#no wonder i have to go downstairs and scream and take a shower and release every single one of my thoughts onto this app

[lokiiied]

me sat there pretending to be normal while watching ted lasso with my dad

[earlgreydream]

rough.

| draco x reader | angst | smut |

enemies to lovers 🖤

anon requested. theyre enemies but deep down theres a sexual tension and one day theyre on vacation and have to stay in one room together

cw: angst, name-calling (degradation), hate-fucking, very slightly dubcon

.

“I can’t stand you! I don’t want to stay in a room with you!” You shouted, shoving him away from you.

“I’m just as angry as you! I don’t know how the hell this happened!” Draco snapped, pushing past you into your shared hotel room.

You had gone on vacation to America with some of your schoolmates, and due to a mix up in the planning, you and Draco had ended up in the same hotel room. To make matters worse, the room only had one bed.

Draco was your sworn enemy since first year. He’d embarrassed you in front of the Weasley twins, the boys you had a crush on, and you’d retaliated by tainting the love potion he gave to Pansy. It had started seven years of fighting and backbiting, the two of you always at each other’s throats and never seeing eye to eye.

It had become second nature to fight with Draco. Screaming matches with him lit a specific fire in your belly— different from anything else. It burned through you, igniting every nerve in your body. You thought it was anger, though it proved to be more when nothing satiated the rage, and your mind began to wander.

The electrically charged energy between you was hard to ignore. It was like a live wire, blazing everything in its wake, or an oil spill, turning everything flammable.

.

“Malfoy-” you started, but you were cut off by his sharp glare.

“I was going to suggest that we change quickly and meet the others in the lobby. I was going to ask if I could use the loo, but I was going to give you the courtesy of offering it first,” you hissed, and he shook his head.

“Go, it’s fine.”

You stepped into the bathroom, closing the door. You were desperate for some distance from Draco. You freshened up in the mirror, not taking too long so you didn’t get him even more agitated than he already was.

“What are we going to do about-?”

“We’re going to worry about it when the time comes,” you interrupted, glancing at the one bed.

The bathroom door slammed shut, leaving you alone in the small room. There wasn’t a couch— and the chair simply wasn’t adequate. Ultimately, you both knew the two of you were going to end up in bed together that night, whether you liked it or not.

A deep sigh left your lips, and you grabbed your bag, preparing to meet your friends downstairs. Draco locked the door behind the two of you, and the elevator ride was painfully silent. 

.

“My two favorite people. Sorry about the room situation,” Theo grinned, opening his arms as you walked up to him. 

You stepped into his chest, letting tattooed limbs wrap around you. He kissed the top of your head, grinning into your hair. 

“If Malfoy’s mean to you, you just let me know, okay? I’ll take care of him,” Theo promised you, finally getting you to giggle. 

“Maybe tell her not to be a right bi-”

“Draco, baby, try a little harder,” Theo hummed, kissing Malfoy’s cheek before getting pushed off. You laughed at them. 

Seven years, and you still wondered how it was possible for Theo-- the sweetest boy in the world, to be best friends with Draco Malfoy-- the devil’s incarnate. 

“Come on, we’ll get breakfast then catch the ferry,” Cedric said, handing out ferry passes to your group: Draco, Theo, Blaise, Fred, George, Hermione, Ginny, Pansy, Cedric, and you. 

Hermione took your hand, pulling you from the Slytherin boys. 

“It’s going to be fun. And besides, we’ll only be sleeping in the rooms. It’s not a problem,” Hermione assured you, the girls walking ahead of the others.

“Except there is only one bed,” you muttered, and Ginny and Pansy spun to look at you. 

“Are you serious?” Ginny giggled, and you smacked her arm. 

“It is not funny!”

They held their hands up in defense, though their amusement was clear. You took the subway to the ferry, crowded with American muggles. 

“Careful!” Draco hissed in your ear, catching you ask you lost your balance. His hand went around your waist, pinning you to his chest. 

“M’sorry, I slipped!” you were thankful for him holding onto you, even if you’d never admit it. You gripped the pole for support, trying not to lean into him too much. He helped you off of the train, and you took Theo’s hand as you boarded the ferry. 

“Look at the statue!” you gasped, admiring the skyline and leaning on the railing of the boat as you road to Staten Island. 

“Don’t fall,” Draco came to your other side. 

“Are you serious? Draco, I’m not a child!” you snapped.

“You’re leaning on the railing, and we can’t be using magic to drag you out of the water!”

You shot him an indignant look, and climbed up to stand on the railing. Even Theo looked anxious at your actions. 

“Get the fuck down, right now.” Draco’s grey eyes were wide, and you stared back at him, daring him to touch you. 

“We’re going to dock, and it’ll knock the-” Theo was interrupted before he could finish his sentence. The boat stopped suddenly, and as you caught yourself, Draco grabbed your waist, pulling you off of the railing. 

You shrieked, struggling away as he pulled you down. He refused to let go of you, and you tried to shove him off. 

“Knock it off. And quit doing dangerous shit,” Draco swatted your ass through your denim shorts, making Theo choke on his water bottle. You immediately stilled, staring at him in horror. 

“Did you just spank me?” You gasped, startled. 

He let go of you, answering with only a cold look. You shook your head and went to join the others, Theo and Draco falling into conversation with Cedric and Blaise. 

“What happened back there? We heard you yelling,” Hermione asked, grinning behind her oversized mirrored sunglasses.

“Draco just being an ass. It’s fine,” you said, stealing her sunglasses and putting them on. 

“Come on, let’s go have some fun.”

. 

You spent the day sightseeing, walking around Staten Island before going back to Manhattan. The sun was warm overhead, the summer heat getting to your minds. You’d managed to avoid bickering with Draco most of the day, but now the sun was hanging low in the sky, casting a golden-orange glow over everything. You were drinking cocktails at a place near Times Square, tired from being on your feet all day.

“Tomorrow we’re going to the MET,” Theo said, checking the plans. 

You stayed out late, talking and laughing until the lights of the city had drowned out the ink-black sky. You were tired, a little buzzed, overly hot, and you wanted to sleep. 

.

“What the hell was that on the ferry? Do you think you can just-?” Draco grabbed your arm, cutting off your rant that you’d saved until you were in private, not wanting to fight in front of your friends. Your back hit the hotel room door, Draco’s chest pressed up against yours.

“Do I think I can just what? Knock that bullshit little smirk off of your face?” Draco seethed. 

“Tell me what to do!” You pushed his shoulders, though he didn’t move.

“It’s clear that you can’t be trusted to make good choices on your own.”

“That’s rich coming from you-” you hissed, feeling the familiar burning spread through your abdomen. 

“You should learn a little respect,” Draco’s hand wrapped around your throat, the rings on his fingers cold against your warm skin. A moan escaped you before you could stop it, and his eyebrows shot up. 

“Is this what you need? Do you just need to have the bitch fucked out of you?” You squirmed, gripping his wrist and trying to pry his hand off of your throat. 

You were seething, the energy between you becoming intensely sexually charged. You hated yourself for growing aroused, but you couldn’t keep the heat from spreading through your body, and you were becoming keenly aware of your throbbing sex. 

Draco pushed his knee between your thighs, and you shook your head. 

“No, no.”

“No? You aren’t horny and desperate? I know how much you hate me, and I know you’ve been dying to release all that pent up energy. You’re going to be sleeping in the same bed with me tonight, trapped under the sheets with my body. If you don’t act now, you’ll have to go untouched for the next week of this trip...” he smirked, knowing he had leverage, able to see how desperate you were. 

Truly, Draco was desperate for you too. You made him so angry, but you managed to turn him on as you got under his skin. He was aroused now, growing harder as he watched you squirm in pure need. He was waiting to hear you say yes, to give in. He may have hated you, but he wasn’t an animal. 

You bit your lip so hard you tasted metal, trying to hold in a scream. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths, your eyes narrowed into a glare. His thigh was pressed against your sex, and you fought against the urge to grind against him, desperate for friction. 

“Fuck,” you swore, and Draco squeezed your throat, making you whimper. 

“Is that a no, Y/N? Do you want me to let go of you? Let you go finger yourself in the shower?” he mocked you. 

“I hate you.”

“I know. It’s mutual, love.”

“Alright, Draco. Please fuck me. But this doesn’t mean anything!”

He smirked, letting go of you and tossing his shirt aside. You rid your own clothes with his, freezing as your eyes lingered on his naked body. The need and arousal pulsing through your body was overpowering, and just the sight of him was making you falter. 

“Do you need me to do everything for you? Get over here,” Draco’s hand wrapped around your elbow, tugging you toward him. He ripped your panties off, the veins in his hand flexing at the display of strength.

“Draco!”

“Save it.”

Draco hauled you to the bed, bending you over the edge. You struggled, trying to sit up. He shoved your head back down, pressing your chest against the duvet. 

“Are you serious?” you snapped as he gripped your wrists in one hand, holding them at the small of your back. 

“You’re going to lay here and be good or you’re not going to get fucked at all,” Draco threatened, and you burned in shame. You stopped straining yourself to look at him, residing to resting your head on your side, ceasing your struggle against his hold. 

A choked groan left your lips as Draco slammed into your cunt all at once. He buried himself deep enough to where his hips were pressed to your ass, his body bent over yours. Draco slammed into you, frustration powering his rough thrusts. You writhed under his strong grip, moaning and squealing as he tore into your tight heat. Even with how wet you were, your body spasmed at the force. 

It felt primal, rough, and dirty. 

Fucking Draco was scandalous, even for you. The two of you getting so angry that the energy had to be channeled into sex felt deviant, Draco’s cock tainting your innocence with every thrust. 

You felt better than Draco had imagined. Your noises were erotic, encouraging him more than the momentum he was gaining. He kicked your legs further apart, shoving himself deeper into your sex. Your moan was muffled by the duvet, squeezing your eyes shut. It felt like he was tearing you open, and you couldn’t get enough. Your head was spinning, and your fingers flexed, the only part of your body you could move freely against his hold. 

“You’re fucking divine,” Draco breathed, reaching his hand under the two of you. His fingers found the area where your bodies connected, sliding upward through your folds. 

“Draco, fuck, please!” you cried, arching your back as he pressed against your nerves. 

“Please what, love? Are you going to quit being contrary?”

“Yes, I’ll do anything, just please touch me there,” you begged, abandoning your stubbornness.

You buried your face in the bed and screamed, your back curving into a bow as he fucked into you in time with the circles he was tracing with skilled fingers.

Draco swore as you pulsed around him, squeezing his cock as you cried from euphoria. Electricity shot through your limbs, your orgasm ripping through your body. Draco was quick to follow, pulling out and coming over your ass, watching you shudder and throb around nothing. 

As his memories being frustrated with you returned, he continued his assault on your clit, pinching you harshly to watch you writhe and scream. 

“Draco, Draco, I’m sorry, I’ll be nice, just stop!” you squealed, trying to kick him as he overstimulated you. 

He released you as you asked, taking in the sight of your absolutely wrecked body. Your arms were shaking as you brought them under you, trying to push yourself up onto your elbows. You heaved in deep breaths, still trembling as you came down from your high. 

Draco wiped down your skin for you, finding some decency. 

“Hey, look at me. You alright?” Draco held your jaw, tilting your face up. You nodded, and he slid boxers up his leg before digging for something in his jacket pocket. 

“Y/N. Come here,” Draco’s voice was low and husky, his back to you. 

You forced yourself to stand up, your legs weak as you stepped toward him. You followed Draco onto the balcony, where he sat down on a lounge chair. Ringed fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you to sit sideways on his lap. 

His touch was no longer aggressive or harsh, but instead moving you with authority. You held a blanket loosely around your body, shielding you from the cool night air. 

Draco didn’t speak as he pulled a cigarette from the box, putting it between his lips. He lit the end before setting the box and the lighter on the table, leaning his head back and taking a drag. He held your jaw, pressing his lips against yours before exhaling the smoke into your mouth. 

He turned, watching the city lights glitter around you. He offered you the cigarette, and you accepted, sharing with him. 

“Our secret?” you asked softly, and his silver gaze connected with his.

“Our secret.”

“Do you still hate me?” 

The corners of Draco’s lips pulled up, and his fingers brushed over your bare back, his hand resting at the base of your spine. 

“Only when it serves me, I suppose,” he murmured, and you fought off a smile.

“You’ll not bite me in my sleep then?”

“Full of questions. I make no promises, I’ve found I rather like how you taste.”

He kissed you then, under the city lights, tasting like smoke and sage and secrets. 

[waywardnerd67]

The Towel Drop

Title: The Towel Drop Summary: After seeing videos on social media, Jensen decides to take part in a unique challenge. Paring: Jensen Ackles x Reader Word Count: 1376 Rating: X - Explicit Warnings: Fluff/Smut Square Filled: Jensen Ackles Bingo Card: Tell Me A Story Bingo - @supernatural-jackles​ A/N: None

Check Out: Tell Me A Story Bingo Masterlist

Jensen was sitting in his office killing time waiting for (Y/N) to finish her classes for the day. Currently he was down the Facebook videos rabbit hole. Cute pet videos, phony texts stories, but his favorite were the reaction videos from people walking in on their partners naked. He found himself sitting there for half an hour laughing at them. Then an idea popped into his head.

He walked into their master bathroom stripping off all his clothes. It was hard to believe that almost a year ago he was looking in the mirror as Dean Winchester for the last time. Now, his hair was past his ears. His beard was fully grown in and bushy driving (Y/N) crazy. His body was even forenign to him with a steady diet of protein and veggies along with weightlifting five days a week. As Misha had commented recently he Hulked up.

Turning on the shower, he stepped beneath the scalding water. Allowing the heat to relax his muscles he began his normal routine. Once he was out, Jensen wrapped a towel around his waist slicking his hair back with his hands. He glanced down at his phone seeing her last class of the day should be ending soon. The fluttering in his stomach sent waves of excitement throughout his body.

Jensen walked out of their room and downstairs to (Y/N)’s office. She could hear her laughter coming from behind the door. He was thankful that she had faced her desk towards the door so her students would not have to see if he walked in. Dropping the towel to the floor, he opened the door slowly peeking around the corner. Her eyes were focused on the two monitors filled with the faces of high schoolers.

He stepped inside the doorway placing his hands on his hips. (Y/N) virtual teaching during the pandemic had shown him how much he loved watching her work. For hours, he would listen to her teach about Shakesphere and Beowulf. By the time she would get a break he would be in desperate need of a release carrying her off to their couch and ravishing her.

“Alright, your research papers need to be ten pages, double space, times roman and twelve point font. Make sure you use MLA formatting and citation for your sources. This paper counts as half your final…”

She looked up to see him standing there naked his cock getting harder with each word she spoke. Slowly he wrapped his fingers around himself staring right at her.

She swallowed hard, “Um… this paper counts as half of your final grade. Are there any q-questions?” Her eyes trailed up his body biting her lip.

He could not hear her students due to the headphones covering her ears. Lazily he stroked himself leaning against her door frame. She shook her head, a beautiful smile spreading across her face.

“Yes Marie, that is a perfect subject for this paper. Okay, that is all for today. I will see you guys on Friday.” She finally tore her eyes away from him waving to her monitor before they snapped back up to him, “Jensen Ackles, what in the hell are you doing?”

He shrugged, still running his hand over his hard length, “I thought I would catch your reaction.”

Her laughter filled the room, “Oh my god, you’ve been watching Facebook videos again.”

“May-be.” He watched as she stood walking towards him, her eyes focused on his hand.

“Was my reaction everything you were hoping for?” She licked her bottom lip dragging it beneath her teeth.

He gently squeezed the base of his dick moaning softly, “Depends on what happens next pretty girl.”

A shiver went down his spine as she got on her knees in front of him and parted her lips, “What are you waiting for? I’m dying to taste you.”

He rubbed the tip across her lips before pushing into her mouth. His body trembled, sighing at the sudden warmth and vibration from her moaning around him. Her hands gripped his thighs digging her nails into them as he pulled out of her and pushed back in.

“Fuuuck…” He rolled his head back against his shoulders as she took control, bobbing her head along his length.

Gathering her hair in his hands, Jensen tugged her head back gently, her mouth popping off his cock. She groaned in disappointment, a trail of spit going down her chin.

“Babe… I wasn’t done yet…”

He chuckled, “I need to come inside of you and the way you were sucking me off I was going to make it.”

Jensen picked her wrapping her legs around him and made it as far as the stairs before she wiggled out of his grasp. He watched her remove her clothes quickly flinging them in every direction before kneeling on the stairs. He sucked in a breath as she parted her legs and stuck her perfect ass in the air. Her fingers slipped between her slick folds.

“Need you here, now.” She begged, pushing two fingers inside of her.

Jensen’s head was already spinning from desire watching her needily fingering herself. Placing one hand on the small of her back positioning himself right at her entrance. She tried to push back onto him, but he pulled back loving the growl coming from her.

“Jensen Ackles either fuck me or let me take care of myself!”

Gripping her hips, he inched his cock inside of her. The noises escaping her lips making it damn near impossible for him to keep from fucking her into the stairs like she wanted him too. He wanted her to come completely undone, begging him before giving in to his primal desires.

Each thrust was slow, deliberate and wonderful feeling her tighten around him. He dug his fingers into her hips pulling out of her then sinking back into her snapping his hips against her. Her hands were balled into fists pounding against the stairs.

“Oh god, Jensen please… please fuck me hard. Oh fuck, please Jensen!”

And he did. The sounds of their skin connecting echoed up the stairway. His heart racing in his ears chasing after the release he badly was in need of. (Y/N) moans shaking him to his core as she pushed against every thrust he made.

“Baby, I’m so close… need to feel you come with me.”

He bent over her, reaching his hand around between her legs. His fingers rubbing against her clit as she tightened around his cock screaming his name. That’s all it took for him to fall over the edge pounding into her until he felt her body go limp in his grasp. He pushed in her one last time, shaking as he did.

“Fuck… oh my god… oh my god…” (Y/N) mumbled into the stairs before groaning loudly as he pulled out of her, “Uhh… so empty now.”

Jensen chuckled slumping against the railing, “Shit baby, I don’t think I can walk right now.”

“Me either… I’ll just take a nap right here.” She laid out over the stairs.

Finally, he was able to get himself standing and carried (Y/N) up to their bedroom where they took a nice, long nap. Waking up as the night sky was showing off the stars, they made their way back downstairs for some dinner. (Y/N) went to grab her phone from her office as he ordered some pizza.

“Shit!” She yelled, coming out in a panic, “I forgot I had a staff meeting today. Great.”

Guilt filled his chest, pulling her into his arms, “I’m sorry, that’s my fault for distracting you.”

He felt her sigh before she looked up at him, “Honestly, you probably saved me from an hour of boredom that could have been an email. I’d say being unable to walk for hours and the most amazing orgasm of my life was well worth it.”

He laughed, lifting her up on the counter and kissing her, “Well we have about an hour before the pizza is here. I think I might be in the mood for an appetizer.” He knelt down spreading her legs and diving in.

“Oh god… thank you for this man being in my life.”

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PART 2

The first days of Harry staying at your house were overshadowed by Maeve’s 5th grade spelling bee victory. The fake gold medal was a mainstay around her neck for a new nights at the dinner table until she eventually forgot about it.

Luckily enough, neither of your daughters seemed to be thrown too off kilter by his presence. Maeve was just young enough to not know much about who Harry was or the band he’d been in--though she was ready and willing to brag about having a celebrity around.

CeCe--in true sibling rivalry fashion--decided to draw her own medal with crayons and ask you to cut it out so she could wear it around the house. If Maeve gets one, so do I.

With potholders on and the oven door open, you apologized. “I can’t right now, honey--give mommy a few minutes and I’ll help you.”

Harry materialized at the bottom of the stairs, eyebrows raised when he said: “What do you need, CeCe?”

“I have to cut this out!” She said excitedly, running over to the drawer where the scissors were kept. She whipped them out and turned around quickly, Harry’s eyes bulging out of his head when he hurried over to grab them from her.

“I’ll cut, you watch,” he laughed, exchanging a look with you when CeCe climbed up to sit at the island. She hummed in agreement, handed over the paper and watched as he lined it up to start snipping.

“CeCe,” he said her name inquisitively. “Is CeCe short for anything?”

“Cecilia Rose L/N,” she smiled. “Pretty, right?”

“Very pretty,” he smiled. “Same last name as your mum.”

The last part of his sentence was a statement, a quick glance in your direction when you turned off the oven and shouted towards the stairs. “Maeve! Dinner’s ready!”

Your call went unanswered into the big house--you had no clue where she was or if she’d heard you. When Harry finished cutting out the paper medal, he handed it to CeCe who beamed with pride and put it around her neck.

Hands on your hips, “CeCe, will you please find your sister and tell her dinner is ready?”

She took one big breath and then screamed, “MAEVE!”

Both you and Harry flinched at the noise but laughed. She held onto Harry’s arm when she hopped down from the stool, shaking her head in disappointment. “Good god that girl,” she huffed, heading to climb the stairs when she yelled again: Maeve!!!! Dinner!!!!

“She’s a handful tonight,” you said, almost feeling guilty as her footsteps stomped on the floor overhead. “Thank you for that, though,” you said, motioning to the scissors in his hand. “Want a glass of wine?”

“S’not against the rules?” He teased.

When you shot him a look, he smirked and let out a laugh. “I’ll gladly take one. It’s fine, though. She was ready to stab someone flinging the scissors around like that.”

“They just had scissor safety in art class not too long ago.” You told him, pulling the cork from an already open bottle of red. “Sometimes I think she barely listens to anyone--she just does her own thing.”

“Not the worst way to be,” he smiled, picked up the glass when you slid it over on the granite. An awkward beat when he took a sip, smiled in your direction when you did the same. You could hear Maeve and CeCe fighting upstairs, offered him another guilty smile, but then he asked: “do you plan on changing your name?”

“My last name?”

“Yeah--L/N is your married name, right?”

It felt a bit nosy, a bit intrusive for the fourth night he was sleeping under your roof. You shrugged your shoulders casually, unsure how to answer. “Just haven’t gotten to it.”

He’d been quiet so far, out most of the day once the girls were gone for school and he’d return before dinner. Kept to himself--or at least out of the way--and was always helpful when he could be. Bringing groceries in? He carried a few. Needed a hand with clearing plates after dinner? He would gladly help.

Maeve and CeCe came rushing downstairs and were more willing to do the gratitude thing than they usually were, forks in hand when Maeve turned to you. “Oh, by the way, Auntie Shelli is taking us out for dinner tomorrow night.”

“She is?” You smiled at Maeve. “I haven’t heard about that.”

“She promised last week, she said Friday.”

“Okay, well I can check with her.”

“Are you doing anything tomorrow night?” Maeve asked.

“Not a thing,” you said, shaking your head. You’d been looking forward to it all week--maybe a bath and a glass of wine, maybe even a movie if you were feeling adventurous. Zoey was typically after you to do something: dinner, come hold Benny for an hour while she took a shower. You were totally up for helping a friend, but it’d been a minute since you had some me-time and if Jeff’s mom had already offered to babysit, you weren’t going to say no.

CeCe turned to Harry excitedly. “What are you doing tomorrow night? Are you coming to dinner?”

He smiled in her direction but shook his head. “I’m actually going over to a friend’s house.”

“What friend?”

“CeCe,” you laughed, embarrassed by her prying. “He doesn’t have to run everything by you, you know.”

“I know,” she said simply as she shrugged her shoulders innocently. “Just thought maybe it was one of my friends. I don’t know if we have the same friends.”

Harry laughed at this and smiled when you rolled your eyes. “I don’t think you know her.”

You watched Harry for a second, wondered if it was a girlfriend or something of the sort--Jeff hadn’t mentioned anything like that. Why couldn’t he stay there, with that friend?

“Well you should come with us and Auntie Shelli one day,” Maeve said. “We usually get ice cream and she lets us get a bunch of toppings and she doesn’t even care if we’ve had dinner yet.”

You let out a short laugh, the details of their time with family members always slipped out when you least expected it. “He’s busy, girls, remember?”

Harry shrugged, “we could get ice cream soon.”

You looked up at him, forked into a bite of dinner and said quietly: you don’t have to.

He didn’t--Harry didn’t owe you or your daughters anything except common decency and kindness. Helping you clean up after dinner or bring in the groceries was enough of a repayment for a guest room and his own bathroom.

“Maybe next week?” He ignored your comment and smiled at the girls.

“Next week!” CeCe chirped back, brushing her hair out of her face with a grin.

You figured they’d forget--swept up by the excitement of something else by the time next week rolled around and Harry would be off the hook. You smiled in his direction, apologetically and pleading, but it wasn’t until the next night that you realized he was serious.

Jeff’s mom had picked Maeve and CeCe up, you had just poured a glass of wine and went to sit in your office to go over any unread emails when he knocked on the door.

“Hey,” he offered a smile, leaned against the wall and put his hands in his pockets.

“Hi,” you turned to see him, unsure what he wanted or why he was popping in. “What’s up?”

“Uh, just wanted to let you know that my plans fell through--so, I’m just gonna be home--here I mean.”

His correction was quick, a subtle misstep through words.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, nodded slowly as you took in the information. He’d be here--in your house and just hanging out. While you had planned for a quiet night, having one other person somewhere in the house wouldn’t kill you, right? Maybe he’d lock himself away in his room and leave you to your emails, then you’d slip upstairs and end the night with a bath before your children returned with a sugar high and stories for days.

“Okay,” you said. A pause when he nodded, looked at you and then down to the floor.

“Do you want to have a drink?”

“I’ve got one,” you lifted your glass and then faltered. “Oh, together--sure, yeah.”

He held back a laugh, motioned for you to lead the way once you stood up from your desk. He trailed you back through the living room and into the kitchen, got himself a wine glass when you found the bottle you’d already started on the counter.

Was this weird? You couldn’t tell. The house was quiet and for a moment it felt like neither of you knew what to say when the only sound was the cork coming out of the bottle.

“I can venmo you for groceries, too, since m’drinking your wine.” He lifted it and poured, you watched the liquid rise in the glass until he looked up at you, waiting for a reply.

“No, it’s fine.”

“M’eating your food, drinking your wine, sleeping in your house,” he let out a laugh but put the stopper back in. “I feel like I could at least pay you back for some--” he looked down at the bottle and studied the label, “cabernet.”

You pulled out a barstool and sat, a sigh when you waved him off. “S’fine--I’m still making my way through the sorry your dad died and sorry your husband left you bottles.”

His lips pulled up at the side when yours did too. “Where do they make those grapes?”

“Somewhere far away from here,” you nodded, a long sip from your own glass when he moved to sit beside you.

“So how much did Jeff have to beg you to let me stay here?”

You looked over at him, hesitant to admit your own reluctance. You knew he and Jeff were close--you’d long been hearing stories about their nights out or big wins as a team. You’d even been invited to the release party for Harry’s first solo album, but you couldn’t find a babysitter and back then your ex couldn’t be bothered.

“I got a few pleading text messages after he first brought it up,” you smiled.

He laughed and nodded. “Well, it’s a big help. My house is over in Malibu but s’not ready yet--the only guestroom in Jeff’s house shares a wall with the master and something about that felt...weird.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. “You didn’t want to hear Jeff and random women hooking up?”

“Not in the slightest,” he shook his head and bit back a smile. “Figured I’d stay with his parents for a bit but then Irv and Shelli told me they loved me but their rules are strict: their children, grandchildren, and your children. Those are their only guests.”

You nodded, it wasn’t news to you. “One time my dad stayed over after a party and Irv almost hit him with a golf club in the morning because he’d forgotten who was on the couch.”

“Yeah, so, sounds like a good idea that I’m here.” Quiet again when he moved the glass around, then he said: “you know, I would be happy to take them to ice cream or something one night--give you a minute to yourself.”

You smiled, the offer was sweet and apparently he had no idea that he’d just ruined your one chance this week to have that. “You really don’t have to--I’m sorry that they’re so...fascinated by you.”

“No, they’re great, very sweet. Maybe I can tag along when Jeff watches them next and learn the ropes.”

You nodded, reassured by his understanding that watching them would take skill. “There’s a lot to learn, they can be quite the handful sometimes.”

“Yeah?” he tilted his head. “Tell me more about them.”

The way he looked at you stirred a feeling in your chest that you couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was just the fact that he seemed interested enough to ask about them, he already seemed more invested than their father had been over the last year. You also would never turn down an opportunity to humble-brag about the tiny humans you'd created.

“Well, Maeve is pretty straight-edge. She’s always cared a lot about school and she likes it--which is weird, cause she didn’t get that from me and she definitely didn’t get it from my ex-husband. Like, she actually gets excited to come home and do her homework.”

He laughed, sipped from his glass and said: “Right, I’m sure she didn’t get her drive and determination from her mother who started her own successful business.”

You brushed off the compliment with a roll of your eyes and a laugh. “The weird preteen-angst thing is new, though. I have no idea if that’s because of losing my dad or losing hers,” you picked at a thread on your sleeve.

He was quiet for a moment, like he didn’t know what to say to that.

“And CeCe,” you saved him the trouble, “she’s a fireball. She is so strong-willed it actually makes me nervous about when she’s a teenager. She might actually drive to Vegas and get married or something. It’s just her world and we’re living in it.”

His dimples appeared on his cheeks when you shrugged. “Well, you’ve clearly done something right with them. Jeff's always loved being an uncle."

“I appreciate that,” you said honestly, a pause before you admitted: “My ex was never that hands on.”

“Right,” he nodded. “Is that why things ended?”

You let out a short laugh, again unsure if you were sharing too much. Would you wake up and regret the fact that you'd poured a glass of wine, and apparently your deepest secrets, all out on display?

“That, along with the fact that he was cheating on me for a good 18 months, I think.”

“Wow,” he nodded slowly, his lips pushed out in thought when he dropped your gaze. “What a dick.”

“Yeah, better I found out now than later on, I guess.”

“So that and losing your dad this year--”

“Yeah it’s been shitty,” you cut him off, another sip of your wine to avoid having to say more. He looked at your glass, now nearing empty, and reached for the bottle.

“Then you definitely deserve another one of these,” he laughed, fingers pulling the cork out again. “No wonder you got so many sympathy wine bottles.”

He poured himself another too, eventually he followed you into your dad’s old office when he asked what hid behind the mystery door on the first floor.

It was the only room you hadn’t redone yet, something about keeping his records on the book shelves and his papers on the desk felt like it kept him here. He’d chosen the green for the walls and you apologized when Harry’s eyebrows shot up at the sight.

“Great man,” you nodded, turning on a light switch, “terrible decorating taste.”

Harry nodded slowly, wine glass still in hand and a smirk fighting it’s way onto his face. “S’a bright color, yeah.”

He let out a laugh when he made eye contact with you, a disapproving look on your face when you walked over to the desk. “All these strewn about--probably some important information about you over here somewhere.”

He came over and lifted a paper. “Harry Styles is one of the most thoughtful, caring, and funny people I know.”

“Really?” You tugged at his arm to get a better view of the paper. Your dad’s handwriting was almost illegible, a date scribbled on top and another few words halfway down the small notebook page, nothing about Harry and nothing that seemed all that important.

“I hope that’s what he thought of me,” Harry smiled, his eyes flickered to where you still had a grip around his wrist. “Your nails are digging into me.”

“Sorry,” you pulled back immediately. “Sometimes I have to grab CeCe like that in the store or she runs off.”

He kept your gaze for a second, but it felt uncomfortable and made you nervous, so you cleared your throat. “Feel free to come in here and use this stuff,” you motioned over to the piano and the guitars he had in stands. “No one uses it, so--it’d be good for it to get played.”

“You don’t play anything?”

You shook your head. “No--he’d started to teach me guitar when I was young but then my mom died, just never picked it up again.”

You were thirteen when it happened, a car accident on the 405 and you didn’t go to school for weeks. Your dad had always been your main support--they divorced when you were ten--but after that you grew even closer, which is why losing him was so hard. He’d been a friend and a parent and the best grandfather who helped pick up the pieces when things with Luke started to crumble.

Harry was quiet, a simple nod when he went over to the piano and sat. You felt the need to shift the topic of conversation to something less depressing than the unfortunate events of your life.

“Are you writing a lot for the album still?”

“Yeah--we’ve got a few things written that might end up on it, but, mostly just experimenting with some new sounds.”

He pressed a chord down on the piano and looked up at you. “How do Maeve and CeCe seem to be handling it all?”

“Which part?”

“Both.”

You shrugged. “They’ve asked a lot about where their father is and why he hasn’t visited. And they understand that their grandpa is gone, but they’re sad, I think. CeCe’s had more nightmares than usual.”

He smiled a little. “And how are you doing with all of it?”

You let out a tiny laugh, mostly out of discomfort with the sudden seriousness in his voice and the way he already pulled more out of you than you’d planned. “I’m fine.”

He lifted his brows but played another progression of chords. “Wouldn’t blame you if you’re not.”

You took a sip of the cabernet and watched as he hummed along to whatever he played. When he looked up at you and waited for a reply, you smiled. “Some days I want to pull my hair out and others I need a good glass of wine. I kind of oscillate between those two lately.”

“Well, I’m always happy to split a bottle with you.”

You nodded, tried to fight the smile on your face when he laughed but then gave in. “Good.”

**

You woke up the next morning with a bit of a headache from the third and unexpected glass of wine. The girls were home by 9pm and unfortunately for you, the weekend was busy with play dates and birthday parties and grocery shopping.

Monday had you back in the office and recounting the first week to Tristan over an iced latte and a breakfast sandwich you’d grabbed after school drop off. Now it was cold and you were approaching the mid-day slump you were all too familiar with.

“I just can’t believe you’re alive still, to be honest. You know--seeing as you thought he’d be a serial killer or something.”

You looked over at him with narrowed eyes. “I didn’t think he was a serial killer.”

“Just a pedophile?”

“Alright,” you waved him off. “I can admit that it’s been fine--good, even. It’s only been a week, though.”

“Right,” he shrugged. “Halfway there. Maybe week two is when he goes crazy.”

You ignored the teasing from your friend and looked back to your computer. “Do you know if Kailee ordered the new bottles for the matcha face mask?”

“Yesterday afternoon,” he nodded. “And we also got the labels in for them as well. They ship off to the packaging plant on Tuesday.”

“Good, and numbers are up from last quarter which is really good. The meeting with the investors should go well.”

“Yeah, I mean, our entire profit has doubled since this time last year,” he smiled in your direction, a subtle reminder that the late night emails on top of the worst year ever had already proven to be worth it. “You should be very proud.”

“I am,” you admitted. “Of us. All of us.”

“Yes, what kind of boss would you be if you took all of the credit?” He teased.

“A bad one, but I’m also the type of boss that leaves at lunch time to go home and change since I have a meeting this afternoon that I forgot all about.”

He looked you up and down when you stood.

“It’s with people from Anthropologie about carrying some of our products in store--so I don’t think I can wear athleisure.”

He laughed and kept typing. “Fair enough. See you at 2pm, though, for the website meeting?”

“Yes,” you promised as you grabbed your keys. “Please don’t let the place burn down while I’m gone.”

“Might throw the match myself,” he waved you off, a laugh at his own joke when you headed for the elevator.

You were proud of the company you’d built and the office you’d been able to purchase two years back, but you were more proud of the energy that buzzed through the halls and the people who made work feel less like work and more like the adventure of a lifetime. You tried to be the cool boss who brought enough coffee for everyone, gave good time off but still expected hard work and drive to be the core of the business.

It took a while to settle into the role, though. At first you were sure you’d be seen as a spoiled rich kid who got a loan from her father to start a company--but it only took one year to repay him when you started getting placements in health food markets across LA. When Kourtney Kardashian posted something about your raspberry toner, the rest was history.

You’d always been passionate about making people feel good about themselves and focused your entire brand on building people up, not tearing them down. The world had enough of that as a mother of two daughters, you hoped it’d be something that would change that narrative, at least for them.

The drive home was quick and the sun was shining, which put a pep in your step as you hopped out of the car in the driveway and headed for the side door.

Harry’s car was still here--you’d left earlier than usual but didn’t expect him to be home. If anything, you figured he’d left shortly after you and planned on staying late in the studio. Jeff had mentioned something about laying down new tracks.

“Hello?” You called into the kitchen and looked around, he wasn’t in the living room or out by the pool. You found a laundry basket at the top of the second floor and figured that maybe someone had picked him up, but the sound of muffled singing pulled you down the hall and closer to his guest room.

The door was cracked only a bit, the sun streamed in from the windows and you could hear the running water of the shower. It was wrong, maybe, but you pushed the door open and stepped inside, smiled to yourself at the fact that he was singing a Carole King song that your dad used to play on repeat when you were a kid.

The room was clean--you hadn’t been in it since you’d pointed out the linen closet in the bathroom and showed him how to use the TV remote. His bed was made--maybe not the way you would have made it but the throw pillows were arranged in a way that showed he tried.

A buzzing on the dresser pulled your attention away from the bed. His phone, a message from someone named Bria Whitmore. Another message, then a third. You took a step closer--who on earth was texting him this much without a reply? A girlfriend? Someone he probably slept with or something of the sort.

“Hi,” his voice pulled your head around quickly and sent your heartbeat through the roof.

“Jesus, hi--sorry--I was just--”

He was in a towel, the fabric wrapped loosely around his waist and hair was slicked back from the water. You looked away from the tattoos that littered his skin and looked down at the laundry basket.

“I was just seeing if you had any laundry you needed me to do?”

It was clean, but he didn’t need to know that.

“M’good,” he smiled like he didn’t believe you. “Why are you home?”

“Had to change--forgot about a meeting,” you let out a laugh and tried to slow your pulse. “Figured the pilates mom look wasn’t the right vibe.”

He nodded, moved around you in the center of the room to pull out a t-shirt from a drawer. You saw him look down at the cell phone you’d been eyeing.

“Your phone went off,” you admitted, the laundry basket still pressed up against your hip.

“Yeah?” He smirked over his shoulder.

“I was just making sure it wasn’t an emergency--I wasn’t, like, snooping.”

A dimple appeared on his left cheek again, he tugged the fabric over his head and then shook out his hair.

“S’not an emergency,” he said. “Just a friend.”

You didn’t know if that was code. Were twenty-somethings calling their booty-calls friends now? You figured you’d ask Tristan later.

“Why are you home?” You tossed the question back at him.

“Schedule changed--went for a run after breakfast and now just, showering, y’know,” he looked down at the towel that separated you from an even more awkward moment.

“Right, sorry, I...am leaving,” you pointed to the door. “Changing, back to the office, home tonight.”

“Sounds good,” he smiled. “Figured I could make dinner, if you wanted. I make a mean chicken taco.”

You took a few steps backwards to the door. “You cook?”

“I do,” he smiled. “Hard to believe?”

“No,” you shook your head. “That would be great--if you want, but you don’t have to.”

“I’d love to,” he nodded. “I’ll see you tonight, Y/N.”

“With more clothes,” you smiled, immediately regretting the bad joke and the attention it drew to the stuffy air and the butterflies in your stomach.

“Definitely more clothes.”

You made a face at yourself once the door was shut, idiot. At least you hadn’t accidentally seen a picture of someone’s boobs. You were sure he got plenty of those.

You pushed the thought out of your head and thankfully Harry didn’t smirk at you too much when Jeff came to pick up the girls for ice cream the next afternoon. They hadn’t forgotten, but luckily Jeff had offered to take them out one night and it seemed like the perfect opportunity for Harry to tag along. That way he could stay true to his word and the girls would stop pestering him every time he popped down to the kitchen.

Zoey had been begging to bring the baby over to get out of the house, and now she was sitting in the other room with Benny on a play mat on the floor. Maeve, CeCe, Jeff and Harry stood in a line, eagerly awaiting the green light to pile into Jeff’s car.

“Okay, so Uncle Jeff can text me if you need anything, see you around 7pm?”

“Yes ma’am,” Jeff said, a salute in your direction that pulled a giggle from both of your daughters.

They’d been fighting more lately, CeCe tried to take the medal from Maeve’s room one night over the weekend and suddenly it was like world war three. You were shocked that they’d gotten it together enough to spend some time in each other's presence, even with Uncle Jeff chaperoning, but you were eager for the quiet and hopeful the screaming matches wouldn’t return once the ice cream and dinner date was finished.

“Love you, be nice to each other, okay?” You leaned down and used both hands to hold CeCe’s head in place when you planted a kiss on her forehead, then Maeve. A hug for Jeff, “only one ice cream cone this time.”

He laughed but obliged, you moved down the line to Harry, an awkward nod in his direction when you realized that whatever type of acquaintanceship had slowly started to bloom between the two of you was hardly grounds for a kiss on the forehead or even a hug.

He apparently sensed this too, a playful smile on his face when he lifted his brows. “No farewell for me?”

Jeff let out a quick laugh but Maeve and CeCe took off for the car, racing to see who could get out the front door fastest. “Alright, don’t kill each other,” you reminded again, waved them all off with an embarrassed smirk and then watched as Harry helped CeCe buckle into her booster seat.

“So,” Zoey appeared beside you, Benny in her arms as she looked out the window. “Seems like things are going well.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged casually. “He’s been nice.”

“He seems friendly,” she wiggled her brows when she met your gaze. “Flirty friendly.”

“Just friendly,” you laughed and headed for the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. It might have only been Tuesday, but the week promised to be a busy one. You wiped up a runaway drip of wine on the rim, fully aware the words about to leave your mouth would push Zoey into gear. “But I did see him shirtless yesterday.”

“That sounds amazing,” she shifted Benny in her arms, eagerness in her voice. “How was it?”

“I mean--he also caught me snooping in his room, sort of.”

“Sort of?”

You tried to downplay it. “I came home from work in the middle of the day to change and I heard him in the shower--which is weird cause I didn’t think he’d be home.”

“So you went in there?”

“Not the bathroom--I just peeked into his room and noticed it was really clean. Which is weird, right? He’s a kid!”

“He’s not a kid,” she rolled her eyes at you. “Your kids are kids. He’s twenty-four. I looked it up.”

Your eyes were wide when you turned to head for the couch. “You looked it up?”

“I was curious! He’s a celebrity living in your house and he’s very attractive and you have been harping on his age.”

“Because it felt weird at first.”

“And it doesn’t now?” Her tone was hopeful when she laid Benny back on his play mat and kneeled beside him.

You took a gulp from your wine glass. “Less weird, but only because he’s mature. He’s helpful around the house--he cooked dinner the other night--and he’s good with the girls.”

The corner of her mouth pulled towards the ceiling, arched eyebrows when she clarified. “He’s good with the girls?”

“He’s just nice to them--I was worried that they’d annoy him. I mean, I doubt that he was excited to hear that two of his roommates were six and ten.”

“Okay--but why did you see him shirtless?”

Right--she’d gotten you off track. “Because...I went in his room and then saw his phone buzzing and then he came out and caught me looking at his phone.”

“You were looking through his phone?!”

“No! Not the actual texts, just to see who was blowing it up. I only looked at the lock screen.”

“Was he annoyed?”

“No,” you shrugged, shame laced through your voice. “He was casual. But then he put his shirt on and I left him alone and went back to work.”

“So there’s sexual tension,” she shimmied her shoulders and pulled a laugh from you, she nuzzled down into Benny’s face but then gave him a pacifier.

“No.”

This brought her gaze back to you, more serious now. “Y/N, you are not a creep if you admit that you find him attractive.”

“I can admit that he’s handsome,” you chose a new word that felt more detached. “But who cares? He’s literally just a house guest. A friend of a friend.”

“Right, but he was just flirting with you like there’s no tomorrow.”

“No he wasn’t,” you denied her accusation. When she stared at you expectantly, you took a loud sip and let the obnoxious noise ring through the now empty house as if it would preclude you from saying any more.

“You truly, seriously, one-hundred percent haven’t noticed any type of flirting?”

You averted your eyes for a second, ready to dismiss her question and tell her she was crazy. There was nothing going on between the two of you.

But then you thought on it, thought about the way he asked about Maeve and CeCe and remembered the way your stomach seemed to twist itself in knots when he smirked at you and when the dimples appeared on his cheeks.

“The look on your face is enough of an answer,” Zoey teased, bouncing side to side when Benny made a noise. “Isn’t that right, Benny Boo? Someone has a crush.”

“There’s no crush here--he’s just,” a shrug of your shoulders when you didn’t know what words to use. You didn’t want to add fuel to her fire and you certainly didn’t want to give her any more of a reason to keep bringing this topic up.

“Dreamy? Beautiful? The perfect rebound post-divorce?”

A flutter of your eyelids in annoyance when you stood to head for the kitchen. “No,” you said, making a face in her direction. “He’s just cute.”

“So cute!” She followed behind and egged you on. “A crush is perfectly harmless, a little bedtime rendezvous is totally not a big deal.”

“I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves, here, okay?”

“Oh come on,” she laughed. “You mean to tell me you haven’t already thought about if he’s good in bed?”

She came to sit next to you at the island, folding her legs beneath her. When you sipped at your wine and tried to hide a smirk, her face lit up. “I knew it, I knew it! I don’t blame you, at all, by the way. He’s gorgeous.”

“I’m just horny, number one,” you admitted, leaning forward to rest your elbow on the granite counter. “And seeing a man actually be good with kids is a breath of fresh air.”

“Yeah, Luke didn’t set the bar high with that one.”

“Absolutely not.”

A pause of silence when evening air blew through the open doors to the patio. There was music audible through the trees, wafting in from the backyard of your neighbors.

“I think you should fuck him.”

“What?!” You turned towards her quickly, your voice quieter when she smirked and looked over at you. “Are you out of your mind?”

“You have a ridiculously attractive man living in your house and he hangs out with your kids and now he’s starting to cook? It’s like a lifetime movie waiting to happen.”

“That doesn’t mean I should have sex with him!”

“Do you want to have sex with him?”

You were quiet for a second, kept her gaze but then rolled your eyes and shook your head. “I’ve had a bad year,” you made an excuse for the pulsing in your veins whenever you were alone with him. Nothing more, nothing less.

“When does he leave again?”

“I don’t know--at the end of the week, I guess. It’s not happening, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Alright,” she seemed to relent, “You do you. I just think you deserve a little feel good time.”

“That sounds gross,” you wrinkled your nose, pulling a laugh out of her.

She was able to change the topic, told you all about the way Benny was getting better at lifting his own head and he was screaming a lot less when she put him down for some tummy time. Your phone dinged, though, signalling a new text just when you were about to pull out leftovers and heat them up.

She watched when you opened it, got excited when you smirked at the screen.

“Who is it?”

You almost didn’t want to show her, but you knew she’d pry it out of your hands with force if you didn’t share. You flipped it around, watched as a smile spread across her face.

A picture of Harry and CeCe, both with sunglasses on as they ate their ice cream. Maeve and Jeff were in the background, the line at the ice cream shop down the street wasn’t too long. You were kind of surprised he was willing to go with them, wouldn't it create a buzz in the headlines?

Zoey gave you a knowing look.

“It’s just sweet.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know,” you smiled a little at first, but the happiness faded from your face when you pulled yourself back to reality. “I feel stupid thinking that he’s flirting with me. He could be with a supermodel if he wanted to. One with perky boobs and who’s, like, twenty. Not someone who’s old enough to be his mom.”

“You are seven years older than him,” she made a disgusted face. “You could have been, like, his babysitter, not his mom.”

“Oh, that makes me feel so much better.”

“You’re being stupid about this!”

You paused with tupperware in your hands, turned around slowly. “I am not being dumb about not having casual sex with the popstar boyband kid living under my roof. I think not having sex with him is objectively the responsible thing to do here.”

“Why do you always have to be so responsible, though? You have been doing that forever, okay? You’re the business owner mom who’s always been incredibly family-oriented.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not in the slightest! But you’re more than just a mom.”

You bit at your cheek and dropped her gaze, put the tupperware down from exhaustion. “I just want my children to have a normal life. I only had one parent and I thought they were going to have two and now that ship has sailed.”

She nodded sympathetically. “But that doesn’t mean you did anything wrong! You never relaxing and having a good time will only teach them bad work-life balance.”

You rolled your eyes at her comment, tried to fight the smile when she waited for you to fold. “I love you,” she said. “I want you to get laid or have a drink or let your hair down once in a while.”

You held up the wine in her face. “Already halfway there.”

She reached for the bottle of wine and shoved it towards you with skeptical eyes. “Try harder.”

You let out a laugh and took another sip once it was refilled, pushed plates into the microwave and sat there with her until Jeff’s car pulled back into the driveway and the girls came tumbling back into the house.

“Mom, Harry said he could teach me how to play guitar,” Maeve grinned up at you, an affectionate hug caught you by surprise, but so did her words.

“He did, did he?” You eyed Harry as he walked in with Jeff by his side, sunglasses still on his face despite the sun lingering just above the horizon.

“We’ll start a band,” Harry nodded in her direction, kept his eyes shielded as CeCe ran into the backyard with a noise of excitement.

“And Uncle Jeff said he’ll sing.”

“You’ll definitely get far, then,” you teased, pulling an offended look from your childhood friend. “He’s obviously the best singer in the house.”

Harry nodded in playful agreement. “Could put me out of a job any day.”

“Maeve!” CeCe called suddenly, pulling everyone’s attention to the backyard. “Come play squishball!”

Harry looked down at Maeve and she looked up at him, you were unaware of whatever unspoken communication was transpiring between them. “Should we?” He asked.

“Definitely,” she giggled, hands on her hips.

Zoey was also confused, but she watched as Maeve and Harry headed for the patio. Harry finally took his sunglasses off, handed them to your older daughter before he spoke. “CeCe, we need to have a meeting.”

“A meeting?” She asked, she groaned in disappointment but walked back towards the house, bat dragging on the grass behind her. Jeff laughed and folded his arms over his chest, unaware of whatever deal had already been struck between them.

“You two are both really great at squishball,” Harry admitted, his voice suddenly more serious than before. “But I think we need to up the stakes.”

“Up the stakes?” You could tell by the look on CeCe’s face that she had no clue what that meant.

“Winner of this game gets the medal I won from the spelling bee,” Maeve explained.

You were about to protest, head outside and discourage any type of betting or gambling or whatever the backyard made up game was leading towards, but Harry went on to explain the rules. “CeCe gets a head start running bases, just because of her tiny legs.”

Maeve nodded, “and she gets a free home run to start off.”

CeCe smiled wide and put her hands on her hips, pulling a laugh from Harry as she copied her older sister. “I like the sound of that,” she said. A sure-fire way to make her win, you realized. But what was in that for Maeve? How had your previously grumpy pre-teen become a team player in a matter of hours?

It wasn’t long before Zoey gathered up her things and put Benny in the backseat, giggling and excited yells floated in from the backyard when you hugged her goodbye. Jeff stayed past sunset and offered an excited high five when CeCe won, completely unaware at how easy they’d made it for her.

But he soon left, too, you climbed the stairs behind your two little athletes, got them washed up and in bed before it was 9pm--not bad for a weeknight. You were sure Harry would have retreated to his room, too, but he was sat by the fire pit on the patio, a near empty glass of wine in his hand when you came back out.

“Care to explain?” you leaned against the doorframe and smiled. He adjusted in his seat but shrugged his shoulders when you admitted: “I never thought I would hear the end of it with that stupid medal.”

There was a confident look on his face when he met your eyes in the glow of the fire pit. “Figured I can teach her a few chords on guitar and that would take her mind off of taunting CeCe.”

It was smart, you nodded slowly and watched him. Give Maeve something that would get her really excited, but only if she’d give up something else. Bargaining--a classic parenting trick. You eyed Harry with a level of skepticism.

“How are you so good with them?”

He smiled at that, apparently flattered by the compliment. “They’re good kids,” he said simply.

“I’m aware,” you laughed, “but you don’t have to spend so much time with them.”

“I like it,” he shrugged. “It’s kind of nice to be around a family, you know?”

The words pulled emotion to your chest. Did you really look like a family to him? No husband, no grandfather, two irreplaceable roles and now you were trying to fill all of them just to keep your kids afloat.

“And besides,” he stood from his chair and grabbed the now empty glass before he came closer to you. “Something about being here just feels right.”

You looked up at him, felt the same rush of heat to your cheeks but hoped you were safe in the cover of night. He smirked, like he knew what he was doing to you but was too much of a gentleman to call you out. Hesitation when you felt some type of magnetic force between you, the distance simultaneously felt like inches and miles.

You smiled softly, embarrassed by the way your pulse picked up and the thoughts that flew through your head. What would happen if I, does he ever think about, am I crazy if I want to?

He brushed past you and walked to the sink, placing the wine glass down quietly before he turned to face you once more. “Is it as bad as you thought?”

Confusion, you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants. “Sorry?”

“Having me here,” he motioned around, the dimple on his left cheek was visible even in the dim light. You rolled your eyes, dropped his gaze for a second when he let out a quiet laugh. “I hope that it’s only as miserable as you thought--m’just aiming for not worse than expected at this point.”

You turned to face him and put your hands on the granite, thankful for the fact that the island was now between you, the ticking of a clock on the wall kept time when you tried to piece your words together carefully.

Was he flirting with you? A similar to question to that he'd asked only a few nights earlier, this time with more of a smirk on his face and a lilt in his voice that made sent a shiver down your spine.

“It’s better,” you admitted with a nod and a teasing smile. “But don’t tell Jeff that.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, held your gaze and then nodded. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

There was silence for a second, you almost offered to pour him another glass of wine but then he said: “Only a few more days, though.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, the fantasy shattered on the floor between you. “How’s the house coming?”

He winced, a quiet laugh when he shook his head. “Everything’s been pushed out a few weeks, actually. But--it’s fine, I’m probably just going to stay with a friend or something, you know, don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

You brought your lips into a thin line, unsure if what you were about to offer was appropriate or weird or just plain awkward.

“Oh...well, I mean, if you want to stay here longer, you can.”

His mouth pulled up on the side, he brought his gaze back to you and shifted his weight on his feet. “Yeah? You don’t mind?”

You shrugged, again hoping to play it cool or not come off too eager. “If that would be helpful,” you trailed off.

“Yeah, very helpful.”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” he nodded, pulling another smirk from you.

A few more weeks, tops.

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

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[caiuscassiuss]

tease ⎮ k.th (snippet)

TEASE IS OUT NOW!!! FIND IT HERE

Description: You knew you were hot. You saw how the guys looked at you, how their eyes were drawn to a tight t-shirt or short skirt. And maybe this would fail epically—crash and burn like a failed experiment—but you wanted to get under Kim Taehyung’s skin the only way you knew how.

Genre: Brother’s best friend (jungkook is your twin brother lol) au/ enemies-to-lovers WC: (estimated) ~10k Warnings: graphic smut (Dom! Taehyung + Brat! Reader, dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation kink/ slight slut shaming, masturbation, blow jobs, cunnilingus, edging, light dub-con, spanking), reader is promiscuous and a tease™ 

The incident at the club was definitely an offensive blow to Taehyung in your non-existent game, as he watched you differently in the times you ran into him. He looked a lot more contemplative and a hell of a lot angrier that you tamped down a victorious smile. You were gonna blue ball him so hard he would rue the day he snitched on you to your parents.

You had already planned on skinny-dipping in the pool when Taehyung was sleeping over one night, but your plans were ruined as your parents announced a family trip to the lake cabin rental.

You had pasted on a smile at the news, looking happy to escape from the city, but inwardly you pouted. This trip would put you out of commission, so to speak. You wouldn’t see Taehyung for the next few weeks and you were sort of worried the thing you had going on would fade as he, inevitably, would fuck some random girl to get over the tension.

However, imagine your joy as your amazing, heaven-sent brother asked if he could drag Taehyung along and all the parties agreed.

The four hour car ride was monotonous, with you parents at the front, your brother and his friend in the middle, and you unfortunately cramped at the back. You glanced at Taehyung, who was fast asleep with his spidery lashes brushing his cheeks. You patted your backpack absentmindedly, where your secret weapon was stored. You were pulling out the big guns this time. No fucking around. He was going to be begging to fuck you.

Your family arrived at the rustic cabin you were renting and you jumped out of the car to stretch your poor, poor back. Your parents, of course, took the master bedroom so that left the two guest bedrooms between the three of you. Jungkook and Taehyung would be sharing a room while you would have your own and honestly, you thought the heavens were smiling down on you, because the rooms were connected with a Jack-and-Jill bathroom. 

You just had to wait for the right moment. Everyone was exhausted and took a nap, which resulted in you pacing around your room, deep in thought.

Your parents had decided to go out for dinner at the township a little while away, while Jungkook fibbed a lie about going to the woods for a hike and instead snuck away to the beach for girls. Apparently, from what you could hear from inside your bedroom, Taehyung was still asleep and refused to go hiking with Jungkook. They also thought you were asleep too, your dad taking a moment of pity on you by acknowledging how hard you’ve been working at school and sports.

Inwardly, you fistpumped. They were finally leaving you and Taehyung alone, so you could finally enact your plan.

You hid your vibrator underneath your sheets and waited for Taehyung to wake up. You didn’t have to wait long as you heard the creaking of floorboards in the other room.

Tossing away your shirt, you were left in just your bra and panties. Settling down on your bed, you turned the vibrator on low and rubbed it against your panties. A slight, quiet groan escaped your mouth and you felt arousal start to form on your nether lips. Dragging the vibrator up and down against your covered slit, your ears perked up at the sound of shower starting in the conjoined bathroom.

You repeated the motion a few times, before you pressed the tip of the vibrator hard against your covered pussy. It pressed against your clit and you felt your vision swim, a slight yelp escaping your mouth. For a while, the shuffling around the bathroom stopped and you froze, half excited and half anxious.

You heard metallic scrape of shower rings and relaxed. You circled the vibrator around your slit a bit more, stimulating the motion of penetration lightly and arousal definitely stained your panties. 

Moving your panties to the side, you let the tip of the vibe rest against your clit, rotating it to cover it in slick and burrowing it deeper into your pussy. A loud whine left your lips, one he definitely heard, and you panted heavily. The muggy air pressed down on you and the blood rushed around underneath your skin.

Shoving down your bra, leaving your breasts obscenely pushed out against the cups, you dragged your fingernails across the sensitive skin of your breasts. Groaning, you turned your face to burrow your head into your pillow.

Slowly inserting the vibrating dildo into your pussy, a shout left your lips as your pussy contracted against the object suddenly. The lack of action over the past few weeks definitely made you more sensitive.

Chest heaving, you left the vibe in to adjust to it. Taking it and feeling arousal coating your fingertips, you slowly pushed it in and out of your pussy. Your eyes shut in pleasure and strangled yell emanated from your throat, your legs relaxing until you could feel both legs spread for the world to see. The cotton sheets suddenly felt too hot against your skin and you pushed them hurriedly away.

You pressed the vibe in and out of your now sopping wet pussy and your fingers pinched at your breasts, circling around your perked nipples. The shower in the background sounded muffled to your ears as you sunk into a veil of pleasure.

Thrusting the vibe deep into your pussy, you hit your g-spot and you choked, an embarrassingly loud groan filling the air. You undulated the vibrator against your g-spot and clit repeatedly, black spots and bright lights flashing against the back of your eyelids. Your moans were now non-stop and you knew Taehyung could hear you even if he was downstairs.

Memories of his dark eyes, veiny neck and arms, and sweaty shoulders made you tense up. The vibrator hit your g-spot and clit at once and you tweaked your nipples, a scream leaving your lips as felt light exploding in your vision and your pussy clenching the vibrator. Your knees knocked painfully together as you orgasmed, eyes shut and mouth wide open to moan loudly into the air.

The waves of pleasure washed over you and gradually left, leaving you panting into the air. The air conditioner brushed against your sensitive pussy and aftershocks rocked your body, clamping your lips tight to stop groans from escaping. Pulling the vibrator out, you could feel slick start to coat your pussy and thighs.

Closing your eyes, the blanket of placidity settled over you. Wow, you had really needed this, hadn’t you? All your scheming and schoolwork had—

A hard knock startled you out of your thoughts and you registered the shower had stopped. The knock rattled the doorframe and made you wonder how mad Taehyung was on the other side.

“Taehyung? Do you need anything?” you asked, voice slightly high-pitched and cracked.

“Open up, Y/N,” he grumbled.

You threw on a large t-shirt to cover your chest and leaking pussy, nearly stumbling as you walked to the door.

“Y-yeah?” you asked, cracking the door open a bit. Taehyung pushed the door open roughly, and you almost tripped over air.

He stood there, shirtless and wet, glaring at you from underneath his wet bangs. You gulped, nipples instantly perking up again at the aura restrained anger he exuded. Your eyes followed a drop of water that dripped from his hair and landed with a plop on his chest, working its way down his toned pectorals and defined abs and then into his Apollo’s belt—

“—it down?”

You shook yourself out of your thoughts, wide eyes snapping to meet his.

“H-Huh?” you blurted out, uncharacteristically flustered.

“I said,” he huffed, nostrils flared, “Can you keep it the fuck down?”

You didn’t even have to pretend to flush and act nervous. “O-oh, sorry—”

He gave you an unreadable look, fire burning in his eyes, then snorted and slammed the door. For a while there was silence. A slight pout painted your lips and you shifted your weight, now feeling your arousal drip down your thigh. You had thought this would be the time he would crack but he didn’t. A bit worried at the radio silence, you suddenly heard a soft, strangled groan that emerged from the other bedroom.

You smirked. It was only a matter of time before he cracked.

Hi everyone! This is my first foray into BTS fanfiction and break from indefinite hiatus, so I really hope all of you liked this sneakpeek. Honestly it’s not anything deep but I guarantee you it will edge all of you so hard :) Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

Estimated release date: Jan 6th, 8 PM ET

[whumpzone]

Tomas and Rowe - Part 16

in which everyone has a bad time. except kasia. he's having fun

Masterpost

taglist: @sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lavmars @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly @itaina-anta @whump-it @haro-whumps @simplygrimly @alex-ember @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @mnmlover2002 @jordanstrophe @princessofonward @xmonster-under-the-bed @as-a-matter-of-whump @5boys1house @crystalrainwing @starnight-whump @chifechi @unicornscotty @penny-for-your-whump @getyourwhumphere @likeit-or-whumpit @jasm0307 @lightdrinker @hurting-fictional-people @captainseconds @glamrockgregory @justbreakonme @downrivergirl914 @cdragontogacotar @whumps-up @vaguelyhumanvoid @kim-poce @kween-pinescales

CW: pet whump, dehumanisation, force feeding, stress positions, references to mouth whump and burns

-

Rowe took to repeating the affirmations every day, whispering them past the newly empty gaps in his gums. When he did them, he could forget for a little while that he was going to die in his cell. At least he could die as something. He wouldn’t let Kasia turn him into an empty husk.

I have worth.

I don’t deserve pain.

I’m a person.

He was careful, of course, to lock them away when Kasia visited. He tried not to associate them with pain; he said them every day when he woke up, not when he was freshly hurting. He didn’t want to ever, ever, say them in front of Kasia.

He knew if he did it would just get him another beating, but they were his. They were precious. They were a relic of Master that Kasia couldn’t corrupt.

He just had to keep his stupid mouth shut when it mattered.

For the first time since his arrival here, Rowe spent a whole day alone. The hours ticked by as he started to see shapes in the floor, and wondered if Kasia would ever return. Was this it? Had he got bored already? Would Rowe be left to die and rot after less than a week, his capture so recent he could still feel Master’s hands in his?

In reality it only meant that when Kasia did come back the next day, Rowe despised himself for the brief flash of relief. The man he was at the mercy of had returned to torture him another day.

Kasia had brought more chains, and restraints, always in his duffle bag, and Rowe had quickly learnt to shrink away at the mere sight of it. Rowe stayed curled up on the floor as he entered, eyeing him like a kicked dog.

“Did you miss me, pup?”

“Please,” he replied hoarsely. “Please give me f-food. Please.”

Rowe would never have dared beg with his first Master. But he had always known that he would be fed, eventually, once he had learnt his lesson. And of course, he’d never needed to beg Master Tomas. But here, there weren’t any rules. Nothing was guaranteed. So fuck it, he might as well try to prolong his life.

“Today’s your lucky day. I actually brought something. You’ll have to earn it, though. No getting on my fucking nerves, yeah?”

You’re the one who chooses to come here, Rowe thought despairingly.

“Okay, okay, just please-“

“Didn’t you just hear me?” Kasia kicked him in the stomach and Rowe moaned. He nodded, wincing as the burns on his neck pressed together.

“Arms up, come on.”

. . .

Tomas had made it from the shower to the downstairs sofa, and he was content with that. Not proud, no, proud would imply he was happy with himself in some way, but at least he wasn’t completely catatonic today. Luca had texted saying to answer the door if it rang, and a part of Tomas still wanted to impress him, despite it all. So he had showered and brushed the last of the blood from his hair. God, how many days had it been?

A small movement on the floor caught his eye. A spider, out of reach, too far to feasibly get him. He felt acutely aware of his own apathy then, as instead of shrieking or running away, he just stared.

The chance of the spider hurting him was practically zero. And yet he was still afraid. Afraid of it crawling over his skin, afraid that it might come near him in the night when he was asleep and vulnerable, and although he knew deep down that it wouldn’t, there was always the possibility of it deciding to run up his leg at any given moment. Even being near it made him afraid.

He thought of Rowe. He felt like he understood something. He sighed.

Luca arrived not half an hour later, banging on the door and shouting for Tomas as if nothing was wrong.

“Hey! It’s me- don’t leave me outside on this cold night. I’m only an orphan boy.”

Tomas pulled the door open. He couldn’t smile, but seeing Luca felt like the weight in his stomach was lifted slightly.

“It’s not cold. And you’re not an orphan.”

“I am happy to see you, though,” Luca said calmly. He was holding a basket, its contents hidden under a teatowel. “I brought you a pull-yourself-together hamper. Some ready meals, dry shampoo, fruit, and stuff. And the teatowel. ‘Cause why not.”

Already Tomas could feel Luca’s warmth seeping into him. He put a hand over his mouth and nodded. “Than- thanks, thank you, you know you don’t owe me anything-“

“I know, handsome lad. But the thought of Rowe being kidnapped is- god, it’s awful. Don’t worry, I’m here of my own free will. Sometimes you just need someone else in the house.”

Tomas let him inside, feeling guilty about the mess, then feeling guilty because he was the one who allowed it to accumulate.

“Let’s open a window,” Luca suggested, and Tomas sloped over. “Want me to get that spider?”

He shook his head, trying uselessly to hide his face. “It’s fine, it’s fine, you can let it stay, I’m sorry I don’t know why I’m-“

His own voice cracking cut him off but he pressed on.

“I’m fine, I really am.”

“You’re not. It’s okay.”

“Just- how- how the fuck did I let this happen. How did I not, I mean, I trusted him this whole- whole time and now it’s all gone wrong and-“

He sat heavily on the floor, leaning his face into the side of the sofa, not blinking, not seeing. He breathed out and time seemed to slow.

Luca’s hand rested on his shoulder, a gentle pressure to his fingers.

“What’s done is done. You can’t help Rowe by falling apart, and you definitely can’t help yourself like that either. It’s, ah, it’s hard. It’s really hard. But you can collapse and cry and disintegrate when Rowe is back, I promise. Do you know where Kasia lives?”

Tomas nodded. “I haven’t even thought about that. I can’t believe myself.”

“Hey, no falling apart okay?” Luca’s tone was firm, and it made Tomas pull his head up, to look at him. His hair, braided in two chunky plaits, hung asymmetrically, one past his collarbone and one down his back. His eyeliner was winged like the letter V, drawn out in a point that came sharply back over his eyelid. Pretty. “That’s good to know, though. You could catch him on his way in or out, try to strike up a deal, I don’t know. I’ve not exactly had any experience with kidnappings either.”

“Yeah, it’s fucking stupid isn’t it. This whole situation is stupid. Fuck.”

Luca just looked at him, a sad smile ghosting over his face.

“I just can’t stop thinking about all the things that might be happening,” Tomas confessed. “He’s unhinged, he really is. He’s sick. And he’s got Rowe and the police don’t care, no one cares.”

“I care. You care.”

Tomas didn’t reply and the words hung over them. Two people caring wasn’t much. But, he supposed, it was better than nothing.

. . .

Rowe’s arms would dislocate, they would they absolutely would, Kasia was setting him up to dislocate both his god damn shoulders or arms or whatever. Rowe could hardly tell where the pain was located, it felt like it was everywhere, burning through his like a fire burns a taut string.

The food- dog food, but still edible, still something- sat before him, emptied on the floor, and from where Rowe knelt he should’ve been able to lean and eat easily. But Kasia had his arms bound and tied to the bars of the cage door, pulling them back and turning any movement into agony. Not only was he bent out of shape, but the burns along his shoulders were irritated awfully. He was sure his skin would burst open any second.

It had been twenty minutes at most, and already he was exhausted. Sweat rolled down him, dripping off his nose. He could hardly breathe.

Kasia’s heavy boot pressed down on the crown of his head, and his moan quickly became a scream of pain.

“No, no please!”

“I thought you were hungry. I’m helping.”

The pressure doubled, forcing Rowe’s face closer to the dog food, until he was close enough to open his mouth and take a bite. Disgust flooded him, and it only increased when he chewed. He swallowed past the collar, his throat pressing uncomfortably against it, and oh god, it felt so good, it was food in his belly, he was thankful for it despite everything. Kasia seemed satisfied and released his boot, sending Rowe’s head springing back to relieve the pressure on his shoulders. The skin near his burns had ripped and were bleeding, but nothing was dislocated.

“You’re definitely still hungry. How about another bite?”

Before Rowe could speak, Kasia had grabbed a fistful of hair, shoving him down, the sudden pull on his arms a thousand times worse than before, worse than anything, the pain was clouding his mind and he couldn’t think of anything but the barest, most built-in responses.

He screamed.

Spit flew from his mouth. Kasia kept pressing, his fingers curling tighter together, and the burning on Rowe’s scalp joined the rest of his body. His fingers were surely purple with how hard Kasia had tied them. Rowe had lost all feeling beyond his wrists.

“Please!”

Kasia ignored him.

“Please, st-stop, please M-M-Master Tomas help me-“

“He’s not fucking coming you stupid dog,” Kasia growled and pulled Rowe’s face all the way down, cracking his chin against the concrete, a deep shooting pain through his face and remaining teeth. He moaned. More skin tore along his shoulders. “No one’s coming to save you.”

A kick sent him lurching to the side, twisting his body until he was sprawled with his back to the floor, staring up at his bound hands, which were a mixture of blue and purple and were not moving at all.

He turned his head to see Kasia grabbing a fistful of the dog food from the floor and stepping over him.

“Mouth open.” Rowe complied and Kasia smiled mockingly. “Good boy.”

The dog food was shoved in, packing against the walls of his mouth, Kasia’s fingers prodding his gums, and it took everything not to vomit. His stomach heaved but nothing came. All he could do was be a good boy, and eat.

“Tomas isn’t your Master. He’s not coming.”

Present tense, thought Rowe as his eyes watered from the taste. He’s not dead.

. . .

Tomas couldn’t stop his legs from shaking as he stood on Kasia’s street, his hands tucked under his armpits for warmth. Yeah, the shaking was definitely just from the cold. Sure.

By the time Kasia appeared, it was night. He stalked down the street, stumbling slightly, and Tomas realised he was drunk. If he hadn’t had a reason to be there, he would have walked away right now, and fast.

When Kasia got close enough, Tomas stepped out of the shadows, forcing Kasia to stop and fix him with a glare.

“Give him back.”

“Or what?” he asked flatly, as if this meeting was no surprise. “Hah, you look like shit Tomas.”

“Give him fucking back, what do you want for him, money? You’re torturing a human being you sick fuck.”

“I’m having some fun with a Pet,” Kasia smiled. “And if you start whining like this I will just kill him.”

Tomas stiffened. “You wouldn’t.”

“You so sure about that?”

“Let him go.”

“No,” Kasia pushed him once and Tomas stumbled back, hitting a wall. He blinked and Kasia’s face was pressed up in front of his. He stank of booze and cigarettes. “Fuck off or I’ll kill him. I’ll hurt him worse to make up for this, too.”

“No, fuck no just leave him fucking alone-“

Kasia swung once, but mercifully something made him miss. Carelessness, the alcohol, perhaps just the assumption that Tomas was too pathetic to move out of the way. His fist cracked against the wall and as he shouted in pain Tomas considered kicking him between the legs, spitting on him, whatever. But Rowe’s life was at stake so, like the coward he was, he ran into the night, Kasia shouting taunts behind him.

Luca looked up when he pushed through the door, panting. He’d run the entire way. Luca stayed silent; the look on Tomas’s face was telling enough.

“I’m a fucking failure,” he whispered, and started to cry.

[madswritingvoid]

Birthday Gift

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x f!reader

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: SMUT BYE MINORS, 18+, unprotected sex (no glove no love irl everyone, established relationship, p in v sex, oral sex (f), squirting, fingering, praise kink, use of “daddy”, use of “good girl”, overstimulation, kind of dom/sub things but yeah, creampie, not beta read we’re all in this together.

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BELOVED @dinsprettygirl !!!!!!! I hope you like this and have a wonderful birthday!! Thank you for your endless support and I hope ya enjoy Marcus for your birthday request!

Tagging: @starlightmornings (I hope it’s still okay I tagged you in this!)

You knew something was up as soon as you opened your eyes.

Peeking out from under the covers you notice that it’s 11am and furrow your brow. Not that you don’t appreciate a nice sleep-in, you know for a fact you set an alarm for 9am - yes it was your birthday and okay sure it was a Saturday, you wanted to pretend like it was just another day. Normally you’d be sitting down with Marcus and Missy for brunch and figuring out what you all wanted to do this weekend.

You have never been a big birthday person. Hating having everyone come out of the woodwork to wish you “another wonderful year xxxx” even if you haven’t spoken since their last birthday message, it just wasn’t something you wanted or cared if people made a big deal about it. Marcus knew that, and every year on your birthday he has done something for you anyways, wanting to shower you with love and gifts even though you just want him and Missy, your little family. Listening, you don’t hear Missy’s voice but close your eyes and inhale deeply as the smell of breakfast foods hits your nose. 

You groan softly, knowing Marcus is the culprit in the alarm situation and was definitely going to make today a big deal, you finally emerge from your blanket cocoon. The sooner you got it over with, the sooner you could get your weekend started. The sunlight streaming through your bedroom curtain catches on the silky red ribbon wrapped around a box sitting at the edge of the bed. Brow arched you make your way over to the box and read the little card attached.

“I would say I’m sorry for all I have planned for your today but I’m not. Your day of being spoiled begins now, my love. See you downstairs - Marcus x”

Not being able to fight the grin spreading across your face you tear into the wrapping to reveal a silky nightgown in your favourite colour with a matching silk robe. The fabric feeling heavenly in your hands you run into your bathroom to have a quick shower, putting on your gift to show Marcus. The sound of someone butchering Prince’s “kiss” causing you to giggle as you quietly enter the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe and enjoy the view: Marcus with adorable bedhead and cupcake boxer shorts (new and definitely bought for your birthday) dancing around while plating your breakfast.

“I just want your extra time and your,” he shouts, shaking his hips to the kissing sounds and you wrap your arms around his waist to place a big kiss to his cheek in time, “kiss”, you whisper against his cheek. He lets out a small yelp before turning around in your grasp, brown eyes going from alert to soft as he places a loving kiss to your lips. “Happy Birthday my sneaky love,” he grins, “you look absolutely beautiful, I’m glad you liked your gift.” You grin back and brush your nose against his and steal another quick peck to his lips, “thank you baby, but you know I don’t need anything special,” you scold him gently and free yourself from his grip to start helping him place your dishes on the dining room table. 

He pulls your chair out for you and you giggle as he bows and offers a small, “my lady” before sitting in the chair next to yours. You look at him with a brow raised, noticing how Missy still isn’t here and Marcus not acting like that isn’t completely out of the ordinary. Maybe he is letting Missy sleep in, you think to yourself, shrugging off that nagging feeling to enjoy your meal with Marcus. If he isn’t worried, then you shouldn’t be either. Once you finish, you insist on helping Marcus clear the dishes, reasoning the sooner you’re finish the sooner you can do something more fun so he relents. Once the last plate has been placed on the drying rack, Marcus spins you around and pins you between his body and the kitchen counter. Caging you in on an arm on either side of you, Marcus gives you a breath-stealing kiss, hungry and hot, that ends with your hands tugging on his hair and his arms wrapped around you, crushing you to his warm body. Nipping at your bottom lip Marcus breaks the silence, “we’re all done cleaning up, baby, what do you want now?”

“Marcus you know all I want is you,” you whisper against his lips. “But where is Missy? She didn’t say anything to me yesterday about not being home,” you pouted. You and Missy were thick as thieves and you were hoping for a relaxing spa day where you could have Marcus wait on you hand-and-foot, the one birthday girl perk you’d take advantage of. “Well baby,” he murmurs against your cheek, kissing his way down to your neck. Titling your head back to give him more access, you sigh as he sucks at your pulse point, “what I want to do for your birthday is more of an... adult gift,” he growls the last part and bites where your neck as shoulder meet, sending a shiver down your spine and a soft whimper to fall from your lips.

You feel his hands glide down your body, appreciating the silky fabric as he makes his way to your already wet core, cock twitching at the fact you didn’t put on any underwear. Slipping one hand between your thighs Marcus groans, finding you already soaked. “Oh yeah, that’s my good girl, already so ready to take what I give you,” he groans, one finger circling your entrance to gather more of the wetness before bringing it to his mouth and sucking it clean. “Marcus, please,” you moan and take his other hand to grab at your breast. His thumb rubs your nipple, feeling it pebble through the fabric of your nightgown while bringing his other had back down to start circling your clit. “Now baby,” he tuts, “it might be your birthday but I won’t let you forget the rules,” giving your pussy a light slap, making you jump.

Trying to rock your hips to get him to start rubbing your clit again, you give Marcus your biggest doe eyes, “sorry Daddy, I won’t do it again.” Pleased with your answer, you’re rewarded with his fingers circling your clit again his other hand moving to your other breast to give that nipple the same attention. Your moans fill the kitchen and soon enough you’re trying to increase the rhythm of his fingers, needing more. “Something you need?” He teases, stopping his fingers again making you whine. “Daddy I need more. I want to cum, please?” You don’t care if you have to beg, you just want him to make you feel good. Placing both of his hands on either side of your waist, he helps you hop up on the counter, pushing your nightgown up to fully expose your dipping pussy to his hungry eyes. Sinking to his knees, Marcus places a kiss to the inside of your thigh before licking a broad stripe through your folds. Throwing your head back, you take one of your hands to grip onto Marcus’s hair, moaning.

“Thank you Daddy, th-that’s so good,” you babble as he sucks on your clit, taking the finger that was teasing your entrance and pushing it inside, moaning against you as he feels how your pussy already clenches around the digit. Adding a second finger into your dripping hole, Marcus starts to match his thrusts to the same rhythm of his sucking on your clit. You’re a mess, pulling on his hair after a particularly hard suck, taking everything he gives you. You feel the coil in your belly tighten as he continues, crying out his name as you feel a third finger start to stretch you out and search for your g-spot. Knowing what he’s after, you start to ride his face, “Come on, you know what I want from you, my good girl gonna squirt for me? Soak me as a thank you for breakfast?” His eyes are almost black with lust as he starts eating you out like a man starved, fingers not stopping as they press against that spongy spot inside of you.

Hot tears are running down your face as you feel your orgasm building even stronger than before, “It’s coming, pleasepleaseplease,” you’re babbling and pulling him closer to you, desperate for release. All it takes is a few more harsh thrusts and a careful nip to your clit for you to feel the coil snap, screaming Marcus name as you absolutely gush. You and Marcus moan together as he starts licking you up, enjoying the absolute mess you’ve made of yourself and all over him. After you push against his head, not being able to handle his hands or fingers anymore, Marcus stands up. Taking you face in both hands, he starts attacking your lips again, tongue licking against your bottom him to have you open up for him, tongues dancing against each other allowing you to taste yourself and him.

Breaking the kiss to come up for air, Marcus pressed his forehead against yours, thumbs rubbing circles on either side of your hips. “Baby?” he whispers and you hum back in acknowledgement, still too tired to do anything else. “We’re not done get, princess, I want to make you feel good again,” he starts grinding his clothed but hard cock against your still exposed core. You whine, still sensitive, but soon start to pull him closer so you can kiss his chest, shoulders, any bit of skin your lips can reach. “Are you gonna fuck me? Please D-Daddy,” you whine, stuttering after a hard thrust from Marcus who can only groan in response, getting lost in the feeling of your hot and wet pussy soaking through his already ruined underwear. “You bet baby, gonna give you a big present,” he coos. Taking a step back, Marcus carefully helps you off the counter onto shaky legs and leads you to your bedroom.

Peeling off the robe and nightgown from your body, you crawl on top of the bed, watching him with lust-filled eyes as he finally peels off the ruined boxers. “Look at this,” grabbing his hard cock Marcus starts to lazily pump himself, “see what you do to me? You make me so fucking hard.” Propping yourself up on your elbows, you reach an arm out and start making a grabby hand at him, pouting. “Please, please fuck me,” you whine. Chuckling darkly Marcus stalks towards the bed and pulls at your ankle, causing you to fall onto your back. “Not like this yet baby, hands and knees,” he tuts and gives your thigh a light slap. Nodding you slowly roll yourself over to get on shaky knees, presenting your ass to him and letting your head fall against the cool pillows.

You feel the mattress dip behind you as Marcus joins you on the bed, still pumping his length as he runs a finger through your soaked folds causing you to lean into his touch. He slaps your ass, making you jerk forward and moan, “so needy already. You got to cum nice and hard for me and if you wanna be my good girl you’ll do it again, but you will take what I give you,” he slaps the other cheek making you moan again. Whimpering you nod against the pillow, y-yes Daddy, sorry Daddy.” With that you finally feel him rub the blunt tip of his cock through your folds before sinking into you with one long thrust. You both groan at the feeling of him finally filling you up. After giving you a moment to adjust to the stretch of him, Marcus firmly grips your hips and starts pounding into you. “You’re such a good girl,” he growls, “taking my big cock so well. Your pussy just sucking me up, don’t wanna let me go huh? Cock to good?” All you can do is clench around him and chant his name over and over again, a prayer that he won’t stop. 

“Tell me how good it feels,” he demands and leans forward to deepen the angle he’s pounding into you with. The change makes you scream, drooling on the pillow from how good he’s fucking you. “You’re so good Daddy, so deep and big, I love you I love you I love you,” you sob. Marcus knows he’s close, thrusts getting sloppier as he loses himself in the feeling of your hot walls gripping his dick the way he likes, but he wants you to come again, soak him one more time. He pulls out, making you whine before flipping you on your back. Grabbing your legs, he wraps them around his waist before pushing into you again, resuming his brutal pace. Not feeling deep enough, Marcus throws your right leg over his shoulder, keeping his grip on your left leg still wrapped around him. You moan as you feel him deeper once again and your eyes roll back as he takes his free hand and starts rubbing your clit with his thumb, matching his thrusts. “Yes Daddy, yesyesyesyesyes I wanna cum again I’ll be s-so sosososo good,” you sob as more hot tears roll down your cheeks. His grip on you tightens as he speeds up, baring his teeth from the force he’s shredding that spot inside of you, “yeah? Gonna soak me again? Show me how much your pussy loves my cock, show me you’re my good girl,” he taunts.

You can’t respond, you can’t do anything but just take it and enjoy the feeling building inside of you. Marcus can feel your pussy flutter around him and knows you’re almost there. Looking down at his thumb rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves, he spits right on your clit, rubbing frantically knowing he won’t last much longer. “I-I-I-” you try to warn him but are cut off by your own cries of pleasure. Your eyes roll back in your head as you feel your orgasm rip through you, even more aggressive than before. “Fuck yeah baby,” Marcus moans as he gives one more hard thrust, the feeling of you squirting on him again finally giving him permission to bury himself inside of you and paint your walls with ropes of hot cum. Collapsing on top of you, you both are panting heavily, desperately trying to catch your breath. “Mmmmmm, thank you honey,” you murmur, kissing Marcus’s temple as you lift a pleasure-weak hand to run your fingers through his hair. Nuzzling into your neck, Marcus places a kiss over the bruise starting to form from earlier, “anything for my birthday Queen.”

As much as you enjoyed laying there with Marcus, you couldn’t deny you were starting to feel sticky and uncomfortable, gently tugging on his hair to get him to meet your eyes, “As much as I love this Marcus, I’m starting to feel kind of gross,” you giggle. He chuckles too and gives your nose a quick peck before gently pulling out of you. Moving to sit up, Marcus gently pushes you back with a small huff, “one second baby, I just wanna look,” he gently says as he crawls down your body to admire the way both of your releases are leaking out of you. Not being able to resist, Marcus gives a gentle lick to your sensitive hole, soothing you as you whine from sensitivity, “just wanted a little taste, that’s all, better than any icing,” he winks. Rolling your eyes you finally sit up and allow Marcus to walk you into your bathroom and get started on filling up your bathtub just the way you like. Once he’s got the tub filled and scattered rose petals across the water, you get up and wrap yourself around his back. Placing a kiss to his naked shoulder you murmur, “I love you baby, thank you for always being so good to me.” He gently untangles your arms from around him to get you in the tub, crawling in behind you. Once you’re comfortably laying against his chest he kisses your temple.

“Anything for you baby, anything.”

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 14 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Title: Succession Chapter 14

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader

Rating: NC-17 for sex and language (blowjob, cunnilingus, squirting)

Summary:  you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter 14

You walked into Heisenberg’s living quarters and went straight to his bed.  With a soft oomph, you fell forward and pressed your face into the sheets.

Exhaustion hit you suddenly as you and Heisenberg re-entered the factory after shopping for supplies from the Duke.  You and he hadn’t slept much, for obvious reasons.  You couldn’t keep your hands off him.  The sex was astounding and in the short span of time you two spent in bed, Heisenberg quickly learned all of the ways to make you scream.  Other than the six hours you had slept next to him, the rest of the time was spent making each other cum.

Heisenberg smirked as he entered his room, placing the sack of items on the table.  “Are you tired?” he asked, pulling out the few pounds of meat he purchased, taking it to the refrigerator.

“I’m so tired,” you moaned, rolling onto your back.  You looked up at the ceiling as you kicked off your shoes.  “Aren’t you tired?  I don’t think I’ve seen you sleep since...well, since…”

“...since we started fucking?” Heisenberg finished your sentence with his crass spin on it.  You and he laughed simultaneously.

“I think I’m gonna take a nap.  Care to join me?” you asked.  You sat up on your elbows and watched as he put away a few more items throughout his room.

“You go ahead.  I’m going to take the rest of my things downstairs and do some work for a few hours…”

His response disappointed you.  You had hoped to fall into a deep sleep with his strong arms holding you close.  “Okay,” you said, dejected.

Heisenberg noticed your change in tone and turned his head to you.  You stood from the bed and unbuttoned and unzipped your pants, taking them off.  The familiar stirring was in his cock and for the briefest of moments, he thought of putting his work off for another day and spending the entire day in bed with you again.  But he was close to a breakthrough in his lab.  

He walked to you and cupped your face in his hands, tilting your head so you could look up at him.  “Two to three hours at the most,” he promised, “and then I’m all yours…”

You smiled, nodded, and pushed up on your tiptoes to kiss him.  His lips pressed to yours in a long, searing kiss.  You grabbed his trenchcoat and pulled him closer.  Feeling mischievous and knowing you could drive him wild, you let out a soft and pleading moan as your arms wrapped around him, pressing your tits against his chest.  Your tongue pushed into his mouth and slid against his.  You moaned again and rolled your hips against his cock.  He pulled his mouth away and looked down at the playful glint in your eyes.

“Mmmmm you don’t play fair…” Heisenberg growled against your lips.  You giggled and went back to the bed, pulling the sheets back and sliding underneath.

*

As soon as Heisenberg left, you fell fast asleep.  He left the door open a crack, much to your amazement.  He must be so sure of himself and his ability to dick you down that he knew you wouldn’t dare go anywhere.  But if you were being honest, him leaving the door open showed you that he trusted you and that he didn’t want to keep you cooped up in his room for hours on end.  It made you happy.

You awoke to the sound of Heisenberg’s footsteps coming down the hallway.  Stretching languidly, you turned towards his nightstand and saw that it had been a little under three hours since he had left.  You had slept the entire time.

Letting out a moan as you stretched, you looked towards the door just in time to see Heisenberg slowly push it open.  His eyes fell on you in his bed, looking relaxed and beautiful.  He took the moment to lean against the doorway and take you in.  The oversized shirt that you had worn earlier was still on, the sheets up to your waist, and your head resting on one of his pillows.  You looked sleepy drunk and peaceful.  A soft smile was on your face as your hands rested on the pillow.  You looked mesmerizing.  Heisenberg’s heart caught in his chest....a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He pulled his leather gloves off and dropped them on the kitchen counter before walking into the room and slowly making his way towards you.  The look on his face said it all and it went straight between your legs like a lightning bolt.

You pulled the covers back and sat up on the side of the bed, putting your feet flat on the floor.  He stopped before you, looking down at your face.  You watched as he slowly took his sunglasses and hat off and placed them on the nightstand.

“Did you sleep?” he asked, taking his fingers and caressing them down your jawline.

“Mmmm hmmmm…” you moaned, pressing your hands to the bed, keeping your head tilted upwards, never tearing your eyes from his.  His touch gave you goosebumps and you shivered when Heisenberg took his thumb and ran it across your lower lip.  His eyes were soft and searching, taking in every facial feature.  In his eyes, you were fucking breathtaking.  Your gaze could bring him to his knees.  Your lips felt incredible against his lips.  He would roam around the world twice for you and burn entire cities to the ground if anyone took you from him.  This is why he would make sure that Mother Miranda never found you hiding in his factory.  You were too valuable to him.

His gaze on your lips was so intense, he didn’t notice when you lifted your hands to his belt and started to undo it.  Looking down, he watched as you peeled the belt back and started to unbutton and unzip his pants.

“Y/N…” he whispered, swallowing hard.

You didn’t respond as you pushed his pants down far enough to release his cock.  Pre-cum stemmed from the tip and you leaned forward to lick it off with your tongue.

“Oh fuck…” he moaned, his right hand moving to your hair.  His fingers combed through your tresses as you looked up, fusing your gaze with his, and took the tip of his dick into your mouth.

Heisenberg’s mouth dropped open and he tilted his head back.  His moan hit your ears as your tongue slid around and around the head.  You watched with wonder as this tall, strong man took immense pleasure in your mouth.  He moaned over and over and it made your blood pulse between your legs.  The power you felt and the pleasure that you could bestow to him was addicting.

You slowly bobbed your mouth back and forth, taking more of him towards the back of your throat.

“Y/N...fuck...don’t stop...keep doing that...just like that…” he groaned, looking back down at you.  His hand dug into your scalp as you moaned around his dick.  The two of you kept your eyes on each other.  You pulled his cock out of your mouth with a wet pop and lifted it in your hand, taking your tongue and licking from the base up to the underside of the head.

At the feel of your tongue lightly tickling the sensitive area on the underside, Heisenberg cursed loudly, his mouth open and his brow furrowed.  You left soft kisses up and down his length, going back to the head and licking the beads of pre-cum that dribbled downwards.

Heisenberg would have sold his soul to you in that moment.  Your mouth was exquisite and talented.  When you took him back in your mouth, he growled loudly and began to thrust his hips forward.  You relaxed your throat, placing your hands on his hips, and let him take control.

Tears stung your eyes as he slowly fucked your mouth.  He moaned your name and showered you with praises.  You were desperate to touch your pussy.  You wanted to squeeze your thighs together for some type of friction.  Watching Heisenberg get himself off with your mouth was a wonderful vision.  You could suck his cock for hours if it meant you could watch him lose control.

“I’m close…” he panted, “...I want...to cum...can I...can I cum in your mouth?”

You didn’t want anything more in that moment than to taste the spurts of cum as it slid down your throat.  You hummed and nodded your head slightly in approval.

As if a switch had been flipped, Heisenberg’s eyes clouded and something dark peered down at you.  Gripping the back of your head, he started thrusting harder, the tip bumping against the back of your throat.  You reminded yourself to relax your throat and breathe through your nose.  You wanted this...you wanted to please him…

“Oh fuck...Y/N...this fucking mouth...it’s gonna be the death of me...oh fuck...fuck…” and with a loud shout, he called your name as he came.  Your fingers gripped his hips, tears spilling down your cheeks, as you swallowed over and over, tasting his salty release.

He pulled his hips back, his cock pulling away from your mouth.  Your tongue licked around your lips and you lifted your hand to wipe away remnants of spit and cum from the edges of your mouth.  You smiled up at him as he pushed himself back in his pants.  His breathing was ragged when he looked back at you.

“God damn, pussycat, you are amazing,” he praised as he moved to his knees in front of you.  Without missing a beat, he went for your panties, pulling them down your legs quickly.  You fell back on the bed with a gasp as Heisenberg put your legs, one after the other, over his shoulders.  Before you could put two and two together, his mouth attacked your pussy.

“Oh fuck, Karl!!” you squealed, looking down at him.  His tongue slid from your opening up to your clit and back again.  He moaned and shoved his tongue inside of you.  His magnetic eyes were focused on yours and it was incredibly erotic.  Heisenberg looking up at you while he tongue fucked your cunt was a vision that you were gonna have to remember the next time you touched yourself.  Pulling his tongue from inside of you, he slowly licked upwards to your clit.

You watched as his talented appendage circled around your sensitive bundle of nerves.  His hands held your hips firmly to the bed.  Your left hand gripped the bed sheet as your right hand went to the back of his head, pulling hard on his hair.

Heisenberg was ferocious, devouring your cunt like he was ravenous.  His lips closed over your clit, sucking hard.  With a helpless whimper, you tossed your head back and shrieked loudly, your hips squirming.  You wanted more, but his tongue flicking your most sensitive area was so overpowering that you felt like you were in flight mode.

“Karl...oh fuck...it’s too much...oh fuck...I’m too sensitive…” you pleaded, but your words fell on deaf ears.  He growled loudly in his throat and continued to suck on your clit.  You screamed and bucked your hips as your legs trembled on either side of his head.

Heisenberg finally tore his mouth from your pussy.  You struggled to catch your breath before he took the index and middle fingers of his right hand and pushed them inside of you.  His left hand replaced his mouth on your clit, rubbing circles hard and fast.

“You dirty little girl…” Heisenberg teased as he looked up your body, “...you think after that fucking incredible blowjob that I wasn’t gonna return the favor?  Oh pussycat...I am gonna make you cum until you are a sopping mess on my bed…”

Your back arched and you gripped the sheets tightly as his fingers brought you closer and closer to the edge.  Your orgasm kept climbing and you knew that if you didn’t cum soon that you were going to pass out.

“Karl...oh god...fuck!” you squealed.  You sat up and pushed your hips forward, desperate for more of his fingers.  He finger fucked you with reckless abandon as his eyes took in your body writhing on his bed.  You lifted your hips and started bucking uncontrollably.  You needed him so badly...you would have done anything just for him to make you cum.

“I could spend forever between your legs, Y/N…” Heisenberg said, his mouth attacking your inner thigh.  His teeth sank into your skin as he growled loudly.  You were close...so fucking close…

“Karl...Karl...Karl...OH FUCK KARL PLEASE!!!!” you screamed as you toppled over the precipice, squirting on his fingers, the clear fluid drenching his buttoned up shirt.  Heisenberg laughed in triumph as you collapsed back on the bed, your chest rising and falling as you shuddered from head to toe.

He continued to rub your clit slowly before you couldn’t take it anymore.  You pushed his hand away and rolled onto your side, absolutely exhausted.  Heisenberg stood to his feet, a satisfied smile on his face, and unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall to the floor.  He did away with the items around his neck, his undershirt and kicked off his boots as you struggled to catch your breath.

He chuckled as he slid into bed, pulling your back to his front.  “Ssshhhhh...I’ve got you, dollface…” he purred, rubbing his hand up and down your arm.  You relaxed back against him, feeling another wave of tiredness.  

Before long you were asleep in his arms.  He held you close, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, before slowly slipping into unconsciousness.

[tenthgrove]

500 Followers Celebration!!!: Part 2 (Yandere Sorbet and Gelato Oneshot)

Apologies for almost forgetting to post this. It's a little something I wrote back in May but never shared with more than a few people. Anyway, I'm shameless, and to celebrate 500 followers I'm releasing it into the wild.

Content warnings: non-consensual drug use, needles (both only mentioned) and typical yandere stuff.

You aren’t certain what the dream was about. It wasn’t a nightmare, you’re certain, but the concrete themes evade you. What you can remember in retrospect, however, is the distinct feeling that something was wrong in the waking world around you. It was as though your rational mind knew, that when the dream ended, the life you would wake up to would be changed irreparably.

The first thing to be said about the room you awake to is that it’s dark. Not the usual dark of your bedroom at night but truly, pitch black. There’s something different about the… aura, as well. Maybe it’s the scent, maybe it’s the feel of your sheets, maybe its the position you’re lying in. This is not your bed.

Your panic rises by the second. Any hope you might still be dreaming is quickly put down to idle hope. Everything about this feels so real. You are struck by the need to get up, to figure out where you are, and kick off the sheets. That’s when you hear rattling. Your arm is heavy. You reach down and feel the cold presence of limp chain at your side. There’s a shackle too, locked around your wrist with no room to wriggle free. If there’s any more proof you needed of what’s happened to you, this is it.

The panic overtakes you. You thrash desperately, pulling at your chain and whimpering in terror. There’s a clicking noise and something pulls free. You become aware of a second item tied around your wrist. It’s a thin string, with nothing attached. You realise with terror that it was some sort of trip-wire.

All possible courses of action spring to your mind too late as footsteps make their way down towards you. There’s multiple people, it sounds like, which doesn’t speak well for your chances. Bundling up your sheets, you huddle against the wall as the door swings open. A light switch flicks on.

As your dark-strained eyes adjust to the light, you are met with the figures of two men. The first, hand still lingering on the switch as he eyes you back, is a slender, dark-dressed man with black hair to match his clothes. The man beside him is smaller and slightly pudgier. His wild green eyes peak out from under his messy yellow hair. His gaze fixes on you, before dissolving into an expression that could be fear, excitement or both. He suddenly lurches forwards. His hands grip your shoulders firmly.

“Oh, look at you!” he coos. You force yourself to meet his gaze and see the wildness with which he looks at you. “Oh Sorbet, aren’t they pretty! Look at them Sorbet, they’re just wonderful!” The hyperactive man stumbles back as though wanting to get a better look at you. His hand is clasped over his mouth like you’re some puppy he just found at the shelter. The taller man takes hold of him from behind and rubs his arms affectionately. His mouth turns up into a small smile.

“Yes my darling, they’re beautiful,” he agrees. “But you shouldn’t touch them just yet. They might still be delirious from the drugs. All said,” he eyes you critically. “They shouldn’t be awake this soon.”

“Does it hurt sweetie?” his partner asks. There’s an uncanny, authentic concern to question that somehow turns your stomach more.

“N-no,” you stammer, keeping your eyes trained on the concrete floor. Truth be told, you’ve got a bit of a headache and the back of your throat pangs with nausea, but it isn’t bad enough to tell them. You decide to keep it to yourself.

“Did you give them that second dose in the end, Gelato?” the calmer man, you believe his name was Sorbet, asks. He approaches you casually and kneels down, pressing a hand to your forehead. “No fever anyway, so it doesn’t look like there’s been a reaction.”

“No. You said not to do it if they seemed fast asleep enough, so I didn’t,” Gelato answers.

“Well, there you have it then,” Sorbet says, apparently satisfied of your good health as he stands back up.

“I could always go find some more of the stuff. If you need more time to get everything ready for them,” Gelato proposes. Sorbet’s eyes flick up and down you as though contemplating what to do with you. He shrugs.

“Probably best to save it. I’d say we’ve already done everything we need to do, so they might as well stay awake for a bit,” he surmises. “Well.” He reaches forward and presses something, a key, you realise when you lean back far enough to look, into a slot on the grate attaching your chain to the wall. It falls free of the wall and chinks onto the ground.

Sorbet leans down again. You realise with a cold sweat that he’s trying to pick you up. Your attempts to scurry into the corner are quickly halted by a sharp yank to your chain, and a moment later you’re lifted against Sorbet’s chest, your faced pressed into the crook of his neck. “Could you please do the door for me, Gel? I’m taking them to the bathroom.” he asks. Gelato mutters something eager and hurries off to open the door from him. You struggle lightly in Sorbet’s hold and he silently presses two fingers against your neck. You take the warning and go still in fear.

Sorbet carries you up a flight of stairs and into the hall of, by all appearances, an ordinary residential house. It’s night, but a warm yellow ceiling lamp sheds light on your surroundings. The walls are a pale, turquoise green, accented by a white wood skirting that runs along the bottom metre. To your left you can see an archway into a clean but cluttered kitchen, lights off, and another staircase is ahead of you bending around to your right. To your right, along the hallway you’ve been carried into, are two more doors, one at the end and one perpendicular to it, the latter of which Sorbet leads you into. Peering over his shoulder, Gelato follows behind you. He catches your gaze and smiles sweetly. You quickly look down at the floor.

Sorbet flicks another switch and another light turns on, along with the gentle humming of ventilation. You adjust your eyes to see that you’re in a small, downstairs bathroom. Furnished with a toilet, sink and shower. Sorbet sits you down on the lid of the toilet and kneels down in front of you.

“You look disorientated. Are you sure you aren’t in any pain?” he asks.

“Just a little,” you admit. Your words a little slurred. “My head hurts. ‘Feel sick too.”

Sorbet sighs.

“You should have told us, (y/n),” he asserts, a hint of frustration, in his voice. That was your name. They know your name somehow. You mumble an apology.

“Oh darling. I’ll have to get you some paracetamol. You really should have said! Oh, and also a bucket for if you get sick in the night. Maybe some ice?”

As Gelato rambles from the doorway, Sorbet pulls a pack of wipes from the sink cabinet and starts to pat down your arms, wiping away the layer of crusted blood. Your heart stills. You didn’t notice that before.

“Why is there blood?” you ask weakly, eyes fixed on the sight. Sorbet dabs away at what appears to be the centre of the wound. His free hand rubs your knuckles slightly.

“You fought back, don’t you remember? Some defensive damage was inevitable,” he answers you.

“No!” you refute, louder than you intended. “I don’t remember anything like that. I don’t know howI got here.”

“Ah,” Sorbet responds. “I imagine that’s from what we gave you,” he explains. A few images flash across the back of your mind. Broken glass. Screaming, fighting. The feeling of being pinned to the floor. Your stomach twitches and you swallow back tears.

“What’s the matter sweetie? You look sad,” Gelato notices. No shit you’re sad. You’ve just been snatched from your home and yet to receive any guarantee you’ll live until morning. There’s a part of you that wants to scream these thoughts to them, but you’re too paralysed by fear and tiredness to do so. The tears start to run.

“Oh darling, darling!” Gelato hushes you, rushing over to wipe your eyes. “Don’t cry, it’s okay! We’re going to look after you!”

“Caro, you’re very good to them but I doubt any of that will work right now. They’re too worked up,” Sorbet notes. You sob into your lap as Gelato caresses your shoulder.

“We can’t just leave them like this, Sorbet. Not alone,” he shivers.

“Perhaps you’re right. Maybe it’s best we put them out again after all. We’ll be better ready to deal with this in the morning,” Sorbet suggests.

“Yes, that’s probably for the best, come on Sweetie, let’s get you back to bed shall we?” Gelato takes your chain and starts to haul you back towards the stairs to the basement, with Sorbet following close behind. When the dark of the basement hits you again, you’re just about ready to fall asleep, but you’re still aware enough to note the peculiar furnishings you missed before.

The mattress you woke up on is tucked away in the corner, swarmed with cushions, pillows and blankets. There’s a small cabinet next to it, along with a table a few feet away with a TV on it. On the other end of the room is a mini-fridge, next to a large empty case of shelves. Are those all… for you?

Gelato guides you to sit down on the mattress, wrapping a blanket around you and fluffing up a pillow as though trying to get you to lie down. As he does so, you’re vaguely aware of Sorbet slotting your chain back into the wall and locking it in place. He looks you up and down again, for a moment seeming to fixate on the stream of tears that run down your cheeks.

“I’m going to go for a minute now. I’ll come back with something to help you sleep. Is that okay, hmm?”

You nod weakly. Honestly, you’re so insanely terrified right now, that falling asleep truly sounds like the better option even if it renders you at their mercy. Sorbet adjusts the blanket around you.

“Alright, sit tight sweetheart. I’ll be back in just a moment,” he promises. He leaves you alone with Gelato. For a moment, the second man is quiet, a hint of something in his eyes that looks like sadness. He sits down next to you and rubs your fingers.

“I’ll stay with you until he comes back, okay?” he offers. You give a quiet hum of acknowledgement, staring straight ahead as your mind starts to dissociate. “It’s really nothing to worry about,” Gelato says. “Just a tiny prick in your arm and then you fall asleep in a few minutes. You’ve done it before, anyway, and we won’t give you so much this time.”

You don’t answer him. He goes still for a little, perhaps unsure of what to say, then pulls you in close against his shoulder. “You’re wonderful,” he tells you.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask him faintly.

“Because we love you.”

“Why?” you implore him. Before he can answer that you fall into renewed tears. Gelato’s voice seems to fade away from you as he frantically tries to calm you. You shut your eyes and hope for this to end. Whatever this is. You’re scared, and you just want to go home. You just want to stop this feeling of fear.

[killerandhealerqueen]

Hmm, what's this? A dark headcanon where Yu Tangchun's mother married Commander Zhan (either willingly or unwillingly) when he was in his pre-teens/early teens and Zhan Junbai becomes just as obsessive as in the show and refuses to let Yu Tangchun leave when he becomes an adult and tries to escape? I wonder where this belongs...

Oh anon...oh anon this is dark and fucked up...oh...my god

I love it

When Fu Cheng is about twelve, he's told by his mother that they are going to be moving to a new house as she has just gotten married. Fu Cheng is confused because his father died not too long ago and now his mother is already remarried?

What Fu Cheng doesn't understand is that his mother had to remarry because she had no source of income and while it would have been well within her right to find a job, she didn't have any other skills other than being a housewife so getting remarried was her only option

Fu Cheng hates that his mother got remarried but he doesn't try to argue with her and so they move into this large mansion, much larger than their old home, where they're greeted by a man and a boy about Fu Cheng's age, maybe two years older

The man then introduces himself as Commander Zhan Tianqing and that he is now Fu Cheng's step-father. Fu Cheng is abhorred because how could his mother go from someone like his father to a man like this

The other boy, who introduces himself as Zhan Junbai, smiles and Fu Cheng thinks that he's a little creepy but hopefully he's better than Zhan Tianqing

Turns out Zhan Junbai is so much better than Zhan Tianqing because unlike Zhan Tianqing who hates that Fu Cheng is so...feminine and follows after his mother in that he wants to be an opera singer, Zhan Junbai actually encourages him to learn opera

So as they grow up together, Zhan Junbai and Fu Cheng learn opera together because Zhan Tianqing won't let Zhan Junbai learn opera so Fu Cheng teaches him (but only whenever Zhan Tianqing is out of the house or not around)

However, as they get older, Zhan Junbai starts...acting weird. At first Fu Cheng liked him because he was nice and encouraged Fu Cheng to follow his dreams and comforted/protected him whenever Zhan Tianqing decided to shout at him or even hit him but now...now anytime Fu Cheng wants to leave the house, Zhan Junbai refuses to let him leave

He won't even let Fu Cheng step out of the house and go into the garden without him being there or unless a servant is with him. Fu Cheng hates it, he hates being a caged bird in a place he didn't even want to be in in the first place

Then one day Zhan Tianqing decides to slap Fu Cheng's mother for something she did (a small mistake probably) and Fu Cheng flies off the handle because how dare he hit his mother and Zhan Junbai has to grab him and hold him back from ripping his uncle to shreds (even though the bastard deserves it)

Fu Cheng is screaming profanities at Zhan Tianqing as Zhan Junbai tries to hold him back and Zhan Tianqing can't stand it anymore so he just turns and slaps Fu Cheng, stunning him into silence as he falls against Zhan Junbai

Zhan Tianqing then orders Zhan Junbai to take Fu Cheng away and make sure he doesn't "get out" or "cause problems" and Zhan Junbai can't say no to his uncle so he takes Fu Cheng upstairs to his room and chains him to a chair. Fu Cheng now is screaming profanities at Zhan Junbai but Zhan Junbai just smiles at him before he leaves the room, leaving Fu Cheng tied to the chair

Fu Cheng is only released from the chair to go to the bathroom and to take a shower but then again, he's either watched by a servant or by Zhan Junbai so that he can't escape because lets be honest, if you had Zhan Tianqing as a stepfather, you'd wanna book your ass out of there as fast as you could

So Fu Cheng plans. He plans and he waits because after a while, Zhan Junbai let him out of the chair and allowed him to move around his room (or even come downstairs when Zhan Tianqing wasn't home)

During the times he's allowed downstairs, he always tampers in the kitchen and since he had been taught by his mother what ingredients made you sick or what made you sleepy so he knew that his only way of escaping was to either make everyone incredibly sick or to make them fall unconscious...having sleeping pills would be easier but he doesn't have those...yet

So he decides that his best option was to make everyone sleepy so he decides to ask Zhan Junbai if he'll go to a chemist or a doctor and ask them for sleeping pills because he's having a hard time sleeping at night

Zhan Junbai at first doesn't buy his act and refuses to buy the pills so over the next couple of nights, Fu Cheng decides to stay up all night so that he had pronounced dark circles under his eyes and at one point almost passes out from delirium from not sleeping

After that, Zhan Junbai decides to go get the sleeping pills because catching Fu Cheng as he passes out was scary for him. Once he has the sleeping pills, Fu Cheng discreetly crushes them up and when it's close to dinner time that night, he quietly slips downstairs to the kitchen and pours the crushed sleeping pills into the soup, making sure that it's properly dissolved

Later that evening, as their eating their dinner as a "family", Fu Cheng watches as everyone eats the soup and he just smiles to himself as he takes a sip of his tea, waiting for the pills to kick in

It doesn't take very long and soon his mother, Zhan Junbai, and Zhan Tianqing are all passed the fuck out while he quietly slips out of his chair, quietly heads upstairs, packs a suitcase, then heads to the master bedroom, quietly stealing his mother's prayer beads before he quietly slips downstairs, glancing over at the others one last time before he heads to the door and opens it, slipping away

As he ran away from the mansion, he let out a delighted little laugh to himself. He was finally free. And of course he felt terrible for leaving his mother in that situation but he couldn't stay there any longer...he needed to get away. And now he's finally free. Of course, this means he's going to have to go into hiding for a while before he come back to society but that's okay because at least he'll be free and away from Zhan Tianqing and Zhan Junbai

Or so he thought

[serendipityjxmn]

Mr. President

Chapter 16

TW: Rape attempt

Words Count: 1.6k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 17

You wake up feeling thirsty that night. Jimin isn’t in bed, as he’d been the past few days. You briefly wonder if he’s sleeping in some other room. You don’t glance at the clock but figured that it’s around 2 or 3AM.

You reach the teapot on your bedside to pour some water into a glass but none of it comes out. You’ve forgotten to refill it before you head to sleep. Too sleepy to curse at yourself, you stand up albeit groggily.

You make your way downstairs and only after gulping down two glasses of water do you feel sated of your thirst.

You’re about to head back upstairs when you heard some noise. You freeze in your steps, unsure of the source. Did someone break into your house? Though you don’t think the securities in this house is that amateur.

Taking another step, you hear the noise again and it takes you a moment to realize it’s your husband’s voice. Unknowingly, you walk towards the source of the noise and your husband’s voice that leads you to the house backyard.

Your husband is shouting at someone. There’s probably about 8 or 9 people including your husband, you couldn’t be sure. Someone is brought to kneel in front of him.

“Why the fuck would you bring him here?” He hisses.

“Sorry sir- I thought-“

“I don’t give a fuck about what you thought- my wife’s here-“ he runs a hand through his hair, speaking in harsh hushed tone. “Fuck it, just do it quick, give me the silencer-“

Someone thrusts a gun into your husband’s hand.

He cocks the gun and-

A piercing scream breaks out and suddenly everyone turns towards you. You realize the sound comes out from you. You’re screaming hysterically, eyes wide as soon as you see the man that was kneeling in front of your husband few seconds ago is now lying on the floor, no longer breathing.

Hands clasping your mouth, you swing around and starts running, too shell shocked to even cry.

You’re freaked out, you don’t even know your destination until you see the room at the end of hallway, the small room that had been your safe space and without thinking, you run towards it.

As soon as you lock the door, you find yourself sinking to the floor. Your body trembles and you feel hard to breath and then you start crying. You cry and simply cry for hours until your body’s too exhausted to cry anymore. You’re still trembling, lips pale from the traumatic scene that you just witnessed.

Jimin did come, knocking on the door and frantically shouts your name. But eventually he stopped. And you fall asleep, body still shivering.

When you finally find the strength to stand the next morning, Jimin has already gone out. He didn’t come home again that night.

You know your husband is a dangerous man. You’d seen it firsthand when he beats your brother half dead when you first saw him, and he’s never failed to remind you how dangerous he is.

From his cold demeanor, his reflex when someone is too close to him, how his footsteps are so silent, how he expertly handles the gun like he’s been doing it all his life, you know Jimin’s way more dangerous than he lets on to you.

He’d done a perfect job in hiding that dark part of his life, you’d give that to him.

And now that you know, you guess Jimin assumes it’s more dangerous as he levels up the security for you. Taeseok had kindly introduces you to them all, which by the way are four of them including Taeseok himself and informs you that you’re not allowed out unless there’s security with you. This is all by Jimin’s orders which he tells through Taeseok since he doesn’t come home for days now.

For someone who thinks you’re nothing, he sure is taking your security too seriously.

You’re angry with him. You really are. But when he doesn’t come home for the next whole week, you end up pacing back and forth in the foyer.

From prying and constantly pestering your poor new bodyguard, you’ve finally confirmed your suspicion that Jimin’s in a mafia gang. But that doesn’t surprise you. It is the fact that Jimin is actually the head of the mafia gang called BTS, and is the most notorious and influential as they hold most of the areas in Seoul. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask the specifics of his underground business. Having a thug brother, you perfectly know well that there would be drugs and gamblings involved, or women.

You should be worried about that fact. The fact that your husband is a mafia leader. Your level of worry each night he doesn’t come home has increased on a significant level. You don’t really know if he’s gonna come home in one piece.

You find yourself staring blankly around the house because it feels even more empty than usual. There’s a strange hollow that follows it. And that’s how you find yourself sleeping again on the bed that the two of you share in the master bedroom. With his shirt.

You’ve always loved his smell. His vanilla scent that smells soft to your nose yet manly at the same time, his smell. So you pick one of his white shirt and sleeps hugging it.

The fact that you found out your husband’s a killer.. and yet you’re still worried about him.. what level of twisted is this?

It’s about at 3AM, you think, that you heard a sound, waking you up from slumber and you’re immediately aware of every sense, eyes shot open.

“Fuck-“ it’s Jimin’s voice that makes you sit up immediately. You can barely see him in the dark of the room with very little light illuminating.

“Y/N?”

You fumble to switch the bedside lamp on and scramble to your feet immediately and approaches him in the speed of light.

“Sorry didn’t mean to wake you-“

You’re about to throw your hands around him, to just hug him tight but stops short when you take in his disheveled appearance. He’s in his white shirt, his blazer and tie already discarded. But something feels wrong.

You reach out and almost jerks away when you feel a wet patch on his shirt. It takes you a few moments to realize it’s blood. The thick smell of copper filling your noise instantly.

Your eyes widen and you gasp aloud, “Oh God Jimin, are you okay? What’s this?” You ask frantically.

“I’m fine-“

“No Jimin, let me see-“ your hands are trembling, flashes of images of him killing the person few nights ago that still traumatises you filling your mind, you frantically unbutton his shirt, desperate to check if he’s okay and he just lets you.

Your hands are everywhere on the expanse of his chest and his chiseled abs and then you realize he’s perfectly fine and it isn’t his blood. Your whole body visibly relaxes and you let out a relieved sigh.

And then it suddenly dawns to you that you just unbuttoned him all the way down and now he’s half naked.

You fumble to take a step back but he catches your wrist immediately, startling you.

“What’s wrong, kitten?”

Kit.. kitten? “N- nothing.”

He juts his jaw towards the bed. “What’s my shirt doing on the bed?”

Your whole body goes rigid. You don’t even know how to explain everything.

“Did you miss me..?” He whispers, voice close to your ear making you shudder.

You stand frozen in his grip, shaking your head slowly. He only stares at you as you look down.

Thankfully, he releases you, perhaps taking pity after your shock. “I’m gonna shower.” He says then just leaves for the bathroom.

Flushing red, you sprint towards the bed to fetch his shirt back and chuck it into his drawer. You climb back onto bed, heart still beating fast. Where had he been? You were wondering if he would even tell you if you ask or if that’s stepping over the line or boundaries.

You’re lost in your own thought, eyes about to flutter shut when suddenly you feel a hand firmly placed on your waist.

Your hearbeat picks up again.

You turn around, lying on your back now to see Jimin, hovering above you and hands now all over you. Your stomach, your chest, your breasts-

You start to panic. “J-Jimin what are y-you doing?”

His hands are quick to hold your wrist firmly when you start to squirm, trying to escape. He leans down, lips dangerously close to your face.

“You are mine. To kiss anywhere I want.. To touch wherever I want.. and to kill.. whenever I want. Do not forget that.”

His left hand remains on your wrist, gripping it tight above your head while his other hand goes to the strap of your nightgown. You swallow thickly when he slides them down your arm. His hand brushes your half exposed breast very slightly and your entire body go still in shock.

You feel his tongue nipping at your neck as his fingers move daintily from your jaw to your neck, your shoulder and then your breast.

He moves and you gasp when you feel his hardened crotch against you and you’ve never felt so terrified.

You like him. No, you love your husband.

And what you would give for him to touch you intimately.

But you don’t want to give it to him like this, in this state. No emotions, no feelings, no love.

His head dips down to kiss you but you’re quicker to turn your head and avoids him.

“Jimin stop!” You yell.

And all his actions ceased.

Hot tears roll all over your cheeks. Clutching onto your tattered nightgown, trying hard to prevent the silk material from further slipping, you get up from the bed and leaves the room.

Link to Chapter 17

Posted on 210517 9:00PM

[archipelagolago]

For Harringrove April Day 26: "Easy"

Debajo de las estrellas, empezamos de nuevo (Beneath the stars, we start anew)

÷÷÷÷

They agree to take it slow this time.

After Billy is released from the hospital with scars over his chest, arms, and torso that will never fade. Wounds to his psyche that will never fully heal. A new pacemaker and a nephrostomy catheter he has to drain with every trip to the bathroom.

After Steve's latest concussion leaves him with terrible migraines, motion sickness, and defective depth perception. After his latest run-in with the upside down leaves him with horrifying nightmares, debilitatingly anxiety, and life-threatening recklessness.

They no longer share quick and sloppy sex in cramped cars, closets, bathrooms. Instead they share warm cuddles, gentle words, late night crying fits.

Instead, they take it easy, do this slowly, touch softly.

Make it work for real.

The night Billy is discharged from the hospital, he picks Steve up, drives them out to the quarry. Steve doesn't drive anymore; can't, with his messed up depth perception and memories of the Camaro up in flames.

When they get there, laying over gravel and resilient shoots of grass, staring up at the distant stars,

Steve says, "I wanna take it slow this time around. Wanna take it easy with you."

And Billy nods. Says with a sigh, "It always feels easy when I'm with you."

Steve makes a sound at the edge of his throat, almost like a whimper. Almost like a song.

He rolls to the side and leans over Billy. Gives his forehead a melodic kiss and says, "Never thought I'd be able to do this. Never thought you'd let me feel at home with you."

Tears are dripping from Billy's eyes by the time Steve pulls back. But he isn't sad. He's symphonic. He's melting in the symphony that is Steve's hand in his. Melting in the knowledge that this- this is what it feels like, to be truly loved.

And things will never be perfect, but from now on, he will always know he is loved.

________

One quiet afternoon in spring, Steve comes back from work looking forward to mindless cartoons and cooking dinner with Billy. Instead. He finds Billy breaking down.

Finds him locked in the upstairs bathroom. Curled in the bathtub, shower running with the water on the hottest setting. Their two heaters running full blast. Billy is convinced he's been possessed again, is trying to force the shadow out.

Steve has to break down the door. Turn off the heaters and the water. Force Billy to look at him with two hands cradling his jaw. Convince him the shadow passed months ago. Rub his back when the adrenaline dies down and the heat has him vomiting.

He takes Billy to the downstairs bathroom for a cold shower. Gets in and holds him through it.

They go to bed early that night. Blanket kicked off and holding each other tightly under Steve's plaid sheet.

________

Sometimes, when Steve wakes up from yet another nightmare. Yet another replay of Billy's body hitting the mall floor for what could have been the last time. He reaches out and grips Billy's shoulders too tightly.

He sobs and begs him to make it stop.

Cries, "Please. Promise me you're really here. Promise me I'm not dreaming this."

And Billy does. Promises he's here and safe and living. Slowly pulls Steve's shaking, squeezing hands from his shoulders. Wraps his lover's arms around his middle so Steve can hold him. So Steve can trace his fingers over Billy's scars and confirm that he lived through it.

________

So. Nothing will ever be perfect. But they share a love that makes moving forward possible.

Because Billy meant it when he said that everything feels easy when he's with Steve. Steve makes it easy, to be happy, sad, angry, terrified. Steve let's him be genuine. Let's him be honest about what he's feeling. Doesn't make him force on a mask.

Steve laughs with him when he's happy. Brings him ice cream when he's sad. Walks out to the treeline and screams with him when he's mad; let's him throw punches into the earth.

Steve holds him close and makes promises he can keep when Billy gets frightened. Smiles when Billy restlessly braids sections of chestnut hair to soothe his anxiety.

Steve lets him be. Steve lets him be himself.

++

And Billy, he. He feels like home for Steve.

Because sometimes, Steve starts to think he's stopped being a solid human being. Feels like he's floating away. Feels.. wispy. Thinks maybe he's started dissolving. Wonders if he every really was solid matter. But then Billy is there. And Steve can exhale and feel real. Feel like he exists in an undeniable way. He remembers what home feels like. It feels like Billy.

Being with Billy is being at home.

________

So. Being together means unstoppable force meets immovable object. In a way that feels safe. In a way that means, even though the world falls through, they will always be pushing up against each other. They will always be head to head, heart to heart, never pushing each other off the road. Never crashing past and leaving behind. And in the early-morning-dead-of-night, they know: this love is enough.☄️

[teawaffles]

The Fugitives from the Fire: Chapter 3

Note: Some language.

Showers of sparks flew in all directions, fanned by blasts of hot air; amidst all that, both police officers and locals were using buckets and pots to throw water on the flames, in a strenuous bid to put out the fire.

“……Oi oi, we’ve already got a problem?” Sherlock mumbled, half in shock.

It wouldn’t be easily resolved — in an unexpected way, those words had come true. Lestrade grabbed a nearby officer by the arm.

“What the hell happened here?!”

The officer answered loudly, almost in a scream.

“A fire broke out! The building we were holding the criminal in caught fire!”

“……Jesus!”

Lestrade spat that word out, and threw himself into the firefighting effort right away.

“I’ll help too! Someone give me water!”

A split second later, Sherlock also moved to help. He took a bucket of water from the man closest to him — but the moment he saw his face, he stopped.

“……Gregson?” [1]

The man — Assistant Inspector Gregson — widened his eyes in shock.

“Holmes! You bastard — why’re you here?!”

As a famous detective, Sherlock often disregarded the police when solving his cases; Gregson could never stand the sight of him, and so it was no wonder he’d raised his voice. However, having grown accustomed to that enmity, Sherlock spoke quickly in response.

“Lestrade called me in himself. Anyway, were you the one sent to secure the other fugitive?”

Gregson waved the question away, as if he was in a terrible gloom.

“Dammit, quit yammering! Let’s talk about the details later! Our priority now’s to put out the fire!”

Saying that, he rushed off to draw more water. It was a reasonable point, so Sherlock refrained from pursuing the matter. Still, he found Gregson’s unusually impatient manner strange.

The quick arrest of the first fugitive. The burning building. And Assistant Inspector Gregson.

From all the elements that had presented themselves at this stage, Sherlock Holmes was certain that this case would be a tough one.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Roughly five hours after Sherlock and Lestrade arrived at the scene, the fire had finally been extinguished.

Having given their all in putting out the fire, the volunteer firefighters were now sitting on the roads as they caught their breath. But the building had been reduced to nothing more than a charred skeleton — it had completely burnt down. A heap of blackened wood lay on the ground where it once stood; within it, tiny embers still smouldered away, and thin trails of smoke wafted into the air. It was still too dangerous to enter the site, but as a small blessing amidst this misfortune, the adjacent buildings had been left largely unscathed, with only their outer walls scorched by the flames.

“……It feels like one job’s been completed, but the real work starts here, huh.”

A worn-out Sherlock muttered to himself, having already shed his jacket. Then, the familiar voice of his partner rang out in his mind.

“Sherlock. Isn’t it too convenient for a fire to break out at this time? If the fugitive they were interrogating had been caught in the blaze……”

——I know. But first, let’s remain calm, and listen to what they have to say.

He answered John in his heart, then walked over to Lestrade, who was conferring with another officer a short distance away. It seemed he was in the middle of asking the other officer what had happened.

“O—y, Lestrade. Did you find anything useful?”

“Yeah: it seems it’s going to be a while before we can inspect the scene, but from my subordinate’s report, I’ve gotten the details of what happened before this. I’ll explain.”

Saying that, Lestrade began to narrate the sequence of events, and Sherlock listened in silence.

From what he’d heard from his subordinate, the building was a cheap old three-storey inn built from wood. After searching the interior based on the tip-off, they quickly found and arrested one of the fugitives. After which, in order to find the location of the other criminal, they immediately brought the arrested man to a room and began to interrogate him.

“Where’s the room located?”

Sherlock cut in, and Lestrade looked up at the spot where the room had likely once stood.

“It was at the end of the second floor — the one the man himself had rented. Each floor had three rooms: taking the ground floor as an example, the room numbers had been assigned as 101, 102 and 103. ” [2]

“So the one at the end of the second floor would be number 303. Did all the officers storm the room together?”

“No; out of the ten men who arrived first, five of them entered the building while the other five stood by in the vicinity. Among the five who entered, two were questioning the man in room 303, one stood watch outside the room, while the remaining two stood in the ground and first floor corridors respectively, observing the movements of the guests in the inn.”

Listening to the breakdown of the officers’ positions, Sherlock looked at the ruins of the building as they lay heaped on the ground.

“If the building was only this large, leaving five people outside would be enough…… But why have men stationed on each floor at the corridors?”

“The other fugitive might’ve been hiding in the building, so they wanted to interview the guests and ascertain their backgrounds. However, it seems the innkeeper detests the Yard: they allowed us to question the fugitive, but refused to let us to visit the other rooms, insisting it would bother the guests. So the officers had no choice but to quietly stand watch in the corridors.”

Having realised yet again the animosity in the slums towards the police, Lestrade sighed, and Sherlock nodded in reply.

“From the start, the source of the information had been an anonymous tip-off, which is　suspicious. The story up to that point was that the police arrived here half in doubt, then actually found the criminal — from that alone, it would’ve been difficult to insist on advancing the investigation any further.”

Sherlock understood the bind the officers had found themselves in back then. He continued.

“During the interrogation, they did check everyone who entered and left the inn, didn’t they?”

“Of course. But I didn’t receive any reports about any suspicious characters.”

“Okay. I’ve got the deployment of the officers at the time; please continue.”

The arrested fugitive had been surprisingly stubborn, and refused to utter a word about the other man’s whereabouts. At that rate, the officers had judged that they were getting nowhere, and left the room for a short break. Their strategy had been to give the man time to relax, then force him into a state of tension once again, in order to strain his mental state.

In addition, by this time, the locals had gotten wind of the Yard’s presence. They’d begun to gather around the inn and create a commotion: the atmosphere had turned bleak. In order to avoid the situation escalating into a riot, out of the five officers in the building, four went outside to appeal to them to remain calm.

Just like this, the fugitive had been left alone in the room. The man had been made to sit in a wooden chair that had been furnished as part of the room, with each of his hands cuffed to the chair’s armrests. The only entry point to the room — the door — had one officer standing guard in front of it. Moreover, even if he were to leave by the window opposite the door, as the room was on the second floor, he couldn’t simply escape by jumping out. With these conditions in place, the officers had thought that there was no chance of him escaping.

——In fact, that line of thought had held true. The criminal had not escaped; rather, he had been murdered inside the room.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Five minutes after their break had started. In the vicinity of the inn, something odd had arisen. Complaints and jeers had suddenly turned into shrieks and screams. The lone police officer who’d remained in the building thought it strange, and immediately after, someone yelled “Fire!”.

He went downstairs to see for himself: true enough, flames were rising up from the ground floor. The officer rushed to spread the word to everyone in the building, directing them to evacuate. Of course, he then went to release the man handcuffed in room 303, but the door couldn’t open: it had been locked from the inside.

At this point, Sherlock placed a hand under his chin as he muttered.

“If he had been bound to a chair, then even with his hands cuffed to the armrests, he would still be able to move around the room. If it’d been a bed, depending on the size of it, he might still be able to move. The man could’ve locked the door from the inside, but…… By the way, was it really locked? And not that the door had been warped and gotten stuck, or something?”

“It seems that much was certain: I understood he tried many times, but found the door locked from within.”

“I see. Sorry, I’ve been interrupting you quite a bit.”

“No, I don’t mind……. After that, the officer peeked into the room via the keyhole. And then, inside the room, he saw something he would never have imagined.”

From Lestrade’s tone, Sherlock was fairly certain what had happened in there.

“The room was locked from the inside, and the man lay dead within it……?”

It seemed his prediction had been spot on: startled, Lestrade stared at him, then muttered “Yeah” in a sombre tone as he continued.

——From the keyhole, the officer saw the man lying prone on the floor while still cuffed to the chair. His back had been soaked in a red substance akin to blood, and he showed absolutely no sign of movement. Amidst the commotion from the fire, it was as if time had stood still for him alone.

Panicked, the officer rammed the door in a bid to break it down. But no matter how many times he slammed himself against it, the door merely creaked, showing no signs of opening. Apparently, the innkeeper had taken precautions to prevent the police from entering the rooms without their permission — it seemed the doors had been robustly built. Making matters worse, his fellow officers were desperately engaged in fighting the fire, as well as evacuating the surrounding residents: they had no leeway to come to the second floor and help.

After that, the officer kept trying to break the door open. But the fire swept through the wooden building, and soon, the flames had reached the floor right beneath him. Inside the room, the man remained motionless. After a further struggle, the police officer gave up on rescuing him, and ensured that there was no one else left in the building as he made his escape.

That was the gist of how the inn had been burnt to the ground.

“…………”

A sudden fire. A room with its door firmly shut. And a man who’d collapsed in a prone position.

Having listened till the end of the story, Sherlock replayed the situation back then in his head. In his heart, he cracked a wry smile.

The search for a fugitive had turned into a locked-room case.

T/N: It’s a proper mystery this time!! I quite like this one :3

Footnotes:

[1] Gregson first appeared in Chapter 8 (“A Study in ‘S’, Act 2") after Lestrade arrested Sherlock on suspicion of Count Drebber’s murder. This is his first panel:

(Taken from the official translation of Volume 2)

[2] Similar to Story 1, I’ll be using the British way of referring to building levels (i.e. ground floor, first floor, second floor).

[fanficteen]

gone (4)

tw: implied/referenced self harm, self-destructive behaviours & tendencies, references to canonical suicidal tendencies

“I need you to drop the illusion.” Carlisle’s hand was cool on your cheek, golden eyes pleading with yours, even as you stiffened. “I know I can’t ask you to trust me, but at least trust my medical degree. I need to make sure they’re not infected.” There was no way out of this, except to set your jaw and let the glamour drop. Carlisle whispered thanks, resisted the urge to say anything further as he cleaned the wounds up your arms, in various states of healing. “I’m sorry.” You didn’t owe him an apology. “You don’t need to be.” A bandage swept up each wrist as he released them, finally meeting your eyes again. “I let you down.”  You resisted the urge to comfort him with false assurances that he hadn’t, that it didn’t matter, that he was here now. “I won’t let it happen again.” You wondered if you were naive for starting to believe him.

You came home to a house in chaos, Billy’s sad eyes meeting yours from the middle of Jacob and Rachel’s screaming match, Paul growling at Jacob over Rachel’s shoulder. “HEY!” Your voice cut them both off and the whole pack’s eyes turned to you. “What the hell is going on?” “(Y/N)!” Rachel was on you in a moment, beating her werewolf brother to the punch. “Are you ok? I came by the house but Bella told me you were fine and sent me home.” “I’m fine,” you soothed, grasping her hands. “Just had a few things to sort out.” “So you’re going crawling back to him, huh?” Jacob challenged, surly. “After everything he did?” “We’ll see,” you answered, steadily, determined not to match his anger. “I’m still researching. Even if he keeps this promise, I don’t want to know I have to rely on him.” He grunted some kind of disapproval, but let it go. “The doctor fixed you up?” Billy confirmed, a rough nod at your wrapped wrists, face calm around his storming eyes. You nodded, not trusting your voice. “What?” Jacob’s confused eyes shot to your wrists, the emotions his father hid in his eyes warring for primacy on Jacob’s younger face. “What happened?” You flicked your eyes away from him, only to be caught by Sam’s sorrowful gaze. “Jake–“ “Did he hurt you?!” “No, it’s not like that,” you assured him, frantic. “Jacob,” Sam warned, lowly, but was ignored. “Then what is it like? Who the hell hurt you?!” Sam’s hand landed on his shoulder, trying to soothe the swirling tension. “I DID!” He wilted back into Sam’s grip, eyes wide and tearful, as you buried your face in your hands. “I did.” Billy caught you by the elbow before you could bolt, settling you on his lap in a warm embrace, just as he had done when you were a child, large calloused hands clutching you to him as you sobbed. “It’s time we left,” Sam commented, distantly. “Paul, you too.” Even Rachel’s hotheaded mate didn’t complain at the command, leaving Jacob and Rachel alone to stare at you, aghast, still curled up to your surrogate father’s chest.

Eventually, you unfurled to explain yourself, swiping at the tear tracks sticky on your cheeks as you spoke. Spoke of the pulsing pain of an absent soul bond, of the darker magics you could unlock with only your blood and breath to command it. Of the stinging clarity seeping from open wounds. Jacob’s face hardened into silent stone, and you watched him sink away from you. “I need to go–“ “No!” Hard, dark eyes turned to you. “I can’t be around you–“ “I’ll go.” You stood and grabbed the jacket and handbag you’d discarded by the door. “I’ll be back in a couple of days.” “Running back to your vampire?” Jacob sneered, ignoring Billy’s firm scolding. You didn’t deign to respond, just stepped out the door and slipped away into the woods. Chilled darkness blanketed around you, heavy on your shoulders, but familiar. The woods breathed a peace that you had missed from your time upriver – no vampires, no humans, no shifters. Just… nature. Unaltered. Footsteps approached behind you, hot-blooded heartbeat fitting the hand that landed on your shoulder, that pulled you into a warm body. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Sam’s voice spoke of sorrow and understanding, of scars too fresh for either of you to be comfortable. You sniffled into his chest. “You can come home with me, or I can take you to your imprint, or–“ “Alice.” Why her name was the first to tumble from your lips, you weren’t sure, but the pixie-like girl swam starlight in your mind’s eye – promises of safety, of honest truth. “I’ll call Alice.” Sam nodded, letting you fumble for your phone. “Alright, we’ll head in that direction while you call her.” His warm arm never left your shoulders as he turned you around, setting off towards the clearing around the Cullens’ home.

You woke the next morning to a cup of steaming tea placed on the bedside table, as Alice took a seat on the bed beside you, offering you a soft smile. Just like the night before, you appreciated the quiet, the lack of questioning – she had opened the door as you murmured your gratitude to Sam, who had given Alice a begrudging nod as he disappeared back into the treeline. You were drawn out of your memory when Alice pulled you close and you let yourself melt into the cool familiarity of her arm draped around you. “How are you feeling, sweetie?” You hummed, closing your hands around your mug as you thought. “I don’t know,” you admitted, eventually. Alice turned her palm over, a wordless invitation, and you placed your hand in hers, letting pain fear anger hurt fear fear love love love burn through the temporary bond. Alice didn’t flinch away, didn’t give any indication that she felt it, her than her fingers intertwining with yours, her other hand combing through your hair. “I just don’t know who I can trust anymore. It’s like… every anchor I had was ripped away and even when the storm clears, it’s not going to carry me back to familiar waters or fix my broken masts.” Your eyes dropped to your bandaged arms. “I’m not even sure they can be fixed. Maybe I’m already a wreck and I’m just waiting for the water to drown me.” “You’re not.” Firm, sure, Alice’s words held every bit of the determination you’d come to know from her. “You’re not broken, you’re not a wreck, and you’re not alone. I know – I know we hurt you, but we’re here now. From now on, we’re here whenever you need us, whatever you need us for. And I know that Billy and even Sam will be too, even if we don’t get along with them. You’re important to both of us, so we’ll make it work.” Protests and disagreements stung on the tip of your tongue, shattered trust and hurt and fear, but Alice’s hands were steady and so was her voice, as she promised she was here. As she promised she wasn’t going anywhere. You didn’t realise you’d lost your shields until an artificial kind of calm washed over you, Jasper padding silently into the room. “Be gentle with yourself,” he requested, quietly, dropping at Alice’s side, golden eyes soft and warm, despite his ice-cold skin. You let his calm steady you, before you began to build your walls back up, closing off their powers.

“Thank you.” Alice smiled at your quiet words, Jasper simply inclining his head in quiet acknowledgement. “Bella’s making waffles,” Alice prompted, after you finished composing yourself, jigsaw puzzle pieces falling into place again. “You wanna shower and come down?” “I don’t have any clothes.” Alice paused. Her clothes wouldn’t fit you, but… “You’re welcome to borrow some of Carlisle’s clothes.” Perhaps, the scent of your soulmate would help soothe you, as well, despite his role in the fragile cracks of your heart. “He’s at the hospital at the moment, so you can use his bathroom and get changed in his room, if you’d like. He should be back soon. But if you’re not comfortable with that, I’m sure you can borrow one of the other guys’ clothes, or someone can duck over to–“ “Are you sure that’s okay?” Alice’s eyes softened. “Of course it is. Carlisle won’t mind one bit, so long as you’re safe and happy… or as close as you can be.”

You stepped out of the warm water feeling a little more like a person, and pulled on the first of Carlisle’s shirts that you found, a button up that draped comfortably down to your knees. Once your hair was dry enough not to soak the shirt, you hung up the towel Alice had lent you and headed downstairs towards the quiet chatter in the living room. Edward was draped over Bella’s shoulders as she cooked, Esme watching fondly as Alice and Emmett bantered over who was really Mr Johnson’s favourite, Rosalie rolling her eyes at them from where she leaned into Emmett’s side. Jasper offered you a gentle smile as you entered and you returned it, only to freeze in place as a familiar head of blond hair poked out of the pantry, which had been stocked with some more human-friendly foods since their return and Bella’s regular presence. “I knew we had maple syrup!” he announced, holding the bottle up victoriously. “Great. (Y/N), what do you want on your waffles?” Bella shot the query over her shoulder as she finished plating up the waffles and turned to plop a plate in front of you. Your tongue tumbled over itself before you managed to sputter a response, earning yourself a concerned look from most of the room. “We’ll leave you two to eat,” Esme decided, ushering the vampires out of the kitchen. Apparently, no matter how good your shields were, you still had an expressive face. Bella leaned against the counter across from you, chewing her waffles and examining you thoughtfully. “Do I need to punch Jacob, or someone else?” she asked, eventually, and you smiled, sombrely, though the effect was ruined a little by the mouthful of waffles bulging your cheeks. “I don’t know who I’m most angry at, so I’ll give you a pass on the punching for the moment.” She laughed, and for a moment things were almost normal. Almost. “What are we doing here?” Bella blinked up at your sudden question. “…eating waffles.” “Yeah, but why are we here, eating waffles, with the people who abandoned us? Why can’t I still be angry? I’m still hurting, like every time I see him the wounds reopen but he’s the only one who can stitch them up and I just don’t get it! Why was it so easy for them to leave us, but we can’t ever stay away?” You were crying now, and Bella offered her shoulder before you ruined your waffles, soft circles running along your shoulders. “It wasn’t easy for them to leave us. And it wasn’t easy for any of us to come back. But… this is where we’re meant to be. No matter what happens now, we all belong together. We can heal together.” She pulled back, brushing tears from your perpetually stained cheeks, and offered a soft smile. “I know they fucked up. I know we fucked up. But… we can do better.”

a/n: sorry for the wait y’all, have some platonic bonding

@mylovelyjoon @kyrah-williams @crazycookiecrumbles @mangoberry43 @misselsbells06

[notthatiwilleverwriteit]

When the front door swung open and Ugetsu found himself face to face with a short-haired blonde not-Mafuyu, two thoughts immediately entered his head. First, despite Mafuyu’s directions and the note on the door, he must have accidentally come to the wrong place.

The second thought – swiftly following its forerunner – was a cold shower of recognition that froze him in place and dropped the bottom of his stomach.

“Oh”, a soft sound escaped him before he could trap it inside.

It seemed the blonde man had arrived at the same discovery as him. Gaping at him slightly and his amber eye wide as saucers, he stood in the doorway.

Ugetsu wanted to flee. As soon as possible, by any means necessary. An earthquake. A meteor. A secret trapdoor under his feet.

No, he thought, I can’t look back. If I look back, I’m lost.

“Uhh…,” the blonde man said, emerging from his stupor fist, “ahh, you must be – ”

“Yes, hi,” Ugetsu interrupted him. “I’m here to drop off Mafuyu’s present.”

He held out a white rustling paper bag with I ❤️ NY printed on the side. The man glanced at it but wouldn’t reach for it.

“He told me to come here.”

Mafuyu invited Ugetsu to his birthday party. Only he failed to mention the part about a party. Ugetsu found out just in time when a familiar-looking blonde man opened the front door. Social awkwardness and chaos ensue.

Takes place after the Ugetsu extra booklet that was released with the Blueray of the movie.

Ugetsu blinked at the note taped on the front door looming in front of him. A party? Mafuyu hadn’t mentioned anything about a party when he had asked Ugetsu to come over.

Stiffly, he stood in the unfamiliar staircase and listened for any party-related noises from the apartment. But his only answer was the background humming of the hallway. Hesitant, he toyed with the idea of texting Mafuyu some excuse. He could always give his birthday present some other time.

Before he let the temptation get too big, he pressed the doorbell and a sharp buzz rang in the apartment. He had made a promise, after all.

Perhaps, with any luck, he had arrived before the party.

When the front door swung open and Ugetsu found himself face to face with a short-haired blonde not-Mafuyu, two thoughts immediately entered his head. First, despite Mafuyu’s directions and the note on the door, he must have accidentally come to the wrong place.

The second thought – swiftly following its forerunner – was a cold shower of recognition that froze him in place and dropped the bottom of his stomach.

“Oh”, a soft sound escaped him before he could trap it inside.

It seemed the blonde man had arrived at the same discovery as him. Gaping at him slightly and his amber eye wide as saucers, he stood in the doorway.

Ugetsu wanted to flee. As soon as possible, by any means necessary. An earthquake. A meteor. A secret trapdoor under his feet.

No, he thought, I can’t look back. If I look back, I’m lost.

“Uhh…,” the blonde man said, emerging from his stupor fist, “ahh, you must be – ”

“Yes, hi,” Ugetsu interrupted him. “I’m here to drop off Mafuyu’s present.”

He held out a white rustling paper bag with I ❤️ NY printed on the side. The man glanced at it but wouldn’t reach for it.

“He told me to come here.”

Don’t look back. This was his trial by fire. He had taken a fourteen-thousand-mile trip to another continent to not look back.

“Haruki,” a familiar deep voice carried from behind the blonde man, “who is it? If it’s the neighbors, I already told them to – “

Akihiko’s face appeared over the man’s shoulder. Under other circumstances, Ugetsu would have laughed at how his eyes widened and mouth slacked open. Under circumstances that didn’t involve Akihiko’s arm casually around someone else’s waist.

Haruki.

So, that was his name. A soft name for a soft face.

“Anyway,” Ugetsu said, feeling how his words cut the thick air, “here.”

Again, he nudged the paper bag towards his audience, now doubled in volume and social discomfort.

“It’s for Mafuyu. I have to get going, my ride is waiting downstairs.”

There was no ride other than his own car, but no one needed to know that.  

Akihiko looked at the gift bag dangling in Ugetsu’s outstretched hand like it was a foreign object from outer space. Ugetsu wanted to exclaim at the stupid look on his face.

Please, just someone take this damn thing and let me go.

Forces of nature. Astronomic events. Mr. Secret Trapdoor Handler.

If he had to stand here for much longer, he would look back. That night. The hand leaving his. The invisible vines strangling him and blurrying his vision.

“It’s alright.”

Ugetsu looked up at the blonde man’s – Haruki’s – gentle voice, just now realizing his gaze had slid to stare at the linoleum floor. Haruki gave him a small smile and pushed Akihiko’s arm off around his waist.

“You should join us. I’m sure Mafu-chan has been waiting for you.”

“It’s fine, really. My ride…”

The smile softened when it reached the amber eyes. There was something about it that unexpectedly loosened the squeeze around Ugetsu’s chest a little.

“At least have some cake and drinks. There’s plenty.”

Ugetsu glanced at Akihiko. All he received was s shrug of shoulders.

“Then,” he said, squeezing the handle of the gift bag, “I guess, for a moment.”

The heavy front door clanked shut behind his back, sealing him in comfortable homely warmth. Distant chatter carried from the apartment. The entryway had been nearly overtaken by a messy assortment of shoes. Most of them looked like something high schoolers would wear. Stiffly, Ugetsu toed off his pair and tried to leave them somewhat neatly on the edge of the chaos.

“Sorry, we’re out of slippers,” Haruki said with an apologetic smile. “And it’s a bit messy everywhere with the kids around.”

“No, it’s – “

Ugetsu loathed the hesitance in his voice. He cleared his throat and straightened up.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

Akihiko snorted.

“You could say that again. Really, you should see this guy’s place.”

His jibe was rewarded with a frown from Haruki.

“Come on now,” he said and shooed Akihiko along the hallway, “you were supposed to help the kids with the karaoke machine.”

Ugetsu stifled a cringe.

“You better keep the microphone away from Akihiko. I doubt his vocals have improved since high school.”

The annoyed glare Akihiko threw at him restored some of the lost confidence in Ugetsu. He still got it.

The apartment looked like a color bomb had gone off. Bundles of bright balloons floated from the ceiling. Strips of colorful streamers dangled off the furniture. Hanging over the window was a big pastel banner that screamed HAPPY BIRTHDAY at Ugetsu’s face.

“Mafu-chan,” Haruki said, “there was someone looking for you at the door.”

The buzz of the conversation died down, and a crowd of curious gazes was glued to him. Mafuyu’s eyes widened.

“Ugetsu-san,” he said, his whole being visibly brightening, “you could make it.”

Ugetsu found himself smiling.

“Yes, despite your vague directions. You almost missed your present and souvenirs from the Big Apple.”

He handed the gift bag for the umpteenth time. He could almost see the small stars glittering around Mafuyu’s face when he cradled it in his arms.

“Thank you, Ugetsu-san.”

Compared to his entrance at the door, his debut in the living room was mercifully less stress-inducing. A small herd of teenagers was sitting on the sofa and crowding around the coffee table.

Ugetsu relaxed his shoulders and let a cloak of practiced calm settle over himself. One-on-one audiences were one thing but crowds he could handle.

“Uh, well, then,” Haruki said, looking around the room. “You need a seat! It’s a bit crowded, but – ”

Suddenly the concentration of people stirred into an awkward shuffle. The couch was cleared vacant except for one boy with dark hair that curled slightly at the tips. Silently he dragged himself to the corner of the sofa, leaving the opposite end for Ugetsu to reign over.

The rest of the kids settled on the floor in a half-circle. One of them – a boy with a poor dye-job that reminded Ugetsu of pudding – kept shamelessly staring at him.

“What would you like to drink?” Haruki chimed. “We have sodas and coffee. And tea. And water too, of course. And – though I’m not sure if it’s really…I think we have some beer, too, if you prefer something more…”

“Coffee is fine,” Ugetsu cut in, taking pity on him. “Preferably with Jim Beam, but I’m fine with black too if you’re fresh out of bourbon.”

Visibly relieved with a task at hand, Haruki gave a nervous-sounding little laugh and headed to the kitchen. Ugetsu wondered if he was silently regretting inviting him in already.

“I’ll get the cake,” Akihiko said and followed suit. “Might as well cut it now that everyone is here.”

And so Ugetsu was left in the midst of teenagers. Mafuyu seemed to have floated off somewhere in his thoughts and was absentmindedly tracing the I ❤️ NY slogan on the paper bag. Next to him was another dark-haired boy. He kept casting quick glares between Ugetsu and the surface of the coffee table. Ugetsu noticed he had strikingly blue eyes.

“So,” Pudding Head broke the silence, “who are you?”

Amused, Ugetsu arched his eyebrows at the tone that seemed to pay no heed to the fact that Ugetsu was older than him. He liked the kid already.

“I’m a friend of Mafuyu’s.”

The kid tilted his head in appraising.

“He’s never mentioned you, though.”

Ugetsu smiled.

“Oh? I was about to say the same about you.”

Mafuyu stirred back to the present and looked up from his gift.

“Ugetsu-san is a violinist,” he said as if that explained what was needed.

Pudding Head’s eyes widened.

“Violin? Like Beethoven and stuff?”

“Yes,” Ugetsu said, a bit coldly, “and stuff.”

“Are you any good?” Pudding Head asked.

Before Ugetsu could deliver a well-edged reply, Mafuyu beat him to it.

“Ugetsu-san just won a big competition in Russia. What was the – ” he trailed off, and the dreamy look returned to his eyes.

“Tchaikovsky,” Ugetsu filled in, glancing at Pudding Head for good measure, “and stuff.”

The kid leaned forward. His lively eyes were now gauging him with new intensity. Even Baby Blues had decided he was more interesting than the coffee table. Broodylocks seemed the only one not phased but was listening on silently.

“We’re on a band together,” Pudding Head went on and nodded at Broodylocks next to Ugetsu. “Me and Shizu-chan – ah, Shizusumi.”

Ugetsu glanced at the brooding boy. Yes, he definitely looked like a Shizu-chan.

“Uenoyama is helping out, too. A little. For a while.”

Baby Blues nodded solemnly. Ugetsu suddenly realized he remembered him from the live shows. So, this was the genius kid that Akihiko had sometimes talked about. Besides Mafuyu, of course, he added silently in his head.

“So,” Ugetsu asked, “are you any good?”

It seemed the question pleased Pudding Head. Gearing up to boast, he folded his arms and grinned confidently.

“We won a big competition, too, just recently. And we have a music video coming. And a big gig.”

The confident grin sharpened into a more challenging one as the kid tilted his head back and ever so slightly looked down on Ugetsu.

“You should come and see us.”

“We got an offer from a record company, too,” Uenoayama said, frowning at Pudding Head before going back to glaring at the coffee table. “But we’re still thinking about it.”

Pudding Head huffed and rolled his eyes.

“You better not keep them waiting for too long, you know. You’re not that special.”

The other boy stiffened visibly. He whipped his glare on full force at Pudding Head who – to his credit, Ugetsu had to admit – didn’t even flinch.

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion!”

Pudding Head’s grin turned almost predatory.

“That’s not how I remember it. Oh, Hiiragi what should I do?” he said, mockingly exaggerating a troubled tone and gestures. “Hiiragi, how do you know? Hiiragi, I’m so confused! Hiiragi, how are you so good at this?”

“I never you said you were good!”

Ugetsu made a mental note of Pudding Head’s name, Hiiragi, and tuned out the bickering. It sounded like it was merely just starting. His gaze roamed the apartment.

The wooden paneling and floorboards made him feel like he was enclosed in a homely nest. A chestnut, he thought absently. This is what a nest made out of chestnut would be like. The overall atmosphere was very – he searched for a suitable word – approachable. The room breathed. Nurtured. Everything seemed cared for, and they radiated that same energy back.

It certainly fit someone called Haruki.

So, this is where Akihiko had stayed back then, Ugetsu thought, quite not able to keep a note of bitterness at bay. No wonder.

No, don’t look back. You will get lost.

“Haruki, does this need more oomph?”

Akihiko’s voice caught Ugetsu’s ear from the kitchen. Instinctively, his gaze followed.

Don’t look. If I look –

The two of them were standing side by side at the counter. Akihiko was holding out a spoonful of dip. A bit taken aback, Haruki tasted carefully before nodding his approval. Akihiko grinned and swiped at the corner of Haruki’s mouth with his thumb.

– lost, I will get…lost.

Unable to take his eyes off, Ugetsu watched Akihiko’s arm find its way around Haruki’s waist again. Blushing, Haruki brushed a strand of blond hair behind his ear. He was saying something Ugetsu couldn’t make out.

“Ugetsu-san?”

Mafuyu’s voice snapped him back. The bickering around the coffee table had quieted, and everyone was looking at him. Mafuyu studied him closely.

“Hmm? What?”

“I asked if you found the record store you talked about in New York?”

“Ahh, that, yes.”

“Who buys records anymore?” Hiiragi said. “Just download an app.”

“If I ever want to fill my head with bubblegum instead of music with soul, I’ll be sure to ask for your app recommendations.”

Hiiragi bristled.

“What?!”

“Oi, let’s cut the cake!” Akihiko called from the kitchen.

Hiiragi threw Ugetsu a death glare, but Shizusumi led him away by the shoulders.

The kids crowded the dining table that was groaning with all kinds of snacks and treats. Chips and dips, gummy bears, sour candies, small sausage rolls, soda bottles. In the middle of it all, laid a square cake like a great whipped cream island topped with diced fruit.

Wisely Haruki and Akihiko took over the distribution of cake. Ugetsu heard Mafuyu say he preferred a corner piece because it had the most whipped cream.

After that, things started to get exceedingly out of control.

Ugetsu caught Akihiko’s wicked grin which turned out to be the one and only warning. But by then, it was already too late. With a shift swipe, Mafuyu’s precious corner piece came down in his face with a faint smack.

The whole room fell silent. Haruki froze in a horrified grimace. Uenoyama’s blue eyes widened comically. Hiiragi looked both surprised and impressed. The only one who once again didn’t seem phased was Shizusumi who was calmly forking down his own piece of the cake in the background.  

“Happy birthday, kid,” Akihiko said.

He clapped Mafuyu’s shoulder briskly, and a small piece of cake dropped off on Mafuyu’s hoodie. Ugetsu pursed his lips to keep from laughing. Eerily silent, Mafuyu scooped off some of the whipped cream covering his eyes.  

Akihiko’s grin faltered a little.

“Oi, Mafuyu, you want a napkin or – “

Splat.

Akihiko froze mid-sentence when Mafuyu mushed a handful of cream over his face. Ugetsu nearly chewed through his tongue to hold back his snort of laughter. Mafuyu didn’t seem to think such niceties were needed. He threw his head back in open-mouthed, whipped cream laughter that rang bright and sweet in the room.

Gradually, Akihiko’s whipped cream mask begun to quiver. Carefully he blinked. His tongue darted out to swipe at the fluffy smears.

“Good aim,” he said, a grin in his voice.

Haruki finally stirred from his wide-eyed horror and sprung to action. He snatched a roll of paper towels and started to hand out thick tufts.

“Honestly,” he said, frowning but not really sounding angry, “do that in someone else’s kitchen, both of you. Here, Mafu-chan, let me help you, you’ve got some in your – Akihiko, stop eating it off your face, use a napkin!”

Carefully, Haruki wiped Mafuyu’s face, holding him still by the chin to keep from making the mess any worse. Akihiko was scrubbing his face with a handful of napkins. Hiiragi and Uenoyama seemed to be edging to an argument again. In the background, Shizusumi was quietly carving himself a second chunk of the cake.

Ugetsu watched the chaos unfold from the sofa, wondering if this would be an appropriate gap for him to go on his way.

“You like the corner piece, too, right?”

A shadow was suddenly looming over him.

Akihiko stood there holding two cups of coffee and balancing plates loaded with cake on top of them. Gingerly he landed the dishes on the coffee table and sat next to Ugetsu. He caught a waft of the familiar aftershave.

Don’t look back. If I look back, I’m lost.

He cradled the steaming mug in both hands. Wafts of the strong aroma tickled his nose. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Akihiko fiddling with his cup, his fingers tapping lightly against the ceramic.

“Thanks for coming,” Akihiko broke the silence first. “Mafuyu kept checking his phone the whole night. I had a feeling it was you.”

Ugetsu hummed down at the dark surface of his coffee. He was glad he had come, too. Truth be told, he had missed Mafuyu.

Rain and snow were never far removed from each other. Offsprings of two different seasons. It took water to understand another water.

“Someone needs to tell him that highway isn’t a direction.”

Akihiko chuckled and rested his coffee mug on his knee. A familiar habit Ugetsu recognized.

But he shouldn’t look back. He needed to stop tempting the path he had set for himself.

“So, how was it? New York.”

“Dirty, expensive, and rude.”

“Your kinda place, then.”

“Exactly.”

At the dining table, Hiiragi was explaining something while conducting his animated speech with a fork. Mafuyu still had smears of whipped cream in his hair. Haruki was carving him a new piece of cake from the corner.

“So,” Ugetsu said, “he seems nice. The gentle and pure type.”

The topic made his heart pound in his chest. What was he doing? He didn’t want to talk about this, about him. He wasn’t supposed to be looking back.

Akihiko’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed a mouthful of coffee. The mug came to rest on his knee again. His thumb smoothed the arch of the handle.

“He is.”

“Do you love him?”

The question was out before Ugetsu could shove it back down his throat, and he silently cursed at himself. But Akihiko didn’t flinch at his frankness. For a while, he just quietly looked at Haruki fuss in the middle of the kids.

“I do,” he finally replied.

Ugetsu glanced at him. He noticed there was a smudge of cream under his chin that had gone unnoticed.

“Good.”

The coffee was strong and scalding when he took a careful sip. Just the way he liked it.

“What about you?

“Hm? Oh, I don’t think Haru-chan and I are there yet. We just met.”

Akihiko rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m too busy for love,” Ugetsu said with a dramatic sigh. “I barely have room in my calendar for an occasional beau.”

Akihiko frowned at him, mid-sip.

“What happened to Mr. Viola?”

Ugetsu had broken things off with the violist before the competition in Russia. The guy hadn’t been exactly surprised or even argued for staying together. He supposed not returning any calls or messages for two weeks put a wet blanket on romance.

“He said that my Tchaikovsky sounded pitchy. There’s no way I would let the guy in my bed on the back of something like that.”

“Naturally.”

Akihiko kept fiddling with his mug, his eyes cast on the coffee table. Ugetsu realized he was a furniture-glarer, too. Like Baby Blues.

“Just,” he said to the table, “don’t go off some deep end on your own. Or something. I know how you can get.”

For a moment, Ugetsu was taken aback. He hadn’t expected this.

“Me?” he said, mustering up a lilt. “I have competitions to win. I’ve also been wondering about remodeling the basement. Or maybe even get a new place. Or a houseplant, I haven’t decided which one yet.”

When wouldn’t raise to the tease, Ugetsu let the jest fade. He knew he was full of it, too. With a sigh, he looked down at his coffee, realizing he seemed to be of the same cloth as the furniture-glarers. He wondered if mug-starers were a rare species.

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch up to you on the being happy department. Just you see.”

Akihiko’s look softened, and the corner of his mouth curved into a small smile. It reminded Ugetsu of a certain autumn park years ago. Similar but not quite the same.

“Good.”

Uncharacteristically not finding anything witty for a comeback, Ugetsu fumbled for the plate of cake. His fork sunk into the soft pastry as he tore off a piece, covered almost entirely in thick whipped cream. Moist sweetness burst on his palette. Small surprises of fruit and berries popped off on his tongue.

“I saw your competition a while back. Fourth place?”

“Shut up. I was just a bit rusty.”

“A bit? It sounded more like you had suddenly forgotten your middle finger existed.”

With irked vigor, Akihiko stabbed his slice of cake.

“Your trap could stop existing sometimes.”

“But it did remind me of your Brahms,” Ugetsu went on, pondering. “From high school. It sounded like you had actually thought it through.”

“Gee, thanks,” Akihiko grunted around his mouthful of cake, “nice to hear it didn’t sound like I was just swinging it.”

“But the solo was shaky at best. If you don’t do something about that bowing, then you better get comfortable at the fourth place.”

Just as Akihiko was about to let Ugetsu know, in no uncertain terms, where he could shove his bow, the kids started drifting back from the kitchen. They sprinkled around the coffee table with various snack-souvenirs. Shizusumi reclaimed his old spot at the deep corner end of the sofa.

Haruki cast an unreadable glance at Ugetsu and Akihiko sitting next to each other but went quickly back to hosting.

“Why don’t we open your presents next, Mafu-chan?”

A small stack of various gifts appeared in front of Mafuyu on the coffee table.

“Ours first!” Hiiragi declared and shoved a medium-sized rectangle gift at Mafuyu. “It’s from Shizu-chan and me.”

Shizusumi stirred in the corner.

“Happy birthday,” he said.

Ugetsu realized this was the first time he heard him talk.

They had gotten Mafuyu a pair of new headphones. Ugetsu recognized the brand; it was the latest, top-of-the-line model. He had been eyeing them not long ago, too.

Mafuyu frowned.

“I thought you said you were going to buy these for yourself?”

“You need them more,” Hiiragi said with a shrug. “It’s time you upgrade already.”

Mafuyu traced the plastic window of the package.

“Hmm.”

“What? You don’t like them?”

“No, it’s not that…I was just wondering if they sold these in blue.”

“I told you,” Shizusumi said.

“What’s wrong with orange?!” Hiiragi roared.

“We went through all the stores down the station. Blues were out of stock everywhere.”

Mafuyu blinked at them before flashing one of his soft Mafuyu-smiles.

“Actually,” he said, “I think I like the orange better. Thank you, Hiiragi, Shizu-chan.”

“Mine next,” Uenoyama cut in and lifted the biggest gift out of the pile.

Judging by the shape, it looked like a book. Only it was the size of a pillowcase and seemed to weigh a small housecat. Mafuyu tore the wrapping and peeled out a colorful, shining book cover. The Greatest Guitarists of All Time. CD-edition. A selection of notes with instructions included.

Mafuyu blinked at the heavy tome, his eyes shining.

“Uenoyama-kun,” he breathed out. “This…”

Abashed, Uenoayma frowned and glared at his old faithful, the coffee table.

“So you won’t have to keep borrowing mine,” he said. “Not that I mind, but you really should have your own.”

The brand-new binding creaked when Mafuyu lifted the thick cover and leafed through the shining pages with colorful pictures. Hungrily, his eyes scanned the instructional illustrations and bars of notes.

“Ohh,” Haruki said, peeking at the book. “I think this is the new improved edition. The previous one didn’t have the CDs. Be careful taking it home in the cold, Mafu-chan, so they won’t crack.”

There were three gifts left on the table. Ugetsu’s paper bag, a small soft-looking pastel package, and a blank white envelope. Haruki picked the neatly wrapped pastel present and offered it to Mafuyu.

“Mine isn’t as impressive,” he said, “but I hope you’ll like it.”

Gently, Mafuyu undid the strings that dug into the softness. A pair of colorful mittens emerged. For the most part, they were yellow but had stripes of orange, red, and blue laced in. On the back, there was a knitted white snowflake.

“You’re always bare-handed,” Haruki said. “It made me cold just looking at you.”

Mafuyu pulled the mittens on and admired them, wiggling his fingers inside.

“Thank you, Haruki-san. I’ll be sure to keep these away from Tama.”

The corner of Haruki’s mouth twitched, and he glanced at the mittens worriedly.

“Uh, yes, I’d appreciate that. Happy birthday.”

“I didn’t know you could knit.”

Ugetsu nearly flinched at Akihiko’s voice suddenly rumbling next to him.

Haruki shifted and kneaded the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Well, my grandma taught me and my sister. She always said that if you can do something yourself, you should.”

Akihiko leaned in to take a better look at the mittens that Mafuyu was helpfully showing off.

“You should knit something for me, too. I could use new gloves. And socks.”

“I want mine black,” Uenoyama piped in. “Or dark blue.”

“I’m not your knitting machine!” Haruki said. “Don’t just start placing orders.”

“Who’s this from?” Mafuyu said and clumsily picked the blank envelope.

“It’s mine,” Akihiko said.

“Such beautiful wrapping job,” Ugetsu snickered.

“It’s the thought that counts. And you’re one to talk with your paper bags.”

“It’s a gift bag. Not to mention a cultural reference.”

“It’s a printed logo on paper.”

“It’s one of a kind. Not everyone has a bag like that.”

“So, you’re telling me that’s not one of biggest New York cliches you could buy?”

“Just see which one will get chucked to the trash after this.”

“We recycle. That envelope is going to save the world. Your bag was probably made in some sweatshop in a jungle.”

“I won’t apologize for having a sense of style, unlike – “

“Ah!” Mafuyu exclaimed. “Now, I can buy the new pedal!”

Ugetsu’s eyes widened at what Mafuyu was holding up in his mittens. A gift card to a music shop. No, the music shop. He recognized the logo of the store.

In their first winter of going out, a couple of their classmates had cut the strings of Ugetsu’s violin. It had been the peak of torment after someone had seen them kissing in the music room. He still remembered how it had felt like a piece of himself had been violated.

The next Saturday, Akihiko had taken him to buy new strings to that store. After that, it had become Ugetsu’s go-to shop.

“I didn’t really know what to get you,” Akihiko said with a shrug. “So, I figured you could pick something for yourself.”

“Thank you, Kaji-san. Now, I can get the pedal that I wanted.”

Akihiko smiled and nodded.

“Good. Happy birthday.”

“Then,” Ugetsu said, “mine next.”

Curious, Mafuyu rummaged through the gift bag. He pulled out a white T-shirt with I ❤️ NY printed on the front and – he blinked at what had dropped on the coffee table – another gift card to the same music store.

“I’ll see your gift card,” Ugetsu said, glancing at Akihiko in triumph, “and raise you a piece of New York.”

“You mean you matched soulless cash and topped it with some tacky tourist crap?”

“Come on, now,” Haruki said with a tentative smile, “it’s not a competition.”

“But if it was…,” Ugetsu trailed off, taking a sip of his coffee.

“You know – “ Akihiko started, whipping to glare at him.

“Well, then!” Haruki said, the level of merry and volume of his voice increasing. “Mafu-chan, should you try the shirt?”

Mafuyu began to wiggle the shirt over his hoodie. With some help from Haruki, his tousled hair eventually emerged through the neckline. Smiling softly, Mafuyu smoothed the front of the shirt with his colorful mittens.

“Thank you, Ugetsu-san. It’s a perfect fit.”

“It’s culture, so make sure not to wash with the pinks,” Ugetsu said, his heart suddenly vibrating with warm and fuzzy. “Happy birthday.”

Akihiko cleared his throat and set his coffee mug on the table.

“Time to break out the entertainment. I wanted to get something memorable, but Haruki rejected all my good ideas, so – “

“Half of them were illegal ideas!” Haruki exclaimed. “The rest were just…morally questionable.”

“So, we’re stuck with Karaoke Revolution.”

That didn’t seem to disappoint a roomful of musically gifted kids with a strong competitive streak. Except for Broody Locks, of course, though he did hoist himself to the edge of the sofa. Hiiragi was quick to demand the first go which drew some resistance from the others.

Haruki began to pick up the remains of the gift wrappings and scrunch them un in a tight ball.

“Did you get the console hooked up?” he asked.

The console whirled as it swallowed up the game disk. The animated logo of ‘Karaoke Revolution’ flashed across the television screen.

“Yeah, no problem. You’re talking to someone who has taken care of everything even remotely electric you can find in a household for years.”

“Karaoke?” Ugetsu said, eyeing the console suspiciously. “That’s a bold choice in an apartment.”

“It’s fine,” Akihiko said, “I took care of the neighbors.”

“Would you stop saying it like that,” Haruki groaned.

“Well, I did. And by the looks they gave me, I doubt they will complain.”

Haruki looked like wanted to cover his face with both hands and weep.

“I knew I shouldn’t have sent out the guy with blonde hair and piercings.”

“No, Haruki-san,” Mafuyu said, holding the mic. As the birthday boy, he had rightfully reserved the first place for himself. “For threatening jobs, I think Kaji-san is exactly the one you send.”

“I didn’t say anything about threatening!”

“I didn’t threaten anyone,” Akihiko defended himself, flicking the buttons of the console controller, “I just informed them. Mafuyu, what genre do you want?”

“I need a smoke,” Haruki whimpered, rubbing his forehead in suffering. “Maybe holler out an apology or something if I see the neighbors...”

“Why does Mafuyu get to choose the genre, too?!” Hiiragi said. “He’s going to pick something impossible. I just know it!”

Deadpan, Mafuyu looked at him.

“Surely, you – of all people – can handle any genre. Right?”

“Sorry,” Akihiko said, “birthday rules. Mafuyu gets to pick.”

“Just nothing too loud, okay?” Haruki reminded over his shoulder before stepping out to the balcony.

“I think this is my cue to take my leave, too,” Ugetsu said and stood up.

His legs had gotten stiff from sitting. Blood rushed to his head from the sudden change in altitude.

“Really?” Mafuyu said, looking disappointed like a puppy who was left home. “Already?”

“Sorry, my limit goes at karaoke.”

“Do you need that ride?” Akihiko said. “My bike’s here, I could drive you.”

It had been a while since the last time Ugetsu had sat on Akihiko’s bike. He still remembered the weight of the machine between his legs. The exhilaration of pressing against Akihiko’s broad back as they leaned into the corners. But that seat behind him wasn’t his place anymore.

“It’s fine, I’ll manage. I will have a smoke before I leave, though.”

Akihiko didn’t comment, but Ugetsu could feel his eyes on him as he zigzagged through the crowd of kids. He found a pair of familiar dark green crocks next to the door to the balcony. They were still the ugliest things he had ever laid his eyes on.  

The balcony door creaked when Ugetsu pushed it open. Immediately, cold February air rushed in to greet him.

Haruki turned to glance over his shoulder. When he saw Ugetsu coming out, his eyes widened and he started coughing.

“Got any of those to spare?”

Ugetsu nodded at the blue pack of cigarettes.

“Uh, sure,” Haruki wheezed.  

The film of crinkling wrapping was still a bit warm from Haruki’s hands when Ugetsu dug out a cigarette. There was a dark red lighter stuffed in as well. Its flame trembled in the cold air but hung on to its short-lived life honorably.

Ugetsu drew a deep breath, just now realizing how he had been craving for a smoke ever since ringing the doorbell.

“I never really took to the taste of Mevius,” he said, giving the package back. “Seven Stars is my brand.”

“Ah, I see, well,” Haruki said, conjuring up a light tone.

The metal railing was icy cold when Ugetsu leaned on it. He huddled up in his too-thin shirt, trying to wrap himself tighter. A mixture of vapor and smoke swirled out between his parted lips. Haruki cast him a side-eyed glance but didn’t say anything.

Ugetsu wondered what would happen if he just let the silence linger.

“It’s a nice view. You can see the whole sky.”

As if to confirm his words, Haruki looked up. The late-night February sky was dark but illuminated by the sea of artificial lights from the city below.

“Oh. Yes, it’s nice especially in the mornings.”

Ugetsu rolled the cigarette between his fingers. His thumb followed the round edge of the filter tip.

“My place is a basement. You can’t really see much of the outside from there.”

He drew another drag of smoke, let it sit deep in his lungs for a while before letting it escape.

“But I think I prefer it that way.”

Haruki’s shoes scraped against the cement floor as he shifted.

“Uh, well, to each their own, I guess.”

The first beats of Karaoke Revolution carried faintly from the inside. Ugetsu could hear Mafuyu’s vocals. He didn’t recognize the song, but just listening to Mafuyu’s voice helped him relax a little.

It’s okay. Right, Mafuyu? If I look back, it will be okay?

“He seems happy with you. Akihiko.”

Haruki visibly flinched. Like whiplash, he looked at him. Ugetsu noticed his cheeks were a bit rosy – from the cold or the fluster, he couldn’t tell.

“I – uh – ,” he stammered for words, “I don’t…really know if…I mean…”

“I don’t mind talking about him,” Ugetsu dragged on the cigarette and glanced Haruki, “do you?”

For a while, Haruki’s mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. His eyes darted nervously around, and he tucked his hair behind his ear. Ugetsu wondered if he had a nervous habit of doing that. It was kind of cute.

“Well, I suppose it’s – if you want to, then, I don’t…really mind, I guess.”

“Are you sure? It’s your balcony.”

Ugetsu waited. He wanted to give Haruki a chance to take it back and leave.

Going once, he counted in his head.

Going twice.

But to his surprised, Haruki stayed. His gaze settled on the scenery of rooftops in front of them. His hands were fiddling with the pack of cigarettes.

“No, it’s okay.”

Ugetsu blew out the smoke.

Sold to the cute blonde with gentle eyes.  

And so, looking down at the February night stretching over the city – so different yet similar to his view from the hotel room in New York – Ugetsu finally looked back.

“I came to watch him perform that one time after he moved out – when he placed fourth,” he began. “I guess I had to see it for myself. When you guys had your live show, I kind of had a feeling, but…”

Ugetsu swallowed and took a steadying breath. The cool winter air brushed against his cheeks soothingly.

It’s okay.

“I wasn’t completely sure until listening to his violin performance. That’s his sound that I’ve always known the best. But that’s when I fully saw it. He was playing like he used to. Well, not really – he had let himself get rusty. But at the core, it was the same sound.”

He remembered sitting in the packed concert hall. Not knowing what he would hear. Not knowing what he wanted to hear. On one hand, defiance sat heavily on his chest. On the other hand, hope made his skin prickle with nerves.

But in a few strokes of the bow, Akihiko’s violin had opened a channel like a wormhole in Ugetsu’s mind. He was back in the music room. Skipping classes together. The smell of the dusty music sheets. The warmth of the heater against his back. Akihiko practicing with him.

Fighting the burn of tears, Ugetsu had closed his eyes and let the relief wash over him. The Brahms Akihiko had chosen had been his private piece of absolution. It was all still there, still safe in Akihiko; his love for music.

It was the least lonely Ugetsu had felt since Akihiko had moved out.

“That’s when I fully realized,” he said in a low voice, almost more to himself, “he had gotten his music back.”

His heart pounding heavy, Ugetsu lifted the cigarette to his lips. He noticed his hand was trembling a little, and he doubted it was entirely from the cold.

“Have you always played in a band?”

Perplexed at the sudden change of topic, Haruki’s hands ceased their nervous twiddling.

“Yes, I played in my girlfrie – um, with a different group before Given.”

“Do you think you could ever give up music? For good?”

Haruki frowned.

“I…I have never really thought about that. But no, I don’t think I could ever give up music completely.”

Ugetsu smiled a little.

“Good. I hope you never have to. It’s the worst feeling. Worse than death.”

He almost laughed at the way Haruki’s eyebrows shut up.

“Well, maybe not that dramatic,” he admitted. “But something close to that.”

He looked at the dark, vast sky opening above them.

“To me, my music is freedom. I’m not very good at expressing myself, I guess. But music is…transcending. It doesn’t need pesky things like words.”

Now, it was Haruki’s turn to look like he wanted to smile. His eyes softened.

“I know someone else who once said something similar. But I think – from where I’m standing – you’re both doing just fine.”

Ugetsu wet his dry, chapped lips. Immediately, the cold night air attacked the moisture.

“Maybe. Usually, the things I want to say – what I know are true inside me – come out warped and wrong. I hurt Aki a lot like that. Me and my mouth.”

From behind them, Mafuyu’s singing switched to Akihiko’s deep vocals. It had been a while since Ugetsu had heard him sing. Sometimes he had used to hum under his breath to the radio while cooking. He didn’t have perfect pitch, but he easily went with the flow and could summon up an amazing level of poise.

Ugetsu smiled around the stub of his cigarette. Akihiko had always been like that. Walking down a packed hallway in a girl’s uniform and execute the perfect kabedon on the loudest homophobe in the school took poise if anything.

“But that’s beside the point,” he continued. “What I’m trying to say is that Akihiko did that. Gave up his music. And I could feel it was because of me. I would have had to be blind to not see that.”

Haruki went back to remaining quiet, but his hands didn’t return to their restless dance. Ugetsu was relieved. He was getting to the hard part, and Haruki calming down gave him an odd sense of comfort.

“I think,” he went on quietly, Akihiko’s singing in the background, “when two people love each other, they also…change each other. Almost like molding. With us, too. Akihiko changed me, and I changed him in return. And I think some of those shapes we put in each other will never leave.”

They had fallen in love in the music room, but they had gotten to know each other in the basement. On the outside, the basement had looked still and quiet. But inside, there had been one of nature’s most curious transformations underway. Two individual souls rippling against each other, overlapping and exploring.

It was a beautiful and wonderful chemical reaction but also violent and gruesome. To fit together, the souls needed to be molded – bits of them were destroyed, and not all of those pieces were rebuilt.

“But the longer we stayed together,” Ugetsu mused, “there more I realized that I was changing in ways I didn’t want to. I was getting so wrapped up in Akihiko that I wasn’t really thinking about my music anymore. I was chasing him instead. That’s when I got…scared.”

In truth, it had been a far more complicated feeling, but he supposed ‘scared’ was at the root of it. Losing focus on his music had crept up to him in secret and undetected. He had become restless and irritable. An uneasiness had vibrated somewhere deep inside him.

Then it had dawned on him where his relationship with Akihiko was taking him. And where he was taking Akihiko, in return.

His first instinct had been to retreat. Cut himself free. Both of them.

But then he had lingered. The edge of his resolve had dulled until he was merely listlessly hacking at what kept them together.

It wasn’t fair. He loved Akihiko.

Why did he have to choose? Was this the price of loving someone? Could he ever pay it for anyone?

Please, don’t ask this of me, he had wanted to plead. Anything else but this. Not his music.

Ugetsu let out a humorless chuckle.

“The irony was, though, while I was struggling to keep my music, I could see Akihiko giving up his. He was giving me a part of himself that I never wanted him to give up. I never asked for it. But I saw it leaking out of him like there was a hole in him somewhere. And I realized that not only had I put that hole in there, but I was the hole.”

Pressure built behind his eyes, but he blinked it away. He took a shaky drag on his cigarette but found it almost burnt to the filter. The heat of the smolder had crept up to burn his fingers. A bit lost, he blinked at the stub.  

“There,” Haruki said and pointed at a pickle jar at his feet.

The loose lid came off easily. Ugetsu savored the metallic clank against the glass rim. The sound was somehow hollow and full at the same time.

“Could I,” he said and nodded at the cigarettes again, “bother you for one more?”

Hurriedly, Haruki fumbled the pack for him. The red lighter spat a couple of times, but Ugetsu’s hands were too unsteady to get the small flickering flame to lick the end of his cigarette. After his third failure, a pair of cool, warm hands took the lighter from him.

“Here,” Haruki said.

Ugetsu drew on the filter, and the flame took.

“Thanks,” he said, letting out puffs of smoke.

“Ugetsu-san – “

“Just Ugetsu is fine.”

“Then, Ugetsu,” Haruki continued, “can I ask…why are you telling me all this?”

He looked at Ugetsu straight on. Not challenging or rejecting, but with the same sincerity as when he had invited Ugetsu to join the party. To think that Akihiko had been around this person for so long, having this shoulder to lean on. He wondered if Akihiko had ever looked at him and thought if only Ugetsu was more like Haruki.

If only it had been him back then and not Ugetsu.

The thought choked him, but he pushed it behind him. For another time.

“Why? I’m giving you a manual, of course. From the previous owner. Akihiko is delicate.”

“Delicate? He doesn’t…look very delicate to me.”

“Ahh, don’t let the piercings and fierce glare fool you. They’re all part of it.”

A small flock of blinking lights slid across the dark sky. An airplane. Ugetsu wondered absently how much tickets to Europe would cost. Rome. Prague. No, maybe Paris. Maybe he could talk his manager into letting him take another intercontinental trip under some violin-related pretense.

“But I guess,” Ugetsu said, “I also thought you looked like the type who would listen to me. Despite everything.”

Yes, maybe Paris. He could drink too much expresso. Sit on a patio, judging people passing by. Get lost in the narrow early evening alleys. Let some French man sweet-talk him thinking Ugetsu didn’t understand what he was saying.

“I’m not sure if, uh,” Haruki said, “if I fully understand the situation. And maybe it’s not my place anyway. But…”

Haruki craned his neck to look at the sky. Ugetsu wondered could he make out the blinking plane, too. Did he ever just want to buy a one-way ticket and not look back?

“But I think I understood at least a little bit. So, I’m glad you told me.”

Suddenly, their wavering, rippling tunes brushed against each other and then met at the same note. Resonation ran through Ugetsu, amplifying and overwhelming. Unexpectedly, the two seeming opposites – spring and rain – had connected and found each other in a cold midwinter night.

Well, I’ll be damned, Ugetsu thought, gripping the railing a bit tighter.

They both flinched when the balcony door creaked open and Mafuyu’s head popped out.

“Haruki-san, it’s your turn to sing.”

“What!?” Haruki exclaimed, swirling around.

“Kaji-san said that co-hosts should do a duet.”

Groaning, Haruki stubbed out his cigarette. The jar lid clanked again, full but hollow. Ugetsu took a deep drag of his cigarette, riding the small burst of endorphins coursing through him.

“Oi, I told you – “

The door cut him off before they could hear more about the reasons as to why there was no way this duet was going to happen.

Mafuyu’s slippers scraped against the pavement when he shuffled over to Ugetsu’s side. He noticed the mittens were finally off. Ironically, he would have probably needed them right now.

“Oh, a plane,” Mafuyu said.

“Did Akihiko send you?”

“Hmm, well, you were gone for a long time. What were you talking about?”

“Nothing. Weather and politics.”

The last puffs of smoke swirled out of Ugetsu’s nostrils when he bent down to put out his cigarette as well. He wondered if he should buy a jar of pickles, too, and save it for an ashtray.

“Is everything…alright?”

“No, I can’t feel my toes anymore. Let’s go back in.”

But Mafuyu wouldn’t budge.

“Ugetsu-san.”

Mafuyu’s tone was stubborn but caring, so Ugetsu stifled his sigh. Expectantly, he waited but the kid seemed to be struggling to find the words. As endearing as the crease of Mafuyu’s brow was, Ugetsu’s feet were freezing in the airy crocs.

“Look,” he said, “I know what you’re probably thinking. Something like maybe you shouldn’t have invited me, right?”

The way the frown deepened told Ugetsu he had hit the nail in the head.

“I was just…I mean…Ngh…”

Ugetsu studied him.

Really, this kid.

“It’s pretty simple, actually. Did you want me here?”

“Yes!” Mafuyu said immediately, with no hesitation. “I really wanted to celebrate with you, but…”

“Then I wanted to be here, too. Everything else is irrelevant.”

Winter breeze fluttered a puff of snowflakes in the balcony and tousled Mafuyu bangs. His frown melted when he smiled at Ugetsu warmly.

“Then, thank you for coming, Ugetsu-san.”

“Good. Now, come on, I want to take these hideous things off my feet already.”

It seemed the status of Akihiko’s mission to convince Haruki of the health benefits of a duet was to-be-continued. Ugetsu was glad he was getting out of the way before he would find himself sitting through that.

Akihiko nodded his goodbyes at him. Haruki seemed to be buried up to his waist in the fridge, trying to make room for all the snacks. Mafuyu in tow, Ugetsu made his way down the hallway. Like a puppy, the kid watched him dress.

“Why don’t you come over sometime next week, and I’ll show you what records I got from New York.”

“Hm.”

“You can pick some if you want to. You should grow your record collection instead just of CDs.”

“Hm.”

“Thank Haru-chan for the cake and coffee for me.”

“Hm.”

“Annoy Akihiko. It’s your right as the birthday boy.”

“Hm.”

“Then, I’m off.”

“Bye-bye.”

Mafuyu was left waving after him in the hallway as the front clanked shut. Ugetsu found himself looking at the notebook page again. A grin played on his lips, he dug a pen out of his breast pocket on a whim.

He was halfway across the parking lot when his phone vibrated. Mentally groaning, he decided to ignore the troublesome thing – he had had enough social interaction for one night. But then he dug it out. Maybe he had forgotten something. It was easier to come back from downstairs than from across the city.

He halted. It was from Akihiko.

Another single-word message.

“Okaeri.”

Perhaps looking back won’t get him lost. Maybe if I look back, Ugetsu thought as he left Akihiko on seen, it will help me find my path instead.

The End.

[unkownknowledge]

Genshin characters and their spider s/o

A little crossover HC post between terraformars and genshin.

Basically the reader is the result of a messed up experiment and now they look like a monstrous humanoid spider, like this guy:

Except you have no human skin or hair, just pure chitin, extra legs out the back, and mandibles(like a turian)

Also: request are still open, feel free to request!

Including: Jean, Xinqiu, and Razor

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Jean: hollow knight

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Jean had been receiving reports of frightened merchants and townsfolk, all of whom had been found on the road ranting about a giant spider.

Jean was sure it was nothing more than hilichurls or hoarders or abyss mages and the people were merely suffering panic induced hallucinations, this was supported by the clear signs of such dangers at the scene of the crime.

But still, neither any of the knights nor adventurers in the guild reported saving these people, nor did Diluc claim that he did when she asked him.

So Jean decided to investigate, after all not only is there a chance of finding camps of the three above dangers, but also the chance of finding a new ally.

When she saw you in a clearing you looked like a normal human, until you turned your head in an inhuman manner and looked at her with eight red glowing eyes.

You screamed at her and used your geo vision to grow eight giant legs out your back, which you used to run away.

Jean, being the persistent woman she is, wasn't about let you go until she confirmed if you were a friend or foe.

She chased you through the forest for a while, and unfortunately didn't notice a group of hilichurls hiding behind some trees.

One swung out and struck her from behind, knocking her to the ground.

At the sound of this you turned around and saw Jean on the ground.

While she easily could have beaten the hilichurls, she didn't have to. This is because you were immediately next to her, sword drawn and slicing through the monsters like a hot knife through butter. Your geo legs acted like extra blades that parried any attack directed towards the knight.

Because you're other legs were busy, however, you were unable to block the attack from a crossbow that shot right through your knee.

You fell down and were beaten senseless by the hilichurls, the last thing you remember was the sounds of a blade and the monsters turning to dust before you blacked out.

You woke up on a soft bed inside an unfamiliar building. You tried to get up but your knee had a large hole in it, luckily for you your ability to feel pain was long lost.

Jean entered a minute later with some food, "good, your awake."

"Where am I?" You asked.

"In my home, the guest room to be exact."

"Why did you save me?"

"Because you were in danger."

"Yes but why? Aren't you afraid of me?"

"Considering how you saved me as well? No, not at all."

Jean poured some tea for both of you, "now onto-"

You felt your eyes water, something you didn't realize you could still do.

"What's wrong?" Jean asked.

"It's just, it's been so long since anyone was...nice to me. My appearance isn't exactly very welcoming."

"And yet you still help people, the same people who call you a monster?"

"Of course! I might be an abomination, but I'm not a monster. In fact, before I became...this I had always dreamed of joining the knights."

"Well, that makes things easy."

"What do you mean?"

"While I cannot officially make you a knight, I can make you an honorary member of the knights of favonius."

"REALLY!?" You said, a child like excitment on your face.

So you joined the knights, of course not everyone was happy about this.

But noone doubted the acting grand master's decision, after all she never once failed the city.

After a while the city warmed up to you, even hailing you as a hero thanks to all you've done!

But the city's attitude towards you wasn't the only thing getting warmer.

Infact, a certain person's cheeks seemed to grow red as Amber's ribbon at the mere mention of your name.

Lisa and Kaeya were the first to notice Jean's infatuation with you, and they were quite intent on helping her.

It would be easy for them to set it up: you were cold blooded, so you had a heater in your room during the winter, and thanks to a 'freak lightning strike', your house was under renovations for the whole season, this caused Jean to let you stay in her home until yours was repaired.

Now all they had to do was sneak in an 'cool it' down.

You awoke in the middle of the night due to the temperature suddenly dropping. You tried turning on your heater but that didn't work. You went downstairs to make some hot tea, unaware that Kaeya swapped the labels on Jean's coffee and your tea. After making the beverage you sat down in the warmest corner, covered in blankets, and with a warm drink in hand.

Fun fact! Spiders get hella drunk off caffeine.

You are a spider.

One sip of the coffee and you felt funny, you couldn't think straight and felt wobbly.

Kaeya and Lisa giggled watching you.

"So, how DID you get them drunk? You couldn't exactly have spiked their tea could you?" Lisa asked.

"I swapped the labels on their tea and Jeans coffee. Spiders get hella drunk on-" Kaeya noticed Lisa worried face, "fuck, what did I do this time?"

"Kaeya, spiders don't get drunk on caffeine like humans do with alcohol."

Lisa pointed Kaeya towards the window

"Whoops"

Caffeine doesn't make spiders drunk the same way alchohol does a person, which is what Kaeya expected.

Caffeine makes spiders hyper, very hyper.

When Jean heard skittering and clanging she thought someone was robbing the house, so she was reasonably surprised to see you lying in the center of the kitchen, crying, and with webs all over.

When she asked what happened you just rolled over and mumbled out gibberish about how you can't catch any flies.

Jean picked you up to take you to bed, but you wrapped your arms and legs around her and caused her to fall.

"(Y/n), please let me go." Jean pleaded.

You shushed her, "nap time" and fell asleep.

Your grip was to strong for her to get out, and with your weight she couldn't get up in this position, so she just had to wait for you to get up.

The next day Jean got up the same time as you, she would have said something if you didn't kiss her and pet her head.

"I love this dream." You said, nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

Jean was shocked, what dream? You were clearly awake.

"I wonder if Jean is this warm in real life....I wish I could find out..."

"(Y-y/n)" she stuttered out, "you're not dreaming."

You shot up with all your eyes wide as saucers.

You immediately thought of running. But where would you go? The forest? Yeah, that works, just go there a-

You felt a warm sensation on your cheek.

"So (y/n), how does this dream usually go?" Jean said with a suggestive wink.

.

.

.

"(Y/n)?"

404 error, reader.exe has crashed

After that rather unconventional confession session, you both started dating.

Jean was concerned about not having enough time for you, but that proved to be very unfounded. Thanks to your many years alone you didn't know what dating was, so to you simply working together was fine.

On every mission out of the city you would bring gifts or a picnic for when the sun was setting.

On days where you both had paper work you would make tea and buy little cakes or biscuits and sit on her lap as you rested on eachother's shoulders and fed each other snacks, under the excuse that "sharing a chair saves space".

On the rare occasion Jean gets to have a day off, she showers you in affection.

She'll make you breakfast in bed(it's not good 80% of the time, but you don't tell her), she'll cuddle with you all day, she'll even read to you if you want. She wants to give back to you for all the time she couldn't give you her full attention.

_____________________________

Xingqiu: it's like one of my Inazuman graphic novels

_____________________________

Your meeting with the guhua geek was far more coincidental.

You were just minding your business, catching some animals to eat, when some weird guy just walks by you, not noticing you at all, as he reads his book.

You were rather suprised and, by extension, curious about this boy.

Was he blind in peripheral? Was he that brave? Was he an idiot?

A bit of colum B, mostly colum C.

Xingqiu sat down on a rock and continued reading, given how he was reading aloud you figured you might as well take advantage of his lack of notice and learn to read.

But he did notice.

"Ah shoot, spaces out again." Xingqiu cried, "now I have to start all over."

Xingqiu started reading the book all over again, much to your joy.

You could easily match his words to the page thanks to your speed of comprehension.

When the boy noticed it was getting late he decided to head home, while you were upset you didn't try and stop him. In fact you immediately darted away before he saw you.

The next day he came back, and read from the same spot.

And again

And again

This went on for quite some time.

Xingqiu knew someone was watching him, but he never was able to catch a glimpse. He just figured it was someone who wanted to read legends of the shattered halberd but couldn't find any copies, and so the chivalrous thing to do would be to read it for them.

One day he finished the fifth book and proclaimed it was the last one, which made you rather sad.

Until he spoke to you.

"Well my secretive friend," he turned around, "shall w-"

You screamed

He screamed

For about five minutes.

After which you both just stared at eachother.

He pointed a shakey finger at you, "you're-"

You turned away, 'a freak I know' you thought.

"SO COOL!"

"What?"

Xingqiu immediately ran at you and started inspecting you.

The whole time he had such an amazed look on his face.

"Woah!" He said as he grabbed your mandibles, "are these real?!"

"Ye ey are, a ah ee e ah a" you said hoping he would understand that you need them to talk.

"Oh. Hehe. Sorry." He said releasing them.

"Aren't you...scared of me?" You asked.

"Why would I be? If you wanted to kill me you would have. It's not like I was particularly on guard when I was reading for you."

'Y-you knew I was there?"

"I knew someone was there, and I knew they were watching me read. Since you showed such interest in my book I thought the only chivalrous thing to do was to keep reading."

You were shocked, most people just ran and screamed upon seeing you.

"Now, shall we go look for the sixth book?"

After that you and Xingqiu became fast friends.

He used some of the money he made from the scam he pulled on that scammer to buy out the forest you lived in, making it officially private property so that people won't go after you.

He kept coming back with books for you both to read, you absolutely loved it!

And while you never realized it, you also loved him.

He however, did know he loved you.

Being the menace to society he is, Xingqiu decided the best way to confess was to just kiss you.

You're sitting on a stump with your head on Xingqiu's shoulder.

"This book isn't as good as the others." You say.

"Ah don't be like that, fairy tales are the foundation of all those 'knight in shining armor books' you love."

"Yeah but this is boring."

"True, true. But I think it has a great ending." Xingqiu turned to the final page, "and then the knight told the (royal title) how much he loved them, and to seal his love he placed a kiss on their cheek."

"That wasn't good."

"Why? It was very realistic."

"In what reality does someone confess by kiss-"

*smooch*

It took you a solid five seconds to process what happened.

Xingqiu smirked at you like the bastard man he is, "this one I believe."

Your mandibles hung slack as your face got a dark shade of blue.

"Uh, (y/n)?"

"Clothes off, now."

Xingqiu stumbled out the forest four hours later. Chongyun, who was protecting his privacy, asked him what's wrong.

"Absolutely nothing." He responded with the largest grin a human could muster, before his legs gave out, "can you carry me home?"

Your relationship was more steady than just that bit though.

Xingqiu spent as much time with you as he could, he even learned how to hunt so he could be with you while you hunted for food.

You never left your forest though, you were far to afraid of people and especially the vigilant yaksha(which Xingqiu tried to convince you was friendly).

Of course, not everything goes so simply.

Xingqiu was skipping through the forest, far to enamoured at the idea of you to notice someone following him.

You sat calmly on your rock and awaited your boyfriend of two years, today was his birthday so you made him a beautiful silk picture of his favorite scene from 'the legend of the broken halberd'

You felt the boy drop into your lap, "hello my love!"

You wrapped your arms and extra legs around him, "hello my little knight, I have a wonderful gift for-"

"XINQIU! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!"

You both turned around to see a man who looked oddly like Xingqiu.

"H-hey big bro..." Xingqiu said, clearly nervous.

"You're his brother?" You asked, "nice to meet you! I'm your future sibling in law!"

His brother looked surprised, then angry, "Xingqiu, a word."

"No," he responded, "anything you can say to me you can say to my (s/o)."

"Xingqiu, this is not a game."

"ANYTHING," Xingqiu said, far more aggressive, "you can say to me, you can say to them."

His brother sighed, "you can't date them."

"I believe I can."

"XINGQIU! ME AND FATHER HAVE TOLERATED ENOUGH OF YOUR CHILDISHNESS! YOU ARE AN HEIR OF THE FEIYUN COMMERCE GUILD, YOU CANNOT DATE THAT-THAT THING!"

Xingqiu shot up into a fighting stance, "care to repeat that?"

Xingqiu stared down his brother with murderous intent.

"So you wont back down?"

"Never, I love (y/n) to much!"

"If you don't leave them, you'll be disowned by father, all your wealth, power, and influence will be forfeited. All for an inhuman freak!"

"Xinqiu please," you tried telling your beloved, "I won't let you sacrifice-"

"Sorry darling, but I don't give a damn." He interrupted you before turning to his brother, "I will NOT abandon my beloved (y/n)! They are the most precious thing in the world to me! So go ahead! Strip me if my title, my riches, of my very skin! My heart will yearn for nothing else but the cold hard touch of love that is my (s/o)!"

Xinqiu's brother smirked

"So, you promise to always be with (y/n)?"

"Yes!"

"Through both sickness and health?"

As smart as he was, Xinqiu couldn't see what was happening, "with all my heart and soul!"

"And you would take (Y/N) as your contractually bound spouse?"

"I would sooner bite my arm off than live another day without them as such! In fact!" Xinqiu turned to you, "(Y/N)! WE'RE GOING TO GET MARRIED RIGHT NOW! COME ON!"

"Hold it!" His brother demanded, "(Y/N)! Would you stay with my brother, Xinqiu, through sickness and health, through rags and riches?"

You nodded, "forever and always!"

"And would you take him to be your contractually bound husband?"

"E-even if I had to fight Rex Lapis himself!"

Two burly hands grabbed the couple and pushed them together, "You may now kiss the bride!"

Without thought, you two kissed each other, not thinking to question the cheering, clapping, and crying-

You both pulled apart, "what the abyss is happening here?!"

The burly arms, now wrapping you both, was an older crying man who also looked like Xinqiu.

Xinqiu's Brother was crying and clapping.

Chongyun was blasting off party cones(🎉🎉these things)

And several other of Xinqiu's friends were there celebrating.

"W-wait..." Xinqiu started to remember that his brother, as a high ranking member of a commerce guild, can officiate marriages.

The older man, Xinqiu's father, cried and said, "finally! Grandchildren!"

(If you can't have babies, adoption exists and is perfectly normal)

Needless to say

404 error, Xinqiu.exe and Reader.exe have stopped working

_____________________________

Razor: the big bad spider and the itsy bitsy spider

_____________________________

(Please understand that my knowledge of Razor is based on his quest, I know of his special vision but it won't be brought up for this. I will be sure to read the wiki page for him if I write him again)

Razor knew something was wrong.

His wolf side told him something was wrong with the forest, and his human side told him it should be either avoided at all cost or destroyed.

Because it had stayed away he had largely tried to just avoid it and keep his lupical away from whatever IT is.

Until a foolish pup decided to try and defeat whatever big bad monster had their protector so scared.

Razor ran faster than any lightning bolt upon hearing the news.

Razor didn't know what he was seeing: giant webs strewn out covering entire trees, boars and Hilichurls wrapped in webs and frozen in a sickly green.

And at the center of it all was a giant, monstrous creature with eight leg like roots coming from it's back, feeding off the life of all the creatures stuck here.

This is what he was afraid of, the beast that every inch of his primal self screamed to get away from.

But he couldn't, not until he found the pup!-

"Hello." You said calmly to the strange man coming into your home, "is this your's?"

You outstretched your hand and a sleeping pup drifted towards razor on a flower.

"He caused lots of problems, so I made him sleep. Don't worry, it's nothing permanent, give him an hour or two and he'll be right up."

After Razor left, you assumed that would be the last disturbance for a while.

But it wasn't.

Razor's wolf half still feared you, was still mortified when he pictured your spider like face, your towering body, everything.

But his human half...teembled.

Not in fear, but in a different way.

He couldn't stop thinking of you, and his primal upbringing did little to quell the less romantic thoughts about your gem like eyes, the way your mandibles clicked and moved when you talked, the overwhelming nature energy that you radiated.

But he still knew good enough to get to know you better.

Just not HOW to do it.

"Why are you spider?"

Is not a good first thing to ask.

But you explained regardless: you were taken as a kid and experimented on by some rogue students from Sumeru academy.

Then some purple lady rescued you, and while you were grateful you much preferred living out in the wild.

"Yes...wild is good! Wolvendom, especially good!"

Someone please help him.

"Purple lady....ah! Shockey wizard lady from knights?"

You nodded

"Razor good friends with her and honorary knight! Do you know red flamy girl?"

"Klee? Oh yes! I love her! She's such a nice kid!"

"Yes, Klee is like lupical! Even if she...burns down forest from time to time."

Lucky for him, your shared familial love for the pyromaniacal minor helped bridge the gap between you two.

Eventually he even got you to leave your grotto(?) And meet his lupical!

He introduced you to the wonders of actually eating rather than just sucking the life force out of animals.

You both love and protect the forest of wolvendom, and if any large threat arises to it then you both will fight fang and claw to protect your home!

Neither of you know what love is in the human sense, but you both feel it to each other and act upon it: giving each other a portion of your food, taking blows in battle for each other, and cuddling more intimately than just friends would.

You are his lupical, and so much more.

_____________________________

I started this near last year's end, it took me till now to realize I should only do 3 characters.

(Paging: @golden-wingseos, @storytravelled)