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closedafterdark · 3 years

Text

Two Way Ticket

Lee Saerom & Noh Jisun x Male Reader

9441 words

categories: smut, oral, mommy kink

Read on AFF

Eight months have passed since your rendezvous with Gyuri. Nakyung made sure to keep you and Saerom well informed about the clinic’s subsequent move and how her boss was coping. You were thankful she was able to be there for Gyuri during difficult times. Things between you and Saerom were beginning to get a lot more serious: from opening a joint bank account to purchasing your first car together. Even her dog Yeoreum has grown accustomed to you, often spending time on your lap more - something that has made your girlfriend jealous on more than one occasion.

With each passing day, Saerom’s beauty continued to flourish. You wanted to preserve these memories - bringing your camera each time you two went out, something she didn’t seem to mind at all. Saerom knew how to perfectly blend simplicity with confident elegance. She chose to embrace the warmer weather by wearing a simple white crop top that showed off the curvature of her breasts and abs that were the result of many long hours at the gym. Her skirt was brown with what splatter marks decorating it. It ended just slightly below her cute buttcheeks, showing off her long, creamy muscular legs. Her white fuzzy coat appeared out of place, yet perfectly complemented her outfit at the same time. Saerom’s chosen accessories to complete the look were large pearl earrings and a necklace you gifted her on your very first anniversary together. Garnering the stares from men and women alike, you were proud to call Saerom your girlfriend.

Leading you by the hand, you passed many alleyways and streets. Telling you to trust her, you could tell Saerom was smiling through her homemade mask as her eyes formed inverted half crescents. With the two of you continuing on, you noticed two large bright red doors which led to red staircases below and artificial grass on either side. It looked like the establishment was still stuck in Christmas while the rest of the area were enjoying a fine spring May afternoon. Letting go of Saerom’s hand, you stopped and wanted to take a photograph. Not even a second after you had taken a third photo, she grabs the camera from you and wags her finger. Wearing the lens straps on her neck, she takes your hand once more and gives you a firm squeeze. The two of you walk for several more minutes until you finally reach your destination.

The aroma of coffee and baked pastries filled your noses as you arrived at Saerom’s favorite cafe. She discovered it after the two of you first decided to live together and moved to a new neighborhood. Due to being a regular customer, the entire staff knew who she was - all of them greeting her warmly before subsequently doing the same to you. Deciding to strike up a conversation with a few of the baristas, you took the opportunity to take her bag and find a table for the two of you. With most already being occupied, you luckily managed to find one that was mostly secluded. It was almost hidden in a sense, probably a spot most employees go to for peace and quiet. You took out your phone and began going through it, looking to pass time. Opening the photo app allowed you to view the candid shots you captured of your girlfriend. You stood firm on your belief that no camera lens could truly capture Saerom’s beauty.

The first photoset was one you took of Saerom at a bookstore. She was casually flipping through the pages of a book you didn’t get a chance to ask her the title of. The mole just below her left eye was something you found extremely cute - if concentrations of pigment-producing cells could be classified as such. Her smoky eyeshadow complimented her complexion wonderfully, making her eyes stand out even more. The next photoset was at a high-end boutique, with Saerom emerging from the curtains as she presents yet another outfit to you. At that point, you had lost count of just how many she tried on. Saerom said it seemed like you didn’t care when you said she looked beautiful in all of them - but it was true. She could be wearing a plastic bag with holes for sleeves and you would still choose her over anyone else.

You smiled, thinking about how her smile instantly made your day. While you were busy enhancing the photos to look for minor details to edit, Saerom sat down next to you.

“What are you looking at, baby?” she asked you before taking your phone. Saerom swipes through the pictures with her index finger, nodding after seeing each one. Once she returned the phone to you, you noticed a mischievous look in her eyes.

“I know that look.”

“What look?”

“You know what look.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, baby.” Saerom said, biting the tip of her finger while her left hand gently began rubbing your thigh. Any sort of pretense about her intentions was put to rest as her other hand placed the restaurant pager on the table. The two of you made eye contact and there was no mistaking it: her beautiful deep brown eyes were now clouded amber pools of lust and desire. You were thankful no one was nearby as Saerom squeezed her breast, releasing an erotic moan while she continued massaging your thigh.

“We’re in public, babe. We could get caught.”

“Maybe we should…” she teased as she leaned closer towards you and used both hands to grab the hemline of your joggers and boxers underneath before pulling them down. You moaned as the cool air from above felt wonderful on your newly exposed cock. Saerom eyed it hungrily as she leaned down and released a small collection of spit onto it. Knowing how needy you already were she decided to tease you even more by puckering her lips and placed a lust-filled kiss onto your tip, causing it to twitch slightly.

With one smooth swipe of her tongue across the palm of her left hand, Saerom wraps her long, slender fingers into a fist around your base with a firm grip. The warmth of it causes your shaft to throb, earning a soft smile from her. Planting a quick peck on your lips, she slowly begins stroking your cock.

You let out a loud sigh of relief as the built up pressure inside your chest was being released with every up and down motion of her hand. Saerom bit the tip of her finger once again as she stroked you, feeling you leak all over her fingers when she ran her thumb across your slit.

Sexual acts in public places was nothing new to you both - yet it made you equally nervous and aroused as if it was the very first time. It all started with almost getting caught in your car at the beach parking lot one night when the security guard strolling by shined a flashlight through the windows. Then it was Saerom giving you a blowjob inside a women’s fitting room stall. You most certainly couldn’t forget bending her over the sink of a public restroom of a black tie required restaurant. But with most of the places so far, there was at least some semblance of privacy. This was a trendy cafe frequented by many, anyone could walk by and see your girlfriend stroking your cock without a care in the world.

“How about we make a deal, baby.” Saerom said in a lust-filled tone as her thumb continued to massage your tip.

“Deal? W-What d-deal?”

“If you can last mommy stroking your cock and not cumming before our order is ready, you can fuck mommy’s ass, baby.” Saerom whispered into your ear. Your eyes widened as you looked at your girlfriend’s naughty smirk of satisfaction. She had been teasing you with the proposition of entering her other hole for some time now, only allowing you to slide yourself in between her tight, round cheeks. The way she made it sound so forbidden made you want it even more. Your eyes involuntarily closed as the pleasure began to overwhelm your senses.

Saerom gradually began to increase in speed, encouraged by your moans and the way your cock throbbed in her hand. The mixture of her spit and your precum allowed her to go even faster, creating the familiar delicious sound of wet flesh. She counted five seconds silently before slowing back down, teasing you. Saerom had plenty of experience - knowing just what you liked. Which usually meant euphoric bliss on your part; except for when she wanted to take her time and edge you until the tipping point before bringing you back down to reality.

This went on several more times, each increasingly frustrating than the last. She giggled the entire time, enjoying watching you squirm and be helpless under her control. Your mental resistance was well beyond broken - at this point, it was all about endurance and resistance. You were determined not to let Saerom win. Not this time.

… Or so you thought. Saerom knew you weren’t going down so easily without a fight, which caused her to pull out her secret weapon. Grabbing your right hand, she led you up her smooth, creamy thighs all the way until your fingers began to feel heat radiating between her legs. You gulped as you knew where your hand was, like an adventurer finding a treasure chest. Using two fingers, you swiped in front of it, unsurprised to find out Saerom wasn’t wearing any underwear. She loved wearing skimpy thongs or modest panties that usually ended up bunched between her perfect ass cheeks, but eventually chose to forego it due to how many times you ripped them off her body. There was one time she bought an extremely expensive pair as a gift for your birthday, the thin piece of cloth not even making it thirty seconds in before it was tossed to a faraway corner of her bedroom.

Knowing it was a trap but going for it anyway, your two fingers found their way to her moist folds. Feeling your girlfriend leaking as well, you slowly inserted them inside her. Saerom moaned loudly as you entered her, her walls clenching you tightly, refusing to let go. You decided to up the ante, rubbing your thumb in a counterclockwise motion on her clit. It was now a war of nerves - both of you trying to get the other to orgasm first. But as expected, it was a losing battle. Saerom added more spit onto your cock and stroked you even faster, gripping your shaft tightly. You tried to distract her by pushing your fingers even deeper, but all it earned you was her pussy tightening.

“Cum for mommy, baby.”

That was all it took for you to reach your orgasm as you felt your abdomen tighten. You grunted loudly as your hips jerked and you exploded in Saerom’s hand. Your first few ropes could be heard hitting the underside of the table as you felt it land back onto her fingers and your thighs as you continued to release more and more thick, hot semen. Saerom made sure to continue stroking your sensitive cock, determined to drain you as much as possible.

The restaurant pager’s lights began to light up in a clockwise motion before vibrating on top of the table, signaling your order was ready and your subsequent failure to endure Saerom’s deal. She gives your cock a few more strokes, causing it to release small aftershocks as you recover from your intense orgasm. You struggled to catch your breath as you could feel beads of sweat form on your forehead. Once Saerom’s motions winded down and her tight grip on your cock was released, she raised her hand and stretched her fingers out to show you how messy your load for her was. She admired her work for a few seconds before cleaning it off with a napkin. She tilts her head slightly and moves closer to you, letting her lips meet yours as she gives you a deep kiss.

“You did so well, baby. It’s really a shame though - this nice, thick load would’ve tasted so good going down mommy’s throat. Or leaking down my thighs as we walk out of here.”

Saerom hated spending money at the movie theater's concession stand. Often calling it overpriced garbage, she always made sure to sneak in snacks inside her purse. Today was no different as she told the cafe employees to carefully wrap the baked goods. The movie theater was fairly empty - due to it being a weekday as well as not many movies being released. Saerom handled everything, from purchasing the tickets to picking out your reserved seats. With your fingers interlocked together, she leads you through the hallway and inside the theater. The two of you arrived just as the pre-movie commercials were about to end. Once Saerom handed you the movie tickets, you shined your phone flashlight on it.

“Babe, this movie is from like two months ago. We watched it at home.” you said.

“I know.” she simply replied, snuggling closer to you.

“Then why are we watching it again?”

“Because…” she said as her mischievous fingers found their way back onto the hemline of your joggers. “We aren’t going to be watching the movie.”

You should’ve seen it coming when Saerom chose the extra wide seats that seemed to be geared towards couples. She gave you a deep kiss on your lips before descending towards your lower body. Helping her out by removing your shirt, her eyes never wavered from yours. Your cock that was trapped inside the cloth prison was finally released, hitting her cheek. She laughs, licking her lips as she removes the pesky clothing completely off you and spreads your legs apart. Saerom watched every muscle in your face react as she blew hot air on your cock. You moaned the moment her hand made contact, using the same painfully slow pace she did at the cafe. While her left hand is busy taking care of your cock, her right fondled your balls - giving each a firm yet not too hard squeeze. She teases you by repeatedly lowering her head each time you think she will finally take you in her mouth, only to fake out at the last moment and continue to stroke you. She gave the tip of your cock a quick smooch to remove some of the leaking precum, something that only increased your frustration. Deciding you have had enough, she finally parted her lips and took you inside her mouth.

Saerom’s mouth was extremely warm and wet thanks to her built up spit. She strokes your cock as the first few inches enter her orifice before removing her hand and placing it onto your thighs. You felt like you were laying on a marshmallow, about to sink deeper and deeper into the chair. The only thing you saw was a soft ball of hair as she was bobbing her head up and down, eliciting satisfied moans and lust-filled grunts from you as your cock was getting thoroughly covered. Saerom loved giving you blowjobs as much as you enjoyed receiving them, the feeling of you throbbing needily inside her mouth felt like a sudden rush of dopamine for her. She always enjoyed having complete control over you.

“Fuck, mommy…” you moaned. Saerom took her time, wanting you to savor every sensation as she swirled her tongue around your tip before making long strokes up and down the length of your shaft. Saerom looked up at you, satisfied to see your eyes closed from her sinful act. Having decided she prolonged teasing you enough, she went to work - sucking your cock deeper and faster. As her head took in more of your shaft, her tongue flickered along your underside. Eventually she reached your base as her lips gripped onto your cock and refused to let go. Her head bobbed in a wonderfully fast rhythm that teetered the edge of getting you to climax quickly and being just enough to leave you wanting more. Having had enough practice during the course of your relationship, Saerom was a master at deepthroating cock. The sounds of you reaching the back of her throat echoed inside the empty movie theater. It was like a symphony for your ears as you mustered the willpower to look down and stroke her head softly, pushing away several loose strands of hair.

Saerom regretfully withdrew her mouth from your cock once she began running out of air. You were released from the velvety smooth walls with a satisfied hum from her, thin strands of saliva are connecting you and her mouth as you see several spit suds formed on her pretty lips. Your cock was glistening due to light emanating from the movie screen hitting it, causing the both of you to smile at each other. She spits once more on your cock, applying a copious amount all over your shaft. You rubbed her cheeks with your thumb softly, Saerom giving your tip another chaste kiss.

“Here comes your favorite part, baby.” Saerom said as she tapped your cock on her tongue a few times, causing her eyes to form crescents at you in anticipation.

Knowing just what she wanted, you grabbed onto both sides of her head and pushed yourself into her mouth. Moaning from the extreme pleasure, you wasted no time by roughly bobbing her head up and down. Saerom’s bright, lust-filled eyes widened with delight as she gags from you taking control. Her eyes began to water as she hungrily accepted your throbbing, needy cock. She didn’t even need to talk for you to know your girlfriend was enjoying this from the sounds being emitted as she gargled a mouthful of cock. Her nails dug into your thighs painfully as she moved your body to come closer to her. You obliged, closing the distance as you grip onto her hair and made a makeshift ponytail, holding it tightly as you fuck her mouth even rougher than before. Her tongue and uvula vibrated on your shaft, adding another layer of stimulation as your girlfriend was taking your cock to her heart’s desire.

All sense of time was put to the wayside as you both savored the moment. You regretfully let go of Saerom’s head when she began tapping on your thighs. She coughs, catching her breath as drool spilled out of her mouth and began dripping from her chin onto your balls below. Saerom was a disheveled mess, the hard work she put into her hair and makeup were no longer visible. She runs her lips along your length, kissing it until she reaches the tip before doing the same on the other side. She spit on your cock once more, the all too familiar squelchy sounds you were used to hearing rang through both of your ears as she slowly stroked you.

“Look at my baby being so rough. Did you like using mommy’s throat?” she asked rhetorically, knowing full well what your answer would be. Feasting her eyes upon your cock, Saerom pondered what to do next. Giving your tip a few licks before twirling her tongue in a clockwise motion, you noticed a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

The two of you quickly removed your clothing, discarding it along the various empty seats nearby. Saerom gave your tip a deep kiss before turning around, letting you admire her beautifully sculpted backside. The result of many long hours at the gym and a serious training regimen, it made the already divine Saerom even more unreal. Your hands naturally went to her round, supple bottom. You gave each cheek a firm squeeze, earning a giggle from your girlfriend. Saerom moaned erotically once the palm of your hand made contact with the soft flesh.

She was on her hands and knees in front of you - waiting for the very thing you two enjoyed most. You grabbed your shaft and slid your tip up and down Saerom’s folds, feeling how drenched her needy pussy was. Having had enough of your teasing, she pushed her body against you, allowing you to enter.

“Fuck…” the two of you breathlessly moaned as Saerom’s insanely tight walls squeezed the life out of you and gripped onto your cock. Her wet cavern felt wonderful as you pushed yourself slowly inside her.

“B-Baby, you feel so good inside mommy…” Saerom moaned as you closed your eyes and savored this wonderful feeling. It was Saerom’s favorite position - and thankfully, yours as well. You allowed her time to adjust to your cock as her walls clinged onto you for dear life.

You started off slow, wanting the both of you to prolong the moment. You gave her several weak thrusts as you held onto Saerom’s wide hips. Gradually building up the pace from the initial comfortable rhythm, Saerom’s moans and wordless gaps began to steadily increase in volume. She was hot, wet, and tight - all things that never changed despite the two of you taking pleasure in each other’s bodies almost every single day. She took pride in suffocating your cock to the point where it started to hurt. Whether it be her mouth or her pussy, Saerom knew how to make the most of her wonderful body. The natural lubrication from her juices allowed you to eventually move in and out of her with relative ease.

“Fuck… Fuck mommy harder, baby.” Saerom whined.

“What does mommy want?” you asked, giving her butt harsh slaps on both cheeks.

“O-Oh, fuck! Fuck mommy harder!” She screamed. Grabbing Saerom’s toned arms, you held onto her wrists delicately, causing her body to raise upwards for support as your hips thrusted inside her pussy. The sounds of flesh against flesh filled the empty movie theater, making the video in front of you rendered obsolete compared to the true main event. You felt her clench her walls against your shaft as you fucked your girlfriend harder like she wished.

The sounds of Saerom’s plump ass smacking against your lower body turned you on even more, causing you to go harder and deeper inside her. The sight of her cheeks clapping together was sort of hypnotizing - as if mocking you that your current pace was still not enough. Her pussy continues to tighten deliciously around you as you kiss her sweaty back.

“You’re making mommy feel so good, baby!” Saerom said in a half scream, half moan. Every word was dripping with pure desire and lust. You released your hold on her wrists, causing her body to plop onto the theather’s leather-bound chair. This didn’t last long, however, as you grabbed onto Saerom’s long, beautiful hair and formed a makeshift ponytail. While her raven colored locks flowed freely like cascading waterfalls - of which earned her many compliments from friends and coworkers alike, Saerom always explained she wanted to try something new. The real reason she grew it out was she enjoyed having it pulled during sex. Especially in your current position behind her.

With one hand holding her hair, your other gripped tightly on her shoulder. You were afraid you were being a bit too rough and would leave a bruise, but the way her pussy tightened around you along with the clouded, lust-filled look she gave you was all you needed. You were quick right away, thrusting into Saerom without any sort of build up. This temporarily startled her, before the familiar sounds of wet flesh, her needy screams, and the movie in the background having become nothing more than an afterthought all combined to create a wonderful symphony of pleasure as you fucked your girlfriend until she announces the end was near.

“B-Baby… M-Mommy’s going to cum.” she managed to say in between your thrusts.

You went even faster and deeper - wanting to do everything you could in order for Saerom to chase her euphoric high. It doesn’t take very long until she does so, Saerom screaming the loudest she has so far as you feel her pussy pulsating around your cock as it tightens and suffocates you. Her juices flood your shaft as her body shakes, she certainly would have collapsed if not for you supporting her upper body. You felt her begin to leak profusely, staining your thighs, balls and the leather below. Each wave of pleasure coursed through your body as you give her several more weak thrusts in order to allow her to ride out her orgasm.

You grab one of Saerom’s breasts, squeezing it gently as you pull her hair softly and lay down on your back, allowing her to rest on top of you. The both of you are heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. Saerom manages to weakly turn her head to its side as your lips meet hers. Each kiss was soft, full of satisfaction. Once you opened your eyes, you noticed hers were glazed over - returning to the beautiful amber color you always found yourself lost in. You held onto her hips and turned Saerom over so that your bodies were facing each other. Despite the exhaustion, her lower body began to grind itself against yours.

“Baby, you didn’t cum yet.” Saerom pouted. You felt her drenched folds coating your tip once more. It seemed once was never enough for her.

Saerom removed her body off you and got up on wobbly legs, grabbing your hands and helping you stand up. She gave the tip of your cock another kiss, sucking on it lightly before parting her lips and taking you inside her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down quickly, taking you all the way down to your base. You groaned as she tried her best to giggle through a mouth full of cock, the very action causing your underside to vibrate and add on another layer of pleasure. Her lips were sealed tight as the sounds of her slobbering all over your cock helped your fast approaching orgasm arrive even quicker.

“Fuck, mommy. I’m going to cum.” you announced as you felt a knot inside of you.

Saerom released your cock with a loud pop as she used her left hand to stroke you quickly, the lubrication of her mouth and juices helping make the task relatively easy. Saerom’s big, beautiful eyes looked right back at yours - eager for you to feel the same way you made her feel not even mere minutes ago. Your breaths became more shallow as she helped you reach your tipping point.

You weren’t even able to announce to Saerom that your orgasm arrived. You moaned loudly as your cock throbbed in her hand and you exploded all over her beautiful face. Thick ropes of cum are released in impressive speed as it paints her forehead. The next few land near her right eye, causing her to involuntarily close it. She continued stroking your length as you continued to release spurt after spurt of hot, thick semen. With the final two ropes landing on her cheek and her awaiting tongue, you felt all of the built up tension and pressure being released from your body as Saerom drains your balls dry. You opened your eyes and were surprised to see just how much you came on her face.

Saerom giggled as she cleans the leftover cum dribbling out of your slit, bobbing her head a few more times for good measure. She allowed you to admire your work, her chest heaving as she puckered her lips and blew a kiss at you. The two of you managed to finish just as the lights above turned on and the end credits of the film were starting to play. Saerom uses her fingers to trace all the spots she felt your load dripping down her face and puts it in her mouth.

“You taste so yummy, baby.” Saerom said. “Looks like mommy’s diet has been working out after all.”

The two of you quickly got dressed and hurried out of the theater before the cleaning employees arrived.

For about a month now, Saerom got you onto a strict regimen. Making you cut out “useless” carbs, sugar, red meats - basically all of the foods you enjoyed. Knowing you would whine or complain, she always shut you up by implementing a no sex rule or edging you everyday until you complied. She had everything fully planned out down to the minute. It wasn’t easy, or fun, but the results spoke for themselves. You begrudgingly admit it was working… especially in regards to your increased sexual stamina.

After a quick change of clothes at home, the two of you are going to visit one of Saerom’s friends. She never said who - always wanting to keep things a mystery until the very last moment. Saerom held your hand tightly as the two of you entered the gym. Normally the unmistakable scent of sweat and loud grunts would be heard. But this particular gym was completely empty - not a soul in sight. You and Saerom sat at a nearby table. Asking her why you two were here instead of your usual gym, you hear a door near the weight rack open.

“Oppa! Unnie!”

You looked up and smiled. Noh Jisun - Saerom’s former roommate and someone you were quite close to who was as much of a fanatic about the gym as she was. The last time you saw her, her hair was much longer with a fringe style to cover her forehead. This time, her shoulder length hair was a deeper shade of brown. She styled it in a way that it parted more towards the left side of her head. She wore a simple outfit of a black v-neck shirt, gray leggings that complemented her curvy figure nicely, black socks, and a black and white windbreaker. She ran towards the two of you and hugged Saerom immediately. Your girlfriend reciprocated, happy to see her after so long. A few minutes later, she let go and turned to you.

“Hi, oppa.” Jisun said, smiling. You returned her smile and gave her a hug as well. She pulled you in tightly - you forgot how much she loved giving hugs. She left your embrace slightly before moving her head close to your ear.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun today.”

The hairs on the back of your neck raised as her words tingled inside your ear. It was a technique you heard many times early on during your relationship with Saerom. Jisun quickly became popular in an online community, with many tuning in to her videos and occasional livestreams. You never understood the appeal of people wanting to listen to someone whisper the entire time but respected Jisun making the most out of a niche demographic.

“What brings you guys over here?” Jisun asked.

“We wanted to visit and see how you were doing.” Saerom replied.

“It seems like you’re doing pretty well for yourself, Jisun.”

“I guess you can say that.” Jisun said, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “The ASMR community loves my videos. I was able to save up enough to open up this place.”

“That’s so great!” Saerom said. “Look baby, she even has the weights you like!”

Looking to the direction your girlfriend was pointing at, you noticed differently colored plates of various sizes. While gradually being able to increase how much you could lift, you also enjoyed mixing the colors together. Not a single weight was out of place - something you personally didn’t enjoy seeing at your regular gym.

Saerom interlocks her fingers with yours. You smiled - she always knew how to calm you down whenever you felt anxious. Briefly looking at Jisun, you noticed a slight glimpse of anger in her eyes. Before you could say anything, Saerom pulled you along.

The tour of the gym was rather quick - Jisun quickly cycled through each of the machines as well as the rest area filled with goodies to indulge on. Upon reaching the Pilates room, Saerom wrapped her arms around your waist as she looked up at you lovingly.

“Isn’t this place great, baby? I’m so proud of Jisun.”

“Y-Yeah, really great.”

“I just remembered. I’ve been so busy lately I forgot to plan out the couple’s workouts like you asked. Sorry, unnie.” Jisun cutely said, pouting and looking down.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Saerom said cheerfully. “Would you be able to help out oppa though?”

“Sure! I’d love to.” Jisun said, looking at you with a mischievous smirk.

“Oppa’s been complaining about feeling stiff. I was hoping you could make sure every inch of him is relaxed.” “Every inch?” Jisun repeated, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Really make sure oppa releases all of the tension built up lately.” “Oh... I’ll have no problem doing that, unnie.” Jisun continued to tease by forming her cute small left hand into a fist and displaying a jerking off motion while miming her cheek being full.

Giving you a quick peck on the lips, Saerom puts on her headphones and goes to a nearby treadmill. You watched your girlfriend’s wide hips sway with each step as her plump ass jiggles, causing you to sigh loudly as you could feel yourself slightly hardening.

Feeling a hand cup your crotch is what brought you out of your daydream due to staring at your girlfriend’s lower body. You looked down at the owner of said hand and felt the breath taken away from you as Jisun squeezed a bit harder this time. Bringing her right hand to your face, you noticed the cute woman you were used to seeing was gone. Replacing her glazed over eyes was a look you know all too well.

“So, unnie wants me to help you feel relaxed? That’s no problem at all.” Jisun said in a sensual whisper, each word dripping with a honey-like tone. She unzipped her windbreaker, letting you see the outline of her breasts through the loose fitting v-neck shirt.

“Mommy will take good care of you, oppa.” She continued, untying the drawstring of your joggers.

“M-Mommy?”

“Don’t act surprised.” Jisun said, still maintaining her whisper-like tone. “I know unnie has been making you call her that ever since you would visit our old apartment.”

You were surprised to see this side of Jisun. The Jisun you remembered was conservative, someone who didn’t have much self-confidence and felt comfortable playing video games or being in front of a computer screen. It seemed being independent did wonders for her.

“Maybe mommy should take care of your lower body first, how does that sound?”

Yanking both your joggers and the underwear underneath, Jisun slowly descends into a kneeling position between your legs. Your cock is now exposed to the cool breeze coming from the air conditioning. It is a wonderful feeling, causing you to twitch slightly.

“Not bad… I can see why unnie liked having you over so much.” she said, her eyes trying to soak up as much of you as possible. Licking her lips hungrily, she grabs ahold of your base and gives you slow, agonizing licks until she reaches your tip. You instinctively closed your eyes, letting out a soft moan.

“Fuck…”

Jisun dragged her wet tongue on the underside of your shaft, painting a long stripe on the exposed flesh. When she reaches your tip, her tongue swirls around it, causing you to moan even more. Collecting the precum that is beginning to dribble out of your slit, she sucks on it lightly before replacing it with a generous amount of saliva. Using her tongue once more, she spreads it across every inch. You look down and see Jisun methodically lathering your cock until it is glistening from the overhead lighting. Once she is satisfied, she grips your shaft firmly and slowly begins stroking you.

She employs a familiar technique: counterclockwise motions and smooth up and down strokes. You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, feeling the pleasure her wonderful small hand was providing you. Her hand moves up and down with ease thanks to her saliva. Your moans increase in volume the longer she continues.

“You like when mommy strokes your cock, don’t you baby?”

“It-It’s o-okay…” you replied, knowing full well you were lying.

“Hmph.” Jisun pouted, running her thumb across your slit. “Maybe this will change your mind.”

Slapping her cheeks with your hard cock, you felt Jisun blowing hot air onto your tip, causing you to throb in her hand. She lets out a giggle and kisses the tip of your cock before lining you in front of her mouth. With a simple part of her lips, you release a heavy breath as she engulfs your cock.

Your hands hold onto the wall behind you as the pressure begins to build up, causing your eyes to close shut. Your moans continue as Jisun slowly bobs her head up and down. She takes the top half of your cock into her warm, wet mouth - each time sending waves of lust and pleasure coursing through your body. You feel her tongue dragging across the underside of your shaft. Forcing your eyes open, you look down and take in the fact that Saerom’s former roommate, Jisun was currently on her knees and looking at you while pleasuring you in a way you would have never imagined.

“Mommy, fuck… that feels so fucking good.” you moaned as your body was hypnotized by Jisun sucking your cock. You felt every muscle in your body relaxing as your cock was inside her hollowed mouth. Taking the initiative, you run your fingers through her dark brown locks before palming the back of her head. Jisun looks up at you and smiles through a mouthful of cock, happy you are enjoying every moment of her sinful act. Your hand follows along to her bobbing motions, guiding her rhythm before she temporarily retreats her mouth’s wonderful hold on you. Spitting a copious amount of saliva built up onto your shaft, she looks at you seductively as she slaps her bright pink tongue with your cock.

You looked out to see Saerom diligently exercising on the treadmill. All you could think about was how sweaty her back has become, and how good it would be to suck on her damp skin as you fuck her from behind. This, of course, does not go unnoticed by Jisun who pinches your inner thigh and causes you to slightly wince in pain as you see her slowly begin to remove her clothing.

“Mommy hasn’t been fucked in months and I am not going to let this opportunity go to waste.” Jisun said, as she removed her socks and slid her body hugging leggings down, revealing her creamy legs and wonderfully thick thighs. She makes a show of removing her shirt, leaving her in only a red lace bra and panty set. Despite feeling more self-confident, there is a hint of shyness from Jisun as she is mostly exposed to you for the very first time.

You always considered her to have a nice figure - but running her own gym and having a strict training regimen made the curvy parts of her body even more noticeable. The delicious line of her cleavage was enticing - you wanted nothing more than to bury your face in it. Jisun notices this and smiles.

“Now, now, baby. We don’t want unnie to hear mommy making you feel good, now do we?” Jisun said, placing a finger on her lips. It felt like a preemptive warning, a calm before the pleasure-induced storm. Stroking your cock several times in preparation, she opens her bra slightly in order to allow you in between her soft flesh. A soft moan escapes her lips as she wraps your shaft with her warm, perfect tits.

“Fuck, mommy...” you groaned softly, trying your best not to be too loud from the pressure quickly that striked you light a lightning bolt as Jisun takes you in and out of her hot cleavage. You were thankful Saerom wasn’t too close by and especially that she wore headphones as the sound of her treadmill helped mask the squelching sounds coming from Jisun’s tits moving up and down your cock. You sighed in content and looked down, seeing her push her breasts together against your shaft and squeezed you even tighter.

“Baby…” she moaned as she moved her large, soft flesh onto you. “You’re so hard for mommy.”

Jisun’s eyes were captivating - her soft voice causing your entire body to tingle as her breasts continued to wrap themselves tightly around your cock. Her cute features were replaced with pure lust and desire, currently focused on satisfying you. The tip and upper part of your cock constantly poked in and out between her soft flesh. Each thrust was delicious, wet and hot. Jisun was the master of pure seduction: each time you felt you were at your tipping point, she slowed down. After several minutes of teasing, she removes her heavy breasts from your cock.

“I don’t want you cumming just yet, baby.” Jisun said. “First, you have to make mommy feel good too.”

Removing the last of her clothing, you almost drooled as you finally saw Jisun fully naked. Not giving you ample time to admire her body, she leads you to one of the yoga mats nearby, pushing you gently on your back. She straddles your lap, rubbing her splayed lips on your cock. You moaned, feeling how wet she already was turned you on even more. She then dismounts your body and repositions herself, hovering just above your face. As your hands were about to hold onto her hips, she stopped you.

“No no no, bad boy. It’s rude to touch mommy without permission.”

She lowered her body just enough for you to feel the heat radiating from between her legs. It looked so soft, inviting. Jisun could sense your anxiousness as you squirmed underneath her.

“You want to eat mommy’s pussy don’t you, baby?” Jisun nonchalantly asked.

“Well… there’s somewhere else I’d rather you eat instead.”

Lowering herself fully, you grabbed her plump ass, grabbing two handfuls of each cheek and squeezing as hard as you could. This caused Jisun to moan as your mouth met her forbidden orifice. You kissed her heavenly soft skin, parting her cheeks as your tongue painted the outer rim.

“Baby…” Jisun moaned as her tight muscles began to unclench and allow your tongue deeper entry. Satisfied with your minimal work so far, you continued to stimulate her asshole. Spreading her cheeks apart even more, you pushed your tongue inside her puckered hole.

Jisun is quickly overwhelmed by all of her senses being overstimulated at once, as you feel her juices slowly leaking out of her pussy and staining her thighs and your neck below. You swirl your tongue inside her ass, just as she did when she was sucking your cock. Each contact sent multiple shocks of pleasure coursing through her body. Despite Jisun getting progressively louder the longer you were buried inside her, both of you have little regard for anything else, only focusing on each other. She pushes her pillowy soft ass against you even more, frantically trying to chase her own pleasure.

“You’re making mommy feel so good, baby.” Jisun said, feeling your mouth and tongue drench her inner asshole with your saliva.

Gripping onto her asscheeks even harder, you move your face from side to side. This causes Jisun to scream loudly as another wave of stimulation is added to her rapidly sensitive body. She is beginning to lose control of her senses as your tongue thrusts deep inside her asshole.

“Baby… oh my- fuck!”

She arches her back completely straight as you remove one hand from her asscheek and move your way between her thick thighs. Easily finding her clit, you rubbed it with the pad of your thumb. Doing your best to keep her from bucking her hips uncontrollably, you stimulate Jisun on both parts of her lower body.

“Baby… that feels so good. That feels so good. I-I’m gonna cum!” Desperation could be heard in Jisun’s voice as you continued to provide her with the pleasure she hadn’t received in so long. Each flick of your tongue caused her to tilt her head back. You knew it wouldn’t be much longer - rubbing your thumb on her clit furiously as you squeezed her asscheek and buried your tongue as deep as it could go.

“Baby, mommy’s cumming!” Jisun screamed as she finally succumbed to her orgasm. Her hips bucked wildly as you struggled to hold her in place. Your tongue was firmly lodged inside her asshole, doing its best to not let go as long, sultry moans escape her beautifully soft lips. Her thighs are stained with her sweet nectar, causing it to dribble down onto your chin and neck. Her orgasm lasts for several minutes, repeated aftershocks causing her sensitive body to rub itself against your face.

“H-Holy shit, baby.” Jisun said once the both of you felt her body finally return to normal. She buried your face deeper inside one last time before finally dismounting. Each heave of her chest allowed you to see her large breasts move up and down. A thin layer of sweat formed on her body as she smiled at you sweetly.

“Has unnie let you fuck her thighs before?” She asked.

You shook your head.

“Guess that’s another thing mommy will help you out with.” Jisun said as she helped you to your feet.

She spit on your cock several times to help lubricate it once more. The two of you are now facing each other. Jisun strokes your shaft back to full hardness before rubbing it against her inner thighs. They instinctively sandwich your shaft as the mixture of her saliva and nectar from her orgasm allow you to slip in between. Both of you let out a satisfied moan as your cock grinds against Jisun’s lips and her delicious thighs.

Her thighs were the perfect mix of muscular and thick. They possessed a unique softness to them, with Saerom’s being mostly muscular as you felt her slowly leaking onto your cock once again. Fucking her breasts was certainly enjoyable, but her thighs were thick, wide - and warm. Your newfound appreciation for Jisun’s body helped stimulate you even more as the two of you kissed each other. Your cock was nuzzled comfortably underneath her hot walls as you squeezed her asscheeks once more. This helped you increase your pace, her natural wetness allowing your cock to glide between her suffocatingly thick thighs. Jisun’s body was taking the euphoric feeling of outercourse to new heights - the two of you moaning in each other’s mouths. You savored the feeling of her creamy thighs and ass jiggling against your body with each thrust. The tip of your cock grazes her cheeks while your balls bounce against each side of her thighs wildly. The two of you could feel the pressure building up inside. You take this opportunity to gradually lower the speed of your thrusts, both of you disconnecting from each other’s lips as you press your foreheads together and breathe heavily.

“Y-You’ll fuck mommy now, won’t you baby?” Jisun pleaded. Her eyes contained a soft sadness to them, desperation in her voice.

Jisun wraps her muscular legs around your torso and causes you to fall back onto the yoga mat. Making sure she wasn’t too rough, she smiled as she straddled your lap. The lust-filled gaze on her face causes you to gulp in slight nervousness as she takes your hard shaft in her hand, stroking you before impaling herself on your cock.

Her tight walls hugged your cock instantly. Her hips meet yours, causing Jisun to release an erotic moan at the feeling of being filled. She arches her body in the same manner she did when you were eating her ass, taking you in and out of her wanton body. Your hard cock slides at a pace with zero regard for you or your comfort.

Jisun braces herself on your chest by firmly planting her hands, creating the wonderful side effect of her breasts being pressed together, giving you a delicious looking sight of the very same cleavage that made you salivate when from her earlier titfuck. Jisun’s breasts bounced up and down hypnotically as she rode you. Her previously glazed over eyes were now replaced with a determined, almost angry look. She seemed to be working out the frustration and anger that built up from her time as Saerom’s roommate, using your cock as an outlet with each thrust of her hips.

She bit her lower lip seductively, doubling as a way to prevent herself from moaning or gasping too loud and letting Saerom hear what was going on.

“D-Do you know how much you turned me on, oppa?” Jisun asked as she slammed her body up and down your cock. “How wet I got hearing you fuck Saerom unnie? How hearing you call her mommy made me want you to call me that too?”

Her moans quickly turn into loud screams that echo throughout the room as you relish in the fact that her pussy was even tighter than Saerom’s. Both of you soon find a comfortable rhythm as Jisun grabs your hands and interlocks them with her own. As she slams her body on yours harder and harder, her eyes roll to the back of her head from how your cock causes her to lose control of her senses. Her mouth is agape, letting noiseless screams of pleasure escape as the sound of wet skin loudly colliding with wet skin helps create a harmonious wave of euphoria. Jisun’s butt rubs against your thighs as your balls touch her lower pussy lips.

“Fuck! Just like that, baby.” Jisun yells in between bounces. “Harder. Keep fucking mommy harder!”

Your worries about Saerom hearing you both were a distant afterthought as you could only focus on the beautiful woman enjoying herself on top of you. With her hands now returning to being firmly placed on your chest for support, you begin squeezing her large tits, marveling at how heavy, yet soft they were. You squeeze both at the same time, pinching her erect nipples before giving each a firm slap.

“Holy shit…” Jisun erotically screamed. “Slap mommy’s tits again!”

You granted her demand, giving each several slaps as you alternated between slapping and rubbing the tender skin.

Jisun’s body shook with pleasure - her breathing became more erratic as the sensations of stimulating her breasts and pussy were causing her to go insane. The moment the tip of your cock reached a certain spot deep inside, Jisun screamed loudly and kept you buried into her hilt. Her body tenses up as she feels an overwhelming sense of pleasure flow from the top of her head to her toes, causing them to curl up. Her body shook violently as you felt your cock flooded by her juices. Her second orgasm was a lot stronger - hitting with such force that it almost pushed your cock out of her body.

You bounced Jisun on your cock slowly several more times as the aftershocks of her orgasm continued to occur. Her muscles gradually loosen up and she looks at you with a fully satisfied smile, her eyes glazed over in satisfaction. She leans down and captures your lips, thanking you for making her feel good.

You temporarily retreat from her freshly fucked pussy, causing Jisun to whimper as she gets on her hands and knees on the yoga mat.

“Fuck mommy’s ass, baby.”

Each word was dripping with pure lust and a desire to be filled.

Grabbing Jisun’s toned arms, you pushed her face onto the mat. You slapped her soft butt cheeks a few times with your cock, teasing her by sliding your cock between her cheeks. While you got a taste of it earlier, Saerom’s constant teasing about entering her other hole made Jisun’s wish for you to fuck her there all the more enticing. She moaned at your initial penetration into the tight muscle, her warm cavern constricting you.

“Fuck…” she moaned into the mat.

“Mommy’s ass is so tight.” you said, slowly thrusting in and out of her hole.

Her warm walls squeezed your cock painfully, arousing you even more. You thrusted into her slowly, yet deeply. Her asscheeks rippled from the force each time it collided with your torso. While you so desperately wanted to savor the moment, you knew it wouldn’t be long before your orgasm would be too much to suppress. Knowing this, you picked up the pace and held onto Jisun’s arms tightly as you fucked her from behind.

“Fuck, fuck fuck!” She managed to scream between each thrust. The two of you were sweating heavily as you worked together to help you achieve the same bliss you have given her.

You gritted your teeth - fucking Jisun as hard as you could. Your orgasm could be felt throughout your entire body when it finally arrived. You thrusted deep inside her, moaning loudly as her walls wrapped tightly around your cock, pulsating as you released thick, hot semen inside her ass. Jisun came immediately right after, her climax less intense than earlier, but feeling just as good.

“That was… holy fuck...” Jisun weakly said as she tried her best to recover. “I need to get fucked like this again.”

You turned her around and kissed each other on the lips, breathing a sigh of relief as you ran your fingers through her hair. The two of you were so exhausted and focused on one another you failed to hear the door open.

“Well, well, well.”

The two of you panicked and saw Saerom staring at you both with her arms crossed, tapping her foot as she witnessed the aftermath of what just happened.

“M-Mommy, I c-can explain…”

“You finished your workout that quickly?” Jisun asked.

“How could I not when your screams filled the entire gym.”

Saerom got on her knees and brought her index finger to your chin, tilting your head up slightly. You were terrified, watching as her big beautiful eyes met yours.

“You know better than to fuck someone else without mommy’s permission.” Saerom said. “Though I will admit it was pretty hot, baby.”

“How much did you hear?” you asked.

“Why don’t you find out yourself?” she said, putting her headphones on your ears. Expecting to hear something, anything - you were surprised to learn there was nothing at all.

“Mommy heard everything, baby.”

Saerom wasted no time peeling each layer of clothing off her body, causing your cock to throb at the sight of your naked girlfriend before you. She massages her breasts, moaning as she pinches her nipples.

“Jisun.”

“Y-Yes, mommy?”

“Why don’t we both make him feel good?”

“I have just the thing to help us out.” Jisun said. Reaching into the pocket of her windbreaker, she pulls out a clear plastic bottle. She squeezes a generous amount on Saerom’s breasts, with Saerom reciprocating the favor to Jisun. Both of them have a wicked glint in their eyes as they lather your cock with it as well. Stroking you to make sure you were evenly covered, both women got on opposite sides of you.

Pushing their breasts together, they sandwich your cock in between. Having experienced being trapped by each chest separately, there were no words to describe how it felt when they both rubbed themselves against you. The friction their tits created was heavenly as the wet flesh covered your cock, only allowing your tip to be visible.

“Like that, baby?” Saerom asked.

“You like mommy’s tits more, don’t you baby?” Jisun asked, moaning as her nipples brushed against Saerom’s.

“Oh, please.” Saerom said, rolling her eyes. “Your tits aren’t that great.”

“I bet I can get more of his cum on my tits than yours.”

“You’re going to regret saying that.” Saerom said as she picked up the pace. Both pairs of breasts began to squeeze and massage your cock, trapping it in between the warmth of their heavenly flesh.

It was the end to a perfect, stamina draining day. You only hoped this wouldn’t be the last time Saerom and you would be visiting Jisun’s gym.

An unlocked phone vibrated, signaling a new message arrived. Attached was a picture of a woman flashing a peace sign to the camera against a beige background with her looking slightly sultry.

[10:00 PM]: Oppa! I’m coming to visit! See you soon! 🧡

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #fromis 9 #saerom #jisun #male reader #reader insert

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 4 years

Text

Only Time Makes It Human 2

As promised, here I am with part two, hehe this is looooong and I'm really really proud of it 👉🏻👈🏻 part one here

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: college!au, angst, fluff, many smooches in this chapter I hope you enjoy

Warnings: mentions of cheating, smoking and Zeke being a little shit

Cobblestone streets and modern renovated buildings bathed in tiny multi colored Christmas lights decorated almost every side of Trost with Christmas creeping around the corner. Petra's eyes were gleaming golden as they landed on every store window, the smile on her face refused to fade. Her footing only became faster as they approached the turn to the familiar coffee shop.

Her cuffed up jeans swayed as she flickered her feet to the pedestral, expectedly catching Levi's attention, but not for the reason she'd like to. Today, Petra seemed too bright and bubbly to take notice of any puddle of water that was left behind from last evening's brief snow storm. Everytime Levi managed to open his mouth, in hopes of scolding her to prevent her from getting her feet wet she seemed to skillfully sway herself out of danger, leaving him with his mouth slightly parted while his unspoken words took a roote from the tip is his tongue back to his brain.

"Come on Levi! We're almost there!" Petra said enthusiastically.

Levi only managed to click his tongue in response. With a head that was begging to burst and hips that burned in soreness and superstitial scratches inside his sweatpants he couldn't possibly bring himself to catch up on Petra's enthusiasm. He even caught himself wondering how Petra was in such a good mood; as if she wasn't mixing any existing drink along with Hange last night.

His head was swamping him, drowning him with trillions of new questions with every passing second. It was merely impossible for him to ignore his point of view of last night's events. His mind was not even allowing him to take a breather, to enjoy a soul mending cup of hot tea before he could come up with any believable assumption as to how exactly he ended up in the position he woke up in.

As he sternly walked ahead behind his bubbly partner, his heart protested in his chest everytime he set his eyes on Petra's auburn hair. His stomach, much in a horrid condition as well threatened him to spill the alcohol poisoned insides it was welding; every aspect of his sore, hungover body deemed him unable to allow him to carry on.

Nontheless, as they took the inevitable turn the all too familiar coffee shop stood only a few meters away from him as he paced a few more steps, clutching his stomach along with each tap of his feet on the ground. Petra shot him a knowing glare before she set her hands on the vast metallic knob, a loving half smile lingered it's way across her full pinkish cheeks.

Winter time didn't suit Petra, she knew that as much as the next person. Despite the fact that the saturated rosy hue on her cheeks and nose made her look unbelievably sweet, her caramel like persona and choice of aesthetic screamed spring from miles away. It was a miracle that she could manage to get through wintertime somehow stylish and warm. With her lilac puffer jacket zipped up over her mouth and her wide leg jeans cuffed perfectly in order for her butterfly patterned socks to peak from her creamy Converse, she felt somehow confident enough that this could be a regular casual look for her.

However, with the holidays approaching in a week's time she knew she would have much more liberty to her clothing choices. She shot another warm look at Levi again, never loosing her small smile as she painted the picture of the two of them near Erwin's fireplace on Christmas day in her head.

Had it not been for his body pushing him over the edge of guilt be probably would have left his heart warm up by the small affectionate gesture.

Petra's attention seemed to deviate away from him for a few, mere seconds, with an ultimate goal to find a nice comfortable booth to sit in. Upon her eyes falling to the left she spotted one that looked decent, if not, the best booth in the cafe. Plenty of today's minimal sunlight was gathered on the spot; at the side there was a waitress, silently scrubbing the surface of the table with force, a tray with used cups and plates balancing perfectly on her other hand.

Amazing spot and recently cleaned? Levi's prayers must have been heard today.

She resended the fact that Levi would be too grumpy to let himself be bathed in light; with a grip of her hand around his wrist she pulled him towards the booth in fast movements. She couldn't have anyone take the perfect stand on her favorite cafe and plus, it would do good to both her and Levi to warm up under the nice morning light.

Petra loosened her puffer jacket off her frame, as silently as she could master; she knew by looking at Levi's face that he was in pain. It was unusual if him to get that drunk, she knew, but he had been particularly grumpy and almost too generous with his drink the previous night.

Not that Petra couldn't suspect the reason as to why Levi had managed to go to such extend. Her mind had been fast to put the pieces together when she saw you approaching their group and even faster to acknowledge that you seemed to ignore Levi and her completely. She had seen the effort and pain in your somewhat unfocused eyes every time you threw a small glance at them, she had seen the way Levi's face would fall with every passing second as your greeting to him never came and she wasn't one to judge.

When deciding to go after Levi after he had just broken up with you she knew she had to accept that maybe he wouldn't be able to recover from his past relationship that early as to get in one with her. Hange had warned her about it, her friends had warned her about it, but with her caramel sunshine personality and quick smart wits she had found her self in a promising position to Levi's future. In addition, they were having fun, joyous moments together, their linking had soon turned into what seemed like a blooming relationship.

"So." Petra beamed and shook her thoughts off her head, extending her hands patiently waiting for Levi to respond to the action by tingling his fingers through hers. "What's today's tea?"

Getting comfortable in her seat wasn't hard. The faux leathery material of the booth rubbed on her buttocks but with her jeans muffling most of the sound though she let it fall deaf in her ears. Still, her hands sat welcomingly extended on the table, her fingers occasionally motioning Levi to take a good grab at them to which he never seemed to pay attention. He seemed to distracted and anxious, too deviated of the world around him. But still Petra remained beaming, patient.

"Today." Levi sighed, burying his head between his palms, rubbing along his eyebrows with his thumbs. "Today I'll have coffee."

"Oh it's one of those days?" Despite not wanting to be too generous with her bubbliness to the point where she could irritate the man, Petra chose to simply lower her voice in understanding.

"Turkish, make it double and bitter."

Only on rare occasions did Levi drink coffee. He didn't despise the taste as much as warm lager though, what got him cringing with coffee was that he'd be moody and sad all day afterwards. But today sure had been an exception. No amount of painkillers would work for his head if he didn't get a sufficient amount of caffeine in his body. And since he already was in a shitty mood, how could coffee make it any worse.

With Petra out of sight for a few moments he was for the first time today, left alone with his thoughts. As his head throbbed memories roared their way to every corner of his brain, making his eyes squint. Anxiety would creep in and out as he thought of leaving you in his apartment confused and all alone, supposing you'd know what to do.

How could you know what to do?

In that moment leaving with Petra had seemed as the only possible thing for him to do; he couldn't expose you to her, for all that was worth you shouldn't have been there in the first place. But now? Thinking about it made him sick to the stomach. You were equally confused as lost in the moment and he had left you alone after spitting his anger for himself towards you, he made a mental note that a little self control couldn't harm him the next time he had to deal with promiscuous situation.

Most importantly though, he was facing an irrational inner conflict. He wasn't one to jump to impulsive decisions, but he wasn't one to be unfaithful either; his actions sat acute on his chest, sending dry gulps down his throat.

Petra arrived with two drinks in her hands before he had time to process his thoughts further. Sitting her self on the booth again she passed him the small white cup, the strong aroma of Turkish coffee hitting him immediately upon the action.

His chest tensed as he finally felt comfortable to shift outside of his jacket. The guilt inside him was tripping, lathering his stomach in vibrations and spending hot waves throughout his body. Suddenly, he couldn't bare to look across the table in Petra's direction.

She was sipping tenderly on her hot cup of chocolate cappuccino, her upper lip curled up in a sweetheart manner on the rim of the cup as she ogled at him with a feathery soft expression plastered across her face.

Though he loathed to be put in such position by his own self, the decision in the back of his mind seemed like the only rational one. As the time passed by and his coffee sat in the small cup, still as ever, his thoughts only roared louder. Was what he was thinking the right thing to do or was he just jumping into another heartbreak?

There was a sudden hunger eating away his insides, a need to see you and sit down to talk about whatever had happened last night. His heart was pounding at the thought of sitting across from you under a softer, humane setting, with your eyes starting into his. Maybe you could linger your hand into his, in the way Petra had prompted him to do so before and maybe he'd be able to somehow come up with particular words to solve the tention between the two of you.

But supposing that could ever be the case, that prompt left no room for Petra by his side.

"Maybe we should take a break."

The words left his mouth before he could manage to put an alt to his thoughts.

Without realizing, his eyes were now wide, starring deep into Petra's hazel ones. With shaky hands he grabbed his cup, deciding now that it was time to wet his dry mouth.

"No." Petra blinked her eyes erratically into Levi's, taken aback as she was.

It hit her like a truck.

One particular thing had struck Petra, back in the day when watching Mean Girls as a coming of age teen for the first time. The way Regina was slammed by the school bus was raw and unforgiving, perfectly fit to the nature of the scene and surprisingly it had looked realistic enough to make Petra -or anyone else- gasp. But had she ever thought she'd be in Regina's shoes?

"No?" Levi spoke as if he was right on time to answer the question in her mind. But Petra was still struck, mouth slightly agap as she stared back at him. Her mind was traveling on way too many places at once, sending anxiety to her stomach but she managed, despite all odds, to take a deep breath. Then, another.

"What's gotten into you Levi?" She asked.

"Last night was," he paused, averting his eyes with guilt.

Suddenly, Petra knew. She didn't have to try and guess what he was despairately trying to mutter. The evidence was everywhere, but she had deliberately chose to close her eyes. She should have known ever since last night when Levi left without informing no one. She squinted her eyes and furrowed her brows, by clenching her fists hard enough so that her nails were digging into her palms her knuckles turned white.

It was mostly his appearance that gave him away, more so than his behavior. When it was most likely for Levi to be unusually grumpy on many days, it wasn't like him to dress so randomly. His woolen black turtleneck didn't exactly match his sweatpants and his leather jacket. It wasn't like him to make such matches between his clothes, not even when he was in a hurry. In addition, she could see the marks behind his right ear, something he might have had no idea about, but she was going to spare him of the embarrassment.

"No, we're not breaking up."

It wasn't like her to mouth such statement; in fact, Petra would never on her right mind prevent someone from breaking up with her. She had seen it happening one too many times. Of course human relationships were made to fall apart at some point but her luck, especially when it came to romance, had never been kind.

She had been kind to everyone instead.

Whether people liked it or not that was her. Kind and considerate too much for her own good. She couldn't help that she was attracted to mysterious looking men with issues that would stand in her way of happiness; Levi was a tangible example. As much as she would like to mark her territory around him, she was aware he didn't belong to her. He had unbeknownst to him made sure to show on different occasions, whether it was by staring at you from afar for a lite too long or by finding her self being offered to wear your spare clothes that lived still in his apartment.

Maybe that was what was breaking her heart, urging her in turn to refuse his departure from her life. She didn't know why she shushed him in such way. Was it that her heart would tear in two if she heard an actual confirmation to her thoughts fall off the tip of his tongue? Most probably.

"I don't mind." She cut him off the moment she saw him opening his mouth to speak. "I'll help you get through this, I wouldn't abandon you for a slip up."

...

"(Y/n)! Where have you been we've been worried sick!"

The moment you set your collapsing feet inside the campus Sasha's eyes fell on your form, desperately shooting you simultaneous glares of terror and relief. The brunette practically run to your direction; with her feet stomping on the now discolored, moist grass that covered the majority of the campus yard she marched ambiguously. A worriedly frowned Eren who tried his best to contain his messy hair from getting in his eyes as he run, followed asuit.

"Jeez, why are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?" Sasha inquired, her voice loud as it was rang through your throbbing head, lingering in any possible hurting crevice. "Are you alright!?"

"Sas, don't scream, my head is about to explode." You muttered with watery eyes, begging your self to ignore Sasha's and Eren's puzzled faces.

"You reek of alcohol and sweat!" Eren exclaimed. "Shit. Where did you stay the night?"

"Beats me, Eren, I could have slept at a bench for all I know," you exhaled below a tainted breath.

At the sight of Eren's hard, unforgiving gaze, you could feel your heart speeding up inside your chest, the small vital organ clenched on your lungs, preventing them from processing air normally. Your chest burned in anxiety and uncertainty, there wasn't much time for you to come up with any excuse of your nighttime where abouts, you knew that much, and Eren or Sasha weren't going to straight up digest any profound lie you could come up with on the spot.

"Where did you wake up though?" Eren inquired sternly, yet his voice wasn't exactly authoritative as he waited for your answer.

"Outside my apartment door, I really don't remember anything up to that though."

"Don't scare us like that!" Sasha playfully punched your shoulder as she spoke with worried eyes. Her expression though quickly changed comically into fright as she finally scanned you up and down. "Just! Where is your jacket? It's freezing! Are you crazy?"

"I left it at that house yesterday. And my keys were in it." You muttered, averting your gaze away from Sasha.

"Stay here, I have a spare jacket in my bag, I'll go get it from Connie."

You nodded in response ignoring the fact that Sasha was already running away on her tracks upon the words leaving her lips. Quickly, you noticed as the expression of disapproval deformed off Eren's face, his lips curling upwards into into a soft smug.

He leaned close to you, bringing his face to the crook of your neck tilting his chin upwards so that his lips were almost brushing against your earlobe.

"I sure did leave you a nice mark yesterday huh? Don't flaunt it like that people will get jealous that im with you." A chuckle escaped him as he placed a quick kiss at the side of your neck. Eren's words were slowly shivering their way through your spine raising every single hair on your body.

When you realised what he was referring to your eyes widened, the tender spot of skin on your nape he had planted a kiss on burned in spreading hot blotches. Your stomach growled in protest to your feelings, threatening to spill once again as anxiety tied the organ in a numbing knot.

You shot a puzzled look at Eren -or rather at his back- but you weren't sure for what exactly. Your head was spinning, processing his spoken words unevenly in despairate efforts to put the pieces together. Was he aknowledging that you were together or was he sassing you over hickies he hadn't been the one to make?

And as oblivious as ever he only shot you a wide ear to ear grin. The cold winter air blew his long bangs to all directions across his face, his eyes squinting in happiness as he pulled back from your neck placing his palms over your shoulders. He didn't really seem like he even knew whether the marks on your neck were made by him.

"You know, maybe we should go out next Saturday alright?" He batted his eyes on you once again "No labels, just us buying Christmas gifts. Maybe Zeke could come as well."

Ah yes, Zeke. As if your problems weren't big enough already while you had to deal with the fact that you were most probably ruining Levi's life again with yesterday's actions, you also had to tolerate Christmas shopping with Eren and Zeke. When the fact that Eren would avoid the two of you being alone together in any date-like scenario was a given it was only on rare occasions your so proud and self proclaimed wingman stuck along with you.

In the back of your head you could always think about Levi and how much he disliked that you would sometimes hang out with Zeke, especially due to the fact that the two of you shared a sculpture class.

But why exactly were you thinking about that now?

Nevertheless you needed to stop your mind from running back to Levi for only a moment. The way he had abandoned you in his apartment all alone was cruel enough and as you looked at Eren, worrying your button lip between your front teeth, you contemplated on whether you deserved it.

You had gotten up on your wobbly feet only to maniacally search for your clothes all over his floor. Your jacket, long forgotten in his car to which of course you didn't have access, held your apartment keys. You had opted to just dress up with the clothes you had and walk the short distance to the campus; what could have possibly happened in a ten minute walk? You couldn't freeze your arms off in such a short period of time.

Admittedly, you had taken numerous walks without a jacket after midnight during wintertime, but the freezing morning breeze of December in Trost was something you wished you had never underestimated.

If you could, you would have Sasha slap you for not borrowing one of Levi's jackets but in your last hungover braincell's defense, you didn't want to cause him any more trouble. Of course you'd put him in enough trouble when you'd ask him for your jacket and keys, you couldn't possibly imagine to have to give him back a piece of clothing you had burrowed without asking.

You were positive he had come to hate you enough that he could set any cloth you wore on fire. Was he going to do the same to the bed covers, you wondered.

Naturally, your thoughts were cut short as Sasha approached you with a hooded sweater in her hands. As the brunette whined, out of breath you finally awknowledged Eren again; his hand was wrapped around your shoulders, providing momentarily warmth as he worriedly stared at your shivering jaw.

"You must be so cold." Sasha mouthed as she wrapped her own arms over Eren's around you. "I'm sorry I didn't have a spare jacket snd, Connie didn't either but Reiner did, he gave me this and he said he'd search for your jacket at their frat alright?"

You simply nodded, slightly closing your eyes in acceptance of her gesture. Your own frozen arms came to wrap around her waist as you pulled her close to you. "Thank you baby."

"Don't mention it. Reiner also gave me a jersey, they're both fleece, you should be warm enough."

Eren seemed to shift uncomfortably as you ripped Reiner's black hoodie off Sasha's grip, despairately speeding up your movements to wear the warmth providing piece of clothing over your form. His lips puckered momentarily as he pinched his nose in what looked like annoyance from the corner of your eye. Quickly though you caught his face falling into a smug expression once again as he eyed you.

"I'll say thanks to Reiner for you." Eren said, clicking his tongue while pinching his nose once again.

Once Eren strolled away, Sasha widened her eyes dropping her mouth in an unbelievable manner of disbelief. She sucked the underside of her mouth, propping her lower lip even further to exaggerate the comical effect of her expression. Not that you were one to judge, you stared back at her with the same look on your face as well, puzzled much by Eren's mixed signals. The two of you continued to stare back and forth at eachother for a few silent moments as your temples throbbed, despairate to process what had just happened.

"Is Eren jealous?" Sasha finally uttered, finally putting the situation into words. "What the actual fuck?"

"You know he told me to go Christmas shopping with him? As in going out?" Sasha's mouth formed into an 'o' as she stared at you, her eyes lingering at your lips awaiting for your next sentence. "And what do you know, then he even said no strings attached and that he'd invite Zeke as well."

"And now he's jealous of Reiner giving you his clothes?" Sasha furrowed her brows at this, earning a reluctant nod in response by you.

"I need to have a smoke, or else I can't process this." You sighed, avoiding Sasha's disapproving gaze at your statement. As your eyes scanned around the campus you spotted Erwin and Mike sat on a kiosk. A mischievous grin of relief creeped onto your face as you thought of how Erwin would never run low on tobacco. "Wanna go say hi to Erwin and Mike?"

Sasha simply nodded, opting to keep her lecture about the hazardous nature of smoking to herself. This would have to wait for another time; she knew better than to go against her hungover friends. Connie especially was a pain in the ass to deal with. Everyone knew that much thus compared to him, your need to have a smoke felt almost irrelevant.

"Erwin!" You rolled your eyes, your face squinting in pain as you plopped yourself next to the blond, your head quickly coming to rest on his shoulder "Tell me you've got much needed tobacco and filters."

"Sure I... Uh.. I do."

"Great," you sighed "please roll me one."

Even if you missed the way everyone's eyes widened at your sudden presence, Sasha certainly didn't. With a quick, shy look at Erwin, she apologetically averted her gaze to everyone in the kiosk; she nervously cleared her throat next, attempting to get your attention as subtly as possible yet, you still sat with your eyes closed, leaning on Erwin's shoulder. In a way Sasha felt sorry for what she was about to do, but you'd be thanking her forever once you had gotten yourself out of the situation.

"Hi Levi, Petra."

"Oi"

"Hi Sasha!"

Your eyes shot open in terror as you heard the exchange of words. Your head almost immediately shot up from Erwin's shoulder; of course, as Sasha had warned you with her greeting, Levi and Petra stood before you, eyeing you up and down in judgemental looks. Automatically you placed your fingers at the nape of your neck, ready to mingle with the skin there in an attempt to cover up the bruised skin from Petra, not thinking about whether your nervous actions easily gave you away.

"Uh... Hey you guys!" You spoke. The need to to bite your tongue off and swallow it so you could never mouth anything as awkward ever again hit you almost instantly. Awestruck by your awkwardness Levi and Petra only nodded in response, causing a long sigh to escape your lips.

You seriously didn't know why you had to go through this. All you wanted was to actually process last night in a quiet friendly environment and then maybe you'd attempt to think about Eren's weirdly awaken jealously. But as Levi's steely orbs burned holes in your form, wide enough to indicate he could might as well be seeing someone come back from the dead, you disposed of the fantasy. Of course he had to occupy your mind I'm such way that your heart burned brighter than your hungover headache.

No one around you could possibly know what the look you shared with Levi meant. As far as everyone was concerned last night hadn't happened, not in their timeline at least, but for you and the onyx haired man it was an inescapable reality. It was almost telepathic, the way you knew what he was trying to tell you with his steely gaze, as if he was answering the questions inside your head.

We need to talk about last night.

Nervously you averted your gaze to Erwin's hands and they brought the rolled cigarette to your lips, wordlessly asking for you to sip the edge of the rolling paper with some saliva from the tip of your tongue to activate the glue. Once he handed the cigarette to you, you shot up, putting weight on your now week knees. With one hand you put the cigarette between your lips, you took a drag as you carefully lit it up with the lighter Erwin handed you. You waved everyone goodbye, rubbing your palm on Mike's back, earning a small smile from the blond.

Great, now there was no way you'd ask for your jacket back. You'd have someone unlock your door for you. So much for saving yourself from such embarrassment.

...

Saturday came before you could even have time to decide what gift you wanted to get everybody. As per usual, you'd be spending Christmas at Erwin's; it had became a tradition in your group even before you and Levi had hit it off as a couple. Erwin was living all alone in a huge, very non college student budget-y apartment. His father had bought it for him before passing away and you as his dear friend group, had made an oath to never leave him lonely on Christmas.

Except for last year you'd usually you'd have dinner at Erwin's. Levi had always been strict on spending at least half of the day with his mother, therefore Erwin had always had Christmas scheduled. You'd visit him on the 23rd, making all preparations for Christmas dinner and Levi's cake, so that you wouldn't have much work when the big day would finally come.

Naturally, you'd open gifts at Erwin's, therefore you always dropped your presents for the group at his place when you'd buy them, although today you didn't think you'd be able to do so.

While you were almost done with buying presents, Zeke and Eren were spending way too much time pestering each other for what gift they'd buy to their father; at first they had set their eyes on an expensive silver watch. You had to admit it was a beautiful accessory, the way it shone under the bright lighting of the store's window seemed magnificent and just like you had told Eren, you approved of such gift for Grisha, one hundred percent.

And right about then, Zeke has decided to stir things up. You knew he was jealous of Eren's and Grisha's father and son relationship, but you had never guessed it could go to such mischievous extend on the blond's behalf. With a sour expression and a poison dripping mouth Zeke had expresed his utter disgust over the watch, claiming that this was not the right gift for their father and that they should settle for something more 'doctor-like'.

Their bickering had went on for about an hour before you had decided to excuse yourself from the jewelry store. Now, you stood sat on one of the comfortable futuristic benches in between the stores, scrolling maniacally through Instagram. It was such a slow Saturday and if you were to say you were bored it would only be an understatement; almost nobody had posted anything interesting enough to catch your attention, no new music was announced by your favorite artists, hell you even missed people posting a bunch of stories with their Christmas trees.

You almost ignored the tall, dark frame approaching you as you were deeply lost into your phone. Destiny's Child - 8 Days to Christmas repeatedly blasted in your ears as you continued to scroll, still ignorant to the figure beside you.

Your own little Christmas bubble world was cut absurdly as a hand came to wave between you and your phone screen. Your heart skipped a beat as you jumped on your spot, taken aback by the sudden action. Wide eyed and looking to your left you finally came to identify the man who had startled you.

Now that could be a cure to your boredom. Even if it wasn't the best possible option.

"Kenny?" You exhaled enthusiastically slipping your hand between your locks of (h/c) hair, reaching for the small black ear buds. "I'm so sorry I was wearing my headphones. What are you doing here?"

"Ahh just buying Kuchel's gift. You got me thinking you were trying to ignore me runt."

"I'd never, be-" You playfully punched his shoulder as he eyed you, a smirk appearing in his face quicker than you thought it would.

"Besides I'm your favorite uncle, right?" He spoke, completing your sentence. A deep sigh escaped his mouth as he rubbed his cold hands together, hoping to create enough friction to warm up his fingertips. "How long have you been waiting for the midget runt?"

You turned your dropping face away from his direction as the words fell off his mouth. Your heart gradually started throbbing inside your chest, the tight knot of anxiety was forming and coming undone in fragments of seconds as you stared at the white granite under your feet. Kenny must had taken a while to realise the chance of aura around you, a steady chuckle came out of him as he commented on Levi's meticulous routine of picking gifts for his friends.

"And why the long face?" Finally, he turned his attention to you "Did you have a fight?"

"Not exactly, we haven't fought in a long time." You admitted.

Kenny's gray eyes worried over you before squinting in another smiling manner. His palm came to playfully slap your upper back as he left out another loud chuckle of amusement. "I'm sure you two don't have many things to fight about. Kuchel is so enamored by that, how do you even manage with this brat (y/n)?"

"I don't... Not anymore at least."

Kenny's chuckle was cut short absurdly by your soft, mumbling voice. There was no way he hadn't heard what you had just said, he was just struggling to comprehend the context of your words. You claiming you weren't dealing with him anymore meant you weren't together anymore and Levi had deliberately kept this secret from him and Kuchel.

"Wait, you're not together? When did that happen?"

"Kenny" you paused, deciding to set your eyes onto him all while still avoiding his gaze. "It's almost been a year."

"What? Wait, why?"

"Levi and I, how do I put this in the shortest way possible, Kenny..." You sighed, bringing a finger to the side of your lips and biting the inside of your cheek as you tried your best to concentrate on your summing up skills. "He became distant, too engrossed with studying and shut himself off and I guess I just, I felt excited for something else. Levi felt excited for something else too."

That could make up for a quick summary, it could be enough to make Kenny understand the quick narration of you point of view. It was unnecessary to go into further details, such as how you had came closer with Eren throughout your group, or how Zeke had tried his best to convince you that he was right on the fact that Levi was growing more distant with each passing day, every time you'd open up to him about your problems.

More over, you couldn't possibly go into the lengths as to how quickly Levi had hit it off with Petra, proving Zeke's assumptions on the fact that maybe Levi was just tired of you.

"Shit. I'm sorry, if it helps, care to gossip on Levi's new item?" Kenny shifted his hands inside the pockets of his camel colored trench coat, rubbing circles on his upper thighs through the material of the pockets. "I'm dying to to know to what he moved on."

"Kenny! I don't do that!" You bit back and lowered your gaze as you instantly second guessed your statement. You contemplated on whether talking lowly about Petra is the right thing or not to do; she hadn't done anything wrong to you, she was just dating someone she liked while you were turning into their bitter, regretful ex. You couldn't possibly have the right to be jealous of her. But as you looked at Kenny's disapproving expression, you realised that maybe, just maybe, you were. "But I guess I'll show her to you!"

With a double tap your screen came to life, the familiar unlocking page bubbling as it urged you to fill your chosen password. Your fingers ran quickly on the familiar numbers; you've typed them one too many times already. You bit your lip in newfound anxiety as you awkwardly scrolled your social media folder, your fingers found the fuchsia camera icon automatically. With another tap your white Instagram homepage popped up, accommodating a picture of Mike and Nanaba's hands, each holding a carton cup. With a quick doubly tap you liked the picture and set your self the task of on swiping through the story icon features, quickly searching for Petra's familiar profile picture.

"Ah here you go." You finally spoke, breaking the silence as you found Petra's icon. Tapping on it once her newest story popped up. You set your finger on the screen again, keeping your tap locked in place to pause the flow of the story.

The picture depicted her standing before her mirror dressed in a white turtleneck layered with a powder blue plaid dress and topped with a black flap pocket woolen jacket. You could make the creative 'outfit of the day' mention on the bottom left corner, although you were unsure if Kenny cared enough about Petra's Saturday outfit. Plus, you didn't really need him to compare her sophisticated style to you.

"You know I can't really see her face, her phone is in the way."

You simply tapped over Petra's profile name as you sighed. Petra's feed appeared before your eyes, slowly loading all her highlights and posts. You gave your phone to Kenny next, deliberately choosing to look away and stay silent as he scrolled through the girls photos, curiously ogling at her for a few seconds.

"Ah runt," he spoke after sometime, his hands extending to give your phone back, "you ain't gonna stop being my favorite child, he'll come back around you know. He'll always love you, you have his heart and all that jazz."

Kenny tried his best to cut himself some slack from the awkwardness of the situation. Keyword; tried. As he sighed, his head spinner on what he could possibly say to you, he could exactly pinpoint if you needed to be reassured or comforted, or whether he was too late to be there for you.

There was something puzzling you, that was certainly written all over your face as you studied him. Your fingers were nervously mingling with eachother as you gripped on your phone, your hips shifting uncomfortably in the spot you sat. You were nervously thrusting around in your seat, that was much obvious to someone that knew you like Kenny did.

"He already did. But I'm not convinced he loves me, it's more like he has one more reason to hate me. We uhm we... You know, pfft, TMI Kenny, I'm sorry but I need to talk about this with someone."

"Shoot it!"

"We hooked up a well ago."

Oh shit, now that was new. Kenny's eyes widened in surprise as the words left your lips. His shifted himself enough to fully face you, his gray eyes worriedly meeting yours as you opened your mouth to explain. Words that were supposed to flow effortlessly ceased to exist as another, louder voice overshadowed your own.

"Zeke I swear I'll kill you if you- oh who's that (y/n)?"

You turned your head to the owner of the voice, your heart dropping the moment you met Eren's soft turquoise gaze. He stood there, clutching the small burgundy gift bag in his grip, as victorious smug adorned his features.

"Uh, finally you guys! This is Kenny Ackerman, he's," you paused, suddenly uncertain on how you should introduce Kenny to Eren and Zeke or whether you should introduce him to them at all.

"Levi's uncle." Kenny spoke, saving you from unnecessary fidgeting of information. He eyed Eren meticulously as his face slightly dropped in annoyance.

"I'm Eren Yeager, (y/n)'s friend and that's my brother, Zeke."

Eren smiled and extended his hand for a shake at Kenny's direction. Clicking his tongue, Kenny reluctantly gave his hand to the younger man before nodding knowingly in your direction. Eren didn't have to say anything else to prove Kenny he was halfheartedly trying to assert some dominance over you and although the older man tried his best to keep his laughter to himself, he got the message Eren was trying to convey.

Taking another breather to himself, Kenny picked his lips, allowing his face to fall into his usual stern expression.

"See you around (y/n)."

You laid on your couch, enthusiastically reading through a Greek epic you had burrowed from Hange a while back. Your hair dripped into the towel you had folded on the arm of the couch as you rested your head against it. You had wanted to slow down your thoughts before taking a change at blow drying your hair, there was a rage of overthinking going inside you that you refused to be left alone with.

You felt overly slow after your meeting with Kenny; the bath you had taken had done nothing to soothe down the wild nature of your thoughts, despite the fact that you had taken your time soaking in hot water and lavender oils.

The strangle fatigue you felt was feeling more indifferent with every passing second as you anxiously read bout Antigone's suicide, your heart was slowly being filled with grief as you though about her significant other, Heamon and how he could possibly react to her death. You were so enamored with the fact that Heamon was son to the king who had ordered Antigone's imprisonment that your eyes were ready to spill all the unshed tears that had gathered in the small corners of tender skin.

You set the epic down, burying your face between your palms as you let out a deep sigh. The air in the room felt heavy, you thought, thus you decided to get up from your couch and stroll around the room to reach for your hairbrush. Maybe now was the time to blow dry your head, your thoughts were completely off Kenny and Levi for the moment.

The sound of your doorbell startled you, though, making you freeze on your spot. You immediately unlocked your phone, hurriedly checking through your notifications for a sign on who it could be; it was rather unusual for someone to just visit you without having informed you about it beforehand.

Nontheless you marched over to the intercom, your finger shooting to press the metallic button to let your voice ring on the other side of the front door of your apartment building.

"It's Levi. I've got your jacket."

Panic run through you in throbbing waves. You simply stood there, feeling utterly and ridiculously puzzled with what you should do. You didn't know if you wanted to run down the front door and just grab the jacket on your own or if you just wanted to call Levi in. Grasping the situation seemed only fair, even in your panicked state you could admit you knew that much.

Your fingers immediately reached for the button underneath the one you were pressing causing a buzzing sound to ring through the intercom. You nervously opened your door and as on que, a few moments later Levi's frame emerged from the elevator doors, strolling to your direction, your black leather jacket neatly folded in his arms.

You wanted to speak, to greet him decently for once after all that time but you failed to find any prompt as to how to do that. Your mind felt at haze as you stared at him while he walked up to, the light from your apartment slowly illuminated his face more with every new step he took to its direction.

"Hey, sorry I came so suddenly, I'm on my way to the movies." He greeted, probing his head upwards to accentuate the action.

'Hey' you wanted to say, to establish some normal ground in your dynamics but still the words that left your mouth before you had enough time process what you wanted to say didn't exactly disappoint.

"Wanna come in?" The subtle look in your eyes as you fixated your orbs at his was at the very least, mesmerizing. If Levi was to describe it, he'd find himself quickly running out of sophisticatedly flavored academic words.

There was definitely a different kind of tention forming between the two of you. It was in the air, but whether it was caused by his own brain as he made the all too casual car ride to your place or by the way that you casually swayed your hair over your shoulder before prompting your head closer to him to speak up, he didn't know. All that he knew was that he was feelings his heart hammering in his chest as anxiety creeped in his stomach. The bold nature of his actions was having this profound effect on him and he'd be damned if he had to question himself one more time as to why he was in your doorstep now out of all times.

Still, your words somewhat lingered in his brain, despite almost falling deaf on his ears. His inability to pay attention to words was probably caused by his heart throbbing in his chest at witnessing this side of you.

"Sure" Levi found his mouth vomiting an answer.

You stepped aside, making room for him to entered the room as you gestured him to. Once he had walked in you closed the door behind you, your chest heaving in a despairately deep breath.

...

Did all kisses feel like that?

Your lips were soft and tender and tasting like burnt tobacco while Levi's were chapped dry and thus split, tinted in purple and tasting like dried blood. It was eeree to think about it, how it came to yours lips finding his once again or why it felt the way it did and why did it momentarily comfort you.

Your whole body was paralyzed with stress and agony; you couldn't move. The inability to speak caused by the burning guilt driven feeling inside your stomach was slowly taking a toll on how the rest of your internals liked to function. The efforts you were putting to regulate your breathing out of your nostrils were tainted and faint, as if not enough courage was laying underneath them and you hated it. You hated that your lungs were paralyzed like that under Levi's mouth on yours.

Maybe if you stopped existing or disappeared for just a moment everything would be normal when the next one came. Yet, things could never work like that and reality was always unforgiving to the actions you would decide to go for.

You still couldn't process how this had happened. One minute you were sat on your couch, angrily looking at each other as you spoke about how prohibited and dirty was what you had endulged in the previous week and the next your words had ceased to exist. His gray orbs had locked into yours, his breathing had quickened, much like yours, and your faces had been so close that your noses were almost touching.

You didn't know what had pushed you to act upon the tention in the air. Maybe it was your aching heart or Levi's eyes as they had begged you to kiss him. Now your own lips, in a similar way were begging him not to stop moving against yours.

Lost in your extravagant world of misery and heartache you didn't seem to realise that Levi's hand still hadn't left your cheek when you let out a long deep sigh escaped your mouth. Instantly though, with your brain acknowledging the moment and delving deeper into the reality of this situation, you jolted away, causing Levi to jump back on his tracks, as if he'd be electrocuted.

"Levi" you trailed off, softly mumbling the next words "I'm so sorry I did this, I should have known better."

Your heart was beyond hammering inside your chest; the cold dripping swear of anxiety had started to coat your palms and upper chest as he engulfed your lips again, this time much more gently. He gently tagged on your bottom lip, worrying it between his own lips. The mellow sounds of sucking filled the air as you tried to pull back, only to be attacked by his mouth every time.

Suddenly as you had just started melting under his hot touch on your waist, you heard what sounded as the most despicable sound that ever existed. Levi's phone buzzed in his pocket as it rang angrily, causing him to pull back from your face. The phone stopped ringing though, just before he could manage to swipe the answer button to the right, sending a huff of annoyance to leave him.

Petra's caller ID burned in his screen once again as his phone started ringing for the second time. This time, he hesitated to lick up. As he started at you apologetically his fingers trembled. He knew, eventually he would pick up the phone, judging by the time his phone read he was late to the very own screening he had decided to ask Petra to. Guilt formed in the back of his throat and he clicked his tongue to try and suck it up, even for a brief moment. With his finger on the acceptance button he turned to you again fixating his eyes at your bruised lips before he spoke.

"I have to go y/n I'm so sorry." He said and finally brought the phone to his ear. "Hey, I'm on my way, I had a mishap, I'll be there in ten, save a seat for me."

This all felt too familiar, once again you were forced into the third person's perspective, although this time you were fully aware of your intentions before and after the so called mishap.

"Listen, supposing you want this to work again we have to put an end to whatever else we have going on. I can't bear being the-"

"I know" he quickly cut you off, picking up his letter jacket from the pool it had formed around him as he hurriedly got up. "I'll call you alright? Have a good night." You blinked at him, not having enough time to utter a response as you watched him run to your door.

Your heart fell to your stomach as you stood frozen in your couch witnessing him exit your small apartment, not even bothering to look back.

You knew now that if Levi chose Petra your world was going to burn.

If you suffered along with my by reading one too many paragraphs in this chapter I'm sorry, thank you though for reading this fic in its entirety, please look forward to part 3 hehe, as always here are my tags: @ackermans-freedom-inc @sasageyowrites (my baby thank you for helping me SO much with this chapter I don't have enough words to explain how much I love you) @ladyofpandemonium @nobody-knows-anymore @levisbrat25 @papinaveensbitch @alrightberries

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman imagine #levi x reader #snk x reader #snk imagine #levi x reader imagine #aot #attack on titan #aot season 4 #snk season 4

174 notes · View notes

vancilocs · 3 years

Note

Carmina and möth girl bc i know youve got them in your mind and i wanna Know

im full of waffles

her name is naias'semele/semele now

1. Who is the most important person to your OC? Why are they so important?

Her youngest sister, the only one of her family she still talks to, they keep in contact via internet

Her mom, been a huge support through her recent tumultuous times, was instrumental in helping her transition, super supportive and loving

2. Is your character high status in terms of wealth or class?

Nah. She doesn't have to worry but doesn't live lavishly either

No, she's still new in town too

3. What’s a hobby or activity your OC can’t live without?

Needs to paint and go on walks every now and then or she'll go insane

Needs to catch up with friends, grab coffee or something, talk on the phone

4. Do they have an easy time connecting with people? Why or why not

Not really, she's very introverted and awkward, doesn't get sarcasm or jokes and struggles with eye contact, also she had a really rough time during her school years/ended up mostly homeschooled so that didn't make talking to people any easier

Yeah, she enjoys being at the bar and getting to know people, having a bit of a chat when getting them their drink, she has a warm and inviting presence so people like talking with her

5. Do they get along with their family?

Lol no

Yeah, mom especially but she keeps in touch with her dad, stepmom and siblings too

6. Which members of their family formed them the most as a child?

Mom and big sister mainly, catch her messing with sis's makeup and get in trouble

Mom, very close

7. Do they have any special interests or hobbies found weird by most?

People think her profession is a little off-putting in general but also collecting bugs? Weird

Ma'am stop eating fabric

9. Is your character religious? What religion do they practice? How intense is their worship?

She's catholic and worships very casually, mainly by decorating and giving gifts to her cats on Christmas

Not religious, was kinda casually raised to follow her homeland's main religion but nah. Not for her

10. Where are they from? Do they strongly identify of the culture of that area?

She's from Chile, near La Serena. Big fan of the regional wine and food and local music and art

She's from a möth plänet and she does miss the local delicacies and music and the environment in general, much less depressing than the Outer Rim

11. Weird question, but if your OC was given one of those Himalayan salt lamps, how often would they lick it?

She wouldn't

Often

12. How does your OC feel about worms?

Squiggly. They're not bugs but they're invertebrates so they're interesting to her. Knows many a worm fact.

Ew!

13. What’s your OC’s favorite season or holiday? Is their a particular memory tied to it?

Spring and summer, warm, light, nature is beautiful, so many bugs around. She would prop up an easel at a vineyard and paint the landscapes when she was younger

Spring and fall, not too hot, not too cold, nature is magnificent. Rain doesn't feel nice on her antennae though. Also she got married on spring so

14. If your OC could, would they go back in time and change their past actions? What action in particular?

Just don't tell people things they can use against you, don't be so gullible, just plenty of regrets of events where she got hurt or embarrassed

She often thinks if she should just have sold the bar and went back to her husband but honestly, no. She's feeling sexy and free as she is, she always hesitated to go on with the housewife life they had planned

15. Do they regret letting a particular person into their life? Why?

Her eldest sister's husband was a fiend and a bitch and is the reason she doesn't talk to any other family members but her youngest sister

She's parted ways with people before but nothing she really regrets, even if it ended the ride was fun

16. What’s their sexuality? Have they ever doubted it? Was it hard to come to terms with it?

She's a lesbian and a late bloomer, was in her mid-twenties when she came to the conclusion. It wasn't hard, more like a relief to know herself a bit better

She doesn't label her sexuality, heavily leans towards men/masculine presenting people but anything goes tbh

17. Does your OC have pride in their appearance? Or are they self conscious?

It was a long journey but she's fine with her looks, though if someone criticized something about her it would hurt. She knows her nose is big and eyes droopy, she knows her fingers are weird and long and she's too tall and lanky, she's okay with it, don't be a dick

She's happy with how she looks and takes good care of herself to keep her hair voluminous and scales soft and shiny, kinda self-conscious in the way that she always wants to look her best around people she doesn't know that well

19. If your OC played Minecraft, what would they be best at? Building, mining, red stone, anything.

Builds a house on creative, fills the yard with flowers, might take a screenshot to make a painting of the house but doesn't play any more

Tries to play for 20 minutes, gets blown up by a creeper, screams and stops playing

20. Does your OC have a love interest? Who said I love you first?

She's interested in Ivana, nervous if the interest is returned, preparing to be burned but sometimes you gotta try

No love interest right now, she's still separating from her husband. Took Damir to bed a few times because she was lonely and he's a whore.

#carmina is like.... 6'1''#she's a tall girl #and semele is a bit taller than damir so she's like... 207 cm i think #the antennae give her a bit more height #she brushes them so well after every shower so they're so fluffy #long oc thing

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nothingeverlost · 4 years

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The One You’re Born into and the One You Find (Marauder Era HP fic)

Thing I was not planning to do this week: write 10,000 words about Sirius Black. He’s an insistent muse, though, so a little drabble about him and Andromeda talking as now a full blown fic about the time Sirius ran away from home.

Summery: Sirius runs away and finds out something about home.

Warnings for references to abuse/torture.

It’s two days before Christmas when Sirius Black leaves Grimmauld Place for the last time. His first impulse is to go to the Potter home, but he can’t, not with his mother’s voice in his head, the threats and ugly things she’s said. He can’t risk that she might follow through with her promises. It’s not safe. Besides, James would owl Peter and Remus, and he needs to keep them safe too.

Perhaps it would be best to take a room above the Three Broomsticks, but after a week of cold silence from his family he can’t take any more isolation. There’s only one place he can think of to go.

“Sirius?” Warm light floods the front stoop when the door opens. In the doorway stands his cousin, the only person that might understand what it means to be a disinherited Black.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a sofa I could crash on for a day or two, would you ‘Dromeda?” They’ve barely talked in years; the last time was the summer before Fifth year when they both happened to be at Diagon Alley. He’d been with his friends, his parents not wanting to be seen with their son who was buying a new Gryffindor uniform, ‘Dromda with her husband. He’d been eight when she’d been struck off the family tree, but she would always be his favorite cousin. His only cousin, now.

“Nonsense. You’ll take the guest room. I hope your silencing charms are up to par; our Nymphadora is an early riser.” She holds the door open wide for him, enough so he can levitate his trunk into the house. He’s not sure about accepting the room, though.

“Mother is going to be angry if she finds out you took me in. I really only need a day or two so I can figure things out.” He needs a lot more than a couple of days but he wasn’t about to ask for more. It isn’t fair to her.

“Auntie has been angry with me for almost a decade now. I’m a blood traitor, after all. It doesn’t get much worse than marrying a muggle-born. You’ll stay as long as you need.” Andromeda doesn’t roll her eyes, she wouldn’t stoop to something so immature, but Sirius can almost see it anyway. “Now shut the door behind you and come into the kitchen. Ted is cleaning up but there’s plenty of leftovers and I’m sure you’re hungry. Left before dinner, didn’t you?”

“During, but I didn’t eat anything.” There had been company, people that made Sirius’s skin crawl. His father had spoken so casually of his son joining The Cause, only debating if he should wait to finish his education or begin during the coming summer. Perhaps, Orion Balck had speculated, his position in Gryffindor could end up being a blessing in disguise. No one would expect a Death Eater under the scarlet and gold robes.

“You’re in luck. Ted made his beef stew and it’s just the thing for a cold evening like this.” She doesn’t say, but they both understand, that ‘cold’ refers to more than the weather. “Ted, my love, we’ve company.”

“Cousin Sirius, what a treat. Welcome.” Sirius is surprised by the warm welcome and the following hug. Perhaps he shouldn’t be; Ted Tonks is a muggle and a Hufflepuff, after all, but the only person he knows who is so open is James.

“Do you mind reheating some of your stew, Ted? Siri hasn’t had dinner. I’ll put Dora to bed.”

“Her hair is pink.” Sirius has almost forgotten that there was a kid. His family doesn’t acknowledge the marriage let alone the child, and kids aren’t really his thing. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen a kid younger than eleven. Andromeda’s daughter is a lot smaller than a first year. Not as shy as they were either, as she climbs up on a chair to get a better look at the stranger in her house.

“Play?’ Sirius is pretty sure the tips of her hair darkened.

“Nymphadora, this is your cousin Sirius. You can play with him tomorrow but now it’s time for bed.”

“See-us.” The little girl wrinkles up her nose as she tests out the name. “See-e-us.”

“My friends call me Padfoot sometimes.” It might be easier to say. No one in his family considered easy names, it seemed. Not ever his cousin. Nymphadora, really?

“Padfoot play?” She spreads her arms and jumps, leaving Sirius with no choice but to catch her. She is a little thing, with less force than a bludger, but she squirms a lot.

“Tomorrow,” Andromeda says firmly, helping to free Sirius from arms that seemed to be longer than they should be. “I’ll be back down after storytime, Sirius. Don’t worry about your trunk, I’ll take it up to your room. Ted will show you where the drinks are. There might even be a bit of firewhiskey to add to the butterbeer.”

His mother would be horrified to see him eating in the kitchen like a common person or a house elf. The Tonks kitchen is a warm and comfortable room, though, and Sirius is glad to sit with Ted, who is keeping an eye on the cleaning charms. They share a drink and Sirius empties a bowl of stew and accepts the second helping Ted gives him It wasn’t like the food was bad at Grimmauld Place; it was the company that robbed him of his appetite. He is too used to laughter and teasing and camaraderie as he eats with his mates at school, and out of practice choking down food under his mother’s sour expression and his father’s ranting.

“I’m sorry to spring this on you, Ted.” He is halfway through his second bowl when he finally looks up at his companion. He doesn’t know much about the man, other than the fact he was muggle-born, a Hufflepuff, and married to his cousin.

“Nonsense, you’re family. It’s a rare treat for Andi to get to have family around. You know what it’s like.” Ted frowns.

“She’s lucky she got out when she did.” Just this past summer the engagement between Cisssa and Malfoy had been announced. The only good thing Sirius could say is that he wasn’t quite as disgusting as Bella’s husband. The talk of pure blood had gotten worse at family dinners and words like ‘cleanse’ and ‘purify’ were tossed around more. “They don’t bother you, do they?”

“Ignore us completely, which is probably for the best. It’s not easy on Andi when we run into any of them in public, though. We saw Narcissa when we were at Gringotts last and she wouldn’t even look at our Dora. I don’t think Bellatrix has even seen her.”

“Best to keep it that way. She’s gone mental. More mental than she used to be. And her husband…” Sirius bites his tongue to keep from saying more. He didn’t need to talk about Rabistan LeStrange. Didn’t need to think about him, or what he was capable of. One time alone with the man had been one time too many; he still had bruises on his arm from their ‘conversation’ three days ago. “If you’re lucky they’ll forget about you completely.”

“Your turn, Ted. Dora’s tucked in and ready for her story.” Sirius is almost done with his second bowl of stew when Andromeda comes down, turning off the water in the sink as the last of the dishes dry themselves. She settles into the seat her husband had occupied moments ago. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“What’s the point? It’s over and I’m never going back. I’ve probably been blasted off that damn tapestry already.” It had been his mother’s last threat as he’d left as if the worst thing that could happen was being disowned by the family that hated not only him but everything he cared about.

“Walking away from family isn’t that easy. I know.” For a moment she looks lost in memories before shaking her head.

“Family doesn’t…” Sirius clenches his hands around the edge of the table. He doesn’t talk about the things that happened in his home, not even to James. Andromeda would understand more than anyone else, but that doesn’t make it easier to speak. “They’re not my family. I have James and Remus and Peter.”

“You have me and Ted too.” Andromeda reaches across the table and covers one of his hands with her own. “It’s two more weeks until term starts. You’ll stay here and we can take you to the train.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying that long.” He hasn’t planned anything but thought perhaps he might be able to leave for school sooner. Hogwarts would be safe.

“You’re staying. It’s Christmas, Sirius. And if you’re worried about earning your keep you don’t have to worry. Dora will adore having a new friend and you can pay us back in imaginary tea parties.”

Exhausted, Sirius falls asleep almost the moment he turns off the light in the guest bedroom. It doesn’t last; a few hours later he comes awake abruptly, gasping his way out of a dream. He fumbles for his wand, casting a ‘Lumos’ as he sits up. He needs to be sure he doesn’t fall asleep again, not while the dream slithers inside his mind.

He barely noticed the bedroom when his cousin had escorted him up, beyond noting that his trunk was under the window. Everything he owned was in his trunk, and he only had that much because he’d never unpacked it when he’d gotten home for winter hols. He’d gone up, grabbed it and his broom, and had been heading for the front door before anyone could stop him. There hadn’t been any time to get Freddie, his owl, from the family owlery. He hoped his mother didn’t take out any of her anger on poor Freddie.

The room, now that he can focus better, is as different as it was possible to be from the bedroom he’d abandon hours ago. Instead of grey walls and antique furniture that had been passed down for generations, the walls were painted a pale yellow and the bed was new. The quilt he’d been sleeping under seemed handmade, a patchwork of mismatched colors that would never earn his mother’s approval. On the wall across from the bed is a painting of the shore, waves gently lapping at the sand. It reminds him of a trip he’d taken with the Potters the summer between fourth and fifth years; Remus had joined them as well, though Peter hadn’t been allowed to come. It wasn’t home - the only home he knew being his dorm at Hogwarts - but it was a cheerful and cozy space.

He hoped his presence didn’t make it an unsafe place. While his mother had been the loudest with her threats it was harder to guess what recourse his father might take. Or his father’s friends. He would run again if he needed to. Sirius resolved not to unpack his trunk in case any threats were made. If anyone in his family so much as sent an owl he’d be off.

It’s dark outside his bedroom window, enough that he can’t make out anything in the back garden. The moon wasn’t much more than a sliver, which was good. It would be two weeks until Remus would need him. If he was still with Andromeda and Ted by then he could make an excuse for going back to school early. Until then he would lie low and hope that his family decided he was no longer worth any of their time.

After an hour of trying to go back to sleep, Sirius transforms and curls up at the foot of the bed. Sometimes it is easier to sleep for a few hours as Padfoot; he would just have to hope his cousin didn’t ask about the black fur.

Someone is trying to suffocate him. His mouth is covered, his lungs straining for want of oxygen. He can hear Bella’s laughter and see the cold steel of his mother’s eyes. Behind her, Regulus looked ill.

“Ge-off,” Sirius struggles to open his mouth, to take in a breath, and almost chokes on a piece of bacon. He blinks and opens his eyes to find that he isn’t in Grimmauld Place. He’s in Andromeda’s guest room, and he is chewing on a piece of bacon.

“Breakfast.” Nymphadora’s hair is blue this morning and she is holding out a piece of bacon between two chubby fingers. “Welcome.”

“Thank you?” He can’t think of anything else to say. Waking up to find a kid staring at him is odd, but it was a million times better than anything that had happened the day before.

“Dora, where are you?” The door to the hallway is open; apparently the kid was old enough to open doors because Sirius had closed it the night before. He can’t sleep when a door is open, it felt too vulnerable. At home he locked the door, even knowing that wouldn’t really stop anyone. At school he was grateful for the curtains around the bed. Here the door was now open and Ted was coming in, shaking his head. “Sorry about that, mate. Did she wake you?”

“I’d rather be awake.” Memories weren’t quite as bad as dreams.

“Breakfast is ready if you’d like to join us, I promise you can eat at your own pace, and not worry about this little scamp trying to feed you more. You’re lucky it was just bacon. She might have decided you were thirsty.” Ted grins, an easy expression that reminds him a little of James. His best friend’s smile comes easily too. Sirius wonders if Ted’s parents were also as wonderful as the Potters.

“I’ll be down in a minute.” He’s only slept in his pants and waits until Ted had scooped up his daughter and taken her out of the room, closing the door behind him, before getting out of bed so he could dress.

Breakfast was as good as any meal he’d had at Hogwarts. Ted, apparently, did all the cooking in the family. His cousin had learned as much cooking as he had, which meant nothing at all. Pureblood snobs were supposed to have house elves to tend to their needs, rather than actually learning anything practical. Ted cooked the muggle way, and his scones were good enough that Sirius had three. He eats some bacon too, as well as quiche.

His plan for the day is to hole up in the guest room. It was Christmas Eve and he didn’t want to interfere with the holiday for his cousin’s family. Christmas wasn’t a big deal anyway; he loves the traditions he shares with his friends before the holidays but generally spent the day itself being miserable. Andromeda has other ideas.

Once breakfast is over and the dishes are put away she pulls out flour, butter, sugar, eggs, and a mass of sprinkles. Sirius somehow finds himself rolling out dough and cutting out cookies, often with the ‘help’ of Dora. Once the first batch cooled he is in charge of frosting while Dora added three times as many sprinkles as anyone would call normal. Somehow there was frosting in his hair and he is certain that his fingers would be red and green for longer than they were the last time he’d ‘accidentally’ snuck dye into James’s shampoo, but it is the most fun he’s had on a Christmas Eve in years. When he makes one of the frosted snowmen dance across the table Dora laughs and then viciously bites his head off. It was then that Andromeda decides it is time for Dora’s nap.

While Andromeda is putting her daughter down for a nap Sirius takes the opportunity to escape. No matter what they say Ted and Andromeda deserved to have at least part of the day to themselves, and he can use a walk. When staying with his parents long walks were about the only thing that kept him sane. The walls of his childhood home were oppressive on the best of days. Dangerous on the worst. His cousin’s house was nowhere near the old neighborhood where his parents live, but the moment he’s gone a few blocks from the house he realizes how exposed he is. If anyone sees him it wouldn’t be hard to make the connection to the Tonks family. On his own he doesn’t have anyone to watch his back and it would be easy enough for a couple of people to drag him home. Would his father have any interest in forcing him home? Making him bow and scrape, making him swear an oath of fidelity?

“I’m not going back there,” he swears to himself, walking faster. He looks at each alley he passes, half expecting to see someone he should fear, half looking for a plan of escape. All he would need was a moment out of sight; no one would know to look for Padfoot once he transformed.

“Sirius?” At the sound of his name he turns, wand already raised and a disarming spell on his lips.

“Thought that was you.” Frank Longbottom looks curiously at his wand but shrugs. “Don’t usually see you on this side of town, mate. Enjoying your holiday?”

“It’s alright. Just stopped by to see a friend,” he lies. Fortunately, he has a lot of practice at lying. Frank is a nice enough sort, a year ahead of him in school. Rumor was he was all set for the Auror program after graduation. That didn’t mean that Sirius was about to trust him completely. He didn’t trust anyone completely except the Mauraders.

“Alice lives around the corner. We had lunch with the family. Her dad has to warm to me eventually, or at least that’s the hope. Not so pleased about the half muggle status, that one.”

“Screw him,” Sirius growls with more force than he meant. He is so tired of the hate against muggle-borns, half muggles, and his most hated word, ‘half breeds.’ His father was of the opinion that the only good werewolf was either a dead one or a vicious pet, and had talked at length during Tuesday night’s dinner about a need for more regulations to protect against monsters. His father’s definition of a monster is very different from his own.

“It’s important to Alice.” Frank was so mild-mannered it was sometimes a surprise that he was a Gryffindor. Then again Pete was pretty affable too. He’d seen Frank’s reaction, though, when a Slytherin was scaring a first-year Hufflepuff. Frank hadn’t been mild-mannered then. “He’s not a bad bloke, just set in his ways. Not like, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Not like his family or the loony bin they kept marrying into. Still, he had no patience for any of it. It didn’t matter if he’d never met Mr. Fortesque, he already didn’t like the man.

They walk a bit farther, not talking of anything important until they reached a row of muggle shops and Sirius mentions stopping to pick out some gifts.

“A bit last minute, aren’t you Sirius?” Frank teases.

“Same way I get my essays done,” he says with a shrug. The truth is he spent as much time plotting his gifts as he did some of his most elaborate pranks, and he’d gotten gifts for his fellow Marauders before school had even started. Other than sending something to James’s parents they were the only gifts he had to worry about. Even in better days his parents had not held with gifts for Christmas. He’d be a prat if he didn’t at least have something under the tree for his cousins this year, though. Fortunately he still had some muggle money from a trip to muggle London he and James had gone on during the summer.

He returns to Andromeda’s an hour later with a cookbook for Ted by a muggle named Julia Childs that the shopkeep had assured him anyone who liked cooking would enjoy and a stuffed dog for the sprog. It was black and not unlike his own secret form, which amused him. His cousin was harder, but when he’d walked past an antique shop he’d found a little painting of an owl. It looked like the one Andromeda had when she was a girl; Sirius could remember visiting and seeing his cousin petting the bird, whispering to it softly. Bella had rolled her eyes. It was a muggle painting so it didn’t move, but Sirius thought Andromeda might at least appreciate the sentiment.

“Sirius Black what do you mean by vanishing for hours without even saying that you’re leaving?” Andromeda is every inch a Black when she appears in the hall just moments after he enters the house. Her jaw is firmly set, chin lifted at just the right angle to make it feel like she looked down her nose at him despite being half a head shorter. For a moment he is reminded of her mother, and then his own.

Shite.

“I thought you could use some time without an intruder around. Christmas Eve traditions and all that.” It had started snowing as he’d walked back from the shops. Sirius tries to distract himself by brushing the snow off one shoulder. Regulus had given him the same look that Andromeda was giving him now, just a few days ago when he’d said the only right side of any fight was standing against everything the family stood for.

“Great. Lovely. So I guess if my sister’s friends had seen you and decided to hex you into the new year it wouldn’t have mattered to me because at least I had a nice afternoon away from my ungrateful little cousin?” She glares at him in a way he hadn’t seen since he’d been seven and had used the essay she’d left in the study to make paper airplanes that had magically flown themselves.

“I wouldn’t tell anyone you let me stay here.” He’s had enough experience with Cruciatus to know that he would be able to keep at least that secret.

“You think that’s what concerns me?” she asks incredulously before her crossed arms fall to her side and she deflates. “Merlin, they did a number on us, didn’t they? Our family. Toujours pur but jamais fidèle. I was worried about you, Siri. You haven’t told me what happened but I know enough the guess. I’m not totally unaware of what’s happening with my sisters and their social circle.”

“I know how to take care of myself.” For a moment he hears the shadow of another argument, weeks earlier with Remus. They had been fighting about the full moon and returning to school early so they could be there for him. He tells himself it’s not the same thing.

“Of course you do. Another lesson we learned well.” Andromeda takes a step forward and brushes the snow off his other shoulder. “I know family is a pretty complicated word for both of us but you are my family Sirius. I care what happens to you.”

“Does it ever get easier?” He wants to ask if he would always hate them this much. If he would always carry around the hard ball of anger that sometimes threatened to choke him. Would he always feel the guilt in leaving Reggie behind, not even trying to stop him from becoming the son his father wanted? Would he ever stop mourning the family he never had? He has a hundred questions but doubts there are really any answers.

“I remember when I heard you’d been sorted into Griffindor. Auntie was so angry. There was talk of sending you to Durmstrang, but they decided against it because of the way it might look. The first time I saw you that winter you were in Zonko’s with your mate James, and you were laughing. I don’t know how you’d gotten permission to be there without your parents but you looked so happy. I knew then that the sorting hat had changed something that couldn’t be changed back. I think it’s already better. It doesn’t go away, we can’t change where we came from, but it’s better than what could have been.”

“I remember that trip. Mum thought the Potter connection could be useful.” The Potters were purebloods, and rich, but in every other way as different from the Blacks as it was possible to be. “You brought us ice creams after the joke shop.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to do that more often.”

“Mum would have hated knowing we spent any time together.” He’d missed his cousin, but there had always been an extra thrill knowing his mother would disapprove. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left without saying anything.”

“You’re wanted here, alright?” They don’t hug, not in their family, but Sirus has learned it from his mates and Andromeda from her husband. It is a quick hug, but heartfelt. Afterwards Sirius drops his packages off under the tree and finds that on the mantle there was now a fourth stocking, one with his name on it.

Christmas is a quiet day, or as quiet as it can be when a three-year-old has a newly acquired broom that hovers a foot off the floor. The stuffed dog he’s picked out, who somehow has been dubbed ‘Spot’ despite being solid black, has a place of honor on the broom and only falls off six times. The snow from the night before has left a fresh powder on the ground, and the afternoon is spent building a snowman that briefly joins them in an animated game of tag thanks to some clever wand work from Andromeda.

To say it is the best Christmas Day he’s ever had isn’t saying a lot, considering what Christmas is like in his family. It is more than a good Christmas, it is a good day. When he watches Dora feed her stuffed dog invisible hot chocolate he can’t help wondering what it would have been to grow up in a family that saw children as something other than an obligation to continue the family line.

“Would you care for a cup of chocolate that’s not invisible?” Andromeda asks once her daughter’s attention is drawn away from their ‘tea’ party. Ted is giving her hippogriff rides.

“Yeah.” He follows her into the kitchen, leaning against the counter while she melts a bar of Honeyduke’s finest into simmering milk. Moony would approve.

“I remember getting my first broom.” His hadn’t been a toy. His parents didn’t believe in toys.

“If memory serves you were six, and the first thing you did was try to stand up on it.” Andromeda laughs as she stirs the chocolate, adding vanilla and a pinch of salt.

“They locked it up for a month after that, until I could promise to be more respectful.” He’d only learned to be more careful, waiting until he was out of view before practicing loops and dives and quidditch moves. It had been his first taste of freedom.

“Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t met Ted. Would I have ever defied the family or would I just have accepted it as my lot? But I never wondered about you, Sirius. Worried, but never doubted that you were meant for something else.”

“You never would have stayed. You’re too good for them.”

The letter comes during breakfast on boxing day. Sirius is so focused on the red envelope that he doesn’t notice the owl at all. He’s been expecting at least a letter for three days now, and his only thought is to snatch the letter and get up to his room before it explodes in his mother’s amplified and shrill voice. No one else needs to hear the hate in her voice.

He is too slow, or the letter is faster than usual. He’s barely taken it from the owl and stood from his chair when it begins to shake. It grows in size, shaking and looking like a firework about to explode before it bursts open.

SIRIUS ORION BLACK YOU GREAT GIT WHERE THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU?

It takes Sirius a moment to realize that the shooting that fills the small kitchen is not his mother, but his best friend.

YOU HAVE NOT ANSWERED MY OWLS FOR THREE DAYS. I EVEN TRIED FLOOING TO YOUR HOUSE BUT THAT CREEPY HOUSE ELF OF YOUR MOTHER’S ONLY SAID THAT HER MISTRESS HAD GOTTEN RID OF YOU. I’M WORRIED PADFOOT. MUM AND DAD ARE WORRIED. RUMUS SENT ME AN OWL BECAUSE HE THOUGHT MAYBE WE SHOULD TRY GOING TO YOUR HOUSE TO SEE YOU.

“No.” Sirius stares in horror at the envelope as if it can hear him. Remus can’t go anywhere near Grimmauld Place. He’s only let James come once and that was bad enough but at least James comes from a wizarding family almost as old as the Blacks.

RUMUS IS STRESSED ABOUT YOU AND YOU KNOW WHAT HE’S LIKE WHEN HE’S STRESSED. IF WE DON’T HERE FROM YOU IN AN HOUR I AM SENDING HIM AN OWL BACK AND WE ARE GOING TO MAKE A PLAN.

A moment later the howler tears itself to pieces, the confetti burning like ash. The only thing left was the echo in his ears.

“I can’t let Remus go to Grimmauld Place.” He looks at Andromeda.

“Bloody git.” Dora waves a bit of pancake around on the end of her fork, apparently amused by the howler. “Great bloody git.”

“Those are not words for little girls, my love. They’re words for grown-ups who have to deal with problems.” Ted reaches over and picks Dora up from her seat, balancing her on his knee and distracting her with a floating grape. Sirius knows he should probably apologize, but all he can think about is Remus showing up at his parents’ door and them somehow seeing in an instant what it took him two years to figure out.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for any of your friends, but at least if they’re looking for you it rules them out as anyone who knows where you are. It might protect them in the long run.” Andromeda stirs her tea carefully. “Remus is the quieter lad, isn’t he? The one with the nice manners.”

Sirius nods, afraid to open his mouth and say anything about Remus, afraid he might say too much and spill secrets that aren’t his to tell. It has taken months to recover from the Snape Incident. All he knows is that he has to stop any of his friends, but Remus especially, from confronting his parents. The things the Black Family would do if they knew they had a werewolf in their home were unspeakable. “I need to borrow your floo.”

“The floo powder is on the mantle where the stockings were. You’ll let me know if you’re not home for dinner, won’t you?” Sirius nods his promise.

“Your friends are welcome to tea. We’re having bangers and mash,” Ted adds supportively as Sirius carries his dishes to the sink.

“Padfoot play?” Dora asks as he leaves the kitchen. He hopes she won’t be too upset that he’s ignored her request.

A minute later he is in the Potters’ library, startling Fleamont Potter from his post-breakfast nap. A newspaper half covers his face but he pushes it away as he sits up. “Sirius my lad, what a relief. James will feel so much better when he sees you. Last I checked he was pacing the front hall.”

“I’ll go find him.” At least he hadn’t dashed off and done anything stupid; that was Sirius’s job. He doesn’t have far to go far; after walking through the library door he is tackled and might have fallen if he wasn’t so used to the surprise attacks of James Potter. This one involved a hug he couldn’t have escaped if he wanted to. He doesn’t want to.

“If I wasn’t so happy to see you Padfoot I’d punch you and then lock you in a small dark room. Where have you been?” James’ hair was messier than usual, standing on end where he tugged on it when he was nervous or frustrated. The fact that he was wearing shoes was alarming; when he was at home his feet were always bare, so he really was planning on going somewhere. Sirius hates thinking about where that place might have been.

“I’m alright, Prongs.” There is no person on the entire earth that he trusts more than James Potter. His reluctance to mention his cousin was not out of worry.

“Not one peep yesterday from you. Even first year you popped in to say Merry Christmas and last year you came for almost two hours after you got yourself kicked out of dinner. I kept my mirror with me all day yesterday and nothing from you. When I popped into your kitchen the house-elf said…”

“I left.” He shrugs as if it doesn’t mean anything.

“What do you mean, you left? Left the house on Christmas? Can’t imagine that made your mum happy.”

“I left a couple of days ago, actually, and I don’t give a toss what my mother thinks.” He looks down at his shoes, noticing that there was a scuff mark on the left one. “I’m not going back there.”

“What did they do?” His best friend’s voice sounds like fire. Sirius knows that James would go to war against the whole Black family without a single hesitation if he thought that they had hurt Sirius. It is the reason he keeps the worst stories to himself, to protect James. Remus knows more, whispered confidences in the black of night when neither of them can sleep. After all, Remus has his own monsters and knows something about enemies being bred into your blood.

“I’m not going to be one of them, and hate who they tell me to hate, and fight who they tell me to fight.” Rudolphus and Bella have matching tattoos on their arm. At first he’d thought they were a warped couple sort of thing, but then he’d seen the same mark on Narcissa’s finance, and the slithering edge of black ink on his father’s arm when his sleeve hitched up a little.

“Of course you’re not.” James smiles a little, just for a moment, before the smile fades. “Hold up, you said days ago. Where have you been since you left? Pete would have said if you’d been at his place and I know you haven’t seen Remus. Please tell me you haven’t done anything naff like sleep on a bench or take a room at Three Broomsticks.”

“I need to lie low for a bit. I am somewhere safe, I promise.” His mother’s threats ring in his ear, promising that no one that dared offer him sanctuary would be safe.

“You’re safe here.” James snakes a hand around his wrist, dragging him towards the back of the house. “Mum,” he shouts.

“It’s not about my safety.” When the kitchen proves empty James pulls him to the backdoor, through the snowy yard to the greenhouse that is always warm and humid no matter the weather. In the center of the space is a pond where lotus float. Euphemia Potter is kneeling beside her herb bed.

“Mum, Sirius showed up finally and he’s run away from home so he needs a place to stay. He can have the room next to mine, right? Dad can figure out how to handle the guardian stuff so you can sign his school papers and..”

“Prongs, stop. I just came so you didn’t do anything stupid like go to Grimmauld Place. I’m not staying.”

“Don’t be stupid, Pads, of course you’re staying. Right mum?”

“This is always your home, Sirius.” She stands with a grace that his own mother would never be able to emulate, no matter how many centuries of ‘good breeding’ have gone into molding her. Deep purple and gold robes flow around her. Indoors she’s just as apt as her son to have bare feet, but in the garden she wears leather sandals. “Monty and I have been worried about you, dear. It’s good to see that you’re safe.”

“I’m sorry for making you worry.” The last thing he wants to do is worry his friends or the Potters who are always so kind to him. Without the Potters he wouldn’t know what a real family is supposed to look like, or how lacking his own family really was.

“A mother always worries about her children.” When she touches his arm Sirius has to fight to remain stoic, torn between the wanting to break down and wanting to make a bitter comment that some mothers want nothing more than to eat their own young.

“See, Pads? Mum said you’re staying. Dad will agree and that’s everything sorted. The family barrister can send papers to your…”

“No.” If he lets himself listen to any more it will sound too much like a dream and not having it will hurt all the more. “You’re not listening to me, Jamie. I will see you in two weeks when we go back for term. I need you to let Remus know that I’m safe and that he’s not to go to my parents’ house under any circumstances ever. Let him know that I’ll be at school on Wednesday morning like I promised, okay?”

“Tell him yourself, Pads. You haven’t forgotten how to write a letter in the last week have you?” James stands between him and the door to the greenhouse, arms crossed and ready for a fight. “No, but I don’t have a way to send a letter. I couldn’t bring Freddie with me when I left.” Damn it, he misses his owl. It is the least of his problems, and it’sjust a stupid owl that he ignores too often when he is at school, but when he is home visiting the owlery is often the only good part of his day. No one in his family would deign to sit amoung the birds.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” James sighs. “I’ll write Remus, okay? Or you write to him and use one of our owls. He’s sent me three letters since yesterday and seeing the scrawl you call penmanship would probably do him good.”

“I’ll write to him before I go, alright?”

“Sure, as long as you mean that you’re going to go get your trunk so you can bring it back here. I was thinking we could transform the closet between our rooms into a lounge, maybe with a foosball table or something. Mum’s brill at things like that.”

“Damn it, Prongs, you’re not listening to me.”

“I’m listening, I’m just ignoring you being a dense pratt. This is your home.”

“My mother…”

“Your mother is a miserable bitch and you’re well rid of her. You can share my mum with me, she always wanted more kids and she and dad both love you.” James speaks with the confidence of someone who has always been certain of his place.

“You don’t understand, James. The things she would do if she found out you’d taken me in. The things she might set in motion. My family is full of fucking Death Eaters. My cousin...” But he doesn’t want to think about Bella and what she could do. What she’d hinted that she’d already done, the snake of her tattoo slithering around her wrist. He knew what she could do to someone she wanted as an ally, the echo of pain still in his bones as she tried to make him agree. The war was coming so much quicker than he’d realized. He would protect the people he cared about as long as he could.

“We keep each other safe, just like we’ve always done, Pads.”

“This isn’t trying to get out of detention when a prank goes wrong. I’m not going to risk any of my family coming after the people I care about.” He could still see, too clearly, the look in Moony’s eyes when he realized how close he’d come to attacking Snape on a full moon. If anything had happens Remus would be the one to suffer and it would have been his fault. He couldn’t let it be his fault again.

“So instead I’m supposed to just stand by and hope you’re okay? Do you know what it would do to me if anything happened to you?” James tugs on his hair.

“I’ll see you in two weeks, alright?”

“Padfoot…”

“It’s better if you don’t know where I am.” He’s been seventeen for almost two months, but won’t take his apparating test until spring like any other student. That doesn’t stop him from disapparating, but it did mean that he is a block away from Andromeda’s, instead of in her backyard, when he reappeared. It takes him a moment to get his bearings and to find his way to the house. By the time he does he’s shaking, and collapses on the back porch, using the last of his energy to change into Padfoot.

“Puppy.” He wakes to find Dora stroking his fur enthusiastically, Ted and Andromeda watching with varying looks of caution and amusement. Because it seems like the simplest option he spends an hour fetching sticks and racing through the snow, decimating the snowman they had made the day before and chomping on snowballs. When a cat crosses the back fence he doesn’t resist the urge to chase it; James has often remarked that if they ever came across McGonagall in her animagi form there would be some serious explaining to do. Chasing professors was not a good idea even if they were a cat at the time.

When it starts to get dark outside Ted tries to lure him in with the promise of something to eat, but he refuses. As tempting as it is to see if they would talk about him in his absence, it wasn’t fair and Andromeda would worry if he wasn’t back for tea. He’d promised, after all. Sirius slinks around the corner, waiting until he is sure everyone is inside the house before turning back. His jeans are soaked and his mouth is freezing from the snow he’s eaten, but an hour of running around and a nap have done him some good. He is able to walk into the house without feeling like the world is completely falling apart.

“Anyone with you?” Ted asks, poking his head out of the kitchen. Sirius shakes his head.

“Padfoot play?” Dora asks, her hair the same black color as his own. She’d changed it when they were playing outside, ironically wanting to match the dog.

“It’s bathtime, remember? And I’m sure Sirius is wanting a hot shower, considering the look of him.” Andromeda gives him the same speculative look she’d given a dog an hour ago until she was convinced that her daughter was safe playing with the mutt. “Your friend’s alright?”

“I think he’s mad at me.” James wasn’t mad, not really, but it was easier than saying that he was hurt by the secrets he wouldn’t share. He and James shared almost everything. “I’m going to go take that shower now.”

“I’ll let Ted know to start a kettle; you look like you could use some warming up from the inside too.”

The next morning he lets himself sleep in, and is still in his pajamas just before noon, making himself a bacon sandwich with leftovers from the breakfast he’d skipped. He’s just taken his first bite when someone knocks on the front door and Ted calls for him.

“See? I told you this was the logical place.” When Ted steps back Sirius can see a grinning James Potter in the doorway, a Gryffindor scarf wrapped around his neck. Beside him is Remus, not dressed nearly warm enough for the day. Crowded on the back of the porch is Peter.

“Yes, but ‘Padfoot’ and ‘logical’ aren’t usually things we say together.” Moony has a crease line between his eyebrows, looking Sirius over. He tries to smile, but it is a small one, his attempt at a joke falling flat. Sirius can almost feel the worry vibrating from him.

“If Sirius is trying to lay low maybe we shouldn’t be standing out here where anyone can see us?” From the way James steps forward suddenly it was clear that Pete had given him a friendly shove. Ted is smart enough to take a couple of steps backward, clearing the way for three-fourths of the Marauders to invade his home.

Sirius says the only thing that came to mind. “What the fuck?”

“I sent an owl to Remus. He agrees you’re being stupid.” James aims a drying spell at his feet.

“That’s not what I said, Prong. Don’t put words in my mouth.” The gloves Remus takes off look new, probably a Christmas gift from his parents. They were practical souls, and most of Moony’s gifts from them are the sort of things that Sirius takes for granted. He knows that new quills and gloves are not so easy to come by in the Lupin household, though. “I said I didn’t like the idea of you without anyone to watch your back.”

“I agreed with James about you being a git.” Peter grins. Ted closes the door behind him.

“Gee, thanks Pete.”

“You’re Ted, right? Nice to meet you. I’m James and I’m just here to relieve you of this annoying houseguest of yours. His bedroom is all ready for him.” James shakes Ted’s hand when it’s offered.

“Sorry about the invasion, Mr. Tonks, only Sirius does seem to need reminding about a promise he made. We’ll be out of your hair once we knock some sense into him.” Remus looks at him very carefully, and Sirius can almost read his mind. He can see the bonfire they’d had the first summer they’d been together, could hear the vow they’d made to always have each other’s backs. Marauders forever.

“Stay as long as you like, boys. I have some biscuits in the oven that will be ready in a little while, so when you’re ready come down for a snack,” Ted offers as he shakes hands with Remus and then Peter.

“Fresh baked biscuits? Maybe Padfoot does know what he’s on about, staying here.” Peter licked his lips. He’d been the one, second year, to figure out the secret of the ticklish pear that lead into the kitchens. The house elves loved him.

“I’ll take this lot upstairs so we don’t bother you.” He gives his friends a pointed look and heads up the stairs, trying not to think about the fact that the bedroom he’d been using suddenly feels so much more like home when all four of them are crowded inside. Remus is the one to cast a silencing charm, meaning he doesn’t have to keep his voice down when he speaks. “Damn it, Prongs, what part of our conversation yesterday didn’t you understand?”

“The part where you seemed to suddenly forget the last six years and think you’re a lone wolf like that prat first year who wouldn’t talk to anyone for the first week of school. No offense meant, Remus.”

“None taken,” Remus shrugs, sitting down on the trunk under the window. Peter has already sprawled out on the bed. James was pacing, like he often did when he was plotting a prank or coming up with wild schemes to get Evans to date him.

“It’s not the same.” He’d been terrified that first week after the hat had sorted him into what he’d considered the wrong house. His mother had sent him three howlers the first two days, and he knew that Dumbledore had gotten a howler as well. He’d never asked McGonagall if she’d gotten one; it was too embarrassing to even contemplate. He hadn’t wanted to get to know the boys he shared a room with, not when he was going to be moved in a matter of days. Surely someone would realize that he couldn’t be a Griffindor. Blacks were always in Slytherin.

He’d been scared of his family then, and he was scared of his family now. Maybe it wasn’t so different, but the threat of his family was worse than it had been six years ago, or maybe he was finally understanding just what the Black name meant. “It‘s not safe.”

“Neither was spending two years learning to be an animagus so you could spend full moons chasing after a werewolf.” Remus rubs a scar on his forearm that Sirius swears is fading a little every year. The fact that he hadn’t gotten a new scar in over a year is a victory that Sirius privately celebrated every morning after a moon.

“That’s different.”

“How?” Remus stares at him until he has to look away.

“So Wormy, how long do you think we can hang around the Tonks place before they kick us all out?” James plonks down on the bed.

“Well they’ve already put up with Padfoot for four or five days so their tolerance is pretty high. Might be able to stretch it a couple of days. A week at least if we find some chores to help with. Longer if everyone remembers to shower.” Peter glances at the door. “You think those biscuits are ready?”

“We could go check and let the man of the house know we’ll be crashing here for a bit.” James heads for the door, breaking the silencing charm as he opens it. Peter is swift to follow.

“Moony.” Sirius looks at him, hoping that he at least will understand. Moony, he thinks, understands what’s coming with the war more than the rest of the group. He knows at least some of what a family like the Blacks can do.

“We’re not leaving you alone, Sirius, no matter the risk. You’re ours.” Remus squeezes his hand as they stand in the doorway. “It’s going to be okay, Pads. We’ll figure this out the way we always do. Together.”

Sirius thinks maybe he’d like to stand in the doorway for a while, the warmth of Moony’s hand in his, but everyone else is downstairs and he still has to find a way to convince them all to go home.

“Puppy?” After she is done with her biscuit Dora slides off her chair and runs to the kitchen door.

“We can look, love.” Ted follows her, opening the door to reveal an empty back porch.

“No puppy,” Dora sighs, her lower lip sticking out. “Want puppy.”

“There was a stray dog in the yard yesterday. Dora quite enjoyed playing with him,” Andromeda explains to the boys at the table. “It was quite funny, actually. Sirius got her a stuffed animal for Christmas and the dog that showed up looked almost the same.”

“Black dogs are common enough,” Sirius comments, shooting a look across the table at James.

“Probably just a mutt,” Peter supplies helpfully, wincing when Sirius kicks him under the table.

“He’s probably in the doghouse now,” Remus arches one eyebrow as he looked sideways at Sirius. “He might not be very good at listening.”

“I hope he has a good home. He seemed to be such a nice dog.” Ted lures his daughter back to the table with another biscuit. She decides that Remus’s lap is where she wants to sit while eating it, and tugs at his sleeve until he picks her up.

“I’m sure he’s found a very nice home. Most dogs are clever enough to go where they know they’re loved.” James is smiling, most people might think he is making an idle comment but Sirius knows that look in his eyes. He was not playing fair.

“Maybe he’s not looking for a home right now, but is wandering for a bit.” Sirius looks across the table at James pointedly.

“He looked too well fed to be homeless, and despite the lack of collar he certainly wasn’t a matt. He had good pedigree, you could tell that by looking.” Andromeda, of course, has no idea of the second conversation that is happening right in front of her. Her comment is enough to makes James choke on his biscuit, though.

“He had pedigree, Sirius.”

“Sod off, Prongs.” He was going to give away at least one of their secrets if he wasn’t careful. Andromeda is clever, and while she’d been out of the family for years she’d been raised on subterfuge and lies.

“Prongs,” Dora repeats. Sirius is just glad that’s the part she has decided to mimic.

“We call him that because his head is pointed,” Sirius grouces. “Not much room for a brain up there.

“I got just as many OWLS as you did, you berk,” James fired back. It had been a matter of great amusement, the year before, that their score on their OWLS had been exactly the same. Peter had nearly tied them, but was short by one O. Remus had beat them all, of course, practically acing his exams. Only his potions score kept him from being perfect.

“I was having an off day.” He can’t keep from grinning, for a moment forgetting everything else as he slips into the familiar patter of fake insults. Almost two weeks without his friends has been a lonely experience.

“I swear I can’t take you two anywhere.” Remus rolls his eyes, breaking off a bit of his biscuit for the little girl on his lap. She seems enthralled with him, her dark hair lightening into an auburn. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Tonks, I’d say that they’re not always this bad but my mum taught me not to lie.”

“It’s Andromeda, please, and it’s good to see that Sirius has such support.”

“Whether he wants it or not.” James leans back in his chair and looks at the back door that leads to the yard. Sirius doesn’t like the look in his eye; his best mate is plotting something. “Speaking of, you don’t mind if we borrow a bit of your yard, do you? My parents have a tent we could borrow, don’t take up much space. We wouldn’t want to impose, and we can manage all our own food.”

“You’re not staying here.” For effect Sirius throws half of his biscuit at James’s head.

“Good, then you’ve decided to come home with me.” James calmly catches the treat and pops it in his mouth.

“James.”

“If you think this is the safest place of you then it’s safe enough for all of us,” Remus points out calmly. Sirius bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. He can’t argue the point without making it sound like he’s willing to put his cousin’s family in danger. He looks over at Andromeda, willing her to say something to derail the current conversation.

“I think a camp out in the backyard sounds like fun.” Sirius stares at her in shock. Damn it, that wasn’t what he was expecting.

“I’m sure they’re hoping you’ll join them.” Sirius looks away from the window, pretending he hasn’t been staring at the shadows around the campfire in the backyard. It’s dark enough that he can’t see much of their faces, but his mates are all sitting outside the tent and drinking bottles of butterbeer.

“They should be at home.” Remus actually enjoys spending time with his parents, and Peter seems happy enough to go home for the hols. James has the best parents it’s possible to have.

“They don’t seem to agree with you.” Andromeda sits on the edge of his trunk, her leg not quite touching his. “Ted wanted to come with me when I told mum and dad about being engaged. I wouldn’t let him, couldn’t trust that they wouldn’t lash out at him.”

“So you get it.” Their family is capable of a great measure of cruelty.

“I understand the fear and the desire to protect. I also know that the first place I went after I told them was to Ted’s flat and I didn’t leave for three days straight. I couldn’t bear to have him out of my sight. The first time I saw my sisters and they walked past me as if I didn’t exist he was the one that was holding my hand. When the only family member at my wedding was Uncle Alphard Ted promised that he would be my family until the day he died.”

“They’ve been my family since my first year at Hogwarts.” James was the first person to make him laugh, nine days into first term. Peter had snuck him food when the idea of going to dinner and facing a whole table of Slytherins whispering about him had been too much to handle. And Remus, who he’d judged as quiet and odd had hexed his cousin when she’d made a cruel comment in the hall. Since then they’d proven themselves a thousand times, while his blood family had only been belittling and hateful. “That’s why I have to protect them.”

“It seems like they have the same idea regarding you.” Andromeda looks out the window where the fire seems to be dwindling. The tent flap is open, a light burning inside. Last summer they’d taken the tent to the Quidditch World Cup. It had been brilliant. He and his friends had slept in bunk beds in one room while James’s parents had the second bedroom. Euphemia had painted mehndi designs on their hands that swirled in gold and green, proud that India had made it to the finals. Even Fleamont, who was secretly rooting for England, wore mehndi on his hands. “Something’s coming, Siri, and I know that’s frightening and it’s going to get bad. But I also know that turning our backs on everything good in our lives is exactly what the Black family would like to see. Your mother wants you to think you’re alone. To think that the only option you have is to be one of them.”

“I’ll never be one of them,” he swears fiercely.

“Of course you won’t.” Andromeda is full of surprises today; she kisses him on the forehead the same way he’s seen her kiss her daughter at bedtime, then gestures to the door. “You’re welcome here anytime you want, Sirius, but I think there’s somewhere else you’re supposed to be right now.”

“Yeah.” He’s not sure if this feeling of worry in his belly will ever leave him, or how long he’ll look over his shoulder for a member of his family. But maybe he can protect the people that matter better by being with them.

Tomorrow he’ll worry about his trunk. For now he heads down the stairs and out of the house to find that the fire has been dowsed with snow but the tent flap is still open. He closes it behind him, following the sound of talking to the same bedroom he’s used before.

“It’s about time.” James is on the top of one bunk, the bed beneath him empty but made up with blankets and a pillow.

“We saved you some chocolate.” Remus has the other bottom bunk; he’s never been fond of heights, not even something as mild as a top bunk. Flying classes first year had been miserable for him. He points to the chocolate frog on the pillow next to a bottle of butterbeer.

“My feet are freezing.” Peter is pointing helplessly at his feet with his wand, but he’s never been very good at warming charms.

“That’s what happens when you have a campout in the snow.” Sirius finds warming charms easy, probably because he’s used them on Remus often enough. He’s always cold the morning after a moon. He helps out his friend, who grins down at him.

“Does this mean you’re done being a stubborn git?” James asks, hanging over the edge of the bed, his hair even more wild then usual thanks to the assist from gravity.

“It means I’ve accepted my doomed future of having to share a bathroom with you for all eternity, knowing you steal my shampoo and shed hair all over the place.” He catches the chocolate frog before it can hop away, viciously biting off a back leg.

“Good, because the kidnapping plan had a few snags in it and this is so much easier. Mum said she’d make a cake to celebrate and anything you want for dinner. Dad says not to worry about anything, he’s already talked to Dumbledore about the change in address. This is going to be brill.” James’ excitement was infectious, and despite his worry Sirius couldn’t help grinning back. No one had ever been excited to have him come home before.

James falls asleep as quickly as he does everything else, and within minutes there’s a soft snoring coming from above him. Peter had fallen asleep almost the moment his feet warmed up. Sirius rarely found sleep easy unless he’d completely physically exhausted himself first. He’s just about to contemplate turning into Padfoot, which sometimes helps, when there’s a whisper from his left side.

“I’m glad you don’t have to go back there, Pads. I’ve always dreaded holidays knowing you had a home like that.” Remus speaks softly but Sirius can hear the concern in his voice.

“It hasn’t been home for a long time. Maybe it never was.” He’s never been wanted by his parents, not in the way Euphemia and Monty so desperately wanted a son. He was an asset, like a land holding or the contents of the family vault, only with less value. “But it’s over now. I’m never going to see my family again.”

“You see your family every day, Pads. We’re right here.”

“Yeah, you are.” It didn’t matter if it was a tent, or a dorm room, or the guest room at the Potters that was secretly being redecorated to welcome him. It didn’t matter if the blood in their veins wasn’t the same. He had his family and his home, and hadn’t lost any of it when he’d walked away from Grimmauld Place. “G’night Moony.”

“Night Padfoot. Sweet dreams.”

Sirius doesn’t remember his dreams the next day, but he wakes up feeling rested and more relaxed than he’s felt in months.

“Your cousin has invited us all for breakfast before we go home.” James is already dressed and using a charm to clean his glasses.

“Good, I’m famished.” He dresses quickly, joining his friends as they dash across the yard, dodging snowballs that they levitate at each other. The kitchen smells like cinnamon and chocolate, and as they eat breakfast they make plans to come back for Sunday dinner. His mother can’t forbid him from spending time with his cousin now, and he’d like to get to know Ted better too.

Monty and Euphemia are waiting for them when they get home, welcoming him with hugs and a meal comprised of all his favorite foods. Remus and Peter stay for the first couple of days, the four of them taking shifts to make sure nothing happens. Other than a howler from his mother all is silent on the Black front. He almost doesn’t mind the howler because Freddie’s the one that delivers it and he knows enough to stay. James is with his mum in the greenhouse and doesn’t hear it. Monty’s there, though, and it’s the first time Sirius has heard him swear.

“They’re just words, son,” he says when the howler explodes. Sirius knows it’s not true, it’s more than that, but the hate is tempered by being called ‘son’ by someone who means it.

“Yeah.” He takes Freddie to the owlery to get settled and joins James and his mum in the greenhouse where they’re transplanting a bloodspot into a larger pot.

“Just in time, my dear. Do you mind holding a few of these leaves out of the way? They are too tender to use a freezing charm on them.” James has dug the hole and Euphemia has the roots supported. Between the three of them they get it settled into the new pot, the dirt anchoring it in place. Pleased, Euphemia steps back to admire their work. “Just right.”

“Just where it belongs,” James says, but he’s not looking at the plant. Sirius rolls his eyes and sticks out his tongue, but he can’t disagree. He didn't run away from home, he ran towards it.

#harry potter fic #sirius black #the marauders #marauder era fic #my fic #remus lupin #james potter #peter pettigrew #andromeda black tonks #nymphadora tonks #ted tonks #euphemia potter #fleamont potter #hints of remus/sirius #hints of james/lily #abuse tw

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farmhandler · 4 years

Text

Bittersweet

Rating: M

Pairing: Sendak/Shiro

Warnings: Daddy Kink, Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy Sendak, Bottom!Shiro

CH: 8/?

WC: 5K~

Read on AO3 | Read the whole series

A/N: I did forget to post ch7 on here so go read that first!!! Enjoy ch8~

Hearing his voice after so long was tougher than Shiro would have imagined. It didn’t help that when Sendak picked up only two rings in, the first thing out of his mouth was “Shiro."

There was no hello, no question as to who was calling or what he might want. Just his name, breathed with reverence.

“Hi,” Shiro said, pausing after. He was still driving, so he had the road to focus on and keep himself from shooting his phone constant glances. “So, um, hey. It’s been a while.”

Sendak didn’t say anything, which boded well.

“I was wondering. I mean—I got the call from Ulaz. But that’s not why I’m calling,” he hastened to add. He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel to help keep himself calm. “Though I wasn’t expecting that. You still find ways to surprise me sometimes.”

More silence. Shiro licked his lips.

“How are you doing? You haven’t had any issues since I saw you last?”

Immediately Shiro wanted to slap himself. I know you almost died, but how’s it going?

Still there was no response. He glanced at his phone, but he wasn’t muted.

Did Sendak not want to talk to him that much? His fingers went tight around his steering wheel. Shiro was starting to suspect that calling Sendak had been a mistake. If he was going to give him the silent treatment after they had agreed to a break, then maybe they weren’t ready to have this conversation.

He was about to say as much when he heard Sendak’s voice crackle to life from his speakers.

“I’m doing well,” Sendak said, in a tone Shiro wasn’t sure he’d ever heard. His voice sounded wet, like he was seconds from crying. “Are you…” There was a painfully long pause, and when Sendak continued, his voice broke. “Are you well?”

A wave of longing and grief slammed into Shiro so hard that his knuckles gripping the steering wheel went white. He swallowed a few times before answering.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Can we talk?”

“Yes,” Sendak replied with immediate understanding. There was no need to ask what Shiro meant. And this time, he sounded much more collected. “I would like that. I would—” he paused. Shiro prayed he wasn’t about to start crying because he didn’t think he could handle that, and he still needed to see to be able to drive. “I would like to see you.”

“We can do that.” Shiro hesitated, but couldn’t stop himself from adding, “I’d like to see you, too.” More than ever. “Where do you want to meet?” Tapping his fingertips against the wheel, Shiro considered his options. There weren’t many. He would prefer it to be private. “…My apartment?”

“I will take you out.” Shiro opened his mouth, but Sendak was still talking hurriedly, likely anticipating his response. “To a local eatery. It would be a neutral space. For both of us.”

Oddly touched by the consideration, Shiro blinked at the road slowly. His thoughtful tone was unexpected but not unwelcome.

“That sounds like a good idea. What time works for you? Assuming you’re working the same schedule, how about we meet at seven on Friday?”

Friday was still several days away which would give Shiro plenty of time to prepare.

“Friday it is, then.”

“Friday.” Shiro nodded to no one. He felt the sudden urge to keep the conversation going and keep Sendak on the phone. He wanted to say what was on his mind; he missed him, he loved him. But those weren’t the things he needed to say in that moment.

“See you then, Sendak,” Shiro said instead. It took all his willpower to hang up.

Shiro didn’t think he’d been this nervous to see Sendak since the first day they met.

He had changed his clothes four times—the first two because he felt he was trying too hard, and the last one because he thought maybe he looked like he wasn’t trying hard enough. He didn’t want Matt or anyone to know what he was doing in case it gave him second thoughts, so he was going at it alone.

This is ridiculous, he thought. He lifted a black turtleneck he was considering. Spring had not yet sprung, so he still had time to wear warmer clothing. But if they were going to sit inside, drinking hot drinks and eating hot food, he knew he might become uncomfortably warm. With their conversation looming overhead, he anticipated being sweaty enough.

Shiro ended up wearing one of his favorite leather jackets with a long-sleeved T-shirt underneath. Midway into the relationship Sendak had bought him an expensive, very nice leather jacket, but he didn’t want to wear anything Sendak had given him. They needed to be on equal, even ground for this conversation.

With his wallet, keys, and a manila folder in hand, Shiro went to their meeting spot early. It always seemed like Sendak had to tear himself away from his work, so he anticipated waiting a while.

Much to his surprise, half an hour early wasn’t early enough. When he walked into the pizza place and looked around, he spotted a familiar figure seated near the back.

Sendak sat in a booth by himself, casually scrolling through his pad. He didn’t see Shiro come in, but it wouldn’t be long until he smelled him, so Shiro took the opportunity to watch him and take in the sight he hadn’t seen in almost two months.

God, he had missed him. Two months was enough time to bend the longing into a fierce ache.

Sendak was wearing a sweater that somehow fit his frame perfectly. It was black, which came to no surprise, and the tufts of fur peeking out from the edges of the sweater were too adorable for words.

Keep it together, Shiro. You’re still supposed to be angry. At least a little.

While Shiro had been deliberating how to best approach (aside from the obvious), Sendak had spotted him. The moment his eyes locked onto Shiro he sat up straight, setting his pad down and staring at Shiro with an intensity that made his face begin to flush red.

He stood from the table just as Shiro waved and began walking over. Sendak’s eyes never left his.

“Hey, Sendak,” Shiro greeted once he was close enough. “It’s—it’s good to see you.”

His greeting fell somewhat flat. And upon closer inspection, it was clear that Sendak had not been taking care of himself properly. If this were their first meeting, Shiro wouldn’t have been able to tell. But they had been dating for months, and he knew what his fur looked like when it was kept up at the bare minimum. Brushed and shiny, but only on the surface.

There was no point in acknowledging what he saw though, so when Sendak repeated his sentiment he just nodded.

“I took the liberty of ordering ahead so you would not need to wait,” Sendak added stiffly. His shoulders sagged a little at Shiro’s stare. “I thought it would be quicker. Should you wish to leave for any reason.”

It was a flaccid excuse, but Shiro didn’t call him out on it. He thought about how best to answer and decided on, “Thank you. You know I’ll eat just about anything as long as there aren’t any olives.”

“No olives,” Sendak agreed awkwardly.

While they spoke, his fingers were slowly curling and uncurling into fists. His eyes kept darting towards Shiro’s neckline. Standing there in a sweater and jeans (jeans! Shiro hadn’t seen him in jeans in ages) at a casual pizza joint, he couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable.

“I know I’ve said this before, but I’m really glad you’re okay. And I really appreciate you meeting me here like this.”

Shiro had aimed for polite and congenial, but he couldn’t hide the aching notes in his voice. Sendak breathed out a sigh that was more like a groan.

“I have missed you,” Sendak said. He took an aborted step closer. “Our time apart has given me much to think about.”

“Yeah?” Shiro swallowed. “I missed you too. Let’s sit down and talk.”

They didn’t sit down. They stared at each other, standing in the middle of Emerald City Pizza late at night, seconds somehow stretching into eons.

Sendak stepped into his space and Shiro let him, barely resisting with a single hand pressed against his broad chest. Shiro ducked his head, and Sendak followed him, leaning in too close for comfort, his breath warm on Shiro’s cheek.

"You smell like... Ulaz,” he said lowly. He brushed his cheek softly over Shiro’s, nuzzling him in a gesture so familiar it made Shiro want to cry. One of his claws teased at the edge of Shiro’s shirt, like he was seconds from rectifying that little fact.

“I know,” Shiro replied, turning his head to meet his eyes. He didn’t let his gaze waver, making sure Sendak understood that even if he did, that was none of his business. “Let’s sit down. I have something to show you.”

Sendak released him and they sat down. Off kilter from the unexpected start, Shiro spent a few long moments adjusting the papers inside the manila folder to give himself a reminder of his goals and the main purpose of the meeting. Once he brought it into the light, Sendak stared at it cautiously. Even with his limited expression, Shiro could tell he was distrustful.

“I spent the last few days drafting these. I ended up needing a little help, but I think I got the job done.”

Shiro pulled out each page one by one and set them down between them. Sendak flipped them so he could read them one by one, the furrow in his brow deepening with each passing minute.

Shiro affected a pose of casual nonchalance, hands folded out in front of him. He had to remind himself not to clench them too tightly.

Sendak set down the paper he was holding. “I do not understand.”

“This is a contract,” Shiro said firmly. “Not exactly a conventional way to agree on things, but I thought given our circumstances, this would make sense.” Shiro picked up the first paper and pointed to the first paragraph. “I wanted it to be clear what the point of this was. Boundaries.”

“Boundaries?”

“I understand that things are different for you for a lot of reasons, and this way we can agree on things that work for both of us. No secrets.”

Sendak continued to stare at him, his confusion fading into a blank expression that Shiro couldn’t read. But that was okay. He had anticipated shock and potentially resistance.

“I didn’t mean for us to fill this out now. I just wanted to show you that I've been trying to take your needs into account even though I don’t…agree with them sometimes.” Shiro cleared his throat and sat back in his seat. “We can at least discuss it.”

For a few minutes, Sendak busied himself by glancing over the papers. He still hadn’t offered a proper response, but Shiro knew how to be patient. He waited, declining the waiter’s offer for more water, and eventually he was rewarded when Sendak addressed him.

“This is not how I expected this meeting to go. I had assumed that you had come to the logical conclusion that you—that I was unfit to be your mate.” He drew in air through his nose, and Shiro realized that the reason he had not raised his head was because Sendak’s emotions were currently overwhelming him.

Shiro looked at Sendak’s hand, halfway extended across the table, and thought about taking it. He thought about comforting him; telling him about all the thoughts he had been having, but he didn’t. Maybe later, but not now.

Shiro curled his fingers into a fist. This would be the second time he had seen Sendak cry.

“I thought about it,” he said gently once Sendak was able to collect himself. “You really hurt me, Sendak. I know you did it for the right reasons, but it still hurt.”

“I understand,” Sendak replied wetly. “I will do anything to make it up to you. Anything.”

“I know. You said that before,” Shiro said, somewhat teasingly. His hand moved without his permission, reaching across and brushing over Sendak’s claws.

Two months. Even longer if he counted the weeks he had been waiting for Sendak to get back with him during their Christmas blowup, before he found him bleeding out. Compared to the entirety of their lives, it wasn’t long stretch of time by any means, but the situation surrounding it made it feel so much longer.

Shiro curled his fingertips around Sendak’s, catching his eye when Sendak realized what he was doing.

Sendak’s hand was warm. And it had been so long.

The moment was broken when their waitress came back with their pizza. She looked between the two of them, them at the papers scattered along the table. “Pepperoni and sausage?” she said, awkwardly looking for a place to put it.

“Oh! Thank you, right here is fine.” Shiro shoved aside the contract papers haphazardly to make space. Sendak went even further and collected them in front of him in a neat pile, pressing his hand over them reverently.

“Thank you,” Sendak said to their waitress without looking at her. Shiro flashed her a smile.

Once she was gone, Shiro passed a plate to himself, then Sendak, and started divvying up the pizza.

“So, like I said,” he continued, as if the moment before had not happened. “I figured we’d go to a private space to work on this, but if there’s anything you want to talk about now, I think we should.”

“Then you are amenable,” Sendak said slowly. “To our continuation.”

Shiro immediately wanted to slap himself. He was getting so ahead of himself that he had failed to communicate clearly.

“I love you, Sendak,” Shiro said. He watched his one yellow eye widen. He had said it twice now, and each time Sendak looked just as surprised. “For better or for worse. You are the one I want to be with. You are my mate. I just…” He faltered, wondering if he was going too far too early. “I just want you to know that.”

As confident as he felt now, Shiro had to wade through an ocean of doubts to get to a point where he felt sure. And even then, there were no guarantees. But with this, he had hoped they could make it work.

At his declaration, Sendak let out a breath like what Shiro had said physically pained him.

“And you are the only one I desire. There is no one else.” Sendak squeezed his hands together on the table, claws buried into fur. “I cannot express how much I regret hurting you.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

For a while, conversation moved to lighter topics. They talked about work, what they had been doing in their free time, and how much they both wanted it to stop snowing all the time. Sendak was more open about his work life, taking time to complain about coworkers and operations succeeding and failing. Because they were in public, he was still tightlipped, but Shiro could feel the difference.

It was a very refreshing change.

Together they finished off the pizza in record time, and then ended up ordering a dessert pie afterwards.

Shiro was happy to keep their contract on the backburner and focus on lighter conversation, but Sendak was the one to push the issue when it came up again.

“You don’t want to take some time to think about it?” Shiro asked.

“It is a brilliant solution. Had I not been so—“ there was the barest pause, and Shiro couldn’t tell what he meant by that, but based on the state of his fur and the lackluster shine on his prosthetic, he could consumed with grief.

“It is well-crafted,” Sendak finished quietly.

“Thanks.” Shiro tapped his fingers against the table. The waitress came back with their dessert, and Shiro set it between them. “Even if I wanted to work on this, I didn’t bring a pen.” He didn’t exactly relish asking the waitress for a pen to work on their relationship contract.

“I have a pen,” Sendak said, because of course he did. He brought out a shiny fountain pen from seemingly nowhere and after Shiro agreed with a shrug, he started working on the rules section.

“You can ignore the part about goals if you want to,” Shiro said, suddenly self-conscious now that his work was being scrutinized. “And you can suggest any changes. Nothing is final.”

Sendak nodded. He could already see him marking a few things to change here and there, and Shiro tried not to take it personally. Sendak had more experience with contractual obligations.

When he got to the rules section with Shiro’s initial suggested rules and additional blank spaces, he glanced up at him quicky before he began writing. Shiro kept eating his pie, forcing himself not to read what Sendak was carefully writing down.

When he finished, Shiro again had to exercise restraint as he pulled the papers back towards him.

“Let’s see what we’ve got,” he said lightly, even though his nerves were shot.

Upon scanning the document, it became immediately clear what was missing. “There’s nothing about surveillance on here.” In fact, there was nothing that Shiro had expected to be on there; save for allowance thrice weekly for Sendak to scent him.

Sendak blinked at him. “I had assumed that was entirely off the table given the circumstances.”

“It’s—I mean. It’s not that I want you to bug my apartment, but I just thought—” Shiro stopped and took a breath. “I don’t want you to pretend there are things that you don’t want,” he continued slowly. “Be completely honest with me about what you want. For now, pretend that anything goes.”

Shiro knew that this was a dangerous game to play, but it mattered more that they were on the same page.

Sendak visibly hesitated, then he snatched the papers back towards himself and began scribbling down hurriedly.

It was several more minutes and a slice of pie before Sendak slid them over to Shiro. He glanced over them, keeping his expectations reigned in.

“A spending requirement?” Shiro swallowed around a mouthful of food. “Why would I need a spending requirement?”

“You have yet the credit card that I gave you on more than trivial necessities. I had intended for you to fulfill your every desire at your leisure,” Sendak said, like it made sense. “This way you will not have to feign resistance.”

“Feign resistance? I’m—that’s n—”

He stopped himself. This wasn’t the time to get emotional; he had to remember that.

“I can see where you’re coming from.” Shiro’s face was burning. Thank god they weren’t near any other customers. “It’s definitely something to consider. So, what about item 6, GPS tracker? Are you asking to install an app on my phone or what?”

At the thought, his skin crawled.

“Whatever you wish. It is not…” Sendak shifted uncomfortably. “It is not intended to control you. You had asked for honesty, and this is among the precautions I would prefer to have to ensure your protection.”

“I appreciate that honesty.” Shiro tapped his fingers flat against the table. “Definitely…on the ‘to consider’ list.”

A week ago, Shiro would have lost it the over a list like this. Now, with their needs being laid out in the open, it felt less like a threat looming over his head and something that he could, for lack of a better word, control. He didn’t have to agree to anything Sendak was suggesting, and he wasn’t as freaked out as he thought he’d be.

“I have a few suggestions,” Shiro said. “But you’ve already given me a lot to think about. Plus, my hands are greasy; wouldn’t want to ruin the papers here.” He wiped said greasy hands with his napkin. Sendak raised a brow at his obvious attempt at avoiding the talk at hand, but thankfully he didn’t push. There were things Shiro wanted to say, but—not here. Here had just been a neutral zone to lay the groundwork. “How about you give me the night to think on all this and then we can reconvene privately to revise it?”

Sendak’s ears had been moving in several directions for a while now, an indication of his general mood, and when Shiro stood to use the bathroom they went flat, pinned to his head.

“You are leaving now?” he asked, painfully sincere.

“I just have to go to the bathroom,” Shiro assured him. He waited until Sendak relaxed before leaving.

In the bathroom, Shiro peed and then washed his hands, but hesitated in front of the sink mirror.

The night had not gone exactly as expected. This, he told himself, was a good thing. It was good that Sendak was enthusiastic. It was good that things could feel normal for a brief moment.

Am I doing the right thing? he wondered, staring into the mirror. Should I be approaching things differently? Is this happening too fast?

Is this what you want?

He glanced down the drain, then back up at the mirror.

The face staring back at him bore no hesitation.

With that, Shiro took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom.

After weaving his way through the restaurant back to their table, he found Sendak hunched over the papers again, head in his hand. Shiro frowned. He thought the short break would give him a few minutes of reprieve, but he instead Sendak looked frantic and uneasy, rifling through them like he was looking for something.

“You okay?” Shiro asked, moving to sit back down.

“I...” Sendak rose suddenly and faced Shiro. Once again, he was reminded that they were in the middle of a public restaurant, and he hoped Sendak remember that too. “I fear that my actions may be misinterpreted,” he said hurriedly. “I don’t want you to think that I am aiming to control you. I am not” he paused for breath, his large chest heaving for a few moments “I don’t want to hurt you. I only wish for your happiness.”

“…I know that,” Shiro replied. He pushed Sendak until he sat back down and then Shiro slid into his side of the booth. “I don’t think that you did everything on purpose just to hurt me. I’ve never thought that. I think…” He looked around at the other customers, a few who were glancing their way. As much as it was necessary, he didn’t want to talk about all the ways in which they were hurting here at this restaurant. “I think we need to save this particular conversation for later.” He spotted their waitress passing by and flagged her down for the check. "That okay?"

"I...suppose you are right. We cannot accomplish all in one night." Sendak huffed, lacing his fingers in front of him carefully. "Things need...time."

Disgruntled didn't even cover how put out Sendak sounded at the prospect of time.

"Exactly," Shiro agreed nonetheless. "Tonight was good. I think it's a great start to starting over. And next time I'll be more involved. Tonight I really just wanted to talk."

That was when the waitress approached with a pen and paper. “Is there anything else I can get for you?" she asked. At the shake of Shiro's head, she glanced between the two of them. "Just one check tonight?”

Shiro hesitated to answer immediately, staring at Sendak across from him.

“You know what? Just one check,” Shiro told her.

Sendak gazed at Shiro like he didn’t know what to make of him.

“I was going to have us split dinner,” Shiro began. “But I thought…” He licked his lips. “I think this is okay. I don’t mind letting you have this. This is the kind of thing that makes you happy, and that’s…that’s okay.”

“As I recall, you drew as much pleasure from our arrangement as I do.”

“It’s not the same though,” Shiro replied. He leaned his head on his fist, dragging his thumb along the edge of the table with his other hand. “I know you. You like to provide.”

Shiro’s voice edged on teasing, lowering into a register more flirtatious than he had intended.

Nothing changed about Sendak’s face visibly, but when the waitress came back with the check, Sendak took it from her without hesitation. His chest puffed while he filled out the total, and he exhaled deeply once he set it at the end of the table.

It was his black card. Completely unnecessary for the amount their meal has cost, but impossible to miss. Shiro’s eyes flicked to Sendak, then back to the card. He said nothing, but the air felt…charged.

This is bad. Hold it together.

“Shall we?” Shiro suggested once she returned with his card, his voice even.

The cool air that met Shiro outside was wonderfully chilly. The restaurant hadn’t been overly warm, but he was damp with sweat from their conversation.

He stood just outside the entrance and breathed it in for a few heavenly seconds before his body adjusted and it reminded him that it was actually cooler outside than was comfortable.

“You are driving?” Sendak inquired beside him. Shiro opened his eyes and glanced over at his car parked on the other side of the road. He nodded at it.

“Yeah, it’s not too close to my apartment. Though I’m sure you knew that.”

“I see,” Sendak said. It didn’t seem to bother him. It shouldn’t. He liked control, but he didn’t want to control his every move.

How much of it was true? How much could Shiro trust?

“I don’t want you to think ill of me,” Sendak added suddenly. Maybe his unease had been obvious. “If it is what you want, we do not have to continue.”

His fists clenched and then unclenched. It was obviously the last thing he wanted.

There was so much Shiro wanted to say, and so much he felt like he couldn’t. Sendak had made mistakes, and it would be wrong of Shiro to act like they didn’t matter, or that they didn’t change things.

“Can you believe it’s been two months?” Shiro wrapped his arms around himself and turned to face Sendak. “Feels like longer. And the last time we were together, we—” He had to press his lips together to stop himself. “Sendak, this may be weird to ask, but can I hug you?”

His response was immediate. Like he had been waiting for permission, Sendak stepped forward and swept him into a firm embrace. Shiro didn’t even hesitate to wrap his arms firmly around Sendak’s middle, burying his face in the warmth of Sendak’s sweater.

The ever familiar smell of his cologne overwhelmed him. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled Sendak as close as physically possible, wishing for a wild moment that they were alone and not out in public.

“I missed you so much,” Shiro choked out. “I was so mad at you. I still am sometimes, but I missed you. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

In response, Sendak squeezed harder. He nearly lifted Shiro off the ground in his fierce embrace, and after an eternity he loosened his grip so he could look Shiro in the face.

“Da hos del thenak,” Sendak said, evidently switching off his translator just to say it. Even without an explanation, without understanding a word, Shiro knew what he meant.

“The next time I see you, you’re going to tell me what that means. Okay?”

Sendak nodded against his forehead, close now, so close. Their breaths mingled in the air.

Shiro's resolve to keep it at a platonic hug rapidly crumbled as Sendak slipped an arm around the small of his back and cradled the side of his head with the other hand. He repeated the phrase again, and again, nuzzling the side of his face, inching perilously close to the length of Shiro's throat, and on the third repetition Shiro yanked him back into a kiss.

Sendak made a sound like he was in pain, and seconds later, as he opened Shiro’s mouth with his tongue, it transformed into a needy, warm groan. The hand around his waist pulled tight, his claws digging into Shiro’s hips. Shiro brought his hands up to frame Sendak’s face, a weak attempt to keep the kiss somewhat chaste, and Sendak took that as permission to back him up against the concrete wall beside the restaurant and deepen it.

He'd missed this. Sendak’s smell, his—his scent drove him wild. Shiro loved the way he smelled; the way his hands felt holding him tight; the way he kissed him like he wanted to devour him.

“Sendak,” Shiro gasped, sliding his hands down, over his massive pecs. Fuck. “Stop it. We’re not—“ another kiss, one Shiro couldn’t help but melt into “I’m not doing this with you.”

Sendak’s lips left his and Shiro felt their loss. Then Sendak’s teeth grazed his ear, while his hand rubbed along the crook of Shiro’s neck, spreading his scent where possible. Since it was clear his words weren't enough, Shiro raised his hand and slipped it over Sendak’s, curling it over the back of his palm and threading their fingers so he could tug at it.

“Sendak,” he urged.

“Two months,” Sendak breathed. He pressed his full weight into Shiro, breathing hard. “Dozens of cycles. You are right: I want to provide for you. I want to provide you with anything you could ever want. Nothing you desire is out of my reach. I ache for your presence alongside mine.”

Shiro swallowed his words. He was trying to remain strong, but Sendak was making that very hard.

“I—I have to leave.”

“You said I made you cry,” he added, sounding broken up by the fact. Truly, honestly, as if causing Shiro pain was no longer something he could bear. As if he really understood what he had done.

A couple walked out from the restaurant doors and passed by, hardly paying them any attention, but it was enough to encourage Shiro to turn his head away. Sendak planted a kiss along the side of his forehead, sending a sharp electric shudder down Shiro’s spine.

“Enough,” he said firmly, using every ounce of willpower to pull away. “I know you’re sorry. And you did make me cry. But we are not doing this. Get off me.”

He reluctantly withdrew, a sour look on his face. A frustrated Sendak was a thing to behold.

“...At least allow me to scent you.”

“No,” Shiro said. “No, what we just did wasn’t okay. It’s not going to happen again.” No matter how much he wanted it to. “Not until we figure this out.”

“How long?” Sendak asked. “How long until we can meet again?”

Humans place so much emphasis on time, Sendak had said once. Thinking about what he said earlier, Shiro wondered how much longer those two months may have felt for him.

“How about…Sunday. My place. That’s only two days from now.”

“I will arrive in the morning,” Sendak agreed. “I will need to work that afternoon and evening, but in the morning I am yours.”

“Okay.” Shiro looked at Sendak’s hand, remembering the patches of fur missing all over his body. They had grown back by now, but the memory would be forever etched into his brain. “Okay,” he said again. He reached out and brushed their fingers together. Sendak’s hand engulfed his and clutched it, as if to keep him tethered there to him.

“Be safe.” Shiro said. He squeezed his hand as best he could. “Take care of yourself.”

Sendak’s gaze went painfully soft. “I will.”

Shiro went back to his car, sparing Sendak a few glances before he slid inside. Sendak stayed where he was, watching him much like Ulaz had before he finally lifted his phone and began speaking, likely summoning his driver.

I wonder which one of them has been watching over me, he wondered. The thought had crossed his mind before. It made sense; there was no way in hell Sendak would meet him without some kind of assurance that he would be safe. He would have to ask Sendak once they met again.

He drove off, already thinking about his own rules he wanted to add to the contract.

#sugar baby shiro #sugar daddy sendak #shendak #vld #shiro #sendak #my fic #fic #ch8 #voltron fic

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zeroadult479 · 3 years

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City Online Dating Las Vegas Nv

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Online Dating In Clark County, Nevada

Let’s be honest, Las Vegas isn’t the first place that comes to mind when one thinks about trying to find true love or even necessarily a great first date and/or a fun, meaningful six month relationship. Instead, it’s the destination where you met that random guy you would never have looked at twice outside of Vegas, but – hey – you were wearing a sequin tube top and what happens in Vegas… You see where I’m going with this? But, here’s the thing, some of us actually live here. I know, I know. It’s a novel idea. And while most locals would rather endure an unmedicated root canal than drive to The Strip, park at a casino and navigate through drunk tourists double fisting foot-long margaritas, there are plenty of hidden gems throughout our neon oasis in the desert. Image via LinksmanJD on Flickr.

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Until very recently, I lived most of my four years in Sin City a few blocks from Las Vegas Boulevard and while there really is a lot The Strip has to offer, more on that later, I would always prefer to get away from the tourists and the traffic and the blinding Ed Hardy get-ups and head downtown to Fremont East. Let’s keep it real, this is where the cool kids congregate and where some of the most fun, unique places this city has to offer are located. I suggest starting your evening at Bar + Bistro, home of monthly vintage bike night, for some tapas and sangria before making your way down Fremont Street to pop in and out of fun bars while making witty, flirtatious and, most importantly, funny banter. From the bar where you sometimes wish everyone didn’t know your name and your ex wasn’t permanently parked at the bar, The Griffin, to one of the best places to drink a beer and listen to live music, The Beauty Bar, to a place you can play your favorite arcade game while sipping on a vodka tonic, Insert Coins, to the only place in town I know of where you can get on a teeter-totter with your date, Park, the bars on Fremont East have it all. And if I could find a guy who would take me to my favourite piano bar, Don’t Tell Mama, he would pretty much have my heart forever. Image via LinksmanJD on Flickr.

The Beat

While I went here, Republic Bar + Kitchen, on my first online date in Las Vegas, I think the majority of people meeting someone from the internet for the first time worry about a few things: a) Can I make a quick getaway if I’m not feeling it?, b) How big of a time investment do I need to make for someone I may or may not have anything to talk about with? and c) Where is a safe place I will likely survive the first meeting if my date ends up being a serial killer? This is where coffee shops come to the rescue. Sunrise Coffee is definitely my favorite coffee spot in town and makes me feel like I’m back in Seattle (which, in my world, is a very good thing). They are local, independent, serve vegetarian and vegan-friendly fare and draw a crowd that my friends from back home would look at and say, “This is Vegas?” Last, but not least, check out The Beat for your first online date. If you end up with too many awkward silences while sipping your latte, you can thumb through their collection of records or stroll through Emergency Arts. Image via lmundy202 on Flickr.

Nove at the Palms

For a romantic date in Vegas, I suggest taking your special someone to The Strip for a delicious dinner and then out to a show. One thing we have an abundance of here in Las Vegas is a plethora of fine dining options. But, beware, plenty of these options also come with a hefty price tag. Luckily, many restaurants here offer a pre-fixe menu with smaller, more affordable alternatives to their regular priced entrees. Some of my favorite meals I’ve ever had have been here on The Strip. For Japanese cuisine, and a meal that will still make your mouth water two years later just thinking about it, try Shibuya. I still dream about the rock shrimp tempura and the Kobe beef. Another favorite is Nove at the Palms. The dinner I had there is still imprinted on my heart and the view alone is worth the visit. Wherever you choose to dine for your special night, if you give it a quick ten minutes search of the best new restaurants on The Strip, you’ll find just the right one and definitely won’t be disappointed. Trust me. After dinner, I suggest taking in one of the Cirque du Soleil shows. You know I’m still waiting for someone to take me to see Michael Jackson ONE, but you really can’t go wrong with the Beatles LOVE. You’ll leave holding hands, singing songs and believing that all you need is, in fact, love. Image via lmundy202 on Flickr.

Valley of Fire

Dating Service Las Vegas

For a casual date in (or around) Vegas, I have a few suggestions. If you hop on your card and head north with a packed picnic basket, Valley of Fire would be the perfect spot for a sweet lunch with a gorgeous view. Another option is taking a stroll through the botanical gardens at The Springs Preserve. A place that will be sure to impress, and if you bring your camera will provide plenty of vintage Vegas inspired photos, is the Neon Boneyard. This is the spot where the signs of Vegas yesteryear, or what I like to call the Elvis and Priscilla Vegas, have gone to their loving resting place. Trust me, your date will love it, but be sure to book a tour. If a fantastic, casual meal is what you’re in the mood for, please head to my happy place, Yama Sushi. Try the Sun on the Beach roll (I’m not kidding when I say it will change your life) and tell them Kathleen sent you. Image via lmundy202 on Flickr.

The Golden Nugget Pool

For a fun and adventurous date, it would be fun to head back down to Fremont during the day for a swim at my favorite hotel, The Golden Nugget. There, you will find the most magical pool you’ve ever seen. Don’t believe me? TripAdvisor once listed The Tank as the only US pool in their Top Ten Most Amazing Hotel Pools in the World list. This is where you can slide through a glass-enclosed aquarium with sharks. Yes, you read that right. Look into it here. While you’re down on Fremont, take your date on a zipline through the Fremont Street Experience. These rides will be offered again in the fall. Another adventurous activity is a trek to Red Rock Canyon to check out the petroglyphs. Last, but not least, if you’re looking for an adventurous and very memorable date in Vegas, I suggest a helicopter ride over The Strip at night. An added bonus would be to softly play Kanye West’s “All of the Lights” in the background because, in this town, it is Vegas everywhere we are. Image via LinksmannJD on Flickr

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beeblebrox-be-damned · 5 years

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Silohuette (Part 3: Cell Division Begins)

Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

It felt like you’d been hit in the head by a freight train. You groaned, flopping over onto your side. Your limbs felt too heavy to move more than a fraction of an inch.

Yesterday was a rough day. You were glad to be in bed. It was still dark out, so that meant you’d have plenty more time to sleep before your shift began.

Wait, bed? Your fingers twitched. The fabric beneath them was smooth, crisp sheets, not the scratchy fabric of the old beige couch you’d gotten at Goodwill. They smelled faintly of rosemary. The pillow beneath your head was soft but supported your neck well, not the old lumpy throw pillow you used each night.

In fact, it didn’t seem like it should be night. If anything, afternoon. You opened your eyes. It was dark, much darker than your apartment ever was. Deep, inky black. You felt as though you were in a cave.

There was the rain. The old woman. The soaked felt hat. But then what?

Your head ached as you struggled to wrestle your memories into a plausible narrative as to what had happened.

Park Avenue, and then Stark Tower. Someone had gotten in the cab. They wanted to go out of town.

It was the man from the bar. Bucky. You sat up quickly, head swimming as you fought back the urge to vomit. You felt sick. You grasped around blindly in the dark before your hand finally landed on what felt like a lamp. You groped upwards and found a switch.

Soft light flooded the room. You were in, or rather, on a four-poster bed. The quilt was pushed to the end of the bed so that you rested directly on the cream-colored sheets. There were flecks of glass scattered over them, and over your clothing as well. The window, he’d broken the window.

The room was fairly small, with several empty bookshelves lining the walls. There were two doors on opposite sides of the room, and a dresser near the large bed. Slowly, heart pounding like a rabbit’s, you slid out of the bed. Your feet hit plush carpet, muffled only by your socks. You glanced around. Your shoes were nowhere to be seen.

Carefully, you dusted as much glass off yourself as you could. It landed in the carpet, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. Your mind was nearly blank, the shock and confusion robbing you of your sense of panic. You were numb.

The door to the left led into a well furnished bathroom. You checked the cabinets briefly, noting a package of your preferred feminine hygiene product. A shiver worked down your spine. It was right, even down to the brand and size. Alongside it were bottles of your favorite lotion, shampoo, and soaps, like the ones you only used on special occasions since normally they were over your budget.

The door on the right opened to reveal a sort of spacious living room. There was a television mounted on one wall. A table rested in front of a sectional couch that wrapped around half of the room. A few painting hung on the walls depicting charming pastoral scenes. You crept through the room, noting the pile of paper and drawing materials on the table.

A heavy door was tucked in the corner, just out of sight until you had emerged into the room fully. You inspected it closely, but didn’t dare touch it. It was metal, and bolted strongly to the wall. A rap of your knuckles against the wall revealed just what you thought: it was concrete. Were you in some sort of bunker?

A keypad and a thin glass screen of sorts sat just above the doorknob, at roughly eye-level. It was likely password protected. The screen showed no display. Your best guess was that it was a scanner of sorts.

Just as you were about to work up the nerve to touch the keypad, the door clicked and swung open slowly. You stumbled back, dropping into a crouch beside the sofa, terror finally washing over you. You stared wide-eyed, heart hammering in your chest.

The man who walked in the door was none other than the person you’d assumed, correctly it would seem, had kidnapped you. His long, dark hair was pulled back in a short ponytail and a ballcap rested atop his head. He walked into the room, placing a bag on the table. His clothing looked slightly damp. It must’ve still been raining outside.

He turned towards the bedroom door before spotting you out of the corner of his eye. He smiled softly. “I see you’re awake. You might have a headache for a while, but water will help. There’s a couple bottles in the bag over there.” He nodded towards the grocery bag he’d set on the table.

You didn’t move, didn’t speak. A thousand thoughts rattled around your head, all discordant and confused. Your breath became faster and faster, a wheezing whine coming up from your throat as you began to hyperventilate. Bucky’s expression morphed into concern, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Hey,” he said softly, almost frantic, “Hey, calm down.” Walked close to you. You ducked your head down against your knees, your fingernails digging into your scalp as you began to rock back and forth on the floor. A sputtering sob left your lips as fear hit you full-force.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around you, warmth enveloping your body even as chills rushed over your skin raising goosebumps in their wake. His hand rubbed your back. One seemed oddly cold, but you were too afraid to care. What was he going to do? Was he going to kill you? Torture you?

Why you?

Bucky hated to see you in such palpable distress. He knew it would be rough, but seeing it in person still hurt. The way your eyes darted around like a cornered animal’s, the way your body shook like a leaf in the wind. He wanted to comfort you, but you weren’t there yet. It would be a long time before that.

Someday, though.

He lifted you up, still tucked around yourself, and placed you on the couch. He sat down on the other side, facing you. He waited patiently as the sobs turned into hiccups and then to whimpers. He knew you’d need to vent your stress in some way, and crying was much better than trying to attack him or hurt yourself.

Slowly, you brought your hands down. You could feel the sting of your scalp where your nails had broken through the skin. You wrapped your arms tightly around your legs, hugging yourself. Your hair clung to your wet cheeks, your eyes puffy and red. You looked up slowly.

“Why am I here?” You tried to sound firm, but your voice came out as a light croak, breaking midway through the sentence as if your brain wanted you to stop there and not find out the answer. Part of you wished you had stopped.

Bucky gazed at you calmly. Over excitement or expressiveness would just scare you, make you shy away. As glad as he was to have you here and as heartbroken he was to see your distress, he kept his face neutral. Of course, he couldn’t answer you directly yet. It was too soon. He knew what would happen eventually, what the two of you would become, but for now he needed to ease you into your new living conditions.

“You’re here because it’s safe,” he stated simply. he turned his head and leaned over, grabbing the bag he’d set on the table. “I got takeout from a restaurant near here. I hope you like Italian.” He pulled out two styrofoam containers, pushing one towards you and setting a napkin and fork beside it.

You eyed the box suspiciously, refusing to drop the subject or accept the food. Well, until he gave you answers, that is. The food smelled delicious and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten well. You cleared your throat. “Safe? From what?” Bucky popped open his takeout box and began to eat, thinking over his next words carefully. “The world is very different now,” he said slowly, “as I’m sure you know well.” He knew about everyone you had lost. He’d done his research. “With so many people gone, its a madhouse. Crime festering everywhere.” It was true. With the pain of loss and the boldness of the remaining criminals, crime rates were higher than ever.

He took a drink from his water bottle, mulling over what he wanted to say next. He licked his lips nervously, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “I saw you in that bar and knew you needed to be protected.” A lone gem in a world of soot.

You pressed yourself back into the couch’s plush cushions, trembling. What did he mean by that? Yes, you’d talked a few times, but nothing more than polite conversation. He knew nothing about you.

Bucky watched casually as you stared at him silently. “It will all make sense eventually. For now, just relax, okay?” It hurt him to see you shake so hard and look so frightened. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I’d never do that, ever.”

You sniffled, tears springing to your eyes again as you watched Bucky turn away and finish his food. He stood when he was done, scooping up his empty takeout container and water-bottle, depositing them in the empty grocery bag. He looked at you with a gentle smile that just barely quirked the corners of his lips.

“I’ll leave your food down here for when you feel like eating. Next time, though, we’re going to eat together.” You needed some time to yourself for now, but when he came down with dinner, he’d go over some of the rules. “There’s a miniature fridge in the bedroom with some snacks and drinks if you get hungry or thirsty between meals.”

He brushed his fingers over your cheek briefly, wiping away tears with a surprising tenderness. You stared with doe-eyes as he took the grocery bag and left, shutting the heavy door behind him. The lock clicked in place and you were trapped alone once again.

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jesatria · 4 years

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Fic: Simple Pleasures, Chap 8

Title: Simple Pleasures Fandom: Kushiel’s Legacy Characters: Isidore d’Aiglemort, Anne Livet Pairings: Isidore/Anne Word Count: 4,888 Rating: NC-17 Summary: The story of Isidore d’Aiglemort & the gardener’s daughter of Lombelon. WIP. Disclaimer: I do not own Kushiel’s Legacy. This is only for fun & no profit is being made from it.

Previous Chapters:

1. The Visit

2. Desire

3. The Harvest Festival

4. Triumph

5. Gifts

6. The Eagle Unbound

7. Lighting the Candle

Chapter 8: The Longest NIght

Winter came early and hard. The snows fell earlier in the City than they were usually wont to do and fever soon broke out. It made me glad that I was not planning to pass the Longest Night there. Poets soon took to calling it the Bitterest Winter. Mayhap others felt the bitterness; I did not. Quite the opposite. Things were proceeding according to my plan. Yes, the King had rejected my bid for Ysandre’s hand and Ysandre herself refused to speak against her grandfather’s decision. It was a setback, but not a serious one. I had other plans.

I was in high spirits when I arrived at Lombelon a few days before the Longest Night. In truth I’d been flying high since Baudoin’s death, as if a weight had been lifted from me. That combined with Anne’s agreement to become my consort, sufficed to keep me in a fine mood since the summer. Then there was her unexpected revelation that she’d lit the candle to Eisheth. I soon realized, however, that I liked the idea of having a child with her. I was past thirty now—it was high time I got myself an heir. Whether I ever married or not, children born of an officially-recognized consort were counted as legitimate.

A fresh dusting of snow covered the ground when I arrived at Lombelon. Anne stood in her usual place of greeting outside the door, the fur-lined cloak I’d given her wrapped tightly around her. As I rode closer, I could see she was positively glowing with excitement. I all but leapt off my horse and rushed over to her. “I’ve some wonderful news,” she said after we exchanged the usual greetings, “I’m with child.”

My eyes went wide. “You’re certain?”

“Quite certain.”

I swept her into my arms and kissed her fervently. “That is wonderful news indeed!” Somehow the possibility of fatherhood had failed to register with me yet; this brought the reality home. I was going to be a father. Anne and I were going to have a child. It was happening, truly happening. The prospect was intimidating, yes, but only a little. The entirely foreign territory of parenthood was not such a wild land when I had Anne to travel it beside me.

“Would you carry me over the threshold as if I were your wife?” Anne’s teasing voice jolted me out of my thoughts. I did as she suggested and set her down just inside the doorway. It was only a casual remark, but it got me thinking, imagining myself as King with Anne and our child beside me. The thought of tossing all political considerations aside to follow Blessed Elua’s precepts was a very appealing one. I resolved to think on it again later, once I had the prize I sought. For now, I would continue with my plan to name Anne my official consort. ‘Twas a pity it would have to wait until I had the throne. I simply did not have the time to see to it before then, not when I had so many other preparations to make.

It was immediately apparent that the Longest Night was nigh upon us. The great hall was decorated with wreaths and evergreen boughs, embellished here and there with red, white, and silver ribbons. Such decorations were common for the Longest Night, but I could see how they would have a particular significance in L’Agnace as a reminder that there was life yet in the earth and green things would return. “I see you’ve noticed the decorations,” Anne remarked, drawing my attention back to her.

“Yes. They’re quite festive. Your doing?”

“Oh no, we always decorate the great hall like this for the Longest Night,” she explained. “I like the greenery. I’d keep it there all winter if I could.”

“How very L’Agnacite of you.”

“Seeing evergreens always cheers me in winter,” she replied. Anne hated winter, a sentiment which seemed rather common in L’Agnace. I recalled hearing Ghislain de Somerville complain about it while attending winter functions at the Palace. I found it hard to relate, as winter has always been my favorite season. Still, I did the best I could to comfort Anne when the cold weather began to wear on her. I’d have my work cut out for me convincing her to ever spend the winter with me in Camlach. She wouldn’t like the cold, but she was L’Agnacite and would see the beauty of the land.

“I’ll need to take you to the Midwinter Masque at the Palace sometime,” I said. “It’s somewhat to see at least once.”

She smiled. “I think I’d enjoy that.”

“The decorations are always quite stunning, the food excellent, the costumes beautiful. The only spectacle I can think of to match it would be the Midwinter Masque at the Night Court.”

Anne’s eyebrows rose. “The Night Court has its own masque?”

I nodded. “Cereus House hosts it every year, and all thirteen houses attend. It’s harder to get an invitation there than to the Palace masque.”

“Have you ever been?”

“Twice, both with Prince Baudoin.” The first time had been the year he played the Sun Prince. None of us had known about that beforehand, only that Baudoin had a surprise he couldn’t wait to share. In retrospect I’m surprised he did not just tell us, considering how he boasted of his mother’s plans so carelessly. Parts of that night are somewhat of a blur in my memory, as I’d been more than a little drunk, though not as drunk as Baudoin. I’d been stuck holding him as he staggered into Cereus House, so drunk he could barely walk. That was somewhat I didn’t miss in the least, carting Baudoin around when he was blind, stinking drunk.

“When was that?” Anne asked.

“The first was around ten years ago. I was just shy of turning twenty.” It seemed longer ago than that. “Baudoin and I were still good friends then.” The thought didn’t sting as much as it might have months ago.

She was silent for a moment and I thought she might ask me about Baudoin, but she didn’t. “Which of the two masques do you prefer?”

That was somewhat I never considered before; I had to think on it. “Well, it’s difficult to match the sheer decadence and debauchery of the Night Court. You can certainly get it at the Palace too, but no one does debauchery quite like the Night Court does. Their masque has a tendency to turn into an orgy before the night is over.”

Anne giggled. “Decadent indeed. I imagine the Palace masque is more restrained.”

“Yes, to a certain extent. I’ve never seen it become an orgy, but that isn’t to say there aren’t plenty of couples carrying on in semi-private niches.”

She laid a hand on my arm. “Those are fêtes worth attending, it seems.”

“Next year you’ll attend the Palace masque with me.” Next year I’d be King of Terre d’Ange if all went according to plan.

“I would like that very much.”

The days leading up to the Longest Night passed quickly, as all days spent with Anne had an unfortunate tendency to do. It snowed a handful of times, ensuring the grounds were covered in a blanket of white for the Longest Night. I’ve always felt the day lacks a certain something when there is no snow on the ground. Once the pathways were cleared, Anne and I spent some time walking outside. The air was brisk with winter’s chill, but not so cold as to be frigid. I was pleased to see Anne wearing the fur-lined cloak I’d given her, along with a new pair of sturdy boots and warm gloves.

“It really is beautiful, the snow,” she commented as we walked through the gardens. The snow had rendered them a foreign landscape, with the only points of familiarity being the evergreen trees and shrubs. “For all that I complain about it, it is beautiful.”

“It is. I’ve always thought there was somewhat peaceful about it when everything is covered in white after a storm, like a blanket for the sleeping land,” I said, feeling unusually poetic. I suppose my contentment in the moment brought it on.

“My father used to say somewhat similar. When I’d feel sad because all the plants died as the seasons changed, he’d tell me that many of them were only sleeping in the earth and would return again in the spring,” said Anne. I was glad to see her speaking of her father with no trace of sadness in her voice. It was nearly a year since his death and she’d seen fit to confide in me whenever the grief was especially strong. I wished I’d known Gerard Livet better so I could share her grief. My own father had died not so very long ago, and it had been a sudden thing. He’d neglected to call for a chirurgeon after being wounded in a border skirmish and the wound took septic. Maslin d’Aiglemort was nothing if not stubborn to a fault. I’d been with him when it happened and was not expecting to find myself as Duc d’Aiglemort before I was thirty.

I took her gloved hand in mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Do you think your father would approve of what has passed between us?”

She grinned. “If you mean would he approve of me getting with child by you, he would. He knew how happy you make me and so he approved of us.”

“I do wish he was here to see the birth of his grandchild. He and your mother both,” I said gently.

“So do I. What of your family? What will they think of us and our child?”

“Well their opinions hardly matter, not when I am the head of the House. I doubt any of my cousins will say a word against you.” A small smile came to my lips. “My father, were he here, would doubtless be pleased I fathered a child.”

“Indeed.”

“Are you concerned my family will not be welcoming to you?” I inquired.

“The thought crossed my mind once or twice.”

“You shouldn’t trouble yourself over it. I don’t expect you’ll need to see them often.”

Her hand relaxed a little in mine. “I know I’ve been worrying about all of this too much, it’s only that… I fear I won’t fit into your world,” she admitted. At my confused expression, she added, “The parts of your life without me in them.”

I was silent for a moment, taken aback by her words. I’d never thought of it that way, at least not consciously, but it was true enough. There were things Anne did not know and could not know. If things went wrong and my plans were exposed, suspicion might fall on her. That could not happen. By keeping her ignorant of my plans, I protected her. She would not end up like Marc and Bernadette de Trevalion, exiled for their knowledge of Lyonette’s plot. Still, it hurt to keep these secrets from Anne. “That distinction won’t matter once you’re my consort, Anne. You will learn to feel at home in my ‘world’ as you put it over time.”

“I do hope you’re right.” She squeezed my hand. “To think next year we might attend the Palace’s Midwinter Masque together.”

Next year she’d be consort to the King of Terre d’Ange if my plan succeeded. “Indeed we will.”

The Longest Night dawned clear and cold, just the sort of weather I liked. Since Anne and I would be counted as a household once she was my consort, we thought to dress according to a theme for the masque. I would be attired as winter while Anne would be summer. It was her idea and I had to own it was a good one. She had some specific ideas for the costumes, which I relayed to my tailor and seamstress. That surprised me a bit, for I’d never seen Anne to express much in the way of opinions on clothing. I hardly ever gave much thought to it myself, so I was glad to have someone else take charge of it.

We were both quite satisfied with the end results. For my part, I wore a deep forest green doublet and breeches, the shade of pine trees in the depths of winter, accented with silver. My first inclination was to wear all white, but Anne quipped that I was like to blend in with the snow given my coloring. The forest green brocade with silver embroidery was meant to evoke a pine tree with snow in its branches. To complete the costume, I wore a crown fashioned of pine boughs accented here and there with red berries.

Anne loved her costume. “I’ve never worn anything so fine,” she said, running her hands over the silk of her gown. It was the color of honey, with a pattern of fruit and flowers on the bodice and along the hem. Her crown was of flowers and green leaves fashioned from silk. Doubtless she could name all of them; I couldn’t.

I secured a cloak of white velvet around my shoulders with a silver pin. Anne left off admiring her gown to look me over. “You look like a winter spirit come from the heart of the forest. The dark green really does suit your coloring.”

“I didn’t know you paid attention to such things,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Neither did I. I never had much cause to pay attention to such things until now.”

Our costumes were complete with domino masks, mine silver and hers gold. Once they were in place, I held out an arm. Anne took it and together we made our way down to the great hall. Most of the household was already there and they stopped what they were doing to watch us walk down the stairs together, Anne’s hand on my arm. Gasps and whispers could be heard here and there—I daresay we made an impressive pair. “Do they know you’re with child?” I inquired.

“Yes, I imagine so. Word spreads quickly at a small estate such as this.” It was a bit uncomfortable that the household knew, if not exactly surprising. No doubt it was a thrilling bit of gossip.

The decorations I’d noted when I arrived were only the beginning. More had been added since then and the great hall looked entirely unlike I’d ever seen it before. I’d attended several celebrations at Lombelon over the last few years, but none of them had taken place in the great hall. L’Agnacites loved the land and with it came a fondness for outdoor celebrations. But not even they would pass the Longest Night outside. A pair of long tables had been set up on opposite sides of the hall, with ample space in between them for dancing. A fire roared in the large fireplace, keeping the room pleasantly warm. As Anne and I approached the table nearer the fireplace, folk in the crowd paused to bow or curtsy. I knew nearly all of them by name now. There was Thèrese, the head of the kitchen who’d made Camaeline dishes for me. There was Marcel, Anne’s friend and lover before—and also a bit after—she met me. If he had any lingering resentment toward me, he didn’t show it. My men were there as well, casually mingling with the residents of Lombelon. Those among them who regularly accompanied me on my visits had gotten to know the folk of Lombelon and felt at ease attending a fête such as this.

Anne and I took our seats at the center of the table nearest the fireplace. There was nothing like a formal seating arrangement—the higher-ranked members of the household sat closest to us while the rest took what seats were available. The table was laden with a fine selection of dishes. Anne took the time to point out a few of note. “I made sure some of your Camaeline dishes were included,” she informed me.

“Let us see if the other cooks did as good a job preparing them as you did,” I replied as I helped myself to slices of quiche and tarte flambée.

What followed was a Midwinter Masque quite unlike any I’d ever attended. To compare it to the masques at the Palace or Cereus House was as pointless as comparing a rabbit to a swan. They were entirely different experiences, for all that they are both Midwinter Masques. Suffice it to say that the food was quite delicious and I enjoyed the company greatly. Joie flowed freely, along with L’Agnacite wine and the pear brandy no visit to Lombelon would be complete without. I drank a bit more than was my usual want. Anne on the other hand contented herself with a single glass of joie owing to her condition.

When the meal was over, instruments were fetched and several folk left their seats to begin playing. Others moved to the open space between the tables and began to dance. Anne and I watched in comfortable silence for a few minutes. These were not the formal court dances I knew. No, they were the same sort of country dances I’d seen at other celebrations I’d attended at Lombelon. In all likelihood they were traditional L’Agnacite country dances. Each province had its own traditional dances entirely separate from the formal dances found at court. I was well-versed in the Camaeline ones and had more than a passing acquaintance with the Kusheline ones as well. Eventually the lively music gave way to a slower tune. I looked at Anne. “Would you care for a dance?”

“Dance? With you?”

“Of course.”

She blushed a little. “I don’t know anything of formal court dances.”

“Then we’ll start with somewhat simple.” I stood and offered her an arm. “I’ll lead and all you need do is follow.”

She laid a hesitant hand on my arm. “As you wish.”

Together we walked out to the center of the room. Several of the other dancers halted what they were doing to stare at us. Those nearest us moved out of the way to give us space. I took Anne’s hand in mine and laid a hand on her waist. “Put your other hand on my arm,” I instructed, “and try your best to follow me and not step on my feet.”

She smiled. “I think I can manage that.” The musicians took up their instruments and our dance began. I kept it simple, leading Anne across the floor. She was able to keep pace with me without any difficulties. It made me think of how well-matched we were in bed, how attuned we were to each other. As we danced, the crowd around us seemed to disappear until Anne might’ve been the only one there. Her mask completely failed to hide the love that was plain on her face. I could lose myself in the depths of those hazel eyes.

“You’re a good dancer,” she murmured. “I wouldn’t have guessed it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Not even with all those times you’ve watched my sword practice?”

“Well, that isn’t dancing exactly.”

“It’s not so very different from it. The footwork is important.” It wasn’t the first time someone had complemented my dancing. The Shahrizai were surprised to find me a passing good dancer when I arrived to foster among them. More recently Ysandre de la Courcel had praised my dancing skills while dancing with me at a fête. Anne and I danced to several more songs until the hour grew late. “That’s certainly a good start,” I remarked once we’d returned to our seats. “It shouldn’t take you long to learn courtly dances.”

“I suspect not with such a good teacher.”

We were interrupted by the doors of the great hall opening wide to admit the Winter Queen. She looked much the same as other Winter Queens I’d seen, dressed as she was in a ragged cloak and hobbling along with her staff. “Our Winter Queen wears the same costume every year,” Anne remarked. “Same thing with the Sun Prince. All we do is make alterations as needed.”

The lights were extinguished. The doors opened once again to admit the Sun Prince. He tapped the Winter Queen on the shoulder with his spear. She cast off her cloak and the lights were restored. The new year had begun. “Were you ever the Winter Queen?”

“Yes. More than once. What about you? Were you the Sun Prince?”

“Of course. Once the year before I went to the Shahrizai and once the year after.”

Anne lifted a hand to stroke my hair gently. “You must’ve made a fine Sun Prince with your beautiful hair.”

Elua, I loved it when she called my hair beautiful. It was my one vanity. I avoided tying it back specifically so I could show it to its best advantage. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

After the appearance of the Sun Prince, the celebration began to wind down. Many people left the hall to retire for the night. We had no obligation to stay for the rest of the masque and thus made our exit. With the whole staff enjoying the masque, a fire hadn’t already been laid in my bedchamber. I saw to it quickly, then removed my mask and crown. After wearing them for hours, it was a relief to take them off. Anne did the same with hers and a moment later we sat together on the bed. A bottle of joie and two glasses stood on the bedside table. I hadn’t requested it. “Your doing?”

Anne nodded. “I thought we might enjoy some in private.” She uncorked the bottle and filled both glasses. “Joy to you on the Longest Night, Isidore.”

I raised the glass. “All the same to you, Anne. Joy.” I drained the glass in one go. Never let it be said I didn’t learn anything during my association with Prince Baudoin. I took a brief moment to savior the icy bite of the joie. I would easily name it my favorite liqueur if asked. There’s somewhat in it that always reminds me of Camlach, as if it retained some memory of the high places where the snowdrops grew. I set the glass on the table and looked at Anne. She sipped the last of the joie and placed her empty glass beside mine. I kissed her then, tasting the joie on her lips. She returned the kiss with equal ardor and we drank deeply from each other. Our costumes were soon a pile on the floor.

We savored each other that night. I must’ve kissed and stroked every part of her and she did the same to me. Somewhat about the simple fact that she was carrying my child made me even more aroused that I usually was. She was not showing yet—it was too early for that—but I couldn’t help stroking her stomach more than was my usual wont. Anne told me she’d already spoken with the local priestess of Eisheth, who guessed our child would be born in early summer. With luck the impending Skaldi invasion would be over by then and I could return to Lombelon to attend the birth.

I pulled her closer to me until I could feel the entirety of her pressed tight against me. She had exactly the sort of richly-curved figure prized in Camlach for the promise of warmth on the coldest winter nights. I laid a hand on her arse and buried another in her hair as if I could keep her from harm if I held her close enough. My mind was too active from the excitement of the day for me to fall asleep easily. Even after Anne fell asleep I lay awake, my thoughts turning to our child. I tried to imagine what the mingling of my blood with Anne’s would produce. Would our child be more Camaeline or L’Agnacite? Camaeline, I was fairly certain. I was of one of the purest Camaeline bloodlines, after all. But mayhap there’d be a love for gardens in there. A son with my hair and somewhat of Anne in his face. Or mayhap a daughter, but in truth I was more excited by the idea of a son. It made no practical difference—a daughter could inherit as well as a son. We are a civilized people, after all. A son, though—a son I could teach to wield a sword, draw a bow, lead the Allies of Camlach in battle, as my father had taught me the entirety of Camael’s Arts.

With that pleasant thought, I finally drifted off to sleep.

With the Longest Night now passed, my natality was soon upon us. I did not generally want a big fuss made of it, a preference formed after years of the Shahrizai and Baudoin insisting on throwing fêtes for the occasion. This year I was determined to spend the day with Anne. The only thing that disrupted our time together was a message from Melisande, and I quickly dispatched several of my men-at-arms to carry out her request. I had to wonder if she knew about Anne and me. All the local folk did. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if Melisande did as well.

When the day of my natality came, thoughts of Melisande’s request vanished entirely from my mind at the prospect of spending the day with Anne. She insisted on marking the occasion, and I was happy to go along with it. She spent a portion of her time in the kitchen, preparing a special dinner. It consisted of Camaeline dishes, some which I specifically requested. To be able to enjoy some comforts of home while also spending time with Anne was the best birthday gift I could’ve hoped for.

Anne had other gifts for me. “You really did not need to do this,” I said as I followed her into the bedchamber.

“I know. But I wanted to anyway.” She gestured to one of the armchairs by the fireplace, where she’d laid out my gifts. A pair of shirts were draped over the arms of the chair, with a smaller square of cloth resting between them.

“You made me shirts. But how…?”

“I might’ve… borrowed one of your shirts while you were last here so I could get your measurements,” she admitted. “I know they’re not as fine as what you usually wear…”

“They’re just perfect. Thank you, Anne.” The shirts were fairly plain, with little in the way of embellishment on the collars and cuffs. Not that I don’t wear shirts with lace trim on occasion, but it is not my preference. My eyes then shifted to the square of cloth lying on the seat of the chair. It was a handkerchief. A closer look revealed she’d embroidered it. That took me aback for a moment—I hadn’t known Anne had such skill in embroidery. She’d stitched a pair of silver eagles in opposite corners, with pear blossoms at their feet.

“I copied them from the eagles on your standard,” said Anne.

“It’s quite a good likeness.”

“I wanted to give you a lover’s token you might take with you when you ride off to war again.”

Her words fell heavily between us. I’d not spoken of the coming Skaldi invasion to her at all during this visit. Better not to speak of it at all than dwell on what I had to keep hidden from her. I steered the conversation away from the impending invasion. “A very thoughtful gift. I’ll be sure to keep it with me.”

“I’m so pleased you like it.” Anne smiled. “I’ve been quite busy with sewing lately, for I mean to make a quilt for our child.”

“Really? I’ve not seen you doing anything of that sort since I’ve been here.”

“That’s because I’ve been too busy spending time with you.”

I sat on the bed. “Well, you can rest assured our child will have all the blankets he could possibly want.”

She raised an eyebrow. “He?”

“Or she,” I added. “I’ve been thinking I’d like to have a son. The idea of teaching him to wield a sword really appeals to me.”

“Could you not teach a daughter?”

I considered her question a moment before answering. “I could, yes. Camaeline women are taught to defend themselves should they be attacked, but they don’t fight on the battlefield.” I met Anne’s eyes. “You know I wouldn’t love any daughter of ours any less.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she replied, amused, “and in case you were wondering I have no particular preference for a son or daughter.”

I spent most of the winter at Lombelon. Business did call me away from time-to-time, but for the most part I was able to spend much of my time with Anne. There was a sense of urgency in it as winter began to loosen its icy grip on the land. When the days grew warm enough that I judged the nearest pass to be open, I left for Camlach.

It was a difficult parting, the most difficult we’d had thus far.

Soon I would be at war.

Notes

I’ve been writing Kushielfic for 10 years, & this is the 1st time I’ve actually managed to post a Longest Night scene on the Longest Night. Enjoy, & joy to you on this Longest Night!

#kushiel's legacy #simple pleasures #jesatriafic #isidore d'aiglemort #anne livet

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wavesmp3 · 4 years

Text

to infinity (and beyond); jihoon x fem!reader dystopian au (there were more tropes/aus but the draft doesn’t get far enough to touch on any of them lol) wc. 1.3k

a/n: lmao would anyone believe me if i said this world/wip actually came about for sha’s lost for words challenge... like that was two years ago whoops. ngl tho i am pretty sad to let this wip go. it was a nice idea but i really struggle with dystopias. also ‘to infinity (and beyond)’ is probably one of my favorite titles out of all my fics. a/n 2: this is in the same world as ‘before you jump’

***

One of the wrong kind.

Except that you weren’t. The words described the red which was tattooed on your wrist. But the words cut through your flesh, and shred through your ribs straight to your heart. Your mind buzzed with a youthful kind of brilliance. And the red stuck on your wrist did nothing to represent that.

The Minister reminds the nation how life on earth was destroyed by greed, but life on Callademe was built to thrive.

They taught you in school that life must be separated. Into factions of color: white, blue, yellow, red, and brown.

Wish for the wealthy white walls. Or the brilliant blue beaches. You might be enough for the yearning yellow yards. Rue the roach-infested red roads. Curse the day you’re bound to the baffling brown barns.

“The Beyond Infinity Test,” your teacher told you one day after class had been dismissed, “will test your ability to think as if you had been raised inside those wealthy white walls.” And when you questioned how she knew what the test makers wanted to see, she rolled up her sleeve to show a fading white tattoo above the brighter, more recent red one. You assume she failed before they started tattooing over the color of your old faction with the color you tested into.

With humanity, there are an infinite amount of possibilities. We provide the upper classes with a service that will guarantee the best out of infinity.

Is what they announced the day the Better than Infinity Test better known as the soulmate exam was launched. At 21 years of age, the youth of the white and blue factions would be given the opportunity to test for what became known as their “soulmate.” You're left to assume it's only coincidence that their match always happens to reside in blue or white

Good luck

Your teacher told you the day of your 18th birthday a week before the nationwide test date. And with the way her eyes glazed over with something resembling jealousy, you decided ‘good luck’ would be the last words you wanted to hear from her.

To infinity and beyond.

The lady dressed in grey told you after she sat you down in a reclined chair and right before she stuck a needle into your vein.

You fell asleep with the last rays of sunlight flooding through the skylight of your testing room. When you wake up, the skylight is a dark blue adorned with a pale moon. You go home and sneak past your sleeping parents. Sleep doesn’t come that night instead replaced with the uneasy nerves brought by the looming initiation.

Your parents bring you to the embassy building in the red faction the next day once all scores have been finalized. Every year, initiation was held in the embassy building on the second of January. Every year, you watch with shaking hands as your elder classmates receive their colored envelope. Every year your heart sinks when your eyes stumble upon those cursed brown envelopes. Every year you feel a little green at the absence of white envelopes and the abundance of yellow and red.

Every year you watch as friends and family leave the faction you called home, but this year, holding a blue envelope close to your chest, you watch them stay.

***

Your economics professor had called to talk to you after class. You assumed he wished to discuss your latest thesis, so when he hands you an invitation to an elite dinner party in the white faction, you can’t help but gape at the white and blue cardstock invitation.

“You’re my best student,” he tells you, “it would be an honor for you to be my guest. I am determined to show you off to those white tattooed pricks.” You chuckle at his remark, keeping in mind the white rectangle painted onto his wrist. You decide there must be a reason a man from white works in blue.

You bring your eyes up from the invitation, “I’m honored to be considered, but it’s addressed in the white faction.”

He nods at your concern and opens a drawer in his oak desk pulling out a lanyard. “This is your pass into the white faction,” he says, “it only lasts a weekend, so use it well.” He tells you with a mischievous glint in the brown of his eyes. You think you could do plenty with a weekend inside the wealthy white walls.

“It’s this dinner party some colleagues of mine and I host every year around this time in the spring,” he says, leaning against the oak desk, “all of us are professors, most teach in white, some in blue like me, and one in particular teaches in yellow. His students always tend to be the most interesting.” He says with a degrading sense of humor dancing in his tone, you instinctively pull your sleeve a little farther down despite the red that once infested your wrist being completely covered by a beautiful royal blue. You smile and hum at his remark out of courtesy anyways. After all, you aren’t red anymore. After all, you pretend that you never were. He holds out the lanyard to you, “Please say you’ll come, my second option doesn’t compare to what you’ll bring to the dinner table.”

You nod accepting his invitation and take the lanyard into you hands. Later that day you go shopping, for clothes that’ll cover the blue on your wrist, and the red in your blood.

***

You spend your first night inside the luxurious white walls exploring. You end up in an art museum. A man next to you, both boring at the same piece of art. A mutual feeling of awe yet confusion evident in you.

“Fond of art?” Asks the boy next to you. You take note of his casual attire and the white on his wrist before responding.

You hum, “Not particularly,” you hadn’t planned on saying much else, but when you turn to face him his eyes are trained on you with a tinge of curiosity swimming in the depths of them. He stares as if he can see right through you. Not just through your sleeve which covers your blue tattoo but also past the layers of your skin to the bright, cursed red in your blood. You think this is what it must mean to be born and raised inside the white walls. You assume they can smell the foreigner off you. Your only fear is that they smell red instead of blue. You look away first, “I’m not one for abstract. It eludes me.”

He nods. “And then music?”

“What about it?” You fiddle with your ticket.

“How do you like your music?” He asks as if it’s coffee. You think for a moment. In the red faction, listening to music wasn’t very common. Of course you could find it here and there. But the general idea of music and rhythm seemed to escape the cramped red streets. But in the past year, you’ve immersed your mind with the music that seemed to be so popular within the blue and white factions. It seemed regular for many to grow up having played and learned a musical instrument. It seems safe to say that those of the white faction grew up to master most likely several instruments. And because of the judgmental nature of those in the upper factions that has become apparent to you within the past year, you allow yourself to feel a little foolish when the next words slip from the corners of your mouth.

“I like it all.”

This time he doesn’t nod. Or hum. Or ask anything new.

And so you move on to the next piece of art with the red inside you dripping off your fingertips and falling to the clean, white floors.

***

#unfinished wip #mine #wip.svt

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taste-thewaste · 5 years

Text

There’s only one bed-Madderton fic

Title:There’s only one bed Ship: Madderton Word count: ~2800 A/N: So I’ve been seeing a ton of stuff on here about the sometimes overused trope of ‘there’s only one bed’ so the characters have to share and I thought it might be fun to put my Madderton spin on it ;) This is fluff on fluff, friends! The boys just love kissing and being together lol. I hope everyone enjoys.

-------

Richard didn’t think he would ever get over the sight of New York City lit up at night, the way every building glowed, the billboards, the flashing signs. It was by no means the first ‘big city’ he’d ever been in, but it always felt different, every time he was here. He always felt different, always felt waves of potential washing over him whenever he came here; he couldn’t explain it. He tucked his legs up to his chest and circled his arms around them, relaxing into the sofa and just staring out the large picture window in his hotel room.

He knew he should get some rest, big day tomorrow. It was why he’d begged off of going out with Taron that evening, to get some rest, and yet here he was, up later than he’d expected, looking out at the evening. He could hardly believe he was here. He could hardly believe this was his life. He was a dreamer, Richard was, and this was all he’d dreamed of for years. He’d made it, and he could still hardly believe it.

He was so focused on what he was thinking about that the unexpected loud knocking that came on his door made him nearly fall off the couch in surprise. He looked over at the door to his suite, hoping that it was just somebody lost on their way back to their own room. A moment later, as if the person on the other side of the door could read his mind, the loud knocking rang out again.

“Oy, Rich, it’s me, open up, for the love of God!”

What the hell was Taron doing outside his room at half past 11?

Richard pushed himself off the sofa and padded over to the door, yanking it open and immediately biting the inside of his cheek to try to stifle his laughter. Taron stood in front of him, soaking wet and scowling. His white t-shirt clung to his body, leaving little to the imagination; his green plaid flannel pajama pants were similarly wet, pasted to his legs and unleashing little rivulets of water that drip-dropped onto the hotel floor. Richard finally lost the battle of not laughing as a short, sharp guffaw burst forth from his mouth. Taron looked positively ridiculous.

“D’you think you could continue laughing at me after I come inside?” Taron asked, a slight edge to his voice and his scowl deepening. Richard chuckled and stepped aside, allowing his dripping wet mate into the suite, barely registering that Taron was carting his suitcase with him.

“What the hell happened to you?” Richard asked, shutting the door and throwing the lock. Taron wrung his t-shirt out on the floor, leaving a puddle at his feet.

“The fucking fire sprinklers in my room started going off and wouldn’t stop! Everything’s soaked, and they can’t figure out what’s wrong. The hotel’s fully booked because of the premiere so they can’t move me anywhere, but I told them I could stay with a friend. Is that alright?” Taron asked, looking up and finally meeting Richard’s eyes. His stomach did the briefest of backflips, the way it always did when T’s eyes met his own, and he tried, again, to push it away.

“‘Course you can stay here, no worries,” Rich said, offering up a smile and waving him inside. “You’re always welcome.”

Taron chuckled. “Well, we won’t be here for long, Dickie, but I certainly appreciate the sentiment. I’m having a shower.” Taron dug through his suitcase briefly and loped off towards the bathroom, clean, dry clothes in hand. Richard resisted the urge to follow him.

It wasn’t until Taron had already been in the shower for several moments that it occurred to Richard that there was only one bed in the suite.

Their hotel was ostensibly fancier than many, and the sofa he’d been casually lounging on when Taron had knocked on the door-the way that t-shirt had clung to his body, good Lord, Richard thought-didn’t pull out into a sleeper. He checked just to be sure, but found nothing but couch springs underneath the cushions. He supposed he could sleep on the sofa, but it was dreadful uncomfortable simply to lie on…

In the middle of his contemplation, Taron emerged from the bathroom, backlit by the fluorescent lighting and releasing a rolling fog of steam from inside. He was clad in nothing but a tight-fitting black t-shirt and a matching pair of underwear, and he looked completely comfortable in himself, as though it was nothing in the world for him to show up at Richard’s hotel suite in the middle of the evening, take a shower, and emerge with no pants on.

“Forget your pants?” Rich asked, thanking whatever God was up there that his voice hadn’t trembled on any of the words, giving away his nerves.

“I’ve no dry sleep pants, and who cares? It’s just us,” Taron said with a simple shrug, and Richard marveled at the way he could just make any situation, no matter what it was, seem simple. Taron rubbed a towel through his short hair, drying it off a bit. “What’re you doing awake, eh? You bailed on going out with me tonight so I thought I’d find you all curled up and asleep.”

Richard shrugged, the tiniest blush rising to his cheeks. “I was just about to when you knocked.”

Taron ambled over to him, dropping the towel on the floor as he went. “Dickie needs his beauty rest before the premiere tomorrow?” he teased, pinching Richard’s cheek just slightly.

Rich resisted the urge to grab Taron by the hips, drag him close, bite his lower lip. God, he was just so pretty, Taron was, and cheeky, and lovely. Where the hell was his head going tonight?

Richard cleared his throat, tried to think of dreadful topics to keep his mind from going where it was going. “Well, we have a tiny problem. There’s only one bed in here, and this sofa doesn’t pull out. It’s uncomfortable but I could sleep on it and you could take the bed,” he offered.

Taron looked at the bed, then at the sofa, then back at the bed before looking up at Richard. “We can both sleep in the bed, looks like there’s room,” he said, gesturing towards the queen size bed. Richard’s stomach did a significantly stronger backflip than normal.

“Both of us in the bed?” Richard asked, mentally kicking himself for stuttering over the words. “The same bed?”

Taron laughed and stretched, his t-shirt riding up ever-so-slightly and showing his tummy. “Yes, the same bed. Do you have a problem with that?”

Richard shook his head quickly and furiously, too quickly, too furiously. He ran his hands through his hair, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks again. “No, no problem. There’s plenty of room.”

Taron started to turn down the covers on what he’d decided would be his side of the bed, chuckling all the while. “I mean, we’ve rolled around naked for hours on camera before. I think we can manage to catch a good night’s rest in the same bed for one evening.”

“Shut up, you cheeky bastard,” Rich said, turning down his side and crawling in, pretending to play it cool. He had no doubt that Taron could tell how nervous he was, though, if the wry grin on his face was any indication as he hopped into the bed, too. Richard snuggled down deep under the covers, keeping himself as still as possible, staying as close to the edge of the bed as possible. He was acutely aware of himself, of his body, of the space he occupied. He’d never been more nervous yet excited at the same time, or more tense. Taron looked over at him, the grin still on his face, before going, “Oh,” and hopping out of bed to turn the lights off. He hopped right back in, just as gracefully.

Richard felt himself instantly relax with the lights off, even though the bright lights of the city below them meant the room wasn’t completely dark. The light bled through the thin curtains that Richard hadn’t drawn all the way, and he looked up and found Taron gazing at him. He was still smiling, but it was less of a teasing smile and one of...fondness, if Richard wasn’t misreading things.

“What?” Richard asked, the near-darkness, the closeness making him whisper. “Why are you looking at me?”

“I like looking at you,” Taron whispered back, and Rich couldn’t tell completely, but he thought there might be some pink to Taron’s cheeks.

Richard felt a wave of boldness crash over him, and he whispered back, “I like looking at you, too.”

Taron nodded slightly, and said, “I’m nervous about tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like we haven’t done it before. I just..the more we do this, the more I think this film could really be something, Rich, y’know? I know we haven’t made the next...I don’t know, Forrest Gump or something, but this film could really resonate with people. I think it will. We’ve made something special, and the people it touches are going to be grateful for it. It just adds some pressure, I suppose.” Taron shrugged a little, his eyes gazing off across the room, lost in thought.

Richard bit his lower lip and looked at Taron. “My favorite thing about you is how passionate you are. I’ve never seen anyone put so much of themselves into a role. If this movie is something special, it’s because of you.”

Taron’s eyes moved back onto Richard’s. “Thanks,” he said softly, and the two lapsed into quiet. The only sound was the muffled noise of cars rushing by on the streets below, and the slow even breathing of both of them. Richard felt his anxieties quell, the backflips in his belly still, his entire body fall calm. An hour ago he’d been ruminating on this life he got to live, and if you’d asked him how sharing a bed with Taron would make him feel, he wouldn’t have said calm.

That’s what he felt, though. He felt calm and content. In any other situation, it would’ve been weird for he and Taron to just look at each other, but that was what they were doing and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Finally, after what felt like ages, Taron broke the silence.

“Thanks for letting me stay over,” he said quietly, and (with a slightly shaking hand, Rich noticed), Taron reached out and touched Richard’s face, stroking the soft pad of his thumb over Richard’s cheek. Richard breathed in deeply, his heart fluttering in his chest.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, and Taron drew his hand away like he’d been burned.

“I just--I’m sorry,” he said quietly. It was one of the few times he’d ever seen Taron nervous; the boy was perpetually sunny and confident. Richard drew on a small well of strength, and reached out and grabbed Taron’s hand. He laced their fingers together and squeezed gently.

“Don’t be sorry,” Richard said, and Taron nodded, reaching his hand out again after letting go of Richard’s to stroke his face again.

“Rich, I...can I…” Taron muttered, and he tilted his face towards Richard’s and kissed him, so gently that it was almost as if it didn’t happen, his lips just lightly brushing the other man’s. It was enough, though. It was enough to wake them both up, to send tiny zaps of electricity traveling down their spines. Rich wriggled closer to Taron, ungraceful in his need to be closer to the man he was sharing a bed with. Taron leaned his forehead against Richard’s, casting his eyes downward, unable to look at him.

“I’ve liked you for a while,” Taron confessed, his voice husky with the quiet and desperation of the words he was expressing. Taron was not a nervous person, and yet, the idea of confessing to Richard what he’d been feeling for so long was...maddening and terrifying. He couldn’t stand the idea of being vulnerable like this and being shot down.

Richard reached out and tilted Taron’s face up, so he was looking directly into his ocean blue eyes. “I’ve liked you, too,” he said softly, and that was enough to break the spell of the gentle calm between them. Taron’s lips were on his, deep, powerful, almost aggressive, and he was answering back just as strongly. Their teeth clashed together and their bodies curved in towards each other. Richard ran his hands up Taron’s shirt, gripping the other man’s hips and dragging him closer; their legs twined together and in the back of Richard’s mind, he thought of how similar this was in some ways to the scene they’d filmed together. Taron bit down on his lower lip and Rich moaned, lightly.

They rutted against each other like a couple of teenagers, and Richard thought that he hadn’t felt anything so good in ages. They kissed with no expectations, with wild abandon, and when it was done, it was done. Taron took Richard in his arms and Richard nuzzled into him, curving his body towards Taron and tucking himself in neatly. He laid his head against the soft cotton of Taron’s t-shirt and Taron dropped a kiss absent-mindedly on the top of Richard’s head. Their breathing was synced up, both of them breathing rather heavily, and he was warm. He felt safe, and seen, and known.

“You are exceptional,” Taron whispered after a moment’s silence, and Rich knew in his heart that his words weren’t referring to anything physical they had just done. He knew, somehow, that Taron was referring to him as a person, not just his body, and he could’ve cried.

-------

Morning came, as it always does, sunlight filtering in through the room. The alarm that Richard had set prior to Taron’s arrival blared, rousing both of them unpleasantly from the warm, comforting sleep they’d been enjoying. Richard was still curved into Taron, their legs entwined and his hand on Taron’s belly. He rolled over and smacked the alarm clock as hard as he could, silencing the annoying sound.

Taron stretched and let out a low moan, opening his eyes and blinking sleepily. A slow smile spread across his face as he looked at Richard, who smiled back at him. Now that it was light out and the day had come, if you’d asked Richard if the night before had happened, he might not have been able to answer yes. He couldn’t be sure, it had been so gentle and like the answer to a long-wanted dream he’d been having.

“Morning, sunshine,” Taron said, sleep still clouding his voice. Richard grinned.

“Mornin’.”

“Ready for today?” Taron asked, kissing Richard softly and enjoying the pink flush that rose to Richard’s cheeks.

“Suppose, I’ll have you there to keep me calm,” Richard said cheekily. Taron nodded and rolled out of bed.

“I guess I should head back to my room, hair and makeup are going to meet me there soon-ish. But we could have breakfast first, if you want?” Taron said, finding his old crumpled pants on the floor and pulling them on.

“Breakfast would be nice,” Richard said, getting out of bed himself and then stopping short. “Hold on, you can’t meet them there, your room is flooded, isn’t it?”

Taron froze, a delightfully evil grin spreading onto his face. “Well, the thing is…”

Richard’s one eyebrow shot up quizzically. “The thing is…?”

“I was thinking about you last night after you bailed on me and I was feeling bold so I…” He trailed off lightly.

Richard sighed. “Taron.”

“Okay, okay. I sort of made up the story about my room being flooded so I could come see you,” Taron said, a tiny laugh slipping out.

Richard couldn’t help but smile, seeing how clearly pleased Taron was with himself. “You made it up?” he asked incredulously.

“Well, yeah,” Taron said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Why didn’t you just...text me, or come by?” Richard asked.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to, I don’t know, I was nervous,” Taron babbled, blushing just a bit. Richard went over to him and impulsively pulled Taron into his arms, pressing their bodies against each other. Richard kissed Taron’s temple gently.

“I wanted you to. Promise,” Richard murmured and Taron snuggled into him briefly. After a few moments, Taron reluctantly pushed himself away.

“Alright. Really have to get going unfortunately, I don’t think we can do breakfast. I’ll see you soon,” Taron said, kissing Richard softly and turning to leave.

“One last thing, Taron?” Richard called, and Taron paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“Yes, love?” Taron asked.

“If your room wasn’t really flooded...then how’d you get sopping wet before you came over here?”

“Oh, that. Well, I got in the shower with my clothes on, obviously,” Taron said, shrugging and waving before exiting the room, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

He’s mad, Richard thought. Then, he smiled to himself. And he’s mine.

#my fic #Madderton fanfiction #taron egerton fanfiction #richard madden fanfiction #fluff fluff fluff

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monstaxdirtywonk · 5 years

Text

The meal is served

Genre : smut, roommate au

Member : Minhyuk X fem!reader

Synopsis: You are crushing on Minhyuk and people think he does too but you don’t really get together till a meal is served...

People knew. It was that obvious you liked him and he liked you. There were remarks here and there, dirty lil jokes and suggestive words that you brushed away in fear they might grow. You couldn’t ruin this friendship but most importantly you didn’t want to make things awkard with your roommate. Just imagine how bad they would be if he’d know you have feelings for him. He’d probably close himself, avoid talking to you about more personal issues and even stop going topless around the house. This would be good for your sanity but bad for your masochist side. It is painful to see the man you love semi-naked and still not be able to make love with him but I suppose it’s better than nothing. Your friend Maggie adviced you to do the same. She was sure he had feelings for you, thus wearing something that showed skin would bring him over the edge. Over the edge of your lips, you wished that edge to be it. You had nothing to lose, truth be told. After all you had plenty of excuses, most important it was your home and people like to be casual and comfy. It was around spring too, weather getting hotter just like your desire for Minhyuk. Perfect plan.

You wondered around the living room, positioning yourself on the sofa. You didn’t want to go all out since this would be awfully suspicious. You wore an oversized shirt but a pair of shorts just enough tease to his imagination. Minhyuk’s key entered the hole (^^) and turned the locker, opening and throwing his bag on the other sofa nearby the one you were on. His eyes widen a little bit but the moment you looked at him, his gaze moved lower and elsewhere not wanting to make it known he was shocked. You smiled to yourself, at least you had earn a reaction.

“I’ll watch American Guy, do you wanna join me ? This show is hilarious.’

Minhyuk gulped, his Adam’s apple prominent making you gulp as well. Many thoughts going through his mind, ones that weren’t family friendly.

“Mmm I- I have to do some work, I’m b-busy you know so I don’t have much time to...”

“Ohhhh, come on. Spend some time with me. We are like strangers instead of room mates. I promise I will stay up all night and help you out If you give in.”

All night? No, nights are even more dangerous. Urges are awake when most people sleep.

“NO” He shouted panicked.

“I’m sorry I shouted, I don’t want to have you up all night- this sounds wr- wrong. Anyways, I’ll watch the show with you for a while.”

Victory. This might lead somewhere. You wanted to contain your hopes but couldn’t, this man makes you crazy. Your heart was beating faster when he came closer, his natural scent hitting your nose making you melt by his warmth. He couldn’t contain his eyes and you knew it, you were seeing him gazing but didn’t want to make it even harder(^^) for him and just played it dumb. He was moving uncomfortably, his bulge seemed prominent despite the fact he was wearing baggy pants.

“I’m gonna take a shower. It was good while it lasted.”

You didn’t respond and let him go. What is it that turned him on so much? His imagination ran wild seeing you like this ? Maybe you were hoping that he felt the same way you did ,but this wasn’t the case after all.

Your plan was over. You did try but he didn’t seem intrested. Minhyuk was probably shocked since you weren’t used to wearing short clothing. That was all, You wanted to dissapear but at least your secret was safe, right ?

This time he had his surprise for you when you came back from work. He was in the kitchen, cooking wearing an apron but nothing inside. No top to be found there. This man would drive you insane, there is no other way. You said a rushed hello and ran straight to your room in order to avoid this view.

“Heyyyyy. Where are you going Y/N?”

“To my room. I’m super tired and want to sleep.”

“But I prepared dinner for you. I thought you’d enjoy having a warm meal of your favorite chicken a la creme with pasta.”

“It looks delicious.” you said looking at him, unknowingly talking about him instead of the meal.

“Sit and let me serve you then.”

He was serving looks for sure. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Minhyuk didn’t have a particularly buff body but his proportions were great and he had lean muscle from dancing. His beautiful golden hued skin, paired amazingly with his long blonde locks making him angelic. An angel that made you sin.

You sat right next to him looking at the plate that made your stomach growl. Since Minhyuk was basically boyfriend material, he was an excellent cook on top of everything else. You wondered at times if he was good at other certain activities you wanted to take part in. He served another plate for him, wanting to make sure it was good.

“Don’t eat yet. I have to make sure it’s not a complete failure.”

You smiled knowing damn well it would be great. The fork moved closer to his plump lips and he had a messy bite of pasta. The creme made him a mess as it couted his pout and his pink tongue swirled around to collect some before wiping it with a tissue. Your face was tomato red and it wasn’t by how warm the kitchen turned after oven cooking. You felt panic rushing over you, unable to think straight. Maybe moving would be a good idea after all because there is no way in hell you’d keep living in this house with Minhyuk in it. Resisting something you want so much, something that is right next to you is a torture. Your appetite was lost. You excused yourself and went straight into your room, bed sinking in by your weight as you stared up the celling.

You had been sexually frustrated since yesterday, this however made you want to explode. Your hands found their way to your womanhood, teasing the clothed heat and making circles directly on your clit. Your lips parted slightly, you moaned in anticipation and his name left your mouth too. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, he was the source of your restless nights and wildest sex dreams. If only he wanted you just as much....

Minhyk huffed in an empty kitchen. His apettite was lost as well for the very same reason yours did too. He had feelings for you. Major ones. He would never picture himself making dinner for someone, especially given the fact he had been so busy lately and wanted to rest. However, his thoughts often wondered around you, about you and for you. He didn’t want you to be stressed, lonely or sad. Minhyuk wanted to please you. In multiple ways. He didn’t want to ruin what you have though. When he saw you, wearing those tiny shorts, he wanted to jump you right there on the sofa. Still, even if he had to stay a friend, he wanted to be a good one and decide to go and talk to you.

Approaching your room, he was able to hear some sounds unable to point out what they truly were. Those sweet like honey sounds were your moans, his cock activated right at that moment wanting more. You mumbled a ‘please’ and ‘more’, his hand formed a fist, you were probably having phone sex with someone else. Who was that bastard that made you moan like that. Minhyuk moved even closer, his ear glued to your closed door. It was at this moment, he heart his name. His cock twitched, his vision blurred and he couldn’t believe in his ears. Min opened the door in a rush, turning to face a sight he will never forget. Υour legs were wide open, fully clothed humping your womanhood against your hand. Cheeks flushed and hair messy, eyes glossy with arousal. The best part ? This was all for him, created by him. The most artistic mess created, the most sinful picture he’ll see in his lifetime.

Your eyes were wide by shock, unable to form a word to ask him why is he there in the first place. Minhyuk didn’t talk as well. He thought to himself words are over, it’s time for actions. He kneeled near the edge of your bed, were your legs had been placed. You felt shy and closed them but he was faster than you and stopped this all together. There was no way you’d slip away from him now. He wanted you more than humanly possible. His hands came to your crotch, feeling the wet cloth smirking to himself. Min went painfully slow, the back of his hand only teasing you. He wanted to hear you beg.

“Do you want more baby?”

You nodded in desperation. Minhyuk moved upwards, meeting your face and kissing your lips agressively. You didn’t know you wanted something that much, till this something happened. His long fingers went into your panties, skin to skin contact. He flicked your clit making you whine to hurry. However, Minhyuk wanted to take his time. He didn;t even know how he was able to wait but he had to make the best out of this moment. Your panties were lowered, his fingers hacving better access now coated with your arousal. All this was for him and him only. Your moans filled his ears, an otherworld like melody. The more you moaned, the faster he was moving finally making you come undone, your chest heavy and cheeks flushed cherry pink. Minhyuk removed your tank top and admired your chest, tracing the soft skin and placing love bites all over the place. A reminder of his love making, a reminded you were more than just friends. You placed your hand against his swatpants, his dick errect and proud. His eyes grew big from shock by this sudden and daring move. He finally stood up, removing the offensive material off his gorgeous physique. Min placed himself to your entrance, coating his manhood with your juices and making his way inside your body, your mind and your heart. Feeling full, you moaned for him throwing your head back. He thrusted after a while, easily and slowly afraid this might hurt you. Your reaction was good, this encouraged him more, his speed growing along with the orgasmic euphoria within you. A couple of thrust more and you came again, your tightening making him do so too. His body collapsed on top of your own, his breathing hard. You couldn;t believe what just happened, maybe you had fallen asleep after all.

“Tell me this is not a dream.” You broke the silence.

“Sometimes reality can be better than dreams.”

#monsta x #monsta x smut #minhyuk #minhyuk smut #minhyuk fluff #roommate au

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popculture-etc · 4 years

Text

Kenny Rogers, Adam Schlesinger,...coping with 2020

Worst year ever although there were some good.

It’s too early yet for me to do a quick look back on what 2020 is like here as we’re only going to be in the first of December tomorrow (it’s Nov 30 here) but I just have to as two losses this year broke me. Kind of, well, especially the second one.

You see, before East Asian pop, Jpop and Kpop, Western pop culture was my thing. It still is and this pandemic has made me go back to that recently starting with...the Beach Boys (their westcoast sound caught me, hook, line, and sinker and I wasn’t very fond of the Beatles to begin with...to be completely honest) I’m currently chillin’ to right now, as I write this post. I’m really weak to the westcoast sound. Beach sound/s in general, rather. I’m a big fan of the beach where nature goes, for one. Since some time, a few years ago, deep chill and tropical house music has been my go-to when I want to chill or calm myself down after an outburst of sorts and I put them on when I just feel meh, especially on Fridays. When I dream of being by the sea, the beach or in some island on my own. I live in a country with a lot of beaches and the Visayas here is basically island region Philippines, lol. Like most people, I listen to music according to mood just like the way I dress according to mood. And...it’s no wonder, really that I’m so into the Beach Boys now. RIP the Beatles. My dad played some songs of theirs on the guitar or so but the hold they have on me waned later on and I just think now how overrated they were back then. They did have good songs but when talking of good music, as in really good that it retains the same sound style or so, it’s the Beach Boys for me. Brian Wilson is the man despite his issues and personal struggles.

Anyway, we’re going quickly off tangent. I’ll save the Beach Boys fangirling for another day. lol.

I grew up with western pop culture rife all around me thanks to my American, cowboy country and folk music listening dad, my Carpenters-loving mom and then, college-aged aunts who’d made me see the Titanic film more than my fingers could count---the third is clearly an exaggeration but well...some of it is true and they were why I got into American films like Pretty Woman (we have this in good ol’ VHS in our family home, my grandparents’ in Jasaan), Mannequin, Ghost etc. in the late 80s, coming into the early 90s. So, tired of all the kdrama and uninteresting kvariety shows on tvn and the rebranded local channel, Kapamilya (long story for what we formerly know as ABS-CBN, the nation’s a mess right now and our gov’t’s just...ick!), I’d retreated to my cave and got into old tv shows I’d watched as a kid instead like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Charmed and it’s been, well, moving on from there. I’m checking out Twin Peaks later. I’ve been watching old Hollywood films too. Some revisits on this include: Casablanca, Gone With The Wind, and especially A Streetcar Named Desire will always and forever be my favorite. Very young and cute and good looking Marlon Brando, ugh. I have some others in the stash which include Bonnie and Clyde I’ll be getting into much, much later, maybe over the weekends and holidays. In sum, I have a long history with western pop culture, especially America’s, more than I have with Japan’s and South Korea’s. The latter being very, very recent so it doesn’t really compare as much.

Let’s get right down to it...

So 2020 had us lose Kenny Rogers to natural causes on March 20 in a hospice and after, Adam Schlesinger to COVID 19 complications on April 1. I know the latter as the songwriter of The Wonders’ That Thing You Do from the film sharing the same song title. I know Kenny Rogers well because my dad listens to him over and over in the car. In pretty much the same way, I know the words to Islands in the Stream by heart and I accept and revere it as one of the best, if not THE BEST country-pop duet songs of all time between Kenny and Dolly Parton...as far as country and pop music in the US of A’re concerned, of course. Miley and Shawn Mendez’s cover of it I’d seen recently was alright but nothing still beats the OG one, as always. With music, it’s just, really always the case.

Kenny departing from us March this year was alright. He was well cared for in a hospice and at the right age too, to leave us and this mess of a world behind for the afterlife. Sounds grim but not really. Heh. He died of natural causes so we know he was at peace and accepted then that his time has come. Fans and long-time listeners of his should also be at peace with this knowledge. I don’t consider myself a fan but since he’s been around so much because my dad plays his songs in the car often, I’m the same. I’ve accepted his passing away early this year. He’s lived his life well and given us good music to listen to should we like to remember him and his works and celebrate his life and legacy doing so.

Schlesinger’s case was way worse because, well, COVID 19. And it’s well...I guess we all saw it coming, me included, that I’d just learned, watching the one of many national English news on ANC that ‘pandemic’ is the word of the year according to Merriam-Webster. Timely, huh? Yep. Predictable, really. Sarcasm noted here.

So if someone ever asks what 2020 was about, we only have to say that according to Merriam-Webster, it’s the global (COVID 19) pandemic. Short, not-so-sweet, succinct, and grim. Yep.

This one, Schlesinger’s case, is something I still find difficult to accept. He was only 52 years old! He was at the prime of his life and had some projects still he was working on at the time of his passing so WHY?! I suppose that’s all of us who followed him and his extensive work on tv, film, the stage and his own band, Fountains of Wayne when we heard news he’s passed away due to COVID 19 complications. It’s definitely me now though I learned of it late. Heh.

To cope with the sadness of losing Schlesinger, gone too soon at 52 years old and with an impressive Hollywood tv, stage, film resume to his name since and his own band’s, Fountains of Wayne (FoW) really good discography, by the way, I’ve been listening to FoW’s Welcome Interstate Managers---all of the contents of said album/record---and That Thing You Do’s OST with the Beach Boys’ Sounds of Summer Best of in between. My favorite song on Welcome Interstate Managers is the sarcastic take on real life as an everyday worker in sales, Bright Future in Sales. As much as I like chill sounds where music goes, I like me some music with lyrics jolting us back to grim reality in much the same way I like films (indies, mostly, or lesser known short and full-length ones) that tackle social issues not frequently discussed in public or so but we are aware are there, still plaguing much of today’s society. I live for cynical, satirical, ironic, and even hyperbolic stuff about real life actually. It may be why I’m so entrenched and attached to the era where we all hated ourselves---the 90s. Although one would say much of that sentiment or feeling did carry itself to the 2000s, though. I don’t know about you, but until now, I still hate or have heavy dislike for myself and everything else around me, especially our gov’t or current admin here in the Philippines, and people in general so I don’t think it ever really goes away. And going off tangent again for the nth time today.

Anyway, my 1996 was That Thing You Do on HBO in our household...on and off along with other 90s films like The Craft, Clueless, Jawbreakers (I think this still plays in Cinemax from time to time) so of course losing Schlesinger also was...rather, is hard. He’s done so much and he was supposed to be working on more and he’s left such a deep mark here for us, avid fans of American pop culture...I suppose, even the casual ones. Aside from his That Thing You Do, I’d also seen Josie and the Pussycats at some point. I don’t remember when, where...though I did watch some episodes of the cartoon on Cartoon Network (CN) so of course, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the film of it as well. He worked on a track or some tracks there, too.

2020 sucks. COVID 19 sucks. This global pandemic sucks. But at least there’re films, tv shows, music, stage musical plays turned movies (Jonathan Larson’s Tick, Tick...Boom! is coming to us soon with Andrew Garfield in the lead---I’m wary of Garfield being a forgettable actor since The Amazing Spider Man because Dane Dehaan was what made that for me, to be quite honest so I’m not so sure of him being Jon here and as a self-respecting Larson fan since Rent, I’d rather they casted Neil Patrick Harris/NPH since he was in the London stage for this way back anyway...) to keep us entertained and fine until then. What would it take for ‘rona, and I’m not talking about the American Corona beer here that’s really popular in the west coast, to go away? I, like the rest of you in self isolation or quarantine, tend to think so but I don’t think we’ll have any answer to that until the vaccines are well underway by spring next year. Or at least, that’s what health authorities and scientists tell us anyway. I get reminded of it often in the news and I only tune in to that once in a while now because even that, following that daily, breaks my mental faculties down due to stress and pressure and all and I can’t have that when I still have so much, at the back of my mind, to do.

But anyway, time to conclude this one with one of my favorite The Wonders songs, All My Only Dreams just to end on a good note, better than the last paragraph’s ending at least and to remember Schlesinger as well that we’d lost this year along with plenty others we’d met in passing who’ve also left this world especially due to COVID 19 complications. I know we know a lot of those. For me, it’s a distant relative or family member I’d known since young but don’t have particular fluffy bunny feelings for because of some things that happened between the guy and me growing up in the NCR/Caloocan City to be exact. There’s also my good friend and former co-worker’s only remaining parent, her dad and a few more, I’m sure. So I hope 2021 would be better but I doubt it...very much. It’s still looking pretty dim, grim and bleak from here, where I’m currently standing in 2020.

Before we really end though, COVID 19 is definitely not a hoax. It hasn’t been since the first cases started in Wuhan, China. It’s just, only been getting worse and still continue to claim lives and spread to more people even those at home. So as someone who comes from a household of mostly medical workers or health care workers here, we should really be very careful about and around it. Let’s take the necessary health protocols seriously like wearing a mask out and maybe the face shield too and always keeping the sanitizers, alcohols in our bags among others---hygiene and sanitation, disinfection. It may come off really anal of me and I am not anal (I don’t like people with Type A personalities in the first place, lol...I’m just a very cautious Virgo, really, and a Type X---mix of Type C and D personalities) but seriously, SERIOUSLY, I can’t stress this enough, COVID 19, the virus SARS-COV2, that causes it is real. Very real and once it’s in your system, it can go the fatal, deadly way or just the mild and you’ll recover later anyway way. It’s not picking which people should die next and which should not, really. It’s really just there making a mess of things that are already messy since the beginning. My point being, it’s just better if we don’t spread it or are careful enough not to contract it with following health protocols set by health experts, scientists to help us get by this...pandemic.

Well here’s to 2020 being over soon and 2021 creeping in on us soon enough.

P.S.

Billie Armstrong of Greenday upped a cover of That Thing You Do as a tribute to Adam and the youtube live of the Wonders coming together again to pay tribute to and celebrate Adam’s life may still be up on the ‘tube. I have yet to see the latter but enjoyed the former. They are just so...sweet and precious. Ugh. Adam Schlesinger, gone too soon indeed. :(

PPS

Another songwriter/contributor in the TTYD OST passed away last year, too. Rick Elias. Cause of death is brain cancer. I had a friend from college, young and so full of life and dreams, who passed away due to the same thing so I’m kind of aware how this goes. Ugh. Cancer sucks. All of these are just so...sad. Depressing, actually.

youtube

#Adam Schlesinger #Kenny Rogers #american pop culture #USA #United States of America #That Thing You Do #Fountains of Wayne #music #entertainment #Hollywood #loss #COVID 19 #2020 #2020 is the worst year ever #what's next 2021?#A year in music #a year in american pop culture #a year in american rock and roll and pop music

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mayrubyy · 5 years

Text

Clouded (m)

➻ Pairing - Chanyeol x Reader

➻ Genre - Angst

➻ Word Count - 4.4k

➻ Rating - (M) | Masterlist | Status - Ongoing

Warning! this contains mature and angst themes. (don't worry nobody's going to die) but please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with the said themes and if you’re under 18.

also, I want to thank @yeoldotcom for being a sweetheart and helping me out whilst working on this series. Go show Zee some love! ♡

☾ Part One

Every time he hooked his arm around and told you ‘love wasn’t real’ you believed it. He was right─ love cannot be real and so you agreed. Until you realized how wrong all of this was. He didn’t believe in love and neither did you. Yet, every time his lips pressed into yours, it gave you the kind of rush nobody else could. Even when your heart was broken, he was there to help you heal and piece it back together. So much for mending it until he earned the privilege to shred it back to pieces again. His crooked smile before he left you without a trace, his words gnawing at your heart like venom seeping through you, slowly killing every fiber of your fragile being.

He warned you and it was true.

Love was never easy with Park Chanyeol─ it was nothing but a clouded mess of emotions, mercilessly fogging up your heart and your mind in the worst possible ways with no escape.

And turns out, it wasn’t real all along, just like he had told you from the very beginning.

“How conflicting,” you gasped under your breath, digging your balled fists into the large pockets of your–his–hoodie. Oversized and fluffy, its purpose was to keep you warm in this cloudy and damp hour, not remind you of him.

“Get out of my head. Ugh.“

If you earned a penny every time he crossed your mind, you wouldn’t be standing here sulking like a pigeon. Do pigeons sulk? They do look paranoid but they are very adaptable, aren’t they? They could be working undercover for all we know, you however, were struggling.

Your best friend was taking too long to return with your drinks. Should have helped yourself, you chew on your bottom lip as you cross your arms to fight the cold weather and its thoughts that were sweeping around you. It was him who was eager and bent upon stopping by 7-Eleven, a major excuse to catch, in his words ‘a quick glimpse’ of his crush who worked there. Moreover, the word ‘crush’ in your head, wasn’t so uplifting.

Rainy days like these, oddly enough, resonated with things you strongly felt about. Your emotions gusting through the wind and your feelings like raindrops dripping down the foggy panes. The thumping of your heart was loud against your chest and your eyes were on the ground watching the stream of rainwater gushing and coursing down the road against the sidewalk. If anything, you wished the pain got washed away along with it.

Was it comforting? In some ways, yes, maybe because it felt like nature knew you, that perhaps it was genuinely listening to you, unlike the rest. The silent wailing within you was hopelessly awaiting its turn to expose itself– making you believe it came in the form of thunder.

The thunderstorm was your ultimate white noise, the one you relied on, always doing a good job at drowning your incessant thoughts away, down into an abyssal corner within your waning threshold, the one you thought you created for your own good, a space where you held the darkest of your secrets, all perfectly sealed in one place.

You had your flaws, it wasn’t like you could declare them to the world. Nobody cares anyway, right? So, what were you before this? It got rubbed into your face plenty of times. “Things aren’t always what they seem”. The same old warnings. “You can never let your guard down”.

Bullshit.

The idea of falling in love, as dreamy as it may sound, very well was planted somewhere in the back of your head that had its own untold glitches. As you grew up, you came to realize the world wasn’t innocent. After the many heartbreaks you’ve seen your friends have and especially after dealing with one yourself– love was starting to fade from view, like a toxin that needs to be labeled with several warnings everywhere.

It was delusional enough to fancy that on a warm summer’s day, conversely, you were going to be head over heels for that certain someone. Things like that happen only in fairy tales for crying out loud, not in real life. But merely being aware isn’t always enough, either. It’s never enough to be quite honest.

The pain and hurt would come for you sooner or later in life. It was universal.

Sure you were aware but, him? You couldn’t tell if you were cynically chuckling to yourself for believing you were never going to fuck up or quietly bawling your eyes out trying to erase him from your mind as you stood by yourself on the pavement in the heavy rain.

At first, it was painful, gnawing at your heart like it was going to kill you. Now? It was more or less a kind that ripples, warning you subliminally, floating beyond your spectrum of understanding. There’s this uncertain feeling like you’re not able to decide. Isn’t that what everyone’s been warning you about?

This awful disease called love?

You lift your heels up, balancing your frail body on your toes out of boredom or rather to give yourself a break from all the incoherent babbling in your head that won’t stop.

“Sorry for taking long”.

His voice brings you back on your feet. “Watch your step, Y/N. You don’t want to slip and fall into those puddles,” he added, concern floating in his eyes as he hands you a steaming cup of coffee.

“That would be painful and..embarrassing”.

It wasn’t like you were clumsy or anything. Embarrassing is fine but pain? What could possibly hurt more than having the person you loved unconditionally to desolate you like this? Definitely not the cold hard ground.

“Ah don’t worry about it, Kyungsoo,” your voice came out unusually hoarse, considering you hadn’t been speaking much lately, the scratchy tone didn’t surprise you.

Clearing your throat you watch him waving back at his crush in the store. His cheeks had turned a warm shade of pink and his face was gleamingly radiant, unlike the gloomy weather. His glasses were attracting steam from the coffee– fogging his vision and making him take them off to wipe the condensed frame with a sigh. Your best friend was adorable, you know, the dorky kind of adorable.

You were glad to have him around. To help you out of this wrenching lovesick of a voyage, being the emotional klutz you were, he kept you from straying away and suffering all by yourself and he never really seemed to be complaining. Kyungsoo offered you all the support you needed but inevitably, it didn’t fill the empty space that lingered in the depths of your heart, a certain space that desperately longed for someone.

A space that could never be replaced.

The warmth from your own cup begins to seep through your palms, bringing the rim to your lips, you take a whiff of the beverage and for a moment, you halt your breathing, the strong aroma infused with caffeine wafts through your nose, implacably threatening to burst open the floodgates you’d so struggled to seal.

The clouded memory of him returning to you.

“Isn’t this your fifth one?!”.

“I need to finish this song,” mumbling in his husky voice he makes a plea, “please”.

His long fingers busily tapping keys, going back and forth between using the mouse and adjusting something on the audio mixer. His composure was unswerving as he glided on his chair from one instrument to the other.

For a brief second, he had his tongue out, wetting his lips, eyes unwaveringly fixed on the screen. You couldn’t help taking your eyes off him as he swallowed, watching his adam’s apple bob slightly. Swiveling in your direction, you hear him rasp, “just one more”. He was drumming his knees now, giving you his signature puppy look, amusing you more.

“You might get a heart attack silly,” a soft chuckle erupts from you. “Too much caffeine is never good, Yeol”. Your eyes scan the freezer and you’re baffled by the amount of Iced Americano(s) all perfectly lined and stocked in his mini-fridge. God, he’s addicted. He simply couldn’t get enough of it, could he? You can see why. This probably answered your question to his hyperactive self and the plausible conclusion to why he keeps rushing to pee every odd god wilding hour.

Maybe a second has passed, you’re not sure, you peer back to his side and all you see is him casually springing up from his chair, towards you. There’s nothing but silence except for your own muffled breathing and he’s dangerously closing the gap, squishing you to a corner. You feel his hoodie press into your soft arms, his knee scraping against the bare of your thigh as he helps himself through the door and reaches for his favorite drink in the fridge.

“You were saying?” he quips while his hand slithers from between your arm and your waist, amorously in fact, for a straw in a holder that was on the shelf behind you. A quiet yelp falls from your lips as his hand caresses its way back out and the next thing you know, he’s looking into your eyes, popping the straw in and saying, “sip it”.

“Come on”.

The tip of the straw was now aligned to your lips and his knee pressing into your inner thigh wasn’t helping the tension that was compellingly building between you two. “Has the sugar gotten to your head, Park?” you pierce your eyes back into his. Except, he doesn’t budge, his lips conceitedly curl into a smirk instead. Seeming utterly unfazed, hovering his huge self over you, he leans closer.

“I believe I said,” with his gaze undeteringly much sharper than before, he repeats himself, “sip”.

Fuck, he was rude.

Who was he to order you around like this anyway? He was many things– a giant baby? a fluffy human? an incredibly talented man? His collection of Rilakkumas and his Nick Wilde sheets screaming furry for fuck’s sake.

Chanyeol was all things but your boyfriend.

“What if I don’t?” you chirp prodding your finger into his chest. Proving him wrong that you weren’t the only one affected by the proximity. Looking down at you, watching you wantonly drag your finger down his torso, he quirks an eyebrow.

“Playing, are we?”.

What exactly was he getting at? He was the one towering over you. He was the one forcing the cold metal straw against your lips. He was the one further pushing himself into you, practically pinning you against the shelf. All you did was a small nudge and look at him go.

“Look who’s talking,” you taunt as your palms land on him, smoothing over his chest. Feeling his chiseled frame through the hoodie you bite your lip, quite wishing it was off so you could feel the real stuff that was hiding underneath the fabric instead. You were quick to run your fingers up his broad shoulders, maybe he liked your ministration a little too much. Maybe it helped him release all the stiffness he procured from spending all night in his studio.

“Fuck, do that again–,” a string of hissing and groaning followed. Chanyeol was definitely liking the digging of your thumbs into the blades of his shoulders. Resting your fingers around his nape, you ran them up, feeling his hair brushing against them faintly before trailing back down. You then began drawing circles with the ends of your thumb into the crevices above his collarbone earning another satisfied groan from him.

The look on his face was so captivating, his head was flung back and the strong desire to want to kiss him was slowly creeping up your mind. Should have just listened to him and sipped the goddamned coffee. You were now more than intrigued with how exposed his neck was to you. Why did he have to be so attractive? You were so enraptured by him like he had cast some enchanting spell on you. You knew you had to take your hands off him otherwise–

“Hmm?”.

Mayhaps, he sensed the tensing of your fingers on his skin. There was a pout adorning his face and his brows were cutely furrowed. What exactly was this man? How could he switch from looking extremely hot mere seconds ago to now of a soft baby wolf? Who was the furry now? You or him?

Ugh.

Exasperated, you shake your head. “If you’re done,” you huff, quickly drawing your hands away from him, “let me through”.

“What?”.

“I thought you liked when I was like this,” the victorious glint in Chanyeol’s eyes was nothing short of cocky. His right hand was slowly skimming along your waist and his thumb was fervently stroking its way up to a certain spot on your body, the one he knew too well that made you writhe under his touch, the one that was below your rib.

“That’s not what I–,” before you could protest, in a blur, the stupid drink in his hand was gone, tossed aside and his large frame was engulfing you, pulling you into his huge arms.

How long had it been that you were confined like this?

If only he had given you the chance to calculate which he obviously didn’t.

His lips eagerly crash into yours without any warning– allowing you to taste traces of coffee in his mouth as his tongue languidly rolled against yours. At first, you were not exactly sure if you were liking it or hating it. Heck, you’d be wrong if you said if he was bad at kissing. He wasn’t lying when you first met him and he jokingly raved about how his expertise was kissing, that you won’t ever come across a better kisser than him who walked this earth.

What a cocky loser Park Chanyeol was.

The studio was small and the sloppy sounds from your messy but incredible snogging session had left you both needy. You were still pinned against the shelf, your hands clutching onto his hoodie, your bottom lip between his teeth and his expensive rolex grazing against your thigh, cold on your skin as he gripped onto it tightly. His other hand was around your face, holding it on one side, thumb sensually sweeping over your cheekbone.

Godfuckingdamnnit.

Why was it so difficult to push him away?

“Chanyeol,” you let out a stifled moan against his swollen lips. You hoped he would listen, you wish he did, he was fiercely leaving kisses down your neck and along your collarbone, the sensation sending you into a euphoric swirl as he began nibbling on your delicate skin, leaving traces of pink in his wake.

He was so eager and so erratic, with his hot breath fanning against your ear, he teases you. “I drive you crazy, don’t I?” his voice was rough and so tantalizingly deep, he was right. He was driving you crazy, maybe furious even. “Tell me Y/N– ”, before he could continue the sudden ringing of his doorbell startles you both. Hesitantly he detaches himself from you, pausing before tilting his head to the sound like a puppy.

Who could it be at this hour of noon?

He looked slightly annoyed but unbothered like he wasn’t intent on ever receiving the door because he was more absorbed on you right now. Lowering his eyes back on you, his intense gaze softens as he returns to cup your face for a small peck before another bell goes off.

Geez.

This time Chanyeol groans, kicking the shelf as he clumsily pulls himself away from you, the jerking causing one of his action figures of Luffy to tumble and crash straight onto your head. Ouch. Fuck, did it hurt. He drags his feet to attend the intruder who ruined his moment with you. Checking through the security cam he realizes it’s Taehyung.

“What the fuck is he doing here?!”.

“Shit! I completely forgot!” you storm out of the studio cursing and towards the bedroom looking for your jeans. God knows where Chanyeol threw it during your heated moment with him last night. “Taehyung’s here to pick me up”. You tell him nearly out of breath as you rapidly start throwing your clothes on.

Hearing you from the room, quickly enough, Chanyeol’s expression turns dry, he looked so displeased hearing the other’s name fall from your lips. “I’m telling him to go home,” sullen with downcast eyes, he mumbles ruffling his fingers through his pink tousled hair.

“Why don’t you stay?” It was odd hearing him say that, especially for someone who didn’t believe in love, everything he ever says has always been a complex puzzle to you. Something you struggled to piece together. You watch him stand firmly in front of the cam like he was ready to knock the teeth out of Taehyung if heard him press the bell one more time. Hearing you sigh loudly, he pauses, momentarily pursing his lips as he watches you pull your jeans up.

You really wished you could stay but you had to go.

“Yeol, you promised,” you remind him as you fix your hair and tuck your shirt into your jeans. This was the part you didn’t like dealing with. To look at him like this – to come to terms with whatever that was going on between the two of you.

“I know,” he walks towards you, his hand scratching the back of his neck and this time, though his tone was soft, it was laced with so much need, it made it even harder for you to swallow. “We promised”. Looking down at you he wraps his hands around your waist, slowly pulling you closer to him, he presses his forehead against yours as he tries to coax you, “but, I want you to stay”.

“Please”.

You feel his lips ghost over yours and there were so many parts of you screaming, telling you to stay but you know you couldn’t, not like this, not after the many arguments you’ve had with him. It may have seemed like things were going pretty smoothly up until now but quite frankly, they weren’t. You had been pushing it aside for months now and it had reached the point where you knew it had to stop. It did not matter if it was for better or for worse.

Never had you both confessed what you truly felt for each other. It was more like a let’s comfort each other thing than being in love or dating and all of this was strange. It was strange to have fallen for the wrong person, strange to have found comfort in someone who wasn’t willing to take it any further. You were so vain about love, right? You thought you knew better but here you were.

‘On a rainy day, you can come to me and I’ll make you pancakes–you know if you’re hungry and all but when the sun’s out again and shining, our rainy night filled with all this cozy stuff will come to an end. You cool with that?’.

That’s what he told you. That it wouldn’t be anything more than this. That there would be no strings attached. That’s what the promise was about.

And tonight? It was probably just another rainy night for him. Like it was last night. The sun would soon be back up and you’d have to part again. You were okay with this in the beginning but now? It was bothering you, fostering you that you couldn’t have him like you truly and hopelessly wanted to. He would ask you to stay one more night and then what? Tell you to leave? No. He didn’t do that. He would just disappear until it starts raining again. Until you go knocking and begging at his door. Sometimes he’s quick to invite you in but sometimes..

He never answers the door.

In his words, ‘love is all make-believe’ and illusive and you rolled with it at first having thought that you wouldn’t ever fall this deep but never had you been so wrong in all your life. Out of all the people you had to fall for Park Chanyeol. The one who had the same belief as you about love. Someone so rigid, someone who wouldn’t surrender to the idea of commitment.

It was exhausting to keep arguing with him and endure an endless torment when he would disappear every time you brought the matter of what if there’s more to us. And now, you weren’t going to let it happen again, not anymore. You reached the point where you’ve had just about enough of these vexing whirl of emotions.

“Chanyeol, please listen to me,” with a clutch on your heart you struggle to remind him of the promise you made to each other, “if I stay, we’re only going to fuck things up”. If only he would listen, this was the thing about him, he only made things harder for you, never easy.

“Y/N…”.

“I’m not asking you to stay forever”, it wasn’t helping that he was squeezing the side of your arm, his words, however, as bad as it may sound, were squeezing your heart. You were fine moments ago inside the studio. Why does he have to make everything so personal and so complicated when you’d both already figured it out by now that you weren’t meant for each other.

“Stay the night,” he had crossed the line. He softly began peppering kisses on your neck, “please”, repeating himself word after word, “just for tonight”.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’d given in. But, it was the way he touched you, kissed you and spoke so sweetly to you, his sweet lies always pulling you back towards him, like you were being dragged deeper into the lion’s den. He wasn’t bad or anything of that sort, he just had many flaws- like the ‘awful disease called love’.

“Come stargazing with me,” he plants a kiss to your forehead, lacing his fingers with your own, “please?”.

You knew it was a terrible idea. The aftermath would be beyond your control. Perhaps, it already had slipped out of your hands when you agreed to stay last night alone and now you were being pulled onto the loop being completely aware that the elastic might snap at any moment and hurt the both of you. Yet, you’re allowing it to let it slip again.

“For the last time, Yeol”.

With a heavy heart, you bury your head into his chest, letting him consume your meek frame completely.

“Only for tonight”.

How exactly did you get yourself into this mess? What could have possibly gone so wrong that you were stuck in this rut?

It was so clear in the back of your head, big red flags everywhere. Maybe you should have simply stayed away from the perpetual matters of love. But, isn’t running away from it solely what brought you here? Where you least wanted to be in the first place.

Why couldn’t Chanyeol understand this? It also didn’t help that he would get extremely territorial and upset whenever you crossed paths with Taehyung. You hadn’t planned for any of this, it was like you were being hauled deliberately, by some dark cruel force, something you couldn’t keep a leash on.

Was it your luck or simply your fate?

You should have known better when you both first made the ‘fuck love’ pact. Acting like you did was definitely not helping where all of this was going.

“Yeol,” you call his name softly, trying to wake him up from his slumber. You could have easily left him, without having to worry about the argument that would eventually follow but that was worse than acknowledging and telling him the truth. Avoiding the situation wasn’t going to fix the trouble you two were so unawarely brewing.

“Babe, wake up,” combing through his pink locks, you kiss him on the cheek, “don’t you want to go stargazing?”. He looked beautiful, his eyelids were puffy, tired from spending all night working in the studio. You didn’t want to wake him up but you couldn’t stay much longer either. You watch him slowly stir, turning his large body to your side. He takes your arm into his own, hugging them and nuzzling his face against your hand. He was purring like a kitten, his sleepy groans making your heart swoon. “Wake up, baby wolf,” you pat his face to which he smiles with his eyes still closed, being the sneaky little pupper he is.

“Want me to leave?” drawing your hand away from his strong grip, you push yourself off the bed, instantly, before you could get off, he was pulling you back into his body and his arms began tangling around you as he buried his nose cozily into your neck, his breath fanning against your skin, hugging you closely from behind.

“Who said you could leave?” he rasps in your ear, the tone in his voice making you shiver. You never understood what this boy was. He was so clingy but also so unforgivably cold. You thought you could predict his movements yet, he was so unpredictable. He would behave one minute like he’s cool with it but the next second he’s already changing his mind.

Not a few hours ago he was this furious, an out of control asshole, raging telling Taehyung to fuck off. You had to make several calls and apologize for Chanyeol’s irrational behavior. You knew why he was so mad at Taehyung but it had already been settled and he didn’t have to act so tough.

Now? He was being this cuddly giant, hugging you and completely wrapping you in his warmth.

Talk about being possessive. Something was definitely wrong with him but you weren’t really complaining. He was flawed, sure. But these things about him, they were what drew you towards him and as much as you hated admitting the truth, Chanyeol made your heart flutter. You were falling for him, harder than you could have ever imagined and this is why you had to remember the promise. This is why you couldn’t stay. You both had to accept that, the truth was and is always going to be bitter.

Much bitter than what you both deemed of love to be.

A/N - alright this took forever and unfortunately I couldn’t squeeze in the original almost- 8k words yikes because Tumblr keeps glitching. Part one of Clouded is finally out and I’m not sure how I feel? I’m excited but also very nervous? If you’ve read the prologue and the snippets you might have an idea of what’s going to happen later. There’s a lot more coming and I promise it’s going to be an emotional roller coaster. Things are going to go down and y/n is going to suffer I’m sorry ahsjskk. Thank you so much for waiting for Clouded and for taking your time to read it 😭 I hope you’ll enjoy this series! ♡

☾ Clouded Masterlist ✧

Taglist ♡ - @littleflowercrown13 @wifechungha @rashidamesrur

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged too! ♡

#chanyeol smut #chanyeol angst #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol fic #chanyeol x you #chanyeol x reader #chanyeol series #chanyeol scenarios #exo smut #exo angst #exo fanfic #exo x reader #exo x you #chanyeol imagine #chanyeol drabble #chanyeol college au #clouded

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fuzzhugs · 5 years

Text

Smile - Redwall Fanfiction by Fuzzhugs

Plowing a field by paw was strenuous, tedious, and exhausting work, but the smell of food wafting from the farmhouse kept the laborers optimistic that their efforts would be well-rewarded.

One of the day-laborers, a weasel with striking blue eyes, paused to wipe the sweat from his brow. He was young, only a few seasons into his adulthood. With boundless energy, this was work he was well-suited toward. As he rested, he saw another weasel approaching, the daughter of the farmer who had hired him and his friends to work on his farm in exchange for food and shelter. Her name was Maudred, and the laborer had grown quite close to her in the few weeks he had been working. When Maudred drew close, she offered him a canteen of water with a smile on her face. It was a warm, friendly smile just like that which had drawn the laborer to her in the first place.

Relieved to have something to drink, he took the canteen and downed most of the contents in a few large gulps. “Thanks,” he said, handing the canteen back. “It’s been a hot one today. Is dinner going to taste as good as it smells?”

“You bet it will. I made the blueberry pie myself.” She winked. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“Well, then I’ll be sure to have seconds and fully appreciate your work.”

“It’s hard work, cooking for an army of hungry beasts.”

“We should probably switch jobs then. I can take over in the kitchen and you can come out here and plow the fields.”

Maudred laughed. “At least we wouldn’t have to worry about eating. We’d all have died of food poisoning after the first night.”

The laborer held his arms out in mock offence. “Are you saying I can’t cook?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying.” Maudred winked and lightly kissed the laborer’s cheek. “But you can help with the dishes any time you want.”

The laborer leaned on his hoe and sighed as he watched Maudred walk away toward the farmhouse. He was thankful he and his wandering companions hand come across this farm when they needed help. They hadn’t eaten so well since they had left their homes to lead a life of adventure, living off the land, scavenging, and sometimes begging. Having a place to call home, even if it was only temporary, was nice.

“Hey Ferahgo!” one of his companions shouted from across the patch of soil, how about you do some work like the rest of us?”

“I am!” Ferahgo shouted back. “Impressing maids is a very difficult job.”

As promised, dinner was delicious. The serving table was packed with crisp salads topped with juicy tomatoes, bowls full of berries and nuts, plates stacked high with scones and honey. To drink there was mint tea (still cool from the farmhouse cellar), nutbrown beer foaming in mugs, and sweet raspberry cordial. The laborers ate at every available flat surface around the farm: inside at the table, on the floor, outside around tree stumps, plus a few on the patchwork picnic blankets spread all around. All the while, Maudred was hurrying about, making sure everyone had enough to eat and drink. The laborers were a mixed bunch. Besides Ferahgo and his friends, there were itinerant hares, some otters from the nearby river, two or three wandering hedgehogs, and a large number of others of various species who, like Ferahgo’s group, traveled around looking for enough work to fill their bellies.

Maudred was so busy seeing to everybeast’s needs, she hadn’t had time to sit down and eat herself. Ferahgo noticed, and eventually forced her to take a break and have something to eat while he took over the dispensing of food and drink.

When dinner was over and everybeast, including Maudred, had eaten their fill, most of the laborers went off to the barn where they slept to enjoy some music before they went to bed, but Ferahgo stayed behind.

“Aren’t you going to go with your friends?” Maudred asked as she picked up the plates that had been left lying around.

“I think I prefer different company tonight,” Ferahgo said, starting to make his own stack of dishes.

“You don’t need to do that,” Maudred told him. “You’ve worked hard enough today.”

“You did say I could help with the dishes any time I wanted.”

“If you insist.” Maudred picked up her stack of plates and started for the farmhouse. “You can wash.”

The wash-bin was large enough to be a bathtub and was filled with soapy water and no small number of dirty dishes. Ferahgo started washing as Maudred wiped the dishes dry and put them away until they would be used again the next evening.

“This is certainly easier,” Maudred said. “Maybe I should have you help me every night.”

“It’ll cost you,” Ferahgo teased. “You might have to kiss me again.”

“A sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Maudred teased back. “Maybe I should kiss your friends as well. Might get them to do all my work for me.”

Ferahgo flicked some water at Maudred. She looked at him slyly and brushed the drops from her fur. She dipped her paw into the water and splashed him. Within moments, events escalated into a full splash-war. When the suds settled, both Ferahgo and Maudred were soaked through to the skin and in a fit of laughter.

Maudred took a clean cloth and wiped off Ferahgo’s face. “You clean up nice,” she said to him.

“You always look nice.”

Ferahgo and Maudred finished washing the dishes together and then cleaned up the kitchen, making sure to mop up the puddles from their aquatic battle. Afterward, Ferahgo waited while Maudred went to put on dry clothing. She came back out wearing a simple cream-colored dress that beautifully complimented her brown fur. She took Ferahgo’s arm and led him to a private spot outside beneath and oak tree. They lay there together and watched as the stars came out. They had both watched the stars many times before, but there was something special about sitting and quietly watching the distant points of light with somebeast close by.

Though they sat in silence, Ferahgo could tell something was bothering Maudred. He shifted closer and placed his arm around her. “What troubles you, Maudie?”

She sighed and looked into Ferahgo’s blue eyes, which sparkled with starlight. “The time for planting is almost over. Once the seeds are in the ground, father and I will not need so many laborers. Father already asked the Brownspikes and the Streamdogs to stay on to help with weeding and irrigation. I’m worried that you’ll leave and I’ll never see you again.”

Ferahgo sat up in front of Maudred so he could look directly into her eyes. “Do you think I care so little that I’d simply leave and never come back? This area is plentiful in the spring and summer. My friends and I can stay close by. When harvest comes, we can come back.”

“And after that? What then? What will you do in the winter?”

“I’ll…I’ll think of something,” Ferahgo stuttered. “I’m not going to disappear. Even if I have to spend the winter a little further south, I’ll be back in the early spring.”

“And what about after that? Will it be like that forever? Planting and harvest with months of absence in between? I don’t want you to go.” Maudred sniffled and wiped her teary eyes.

Ferahgo put his paw on her cheek and leaned in close. Their noses were nearly touching. “Come with me.”

“W-what?”

“Come with me and my friends. Come wander with us. Just for the times when we aren’t here. We won’t go too far, and if you get homesick we can always come back, and-”

Maudred pulled Ferahgo to her and kissed him. Ferahgo, though initially surprised, did not resist and let her linger for as long as she wanted. When they separated, Maudred leaned back against the tree and contemplated her future.

“I’ll have to ask my father. Even with just him and a few laborers, there’s a lot of cooking and cleaning, never mind the laundry, the sewing, keeping inventory, and a dozen other things I do around here.”

“I’m sure you father can manage without you. He was running this farm before you were born, remember.”

“That’s true,” Maudred said. “Now how about you? What do you think of all this?”

“To be honest, I’m still recovering from that kiss. Wasn’t really expecting that. Not that I didn’t enjoy it.”

Maudred blushed. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Ferahgo moved next to her beneath the tree. “I’m going to be washing dishes forever, aren’t I.”

Maudred gave him a playful shove. “Shut up, you idiot.”

His eyes still sparkling in the starlight, Ferahgo smiled.

Several seasons later in the late autumn, Ferahgo’s group of wanderers had made camp at the bottom of a small valley sheltered between several hills. A stream running nearby supplied them with fresh fish, and berries and nuts grew abundantly in the woods. It was an ideal place to stop and store up for the winter. The group had grown beyond Ferahgo’s original group of friends in recent seasons. Besides Maudred, the group now included a dozen new members, each one content to enjoy the nomadic lifestyle, occasionally stopping to work at the farms or fisheries they happened across in their travels.

The nights had been growing colder, and everybeast slept with a small fire blazing near his or her tent. Ferahgo and Maudred were no exception.

The two weasels had been together since Maudred had left her family farm. Though they had never publically declared themselves to be mated, they still lived under that assumption and casually referred to each other as ‘husband’ and ‘wife.’

With their own fire warmly glowing not too far away, Ferahgo and Maudred settled down for bed, cuddling close to stay warm during the frigid night.

Though his eyes were closed and he was gently dozing, Ferahgo could feel Maudred’s eyes on him. Opening his eyes, he looked at his wife, gazing at him with an uncertain look.

“Maudie, what’s the matter?”

Maudred shifted uncomfortably. “It’s probably nothing. Don’t worry about it, Ferah.”

Ferahgo rolled onto his side and leaned on his elbow, looking skeptically at his wife. “Love, something is bothering you. Let me help.”

“It’s really nothing.” She sighed, and then looked down as she ran a paw over her abdomen. “I think I might be pregnant.”

Ferahgo’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “Oh Maudie, that’s wonderful. How long have you known?”

“I only said I might be pregnant. I don’t know for sure yet.”

“But you have felt signs?”

“For the past few days, yes, but it could just be an upset stomach.”

“When will you know for certain?”

“I suppose if it doesn’t go away, that means it’s a baby.”

Ferahgo cuddled against his wife. “Why did you wait to tell me?”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case I was wrong. You’ve talked a lot about wanting a family of your own someday. I hope I’m right. I’d like to have a little one of our own too.”

Pulling her close, Ferahgo kissed her on the forehead. “I’d like that a lot: you, me, and our child. Who needs anything else?”

Bringing the covers up, the two weasels once again settled down to sleep, dreaming of the future they would have together.

Gone.

Ferahgo sat alone in his tent, staring at the ground, utterly expressionless. He had heard nothing from the midwife for almost half-an-hour, and Maudie’s cries of pain from the birthing process had long been silent. Ferahgo knew what that meant, but he didn’t want to see it. If he didn’t see it, then it wasn’t real. If he didn’t see it, there was still a chance everything was fine, and he and his wife would be cradling their newborn, smiling and making silly noises to him as he looked at the world with new eyes.

Head in his paws, Ferahgo broke down sobbing, his grief unending. She was gone. He knew she was gone. Gone. He did not know how long he wept, but he only stopped when another beast entered his tent. With has much mental effort as he could muster, Ferahgo tore himself from his grief. “What is it?” he said without any real interest.

Della, the midwife, spoke calmly to him, not that it did much good. “As you’ve figured out, Maudred did not make it. I’m sorry, Ferahgo. I did everything I could to save her, but she lost too much blood.”

Ferahgo stood up. Now that he knew the truth, there was no point hiding from it. “I want to see her.” He started walking automatically toward the midwife’s tent.

“I don’t if that’s a good idea, boss. In your state-”

“I said I’m going to see her.”

His walk to the tent was a daze. He would later recall a number of creatures offering him their sympathies, but he would not remember who had been there. Entering the tent, he looked down at the mess of bloody blankets. The only clean blanket in the place covered his wife’s body. He delicately took the edge and pulled it away from her head. Maudred’s eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly open. She did not look she had been in great pain. Ferahgo gently ran a paw along her cheek. She was still slightly warm to the touch. Gone.

“I did this to you. I brought you out here. I slept with you. I made you pregnant. It’s my fault. I did this to you.” Ferahgo let out a scream of grief and rage. He pounded the earth next to where Maudred lay. A pair of gentle arms held on to him, holding him as every single ounce of emotion flowed out. Ferahgo never knew who it was that held him as his grief tore him apart.

After some time, he stopped. He made no more noise. He was empty. There was nothing left inside. He placed the blanket back over Maudred’s face, stood up, and went to leave the tent.

“The baby?” he said at the midwife as he passed.

“Your son lives,” she said. “I am having Dapplefur watch over him for now. She had her own little one a week ago. She will nurse him for now. He will be cared for.”

Ferahgo nodded and turned to go back to his tent.

“He will need a name,” the midwife said.

“Klitch,” said Ferahgo without hesitation. “We had talked about it, me and her. Klitch. After one of her uncles.”

He reached his tent and closed the flap behind him, shutting out the rest of the world. He collapsed onto the bedroll and inhaled deeply, taking in his wife’s scent while it still lingered. Rolling over, he stared at the ceiling of the tent.

Gone.

Anybeast entering the camp would have had no way of knowing that Ferahgo was present. Unless that beast were to stick their head directly into his tent, it was unlikely they would ever see him. Ferahgo seldom left his tent, and the times he did were usually at the urging of one of his close friends to go see his son.

The situation in the wanderer’s camp was poor. While everybeast was largely capable of scavenging and gathering for his or herself, they relied on Ferahgo to lead them to a good spot where wild edibles were plentiful, but Ferahgo had made no effort to find a spot for the coming winter. In truth, Ferahgo had little concern for himself or for the camp, rarely eating or talking to anyone. He had grown thin and ragged; even his blue eyes had lost their shine. Indeed, his only concern was for his son.

On this rare day, Ferahgo had left his tent to go feed little Klitch. Though he was still nursing, the midwife had recommended starting him on squished berries and vegetables. Little Klitch seemed to enjoy the experience greatly, smiling and laughing at the spoon as it zipped around his face before going to his mouth. Such times seemed to lighten Ferahgo’s mood as well.

“Here comes a birdie looking for its nest. Where’s it gonna land?” Ferahgo said as he trailed the spoon around. “Here it comes. It’s going to land.” He popped the spoon into Klitch’s mouth and let him swallow the vegetable mush. “That’s a good little weasel. Going to grow up big and strong like your daddy.”

The feeding was interrupted by Dewnose the stoat, one of Ferahgo’s friends who had been part of his original group. “Boss, we need to talk.”

Ferahgo continued to feed his son as he talked to Dewnose. “What is it?”

“Boss, we need to do…something.”

“Something?”

“Something about food, boss. Autumn’s almost over and we’ve nowhere near enough food. We’ve been kipped here so long everything’s been picked clean. We’ve got enough for day-to-day stuff for now, but once winter hits-”

“We’ll get through it,” Ferahgo said without much concern. “We’ve gotten through rough winter’s before.”

“Not with this many mouths to feed, boss. We need to do…something. Move the camp or…I don’t know. You’re the one who’s good at planning and stuff. What do we do, boss? If we don’t get a lot of food soon, we’re going to die, boss. You, me, your son, and everybeast here.”

Ferahgo stopped the spoon halfway to his son’s mouth, a grimace on his face. Klitch fussed as he tried to get at the just-out-of-reach morsel.

Silently standing, Ferahgo handed Klitch back to Dapplefur and gestured for Dewnose to follow him. Returning to his tent, Ferahgo belted on the knife he normally kept for skinning fish. “Go get Crabeyes, Doghead, and Badtooth. Dethbrush and Grabble as well. Tell them to bring weapons.”

“Weapons, boss? What are you-?”

“You said you wanted food, didn’t you? It’s too late to move camp. So unless you want to starve this winter, go and do as I say.” The tone in Ferahgo’s voice indicated that dissent was not an option.

As Dewnose went and did Ferahgo’s bidding, the weasel spun the knife around in his paws. He could do a few good tricks with it, but he had never used it to hurt any living creature, save for fish. He hoped that he wouldn’t have change that now. He really didn’t like what he was about to do, but for his son, the only thing he had left of Maudred, he would do anything.

The others came to him quickly, armed and ready to go. Ferahgo led them off out of the valley and over the hills. They followed the river for miles until they came to a farm. Most of the working day was gone, so the farmer’s would likely be inside. Silently, Ferahgo signaled for his crew to move toward the barn where all the stored food would be kept.

Dewnose and Badtooth unbarred the door and opened it. Inside the barn there were stacks and stacks of food: flour, wheat, dried fruits and vegetables, nuts, and jars and jars of preserves.

“Start with the items easiest to carry. We’ll take whatever we can.”

“Boss,” Crabeyes interrupted, “I don’t think this is right, taking everything from these farmers-”

“We aren’t taking everything. We seven couldn’t possibly take everything with us. We’re just going to take enough to survive. We’ll leave them plenty to live on. Maybe you don’t like it, but once winter hits and it’s your stomach grumbling, you’ll be thanking me for this when you have food to put in your belly.”

There were no further complaints, and the crew began loading everything they could into sacks. The sacks were half-filled when a voice stopped them dead in their tracks.

“What in Hellgates do you think you’re doing?” A hedgehog stood at the barn entrance holding a large club. He was backed up by five others.

Ferahgo stepped up to meet him. “We’re going to starve. We won’t make it through the winter unless we get food stores going. If we have something to trade we can-”

“Trader’s usually ask before they start collecting goods,” the hedgehog said. “You lot are nothin’ but thieves.” He raised his club. “I’m gonna give you ‘til the count o’ ten to get out o’ here before I start smashing skulls.”

As the hedgehog began counting, Ferahgo quickly surveyed his crew. They were all looking to him for their next move, but he could see the tension in their bodies. They were ready to draw the weapons they had brought. They knew they needed this food, and they were willing to do whatever it took to get it back home to their families.

The hedgehog finished his count and Ferahgo took out his knife, spinning it around a few times for effect.

“You’re gonna regret this, weasel,” the hedgehog said, drawing his club back. He sprung forward with surprising speed, but tripped on a hole in the uneven dirt floor. His momentum carried him right across Ferahgo’s blade. Blood spurted from the hedgehog’s throat as the thrashed on the floor before going still.

“Murderer!” one of the other hedgehogs screamed. “Assassin!”

What happened next was forever a blur in Ferahgo’s memory, but there was combat, and when it was over, the hedgehogs were all dead and Ferahgo’s crew was covered in blood.

Ferahgo cleaned his blade on one of the dead farmer’s tunics and returned it to its sheath. “Take everything you can carry,” he said, reiterating his previous command, steeping over the bodies without a glance. “We’ll come back for the rest later.”

Nobeast said a word as they trekked back to their camp, their costly burdens weighing them down, but the others noticed Ferahgo had developed a crazed look in his eyes.

The rest of the camp was surprised to see them return coated in blood, and everybeast quickly came out to see what was going on. The entire camp, around forty in all, assembled as Ferahgo began to speak.

“For seasons, we’ve lived off of the meager food of the forest or the pitiful wages of a farmhand. We are not vagrants. We are not slaves. We are better than that. Living season-to-season, even day-to-day has been a struggle for far too long. From this day forward, we are no longer slaves to nature nor slaves to any other beast. What we need, we will take! The riches of the land will be ours! Where we are denied what is ours, we will leave only bodies! Be loyal to me my Corpsemakers, and I will show you what true wealth is!”

Around three-quarters of the group, already on the verge of dire hunger, cheered for Ferahgo. Many of the others cheered as well, if only so that nobeast would see they weren’t cheering.

Ferahgo went back to Dapplefur’s tent and picked up his son. Feeling alive once again, he playfully swung his son around. “Don’t you worry, Klitch. Daddy is going to keep us all safe and fed. Everybeast will come to fear us, and we will lack nothing. Anything that we want will be ours.”

Putting his son back down, Ferahgo left to organize a return trip to the farm.

A fierce wind flew in from the north, bringing a blast of frigid air and the first flakes of winter. Ferahgo laughed at the wind, for the chill of winter was no longer any threat to him. As the wind continued to blow and gust, a manic grin appeared on Ferahgo’s face, and his blue eyes shone with a cruel light.

The coming winter would be cold, but not as cold as the smile on the face of Ferahgo the Assassin.

#redwall #redwall fandom #redwall fanfiction #redwall ocs

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