#so when somebody like. cooks fish i get the fish smell in my house too so im wondering why my apartment stinks of dog 😭

[robotpussy]

im wondering why my living room stinks of wet dog and it's because the woman that lives above me has left her door wide open all day.....

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Love Me Tender•

Summary: After waiting, watching, and wanting, Tamaki finally has a way to get to you. He's willing to do use some questionable methods, make deals with shifty friends, whatever it takes. He'll have you.

Pairing: Pro Hero Tamaki Amajiki x FemReader (both 18+)

Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, coercion, sabotage, manipulation, hard dom Tamaki, slight brat reader, mostly sub reader, unprotected sex, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), tentacle play (oral, vaginal, anal, gagging), bondage (with tentacles), mild dumbification, degradation, spit play, cum play, wittle bit of bloodplay, creampie, marking, possession kink, collaring. Kinda-sorta dub-con (not really imo but warning just in case)

Word Count: 11,576

A/N: Jesus fucking christ I did it.

Part One: Porcelain Obsession

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   Tamaki awoke painfully this morning, body aching and covered in dried sweat. It wasn't a feeling to be proud of, but it was a feeling he cherished. 

   Your stolen underwear is clutched in his hand still, like a lifeline. It still smells just a little bit like you… but not enough. He couldn't feel you or taste you or hold you. He had to figure something out, quickly. He had to find a way to make you his. 

   Luckily, Tamaki knows exactly how to make that happen…

***                                         

  You hang up your apron with a deep sigh, wiping sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Thank god it's only a half day, you finally have an afternoon off, a day to spend by yourself. 

   You bid your coworkers farewell and head out of the shop. You wander home, earbuds in as you try to drown out the noise of the city. Once you're home, you notice a small box on your doorstep. 

   It's a pretty little gold box with purple ribbon, a tiny note is attached to the top. The scribbled writing reads,

   "I thought this would look pretty on you, I'm sorry about the weird exit last night. I'd like to take you to get some coffee to make up for it, if you'll let me." - Tamaki

   Your heart flutters a bit at the note, you had deduced you were nothing more than a charity case. Him walking you home was just what he felt was fair in exchange for the use of your phone, he didn't really… like you? Did he? 

   His exit was just a little bit strange, he seemed almost panicked. You wanted to ask if everything was ok, but figure it best to stay out of a hero's business. Who knows what door you'd be opening if you started to ask too many questions.

   Beneath his note is a phone number, obviously his. You can't call him right away, it might seem desperate, but you can open the box. 

   When the lid comes off, you gasp quietly at what's hidden inside. On a delicate silver chain sits one lovely little pearl. You stand there, amazed and confused. Wondering why on earth somebody like Suneater would leave such a precious little gift for you. 

***

   You called the number left on the note about an hour after receiving it. As soon as Tamaki picks up the phone your heart leaps into your throat. 

   "I didn't think y-you'd call." He laughs afterwards, but you can hear traces of genuine anxiety underneath. 

   "Well, what kind of an asshole would I be if I didn't call back the hero that saved me from a lonely walk home?" Your face crinkles up at your horrid attempt at flirting. 

   He doesn't seem to mind, though. He gives you a sweet laugh, putting some of your nerves at ease. 

   "So, uh- coffee?" He wonders. 

   "I'd love to, I just got off work, but I imagine you're busy doing hero stuff. We can-"

   "No I'm not busy." He says quickly, his urgency makes you smile. He's almost boyish in his approach, and it's very charming. 

   Somehow, between the two of you suffering your way through the conversation, you set a time for coffee.

***

    Tamaki makes a quick stop before meeting you, visiting a horrid friend of his in an alleyway a hero should never be unless he's kicking someone's ass. 

   His "friend" turns out to be a little more than your average criminal. He's a wicked looking man, with a mess of black hair and an abundance of scarring littering his body. 

   They call him Dabi. 

   "So what's the plan here? Am I just scarin' the poor girl or do I get to have some real fun?" His smile is devilish, and his eyes are telling. 

   It makes Tamaki's skin crawl, he stares daggers at the man leaning against the brick of the alleyway. 

   "If you touch her, I will gut you like a fucking fish." Tamaki says, he's full of rage, but he says it so calmly, so matter of fact. 

   "You can try." Dabi laughs, "You forget how easy it is to cook seafood." 

   Tamaki stands there for a brief second, watching the villain, weighing his options. 

   "I'm not here for banter, can you do the job or not?" His words are clipped, strangely articulate compared to his usual stutter. 

   "Yeah whatever, I got nothin' planned for tonight, and I do love making little girls scream." He tilts his head back against the wall as Tamaki turns to stalk away. 

   "Hey, Suneater." Dabi calls out with a lazy voice. 

   Tamaki freezes and keeps his back to Dabi. He turns his head to the side and waits for him to speak. 

   "Send her my way when you're done with her." If Tamaki had less of the public eye on him, he would have slit Dabi's throat then and there. 

   Instead, he swallows his rage as he tosses a hefty wad of cash over his shoulder. 

   "Don't be late." 

***

   "You always just drink it black? Not even a little bit of sugar?' You ask, astounded by Tamaki's ability to drink the bitter liquid without any sweetener.

   "Sugar is kind of useless for me, I try to eat things that'll help me with m-my quirk." He explains, his deep eyes wander while he talks, like he's watching for something. 

   That must come with being a hero. 

   "Does coffee help your quirk?" You ask, a smile playing at your lips when you see him frown at his drink. 

   "No, but it helps me focus."

   You nod playfully before taking a sip, the cafe he's brought you to is incredibly charming. It's not an overly hip establishment, it's just a sweet little hidden gem. Tucked away into a forgotten street, it gives the impression that it's a well kept secret between two best friends. 

   "Do you feel like people ask too much of you?" You question. It slips out so quickly, running away from you after launching out of your lips. 

   Your hatred for small talk gets the best of you and you jump the gun, as always. You want to hide, but not before you apologise a thousand times for being too straightforward. 

   Tamaki looks at you thoughtfully, his eyes show that he's shocked, but not offended.

   "Sometimes. It can feel like people expect me t-to be the…" He pauses for a moment, mentally grasping for the right word. 

   "It feels like people expect Heroes to be this ultimate, universal band-aid. In a lot of ways, we are, but we're still h-human… I-I'm still human…" His voice slows down by the end of his sentence, like he's realized he might be over sharing. 

   But, you asked him, you wanted to know. You actually care about him? Every bone in his body is screaming at him to grab you, throw you over his shoulder and run away. He feels some carnal desire to just keep you. Hide you from every selfish asshole that would take advantage of the starstruck look in your beautiful eyes. 

   He can't, though… not yet. 

   "S-sorry…" He whispers. 

   And then, you reach across the table to take his hand in yours. He feels the contact all the up his arm, into his chest, into his heart. 

   So you do want him too. 

   "Please don't be sorry, I liked listening to you talk." You say quietly. 

   You did love it, you loved it because you've felt so unheard, so unseen. Being able to provide somebody else with a pair of listening ears serves as a kind of relief for those feelings. 

   "Can you tell me more?" You test, hand squeezing his own a little more. 

   He looks almost elated, thrilled to be seen, excited to be heard. Most of all, he's itching to finally have you. 

***

   The date was nothing short of wonderful, filled with cute little fumblings of words, hands brushing but never holding, and sharing bits and pieces of yourselves with each other. 

   You flop onto your bed, reminiscent of a teenager who's just had their first kiss. You didn't kiss him goodnight, you chickened out of that. But you did press your lips against his cheek for a brief moment, which seemed to have quite the effect on him. 

      His breath hitched, his fists balled at his sides, acting like he'd never been touched so tenderly. It made you wonder, is the Hero as lonely as you are? 

   You glance over at your night stand, seeing the pretty little necklace sitting in its box. You're washed with guilt as you realize you forgot to wear it to coffee, knowing he must have wanted you to. You take it out of the box carefully before pulling it around your neck and hooking it into place. It fits like a choker, snug against your skin, but it feels good to have it so close.

   You're ripped from your musing when you hear the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. 

   Inside your house. 

   Your blood chills, hair stands up on the back of your neck and you rise from your bed slowly. You try to talk yourself down, kill the first nerves that consume your chest. It was probably a poorly balanced vase… except, you don't own any vases. It could have been a picture? Nope, not a picture, it was just glass… like a window breaking. 

   There's a gun in your office, but you're in the bedroom. You scan the room for something, anything that could be used for defense. Of course, nothing but a damn notebook. 

   The police, you should call the police. Your heart clenches when you hear the threatening sound of heavy footsteps falling down your hallway. 

   They're heading straight for your bedroom. 

   You lunge at the door, hand landing on the doorknob just as it begins to turn. Desperately, uselessly, you try to lock it. It's too late, though, it's already opening by the time your thumb lands on the lock. 

   You can hear your blood rushing when the door swings towards you, a large black boot planted on the other side to force it open. 

   "Sorry 'bout the window, sweetheart. I tried the front door, but it was locked." The intruder chuckles as he invades your bedroom. 

   You stumble back as you take in his sewn together form, a mess of black leather and scars. Wild, electric blue eyes devour your trembling form as you press yourself back into the wall. 

   "Oh, hon, you're shakin' like you're in danger. I ain't gonna hurt you, I'm gonna do the opposite." He stalks towards you, somehow moving in slow motion but with incredible speed all at the same time. 

   Your phone sits on your night stand, only feet away but all too unreachable. You're caged in by his arms as he towers over you, filling your nose with some horrid, smokey smell. 

   "P-please, you can have anything, j-just don't-" 

   Your words halt when a long, pale finger traces over your collar bone. 

   "Don't what? 'J-just don't' what?" He mocks you, eyes lit with a sadistic amusement. 

   Your heart rattles in your chest as tears prick your eyes, you can't fight him, he's huge. You don't have your gun. You don't have your phone. You're fucked. 

   "Cryin' already? What's the matter, doll?-" The hand traces your collar bone moves up to wrap around your throat, "Not a fan of villains?" 

   Your hands paw at his wrist, you will yourself to sputter something out, any kind of objection to whatever he has planned. You try to whimper out a 'stop', but when your mouth finally forms the word, the voice isn't yours, but it's familiar.

   It's low, clipped and dangerous as it barks out the warning. 

   Suneater. 

   Suddenly, as if he's being yanked to the heavens by the Gods, your assailant is torn away from you. A large, red tentacle captures him by the waist and throws him across the room. You collapse to the ground instantly, curling around your legs as you hear the muffled sounds of a violent fight. 

   You hide in your own little world, trembling and clenching yourself. You take one peak from between your arms, just to see Tamaki place the intruder in a chokehold before barking some profane threat at him. 

   The villain is smiling the whole time, he even winks at you. 

   "If I ever see you near her again, you won't walk away with your life." Tamaki snarls as the stranger breaks away from his hold.  

   "She's not worth the trouble." He laughs, raising one hand before sending brilliant blue flames blasting towards Tamaki. 

   You scream involuntarily, reaching out for the Hero as he jumps away from the flames. Once they're gone, the villain is gone as well. Like some cheap magician disappearing off stage. The room is almost entirely untouched by the burst of fire, at most, the tip of your comforter is singed. 

   The second the fire is gone, Tamaki is walking towards you urgently, pulling you to your feet so he can cradle your face. 

   "Are you ok? Did he touch you? What happened?" His inky eyes search your face frantically. 

   You don't answer, you just stutter, clinging to his hands until you can finally squeak out, "I'm ok." 

   His shoulders drop as he sighs, hands loosening their grip. His eyes flicker down to the necklace, his gaze softens when he sees how pretty it looks on you. 

   "Y-you… Do you like it?" He asks timidly, glancing up at you. 

    You breathe for a moment, slightly taken aback by the sudden shift in attention. 

   "I love it." You say quietly, still trembling. 

   He just saved you, really saved you from a real villain who was planning God knows what, and he's worried about your necklace? 

   "It's so pr-pretty on you…" He reaches down to touch it, leaving one hand on your cheek. 

   You take the moment to breathe, remind yourself that you're safe, that you're with a hero now. You observe Tamaki's almost casual appearance, a dry fit shirt and simple tactical pants. It almost helps you relax, seeing him like so… at ease? 

   His fingers play with the pearl, deep eyes transfixed. Something nearly uncontrollable swells within his chest. It burns and aches and eats at him. You're so close, you're so warm, so soft. He could have you, he could just take you. 

   "Tamaki?" You prod gently, your own chest stirs, and something pulls you towards him.

   His eyes snap up to yours, and something shifts in the air. It feels sticky, heavy, too hard to breathe. His gorgeous form towers over you, pressing you back up against the wall as his eyes devour your trembling body. 

   "Thank you f-for saving me." You whisper.

   He nods earnestly, his breathing is shaking, his hands feel like they're holding back. 

   "Anything. Anything for you." 

   That line, that makes you ache.

   How long have you felt so lukewarm, so overlooked and forgotten? Too long, far too long. Now, with Tamaki looking down at you like you're priceless, you feel fiery, you feel seen and remembered. 

   Your hands grasp at his wrists, your eyes flick down to his parted lips. You're not sure what you want to happen next, but you want him as close as you can get him.

   "If you let me start, I will not stop." His voice drops and it makes your breath catch. 

   He feels it too, then. 

   Is it the high of what you've just gone through? Is it just your body trauma bonding with the man that just saved you? Or do you really, really want him so bad it hurts? 

   His tone is warning and his eyes are frantic. 

   "Please." Is the only thing that falls from your quivering lips. 

   Consequences be damned, motives especially be damned. You need him, and he needs you. That's enough explanation for tonight. 

   He consumes you much like the villains flames, his lips are on yours almost too fast, his hands are greedy as they hold your face to his. 

   While you feel similar to a lovesick girl getting kissed for the first time, Tamaki feels like a prisoner finally set free. He feels like a lion that was held in a cage and taunted with a piece of meat. He feels like the door has finally been opened, and he can finally sink his teeth in. 

   "I wanna feel you." He brings his mouth away from yours with much reluctance, leaving his forehead pressed against yours. 

   You flounder for a moment, with your mouth feeling dry and your limbs feeling heavy. 

   "Where?" You choke out, searching his face for any tell. 

   "God, everywhere." It's a broken request, said like a secret. 

   "Take it. Whatever you want." Your boldness surprises you both. 

   You're hooked on the exhilaration, you're craving more, you want to feel something. Even after just a walk home and a coffee date, you want to feel it with Tamaki. 

   "Don't give me that…" He shivers as he presses his body against yours, making it very evident how much of an affect you're having on him. 

   "I'll ruin you." He whimpers when you grind back against him, your hands tug at his shirt and you look up at him with wide eyes. 

   "Who said I don't want that?" 

   You both stand there frozen, waiting for the other to move, to prove that this isn't a dream. 

   "Fuck." 

   His hands descend from cradling your face so they can wrap around your neck with the most gentle grip. 

   He watches you intently, feels your breath quicken, cherishing the way you bite your lip when his fingers tighten slightly. 

   Internally, Tamaki is fighting the most challenging battle he's ever had to face. He's had to take on a wide variety of formidable enemies, but right now, nothing seems more formidable than having to hold himself back when he finally has you in his arms. 

   He wants to take and take and take, for as long as you'll let him… maybe even longer. 

   She's mine now.

   Something shifts in his gaze just then, making him look almost primal. It makes your chest feel frozen, makes it difficult to breathe or focus. 

   His hands shift around your neck, they feel almost… slippery? Their texture is different, their movement is more fluid. Then, you feel it, the distinct sensation of a suction cup latching against your skin. 

   Tentacles. He's made each of his fingers a tentacle.

   Your eyes stay locked on his, both of you in a heated trance as you watch how the other responds. 

   One slick tendril crawls up to latch onto your chin, he turns your head upwards and to the side with a thoughtful look. It's almost like he's sizing you up, appraising you. 

   After a thick moment of silence, he finally speaks. 

   "I'm going to make you cry." It's a depraved promise, beautifully whispered with no shame. 

   You stand there, held by him, captured by him. You're helplessly entranced, all rational thought is long gone as you reel over the implications of his statement. All you can know for sure, is you want more. 

    Despite every red flag, regardless of any common sense, you want more. 

   "I dare you." You say back to him, the desperation to feel anything other than mundane spurs you onward.

   He receives the words like it's a smack to the face, some shock evident in his eyes. He didn't take you for a brat, but he can certainly roll with it. 

   "You're gonna make this fun for me, aren't you?" He questions, his tentacles grip you tighter now, reminding you who has the high ground. 

   Mine. 

   The air shifts, something heavier takes over the mood, it settles in your ribs and wraps around your heart. 

   He guides you away from the wall, shepherding you around until your back is towards your bed. He starts walking you backwards until your knees buckle once they hit the mattress. 

   You sit there, gazing up at him, held still by his quirk, transfixed by the power he exudes as he towers over you. 

   "Has anyone ever had you before?" He asks, finally returning his hand to normal so he can cradle your cheek. 

   The question has your stomach burning with nerves. 

   No, nobody ever has. 

   You shake your head, looking down, cheeks burning as you try to hide your embarrassment. 

   His reaction shocks you immensely, his whole body shutters and he drops to his knees. His hands settle on your waist as he moves between your legs. 

   "Th-this is… all mine then?" He asks, he rubs his thumbs over the bottoms of your ribs affectionately. 

   His eyes are wide and reverent as he waits for your answer, looking like you're some anointed goddess. His eyes skate over every feature he can, and he cherishes each one. 

   Your confession nearly knocks the wind out of him, especially with how sweet you look, all blushing and embarrassed. It makes his need to rip you apart even stronger. 

   "Please...let me give you everything…" His hands tighten on you and you feel them shaking.

   You study him for a second, at a complete loss for words, he seems so… devoted. It pulls on your heart, clouds your mind and lights your body up. How could you possibly say no to him? How on earth could you turn someone away when they’re looking at you like you’re placed on an altar ready to be worshiped. 

   Carefully, like you’re trying not to frighten a beast, you reach out and touch his face. He moves into your touch like a lonely cat, desperate for affection and recognition. 

   “Please…” You breathe. 

   And that’s all it takes. 

   His breath leaves his lungs in a harsh rush as he moves forward like a leopard, lean and precise as he forces you onto your back. 

   Your blood rushes so quickly you swear you can hear it, your mouth goes dry as he stares you down. He’s suddenly less reverent, now he’s ravenous. A dangerous, carnivorous look dances in his dark eyes. His judgement is clouded just like yours, only it fuels him, while your state is much more terrified. Any spunk you had in you is thrown out the window as he leers over you.

   You shrink into the mattress as he hovers above you on all fours, heavy eyelids and parted lips giving him a nearly drugged look. 

   “When you say everything-” He whispers, moving so he can settle on his knees between your open legs, “Do you mean this too?” He drops his hips as he questions you, pressing something very hard into your thigh, something very intimidating. 

   He watches your eyes go wide, a wicked grin spreading across his face when you gasp after he rolls his hips. His arms cage you, a strong hand placed on either side of your head, the position makes you feel so pathetic, so helpless, but it gives you an incredible rush. 

   “Don’t look so scared, it won’t hurt.” He dips down to press his hot, open mouth against your neck, tongue lapping at your pulse. A dark chuckle leaves his chest, “Not much, at least.” 

   Then he’s definitely less reverent, he’s no longer worshipful, he’s a wicked, unleashed best. His hands are selfish as they remove your clothes, his mouth is voracious against your skin. He has you panting and twitching in seconds, musing at you when your reactions are particularly strong. 

   It’s when he snakes down your body, wetting your skin with his tongue, settling between your breasts so he can suck harshly at the heated skin, that you finally feel something break within you. You arch into his touch, fisting your hands in his raven hair, whimpering so beautifully for him as he works you up. 

   He knows what he’s doing, he’s skilled, well equipped for pulling you apart. He’s already descended into some debauched state of being, and he’s pulling you down with him. 

   “Nobody’s ever tasted this sweet little cunt before, have they?” He asks against your skin, latching his mouth back to the spot he’s focused on marking, but looking up at you with inquiring eyes. 

   You try to swallow, shake your head, do something, but all you can do is lay there naked and gasping.

   He laughs again, a wicked thing that leaves his chest like a wisp of wind. He slides a hand up your body, he flicks over your nipple with his thumb on the way up, pulling another whimper out of you. 

   His hand latches onto your jaw, then he shakes your head for you, doing what he knows you can’t. 

   “Oh baby…” He sighs, “You saved it for me?” He teases, hips grinding against you, the cloth of his pants creates a strange kind of friction against your clit, not unpleasant, but not pleasurable. Where the hell did the sweet, stuttering hero go? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks deviant… almost villainous.

   “Tama- please.” You shiver, not sure what you’re asking for, but certain that you need more. 

   “Good girl, talk to me.” His hand slinks down your throat before he rises to his knees. 

   Your eyes lock on the tightness of his pants, trying not to panic at the sheer size of the imprint he’s making on them. 

   His shirt is pulled over his head, messing his hair in the most handsome way, and the breath is ripped from your lungs. 

   He’s stunning, broad and strong looking. He’s all porcelain skin over well trained muscle. Built perfectly for the work he does. Built perfectly for ripping apart poor little girls like you. 

   “I liked the look you got when I had my tentacles on you.” He sighs, letting a hand fall to your bare stomach so he can trace lazy circles against you. 

   “Did you like that? Do you want me to use my tentacles to play with you?” He questions. 

   His voice is low, it’s rich and warm and dripping with seduction. Nothing like the tentative, wobbly tone he usually has. It rips the ground out from underneath you, leaves you panting and blinking like a brain dead fool as you gawk up at his prowling form. 

   “Just a yes or no, if you can manage it.” He smiles sweetly up at you, splaying his hand across your quaking abdomen. 

   You breathe deeply, trying to steady yourself, trying to catch up with what he’s said. 

   “Y-yes.” You whisper, barely audible, hardly heard over your labored breathing. 

   His other hand mirrors the one he has on you, sliding around to hold you by the waist, a gentle cage meant to establish dominance. 

   “Yes… what?” He prompts, pressing his thumbs down. 

   You falter then, your tongue feels heavy, your mind slows and you’re suddenly void of all vocabulary. Were you really really about to let one of the most well known pros wreck your body with his quirk? Were you actually laid out for him like this? You know so little of him, your only information gathered from small talk, but something about that had you buzzing. 

   You could be whoever you want to be, you don’t have to be the floundering virgin. You don’t have to be so damn shell shocked. 

   “Yes, D-daddy.” You test, hoping to God or whoever is listening that you got the right name. 

   By the way his eyes flutter closed, the way his grip tightens, the way his body tenses, you sure as hell did. 

   “That’s it.” He sighs, “-and what about you?” He wonders, his hold going gentle again. 

   You? What about you? 

   Tamaki watches you carefully, barely containing the raging storm inside him, barely holding back the carnal urge to turn every limb to a pretty purple tentacle and stuff you until you’re crying for mercy. 

   Not yet, don’t fuck this up. 

   “Princess? Darling?” He asks, lowering himself back down to kiss down your stomach, looking up at you through his thick lashes. 

   “Whatever you want.” You answer. Your sweet, sacred submission makes him close his eyes and breathe in. 

   Hold it. Not. Yet.

   “You’re like an angel.” He breathes, making you shiver under the weight of the high praise. 

   He notices your reaction immediately, smiling to himself. 

   “So that’s it.” He presses a long kiss just under your belly button, bringing attention to how naked you are, and how naked he is not. 

   Your thighs squeeze together and your arms come up to cover your chest, suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to keep it all out of view. 

   His hands are on your wrist and his body is crouched over yours again before you can blink. He pins your hands beside your head, looking down at you with some wild, unbridled kind of look in his eyes. 

   “You do not get to hide from me.” His shoulders flex as he pushes your wrists down into the mattress, earning a whine from you as the pressure starts to ache. 

   “You’re mine. That means I get all of you.” He bites the words off, but keeps his voice quiet. 

   You should be scared, crying even, but the only thing you feel is exhilaration, the ache between your legs and the fluttering of your heart as he overpowers you with just the look in his eyes and a few harsh words. 

   “Do you understand me?” He eases up on your wrists slightly, looking more stern, less unhinged. 

   “I-I do, I’m sorry.” You whimper out. 

   He considers you for a brief second, eyes growing softer as he watches the way your pretty lip trembles. 

   “It’s ok.” He releases your wrists and speaks gently, “You’re ok.” 

   The reassurances makes you dizzy, especially in contrast with how rough he just was. 

   "Hold still for me, angel." Then he’s back to mouthing at your skin.

   His teeth meet your collarbone and your hands reach for his messy hair. 

   “There?” He asks against you, a smile in his voice as he lets his teeth gather your skin again. The spot he finds makes you dizzy, you feel the heat spread across your cheeks and the tips of your ears. 

   Tamaki is still stuck in his own chains, fighting against them as he focuses on the way you twitch for him, the way your body rolls when he bites harder. 

   So she likes it.

   Your body heats up, it's all so overwhelming. It's so different from anything you've ever felt, and you can't believe it's with him. 

    Then his kisses get more sloppy, his teeth are sharper against you. He leaves you shining with his spit, painted in blooming purple and red bruises as he begins his journey down your body. 

   "Da-addy." You sniffle when he bites into the underside of your breast. 

   It doesn't feel loving, it doesn't feel passionate, it just feels rough. 

   "Hush." He mumbles against you, "If you can't take this I might as well stop now." He looks up at you, challenging you. 

   "I can t-take it, I can." You breathe, nodding, looking at him with begging eyes, "Please, don't stop." 

   He honest to god growls against you. You couldn't possibly know what you do to him, how sweet your willingness sounds, how beautiful you look laid out for him. He knows he should take his time, and he resents that fact. He almost resents you for being so sweet and needy. With all the things he wants to do to you, he almost, almost, wishes you had at least some experience. This makes you his completely, though, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything. 

   His hot mouth moves lower and lower until he's tonguing at your hip bone, pulling the skin into his mouth so he can work his teeth against it. He will mark you wherever he can, as long as you'll let him. 

   Your hips roll up against him, making him smirk at how needy you're acting. 

   "Ask for it." He whispers, hungry hands slide up the outsides of your thighs, "Ask for what you want." 

   His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, sending the breath from your lungs as he glares up at you. He lets his wet tongue loll out to give a teasing flick against the crux of your thigh. 

   You take a deep breath in and cling to the sheets for dear life, "Please, use your mouth on me." 

   He smiles so sweetly then, looking mildly amused. 

   "Here?" He goes back to that same spot, sucking and teasing, looking all too pleased with himself. 

   "Be specific, angel, tell me where you need me." 

   Tamaki knows for a fact that he didn't have to spend his time making you ask for things, he knows what you want, he knows how to give them to you. He could take whatever he needs, probably without much a fight from you, but what fun would that be? He would miss the pretty blush creeping across your skin, and the sweet little tears in your big eyes. No, he wouldn't be missing this, not for the world. 

    "I wanna feel your tongue, please, use your mouth on m-my cunt." You shiver, timid and uncertain about your phrasing. 

   It seems to do the trick though, because Tamaki's eyes nearly roll to the back of his head. 

   He answers with a low moan before grabbing you by the insides of your thighs so he can spread you open. Once the air of the room hits you, you're made painfully aware of just how soaked you are. 

   It makes Tamaki look like a wild man, all blown out pupils blushing cheeks. 

   Almost in slow motion, he presses his tongue into the spot right above your clit, making you whine and buck against his mouth. 

   "Needy little thing." He says, giving your thighs a gentle squeeze, "But I suppose I have teased enough." 

   Then he's on you, and the second his tongue meets your weak spot you know you're ruined. You know that not one person will ever hold a candle to Tamaki Amajiki. 

   He pulls away for only a second, just to whisper praises up to you, "Your cunt tastes like everything I've ever needed." 

   You huff at him in disbelief, not knowing what to say or do, heart soaring because of his confession.

   Then he dives back in, and he gets sloppy with it, setting a pace that feels so good it aches. The heat spreads through every limb, and settles somewhere deep in your chest. Everything tingles and burns, and breathing seems nearly impossible. 

   Internally, Tamaki is raging. He’s so close to losing it, he feels himself slipping, your taste spreads across his tongue is the culmination of months of watching and waiting and wanting. He wants to drown in you, he wants to rip you to shreds. No more watching you through windows, no more fucking his fist while he wishes with everything he has that it was your precious little pussy. He has you now, spread open and vulnerable. He knows he could shove your face into the pillows and let loose on you, stuff every hole with an invasive tentacle, the thought makes him even more feral, it makes him work even harder as he eats you. 

   Every roll of his tongue against your clit makes you throb and buck, which makes him growl and push you down against the mattress. He's loud and messy, slurping and moaning, letting it drip down his chin and his throat, never once letting up. 

   Your head is thrown back against the pillows, eyes drilled shut. You know damn well if you saw him, you wouldn't last another second. He builds you up until your thighs are trembling and you're a whiny little mess. 

   Perfect. 

   Suddenly, the texture of his tongue changes drastically. It's much more slippery, and much thicker. Your head shoots up, and you nearly sob at what you see. Tamaki, with his eyes wild and his jaw dropped, is letting a wicked looking tentacle hang from his mouth. 

   His quirk. 

   He smirks up at you as the tip of it writhes against your clit, flicking and circling as he watches the tears start to fall from your face. You can't possibly keep up, you didn't know anything could ever feel this good. 

   You watch the suction cups ripple as he moves the muscle against you, then he does the unthinkable. He latches one of them onto your clit. Your eyes cross and you bring a fist to your mouth so you can bite on it and muffle your screams. 

   He hates that. 

   With another rumbling growl, he lets his hands turn to tentacles as well. You watch helplessly as he snakes them up your arms, ripping your hand away from your mouth so he can pin both limbs to the bed. The tentacles are strong, surprisingly warm, and so damn slippery. 

   It's hard to tell if you're close to the edge, it's felt that way the whole time, everything feels so hot and tight and good. 

   He smiles as you cry out and thrash against the bed, full of admiration for the usefulness of his own quirk.

   “Too much! D-daddy, it’s too much.” You sniffle out as you feel a stinging feeling in your cunt, it’s not necessarily an unpleasant sting, but it’s too much.

   He ignores your objection, choosing to simply suck harder at your overstimulated sweet spot. He revels in your pitifully low threshold, planning to do so much worse to your poor, inexperienced body. 

   The ache in your cunt continues to push the tears from your eyes, and eventually, drool from your mouth. The suction cup works dutifully against your clit, making you feel so overwhelmed you don't know if you can cum. 

   Then you feel the prodding at your entrance. 

   Then you really scream. 

   Holding that one little suction cup to your clit, he snakes the tip of his tentacle into your dribbling hole. He furrows his dark brows and moans against you when he feels how tight you are, desperate to feel the velvety walls around his cock.

   "Holy fucking shit." You gasp. 

   He watches the dramatic rise and fall of your quaking chest, your baffled eyes trying to keep track of everything happening to your body, and he swears he falls even more in love. 

   You're so willing, so compliant, so at his mercy. 

   He crooks the tip of the tentacle towards himself just a bit, and it's like you've been struck by lightning. You cum hard, harder than you ever have. You're a mess of twitching limbs, shivering as your cunt clenches so hard your feel it in your fucking chest. You sob into the air, broken and tearful as he works you through it. 

   You feel the hold on your arms tighten as your body arches away from the mattress. As you feel every inch of you ignite, you know that you're ruined for everyone else. 

   As soon as you lower yourself so you're flat to the mattress, the tentacles around your arms slip away and turn back into his hands. 

   The one between your legs still plays with you a little bit, prodding at your clit, lapping up your mess. Tamaki laughs as you jump and twitch, whimpering and gasping as he milks your body for every after shock you can give him. 

   You watch him pull the tentacle back into his mouth, flicking it over his lips to gather your release before disappearing into his mouth. You watch his eyes flutter shut, you watch him shiver and you hear the sweetest little moan in the back of his throat. 

   “You’re pretty when you cry.” He mumbles, looking up at you with the most tender look in his eyes. It’s a harsh contrast with all the cum dripping down his chin. 

   “You move a lot, too. It’s fun.” He states, almost like some kind of twisted review, “I don’t mind holding you down like that.” 

   The drop in the tone of his voice makes a chill creep up your spine. 

   “In fact…” He lifts himself up so he can start to crawl up your body, “I really, really enjoyed it.”

   You gasp for words, wind stolen from your lungs as he presses his messy mouth against your sternum. 

   “Something tells me you did too.” He whispers. 

   Your voice is finally found, somewhere deep in your chest, hidden and nearly forgotten, “What makes you say that?” You ask timidly. 

   He pulls his head up to look down at you with a confident smirk, “The mess you made.” 

   To prove his point, he swipes two fingers through your folds, gathering your creamy release before holding it up to the light. He looks so damn proud, like he’s showing off. 

   “Messy girl.” He smiles, as you watch him bring his coated fingers to his lips, sucking the sin off with a greedy pop from his lips. 

   “Oh, how selfish of me.” He sighs before grabbing you by the chin, “I should share.” 

   He pulls your mouth open then slowly leans over you so he can push the mess back through his lips. You oblige like a robot, stunned by the debauchery, letting him guide you through this act. He lets it fall from his lips slowly, creating a long string from his mouth to yours. The second it hits your tongue, something clicks for you. Something dark and smokey settles in your gut, something all consuming and blinding. It rids you of boundaries and reservations, it fills you with nothing but the man in front of you. 

   He watches you with a pointed gaze, shutting your jaw for you so you can swallow what he gave you. 

   “What do you say?” He asks. 

   You feel the burn in your chest, the embers in your skin, “More, please.” 

   “Fucking hell," The words tumble out as a breath mostly, "You want more?" He questions, grabbing you by the wrist so he can place your palm just above the waist of his pants. 

   You nod up at him, vision blurred by the heat of his skin against your palm. 

   "Then take it." He leans down to say it, biting off the words. 

   A challenge. 

   You can't possibly disappoint him, you can't possibly leave him wanting. Take it? How are you supposed to take it? 

   In a wild moment of confidence, mostly your body moving without the permission of your mind, you wrap your legs around his lean hips so you can flip him onto his back. 

   Your eyes lock the second you feel him pressing against you, hard and thick, and terribly intimidating in length. 

   He watches you for a moment, then hastily grabs you by the back of the neck so he can pull you down for another kiss. It's hot and needy, full of wicked want and unabashed selfishness. It tickles your ribs, creeps up your neck, and secures itself greedily around all of your common sense. 

   Tamaki had no intentions of letting you take anything, it's a game to him. He'll let you have your moment, let you feel like you have the reigns, but he'll take it right back. His has you under control, he vows that he always will.

   Your chest flutters with a clawing, aching feeling. 

   More more more. 

   "Fuck me." It's a prayer, whimpered against his delicate lips, "Please, fuck me." You dig your hands into his hair, cherishing the sweet noises they leave him as you beg. 

   Under control.

   "Tell me you need it." He sighs, answering your prayer by sending his hands down to work urgently at his belt. 

   "Tell me you need me." 

   You bring your face back from his just enough to look into his dark eyes, and you see tears welling in them. 

   He needs to feel needed.

   "Please, I need it, I need you, Suneater." 

   Everything freezes for a brief second, the air thickens and his eyes darken as you wait with a held breath for his next move. 

   Then, everything is flying around you. You feel the bite of fingertips against your waist, your stomach hits the mattress, possibly the sound of his pants being taken off. Your senses are dulled by the raging swirl of emotions beating inside you as your hips are lifted up, and a hand shoves your face into the pillow. 

   "Who's your hero?" His voice is rough, his hand gathers your hair and cranks your head to the side, "Who is your fucking hero?" He's barking the words out now, harsh and demanding. 

   And holy hell does it get you going. 

   "You are! You're my hero, Suneater." You cry out, craning your neck to look at him. 

   You expected furrowed brows, a straight mouth and furious eyes. What you're met with is nothing of the sort. A soft pink blush across his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears, tears wetting his cheek, and a quivering lip. 

   With your eyes on him, he makes a show of sliding his hand down his front so he can grab at his length. He lets it fall against your ass, heavy and painfully hard. 

   "Don't forget that." He says simply, sliding his thick head down through your slicked lips. 

   The contact makes you both shudder deep in your souls. 

   "Daddy, please." Your voice is pitiful as you fist the sheets and press back against him. 

   "So slutty." He muses, releasing your hair so he can run his nails down your back, "Poor thing, never been fucked, needs it so bad, doesn't she?" 

   You nod fervently and fuss as he presses his head against your tight hole. You tense and shiver, not at all prepared for what's to come. 

   "I need it, I need you, please please please." You have one thought now, no reservations, you need him. 

   "I'm gonna ruin this little cunt." He says, a warning tone in his voice. 

   The hand that was tracing your spine suddenly feels very cold and wet. 

   His damn quirk. 

   He takes his time, letting the thick tentacle slither around your waist. It wraps around you twice, teasing you with the pops of the suction cups, leaving pretty purple circles all over your abdomen. 

   He lifts you easily, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest. 

   "Ruin it, please, it's yours, I'm yours." You sniffle, looking down at your trapped position. 

   With a low, menacing growl, he sinks his teeth into your neck, and his cock into your heat. 

   Tamaki holds his breath, willing himself not to fill you up right this second. You're too damn tight, so warm and velvety. You're so perfect, and so completely his. 

   You sob into the air, hands reaching out to hold the headboard as you feel like you're being ripped apart. 

   "Oh don't scream, Angel, people might think something's wrong." His voice is shaking now, and the hold on your waist tightens. 

   You focus on relaxing, letting your walls lose their tension, but it's all fruitless. He's too big, he fills you too well, and all you can do is take it. 

   "Here, let me give that mouth something to do." 

   His other hand comes around to hold your throat, turning each finger into a tentacle again. It leaves you reeling and gasping as he presses further into you, wrapping what would be his middle finger around your throat. He wraps it around twice, like he did with your waist. The appendage comes up to rest its tip on your bottom lip. 

   The sensation makes you dizzy, especially when it finally snakes into your panting mouth. It doesn't really taste like anything, it just feels wet and slick, the texture of the suction cups is the strangest thing about it. He rocks his hips so gently, squeezing you tighter everywhere he's holding you. 

   You don't feel like a moth drawn to a flame, you feel like a moth caught in a spider's web. All tangled up, not willing to fight to escape, not even wanting to. 

   "You're so damn tight." He stutters out, pressing his hips flush against your own. 

   You cry out and gag against the tentacle stuffing your mouth, digging your nails into the headboard as he chuckles behind you. 

   "You're such a pretty little mess for me. Your cunt's already dripping." 

   You don't doubt it, it has to be with how badly your core aches around him as he stretches you. 

   Your thighs start to tremble as you wait for him to move, sniffling as the tears fall from your eyes and the drool spills from your lips. 

   A pretty little mess indeed. 

   Slowly, he drags his hips back with a hiss before pushing back in. He takes his time with it, building an agonizing pace that offers you no release. There's only the pressure, only your clit screaming for attention, only the maddening tease of his head against your sweet spot with every torturous push in. 

   "Fuck angel, I gotta break this pussy in, don't I?" His words pull another pitiful moan from you, nodding and whining is all you're capable of. 

   His picks up speed just enough to make you tense even more, still painful, still mind numbing. 

   "You look so fucking pretty on the end of my cock." 

   His words pour over you like hot wax, heating you up, making you drip. The heat seeps deep into your skin, making you squirm and clench. 

   He speeds his thrusting up slightly, then more, and more, and more, until you’re shrieking and choking against the tentacle stuffing your mouth. Your hands fly up to claw at it, wanting to tell him how it feels, wanting to thank him for the way he’s fucking you. 

   It’s still painful, each thrust splits you open with a sting, but it’s so damn good. The sharp stretching is absolutely spectacular, and it sends your brain into somewhere dark and smokey, it leaves you with a wide open feeling in your chest. It leaves you wanting more. 

   “What’s the matter, sweet thing?” He taunts, “Tell me about it, then, how’s Daddy make you feel?” He turns each tentacle back into a finger slowly, pulling out of your mouth, leaving you a gasping mess. 

   Through spit and tears, you praise him, words spewing out between moans as your body jolts from each punishing snap of his hips. 

   “So fucking good! You make me feel so good!” You cry, clinging to his forearm as he brings you closer to his chest. 

   The tentacle around your waist starts to slither down your stomach, “This isn’t even half of what I’m capable of doing to you,” The tip of it gives the hood of your clit a teasing flick, “-and you’re already such a slut for me.” His chuckle is dark and full as the tip of his skilled tentacle zeros in on your sweet spot, rubbing and wriggling against it until you’re screaming. 

   “Say it. Say you’re my little slut.” His words are a harsh demand against your ear, leaving no room for disobedience. 

   “I- f-fuck- I can’t! I ca-an’t!” You sob, not able to catch your breath between thrusts. 

   Tamaki eats that right up, swelling with pride as he fucks you speechless, delirious with the fact that he finally has your cunt gripping his cock. 

   Before he can bark another order at you, you finally pull the words out of your closing throat, "I'm your slut," You gasp as drool rolls down your chin, "I'm your little slut." 

   He throws his head back and throws everything he has into every thrust, his moans are obscene, high pitched and broken as he feels how hard you squeeze him when he speeds up the tip of his tentacle against your clit. 

   "Give it to me, I feel that greedy cunt tryin' to milk me, give me that fuckin cum." He huffs against your ear. Your entire body seizes up, shaking violently as ribbons of pleasure shoot through you. You pulse around Tamaki almost violently, earning some very rough sounding moans from him as he works you through it. 

   Your orgasm lasts for what feels like an eternity, you shiver with every throb of your walls. It possesses that same almost painful pleasure, and it's everything you've ever wanted. At some point, the tentacle around your waist turns to a hand, still absentmindedly rubbing you as you come down. 

   He lets your torso fall forward, leaving you bent over and exposed for him. His hands smooth over your ass, and you realize he's still so fucking hard. 

   "Can you take more, angel?"

   You nod against the tear soaked pillow you've pressed your face into, not sure that you even can, but willing to try. 

   "Good," He bends down to press kisses into your spine as he pulls out, "'Cause you're going to." 

   He pulls out, almost full of regret, wanting to live the rest of his life buried inside you.

   Now he can have some fun, mind cleared slightly by finally feeling you come undone around him. He's still hazy, still slightly frenzied, but less ravenous, less of a starved man waiting for his meal, more of a well fed man waiting for desert. 

   His hands hold your waist gently so he can guide you onto your back. You oblige, more than willing to let him have his way. 

   You finally get a good look at him, and you're astounded by just how pretty his dick looks. All pale and pink, swollen and shiny, it makes you dizzy with admiration. 

   "You're terribly beautiful." He whispers, cradling your waist so he can worship your stomach with soft kisses, "I don't believe you're even real." 

   Sweetness oozes through your tingling limbs, pouring over you like warm honey. His tender mouth brings you back down, soothes you into a state of catharsis. Your body settles, but your heart picks back up when his lips are on your hips. 

   Your eyes meet his, and you share the sentiment that he just might not be real. He pears up at you through a mess of indigo hair, eyes full of what you can only describe as devotion. 

   He explores your body with his hands, dipping his thumbs into every crook he can, palming handfuls of your plush thighs. He seems to have a soft spot for your hips though, pulling at your love handles, letting his breath speed up each time until he's panting against you. 

   With every pull of his hands, you bend for him, push into him, work with him. You both find a rhythm, falling into an easy dance of grabbing and needing. 

   "I want to keep you." He breathes, placing a hand on either side of your waist so he can lift himself over you, "I want to have you." 

   He gathers your legs while he speaks, hooking his hands under your knees so he can fold you up. 

   "You have me." You whisper, reaching out to lay your fingers on the sides of his ribs. 

   You watch his skin twitch under your touch, you watch his eyebrows sag into an almost heartbroken look. 

   He looks down between your bodies, quivering when he sees his heavy cock resting against your stomach. He feels so incredibly proud of you in that moment, for taking him so well, and asking for more. 

   She's mine. She said I have her. 

   The concept brings another wave of primal desire crashing down on his self control. 

   His fingers dig into your skin, biting at the flesh, spreading you open for him as he puts his weight on your legs. 

   You clench in anticipation, teased by the pressure of his hot length resting against you. 

   "I can take it." You say quietly, sliding your hands up his lean body so you can lace them into his inky hair. 

   He melts into your touch, stunned by your gorgeous submission. 

   "Fuck, angel." His words are shattered as they fall from his lips. 

   You reach down between your bodies and wrap your hand around his weeping tip. He trembles and hiccups as you push him down so he's lined up with where you need him. 

   "Please, I want all of it." m. 

   “Careful.” He pants, looking down at you with a warning in his eyes. 

   It doesn’t create hesitation in you though, only curiosity. 

   “We’re being careful now?” You tease, sliding him up and down your slit. 

   “You little devil.” He hisses, grabbing your wrist harshly, “You think you’re cute, don’t you?” 

   You freeze and blink up at him, once again shocked by his quick change in temperament. 

   “You wanna act like a tease now?” He questions, bringing your hand up so he can press it into the mattress with his. 

   “Did you find yourself a cute little attitude?” His voice drips with venom, it bites at your insides and melts your skin. 

   “That’s ok, angel.” He lets your hand go so he can press on the backs of your thighs again, successfully folding you completely in half, “I’ll fuck it out of you.” 

   Before you can breathe, blink, or respond, he’s splitting you open with a brutal pace. He laughs deep in his chest when you cry out, he mocks you when your hands fly to his abs in an attempt to slow his assault. A wicked smile spreads across his pretty face when tears stain your flushed cheeks once again. 

   “Cryin’ again so soon? Is it too much, baby? You need Daddy to slow down?” He’s testing you, only thrusting harder as he taunts you for your sobbing and moaning. 

   “No!” You gasp between tears, “Don’t stop, please, fuck me like that.” 

   “That’s my girl.” 

   His thrusts are ruthless, sharp, unforgiving. He rocks your body and the bed with each plunge in, headboard crashing against the wall. Each drive into you is enchanting, it teaches you something new, opens new doors, shows you a new, brilliant world of depravity. The way the pleasure shoots all the way up your spine with every drag of his cock, it’s something you want to feel until you die, you’d even be happy if this is the way you die. 

   You watch him disappear inside of you over and over, pulling out just as quick, covered in slick and sin. Tamaki is in his own feral world, watching your lovely face crumble and pout as he fills you. His hands are angry against the back of your thighs, nails digging in hard enough to bring little pearls of scarlet to the surface. 

   When you start to whine from the sting, he flashes you a lazy smile before stuffing his fingers into your mouth. He presses the blood covered fingertips into your tongue just enough to make drool spill from the sides of your mouth. 

   “Hush, you’ll learn to love it.”

   His smile turns wolfish when he watches your eyes roll back. It’s all so black-hearted, it’s everything you’ve kept yourself from, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. 

   You both throb and cry then, your bodies smack as they meet, obscene and wet as you chase your undoing. Tamaki knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he curses himself for it. He doesn’t want to stop, especially when you wince so sweetly when his thrusts are a little too deep. He wants to watch you suck his fingers forever, crying against his palm as he turns you into his perfect little slut. 

   “You’re gonna give me one more, aren’t you, angel? You owe me that, I saved your life after all.” He slides his fingers from your mouth, dragging your spit down your chin before grabbing you by the throat, “Answer if you can, I know it must be hard to speak when you’re getting fucked this good.” 

   His words drown you in lust, your hands claw at his back, painting angry red lines down the pretty porcelain canvas, “Take it! Fuck- Take it, Suneater, take it all.” 

   It’s not a demand, it’s a plea, it’s a craving formed deep within your freshly corrupted heart. 

   Your begging pulls desperate, whiny sounds from him. With his eyes screwed shut he lets the hand on your thigh manifest the tentacles in place of his fingers. He throws all of his energy into that, trying to stall the twitching of his dick as your hot insides massage him with their relentless pulsing.   

   “Are you sure about that?” He tests, letting the tentacles snake around your thigh before slithering down to where your bodies meet. 

   Immediately, one starts flicking at your clit, making your back go rigid as he grins down at his good work. 

   You wail his name, nails biting at his skin even more but he pays no mind. He has a mission, he’s going to take all of it. 

   He focuses on making his tentacles grow, two long enough to reach up your body and tug at your nipples, and one other snaking down through the mess you’re making to prod at your asshole. Your eyes widen with shock as your body ignites, it’s too much, it’s all too much. Every sensation is heightened, every poke and flick and thrust sends shards of pleasure flying through you, piercing you from every direction. 

   You let yourself cry completely then, throwing your head against Tamaki’s collar bone before sobbing into his chest. You know you’re cumming, you can feel it somewhere amongst all the other stimulation, but it’s nearly drowned out, and Tamaki is still fucking you just as hard as he was when this all started. 

   “More, you have more for me, I fucking know it.” He huffs as he finally pushes into your ass with the tentacle. 

   The ones on your nipples latch on with their suction cups as he fills you more and more. 

   “Give it to me, angel, give it all to your hero.” 

   That’s the final push, the last thing you need to send you into the most frenzied orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Your vision goes white as your body convulses, ripped apart by the flames of euphoria that turn everything you’ve ever known to ash. Somewhere in the distance you hear Tamaki praising you, telling you how tight you feel, how beautiful you look, how good you are for him. 

   It’s lost in the fray, though, all blurring together as you shake violently around him. The only thing that brings you back slightly, is the break in his voice when he sobs, “I’m gonna stuff that little cunt with my cum, I’m gonna make you mine.”

   Your hand is at the back of his neck instantly, pulling him down for a messy, aimless kiss. His moans spill into your mouth as his hips falter, turning to slow, stuttering thrusts as he starts to pump his release deep into you. 

   “I’m yours - I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours.” You chant it against his lips as his tears fall to your cheeks, mixing with your own as you both shatter for each other.

   Coming back down isn't easy at all. It's slow and needy, your hands still pulling at whatever skin they can grab, hips rolling against each other, trying with everything you both have to prolong that rapturous feeling. 

   Frantically, painfully, he pulls himself out of you. He slides his hot mouth down your body, nipping and sucking as he descends to your messy cunt. He spreads your legs wide so he can bury his face between them. He teases your clit briefly, but moves quickly to press his open mouth against your hole.

   Your skin boils as you watch the nasty show. His eyes cross sinfully and flutter shut as he tongue at your well used pussy. When he pulls back, his chin is covered in some wretched mixture of your combined releases. He moves back up your body like an animal stalking its prey.

   He grabs your jaw and you open so willingly. His mouth is on yours instantly, pushing the warm liquid onto your tongue with his own. It’s a spunky, intense flavor, almost overwhelming as he spreads it around your mouth. It creates a dark, blurry feeling in your chest, though. It makes you feel alive, it makes you want more.

   He pulls back slowly, a thick string of saliva and sin connecting your lips as he pants down at you. 

   “You’re such a good little girl.” 

   His lips are everywhere, pressing against your cheekbones, your nose, your forehead. His hands return to normal so he can cradle your face. You both lay there, still joined, catching your breath. 

   "Angel?" 

   The tenderness in his voice pulls you back down to earth, and when you open your eyes, you find yourself lost in his. It’s a harsh but marvelous contrast with the sharp edges of his previous behavior.

   "Does anything h-hurt?" He asks timidly. 

   The stutter is back, the anxious look in his eyes, the restlessness in his hands. 

   You reach out to hold his face like he's holding yours, "Tamaki, no, nothing hurts. You made me feel so good." 

   You don't ever want to be a source of hesitation for him again. You want to make it better. He's brilliant, he's brave, he saved your damn life. He doesn't need to be so scared around you. 

   "You're my hero, Suneater." You pull him down for a soft, intimate kiss. 

   He breathes out against you, more of his tears wet your cheeks but you don't mind. 

   He's allowed to feel this, he earned this. 

   When the kiss breaks he searches your face, waiting for you to laugh at him, to push him off, to change your mind. 

   You don't, though. 

   You stay there with him, loving him and full of him. 

   "And you're mine." 

   You both settle there, kissing skin that hasn't been kissed before, finding ways to make each other fall even more. 

   Tamaki tells himself he did the right thing. You don't ever have to know why Dabi chose your house to break into. You don't ever need to be told that he spent endless nights watching you from the window, because he has you know. 

   It would be wrong of him to tell you, you wouldn't understand it. It would break your heart and ruin everything. Then, it would get messy. You might try to run away, and that would mean he'd have to keep you in different ways. 

   He shakes the thoughts from his head. He can keep you like this, laid out and blushing for him, so soft and beautiful. 

   You belong to him now, and that's all that there is. 

   "Can I take care of you?” He asks softly, playing with the necklace he gave you as he gives you a shy glance. 

   “You just did.” You let yourself laugh a little as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

   “No, not like that.” He smiles softly, dipping down to kiss your neck so softly you almost can’t feel it, “Like this.” 

   He presses his lips against a mark you didn’t know he made, lingering for a moment as his eyes flutter shut. 

   “These say that you’re mine.” His thumb traces over one of the circular bruises on your ribs, “They say you have someone protecting you.”

   The prospect makes your heart soar. He’s right, belonging to him means you’ll always be safe, you’ll always have somebody willing to fight for you, maybe even somebody willing to stay with you. 

   “This says that you belong to me.” He loops a finger around the delicate pearl on your necklace, pulling gently, not enough to make you go anywhere, but enough to make you feel the metal tug against the back of your neck. 

   ‘You do belong to me, don’t you.” He asks, a wild, fearful look in his eyes. 

   You do, you just told him so, you just cried to him and vowed that you were his just moments ago. 

   “I do, I belong to you, I swear.” You reassure him, pulling a deep sigh from his chest. 

   You don’t understand the way he aches for you, the way he’s addicted to you. He was already hooked, from just glances and flighty touches. Now, having felt your soft skin, the tuck of your waist, having seen you cry and heard you call his name, he’s willing to admit his obsession. 

   He does take care of you, he does it beautifully. He carries you to the bathroom where he sets you on the edge of the tub. He fills it with warm, soapy water before picking you up bridal style so he can settle into the water with you in his lap. 

   Neither of you bother to turn a light on, content with the glow of the moon shining through the skylight. Tamaki paints your shoulders with soft kisses as he rubs soothing circles into your back. He takes his sweet time, wiping away the sweat and the tears, mindful of the tender spots on the back of your thighs. 

   “Beautiful, you’re so beautiful.” He sighs, “An angel, nothing less.” 

   You melt into him, lost in his praise, blinded by his devotion as well as your own. 

   Tamaki is just as lost, if not more, only becoming more possessive with every gentle touch, with every whispered adoration. 

   This is how it’s meant to be, and you don’t ever need to know how it all fell into place. He did the right thing, after all. This isn’t a problem, he’s in love. He’s in love and now he has you. 

   He intends on keeping it that way.

[lasquadranights]

The Base

Not too long ago, I asked if any would be interested in seeing the houses/bases that I use as the settings for a great deal of the stories published on both my blogs. I received positive responses to this but couldn't figure out how to do it.

Then somebody recommended the Sims 4 and... well, I tried. It's not a game I'm very used to but the building mechanics are actually really nice to use.

Because the La Squadra base is the easier of the two, I built that first. I didn't have all the things I wanted and the game is somewhat limiting so take some of the design with a grain of salt.

Needless to say, it's very image heavy beneath the cut.

***

The Entrance Hall/Main Living Room

Built illegally in a warehouse that fell into disuse after Passione operatives moved to a more occupied areas, the La Squadra team has always used the place as a main base and living area (even if the cracks in the walls and the lack of windows isn't great).

Due to image limitations, I couldn't include the entrance hall but this image is taken when one has just stepped out of it. In the entrance hall, there's some coatracks and a destroyed squeaky cat toy that everybody has stepped on at least once when coming back in the early hours of the morning, giving them a heart attack.

The main living area is connected to a secondary hall on the immediate right and the kitchen. It's quite open and the lack of real items with a high ceiling makes the echo pretty bad.

This area is primarily taken over by Illuso and Formaggio with the largest mirror in the house being found here. The speaker system was a gift to the former and the television stolen by the latter. Though hard to see in this image, the camera on the shelf belongs to Gelato and nobody else, including you, should dare touch it.

Though seating is limited, this room is the best for a nap as the sunlight comes in just right during the day and the couch is incredibly comfortable. After enough complaining, Prosciutto no longer smokes on it so there's no longer the lingering cigarette smell on the cushions.

I couldn't add weapons due to the game but most are found in this room with guns and knives often being tossed on the shelves or leaned behind the punching bag. It took you a while to get used to it but now you hardly notice them anymore.

The entire room does smell vaguely like cat.

The other side of the room features the staircase down to the basement and a small table that originally had no chairs until your insistence on getting some. The fish belongs to Pesci and he's grown quite protective over it after his previous one got eaten. Melone ends up looking after it most of the time while Formaggio will occasionally torment it.

Due to Sims limitations, I couldn't add stains but there is a mysterious one on the floor by the front entrance. You've asked but the others don't share (Gelato's to blame).

***

The Kitchen

The kitchen is one of the brightest rooms in the house due to the low ceiling. It's clean most of the time as it belongs mostly to Prosciutto who uses it frequently (if he didn't cook, he's convinced the others would survive solely on takeout and... well, he isn't wrong). He always keeps a pack of cigarettes behind the coffee machine with a plant that hasn't been watered in years but is somehow still growing.

The tea collection is shared by Sorbet and Risotto. While it's never been said that nobody else can have, the two most intimidating members of the group don't get crossed often. (You sometimes drink Risotto's good tea though when it's late at night and you can't sleep).

The fridge is filled with the most random items you can imagine and half of it is often not food related. You've learned quickly not to touch anything unidentifiable in the freezer.

Most of the alcohol in the house is stored in the cupboard beneath the microwave which doesn't actually open like a dishwasher but for some reason, almost all of the cupboards look similar to that in the game.

The backdoor is heavily blocked off, fortified into its foundations by Metallica. It doesn't open ever.

***

The 'Business Rooms'

This small hallway is rarely entered despite the door mostly standing ajar unless it's to clean the litterbox. The first doorway (not pictured) merely leads to the meeting room where matters of Passione are discussed. The second door goes to Risotto's office.

The meeting room is extremely dark and you find the chairs horribly uncomfortable. They were a gift, Risotto tells you and he goes into no more detail. With nine seats exactly, it's set up for the squad and nobody else, including you. The door is always closed even if somebody is in there.

This is the room you almost never enter.

The mirror on the wall has a large crack running across it and the room is often absolutely bare of any kind of character. It's also horribly cold.

Risotto's office is very secluded and you hate that it has no windows. It's Ghiaccio's least favourite room in the house (apparently it makes him feel extremely claustrophobic). Sorbet and Gelato can both often be found on the couch as they prefer the secluded quiet from time to time and are rarely bothered while there.

There are important documents lying on the desk most of the time and you've accidentally seen more than you wanted to. Risotto wants you to feel at home in his office though and often invites you to sit with him while he's working.

The drawers of his desk are filled with various metal pieces and the small bird skull was a present from Gelato.

***

The Downstairs

Melone has taken over the area directly beside the stairs. His desk and computer are often covered in various notes, papers, and the occasional suspicious medication. You often find Ghiaccio down here when he's tired of the others and wanting to play games on the computer. Despite this, he will complain tirelessly about the area being Melone's.

The small mirror is often used for makeup and otherwise turned away (although you do know Melone will sometimes use it when he wants Illuso to watch). The unusual light was bought by Risotto who couldn't find a place for it in his office.

Behind you when you have this view, the staircase covers the laundry area and yet another mirror and curtain. The doorway in the image leads to the bathroom which is a relatively small room that often results in a great deal of competition. Still, with the schedule, it rarely causes fights and often gives excuses for showers to happen together. To the right, there's another doorway that leads to the bedroom.

The collection of boxes and other mostly unused items sits forgotten in the corner along with a frankly ridiculous amount of dried cat food. There are things in the corner from aborted hobbies, broken equipment that 'will be fixed', and cleaning supplies.

The bedroom was initially quite dim when you arrived although you were quick to fix that with wall lights and the carpet was a joint venture between you and Prosciutto who was tired of the cold floors. The cabinets wrap further around the wall on the right and the bed is obviously larger than normal with room for everybody

The dying plant is Prosciutto's. He really doesn't have a green thumb but he tries. The makeup scattered on the tables and the cabinets is pretty much shared by whoever wants it (there's little exclusivity about anything in the bedroom and clothes are often also shared - especially Risotto and Illuso's big jackets).

There's metal stationary under the couch from Metallica and the little bags of whatever are Melone's. The posters were stuck up by you for a little colour but they're appreciated most by Ghiaccio.

The reason for so many mirrors in the room (two in visible sight of this image, one behind the bed on the left, and another hidden behind the couch) without any curtains to obscure them is the simple idea of an emergency escape. This does mean, however, that Illuso is pretty much always given an uninterrupted view of what happens in this room.

[platypanthewriter]

The Devil Looks After His Own Ch.4

Chapters One | Two | Three

Little Steve Harrington is so lonely he tries summoning a demon with a ritual advertised on TV–but luckily, it doesn’t work, and a  buff, non-human nanny hired by his mom shows up minutes later.  Years  later, they’re best friends, and Steve still doesn’t know the truth.   For @magniloquent-raven​!

Since Steve’s mom and dad had basically stopped doing anything around the house, Steve helped Billy with things like scrubbing the bathroom, and doing laundry, and vacuuming. They listened to music very loud if Steve’s dad wasn’t working, and if he was, they played charades with each other as they worked. That meant Steve sometimes got the parmesan cheese when he wanted the Ajax cleanser, and Billy got Steve yelling and climbing up the furniture, looking for a huge cockroach rat hybrid, when all he wanted Steve to do was move so he could pick up the rug, but it was pretty funny.

“They are paying you, right,” Steve asked one day, as he and Billy laid on the floor of his room, exhausted from scrubbing the entire kitchen after Billy accidentally boiled a pan of chili over the whole stove and proceeded to drop it on the kitchen floor. Steve’s stomach growled—it’d actually smelled pretty good, for something Billy cooked, and he rolled to bury his face in Billy’s shoulder, groaning.

“...I don’t have a lot of use for money,” Billy said thoughtfully. “They’re giving me some, though, yeah.”

“Let’s order pizza,” Steve moaned, stretching. “I mean, if—can you get the money? Do you know how?”

“I have a bank account,” Billy muttered, but from the red his ears had turned, Steve suspected it hadn’t been that easy, at first.

“...do you have a card?” Steve asked, holding his fingers up in a rectangle, and Billy rolled onto his side to tickle him.

“Yes, you little jerk, I have a debit card, and I can get us pizza,” he told Steve, as he giggled and kicked the air.

“You should use it to do things you want,” Steve told him, relaxing into the hug, once he smacked Billy enough times that the tickling stopped. “Buy—things. Things you want. Or—or go somewhere.”

“Where would I wanna go without you?” Billy asked him, laughing, and Steve’s face heated.

He snaked his arms around more of Billy, and squeezed him, sighing contentedly. “...we could go together,” he mumbled. “To—to the, um, like, the water park. Or somewhere. They have slides.”

“Oooo,” Billy said, but it felt like he was laughing.

“They’re really cool,” Steve huffed, and Billy noogied his head.

“What about, like...Disneyland,” he whispered, and Steve’s heart thudded in his chest. “Or like...Hawaii? Is that a thing kids like? Go snorkeling?”

“Holy shit,” Steve muttered, because it seemed like the situation deserved a swear. “C-can you pay for that?! That’s—that’s a plane ticket, Billy—”

“Two of them,” Billy said, and Steve nodded, his heart pounding with excitement, because vacations would be completely different with Billy—Billy wouldn’t leave Steve in the hotel room all day, or expect him to just sit on a bench for hours at the mall.

“I-if you, um, if you want,” he squeaked, and Billy rolled on top of him, squishing him, and being annoying, and saying things like ‘Oh no, gross, did I roll onto a bug?’ “Get off!” Steve yelled, kicking and laughing.

“Too tired,” Billy groaned. “I’m just gonna lay here on this gross bug.”

“I’m not a bug!” Steve yelled back, cackling helplessly, until Billy finally took mercy, scooped him up, and let Steve order pizza with anything he wanted.

It turned out kinda gross, actually, because Steve had ordered everything he hadn’t tried before, but they picked off the fruit and the weird fish.  The fried eggs and sunflower seeds were actually pretty good.

“I didn’t know you were such a good cook,” Billy told him, and Steve kicked his leg, snorting a laugh, as Billy flipped through channels.

He paused on a news show, the news person holding the microphone out to a being that was mostly fire and horns. “What do you think of this talk of requiring a license from both sides to summon demons?”

“It’s ridiculous,” said the guttural voice in flames, and Billy shivered, his face weirdly blank, like he got at the beginning, when Steve ordered him around. “Expecting my people to agree not to tear anyone’s face off, or steal their soul, when they’ve been summoned and enslaved for millenia? Don’t make me laugh.”

Steve slid his hand into Billy’s as the news person interrupted. “Well, it’s supposed to end that—”

“My own son has been missing for nearly a year,” said the harsh voice, and Billy trembled again, lowering his slice of pizza to the plate. “Are you suggesting I report the summoner to the authorities, instead of punishing them for my son’s captivity myself? How would a slap on the wrist help us more?”

“...fuck,” Billy whispered, rubbing his face, and Steve squeezed his hand.

“It stands to reason that if there was oversight on who could summon demons—” the news person persisted, but the fire demon slammed a flaming appendage against the table, and ey jerked back.

“I will burn them from the bones out until their skin cracks off in lumps of char,” said the demon, “—and then I will reclaim my son,” and then the TV clicked off, and Billy was sweating and shaking, tears welling up in his eyes.

Steve dropped his pizza on his plate, sat it aside, and stood up to hug Billy, petting his hair like he was the neighbor’s cat as Billy laughed and shuddered against him. “Billy,” Steve whispered. “Are you a demon?”

“You think I’m like him?” Billy gasped out, his fists tight in Steve’s shirt. “You see him and you—you’re like—that’s Billy,” he choked off, crying, and Steve petted his hair some more, biting his lips, and trying to figure it out.

Before Billy, he’d never thought of teenagers as being just another kind of kid—they’d always seemed basically like grownups—but he was wondering more and more whether teenagers were just children who could drive. Steve wasn’t sure how he felt about that idea, it sounded kind of...bad.

“Do—did you used to summon demons,” he asked, cautiously. “Is—is that why you—is that why you’re magic—is—is—do you know a demon,” he tried, wondering what could have made Billy cry.

“Doesn’t matter,” Billy mumbled, and Steve raised his eyebrows.

“It matters,” he said, but then he felt Billy start to pull away, and hugged him tighter. “But, um. You—you don’t have to...tell me. Okay?”

“...are you serious,” Billy whispered, and Steve nodded, running his fingers through Billy’s curls. Billy sighed, squeezing him back.

“If, um, if you don’t...want to talk about it,” Steve told him, “—um, you—you don’t have to...tell me.”

“...sorry,” Billy sighed. He sounded exhausted. “I just...it’s, um. It’s sort of...safer. If you don’t know.”

“Okay,” Steve told him, wondering. Billy was right, he thought—even if he did have horns, the Billy that swung him around in the air, played LEGO, and bought him weird pizza was nothing like the fire demon that had threatened the news person, which he thought he should probably tell Billy. “You’re not like that,” he said quickly. “He was scary. He wanted to be scary. He wanted to hurt somebody. He...I know you’re not like that. I didn’t—I didn’t mean you were like that.”

Billy nodded, sighing. “I don’t want to be like that.”

“Who would,” Steve wondered, making a face. “What a jerk.”

“...yeah,” Billy said, laughing softly.

“Do you...know him...somehow?” Steve couldn’t help asking. “Is—is that why you yelled at me about demons? When you first came?”

“Demons are dangerous,” Billy bit out, “—and they will kill you. Don’t you fucking dare try that summoning shit again—”

“I wasn’t going to,” Steve said, shaking his head, and trying not to smile, because Billy’d turned to glower at him, wiping his eyes. “I mean it, I won’t—”

“You better not,” Billy growled, his mouth quirking as he slid his hand along the back of the couch to tickle Steve’s side, and Steve yelped.

“I won’t! I won’t, I promise, I won’t!” he yelled, squawking and giggling, and Billy yanked him in close for a hug.

“You’ll get eaten,” Billy said quietly, frowning like he was still worried, and Steve flicked his earring.

“I won’t do it,” he said again. “I won’t. I promise.”

“...okay,” Billy sighed, resting his face against Steve’s hair.

It started to get hot and uncomfortable in Billy’s arms—he was squeezing really tight, and they were both sweaty from cleaning, and Steve was hungry— but he waited, petting Billy’s hair until he let go on his own.

“I promise not to kidnap anyone and get eaten,” Steve muttered into Billy’s curls, sighing, and Billy started snickering, and blew a raspberry on his neck with a loud farty noise. Steve’s dad stomped out of his office and yelled at them to be quiet, and they snuck the pizza into Steve’s room, and had a picnic on the floor.

A couple weeks later, Steve and Billy were leaving the LEGO store at the mall—Steve with his head stuffed with ideas and his hands on the Jungle Raider vehicle he’d finally picked up for his Ninjago set, Billy with the new bonsai tree set, because he and Steve had decided to add it to his house—when they heard screams. Steve was still looking at the cover of the box when he registered Billy shoving him behind Billy’s back, and a woman ran by yelling “Run, get out of here, there’s a man with a gun!”

Steve froze, clutching his Ninjago set, and Billy scooped him up, and frowned back atinto the LEGO store, and then down the corridor of the mall. More people were running by, and some of them were making phone calls, which was good, Steve thought dazedly. He should have thought of that, calling 911, like in a movie.

“Kiddo,” Billy said softly, “—those sets you gave me. They really mine?”

“There’s a man with a gun,” Steve said shakily. “Billy.”

“Yeah,” Billy said, sitting him back down. “And I don’t know where he is, or what’s going on, but if you—” he bit his lip, thinking.

“Billy, can you help?” Steve hissed, wide-eyed. “Don’t get hurt—”

“Pick a set to really never play with again,” Billy said, glancing back into the mall. “You have to—to throw it away, or break it, so nobody can use it again. Can you do that?”

“I can’t break it from here,” Steve whimpered, starting to panic. “I can’t—this one’s too small and dumb, isn’t it, it was only ten dollars—” he held up the Jungle Raider vehicle, his eyes blurring with tears.

“That would work,” Billy said. “You’ve never even gotten to play with it. You can’t just buy it again, though.”

“O-okay,” Steve said, nodding. He lowered it slowly towards the ground, and then jumped and dropped it as they heard a gunshot. He stomped on it a few times. There was a crunch, he flinched, and Billy yanked him into a quick hug, kissing his cheek, and then went all... pretty.

He grew, it seemed like, even from the tall horned man he’d been when he’d come to work naked that first day, and he had muscles everywhere, and Steve tried not to giggle nervously, because Billy was naked again, and Steve could see everything.

“Go hide behind the counter, or in the back, as far back and low as you can get,” Billy told him, and Steve nodded, grabbing Billy’s hands.

“Don’t get hurt, Billy,” he whispered, trying to let go, but he’d started to cry, and he couldn’t make his fingers let go of Billy’s.

Billy yanked free to squeeze him close, but they heard another scream, and Steve pushed him away and ran into the store, trying to cry quietly. He found the nice counter person hiding behind the counter, and yanked them into the back like Billy had said, then crouched with his arms over his head like in an earthquake because he didn’t know what else to do.

The counter person had a glittery they/them pin that caught the light from the front of the store as they panted, staring over his shoulder, and Steve watched it, remembering how genius he’d thought it was back when they first started working. One of the centaur twins in his class used ey/em like their art teacher did, but the other one used fae/faer, and they were identical palominos—and Steve had been so grateful when one of them started painting faer hooves and he could get it right.

He hoped he got to see them again. He hoped Billy got to see them again, and started to cry harder, thinking about Billy dead somewhere, full of bullets. The counter person yelped as Steve started to crawl away, asking him where he was going, but Steve couldn’t help it, he scrambled out of the store, and hid under a bench in the corridor, listening.

There were a bunch of gunshots, at least five, and Steve shuddered, covering his mouth so he didn’t make a noise, but then everything went quiet. He waited, tears dripping down his cheeks, until Billy stumbled back around the corner of the corridor, leaning heavily against the wall.

There was blood, smoking as it dripped over his jewelry. Steve scrambled out with a yell and ran to him, gathering him into a hug as Billy slid down the wall to curl up with his head in Steve’s lap. “I-I’ll call 911,” Steve sobbed, wiping his tears away to try and see, and Billy shushed him.

“S’fine,” he mumbled. “S’okay, mmm...m’fixin’ it. Need...need you…”

“What,” Steve asked him, petting his flamey hair, and patting his horns nervously.

“Talk to me,” Billy breathed, with a noise like he had snot or tears in his throat, and Steve realized it was probably blood, the blood soaking into his jeans from Billy’s chest.

Steve bit his lips together to keep from making a noise as his lungs jerked with sobs. “Y-you’re gonna be okay,” he whined unconvincingly, then yelped as he realized Billy was smoking a little all over, and he felt a little smoky, too soft under Steve’s fingers on his shoulder, and not nearly heavy enough leaning against him.

“Tell me about the picture, that first night,” Billy whispered. “How’d it go. Dis-distract me.” He reached out and ran his finger through his blood on the floor, drawing some of a circle, and Steve pulled Billy’s hand back.

“Don’t move,” Billy growled, pretty certain that made things worse. He drew what he could remember—the castle, and the horse—trying not to think about the sticky chill of Billy’s blood on his fingers. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and kept drawing, as Billy asked questions like ‘Wasn’t it in a circle?’ and ‘I thought there were symbols or something.’ Steve would have stopped, but it sounded like it was helping, as Billy got heavier.

His voice sounded stronger. “...what are you drawing?” he asked, sounding like he wanted to laugh, and Steve felt a strong temptation to do something annoying, like lick his ear.

“I don’t remember the symbols!” Steve hissed, guiltily, trying not to sob. “Hearts are good,” he sniffled. “I-it’s the Eu-Eurovision logo! And I love you.”

“...yeah,” Billy whispered, staring at the picture, as Steve added some clouds, trying not to think about how much of Billy’s blood there was on the ground to draw with. “...save me with the Eurovision logo, kiddo.”

Steve sniffled hard, wiping his nose again, and used his clean hand to stroke Billy’s hair at the base of his horns.

“Tell me why you drew that,” Billy whispered, and Steve hugged him, trying not to get snot in his pretty hair. “The—the first time. That first night.”

Steve could hear sirens. “W-wanted a friend,” he whispered, his lungs juddering so he kind of gasped it.

“Wanted me?” Billy asked, whispering, and Steve nodded, hugging him tighter, and drew another circle around the one Billy had started, and wrote some stuff in there, ‘I’ and a heart and ‘Billy’, and Billy snorted a laugh, relaxing into him. He felt more solid, less like Steve’s fingers were going to press through him, and Steve dropped a kiss on his shoulder, his tears coming even faster in relief. Billy’s wound was smoking still, but he pushed himself upright—as Steve waved his hands in panic—and took a deep, slow breath, and shrank a little back into grown-up nanny Billy, in a t-shirt and jeans, still clutching at his stomach. The blood on the ground was smoking away. Billy took another slow breath, closing his eyes, and the blood on his shirt smoked away too.

Steve reached over—gently—and tugged Billy’s shirt up to see smooth unbroken skin, and wondered whether it was real. “Is—is it gone? Or are you hiding it?” he asked, around the lump in his throat, and Billy leaned in to kiss his head.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, as the sounds of shouting got closer.

“How did you get hurt,” Steve asked, rubbing his eyes again as they spilled over. “You’re magic, how—how did you get hurt, Billy, you—you promised—”

“I didn’t promise I’d never get hurt,” Billy laughed, and Steve punched his shoulder, and Billy grunted, wincing.

Steve scrambled closer, patting at him more gently. “It’s still there,” he realized, crying harder. “You’re still hurt, Billy, you’re hurt— we have to go to the hospital—”

“No, no, kiddo,” Billy laughed, gritting his teeth. “I’ll be okay. I’m just...hungry.”

“How did you get hurt,” Steve breathed again, his brain stuck on the memory of blood on the floor, and on his fingers. He clenched them, clean now, but he could still feel the stickiness.

“Well, he was human,” Billy said slowly, trying to push himself to his feet, “—and I’m not, so I was trying not to hurt him.”

“He had a gun,” Steve squeaked, stumbling to his feet to try and help Billy heave himself to his feet. “He had a gun, Billy—”

“But he’s human,” Billy said softly, glancing up with the smile he put on when he didn’t want to smile. “Like you. I can’t go around hurting humans.”

“You can if they have a gun,” Steve growled, steadying Billy as he stood, finally, staggering.

“Naaah,” Billy said, hugging his head. “You might stop and think twice about being my friend, seeing me do something like that.”

“I would not,” Steve insisted, huffing. “Not if they’re shooting at you—”

As they walked out, around the EMTs and a man in cuffs, screaming about demons, Billy flinched. Steve turned on his heel to go yell, because Billy was nice, and pretty, and he’d gotten shot, but Billy grabbed him up around the waist and kept walking, telling everyone that stopped him that they hadn’t seen anything, and they were fine.

“I hope they put him in jail forever,” Steve muttered, squirming to get down, because he was starting to get why parents got mad when they were worried. He wanted to shake Billy for not understanding he was important. Steve couldn’t stop snapping at him, either, even when he tried to be nice, stopping for a milkshake on the way home—Billy asked what kind Steve wanted, and tried to suggest vanilla when Steve paused, and then Steve went and said strawberry, just to prove him wrong, and he didn’t even like strawberry. Billy’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he drove, and Steve tried not to cry over his gross strawberry milkshake, and the remembered feeling of Billy’s blood dripping between his fingers and soaking into his jeans.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to keep quiet about this, okay?” Billy told him, and Steve laughed, wetly, because it wasn’t like he could tell anyone anyway. Steve’s parents would have questions if Steve told them Billy had been naked.

“I won’t tell,” Steve said thickly, and Billy grinned at him, like everything was fine.

It was weird, being really, really mad at Billy. Steve wasn’t used to being so angry at somebody he loved, and it spilled out, everywhere, at his parents, his teacher, at his friends—and particularly at Billy, who glared in confusion as Steve stomped past when he offered a hug, or ignored Billy saving him a seat in the cafeteria, or refused to eat the awful food Billy cooked for dinner.

It was worse that he couldn’t even tell anyone—there was nobody he trusted enough, except Billy. It seemed so obvious, now, that Billy could be hurt— everyone could, Steve told himself, and it had been stupid to think Billy couldn’t be hurt just because he could do magic.

He wanted to scream because Billy would hurt himself to save Steve, or that he almost died, and acted like that was normal, and he yelled into his pillow until he cried.

“Don’t be pissed,” Billy hissed, yanking Steve around the back of the gym during recess, after Steve had picked Tommy first for his soccer team. “You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” Steve muttered, his eyes stinging, because being angry all the time made him want to cry all the time, which made him angrier.

“You are fine,” Billy whispered, sighing, like Steve was being a brat.

Steve figured he probably was being a brat, if Billy thought so, and kind of wished he could just say thank you, but it stuck in his throat, and he shoved Billy away.

“I protected you, you’re fine, I’ll always protect you,” Billy groaned, like Steve was stupid, and Steve pushed him again.

“What about you,” he yelled back, too loud, and started to cry again. The shouting of three classes at recess pretty much drowned him out, but it was still embarrassing. “Y-you keep saying I’m fine, what about you?!”

“I’m fine too,” Billy told him, rolling his eyes. “I healed, I’m okay, Stevie.”

“Don’t call me Stevie,” Steve said, and Billy blinked, probably because Steve had always kind of liked having nicknames, just like normal kids.

“...Steve,” Billy corrected, watching his face, and Steve realized he’d given Billy an order, and felt worse.

“Y-you keep saying it’s fine and it’s not fine,” Steve shouted at him, and Billy frowned harder. “It’s not fine if you get hurt,” Steve tried to yell, but his throat closed, and he kind of choked it out.

“It’s okay if I’m helping you,” Billy said, smiling like Steve was being funny, and Steve wanted to hit him.

“No,” he rasped out, and Billy cocked his head. “If,” Steve started, not sure how he was going to finish, “—i-if—if you keep saying—if you keep saying you don’t matter,” he forced out, swallowing hard, “—I—I’ll—”

“You’ll what,” Billy laughed, raising his eyebrows, and Steve set his jaw.

“I’ll believe you,” he threatened, lying, and Billy went still. “I—I’ll believe you. That you don’t matter. L-losing you doesn’t matter. M-my best friend doesn’t matter. If I—” he sniffled hard, wiping his face, “—if I don’t like you anymore, it won’t be so scary—”

“No,” Billy interrupted, wide-eyed, grabbing Steve’s arm. “No, no, no— Steve —”

“It’s fine if s-some—if something...happens to you! R-right?!” Steve insisted, crying too hard to pretend he wasn’t, and pushing Billy, who staggered back. “If you’re just gonna die I—” he cut off as his lungs seized at the idea of Billy dead, Billy in a pool of blood, still on the floor, Billy gone. “I-if you’re gonna die,” he started again, miserably, “I don’t wanna be your friend, I—I can’t—”

“Fucking hell,” Billy muttered, his hands twitching towards Steve, and then flinching back. “I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry, please—please don’t—”

“Wh-what if you die and it’s my fault,” Steve moaned, hiccuping sobs, and trying to wipe his face, and Billy stepped in close again, grimacing uncertainly, wiping Steve’s face with his sleeves. He smelled like smoke, a little, like he did when something scary was happening, and the laundry detergent from when Steve helped him out at the laundromat, and Billy had chased him around and tickled him on one of the dryers. “What if you’re gone,” Steve wailed.

“No, no, no, c’mon, no, no—” Billy muttered, pulling him into a hug. Steve tried to pull away again, but Billy held on, warm and strong, and Steve finally just bawled into his shoulder, sobbing so loud everybody came to look, two different teachers, and all three of the classes at recess. Steve buried his face in Billy’s shoulder, and Billy hugged his whole head as Steve’s new favorite teacher squeezed both their shoulders, and whispered that she was glad they’d made up, and then ushered everyone away, even Tommy, who looked torn between triumph and worry.

“I’m s-still mad at y-you,” Steve told Billy, gulping for air. “I-I’m so mad at you—I—I’m so mad—” he wheezed out, his breath gone from crying, and Billy squeezed him tighter.

“Sssh, ssh, ssh, I’m sorry, I was wrong, I was wrong,” he whispered, and Steve relaxed, a tiny bit, wondering if Billy got it, finally.

“You c-can’t do that again,” Steve told him, feeling a sick guilt for ordering Billy around, but pushing on, because it had to be okay to not let Billy get shot.

“I don’t think there’s probably gonna be that many shooters at the mall, kiddo,” Billy whispered back, laughing, and Steve stomped on his foot.

“You have to promise,” he hissed, and Billy laughed again, but when Steve shoved away to glare at him, Billy was crying too, his eyes red and wet. “...you promise?” Steve asked, softening a little, and reaching up to wipe Billy’s tears off his round, freckled cheeks. Billy nodded, smirking a little, and Steve frowned. “You can’t just—get hurt. Not for me.”

“Because I’m so important,” Billy said, his smile widening a little as his eyes spilled over again. “And you’d be super sad.”

“Yeah,” Steve told him, narrowing his eyes, because he wasn’t sure Billy was really getting it, yet. “I’d probably cry for— forever.”

Billy made a weird noise in his throat as he laughed, leaning in and kissing Steve on his cheek, and his ear, clumsily, and squeezing him tight again until his fingers hurt against Steve’s arms and sides, but Steve didn’t care, because he was hugging back just as hard. “I—I’ll be more...careful,” Billy mumbled, sniffling. “Since I’m...important. So you don’t have to get so scared.” He took a shaky breath, burying his face in Steve’s shoulder. “...just...because of me.”

“You’re the most important person I know,” Steve told him, his breath going shaky again. “Just—just you, you have to—you have to be okay—”

“I gotta make sure I’m okay so you’re okay,” Billy whispered, nodding a little, and Steve groaned, but it was close enough, he figured, so he sighed a ‘yeah’. “Because I’m important,” Billy said, laughing a little, like he didn’t believe it, and Steve growled into his neck.

“I’m not lying,” Steve growled.

“No, no, yeah, I know,” Billy told him, giggling, and Steve pulled back to stare at him. He was laughing and crying, pink-cheeked. “I-I know. I’m—I’m important.”

[softyhyunjin]

ldr ⊵ bang chan

Description: Distance definitely makes the heart grow fonder.

இ genre: friends to lovers, ldr, college au, angst?, def fluff             

இ pairing: chan x reader                                                                              

இ word count: 12.5k

warnings?: there’s alc, and a pretty mf hot chan

a/n: @changbeanie it’s been a while ´･ᴗ･` wow, just wow 

↫ i ↬

“Chan, I need to spill the tea!”

He came to a halt, setting aside his unopened One Piece mystery figures. When he looked into the camera lens, his brows knit together in a little frown. 

“No Y/N, you can’t spill the tea! The tea is hot, and if you spill it, you are gonna get burned,” Chan playfully scolded you and laughed shortly after. 

“I’m serious Chan,” you whined, covering your face to hide your warm cheeks. Chan laughed even more. You didn’t know whether he was laughing at you or his joke. Maybe it was both. 

He calmed down and leaned back into his gaming chair. Sighing in content, he looked at you from his monitor, smiling softly. “Go ahead, tell me,” Chan said. 

“Can I really?” You removed your hands from your face and rolled your eyes. 

“Yes, now go!” He chuckled. 

“I caught Changbin on a date with someone!” 

Chan faked a gasp, “Ahhh, no way.”

“Oh, so you knew?”

“Yes, but I’d like you to finish spilling the tea.”

“That’s all I wanted to spill,” you scoffed. Of course, Chan would know about Changbin’s love life, he was close to all his friends after all. Now, your reasoning for calling him went down the drain. Useless. 

Chan shrugged, “He already told me his plan to confess to his crush a while back, so I’m not surprised. Ruby, I think that’s her name? Yeah.” 

“Okay, goodnight then. I’ll call you later this week if I can,” you sighed in defeat, swiping your mouse pad to hang up. 

“Wait, wait, wait. Y/N, you didn’t even let me finish opening the package you sent me. Don’t you want to see who I got?” His eyes lit up at his unopened One Piece figures. 

“Not really, it cost me a fortune to ship it out to you,” you spun around in your chair, faking disinterest to the birthday boy, but in reality, you wanted to stretch the call as long as you could. You really missed him. 

Chan had been studying abroad in Berlin for two months. You remember him speaking to you about it and listing his options in order: Berlin, Dublin, and Paris. When you asked why he placed Berlin as his first choice, he said its nightlife attracted him the most, which isn’t surprising, considering the night owl he is. And bonus, it was cheaper than his other options. 

“Should I call Woojin to watch me unbox instead, then?” He cocked his brow. 

“Do you really want him to watch you unbox it?” You pouted.

“Noo, I want you to watch me. But… I guess you don’t wanna,” Bang Chan shrugged.

“Ugh, you already know I do.”

“Then why didn’t you say so in the first place?” He teased further, enjoying his ability to easily earn a reaction from you. 

“Are you coming back to Sydney for Thanksgiving?” You responded with a question. 

“No, it would be pointless because I have to immediately fly back to Berlin for finals. Maybe I should stay here until the 22nd of December. Besides, I’m gonna miss it here. Oh-“ He excitedly tore off the wrap of his gift, “Tony Tony Chopper. I had a feeling I would get him,” he laughed. 

“Oh,” you said in a small voice but quickly hid your disappointment and smiled. “I was hoping you’d get him.”

Inside, you were pretty bummed out. Not seeing Chan for over a month was torture. Whatever you wanted to try would have to wait until he got back: the new restaurant by the mall, going on a fishing trip, and using the remaining benefits of your favorite amusement park’s season pass. Most importantly, you chose to wait for him to come home so that the two of you could binge-watch the latest season of Stranger Things. 

Chan had already caught the disappointment in your voice and put down the Tony Tony Chopper figure. Propping his elbow onto the desk, he used his palm to cup his chin, leaning into the monitor. Although he was ten thousand miles away, the gesture made him feel closer to you and Sydney. “You know that’s not what I meant. I miss home, my mum’s cooking, hanging with the guys, and cuddling with Berry. I get homesick at times, but I love it here.”

“I know, I’m just bored without you. I want to go bar hopping in Sydney again,” you groaned, feeling bad for making Chan explain himself when he didn’t even need to. 

“Tch, you just want to see the guys drunk call their girlfriends again.”

“Not even! I only want to see Hyunjin drunk call his girlfriend, it’s so cute when he whines to her about wanting to be the little spoon. He gets so embarrassed whenever Jisung and I show him the recordings,” you cackled like a witch. 

Chan shook his head in disapproval, chuckling at your words, “Y/N, You’re so evil. Just wait until you’re the one to drunk call somebody.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll have somebody by the time you come back,” you shrugged. 

“Oooh, well, do you?” 

“We’ll just have to wait until the next time we go bar hopping.”

“Then, you’re gonna have to wait for another two months,” he sang through the screen, his hand reaching for the mouse to select a song on one of his Spotify playlists. 

SLANDER & Said the Sky - Potions (ft. JT Roach)

“It’s going to be a long wait,” you sighed, drumming your fingers against your desk. 

“Every time you said a word, I was starin' at your lips. I don't think I've ever been so close to a love like this,” he sang along before taking a pause to say, “I’ll be home before you know it.”

Shooting him with a finger gun, you suggested, “Ahah! Are drinks gonna be on you?” 

“Shouldn’t you be buying? I’m the one coming home.”

You scowled. “Ask the boys because you miss them.”

“Don’t worry, I miss you too,” Chan easily confessed, bobbing his head to the drop of the bass. 

↫ ii ↬

“Gobble gobble gobble!” 

“Shut up, we don’t even have a turkey,” Minho said, slapping Jisung’s ass when he took up the entire couch. 

Jisung scooted enough for Minho to sit and used his lap as a pillow, “Hey, I told everyone to pitch in for our lovely Friendsgiving, but nooo! So, it ain’t my problem.”

“We pitched in for beef, that’s even better,” Hyunjin said, jumping back when the meat hit the electric grill, abruptly sizzling and splattering oil onto his hand. 

“Gimme that, you’re going to end up burning the meat and your hand,” Jeongin took the metal tongs from Hyunjin, increasing the temperature of the grill and adding more slices of brisket. 

“Haha, who are you trying to impress? Y/N?” Woojin joked.

Seungmin killed Woojin’s joke in an instant, “No, he’s trying to practice for his crush. They went out the other day and she cooked for him the whole time.”

Changbin stole the first slice of meat from the serving tray, saying with a mouthful, “Big fat rip, dude.”

 “Hello?” Felix said after picking up an incoming call from his phone. He rolled his eyes at the person speaking on the other line, “Liv, I told you to always have your wallet on you. No, I am not going to drive over to drop it off. Just stop by the house on your way to the movies.”

“Your sister left her wallet at home again?” Jisung asked. 

Felix shrugged, “Yeah, she always does that. I’m not gonna drop it off to her this time. Whatever, she said she’ll be here in ten.” 

You wedged yourself between Felix and Seungmin on the couch, making yourself comfortable while Felix challenged Minho on Super Smash Bros. Jisung had just finished setting up his Nintendo Switch on Felix’s TV and tossed both controllers to the first round competitors. Felix selected Dark Pit whereas Minho did the random selection and got Ness. 

“Nooooo! FUCK.” Felix screeched after Minho sent his character flying off the platform. You covered your ears but laughed at Felix’s loss. 

Minho smirked, nodding to his opponent, wiggling his eyebrows. “Do you want to change your fighter?” 

Rolling his tongue in his mouth, Felix shook his head, “No, rematch.”

The doorbell rang. Without a glance, too absorbed into his rematch with Minho, Felix asked you to open the front gate for Olivia. You left the couch and went outside to open it for her. When you opened the wooden gate, you found Bang Chan waiting outside instead of Felix’s sister. Your mouth went agape. 

“You’re back...” You said, stepping aside to let him in. 

Shock was still written across your face. He gently patted his carry on before leaning in to take a look at your face. Jokingly, he said, “I take it that you’re not thrilled to see me, should I leave then?”

Seeing him in person made your heart swell. You suddenly remembered how much you missed him. Overwhelmed by his presence, your eyes began to pool with tears and just could not stop. Without blinking, a big, fat tear escaped. Wiping the stray tear with the sleeve of your hoodie, you wanted to stop crying but wound up sniffling. 

Chan reached for your other arm, gently drawing small circles with his thumb. He couldn’t help but laugh as he attempted to soothe you. “Hey, hey, why are you crying?” He cooed, throwing another joke, “Maybe I should just leave…”

“No, don't.” 

Although tears kept on falling, you laughed back and patted your cheeks dry with your sleeve. Chan let go of the carry-on, spreading his arms wide for only one reason. You accepted his invitation, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his torso. “Don’t worry, I missed you too. But I didn’t expect you to cry so much,” he teased. 

The vibration his laughter gave off, made your insides feel warm and fuzzy. Chan smelled like fresh laundry mixed with the familiar cologne he only wore for special occasions. He rocked you side to side, and you could feel the smile spread across his face from his chuckling. You wanted to hug him even longer but a notification went off, causing both of you to pull away from each other. 

It was coming from the Apple Watch gifted to him from everyone for his 21st birthday. Chan checked the notification, disregarding it when it began to spam. “Let’s go inside,” he said, patting your shoulders to make you head in first. 

“Finally! What took you so long?” Felix jumped from the couch to give Chan a hug. 

Chan gave a nonchalant shrug, “My mum wouldn’t stop talking. If it weren’t for Hannah and Olivia needing a ride to the mall, I would’ve gotten here much later.”

“Christopher Bang, I have been waiting for you,” Jisung swooped in, giving Chan a bear hug. Then, weakly whispered into his dear friend’s ear, “If it was any longer, I would’ve died from starvation.”

You frowned all of a sudden. “Wait, all of you guys knew he was coming back for Thanksgiving?” 

“Surprise!” Felix awkwardly laughed because he knew you were going to strangle him later.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t he come back? It’s Thanksgiving,” Hyunjin walked out of the kitchen with the rest of the guys to hug Chan. 

“You said you weren’t though,” you said, narrowing your eyes at Chan. He removed the black cap from his head, sheepishly running a hand through his... dark brown hair? There was no longer a strand of dirty blonde. “Oh my god, and you dyed your hair back to your natural hair color,” you gasped. 

“Boy, I am starving,” he whistled, purposely ignoring your stare. 

Jisung wrapped his arms around yours and Chan’s shoulders, inhaling the aroma of Seungmin’s freshly baked pies coming from the oven. “I’m so fucking stoked to eat. Let’s eat.”

↫ iii ↬ bh.pt.i ↫

Famous Dex - Japan

“Baby girl, what you doing, where your mans? I just popped a xan, fifty thousand in Japan.”

Chan sang Japan by Famous Dex, pointing to Felix once they both made eye contact. Felix quickly caught on, finishing the chorus with a strong dab, “I ain't doin' no playin', these red bottoms, not no Vans. And she tellin' all her friends, I might put 'em on the Gram, aye!” 

“I don’t know you two anymore,” you cringed at the pair. Once the song was over, they started singing to Lil Uzi Vert’s ‘XO TOUR Llif3.’ 

“Should've saw the way she looked me in my eyes. She said baby I am not afraid to, die. Push me to the edge, all my friends are dead, push me to the edge, all my friends are dead,” they both sang, clasping each other’s hands and bobbing their heads. 

“Ah shit, the Uber driver is gonna be outside in two minutes,” Felix cursed and ran upstairs to his room to grab his bomber. 

“Hurry, or else we’re going to leave you!” Chan shouted towards the stairs, then, lowering his voice to tell you, “Let’s leave him.”

You rolled your eyes, and he cracked a smile. 

After Thanksgiving, Chan had two and a half days left before heading back to Berlin. You wanted to spend as much time as you can with him. Not only you, but everyone else wanted to. And the perfect way to do it: 

Bar hopping. (bh)

Jisung brought up the idea because he wanted to buy his friend a drink. It was a treat for Chan since he’s been away for nearly three months. But also, Jisung was anticipating to record any of Hyunjin’s embarrassing moments. For him, it was killing two birds with one stone. 

“Thank you, sir, have a good one,” Chan said to the Uber driver, waving goodbye as he was the last to exit the backseat of the car. 

Felix scanned the area, squinting whenever he saw anyone coming out of a shop. “Uh, we just arrived. Where are you- Oh! I see Woojin waiting in the front,” he hung up. 

“I’m so hungry.” Your stomach grumbled. 

“Yoooooo! Broski, over here,” Felix waved both hands in the air. The three of you approached Woojin, giving him a hug before entering the bar. 

Everyone was already seated inside munching on some salted peanuts. Changbin tossed a peanut into the air, and Jisung caught it in his mouth, extending his arms in the air to gloat his victory. “Now buy me a drink,” he demanded. 

“Fine,” Changbin scoffed but agreed. 

Once the three of you settled down in the large booth, Woojin ordered a beer and a shot of tequila for each person. You were excited to drink but hated tequila. It was the first alcohol to ever give you a massive hangover. The taste was disgusting and a measly whiff could still trigger your gag reflexes. 

“Alright, whoever finishes last needs to take another shot of tequila,” Felix snickered. 

“Ugh, no,” Hyunjin groaned.  

Chan leaned in to whisper into your ear, “Will you be able to handle it?” 

You bumped your left shoulder against his right, “Of course, who do you think I am?” 

Changbin knocked on the table, grabbing everyone’s attention. “3! 2! 1! Go!” 

You chugged the beer while keeping your eyes open for the rest of the guys. Most of them started off with their shot of tequila to get it over with while you, Jisung, and Jeongin started off with beer. By the time you were halfway done with your beer, the tequila starters were beginning to touch their beers. Some were still making faces from sucking the complementary lime wedges that came with the tequila. 

Finishing the last of your beer, Jisung slapped the table with his shot glass. Still sucking his like wedge, he pointed at you to hurry so you can come in second place. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, grabbing the lime wedge in one hand and the tequila shot in the other, downing it in one go. “That’s so fucking nasty,” you whined and chewed into the lime wedge. 

“Done,” Changbin said, sliding his empty drinks into the center of the table. 

Next, Chan burped out loud, saying, “I’m done. Excuse me.”

When everyone finished, the order came out to be: Jisung, Y/N, Changbin, Chan, Woojin, Minho, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin, Hyunjin. 

“FUck, this shit. I hate bar hop… ping,” Hyunjin complained, burping in defeat. 

“Bottoms up, loser,” Jisung laughed. 

“Drink! Drink! Drink!” Everyone chanted, cheering when Hyunjin finished the last of the devil’s juice. Already, his face was getting red as he lazily brushed his messy bangs away from his eyes. 

Even though Jeongin was second to the last place, he was eager to move on to the next round. Rubbing his hands in excitement, he asked, “So what’s next?” 

↫ iii ↬ barhopping pt.ii ↫

“We are just going to take it chill this round,” Seungmin cutely laughed. 

The lightweight slurred, jabbing his index finger onto Seungmin’s chest, “No, you wanted to take it chill this round.”

“He’s trying to save you,” you slapped Hyunjin’s back, “But I don’t mind taking it chill this round.”

Already tipsy and spouting out nonsense like always, Jisung called you out, “Y/N, what’s with the getup today?” 

He really emphasized the makeup and your fitted black off-shoulder top with dramatic John Cena hand movements. You grew embarrassed by the sudden attention. Now, everyone’s eyes were on you, especially Bang Chan’s. Your cheeks grew warm as you blushed, but that honestly did not matter because the lighting of the second bar was dark enough to hide them. 

“Jisung, they’re just falsies,” you rolled your eyes. 

Hyunjin cocked an eyebrow into your direction, “My girlfriend likes to wear them when she’s going out. Are you going out with anybody?” He put his head down and burped. “Keeping seCrets huh? uGH, I miss my girlfriend.”

“Nooo, definitely not…” You sighed, “I just felt like doing something different today.” 

“Is it because Chan is back?” Seungmin felt like he cracked the Da Vinci Code. Ridiculous. 

“You’re ridiculous, Kim Seungmin.”

Felix intervened, lazily karate-chopping his arm into the table. Thanks to him, he saved you from making a fool of yourself. “What about me? Didn’t you know anything different about me today?” He slurred. 

“You’re drunk,” Seungmin pointed out the obvious. 

“No, not yet. I got a new bomber, duh. Go ahead, touch it,” Felix suggested. He grabbed Seungmin’s hand, hovering it over his jacket. Then, Felix made him caress the smooth material. 

Both you and Chan burst out laughing. Then, you both turned to look at each other. When your laughter died down, you glanced at his plump lips and looked away with a sigh on yours. 

Why did you go out of your own way to put on makeup and wear your silver drop earrings? The top was a gift from one of your girlfriends. It’s been sitting in your closet for ages, but still, it was something different. 

The guys began to plan for the winter break agenda and Chan joined in on the conversation. He remembered the video call between you and him. It was around the time of his birthday when he unboxed the mystery One Piece figures you sent to him... Did you ever find somebody? 

For a moment, there was this unsettling feeling growing inside of his chest. Yeah, why did she look differently today, is what he thought. You were never ‘ugly’ in his opinion, you were just Y/N. Whatever you choose to do shouldn't matter, so Chan did what anyone would do: He brushed it off. 

Chan glanced over, feeling a little taken aback when you laughed at something Minho said about Hyunjin. Whenever he was surprised, his eyebrows did this thing where they would cutely knot upwards and his eyes would light up. But this time, it was different. Yes, he was surprised but the expression on his face grew soft immediately after you made eye contact with him. 

You raised the glass of your favorite cocktail to your lips, nodding in excitement when Jisung ‘secretly’ whipped out his phone and began recording Hyunjin. Then, you broke into a playful grin while biting into the black stirring straw before sipping your drink. Yeah, he thought you were really attractive right now. 

For some reason, Bang Chan felt like his body was engulfed by flames. 

You raised a brow, offering him to try your drink with a smile. Chan blinked back, totally aware he was staring at you. Luckily, you weren’t and thought he was curious about your drink. 

Turning down your offer, he decided to lay off on the drinking for the rest of this round. It was the alcohol causing him to feel this way, or that’s what he thought. 

If not, this was going to be a big problem. 

↫ iii ↬ barhopping pt.iii ↫

“Last but not least, we are going to get hammered with soju and meat,” Jisung cupped Changbin’s cheeks, then, patting them like how Asian grandmothers would select the perfect watermelons. 

Before Changbin could place him into a chokehold, Jisung clumsily ran into the restaurant to request for seats. He almost ran into one of the patio heaters in the process. “Come back, you fucking squirrel!” Changbin waved his fist in the air like an old man. 

He adopts a sailors’ mouth when he drinks lol. 

Hyunjin had an arm draped over Woojin’s shoulders. He’s already sobered up by now. “Let’s make sure he gets hammered tonight,” he said, then, pointed a finger at you, “And Y/N.”

“I say we should go for it,” Woojin supported his friend.

Your eyes widened. “What did I do?”

“He’s still salty you sent recordings to his girlfriend,” Jeongin teased Hyunjin, his eyes effortlessly creasing into the cutest eye smile. He reminded you of a baby fox. 

“I didn’t, it was Jisung. Recordings were sent from his phone,” You shrugged and stuck your tongue out when Hyunjin mimicked you. 

Jisung peeked at everyone from the restaurant door and caught Seungmin’s attention first, signaling him to bring everyone inside. Seungmin said, “Let’s go, seats are ready.” 

“I already picked out the meats. Now, the hardest part is choosing the soju flavor,” Jisung looked at the drinks menu with heart eyes. 

Changbin took the menu from Jisung’s hands, cockily skimming through it. “Leave it to me, I know what we should stay away from.”

When the waiter came by, Changbin ended up ordering two large yogurts, two fruit-flavored, and two original soju. Seven drinks. Everyone looked at him with their jaws dropped. “You’re actually insane,” Felix said even though he was at a loss of words. 

“The frat boy mentality has sprung onto him. It’s too late, we can’t save him,” Chan cried, covering his warm face, dramatically tugging it downwards with both hands. 

You sighed and lay your head onto Chan’s shoulder. You were still buzzed, but it was going to be a long night. Earlier, he put his jean jacket over your shoulders when some guy walked by and gave you a whistle. You were very uncomfortable from receiving the unwanted attention coming from a sleazebag and hid behind Chan’s broad frame. 

You were getting tired but still wanted to have fun. Chan’s shoulder was a muscular pillow. Your eyes glanced at the sleeve of his black T-shirt. Then, your eyes trailed down to his arm veins, his hand, and the ring on his pinky finger. It was your gift to him for his birthday this year. There was this strong urge to place your hand on top of his and flip it over so that the palm of his hand would be open for you to entwine your fingers in. 

Fuck, why is he so hot?

You didn’t actually do it though, you could not bring yourself to. When you tilted your head upwards, Chan was laughing at Woojin’s disaster story about his most recent blind date. He must’ve felt your gaze on him so he stopped paying attention to the story. Chan laid his eyes on you while you blinked back in surprise with a tinge of pink on your cheeks. His eyes held your gaze momentarily before trailing down to your lips, and so did you. 

You were both waiting for something to happen. The tension-

“Drinks and meat are here,” Minho excitedly cleared the table for the waiter. 

Both you and Chan looked away from each other at the same time. You instantly removed your head from his shoulder, and he cleared his throat. You were both left feeling embarrassed, however, Chan also felt nervous. You, on the other hand, felt a heavyweight on top of your chest. 

For this last round of bar hopping, you both avoided any sort of eye contact or slight skinship with one another. It was too risky, making a nervous wreck out of both you and Chan. 

“Let’s play Truth or Drink mixed with Never Have I Ever,” Changbin said, pouring a drink into everybody’s shot glass, filling it to the brim. 

Minho scoffed but enjoyed the idea, “You’re just asking for everyone to drink.”

“That’s the point.”

“Never have I ever almost joined a cult back in high school,” Jisung tsked over to his friend, snickering when Hyunjin and Jeongin downed the shot in one go. 

Hyunjin went next and glared at Jisung, “Never have I ever lived in Malaysia during my childhood.”

Jisung narrowed his eyes at Hyunjin, chewing on a piece of meat after drinking his shot. “Playing like that, I see.”

“Well, you started it.”

“No, you.”

“You.”

“You.”

Chan interrupted their bickering, and said, “Moving on, never have I ever… Cheated on an exam.” Everyone groaned, drinking except for him, Seungmin, and Hyunjin. Then, it was your turn. 

“Er… Never have I ever blacked out from drinking,” you peeked around, raising your glass to everyone. Changbin, Woojin, Chan, Jisung, Hyunjin, and Felix all clinked their glasses together. 

“Alcoholics,” Minho shook his head, eyeing each person with false disappointment written on his face. 

“Shut the fuck up, you have no right. You’re the goddamn instigator,” Jisung kicked Minho’s foot under the table. 

“Stop playing footsies with me.”

“Oh, I can stop whenever I want to.”

“Can I go now?” Seungmin stuck a piece of rib finger into Jisung’s mouth. Everyone gave him the go, so he suggested, “Let’s do Truth or Drink this round, and the question applies to everyone. If you were a serial killer in a movie, who would you kill first? On the count of three, point your finger to the person. 3! 2! 1!”

“Wow.” And it wasn’t hard to guess who it was. 

The rest of the night went by like that, playing more rounds of Never Have I Ever and Truth or Drink. More than half of the group was drunk and Hyunjin had his head down. He already knocked out and was drooling. You were drunk too but waited for Felix to take his turn. 

Propping your chin in the palm of your right hand, you felt your eyelids become heavier the longer Felix took to ask his question. Finally, he asked everyone, “What are you the most grateful for?”

“I’m the most grateful for my cats,” Minho brought up his fingers and began to list each cat, “Soonie, Doongie, and Dori. Sometimes, I get hissed at but I still love them all.”

It was Chan’s turn. “Mmm,” he thought, “I’d say, my parents, because if they never gifted me with music, I wouldn’t be CB97 right now.”

“And there wouldn’t be SPEARmint and your one and only,” Jisung sluggishly pointed to himself, groaning, “J.One.”

“It’s SPEARB,” Changbin whined, hugging Jisung. 

Chan was beginning to sober up and sipped on his half-full glass of water. Getting sentimental and smiling over to his rap unit members, his ears perked up when it was your turn. You had your head and arms sprawled across the table, earning a laugh from Minho when you palmed your forehead with a disgruntled look on your face. Your head hurt, but you continued, “I am grateful for a lot of things. My dog, meeting my ultimate bias, and having you guys in my life.”

“That’s so generic, be more specific,” Minho teased. 

“Lix, I’m grateful for Felix. If my dad never met his dad in their twenties, I would’ve never grown up with Lix. My dad wouldn’t have almost accidentally run over him that one time when he was running away from Rachel.”

“Huh, I remembered that day. Rachel got so mad at me for reading her diary. I mean, she did leave it on the couch,” Felix reminisced, chuckling at the memory from long ago. 

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, a little confused with what you shared. “Shouldn’t you be grateful for your dad meeting Felix’s dad? And not Felix?”

“Sure, but it’s Felix I am most grateful for. Because without him, I would’ve never met everyone else… and Chan,” you patted Felix’s bomber with your eyes closed and expected him to feel touched by your words. 

“Why say it like that? What differentiates Chan from everyone else?” Jeongin asked with a small pout on his lips. Chan wanted to know as well. He didn’t know why you paused a little before saying his name. Was he special to you in any way? 

Yeah. What differentiates Chan from everyone else? 

“Stop asking me, and let’s move on to Felix. It hurts to think,” you complained.

↫ iv ↬

“Oi bro, today was fun. But I’m fucking wasted,” Felix burped. He leaned his head against the door frame while intensely staring at the door handle. Concentration was key, literally. Felix needed to press the correct keys or else you, him, and Chan would be sleeping in the front yard tonight. Nobody was home. 

“You good there, buddy?” Chan asked with a concerned tone. 

Felix entered the correct code and the numbers on the keypad lit up blue, making him internally jumping with happiness. “Ohh hell yeah. Uh-”

Then, he pushed through the door, startling Chan as he ran through the living room and into the kitchen to hurl into the nearest trash can. Chan quickly went after Felix while still carrying you on his back. “Bro,” he cringed at the loose chunks in the trash can and rubbed Felix’s back, “Keep throwing up, it’ll definitely make you feel better. I’m gonna get you some water. Just let me take Y/N upstairs.”

Felix waved Chan off and said he’d be fine. He was going to go straight to his room afterward, change into his pajamas, and chug the huge hydro flask by his bed. It seems like Felix planned for this to happen, so Chan didn’t have to worry much. 

Chan carried you upstairs to the guest room and carefully unwrapped your arms from his neck when he sat on the bed. When he let go, you hit the back of your head against the headboard and whined in pain. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry,” he whispered. 

“Ugh, how long have I been out for,” you said, clutching onto the back of your head. 

Chan shrugged, turning around to look at you. “Just the ride back home.”

“I’m not looking forward to a hangover tomorrow.”

You expected Chan to respond but there was no reply. When you peeked one eye open, he was gone. You sighed, rolling to your side to face the window. Why did you feel so puzzled all of a sudden? 

“Are you asleep?” A voice whispered from the end of the bed. 

It was Chan and he had a tall glass of water in his hands. You sat up, thanking him as you took the glass and greedily drank from it. When you finished, you placed it onto the nightstand before laying on your back again. 

“Am I different?” Chan suddenly asked. 

“What do you mean?”

“Like, am I different from the others?” 

You lightly shoved his arm with your foot. “Other guys? Yeah, you’re CB97.”

He shook his head. It wasn’t the answer he wanted. “No, actually, never mind,” he said, changing his mind. 

You frowned and sat up. Then, you nudged his arm, bugging him to tell you, “What is it? Tell me, Bang Chan.”

When you whined, even more, he softly chuckled, facing you with a smile. The only source of light came from outside’s yard lamp through the window slits. You held in a breath when he leaned in. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

↫ v ↬

“Y/N, why are we doing this? You know I can’t bake.”

Felix frowned at the baking instructions displayed on his phone. He was having a hard time converting grams to ounces because the mixer was too disruptive. It was annoyingly loud. For the love of god, he spilled some powdered sugar onto the counter. 

“I need help, Lix. It’s hard to make macarons by myself,” you huffed, blowing a strand of your bangs out of the way. 

“What’s in it for me? I could be sleeping in right now,” Felix scoffed but went to the cupboard to grab sugar, salt, and almond flour. 

“You get to spend quality time with me for free. Also, you can eat delicious strawberry macarons. They’re your favorite.”

He shook his head, “No, they’re Chan’s favorite. I already knew your intentions the moment you asked to come over. And, I like banana flavored.”

“What’s with you and banana?”

“Don’t you just love the way it’s pronounced? Banana,” he smiled, thinking about bananas. 

Handing Felix the electric mixer, you bossed him around, enjoying every moment of it, “No, now beat the eggs with the mixer until it becomes stiff peaks,” 

“Y/N, If you like Chan, it’s okay to admit it. I won’t judge you,” he said, cracking a couple eggs into a large bowl, then scooped the yolks into a smaller bowl, “But I’ll make fun of you.”

You paused whatever you were doing to ask, “Why’d you say that out of the blue? That’s odd.” 

“Look,” he paused, “When have you ever went out of your way to gift homemade cookies for someone? This is cute child’s play Y/N.” 

“Never. But everyone is getting a share of this batch, so I don’t know why you’re quick to assume,” you nervously shrugged. Why were you nervous? There was no reason. 

“But who were you thinking of surprising when you bought the ingredients?” 

You eyed the egg whites sliding off the cracked eggshells in his hand as they slowly dripped into the mixing bowl. Cringing at his sloppiness, you told him to start mixing and less talking. “Why would I like him, it’d never work out between us,” you muttered under your breath. 

“Just don’t complain to me when he comes back with a girlfriend from his study abroad program,” Felix annoyingly sang, hitting the power button on the electric mixer. You felt something inside of you sort of snap.

“What?” You asked. 

“You’re not the only girl he’s friends with. You know that right?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment. You were no special exception and it somehow made you feel more hopeless. Felix knew his words must’ve triggered something so he decided to tone it down.

“As your best friend, I know when you’re into someone. This time, it’s different. You may not think you’ve liked Chan for a long time, but trust me, I know,” Felix turned down the mixer to add some sugar with the whipped egg whites, “No matter how many guys you’ve liked in the past, you’d always set them aside for Chan. You don’t do things like having late-night phone calls, binge-watching One Piece, or bake fancy cookies for anyone else. Only Chan. Admit it before I knock some sense into you, idiot. You have a soft spot for him.”

“I do not…” You said in denial, but who were you trying to convince?

“Whatever,” Felix gave up and rolled his eyes. He adjusted the speed of the electric mixer, adding the rest of the sugar into the whipped egg whites. 

When Felix finished whipping the egg whites, they became stiff peaks. He removed the mixer from the bowl, distracted by the mixture’s consistency and unwillingness to budge. “Hey, Y/N,” he tapped your shoulder before holding the bowl of stiff peaks upside down above his head, “Check this out.”

“YONGBOK WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” You screamed his Korean name, hoping the mix wouldn’t fall onto his head and get on the floor. 

“Look, it’s not falling hehehe,” Felix laughed, remembering how he saw something like this in a Tasty video. 

You grabbed Felix’s shoulders in hopes of him putting the bowl down but then he placed it over your head and laughed. “Oh my god, if it gets in my hair, I’m gonna kill you,” you vigorously shook him. 

Felix laughed and put you in a headlock, threatening to coat your face in stiff peaks. “You started it by calling me Yongbok.”

“Yongbok, Yongbokie, LEE YONGBOK,” you giggled when he locked you in tighter. His soft hoodie tickled your neck and you were scared of getting smeared with the cookie mixture. 

“What are you guys doing?” 

Felix dropped his arm to his side and placed the mixing bowl onto the counter. You stood up, fixing your now messy ponytail and awkwardly coughed. 

Chan stood by the kitchen entrance with his arms crossed, looking somewhat displeased. You looked anywhere else but him. When you finally made eye contact with Chan, he quickly avoided it and cleared his throat. “I just came to say goodbye,” he said. 

“But isn’t your flight at 5?” Felix glanced at his oven’s built-in clock, “It’s not even noon yet and you’re already leaving?” 

“My parents want to have lunch with me before dropping me off at the airport. They invited my grandparents and other relatives, so it’s going to take a while.”

“Do the rest know?” 

Chan nodded, “Yeah, I’m going to head back to grab my luggage after lunch, but I messaged them earlier and came to say goodbye just in case.”

Felix walked over to Chan and gave him the tightest bear hug, “Take care and stay safe. I’ll see you in a few weeks?”

“Yeah, and take care as well,” Chan smiled. 

“For sure.”

When their hug was over, Felix said he needed to grab a charger from upstairs because his phone was about to die. You didn’t want to be alone with Chan because you were afraid of acting weird around him, then no one could save you. “What are you two making?” Chan nodded at the mess in the kitchen. 

You shyly smiled, “Uh… Cookies? Hey Chan, are you going to stop by here again after your family lunch?”

“Maybe not, I’m not sure. I’ll call you if I do.”

“Hmmm, okay,” you nodded awkwardly, “I guess I’ll see you in a few weeks too.”

“Yeah, I’ll be back before you know it,” Chan smiled and began teasing, “Better not be a crybaby once I leave.” 

You slapped his arm, “It won’t happen again, just let it gooo.”

“Hmm, nooo,” he laughed. 

When Chan’s laughter died down, he stared at you with a small sigh. You were acting a little different today and he kind of had an idea as to why. He thought you sensed something unusual about his behavior, making you feel awkward towards him. He just wanted to board the plane right now and get his thoughts settled. 

Chan wanted you to give him a hug like always but you refrained from doing so. By the time Felix came back down with his charger, he sensed the weird atmosphere and mouthed to you, ‘What did you do?’

You narrowed your eyes at him and Chan’s phone rang at the same time. It was Lucas on the other line, asking when his brother would be home since their grandparents would be arriving soon. Chan took that as a cue to be on his way, leaving you in the kitchen as Felix walked him out of the front door. 

Felix came into the kitchen confused, “What happened when I was gone?” 

“Nothing, we were just talking.” 

“Do you think we’re going to finish baking these macarons by the time he leaves to the airport?” Felix scratched his head. 

“I hope so,” you sighed. If you worked efficiently enough, it’s possible to finish on time. 

Chan quietly sat in the back seat of the minivan with his younger siblings on the way back from the restaurant. He’d usually bug Hannah about her recent boy crushes or watch Lucas play Monster Hunter on his 3DS. This time, he stared out the window with his EarPods in. A lot was on his mind. 

Chan felt sort of jealous, then stupid, then fine again. It was a cycle on his way back to the house. He knew Felix didn’t have any romantic feelings for you, but the tinge of jealousy would not leave his system. Chan let himself into the house when Felix had just finished mixing whatever. He was curious as to why Felix was up so early since his best friend tends to sleep in till noon during breaks. 

When Chan heard your voice, his ears perked up like a dog. He felt excited to see you and walked into the kitchen, hoping to surprise you. Instead, Chan himself was surprised when he found Felix holding you in a headlock. You were laughing and squirming in Felix’s hold, making Chan wish he didn’t see that. 

Not once have you laughed like that with Chan since he came back to visit. Chan thought you developed a crush on Felix but haven’t told him. But how could you not? You always tell Chan everything. He didn’t care if you liked someone… So what?

When they arrived home, Chan’s father pulled into the driveway. Everyone went inside to rest for a little while before sending him off to the airport. Chan still needed to go upstairs, so he could grab his things and load them into the trunk. After carrying his luggage downstairs and to the minivan, Chan popped open the trunk, halfway loading his things but stopped when his phone went off. 

He picked up the call with his earphones, unaware of the person calling, “Hello?” 

“H-have you left to the airport yet? Or are you still at home?” You said, heavily panting on the other line of the call. 

“Y/N?” Chan asked surprised, “I’m still at home. I just got back.” He waited for you to answer but you had already hung up. “Hello? Y/N?”

“Chan!” You ran up to him, exhausted and a little sweaty. Then, you placed a hand on your waist to keep yourself up as you slowly regain your breath. 

“Did you run here?” 

“Yes.”

“What? Why?”

You stuck your hand into the inside of your denim jacket and fished out a decent packaged goodie bag. “I didn’t want you to leave empty-handed, so I made you these.”

You never fail to catch Chan off guard these days. He slowly unraveled the bag as if it were a delicate rose, and peeked inside to see a couple of pink macarons. Although several of them were cracked because Felix opened the oven midway into baking, causing them to deflate, there were some good ones. 

“Is this what you were baking with Lix?” Chan asked. When you nodded, a smile couldn’t help but form on his lips. 

“Yeah, sorry if I didn’t ask you to stay or say much. I wanted it to be a surprise,” you shyly glanced around him, hoping he’d try one of the cracked cookie sandwiches. 

“Huh, I would’ve never guessed,” Chan laughed. As dumb as it sounds, he felt better knowing you were thinking of him. 

You peeked into his goodie bag, “Are you going to try one?”

“Yeah, here,” he handed you one before taking a bite of his own. 

You thought it was cute when Chan slowly chewed on the cookie. His eyes formed into crescents once he recognized the flavor. After finishing one macaron, he wrapped the bag, closing it and stuffed it into his pocket, “I’m saving these for when I wait to board the plane.”

“Here, eat mine,” you offered the uneaten macaron in your hand. 

“You don’t like strawberries?” 

“No, I do. But I know you like them more, so here,” you brought the miniature sandwich to his lips, smiling when he opened his mouth. 

“Fanks, tho good,” Chan said with a mouthful. 

“Ew, chew with your mouth closed.”

“Hmmm,” he swallowed the last of the macaron, “I said they’re really good, and thank you.”

Sighing in relief, you said, “Of course, I’m glad they come out burnt.”

“They came out kinda ugly though.”

You hit Chan’s bicep. “Then don’t eat them,” you held your hand out, “Return them.”

Chan laughed but reached into his pocket. Instead of handing the cookies back, he grabbed your hand and pulled you in for a hug. As his arms wrapped around your shoulders, he hugged tighter. You uncontrollably smiled, returning his hug and laughed at his sly move. Chan notices how he loves it when he’s this close to you. It makes him feel good to be around you. 

He likes to do this thing where he rocks you back and forth in his arms. You remembered the first time he did it was when you were juniors in high school. You embarrassed yourself in front of a guy you liked at the time and felt down for the whole day. It wasn’t until after school where you were forced to tag along with Felix and Chan to eat pizza which made you feel better. Although you weren’t by the time you met up with them, both caught the sight of your glossy eyes. 

Felix said he had to head back early because he needed to study for a bio test, but you and Chan both knew he would end up playing video games instead. Chan bought you a smoothie and walked you home since it was on the way to his. Before he let you go, he gave you a bear crushing hug, rocking you back and forth while telling you to cheer up and stop being a crybaby. His way of cheering you up always made you laugh and feel warm inside. 

Chan was your big, swol teddy bear. 

Fuck it, you liked him... It didn’t matter. You will deal with it later. 

“Did you really think I’d give them back?” He playfully teased. 

“If you did, I will never make you anything ever again. Ungrateful jerk,” you huffed, pretending to be angry. 

“Nah, I’d never,” he said softly. 

“When are you leaving?” You said, your voice a little muffled from being too close against his jacket. 

“Pretty soon. We’re just waiting for my dad to get off his food coma.”

“Ohh okay.”

Still hugging you, Chan felt like he really needed to say it. You already know though and it wouldn’t change anything, but a strange feeling of realization hit him. As cheesy as it sounds, he wanted to give you a light kiss on your forehead. Wow, he likes you and he is finally sure of his feelings. 

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna miss you,” Chan took a deep breath, “I always do, so don’t be a crybaby when I leave.”

↫ vi ↬

Chan rushed back to his dorm, feeling a surge of inspiration out of nowhere. It was a pain to sit through the last half of class when he was so eager to leave. He was excited to hop on his keyboard to work on a mix. 

Once he stepped into his room, he dumped his backpack onto the floor and stripped off his hoodie, tossing it onto the bed. Then, he pulled out the keyboard pad from his desk and began to set up his laptop and headphones. 

It was perfect. 

Chan was afraid he’d lose the beat or lyrics that came to his mind earlier, but he got it down pretty quick. Now, the hard part. He had to find a way for it to flow smoothly together. He hummed, his head bobbing to the new beat, but something was still lacking. 

“Maybe if I move this here, the transitioning would be a lot better,” Chan clicked on his mouse and dragged one of the clips, inserting it into the mix. When he replayed the sound, he smiled in content. 

CB97’s back, baby.

Just when he felt like he could add in another element, an incoming call interrupted his train of thought. It was from you. 

He picked up the call and swiped into the clock app to check the time zone in Sydney. His eyes widened, why were you calling him 12:30 in the morning? Did something happen?

“Hello? Y/N?” Chan said to the other line. 

“I’m bored,” you said. 

He laughed. “Why are you calling me? Are you by yourself?”

“No,” you replied, shaking your head, “I’m with Lix, Hyunjin, Jisung, and Changbin. Eww, Lix just threw up in the bushes.”

Chan cringed at the sound of his best friend hurling on the other line. It reminded him of the last time he went bar hopping with you and everyone. Now that Chan knew you were drinking, it was obvious you were drunk too. 

“Why’d you call?”

“I don’t know.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I don’t know… Hyunjin started calling his girlfriend midway through finishing his drink. Then Changbin called his to confess how much he likes her. And don’t get me started on Jisung,” you tiredly watched Jisung rub soothing circles on Felix’s back. 

“What about Jisung?” Chan chuckled, urging you to continue. 

“He FaceTimed his girlfriend and said he loves her and misses her even though he knows she’s going to kick his ass for getting drunk,” you sighed. 

“Then what?”

“Felix didn’t have anyone to call. He only searched up Momo on google images and angrily pointed at Heechul to treat her right or else he would fly to Korea to square up,” you laughed, starting to feel a little sick too. 

“What about you? Did you have anyone to call?” Chan removed himself from his desk and plopped onto his bed. 

“No, only you. There’s no one else to call, I don’t like anyone else,” you said truthfully. 

“Wow, so I was your last resort,” he joked. 

You felt liquid courage giving you a booster. Shaking your head, you sighed deeply as you watched Felix cough up the last of his partially digested pizza. “Never, I like you too much. I didn’t call anyone else because you’re the only one I want to talk to. So, no. Not my last resort, more like my automatic first choice,” you confessed. 

“Sure.”

“No, I mean it. I love you so much. I just want to hug you all day long. You have no idea how much I miss you,” you whined. 

Chan’s smile faltered and his heart began to race. There’s no way you meant that, did you? 

“How much did you drink?”

“Enough to feel like throwing up but not enough to actually throw up,” you groaned at the unsettling feeling in your stomach.

“Will you remember what you just said to me when you wake up tomorrow?”

“Of course. I always remember! Remember, you said I would someday drunk call somebody. Well, you were right,” you giggled.

Boy, he hoped so. Chan was shaken but couldn’t do much because you were intoxicated. If you did like him, he wanted you to confess when you’re actually sober. That way, Chan would know you were being serious. 

“Who’s not wasted? Can you hand them your phone?” Chan rolled in his bed while anxiously waiting. 

“Hello?” A familiar raspy voice asked. 

“Hey Bin, is everyone sleeping over at someone’s house tonight?”

“Oh, hey,” Changbin said tiredly, “Yeah, we’re going to head back to Felix’s soon. Just haven’t called an Uber yet because Y/N’s been on the phone. Everyone’s phones pretty much died.”

“That’s good,” Chan mumbled to himself, “Can you do me a favor and take care of Y/N for me? Just make sure she gets into a bed and drinks a glass of water before she sleeps. She’ll be fine by the time you guys get to the house since she sobers pretty fast.”

“Honestly, you should be here. She’s been talking about you all night long, but it’s Gucci. I’m gonna take care of everyone,” Changbin nonchalantly shrugged. It was no biggie to him. 

“Just keep an eye out for her and everyone else,” Chan sighed. 

Changbin nodded, “Yessir. I am going to order an Uber now, I’ll talk to you later. Oh shit, Y/N just threw up.”

“What? Wait-“

Although Chan’s heart was still pounding, he figured to leave it until tomorrow when you sobered up. He couldn’t stop rolling in his bed and suddenly felt more homesick. He didn’t know whether or not he should call you first thing tomorrow after his brunch with a classmate. Or maybe he should wait for you to say something? 

Either way, you drove him nuts. Both good and bad. 

The next morning, you stormed downstairs to look for the person who made you go out last night. He slept on the couch, snoring lightly and draped an arm over his eyes. 

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” you angrily tossed one of the couch pillows at a hungover Felix. 

Felix tiredly rubbed his eyes. You woke him up and he palmed every spot on the couch for his phone. “What now?” He asked. 

“I should’ve never gone with you guys. I’m screwed,” you said in distress. 

“You’re so LOUD, I’m TRYNA SLEEP Y/N,” Jisung crankily got up from the couch and walked into Felix’s room to join Changbin under the covers. 

“What did I do?” Felix asked again. 

“I should have never gone drinking last night. I fucked up everything, I can’t bear to see Chan or even talk to him again,” you said, pacing back and forth in front of the TV. 

Felix laughed, “Did you drunk call him and confess?”

“I think so, something along the lines of that,” you tried to remember your exact words but brain fart. 

“Oh shit,” he chuckled. 

“It’s not funny,” you began tearing up, “I messed up everything. It won’t be the same anymore. I don’t want Chan to avoid and stop talking to me because of these stupid feelings.”

Alarmed with your glossy eyes, Felix jumped from the couch even though he still felt nauseous from last night. He patted your back, holding in a laugh when you blinked away some tears. You reminded him of Jeongin. “Y/N, you’re worrying over nothing. Chan’s not going to do that to you, trust me. You know, confessions don’t mean much when you’re drunk.”

Sniffling, you asked him, “What do you mean they don’t mean much when you’re drunk? There’s truth to those words.” 

“Being intoxicated makes you say a lot of things you would not choose to say if you were sober. One time, I even said Changbin’s arms were hot. Can you believe that?” He scoffed. 

“Yeah, I mean, they’re pretty thick.”

Felix rolled his eyes, “The point is, confessions are meaningful when you’re sober. There’s something about being fully aware of your words and having the courage to say it without having to rely on liquid courage. Your confession was most likely taken lightly. You were just letting a friend know you miss him, like a lot, but that’s it.”

“So everything will be okay?”

“Yes, so stop worrying.”

↫ vii ↬

But everything wasn’t okay. 

Chan kicked off his shoes and fell into bed right after his last final. It’s been almost two weeks since he last talked to you (you drunk calling him in the middle of the day), and he felt stuck. When he sent you messages and memes, you wouldn’t respond or would leave him on read. Sometimes, it’d be a miracle if you gave him short responses. Even then, the atmosphere was off and he didn’t know how to keep initiating without the conversation being cut short. 

On days like this, it’d be perfect to compose something, anything. However, Chan kept deleting newly recorded beats, dissatisfied with its quality and flow. He gave up and quit all his open programs. 

Without thinking about the different time zones, Chan went on Discord. His cursor hovered over your icon before he clicked on it. It’s now or never, he thought. Chan felt his heart pounding over a simple video call. He didn’t even know if you were going to answer. It’s better to not get his hopes up. 

When the server rang, he anxiously clicked open some tabs to respond to Felix and check Facebook. 

“Hello?” You asked, dreading the moment he called you. 

“Y/N?” Chan asked, surprised you answered. He stared at the monitor, taking in the image of you working on something in your notebook.  

“Hey,” you sighed. 

Chan’s brows furrowed. He grew concerned at the time of your voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just tired. You know, the same thing always happening at school and work,” you lied, avoiding his stare. His gaze was still piercing through a screen. 

“Doesn’t seem like it. You usually talk about school and work, but you haven’t been doing so lately. Let alone at all,” Chan sadly stared at the screen as you pretended to be writing something important down. 

“Sorry, I’ve been pretty stressed lately. I haven’t had the time to talk or call,” you apologized, feeding him another lie. Oh, but he knew you were avoiding him. 

“You should’ve sent me a message or called me at least. It’s better to talk about it, Y/N. Keeping worries to yourself only make matters worse.”

“I’ll try to.”

Fed up with the tension, Chan frustratedly combed his hair with his fingers, “Cut the bullshit Y/N. I know you’ve been ignoring me. If it’s about that night you drunk called me, I’ll drop it. I know you don’t do homework at this time, especially on a Friday night.”

You dropped your pencil and stayed silent. Chan could only do so much on a screen. He stared at you, waiting for you to respond. It was dead silent because you could hear his hallmates talking in a foreign language as they passed by his door.

“Are you really not going to say anything?”

Finally looking up, you wiped off the tears that fell down to your cheeks, sighing. Chan sat up in his chair, worried he messed up. He thought you were going to end the call but held in a breath when you said, “What am I supposed to say? That, I’m sorry for having feelings for you? You say you can easily drop it, but I can’t.”

Chan let his hand cover his mouth, trying to hide his troubled expression. “Who said it was easy to drop it?”

“It’s not, but I screwed up… You’re aware of my feelings towards you. I can still remember that night’s conversation, and I know you do as well,” you covered your face, you didn’t want him to see you crying and looking like Rudolph, “It’s just going to be awkward for us the next time we’ll see each other. Everyone will sense it too. You’ll end up avoiding me.”

“Why do you say that? How can I avoid you? I’ve known you for years. That’s the least of your worries,” Chan said, frowning at your reasoning. He was utterly baffled. 

You slammed your palms onto the desk. “How is that the least of my worries? I like you more than a friend would, Chan. I have feelings for you, but I feel like I’m on the verge of losing one of the closest people in my life, you.”

You were both practically raising your voices on each other. 

He frustratedly started off strong, “What if you said those words to me when you were drunk but don’t actually mean it when you’re sober,” but finished in a small voice, “Then what?” 

“But that didn’t happen, so there’s no point in bringing up another possibility,” you softly said. 

“So what? Are you going to take back what you said? Because you can’t.”

Your heart dropped, and you wanted to bawl. “W-what?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized and ended the call. 

You shut off your laptop and sat in your chair crying. When you got into bed, you curled into a ball with a tissue box beside you. You felt horrible. Everything was a mess. After going through twenty-something tissues, the mini trash can by your desk was filled with snot balls and evaporated tears. Exhausted and too tired to cry anymore, your eyelids slowly dropped until a notification popped up on the screen of your phone. 

It was a Surprise LIVE! from Monsta X. 

You chucked your phone away and it fell off the bed and onto the wooden floor. As if you cared about watching them live right now. If your ultimate bias couldn’t cheer you up with his smile, nothing could. 

You retrieved your phone to find a message from Chan. He only sent you a link directing you to Spotify playlist titled: 

↫ viii ↬ “I’m back and you didn’t even come with Lix to the airport to come to get me? I’m so hurt,” Chan pretended to be offended. He placed a hand over his chest, feigning hurt as you laughed at his attempt to be petty. Afterward, he excused himself to change into a more comfortable outfit and muted you on Discord.

When Chan finally unmuted the call, you blew a raspberry and stuck your tongue out at the camera. “I couldn’t, I was out of town. I just got back an hour ago,” you yawned, stretching your arms into the air. Then you spun around in your chair, coming to a complete stop when you saw him wearing a new sweatshirt.

“I knowww,” Chan dragged, taking a seat in front of his monitor again, “I’m surprised I’m not that jet lag.”

“It’ll catch up to you, trust me,” you rolled your eyes at the memory of your own jet lag experience. It was horrible. “Is that new? The quality looks expensive, what’s it made of?” You asked about his sweatshirt.

Chan touched the black fabric, pinching it between his fingers to emphasize his next words, “You can say it’s… boyfriend material…” He shyly laughed when you palmed your face at his cheesy joke, but you were laughing too. “I’M JOKING, ENOUGH,” he smiled.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be wearing that, Chan,” you teased.

He looked down at his sweatshirt, searching for any flaws. “Why? Does it look ugly on me?”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head, “You’re a fraud.”

“For what?”

“As much as you’re wearing something that’s boyfriend material, are you boyfriend material?” You teased him again as he could only smile back at you. He took your hint pretty well.

Chan pretended to shrug and spun in his chair. He briefly stared at the ceiling, thinking of what to say next. When Chan looked into the lens, he chuckled softly, “Can I? Or shall I?”

“Can you what?” You didn’t get it.

“Be your boyfriend.”

You blushed and fell silent. Chan wiggled his eyebrows, feeling like he won this time. It was your turn to get teased by him. He was about to say something but you beat him to it.

“Ask me again in person,” you looked away from the screen of your laptop to hide your warm cheeks.

“Can I? Or shall I?”

“What?”

“Come over now,” Chan eagerly suggested.

It was obvious that he was super excited and wanted to see you in person. He was like a kid on a sugar high.

“Can I? Or shall I?”

When his joke was being repeated by someone else other than him, you, he tilted his head in confusion. “What?” He asked.

“Can I? Or shall I? Be your girlfriend.”

Bang Chan didn’t even have to think twice. “Yes.”

“Well, come on and get over here then,” you laughed.

“Be there in fifteen.”

↫ ix ↬

“Wow, that movie is so good. It’s the best one I’ve seen all year long,” Chan gushed as you searched for places to grab a quick drink before going home.

You both had just finished watching Parasite, a movie about a lower class family benefiting from a wealthy family. From the trailers you’ve watched with Chan, you both thought it was going to be some kind of horror movie. However, the plot was totally unexpected and kept you on your toes. 

Chan paid attention to the road but felt your eyes land on him. You smiled, adding on to what he was probably going to say next, “I’d say it deserves a ten out of ten from me.”

You navigated him to the nearest boba shop. To Chan’s luck, he found an open parking spot a few shops away from the place. When you got out of the car, the strong breeze hit your face, causing you to scrunch your nose. Chan noticed, so he put your hood on and tightly pulled onto the strings of your hoodie. You squealed, leaning away as he laughed. 

As you kept walking, you were tired of having your hand brush against his. So, you took his hand into yours, slowly entwining your fingers with his while holding them up to show him. Chan covered his face because he found you so cute. He wanted to give you a hug. 

“Can I see your wallet?” Chan asked. 

You didn’t know why but you gave it to him anyway. You were fine with it since he’s already seen your cringy IDs since high school. “Why, what are you going to do with it?” 

He ignored your question and approached the cashier, leaving you in the booth by yourself, asking, “Hi, can I get two roasted rice milk teas? Yeah, and with boba too.”

Then, Chan brought his phone out of his pocket, using  Apple Pay as you stood there in disbelief. He walked back to the booth, taking your hand in his and returned your wallet. “Wow, you’re sly,” you slapped his hand away. 

Chan chuckled, playing with the order number at his fingertips, “You can pay next time.”

“Oh, I will,” you stuck your tongue out. 

Once your drinks were out, Chan drove you back to your place. You sat in the car with him, getting nervous when he turned off the engine. “Do you wanna… “ He threw in a suggestion. 

You didn’t even let him finish. “W-wanna what?” 

Chan held back a small laugh, “I was wondering,” and he paused, “If you wanted to take a stroll around the neighborhood before we call it a night.”

You wanted to repeatedly slap your forehead for having inappropriate thoughts in the first place. When you didn’t give Chan an answer, he threw in another suggestion. “Unless it’s too cold outside, we can go back to my place and hang out with Berry,” he shrugged. 

Your eyes lit up at the mention of Berry. Your love for dogs was the same as it was for boba, and you excitedly nodded. Chan shook his head and rolled eyes his at your childlike reaction. He started his car again, reversing to give him some leeway and drove into the streets. His place wasn’t far from yours, it was only a five-minute drive and a fifteen-minute walk. 

After parking his car into the driveway, you bolted out of your seat and waited for him to catch up to you at the door. Chan teased you for being more excited to see Berry instead of him. When you said, ‘Of course,’ he stopped in the middle of unlocking the door and raised an eyebrow. 

Chan leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You can find your own ride back home, then.”

He bit his lip to prevent a smile from forming on his lips when you linked your arms with his, saying ‘sorry’ while begging him to drive you back home later. Of course, Chan was going to take you back. He wanted to make sure you were heading into your house safe and sound. When he finally unlocked the door, Berry woke up and shook herself before approaching the familiar scent of her owner. You heard small footsteps and the bell of her collar tinkling as she walked up to you and Chan. 

He petted her head, giving it a quick scratch before kicking his shoes off. You crouched down to pet Berry while she heavily sniffed your ankles and socks. There was a dog scent coming from you because you have a dog back at home too. 

Chan flipped on the lights and went to the kitchen to dump his empty drink into the motion sensor trash bin. When he walked into the living room, you had Berry laying flat on your chest and stomach. Her head pointed towards you and she cutely blinked, slowly beginning to fall asleep until Chan sat next to you. 

She got up, edging herself between you two and laid on her stomach, waiting for Chan to give her a belly rub. As he rubbed her belly, you looked around the living room and noticed the house was quiet. “Where’s everybody?” You asked. 

“Hannah’s at a sleepover and Lucas went with my parents to see a show. So I guess it’s just you and me.”

“Oh.”

“Wanna see what I’ve been working on?”

“Sure,” you nodded, feeling nervous again. Chan carried Berry back to her doggie bed by the fireplace, giving her one last pet before heading upstairs with you. When you walked into his room, you rolled your eyes at the giant monitors on his desk. Chan turned on his computer, satisfied with its smooth powering up, and typed in his password when the login appeared onto the screen.

Distracted by his light-up keyboard and mouse, you weren’t aware of him asking you to have a seat on his bed. Chan shook his head, handing you the mouse. “Go for it,” he offered you to change the color of his setup. 

When you handed back the mouse, Chan searched for a folder titled: CB97 and clicked on a file that opened into an audio clip. He played it for you, a soft smile appearing on his lips when you bobbed to the beat. “Do you have a name for this song in the making?”

“I’m thinking of… Hoodie Season?”

“I like that title,” you fell onto the bed as he played more clips for you to hear. When your eyelids were slowly beginning to droop, both yours and Chan’s phone buzzed. It was a Snapchat notification from Hyunjin. 

You reached into your butt pocket, whipping out your phone to take a look at whatever irrelevant thing Hyunjin would send to you at this time. When you opened his message, it was a recorded memory from a couple weeks back. 

“Yo, I’m sick as fuuu-“ Felix hyped himself until he threw up into the nearest bush outside of the local bar. Thank god the snap ended before you could see anything coming out, but it was still fun to watch. 

You giggled and pressed onto the next video.

“I miss you, I love you, and I know you’re going to kick my ass when you see me tomorrow,” Jisung whined to his girlfriend on the phone, “If you kick my ass, you will regret it. Then, you won’t have a nice ass to look at and touch anymore.”

Then the camera pointed at you. “You’re so gross,” you fake gagged and took out your own phone to dial your crush, “God, I miss Chan.”

Before you could finish watching the whole thing, you internally screamed inside your head and quickly skipped that part. “What was that?” Chan asked, plopping onto the bed to watch the video when he heard his name being said out loud. 

You immediately chucked the screen away, facing it down onto the bed, “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Chan said, trying to peer over your shoulder.

Shaking your head, you tried to roll away, but he wrapped an arm around your waist, reaching for your phone with his free hand. You pleaded for him to not look, and he did exactly the opposite. 

Chan watched your drunk self confessing to him on the phone from that night. No matter how hard you’d try to wriggle out of his grasp and steal your phone back, he was too strong for you to do so. When the part where you handed your phone to Changbin came up, Hyunjin flipped the camera back to selfie mode to display his face. 

Hyunjin drunkenly pointed his index finger at the camera, trying to prove a point. “And that’s how you get back at Jisung and Y/N.” Several moments later, his eyes widened, “OH My GOD, Y/N.” 

You guessed the recording ended when you threw up. Not a good memory.

Your mouth went agape. Hyunjin did both you and Jisung dirty. 

“I’m going to kill him,” you said, clenching your fist. 

“And I’m going to screen record that from my phone,” Chan laughed, extending his arm to the desk for his phone until you pushed his shoulders back down. He landed onto the bed with a light thud, wrapping his arms around your waist again. Chan stared at your flushed cheeks, softly chuckling at your persistence to prevent him from watching your most embarrassing moment in life once more.

You glanced down to his lips, admiring his prominent cupid’s bow and held in a breath. Chan stared into your eyes, his eyes trailing down your nose, and then to your lips lovingly. Grinning like a fool, he was happy to have you as his and in his arms. Chan bit his lip, stopping the softest smile from spreading across his lips. He knew he failed to keep his cool. While his grip on your waist loosened, he brought a hand to your cheek, gently cupping it with his smooth palm. 

Chan leaned in, a small smirk quirking at the corner of his lips when you nervously gulped. You didn’t even have time to think because his lips were suddenly on yours. Chan pressed on slowly, grabbing your thigh to hitch you closer to him. You fluttered your eyes shut, savoring the taste of his lips as he took control. Chan loved the feeling of having your hands run down from his shoulders and to his chest. He’s honestly the master of the teasing game, lightly nipping at your bottom lip and flicking his tongue at the entrance of your mouth. Before he could deepen the kiss, he flipped you over, so that you’d be lying under him instead. Chan didn’t know where the night would take him and you didn’t either. 

But it is what it is, so he made sure to lock the door, just in case.

[thedyingwriter]

BTS hybrid X Reader AU

Part 1 | Part 2

Character (age)

Kim Seokjin- Fox hybrid (28)

Min Yoongi- Jaguar hybrid (27)

Jung Hoseok- G. Retriever hybrid (26)

Kim Namjoon- Wolf hybrid (26)

Park Jimin- Cat hybrid (25)

Kim Taehyung- Panther hybrid (25)

Jeon Jungkook- Rabbit hybrid (23)

Reader- Dr Kang Seo Yoon (27)

Jaehyun- Seo Yoon's best friend and coworker. (25 for the sake of the Story)

Summary

{ Dr Kang Seo Yoon was a very successful researcher and doctor of the hybrids and worked at the hybrid welfare center. She lived with her six hybrids- Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin and Jungkook- who had grown up on her through the years when she found them at the rescue shelters. She was a kind and empathetic person who had used all her resources and knowledge for the betterment of the hybrid species. What will happen when she comes across an injured Panther hybrid Taehyung outside her house and decides to help him regardless of him being hardly human towards her. Will she take him in? Will he become a part of her sweet happy family? }

Chapter 1

The Injured Hybrid

" Wake up noona" Seo Yoon heard the voice of Jungkook shaking her from slumber. He nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck tickling her with his soft ears. She chuckled at his action and finally got up.

"Aish, kookie where do you get so much energy at 5 in the morning." You said gently rubbing his bunny ears. He purred.

"Noona everyone is sleeping and I have been up for a while. I didn't want to disturb you but you said you have to wake up early for your work today so I thought I should come and see" He said his cute smile on full display a faint shade of red on his cheeks.

"Let's go and make some breakfast for everyone then, you can help me" She said getting down from her bed and following Jungkook towards the kitchen. The 23 year old was always cheerful making sure everyone around him is happy too. For his age he definitely acts like a cute lil toddler but she loved him dearly.

"Kookie I plan on making fried rice and omelette for breakfast. I'll start with the rice could you whisk me some eggs?" She told him and he nodded while grabbing a large bowl and a crate of egg from the fridge.

Seo Yoon was cutting the vegetable when Jin walked in the kitchen his hair a mess. "Good morning Jin oppa" "Good morning hyung" You and Jungkook said at the same time.

She felt gentle hands at your back, untying your apron. “I can take over Y/N, why don’t you go take a bath? You have to be at the center early for the rounds right? " Jin said shaking your hair.

“Thank you oppa, what Would I do without you” she said, stepping away from the stove. If Seo Yoon weren’t cooking, Jin was. He loved the activity ever since you taught him how. Soon enough he surpassed her skills, creating mouth-watering dishes. In thanks, she rubbed his dark fox ears. He leaned into your touch, fluffy tail swaying.

"Noona shall I go and wake all the hyung while you get ready? " Jungkook asked.

"Yes kookie that would be really helpful. Tell them all to brush their teeth and come for breakfast. " She said and walked back to her room to get ready for the day. Seo Yoon and Jaehyun had to work hard today. It was an open out patient day and different shelters were bringing their hybrids for checkups. She took a shower and dressed up in jeans and a formal shirt tying her hair in a ponytail her beautiful bangs covering her forehead. She could hear the commotion of the boys from the kitchen. She took her white coat and some files and walked out towards them.

All of them were sitting on the counter eating their food. All the 6 hybrids looked cute in messy hairs and pyjamas while stuffing their mouths with food. She took out your phone and clicked a picture. The sound of the shutter gathering everyone's attention. Despite most of them being younger than her, she insisted on them calling her by her name as she felt really old though Jungkook still called her noona because he always wanted an elder sister.

" Aahh Seo Yoon, you look so pretty. Come join us for breakfast " Hobi said wagging his tail happily. She went to sit with them patting each of their hair as they smiled at her. Yoongi took her in a hug and passed her a travel coffee container filled with her favorite drink which he made each morning for her. She took a sip and groaned in pleasure while everyone laughed at her love for coffee which she shared with Yoongi. " What would I do without you Yoongi oppa. I can hardly work without your coffee. " She said and sat down to eat her breakfast.

*****

After breakfast Jimin went and kept her files and coat inside her car and Jin packed her lunch. She picked her bag and was ready to leave. Namjoon came to her and gave her a hug. It was their thing. Every hybrid hugged her before she went out showing affection. She kissed Joonie's cheeks and then hugged Hobi. Jimin and Jungkook group hugged her nearly trampling her on the floor with so much force and enthusiasm. Yoongi kissed her cheek as she went out to her car where Jin was ready to drive her to the center. He liked driving her and would spend an hr with shelter kids helping around and come back in an hour. His dark green silk scarf which acted as a collar sat perfectly on his neck. Jin dropped her at her office saying goodbye and going towards the shelters behind the building.

Seo Yoon entered her building and was immediately met with the strong smell of hospital which she has grown to call home now. She went to her locker and changed into her scrubs and came to her office which she shared with her best friend Jaehyun who as usual was late as always. 10 minutes later you heard the door open and a panting Jaehyun in his scrubs appeared before you.

"I'm sorry I'm late, before you say anything Seo Yoon, Ik it's third time this week and today we have a busy day ahead of us but what can I do I was watching a drama at night and couldn't get up early because of lack of sleep. " He ranted in a breath going on and on about how the protagonist if the drama was so stupid for not understanding the guy loves her.

She shook her head. " Aeyah!! stop talking Jae before I murder you. One day I'll give you a nice trashing for how casually you take me. " She said with a pout. He laughed at her and hugged her as she melted into giggles. She can never be mad at the kid. He was way too sweet and cute.

Somebody knocked at the door and a nurse appeared. " Dr Kang and Dr Jaehyun, the patients are here. We can start with the day. " She said and left.

******

Jae and Seo Yoon sat at the table and opened their lunches. Jin always packed food for your best friend who loved his food even though Jaehyun himself was an excellent cook.

"I'm coming to your place for the weekend. I really miss the boys. It's been a while. And this week we even have the Saturday off from shelter duty" Jae said with his mouth stuffed. She has lived so much around boys now that it's hard for her to remember what sophisticated people looked like.

"Why don't you just move in with me. You already live at my place nearly all the time when we aren't working" I scoffed. Her place is more or less like an open motel for her friends to stay in whenever they want considering the size of her big real estate. After her father's demise when she inherited his wealth. She decided to make a big place where she can adopt some hybrids and live happily. It had literally all the required materials a person could need to survive in luxury. She really had spoiled all the boys with 24x7 wifi and gaming.

Jaehyun shook his head and laughed at her scowled face. He loved teasing the older girl.

"Why noona that's an excellent idea. I'll have an amazing time with the boys and get free food. " She got up and punched his arm. She absolutely did not liked being called noona.

"I told you not to call me noona or I'll give you a good trashing. " She angrily chewed on her fish.

"Ayee you are biased Seo Yoon, why does jungkook gets to call you noona and all of us don't. " He teased her further.

"Well if you really want an answer he is more cuter, is good at everything, doesn't gives me a headache every 10 minute and definitely isn't a constant pain in my ass. " She said laughing and Jaehyun threw her a dirty look.

*******

When Seo Yoon left the hospital in the evening it was quite late then usual. Jaehyun had left half an hour ago but she stayed looking at the shelter kids who ran around each other enjoying life without a worry. She had a smile on her face and a tear in her eyes as she walked back to her home. She always liked walking back to home and it wasn't an issue as it was a highly safe residential society with great love for people and hybrid. She felt someone's presence behind her and immediately knew who it was.

"Jin oppa you didn't have to come I was on my way. " She said and turned to see a flustered Jin caught following her. He was worried that she was coming home alone so late and thought to accompany her.

"How did you know it was me? Do you have a secret third eye behind your head or something? " He said and took your backpack from you holding your hands firmly.

"Well I have been around you since the beginning. It's easy to feel your presence. It's a girl thing. " She said and looked in the front. They were very close to their home.

A young man clad in black outfit was walking in front of them. He had a slight limp and looked almost drunk from pain. As if he was drowning his sorrows. He was limping towards the other side when he suddenly disappeared from their eye sight.

"Oppa did you see that? " She asked Jin. Jin pulled her behind him and they both walked quietly towards the road crossing. A black van was parked ans the man from earlier was being pushed inside it. He was being abducted. 2 men pushing him inside. Jin quickly rushed towards the van. He pulled the man from the goons hold and layed the now almost unconscious man on the road side. This gave the goons time to flee. Jin was about to go after them when Seo Yoon stopped him.

She immediately knelt beside the man. He wasn't drunk. He was badly injured. His abdomen was bleeding and his legs were tampered. She tried helping him.

He groaned as she touched him to treat his wounds. He immediately backed up at an inhuman speed. This shook both of them.

"He's a hybrid oppa. We need to help him. " Seo Yoon said and Jin immediately called Yoongi to keep first aid ready.

The hybrid's cap fell from his face revealing two soft black cat like ears. His tale was brilliantly tucked in his pants not giving anything away that he wasn't human. He immediately tried fleeing from the human who looked at her with her almost teary eyes but he couldn't. He did not have the strength. He collapsed in her arms his world going black as the last thing he saw was the beautiful face of a teary eyed angel who somehow did not look like she wanted to harm him like other humans.

Seo Yoon was almost gonna cry after seeing the hybrid. He fell in her arms. His life almost slipping away. Jin picked him up and they rushed inside the house towards the guest room. Yoongi and the boys had kept all necessary medical aid that they know Seo Yoon kept for emergency on a table nearby. They were as astonished as the duo seeing how badly injured this hybrid was.

"What happened to you" Seo Yoon wondered out loud.

A/N: this is my first hybrid au. I hope you all enjoyed this. Please like comment and reblog if you liked it. I'll post next part soon. Put your name in the comment section below to get tagged in the next part.

[okageshadowkingfannovel]

Book 1. The Boy Meets the King

Chapter 1.

In a normal unsuspecting kitchen, a former adventurer stands before a stove, stirring the contents of a pot and humming to herself. In her early forties, she’s a warm, pleasant looking woman with pony-tailed reddish brown hair and soft brown eyes. She might have been the hero of this story about two decades ago, but her adventures are long since passed. The only adventures for her today are those of being a devoted wife and mother, and that means preparing dinner.

It’s just after lunch and suddenly, the younger of the woman’s two children bursts into the kitchen. She is a slender pretty girl with strawberry blond pigtails and vibrant green eyes. She is Annie, a teenager, but also, not the hero of this story. In fact, she has very little interest outside of keeping herself popular amongst the teenagers of Tenel village and finding a satisfactory boyfriend.

“Hey Mom, what’s for dinner?”

“Oh Annie,” Mom starts while casting a smile over her shoulder, “you just had lunch not too long ago and you’re already thinking about dinner?”

Annie twists a dainty finger into the strands of one pigtail. “I was just asking. It smells so good. Tell me, Mom. I wanna know.”

At this moment, the woman’s eldest child enters the kitchen, but it takes her and Annie a too long moment to notice him.

“Well, I’ll say that- Oh! Ari!”

“See? Ari’s come to find out too.”

The boy called Ari is 16 years old. He has a sapling like frame - slender, scrawny, almost seeming bendy. Shaggy red hair falls in long locks around his face and across his forehead, and his large eyes are emerald green. He’s wearing a blue striped sleeveless shirt, a black vest with gold clasps and a skull patch on the chest, and long khaki trousers. He doesn’t speak up much for himself and the whole town of Tenel agrees that his most notable quality is how unremarkable he is.

That being said, this quiet ordinary boy is the hero for this peculiar tale.

“Come on, Mom! What is it? It smells like stew … or steak?” Annie carries on.

“Well, what do you think it might be, Ari?”

Ari courteously sniffs the air, shrugs, and answers. “I don’t know.”

Mom looks slightly disappointed that her son gave no guess, but she smiles anyway and says, “well, tonight’s dinner is … a secret!”

Annie rolls her eyes. “Mom! That’s so unfair.”

“Oh! That reminds me, Ari. Your dad found a funny bottle on his way home last night. It’s right there on the table.”

She gestures towards the kitchen table where, seeming very out of place upon the normal white table cloth and next to the three branched candelabra, there indeed sits a strange looking bottle. It is a gaudy purple with an intricate green pattern necklacing the thinly tapering opening. Two handles spring out and curve down to the bottom to make for easy carrying. Four large, candy like turquoise gemstones are embedded into the bottle’s curves.

“We can’t get the cap off,” his mother admits, “don’t you think it’s strange?”

Observing more closely, Ari notices the cork very firmly shoved into the opening.

He reaches out a finger and pokes it.

A low muffled moan sounds from deep within the bottle.

Ari leans in and sniffs at the cork.

All he catches is an overwhelming waft of mold.

Finally, he firmly grasps the neck of the bottle and pulls at the cork.

But it won’t budge, not even a wiggle.

“See?” says his mother, abandoning the stove to draw closer to the bottle, “I wonder what’s in there.”

There’s a sparkle in her eyes, a far off wandering look, a hint of the curious adventurer she used to be.

“Mom!” Annie breaks her mother’s reverie, “it’s pointless to keep a bottle we can’t open. Throw it away.”

To strike her point, Annie flips a pigtail on the last word.

“Ah! Well, let’s see … What should we do?”

Their mother hesitates a moment in thought. And then, she lights up with realization.

“Oh! That reminds me! I forgot to pick up bread! But I can’t leave the stove. What should I do?”

Before Ari can make any sort of suggestion, his sister steps over him.

“Oh darn, I wish I could help you out, Mom, but I have a test tomorrow and I really need to study. My future is on the line!”

With that, Annie turns around and makes a dash out of the kitchen.

Unsurprisingly, Ari notices the sounds of her footsteps are heading out the front door instead of up the stairs to her room where her school books lay waiting.

“Well then, Ari,” says his mother, “go down to the bakery in the village and pick up a loaf of bread for me. They’ll just put it on our tab, so you can just run in and grab it. Thank you, dear.”

His mother turns back to her stove and her humming. Ari is about to leave the kitchen when she whips around again.

“Oh! While you’re out, why don’t you stop by Town Hall and see your father.” She turns back to her cooking, wistfully, “ah, my love, hard at work. If only I could see your father in action. Such rapture …” she trails off to herself.

Feeling repulsed and uncomfortable with his mother’s personal musings, as teenagers ordinarily do, Ari finally leaves the kitchen.

The family home is a mansion that lays like a sprawled out reptile just south-east of the village of Tenel. It sits fatly in a clearing of pine trees, just a stone’s throw from the village road. It wears jagged stones in various states of grey, reaches tall, dizzying pointed towers up to mingle with the tree tops, and caps itself with crooked blue shingles. It keeps itself company with a dried up fountain in the front courtyard, a tiny, but ancient ancestral graveyard, and a huge, thick, wooden gate at the entrance to keep all of it in.

Ari steps out into the courtyard, shielding his eyes from the sunlight already beginning to sharpen through the trees as afternoon slips into evening. He notices Annie waiting for him at the top of the stone steps that snake down to the front gate.

“So, did she tell you what’s for dinner?” she asks, blocking his path, “come on, tell me.”

“What happened to your homework?”

Annie starts to tease her pigtail with a wiggling finger.

“Well! I’m going out on a twilight date with Morris before dinner. To polish my feminine airs, I have to build up experience while I’m young. My book says so too …”

“What kind of book says that?”

“It’s one of Mom’s old books. What was the name again? … Oh! ‘Controlling Guys Made Easy.’”

Before Ari can protest, Annie spins around and skips on down the stairs.

“Anyway, enjoy your errand, Ari!” she calls before disappearing through the wooden gate.

Ari sighs, figuring there was little he could have said or done to make things play out differently.

With hands in pockets, he lazily makes his way over to the small graveyard by the pathway. He likes to say hello upon passing the three residents. The stones are so old that most of the lettering has been worn away, but Ari makes out what he can and makes up the rest:

‘RIP Nameless Hero - Well, we think he must have a name, but nobody asked him.’

‘Man who drank, gambled, and died from poisonous fish - just as he planned. RIP’

‘Person who touched the knowledge of the Library.’

After 16 years, Ari still knows nothing beyond these half-deciphered inscriptions, but he gives his regards all the same. When satisfied, he heads on through the big wooden gate that leads him to a meandering dirt path. It winds through the grass, between rotted logs and small rocky hills, untangling Ari from the clusters of trees until it finds the main road. A nearby sign helpfully points out to any casually passing tourist:

‘North: Tenel Village/Church

West: Tenel Field & Madril

East: Nameless Dwelling’

Ari wonders if his family will ever decide to name their house so the sign could be a bit more specific.

“Hmmm, Nancy? Or Connie?”

At the crossroads stand two boys about Ari’s age, Levi and Nathan. Dark haired Nathan is the pudgier fellow, while Levi is lanky and alight with flaming orange hair.

“Huh?”

“Whoa!” Nathan exclaims, his fat frame jumping, “Oh! It’s you. You scared me, Ari! When did you get here? I didn’t even notice.”

“Ari, you look real gloomy,” says Levi, “hey, you know what? The circus is coming to the field over there tomorrow night!” He gestures vaguely in the direction of Tenel Field.

“Really?” Ari replies noncommittally.

“I, I, I’m definitely gonna ask Julia out this time! I, I, I will do it! And me and Julia are gonna go out on a romantic date!”

“I wonder who I should ask out,” Nathan muses in the face of his friend’s determination, “Ari, why don’t you ask somebody out too? It’s the circus!”

Ari chuckles and shrugs his shoulders in what he hopes is a ‘cool, but not caring too much’ display. “Sure, I’ll just narrow down my list a bit and ask one out.”

It doesn’t come off as cool as he hoped.

“Ha!” Levi bursts, “I bet he doesn’t have the guts to ask a girl out! Ha ha ha! Chicken!”

The skinny boy goes the extra mile and begins flapping his arms and clucking.

“Anyway, I better get on over to the village,” says Ari before the soul crushing embarrassment can descend, “got an errand to run.”

“You’d better go quick then,” says Nathan, “they’re closing the town gates earlier and earlier. The ghosts and monsters from Tenel field have been wandering closer to town, I heard.”

The hauntings and prowlings of Tenel Field are nothing new to Ari’s ears. All his life, he’s heard the townspeople complaining about the beasts and deadly things that roam wild and how it’s getting worse every year. Ari hears most people, especially the older ones, blaming it on something evil going on out West in Madril that’s driving the wild things nutty. It’s gotten to the point where Tenel’s posted a sentry on the path between Tenel and the field to keep kids and the like in town and to warn everyone if something should wander in. Ari never gives the matter much thought, reasoning that interesting things like monster encounters only happen to interesting people. And it’s so rare to see ghosts come floating in out of the field.

But the sun does seem ever so slightly lower than it was when he first stepped out of the house.

“Right, I’ll be quick.”

With that, Ari leaves them to their great girl debate and heads toward the main gates of Tenel. For now, the entrance is wide open, yawning its welcome to any passerby bored enough to visit the little town. But later, as it gets darker, the gates will eventually be shut and locked, as Tenel residents cling to the illogical belief that doors and locks can keep out ghosts.

As he enters, he notices a pretty blond girl in a white dress standing by the inn and looking absentmindedly off into the distance. Further putting his errand on hold, Ari walks up to her.

“Hey Julia.”

She doesn’t respond.

Ari waits patiently.

It’s alright. I’m used to being ignored.

Julia looks on for another moment or two. Ari continues waiting.

Any day now …

“Huh? Oh, Ari!” she says, her gaze finally shifting onto him, “I was daydreaming. Sorry about that. Hey, did you know the circus is coming tomorrow night?”

Julia and Ari have been friends since childhood, and though time and puberty have pulled them in different directions, they still consider themselves at the very least good friends. Typically, Julia isn’t so spacey - it’s just an ‘Ari thing.’

“Yeah, Nathan and Levi mentioned it.”

“Isn’t it great? It’s the circus!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty great.”

She looks at him, blue eyes wide and expectant.

“I mean,” he continues, “really great. Very exciting.”

She still says nothing. He waves a hand in front of her eyes, wondering if she’s sunk into another daydream. He does have that effect on people sometimes.

“So, aren’t you gonna ask me to go to the circus with you?” she says suddenly.

“Oh! Well, yeah,” Ari stumbles, “um, I mean, I need to check in with my folks, but … would you … would you like to …”

Before Ari can finish his bare minimum of a question, Julia takes a step back and giggles.

“Sorry, Ari.”

Without even knowing the rest of the sentence, Ari can tell she doesn’t seem very sorry.

“Somebody else already asked me. If you’d have asked me earlier …”

Ari thinks about maybe saying something in protest or in his own defense, but decides it’s not worth it as she makes her way past him.

“Um,” she says, pausing before she walks away completely, “Some time soon, Ari, I … I need to tell you something important … so … see you.”

She takes off running, disappearing fast into the town - an impressive feat given its small size and even smaller populace. Ari isn’t sure what to make of Julia. Teenagerdom is difficult enough to navigate for himself without the complex enigma of teenage girls thrown into the mix. As with most problems, puzzles, and peculiarities, Ari shrugs and carries on with his business.

As he passes it, Ari notices the sign on the Parm Inn door:

‘CLOSED due to water shortage - not that we get any guests anyway. Ha! - Parm Inn Landlord.’

The posting has been there for several weeks. Similar notices decorate the doors of ‘Tinkers,’ the blacksmith and ‘Gulp,’ the bar:

‘Can’t do business without water. I’ll be sleeping. - Tinkers Owner’

‘Closed due to shortage! And for those who owe me money, PAY UP QUICK! - Gulp Hostess.’

Ari can only wonder how much longer before these places will have to close for good. Tenel is already pretty small. Any smaller and they’d have to start calling themselves ‘a small cluster of houses and shops’ instead of a town.

“Ah! Ari!” someone suddenly exclaims.

Ari turns to see the butcher standing outside his shop, just across from the inn. A man with an egg like figure and neatly parted brown hair, the butcher breathes out a heavy sigh as he clutches at his chest.

“You gave me a fright, Ari. I didn’t notice ya standing there at first.”

“Sorry, Mr. Kellogg.”

“Shame about the water shortage, isn’t it? Thankfully, we’ve got some stored up for emergencies like this, but we’re getting mighty low. Can’t say how much longer we’ll be able to stay open.”

“Yeah, I wonder what’s caus-”

“You like beef, Ari?”

He is a little startled by the question.

“Oh, well, I don’t dislike it, sir.”

“I’ve got a great deal on ground beef. One pound, 20 sukel. Figure you might not be able to get any tomorrow - if we can’t open, I mean.”

A few minutes later, Ari walks out of the butcher shop with a wrapped up pound of ground beef under his arm and his wallet 20 sukel lighter.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” calls Mr. Kellogg as he locks the door to his shop to leave for the day, “get home safe.”

Ari waves as the butcher turns to make his way home. He doubts he’ll have business there, but Ari hopes the butcher is open tomorrow. As he makes his way towards the bakery, he passes by two men deep in conversation and nervousness.

“Oh dear, this just won’t do. The water supply has stopped and almost all the stores are closed. It’s under investigation now … do you think it might be related to ghosts?”

“All I know is they’re saying there are tons of ghost problems in Madril. And they’re a big, machine town. Totally different class than Tenel. If they can’t handle the ghosts and monsters, we don’t stand a chance.”

The other man nods weakly, looking very pale. “We’ll be in big trouble.”

Ari remembers his mother’s suggestion couched in wifely affection and decides to go visit his father. He passes Gulp, Tinkers, the miscellaneous shop known as ‘The Other One’, and several homes. All the way in the back of town, atop a small hill, is the church and right beside it the Tenel Village Office. The church sits quietly and patiently, having been unused and unvisited for several weeks now. Ari thinks the cream color of the tall rounded church towers is starting to look like spoiled milk. Green stains are creeping up the sides and the forest surrounding Tenel is starting to reclaim it.

A sign before the tightly shut door reads:

‘Until further notice, please do not enter the church. - Tenel Village Office’

Feeling helpless in the face of such a polite, pathetic notice, Ari walks over to the Tenel Village Office.

Inside, the village office is busy and hectic. Immediately, Ari spots his father sitting behind his usual desk at the front, but all around him, people rush and run and flitter about like a swarm of frustrated, inconvenienced bees. Even their talk sounds like buzzing.

Ari carefully navigates his way towards that front desk. Ari’s father is a short, stringy sort of man. He parts his dark brown hair straight and neat down the middle, and he looks at the world through thick, soda bottle glasses. He has the look of a man who believes in aliens and psychic phenomenon. If one were to ask him about such things, he could easily go on for hours. Ari can attest to it. His father stares intently into a stack of pages in the middle of his desk. He stares as if staring hard enough will burst the pages into flames or cast them into an alternate dimension where he doesn’t have to look at them anymore. Ari is sorry to see these efforts aren’t working.

“Oh! Hello there, Ari. Here to see your cool father at work?”

Ari rolls his eyes, but still smiles.

“What d’ya think? Too cool for words, huh? I redefine ‘cool.’ Ha!”

Now the smile is starting to fade. Ari’s father has perfected the art of being too corny.

“Sorry, sorry,” his father chuckles, “as you can see, the office is in a bit of a panic over the water shortage. We’re doing everything we can to find the cause, but …”

As his father trails off, Ari sees his shoulders slump and behind the happy-go-luck dork that is his father, Ari can see the exhausted Assistant Manager.

“On top of that, the Classification Tables will be arriving soon from the Royal City. That always puts the office on edge.”

Ari knows vaguely about the Classification Tables. His father has cursed it multiple times throughout the year. Supposedly, the village office sends a character report of each Tenel resident to the Royal City and then the city sends back a huge packet of tables that identify and categorize each and every citizen. Ari frequently asks his father how he is ‘classified,’ but his father usually responds with some corny joke.

‘The Assistant Manager’s son.’ ‘The eldest child at the Nameless Dwelling.’ ‘Some Shady Guy.’

So, Ari doesn’t really ask about it anymore. He just accepts that the Classification Table causes his father a lot of headache and woe. Once, Ari tried asking one of his father’s coworkers what the purpose was of the Classification Tables. Her response was unsatisfactory.

“Oh! I didn’t see you there! You’re the assistant manager’s son, aren’t you? Well, the Classification Tables, they … well, they … they maintain order of course! They help the town run smoothly. Why else would the Royal City have us do all this? Now, please leave me alone. I’m quite busy.”

So, Ari understands the weight when, on top of the water shortage problem, his father says he also has to deal with the Royal City’s Classification Tables.

“Anyway, what’s for dinner?” his father asks suddenly, the joy lifting his shoulders back up from their slump, “Ah, I wanna go home. I miss your mom.”

Ari chuckles. “No idea. She wouldn’t tell me. Says it’s a surprise.”

“Ha, yeah, that sounds like your mother.”

“She asked me to pick up bread.”

“Oh! Well, you better get moving, son. It’s getting dark out. The town will be closing soon.”

“Great seeing you, Dad,” says Ari as he turns to leave, nearly crashing into a speeding intern.

Ari steps back outside and, just as his dad said, the dark is noticeably beginning to descend on the town. He rushes down the hill to the Bakery, hoping the owner hasn’t decided to close doors early due to the dark looming in. The bell above the door clangs to life as he rushes in. Despite that, the husband and wife who run the Bakery carry on with their personal business, not seeming to notice Ari standing in the doorway. He steps up to the main counter where the wife stands, her back to Ari as she sorts through the baked goods on the back shelf.

The smell of freshly baked bread is intoxicating, filling Ari with warmth until the harsh pang of hunger in his stomach drives it away.

“Excuse me,” he says.

The portly Mrs. Bakster is singing to herself as she counts and pokes at the remaining pastries. It’s not a very good song and Mrs. Bakster isn’t very good at singing it.

“Hello? Mrs. Bakster?”

“Huh?” Finally, she whips around. “Oh! It’s you, Ari! Don’t I always tell you? A boy should speak up!”

These types of reprimands are nothing new. Mrs. Bakster has many opinions and is very keen on sharing them.

“Now, now, don’t harangue the boy, dear,” calls Mr. Bakster from across the shop, “don’t mind her too much, Ari. She’s got a sharp tongue, but a soft heart really.”

Ari smiles good humoredly, simply wanting to get the bread and get home for dinner.

“You’ve come to pick up bread for your mother, right?” says Mrs. Bakster as she reaches over to a shelf and pulls off a fine, golden colored loaf. With speed and finesse, she neatly wraps the loaf in paper and then, gently hands it to Ari. “Here you are. Don’t squeeze it too much. Don’t want to crush it.”

“Yes, Mrs. Bakster, thank you.”

“By the way, Ari, before you go, I wanted to ask - anything bothering you?”

“Now, dear!” chides Mr. Bakster.

“Come on! Keep your chin up, boy!” Mrs. Bakster carries on, ignoring her husband, “girls like the assertive ones, you know? And I know you’ve got a lot of potential, Ari. You can be anything you want. You just got to assert yourself, and girls will be all over you.”

Ari smiles and nods, backing away slowly.

“Alright, alright. Get on home and get that to your mother. I’ve got a dinner to get ready and a husband to feed, you know.”

“Yes … thank you, Mrs. Bakster. You too, Mr. Bakster. Have a good evening.”

Ari turns and whips out the door before the baker can be inspired with another round of opinions. Once outside, Ari is surprised to find Annie waiting.

“Ari, you done with your errands? You’ve been gone forever.”

“Sorry, yeah. I’m done.”

“What’s the matter?” she asks, and then eyes the bakery, “oh, did she lecture you again?”

Yeah, sure, make me relive it, why don’t ya?

The thought translates into a shrug.

“Let me guess,” says Annie playfully, “Oh, Ari, you’ve got to speak up for yourself more. You practically blend into someone else’s shadow.”

Ari gives her a brotherly glare.

“Oh well, at least there are some people around here who see some good in you … Julie, for instance.” Annie giggles mercilessly. “You lucky guy.”

All the way home, Annie teases her brother about the baker woman’s “advice” and Julie’s “affections.” But Ari takes it all without a word, wondering to himself about lots of different topics from that busy afternoon. He thinks about the water shortage and about his classification from the Royal City and about Julie picking someone else over him and about what it actually means to ‘blend into someone else’s shadow.’

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5 • Chapter 6 • Chapter 7 • Chapter 8 • Chapter 9 • Chapter 10 • Chapter 11 • Chapter 12 • Chapter 13 • Chapter 14 • Chapter 15 • Chapter 16 - Finale

NOTE: Okage Shadow King is owned by Sony Computer Entertainment and Zener Works. This novelization is purely a fan-work and the writer claims no ownership over the characters, general plot line(s), etc.

[conaionaru]

Moral of the story (Modern Bjorn)

Who knew

Synopsis: As a single father, Bjorn doesn't have much time to move on from his wife Thorunn. When Marjorie Potts stumbles into his life.

Warning: Slowburn, friends to lovers, modern au, Siggy lives, abusive ex

I don't own the gifs.

Unstrapping his little daughter from her car seat, Bjorn made his way to his house. It was new, a gift from his father to have a fresh start. It was closer to Ragnar's new family. Siggy liked being close to her uncles and little cousins.

The five-year-old run after him; her pigtails were bouncing happily as she clutched her stuffed bear in her hands.

Banging caused the two to stop. By the neighbor's house, a car parked on the lawn, ruining the grass. A man stood by the door, trying to get in. But somebody from the inside struggled to keep him out.

"Who is he?" He heard an older lady ask as three grandmas walked by.

"No idea. Never seen him before. The girl lives all alone."

"Maybe an old boyfriend. Mabel. Call the police on him. He is up to no good."

True to their word, the drunken man banged on the door and screamed loudly. "Let go, you, bitch! Fuxking whore, though you could fool me? Moving won't save you, Marjorie!"

Bjorn frowned at the yelling and left his daughter with the three women. He marched to the man just as he managed to rip the door open.

"Stop running!"

"Hey! Let her go."

The man turned around to look at Bjorn stalking towards him. "Don't interrupt. We are in the middle of something."

The redheaded girl used the moment to try and slam the door closed, but the man put his foot in the crack and slammed the door open. The force bashed the girl's head against the wood and collapsing on the ground in pain. She cursed as he raised his arm to hit her, but Bjorn wrapped her arm around his wrist and wrenched him off her.

The flashing lights of the police alerted them that the fight was over. The man ripped himself out of Bjorn's chokehold and pointed an accusing finger at him. The Ragnarsson ignored him and helped the girl up from the ground. "Are you alright? Do you see double?"

"Thanks."

The ginger looked over her shoulder at the yelling men getting restrained by the police. "I will fucking kill you, bitch! How dare you cuff me! Wait till my father hears about this! He will get you all fired! Do you hear me?!"

"Maam." A policewoman called out and walked to Bjorn and his neighbor with a medical kit in her hands. "How about we patch you up, and you can make a statement."

"I can do it here too."

The policewoman nodded and took out a notepad after patching up her head wound. The scratch on her forehead was bleeding a little bit and probably hurt like a bitch. The old ladies carried Siggy to Bjorn, who also had to make a statement. 

During his interview, he heard the girl's conversation with the cops. "He is my ex. Andrew Doyle. D-O-Y-L-E."

"Has he beat you before? Any attacks of any kind? Before or after your break-up."

"During. This is the first time he saw me since we split up. I moved to have a new start."

When all the turmoil slowed, Bjorn was left alone with his daughter and neighbor, who looked at her busted door in disdain. "I know someone who can repair it. I could call him."

The ginger looked back at him and frowned before sighing and nodding. She put her hands in her pockets as she watched the tall, broad man fish his phone out of his pocket while his little daughter runs around him in circles.

She was a cute child with dark brown eyes and strawberry blonde curly hair in two pigtails. Attentive and curious, stealing glances at the strange woman every once in a while. 

"He will come to look at it in two hours."

"Thanks... I don't know your name."

Bjorn chuckled and extended his hand to her. "Bjorn Lothbrok. This is my daughter Siggy. We are new here."

She smiled at him halfheartedly and shrugged, shaking his hand. "Joy Potts. A resident for a month. Welcome to the neighborhood, I guess." She turned on her heel to go into her home, but Bjorn called out to her once more.

"You could wait at my house. It would be safer." Joy frowned at his offer and tried to decline, but Siggy run-up to her, smiling. 

"You could play with me! Or do my hair. My Daddy is bad at it."

"I am not." He tried to protest, but Siggy shook her head and looked up at the ginger with puppy dog eyes. 

Fuck me. "Sure."

And so she ended up in a house way too huge for a single father and his little daughter. The guy had five guest bedrooms! If he rented the thing out, he could buy another car instead of the Mercedes parked out front. But the tall blonde seemed like a good guy, you know, for a rich dude. 

Joy subtly looked over his kitchen as he tried to cook something for all of them. The wine bottle on the top shelf seemed old, judging by the lair of dust on it, and very welcoming. "Do you want some? I could open it." 

She shook her head and smiled sheepishly at Bjorn's confused look. "Just trying to seize you up. You know, if I am not in the house of a psychopath." 

He chuckled and pointed at the five-year-old girl painting behind the dinner table. "I have a kid."

"Psychos have sperm too. I am sure attractive ones have some kids. Ted Bundy made on in prison." She shrugged and smirked at his bewildered expression. He invited her into his home, let him bear the consequences. She was way too fucking tired to tip-toe around him.

"Fair point." He shrugged and stirred the sauce in the pot. Joy shook her head at the technique and walked over to him to peer into the pot.

"Does food involve my stay here?" Bjorn nodded and grinned proudly at his creation that...honestly looked poisoned. "I will pass then."

"It doesn't look that bad!"

"Daddy's right! It smells worse!" Siggy called from her spot on the dinner table and run over to Joy and her father to show them her picture. It was a cute scene of her, her father, and many other people with names over them. Some of the letters were backward. But Joy could make out the words "Ubbe" and "Ivar." The last one looked like an angry troll.

"It's not so bad. I am sure it can be saved." With an unsure grin, Joy tasted the pasta sauce. It tasted horrid, so she spent the next two minutes perfecting the disaster enough so it could be edible. 

The dinner was rather quiet; Siggy ate the spaghetti happily, getting the sauce all over her. Bjorn opened the bottle of white wine, so hopefully, the awkward tension would ease. Joy was never really a people person. She liked her privacy and scandals to be her own business. After her relationship with Andrew, she lost all her friends and wasn't that bummed about it. Moving far away is easier when you had no attachments. No need to burn bridges to keep yourself safe when they were all ashes already.

"So... Why did you move here? Usually, people like you don't move into neighborhoods filled with old ladies. Or is that your type?" Maybe the wine wasn't the best decision, but she always made the wrong choices. So no surprise there, let her big mouth insult the guy that gave her shelter and fed her.

Bjorn just chuckled and looked at Siggy's adorable happy face. "I needed a quiet place to raise my daughter. Far away from my teenage brothers and my dad's new wife. And you? What's a girl like you doing here?"

Joy smirked and finished her third glass of red wine. "Escaping mostly."

"From him?"

The smile dropped from her face. Why was she even shocked at the answer? He did save her from Andrew and heard her talk with the cops. "Him and other people. Rumors, knowing eyes, judgment. It was tiring, and I needed an escape. So I thought, where would no one normally want to move? And I came here."

"No one but me, I guess. Or do I not count as normal? A guy like me? What does that even mean, by the way?"

She poured the rest of the bottle into her glass and swirled the liquid around, trying to sort her thoughts. "A guy that came from money, obviously. Otherwise, you couldn't afford a place like this. And you also invited a stranger you just met into your home. What if I was a psychopath that could kill you?"

"We can't both by psychos, can we? What would the odds be?" They both shared a laugh, Siggy asking for seconds right after. Joy couldn't look at the messy face, so she took a napkin and wiped at Siggy's face. 

"Nooo. I want to be messy. It's like make-up. It will make me pretty." Siggy whined while Joy and Bjorn laughed at her. 

"It doesn't match your skin tone, honey." Joy joked and threw the dirty napkin away. The doorbell rang right after, so Bjorn went to open the door. The man that walked in after him, was tall and lanky. 

He was the one that was supposed to fix the door. So Floki, Bjorn, Siggy, and Joy went to her home to look at the damage. The ginger led them into her living room, where Floki spread his tools and went to hang down the door. She would need a new lock and some damage control, but it would be working within the hour. 

Siggy looked around the room and then settled on the couch to watch TV. After asking Joy to do something with her hair, of course. Bjorn used the moment to look around. Despite her living here longer than him, Joy's house was impersonal. Just easily decorated to pack up faster if needed. 

The Lothbrok understood that she was probably on the run from Andrew, but the house looked so empty. No photos or anything to show that someone actually lived here. One thing that caught his attention were dog tags on the wall. "They were my dad's. Marine."

"My brother wanted to enlist, but our Dad talked him out of it. Said Ubbe wouldn't handle the violence and blood full time. Ivar still holds it over him until now." Bjorn snorted in amusement, causing Joy to laugh too. 

"Annoying little shit, brother? Know what that's like."

"Brothers?"

Joy rolled her eyes and looked at him, resting her chin against the back of the beige couch. "Two. One older, one younger. Annoying, overprotective, and a nightmare to live with as a teenage girl."

"Well, there are 13 years between me and Ubbe, who's the oldest. Bringing girls home was very hard when a little boy is following you like a lost puppy." 

Joy snorted and grinned at Bjorn's confused look. "Boohoo. Poor Bjorn couldn't get it on. My brothers threatened my first boy friend, not even dating, just project partners. The guy couldn't even walk in the same hall as me. My youngest brother banged pots outside my door after I came home from a party for the first time."

"My dad used to blast Queen right next to my ear. Sat there and laughed at my misery when he found me hugging the toilet. I still think he has blackmail material from that time."

Laughing at their pasts was so easy. As if they had known each other for years. It has been a long time since Bjorn could spend time with someone that wasn't family or work-related. "So the door is fixed. It looks like nothing ever happened."

Floki giggled while walking in. Joy jumped up to pay him, but the tall stranger stopped her. "Anything for a friend of Bjorn."

"We aren't exactly-"

"Thank you, Floki. Say hi to Helga and Angrboða for me!" Bjorn cut her off and led the men out, saying something about a playdate between their girls.

Floki looked the tall man over and grinned. "You know, you could bring Siggy tomorrow and ask the girl out. You aren't really subtle."

"I don't like Joy like that. I know her for a few hours."

"Never stop you before, Big Bear." The younger male mock glared at Floki, who just snickered and left.

When he walked back into the room, Joy and Siggy played a card game, and his daughter's hair was in two braids. "Strange fellow, isn't he?"

He shrugged and went to help Siggy win. "Known him since birth. He is my parent's friend since they were all my age. His wife and daughter are sweet, though."

After the game, Bjorn took Siggy to leave, the little girl hugging Joy as a goodbye. He looked at them and sighed. "I wanted to ask you... Would you like to go out for a drink? As neighbors and new friends, nothing serious."

Joy smirked at his stammering and nodded. "Are you going to ask the old ladies out too? I would like to see that."

"Oh yes, I have a knitting lesson planned out with each one." They laughed again and parted ways.

Joy stood there, dreading what would come during the "date." She was in no mood for a relationship so soon after Andrew. Especially after today. But if he really wants to just be friends, then fine. If he ends up in the friend zone, that's on him. 

So the next day, she spent minimal time on her make-up and clothes. If he wants to be friends, he should get used to her looking like a gremlin. But she better ease him into it; we don't want him to get a heart attack so young, do we?

Sitting at the bar and waiting for him felt weird. Joy felt desperate and ridiculous in her jeans and leather jacket. She felt like everyone kept staring, and every laugh felt like it was meant to be about her. 

 'Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby

Yeah, I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby

Listen to Iron Maiden, baby, with me, ooh

The song on the stereo made her feel old. It was released in the 2000s when she was a kid. She listened to that song constantly when it came up on the radio and sang along. Now the young people in the bar looked at the stereo in confusion, unfamiliar to the hit. 

"But he doesn't know who I am. And he doesn't give a damn about me." Bjorn sang from behind her, grinning at her shocked expression.

"You sing fine, but your timing's shit." Joy teased as he sat down and ordered a whiskey like her.

"I was held up, spilled something over my shirt, and had to change. But I am here." He grinned at her and froze. What were they supposed to talk about now? The weather? Sports? Since when was he so bad at this?!

Joy looked at him with curious eyes and sighed. "I just want to remind you, no feelings."

"That won't be hard." Bjorn shook his head; Joy raised an eyebrow at him.

"What's that supposed to mean? Am I that ugly?"

"More like I am too busy with Siggy. And I guess you aren't ready either. Moving on from her mom is... hard. I would rather like a friend that doesn't want to see me naked or something from me other than company."

Joy smiled at nodded. "Good. I am not the best adept for that, but your funeral."

"Why do you think that?"

Telling him about her severe self-hate problems and antisocial lifestyle wasn't an option. So she decided to go another route. "Just saying that how we met isn't the best friendship set up. You don't usually see that in movies."

Bjorn shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "Well, this isn't a movie. Or do you see hidden cameras here, huh?"

"You got me there, Lothbrok. So tell me, neighbor... Where are you from?"

"My Dad lives in Kattegat, Mom, and sister in Hedeby. I lived in between and with Dad at the end. What about you?"

Joy played with a strand of her hair, bobbing her head to the end of "teenage dirtbag." 

How does she know who I am?

And why does she give a damn about me?

I've got two tickets to Iron Maiden, baby

Come with me Friday, don't say maybe

I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like you

She looked down into her glass and smiled nostalgically. "We moved from Topeka, Kansas, to Oslo when Mom was pregnant with my big brother. Lived there ever since. So when the shit with Andrew was over, I moved here to Copenhagen. I figured big city, fewer people to know me. But I wanted a quieter neighborhood, so here I am."

"What about work? Do you work here in the city?" 

"Right now, nowhere. I used to bartend before, but right now, I do occasional work. Watching kids, cleaning houses, I tried gardening once. It ended badly."

"So that's why your lawn looks shitty." 

Joy gasped and hit the giggling Bjorn on the shoulder. "What's your job? Profesional asshole? Is that just part-time?"

"A hobby, really. I worked in my dad's company with Ubbe but didn't have time for Siggy. So now I am a personal trainer. So if you want to learn how to beat people up, tell me." She smiled at the invitation and clanged glasses with him.

"To a nice friendship between two idiots." 

"Skol!"

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Seeing Double (Part 2)

Summary: After the Winchesters show up at Jensen’s apartment, they discover getting the boys home may not be possible...

Part 1

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Alpha!Jensen (platonic, brotherly relationship)

Word Count: 6,200ish

Warnings: language

________

“Ow,” said Dean, Danneel pulling back into a corner of the kitchen, hiding behind a cup of coffee and Jensen. “Why’d she pinch me?”

“I was really hoping I was going crazy,” she said, resting her head against Jensen’s back with a sigh. “Maybe there’s a gas leak…”

“They’re real,” said Jensen, running his hands over his face, shaking his head at Sam. “At least Sam’s babysitting the kids so we can sort this out.”

“Uh huh,” she said, setting her coffee down and going back to Dean, leaning into his face.

“Hey, you look like that dick angel that screwed us over. Sister Jo,” frowned Dean, squinting at her. 

“Excuse me?” she said with a scoff, Jensen grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back.

“She acts too. If you see somebody that looks like Ruby, don’t go stabbing her either,” said Jensen, sighing loudly. “You guys are great and everything but can you like...not be here?”

“Ah. So when you come to our universe you expect a little hospitality but when we get here-“

“Point made,” said Jensen, glancing around the apartment. “What do we do with them?”

“Well I’m supposed to fly home with the kids today,” said Danneel. “You have to be at work in like an hour.”

“Hey, Sammy and I are big boys. We don’t need a babysitter,” said Dean. 

“Oh, yes you do,” said Jensen, grabbing Dean’s jacket collar, getting a nasty glare in return. “You guys are...you’re different, remember?”

“Oh. You’re worried-“

“There is no ‘Dean’s whiny juice’ here,” said Jensen. “I know everything now so-“

“Could someone explain what you’re talking about?” asked Danneel.

“In a minute,” said Dean, shifting in his seat. “I gotta use your bathroom.”

“Down the hall,” said Jensen. Dean got up from his seat, Sam wandering over. “Thanks for taking the brunt of the three musketeers this morning.”

“They’re cute. I could kind of hear what you were talking about and I should tell you-“

“What happened?” said Dean, storming out of the bathroom. “What...I can’t...there’s not...I am an Alpha!”

“Different universe,” said Sam with a shrug. “I’m not happy either but I sort of like it.”

“Again, someone clue me in please.”

“Okay,” said Danneel, nodding her head after a moment. “Okay. I’m not okay but okay.” 

“Can they just hide in the apartment until we figure something out?” asked Jensen.

“Fine,” she said. “Don’t break anything and I swear if you two bring any freaky stuff in here-“

“Yes mam,” said Sam.

“If you two are gonna be here, at least help De out with packing up the kids for their flight,” said Jensen. “I’m gonna be late.”

“Going to work, actor boy?” teased Dean. “We’ll hold down the fort for you.”

“Just do what she tells you and you’ll be fine.”

“Rough morning?” said Jared, patting Jensen’s back in the lunch line. “You look like you’re having a day.”

“That’s a word for it,” grumbled Jensen, Jared chuckling. “What?”

“We should go out tonight for dinner. Neither one of us have early call times tomorrow,” said Jared.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Jensen.

“Fine. I’ll come over and we’ll order something,” said Jared.

“I’d rather...fuck. If De knows then Gen is gonna know soon and you might as well hear it from me,” said Jensen.

“Hear what?” asked Jared.

“Well…”

“No way,” said Jared, poking Sam in the chest that night.

“Why’s he poking me?” asked Sam, Jared doing it again.

“Because he’s excited. Jared,” said Jensen, Jared pulling his hand back. “I don’t know what to do with these guys.”

“Just let us head on over to the bunker, we do the spell and then we’re back where we belong,” said Dean.

“The bunker doesn’t exist, just like magic doesn’t exist,” said Jensen. Dean scoffed, waving him off. “Well you’re not an Alpha here so it’s not a far stretch to say magic doesn't either.”

“I am an Alpha, whether I got the equipment or not,” said Dean, glaring at Jensen.

“Well this is my house, Alpha,” said Jensen, Dean taking a big whiff of the air. “And?”

“You don’t smell like anything,” said Dean, putting his hand on his head as he walked away. “Sammy-”

“Hey, at least we won’t get ruts here,” said Sam.

“I want to go home,” said Dean, looking around. “Our home. You understand that, Jenny.”

“I’m gonna kick your ass you call me Jenny again, Deanie,” said Jensen with a smile. 

“Maybe we let them try to get back and do their spell. It doesn’t hurt to try,” said Jared. Jensen shrugged, Sam seeming to have an easier time with this than his brother. “Hey, uh, why don’t we order some pizzas and have some beers? Jens and I don’t have work until 11.”

“Whatever,” said Dean, slumping over to a corner of Jensen’s couch, Sam giving them both a smile and look that said he was sorry.

“Hey dude,” said Jensen after Jared had gone home and Sam was passed out in the guest room, snoring away. Dean hummed from the couch, mindlessly watching something on TV. “You doing okay?”

“No,” said Dean quietly. “You know how fucked up I am, Jensen. Like, possibly even better than Sam. The Alpha thing, I know it’s not a big deal or it shouldn’t be but it feels like I lost a part of me. At least as an Alpha, I had a pack and was pack leader to Sam and that meant something, you know? I was important to him.”

“You’re still important, Dean,” said Jensen, taking a seat nearby. “Your brother loves you. Trust me. Jared ain’t even related to me and he loves me. He’s my brother.”

“Yeah but you’re normal. You can make friends and have a wife and kids. If we’re stuck here, I’m sure Sammy will find a sweet girl and it’ll all be fine. I’m...I’m screwed up. I wouldn’t put that on anyone but at least with hunting, I was doing some good. Now I got nothing,” said Dean.

“You could get a job that helps people,” said Jensen, Dean rolling his eyes. “Dude, if you’re stuck, I got your back. The whole family does.”

“Okay, enough with the nice guy schtick, alright?” he said. 

“I had to go through crap and you guys took care of me. Now it’s my turn,” said Jensen. “And I am nice, asshole.”

“You are the weirdest friend I’ve ever had,” said Dean.

“I certainly hope so as your fucking twin from another universe I win the weirdest fucking friend award,” said Jensen. Dean chuckled, rubbing his hand against his head. “I thought I talked to you about this self-deprecating stuff back in your universe.”

“You did. I just don’t listen well,” said Dean with a shrug.

“You got that right. You ate my ice cream. I was looking forward to eating that like all freaking day,” said Jensen.

“Yeah but dude, it was triple fudge,” said Dean. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Well lucky for you, I got a secret stash in the-”

“Box of frozen veggies? Yeah, I use that trick on Sam at home. Sorry bud,” said Dean, Jensen staring at him slack jawed.

“I hate you and respect you at the same time,” said Jensen.

“Just being a good house guest,” said Dean with a smirk. “You probably need some shut eye, you look pretty wrecked.”

“Yeah, long day,” said Jensen, running his hands over his face. “Long few days. I need to head home this weekend, just relax.”

“Kansas?” asked Dean.

“Texas,” he said.

“Eh, good enough. At least you didn’t say LA,” said Dean. 

“Goodnight, asshole,” said Jensen, ruffling Dean’s head as he walked past.

“You too, Jensen.”

Friday Afternoon

Jensen only had a half day at work, standing in his apartment with his bag to fly home for the weekend around lunchtime. Jared got a flight out the night before and he and Sam had become best buds. Sam was easily adjusting to the situation far better than Dean. Sam didn’t seem to care so much about no longer being an Alpha and had already taken to cleaning Jensen’s apartment more than once, cooking dinner for him when he got home, trying to be helpful like Jensen had when he was at their place.

Jensen could see Dean wasn’t doing well though, Sam exchanging glances with Jensen every so often, not quite sure what to do about it. All he did was sit in Jensen’s apartment, watch TV and drink Jensen’s alcohol. 

“Hey uh, guys?” said Jensen, both brothers spinning around on the couch. “I’m going to head out for the weekend. Call if you need anything, okay?”

“We’re not children, Jenny,” said Dean, spinning back around.

“I’m still older than you, Deanie,” said Jensen, lightly smacking Dean’s arm as he walked over. “You guys got any plans?”

“Besides the fact we’re trapped in this universe forever? No, no plans,” said Dean.

“Sam, you do that thing I asked you to do?” asked Jensen. Sam smiled and nodded. “Good. Get your asses up then. We’re going to Texas.”

“What?” said Dean.

“Jensen thought it’d be a good idea if I made up some fake ID’s for us, just in case. Shockingly easy to hack into systems in this universe,” said Sam.

“I don’t need to know that,” said Jensen as he shut his eyes, flashing them open. “Well, give Dean his new passport and license. I got extra plane tickets. Whatever you guys need, we’ll grab in Texas.”

“Here,” said Sam, fishing a new wallet and a little book out of his pocket, handing it to Dean.

“Dean Ackles. Seriously?” said Dean.

“I’m sorry. I have a potentially recognizable face, so does Jared. You guys have to be fake twins to us here,” said Jensen.

“Sammy and I can’t even be brothers?” said Dean, scrunching up his face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I think I’m getting you out of this apartment, back in a country you know, a part of the country you know,” said Dean. 

“Oh? And what do we say when you guys both suddenly have identical twins,” said Dean.

“That you’re very private people. Hey, I got other siblings, so does Jare. We keep stuff outside of wives and kids pretty tight vested. It’s easy enough to pull off,” said Jensen. “Once you get in the states...it’ll be good for you. I swear.”

“At least I don’t have to be Sam Padaleski,” mumbled Dean.

“Padalacki,” said Sam.

“Pada...whatever,” said Jensen, rolling his eyes. “Just keep your mouth shut through security and for the love of god, do not do anything that gets us in trouble. Only Jared and I know about this right now. I don’t need my parents finding out they had another ‘son’ from airport security.”

Jensen saw the guys relax a bit once they were in Texas. It was somewhat familiar, both of them amazed at where Jensen lived, Jensen gripping the steering wheel tight every time one made a comment about “rich” people. Jensen arguably owned enough flannel to be a Winchester himself.

“Hi daddy,” said JJ when Jensen got out of his truck, Jensen scooping her up in a hug.

“Hi honey,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “What are you doing outside all by yourself?”

“Mommy said I could,” said JJ, pointing through the window to the kitchen, Danneel giving Jensen a smile. “Hi Uncle Sam and Dean!”

“Hey, kiddo,” said Sam, JJ turning her attention to Dean.

“Hi, JJ,” said Dean softly.

“You guys gonna stay for dinner?” she asked.

“Yup. They’re going to stay with us for a while,” said Jensen, grabbing his bag from the trunk. “Come on boys. De’s friday night meals are always the best.”

“This is amazing,” said Dean, Danneel chuckling as he worked on his third plate of food, Jensen taking the opportunity to spend some playtime with the kids.

When he returned, the boys were washing up the dishes, Danneel sitting at the counter with a smile.

“I like them. I think we should keep them,” said Danneel teasingly.

“I think we have to,” mumbled Jensen, Danneel staring up at him. He sighed and hopped up on the counter, holding her hand as the guys finished loading up the dishwasher. “I think...I think it’s time we got realistic about the chances of you guys going back to your own universe.”

“I told you he just brought us down here to ditch us,” said Dean.

“I brought you down here so you don’t sit in that apartment all day. This is our home and it’s private. Go outside, take a swim, get your head on straight. You both have to accept that these are your lives now. It’s all our lives,” said Jensen.

“What do you mean?” said Sam, taking a seat at the other counter. 

“I mean if I was a normal guy, Jared was a normal guy, we could let you slip away just fine. Start over however you want. We don’t get that option. In public, you have to be an Ackles and you have to be a Padalecki. You have to be our brothers,” said Jensen.

“How the hell are we going to pull that off?” scoffed Dean.

“We’d have to get the family on board with it,” said Danneel. “Although your dad would probably be the only really hard sell if you think about it.”

“No! We’re not-”

“Dean,” said Jensen. “Listen. We-”

“Oh shit,” said Danneel when the garage door opened. “I forgot.”

“Forgot what?” said Jensen, wide eyed when he saw his dad round the corner and pause, blinking at the scene in front of him. “You forgot my dad was stopping over!”

“He was driving up from Houston after a small gig there earlier today. I told him he could crash here tonight, surprise you,” she said, running her hands over her face.

“Well. I am surprised,” said Jensen’s dad.

“Uh,” said Jensen, quickly hopping off the counter. “I uh…”

His father walked past him and stepped over to Dean, holding up a finger and poking Dean in the chest. He did the same to Sam, staring back at Dean. 

“You’re the Winchesters,” said Jensen’s dad.

“Exactly!” said Jensen, his dad holding up a hand.

“I ain’t convinced I haven’t gone insane so give me a second, kiddo,” he said. He tilted Dean’s chin up, Dean glancing at Danneel who just shrugged, Dean swallowing when Jensen’s father flicked him in the side of the head.

“Ow,” said Dean, rubbing his temple.

“Alright. I’m Alan,” he said to Sam and Dean, turning his attention to Jensen. “What is happening?”

“Honestly? It’s a long story,” he said.

“Well start talking before I call your mother to have us all committed.”

“Well…” said Dean, sharing the bottle of bourbon Jensen had gotten out long ago with him. “Your dad seems really nice.”

“Give me,” said Alan, stealing the bottle away and whacking both Dean and Jensen on the back of the head.

“Dad,” whined Jensen, pouting when his father scowled.

“This is weird enough and we don’t need you two drunk,” he said. “Now sit back down.”

“Forget what I said,” mumbled Dean.

“I heard that,” said Alan.

“Well I ain’t your kid,” said Dean.

“Do I need to have this conversation with you too?” said Alan, staring at Sam. He shook his head, Danneel quickly skirting out of there with Sam to go hide in the living room. “Listen up. My kid is the one helping you. He could leave you and your brother to figure out this world on your own but guess what? He’s not. He’s choosing the hard thing because it’s what’ll probably help you the most. But if you don’t want it, there’s the door.”

“Dad, there isn’t really an alternative,” said Jensen. “Not unless they live in a shack the rest of their lives.”

“Fine with me,” he said.

“Dad,” said Jensen.

“Why should we do all this, drag the whole family, drag Jared’s whole family, through a big lie for someone who’s going to be ungrateful about it?” he said.

“Because it’s Dean and he’s not exactly open about this stuff,” said Jensen. “I have been playing him on TV for years. I have a good idea of how his head works.”

“I ain’t convinced. Get out,” said Alan.

“Dean, stay,” said Jensen, lifting his chin. “This is my house.”

“I’m not going to lie about having another son if he doesn't want it,” he said.

“I was stuck there in their world, dad. Trapped. Sam and Dean helped me,” said Jensen. “And what the hell is this all of a sudden? We help people when we can, that’s how you raised us. We’re good people and you’re acting like a dick.”

“You want the whole family to lie? For him?” asked his dad.

“Yes,” said Jensen. “For both of them.”

“Why?” said Alan.

“Because no one ever did a thing for them. The show was real for them, their actual lives. They deserve another shot, a shot at normal where they don’t have to hide,” said Jensen. “Please.”

“Good boy,” he said softly. Jensen scrunched up his face, tilting his head and glancing at Dean. “Hey, I already knew I was going to do it. I wanted to know why you wanted to.”

“Dickhead,” mumbled Jensen, his dad ruffling his hair.

“Whine like that and I’ll let Dean be the older twin,” said Alan with a chuckle.

“No!” said Jensen. “I’m older!”

“Do I get a say in this? Like at all?” said Dean. Alan shrugged.

“Technically you are younger,” he said.

“In this world, jerkface,” said Dean. Alan nodded and curled his finger.

“Let’s go have a chat outside,” he said. Dean huffed but followed after him, Jensen sighing when he found Danneel and Sam hanging out in the living room. 

“I’m sorry about Dean,” said Sam, giving Jensen a smile. “He really does appreciate everything. I think the Alpha thing is really messing with him. He was head of the pack after our dad died and being head Alpha is a big deal in our world. I mean, take Dean with all his normal crap and add this on top of it.” 

“I know,” said Jensen, plopping down next to Danneel, resting his head on her shoulder. 

“Are only boys Alphas?” she asked, Jensen smiling up at her. Sam chuckled a little and shook his head.

“No. Pretty sure if she wasn’t an Alpha, she’d be the feistiest Omega I ever met though,” said Dean, rounding the corner with Jensen’s dad. “So yeah, chicks can totally be Alphas. A bit rarer though.”

“Well, I’m heading to bed kids. I’ll see you all in the morning, figure out how the hell to tell your mother we have another kid,” said Jensen’s dad, rubbing the back of his neck. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” said Danneel, giving Dean a smile. “So…”

“Can I talk to Sammy alone?” asked Dean.

“Yeah. We uh...we only got the one guest room but there’s plenty of couches around,” said Jensen, Dean smiling.

“Dude, it’s okay,” he said. “Uh, mind showing us? This’ll probably be a while. We got a lot to talk through. Brother to brother.”

Jensen nodded and played good host, showing them the bedroom and bathroom they could use, finding some extra sheets and pillows for Dean and setting them down in the room.

“De and I are just off the front door, other side of the house,” said Jensen, turning to leave.

“Hey, twin,” said Dean, Jensen glancing over his shoulder. “Call up Jared. Us four got a lot to talk about.”

“Honey?” asked Danneel, Jensen crawling into bed in the middle of the night. “What’s up with the boys?”

“We’re going to do it. Fake us both having twin brothers,” said Jensen. “I can’t believe this is our life now.”

“Hey, you always wanted the Winchesters to have a family,” she said.

“I didn’t think it’d literally be our family, De,” said Jensen, throwing an arm over her. “Why’d you ask about the Alpha stuff earlier?”

“Dean’s having a hard time, I want to help him if I can,” she said.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

Two Weeks Later

“Yo,” said Jensen, hopping out of his car on the way home from the airport, making a quick pit stop at the brewery. Dean gave him a nod, setting a sack of hops down. “De got you put to work good this week I heard.”

“I don’t care what happened in my universe. Both of you there at the same time, she’s so the Alpha out of you two,” said Dean.

“Eh, being an Omega’s not so bad, right?” said Jensen. 

“I’m sure she wouldn’t have minded you being the one that popped out the twins,” said Dean with a laugh. 

“You’re joking,” said Jensen.

“Remember that sex ed book? Nope,” said Dean.

“Where…” said Jensen, Dean glancing around Jensen. “No way.”

“Yup,” said Dean, sighing when he heard Danneel tutting behind him. “Gettin’ me in trouble with the boss lady already.”

“Boys,” said Danneel, a smile in her voice. “Jensen, Dean. This is Ana. Today’s her first day. She’s going to be helping out in the office, events, odds and ends. Ana, this is Jensen.”

“Hello sir,” she said, giving Jensen a handshake.

“Oh god, I’m your boss but please don’t ever call me sir again,” said Jensen with a smile. “We’re sort of a bunch of goofballs around here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, turning to Dean. “Hi.”

“Hi,” said Dean, staring at her as she held out her hand. Jensen saw Dean blank out for a second, shaking his head and quickly accepting the handshake. “Dean.”

“Like Dean Winchester?” she said with a little laugh. Dean shook his head, dropping his face away after a moment. “Sorry.”

“No, no...you’re uh…” said Dean, Jensen catching a bit of flush in his cheeks.

“Let’s introduce you to everyone else and then Dean can be your training buddy for the day. He just started this week too,” said Danneel.

“Okay. Bye Jensen. Dean,” said Ana, giving them both a smile as she left with Danneel.

“She was cute,” said Jensen, Dean shrugging. “Dude.”

“Maybe...she was a little cute,” mumbled Dean.

“Too bad you were too busy trying not to blush you didn’t notice she was doing it too,” said Jensen. 

“She did not,” said Dean.

“Gonna have to find out for yourself, Deanie,” teased Jensen.

“Eh, go screw yourself, Jenny,” said Dean.

“Love you too. Brother,” said Jensen with a laugh, pausing when he caught Dean’s face. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s...it’s not you. S’just weird,” said Dean. “I used to know a girl in my world, looked just like her.”

“Really?” said Jensen, turning around, catching the Danneel and Ana walk out of the back of the brewery.

“It was when Sammy was in college. I was working this hunt, a little big for me to be working on my own. I met this hunter, was going to work it with him, my dad gave him a call. The guy was a bit of an ass. He said ‘his girl’ would show me the ropes. He left and this chick, ain’t even old enough to drink, she walks in the bar, orders a beer, tells them I’m paying for it, knocks it back and then tells me to get my perky ass going cause we got a restless spirit to take care of. I thought she was a bit of an ass like her old man but it was a front, we all got fronts in that world. She was stitching up my arm in my motel room when it was finished, had this cute little smile and bam, her heat hits. She’s freaking out because it’s way off schedule and then bam, my rut hits and that’s way off schedule too and we realize...true mates,” said Dean with a smirk. “I actually had an Omega. Can you believe that?”

“That’s great man,” said Jensen, already having an idea of where this story was going.

“You’re the first person I ever told that to. Not even Sammy knows I had a mate,” said Dean, rubbing the back of his neck. “It wasn’t even a hunt that got her. A silly car accident. We barely got a few months together.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine,” said Jensen. 

“No,” said Dean. “You can’t.”

“I can ask De to keep her away if-”

“No, no. It was a long time ago. It’s not her. I’m okay, seriously,” said Dean.

“Alright,” said Jensen. “I’ll see you at home later then.”

Two Days Later

“Daddy,” said Zeppelin, tugging on Dean’s jeans, Dean giving him a smile. “Oh. Uncle De, where’s daddy?”

“He’s playing with your sisters upstairs,” said Dean. “You want to go play with them?”

“No,” he said, walking away, Danneel giving him a smile as he plopped down in the living room.

“Alright, Uncle Dean,” she said, patting Dean’s arms. “Ready for your date tonight?”

“It’s not a date,” said Dean, running his hand over the gray button down Jensen had loaned him.

“It’s so a date,” said Jensen, walking down the stairs, patting Dean’s shoulder. “Come here.”

Jensen slipped on a pair of shoes and Dean followed him outside, handing him the keys to his truck.

“This where you tell me not to screw up this poor girl,” said Dean.

“This is where I tell you...have some fun tonight. We hardly ever see you crack a smile unless you’re with the kids,” said Jensen.

“Sam’s accepted that this is where we live now. I haven’t,” said Dean. “He’s making plans for apartments and I’m up half the night researching to get back.”

“Get back to what? To getting hurt all the time? Dying? Hunting?” said Jensen.

“It’s all I got, Jensen,” said Dean. “That and being an Alpha.”

“Well you’re not an Alpha anymore. You’re Dean and you get to start over fresh, be what you want. We’ll help you with whatever you decide. But you have to live your life,” said Jensen.

“I’m too fucked up,” he said. Jensen hummed and crossed his arms.

“I see. We’re gonna have to do this the hard way,” said Jensen. Dean rolled his eyes and started to walk away. “Hey. Winchester.”

“What,” said Dean with a sigh.

“Talk with Jared sometime,” said Jensen. Dean turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Just cause we don’t fight monsters doesn’t mean we don’t have demons in this family. Talk to him tomorrow. Jared’ll be honest with you. He’ll set your head straight.”

“Why? You sick of me already?” scoffed Dean.

“Because in case you forgot,” said Jensen, stepping up to Dean’s face, “You didn’t just get me as a brother. You got Jared too. I’m good at being there but Jared...you have more in common than you think. Just talk to him for me. For Sam. Please.”

“You’re not my brother,” mumbled Dean. 

“Yeah. I am,” said Jensen, Dean staring at him. “Neither one of us picked this but it’s what we got. You know, like siblings. You don’t get to pick those.”

“You’re so annoying,” said Dean.

“I”m the older brother. Of course I’m annoying,” said Jensen with a smirk.

“I was in Hell for forty years. I say that makes me older,” said Dean, narrowing his eyes as Jensen swallowed. He sighed and dropped his head. “I’m sorry. Forget I said that.”

“It’s alright,” said Jensen, digging into his back pocket and pulling out his credit card. “Have fun on your date. My treat.”

“I got a job. I can pay,” said Dean.

“Dude. Just take it. It’s your first date in this universe. It’s my treat and De ain’t gonna be happy if you say no,” said Jensen.

“Fine. It’s probably going to go horrible anyways,” he said as he took the card.

“Have fun, Dean!”

“Hey,” said Jensen when Dean walked into the kitchen the next morning, picking JJ up from her seat at the counter and sitting down, resting her in his lap. “How’d it go?”

“Good,” he yawned, JJ grabbing his cheeks. “Good morning, sweetie.”

“Uncle Dean, it’s my seat,” she said.

“Can we share?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said, grabbing his shirt and tilting her head. “You got a tattoo like dad?”

“This?” he asked, glancing at Jensen when he pulled down his Henley and showed off his anti-possession tattoo.

“I only got the three, honey. Yours and the twins and the crown,” said Jensen, sliding two plates of eggs on the counter. He walked around and picked her up, plopping her in the seat next to Dean. 

“Uncle Dean, are you gonna live with us forever?” asked JJ as she started to eat.

“No. Not forever,” said Dean with half a smile.

“Can you? Please?” she asked.

“I’ll stick around a while, how’s that sound?” asked Dean.

“Fine,” she grumbled.

“So how was the date?” asked Jensen.

“You know, a date,” said Dean.

“You gonna see Ana again?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Feels funny,” said Dean, wolfing down his food quickly. “I’m gonna go for a walk before it gets too hot out. I’ll see you guys.”

He stood and headed upstairs, JJ giving her father a look.

“Dad, why’s Uncle Dean so sad all the time?” she asked.

“It’s a lot of grown up stuff,” he said. 

“Can you fix it?” she asked.

“Maybe. Give Uncle Dean and Sam a few extra hugs for me when you see them honey,” he said.

“You got it, dad.”

“Hey,” said Jensen, finding Dean out by Jared’s pool a few hours later. “Where’s Sam?”

“Grocery store. Gen’s bringing the kids over your place to swim,” said Jared.

“So, what? You two need a ride?” chuckled Jensen.

“No. Dean came over this morning and we’ve been talking,” said Jared. “I thought it might be good to get you involved.”

“What’s up?” asked Jensen, taking a seat on a patio chair. 

“I think we all know Dean’s struggling with this...adjustment. Sam and I have noticed it and we’re sure you see it too. Add that on top of everything that these guys normally go through and this is where we end up,” said Jared.

“You okay?” asked Jensen, Dean sighing.

“In this world, you’re pack leader. Maybe you don’t realize but you are. I could get over the hunting if I could still be an Alpha, still have that,” said Dean.

“We don’t have that in our world, Dean,” said Jensen, tilting his head back. “I’m not a pack leader either. I’m part of a family, one you’re part of now. I know that this one is different than what you’re used to. I get it, man. We all do. But if you’re struggling, let us help.”

“I don’t know what I need,” said Dean.

“We don’t film until when, Tuesday afternoon?” asked Jensen after a moment.

“Nope,” said Jared, pulling out his phone. “You want me to reschedule our flight for Tuesday morning?”

“Yeah. I think a boys weekend with us and Sam is in order,” said Jensen with a smirk.

“Same place as we went last time?” asked Jared. 

“Yeah. You mind getting it reserved and I’ll get these boys packed up?” said Jensen.

“Where are we going?” asked Dean as Jensen pulled him to his feet.

“Trust us. You guys will like it.”

“Nice,” said Jared when Dean reeled in a fish late that afternoon. “That’s your fourth one already.”

“Must be a better fisherman in this universe,” Dean chuckled. He unhooked the fish and dropped it back in the water, Sam sighing from the other side of the dock. “Patience, Sammy.”

“I’m getting hungry,” he said. 

“Me too. Dean, how do you like your steak done?” asked Jared as he reeled in his line.

“Medium’s always good,” he said.

“Alright. You guys set the table out back and we’ll handle the food tonight,” said Jared, heading towards the small cabin with Sam.

“He a good cook?” asked Dean.

“He knows his way around a grill,” said Jensen, taking a sip of his beer. “You seem more relaxed here.”

“Not used to the real world still I suppose,” said Dean.

“Well, we rented the cabin for three weeks. You and Sam can come by anytime you want. Quiet place to be yourself,” he said.

“I like people. I want to be Dean Winchester again is all,” he said.

“You are. You’re a badass. I know that. But you gotta relax before you pop.”

“Maybe I haven’t been trying as much as I say I have been,” said Dean.

“When I was stuck, all I wanted was to go home,” said Jensen. “I understand.”

“Nothing bad happens here,” said Dean after a moment.

“Bad stuff happens. It’s not monsters that cause it is all,” said Jensen. “I think that’s what you struggle with.”

“There’s nothing for me to do here,” said Dean. “Nothing bad to stop. No pack to lead.”

“There’s plenty of bad to stop. Sam still needs you. I think you have to change that idea in your head of what that means is all,” said Jensen.

“Do you always have to be so annoyingly optimistic?” asked Dean.

“I want you to feel better is all.”

“Why?”

“You’ve been one of my best friends for fifteen years. I care about you. I didn’t know you were real until recently but you taught me a few things over the years. If you could stop being such a dick, it’d be nice,” he said.

“I’m your best friend? You sure you ain’t nuts, Jenny?” asked Dean.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Also, you so put my head at rest knowing a freaking hunter is home with my family to watch out for them when I’m not there,” he said.

“I never thought of it like that,” he said, a small smile on his face. “You got no idea how lucky you are, man.”

“I know. Maybe when we get back from our trip, you can hang with Ana again. She’s cute. You seemed like you liked her,” he said.

“I did. I’ll think about it,” he said. “Would you mind if I did something with the kids next week? Like after school?”

“Not at all. You don’t have to ask permission. I see how good you are with them and I’m sure De would love a few hours to herself,” he said, pulling his line in. “Why don’t you stay a bit longer. I can setup.”

“Alright,” said Dean as Jensen stood up. “Jensen.”

“Hm?”

“Thanks. You and Jared for taking care of us. You could have left us on our own to figure all this out,” he said.

“S’not our style,” said Jensen. “Food’ll be done in probably twenty.”

“What are you, my mother? I got it,” he said, waving him off.

Jensen smiled as he headed back to the cabin, Jared heating up the grill on the deck.

“You think he’s doing better?” asked Jared.

“Yeah. I think these guys are gonna be alright.”

_________

[penroseparticle]

4, 15, 25, 38, 51, 69, 76, 83, 94, 108, 116, 122, 136, 149 + 150

4: 3 things I love

Summer evening naps, with a breeze and the window open, some light music playing, and it’s cool enough for a throw blanket from the couch. The most peaceful time in the world.

Stomping off snow from your boots, and being handed a bowl of steaming, hearty soup before you even take your jacket off. You hold the soup in your hands like a handwarmer and smell that homemade, lovingly crafted sign of care. When you finally eat, the soup is delicious.

bubblebaths, man. Just bubblebaths.

15: Favourite quote

I actually collect quotes! There was a dog tag engraver at the local Walmart back home in Indiana and I’d spend 5 bucks and get a quote engraved in one every few weeks. I must have like 40 of them. I stopped because the machines are harder to find now but I might start again. I love quotes. I fished one out of the pile and it’s: 

“We become what we pretend to be. So we must be careful what we pretend to be” by Kurt Vonnegut. Aka the fake it til you make it mantra or how I turned into a positive person.

25: Ever done a prank call?

I haven’t done a prank call, but I have gone through a drive thru when I knew my friend was working and pretended to be a difficult customer. She thought it was funny. She returned the favor once and I poured her drink out onto the pavement. Sometimes I miss McDonalds but usually I know better

38: Do I and my last ex hate each other?

We don’t! I don’t speak with him though as he lives in like, Minnesota now? But I checked his facebook the other day he seems good.

51: When was the last time I hugged someone?

I used to hug people all the time- I’m a very tactile person, I love hugs and physical affection. Holding hands, carding through hair, etc.

It must have been on Friday- there were some friends over for Christmas, and I got to hug them. It was nice.

I don’t hug people often enough.

69: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had?

I believe it was when I simultaneously broke my big toe on one foot and my heelbone on the other? Bad times for walking. My ankle still pops in and out sometimes!

76: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?

Doo Wop (That Thing) by Ms. Lauryn Hill. A classic slam dunk. It makes me happy because it reminds me of when I was little, it’s a jam of a song, and my mom loves Lauryn Hill.

83: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?

Healing powers. The power to heal injuries and illnesses. It’s the only superpower I’ve ever wanted. Just classic, DnD style I can fix that healing spells.

94: Left the house without my wallet?

Constantly. Last night I left work, locked the door, and realized I left my phone charging in my office. I had to sneak back in and set off the alarm =/

108: Been outside my home country?

Sadly only been to the US, and only to like 20 states. But I’d like to travel more!

116: What concerts have I been to?

Hmm... 21 Pilots (twice), Betty Who (4 times), Caravan Palace (twice), Dorothy, Reptar, LIzzo, Billie Eilish, Troye Sivan, NOT 21 Savage because I was too busy getting a friend laid, Wallows, Jimmy Eat World (twice), Silver Sun Pickups, Oh Wonder (Twice), Broods, Young the Giant, Glass Animals, Arctic Monkeys, a few other people. I don’t have a comprehensive list but most of these stick out as good memories.

I was SUPPOSED to see Halsey and someone else this year, but like... yeah. Plus, who knows what concerts I would have gone to on a whim!

122: Dyed my hair?

Once, very poorly, with box dye. It went poorly. I dyed it red for Caps playoffs and looked terrible.

I kind of want to dye it again though. Maybe silver or some light blue color?

136: Do I like my handwriting?

I have doctor handwriting, aka it’s terrible. It has charm though!

149: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me

One time when I was working as a diner line cook, one of the waitresses told me a sweet little old lady in the dining room asked her if she could “Ask the nice white cook” to make her food. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.

150: What I’d do if I won in a lottery

Boring but practical: Pay off my bills and loans, pay off the bills and loans of my loved ones, invest in my local community, and buy a place in DC so I never have to worry about renting again. Buy a motorcycle, and get enough magic cards to be able to play Vintage and Legacy. After that, give back as much as I can.

[lovewriting-5]

Rules:

*gif credit goes to @creating-tabs*

5. Sanctuary

7. Bending Laws

6. The Gingerbread House:

It was a week later at the Reynolds’ house. I woke up to the sun filtering in from the windows. I faintly heard footsteps moving around upstairs. I sat up and stretched. I stood up and folded the blankets. Claire came downstairs and made her way to the kitchen. I said “Morning, Claire.” She said “Morning, (Y/N).” She looked dressed and ready for the day. I grabbed my change of clothes laying at the end of the couch and head into the bathroom. I come back out ready for the day. I walked back to the couch and put the blankets away.

A few minutes later, Stephen came down the stairs ready for the day as well. He said “Morning, (Y/N).” I said “Morning, Stephen.” Claire had started a pot of coffee. They both grabbed themselves a cup and sat at the kitchen island. I got myself a glass of water.

The guest bedroom door opened and then closed a second later. We heard tiny footsteps rushing down the stairs. Stephen says “Daniel, must be awake.” Sure enough there he was. Daniel says “Morning.” Claire says “Morning, sweetie.” I say “Morning, Daniel.” Stephen says “Morning.” Excitedly, he asks “Grandpa, can we play with the train set upstairs again?” Stephen says “Of course.”

Ten minutes later, the both of them were off upstairs. A few minutes later, the train has left the station. Claire must have noticed the shark tooth necklace around my neck earlier but she didn’t know when the best time was to ask about it. We were sitting at the kitchen island having a conversation, she asks “I noticed the shark tooth necklace around your neck. Where’d you get it?”

I didn’t know how to answer. Sean and I have talked about how much we want to reveal to them. I tell her “Sean...gave it to me.” She says “That’s nice.” She didn’t press on more. A couple minutes later, she says “Guess I better get breakfast started.” I ask “Would you like some help?” She said “That would be lovely, thanks.” She decided to make scrambled eggs and waffles. I got the ingredients out for her as she instructed me on what to add when.

From above we hear Daniel, “Choo choo!” Stephen says “Careful chief! You’re going too fast!” He says “We have to! We’re late on schedule!” Sean must have just woken up because we hear the guest room door opening a second time. I hear Daniel say “Sean! Finally!” Claire shouts up to him, “Sean, are you awake? Breakfast’s almost done, so come down when you’re ready, okay?” He shouts back, “Okay!”

The sound of the train set was still going. Claire sat back down at the island. Breakfast was just finishing up when footsteps can be heard coming down the stairs. I turn and see him enter the kitchen. Claire says “Oh my, look who’s awake! Good morning, sleepyhead...” I say “Morning.” He sleepily, says “Morning. It’s that bed...feels like a cloud.” She tells him “I know!”

Sean sits down next to me at the island. Plates and silverware were sitting in the middle. I pass one to him and he sets it down next to him. He sets one in front of him. I set one in front of me. Claire calls upstairs, “Daniel, breakfast time! Your brother and (Y/N) are ready!” Daniel yells down, “Grandpa is showing me a boxcar!” She yells “Stephen, your grandson needs to eat now! You can show him the boxcar later!” She turns back to us and says “I love how they’re getting along...” I nod in agreement.

Sean asks “What’s on the menu this morning?” Claire says “Well, someone told me the buttermilk waffles are back.” He says “Mmmm-hmmm! Awesome!” I say “They smell delicious!”

Daniel comes into the kitchen and takes a seat next to Sean. Claire asks “Are you boys done playing?” He tells her “We had an express delivery with the passengers, but...the engine broke down!” Stephen comes in with the engine in hand, “Yep. Has to go straight to the workshop!” She reminds him “Good...No trains in the kitchen remember?” He says “Gotcha, chief.” Daniel says “Choo choo!”

Claire went to open a drawer when the handle came off. She says “Oh, sugar! He can fix trains but...not my kitchen...” She picks up the frying pan and walks back over to us. We hold our plates up as she scrapes scrambled eggs and waffles onto them. Sean pours himself and Daniel some orange juice. I stand up and get more water. I sit back down and begin eating.

In what seemed like a long time, these tasted like the best scrambled eggs and waffles I’ve ever tasted. Claire asks “Did I make enough? Everything’s okay?” I tell her “It tastes delicious!” Sean says “It’s great as usual!” Daniel says “You’re the best cook ever!”

Claire says “Looks like you’re getting cozy with this new country life, after all!” I say “Yeah...It’s nice to be far away from everything...feels like we’re the only ones out here...” She says “Well, that’s exactly why we love it. It feels safe, unlike the big city...” Sean says “I get it.” Daniel says “I like it. It’s cool here!” She says “Well, bless your soul. You’d get along good with our neighbors. We try to lend a hand...like to Charles next door...He lost his wife and...things have been hard on him and his son...He would just get lost in Seattle. But we’re all taking care of him here...”

Daniel says “How old is his son?” Claire tells him “I think he’s your age!” He says “Ooh, cool!” After we finish eating, he quickly glances at Claire and then lifts his hand a few inches off the counter. The plates and utensils start stacking together into the middle. Sean and I don’t say anything and he gently sets them down.

Claire walks back over to the island to see how we’re doing. While laughing, she says “And I thought Stephen was a fast eater!” She takes the plates and utensils. Daniel begins “Hey, grandma? I wanted to ask you something...about that locked room upstairs...”

Sean and I look at him. Claire says “I told you there is nothing to see in it, Daniel...” He asks “Why were you in it this morning, then?” She continues “Because there’s a lot of old junk in there, and...Besides, it’s not safe for you to explore, okay?” He says “But we’ll be fine —“ Claire turns away silent.

Claire puts the dishes into the sink. She says “Why don’t you go explore outside? You sure look like you’re getting better. Get some fresh air!” Daniel says “I’ll wait for Sean and (Y/N)! And then we’ll go! We won’t be loud! Promise!” She says “But be careful nobody sees you. Stay in the back, okay?”

Sean waits for Daniel to leave before he says “Maybe you should tell him that it was Karen’s room...” Claire says “It’s just a room now, Sean...Nothing to see...” He tells her “Daniel needs that...He doesn’t know anything about her...” A little sincere, she says “I know, poor thing...but his mother isn’t in there anymore...So nobody goes in the room, okay? I’m serious...”

He asks “Did mom ever contact you? She only talked to dad a few times...then she was gone...” Claire sighs “Yes, she was...You know, Sean, I don’t really want to talk about this anymore. It’s over...Anyway...You have to respect my rules under my roof, okay?” He says “Of course...Always.” I say “Okay.” Claire says “I appreciate that...Now, you both better go find Daniel...”

She starts walking out of the kitchen when she adds, “There’s a shed with some old toys outside...I’ll...bet Stephen has the key.” Sean says “Daniel will freak...” I tell her “Thank you...”

We place our glasses in the sink as Claire sits in her recliner. We start walking around the house. Sean checks on Daniel who is working on homework. I peak out the window near the back door. Then I go over to the aquarium to try and find the fish. Sean comes back into the living room. Claire says “Sorry for getting upset, I...I just don’t feel comfortable talking about all this.” He tells her “It’s...It’s fine, really. We don’t have to.”

The three of us all of a sudden hear a faint pop. I jumped a tiny bit. Claire says “What? He’s letting him play with firecrackers again? Aw, for Christ sakes...”

Sean begins “Hey, Claire...” Claire asks “What’s on your mind, Sean?” He asks “Do you know anything about...dad’s funeral?” She says “There was a service...we couldn’t make it in time, but we sent flowers. I’m sorry, Sean...” He says “It’s okay...I just wanted to make sure...somebody took care of him...” Claire says, sincere “Hopefully...you can go visit him at some point...” He says “At some point...yeah.”

I look up from the aquarium, ask “I hope this isn’t out of line but if you don’t mind me asking, what did you think of him?” Sean says “You can tell me. I won’t get mad.” Claire begins “Well, your father was...He was his own person.” He says “That’s it? I mean...I know you guys didn’t really get along...” She continues “It’s just...Esteban was very different from us. And he never took a single step to change any of that.” I saw that that struck a little nerve with him. He took a few seconds before saying anything. He says “Sounds like dad. He wasn’t one to smooth things over.” Claire says “Trust me, I know the type. But he did raise you boys on his own. Can’t argue with that.” He says “Yeah...He worked his ass off for us...Wish I’d realized that sooner.” She says “Don’t worry, Sean.”

I ask “What’s the story with your neighbor?” Claire explains “Charles? Poor man used to be a basketball coach, but had to move out here after his wife’s passing...He’s got a job at the rail yard now, and...Well, he’s still recovering.” Sean says “Wow...I mean, that’s sad.” She says “We try to give him a hand...Keep an eye on his...drinking problem. His son, Chris, is a little angel, though. I think Daniel would be a good infuence on him...He’s got great role models, after all...” He says “Thanks...” I add “We’re trying our best.” Sean says “Wel...Thanks, Claire.” She says “You are very welcome...It’s always a pleasure.”

Daniel comes into the living room. Sean says to him, “Man. Can you imagine watching a slasher movie out here? Deep in the woods...No one around...” I say “Yeah, that would be really cool.” Daniel says “No way! Too scary...” Still examining the aquarium, I ask “Have you ever seen any actual fish in here?” They say “Never...” Daniel goes over to Claire and asks “Hey, grandma, where are the fish?” She says “Well, there’s only one, and he’s terribly shy...”

Sean sits in a side corner by the TV and pulls out his sketchbook. Daniel and I sit on the couch. He says “Hey! We wanna be in your drawing!” Claire says “Awww, don’t draw me like this, Sean. I’m a mess!” He says “Don’t worry, I’m drawing the whole room.” He begins sketching. She adds “Good. It’s so nice to see you practice, you’re so passionate!”

After he finishes sketching, he says “I’m gonna go see Stephen in his study and get the key.” Daniel says “Cool.” He leaves the room to head to the study. I go and look at the ship in the bottle. I ask “What happened to the ship?” Claire says “Oh, that thing? Stephen made it years ago, but it fell and he doesn’t know how to fix it...” I say “That’s sad...Looks pretty cool, anyway...” She says “Yeah, well...It’s life!” Daniel and I sat back on the couch. We just chit chatted.

Before Sean left the study, Daniel decided to go and hide. He didn’t tell me where he was going. Claire is about to walk out the door when she runs into Sean. I hear her say “Oh, there you are, Sean! Got the key? Hey, I have to go out and run some errands...Can you do me a big favor? Do you know how to work a washing machine?” He tells her “Since I was about 8...” She says “Of course...Can you throw in the clothes from the basket after the next load? They’re in the bathroom.” He says “Totally, yeah...No problem.” She says “Thank you so much...Feel free to start tidying up too, it’s good for the health to keep a house clean.” Sean tells her “Definitely. They can help too.” She says “Oh, and remember, for your own safety, no phone and no internet. I know, I know, boring rules...” He says “Don’t worry, Claire.” The front door opens and then closes.

Sean comes back into the living room. He mentions that he got the key and a little bit of what him and Stephen talked about. He noticed Daniel was gone. He asks “Where’s Daniel?” I tell him “Hiding.” He asks “Want to help me find him?” I say “Of course.”

Sean held a finger up and calls out, “Hey, Daniel! There’s work for you!” From somewhere in the house, he yells back “Uh, no! I’m busy!” I shake my head, smiling. Sean yells back “Busy my ass! Come over here!” He yells while laughing, “You gotta find me first!” Sean says “Jeez...” We check all over the first floor but no luck. Then we head upstairs. We check their bedroom but nothing. Sean points in the direction of the bathroom and says “Shhhh...”

We came up with a quick plan. We noticed the shower curtain closed and the door wide open. I go to the shower curtain and Sean stays kind of hidden in front of the bathroom door. I say “I know you’re in there...” I pull back the curtain but no luck. Daniel comes from behind the door, “BEHIND YOU!” That’s when Sean grabs his arm and says “GOTCHA!” We both laugh. Daniel says “Okay, okay...”

Sean says “No more hiding, seriously!” Daniel says “Okay, okay. What do I have to do?” I tell him “You tidy the mess in your room and we’ll take care of the rest. Cool?” He says “Yeah, sure...it sucks...” He walks out the bathroom and toward their room. Sean says “We know...Thanks.” I help him carry the laundry. I say “All right. Let’s get it over with.” We take the laundry downstairs and put them in the washer. We look at the controls, Sean says “How many programs doses this thing have? Okay. It will do.”

We walk out and go back into the living room. We see Daniel quickly hang up the phone. Sean says, furiously “What the hell are you doing?” Daniel says “What? I just picked up the phone!” He says “You know what, dude? We are not supposed to be here. Who was it?” Daniel says “I don’t know! Some kid! It was just a prank...” I tell him “We know, just...be careful, okay?” Daniel says “Don’t worry!”

We walk to the back door, I say “You guys ready? We can go out, now.” They say “Yes!” We put our winter gear on. I open the back door and we step outside into the snow.

The snow looked beautiful with the sun shimmering off it. There was a slight breeze. We could hear water splashing around from next door. Daniel says “Aawwww! Man, finally! Feels so good to be outside. Reminds me of the cabin. Aowwwwww!” Sean and I join in, “Owwoooooo!” He says “Watch out for the pack!” We walk around the yard and check things out for a few minutes. We head over to the shed. Sean takes the key out of his pocket and tries to unlock the main door. He says “Get ready for storage wars?” I ask “What’s wrong?” He says “Frozen shut! Of course...”

We all of a sudden hear something running through the snow. Daniel says as he points to the house next door, “Look!” We watch as a kid climbs up the steps of his treehouse. One of them breaks and the kid starts to fall. I gasp and place my hands over my mouth. Daniel extends his hand and stops the kid from hitting the ground. I see out of the corner of my eye that Sean pushes Daniel’s arm down as the kid is gently lowered to the ground.

The kid examines his hands. We walk closer to the fence with Daniel fast walking in front. We wave to him. The kid waves back. He asks “Hmmm...uh...Did you see that?” I say “Yeah...We did...It looks like you’re okay, though...” Daniel says “You were almost floating!” The kid says “I-I was...I was! I could feel myself in the air...It-It was awesome...”

The kid had on some sort of costume. Daniel says “That’s an awesome costume...Who’s your favorite superhero? I love...” At the same time, they say “Power Bear!” The kid says “Oh man, I have the Mega Power Bear! You should check it out!” He says “Dude, that’s so cool!”

A man comes running up to the kid, kneels down and places his hands on his shoulders. The man says “Chris, oh god...Look, I am so sorry, are you okay?” They hug. Chris says “Dad, I’m fine! I promise!” Sean and I look at each other concerned. The man says “Are you sure? Listen, I shouldn’t have...”

The man looks over through the fence and notices us standing there. He stands up and puts an arm around his son. He asks “Do you know them?” Chris says “It’s-It’s okay, dad, they’re cool! He loves superheroes! Even Power Bear!” The man says “Ah...gotcha...Hey, there...Are you staying with the Reynolds?” Sean says “Oh...Uh...Yeah. They’re our grandparents.”

The man says “I see...Oh jeez, Chris...you don’t have any damn shoes on. I’m sorry, buddy, let’s get you inside...” Chris says a little defeated, “I, uh...Yeah, okay dad...” The man says “Thanks, guys...Oh, and...uh...if Claire asks, tell her everything is fine...” Sean and I say “Sure...” He adds “No problem.” The man says “Cool. See you around, then.”

Chris gets onto his dad’s back. He says “Thanks, guys...See you later...” Daniel tells him “Yes we will!” We wave to them as they walk back towards their house.

Sean frustratedly, says “Daniel! Did you forget everything about the rules already?” I say “Sean, it’s fine.” Daniel says “Sorry...Did you want me to let him fall? Really?” I calmly tell him, “No, you...You did the right thing. But listen...We can’t let anybody know...We have to keep a low profile out here...” Daniel stuck his tongue out at Sean. He says “He’s like my age...I bet you would have done the same exact thing...Don’t be mad...” Sean tells him “I’m not mad, dude. It’s...It’s over.”

Sean reminds him “Daniel! Remember that we’re hiding out...So no training and no showing off your power...” I tell him “From now on, you stick with us all the time...Okay?” We playfully push each other and walk back towards the shed laughing.

[sincerelyreidburke]

I for once am in a mood for quindo fluff. Some playful bickering perhaps?

Given that you’ve asked me for this twice, Percy, I would have felt very bad not giving it to you.😂😂😂😂 Here’s the Quindo bickering content of your dreams, but from Remy’s POV! Set during junior year, and briefly featuring two more fictional hockey players of my creation.

Also on ao3, in the ficlet collection. (Ask/send me anything about the crickets!)

//

junior year | october

  The commotion in the kitchen wakes Remy up from the best nap he’s had in awhile, and that in and of itself is a sin.

Naps are not only a spiritually enriching experience, they’re also essential. Remy is slowly learning to use them as a remedy for the fact that he only gets so many hours of sleep per night. Ben keeps telling him that he should look into taking melatonin or something for the insomnia, but it always feels like a problem for another day. The other day it’s a problem for has yet to come.

So today, after he wakes up at five AM and does not fall back asleep, he spends the better half of the morning in the library busting out his entire upcoming paper for HI 387 (British Empire). When he finishes formatting his bibliography, he feels his primal nap instinct coming on, and the sky outside looks gray, which just helps the urge along. He gathers up his stuff, walks back to the house on Beech Street, changes into sweats, and flops into his bed with his feet on the pillow and head on the pile of stuffed animals at the end of the mattress.

Only God and Ben Shaley can judge him for his stuffed animal collection.

Some indeterminate time later, he wakes to the noise downstairs. He can’t make out exactly what’s being said, but he’d know Quinn’s shrill voice anywhere, piercing the stairwell and creeping right up into Remy’s room.

There’s a steady rain drumming on the window, and he lifts his head off of his arm. He feels like he accidentally imprinted the sleeve of his sweatshirt onto his cheek, if the weird bumpy sensation when he runs his fingers over his face is any indication. This is a sign of a good nap. Unfortunately, it’s been interrupted.

Downstairs, Quinn is still talking. He has one volume, and it’s loud.

Remy buries his face in between his stuffed snake and his duck, and sighs.

He lays in bed for a minute more, weighing the merits of attempting Naptime Part Two versus going downstairs to see what the fuss is about. In reality, he knows that there’s probably no fuss at all, and that Quinn is just on another of his random rants which must double as practicing onstage projection based on how loud and animated he can get. Remy fishes through his plush pile until he finds his phone, where he checks the time— it’s 3:02, which means he slept for at least two and a half hours. If he tries to go back to sleep now , there’s no way he’ll ever be able to get to sleep at the normal time to go to sleep.

So he rolls over, sits up in bed, and rubs his eyes. He feels a mighty yawn coming on, but it doesn’t actually hit him until he fixes his shirt— somehow, under his hoodie, it bunched all the way up to his chest in his sleep. And the ankle seam on one of his joggers is up to his knee.

Wow. It really was a good nap.

The yawn hits him when he stands up and out of bed. He kind of feels like a zombie, walking after such a deep sleep. He guesses it isn’t such a bad thing to be so well-rested. It’s been awhile.

Downstairs, Quinn’s voice persists. When he opens his bedroom door and steps out into the hallway, another factor comes into play— somebody is cooking down there, and, well, okay, he can say ‘somebody’ but the smell tells him without a doubt it’s Nando. It smells like that spicy chicken soup recipe he loves making on rainy, crappy days, and Remy had no idea he was hungry, but all of a sudden his stomach growls like a feral cat.

Jeez.

As he heads down the stairs, slow but steady, he can gradually start to make out Quinn’s words. “... do not understand even in the slightest how you can work like this—”

“Baby,” he hears Nando laugh, which puts a temporary stop to Quinn’s tirade. “I swear, there’s a method to my madness!”

“Oh, it’s madness, alright,” Quinn replies. “I mean, goodness , Sebastián—” There’s a clatter of dishware, like someone has put something in the sink. “You’re building an entire tower over here!”

Remy rounds the corner into the kitchen just in time for Nando to protest, “But I’m gonna clean it… promise!”

Quinn is the first thing he sees, orange-haired and pint-sized in a baggy (obviously stolen) sweatshirt and gesturing snappily. He stands next to the counter. “The issue isn’t that you’ll clean it eventually,” he’s saying to Nando, who leans against the stove with a goofy grin on his face and a ladle in his hand. The huge pot on the burner behind him, Remy wagers, must be the source of the smell. “The issue ,” Quinn adds, “is the mess.”

Which, okay, yeah. There’s a mess.

Nando has stacked the sink full of obviously relevant dishes, and both counters are laid with evidence that he was there, from cutting boards to empty cans to knives. Nando being a disaster cook isn’t new news, not to Remy or to Quinn or anyone else in this house— but he must have struck a nerve with Quinn today, by the looks of it.

Quinn looks ready to gear up for another rant, and Remy’s half-asleep brain doesn’t really love the thought of that, so he cuts in before he can. “ Crisse , Q,” he says, rubbing his eye as he stands in the kitchen doorway. “Is there a national emergency?”

Quinn folds his arms and lets off a sigh, leaning his hip against the counter. “There may as well be.”

Nando is grinning at him, like he’s trying not to laugh. “ Baby .”

They’re not alone in the kitchen, though— Ben is at the table by the window, sketching by the looks of it, based on his huge spreads of paper and the pencil stuck into his bun. Jordy and Sam are playing cards at the same tabletop Quinn is leaning against, and X is next to them, on his phone. “Stay out of it, Rem,” Ben remarks, turning in his seat to face him, with a half-grin on his face. “He is on the warpath .”

Quinn snaps his head over to Ben. “I am not on the warpath,” he says. “I am maintaining a sense of order.”

Nando puts his hand over his face and makes a noise like he’s trying not to laugh. Quinn whips back to him and jabs his finger at him menacingly, which is really hard to do when you’re 5’6 but your boyfriend is 6’4. Quinn does it anyway. “ Sebastián Hernandez , you are going to get it—”

Remy suppresses a laugh of his own, and slumps into the chair across the table from Ben. “How long has this been going?” he asks, in a low voice.

Ben is still grinning. “Like ten minutes?” he replies. “He got in from his drama thing and unleashed holy terror.”

Remy sighs. “Great.”

“I hear you talking about me, Ben,” Quinn calls across the room, despite the fact that calling is completely unnecessary given the size of the kitchen.

Ben shields his face with one hand. “White flag! I surrender. I’m sorry, your majesty, for my great offense—”

“ Benjamin .”

Ben winces, and pulls the pencil out of his hair. “Message received,” he remarks, and goes back to his spread of papers. It is drawing stuff. Remy doesn’t understand architecture homework, but Ben is great at it.

Remy watches as Quinn walks back to the sink. He turns the faucet on, as if to conquer the stack of Nando’s cooking collateral. “How do you people live like this?”

“How are you surprised?” X asks, not looking up from his phone but grinning like crazy. “You were in here all last year.”

Which is true. Although Remy just moved into Beech for his first year this preseason, Nando lived here last year, too. Quinn is well familiar with the disasters he makes in kitchens, particularly the Beech kitchen. At least freshman year, he was relegated to the shitty student kitchen in the basement of Wilson Hall, the freshman boys’ dorm. Beech Street gives him a space of his own. Which is good because the whole team gets to eat his food. But bad in the process of making said food.

“I’m not surprised, Xander,” Quinn says, turning to X, in a slightly less homicidal tone. He holds a soapy blue sponge in his left hand. “I merely wish that a certain boyfriend of mine would learn to clean up his messes—”

“I told you, baby,” Nando replies, stirring his soup with the ladle, “I’m gonna clean, when I’m all finished. What’s the use of cleaning during the process, when I’m just gonna make a mess again on the same surface?”

Quinn turns off the sink, presses his fingers to his own temple, takes a long breath, and replies, “What’s the use of keeping your empty bean cans on the counter?” He points the sponge to the counter, where there are, in fact, empty bean cans everywhere. His point makes a flicking motion and sends a stray sud flying into the air. It lands on the floor. “ Empty bean cans , Sebastián.”

“They’re just cans,” Nando replies.

Quinn bristles, puts the sponge in the sink, and dries his hands on a kitchen towel. “And the rubbish barrel,” he replies, pacing to the counter, “is right there.”

Quinn scoops the cans off the counter, opens the top of the nearby trash, and drops them into the bag beneath. With a hmph , he turns his pointy, freckled nose up at Nando, like he’s saying so there.

Nando blows him a kiss, which intensifies Quinn’s rage. “Thanks, mi amor .”

Across the table, Ben is still grinning even as he draws, like he wants to laugh, and Remy can’t blame him. This is not at all an unfamiliar dynamic— since their earliest days dating, Nando and Quinn’s relationship has been characterized by bickering like they’re an old, married couple.

Well, okay. In actuality, their ‘bickering’ looks more like Quinn bitching at Nando and getting nothing but heart eyes in return. Nando is a simp, and Quinn is an irritable priss, and they’re in love.

Remy doesn’t get romance, but he knows it works for them.

Ben looks up from his sketching, and catches Remy’s eye across the table. He wears the unmistakable smile of someone who is going to cause problems on purpose. “Duck,” he murmurs, in a mischievous voice with volume only for him. “Watch this.”

“Oh, God,” Remy mutters, but it’s too late.

Ben leans over the back of his chair and remarks, “Y’know, Quinny, you talk mad shit for someone who can’t cook to save his life.”

Remy snorts into the neckline of his sweatshirt. “ Ben .” At the stove, Nando guffaws. Jordy and Sam, who, as wise, observant bystanders, have chosen to remain quiet right up until now, both start heckling like their brains are connected. (They’re a D-pair, so they probably are, come to think of it.) “ Yoooo ,” Sam mumbles, and Jordy lets out a quiet, “Oh, shit.”

Flushed pink in the face, Quinn whirls on his heel to face Ben and Remy’s table. He has the energy of a tea kettle that’s ready to start screeching. “ Benjamin Shaley .”

Ben grins, owning his chirp. “What, so you can dish it, but you can’t take it?”

“You’ve gotta get used to that,” Jordy cuts in. “Being manager comes with the responsibility to get chirped…”

“Oh, trust me, Jordan.” Of all the people in the kitchen, Jordy seems to have irritated Quinn the least. “I am well accustomed to the chirping.”

“Yeah, Jordy,” Nando adds, with a big grin as he pulls up a steaming ladle of his soup. “He’s been dating me for two years.”

“Oh, please ,” Ben replies, because he is clearly not done. “I’ve never heard you chirp him in your life , Nanny. All you do is kiss his ass.”

Remy snorts again. “ Yoooooo !” Sam cries.

Nando drops his ladle into the pot. “ Rho ! I do too chirp him!”

Ben laughs wildly. “You do not ,” he says. “You don’t dare chirp him. You’re too busy simping twenty-four-seven.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you chirp Quinn,” X offers, still grinning at his phone.

Remy jumps on the bandwagon. “They kinda have a point, Nanny,” he says, and waits for the reign of terror to descend upon him.

But Quinn has apparently tuned out. Rather than participate, he has chosen the duration of this exchange to tidy up Nando’s counter mess. He throws away trash— the fragments of a poblano pepper, the remaining bean cans, a bag that held frozen corn. Then he deposits the cutting board into the sink with the knife Nando was using.

“There we go.” He wipes his hands on the dish towel, then turns around to face their side table again, and Remy thinks for a second that he’s going to take another shot at Ben. Instead, Quinn looks to him , which is terrifying until he says, very evenly, “Hello, Remy. I heard you had a nap.”

“Uh.” Remy isn’t sure if Quinn would kill him if he laughed. He can turn on a dime. It’s terrifying. But also beneficial, for managerial purposes. “Yeah,” he tells Quinn. “It was a good nap.”

“Well, good.” Quinn dusts off the front of his sweatshirt. It says Hernandez on the sleeve, as if its sheer size on him wasn’t proof enough that it’s stolen property. “I hope we didn’t disturb you too much.”

“Oh—” Now Remy does let out his laugh. He doesn’t dare tell Quinn that yes, actually, he did wake him up. He really did need to get up for the afternoon, so it doesn’t matter. “Uh, no. It’s fine.”

“Good.” Quinn smiles, then turns back around, walking to Nando by the giant soup pot. He rises on his tiptoes and kisses his cheek. “Isn’t that better?” he asks him, gesturing to the clear countertop.

Nando is still grinning, like the huge simp he is, and smiles sideways at Quinn as he stirs the soup. “Much better, baby.” He wraps him up sideways in his arm. Quinn gets swallowed by the sheer size of him, as usual. “Thank you,” Nando adds, and gives him an actual kiss.

Quinn is still flushed in the face, but now it’s that cheesy blush Remy has watched Nando give him so many times. Just like that, Quinn has cooled off, and the noise level in the kitchen is better for it. Remy looks away, because watching them together always feels like an invasion of privacy, even when they’re engaging in mild PDA. He thinks it’s just a him thing.

Nando keeps cooking. Quinn keeps him company. Ben gets back to drawing, and X to scrolling, and Jordy and Sam to their cards. The rain keeps pattering at the windows, and conversation returns to a normal level, and it’s a perfectly normal Sunday afternoon.

Yeah. Remy doesn’t get romance. And he definitely never will. But he loves this team, and he loves this house, and he really loves his friends.

[prairiesongserial]

11.13

The sun had slipped down towards the horizon while Cody hadn’t been paying attention, sometime between sitting down to lunch with Madeline and Fleetwood and being toured around the rest of the Bellamy mansion, trailing behind Madeline as she took care of various errands. It was nearly dark outside by the time the three of them left the house, hopping onto a ferry much like the one Cody had taken that morning to make their way back onto the giant steamboat where the circus was getting ready to perform. The tides had gone out, and a line of caves seemed to have appeared out of the shadows, great jagged shapes that jutted out over the horizon.

The steamboat now gleamed in the dim light of the evening, its decks strung up with bright, twinkling lights and adorned with the colorful fabrics and tents of the circus. Each deck was awash with activity - performers in loud outfits bustling this way and that, at least one of them carrying an armful of swords; men in Bellamy uniforms scattered around in groups, conversing or licking ice cream cones. The air was thick with a strange mix of sugar and sea salt, the noise almost overwhelming compared to the dour silence of the Bellamy estate.

Cody scanned the crowd for John, Friday, or Val as Fleetwood herded him onto the boat, but he couldn’t find them - they were behind the scenes somewhere, he assumed. Johannes didn’t seem to be around, either. Cody caught a glimpse of Enis dashing across the deck, toolbox in hand, and saw Ezra conversing grimly with a group of clowns, but there was no sign of the ringmaster himself.

“Isn’t this delightful?” Madeline asked, twirling in place and clasping her hands in front of her. “I think I’m going to get my fortune read. The fortune teller was so charming the last time I saw her. She said I had a lovely heart line.”

Fleetwood caught Cody’s eye with an expression that very clearly communicated the extent of her belief in fortune tellers, and said “Sure, Madeline.”

“Do you think they brought the animals onto the boat? Last time they had horses, and a dog show,” Madeline said, her eyes starrily reflecting the lights strung up around her. She had changed her outfit before leaving the mansion, and now wore a sleeker dress made of metallic purple fabric that would have looked at home on any of the circus performers’ costumes.

“How did they get a horse on the boat?” Fleetwood asked in bemusement.

Madeline either didn’t have an answer, or didn’t see fit to give one. Instead, she smiled at Fleetwood, taking her bodyguard by the hand and tugging her along at a faster pace across the deck of the boat. Cody quickened his own pace to keep up, dodging performers and weaving around Bellamys, still searching every face that passed him for a sign of John.

“That’s right, Fleetwood, you weren’t here the last time the circus came,” Madeline chirped, now sounding practically giddy with excitement. “You’ve never seen them at all, have you?”

“I know what a circus is,” Fleetwood said flatly.

“Knowing what it is and experiencing it are different,” Madeline said, glancing over her shoulder. “Tell her, Cody.”

“I guess,” Cody said, feeling put on the spot. “I’ve never experienced the circus either. I just joined.”

“Well!” Madeline clapped her hands again, letting go of Fleetwood, who looked rather relieved to be let go of. “You two have plenty to see, then! I’m going to buy candy floss for whoever wants some, and then we’ll all three get our fortunes told. And I’ll say hello to Mother at some point, I know she’s been around here managing people all day.”

They had reached one of the indoor portions of the boat. The sugar aroma Cody had been smelling wafted out from it strongly, underscored by the savory, greasy scent of fried dough, and something salty that wasn’t the water beneath the boat. The air was even thicker in the interior room, so humid that it was hard to breathe, and the entire space was lined with brightly colored stalls manned by carnies selling brightly colored foods.

Madeline stepped up to one of the stalls with very little hesitation, digging a handful of silver from the purse slung over her shoulder and ordering what Cody supposed was the candy floss she’d mentioned. The carnie at the stall, a heavyset woman with an arm that split into two separate arms at the elbow, pocketed the money and winked at Madeline as she began the process of actually making the floss. It was fascinating to watch - the woman took a paper cone in each of the hands attached to her split forearm, and swirled them in loose circles inside a machine with an open top that shook and rattled and sounded like the engine of a truck. As Cody watched, the paper cones accumulated wisps of what he assumed was sugar, until the wisps had netted completely around them in a thick, pink spider’s web.

“Here,” Madeline said, handing out the cones to Cody and Fleetwood, once the woman had finished them. “You two try it. I’ll wait for mine.”

Fleetwood gave the candy floss in her hand a mistrustful look, like it had offended her somehow. Cody couldn’t blame her. It was hard to trust a food that was so pink. The unnatural color reminded him of the radioactive glow of the Mississippi.

Tentatively, Cody took a bite of the candy floss. It felt like biting into a mouthful of cotton - and then it dissolved in his mouth almost instantly, coating his tongue with the taste of pure sugar. He must have made a face, because Madeline laughed. He glanced up to see her smiling at him. She was holding her own cone of candy floss, now, and grabbing for Fleetwood’s hand again with her free one, urging the group away from the stall and farther into the steamboat’s interior.

“Isn’t it good?” Madeline asked, raising her voice to be heard over the pops and sizzles of food cooking, and the sound of the carnies shouting to one another.

“I don’t know,” Cody said, honestly.

Fleetwood grunted in agreement, though she had somehow already devoured half of hers.

“Well, it’s one of my favorites, although I suppose it might be too sweet for some people,” Madeline said. They were emerging outside again, on the opposite deck from where they’d boarded. A gaggle of Bellamy couriers with red vests that matched Cody’s were chatting amongst themselves and smoking cigarettes near the railing of the boat, but fell silent at the sight of Madeline - or perhaps the sight of Fleetwood. Several of them nudged one courier in particular, a lanky young man with a face pockmarked by acne.

“Uh, Miss Fleetwood, ma’am,” he said, taking a step forward, his voice cracking horribly over Fleetwood’s name. There was a smoldering cigarette between his fingers, and he tossed it overboard quickly, letting the water extinguish it.

Fleetwood eyed him, still eating the last of her candy floss. “What do you want?”

“Well, I was - Mrs. Rhea sent me to find you,” the courier said, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Even in the low lighting, Cody could see the flush that was spreading across his cheeks.

“You sure took your time, then,” Fleetwood said flatly. “What’ve you got for me? Spit it out.”

The courier grimaced. “Somebody tripped an alarm at the courthouse. It might be nothing, but Mrs. Rhea requests you...take care of it. Quietly. She doesn’t want it to ruin anyone’s time at the circus.”

Fleetwood hummed thoughtfully, polishing off her candy floss and tossing the paper cone into the water much in the same way the courier had disposed of his cigarette.

“Guess I’ll take care of it, then,” she said, with an air of finality, turning to go back the way the group had come.

“Oh, Fleetwood, you can’t,” Madeline said, catching her by the hand. “Couldn’t Cody go instead? You’ve never seen the circus, and he works for them. I’m sure he’ll see plenty more shows. And if Mother thinks the alarm is nothing, she must be right.”

Fleetwood made a strained noise, but moved no further.

“I’d prefer to go,” she said, at last.

“Well...you’re my bodyguard, and I don’t think I’m very safe here without you guarding me,” Madeline retorted. Cody could see that she was slowly pulling Fleetwood back towards her, reeling her in like a particularly stubborn fish. “And Cody won’t mind going.” Madeline caught his eye, and quirked an eyebrow. “Right?”

Cody couldn’t have cared less about a break-in at any building the Bellamys owned, but he certainly wasn’t about to tell Madeline that. Not when an opportunity to snoop around a building that might contain important Hemisphere documents had just fallen into his lap. He’d been tired of running back at the Mississippi, and he was still tired of running now. He wanted to know who’d put a bounty out on his head after Ethan’s death. And once he figured that out, he wanted to find them, and figure out what he was going to do about them.

“Sure,” he said aloud, forcing a smile. “I don’t mind. I’ll go right now.”

11.12 || 11.14

[let-me-vibe]

Fine the first 10

Well now it feels like a challenge.

Full name- Spark Iguchi

Age- 18

I'm afraid of dolphins, the dark, and the inevitability of death

I love my family, Aimi, and Link the nonbinary legend we all deserved

I'm a minor, I can't legally be turned on you weirdos :P I'm like a broken car

My best friend is either Dai or Uncle Jin

I like gorls

Only had one first date, and that was... 😬

I'm "short"

I miss the house not being so loud all the time

We already discussed when Dad's innocence was truly lost

My favorite color is neon pink

I guess you could call it a crush? I have a girlfriend obviously

I don't have a favorite quote

I like this tea shop down the street

My favorite food is salmon

I absolutely use sarcasm

I'm listening to Ember, Kin, and Zome try to impersonate Dad's screamer music

The first thing I notice about a person is how aggressively they're looking at me

I have gecko feet, so shoe sizes don't really apply to me

My eyes are purple

My hair is naturally red, but I dye it blue

My favorite style of clothing is *aggressively hides all my curves*

I've done several prank calls

27 not applicable

My favorite movie doesn't exist for you yet

I don't have a favorite song

Or a favorite band

I feel alright

I lovvvvvvvvvvve Aimi

I still have a girlfriend somehow

My dads rock

My favorite holiday is Valentine's day

I don't have any tattoos or piercings

Nor do I want any, which works out, cuz scales (RIP Papa)

38 not applicable

I don't have an ex

I do get "good morning" and "good night" texts

I last texted Kurogiri, and I have kissed him in a grandkid way

I last held hands farrrr too long ago, poor lonely hand :(

It takes me about an half an hour to get ready.

I can't shave my legs, they are barren

I'm on my couch

Anybody on the team would handle me if I was drunk, it's just a matter of who finds me first

I don't listen to music a lot

I live with my dads and other various weird kinda family members

I'm excited to be an adult

Yes, I can speak to men

I don't fake smile unless it's for pictures

I last hugged somebody, like, ten minutes ago

If Aimi was making out with somebody else I think I'd scream so loud she'd assume I'm a dragonborn or something

I don't think I trust anyone I shouldn't

I still dislike my lack of toenail

If I could meet anybody, I'd meet God so I could punch him

No thoughts head empty

I can lick my eyeballs

I'm scared of dolphins

I hate having my picture taken

The last lie I told was promising Ash that I didn't find her annoying sometimes

I'd rather call people than video chat

I guess I have to believe in ghosts, and I don't see why aliens wouldn't be real

Obviously magic's real, look at Uncle C

I don't see why luck would be fake

Very sunny over here

I last read a Star Wars fanfic

I like how gas smells

I have too many nicknames to list

My worst injury is probably just binding stuff

I save money

I can touch my nose with my tongue

Ash is pink and in front of me

My favorite animal is Le Gecko

At midnight I was calling my gf

Satan's last name is Todoroki

Can't say I have a happy song, but MCR does make me feel nostalgic

Win my heart by feeding me and giving me ripped black jeans

On my tombstone, write "wasted"

My favorite word is "flabbergasted"

81 not applicable

If the whole world were listening, I'd say "****"

I don't think I have relatives in jail

If I could have a superpower, I'd fly

I'd be afraid to honestly answer anything about my sex life

Desktop:

I've had sex

Never bought condoms

Never gotten pregnant

Never even been to a class

I've kissed a guy

I've kissed a girl

I've kissed in the rain

I have a job

I have left the house without my wallet

Never bullied anyone

Never had sex in public

Never played on a sports team

I've smoked weed

Never done any other drugs

Never smoked

I've tasted alcohol

I'm not vegitarian/vegan

Never been overweight

Never been underweight

I've been to a wedding

I've been on the computers for far longer than 5 hours at a time

I've watched TV for more than 5 hours at a time

I have left Japan

Never had my heart broken

Never been to a sports game

I've broken several bones

I cut my finger cooking once, but that's nothing compared to training with Papa

Never been to prom

Never been in a plane

Or a helicopter

Or been to a concert

I have a freAking girlfriend

Never learned another language

Never worn makeup

I lost my v card when I was 15

I have had oral sex

I have dyed my hair

Never voted

Never been in an ambulance

Or had surgery

I live with famous people

Never stalked anyone

Or peed outside

Or been fishing

I have helped a charity

Never been rejected by a crush

Or broken a mirror

Uhhhh I dunno what I want for my birthday

No kids 😤

I wasn't named after anyone

My handwriting's great

My favorite toy as a kid was Papa's face

Don't have a favorite show

I want to have a big rich person house

I don't play any instruments

I got a scar from itching my face too much

Only cheese should be on pizza

I'm afraid of the dark

I'm afraid of heights

I have been caught making mischief

Never dissapointed myself

I suck at knitting

My greatest achievment is beating Papa at Mario Kart once

Never really had anything specifically mean directed at me

If I won the lottery, I'd get top surgery

I like everything about myself

153 not applicable

I want a chocolate pool

[azvolrien]

Water Horses - Chapter Two

In which some plans are laid and we find out why Asta’s back was sore.

~~~

           The pain in Asta’s back had dulled from a knife-blade to a steady ache when she woke, but an equally steady quiver in her gut and her hands had arrived to join it. She sat up, rubbing her face – another sharp pain lanced across her back with the movement – before she twisted around to perch on the edge of the bed, lowered her feet to the floor, took a deep breath, and lurched upright. The room spun; she pressed both hands against the wall, taking deep, shaking breaths until it stilled.

           For a moment she looked over her shoulder, frowning at the unfamiliar room. None of the chambers in Lady MacArra’s house had been round with drystone walls and a chimney in the centre like the hub of a wheel. Then the previous day came back to her with a vengeance and she almost had to sit down again. But it was true – she, a mere scribe untrained in any kind of survival or combat skills, had stolen her construct from her new owner’s desk and fled the MacArra estate outside Duncraig, riding full-pelt throughout the day all the way down Loch Gorm to the ‘haunted’ broch of Dun Ardech. A small, breathy laugh escaped her.

           The smell of cooking and the sound of Roan whistling to herself drifted up from downstairs. Asta took another deep breath and, leaning heavily on the wall, followed them down to the main room.

           Roan looked up from the frying pan she had balanced on a stand over the fire and grinned. “Well, look who’s up – good afternoon, sleepy-head!” She tapped her wooden spoon on the edge of the pan. “I’ve got eggs here just now, and I’ll be starting on some fish in a minute. Both, one or neither? There’s some bread as well if you’d rather that.”

           Asta opened her mouth to answer and collapsed to all fours at the foot of the stairs.

           “Whoa, hey!” Roan set the frying pan down on the hearthstone and crossed the room at a run to help her back to her feet. “Easy there, I’ve got you – just give me your arm and – oh, gods.”

           “Hah?” Asta twisted her head to the side, trying to look down at her back. All she could make out was a blurry stripe of red on her shoulder, striking against the white linen of her tunic, but the implications struck her all too clearly. “Ha-oh. Oh.” Her stomach lurched; she clamped a hand over her mouth.

           “Hey, look at me!” Roan gripped her upper arms in both hands and ducked her head to look in her eyes. “Deep breaths. Now…” She took her own advice. “…I think you should let me have a look at your back for you.”

           Asta swallowed her reluctance and nodded. “Yes. I-I think that might be a good idea.”

           Roan helped her to the nearest chair and, once satisfied her guest wasn’t about to keel over again, left her to get ready while she went to rummage in one of the cupboards over by the kitchen. Asta awkwardly pulled her bloodstained tunic off over her head and knelt on the chair, folding her arms over the back just as Roan returned with a metal box painted with a symbol Asta vaguely recognised as belonging to the devotees of a local medicine god.

           “I won’t sugar-coat it for you,” said Roan as she took a pair of scissors from the box. “There’s no ‘probably’ about it – this is going to hurt. But you will feel better afterwards, I swear.” She began to cut away the bandages Asta had haphazardly wound around her chest. Asta clenched her jaw as the scabs tore away with the cloth and warmth began to trickle down her back again.

           Roan’s breath hissed through her teeth. “What excuse,” she said in a low, dangerous voice, “did they give you for this?”

           Asta sighed and closed her eyes, as much against the memory as the sight. “Daro – the man you spoke to – called it ‘pre-emptive discipline’. He wanted… to be sure I knew my place now that his grandmother wasn’t around to protect me.”

           Roan muttered a curse, tipped something from a small glass bottle onto a clean cloth, and began to clean away the blood – and other fluids – oozing from the ugly whip-furrows on Asta’s back, criss-cross over her skin from her waist to her shoulders. As promised, it hurt; Asta choked off a scream. Roan silently handed her a scrap of leather to bite down on and kept cleaning.

           “Stormhaven wound tincture,” she said once she had finished and tied a fresh, much neater dressing over the scars. “Hurts like hell, right enough, but it’ll have burnt out whatever sickness was taking hold in those and they’ll heal much quicker now. Sit tight for a minute – I have a clean tunic you can borrow, and then we can eat.”

           She brought another woollen tunic – a little too big for Asta, as Roan was a few inches taller – down from upstairs and they ate in silence, side-by-side on one of the couches.

           “They weren’t planning to sell you, then,” said Roan, putting her plate down once she had finished. “Slaves with that many whip marks don’t sell for as much. Buyers are less willing to go for someone they think will be a troublemaker.”

           “No, I don’t think they were,” said Asta quietly. Also as promised, her back already felt a lot better; the fire in it had died down to a mere warmth. “I heard somebody say that they didn’t have slavery in the Sea Lochs before they were annexed into the Empire.”

           “Oh, they did,” Roan assured her. “It’s been practised for centuries – not much room for moral superiority there. But it didn’t become the sort of industry it is now until then, no – there just wasn’t the population to support it. Well-off families would have a few household thralls, but it wasn’t such a pillar of trade. But today, a certain Lady MacArra the Younger and her children are neck-deep in it.”

           “How do you know so much about it?”

           Roan closed one hand around her other wrist and stretched both arms above her head. “I have a degree in finance from the University of Duncraig. Economic History was a required course in my first year.” She glanced to the side, caught Asta’s stare, and grinned. “I wasn’t always a hermit.”

           “So you – what? You got tired of accounting and ran off to become a semi-feral sea witch?”

           “Aye, that’s about it.”

           “Maybe I should have done that…” Asta sighed and finished her eggs and fish. “So… speaking of history… Imperial law does have a few things to say about harbouring runaway slaves.”

           “Funny thing about Imperial law,” said Roan, gesturing with her fork. “It’s not as rigid as the lawmakers would want you to think, especially out here on the fringes. Generally, so long as you pay your taxes and aren’t actively plotting to assassinate anyone, the Empire is happy enough to leave you alone. Think you can manage the stairs?”

           Asta shifted her weight experimentally. Her back only twinged. “I think so.”

           “Then follow me up to the roof. There’s something I want to show you.”

           She waited until Asta had joined her on the high walkway before she pointed out to sea. “Do you see the island out there?”

           Asta shaded her eyes with one hand. “Yes, I think so. How far away is that?”

           “About ten miles, give or take.” Roan placed both hands on top of the stone rampart. “Technically, it’s within Imperial waters and subject to Imperial law. In practice, it doesn’t cause trouble so it gets quietly ignored. There’s a market that meets out there every few days; I take my sloop out to trade for a few necessities – bread, medicines and so on – and I’m not the only person who sails there. I’ve also seen ships from Stormhaven docking there. And by their laws, there are no slaves in Stormhaven. Step over their border,” she clicked her fingers, “and you’re a free woman. Might be worth seeing if any of those ships will give you passage south.”

           “Can they be trusted, though? If they’re smugglers?”

           “Not all of them,” admitted Roan, “but there are a few I’d vouch for. Besides, Stormhaveners tend to have… strong opinions about slavery. They might even give you passage for free if you explained the situation.”

           Asta nodded slowly. “I suppose it can’t hurt to ask,” she said, equally slowly. “When’s the next market?”

           “Day after tomorrow,” said Roan. “We can take the sloop over first thing and see what’s what.” She smiled. “So I’d better give you a proper tour of the place before that, eh?” 

           Although only Roan still called it home, Dun Ardech had been a village once, not just a broch, and a little of that still showed in its bones. Asta had not noticed the previous night, but a few outbuildings sat in the courtyard around the broch itself, still enclosed safely within the outer walls. A chicken coop sat against one wall, while a few tough little hens pecked through a small but healthy-looking vegetable garden. Roan pointed out one small drystone booth as the outhouse – “And it’s bloody freezing at this time of year!” – and another, bigger shed as the workshop where she prepared the various animal bones and skins she made use of, from her sealskin cloak and the reindeer fur that lay across her bed to the smaller pelts of foxes and rabbits she took out to sell at the island market. Outside the wall, a little way inland and sheltered in the lee of a rocky outcrop, there was even a reasonable equivalent to a bathhouse: another hut – drystone, inevitably – concealing a spring of comfortably warm water bubbling up from beneath the earth.

           “It’s not deep enough to get a proper soak,” Roan said as they walked back to the broch. “That’s one of the few things I do miss about Duncraig – that big bath complex near the University.”

           “I know it,” said Asta, nodding. It was one of few that allowed unaccompanied slaves to use it.

           “But it works for a warm scrub if you have a sponge or a cloth. All the deeper water around here is either salty, unbearably cold, or both.” Roan shaded her eyes, peering into the sun as it sank over the ocean. “They’ll be hauling out soon,” she muttered.

           “Who will?”

           “Come up to the top of the wall. You can get a better view of why we stay away from the water after dark.”

           A short flight of stairs brought them up to the top of the outer wall, with a clear view of the wide rock pavement between the broch and the sea. Roan sat down cross-legged, watching the sea. Asta gingerly copied her.

           “You might have noticed,” said Roan, “that the gate through the wall doesn’t actually have a gate in it. It’s just a kind of narrow, angular corridor inside the wall.”

           “I did notice, yes.”

           “That’s because it’s not supposed to keep people out.” She pointed down at the surf washing against the pavement. “It’s a defence against them.”

           Long, sleek forms heaved themselves from the water onto the rocks, their smooth hides – solid black, mottled grey, even a few reddish-brown ones – rippling with both blubber and muscle. They were more graceful on land than seals, but only a little, with long webbed toes ill-suited to walking and heavy whale-like tails that dragged behind them. One took exception to another that wandered too close; both reared up onto their stronger hind legs, hissing at each other and baring pointed teeth that suited a crocodile better than a mammal. And yet, Asta could see how they had come to be called water horses: apart from those terrible jaws, their long heads and arched necks were a similar shape, and each one bore a narrow strip of longer hair running down its back from between its ears.

           “They come closer if the tide is further in at the right time,” murmured Roan. “Easy enough to avoid if you know they’re out there, but you do have to time your fishing trips carefully. The mares tolerate each other if there’s enough food, but the stallions will square up to fight even outside the mating season. You see the biggest one, there in the middle?” The water horse she pointed at was half the size again of the next-largest, and its scarred pelt was a pale grey with black markings like leopard spots along its back.

           Asta nodded. “It’s hard to miss.”

           “I’ve seen him a lot over the last few years, usually with his herd around him. He seems to be the dominant stallion of this territory, however eich-uisge map their waters out. And I think – couldn’t swear to it, but I think – it was him who responded to my horn call last night.” She wrinkled her nose in a sort of affectionate grimace. “I call him Riabhach.”

           “R – sorry, ‘Reevack’?”

           “Riabhach. Sort of not quite touch the back of your tongue to the roof of your mouth to make the ‘ch’ sound.”

           “Reevacckkh – sorry, I can’t quite get it.”

           Roan very carefully patted her shoulder. “You tried.”

           “They’d attack, then?” asked Asta “If we were to walk down to them.”

           “Absolutely. Like I said, they’re very territorial. But the gate’s too narrow for them – they’re not flexible enough to get around the corners. They stay out at sea while it’s light.”

           Asta nodded, trying to suppress her shivers as the sky dimmed. Roan heaved a sigh and stood up. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go back in and get the fire going.”

           The next day dawned to a hard frost and a dusting of snow on the hills looming above the headland. Roan changed the dressing on Asta’s back again and spent the rest of the day in quiet industry, heading out to check if the traps she set both in the water and on land had caught anything before returning to sort her catches – several fish and a grouse – and the rest of her goods bound for the island market. Asta made herself useful helping to pack everything into neat crates and bales, ready to load into makeshift panniers rigged across Pardus’s back and onto the boat when they got up early the next morning.

           The boat itself lived in a small shed, a few minutes’ walk up the coast where the rocks gave way to a narrow stretch of sand. Roan unlocked the doors and threw them wide with a theatrical flourish. “Ta-da!”

           Asta, not very familiar with such esoterica as boats, nodded appreciatively as seemed to be expected. Roan squeezed in around the side and shoved the boat out of the shed. It was about twenty feet long from prow to stern and roughly three feet wide, but despite its size it slid easily enough over the sand to the water.

           “Right!” said Roan, clapping her hands. “Let’s get the cargo aboard and we can be underway.”

           The boat did not really have a deck, just a couple of planks laid across the hull, but it still had a small ‘hold’ – more of a chest – near the mast into which all the goods – pelts, bones, and whatever foodstuffs Roan felt she could spare for trade – packed easily enough. Asta sealed the lid over the hold, dismissed Pardus back into its summoning stone, and at Roan’s insistent gesture stood back to let her step the mast and unfurl the sails by herself.

           “Did you build it yourself?” asked Asta.

           “Not from scratch, no,” said Roan, securing the mast in place. “But I did have to find it a new mast, and the figurehead’s my own touch as well.”

           Asta hadn’t noticed the figurehead. It did indeed fit in with what she had observed about Roan’s style: it was the skull of a water horse fixed to the prow, gazing fiercely ahead, while the white bone had been painted with flowing blue patterns like Roan’s tattoos. “You do seem to like… decorative animal skulls.”

           “What gave it away?” asked Roan, grinning as she fastened her sealskin cloak and settled the skull atop her head. “You can probably guess her name. Hop in – I’ll give us a shove.”

           Within minutes, the sails had caught the wind and the little sloop was skimming over the waves towards the island in the distance. Asta hunkered down and tried to stay out of the way of the boom.

           “This market we’re going to…” she said. Roan adjusted her grip on a rope and nodded to show she was listening. “How… how rough a sort of place is it?”

           “Well, it’s not exactly Siraki Square,” said Roan, “but it’s not the Black Vennel either. Stick close and you’ll be fine.”

           “Have you ever had trouble there?”

           “Once, near the beginning,” said Roan brightly. “Lad from up in Kaldrfjord tried to con me out of some good pelts, then gathered a bunch of his pals with big sticks to support his argument. Set me right off, and I never had any bother again.”

           “What do you mean, they set you off?”

           “Hmm…” Roan wrinkled her nose again, this time in thought. “D’you know what a berserker is?”

           Asta nodded warily. She had once seen one fighting in the Grand Arena, back in Kiraan before all her family’s trouble had started. The man – a blond-haired giant from distant Myrkfjord – had hacked his way with sword and axe through six opponents in a row, howling like a wild beast and completely heedless of the wounds he accumulated, before the arena marshals had finally managed to subdue him.

           “There are a lot of different theories about where it comes from,” continued Roan. “The traditional one is that it’s a blessing from Torravon, the Sea Loch goddess of war. Some people think that it’s inherited, or that there’s something in the water around here. The only thing I’m sure of is that I am one.” She caught the worry in Asta’s eyes and shot her a reassuring smile. “But a bit different to whatever flailing blood-soaked carnage-maker you’re picturing,” she added. “I don’t go into a battle-frenzy so much as a battle-focus. It’s… hard to describe. Hopefully you’ll never see it.”

           “…Is that another reason you live out here?”

           “It’s not at the top of the list, but it is on there. I hasten to add that I didn’t kill the Kaldrfjord crowd. Just sent them running scared.”

           “You’re an interesting skill-set, Roan. Accountancy, sailing, first aid, combat…”

           Roan shifted the tiller, adjusting their course slightly. “You’ve got your history, and I’ve got mine. Besides – my lifestyle leaves me with a fair amount of time for practising new skills.” She grinned again. “I do enjoy sailing, though.”

           It was a fine day for it, bright and crisp with a good wind, but even so the voyage out to the island took a couple of hours. Each-Uisge pulled up next to a wooden jetty at the south end of the island, and it wasn’t the first to do so. Many other small rowing and sailing boats had moored nearby, while a few bigger ships rode at anchor just offshore. A well-trodden path led inland from the jetty and towards the distant rumble of voices.

           Roan climbed out to tie the mooring ropes. “We might be in luck,” she said, nodding towards the ships. “You see the one furthest to the left, with the two masts? I know that ship – that’s Curlew. It’s a Stormhaven trader, and its captain is an upstanding sort. For a smuggler, at least.”

           Asta began unpacking the hold and passing the cargo up to Roan. “You really think they’ll just give me passage, no questions asked?”

           Roan just shrugged. “There’s only one way to know.”

~~~

Like if you also want to run away to become a semi-feral sea witch.

Asta doesn’t pronounce ‘Dun Ardech’ properly either. Try as she might, she just can’t get the ‘ch’ sound and it comes out as ‘Ardeck’. 

[freespiritdani]

Okay, @freespiritdani, I wanna see how brave you are... The ASK ME STUFF list. All of them except the first one and the last one. Love ya lots, Mom.

Braver than you think, dear daughter! 

You should know be better than that, you’ve known me all your life....

Here goes:

2: Age -39

3: 3 Fears - flying, heights, snakes

4: 3 things I love - motorcycles, horses, being and living in the country

5: 4 turns on - intelligence, smile, heart, laughter

6: 4 turns off - body hair not on the scalp, bad hygiene, the male of the species, arrogance

7: My best friend - @cherokeesapphicangel 

8: Sexual orientation - lesbian and proud of it

9: My best first date - November 7, 2005, with the woman who would eventually become my world and my wife

10: How tall am I - 5′4″

11: What do I miss - things I’m no longer allowed to do post-heart attack

12: What time were I born - 6:12 AM

13: Favourite color - bright red

14: Do I have a crush - does my wife count?

15: Favourite quote - “Love is too beautiful to be hidden in a closet.”

16: Favourite place - at home, on the sofa, curled up next to my precious Angel

17: Favourite food - sushi

18: Do I use sarcasm - Now whatever gave you that idea? (in other words, yes)

19: What am I listening to right now - my precious Angel’s heartbeat

20: First thing I notice in new person - body language

21: Shoe size - 7

22: Eye color - chocolate brown

23: Hair color - black, no dyes.

24: Favourite style of clothing - “provocative”

25: Ever done a prank call? - yes

(where, perchance, is #26? LOL)S

27: Meaning behind my URL - I’m a free spirit.

28: Favourite movie - Hoodwinked!

29: Favourite song - “Niki Nana (We Are One)”, Yanni

30: Favourite band - don’t really have one

31: How I feel right now - very happy and content

32: Someone I love - my precious Angel (my wife)

33: My current relationship status - happily married

34: My relationship with my parents - they’re deceased (Mom in 2001, Dad in 2019)

35: Favourite holiday - Halloween

36: Tattoos and piercing i have - yes, classified (intimate)

37: Tattoos and piercing i want - Also classified (same reason)

38: The reason I joined Tumblr - Choices fandom

39: Do I and my last ex hate each other? - you could say that....

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? - from my daughters

41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted? - How the hell do I know? I have no clue who you last texted!

42: When did I last hold hands? - right now

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? - anywhere from 2 minutes to an hour

44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days? - uh, yeah!

45: Where am I right now? - lying in bed with my wife, all cuddled up

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? - the mortician

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? - yes

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad? - I’m alive and they’re not, so I’m going with “no”

49: Am I excited for anything? - Yes

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? - Yes. My brother.

51: How often do I wear a fake smile? Whenever I meet an asshole that’s going out of his/her way to be annoying

52: When was the last time I hugged someone? - a few minutes ago.

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? - Not gonna happen

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? - yes

55: What is something I disliked about today? - went by too quickly

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? Oh dear god, that list is too long to whittle it down to just one LOL

57: What do I think about most? - a toss up between cooking for my wife and sex with my wife

58: What’s my strangest talent? - strange to whom?

59: Do I have any strange phobias? - I repeat, strange to whom?

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? - Behind, if a camera must be involved at all.

61: What was the last lie I told? - that I had totally given up drinking about 8 months before I really did

62: Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online? - neither

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? Yes and Yes

64: Do I believe in magic? - Yes

65: Do I believe in luck? - Yes

66: What’s the weather like right now? - cold

67: What was the last book I’ve read? - Cover to cover? The Rite by Jennifer Bene

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline? No

69: Do I have any nicknames? - Yes, many, most of them not polite.

70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had? - Numerous in a car accident in 2018, most serious of which was a punctured lung

71: Do I spend money or save it? Spend. That’s why Angel is in charge of the money LOL

72: Can I touch my nose with a tounge? Whose tongue? With my own tongue, no.

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feets from me? *devilish grin* Yes there is....

74: Favourite animal? - Eagle

75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM? - cumming

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is? - Artrip

77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? - “Show Me How You Burlesque”, Christina Aguilera

78: How can you win my heart? - (my wife already did LOL), show me you care about me.

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? - “Here lies a girl whose only crutch/Was loving one woman just a little too much”

80: What is my favorite word? - kitten

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr - not without their permission

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? - “If your religion causes you to be a bigot, something is wrong with your religion”

83: Do I have any relatives in jail? - No

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? - healing

85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? - If something happened to your wife and she died, how well would you take it?”

86: What is my current desktop picture? - See picture above question 2

87: Had sex? - Yes, as often as possible

88: Bought condoms? - no

89: Gotten pregnant? -Yes

90: Failed a class?- No

91: Kissed a boy? - Yes, unfortunately. 

92: Kissed a girl? - Yes, and I liked it

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? - Yes

94: Had job? - Still have job

95: Left the house without my wallet? - Yes

96: Bullied someone on the internet? - Not that I’m aware of

97: Had sex in public? - Yes, more than once

98: Played on a sports team? - Yes

99: Smoked weed? - Yes

100: Did drugs? - Yes

101: Smoked cigarettes? - Yes

102: Drank alcohol? - Yes

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan? - HELL no

104: Been overweight? No

105: Been underweight? No

106: Been to a wedding? Yes

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? Yes

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight? Yes

109: Been outside my home country? Yes

110: Gotten my heart broken? Yes

111: Been to a professional sports game? Yes

112: Broken a bone? Yes

113: Cut myself? Intentionally, no. Accidentally, yes

114: Been to prom? Yes

115: Been in airplane? Yes, once, when I was 8 years old. Had to be sedated because I panicked big time

116: Fly by helicopter? If being life flighted from an accident scene to the nearest hospital counts, then yes.

117: What concerts have I been to? Yanni, Christina Aguilera, Melissa Etheridge

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? DUH, I’m lesbian! My crushes by definition are Lesbian

119: Learned another language? Yes

120: Wore make up? Yes

121: Lost my virginity before I was 18? Yes

122: Had oral sex? Yes

123: Dyed my hair? No

124: Voted in a presidential election? Yes

125: Rode in an ambulance? Yes

126: Had a surgery? Yes

127: Met someone famous? Yes

128: Stalked someone on a social network? No

129: Peed outside? Yes

130: Been fishing? Yes

131: Helped with charity? Yes

132: Been rejected by a crush? Yes

133: Broken a mirror? Yes

134: What do I want for birthday? To be with family, especially my wife

135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names? Already have them, Marti and Staci

136: Was I named after anyone? First name, no. Middle name, my maternal grandmother

137: Do I like my handwriting? no

138: What was my favourite toy as a child? my teddy bear

139: Favourite Tv Show? Mythbusters (off the air now)

140: Where do I want to live when older? Where I live now

141: Play any musical instrument? Piano, violin, harp, didgeridoo

142: One of my scars, how did I get it? Heart surgery

143: Favourite pizza toping? Pineapple (sue me)

144: Am I afraid of the dark? No

145: Am I afraid of heights? Deathly afraid

146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? Yes to both

147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? Yes

148: What I’m really bad at - Taking credit for anything

149: What my greatest achievments are - raising 2 amazing daughters

150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me - “The only thing you’ll ever amount to is being a pretty cum dumpster”

151: What I’d do if I won in a lottery - retire

152: What do I like about myself - my body

153: My closest Tumblr friend - my sister

154: Something I fantasise about - not being so short