s hitting your cervix, and suddenly you’re not so sure you’ll be able to keep it together any longer. That, mixed with the way he’s gazing at you, all hooded eyed and alluring, you’re very close to dissolving into a mess right in his very arms.

“Ah━ Ah━ Fuck, baby━” You grip at his shoulders as you adjust to the new feeling, hips squirming above his. “Wooyoung, please━”

But your words fall short. The desperate plea that hinges in your voice fades into nothing more than the urgent need to feel more of him, to have him absolutely wreck you, as you begin to rock your hips back and forth on his dick.

“Please what, baby?” he taunts lazily. But he knows what he’s doing, slyly beckoning you to make a mess, and moan for him.

His palms are warm as they slide up your sides, then around your back, hugging you close to his chest. He thrusts his hips up just once into you, sending you into a haste that has you lifting yourself up and then back down his cock. As you adopt a steady and reckless pace that has you bouncing on his length, he watches your every reaction. The way your face contorts at the sheer pleasure, brows pinched so hard in concentration, teeth sinking into your lower lip. Your hands reach out to thread through his long locks, pretty blonde tresses running through the seams of your fingers. You tug lightly at the root, earning a low groan from him.

“Fuck, Y/N━” His head rolls back against the mattress at your quick pace. “You’re so fucking sexy━ So desperate for my dick━ Ah━”

He moans suddenly, only this time it’s less muffled than before. Whether he does it the first time to tease you or simply because he had gotten carried away, you aren’t quite sure. Either way, it’s enough to startle you, even amongst the daze you’re in.

“Wooyoung━” Your voice is a small warning, but it lacks any severity when it splinters into a whine. “Not so loud.”

“They’re━ Ah, fuck━ sleeping━”

You meet his mischievous stare with your own heedful one. Your pace slows, if only just, and you’re certain this time that when he moans even louder, it’s entirely on purpose.

“Woo!” You clamp a hand softly over his mouth, smothering the tail end of his crude groan.

The grin that forms on his face beneath your hand is evident of his amusement of his toying with you but it turns sluggish quickly. The sight to see is hot enough, with the drowsy lopsided smirk poking out from underneath your hand as he watches you continue to ride him, now a measured gyrating against his own hips. When he realizes you’ve chosen to keep your hand over his mouth, he reaches up to grab a hold of your wrist, his large fingers splaying out and then up over your knuckles.

“Come on, baby. It’s okay. Let it out,” he hums. He kisses at your fingertips, tongue swiveling around to suck on your digits delicately. “Not even one tiny moan? Let me hear that pretty voice of yours.”

He can feel your thighs begin to shake around him and, judging by the crescendoing of whimpers tumbling from your mouth, he senses you’re close. Your free hand still grips at his hair, this time a little tighter as you try to anchor yourself in place to rock your hips a little faster. Wooyoung hisses delightfully at the feeling, a small lethargic chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest.

Rough hands grab at your waist now, shifting you around abruptly until you’re splayed out on the floor on your back with him hovering over you. His length stays wedged snugly in your walls, never once slipping, and as he settles against your chest, he lifts one of your legs up and over his shoulder. An animalistic growl slips from him at your pinched face, and the way your cunt starts to squeeze around him. With this angle that his hips pound into yours, his cock hits so deep into your core, pummeling against your cervix again and again.

“H-Harder━ Wooyoung━” You pant. “Please━ I’m gonna━”

Finally, a moan sounds from you. Loud and unabashed, a little broken and exhausted, but beautiful to Wooyoung’s ears nonetheless. In fact, it’s so sexy of a noise that it’s enough to nearly push him over the edge but he relents, if only just for a little longer.

“Ah, there’s my favourite sound,” he smirks. His tongue lavs at the underside of your jaw, and your hand finds itself tangled in his hair once more. “Gonna be a good girl and let the boys hear you now?”

You try with all your might to silence yourself, but the task proves more and more difficult. A few more slams of his hips into yours, and you’re crumbling apart right before his eyes.

“Fuck━ Wooyoung━”

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts into your ear. “Cum for me.”

As you come, the sudden gush of wetness around your core coats his length and he almost accidentally slips from your cunt. You’re clenched so tightly around him, Wooyoung feels as if he has to gasp for air to stay focused. His eyes still stay trained on you, watching as your face contorts as you writhe beneath him. But it’s your shameless moaning that sets him off, albeit still softer than usual but much louder than he was expecting from you with the boys so close by.

“Ah━ You’re so fucking hot━” he whines. “Gonna cum━”

Every thrust of his hips sends you bobbing up and down, and as you come down from your high the pleasurable feeling of his hard cock still burrowed in your sensitive walls has you whimpering softly. Your legs try to separate further, beckoning him for more.

“Cum in me, Youngie,” you beckon dazedly. “Wanna feel it so bad━”

“Oh, fuck━” he gasps. “Can I?”

“Y-Yes.”

“You’re so good to me, baby. Aren’t you?”

His pace quickens, hips snapping into yours urgently. One final shuddering thrust and he’s overwhelmed by his orgasm, cock pulsating within your aching walls as his cum fills you up. He has to bury his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his moans, listening to the sharp gasp for air you take when you feel his release.

He rides out his high in a few more leisure rolls of his hips, though he seems more concerned now with kissing your throat slowly. He gently unravels your leg from his shoulder, then slumps against you like the comfortable heavy weight that he is. His dick lays softening still buried within your walls, now leaking with his cum.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” You hear him sigh dreamily into your neck. “‘Cause you are.”

“Almost daily,” You concur with a giggle. Your own fingers smooth out his hair, fixing the messy strands, and he croons with delight. He leaves a trail of sweet kisses up along your throat, then your jaw, and then the corner of your mouth. Safe for the laboured breathing as you both try to calm your shrill hearts, you’re made aware so suddenly of just how quiet the room suddenly is. “There’s no way the guys slept through all of that.”

“I’m sure they did.” Wooyoung nibbles gingerly at your lip. “There’s nothing to worry about. Especially right now. I’m so tired. We can deal with the potential consequences later.”

You snort. “How did I know that’s exactly what you would say?”

You catch him smirking before he plants one last kiss on your lips. Somehow, he’s able to pry himself off of you long enough to slip into his shorts laying discarded on the floor before disappearing outside of the room into the darkened hallway. He returns moments later with a damp towel to help clean up the sticky mess between your legs, then tugs you back onto the bed with him.

“They’ll see you sneaking out of my room if you sleep here,” You point out through a yawn.

“I’ll get up before them,” he insists. “Just give me an hour with you, like this.”

You can’t resist the urge.

At the very least, you fall asleep first in his arms, his fingers playing with your hair. He must slip away from you at some point during the night, unraveling himself carefully from your sleeping figure to retreat to his own room. You’ll tell the boys eventually of your relationship with Wooyoung, you swear.

But for now, there, under the covers of the bed, you have all the time in the world to enjoy yourself with Wooyoung in pure, unadulterated silence.

In the morning when you wake up, you join your boyfriend with the rest of the boys downstairs in the kitchen for breakfast.

You’re the last to arrive, having wanted to take your time in the shower ━ a fact that Wooyoung laments, because he wanted nothing more than to shower with you to “save water” (which really just translates to more sex), but with only two bathrooms and nine people, the feat seemed impossible. Now, you sidle into the seat next to Wooyoung at the kitchen table, smiling down at him when his eyes flicker to you which seems to go unnoticed by the others.

“How was your night?” Yunho asks passively once you’ve settled into place. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod, as Wooyoung answers, “Best sleep of my life.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” This amused offhanded scoff comes from San under his breath. It causes Mingi to almost choke on his sip of orange juice as he snorts into the glass.

“What was that?” Wooyoung asks.

“Oh, nothing,” San says. The smirk on his face says otherwise. “Thought we heard some loud noises last night. It was weird.”

Then there’s Mingi, leaning across the table to catch your attention alone. He shoots you a more merciful look, though he still seems entertained nevertheless when he whispers to you, “You have something on your neck.”

Your hand instinctively clamps onto your throat, over the spot Mingi points to as you mentally curse yourself. While you had been so preoccupied the night before trying not to make any noise, you forgot to warn Wooyoung against leaving any noticeable marks on your body ━ a bad habit of his, and your fatal mistake for forgetting to check the morning after.

The others are fortunately not paying attention, already absorbed in their own conversations, but the horror of so clearly being found out by San and Mingi sends you into a frenzy. It even seems to alarm Wooyoung judging by the way he starts laughing nervously, though maybe that’s because your knee bashes against his under the table and sends him jumping in his seat.

Clearly, you have a lot of explaining to do. Eventually.

The last thing you hear San say before he and Mingi howl with laughter seems to make even the charmingly confident Wooyoung slightly frazzled, and leaves you all the more confused.

“Some romantic getaway, huh?” 

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[koriyue]

a little message from me ✉️

happy 2022, everyone! i hope the new year treats you well <3 🎐

2021 was such a surreal and bittersweet year for me. i started this blog back in february of last year in a spur of the moment decision and this little blog has become one of the best things to happen to me. thank you for giving me the opportunity to create. the kindness i’ve received since the start of my blog has been both unexpected and overwhelming. i am infinitely thankful for all the support i’ve received for my graphics. seeing people enjoy my works really lights a spark in my heart. and i hope,  somehow, i am able to reciprocate your love (even a little bit)! from the bottom of my heart, i sincerely thank you all <3

i’ve met so many wonderful people on tumblr, and i am eternally grateful for all the friendships i’ve made. you all make me so happy ♡ i cherish all of my silly interactions with all of you so so much. you all make me feel at home 🏠

however, as much as i loved creating on tumblr, it has taken a toll on me for the past couple of months. i’ll add it under a read more but essentially: 

i’m going to take a little break from making lockscreens / fulfilling requests to focus on other graphics + school! PLEASE STOP SENDING IN REQUESTS! MY REQUESTS ARE (AND HAVE BEEN) CLOSED!

please take care of yourselves this year! be healthy! and safe! 

hello! thank you for continuing to read :> kith/p 

i’m going to be 100% honest—i had considered leaving tumblr a couple months back. it was hard to stay on this platform with the chokehold school had on me. more importantly, however, i had begun to experience the burnout that came with content creation. i absolutely love to create, but it got to a point where i felt like i was stuck—both mentally and creatively. 

my creative drive began to die, and there was no way of reviving it. there was a little nasty voice in the back of my mind that warned me about disappointing everyone who viewed my work. as this blog began to grow a little, i grew scared knowing that so many people were looking at my graphics. i felt like i had to constantly improve and try new things and push myself continuously to create new and exciting content. i think i wrung myself dry constantly worrying about creating new designs and layouts and trying to make others happy and satisfied, that i forgot about myself and why i started to create in the first place. it was hard. trying to constantly create things that i thought would make others happy when i was exhausted. 

i felt like i always had to outdo myself in every graphic, and it left me so so tired. at the same time, because i was in such a mental rut, i felt like i was actually regressing in my designs. i wasn’t proud of anything i created and i scrapped design after design. all of them lacked the same love and dedication i held when i first began. 

so! i will be taking a small break from creating lockscreens. i’m sorry, but i need to hold off on the requests sitting in my ask box for the time being. while i loved making lockscreens initially, they’ve become one of the scariest things to create for me. the pressure that comes with knowing that people are actually using them made me scared to experiment in case people were disappointed with the results. i felt scared. and caged. (and ofc, no one is to blame! my drive to make them,,, just kinda,, vanished). i was in a constant tug-of-war of wanting to create lockscreens that i thought everyone would like instead of things that i like. i don’t want to be a lock screen account. i don’t only want to make lock screens, but i feel like they’ve taken precedence over everything else. 

i want to experiment with my style again and make things for myself. i’ve drifted from my initial intention to grow as a designer and seem to have lost sight of my design style.  it sounds selfish, and i apologize for suddenly word vomiting all over the place, but i want to take a little break. 

please be patient with me for the next upcoming weeks! i will continue to try and create some cool things soon! and i will fulfill all of the requests still in my box! i pinky promise! <3 

[doshmanziari]

Most English-speaking people today who are aware of videogame developer T&E Soft only know of them through two titles: the first Hydlide (specifically the, by 1987, dated/inferior NES re-release) and Virtual Hydlide. Both of these have acquired a pretty undue notoriety, mostly encouraged by the exaggerations of e-personalities intent on making everything out to be either AWESOME or LMAO TERRIBLE, since that’s what gets the most attention. It’s better to see Hydlide in its PC-6001/PC-88 context as an innovator of the action-adventure-RPG genre, and the influence for the first two Ys games’ format (also little-known: Ys III: Wanderers from Ys was modeled on the design of Tritorn 2, a game by developer Sein/Xain/Zain Soft; it even copied some of the settings!). Understood as such -- compare the PC releases of Hydlide to, e.g., the original Dragon Slayer, also released for the PC-88 in 1984 --, we can also begin to understand its popularity as a consequence of something more than millions of Japanese citizens being deprived and deluded. Virtual Hydlide is noteworthy too as a strange and perhaps unique attempt at crafting a lightly randomized, score- and time-based 3D arcade game for a home console using the overworld + dungeon crawler format. Its most significant downside is a miserable framerate. I get why this would put people off from playing it, especially since it’s always conflicted with the design’s speedrun-like emphases. But if this were the worst thing you could knock a game for, the medium would be specially positioned among all others for a minimum of faults (hint: it isn’t).

With that preamble out of the way, I’d like to bring to unaware readers’ attention Rune Worth 2 and 3, released for the PC-98 in 1991. As usual, if your only resources on the English-speaking Internet for videogames are Wikipedia and MobyGames, you would probably never know about either of these (Wikipedia cites the first Rune Worth (1989) for the MSX, but says nothing of the sequels; MobyGames does not even cite the former). The Rune Worth series was, by all appearances, T&E Soft’s successor to Hydlide, and while it is formally organized as a trilogy, the three-months-gap between the second and third installment’s release, their discounted price, and the way in which 3 picks up right where 2 leaves off (to the extent of being able to transfer your character data from one to the other), means that, really, there are two full entries. Much of this information was laid out on a dedicated stream for both these games by Macaw45, who has dedicated years to researching, cataloguing, and exposing people to lesser-known videogames. If you can’t read Japanese, or just don’t want to play the games yourself, the embedded video would be your best bet for seeing them in action.

There are many things to say about Rune Worth 2/3 -- the dramatic introductory sequence preceding the main menu, the luxuriant sprawl of its public spaces (one can, for example, go out to the first castle’s rooftop, partitioned into a little pseudo maze, despite no requirement for doing so), its equal emphasis on setting, story, and action -- but since I’ve elected to make this into an image-based post, I want to illustrate how amazing these games look. Even from a distance, many PC-98 games have a distinct and highly abstract composure; and, looking at them up close, where the unlikeliness of certain chromatic and textural decisions make themselves known, it’s a wonder over and over again how representation emerges from what I described in a post about Super Hydlide as “an ornate and time-worn carpet.” The resemblance to a tapestry is especially obvious with Rune Worth 3 and its faded floral border depicting a grape vine. The overall visual splendor of these mosaics on a PC-98 monitor would, of course, be all the subtler and greater.

Over time, a handful of early- to mid-90s Japanese PC videogames have gotten more exposure in the West as the consumption of anime and nostalgic sentiment have grown hand-in-hand (not infrequently to pathologically anti-social effect). The bulk of these have tended to be of the visual novel/eroge type. YU-NO: A Girl Who Chants Love at the Bound of this World, released in 1996 for the PC-98, is a particularly popular example, in part because of its soundtrack by Ryu Umemoto. For me, the in-game artwork for these titles can be technically commendable, but is otherwise not very exciting. When I look at Rune Worth 2 or 3, it sometimes reminds me of looking at artist Kathleen Ryan’s beady sculptures of rotting fruit and marveling at the surprising vibrancy and coloristic range within putrefaction: the intersection of the beautiful and ugly, and its fructifying of the grotesque. This extends to a number of PC-88 titles too, like Sorcerian (Falcom, 1987) and DIOS (Zain Soft, 1989). In some cases, there is a remarkable convergence of visual grit/granularity and fidelity, maybe exemplified best of all by the PC-98 release of Xak III: The Eternal Recurrence (MicroCabin, 1993). But even there I find myself missing the marvelous polychromaticism of these two Rune Worth games. The intention for, say, Super Nintendo games to be played and seen on CRT TVs has never been an impediment to contemporary indie developers mimicking their look for modern LCD monitors. Even if it feels unlikely, then, I wonder if we will one day see a small revival of that fibrous, loom-woven PC-88/PC-98 look.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You can support my writing, music, and artwork on Patreon.

[edendaphne]

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 19

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

–––––

CHAPTER 19: ATTACCA

Music glossary:        Attacca - "To attack at once"; used as a direction in music at the end of a movement to begin the next without pause

–––––

(Mood music: "The Conversation" - Pearl Django)

Being mere months away from graduating lycée meant that their group of friends didn’t have as many classes together, due to their diverse individual interests and talents. However, they always made sure to make time to hang out after school before their extracurricular activities began.

And thus, Adrien, Nino, and Alya made their way to the classroom where the art club gathered to meet up with Marinette. From there, Adrien would make his way to either fencing lessons or Chinese, depending on the day of the week. Marinette would join him on days when he had Chinese (as she’d become determined to master the language ever since her uncle visited from Shanghai a few years back), Alya would go to her journalism club, and Nino would travel to his part-time internship at the local recording studio.

“–and the backlogs just keep piling up!” Alya spoke as they walked, voice full of vigor and excitement. “I’ve had to recruit yet another mod to help me keep order in the forums! Especially since the Ladyblog has started going international and we’ve had to organize servers in different languages. You wouldn’t believe how crazy it’s gotten in there recently!”

“Dang, babe,” Nino interjected. “Sounds like things are super rough for you right now.”

“Not really, more busy than anything. Especially because I have that big research article due next week, there’s just not enough hours in the day to try to read everything that goes on in there. But I have my mods report to me daily, ‘cause I always like to stay on top of everything that goes on in the chats!”

“What’s gotten everyone so riled up in the Ladyblog lately?” Adrien chimed in. “I don’t recall it being nearly this busy last year.”

The trio entered the art club’s classroom and settled down at the table where Marinette sat, getting her various sketches organized. The art teacher was quite easy going, so they didn’t have to talk in hushed whispers and could come and go as they pleased.

“Well, to be honest, it’s because of Chat Noir,” Alya replied.

Adrien tried to contain his surprise. “R-really? What– uhhh, what do people have to say about him?”

He winced inwardly. He knew he shouldn’t ask. But curiosity got the better of him today. Maybe learning the news through the filter or Alya’s paraphrasing instead of reading the negative comments firsthand would lessen the sting of what people said about him.

Marinette whipped her head around at the mention of his alter ego. “Wait, what about Chat Noir?” she inquired.

“Girl,” Alya replied, her voice filled with renewed exuberance. “You would not believe how much we’ve had to censor and moderate all the inappropriate things people have been saying!”

Adrien flinched in his seat. “Wow… do people really hate him that much?” he asked, trying to conceal the dejection in his voice.

Alya busted out into loud guffaws. “Hate?! Dude, most people don’t hate him; they LOVE him! By ‘inappropriate’ comments, I mean the kinda stuff you wouldn’t want your grandma to catch you reading! There’s a whole giant section dedicated to his new fan club!” she said as she removed her glasses so she could wipe away the tears of laughter.

“WHAT?!” Adrien squawked in confusion, his face feeling hotter than the ovens back at the bakery. “A fan club??”

Marinette burst into uncontrollable snickering. “Has it really gotten that bad?!”

Nino joined in, “Bro! Adrien, I can’t believe you haven’t heard Alya rant about these rabid fans before! They call themselves the ‘Noir Nation’, and the kind of things they’ve been writing would make adult romance authors blush like schoolgirls!”

Alya nodded, thoroughly amused. “And that’s not including all the fanfiction people have been writing.”

“Wait– the WHAT?! There’s fanfiction?!!” Marinette gaped in shock, as if she’d been hit in the face with an enormous pie. “Alya, how come I never knew about this?!”

“Why? You wanna read em? Girl, you’ll get no judgment from me. If you wanna check ‘em out for yourself, just go check under the hashtag ‘Ladynoir’.”

Marinette stammered as her arms flailed in her bewilderment, accidentally knocking her phone off the table and onto the floor, her eyes bigger and rounder than Adrien had ever seen them. “They have a ship name?!” she screeched.

“Just mind the ratings though,” Alya advised. “Some of them can get pretty steamy. You wouldn’t want someone to catch you reading those in public,” she added with a wink.

Marinette continued to sputter incoherently. “NO, I am NOT gonna read it!! It would be different if they were fictional characters, but I could never read fanfiction about real people!”

Alya raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Mm-hmm… Sure.”

Marinette’s hands flew to her face, trying to hide how red her entire face had gotten, and released a long squeak that resembled a hamster on helium. As shocked as Adrien was about these rather unexpected news, seeing Marinette’s over-the-top reaction brought a wide grin to his face and he busted out laughing.

He bent over to retrieve Marinette’s phone, since she was too busy being mortified to notice it had fallen to the floor. As he was about to hand it back, the screen lit up and Adrien saw the lockscreen wallpaper: it was the same photo of Ladybug and Chat Noir that he himself had saved earlier that day. He smiled, not exactly sure what to make of it, but finding it adorable that she’d liked the photo enough to set it as her lockscreen.

He tapped her shoulder, waiting for her to respond. She emerged from behind her impromptu hand shield and turned her head, then her eyes widened once again as soon as she saw what Adrien was showing her. She jolted straight up, stiff as a board, and her eyes met his, cheeks turning tomato red. He winked at her, amused about this little secret between them, and handed back her phone without a word.

Marinette accepted it with a meek-sounding, “Thanks,” looking like she wanted to explain the photo, but not able to do so unless she wanted Alya and Nino to find out that she was potentially a… ahem– “Ladynoir” shipper.

Switching the conversation to something else (which Marinette seemed to be eternally grateful for), the group chatted until it became time for them to scatter to their next destinations.

With a wave, Adrien exited the classroom and headed towards fencing practice, one of the few activities he decided to stick with despite not being forced to participate. Fencing, along with Chinese lessons, were not only enjoyable, but were also quite useful. Sadly, he didn’t have access to a piano anymore, so he wasn’t able to pursue that hobby for the time being. Hopefully later down the line, when things had settled down and he’d found his own place to live, he’d be able to finance one.

Thinking about the future had become an exciting pastime instead of an anxiety-inducing one, and it was all thanks to his friends and those he cared about. He smiled as he reached the door to the locker rooms, continuing to daydream of what was to come.

(Mood music: "Recollection 3" - Shirō Sagisu (BLEACH OST, "The Diamond Dust Rebellion")

Adrien finished getting dressed for fencing, his head still blissfully floating in the clouds. He stored his belongings into his assigned locker, shutting it with a loud clang, which echoed through the empty room.

Huh...? Empty?

He swiveled his head around, surprised that there was no one beside him. He stood up and began walking down the large room, peeking down the other locker rows looking for his classmates; but there was nobody.

Where was everyone? There’s no way that every single one of them was running late. Had his lessons been cancelled and he’d somehow missed a text message or email? He began heading back towards his locker to check his phone for any schedule changes.

Before he reached his destination, however, heavy thudding footsteps broke the eerie silence. Adrien whipped his body around to greet whoever they belonged to.

The owner of those footsteps was one of the last people Adrien expected to meet here.

“Gaspard?!”

Adrien stood agape, face to face with his old bodyguard, whom he hadn’t seen in a couple of years; not since he’d resigned and moved out of the country. Nathalie had mentioned that in his resignation letter, Gaspard said that he’d become involved in an overseas business venture involving the market of rare action figures. Nevertheless, Adrien couldn’t help but suspect that his father’s ill temper and poor treatment of their employees was the true reason for his departure.

Adrien’s first reaction was surprise and joy, and he rushed forward to greet and embrace him. However, as he approached and got a better look at the man’s face, Adrien’s mood instantly morphed into confusion and apprehension. There was something odd about his eyes.

Something wasn’t right. Why was Gaspard here? And why now?

He came to a halt about a meter before reaching him. An oppressive weight seemed to press in all around him, and he had to suppress a shiver. “Wait. Gaspard, did–” he gulped, “–did my father send you?”

His old bodyguard did not reply, but took a heavy step towards him. Adrien stepped back.

“Please… I can’t go back. I live somewhere else now, and I’m very happy there. Whatever he told you about the situation, it’s a lie.”

His bodyguard continued to approach him, his stare vacant and unsettling.

Fighting the urge to panic, he pleaded, “You don’t have to do this. If he’s offered you compensation, I can match it; it’ll just take me a bit of time. But we can work something out, right?? For old time’s sake?”

He continued walking backwards until he bumped into something firm, but it wasn’t a wall; it was another person. Before he could turn around, they grabbed him by the shoulders, detaining him and preventing him from running away.

He was about to shout for help when something sharp jabbed him on the side of the neck, injecting a cold liquid. Adrien’s eyes grew wide in terror.

Shit.

Adrien swore as he jerked away, elbowing whoever was behind him and managing to break free. Rubbing at the spot where the syringe had stabbed him, he glanced back to take a look at his other assailant, only to see... another Gaspard?

Why are there two of him??

This was wrong. Gaspard didn’t have a twin; he knew that for a fact. He’d worked for the Agrestes ever since Adrien was a toddler and was too young to even pronounce his name correctly (hence the nickname “Gorille”, which stuck around for years afterwards). Additionally, there was something uncanny, otherworldly, even, about the way these two men looked and moved.

He shook himself out of his stupor. He didn’t have time to contemplate any possible explanations. He had to get out of there fast.

He sprinted towards the exit, but only managed to travel a few paces before he lost his footing and tripped. He fell to the ground hard, almost hitting his head on a nearby bench. As he struggled to get up, he realized that his fingers and toes had already gone numb.

Not good.

Time was running out. Adrenaline coursed through him and, with a grunt, he hefted himself to his feet and scrambled towards the exit, as fast as he could despite a heavy limp. Though his heart was hammering and his legs felt like they were filled with sand, he pushed himself, concentrating on reaching the door.

After taking a few steps, however, he realized that even if he did manage to exit the locker room, the area beyond was an open courtyard. Meaning he wasn’t going to be able to reach someplace safe before getting caught. He had no choice but to transform into Chat Noir, and hopefully Plagg’s powers and strength could help him escape and find somewhere to hide.

He’d scarcely uttered the first syllable in the transformation phrase when he was tackled to the ground. A giant hand swiftly covered his mouth and Adrien felt his hands get bound together with thick zip ties behind his back. A muffled scream of writhing frustration made its way up his throat as his limbs became more and more useless by the second.

No… This can’t be happening! Please, this can’t be how it all ends!

Just when his life had finally gained a semblance of normalcy and he’d found happiness again, it would get ripped away and he would disappear without a trace, leaving everyone to wonder what had happened to him. Leaving his friends to think that Gabriel had pulled him from school and they would never see him again. Leaving Ladybug to wonder if Chat had abandoned her forever. Leaving her to fight Hawkmoth alone. Again.

He couldn’t let that happen. He thrashed and struggled as furiously as he could, fighting the feelings of overwhelming helplessness that threatened to consume him. Nearing despair, he was too distracted to notice Plagg phrasing through the wall, away from the skirmish, in search of the only person who could save him.

(Mood music: "Run" - Ludovico Einaudi)

Marinette fidgeted with her pencil, her feet wiggled and bounced under her desk. She didn’t understand; when she’d arrived at the art club, her head had been filled with inspiration and ideas that she’d been excited to draw and execute. However, at the moment, her mind was filled with noise and disquietude.

Having had enough, she excused herself to visit the restroom. Once she’d walked far enough from the classroom, she opened her purse to talk to Tikki about her current dilemma.

“It’s the same feeling as last night, Tikki! Except that would mean one of three possibilities. Option A.) It’s nothing and I’m going crazy. And— don’t give me that look, Tikki! I can see what you’re thinking and I don’t have time for your cheeky sass right now!” The kwami snickered while Marinette cleared her throat and continued, “Option B.) that Chat is here, at this school, which is impossible because his school’s on the other side of the city, that’s why he always leaves the house super early for his long commute.”

Tikki opened her mouth and looked like she was about to say something, but then didn’t (...or couldn’t?).

Marinette resumed, “Or, C.) that my–– what do I even call it? My ‘Spidey sense’??–– that it’s got a long distance mode, and Chat is all the way across Paris and he’s in trouble! But what am I supposed to do about that from here?! I wouldn’t even know where to begin looking!”

Tikki shrugged. “Follow your instincts, Marinette. There’s no harm in taking a quick look around the school, right?”

Marinette groaned. “UGH! It doesn’t make sense!! Am I going to get interrupted like this all the time from now on?” She shook her head resolutely. “No. I can’t just go off on random field trips every single time I feel a random fit of anxiety. I’m sure it’s just leftover jitters from last night. I’m supposed to call Master Fu after school anyway; he can help me figure everything out. I’m just gonna go back to class and forget about it.”

Tikki frowned, not quite convinced, but deciding not to press further.

Marinette made her way back to the classroom in a frustrated huff. But as her hand reached to turn the handle, the feelings of danger and urgency multiplied tenfold. Without a word, she sprinted away in the opposite direction, not even knowing where she was running to, only knowing she had to get there immediately.

She reached the large common area of the school downstairs. Her head whipped around, frantically searching for something, anything. In her haste, she didn’t notice a small black creature zoom into her open purse.

A few moments later, she felt a frantic tugging at her shirt from below.

“Marinette!! Over there! Check the locker room, quick!!!” Tikki whisper-screamed as she peeked outside the purse, her tone uncharacteristically frantic.

Marinette nodded, then sprinted to the locker room.

“Wait! You should transform first!” Tikki added.

No time!

“Marinette, wait!!”

Despite Tikki’s protests, Marinette raced towards the double doors, tackling them open.

Three sets of eyes landed on her as she skidded to a halt, but only one pair consumed her entire attention. She gasped in horror, hands flying to her face as she stared at what was occurring in front of her. Adrien let out a desperate, muffled scream urging her to run.

His panicked voice snapped her out of her dazed shock; but instead of running, she stood her ground, eyes darting back and forth across the area searching for something useful. The room was remarkably barren except for a lone broom a short distance away from her. She grabbed it and leaped towards the closest attacker (the one holding Adrien down), swinging it like a baseball bat.

The man didn’t even try to avoid the hit; the broomstick merely bounced off the side of his face where Marinette had hit him. She frowned in confusion, then tried hitting him again, bringing the stick down on the top of his head like an axe.

SNAP.

The end of the broom flew off, and Marinette stared in shock at the broken broomstick.

“What the hell are you?!” Marinette exclaimed, shifting her grip on the shortened wooden stub.

She pounced at the second bodyguard, bringing her weapon down in a stabbing motion; but he swatted at her hand, disarming her. She yelped in pain, leaping backwards to get some distance between them.

She was outmatched. The only strategy available was to use their own size against them. With a feint to the side, she shot at his legs for a takedown, hoping to catch him off balance. He called her bluff and shoved her backwards with his giant palm, then kneed her in the stomach.

Winded from the impact, Marinette doubled over with a gasping wheeze, fighting with all her might to keep herself from collapsing onto the ground. She forced herself upright and attacked again. With a clumsy jerk, she lunged forward, swinging wild punches at her opponent. The shots connected but his expression barely changed; it was like beating a breathing punching bag.

The bodyguard backhanded Marinette across the face. Pain shooting across her cheek, she staggered, almost losing her balance. In her daze, she watched helplessly as the man reared his arm back. There was no chance to dodge. His fist connected with her abdomen, delivering a liver shot that shut down her entire body. She crumpled to the floor as if boneless. She tried to call out Adrien’s name, but her mouth merely opened in a silent scream.

Marinette could hear Adrien’s distressed screaming, but it sounded distant, like they were underwater. The edges of her vision grew black and fuzzy, the entire room dissolving around her. She had to consciously force her lungs to inhale, but couldn’t fill them all the way, as if a boulder had been placed on top of her chest.

Faintly, she felt herself getting picked up off the ground and carried away over someone’s shoulder. Disoriented and semi-blinded, the sudden movement and rough jostling made her head spin and gave her vertigo. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it all out.

A few moments later, they stopped moving, and she heard a door burst open. Where were they? Before she could gather her senses, she was in the air, thrown several meters away, landing with a hard thud. A sharp pain traveled down her body as she rolled into the wall across them. The shriek that tried to escape her throat emerged as a strained, shallow whine.

The man stomped out, leaving her alone in the room. “Stop…!” she rasped out, managing to tilt her neck upwards, head pounding.

The bodyguard slammed the door shut, followed by a bang and a clattering sound that could only mean he’d broken the doorknob of whatever room she was in.

Marinette's vision became more and more blurred. At the verge of losing consciousness, she fought to keep her eyes open as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

No, she couldn’t pass out! She had to save Adrien! Stay awake, Marinette, stay awake!!

She bit down on her lip hard, focusing on the sharp sting, on the swelling that was already forming around her right eye, forcing herself to feel the pain her body was in. At this moment, feeling pain was better than falling unconscious. She concentrated on her breathing, slowly regaining her senses.

She reached down to open her purse and get Tikki’s help… only to be met with emptiness. Panic settled in her gut as she realized that sometime during the skirmish, the purse had slipped off her shoulder. She sat up, slowly, so she wouldn’t risk feeling faint again from the change in positions.

She squinted, adjusting her eyesight to the darkness of the room. It seemed to be some sort of supply closet. After a failed few attempts to stand, she crawled towards the door instead, careful not to bump into the crates and shelves that filled the area.

The girl eyed the broken doorknob wearily. She was pretty proficient at lockpicking and breaking into things, but not as good at breaking out. Her only hope was that Tikki would be able to find her… if she was even nearby.

She swore to herself. Why had she rushed in and attacked two grown ass men (who, incidentally, may or may not be supernatural to boot!) instead of hiding and creating a strategy?! Now she was useless, Tikki was gone, and Adrien was surely on his way to get auctioned to the highest bidder in the criminal black market and ransomed off for an enormous sum. Great job, Marinette. Adrien’s been abducted and it’s all your fault.

Gathering all the determination she could muster, she tried to call out for help. But her voice was still too hoarse, and only a weak croak came out. She clenched her fists, grumbling irritably. Time for a different approach. Somehow, she needed to make noise.

After a brief search, she found a hard, metallic object that she could use to hammer on the door. She tested it out; it was surprisingly effective. She doubled her efforts, making as big a racket as possible. Hopefully, it would only be a matter of time before somebody heard her, let her out, and she could go find Adrien.

She couldn’t let anything else happen to another loved one. Not again.

–––––

I'M REEEAAAAALLY SORRY FOR THAT CLIFFHANGER JSHDKFJHSKDF ᕕ(╯°д°)ᕗ  I tried splitting up the sections differently but it didn't really flow as well.

But the next chapter is almost done, so I'll have it ready by next weekend!!

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Orange Soda: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: you’re training with one of the strongest sorcerers in the world, when - for some reason - a secret slips out between you that you’ve both been hiding for a long time. 

words: 1,047

tw: sexual thoughts

“Take your hood off.” 

The command was met with some resistance, but you obediently remove the hood from your curls, exposing them to the wind and pending rainstorm. The yellow grass beneath your feet crunches with every nervous step you take toward Geto, and the hidden sun above seems to abandon you now. 

“Take off your jacket.” You slide the hoodie off of your arms, letting it fall to the ground in a heap of fabric behind you. Your bare arms are uncovered to the chill of the day, and instinctively, you place your hands on your goosebumps. “Hands by your sides.” Suguru’s commands - short and to the point - feel more like a punishment than training. “Chin up.” 

One of his long fingers shoots out to knock your chin a little higher, and at the contact, you flinch. Every touch from Geto sends electric tingles up and down your body, emphasizing your current weakness for his good looks and charming demeanor. It’s slightly easier to push your feelings for him aside as you focus on your discomfort, however. Somehow, you gathered the courage to ask Geto for help, and he took the opportunity to drag you off to a private spot to train in peace. 

There had been no signs of any requited feelings from him; not even a hint that maybe he had any for you other than that of a brother. He had insisted on protecting you from any serious injury while you trained - and it was a small mercy you knew stemmed from a familial kindness. Apart from helping you prepare, Suguru had also made you a part of his small circle of friends, taking you with them whenever they went out for leisure activities. This time spent with them only deepened your desire to become stronger and more valuable, as well as driving your crush on Geto a little more each day. 

So here you were with one of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers in Tokyo, training in the middle of a plain field. And it just so happens that you want this same man to wreck your guts. 

“I want you to close your eyes and tell me what you feel.” You close your eyes and allow sensations to come to the forefront of your mind. 

“I feel cold.” The wind knocks against the short hem of your skirt, chilling your thighs as you stand alone. 

“Go deeper inside of yourself. Forget the external, y/n.” 

“I feel…” Scared. Inexperienced. Insecure. Feelings you had pushed down bubble up to the surface as if they were about to spill over past your lips and eyelids. 

“Tell me what you feel inside.” You didn’t even hear him approach you from behind, but when Suguru whispered in your ear, a tingle ran down your spine, making you shiver in the cold, secluded space. 

“Unsure.” 

“When I dragged you out of that alleyway after defeating that curse user, were you unsure then?” 

“No.” You hadn’t been unsure at all. The way he made quick work of the curse user lit a fire inside of you that had slowly died out over the past two months, regrettably. 

“What happened to the brave woman I saw behind me, then? Hmm?” Geto’s light hands touch the tops of your shoulders, making your eyes fly open and your body stiffens. “Where did she go?” You exhale shakily, feeling his fingers slowly tighten, and part of you hopes that he won’t move, that he’ll just stay there whispering into the wind. 

“I… I don’t know.” 

“Close your eyes; your breathing is uneven.” His hands drop from your body, and you relax, closing your eyes again. He paces around you, stopping when he’s facing away from you but still close enough to touch. “Think back to that night. What drove you into that alley?” 

“You.” You reply without thinking. Your eyes open again, and your hand flies to your lips, but once the words are out, you can’t take them back. 

The wind stops, and Geto turns around to look at you, expressionless.

“I- I mean, you were so dedicated… to getting rid of that curse user that I--” Before you can finish your sentence, he begins to approach you. Suguru’s lips press together slightly, but his eyes go from expressionless to impossibly soft as they search yours. 

“Don’t lie to me.” The sound of his voice is serious, making your insides quake with fear. “Why did you follow me into that alley?” He breathes, closing the space between you, his freshwater scent enveloping you. As you look up into his black orbs of nothingness, you consider telling another lie. Would Suguru notice? Or would he breeze past your confession like the wind he had stopped?

“I followed you because…” Your mind couldn’t come up with a lie fast enough. The truth would have to do. “I followed you because I wanted to get to know you. I wanted to learn how to manage my cursed energy, but you intrigued me.” 

“Do I still intrigue you?” 

Oh, there was no denying this. But still, you hesitate. Geto laces a finger around one of your curls, staring at the spiral intently while he awaits your response.

“Yes.” You finally whisper, and his eyes seem to brighten for just a moment before he pulls his hand away. 

“And this intrigue… Does it go into any dangerous territory?” Past the waistband of your pants and around your back, you think, but those words don’t escape your lips. You shake your head no, but Suguru hums in disbelief. “Are you sure, y/n?” You shake your head no again, and a smirk pulls at his lips while a hand wraps around your back, pulling your hips against his. 

“Geto, I --” 

“Stop talking,” he murmurs before capturing your lips with his and gently pressing against them. Your eyes flutter shut, and sparks fly behind your lids, the tingling sensation returning with full force. When he pulls away, you feel the heat rise in your cheeks, despite the temperature still being close to freezing cold. “I’ve waited so long to do that.” Suguru’s eyes flick open, and he huffs a little, his breathing uneven. 

“You’ve only waited two months…” you reply, equally as breathless. 

“It felt like an eternity.” 

[erodasghosts]

memories & misconceptions | harry styles

prologue: the summer flashback

↳ read Thea’s version (tom holland fic) by @peeterparkr​

song: adore you - harry styles

after months of working on this with nancy (@peeterparkr) i am very excited to be posting the first part of our new conjoined series. this will be two seperate fics, telling two different stories. they are each reader inserts, but the harry reader in the tom fic is named kat, and the tom reader in this fic is called thea (if that makes sense?) so you kind of get to pick which you want to focus in on more :) but to get the full experience read both!

story summary: Not every relationship can last forever, but what decides when it ends? Is it the memories of when things were, or is it the misconceptions of the present. What is stronger in matters of the heart when love and friendship becomes a choice? Does pride dim our devotion enough for it to be forsaken?

And is obstinacy strong enough to erase the memory of a hopeful summer night? When a group of friends are reunited after years of unspoken truths and turbulent grudges,  old arguments and fights might ricochet, and though their history might be dense enough to drown them, it might be the one thing to keep them afloat. 

prologue summary: the beginning of what was thought to be an endless love, and of the distance that would only grow further.

pairing: harry styles x artist!reader

warnings: none?

word count: ~9.3k

a/n: i hope you enjoy, and please give any feedback!

story masterlist

next chapter

masterlist

The wind brushed in through Harry’s bedroom window, pushing on the curtains with a calm and warm air. Summer always seemed so distant or quick to end, never stuck too long in the heat of it.

Summer struck you similarly to a craving that one can’t quite shake. People seem to dream of summer when finding themselves in the cold winter snow, yet wishing they could have just one last summer night when it is coming to an end. But summer was never meant to last for an eternity, and there were definitely things that no one wouldn’t miss when it did finally end.

Summer, though with its pleasant sunny days and warm nights, is about much more than just its weather. It was the time to be surrounded by friends, and an opportunity to feel that you had a supportive family. This was when lonely nights felt less empty, because you at least had the endless opportunities to see everyone together.

It was when new beginnings seemed to take place. There was a sense of security and possibly even courage that was placed within you at this time, allowing you to take some chances you might never risk otherwise. Even if summer wasn’t forever, and even if that courage would fade, you would try to take it in as if it was never ending. It was more beneficial and less damaging to just accept things as they came.

With the opportunity for new beginnings, you wondered what possibilities still would lie ahead. And not just for yourself, but your friends as well. You thought that maybe now, with summer getting closer to its end, you could find some of that temporary courage to use between yourself and Harry, and maybe Thea or Tom would find some for one another. Because if there was ever a time to take a chance in a new relationship it would be now.

“We’re playing this new song at Nana’s tonight,” Harry’s voice softly spoke above the flow of the wind, “I’m a bit nervous about it, we’ve only ever practiced it together...” he took a breath in. “It’s a great song, of course, because I wrote it,” he grinned, “but do you mind if I play it and you can tell me what you think?”

You smiled, looking up at him as you laid back on his bed, he was biting his lip anxiously. “Of course. I’m sure it’ll be great, I’m happy to help you still.”

He was sat beside you, one leg over the edge and holding his old guitar he used when writing songs. “Well, I’ve been working on it for a while,” he began to strum lightly with a quiet laughter, “just think of how much work and dedication I’ve put into this before being too harsh.”

“Oh, of course,” you laughed and placed a finger on your temple, “I’ll keep note of that as I’m judging.”

“Good,” he continued to play, nodding lightly. “But really, if you think it’s just complete garbage, keep that to yourself? My ego can’t take the damage of you not liking it.”

You propped your feet up on the headboard and raised a brow at him, “Are you ever going to start singing?”

“I am,” he chuckled.

Harry and Tom had tested out all of their songs with you and the others before playing to anyone else, using that to work out any changes they might want to make. Thea usually had more input, considering she had helped them write many of the songs they played. You and Andrew were still always happy to listen, and had some helpful feedback from just a listener's perspective.

You looked out the window, settling in as he cleared his throat to prepare. It was unclear as to why he was suddenly so anxious about playing a song for you, but you had decided to just patiently wait to listen.

“Be kind with your feedback,” He looked over.

Hitting his leg you scoffed, “For Christ's sake, Harry, sing.”

“Alright, alright,” he caved, still with a boyish smile.

Resting your hands on your stomach, you waited for him to finally start. He was turned back, looking down at the guitar and strumming with more intent now. Whatever the song, you figured it would be good considering his nerves. It must’ve been something important to him, since he had worked on it for so long and was so hesitant to actually share it. You wouldn’t push.

He took in a last calming breath before beginning. “Walk in your rainbow paradise,” his voice was quiet, “strawberry lipstick state of mind.”

It sounded smooth, tranquil. Mixed with the breeze and the soft echoing of conversations downstairs, the song and his singing felt so natural, as much as the sun felt natural when kissing your skin.

“I get so lost inside your eyes,” he smiled back at you. “Would you believe it?”

Feeling yourself tense up a bit, you suddenly found yourself putting more care into listening well to the lyrics. It must’ve meant something to him, with his nerves and all, so you wanted to give it more attention.

“You don’t have to say you love me, you don’t have to say nothin’, you don’t have to say you’re mine.”

His shoulders were more relaxed now, though there still seemed to be some tension. Every few seconds you noticed him glancing over at you, awaiting your reactions to each lyric. You were unsure of your own reactions, not wanting to give much of one in the case that your assumptions might be false.

But what else was there to assume about it all? Every piece of the song gave the impression that it was carefully crafted to be about one person in particular, and you nearly didn’t dare to imagine it could’ve been about you.

You recalled a conversation with Thea from just days ago, about a fear you had when it came to Harry. He and Thea were so much louder, and much more open than you had ever considered yourself to be. And so you had known about your feelings towards Harry for a good while at this point, but those had yet to be shared with him.

It was this fear of what saying it out loud might mean, how it could make things change. It was summer now, though, and those fears were meant to fizzle out with the cold winter weather and the rainy spring days. Summer was your opportunity to take the chance in saying it now.

“Oh, honey, I’d walk through fire for you. Just let me adore you, like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do.”

Maybe you wouldn’t admit your feelings at this exact moment, but soon. With more effect than summer was having, the words he sang seemed to give you a boost of confidence. What was the worst that could happen in assuming that it was about you?

Though less dramatic to the nod to your struggle with telling him how you felt, even the lyric about lipstick had been fitting for you. And, sure, it still could be considered a generic thing, but you were choosing to be optimistic now.

“You don’t have to say you love me, I just wanna tell you somethin’. Lately you’ve been on my mind.”

Feeling a burning in your cheeks now, you sat up to readjust yourself as casually as you could. Your backs facing one another, and shoulders side by side, Harry continued on. You could’ve sworn there was a pink tint on his cheeks too, causing a faint smile to form on your lips.

How in character of him to be saying these things through a song. It was probably feeding into his need to be theatrical, though he was still mindful of your own need to be more secluded as he sang with just the two of you there.

His anxiousness about playing it for you was making more sense now, because regardless of who it was about it was deeply personal. But his nerves were rarely so affected, it only proves acceptable to assume that he was in such worry because he was sharing something that was meant for you, with you.  

Coming to an end, Harry cleared his throat and sat his guitar down beside him. “So, uh,” he brushed his nose, “what’d you think?”

With a puckish smile you replied, “It was… colourless.”

“What?” He turned himself, crossing his legs and leaning closer nervily. “What-what do you mean colourless?”

“Well,” you pursed your lips, “I guess I just… it’s a bit…”

“A bit what?” He pressed, “C’mon, I’ve been terrified of playing this for you.”

You smiled, looking at your hands and twisting your rings around, “I would say that it was a bit on the nose.”

You could see him visibly relaxing, a small smile on his lips and his usual confidence returning.

“I wanted to be straight to the point with this song, y’know?” He sat taller, “Figured that I should say it as it is, get my message across… but that doesn’t make it colourless,” he emphasized with an amusing grin. “That was just rude.”

“You asked for my opinion,” you shrugged, holding back a laugh.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that, though!” He laughed.

The sun peeked in through the window above the bed, warming your skin in some sort of a comforting way. Any tension or nerves had been eased, and the both of you were simply melting into that moment now.

Silence was something that tasted so sweet when it was shared with Harry, yet it was so sour when alone. It wasn’t a panic or worry of what might happen next, but instead it was more like a reassurance that whatever might happen, it would be golden.

“I’ll try to be compassionate next time.” You let out a dramatic puff of air, “Though it’ll be rather difficult for me, I’m sure.”

Harry reached over, a doting look in his eyes, and caringly tucked a bit of your hair behind your ear. “I would appreciate any effort you could put in, my heart can’t seem to handle the brutal honesty.”

Knees rested against one another’s, Harry let his hand settle on your leg just below where your own hand had been lying. Maybe it was much more like fiction or fantasy than you had ever really wished for, though Thea would adore hearing about that part of it later, but it came so easily.

Fingers grazing delicately, Harry was leaning closer in. Taking the chance now, right at the end of summer, was a somewhat terrifying option. Yes, it was still your opportunity for a new beginning, but time was running out. If things wouldn’t work out, where would that put you in the fall?

It didn’t really matter to you anymore, that what if possibility. You were far too distracted by what was in front of you right now to be worrying so much about the future. Whatever may happen before the seasons changed, you would deal with it when it came.

Tracing his fingers up along your arm, Harry’s eyes flickered between your eyes and lips. Letting his hand rest now on your cheek, you could feel your face warming back into a blush. You both closed your eyes as you were nearing into a kiss, only inches away.

Your summer courage was coming back through, pushing you to close the space between.

“Guys, I’ve got some shit news!” Andrew’s voice rang from the stairs before he rudely shoved the door open.

You pulled back from Harry quickly, that feeling of security seeming to fade. Harry bit his lip, a small frown on his face from Andrew barging in. Andrew hadn’t known, but he very well could’ve squashed that new opportunity had you and Harry not been so determined already.

“Is no one going to ask what my news is?” Andrew sat dramatically at the end of the bed.

Harry chuckled, “What’s your news?”

“Oh, thank you so much for asking, Harry. Glad to hear you’re interested.” He cleared his throat, straightening his posture and holding a theatrical tone. “Thea’s invited Dickolas to the show tonight.”

Sharing a glance with Harry, you were both a bit annoyed that that was all that was interrupting the two of you. Which, that was bad enough news so you could somewhat understand his urgency. Still, it came as an inconvenience to how things were finally developing with Harry.

Regardless, Andrew was likely there to stay now and he had pretty well ruined the moment you had before, so you’d hopefully pick it up later.

“She invited him?” You turned yourself around, letting your legs dangle from the edge of his bed. “Why the fuck would she invite Nick?”

“Something about… needing a bigger crowd, which is true, but…” Andrew scrunched his nose, “Dickolas? He will just ruin everything.”

“I s’pose he will,” Harry mumbled, he seemed more sulky than you had been. “You’re here a bit early?”

“By like… five minutes,” Andrew chuckled, “what’s crawled up your ass? Did I interrupt something?” He wiggled his brows, “Were you two finally making a move on each other?”

You wondered if Andrew ever got tired of being invasive, though you hadn’t really minded him all that much. He seemed to be the only one in the group that could always call the rest of you out, which was a bit of an annoyance.

His childish comment had actually left you a bit embarrassed, considering how new that occurrence still was. It was typically so easy to get under your skin, but something about Harry made you cave any time that sort of teasing had to do with him.

“Piss off,” you hit Andrew’s shoulder. “We should be leaving to help Nana at the cafe anyway.”

Harry watched sorrowfully as you stood from the bed, “Oh, you guys should go ahead, I still have to get ready.”

It was as if he was remembering something last minute, some reason that he needed to stay.

“You sure?” You picked up your purse, “We could stay with you.”

“Andrew can keep me company,” he smiled widely, clapping a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “We won’t be far behind.”

“Thank you for volunteering me,” Andrew jested.

It was a bit odd. Harry could take a great deal of time getting ready on occasion, but you didn’t really see the need for tonight. Really, you already thought he would’ve been ready to leave just as he was. It wasn’t something to make a fuss about, though, and you figured you might easily over think it if you sat on the idea for too long, wondering if it might have something to do with the song and kiss.

Ignoring Andrew, Harry stood to follow after you as you left. “Hey, I’m…” his voice was low, “sorry about him interrupting. We should talk more after the show?”

“That’d be great,” you smiled and lazily looked through your purse. “I can give you more feedback about that colourless song of yours.” You joked, testing to see how things left off.

He smiled, leaning against his door frame. “Maybe some kinder feedback this time?”

“Possibly,” you gave a devilish smile. “There were definitely parts of it that stuck, though. It’s an absolutely terrific song…” Pulling a tube of strawberry lipstick from your purse, you placed it carefully in Harry’s hand, “for being so straightforward.”

Glancing down to his hand, he closed his fingers carefully around the tube. “Straightforward seems to be getting me somewhere, so I will take that as a compliment.”

This was the perfect season to convince yourself to go through with any action you might have feared otherwise. Harry had taken advantage of that with his song, and now you were stepping forward too even if it was just with lipstick. But that had seemed to be enough for him.

“Will you be cheering me on?” He had a melodramatic pout, “With such a small crowd watching us play I can use an extra amount of your support, less people to cheer me on and such.”

“Didn’t you hear?” You smiled teasingly, “Dickolas might be showing, he could bring in an entire herd of people, you know. You won’t need my support anymore when you’ve got an entire crowd watching.”

“I’d rather drop the band entirely than have support from Dickolas,” he scrunched his nose. “What would that say about Pandora’s Signs if we attracted people like him?”

Pandora’s Signs. Such a corny name Harry and Tom had chosen for their band.

Andrew peaked over Harry’s shoulder, “Are you two wrapping this up so Harry can actually be ready on time? Would be nice if he wasn’t late to his own show for once.”

Harry rolled his eyes, pushing Andrew back without even turning to face him. “We’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.” He pressed another smile towards you, “Not that Andrew is right or anything, but I probably should start getting ready.”

You could hear Andrew mumbling to himself as he went back to entertaining himself, already annoyed by Harry. Why he had put up with Harry, or the rest of you for that matter you would never understand. Andrew had just been a very patient person, you thought.

“Andrew is absolutely right, you’re almost always late.” And he had been, even if just by a few minutes. “I probably should be leaving now.”

Though knowing he should let you go, he wanted to grasp onto every second he could get.

“So that whole… moment has really ended, then?” He reached for the door knob, slowly pulling it further shut for a bit more of privacy from Andrew.

“I suppose it ended when you decided not to lock the door beforehand,” you joked, gently placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’ll see you at the cafe.”

It wasn’t exactly the type of kiss either of you were hoping for, but you could settle. Harry had a cheeky smile, gently squeezing the lipstick you had given him as you left. You had been waiting to see how things would play out between the two of you, and reality seemed to be turning out better than you had ever imagined.

You were thanking the burst of summer confidence, an excitement filling your stomach as you made your way downstairs. Thea would be the first person you’d tell, you thought she probably couldn’t wait to hear it all. You had been gushing to her for weeks about Harry, and Thea had always so carefully listened. She had likely been a huge factor to where your confidence with him was coming from too, always the first to support your feelings of him.

And you had tried your best to do the same for her, even as you struggled a bit more to show your enthusiasm. It made you question how things had been going between her and Tom, especially since you had started helping him to catch more of Thea’s attention. You had known about her feelings for him for some time, and his feelings for her were becoming increasingly more obvious.

As hopeful as you were about the two of them, it seemed to be taking them much longer to get together than it had been taking you and Harry, even if the events surrounding the song were new. Tom had struggled to just be more upfront about his feelings, nervous of what she might say. And, for once, Thea was equally as anxious.

But maybe they had gotten further while you were up with Harry, summer could’ve been helping them just as much.

“Because it’s Dickolas Thea, he…” Tom’s voice came from the kitchen, sounding annoyed and a bit disappointed. “He is a dick.”

“And you aren’t?” Thea spat back quickly.

Or maybe summer wouldn’t be helping those two at all. What reason would they have for fighting? And why would they choose Nick, of anyone, to fight about?

“I mean, they both are dicks.” You turned into the room, agreeing with Thea promptly. “Why would we want to put up with two dicks?”

Thea froze up, turning her gaze towards you now. She seemed fairly taken back by seeing you, maybe just not expecting you to so suddenly walk in as they fought. But there was this look in her eyes, one that nearly seemed hurt just when seeing you.

“Oh, haven’t thought about that,” she pondered before saying coldly, “then Tom doesn’t have to come.” A simple solution, then there wouldn’t be two dicks attending the show.

“It's literally my band?” Tom glared at her. They had seemed so hostile with one another.

“Maybe so but Thea makes a point,” you shrugged. Looking over to Thea with a smile you said,  “Seems like an even trade with them.”

You made your way to stand beside her, crossing your arms with a placid grin. Whatever was going on between them, you figured you would have agreed with your best friend over Tom. Though you were close friends with him too, he could be a bit dim. Besides, you still figured that it was only a childish fight between them, not that any of it was being taken seriously.

“See?” Thea smirked, tilting her head mockingly. “Besides, I really do think that more people seeing you guys would be better, I don’t think a bunch of old farts is a great audience for your wanna be farty band.” She was right, honestly. They could use a better audience. “Anyway, I need to… go talk to Harry.”

Thea was making her way out, leaving you in more confusion and Tom was left in anger, it appeared. Though you thought, too, that he seemed a bit hurt by what she had said, specifically about the band. The fight didn’t seem to be as petty as you initially thought anymore. The realization that it might be serious between them made a bit of your joy leave, and you now were anxiously observing them trying to figure out what was going on.

“About what, exactly?” Tom asked, nearly walking to follow before stopping himself.

“The power of friendship.” Thea replied callously without stopping.

“Are you two…” you glanced between them, “okay?”

“No, thanks for asking,” Thea said easily. “See you there, my great friend,” she smiled at you before turning back to a frown, “and Tom.”

Watching as she left, you were utterly lost. Things were not at all similar to how you had hoped they were between them, and it was much different than the vibes between you and Harry just minutes before. What had you just watched? And what had happened beforehand to lead to it? Surely it had to do with much more than just Nicholas.

“What the fuck did you say to her?” You glared towards Tom, feeling stronger about defending Thea than him. Thea was never so petty without reason. You followed after her, “Wait, Thea, what’s going on?”

“What?” She was making her way upstairs. “Nothing, he’s just being an idiot…” it was odd for her to deflect. “Wait what’s… What happened with Harry? Why are you blushing? Did you kiss?”

“Wait, what? I’m…” you brushed your fingers across your cheeks, feeling a smile reappearing as you thought of what had happened. You were still excited to let her know, but that wasn’t what was more important at the moment. “No, we didn’t kiss, but…”

“But?” Thea was grinning widely, just as excited as you had been.

It had nearly been enough to distract you from whatever it was she was so harshly avoiding. What happened with Harry felt so unbelievable, the perfect sort of storybook thing that Thea had always gushed about. And even if it had so abruptly ended, you were excited to imagine where it might go from there, and you knew that Thea would have a few ideas to imagine out with you.

You shook your head lightly, more concerned about her and Tom. “You’re just avoiding whatever happened with Tom.”

“Nothing happened,” Thea insisted. It didn’t seem true, “But you’re the one avoiding whatever happened with Harry, please!” She shifted the focus again. “You guys were there for about… an eternity, what happened? You’re smiling like an idiot.”

She was right, you still were. You really were trying your best to hide it, but the feeling was too lively for you to just block it off.

“I am not avoiding it, I’m actually happy to share but I’m just concerned for you…” Which was true, but her distractions were slowly working. “Was I really blushing, though?”

“Well, what happened?” She nudged your arm.

Would it be bad of you to just let it go? You didn’t want to push her, but she seemed really upset about something. Letting it go for the moment seemed to be best, you could ask her about it again later, and maybe then she would be more prepared to talk.

“I’m expecting to hear about Tom later, but…” you caved, letting yourself smile excitedly again, “Harry wrote this new song, and he was playing it for me… he seemed pretty nervous to share, and I guess it… I mean, it seemed to… be about me?”

It had sounded so over-the-top as you said it out loud, but even just the memory of it was stirring up the butterflies in your stomach. You were still processing it, honestly, and it was just too enthralling.

Thea must’ve agreed on that, because all she could seem to do was let out an entirely thrilled scream. You laughed a bit at her reaction, almost wanting to shy away from the attention but being far too ecstatic to do so.

“And?” She asked you, a shine in her eyes now. “What did you do?”

“I… I mean, we were close to kissing before Andrew had interrupted…” you admitted, “and then on my way out I gave him my lipstick, like he had mentioned in the song.” You glanced at her, waiting for her reaction.

“Shut up,” Thea smiled, “you should’ve bloody kissed him in the moment you twit!”

“I know, and we had been so close!” Regrettably close, because it hadn’t happened.

“And how do you feel about this?” She asked, stepping closer to you as she went on. “Are you finally admitting it? That you fancy his stupid ass?”

Now that you might never admit, because what a shame it might be. You had admitted it, to yourself and very indirectly to Thea only once before. You didn’t really need to say it for her to know, it had been very plain to see, but she still had to tease.

You had been telling her all about him for weeks, though most of it she knew herself from being his friend too. But there were things you had learned about him no one else knew yet, though some of the things were small. Harry was interesting to you, and it was easy to learn more about him because he had always wanted all eyes on him.

“Well I never said that, did I?” You joked. “And I could’ve chosen much worse, like Tom or something.”

That struck a nerve in her, her eyes going a bit cold again. “Fuck him.”

You raised your brows, shocked by her response since she had rarely used such words. “So you’re cussing now, what happened?”

As excited as you were to be sharing everything that happened with Harry, wanting to go on and on about it, really, you couldn’t help but be brought back to noticing whatever was happening with her. If something happened, you would’ve rather talked about that than go on about your own more positive experience.

Thea never wanted to take away from your happiness, or anyone’s for that matter. “What happened is that you almost kissed Harry and you’re being stupid and avoiding it.” Which neither of you believed. “So, what’s up with that?”

“Hmm, sure, that’s all.” You weren’t convinced, how could you be? If you kept pushing, though, you worried what her reaction might be. “But I don’t mean to avoid it, for once, it’s just that Andrew came in. After the show, though, maybe I can get my lipstick back from him, you know?”

“I’m pretty sure he wanted the lipstick,” she began, a smirk on her lips, “so then, how about when he gives it back, you use it so he can actually taste it.”

Thea had her lips puckered, leaning towards you as she made kissing noises. You were trying your best not to laugh, wanting to avoid her comment entirely.

“Anyway, I’ll tell you how that goes!” You cleared your throat, “You’re sure you don’t want to ride with Tom and I?”  

“I’d rather jump off a cliff,” she rolled her eyes, quick to change moods again. “No… I’m joking, I…” Thea pressed her eyes shut, “I just need to talk to Harry about one of the songs… But I’ll see you guys there.”

“Uhm,” your lips pressed together, “yeah, alright.”

Thea looked over your face, noticing your response and worrying that she sounded too cold.

“Yeah, and if you get the chance, please break his neck.” She smiled lightly again, trying to brighten your mood.

It was false, a faulty wall she was putting up so you’d let it go. You could understand not wanting to talk about whatever it was, but it was a little odd that she was acting so withdrawn. And you had recognized her need to please people, so the fact that she kept changing it back to you and Harry wasn’t much of a surprise, though it still hurt in a way. Like she hadn’t trusted you enough to tell you what it was.

You figured it was a worry more in your mind, and you wouldn’t overreact just yet. “I’d take any excuse to do that,” you smiled back, “but I do expect an explanation once I’ve done it.” A subtle way of trying to make it an easier topic maybe.

“It’s nothing, y/n.” She said quickly. “See you in a bit.”

With another faux smile, Thea turned back and made her way up the stairs. Maybe you had pushed her too much. You had noticed that she didn’t want to talk about it, and you were angry with yourself for not just letting it go. But, you recognized too that you were only trying to help her. You were concerned about not just her, but Tom too really.

It didn’t make sense that they were fighting then, and that it had been bad enough for Thea to just walk away. That hadn’t been the worst of it, you would’ve known if it was. Whatever the worst part was had something to do with so much more than just you, or even Dickolas.

You still wanted to help them, and although Thea hadn’t been so open to accepting your help, maybe Tom could use it. You did still side more with Thea on it, having no background on the situation, but it couldn’t hurt to ask him for his side of the story.

Trying to shake off your last exchange with Thea, you went back to the kitchen to talk with Tom.

“Were you really that bothered by her inviting Nick?” You chuckled, “I mean, I don’t blame you for being pissed about it, seeing as how crusty he is, but it did seem that you were being a bit dramatic.”

Tom was running a hand down his face, leaning against the counter and sitting in his own bit of pity.

“Nicholas is… he’s an urchin and I don’t want him at my show,” he complained. “She just… decided to invite him out of the blue, like it was nothing.

“The show is open to the public,” you pointed out. “And Thea can invite whoever she wants, even Dickolas.”

“Yes, but why did she choose him?” He asked tiredly. “It was like she did it just to be against me, you know?”

“Don’t be so self centered.”

“You weren’t there when she invited him,” he retorted. He was quick to be so defensive, just as Thea had been. “She… she doesn’t even like him, but you know who does? Her bloody father.”

Your brows knitted together, “What does that have to do with it?”

It was true, that Thea hadn’t even liked Nick yet her father had. But her father hadn’t liked Tom or Harry, which didn’t seem to make much sense to you knowing what you had about Nicholas.

“She probably just invited him to please her father,” Tom explained, pushing off the edge of the counter, “And if he shows, at least she’ll be spending time with someone her father actually approves of, and if not she still tried.”

Thea was known to be a people pleaser, you couldn’t deny that. And she had often done things just for her father’s approval, so he was right in that sense too. But it wasn’t of malicious intent, or at least not often.

You had probably known more on the topic than Tom, considering how much longer you knew Thea and just the types of relationships you each had with her, so you knew that deep down her reasoning wasn’t just to get back at Tom. You hadn’t witnessed their fight, or her inviting Nick, but you knew Thea.

“Which do you think it is then?” You asked him, pressing your lips together. “Is it that she did it to go against you, or she did it because her father likes Nick?”

He looked at you, somewhat dumbfounded by your question. “Both,” he replied. “He has always preferred Dickolas over me, and she was just taking the opportunity to… to hit two birds with one stone. Inviting him would make her father happy, and she was being petty and trying to get back at me for before.”

“Before?” You asked, growing more and more curious. “What happened before?”

Tom’s gaze snapped to meet yours, as if he was suddenly remembering that you were actually there talking with him and he wasn’t just ranting about to himself. He had said too much, or at least much more than he was hoping to say at this point.

“No, nothing, it’s…” his mind was scrambled. “Maybe, well, maybe I’ll tell you about it later? We should just enjoy tonight, shouldn’t we? We’ve got a show to get to.”

A sudden change in his tone, Tom was guiding you outside with him to his car. You had actually been getting answers about whatever happened, and now he was just avoiding it as plainly as Thea. Prying did no good, so you thought it would just be better to drop it now before he too might get more defensive on the matter.

The fight that happened between them was something that they wanted you to think was nothing. They wanted you to believe it was petty, and that it could be let go of quickly. But if that were the truth of it, Thea would’ve just told you what had happened, and Tom would’ve too even if just to complain. You knew them, and you knew that it was more than they cared to admit.

You also knew that trying to force either of them to talk about it would only make the situation worse. They would become defensive, and they would possibly shut you out entirely. But, if they were ready to talk about it then they would. What worried you, though, was imagining when they might finally be ready, if ever.

Riding to the cafe with Tom, the sun seemed ever so slightly dimmer than it had been before. The breeze was still blowing the same, but the warmth in the air seemed to be fading.

“I’m sorry about all of that back there, with Thea and all.” Tom said meekly. “It was a stupid fight, and I guess I’m just sorry you caught the end of it.”

Maybe you’d get to figure out more about it sooner than you thought.

“It seemed like your usual joking banter, just…” you thought, “a different tone.”

He scoffed lightly to himself, “We had been arguing before, and then she invited Nick which just seemed to make things worse.”

“So I’ve figured out,” you chuckled. “But what in the world had the two of you so torn up?”

Tom sighed, pausing to think before saying anything more. He still seemed to have an endless rush of thoughts going through, and you could almost see him trying to figure out which to focus on first. It was like he was trying to be careful with what he said, possibly avoiding any more conflict like before.

“We were just talking about…” he took a long breath in, he seemed nervous.

It was a type of anxiousness you had seen before, though having not yet connected it. He was talking so softly, and there was a light touch of pink across his cheeks. Why had he cared so much about whatever Thea’s father thought, and even about her inviting Nick?

You had known about his crush on her, and maybe that had something to do with it. His nervousness would explain that, and so would his total confusion as to the thing with Nick too.

“Wait,” you were grinning ear to ear. “Did you… did you finally tell her about your crush on her?” If he had, why was she so upset? “How did you manage to fuck that up?”

“I didn’t,” he said quickly. “I didn’t tell her that.”

You frowned, “Oh?”

“No, I…” he licked his lips, “I told her that I liked you.”

What?

Tom was glancing at you, trying to take in your reaction, but you didn’t have much of one. You couldn’t really process what he said, because it was completely out of pocket.

“What… What do you mean?” You turned to him.

“I told her that I like you,” he repeated, as if that would help. “I said I liked you, and that I thought we were a good match. And, I mean, we’ve been getting closer so I thought that maybe…”

“You’re joking,” you shook your head.

“No,” he had a nervous laugh, “I’m not.”

What was he trying to get out of this? Was it some stupid joke? Was it just to mess with you after the song and all with Harry? You wondered if maybe it was some stupid test he was putting you up to before things with Harry went any further, since he was his best friend. Even Tom wasn’t that low of a person, though.

“You’ve got to be joking,” you didn’t know what else to say.

“Would it be so bad if I did like you?” Tom asked, and you swore he already knew the answer.

“You don’t like me.” You shook your head again.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do,” you scoffed, “because I know that you like her.” Meaning Thea.

“Maybe I don’t anymore.”

“Tom, be serious.”

“I am being serious,” he glanced over at you, growing annoyed. Of course he had the nerve. “I don’t think I like her anymore.”

“You don’t think?” What was he even saying? “And that’s enough for you? You aren’t even sure if you don’t like her anymore but you’re so sure that you like me?”

“Yes,” he replied, “and it doesn’t matter about her because I know that I like you.”

“Fine, I’ll amuse this.” You turned in your seat to face him, “If you do like me, why? What has made you change from wanting to be with Thea to thinking you want to be with me?”

That was the real issue here. It made no sense, it was coming from absolutely nowhere. There was nothing pointing to the thought that he might like you, and you weren’t sure what you did that would’ve signaled to him that you might like him too.

“Well, for one,” he began carefully, “we’ve been spending more time together--”

“So I could help you get with her.” You clarified. Was his reasoning really that simplistic?

“But being around you just made me realize that it’s you I like.”

No you fucking don’t, Tom.” Running a hand through your hair, you weren’t sure how to react at the moment. “Stop being so stupid.”

“I’m not being stupid,” he shook his head. “Why is it so hard to think I could like you?”

“Because I have literally been helping you to get with my best friend!” You scoffed, “What is about me that is making you be so fucking dumb?”

“I’m not being…” he bit his lip. “Why won’t you just listen to what I’m saying?”

“Because it’s a lie, and you’re not making any sense.” You said simply.

“It is not a lie, why would you think that? Is it…” he glanced over, “is it you think you aren’t good enough?” Was that a serious question? “Or--or is it that you’re afraid to admit anything because of what it might mean?”

There was nothing you had feared to admit to him, because you were comfortable with where your friendship with him stood, or you were before this conversation. Things were easy with him because he was the one from the group that was just like you. You knew that he understood why you were so careful when it came to sharing the truths held deep in your heart, because he had always had the same explanations for himself.

But regardless of his usual understanding, he didn’t seem to understand at all right now. The things he was saying seemed so random, having no evidence to back even a single word out of his mouth. And had he really mistaken your friendship for more? Wasn’t it clear of your intentions with Harry?

“Admit what, Tom?” You had had enough at this point. “Admit that you’re being a selfish prick?”

“No, admit that you actually do have some sort of feelings.” Tom probably thought he was being a genius. “But that’s what would be great with me,” he was backing himself up again, “I don’t want you to be pressured into that sort of thing. I understand how hard it is to be so open with someone, you wouldn’t have to force yourself into change with me.”

“What the hell does that mean?” What was he looking for here?

“We know each other so well, and that’s part of what made me realize how I feel about you.” He moved closer to the edge of his seat, gripping the steering wheel tighter, “Think about it, right? That’s why I was even coming to you about Thea, was because you could understand my feelings already. We don’t have to change how we express them for Thea or Harry, because we already understand each other.”

You knew that he could be an idiot, but was he truly so arrogant?

You didn’t mean to completely dismiss however he was feeling, because for all you knew he really could’ve developed feelings for you, but you really didn’t believe that it was true. If anything, you thought it was just some misinterpretation that he had done with his own emotions.

“What you’re saying is that because we both have the unhealthy coping mechanism of just shutting down we’re suddenly meant to be?” You mockingly nodded, “What a bloody genius you are, Thomas.”

“That’s…” he sighed, feeling more defeated, “no, but… We get each other.”

“And they’re doing their best to get us too.” You fought back, “That’s sort of the entire point of having any relationship with someone, is getting to know who they are. And that’s what I like so much about being with Harry, we’re still learning about each other.”

“Well, yes, but we’re already comfortable with one another in that way.” Why was he still insisting? “Don’t you see how simple it could be for us? We wouldn’t have to make all these huge changes to be with one another. We would already be comfortable in knowing who the other is.”

“I don’t want to be like this for my entire life,” you pleaded, “and I know you don’t either. It’s exhausting, and it’s crappy.” This was something you didn’t think you needed to explain to him. “And Thea always helps me with that, and now Harry is too. It’s not like it’s a bad thing that we’re growing as people because we’re around them.”

“Growth isn’t what I’m trying to talk about, I’m just saying that… you don’t have to force yourself into any change, you know that?” Tom really looked to be concerned.

“If you don’t want to be with Thea anymore can you just say that?” You sighed, “You’d be a fucking idiot for saying it, but it would make things less complicated.”

He scoffed, “Even if I did still like her it wouldn’t matter, she clearly doesn’t like me.”

It finally was feeling like you were getting somewhere with him.

“Why are you saying that?” Had something happened that you didn’t know about? Was that what was upsetting Thea earlier? “Is this what this whole thing is about? Did something happen with her?”

The entire feel of the atmosphere had changed, the sun now hidden behind the clouds. It was as if you were finally asking the questions he was hoping to avoid.

Tom was hesitant to reply, now avoiding looking your way completely. He looked like he hadn’t known what to say but almost as if he was thinking of the perfect response. You knew he might try to lie, or to just take the opportunity to end the conversation then.

Shockingly, he ended up cracking. “I told her that I liked you just before we left, when we were having tea downstairs...” he admitted, “and she hadn’t seemed to care, but you’d think if she did that she would’ve been…” he shook his head, “I don’t know.”

You hadn’t been there for that, obviously, but you already were guessing Thea’s reaction to him telling her that. Why would he even say something so stupid to her? Was he testing to see her reaction? Was it just some dumb teenage boy’s idea to see if she might fight for him? He was disappointingly thick.

“That’s what this all is about?” You questioned. “You stupidly lied about having feelings for me and she was taken back, and you took that immediate chance to just assume the worst?”

“Why do you think it’s a lie?” His voice was low again, giving up on defending himself.

“Because it doesn't make sense, Thomas!” You snapped. “I thought things were going so well, with me and Harry and the song, the-the lipstick, even--”

“What?”

“And I have been helping you, so you could get closer to Thea because that’s who you like, not me, and that was going so beautifully too.” You rubbed your temples, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. “Why are you now saying differently?”

How had you even ended up here? Fighting with Tom about something so petty.

He was being a fool, which he often was anyway. And this wasn’t just you trying to convince yourself that he didn’t like you, though that was definitely occurring as well, but it was that you genuinely didn’t believe it. And maybe you should’ve heard him out more, but the consequences of him saying that wouldn’t affect only him. It was already affecting Thea, and your relationship with the both of them. It begged the question of what else, and who else, this would affect.

“I just thought that if she cared she would have shown it.” He sounded totally defeated, actually taking it all in now. “Because if she did have any sort of feelings, she really fooled me… when I told her that all she could do was go on and on about Harry, and how opposites attract or whatever the fuck, so it was like the final nail in the coffin to me.”

He took a pause, pressing his lips together and sitting back a bit further. Even if he was an idiot, he did seem upset about her reaction. You knew his feelings for Thea were true, and maybe he really hadn’t realized that she liked him too. Thea hadn’t told a soul about her crush on him, she hadn’t even said it to you and you were best friends, but it was easy for you to see how she felt. Tom was hurt, and it seemed confused too.

“So you just spewed out that you liked me?” You asked quietly.

“No, no, I-” he sighed. “I really thought- or think?” He didn’t seem sure. “That I liked you. I guess I was just being stupid, though, right? I was just misreading all the signs, and I assumed far too much.”

You thought for a minute, trying to piece everything together. “Maybe I was just your fallback, since you thought that Thea wasn’t interested.”

Tom thought about it, though he didn’t seem happy about the idea. Who could blame him? It wasn’t exactly a good situation for anyone involved at this point.

“It’s just,” you began again, “what if you only liked me because I was there, I was familiar and I was someone you were comfortable with… and when you thought that Thea might not like you, you needed that familiarity?” You were trying to figure it out for yourself as much as you were for him.

He parked the car, silently taking the keys out as he considered your theory.

“That makes sense, doesn’t it?” You adjusted in your seat again. “That it was just a misunderstanding, because it seemed like a simple solution?”

Tom wasn’t giving you much of a reaction, and you had hoped that meant he was just realizing it too. That had actually made sense, it was a clear explanation to why he was saying everything that he had. It wasn’t out of spite, thought parts were, but it was just a mixup and confusion of his emotions.

“Yeah,” Tom finally said quietly, “that makes sense, I guess.”

He didn’t seem fully convinced, but you’d take what you could get because this was the simple solution to your own problems. It made things less complicated, and maybe it would allow you to clear things up with Thea. You wouldn’t have to worry about what those consequences might entail if what you thought of was true.

“Okay, yeah… great, right?” You nodded to yourself, frantically putting your purse over your shoulder and getting out of the car. “That’ll explain it all, and then things between us don’t have to be weird. And you can tell Thea, right, that it was all just a misunderstanding? You can explain, and you can tell her the truth of it now?”

He was much more quiet now, “Right, of course.”

And that was all you needed, for him to agree with you that it was all just a mistake, a misunderstanding. Because that’s what it had to have been, otherwise it was messing with everyone’s relationships and that wasn’t something that you wanted to deal with losing.

Now it was back to the focus of summer, back to focusing on the warmth of the sun and the calming twist of the breeze. You had your answer, and Tom had realized your truth. You convinced yourself that wasn’t an anxiety you would have to deal with for any longer.

“We should be going in now, to help get things ready.” Before he could say anything else, you went in to quickly distract yourself with any little task.

Knowing your way around the cafe well enough, you helped to set up the tables and such after having a brief conversation with Thea’s grandmother about the night. It was mindless enough work, just to keep you busy until the others arrived too. You wondered how much longer they might be.

Tom was inside now too, sluggishly getting his guitar ready. Had you cut off the conversation too soon? Surely not, how could’ve you? The solution was found, and it was clear as day… and hopefully not as mud.

When the others had finally arrived, you could feel the weight lifting off your chest. You weren’t focused on just Tom anymore, so that anxious aching was fading away. Though, part of you worried about telling the others about what had happened with him. That wasn’t something you could just hide away, was it? Especially not from Harry.

As you silently kept on setting up, Harry came up to talk to you, and that was when all worry seemed truly gone. The memory of earlier was still so warming to your heart, it clouded all other fears. Instead, you could feel those butterflies again, and the evening was brightening once more. Because it was warmer with him, you knew just what to expect.

Things weren’t as complicated as what Tom seemed to think they were between you and Harry, in fact things were so easy. You complimented one another very well, at least that’s what the two of you had thought.

“Oh, before we go on,” Harry smiled and took the lipstick out of his pocket. “I really would like to try some of this lipstick after the show.” He gently closed the tube in your hand, “But maybe I could get the taste from your lips?”

He laid a kiss on your knuckles, giving you a quick wink before going up on the stage to perform. Another smile appeared on your lips as you held the lipstick closer to your chest. It was moments like that that you dreamed of in the summer. That alone opened up so many new doors, and it included opportunities that you couldn’t wait to explore. That was the excitement of summer, even if in the simplest of ways.

You took your seat with Thea and Andrew, and the music began not long after. Thea seemed more relaxed now, and less upset about that entire issue with Tom. In fact, you had noticed her giving him a kiss on the cheek just before he went up on stage, and he now had red lipstick left where he had kissed her. You figured that was a good sign, they must’ve shortly talked things through.

Even Andrew, though he was a bit annoyed when his (rather new) stepbrother arrived, hadn’t let the night be spoiled. Everything was going so shockingly well.

As the music was coming to an end, you went behind the counter of the cafe to find some shirts that you had left there earlier that day. You had finally finished your design for a new logo for Tom and Harry, and you got it printed onto some shirts for them. More positive news for that day, helping to cover up your worries some more.

And when the music did end, you all gathered together in your excitement. Complementing their show, going on about how this one was by far the best show they had had, even if you all said that every single time. And the joy continued when you showed your new design for them, it was Pandora delicately holding a hawkshead flower. Things were so bright again.

Nana gathered you all for a picture together, thinking this might be a moment that all of you might want such a keepsake for. And this was just another day closer to the end of summer, yet for once it didn’t seem that this would all fade with the season.

read Thea’s side here

next chapter

series masterlist

wanna be tagged?

masterlist

taglist: @rayofsunshine-28 @millennial-teenybopper @spideyspeaches @sleepingdancer @sippin-on-tea @imsadsothatswhyidab @countingstarsmylove @obiwanownsmyass @annathesillyfriend​ @saintlavrents​

[cno-inbminor]

domus

a/n: here we have another short drabble dump! i wrote this up very quickly -- i’m still working on that long fic i’ve been talking about! i apologize for taking so long to put it together. pls take this short fic as an apology for now. stay hydrated, wear your masks, and be safe! love you all so dearly <3 

plot: when kuroo tetsuro drops the hard-hitting truth that he’s fallen out of love with you, your first thought is to escape. but you find comfort in the least likely person: akaashi keiji, a boy you had grown up with out of forced family interactions, who always seemed so distant from you. yet you probably knew more about him than anyone else. 

characters: fem!reader, ex-bf!kuroo, & family friend!akaashi 

wc: ~3.7k, will probably have other parts in the future.

genre/warnings: angst with dashes of fluff; mentions of alcohol

pt. 2 | pt. 3

edit: now crossposted to AO3!

When you’re in love, you spend weeks and months wondering why time won’t stop. You sit and ponder over why you’ll have to die someday and leave behind the person you’ve dedicated your entire soul to, or what might happen if your death came early and you didn’t get to say goodbye. You wonder why the seasons seem to pass you by so quickly, that in the blink of an eye, you go from enjoying a cup of iced tea on the porch to holding a mug of hot chocolate inside watching snowflakes swirl in their journeys to the ground.

But when love ceases to exist, time seems to stop. The days drag for longer, the seasons crawl at a turtle’s pace, and the inevitable end feels less terrifying. You no longer fear the eventual sagging of your skin or the spider legs that grow at the corners of your eyes. You no longer cling onto a hope that there will be a lover’s hand holding yours at your bed of eternal sleep. You simply become, just you. Solitary, single, independent you.

It’s no longer you and someone else. The realization stings so badly that it physically hurts you, a whimper leaving your throat. You shakily reach over for the next blouse and fight back the tears, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. The skin is chapped and broken to the point that you would need layers and layers of chapstick to save any semblance of it, a terrible habit that you wish you hadn’t possessed. It’s muscle memory, the way you fold the blouse in half, fold the sleeves in, bending it over your arm before it lands in a neat stack of other tops in your suitcase. Your eyes take a glance at the clock, and you gather you have about another hour before you needed to leave for the airport and make it on time for your flight.

You ignore the male figure hunched over on the edge of your bed, tuning out his pleas and broken promises. He begs you to give him time, to implore that it’s all his fault and he’ll make it work for the two of you. Tetsuro promises that he didn’t mean to and that it wasn’t anything you did, but you feel so empty inside that you can’t even find the energy to argue, to turn on him and say that he was pretending to take all the blame so it’d be a better explanation to all your friends. A relationship involves both parties, and while there were special exceptions, this wasn’t one of them. Something was clearly wrong with you, and you were okay with that. You were just tired of Testuro attempting to take everything onto himself.

“I thought it’d be best to come clean with you,” he says, throat hoarse from lack of hydration. “I know you would question it and I haven’t done anything, I swear, I know you’re amazing and don’t deserve to live a lie and—”

“Do you want me to say ‘thank you’?” You interjected quietly, morosely. Your hands slide open the underwear drawer and take out a week’s worth of underwear, bras, and bralettes. “Do you want me to express my gratitude in your honesty for telling me that you don’t love me anymore? You can easily buy a trophy online and make the inscription yourself. ‘Most honest man alive’? Is that what you want?” You ask, tone flat and not possessing the least bit of amusement and humor.

“Can’t you give me some time? I’ll try, I’ll try to figure out what went wrong, and I can love you again. We can still get married and everything, but please don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving forever, Tetsu. I’m just gone for a week, maybe more.”

“Where are you even going?”

“That’s none of your business,” you quickly reply, defenses back up as you make a beeline for the bathroom. You pick up all the toiletries you can, the ones that would be allowed in your carry-on. Strangers won’t care about your missing skincare routine and your complexion not looking its best.

“What if you get lost? Or kidnapped? What if people ask—”

“Easy. Just tell them I had a last minute business trip, family emergency, whatever floats your boat.”

“Can’t you see that I’m trying? I—”

“This isn’t just about you!” You snap, whirling around to look at him for the first time in the last hour or so. Testuro notices with a pang in his heart that your cheeks have sunken in slightly since he broke his revelation to you just last week, the eye circles darker than ever. But your eyes are soulless, dead, no shine or spark that he’d wake up to every morning even muddled with sleep.

“You can’t just expect me to be okay and continue to bend over backwards for you without question. The least you could do is give me my time, give me some space to think about all of it. That’s the bare minimum.”

And with that, you zip your suitcase shut, grab your passport (even though you probably don’t need it), keys, wallet, and phone, and walk as quickly as you can to the front door. The scheduled Uber will arrive in just a few minutes, and as you slip into a pair of flats, you can hear the creak of the bed and Testuro’s padded steps nearing you.

“Just be careful, okay? Call me if you need anything, anything. You’re still one of the most important people to me, so just – text me at some point. Let me know you’re alive at least.”

“You need to rest. You’re on call tomorrow,” you digress while opening the door.

“(Y/n)—”

“I’ll text you. Promise.”

And the door shuts behind you.

-

Your relationship with Akaashi Keiji is…hard to explain. In fact, you’re not even sure what to refer him as in your life. Anytime you spoke of him or attempted to explain, you’d fumble over words and draw blanks. While it was irritating and aggravating at times, you learned to just accept it.

Akaashi Keiji was the neighbor down the street, two years older, and someone who had known you since you were 8. Your moms were attached at the hip not longer after you moved to Tokyo, and that meant holidays were spent together, impromptu get-togethers and dinners were a common occurrence, and you saw him frequently at school. He was a quiet soul, gentle, but reserved. In fact, most of the things you knew about him were secondhand conversations from your mother talking about the family, because honestly his mom was basically your second mom now, and your mother trusted you with everything. His past, his troubles, his personality all relayed through your mom from his own, and when you saw him in the hallways, he wasn’t much of an enigma to you. Many other girls had found the mysterious air around him to be attractive, that the pretty setter who only ever smiled around his volleyball team and kept a tight circle of friends had something significant beneath the layers.

Keiji grew up with you, playing Smash on the Wii to pass time as your parents gossiped away. Sometimes, you’d play an intense game of Monopoly with him, a game that typically tipped in his favor. He never said much about himself, always relayed more about others that overlapped in your lives. The most he ever spoke to you about was when it came to teachers at school, even giving you some of his old notes and pointers. But even you could tell that he kept his guards up, and you wondered if he even classified you as a friend.

Your go-to explanation of Keiji’s standing in your life was a family friend. But that insinuated you were close with him, which you weren’t at all. No matter how many times he walked home with you (mainly at the pushing from his mother), no matter how many times he was forced to entertain you at dinners and holidays, no matter how many times he gave you a small smile in school, there was such a large gap between the two of you. He always seemed so different around his team, like they had the privilege of knowing the real him, and at times, you felt…jealous.

And the weird thing is that you can rely on him somehow – whether it be because he’d get an earful from his parents if he didn’t help you when you asked it or out of the goodness of his heart, he was simply always there. Sometimes, you were bold enough to text him about a show he talked about in the past, and he would reply quickly as if your unexpected, rare text about something benign didn’t faze him at all.  

Yet despite the distance, despite the lack of any semblance of an actual friendship with him, he was the first one you thought of when all this happened. He was the one you wanted to see – maybe it’s because he was the closest thing to home, and you didn’t want to go back to your parents explaining everything. It’s been a while since you’ve been back in Tokyo, ever since you moved to Sapporo for your job and Testuro got matched for a residency at a hospital there.

At 7PM on a Friday afternoon, past the baggage claim with the sunset beaming in through the sliding glass doors, you stare at Keiji’s contact on your phone, thumb hovering hesitantly over the call button. You could count the number of times you’ve called him on one hand, but this was an emergency, right? Is this why your heart is pounding against your chest, so anxious that you feel like you’ll break into a cold sweat any time soon?

You jump into the deep end.

Your hand nervously brings the phone to your ear, waiting with bated breath as the dial tone echoes in the chamber of your brain. Part of you wants him to miss the call so you can avoid this awkward conversation, but another part of you desperately wants him to pick up as if he’ll be able to save you.

Oh god oh god oh god, you panic as the tone stops, there’s a pause, a rustle, and then a hesitant, “—Hello?”

You didn’t plan this out. You’re not ready for this. Shit, what are you supposed to say?

“—hello? (Y/n)?”

“Have you had dinner yet?”

Wow, you’re a terrible conversationalist.

“…um, I haven’t actually. I was about to warm up some leftovers?”

Your eyes focus on the taxis driving by, picking up passengers as they get waved down. Maybe you should just find a cheap hotel nearby, continue this conversation tomorrow.

“Well…I’m in town, actually. I just landed about 30 minutes ago and realized I didn’t have anywhere to go and I don’t really want to call anyone else and I don’t exactly know who else to call so I just, um, thought about calling you and asking if you’ve had dinner? Which if you’re busy and stuff, that’s totally fine, I should’ve texted you beforehand instead of springing this on you and—”

“(Y/n), it’s okay, alright? It’s okay. I’m not busy, so you can stop by. Did my mom ever give you my address?”

Keiji’s brief attempt to calm you down works, surprisingly. You allow yourself to take a deep breath despite the stale airport air, but it was some much-needed oxygen. This is going to be okay, Keiji doesn’t hate you quite yet.

“N-no, she never did.”

“That’s fine, I’ll text it to you. My place is about 30 minutes from the airport, I’d recommend getting a taxi instead of an Uber. I’ll order some delivery—”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“You still like the miso ramen from that shop not far from your house, right? They opened up a second store not far from where I live.”

How did he remember that? You’re pretty sure your own mother had forgotten that fact by now.

“Y-yeah, I do,” you smile to yourself. “I still think about it sometimes.”

“Sounds good then. Get here safely then.”

“Okay. Thank you loads again. I’m sorry for all this—”

“Don’t worry about it. Keep me updated, see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Not 30 seconds later, a text arrives to your phone with an address, a keycode for getting past the main door, and other relevant instructions.

-

Keiji’s apartment is exactly as you expect it to be – prim, proper, neat almost to a fault, with minimalist decorations. The apartment complex he lives in is rather high-end, if the security guards standing outside the main entrance indicated anything. You almost feel completely out of place or like a bug on the wall as you step in after him, a rather comfortable silence between the two of you. His kitchen is spotless and almost sparkles back at you, and the only thing that seems out of place are the containers of your ramen he so kindly ordered for you.

“Your place is really nice, it’s really…you,” you comment, setting your stuff down at the door. Keiji indulges you with a quiet laugh, making sure that there wasn’t anything that would be in your way. His glasses are perched on his head, an old monochrome t-shirt on his shoulders and sweatpants hung low on his hips, yet in this apartment that almost seems like it should be in an interior design magazine, he looks at home. His ethereal beauty, the softness in his eyes, the gentle up-turned strands of his hair – he belonged here.

“The ramen came not too long ago, so it’s still hot. I’ll go ahead and put it together, you can put your jacket on the couch.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Instead, you fold your jacket over your suitcase and quietly make your way into the apartment. Straight across from you are doors to a balcony – darkness had long taken over the city, so you see nothing but your reflection at first. But as you near the plexiglass, the reflection disappears into the view and you almost gasp from the beauty of it.

Blinking lights, flashing billboards, and the brightly lit Tokyo Skytree peer back at you. It only hits you now how much you’ve missed home, and that even though Sapporo was one of the largest cities in Japan, it still wasn’t Tokyo.

“I never get tired of it,” Keiji chimes in while carrying your bowl of ramen to the dining table.

“It’s an amazing view, I can see why you’d live here,” you reply while moving away from it. The table also has two empty wine glasses, and just as you’re about to ask him why they were there, he returns with a newly opened bottle of chardonnay.

“I haven’t had a lot of time to restock the wine fridge, but I knew I was going to kick myself for not having a bottle of that dessert wine we had before you went off to college,” he said with mirth and amusement. “You remember that one?”

“Yeah,” you nearly splutter, almost flushing that once again, Keiji was remembering details about you that you didn’t even know. “Your mom wanted to throw me a graduation dinner and you made it back in time after finals. And she had a bottle of it and between the two of us, we probably drank most of it. Our parents said it was too sweet.”

He nods and sits across from you, elbows on the table as you mutter, “Itadakimasu,” and start eating. You finish your meal silently for the most part, making small talk here and there. Keiji refills both of your glasses and the two of you sip the wine demurely, and while he seems okay with the lack of an explanation, you’re struggling to find the right words.

“So what’s with the impromptu trip to Tokyo? Are you going to see your parents?”

“Should I try to lie to you?”

“It’s up to you.”

Oh, okay then.

But he looks expectant, as if he knows you wouldn’t lie to him – in fact, you’ve never lied to him before. There was never any need to, but did that just mean neither of you ever cared enough?

“Something happened with me and Testuro. I don’t want to bore you with the details, but at the end of the day…I just needed to get away, as cliché as it sounds,” you laugh brokenly. Keiji continues to carefully observe you with a stare that you can’t escape. “I don’t want to tell my parents – you know them, they’ll ask a million questions. Without thinking, I booked a ticket to Tokyo and…now I’m here.”

That was a lie. How are you supposed to tell Keiji that he was the first person you thought of in an effort to run away? You and Keiji have never gotten personal before, he made sure of that. The last thing you want to do is weird him and scare him off.

“…did he cheat on you?” Keiji asked. His voice is darker in his inquiry, deeper than you’ve ever heard before. He has his hands folded in front of his lips and his eyes harden. Testuro may be an old friend to him, but you were in his life longer.

“Nonononono,” you quickly wave off. This isn’t the time to slander your…boyfriend? Could Tetsuro still even be your boyfriend if he no longer has any feelings for you? “Nothing like that.”

“That’s good to hear. If you want, you can tell me another time then. You’re welcome to stay here until you go back to Sapporo.”

You look up at him, eyes incredulous. Could Keiji really be this comfortable with you?

“I wouldn’t mind staying tonight, but I can stay in a hotel for the rest of the week that I’m here.”

“Nonsense,” Keiji refutes, standing from the table and taking your wine glasses to the sink. You follow with your bowl and he starts washing them before you can even offer. “Mom would kill me if she knew I let you pay for a hotel when I have a perfectly functioning bed you can stay in.”

“I mean, if it’s not a bother…”

“It’s not. The futon’s pretty comfortable, I’ve definitely fallen asleep on it plenty of times.”

“We can switch, I would never let you sleep on the futon for a whole week.”

“If you say so then. But for tonight, you can take my bed. Let me grab you an extra towel so you can shower. I’m sure you’ve had a long day,” he says while drying everything off, folding the kitchen towel neatly before heading off to his room. He returns with a large, soft grey towel and you shyly take it from him with a word of thanks, but he stays there in front of you, waiting for something.

“I’m really glad you picked up the phone,” you whisper softly, feeling the effects of the alcohol. You’re entering uncharted territory for the two of you, and this could either kill or strengthen this odd distant friendship. “I meant it when I said I didn’t know who else to call. You were the first person that came to mind and just…I don’t want to make this weird, like you can kick me out,” you begin to ramble. “Don’t feel like you’re obligated to take me in because your mom would be disappointed if you wouldn’t, you’ve already put up with me for over 15 years and it’s fine, I can be on my own and—”

Smooth, calloused hands delicately hold your face, large palms and nimble fingers cupping your cheeks. Your words die on your tongue as Keiji stares straight into your eyes, holding your gaze until your breathing calms down to a steady, languid pace. “You’re my friend, (y/n). So it’s good that you called me.”

“I’m your…friend?” You ask unsteadily, feeling a sense of disbelief.

“Yeah,” he confirms with the corners of his lips turning up slightly. “We’re friends.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Now go shower.”

“Okay.”

-

You’re fast asleep before Keiji finishes his own shower, his bedroom door left ajar as the hallway light beams through. He pauses in the midst of drying his hair with a towel, letting it bunch and hang off his neck as he cautiously pushes the door open. Keiji notices your even breathing and how much more relaxed you look in sleep. You’re curled up on your side with the blanket pulled up to your face and he can’t lie: it’s adorable and cute, and he shouldn’t really be thinking these things.

He sits on the edge of the bed in the little space that’s provided, lithe fingers reaching out to brush back a few stray wisps of your hair. Watching you sleep pulls him back into a fond memory he’s kept of the two of you, one that might’ve held very little significance to you but meant something so much more to him. He knows you know him well, he knows how much his mother babbles on about him, and adults were more prone to gossip than the rowdiest of teenagers – he’d be painfully oblivious if he didn’t think you knew that much about him, or more than the average friend.

But it’s comforting to him, sometimes. Knowing you, how kindly you think of others, he might not have to explain what he’s feeling in the moment. You would be able to know, and that soothes him to some degree.

Maybe he had a little bit too much wine as well, but ever so subtly, motions steady and unhurried, he deftly leans closer and closer until his lips brush the apple of your cheek. He lingers for no more than a few seconds and sits back up, gazing at you before standing. His hands adjust the blankets and make sure you’re properly tucked in. He pads away, shutting the door behind him as quietly as possible as to not wake you.

And when he’s found a comfortable position on the futon with his most comfortable throw blanket, he realizes, begrudgingly, that this week will fly by too fast for his liking.  

[aurathian]

Did you hear the Goddess?

Probably my best submission for @zelinkweek2021 . The prompt is Trust: Broken & Forged.

Read it here on AO3!

When Princess Zelda was little, her mother took her to visit one of the three springs scattered throughout Hyrule. With some guards at their sides, they ventured into the autumnal region of Akkala and into its quarries etched into the valley where the Spring of Power laid. Clinging to her mother’s arm, the pair waded into the pool before the statue of the Goddess Hylia, and together they prayed. The young princess didn’t understand what was going on, so she prayed how she usually did every night, asking for world peace and to end hunger. It felt no different than kneeling at her bedside with the moon shining on her face, except the freezing waters that stung her knees.

After what seemed like an eternity to Zelda, her mother tapped her shoulder and asked, “Did you hear the Goddess?”

She shook her head.

A frown colored her mother’s lips. The princess had never seen her look so disappointed before.

After some months, during which her mother and father set her about praying anytime she could, she made the journey to the Temple of Time to pray at the statue there. The queen accompanied her again and prayed at her side as usual. Like last time, the little princess clasped her hands together as tight as she could, screwed her eyes shut, and prayed for world peace and to end hunger.

Her mother asked the same question as last time. “Did you hear the Goddess?”

And Zelda shook her head, watched her mother’s mouth curl into a frown and shake her head.

“Are you mad?” Zelda asked. At only four years old, she couldn’t tell if her mother was angry or sad. Maybe both, she thought.

The queen inhaled and exhaled slowly before opening her eyes, bearing a much more gentle gaze. “No. I’m not.”

The third time they prayed together was right before her mother died, and they did it at the small statue in an empty alley in Gerudo Town. Princess Zelda was six now, and had spent the past two years training hard and praying during the day, and sometimes she had dreams where she prayed, too. They knelt before the statue and prayed, and she wished once again for world peace and to end hunger, but this time she asked for a little more.

“If it’s not too selfish of me, Miss Goddess Hylia,” Zelda thought, “please make my mother happy.”

Her mother asked her the same question again after some hours of praying in the heat. “Did you hear the Goddess?”

Sadly, Zelda shook her head. She couldn’t bear to look at her mother’s face, but she assumed it was wrought with sadness and disappointment.

Despite the faith drilled into Zelda since birth, she wondered if Hylia was even real.

Zelda’s mother died two months later.

Some days after the funeral and period of mourning in which Zelda shut herself in her room and hardly ate, her father told her the real reason for all the praying, the real reason why her mother never seemed satisfied after they knelt and prayed together.

“Hyrule is facing impending doom,” he told her, “and only you can stop it. You must pray to the Goddess Hylia and awaken your sacred powers.”

The training became worse. Every second she wasn’t eating or sleeping, she was praying—in her room, in the gardens, in the chapel, everywhere. Every time she failed to hear the Goddess, her father would scold her.

“Did you hear the Goddess?” he’d ask.

“No,” she’d reply.

“You must train harder.”

Hyrule Castle became cold.

When Zelda turned twelve, she developed an obsession with Sheikah technology, and thanks to her connections through her close friend and advisor Impa, she got her hands on too many trinkets to count. In the time she wasn’t praying, she was researching, reading any text she could get her small hands on and visiting whatever ancient sites she could.

Around that same time, she heard rumors of a boy who pulled the legendary Master Sword, a blade said to seal darkness. Apparently, he could best even adults in combat.

Hyrule was proud of him.

Yet, when Princess Zelda worked just as hard, she was called useless. Incapable. Unreliable. All because the Goddess above refused to speak to her.

Then, at the age of sixteen, the legendary Master Sword wielder was appointed her bodyguard, and he was perfect. Silent, stoic, he was better than her in the way he carried himself and fulfilled his duties expertly.

“Stop following me!” she’d yelled at him once after sneaking away from the castle to investigate a dormant shrine. It refused to open to her, even with the Sheikah Slate in her hands, a powerful yet small piece of ancient technology. He did not stop following her. He completed his duty, as always.

Princess Zelda hated him. Link was too good for her, and it showed in the way he never spoke and the way his eyes always looked dead when he would glance at her. He was everything she wasn’t, and she despised him for it.

Until he saved her life.

The blades of the Yiga had almost claimed her on a hot evening in the desert as the sun was setting. They chased her over the dunes until she fell over and they positioned themselves to kill, but almost as if ordained by the Goddesses, he appeared and drove them off.

Once again, he fulfilled his duty, but it felt like something more.

The next day, she apologized to him for how she’d treated him.

He did so much for her, she realized; he ate a frog, he accompanied her on unapproved expeditions, he’d indulged her feelings.

It was raining on the day they took shelter on the Hills of Baumer along Hylia River. He, the ever dedicated knight, practiced his swordsmanship while she watched wistfully, and she asked him:

“What if, one day, you realized that you just weren’t meant to be a fighter? Yet the only thing people ever said was that you were born into a family of the royal guard, and so no matter what you thought, you had to become a knight.” His stony gaze was trained on her now. “If that was the only thing that you were ever told, I wonder, then, would you have chosen a different path?”

His lips moved in the rain.

“Yes,” he said. It was the first time he spoke to her.

“Really?” she sighed. “Me, too.”

More time passed. She came to learn that Link was a glutton and that he lost all sense of manners when food was placed before him. She discovered he was not perfect. He was not the flawless hero Hyrule made him about to be.

Princess Zelda was sent to the Spring of Power to pray again, after over ten years of avoiding that spring. She waded into its waters, higher now, and instead of stinging her knees it stung her waist. She clasped her hands again and looked up to the statue illuminated by the moonlight. The Goddess Hylia never changed. She wore the same small, deceitful smile and her hands lay rested over her chest. Link stayed behind at the entrance to stand guard.

This time, when Zelda prayed, she asked for the power inside her to be awoken.

“Mother said her own powers would develop in me,” Zelda said. She could hear the voice of the deceased queen in her head, asking if she heard the goddess, and it repeated over and over like a mantra. “But I don’t hear… or feel anything!” She slammed her fists in the water. No longer was it praying; it was begging. “Curse you. I’ve spent every day of my life dedicated to praying! I’ve pleaded to the spirits tied to the ancient gods, and still the holy powers have proven deaf to my devotion.”

She clutched herself, freezing from the holy waters. “Please just tell me… what is it? What’s wrong with me?”

She fainted, and still, no Goddess spoke to her.

When she came to, she was cradled in something warm and inviting, muscular and strong. Her vision cleared, and she saw the face of her personal knight staring down at her as he pulled a blanket over her freezing body.

He asked her, “Did you hear the Goddess?”

“No,” she whispered, and stared at his lips, waiting for them to turn downward.

“It’s okay,” he told her, pulling her closer to his warm chest.

And, for the first time in her sixteen years of life, she knew it would be okay. Everything would be okay, because she trusted him. In a world where she couldn’t trust the deities she’d been told to revere all her life, she found someone else to pray to.

Link, wielder of the sword that seals the darkness.