#i have been suffering. its not fun. like. a lot of my meals lately have just been power bars.

[pizzapizzadickz]

Me rapid-fucking-firing between my two (2) interests I have at increasingly rapid rates.

[alexanderlightweight]

Malec based on the story of Savitri and Satyavan please? There’s a ted ed video of it if you need it

i had a lot of fun with this so i hope you enjoy and thank you for the prompt!

for anyone curious about the story here is a link with the video.

even if you're not curious because of the fic, i'd suggest watching as its a beautiful soulmate story and i absolutely loved incorporating it with malec.

<3 lumine

-

Magnus startles as an arrow flies past him, embedding itself in the last demon he was about to snuff out.

“Now that’s a weapon I haven’t seen for quite some time.” He says into the darkness, “what ever are you trying to hunt in Brooklyn with one of those?”

A figure steps out of the darkness, tall dark and devastatingly handsome and there’s a look of contained wonder as he steps closer to Magnus.

“I was shadow hunting.” He’s told with a dry smirk, “I thought I saw one.” 

It’s then that Magnus sees the dark lines he will never fail to recognize creating runes across the man’s neck and arms.

However, shadowhunters don’t leave Idris anymore, content to stay safe and let the rest of the world suffer the demons that nephilim no longer hunt nightly.

They swore to never come out of their city after the Uprising and failed negotiations for new accords. In their own words, the clave will not send aid for anything less than world catastrophes.

Magnus finds he has less free time and gets his hands a fair bit dirtier, but it’s also much less troublesome.

He doubts the werewolves, vampires and less powerful warlocks agree but well, that’s their problem.  Magnus quite prefers not having to deal with nephilim though he will make an exception for the one in front of him.

“And what is a lone nephilim doing wondering the streets of the outside world? Is there an apocalypse I haven’t noticed?”

There’s a pause and a pained grimace and the shadowhunter shrugs, “I’m no longer welcome in Alicante.”

Magnus takes a moment to wonder why but some instinct in him is both curious and intrigued and he steps closer. “I’m Magnus Bane. Tell me over a meal why you’re exiled in my territory, you look like you could use one.” Magnus doesn’t mean to say it, but he can’t help it and instead of getting offended, the shadowhunter seems confused.

As if it’s been a very long time since someone cared about his wellbeing, even as a method for information.

He’s activating every single one of Magnus’ normally non-existent protective instincts and Magnus tuts and opens a portal. He holds out a hand and after a moment it’s taken and he’s followed through to his lair.

He meant to take the shadowhunter somewhere less private, less personal but it’s too late now and Magnus smirks, as if this was his plan all along.

“Drinks?” He suggests and then because he really is concerned, he snaps his fingers and summons plates and bowls of foods and pitchers and pots of drinks.

There’s a moment of contemplation and then, in an intimate but careful gesture the shadowhunter brushes his fingers against Magnus’ wrist in quiet thanks.

“I’m Alec.”

He’s told, no family name offered and Magnus immediately thinks, “Alexander.” He doesn’t realize he’s murmured it aloud until Alexander blinks and then smiles softly at him, nodding.

There is a carefulness as Alexander sits and eats and drinks slowly that makes Magnus want to rage.

“Will you tell me, what happened?” Magnus asks, because while he could demand it, he wants to know because Alexander trusts him.  It’s a silly hope but even as Magnus is reminding himself not to be disappointed to not find out, Alexander nods.

“A rift opened in Alicante two months ago and Lilith attacked. We couldn’t keep up with her demons and the clave summoned Asmodeus, striking a deal with him.”

Magnus stares in shock and despite what he wants, his glamour falls and he can tell instantly that they’re recognized.

For a moment, Magnus thinks Alexander will attack him and the part of him that hates himself and his father thinks it will almost be deserved.

“They’re so much prettier on you.” Alexander blurts out and then he flushes, as if he can’t believe he said such a thing and Magnus can’t either.  “Sorry it’s just. They just look different.”  When it becomes clear that Magnus doesn’t understand what he means — he’s only ever seen his father’s eyes staring back at him — Alexander scowls. “It’s like the difference between one of those plastic mundane gems and a real one.”

Magnus is beyond flattered and he blinks, wondering just where exiled shadowhunters learned to be so coy.

Especially after learning that his father is involved in the reason Alexander no longer has a home.

“What happened?” He asks and he can’t help but reach out and press his hand to Alexander’s knee in comfort.

Alexander gives him an almost apologetic look, features tight, “I’m from one of the disgraced families, Magnus.” He admits, like Magnus would ever hold his parents against him, especially in a situation like this. Magnus isn’t surprised that Alexander is from one of the many families who joined the Circle and fell from their prestige when returned to Idris.

“Asmodeus wanted a nephilim soul, freely given. My family was picked because we have the most children for spare heirs. I volunteered for my siblings and the deal was struck. Fifteen months of life tied to Edom before Asmodeus collects me to harvest my soul.” Alexander shrugs, unaffected as if he has long since accepted his fate. “In return, he closed the rift.”

Magnus is unsurprised by both the clave forcing innocents to clean up their mess and his father’s part in this.  Undoubtedly, the real reason his father gave Alexander so long was to force his soul to wallow in despair with the knowledge of his fate.

“And the exile?”

“My soul is now tied to a demon. I am unfit to reside in the walls of Alicante and so I came here.”

“Where are you living?” It should feel like an interrogation but it feels so easy, to wonder and be concerned for Alexander and he’s given a small smile in return.

“The abandoned Institute in Manhattan.  The angelic core was never able be retrieved and so while it’s a bit run down, it has enough energy to power some wards and protections.” Alexander shrugs, as if Magnus doesn’t know exactly what kind of conditions the Institute is in.

“You’ll stay here instead of that drafty place.” Magnus says — a tone of finality he doesn’t even understand himself — in his voice. “Darling, nephilim are a rare treat in the downworld these days. It simply isn’t safe and while I could ward the Institute for you—”

“Magnus I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Alexander cuts in, looking distressed at the very idea of causing Magnus so much work.

“I didn’t hear you ask me for anything,” Magnus teases and Alexander blushes, looking away for a moment. “However, warding the whole Institute seems wasteful when I can simply keep you here, where the wards are already in existence and can keep you safe.”

“Magnus, you know now that nothing can keep me safe. Not forever.” Alexander hedges, something soft in his voice as if he’s worried the reminder will hurt Magnus… and it does. “I only have about a year until your father claims my soul.” Alexander reminds him and he looks worried, as if any of this was ever Alexander’s fault.

“That’s still a year that I can protect you. That I can keep you safe, Alexander.” And then, because Magnus isn’t sure how he knows that Alexander is where he meets his fate but he murmurs a soft, courageous, “How can you ask me to give you up even sooner than I absolutely must?”

It shouldn’t be this easy to know that Alexander was meant for him but Magnus thinks he knew from the moment Alexander took his hand that this was different.

And Alexander breaks and turns, shaking as he presses himself to Magnus and hugs him tightly.

Whatever strange fate has them meeting, Magnus already knows that there is nothing he wouldn’t do for Alexander.

—

They fall into their relationship with a desperation born from an hourglass that never stops its trickle of sand.

Catarina and Ragnor are happy for him until they learn the circumstances and while they want to protect him, they love him too much to cause him anymore pain. Catarina cries when Magnus tells her and she holds him close and kisses his forehead, promising him everything she can.

Ragnor buries himself in his archives and studies rituals, dark magicks that Magnus can use against his father. Artifacts that will protect him and boost his powers and Catarina helps him with Alexander.

There is a toll on a soul when it’s sold to a demon and the contract to Asmodeus drains Alexander daily. Asmodeus gave Alexander so many months to live not out of generosity, but because he wanted to feed on the despair of a soul abandoned by everyone it trusted.

However Alexander trusts Magnus with a fervor that still astounds him and Magnus caresses Alexander’s face as his boy bathes in potions and herbs. Anything to combat the strain on his soul and keep up his strength.

Because Alexander will need all the strength he can get, just to hold on.  But he’ll survive because Alexander would do anything if it were for Magnus’ sake.

Magnus kisses Alexander’s brow and taking a breath he begins to weave his magic into the very fiber of Alexander’s soul, beyond where Asmodeus can yet reach.

Alexander smiles up at him and kisses Magnus’ palm when he reaches out.

“You are my world, Alexander.” Magnus tells him and Alexander chuckles and kisses his palm again with voiceless adoration. “I will never have another after you darling, I couldn’t bear to, so you must stay strong.”

“I’ll always try my best, to live for you.” Alexander promises because it’s the only thing he can try.

—

Asmodeus comes as he was always going to and while Alec won’t be able to fight — he’s not even going to try, he can’t — Magnus has hope for his vitality and health. Things that have been carefully boosted and curated over the last year to help him stay conscious when he’s taken to Edom.

“Magnus, somehow I thought you had better taste than the dregs of my contracts.” His father says a moue of disdain on his face as his voice drips with disappointment.

“What do you want for him?” Magnus asks, because that’s how he has to start this. Trying to bargain for Alexander.

Asmodeus looks at him curiously and then he grins, smile wide and vicious as he takes him in.

“Does he mean so much to you then?” Asmodeus asks and he grips Alexander by his hair, shaking him like he’s some pest. “Think less of what I want for him, Magnus and tell me what you’re willing to give me.”

Magnus swallows and offers, “I will release you from the binding I put on you. Free to leave Edom as you wish.”

Asmodeus looks at him for a minute and then laughs and shakes his head.

“I will gain far more than that from a willingly harvested nephilim soul, Magnus. You bargain too cheaply, still afraid to take risks.”

Asmodeus takes Alexander away and Magnus grits his teeth and triggers the array that will take him to Edom.

Magnus attacks his father before he has a chance to be surprised that Magnus followed him.

His magic lashes out, whipping through the air and never once harming Alexander even as Asmodeus tries to use him as a shield.

Realizing the futility, Asmodeus throws Alexander to the side and Magnus watches as his boy meets his gaze and nods, just a little.

It’s enough to fuel him and Magnus puts every ounce of possessive, desperate adoration into his next blow and it takes his father down.

Not for long and Magnus snarls as he’s thrown into the rocks. 

His father portals and Magnus follows him, spitting blood and smearing it across his jaw as he wipes his mouth.

The next attack, Magnus sends shards of molten fire through Edom’s sands to sear his father’s talons. There’s a whistle of rage and then Magnus is being choked and he grabs the whip with hands that sear from how much more powerful his father’s flames are.

Magnus breaks the tether and screams as he throws acid at his father. It falls as harmless as dewdrops against Alexander — his magic will never harm his boy — but his father bats it away effortlessly with an almost annoyed sigh.

“Really Magnus, this grows tedious. Though I admire your determination, even if it could be better applied.” Asmodeus leaves and Magnus opens the five potions Cat and Ragnor prepared for him and down them in quick succession.

Then, he takes off the platinum bands on his wrists that have been constraining his power, saving the last of it for this final effort.

He portals a last time, right as his father is about to drag Alexander into the ceremonial halls and Magnus follows, waiting until they’re in the ritual room before he attacks.

Alexander is motionless on an altar but his eyes are clear through his pain as he watches Magnus, his sides heaving with labored breath as Edom very atmosphere slowly poisons him.

“Do you want him to die for no reason at all?” Asmodeus asks mockingly, “at least this way his death won’t be a waste.  Or do you want his soul for yourself?”

Magnus clenches his fists, feeling the burns there that sting with fire as if it had never been put out.

“No matter how much I admire your pride and tenacity, I will not give him back to you.” Asmodeus warns, a cruel, smug glint on his face.

Magnus growls, face twisted into a snarl of hate as he once again readies himself for an attack.  Just as he’s about to release it, Asmodeus sends a blast of lightning through the sand.

Magnus curses as glass forms around him and shatters under the weight of his magic.  What is meant to be an attack turns to defense as he deflects them from himself, feeling warm blood slide down from the shards of Asmodeus magic he couldn’t destroy.

“You’ve impressed me son.” Asmodeus tells him thoughtfully and Magnus spits out blood as he forces himself to stand straight and not waver. “I will give you one wish alone, as a reward. A boon from a father to his heir, as long as it isn’t that.” Asmodeus motions to Alexander and smirks, as if Magnus needs to be shown what he means.

Magnus doesn’t even need to think.

There was never a chance his father would give up Alexander but he already knows what he wants.

“Then I want you to release my magic. All of it, every single piece of my magic that you’ve hoarded away for yourself.

“So be it.” Asmodeus says with a vicious laugh, “my heir finally understanding how deals work. A pity for your lover.” Then his eyes narrow, “though if you hope to take him back by force, I will not be lenient in teaching you a lesson.”

If he thinks his words will shatter Alexander or Magnus, then he’s mistaken because his boy is looking at Magnus with nothing but love and trust and determination in his eyes.

“A vow then, upon our blood. I will never again ask you for Alexander or his soul. I will not try to take him from you by word or force. Nor will I try to gain back his soul once you’ve harvested it.  In return, you will give back to me every part of my magic that you have ever taken from me. You will return it intact and you will never again be able to touch a single part of my magic again.”

Asmodeus is surprised by the vow but delighted and he chuckles, the image of a proud father as he drops Alexander — abandoning his limp form in the sand and glass — and comes forward to hug Magnus.

The vow clicks into place as they embrace and Magnus knows the moment Asmodeus realizes what has happened.  His father grips him harder in cruel disbelief before he laughs.  It’s a harsh, angry sound but he also seems wary.  As if Magnus has surprised him in a way he didn’t expect.

“You’re more clever than I remember.” Asmodeus tells him, eyes covetous as he stares at him. “You’re perfect to rule with me, why do you deny it?”

“I have a kingdom of my own.” Magnus reminds him with a dark, bloody smile as his stolen magic returns to him, Alexander along with it and he picks Alexander up and holds him to his chest. “I have no need for antiquities or legacies, father. I have plenty authority of my own without needing to rely on handouts.”

He smirks back at his father, content with the fact that he has, for the first time, successfully beat Asmodeus.

“They’ll let him return now that I no longer own his soul.” Asmodeus reminds him, “do you really think he’ll stay with you with that kind of a choice before him?”

“You’ve already forgotten how I won. Alexander is mine, a part of my magic lives in his soul and will forever, forever bound to him in an eternal way. Alicante will never let him through their wards and he wouldn’t want them to.”

Magnus ignores any further attempts at manipulations and turns, knowing that his father won’t dare to attack him.  Not with all of Magnus’ reclaimed magic writhing around him, furious at the idea of Asmodeus — the thief — coming near. 

So much of his magic is strange and fearsomely different from its time trapped in Edom but all of it curls around Magnus and around Alexander.  It gives him the strength to turn his back and carry Alexander out of his father’s throne room.

Magnus walks through the dilapidated palace and into the sands of Edom and takes a deep, gasping breath because he didn’t know if that would work. Magnus had only hoped and hoped and he holds Alexander unconscious body to him fiercely.

A portal opens to the strongest most secret of his lairs and Magnus walks them through.  Soon he will return to his seat of power but for a few days, he will content himself in reassuring himself that the man he loves still lives.

Here, safe and belonging only to Magnus and himself.

[kyndaris]

Fairy Dervishes

Hoping to wake early in order to catch an iconic hot air balloon ride over Cappadocia, I slept poorly. While some of it could have been attributed to my head cold worsening briefly, I also felt like it was my bubbling anxiety of whether the ride would go ahead or if it would be cancelled. When the allotted time for when the guide would call us about the situate came and passed (about midnight), I was able to drift into an uneasy slumber.

Only to wake intermittently until 4:30AM when I began getting ready for the day. Just as I was about to venture out at 5:20AM, the call came from the guide that the hot air balloons would not be able to fly and the event was cancelled!

Disappointed, I lay back on my bed, hoping to give my body some additional rest to shake my sudden illness. And also to counteract the terrible sleep I had.

With no hot air balloon ride to hold us up, we departed the hotel at 8AM and stopped briefly to admire the ‘fairy chimneys’ of Cappadocia. How they got their name remains a mystery to me, however the guide was quick to tell us that the fairy chimneys were a result of volcanic activity and the spewing of molten rock up into the air and erosion, resulting in the below pictures.

In order to take photos of these uniquely shaped rocks, we had to get up onto a wooden platform. The going was slow because there was a thin coating of ice covering the wooden planks. One member of the tour group even slipped and fell!

Later, we drove down to the Sultanhani Caravanserai for a quick pit stop on our long drive down to Antalya. The Sultanhani Caravanserai was a fitting area to stop at as the building itself was previously used to meet the accommodation and needs of travellers in the distant past.

The caravanserai itself was built in 1229CE under the order of the Seljuk Sultan Alaeddin Keyk bad-I. It was later expanded by a local governor in 1278. And although it was used to provide food, water and shelter for travellers in the past, it now hosted an assortment of precious rugs.

Lunch was had at Konya, a city in Turkey. Afterwards, and I was profoundly sick of eating the same old Turkish food of doners and soup (which is not to say that I dislike their food but after having it day after day, meal after meal, I was looking forward to a bit more variety), we entered the Mevlana Museum. 

Fun fact, by the way, but Konya was the capital of the Seljuk Turks’ Sultunate of Rum in the late medieval period. It also hosted the special known order as the Meslevi. Which is also known as the Order of the  Whriring Dervishes, famous for the Sufi dance known as the Sema ceremony. The Mevlana in question was Jalaleddin Rumi and his doctrine was passed down through the ages through the efforts of his son, Sultan Valad and Ulu Arif Chalebi.

A lot of what the Mevlana wore also became the uniform of the Order, which became symbolic throughout history: long caps and wonderiful flowing coats. As for the dervishes themsleves, according to the rites of the Mevleviyah, a dervish that completes the 1001 days of suffering is granted the title ‘dede’ and a cell. Following another ordeal of 18 days, they become what is known as a Mevlevi Dede and they train nevniyazs on Masnari, poetry, music, calligraphy and guling, along with providing a spiritual discipline for moral development.

Long story short, the Mevlana was a Muslim saint and was known far and wide for his poetry and being a mystic in the old times. The museum dedicated to the Order that he fathered was visited by locals and tourists alike, with some praying to him for health or luck in their endeavours.

After hopping back onto the coach, it was another long afternoon drive. We stopped several times for quick bathroom breaks but it was as we were driving through the Taurus Mountain range that everyone seemingly woke up to take quick snaps of the beautiful passing landscape with its snow-capped mountains. It helped too that the afternoon sun was finally peeking through after an entire morning of heavy grey overcast clouds.

It was almost 8PM when we pulled up at the Ramada in Antalya. Our guide was quick to inform us that the area was a popular tourist destination for Germans and Russians. After was was declared in Ukraine, the population also exploded as many citizens of Ukraine and Russia who fled the region wound up in the warm southern city close to the Mediterranean.

And looking at the signs that were written in both German and Russian, the story our tour guide told felt like it was most definitely based in fact.

While we didn’t make it to the Aspendos Ancient Theatre during the day, tomorrow is another day that promises to be worthwhile if tiring.

[kariuann]

When He's Gone

huhuhu i love you all, thank u for supporting this series

idk how many parts this is

but I will complete this

warning: cusses, usage of alcohol

synopsis: Lucifer undergoes several changes after the argument, and when Mammon goes missing, his brothers try to find him.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Ya wanna know why I’m doin’ all of this, DEAR brother?!”

“It’s my fucking sin, dammit!”

“Ya made me like this, DEAR brother!”

“I SHOULD’VE NEVER FOLLOWED YA!!”

“…!”

Lucifer sprung up from his deep slumber as his mind recalls what his younger brother said. He grunts as he looks up from his window. It was still too early to wake up.

Since then, Lucifer has been a mess.

Every single night he would have the same nightmare, and he would have great difficulties going back to sleep once again. That caused his form to be much more disheveled than what he tries to maintain, and by then he became a lot colder to his own brothers. The others couldn’t even find it to themselves to join him in meals, except for Beelzebub.

He was much worse at RAD, too.

He became the last one to attend to meetings, he kept glaring to everyone he would meet, and the demons surrounding him were beginning to flee once they saw him, in fear that he would try to kill them on the spot. Barbatos, being the observant he is, noticed this drastic change as soon as it started, and he would always report it to the young master.

The purgatory hall members were starting to get a little concerned, too. One time, they held a private meeting alongside the other brothers. It was then that they found out the cause of all this.

“Where’s Mammon?”

The brothers were silent once Simeon asked. Mentioning his own name sparked their memories of what happened that day, how Mammon finally lashed out on his own brother. Finally, Asmodeus spoke.

“We haven’t seen him in days.”

Silence then followed afterwards, growing heavy as minutes pass.

“We don’t know where he went, or what’s he doing right now… I’m starting to get worried…”

It was clear to the purgatory hall members that whatever happened on that day made a huge impact to the others, seeing as Beel would eat much less and Asmo would grow dark circles under his eyes. Barbatos opted to tell them the cause, which they managed while trying to hold back their tears.

“It was all my fault! If I hadn’t insulted him so many times already this would never happen!” Levi broke, choking into sobs. Satan tried to calm him down.

“It’s not just you, Levi. I, too, admit that I am part of what happened…”

“Still, though, where did Mammon go?”

It was decided that they look for the white-haired man, with Diavolo granting them permission to cut classes. They tried to look at every place he would go, to all the casinos, Ristorante Six, they went to almost every part of Devildom but there was still no sign of him. Seeing as it’s already late in the night, they decided to retreat for now.

Back in the House of Lamentation, inside his room, Lucifer was observing his brothers return from their search. Holding his bottle of Demonus, he walked towards his scattered paperwork and turning up the volume of his cursed CD player. He could only watch as his pride stops him from doing anything.

“I should’ve NEVER followed you!!”

“Aaaagh!”

Sounds of shattering glass could be heard across his very messy room. Puddles of Demonus could be seen everywhere, staining the papers beside a very sober inhabitant. He could only wince as Mammon’s voice keeps ringing on his head.

Guilt was starting to swallow him, pain continually growing inside his chest. But he knows it was nothing compared to what Mammon suffered almost every day. He feared that he would lose another member of his family, an important member he’s so fond of since his times in Celestial Realm, and all of it was his fault.

It was high time his pride shattered.

Where could Mammon be? If his brothers couldn’t find him anywhere, then where was he? Well, there was still one place the brothers didn’t check, and that was the place where they all fell. In there, Mammon bawled his eyes out to the point that he was having a hard time breathing. At one point, he passed out.

But when he woke up, he realized where he needed to go. To the only place where he could be safe, where he could feel that he was loved. The human world.

There were ways of getting there, and he was not about to walk all the layers of Devildom. He would use the old method he usually does when witches would call him, and he wants to see you so much that he thinks it’s the only way.

Though prohibited, he was to break rules once again.

As soon as he got there, he heaved a sigh of victory. He thought that if he were to be in your arms again, he wouldn’t have to go back to the Devildom and face his brothers. Even if he was forced to go back, he would try to make a way to come back to you. You were his soulmate, his lucky charm, his treasure. He would never allow anyone to stop him from reaching you.

You were on the balcony one night when a crow fell right on your head. Thinking it was another of Mammon’s familiars, you quickly headed inside to write a letter.

“Y/N!”

“Mammon?!”

There he was, your first guy, sobbing into your arms.

You tried to calm him down by stroking his head, just like he loved it back in the Devildom. You never saw him tremble so much and cry so much, and when he started to calm down that was your moment to strike.

“What happened…?”

“L-Lucifer… He…”

He tried to answer as he held back sobs. The pain was just too much for him to bear.

“Why don’t we head outside? Have a little walk?”

As much as he wanted to rest with you, he didn’t have the energy to refuse. He quickly wiped his tears and brought his trademark shades to cover his puffy eyes. Both of you walked slowly hand in hand, content in the peace surrounding you both. Mammon knew it was the right thing to come to you, you really know how to make him feel better.

You both sat by the cold, grassy ground in a nearby park, and from there you could see the view of the city lights. You tried to divert Mammon’s attention to something else, and both of you had fun talking random stuff into the night.

When it was time for you to leave, you both turned around to see three figures standing in front of you. All were familiar, and all were looking at the now trembling white haired guy. One person in particular glared at him straight, with black hairs into a mess you’ve never seen before.

“Found you, dear brother.”

Part 3 coming soon!

Taglist: @obeythebutler @huaxxian @simping-hours-are-24-7 @kamiaka @breezethroughthesummertrees @sufzku @its-evelyn @garnetashblurb @raissatajra @undertaker-02 @strwbrryxprtzl @mammonangstsquad @thedum1

[earliebirb]

Steve not noticing that he goes into Tony kisses withdrawals when Tony’s away, but the rest of the team do. Like a first if Tony is out for a day or two and Steve doesn’t get his morning kiss he’s grumpy until after lunch, so the team introduces secret “Tony is away” brunch protocols, to get it over faster. After 4 days he’s moping unless he’s training or out with friends so it’s bootcamp/friend fieldtrips time.

2 weeks where he’s not on a mission and Tony’s out of the country and so busy he can barely video chat? The rest of the team sequesters him to the couch with ice cream and tv shows that Steve would like but aren’t on the “only watch first with Tony” list.

(The list includes all Star Wars’ and Treks, LoTR, Ghibli movies, and Die Hards. Steve can watch Mike Schur shows and Game of Thrones. While Disney movies and Romcoms are allowed by Tony without him, they are banned by the team cuz Steve starts crying during them at this point in the withdrawal process)

Eventually the team just kidnaps and throws him into a Quinjet and has him surprise Tony in his hotel after 3 weeks of no Tony and no mission calls. He is intolerably whiny, has grown his depression beard, and keeps calling the president, Fury, and other country’s heads of state to see if there’s aliens attacking.

LOOK LISTEN THE FIRST TIME I RECEIVED THIS ASK I WAS LIKE WOW ARE WE THE SAME PERSON??? Because Steve-suffering-from-Tony-withdrawal is also a personal headcanon of mine that I've carried in my head for years. It's my Favorite. This ask is very fun and made me laugh a lot and I love it very, very much. Keep your brilliant ideas coming, Anon. I really love them. (I am very sorry for taking a century to go through all of them 😔) Also, since it's Steve's birthday (shhh I'm not late, what are you talking about, shhhhh), I decided to develop this lovely idea and turn it into a birthday fic! I hope you like it! 🤍

let the heart grow fonder

steve/tony, birthday fluff, established relationship, 1174 words

“Was the flight really worth it? A few more days and I would’ve been home anyway.”

“Yeah.” Steve noses the back of his ear and Tony shivers. “But I would’ve been all alone on my birthday.”

“You would hardly be alone. There’s the whole team, and besides— The entire country would practically be celebrating your birthday. Fireworks, barbecues, the whole nine yards.”

“Not the same,” Steve insists stubbornly. Tony sees Steve cupping his hands to gather some water from in front of Tony’s chest before dumping it on Tony’s head. Closing his eyes, Tony lets the warm water seep into his hair and trickle down his face, neck, and back.

He opens his eyes when he feels Steve’s fingers sweeping his hair away from his forehead. “I would trade all of it for a day of doing nothing with my fella.”

“Sweet talker.” Tony huffs. 

“‘S true.” Steve punctuates his statement with a kiss on Tony’s shoulder.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“‘S all your fault. You’re the one who was gone for a ridiculously long time.”

“Honey, trust me, if I had the choice I would much rather stay at home with you.”

Steve sighs, the sound echoing in the bathroom. “I know.”

This time, Tony cups his hands together, gathering a mountain of soapsuds. He blows on it, sending suds and bubbles flying.

“Nat told me all about it, you know.”

“About what?” Steve asks, his luscious beard tickling Tony’s temple.

“About the depression beard. All your sulking and moping. And whining.”

“I did no such things. The beard is me… trying out a new look.”

Tony snorts. “And crying.” 

“Natasha’s a lying liar,” Steve grumbles, hiding his face in Tony’s hair.

“Come on, which movie was it?”

Steve stays silent. With his movements hidden by the soapy water, Tony pokes Steve’s side stealthily.

“Ah!” Steve yelps.

“Which movie was it, baby?”

Steve huffs, resting his forehead against the back of Tony’s skull. 

And then, finally:

“Dumbo,” Steve mumbles in defeat. Tony snickers.

“Oh, honey. You’re such a softie.” Tony sighs fondly as he leans back, letting more of his weight rest against Steve’s body. He lets out a delighted hum when Steve welcomes the extra weight by snaking an arm around his waist.

“No judging,” Steve whines, and Tony grins when he can hear the pout in his voice. “You’d been gone for two weeks by then and I really missed you. Besides, you have no room to talk. Remember The Fox and the Hound?”

“Please. That’s totally different.” Tony rolls his eyes. “Anyone who doesn’t cry at The Fox and the Hound is a monster.”

Submerged up to his shoulders in warm water and pressed up against his naked husband, Tony feels well-rested and content in a way he hadn’t been for the past few weeks.

Still, they only have a few days left before they have to leave for New York, so they should probably make good use of what little time they have left in Milan. 

“I wanna take you to this really beautiful restaurant for your birthday dinner. Super romantic. We could get a private table. You’d love it.”

“Yeah?” Tony feels Steve’s hand stroking up and down his stomach.

“Mm-hm. We should probably get out soon. Get dressed. Look presentable,” Tony says, resting his head back on one of Steve’s shoulders and looking up at him.

Steve looks down at him, his unfairly long lashes wet and clumped together. For a moment, he simply stares back at Tony silently.

“What?” Tony eventually says, unable to withstand the silent scrutiny. He breaks eye contact and lifts one of his feet up and out of the water just because he can, just for something to do.

Tony watches his own foot hover above the surface of the water for a few seconds before another hairy leg breaks the surface of the water. The bigger foot settles on top of Tony’s hovering one until his leg buckles under the weight, sending the two left feet plunging back into the water.

“Rude,” Tony remarks with a frown, turning back to stare up at Steve again.

Steve is already looking at him, almost as if he never looked away in the first place.

“What?”

“Would you be mad at me,” Steve begins, one of his hands reaching up to bury itself in Tony’s damp hair, fingers lightly scratching his scalp, “if I said I’d much prefer it if we stayed in tonight and ordered room service?”

Tony leans back, incredulous. “Room service?”

Steve nods.

“For your birthday dinner?”

He nods again.

“Why?”

Steve shrugs, disturbing the water slightly with the movement. “I mean, I didn’t exactly fly all the way to Italy for the food.”

Tony softens and tries in vain to hold back his smile.

“Yeah?”

An answering smile blooms on Steve’s face. He leans in to nudge Tony’s nose affectionately with his own. “Uh-huh.”

“What did you come here for then?” Tony asks, voice dangerously low and eyes never leaving Steve’s.

“Oh.” Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Keep looking at me like that and I may just skip the room service and go straight for dessert.”

Tony smirks devilishly. “What’s stopping you?”

Blinking rapidly, Steve swallows. “Yeah?”

“I mean, you are the birthday boy.” Tony strokes the line of Steve’s throat with the back of his fingertips and watches in glee as the man shivers.

Eyes wide and cheeks flushed, Steve leans in close and—

“Actually, it’s me. I’m stopping you. I’m really craving some lasagna right now.”

Initially headed for Tony’s lips, Steve changes course and buries his face in Tony’s neck with a guttural groan. 

“Sweetheart. You’re not making things easy for me.”

Tony chuckles. “Nothing about me is easy, honey. I’m a challenge.”

“But it’s my birthday,” Steve complains, voice muffled.

“You got off an eight-hour flight, got to the hotel, and immediately napped for four hours. You haven’t had a proper meal.”

“I ate on the plane.”

“No, we need to get you some proper Italian food. Hearty, heartwarming, fulfilling.”

“Food is just food. I just wanna have you.”

“Um, excuse me? That is deeply insulting. Authentic Italian food is not just food, it’s an experience.”

“I wanna have the Tony experience.”

“You’ll get the Tony experience after you have a proper meal. Look, we can order room service, but we can’t skip dinner.” 

“Fine,” Steve grumbles, face finally emerging from its hiding place. “But can we stay like this for another fifteen minutes?”

Tony settles back against Steve’s chest and lets Steve pull him close. “Of course, birthday boy.”

Steve hums contentedly, resting his chin on the crown of Tony’s head. “You make me really happy, sweetheart. I love you.”

Tony feels Steve’s fingers interlocking on top of his stomach. He looks down, spotting the wedding ring worn on Steve’s ring finger, one that he knows is engraved with his own handwriting. 

The image of the ring is distorted by the water, but still, it glints golden. Tony smiles to himself.

“I love you, too, honey. Happy birthday.”

[thesmutshewrote]

Shh

Boyfriend!Kuroo x F!Reader (feat. Kenma/Nekoma)

Genre: fluff, smut

Prompt: “you better be quiet, princess”

Warnings: punishment, vibrating toys, overstimulation, oral sex (both receiving), degradation, public masturbation, choking, swearing, voyeurism, lingerie, name calling (slut, daddy, master)

Words: 10.4k

A/N: This is a College!AU! where Nekoma is Kuroo’s college team, therefore all characters have been aged up! I don’t see Kuroo as a fuckboy sex god, but I do think he knows exactly what he’s doing in the bedroom.

---

Summary: After your boyfriend Kuroo finds out his team will be having a dinner party after their first day at the National Tournament, you offer a little extra motivation. Little did you know, you’d be suffering in a deafening silence before the night ends.

---

Spending time with your long term boyfriend Kuroo has been your source of comfort, happiness, and simplicity. He’s an attentive lover, so much so that you wonder if he lives inside your brain, accurately reading your every thought. The pair of you met in high school during your second year and shortly became a couple afterwards, adored by your peers. As loyal as they come, Kuroo is loved by all who meet him. He has always motivated you throughout all your days, easy and difficult, helping you grow alongside him. Every morning that you wake up and pry your sluggish body out of bed to leave for school, every extra unnecessary purchase you decline yourself, every assignment you force yourself to finish is all for the sake of becoming a stronger partner for your accomplished boyfriend. He makes every inconvenience an opportunity and his ability to change the mood of a situation amazes you. That’s why it comes as no surprise to you when he’s able to create chaos within you at a moment’s notice.

He’s no stranger to fabricating playful competitions between the two of you which result in complete and utter pleasure for you, usually. The way he tempts and taunts you ever so slightly for weeks on end allowing you no release creates a hunger within you so insatiable even Kuroo himself can’t deny it. He knows exactly which buttons to press to make your face flush a bright rosy pink. How to conjure a heat between your thighs like magic at the will of his speech. Knowing he doesn’t even have to touch you to make you frustrated gives him an immense amount of pleasure. He loved corrupting you into the kinky succubus you’ve become, thanks to his overwhelming talents. You boast that your boyfriend is an absolute god in the bedroom, the best you’ve ever had, since he’s had a lot of practice with you. So when he creates bets and games that end in sinful pleasure, you can’t help but accept his offer and gamble with your body in hopes of a sweet reward.

---

“Babe, you’ll never guess what coach just texted us!” says a wide eyed Kuroo, leaning next to you on the bed to reveal blue and grey chat bubbles from the Nekoma volleyball group chat.

You read the latest text from Coach Nekomata announcing that they will be having a team dinner following their first day at Nationals, followed by excited texts from the other boys asking if there will be meat. Typical.

“Wow, that sounds like it’ll be really fun! You’ll deserve it after your match tomorrow,” you say, excited for your boyfriend.

“It sounds like a good time, but I had other things in mind as a celebration instead,” he says in a low voice, smirking and putting his hand on your thigh.

“Noooo sir,” you snicker, removing his hand. “It’s getting late and you need to get plenty of rest. We don’t have time for any of that tonight.”

“Is that so? Daddy wants to win tomorrow and in order to do that, I need to relieve some of this stress. You’ll be a good girl and get on your knees for me, won’t you?”

The look in his eyes is dark and moody while the corner of his mouth turns upwards in a sadistic smirk. You knew this means he has a strong desire to be pleased and won’t be satiated until he’s been properly taken care of by his submissive slut. You also knew this was the best time to tease him and make him even more aggressive with you, but tonight was different. The usual hunger that constantly dwells within you has dissipated and a new sensation is causing an uproar in your mind you cannot shake; torment him. 

Moving towards your raven-haired lover with a sensuous grin swept across your face, you crawl over top of him and lean down only inches away from his lips and get ready to utter the words that could easily be your demise. Wrestling with the need to satisfy your own cravings and carry out your bratty ploy, you hover over him a few seconds longer enjoying the sight of his full lips. Deciding to stay strong in your idea to tease him, you gently kiss him before pulling away and laying back down on the bed next to him. 

“No thanks,” you retort as you watched the dismay fill his face. Witnessing a sight so rare made it difficult to contain your laughter until sheer devilishness contorted his face. Before he could utter a word about your disobedience, the brightest idea flooded your brain. 

“Instead, let’s play a game.”

“Don’t test my patience,” he warns. “You better think long and hard before you explain this little game of yours because if it doesn’t satisfy me, you will have a long night ahead of you.”

Knowing how serious and restless he’s becoming, you create a deal that will entertain you while giving him enough pleasure in the long run that he won’t torment you too much. 

“If you win tomorrow, I will let you do whatever you want to me for one night; any of your wildest fantasies you’d love to try on me and I won’t tell you to stop. However if you lose, I get to use you in any way that pleases me,” you explain hoping he will agree to this deal knowing you’ll win either way.

Kuroo stares at you confused for a moment before busting out in a deep laugh. 

“Chibi-chan, that isn’t such a fair deal.. for you. We both know I’m going to win tomorrow on the court and then I will take you as my prize,” he taunts. Just the thought of him immediately coming to scoop you up in his arms after winning the game and taking you to the locker room to claim you has you biting your lip.

“..in straight sets. You have to win in straight sets.”

“Deal,” he says with a sly grin, pulling you closer and positioning your leg bent over top of his, giving him a perfect handful of your ass. 

“Watch your hands, lover boy. You can wait until tomorrow to have your fun with me,” you tease.

“Just be prepared because I’m going to punish you thoroughly for being such a disrespectful little brat when I win tomorrow and I’m going to enjoy every last second of watching you come completely undone at my touch.”

“Promise?” you smirk, biting your lip.

“Promise,” he glares at you with sultry eyes. 

---

The next morning you wake up feeling drowsy, the excitement of your bet kept you awake leaving too many thoughts running through your head waiting to be sorted. Noticing the cool feeling of the sheets behind your back, you turn around to notice Kuroo missing from your bed. “How long has he been gone?” you thought. As you check the time on your phone, you smell the disgustingly delicious aroma of a familiar scent coming from the kitchen. Bacon.

Mustering the strength to stand up, you quickly stretch before wrapping yourself in your blanket like a burrito to contain the warmth of your body. In the kitchen you discover Kuroo slaving himself over the stove cooking up a full breakfast for the two of you to share together. His generosity knows no bounds, but with the distress you caused your horny boyfriend last night, you became skeptical about the intentions of this homemade meal. 

“Good morning, beautiful. I hope I didn’t wake you,” he says smiling.

“What’s all this for, baby?”

Kuroo finishes plating your food and places it on the table next to a large glass of cranberry juice. He gently kisses your cheek before sitting down across from you. “Can’t I make my girlfriend a nice breakfast?” he pouts.

“Since when did we have this?” you ask, taking a sip of your cranberry juice.

“I went out this morning and bought some. I want my dessert to taste extra sweet tonight,” he snickers.

You roll your eyes at his filth while trying to hide your excitement, reminiscing how absolutely divine his tongue feels on your sensitive bud. Attempting to ignore the ungodly thoughts plaguing your mind, you quickly chug down a few sips of your juice, before instantly being brought back to reality by the mildly acidic taste. Kuroo hasn’t taken his eyes off you once since you’ve sat down and you’re hoping he didn’t notice the effect he had on you with the insinuation of being given such an intimate gift, but nothing gets past the trained eyes of the captain. 

“Isn’t it a little too early to be making a mess of yourself, love?” he teases looking up at you before taking a bite of his food. The way he dangles his fork loosely in his hands in front of his mouth gives you a perfect view of the veins slightly embossed in his knuckles. You clench down your teeth in a feeble attempt at cooling yourself down. A pink flush radiates across your cheeks as you realize a second later that your panties are already slightly wet with your slick. Your eyes shut closed slowly as you sigh and bite your lip, aggravated that he caught you so easily. 

“I’ll allow it this time, but don’t even dream of touching yourself before this little game of yours has claimed its victor.” He lifts himself off his chair and approaches behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders, gently squeezing them with his strong hands. He whispers in your ear, “if I can’t have you, you can’t either.”

After taking a hot shower to make an attempt at calming yourself down, you can’t seem to make any leeway as your imagination runs wild on possibilities for tonight. Running through every lustful dream you’ve been waiting to try with Kuroo if you win and wondering what he could possibly want from you if he wins. You manage to obey his one simple request and refrain from touching yourself, but the way he got you worked up so easily made you so frustrated. Upon finishing your shower, you pat yourself dry and head back to your room where you find Kuroo almost ready to leave. 

“I have to head out early for warm ups and a little meeting so I’ll have to meet you at the gym. You have the directions, right-” he stops as he turns around and watches your towel fall to the ground, leaving your bare ass before his eyes. He looks you up and down, biting his lip, imagining all the things he wishes he could do to you if he had the time. 

“Oops, my towel fell,” you flirt as you bend over to pick it up, exposing your folds for a brief moment before you straighten up again. 

Suddenly you feel his clothed body pressed against you and his length hardening against your back, while he leans down and whispers in your ear, “I will have no mercy on you tonight. You want to act like a slut so desperate for this cock, I’ll make you beg for it.” He leans down and gives you a quick peck on your bare shoulder before collecting his things and making his way out the door.

---

You finally make it to the gym and are able to score a seat in the front row of the stands with some Nekoma alumni Kuroo had introduced to you before. The boys finished their first match in straight sets, taking the victory as you cheered them on through every play. You could tell Kuroo was putting in extra effort at blocking today, glancing at you every now and then with an expression that says “prepare yourself.” He must be intimidating up close, since this team had trouble spiking against him, not that you’re surprised by your boyfriend's skill. 

After finishing up on the court, the team joined you up in the stands waiting for the next team they’d be playing to finish their game. Kuroo made his way over to you only to be cut off by a tall, silver haired boy you were close friends with.

“Y/n! Did you see me out there?” Lev asked you excitedly. 

You looked up at your boyfriend who was attempting to hide his disappointment, but sat behind his teammate for you to catch up. Noticing the expression on his face, you decided to rile him up a bit and test the boundaries of his temper. 

“Of course I saw! You’re the ace so everyone is watching you,” you say charmingly while putting your hand on his shoulder and looking back at Kuroo with a smirk. His eyes bulge staring at you, but he tries to play cool. 

Lev looks at you with stars in his eyes, adorably excited by being noticed as the ace. “Really? Thanks y/n!” he says as he hugs you tightly. 

Kuroo’s eyes flare up even more and he starts looking visibly angry. You look up at him helpless with innocent eyes that say “I didn’t do anything wrong”, loving the reaction you were getting from your flustered captain. Before either of you knew what was happening, Lev received a slap to the back of his head and immediately pulled away from you. 

A feisty blonde stands above Lev with an expression that looks to be a mixture of fear and anger. “What the hell are you doing, baka?! Kuroo is going to murder you for that!” he exclaims. 

Obviously unaware of his surroundings, Lev turns around to see your boyfriend staring at him while he cracks his knuckles in his hands, his eyebrows furrowed. “S- Sorry Kuroo-san. I couldn’t help it. She called me the ace!” he exclaims, earning a glare from Kuroo who still looks unamused at the tall boy’s antics.

“Don’t touch her,” he says sternly. Kuroo normally isn’t quite this possessive, but you think back to his words this morning and realize why he’s acting this way. “If I can’t have you, you can’t either.” The thought of anyone touching your body before he’s allowed to makes his blood boil.

In perfect timing, the next round is about to start so the boys start heading back down to practice their serves and spikes before they face their new opponent. As the team makes their way out, Kuroo stops by and gives you a kiss on the cheek before he whispers in your ear, “one more dirty trick and I will punish you right here for everyone to see since you seem to like an audience so much.”

Before you can say anything in response, he leaves to join the others out on the court. You wonder if you’re pushing him too far, but quickly justify your actions with reason. He’s more than capable of staying focused during games and as for your teasing, the worst he can do is punish you which was expected either way. You had nothing to worry about, or so you thought. 

Kuroo seemed distracted during this match. They were barely able to take the first set and you weren’t sure if that was because their opponent was simply better than the last team or if you’d really gotten into his head when you flirted with Lev. All you can do now is cheer on your man, you think to yourself, and accept your punishment later.

Approaching the back right corner of the court in a fresh rotation is none other than Kuroo, preparing to serve during their match point in a very close game. He looks over at you and the look on his face makes you freeze, knowing just how he’s feeling. The most stressful serve of the game rests upon his shoulders. 

“Kuroo, nice serve!” you cheer, as you stare at your boyfriend with eager anticipation. He nods at you and for a moment, the corners of his lips turn upwards. 

The whistle blows and Kuroo serves a perfect ball right to the opponents setter, limiting their options during the play. After a few short volleys, the ball goes back to the opponent and they make their last efforts to win the game. Their setter sends the ball left, just as Kuroo had anticipated, as the spiker lines up for the kill. Jumping at the perfect time, Kuroo and Lev leap up to block the ball. The spiker aims for a cross and sends the ball right into Kuroo’s hands. He completely shuts the ball out as they watch it fall on their opponents side. Their libero vaults towards the falling globe, extending his arm out as far as he can. Managing to get close enough to receive it is already slightly annoying, but the match is settled when their libero is unable to connect with the ball, just a fingertip away. 

The boys burst out in cheers, running to each other for a team hug while everyone frantically jumps, excited to play the sport they love for at least one more game together at nationals. You run down to the court as fast as you can and run to your boyfriend who opens you with arms wide open, jumping up to hug him. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you exclaim with a smile stretching from ear to ear. 

“Thank you, my love. You know what this means?”

You wait for him to make a smart remark about punishing you, but instead he answers, “this means we’re going to dinner.” The smirk radiating on his face has you confused. You assume this means he’s going to surprise you after dinner with whatever he has in mind for your punishment. Little did you know he had already planned every minute of the rest of your night.

You give him a kiss before he retreats to the locker room with his teammates and gets cleaned up for dinner. After staying back to talk to the alumni that came to the match while you waited for everyone to finish, Coach Nekomata approached the group. 

“It’s so nice to see you again,” he says to his former students. “and y/n, always a pleasure. Please keep cheering for us. Your presence brings us great strength.” His words are warm and comforting, especially knowing he means exactly as he says. “We’re having dinner together tonight as a team. All of you are more than welcome to join us,” he says before taking his leave.

The alumni talk amongst themselves and decide they will all be attending the dinner since they have extra time and miss their former teammates. You maintain conversation with the alumni, asking questions about Kuroo and his past on the volleyball team. It’s not every day that you get to hear first hand from an outside source all about the mannerisms of volleyball player Kuroo. 

Finally the doors to the locker room open and we wait in anticipation, but only your boyfriend walks out. Approaching him, you ask why he came out alone.

“I have a present for you. Go put it on,” he orders.

“This is so sweet. What is it for?” you wonder.

“Decoration for my prize,” he whispers, shooting you a wink.

Your eyebrow lifts up as your smirk matches his. Brushing past your lover, you make your way to the restroom for some privacy. Knowing his tendencies, you couldn’t even imagine what was in the bag, but you knew you probably didn’t want to unveil it on the gymnasium floor while other teams and camera crews were on their way out. Your boyfriend was the classic boy-next-door type. He does well in his studies, he’s laid-back and kind, and loves spending time with his friends. This dominant side of him only comes out in fragments when he teases, occasionally referred to as a provocateur, but no one would believe you if you told them how much he loves treating you as if you were a whore so needy for his cock. If you were honest with yourself, that’s exactly what you were.

Pushing aside the tissue paper, you see red fabric curled up at the bottom of the bag. Removing it carefully, it feels heavier than you had imagined. You unfold the lacy thong to feel a weighted object at the front end of the crotch. “Oh no,” you thought. 

Holding up your end of the deal, you slip on the panties and put the ones you were wearing in the gift bag. Making your way out of the restroom, you’re surprised to find Kuroo standing outside the door waiting for you. He grabs your hand and pulls you towards the exit. “Come on, everyone is waiting for us to go eat. You sure took your sweet time, love. Does that mean you’re excited?”

---

Before you knew it, you were at the restaurant being seated with the rest of the team. You sat down next to your boyfriend and began socializing about their matches and catching up with the rest of the team. While you're in the middle of a conversation with Inuoka, you feel the little vibrator inside your panties turn on and rattle against your clit just enough to surprise you and make you jump. Your leg hits the underneath of the table as you yelp, gaining a few startled stares from the team. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” Inuoka asks with a worried expression.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a leg spasm,” you cover, shooting a glance at your boyfriend who looks very pleased with himself, leaving the vibrator turned on.

You reach down to grab more food and lift it to your mouth, blowing on it to prevent your mouth from burning, but also using it as a cover for the sighs leaving your lips. Taking a bite, you purr “mmngh this is so delicious!” You glance over at your boyfriend who looks a little agitated that you’ve managed to find a way to cope with the situation so quickly. Every time he increases the level on his remote controlling the vibrator in your panties, you take a bite of food and moan into it, disguising your pleasure as an erotic lust for food. You may appear strange to others, but this is the best you can do under the circumstances to ride out your high without being caught. 

Kuroo leans next to you and whispers in your ear, keeping his volume loud enough that the people close to you could hear if they paid attention to you. “You better keep quiet, princess.”

“But it’s so good!” you whine, dipping your fingertip in sauce before kitten-licking it clean. 

“You’re making such a mess of yourself,” he growls, wiping a bit of sauce leftover on your lower lip with his thumb. 

“Ew, get a room,” a disgusted Lev shrieks.

---

The rest of the night proceeds as expected. Every time you try to speak to anyone when there’s a considerable amount of attention on you, he turns the vibrator on and shocks you. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asks Fukunaga. “You’ve been jittery all night.”

“I’m just excited to see you guys play again tomorrow. Can’t help myself from shaking with excitement!” you explain, slightly lying and exaggerating to circumvent the tension building. You glance at your lover with a hint of annoyance, knowing he’ll pick up on your impatience for dealing with this punishment. In response, he turns up the power level to the third of seven settings, shooting you a glance that reads “I’m not done with you yet.” You clench your legs shut in search of relief only to gain the opposite. Your fingernails dig into the soft palm of your hand attempting to prevent a reaction as the pressure builds at your core.

As embarrassing as it would be for you to be caught doing something like this, especially in the presence of someone as respected as the Coach, it’s turning you on immensely being in the presence of so many people whilst having your sensitive bud being toyed with by your boyfriend. Discreetly, you move your hand to his lap and rub your hand over his bulge, earning you an increase to level four. Your hand naturally retreats away from him as you flinch, taking the change in speed as a warning not to be too bold since this is your punishment after all, but you can’t resist and you reach your hand back over, palming him through his sweatpants.

Looking mildly flustered, Kuroo allows you to touch him and ease some of the stiffness he’s feeling from the confinement of his pants. You glance up into his dark eyes and you smirk at each other, enjoying the scandalous situation you’re both in, before turning your head back to the table to avoid suspicion. Just waiting for one of you to slip up and be too obvious is sounding more and more like a challenge than he had ever intended it to be. A glutton for punishment, you take his hand under the table and slip it under your skirt, guiding his fingers to the wet slick seeping through your new panties and he lets out a small sigh. You bite your lip at the thought of what he’d do to you if you were at home, and Kuroo noticed this too. He saw you were lost in thought so he used it as the perfect opportunity to change the rhythm of the vibrator. Still on level four, the tempo of the vibrations shifted as he moved through the three options the device had. As he stumbled on the third, a wave of pleasure ran through your body and you couldn’t hold back as a whimper escaped your swollen lips. 

Luckily the group was getting a little rowdy since the alumni at the end of the table were already drunk. This time you barely managed to hold yourself back, but the increasing swarm of pleasure rising through you was pushing you dangerously close to your climax. You shot your boyfriend another expression, warning him you’re almost at your limit, but he just smiled at you knowing exactly what you meant.

Due to all the pulses your throbbing clit is receiving, it’s almost impossible to eat anything now. You’re trying your best to avoid suspicion, but every time you have a piece of food up to your mouth, he zaps you and your hand shakes. You could handle everything else, but not being able to eat was frustrating you more than words could describe. You were going to need a lot of energy to keep up with him tonight and he wasn’t providing you with any sustenance. 

Looking up, you see the teammate sitting across from you staring at your boyfriend. The setter glanced at Kuroo and back in your direction before averting his attention back to another conversation. “Did he notice something he shouldn’t have?” you wonder, but quickly dismissing the question as your folds begin throbbing from the intensity of the vibrator on your clit.

You took a sip of your water, draining your cup, trying to avoid eye contact with the boys. Kuroo hasn’t experimented with the remote while you were drinking thus far so you thought of it as your safe haven when you need to take a brief break. However, you’re now completely out of water and have to ask for more.

“Excuse me, could someone pass me more- ahh!” you yelped. Everyone was looking in your direction now, not only the group you came in with, but people seated at nearby tables as well. Your head ran completely blank as the embarrassment took over. You feel like everyone knew your dirty little secret of how your boyfriend was viciously toying with you in public, even in front of his respected elders. 

The setter who was staring at you earlier broke the silence. “Sorry, y/n. I didn’t mean to kick you.” You were startled by the sudden apology, especially because you were both aware he didn’t touch you.

“That’s okay, Kenma. I was just surprised, that’s all,” you explain. Everyone calmed down after they heard his apology, but it only makes your heart beat faster. You turn to Kuroo and notice him staring down at his phone, typing away at something. You sneak a glance and see messages to Kenma. 

“Do you know?”

“Do I know that you’re messing around with your girlfriend at a team dinner? Yeah, I know.”

“How did you figure it out? You’ve been single for as long as I’ve known you.”

“I’m single, not blind. Just go easy on her. If Coach finds out what’s going on, you’ll be doing diving drills as punishment.”

“The only punishment I’m focused on is hers.”

After he sends that final text, he puts his phone away and suddenly, the most powerful surge of vibrations you’ve felt this whole night came rushing to your core, forcing you to grip the table and bite down on your lip hard to suppress the moans attempting to escape from your tightly locked lips. You grip your boyfriend’s thigh with the other hand and shoot him a look that says everything he needed to know. You were about to cum right in the middle of the restaurant.

Knowing this, Kuroo didn’t dare change the level and interrupt the waves of pleasure being released through your lower half. Instead he leaned in to whisper in your ear words that made you blush.

“Since you like an audience so much and he already knows your little secret, I want you to look at Kenma when you cum for me.” 

You look up at your boyfriend smirking as he nods his head in the direction of Kenma who was already staring at you. His gaze was different than when you first locked eyes after he had protected you from getting caught. Instead, his eyes are piercing as if to undress you with his eyes. He knows exactly what’s happening to you and for some reason, you find it unbelievably exciting. You bite your lip and ogle his movements, knowing he’s trying hopelessly to conceal his hardening length underneath his sweatpants.

“Do you see what you’re doing to him, y/n? I can only imagine how fucking sexy you’d look taking him in your mouth,” he hums. 

The idea of your boyfriend watching as another man takes advantage of you has come up in your fantasies before. Maybe if you had won the bet, you would’ve asked for a threesome, but you push that thought to the back of your mind as your orgasm washes over you. You grip Kuroo’s leg hard, feeling like you were about to crush his bones. Obeying his orders, you look directly into Kenma’s eyes as you struggle to prevent your face from contorting and giving up your secret to the rest of the table. Kenma bites his lips as he gets drunk off the expressions you’re giving him. He’s unable to pull his eyes away from you and his arousal increases steadily. You see his hands move over his crotch, slightly palming himself.

You lean over to Kuroo and without taking your eyes off his best friend, you whisper, “Seems to me like he’s being punished just as much as I am. You won’t allow him any release?”

‘I know you like an audience, baby, but you’re mine and only mine. He can look and dream all he wants, but can’t touch,” he whispers back at you. For challenging him, he finally increases the device to its highest level. An overwhelming flash of white comes to your vision as you’re now shaking uncontrollably. His firm hand grips your thigh, steadying you to prevent speculation in your final moments. Kenma watches you closely as his deep lust washes over him and he’s forced to quickly announce his departure to the restroom, obvious to the pair of you that he needs to finish himself off in private.

As you ride the wave of pleasure until completion, you’re left feeling filthy in your chair. Heaving and out of breath, you look at your proud boyfriend and mutter the words he’s been waiting to hear.

“We need to go home. Now,” you say quietly, yet stern, the fire of your lust still ablaze in your eyes.

Smirking at you and putting his hand on your leg once more, he rubs his fingertips on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your dripping entrance. His eyes drift to his teammates as he speaks, “Coach, if it’s okay I think I should take y/n home now before it gets too late.” His hands squeeze your thigh slightly, letting you know he hasn’t stopped paying attention to your needs. 

“Rest well tonight so you’re prepared for the games tomorrow. The competition will only be getting harder from here on out, okay? Take her home safely,” Coach Nekomata replies.

Standing up to leave, you smile at the team as you try to cover yourself up as much as possible, trying to keep yourself from getting caught when you’ve already gotten this far. Your slick has already seeped through your panties and coated your thighs in sweet juices so you try keeping your legs closed as much as possible. 

“Thank you, Coach. We’ll be leaving now.” Your boyfriend says his goodbyes for the night and walks behind you out the door. 

---

You walk out the front door of the restaurant and no sooner does Kuroo have his hands on your waist. Smiling at his touch, you turn around and look up at your boyfriend giving you a pleased grin.

“You did so well in there, princess. Although I’m going to discipline you for being such a brat,” he leans down pressing his lips to your ear. “Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to fuck you right then and there, for everyone to see that you’re mine?”

You bite your lip upon hearing his words, knowing you were able to offer a little torture to him as well made you lean against him, your body pressed against his. A sigh falls from his lips and he starts walking forward slowly, letting you know he was ready to start walking again. On your way to the bus stop, you can’t help but mention a thought you had while in the restaurant. 

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course you can, dummy. What’s on your mind?”

“Would you ever be interested in a threesome?” you ask quietly, turning your head from him to avoid letting him see how bashful that thought made you.

“Hm, I’m not sure. I never seriously considered it because I like having you all to myself, but maybe that’s something we can try. Seeing how wet you got when Kenma watched you was really hot,” he explains.

You smile slightly looking down at your footsteps in line with your boyfriends. Worried that the question would make things awkward for a moment, a swarm of relief fills your troubled mind. Kuroo had always been ready to try new things, especially if you mentioned you wanted to try it first, but this felt different. As adventurous as he is, he is also very protective of you. You thought he might get jealous and neglect the question entirely, but you were happy he’s even considering it. Suddenly all your worries fade away, not sure why you even had them in the first place with a boyfriend as amazing as him. 

“Who would you want to join us?” you ask, the question sounding very light as your tone shifts.

“How could you ask me that?” he jokes. “You’re the one who’d be getting railed by them.”

“What about Kenma?”

“No, absolutely not. I think his heart would combust from the excitement of the situation, baby.”

You both laugh, joking together about fantasies you may act on one day. Talking to your boyfriend like this was so comforting, knowing you could confide in him about anything, but it also really turned you on. Hearing all of his kinks and fantasies spilling from his lips only makes you want to fulfill those dreams for him. You know he’d do anything to please you and acting on your own fantasies brings him immense amount of pleasure. As long as he can make you cum, he’s game for anything you desire.

---

On the bus ride home, you rest your head on his shoulder. There weren’t many people around so you didn’t feel the need to be as careful when initiating skinship. You were seated in the back corner, far from the gazes of other passengers who chose to stand in the front. Feeling your touch, he kisses your forehead before resting his cheek on the top of your head. Enjoying the feeling of his warmth, you close your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in thoughts of your lover. He wasn’t a perfect man by any means, but you knew he’d always try his best to take care of you and make you happy. You were lucky to have found a man who is not only your lover, but your best friend as well. The time you’ve spent by his side made you realize that he was the only one you could ever call yours. No one else could compare to the love you held in every corner of your heart for him.

“Baby,” you call.

“Hm?” Kuroo lifts up his head to look at you as you do the same.

“How did I get so lucky to have you?”

A smile creeps onto his face as he chuckles at your question. “You know, I still get butterflies when I look at you? Every morning I wake up with you by my side and I wonder what I did to deserve this life I’ve been given.”

“I love you so much, Kuroo Tetsurou,” you say, smiling as you stare into his hazel eyes.

“I love you too, chibi-chan,” he said, smiling back at you. He leaned in and kissed your cheek, but instead of pulling away, he leaned in close to your ear and whispered. “I can’t wait to show you how much I love you when I make you see stars tonight.”

“Oh my god,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Go to horny jail, you perv!” You can’t help but laugh as you swat your boyfriend’s toned thigh.

Both of you spend the ride home laughing and joking with each other. You listened as he shared stories about his teammates and he listened to your stories about Karasuno that you heard from Kiyoko and Yachi, your best friends. Nearby passengers gaze at the pair of you with jealous eyes, unbeknownst to you, as they admire your relationship. An old woman seated a few rows ahead has been listening to you banter and enjoy each others’ company as she stares out the window, watching the city lights pass her by. “Oh, young love. What I wouldn’t give to remember that feeling again,” she thinks to herself as she smiles. 

---

As you finally arrive at your shared apartment, you both enter and shut the door behind you, kicking off your shoes. Suddenly you’re swept off your feet, being held in the arms of Kuroo who is now carrying you bridal style towards your bedroom. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck to secure yourself to him. He turns on the light as he enters the doorway and carefully places you at the edge of the bed, leaning down to kiss you. His lips feel soft against yours, pulling you into a passionate kiss before stepping back. He stands up and makes his way to the candle on your dresser, lighting it before turning off the bedroom light.

He approaches you slowly, “Since we won our matches in straight sets, just as you asked, it’s time for me to claim my reward.” His knee comes between your legs as he leans down on you, forcing you to move backwards on the bed and spread your legs to either side of his body to allow him space to crawl up with you. The warm glow of the candle highlights the outline of his body as if the sun itself kissed his skin and allowed him to possess its radiance. You can’t help but admire his breathtaking features as he hovers over you, and with this he explains the details of his promised reward between soft kisses.

“I want to take my time with you,” he finally says, peppering kisses on your jawline. “I want you to feel my desire for you raging through me.” His kisses move down your neck slowly. “I want to make love to you,” he admits before his kisses become harder. “And I want you to be a good girl for me.” He sucks carefully on your neck as you close your eyes, enjoying every honey-drenched word uttered from your boyfriend’s mouth. Your hand creeps up the back of Kuroo’s neck as you run your fingers through his raven hair. An airy moan escapes your lips when he bites at your neck, leaving a bruise. 

He leans up and looks in your eyes with a serious, yet sultry expression plastered on his face. “Do you think you can do that for me, kitten?” The corner of his lips pulls up into a smirk that has you questioning what awaits you, but as promised, you must comply.

“Of course, master. Anything for you,” you say as sweetly as you can muster. You can see the glimmer in his eyes at the name you unexpectedly called him. “If you’re going to have full control over me, then master is a fitting title for you, am I wrong?” you ask.

Kuroo bites his lip as he processes your words, his eyes veering down to examine your body sprawled out underneath him. He notices the dark hickey he’s already painted on your neck and he smiles, admiring his work. Your shirt lays flush against your skin, accentuating your curves, begging for attention as it strains against your chest. Those red panties he bought for you, still drenched in your own cum, peek out from the hem of your skirt. 

His hand reaches down to caress your inner thigh, moving closer to your heat. “You’re so sexy,” he whispers as his other hand pushes up your skirt to get a better look at the mess you made for him earlier in the restaurant. His fingers press against your clothed slit and he groans at the feeling. “Fuck, chibi-chan, you’re still so wet for me. I can’t wait to eat you,” he growls. Removing his finger from your panties, he lifts you up and pulls them off of you. You scoot backwards on the bed to give him more space, which he wastes no time filling. He lays down in front of you and spreads your legs with both hands. 

Suddenly you feel his soft lips on your thigh, kissing your supple skin, and you twitch slightly at the chills it sends through your spine. His lips attack your skin rougher, allowing his teeth to slip through and nibble at your delicate thigh. Your back arches and you whimper, feeling a tinge of both pain and pleasure. Kuroo smiles at your reaction and rewards you with a gentle kiss over the abused area before moving to the other side. The kisses on your opposite thigh immediately trail directly to your bare core, eventually making their way to your throbbing bud. All of the overstimulation you experienced at the restaurant made you sensitive, forcing you to overreact at the slightest touch. You gripped the sheets next to you as he kitten-licked your clit gently and you moaned. His eyes peered up at you, not wanting to miss a single move you made, and you watched them darken as you held eye contact when he began sucking on the little bundle of nerves he’d already set on fire.

“Fuckk, Tetsu, that feels so good,” you whimper, your brows furrowed together at the intense movements of your boyfriend's tongue. The fist firmly gripping the sheets found its way to the black hair falling messily over Kuroo’s eye to push his hair back for a better view of his face as he ate you out. His tongue rolled over your folds sloppily, letting his saliva mix with your juices to keep you drenched. He could feel you clenching around nothing as his tongue danced along your slit. 

You throw your head back against the bed as you feel the pad of his thumb beginning to gently rub against your throbbing clit. Kuroo enjoys the lewd moans he’s pulling from your swollen lips as he picks up the pace of his thumb, allowing his tongue to slip inside of you. Unable to control yourself, your body convulses under his touch, making you grind against his mouth. You could feel yourself getting ready to come undone all over again and try your best to look Kuroo in the eyes when you cum all over his tongue. He notices you staring and pulls his mouth away, only to add two fingers inside of you, curling upwards to hit your sweet spot.

“That’s right, kitten. Watch me while I destroy you,” he groans deeply. The tone of his voice taunts you, challenging you to defy him. His fingers piston in and out of you at a cruel pace, carefully positioned to continue abusing the same spot. Your hands come down on either side of you to curl the sheets into your fist as you squirm underneath his grip, your orgasm quickly approaching. Even the noises flowing from your mouth couldn’t be controlled anymore, the once cute sounds becoming cries for release of an animalistic nature. 

“I can feel your needy pussy gripping my fingers,” he hums. “Cum for me, baby.”

With those words, your head pushed down against the bed and your eyes shut tight as you finally released all the tension he’d built up inside of you. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you attempted to catch your breath and you looked down to see his face and arm dripping wet. You hadn’t even noticed you had squirted, but Kuroo looked up at you with a devilish grin as his tongue peaked out to lick his lips.

“Such a good girl for me. Now, open,” he orders as he rests his fingers on your lips. You happily oblige and stare deeply into his eyes, sitting up as you suck your juices off his fingers. He uses his other hand to pick up the hem of his shirt and dry his face, wipe your juices off his face lazily as he watches you. Your hands take advantage of his newly revealed torso as they slide up his toned abdomen, pushing up his shirt even more. He pulls his shirt off for you in one swift motion while you get up on your knees and pull him into your lips. The kiss is passionate and slightly rough, your lips fighting for more attention. He bites your lip and tugs on it, allowing you a moment to break away from his lips and trail your own down his neck. 

He groans slightly at the unexplored area suddenly being given attention, your tongue dragging a line up his neck before you suck on it. Your kiss is gentle, unable to leave marks on him wherever his uniform doesn’t cover, so you move lower to his chest. His toned chest is left with a trail of wet kisses as you go lower, your hands reaching up to find the waistband of his pants. You palm his hardening cock over his sweats and he groans, admiring how hot you look worshipping his body in the way you know he loves. Your kisses pepper over his happy trail before you pull his pants down just enough for his large cock to spring free from the constricting grip. You’re down on your hands and knees in front of him, legs spread wide with your ass in the air, your skirt lifted enough to reveal your ass. He groans at the sight as you take his length into your hands and begin to stroke him. 

“Any special requests, master? It’s my turn to please you.” Your flirtatious, bratty tone makes him want to put you in your place, teach you who exactly is in control. 

“Suck.”

You stick out your tongue and run it from the base to the tip before swirling your tongue around it. You kissed it gently, moving your lips to the side of his shaft. His hand reaches down and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and forcing you to look up at him. “I said suck. Now,” he threatens. The sheer dominance in his tone pooled wetness at your core again as you obeyed. You spit on his shaft and rubbed it in with your hand before wrapping your lips around the tip. You bobbed your head down slowly, trying to coat every inch with your spit. Each time you pulled your head back as you bobbed, you rolled your tongue out to lick the underneath of his shaft and you watched as his head lolled back. 

As his cock got wetter, your mouth got sloppier, bobbing your head quickly with your cheeks hollowed. His groans slipping through his mouth were nothing short of sinful and you loved hearing the reaction you earned from him. He gripped your hair in his fist, gently forcing you to take more of him and fucking your throat. You tried to look up at him as the tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall from the harsh movements of his hips. He allowed you to pull your head away as you gasped for air and smiled up at him with your tongue out, stroking his length with your small hands. He looked down at you in awe, the little slut he made for himself smiled so pretty for him after being face fucked. He couldn’t have asked for anything more.

He pulled you up and took off your shirt before gently laying you back on the bed. Leaning down, he peppered kisses over your left tit while his hand came up and squeezed the other. His tongue flicked around your nipple before sucking and pulling at it. You sighed and ran your hand through his hair as he continued playing with your tits. He removed his lips from your left and moved onto the right, giving it the same attention with his mouth. Your back arched into him as he sucked on your nipple, rutting against him to find more friction on your aching core. As much as you loved the attention he was giving your chest, your aching hole clenching around nothing yearned for it more. He kissed down the valley of your breasts, leaving hickeys in his wake before sitting up and hovering over you. He wiped his thumb across your lips, hooking it in your mouth as he positioned himself over you again. “What do you want me to do to you? I want to hear you say it.” You try to respond, but his thumb makes it hard for the words to come out of your mouth, your reply mumbled. He removes his thumb and grips your face instead. 

“I want you to fuck me, Tetsu.”

He smirks and groans, “beg for it, kitten.” He lines up his aching cock to your pussy, slowly rubbing the tip against your folds.

“Please fuck me. I need to feel you inside me and I want you to be rough. Please, master. I need it.” Those vulgar words slipped from your pretty mouth as he thrust into you, bottoming out all at once. You gasped at the new feeling as you clenched around him, your back arching off the bed as you searched to hold onto something. You reached for his arm and you squeezed it as he starts to fuck you to a rhythm, not letting you adjust to his size.

His hips thrust into you hard, shaking your whole body from the force of it. He pushes your legs down towards your chest and leans himself on top of you. The angle he’s pressing into you makes you clench down around him as he deeply thrusts directly at your sweet spot. 

“Shit, yes, please fuck me just like that,” you whimper, the intense pleasure pooling in your stomach. Hearing you beg for it only made him thrust harder into you, loving the way you sounded when you were so needy for him. You quickly felt your third orgasm of the night threatening to escape you as he mercilessly pounded into you, grazing your cervix with every pump. You grabbed his arms with both of your hands, squeezing them while you stared into his darkening eyes.

He watched every quirk your face made as it contorted with pleasure, adoring how beautiful you looked being fucked out. His hand came up to your neck and squeezed the sides of your throat gently, just barely cutting off your air flow. Your mouth hung agape as you stared up at him, brows furrowed as you focused on the sensation flowing through your body. Your moans became shrill as your orgasm washed over you, squirting all over your sheets and Kuroo’s torso. Your juices dripped down him deliciously and you felt it dripping down your thighs as well.

Kuroo looked down at the pleasant sight with a devilish grin, pulling out of you as you caught your breath. “You’re so wet for me tonight, babe. Now turn around so we can cum together this time.” Getting up on your hands and knees proved slightly more difficult than you had anticipated. Your legs already feel shaky from the intense position he’d kept you in and you can hear him chuckle as he helps you position yourself in front of him, satisfied with his work. He pulls your skirt off, finally leaving you completely bare, and he looks down at you, biting his lip. You can feel him lining the tip up to your entrance again, but he pushes it in very slowly and stops when just the tip is in.

“Be a good girl and bounce on it.”

You quickly follow orders as you push your ass back on him until every inch is inside. His groan echoes in the room behind you as you start grinding yourself on his cock. There’s something about the feeling of using him to get yourself off that makes you feel so dirty and both of you love that sensation. You bounce back faster, slamming yourself against his hips and moan for him. Before you can continue, Kuroo’s hand lands on your lower back and pushes you down against the bed before taking control. He pistons his hips into you as he stuffs you full, your head now pushed against the pillow. His hand comes down hard on your ass, spanking you a few times in a row, leaving your ass red and tender.

The sensations you’re experiencing all at once become overwhelming, but he’s making you feel so good and you don’t want it to stop. You match his pace and continue bouncing back on him slightly in an attempt to keep your needy hole filled with him. He bites his lip as his grunts become more staggered, approaching his end. He leans down and reaches his fingers around you to rub your throbbing clit. Your body immediately becomes limp at the touch of his finger as you scream. The sensitive bud feels as if it had burst into flames all over again.

“Where do you want my cum?” he asks breathlessly. You can tell he’s dangerously close to his release, but so are you with the way he’s toying with you. 

“Inside me! Fill me up, master!”

He groans deeply, “Fuck, such a good slut for me.” With a few more thrusts, his pace becomes faster and uncontrolled. In a final thrust, he paints your insides white and you cum around him as he slowly thrusts into you to ride out your highs. A symphony of heavy breathing fills the room accompanied by the sight of sweaty luster on your skin. You fall down completely on the sheets and try to rest your abused body as you feel him fall on the bed beside you, trying to catch his breath.

“Did you get what you wanted, Tetsu? The prize you were after?” you questioned, already knowing the answer.

Kuroo curled up next to you and pulled you close, cuddling you into him. “I always want to make love to you,” he says, kissing your forehead. “You’re so beautiful and sexy like this.” His hand gently comes down to your ass, rubbing circles over the red marks he made earlier from spanking you. You always loved his gentle after care, especially since he loved being rough with you. He knew you needed to be pampered a bit to compensate for his power, even more so on nights he doesn’t hold back.

“Can we lay here for a minute before we go get cleaned up? Frankly, I don’t think I can move,” you say laughing, knowing that you were only half joking. He chuckles, looking down at your legs proudly.

“Don’t worry, chibi-chan. Just lay here and I’ll get you all cleaned up, okay?” He kisses your forehead again before walking to the bathroom to get a warm, wet towel. He comes back to you and asks you to spread your legs for him, which you obey. He smirks as he sees his seed dripping from your aching pussy before wiping away both of your juices. His washes you gently as you try getting your energy back. You sit up in bed and grab the cloth out of his hand.

“It’s okay, Tetsu. Let’s go get a shower. We need to change the sheets so I have to get up anyway,” you gesture to the large wet spot in the middle of the bed from your cum. He helps you off the bed and walks with you to the shower.

“Start showering without me. I’ll prepare the bed for us before joining you.”

You nod and get in the shower, cleansing yourself of the remnants of the intimate act you shared with your partner. You reminisced over the time you spent together as a couple, your love never wavering. How could it when you had such an amazing boyfriend? He’s stayed consistent through thick and thin, always taking care of you, as if the honeymoon phase was forever. You smiled to yourself thinking about how he used his opportunity to have you in whichever way he wanted to make love to you, as you often do. Although the vibrator was a sneaky little trick, you didn’t put it past him since you’ve tried many scandalous things over the years to add some spice into your sex lives. Reminding yourself of just how lucky you were was something you did daily, always making sure to remind Kuroo as well that you were grateful for him. Your relationship was healthy and fun. It was the kind of love that made everyone around you jealous as they patiently waited for their special someone to arrive. 

Kuroo joined you in the shower after cleaning the bed and putting on new sheets. You both washed each other, admiring the sudsy curves on each other’s bodies. The warm water rinsed the soap off your bodies and you dried up before hopping into bed. You spent the night wrapped up in each other as you cuddled up to sleep, sharing the warmth of your blanket. 

---

The next morning you woke up earlier than Kuroo who was sound asleep beside you. “He must be tired from all the energy he used up yesterday,” you thought to yourself. You decided it was your turn to make him a big breakfast. Being well fed and energetic would surely aid in his upcoming matches and Coach Nekomata would kill him if he was ill-prepared. Kuroo made his way into the kitchen before you had even finished cooking, so he helped you set the table. After eating, you both got dressed and left together for the gym.

“How’s your condition?” you ask, your boyfriend seeming more lively.

“I feel good! Your cooking certainly helped me wake up. Although you know I’m going to win today regardless,” he winks. 

“Ah, yes. My big, bad boyfriend is gonna tear up the court!” you joke sarcastically. You both laugh and banter as you enter the gym and meet up with the rest of the team. They greet you and Kuroo before he retreats to change into his uniform, leaving you alone with the boys. You can feel their eyes on you, which was strange, especially since you’ve grown so comfortable with them. What could they possibly be staring at? Sudden realization flooded your mind that your neck was covered in hickeys. You pulled your hair down to cover your neck, avoiding eye contact with the team and trying to feign innocence. A few laughs burst through the silence, their owners being Lev and Yaku.

“Hey, what are those?” Lev teases. “Is that why you and Kuroo left dinner early last night?”

“Y/N, I thought you were more innocent than that,” Yaku pouts, looking flustered.

Your face flushed pink, attempting even more obviously to hide them now that they’ve noticed. The commotion caused the rest of the team to look over, curious as to what was going on. Your eyes panned over the familiar faces, but stopped as you landed on one face in particular who was staring at you, his gaze different from the rest. Kenma. The rosy flush raged into a full tomato red at the hungry eyes of your boyfriend’s best friend who was gazing upon your neck.

“I can’t believe you left without me,” he whispers under his breath.

Kuroo approaches the team, fully changed and ready for practice, “What’d I miss?” The boys disperse except for Kenma who was still staring a hole into you. Kuroo caught on to what was happening after seeing your neck and walked over towards his best friend. Before completely passing him, he stops and mutters something to him loud enough for only you and Kenma to hear.

“You’re lucky my girl likes you. Maybe next time I’ll share.”

[oneyeartoparty]

The Brothers react to an MC revealing they have a chronic illness

This is based off of my own experiences with my chronic illness. I hope it brings you all joy. Have an awesome day!

Lucifer

Already knows about your chronic illness because it was in the dossier he received on you for the exchange program.

At first, he checks in on you and makes sure you have everything you need. He asks you to update him when you need anything resupplied and will ensure you have access to any medical services you may need.

When you start to grow closer, he becomes far more attentive. His check-ins focus much more on how you’re doing and if he can help in any way more than just a checklist he got from Diavolo. He asks many questions and gets to know how your illness affects you and how he can best help.

If you ever need to go to the doctor, he’ll offer to accompany you, and will shift around his schedule so that he’s available, no matter how late notice it is. If you ask he’ll come to see the doctor with you, and if not, he’ll wait in the waiting room until your done. He’ll also takes you for a special treat after every appointment, or have a present waiting for you when you both arrive back at the House of Lamentation.

If there has been some bad news or you’re having a bad day, he’ll lavish you with love and attention until you feel better. He buys numerous different teas for you to try and makes you your preferred flavours when you’re unwell.

It’s not an uncommon sight for you to wake up to Lucifer doing his work in your room so he can watch over you. Doing this helps keep him reassured your ok and that someone is there if you need help.

Mammon

Lucifer told him about your chronic illness when he was assigned to look after you. He didn’t consider it at first; after all, he didn’t want to be looking after you in the first place.

This quickly changes as he becomes attached to you. If anyone will keep an eye on you and make sure you’re doing ok, it’ll be him. After all, he is your first, and no one can look after his human better than him.

He asks you about your chronic illness and how it affects you. He wants to learn as much as possible so he can always be there to help.

If you’re having a bad day, he turns into a mother hen. He watches over you the entire day, getting you anything you need (and a few things he thinks you’ll need or will make you feel better).

He also grows concerned when you aren’t doing the best, but he tries to hide it because he doesn’t want to upset you. But he sometimes needs cuddles, so he’ll cuddle up to you with the excuse of doing it to make you feel better. If you can’t do cuddles, he’ll stroke the top of your head or sit as close as he can to you and tell you fun stories or discuss the latest happenings in the Devildom.

He set up a small space in your room for his things so he can sleep in your room if you need someone there. He has a similar area for you in his room, should you need to or want to stay the night.

Leviathan

When you tell Levi, it doesn’t change his opinion of you at all. You’ve been there for him through so much, and he will be there for you no matter what. He knows he’s not the best with words; he gets nervous and struggles to get out what he wants to say. So, he decides to show you how much he cares with actions.

He does a lot of research online about your chronic illness. He talks to those suffering from the same illness and learns how to help you when you need it.

You always find little things from Levi. A note with a joke from an anime he’s been watching, a video game character plushie tucked into your bed for you to snuggle with, or something from Akuzon you’ve talked about buying. No matter how bad things get, Levi will find a way to cheer you up.

On your bad days, he moves into your room, or have you move into his. That way he’s there if you need him and he can spend time with you playing games, watching anime or simply laying together on your phones.

He sets up a gaming and entertainment space in your room for you. It has everything the two of you will need, from the latest gaming consoles to a DVD player so you can watch that super limited version of I was a wizard who accidentally turned myself into a goose, and now I have to save the kingdom by stealing a bell from the top of the evil queen’s castle that was only released on DVD.

He’ll also go to your room so you can do online classes together should you need to stay at the House of Lamentation.  Of course, this often leads to an impromptu gaming session or anime marathon rather than any work getting done, but the scolding from Lucifer is well worth it.

Satan

Satan immediately begins research into your chronic illness once you tell him. To him, knowledge is power, and knowing everything he can about your chronic illness is the best way to be there for you should you need him.

He’ll get as many books and papers as he can on your condition and keep himself up-to-date with the latest research. He keeps you updated on any developments, so you’re well informed about your condition.

Also keeps track of how your doing and makes a note of anything that arises. You joke that he’s your demon doctor with how much he knows about your illness.

He’ll smuggle in cats into the House of Lamentation to cheer you up. He secretly constructs a series of ramps up the side of the House leading to your room, so the cats have safe and easy access whenever you need some comfort. This leads to him spending a lot more time in your room with you and the ever-increasing number of cats.

If you’re having a bad day, he comes to your room with a stack of books and lets you pick one for him to read to you. He’ll keep a mental note of your favourites and bring similar books in the future. If you’re already reading something, he’ll read that for you instead.

To help you sleep, he’ll hum his favourite songs to you. He has an incredibly soothing hum that can relax and put anyone to sleep, whether human, cat or demon. If you’re ok with it, he’ll softly stroke the top of your head or the side of your arm as he hums.

If you can’t go to RAD, he’ll take notes for all the classes you miss and get any homework that’s handed out. Of course, Satan will be there to help you with any schoolwork you struggle with.

Asmodeus

When you first tell him, Asmo is shocked. You’ve always been so confident and strong around them and knowing you’ve been dealing with a chronic illness this whole time on top of everything that’s happened in the Devildom so far is a surprise

He respects and adores you even more now, and is incredibly grateful for all you’ve done for them, despite your struggles.

He reassures you’ll always be beautiful to him, no matter what. He also promises to go all out to show you how much he cares.

Can’t wear certain types of clothing or need special clothes made? No problem! He’ll make whatever you need. It’ll be made from the highest quality material and be in the latest style. He loves watching you try on everything he makes and adjusts it based on your feedback.

He has no issues cancelling a night out if you need him. There is no party or event in all the three realms more important to him than being there for you.

If you’re not doing well, Asmo will be ready to pamper you with a spa day. He’ll prepare a bath surrounded by candles and with your favourite scents in the water. With your permission, he’ll wash your hair with your favourite products, all while telling you about his latest Devildom gossip, his latest work at Majolish or his next photoshoot.

After the bath, its time for every treatment he can think of. A facial, manicure, pedicure and body massage are all on the table. He understands if you can’t or aren’t able to do certain treatments. He’ll find a way to show you how much he adores you, even if that’s just showering you with compliments.

Beelzebub

Beel is the most anxious of the brothers. He knows you’re not as strong as them, and knowing you have a chronic illness hammers that fact down for him.

You’re important to him, and he doesn’t like that you’re not always 100%. He wants to protect you and keep you safe but feels like he can’t. He struggles with this feeling at first but decides he’ll do his best to be there for you and protect you in every way he can.

If you have a special diet you need to follow or can’t eat certain foods, he’ll create a meal plan for you and make sure that there is enough food there you can eat whenever groceries are done.

He’ll also learn recipes that fit your dietary requirements. He doesn’t know much about cooking, and he struggles to finish without eating the ingredients, but he tries his hardest to make something for you. He ends up bringing in Belphie to help stop him from eating everything.

He does the same with a workout plan. He creates one that fits your needs and pace and stays with you, keeping an eye on you to make sure you’re not overwhelmed and giving you compliments on how well you’re doing.

Beel loves using tickles and hugs to cheer you up. Being engulfed in a massive hug from Beel or getting into a tickle war with him are always known to bring a smile to your face.

Also keeps a closer eye on the other demons. Humans are considered weak already, but because of your chronic illness, they may think you’re much easy target. Beel is there to remind them you have someone watching over you if any demons get any ideas.

Belphegor

He brushes it off as no big deal but is secretly almost as worried as Beel. Once you tell him, you notice him keeping a closer eye on you, especially when you’re out of the House of Lamentation. If you’re illness starts affecting you, Belphie will be by your side to check on you.

He slowly asks questions about your illness and its effect on you over time. Often when you settle down to nap, he’ll ask a question or two. He never falls asleep while you’re talking, and will be attentive the entire time.

If you need help getting to sleep, Belphie will be there with a quick text. He is open to snuggling you or being snuggled, whatever makes your sleep more peaceful.

He buys and tests a bunch of different blankets, pillows and bedsheets so you can get the best for when you need sleep. He is determined that your rest will be the best it can be.

He also lends you his pillow whenever you need it. This shocks his brothers at first because they know how much Belphie relies on his pillow when the urge to nap arises.

Even if you’ve had a horrible day, your dreams will be wonderful. Really into a new book or manga? You’re now the protagonist and get to explore the world at your leisure with him at your side. Are you missing the human world? Now you’re there, and it looks picture perfect. Whatever dream you want Belphie will meticulously make for you.

Secretly sets up a napping room full of only the comfiest blankets and pillows at RAD so the two of you can skip class and nap if you ever feel the need to rest.

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Together 4: Glass.

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CW: explicit language and content, torture, captivity, wounds, implied sex work, strangulation, choking, suicide (hanging), suicidal thoughts/explicit planning, mouth whump description (bleeding, asphyxiation, choking), breathing, attempted noncon, bruises, beating, conditioning, dehumanization, noncon touching, drugs, alcohol, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, whumpee as caretaker, letmeknowifimissedany

August once asked what they do to me. Mouthed it, like he couldn’t stop himself from forming the words, but didn’t bother voicing it out of horror or just because he knew I couldn’t answer. I wouldn’t fucking know where to begin anyway.

Probably down on my knees.

At this point, our situation boggles my mind even more than when they trained me to be silent. That was logical when you psychoanalyzed it but shit got fucked sideways when August came into the picture. It’s just senseless now, an unending labyrinth of manipulation and control. Double the captives means double the fun. I was lucky to be alone for so long. There were two others before him but never like this. In the grand scheme of things, they’re all mere drops of water in the swimming pool of my time here. It was another woman first, although I never learned her name. She seemed like a Tiffany or a Heather and was really pretty, too but never trusted me. Wouldn’t even look at me, as if I wasn’t just as much of a prisoner as her.

Poor thing was in the wrong place at the wrong time and saw something she shouldn’t have. She didn’t last long at all. Unraveled faster than you can say, “Money’s on the table.” You’d think she’d have a little more grit. I mean you hear stories and can only imagine the shit they put up with in that industry, but it was like something out of an exorcist movie. Crying hysterically, throwing herself at the walls and doors, and trying to strangle the life out of me like I was sitting on a key. They came in and intervened but not before she’d purpled my neck so I could barely breathe. That was the only time they ever took the shock collar off. She spent the next bit catatonic and then one day when they brought me back, she was dangling by her own diamond-studded jeggings from a pipe on the ceiling, toes just a few inches from the ground. Damn slow way to die. They took out the pipe.

I’ve given it a hell of a lot of thought myself. She’d obviously been trying something similar with smacking herself into the concrete walls, but that will only get you a concussion that makes it feel like you’ve gone a few rings deeper into Hell. No, thank you. My choice would be the naked lightbulb on the wall, next to the door. If I shoved it far enough down my throat before it broke, I’m pretty sure I would asphyxiate before they could do anything. The key would be to bleed enough into my bronchial tube and inhale enough shards of glass to shred my lungs a bit. A little internal bleeding down my esophagus wouldn’t hinder the cause but certainly wouldn’t be fatal on its own, never mind the risk of just cutting my tongue and mouth to ribbons if it breaks too early. In that case, I’d be fucked. That’s why Wyatt leaves it there, uncovered, even though other lightbulbs down the hallway have metal cages screwed over them. Tempting me to risk it. He also knows that, now, I’d never leave August. I feel responsible and that’s why he holds my life in his hands. The torture will never stop and August is better off with me to take care of him in whatever way I can, even if it doesn’t even come close to reparation.

—

The next guy was probably mid-thirties and built like a truck. I can’t begin to imagine what he did to wind up here. He didn’t take to captivity well either. Everything they’d put into him, he’d let out onto me. The first time, he was angling to get a sweeter kind of release than just wailing on me. I was pretzeled around one of the legs of my bed frame, while he punched and clawed at me, so hell-bent on not letting go, I was screaming my head off for help despite the collar. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Wyatt doesn’t like anyone to touch me. That went over like a lead balloon. Playing off his proclivity like somehow I had any right to decide not to be raped. Wyatt would have stopped it anyway and I could have saved myself the next few days of my bunkmate beating the living shit out of me undisturbed as long as he left it at just that. As soon as Wyatt decided I’d learned my lesson, or was sick of seeing me limping and bruised, that guy was fish food.

The second bed was empty for a long time after that even though I’m sure there were others. Wyatt has a list a mile-long of people he’d like to get his hands on for one reason or another, but I never saw them. Wyatt would still bring me out to toy with me in his usual ways. The buffoons would bring me out when he wasn’t around for entertainment but they know better than to touch me more than cursory shoves to keep me cooperating and even then, more often with their phones or other inanimate objects, rather than their hands. To them, it was endlessly entertaining to get me high out of my mind and mess with me or make me play Emma Fortyhands until I puked all over myself. I should have known Wyatt wasn’t wasting any time during this plateau of suffering. From what August says, he was here for a handful of days, maybe even two weeks, before they made us roommates. Wyatt just talked to him, drilling him for hours. He had been screening him, looking for the perfect match before binding us together in torment.

They always take me first and bring me straight to Wyatt. He likes to talk to me about what he has planned for August, trying to get a rise out of me. Like I’d be dumb enough to think that any amount of disgust or fear on my part would make a lick of difference for August. If anything, Wyatt would double it just for my reaction. Next, Wyatt makes sure I’ll make it through what he has planned for me without passing out. The humane thing would be to give me a second meal or something but instead, he gives me whatever his henchmen have lying around. An unpredictable twist added to my slow destruction. I’m lucky if it’s an energy shot or some gross drink that tastes like fruit-flavored battery acid and leaves me shaking. More often, it’s “just a bump” of something that makes my heart race and the whole session so unbearable I’m screaming in my head at the top of my lungs until I come down.

One time, he gave me a tab of acid. His favorite kind of experiment, the ultimate demonstration of his success. To no one’s surprise, I’m conditioned enough that I still didn’t speak and followed every instruction. That was, no contest, my worst day on this fucked-sideways merry-go-round. I was tripping so hard. Too slow and too fast at the same time, no distinction between myself and everything around me. Wyatt’s barbaric plan turned into a barbaric fuck-up. A small part of me understood what I had done even before I came down and when I stumbled out, I was met by silence instead of the usual dumb peanut-gallery comments. They threw me into the shower after, like always, but left me there for hours since I was still tripping. I was hysterical by the time they let me out. By some miracle, or just Wyatt perversely delaying the end, he had actually called a real doctor.

—

Today, Wyatt hands me a double shot of whiskey because it’s “cute” to watch me struggle when I’m tipsy. I knock it back in one swallow, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much that frightens me. He finishes getting me ready and then smacks me on the ass to get me moving. Once I’m in the room, he starts feeding me instructions even though I already know what he wants from me today. This way, he’s in control of my every action, like he’s thinking for me, while I just focus on getting air into my lungs, fighting through the alcohol hitting my bloodstream and burning in my empty stomach. I can throw it up in the shower later if I need to. I just need to survive this.

By the time I stumble out, I’m inevitably a mess. Crying, shaking, and covered in sweat, even on the days I get the raw, straight edge experience. One of the baboons walks me to the small concrete room, empty except the industrial-looking shower head in the ceiling above the drain. The controls are on the outside of the room which is how they make sure the water is ice cold and stays on for exactly five minutes. They take the collar off and I get a bar of soap before they lock me in. It used to be orange soap bars that made my skin feel dry even wet. After that, it was green with the same problem but a stronger smell that clung to me all the time, which wasn’t half bad. Lately, it’s a white, rounder bar, that’s distinctly feminine, and leaves my skin soft, which would be concerning if I wasn’t already too balls-deep in my worst nightmare to care.

I used to dance in and out of the freezing shower while I soaped up but now I stay under the whole time. It’s the only thing that makes any damn sense anymore, the one small touch of reality in this shit storm. I stand under the frigid water and then shake and shiver once it’s turned off until the cold becomes a buzz on my skin and in my veins. Depending on the day, I wait for seconds or hours until they toss me a small, scratchy towel and clean clothes. The waiting is part of it. Not because I’m covered in goosebumps, muscles cramping so that I have to curl in on myself for heat, but because of what I know is waiting for me next.

When they finally let me out and lock me into the collar, it’s all I can do not to run back to our basement hole as fast as my legs will carry me to make sure August hasn’t bled out or gone into shock while they kept me from him. It’s all I care about anymore, helping him survive, making him as comfortable as possible. Honestly, it is the least I can do. It’s my fault he’s here at all, kept to be part of a set. Not to mention the heinous torture. If I had known, I would have done my damndest to kill him before it ever even started.

And I would have inhaled that fucking lightbulb immediately after.

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Taglist: @deluxewhump

[kaibacorpintern]

the wound

word count: ~2500

summary: kaiba has some pointed thoughts about yuugi’s recent cooking injury. platonic rivalshipping. post-DSOD

a/n: a woman has too many unfinished one-shots in her google drive so i’m making time to finish them instead of overthinking them (and never finishing them.) yes this is about cooking and yuugi and kaiba and depression. yes i have already written about this. whatever man. enjoy.

++++

Same time as usual. Two in the afternoon, on Saturdays. Same place as usual. The picnic table under the massive oak in the park, two blocks away from the Kame Game Shop and twenty minutes by subway from the station under the Kaiba Corp tower. Seto took the subway mostly out of scientific interest, taking a professional curiosity in the world Atem had wanted to live in, and because Atem had told him to enjoy it. What had he seen here, in the faded orange seats and bright pastel advertisements and the quiet scattering of human-not-Puzzle bodies? What had he felt, as the subway swayed around the curve in the tunnel, unseen in the darkness and known only by its momentum, making everyone sway with it? Hands curled around handrails and books. Fingers on phones. The train burst into daylight. The side of that girl’s head against the glass, watching Domino slide by with an equally glassy look in her eyes. Two layers between her and the city. Missing someone? Or just bored of life? 

He slunk off the subway, unnoticed and unknown, in an immaculate white hoodie and aviators, stainless steel water bottle dangling from one hand. Yuugi was waiting for him at the park entrance, as usual, wearing some kind of fashionable belted dark purple romper, with the usual tote bag full of games hanging from one hand. On the other hand, something unusual: his fingers stuck out from a half-formed mitten of gauze, giving his slender hand a clumsy, snub-nosed silhouette. He was having trouble holding his iced tea, thumb and fingers alligator-clamped around the lid. Someone had drawn a pair of flowers in pink marker across the back of the mitten, a bumper sticker of cheerful admonition: 🌺 BE CAREFUL! 🌺 Not Yuugi’s handwriting. 

“Hey,” Yuugi said. “How’re you doing? You sleeping better?”

Seto pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, over his bangs, crown-like. 

“On and off,” he said, which was true. His nights were now vast, tossing oceans of insomnia between shores of just good-enough sleep. Last night he’d simply given up trying to swim and instead, for the first time in years, read a book for amusement instead of education. Some sci-fi novel Yuugi had mentioned and Seto bought on a lark from the bookstore in the subway station. Most of his amusement came from correcting the bad science in the margins, until he woke up at dawn with his glasses bent and his bed linens blotted like calico cats with black ink. “What happened to your hand?”

“Oh, this?” Yuugi said, lifting his mitten-hand. “So, I was making a ceviche yesterday…”

He told the story as they walked through the park to the oak tree: the protagonist was a ripe avocado, its tough, disingenuous alligator hide concealing a soft, buttery-green flesh. The arc of the conflict: avocado against knife, a natural antagonist. The climax: the knife, ignorant of its own bluntness and made arrogant by the shine of its own steel, slid off its trajectory like a failing rocket and plunged at speed through plant skin and plant flesh straight into human skin and human flesh. The resolution: two identical cuts, a half-opened avocado and a half-opened hand. Man versus fruit. 

"There was so much blood Otogi almost fainted," Yuugi said, thumping the tote bag onto the wooden table and straddling the bench sideways. "So we went to the ER and they stitched me up, and then when we got back home I finished making the ceviche. What game? You pick."

"Hive," Seto said. He couldn’t stop looking at his bandaged hand. It drew his attention like a glitch on a screen, an inescapable aberration. “Does it bother you?”

“I mean, it hurts, but whatever, you know?” Yuugi said, digging into his tote bag for the drawstring bag of wooden tokens. He spilled them onto the table in a clattering cascade of wood against wood. They rapidly sorted them out. “It’s not my first cooking accident.”

Seto raised his eyebrows. It was a testament to the amount of time they’d been spending together lately - every Saturday afternoon for a handful of hours, until he made some excuse to leave, and Yuugi accepted it not because he was gullible but because he knew Seto had a battery and it ran low - that he didn’t even need to ask a question, and Yuugi simply provided an answer, with examples.

“So, here, I was frying onion rings for Jounouchi, and I splattered hot oil all over my arm,” Yuugi said, lifting his hand and pointing out a haphazard constellation of white scars over his forearm. “Then here - I was baking cookies for Shizuka’s birthday and touched the tray fresh out of the oven with my bare hand, like a moron, I dueled Jounouchi after and drawing my cards was like, ow - ” he waggled his fingertips - “and this one is another burn - ” a long white ink-stroke across his wrist - “from when I was making ramen for Anzu, ‘cause she was home from New York. And this one - ”

More interesting than how and what were who. This burn for Honda’s birthday barbecue, that cut for Otogi’s game night. A violent kiss between blade and fingers behind a frothy veil of soapy water, cleaning up after a movie night. Another spray of oil splatters, frying tempura for his mother. A lot of meals for her, his grandfather, Jounouchi. Every scar Yuugi showed him had a name attached, almost all of them below the elbows, as though collected there for easy reference. Seto frowned as Yuugi's fingers flew over this map of friendships and family, their routes landmarked by midnight breakfasts, lazy brunches, beautifully-wrapped bento boxes. Something about it tasted sour to him, his tongue held tight and bitten between his teeth. All of his own scars had only one name.

“You probably think I’m a klutz,” Yuugi said, with a sheepish smile, sliding one of the wooden tokens into place around their hive. 

“I told you to stop doing that,” Seto said briskly. “I’m not some dumpster for all your insecurities. You think you’re a klutz. You have no idea what I think.”

“I - ” Yuugi started, and huffed, with another smile, his chosen defense against causing offense. “Sorry, force of habit - ”

“Forget it. You don’t ever cook for yourself?”

“Duh. Of course I do. And I eat what I make with everyone else. It’s not like I make a pizza for all my friends and just sit there watching them while they eat it,” Yuugi said. “But I like cooking for people. I love... nourishing them. Knowing they’re not going to go to bed hungry or anything, and I can make something for them that makes them feel good.”

Seto tapped a wooden token on the table, under the guise of thinking about the game but really thinking about the kind of friends Yuugi made, and how he made them. Jounouchi. Honda. Atem. Himself.

“Did you ever cook for Atem?” he said, because he couldn’t help it, and braced against the soft look that came his way, with a default smile, a pre-emptive look, I'm fine. this didn’t hurt me smile.

“Yeah,” Yuugi said. “I did.”

Like what? Did he like it? Did he help cook or did he just watch? Just the two of you or with everyone else? Tell me. What did you nourish him with? What do you think he’s eating now? I ate pomegranates when I was there. Bread and honey and figs and garlic and beer. Nothing I ate makes me spend six months with the living and six months with the dead so instead I trade off day and night. Sometimes I leave for a few minutes, mid-afternoon, and I can hear my own name clattering through me as Mokuba calls me back. Seto kept all these comments to himself. There was only so greedy he could get with Yuugi’s grief; only so much he could share of his own.

He slid his wooden token into place around the honeycomb of pieces. Yuugi swiftly countered. Seto lapsed back into thought.

Yuugi took a quiet slurp of his iced tea, gave it a shake, rattling the ice until it settled, and took another, watching ducks paddle into the reeds at the edge of the pond and paddle out, a portrait of calm patience. It had taken him some time to get comfortable with Seto’s long silences. In concession, Seto made the effort to shorten them.

It was the kind of day where stepping into the shade made a difference. The air was darker and cooler under the trees and the flowering bushes that lined the park paths, while the rest of the earth baked in a cloudless dry heat. Seto made his move and pushed the sleeves of his sweatshirt up to his elbows.

“How about I cook for you sometime?” Yuugi said brightly, nudging another wooden token against the others with a single fingertip. 

Seto scowled, not at the suggestion but at the way his thoughts splintered apart, like two halves of a wooden log split by an axe. He had no doubt Yuugi would pull out the stops for him, slave and sweat for hours over some seventeen-course feast of modern art finger foods. Or maybe something cozy that made him feel like he was just nineteen instead of nineteen and exhausted. Whatever it was, Yuugi would put in the effort. But.

“No,” he said, and made sure to clarify this refusal before the clouds finished gathering over Yuugi’s face in a dejected overcast grey: “I don’t need one of your scars named after me.”

“I - what?” Yuugi said, flashing him an uneven, sideways smile, and Seto felt a flicker of irritation. Atem would’ve understood immediately. But, in fairness to Yuugi, he was being a little obtuse.

“You have a way of suffering for your friends,” he explained. “And I think part of you likes it.”

Yuugi straightened up in his seat, suddenly electric. 

“What the hell? It’s just cooking,” he said, with a stormy flash of lightning in his violet eyes. “You’re reading into this way too much. I cook because it’s fun and artistic and I like feeding people, not because I like… self-flagellating or something. Seriously, you can’t just spout off - ”

“You misunderstand me,” Seto countered. “There’s no reason to… hurt yourself on my behalf. If you want to eat together, I’d rather go to that kitschy little ice cream place down the block and get a fucking waffle cone. I don’t want you unable to duel because you burned your hand trying to pan-fry a steak for me.”

Yuugi opened his mouth, brows furrowing together… and scoffed, a surprisingly affectionate sound.  He rolled his eyes around the park, his gaze swinging across the sunlit grass, and looked back at Seto. 

“Okay. First of all, I've mastered the art of the pan-fried steak, and you should try it,” he said. “Second of all, what makes you think you’re not someone worth suffering for?”

Seto snorted, masking his inwards flinch. Mokuba already suffered enough, thank you. And for what? A ghost of a brother. A black hole, a perpetual collapsing. Things went in and they crossed the event horizon and the pressure squeezed them for eternity without ever letting them reach the center and nothing ever came back out, as much as it wanted to. The scientific term for such distortion of effort, stretched to an immeasurable length without breaking, was spaghettification. Even a black hole needs to eat! 

He slid one of his tokens back and forth with his fingertip, short, scraping jerks of wood against wood, thinking. 

“Direct attack on my life points,” he muttered.

“Yeah, you also got me pretty good,” Yuugi chuffed. “Let’s call it even. But relax. It’s just cooking. I love the process, and I love the result, and I love doing stuff for my friends. It’s not some big… metaphorical… symbol of something. This - " he lifted his mittened hand - "doesn't mean anything except I mishandled a knife. It’s not like… you and Duel Disks.”

But Seto also loved the process and the result and more than once he'd injured himself, machining parts or fiddling with wires that, like all wild living things, bit back in fear of his touch. He splayed his hand over the table, watching blood drip onto his work station, knowing he should get up, clean it, bandage it. But it was only two in the morning and there was work to do.

“The Duel Disk is a symbol of Kaiba Corp’s future,” he said, closing his hand into a fist. "I know what you've done for your friends. I’ve seen it. Doesn't that merit the same... mythology?"

Yuugi gave him a funny look, half skeptical, half knowing.

"That’s nice of you, thank you," he said, and an uncomfortable blush crawled up Seto’s neck. Sometimes he did understand. “Are you sure you don't want me to cook for you?”

Seto opened his mouth, closed it, folded his arms on the table. He felt like he was trying to explain the feeling of the color blue, or the arguments for why numbers do or don’t exist, or what it was like to dream. Well, you see, the last time I saw Atem, he told me - correction: the last time as in the most recent link in a chain of time, not the last time as in the end of the line, because he also told me we’d see each other again - he told me to enjoy this, and you know me, I never do what I’m told. And I can’t do what he told me to do because he was my friend, and if friendship is just getting caught in a great sticky web of small cuts and large cuts and burns and bruises and tears and suffering because they’re here and suffering because they’re not, then just go ahead and let the spider drink me up and dump what’s left of me in the dirt. I am so sick and tired of pain. Mine. Yours. Ours.

But he did enjoy these afternoons. He was enjoying the process of making this: he had more with Yuugi now than he ever had before. He reached across the table and took Yuugi’s bandaged hand between his own hands, running his thumb carefully over the inked warning. Yuugi's hand relaxed in his. Yes, Yuugi was wrong. It was the same as Duel Disks. In any act of creation there was pain, there was power, and there was glory. What difference was there between a hologram of a dragon and a steaming bowl of soup? Both nourished something. Both were an answer to hunger. Discovering an emptiness and filling it.

“Okay,” he said, releasing Yuugi’s hand. “Alright. Cook for me.”

“Yeah?!” Yuugi said, with rising excitement, beaming. “What should I make? What do you like?”

“Make me a steak,” Seto said, smiling. It felt good to see Yuugi smile. His hypothesis neatly undermined. See? It’s not all damage. “No. Surprise me.”

[husbandograveyard]

Henlo all! This is my contribution to @burnthoneymint​‘s birthday challenge! I hope you will enjoy it! Thank you Sil for hosting this wonderful event, and a very early happy birthday to you <3 

Prompt:  Prompt: Person A gets injured on their birthday so they have to stay in, Person B tries to cheer Person A up.

I took some liberties with the prompt but the main idea of it is still there! I hope you don’t mind love  (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) 2nd person. Fem Reader. Mentions of injuries. Other than that, fluff! 

Ace was a ball of youthful energy. Always up for new adventures, always up for fun times. So when you had announced you maybe wanted to do something for your birthday this year, he had gotten to overenthusiastically planning out a bunch of unrealistic concepts. Multiple times you had to step on the break for him and remind him that: a, you were on a ship in the middle of the ocean, b, you would not be stopping for supplies anytime soon and c, that you still would have chores and such to do.

Ace pouted a little at the way you managed to block off all his huge party ideas, but had to admit that you were right about it all. You were snuggling in bed when you told him what you would appreciate most:

“What if we swap chores with someone so we have a day to ourselves? Maybe we can convince Thatch to make me a special birthday meal and y’know… just hang out? It has been a while since we’ve had some time for just the two of us.”

Ace let out a hum in response. Sure, you had a point, and sure, it sounded like a great plan, but was this really how you wanted to spend your birthday? It was nothing more special than any other day off, save for the special meal that he wasn’t even sure Thatch would have the time for. He looked at you as you turned around in his arms, your eyes bright with the expectation for him to agree with your (simple) plan. He simply couldn’t resist those puppy eyes and nodded, dipping down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “Sure, if that’s really what you want y/n” “Yes Ace, it’ll be perfect.”

Your last words were muffled a little as you nuzzled into his chest more, enjoying his warmth now that it was slowly getting colder outside. Already looking forward to a minimalistic birthday celebration, it did not take you long to fall asleep.

Of course, Ace followed suit, his talent to be able to sleep anywhere even when he didn’t get a narcoleptic spell kicking really fast with you snuggled up to him. But not before formulating a little plan in his head. If you didn’t want a big celebration, he’d accept your wishes, but he couldn’t help but try his best to make it a little more special than you had hoped for.

----

The days leading up to your birthday he assured you that he would take care of the meal and the choresswap, even taking over other people’s chores so yours wouldn’t be switched but taken over altogether. You were a little suspicious at his eagerness to arrange all the things for you, but you let him take care of it all without saying too much about it, you figured he was a little sad he couldn’t make his big plans come true and was now trying to compensate by fulfilling your smaller wishes as much as possible.

You watched as he haggled chores with fellow crewmates and even other commanders. You noticed how he spent quite a lot of time in the kitchen, trying to convince Thatch to spend a little extra time on something for you, just to make your day perfect. It was not clear if he had succeeded in his mission when the night before your birthday came up, but when he joined you in your shared bed, he had a slightly mysterious and satisfied-looking smile on his face.  You decided against interrogating him, enjoying some cuddles and already feeling giddy about having a day for just the two of you when waking up. It would be perfect!

The start of the day was in fact, perfect! Ace had gently woken you up with some breakfast in bed, singing some kind of happy birthday tune completely off pitch with a slight rasp in his voice, he had woken up a little early just to make sure his preparations were all done, and hadn’t spoken yet. You giggled at the whole thing, his morning voice was attractive, the breakfast delicious and the singing hilarious.

After you got dressed and ready for the day, Ace announced that he had one surprise for you. Your eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion.

“That wasn’t the deal Ace!” “Ssshhhhhhh, it’s your birthday, you deserve some special things! Don’t worry, it’s nothing too elaborate, I promise. ”

You sighed and followed him along the deck, only to end in a familar place: the back deck where his striker was. “Look, there will be something special happening nearby, so I figured we’d go on a tiny ride. It’s still following your plan of quality time, and we will be back in time to chill and enjoy your special birthday meal. ”

He seemed so enthusiastic, so full of hope, that even if you wanted to act a little mad for him not following your agreement, you couldn’t stop the corners of your lips from turning upward. “Fine, I’ll indulge you on your little surprised joyride. But only because that means I can hold you close for a little more.”

A slight blush tinted Ace’s freckled cheeks as he smiled widely, a triumphant ‘Yessss’ leaving his lips. He readied the striker for the ride, helping you get on as well. You wrapped your arms tightly around his upper body and got ready for the ride, you knew how reckless he got when he was enthusiastic.

Ace was indeed a little reckless in his steering, but never dangerous, not even when you neared a part closer to an island, the water shallow enough to have all kinds of rocks sticking out of it. He carefully maneuvered in between some of them, before stopping in front of one that was large enough for the both of you to sit on. He helped you up, and joined on the spot next to you in silence, and once you both were settled you looked at him with a questioning look.

“This is nice but wh-” “Oh! The show has already started!”

Ace pointed to a point a little further from you, and you saw something you hadn’t noticed before in your fear of him hitting one of the rocks. You had been too focussed on the potential hazard as well as the island nearing that you hadn’t noticed a huge school of dolphins, all rapidly swimming and leaping out of the water, almost as if to put on a performance for the two of you. Your mouth fell open in a surprised o-shape.

“They are always here apparently, I heard about it when we were on the previous island but didn’t think we’d get close enough in time. It was Marco’s idea to take the striker.”

You smiled.

“It’s a wonderful surprise, thank you Ace..” you turned to him to give him a proper kiss to thank him, when you noticed his eyes glazing over.

Shit. Not now.

It wasn’t the first time you had seen the subtle change that indicated that he was about to pass out, but you were too late calling out his name so he could prepare, and he slumped forward. You reacted on instinct, hooking your leg behind a protruding piece of rock and grabbed your boyfriend quickly, before he’d make contact with the seawater. You succeeded in your mission of saving your boyfriend,  but you heard a nauseating crack when you leaped forward, a white-hot pain spreading through your leg immediately. You let out a loud yelp, which woke up Ace immediately, completely disoriented and a little confused.

“Y/n! What happened?” He clambered back onto the rock, too confused to spot your leg yet, while you felt the tears spring in your eyes. You tried to bite them back, but your leg hurt a lot, you weren’t even sure if you’d be able to remove it from its awkward position without suffering. “You fell asleep and I helped you,” you replied through gritted teeth, the wonderful dolphin show now completely forgotten,  “Ace, I think I broke my leg.”

Ace then finally noticed the strange position you were in and his eyes widened in a panic. For the next few minutes the both of you tried to figure out what to do and how to get you back onto the striker without causing you too much pain. The best and seemingly only solution was Ace straight up lifting you up from the rock so you wouldn’t have to move much, and he held onto you as he got back onto the striker, apologizing through the whole ordeal.

“I am so sorry I ruined your birthday, it was meant to be a little surprise, and I just fell asleep like an absolute idiot, I am so sorry y/n.” He repeated it as if it was a mantra, and you felt back because you heard the agony in his voice. And while your leg was still hurting like hell, you didn’t want him to think that he had completely ruined your day. After all, it was only morning still.

“Tell you what Ace. You’re going to drop me off at Marco’s and he’s gonna help me fix that leg. Then, you will carry me to our room and we’re going to do what I had planned for my birthday all along: cuddle and be lazy together. If we’re feeling adventurous we can watch the sunset on deck. No need to do anything crazy” “Are you sure y/n? It’s not that exciting, and I had many more small things planned…”

“Ace, as long as I am with you, I honestly don’t care how we spend my birthday.”

You swore you saw his eyes gloss over momentarily before he regained composure with some new-found courage. “Okay, I will do whatever it takes to make this your best birthday still, even though I started out on the wrong foot”

“You sure you want to use that expression Ace? It’s not even correct” You raised a brow but let out a small laugh, almost forgetting the pain in your leg. “SORRY!!!!”

You knew he was gonna do his best. And you knew it was going to be a great birthday anyway. Broken legs or not.

[emmettsleftnut]

The Cullens learn about Bella’s Childhood.

Bella and Edward are sitting on a couch in the lounge of the Cullen house, still getting to know each other ((Imagine chapter 14 of Midnight Sun)) The other Cullens are sitting in the next room, not entirely listening in, but due to enhanced senses are in easy hearing distance. Bella is lying in Edwards’ lap with her legs across the couch, her back against his chest. He is sitting against the side of the couch, his legs either side of Bella’s, with another round of 20 questions.

“Tell me about your first date.” I said. Surely she had been on plenty of dates before, even if she got half the attention she gets here. “Hah! never been on one” She replied, obvious conquest in her voice. It sounded like she thought she had won something.

“Surely you’re joking Bella, you get more attention than any other female in this town, you can’t expect me to believe-” “Except for Rosalie!” I chuckled, and I’m sure I heard Emmet and Jasper laugh quietly from the next room “Sure, except for Rosalie.” I paused, waiting for her to go on. “Yeah, no dates for me. What can I say, forks is a once off.” I didn’t believe that for a moment, surely if the boys here found her so insanely captivating, the boys from Phoenix couldn’t be so different that they would show no interest whatsoever. “Turn the qualifications for a ‘date’ at the lowest possible setting, still no?” I questioned, surely this would get some sort of answer from her “Still a no cowboy, I’m a fresh slate when it comes to the dating world.” You and me both, i thought. Suddenly Alice’s thoughts from the next room caught my attention ‘Did she seriously just call him cowboy?” I chuckled to myself, I’ll never get used to the colloquial language this generation uses, no matter how much time I spend with them. 

“I just never had time y’know,” she continued “I always had so much to do I never had enough free time to think about it, even if i really wanted to.” Free time, I never really thought about that idea. When I think of Bella, I think of books. Does she not include reading as free time because reading is technically a task? Or was there something that occupied enough time that she could barely have time to read, something she loved so much. “When you say you didn’t have any free time, what do you mean by that? Don’t tell me you spent so much time reading you never met anyone new?” She chuckled, I didn’t think what I had said was funny, but her reaction still put a smile on my face.

“No no, nothing like that, I’m not so much of a hermit that I spend all my time indoors you know.” I took a turn to chuckle this time, but before I could press for further information, she gave it to me without prompt “running a house is hard work you know, it doesn’t leave you with much time to spare.” I stiffened, running a house? What did she mean by that? Was it another expression I was too uninformed to understand, or did she mean it literally. Suddenly i heard all of the conversation in the next room go silent, not that it was loud enough for a human to hear before so I’m positive Bella would not have noticed, but what was odd to me was that thoughts seemed quiet as well, as if everyone in the next room had suddenly taken interest in something. It didn’t take me long to figure out that what they were suddenly interested in was our conversation. 

I suddenly heard Emmet say ‘What? What are you all listening to?’ He was interrupted with shushing and the room once again went silent, how bizarre. “Edward?” Bella interrupted my brooding “Is.. everything ok?” she seemed cautious “Yes everything is fine, I was just processing what you said. What did you mean by running a house” She paused to think about that for a moment, I found myself holding in a non existent breath. 

“Well,” she started “My mother wasn’t much of a homebody. I’ve told you that she was adventurous and would always rather be outdoors than inside, always on some escapade of some sort. Regardless, someone had to tend to the home, that someone was me.” I pondered that for a moment, although not for long as she soon started again “I can’t remember exactly when it started, around when I was four I think, maybe five? I learned quickly though, cleaning was always easy, Renee said that she was allergic to dust, and that the detergent from the dishes hurt her skin so I would always end up cleaning the place. Just paper towels and cleaning solution y’know? Vacuuming, washing dishes, meal prep, doing laundry and the like, nothing crazily difficult, all kids did that sort of thing, y’know?”

Did normal children do things like that? From my knowledge, which I’ll admit is limited in the subject, most human children were just expected to pick up after themselves and not much else, how much could a child truly do. “Go on” I encouraged, she seemed reluctant, maybe I was too tense? I loosened my posture and this seemed to calm her slightly.

“As I got older I was able to do much more, by six I was able to cook full meals” she chuckled without humour “My mother wasn’t home much, or if she was, she was planning her next adventure. I had to talk her down from a lot of them, skydiving and cliff jumping with flying suits, she’s terrified of heights but only I seemed to remember that.” She pondered for a moment, thinking, I decided. “I was told that I had more capabilities than most college students, although I’m not sure if that’s true. I did taxes, budgeting, paid bills, cooked each day, cleaned the house when I came home from school, and did any school stuff I had to do after that, so yeah, limited free time.” 

I was taken aback by this, ‘so yeah’ she had said as if it was no big feat that she was doing all of this. “You make it sound like she was never around, like you lived on your own or something?” I asked, unsure how she would respond. She just chuckled again and said “ah it felt like that every now and again, since I was in school I had to stay home to go each day so sometimes I would be. She would want to go on a trip, I had to go to school or tend to the house so I would stay home while she went out to god knows where. Then when she got home, I’d feed her, listen to the details of her trip, then watch her plan her next one. Don’t get me wrong I went on them with her when I could, but I had a lot on my plate.”

I was speechless, she had just stated that she was essentially an adult before she had even reached double digits in age, but assumed this was normal. “Bella, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think that’s normal for children of that age.” I said warily, she scoffed and said “Come on I’m sure its fine, most kids have to do chores around the house and cook and all that, just because I did some extras every now and again doesn’t mean my life was overly difficult.”I thought about this for a moment, maybe this really wasn’t as bizarre as I thought. No, no that couldn’t be, I was sure that children usually spent their childhoods making friends and having fun, not filing taxes and cooking meals. 

“Bella, exactly how often were you left alone?” “Most of the time.” she said quite quickly, as if she didn’t need to think about this at all. “Can you elaborate on ‘most of the time?’” I said, once again wary. “Maybe 70 to 80% of the time, I’m not entirely sure but my mother was out quite a lot.” It sounded to me like Renee wasn’t as much of a parent as Bella had said, more of an obligated holder, like Bella was just some sort of possession that she could leave behind. This angered me, Bella had talked about her mother as if she was some sort of admirable figure, yet she would leave her daughter home alone for the sake of what? an adventure?

“You ok?” She asked, I had only just realised I had been silent for a while now “Just thinking” I answered “Penny for your thoughts?” “I’m just unsure about the dynamic, you speak very highly of your mother Bella but I’m starting to become unsure as to why. From what you’ve said, it seems like she doesn’t deserve the praise you give her.” She seemed to tense at this comment, but I continued.

“You say that she left you alone so much of the time, but speak of her as if she never left you alone a day in your life. She would adventure and prance, but leave you alone at home to cook and clean and do your own schoolwork, you must have been so alone Bella.” Her breathing was becoming shaky, I felt bad about continuing but I wanted to try and figure out why she viewed her mother so highly. 

“Your literary capability is so high because once you had finished taking care of a whole house, you had no one to talk to, so you would just read, am I right?” “You’re not wrong but-” “And you learned to cook and clean and take care of yourself because you had no choice, if you didn’t, you would be the one who suffered for it. Am I right?” “yes, you’re right” she said quietly, snuggling into my chest further. I couldn’t exactly make out her tone but I continued again. “Bella, that’s not okay love. This is no issue of yours but I worry that you had to live in an environment like that.” “Its okay” she finally said, I wrapped my arms around her, I could tell she was aware that how her mother had treated wasn’t okay, but she had just decided it was how it would be for her. “That’s just how it turned out for me, okay? I may have been lonely, and tired and had to learn fast but thats just how it is. I could’ve had it much worse, I didn’t get harmed or suffer some mysterious illness,” she looked up at me “sorry.” I laughed quietly, she seemed to think I would take offence at the mention of getting an illness, I may have died of the flu but I’m sure she knew I wasn’t that fragile.

“Shoot” She suddenly said, staring down at my arm, wiggling in an attempt to get up. “What is it Bella, are you okay?” I said releasing her and sitting her up on the couch, turning around to sit beside her. “Yes yes I’m fine I just realised how late it is, I have to get home and sort dinner for Charlie” she was still holding my arm, I realised she was looking at the black banded, silver watch on my wrist. Looks like we had both lost track of time, I looked outside to see the sun almost completely set “I see, let me give you a ride home.” “No no you’re fine, I’ll drive myself. See you later my love.”  She gave me a quick kiss and dashed down the stairs and out the door before I could get another word in. For an exceptionally clumsy human, she could move quite fast.

I sat for a moment, contemplating our conversation, only now realising that the thoughts in the next room were starting to become louder again and I could hear quiet conversation begin. I got up and stalked into the room, dropping myself in an empty armchair amongst the pure white couches. To my left Esme, Carlisle and Alice were all sitting on the couch, exchanging looks, Rosalie and Emmett on the couch to my right, Jasper standing by the floor length window, looking into the forest, deep in thought it seemed. I didn’t look to see what he was thinking specifically, I couldn’t imagine it was anything I would be interested in.

Esme spoke first, looking at me with her natural maternal look somehow more intense on her face. “I’m sorry Edward, we had to listen” She seemed upset at herself so I responded quickly to try and calm her “It’s okay Esme, I know you all are trying to learn more about her. What are your thoughts.” They all seemed to think on it for a moment, all except for Rosalie, who must have done her thinking before I entered the room, she had her opinion concrete, but was waiting for someone else to begin it seemed, or she wouldn’t share it at all. Alice spoke next “Its a shame Edward, it really is. She’s so lovely and kind, and such a good friend to me,” I shot her a look “she WILL be a good friend to me, I frankly hated hearing it, she sounded so upset at having to face it, funny how conversations can change so quickly. A few scattered nods could be seen throughout the room “It doesn’t seem entirely fair, does it?” Carlisle spoke next “She truly is a lovely girl, and although she doesn’t see it she was raised in a neglectful household, yet somehow she still has so much respect for her mother.” “I certainly wouldn’t treat a child that way, however irritating they may be, children deserve love more than anything else” Rosalie spoke quietly, surprising us all, she was never one to feel any positive emotions towards Bella. Well I guess she didn't feel them towards Bella specifically, but in this case Bella was the child in question. Jasper walked towards us and sat down besides Alice. “I can’t say I enjoyed myself either, she definitely wasn’t enjoying herself during your little conversation,” 

All eyes were on Jasper now, he was the last person anyone expected to be emotionally invested in any affair to do with Bella, pun entirely intended “I’m not sure if you’re right Carlisle, judging by what she felt at least, I’m no expert on humans, but she seemed to know.” “What do you mean by that Jasper, what do you mean ‘seemed to know’?” Carlisle responded, obviously confused by his newest sons revelation “She seemed almost numb to what Edward was saying, as if she had heard it before on a lesser scale. It was only when Edward really began to tell it like it is that I saw a real change.” “Which was?” Carlisle urged him on “She seemed almost regretful, I don’t read minds so I obviously can’t tell what exactly she was thinking, but she seemed to feel truly awful for speaking ill of her mother, although she had said nothing that could be considered close to trash talking. I think she knows how she was treated is something that should never be expected from a parent, but she feels as if she owes it to her mother for housing and caring for her, even if she was missing most of the time.” We all looked at him, how he had picked up so much would have to be due to his gift of emotional intelligence, or maybe he was just feeling especially perceptive today. 

“Edward you love her, don’t you?” Esme suddenly said, breaking our silence, all eyes were back on me now “I do Esme, more than I could possibly describe.” “That settles it then,” she spoke with conviction “We will just have to show her how a family should operate, how a true family treats each other. We may not be the cookie cutter definition, but I love you all as my children, and Edward, I love her too. Anyone who you choose to spend your forever with, is a daughter of mine.” She walked over and hugged me, a huge smile all the way across her face causing her eyes to almost fully close. I squeezed her and let her go, looking into her eyes “Thanks mum, that means a lot to me and I’m sure it will mean the world to her.” Emmet chimed in then, jumping to his feet “Well, if I’m getting a sister she best be down for some roughhousing, I’ll show her how siblings REALLY interact.” He also had a smile on his face, cracking his knuckles. “Emmett, she’s human, remember. Maybe let’s keep the physical jabs to a minimum, and focus on verbal jabs instead. What’s life without a healthy dose of your humour.” 

His smile dropped for a moment then returned with even more gusto. “You’re right you’re right I’m hilarious.” He plopped himself back on the couch next to Rosalie at the same time Esme returned to her seat by Carlisle, grabbing and squeezing his hand. “It’s settled then” Carlisle spoke “Since our Edward has chosen to spend his forever with Bella, we will do the same. Anyone that someone in our family choses to love and care for will be just as loved and cared for by the rest of us. Bella is our family now, she has chosen you and you have chosen her, let’s show her just how loving this family can be.”

A/N: I have never written anything like this before so I apologise if it sucks, I hope you all at least get the sentiment.

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Contending the Flame IV

Author’s Note: Hope everyone had a safe and fun Halloween! Not much else to say here as we start to delve deeper into Ivar and the Nuns new relationship and the two different worlds they come from. Thanks as always for being so awesome!

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 2217

Warnings: Language, Master/Servant dynamic 

His brothers had kept a close eye on Ivar since acquiring his new thrall. He still played at the leader of their army, but he had refrained from shutting them out of power entirely. Any chance they had at lending a commanding voice they took. Hvitserk's strategy of giving their little brother a distraction was paying off.

The changes in Ivar's behavior were minuscule. Only Ubbe and Hvitserk took notice. It was the same when they were children when someone would give a new gift to Ivar. It would be a stretch to say he was happy, but his vengeance had quelled. For the moment it was enough, and they could focus on securing lands for their people while Ivar was preoccupied.

It was strange for a thrall not to be seen waiting over their master's every whim, but it seemed Ivar wouldn't permit you to leave his quarters. The other slaves they had acquired tended to him during meals, and when he walked the streets with his guards, you were always absent. Ubbe walked alongside Hvitserk contemplating this.

"What do you think he has her do for him?" Ubbe wondered aloud.

Hvitserk's brows puckered in thought. "Don't know. I can't imagine they have much to talk about, and I know the one thing they aren't doing."

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon, think about it," Hvitserk jested with a smirk. "I suppose that must make him a good fit for her. She'll remain a virgin after all."

Ubbe latched onto Hvitserk's arm, pulling him to a stop as he gave him a harsh look. "Those are dangerous words, brother. Remember Sigurd. I don't want to see another brother dead because of Ivar's fragile grasp of his anger. He has poor sensibilities when it comes to that matter. It's unfair, but it's not his fault."

Hvitserk shook off Ubbe's grasp and rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. "Right, that was stupid. I do pity him, though I don't think he'd want it. Who knows how he'll be when we start having families of our own."

Ubbe grunted. "He'll probably resent us, more than he does already. I think I understand why he keeps her away from everyone. Besides our mother, no one has ever taken to Ivar's company outside of obligation or familial bond. He's lonely."

"And it's not as if she can refuse," said Hvitserk. "But she's a Christian. That's got to account for some strife between them."

They continued on their way towards the center of the city. Food was beginning to run scarce, and it seemed the Saxons were holding steadfast on starving them out. While Ivar was willing to take their army to its limits to play Aethelwulf's game, Ubbe and Hvitserk were devising their own plan to negotiate land. They just needed a little more time. Many things rested in the hands of the nun, as unaware as you were.

"I just hope he hasn't harmed her," Ubbe said while they passed through the market.

Hvitserk looked grim, a heaviness settling on him that had replaced his usual cheer. "Ivar did always break toys. We have to hope that Christian isn't as weak as she looks."

ooOOoo 

You were growing accustomed to your new station. As a woman, it was your lot in life to suffer, and you took your new situation as a test from God. The heathen, Ivar, he had made no bid to harm you. That wasn't to say he was good company to keep. He had taken to trying to instruct you in a handful of words and phrases of his language. Some of the words were difficult to form with your accent, and when you mispronounced things, he would grow irritated and throw things at you. Uttering dark curses in his tongue, you were certain he had insulted you as well, but it was better than a flogging. 

At night you continued to pray, your back to your master, and the words spoken only in your head. You were sure they reached God, even without a rosary in your grasp or the piety to kneel. In your heart, you struggled to keep hope alive. If this test was to be your final judgment from God, its purpose remained clouded to you.

It was late when Ivar returned, and you had remained awake for his arrival. You now slept when he did, short and inconsistent hours of the night, only to be woken before the dawn. He did not rest well. Be it from his duties or pain you could not say, but he never faltered from exhaustion. This pattern must have been his usual routine, life at war.

Ivar's eyes sought you out the moment he came through the door, and you returned the stare. He had only just started walking in his new contraptions, a set of iron braces that he had created from pride. His determination to walk was admirable. You had never witnessed such a fighting spirit before, and you were certain it was a blessing from God.

"Something you wish to say?" Ivar interrupted your thought, a scowl on his face from your lingering gaze on his legs.

"It is a good thing," You said while rising from your corner of the floor. "I believe God has blessed you."

Ivar snorted, blue eyes rolling at your absurdity to insinuate such a thing. He took a slow seat on his pallet of furs and started to remove the braces. "Really, and why would that be?"

"You are not the first cripple I have met, but you are the most assiduous."

You could see him test out the word for himself, a lack of understanding passing over his face. "I'm not sure what that means, but I like how it sounds."

"You have an unrelenting heart. Strong-willed and resolute in your goals. I find you impressive."

He halted what he was doing, and took a long, considering look at you. "I've been this way for as long as I can remember. It is the way if I am to be seen as a true Viking to my people."

"So there are others like you?" You asked as you approached him with careful steps.

"There are not many cripples among my people, no. A child born with a deformity such as mine is left to die. I would have been if not for my mother. She was softhearted, and couldn't bear my loss."

You didn't want to have any strong sort of feelings towards your captor, but to learn that he had been left to die as a helpless babe engulfed you in sorrow. "It isn't wrong for a mother to feel pity for her child," You murmured, showing how distraught you were by such a story. "You don't sound grateful for her mercy."

Ivar's face hardened at your sentiment. "Mercy is for Christians. I would have done the same as my father. I loved my mother, but there are days I resent her for her choice. Her gifts failed to foretell the agony I would endure at the hands of compassion."

"What gifts?"

"She was a Vülva, a woman seeress of our people who has visions of the future."

You frowned at such a concept. "That sounds like sorcery to me."

"I forgot your people fear magic and witchcraft," Ivar said in a teasing tone. "My mother would have hated you. She was too steeped in the beliefs of our own people to have care about your sensitive notions of God. My father would have liked you though."

You blushed at the idea of such a great man holding you in favor. Though you didn't hail from Wessex you had heard the stories of the Viking King who fought for Mercia and befriended King Ecbert. "King Ragnar? Why do you think that?"

"He was often amused and curious about your God. Maybe you would have reminded him of Æthelstan, his Christian monk." Ivar resumed the task of taking off his braces, wincing in pain whenever a particular part pinched or pulled at his legs. "Here, come help me with this."

Startled by such a request, you moved with haste and uncertainty. Ivar showed you which parts to unclasp, and you would mimic his actions with a gentler touch, stopping entirely when he would let out any sound of discomfort. You were certainly slower at the task than if he completed it himself, but he seemed to enjoy watching you work over him, and you were grateful for the distraction. 

"What about your family? Where are your mother and father?" Ivar asked while leaning back on the strength of his arms.

"They're both dead," You said, pausing only a moment to collect yourself before continuing on his braces. "I was born in Rendlesham, in East Angles. My mother was a whore, and I never knew who my father was as a result of that. When she died, I was orphaned to the streets until the church took me in. Being of such low birth standing, I turned to the church as my ray of hope."

You could feel Ivar frowning at you, but you did not waver. "Did you not want to be something more than a nun?"

You breathed a laugh. "Such as what? Saxon women are not allowed to be warriors."

"Yes, but isn't there a way you could have improved your situation?"

"No," You said bluntly. "Blood is everything. Those who are of Royal standing will always be in power, and through marriage, their line continues. The best I could have hoped for was a marriage to a farmer, and he would have to have been a poor one. I would have raised his children, and likely died young from childbirth."

"I see now why you're a nun," said Ivar. When you chanced a look up at him, he appeared troubled by your story. "Those Saxons in power are greedy. They keep all for themselves and give nothing back. What chance is there of an honorable death for those forced to live a life of poverty?"

"If you die without sin, you go to Heaven. We have no need for honor."

"A life without sin," Ivar hummed. "As if any man is capable of such purity."

"A Priest is," You argued back. "It takes a nobleman to obtain such a pious position in the church."

"Is it noble for these men to keep silver and gold in their churches while children run through the streets, no better than dogs?" Ivar had sat forward, his eyes emboldened with the wrath of a demon. "I have seen your noblemen of the cloth, and they died screaming the same as any sinning heathen of mine."

You lost your balance, falling flat on your bottom as you gazed up at Ivar in terror. "What did you do to them?"

"The things I've done to your priests," Ivar paused, a calm washing over him. "It would make Loki grin."

The suffering of your people seemed to fall down on you like a star collapsing from the night sky. When he spoke, you could almost forget that Ivar was your enemy, but he had now made it clearer than ever where the line in the sand was drawn. You were just a slave, a Christian slave, and how soon would it be before he tired of you? You did not wish the same fate to befall you as it had for the priests, whatever it had been.

"I have not dismissed you," Ivar tutted when you began to walk away to your corner, unaware yourself that you had begun to do so. You craved distance from him, even if it was only a few feet away. 

At first, he tried to manage his composure, calling you back with his voice deliberately even. When it became clear that no amount of coaxing on his part would work, he started yelling in his language. That word came up again, 'Ólaug'. It had been peppered into a number of your one-sided conversations. If he had tried to brand you with a new name, you would refuse. He would not take who you were. 

Your fight ended with him throwing one of his crutches at you. It landed just before you, and you were able to contain your flinch. Ivar scoffed at your non-reaction and threw himself back onto the furs. He had finished disrobing and gave you the courtesy of his back, which appeared to be covered in a new etched design each time you saw him. Matched against your own untainted skin, it was a reminder of how different the worlds you came from were.

When you were sure Ivar had fallen asleep, you moved to get under your own thin pile of wool blankets. They were scratchy and held none of the warmth of the furs, but it was not the worst sleeping conditions you had ever weathered. That night you prayed for the lost Priests, and for God to take away your suffering. You didn't see a way out of your situation, but if God acted through you, you were certain to find your answer. Content to keep faith in your heart, Sister Mary Catharine slept, ignorant to the matter that Ivar was awake and watching you.

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[theblekromantik]

somewhere new

Erik Stevens x Black Reader

a/n: hello lovelies, i hope you’re well and i hope that you enjoy this! i’ve been experimenting with writing lately, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated!!!

summary: you and Erik go decide to go grocery shopping, but you switch things up a little

warnings: fluff-ish with some sexual tension and implied smut

word count: 3189

A booming,

“Yo, ma!”

Accompanied by a knock at the door rattles you, causing you to drop your eyelash into the sink. Your good, very expensive eyelash that requires much focus in order to be applied to your upper lash line.

Grunting and twinging your face in disgust of the sight before you, you fish it out of the sink, blowing on it to determine if the glue is still salvageable.

“Come on, E! Five minutes!” You respond with your mouth slightly parted, a strange requirement for impeccable eyelash placement.

“Princess, we gotta hurry up before the store closes,” Erik protests, pulling up his sleeve to check his diamond-encrusted AP watch. It’s almost seven o’clock, and Erik hated shopping minutes before a store closed. It made him feel like he was being rushed to gather his items and head to the register.

You and Erik frequently ran errands together, only this time you were grocery shopping. Staying in was nice and all – really quite enjoyable – but an end had to come to the endless Netflix bingeing and takeout from your favorite spots. You both, mainly Erik, decided that it was time for a nutritious, home-cooked meal, one that wouldn’t lead you down a road of clogged arteries and hypertension. But Erik was a phenomenal chef, so you could hardly complain that your ongoing DoorDash expenditure had been interrupted.

“Damn! One second!” You holler. “One second…there.”

You step back and look into the mirror, admiring yourself. Thirty minutes of hard work and determination had really paid off! You grab your phone from the sink’s surface and proceed to snap some photos of yourself.

SHUTTER! SHUTTER! SHUTTER! SHUTTER!

Beauty must always be captured, no matter what the time restraint.

“Princess! You taking pictures in there?” The dreaded man pounds on the door, harder this time. Banging, nearly shaking the hinges out of the door until you swing it open.

And there you are, dolled up and all, from the 26-inch deep wave hair to the Adidas tracksuit, the top zipped down nearly to the level of exposing the full extent of your breasts. Just the way you liked it.

Erik can hardly contain himself as he looks further down at you, ogling how your recently-manicured toes fit perfectly between each slot of your sandals. Man, he knew you were one for dressing up, but to the grocery store? Maybe he needs to step his game up.

“Well?” You jest. “You were so loud banging on the door, you got nothing to say now?”

Catching his lip underneath his teeth, he smugly looks you over once more, trying to gather words to say, for you’ve left him speechless.

He inches closer to you, “My babygirl likes to talk back, huh?”

“Yup, she do,” Boldness courses through you, nearly shattered as you maintain eye contact with your boyfriend.

His eyes were boulders, but you were just as unyielding. This game the two of you liked to play – this perpetual exchange of power – rarely ever ended with you emerging victorious. And you knew this, but you wanted to have your fun.

Finally, though smirkingly, you divert your gaze to your phone, shuffling through your gallery to decide which photos to keep, which photos to delete, and which photos to post.

“You look beautiful, Princess,” Erik chuckles after pressing a kiss onto your lips. “Now let’s go.”

While you knew you had lost the battle in the bathroom, you couldn’t wait to enjoy the war you and Erik would have in the bedroom later.

–

“Shotgun!” Erik shouted as you were fumbling in your purse for your keys, making a sprint for the car through your apartment complex’s parking lot.

The sun was setting beneath the horizon, and it illuminated the sky a burnt orange, a hue that began to embellish the surfaces of each object it touched – buildings, vehicles, windows, trees, the reflective skin of Erik’s custom-designed Air Max 97s as he raced further away from you.

After some time, your nimble fingers reach the item of your search, which results in a chime. You pull the keys out, contemplating whether to unlock the car doors for dreaded man in order to relieve him from the heat of the California sun, or let him suffer. Though it was setting, this sun still could extract a cup of sweat from one’s body. But hey, Erik was grown, he could wait.

You strut up to the car to see your boyfriend leaning on the door, panting, condensation forming on his forehead.

You release a sound of triumph, “I was gonna drive anyway.”

The car unlocks with a chirp, and you open the door and sit down. Dumbfounded, Erik was clutching the hood of the car still, trying to catch his breath.

“You getting in, or…”

He opens the car door and slumps down into the seat.

“You didn’t have to have a nigga looking dumb, baby.”

“I don’t think you need me for that, E.”

Erik snickers, “So it’s like that?”

“Yeah, it’s like that,” you tease, pressing the car to start and reversing out of the lot.

The two of you were buckling in for a long evening, and quite frankly, you couldn’t wait to see how it would progress.

–

As you drive on the road, the city and all its structures – both new and old – vanish behind you as a multitude of cool currents of air whip into the car through the windows, blowing your hair in all sorts of directions.

The vehicle vibrates as you blast a playlist full of new releases through your aux, and Erik grips your thigh as he sings to you, gold canines flashing and all.

You gently place your foot on the break, easing the car to a stop before the upcoming red light.

Erik, nearly louder than the music, starts to grind on the seat à la Magic Mike, and you couldn’t help but to laugh at the dreaded man and his silliness, a behaviour that is a pleasant break from his usual brooding nature.

But your laughter is cut short by a car honking behind you, indicating that the light had just turned green. You roll your eyes, because it had literally just turned green, and you press on the gas, revving your vehicle to the speed limit.

You pass another number of buildings a before making a sharp left turn.

“Shit!” You mumble to yourself.

You had almost missed the turn.

“Babygirl, that wasn’t the turn. Where we going?” Erik questions, for the route you’re taking was not your usual one.

“A little change of plans. I wanted to go somewhere else this time.”

“’Somewhere else’?” Erik probes. “What’s wrong with Ralph’s?!”

Now this took Erik by surprise. He’s genuinely concerned about your decision. To him, Ralph’s is King.

“Nothing, just wanna try something different.”

Your boyfriend clutches his heart, feigning a heart attack. You snort and turn into the parking lot. Both the wind and the car’s engine settle as you drive into a spot and press the vehicle off.

“Trader Joe’s?!” Erik cries. “What they got up in there?”

You exit the car, grabbing your purse from the backseat. “Stop complaining. Let’s go.”

–

If boredom could be personified, it’s spitting image would be Erik, for he rests his forearms on the bar of the shopping cart, eyes drooping as he observes the eccentric packaging of Trader Joe’s products.

Picking up a container of salsa he says, “Why all this shit organic?”

But you just suck your teeth and let him sulk behind the cart, ignoring him and all his grumbling.

“And this,” His gaze sets upon another display, “Who the fuck needs all these types of dried fruit? Probably taste like tumbleweed anyway.”

“Yo, stop moaning and groaning over there,” You shoot back at him, grabbing two packages of dried mangoes and placing them into the cart.

But Erik persists, dragging his feet across the smooth, concrete floor.

Minding the grocery list you and Erik had created earlier on your phone, you head deeper into the produce section, searching for some leafy greens and other ingredients that would contribute toward Erik’s signature salad. He walks off with the cart, gathering some tomatoes and bell peppers before making his way into another section of the store.

You, on the other hand, stand in front of the illuminated display with every type of green you could think of: arugula, kale, spinach, and lettuce, just to name a few. Reaching in, you squish some of the bags in order to determine their freshness. And you grab some kale and return to your shopping partner, who was waiting patiently for you, his previous protesting done with.

Looking down at the list on your phone, there wasn’t that much left for you all to grab, just some seasonings that were essential for the completion of any dish. There’re so many to choose from, and quite frankly, you’d just grab them all if you weren’t on a budget. So, you place a couple in the cart. And when you look up again, there Erik is, a pouty look on his face.

“Birthday cake popcorn?” Erik suggests, holding up the multicoloured item.

“Put it in the cart,” You giggle, maneuvering to a checkout line with the least amount of people.

The line becomes shorter and shorter, with customers paying and leaving with their large brown bags. And before you know it, the cashier shouts, “Next!” and moves to take your cart.

“Find everything okay?” The cashier asks, briefly glancing up at the two of you before moving to scan the items in your cart.

“Yes, thank you,” you respond, blankly staring as more items appeared on the customer screen and the worker transferred your groceries into the bags adjacent to the register.

Erik, standing beside you, wraps his right pinky finger against your left one, linking the two of you before you adjust to hold his entire hand. He grips your waist and pulls you in to kiss your lips and lingers there for a short while, eyes boring into yours while also relishing the traces of your chocolate-flavoured lip gloss that had found its way to onto his tongue.

You’re flustered, of course, but not because he hadn’t kissed you this intensely before, but because you were reminded that you were still at the grocery store, for the cashier cleared their throat awkwardly, repeating the total cost you had missed in your fleeting moment of passion.

Scratching your neck, hoping to relieve the embarrassment that that crept up your spine, you ask, “I’m sorry, how much is it?”

To which the cashier responds, “That’s $43.96.”

“I got it, bae,” Erik interjects, pulling out his wallet and handing a crisp yet folded fifty-dollar bill to the worker.

And while the cashier hands Erik the change, you grab the red cart and head toward the exit but not before thanking them. A few steps behind, Erik acknowledges another cashier – the only Black cashier – with a head nod and a knowing smile, to which the cashier nods, shrugs, and returns the grin: the shared feeling of being the only Black person in the room. The automatic doors open, reintroducing the cool evening air upon your face and hair, and the rubber wheels of the cart greet the smooth pavement.

When you reach the cart return, Erik grabs all of the bags while you fit the cart among the lines of carts already present. The two of you begin to walk to your parked vehicle but instead accidentally stumble upon on one with a similar make and model to your own but was not yours.

“I swore I parked right here,” you huff, standing on the balls of your feet, searching the sea of identical cars in the well-lit parking lot. And the fact that there were so many other last-minute shoppers did not help your plight either.

“Lemme see the keys,” Erik says, intrigue in his voice. “I wanna see something.”

You hand him the keys to the car, and he places them under his chin, pressing the unlock button repeatedly.

“That doesn’t actually work, does it?” You quiz, doubt heavy on your words.

“We have to see.”

Supposedly, this little trick should increase the bandwidth of the key’s signal, using one’s head as a sort of antenna. But after a couple clicks, you hear nothing besides traffic on the neighbouring streets.

Pointless, you think, just wanting to hurry up and head home.

But then, you hear a series of chirps in the distance and Erik yipping about the fact.

“Over there,” Erik says, nodding his head toward the source of the noise.

He picks up the bags, and you both head to the vehicle.

–

Shutting the door to your car, you release a sigh. Finally, the bags are all placed on the floor of your car, and you can finally head home.

With your foot on the break, you reach to push the car to start but then Erik yelps, “Wait! I wanna try those mango joints.”

“Oh, now you wanna try them,” You jest, “Because if I can remember, you were just–”

“–Man,” Erik interrupts, reaching to the backseat and rummaging through the bags. “Found it.”

He surveys the clear package titled “Soft & Juicy Mango” with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips curled, a slight repugnance that he couldn’t even help hide. But ripping the bag open, his expression softens as the aroma fills his nostrils, the sweet, tropical scent soothing him.

You watch, rolling your eyes, as Erik cautiously lowers his fingers into the package. One would think that the former Navy Seal wouldn’t be so dramatic over something like trying a new food, but Erik never ceases to amaze you.

Mango slice in hand, Erik purses his lips as he brings it to his mouth, slowly. Tortuously. And chews, his head cocked to the side.

“Wait,” he says as he swallows the last bit. “These bitches smack!”

You release a sound of disbelief, start the vehicle, and pull into the street, heading home. Of course the mangoes were delicious.

–

The sound of the car door closing can be heard as you and Erik finish grabbing all the groceries and head to the entrance of your apartment building. Your boyfriend opens the door for you, his veiny forearm braced on it and towering above you as you enter.

“Damn, ma! You getting thick!” He hollers as he watches the sway of your hips in your fitted bottoms.

You feel your cheeks warm up as you push some hair behind your air. You had been getting thick.

The lobby as you pass through is empty except for the security guard looking down at a glow coming from their lap and a couple of young people with white wires cascading down from their ears, bopping their heads to music that you can hear but not quite make out specific lyrics.

You and Erik find your way inside the elevator, the flickering fluorescents easing you back home, a stark difference from the glaringly bright ones at Trader Joe’s. Erik presses the round “4”, and the aluminum doors begin to close before you, you staring ahead while Erik sneaks a glance at you, smirking before redirecting his gaze toward the sliding metal.

Watching the line of numbers flash as the lift ascends from the ground floor, you turn to Erik, kissing him softly on the lips, closing your eyes and feeling a tingling sensation coursing into him through you. An electrical current that ceases to meet its end, ravishing you both entirely.

And with a ding, the elevator doors open and there you and Erik are, standing chest to chest in the moment, biting your lips like a couple of anxious teenagers on a first date. You pull away from him, keys in hand, heading for the apartment while Erik watches you.

God, how did he get so lucky? You were a treasure to him, and not only because you were so extraordinary but the little things: how you treated him so tenderly and with love yet wouldn’t hesitate to call him out when he was acting like a fool, and how you were so receptive to him as he was to you. These were all things that he scarcely experienced, if he ever experienced them at all. You helped him learn how to love and to receive love, which is an astonishing feat that many cannot confess that they’ve accomplished for themselves. And as you look back at him and smile while you unlock the door, he feels a bit weak in the knees, your electricity overwhelming him once more. You’ve got him hooked, and he loves it. He’s entirely entranced by you, and he doesn’t mind.

You open the door and are welcomed by your apartment, which is completely shrouded in darkness, save for the streetlights, the headlights of passing cars, and the last sliver of the orange evening sky before it is overcome by those distant stars in the night sky.

“Whew,” you exhale, flipping on the light switch and opening the door wider.

Erik sets the bags down on the countertops and approaches you.

“What are you–” you begin, but Erik is sliding his arms around your midsection and turning you to him. He presses his forehead against yours, twirling the ends of your hair and breathes you in and attaches his lips to yours, gently, truly wanting to savour this moment and you in this moment.

He pulls away, slowly, and confesses for the first time aloud, “I love you,” in a voice no louder than a whisper in a public library, to which you respond, “I love you, too.”

And the two of you remain like this for a few moments, staring into each other’s eyes, not even letting the ever-busy late-night traffic rattle you.

“So,” he starts, “About earlier in the bathroom…”

“Yeah, what about it?” You respond, seduction laced in your words.

“I’m thinking we need to address that.”

“Oh, do you?”

“Yup,” Erik answers, popping the “p”.

“And what about the groceries?”

“They’ll be a’ight.”

“Hm,” You sound, lacing your hand with his and walking the both of you to your shared bedroom.

Erik walks towards you, making you both fall on the bed. And the dreaded man begins pecking at your neck, travelling up to the bone of your jaw and landing once again on your plump lips. He swipes his finger down them, and repeats, “I love you.”

You stand up to close the door, while Erik sits up, waiting on you to return to him. You cradle his head in your hands while you kiss him, deeper, all that former tenderness left at the door. And stripping him of his shirt, his impatient fingers also dance to the zipper of your top, lowering it. He slides the jacket over your shoulders as you kneel on the bed to straddle him. But before you could grind down on his crotch, Erik grips your hips and flips you onto your back, the sudden movement bouncing your body on the bed after it meets the comforter.

“Not so fast, babygirl.”

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX

It didn't entirely come to their expectations, as they'd been expecting a rant about his mother, but instead he snarled in frustration and got to his feet, pacing and muttering angrily, "woman just can't leave me in peace! Even in death she'll find a way to drive me mad, or more mad as I'm still convinced that's what I'd have to be to go back in there for some stupid meeting that Snape's a part of."

"I think we should leave and get some lunch," James sighed as he gazed down at the book. They'd only been at this for a few hours, but really, they'd just been dealing with so many things back to back already a break felt needed.

Sirius stomped wordlessly to the kitchen still muttering obscenities.

They ate their meal in some resemblance of peace but Sirius still refused to leave his plate, scraping it clean and then still scraping his fork against it. Remus hadn't actually meant to whisper, "Sirius, you didn't really mean that right? You know that place didn't-" he broke off as he couldn't think of how to phrase what Azkaban had done to him.

  "I'm not acting right," he muttered to his plate alone. "I know I'm not, I don't need to see you two acting so off when I'm mentioned to notice it myself. Haven't gone after Harry, haven't done a damned thing really, now I'm actually back at that place, been there since Harry got there it seems, and I don't come up to see him until I hear that woman shouting." He sighed and shook his head, letting his hair fall into his face.

"You've clearly got a lot on your mind," James tried his very best to put something light into this. "A new feeling for you I'm sure."

Sirius did not rise to the bait, but he didn't seem to want to linger on this in front of them either as he pushed away from the table and wouldn't look at anyone as he went back to the room.

On the way there Lily managed to step in the shards of the vase James had broken earlier. She quickly banished the mess without remorse, that was just one step of ridding Petunia from her life.

James sat unhappily in his seat as he watched Lily sit back down beside him cuddling their child, his mind still on Sirius as he began flipping to his chapter and wishing he had more to comfort his best friend with, but so long as the topic was going to be over that house he didn't see how that was possible.

Harry was stunned at the news while Sirius elaborated that his dear old mother had put up a Permanent Sticking Charm on these so that they couldn't take them down.

"Spiteful old hag," Sirius spat, "can't get away from that even in her death."

"Well maybe you shouldn't have given her the idea," James still tried to play this off as a joke, "she did give you absolute hell when you put all that stuff up in your room."

Sirius still refused to react past grumbling.

Then he quickly tried to usher them all down the stairs before anything woke up again.

"I don't understand why you don't just put something in the way, put a door in front of curtains or something if keeping her face covered keeps her silent." Harry asked.

"I've got one better, just blow the whole wall up and be done with it," Remus added on.

"Oh how I wish I still had Moony's wisdom at a time like that," Sirius sighed theatrically before explaining to Harry what Remus knew full well, "the permanent sticking charm keeping her to that wall means that you'd have to rip down that whole house to get that thing gone, the charm is now in the very fabric of the building and no amount of blasting walls will get it off unless the whole frame goes with it, that's some powerful magic to get rid of anything, and not going to be used on something as precious as headquarters right now." His face puckered with disappointment as Lily explained the more reasonable half.

"As for putting something more solid to keep that woman blocked, I'm afraid that magic can't just have a wall put in front of it and there won't be consequences. So long as it's enchanted to react to noise and start screaming, if you try to cover that up, the person who did so will suffer terribly for it. It comes with its own countercurse that if you block it in any way from acting like it should, you're cursed. The curtains are enough that it can still activate, while ah, well at least you won't have to see the stupid thing."

Harry just sighed and grumbled about complex magic.

Harry asked what a thing like that was doing here?

"Striving to torture me till the end of my days," Sirius huffed.

Sirius was surprised no one had told Harry this was his parents place. He'd offered it to Dumbledore as Headquarters, about the only useful thing he'd done of late.

James felt his heart sink as he could feel the weight of that even if he hadn't seen his best friend in person.

Lily beat him to the punch by sympathizing, "I'm sure you're just exaggerating like always Sirius, just because he's got you doing things you don't want to be doing."

Sirius wasn't so sure, he still couldn't help a worm of agitation going through his brain of how he'd been acting. He'd been acting more normal last year with the Tournament going on, this just didn't feel right to him.

Harry, who had expected a better welcome, noted how hard and bitter Sirius's voice sounded.

They all gave a hard twitch at that, though they hadn't really been pretending before, you couldn't deny anymore something bad was going on with their Padfoot.

Remus tried to force some hope into his voice, "I'm positive he's just in a mood because he's in that house for a while, once he and Harry step back out he'll lighten up at once."

Sirius took a deep breath and tried to take Moony's words to heart, but he also couldn't pretend Harry's frown deepened at the words.

He followed his godfather into the kitchen which was hardly less creepy than the place above. A long dark room lit only by the fireplace at the end that had a stew pot dangling above it, and more kitchen cooking things on the ceiling.

Sirius still couldn't stop a nasty little shiver for the reminder of that place, where so many of his mother's precious 'lessons' about everything he hated had taken place.

A haze of smoke left the whole place with a foreboding feeling as they all took seats around what appeared to be a pile of rags. Mr. Weasley and Bill were still at the table as well talking in low voices, but Bill quickly caught sight of their entry and called out a greeting to Harry, asking if Mad-Eye had gotten him here by Greenland?

"What a shame he didn't, I heard the scenery is lovely," James rolled his eyes.

Tonks said that he tried,

Lily snorted softly as she could honestly imagine that.

while coming forward and accidentally knocking a candle onto a piece of parchment.

"When she said she was clumsy, she really meant it," Remus chuckled softly.

"Did you really think she was kidding?" Harry laughed lightly back.

"Some people exaggerate it," Remus half heartedly persisted, trying to press into any mundane point with Sirius still looking so tight over continued mentionings of this place. "Just because you drop or break something once in awhile, I've been known to be clumsy as well. This however, is clinically clumsy."

Finally causing the others to start a light giggle as well.

Tonks began apologizing at once as Mrs. Weasley swooped in to save the paper, and in the instant flash of light Harry recognized what he thought were building plans.*

"Just what are they looking into?" Lily asked of no one with exasperation.

"Couldn't tell you," James pouted.

Harry was sad to note he didn't even have a gut feeling about this, it was probably something of the Order he was never told.

Mrs. Weasley caught him looking and quickly snatched the paper away to go into Bill's already stuffed arms full of other similar things.

"That woman's just no fun," Sirius sighed tragically, trying to force himself to remain off his own mother for a time and focus on this overbearing one.

She snapped of no one that these things should all be put up right at the end of meetings.

"Or, you know, don't bother hiding stuff inside the Order and just let them know anyways," James grumbled.

Bill didn't argue the point as he got his wand out and vanished the lot with Evanesce.

"Where do they go?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Wherever Bill wants them to," Remus shrugged, "they've probably got some special place they keep all those documents that only Order members can summon them from."

Sirius told Harry to come have a seat next to him, and then reintroduced Mundungus.

They all felt a sharp spike of agitation at the mention of him.

The thing Harry had taken to be a pile of rags gave a prolonged, grunting snore, then jerked awake.

"I can not believe you of all people were sitting next to him," James balked, staring down at the page. Sirius looked just as confused at his setting mate, but then they were all surprised at Harry's sudden burst of laughter.

"What's so funny then?" Remus prompted as Harry rubbed gently at his temple, his eyes shining with mirth.

"Oh, I just remember all of a sudden Ron telling me about how Sirius reacted when Dung came over. It was just Sirius, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Bill there at the time when he showed up. Apparently he came stumbling into the house, saying 'Dementors attacked, Figgs going to kill me, where's Dumbledore?' Mr. Weasley apparently flipped out at once, ran down into the kitchen and sent an owl off to me, and disapparated before Dung had really gotten all the words out."

He paused there and turned those same amused eyes on Sirius and continued, "Want to know what you did? According to Ron and Hermione you made him repeat it, and then you started strangling him."

Sirius cocked his head to the side, then nodded like this made perfect sense to him. The others couldn't help but give grim smiles as well, it felt rather appropriate to the way they were feeling. Harry finished off by saying, "It took Bill pulling you off to get you to stop, but from then on Ron said that you tended to dog Dung wherever he went, and he'd flinch every time you like scratched your nose or something."

James was still chuckling mercilessly at the imagery as he went back to the pages.

He turned hung eyes on everyone questioningly, before saying he voted with Sirius.

"Bet you anything that wanker agreed with me just for some brownie points," Sirius sniffed in disdain, hardly mollified to find out he'd attempted to strangle someone who had been supposed to be looking after his Godson.

Sirius told him the meeting was over, and Harry was here now.

Mundungus had to struggle to focus on him while asking if he was doing alright?

"No thanks to you," Lily still couldn't help but snip.

His fumbling fingers began going through his robes until he came out with a pipe, which he quickly lit causing a nasty smell to linger in the already hazy place, then he added on he owed Harry an apology.

"The least of which," James sniffed.

Molly cut off anything else as she snapped at him not to light that in the kitchen!

"I can't believe he had the nerve to do something that agitates her, right in front of her," Remus raised a brow as he still knew how ticked Lily was at him for the moment, surely Molly was just as bad if not worse as she probably approved of Harry being followed.

Mundungus quickly agreed and pocketed it, but the smell of burning socks still lingered.

"Pleasant," Lily crinkled up her nose.

Then she snapped of the room at large if they wanted dinner any time soon she needed some help, before turning on Harry and saying he was excluded as he'd had a long day.

"I'd have rather been next to the stove," Harry muttered to himself, his rage had made him forget about his cold upon arrival, but he still hadn't fully regained feeling in all his fingers from that flight.

Tonks bounded forward at once to offer her services to a clearly apprehensive Molly.

"I'm supposing Tonks has knocked over one to many stews," Remus smirked.

She tried to tell her as well she'd done enough, but Tonks waved her off and said she wanted to help while going to help Ginny get some cutlery out.

"I'm sensing that's the wrong place for her to be," James rolled his eyes, "more likely she should be set to some potatoes, least she can break those all she likes."

Soon the whole kitchen was busy with something, leaving Harry, Sirius, and Mundungus at the table.

Sirius still felt a flaring agitation rising in him, still pestered over this reunion.

Mundungus asked Harry if he'd seen Mrs. Figg lately, and Harry tartly replied he hadn't seen anyone. Mundungus spoke like Harry hadn't, saying he hadn't meant to leave his post, but there had been a really good business deal-

"Sirius dear, I need you to do me a favor and start strangling him again," Lily said almost pleasantly.

"I'm positive I'll be all too happy to," Sirius almost managed a cheerful look back at the thought.

Harry felt something brush against his knee as he stopped listening to him and glanced down to see Crookshanks. He twined once around Harry's legs before hopping into Sirius' lap, who began absentmindedly scratching him.

"I've missed hearing about that cat," Remus gave a light snicker. 

James just suppressed a smile as he imagined Harry looking down at exactly the wrong time. Mundungus bringing that up, and Sirius glaring at him would have been a precious thing described. Sadly the subject got changed in the next sentence before he got to hear of any such thing.

Sirius asked how Harry's summer had been?

Then Sirius flinched again, harder, as he'd already had to realize how dumb that question was, yet he couldn't have bothered to find out any point before now? What exactly had he been so busy doing to not have done so?

Harry just grumbled how lousy it had been, making a grin flit across Sirius' face.

"So glad you find that funny," Harry happily poked fun, while the others all listened curiously to see just what about that had made Sirius act even a smidge more normal at laughing at anything.

Sirius told Harry he had nothing to be complaining about, he'd welcome a dementor attack.

James could not read that without a nasty catch in his throat, hoping beyond everything his best friend was kidding about that part, as Sirius still flinched at the thought of what those foul demons were going to be doing to his future. Sirius making light of this was entirely his Padfoot though, so he read on with more enthusiasm than he would have thought.

A deadly struggle for his soul would have broken the monotony nicely.

"Sirius," Lily began dangerously, clearly saying she'd switch that threat of violence to him in a heartbeat if she heard of anymore fool headed moves on his part.

At least Harry had been allowed out of the house, he'd been stuck in here for a month.

"I, what?" Sirius demanded, feeling like his heart had just dropped down into his stomach. This couldn't really mean what he was thinking...

Harry asked why, and Sirius explained that the Ministry was still after him, and Voldemort knew all about his Animagus disguise.

"But, all of that was true last year too, and you were getting around just fine!" Remus snapped, trying to pretend he hadn't watched James go the worst shade of red at having to be reminded who their friend was sharing all of their secrets with.

So there wasn't much use he could do for the Order, so Dumbledore seemed to feel.

There was a deadly moment of silence where everyone just sat there for a moment and gaped at what Sirius had just implied he'd been up to. No, he hadn't really-

Sirius' temper snapped. The shouting they'd all been expecting before to come up when faced with his mother finally seemed to have tantamount as past memories blocked out everything and he began shouting, "I can't decide who I hate worse right now, the rat for my name still being smeared, or Dumbledore! HE PUT ME IN WHERE!?"

His voice may have ruptured to stop him from continuing, that or he actually realized the baby was crying fiercely now, either way he forced himself to stop that and instead got to his feet and began stamping more than pacing across the room in frustration.

"Sirius-" Someone tried to say, but he didn't even take note of it as he kept going in a forced lesser volume, "it's damn near as bad as if I'd been locked into Azkaban all over again, there's no way I'm actually-" he cut himself off that time though, because in some nasty twisted way it did explain his behavior so far. If Dumbledore had actually convinced him to stay in that house for his safety, than he would be in the worst mood of his life the whole time there, it's no wonder Harry's problems were falling to his wayside, he had trouble thinking of anything else now when he wasn't in that place, but trapped back in those dank walls and he'd be a bottomless pit of self pity.

"Listen Padfoot," James insisted over his still fussy child, who was now making more noise than Sirius, but Lily refused to leave the room this time as she kept soothing him patiently and keeping an eye on Sirius. "Dumbledore's insane for thinking that's what you should do, and Merlin it's a twist of irony you've actually seemed to listen to him in doing it, but I think you're forgetting something really important."

"What?" He barked like a snapping animal.

"It's not happening to you now. You never have to go back there again if you don't want to. Deep breaths Pads, I promise Dumbledore will rue the day he decided to do this to you."

"Rue?" Remus asked more to change the subject than anything. "Look at you using big kid words."

James theatrically pouted at him, while Sirius sighed but at least stopped shouting for now, and so had the baby. James still kept watching Sirius carefully as he went grumpily back to his seat, but when it became clear he was the holdup Sirius just waved him on, though now he looked more likely than Lily to be strangling a certain someone soon, and it wasn't Mundungus anymore.

The tight way Sirius said Harry's headmaster's name made it very clear Sirius had just as many bad thoughts about Dumbledore as Harry lately, and he felt a sudden upsurge of affection for his godfather.

"Mutual hatred of someone will do wonders to bring two people closer together," James gave an awkward smile in agreement, his thoughts on Snape and how for so many years four people had spent their lives hating his every step. Now one of them was on the same side as him.

He still tried to encourage at least Sirius was in the know, but Sirius corrected that sitting around listening to Snape's reports

"That is actual torture," Remus declared.

"I'll be lucky if I don't go mad and murder everyone in the room next time," Sirius agreed.

and all his snide comments was hardly riveting news, especially as he kept making cracks about Sirius lazing on his backside, asking about the cleaning.

Harry wondered if Sirius had known at the time he sounded exactly like his father did upon reading that, then he felt his spirits sink that much lower as Harry kept realizing that with every minute he valued getting to watch James do anything, his Sirius probably missed his brother double.

Harry asked what that meant, and Sirius explained they were trying to make this place fit for human habitation again, it had been abandoned for ten years,

"Ten years eh?" Sirius muttered absently, trying to draw the timeframe in his head, but since he honestly had no clue of who died first, his parents or Regulus, it still wasn't helping anything.

and some nasty stuff had taken to breeding in here.

Mundungus, who hadn't been listening to a word, suddenly cut in towards Sirius that the goblet he was holding was solid silver.

Harry felt a sudden flash of violence overtake him, some memory trying to bubble right to the surface of his strangling Mundungus-

"I can see what his attention was just so riveted on," Lily snarked.

"Trust Mundungus to try filching something from that house," Sirius said with an actual touch of indulgence though, he'd help loot the place for the man even while holding some burning violence for him.

Sirius disdainfully agreed it was a fine piece of fifteenth century goblin-wrought silver with the Black crest and everything.

Mundungus muttered to himself that bit would come off though.

"Why would he want it to?" Remus asked in honest confusion. "Wouldn't it be worth more with that crest in place, proving its pureblood usage."

"Depends on what Dung's using it for I guess," Sirius shrugged without care.

They were all interrupted by Molly's shriek at the twins just to carry it!

James could already feel a touch of indulgence replacing his lackluster mood at Sirius' future problems, the twins always had made him feel better though and this sounded like something right out of his late teen years.

The three at the table only just managed to look up in time, and jump away from the table.

The twins had tried to enchant a cauldron of soup, a flagon of Butterbeer, and a wooden board holding a loaf of bread complete with knife soaring towards the table. Too enthusiastically though, as the soup skidded the length of the table leaving black marks and only just not falling off the edge, the Butterbeer really did fall with a crash, and the knife slipped right off the board and soared point blank into the table where Sirius' hand had just been.

Harry had to swallow very hard around the boy's sudden laughter, that felt like a bad omen to him.

Molly was telling her kids off already in shouting tones about how just because they were of age now did not mean they had to whip their wands out for everything!

James wasn't shouting that too loud considering his infant was still being rather fidgety in his mother's arms, but the tone was clear in his voice and they were all giggling now as none of them would deny they had been the same way after they'd turned seventeen.

Fred was trying to ignore his mother by hurrying forward and apologizing to Sirius while wrenching the knife out of the table, but both he and Harry were to busy laughing to notice.

"Good to know some things don't change," Sirius muttered as he brushed some hair back out of his face and grinned at Harry who'd quickly forced himself to ignore his moment and had indeed been laughing along.

Crookshanks had been startled so bad he'd darted under a dresser.

Arthur was trying to agree with his wife that now they were of age they should be showing more responsibility-

"Parents always think you're supposed to be responsible no matter what age you're at," James sighed.

while Mrs. Weasley cut in that none of their brothers caused this much trouble!

Lily winced as she heard that again, how she wished Molly would quit badgering those boys about being like their siblings, it couldn't be good for any of them to always be compared to each other, she still remembered how Ron had been on that first train ride and how badly it had shown him being looked over when it came to his fourth year.

She slammed a fresh flagon of Butterbeer on to the table, and spilled almost as much again.

"I'm sure that got her point across better," Remus snorted.

All while yelling Bill hadn't felt the need to Apparate every few feet!

"But Percy apparently did, and no one was yelling at him for that," James huffed.

"I don't buy that for a second," Harry muttered to himself, thinking of how Bill's very look screamed he didn't like abiding by normal standards and enjoyed his reckless moments.

Charlie hadn't charmed everything he met!

"Charlie clearly needs some fun tips then," Lily smiled to herself.

Percy -

James voice broke with a sharp hiss of frustration even before he found out how the guys own parents reacted. He didn't care if he had no personal relation to Percy himself, he now couldn't help picturing that little shit of a Weasley in as foul a way as possible.

She stopped dead, catching her breath with a frightened look at her husband, whose expression was suddenly wooden.

Lily felt herself wobbling and tucking her child that much closer to her as it hurt to picture such a thing happening to those parents.

Bill jumped in by saying he was hungry, and Lupin swiftly agreed the stew looked delicious as he tried loading a plate to hand to her.

"I see why the Order's still keeping you around," Sirius nodded to himself, "least you can still manage to change the subject slick as butter."

For a few minutes there was silence but for the chink of plates and cutlery and the scraping of chairs as everyone settled down to their food.

Harry gave a sad sigh as he wondered if Percy would be proud of himself for creating such an awkward silence at just the mention of his name.

Then Mrs. Weasley turned to Sirius.

"Oh boy," they all muttered, as Sirius wasn't being at his most pleasant around them while in mention of that house, but around someone he'd shown not a spot of like for inside it, this could turn ugly fast.

She brought up that there was an odd rattling in the writing desk upstairs,

"And she's telling you this, because?" Remus asked with honest amusement.

"Wants to know the best spell to set it on fire?" Sirius shrugged carelessly.

it could just be a Boggart, but she'd rather have Mad-Eye check it before they opened it.

Harry suddenly blinked in utter fascination at the idea as he turned to Remus and asked, "you said a Boggart could read your mind and automatically turn into the thing you fear most, but could it do that if it doesn't realize Moody's looking at it? What do Boggarts look like when no one's around?"

"No one knows a Boggarts true form," Remus reminded, "not even Moody. Most likely it's just hiding as something already to fear you, and the person who did get closest to it could still manage to transform and scare them before they'd cast it off."

Harry was still trying to picture Moody being afraid of anything a Boggart could turn into as a laughable idea, but still the idea of that Boggart bothered him for some reason, like it did scare someone.

Sirius indifferently agreed, while Molly moved on to talking about some curtains full of Doxys and how they should tackle that tomorrow.

"I wouldn't let Sirius anywhere near anything in that place without taking his wand away, and that's too dangerous as well," James shook his head at Molly. "Just what makes her think it's a good idea to let Sirius help try and clean anything?"

Sirius just wasn't in the mood to respond back and keep playing this off like a joke, the thought of that room like every other dragging up some haunting memories he'd done a good job of burying over the years, this one in particular being the time his dad had given him a week long lecture on the dark creatures of the world and what Sirius was expected to do if he ever met them, not a pleasant reminder while sitting next to Moony.

Sirius stated he looked forward to it, while Harry wondered if he was the only one finding sarcasm in that.

"I can't imagine it was hardly disguised," Lily muttered, Sirius had never done a good job of hiding any feelings.

Opposite him, Tonks was entertaining Hermione and Ginny by changing her nose between bites.

This was so randomly unexpected James had to stifle a giggle before going on, and then read slightly louder over the others still doing so.

Even as Harry looked it extended into a long beak-like protuberance that resembled Snape.

"If she has never done that to his face, I will pay that woman my weight in gold this instant to do it now," Sirius managed to get out in between laughter.

"No, no, you're not thinking hard enough," Remus instructed with a smirk, "she's supposed to be doing it behind his back in the Order meetings while he's not looking."

James actually had to stop to catch his breath back from laughing so hard, while Lily rolled her eyes and was beginning to think Tonks really would fit into this bunch a little too well.

Then she took another bite, and it shrank down to a button. Apparently this was a regular mealtime show, as Hermione and Ginny began asking for favorites.

"This really is fascinating," Lily grinned the more she realized how flexible Tonks's ability was outside of a text describing it.

One asked for a pig snout, and when she was done Harry had the impression of looking at a female Dudley.

"Urgh, as if the original version wasn't vile enough," James chuckled.

Mr. Weasley, Bill and Lupin were having an intense discussion on about goblins.

"Think I'd rather go back hearing about Tonks noses," Remus huffed quietly to himself, which Sirius still heard and rolled his eyes at, hoping Moony wasn't going to be like this every time he was mentioned, and completely ignoring the fact that he had been the same lately.

Bill was talking about how they were giving nothing away, no one could work out whose side they were on. They could just be staying neutral.

"That's what they're doing now," Lily agreed.

Mr. Weasley didn't believe they'd really join You-Know-Who, he'd wronged them too much, reminding them of that goblin family in Nottingham.

"Has that happened yet?" James asked in confusion, though after a while all of the deaths really started blurring together.

"I think Sturgis was actually doing some looking into that area," Remus nodded to himself, "he mentioned it last time, so maybe, or it's just fixing to."

"Must be a big name in the goblin community to still be remembered so vividly," Lily said sadly, as normally wizards were horrible about keeping track of other creatures history.

Lupin countered it all depended on what they were offered. If Voldemort was promising freedoms wizards were denying them, they'd be tempted.

Remus muttered something under his breath about how that would tempt a lot more than goblins, but Sirius gave him a hard nudge to shut up that kind of talk.

Then asking Bill if he'd heard anything from Ragnok?

Bill sighed as he explained how anti wizard he was at the moment, he felt shorted because they'd never gotten back their gold from Bagman, claimed the Ministry was doing a cover up so they wouldn't get their dues.

"I'm sure no one got their gold back from Bagman," Lily scowled at the reminder of that, the twins in particular nearly having suffered a great fallback for it.

Laughter broke off the end of that though, from the rest of the Weasley's and Mundungus.

"Well at least this sounds far more entertaining," James grinned.

He was telling them a story about how he sold this guys nicked toads back to him for double the price.

James nearly couldn't finish to the end he was laughing so hard, though he really was the only one.

Lily still found him too annoying to laugh at such a stupid thing, and though Sirius normally would have he was on Lily's side for once. Remus still looked distant and distracted like he hadn't even realized they'd switched to another topic.

Mrs. Weasley cut him off saying they didn't need to be hearing stories about his business while Ron was slumped over the table laughing.

"At least someone's enjoying themselves," Harry sighed.

Mundungus apologized at once, but tried to offer that as the other guy had nicked them in the first place as well, Mundungus hadn't really been doing anything wrong.

"Can't fault his logic though," Sirius did nod in agreement to that, causing Lily to glare at him as she wished he was kidding.

Molly snapped back Mundungus must have missed a few crucial lessons on right and wrong then.

"Don't know what she's talking about," Remus snorted, "he's clearly looked them all up verbatim."

"So he can do them exactly wrong," James smirked.

Fred and George were keeping their faces out of sight, while Mrs. Weasley shot Sirius a nasty look at the end.

"Just what have you been up to regarding them?" James suddenly demanded eagerly.

Since the first time that place had come up, Sirius truly looked interested in the story again and waved James on eagerly in hopes he would at least find that out.

Then she got up to check on dessert, and Sirius informed Harry Molly didn't approve of Mundungus.

"So what's she glaring at you for then?" Remus asked in honest disappointment if that had been what that look was for.

"I most likely indulged him a lot before he skipped out on Harry," Sirius offered, "and maybe she didn't approve of the way I handled him when he came to tell us."

"Can't imagine that's it," Lily scoffed, "since I can all to easily picture Molly wanting to throw a swing as well."

Harry asked why he was even in the Order, and Sirius explained that he was a useful crook, very loyal to Dumbledore, knows a lot of the underbelly information that came in handy. Molly in particular disliked him because he'd skived off on his tailing duty of Harry.

"I'm positive she's not the only one," Sirius sniffed, even if he was still on Harry's side he should have known about it, it didn't negate that Dung hadn't been doing his job.

Lily was frowning to herself for a different reason, thinking that it technically was Sirius' house and Molly shouldn't be shooting looks at him for having anyone stay over. She did wonder at Sirius' motives behind this, but she knew that he didn't know now.

Three helpings of food later and Harry's pants were beginning to feel a bit tight, quite an accomplishment as they used to be Dudleys.

"Probably back from when he was single digits though," Harry corrected with a slight snort.

He was starting to feel a bit sleepy, and clearly so was the rest of the table.

Just as Molly was encouraging them all to head that way though, Sirius turned to Harry and said how surprised he was, he'd expected him to demand answers about Voldemort the moment he'd stepped in here.

They all burst out laughing at that one, though Harry blushed vividly as he was again reminded who he had demanded those answers from, very vocally.

The atmosphere in the room changed with the rapidity Harry associated with the arrival of Dementors.

"You sure do have the best timing Padfoot," Remus muttered.

Harry agreed he had, but his friends had told him the Order wasn't telling so-

Molly cut him off that was exactly right, he was too young.

Lily flushed in agitation at Molly saying that for her son. It should be Sirius' decision, and more than that, it should be hers to decide what Harry knew at what age. She wasn't the only one scowling hatefully for that comment, but somehow it hurt her the worst that she watched Harry flush with a new embarrassment as his eyes flickered from her and away again almost shamefully, like he'd just been wondering if his mum would say the same.

Sirius asked back since when did you have to be in the Order to be asking questions?

George interrupted loudly to demand of where this attitude had come from? While Fred agreed they'd been trying to get Sirius to tell them for a month and he hadn't shared a thing!

"Honestly Sirius, I think I'm impressed with your restraint," Lily seemed the only one who was surprised though.

James now looked offended for his mate as he said, "Sirius knows better than to get between a mum and her kids. Molly probably asked Sirius specifically not to say anything to them and he knows to respect that."

Lily looked chagrined enough Sirius didn't even bother to smirk at her, much.

Fred mimicked his mother near perfectly about how they were too young to be in the Order.

"They've always seemed rather good at their impressions," Remus muttered randomly as he shifted uneasily in his seat, he could already feel a fight breaking out and he wasn't even in the room for it.

Sirius returned it wasn't his fault what his parents decided to share, but Harry-

Molly cut across it wasn't his decision either!

"Hey!" Sirius barked in outrage.

"He's the only one who should get to decide," James agreed dangerously. He'd spent hours now hating the world that left Sirius the one doing so, but he'd had to come to the acceptance of it all the same. Who was Molly to be saying anything otherwise?! Harry was just a friend of one of her kids!

Her normally kind face was looking dangerous as she reminded Sirius of what Dumbledore had said.

"He's less of a right than Sirius!" Lily sneered back, looking quite dangerous herself Harry noted. "Who's Dumbledore to be telling Sirius anything to do with Harry? Merlin, we left Sirius as Harry's Godfather, and even if it's not recognized because of that stupid bloody thing everyone thinks he did, those who do know better should respect it!"

Sirius asked her of which part with the air of bracing himself for a fight.

Molly shot back the part about telling Harry more than he needed to know.

"Dumbledore needs to get a grip on what he thinks everyone needs to know," Remus snapped hatefully. First trying to keep Harry at such a terrible place he didn't want to be at, now trying to enforce Sirius do his dirty work as well, where did the man think he got the right to control them like this?

Almost everyone was watching the pair like a tennis rally.

"I imagine this would be quite a show under most circumstances," James muttered as he was honestly having a bit of a hard time picturing it. Someone they'd never even really met arguing with his best friend about the circumstances of how much his infant son should know about the Order while he wasn't even in the picture.

Lupin's eyes were fixed only on Sirius.

Sirius came a second too close to snapping, 'thanks for the backup Moony,' but managed to stop himself just in time as it really wasn't fair to be turning his temper on him now when he had just snapped in agreement with him. At least his friend Remus was still acting the same as he should be, whereas they'd still yet to see their friend really taking on his normal roll of anything regarding Sirius or Harry in this twisted future.

Sirius said back he wasn't going to be saying more than needed to be known, but Harry was the one who saw Voldemort come back, (ignoring as always the shiver that passed everyone except Harry, Remus, and Sirius at the mention of that name,) and Harry had more a right than anyone-

Molly cut him off he was only fifteen!

"Don't you cut him off just because he's making a good point," James muttered petulantly.

Sirius instantly snapped back he'd dealt with just as much as the Order at that age!

Harry couldn't stop a soft little smile creeping across his face for that. He hadn't even spoken those words to Sirius, and yet his godfather really did seem to know him so well as he'd said the same thing Harry had been thinking for a month.

Mrs. Weasley icily agreed no one was denying what he'd done, but-

Sirius cut her off to remind he wasn't a child!

Molly snapped right back he wasn't an adult either, he wasn't James!

Sirius looked like he'd just been kicked in the sack. What exactly had he been saying for Molly to insinuate that? Had he really lost a chunk of his mind in Azkaban to really not be able to tell the difference between them sometimes? Sure they looked a lot the same, but he wouldn't really-

James's face had been steadily growing more red the more he got out of Molly talking to his brother like that, but the moment he realized she'd just shot the lowest of blows at him he switched to several shades too pale for his normal coloring and stated in a flat, cold voice, "Molly just lost any of my respect."

"Dad!" Harry yelped defensively at once. He couldn't say he was pleased at Molly's coddling of him in this moment, but that was too far for him of someone he cared deeply for.

"I'm not going to let her get away with talking to him like that," James vowed without a change in expression. "Not after all he's been through, what he's still going through."

Harry glanced around beseechingly, but he didn't see anyone who didn't disagree with James. Harry winced as he did admit that Mrs. Weasley had crossed a line with that remark, but Harry still wished they'd cut her some slack as she was speaking out of anger and clearly trying to look out for him even if it was in the wrong way.

Sirius said back flatly he was perfectly clear who Harry was.

Sirius wished he had that same confidence in his future self. Despite how warmed he was James was using that icy tone, that no one in here had even thought to question the remark besides him, he honestly wondered if it was needed as Sirius wasn't as convinced that he wasn't just a bit loose around the edges, if maybe he did sometimes get the two swapped. He'd like to think he never got that bad, but well, twelve years was a long time, and he'd be wishing he had James back now more than ever in that hated place...

Molly said she wasn't as sure, the way he went on sometimes it was as if he thought he had his best friend back.

Remus suddenly realized they were the only ones enraged over this, and that in fact Sirius was trying to burrow himself into his seat and not looking at anyone, but instead seemed almost guilty of his future actions. James was too distracted by half reading, and half forcing himself not to shout as Remus leaned in to whisper, "Sirius mate, you know that's not happening to you, it never could."

Sirius only nodded as answer, and while he'd have liked more, Remus let it go for now.

Sirius should know that Harry was still in school and be responsible enough not to forget it.

Sirius demanded back, his voice rising with every word, that she was implying he was an irresponsible godfather?

Lily had said a lot about Sirius before, but never that, and she was right behind whatever nasty retorts James was interlacing as he forced himself to keep going.

Molly said it meant Sirius had been known to act rashly, which was exactly why Dumbledore was making him stay at home.

"I'm going to kill Dumbledore doing that to you!" James finally broke and yelled that bit, regretting it instantly as it only started his son crying again. Giving the book a nasty toss aside, he took him from Lily and cradled him in his arms for a moment to calm himself as much as his baby it seemed. "Don't," he said without looking up when he'd seen Harry moving out of the corner of his eye. "I'll get it in a second, just let me," he took a deep breath as he kept his baby to him for an extra second, but now the child had calmed himself back down he didn't seem to want to move again as he nestled into the crook of James's neck. Sighing with content, he managed to keep him there while summoning the book back to him, and managed to keep hold of both while forcing himself to keep going. At least now he couldn't lose his temper.

Molly turned on her husband then for backup, but Arthur took his sweet time in answering that now Harry was here, he should know some things.

Mrs. Weasley snarled back there was a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he wanted.

"I'm still struggling to understand where she feels she gets the right to say anything regarding Harry," Remus snarled under his breath as he massaged his temple.

Lupin cut in then, while Molly looked to him almost hopefully like she thought she now had an ally,

"Remus, if you actually agree with her on this, I will hold you down myself and watch them take your head off," Lily promised.

Remus just nodded silently, knowing he wouldn't fight back. If he really had changed so much he'd side with her over Sirius, then there wasn't anything left of his Marauder heritage. It didn't even matter if he disagreed with Sirius, he should stand by him anyways to her face.

but all he said was that Harry should be given the general picture from them rather than, other means. His tone made it obvious he was aware a few Extendable Ears were still around.

"There's my Moony still in there," James at least seemed to approve of this answer.

Molly was breathing heavily as she glared at everyone, giving in at last, but saying that Dumbledore had his best intentions in trying to prevent this.

Sirius bit back he wasn't her son!

Molly shot right back he was as good as.

Sirius felt a burn vanishing all his ire at her. Suddenly another woman flashed across his mind, of Euphemia Potter saying the same thing about him so many years ago now. He'd realized the Weasley's had unofficially adopted Harry, he just hadn't realized how much it paralleled his own family with the Potters. He hadn't even really been the one so angry with her right now, to worried for his own state of mind and what he could have been seeing while Harry wasn't there, and now he was confident he really couldn't say a word against her. Not after he now saw those fierce hazel eyes claiming him as Molly had just done for Harry.

Demanding who else he had?

"The fact that she even needs to ask," Lily's harsh tone came out muffled through her gritted teeth. She'd hated that sting of replacement several times now, but none worse than this where Molly was actively trying to block Sirius from doing his job, what Lily honestly wouldn't even be doing in that moment was hurting so bad she never could have imagined this feeling.

Sirius bitterly reminded he had him!

Molly's lip curled meanly as she reminded he hadn't been doing much good in Azkaban before now.

James couldn't actually allow his temper to snap again with his little charge nodding off while still trying to hold onto conscious trying to catch at his father's flyaway hair, so it just wasn't as satisfying watching Lily and Remus look ready to deck her any second like he knew he wanted to. It was least helpful of all Harry, nor Sirius were on the same boat, both were watching the three of them almost pitifully, though neither risking saying anything to the contrary it was clear they didn't fully agree. James didn't understand how Sirius could be so on this woman's side right now, how he wasn't the angriest of them all, and he would demand answers from him once his kid fell asleep and they had a real excuse to pause, but for now he forced himself to read past that moment that shouldn't exist.

Sirius began rising from his seat, but Lupin cut across both of them Molly wasn't the only one at this table who cared about Harry, and for Sirius to sit down.

"Not one word Sirius, or I'll mute you," Remus promised, his eyes still flashing dangerously as Sirius looked to try cracking a dog joke at a time like this.

Mrs. Weasley was still trembling with fury, while Sirius had to slowly force himself to retake his seat. **

Then Lupin turned to Harry and said he should have a say in this.

"Do you really think he'd say anything against Sirius' side?" James forced himself to ask slowly and calmly, better than starting to shoot curses at someone who wasn't here.

"No, but it was still a valid point," Remus huffed without looking at him, his eyes still focused dangerously on the book. Remus was really wishing that instead of telling Sirius to cool it, he was instead ripping Molly a new one for bringing that up.

Harry instantly agreed he wanted to be told what was going on. He did not look at Mrs. Weasley as he said this, too touched by her saying he was as good as her son, but also impatient with her mollycoddling. He wasn't a child.

Mrs. Weasley's voice cracked as she turned on her own kids plus Hermione, telling them to get out.

"Again, I am going to point out, where does she have the say to be telling Hermione anything," Lily hissed, far past caring she hadn't said much coherent besides that lately, this woman was pushing every last one of her buttons. "It should be up to her own parents to decide!"

Harry honestly felt like maybe Mrs. Weasley could claim there, as perhaps the Grangers had left Mrs. Weasley in charge of their daughter and what all she could know, but that was an honest guess as he had no clue of Hermione's parents relationship with anyone. He was honestly just trying to think of any defense for someone who'd touched him so deeply, but he still couldn't bring himself to undermine his own mother.

Fred and George shouted back at once they were of age, while Ron demanded if Harry could why couldn't he?

"Sadly, the parents original points against their own children still stand," Sirius said under his breath, clearly the only one going to do so, though he had no doubts all those being removed would pounce on Harry the moment he was alone.

While all Ginny could protest was that she wanted to stay.

"Poor Ginny really doesn't have any kind of excuse," Sirius muttered absently.

Mrs. Weasley began forbidding any such thing, but again Arthur cut her off, saying the twins were of age and could hear at least this.

"I- he couldn't have said that when they'd be saying that all summer! Why does he cut in now to back them up?" Lily balked at the randomness of this.

"I suppose Mr. Weasley still wouldn't let them into the Order meetings, but now when I'm hopefully just going to get a few questions answered, he thought that was okay than whatever the twins were trying to ask," Harry offered.

Molly was going scarlet as she forced herself to agree with this,

"Can't baby them all forever," Lily snapped grimly.

but then she tried to insist that Ron, but Ron cut her off it didn't matter, Harry would just tell him anyways, then suddenly he phrased it as a question as he looked at Harry.

"Now why did he ask you that?" James raised a still fuming brow. "Would have been much stronger if he'd thrown that out not as a question."

"Guess he thought I was still too pissed at him to hold his weight," Harry sighed as some pesky part of his mind snipped he just may not.

For a split second, Harry considered telling Ron that he wouldn't tell him a single word, that he could try a taste of being kept in the dark and see how he liked it.

"Ouch, Harry sure knows how to get his revenge point across," Remus winced as he watched Harry flinch at such a thing being spoken, he was not proud of that thought.

"I can't see him doing it," James said without looking up, "angry he is, but he's never been petty."

But the nasty impulse vanished as they looked at each other.

James nodded without surprise while Lily gave her son a pleased smile and Harry basked just for a moment in his parents happiness at that.

Mrs. Weasley entirely lost her temper as she shouted at Ginny to get to bed, now!

Ginny did not go quietly.

Harry gave a light chuckle to himself at that little spitfire, he had no doubts Ginny may well be clever enough to be going through the twins stuff the moment her mother was back out of sight and try to sneak back down with an Extendable Ear.

She stormed up the stairs and made such a racket Mrs. Black's ear splitting portrait began shrieking again, while Lupin ran off to restore calm to that.

"What he's usually best at," Sirius gave a half hearted smile that didn't match the still sour tone of the room.

Only when he returned next to Sirius did his godfather ask Harry what he wanted to know?

"I really do love how open ended you are with him," James forced a smile that felt like cracking plaster. At least he'd tried though, and it was as good as any attempt he could make at praising how Sirius was handling his son.

Harry took a deep breath and asked the question that had obsessed him for the last month.

Lily hummed as a stirring of emotions still bothered her for that being true, Dumbledore better show his white beard around soon to explain that mess, but listened eagerly to this news that should have long since been given to her son.

Where was Voldemort? What had he been doing? He'd been trying to find out through the Muggle news but couldn't find anything.

Sirius said that was because he hadn't been causing any funny deaths, as far as they knew, which was quite a lot.

More than he thought they did, Lupin added.

"Well that's nice at least," Remus tried, unintentionally Harry was sure, for the same smile he'd offered him that same night.

Harry asked why he'd stopped killing then, as Harry knew he had done so at least twice in the past year.

"Well don't say it like it's such a bad thing Harry," James muttered.

Sirius said it was because he was trying not to draw attention to himself, his comeback hadn't gone off as he'd wanted to, Lupin agreed Harry had messed it up for him with a satisfied smile.

"Well at least someone's having fun with this," Lily almost managed a smirk for Harry's now bewildered face.

Harry asked how, and Sirius reminded he wasn't supposed to have survived.

"But I'm glad you did by the way," Sirius inserted as James's small face twitch showed Sirius hadn't at the time.

Nobody apart from his Death Eaters was supposed to know, but Harry had come back and instantly informed Dumbledore.

Harry asked how that had been helpful, and Bill reminded that You-Know-Who was only scared of one person, the very same Dumbledore. While Sirius added that thanks to Harry, Dumbledore had managed to recall the Order of the Phoenix in an hour after Voldemort's return.

"That really is some brilliant timing though," James really did smile this time. "If we'd been able to do that the first time around, I'm actually positive far more lives could be saved, a lot more could be done to cramp him up more often."

"It's not the one with the most pieces, but the one with the most knowledge," Remus agreed while both his friends rolled their eyes at him and his word wisdom talk again.

Harry asked what the Order had been doing then?

Sirius said they'd been trying to work against Voldemort carrying out his plans, which Harry interrupted to ask how they knew what those were.

"I thought that you put that one together yourself," Lily reminded Harry of his last year and watching Dumbledore give Sirius those orders.

"I was still aiming for more specifics than my guessing," Harry defended.

Lupin told that Dumbledore had a shrewd idea, and Dumbledore's ideas were normally accurate.

"I do like how you sidestepped actually giving an answer to that," Sirius told him sarcastically.

While Harry asked what Dumbledore's idea was then?

"And Harry fell for it," James said tragically, he'd have never let Moony get away with that.

Sirius said that first of all, Voldemort was trying to get his numbers back up. He used to have countless witches and wizards he'd bullied and bewitched to work for him, plus a plethora of Dark creatures.

Remus tried his hardest to smother the flinch that gave him, he really hated his job for the Order and had no delusions he'd pick back up on it for Dumbledore's orders.

He wasn't going to try taking on the Ministry with a handful of Death Eaters.

Harry watched those around him smile without humor at the idea, but then why did he get a nasty little pit swelling inside of him at the idea of that?

So they were trying to make people aware Voldemort was back to keep them on guard, they'd be less of a target for Voldemort that way, but it was proving tricky.

Harry asked why, and Tonks explained it was Cornelius Fudge.

"Still can not wrap my head around anyone being that dense," James muttered in disgust as his infants heavy breathing began lightly filling his ears, at least encouraging him to keep a gentle volume even while referring back to something he hated.

Harry tried to ask why he was being so stupid, while Arthur said it all boiled down to Dumbledore.

Tonks agreed Fudge was frightened of him.

"He's what now?" Lily demanded like she thought James was playing a joke.

Arthur added on frightened of what Dumbledore was up to.

"He's up to trying to save your useless arses," Remus still had his head cocked to the side as he tried to find any other way to interpret this news and coming up short.

Fudge thinks Dumbledore's plotting to overthrow him.

There was a moment of silence where you could hear crickets chirping in the background after the stupidity of that statement. None of the others could even think to add anything onto it, and James had to remember how to get past such a new level of stupid to even keep going.

He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister of Magic.

"But he doesn't," Remus said slowly and clearly, trying to form a proper sentence again. "If he did, he'd have done it ages ago."

"I think Fudge and Vernon could form their own group of idiots, but they're too dense to understand how to put together the meeting," Sirius muttered.

Harry tried to say Dumbledore didn't want, while Arthur agreed everyone knew Dumbledore didn't want the job, even though a lot of people had told him he should take it after Millicent Bagnold had retired.

"I'd still take her over this dunderhead any day," Lily sniffed, "pull her out of retirement or something, please!"

Fudge had never forgotten though how popular Dumbledore was when he took office, even if deep down he knew how much more clever than him Dumbledore was and how back in the early days he'd been asking for Dumbledore's help with his new position all the time.

"I would so love to pay someone to follow him around and try to at least get him to admit that though," James huffed.

He was now enjoying his new power too much, and he'd convinced himself Dumbledore was making this all up to cause trouble.

"That doesn't even make sense, about anything!" Lily still insisted as if hoping repeating this enough would make anyone see sense.

Harry was getting angry now as he asked how anyone could think that, that Harry would make it all up?

"Fudge was there when you, when-" Lily had to swallow hard to phrase that without crying from remembrance of what her son had been through, "outside that maze. There just isn't a way possible he could explain that away!"

"Apparently deniability stretches so far it can block even the worst of memories, I almost envy him," Remus stated.

Sirius explained that if he accepted Voldemort was back, it would put the Ministry in a state of fear they hadn't had to cope with in fourteen years.

"Just because you're pretending it's not happening doesn't mean it's not," James felt a growl building in his throat as he got that out, but the vibrating was already stirring his restless charge and he forced himself to temper off.

Lupin switched back to explaining the problem with the Ministry denying Voldemort's return, it put the rest of the populace in a dangerous position of being made unaware anything was happening, leaving them all vulnerable to the Imperius Curse for starters.

Harry felt a shiver creep up his spine at that idea of so many left unprotected, all the damage Fudge was doing to countless people just because he was afraid. Harry had now seen fear do so many things to people, and yet he still couldn't imagine acting in those same ways.

Harry looked around the table beseechingly as he asked if anyone was telling?

Sirius gave a humorless smile as he reminded that with a ten thousand galleon price on his head,

"Really? That was actually more than I was expecting. You think if- ouch!" He yelped as Remus smacked him hard for making light of that.

he could hardly stroll around the street handing out fliers.

"Oh but it would be so much more interesting if I did," Sirius persisted, trying to duck around Moony's swinging hand now, "what better impact than- ouch, Lily!"

Her eyes flashed, threatening to use worse than a stinging hex on him if he kept poking fun at this while his friends still adopted fear filled looks at any mention of it. Sirius honestly just did because it made him feel better to pretend this was funny than be reminded who had put him in this situation, but held his tongue back nonetheless in hopes the subject would just be changed off of him.

Lupin added next that he was not a popular dinner guest, as being a werewolf tended to be an occupational hazard.

"Remus," James began in agitation.

"What? I'm not wrong," he shot back at once with his arms crossed.

"We still hate the way you phrase that," Lily snipped at him, while he rolled his eyes at the lot of them. There really wasn't a nice way to say it, though they all tried to pretend otherwise.

Harry was just gazing sadly at Remus for a moment as an extra surge of hatred flashed for Snape, Skeeter, and everyone else who had been making Remus' name so public of late. It's no wonder if he'd been doing worse since he'd left Hogwarts, he clearly had a hard life without people automatically reacting to his name.

Sirius added on for them that Tonks and Arthur would get fired if they tried anything, and they needed people inside the Ministry they could trust.

They have managed to convince a few though, Arthur added on, Tonks and Kingsley for instance. Kingsley in particular was useful to have on their side, as he was leading the hunt for Sirius.

James had to cut off his snort of amusement with a small cough instead as he turned worried eyes on Sirius, though at least his best friend tried to play that off as a joke again. "Now I wonder how that meeting went? Would really hope I sat in on that one, though do you think it's too much to ask Kingsley to start spreading word of just how dumb it is to be looking for me at all?"

"Well my liking for Kingsley just went up tenfold," Remus muttered.

He'd instead been giving false information that Sirius was in Tibet.

"Bleh, no way could I survive out there, I couldn't stand replacing my diet with yak milk."

"I am going to smack you," Lily promised him.

Harry began in confusion if no one was spreading word, but Sirius reminded about Dumbledore, and pointed out why he was in so much trouble with the Ministry lately.

"Ah," they all muttered, at least Dumbledore was doing something besides annoying the piss out of all of them.

He'd been going around telling anyone and everyone with a trace of fear that Voldemort was back, and the Ministry was trying to retaliate by discrediting him as an old man losing his grip. They'd already taken away his Chairmanship on the International Confederation of Wizards and had voted him out of his Chief Warlock position on the Wizengamot. They were even trying to take away his Order of Merlin, First Class.

"Can they actually take that away once it's given to you?" Harry frowned at a rather mean blow in his opinion.

"Only if they can prove he didn't rightfully earn it in the first place," James shrugged without much care.

Bill added on with a grin Dumbledore said he didn't care though so long as they didn't take him off his Chocolate Frog Card.

"That sounds like Dumbledore," Remus muttered almost wistfully, still half hoping to hear the return of the headmaster they knew and trusted rather than this control freak ruining both Harry and Sirius' life of late.

Arthur snipped at his son this wasn't a time for laughing,

"I think you all need a few good laughs," James mumbled pitifully, wondering when his friends had fallen out of that business, knowing it had happened at the point he'd stopped being around turning them into these cold, barely recognizable people.

if Dumbledore carried on in this way he'd wind up in Azkaban.

"I'm honestly not convinced that place could hold him," Lily said mostly to herself, "or more over, that they could get him there."

"Can't deny it would be a show to watch them try though," Remus sighed without any humor.

Harry stared oddly at them for a moment but was too distracted to really let that sink in.

Harry asked if Voldemort was recruiting for more Death Eaters, word was bound to get out that he was back then.

Sirius reminded Voldemort didn't exactly go door to door to do this.

"Yeah, he only did that to Crouch, and that didn't seem to work out too well for him," Sirius finished himself with a roll of his eyes, then went cross eyed as he realized what he did.

James was just ignoring him at this point.

He tricked, jinxed, and blackmailed them all as subtly as possible. He also had bigger plans than just that.

When Sirius hesitated, Harry pushed what else while Sirius and Lupin exchanged a look.

"Now you're asking the real questions," Lily said a bit eagerly, her boys reacting that way must mean Harry was starting to scratch at what supposedly was too much information.

Sirius began slowly and carefully that it was something he could only get by stealth.

Harry automatically guessed it was a weapon, adding on he didn't have it last time?

Sirius agreed, and Harry wanted to know if it was more powerful than the most deadly curse, but Mrs. Weasley broke in that was enough!

"Damn that woman!" Sirius barked in frustration, causing all of them to jump, though thankfully the baby slept on. "If I want to tell Harry every little detail, would you just let me get on with it."

"You're just pissed because she cut in at the good part," Harry softly rebuked.

Sirius shrugged as he wasn't going to deny that while the others were just happy to see their normal Sirius again agreeing with them.

Harry hadn't realized she'd come back, but she marched into the full room again and snapped at every last one of them they'd heard enough, now get to bed.

Fred began protesting she couldn't boss them-

"Actually, I'm sure she can right to your own place," Lily muttered tersely, in no mood to defend her, especially to the twins, but that one had come out on impulse.

she snapped back he was going to watch her do it. Then she turned still burning eyes on Sirius and said Harry had been told enough, any more and he may as well be inducted into the Order.

"Please, please just ignore her and keep right on going," Remus placed his hands together and actually pleaded, there was no way she could actually cut off there when that had been a real answer for once!

Harry instantly agreed to the idea, but the word no was spoken sharply again, this time by Lupin.

"Remus James Lupin, I am renouncing your middle name just for that," James huffed at him, though his eyes were too dark for the joke, it was clear he didn't actually find it funny Moony had switched sides.

"You know I hate it when you call me that you twit," Remus huffed, though there was no force to his return, he felt bad himself like he'd give himself a good smack as well.

"Exactly why he did it," Sirius pointed out as he slumped back into his seat with a pout.

Remus turned on him and was fixing to start a snip right back, but Lily cut them off by telling them to hush so that James could hopefully find out just a little bit more.

The Order was only comprised of those overage, and had left school, he finished with a look at the twins.

"Honestly I don't see why though," Remus butted in, whether to keep in his friends good graces or honestly meaning it they weren't sure. Honestly it was just a sight to watch him argue with himself for a moment no one was going to stop him. "I think some spies in school would be just as useful, could surprise the lot of them how much you learn in that castle."

"Well I won't say I'm not pleased they haven't stepped that far yet," Lily rolled her eyes, thinking telling Harry these things was one thing, but actually going full through with making him an official member and expecting him to do work for them while in school really was pushing it. There did still have to be some priorities.

Then he turned to Sirius and told Molly was right, they'd said enough.

Sirius just shrugged and didn't argue.

James's face puckered as he honestly struggled to imagine that. Not his Padfoot, who had to be almost physically restrained from backing down from any fight, who only did so while still grumbling that he hadn't gotten his last say in like he was still doing now for his and Remus' tiff. The dynamic between Remus and Sirius' friendship had clearly changed just as much as the two themselves, and James was sick of hearing about these strangers passing as his friends.

Mrs. Weasley beckoned imperiously to her sons and Hermione. One by one they stood up and Harry, recognizing defeat, followed suit.

"Chapter's done," James announced as he gave the book another careless toss away, and got up to put his infant down for a proper nap.

HPHPHPHP

There's a lot of Molly lovers, and a lot of Molly haters, and most of them all center around this chapter. Really, like with Ron in the last book, there's no way to make everyone happy, but I do hope you enjoyed this chapter and what I ultimately had them all feeling for her. I won't deny this chapter truly did annoy me, as Sirius is given so much crap from Molly and Dumbledore telling him how to treat Harry when in every way possible it should be Sirius' decision. This will be the worst of what's said about her, I did promise and I will never break that promise that this'll never hit bashing territory for any character. Everyone gets a fair shake with me, as everyone does have their high and low points.

* You know, I'm actually not sure what that is supposed to be. Probably is something random we're just never told about. I kicked around a few ideas, like the Ministry for one though I can't come up with a reason why they'd need building plans for that place since people from the Ministry work there, but I suppose it could be documents of the Department of Mysteries, but I honestly doubt those plans exist and no one of the Order's been inside there, so I'd love some suggestions of other places those plans could be.

**I'm aware that Sirius technically was 'the first of thirteen to rise and so the first to die,' in that moment, but honestly it'll never be brought up by my characters as they won't be digging past the moment to realize that. Just something fun I enjoyed seeing someone point out once.

[lonestarbabe]

Saving The Child Inside

Chapter 1: Unsettled New Normal

[AO3]

Growing up as Sam Avery's son wasn't easy for TK. His abusive upbringing left him with a wealth of trauma that he couldn't bring himself to face, even as an adult, but for all the bad, TK's life in Austin brought him a lot of good. He married his high school sweetheart, Carlos, and he became a firefighter like he had always dreamt he would be. But for all he had managed to make something of his life, there's still a hurt, lost child inside TK, a child who wants to found, and mostly, that child wants to be loved.

(I have rewritten the first several chapters, which have been condensed into one chapter, and then, I will be adding new content starting in chapter 2).

Chapter 1: Unsettled New Normal

It had been three months since T.K. had any drugs or alcohol, and he was long past the withdrawal phase of getting better, but it still made him sick to think that he could never touch a drug again. It’s going to stick this time, he promised himself. It never sticks, the critical voice in his head added. You always mess up, so you might as well just give up now. Despite the nagging thought that he was doomed for failure, T.K. didn’t have plans to go back to his old ways, and in that moment, he didn’t want to do drugs ever again. But the thought that he could never have substances again without the risk of a complete spiral made T.K.’s hands shake with apprehension. He thought of all the wedding toasts he’d have to miss, all the nights getting wasted in clubs in a way that was called fun instead of abuse, and all late nights with a date and a bottle of wine. Oxy was easier to escape in normal social functions, but he’d always be a little too fond at the mere thought of it.

There was an itchiness that prickled his core, pulling at his middle with a sloppy mix of feelings he couldn’t distinguish beyond being uncomfortable. The itch made him restless, and without the time-warp of being high, T.K. didn’t know how to keep himself busy. But he still stayed away from substances. All of them. He hadn’t even had coffee; though, he knew his resolve wouldn’t last on that front because there was only so much abstinence that he could he handle and only so much hollowness that he could take. He would need something eventually, even if that thing was a weak, watery stand-in for what he wanted. He’d knew that he’d always be an addict.

He didn’t mind being clean—sober, he reminded himself because the substances had never been what made his skin feel grimy and his insides feel like dust was perpetually compacted in all the hollow spaces—but sobriety would always bore him, like driving through a flat stretch of middle-America in a silent car on an overcast day, but it was better than the alternative. T.K. couldn’t put Carlos through more than he already had, so he suffered through the restlessness and tried to remind himself why he didn’t want to die.

The boredom had worsened since T.K. wasn’t working. T.K. yearned to return to the 126, even though he knew it was going to bring up thoughts that he’d tried to chase away with substances and an ill-fated overdose/suicide attempt. Working would give him something to do. His mind still whirled with the memory of that day, but sitting at home made him feel useless. Guilt ate at him as he thought about Carlos at work while T.K. sat on his ass. He wasn’t fulfilling his role in their household. I’m going to change that. I’ll go back to work, and some of the colors will come back into my life. It won’t always be this gray.

Bouncing his leg up and down to rid his body of some its excess energy, T.K. was not-so-patiently waiting for his husband to come home. He hated how trapped in his thoughts he became when no one else was around to keep his head away from everything else. He could have called Carlos’ mother. She’d decided to work less when she turned fifty-five, but it drove her crazy to have nothing to do, so Andrea Reyes would have gladly come over to keep T.K. company if he had asked. She’d been doing that a lot lately, probably at Carlos’ behest, but T.K. didn’t want to burden anyone with his issues more than he had to. I’ve been doing that enough lately.

T.K. couldn’t stop checking his phone. Carlos was late, and T.K. couldn’t stop himself from thinking the worst. He imagined Carlos blown up or shot down, and he couldn’t get the idea out of his head that something bad had happened. Carlos was the kind of guy to be on time, and while being a social worker meant that Carlos had some late nights, he usually told T.K. if he got caught up in something at work, and ever since the explosion, Carlos had been cutting those late nights short. T.K. knew it was because Carlos worried what would happen if T.K. was alone too long. Selfishly, T.K. was relieved when Carlos came home early, even if he insisted it wasn’t necessary.

He thought it would be good to get dinner started, but T.K. knew his limits, and he knew he wasn’t the best cook. He could throw together a meal if things had returned to normal, but he still had trouble motivating his body to do the things that he asked of it, so he sat with his worry. Every separation sends a fresh surge of anxiety through each of them, but they were trying to be better.

Still, there was only so much that T.K. could take, so he exhaled when Carlos came through the door, carrying a couple bags of groceries on the floor when T.K. got up and threw his arms around Carlos in record time. T.K. smiled. “Babe, hi.”

Carlos returned the smile and kissed T.K. on the forehead. “Sorry, I’m late. I had to stop at the store and get some stuff for dinner.”

“I wasn’t worried,” T.K. said too quickly.

“Your hands are shaking.”

“Just fidgety,” T.K. said, hoping there was no waver in his voice.

“You can’t lie to your husband.”

“You weren’t home, and I just thought—” T.K. shook his head. “It’s been hard.”

“I’m okay. You’re okay. Right?”

T.K. rubbed Carlos’ shoulders, trying to ease the knots. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m glad you’re home. I’m bored here all alone.” After giving T.K. another kiss, Carlos moved to the kitchen to put away the groceries and start dinner. He pulled out a pot, filling it with water and putting it on the burner.

T.K. followed Carlos to the kitchen. “What are you making?”

“Macaroni and cheese.”

T.K. felt warmth radiate in his chest, and he wanted to pull his husband to bed and never leave. “That’s the second time this week.”

“Are you getting sick of it?” Carlos said and then yawned.

“You know it’s my favorite.” One of T.K.’s earliest memories was being around three years old, and his mom made him macaroni and cheese. He remembered little about his mother. She was gone shortly after that memory, but macaroni and cheese always made him think of her. He remembered her smiling at him as she put the food in the bowl in front of him. “I ate it every day for two months after I left home. I didn’t get sick of it then, and I won’t get sick of it now either.”

Carlos ignited the burner, and as the fire fanned out before settling to its normal intensity, T.K. felt his heartbeat trot, and he couldn’t take his eyes from the flame.

“About leaving home. There’s something you should know.” Carlos’ tone was dark in a way that it hadn’t been since T.K.’s dad had turned up to their wedding uninvited two years prior. A shiver ran through his spine. “I saw your dad today. He’s back in town.” T.K.’s eyes snapped up.

T.K. fell back onto a stool next to the counter. “Oh?” he said, voice pulled like a rubber band just before it snapped. “I haven’t seen him since the wedding.”

“I heard he went to Florida.”

“He’s here now,” Carlos replied somberly. “I don’t know for how long or why, but he’s here.”

“Did you talk to him?” T.K. prayed the answer was no. He didn’t want Carlos to get too close. T.K. didn’t think Carlos was in danger, but Sam Avery was toxic.

Carlos shook his head. “I wouldn’t have been able to say anything good, so it’s probably best that I didn’t, but no, I just saw him at the market. He didn’t even acknowledge me.”

“I’m not even sure he knows your name. He only acknowledges me when he wants to make my life hell.” T.K. wasn’t bitter. He really wasn’t. He was tired of the bullshit that his dad brought into his life. “I wish that bastard would get out of Austin.”

“He should be in jail.” Carlos set a second pot for the cheese sauce down on the stovetop with a thud. T.K. startled. “Sorry,” Carlos said, looking guilty. The water on the stove was boiling, bubbles becoming more aggressive.

“I don’t want him in jail, but I want him away from me,” T.K. replied. “I can’t let him back into my life.” I can’t deal with him and staying sober. I’ll lose my mind if he tries to pry his way back into my life.

“I won’t let him get near you,” Carlos promised, and T.K. knew that for all Carlos meant his words that his dad wasn’t the type of guy who respected boundaries. If his dad wanted to get to T.K., he probably would. T.K. didn’t think the old drunkard cared enough to go out of his way, though. He was hoping desperately that that’s the case. Sam had told T.K. that he wasn’t worth the time hundreds of times, and T.K. didn’t want to be worth the time.

Carlos poured the macaroni into the pot, and the water foamed before settling.

“I’m not a helpless little kid anymore,” T.K.’s voice trembled. He was not one, but the helpless little kid lived inside him, scared and hoping that someone would care enough to let him out of the dark room he’d been shoved into. “I don’t know why he still gets to me.”

“It’s normal to hold onto things. I’m still mad at Willie Johnson for throwing a rock at my head in first grade.”

“Willie Johnson is has always been a jerk. I’d be mad too.”

“Yeah, but if I can hold on to that memory, it’s normal that you’d still feel hurt over the things your dad did, which were a hell of a lot worse than a rock to the head in first grade.”

“Dad wasn’t that bad.” You’ve always been sensitive. He only hurt you because you were too sensitive.

“I won’t spare any kind words for that man.”

“He’s still my dad.”

Carlos bit his lip as he put the milk, salt, pepper, cornstarch, and ground mustard into the roux pot and brought that mix to a boil. He got out the block of sharp white cheddar and shred it, taking his frustrations out on the cheese.

“What are you not telling me?”

Carlos put the cheese down. “I think you should get a restraining order.”

“That’s a little much, don’t you think?”

“What if he finds us here?” Carlos asked. “I don’t trust that he won’t track us down.”

“What’s he going to do? He’s got a lot of bark but not a lot of bite.” T.K. shook his head. “A restraining order won’t keep him away. If he wants to find us, he will, regardless of what the law says. He might break the order just to spite the law.”

“He’s dangerous,” Carlos said, voice going shrill. “We nearly had to cancel our wedding because you were so terrified to see him when he showed up unannounced.”

“He doesn’t scare me,” T.K. insisted. “He’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle him, and I don’t want to handle him if I don’t have to.”

“He wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about me.”

“You don’t have to worry.”

“It’s my thing to worry. You know that.”

“Let’s talk about how you are,” T.K. diverted the conversation. “How was work? I hope it wasn’t too bad.” Carlos had had a hard week the week before. A child in one family he worked with had died tragically, and it had been no one’s fault, but it had left Carlos feeling guilty that he hadn’t done more.

“It was okay,” Carlos replied with a sigh. “Better than last week.”

“That’s good.” T.K. pressed his lips against Carlos’ neck. He caught a whiff of Carlos’ cologne, and it reminded him of a smell he used to know, but he hadn’t been able to figure out what it was. He just knew it made him feel calm.

“As much as I love having you kiss me. I’m trying to make dinner,” Carlos said with a laugh, swatting T.K. away with a dish towel.

“Fine. Have it your way,” T.K. pulled away slowly, already missing the closeness. “That’s the last time I try to make you feel better after a hard day.”

“Being with you always makes me feel better,” Carlos replied in a tone that was so earnest that T.K. could hardly believe that Carlos was his husband. “I’m feeling less stressed already.”

“You should have asked me to go to the store. It’s not like I had anything to do.”

Carlos shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, but you’re so busy, and I’m just sitting around being useless.”

“You’re not useless.” They’d had a fight about this several times since the explosion. You do nothing to help this household. It makes no sense that Carlos has been so patient and sticks around.

“You have to say that. You married me, but what do I do? I’m not making any money. I can’t cook. I can barely even leave the house. The only thing I do is my job.”

“That’s a bunch of bullshit, T.K. You’ll be back in action soon. You’re recovering. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Work will probably be bad too. Did you hear that they’re bringing in some guy from New York to run the new 126? That’s what Judd told me.”

“Oh? How’s Judd doing.”

“Pissed that they’re bringing some stranger in to be our captain.”

“Are you pissed?”

“Obviously. It’s a slap in the face. That’s what it is. That man is going to ruin everything. He doesn’t get how it is here in Texas. Austin is progressive, but we’re still in Texas. I give it three weeks before he realizes that he’s not cut out to work here.” T.K. hadn’t been born in Texas, but it is the only home he could remember, and he didn’t like the idea of an outsider coming in and flipping everything on its head. They’d had enough changes.

Carlos shrugged. “Maybe he’ll be nice.”

T.K. shot him an “Are you serious?” look. “He’s probably going to think he’s the best thing since sliced bread, and I don’t want to work for a guy who has attitude.”

“You have attitude,” Carlos replied with a laugh, bumping T.K. playfully with his hip. He poured the macaroni and cheese mix into a casserole dish before adding bread crumbs and putting it all in the oven.

T.K. crossed his arms, looking petulant. “Well, I’m not in charge, am I? My attitude won’t get anyone killed. That job should go to Judd. He’s an actual leader. Not some city guy who got his position by charming the pants off his superiors. Like, come on, New York? Why would a New Yorker want to come here? Judd knows what it’s like here.” T.K. didn’t see any reasons why Judd shouldn’t get the promotion that he was next in line for.

“Do you think Judd would even want it? Grace tells me he’s been having a tough time with everything. Being captain is a lot of pressure.”

“Our team died. Of course, he’s having a hard time, but he’s fine now. He told me so. He’s ready to get back to work, and I’m going to be right beside him. I’m just glad we’ll have each other.”

“He’s struggling more than he lets on. Grace doesn’t think he’s ready to go back”

T.K. raised his eyebrows. “Grace said that?”

“He won’t do his required therapy.”

“They won’t let him back until he does. It sucks, but all you have to do is tell ‘em what they want to hear and then you’re done.”

“That better not be the attitude you use when you go to therapy.”

Carlos was careful with what he said next. “Do you think you’re ready to go back?”

T.K. felt a sudden rush of guilt. “Babe, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?” Carlos looked nervous.

“I’m going back tomorrow,” T.K. confessed.

“What the hell, T.K.?” Carlos asked. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” T.K. had been trying to tell Carlos for a week, but he knew Carlos would think that it was too soon, so he’d delayed it until he could delay it no more. He’d never meant for it to become such a big secret, but like any secret, it had a life of its own.

“It was short notice, but I’ve been doing my therapy, so the captain agreed we could try to see what happens.”

“You nearly died twice.”

“The overdose was a lapse in judgement and the explosion was a freak accident. Neither will happen again.” You know it’s only a matter of time before you fall off the wagon. I wouldn’t do that to Carlos. You can’t help yourself.

“Judd won’t be your boss. The new guy is, so you’ll have to listen to him. Are you ready for that?”

“He saved my life, so I’m going to be loyal to him above all others, and the new captain better learn to deal with that.” Judd had shielded T.K. with his own body, protecting him from the worst of the explosion. T.K. owed Judd his life, and he was going to be bitter on his friend’s behalf about this new guy rolling in and stealing what was rightfully Judd’s.

“If you need more time off, we can make it work. You don’t have to go back right now.”

“We can’t make it work. You don’t exactly get paid a lot, and I can’t just sit at home all day.”

“Whatever you need, we can make it work.”

“I need to get back to work, Carlos.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to go back before you’re ready.” T.K. could hear the anxiety in Carlos’ voice, and he knew that Carlos had nightmares about T.K. dying in the explosion.

“I need to get back to living a real life, not just my sad, pathetic existence.”

 “If you say you’re ready, I’ll support you.” Carlos swallowed. “But I won’t deny that I’m nervous about you going back.”

T.K. took Carlos’ hand, pulling Carlos closer. “I’m ready. I promise. I was born to do this, and I won’t let shit that’s happened in the past stand in my way. I feel purposeless, and I need to get that purpose back.”

“Will you keep going to therapy?”

“If that makes you feel better.”

“I want it to make you feel better.”

T.K. leaned up to kiss Carlos. “That’s why I married you. You always want me to be better. You make me better”

“I thought it was because I could cook?”

T.K. kissed him again. “That was just a perk.”

“Are you nervous?” Carlos asked.

 “You know me. I jump into things and don’t look back.” T.K. shook his head. “No, I’m not nervous.”

Walking into the firehouse the next morning felt strange after months away. T.K. hadn’t been there since the memorial service for the lost members. T.K. felt like Dorothy walking into Oz as he stared at the firehouse’s facelift, but instead of awe, dread was the only emotion that T.K. could make out.

The fire station felt like a hotel that he was passing through more than a second home where he’d be spending huge chunks of his time. He couldn’t deny that the arrangement was impressive, but the transformation only made him bitter. Lives couldn’t be covered up with a fresh coat of paint.

Before he could even get his bearings, the Owen Strand pulled him into his office, offering a hand and a too chipper grin. Reluctantly, T.K. shook his new captain’s hand. He hadn’t been raised with many manners, but he wasn’t an idiot either. He knew to play nice with his boss. “Owen Strand,” Owen introduced himself. “Please, have a seat.”

T.K. sat in a chair that looked too nice to be comfortable. He didn’t want to have whatever conversation Owen wanted to have. It wasn’t like T.K. has done anything yet. He hadn’t had the chance to let his impulses get him in trouble with this stupid New Yorker who was probably going to be the downfall of the entire station. Because based on the aesthetic of the firehouse, T.K. had to wonder if Owen was a leader who probably cared more about appearances and firehouse statistics more than he cared about the work itself.

They wouldn’t even start taking calls for another week because Owen thought it was important that they had team bonding and the kind of crap that T.K. thought was a waste of energy. They’d be doing training sessions, which were better than the getting to know each other games that were also on the agenda. Endurance exercises would keep his mind off everything else, but the trust exercises made him want to scream.

The captain was looking at him with an unreadable expression, and it was too early for a stare-off, so the way the captain was looking at him only made T.K. angrier because he’s too tired for games. T.K. hated men like that who looked at you like they could break you down by looking at you long enough. “Good morning, T.K.” Owen’s voice was bubbly, as if the firehouse wasn’t still haunted by all the people it has lost. T.K.’s was not sure that he’d ever be able to smile like that without guilt. It’s not like his life gave him a lot to smile about, anyway.

T.K. crossed his arms and uncrossed them because he didn’t want to look like a petulant kid. “What am I here for?” T.K. asked, not wanting to extend any pleasantries. He wasn’t there to make nice. He was there to do his job, and that’s exactly what he was going to do. I’ll show him I’m okay, but I don’t have to pretend I like him. He didn’t want to make friends or talk to his boss about things that didn’t matter. Owen Strand wanted to be Mr. Popular, and T.K. would not let him have that title easily. T.K. couldn’t be bribed with gourmet coffee makers and a variety of milks.

Owen has the gall to crack another smile. T.K. doesn’t return one. He can’t. He won’t. “I thought I should inform you that Judd won’t be coming back yet.” He hadn’t talked to Judd, but he’d figured that part out based on the conversation he’d had with Carlos the night before.

“Yeah, I know.” T.K. kept his voice stoic. “And I probably would’ve noticed that when I didn’t see him here.”

“I thought you should know that my decision not to bring Judd back right now doesn’t mean he’ll never be back.”

“Great, thanks for letting me know. Can I go now?”

“But that’s not why I called you in here. It’s not the only reason, at least.”

“Then what is? I’m not in the mood for small talk.”

“I want Judd to take care of his mental health. That was the major reason I would not let him back. He wasn’t taking his trauma seriously.” T.K. wanted to tell Owen off.

“It’s hard not to take trauma seriously. It’s always serious. That’s what makes it trauma.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. All I mean is that he needs more time to get his head back to where it needs to be.”

“You think I’m better than he is?” T.K. wasn’t sure he was much better than Judd. Maybe he was better at hiding the haunted look in his eyes. He’d been doing it his whole life. I know how to seem okay. It’s one of my greatest talents.

“You’ve been doing what the department requires, and that’s why I let you come back.” Owen kept his tone cool. “I’m not trying to be the bad guy here, T.K.”

“Yeah? And?” He still doesn’t know why Owen is wasting his time with this. “I still don’t get why you called me in here.”

“Being here doesn’t mean that I’m going to ignore well-being. I need you to take your mental health seriously too. You’ve done your required therapy, but I need you to keep taking care of that. If you have issues, you need to be upfront about them or else this won’t work. I need to know that I can trust you.” What about me trusting you? How am I supposed to do that?

T.K. rolled his eyes. “What my personal life is like isn’t your business. Everyone’s got baggage, and it’s not your business how I deal with it.”

“It is if it impedes what we’re doing here. I believe we all need to be on the same page. Are you willing to be a team player?”

“I would never let my issues get in the way with my job.”

“I know you wouldn’t intentionally, but—"

“But nothing. I’m fine, and this isn’t something I want to talk about with someone I’ve just met. What happened was awful, but I’m ready to move on because it doesn’t help anyone to live in the past.”

“T.K., you’re young and you’re resilient, but trauma is still trauma. I’ve been through it myself. I know what it’s like to lose your whole crew.” He pauses, looking choked up. “I know what it’s like to lose everything important to you.”

“Then, you know that sometimes you don’t want to be coddled. You just want to move on.”

“I also know that sometimes no matter how hard you try, you can’t move. I don’t want you to be stuck.”

“I’m nothing like you,” T.K. spat. “And the problems that you think I have are just you problems.”

Owen didn’t let T.K.’s comment rile him up. “Maybe you’re right, but I’m here if you need to talk. I’m here for anyone on my team.”

“I won’t, and if I do, it won’t be to you because I don’t trust you. You just rolled into Austin like you owned the place. It doesn’t make sense that you’d want to come to Austin, of all places. This would be a downgrade to a New Yorker, so unless you were on the verge of being fired, I can’t see why you’d take this job other than having a hero complex.” T.K. absolutely shouldn’t talk to his new boss that way, but he’d never been good at keeping his mouth shut.

“I appreciate your honesty, so I’m going to be honest with you. I’m not here because I want to be a hero. I’m here because I needed a fresh start. New York has a lot of hard memories for me. I was holding onto a lot of things that I needed to let go of, so when the opportunity arose, I made the most drastic change that I’ve ever faced. This new station can be a fresh start for you too. And Judd.”

T.K. remained testy. “I didn’t ask for your sob story.” He was being an asshole because that how he gets whenever he has any negative feelings. Like father like son, I guess.

Owen gave T.K. a sympathetic smile. “Trust me. I didn’t give it,” and T.K. knew that there was something to unpack there, but someone else’s trauma wasn’t something he has any business digging into. Besides, he really didn’t care to know anything more about Owen Strand than he already did.

By the end of the shift, all T.K. could think about was how big of an asshole Owen Strand was. Owen was the type of guy who everyone thought was so amazing. He grinned, and he cracked jokes with the crew. He wasn’t afraid to dive into a dangerous situation, and he had all the makings of a ruggedly handsome fifty-something hero. For all the things that outwardly seemed cool about Owen Strand, he was grandiose, and T.K. recognized the carefully practiced smile of someone who had a dark history that hadn’t yet found its way to a light present.

Trying not to think of his captain, T.K. got in his car, and he could hardly believe how much he wanted to go home after being so insistent about needing to get out of the house. He went ten miles per hour over the speed limit and rushed in through the door with fresh rage he could never seem to shake. Carlos looked up as he threw his keys onto their hook and missed the hook, letting the keys hit the floor. He groaned and didn’t pick them up.

“Hey,” Carlos said, voice cautious. “How was today?” T.K. didn’t want to talk about it, but he also had no ability to keep his mouth shut.

T.K. throws his hands up, gesticulating wildly. “He wants to change the entire station with his espresso machine and new age crap like that would make things any better. He thinks Judd isn’t ready to come back. How crazy is that? Judd lives to be a firefighter.”

“What about you?” Carlos asked.

“What about me?” T.K. blared. He clenched his fists, already losing it when the conversation has barely started.

“Does he think you’re ready to come back?”

“He looked skeptical, but he didn’t say I wasn’t. He let me stay for the shift, but all we did was fucking bonding exercises. But it helped that I’d actually gone to my therapy. I didn’t tell him that my social worker boyfriend pushed me into it.” T.K. crossed his arms. “What does he know anyway? This guy thinks that he’s an expert on mental health. Like, you can’t tell just by looking at a person how well they are is doing. He told me that he still had concerns about me, but with Judd, he just flat out said that he wasn’t ready. How unfair is that? Judd’s been there since he got out of high school. It’s not like he’s forgotten how to fight fires. Most of the time we’re just doing medical calls and crowd control.”

“Maybe he’s right.” T.K. looked at Carlos like he was a traitor.

“Whose side are you on?” T.K. felt like a raw nerve. He’d felt like one since he was a child, and now, he kept blowing up at the people he loved the most, and ever since the explosion, he’d been worse. He dreaded opening his mouth because he didn’t know when something red hot would spew out before he could stop it.

“Yours. I’m always on yours, but what you went through was traumatic, and—”

“And nothing! You don’t get to define my trauma by telling me how I should feel or that I’m not ready to go back to work. I’m ready! I’m tired of sitting at home like an invalid. You don’t get how crazy I’ve been going here.” The comfort of being home was short-lived, apparently.

“I know that it’s been hard.”

“It’s been the worst time of my life, and you know what my childhood was like.”

“Maybe the captain won’t be as bad as you think.”

“Maybe he’ll be worse. What does a city slicker know about running a fire department in Texas? He’s going to ruin everything we built. The station looks like it’s from an architecture catalog, but that won’t do  much when he lets the station go to hell with poor management.”

“One man can’t destroy the whole firehouse all on his own.”

“He’s hired outsiders. He searched across the country. What’s the matter with people we have here?”

“You don’t like your coworkers.”

“They’re fine, but that’s not the point. They don’t get what it’s like here either. These people don’t feel like family.”

“It takes time to get to know people. Isn’t it better that he’s looking for completely fresh faces instead of trying to replace the old ones?”

“No. Owen Strand has only just started, and he’s already making a mess of things.”

“He’ll adapt, and he’ll have you to help him.” At least T.K. still had a job to show up to. Judd’s prospects were a lot less settled. Owen Strand didn’t seem to change his mind easily.

“I have a policy about not doing favors for bastards.” T.K. said, plopping his body on the couch next to Carlos.

“You wouldn’t be doing a favor for a bastard. You’d be doing a favor for the people of this city. Even if this new guy doesn’t need it, they need your help.” T.K. wasn’t going to let people down no matter how awful he felt about the whole situation. He was the best person for the job, which was why he was going to have to play nice and vent his frustrations when he came home from work at night.

“I know, but it’s still going to suck. I’m too hot-blooded for this. God, I’m just like my dad.” Carlos pulls T.K.’s body away from his so that they can look at each other eye to eye.

“You’re nothing like him. You can get passionate, but you don’t hurt innocent people when you get mad, and you care about people other than yourself. I wouldn’t have married you if you were like him.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure my mom didn’t intend on getting stuck with an abusive deadbeat either. It’s no wonder she... left me.” T.K. wondered how much he was like his mother. If he married to a man like Sam Avery, he figured he would have given up on life as well.

Carlos kissed T.K.’s temple. “You’re the best husband. I’m lucky to have you.”

T.K. leaned his head against Carlos’ chest. “I’m even luckier to have you. You put up with my craziness.”

Carlos smiled. “For now, and forever.”

“Life’s never going to be the same, is it?” T.K. couldn’t help but ask.

Carlos holds T.K. closer. “No, I don’t think that it is, but it could be good in its own way.”

“We’ll see about that, but I can’t shake the feeling that everything’s going to go up in flame.” In T.K.’s experience, never good lasted when the bad was so insistent on taking the joy.

One Monday later, Judd was finally allowed back after Grace had convinced the captain to let Judd came back, meaning that T.K. would have at least one ally at work. That knowledge did little to sweeten T.K.’s sour mood. T.K. had just had the weekend off, so going back to work for another week with Captain Thinks He’s Cool But Is Actually an Asshole was not T.K.’s idea of a good time.

Usually, he liked his job. He enjoyed helping people, and every time he saved someone else, T.K. felt like he was rescuing himself from parts of himself that he didn’t like to consider—his impulsiveness, his addictiveness, his restlessness. But with all the changes, T.K. felt little when he worked. There was a hollowness in his core that T.K. couldn’t fill as effortlessly as he once could. Work didn’t make him feel in control anymore. It made him worry that he was seconds away from a spiral because firefighting was once solid ground, but it had become a collapsed building, full of accidents waiting to happen.

The day was off to a bad start. A house fire left T.K. in a bad mood, but he didn’t think about that. Reminding himself of the details would only cause his brain to spiral, and he had a shift to finish. You need to stop being so crazy and get your act together. If you don’t get it together, you’re going to make a fatal mistake. T.K. wasn’t sure his job would ever be the same. What if I can never do my job normally again. What if I’m broken?

I should be dead, was the mantra repeating in his mind. It had been there for longer than he would have admitted. There was no reason why he had lived while his family had died in that catastrophic explosion. Every single person in that crew had been better than T.K. a million times over. T.K. was lucky to have known them all, and their acceptance of him had proven that life is happier when the best part of it was the people who surround you. They brought out the best in him, and then, they were gone. Now, T.K. was left with Carlos, Judd, and a mountain of issues that he had to battle. He couldn’t talk about those issues, though. Not if he wanted to keep himself marginally levelheaded.

“You’re spacey today,” T.K. heard, and he felt himself jolt at the interruption. Paul was right next to him with that look on his face. The one that T.K. was being analyzed in ways that made him want to dig a hole and hide for a few months until things had steadied and he didn’t feel dizzy all the time. T.K. tried to keep his distance from Paul because it was hard to hide from someone who was hyper-observant. T.K. knew a thing or two about hiding. He’d hidden his sexuality, he’d hidden all the shit that happened with his father, and he’d hidden how untethered he always was, even before the accident. He took comfort in all the things he never showed anyone. Even Carlos only knew a sanitized version of what went on in T.K.’s head, and life was less chaotic that way. It kept things compartmentalized.

“I’m just here to do my job.” But he wasn’t even good at that anymore. All the calls that could have gone wrong did, but blocked those thoughts from his mind. He’d been on the verge of a mental breakdown for a while, and he tiptoed the edge between being okay and not being okay carefully. As long as he could act okay externally, he could deal with the messy internal thoughts. No one could know that he was struggling. If they did, they’d think it was too early for him to be back at work, and that wasn’t the case at all. Work wasn’t the problem. It was everything else in his life that was falling apart. Work was the glue that was keeping him together. But it’s getting harder to pretend I’m okay. I’m tired, too tired for the façade.

T.K. wasn’t sure why Paul had come to bother him at all. Maybe he’d drawn the short straw. The new team should’ve known better than to approach T.K. when he was in a mood. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t going to be social with anyone at the 126 other than Judd. T.K. wasn’t planning on making friends, and he certainly didn’t want any concern from people he saw as nothing more than interlopers.

“I’m here to talk if you need it, man.” The consideration almost made T.K. soften. Because I’m weak. Damn Paul for being a good guy. T.K. had to remind himself not to let his guard down just because someone was nice to him. Maybe several years ago, he would have been pathetic enough to try to be friends with anyone who paid attention to him, but he was past being desperate for love. Love always seemed to turn up tragic, anyway, so he’d clutch onto the love he already had without making any more. Whoever said the more, the merrier didn’t know the joy of being alone.

“I have a husband for talking to,” And I haven’t felt like talking to him either. Or my therapist.

Paul’s face remained neutral. “A husband, huh? I think that’s the first personal thing you’ve said. What’s his name?”

T.K. resisted rolling his eyes. He couldn’t help the clipped tone that came out, “Don’t get used to information. His name is Carlos. That’s all you’re going to get.” I’m such an asshole. He hated how he couldn’t seem to stop himself from being a jerk. He’d been an asshole to Carlos when they first met as well. He’d said, “Go look somewhere else if you’re looking to use your hero complex,” when Carlos had bandaged T.K. after T.K. fought with his dad. T.K. still wasn’t sure how Carlos had gotten past that moment, that broken and pathetic moment.

Paul shrugged, saying, “Okay. That’s fine. I’m not trying to push anything,” and the response made T.K.’s blood boil with something he couldn’t identify—anger, anxiety, maybe fear. He expected more of a reaction when he was an asshole, and it made butterflies flutter in his stomach when people’s reactions were different than he anticipated. No, it was more like bulls stampeding in his stomach, running with heaviness and power. “But that was a bad call with the little girl, so if you need to talk to someone who gets it, any of us are willing. It doesn’t have to be me.”

“That’s it? You’re not going to tell me off for being an asshole.” Childish defiance was brewing in T.K., and the more he wanted to make Paul’s expression change. “You obviously aren’t as observant as you claim to be because you haven’t noticed that I don’t plan to play nice with any of you. You’re only here because good men died. You’ve got awfully big shoes to fill, and you’re never going to fill them.”

Paul’s voice still didn’t raise. He pointed to his boots, “Luckily, I came with my own shoes, and I’ve filled them for a long time.” He stood from the bench and gave T.K. a pitiful look.  “I get that you lost a lot, and no one is going to replace your old crew, but like it or not, you’ve gained a motley crew of people who don’t want the world to hurt other people like it hurt us. You don’t have to talk to us. You don’t even have to like us, but we’re here, so you might as well make the best of us.”

The anger dissipated from T.K.’s body. “I think I just need a few moments alone.”

Paul gave a small smile, “Take as many or as few as you need,” and with a nod, he was gone.

For all he wanted it to, the day didn’t end there. T.K. just wanted to go home, bury himself under his covers, and sleep, but he had thirteen hours left on his shift, and he’d have to suck up his bad feelings and try to get through.

Just two hours later, Marjan was the second member of the crew to corner T.K. When he saw her come up to him with an expression that screamed, “We’re having a serious talk,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and suppressed a groan. He liked Marjan. She was a badass with a quick wit and a heart of gold. What wasn’t to like? But while she didn’t have Paul’s extreme observational skills, she had a way of cajoling information out of people that almost made talking to her more dangerous.

“We’re going out to a honkytonk tomorrow night. You should come.”

T.K. brushed her off, “I’m kind of busy.”

“You’re busy a lot.”

T.K. tried to make a joke, “I get booked up months in advance.”

“Well, maybe you could squeeze us in some time.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” T.K. said, but he wasn’t going to make any promises. The exchange was short, and for the most part painless.”

It wasn’t even one hour later when T.K. was bombarded yet again. He looked at Mateo with an exasperated expression, “What is this? A let’s talk to T.K. revolving door?”

Mateo looked confused, “What?”

“Never mind,” T.K. shook his head.

Mateo was the member of the 126 who people too often underestimated. They looked at him and assumed that he was stupid or naïve and wouldn’t know anything. He was quiet, and there was a lot that he didn’t understand, but his ignorance had nothing to do with his intelligence or will. He just didn’t have the experience level that the rest of the crew had, but he was good with the details. He left nothing to chance, and he was the least likely of all them to cut corners. He was thorough with his relationships too, and he was so naturally caring that it was hard to turn him away and not give him something. His trustworthiness and his genuine concern made it hard for T.K.’s barriers not to melt just a little bit, but I have to be strong.

Mateo was brief with his speech, “We’re all just here to help each other out, and we need each other now more than ever.”

“I need my old crew more than ever,” T.K. said, meaning to sound stubborn, but it came off as desperate and too honest.

“We’re more than replacements. We can be friends.”

“You’ll be waiting a while if you want friendship.”

Mateo shrugged. “I’m good at waiting. Do you know how long it took me just to be a probie?” T.K. hadn’t paid attention enough to know the answer, but he did remember a lot of fretting about Mateo’s firefighter’s test a while back. “I don’t care about having to do so much grunt work, either. I’m just glad to be here.” The question is, Am I glad to be here too?

T.K. felt a rush of relief fill him when Mateo didn’t make him say anything more, but T.K.’s mind wouldn’t leave him alone.

The final few hours of his shift dragged. They ate dinner together, but T.K. wasn’t hungry. He pushed his food around as he thought of the little girl, and couldn’t shake the sickness in his stomach. He wanted to escape. He wanted a drug. He wanted a hug from Carlos. He couldn’t take it anymore. His mind was reeling with the defeat of the day. Excusing himself, he snuck to the bathroom just to escape being near other people.

He splashed water on his face, trying to wash the bad of the day from his face, but it didn’t budge. He heard a voice and spun around, feeling his heart beat faster. It was just Owen. T.K. felt the fear diminish but the residual panic was still in his body.

“Sorry about that,” Owen said. Turning the tap on and waving his toothbrush. “I need a quick refresh.”

“It’s fine,” T.K. replied half-heartedly, not wanting to look as distraught as he felt while also not wanting to invite a conversation. T.K. dried his face off and tried to make himself presentable before he’d have to go back and face the rest of his shift.

Before he could slip away, Owen stopped him. “T.K., hold on,” Owen said as he spat the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed his mouth.

Owen Strand was the member of the 126 that T.K. knew better than he wanted to know him. He talked a lot, and he pretty quickly revealed heaps of information, but T.K. knew that for as open as he appeared to be, he had secrets that he was guarding. He was choosy about what he revealed, but because he revealed a significant amount of stuff that didn’t really matter, he seemed open. T.K. recognized that in him because T.K. was exactly the same way. He made people feel like he was giving information away to distract from the secrets he kept. Though, he hadn’t even been doing that lately. He didn’t have the energy to spin a narrative just to keep people off his trail. There was so much else he had to handle, and the new 126 didn’t seem worth the effort of either divulging information or actively hiding information.

Owen picked up a comb and started fixing his hair. Of course, Owen of all people would have a post-meal beauty routine. “It’s been a hard day. Self-care is most important on hard days.” He handed T.K. some lotion. “Try this. It has chamomile. It’s supposed to be soothing.”

“No thanks,” T.K. said.

“Suit yourself,” Owen said, putting the comb down and using the lotion for himself. “Our job certainly doesn’t promote good skincare.”

T.K. didn’t even know what to say to that. “I guess not. Can I go or did you want to say something?” “I wanted to check-in.”

For all he tried to be civil, T.K. couldn’t stifle his groan. “You don’t have to keep asking me how I am.”

“It’s not just you that I worry about. I check in with the others too. You’re just more elusive than them.”

“You can’t tell me I’m more elusive than Judd.”

Owen grinned. “Hard to believe, I know.”

T.K. eyed Owen as he picked up cologne and dabbed it on his wrists and onto his neck. “It’s the little things that get you through the day. I know it seems silly, but I like smelling like myself,” Owen explained. He was one of those people who liked to hear his own voice. “A good scent can remind you that there’s something beyond the smoke.”

T.K. knew the smell right away. “That’s Black Valley by Oscar Simmons, isn’t it?” Even assholes can have good taste in cologne.

Owen raised his eyebrows. “You know it?”

“My husband wears it.”

“He must be a dapper man.” Owen looked impressed. “It’s an old scent for someone so young to wear.”

“Carlos says it’s a classic. I think he likes it because his dad passed it down to him. He’s always thought his dad was super cool.”

A flash of something dark flickered through Owen’s eyes. “That’s nice. Tradition is important. I’ve been wearing this scent for nearly thirty years. It’s been through a lot with me.”

“It’s been around that long?”

“I still have trouble believing that I’ve been around that long,” Owen said with a chuckle.

“I’m getting pretty close to thirty-years myself.” He still had four years before then, but he was closer to thirty than twenty. He felt ancient. The past few months had felt like years.

“Enjoy the time before your body starts getting creaky.”

T.K. cracked his knuckles. “It’s already there.” He sighed. “But at least I get to grow older. That little girl—” he caught himself before he said more.

“It’s hard to see kids die,” Owen commented somberly. “How are you doing with that?”

T.K. forced a smile, the normal almost friendly moment dissipating as tenseness settled between them. “I’m doing okay.” Owen was the captain, so if there was anyone that T.K. had to fool, it was him.

“It’s been a long shift. A child died, and that’s always hard. No amount of experience makes that easier.”

“No, but I’m not cracking up over it.” He sighed. “It’s just hard.”

“I know, but you don’t have to shut down your emotions. I don’t want robots as employees, so I won’t penalize you for having them. It’s good to process those things.”

“We still have time on the clock, so I’ve got to keep my focus.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Owen insisted.

“I didn’t say it was,” T.K. bit out. But it is, isn’t it?

“There was nothing you could have done.”

“Yeah, I know that,” T.K.’s voice was firmer now, but he couldn’t help the way it wavered at the end. “But I saved the villain.”

“You did your job.” Owen opened his mouth to say something else, but the alarm lit up, and a siren wailed through the firehouse.

“We’ll have to talk later,” T.K. told the captain, hurrying out of the captain’s office to get ready. He had no intention of talking. It’s best that way. Talking never leads to anything good coming out of my mouth.

It was nearly time to go home, and there was only one person who hadn’t yet had a heart to heart with T.K. As the only member of the crew to have a genuine relationship with T.K., Judd’s concern meant the most, but they’d never been the type of friends to have emotional conversations. They were brothers and would do anything for one another—Judd’s family often hosted T.K. for holidays, which they’d split with Carlos’ family—but they didn’t need heart to hearts to be close.

T.K. thought he was going to escape without a conversation with Judd until he saw Judd waiting by T.K.’s car.

“You have to let them in eventually,” Judd told him. T.K. had to admit that Judd was a changed person since he had started to go to therapy. Maybe that’s why he seemed so into having real conversations now instead of just talking about sports and married life.

“I don’t have to do anything,” T.K. insisted, and he sounded so much like a little brother.

“Kid,” Judd always called him kid when he was going into big brother mode, “They want to know you, and crews always work better when they trust one another.”

“I’ve given them no reason not to trust me. Just because I don’t share—”

“T.K., you’re not trusting them.”

“I trust them to do the job.”

“You won’t even tell them your favorite color.”

“I don’t have a favorite color.”

Judd sighed. “I’m not asking you to tell them every little detail about yourself, but if you want this to work, you have to give ‘em something.”

“Judd, I have to go.” T.K. looked at his watch, “Carlos is waiting for me, and I don’t want to be here longer than I have to.”

“Talk to him about what happened today. With everything with your dad—”

“He’s got nothing to do with this.”

“Are you sure about that? Carlos told me he was back in town.” Judd shook his head. “Which you should have told me.”

“I should have known Carlos wouldn’t keep that a secret.”

“He’s worried. I am too.”

“Please, Judd. I want to go home.”

“Fine.” Judd sighed. “Just don’t be a stranger. Dad misses you at family dinners.”

“I’m doing my best, Judd. You of all people know it’s a lot to deal with it all.”

“I know. I’m still strugglin’. trust me the nightmares keep on coming, but I’m taking little steps forward, and I’m learning not to let bad days get me down so much. Our new crew is a good bunch of people, so I don’t want your fears to get in the way of you adding some new people to your life.”

“I’m not afraid.”

Judd patted him on the shoulder, “Well, whatever you are ain’t making you happy,” and wasn’t that the truth. I’m not sure happiness is in the cards for me.

When T.K. finally got home, the last thing he wanted to do was talk more, so he slid into his house and went directly to bed without saying more than a few words to Carlos. He tried not to let thoughts about the dead little girl infiltrate his mind, but he had nightmares of her burning in the fire. When T.K. woke up, Carlos was already at work, and T.K. knew he’d have to endure the day alone. He didn’t mind moping on his own, but he knew it was a bad day to have excess time. If things were normal, he would have bothered one of the crew to hang out with him, but his crew was dead, and it wasn’t a good time to burden Judd. Grace would understand, but like Judd, she already had enough to deal with.

He could have always called Carlos, who would’ve dropped everything to talk to T.K., but Carlos had already missed enough work, and he deserved some time away from the chaos that T.K. had dragged him into.

With Carlos gone for most of the day, T.K. tried and let himself recover, by the third hour of watching a soap opera that he didn’t understand, T.K. was at the end of his rope.

When Carlos did come home, T.K. wasn’t in a talking mood, but silence didn’t pair well with dinner. He knew it would help, but he didn’t want another night of trauma talk. For once, he just wanted to pretend that they were a normal couple who worried about normal things like what they were having for dinner or whether to paint the living room tea leaf or sea glass. T.K. tried to find something to say, but he couldn’t think of anything normal, so he just stayed quiet and asked Carlos what he had done at work.

Carlos talked about his day, but after T.K. asked him about what he did during his day for the fourth time, Carlos had enough. “You have to talk about it eventually.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Something’s bothering you.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Conversations are always pulling teeth with you.”

“Could you stop? I’ve had a long day.” He wanted to eat their meal without the rattling in his brain. For a while, he wanted to ignore all that was wrong with his life.

“You were off today.” And agonized by all my free time.

“The days blur together, I guess,” which was true. With odd shift schedules, T.K. sometimes lost track of what day it was or when the old day had turned over to a new one.

“You haven’t been talking to me since you got back to work.”

“I talk to you every day, Carlos.” T.K. wouldn’t be able to stop talking to Carlos, even if he tried. He’d lose his mind after the third day of silence. For as closed off as he was, T.K. couldn’t stand silence with anyone for long, and he’d lose his head when he thought people were giving him the silent treatment. If no one was talking, T.K. usually babbled just to fill the space. He didn’t have to do that as much with Carlos, though, or anyone he trusted. T.K. knew that Carlos would never use the silence as a weapon.

“Not about how you’re doing.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m fine. I’m back at work and feeling better than ever.”

“You don’t just go from wanting to kill yourself to being fine.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself. It was just a normal ‘I’m a fuck up who accidentally overdosed on a shit ton of oxy that didn’t even make me feel better.’” You’re a liar.

Carlos didn’t look convinced. “It doesn’t really matter what exactly happened that night. Whatever happened, you weren’t okay, and all that matters now is that it happened, and you need to address it. I want to know that you’ve been dealing with whatever you’re feeling in the right ways because going backward isn’t a choice.”

“I’m dealing as well as I can be.” He wasn’t telling the truth. He could have committed to his therapeutic process. He could have admitted that he had wanted to die when he took those pills. He could have told Carlos that despite all his bravado that he wasn’t sure if he was ready to be back at work and that he wasn’t even sure that firefighting was what he wanted anymore. He could have admitted that more than just work was getting to him. But he wasn’t going to do any of that because it was easier for everyone if he dealt with his shit alone.

“Keeping to yourself isn’t dealing. It’s ignoring the problem.”

“I’m trying to spare you the angst.”

“No, you’re trying to spare yourself from dealing with your problems.”

“Why does everyone want to talk? Why can’t any of you let things go back to normal? We pretended I was fine before. Can’t we do that again?”

“That’s kind of the problem. The normal you want to go back to doesn’t exist, and the sooner you realize that the more stable your life will become.”

“I’m not going to do anything crazy.”

“Maybe not, but you’ve been more on edge lately, and I’m not sure if it’s because you’re back at work or because I told you that your dad was back.”

“I don’t care about my dad,” T.K. refuted too quickly.

“Fine, then this is about something else.”

Carlos wasn’t going to drop this, and T.K. couldn’t help the anxiety that blossomed in his chest or the rage that it turned into. “Why are you always such a busy body? You can’t leave me to have peace for five goddamn seconds?” He regretted yelling immediately, but with all the shame he felt for yelling, he became angrier, and he needed to be louder, or else he’d be consumed by whatever happened next. He needed to keep fighting or he’d go down. “You’re supposed to support me, not try to leech information from me just to be entertained by the fucking drama in my life.” He sounded paranoid and insecure, but when he was in a mood, he always spoke to keep control of the situation and make sure his voice didn’t fade.

“I know what you’re doing.”

The anxiety was bubbling more, and he wasn’t sure what to do to stop it. He didn’t even know why it was there but yelling temporarily dulled it. “I’m yelling at you like an asshole, that’s what I’m doing, but you can’t drop your sincere, loving husband act for two seconds.”

“You want me to lash out, but I’m not going to take the bait.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m just a fucking asshole, Carlos. It’s not that deep. You’re so naïve that you think there’s something redeemable in every person. How crazy is that? Grow up and see that some people are just wasted. They’re going to break your heart, and they’re not going to care that they’re doing it.”

“You always do this when you’re upset.”

“I’m not doing anything. It’s not a master plan or a scheme! I’m just an asshole. That’s all. You should know by now that that’s all I am. You married me, and if you don’t know what I am by now, that’s pretty pathetic. You must’ve been desperate if you married me. Aaron must have really broken you. He—”

T.K. could see the heat burning in Carlos’ eyes, and he got a guilty surge of satisfaction of finally getting a hint of the response he wanted. “Shut up, T.K, and don’t give me that crap. Aaron devastated me, but I was fifteen and in the closet. He’s in the past, but you’re not. You know what you do? You try to control people’s reactions. You provoke them so they’ll get angry with you because you’ve learned that a predictable bad response is more secure than gambling on what you might get.”

T.K. rolled his eyes, “Keep your social worker talk out of this.” He wasn’t looking to be psychoanalyzed.

Carlos swallowed a lump in his throat. “No, you’re all about bringing up hard truths tonight, so I’m not holding back either. You’ve learned that being hit hurts a lot less when you’ve convinced yourself that you had it coming, so when you feel vulnerable, you try to make people mad so that they get angry when you see it coming.”

“Stop it,” T.K. warned.

Carlos didn’t stop, “If you make people angry, you don’t have to risk them feeling something you don’t know how to handle. You don’t have to worry that they’ll hurt you for no reason because when you get too close to someone, you always give them a reason to be angry.”

T.K. felt his eyes get glossy, but he’d learned long ago that crying made things worse, so he closed his eyes and willed the drops to retreat into his eyes. He felt Carlos’ weight settle beside him and felt a warm hand slip into his. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, but you don’t get to dictate when I feel what. I want you to feel safe, but you’re never going to feel safe if you don’t learn to accept that you aren’t responsible for how other people feel, and you can’t control their emotions.”

“I can’t even control my own emotions. I feel like they’re always going crazy.” He couldn’t get a grip on what he was feeling. It had always been hard for him to process his emotions or even identify which one he was feeling at any given moment.

“That would be hard.”

“It was just an awful day.”

“I don’t know what happened, but you’re trying to punish yourself. There’s a part of you that thinks it’s what you deserve.” Because punishment stops the spinning in my head.

“Yeah, well, I really fucked up, Carlos.” Maybe he did deserve bad things. All of the bad things. I messed things up so badly, and I don’t there’s a way to make it okay.

“What happened?” Carlos’ voice was gentle but prodding.

“There was a little girl who died in a fire we were called to.”

“Did something happen to her?”

T.K. nodded. “Someone happened to her.”

“Arson?”

“No. Her dad had beat her and her mom up, and then, he set the house on fire to cover it up.” The amount of senseless violence T.K. saw never ceased to make him sick.

“Fuck, that’s bad.”

“Yeah, and it was all my fault what happened to her.”

“No, T.K. her death wasn’t your fault. I’m sure you did everything you could to save her. I know you.”

“She was dead when we got there.”

“What do you feel guilty over, then? You couldn’t have stopped it.”

“I know that there was nothing I could have done. I didn’t even know what had happened at the time, but I saved the wrong person.”

“What do you mean?” Carlos’ brows were furrowed as he struggled to understand what was bothering T.K. so much. Carlos’ face became animated with grim understanding. “You saved her dad.”

T.K. swallowed a lump in his throat. “I had to leave her body there while I carried her abuser out.” Logically, T.K. knew that he was doing his job, and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he left a living person behind out of spite, but he hated how unfair it was when the scum of the Earth could continue living while people who did nothing wrong didn’t get that same chance. He hated that he had no control over it. He was powerless to the whims of the universe. He was powerless to his future. He was powerless to old scars that still sometimes ached as if they’d just happened. I’ve always been so powerless. “The thing I really hate,” he confessed, “is that I would have saved my dad even if he had tried to do the same to me.”

“That shows that you’re the better man.”

T.K. wanted to sob, but he let out a choked, “I’m sorry, Carlos,” instead.

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t. T.K. had been an awful husband, and he couldn’t stand himself for it.

“It’s not. I’m an asshole.”

“No, he’s the asshole..”

“It’s an inherited trait,” T.K. concluded, feeling like the worst person alive. Carlos is too nice to see the truth. He doesn’t realize that he can do so much better. “And I don’t think I’ll ever escape it.”

[pangtasias-atelier]

Ferdinand left the Empire after what happened to his family and when he found out about Hubert's off-the-book executions and assassinations. Even still, Dimitri doesn't trust him, so he keeps a close eye on him. But instead, he notices Ferd gradually getting fatter. One day, he sees Ferd pop a button after eating and it's just too much. Dimitri decides to bring Ferd to his room, forcefeed him until he's ready to burst, then claim that plump Empire butt all for himself (NSFW Drabble)

Sooo, I had a lot of fun with this one ajdnshsms. It may have been just being able to write some simple chub stuff or also just finally getting to write on my laptop but here ya go!

I'm really proud of how this one came out so I hope you enjoy it!!

And the cheesecake portion was a bit based on how I felt eating half a cheesecake sjdkskns

All smut will be tagged #risque

_________________

Strands of golden hair mar Dimitri’s face as his reflection stares back at him. His soft light blue irises of his reflection peer away from Dimitri, the edge of his eyes crinkling as he splashes some more cold water on his face. Nearly deigning the thought of waterboarding himself, the thought tumbles out of his disoriented brain as another crazed and ridiculous scene takes hold of his imagination.

Long rich orange lock cascading down, the seamlessly flawless hair swishes behind its owner as they delicately step forward. Cape forgone, the once well-tailored coat now seems far too tight. The hint of a curvaceous ass bounces under the tight oppression of the mid-knee length coat, each movement and ripple only tempting Dimitri. A dark blue belt embroidered with gold, the obvious intent upon the outfit’s inception had been to elongate and slim its wearer. Now, it only does the opposite, their bulging midsection forced into two, the soft warm pudge from his upper abdomen and lower abdomen squishing to conceal most of the belt altogether. The puff of his enlarged chest makes the opening of his coat seem larger, bulging out further to give it depth. His red cravat rests on top of his chest, as if puffing his chest out. The outline of his adipose filled body rests under it, his arms making the sleeves bulge as well. New folds and wrinkles on his clothes where there once was none, the extra weight the clear culprit, its owner seems unbothered, no upsize or let out seams done to it. Armor unneeded, their blue pants constrict and hold back his squished, compressed legs, overhanging folds of flab visible. The figure turns to Dimitri, Ferdinand smiling and waving at him. Their filled out face only adds to their idiotic charm, their bright eyes and smile illuminating the cold darkness further. A sea of blue washes them away quickly enough.

Grunting, Dimitri’s soaking face heaves. Gripping the edge of the sink, his knuckles turn white, the delicate porcelain emitting a dangerous sharp crack before he lets go. Coughing, Dimitri yanks the nearest towel. Roughly blotting his drenched face, the low sting of the fabric scratching at his face is unnoticeable, the rise and fall of his chest more important. Rising to his full height, Dimitri shifts his efforts on drying his hair. Thin strands eventually fall back into place as they dry, Dimitri tossing the towel away. Taking a deep breath, he exhales, his broad shoulders sagging.

His stomach grumbling, Dimitri heads to the dining room. No sense of taste or smell really left, grabbing something to munch on then leave, sounds ideal.

Finding Ferdinand seated, the idea suddenly feels far less than ideal. The notion of slinking away unnoticed poofs away as Ferdinand spots.

“Ah, Prince Dimitri. A pleasure to see you!” Ferdinand jovially calls from his seat before rising.

Dimitri hopes imagining the cool splash of water helps calm down the heat rushing to his face, Ferdinand’s plump figure just as ripe as his vivid imaginations. In fact, the realization of his own thoughts underselling Ferdinand's figure only makes the rising heat worse.

“Prince Dimitri, are you perhaps unwell?” A delicate yet chubby hand rests against Dimitri’s forehead.

“I’m not your prince, you needn’t worry about me,” Dimitri gently extricates Ferdinand’s hand from his forehead.

“Nonsense, I swore my absolute fealty to one deserving of it,” Ferdinand doesn’t catch the hint, wrapping his arm around Dimitri. “While I must admit, my father may have tarnished our name, I, Ferdinand Von Aegir swear that the name till holds some decency to it,” Pressing an open palm to his soft moobs, Ferdinand bows, his long flowing hair suffering the effects of gravity, the same as his stomach.

To most others, Ferdinand’s words of bravado would sound none other than those of a pathetic socialite wishing to worm their way into whichever upper echelon of society. But to everyone else, Ferdinand’s manner of bearing his entire heart on his sleeve is his charm, the overly enthusiastic noble meaning well.

Originally a part of the Black Eagles house, Ferdinand had quickly become a fixture of the Blue Lions after a few months of Byleth’s cajoling. Upon Edelgard’s declaration of war, he had left for Adestria upon Byleth’s disappearance only to quickly come back upon hearing news of their return. The reunion with his former classmates had been moderately well received, Mercedes and Ashe no strangers to kindness, until Dimitri’s sighting of Ferdinand had nearly left the former Adrestian noble with a spear in his abdomen. With Byleth’s insistence, Dimitri had tsked but ultimately skulked away, his dreadful lumbering footsteps etching their way into everyone’s mind.

Dimitri still partially not all quite there, he had thankfully resigned ignoring Ferdinand just the same as everyone else, a tense uneasy partnership occurring between Dimitri and everyone else. It hadn’t been until much later that Dimitri snapped out of it, slowly easing himself back into the human emotions that he had casted away. And upon gaining focus on his fellow members, Dimitri’s eyes found that removing focus from Ferdinand was proving to be rather challenging.

And while a part of it had to do with his infectious cheerful nature, the other part of his clearly had to do with Ferdinand’s body. Lithe muscle nowhere to be found, the initial realization of enjoying the view of Ferdinand’s heft had led to some confusion before that strayed to wondering how it must feel, so warm and soft.

Which made it increasingly harder for Dimitri to speak to Ferdinand.

“Thank you,” Dimitri clears his suddenly parched throat. “Ferdinand,” Even speaking his name brings a trickle of warmth in his chest, the thought of whispering it to him, the two huddled together, clothes strewn about as-

“Of course. Well, I’m sure you must be famished after our sparring session earlier, you nearly rushed out after we finished,” Hand encapsulating Dimitri’s Ferdinand leads him back to his table, half his plate left uneaten.

The servers immediately bringing, a plate to Dimitri, the serving of chicken with vegetables is barely a spoonful more than Ferdinand’s remnants. Only a couple of bites into the meal, Dimitri’s fork hangs still, midway to his mouth, upon the sound of a dull ping hitting the floor. Reflexively looking around, Dimitri spots the culprit. Careful to not keep his mouth agape, a button on Ferdinand’s coat had popped off, his vest showing.

Ferdinand’s eyes wide, his hands scramble to cover the mishap.

Unable to process anything else, Dimitri stands up and grabs Ferdinand’s hand. Leading him away, Ferdinand’s puffs of complaints and questions draw some attention from the few people littered around the monastery at this semi-late hour. Upon reaching his room, the two step in, Ferdinand highly confused as he stutters out half-baked apologies, too focused on trying to hide the noticeable gap in his coat from his popped button.

Dimitri absorbing the situation, he balks at himself for being so rash. To drag Ferdinand to his room, all for what? For the unlikely chance of something more. And the far more likely chance of making things impossibly awkward between the two. Yet glancing back at the other man, Dimitri finds his worries washing away, Ferdinand staring at him with a sudden shyness.

“I…” Dimitri clamps his mouth, the trapdoor of awkwardness closing and opening. “I think you’re handsome,” His eye shut tight, the ensuing silence drives him mad, the silence unable to be stabbed like most other things.

“You truly believe so?” Ferdinand’s eyes already misting at the edge, his amber eyes remain in tentative shock. He reaches a shaky hand downward. “Despite all this?” Grabbing his stomach, the pile of supple fat only seems larger so up close.

“Because of all this,” Gently laying a hand on Ferdinand’s love handle, Dimtri brings him closer. One arm wrapped around him, the tight embrace allows him to feel nearly every inch of Ferdinand, everything so soft. Leaning down, Dimitri holds up Ferdinand’s chin, his thumb gently rubbing the edge of his lips. With bated breath, his lips crash into Ferdinand’s. The excessive force makes him stumble, Dimitri’s rough hand on his lower back keeping him steady. Huffing, Dimitri pulls back. His face a red shade, the tint is nothing but a red ant to the sun in comparison to Ferdinand’s blazing face.

“I have something I need to prepare. Don’t leave,” Turning around, Dimitri stumbles back at the awkward exit. Professing his love only to leave. Turning back around, he grabs Ferdinand’s hand with his own once more. “Please,” Gently squeezing it, Ferdinand nods, his face not losing a single tint to his radiant red hue.

Slowly making his way back into the hall, the instant Dimitri feels he’s out of ears reach, he rushes. Taking long strides, he scares the poor merchants in the marketplace with his sudden appearance. Knowing the time, the leftover selection from the bakery’s goods for the day are surprisingly still abundant. Nearly reaching for enough money to buy the entire selection, he calms his overactive brain. Setting on a somewhat more reasonable selection, he instead purchases an entire cheesecake.

The cake in hand, it takes all his nerves of dropping the cake to not rush back. Not even having been gone for what can possibly be more than a few minutes, the fear of Ferdinand leaving keeps his pace quick, Dimitri finding himself back in front of his door in no time.

The door nearly slamming open, Ferdinand jumps up. His stomach sloshing about, he gingerly places a hand on it. His eyes avert themselves from the cake in Dimitri’s hands, Ferdinand’s face flushed.

Wordlessly, Dimitri cuts a slice, the huge chunk a quarter of the entire cake. Ferdinand ready to accept, an insistent hand from Dimitri stops him. Grabbing a bit with a fork, Dimitri expectantly brings it to Ferdinand’s mouth, his good eye agape.

“Oh,” Letting out a chuckle, Ferdinand takes a gulp before taking a bite of the cake. His face alighting from the taste, Ferdinand happily accepts the second bite. And then the third. And then each ensuing bite until the slice is finished. Enough leverage allowed from one button already destroyed, the rest remain snugly but securely on his bulging stomach. Dimitri immediately cuts another slice. Ferdinand’s eyes widen, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. “I didn’t know you were into…” Ferdinand pauses, considering his words. “Such things,”

Dimitri nearly nods, bringing another bite to Ferdinand.

“If you insist,” Shakily taking another bite, the sweet cool creamy texture of the cake lulls him back to his enjoyment of the delicacy. Unfastening his belt, Ferdinand lets out a sigh before he sits upright, Dimitri’s free hand rubbing it. Another bite offered, Ferdinand keeps at, only slowing down near the end of the slice, both his hands on his own engorged stomach along with Dimitris. “Dimitri,” Ferdinand groans, huffing as he lies down. “I can’t anymore,” Pawing at his own belly, the mass of fat and food rises into the air with each strained breath.

A hand caressing his cheek, Ferdinand lets out an ‘oof’ as Dimitri helps him sit. His gut resting on his plump thighs, Ferdinand merely groans. A hand on his coat, he yelps as Dimitri tears it, the buttons flying across the room. A hand on his waistline, his suddenly unbuttoned pants give him some breathing room. His vest grabbed, Ferdinand obligingly lifts up his arms, the sense of freedom for his aching gut relieving. His undershirt goes next, both tossed into a heap on the floor. A hand tugging at his pants, Ferdinand pauses, resting his hand on top of Dimitri’s. Dimitri’s calm face staring at his, Ferdinand lets him continue, Ferdinand left in nothing but the tight fabric of his boxers.

Resting his back against the wall. Ferdinand continues to groan. Some more shuffling fabric, he keeps his eyes closed until more cake is pressed against his lips. He does, however, ignore the noticeable erection in Dimitri’s pants, Ferdinand somehow redder than before.

Dimitri shirtless, he holds the last half of the cheesecake.Ferdinand huffs. “You love cheesecake,” Dimitri whispers.

“Sometimes there are limits,” Dimitri’s hands not moving, Ferdinand scoffs. “You beast,” But that doesn’t stop Ferdinand smiling as he accepts the heaping bite of cake.

Wishing to get on it, patience not one of Dimitri’s stongsuits, he spears the cake with his fork, heaping portions offered each time Ferdinand almost finishes one bite. His chewing slows down, his swallowing slows down, the smack of his squirrel cheeks slow down, Ferdinand reaching dangerous levels of full.

Bits of cream on his lips, remnants from his dozes of prior bits still remain in his mouth, willing himself to eat more. Swallowing, the bits feel like lead slowly dropping down only to punch his gut on the way there. “Dimitri. I don’t think I can,” Groaning, he smears the frosting with his arm, the pale flesh on his arm jiggling. “Truly,”

“You can,” Dimitri rubs slow circles on Ferdinand’s gut. “Just a few more bites, I know you can do it,” Bringing the second to last bite, Dimitri forcefully shoves it in, Ferdinand struggling to chew it. His heavy breathing coming from his nose now, before he can swallow the last bits, Dimitri shoves the last heaping forkful in his mouth, Ferdinand painfully smacking his tired lips in an attempt to finish it all.

Wasting no time, Dimitri helps Ferdinad rest his back against his bed. Ferdinand’s labored chewing and groans egging him, he quickly disrobes, his slim yet built body glistening in anticipation. Gripping Ferdinand’s boxers, he tugs them off to reveal his own chubbed up dick, the thick shaft of it slowly engorging. Climbing onto the bed, Dimitri rests his knees right in front of Ferdinand’s dick.

Ferdinand finally finishes the cake, his mouth so dry and tired. “I…. ugghhh,” Clinging the bedsheets, his hands go to his bulging midsection as Dimitri lifts up his legs. His moobs squishing into his double chin, his overtaxed stomach rests heavily as the overfilled lump falls down.

Dimitri placing his arms under Ferdinand’s legs, he slowly aligns himself. His dick slick with precum, he slowly enters. Dimitri groans as the warmth of Ferdinand’s hole envelops his dick. Ferdinand right underneath him, his breath turns labored as Ferdinand squirms, rubbing his stomach.

“I’ll take care of that in a bit,” Leaning forward, Dimitri kisses Ferdinand, a trail of saliva sticking as they part. Ferdinand grimaces as his legs bend a bit more than they’re used to at this weight, nodding his head instead.

Unable to wait much longer, Dimitri thrusts into Ferdinand, Ferdinand’s hands now reaching for Dimitri’s back. Ferdinand’s noises sounding under him, the always chipper, bright man simply huffs under Dimitri, biting his lips as he tries to hold back his moans.

Wishing to get closer, Dimitri wraps his arms under Ferdinand, embracing him as he humps him. Digging his head into the crevice of Ferdinand’s neck, Dimitri huffs.

“D-dimitri,” Ferdinand gutturally moans, right into his ear. Cum sticking against his warm body, Dimitri nearly chuckles as Ferdinand cums so early. His body reprimanding him, his knees buckle as he feels himself so dangerously close, his throbbing dick begging for a release. Giving in, Dimitri crushes Ferdinand in his embrace, his soft supple body digging into his muscles.

"Tired,” Dimitri's arms shake. Huffing, he ignores his own seed slowly spilling out of Ferdinand's ass, as he pulls out. Ferdinand exhausted, his belly rises with each tired labored breath he takes. No important task required of him tomorrow, Dimitri reserves the task of cleaning themselves up tomorrow with a warm shared shower. Crawling beside Ferdinand, Ferdinand leans back into Dimitri as his body is cradled in Dimitri's built arms. Spooning Ferdinand, he breathes in his scent, his dreams knowing peace as he dreams of fattening Ferdinand further.