#is this too loud?????? let me know ill lower the volume

[bi-focal12]

i feel like my writing has been on a steady decline lately, so pls enjoy this offering from a writing class that i took last spring (when i felt my writing was getting a lot better). it was one of the first, serious original writing pieces i worked on and i definitely leaned on bakugou katsuki's personality to help inform how i wrote Tony lol, but i was pleasantly surprised with the outcome!

i'd love to hear your thoughts (and if anyone's interested in beta-ing my i7 work, pls message me!)

it never got a title but i suppose ill call it...

In Ten Year's Time (1,737 words, original one-shot)

The bus was late.

Tony slumped further in his seat, trying to tune out the chattering next to him while the hard metal rungs of the bench dug further into his back. Tony didn't care if Maria's youngest child had finally started kindergarten or if the acne-ridden line cook sitting in between them was saving up to go to flight school. He did care that their conversation was making the words of his essay prompt swim on the page, 'night shift' and 'empty nest' burrowing an unwanted space between 'where do you see yourself in ten years?'.

Hopefully by then he'd be done waiting at this stupid bus stop.

Maria cackled loudly at something Acne Face had said and Tony took a deep breath through his nose, bouncing his left leg and focusing more intently on the notebook balanced on his right.

In ten years I will be, he wrote, pencil jerking when one of them- Maria, probably- began playing a video clip that started out like an air raid siren. Old people never knew how to fucking lower their volume in public. Tony didn't bother erasing the jagged line that streaked across his page or the one knitting his eyebrows together.

...in anger management, he finished wryly. Or jail.

Maria's shiny clump of necklaces caught the light as she leaned forward and Tony made the mistake of glancing up to investigate, caught in the headlights of her searching gaze while the large man in between them tried to respectfully shrink into nothingness.

"I'm sorry honey," she said apologetically, the remnant of a laugh still caught in her throat. "Are we being too loud?"

Tony grit his teeth against his instinctual, biting response. As much as she was getting on his nerves now, Maria was unbearably nice to him and always dropped off an apple pie during the holidays.

"A bit," he forced out, along with his best half-smile.

Her pleasant expression- endlessly patient while he searched his vocabulary for words that wouldn't sting- turned apologetic and Tony's stomach soured. "It's- it's whatever," he amended, turning away. "I was gonna wrap it up anyways. Bus should be here soon."

"Still," she said softly, followed by an awkward apology from the line cook that might have been the result of an expectant look from Maria. Tony couldn't be sure, eyes locked on an uninteresting pebble.

He rolled it around beneath the sole of his show for the five seconds it took for him to become bored, then kicked it and watched the rock skate clumsily over the curb and into the empty space beyond. Where the bus should be.

"Tory's not picking you up, today?" Maria continued pleasantly.

Tony shook his head, biting down a mean grin while imagining the way his mother's face would scrunch up at the nickname. "Nah."

"Well," Maria replied, the sigh and shifting fabric letting him know that she'd given up on eye contact, "might still be faster if she gets you from here."

"What?" Tony asked, turning his head only to be met with a pale, tattooed bicep. With a barely audible huff, he leaned forward to see around the line cook. "But the bus is supposed to come at four," he insisted.

The line cook chuckled and Tony scowled at him, unencumbered by apple-pie shaped shackles.

The man reigned himself in with an awkward cough. "I don't know where you heard that," he said, "but this bus never shows up earlier than five."

Tony stared at him, then Maria, then the line cook again. The man offered him a shrug.

"Five," Tony repeated blandly.

"Five," they agreed.

Tony clenched his fists, silently burying himself in his backpack to escape their sympathetic grimaces but he could still feel their eyes on the back of his neck like a rash. He rifled carelessly through notebooks and folders and textbooks, crumpling half of them in his wake before coming back up with a fresh sheet of paper and the stub of a pencil.

The stubs were harder to snap.

Tony chewed on the inside of his cheek and tuned out the tentative chatter starting up again on his right.

Where do you see yourself in ten years?

Tony scribbled his name on the top of the page, first and last. Then the date. Then the name of his homeroom teacher just for the hell of it, trying to at least look like he was busy and not avoiding the rest of the page.

"College applications, huh?" the line cook commented.

Tony's nostrils flared. Apparently he didn't look busy enough.

"Oh, Angelica had such an awful time with hers," Maria lamented. Tony had already chosen his prompt but he leaned further over his paper to write down the other two. "Something about who you'd want to have dinner with? Honestly, how a college can pick you based on your dinner guests makes no sense to me," she complained, huffing, "and if Mother Teresa isn't good enough for them then they're not good enough for my daughter."

The line cook whistled appreciatively, a bit of mirth slipping out in the shade of his voice. "You tell 'em."

Tony slowly uncurled from his hunched over position, not quite turning his head to face them.

"Angelica got rejected?"

"Mm," Maria agreed solemnly. "Three times." Then she shrugged, the bitterness alighting from her shoulders like birds on a wire. "But she'd happy where she is."

Tony tapped his pencil stub against his knee, retreating from the conversation once more.

Angelica was two years older than him and he only ever really saw her at church or the odd Christmas party but he knew for a fact she had ranked first in her year. Hell, he'd overheard her reciting her valedictorian speech instead of prayer during communion too many times to count.

Tony pulled out his phone, tapping until he found the right screen.

He held his breath.

S. Antonio, 42

And kept holding it, idly wishing that he could just pass out and not have to deal with college applications anymore. He imagined a puppet doctor in a crisp white lab coat saying, Sorry ma'am, turns out your kid's terminally ill and needs to be exempt from college applications. Bed rest only.

His little wooden limbs would jangle as he shrugged.

Then he imagined his puppet mother pointing in the doctor's face, demanding that they heal him because Tony wasn't allowed to die before becoming a doctor himself and the puppet doctor would droop like his strings had been cut and do as he was told because Tony's mother controlled the universe.

"Uh...hey, kid? Everything alright over there?"

Tony's head snapped up to the line cook, blinking away his daydream and the black spots while he heaved in a lungful of air as subtly as possible. "I'm fine," he spat on the exhale.

Tony's pencil stub lay on the ground between his feet, having slipped from his shaky hands. The sheet of paper, still mostly blank, lay plastered to his thigh.

"Essay that hard?" the line cook asked lightly, lips quirked up in a careful smile.

Tony sneered in the face of it, bristling. "No," he snapped. Heart pounding and lungs still trembling, Tony sat up straighter and gave the man a onceover. "I know damn well where I don't want to be in ten years."

The man's eyes widened but a chuckle was quick to follow. "On your way home to the love of your life after a good day at work?"

Tony's mouth fell open, letting loose a weak, "I-"

"Antonio!" his mother called, her sleek gray car pulling into the space in front of the bench. Right where the bus should be. "Get in, what're you waiting around for?"

Tony scrambled to shove his things back into his bag, staunchly avoiding eye contact and standing before he was finished, nearly tripping for his efforts. The back of his neck burned.

"Nice to see you, Tory," Maria called.

Victoria's mouth pursed, then smoothed out into what she probably thought was polite neutrality, fingers tapping the steering wheel at regular intervals. "You too," she said, voice so falsely sweet it could rot your teeth. Tony wondered if they could tell. "How's Angelica doing? I heard she moved back home?"

Tony paused, hand on the open frame of the passenger side door. His mother's interest might not have been genuine but Tony knew as soon as he was inside the car she'd be off without waiting for the answer. He stepped away to load his bag in the backseat, instead.

"She's happy," Maria replied, the serene smile audible in her voice. "Rediscovering her passions." Tony's mother offered a noncommittal hum, sharp eyes darting to her son's hesitating form. "And your children?" Maria inquired.

"Oh, they're wonderful," Tony's mother replied. "Brock's nearly finished with law school now. Columbia. And of course, Antonio here's getting ready to apply to all the best schools in the country." She smiled, polished teeth flashing. "A little doctor in the making."

Tony kept his eyes low as he slipped into the passenger seat and his mother hardly waited for the door to shut behind him before pulling away. For a few, long moments neither of them said anything, letting the quiet hum of the engine permeate the empty space the way other families listened to the radio. Tony's leg bounced silently.

"Maria's nice," he finally said, the statement hanging in the air like a reprimand.

His mother's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Mhmm."

Tony rolled the words around behind his teeth, weighing the risks, before adding a careful, "So's her wife."

"Did I say anything unsavory?" his mother snapped. Tony shook his head, shifting in his seat to stare determinedly out the window, cursing his inability to disappear or turn back time or sew his mouth shut.

"Well?" she pressed.

Tony wished he hadn't said anything at all. "No."

"That's what I thought," she said shortly. Then she sighed. "I don't know why you always have to paint me as the villain, Antonio."

"Sorry," Tony muttered quietly.

In his head, he wrote, In ten years, I do not want to be like my mother.

In his head, he wrote, Maybe I'll sit on a bus bench with a friend after a good day of work and won't daydream about dying.

Maybe I won't even mind if the bus is late.

[anneimaginesundertale]

(Sick day with Papyrus?)

I've done something like this with Papyrus as the sick one HERE, so let's see what the Great Papyrus would do when you get sick! (I've got a bit of a cold myself, at the moment. Someone bring me a handsome skeleton. It's the only cure!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't entirely sure how, but Papyrus had convinced you to go for a walk with him almost every morning. He came over to your house bright and early (you'd had to have a chat about not coming over before the sun was up, unless it was raining or snowing) and the two of you went on a stroll around the neighborhood. You actually started looking forward to it, although you definitely liked it more for the time spent with your sweet skeleton than the actual walking part.

This morning, though, you didn't even get up off the couch when your bony boyfriend bounced through your door. "Good morning, my sweet human!" he said. "Are you ready for our daily walk?"

You moaned. "Not so loud, Pap..." Your voice was a croak. "I'm sick." As if to prove the point, you sniffed loudly and wiped your running nose with a tissue.

Papyrus zipped across the room to your side. He clasped your hands. "You poor thing! I'm sorry you're not feeling well! Of course the Great Papyrus won't make you go walking when you're ill. Instead, I will now spend the day here with you to help you feel better! That is what a good datemate does!"

You smiled, even though his voice was still kind of too loud. "Thanks, sweetie," you said. "You're the best."

"I know it!"

"Could you take the volume down a little more, please? My head hurts..."

Papyrus lowered his voice to a whisper. "Is this better?"

"Uh huh."

"Right! Now what can I get you to help you feel better?"

"Um...there's some medicine in the kitchen, and...maybe some tea?"

"As you wish!" He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and raced off to get what you needed.

At the end of the day Papyrus carried you to your bed and tucked you in. He'd been so sweet all day. You hugged him. "I love you, Papy," you whispered. "Thank you so much for taking care of me."

He hugged you back. "I love you too, and it was my pleasure. That is what a good datemate does. I will always take care of you, Y/N. Good night!"

[dailyedgeworth]

today, do you remember?????

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   —   pairing: kazutora x reader

♡   —   summary: after a long day at work, you want nothing but to spend a calm night with your boyfriend. however, you have no idea this is the night were all his demons finally get the best of him.

♡   —   tags/warnings: female reader, angst, breakups, hurt feelings everywhere, mention on mental illnesses and nightmares, based on ben platt’s song ‘carefully’, mention of tora’s job in one of the future timelines.

♡   —   a/n: i enjoyed writing kazutora so. damn. much. also, i’m quite proud of this one and the small details i added~ thank you @ofoceansandtombstones​​ for being my lovely beta <3

♡   —  masterlist

And all this time you've had a gentle way of holding me

So could you please release me that way too?

— “carefully” by Ben Platt

“It’s open, come in!”

The first thing Kazutora sees when he opens the door of your apartment is you, kneeling on the kitchen floor and picking up pieces of a broken baking dish. Red sauce has splattered everywhere and his mind betrays him for a second, imagining an accident far worse than what has truly happened. He blinks twice and starts to notice the small details that finally slow down the fast beating of his heart. There are pieces of chicken breasts next to the open oven door and what he thinks are sliced carrots next to your right knee.

You hiss when you pick up a piece of the shattered glass, the sharp end pinching your finger. Kazutora comes back to his senses, widening his eyes as he realizes he’s just been standing there.

“Hey, let me. You’ll cut yourself,” he warns, walking up to you. Grabbing both your hands, he eases you into your feet and then guides you to the living room. “I’ll take care of it,” he promises as he goes back to the kitchen and starts cleaning up the mess.

You let yourself fall on the sofa with a loud thud and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I just had the most awful day,” you whine, taking off your apron and leaving it on the arm of the sofa.  “Work was hell, I got scolded by something that I didn’t do— like always, only this time my boss was all like: ‘You gotta be more careful, we wouldn’t want to lose such a valuable employee’. Like he was going to fire me over someone else’s mistake?!”

Your voice is getting louder by the minute and you take advantage of the fact Kazutora is in another room to keep the volume. You have been waiting the entire day to see him and vent about what a trainwreck you day had been. Just as always, he listens intently, the only noise coming from the kitchen being a soft scraping sound as he picks up everything and throws it to the trash. 

“Then, I went to the store and of course they had run out of basil. Tell me, how does a store that big run out of basil?” you ask. There’s no answer from the kitchen so you continue. “I mean, yeah, I could have gone to another store but my feet were killing me. I’m just not meant to work in heels the entire day,” you sigh tiredly, swinging your feet.

You reposition yourself, now sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Putting your right hand on your left shoulder, you stretch your neck, feeling your sore muscles releasing a bit of tension with a small ‘pop’.

“I ended up preparing something entirely different than I had planned for dinner. I tried to let it go but just as I was going to put it in the oven, it slipped my hands and—”

“I think we should break up.”

Words die in your lips the moment you listen to your boyfriend speak. The silence becomes loud and abrasive as you struggle to understand what was happening. Why was Kazutora breaking up with you with such a small voice? What had triggered him to come to that conclusion? Why had he decided to bring it up now? You turn your head to the kitchen door and watch him slowly make his way towards you, doubtful steps as he takes a seat on the other side of the sofa, avoiding your eyes at all costs.

“What?” you ask, your voice hoarse. His lips form a tight line and you see him swallowing nervously.

“I’m not doing okay— haven’t been for a while. I— it’s been two years since I left prison and I still haven’t— I don’t— I don’t know what I’m doing,” he explains, looking down at his hands.

You nod slowly, trying to comprehend where he’s coming from. Turning your body towards him, you take a deep breath before speaking.

“It’s okay not to know,” you assure him in a soft voice. “Just… take it slow. One day at a time and then I’m sure you’ll—”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Kazutora confesses and you notice his voice wavering a little. “I— I keep having nightmares about— about that day and— and also about the motorcycle shop. Those two mix up and…” he takes one of his hands to the side of his head, his fingers grazing his temple. “And I’m hitting Baji in the head. And there’s so much blood— so, so much blood and—”

Leaning forward, you take his hands. They’re shaking and extremely cold and you rub your thumb over his knuckles, trying your best to soothe him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now, Tora, you’re—”

Kazutora pulls his hands away hastily, leaving a tingling sensation on your palms.

“I can’t!” he says as he shakes his head. You spend a moment looking at your empty hands, never before having felt your boyfriend’s rejection. “I feel like I’m drowning and— You know what? I think relationships just aren’t for me,” he shrugs, his hands moving in exaggerated gestures. “That’s why I never cared for dating, never got myself involved in that kind of shit, not until—”

He finally looks at you and, fuck, you wish he didn’t. You’re not sure if you have the strength to deal with such hurtful discourse. You lick your lips and take yet another deep breath, deciding to ignore his hurtful remark.

“I’m… so sorry you’re feeling this way,” you say, slowing down your words, trying your best not to show how hurt you were. This isn’t him, you tell yourself. So no need for that tightness in your throat. “But you have to understand it’s not because of me. It’s because of everything that you’ve gone through and how hard it’s to deal with them. I don’t blame you, it is hard. But this… us,” you gesture to the both of you. “This is a good thing. Despite all the pain and hurt we’ve both been through, we—”

“Please, stop,” he says, raising his hand and pressing his eyelids together. “I can’t be with you anymore. That’s it, that’s all—”

“So you don’t love me anymore?” you counter. You scoff in disbelief, shaking your head. Kazutora’s eyes shoot open and you notice his pupils shaking in fear, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I love you,” he breathes out, and for a moment you see the boy you fell in love with in his amber eyes that are quickly filling with tears. “I do love you but it’s killing me. I feel like I’m dying,” he chokes out. He looks away from you once more and starts tugging at his fingers. “I’m rotting inside and I don’t know what to do to make it better. I just want it to stop. I want it to stop and— I don’t want you around when I’m like this. I want to figure out what the hell is happening and—”

“But if you love me and I love you then why—”

“I’m not happy with you!”

Kazutora widens his eyes, scared by his loud outburst. He parts his lips, silently muttering nonsense as he tries to come up with words that can make it better. You lower your head and he wants to punch himself over it. He doesn’t want to make you cry, not after everything you’ve done for him. Is he really going to be the person that hurt the one that made a home for him in her embrace? Is he going to hurt the only person that was brave enough to pick up the pieces of his shattered soul?

“I’m…” he babbles, in a soft voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

You snort. “No, you really did mean it, Tora.”

He can sense the hurt and sadness in your voice, even if now you’re the one that won’t look at him. He watches helplessly as you stand up and walk towards the living room window in complete silence. The apron you took off is still on the couch and the vast memories of all the times he embraced you while you were wearing it quickly fill his mind.

He wishes there was a way he could keep you. But no matter how much he wants to, he knows there really is no other way. He’s thought about this countless times. He has gone to work without getting proper sleep, stared at his blank tv screen for hours on end, trying to come up with a plan where he could keep you. Was staying with the person he loved the most too much to ask?

No matter in how many shades of light or with how much care he handled the memory of you, the only way he could spare you the greatest amount of pain was to leave you— even if he knew he’d end up shattering your heart as well.

Kazutora notices the way your fingers tightly close around the edge of the window, your knuckles turning white. He had come to terms that he’d lose you today, yet he never expected for it to be this way. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. If hating him would mend your wounds faster, then he’d take it. Anything that would make the heartache he was causing you a little bit lighter. He knew you were the last person on Earth that deserved to go to bed carrying that much pain in her soul.

Looking out the window, you focus on a small girl walking her dog on the street. It’s a brown labrador and by the size of it, it’s barely a puppy. Rather than walk, it jumps on its four legs, his little head looking back at the girl every chance he has as he happily wags his tail. The pet shop Kazutora and Chifuyu work at immediately comes to mind. Would it be like this from now on? Small things eliciting memories of your days together without your consent and leaving a sour taste in your mouth?

You will need to find a new commute, you think, as you had been stopping by the pet shop on your way home for the past year. Is there another bus that you could take? As you try to remember the lines and their respective routes, you’re engulfed by the memory of the first time Kazutora dozed off with his head resting on your shoulder as you rode the bus together. You close your eyes and you can clearly see his peaceful expression and slightly parted lips as he slept, his fingers tightly intertwined with yours. His breathing is slow and his hands are cold and you wish you could go back, even for a minute and place a kiss on top of his head, since you wouldn’t be able to do so from now on.

Where exactly had you failed? You had just been complaining about your day when he dropped the bomb. Did you complain too much? Did you talk too much? Or was it you the one that was too much? You tried your best and supported him as much as you could but as it turns out, it hadn’t been enough. Good intentions were nothing but useless as you were now saying goodbye to the man you had loved the most.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Kazutora’s cold knuckles against your cheek, wiping your tears. You gasp, startled by his touch and take a couple steps back until your back hits the wall. It takes a few seconds for him to bring his hand now, unsure on what to do next.

He looks so scared and small— it fills your heart with frustration. Your whole body is screaming to take a step forward and comfort him, cradle him in your arms like so many times before, assure him he’s safe with you and that he doesn’t have to worry anymore. That, if you can still go home to each other at the end of a bad day, you can take anything life throws at you.

But that’s the thing. You’re not each other’s home anymore. You don’t get to bury your face in his neck and hum happily when his perfume reaches your nose. You don’t get to have him take a nap on your lap as you watch a series or feel his lips ghost against yours seconds before colliding in a kiss.

You hate it. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking down at his feet. “Please, don’t cry.”

“You know what, Kazutora?” you say, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You taste venom in your words, yet that doesn’t stop you. “If you’re not happy with me, then what are you doing here?”

He flinches at your words. Biting his inner cheek, he nods, still incapable of holding your gaze.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters. “I’ll go. I really am sorry.”

Kazutora turns on his heel, walking towards the door. Maybe it’s the way you know he’s not coming back this time that makes your desperation afloat. You don’t want him to go and you also know you can’t make him stay. And even if somehow you could find a way to keep him by your side, it would be worthless.

He’s just not happy with you.

“Are you happy somewhere else, though?” you ask, your words leaving your mouth before your head has time to process them. He stumbles on his feet and stops. “Because if you just can’t manage to be happy, then it’s not on me.”

Kazutora doesn’t have to turn for you to know he’s second guessing himself. The next seconds feel like years as he just stands there, mid-way to the front door, thoughts so messy and loud you can almost hear them.

“That doesn’t matter,” he finally says with his back to you. He closes his fists and you see his shoulders rising and falling as he takes a deep breath. “This way you don’t have to deal with... with the mess I am and—”

“Oh, please, I knew what I was getting into when I started dating an ex-convict.”

The weight of your words fall onto you the moment they leave your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, muttering a curse. It takes no time for you to walk towards Kazutora, standing between him and the door.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tora, I didn’t— you know I didn’t mean it that way. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you whimper, tears flowing free down your cheeks. Your wave your shaky hands, desperate to make your point across. “I just wanted to say I knew things would be difficult but I loved you— I love you and I—”

Kazutora shakes his head, a gentle yet sad smile on his face as he takes your hands in his. He holds them in front of his chest, squeezing them gently as they don’t stop trembling.

“Stop, it’s okay,” he assures you. “That’s what I am.”

“It’s not,” you protest. “I mean— yeah, but you’re more than that. You’re so much more than that. You’re caring, you’re noble— you’re so tender with the animals at your shop. You’re so sweet with me, always checking if I’ve eaten and offering to help me out if I have chores I need to do. You always come pick me up if I’m working late. You— you’re so fucking special to me.”

Kazutora’s lips form a tight line. “I wish I could see that,” he whispers.

“Then just— let me try. Let me try until you can look at yourself the way I do,” you almost beg. You let go of the hold he has on your hands to gently cradle his face. “I’ll do anything, but... don’t patronize me. I’m not a little girl. Whatever life throws at me, I’ve always been able to handle it. No— we’ll handle it. Together. Like it’s always been, you and me, I just— please, I don’t want you to go,” you cry. “We were going to be happy together, you were going to live with me and I’d give you half my drawers and half my closet and half… half everything. Please, don’t go. Don’t go, Tora.”

The sadness in his amber eyes only confirms what you’ve been fearing this whole time. You sob, your thumbs softly stroking his cheeks as you feel the world crumbling around you. This time, he doesn’t stop you, letting you cry as you hold his face, coming to terms with the fact he’s really leaving after all.

Your hands move to his hair, gently threading your fingers across his long, dark locks. Tracing the outline of his face, you push one of the dyed streaks away, only for it to fall back right where it was before. You can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips. He’s so pretty, you think, as the pads of your fingers gently caress his face. Your thumb grazes the space between his bottom lip and his chin and you dream of a world when he’s not saying goodbye, but rather falling asleep under your touch on your shared bed. You never knew loving someone as much as you loved him was possible-- yet the way your heart was crumbling in pieces was evidence of how much your soul was aching by being separated from the person it belonged to.

Sniffling, you rub your cheek against your shoulder to wipe your tears. You swallow before raising another question.

“Is this a… temporary thing? Or for good?” Your voice comes out in a whisper as you place down your hands on his shoulders.

“I don’t know,” he answers. He wants nothing more than to put his arms around your body like so many times before, but he’s aware that it will only make things more difficult. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting in vain. You should move on.”

Kazutora realizes how much he hates the idea as it leaves his lips. The idea of you starting over with someone else rots in his tongue. He doesn’t want you to hold anyone’s face the way you were just holding his. He wants to keep you all to himself, to go to endless visits to the grocery shop, to watch you fall asleep during movie night and then pretend you didn’t, to massage your hands as you tell him about his day.

But you don’t deserve the guck that’s forming inside his mind. He knows it’s only a matter of time before it comes out pouring and reaches you. And he’ll be damned if he lets himself ruin the one good thing he’s had in his life for many years. He promised to himself he wouldn’t let his ill state of mind touch his loved ones. Never again.

He watches you nod and feels his heart shattering, even if everything is going just the way he intended. You rub his shoulders and look into his eyes, a sad smile on the pretty lips he would never get to kiss again.

“Okay,” you sigh. “We’ll end this but… when you leave, never doubt how loved you were. No— how loved you are. I don’t know what is coming for either of us but… I do know a part of my heart will always belong to you, no matter who I hold hands with. I will always love you, Tora.”

Your words are enough to finally break him. Kazutora clutches your body tightly against him as he loudly sobs against your shoulder. You hold him, tears flowing free once again as you try and soothe the man you love, leaving small kisses on the side of his head and whispering soft reassurances that it’s okay. It’s not, you tell yourself. It’s never going to be okay. But it has to be.

Carefully, you move him back to the sofa, helping him sit down while he refuses to let go of his hold on your body. You lean on the back pillows, both your arms cradling him while he whimpers like a small child. Kazutora clutches the fabric of your sweater with desperation, wishing there was a way he could stay with you.

Why does he have to give up the person that had put a smile back on his face? He can’t quite remember a time when his stomach had hurt out of laughter before he ever met you. Or when he’d experienced such peace as the night he stayed at your apartment and got to see your sleeping face first thing in the morning. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves you and, for all he knows, he may never love like this again. 

But he could never risk tainting you. He would never be able to forgive himself.

Kazutora softly pulls away from your embrace. His eyes are blotchy and red and you’re sure yours look the same or even worse. His nose is red, like it always does when he cries. It’s endearing, you think. Everything about him, from his hair, to his eyes, his hands— you’ve come to love every part of Kazutora. And that’s exactly why it’s so hard to let him go.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says in a whisper, resting the side of his head on the back pillows of the sofa.

“Like what?” you ask, gently pushing his hair away from his face and behind his ear.

“Like I matter to you. Like I’m making a huge mistake.”

You take a deep breath. Imitating him, you rest your head on the back pillows as well, so you’re both facing each other.

“I don’t— I don’t fully understand what you’re going through,” you admit, your eyes locked on his. “But if you need to… get away, then you should. You’ve been nothing but loving to me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, whether it’s with me or not. You deserve to fully experience all the beautiful things life has to offer.”

Silent tears fall from both your cheeks and his.

“I should be thankful I got to love you for this whole year. Because even if it ends this way… God, I loved you so much,” you sniffle, letting out a small laugh. “And I felt so loved. Isn’t that magical in itself? That we got to love each other at the same time?” you wonder with a sad smile.

Kazutora parts his lips, yet the doorbell interrupts him before he can even speak. You look at the front door, your eyebrows furrowing for a moment before you realize who’s probably there.

“Food’s here,” you say, wiping the tears from your face.

“Food?” Kazutora asks, confused.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Didn’t I tell you? The baking dish broke so I called that restaurant, the one with the burgers we like.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t really listening back then,” he admits with a pang of guilt. He sits up on the couch and turns his head at you. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

You sit up as well. “I ordered for the two of us. C’mon, stay for dinner. Let’s… remember us this way, okay? Without so many tears and sadness,” you offer, tilting your head towards him. “I even ordered your favourite one.”

Kazutora rubs his face with his sleeve, erasing the trail of the tears he just shed. Looking at you, he nods, drawing a small smile on his lips.

“Okay. I’ll get it.”

He only walks a few steps towards the door before he feels you tugging at the back of his shirt. Turning around, he notices you’re standing right behind him. Your eyes look up to him, biting your bottom lip and not even a ghost of the smile you previously offered him.

“Before that, uh— I want you to know I… I mean it,” you firmly say, taking in all his facial features, loving how they soften every time he looks at you. “I’ll always love you. No matter how many years go by or if I ever stop being in love with you— I’ll still love you.”

“I’ll always love you too,” he replies, taking your hand and squeezing it softly. “I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You finally let out a soft chuckle and squeeze his hand back. The doorbell rings again and you walk around Kazutora to get to it. This time, he’s the one that stops you, not letting go of the hold of your hand. Looking back at him, you notice the soft pout in his lips and how they softly tremble, looming more tears.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, and you know you’re saying it to yourself as well. “Who knows, we might get together again someday. Have our own Casablanca moment. We’ll always have the pet shop,” you joke, trying to fight back to tears that threaten to fill your eyes as well.

It’s Kazutora’s turn to chuckle, only this time he does it along with you. You let go of his hand only to hold his face tenderly, a soft smile as you look at the man you love. Standing on your tiptoes, you press your lips against the beauty mark under his right eye. You feel his hands setting on the small of your back and watch his smile widen when you fall back on your heels.

Locking your fingers with him once more, you open the door.

[mymelodyheart]

Save The Date Chapter 11 ~What’s Brewing Claire?~

picture credit

 Previously in Stramash ...

Jamie pulled back to look at her face and tipped her chin up to survey the cut on her lips. "He did this?"

She could only nod as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

Jamie turned the gun in his hand and marched towards the door, shouting at the police ushering Jack out to wait. Before Claire could scream for him to stop, he brought his forehead down on Jack's nose in a head butt before handing the weapon to a nearby officer. The sound of cartilage crunching echoed in the tiny room, making Claire wince. Jack fell onto his knees with a loud thud, holding his bleeding nose, shouting improprieties muffled by his hands.

"Now, that was uncalled for, Fraser," an officer clucked, but his grin and the amusement in his eyes implied he wasn't too bothered over Jack's injury. "Now go and get some rest. I'll handle the paperwork and delay the statement for tomorrow morning. You both have done enough to save the day."

  If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

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  Jamie studied Claire. She lay relaxed on the examination table, going through her phone and reading messages. She looked untroubled and seemed to have recovered from the ordeal this past weekend. The only tell-tale sign left of that hellish night was the tiny scab on her lower lip and bruising on her right cheek where Jack Randall had struck her. She was whole and safe, and yet here he was, having trouble letting go of that incident.

When he'd helplessly watched Jack shoved a gun against her neck and dragged her away from his sight, he'd felt the full gravity of her vulnerability and his inadequacy to secure her safety. But how Claire had handled the situation was nothing short of mind-blowing, albeit heart-stopping. She'd kept her presence of mind, aptly keeping Geneva talking while the tech specialist monitored the audio listening device. The moment they'd identified the voice on the phone, the administration in Broadmoor had been immediately alerted to make sure Geneva didn't go anywhere until the police arrived.

Geneva and Jack were in jail now, awaiting trial and most likely would stay there for a very long time. He really needed to stop fixating on what could have gone wrong and focus on the matter at hand, like their baby's condition and Claire's health.

He puffed out a breath and sprung onto his feet. "Ye comfy, Sassenach?"

"I'm good," she replied, without looking up from her phone screen.

"Ye ken, we can cancel the baby reveal for another day."

"I know, but I prepared so much food already."

They were having his family and closest friends over for afternoon tea to share the news of their baby. Claire had insisted on a celebration to invalidate the ordeal Geneva had put them through, determined not to allow recent events to cast a shadow over their upcoming nuptials. Jamie had thought it was too soon, but Claire had pressed that the sooner they moved forward from the incident, the better. 

So last night, she'd spent the entire evening preparing shortcrust pastries, scones batter and making Victorian sponge cake. Apparently, she'd taken some lessons in baking and cooking from Mrs Fitz so that she could host parties like Jenny and his ma. It was as if her work, all the travelling she'd been doing, preparing for the wedding and recovering from trauma wasn't enough. She also needed to put up a brave front.

Though the doctor had given Claire an all-clear in London after a routine checkup, Jamie had insisted on another examination when she'd complain of spotting last night. He hadn't a clue what that had meant, but the concerned look on her face was enough for him to push her for another doctor's appointment. To his relief, she'd hardly put up a fight, and he'd immediately arranged a consultation with a private practice to speed things along since the NHS hospitals were notorious for long waits.

"I just want ye to be certain, Sassenach. That's all. I dinnae want this tea party putting a strain on ye."

Claire put her phone down and glanced up at him. "I'm pregnant, Jamie, not incapacitated. I know you're worried about the spotting, but I'm quite certain pregnant women gets them sometimes. I don't feel ill, but here we are, taking precautions."

Sighing, he moved to her side and took her hand in his. "It's just that I'm bothered about that bruise behind yer back. It looks vicious. I ken bruising looks a lot worse than it is, but I cannae help but wonder if the baby has been harmed when ye banged yer behind on those shelving units after Jack pushed ye. I'm concerned about any delayed complications. Or if the doctor in London overlooked something."

She squeezed his hand. "Your worries are valid, Jamie. The odds of miscarriage or complications might be highest in the first trimester, but I haven't had any issues." She shrugged. "Oh, well, except for the tiny spotting last night. I'm sure everything's fine. Try not to worry."

Easier said than done, Jamie thought. How could Claire sit there looking so calm?  Now that she's pregnant, the world was suddenly full of threats: unpasteurised juice and dairy, soft cheeses that she loved so much, fish high in mercury, saunas and hot tubs, secondhand smoke, changing Adso's litterbox. Not to mention aunt Jocasta's bloody stories of baby-abducting fairies. He really needed to stop reading too much pregnancy information; otherwise, he'd go insane.

Claire gave him a look that said she could tell he was overthinking things.

He promptly kissed her on the lips. "Aye, I guess ye're right," he conceded. "I'm sorry for over-reacting."

The door suddenly opened, and in walked a friendly-looking middle-aged female doctor. "Hello, Claire! Dr Fiona Innes. How are we feeling today?"

"I'm good, just a bit nervous about the spotting," Claire breathed. 

"Understandably." Then the doctor turned to Jamie. "And ye're..."

"James Fraser. The one who got her up the duff," he replied, taking the doctor's outstretched hand and giving it a firm shake. 

"Jamie!" Claire gasped, her face crimsoning profusely.

The doctor laughed. "Hah! I like that! A good sense of humour will get ye through anything." She dragged the ultrasound monitor closer to the exam table and pulled up a stool. "So, let's get started so we can put both yer mind at ease, shall we?" She proceeded to put gloves on and prepare the probe that Jamie had the unfortunate luck of knowing already what it was for. "Now, Claire, I want ye to lie back and place yer feet in the stirrups." 

Claire did as she was told while Jamie helped her ease down. He winced when he heard the sound of latex snapping over the probe. He looked away and took Claire's hand in his.

"Is this your first ultrasound visit, Mr Fraser?"

He glanced over his shoulder, thinking the doctor must have noticed the strain on his face. "Aye and no."

Dr Innes arched an eyebrow.

Jamie pointed at the probe and tried not to grimace. "I've seen a doctor used that thing on her when she was hospitalised a few weeks ago. I hadn't known what was going on then, so I walked away and let them get on with it."

"I see." The doctor refocused her attention back to Claire. "Now relax for me and big deep breaths," Dr Innes advised as she put lubricating gel on the blunt tip of the probe. "This will be a tad bit uncomfortable."

Claire shut her eyes and took a deep breath while Jamie whispered all sorts of nonsense in her ear. When her grip clenched into a tight vice, he pressed his lips on the top of her head.

A few seconds passed, and that's when he heard it. He stilled. It was loud, clear and steady. The unmistakable sound of a heartbeat coming from the monitor. It was their baby's. He let out a sharp exhale, realising he'd discovered something powerful in the tiny, vulnerable life form growing in Claire's womb.

His ma once said that the heartbeat was the first music that a child heard and that every bairn was born knowing the rhythm of their mother's song. To Jamie, this was the sound of their child's soul, the unspoken words already speaking volumes. It was as if it was saying, I'm alive and well, can you hear me?

"Weel, that sounds like a strong and healthy heartbeat there," Dr Innes remarked. "See right there?" Jamie and Claire stirred in their positions to take a better look at where the doctor was pointing. "That's yer baby."

Releasing Claire's hand, Jamie stepped closer to the monitor and tipped his head to the side, adjusting his eyes to discern the grainy image on the monitor. When he finally figured out the shape, mixed emotions began to bombard him in all directions. He felt the complexity of love at seeing a piece of himself and Claire on the screen, inspiring fierce protective instinct to kindle within him. Words like elation, joy and sobering responsibility were too meagre terms and did not give justice in describing how visceral all his emotions were.

"T-that ..." Jamie pointed an index finger at the image, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Is that a ..."

"It's not what ye think, Mr Fraser. That's the foot," Dr Innes responded briskly. She shifted the probe at a different angle to capture another image. "As far as I can see, everything seems to be in perfect working order. I can safely say ye have a healthy, strong baby, so ye can both rest easy."

Jamie continued to stare at the monitor, still trying to wrap the idea of impending fatherhood around his head. "The baby is no' missing any parts, is it?"

"The baby has everything it should have at this stage of the pregnancy," the doctor replied, amused. "Though I think we'll need another few weeks to be able to tell the gender."

"Thank you so much, doctor," Claire said gratefully, pushing herself upright. "We were worried about the spotting and thought it might have had to do with the stress and trauma of what happened last weekend. It was mad, really. I nearly got abducted and had a gun pointed at me."

The doctor threw the probe's latex into the waste and began peeling off her gloves, seemingly unaffected by what Claire had just revealed, making Jamie think physicians were used to hearing such stories. The doctor gave them both an understanding look. "Having a gun pointed at ye is quite jarring, so I understand why ye're both concerned. So how are ye coping mentally?" 

"I try not to dwell on it and carry on as usual," Claire shrugged. "So far, I'm dealing with it fine."

The doctor looked at Claire curiously, her expression full of empathy. "Sometimes ignoring it isn't as cut and dried as you think. Try and get some counselling. Ye're going to deal enough with all the hormones impacting yer physiological, physical and mental well being. This is the time to be enjoying this exciting time in yer life, so counselling is just taking a precautionary step to ensure you are in a good place and prepared for what the next few months will throw at ye."

Jamie locked eyes with Claire, and a silent agreement passed between them. They both understood the impact of a traumatising experience, and he wanted to take the doctor's advice on board. 

"I'll make sure she and the baby are well taken care of," he reassured the doctor, patting Claire's thigh.

"I'm sure ye will," the doctor smiled, pressing buttons on the monitor.

"Let's just hope he won't go over the top," Claire added. "He has a tendency to do that."

The doctor pulled out copies of ultrasound images from the printer and glanced up at Jamie. "I can understand the need to protect, but just bear in mind, us women are more resilient and stronger than we look," she pointed out. "And pregnant women aren't as frail as society perceives them to be."

Jamie laughed. "There's no question about that. After all, my wife-to-be here achieved what twenty-four specialist firearms officers could not."

"Oh?" Dr Innes looked surprised. "And what was that?"

"She single-handedly took down a maximum-security prisoner escapee, helped led the police to his psychopathic accomplice and in the process saved an innocent mistakenly imprisoned," Jamie explained. "I ken it was a foolish move with her being pregnant and all ..."

"It might have been foolish, but I happen to believe Claire's response is inherent in all mothers and mothers-to-be, and it's something almost impossible for the human brain to override." 

"Och, aye?"

"It's called maternal instinct, Mr Fraser, and it's as old as life itself." Dr Innes got up and handed him an envelope containing the ultrasound images. "So woe to anyone who dares a mother-to-be or new mother harm because they're utterly more ferocious than any man wielding a gun when it comes to defending their nest." She looked between him and Claire and smiled. "Anyway, congratulations to you both on your coming parenthood." Then she faced Jamie and patted him on the shoulder. "And as for ye, congratulations on yer newly acquired bodyguard. Ye can sleep well tonight." 

..........

Jamie walked in and placed the last of their shopping bags onto the kitchen counter. "Is there anything else ye need, Sassenach, before I go?"

Claire felt him approach and busied herself, placing apples in a large bowl and then lemons in another. "Umm ...I think I have everything I need." She felt his eyes boring into her back but tried her best not to get distracted. "Shall I make a sandwich to take with you?"

"No, I'm no' hungry."

"Oh, alright ...I guess I shall see you later then."

"I have a few minutes to spare. Want to talk?"

"Talk about what?"

"What ye're feeling. Ye haven't said much all morning ...since we left the clinic. And ye hardly talked to me while we went food shopping."

She took out a knife and honing steel from a drawer and went through the motion of sharpening the blade. "Oh ...I guess I must have been preoccupied with my mental to-do list. That's all."

A long silence ensued, and after what felt like an eternity, he let out an exasperated sigh. "Sassenach, can ye stop what ye're doing for a minute and look at me?"

Hot tears suddenly settled behind her eyes, but she fiercely blinked them back and breathed deeply, swallowing down conflicting emotions and refusing to let them fall. She didn't want to be the type of woman who cried at the littlest and inconsequential thing. She'd never been a crier before, and she wasn't about to become one if she could help it.

"I'm busy, Jamie."

"Please."

Bracing herself, she placed down her utensils and faced him. "What is it?"

"This ..." Jamie waved his hand at the shopping bags on the counter. "I ken what this is. Ye havenae sat still ever since we came back from our trip. Ye've decluttered our bedroom and cleaned out all the kitchen cupboards. And now an afternoon tea party? I ken what ye're doing. Ye're keeping yersel' busy to forget what happened in London instead of talking about it."

"No." She shook her head. "It's not that."

Jamie impatiently rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "Weel, what is up with ye then?"

"Hormones."

"Hormones," Jamie echoed. "Why did you no' just say so?"

She felt her face heat up. "I don't know. Maybe I didn't know it at the time. Or perhaps, because it all seems so silly that I'm getting all worked up for nothing."

Jamie stepped closer and braced her cheeks with both hands, a calloused thumb tenderly swiping her lower lip. "Listen to me very carefully. Whatever ye're feeling or going through, hormonal or not, is never silly. Everything ye have to say is important to me. Trust me on that. I always want to know if something is bothering ye and be able to help ye fix it. Yer body is going through many changes, and it's normal yer emotions are all over the place. So no more self-deprecating thoughts about yer feelings. Am I making myself clear?"

She pursed her lips and nodded, tamping down the urge to cry.

"Very well then, tell me what's going through that mind of yers. At least we can clear the air between us before I go, and my whole family comes and start noticing that something isnae right. Today is supposed to be a celebration of our baby. I dinnae want anything to ruin this day in as much as I think we should delay this for another time."

"Fine." She shut her eyes to search for the right words, but no matter how she formulated them in her head, it didn't sound right. Saying it out loud would only make her appear pathetic. But there was no way around it once Jamie set his mind in extracting something from her. 

"Sassenach?"

Her eyes flew open. "Yes?"

"Yer face is getting redder by the second. I'm beginning to worry."

"Very well, if you must know ..." She blew out a breath. "You haven't touched me since that night in London, that's what," she blurted out. "I feel like you're avoiding me. Every time it was time for us to go to bed, you always had some excuse, like you haven't walked the dog or you need to check the emails." Unable to hold it back any longer, she suddenly burst out crying. "I know it's hormones talking, and I'm acting silly. But I can't help but feel the way I feel because I'm hormonal and horny. That's why I'm keeping myself busy, so I will not overthink things. Because if I did, I'd start believing you don't want me anymore, even if logic says it's not true. Happy now?"

He blinked rapidly as if his brain was short-circuiting. 

"Yeah, just the reaction I knew I was going to get. See what I mean when I said I was acting silly?"

"No," he groaned out loud. "Sweet baby Jesus! Ye cannae say things like horny  when I have to go."

Claire slapped Jamie on the chest. "Jamie! You wanted to know what was wrong! Now that I've said it, you can't blame me for it!"

"Cancel the tea party, and I'll tell Willie I'll be late!"

"No!"

"Why no'?"

"Because!"

With a deep groan, he grabbed her neck from behind and gave her a hard kiss. There was nothing tender or playful about it, just a desperate act of trying to get his fill. He let out a frustrated moan as his tongue swept in her mouth, and a hand cupped her breast, his arousal hard and thick against her belly, letting her know how much he wanted her. When he finally broke the kiss, they were both gasping for air. He pressed their foreheads together, breathing harshly into her face. "How could ye think, even in yer hormonal state, I dinnae want ye any more? Damn it, Sassenach, I've been aching for ye these past few days."

"Then why didn't you touch me?" 

He shook his head as he attempted to even his breath. "That night in London, after I took ye back to the hotel, I wanted to bury myself deep inside ye so I could remind myself that ye're really alive and back in my arms. But when I saw that bruising behind yer back and knowing what ye've just been through in yer pregnant state, I thought if I took ye right there and then, I might cause ye irreparable damage, physically and psychologically. I wanted to make sure ye're properly healed first and that our baby was safe. God, all those nights I was away from our bed, I've been doing push-ups to release all those pent-up frustrations of not being able to make love to ye."

"So you did want me all along ..."

He tapped her nose. "Aye, ye silly goose."

"Oh Jamie," she sighed. "You still don't get it, do you?" She placed a hand against his face and smiled for the first time that morning. 

"Get what?" he asked, looking suddenly confused.

"You should know by now, lovemaking is the best stress reliever. I thought you knew that." 

"Weel ..."

"Remember the times when you were all worked up and conflicted, and how much better you felt after sex?" When he nodded, she pressed on. "Whenever you and I have sex, whether it's fast, hard, long or a quickie, it always came from a place of love. And we've talked about this before ...love heals. The most wonderful thing about our lovemaking, it puts us in that intimate space where we can better connect, heal, open us to those hard conversations, helping us in the process to find closure and release. If sex worked for you to ease your stress, why should it be any different for me? I needed you most after that horrendous night, Jamie. I needed your body to ground me. But I understand now why you didn't touch me that night."

Jamie stared at the ceiling and sighed before looking at her with a mixture of wonderment and torment. He let out a pained laugh. "Weel, right now, I'm under a lot of stress and pressure." He took her hand and placed it on his bulging arousal to make a point. "How about we continue this in the bedroom and let off some steam? I'm stressed, and ye're horny. Ideal combo! Ye can use my body anyway ye want."

Claire clucked her tongue and planted a quick kiss on his lips. "Oh, no, you don't, you sneaky, Scot! You're running late as it is." She placed both hands on his chest and began pushing him out of the kitchen. "How about you let me get on with food preparation, and you finish what you need to do so you can come home as soon as you can in time for the tea party?" she proposed.

"How about my stress levels?" he grumbled.

"Your stress levels are fine!" She turned him around and smacked him on the bum. "Now go. Mrs Fitz will be here any minute to bring the Battenberg cake I ordered."

At the mention of Mrs Fitz, Jamie didn't need any more prodding. He gave her another quick kiss and left the cottage, muttering something about getting a new house before slamming the door behind him.

..........

The rest of the morning and early afternoon passed by quick, and something in Claire lightened even though she was a nervous wreck hosting her first traditional English tea party.

She looked at the kitchen counter laden with several tiered plates displaying the delicacies she'd meticulously prepared. She was ready, and everything looked perfect. 

She'd made four different tea sandwiches to be on the safe side: pear and stilton, cucumber and cream cheese, egg salad, and smoked salmon and dill. And then there were scones, lemon curd tartlets, fruit tarts, and shortbread and Linzer cookies she was looking forward to gorge on. On the other end of the counter were Mrs Fitz's Battenberg cake and Claire's pièce de résistance, Victoria's sponge filled with jam, berries and double cream. Her teabox was neatly packed with Darjeeling, Earl Grey, and Assam, and the pitchers of lavender and elderflower lemonade were cooling nicely in the fridge. 

Perfection!

She was about to wash the sink when she heard a rap on the window. She looked up and saw Jenny waving at her. Letting her in through the kitchen back door, she was surprised to see her carrying a stack of real estate pamphlets and magazines with its pages tabbed with colourful sticky notes.

"Jen! What's all that?"

Jenny shrugged. "Weel, after what happened to ye in London and with everything going on at the moment, I thought I'd make yer life easier." She plonked down her load on a nearby stool and picked up a magazine, leafing through the pages. "I heard from Willie ye and Jamie are looking for a bigger place. So I decided to grab all these. It has listings of every available property for sale in the surrounding area. Ma and I saved the pages we thought ye and Jamie might like."

"Oh, Jen!" Claire gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

Jenny waved a hand. "Think nothing of it!"

Feeling emotional, Claire gave Jenny a big hug. "That's very thoughtful of you. Thank you so much." When she finally broke away from their embrace, she noticed deep furrows on Jenny's forehead. "Jen? What's wrong?"

Jenny's usually brilliant blue eyes suddenly looked serious as they landed on the bruising on her cheek. "Does that still hurt?" 

Claire touched her cheek. "Oh, this? No, not at all. It looks worse than it is. Poor Jamie getting all these weird looks when we're out and about. He was even accused by some granny of being an abuser. I can understand why but I had to step in and explain to the old dear."

Jenny wrung her hands and gave her a small smile. "Actually, I -I came early because I wanted to talk with ye. Just us two."

"Oh, do you want a drink first?" Claire offered, jerking a thumb in the direction of the fridge. "I have some lemonade ..."

"No! Please! I need to get this out before anything else."

Claire nodded. "Alright then, I'm all ears."

"I-I want to apologise for ..." Jenny's chin crumpled, seemingly attempting to blink back her tears. " ...for what happened to ye in London."

"Wot? Oh, Jen! Why are you apologising? That wasn't your fault."

Jenny raised a hand, which told Claire to let her talk. "It was in some ways my fault, Claire. Geneva was my friend, and I tried to push Jamie and her together. I shouldn't have told her last year there was a vacancy in the village, and then she wouldn't have come back and pursued her interest in my brother. I honestly had no idea she was capable of such horrid deeds. If I'd known, I wouldn't have taken her into my circle of friends and family."

Claire shook her head. "No one could have known, and no one knew. Even her work colleagues and peers were shocked when they found out what she's done. She's a master manipulator, Jen, and she probably manipulated you too under the guise of friendship."

"Still ..." Jenny insisted. "If it wasn't for my meddling ..."

"Stop right there!" Claire wagged a finger at Jenny. "We've locked horns on the subject before and moved on from that already. Alright? Past is past. We all make mistakes. The most important thing is we learn from it. So no more mention of Geneva."

This time Jenny's smile reached her eyes. "Fine! Just dinnae tell Jamie we talked about this."

"Whyever not?"

"Jamie has given everyone in the family strict orders, not to mention about London today."

"Really?"

Jenny nodded. "He didn't want to ruin today's celebration rehashing what happened. Unfortunately, I had to in order for me to apologise, but enough of that now." She clapped her hands. "So, how about that drink. I'm parched." She whirled around and stopped, her eyes widening when she saw the spread Claire had prepared. Walking over to the kitchen counter, she took in everything with a smile. "Goodness, did ye make all these?"

Claire smiled with pride. "I did. Except for the Battenberg cake. Mrs Fitz made it."

"Ye said, ye didnae know how to bake," Jenny said almost begrudgingly. 

"Now I do, thanks to the wifey Bootcamp I attended, also known as Mrs Fitz's kitchen."

"These all look scrumptious. It's been ages since I had a proper English afternoon tea." Jenny glanced up at her and grinned. "So, what are we celebrating?"

Claire nearly blurted out the baby news, but she quickly caught herself. Sliding an arm around her soon-to-be sister-in-law, she walked Jenny to the end of the counter to show her the sponge cake. "Today, we're celebrating love, friends and family."

Jenny poked a finger into the clotted cream and licked. "I like the sound of that. That'll always be a perfect excuse for a celebration or a proper afternoon tea party."

Claire smiled. "I couldn't agree more, Jen. I couldn't agree more."

..........

Jamie came home from work and noticed all the sandwiches, tarts and cakes laid out on the kitchen counter. He was mildly astonished that Claire had been able to prepare so much in the nick of time. He glanced out the window and spied her and Jenny in the garden, busily arranging tablecloths on the long wooden table. Looking at his watch, he realised he had about fifteen minutes to get ready before their friends and family started arriving. 

But first things first.

Stepping out into the backyard, he snuck behind Claire and wrapped his arms around her waist, planting a soft kiss on her neck. "Mmm, ye smell of berries, lemon and lavender," he whispered, running his lips on her bare skin and ignoring Jenny's mumbling about getting a room.

Claire turned in his hold and smiled up at him. "And you reek, mister. You won't be served tea smelling like that."

"Fancy a shower with me then?" he suggested, feeling mischievous. "Jen's here to look out for guests."

"Nice try, but I had a shower already, and Jen is our guest today." 

He leaned down and nibbled her earlobe, making her squeal.

"Jamie, you're going to get my dress dirty. Oh, fiddlesticks ..." She suddenly stilled mid-laughter and made a face, her hand covering her nose. "Urgh ...what's that smell?"

Jamie let her go and took a whiff of his shirt. "Oh, it's just a bit of wood stain I was working with. It'll come off in a wash."

Her face suddenly turned pale. "Oh, God, I think I'm going to be sick. Tell Jen I'll be right back ...and you ...you go have a shower before your parents arrive." With that, she spun around and ran back to the cottage.

Stunned, he watched her disappearing form and whistled under his breath. "What just happened?" he muttered, even though he knew the answer had to do with the dreaded pregnancy sickness. She'd been doing so well so far he almost thought morning sickness was nothing but a myth, even though Claire had revealed, she couldn't stand the smell of aniseed, star anise, fennel, and liquorice.

"Maybe, she's pregnant and suffering from sickness?" Jenny replied, walking past him with an armful of wildflowers to put into the empty vases dotted on the wooden table.

He hadn't realised Jenny had returned from wherever she'd disappeared to. He needed to be careful not to reveal their baby news too soon, or the surprise would be ruined. Jenny was simply someone who couldn't keep a secret. 

"Ach, I should have known chemical smells always make her nauseous," he explained, not wanting to give too much away to his perceptive sister.

Jenny twitched her lips from side to side as she trimmed the bouquet's stems with pruning shears. "Aye, that will be right!" she smirked.

He glared at his sister. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged and gave him a knowing look. "Nothing! Now go have a shower, and I'll take care of things here until Claire feels better."

Jamie was about to say more when he heard the sound of a car parking in the driveway. As Jenny made a move to take a look, he quickly made a beeline back to the cottage before anyone saw him, hoping Claire had already recovered from her bout of sickness.

..........

Jamie leaned back on his chair and glanced around. It was a perfect summer late afternoon, and everyone seemed to be having a great time and enjoying the food Claire had prepared. The sun warmed his face and bathed the garden in dazzling light, making the different shades of green and the profusion of wildflowers more vibrant and alive. The chatter was lively, and funnily enough, no one complained about the lack of alcohol which was highly unusual for a gathering in Scotland. But, he suspected his godfather must have a flask of whisky or something similar tucked away somewhere as he was getting louder and more boisterous as time went by.

He took Claire's hand in his, and she turned his way and smiled. Her face looked pale, but there was an aura of tranquillity radiating from her that told him she was happy and content. Though her plate was full of food, it remained untouched, and if anyone had noticed, no one said anything. "How are ye feeling, Sassenach?"

She took a huge deep breath, held it in for a few seconds and then relaxed. "I'm fine," she sighed. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?"

He knew she was valiantly fighting back the sickness that must be creating havoc in her body but was too stubborn to give in to it. "Shall we tell them about the surprise so you can finally have a rest?" he suggested in a low voice, so no one would hear. "It cannae be comfortable sitting here when ye feel so unwell."

She shook her head as she gulped in more air. "I want to wait for uncle Lamb. He'll be here soon."

Quentin's plane from Athens should have arrived four hours ago but was delayed because of some mechanical issues. Jamie hoped for Claire's sake Quentin was on his way and wasn't dilly-dallying somewhere, like planning a grand entrance. Jamie kissed her cheek, hoping to sweet talk her to giving up this charade of wellness. "I'm pretty sure ye're uncle will understand once he finds out about yer condition."

"I know," Claire murmured. "But I want today to be perfect and complete. I want to see uncle Lamb's face when we announce it."

"But it's already perfect."

"Not without uncle Lamb."

Jamie prayed for patience and tamped down the urge to haul this beautiful but infuriating woman in his arms and carry her to bed. He squeezed her hand and yielded to her request, knowing this get-together was important to her. "Whatever ye say, Sassenach. Just let me know if ye need anything."

"I will," she replied between sharp intakes of breath.

Jamie decided not to press anymore. He knew this was one battle he couldn't win without creating a scene in front of their friends and family. But if Claire thought she was pulling this act off, Jamie was convinced, his perceptive family had already caught on with what was passing. Claire was a terrible actress, and she couldn't even lie to save her life.

Fortunately, their intimate tea party was animated and loud, and it diverted the attention from Claire. Directly opposite them, Tom and Willie were discussing the merits of owning a mini campervan for spontaneous weekend trips around the Highlands. On one end of the table, Murtagh passionately ranted and raved to Brian and uncle Duncan about the Tories and how SNP was the solution to Scotland's political future. Next to Claire, Annalise showed Ellen and aunt Jocasta how to work the Instagram app while Jenny, Mary and Geillis cackled over some celebrity gossip they've probably read somewhere. Grannie Annie had meanwhile fallen asleep in her seat with Adso in her lap and Rollo at her feet. At the far end of the garden, Finlay, Geillis' boyfriend and Ian were having a go at playing badminton but kept hitting the shuttlecock over the hedge to both their frustration. 

Though Jamie was happy the tea party had gone as planned, he couldn't relax, too worried about Claire predicament. If it got to the stage where Claire lost any more colour to her face, he was sure no one would be able to blame him for whatever course of action he would take next.

"Right, does anyone want some fresh cuppa?" Claire suddenly announced, getting up from her seat.

Annalise immediately jumped to her feet. "I can do that."

Willie got up too. "I'll put the kettle on."

"I'll clear up the empty dishes," Geillis offered, already grabbing an empty tiered plate stand. "We dinnae want this stunning antique piece being knocked over, now do we?"

Ellen reached over to Claire from her seat and patted her hand. "Everything was lovely, dear. I couldnae decide which was my favourite. And that lavender lemonade was refreshing."

"Aye," Murtagh piped in as he got up and sat directly opposite Claire. "I bet it will taste even better with gin or vodka."

Brian frowned at Murtagh. "The lavender lemonade tastes good as it is. There's nae need to spoil it with alcohol. Besides, it's good for ye to give yer poor liver a wee break. If ye're no' careful, yer gene pool will soon have a swim-up bar."

"I dinnae drink that much," Murtagh grumbled. 

"Aye ye do," Aunt Jocasta pointed out. "Dinnae think for one minute I didnae notice ye've been spiking yer tea."

Before Murtagh could retort, Geillis came back in time with a steaming mug and placed it in front of Claire.

"Ooh, what's this?" Claire asked, looking into her drink.

"It's ginger and turmeric tea," Geillis declared. "It's good for ye. I brought it with me from Glasgow. It's organic, and thought ye might like it."

Jamie couldn't help but smile to himself. He knew ginger tea or any form of ginger were effective in reducing nausea. Claire probably knew too because her eyes lit up and gave Geillis an appreciative nod. If he wasn't a hundred per cent certain earlier, everyone knew about Claire's condition, now he's more convinced than ever they were playing along. Jamie appreciated the gesture, but this had gone on too far. Where the bloody hell is Quentin?

"I'm back!" boomed a voice, waking grannie Annie up. It was as if Jamie's thoughts had conjured Claire's uncle from thin air, and there he was making a grand entrance as Jamie had expected. "I hope there are some leftovers. I'm famished."

Claire laughed, twisting around on her seat to watch her uncle approaching. Ellen got up and started plating some food for Quentin.

"There's plenty of leftovers," Annalise assured as she placed another platter of sandwiches on the table. "Claire made enough for the entire village."

Quentin gave Claire a quick kiss on the forehead before greeting the rest of the party, who'd gathered back around the table. "Sorry for the delay," he apologised, finally taking a seat next to Claire. "Our plane was stuck on the tarmac without any air conditioning. We had no choice but to sit there and stew in the heat while the engineers fixed the plane."

"Well, I'm glad you're here now," Claire said, looking adoringly at her uncle. 

Quentin stared at the bruising on her cheek. "I don't like the look of that. It looks ..."

Sounds of several throats clearing ensued, a signal to Quentin not to pursue the London topic any further.

"Very well," Quentin nodded in understanding. "I'm glad too that I'm here."

Claire smiled. "Alrighty, so now that everyone's here, Jamie and I have an announcement to ..."

"Hold that thought, sweetheart," Quentin interrupted as he bent down to retrieve the holdall he'd placed at his feet. "I brought a souvenir."

Jamie bit his tongue at the interruption.  

"I hope it's not another ceramic plate," Claire groaned, unaware of Jamie's frustration.

"No. I got something better." Quentin waggled his bushy eyebrows as he unzipped his bag and proceeded to rummage through its contents. "Wait for it! Wait for it!" Suddenly he yanked out a bottle and held it up for everyone to see. "I got Ouzo!" he announced with satisfaction.

"Yesss, ya beauty!" Murtagh cheered happily, banging a hand on the table. "I love Ouzo."

Aunt Jocasta scowled at Murtagh. "Ye like anything alcoholic. Ye'll drink Listerine if it was placed in front of ye."

"What's Ouzo?" Claire asked as she stared curiously at the offering. "I mean, I've heard of it before, but I've forgotten what it is."

Jamie was about to fill in the information and tell her she wouldn't be able to stand the smell of it when Quentin expertly uncapped the bottle and held it under Claire's nose. Oblivious to Jamie's hitch of breath, Claire pressed her nose closer to the opening of the bottle to take a better whiff. Ah, shite!

"It's an anise flavoured liquor," Quentin described. "Mostly served as an aperitif in Greece.."

Jamie watched in awe as Claire's head jerked back and her face contorted when her senses registered the smell, and a low, gurgling sound came from deep down in her belly. He winced, half expecting any moment now a horrific scene of projectile vomiting, and the recipient would be none other than his godfather sat opposite her. But Claire jumped to her feet, startling everyone, and her hand immediately clapped over her mouth, golden eyes bright and tearing up. Quick thinking Jenny, grabbed a sprig of mint she'd put in the vase, macerated it in her hands and offered it to Claire. Everyone gasped and watched in fascination as Claire took the green leaves and stuffed her mouth with them, and began to chew, jaws working overtime, reminding Jamie of a cow feeding in the fields. Nobody said a word, waiting for the next scene to unfold or for someone to offer an explanation.

Swallowing audibly, Claire finally untensed and slumped back down to a loud hearty burp. And as if nothing had happened, she calmly drank a good measure of her ginger tea, put the mug down and then smiled. "Sorry about that. So where were we again?"

Eyes bulging almost out of his head, Quentin sputtered before he managed to string a coherent sentence together. "W-What the bloody hell was that? Was that some kind of weird side effects from what happened in London that I have no idea of?"

Claire looked at Jamie, looking suddenly exhausted. "Can you please tell them?"

"Tell me what?" Quentin bristled.

Jamie dropped his head on his folded arms resting on the table and allowed it to bounce once. Twice. Thrice. God must have taken pity of him because when he glanced up, everyone shouted in chorus. "Claire and Jamie are having a baby!"

   Dear Readers,

Thank you all for the response and feedback I received for my previous chapter. I know it got a bit crazy; therefore, today's update is more subdued to allow everyone's breathing to go back to normal.  Nevertheless, I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much I've enjoyed writing it for you.

Anyway, I hope you're all keeping safe and taking care of yourself and mostly taking the time to enjoy the last days of summer. Keep up the good vibes and be well. X

[obey-only-me]

Kitten Lessons (Lucifer x F!Mc x Satan) By: Akuzondelivery

No one was going near the library. The volume of their conversation alone let everyone know that this was going to be a long argument. Satan and Lucifer were fighting. Again.

“What are they fighting about?” You had to yell over the rumble of curse words and energy as you stood in front of the door.

“I don’t remember but it’s never anything important!” Mammon yelled with his fingers in his ears.

The other brothers may be used to this but there was no way you could live like this.

When they still hadn’t left the library after dinner had been cleaned up, you stood in front of the door again. It felt dark...very dark. And the noises were so loud it was impossible to tell what language was being spoken. But you built up your courage! These brothers need a mediator!

Making a fist you banged on the large walnut doors as hard as you could. The sound was muffled by the loud screeches yet everything came to a halt at your soft by comparison knocks. Taking a deep breath you opened the door to the library and bravely stepped in.

“Uh-um, hey you two.” Your voice was quiet as you entered the room, closing the door behind you.

Scanning the room you spotted Lucifer sitting behind a desk reading and Satan at a table in front of a couch...also reading. The two were acting nonchalantly as possible but you could see the anger vibrating off of them. What could have possibly sparked such tense energy?

You weren’t sure what to say so you sat on a couch between the two, sharing the table with Satan. On it were several books on cats, familiars, and how to raise kittens.

Oh geez...Satan wants a cat. Again. And Lucifer definitely already said no. Again.

You couldn’t help but pick up one of the books that was left open to a page of kittens. Satan watched you carefully as you thumbed through the pages.

“MC what are you doing,” Satan asked with a slightly annoyed sigh.

“Well I’m in the library...just thought I’d do some reading. In the LIBRARY!” You made sure it echoed, hoping they’d take the hint you were annoyed by their fighting.

Another silence fell over the room. You peaked over Satan’s shoulder to see Lucifer fidgeting in his seat. He met your gaze but turned away a little embarrassed. If you’re annoyed then it certainly must have been some display. Even Satan had a regretful look. But you ignored them, hoping the pretend cold shoulder would be enough to break them.

Staying in character you flipped a page roughly to see how they would react. Satan sighed again but kept himself from caving. The rough treatment of the pages was really getting to him. Those were some of his favorite cat books. After the third or fourth flip he broke.

“You can’t do that MC, the pages will rip.” Satan sighed as he took the book from you. But you smiled now that he was sitting next to you. Holding the book and flipping the pages gently for you. His eyes lit up as he spoke about the cats and feline habits. This boy just wants a pet.

“Awwwwe they’re so cute Satan.” You giggled as you listen to him read. “Cats are such good pets.”

“Would you like a pet?” Satan asked with a smirk, feeling much more relaxed now.

“Nah...we have Mammon.” You joked.

“You know...you could be my pet instead. I wouldn’t mind taking care of you.” Satan flirted. This definitely made the eldest stir, Satan of course noticed. Maybe to make Lucifer mad again, Satan put an arm around you and brought you close on the couch.

“Geez.” You grumbled as you blushed, heat rising to your cheeks.

“I even have a collar, here. I brought this earlier.” Satan pulled out a thin black nylon collar with a small plastic clasp. There was a silver bell the size of your pinky attached. His large hands loosened the collar all the way and firmly snapped it around your neck.

“Hey!” You protested as your fingers traced the uncomfortable fabric.

“Too cute.” Satan’s face was slightly red as he admired you, laughing a little at your distress.

“Unbelievable. MC don’t feed into his strange hang ups.” Lucifer grumbled as he sat on the couch across from both of you.

“Good timing. MC has offered to be my pet. So I’ll just be taking her and going to my room-“

“Not so fast. Sit down Satan.” Lucifer spoke firmly, however Satan didn’t address him with any more concern than before. Though he did sit back down.

“I had an idea. If you can show me you can be a good pet owner, I’ll consider your request more seriously.” Lucifer had gotten his attention now.

“How so?”

“Well...since MC offered to be your pet...”

Without much protest, the two dressed you as the pet they would play with. A set of cat ears firmly set in place, the collar Satan had gifted you earlier, and a small but comfortable plug decorate with a long cat tail. You sat on your knees obediently and in defeat.

“I’m enjoying this test so far.” Satan cooed.

“I have to say I am too.” Lucifer chuckled.

You pouted, knowing they were enjoying this way too much.

“Awww, I know what will make kitten happy.” Satan placed you on his lap and gently played with your hair, making sure it stayed off your neck. “Feel free to purr a little if you like MC.”

You only squirmed, embarrassed by the attention and the game they were both playing.

“I think our little kitten wants some attention...” Satan teased as he kissed at your neck. Part of your task was to keep from verbally communicating, letting your owners learn their new kitten’s wants and needs by learning your language. This was going to be impossible: sighs already slipping through your lips as Satan’s tongue traced every sensitive spot across your neck and toward your ear. “I’m happy to give it, you can watch if you want...” Satan smirked over at Lucifer who had been sitting and watching everything so far.

“Hmph. When a learning moment arises, Ill be ready to join you.” The eldest held a devious smirk as he watched you squirm in Satan’s grasp.

Two slender fingers slipped between your lips and gently rolled against your tongue. His kisses and love bites were traveling lower now, the trail of kisses making your skin hot. The muffled noises coming from you were loud and clear though, you were enjoying the attention. As his two fingers twirled your tongue, the other caressed the underside of your breasts. Skilled fingers easily found your sensitive peaks under your clothing and twisted them just the right way. Your moans were breathy and sultry.

Lucifer sat with his legs crossed on the couch in front of the one you were on. His smug expression stayed as his eyes took in the sight of you being ravished. Your face was hot as you noticed him watching you indulge in Satan’s touch.

Satan’s cock was grinding against your lower back as he fondled your breast, using his saliva covered fingers to give more attention to your nipples. You hissed at the cool, wet feeling. Your squirming had your hips grinding and moving against his hardening cock making him catch his breath. Satan caught your lips in his to quiet the moans he wants to hear only for himself. He doesn’t want to share them with Lucifer. His hands adjust again leaving one hand on your breast as the other traveled between your legs to feel how excited you were growing.

Lucifer was slowly removing his gloves as he watched Satan’s fingers slip beneath the thin strip of clothing covering your arousal. Satan dipped his fingers inside you, cooing as he felt how wet you were. You gave a low moan as he covered his fingers in your slick.

Meanwhile, Lucifer had made his way over, sitting next you both on the couch and moving your hips towards him. Both you and Satan looked at him quizzically, a smirk growing as he caught your attention.

“I found my first teachable moment, keep going.” Lucifer spoke as he easily removed your soaking underwear. You continued to moan and squirm as Satan once against spread your walls. You saw Lucifer watching you, eyes glued to yours as his fingers began to gently roll and tease your clit. Your heavy breathing and rolling hips made Satan even harder, you could feel his cock pressed against your lower back.

“Hmmm, so kitten likes that too?” Satan hummed in your ear. “Why don’t you meow for us if you’re enjoying our fingers?”

Your face felt hot, Satan was so horrible.

“It would help us understand our pet more, why don’t you meow when you feel good MC?” Lucifer echoed Satan’s proposed rule. Lucifer was horrible too.

But you complied; you were getting needier and needier from their teasing.

“M-mew?...meow?” You tested the waters.

You received an eager reward; both of them moved faster, harder. Lucifer gently teased at the tail like plug they so delicately picked out for you. Satan’s fingers were roughly playing at your nipples, sending waves of pleasure through you. You let little meows and moans slip as you got closer and closer the the edge of orgasm.

“Are we spoiling our pet?” Lucifer asked Satan as you grew louder.

“It’s so hard not to. She’s just so cute.” He chuckled lowly.

“C-cumming...” you moaned as your head languidly rested against Satan’s chest.

“Hm? What’s that kitten?” Satan hummed back, moving his fingers faster and curving into just the right spot. Lucifer made sure your clit was being treated just as pleasurably. They both sent you into bliss, moaning and spasming throughout your high. Your heavy panting slowed as you relaxed on the couch.

Both demons chuckled lowly, you could hear them both remove more of their clothing; jackets and sweaters and ties were set to the side. You were malleable after such a strong orgasm, so it was easy for them to put you on your knees on the floor between both of them.

“Feeding time MC? Are you...hungry?” Satan teased by running a finger against your jaw and pulling your gaze to him. He had already freed his erect member from his pants, pulling your chin closer and closer. As he held your attention, Lucifer placed one of your hands over his own cock, also freed from his slacks.

“You must be. Good thing we have extra for you. Hm hm. Now I’m spoiling her too.”

Your lips wrapped around Satan’s tip, giving teasing licks at his slit as you held the base of his cock; while your fingers on the other hand did the same to Lucifer’s. You could hear them both sigh and lowly moan as you gave them both attention.

They were both suddenly impatient and began moving their own hips. Satan held a hand on the back of your head as he pushed himself into the back of your throat. Lucifer also bucked into your grip around his thick length. Soon the hand on the back of your head was Lucifer’s; and it was now his cock going down your throat.

Your muffled mews and moans made both demons quicken their pace, passing your mouth between them to abuse your tongue and throat. All the while the faint sound of the bell on your collar rang out. You could hear Satan quietly mumble under his breath as he got closer; “So good. So good.” Lucifer was more conservative, not wanting to unravel too much, but his low throaty moans made it clear he was growing closer to cumming too.

As if they had the same idea, both stood from the couch, pulling your hair slightly to tilt your face back.

“Open up MC, this is for you.” Lucifer huffed.

“Stick out your tongue.” Satan commanded.

The good pet you are, you followed suit and opened wide as they both attempted to cum in your mouth. They covered your tongue, some dripping down your chin. With a heavy sigh Satan sat back to admire your condition. Cum and arousal painted your face.

“You look so amazing right now Kitten...” he mused as he watched you swallow everything.

“I don’t think we’re done yet.” Lucifer hissed as he reached beneath you to slip his fingers against your folds. Covering his fingers in your dripping slick before inserting two digits. “You’re still so wet MC. You still need to be taken care of little kitten.”

Lucifer swept you off the floor and into his lap, you could feel he was still hard as he let his cock grind against your heat. Satan watched you carefully as he positioned you over his thick cock and entered you slowly. Your whole body shifted to make room for Lucifer’s thick cock. Once seated fully in his lap, his shaft stretching and filling you, he had a devious idea. Keeping his hips still, he grabbed the back of your hand to wipe your still dirty chin, smearing cum over the back of your hand and fingers.

“Why don’t you lick your paw clean for Satan while I treat you a little more?” He smirked as his hips bucked gently.You began bouncing in his lap as you put on  a show.

Satan was mesmerized. You were bouncing on a cock all while moaning and mewling, desperately trying to lick your hand free of cum. With the ears. And the tail. And your little meow he could never forget. Satan was finally overcome with lust, quickly becoming hard again and stroking his cock at the sight of you.

“Fuck...” he cursed under his breath.

You watched him as he moved to stand behind you. You felt his palm against your back push you toward Lucifer, causing your hips to rise and chest to press into Lucifer’s face. The tail plug you had grown accustomed to was slowly pulled from you, a moan slipping from you as Satan replaced it with his hard cock.

It was so intense being filled by both impressive members, both reaching deep and making you grip the back of the couch tightly. Hearing you moan so loudly made Satan quickly ease his thrusts into you while Lucifer picked up his own pace. Lucifer’s soft lips wrapped around your nipple, gently tugging and biting. Your breasts bouncing against his face drove him crazy.

Satan buried his cock deeper and deeper into you as your walls began sucking him in. Leaning into you more he kissed up your back, to your shoulder, and to the crevice of your neck.

“Keep meowing kitten. Tell us how much you love being our pet.” His whisper was laced with lust and desperation.

At this point you could only focus on the stars clouding your vision, the mewls and whines slipped on their own. Those little meows drive him insane however.

“That’s right. Good MC. You’re taking this cock so well.” Lucifer hissed against your skin as his release grew closer.

“Good kitten. Just a little more.” Satan followed.

You felt like you were going to pass out, the rush building in your core was about to burst. They could feel your body quivering around them. It wasn’t much longer and your whole body turned heated as you came with them both thrusting inside you. Your moan was loud and so, so enticing. The grip around Lucifer’s cock wasn’t letting him go as he spilled inside you, filling you with his seed.Satan followed soon after, stilling inside you to empty himself. A gaspy, restrained moan hissing pass his lips.

No one moved a moment as you each caught your breath, relaxing and separating from each other’s bodies. You remained in Lucifer’s lap as you rested your head against his chest; breathless and lost in post coital bliss. Satan sat beside the eldest and gently pushed a few strands of hair out of your face. Lucifer’s strong arms held you close and he gently stroked your back soothingly.

“You know...I guess we do have a pretty good pet already.” Satan chuckled at your pout.

“She is pretty great. Though I think we could use more...training sessions like these.” Lucifer smirked as he lifted your chin. “How about it MC? Think you’d like to take more ‘lessons’ from Satan and I...?”

[dragon-kazansky]

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 2

Race day. The whole track was buzzing with excitement. Over the last two weeks, Zemo had been working hard and improving his car. Between all that, he was thinking about you.

It was strange how someone you met once, and hardly knew, made such an impact on your life. He wondered if you got the ticket. Would you even come?

He stood by his car. People had come to see him, but his eyes were only looking for one person. You had yet to make an appearance. Disappointment hung heavy in his chest.

Tony Stark stood across the way from him. He was chatting to his fans, smiling smugly and relishing in all the attention he was receiving.

If Zemo knew one thing, he wasn't going to let Stark win today. He glares at him as he takes a seat. He sighs. He had hoped you would have come. The thought of you helps cool his thoughts of the other driver.

It won't be long until they are called to the starting lane.

Zemo gets up and grabs his helmet, thinking to make a few last minute checks before they're needed. He would deal with the fact you were a once in a lifetime meeting and get on with the day. The disappointed had settled hard.

He turns his back and was about to make his way to his crew when a voice stopped him.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

He turns around quickly, relieved at the sound of your voice. He grins when his eyes land on you.

"You did, but you're here now. Though, I think you owe me for keeping me waiting."

You smile. "I'm sorry. Getting here was a hassle. I was worried I was going miss the race entirely."

He couldn't stop smiling.

"I'm glad you made it."

The cheering behind you caught your attention. You turned to see Stark climbing into his car. The crowd around him was being asked to disperse.

"I won't let him win today."

You turn to see Zemo looking at you, completely ignoring what's happening behind you.

"He really riles you up, doesn't he?"

"How could you tell?" He asked, not meaning for a reply, but surprised by your response a the same.

"You're clenching your fists and jaw. Is he, like, your enemy?"

Zemo gives a heartless chuckle.

"Something like that."

You stepped closer to him and smiled softly. This closely, he could smell the fragrance you had put on today. You leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"A good luck charm. I'll be cheering for you."

You're not sure where your bravery had come from, but you wanted to do something to get his mind off Stark. He looked a little surprised, but he looked more smug than that.

"My own little good luck charm? Perhaps things will be different today."

You smile as you step back. The drivers are being called to the start line. Zemo doesn't quite want to leave you yet, but duty calls.

"That's your stand," he says, pointing to the seating area above him. "I'll be back here when the race ends, meet me."

"Alright."

Zemo has someone help you up to your seat in the stands. He gets into his car as you go, looking up once before driving his car over to the start.

You don't take your eyes off his car.

That tense atmosphere seems to fall over the whole racetrack. It was just like last time. Only there was something more here for you. You were here for Zemo this time, at his request.

The silence was thick. All you could hear was your breathing, and then that beautiful sound. Those engines revving. It was as if at that moment you forgot how to breathe.

They were off.

You were already clutching your seat.

You had a little bit of research on Helmut Zemo. He had won a couple of races before, but had never beaten Tony Stark. There was a rivalry there. This had been going on a few months. Zemo was insistent on beating him at least once.

Maybe, just maybe, today will be that day.

Your eyes flick to the screen where the cars will be picked up now they're out of sight. You can feel your stomach dropping as you watch eagerly. Zemo and Stark are once again locked in battle with each other. They are ready so far ahead of the others and you wonder how they do that so fast. You bite your lip as you watch the purple car.

This would mean so much to Zemo if he beat Stark. It would put Tony down a few notches, maybe then he wouldn't be so high and mighty.

You have no idea what happened. It was as if you suddenly zoned back in to the race. Attention brought back to the screen at the sound of screeching tyres.

You tense up.

Luckily no damage had been done, but both Stark and Zemo had spiralled out of control, both cars now facing the wrong way. You could see them on the screen.

The others will catch up soon. They don't have much time to keep their places if they're going to get back into the race.

Stark's car sparks to life. You feel your heart drop as he takes off again.

Zemo cannot get his car to start again.

Banging his hand against the steering wheel he glares after Stark. Another race he will not win. No doubt Tony will have something to say later.

You can only watch as Helmut climbs put of his car and walks off the tracks. All the other cars speed past him. His car won't be crossing the finishing line today.

You don't care about the rest of the race, you leave tour seat and hurry down to the barricade. You would wait for Zemo like you said you would.

He doesn't return to the stop until the race is over, Stark's name being hollered from every direction. He comes over with a hard look on his face, jaw clenched in anger. His helmet was in his hand, hair slightly messy from it's removal.

He stalks over to where you are waiting. He doesn't even look at you as he drops the helmet and sits down, head in his hands.

"Zemo?"

He doesn't say anything. He just sits there and sighs. Your lucky kiss didn't bring him much luck.

There was no way you could be impressed with his skills after that. He had wanted to impress you today. He had wanted to cross that finish line for you. He failed.

He swears it's Stark's fault they collided like that. Now his team had to go fetch the abandoned car and fix it.

One day. One day he would beat that man.

"Zemo?"

He lowers his hands and turns his head to the side, looking at you with gentle eyes. He has a little smile on his face, but you could tell he was utterly defeated.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" You ask, confused by the sudden apology.

"For wasting my lucky charm."

You chuckle softly and sit down on the tarmac by his chair.

"It's not a big deal. I'm just glad you're alright. I know how dangerous this can be."

He nods. People can die in this job.

"You have been doing some research?"

"Yes. I wanted to understand your world better." You look down sheepishly. It felt strange confessing that to him.

"My world is fast," he says, voice dropping in volume.

You both ignore the cheering happening in the distance. Tony was receiving his reward as his team parks his car opposite you.

"I like the fast lane, I found out. I'd like to stay in it a little longer."

Zemo's gaze landed on you.

"Would you like to join me for a drink?" He asks, wanting to take his mind off the race.

"I would love to," you smile up at him.

"Wait for me by the gate, I'll pick you up once I've changed."

You nod and stand up. You make your way to the exit of the racetrack, waiting by the gate. Zemo goes to get out of his racing gear.

As you wait, Stark makes his exit. He spots you, grinning.

"Waiting for someone?"

"Yes," you reply curtly.

"You're wasting your time on him. You know that? Not only is he a danger on the track, but off it too." Tony peered at you over his shades, "consider that a warning."

"I think I can judge him for myself, but thank you."

Tony shrugs and drives off.

The nerve of that man! Granted, he didn't sound he meant ill feelings as he said it, but that fact he even felt the need to say that angered you. Sure, you hadn't known Zemo all that well, and everything you did know you got off the internet, but you felt more than capable to make a judgement yourself.

Tony was out of sight now.

You turned when you heard another car approach. It was a different one from the one he had two weeks ago. You smile as he pulls up in front of you. You climb in.

Zemo drives you both away from the track.

"What happened to the race car?"

"My crew will take it back and look at the damage. I'll check in with them tomorrow. I have some changes to make to it."

"What happens now? I mean, since you didn't cross the line," you ask, wanting to know more.

"I'll be set back a bit, but I'll overcome it. One day I will beat Stark. His winning streak will have to end at some point, and I would very much like to do it before the racing season ends."

"How long do you have?"

"There are three more races before the season ends."

"I believe in you."

For some reason those words set off something inside of him. He glances at you briefly as a smile spreads across his face. Perhaps it was fate that brought you to him. He would like to think that.

Zemo knee exactly where to take you. A good quiet place for drinks.

The bar was nice. Nothing flashy or loud, just a casual place for drinks. Zemo and yourself sat in the back, out of immediate eyesight of everyone else. He wanted to spend this time with you, and only you.

"What else did you learn in your research?" He asks, wanting to kick off the conversation.

"You've only been racing a handful of years, only being racing professional a few months, and yet you're super talented on the track. I had to look up some of the racers, most of which have been racing professionally for years. Yet, you're up there with them," you say, sounding impressed.

"I'm good at what I do, no doubt about that."

"How did you get into racing?"

"I love cars. Back home, I have a collection of classic models. You have only seen two of the cars I own. One day I decided to give racing a go. The thrill that runs through your veins when you're speeding around that track, it is unlike anything I've ever felt before. Adrenaline takes over once your foot is on the pedal. All you see is the track ahead."

You smile as you listen.

"I could get used to going to races."

Zemo looks at you with soft eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I would very much like it if you would."

"I can't guarantee I can be at them all. I have to work too. My job isn't nearly as cool as yours though."

"How about this, for every race you come watch, I take you out for drinks after," he offered.

"Are you... asking me out?"

"Only if you attend the races," he states.

You look down at your drink.

"I'll see what I can do, I suppose."

He chuckles, "I'll take it."

"So, there's only three races left, right?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"You have to win all three to beat Stark this season?"

"Yes."

"Can you do it?"

Zemo looks at you with focused eyes. His lips pulled into a smug grin.

"I'm going to do it."

"When is the next race?"

"Two weeks. They are two weeks apart each."

"Right." You read that online. "What's the plan from here. How do you spend the time between races?"

"Improving. Tomorrow I will meet with my crew and see the damages done to my car. I will do whatever I have to do to get it back in top form. I will improve it and test it. Over and over if I have to. I will beat Stark."

You smile.

"I know you can do it. You can."

"Well, if you keep saying it, then I know I can too," he winks at you. You chuckle and try to hide your smile by sipping your drink.

This was nice. You would get to do this again as long as you attended the rest of the races. You made a silent promise to do whatever you could to attend the remaining races. Work be damned!

When you finished your drink, Zemo drove you back to your hotel. Much like last time, you both lingered in the car before you went inside.

"Would you like to come to the garage tomorrow? I could show you what we do behind the scenes," he offers. If he was being genuinely honest, be just wanted to spend more time with you.

"Sure. I'm free tomorrow, but then I'll have to catch the next train home."

"I'm honoured you went to all the trouble to come see me race again," he smiled.

"You invited me. I wasn't going to pass up the chance to see you again," you blurted out.

You sit there in shock. Zemo looks extremely proud and smug.

"I mean-"

"No, no. Don't say any more," he laughs.

You're a blushing mess as you climb put of his car.

"See you tomorrow then?"

You just nod and head inside, embarrassed beyond belief. You can't believe you said that.

Zemo drives away with a smile.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Summary: Laxus has returned to the guild, but is still scared of not being accepted. Freed does what he can to help, and insists that Laxus attend some of the events held in the guildhall. Over the course of a year, and four different parties, the guild starts feeling like home again. And Freed, well... Freed has something to confess.

Notes: Hi. This was a little thing I wrote becuase I haven't done enough canon-verse writing; that and I want to procrastonate from uni work. I hope you all enjoy it, and sorry for any mistakes.

Links: FFN, Ao3

Part of the Party

The Summer Solstice

Freed was, despite what some might claim, rather fond of parties. Not so much in the way a typical Fairy Tail mage might do; he didn't find pleasure in getting as drunk as his body would allow, starting a fight, and collapsing in the mountain of rubble they'd created. Rather, he went to the guild parties to nurse a glass of wine, watch the inevitable decline in both intelligence and balance of his friends, and watch from the side-lines. It was his own form of enjoyment, and yet it had somehow given him the reputation as, as one of his guildmates had so eloquently put it, a boring stick-in-the-mud bastard.

That had been Natsu, who at that moment was wobbling haphazardly towards the bar, hugging Pantherlilly as if he were his own cat, singing at the top of his lungs with neither pitch nor tone. Hardly a reputable source of judgment, Freed concluded.

Still, that was the reputation he had gained, and he wasn't helping that tonight.

Rather, he was making it worse. From the moment he had arrived he had refused any drinks, had perched himself at a table on the second floor as to overlook the party but not be a part of it, and hardly spoken to anybody; not the most convivial actions for celebrating the summer solstice. It hadn't been for lack of wanting to be involved, but rather out of necessity. This was Laxus' first guild event since he had returned, and he hadn't been entirely enthusiastic to go.

It was a problem that had Freed worried. Laxus had been accepted back with open arms, and yet he was still skittish around anyone other than the Raijinshuu. He had been forgiven, but didn't seem to believe it, and avoided everyone as much as he could. Freed knew that, had he not been forceful with his friend, Laxus would have spent the night alone.

So they'd made a deal. Laxus would attend the party, but he was allowed to leave at any moment.

Freed felt that this was maybe too big a step taken too quickly, and he'd only realised that as they approached the guildhall. Laxus was… off-kilter, and this might push him over the edge. So, he had decided that if the worse did happen, Freed would be sober and waiting to help Laxus with it. But it didn't look like he needed it.

"You can't just watch him all night, you know," Mirajane commented as she walked up the stairs, holding a glass of chocolate milkshake; if he couldn't have alcohol, Freed would indulge in other ways. "You might enjoy yourself more. He's doing okay."

"I know," Freed agreed, taking the drink and placing the used glass from earlier on Mirajane's tray. "But I think, the longer he's down there alone, the better. He needs to be fully submerged without his crutch."

"His crutch being you, Ever and Bicks?" Mirajane asked, and Freed nodded. "That's why they're avoiding him, then."

"Indeed, although I suspect Ever would gravitate towards your brother no matter what," Freed chuckled a little, and Mirajane preened a little at the reminder. "Though I must admit, Bickslow, Loke and Natsu being so close does concern me. They're chaotic enough as is, I'd rather not deal with them all together."

"I think they're playing tic-tac-toe," Mirajane frowned a little. "I think it's only a matter of time before Loke suggests making it strip tic-tac-toe, but it's innocent enough right now."

"Perhaps bring me a bucket of water, I could probably pour it over them all from here should they get too involved in their game," Freed mused aloud, and Mirajane laughed a little at the thought.

They both remained in silence for a while, Freed watching as Laxus had a somewhat awkward looking conversation with Reedus, who seemed to be requesting Laxus model for a painting sometimes in the future. Freed smiled a little, hearing Laxus say that he'd consider it; a step in the right direction already. Before his excommunication, Laxus wouldn't have given a second before denying the request, it was nice for him to be making the effort.

Too engrossed in his pride for his friend, Freed missed the slightly sad look on Mirajane's face as she looked down at him. Because of this, when she spoke again, Freed found himself on the back foot and ill-prepared.

"Have you told him yet?" She asked, voice soft but words making Freed freeze. She continued. "It's just that you said that you would, and I really do think he'd-"

"It's not the time," Freed spoke softly, but with firmness.

"When will the time be, Freed?"

"He's," Freed began, but stopped and sighed. "His life is a mess right now. He has nowhere to live other than my sofa, feels like the place he's called home for most of his life doesn't want him there, and doesn't know what to do. It would be cruel to add something else onto that."

"I understand that, but it might be nice for him," Mirajane shrugged. "He likes you back, he always has. He's just not been ready for you until now."

"Well, if that's the case, then we can both wait until things are a little less precarious," Freed stated, putting an end to the conversation.

Mirajane didn't seem to want to push, so Freed looked over the banister to the lower floor to see that Laxus' conversation with Reedus had ended. He looked a little lost for a moment, and Freed let a smile flicker onto his face before it immediately died. Laxus couldn't see it yet, but Lucy was approaching him. She, more than anyone else in the guild, was the person Laxus was most scared of speaking with. He had been avoiding her like the plague, and by the expression of determination on her face, she had noticed.

Freed wanted to intercept, or at least break his own rule and be there beside Laxus. Many times, Laxus had expressed regret for how he had treated his guildmates, and more than anyone else he believed Lucy could not forgive him. Many of the others had known Laxus before his shift in character, but Lucy had only seen him at his worth. He couldn't believe that she would give him any benefit of the doubt.

He clearly didn't know her. Freed had thought that way, until he'd been forced to speak with her about fixing his issue with his hair – something that should have been humiliating, but had instead been easy, and without complication. The woman was kind, nothing less.

"He'll be fine," Mirajane assured Freed. "She just wants to get to know him, and he's been okay with everyone else. It'll be fine."

"I know," Freed said, not believing his own words.

They watched from afar as Lucy finally came face to face with Laxus. He was clearly tense, face unmoving and words stilted. Lucy seemed unaffected, chatting away as she so often didn't with enthusiasm and with cheerfulness. Freed had often wondered how so much optimism could be contained in a single person, but he was glad for it now. This was good, it was going fine.

Until it wasn't.

Freed couldn't hear what had been said, but without warning, Laxus erupted into lightning. He was consumed by it within a moment, and bolts of flickering magic shot out of the door, breaking it open and lighting up the city as it darted through the streets. Laxus was gone, and Lucy was left with her mouth agape, silent in her shock. Freed hissed, placing his milkshake on the table and storming towards the staircase. Teleportation runes had consumed him before he had reached the top step, and he found himself in his sitting room, with Laxus on the sofa, hunched over, crying weakly and trying to stop.

With a small breath, Freed stepped forward and placed a hand on Laxus' shoulder. Laxus tensed, but leaned into it.

"I am so proud of you," Freed whispered. "You were spectacular, and did so well."

Laxus didn't respond. That was how the rest of the night went, until Laxus' tears subsided, and he slept curled up, head resting on Freed's lap. All in all, despite how it had ended, Freed knew that this had been good for Laxus, and was something of a breakthrough for him. As the man gently snored, and Freed ran his hands through his hair, Freed repeated himself in a quiet whisper.

"I am so damn proud of you, Laxus."

---

Freed's Birthday

The singing was a little too much, Freed found.

Discordant, with its volume inversely proportionate to its talent, it sounded somewhat like a bag of cats trying to fight with a set of bagpipes in the middle of a tornado. Well, perhaps that was slightly hyperbolic and fanciful, but he'd had his fair share of champagne throughout the day and as such was allowed to enjoy his creative side.

He'd awoken to his team making him breakfast – pancakes, pain au chocolates, and cinnamon rolls – before he had been taken to the guild. As normal, it was a loud and rowdy affair. The peculiar tradition of his yearly fight with Natsu took place, a grand meal had been prepared, and he'd been sung to. Very very loudly.

Still, it was a nice day. A tradition.

It was good to have Laxus there, too. The blonde had been present for the breakfast, and Freed had expected that would be it for his inclusion of the day. A month had passed since the summer solstice party, and Laxus' time spent in the guildhall was still minimal. Other steps had been made – he'd modelled for Reedus, set up a weekly training session with Gajeel, and went on an incredibly unexpected mission with Happy – but he still struggled with the guild as a whole. He confessed that their team spirit was too much, and it felt like he was intruding.

Freed didn't want to push him. The first party had kicked him into action, and now Laxus was getting to know his guildmembers both old and new, and if doing so one-by-one was what it took then so be it.

But, Laxus had come. He'd eaten, drunk, and Freed had caught sight of him and Gajeel laughing together while the rest of the guild sang at him. It was nice to see, and it had made the signing more bearable. Slightly more bearable, anyway.

Then, the presents came.

As always, they were an onslaught of gifts, some personalised, others more general. Levy had gotten him a first edition copy of 'The Mechanics of Magic', Erza a grindstone to polish his sword on, Reedus a painting containing all of his team and Laxus in the heat of battle, and Lucy a set of quills and ink. He thanked them all graciously, touched by the effort that had been spent on them. His guildmates really were too kind.

The thought made him look up, glancing towards where Laxus had been. Freed hoped that, upon seeing the forgiveness and open kindness he was receiving, Laxus might feel more involved himself. When he looked up, he saw that Laxus had left the guildhall.

Dammit.

He sat through the rest of the gifts, trying to remain focused but unable to feel bad. Eventually they ended, and the party moved onto the next stage: Gajeel and his guitar. If Laxus' departure wasn't excuse enough for Freed to leave the guildhall and go into the courtyard, then the music certainly was.

Once outside, it didn't take him long to find where Laxus had ended up. Freed had hoped that his friend hadn't left altogether, and was gratified when he saw him sitting on the edge of the pool, his boots bedside him and his trousers rolled up. Freed smiled as he walked forward, kicking off his own shoes and folding his own trousers to his knees. He sat beside Laxus, letting his calves rest limply in the cold water in the pool. Laxus shifted a little, clearly in his own head and not having noticed Freed's approach.

"Hey," He murmured quietly. "Sorry I didn't… I couldn't… just got a bit much, y'know."

"I understand," Freed said immediately. "I'm impressed that you managed to-"

"You don't need to do that. I appreciate it, but I don't need you telling me that I'm making steps," Laxus argued, smiling a little. He bumped his shoulder into Freed's, as if to make sure Freed knew he'd taken no offence.

"Very well," Freed nodded. "I'm glad you're here though, it wouldn't have felt right without you."

"I can't let my right-hand man celebrate his birthday without me," Laxus grinned, and Freed chuckled quietly, lifting his foot and watching the ripples that the action caused. "Speaking of which, I should give you this," Laxus leant away from Freed for a moment, reached for something, and handed Freed a hastily wrapped box. He didn't meet Freed's eye when he handed it to him. "I was gonna give it to you in the morning, but wanted to force myself to come here so held off. So, erm, happy birthday."

"Thank you, Laxus," Freed smiled, taking the box with a smile.

"You don't know what it is yet," Laxus grinned a little. "Bicks didn't get you a speedo this year, maybe I wanted to keep up the tradition."

"If you did, then there would be a sense of irony because you'd be the one ended up in the pool," Freed chuckled. "And he did, actually. Somehow, and I can only blame Mirajane for this, he had it baked into my slice of the cake," Laxus barked out a laugh. "It was lime green. In a few years' time I'll have a whole rainbow of them."

"Wonder what he'll do when he runs outta colours," Laxus grinned, before nudging Freed again. "Open it."

Freed did as instructed, and halted a little when he realised what it was. It was an Armillary Sphere. It seemed to be made from solid gold, shining under the lamps strewn across the courtyard. He gently ran his hands over the incremental engravings, adjusting the device slowly with a look of wonderment on his face.

"It's beautiful," He whispered. "How did you…"

"I don't know if you remember, but we did a mission together a couple years back and finished it early. We got pretty pissed after, since neither of us had had a break for a while," Laxus was a little red in the face. "We were lying in a clearing somewhere, looking at the stars. And you suddenly started naming them all, telling me all the stories associated with the consolations. You kept going, you could even figure out our coordinates based on what we could see. You just kept talking about stars, and astronomy and I never forgot it. You mentioned that you used to have one of these in yer old house, and I saw it in an antique store before I came back to the guild and thought you might have liked it."

"It's incredible," Freed was a little breath taken. The fact Laxus had brought it before returning to the guild was just… "Thank you, Laxus. It's… perhaps one of the nicest things someone has done for me."

"Aw don't say that," Laxus laughed a little, but there was a quaver in his words. "Not when I've got the heights of the speedo collection to contend with. And what did Gray get ya? A monocle? Who the hell put him up to that?"

"In fairness, I did gift him a scarf for his last birthday. Which, with him is the equivalent of throwing a pebble into an active volcano with how long it'll stay on his body," Freed chuckled. "I did tell him that, so I suspect the monocle is his act of revenge."

Laxus made a little laugh, leaning back on his hands and watching the ripples across the water. Freed did the same, shifting slightly and allowing his side to press gently against Laxus'. Laxus didn't move, and Freed had a soft smile across his features as he allowed a yawn to split his lips. A party was nice and all, but this was better.

---

Halloween

"Fuck," Laxus gaped as he looked at Freed. "You take this seriously, huh?"

Freed chuckled a little at Laxus' reaction. As demanded by Bickslow, Freed had kept his costume a secret from everyone, including Laxus. That had been a difficult feat, given that Freed had removed his desk and books from his office, turned it back into a bedroom and they had become official roommates. The costume had been tucked away in the back of his closet for a month, and this was the first time anyone other than Freed himself had seen it.

As always, the Raijinshuu went in a themed costume. This year, fighters throughout history. Evergreen had insisted on being a Viking, Bickslow had chosen an old Rune Amry uniform, and Freed had decided on a gladiator.

The costume was hardly the most accurate, historically speaking, but Freed liked it. His torso was covered by a leather chest plate, complete with straps to hold it in place, a single metal shoulder guard, and a red cape that hung to his lower back. His modesty was protected by a tunic which ended above his knees. He had also adorned sandals that wrapped around his legs, and he'd forgone the helmet as it seemed unnecessary in the end. The look was completed with his sword that was attached to his hip, as normal.

"I forgot, you haven't seen any of our costumes, have you," Freed chuckled. "What do you think."

"It's…" Laxus seemed to pause for a moment. "Good. Really good- creative, I mean. You put a lot of effort into it."

"Thank you for noticing," Freed smiled. "Are you ready to go?"

"Give me a couple minutes to change," Laxus dismissed, and Freed frowned as Laxus retreated into his bedroom.

Laxus had been adamant that he wouldn't wear any costumes at all, because he wasn't into that kind of thing. It was what Freed had expected, and honestly he was happy that Laxus was willing to come at all. Laxus had been at the guild more often lately, and Freed felt that maybe his birthday party had helped with that. Perhaps it was nice to know that Laxus could get some time alone, gather his thoughts, but still be a part of the guild's events.

Freed sat on the sofa for a moment, having to adjust his position when he realised that his tunic had a tendency to ride up and show… everything. Better to know now than to make the mistake in the guild where his friends would be delighted to mock him for it.

Maybe he should allow for another anachronism and wear some boxers…

The door to Laxus' room opened, and Freed looked towards him immediately. A spluttering of laughter slipped out before Freed could stop it, and Laxus raised an eyebrow at him, amusement obvious in his face. He stepped forward, spread his arms to better reveal himself, and grinned.

"Just as good as yours, right?" He joked.

It wasn't as good as Freed's. Laxus' costume consisted of a fairly cheap red suit, a white shirt with ruffles of all things, and a pair of red devil horns. It was put together in a rush, had no detail given to it, and was perhaps to most delightful thing Freed had ever seen. One year ago, when Freed had been celebrating the holiday without Laxus, he wondered if the blonde might have scoffed at the Raijinshuu's new found fondness for Halloween. Now, Laxus had a smile that was almost goofy on his face, wearing a costume that he'd made for himself. Freed couldn't ask for more.

"It's certainly a costume," Freed smirked, and Laxus laughed.

"You know, I'm dressed as the devil," Laxus all but sauntered forward, a good look on the man. "And if you're a demon, that kind of makes me your king, right? And, as your king, surely you should show me some respect and kneel for me."

Rather than allow that comment to affect him – boxers really would have been a good idea – he immediately spoke again. "Say that to Mirajane and I'll pay your tab for a month."

"Nah, I like my organs on the inside," Laxus grinned, walking towards the front door.

"You know that the moment Bickslow and Ever seen that you're willing to wear a costume of any kind, they're going to drag you into our tradition whether you like it or not," Freed taunted as he closed the door and locked it behind him. "I'm afraid to say, Laxus, that this," He gestures to himself. "Is your future."

Laxus paused for a moment, then smiled a private smile.

"I can think of a lot of things worse than that, Freed."

---

New Year's Eve

Laxus Dreyar and Lucy Heartfilia were having a drinking contest.

It was perhaps the only thing that Freed had seen that might convince him that miracles were real. But there they were, two pints of beer in front of them both, drinking as if their lives depended on it. Even more ridiculous, Laxus had been the one instigate it. He'd brought the tray of drinks over, looked Lucy dead in the eye and claimed that, if she drank hers before he did his, then he'd pay for every drink she got for all of January.

Freed watched from above, smiling a little as he leant on the banister. As normal, he had spent the party with a glass of red, watching as his guildmates got drunker and drunker, making asses out of themselves for his amusement. It had been perfect, and he was delighted that Laxus seemed to be getting involved.

"Shit," Laxus cussed loudly when he placed his glass down. "Where the hell did you learn to drink like that?"

Lucy said something in return, but it was too quiet for Freed to hear. She had clearly won their wager, and Laxus seemed to be in good spirits despite the financial loss. They spoke for a little while longer before breaking apart, Lucy walking towards her team, Laxus looking around before spotting where Freed had decided to stay.

He took the stairs to the second floor two by two, grinning at Freed widely when he was face to face with him. He wasn't drunk – Freed had seen Laxus drunk before many times – but he was in high spirits. It was nice to see.

"Hey," Laxus greeted. "You still sticking up here, huh?"

"Best place to be," Freed shrugged, leaning on the banister when Laxus was beside him. "You can see everyone stumbling and falling, and there's no chance of one of them vomiting on you."

"You really know how to party, huh?" Laxus teased, and Freed chuckled.

For a moment, they watched over the guild. Their arms lightly grazed one another, and Freed found himself smiling a little. These moments hadn't happened before. Laxus hadn't ever allowed himself to slow down, to enjoy himself. Ever since Laxus had come back, he'd been more… contemplative. He allowed himself moments of calm and time to think, and Freed enjoyed sharing those times with him. Over the last year, he'd spent many hours in silent company with Laxus by his side, and those moments had become very dear to Freed.

"Was talking to Mira," Laxus spoke up again. "Said you made a promise to her, that you'd tell me something before the year ended."

"Did she?" Freed mumbled slightly. He would be having words with the interfering woman.

"She did," Laxus agreed, looking towards Freed with a soft expression. Freed kept his gaze on the guildhall below. "But, between the two of us, I don't think you should."

Freed froze. "You don't."

"Nah, I don't," Laxus agreed. "Because everything you wanna say to me I already know. Have for a while, but I've been too shit scared to deal with it. Not anymore, though."

"Is that so?" Freed asked, not conveying tone. Where was Laxus going with this?

"Yeah. Pushing away my feelings nearly fucking killed me, and it ain't gonna happen again. And the thing is, everything you were gonna say to me, I know I wanna say to you. But I don't think I've gotten to that point yet, so instead I'm gonna ask something of ya."

"Ask what of me?"

"I'm gonna ask you make a promise to me," Laxus stated. "I'm gonna ask that you promise that," he looked to the countdown clock above the door, "in forty nine seconds, you kiss me. I'm gonna ask that you promise to go to dinner with me tomorrow night as my date. I'm gonna ask you promise me you'll let me show you how much I fucking care about you, and how much I know I'm gonna love you the second I can," His voice wavered slightly. "Because I really-"

Freed cut him off, leaning up and cupping Laxus' cheek with his right hand. He leant forward, pressed their lips together and kissed Laxus for the very first time. Bells rang and fireworks exploded around them, but neither man cared. Freed melted into the kiss, and Laxus wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him closer.

"I promise," Freed whispered, before starting another incredible, explosive kiss.

[little-mad]

“Tiny ears! Remember?!” With Tara and Thomas!

Ok, I really liked writing this one

From this list of prompts here

And for anyone who doesn’t know, more details about these two can be found on my oc masterlist

______________________________________________________

After knowing one another for two months, Tara finally agreed to cross into giant territory for her meetings with Thomas. Admittedly, it was kind of awkward standing on opposite sides of the creek. More importantly, being out in the open like that, they ran the risk of getting seen by somebody. Tara definitely did not want to have to explain why she was hanging out with a giant to her family and friends back home.

The spot she and Thomas had decided on wasn’t far into giant territory, in fact Tara could still catch a glimpse of the border through the trees. Meanwhile, Thomas was about as concealed as his giant form would allow in an area with trees shorter than him.

Of course, Tara never would have agreed to the arrangement had she not been confident Thomas harbored no ill will towards her. The guy had saved her life twice, and after getting to know him better and better over time, she could almost call him a friend.

That being said, Tara had been sure to set up clear ground rules. Most important of the rules was that Thomas had to keep his hands to himself unless given express permission otherwise. The giant had pouted extensively about it. He obviously got a kick out of holding and touching her, which was exactly why Tara had forbidden it. Plus, being around hands that could easily snuff out her life made her more than a little anxious, believe it or not.

In order to avoid physical contact while still managing to remain close to Thomas’s eye level, Tara had positioned herself in a high branch of a tree directly in front of where the giant was sitting. Thomas had been fretting like a mother hen as she climbed up, insisting it was too dangerous for someone “so itty bitty.” The comment only served to make Tara climb quicker. She’d been scaling trees since she was little, she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Wait, but I thought you said you wanted to study at that university?” Tara inquired as she absentmindedly swayed her dangling legs back and forth.

During their last meeting, Thomas had explained to her his desire to attend some fancy school in a giant city a ways away. They had something sort of similar on the human side of the border, but it was incredibly far away and was very selective with who they allowed as students. No one in Tara’s town ever even considered it as a feasible option.

Thomas gave a humorless laugh. “Well of course I want to, both Lane and I have dreamed of going there for years,” he explained. “But it costs an arm and a leg to even be allowed to study there, not to mention room and board, food, supply costs...we’d never be able to afford it.” He let out a resigned sigh.

A frown formed on Tara’s face. She couldn’t necessarily empathize with Thomas’s situation exactly, but the feeling of being trapped by forces out of her own control was familiar enough after encountering giants. “So what are you going to do then?” she asked. The First Hunt had marked Thomas’s transition from child to adult, meaning he could no longer rely on his parents and needed to seek out a way to make a living.

“I’ll probably start helping out at my uncle’s shop, at least for now,” Thomas said with a shrug. He didn’t look especially pleased with the plan, but before Tara could call him out on it, he spoke up again. “What about you? Are you going to keep gathering supplies for your doctor?” he questioned.

Since even before she had finished school, Tara had been assisting the town’s physician by foraging for medicinal supplies that could be found in nature. At first it had mostly been freelance, but within the past month she had begun receiving a regular wage from the doctor. Tara enjoyed the unrestrictive nature of the work, plus the pay wasn’t half bad either. That being said, she couldn’t see herself doing it for the rest of her life.

“Well actually…” Tara started, “I’ve been thinking I might want to join one of the scouting parties.” The job was mentally and physically demanding, but scouts were well paid and well respected. Plus, after almost being eaten on two separate occasions, Tara felt as though non-giant related dangers were pretty manageable.

“Are you crazy?!” Tara winced at the unexpected volume of Thomas’s voice, her hands instinctively going to cover her ears against the thundering noise.

When her ears stopped ringing, she lowered her hands and shot a scowl up at the giant’s face. “Hey!” she shouted, “Tiny ears! Remember?!” Despite his natural enthusiasm, Thomas was usually pretty good at keeping his voice at a volume that was comfortable to Tara. Over time, his accidental loud outbursts had decreased in frequency. Whatever streak he’d had was now soundly broken of course.

Thomas’s eyes went wide as he realized what he’d done. “Sorry, sorry!” he exclaimed in an overly hushed tone. His cheeks became tinged with a slight red color and he wore a regretful expression on his face as he looked down at Tara. “I just--I can’t believe you would actually consider doing something so needlessly risky.” When he finished the sentence he began to take on the appearance of a stern father or something.

Tara pressed her lips together. She wasn’t really sure why Thomas seemed so worked up over the idea of her joining a scouting party. In the past, she had described what the scouts did and why they were so important to the wellbeing of her town. She’d mentioned the fact that, aside from ensuring no giants ever crossed into human territory, scouts were also responsible for fending off vicious wild animals, as well as occasionally dealing with bandits that sometimes hung around the woods surrounding the town. Sure, it was probably one of the more dangerous jobs Tara could do, but it wasn’t as if it were a death sentence. It was rare that a scout was ever killed in the line of duty.

“It’s not ‘needlessly risky’, Thomas,” she insisted. “Scouts are vital to the safety of my town. Plus, it’s not as dangerous as you seem to be imagining it to be.”

“The world is a dangerous place, and you’re so small--” Thomas started, but Tara was quick to interrupt him with a raised hand.

“Okay--just because I’m small to you, doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself just fine.”

“But why risk it when you don’t have to?”

Tara rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to live my life in a bubble.” It was becoming increasingly clear to her that while Thomas may view her as a person in some respects, he still thought of her as some kind of weak creature in need of protection. Considering he’d had to save her life on multiple occasions, Tara supposed she couldn’t entirely blame him. But that had been when she’d been in giant territory. Things were different on her side of the border.

At first, Thomas opened his mouth as if he were about to shoot back a retort. However, after a moment’s pause, his expression softened slightly. “I’m--I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he admitted.

Tara sighed. It was hard to stay too mad at the guy when he sounded so genuine. He seemed to really care about her wellbeing, even if he was being a bit overbearing about it. She allowed her tensed shoulders to relax. “I appreciate your concern,” she began, making sure to choose her words carefully. “But I promise, I’ll be fine.” Tara offered Thomas her most sincere smile. “Besides, I don’t even know for sure if I am actually going to join a scouting party. It’s just a possibility.”

With slow, controlled movements, Thomas leant forward so that his face was hanging about a foot above where Tara sat. She stiffened when one of his hands gently settled down beside her on the branch, close but not quite making contact with her body. “You don’t know how much I wish I could touch you right now,” he stated, a petulant look on his face.

With her cheeks flushing pink, Tara attempted to disguise it by fixing an unperturbed expression on her face. “You--you can keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Grabby,” she declared stubbornly.

Even if she trusted Thomas not to hurt her, willingly allowing a giant to touch her felt like crossing some line. Of course, she’d already crossed all kinds of lines just by agreeing to meet with him in the first place. Maybe Tara wasn’t completely opposed to letting him touch her--but only for practical purposes! Allowing him to fiddle with her now was certainly not practical.

Thomas gave Tara a pouty face, but when she remained resolute, he released a dramatic sigh before pulling away. “You’re killing me here.”

Tara snorted as she shook her head. “You are such a drama queen.”

[butteraway]

when time runs out | v

⋆ summary:  A young girl has fallen deeply ill with an unknown disease in her, so with all her free time spent in an empty hospital room, she spends it online playing video games. That's until she meets her cousins friends, one spiking her interest with his extremely vulgare language.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 6.3k

warnings: none

authors note: HERE IT IS!! A whopping 6k chapter can you believe this lol :’) I plan on making the chapters this long, so that means it’ll take a little longer for me to write,,, But enjoy this guys!

Y/N was laying on her bed, twirling the bottle of pills that captivated her interest. Sitting up, she slowly opened the cap and took a pill out. She examined it, liking how the yellow and green color meshed together. The pills didn't look like anything special, just your basic average pill.

Her conversation with doc was a bit unnerving though to say the least. The doctor was acting a bit off if you asked her.                                      ______________________

Y/N looked at Receen with uncertainty painting her face. What was the meaning of this? Was it really possible for her if she took these pills? He wouldn't try to kill her? They've known each other for almost two years, so he wouldn't try anything.

Right?

"C'mon Y/N, you trust me right? You can see your family again, just take them!" Doctor Receen urged the girl with an enthusiastic smile. Though the look in his eyes seemed a bit desperate for her to take them. Weird.

"Say, Doc, I don't wanna sound ungrateful or anything, but-" she was cut off by a soft laugh. It sounded more forced.

"Y/N, there's nothing to worry about! You had professionals work and conduct these small things! Here! Just take them and think about it!" Receen tossed the bottle to Y/N, who barely caught it with both hands. "I'll have someone bring in some fresh clothes just in case you do want to try these things out.”

And just like that he was out the door.                                     ______________________

Y/N scratched the back of her neck as she put the pill back in the bottle, wondering why the doctor was pushy with her taking them. Her eyes wandered around the room until they landed on the new pile of clothes sitting on the edge of her bed. A kind lady bought it a short while ago, giving her a small smile before leaving.

Though, Y/N decided she'd play a game before calling her parents to tell them the wonderful news. It still felt odd for her to just get pills for her sickness right then and there. Even if it wasn’t a permanent solution. She wasn't even informed about the making of her medicine, despite what Receen had told her. All that she knew was that they were trying to keep her alive. Turning on her console and taking her controller, she glanced at the bottle. She didn't close it of course, wanting to see that they were actually real. 

Putting on her headphones, she put on Fortnite and waited for other players to join. She really hated this game, but it was hilarious to see people rage. Seeing someone join, she tried to talk to them, but got no response. Briefly closing her eyes for a few seconds, she snapped them open after hearing a familiar gruff voice. King Explosion Murder!

"We better win this or I'll look for all of you and kill you." That was literally the first thing the dude said as the game began. Y/N let out an awkward chuckle, a sweat drop appearing on her forehead. This'll be interesting. She cleared her throat, slightly catching the attention of ‘Explosion Murder'.

"Hey! Do you remember me? We played together a few nights ago, with this other guy called Tape Dispenser on OverWatch!" Y/N decided to take a friendly approach, trying not to blow a fuse with this guy. I do not wanna be on this guy's bad side again. Silence filled the air, making Y/N feel slightly uncomfortable.

"Who the fuck are you?" Said girl nearly choked on her spit as she doubled over. She began shooting at random people as the game began, taking them down and moving with her small team. She once again felt her eyebrow twitch.

"What do you mean 'who are you?' Y/N asked, lowering her voice to mimic Murder's voice. She made her character shoot a person in front of her. Headshot!

"I have no idea who the hell you are, so shut the hell up!" Murder's voice rang through her ear as she winced at the volume. So loud! Her other teammate was shot down and killed, making Y/N sigh.

"You sure dude? I'm the one who almost won the game, but like, died at the very end?" Y/N didn't even know why she was even trying to talk to this guy. She just felt like she wanted to know him better. Or her. Could be a girl with a really deep voice? Murder was quiet before a growl like grunt was heard.

"So you're the damn girl who did that." Murder's voice was low and Y/N didn't know whether or not to feel scared for herself. "Haha! Yeah, that was me." She awkwardly laughed, not sure if he was going to blow a fuse because of that.

Murder was quiet, with the exception of his breathing being heard through her headphones. Y/N just came to the conclusion that Murder was, in fact, a dude. She didn't want to believe that a girl had that deep of a voice. It was possible, she thought, though she couldn't picture a female with that voice. She'd die if she did. The thought made her stifle a laugh.

"The fuck you laughing about?!" Y/N looked at his kill counts and her eyes widened. 7 already?! Goddamn! She looked at her own and only saw three. "Well aren't you curious now?" Murder let out a huff, as if he were trying to contain his inner rage. "I was asking for a goddamn reason." 

Y/N swore she could feel his irritation through the screen. The two met up and began to continue to go to the middle of the map. 6 kills. Cool! She once again looked at Murder's kills and felt her confidence deflate once again. Way to make me depressed dude. As she was shooting a player, Y/N looked at the kill feed and almost spit everywhere.

"MOTHER FUCKING FUCKER!" This dude exploded, and by the noise, she assumed he threw his chair. This dude! Suddenly, an idea came in her, oh so beautiful, head. "Yo yo yo, bro! I gotta deal!" This caught Murder's attention as he let out an aggressive 'What.’ She smiled wide as she continued to play the game, knocking down and killing another player. 

"I carry the team and win, you accept my friend request!" 

"What if you don't win, huh?" That's what Y/N was scared of. She let out a defeated sigh and surrendered. "I'll give you the most rare skin I own." There was silence as she took some damage from another player. 

"Which is what?" She swallowed and opened her mouth. "It's the skin that was only given to 5 players from the event last year." 

"Deal." He said it so fast that Y/N was actually scared to give him it. But she always kept her word. Looking to see how much other players were left, she felt her heart speed up. Why am I freaking doing this?! The girl continued to focus on the game at hand and began skillfully killing the other players. She got hit a few times, but never went down. When it was finally one player left, besides herself, she began to be cautious. At last, she took down the final player and yelled out in joy!

"Oh yeah! Now that's what I'm talking about baby! Sweet sweet victory!" Y/N cheered while throwing her hands up in the air and slightly jumping on her bed. She had no idea why she was even this excited to win. Maybe it's cuz I like him. Y/N stopped mid cheer, before she burst out with laughter as she wondered why she even thought that. She doesn't even know the guy!

"Well, looks like you're gonna have to accept me!" Murder let out a couple of grumbles and snide comments as he accepted her request that she sent. "It was only fucking luck. Don't get too cocky."

Y/N gave a toothy smile that he couldn't see and giggled. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." The small girl looked at the time and decided this was enough for the day. "Well Mr. Explody, I gotta go! It was cool playing with you!" 

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Get off now, you're starting to piss me off." Y/N laughed at his sour attitude and decided to fuel the flame some more.

"Y'know, you should work on your gaming. You suck." The girl quickly got off the game and turned off her console, but not without hearing him yell at her. The smile never left her face as she fell on her back and looked at the ceiling. Gosh, he's so weird. She continued to replay their interactions before turning her head and looking at the phone. She sighed and sat up. 

All her happy feelings went down the drain. Something just didn't feel right with the medicine the doctor gave her. Whatever. It's probably because I always thought I'd be cooped up in this room for the rest of my life. Y/N blinked and walked to the phone and dialed her parents number. She stood anxious, hearing the phone ring and her hands trembling with excitement? Fear? Who knows.

"Hello? Y/N? How are you!" Her mom's cheery voice sounded through the phone and once again, the girl smiled. "Hi Mommy! I'm fine, perfectly fine actually. What about you?" She decided to keep things smooth and simple. The laughter of her mother brought Y/N back to reality.

"Oh Y/N! No need to be so formal! I'm your mother, no need to act like that!" Y/N let out a chuckle and brushed her hair away from her face. "Yeah, sorry Mommy." 

"And to answer your question, I am doing amazing!" She let out a hum, letting her mother know she heard. "Well, I have some kind of big and important news. So basically, Doctor Receen made some kind of medicine. For my, y'know, 'sickness.' Crazy right?"

There was a small pause before the cheerful voice of her mother sounded in her ear. "I know! The Doctor had already told your father and I beforehand! I was so ecstatic, and I still am for you-"

"Wait, you already knew? And you didn't tell me?" Y/N’s voice was filled with confusion. Why didn’t mom tell me? Was she keeping it a secret? Did she try hiding it from me? Was she ever going to-

“Well I wanted it to be a surprise for you from the doctor!” Said the older woman happily, leaving Y/N to feel embarrassed. She let out a small ‘Oh’, and rubbed her neck. Why did she even think her mother wouldn’t tell her something so important? Shaking her head, Y/N continued.

“Well thank you! I’m still, uh, just still a little skeptical of the pills. I’m not sure if they are actually going to work…” The clear doubt was heard in the girl’s voice. Her mother furrowed her eyebrows.

“But sweetie! Of course they’re going to work! I would’ve thought you’d be more excited about this!” Glancing up to look at the bottle, Y/N could only let out a short ‘yeah.’ 

“So when will you be coming! Your dad and I agreed that we would pick you up after you took one of the pills, so you could come home for a while!” Her mother’s voice continued to rant off about what they were going to do when she came back home. While the voice continued, Y/N drifted off into her head.

How am I going to tell Denki this? Should I like, surprise him when he comes back from school? Hmm, I swear if he cries, I think I will too-

“Y/N! Y/N honey are you there?” Zooming back into reality, she let out a chuckle from her mother’s worried voice.

“Yeah mom, sorry. I was just thinking about some things.” M/N hummed in understanding. It grew quiet quick, but soon was filled with Y/N’s sweet voice. “I think I’ll take the pill on Friday mommy. You can come pick me up at around three. This gives you some time to prepare for everything, heh.”

Her mother let out loud cheers, happy that she will be able to see her daughter face to face again. It’s been so long since she had last seen Y/N, not being able to take it, seeing her child confined in a spacious room. 

The two talked for a short moment more until they decided to hang up. Placing down the phone, Y/N sighed. Dragging herself and the IV back to her bed, she sat in silence. Who knows how long she stayed in that position, all that she knows is that she was snapped out of her daze after a brief knock to her door. She hummed, loud enough for the person to hear. Opening the door, the woman walked in, boots squeaking against the clean floor. The short spray in the air filled the silence as the doctor walked over to Y/N’s IV bag.

Watching her check and adjust the fluid bag, Y/N’s big eyes snapped to the doctor’s face when she began speaking. “You’ve been moving a lot. The needle is off center from where it’s supposed to be.” 

As she said that, the girl felt a slight pinch on her arm and saw the doctor putting the needle back into its rightful place. Satisfied with the placement of the needle, she hummed in acceptance and patted Y/N’s arm with her gloved hand. Moving her arm around to get used to the feeling of it back inside her body, Y/N wondered when it had fallen out. Huh, I didn’t even notice. 

Feeling the need to fill the silence, Y/N spoke. “Well, today was an exciting day, haha. Received amazing news and had a wonderful conversation with my mom.” Y/N chuckled in false amusement, but the doctor could only narrow her eyes at the small girl. “Mm, you sound so excited, I could tell when I first walked in here.”

Now Y/N did laugh at that. Who knew the scary doctor lady could go along with her sarcasm! With now gleaming eyes, the excitement was now visible in her eyes. Now that she knew the doctor was ‘nice’, she definitely was going to have fun talking with this doctor. Seeing as she turned around and went to head towards the door, Y/N was quick to stop her. 

“Hey! What’s your name?” The doctor’s eyes widened in shock and turned fully to the girl who had now stood up.

“What do you mean ‘what’s your name?’ I’ve been one of your main doctors for two years!” The woman exclaimed in exasperation, unbelieving of the situation she was just put in. Y/N could only weakly shrug.

“Sorry about that! I just, uh, like was too nervous around you to remember your name?” As pathetic as the excuse was, she was telling the truth! I am so sorry Ms. Doctor! The older woman could only shake her head in amusement.

“My name is Doctor Shuzenji Kumiko, but call me Doctor Kumiko. Now you better remember that, this will be the last time I tell you my name.” Y/N nodded her head with such affirmation, Doctor Kumiko thought the child would accidentally hurt herself. And right now she did not need that happening. While she shook her head though, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a strike of familiarity at her name. But what about it is familiar? Cranking every gear in her head, she failed to notice Doctor Kumiko looking around the room.

Doctor Kumiko was never able to get a proper look around the sick girl’s room, seeing as her mission was to go in, check if Y/N was ok, and then get out. Though she immediately noticed how empty her room was. Only one big bed, a flat screen tv perched on a small table, and the medical equipment were all that occupied the room. Though now that she started paying more attention, the room was a different color. Bland white walls were now full of a bright color, something not too dark, but not too eye bleeding. It was a nice appealing color that suited the girl standing in front of her. That’s when Doctor Kumiko’s eyes landed on the small table next to the grand bed. They slightly widened as they caught eyesight on the small bottle. 

“I can’t believe he gave them to her.” Kumiko hissed silently just as Y/N snapped her fingers. Staring at the doctor, she tilted her head. 

“Did you say something?”

“Huh? Oh no, it’s nothing! Just remembering something is all!” Doctor Kumiko rubbed her neck, putting the momentary problem in the back of her head for now. Y/N shrugged her shoulders, curiously looking at the doctor in front of her. Clearing her throat, the doctor shifted the focus off herself.

“So were you going to say something?” Slowly fiddling with her gloved hands, the Doctor could only sigh in relief as Y/N eyes popped open quickly.

“AH YES!” Y/N quickly wobbled to the doctor forgetting to take the IV that weighed her down with her. The doctor let out a small gasp, stepping behind the girl and rolling it next to Y/N who didn’t pay any attention to that.

“I finally recognize where I heard that last name from! And no, I didn’t just remember your name you supposedly told me before.” The lady’s sharp eyes rolled, letting her continue.

“RECOVERY GIRL HAS THE SAME SURNAME! ISN’T THAT INSANE?! I HONESTLY FIND THAT SO COOL! I wish I had the same name as a famous person, oooo like All Might’s name, or or even Endeavor’s!” Doctor Kumiko cringed at the sound of Endeavor’s name but paid no mind to that. Right now she had to deal with a hero fangirl. Just then Y/N abruptly stopped her rapid talking, moving closer to Doctor Kumiko’s face.

“Wait. Are you like-” Y/N looked around the room as if there was someone else watching them. When she was done, she leaned closer to the doctor’s protected head and whispered the following words. “Are you Recovery Girl’s daughter?” The woman could only sigh and stared into the girl’s shining eyes. When Y/N got no response she determined her answer by herself.

“Oh my gOSH!!! WAIT LIKE FOR REAL?! LIKE YOU’RE ACTUALLY HER DAUGHTER?? YOU LOOK A LITTLE YOUNG TO BE HER DAUGHTER BUT I’M NOT COMPLAINING! WOW THIS IS SO CRAZY, ALL THIS TIME YOU WALKED IN HERE AND I HAD NO IDEA WHO YOU ACTUALLY WERE!! I HAVE TO TELL DENKI HE’S GONNA FREAK OUT-” Doctor Kumiko bellowed a laugh so grand it had Y/N laughing along as well. After attempting to wipe away her tears soon realizing she couldn’t due to her helmet, she let out more bubbly laughs. 

“Aahhh, you’re pure gold!! I can see why Receen likes you!” She smiled brightly down towards Y/N who gave her a beaming grin of her own in return. “But yes! You’re right, though not entirely.” 

Y/N trying to keep up with Doctor Kumiko’s pace to her bed, they both sat down and got comfortable. “Since you basically found out my family tree, to answer your question fully, I am related to Recovery Girl. I’m not her daughter, but her granddaughter instead.” 

The small girl’s eyes widened in shock. No way. She actually met someone who’s related to one of the greatest heroes of all time. Don’t fight her on this, she knows what she’s talking about. As she stared at the doctor with such admiration, Kumiko could only give her a weak smile. She knew what the next question would be. Her answer would always leave people with disappointment. 

“Wait! Does that mean that you have a similar quirk to Recovery Girl? After two generations, wouldn’t your quirk be more evolved at this point? Or do you have a mixture of both your parents quirk, seeing as your mom could’ve inherited some of Recovery Girl’s quirk or something like that!” Doctor Kumiko only shook her head leaving Y/N confused.

“Then did you get a quirk similar to your dads?” Once again shaking her head no, Y/N was beyond confused. Until a thought passed through her head.

“Are you… are you quirkless?” Y/N didn’t really consider a descendant from a nationwide known hero to be quirkless. It’s possible, but very unlikely. After all, only 20 percent of people in the world aren’t born with quirks. Me included. Y/N’s eyebrow twitched at the truth of her thought train. Once again though, the doctor shook her head and went to explain to the young girl.

“I do have a quirk, so that’s not the problem. The problem lies in how efficient my quirk is.” Y/N listened intently, ready to store this useful information in her memory. Ohoho Denki is gonna be sooo jealous, heheh. “My quirk is actually quite weak compared to my grandmother.”

“My mother was born quirkless, meaning that when she had me, many doctors had thought I would be too. But instead, I got a similar quirk to my grandmother. Since my mother had direct DNA from her, part of that DNA was transferred to me, to her granddaughter. Everyone was ecstatic to learn I had gotten a quirk similar to my grandmother, some even thought my quirk would be even greater than hers.

“But alas, I was handed the remains of the quirk from my mother, so I only proved to have a much much weaker quirk compared to Recovery Girl.” Soaking up the information, Y/N looked to Doctor Kumiko. Despite sharing not so amazing information, she didn’t seem to be too bothered by sharing it. In fact, she looked perfectly fine!

“I’ve come to terms that my quirk will always be a weak one, but that doesn’t stop me from using it all. I help as best as I could, using my quirk to help young children when they scrape their knees, and just replenishing as much energy into those who need it the most. I think the biggest wound I’ve healed was a large burn! I was so proud of myself, but I was just so exhausted! So I mostly conserve energy when I need to.”

Y/N nodded, happy that the doctor was sharing so much with her. She didn’t care if it was ‘improper’ or something, she was just glad to be able to talk to someone who wasn’t Receen or Denki.

“You seem quite happy with what you do. How much people have you helped?” Y/N smiled happily at the doctor. “ I’ve helped so many people. And just with my quirk!” Sighing happily, Doctor Kumiko got up and headed towards the door. 

“Do you visit Recovery Girl often?” Y/N had a small favor she would like to ask the doctor, though she needed to make sure she was able to do it first. 

“Of course, she is my grandmother after all. She would spam call me if I hadn’t visited her in over a week.” Doctor Kumiko deadpanned at the thought of that, having experienced that before. Y/N giggled at the thought, phone constantly ringing for who knows how long!

“Makes me deliver her food too if she forgot it. That lady is too much work sometimes.” The doctor rubbed her head, a headache already rolling in at the thought of all the things her grandmother makes her do.

‘Well since you see and visit her~” Y/N smiled sweetly at the woman looking at her with suspicious eyes. “Then that means you have access to the U.A. building!” Now Kumiko was narrowing her eyes at the girl at this point.

“Yes, I’m also a helper at the school too. What cards are you playing right now Ms. L/N?” Said girl chuckled mischievously, quickly moving to grab a small note pad in the drawer of her small table. Ripping out a piece of paper and quickly scribbling words on it and folding it, she handed the paper to the doctor who stared at it in confusion.

“GREAT! I need you to deliver this to my cousin that goes to the school! Since you have access to the school, which I don’t know why you didn’t tell me sooner, this makes your little journey for me easier!” Sharp eyes flew from the paper in her hand to the young girl’s face, back to the paper. Sighing, she silently agreed.

“Thank you!!! Ok, so his name is Kaminari Denki and he’s a first year in the hero course! I don’t know which one, but he’s in one of them if he didn’t lie to me.” Chuckling, the doctor nodded and stood up from the bed. 

“Well I spent too much time in here. I think it’s been the most since the two years I’ve been checking up on you.” Walking to the door, she paused for a moment, turning around to look at the girl who had sat back down on her bed.

“I’ll be sure to get these to your cousin as soon as possible. Also, I’m sure you’ll be able to help so many people when you’re out of here. But please be careful with those pills. They’re very strong so consume them with caution." And with that, she left, door opening, closing, and the familiar sound of the air purifier turning on. 

Chatter filled the classroom in the early morning, the students excited for another day in U.A. Ever since the recent villain attack, many of them were still filled with fear, though their determination to grow stronger overshadowed any negative thoughts. The days passed by since then and many of the young heroes have made it their goal to be stronger than they were before.

Which leads us to a blonde boy with a black lightning streak in his hair, sitting nonchalantly in his chair. He listened to his rambling friend, the red head mentioning something about Crimson Riot, or something like that.

“And ever since then, I always followed his words! He’s my number one inspiration after all-” A grunt was heard next to him, the boys’ eyes turning to the ash blond boy sitting next to them.

“Yeah yeah, we heard this story already, why don’t you talk about something new?” His gruff voice didn’t knock down the red head’s bright mood though, only pushing him to talk more.

“Alright Bakubro, if that’s what you want!” The boy grinned, his sharp teeth on display for everyone to see. And even despite that, no one was very afraid of his appearance, seeing as his personality shone out like the sun outside. “So what did you guys do this weekend? I’ve been training for hours! Ever since U.S.J, I’ll admit, I was still shaken up!” 

At the mention of what happened at U.S.J, more people around them joined in on their conversation. “Tell me about it, my parents didn’t want me coming back because of that.”

A few murmured in agreement, everyone now talking about their experiences at home. “You don’t know how long it took me to convince my mom to not call the school. But if anything, I’m still surprised Midoriya is still here. He was at the core of all the attacks!” 

Said boy turns red at the mention of that. I mean, his mom was really really worried about him, so he couldn’t really say anything. Scratching the back of his neck, he could only let out a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, luckily All Might managed to come and save the day!” Excited chatter began to fill the room once again with everyone retelling each other how cool All Might was busting through the doors of U.S.J.. Ururaka jumped in as well, her voice filled with awe.

“Don’t forget how All Might even knew we were in trouble! If it weren’t for Iida speeding his way back to UA, who knows what could’ve happened!” Even more people agreed on that, some of the guys even patting the tall boy on the back. Clearing his throat, and trying to make the blush disappear off his face, Iida fixed his glasses and began talking.

“Well of course I did that, any sane person would have done it. After all it was the right thing to do, especially in our dire situation!”

“Ah there goes Iida humbling himself again!”

“Give yourself some credit dude!”

“It was still super cool how you managed to run that entire distance!”

Covering the raising blush on his face at the rapid compliments with his fist, he spoke once again, the others around him listening to his words. “It would have been more preferable if we were able to contact the school directly, help would’ve come much more quickly then.”

“Oh yeah! Too bad Kaminari couldn’t contact the school though, those villains really knew what they were doing!”

At the mention of his name, Kaminari faced Mina and gave a tight grin. “I didn’t even know that there were people who had quirks that can block out signals!” Some laughed, while others chuckled at the exasperation in the blonde boy's voice. An annoyed sigh cut through their laughter, everyone looking to the blonde spiky haired boy who interrupted their laughing fest. Just as he was about to speak, a knock was heard throughout the class, leaving the boy to grumble to himself as the door slid open.

A tall lady walked in, her straight posture already showing the students she meant business the moment they laid eyes on her. Her long, sleek black hair flowed behind her as she stepped more into the classroom, sharp eyes observing the kids in front of her. Immediately her eyes landed on a boy with narrowed red eyes, noticing he was giving her the stink eye.

Inwardly rolling her eyes at the boy's attitude, she went back to looking at the small crowd in front of her. “Hello, my name is Dr. Kumiko and-”

She was so rudely cut off by a very short boy who stood in front of her, the purple balls on her head making Kumiko furrow her eyebrows. “Are you our substitute? Wow you are gorgeous, has anyone told you that?”

As the boy continued talking, Dr Kumiko could only try and step around him in order to avoid his beady gaze. Cringing slightly, she turned her attention back to the class and watched as they curiously gazed at her. Clearing her throat sharply and loudly, that effectively shut the small boy up.

“First of all, no I am not your substitute, though I am aware you aren’t even getting one. Second of all, before you interrupted me, I was going to say I have a delivery for someone. The other hero class said I would most likely find him in here, since he was not one of their classmates.”

With that being said, murmurs erupted between students, all of them wondering what this delivery could be, that such a beautiful woman was sent to give it to one of the boys. 

Looking down at the piece of paper that was folded into an envelope, Doctor Kumiko’s eyes furrowed a little more as she tried remembering the name Y/N gave her. Uh, something like Kamayama? Kamayari? Kama- oh whatever! Straightening up, she decided that she wouldn’t attempt to damage her pride and decided to read what was written on the paper instead.

“Is there anyone who recognizes the phrase ‘electrifying baby, electrifying’? A choked cough sounded throughout the now quiet room, everyone’s eyes trailing to the blonde with a black streak in his hair. Doctor Kumiko wondered if he had dyed his hair like that.

“Uhm I recognize it?” Kaminari was too nervous to even consider how this random lady even knew him and his cousins inside joke. It became a joke when Kaminari had accidentally used his quirk when he got angry at a game both of them were playing. He went into his dumb mode and that was the first thing he said just to show Y/N he was alive. He’s still embarrassed to this day because of his slip up.

“Here you go, I was told to hand this letter to you. I’m sure you know who it is though.” Giving the teenage boy a smirk, the doctor walked closer to him, placing the piece of paper in his palms.

“Alright, since that’s all I needed to do, I’ll head off now. Don’t you give any trouble to your teacher when he arrives.” With a stern voice, Kumiko exited the classroom, sliding the door shut and leaving the students in a stunned silence.

Looking down at the smooth, neatly folded paper in his hands, Kaminari goes to open it with furrowed eyebrows, only to have it snatched from his secured hands.

“Whose this from?! A secret girlfriend we didn’t know about?!!” Inspecting the letter, Mineta’s fingers itched to open the letter himself. No way could Kaminari have a girlfriend! There were better options out there, like him for example! Cue eye roll.

“What?! No of course not dude! Just gimme the letter-” Reaching down to take back the paper, a pink hand stopped him from getting it. 

“Kaminari! There’s no need to be shy about it! You know we wouldn’t judge you, no matter how you managed to get a girl to agree to go out with you!” Mina turned around to Hagakure and Tsuyu, the pink girl’s eyes shimmering with delight!

“Wow, do you think this could be one of those romantic letters couples send to each other!” Giggling, Mina and Hagakure began to try and unravel the paper, only to be stopped by another hand delicately taking the paper away. 

“Yah! I was going to open that!” Turning around, the pink haired girl faced Aoyama, who looked at the letter with slight curious eyes.

“Did you know Paris is actually known as the city of love? I like to say I’m an expert in that station!” A deafening silence rolled throughout the class, Mina and Mineta deadpanning at what the purple eyed boy said. Quickly jumping towards him, both the students wrestled Aoyama for the letter, making a ruckus around them.

“Hey why are you- Just give me the piece of paper, it’s mine!” Soon joining their hustling, Kaminari rushed to try and retrieve the letter from who he knew was his cousin. Why do they go touching things that aren’t theirs!, Kaminari thought.

Soon, the now wrinkled paper flew away from their little cluster, floating all the way to another students desk. That student's desk being Bakugou’s. Staring hard at the paper that laid on his desk, he drew his hand near it to pick it up. Kaminari began to grow even more worried.

“H-hey Bakugou, uh could you give me my letter?” Kaminari suppressed the urge to shiver as he made eye contact with Bakugou’s piercing red eyes. His gaze then shifted to the small wisps of smoke that began appearing in the hand Bakugou clutched the letter in.

“You idiots are really screaming at each other. Because of a paper?” Adding more to his irritation and annoyance, more smoke began appearing around his hand. Now he was angry at their stupidity.

“C’mon Bakubro, don’t be like that! Just give Kaminari his letter.” Kirishima tried coaxing the angry blonde, but that only seemed to irritate him even more. Planning on just setting the damn paper on fire so his classmates would shut up about the stupid love letter, he clutched it even harder in his hand. Only to have it ripped away from him by something sticky. Glaring at the short black haired boy, Sero quickly yanked the fragile paper towards himself. 

Right now, Kaminari was panicking outwardly, rushing towards Sero to cradle the now ruined letter. His annoyance shot up quickly, sending clear glares to the four who wouldn’t give him his letter. Mina, Mineta and Aoyama looked away with guilt painting their faces, while Bakugou growled at Sero. Growled.

“Ugh look at what you guys did I- '' Taking a deep breath in, he allowed himself to cool down. They were just too curious, he told himself. Walking back to his seat, with Sero following him, he sat down and put the delicate paper on his desk. The once smooth paper was now crumbled and burnt around the edges. Resisting the urge to rub his eyes, he turned to Sero once again.

“Thanks bro.”

“No problem.” Their exchange was short, yet Sero knew Kaminari’s words were genuine. 

“Sorry about your letter Kaminari, I was just too excited thinking about you having a girlfriend.” Mina awkwardly chuckled, Mineta and Aoyama following in suit with quiet ‘yeah’s’. Giving them a small smile, he waved them off.

“I guess it’s fine. I got excited too. But I don’t have a girlfriend, this letter is from my cousin.” Nodding, she still let out a meek sorry, embarrassed that she got the whole story wrong. Mineta and his words, ugh.

Looking back to Bakugou, said boy could only let out a grunt and look away from Kaminari. Snorting, he turned his attention to the letter and began carefully unfolding the folds that had formed an envelope shape. Kaminari let a smile grace his face. She used to like making origamis. I could never have the patience to fold these kinds of stuff.

After finally opening every fold with utmost delicacy, he squinted his eyes to read what Y/N had written for him. It was hard reading due to some of the paper being burnt and blackened. He managed to read what she wrote though.

Surprise on Friday :)

Kaminari didn’t even have a second to even dwell on what that could mean, jumping slightly in his chair when he heard the door to the classroom slam open. Golden eyes widening, he quickly stuffed the paper into his bag and watched as Aizawa entered the classroom. Those who were standing quickly rushed to their seats to avoid getting called out by the fully casted and bandaged man.

Listening to his teacher’s muffled voice, he reminded himself to ask Y/N what she meant later when he got home. It was very vague, but Kaminari didn’t dwell on the fact too long. After all, he had a full and exhausting day of school ahead of him!

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Nineteen | Temmie Village (Part 1 of 2) [First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Song Referenced

+

Temmiefied Version

Alternate Chapter Title(s): Stand by Me (no duh) or The Corny One With A Song Title Reference, Part 1

• • •

The shopping district’s as busy as the roads you’ve just driven by; food courts are the most bustling with the hour your phone marks: ten minutes past noon. Contraire to her punctual self, Brenda’s running late, though you settle for waiting ten more before sending her a message. You sit by an empty booth and take the last chair available in the row to avoid disturbing those who’re already eating. Then, you pull your planner out and skip through a few pages until you find the right one. Aside from your usual schedule, you had her visiting again this Friday, a meeting with Toriel regarding some plans she wanted to discuss with you on Saturday, and another one with Sans on Sunday to arrange the second step towards homeschooling Frisk while you enrolled them somewhere else.

It’s still hard to read that last one, not for what it was, but for the fact that almost every school you’d tried to sign them up into declined having other guardians aside from you and Jerry to pick them up. They declined Toriel just as much as they declined Undyne, all due to the new rules and regulations set up in schools since the monsters’ arrival. What Toriel wanted to discuss with you was related to that, though you hadn’t been given too many details as to what it was, exactly. You glance back to your phone to see over ten minutes have passed by already, yet Brenda's nowhere to be seen. You start typing up a message, only to be interrupted by her call; the device almost slips off your hands with how abrupt it is. 

“H- Hello?” you answer, catching your breath.

She screams an accusation at you, not an ill-minded one per se, but one questioning over why you’d kept information hidden from her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re that close to him already?” she asks, words jarringly loud. You have to turn down the volume despite it not being set on speakerphone. “So he's going to help you with Frisk? That’s serious boyfriend material, honey!”

Thankfully, she sounds happy.

Still, a correction's deemed necessary.

“What do you mean, Brenda?”

“Auntie Brenda, mind you.”

You huff and bring a hand to the side of your neck, tension consuming it. “Alright, Auntie Brenda… Where are you right now? I don’t have much break time left anymore.”

“Just go ahead and eat, dear. I’ll drive over on the weekend.”

Right as you’re about to complain over her choices, she speaks up again, calmer than before.

“Or why not come over after you have lunch there?” she asks, words cooed. “You work close to him, don't you?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll stay here.” You can’t help feeling a little sour over her suggestion and with the reminder you’ve waited almost half an hour for her at the mall. With the call, it’s now thirty-five minutes past noon, giving you barely sufficient time for you to eat -- let alone listen to her rambling over how she’d misinterpreted your relationship and how Sans was better than she expected him to be. “You didn’t bother him with questions about his job, right?" you add. "He’s-”

“Why would I? He’s working an office job just like you!"

“He, what?”

You can’t avoid blurting that question out; a blank canvas replaces the image of him working at a hot dog stand. You try to imagine him working an office job, but it's near impossible to. Even if he knew plenty on various subjects, the monotonous yet fast-paced ambience of a desk job didn’t quite fit with your view of who the monster was to you.

“He works an office job, honey. Don’t you know where your own boyfriend works?” You can almost hear her shaking her head, disappointment made known through the blatant change in her voice. “Shame on you!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and stand up, too vexed to sit still. “That’s not what I meant, Bre- ...Auntie Brenda,” you say, trailing off on your words. “I just… didn’t know he worked two jobs.”

“He does?!”

You lower the volume once more, Brenda's voice taking up a speakerphone quality to it again. Her tone then grows fainter as she questions the skeleton about the legitimacy of your statement. When her voice turns louder, you figure he’s given her an answer -- one you’ve no clue of. If he had two jobs, then you’re not so sure over how she'll be reacting. And if he didn’t, then you’d inadvertently put him on the spot by letting the truth known, something that didn’t really make sense if he was supposed to be working -- or at the very least, ending his lunch break right now.

Feeling it’s going to take a while, you stand in line at one of the fast-food establishments nearest to you; a growl from your stomach reminds you time’s running out. “So what did he say?” you speak up, knowing she’s getting distracted again.

“He does!” she exclaims, almost in a cheer. “Why didn’t you tell me he was that well-off, then? You should marry him now that you’ve got the chance to.”

“Weren’t you scolding me over the opposite barely a week ago?”

“Maybe so, but that was before I knew him better, dear!”

You roll your eyes and sigh, headache worsening. “Alright, I’m hanging up now. Don’t bother him too much, and stop interrupting his-”

“Wait,” she calls, excitement still there. “Have you ever thought of learning more about monsters? There’s a bunch of workshops going on right now… And I figured you could take one, since you’re dating one and all!”

Nearly the time for you to make your order, you let your tone become sterner, hoping to get your point across. “That… That sounds good and all, but I really need to go now. My lunch break’s almost over.”

Brenda huffs. “Fine.” Her voice comes out dragged, and it’s almost possible for you to hear her pouting. “But we need to talk all about this on Friday!”

“Sure. See you then.”

“Farewell, dear!”

You hang up, slip your phone back in your pocket, and turn to the register when you’re done, right on time to make your order.

• • •

Breathe in, breathe out.

You repeat that sentence along with those actions as you clock out of work, more than ready to relax, but less than capable of with how much you've left to resolve. 

Before turning off the computer, you click on your boss's e-mail for a third time today and read it once more.

>> Come to my office as soon as you're done with your shift for the day. I'll be waiting. – Sent from my ayPhone <<

You huff and glance at the pills on your desk. Despite these being given to you by the doctor herself, you're trying not to take them as often as the instructions on the bottle tell you to. You don't want to grow dependent on them, yet -- at the same time -- it's nearly impossible for you to go by your usual routine without having the repercussions of not taking them delay your progress. The side-eyes and looks some of your co-workers offer you on occasion reveal they're not too thrilled by the idea of having someone in your state around, either. Dizziness takes over and your headache worsens; they're enough for your body to finally give in, causing you to stumble out of your desk chair and direct all gazes on you.

Breathe in, breathe out.

It's just as impossible trying to ignore everyone, and it's even more difficult trying to stand up without making a complete fool of yourself.

Breathe in, breathe-

A hand's offered out to you; you accept it, yet you refuse to look at the person until you're back to your feet.

When you do look up, you recognize who the person is in an instant. It's the same man Sans had taken a picture with the day you first met. His hair looks different, but his face and clothing style remain the same. His hand stays holding yours until you assure him you're capable of standing straight again, and even then he still has his doubts. A subtle frown shows on his visage, fueled by concern.

"Are you alright, or should I call someone?" he asks, forehead creasing. "That fall looked pretty serious."

"I'm alright," you reply, managing a smile. You're still dizzy, the headache has only grown worse, and having people still looking in your direction doesn't help much with any of that, either. Even so, having him by your side along with a few other, approachable co-workers helps with bringing you back down to earth and allows you to find some more stability before going to meet with your boss. 

"Excuse me, (L/N), but…"

You turn to the voice to see a woman -- tall, pale-skinned, and dark-haired -- offering you your phone. It takes some time, but you're able to recognize her as one of the few co-workers you spent your lunch break with before Frisk went missing. She's as professional as ever, and her formality still shows subtly through speech, yet it doesn't erase how warm and genuine her tone sounds. "Your phone broke with the fall." She pulls her hand back as soon as you have the device in your hold; her body language reveals she has a hunch in terms of just how 'alright' you really are, and what a twice-broken phone in less than a year could do to your current, physical and mental state alike. "It seems like it still works though, since it was ringing just a minute ago."

"Thank you." You turn it on to view a cracked screen. The update Alphys gave it appears to have made it more durable, based on how minor the damages are compared to the first time it fell. You're capable of unlocking it and even checking your notifications to notice you've got a few unread messages from Brenda and Frisk's school, coupled with a missed call from Sans. That last one is harder to take in. He already knew what hour you clocked out, and he had enough common sense and decency not to call you unless it was an emergency -- unlike Brenda, who didn't really know how to read the room, and Frisk's school, which called only when it was absolutely necessary. "I, uh…" You're not sure on what to do first. Brenda could be easily set aside with what she did during your lunch break, but the same couldn't be said for everything else.

Breathe in, breathe out.

You flinch at the sudden sensation of needles on your forehead and a dizziness so strong and wild, it makes your stomach far too queasy for you to manage with. Still, you combat that feeling by grabbing some gum from your belongings, taking a few, and chewing them all at once. The sharp taste and scent of mint helps wash away nausea, yet the dizziness persists.

"Do you want us to take you home, (L/N)?" the man from earlier asks, sounding more concerned than before. Meanwhile, the woman approaches you with some water, one you accept and drink as quickly as it falls in your hands. They both help sit you down on a different desk chair -- one without wheels to prevent you from falling over again. Most have left, while some stay and try to offer more aid. Your boss stands by the exit, arms crossed, stance firm, and face hard to read with how bad your symptoms have turned. "Or maybe accompany you to the bus stop, at least? You shouldn't drive in these conditions."

"It's…"

Your eyes fall on your phone again, tempted to make a decision.

With your priorities now changed to the subject of your health, you set Frisk's school aside with the knowledge they're with Toriel at this hour and forget about the meeting with your boss, aware she's already seen you from a distance. Only his name remains; truthfully, you'd rather limit how much time you spent with him, knowing what the opposite did to your heart and mind alike. You hesitate and stare blankly for a short while before you click on his missed call. One tap and two rings is all that's needed for you to reach him. It takes a second for you to answer back at him, half as much as it takes for your hand to stop shaking and for your voice to gain a better semblance of strength. It's too late to hang up now -- and his call could likely be an emergency -- so you continue forward with it.

"You don't sound too great. Everythin' okay?"

"About that…"

You share some words with him and refuse to tell him of your situation until he gives you his own reason for calling you at this hour.

"...Why did you call me?"

"It's about Frisk, but it ain't an emergency or anythin' -- it's good news, actually."

"Then why did y-"

"Listen, I don't mean to be harsh or nosy, but you sound awful right now. I can give you all the answers you need later, but could ya tell me what's wrong?"

You heave a small breath and look at the time, along with the hour of his missed call. He made it around eleven minutes past the end of your shift, so it wasn't exactly interrupting your job, but you're not sure how to interpret his call and the fact it was his first occasion calling you so close to your work schedule. Even if you were overthinking it, you didn't want to overlook anything, either. And then again, the state you're in isn't really the best for you to be questioning every little thing about your relationship with him -- at the moment, of course. "I feel sick. Kind of similar to that day at the hospital." You decide to be earnest, regardless of how dry your throat feels and how fast your heart goes. "I, well…"

"Want me to pick you up?"

Your ears turn hot while your hands do the opposite. "Y- Yeah…" Your chest tightens and your words grow faint, until you continue with, "I need your help, teddy bear."

"Teddy bear?" he asks, chuckling.

"You're calling me puddin' now, aren't you? You're a teddy bear in my eyes, then."

"I wonder why."

You smile.

"...See you in a bit?"

"'Course. I should be there in ten minutes max."

"Thank you."

With that, you say your farewells and hang up.

Now left to wait, you put your phone away, pick up the rest of your belongings, and stay with the company of your two co-workers as you make it to the exit. Your boss is still waiting next to it, yet she steps aside as do other people standing nearby, providing you with space to pass by. She says nothing, so you stop for a second, only to have her nod for you to carry on walking.

"Come to my office as soon as you recover, (L/N)."

That's the only thing she says as the door closes, leaving you with one co-worker by your left and the other by your right, both waiting in case you were to fall over again.

Breathe in, breathe out.

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Small but Important™ Q&A regarding healthcare and whether it's American-based or not

To clarify for everyone else possibly having that same doubt, based on a question made by a reader in terms of Chapter Six and Seven's events:

All healthcare/medical attention mentioned in this story is based off my country, meaning it's either free or at the very least, affordable enough that you don't have to choose between an Uber or an overpriced weewoo vehicle in case of a medical emergency.

For example: I pay only $10 for 4 different medicines I'm meant to take, 3 which are for a lifetime (example: thyroiditis), and the only thing my insurance doesn't cover is optometry, which is around $300 to $500 a year for a full exam and prescription!

Tl;dr: It isn't. There's no debt here so far, lol.

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

@paperb9gs

@merak0

[whump-it]

The Bad Thing:  Rory’s Tape Gag

Ok.  Here it is!  The Bad Thing is happeneing and Rory is starting to get whumped!  CW here for victim blaming, self blame, self hatred, whumper playing whumpees off against one another, threatening to whump a woman and a tape gag of course!

Tag time!

@haro-whumps @grizzlie70 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @iaminamoodymoodtoday @burtlederp @my-whumpy-little-heart @moose-teeth @pepperonyscience @faewhump @crowned-avery @whump-tr0pes @spookyboywhump @finder-of-rings @liliability @whumpfigure @girlwithacoolcat @tears-and-lilies @inpainandsuffering @whumppsychology

He was laughing.  It was muted by a hand to his mouth.  Knuckles against his teeth.  But he was laughing.  She didn't dare look at him.  Didn't dare make eye contact for fear that somewhere through the terror and dread, that somewhere in the horror of her emotions, the hated of him might be showing on her face.  Taking that kind of liberty would only lead to trouble. 

Beyond the basement door and blissfully, briefly unaware of the ridicule and hurt coming their way, Rory and Callum carried on talking.

***

"I miss Haz,"  Callum muttered, a slight slur to the words.  A slip at the edge.  He had shuffled over to Rory with an ease born of history despite the fact that his hands were bound behind his back.

"I know," Rory whispered.  He nearly always whispered.  Callum spoke out loud with an uninhibited volume that made Rory cringe away and want to yell at him to shut up.   To be quiet.  To tell him that their situation was precarious enough without him talking at a volume that might attract unwanted attention. 

"The last time I was in a basement I had him," Callum said, matter-of-fact.

"Alyaa had to take him back to her apartment," Rory winced as Callum tipped his head to rest his right temple against Rory's shoulder, which was still bruised from his most recent beating.  "We had to let him go so we wouldn't get hurt."

"Wouldn't get hurt," Callum muttered back, breathing in then exhaling a shaking sigh.  "I miss him.  He's soft."

"I wish I could bring him to you," Rory murmured the words with a tip of his head.  A tilt of his lips into Callum's hair right above where his brain was fighting against him.  "Cal.  We'll get back to him.  You're going to have him again I promise you.  I promise.  I know how important he is to you but if you can just hold on just... just..."  Rory breathed in shaky and unsteady and closed his eyes against the tears that always seemed to be there.  Always just on the edge of falling.  He pushed his face into Callum's curls and let them tickle at his skin.  Let them sweep across his forehead and cheek where he would feel their phantom touch long after they'd moved apart.  His bound hands unable to move the sensation. 

Next to him, Callum shifted.  He moved and tipped his head and carried on until their foreheads met. 

"Cal," Rory said, louder than he meant to, the volume unmodulated by the constriction of his throat against the fall of his tears.  "Cal I love you.  Haz is waiting for you.  He's safe.  He's safe and he's waiting for you." 

***

Ethan snorted and bent forward then breathed in and composed himself.

"Oh that's just precious," he said, his words sneered out over a laugh.  "They're going on about that stupid teddy aren't they?"  He looked at Alyaa, her head bowed and eyes fixed on the ground.  Her hair falling down past her cheek.  "I asked you a question."  The laughter had gone.  Dried up.  It hadn't been funny to begin with.

"Yes," she said quietly.  So very quietly.  "Haz is... Callum's... he's not well."

Ethan looked at her.  Looked and looked until she began to bend under the weight of his stare.  She jumped and flinched when he raised his hand, spinning a roll of heavy duty tape around his index finger.

"Hmm,"  Ethan spun the roll around and around.

"He's not..." Alyaa stopped speaking as soon as she had started.  Her throat cut off her words without her permission, the muscles tightening around the threat of tears.  Callum was ill and Rory was scared and Haz was too far away.

And Ethan had a roll of tape.

She flinched again at the sound of the bolt on the door slamming back, looking up just in time to catch the swift movement as Ethan reached out and gripped at her forearm hard enough to bruise. 

"Time to pay your favourite pair a little visit," Ethan said, pulling her arm to drag her closer.  "Well come on then.  Anyone would think you didn't want to see them."  Ethan smiled at her, cruel and cold, the twist of his lips utterly unmatched by the hatred in his eyes.

Ethan pulled her through the door and into the basement, and she was utterly unable to stop herself from looking straight at Rory.  Straight at Callum.  Glancing back and for between their faces until the weight of her guilt for not keeping them safe forced her shoulders to hunch.  Her gaze to lower. 

Callum looked shattered.  Completely and entirely worn out.  Yet despite that, when he saw her, when he saw Ethan, he had mouthed the word "master".  He had bowed his head.  Across his face, she saw the flash of emotions and memories that had taken only seconds but that she had enough knowledge of to recognise.  He wanted atonement.  He wanted perfection.  He was too ill to know if he was ashamed or not anymore.

Rory looked furious.  And scared.  And he looked at her and Ethan equally before tipping his head back down to touch temples with Callum.  The utter horror that he was protecting Callum from her felt like a shard of ice settling through her core.

"Sounds like someone's missing his little teddy bear," Ethan said, smiling that smile again.  The one that never reached his eyes.  Alyaa could hear Rory's breathing pick up, his teeth clenched as he breathed heavily and just a little too fast through his nose.  She could see his jaw working and she had no idea whether she wanted him to speak or to stay silent.  Each option had the potential to harm all of them.  It was just a question of which of them would pay the highest price.

"Wow," Ethan said, cold sarcasm threading through the word.   "You look really cross.   Really cross."   He drew the words out, stretching them out on a rack of scorn and humiliation, deliberately designed to make Rory more and more furious.

Alyaa could see Rory's breathing speed up in the rise and fall of his chest.  In the flare of his nostrils.  Her mind overlapped on itself on two words.  Speak.  Hush. 

"Damn right I'm cross," Rory said.  Alyaa closed her eyes.  “Where do you get off thinking that any of what you’re doing here is ok?  What the fuck is the matter with you, you sick freak!?  Callum is not well.  He should’ve been in the hospital days ago.  He needs an operation.  You’re hurting him.  You’re going to hurt him.”

"I'm not going to hurt him," Ethan said with a cruel laugh.  "Have you seen him!?  I mean come on.  Look at him.  Why would I hurt that?"  Rory glared back.  "Oh I'm sorry.  Did I speak in a foreign language?  Are you too stupid to understand?"  Alyaa saw Callum's flinch at the word stupid.  He mouthed it silently, eyes downcast.

"I said "look at him"."

"I'm looking," Rory said slowly and quietly.  "At you.  And I don't like what I'm seeing."

Alyaa dared to open her eyes but kept her head down.  Her shoulders up.  She jumped when Ethan ripped a long strip of tape off the roll, biting it off with his teeth and holding it up in front of her face while he pointed at Rory with his free hand.

“That one needs to stop talking don’t you think?”

She held her breath.  The room seemed to buzz with the oppressive silence that followed the statement and the tearing of tape.  She couldn’t move.  She couldn’t make herself touch the tape.  She braved a quick look at Rory beyond the tape dangling in front of her and he looked terrified.  He didn’t have his hands to use, tied up behind him.  He was trapped in a basement and he was about to have his voice taken from him.  He looked like he was fighting to stay upright, fighting against his body that wanted to curl up, and fighting against crying. 

“Well my sweet little nightbird,” Ethan said.  “You have a choice.  Either you take this piece of tape and shut him up,” he jerked the piece of tape a couple of times in front of her. “Or I can shut you up.  You choose.”

“Me,” Alyaa said, quickly.  The need to protect pushed forward in her mind.  Rory and Callum should bein the hospital right now while Callum recovered from surgery.  They shouldn’t be tied up in a basement and she was all too aware that if they had stayed away from her then this would never have happened.  She should have kept them at arms length instead of pulling them down to be damaged along with her. “You...if you want...want...to shut someone up then shut me...shut me up Ethan.”

On the floor in front of her, a sob broke free from Rory, quickly followed by Callum looking over at him, horrified and shushing him in the presence of the person that he believed to be his Master.

“Don’t even, for one moment, think that you can tell me what I want,” Ethan spat the words at her, and she cowered under their weight, shaking.  Trembling.  “Tape his mouth and then, as you’re so keen, I’ll shut you up too.”

“No!  Please Ethan, please.”  Alyaa forced the words out even as they shook with the forced of her body’s shaking.  “Please just me...just...just me.  They didn’t...they...they’ll be quiet,  I promise.  Please Ethan.  Please!”

“Hmm...you see, as much as I enjoy listening to all of this?  It’s boring me now.  Taope his mouth shut.  Don’t argue with me.  Do.  It.”

Alyaa gasped out on the air that she didn’t realise she had been holding.  As she reached with a shaking hand to take the piece of tape she heard Rory starting to plead with her.  Small, whispered out, begging little no’s and pleases.  He was shaking his head.  Saying her name, interspersing it with his begging.  It felt like a physical attack upon her.  It hurt to hear it.  It made her want hinm to stop and she had the means to do that in her hand.  It made Ethan into the winner.  It made her into the villain. 

She wanted to be sick.

“I’m sorry Rory,” she whispered as she knelt in front of him.  “S...sorry.  I’ll be gentle  I’m so sorry.”  As she took the tape in both hands and raised it, she almost choked on the feeling in her gut when Rory mouthed “please don’t” at her, the words silent, the terror stripping him of his voice as much as the tape did when she pressed it to his lips.

His tears fell as she stood back up. 

[guqin-and-flute]

Jin Guangyao supervises a-Fu and a-Ling's first sleepover while Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue are night-hunting

[Well, this was SUPPOSED to be just fluffy, but that’s a little hard inside of JGY’s head]

A-Fu bounded his way into the room and flung himself into Jin Guangyao’s arms with such force that it nearly knocked him over. “Oof--my child, please--” he chuckled as he caught him and A-Fu rubbed his face all over the embroidered Sparks Amidst Snow peony on the front of his robes, likely wiping his snot off on it. His clothes were still cold and damp from their flight.

“We--” A-Fu reared his head back, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. “Are gonna stay up all night!”

A-Yuan appeared to have stayed behind by Lan Xichen’s side, because the pair made their entrance at a more measured pace as Lan Xichen reminded, patiently, “While the rules of Carp Tower may be different than Cloud Recesses, staying up all night is not good for you.” 

Rather shyly, A-Yuan bowed in greeting to Jin Guangyao and he nodded back, smiling down at the boy. It had always been vaguely amusing to him that A-Yuan had more patience and decorum than A-Fu, who was born a Lan. One had to wonder if it was the influence of the slightly more rowdy Nie Clan exposure or simply innate. “Seeing how I am the one watching you and I cannot stay up all night, I’m going to have to disagree with you, Fufu,” Jin Guangyao slotted his gentle negation right alongside Lan Xichen’s and braced for the inevitable pout.

Instead, he received a sunny smile. “Oh, okay, then you’ll just go to bed at the Lan time and we’ll stay up to help the sun rise!”

A-Yuan was looking between the adults with a rather furtive smile, as if trying to silently communicate that he did not, in fact, condone this plan and would not like to be a part of the repercussions. Jin Guangyao grinned and hefted A-Fu over to his side to brace him on his hip, his back beginning to complain. “Ah, what a creative set of ears you have, Fufu--we say ‘you’re not staying up all night’, and yet they hear ‘you’re allowed to stay up until sunrise’! Truly remarkable.”

Quite dramatically, A-Fu sighed and smushed his hands up onto Jin Guangyao’s face, smearing his cheeks around. “Dieeee, don’t be a party pooper, it’s our first Jin sleepover with all of us!”

Gently, Jin Guangyao shook his face free of his cold fingered grasp and turned toward Lan Xichen to receive the kiss to his forehead. Despite A-Fu beginning to wiggle, he leaned into it, let himself inhale the scent of ozone-sky, clean wind, and sandalwood that clung to his robes and hair. The habitual tension torqued at his core loosened, like a sigh. “Easy trip? You’re not too tired after carrying them both, are you?”

Lan Xichen chuckled, slid to kiss his temple. “I’m fine, A-Yao. I’m sorry again for the short notice--Wangji is off on his own night hunt and this cannot wait.”

Shaking his head, Jin Guangyao smiled. “It’s no trouble. A-Ling is very excited.”

“And you?”

“Also very excited--ah!” A-Fu made a lunge off of his hip, not being content to simply wiggle his displeasure at being kept from pelting about and Jin Guangyao had to stoop to catch him before he hit his head on the ground. “A-Fu!” The boy froze, guiltily, and let himself be lowered down to his feet. Jin Guangyao crouched down and straightened his robes and headband with little tugs to lessen the sting of his scolding, brushing his hair back over his shoulder. “Patience is valuable. You’ll hurt yourself that way.”

As soon as no more admonishments came, A-Fu brightened immediately. “You wouldn’t drop me. A-Yuan!! Let’s go find A-Ling!”

Darting away, he seized A-Yuan’s wrist and dragged him out and down the hall, already excitedly chattering about the plans of the night as Lan Xichen chuckled and shook his head, winding an arm about Jin Guangyao’s waist when he rose. “Good luck. He couldn’t keep still the entire trip and told me the same thing when I reminded him that dropping from my arms in the sky was a bad idea.”

“Aiya,” he shook his head and, since they were alone, turned inside his embrace and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’m sure it will be fine,” he murmured against him. “But you will be careful, yes?”

“Mm,” Lan Xichen tilted his head, pressed a firmer, more complete kiss against his lips, slipping his arms fully around him before pulling back to smile down at him. “I always am. Da-ge will be with me.”

With practiced ease, he swept aside the tangle of anxiety, old hurt, regret, and darker things the mention of Nie Mingjue bubbled inside his gut and smiled back. “Of course.”

The boys were already fighting by the time Jin Guangyao found them in Jin Ling’s toy room down the hall--something about the colors of toy swords--but quieted down fairly quickly when he mildly suggested that perhaps they wouldn’t need more sugar after dinner because they were already so lively. Eating went well, as both A-Ling and A-Fu were too busy inhaling food like they were starving and A-Yuan was making like a good Lan child and not talking during meals. He contented himself watching them dart around afterward, announcing in grandiose little voices the various heroes they were and what monsters they were battling. Without direct adult interference, A-Yuan grew a little more vibrant and playful, and though he never reached the same volume of the other 2, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Soon, Jin Guangyao faded into the background for them like so much furniture. He smiled as he watched them play. It was funny how sometimes it worked on children as well as adults. 

That is, until A-Ling twisted around like he suddenly realized something. “Hey, you’re a hero of the Sunshot Campaign, right, shushu?”

Jin Guangyao blinked and smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as to say all that.” Modesty was a good trait to teach your children. In any case, his father would certainly agree with his hedging and Madam Jin would certainly take exception if her grandson began calling such a bastard a hero in her presence. “Most people of my generation were a part of the Sunshot Campaign. Why do you ask, A-Ling?”

“Well, you just seem so normal.”

Jin Guangyao did not let the slightly darker, wry humor he felt coil in his chest bleed into his perfectly reasonable smile. “I’m pleased that you think so.”

“But heroes aren’t normal, though, they’re heroes,” A-Fu seemed to understand whatever A-Ling was failing to adequately explain. “They aren’t moms and dads and stuff.”

“What should they be instead, then, A-Fu? Simply stories?”

His son squinted his eyes at him, like he was solving a particularly difficult equation and looked over at A-Yuan and back. “But...you didn’t have...like...sleepovers and things, right?”

Jin Guangyao was silent for a moment, keeping his expression perfectly balanced. There had never been another child to whisper the night away with. No adult in the corner to watch him play. Nights were not a time for fun. “No, A-Fu, I didn’t. But plenty of others have.”

A-Fu cocked his head. “Why not?”

Jin Guangyao smiled. “Why don’t we see if the cook has any sweet buns leftover? I know she baked them fresh this morning.”

After the hunt and acquisition of their prize and after the children had licked their hands clean, A-Fu looked up at him with a few crumbles of sugar stuck to the tip of his nose and said, “You can be part of the sleepover if you want, though, die, ‘cause this is our first one all together too!”

Heart pinching, flooding with warmth, he reached out and brushed the little crystals off with his thumb, tilting his head. “So thoughtful, xiao-Fu. I wouldn’t want to spoil your fun.”

“You’re fun, die! Right, A-Yuan?”

With a shy smile, A-Yuan nodded. “I liked when you taught us about the plants in the woods, that one time.”

The time in question had been more than 2 years ago when they were quite a bit younger, not too many months after the boy had recovered fully from his illness to be well enough to leave the Hanshi where he was staying with Lan Xichen and A-Yuan for extended periods of time. Even as A-Fu screwed up his face in confusion, the strange buzz of realization that he lived in the minds of these children in ways he did not control rushed through Jin Guangyao. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know this, cognitively or as if this wasn’t true of everyone, but...when they were small and unsteady on their feet, still learning the ways of the world and the words for things, one forgot to consider them people on the way to becoming themselves. Recording and collecting moments that were inconsequential to their grown ups. When he considered his own childhood, there wasn’t a boy who lived there, but himself, as he ever was, reflected back through time, the story written and unyielding. He had never felt particularly like a child.

And yet, here was a boy who remembered him fondly from an insignificant walk from some recordless day for pointing out a few edible plants along a path. 

He found himself wondering if his mother had ever been taken out of her own head for a moment, watching him watch her, not knowing the picture she painted across his memory. For good or for ill. 

Always good.

He blinked back to himself and made sure to smile at A-Yuan. “I’m glad.”

“I don’t remember that,” A-Fu complained just as A-Ling said, “I didn’t get that! Shushu, tell me about plants!” 

That startled a genuine laugh out of Jin Guangyao and he knelt down. “I’m no expert, but in the morning, what if I took you all out to the gardens and told you about some of the plants that we have growing here in Carp Tower? Would you boys like that?”

The answering, competitively loud yells of YES from both A-Fu and A-Ling had him wincing but A-Yuan’s eager nod made him smile. 

There was whining and stalling at bedtime, misuse of soap, and a hastily declared armistice of a mutinous pillow fight because there are lanterns in here, A-Ling, you know better, but, finally, they were tucked in, 3 dark little heads on the pillow with the blanket pulled up to their chins. “Are we going to greet the sun?” Jin Guangyao asked with knowing patience, kneeling beside their bed, leaning with his elbow in his own nightclothes.

“Nooo?” A-Fu widened his eyes, as if his own father didn’t know when he was trying to be innocent.

Smoothing a palm over his forehead, bare of its headband, Jin Guangyao raised his eyebrows. “What happens if I find you trying to stay up to greet the sun, A-Fu?”

“Youuuu...join us!”

Jin Guangyao blinked slowly, smile still fixed on his face. A-Fu sighed grumpily. “I probably have to clean dishes for a month or something.”

“Or something,” he agreed. “I’ll leave it up to your blue father.”

A-Ling snickered as A-Fu stiffened. “Nooo, don’t tell him!”

“Then I will advise you, Fufu, to not do it at all,” he replied indulgently, stroking his thumb between his eyebrows.

Tucked in the middle so the other two didn’t fight, A-Yuan piped up, saying, “I won’t let them, bo-fu.”

When A-Yuan gave him a smile, he felt his own soften without his say so--but here, with uncalculating eyes and sleepy shadows, he supposed that was alright. He reached over and patted A-Yuan’s round cheek, resisting the illogical parentally-encoded impulse to pinch them. “Thank you, A-Yuan.” Then, he reached farther to do the same for A-Ling. “Goodnight, boys. Sleep well.”

As Jin Guangyao rose and moved to the door, A-Fu chirped, “Love you.” He paused as the other 2 echoed the same words, like A-Fu had reminded them of an important ritual. 

Drawing in a deep breath around his suddenly tight throat, he turned back and smiled. “Love you, too.”

[incoherentbabblings]

Tim gets himself turned into a cat for a week and is forced to stay at Stephanie's until the spell wears off on its own. Honestly, it's not as traumatic as it sounds. For Tim.

“I refuse to take responsibility,” Damian said. He was holding a glossy short haired black cat with a long face and sharp features. It had big bat ears and lovely big blue eyes whose pupils dilated when Stephanie looked at it. Damian held it out for Stephanie to take, lower legs dangling from a slim body. Its tail whipped from side to side, irritated.

Apparently, it was Tim after one ill-informed altercation with that magician villain who the Teen Titans and the Flash fought occasionally.

Stephanie smiled tightly to the point where Damian thought she was in physical pain.

“Do you want to come in? Have a cup of cocoa maybe?”

“Not even slightly. I have a litter box and some compostable wood pellets for litter,”

Oh my God –

“and father insisted that someone within Gotham care for him until this passes whilst he is off planet. Zatanna says it will end on its own in a week and is less likely to end in permanent brain damage than trying to reverse it artificially. More brain damage than Drake already –”

“Yes, Damian, I get it.” Stephanie sighed, pouting as she inspected Tim, still patiently dangling in Damian’s outstretched arms. “Do you understand us Tim?”

The cat – Tim – yowled in a way which sounded partly like a Siamese cat and partly like an car engine struggling to start, but Damian shook his head.

“No. His brain has shrunk to the size of a peanut. Apparently, he will remember nothing, which is good, all things considered.”

Stephanie frowned, then leaned down directly into the cats eyeline.

“Would you rather stay with me over Damian?” she asked it, regardless. “I guess it makes sense, mom is visiting Florida for the week…” she mused out loud, feeling supremely stupid.

Tim yowled again, and his pupils impossibly grew bigger.

Groaning, Stephanie conceded. “Fine, but –” wasting no time, Damian practically tossed the cat into her arms. She caught Tim clumsily, and he meowed in distress, scrambling up to cling to her shoulders.

“Ow, ow, ow! Claws. Claws, Tim ow!”

She held him tight under his little bum, and as she watched Damian run back to the Alfred chauffeured car for the bits and pieces she would need. Stephanie turned, leaving the front door open, and went upstairs to her room. Tim clung to her tightly, little claws making an imprint in her skin. When she reached her bed she leaned forward, letting him turn on his own and land on his feet in the centre of the mattress. He plopped down, sitting perfectly straight with his tail still swishing, and watched her as she proceeded to help Damian move all the pieces of kit inside. She placed the litter tray in the bathroom, wondering briefly about those YouTube videos she’d seen of cats using the toilet could be applicable. She sighed as she sat the plastic tray down, wiggling little wood pellets a couple of inches deep. Tim had come over to join her in the door frame. He looked up at her, and she looked down at him.

“Tim, I’m going to be scooping up your poo and pee. You better give me a big boon when this all over.”

Tim mewled, and to Stephanie it sounded like a bargain had been struck. Damian handed her a plastic bag filled with cat food – whatever Pennyworth did not wish to eat he explained – then left her to it.

“Do not let him go outside.”

“Yes, Damian.”

His round cheeks puffed up, and the bridge of his nose turned red like it did when he was embarrassed.

“Thank you, Stephanie.”

Somewhat mollified, Stephanie said he was welcome and then Damian and Alfred were gone. Shutting the front door, she turned around to see Tim sitting on the stairs, watching her.

Stephanie jumped, unnerved.

“How much of your peanut sized brain is like… at human level smartness?” she asked.

Tim sat quietly for a moment, watching her with those unnatural icy blue eyes. His tail, disproportionately long, smacked against the floor with a heavy thump.

“None then. Well, still, let me know when you want feeding. Or bathroom breaks so I can clean it up before it stinks out the house. I have to work on college. So… go take a nap or something. You probably need one.”

Tim blinked, stepped down the stairs, went through to the living room, sat on her sofa, and rested his head down. Like the cat he was, he was soon asleep in the late afternoon sun.

Stephanie followed him curiously, peered over the back of the couch, admiring his glossy coat then shook her limbs loose.

Just another day in the life, she told herself.

Having her ex-boyfriend slash transmogrified cat living with her for a week. Sure. Cats were distant creatures, and so were her and Tim in recent years. They could get through this week, surely.

Oddly, having another creature in the house made her feel more lonely.

 *****

 Tim had enough self-awareness to realise he was in fact a cat, but also not enough self-awareness to realise that there were certain behaviours he should not indulge in.

Nobody believed him that he could understand what was being said, so he decided to just go with the flow for the next six days. Abdicate all responsibility. Be feral. Receive the occasional pat on the head. All in good fun. Bizarrely, he was enjoying the drama of it all.

The first issue came about at dinner. He had woken from his nap with a hunger that he had never in his eighteen years (did that make him around two years old in cat years?) of life felt before. It was as if he had not eaten in weeks he was starving he was voracious he –

Needed help in opening tin cans.

Dammit.

Honestly, Tim would have been feeling much more humiliated and more willing to jump out of a window to end it all if he was not so sure that he would instinctively land on his feet.

Just a week. And Stephanie would take care of him, loathe as he was to admit it. She would find it uncomfortable and painful with each interaction, so he would take great care in staying out of her way. Things were awkward enough between them without the knowledge that she was going to have to brush him and feed him and clean up his poops and hairballs (he loathed how easily the concept of grooming came to him). He didn’t need to inflict anymore grief on her than she had already reluctantly accepted.

None of this stopped him from being very hungry when he woke up. He needed food. Preferably ten minutes ago.

He leapt down with a solid thud from Stephanie’s sofa, shaking his head to clear any remaining nap time fuzziness, then plodded upstairs. To his own ears, it sounded very cheery.

She had left her bedroom door slightly ajar, and Tim slid in. She did not hear him enter on account of her having a giant pair of red headphones blasting music at far too loud a volume to be good for her hearing. Or rather, he assumed they were red. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that his vision had been altered. Shades of red and green blended together in assorted shades of yellow and brown, and even the blues of the world was washed out and pale. Everything had a slight blur to it, especially for objects further away. When he had first been held up to Stephanie, he realised that the blue of her eyes now seemed almost grey, and her skin was sickly. Of this change, Tim hated the most.

She was leaning over piles of notes, hands stained with highlighter and pen ink. Tim noted her expression and found he did not like it.

She looked very sad.

He meowed to try and get her attention, but with her music playing as loud as it was, she did not hear him. Drastic measures were needed. He would soon be dead from starvation before too long.

He slinked up to the side of her chair, noting the convenient space between her lap, chest and desk. He looked up at her, yowling one more time to try and give her warning, but she did not notice.

Tim blinked slowly. Her eyes were wet.

He leapt up onto her lap, fully expecting her to shriek, to lift and throw him across the room reflexively. However, she just gasped gently, surprise quickly fading, and laughed. Good. The wet look in her eyes vanished with genuine joy. She paused her music, clumsily taking off the headphones and setting them on the desk. She adjusted her lap so Tim could sit more steadily and rested her hands at the base of his back and tail, scratching absentmindedly. He chittered at her and she raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“What?” she whispered conspiratorially. Oh, she was enjoying this. Tim grumbled, body vibrating, then hopped up another level onto her desk. With a purposeful tap, he smacked her wrist.

“What is it you little goblin?”

Rude. Tim yowled, and paced back and forth. Stephanie huffed, reaching to pick him up and put him down. When she turned, she saw her alarm clock on her bedside table. It was six o’clock.

“The time?” Her eyes widened with realisation. “Oh? Dinner time?”

His loud, drawn out meow made her wince, but she nodded all the same. “Alright then sir, come on. Let’s see what we can do for you.”

He merrily leapt down from her arms, jogging away down the stairs to the kitchen. Jumping up on the counter, he pawed insistently at the food still in the plastic bags Damian had brought. Food. He needed food. He was wasting away; why couldn’t she see…

“Right, what did Damian gift us with… Oh. Biscuits huh?”

Tim froze. Cat food. He was going to have to eat cat food.

He was a cat. But not that much. He was finding it difficult enough to imagine going in that litter box in not too long. He quietly made a little meow, distressed.

Stephanie opened the bag, and the smell of dry crunchy biscuits filled the air. Tim visibly gagged, and Stephanie quickly resealed the container.

“Yeah, I agree there Timbo. I can’t give you the wet food either, that jelly is disgusting... but your stomach can’t handle human stuff. You’re a carnivore now bud.”

She hemmed and hawed, opening assorted cupboards, looking for something suitable. Tim meowed mournfully. He was going to starve unless he ate the biscuits, but he so did not want to eat the biscuits.

“Oh!” Stephanie chirped, pulling a tin down. She held it up to him for inspection. “Tuna in spring water. That’ll do, right? But how much…”

Tim paced frantically back and forth as she googled portion sizes. Starving, starving, he was skin and bones, no chance for recovery. It had been eight hours since he last ate, how did she expect him to –

She placed a shallow dish in front of him, half of the can placed sweetly in front of him. She then placed down a small glass bowl, filled with fresh water. Uncaring of his dignity, he began to eat voraciously.

Stephanie leaned on the counter, watching him do so.

“I’m sorry there’s no milk. I heard cats are actually lactose intolerant, so just water for you this week.”

Tim ignored her, so delighted with the taste of fresh tuna that the lack of milk was so far down his list of priorities. It was only when Stephanie, in an apparent act of madness, reached down and ran a hand from his temple all the way along his back to the tip of his tail did he look up. Somewhere in the back of his little kitty brain, he noted that his muscles had tensed up, rising to the pressure of her hand as it made its way down his spine to make the contact firmer. Her hand was warm. He looked up from his feast, confused.

She was still smiling, but it looked melancholy to Tim.

“I don’t think you can actually understand me,” she said quietly, half speaking to herself. “Which is pretty expected for us. I think it’s just the fact that you’re a vocal kitty who isn’t going to remember anything in six days’ time. Which is just as well. I can tell you all my secrets then?”

Tim wanted to protest her falsehoods but found the taste of tuna too distracting.

Stephanie continued, “I’m going to go on patrol now. There’s been a monster of a case I’m getting nowhere with. I’m having another go tonight. Don’t sleep on my bed when I’m away okay?”

Tim wanted very much to yowl, to let her know that he could understand, and to ask her why she was being so mopey. It seemed more than just a sadness over his situation. He wanted to explain that, honestly, he was fine with it. Well, not fine. But he had endured much worse. He knew it was temporary, he knew things would return to normal soon, and he was warm, looked after and almost looking forward to a week’s peace.

So what if he was a slightly goofy looking black cat who had the sudden urge to lick himself clean every few minutes? In the grand scheme of trauma he had undergone in his short life, shitting in a box was pretty low on the list.

He tried to tell her it was fine, only to drop tuna all over the counter. In a fumbled attempt to clean up after himself, he licked the surface clean. Stephanie groaned, then rose away from him.

“Enjoy the evening Tim. Don’t bother me when I get back. Don’t puke anywhere.”

Tim, in fact, did not puke that night. He did use the litter box however and hated it. He tried very hard to make as little mess as possible, ensuring all the litter stayed within the box. He was here because of Stephanie’s good nature; he was not about to blow it.

He did, at around 3am, however, experience what he had heard Selina refer to as ‘the zoomies’. It was a frantic pent-up energy that he did not know how to expel. The only way that came to mind was to dash across the house in a desperate attempt to tire himself out so he could return to sleep. So, he ran, up and down the stairs, leaping off the banisters and hopping over chairs and coffee tables. He did so, bored out of his mind, until he saw the lights of her vehicle pull up. He ran up the stairs in time for Batgirl to crawl through her window. He sat patiently in her doorway, waiting for the right moment to greet her, when he saw she collapsed to the floor with a distinctive and heartrending cry of pain. His little heart pounded painfully at the sound, but he did not move.

He watched as she cursed up a storm, correcting her position so she could take off her costume piece by piece. She did so wincing, crying out, and swearing with each painful movement. If she had someone to help her, she would have been able to get ready for bed in much less agony. Whatever she had dealt with this night, it had been rough.

She crawled around on the floor, apparently unable to walk now that the adrenaline had worn off. She remained in her shorts and sports bra, and without showering, crawled into bed. Tim watched as she reached into her bedside table, pulled out two painkillers, and like a baby, swallowed them with some water from a sports bottle that stood nearby.

He thought he heard her very quietly cry to herself, but that couldn’t be. Stephanie did not cry. His hearing had been different since the transformation last night, sounds and noises did not compute the way they used to. The sound she was making very quickly stopped though, and instead Tim heard her very determinedly whisper to herself,

“Always better in the morning.”

It wasn’t a philosophy he completely agreed with. Sometimes the morning just brought clarity of the previous day’s horror. But her odd breathing stopped, and soon it was replaced with the deep gentle snoring of someone sleeping. Finally, Tim moved. He wanted to curl up next to her. Stephanie was warm, and he had discovered recently that he liked warm places. He wanted her hand to stroke him again.

But no. She had said to stay off her bed for sleeping. She has asked him not to bother her. She certainly would not be happy to find him sleeping next to her. Tim tried to remind himself that he was only getting away with certain behaviours because of his size, and there were some boundaries that he should not cross. What if she woke up in the morning, only to find that the spell had worn off early, and there was a naked human Tim Drake in her bed?

Oh no. That would be very embarrassing.

Besides, he didn’t have that kind of relationship with her anymore. He didn’t have the right anymore to insert himself into her space. They had decided not to pursue it. Not good for her, she’d said.

Tim could no longer remember his own reason. He suspected it was moot after she had become Batgirl.

And yet… she’d been crying. Tim wanted to help her. How could that not be good? Surely if he could provide comfort, if he wanted to provide comfort, she would allow it?

He turned away, not liking the way it felt like turning away from someone calling for help and returned to the living room sofa. He curled into a ball, and slept until the morning, whereupon the hunger pains hit him once more.

And so, a routine began. Tim would yowl like he was dying outside Stephanie’s door, reluctant to intrude whilst she slept. Eventually, Stephanie would emerge, ready to feed him chicken or another half a tin of tuna. He was not so secretly delighted at the way her eyes lit up with humour when she saw him, spinning in circles unable to contain his excitement, though Tim would note locations of bruises that had not been there the night before. She was struggling, it seemed.

She would then go take a shower, clean out his litter tray with a pithy comment, then go to class, leaving Tim bored until she would return after four, ready to clean his litter tray once more, provide dinner, then spend a couple of hours doing homework before leaving again for patrol. She would return at first light, looking more defeated with each passing sunrise. She would be smiling come the morning, but ��� even with a brain the size of a monkey nut – Tim saw it was shallow.

It did not escape Tim’s notice that she was going out of her way to avoid him. He understood it. She did the same thing when he was human. He would call for her help from time to time with a case, which she gave without reservation, just as she had done now for kitty him, but rarely, if ever, did she call for his aid.

Her stubborn independent streak had not abated with time it seemed, even when it came at the price of her safety.

That and she just seemed sadder than usual. Or was this usual, and he was just never around and allowed to view it?

His tiny mind whirled and churned, and with no outlet, he stewed, glaring out the window at passer-by’s and their dogs.

Regardless, on the fifth night, after hearing her stilted heart-rending sobs and half-hearted and self-inflicted words of comfort, he decided to break the one boundary she had set.

He jumped up onto the bed, moving until he had clambered on her sternum, then folded down into a loaf position. Stephanie tensed, unsure what game he was playing, until she felt him begin to purr.

She laughed brokenly, more of a whimper than a genuine expression of joy and reached up to scratch behind his ears.

Tim purred louder, to her delight.

“I’m having a bit of a rough time,” she spoke quietly in the dark, as if reluctant to break the thick, dark blanket of warmth and comfort. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to be a burden.”

Tim gave a small ripple of a meow in response. She was not a burden.

“I can’t get a crack on this case,” she explained. “I make a dent, get hurt in a fight and am fine in the morning, but then so are they. I’ve hit a wall. But I have to do it alone. Bruce and Babs expect me to now… I have to…”

Her voice broke and she cut herself off. She smiled crookedly, painfully trying to dispel her sadness. Tim began to make biscuits. He didn’t understand why, but he thought the pressure would help. She was a little furnace beneath him, and he purred loudly, drowning out her shaky breathing.

Stephanie chuckled at the sensation of his little vibrating chest. She ran a hand down his back again, enjoying the smooth coat. Contradictorily once more her eyes became wet.

“Do you think, when you are back to normal, we could talk? There’s…there’s no-one else who would understand. Though I think I’d make Cass sad if I told her that. But I miss you. And I think it’s my fault.”

Tim shifted upwards, until his nose rested under her chin. He continued to purr loudly, nearly trilling with the force of it. Steph nuzzled in close and kissed his forehead and flicked his large ears.

“Silly boy. I hope you don’t remember this. You’d hate me for it.”

Tim meowed grouchily. How she could lie to herself like that…

They’d burned their bridge long ago. He knew this. And him being a cat for a week was not going to mend it. But it made his heart ache like nothing else to see her despondent. He silently promised himself that he would extend an olive branch before the end of next week. They couldn’t continue like this, tip toeing around each other with Tim occasionally stepping too close and making Steph flinch back away.

She wasn’t flinching away now though.

She picked him up so she could sleep better and set him on the pillow next to her. Turning on her side, she reached up and placed a soft, warm hand on his shoulders, rhythmically petting the fur there.

Her quiet sniffles died off, Tim’s purring acting as a lullaby, and she fell asleep before the sun rose.

Throughout the night he shifted closer, until he was practically resting on her head. He rested his chin on the crown of her head, her long golden hair acting like a silken pillow, and kept guard for the rest of the night.

 *****

 Stephanie awoke to her nose being licked. She opened her eyes blearily, and realised it was Tim cat. She blushed, remembering what had transpired last night. She told herself it was fine, opening up like that. It was only a cat. It was only Tim. Tim, who would be blissfully ignorant come the evening. Though that reminded her, she better lay out some clothes for him. Her mother was coming back at some point in the next forty-eight hours. The idea of her walking in on a naked Tim would cause a conniption.

She smooched Tim’s head, and he meowed cheerily at the wet smack, and continued to press up against her.

She had kept her distance at first, struggling to reconcile Tim with the little sleek gremlin cat meowing at her feet. It felt weird, so she – for a lack of a better term – ignored him. He would be so angry when he changed back, she wanted to avoid anything which he could extrapolate from the week as her being mocking or patronising.

Bruce’s anger she had learned to ignore, Tim’s she hadn’t figured out a knack for yet. It hurt, in a physical manner that she could not explain. Like he was kicking her in the gut again. She found herself actively taking steps now to avoid it. Avoid the concept of it.

But she was exhausted, physically, and emotionally. Years ago, when she would reach such a state, Tim would somehow figure it out and slink in through her window or take her on a quiet date. The two would hold on to each other, and let Stephanie catch her breath and perspective with a warm pillar of support behind her.  

Despite Tim now being a cat, it seemed he still had this perception, and had sought her out to give comfort. Weird how animals could sense those sorts of things.

Fuck it, she thought. It was the last day, she was feeling miserable, and there was a perfectly cuddly vibrating fluff ball in her arms, who showed no signs of irritation and instead was offering comfort that she didn’t get much of in recent years. She was going to milk this for all it was worth. Maybe she could take some photos and videos later – humiliate or blackmail Tim later. All in good fun, of course. She never wanted to genuinely upset him.

She continued to give him sweet pecks on his head back and sides, which she thought he liked, as he meowed and headbutted her.

“Sweetie,” she praised, and she picked him up to cradle him properly. He flipped over, being held like a baby, as she continued to croon, “Last day as a kitty. Tomorrow you won’t remember a thing, and we won’t be able to talk like I am now… isn’t that sad? I think we should spoil you today. Lap of luxury and all that. It’ll keep my brain busy, if nothing else.”

He pawed at her chin, and she kissed his toe beans.

She spent an embarrassingly long amount of the day starfished on the floor, playing with Tim. He was a chatty little cat, more so than he ever was as a person. His meows sounded like a revving engine and were as long as he could hold his breath. He was graceful though, despite his lanky limbs and giant ears. He leapt from surface to surface and straight into her arms with seemingly no effort, and whenever she let him roll out of her embrace, he landed neatly on his feet every single time.

Stephanie couldn’t help it, but when she pulled out a little laser from her Batgirl belt, she recorded Tim’s feral delight, chasing a speck of red across the house. She laughed more than she had in a long while, partly because it had been so long since she had seen anything so unabashedly goofy as Tim as a cat, shaking his little bum, pupils dilated larger than dinner plates, in preparation to jump a red point of light.

It was delightful and made her wonder if she could convince Crystal to adopt a cat once she returned. Poor Tim, he’d have no clue what he’d endured come the morning, but at least in that moment, he seemed happy.

When it reached eight pm, Stephanie sighed, realising she had another night of patrol to face. Selfishly, she wanted to linger, to keep company with the cat, but she quickly shook that thought off. People needed her. She wanted her case over and done with.

“One last go,” she whispered. “I can do it tonight. I’m nearly there.”

Tim hopped up onto her lap and she was sliding on her gloves. She chuckled lightly and scratched under his chin. He purred, craning his neck to allow her better access.

“I’ll lay your human clothes out for you on my bed, okay? If it’s not fixed by the time I’m back… I’ll put you in your boxers and jeans and hopefully come morning…” She got up, hoisting Tim to rest on her shoulders, and tugged one of the plastic bags Damian had left for her. To her growing dismay, she realised there was only a pair of underpants. She looked sideways, Tim peering over her left shoulder. “Oh dear, Tim. Damian really is out to get you, huh?”

He chuffed, like he was grumbling to himself. She pecked him once more, and he meowed more firmly, hopping off her shoulders as she made her way to rummage through her wardrobe.

“I don’t want my mom to come back and find you in your undies in my room and me being AWOL. That would just be one step too much for her, I think. I still have some baggy sweatshirts…pants though… pants…”

She tossed clothes haphazardly, at one point burying Tim under a pile of bras and underpants that she shrieked at, loudly and joyously, when she realised what she had done. Eventually she found a pair of jeggings which she hoped would suffice. Tim looked almost suspicious. If he had eyebrows, they would have been raised.

“You have skinny legs,” Stephanie justified, feeling insane talking to the cat. “It’s fine. Just until the morning. I’ll drive you back and no-one will see your shame. Not even Damian. We’ll sneak. Promise.”

She carefully laid out the clothes, and shoved what she had carelessly tossed out her closet back in with equal zeal. Pecking Tim once more on the head, she moved the litter box into her bedroom and shut the door.

“I can’t have mom coming back to a half naked boy in my living room and a box of used kitty litter. You’ll have to stay in here. Hopefully, I’ll be back before she is. She said she’ll drive the whole way and not stop. So, maybe by seven in the morning? Fingers crossed.”

She opened up the windowsill, slinking her leg over. Tim hopped up on her desk, as if to follow her out.

“Uh-uh,” she warned, pressing on his wet nose firmly. “You have to wait here. Damian made me promise you’d stay inside. I can’t risk losing you.”

She caught herself speaking more desperately than she intended and shuddered. “You know what I mean. Naked boy CEO found running through the streets of Gotham is not the kind of attention the family needs right now. Be good, Tim. And thank you. You cheered me up so much today.”

One more kiss, then she was out the window, sliding it definitively shut. As she mounted the bike, Tim perched himself at the windowsill, watching her shoot off down the street.

When she was out of sight, he jumped down and paced endlessly, stressed and worried. She had been struggling so much with patrol, and he was unable to help her. Feeling utterly helpless, he jumped up onto her bed and settled on her main pillow. Curling up into a ball, he settled in to wait, praying that she would return home safely, and before Crystal arrived back.

He awoke, briefly, when he felt a soft pair of hands lifting him up. He chirped and chuffed, and it was Stephanie hushing him. She wrapped him up in his boxers and sat him next to her under the covers.

She was smiling, albeit a tired smile.

“I did it,” she whispered, scratching his ears. “Tim, I did it.”

Tim meowed a congratulatory chitter, and Stephanie smiled wider.

“Sleep now. I’ll explain more in the morning.”

In an act which utterly took Tim off guard, she pulled him closer, curling around him in a crescent moon shape. Under the covers in the dark, surrounded by her scent and soft breath, Tim began to purr once more.

 *****

 “Steph? Steph…”

Stephanie grumbled, then opened her eyes when cold fingertips pressed against her cheek. Looking at him with an expression Tim could not decipher (relief? Disappointment? Fright?) Stephanie inspected Tim up and down. He had put on his boxers and her sweatshirt but had yet to touch her trousers. Nevermind. He was kneeling on the floor next to her bed. According to her clock, it was just after six in the morning.

Right, Tim needed context.

“I suppose you are very confused right now… Being in my room in your undies… so let me explain—”

She yawned then, arms emerging from her duvet to stretch dramatically. Tim watched the muscles in her neck, then chuckled to himself.

“No, Steph. I remember.”

“Oop.” She froze, watching him anxiously, like an antelope faced with a lion. “Everything?”

“Everything.” He then snorted defiantly, “despite what Damian insisted, I was still me. Shockingly, he is not omnipotent.”

Chewing her tongue, Stephanie narrowed her eyes, not having it at all.

“Oh c’mon, you are lying out your butt.”

“Am not.”

“Are too! There’s no way you’d lower yourself to chasing my laser pen across my living room. Oh gosh, Tim, it must have been horrible…”

Tim shrugged, making a noncommittal noise.

“Maybe I wanted to catch that point of light, huh?” he teased. He then conceded, “Maybe I had a bit of trouble keeping cat me and human me straight in my head.”

“Yeah, that I believe.”

“But honestly, having a week where my biggest concern was whether I was getting tuna or chicken for my next meal was sort of refreshing.”

“I can find a way to turn you back if you like.”

“Hmm. Pass.”

Stephanie giggled, but cut off abruptly when Tim shuffled closer. She felt herself grow cross eyed as she watched him move in so intimately. Tim’s warm breath blew over her as he continued,

“Yeah well, having said that… You mentioned that I helped you. Cheered you up.”

Tim’s teasing look softened, and in that moment looked at Stephanie with such unabashed and unfiltered affection that she felt incredibly self-conscious. Tim was only in his boxers and her sweatshirt, and she was only in a baggy nightgown that she had tossed on when she had arrived home; the first time in weeks she had been uninjured enough to change her clothes.

“Maybe,” Tim continued, “I wanted to see you smile. You were so sad all this week… I needed to help you. Even if it was as dumb as chin scratches – as good as they felt – and chasing lasers. I… I heard you crying, Steph.”

Her arms came down from their stretch, and rested on his shoulders, fingers gently stroking back and forth.

“I’m okay,” she promised, like she was the one comforting him.

Tim’s eyebrows furrowed. “I could have helped you before now.”

There was no chiding in his tone, only pleading, but it made Stephanie feel guilty, nonetheless.

“I had to do it alone.”

“No, no you didn’t. You don’t have to be alone for anything.”

“You’re such a big softie.”

Tim laughed gently, “With you, sure.” Taking a deep breath, he moved even closer until he was practically leaning over her, tips of their noses touching. “Steph… I need to ask you something.”

Stephanie nodded, eyes growing damp. “Shoot,” she whispered, voice cracking and betraying the nonchalant words.

“Could we –”

Crystal opened Stephanie’s bedroom door, and the pair froze. Instinctively, Stephanie raised an arm with a shocked cry, slamming Tim in the face. He wheezed and shot up into standing, which only proved to give Crystal a good view of him in his underwear and daughter’s clothes. Looking somewhat dazed and yet unsurprised, she looked to Stephanie for whatever lie of an excuse her daughter could conjure up.

“Mommy!” Steph cried out. “I did not hear you get back. How was Florida?”

“I was being quiet since it was still early,” Crystal grumbled, unamused by Stephanie’s glib tone. “But then I heard talking.”

Crystal glared at Tim, who fidgeted, finding no dignity in any pose he maintained. Stephanie scrambled upwards so she was sitting, thankfully she had managed to put on pyjamas last night, and clambered for some excuse, any excuse.

“Tim was… It’s not… ”

Seeing her daughter fail to come up with some vaguely plausible non incriminating reasoning, Crystal turned to Tim, glaring holes through his head. He would crack in a way that Stephanie would not.

“Why are you here, Tim?” she demanded.

“I… I…” Tim began to shiver with nerves, face flushed red and eyes bright with panic.

“Where are your pants?”

Tim choked on air. “…I don’t have any. With me.”

“And no shirt either?”

Tim very much wished the ground would swallow him up.

“No.”

Stephanie groaned, throwing herself face down into her pillow. “Good job, Tim.”

“It’s the truth, Stephanie!”

Crystal’s fingers twitched on the door handle, and Stephanie could see one of her pressure headaches building, like a throbbing in her mother’s temple.

“You know what – just leave Tim. And we won’t discuss it again.”

Tim would take that and run. At least this time he wasn’t being chased out of a house with a shotgun like Ariana’s uncle had done.

“Sure. Sure. Can… Steph. Can I borrow your phone?”

“So someone can come pick you up?” Crystal snorted. “What? Don’t you have shoes either?”

Tim realised if Crystal had her way he would have been forced to run back to the manor. Death at this point really would have been preferable. Weakly, he just stated, “No, Mrs. Brown.”

Stephanie spoke at her mother and into her pillow, unable to look the embarrassing situation in the eye.

“Mom, please. The guy’s dignity has already been shot. Please don’t make him walk back to Wayne Manor in his tidey-wideys. I can give you a lift Tim, I said I would.”

“No, no,” Crystal insisted. “I’m sure you’ve done enough Stephanie.”

Stephanie shrieked, muffled but distressed. Dramatically, with exaggerated movements, she removed her phone form under her pillow and unlocked it without looking, then tossed it up the air. Tim scrambled to catch it, then dialled for the manor. Crystal stood aside, indicating it was time for Tim to leave the room. He looked back to Stephanie, still buried in her bed sheets. It was a look of desperation on his features that made Crystal feel almost guilty for separating the pair, but honestly, she did not trust her daughter, and she did not trust Tim, however soft spoken he may have been.

When Tim exited the room, Crystal shut the door with a definitive slam behind him. Turning back to Stephanie, she saw her daughter’s shoulders shaking with quiet crying. This only served to befuddle Crystal more, but before she could say or do anything else, a shallow container on the floor by her daughter’s desk caught her eye.

“Is that a litter tray?” she asked, confusion reaching fever pitch.

Stephanie raised her head to stare at her mother, eyes wet and pout overwhelmingly sad.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth.”

 *****

 “Alfred washed it. Got rid of all the cat hairs.”

Tim held up the blue sweater for Stephanie to take on her doorstep. She took it reverently and inhaled deep. Alfred always used an excess of fabric conditioner that made clothes smell lush. Tim, for his part, looked apologetic.

“I’m sorry you got drawn into all of that. I’m sorry I made you and your mom fall out.”

Stephanie said nothing, keeping Tim on the doorstep as she set down the sweatshirt. When she looked back to Tim, closing the front door behind her, she was struck by the thought that he seemed much younger than eighteen. He was scuffing his feet on the concrete, hands behind his back, like a bashful child.

“It was all because I was careless with Abra Kadabra and it bit me in the butt and Damian didn’t want to have to deal with me so he burdened you with it. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t a burden,” she replied quietly. “I liked it. The last day.”

“Oh,” Tim blushed, looking anywhere but in her eye. “Me too. For what it’s worth. Honestly, it was actually really nice. Relatively. In context. You know. In a not creepy way.”

“It must have been a bit weird. Like, don’t pretend it wasn’t. All that chicken and tuna you ate for one thing…”

Tim chuckled to himself, finding something very funny.

“Yeah my digestion has been wild the past week and... too much information. Sorry.”

Stephanie tried to catch his eye, but Tim kept his head stubbornly down. His feet must have been very interesting.

“You… you were going to ask me something, before my mom walked in,” she pushed.

He coughed, choking on nothing but his nerves.

“Was I?”

“Tim.” She reached out and took his hand. Tim flinched, then relaxed and finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye. She smiled, beautifully, always beautifully, and he squeezed her fingers.

“I’m sorry if it took me being turned into a cat to actually ask.”

“That’s okay. It happens for people like us. In a way I think it puts things into perspective. So, please ask.”

“You…” 

He stared at her, admiring her, before finding words couldn’t do the job well enough. Instead, he leaned forward, meeting Stephanie who was also moving closer, and the two kissed on Stephanie’s front doorstep. She broke away with such a delighted laugh that Tim chuckled himself.

“Ask me,” she insisted.

Tim shook his head and kissed her again. Falling back against her front door, the two made out for a moment too long before Stephanie regained her senses. She pushed him back, laughing louder and more hysterically.

“Tim! No! You need to ask!”

Another kiss, this time accompanied by him picking her up and swinging her in a circle. Finally, Stephanie gave up and held him tight. Tim made a noise that she could only describe as a chirp of delight in response.

“You’re a little gremlin,” she muttered into his mouth. “Cat or otherwise.”

[voidselfshipp]

Meet The Family

Cw: self depriciation, food ment.

Ok to rb.

Summary: the iida family wants to meet the partner of their youngest kid, but said partner is not ready for It.

Song: "just the two of us " Bill withers and grover Washington.

Jerico paced around the room with her hands behind her back, mina stops her grabbing her shoulders-- its gonna be fine!-- adds the student.

--But what if they dont like me?! What if they want him to date someone else?

Uraraka softly pats her Friends back-- dont worry ! Theyll love you! Theyll see that youre a perfect match for their son!

-- but just-- I got nothing to wear! What if they go formal and I just-- jeri sits on her bed clutching a pillow-- what if I have nothing to wear!

They hear a soft knock before anyone can answer-- jerico? Is everything alright in there? Midoriya told me that youre not feeling well..-- said iida.

-- coming!-- she says opening the door peeking her head through it-- tenya...babe..I think we should cancel...-- she says looking away sighing-- I dont think im the right one to meet your family-- she said leaning on the doorframe crossing her arms.

-- whyd you say that jerico? Youre perfect!

--Im not! First of all im from another country!-- she says with tears in her eyes looking away-- im so loud I cant control my volume, I have nothing to wear and to top it all off I dont even get the same grades as you do --She looks at him and sniffs drying her tears with her sleeve-- I think we should call it off

Tenya hugs her tightly and buries his head on her hair-- please dont say that...-- he says with a strained tone-- youre perfect jerico, my family wont care if youre not from here-- he cups her cheek with a flushed face-- youre funny, Smart, youre absolutely beautiful-- he cups her other cheek squishing them-- grades dont define you, you, me or anyone! Grades are just numbers, they are a grading system, but outside? They dont matter-- he adds lowering his hands to her jaw caressing her cheekbones with his thumbs.-- its going to be fine, but I wont accept you talking yourself down--he puts a strand of hair behind her ear-- its okay if youre loud because I love you this way-- he kisses her softly and after some seconds he pulls away-- I wont let my family talk bad about you, in fact they know the best of you!-- he says hapilly-- howd you saved me with stain, howd you won against me in the festival, they see you as I see you, for the amazing woman you are

The silence is short before jerico sobs even harder hugging him-- youre so sweet!

He hugs her tightly with a soft smile, bending down a little-- I wont let anyone be mean to you, theyll deal with me first

She dries off her tears and presses a kiss to his cheek-- thank you

Tenyas cheek turn red, and he fixes his tie, before he says anything his reciproburst goes haywire and he runs past her mumbling nonsense. Making her laugh.

-- anyways... I gotta go now, midnight said shed take me to see some stuff to we-- she turns around to her Friends finding her in tears too.

-- you two are so sweet! -- adds mina.

-- so cute!-- adds uraraka.

Jiro nodds -- so cute!

She chuckled and grabbed her jacket-- gotta go!

As she walks with midnight and recovery girl, who decided to join them to go outfit hunting her teacher softy elbows her-- we'll find you something nice to wear! Youll see!

Jeri scratches the back of her neck knowing what midnight could get up to.

They searched all the stores they could and the dinner was fast approaching.

Jerico is feeling anxious now, recovery girl softly pats her back-- we can try there!-- she points at a suit store.

Midnight nodds-- yes, that could work!

Jeri trusting her teachers judgment follows them.

Iida Is tapping his foot waiting for jerico at the entrance of the UA. He looks around.

--where is she?-- he mutters scratching tbe back of his neck. He was fine with arriving late. His family wouldnt mind.

--Sorry! We couldnt find anything!!-- jerico comes in his field of view, his breath is taken away when he sees her in a suit, her hair tied up.

--oh...-- he mutters and both uraraka and midoriya hold him back, jiro and mina roll up his pants so recirpoburst doesnt rip them.

Jerico giggles and hugs him-- lets go yeah?

Tenya nodds and fixes his pants saying goodbye and getting in the car.

As they drive he hugs her tightly-- you look so beautiful -- he says caressing her arm.

--If I could help you pull out your tubes I can do this!

--Come on it wasnt that hard!

She raises a brow.

[....]

Even though tenya was ready to make such change he was an absolute baby.

--come on ten!-- she said.

--Its gonna hurt jerico!

-- thats why im here, come on

He sighs pulling out the first tube, Before he can scream she sits on his lap and kisses him.

He turns red and hugs her waist with one hand.

-- see? Not that hard!

He starts to giggle meekly-- well..if I get a kiss for each one...ill get twelve kisses

-- let me desinfect that for you

[....]

-- as I was saying, not that hard!-- tenya protested-- besides! ...oh hey we're here

He gets out first and helps her, he takes her hand, and walk into their home.

Taking off their shoes they walk in and are greeted with iidas mom, dad and his brother.

--tensei!--says iida hugging his brother-- I cant Belive youre here!

The ex hero smiles-- I I couldnt pass up the opportunity to meet my brothers partner, hi, im tensei

Jerico nodds-- im jerico, nice to met you tensei-- she bows.

Dinner arrives and as they eat, jerico is struggling with the chopsticks..

She scratches the back of her neck and tenya just hands her a fork and a Knife.

-- th thanks-- she adds embarassed eating her food.

-- dont be embarassed!!-- says tenyas mom-- he told us you arent fully used to chopsticks so we put a set for you!

Tenya also pulls out a fork and a Knife smiling.

Her cheeks turn Pink and she smiles softly eating with a content giggle.

--so-- starts tenyas dad-- our son has told us plenty about you but id rather hear about you from your own mouth

Jerico drinks water and looks at her father in law-- well, im originally from Argentina!, Im the oldest from four kids-- she says-- Im more into art than anything, I also play the guitar, what else would you like to know mr. Iida

Tenyas dad smiles-- well, I can only say that my son scored a winner

Jericos cheek flush red and tenya chokes on his drink blushing red-- dAD!

After dinner jeri helps pick up the table and wash the dishes.

--youre a very lovely girl, but I must ask-- says tenyas mother-- who confessed first?

Sighing in relief that it was only a simple question and not a "whats your intentions with my son" question she giggled-- I did

Tenya flushes even redder than before and grabs jerico walking outside saying --GOODBYE!

his family laughs, and tensei says something before they leave.-- jerico, take care of him for me-- he says patting her arm-- and please show him how to relax

She laughs hugging tensei-- I Will, dont worry!

She says her goodbyes and both go back to the UA.

jerico crashes ontop of tenya both in their comfy pjs.

He hugs her waist pulling her closer and smiling.

-- my family really loved you back there-- he says leaving down the formality.

--im glad--she answers-- maybe one day youll meet mine!

Tenya smiles-- dyou think theyll like me?

She nodds and holds his hand-- im sure theyll do

He smiles and kisses her forehead.

As they fall asleep, tenya humms "just the two of us "by Grover Washington.

《I see the crystal raindrops fall

And the beauty of it all

Is when the sun comes shining through

To make those rainbows in my mind

When I think of you sometime

And I wanna spend some time with you

Just the two of us

We can make it if we try

Just the two of us

(Just the two of us)

Just the two of us

Building castles in the sky

Just the two of us

You and I

We look for love, no time for tears

Wasted water's all that is

And it don't make no flowers grow

Good things might come to those who wait

Not for those who wait too late

We gotta go for all we know ...

Just the two of us

We can make it if we try

Just the two of us

(Just the two of us)

Just the two of us

Building them castles in the sky

Just the two of us

You and I 》

[kpopblurbs]

9:04am

Pairing: Jae/Reader Word Count: 1.9k Tags: Mentions of Religion, Hand Jobs, First Time, Public Hand Jobs, Sub!Jae, Dom!Reader, Gender Neutral Reader A/N: So I’m finally finally effectively done with smutmas, ill be finishing the last one tomorrow at the latest so ill be posting for smutmas every day for the next four days Smutmas Masterlist AO3 Link

It wasn’t often that you went to church, not that you weren’t into it, you just weren’t nearly as devoted as most people, opting instead to spend your Sunday mornings sleeping. Recently, however, you had discovered a new motivation to attend, the cute boy you had met a few months ago was currently inspiring you to go every week.

You had seen him for the first time 6 months ago on a spur of the moment trip to the church, he had focused on you a lot during the service, always averting his eyes when you looked at him. He had piqued your interest then but it was only the next month when you caught him staring at you after the service that you decided to approach him. You had introduced yourself to him, he had told you his name was Park Jaehyung but that everyone just called him Jae. He had followed that up by asking whether you were new to the church or not, to which you explained your position, not missing the slight frown that flashed across his face before he hid it quickly. The two of you had shared some awkward small talk for a few minutes before parting ways though there was something about him that intrigued you enough to keep you coming back the next week.

From then on the two of you fell into a routine, one that was slowly entering more flirty territory, mostly prompted by you though Jae was not unreceptive to it. You could tell by the way he would react to your suggestive statements that he had zero experience in the flirting department. His innocence was a big part of what drew you to him, you were always weak to boys like that, the idea of corrupting them was so tempting it was near impossible to resist.

After the service one Sunday you dragged him with you on a walk around the church, stopping him in one of the few areas where there was no one around. You took his hands in yours and moved so that your back was up against the wall of the church, bringing Jae with you and pulling him closer. You could see that he was nervous so you began to rub the back of his hand with your thumb soothingly. “You can say no if you want to,” you started, biting back a smirk at the way he struggled to maintain eye contact. “But would you like to kiss me?” you asked.

“I-I uhm, I haven’t...” Jae started, trailing off at the end as he looked down shyly.

You resisted the urge to coo at him, not wanting to embarrass him too much, “That’s okay,” you said softly, “My question still stands.”

He paused for a second, thinking hard before taking a deep breath and looking up at you, “C-can I?” he asked.

You smiled and nodded, tilting your head and leaning in close enough that he could feel your breath on his lips. You waited for him to close the gap, sighing happily when he did after a few moments. The kiss was messy on his end as he tried his best to follow the rhythm you were setting, you kept it slow just allowing him to adjust to the new experience. You brought one hand up to the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair and smiling into the kiss when he seemed to gain enough confidence to take a small step forward, his body now pressed to yours. You stayed like that for a few minutes, giving him the chance to improve his technique before gently tugging on his hair to pull his head away. The two of you were breathless, a goofy smile spread across his face which you returned with one of your own. 

After that you fell into a routine, attending church to meet up with Jae and then dragging him around to the back of the church to make out. It was going well until he started cutting your makeout sessions short, pulling away quickly in the middle of it, his cheeks were red and he was unable to look up at you. He would stutter out some excuse about having to go home but you could tell by his body language that he was getting hard.

After two weeks of that you decided to take things further, following your normal routine up until the point where Jae pulled away. You grabbed his arm gently making him look up at you with a shocked expression on his face. “You know I can help you with your problem,” you said, sending a quick glance down to his crotch before going back to making eye contact with him.

“W-What problem?” Jae asked, letting out a fake chuckle to pretend he had no idea what you were talking about.

“Did you want me to say it out loud or would that just make you run away from embarrassment?” you asked a hint of humor in your voice.

Jae sighed, looking down once again, “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said softly.

You chuckled, “A sweet, innocent boy like you couldn’t make me uncomfortable if you tried,” you said with a smile. “Plus it’s a perfectly natural reaction, one that I can absolutely give you a hand with,” you winked for emphasis.

You could see the confusion on his face as he tried to process what you were offering so you continued, “Feel free to say no, there is absolutely no pressure here but I’d really like to take care of you if you’ll let me.”

“I-I,” Jae paused to collect his thoughts, “We’re at church,” he said at a near whisper, looking around to make sure the two of you were still alone.

“Doesn’t that make it hotter, though?” you smirked, lowering your voice to match his hushed tone.

Jae gulped, his cheeks turning pink and you could tell he was imagining what you were offering. “B-But...” he trailed off, still clearly lost in thought.

“I’ll let you think about it then, we’ll see how you feel next week,” you said, giving his arm a gentle, reassuring squeeze before starting to step away.

That seemed to shake him from his thoughts as he only let you take a couple steps before calling out to you, “Wait!” he said, a little louder than he expected causing him to jump and look around once again. You turned back around to face him and he took a deep breath before speaking, “I want to say yes.. I’m just nervous,” he confessed.

You smiled, stepping back over to him, “It’s okay to be nervous, if you want me to take care of you I will,” you said.

Jae took a deep breath before speaking, “Yes, please,” he said as confidently as he could.

You nodded, the smile still on your face, “Of course,” you said, reaching forward with both hands to hook your fingers into his belt loops and tugging him closer to you. He squeaked at your sudden boldness as you reached one hand up to tangle into his hair, tugging him down into another kiss. Without disconnecting the kiss you maneuvered him around to press his back against the wall. You pulled your hand out of his hair and moved both of your hands to the front of his pants, making quick work of unbuttoning them and nudging them down slightly.

You felt him tense up as you pushed your hand into his pants and wrapped your hand around his dick. You paused, breaking off the kiss to look at him, “You alright?” you asked.

“Y-Yeah I’m just, it ah, feels different when its not my hand,” he responded.

You smirked, your hand shifting to swipe your thumb over the head of his dick, collecting the precum that was already collecting at the tip. “Good different or...?” you asked, leaning forward to suck gently on the sensitive spot behind his ear and relishing in the stuttered moan he let out.

“G-Good... very good,” he responded, letting out a gasp as you began to stroke him slowly. His hips twitched as you began to stroke him faster, the little noises he was making started to increase in volume forcing you to reconnect the kiss to keep him from getting too loud. He put his hands on your hips, gripping tightly to the fabric of your shirt as he bucked his hips into your hand. You swallowed his moans greedily and tried to slow down your strokes, knowing that he wasn’t going to last very long if you didn’t give him a break. You knew that given the situation you weren’t able to take as much time as you would’ve liked but you still wanted to take as much time as you could. You shifted your hand around to rub your palm in circles over the head of his dick, his hips bucking more aggressively in response.

He pulled away from the kiss, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder, letting out little gasps as his body tensed rhythmically. You used your free hand to run your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp gently and sending a shiver down his spine. “I’m -ah- please I’m gonna...” he gasped out and you moved your hand back to stroking him while your other continued to massage his scalp.

“Go ahead, baby, cum for me,” you said at barely above a whisper. It only took a couple more strokes before he was cumming with a low groan, his hips bucking as he spilled his load into his jeans. You worked him through his orgasm while he clung to you, his grip tight until he relaxed, leaning most of his weight on you as he came down from his high.

You pulled your hand out of his pants and tried to balance his weight, doing your best to support him as you shrugged off your jacket to wipe the mess off onto the fabric before bundling it up and dropping it to the ground. Once his breathing returned to normal he stood up straight, reached down to adjust and button up his pants and grimaced at the feeling of the mess he had made, “I feel gross,” he murmured.

You chuckled, “Maybe we should get you home so you can change,” you said softly.

“Yeah that’s a good idea,” he said, stopping to think for a second before continuing, “Would you, uh, would you wanna come with me?” he asked hopefully.

You smiled, “Well I drove here so I can’t ride with you but gimme your address and I’ll meet you there,” you responded.

A goofy smile spread across his face, “Great!” he said before coughing once and clearing his throat to try and disguise his excitement, “I mean, uh, cool yeah, and maybe I could, uhm, I dunno, return the favor?” he suggested.

You giggled, “I would like that very much.”

“Cool, yes, great, uhm, shall we?” he asked, nodding his head in the direction of the parking lot.

“Lead the way,” you said with a smile, letting out another giggle as he grimaced as he took his first step. You followed him as he shuffled awkwardly towards the parking lot reaching forward to lace your fingers with his and smiling when you felt him squeeze your hand.