#it's a story about two boys messily growing up

[not-poignant]

Are Sebastian and Alex going to learn about bdsm and safe practices/negotiation? Or do they keep fumbling around and doing what they're doing?

Hi anon,

People who learn about BDSM don't necessarily practice safe practices or negotiation.

And there are elements of negotiation in this story! It's not a black and white 'they're not doing this in a paint-by-numbers sort of way and therefore it doesn't count' situation, y'know?

They are two characters in their mid-20s who live in a tiny town, one of those characters is dyslexic to the point that he can barely read, and the other's method of doing things has worked for him all his life (or so he thinks), they don't have any reason/s to learn about BDSM, and it's not likely that either of them ever will.

That also doesn't mean that they can't enjoy their kinky sex life.

There has been a lot of discussion already, and there will be more and more going forwards. It might not be at the level most people want, but Sebastian has certainly obtained consent (more than once), offered and then insisted on debriefs and post-sex discussion, explained to Alex how to communicate if he hates something, and made it clear that what he likes is unusual and sadistic in nature. It's also clear that Alex likes being pushed, i.e. - not being forced to give consent in every circumstance when someone can take control and give him what he wants anyway. That's actually pretty common in some people with a child abuse background who become people pleasers.

If you want negotiation + safe practices at a certain level, you'd have to completely remake Alex's character into someone who can magically be a functional, communicative, healthy human being, and he's not that. Alex is getting better at communicating (that's how we go this far in the story in the first place), but if you expect this story to end on Alex being a perfect human who can do Instagram-level kink negotiation, then no, this isn't the story you want, anon.

If you look deeper and don't expect cookie cutter kinds of dialogue, there has been ongoing negotiation in the story since the early chapters. When Alex makes it clear through physical response and then verbal that he doesn't like yelling, Sebastian stops yelling. When Sebastian makes it clear that he has complicated feelings about hiring his ex-school bully as a cleaner, Alex makes it clear that he doesn't share those complicated feelings, especially in light of the pay rate. Sebastian consenting to Alex being his cleaner makes it clear that those terms are acceptable to him.

When Alex tries to undervalue himself, Sebastian makes it clear that he's not comfortable paying someone less simply because they value themselves less. When Alex then takes that pay, it's a form of consent to Sebastian's attitudes. Their relationship has been an ongoing negotiation since the beginning, and that's how they've grown closer. If you're used to only looking for very obvious signs of negotiation, it might be easy to miss the non-verbal and subtle forms of negotiation that are happening.

For example, it might not seem like it, but Sebastian - many chapters ago now - talking about how he likes control in the bedroom and that turning Alex on long before they'd ever shared anything sexual together, is a form of communication. Alex learns he likes the idea of it without it ever been forced on him, and Sebastian wouldn't have that conversation with someone he didn't trust (for example, Alex in the beginning of the story). They had to have trust to have that conversation, Alex had to have trust to ask Sebastian questions about it in the oblique way he did, and they had to share a common comfortability have a conversation in that direction in the first place.

In A Stain that Won't Dissolve, these things don't look like a psychologist's version of: 'Okay, what do you want, and this is what I want, and here's where we meet in the middle' - a lot of life doesn't look like this (but if you want that, I've written that in Falling Falling Stars - it still has dubious consent though, lol). Both Alex and Sebastian have poor communication on their side, and it's a growth story for the two of them.

But no, I have no intention of Sebastian ever learning terms like 'subspace' or 'RACK' or anything like that. A lot of people in the world, especially prior to easy access to the internet, figured this stuff out on their own and many of them made it work even without the rigid or codified structures of the world of BDSM (and some of those people went on to invent the world of BDSM that we take for granted today).

It's the kinks that make you kinky, not the knowledge of an acronym or the world it engenders.

There's also no reason to think that Sebastian has access to a healthy education about BDSM there, it's not like Elliott was practicing much healthy BDSM in my other Stardew fic, The Wind that Cuts the Night, :D Elliott knew all about safe practices, negotiation, and BDSM, and chose to ignore a lot of the safe stuff over messing around more dangerously.

The fumbling around is the point, basically. Growing up is messy, and dubious consent is hot (for some of us), and there are many ways we communicate with the people around us, especially when it's two guys in a town the valourises machismo and stoicism over emotional openness, and one of those guys was beaten by his father over not being macho and strong enough which makes him exceptionally resistant to communicating clearly even about basic subjects and needs.

That's the part I actually really love about this story.

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 8

We have finally got to the part that started this whole story. Steve being validated by a professional.

Robin gets a pretty dress. And Eddie gets a little jealous.

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

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED!!!!

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Eddie joined them at the shop just as they were finishing up. Will used the extra ten he had to buy Steve a pretty little dagger that was mostly a letter opener, but Steve fell in love with it.

The dagger was silver with a moon in the hilt, the cross guard had moonstones on either side. It was nestled in a black velvet box that he was told he had to leave the dagger in and not pull it out while at the fair.

Steve promised he wouldn’t and turned around to nearly run right into Eddie.

“Whoa!” Eddie said, putting out his hands to steady Steve. “I didn’t realize I was that close to you.”

Steve blushed. “You get your schedule sorted for tomorrow?”

Eddie grinned. “Sure did, sweet thing. Will get his staff?”

“I don’t think I’ve seen anyone so happy,” Steve said with a smile. He jutted his thumb behind him to where Will was happily chatting with the seller.

Eddie peered around Steve to see where he was pointing and sure enough, Will was talking to the guy about magical users in DND and how they should expand it to include other types.

Will spotted Eddie and said goodbye to the seller. He rushed over to where Steve and he were talking.

He held out the staff for Eddie to look at. “What do you think?”

Eddie and Steve shared a fond smile. “It looks great. Will the Wise has finally got a staff worthy of him.”

Will blushed.

“We should put it in Eddie’s van,” Steve suggested, “so it doesn’t get stolen.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Why my van?”

“Because it won’t fit in my car,” he replied with a blush staining his cheeks and creeping up his ears.

Eddie cackled. “Fair enough, Stevie!” He looked around and spotted Gareth with an arm full of all sorts of wares, from swords and armor, to decorative goblets and boxes that no doubt held jewelry.

“Hey Gare!” he said following an ear piercing whistle.

The younger man lit up and jogged over to the trio.

“Hey, Ed!” Gareth said with a shit eating grin. “You like my haul?”

Eddie shook his head. “Sometimes I think your parents have more money than sense, but I’m not about to begrudge a well plotted haul.”

Gareth grinned. “Oh, they absolutely have more money than sense. I just know how to use that to my advantage.”

Will and Steve laughed with them.

Eddie pulled out his keys. “Since you’re clearly in need to be relieved of your loot or grow three extra arms, you should take Will to stash your stuff for later.”

Will’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s a great idea!”

Steve just shook his head fondly as he watched the two boys walk off chatting about their prizes.

“It’s nice to see Will come out of his shell around new people,” he said to Eddie. “He really needs friends outside of the Party.”

Eddie nodded. “And it helps that I forced them to be read in with Wayne because there was no way I was going to keep a secret that big with the people who are my family.”

They began their stroll through the other stalls, stopping here and there.

Steve spotted a clothing shop and armory and he sided eyed it longingly. There was no way he would the money for anything in that shop. He chewed his bottom lip and was about to move along, when Eddie grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward a black leather cloak.

Steve was admiring the construction when he heard a voice behind him say, “That’s a neat tunic, but you do know that you’re supposed to wear a chain shirt under that specific kind, right?”

Steve turned around to see a buxom red head in a bodice and flowing red dress. Her hair was piled messily on her head, but Steve could tell it was artfully done as the structure seemed too sound to be accidental.

“Can’t afford the see the armorer,” he said with a wink and a half shrug.

She laughed. “I guess I deserved that.”

Eddie smirked.

“I like your tunic,” the red head said, looking Steve up and down. Eddie bristled next to him. “Where did you get it from?”

Steve grinned, placing a comforting hand on Eddie’s elbow. “I made it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “No shit. Really?”

“Yes, he did,” Eddie defended. “He’s amazing.”

Steve flushed with pleasure at his praise. “I dabble. I’ve been sewing for about a decade now.”

She walked up to him and admired the stitching on the hem on the tunic. “That’s really impressive.”

“Thanks, I was admiring your work on the construction of the cloak here,” Steve said. “Was it hand sewn?”

“Fuck no!” she said, rolling her eyes. “I wouldn’t have time to breathe if I did that.” She smiled to have him join in on her joke. But when Steve continued looking at her in awe. “Wait...” she said, as it slowly dawned on her. “You did all of this by hand?”

She brought the hem of his tunic up to her face. Steve blushed and Eddie batted her hand away.

“Oi! Don’t get fresh!”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I think a name would be a good start before you go and get grabby,” he growled.

“Oh!” she said slapping her forehead. “Right, sorry! I’m Katie. I run Damsel in this Dress. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Steve and this is Eddie,” Steve said.

Eddie looked only slightly mollified and Steve rubbed his lower back soothingly. Eddie preened, leaning into the touch.

Steve cleared his throat. “But anyways, yeah I stitched it all by hand. My parents didn’t think a boy should ‘play’ with a sewing machine.” He put play in air quotes.

Katie’s eyes went wide and she looked back at the tunic hem in her hand. “But it’s so tight and even...”

Eddie grinned. “Isn’t he amazing?”

She looked over at him. “He do yours too?”

Steve shook his head. “No, not his.” He spotted Robin walking by. “But I see someone else’s outfit I worked on.”

“Robin!” he called out.

His soulmate came to a...well stop wouldn’t be quiet accurate as she kept in motion, flailing around a bit trying to regain her balance from her aborted step.

“Steve!” she called back and hurried over to him.

Katie looked her up and down. “You did her costume too?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow at Steve.

Robin grinned. “Hell yeah, he did! He’s awesome!”

Katie looked back and forth between them. “May I look?”

“Oh I know!” Eddie said cheerfully. “Why don’t they try on something of yours so that you can take a look at their costumes without you having to get all handsy.”

Robin raised an eyebrow at Eddie but turned gleefully to Katie. “That sounds like a great compromise.”

Katie cocked her head back and forth. “Could do, I suppose.”

Steve immediately went for the chain shirts, while Robin wandered around some.

“You’d look pretty in one of my corsets,” Katie said waiting for Steve to get out of the tunic to hand it to her.

Robin blushed. “Aren’t they like painful and gross?”

Katie laughed clear and bright. “Not really. For centuries they were the only form of support a women had. Now, there were tight lacing bodices and corsets, but that wouldn’t happen until much later.”

Robin chewed her bottom lip. She really liked the blue dress and the blue and gold corset. “Can I try on those?” She pointed to the ones she liked.

“What’s your bra size?” Katie asked pulling out the right size dress.

“Uh...” Robin said with a blush. “It’s not very...”

Katie nodded. “It’s fine. I think I’ve got the right one for you anyway, but if it’s too tight or too loose let me know and I’ll find a different size.”

Robin nodded and Steve came out of the dressing room to hand her his tunic.

Eddie let out a low whistle. “Looking good, Sir Stephen.”

Steve did a slow turn and both Eddie and Katie gave him appraising glances.

Robin peeked her head out form behind the curtain. “Um...help?”

Katie was immediately by her side. “What’s up?”

Robin walked out with the laces in her hands and corset not tied.

“Oh!” Katie said. “God, the heat must getting to my brain today. Odd’s Botkins!”

She grabbed laces and showed Robin how to lace it properly.

“How does fit?” she asked stepping back to admire her creation on Robin.

Robin grinned. “I never realized how much I slouched until just now.”

“Yeah,” Katie said with a laugh, “I hear that a lot.” She spun Robin around causing the skirt of the dress to billow out like water rippling in the breeze.

“Wow, Robbie,” Steve said in awe. “That’s gorgeous.”

Eddie hummed his agreement. “Looking good, Buckster!”

Robin squeaked and then dashed back into the dressing room. She came back out with the shirt Steve had altered for her.

Katie took the shirt and tunic and laid them both out on the counter where the cash box was.

“It’s literally seamless,” she said in awe. “And you did this by hand?”

Steve nodded. “But I’ve been doing it for years so...” He half shrugged.

“Hey, man,” Eddie huffed, “don’t diminish your awesomeness. This is hell of a job.”

Steve nodded, blush creeping back up on his cheeks again.

“What’s this?” Katie asked, tapping the embroidery on the hems of both pieces. It was a lovely little floral pattern that was off white on Robin’s shirt so that it blended in, but was a striking silver on Steve’s tunic.

Eddie leaned forward. “Oh, I never noticed that before.” He smiled widely at Steve. “It’s cute.”

Steve flushed even deeper, the red now covering his whole face. “It’s a little something I add to all of my designs. It’s a little signature if you will, so you’ll always know I made it.”

“A Harrington pattern?” Robin asked, leaning over to inspect the embroidery, too.

Steve nodded.

“Have you thought about selling your pieces?” Katie asked. “You could be making bank with these.” She lifted up the shirt to emphasize her point.

Steve shrugged. “Sure, but I wouldn’t have any idea where to sell them or who to sell them to.”

“I’ll sell them for you,” she said, “for a cut of the profits, of course. I sell at gaming and comic conventions, Ren fairs, sci-fi and fantasy conventions.”

Steve chewed on his lip. “I don’t make them very quickly. With them being all hand sewn.”

“Which makes it all the more valuable,” Katie insisted. “A hand sewn dress from a major clothing designer would be worth thousands, sweetie.”

Robin mouthed the word ‘thousand’ in shock.

Eddie pounded Steve on the shoulder. “Hell yeah! Just sell a couple of pieces every once in while and you’ll always having spending money.”

Steve thought it over and then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

Katie and Robin cheered while Eddie and Steve shared a warm smile between them. A smile that sent butterflies through Steve’s chest. Eddie was always there for him.

Always.

Katie pulled out a business card. “Give me a call when you’ve got pieces you want to sell. And don’t leave off that signature either. Your Harrington Pattern as your friend called it.”

Steve took the card frowning. “But won’t that make it harder to sell? Especially the male stuff?”

She shook her head. “The people that buy this sort of thing are the last people that would care about a floral design, particularly since it would make it more authentic.”

He blinked and mouthed ‘oh’. She was right. “Yeah okay.” He lifted the card. “Thanks for this. I guess Robin and I better go change out of these so you can have them back.”

Katie shook her head. “Think of them as an investment in Steve Harrington’s clothing venture.” She lit up and dashed over to the cloaks. She grabbed the leather one that Eddie had been admiring and held it out to him.

“For you too.”

Eddie blinked, he wanted to turn it down and would have, had Steve not taken it and draped it on his shoulders.

The inside had a soft almost fur like material that was a slate grey. It would be too hot to wear in the summer, but in winter he would be outright toasty in it.

“Thank you,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure if he was thanking her or Steve, but it didn’t really matter. He was grateful to both. He looked up at Robin.

“You’ll probably want to change out of yours, Robbie,” he said, carefully removing the cloak and draping it over his arm.

“Why’s that?” she asked with a pout.

A grin took over Eddie’s face. The mischievous one that always sent a lance of heat in Steve’s gut every time he saw it. “Because you’ll want to look rocking for the joust tomorrow.”

Katie grinned too. “That is an excellent idea, good sir!”

Robin seemed to agree because she grabbed her shirt and dashed back into the dressing room.

Steve was surprised she remembered the shirt, if he was honest.

Katie and Eddie helped him get the tunic over the chain shirt without snagging the cloth on the metal.

Robin came out mere seconds later with her prizes clutched to her chest.

“Thank you!” she squealed. “I can’t wait to wear it tomorrow!”

They all went to the parking lot to put away Eddie and Robin’s prizes. The cloak in the van, and the dress and corset in the trunk of Steve’s car.

Steve was grinning from ear to ear and couldn’t stop.

****

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Damsel in This Dress is an actual Ren Faire staple from where I'm from.

Yup, still on my Gareth lives in Loch Nora agenda.

And while I don't ship Will/Gareth Will needs friends who aren't trauma bonded, you know?

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED!!!

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1@zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter

[velvetcloxds]

LITTLE BIRD- CHAPTER TWO | S.B.

word count: 1.8k

characters: mafia!sirius, secret agent!regulus (not related to sirius in this au), prince!james, princess!reader, potter!reader, bodyguard!lily, future prince!remus

series warnings: blood and violence, non-canon characters and places, no magic, time lapses between parts, non-conventional viewing of monarchy and other social systems, mafia characters, semi-legal things, love triangle

summary: regulus confronts you about going to see sirius alone, your parents being home forces you to lie about how you solved the crisis in their absence and even amid damage control you're still thinking about sirius, seems he's thinking about you too

previous chapter | series masterlist

You half expected them to be waiting for you, ready with the full set of questions they usually have you run through, your mom with James, your dad with you, conveniently working to your advantage even though they’ve yet to figure that out. Your mother always got James to squeal, just the right amount of pressure and he’d sing like a bird, his own praises of course, some pile of lies about how he saved the day, made it all work out to his good without the real details, which you’d fill up for him with your dad, despite the knock to your own pride. However, the palace was eerily quiet when you and Lily arrived, the staff at hand and ready as always but your parents weren’t waiting in the dining room after you’d trekked your way there, James was eating alone, the table set yet empty still but there was some food missing from what would’ve been their plates.

“Look at you, home just in time for your warm welcome,” he spoke over a nearly empty glass of wine, messily setting the glass down next to his plate. “How’d you do it, little sister?” it was a slurred question, one he’d probably been pondering since you left and you were ready as always too, prepared with a line-up of stories fit for the situation but your curiosity got the better of you, you wanted this conversation to end quickly and find them soon after. Whatever they’re flawed parental endeavours, your parents were torturously insistent on having dinner together every night it was possible, especially after long trips away from their children, especially after a crisis.

“Regulus,” the easiest lie, also the one that prompted the least number of questions, you didn’t expect him to scoff, didn’t expect him to smirk at you either and you were just about to question that when you heard the man in question’s voice, followed only by your father’s.

“I heard my name,” Regulus looked as handsome as ever, more so in his uniform than you remember from growing up and mostly just seeing him prancing around in a loose shirt and jeans, your dad was smiling so brightly you’d think he hasn’t seen him in ages though really you all saw him the day they left, still you believe age was making him softer than before, you’d never tell him that. Regulus smiled over at you as well, his face distorted momentarily as your dad forced you into a hug, a quick kiss placed to your cheek as you just barely caught the little nod that Regulus gave you, it said enough, it promised that Sirius came through in more ways than one. “Good to see you again, Princess, heard my friend helped you out,” Your dad didn’t let go, didn’t ask for confirmation either but you knew if your mother was around that wouldn’t be the case.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I got stuck in traffic on the way back- can’t believe you beat me home,” you lied, gripped your dad’s waist as one last welcome home before he let you go and drifted right back to Regulus’ side. “And all of you at that, actually, where’s mom?” you had to wonder if Regulus had caught her up yet too or was that your task to do.

“She’s waiting for you in the kitchen,” Your dad wasn’t one to pretend he didn’t know she spent the whole time away simply waiting to be back to gossiping and eating the night’s dessert right from the fridge before the boys got to it, the only little bit of royal rebellion she had left in her after all this time. “Leave some for the rest of us, won’t you,” he joked, and you smiled, a familiar thing, it felt good having them home after all, despite the drama and the lies that was ahead of you.

“Actually, can I have a word with you first?” the question was for you but it was aimed at your dad still, he nodded, didn’t think much of it really, mumbled something about having the server set up some new plates for him and Regulus who took hold of your arm gently to guide you as far away from curious ears as he could without looking suspicious. “What were you thinking?”

Honestly you should’ve expected him to push back, even if you were the one to set up the agreement between Regulus and Sirius, Regulus was very serious about never speaking to him alone, without protection- had he only known how common that was, how many nights you’d snuck off right into danger without a single consideration about what might go wrong. It started out as a deal for peace and peace was definitely still the goal, but there was something intriguing about Sirius, about a man brought up in the role of his family, no choice, not really and somehow there still seemed to be so much more to him, behind the title and the danger and the threat of his very being. Maybe you related to him in the most mundane way, carrying a burden that was yours way before you were even born, fighting a battle that was started even long before that.

“Oh, don’t start, alright, Lily was with me, and we were careful,” you checked the door, made sure he closed it properly just in case your whispered words weren’t soft enough. “You being here, saying that to my dad, that’s more cause for suspicion than anything else,” you were right, he knew that too, and logic couldn’t explain why he said what he said, he just wanted to show you that he knew, show you that he was unhappy being cut out when you were only ever supposed to be the one in the middle.

“I’m sorry,” he pulled a hand through his hair, rolled his eyes into the air as if annoyed with himself, for a man who taught you to think through every action, every word, he wasn’t doing a very good job living by that. “Listen, I don’t like the idea of you being too comfortable around him, around his people- he’s helping us now, but don’t confuse his willingness for alliance.”

“I know,” you did, so why you were annoyed at hearing it was beyond you. “He’s a means to an end, Regulus, I know that and so does he- I needed help, he was willing to provide that, don’t confuse my ability to play at your game for naivety.”

You caught him on that and there was more to be said but your mother was calling for you, your brother was hallway through another drunken rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody sung at the top of his lungs and your phone was burning a hole in your pocket, begging you to text the very person you swore you could not care less about.

“If your mother finds out now, before we’re ready, it’ll ruin everything, we’ll cause a war.”

“And if she finds out you’re the one making me hide it from her, there will be much more than a war for you to worry about,” you had grown tired of this conversation, wanted to be anywhere else. “Goodnight, Regulus, it was good seeing you again, but we have a system for these types of conversations, don’t bring this up in the palace again.”

Fresh off what anyone would consider a victory, you were more annoyed than relieved, there was something to be said about being a powerful woman in this family. Your mother had taken a crown meant only for her corrupt father and built a country up from ruin, ended the reign of the mafia threatening to destroy the entire monarchy and she’d done so while raising two children and facing the constant ridicule of marrying her military advisor and still- beyond all logic, woman still had to earn their place in this palace. It was frustrating, the only person who’d yet to question your abilities was Sirius Black, the very man you should stay as far away from as possible.

“There’s my girl,” you’d found your mom crossed legged on the counter, she was about as far away from a royal example as you could get, yet still she never looked out of place, even with remnants of chocolate pudding smudged on her chin and your father’s dress shirt thrown over her sleep pants way before it would be acceptable for the staff to see her as such.

“Mom,” she opened her arms for a hug, one hand balancing her bowl, the other taking you into her chest just like she did when you were a kid and you laughed lightly at the sight of her, used the sleeve of your shirt to wipe her face, earning a warm smile from her lips as well. “I’m glad you’re home safe,” what else could you say, truly it wasn’t the first time your parents had disappeared without a word or warning, and you considered it might not be the last, while you considered your future, they were still putting out fires from other parts of their past.  “We missed you.”

“I hear James saved the day,” you both scoffed at the same time, laughed because of it, of course she’d never fall for the pretty tales told in her absence, if only she knew. You slipped onto the counter with her, took the extra spoon she offered and scooped a large bite from her bowl. “Thank you,” you hummed around your spoon, shrugged it off quickly, as much as it did your ego good, you didn’t want her to create an opportunity for you to lie to her. “Your dad and I are very proud, you know, can’t imagine it was easy having to deal with this mess just the two of you.”

“Well, I mean we had help.”

“Regulus, of course,” she wasn’t technically wrong so you saw no reason to try and correct her. “Well still, dove, you were very brave,” the words sent your mind adrift and as if his ears were burning all the way across town your phone vibrated in your pocket, two times, just like you’d set it to and while she was reaching over the counter for some more sprinkles you couldn’t help stealing a glance to see what it said. “Think your dad would want some cherries with his?” you nodded, hummed, you’d think you were entirely focused on her but really you were going over the sentence a few more times in your head.

From Padfoot:  Glad you got home safe, little bird, I’ll let you know how I’m planning to collect my debt soon.

[sheeple]

Unconditional

GIF NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Genre(s): Modern!au / College/Uni!au / Mob!au / Chubby!Aegon Fandom(s): House of the Dragon (TV show) Pairing(s): Aegon Targaryen x fem!reader Summary:  When Helaena's 'friend' suddenly comes into the picture, something about her draws Aegon in. Even when signs point to run as far, far away as he can. Warning(s): Ooc Aegon? He's a poor little insucure Meow Meow / Mob-related violence / Name calling (positive?) / Aegon has mommy issues but we already knew that / overprotective Aemond / whiney Aeg / slight Sub!Aeg / Smut? P in V (only brief) / unprotected devil’s tango [Masterlist] [Moodboard] [Teaser] [Playlist] [Instagram profiles]

Aegon is cold, wet, and overall grumpy. He missed breakfast this morning because he slept in, all thanks to his hangover. "When is this friend of yours supposed to come, Hel?"

Both Helaena and Aemond roll their eyes annoyed. They have been standing outside waiting for five minutes while it slowly started to rain. Aemond told him to bring a jacket or umbrella, but Aegon just laughed and said umbrellas are for wimps.

Aemond looks down at his older brother with a smug grin as he angles his black umbrella so that droplets fall on Aegon's head.

At that moment, a flashy sports car comes speeding around the corner and stops in front of their feet. A window rolls down and loud phonk music pours out.

A woman ─ you ─ leans over and smiles widely at Helaena, "hey, sugar tits. You wanna have a good time?"

Both the Targaryen boys' eyes grow wide. How dare someone talk like that to their sister? Aemond is ready to throw some fists but is stopped by Helaena giggling in glee.

She opens the car door and falls on the seat with a smile. "Do you even know what a good time is slut?"

Unsurely, the two brothers also get in the car and before they are buckled in, the car speeds away.

While Helaena grabs your phone and changes the music, Aegon studies you through the mirror. A careless smile adores your face as his sister switches the music to something more to her taste, eyes flicking between the road and the girl next to you.

Aemond is the first of the brothers to speak up. "How do you two... know each other." He raises an eyebrow as he looks sceptically at you. 

You make eye contact with Aemond's single eye. "We took the same class in our first year before I─"

The loud grumbling of Aegon's stomach interrupts your sentence, making you look at him through the rearview mirror. 

"Sorry", mumbles Aegon in embarrassment. His cheeks colour bright red as he lays a hand on his belly.

"Are you okay, Darling?"

The concern surprises the white-haired man. He has never met a person who ─ immediately after meeting someone ─ shows so much concern. Not even his mother does it, and she's been 'caring' for him for almost twenty-six years. 

Aegon shakes his head. "N-no... I just haven't eaten yet."

A frown grows on your face. "You have to eat well, Darling. Do you need me to stop somewhere? There is a Taco Bell not far from here."

The three Targaryen siblings are baffled. Helaena is used to you wanting to take care of everybody around you, but this is new. Never in the years she knows you has she seen you immediately being so... you to anyone so quickly.

While Aegon sputters and stumbles over his words, claiming that he's okay, he has a pizza in the fridge waiting for him, Aemond's eye darkens. Something's off about you. He knows that. And it's not for the fact that you're kind to his brother.

It's for the fact that your knuckles have bandages messily taped over them, blood seeping through the gauze on the inside. Is that why you were late?

Your eyes meet Aemond's single on accident through the rearview mirror and you cock your head to the side. What's his problem? Ever since he set foot in your car, you have felt his glare on the back of your head.

You turn your attention back to Helaena, who's telling a story about that one asshole professor the both of you had in the first year. And how he hasn't changed in all those years.

"He then turns to this girl who sits in the front row and says: 'that means that one of your ancestors was a bastard from Dorne, seeing as your last name is Sand'. I swear this girl would burst out in tears the way he said." Helaena angrily folds her arms over each other with a huff.

You shake your head. "Prof Rys never had chill. I bet he is a bastard himself or something, the way he acts about them."

Before Helaena can retort back, Aemond buts in.

"What do you do, exactly?", he snarks, "if you're not going to uni, what do you do?"

"Aemond!", scolds Helaena, turning around and whacking him on his head.

You laugh, "it's okay, Len. I own multiple clubs, bars, and pubs all around the country."

"And for that, you need bruised knuckles?" Aemond challenges you. You know that. He is searching for more, for something behind the curtain.

The cat gets filled with awkward tention while Helaena throws daggars at her brother.

"Oh would you look at that", you say in faux surprise, stopping in front of their building. "Look's like you're home." Your smile drops and you glower coldly at the youngest Targaryen sibling.

Aemond practically kicks the door open and scowls inside the building, his hands in his pockets. Helaena apologises to you embarrassed.

"It's okay, love. He clearly hasn't had his day. We text?"

"We text." She squeezes your hand before getting out.

You roll down the passenger's window and smile at Aegon, who stands behind his sister. "Remember to eat, yeah darling?" He nods meekly, wetting his lips.

Winking at the siblings, you close the window and speed off. You've got a text from Harwin saying the scumbag talked. You wonder if it was before or after breaking his kneecaps.

That night, Aegon lays on his back, staring at the ceiling while his mind is on you. There is something so... mesmerizing about you. If it is the way your hair falls, how your eyes shined when you talked to him, or how you carelessly smiled with Helaena, he doesn't know.

A smile grows on his face as he turns around, fist gripping one of the many extra pillows on his bed. Oh, how he wishes he can see you again soon.

A couple days later Aegon sees his sister standing in the doorway of her room, checking out her outfit from afar. "How do I look?", she asks as she spots Aegon through the mirror.

"Like a pigeon."

Helaena rolls her eyes. As usual, very helpful. 

"Where are you going?" Aegon follows her around the room with his eyes while she searches for a pair of high heels and a bag.

"Y/n has invited me to hang around the VIP section of The Graveyard."

A sudden flutter goes through his body and stops in Aegon's stomach, buzzing around like a kid on a sugar high. "Y/n?"

"I rather have the two of you not go out tonight", grumbles Aemond from the hallway and turns his phone around for them to read.

THE STRANGER STRIKES AGAIN. DIRTY POLITICIAN FOUND DEAD. 

Helaena dry heaves as Aegon stares in disgust at the photo the article has provided of the politician. All his fingers are cut off and stuffed in his mouth. The word RAT is carved in his forehead in big, bold letters while his mouth is sewn shut. The article states that The Stranger has published multiple documents online exposing the politician, who has stolen millions from the sick and poor. 

Many, many years ago, during medieval times The Seven were worshipped as Gods. Through the years, they turned into mob and mafia bosses but all fall under The Father. He is the most powerful, from money to influence. People have suspicions that it is a politician or judge.

The Mother has the pharmaceutical industry in her pockets, as well as almost all the hospitals and clinics in the country. The Warrior owns the totality of the armies and all the cops. 

Most, if not all, real estate is from The Smith. Most of the projects in development get money from him. The Maiden, for not that long, has ownership over the sex work. It's said since she has taken hold of the industry it has gotten a lot safer for those who work in brothels and clubs.

The Crone keeps the cultural aspect of society alive. She makes sure that libraries, concert halls, and theatres keep their doors open and that people can learn and grow.

At last, is The Stranger. They have no 'official' business, but rather they are the executioner of The Seven. They make people disappear, get information out of someone with rather... interesting methods, or silence them.

To everybody in Westeros, this is common knowledge. Everyone also knows that they shouldn't mess with The Seven. The politician is a perfect example. What isn't known, is who those people are. Speculations are that for hundreds of years, the same families carry those titles, passed from parent to child.

Helaena ignores Aemond and continues to get dressed. "Nothing's gonna happen, Aem. It's least likely that The Stranger is going to strike again. And besides, I'm with Y/n."

Aemond pinches his nose bridge, sighing extravagantly. "That is exactly what I'm worried about. I don't trust her."

Aegon turns angrily to his brother. How dare he say that? He has only met you once and he already is so sure about his opinion of you.

"I don't care", she dares him, "I'm still going. And Aegon is going with me, aren't you?" His sister turns to him and looks with big eyes, motioning him to do as she says.

Aegon, all too glad to see you again, tries to contain his excitement with a short nod. "Yeah, since I have nothing better to do, I thought I would come with."

The tallest Targaryen sibling angrily huffs and turns around, stomping off. 

"Are you ready to go? the Uber is almost here... You're not wearing that, are you?" Helaena fixes the last of her makeup in the mirror before looking at him with raised eyebrows.

Aegon looks down at his clothes ─ a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt with holes. He hurries to his room and has a small crisis about what to wear. He knows what looks good on him. He knows what will get him girls to hook up with. But with you, he's not sure. For one, he does not want to just hook up with you.

Even though you're his sister's age, you are a woman. One who has lived in the real world for a while now. You're probably not interested in boys. Because that is what Aegon is; a college-aged boy. 

He's reminded of the fact when he walks into the Graveyard and sees you perched on a barstool in a black dress with a leg slit and your red-painted lips drawn into a teasing smile. You're entertaining a man with shoulder-length hair. Aegon can't see who it is since his back is turned towards him. But the man is broad and he for sure could break bones with ease.

Helaena wildly waves with her hands above her head and it gets your attention. The smile grows to that one of glee as you hop off the stool, making your way over to them.

Hugging Helaena, you close your eyes. "It's so good to see you! You look absolutely stunning!" You make Helaena do a twirl.

"You too! I am obsessed with this dress, oh my Gods! I hope you don't mind that Aegon came with? I texted you before we left."

Pulling your phone out of your bra, you check the messages that you missed. With a nod, you put the device back. "Oh yeah, I see... I had a meeting, so I put it on silent. Do you guys want anything to drink?"

You lead them up a pair of stairs that are closed off by a velvet rope and security opens it for you and them to pass through. 

As you all settle in the booth, you turn to the sibling pair. "It's 2000's night, so expect a lot of Timberland, Sean Paul, and Christina Aguilera."

You feel a hand on your shoulder and turn your head. Harwin. He looks at you in earnest before motioning for you to follow him with a nod. 

"If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll be right back." You meet Aegon's eyes and smile at him. You stand up and squeeze his underarm. 

Harwin leads you to your office and you close the door behind you. He stands in the middle of the room, his fists balled and his lips tight. "How do you know them?"

You raise your eyebrows. "Who? Helaena and Aegon? What is it to you?" Walking towards your desk, you lean against it.

"They... they're-" Harwin sighs, running a hand over his face. "They are no good. Helaena is the best of the lot, but Aegon and Aemond... You need to stay away from them."

Pushing off the desk, you go stand in front of him, tilting your head up so you can look him in the eyes. "How do you know that?"

Harwin hesitates for a moment, searching for the right words. "My wife's their half-sister. Her father re-married and out came them. There is also another one, but he's in Oldtown. They're all spoiled brats!"

With a deep inhale, you try to put all the information in the right order. So... Harwin's in-laws are the age of his own children? But they're all biologically connected? What in the world...

"And what is so wrong about Aegon? He seems quite lovely."

The man grabs both of your hands in a fatherly matter, a sorry look on his face. "Don't do this to yourself. I know that look, it was the same one your father had in his eyes after meeting our mother."

Before you can protest, he hushes you. "He's a boy, Y/n. He parties until he almost has alcohol poisoning, sleeps around with no regard for their feelings, and loves getting in trouble."

Pulling your hands back, your face hardens. "I get that you and your family have their judgements about them, but Helaena's been nothing but a good friend to me so I won't let you talk about her brother like that. You are not my father, Harwin. He's dead and I've been taking care of myself for all these years, so I don't need you to start doing that now."

You turn around and walk briskly out of the office, leaving your second-hand man in the middle of the room.

How dares he? You get that he wants to look out for you, but he's out of line. You can judge for your own if Aegon is truly what Harwin says he is. You don't need his prejudice to swarm your judgement.

Besides, you know that you can't take this too far. Aegon is an innocent civillian. You can't pull him into your world without being sure he's one hundred per cent okay and ready to face it. It's all innocent fun, right?

You take a deep breath before you go sit back in the booth where you left Helaena and Aegon. Only Helaena is gone and has left Aegon on his own. He looks up from his phone with big eyes, but a smile grows on his face once he sees it's you. 

"Where's Hel?", your question, looking around to maybe spot her.

Aegon puts his phone in his pocket, focusing on your face. "She went to grab something to drink but she got distracted and is dancing. Look, right there." He points towards the crowd, but when he notices you're looking to the wrong side, Aegon grabs your hand and guides your pointer finger to where his sister is twirling around.

You laugh out loud at the sight of Helaena totally minding her own business, oblivious to the many stares she's getting.

"Do you also want to dance?" You turn to face Aegon. What you didn't realise is while Aegon helped you to point to Helaena, your faces are practically next to each other. Now that you turned your head, your noses almost touched.

Aegon's cheeks turn a violent prink as he doesn't know what to do. Normally he would have taken the chance to kiss the girl, but he doesn't dare to do that to you. You're far too beautiful to just kiss so carelessly.

You don't wait for his reply and just pull Aegon to the dance floor. At first, he's awkward and doesn't know what to do. You grab his hands and place them on your middle.

"I love this part", you say as the music slows down. Your lips are touching his ear shell. Was it a seducing technique? Who knows.

Aegon feels that the time, like the song, slows down as he watches you dance with your eyes closed and smile. The multiple coloured lights dance over your face and give you an ethereal glow. 

His hands on your waist tighten their grip and pull you flush against his body. Your eyes open and watch how he smiles much more confidently than all the times before. It widens your own and you two sway from side to side together, feeling the music. 

Aegon twirls you around, and it earns a giggle from you. "Where is this sudden confidence comming from?", you ask as you lay both of your hands on his chest. You feel his heart beat rapidly under your right hand and it tells you that he's maybe not as confident as he looks. "It's cute."

"Is it good cute or bad cute?" He cocks his head to the side, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip.

You pretend to think for a moment. "It's cute."

Aegon smiles amused, you're flirting with him. He's at a loss for words, so he's saying the first thing that comes across his brain. "Ha- have I already told you how beautiful you look?" 

There is something so endearing about Aegon, you decide then and there.  He gets a spurt of confidence but then he just forgets it. So suddenly. He eyes you shyly through his lashes all while putting on the most blinding and radiating smile you've ever seen.

You spend hours dancing together, him twirling you around and jumping up and down. You don't even notice your heels are killing you until you take a moment to sit back down and drink something.

Groaning, you slip out of your shoes and pull your feet up on the seat, so they're not touching the nasty ground. Aegon comes back with two glasses of something and slides next to you. He grabs your feet and pulls you close to him.

And you two just talk. About everything and nothing. Especially life.

"Excuse me, how many times did you say?", you ask baffled.

Aegon grins sheepishly. "Yeah... I'm on my tenth major right now. The uni allows it because dad's a huge benefactor of the school."

You lean back. "So... y'all rich?"

"I-I wouldn't call us ri-rich. We're comfortable..." His cheeks colour a bright red as he stammers out.

A soft smile grows on his face. "It's okay, Aegon. There is nothing wrong with having more money than the average citizen. And also not with not knowing what to do once you hit uni age. Way too early we have to choose what we will do for the rest of our lives, in my opinion at least."

Aegon looks in wonder at the woman who sits next to him. They are almost the same age but she's so much wiser beyond her age. 

"Why did you drop out?" 

The sudden question surprises you. It also seems to surprise and embarrass Aegon as he shrinks in himself.

"I... dropped out because my father died", you begin, looking at the half-empty glass on the table and how the condensation slowly drips down, "I am- was his only child, so everything came down on me. I knew that I couldn't keep my father's legacy afloat while attending university, so I choose what was the best."

"Was it the best for you?", asks Aegon quietly, reaching for your hand.

You swallow the lump in your throat. "I don't know." It comes out in nearly a whisper, but he has heard it.

Aegon doesn't hesitate for a moment and pulls you in a hug, laying his head on your shoulder.

The hug goes as quickly as it comes, and you push him away. You don't know what to do, so you fake a jawn. "Oh gosh, I'm actually really tired. Do you want me to drop you off at your place?"

Aegon nods, defeated. He knows he has taken it a step too far. What was he thinking?!

You tell him to wait outside as you go seek Helaena. You return alone, telling him that Helaena said she would get back home on her own because she found a couple friends from uni.

The ride back to the Targaryen sibling's apartment is very quiet, apart from the radio playing some pop songs.

"Can I tell you a secret?", you say after a while. "I'm actually quite scared of driving in the dark."

Aegon turns to you with raised eyes. "If you want, I could take over?"

You shake your head. "Thank you, but it's okay. It has quite the irony, believe me. Most of my business is conducted in the dark, with all the clubs and bars and such. I have really bad astigmatism, but wearing glasses in this profession is pretty impractical."

The eldest Targaryen sibling nods, drumming along with the music. He watches the cars pass by, before turning his gaze towards you. He studies your face again, finding new exciting details. And they are the most mundane things. Like how you scan the road, looking ever so often in the rearview mirror.

It's every freckle and mole that adorns your face. Every dimple and scar. The way your nose is shaped. The little peach fuzz that he spots when your profile is lighted from behind.

"I sing."

"Excuse me?"

"I sing and hum when I am scared. When I drive alone, I put on Disney songs to keep my mind at ease." You admit, glancing at Aegon to gauge his reaction.

If there is one flaw you had to name about yourself, it would be your fear to drive in the dark. It's stupid, for a member of The Seven to be scared of driving when the sun is down, but too much bad shit happens at night.

A smile grows on his face. Aegon feels really special that you tell him this. Nobody ever tells him something personal. And he doesn't blame them. Normally he doesn't give a shit about other people.

But you aren't other people. At least not to him.

Nothing else is said for the remainder of the car ride to the Targaryen siblings' residential. And neither Aegon nor you feel the need to say something. A comfortable silence hangs between you two.

You pull up to the building, and Aegon undoes his seatbelt. "Thank you", he says, smiling shyly.

You reach over and kiss him on his cheek. "Have a good night, Darling."

His cheeks grow hot and he stumbles out of the car, waving at you as he fumbles his way inside the building. Once he is in the elevator, he leans against the wall and exhales loudly. He is so fucking in love with you.

Later that night, when Aegon lays in his bed, he stares up at his phone. He feels really bad that he's doing this. But after tonight, he can't stay away from you. So, he decides, he's going to find your Instagram account. He wants to start with searching your name, but there are way too many Y/n's to just do that. Plus, he doesn't know your last name.

Having a eureka moment, Aegon goes to his sister's account. You're sure to come by at some point.

Helaena follows over a million people, so there's no way he could find you in the pile. He does search your name but to no avail. He next tackles his sister's story highlights with her friends. You are sure to come by at one point.

He taps at rapid speed through the photos of his sister with her friends, their cousins and nephews. 

He once taps wrong and ends up on Aemond's Insta. Pretentious fucker, only posting 'aesthetic' pictures of himself, himself shirtless, or his stupid piano. Ugh.

Just as he wants to give up, there are you. You and Helaena hang off of each other, big smiles on your faces and a cig in between Hel's fingers. Your account is tagged as stragner. He never could have guessed that. 

The content also does not say a lot. Only 9 posts. Travelling photos, dropped coffee, a cute snowman, and embroidery. Huh, thinks Aegon, he would never have considered it. But at the same time isn't so strange to imagine you with an embroidery hoop.

His thumb hovers over the follow button. At the last second, he decides not to. Except he has a big ass thumb and accidentally taps on the button. 

Aegon jumps a metre in the air, throwing his phone across his room and hiding under his covers. Stupid stupid STUPID. He and his stupid fat fingers.

From across town, you lay curled up on the couch watching a series you meant to catch up on a while ago when your phone dings next to you.

You pick up your phone and when you see the notification, you're giggling like a little schoolgirl.

[INSTAGRAM] aegs started to follow you

How in the seven hells did he find you? You scroll through his account. The previous smile you had now grows even wider. He posts a lot of pictures of himself ─ not all even pretty but still endearing. A couple of memes pass by and also funny pictures of animals. It's charming.

Without hesitation, you press the Follow back button and throw your phone on the couch next to you, not daring to look if he sends you a dm or something.

Oh, how grateful you are Helaena convinced you to make an Insta account.

That night the both of you go sleeping with big ass smiles on your faces. Your cheeks still hurt the morning you wake up.

[aegs] Hey, idk if this is too forwards, but do you want to hang out some time? [aegs] Totally no pressure if you're too busy or anything

Aegon feels like an idiot. More than he normally is. He has debated the whole night about sending you a dm. You're a busy person who has probably better things to do than text with some guy.

He nearly chokes in his serial when he sees the notification flash by. You replied. You even liked his first message.

[stragner] Of course! Sounds fun [stragner] I am really busy tomorrow and the day after that, tho... But Thursday I'm free!

Thursday... Thursday... Is he free? Aegon checks his calendar to make sure he's one hundred per cent sure he has nothing else. He has classes, but he could ditch that. Wait... you wouldn't like him to do that. So he can't do that. 

[aegs] I do have classes, but after I'm fully yours!

Aegon cringes at his own desperation. Even though he feels anxious about your reply. 

Meanwhile, you type away, deleting some before deciding to not change anything and just send it.

[stragner] That sounds like a plan. Should I pick you up? I know this very pretty coffee place we could grab a cuppa

Putting your phone in your back pocket, you turn around and put on your game face. Harwin is holding a man up by his hair, his face swollen with bruises and a mix of blood, snot, and tears running down his face.

It was easy to lure the man. Putting your tits in his face while grinning down at him and he didn't see you putting drugs in his morning coffee.

Grabbing a pair of pliers, you approach the man. "I'll ask you one last time, nicely. Where did the shipment go?"

Snorting snot back, the man's bottom lip quivers. "I-I don't know! I did-didn't work that ni-night!"

"WRONG!" You motion for Harwin to hold down his hand and you yank out a nail. The man wails in pain while you study the nail. "You have nine more nails and I have all the time in the world. I will get the truth, even if it means I have to pull out all your toenails."

After the third nail, the man repents. "It was R'hllor! R'hllor stole the shipment!"

Pulling back, you look at the man. "R'hllor?"

He nods desperately. "Y-yes! R'hllor wants to make his way to Westeros! He has multiple politicians and police officers in his pocket!"

"It's such a shame...", you tut, grabbing his chin to lift his gaze to meet your eyes. "Such a shame that the only thing you can spew is old news, honey."

The man thrashes wildly against Harwin's iron grip as you move back to the station with all your tools, only to grab the jerrycan with gasoline. 

"Did you know", you begin as you pour the liquid onto the man, "in the olden days, ceremonies held for R'hllor involved fire. It was believed that, when staring into a flame, his followers would receive prophecies. Shall we check if it's true?"

Striking a match, you let it dance in front of your face before you flick it towards the man, the gasoline catching on fire and burning the man in mere seconds. 

Harwin hands you a rag so that you can clean your hands, "so R'hllor's trying to expand out of Essos? Bossman won't be happy with this news."

You shrug. "When is he ever happy? Should we tell him before or after he had his breakfast coffee?" 

Both of you check your watches. 9:36 AM. "After", you both agree, making your way up the stairs of the basement, letting the man behind ─ still screaming and thrashing as the flames burn away at his skin.

Thursday morning stands Aegon in front of his closet in his underpants, hands on his hips while staring at his clothes. What is date appropriate but doesn't scream desperate? That doesn't scream 'please fuck me'. He's not that desperate... he thinks...

Aemond's head peeks through the crack of Aegon's door, his nose upturned. "Don't forget that Cole is picking us up after school to bring us to mum."

The eldest brother turns his eyes towards his brother. "What? Why?" 

"Dinner before the gala, remember dinkwad?" Aemond rolls his singular eye annoyed and slams the door after him.

Fuck... there goes Aegon's plans to woo you. He grabs his phone and quickly sends you a text.

[aegs] I am so sorry but I have to take a rain check on our date. Mum's suddenly expecting us this afternoon🙄

[stragner] Oh... [stragner] No worries tho. Another time?

[aegs] Yes! [aegs] Definitely! [aegs] I promise, scout's honour🤞

Aegon is annoyed. He could have spent his afternoon with you, enjoying time together. But instead, he's at home picking at his food while his mother gushes about Aemond and how great he is doing at school. Barf.

Picking at his food, his attention is pulled towards his mother. "I've had your suit sent to the dry cleaners. I expect you to be on your best behaviour tonight. So no flirting with guests, or eyeing the waiters."

Aegon lifts up one eyebrow annoyed while nodding, his eyes still focussed on his asperges. "I'll be on my best behaviour, mother."

The night has not yet begun and he's already annoyed. And it doesn't help that once he tries on his suit, it barely fits him.

Yes, Aegon knows that he let himself go the past years, but he always used to bounce back. But now, his stomach isn't as flat as it used to be and his sides are softer, rounder.

Helaena passes by his room and hears him huff. She peeks her head inside and sees him mentally struggling with his suit. She quickly goes to her own room and returns with a plastic bag. 

Aegon hears a knock and is surprised to see Helaena with a soft smile on her face. "I wanted to give you this on your birthday, but it seems like you need this now."

He hesitantly grabs the bag and pulls out a three-piece suit. It's a nice dark green colour. It looks and feels really expensive. "Thanks, Hel", he says, giving her a genuine smile.

A while later, all dressed and ready, Aegon follows after his family as they walk in fashionably late into the gala event. His father walks next to his mother, heavily relying on his cane. Aemond guides Helaena into the venue and that leaves Aegon to fend for himself.

He miserably stares into his wine glass, looking around the room with a curled-up lip. All these rich people pretend to care about whatever charity is hosting this gala while they just want to flaunt their wealth. It makes him sick. It makes him long for a simpler life, one without 

Aegon's eyes scan the room but halt on a figure standing with their back towards him talking with his half-sister and her husband. They are dressed in a simple, floor-length black dress with a slit and sheer red gloves that end just above their elbows. 

They throw their hair over their shoulder and Aegon swears his heart stops. It's you. And you have never been more beautiful. 

You throw your head back in a laugh and hit Rhaenyra's husband on his shoulder. No... it can't be... Aegon swore he vaguely recognised that man from the club. Since when does Rhaenyra's husband work for you?

Rhaenyra says something and he sees you turn around. As you spot him, a large and genuine smile grows on your face and you excuse yourself.

Aegon nervously straightens out his three-piece suit and does a quick breath check. 

"Don't you look like a handsome young man", you muse, reaching out and brush a stray hair out of his face. "The colour suits you well. Why don't you do a spin?"

He awkwardly turns on his heels, and you clasp your hands together. Aegon feels his cheeks heat up. "You look very pretty, Darling. Have they left you behind?

You motion with your head to his sister ─ who sits with their father, happily munching on a piece of cake ─ and his brother and mother ─ who look at you with their lips curled up.

Aegon groans softly, knowing what that means. And yup, as he suspected, his mother hightails over to him and you. Aemond's gaze trained on them like a hawk, a scowl on his face.

"Aegon who... is this?" Allicent does a once over, her eyes travelling up your figure, obviously judging. "Wait... I know you. Don't you work for Harwin Strong? 

You hold out your hand for her to shake with a confident smile and introduce yourself. "Actually, Harwin works for me, Mrs Targaryen."

This makes the woman's eyebrows raise in surprise, an unreadable look on her face. "My. Aren't you a bit young to be- what exactly are you?" 

A soft 'mom!' comes from Aegon, embarrassed. You grab his hand to let him know it's alright. "I own a security company, ma'am. I had to, unfortunately, take over the family business after my father's untimely passing. But I'm sure you must've already known this, being in-laws and everything." The smile you give Alicent is big and tooth-rottenly kind, in a fake way. 

"Well, it was nice talking to you." And with that, his mother turns away to go back to the table to sit next to her son. They angrily whisper to each other. Their glances and glares are quite obvious.

"I'm sorry-", begins Aegon, but you take his face in both of your hands, a worried look in your eyes.

"Are you okay, Honey?"

He nods sheepishly. You haven't called him Honey before, and it sends the butterflies in his stomach bustling. 

You sigh, fixing your gloves, and cock your head to the side. "To be honest, I'm pretty much done with all this peacocking. I do have to speak to a handful of people. What do you say? Want to join me before ditching this whole affair?"

You hold out your hand and Aegon takes it excitedly with a nod. You pull him around the room. And while you talk with people — which Aegon does not even have the care for to listen to the topics — you don't let go of him. Every time you have to shake someone's hand, you are sure to grab his arm with your other. Never losing contact.

And as you promised, in no time the two of you are in your car and speeding away from the event.

The way to your house is closer to his own apartment than Aegon thought. You drive the car into the underground parking and park the car in a marked spot with your apartment number.

You lead him to the elevator and scan a card before pressing a button. The doors close and Aegon feels the elevator move up.

The two of you stand next to each other, shoulders touching. Suddenly, you sign frustrated and whisper a ‘fuck it’.

As Aegon wants to turn to you and ask what is wrong, you grab him by his tie and smash your lips against his. The kiss is hungry, full of desperation and want. 

Aegon does not know what to do with his hands, holding them up in the air surprised.

You pull away from him, lipstick smutched. Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips. With a sigh, you release the tie and take a step back. "I'm sorry. I should have asked." You hang your head down in shame. Damn you for assuming.

Aegon reaches out and pushes your chin up before connecting your lips again. This time in a softer manner. His hand goes from your chin to your cheek, before it ends up on your neck and pulls you flushed against him.

You hum satisfied, gripping his shoulders and lean in even more than you would have thought possible. You bite his bottom lip softly, releasing it with a pop.

A soft whimper leaves Aegon's lips as your own trail down the corner of his lips, to his yaw and sucking on his neck. He rolls his head to the side, giving you more access while his hand laces into your hair.

The elevator doors roll open and you pull away. Your lips are puffy and red, your chest rising rapidly as you watch Aegon come back from cloud seven. 

"Come on", you say and take his hand, leading him into your penthouse.

On the way to your bedroom, you've lost both your gloves and your high heels, while Aegon is on his bare feet and his tie hangs loosely around his neck. The jacket he wore is thrown somewhere your gloves also have ended up.

Reaching your bedroom, you push him down to your bed. Aegon leans back on his elbows. You push the straps of your dress down, and it lands on the ground. Aegon's eyes are transfixed on your boobs. They have to be the most perfect pair he has ever seen. And he has seen a lot.

"What is that?", he whispers with a smile, eyes fixated on the black strips holding up your boobs.

You roll your eyes, pulling the tape off your body. "You don't think my tits stay up by themselves, do you? Darling, gravity isn't the biggest fan of breasts."

Aegon sits up, pulling you closer to him by your hips. "I don't care, I like 'em." He presses a kiss above your belly button and smiles up at you.

You feel the heat creep up onto your face, and you look away smiling. "Shut up and get undressed."

"Yes ma'am", he smiles, and reaches for his blouse, but he hesitates.

You notice the quiver in his hands, and you reach out. "We don't have to be doing anything you don't like, Aegon. Just say the word and we can just chill on the couch."

But Aegon shakes his head, "no, I want this. I want you. But I'm... I'm scared you aren't going to like what you see."

Aegon knows his confidence is mostly an act to hide the fact that most days, he feels too fat and too lumpy.

With a shake of your head, you take his hands. "You could never disappoint me, Darling. May I..?" You refer to his shirt and Aegon nods.

Unbuttoning his blouse, you push the fabric off his shoulders. You take him in. Yes, his curves are round and his belly has faint stretch marks. But that makes him all more desirable to you. 

In a world that is harsh and rough, you need something soft.

"You're perfect", you whisper before kissing him again with much vigour. And this time, Aegon knows what to do. He wraps his hands around your sides and pulls you on top of him, a thick thigh between your legs. 

You hold his face as you grind against his thigh, creating friction on your core. Breaking the kiss, you moan out. Aegon lifts you off so he can shimmy out of his pants and underwear. You pull down your panties and fling them across the room.

Now that the two of you are finally naked — in Aegon's opinion — you crawl on his lap and reach for his penis. You squeeze him, swiping your thumb over his tip. Aegon moans loudly.

"Please", he whimpers.

"Please what?" You raise an eyebrow and pump him slowly

Aegon lifts his hips into your hand, "please- I- I- I can't! I have to feel you."

Taking pity, you let go of his cock and throw one leg over him, straddling him. You line up his dick and slowly lower yourself.

As you sink down on Aegon's cock, one hand gripping your hip and his other on a tit, with his head thrown back into the pillow in ecstasy, you don't notice a text flashing by on your phone screen.

[BOSSMAN] Enjoy your toy while it lasts

Taglist: @howyouloveyourdragon​ @linn-a-a @cogumoss @babyvulcan @ilovedesert-20089​ @prettyblondguys​ @asiandongbongsoo​

[radioactive-earthshine]

While I'm talking about Klarion and his incarnations I just want to gush very messily about a little known else world's story that I feel very strongly about being animated that has one of my favorite versions of him.

It's title is Zatanna and the House of Secrets and is stars Zatanna, of course, Zatara, Pocus, and Klarion written by Matthew Cody and drawn by Yoshi Yoshitani.

The following isn't any sort of meta or analysis really this is just me squawking about this book and some favorite scenes while trying to make the core point make sense to hopefully convince you to read it.

The art alone is breathtaking.

It's an absolutely fun and delightful origin story for Zatanna full of whimsy, soft moments, some peril and of course great character interactions. If you're a fan of 80s/90s media you might get a lot of vibes from some popular fantasy movies of the time visually and thematically.

In this version we also get to see Klarion's mother (unnamed in this) as the primary antagonist and I am in love with her character and her design. In this version she is the Witch Queen with Klarion as her direct heir. Naturally, Klarion wants nothing to do with it.

Even so, when Klarion first shows up he doesn't make the best impression on Zatanna but we find out quickly that he's more or less pretty unwilling in his mother's ploys.

(Also I really want to see Zatanna smacking Klarion animated).

The story is also about Zatanna's growth and coming into her powers while uncovering secrets tied to her father and mother.

They each share the braincell here.

Though the be fair Klarion is not as powerful here as he is in other versions of himself so he relies on Zatanna multiple times to save the day.

Pocus is such a delight in this, he reminds me a lot of Binx in Hocus Pocus.

These panels... You can feel the love. I wish my cat would let me hold her like that.

Klarion throughout this adventure with Zatanna really does grow to care about her...

It has soft and cute moments from two parallel people, without giving too much away Zatanna feels alienated by being kept secrets about herself, and her dead mother that Zatara was complicit in. He had his reasons, but being a 13 year old girl those reasons do not feel valid for her right now.

Klarion meanwhile was a child under a stern and strict ruler who does not radiate warmth or love and he is told what to do, and what to be, so much that he does not feel like he has control over his own life. All while maintaining that Klarion whimsy in that he just wants to have F U N.

Klarion begs Zatanna to run away with him and forget about her father who had lied to her all her life, so they both can be free and revel in that childish fantasy of being unbridled by rules like Peter Pan's Lost Boys.

Another scene I desperately want animated.

Sadly, Klarion made a misjudgment and fell back on some habits that the characters is known to do and he loses Zatanna's trust for a while.

Even though they have a sudden bridge between them Klarion still has no desire to really help his mother, and by the end of the book he's not afraid to snipe at her and defy her openly. He's made up his mind about what he wants.

Witch Queen turned both Teekl and Pocus into stuffed effigies and Klarion guards them both, angrily. If you know anything about Klarion there is one thing you do not do... fuck with his cat.

Eventually, Zatanna comes to learn some more truths and fully embraces her magic, which gives her an edge over Witch Queen.

The hopeful look Klarion gives his mother kills me. Naturally, Witch Queen doesn't really answer her. She's hot but there's no warmth in her heart.

And so Zatanna saves the day, Witch Queen is defeated, the house is put back in its natural state and her father, Pocus and Teekl are all restored.

The only thing that wasn't quite fully restored was her budding friendship with Klarion.

It doesn't end entirely on bad terms between them, but it is a note of bittersweet.

I really love this story, it captures fun whimsy while showing a realistic story about a 13 year old extraordinary girl dealing with unnatural problems, and normal mundane problems as well.

Klarion here is very divergent from almost all of his incarnations but he is still recognizable as himself being that fun and free person unbridled by rules. Also his design here is delightful as he has more beast-like traits with fangs and pointed ears. I wonder sometimes if this Klarion will ever get antlers.

10/10 recommend and I really, really feel strongly that this story should be adapted into animation.

[whosheyes]

BEST FRIEND’S BROTHER

Story : (I suck at doing description) Oneshot about you who was in love (sort of) with your childhood bestfriend, but ever since he dated your bestfriend he seemed to be distanced. Until he called you due to his break up, his girlfriend called amidst the moment you were consoling him and ditched you right that moment. His brother stepped in to console you instead.

Warning : SFW, just one curse word at the end, (i’m not sure if this is angst but-), maybe a bit cliche

-

The ticking of the clock continued, it ticked and ticked and ticked until I acknowledge the sound, it was much more soothing now. I shifted under my folded legs, easing the sore I finally felt on the tips of my toes, then I stood up slowly. The boy, the same boy that I spend my childhood growing up with sniffled against my arm, his head weighting my arm down, but I stood up regardless. Marcus inhaled once; the breath was broken in pieces before he finally picked his head up, he avoided my eyes as he leaned back towards the wall behind us.

I plopped down next to him, reading his body movement as I took my items from the ground and kept it next to me. Hesitantly, I bit the inside of my lip cheek before I muttered, “She-

Ding

Came a notification from his phone, the phone that he threw away earlier, I watched as he clenched his jaw, fingers picking his nails. I know that notification sound, the sound he set only for Cassidy: His girlfriend, our used to be best friend. I stood up instead, walking to grab the phone, and once I possessed it, I finally noticed Marcus’s outreached hand. I handed his phone. Then he bolted out of the room.

My eyes fixated on the spot where he was sitting down the past hours ago, I pinched the bridge of my nose before I took my items and left the room. Marcus’ twin was standing near the living room window, arms folded as she watched me leave the family room. “He left, said it was Cass.”

I nodded at her, “Guessed,” I muttered before I joined her near the window, looking out where his messily parked car was gone. Amber nudged me by her shoulders before she stepped into the kitchen.

-

I was writing my report when my phone blew up, text messages followed by calls by Marcus: A sight I thought I’d never see again. I answered the first ring, alerted as heard how broken he sound, his sobs overtake his explanation on how he and his girlfriend was breaking up. I rushed to take a jacket and my bags with my keys before leaving my apartment and speeding towards his family house, I noted how his car was parked messily before I rushed into the familiar house and searching for the man.

I didn’t know what to take from the news. It has been just the two of us, growing up together and attending the same daycare and school together. Until Cassidy Johnson entered our life during our last years of elementary school, ever since then it was the three of us, or at least that’s what I thought until they kissed during one of our lunch breaks during secondary school. After that, it became just the two of them with a side of me.

For the rest of the hours, I kneeled in front of Marcus to sooth him, the same way we soothed each other when I had fallen from the monkey bars or when he was teased by his elder brother. Only to be left just like that after a single text from Johnson.

-

Amber nudged me again from my daydream, this time she handed me a can of beer, on her other hand was a bottle of wine, “Take your pick sis.”

“She doesn’t drink,” A voice came from behind us, saying the same sentence I was about to tell Amber. It was Marcus and Amber’s elder brother Xavier, the same guy who loved to bully me and Marcus growing up. Xavier raised an eyebrow as I watched him carefully take the can from his sister and walking towards the kitchen. Amber childishly stuck her tongue out before she pivoted her body and went towards the stairs, “I’ll wait in my bedroom, let’s spill tea!”

I chuckled at her before I looked out the window again, inhaling once before I turned my body, but a hand catches mine. The hand glided from my hand and around my chest, squaring my shoulder before the other arm wrapped around my waist. A deep sigh blew against my neck making me craned my head backwards into something solid, the person then raised their head and instead made me leaned against their chest.

I raised a hand and anchored my fingers around the arm before I turned around, the arms loosening as I do so. As I came face to face Xavier, he dropped his mouth dangerously close to my ear and whispered, “He’s not worth it, Sayang.”

I shuddered at the nickname, turning my head to glance at his eyes before I looked away. He chuckled and hugged me close, arms wrapped around my back as he caressed me at the edge of my waist. Ticklish, I pushed my body into him more and away from his hand, he laughed before letting go of me fully.

I eyed as he took a hold of my hand and pushed the fingers opened, Xavier kissed my palm and then raised a small box of Milo and handed it into my opened hand. Xavier manually closed my fingers around the chocolate milk box and patted my knuckles before he walked away, ensuring his hand glided from my arm, towards my neck and through my hair.

I am fucked.

A/N: To be honest, I am just posting this because I don’t know other medium to post it on. I’ve been writing since I was around 12 just to enhance my english, published a book, went on a hiatus for years and never went back to wattpad. But there are times where I do write just for the sake of therapy. I do have a ‘Book’ in mind about a baby born as a girl but forced to be a boy just for the sake of the ongoing tradition of firstborn male heir. It is a Royal Historic sort of genre so do comment if you guys are interested in knowing more about that.

[warnersister]

Todo mía.

Yandere! Bruno Madrigal x Reader

(Bruno left for the wall in his teens, and returns in his mid-twenties. You are both the same age. In this he isn’t as anxious nor awkward, etc. Just for context with this story).

Warnings: kidnapping, yandere, harassment, mentions of rape / sexual harassment - please do not read if uncomfortable!

From afar, Bruno Madrigal’s obsession with you would be viewed as strange (and somewhat possessive). But to Bruno, it was anything but. Maybe, just maybe - if you delved deep into the secluded mind of Bruno Madrigal, you’d fine a reasonable explanation for this infatuation. But you had to look real close, real, real close.

Woah, woah, woah, scratch that. Let’s start from the beginning, shall we? Just to figure out how this tale came about.

You were Isabela’s friend. Best friend. At least, that’s what Bruno assumed from behind the walls. I mean, you were always there. Always. He first saw you when you were all enjoying a family (& friends) dinner. Bruno had stood while his mother made one of her little speeches, not even paying attention in the slightest and was about to sit down. But then he heard you. “And Gracias, (Y/n), for joining our family dinner.” That’s how it concluded. “My pleasure, Abuela.” Your voice. Dios mío your fucking voice. It sent shivers down his spine. He never heard something so beautiful, so enchanting.

Bruno’s eyes shot open. Were you a part of the family, no. Certainly not. You couldn’t be, not unless a twenty-something year old could grow up in the space of ten years. Impossible, even for a family such as his. His looked through the crack in his wall, mierda you were beautiful. It took a lot for Bruno to say something was beautiful. But you, oh you were something different. Your voice, the smile you gave, the politeness, the way you giggled with Isabela. Oh you were perfect. He couldn’t get enough of you.

Then he began plotting. All the ways to make you his. In his mind it wasn’t weird, no. He had been restricted from pretty much all of civilisation for a decade, so to him this was merely a school boy-crush. But deep down he knew it was something more, something much more intricate. He knew you were called (Y/n). Last name? He was unsure of. Soon-to-be Madrigal, for all he cared. He knew what time you woke up, when you had a sleep-over, and what time you went to sleep.

At first, it was just mindless fantasising. Merely knowing where your crush was currently sometimes was common knowledge and mindlessness. Known without every person. At first, the information prior was all that he knew. At first.

But then, he figured out where you were sleeping: Isabela’s room. Was there a crack in Isabela’s room? Si! A crack on the wall in her room besides her floral sofa was covered by a flowery portrait of herself. He had written it all down. The two of you both went upstairs at eleven, and he gave himself a forty-five minute gap after that, (knowing how much Isabela liked to talk). That forty-five minutes were the most agonising in his life. He bit his nails, tapped his foot, and even cursed at the smashed clock on his wall to speed up.

Then he crept, okay he ran, I mean fucking zoomed, across the walls - over to where he knew his family member slept. Bruno gently pushed the frame from its resting spot, on the girls wall - almost sneezing at the amount of pollen he was suddenly inhaling. He looked around, not seeing you, almost audibly groaning, about to wander around looking for you, when he heard a sneeze. His eyes clicked around, eventually settling on the sleeping figure, on the couch besides the wall.

You moved, sniffing as you wiped your nose across your sleeve as you slept. The sudden movements making the covers shift off of you, revealing the night-wear which had protruded up. Yet not far enough, for Bruno’s liking. The drool dribbling slightly from your lips, your hair messily strewn across the couch’s arm rest, the temptation of your risen shirt, he couldn’t handle it. Nor could he stop the tent that formed in his boxers at the thought of pushing your shirt up a little further, or that drool being for a different reason. He couldn’t take it.

He knew it was wrong, dios mío, it was almost despicable. But jesucristo you were tempting.

He ran back to his semi-permanent living quarters, banging his head against the wall, at both his crudeness, as well as his inability to do anything about the urges he got. At least until he got the spirit to come out of hiding, if that ever was to actually happen. He promised himself, promise you, even - that he’d attempt to restrain himself.

But that sweltering day in mid-August, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Bruno was doing his daily rounds of nothing, having just swiped some food from the previously-empty kitchen. He had just forced a second piece of bread into his mouth, when he heard it. An angelic voice singing loudly. Bruno just couldn’t help himself. He had to investigate. He just had to. He never anticipated that you would be in the shower, mierda he didn’t even know that there was a crack in the tiles.

The food fell from his hands, mouth falling open. The squeaks of rats hungrily helping themselves to the discarded waste of food. You spun around, tilting your head back beneath the rainfall of water, as to not get the soap in your eyes. The room was foggy, filled with the clouds of steam billowing from the shower-head. You hummed softly to the silent rhythm playing in your mind, not knowing if the man watching you.

You ran your fingers through your hair, allowing the water to dowse your body, standing still for a quick moment. He bit his lip to stop a moan. Looking down, he eyed your now-visible chest as you spun. Oh fuck. Now he was the on drooling. One hand over his mouth to stop any noises of arousal, the other palming himself through his clothes.

Even after you were dressed and out of the bathroom, Bruno was still stood there, gobsmacked at the performance of a show you had just unknowingly given him. He could only imagine the things he could, correction - would, do to you. The way he would ruin you. The way he would have you trembling. The way he would have you beginning. Pleading. The things he could, would imagine.

Entering his family’s living-area after dusk, he set up his fortune-reading plot. Leaves placed, sand surrounding. Bruno placed his hands on his knees, closing his eyes - before opening them, with an addition of a bright green light, beaming, creating an emerald glow in the darkened space. The sand swirled vigorously, his surroundings morphed into moving pictures.

It showed you, and him. Bruno carrying you bridal-style into his small home in the walls. He grinned. You can’t change the future. You never can. He cradled the glass in his hands, watching your peaceful figure cling onto his own. He traced your face gently, how it was always meant to be.

“B-Bruno?” The shards smashed against the floor as he dropped it.

It was you. Your heavenly voice. He didn’t even have to turn around, to know that. You had heard stories from certain members of the family, Dolores. Okay, only Dolores, she’s the only one who would speak his name. They had described him as a monster, yet the frail man sat in the floor in front of you seemed anything but.

Now was his chance. “Mi querida, awake so soon?” His eyebrow quirked up, and you took, a slight step back when he arose from his sleeping-position on the floor. You wanted the retract that unspoken statement. He towered over you, an unreadable smirk playing at his lips. The intimidation practically radiating off of him. He hadn’t lost it. You trembled, attempting to reply to the unfamiliar man before tripping on one of the house’s tiles.

His arm soon swooped down to rescue you, reeling you into his chest. You thanked him quickly, trying will all of your might to escape his grip, but only holding you closer. “Going somewhere, paloma?” You looked into his lustful eyes, and gulped. “Back to my, my room.” You confirmed, stumbling over your words mid-sentence. “Your room?” He hummer, to which you nodded - continuing to vigorously attempt your escape. “You can have my room, plenty of space to share.” He purred, stroking your cheek gently. You disagreed politely, assuming, more like hoping that he would free you from your encased prison, which was Bruno Madrigal. “No thank you.” His eyes darkened. “It wasn’t an option, princesa.” His spoke between gritted teeth. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, (Y/n).” Bruno pulled a cloth from his pocket, placing it over your mouth as your fight fell against deaf-ears, although concerning Dolores. Soon, you faltered - unharmed, yet peacefully sleeping in the man’s arms, who ascended the stairs, carrying you in a bridal-style fashion into his own abode. “Todo mía.” He iterated to himself. “Todo mía.”

What was he thinking? He wasn’t, was the short answer. He wasn’t thinking at all. The thought of having you all to himself had clouded his thoughts. Well you had, for the past few months. But now you were his, all his. All to himself. His property. (Y/n) Madrigal.

“Todo mía.”

- Requests are open -

[elysianslove]

please use this ask to elaborate on mattsun’s dick <33

AH YES THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING gotta do this before i start fasting lmfao.  this ended up being sadder than i thought, but it just ends up being kinda sweet and sorta hot. also this was way longer than i intended. post in reference.  

warnings; big dick mattsun, throwing up, pain kink (?), painful sex, insecurities, consensual taping  

okay remember when i mentioned the insecurity thing? let’s dive deeper into that; third years and mattsun are at some sleepover thing. it’s a little before graduation, and they don’t when they’ll see each other next, so they’re trying to make most of the time that’s left. the conversation progresses to sex, as it naturally does, and each of them admits some horrifying or embarrassing sex story. 

iwaizumi had sex with a girl who was extremely kinky and asked him to slap her, but— they don’t call him ace for no reason. 

oikawa lost his virginity to this girl and she started her period halfway through, but he was really young and didn’t realize that was something that could just happen? it wasn’t that he was immature about it. it was more that he fainted. 

hanamaki found out he was allergic to flavored condoms when he lost his virginity, and it was not fun. 

but then it was mattsun’s turn, and they’re all waiting for his embarrassing sex story, till he hits them with, “i’ve never had sex though,” and each and every one of their eyes bulge out of their heads. it’s the last thing they’d been expecting from him, from cool, suave, charming mattsun, but he continues to swear by it. and when they demand the reason — surely you’ve gotten the chance to before? — he admits it to them: “apparently my dick is too big.” and it’s comical to say out loud, because he’s only gotten with a handful of girls, barely any for it to be firm hypothesis. he thinks he’ll one day meet someone that doesn’t think it’s too big, it won’t fit, um i can give you a handjob, if that’s okay? 

all that evidently leads to a dick comparison, because how big can it really be? and once mattsun sees his best friends’ eyes widen at his hardened dick, it sinks in. shit, he really is big, isn’t he? 

“holy shit, mattsun,” makki says, and he’s bashful as he stares at his best friend’s dick. “how would that fit inside anyone?” and mattsun’s already growing soft, tucking his dick back in his pants and moving to wash his hands after kicking makki rightfully in the chest. 

college comes around, and he passes by a thousand girls crying about how the boy from last night’s dick was so small, ugh i wish i had an 8 inch, and the things i’d do to have my guts rearranged. he sees a little light in this tunnel of endless blue balling, and meets a girl, takes her back to his dorm with his lips biting at her neck and her hands fumbling with his belt. as soon as he falls onto the bed, as soon as she straddles him, naked, and moves to slip off his trousers, anxiety meets him halfway again, and he holds in a breath as she pulls at the hem of his pants and takes his boxers with her.

the gasp his half hardening cock pulls out of her is confusing. he can’t tell what to make out of it, but she spits on her palm and grips his hefty cock in her small palm, unable to have her fingertips meet. her eyes are wide, but she seems determined, even tilts her hips forward, but she resorts to, “can i just suck you off?” 

and mattsun thinks alright, that’s an upgrade. 

when she ends up throwing up because she underestimates his size and overestimates herself, mattsun offers her his bathroom to clean up, and grabs her a bottle of water as she leaves. 

he ends up losing his virginity to some masochist, and it’s not very memorable or anything he’d ever imagined it be. it sits high on his list of regrets: he cums way too early, and hurts the masochist too much for it to be enjoyable in any way. but he texts the old third year groupchat and types in “i lost my virginity 😎” and receives the praise he had expected. 

for months to come, he fucks his fist every other night to amateur porn and watches as some camgirls’ cunts swallow inches and inches of plastic cock. he hooks up with some girls only to have them sit on his face and kitten lick at the head of his cock. some swallow a little bit of his cock, some fondle at his balls, but none ever let him fuck them. oikawa sends him links for sex toys, and mattsun feels as pathetic as ever, but he buys a fleshlight anyways and finds purchase in how tight it feels around his cock, how wet and slippery it is, how it properly milks him dry. makki meets him during a break and offers to suck his dick for him, but mattsun flips him off and kicks at his stomach again. 

it’s during his third year that he meets you. 

you’re sweet and charming, , and you have pretty hair, and he likes your style, and you laugh at his stupid jokes. you call him handsome, and you call him pretty, and you compliment his hair when it’s at its curliest. you send him the weirdest memes and tell him it reminds you of him, and you pick him up at obscure times because you’re craving nuggets or ice cream or ramen or licorice. he asks you to be his girlfriend and when you say yes, he blushes so forcefully that he has to scrunch up his face to try and hide it. he lets you meet his friends through a screen, and he buys you matching rings because he enjoys the subtlety of it all, and he orders donuts to be sent to your place  during your exam week. 

being with you is a dream, so much that when he hovers above you, kissing at your lips like he always does and sucking at your neck the way you love, and you murmur that you want him, want all of him, his hands fumble and shake. he tries to hide it, but his breath is shakier and his chest is flushed, his eyes a little hazy. you’re so gentle with him, and he hadn’t known he needed it until you’re straddling him and slowly smoothing your hands down his chest, palming him through his too tight briefs, squeezing softly. 

when your hands reach for his briefs, his own snap to your wrist, and he dares to beg, “please stay,” and you kiss him in response. your breath hitches at the sight of him, and your hand shakes when you spit on it and grip at his cock, but despite your initial hesitance you don’t falter. 

you stroke tentatively at his cock, squeezing him tightly, and fall closer to him, hovering your lips by his as you ask of him, “stretch me— stretch me for you.” 

there’s only one word to describe everything mattsun had been feeling in that moment, and it’s overwhelmed, but it’s somehow in the most positive way. he sits up straight, keeping you on his lap. his fingers find your dripping cunt and he pushes one, two, three, four fingers inside of you. he makes you cum twice, fingers curled and rapidly thrusting into you, other hand occupied with your sloppy clit and mouth latched onto your nipple. you praise him and thank him and cry for him and writhe in his hold as he pleasures you, and when you’re breathless and limp in his arms, he waits for the ball to drop, for you to give into your anxiety and hesitance. 

except you don’t. 

you lift yourself up on trembling knees, hands settled on and gripping his shoulders, and with teary eyes, you say, no, you beg, “make it fit.” 

he has stars in his eyes as he grips his cock tightly with one hand, the other holding you to him by your waist. it’s slow, it’s painfully slow, but mattsun has never treasured time as much as in that moment. he takes in everything, from the way your body tenses at the first intrusion when his tip presses against your hole, to the small gasps and moans as you take more and more of him in, at the sweat that beads at your temple and that rolls between your breasts. he marvels at the heave of your chest and the roll of your tummy as you curve in yourself, and he revels in the press of your lips to his, in the pull your arms looping around his neck and pressing his chest flush to yours. 

he does cum too early, but you don’t chastise him. you only continue to ride his soft cock, his cum messily dribbling out, and he ignores the sting from his sensitivity in favor of rubbing at your clit, sending you over the edge eventually. 

he texts the old third years groupchat that night again, with you sleeping soundly by his side, comfortable beneath his blankets, “why didn’t you guys tell me sex was this good? fake friends,” and sends a picture of him shirtless, sweaty, and with a post-sex flush to his cheeks and messy curls, with the middle finger. 

maybe you shouldn’t have let him have a taste of you, because he fucks you in bed the next morning, sleep still settled deep in your bones, and then he fucks you in the shower, and then he eats you out splayed out on his dinner table. he videotapes you sucking him off, with your permission, and watches it when you’re too far out of reach. he sends you pictures after a shower, gripping his cock through the briefs he’d quickly slipped in, hair wet and curly and matted to his forehead, skin damp and glistening. and when you react so positively, he blushes, to his dismay. you meet his friends and they joke about how you’re still alive, but you brush them off and tell them you’ve never felt more satisfied. 

with every single time he watches his cock sink into your warm, tight, sloppy cunt, and every time he watches you swallow around him, and every time he makes you cry and leaves you braindead, leaves you mindless and begging for more, his confidence grows. so much until he learns to be cocky about it, so much that when he barely preps you and pushes into you, he shivers at the way you whine and tense up, at the way you flinch and lightly thrash. because you’re a good girl, aren’t you? always take my cock so well, don’t you? nobody but you, nobody like you. 

and it’s true; it’s nobody but you for him. in every single way.

hello what the fuck am i doing. i did not think this was gonna escalate like this hfskjfns but anyways, big dick mattsun for the win <3 

[iadoreneteyam]

Whore mothers and Sweet Frosting

(Just a heads up Billy and Stu are about 13 and 14 years old here. I made Billy older than you and Stu just because.) 

Warnings- Brief mention of underage drinking and using drugs, mentions of cheating, adults having sex, cursing, irresponsible adults, uh- I think that’s it, oh! and me not knowing how to end a story. 

    “Merry Christmas!” Your mother shouted and happily threw her arms in the air when Mrs. Loomis opened the door. She was already tipsy before she even entered the party, downing bottles in the passenger seat of her new boyfriend’s ride wasn’t never the best idea. Oh, if only she would learn from her mistakes. Mrs. Loomis hugged your mother and her boy toy. 

“And it’s always a pleasure to meet Princess L/N.” She bowed. Princess L/N was a joke your mother had made about you being a brat only to find you, Billy and Stu playing that exact game. You guys were 7 and 8 then, you think Mrs. Macher took a picture. It was around the Macher mansion some where. 

“Though Mrs. Prescott and Mrs. Riley are here I’m afraid their kids are not.” You wanted to visibly sigh at the sentence. Without Sidney and Tatum you were stuck with doofus #1 and #2. It seemed over the years they never matured like they should’ve, still stuck in their eight year old bodies. “She’ll be alright.” You mother brushed off any concerns and sent you to the kitchen. 

Just who you wanted to see, dumb and dumber. It seemed they were struggling to build a gingerbread house. You had to admit it wasn’t a simple task, but it wasn’t the hardest either. “Y/n!” Stu was the first to notice you and engulf you in a hug out of the two boys.

Stu had his growth spurt around 11, while you and Billy were stuck being the same height. To think that either boy weren’t even done growing yet was incredible. “Hi Y/n!” Billy was still trying to put together his gingerbread house, licking white decorative frosting off his fingers. 

“Your not gonna put it together if keep eating your cement.” You gently pushed Billy to the side grabbing the piping bag from him. You continued to put together the house with ease, out of all the gingerbread houses you had put together this had to be the easiest, yet Macher and Loomis seemed to struggle. 

“My mom brought one for you two Y/n.” Stu handed you a gingerbread making kit. Judging by the picture on the photo and the monstrosity in front of you, Billy and Stu were trying to recreate that. Pieces were out of place, candy sliding off the sides, and a big heaping pile of white frosting messily spread across the roof, the exact opposite of the picture. 

You unwrapped your kit with glee, the sheer thought of beating these losers in something as simple a gingerbread house contest was already the best Christmas gift anyone could ever as for. Despite the fact that they were basically done. 

You began building your house carefully, though it took a couple tries to make the sides sit up on the base, it was still fairly easy. Once the house was basically set up it was time for decorating. You peaked over the top of your gingerbread house and analyzed your opponent. Still idiots. Their house was nothing but a pile of frosting and gingerbread. From the looks of it, they had given up. 

The roof was caved in, bite marks littered the house. It was ugly, honestly the work of a kindergartner could be considered a work of that of Van Gogh after seeing their piece. Whilst yours wasn’t the best, it wasn’t their level of bad. 

Of course yours was better than theirs, but that doesn’t mean your workspace was the cleanest either. Frosting and loose candy littered the surrounding area of your gingerbread house, your hands weren’t any exception. You tried to lick off the frosting and your face contorted. The frosting was sweet, sickeningly sweet, you might get diabetes with that one taste. 

“What’s up with you?” Billy continued to lick frosting of his hands, Stu was doing the same. “I don’t see you guys can eat this shit.” You rushed to the sink to wash your hands. “Don’t Cuss, Y/n! Damn!” Your mother scolded you. If she was sober you would’ve gotten way more of a scolding. Maybe something along the lines of “You’re embarrassing me!” and a slight pinch would come after. 

“Hey Billy!” Billy’s father whisper-yelled to him from the kitchen entrance. “If your mother asks where I am tell her I’m getting more beer with Mrs. Prescott, alright?” Before anyone could answer they both creeped out the back door. 

Though you guys were kids, you guys were 13. Thirteen year olds knew about sex, cheating, even Stu and Billy had indulged in their fair share of beer maybe even drugs now and then, but never too often. 

Mrs. Prescott and Mr. Loomis were definitely going to have sex. 

[parkers-gal]

omg i love your styles!reader fics (and your writing in general, you’re so talented) !! can you do blurb where tom and styles!reader have been married for like a year or two and they tell their families that they’re expecting and then maybe flash forward to when the baby is born and harry cries meeting them?

combined requests: hi can u do a dad tom and reader. and they have a baby shower for the reader. I love all your story’s btw:)

wc: 2k

requests are open (love you // hope u like this)

—

“Are you excited?”

“I’m nervous.” You let out a measly laugh while Tom’s left hand moved from gripping your thigh to hovering above your lower abdomen.

You weren’t showing yet, of course. It had only been a few weeks since the two of you had found out. Two years into your marriage and the two of you had discussed to start trying for a family. You’d never told anyone that, so you expected the announcement to be quite a surprise for everyone.

Tom was a very private guy, especially growing up in the public eye. His family was off limits, and the minute you came into the picture, that trait only amplified. Now that you were married, he’d been a bit more private about his marriage life, especially around his family. It was a weird dynamic at first, because Tom is a very open man who loves his family very much.

But he also knows his family isn’t a private one when it comes to the media, and involving you would mean every aspect of your life would be outed. And he didn’t want that, so the two of you weren’t ridiculously close with either of your families.

It was a weird detail, really. One you didn’t really notice until a year after your marriage.

It was even weirder, however, that there happened to be an entire week where both your family and Tom’s family were available for a lunch date. Harry was usually writing an album or prepping for a tour, and you were glad he kept himself busy. Tom and his younger brother would usually be working on a project together, so having everyone home was exciting and nerve wracking.

“They’re all gonna know we’ve had sex.”

“I think they knew before,” He chuckled at your reaction, mouth ajar while you slapped his upper arm playfully.

“Who’s fault is that?”

“Sure, blame the guy who knocks you up.”

“Okay, mister.” You shuffle his curls, which are arranged messily for a Saturday.

Fifteen minutes later and the two of you are walking into the Holland household. You can already hear your brother’s minged shouts and hollers about whatever conversation he must be having with Harry, Tom’s brother. You’re quite certain you’ve never seen such a British interaction.

“The all-star couple is finally here!”

“Hey!” Harry drags out the end syllables while he brings you into a sloppy hug. “Baby sis.”

“Don’t ever call me that again,” You laugh at his tone, the words foriegn for him.

“Yeah, that was weird as fuck the minute I said it.”

You glanced over to Tom, who was hugging his brothers and his mother. You grinned as you made your way over to them, embracing them just as he had before linking your hand with Tom’s and sitting in a patio chair beside his.

“How is everything in your married-life?”

“Low-key, really.” You admitted, it was true. The first few months had been exhausting yet fulfilling, but now you felt yourself settling down for the long run. Tom could feel it too, especially with the unannounced baby Holland on the way.

“Yeah, mum,” He bit into a snickerdoodle. “Not much going on for us.”

“Didn’t you just wrap that upcoming film?”

“The London one, yeah.” He nods along and you get lost in conversation with Sam and Elysia. They’ve been together for quite awhile, and you suspect their own wedding might be within the near future.

You’re about an hour into the lunch when you make eye contact with Tom, communicating without words. He stands up, wiping his hands off on a napkin before pulling you up.

“We have… some new to share.”

Eyes glance up to the only two people standing at the table, and Harry (your brother) swallows a bite of bread before encouraging you. “Well, get on with it then.”

Your mom whips the back of his head, and you laugh. Gemma chuckles at them before glancing at you inquisitively. You’re very open with her, but from the look on your face, she knows this is something nobody else knows of.

“We are very happy to announce….” You start it, but urge Tom to finish what you cannot.

“That the newest member of the Holland-Styles clan will be coming by the end of this year.”

You watch as mouth’s drop open in the final realization at what this means. Gemma sits back in her chair, left hand above her chest, against her shirt with wide eyes and mouth ready to catch flies. You smile in excitement, and Nikki and your mom stand quickly for hugs, pushing their chairs back as they scrape against the concrete of the backyard patio.

Tom’s hand is linked to yours still, and when you momentarily let go, you feel almost abandoned and lost without him.

After a few rounds of accepting ‘congratulations!’you realize your brother has yet to move from his seat. When you glance at him after everyone’s settled back down, he’s looking in his lap. Gemma catches on, and so does Sam. Eventually, all eyes are on the Styles boy.

“Har?” You speak hesitantly in the tense situation. “You okay?”

When he picks his head up, he sniffles and you notice his red eyes. You jutt a lip out as you hear a few of the girls vocally “aw” at his state. He stands quickly, chair scraping just as everyone else’s had, and he makes his way over you.

You get lost in his embrace, hugging him tightly. He’s still crying slightly as he whispers a few words into your ears. He’s emotional upon realizing he’ll be an uncle in just a few months, emotional upon realizing you’ve grown up so much from the little girl that used to rub frosting on his nose and dimples.

You rub his back soothingly, and when you separate he gives you a weak smile. He maneuvers around you to hug your husband, who chuckles when he’s embraced roughly, tightly. Their hands are each on each other’s back, and a memory flashes in your mind, one of your wedding, when Harry cried so much you had to ask someone to buy more tissues.

You’re nostalgic about today’s encounter, and you don’t know what to expect when the baby really does come.

**

You’re seven months along, baby bump big as ever. Tom’s almost as protective as Tessa now that you’re so far along. As far as cliches go, you’ve just arrived to a basically surprise baby shower. You know it must’ve taken Tom weeks to plan something like this, and it must’ve been even harder to keep it a secret from you.

You kiss his forehead when you finally see why you’re at his mom’s house. Both yours and his moms are conversing in the corner after greeting the two of you. There’s a table of presents beside a snack area. You can see a few of your craving-snacks, and you hug Tom as best you can. He kisses your temple.

There’s not many people here, only your closest friend circle and your family members. You see Harry and Gemma in the corner, and make your way over to your siblings with a smile. You're swollen with the baby bump, so you’re not moving as fast, but you’re just as excited.

“Baby on the way,” You announce as you hug them. “Thanks for doing this, guys.” You blush as you gesture to everything around you. Harry shrugs with a cocky smile, and Gemma smiles lovingly. You see Sam and Elysia heading towards you, and Gemma makes her way to the snack table for some lemonade.

“Y/N!” Elysia drags out your name in excitement, hugging you carefully. “How is everything?”

“Ugh,” You groan jokingly, a hand rubbing up and down your bump. “Exhausting, really. She’s a handful.”

She smiles, and Sam’s hand stays on the small of her back as she leans into him. He excuses himself momentarily, and you lean in close to Elysia when he’s gone.

“Are you two engaged?”

She looks at you with a blush before shaking her head. “No… but I feel like he’s going to propose soon.”

You squeal and try your hardest not to cry. “Man, these hormones are crazy.” She laughs, nodding along. Unbeknownst to you, Sam had made his way over to the two older brothers of the Holland family. They’re sipping beer by the patio sliding door.

“Hey, guys.” The boys look up at the sound of Sam’s soft voice. He’s almost hushed, and they use context to realize he looks a bit serious.

“What’s up?” Harry’s hand pats his shoulder as if to comfort his anxious state.

Same turns his head to look at Elysia, who’s across the yard talking to you. “I think I’m going to propose soon.” Tom nearly chokes on his drink. “What? Man, that’s amazing!” He’s whispering out, breathing erratically from excitement.

Harry stares out, blinking in surprise. He’d seen in coming, but that would never amount to the realization that the Holland boys are growing up. “Do you have a ring or something?” They huddle close as Sam brings them closer in response to Harry’s question.

He pulls out a velvet box from an inner-jacket pocket. When he opens the case, they gasp in awe.

“Man,” Tom pats his back again, lovingly. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you, man. I’m nervous.” He wipes his hands on his thighs as he hides the ring in his clothes again.

“Don’t worry.” Harry glances over at the two of you. “She loves you so much. You’re gonna get the happy ending.”

They continue talking until your mum, Anne, announces it’s time to open a few presents. You reunite with Tom for the first time since arriving, trying not to come off as too flustered, but you know you are. You know you’ll cry — and dramatically too, because your hormones are off the radar — if anyone gives you a really meaningful present.

You open a few, some just basic cleaning supplies for diaper-care, others range from cute clothes to bedding sheets. When you open Harry’s gift, it’s a CD case with a picture of the Styles family on the cover.

When you open the case, you see a message in print. He’d written you a few songs, for Tom and the baby too. You nearly burst into tears as you stand up as quickly as possible. Tom helps you stand while you make your way over to your older brother, hugging him as if your life depends on it.

“You’re gonna be a great uncle, Harry.”

***

When they said the birth process was painful, they didn’t mention how much. Tom fainted about an hour and a half into it, after glancing where he shouldn’t have. You laughed while the doctors got him standing again. He was by your side for the entire time, and when you finally gave your last push, the two of you heard the wales of your sweet baby girl.

“Did so well, love.” You’d heard him whisper while he kissed your sweaty forehead.

Seven hours later, you were sitting up after having just slept for a good amount of time. Scarlet was sleeping calmly in your arms. Tom was squeezed onto the bed next to you, arms carefully wrapped around your exhausted body. He’d cried four times already.

“Ma’am, your families are here.” A nurse had come into the room with a small smile before opening the door wider to allow visitors in.

Harry and Gemma were first up. They’d been here the longest, having received a call when they were closer to the hospital than everyone else.

You glanced up when you heard Harry gasp. “She’s beautiful.” He whispered, tip toeing over to the bed, seating himself in one of the chairs.

“C- can I hold her?” You nod, handing him the small child. He graciously takes her in his tattoo covered arms, holding her head cautiously while he coos at her. She wakes momentarily to giggle at the new arms. He visibly pouts, and when you notice water on Scarlet, you grow worried.

But all of that is washed down the drain when you see Harry’s red, teary eyes. He smiles happily, even through the tears, and you breathe out a laugh through your own cries.

“She looks just like you.”

You wipe a tear away, reaching out to hold one of his hands.

“Just like you.”

[onmyyan]

Hi its me again. I love your writing and the fact that there isn't as much abuse like there is in others. It reminds me of old yandere stories were it was genuine lovesickness. Anyway, how do you think jjba yanderes would react to a darling that is taller and more muscular than them by quite a bit. You can do whoever you like I don't mind.

A/N: Omg ily🥺 it means a lot you said all that because I really love this genre it’s my comfort trope anyway thank you for the request n I hope ya like it!! Kira should be a trigger warning in an of itself but dw he’s just weird, not mean. Mentions of his past ‘girlfriends’, a curse word or two, lil suggestive in someplace’s Mista murks a few people, tw//gun violence

Characters: Pt2 Joseph, Josuke, Kira, Mista

Joseph was used to looking down on people, standing at a proud 6’5” he was literally and figuratively knocked on his ass when he’d first laid eyes on you, his immediate thought was you were a forgotten pillarman coming from nowhere to get revenge for your masters only to quickly realize you were just a stallion. You were strong enough to put him on his back after one too many cheeky comments. Unafraid to speak your mind and keep him in check, You would stare down at him with that mind melting smirk, all too aware of his frustrations, you assumed he was just being a man, ashamed to be outclassed by someone other than himself, oh honey how wrong you were. You enjoyed teasing the behemoth of a man as no one else really could, at least not as well as you did, throughout your little jabs and snark he always had a retort, a response on the tip of his tongue, eager to do this dance of yours until one of you broke, to you he was a way too cocky dangerously self assured pretty boy who was entertainingly easy to rile up, but to Joseph, you were his everything. Someone he could proudly take home to Granny Erina once he’d finally tamed you. He had a plan, a three step plan to steal your heart just as you’d done his, and this little game of who could annoy the other the most was just step 1. “It’s been fun JoJo but you’re gonna have to find someone else to bother.” You’d jokingly said one day out of the blue, an odd friendship had formed through the month you’d been in town and it felt wrong to leave without notice, an act of kindness you’d learn to regret. “Is this one of your famous jokes (Y/n)? Not so funny to play with a mans heart like that I nearly believed you.” He finished with a scoff, his signature smirk not reaching his eyes. “It’s true Joseph, my flight leaves tomorrow, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye, because as much as we fuck around you’re pretty fun to hang out with.” Your sincerity almost made him feel bad about rushing the next few steps of his plan, he’d have to cram months of planning into a night but he’d accomplished more with less time on his side. He huffed, his grin stretched wide across his handsome features. “Then we outta make tonight count eh?” A thick arm was tossed around your neck, you had to bend awkwardly for this to be possible much to your amusement. “Okay you weirdo, whatever you say.” You let him lead you around town with a grin, unaware you’d be missing that plane, and any other one you tried to take without him.

Josuke watched you eat with the dopiest grin on his face, he’d spent an extra hour in the mirror this morning in preparation for your first official date! Well you didn’t exactly know it it was a date and Okayasu was eating rather messily beside you two but still! You’d actually agreed to come to Toni’s with him! You’d been an enigma since you transferred to the bizarre town, choosing to keep to yourself, and despite the intimidating height and mass you possessed, he saw through your act in seconds. There was a huge softie under all that muscle, he’d watched you enough to know this as a fact, you were a gem and he was intent on showing you his appreciation and adoration for the rest of his days, a vow he’d silently taken the day you’d stolen his heart, the moment was brief in reality but it lasted forever in his mind, you smiled at him in passing, he could feel time slow down, everyone around you faded in the background, a backdrop to the beginning of your story. He could imagine telling your kids how you’d met, something about the way you’d stare down at him, eyes sharp and attentive, like you truly listened when people spoke, your laugh was loud when it was real and every time he heard it he felt 10 years added to his lifespan. At the same time that icky feeling at another person making you laugh was conflicting, he’d never been in love before but he suddenly understood why his mom had never given up on his dad, love was weird but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’d accidentally snapped your chopsticks laughing too hard at a joke he’d tossed out, your face scrunched in embarrassment before chuckling at yourself and switching to a fork, his stand came out on its own, pocketing the shards to fix later, a new item for his ever growing collection, what a cute little memento from your first date! His thoughts swirled happily with the stories you’d be telling your kids. Thankfully neither of you noticed his little pickpocket moment, dangerous plans forming as he stared at you with those misleadingly soft puppy dog eyes.

Kira could die in this moment, happily I might add, as your firm but soft hand was wrapped oh so deliciously around his throat threatening to crush it with ease at the slightest movement. He’d been watching you for a while now, the longest he’d ever spent on someone he didn’t plan to kill, it become sort of hobby he’d picked up recently, the morally upsetting activity bringing peace to his day to day, usually he used his stand to carefully observe your routine, eager to learn all he could about his future spouses likes and desires, but he was getting greedy. Of course he could always introduce himself but he resisted, knowing there was a time and place to get exactly what he wanted. He liked to think he knew everything about you by now, your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, your love for cats, but he didn’t anticipate this. You were much more observant than he’d given you credit for, while you couldn’t see his stand you could sense yourself being watched, and seeing the large blonde lurking indiscriminately in the crowds throughout the day was enough to set you off. So you trailed off into the less crowded parts of town quickly entering an alleyway, he followed in pure confusion only to be roughly slammed into the wall, his stand came out on reflex but simply stared at his attacker, it seemed almost confused as what to do. “Why the hell are you following me pretty boy?” His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your fingers tightening, god he’d never felt this rush of exhilaration, none of his past ‘girlfriends’ could pull such an illicit reaction from him with a simple touch. When he didn’t answer you simply scoffed and tossed him aside like it was nothing. You left with a threat to stay out of your sight, yet all he could do was smile, the faint imprint of your fingers burned in his skin deliciously, how lucky could one man get?

Mista observed you with hungry eyes. His stare was unapologetically locked on your form. He made no intention to hide his attraction for you. The day you’d joined Buccarati’s crew was the day his world flipped. He assumed his new teammate would be no one to fuck with based on what Bruno told him about your stand, but when you walked in? Needing to bend down slightly just to enter the doorway had him sweating in his seat. He didn’t know what to say as he watched you happily interact with his fellow teammates, immediately you blended with the group, but all that was running through his mind were all the fun things you could do with those muscles. He usually stayed silent around you, not out of dislike as one would assume from his piercing gaze, but fear of accidentally voicing one of those nasty thoughts kept him quiet. You didn’t seem to mind though, always including him in the conversation, you even understood his very valid fear of that dreaded number! How could god plop such a perfect person in his lap and expect him to not do anything about it? Alas, Bruno had specifically told them not to make you uncomfortable with any flirting so he bit his tongue. Your aura was calming, a contrast to your powerful stand, speaking of, he couldn’t get his under control. Whenever they could Sex Pistols was out and all over you. They climbed and clamored for your attention, thankfully you didn’t seem to mind, always entertained their antics when you could, even giving each one a small peck when they wouldn’t let you leave for a mission without Mista, to say he was done for was an understatement, it took one mission going foul for his resistance to snap. His stand moved faster than it ever had, piercing the skulls of the idiots who brought you pain. He left the last one slowly bleeding out kneeling down to wipe the matted hair from your forehead, “You okay baby? Don’t worry honey I’ll make the bastard hurt.” He spoke not breaking eye contact, his hand pointed behind him, grip steady as he unloaded in the poor fool who thought it was a good idea to make you bleed, the wound was small, not even deep enough to trouble Giorno but that didn’t matter to Guido, any slight against you was disrespecting the future parent of his children, and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t defend your honor?

[bobohu4eva]

Sweet Tooth (Part 3)

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Royalty AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, mutual pining

Summary: Life as the palace baker got a lot more interesting after catching the devastatingly cute prince sneaking around your kitchen.

WC: 5.1k

Tag List: @wooya1224 @dixnysustae @bbhile @geniusloey @blahblahblah-boo @leave-me-in-the-summertime @baekyeonoreo @cupreoussyzygy @nana-banana

Masterlist

Baekhyun stayed true to his word. He kept you company almost every other day, usually just watching, talking, and snacking on whatever leftovers there would be.

It had taken several more visits for you to truly start opening up to him. Luckily his looks and his silliness balanced each other quite well, making him less and less intimidating the more you saw of him and the more he got comfortable with you as well.

You were surprised when he told you that he was actually a couple years older than you. It wasn’t that you found him immature, but he just had that optimistic boyishness to him that made him appear much more youthful.

Sometimes he would say things that worried you. Usually remarks about his family or his status as a prince. He never wanted to talk about it past those fleeting remarks though, quickly putting back on a smile and asking you about whatever you were baking that day. He seemed like the kind of person who would rarely let any negative emotions show, pushing them down and making jokes to try to make it seem like it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Sometimes you thought about pushing it, and trying to get him to talk to you about it. He was your friend, and you worried about him. But on the other hand, he was the prince. You had no right to try and force your way into his family’s business like that. He would come to you if he really needed you, you hoped at least.

You didn’t get nervous about his visits anymore. You had actually started to look forward to them quite a bit. He was a true friend. An annoyingly beautiful one.

In a way, you got used to that too. Of course you still couldn’t help being attracted to him, but you were able to fight it better now and act much more normal. You had really tried, and didn’t have a single mess up in front of Baekhyun since your tart accident. You just had to try a little extra hard when he was around, but that was okay. You took it as a challenge. After years of always doing the same thing having him there was still a nice way to spice things up.

You knew you had a crush, you were just learning to deal with it better.

Today was particularly busy. All morning you’d been preparing for some kind of event and Baekhyun just sat on his little stool across the table from you as you worked, occasionally asking if he could try something or why you did a certain thing. He knew that on busy days, it was better to stay out of your way. He always offered to help, insisting that you could just tell him what to do at any time, but that felt too weird.

“Are you sure you don’t want any help? I feel bad just sitting here.”

This was probably the busiest he’d ever seen you. It must’ve been a pretty big event you were preparing for and you had no time to waste, trying to get things done as quickly and carefully as possible.

“Don’t feel bad.”

First it was the sugar, then the flour. You ran out. You needed to go haul two giant bags up the stairs from the basement. You groaned.

“What is it?” He asked.

“I just have to grab new bags of flour and sugar.” You yelled over your shoulder as you made your way towards the stairs to the basement.

He followed you and you rolled your eyes, pretty certain you knew what was coming next, and it would not be good for your already weak heart.

As expected, he immediately scolded you for not asking him to just help out and ended up carrying both bags up the stairs for you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want the help, it was really nice, but especially things like this that involved heavy lifting made you feel too much like some sort of damsel in distress and the fact that he felt such a need to always help out only made your crush worse and worse. It would’ve been easier to handle if he wasn’t always so nice and considerate.

“Why do you always do that?” He asked once you were back at your work table.

“Do what?”

“You never ask me for help even if you know it’s something I could do more easily than you. You always try to do it yourself until I notice it and go to help. You know sometimes I really worry that you just never get jars open by yourself if I’m not here.”

You grinned at his usual antics, “You know Baekhyun, I did this for years all on my own before you decided to pop in on me, I can handle myself.”

He shot you an accusing look. “So you’re saying that before I showed up, the jars would magically open themselves? No assistance needed? Or when you had to get one of those giant bags out of the basement? They would just float up the stairs? Come on, Creampuff, don't lie to me.”

It was surprising to you how much he seemed to like that nickname, and he especially liked to use it when he was teasing you.

Of course he was right, there were times when you couldn’t open a jar or there was an especially large bag of sugar that you couldn’t get up the stairs on your own. But he wasn’t the only one there to help. “Well I can also just go next door to the cooks and ask one of the guys there to do it for me too.”

His jaw seemed to tense before he spoke up again. “But you ask them for help, you never ask me though.”

You swallowed. That was also true, but it wasn’t for whatever reason he probably thought, asking him for help seemed like a boundary you didn’t want to cross, for a number of reasons. For one, he was the prince, and therefore you worked for him, not the other way around. It also made you feel too strange with how bad your crush had gotten, you didn’t want to seem like you were prying for his attention so you always tried as hard as you could to do things by yourself first. But he probably shouldn’t know about the second reason.

“Well I work for you, you don’t work for me. It’s not your job to come here and help me carry things and open jars.”

“Don’t remind me.” He mumbled. “It’s not their job either.”

He seemed oddly down after that but you didn’t have any time to dwell on it with how busy you were so you let him be. You decided to just focus on the task at hand, and let him eat some leftover icing so he wouldn’t talk so much. As much as you appreciated it on boring days, Baekhyun could be pretty damn chatty and on days like this one where there was a lot to do it could be a bit taxing having to talk to him too, no matter how much you enjoyed his company. If he was just another guy it would’ve been a different story but having to focus on talking to him and not saying anything dumb on top of all your work was a lot. Despite being much more comfortable with him now, he was still your friend that you were growing more and more attracted to, to the point where even just saying it was a crush seemed like an understatement.

You felt that disgustingly sweet, heart fluttering sensation that had been plaguing you for weeks now when you focused your attention back to him, watching as he scooped up icing with his finger before sticking it into his mouth.

Crush wasn’t a good enough word. You felt stupidly, helplessly infatuated, to the point where just watching him messily eat his icing had you working way too hard to fight the smile that was forcing its way to your lips.

Unfortunately Baekhyun caught on to these things quickly. Unlike you, he had nothing better to do in that kitchen than watch you as you worked, so he noticed every smile, every eye roll, and every time he would make you blush.

You assumed he knew, he just had to by now, with how bad you were at hiding how he made you feel. You’d accepted that, and that he didn’t see you the same way. You were just friends and he probably thought it was cute that you had a little crush on him, the silly little baker girl who liked the prince too much. But you knew it was best to keep it at that.

“Why are you smiling like that?” He asked as he once again licked a scoop of icing off his finger.

You shook your head, still smiling and looking down at what you were working on.

“I wish my mom would smile like that when I eat too instead of telling me I’m an embarrassment.”

He sounded far too lighthearted as he said it, as usual. It had been bothering you for weeks now. You knew you probably shouldn’t, but you asked anyway.

“Baekhyun, you don’t have to tell me anything, because it’s not my business anyway, but why do you say things like that? Sometimes I really worry about you.”

You had stopped kneading your dough, eyes remaining fixed on the soft mass beneath your hands, not trusting yourself to look up at him.

“You worry about me?”

Still looking down at your hands, you gave him a small nod.

“You don’t have to worry about me, I’m a big boy, I’ve been dealing with this my whole life.”

When you finally looked up and met his gaze he was giving you a soft smile, although you could see the hint of sadness in his cute droopy eyes.

“I just want you to know that you can talk to me if you need someone.” The words came out too quietly, but you meant it. It made you sad to hear him say such things and you wanted to be there for your friend.

All the sadness left his face when his cheeks pulled up into a grin, his eyes turning into the cutest half-moon shapes. “Aww, you really do worry about me.”

These were the type of things that made you so sure that he knew your little secret. His teasing you when you got flustered around him, and now this too. It almost felt a bit cruel at this point, that he knew how you felt and he still teased you about it like it was nothing. “You’re so mean.” You pouted, returning your attention back to your dough.

“How am I mean? I remember when we first met you thought I was the nicest.”

“You say stuff like that and then when I get worried you make fun of me for it.” You wanted to add something along the lines of ‘You also get a kick out of my stupid unrequited crush on you’ but you held your tongue. “Am I supposed to listen to you say those things and just not care?”

His brows furrowed at your question, and he paused for a minute.

“I didn’t realize you would care, at least not so much.”

Was he really this blind? This clueless?

“Of course I care Baekhyun, you said it yourself, we’re friends. Friends care when someone says things like that.”

“Oh..” His face had shifted into something you hadn’t seen before. “Then I’m sorry I worried you.”

You weren’t quite sure what it was, but he seemed genuinely taken aback by what you were telling him. It didn’t make any sense to you considering how obvious it was that you liked him, but you couldn’t exactly just say that either.

“You don’t need to feel bad. Like I said, I want to be able to help if you need someone to talk to. I’m here for you.”

You smiled when you saw him smile, his emotions rubbing off on you so easily with how much you cared for him.

“Thank you, y/n. I appreciate that a lot, really.”

As sweet as the moment was, you still had a lot of work to do. You gave him another smile and got back to what you were doing, and he stayed quiet as well. Eventually Baekhyun had somewhere else he needed to be and he excused himself and left, after sweetly thanking you again for your friendship and your kindness. There was so much about his actions that you didn’t understand, but you wanted to learn, to get to know him better and to really figure the guy out.

A couple hours after Baekhyun left you were finally done for the day, and as you were leaving the kitchen you found a small note where you always hung up your apron at the end of the day.

“Meet me in the garden at half past midnight, at the bench where you like to sit and read. That’s a royal order. - B”

~

You checked the clock again before slipping out of your room as quietly as possible, heart pounding in your chest in anticipation. Why Baekhyun had asked you to meet him so late was beyond you, and hundreds of possibilities, good and bad, flooded your mind with you powerless to stop it. The nervous giddyness you felt before he would show up at the bakery was nothing compared to this. What if you got caught? What would you say? What if he got caught? Or worst of all, if both of you were caught?

Despite your nerves, you had to go. Standing him up would feel too awful anyway, since you really did want to see him. And either way, you couldn’t disobey a royal order. You had never interacted with him outside your little bakery space, where people were popping in and out all the time and there was no real privacy for the two of you to talk about more serious matters.

You tried to walk through the halls as quietly as possible, unsure of if and where there were guards. Luckily it wasn’t too far from where you stayed to the gardens and you were already outside of the castle, feeling the warm spring air on your skin as you made your way towards your favorite spot to read.

Despite the darkness you could already make out the silhouette of your friend as he sat on the bench waiting for you. You smiled looking around at your surroundings. You had never been in the garden at night before, but the soft glow from the castle over the lush spring flowers in the dim light was breathtaking.

As you got closer you saw him stand up, and start walking towards you, meeting you halfway. He kept getting closer, and you expected him to stop but before you could fully process what he was doing, both of his arms were wrapped around you in a tight hug and he held you close.

For a second you stopped breathing completely, but after a couple seconds when reality sunk in you were able to catch your breath. Baekhyun was hugging you. And it wasn’t just some wimpy half assed side hug either, both of his arms were wrapped firmly around your back as he held you against his chest. Your whole body suddenly felt very hot.

“Baekhyun?” You said softly, bringing your arms up and around him as well.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” You heard him whisper.

If your heart rate had been a bit high earlier already, you were surely in danger now. And with your chest pressed against his own, of course he noticed, he always did.

You pulled back but his hands stayed on your shoulders and he looked down at you with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just jumpy, I was really scared of getting caught on my way down here.” You lied, trying to avoid eye contact with the close proximity of your faces. He moved his thumb, gently running it over your collarbone and you felt his eyes on you when it made you gasp slightly.

“Aww poor Creampuff.” He cooed, making you pout back at him. “After midnight there’s only one guard left outside the castle, and he stays on the other side, near the main gates, not back here in the gardens. We’re totally safe, I promise.”

You tried to act like that helped reassure you but there were still a thousand other little things running through your mind about him. You decided you just had to start asking the man if you wanted answers.

“Baekhyun, why did you ask me to meet you here? Isn’t this a bit foolish?”

He grabbed your hand and led you to sit down on the bench next to him. “Maybe it is, but since we’re friends I think there are some things I want you to know.”

You had been so caught up in your own worries that you hadn’t even noticed how nervous he looked too. When you sat down with him you were surprised when his hand stayed firmly intertwined with yours. His hand was soft and warm and felt just right holding yours.

He looked down at the ground and the hand that held your own rested between you on the bench.

“Baekhyun?”

He was the one acting shy now. This beautiful person who was also so far above you in so many ways, seemed genuinely nervous.

“I’m sorry if this is strange for you, I’m not quite sure what to say, I’ve never had someone I can talk about these things with.”

He was still looking nervously down at his feet so you decided to scoot a bit closer and face your body towards his. When you were looking at him, and gently squeezed his hand which was still holding yours, he finally looked up at you.

“What things? You asked. “About your family?”

He nodded. “I don’t even know where to start. Do you know how much I envy you? You get to do something you like every day and you’re so good at it too. There’s nobody telling you you have to be something you’re not.”

His eyes had drifted to the garden around you as he spoke, and his grip on your hand only grew stronger.

“What do you mean?”

You had an idea, albeit a very vague one, of what was wrong, from the things he’d said to you in the bakery. Often it was about disappointing his mother, other times it was something implying how he’d never be able to live up to his older brother.

“I never asked to be born into royalty. I know that it seems horribly ungrateful for me to complain, because I have so much and so many people would love to be in my position, but I’m just not cut out to be a prince.”

You felt the weight of his words sinking in as he spoke to you, looking at you with a newfound seriousness you weren’t yet familiar with.

“I wish I could be what they want me to be, like my brother is, but whenever I try I usually end up making a fool of myself or do something that makes my mom mad. I don’t know how he does it, he’s so good at all this stuff it makes me feel even worse for being so shit at everything. I just wish I could do something with my life that actually makes me happy.”

His voice was growing more and more shaky and you had no clue what you could possibly say back to him when he was hurting so badly, over something you’d never be able to fully experience or understand. Eventually you mustered up a meager “I’m sorry.”

“I know it’s probably hard for you to understand, but that’s a good thing, really. I wouldn’t wish this upon anyone.”

He looked so defeated and your heart ached for him, wishing you could somehow help, but knowing there was nothing you could do.

“Baekhyun, you aren't ungrateful and it’s okay to mess up, I can’t even imagine how much pressure you must be under, of course that’s hard.”

A small smile tugged at his lips briefly but disappeared as quickly as it arose. His eyes looked glassy. You wanted nothing more than to be able to comfort him, to protect him from everything that made him sad. He was so lovely and he deserved so much more than this.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever talked about this with, aside from my brother, but talking to him isn’t much help. I wish I could just be like the rest of them, and fit in with my family and the nobility without having to try so hard.”

His hand left yours and moved to wipe away the wetness in his eyes. When he didn’t lace his fingers back between your own, you took his hand and did it yourself, resting your hands on your thigh. “I don’t wish you were like the rest of them. I like you like this.”

It came out as barely a whisper, but with all his attention on you in that moment he heard you clear as day. He stared back at you, almost making you think that he didn’t believe you.

“Do you really mean that?”

You kept your eyes on him and nodded. “As much as you like to tease me, you’re so much nicer than I ever expected you to be. You’re also funny, and helpful, even though I never ask you to be. You’re really really sweet, Baekhyun, I like you a lot just the way you are now.”

With your last sentence you found yourself looking down in embarrassment, hoping he wouldn’t make fun of you for saying something so vulnerable.

“I like you a lot too.” You saw how his cheeks pulled up into a shy smile and although it was hard to tell in the dim moonlight, you could’ve sworn he was blushing as well. “You’re my best friend, you know.”

“I am?”

As much as you were flattered, and happy that he was so fond of you too, you always assumed he had other friends with how outgoing he seemed.

He nodded. “I told you, I don’t really get along with most of the people my family surrounds themselves with. Most of them don’t like me and think I’m strange and the few I got along with aren’t close with the family anymore, and I don’t blame them.”

“What about people like me?”

He just laughed, “There’s a reason we have to meet like this, I’m definitely not supposed to befriend palace maids, servants, cooks, anyone like that, anyone who doesn’t have some higher status really. I was worried that someone would rat me out for coming to see you so much but surprisingly nobody seems to care.”

“The kitchen staff all generally mind their own business, we know that what you and your family are up to isn’t our business. I doubt they care that you’re in my bakery so often. We aren’t a particularly nosy bunch.”

Baekhyun was smiling, and you were having trouble looking away. You were his best friend. He thought that highly of you. This beautiful, kind, lovely prince really cared about you this much, enough to tell you about his family and the things that upset him. And you were the only person outside of his family that he’d even mentioned it to.

“Baekhyun, you’re my best friend too.”

Baekhyun’s smile became even more blinding and next thing you knew he scooted himself to sit directly next to you, thighs pressed together, and he rested his head on your shoulder. You felt his breath on your neck, and tried to conceal how it made you shiver for a second.

“I’m glad I was craving creampuffs so badly that night.” He hummed and his low voice so close to your ear made your skin tingle.

“Me too.” You responded, squeezing his hand. “If you weren’t the prince, and you could do whatever you wanted, what would you want to be?” You asked him.

“I want to sing, and I want to be in love.” He replied softly.

You felt your heart flutter, you wanted him to be able to be happy, to do what he loves, and to love someone, someone he could actually be with. You couldn’t help the slight lump in your throat when you thought about how that could never be you.

“You can sing?” You asked, trying to ignore the other wish of his for your own sanity. “You’ve never sung for me before.”

“I haven’t in a while now, when I was younger sometimes I would get to sing at events, but eventually my mother deemed it an unnecessary distraction, and I had to stop.”

You frowned. “I’d love to hear you sing.”

With that he started faintly singing a familiar melody, a traditional wedding hymn, and of course his voice was just as pretty as the man himself. You were already so fond of his speaking voice, it wasn’t surprising to you that you loved his singing voice even more.

“You’d be a fantastic singer.”

He groaned, and leaned further into you. “It’s so unfair.” He whispered, and you could feel his lips slightly brush against your neck as he spoke. “Why don’t I get to be happy? Why do I have to live a life I don’t want, why can’t I love who I want?”

It was becoming more and more difficult to keep your composure with how he was pressed up against you, his lips almost touching your neck, breathing you in with every breath, his hand tightly intertwined with yours. Your infatuation was too much to bear, and with a shaky breath you leaned into him as well, resting your head atop of his. “It is unfair. So fucking unfair. I wish there was any way I could help, something I could do to make things better but I’m just a baker. I shouldn’t even be here right now.”

“You’ve done more than you realize. I have someone who will listen to me now, someone who’s nice to me and I can be myself around without feeling bad about it. On days when I can’t come see you, I just look forward to seeing you again the whole day.”

I just look forward to seeing you again the whole day.

The words rung in your mind, and you thought about the days when he wouldn’t be there. You missed him on those days too, and usually spent hours daydreaming about him as you did your work. His laugh, his smile, his silly jokes, his enthusiasm any time you made him something. It was just better when he was there. The bakery felt too quiet and lonely without him ever since he’d made it a regular thing.

“It feels so lonely now, working when you aren’t there. I always miss having you around on days when you’re too busy.”

You were glad he couldn’t see your face from where he was, and how hard you were blushing. Your heart felt like it was about to burst. The affection you had for him was overflowing, and with all of his sweet words whispered into the crook of your neck it was hard to not just start weeping. If you didn’t know better you would’ve thought that maybe, he actually liked you the same way you liked him.

But that was a foolish thing to even think about. He was a prince, and you were a nobody, a commoner. Even if he did feel the same way about you, you would never be able to be together anyway. He deserved happiness with someone he could actually start a life with, someone that his family would approve of, who he could marry and start a family with, and live happily together as royalty, like he was born to.

Did he not think that was possible?

“Baekhyun, why do you say that you can’t be in love?”

You wanted to protest at first when he sat up, but then he looked at you, and you saw the sadness in his eyes.

“I don’t get to meet people, fall in love, all that. Some day my parents will arrange a marriage for some sort of political advantage and I’ll just have to deal with it. The well-being of the people goes before any one individual's happiness, I suppose.”

This time you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “That still isn’t fair.” You mumbled.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Have you ever been in love? You had to think about it for a second, but looking back on the past flings you’d had here and there, it was never really love.

“No, I haven’t. Have you?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I’m not sure I know what love even is, in the romantic sense. I’ve been attracted to people, sure, but I was never able to act on it anyway. I bet it feels amazing, though. Loving someone and them loving you back. But of course people always want what they can’t have.”

He sighed, and you felt his thumb gently rubbing back and forth across the back of your hand.

“Even if it’s just for a little while, I hope you get to feel that someday.”

“Me too.” He whispered. “And I hope you get to live a long, happy life like that.”

You felt the lump in your throat again. Of course you wanted that, but your infatuation for him at that moment made it hard not to be sad at the notion that you’d never experience that with him. Of course you’d daydreamed about different worlds, where he loved you and the two of you could be together, but this wasn’t your reality.

You stayed quiet after that, focusing your eyes on the garden in front of you, the colorful flowers in the moonlight and the occasional flickering of a firefly. You and Baekhyun sat like that, simply enjoying each other’s presence, until you heard yawning coming from both of you, and decided it was time to call it a night before you could accidentally fall asleep.

Baekhyun thanked you oh so sweetly for coming and spending time with him, and gave you another hug before you parted ways.

As you drifted to sleep his words and actions rang in your mind, and you already felt yourself missing him and his touches.

Baekhyun, your best friend.

Next Chapter

[sirthisisa-wendys]

... And Eat It Too: Rengoku Kyojuro x Fem!Reader

synopsis: (Rengoku 1 + 14); Rengoku returns home to you after a long mission.

wc: 918

tw: little *suggestive* at the end.

A Grand 300 Celebration Fic

“Umai!”

The telltale sounds of your child consuming breakfast carry through your kitchen, and you wonder if the word really even registers with the flame-haired child when he eats. You suppose it’s because he’s heard Kyojuro repeat it a thousand times as he eats sweet potatoes, but as you clean up the mess in the kitchen, the toddler repeats the word as he shovels a slice of cantaloupe in his mouth.

“Umai!”

When you hear the front door opening, your head shoots up to look in the general direction of the noise. A few seconds later, you hear, “It smells delicious in here!”

“Baba!” The toddler jumps down from his seat and scrambles around the corner, face still covered with food. You peer around the corner as well, hands wet from the dishwater, but you dry them on the towel on your shoulder.

“Akihiko!” Kyojuro grunts as he hoists the toddler up into the air, tossing him a few times before resting him on his hip. Akihiko laughs feverishly, hands clapping as you waddle over to them, holding your arms out for the Flame Hashira. He greets you with a chaste peck on the lips, then hugs you as close as possible. Feeling him in your arms again was enough to make you release tension you didn’t know you were holding in your neck and shoulders.

“How was it?” you wonder, and he shrugs, wincing a little.

“A broken rib, but nothing that can be fixed by some rest and relaxation, right, Akihiko?” Your son cackles, patting his father’s face with joy. “How are you, my love?” he asks, and you smile a little.

“Sick here and there, but I’m not dying.” Kyojuro sets your toddler down, who speeds away to continue eating - satisfied now that his father is home - and the elde Rengoku places his hands on your slightly swollen stomach.

“Anything amiss?” he wonders, squatting down so he’s face to face with your growing child.

“No, nothing out of the ordinary,” you affirm, and he places a tender kiss to the bump, murmuring to it:

“Too much trouble out of you and I might start thinking you’re a boy.”

“It is a boy,” you correct him, softly patting Kyojuro on the head.

“I say it’s a girl,” he retorts confidently, and you roll your eyes with a grin, the familiar banter welcome since he’s been gone for so long. “Besides, I don’t think you can handle three of us. You need a sidekick, too.” He places another kiss to your baby bump and then stands, taking your hand. You lead him to the kitchen, where he sits across from your son, who has started his chanting again.

“Are you hungry, Kyo?” You’re ready to make him anything he asks for, but when you look over at him, you see a familiar glint in his eye.

“I’m hungry for something you can’t bake,” he teases, and you press your lips together, feeling heat creep up your neck. “But I ate on the train ride here. Don’t worry, I’m full.”

_____________________________________________________________

“Time for bed.” Kyojuro carries a half-asleep Akihiko to his room, and you watch the two do their bedtime routine: check under the bed, check under the covers, check under the pillow, then tuck-in. Kyojuro always tells him a short story about the Nine Pillars defeating some unknown demon, and then tucks him in. You go in behind him and give your son a kiss on the forehead, retreating back to the hallway after closing the door. Almost instantly - but not unexpectedly - Kyojuro’s hands roam over you, ghosting over your face, neck, shoulders, arms, everywhere.

“Kyo…” you whisper, and he pulls back, his gold eyes searching your face.

“I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist on the train ride home,” he whispers huskily, and you chuckle.

“How would that be possible?” you ask, looking down at the bump between the two of you.

“I… I suppose it wouldn’t be,” he smiles, one hand on the small of your back. “How are your ankles?” The swollen joints groan in discomfort everywhere you go, but you never complain about it out loud. Why would you? It’s better than being a Hashira and facing death every day, right?

“They’re--”

“Can you walk? I’d be happy to carry you to bed,” The Flame Hashira smiles toothily, and you giggle.

“Go ahead; show us your strength, Flame Pillar.” And he does just that, carrying you without complaint to your shared room where he lays you in the bed on top of the blankets messily tossed about.

“I’m feeling a little hungry now…” Kyojuro mentions, leaning over you and pressing his lips against yours. You take his face in your hands and kiss him back, your heart swelling in your chest. “But I’ll wait for a little while. I want to hear what you two were up to while I was away.”

“Your son picked up your little habit while you were gone,” you begin as he undoes his uniform.

“I heard,” he replies, raising a brow at you and grinning. “Like father, like son, I suppose.”

You laugh a little, then look down at your belly when Kyojuro lays a hand on it. “Is she asleep?”

“Sound asleep,” you reply, and he rolls his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Would you mind if I went ahead and got my dessert?” You don’t have to say anything, just nod, and his hands snake under your nightgown, finding his prize almost immediately.

[cryptiql]

untitled god song

pairing: bakugou/m!reader (trans reader in mind you can see it if you squint but can also be read as cis)

words: 2k

warnings: themes of religious trauma, homophobia, mentions of blood, the author projecting their mommy issues

a/n: this is purely self indulgent, don't mind me 😩✋ (written in first person)

i wish i had known him before the pain started. perhaps it is a fools dream to think that his presence would have solved anything, and it is likely that he might blown me sky high at the time, if given the chance, but i often ponder his place in my narrative. he is nothing less than a king—nay, a god—and what else am i to be except his humble servant, adoring him in the only way i've been taught?

i would bruise my knees as i kneel for him, and should he turn me away, i shall be lost and without purpose. but he does not, and instead, he snorts out a laugh and pulls me to my feet, roughly squeezing my cheeks together with a shit-eating grin. he'll tell me a joke i've heard a thousand times, and yet i laugh with him anyways, the pads of my fingers idly tapping the pulse on his wrists.

"dumbass, at least take me out to dinner first."

i never thought i'd ache to hear such a demeaning nickname, but it's like birdsong to my ears, and i long for the myriad of butterflies it provokes.

i would heed his every word like a faithful disciple, and—if i knew he would not use this power for the wrong reasons—carry it out without question. he'll roll his eyes at the notion, far too prideful at the idea of being praised, and card hands through my hair, gripping softly. "right. and if i told you to go to bed before five in the morning, would you listen?"

my smiles are genuine, as they all are with him.

"no." i wish my mother had been more open-minded; more loving to those she claimed were goners. maybe then, i could still call her my mother, and not a snarled version of her first name steeped in vinegar. maybe she could have met him, and maybe she would have keeled over in the process, but that is how we put it "killing two birds with one stone".

he was a fallen angel if ever i saw one—emblazoned in smog and ravenous inferno, the pieces of child-like innocence turning to ash. something happened to him when he was a kid, just as all gifted children, and oh, what a fool i was to let my gaze dawdle on his gorgeous form. but i will never regret it—no, not ever—for there is no such feeling that can compare to his eyes on mine, burning with a mind-fogging intensity.

it was instantaneous, the moment my thoughts turned on me with malicious intent, her voice ringing out like a gunshot.

you'll never be him.

his hand slots with mine perfectly; deliciously warm and comforting in a way i haven't felt in years; and hauls me up, the flecks of dirt and rubble from the road clinging to my jeans.

"watch it, pretty boy. i won't always be here to save you, y'know."

my heart batters against my ribs like a caged bird, screeching and wailing to be set free, and i wonder in a haze if i've died. judgement day must have come early, i think, not realizing that it was spoken aloud until the blonde quirks a brow inquisitively. he does not speak on the matter, but continues on his merry way, leaving my helpless; hopelessly enamored; and praying that we will meet again.

no, i could never be him. but i am like him. he has a sureness in his walk and fervor in the way he talks that is only recognizable when i look in the mirror. and we do meet again. it is a shame, however, that i must burden him with the weight of my past. i remember too often the troubles of my youth, even when all has passed into fleeting memories that haunt me as ghosts do to an abandoned house. yet, i still live in this house, and the ghosts are here to keep me company.

i remember the church, first and foremost; nestled between the barren country road and the outback; a beacon of hope to all those who stood in its doors. the luster of freshly polished wood still sits in my mind, accompanied by the echoing remnants of dulcet tones and multicolored bands of light, glaring from the stained glass windows and dancing across the musty carpet floor. the doddering pews were just as uncomfortable as the poorly padded chairs squatting in the front row, but every sunday, they were filled to the brim with hungry worshippers. they sang praise as though they were starved, but i was too young to understand for what. i am older now, and i still don't understand. all i know is that despite its reputation, the church was a cursed place, and i should never set foot in it again lest i go mad. i remember the creaking stairs which lead downstairs, and the winding halls that reeked of torment where shadows loomed. the paint was corroding and foul, and my conscious always loitered too long on the merlot stain on the ceiling; its origin unknown, but nevertheless urging my stomach to twist with nausea.

i remember the feeling of tall grass grazing my ankles; itching horribly from the old moth-eaten socks i was forced to wear. it had become second nature—running and hiding from my problems, from the church, from her. i shall never know a greater animosity than the likes that my mother encouraged, although unintentionally, with her pressuring views and sickeningly sweet smile. it's fake, and i would know, because ours are the same.

we are too similar, and i am sickened by the fact. will i become the wretched woman she is? will i fail to be the father i've dreamt of being? it is an easy thing to fall prey to haunting questions, and it serves as brain rot for every moment of silence that leaves me clawing at my skin, trying to reap the memory of her touch. then i began to think—about nothing and everything—and it does not stop. i will be kind; unforgivingly so, and without biased judgement; like my mother never was, and i'll make her hate me for it. i will grow in leaps and bounds, not for her sake or for god's, but for mine, as it always should have been. i will drink and curse with reckless abandon and kiss who i damn well please, because in no life does she have have the power to make me something i'm not. why should i feel sorry when the tears she wept were forged by my own blood; by the childhood memories locked away to rot in my subconscious? yes, she has suffered too, but it is through clenched teeth and raw-bitten lips that i must confess this, for her suffering was born in me and grew from a seedling into a thorned flower, nourished by her hatred and mine. she'll tell me the lie of all mothers before her: that she knows best, and i'll never know joy that is not from my savior's gracious hands.

one day, when she lies not with words but in silence, under worm-filled earth and withering pastures, i'll tell her that she was right. i'll tell her, with his hand in mine, that my savior arrived with hellfire in his eyes and fury unrelenting. his tongue holds venom that would make the devil blush, but he tastes of a sinful sweetness that i've drowned in more times than i care to count.

mother you should know, my god is like no other. he has a broad chest and muscles, i attest, that are sculpted like fine marble and smooth to the test.

my god is a man who loves other men, unashamedly; in all that is true; and kisses me like real people do. and i know it sounds silly, and a bit cliché, and he'd surely make a mockery of me if ever he heard, but i love him. i love him as passionately as you she does lord above, and it is a crime in itself how much i crave him, so yes, i will burn for this—not because my mother said so or by the ancient script that foretells it, but because i promise it. i promise to let neither hell or high water deter me from that which gives me life, and i'll do so with a ring.

"you hear that mom?" i'll whisper in the dead of night, his body flushed against mine in the most delightful way; his fingers curled into my nightshirt, pulling me closer as listless mumbles fall from his parted lips. he is dead to the world amid his dream ridden stupor, but still leans into my touch when i smooth back the wild tufts of hair to kiss his forehead.

"i'm gonna marry him." part of me wishes she didn't live on the other side of the planet, just so i could rub it in her face, but i won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me again. i won't let her think she's won, because i know, and katsuki knows, that he and i are one in the same.

i do not know who i should thank for my stubbornness, be it my mother or my father, so i will thank the pain they both caused me, for it made me stronger than they ever could. no, i did not become a better person, because the scars have yet to heal from how deep they cut, and the smell of blood still lingers, and i am angrier than i once was, but i cherish my wounds. the stench of my agony has long since been subdued, and i have learned to swallow the sickness it evokes. and yes, this anger is unhealthy and i've chosen not to purge it from my mind like the weed it is, but how lucky am i to have found one whose malice rivals my own?

the tales of his glory have littered my notebooks in smudged ink. you would hate him, is scrawled messily on the last page, but i only feel giddy with excitement. you would hate him for his spite and his unapologetic behavior, and that is why he's perfect. he's everything you hate about this world, but everything i love.

so when she gets to heaven and asks the angels "why?", they'll tell her it was him who made the devil cry. him, who held me like she should have—could have, if she hadn't terrified me—and who chased the nightmarish visions of her from my weary mind with his callous palms and soft-spoken reassurances. i wish i had known him when we were young; when things were not so simple and i needed a hand to hold; but i suppose we'll have to settle for faded photographs and stories told through the bitter aroma of alcohol. that's more than enough, i muse to myself, legs hooked over his as i rest my head on his shoulder, keening softly at the gentle scrape of his nails on my scalp. his arms wind around my waist as he mutters something along the lines of "i love you", his lips curling into a smile, illuminated by the televisions glow.

so when they ask of my religion, i will think of only him. i will recall the way he looks at me, the sound of my name on his tongue, the feeling of his lips trailing between the valley of my breast; featherlight, cautious and unfitting for a man of his nature. i've written songs of praise, all dedicated to him, and if only he knew, oh how smug he would be. but i love him, i love him, i love him. and when he spins me around like a marionette, it is with overwhelming pride and joy that i tell him this, and with rose hued cheeks and bashful grumbles, he tells me the same. so mother, wherever you are, i hope you know i've found my god.

[localgenius]

Her Favourite Story

Thank you so much for liking my first fic! It’s wild to think about people liking what I’m writing, but it makes me very happy! So all the love to all of you guys!

A story about the domestic life Spencer longs for when the team is away on cases, aka more fluff - this time featuring a small baby Reid. I’ve done so that this story sort of exists in the same universe as ‘To Love’, but they don’t really have anything to do with each other.

tw: mentions of dead children (regarding a case)

Spencer Reid x fem!reader (3.5k)

The staircase had seemed to have become miles longer over the duration of the past eight months. The creaking wood gave way under his feet as he shuffled to the side to avoid running into a man that he recognized to be living a floor above him.

His satchel was bouncing heavily against his side as he hurried up the seemingly endless amounts of steps. The many files were weighing him down, keeping him from reaching the end goal in the desired time.

His jacket was hanging loosely around his shoulders, keeping him warm from the winter cold that had managed to creep into the hallway from the constant revolving door and the small cracks that lathered the building.

His eyes were still droopy from the mediocre nap he had gotten on the plane ride home from the latest case.

A family annihilator had been tormenting a small suburban town outside of Detroit, and while cases regarding children had always been a bit tougher, this one had hit closer to home than he’d originally anticipated.

There had been something about watching young children lying dead in a basement, a brother and sister together in their last moments, that had him craving the sweet serenity that filled apartment 24 in the old apartment complex.

It had been over a year ago since the team had had to handle a case like this, and for the first time, he finally understood; he understood the melancholy look in Hotch’s eyes when they briefed before flying off, he understood the silent tears JJ shed on the plane home. He finally got it.

The landing had never been a sweeter sight than right then. His feet were practically bouncing on the last few steps before hurrying to stick the key in the lock.

A warmth, that could never be replaced by a jacket, greeted him as soon as he stepped through the threshold. The late afternoon sun was shining through the windows, making tiny specks of dust swirling around visible, feeding the numerous plants on the windowsill and making her look even more ethereal than usual.

He didn’t even know that that was possible. But really, he shouldn’t be surprised. Everything about her had surprised him from the day they first met.

Her gentle voice was talking in a low mumble, probably telling one of the many stories she had memorized over the last eight months. She had argued that she refused to be put on the side-line when it came to story time, simply because he had an eidetic memory.

She simply wouldn’t have it.

So, she had spent months lying on the couch, simply reading and memorizing all the books that JJ and Penelope had brought over.

And it had finally paid off.

Because, more often than not, Spencer would find his wife walking around the apartment, murmuring sweet fairytales, fables or research articles while staring down at a big pair of eyes that matched her own to a tee.

At the sound of the door gently being pushed shut, her attention was dragged away from the big eyes, to see a pair of brown staring at her with the utmost adoration.

“Look who’s here!” she whispered down to the sweet boy in her arms, “Is it daddy?”

She turned her body towards Spencer, slowly moving her way graciously around the couch, down to the front entrance.

“Is daddy home?” she giggled down at the baby, a big smile on her face when the baby provided gurgles of joy from the familiar word.

“Oh yes,” Spencer groaned, quickly pulling his satchel off of his shoulder and messily hanging his jacket on the coat rack, before moving to meet his loves halfway. “Daddy's home.”

When the baby finally got a proper look at him, a joyous shriek left the spit covered lips and arms were already reaching out in the open air.

“Hi bug, hi,” Spencer smiled when he finally got to get the sweet baby in his arms, letting the small being thaw up any coldness that had possessed his body over the past few days.

Big eyes and an even bigger smile were looking up at him, while arms were reaching up to touch his face.

“Hi daddy,” she smiled at him, letting one of her hands fall to the back of the baby, while the other came to tangle in the curls in the back of his head, dragging his lips down to meet hers in a gentle kiss.

“Hi mummy,” he smiled down at her, and let himself bask in the harmonious moment. A baby that was happily mumbling to himself in his arms and his wife at his side, with a gentle hand running through his messy curls.

“Good flight?” she asked softly, while rubbing the hand on their sons back up and down.

“Mediocre at best,” Spencer responded while entertaining the small baby in his arms. His eyes were big and enamoured while he was watching his daddy pull funny faces crossing his eyes. “What story were you telling him?”

“Just a little love story,” his wife happily told him, leaving his side with a quick kiss to his cheek, and a final kiss to the baby’s fine hair.

“Mummy told you a love story, huh?” Spencer mumbled down to the baby, moving to follow his wife through the apartment to the kitchen. “Mummy has always had a fondness for those hasn’t she?”

“Oh yes she has,” he heard his wife say from where she was standing with her head in the fridge. “They are the best stories to tell.”

“That can be discussed,” Spencer mumbled down to the baby, happily accepting the slap to the back of his head as he moved to sit down at one of the kitchen chairs. The baby was still looking at him with big eyes, a smile revealing the growing teeth. “What story was it this time?”

“My favourite,” she said as she was moving around behind him.  “A tale about a boy and a girl that loved each other very much.”

A small smile started to break out on Spencer’s face. He knew this story all too well. He knew the ins and the outs. The plot twists and the cliff-hangers. “Yeah?” he asked breathlessly as he looked back at her over his shoulder.

She was moving around, digging through cabinets to get pots and pans out on the stove. “Hm,” she hummed in agreement.

“Would you mind sharing it with the group?”

She laughed softly, turning to look at him over her shoulder. He sat so innocently in the wooden chair – one they had been talking about donating because he insisted that it was the source of his frequent back pain – with their innocent baby resting on his chest, and big brown eyes nearly on the verge of begging.

“It’s a tale as old as time really,” she started, while moving around to start chopping up vegetables from the fridge. “There was this girl, who was so tired of being alone and was just waiting for a boy that was willing to spare an ounce of love on her.”

While she was telling the story, Spencer couldn’t help himself from falling in love with her all over again. The light green sweater falling loosely around her shoulders, her favourite pair of jeans, mismatched socks and glasses perched on the tip of the nose completed the look of a new mum.

He had foolishly thought that she couldn’t ever be prettier than she was on their wedding day, but for once he was happy to be proven wrong, when she had laid in the hospital bed with their new-born resting tenderly on her chest. And from every day since then, she had a special glow around her.

The mummy glow, as he liked to call it. Everything about her radiated love, it had from the very first time they met, but it seemed to only have grown from the moment she had brought their son into the world.

“And when she was ready to give up, an angel in disguise came by and said that she knew a boy that was so willing to give out the love he had inside of him. She only had to go out and have dinner with him, and the girl could see so for herself,” she was mindlessly talking as she was cutting up an onion, taking occasional breaks to look up to the ceiling to avoid crying too much.

“So, she put on her prettiest dress, and went to the restaurant the angel had told her about. And in there was the boy. The boy who was more than willing to love her, and the girl was so happy. Because she finally had the love she had always dreamed about.”

Spencer was gently rocking the baby in his arms; the gentle hum of his mother’s voice lulling him into a light slumber.

“And about a year and a half later,” she continued before being interrupted by a soft mumbling.

“One year, six months and 14 days.”

“Right,” she turned around from the cutting board, “sorry. And a year, six months and 14 days later the boy asked the girl to marry him. And the girl was so happy.” Spencer could hear the smile in her voice, his own mind going back to the evening, where they both ended up with tears in their eyes, and a ring sitting in its rightful place after weeks hidden away.

“And then the boy and girl got married, and all of their friends and family were there to celebrate with them. And the girl had never felt so much love for a person in her entire life,” she continued softly, remembrance seeking out of every word passing her lips.

Spencer moved to get up, making sure the baby was securely pressed to his chest as he made his way over to the kitchen counter she was standing by.

“That was of course until the girl found out that she was pregnant.”

She glanced at her two loves, both eagerly listening to the story.

“Nine months later the girl gave birth to the most beautiful baby boy in the world. And in that moment the girl realized that nothing could ever top the love she had for her beautiful baby. And so, the girl, who once was so sad and lonely, suddenly had a husband whom she loved dearly, and a small baby boy that she loved more than life itself.”

When she finished the story, she leaned over and pressed a delicate kiss to the top of the baby’s head, before leaning up and giving her husband one.

“That’s a very good story,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Thank you,” she laughed as they pulled apart, her focus going back to the vegetables. “It’s one of my absolute favourites.”

-

Light snowflakes were dancing around outside of the window, the yellow light from the streetlamps highlighting them like ballerinas on a stage.

The chill had seeped its way into the small room, making goosebumps rise on the back of his neck, yet the cold was the furthest thing on his mind.

At the forefront was the small baby, who was sleeping peacefully in the wooden crib. His small onesie covered chest was moving up and down with the deep breaths, helping to calm Spencer’s mind.

The nightlight was shining from its place on the bookcase, that was already overflowing despite only having been used for eight months.

Small coos left the baby, and the small arms moved to stretch over his head, before resting back again in a peaceful sleeping position. The small tongue came to stick out past his lips, something she said always reminded her of his father.

Spencer let a small smile tug on his lips, before he moved up from the chair, lingering by the crib for just a small moment, soaking up all the love he felt from the small baby.

Before he could move away from the crib, he heard the wooden door creek open, and before he knew it, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, taking a firm grip on the dark blue cardigan he was wearing.

“Tough case?” she mumbled against his shoulder, letting her lips rest there and giving the spot an occasional kiss or two.

Spencer moved to interlock their fingers, and letting their arms wrap tightly around him, letting the security of her arms prevent him from falling apart.

“Yeah,” he whispered, tears already burning in the corner of his eyes.

He felt her lean her head against his shoulder, hearing her taking a deep breath in before she started talking again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Spencer let out a deep breath before shaking his head.

“Spence,” she whispered, slowly removing her arms from his, helping him turn around to face him.

His brown eyes were glistening with unshed tears, yet they seemed as lovely as ever in the light of the streetlamps, the nightlight and the glowing moon. His nose was scrunching up in a way she knew meant that he was fighting to not let the stream of tears fall.

“We made a deal,” she whispered to him, moving closer so they stood chest to chest, hands interlocked by their sides. “When Noah was born, we made a deal, that you wouldn’t keep all of this in anymore.”

Spencer lifted his eyes to the ceiling when he felt the tears make their escape, choosing to focus on the glow-in-the-dark stars that lithered the ceiling instead of the concerned eyes of his wife.

“Spencer,” she said a bit more sternly, tugging on their locked hands to draw his attention back to her.

“It was kids,” he finally mumbled, closing his eyes and let his head fall to rest against hers. “Just small kids.”

She let go of his hands in order to wrap her arms around his shoulders, hoping to help him stay together for just a little longer. Hoping to make him feel okay for just a little longer.

One of her hands buried itself in the tangle of curls, while the other was rubbing soothing patterns on his shoulder blades – the same way she did to their son when he was upset.

“One of them was called Noah,” he mumbled into her hair, squeezing her tightly around her waist. “He just looked so much like him it was scary, and we couldn’t save him.” Tears were falling freely now, a lump clogging his throat. “I couldn’t save him.”

“Oh, Spence,” she mumbled softly, tightening her arms around him. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“It’s just,” he started as he slowly pulled away, only to drag her into his side as he looked down at the sleeping baby, “we haven’t had a case revolving kids since he was born. And then I saw him; he looked like he was sleeping. And all I could think about was our Noah; our Noah that falls asleep to your stories and that giggles every time I do a magic trick.”

He could feel her eyes on him, while his were solely focused on the sleeping baby.

“And I got to thinking,” he started, savouring the feeling of his wife pressing herself closer to his side, “what if, at one point, I can’t save him? What if I can’t save you?”

“Hey now,” Y/N reached up and directed his line of sight to her, ensuring that his mind wouldn’t drift away to a dark place, like it had a tendency to do. “That’s never going to happen, okay? You’re his daddy okay? And he knows that his daddy always will protect him.”

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut and sniffled, tuning his ears into the sound of deep breaths coming from his son, and the gentle soothing voice of his wife.

“It’s just,” he started to mumble, afraid to let her open the door to the deepest darkest corner of his mind, “sometimes I wonder if it’s all worth it.”

With his eyes till squeezed shut, he let himself go in the feeling of her rubbing her soft fingers up and down his cheeks. The smell of her perfume and baby shampoo filled his nose, making the deep, scary corner of his mind seem further and further away.

“What do you mean,” she inquired softly, letting her head fall to the crook of his neck.

“I see so much evil every day, and sometimes it's hard to shut it out when I get home. And I’m gone for days at a time, sometimes not home for weeks. And I guess it was fine when it was just me. But then you came along,” he leaned down and let his lips ghost over her ear, while whispering his confessions to her. “You came, and suddenly it was harder leaving, but you’ve always insisted that you were fine with me leaving.”

“Because I am,” she whispered into his neck, slowly starting to rock them from side to side.

“I know,” he mumbled sweetly, “And then Noah came along, and now I’m terrified that I’ll miss everything. That I’ll miss watching him grow up, because I was too busy chasing down monsters, and that it’ll only drag me further away from you – from him.”

Y/N pulled her face from the crook of his neck, and gently grasped the sides of his face, before leaning up to give him a slow, deep kiss.

They just stood like that for a while, a boy and a girl, so in love with each other that nothing else really seemed to matter.

“Spencer Reid,” she mumbled against his lips, refusing to even let the space of an atom come between them. “You are the best man I’ve ever known. You are the best husband and the best dad that I could ever wish for for our son.”

His eyes remained closed, but more tears started to trail down his cheeks again, only to be kissed away by a pair of soft lips.

“You’re his hero,” she told him softly. “Even though he’s not old enough to know what a hero is,” they laughed softly as she spoke, “he cries every time you leave, and gets excited every time you come back home. And I swear, that no matter what bedtime fairy tales I tell him, nothing will ever beat the plethora of stories I can tell him about his daddy.”

They pulled apart, and she dragged him over to stand by the side of the wooden crib, soft breaths filling the silence.

“This is why what you do is worth it,” she said, letting her hand rub up and down his back, as he let one of his big hands gently smooth over the frail hairs on his little head. “Every day, when you and that amazing team of yours chase down monsters, you make the world a little bit brighter. A little bit safer for our Noah to grow up in.

“You show him what it means to be good, to fight for what you believe in. And if that means that you have to travel a lot, then so be it. Because the passion you have for saving other people, for helping those in need is what made me fall in love with you. And that will never change.”

One of her hands went down and squeezed the tiny onesie covered foot that was flailing around in his dreams.

“But if you decide to leave it behind, to find something else to do, then I support you. Always. And so will he,” she giggled the last part, releasing the tiny foot to wrap both of her arms around Spencer’s midsection.

“I love you,” he mumbled down to her, his nose nuzzling into the crown of her head.

“I love you too,” she smiled up at him, but was quick to turn her attention to the crib when a soft cry was released. “And you,” she said, her mummy voice immediately being activated, “I love you so very much.”

She let her arms fall from his waist in order to pick Noah up, his cries immediately subsiding by the comfort of his mother’s arms.

“Why are we crying, huh?” she whispered softly, letting her lips brush against the soft temple, as Noah slowly relaxed into her chest. “Mummy’s here, Daddy’s here, Noah’s here,” she said as she started to rock him back and forth. “You wanna go to daddy?”

Spencer happily accepted the small baby into his arms, letting his nose bury in Noah’s hair, welcoming the smell of innocence that filled him.

“Daddy’s right here,” he mumbled, bouncing the baby up and down slowly, just the way he knows help him fall back into a slumber.

“Do you want to take him to bed?” Y/N asked, looking at both of her boys with the uttermost love in her eyes.

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyes never leaving the small baby that was slowly, but surely, falling back to sleep.

“Then let’s go to sleep daddy,” she said, turning the nightlight off, and starting to guide them out of the door and down the hallway to their bedroom. “I have an inkling that sleep will do you some good.”

[rainbows-fanfics]

Our Nightmare (Chapter 13)

Summary: Sally moves in with the man of her screams. But there  is still so much she has to learn of Halloween Town, and what it’s like  living with The Pumpkin King.

A sequel to Two Dearest Friends,  where the Christmas incident never happens. But there are still many  ends that haven’t been met, and much for these two dreamers to learn as  they start to spend their deaths together.

Pairings: Jack Skellington/Sally, Dr Finklestein/Jewel

–

Note: This is a SEQUEL to my other story, TWO DEAREST FRIENDS. To read the original story, go here.

–

It is early in the morning when the crowing of a skeletal rooster makes it into Jack’s bedroom. The Pumpkin King throws his pillow over his skull in an attempt to deafen the noise. A few seconds pass before a bright light begins to seep into the room, as the pumpkin sun rises slowly in the sky outside. The skeleton groans when it hits his eye sockets. He mentally swears at himself for forgetting to close the curtains last night, and aggravatingly turns on his other side to avoid the window. His eyes snap open when he finds a face only a few inches away from his own.

  Sally…

His frame freezes at the sight, finding himself in some sort of trance. His gaze is locked on her closed eyes, her slightly parted lips, and her breathing figure moving and falling by the second. It doesn’t take long before a smile grows on his stitched lips. He remembers all about last night. His proposal to move his girlfriend into his room...rightfully sharing a bed together as soon as they could. He remembers sleeping so peacefully throughout the night. He carefully brings a hand forward and moves the fallen strands of hair from her face. This notion catches her attention and her eyes slowly flutter open.

“Good morning, my dear.” He greets softly, cradling her face in one of his large hands. She looks surprised before relaxing her shoulders.

“Good morning…”

The air around them is entirely peaceful. She recalls feeling like this on her first morning in the Skellington Manor. Except now she has the pleasure of waking up right next to her skeleton man. He leans towards her and leaves a kiss on her lips, brushing her hair to the side before sitting up in bed. She follows his movements and lets out a small yawn. He notices this and tilts his skull.

"You can sleep in if you'd like."

She shakes her head. She already feels well-rested. "No, it's alright."

She leaves a kiss on his cheek before they hear something stirring in the room. Zero shakes his head from his doggy bed before peering around the bedroom. He levitates from the surface and meets with the eyes of his master and Sally. The ghost dog joins them and nuzzles both of their sides excitedly.

Jack chuckles as he pats his small head. "Good morning to you, Zero!"

Some more movement comes from the floor before a small, black figure jumps onto the edge of the bed. Ophelia tiredly blinks her yellow eyes at the figures, running along the blankets to meet with her owner. Sally coos when the feline jumps into her lap and nestles into her arm. What a wonderful way to start the morning!

"Good morning, Ophelia.."

The Pumpkin King takes this time to leave the bed and approach the windows, fully moving the curtains so the sun completely envelops the room. He moves to his dresser and searches around in his drawers for his clothes. The other figures watch him intently from the bed. Sally rubs her eyes as she adjusts to the light in the room.

"Did you sleep well, dearest?" The skeleton asks, pulling her from her thoughts.

She nods. "Just terrible!"

"I'm glad to hear it. I wanted our first night together to be perfectly unpleasant!"

He moves behind the screen to start dressing himself. He hears his beloved leave the bed after a few minutes and passes right through the door. The pitter-patters of her cat follow behind, and he can hear Zero's tag chiming down the stairs. It's only when he's fully dressed when the familiar sound of sizzling comes from the kitchen. She must be making breakfast already!

He grins to himself, elated with everything so far. This was the right decision to make after all this time. He'll have to spend the rest of the morning moving her things from her room and properly making his space into  theirs . He’s already cleared plenty of time in his schedule to do it. He's more than excited by the time he rushes down the stairs to meet with Sally, kissing her neck once or twice while she stands over the stove cooking the food.

The sound of her giggles brings a new delight to his bones.

. . .  

The nights go on, as do the mornings. They've moved past what happened on Halloween night. In fact, the subject never comes up again as the two get more comfortable. Jack's favorite part, albeit self-indulgent, are the mornings he spends waking up next to  her . He finds he rises even earlier than usual just to watch her form next to his - sleeping so peacefully, auburn hair messily strewn over her face and the pillows, looking like the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his death. He listens to her small breaths in this time until she eventually wakes, and then he greets her with a kiss.

As the weeks pass, the skeleton and ragdoll start noticing each other's habits. While she sleeps, he finds she makes the tiniest of snores on some nights, almost virtually unnoticeable if it hadn't been for his keen sense of hearing. She will, in return, find the King overworking himself most nights, cooping himself up in his study while he reads or experiments. She has to drag him to bed every time this happens, sweetly reminding him to get his rest and that it's time to go to bed together.

He never resists. He feels like he's in some sort of Heaven as his angel leads him temptingly to their bedroom with a tight pull on his wrist. He sighs in bliss every time it happens.  Things truly couldn't be better. 

----

It is a quiet afternoon when Sally Finklestein sweeps around the entrance of her sewing shop. It is the usual time she takes a break and temporarily closes her business until she returns. She normally spends this time either in the plaza or the Town Hall, where she meets with Jack during his own lunch break. The two usually eat together and catch up at this time, before having to return to their responsibilities for the rest of the day.

She plans to meet with him and talk over a modest meal she packed for both of them this morning. She returns her broom inside and locks the front door of the shop with a hum. She eagerly turns on her heel and is about to begin her way until she is interrupted by the sound of laughter. It isn't a normal, childish one - rather, a collection of shrieks  that sound from across the street. It is accompanied by the sound of running feet. She assumes it's from the Town children playing together as they usually do around this time, and continues on her way like normal.

The laughter continues until she stumbles upon the source of the noise. The sight makes her stop completely in her tracks. It is coming from three children she's never seen in Town before...she marvels at their bright clothing. They look exactly like the trick-or-treaters she’s seen in the human world - dressed in costume from head-to-toe. There is one young girl and two little boys - the girl is dressed as a purple witch, with a tall hat, stringy black hair, and a long green mask. One of the boys seems to be a skeleton, who has stubby green hair, a round face, and only three pointy fingers and toes on his hands and feet. He wears a circular mask sporting a wide, toothy grin. The last boy looks to be a devil, with his hair gelled upwards to represent small horns, and a long red mask situated over his tall face, as a pointy tail flickers from his pants.

The three are currently standing in front of other children, except these are ones Sally recognizes from Town. There is the mummy boy - a child wrapped entirely in paper whom she knows loves to help the Mayor with his duties, a small winged demon with large black wings, and the corpse couple’s kid, Ethan. There is a look of terror on their faces as the trick-or-treaters stand before them, attempting to hide their bags behind their small figures. She notices they’re filled with many colorful wrappers, which she assumes must be candy.

The small witch steps forward, batting her broom on the ground in warning. “Give it to us! We know you’re hiding it!”

Ethan narrows his stitched eyes. He is among the few residents that happen to be blind. “Who says we have to give it to you!? Aren’t you supposed to EARN your own candy?”

“Push off!” The devil warns as he steps forward. “You owe us for helping you last Halloween! Give us the candy!”

“HELP? You got all of us in trouble for that trick you played last year!” The mummy boy joins in. “We don’t want anything to do with you bullies!”

“ ‘Bullies..’ ?” The skeleton kid snickers from behind.

The trick-or-treaters exchange a glance. Despite their masks concealing most of their faces, it is clear that there is mischief in their gaze. The other children loudly gulp and begin to back away as the taller figures step forward threateningly. It is at this point Sally realizes something is about to go badly. The three suddenly take the masks off of their faces, revealing almost identical expressions underneath.

“It seems like we have to remind you of who we exactly  are ..!” The girl giggles menacingly.

The other figures nod in agreement before joining her side. This is when they completely advance on the Halloween Town children, cornering them until they have no more space to go. Then they arrange themselves in a line, with the devil coming first while the witch and skeleton follow from behind. They momentarily hold the masks over their faces before dramatically lowering them.

  “Lock!” “Shock!” “Barrel!”  

The last member licks the lollipop in his hand greedily, eying the bags they are currently concealing from them. He nudges his fellow trick-or-treaters. “Say, I think I know where they’re keeping their candy..!”

“Oh? Where is it, Barrel?” Shock plays along.

“Hey! I think I see them, too!” Lock comes forward and points a finger behind them, making the small kids quiver in fear. “You’re hiding it behind your backs! That’s the oldest trick in the book! Our  book!”

“P...please…” The demon’s red eyes start to moisten with tears. “This is all we have..! Our parents would get mad if-”

“ Psh ! This is why we don’t have any parents! We work for the boogeyman, and he doesn’t have any of those lame rules..!” She snorts at them. Barrel nods in agreement.

“We take our job in pride...and the boss wants us to get him some extra candy! Which means you will have to give it to us. Don’t make us ask twice.”

Ethan sobs as they attempt to grab the bags from their hands. “ Stop !”

“Or  what ?” Lock pushes him. His large figure falls onto the floor harshly. “Are you gonna tattle on us?”

The other two cohorts shake their heads in disappointment. “You’d be really stupid to try that.”

Before they attempt to push them down any further, a feminine yell interrupts them. The kids jump in alarm as a tall woman approaches them with a displeased look on her face.

“You stop picking on those kids   right now  !”  

Lock, Shock, and Barrel freeze in their spots. The bags fall from their small hands as they turn around and find Sally Finklestein standing a few feet away from them. She has her hands clenched to her sides and her eyes firmly narrowed - completely upset at the scene she has just witnessed. In this silence, the mummy boy helps Ethan back to his feet and the hastily three collect their candy. Before the trick-or-treaters can do anything, they suddenly flee on the spot, running as far and quickly as they can. Shock lets out a frustrated groan at the sight before turning sharply to the older woman, pointing an accusing finger in her direction.

“Hey! What’s your problem, lady!?”

“Why are you treating those kids like that?” Sally implores with a frown. “You can’t bully them out of their candy! That is just...despicable!”

The three look at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter.  ‘Despicable ..?’ They guffaw right there on the floor, slamming their hands on their stomach amusingly. The ragdoll watches them with a confused look. Then she gets upset and steps even closer, wanting these mischievous children to understand how unacceptable their actions are. She points in the direction the others left in.

“I want you to go to them and apologize, right now!”

“Who do you think you are? Our mom?” The devil inquires sarcastically.

Shock laughs right with him while Barrel tilts his head at her tall figure. He suddenly tugs on his cohort’s sleeve and leans forward to whisper something. The surprised look on Lock’s face stops their laughter and he whispers another thing to Shock. The smile leaves her lips as she takes a small step forward.

“Wait..” She looks her up-and-down. “Do we  know you ?”

“ Know me..?” Sally repeats quietly. She thinks if she has ever seen these kids before in her life. Then something starts to click...a past memory she has pushed aside for a long time. It is the same ordeal Jack apologized for when they first properly talked together - how she got kidnapped by that wretched Bug King, years ago...it is almost terrifying to remember.

She was newly-created at the time, by the hands of the town’s mad scientist, Dr. Finklestein. She was only alive for a few days before Halloween Town was completely overrun by horrible bugs. She got separated from her creator at the time, and was suddenly stuffed into a bag by the hands of three small children. She remembered the way they giggled when they stuffed her in the bathtub, speaking to her as if she were Jack Skellington. Her heart sinks remembering how she didn’t even know him, at the time. And the way she reacted when she first saw the Boogeyman...the sheer terror displayed on her face when he insisted on keeping her captive...

“That’s it!” Barrel exclaims. “She’s the one we kidnapped for Oogie! Susan!”

“Not ‘Susan’, you idiot!” Lock smacks him upside the head. “It was….erm...uh….”

“ Sally  !” Shock slaps her forehead in realization. The other’s eyes widen before they look back at her, then make small  ‘ah’ sounds. They look at each other again before laughing once more,  slapping their knees this time. The ragdoll is even more insulted this time, but it is nothing compared to how she feels with their next words:

“Oh, man! Didn’t Jack have to come and save you? How helpless  are  you? And you think you can boss  us around!?” The witch giggles. “I think the Doctor forgot to give you a brain!”

“Hey, what’s that over there?” Barrel abruptly points in a direction.

The others follow his finger and notice a newly-constructed building in this part of Halloween Town. They read the sign plastered outside proudly - “ Sally’s Sewing Shop ”. The pristine paint, the intact windows and doors...it certainly catches their attention. Both Lock and Shock stroke their chins the longer they look at it. Plenty of ideas stir in their mind, wondering just how they can vandalize it and make their work look proud. Sally frowns as she notices the expression on their faces. Panic settles in her leaves. She doesn’t feel right about any part of this situation at all.

“No!” She exclaims firmly. “Whatever you’re thinking of...don’t do it!”

“Is that YOUR sewing shop?” Shock teases. “I don’t remember THAT being there before..”

“How’d you get it?” Lock asks curiously. At her silence, he gives a knowing look at the other two. “Guys, don’t you remember those rumors in Town? That Jack got a  girlfriend ?”

“Ew!” Barrel and Shock stick out their tongues in disgust. Then they realize his words and grin devilishly. “I mean, yes... we do !”

“I bet  he got you that shop! And I bet how upset he’d be if something happened to it...because some doll wasn’t watching her mouth around Boogie’s Boys!”

Something snaps in her at those words. She doesn’t appreciate how cocky they sound, nor the coy smile that boy has when he says them. She steps forward and clenches her fists tightly. So tight she can feel the seams begin to weaken….her eyes widen as she comes even closer and the three take a step back. They notice her stiff posture and the smile is promptly wiped off their faces. In a dark tone, Sally Finklestein warns them:

 “You will NOT be going anywhere NEAR my shop! And if you do, Jack will bring the WORST punishment on you three that you have ever SEEN! Do I make myself clear!?”

They don’t appreciate being talked to like this. But they think twice of it, and decide it’s not worth the trouble right now. They * can * get in serious hot water with Jack whenever he is angry - they’ve learned that lesson plenty in the past. And knowing this is his girlfriend...that would make things worse! They decide to drop it for now, only out of caution, and exchange a defeated nod with each other. They stick their tongues out at her before scurrying off in a random direction, glancing back only once to snicker wickedly. She is left standing there, fuming, as their small figures disappear through a gate. She releases her fists and lets out a sigh, worryingly glancing back at her shop and feeling the anxiety start to raise in her leaves.

  ‘I should talk with Jack…’

----  

Sally is disappointed to learn that the skeleton has to cancel their arrangement that afternoon, as the Mayor is overworking him especially on this day. She shares some understanding, knowing he took the day off with her not too long ago just to spend some time together...he asks her if there’s anything urgent she needs to tell him - and she decides to bite her tongue, for now. She can spill everything about it to him tonight, when they can relax together after dinner, and all of his work is off his shoulders…

Finding she has a free afternoon, she decides to visit the Witches in their shop. They told her she is free to come by anytime, and that they’re interested in getting to know her. This certainly holds true, as the women inform her it’s their own lunch break, and insist on bringing her to a small arrangement with the other women in town. They demand on doing it to make up for the cruelty they all showed her in the past. She’s almost nervous accepting such an invitation, but agrees to it in the end. She  would like to make new friends, after all…!

Sally Finklestein is led to a small table in the Residential part of town, shaded by an umbrella, where the Undersea Gal and Corpse Mom are currently sitting at, sipping small cups of tea and eating at plates with sandwiches on them. She is surprised at how welcome she is received, as there is no trouble making room for her the moment they spot her. She brings her own lunch to the table, a small bowl of worm and pea soup, before comfortably sitting beside the witches.

“Sally! We’ve been wanting to see you for some time now.” The Corpse Mom adjusts her glasses with a smile. “We just want to know all about what you’re up to..!”

“Your shop must be getting so many customers. I would visit you myself, if I had any need for clothes.” The fish butts in. “What I’ve heard from everyone else is terrible!”

“Oh, please..” She bats her eyes at their words. “It’s really nothing special. I am busy with all the clothes I’m making, but it’s only to help everyone in town.”

“You won that award on Halloween..! I would say it was rightfully deserved!” Helgamine exclaims, almost too passionately. It’s clear she’s making an effort, at least.

“You made my little boy some new clothes. He goes through them quicker than the vampires getting out of the sun.” The large woman sets down her sandwich. “We are all incredibly thankful for what you do.”

Her ruby lips curve into a smile. This is going all so well..! The five of them start having an incredibly deep conversation, speaking about how things are going in town. She appreciates getting to hear from some of the residents she doesn’t know. They don’t seem all that upset with her presence and even ask plenty of questions to her. She grows more comfortable the longer they speak, and a full hour passes before their lunches are finished, and they are now drinking through their cups and enjoying the afternoon.

“You are such a delight, Sally.” The Undersea Gal compliments her. “We should get together more often..!”

The witches bow their heads and look another way at this suggestion. They agree regardless, and the creation appreciates this gesture. Before further words can be exchanged, the loud sound of a door slamming shut interrupts them. The women snap their heads in the direction, to find an angry shopkeeper disposing of unwanted customers. Sally isn’t surprised when it’s the same trick-or-treaters from before.

Lock, Shock, and Barrel rub their backs in pain as they remove themselves from the floor. They throw their hands angrily up in the air. “Hey! How could you treat your own customers like this? We’re just kids!”

“Yeah - rotten little brats, is what you three are!” He rebuts angrily, returning to his shop. “Come back when you know how to follow the rules!”

The figures flinch as the door slams shut again, even louder this time. The three exchange angry frowns before nodding and reaching into their bag, surfacing rolls of toilet paper and straws. It’s clear to any outsider what is going to happen - they’re going to play a classic  ‘trick’ on the unfortunate owner. Sally frowns as she witnesses this, and begins to stand in her chair to stop them. The other women notice and push her back down in her seat, giving her a firm shake of the heads.

“You don’t want to do that, dear.” The mother warns her. “Those three are more than you can handle.”

“I scared them off from my shop earlier.” She crosses her arms angrily. “They threatened to vandalize it, and I made it very clear Jack would punish them for it if they did.”

“You must’ve gotten lucky.” The Undersea Gal rolls her eyes. “They’ll never leave anyone alone before getting either candy, or playing a trick. They’re the worst trick-or-treaters in town, and I don’t mean that as a compliment..!”

The witches stand from their chair, shaking their heads and letting out disappointed  ‘tsks’ . “Children..! They just never learn, do they, sister?” Zeldaborne asks. Helgamine agrees as the two leave the table.

Sally and the others watch curiously as they confront the kids. They were in the middle of throwing the paper all over the building and preparing some spit wads. They notice their visitors and resort to name-calling and screams, before the two women flick their wrists and begin to chant a spell. Without any warning, a purple glow is cast on the trick-or-treaters, freezing them mid-air and forcing them to drop everything in their hands. They struggle in their grip and yell harshly at them. Helgamine grins in satisfaction.

“Now, are you three going to scram before we have to turn you into toads again?” She asks. “And this time, we’ll make it last for more than 3 days!”

“No! Don’t do that to us!” Barrel struggles to move his arms. “Not  again !”

“Then promise you’ll leave and quit bugging everyone! We don’t want you here, and we don’t know how many times we have to say it..!”

“Not until you learn how to behave!” Zeldaborne adds before turning to one of them. “And Shock, you know how disappointed we are in you..! You could be learning how to be a proper witch instead of all this nonsense!”

The little girl laughs bravely. “From who?  You hags? I would never want to!”

They move their fingers and the glow grows only stronger. The kids groan as the grip is tightened. It doesn’t take long before they begin to plead.  “Please, stop! We’ll go!” “Yeah! Far away!” “-Back to our treehouse!”  

“Good. Off you go, then.”

They release the spell, and the three land on the ground harshly again. They throw sour looks in their direction before grabbing their stuff and running off. It’s clear they’re more afraid this time, as they don’t even bother looking back. The witches clean their hands off before returning to the other women at the table, sitting back down casually and acting as if nothing had happened at all. Sally is in awe at what happened, and smiles in delight at them.

“That really works..?”

“Oh, yes. We’ve had to throw so many spells on them just to stop their shenanigans.” Helgamine huffs. “It’s expensive to keep doing it, and it seems like every week we have to..! I wish they would stay in that treehouse of theirs.”

“Who exactly are they..?” She inquires. “They kidnapped me once, to give to their  ‘boss’ . That was when that Bug King took over the town.”

“Right. That  debacle.” The Undersea Gal frowns at the memory. “They are trick-or-treaters, obviously, but they’re more of miscreants. Always causing trouble and bringing bad things with them..! None of us want them here.”

“That’s right! They do all of these awful, nasty things for that terrible Oogie Boogie...they are never good news. Don’t believe them if they promise anything to you.” The Corpse Mom shivers in her seat. “They’ll just wreck your stuff and bully your boys just to get free candy!”

“We believe in the name of trick-or-treating, we truly do! But they take their  ‘tricks’ to such levels…” Zeldaborne clenches her hands. “No matter how much candy you give them, they’ll keep coming back and demanding more each time!”

The Undersea Gal comes forward and lays a scaly hand on her shoulder. “Don’t ever let them into your shop, Sally, or even around it for Halloween’s sake! They will only cause trouble for you. Believe me. It’s happened to all of us.”

She frowns at all this information. She can believe it. Those words they said to her earlier...none of it was good news. “How come such children behave this way? How could they work for someone so awful? And what you said, Zeldaborne...that girl doesn’t even want to become a witch like you two. How could that be?”

“ -That Oogie Boogie !” They all exclaim, angrily, in unison. She looks around the table in confusion.

“He makes those little ones work for him, and it is just so cruel.” Corpse Mom frowns. “He constantly feeds them candy and junk food all day, and lets them do whatever they want! He’s the reason why they cause so much mischief.”

“They live in a treehouse in the Hinterlands forest. Far from town, but not far  enough , in my opinion!” Zeldaborne waves her fist in the air angrily. The other creatures sigh and nod in agreement.

“Oogie Boogie is terrible news. You don’t want to meet him, which is why you should avoid those trick-or-treaters at all costs. It’s best you don’t catch their attention, otherwise the Boogeyman will know about  you , too.” Helgamine warns Sally darkly.

She wishes to ask them more about this subject, but the ladies insist on changing topics - to something more... cheerful . She slumps in her seat as they begin to talk about business in town. She joins in the conversation when necessary, but her mind feels... troubled , and overwhelmed with all this information. She can’t get the image of those children out of her mind, and finds that somehow, somewhere , deep down...she feels a little sad for them.

----

The rest of the day is spent cautiously in her shop. She finds herself hanging around near her front door more often, constantly peering around the streets in search of those miscreants again. She’s relieved to find no sight of them, and is quick to close her sewing shop once the time comes. She makes sure she locks the door and closes the curtains before leaving for the Skellington Manor. Ophelia blinks worriedly at her owner from the basket held in the crook of her arm. The ragdoll seems so tense, that even an animal like her can sense it..!

She makes her way through the doors and relaxes once she’s inside. She lets Ophelia onto the floor and discards her wicker basket on the table. The cat happily meets with the ghostly dog and the two retreat to the other end of the room. She watches them run off before suddenly being met with two long arms wrapping around her figure. She smiles as she feels Jack Skellington hugging her, digging his skull into her shoulder. His pumpkin cologne eases her instantly.

“Welcome home, Sal..!” He greets her proudly in her ear. She hugs him back tightly.

“Glad to be home, Jack…”

He withdraws after a moment, allowing her to get comfortable. It is still a little early before dinner has to be made, so the skeleton joins her side and rests on the cushions of the couch. The animals are playing on the carpet in front of them, giving quite an amusing sight to the Manor’s residents. He chuckles when Ophelia manages to paw at Zero’s pumpkin nose, which lights up in alarm at the contact. Sally catches this scene and giggles as well.

“Aren’t they adorable together?”

“They certainly are.” He agrees with a knowing tone. Zero catches their words and quietly growls, only to be cut off when the black cat paws at him again.

“He won’t admit it, but I know Zero’s gotten very fond of her.” The tall man informs his girlfriend. “He enjoys the company so much, he waits right by the door for you to return from your shop with Ophelia!”

“Does he, now?” The ragdoll teases and the dog turns away. “I’m so glad he loves the new addition to our little family..!”

The apparition decides he’s had enough of their teasing and flies entirely into another room. The cat is confused at this gesture and runs straight after him. The two figures laugh from the couch as they watch them disappear through a doorway. They’re left alone now, and the silence starts to linger. She goes to cuddle with Jack and sighs in relief once she’s in his grip. She still has to tell him about her day...but she’d rather do that after they’ve eaten….

“Would you like me to cook dinner tonight?” She offers. He thinks about the idea, stroking his finger along hers.

“Why don’t we make something  together ..? We’ve haven’t done that yet..!”

“Cooking together?” She blinks in interest. “I’ve never done such a thing...sharing the kitchen was never an option because, well, the Doctor had trouble with cooking!”

“Not a problem for me.” He picks her up in one smooth movement from the couch. She lets out a surprised noise before hugging his frame tightly. “Why, we should get started right now..!”

He moves his skull down to brush his nasal bone against her nose. She enjoys the touch while he brings them into the kitchen within only a few steps. He lets her down and starts searching through a cookbook. She joins his side and, after a few minutes, the two agree on a special meal to make together. It’s a new experience entirely to be cooking by the Pumpkin King - she’s always thought sharing a kitchen would feel cramped and bothersome, but it is entirely the opposite! Rarely would they bump elbows or get in the other’s way; it is delightful to help pour the ingredients in bowls and have him reach anything she can’t.

They spend a wonderful time cooking a casserole together, and by the time it’s finished, they’re both eager to try it. They waste no time helping themselves to their servings, sitting in the dining room to share this meal they made together. She feels almost excited as she squirms in her seat, eagerly stabbing her fork through the food and bringing it to her lips, savoring the taste…It doesn’t take very long until she comes to a judgement.

“It’s...delicious!” She exclaims. He takes his own bite and soon agrees.

“Absolutely wonderful! See? We make such good things together..! Remember the Halloween costumes?”

“That we do...it was delightful, Jack. I hope we do this again.”

“Then we will.” He replies smoothly before taking another bite.

She relaxes completely in her seat as they resume their meal, finishing it shortly with its tempting flavors. They return to the living room to cuddle once more, allowing their supper to be digested. The pets have long moved on in the house, but they don’t mind being alone at that moment. He especially misses her contact after not making it to their lunch together that day...he feels guilty having to be away, and frowns as he combs his hand through her yarn hair. He’s obligated to ask.

“How did your day go, my love? It didn’t trouble you that I couldn’t make it to our arrangement, did it? The soup you made was very good...”

“Oh, it was fine. I know you have plenty of work with the Mayor.” She nestles his side sweetly. “I went into town and had lunch with the Witches and a few other women from town.”

“Did that go well?”

“Yes. They’ve been wanting to make it up to me for what they said in the past. And we had a lovely time together. We talked so much about my shop and what’s been going on in the town…except, well…”

He notices her hesitation and leans forward. “Except…?” He inquires, crooking an eye socket.

“I had an unexpected encounter today, with...well, some children.” She awkwardly begins explaining. “I met the trick-or-treaters today. I found them picking on the Corpse Kid, the Mummy boy, and the winged demon...I just had to put a stop to it, so I interrupted them. It didn’t go quite as I planned…”

“You met with Lock, Shock, and Barrel?” The skeleton asks in surprise. She waits before nodding. “Did they give you any trouble?”

“Well, yes * and * no. They noticed my shop and threatened to do something to it, before I told them you would punish them if they did. And then they ran off. But when I had lunch with those ladies, we noticed them picking on some of the shopkeepers in town. The Witches stepped in and put an end to it, but-”

“-They’re a lot of trouble, Sally.” He interrupts her, waving a skeletal finger. “You need to be wary of them.”

“That’s exactly what they said.” She sighs. “But, Jack, who exactly are they? They told me they were miscreants and trick-or-treaters, but that’s all I really know…”

He hums before removing his arms and sitting upright. She can tell this is a serious subject and allows him to collect his thoughts. After a moment, he replies, “-They’re Halloween Town’s  finest trick-or-treaters. And by that, really, they’re just good at what they do. Which is to get candy and pull tricks. But they cause much more trouble than they’re worth, and often try to give me and the Mayor a hard time…”

She leans forward and listens intently, wanting to know more about these children. “Where did they come from? I heard they don’t have any parents.”

“No. They don’t.” He frowns. “They came into town a long time ago, recently deceased at the time, I believe...they caused a lot of trouble back then, not particularly interested in meeting us, but demanding candy from everyone and pulling lots of pranks and tricks on them. It was overwhelming for me and the Mayor, and we tried our best to put a stop to it but...we weren’t very successful, you see…”

She blinks at his story.

“We were desperate and out of options trying to get these kids to behave. I could only scare them so much to put them in line. Not to mention, we had Halloween to worry about, and couldn't babysit them all the time. We eventually brought them to someone whom we thought could correct their behavior...but it hasn’t worked since.”

“Did you bring them to the boogeyman?”

He flinches at the word and visibly tenses. She is about to ask why until he grits his teeth and continues. “-- Yes . We brought them to Oogie Boogie thinking he could correct their behavior...but he took advantage of it instead, and made them his henchmen. They carry all his wrongdoings now since he can’t leave his casino.”

“And why can’t he?”

“I banished him. The same day he kidnapped you, and I met you for the first time.” He finds it within himself to smile softly, reaching for her hand and holding it firmly. “He had to be punished for what he did with the town, and trying to overthrow me. It’s the only way he can get what he wants - by making those children do all his dirty work for him.”

“Don’t you feel bad for them..? That they are under his control, and they had so much potential to be innocent little children…”

“It’s a difficult situation.” He sighs exasperatedly. “I’ve given them plenty of opportunities to better themselves and get * away * from Oogie Boogie, but they never seem to want to do it. They insist on telling him everything and involving him in everything I’ve asked them to do. He inevitably has some influence on them, one way or another.”

He notices her picking her seams nervously(a habit he might scold her for, it worries him immensely that she'll pull herself apart), and brings her gaze back to his. He tells her firmly. “Sally, everything those witches and women told you is true. They are trouble and do not come with good intentions. Please, avoid them all you can, and let me know immediately if they start bothering you and your shop.”

“I will. I don’t trust them.” She replies firmly, then softens her gaze. “But I still feel so bad for those children…”

“As do I. But, please, it is not your situation to fix. Don’t worry about them. Eventually, I’m sure they’ll overgrow everything and want to move on ....” He begins to mutter with his sentence, and snaps himself out of it. “Just don’t talk to them or let them inside your shop. Understand?”

She nods again. He drops the subject from there and announces that it’s time to get ready for bed. She obliges and follows him into their room together, changing into their pajamas for the night and freshening up before heading into bed. They sleep together closely, with Jack holding her unusually tight, more so than normal. The entire evening, she thinks of those children and the boogeyman…and her first encounter with all of them….